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scorpioriesling · 12 hours ago

Note

but what about a poly smut/ angst fic with violet and xaden with female reader ? would love it

Blinding Love

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Pairing(s): Xaden x Violet x reader

Warning(s): smut, mdni, 18+, angst, arguing, light injury

Summary: After a knock-down, drag-out fight with the two people you love most, the three of you are able to come to a mutual understanding. Not only with eachother, but also with yourself -- at the end of the day, it's your blinding love for one another that will prevail.

SR’s Note: Only thing I have to say is... happy pride month, everyone! Much love to all, and thank you once again for your patience as I work through all of my requests and WIPs. xoxo

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @bookofriverr @kitsunetori @velarisdusk @nctsawrus @lreadsstuff @paintedbyshadows @freakishfandomfiend @littleemissperfecttt @loveofmychips @bodhidurrans (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

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You paced nervously, your pointer finger and thumb pinching your chin. What could be taking them so long? They'd left nearly two hours ago -- surely, Panchek didn't have that much to say.

Sighing, you sat on the corner of your bed, deciding to redirect your worry toward something else. You reached beneath the covers, your fingers searching for the familiar hoop -- if you couldn't see them right now, you might as well work on your sewing and at least do something productive.

You'd barely run the needle and thread through the fabric before your two favorite people burst through the doors. Your eyes lit up, excitement welling as you caught sight of them. The excitement was short-lived, however; the two were in a shouting match as they thundered into the room.

"YOU SAID YOU WEREN'T GOING TO BRING IT UP, VI," Xaden roared. Violet scoffed, charging through the doorway after him.

"What in Dunne's name did you expect? For me to just let the Colonel speak for us? Are you really, of all people, okay with something like that?"

Your eyes widened as you stared between them, watching Xaden's cheeks redden and the vein in Violet's forehead pulse.

"Oh don't act like that's what I'm saying; it's not, and you know that," he griped, dropping the bag he carried from his back to the floor. It landed louder than you'd expected, and you jumped at the sound. Violet payed no mind as the threw her hands in the air.

"I never know exactly what you're saying, Xaden! I can't always tell what you mean or what you're thinking -- you forget, not everyone can read minds like you," she spat. Xaden's eyes widened as she crossed her arms gruffly, and at that you stood from the bed.

"Violet! Why would you say such a thing so... loud?" You glanced at the still-open doorway, thanking all the Gods that no one was passing by. "You know such a thing could get him killed-"

"Yeah? And what happens if he gets you killed?" She sneered. "Did you consider that, maybe, I'm fighting for you right now?"

Your head reared back as though she'd just slapped you.

"W-what?" You asked quietly, turning to look at Xaden. His gaze was downcast, and damn near shameful. Violet laughed humorlessly.

"Yeah! Go ahead, ask him -- ask him why, of all the meetings we've had with leadership, this one was so damn hard for him to defend you at." She glared at the male. "Go on; ask."

Your eyes roved over the male's face, contorted with discomfort. He looked angry with his furrowed brow -- but beneath that hard exterior, you could sense something wasn't sitting right with him.

"Xaden?"

He glanced up at your whisper of his name, his eyes watery. You'd never seen your boyfriend cry, and you hadn't suspected today would be the first. That look, that one look though -- it had your heart aching for him.

He cleared his throat before he spoke, every word measured and calculated.

"Panchek called the meeting with leadership to discuss this week's assignments," he began quietly. Violet stood firm, her arms still crossed as she studied him. "They wanted to go over rotations, and... who would be leaving the vale for the outer posts."

He paused, and Violet shrugged.

"Yep. Go on," she urged. He glared as her, continuing his explaination.

"Panchek's idea was to send a few of the third years out to Hedotis. He wanted riders with more experience to go, thinking they'd be able to better withstand the flight." He continued. Violet shook her head slowly.

"Yeah, which makes the most sense," she interrupted. You looked to her again, meeting her pleading stare. "We should send the most experienced riders. Especially ones without ties to that region-"

"Anyway," Xaden took control of the conversation again. "When he considered sending Dain, Bodhi, and Imogen, I knew that was going to be a disaster. So, I forged an idea I thought would be best."

Violet's hands balled into fists. "A stupid idea! Xaden, your mother is not exactly at the top of any of our lists right now-"

"Which you so kindly reminded Colonel Aetos of -- thanks again for that," he bellowed. "That's why the prick was so quick to agree with me, all because you couldn't keep your mouth shut-"

"I was trying to change their minds!" She shreiked. Your eyes began to well with tears, watching them fight like this. However, you stood frozen as they continued settling the score before you, nothing but a small whimper coming from you.

"Guys, please that's enough-"

Violet continued. "You can't tell me for one second you truly believe that the three of us should go instead-"

"I think we're more than prepared to go!" Xaden's voice rose in octave. "Y/N's been honing her signet, you're one of the strongest women in the wing, and you've got me-"

"Oh yeah, right," Violet griped, matching his pitch. "We have you, so we'll be fine. Sure! Again, I bring up the fact that Y/N's never actually fought yet-"

"I said ENOUGH!"

Both parties gasped and covered their heads as wind blew forcefully through the window panes, shattering the glass and scattering it across the floor. You remained still, knowing this would happen; and you'd been in a relationship with the other two that you'd figured they'd know it, too.

"What is wrong with you?" You asked to neither of them in particular, breathing heavily as tears began to run down your cheeks. Both of them turned to look up at you, and in that instant you registered the small cuts the glass had left on the both of them.

"You both are always making decisions for me, deciding what I am and are not capable of, and speaking for me in that sense too." You said defiantly. Violet's lips parted, and Xaden only gazed up at you shamefully. They both remained quiet as the wind ripped through the room, sending your embroidery to the floor as well as the various papers strewn about.

Sniffling, you quickly reached to wipe your tears, not feeling guilty for the hurt on both of their faces.

"You need to understand I am a person too -- just because I can't weild lightning," you looked to Violet. "And I'm not the Duke of Tyrrendor," you looked to Xaden again, who dropped his head. "It doesn't mean my words are any less; not in life-threatening discussions, or any discussions for that matter."

You turned, a fresh wave of emotion coursing through you. Behind you, the sound of Violet moving to stand was heard, her boots crunching on the shattered glass as she chased after you.

The bathroom door was tossed open in an instant, and you stepped inside. Her hand braced the wood before you could shove it closed, and you met her worried gaze as she stared at you.

"Please Y/N, we just want you safe-"

"I need to shower."

It was all the explaination you offered, your tone clipped, as you shut the door behind you.

･ﾟ: *✧

The water had been running for fifteen minutes before the door opened again. The bliss you'd allowed yourself to enjoy was halted, a cool breeze brushing past the doorway and beyond the curtain of warmth you'd been enjoying.

"Ugh - go away," you grumbled, letting the stream of wet run over your face. Your tears had been since washed away, your mind beginning to clear a little. But, instead of leaving, the curtain was drawn back, the familiar greenish gray eyes gazing to you once more. You rolled your own, turning your back to the curtain.

"I don't want to talk right now."

Violet didn't seem to care as she stepped onto the tiled floor behind you. The curtain rod squeaked as she tugged the fabric back into place, and in a moment you felt her ragged, uneven breaths hitting the back of your neck.

"Fine. Let's not talk."

You loosed a sigh as her fingers brushed your skin, cold to the touch at the tips. She must not have weilded today as your usual concern for her singed digits wasn't present this time. Her touch began at your waist, her fingers brushing over the dampened skin; that was, before her hands travelled around your front, stroking up and down your abdomen.

Though you still had so many words, so much to say not only to your girlfriend but to Xaden too -- this was what you needed. This was your temporary fix.

Your lips parted as her palms rested beneath your breasts, the cool touch causing your nipples to harden. Her lips came next, gently kissing the side of your neck as her hands travelled further north, cupping and kneading you as you leant into her.

Water fell around the two of you like a curtain, trailing over your collarbone and running down the valley of your breasts as her hair was drenched in turn. Her kisses became harder, needier -- and when you turned to face her suddenly, looking right into her eyes, you could see it. She needed this too.

Feeling more confident, she pressed you against the shower wall, her thigh slotting between your parted knees. The silky smoothness of her skin elicited fire as it pressed just right against your core, and she smiled softly as a breathy moan escaped your lips. Her hands left your upper body in favor of sliding slowly to your ass, cupping a cheek in either hand. Her fingers guided you, pressing your hips forward and back as you began moving them in time with her.

Your eyes fell shut as you continued rocking your hips against her leg, and she chuckled softly at the way your jaw hung open. She leaned in, her lips to your neck once more as one hand reached to pinch and roll over your nipple. You gasped sharply as the pending sensation within you threatened release, especially with the added friction of her fingertips against your chest.

"Vi..." you breathed, your hands reaching to brace her shoulders. Her teeth came fast and sharp, biting lightly near the column of your throat. You squeaked at the delightful sting, your release coiling near the base of your spine.

"Let go for me," she whispered, her suggestion sending you over the edge. Your eyes widened as you released upon her thigh, your lower half shaking as the sensation coursed through you. You clutched her shoulders, gasping as you rode out your high -- but, even then she didn't stop.

"I want you in our bed," she panted, leaning down to take your other nipple in her mouth. You moaned, loud this time, and shook harder as her palm cupped your leaking cunt. "Now. Please," she added, her pleading eyes looking to you once again. You nodded, reaching behind you to shut the water off. In seconds, the two of you had toweled off, stepping out one after another and making for the doorway.

The sight before you had you halting in your tracks, emotion swelling in you once more. The glass that had scattered around the room had been completely picked up, a small pile of it lay atop your shared vanity. Next to it, a fresh bouquet of lilies sat in a vase -- your favorite. Yoru gaze settled on your bed though, where Xaden lay, securing the starch-white gauzy wrap around his palm. He was shirtless, clad in only sweatpants as he sat on the edge of the mattress, his long legs hanging off of it.

"I figured it's the least you deserved, after all we said and did," he said softly. You glanced sidelong at Violet, who met you with a knowing nod. Your eyes followed her naked form as she strode for the male, her knee bending as she braced the mattress beside him. His fingers immediately found her waist, tugging her up next to him. She straddled him, glancing over her shoulder at you in an effort to entice you.

It worked.

"Come here, baby." Xaden suggested lowly, reaching to brush Violet's dampened strands over her shoulder. You prowled closer, watching as she moved from his lap in favor it sitting next to him. His hands lightly took yours, pulling you close until you stood between his parted knees.

A single tear slipped as your fingers brushed the gauze covering his palms, surely cut from picking up the glass you'd shattered with your wind-weilding outburst earlier. His brown eyes gazed up at you lovingly, as his thumb reached to brush the fallen tear away.

"Hey, hey," he cooed, lifting you to sit on his lap. You obliged, sniffling as he gently cupped your jaw. "It's the least I could do. We can both be better towards you, and today was a prime example of just that."

You nodded slowly, taking in his words. Violet moved to her knees beside you, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. Xaden's fingers inched you closer, until finally your lips were on his. You sighed, the feeling of his mouth pressed to yours once more so refreshing.

Unable to ignore the elephant in the room, you instinctively began swaying your hips once more, excited again by the feel of his hardening cock beneath you. He groaned, kissing you harder, sweeping his tongue past the seam of your lips in an effort to explore deeper. You let him, nearly so caught up in the moment that you didn't register Violet running her fingers lightly through your hair. Xaden's hands found your hips, settling there as he relished in the way your hips rocked atop his lap.

"We'd do anything for you," Violet whispered. "Anything you'd ever ask."

Tears stung the back of your eyes as Xaden broke the kiss, breathless.

"We love you, Y/N," he said, his voice raw. "More than anything."

You had to fight to keep the tears at bay, working to express the emotion beyond the lump in your throat.

"I... love you guys too," you choked out, your heart warming at their soft smiles. Xaden's hands gently repositioned you once more, setting you on all fours near the edge of the mattress. Violet quickly shimmied beneath you, her eyes gazing up at you prettily as your hands braced either side of her head. Xaden palmed your ass from behind, moving to stand at the edge of the mattress.

"I would warm you up but... it seems we have Vi to thank for that," Xaden chuckled. You giggled at the humor, watching Violet wink up at you from below. Biting your lip, you braced for the stretch -- but the feeling was far more pleasureable that you'd remembered.

Xaden entered you slowly, his cock sliding inch by inch along your gummy walls. Violet reached a hand down, her middle and ring finger connecting with your clit. She rubbed slow, tantalizing circles there as Xaden continued pressing into you, all the way until his hips became flush with your ass.

You breathed out slowly, your bottom lip releasing from it's hold as you spoke.

"More... please, more."

Xaden was quick to draw back and re-enter, grunting as you clenched your pussy around him. Violet sighed as she rubbed her fingers faster, her wide-eyed stare adding to the increasing slick as she gazed up at you. You moaned as you leaned low to kiss her, Xaden's thrusts becoming more and more frequent. You stayed there, your chest pressed against hers as she pleasured herself with her free hand, the hand once pressed against you now moving to circle your waist. Your breasts bounced as Xaden fucked you, the movement small as your nipples pushed against Violet's.

"Oh Gods Y/N... you're fucking perfect," Xaden breathed, his grip on your ass firm as he pounded into you. You squealed in delight as his hips snapped against your butt, the light feeling of his balls spanking against your clit driving you wild.

Your attention was turned back to Violet as she gasped, the fingers she'd been working against herself finally bringing her to the brink of release.

"Oh Y/N..." she moaned prettily. "So pretty, baby -- you're gonna make me cum."

You grinned slyly at that, your teeth catching her bottom lip and nipping at it. She cried out, announcing her impending release.

Xaden groaned behind you as he pressed forward, ramming into you at a new, deeper angle. You cried out, the sensation bringing you closer and closer to the brink.

"Xaden... oh Gods, Xaden-"

"Cum for me baby," he insisted, his voice thick. "Cum all over me, please Y/N -- let me paint your walls white."

At that, you released, screaming as the built up tension finally clawed its way through. Violet panted heavily below you, her fingers running up and down your spine. Xaden followed soon after, calling your name as he came. The instant warmth filled you as he spurted cum deep within your pussy, gasping as he spilled every last drop.

Once he was sure he'd released everything, he collapsed on the bed beside you. Violet wiggled to lay on your other side, and you fell forward, lying comfortably on your stomach. You found Xaden's warm gaze first, his fucked-out expression gazing sidelong at you as though it held a million unsaid words.

You swallowed, preparing for the conversation you'd dreaded having. "I wanted to... apologize. I was way out of line-"

"You need to apologize for nothing," Xaden assured, reaching to brush your cheekbone with his fingertips. "We -- I -- was in the wrong today for speaking on your behalf without talking to you first. I shouldn't have done that." He said honestly. Violet piped up from your opposite side, and you turned to glance at her.

"No no no -- I should've thought before speaking. I was only thinking for myself, and truly just wanted your safety is all. I hadn't considered your opinion, or that it may be different, because I didn't ask you first." She admitted, ashamedly. You leaned in, kissing her cheek as you gave her an assuring look.

"I appreciate your concern for my safety -- you're always looking out for me, it's one of the things I love most about you."

Her cheeks pinkened before you turned, finding Xaden's eyes again.

"And, you always think so highly of me, and value my strengths as though they're your own -- that is one of the things I love most about you."

You leaned in to kiss his cheek, but he turned to catch your lips instead. You melted into him as his abs flexed beneath the weight of your ribs, and before you could think more of it you pulled yourself away slowly, smiling at the slow grin spreading across his face.

"We have a lot to discuss, that's for sure -- starting with what you want," he said softly. His mouth widened as he yawned, his arm stretching all the way until his hand slid beneath Violet's head. You took the memo and slotted yourself between the two of them, lying on your back as they both turned inward to cuddle you.

"Tomorrow, please -- for now, let's sleep," Violet said dreamily. You let out a soft yawn, following Xaden as you closed your eyes, nestled between both of their bodies.

"Sleep," you agreed groggily, beginning to drift off. "For now, lets just sleep."

✧･ﾟ: *

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simblrofmgy · 10 months ago

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what the actual fuck is this???

#the sims 4 #sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 simblr #ts4cc #not all of my cc windows are doing this. just some of them #and before anyone asks #according to s4s I do in fact have all the needed textures #just repaired all my game files thinking sulsulduck's camera overhaul might be to blame somehow but apparently not #also they weren't doing this two days ago #je confuse

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faedotexe · 8 months ago

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So... I kind of laughed at Balatro's source code when I saw it, like not in a mean spirited way or anything, but still

I'd like to take that laugh back please

#code crimes #apparently this is like #not incorrect #i don't even hate it #i'm getting better at using ink honestly i think #well i have a building system #like you can actually gather resources and also spend them to build buildings #i'm still having this thing where i kind of despise code that i wrote two days ago #like #it works but i'm doing stuff that's so much better now #imagine this but over 3 years of game dev #games weren't made to take 3 years to create is what i'm saying #but also i might have overscoped this tiny project #we'll see

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lolab4t · 26 days ago

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off duty - fluff

18 + part two

pairing: avenger!bucky barnes x fem!avenger!younger!reader summary: after a rare night off, you stumble back into avengers tower at 2 am.. tipsy, feet hurting, and definitely not expecting to run into bucky barnes on the couch. word count: 5.8k warning(s): light cursing, alcohol consumption/intoxication, fluff, use of nicknames, humor, age gap, mild suggestive language, reader is a young adult avenger, reader is described as wanting to party a/n: here's my first fic! it's a throwback to the avengers before the infinity war. i really hope you enjoy :) and if you do, please like, comment, or reblog! <3

cherry - lana del rey

being a young adult and an avenger at the same time wasn't easy. you wanted to be like others your age... party, stay out late, maybe dance with a random guy you found mildly attractive under the dim nightclub lighting, then bolt when you actually saw his face in the light. hell, you would settle for just shopping or grabbing lunch with your friends, however mundane that sounded.

but, as a full-time avenger, you weren't privy to this lifestyle. the main issue was your schedule. being an avenger isn't exactly a 9–5 job... it's more 24/7. you're meant to always be ready to jump into a mission when needed. with your time mainly consisting of training, meetings, and missions, you didn't exactly have free time.

this didn't stop your friends from pushing, though, and they eventually got through. so, after a few long conversations of begging stark, here you are, stumbling into the elevator of the avengers tower at like 2 in the morning, ever so slightly intoxicated. who can blame you? it was your first night off in a while; of course you took advantage of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and got shitfaced. you might regret it during training later that day, but for now, all that mattered was that you had fun with your friends.

you did regret wearing heels, though. you wanted to trade in your boots for something more fun tonight, but god, did your feet hurt. you were also dying to get out of your minidress. considering your wardrobe now reflects your job and only consists of suits and very little casual clothes, you had to borrow this dress from your friend. you were beginning to remember why you never liked to wear dresses even before joining the avengers.

the elevator dinged, and the door opened to the top floor, the avengers' quarters. you dragged yourself out, hair messy, dress slightly hiked up, and feet already blistering. your makeup made it clear you had been sweating on a dancefloor not long ago. you headed to your room when a voice stopped you in your tracks.

"where ya been?"

you turned to the source, shocked to see bucky barnes sitting on the sofa. he was laid back, one arm draped lazily on the backrest, and the other on his knee. he was almost smirking, likely having a good idea of your whereabouts based on your appearance.

you and the winter soldier weren't exactly close. he was a very quiet and reserved guy, usually a man of few words. your interactions mainly consisted of short conversation and sometimes catching him staring at you on the quinjet or in meetings. you never really thought much of it.

but his tone... his expression right now was different. it was weird, but a good weird.

"why're you awake?" you huffed, walking toward the couch.

"couldn't sleep," he stated simply, scanning your form with that smug look on his face. "you have a fun night?" he chuckled to himself a bit.

"yeah, i went out with some friends," you replied, sitting on the couch. you began fiddling with your heels, wanting to go ahead and relieve yourself of the pain. however, the alcohol was messing with your coordination, and you were struggling rather pathetically.

noticing the pout forming on your lips and the clear trouble you were having, bucky snickered, speaking in his gruff voice, "need some help?"

you looked up at him and nodded, still pouting. without a word, he moved a bit closer to you and curled his fingers around your ankles, a soft gasp escaping your lips as he rested them across his lap. you were reclining into the corner of the sofa now, watching him in shock. he hummed as his fingers slipped through the straps of the heels, sliding them off your feet gently. he set them down carefully, his free hand absentmindedly rubbing your calves.

"i've never seen you in anything but your boots," he grinned, turning his head toward you. "so, how much did you drink?" his grin turned into a knowing smirk.

you scoffed, pulling your legs away, drawing your knees to your chest. the short dress wasn’t doing you any favors, and you were probably flashing him, but bucky never looked. he was a gentleman... at least in the ways that mattered. you groaned, rubbing your face sleepily. no point in pretending.

"too much," you muttered.

"yeah, i can tell. you practically stumbled out of the elevator," he chuckled, eyes following your every move.

you let out a half-laugh, sheepish. your head dropped to rest on your knee as you sighed.

"kill me."

"not tonight, doll. i’m off duty."

your head lifted slightly, an eyebrow raising. "did you just call me ‘doll’?" you snickered at the old-fashioned nickname, trying to hide how much it made your heart beat faster.

he smirked, leaning back again with that maddening ease. "i dunno. you kinda look like one."

was he flirting? surely not. he probably saw you as some annoying kid.

"alright, old man. what do you call natasha then? sugar? darling?" you smiled lazily, thinking of more old-timey terms of endearment.

"hell no. she’d break my jaw," he grinned.

"and you think i won’t break your jaw?" you smirked, raising a brow.

bucky scoffed out a laugh. "oh, i'm sure you can, but i don't think you would."

"if i wasn't tipsy, i might've. you're getting off easy this time, grandpa," you giggled, starting to slur your words. your eyelids were beginning to feel heavy, and you found your head resting on your knee again.

bucky laughed at your slurred speech, not sure if it was the alcohol or just exhaustion. "you okay, doll?"

"mhm," you hummed, obviously dozing off.

"alright, i guess i'll babysit the lightweight," he joked, his grin never faltering.

you eventually drifted off, and so did bucky not long after. you both slept better than you had in a while. that was, until you awoke to the stunned faces of the other avengers. they definitely weren't expecting to find you in bucky's arms on the sofa. hell, you weren't expecting it either.

thanks so much for reading <3

18+ part two

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batboybisexualism · 1 year ago

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my stupid fucking doctor not only waited too long to submit my top surgery authorization but she put it down as an inpatient procedure when it's an outpatient procedure so now they have to postpone the surgery until april 23rd when it was supposed to be this fucking tuesday I'm going to fucking kill someone

#on top of all this I was like an hour late to all my dog walks this morning because my family people were delayed getting home #so I got back to nj from brooklyn way late and I have like 20 dog walks today also a surprise dentist appointment for no fucking reason #and my dentist is also a fucking idiot so that was annoying as hell #apparently the fucking surgeon's office isn't allowed to send me those authorization papers to give my doctor before 30 days before surgery #so they had several months to get me the information and have me talk to my pcp but they weren't allowed to??#and then my idiot doctor took forever to send it in despite me calling her every fucking day reminding her #and on top of that she didn't even fill it out correctly when the necessary info was right in front of her #I had to work so hard to free up two weeks to heal from this surgery and three days before the date they tell me this happens all the time #the woman on the phone was like scolding me about my doctor messing it up as if it's my fucking fault #and as if I had any way of knowing that this would all get fucked up and I'd have to force her to do it like idk four days before she did???#then she told me to calm down when I got mad at her for being a jerk about it #god I want to fucking diiiieeeeeee #all this is happening while I'm running on like three hours of sleep too by the way :)#just did my pre-surgery telehealth appointment too and the surgeon was all smiley and like 'oh yeah I'm sure it will work out!'#this was like two days ago too lmao like thanks for the heads up you piece of shit!!!!

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bizarrelovetriangel · 21 days ago

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captive.

zayne wants to smash but keeps getting interrupted.

wrote the same prompt for this sylus fic. wanted to do one for zayne also <3

starts off suggestive and flufy and ends with smut so mdni. 18+ only. grinding. oral (m and f giving and receiving). creampie. overstimulation.

Zayne traps you against the closed door, wrapping your legs around his hips while his lips devours yours.

He groans as you tug on the strands of hair just above his neck, where your hands are resting as you hang onto him. His ears are as red as his cheeks, and his breaths are heavy as he kisses you deeper.

DING.

Zayne frowns at the phone notification.

Interrupted yet again. It's the third time this week.

It's like the world is testing his patience.

Zayne is finding it harder and harder to keep himself in control.

You two were only saying goodnight to each other, and somehow the parting kiss turned into a heavy makeout session by the door, as neither of you were unable to pull away so soon.

And so his phone demanded attention, letting him know that it's time to head home so he can finish the reports that have upcoming deadlines.

"Alright, I'll be going home now — for sure this time."

"Okay! Goodnight, Zayne."

As you gave him one last goodbye kiss, Zayne used up all his strength to not kiss back as deeply as before. Otherwise, he'll end up on your bed rather than in his home office, where he should've been about fifteen minutes ago, if only he didn't get distracted.

A peck on the forehead should suffice.

For now.

"Goodnight, darling."

Two days later, you and Zayne agreed to have a quick little lunch date in his office in between work hours.

As you ate your meals, you shared all the interesting moments that happened throughout your day so far. Often, you're the one doing most of the talking, as you love to ramble about your Wanderer encounters and mysterious investigations, which you probably should've kept classified, but Zayne is special so he gets to be in the know.

Other times, such as today, Zayne would have some patients that he thinks you'd like to hear about, so they end up being your discussion topic for half of your lunch date.

Somehow, your conversations led to Zayne feeling up your biceps, for science, he said.

He was standing in front of you, between your legs, while partly bent down so that he could properly feel the muscles of your arms.

You've already forgotten why exactly he's doing that in the first place, mostly because the closeness made you forget every thought in your brain, so you're not making any complaints.

You stared at his pretty eyelashes behind his glasses. Suddenly, his eyes darted to yours, and you watched as his pupils dilated not long before his face leaned even closer.

You weren't sure who closed the distance between you two — maybe it was both of you at the same time, equally compelled to press your lips against each other.

Zayne's hands made their way to your face, just underneath your jaw to gently brush his thumbs against your skin, while your right hand traveled to the back of his neck to keep him in place.

He hummed with content against your lips, using one hand to gently adjust your face so he could kiss you deeper.

Neither of you wanted to break apart, taking only seconds to gasp for air before diving back in to each other's lips.

Your face burned along with your body as your heart races. Feeling just as flustered, Zayne reached one hand up to his tie so that he could loosen it, hoping for his body to cool down even just a little bit.

But he doubts it'll be any help. Every part of him has been ignited, and now he can't help but want you close to him.

He kisses you with a little more force that's fueled with hunger while his hands rest on your hips, just for a minute before they started to slowly slide down to your thighs.

Zayne got on his knees in front of you, still positioned between your now-parted legs. He gazed at you with lustful eyes, cheeks burning along with his red ears.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

"Doctor Zayne, do you have a minute?"

Your eyes widened at Greyson's voice from the other side of the locked door.

You looked at Zayne with shock before reaching for his tie to straigten it properly.

He blinked slowly for a moment before sighing then clearing his throat. His hand brushes with yours to help you fix his tie before responding to Greyson.

"Just a moment please."

You jumped up and planted a kiss on his cheek. "I guess it's time for me to get back to work too. See you later, Zayne. Have a good rest of your day ~"

You held back a grin as you caught his brows furrowing.

Once you reached Saturday night, it was time for your weekend date. This time, you decided to go to a restaurant that contained billiards and arcade.

Before dinner, you two challenged each other with a few round of pool. It's been a while since you two had played it, so he wanted to see if you remember the things he'd taught you.

You did remember most of his lessons and your skills have slightly gotten better, though Zayne still ended up as the winner.

You tried your best, but you didn't mind being the loser because you got to see Zayne do a whole bunch of poses that showed off his figure quite well while playing, so you were grinning a lot at the end of it.

"What are you so happy for?" Zayne asked curiously.

"Don't worry about it. Shall we eat? I'm hungry now."

"Yeah."

Dinner was perfect.

All the ordered food and drinks were delicious, so you two agreed to get dessert as well. There were a lot that looked good on the menu, so you two just chose the top two that looked most appealing.

It turns out.... that wasn't the greatest idea.

Neither of you read the tiny information that came with the pictures because you were so entranced by their appearance.

Your chosen dessert was a cute little ice cream cake that both of you finished only with a few bites.

Zayne's dessert, on the other hand....

"Darling, why are you so far away? Come a little closer."

It contained liquor.

And now....

It's better to go home as soon as possible.

You called for a taxi and the ride home wasn't so bad, except for the fact that your face was hot with embarrassment because the driver laughed at you two when Zayne buried his face on your neck while mumbling things under his breath.

A quarterway through the trip, he ended up falling asleep with his face still on your neck and shoulder, so you had to wake him up once it was time to get off.

You're technically strong enough to be able to carry him, thanks to your intense hunter training, but you're not confident that you won't drop him or make him vomit with all the shaking you will be doing to him. The right thing to do was to wake him up.

Zayne tried to press the correct code to unlock his door, but his hazy mind and slightly spinning vision prevented him from doing so.

It was just like that one time he got drunk from eating one alcoholic chocolate. Recalling the memory made you grin, and Zayne didn't fail to catch it despite his current state.

"Are you laughing at me?" he asked with narrowed eyes, and flushed, red cheeks.

"Not at all."

"Liar."

His attention shifted to you, facing away from the door so that he could look at you closely. The distance between you two was so short, you could smell the chocolate and alcohol from the dessert he had eaten.

Zayne leaned down so that his face is only a hair away from yours.

"And since you lied to me.... I might have to punish you..."

His lips suddenly covered yours with enough force for your body to be pushed back, though his hands made their way to your back to prevent you from roughly hitting anything behind you.

One blink and you found yourself trapped against his door, with Zayne's hands roaming all over your figure while his mouth explores yours in such a rushed manner.

"Zayne..."

He groaned against your lips while his hips grinds against yours. You tasted the sweetness of chocolate and the bitterness of alcohol as his tongue clashes with yours.

Forcing yourself to pull away from the intense kiss, you put a hand on his chest and used the other to fix the glasses that had slipped down to the bridge of his nose.

He slightly shook his head and rubbed his eyes, feeling his vision worsening by the second. He was looking more red too, and you're unsure if it's because he's flustered or if it's from all the alcohol. Either way, it's better if he cools off for now.

"Let's go inside and get you some water."

As you turned around to press the security code for his door, Zayne wrapped his arms around your chest to hug you from behind, resting his chin on your right shoulder.

Once the door finally opened, you had to walk towards his bedroom while he was still embracing you, so that was a challenge that took some time to accomplish.

You sat him down on his bed.

"Stay here while I get you some water and the medicine to make you feel better."

Zayne was quick to grab your wrist just as you were about to leave. "Wait, stay here..."

"I'll only be gone for a few seconds, I promise."

He huffs. "Fine. But if you're not back within three seconds, I'll have to punish you."

Somebody is quite intent on punishing you tonight.

Supressing a chuckle, you nodded and patted his head. "Alright."

"One."

"What?! Already?! I haven't even taken a step yet!"

"Two."

"Oh my god — "

You sprinted to the kitchen to fill a glass of water, then you darted to the medicine cabinet for the pill that'd make him sober up, and the one that would make his stomach calm down, just in case.

Out of breath, you returned to his room and found Zayne lying down on the bed, already sleeping and snoring softly.

It was such an adorable sight, you can't help but sit beside him and pet his head.

"So, is this my punishment?" you brushed some strands of his hair away from his forehead. "I get to watch you sleep like a baby?"

You undressed him and put on his pajamas so that he could sleep more comfortably, then you repositioned his body so that he's lying down properly, in a way that won't hurt his back tomorrow morning. Luckily, he didn't wake up from all the movements.

You took a quick shower and got dressed into your night attire before joining him in bed. As you closed your eyes, you recalled his cute drunk expressions, and so you fell asleep with a smile on your face.

You didn't see Zayne for five days due to a faraway mission. On the day of your return, however, you ended up meeting him by accident.

"No way, Zayne!"

His eyes widened as soon as he saw you waving at him, sitting alone on a table at the back of the busy cafe.

He almost ran into a delinquent-looking highschool boy as he quickly made his way towards you.

"Hey, watch it, old man!" the boy growls, but Zayne paid him no attention as all of it are on you.

Zayne set his iced vanilla latte next to your macchiato and took an empty chair, pushed it right next to yours before taking a seat. Your knees touch at the closeness.

"I didn't know you're back already." he gave you a frown. "You didn't tell me anything."

You shrank down into your seat, feeling a little guilty. "We got back two days earlier than planned since we wrapped up everything quicker than expected. I was just about to send you a message right now! See?"

You unlocked your phone to reveal your half-written text message to Zayne, inviting him for dinner tonight.

"I thought you'd be working right now, so I was going to ask you out later."

Zayne relaxed and nodded his head. "I have some time before my next patient's appointment, so I went out to get something to drink. This cafe's latte is much better than the one that the hospital. I had no idea I'd see you in here."

The cafe is not too far from Akso Hospital, and it was on the way to the hunters' headquarter, halfway from the train station. You saw a woman drinking coffee and got jealous, so you got one as well. And now, you're sitting with Zayne as a bonus.

"So, how did your mission go?" Zayne's eyes scanned your figure to see if you had any injuries that required medical attention. "You came back without a scratch this time. I'm proud of you."

You laughed and playfully bumped your knee with his. "So mean! I'm not always injured after a mission!"

"You're right. Not always. For one out of every five missions, you'd successfully return with only two bruises. This time, however, there's not a single scratch on you, so consider it your greatest achievement."

He was on fire today.

"Alright, I get it." you scoff, though you're unable to stop yourself from smiling.

You've only been away for five days but you missed him.

"So, let me tell you about the guy that was behind the whole thing! You're not supposed to know this but I'm gonna tell you anyways so don't tell anyone that I told you."

As you began to ramble about your mission, Zayne tries his best to listen, especially since he genuinely loves hearing about all the crazy things you do at work. You always sound like a cool superhero that fights monsters and saves the day. He'll always be proud of you.

But right now, Zayne can't help but be distracted by.... you.

His eyes studied the features of your face and his fingers want to caress them, so that he could feel your warmth and softness. Instead, Zayne kept his hands wrapped around his cold drink, as if to stop himself from reaching for you.

As you spoke, your legs casually swayed and would ocassionally bump into his. Once again, his hands yearned to feel them. He wanted to run a hand from your knees to your thighs, recalling how it feels whenever he's between them.

And when his mind went to what's in between your thighs, Zayne exhaled slowly before taking a long sip of his iced coffee.

"...and then we discovered their hideout and — Zayne, are you feeling okay?"

He blinked out of his trance as he felt your hand touch his cheek.

"You're so warm and red!"

Zayne held the hand that was on his face.

"I'm alright. I just.... want to hold you..."

Your eyes softened and your thumb gently rubbed his cheek.

For a moment, you two stayed like that without saying anything. Just for a brief minute, it felt like you two were alone, just appreciating each other's presence.

But soon enough, you got a reminder that you were not alone, at all.

"Oops! My bad, old man!" the highschool boy that Zayne almost ran into had passed by right behind him and his elbow accidentally hit Zayne on the back.

After you pulled back from him, Zayne raised one hand in dismissal. "It's alright, no worries."

He then glanced at the time and let out a sigh before turning back to you. "I have to get back to work now."

"Oh, yeah." you almost forgot. "I'll get going too!"

You and Zayne stood up and walked out of the cafe together.

"The dinner that you have yet to ask me about..." Zayne points at your phone. "Send me the time and place. Let's meet up later."

"Oh!" you lit up with excitement, not expecting him to remember the invitation and actually go through with it. "Yeah, I'll send you the details in a bit! See you later, Zayne!"

This time, Zayne made sure to order his dessert carefully, so you two were able to end dinner without worrying about anyone intoxicated.

After getting another plushie to add to your collection, you two returned to his place. As Zayne finished up a paperwork in his office, you decided to take a shower.

The hot water felt so nice, so you ended up being there longer than intended.

So long that Zayne decided to check up on you.

And join you.

"Wha — Zayne!"

"You were taking too long. I need to take a shower too."

It's not the first time you two showered together, so it's not a big deal. Still, seeing him naked out of the blue did get your heart racing, for many reasons.

"Using my shampoo?" you raised a brow, watching as Zayne grabs the purple shampoo bottle instead of the blue one.

"Only because mine ran out faster than usual, for some odd reason..."

"Hmm... that is weird, hahaha!" you're definitely not guilty, at all. "Anyways, let me help you!" you grabbed his arms and forced him to lower down so that you could reach his hair.

Zayne gave no objection and allowed you to play with his foam-covered hair, chuckling at your level of concentration.

A few minutes later, as you're washing off soap from his body, you got the urge to write a hidden message on his back.

With your index finger, you wrote:

'<3 you.'

You grinned at your work despite having no evidence of it.

"If you have something to tell me, say it to my face, not my back."

Zayne turned around to face you, just in time to watch your grin vanish as you became surprised.

"What?! How did you know?!"

He smiled with amusement. "I'm a doctor who knows a lot of things."

"You are such a comedian."

Zayne disregarded your sarcastic reply and held your hands that reached up to his face to pinch his cheeks.

"So are you going to tell me what you wrote on my back?"

"I thought you know it already, Doctor Zayne."

"I do. But I want to hear you say it."

He leaned down towards your face and your entire body became nervous all of a sudden.

"Wow, look at this! We're wasting water! Better turn it off." you tried to run away by moving to the other side to turn off the shower valve.

Zayne didn't let you go easily.

He came up behind you, spun you around and trapped you against the wall, left arm blocking your upper left side and his right hand pressed against the wall, right next to your hips.

"I'm sorry, I can't let you run away again." he whispered before kissing you just under your right ear. "I haven't seen you for days, but it feels longer." He recalled all the times he'd gotten interrupted every time things are just starting to heat up. "I might just have to.... keep you captive."

You failed to come up with a proper response as his words had your mind melting and overheating.

No, it's not just your mind, but your body as well.

As he starts to slowly leave a trail of kisses from your ear to your neck, your heart skipped a beat and your face heated up along with the rest of you body. Your legs weakened, and your core clenched with excitement.

After leaving a couple of marks on your skin, just above your collar bones, Zayne focused on your lips.

Keeping a slow and gentle pace, he kissed you passionately, over and over again, going in deeper everytime.

Once his tongue slipped betwen your lips, your hands moved from his back to his shoulders so that you could pull him closer while simultaneously keeping yourself steady, just in case your knees give out from the way he's making you feel.

Your thighs burned with desire, especially when something hard suddenly poked you.

Zayne moaned as his cock twitched and its tip had grazed your soft, sensitive skin, hot and wet just for him.

"Let's take this inside, okay?"

You vigorously nodded your head and wrapped your arms around his shoulders while he grabbed onto your legs to wrap them around his hips.

At his movement, his cock once again brushed against your pussy and the two of you failed to hold back a gasp from the pleasant wave of sensation that stuck your bodies.

Zayne carried you out of the bathroom and onto the bed, not caring much about his sheets getting wet from your bodies, still slightly wet from the shower.

He sat you down at the edge of the bed and got on his knees, positioning himself right between your legs.

Just then, his phone started ringing.

He freezes, and your mouth drops.

Interrupted again?

This has to be the worst one of all, you thought.

But Zayne ignored it.

His hands went to your legs and parted them so he could make more room for himself.

"Wait, are you not gonna answer that?"

"I told the hospital that I'd be busy and won't be able to get back to them at all. Whatever it is, it's not important."

You are much more important.

Right now, all he wants to do is make you feel good, so that's what he's going to do.

Zayne buries his face between your thighs and his tongue massages your folds, causing you to gasp and grasp his shoulders.

The movement of his tongue increased its pace as he devoured you deeper. He hummed with satisfaction, enjoying how you taste. At last, he finally gets to have you.

He'll be sure to take his time.

He'll make sure every part of you gets the attention it deserves.

No matter how deep, he'll be sure that you feel all of him.

And so, as soon as you reached your climax and squirted all over his mouth, Zayne licked his lips and moved on to your breasts, taking his time to suck each one and leaving a mark near them.

Soon, he led you farther into the bed, ready to get on top of you. However, after seeing his hardening cock coated with pre-cum, you pulled him down on the mattress and straddled his thighs.

Zayne's breath hitched as you lowered your face onto his hips before taking his cock into your mouth. He groans at the feeling of your lips and tongue enveloping and caressing him so tightly, he can't help but thrust upwards just a little.

RING RING RING.

Your eyes widened as your ringtone blared loudly, causing you and Zayne to glance at your phone on the nightstand, right next to his.

Zayne frowned and took a glance at the lit-up screen of your phone.

"Would you like to answer Andrew's call, darling?"

With his cock still inside your mouth, you furrowed your brows and shook your head.

"Are you sure? It might be important."

One death glare from you, and Zayne chuckles and rejects the call. He silences your phone before returning it on the nightstand.

He was just about to say something, most likely a teasing remark judging by the smirk on his face, so you quickly put all of his length in your mouth, taking him as deep as you could. Zayne flinched and threw his head back, grunting loudly while his fingers cling onto the sheets of his bed.

At that moment, he came inside your mouth.

You swallowed as much as you could, though there had been so much that your lips, and portions of cheeks and chin had gotten painted white as well.

Zayne breathes heavily while his cock remains hard and twitching, just like how your pussy is even more wet than before.

He sat up and captured your lips roughly, with one hand on your neck, holding you just strong enough to keep you in place, but nowhere near enough to hurt you.

His kisses are tender and packed with hunger. He only just tasted you, but he wants more. And you're just as desperate, kissing him back just as forceful while one of your hand run up and down his chest, feeling his fast-beating heart.

You slowly start to sway your hips and grind on his thighs, immediately making him gasp. His cock pokes your entrance, demanding to feel you, so you take it and ease it in you.

Zayne rested a hand on the small of your back once you slowly began to move up and down, matching the pace of his lips that dances against yours.

Every part of him wanted to grab your ass and urge you to move faster, but Zayne wanted to take it slow tonight.

He wants to take his time.

He's not going anywhere and neither will you.

Tonight, there won't be any interruptions.

So, there's no need to rush.

You'll have each other for as long as you want, for as long as you can.

When he reached his second climax, Zayne remained inside you. Even when some had spilled out, he continued to thrust into you.

He kissed you as you cried with pleasure, feeling overwhelmed with the euphoric feeling all over your body.

"Just a little more, okay?"

You nodded as a response, barely understanding his words due to your spinning mind. You gasped for air as Zayne gently nudged down on your stomach before going on top of you, aligning his cock against your ass.

He kissed your ear before entering you once again.

Just as promised, he kept you as a captive.

He took his time with you and stopped at nothing until both of you could no longer keep your eyes open.

"By the way..."

Just before you could fall asleep, Zayne, who was lying down next to you, drew something on your back using his index finger.

'<3 you.'

#was that ending too cheesy??? mayhaps but i like it hehe #love and deepspace #zayne #zayne x reader #zayne smut #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace zayne #lads #lynnsfics #lads zayne #zayne lads #lnds #love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #lads smut #love and deepspace smut

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ang3ltine · 1 month ago

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"𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐭𝐬?"- Bucky barnes x former Avenger freader

An unexpected surprise awaits you when Bucky shows up at your house with a group of strangers

a.n - This is just a scenario of what it would be like for the members of the thunderbolts to crash at your place. Also this fic contains spoilers!

Warnings - John Walker, dark humour, mention of injuries, minor cursing, making out and major fluff!!

"You gotta be kidding me, were not seriously bringing Bob with us are we?"

"Look Captain America, if it weren't for Bob we wouldn't have made it out of that death trap of a lab alive!" Yelena replies sternly. "Besides, he seems to have more discipline than you'd ever have."

This seemed to tick John off as the two of them started shouting back and forth, while Bob sat between the two of them awkwardly.

"Ok uhm...can we maybe...not fight?" He mutters under his breath but was completely ignored. Ava rolls her eyes at the childish scene before her and flickers her gaze down towards the nervous man. Silently telling him that it wasn't worth wasting his breath.

Surprisingly enough, he understood rather quickly and kept his mouth shut. Bucky groans in annoyance at the bickering in the backseats, and it didn't help either when a large man was snoring away next to him.

But swiftly brushes it off after pulling into a familiar driveway. He hadn't been back at this house for about a week now, so he was dreading what awaited him when he opened the doors. Especially since he has four other guests with him, who he quite recently found acquaintanceship with just a few days ago.

"Listen up, we're staying at this place for a while until things die down. So please, don't make this harder for me than it already is." Bucky states as the the group follows him down the pathway towards a red brick secluded house that was tucked in a small corner of New York City.

They all exchanged confused looks before reluctantly nodding at the grumpy man, with a few grunts and hushed responses. Honestly they were just really tired and their bodies were sore so there was no use in complaining.

"God - I hope she's in a good mood..." Bucky mumbles before reaching into his pocket to fish out his keys and was about to put it into the keyhole. Only to be interrupted midway as he hears the sound of another car pulling up behind him.

"Bucky honey? Is that you?!"

Everyone turned around at the sudden mention of 'Bucky' and 'honey' in the same sentence. All but Bucky himself as he walks back down the pathway towards you.

"Did I hear that right? There's no way Mr. Congressman would have a girlfriend." Ava whispers to the others as they all watched him walk past the minivan, disappearing from their sight.

There were mixed reactions as they all talked amongst themselves, trying to figure out who you might be.

You were pretty confused as well since there was a dirty minivan parked in your driveway. As soon as you step out of your car to examine the vehicle, you catch a glimpse of a figure in the corner of your eye.

Adrenaline kicked in almost immediately, thinking maybe this was going to be a robbery. I mean you do live in a pretty sketchy neighbourhood so it was possible. The sun was setting so it was pretty difficult to see who it could be, you had your fighting stance ready as the person steps out of the shadows.

"God Bucky! You could've said something instead of sneaking up on me like that!" You yelled and tried calming yourself since your heart was practically hammering against your chest.

"Yeah sorry 'bout that doll, didn't mean to scare you," Bucky drawls as he pulls you into his arm for a warm embrace. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you bury your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in the strong scent of gasoline mixed with his cologne.

There was sand mixed with dirt on his tough leather jacket, but you didn't question it since he had finished a mission. Honestly speaking, you were just glad he was home again.

You then peer over Bucky's shoulder and finally noticed the rugged group of individuals standing in your porch.

They wanted to see what all the fuss was about so they snuck up on the couple and spied on them from behind the van. You were about to open your mouth to say something before spotting a familiar face amongst them.

She had short and slightly messy bob cut and an oddly cute frown on her face. Yelena steps forward hesitantly while examining your face at the same time, seemingly trying to figure out where she had seen you before.

Then it clicks, you were her older sisters best friend. She remembers how kind and comforting you acted towards her whenever she'd come to visit her sister.

You spread open your arms for her and without hesitation, Yelena falls into your embrace.

"Its good to see you 'lena," you murmured into her hair while she smiles at the mention of her nickname.

" 's good to see you too..."

Bucky joins the rest of the group, a small smile tugged at his lips as they all watched the heartwarming scene unfold before them.

He's not sure what waited them past this, but for now, he just wants this disfunctional group of anti-heroes to find some sort of peace while they stayed here.

"Sorry I brought them here on such short notice," Bucky mutters as he leans down to your height when you let the others into your house.

"Ahh it's no biggy. Besides, I'm happy to have more house guests." You quipped while closing the door after Bob awkwardly walks in as the last in line.

Everyone had already made their way down the hall towards the living room to look around. Yelena let's out a long whistle as she checks out the place, to be fair, your house was quite spacious since you got the best place in the neighbourhood thanks to Pepper.

Although she insisted on getting you a penthouse, you turned down the offer.

"What's this?" Alexei asks with curiosity after picking up a delicately crafted box. You ran over to where he was and effortlessly took it from his hands so that he doesn't break it.

"Oh well - it's a gift from a friend. She's gone now...so I like to keep it up on the mantle to remember her by." You say in a hushed tone while you look down at the detailed craftsmanship in your hands.

Alexei knew exactly how you felt, so he placed a large hand on your shoulder and gave you a light squeeze of acknowledgement. "I understand, Alexei has been through much loss just like you."

Thanks to Yelena, you had the privilege of meeting Alexei a few years back when Natasha was still alive. So you were happy to have both of them back in your life.

"Dad, you can stop bothering her now. You've said enough shit already." Yelena groans while dragging Alexei away from you since he was still rambling on about Natasha and how much you reminded him of her.

"Do we have enough space for them?" You felt Bucky's fingers brush against the back of your hand to get your attention since you were still deep in thought.

"Hey...you ok doll?" Bucky asks with a worried tone since you hadn't responded to his previous question. You snap out of your thoughts and look to your left to see Bucky by your side. His brows were furrowed as he brought up his other unoccupied hand to cup your cheek.

"Uh yeah..! I'm fine," you respond with a tight-lipped smile. Bucky had just come back from a mission, so you didn't want him to now worry about you too. He wanted to press on but then thought it would be better if he just let it slide this time.

"Are we sleeping down here?!" Yelena yells from another room down the hall. The rest of you make your way to where Yelena was, she had found one of the guest rooms and was already laying down on the neatly done sheets.

"You could've at least taken a shower before hopping onto the bed," Bucky sighed in disappointment. Yelena's clothes were pretty dirty since they had come back from the desert.

"Oh right! Sorry that was my bad," Yelena responds in a muffled voice as her face was now planted into the plush pillows.

"Its fine, there's extra duvet covers in the storage closet," you say while walking towards the walk-in closet in the room. "Don't worry guys! There's more rooms upstairs."

"Do we have to share? I'm not sure how I'd feel if I have Santa Clause sharing a bed with me." John grunted while crossing his arms. You assumed he was referring to Alexei , which almost made you snort in response.

"I'm serious! Does he not look like the Russian Santa Claus to you?" John carries one while Yelena lets out a coarse laugh from the bed.

"Pfft - sorry John, there's only 3 guest rooms, so you have to pick your roommate wisely." Bob lifts his hand up shyly and clears his throat.

"I wouldn't mind sharing...if that's OK with you?" John thought about it for a moment before giving in. "You know what? Why not?"

"Great! That leaves one more vacant room -" You were cut off by another female voice.

"I'll take it," Ava replies rather quickly. John was about to protest and say that he changed his mind, but Ava gives him a sharp look which made him backdown. You were going to ask for her name, only to be cut off yet again.

"Oh right sorry, the name's Ava," she says plainly while giving you a small smile.

"Uhh OK cool, it's nice to meet you Ava. Let me guess, you also have an incredibly sad back story like the rest of us?"

"Oh God, don't even get me started..."

"Also...what's all this talk about 'thunderbolts'?" You prodded while giving Ava a confused look. Ava curses underneath her breath while the others shout in since that they're not called 'the thunderbolts.'

"Thunderbolts yes!! That's my lovely 'lena's football team name from when she was a child -"

"Dad please stop--!" Yelena groans while trying to get Alexei to stay quiet. It brought a smile to your face to see how liveley your house had become after being alone for a week.

"Alright, is there anyone here who needs medical care?" You asked while handing the new duvet sheets to Yelena.

"I think all of us do," Yelena sighed while clutching her side. She was so excited to finally sleep on a comfortable bed that the adrenaline rush took over, making her forget about the pain.

You nodded before turning back to the group. "Right, who wants to go first?"

Everyone had lined up in the washroom to get themselves checked since it would be easier for you to clean up afterwards.

You were currently bandaging Yelena's arm as she winces slightly. If anything, she had been through the worst due to the others being practically impenetrable.

"Just leave this on for a few weeks and take some painkillers. Trust me, the pain will be gone before you know it."

"Ok, thank you," Yelena exhaled while she got up to let the next person in. John walks into your view as you clean up the area for him to take his seat on the stool. The space was pretty cramped since you chose the guest washroom instead of the large one upstairs.

"Hey John, got any major inuries?" You asked while preparing a wetcloth and some bandages. John stops you midway and he shook his head.

"No not really, just have a few cuts on my face and the side of my head." True enough, he looked like he was perfectly fine except for some cuts and grazes that was scattered across his face.

You almost forgot that he took the super soldier serum back when he was Captain America. It was hard to forgot since you were with Sam and Bucky at the time. You nodded before putting away the bandages and took your seat infront of him. Now that you were face to face with him, you noticed how mature, yet different he looked from before.

"Must've been rough for you, running from the law." You start off by cleaning some of the smaller cuts with some wipes. "Trust me...I would know."

You were referring to the time you were on the run with Steve and the others for two years after freeing Bucky. That was how you two met and became close in Wakanda.

"You have no idea..." John responds with a slight waver in his voice. You choose not to press further and lightly dab the bigger cut on the side of his eyebrow.

Unbeknownst to you, John was silently admiring the way you were taking care of him. He doesn't mean this in a creepy way, rather he's surprised that anyone would show an ounce of care for him due to his character and lack of social awareness.

Bucky, on the other hand, misunderstood the scene completely. He had a glass of water in his hand when he went to check up on you. The water that was already in his mouth almost made him choke as he saw the way John made doe eyes at you.

As much as he wanted to strangle the man on the spot, he waited and observed at the doorframe. A smile threatened to tug at the corner of your lips as you felt the presence of the jealous man boring his eyes at the side of your head.

"Relax hon', John's just being John." Speaking of John, he blinked at you in confusion before looking up to see Bucky shooting bullets at him with his eyes.

"Don't worry, he's not going to do anything." You whispered before placing a clear bandaid on the scar. John didn't know if he felt reassured or threatened, so as soon as you finished, he scrambles to his feet.

Bucky steps aside to let John leave, but not before leaning towards him to say something. John flickers his gaze between you and Bucky before leaving with a terrified look on his face.

"Bucky dear, what did you say to him?" You sighed while placing the remainder of the medical equipment back in the medicine cabinet.

"Oh nothing really, just...gave him a peptalk." Bucky responds with a smug smirk as he walks into the washroom. You raise an eyebrow at him, which prompted Bucky to pull you in close by your waist with his arms.

"I didn't threaten him doll," Bucky drawls while bumping his forehead against yours, letting his hair frame his face. It was slightly damp with clumps of sand still stuck in some places. You'd have to remind him to take a shower later after dinner.

"Uh huh, that's why he left like a pale ghost? Because you gave him a 'peptalk'," you mused while playing with the lose strands of Bucky's hair that fell over his eyes. Bucky chuckles softly before responding.

"Right...just a peptalk." Your breath hitches when he bends down to your height while his hair tickled your nose from a loose strand.

"You know you're a really bad liar, right?" You huffed while the rough pad of Bucky's thumb ran gently across your cheek. Your skin felt soft and warm underneath his touch since the blood had rushed to the surface, painting a soft hue of red across your cheeks.

"So? Is that a bad thing?" Bucky's voice goes an octave lower while he inches closer towards your lips, his breath now heavy against yours. His scent flooded your senses, it was a mixture of his cologne and his natural musk from his skin. He hesitates before flickering his gaze up to you again. Silently begging for your permission.

You pondered for a moment while tapping a finger on your chin. "Hmm, do you really deserve a kiss?"

Bucky tilts his head to the side before giving you a deadpan look. But you knew that he was fighting back a smile, so you were the first to lean in. He did deserve a reward for being the amazing partner that he was. Except, he was too quick for you.

He dips his head low, and presses his slightly chapped lips against yours, practically melting into yours. The kiss was gentle yet full of desire. Head tilting the side, his hot breath mingling with yours as his tongue dragged gently across your bottom lip.

Coaxing you to open your mouth. Your tongue meets his as the hand slips down towards your waist. Pressing his fingers into your supple skin, which will definitely leave marks considering how tight his grip was. Not that he didn't mean to, of course.

"Love you s'much," your voice was barely a whisper as it was all becoming too much for you. Bucky let's out a small chuckle as you began to pepper his face with quick pecks before moving back to his lips.

He could picture his lips were probably now a sugary pink colour due to the lipbalm that you wore. The brand was probably called... Summer Fridays? Or something across that line.

"Love you too angel..." he mumbled against your plush lips.

The couple completely unaware that Yelena, Ava and Bob was spying on them from afar with popcorn in hand.

"Guys...I feel a sneeze coming," Bob whispers towards the two women sitting next to him.

"Cucumber! Cucumber! Cucumber!!" Both Ava and Yelena whisper shouted back and forth hurriedly. But it was no use, the sneeze along with their hushed shouting caught the attention of the couple in the washroom.

Needless to say, they learned their lesson from Bucky after an hour long lecture of why they shouldn't spy on people. That also included the punishment of getting limited screen time on the TV as well as playing video games.

p.s - I really love John's character and I believe he has some depth to him that could be explored more

Taglist: @doodlebob-mp3 @marianastudiesart @ordelixx @starktonyx @hisredheadedgoddess28 @avatarobsessedgirly @perdidosbucky-yyo

#bucky barnes #thunderbolts #yelena belova #thunderbolts x reader #thunderbolts fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #sebastian stan characters #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction

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sprenthecreator · 3 months ago

Text

IMPURITIES EP. 1 | N.Y. State of Mind

Male reader x Yunjin, Chaewon

First chapter of this LSF mini-series.

word count: 8.3k

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When HYBE made you sign that contract over two years ago, you had no idea that you were going to be managing five wild, unruly girls. If you had known, maybe your signature wouldn't have been on that piece of paper, but at that point in your life, you needed the job; it was either that or starve. Besides, as a frequent K-Pop fan, it really was your dream job, so there weren't many issues with it; it was perfect.

But you never imagined that at your age, you would feel so close to going gray because of the behavior of those girls.

Maybe you were exaggerating and being a little grumpy. After all, they were girls around your age, so you could easily put yourself in their shoes and understand what was going through their heads. However, with all that, there were things that you would never be able to understand in your life simply because you weren't a woman. It might sound sexist, but it was the only explanation you could find.

At first they were little angels, as always happened in such cases; you were a stranger to them, and of course they weren't going to behave like unruly teenagers from day one. But as the days went by—yes, days, not even months—, the ones who seemed to be well-behaved and obedient girls turned out to be a pain in the ass 70% of the time.

To be honest, you couldn't say you didn't love them all. They were unbearable most of the time, but they were also endearing, and you could say you considered them good friends. What other choice did you have? You couldn't be at odds with the girls you would spend seven years of your life with, so there had to be a joint effort on both sides to not make discord the status quo. The results were positive, and even though they continued to do their misdeeds, you had learned to tolerate them for your mental health.

Two years later you were practically a family, having gone through both ups and downs. The emotional journey had been intense and rough, both for you and them. The things you had to deal with were rubbish: tight schedules, physical and mental overload, and most often, tons of hate on social media from out-of-work mentally retarded people. But like the family you had become, you faced each adversity with a firm grip.

And now you were facing the most stressful thing an artist could go through: a damn tour. But not just a tour, also a performance at one of the biggest music festivals in the world, something that even you were terrified of, and if you were terrified, you couldn't even imagine how they felt at what would be one of the most important moments of their careers.

You were all excited, though. The arrival in Los Angeles was smooth and uneventful, both at the airport and later at the hotel. However, things started to go wrong the very next day, at the sound and stage checks for the festival. As a manager, it was your job to absorb the vast majority of those problems so that the girls didn't have to worry, but due to factors beyond your control, it ended up affecting them directly and therefore, it also affected their final performance.

It wasn't a great performance; everyone was disappointed, but you remained strong and encouraging for them to keep them from falling apart, especially in the days to come when social media was at its hate peak and the criticism just kept coming. It was part of your job, but more than a manager, those couple of days you were just a friend to them, and the bonds became even stronger. It was hard to have to get to the point of having to disable all comments on every platform, but it was the best measure you could suggest as a professional who looked after her artists.

Coachella aside, preparations for the rest of the tour were going great. There weren't too many dates due to scheduling issues for the next few months, when the girls would have to start preparing for their next comeback, so you would only visit a few big cities until next year, which is when you would go to Europe as well.

The first stop of the tour was none other than New York, the city where Yunjin had grown up. You had arrived from Los Angeles in the morning, and at noon you were already checking in at the Park Hyatt for your stay for the next three days. The day of arrival was free, then the next was the rehearsal at the venue and the last day was the concert.

"Okay, listen to me everyone," you said, standing in the middle of them with the room cards in hand. You were in the lobby, near one of the many bars in the hotel. "You have a room for each of you, but if you want to share that's your problem," you handed each of them their cards. "If you're going to leave the hotel please notify me or I’ll kill myself and then blame you in your dreams."

"I'm not planning on doing anything today," Sakura said, taking her card. "I'm exhausted and I just want to finish knitting the hat I was making."

"Can you teach me?" Eunchae asked, standing next to Kura and holding onto her arm.

"What, knitting?" Sakura looked at her. Eunchae just nodded with a pair of bright, excited eyes. "Alright, I'll see what I can do."

"I'm playing Overwatch with a friend later," Kazuha said. "So I won't be going out either."

"What friend?" you asked, out of curiosity.

"That's not your problem, why do you want to know?"

You sighed.

"I'm literally just asking."

Chaewon and Yunjin were muttering things to each other, between giggles and knowing glances. You looked at them with a raised eyebrow.

"And what about you two, anything to say?"

They both looked at you with their arms linked, their eyes innocent and their lips pursed to keep from laughing.

"Nope, nothing," Yunjin shook her head.

"You're lying," you looked at Chaewon. "You're going out tonight, aren't you?"

"We already told you no!" she protested. "Why would you distrust us?"

"I can list the reasons and finish tomorrow."

"Oh come on, you're exaggerating," Yunjin patted your chest a couple of times. "We're not going out, really."

"Yeah, we're just going to eat snacks and watch a couple movies," Chaewon nodded.

You narrowed your eyes and looked at both of them for a few seconds. Suspicious, too suspicious. You weren't sure if they were really going out, but they were up to something, that much was obvious.

"Fine, I'll choose to believe you," you said. "Now go, I have a meeting with the venue staff and I can't be late."

The girls went to their rooms, and you asked one of your assistants to take your luggage to yours. The meeting was an hour long, but you had to be there at least twenty minutes early, so you hurried out of the hotel to the venue, to arrange everything related to the logistics of tomorrow and the day of the concert.

The meeting in question started at 1 in the afternoon and ended at 4. Then you and part of your team went to lunch, and at around 7 you were back at the hotel. Your day was not over yet, but the rest of your work could be done calmly from the comfort of your room.

Upon going up and entering your room you went straight to take a shower, then put your laptop on the desk next to the hallway and got to work, with headphones on and a can of Monster that you had bought during lunch.

Your inbox was full, and you were a bit of a workaholic, so you immediately locked in and got going. In these situations you always lost track of time, which was pretty unhealthy but you couldn't help it no matter how hard you tried. But you had to admit that this time you had gone too far, because it was 3 in the fucking morning.

There were still some things to attend to, but it was time to draw the line and set a limit, because otherwise you would end up seeing the sunrise when the next day you should be in full physical and mental prime. So you closed your laptop, rubbed your eyes and took off your headphones before standing up.

Whenever you went to sleep after sitting for a long time you had the habit of taking a walk to stretch your legs, and since there was no space in your room to do it comfortably, you opted for the hotel hallways. So you grabbed your phone, a small jar of M&M's, and left the room.

As expected, the hallways at that hour were deserted. To other people it would have seemed spooky, but to you it was relaxing for the simple fact that no noise pollution of any kind reached your ears, just the sound of the ventilation and the videos you occasionally watched on Twitter at low volume.

But soon you were no longer alone. Just as you reached the elevator to turn around and go back to your room, the elevator dinged and the doors swung wide open.

What you didn't expect was that the ones coming out of there would be two hot girls in cocktail mini dresses and high heels, and that...

Wait a fucking minute.

"Oh this has to be a fucking joke," you sighed, bringing your hands up to your face to lift your head and run both through your hair.

"M-Manager-nim, uhm, we can explain!" Chaewon hurried to say, exiting the elevator with Yunjin.

“Don’t talk to me,” you said, holding up a finger. You didn’t want to know anything, so you turned around and started walking back to your room.

“No, wait!” Yunjin said, chasing after you. “Where are you going? U-Uh… What are you going to do?”

“I said don’t talk to me,” you replied, looking ahead. The two of them walked behind you, right behind your shoulders. “I’ll report you to HYBE so you can get into trouble.”

"No! Please don't!" Chaewon pleaded, shaking your arm slightly. "No no no! We're sorry!"

"It was my idea!" Yunjin snapped. "It's just that if we told you what we were going to do, you wouldn't let us!"

"I wonder why," you said. "I can smell the alcohol coming off of you two."

"We're not even drunk!" Chaewon said. "I swear! Please forgive us!"

"I don't care, you crossed the line," you shook your head. "It would have been easier if you had just been honest with me from the start."

"So you refused to let us out?" Yunjin asked, defiant. "It was easier to just sneak out and be done with it! And besides, what the hell are you doing up at this hour?"

"Managing your reckless ass and looking out for your future. But I see you don't care about that."

At that moment you arrived in front of your door, but before you could put your hand on the knob, Chaewon stepped in between to stop you. Your bodies were very close, and only then did you pay attention to how she was dressed. It was a short, tight black dress, with a considerable neckline and long sleeves that went from her shoulders to cover her hands. She looked so hot in it that it distracted you for a moment, but not enough to forget your mission.

“Kim Chaewon, step aside,” you demanded.

“Aniyo,” she shook her head.

“Oh come on, manager-nim,” you heard Yunjin say quietly behind you, close to your ear. She put her hands on your shoulders and squeezed them gently. “Why don’t you relax a little?”

“Don’t tell me to relax when you guys lied to me so blatantly,” you replied, still looking at Chaewon. “Get out of the way.”

Chaewon glanced at Yunjin over your shoulder and showed a hint of a smile, before stepping away from your door and closing the small distance between you.

“We already told you we were sorry, manager-nim,” Chaewon said, placing a hand on your chest. You felt her breath against yours. “There’s no need to be so grumpy.”

She very subtly pressed her body tight against yours, looking into your eyes with slightly parted lips. You knew perfectly well her intentions because you were no fool, and you wanted to respectfully push her away and enter your room, but a stronger part of you kept your feet rooted there.

“Chaewon-ah…” you sighed, trying to change her mind.

Yunjin pressed herself against you as well, making you feel her chest against your back. She wrapped one arm around your abdomen and slipped the other hand into the left pocket of your sweatpants.

"Why don't you come with us to the pool so you can reconsider this whole thing?" the redhead asked in your ear.

"Yeah, I think all those emails have saturated your mind," Chaewon said, wrapping her arms around your neck. One hand stayed on your shoulder and the other went up to ruffle your hair. "Let us help you clear your head a little."

Before you could say anything, Yunjin lowered her hand from your abdomen and brought it to your bulge, just rubbing it up and down with her palm. Then any desire you had to go to your room and write that email vanished. Still, you didn't want to get too proactive just yet, you wanted to keep some of your dignity and see how far they would take it.

"So? What do you say?" Yunjin insisted, slowly making you hard. "You coming with us?"

Again the words got caught in your mouth when Chaewon suddenly pulled you into a kiss. Everything happened too fast for you to resist, and before you knew it you were wrapped up in a sensual kiss with her, your hands on that small sexy waist. Yunjin was now massaging your already hard cock, her head on the side of yours as she watched you and Chaewon kiss. That was what finally got you into the whole deal.

“You know this is wrong, right?” you asked against Chaewon’s lips, and you turned around to face Yunjin, who thanks to her heels was just as tall as you. Her dress was even shorter than Chaewon’s: burgundy velvet, strapless and an A-line skirt, perfect for showing off that perfect pair of legs. “Not only because I’m your manager, but because you have a sound check later.”

Yunjin put a hand on your shoulder and pressed herself against you. You instinctively wrapped one arm around her waist to hold her. It should have put you off by the fact that you'd never touched her like that in two years, but fuck, you were two people almost the same age, and she was a hot girl; you weren't going to miss that golden opportunity no matter how upset you were with the two of them.

"I've been on more important errands on less sleep, honey," she said, running the tip of her tongue along the side of her upper lip. Her hand still playing with your cock over your sweatpants. "So I don't care."

"Yeah, I know you don't care," you said before kissing her.

Yunjin had probably the most attractive lips you had ever seen, and it didn't surprise you that she knew how to use them so well in a kiss. Your heads went from side to side, as you tasted each other's lips and filled the hallway with wet sounds. Her hand squeezed your bulge and rubbed the outline of your cock, and you just lowered your hand from her waist to her left ass cheek and left it there.

"Hey, hurry up," Chaewon said from behind you. She had you by the waist, giving you little kisses on the back of your neck. "I want to cool off in the pool."

Yunjin pulled away from your lips and looked at Chaewon over your shoulder.

"You and I both know that's not what you want," she said with a giggle, and looked at you. "You're in then?"

"You guys dragged me in," you corrected her. "And I already have my hand on your ass. Now I have no choice."

"Then let's go!" Chaewon said, and she moved out from between you and the door to walk towards the elevator.

Yunjin gave you a couple more small kisses and took your hand to lead you to follow Chaewon. Once inside the elevator, she cornered you against the back wall and kissed you again with her hands on your neck. You returned the kiss, taking her by the waist. A few seconds later Chaewon stood to your left, and you moved away from Yunjin's lips to grab the blonde by the face and crash your lips against hers.

The floor where the pool wasn’t too high, so the kiss didn't last long. Once the elevator doors opened, the three of you walked out to a small hall before the pool area on the left. Behind the counter was only a girl who worked at the hotel. She looked up from her phone and watched you walk towards her.

"Oh, sorry, the pool is closed guys," the girl said.

"Yeah honey, we know," Yunjin said ahead, going to lean against the counter with her purse on the top. From there she pulled out five $100 bills and slid them towards the girl. "Why don't you go take a break for an hour and let us keep watch? Oh, and leave us three towels please."

The girl stared at the bills for a few long seconds until she reluctantly took them.

"You better not make a mess and not make any noise," she warned, pulling the towels out from behind the counter for you. "Because you'll get me in trouble."

"You don't have to worry, sweetheart," Yunjin said as the girl got up from her chair and walked around the counter. "We'll be ghosts."

"Just hurry up," the girl reiterated, going to take the elevator.

As the girl waited for the elevator, Yunjin led you and Chaewon by the hand towards the beautiful pool area. The first thing that stood out to you was the huge wall of windows right in front of your eyes, and the series of cube-shaped pendant lights that hung from the high ceiling and ran from one end of the pool to the other. But the overall atmosphere was modern and intimate, with the white lights of both the pool and the lower ceiling area where you were at a dim level, making a gorgeous combination with the gray matte porcelain floor and the marble walls and pillars.

Yunjin went to leave the towels on the chairs to the right, in a small raised area with white light below that had a few lounge chairs; she left the towels piled on one of them and went with Chaewon to the pool, which was L-shaped with the bottom cut out. They approached the stairs, took off their heels and dipped their feet in the water to stand on the first step.

"Oh god, the water is freezing," Chaewon said with a giggle, while Yunjin pulled her hair up into a high bun.

"It's perfect for washing down the alcohol, whatever," Yunjin said, then turned to look at you. "Ready for a little show?"

"At this point I won't be surprised by anything you two do," you replied from the raised area, arms crossed.

False. You wish you hadn't said that so you wouldn't look like a fool, as Chaewon and Yunjin both pulled their dresses up over their breasts, quite efficiently tucking the skirts at the neckline so that it held up like a top. This revealed both pairs of delicious bodies to you, as the only thing they were wearing were their respective panties. Chaewon's were white, thong-like ones. And Yunjin's were high-waisted black cheeky ones.

"What happened, manager-nim?" Chaewon asked with a giggle, seeing how you were stunned by their half naked bodies. "I thought nothing would surprise you."

"Yeah, well..." you couldn't find anything to say, and you definitely couldn't stop staring at them.

Yunjin and Chaewon laughed and went together into the pool, which was the perfect height for the three of you. While Chaewon's was shoulder-high, Yunjin's was just below her breasts. You went with them as they swam to the long end of the pool, rolling your sweatpants up to your knees, taking off your slippers, and sitting on the edge with your feet in the water.

"Huh? What are you doing there?" Yunjin asked, swimming to your feet. Chaewon swam backwards behind her, careful not to get her hair too wet. "Aren't you coming with us?" She grabbed your ankles, and you felt it as a warning.

"Uhm, I'm actually freezing," you replied, trying to get out of the situation. "I could catch a cold and die."

"Why worry about the cold when we can keep you warm down here?" Yunjin insisted, stroking your calves up and down. “Or did you forget why you came with us in the first place?”

Yunjin moved one of her hands up your calf to your crotch to meet your newly formed erection because of them. She squeezed it between her fingers and massaged it.

You sighed.

“Are you really going to make me enter those Antarctic waters?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Oh yeah,” she nodded, biting her lip. “Unless you don’t want to get wet with us.”

“Some emotional blackmail you put on, woman,” you shook your head, and reluctantly stood up to take off your hoodie and sweatpants. Now in your boxers, you sat back down on the edge of the pool and slid in.

You gritted your teeth, tensed your body, and closed your eyes to keep from complaining, because the water was so cold that you felt it soak into your bones and freeze them. Yunjin immediately hugged you, both her arms and legs wrapped around your torso. You hugged her back, delighted to be able to feel that delicious body and that soft skin under your fingers.

"I know, I know..." Yunjin murmured, seeing that you were having a hard time with the water temperature. She made sure to be pressed against you, with as much skin as possible against yours. "Let me warm you up, manager-nim," she gave you a soft kiss. "Although I know a way to warm you up even more."

Chaewon swam to your back and hugged you and Yunjin at the same time, her chin resting on your left shoulder.

"And what way would that be?" You asked, already feeling more relieved to be in the middle of that sandwich. Your hands moved down from her waist to her buttocks, giving them a light squeeze and rubbing them up and down.

"Don't play dumb, manager-nim," Chaewon said in your ear, and slipped a hand between your body and Yunjin's to bring it inside your boxers. She grabbed your cock and held it between her fingers. "You know the answer, so you're going to say it."

"Yeah, but we know you well, and we know you won't say it that easily," Yunjin said. "So we're going to make you say it."

You chuckled.

"Are you going to drown me in the pool every time I refuse or what?"

Chaewon's response was to yank your boxers down, releasing your throbbing cock under the water. She wrapped her fingers around it, and slowly began to masturbate you. You gasped, and Yunjin smirked, unwrapping her legs from around your torso to press herself against the side of your body, leaving room for Chaewon to comfortably move her hand.

“Tell me something, manager-nim,” Chaewon murmured, giving you pecks on the side of your neck and then catching your earlobe between her lips. “In these two years, have you ever masturbated thinking about us?”

The question left you as cold as the pool water did when you got in, and your well-known answer made you blush. They were four of the stupidest hottest girls you had ever seen in your life, and they were all recently at their peak of hotness; it had to happen sooner or later for you.

“I...” you took a deep breath, trying not to look Yunjin in the eyes out of embarrassment.

“You have, huh?” Yunjin said, her gaze fixed on you. She held onto your shoulders with one arm while rubbing your abdomen with the other. "You don't have to be ashamed... it's not like we blame you. I've been given outfits that leave little to the imagination."

"How did you imagine us, manager nim?" Chaewon asked in a sexy murmur, still moving her hand on your cock. "Doggy style? From behind against the wall? Us riding you?"

"Or maybe sucking your cock?" Yunjin said, to spread kisses on your cheek near your lips. "Did you imagine my pretty lips around it?"

"I'm sure you also imagined yourself pounding my tight pussy," Chaewon said, moving her hand faster. Yunjin replaced it a couple seconds later.

"Or me jumping on your cock," the redhead said, jerking you off at a fast, steady pace. "Come on, don't be shy, manager-nim. Tell us."

"Please, manager-nim," Chaewon moaned into your ear, massaging your balls before replacing Yunjin's hand with her own. "We want to know."

You would have loved to be able to say something, but Chaewon was moving her hand so well on your cock that you were lost in the limbo of the physical and spiritual realm. You were brought out of your trance by her abruptly stopping her hand from moving.

"Ugh, no!" you whined, clenching your fists. Yunjin and Chaewon giggled.

"Then answer," Yunjin said, circling your tip with her index finger. "Have you masturbated to us or not?"

"Fuck, yes," you huffed. "More times than I'd like to admit."

Yunjin was the one in charge of grabbing your cock again and resuming the handjob, now faster.

"See? It wasn't that hard," Yunjin said with a giggle.

"You're such a pervert, manager-nim," Chaewon said, kissing your neck, while her hands roamed your chest. "Why don't we go outside and let us finish the work? Then maybe we can fulfill some of your little fantasies."

"What if the worker comes?" you said between gasps, since Yunjin was still jerking you off. "I don't want to get kicked out of the hotel with two days left here in New York."

"It's only been 10 minutes," Yunjin said, and let go of your cock. "We've got a good while left to have some fun."

"Then hurry up and get out," you said, trying to get out of the way of the two of them.

Chaewon and Yunjin stepped away from you and swam towards the pool stairs. You followed close behind. As you climbed out of the water you took the lead, heading straight to the small raised area near the exit to grab a towel and dry yourself off as much as you could, having to remove your boxers so as not to wet the lounge chair once you lay down on it. The girls certainly didn't mind, in fact they followed your lead and removed their panties, keeping their dresses bunched up around their chests.

They knelt on their lounge chairs facing you, and bent forward to bring their faces close to your cock, giving you a hot view of their arched backs and wonderfully raised cakes. You weren't shy at all, and as they peppered each side of your shaft with kisses and licks, you groped and squeezed their ass cheeks.

"Fuck, you have a very juicy cock, manager-nim," Chaewon panted, one hand on your thigh and the other around the base of your cock.

"I always knew he was packed," Yunjin said, stroking your cock from the middle up. You looked at her with a frown. "I should have seduced him earlier; now I see I had it pretty easy."

"Are you calling me a slut?" you asked between gasps, making them laugh.

"Considering how quickly you gave in," she shrugged and pondered the answer for a moment. "Yes."

Before you could answer Chaewon took you into her mouth, slowly pumping her head for a few inches and making you gasp. Yunjin joined in by using her tongue on your base and balls. You leaned forward a little, so you could extend your arms further and get your fingers between their ass cheeks and finger their pussies.

Chaewon moaned around your cock, quickly taking as much of your length into her small mouth as she could to pump faster and faster. A few seconds later she pulled out, giving way to Yunjin's perfect lips, which wrapped around your tip and went halfway down before coming back, in a pace that soon became fast and messy.

You rubbed your fingers between their soft and already wet folds as you watched Chaewon give you a sloppy blowjob, in aid of Yunjin's tongue and lips on the rest of your shaft. You didn't want to cum too fast to prolong that experience as much as possible, so you looked up and left your gaze on the cube-shaped lamps while you gasped.

But as hard as you were trying, Chaewon and Yunjin forced you to watch as they both slurped the saliva they themselves left on your cock, over and over again in a toe curling double blowjob that had you moaning like the slut Yunjin said you were. A few long seconds passed, until you couldn't control it, and you came as they were making out with your tip in the middle.

"Oh god!" You moaned, watching as Yunjin and Chaewon were still kissing each other even as your cum poured out in thick rivers and stained their tongues and mouths. They lapped up every drop, glad to swallow as much of your load as they could before using their mouths to get your cock clean and shiny again.

You didn't wait for either of them to say anything before you got up from your chair and went to kneel on the floor behind Chaewon, grabbing her firm ass cheeks and planting your face between them.

"Oh fuck!" she moaned in a small start, feeling your tongue move up and down her folds. "You were hungry for it weren't you?"

"You have no idea how much," you replied, squeezing her ass cheeks and eating her pussy like deep down you always wanted to do.

Within a few seconds Chaewon let her moans flow, soon drowned out by a kiss against Yunjin's lips. You devoured that tight pussy with devotion, with the sole goal of making her feel as good as she had made you feel just a couple of minutes ago. She let you know you were doing a good job by twisting her hips and pushing them back, urging you to keep going until you made her cum.

Her climax came not long after, thanks to the quick licks you gave to her clit and the intense way you groped her ass. She fell back with her hands braced against the chair Yunjin was on, writhing between cute moans and spasms.

“My god!” Chaewon groaned as you licked and kissed between her folds. “Why did you never say I was this good at eating pussy?!”

“I remind you that I’m your manager, Kim Chaewon,” you said, and stood up to spank her. An intrusive thought you let win. “I don’t think it would have been appropriate to tell you two days after your debut.”

“Ugh why now we women are the ones who have to make the first move!” she whined, now lying on her side to look at you with that adorable, usual expression she made when she got angry.

"I wasn't going to risk my career on whether you wanted cock or not. Don't be a bitch," you said, and walked around the front of the chairs to climb onto Yunjin's, who immediately hugged you by the neck and kissed you, pressing your torsos together and making your cock rub against her lower abdomen.

After a few seconds of making out with Yunjin you grabbed her by the thighs and made her sit down, with her back against the slanted back of the chair. You sat on the lower edge with your knees resting on the floor, leaning forward and bringing your mouth directly to Yunjin's pussy.

"Oh fuck yeah," Yunjin moaned, one hand on your head as you ate her out. "I should sneak around more often if this is the result."

"Don't push your fucking luck," you muttered, making her laugh. "If you want me to eat your pussy you just have to ask me nicely."

Yunjin moaned as you reached her clit and sucked gently on it.

"Mmmgh, really?" she asked, arching her back a little.

You smiled.

"Yeah, just fax me and get in line."

"Son of a bitch!" Yunjin squealed in annoyance and pulled at your hair, but her anger didn't last long as it didn't stop you from trying to give her the best pussy eating of her life.

Yunjin relaxed in the chair, leaning back and with her legs wide open to let you work. As the seconds passed she became more restless: she arched her back, tugged at your hair and breathed more heavily, until she ended up enclosing your head between her thighs. The grip was strong, with her calves crossed on your back, and you felt your head about to explode, but that was just like coal to your boiler.

"Fuck! Mmmgh!" Yunjin moaned, fingers clenching in your hair as you attacked her pussy mercilessly. “Right there manager-nim, yes, yes!”

Seconds later Yunjin exploded in your mouth, lifting her pelvis and holding onto your head with both hands. She bucked in her chair, moaning maybe a little too loudly, so you reached up and covered her mouth with your hand as her orgasm passed. When it did, she released your head and you pulled away from her pussy.

“Let’s go to my room right now,” you said, standing up to go get your clothes.

“What, why?” Chaewon asked. “We still have like half an hour.”

“If I fuck you guys the way I want to I’ll lose track of time,” you replied, picking up your sweatpants to put them on without your boxers as they were still wet. “And I don’t want the worker to come and find us in the middle of intercourse.”

"Yeah, that's fair," Chaewon said, and stood up to grab a towel and wrap it around her waist.

Once you were dressed you went to help Yunjin stand up and do the same as Chaewon did. You then grabbed all the wet underwear, wrung it out in a corner and carried it in your hand as the three of you left the pool area heading for the elevator. Upon reaching your floor you rushed to your room, and once inside, the two of them removed both their towels and what was left of their dresses from their bodies to jump into bed.

You stripped down at lightning speed and climbed into bed with them. Chaewon greeted you with her legs spread as you climbed on top of her to kiss her, wrapping her arms and legs around you. Yunjin settled on the left side next to Chaewon, and reached between your bodies to reach for your cock and stroke it; she had it hard in a moment, and without either of you asking, she took it inside Chaewon's pussy.

Chaewon squealed, and bit your lip unintentionally in shock. She dug her nails into your scalp, slightly tense as your cock forced its way between the tight walls of her pussy. You continued to kiss her, stifling moans of satisfaction until you finished with your entire length inside her.

"Mmmgh, manager-nim?" Chaewon moaned against your lips.

"Yes?" you gasped.

"Next time be a little bolder and ask me," she panted, stroking the hair on the back of your neck. "I can't believe I'm finding this out two years later."

"Or I could just sneak into your room and fuck you like the whore you are every chance I get," you replied in a sarcastic tone, beginning to move slowly.

"Oh, would you do that?" Chaewon asked with a giggle.

"Jeez, you're hopeless," you shook your head, moving from her lips to her neck to kiss it.

"You can always pretend you have an emergency and woosh! Catch him," Yunjin said from your left, kissing the other side of Chaewon's neck.

"Great Jennifer, give her ideas," you said between gasps, enjoying the way that tight pussy suffocated your cock every time it went inside. "As if I don't have enough with all the shit you two do on a daily basis already."

"You're overreacting, manager-nim," Chaewon moaned, tightening her grip on your torso, hands now on your neck. "We're not that unruly. But you made a big mistake, because now we're really gonna be bad bitches for this cock."

Mother of god, where the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

You forced Chaewon to release your torso and straightened your back to put her legs open, one over Yunjin, and with your hands on her thighs you began to go harder and harder. Chaewon sought out Yunjin's lips, and the two of them shared a steamy, sexy kiss as you fucked her pussy and made her moan against the redhead's lips.

Yunjin played with Chaewon's perky tits, pinching her nipples and massaging her mounds in the process, then moving her hand down her abdomen and to her pussy to rub her clit in quick circles. Chaewon pulled away from Yunjin's lips and arched her back, holding Yunjin's head with one arm and clutching a pillow over her head with the other.

"Does that feel good, Chaewonie?" Yunjin asked, bringing her mouth closer to one of Chaewon's tits to suck on it, circling her clit faster. You thrust harder, pounding that pussy between moans and with your fingers digging into her thighs.

"It's the best cock I've ever had in my fucking life!" Chaewon moaned, her mouth parted and her eyes fixed on you. "Please don't stop!"

Yunjin focused on licking Chaewon's nipple and moving her fingers faster, while you leaned forward a little just so you could thrust faster. Chaewon started moaning so loud that the very pillow she was clinging to became her muzzle, which she bit down on before covering her face with. An instant later she uncovered her face and exploded with a squeal, squeezing your cock as her orgasm made her shudder.

"Mmmm that's so fucking hot," Yunjin groaned, and got on her hands and knees beside Chaewon to reach over to her crotch, pulling your cock out of her pussy and bringing it into her mouth to suck on it for a few seconds. "You want me to ride you?" she asked.

"Who wouldn't want to be ridden by you?" you asked, and she smiled slowly stroking your cock.

"Wow, you're getting more and more points every time," she giggled. "This was quite a triple."

Yunjin made room for you to lay down in her spot with your head on the pillow. Already settled she straddled you, her pussy pressed against the back of your cock. She made eye contact with you as she untied her hair, and as she let it go she placed her hands on your chest and slowly ground her hips back and forth to rub your intimacies together.

"Are you gonna keep teasing me, Jennifer?" you asked with your hands on her thighs, looking into her eyes.

"Why? Are you desperate to be inside me, manager-nim?" she asked back and bent over you, running her hands up to cup your face. You brought your hands to her waist and then to her ass to squeeze it. "I think you want it even more than I do."

"You better shut the fuck up," you said, and reached for your cock to press it between Yunjin's folds. She giggled, and cooperated by slowly lowering her hips until she was fully impaled on your shaft.

"Oh god this feels better than I expected," Yunjin moaned with her ass resting on your pelvis and her hands on your shoulders. "I hope you know you just created a monster."

"I remind you again that I'm your manager, woman," you panted as she began to move up and down. "You're playing with fire and you might burn me by accident."

"Don't be like that, baby," she panted, giving you small kisses as she moved gradually harder. You had her red hair all over your face, but that and you groping her ass only made it hotter. "No one has to find out, right? It'll be our little secret."

“As you wish,” you replied, squeezing her ass cheeks before dropping your hands to the sides of her lower back. “But if it starts to affect your career or mine I will turn you off immediately.”

“Deal,” Yunjin said with a smirk, and crashed her lips against yours before going wild.

Yunjin grabbed your face and stuck her tongue inside your mouth, seeking to take control of the kiss. You happily gave in, content to let her do whatever she wanted with you as long as she kept moving on your cock, with those hip movements that were slow, deep, and deadly. After a few seconds she moved to your neck, to fill it with sucks, kisses, and finally biting you. She cried out when you spanked her with both hands, which prompted her to move faster and with less control.

"Hey, don't even think about leaving me out," you heard Chaewon say on the left, and she somewhat roughly pushed Yunjin off your chest to climb on top of you and sit on your face with her calves on your arms.

With your view now blocked by Chaewon's ass you had no choice but to adapt to the situation and put your mouth and hands to work. She pushed her hips back, smothering you between her perfect ass cheeks, which you held onto to spread them and allow yourself to breathe while you ate her pussy.

"Can't you stop seeking attention for five minutes?" Yunjin asked Chaewon, planting her feet on the mattress to squat on your cock, fast and hard. "Oh god I was riding him so good!"

"And now you're bouncing on his cock," Chaewon replied between moans, her hands on your chest. You could hear her sharing sloppy kisses with Yunjin. "What's the fucking difference?"

“That I like looking into guys' eyes while I ride them!” Yunjin protested, moaning louder and louder as she bounced faster on your cock.

Chaewon didn’t say anything else as the two of them began to kiss and muffle their moans against each other’s lips until Yunjin came, grinding her hips with your cock buried deep in her pussy and shaking on top of you. Her orgasm having passed, Yunjin climbed off you and collapsed to the side. Chaewon then raised her hips and knelt beside your head.

“Manager-nim,” Chaewon told you as you sat up, staring at you with those puppy subby eyes. “You’re not going to tell HYBE anything about us sneaking out tonight, are you?”

You looked at her with a poker face.

"What kind of dishonest man do you take me for? Of course not," you replied, brushing a lock of sweaty blonde hair from her cheek. "Next time just tell me and I'll go with you."

Chaewon's eyes lit up like two cute lanterns.

"Really?"

"Aha," you nodded. "Only if you're a good girl and get on your hands and knees for me."

Chaewon complied with the order and turned around to bend forward and rest her hands on the mattress, knees apart and ass raised high for you. You positioned yourself behind her, and with one hand on her waist you went back inside the tightest pussy you'd ever been in. She looked at you over her shoulder and hugged the same pillow from a moment ago tightly, biting it the moment you started to thrust.

The view you had was perfect, and enviable to the you of a few months ago, who could only access it through a very lucky wet dream. But now it was for real: you had a hot view of Kim Chaewon, with that appetizing ass that looked small but whose shape was perfect, and that milky attractive back that had you salivating since the Smart stages.

"Go hard, honey," Chaewon moaned, still looking at you. "Please forget your position and fuck me like I'm all yours."

"Oh, if you insist that much," you nodded slowly, and let out a spank so hard that the shape of your hand was instantly marked in red. Chaewon squealed into the pillow. You then started going really hard on her, making the sound of her ass slapping against your pelvis reverberate through your room.

"Fuck! Just like that!" Chaewon squealed, and buried her face into the pillow. You gave her another spank to make her scream. "Fuck!! More!" another spank. "MORE!!"

One more spank, and this time you grabbed a handful of her blonde hair and pulled it back, in turn separating Chaewon's face from the pillow. Now her moans were fully audible as you pounded her pussy like she was a human fleshlight.

Yunjin had already recovered, and without asking Chaewon's permission, she did her best to get under her and stack their pussies together. Before the baby tiger could protest, Yunjin began kissing every corner of her face and neck to make her melt quite efficiently, as Chaewon was still entirely focused on you and your cock.

"God you are such a pillow slut," Yunjin teased Chaewon, grabbing her ass cheeks and spanking her in the same spots as you. "A little more and you'll be calling him daddy."

"Stop giving her ideas, Jennifer!" you growled through clenched teeth at how good Chaewon's pussy felt in that position.

"I'm gonna cum daddy! Mmmgh fuck!!" Chaewon squealed, burying her face in Yunjin's neck.

"Late," Yunjin laughed looking at you. You just shook your head. "It's your fault for falling into our trap."

"Listen here you little piece of..." you said, being interrupted by Chaewon's orgasm and cute whimpers. You placed a hand on her lower back, fucking her slowly until her body stopped shaking. Then you pulled out of her pussy to switch directly to Yunjin's.

"Hey!" Yunjin squealed when you got balls deep inside her again. "Warn me!"

"For what?" you raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure you got down there because you were desperate for me to be inside you again."

Yunjin blushed and rolled her eyes, which was enough to prove you right. You smiled, and grabbed her thighs to press them against Chaewon's. With her, you took off at full speed from the start, already in search of your own climax, which was only getting closer by leaps and bounds.

Yunjin clung to Chaewon with her arms around her neck, moaning in her ear as you hammered her pussy even harder than Chaewon. Sweat was already pouring down your temples, proof that you were giving it your all when you were already exhausted after so many hours of work. It was definitely worth it, because just like Chaewon's, Yunjin's pussy felt so good that it made you use energy reserves you didn't even know you had.

But what kept you going at your best wasn't that, it was the possibility of seeing those two girls go crazy with pleasure thanks to you, and Yunjin's face being fucked mercilessly was like an expensive piece of art in the Louvre museum, especially when a couple of minutes later she came for the second time on your cock.

"Dear fucking lord please cum honey!" Yunjin screamed as you fucked her like an animal through her orgasm. "Oh my god cum!!"

Seconds later, when you felt yourself about to explode, you quickly pulled yourself out of her and went to kneel right next to both of their heads. They both turned their faces towards you, and stuck their tongues out as you stroked your cock rapidly, until with a loud moan you exploded.

The thick strings of cum came out in strong jets and landed on both of their angelic faces, every corner being painted white and getting sticky. What fell on Chaewon's face spilled onto Yunjin's, who collected most of the drops in a pool on her tongue. By the time your climax passed those two were a mess, so covered in cum that Chaewon kept one eye closed and Yunjin had her lips stuffed.

"Oh my god..." you gasped, mesmerized by the sight. "Stay there."

Even though you felt on the verge of collapse, your protective manager instinct kicked in and you were forced to go to the bathroom to get some toilet paper and help them clean themselves up. But as you did so, you realized something that you hadn't realized in all the fuss, something that left you staring into space.

Sakura's room was right next door.

Shit.

#lesserafim smut #yunjin smut #chaewon smut #kpop smut #smut fanfic #smut #x male reader smut #male reader smut #x male smut

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not-neverland06 · 10 months ago

Text

n a s t y d o g I logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader

One-shot A/N: I've never felt this way about a fictional character before. Every gif I see of him has me gnawing and biting at the bars of my enclosure. I want to bite him. If Hugh Jackman ever discovered what thoughts lurk inside my rotted brain about him he'd get a restraining order. This isn't OKAY Anyways... Summary: You'd thought you'd had a good thing going with Logan. You weren't officially anything to each other, but you were getting close. You truly saw a future with him, but he made it incredibly clear he did not feel the same 18+ HATE FUCKING (MDNI)

(one chance please, just one chance with him)

“Are you sure this isn’t totally clingy girlfriend of me?”

Ororo gives you an irritated look and Jean laughs. “Not at all, Scott loves it when I surprise him like this.” You’re all huddled in your room, each of you in varying stages of getting ready. Jean is finishing off her eyeliner at your vanity, Ororo is putting on her boots, and you’re trying to decide between a skirt and a dress.

You’re not entirely sure how, or why, Logan and Scott decided to go to the bar together tonight. You suspect it has something to do with Jean. She wants them to start getting along so there’s less friction when you’re all around each other.

At Jean’s idea, Logan had muttered, “When hell freezes over,” in your ear before he had left for the night. You’d gotten a little antsy without him to entertain you and had mistakenly blurted out the idea of going to visit them. Ororo had been dying to get out of the house and Jean was a little worried about her boyfriend as well. They’d agreed to go along with you and you’ve felt a weight in your stomach ever since.

Your relationship with Logan was relatively new. Hell, a month ago you’d thought he’d hated you the same he did Scott. You’d, of course, been proven wrong when you’d had a few drinks with him and things had taken a very physical turn.

You weren’t sure if he’d just wanted a one-night stand or something serious. But when you’d tried to sneak out the next morning and he’d muttered a grumpy, “Where’re you going?” You’d gotten your answer.

You hadn’t been on any real dates, there didn’t ever seem to be time for them. But you spent most of your days together. Sometimes just silently enjoying each other’s company, other times you would be holed up in one of your rooms cuddling. The thought always brings a stupid lovesick grin to your face.

It’s one of your first real relationships and you’re worried that things are moving a little too fast. At least on your end. You can already tell that you’re falling for him. Headfirst into the deep end of love. And it’s terrifying because you truly cannot tell what he thinks about you. Clearly, he likes you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t let you follow him around like a lost puppy.

But he’s never truly said anything to you. There’s no official label as to what you two are. You say girlfriend off-handly and you usually don’t mean it when you reference yourself. You’ve never outright said he’s your boyfriend and he’s never really claimed you. He’s made it explicitly clear he doesn’t want you sleeping with other men, and you’ve said the same to him about women. You both agreed on that, but…

You kind of drive yourself crazy trying to figure this out. He’s not vocal about his feelings and everything’s still new so you don’t like pressuring him. You also worry that if you push him too far he’ll just get tired of you and move on. It’s not fair to assume that of him, and you know everything would be better if you just talked to him. But you’re scared. You’re scared the conversation will take the wrong direction and everything will blow up in your face.

Jean calls your name and your head shoots up to see both Ororo and Jean looking at you expectantly. You flush when you realize they must have been talking to you and you’d just completely zoned out thinking about Logan.

“Huh?” You blurt out, cringing at how dumb you sound.

Jean gives you a concerned look, “I can practically taste your anxiety.” The telepath frowns and offers you a comforting smile. “Don’t worry about it, I promise, Logan won’t mind at all.”

“You’re fine,” Ororo adds, because clearly the look on your face screams, I need constant validation. They’re not wrong, but still, you hate feeling like an exposed bundle of nerves. “Think of it as girl’s night, the boys just happen to be there.”

You force a smile on your face and give your most enthusiastic nod. You change into the dress and finish up with your hair. You finally start chatting with them again, engaging so it might disguise just how nervous you feel.

There’s this clenching feeling, traveling from your stomach up to your chest. It makes you sick, makes you hurt. And it’s not because you think Logan will be upset with you for crashing. He’d be relieved, if anything. There’s something else. Premonition isn’t one of your abilities, but you’re seriously starting to doubt that now.

The bar is loud when you walk in. The soles of your shoes immediately start to stick to the floor and your nose screws up in disgust at the loud laughter coming from around the pool tables. You glance around, trying to see if you can spot Logan.

You’d say you could spot him in any crowd. But has a propensity to hunker down and try to attract as little attention as possible so people don’t bother him. “There he is,” Jean taps your shoulders and points to the two men at the end of the bar.

Like you’d thought, Logan is hunched over his whiskey, glowering down at the wood under him like it had insulted him. You almost want to laugh at the sight. Some of the earlier anxiety eases its grip on you and you feel your shoulders begin to untense.

Before you can walk over Ororo grabs Jean’s wrist. “Gotta go to the bathroom,” she tugs Jean behind her.

Jean looks over her shoulder at you and smiles encouragingly, “Go to them, we’ll catch up in a second.” You give her a tentative nod and slip through the crowd. There are more people here than you thought there would be.

You’re happy not to spot any kids in the crowd. You’ve had a few too many nights out crashed by kids who thought they were good at sneaking out.

It’s easy enough not to spot you or the other women in the crowd. Mutants have gotten good at blending in with the people around them. Makes it easier to get around. It’s probably why neither Logan nor Scott stop their conversation as you approach. “So,” Scott draws the word out, fingers tapping against the glass of his beer.

“Don’t,” Logan warns. You want to laugh at his grumpy demeanor, but someone’s accidentally elbowed you and you find yourself stumbling a few steps back. It’s taking entirely too long to get to them, the bar isn’t even that big. There’s just that many people here.

Scott ignores him and rolls his eyes. “Look, we’re stuck here for a while. Try and pull that stick out of your ass.”

“How about I put one in yours?” Logan’s claws come out slightly. But then they both share an odd look and Scott smirks. “Shut the fuck up,” Logan grouses, “not like that.”

“Right,” Scott huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. He picks up his bottle and takes a long drink. You’ve nearly reached them now. You stop, though, when you hear Scott say your name. You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. Eavesdropping now is just asking to get hurt.

You drop back into the crowd, hoping the smells of others will stop Logan from discovering you lurking behind them both. Scott continues, “How’s that going?”

You crane your neck forward, trying to hear them better over the karaoke happening behind you. Someone is butchering Britney Spears but you couldn’t care less right now. Logan shouldn’t answer. Since when has he ever shared anything with Scott?

So, imagine your surprise when his answer isn’t immediately telling him to fuck off. “Eh,” he shrugs, downing the rest of his whiskey. Your face drops in irritation. Seriously, all this skulking around for an Eh? That’s bullshit.

You keep yourself from stepping forward, forcing your feet still, and ignoring the little voice in the back of your head telling you this is a bad idea. You’ve committed this much, you’re seeing it through. Scott whistles lowly, “That bad, huh?” Oh, fuck off, Summers.

Logan shakes his head and for a moment you have a brief feeling of hope lifting you up. “Nah, not bad. It’s just, I don’t know.” Logan sits up and signals the bartender for a refill. Your snooping senses go off and you briefly see Ororo and Jean exiting the bathroom. Desperate for something to keep them at bay, you flick your wrist. The man in front of them tips his drink down Jean’s shirt, slurring out apologies. Jean huffs and Ororo brings her back into the bathroom.

Scott and Logan somehow missed the whole interaction and you promise yourself that you’ll pay for Jean’s dry cleaning. You’re definitely not going to. “Think she wants something I don’t,” Logan tells Scott, and your heart plummets to your feet. You can practically see it deflate, all the lovesickness draining out of it and onto the floor of this grimy bar.

“Like, she just wants to fuck around?”

Logan shakes his head and downs another glass of whiskey. He’s just swallowing it down like it’s water. At a certain point, the bartender gets sick of it and just leaves him with the bottle. “No, she wants something real. Like a real relationship.” Scott’s brows furrow and Logan shrugs. “Not interested.”

It’s the way he says it that really bothers you. There’s nothing wrong with wanting something different in a relationship. It happens all the time. But he says it so dismissively. He knows that you want something real with him, something secure and loving. He knows that, continues to fuck you and lead you on, and then speaks as though you’re an idiot for ever being interested in that.

Hurt hasn’t set in yet. You’re staring wide-eyed, jaw agape with shock as you stare at Logan’s back. You’d thought a conversation needed to be had. But you didn’t think that he thought of you like this. You’d thought you meant something to him.

Scott seems to share the sentiment, his lips tugged down into a frown. He leans against the bar, surveying Logan with a disbelieving look. “What?” Logan snaps.

Scott raises his hands in surrender, shaking his head and backing off. “Nothing, man, I just thought you two were serious about each other.” You miss whatever Logan says as an arm slings itself around your shoulder.

“What’re you doing?” A husky, seductive voice whispers against the shell of your ear. You jump in shock, glaring at Ororo as she grins at you. She lets her arm slide off your shoulders and glances over at Jean. “I think she was spying.”

Jean nods, nudging you forward. “Definitely spying. Hear anything good?”

You fortify your mind against her probing fingers before she can find out. “Nope,” you blurt out. You hope the racing of your heart is dismissed by your constantly frazzled nature. You hope the look on your face is explained by your earlier boredom and anxiety. You pray that none of them notice the way you lean away from Logan when the men finally turn around and notice you all.

Scott breathes out a dramatic sigh of relief and slumps onto Jean. “Thank god, I thought I was going to die trying to talk to this brick wall.” his eyes flick towards you in a blink-and-you-miss-it moment. There’s a brief pitying look before he grins. “Come to get your boyfriend?” There’s a heavy emphasis on the word that you never would have noticed had you not heard their conversations.

It’s clearly a petty dig at Logan. And you would appreciate it if you didn’t feel the sudden urge to vomit up your dinner. “Thought you might need saving from Logan.” You tell him, a chuckle hiding the slight tremor in your voice.

You’re not sure if he does, but you hope Logan notices how you avoided the word boyfriend. You hope that he hurts the same way you do. But you know, deep down, that he doesn’t care. He’s probably relieved that you didn’t use the title.

Logan gets off his stool, he wraps his arm around your shoulder, and pulls you into a brief hug. His lips press against your temple before he dips down to whisper, “Thank you,” in your ear.

Asshole, he’s not allowed to smile at you the way he is. If you weren’t in such a crowded place and already overstimulated, you’d shove him away. If your friends weren’t watching you’d take his arm and slam it down onto the bar until you hear his fucking adamantium bones break.

That might have been too far. Maybe you’re not that angry, but you’re hurt.

You place your hands against his chest, a thin smile on your lips while you hum a simple, “Mhm.” He doesn’t seem to notice the way you push away from him. It’s easily dismissed by you cheekily stealing his seat at the bar.

He comes up behind you, hands bracketing you and keeping you stuck against the bar while you order your drink. One of his hands drifts down, laying against your thigh. You know this isn’t sexual, this is him comforting you.

He shouldn’t know how horrible you feel in such busy places. He shouldn’t know that and know that his touch is grounding and then help you. Not if he doesn’t want something serious. If he didn’t want to be your boyfriend, didn’t want to be anything but a fuck, then why do this to you? Did he not think this was leading you on? Is this just him caring for you?

You’ll drown in a sea of unanswered questions before the night is over if you linger too long. You tip your head back, let your shot burn its way down your throat, and turn towards the others with a smile. You feel your worries fade and your focus loosen as you simply drift further into your mind.

You must have disassociated or something. By the time you realize you’re no longer hearing bad karaoke and your elbows aren’t sticking to the bar, you’re already home. You stare in the mirror, hand pausing as you brush your teeth before you quickly finish.

You didn’t drink much, you never do. It fucks with your abilities and causes migraines. You rinse your mouth out and glance into your bedroom. Logan groans and stretches. His back bows, muscles flexing and you rip your eyes away. You can’t let yourself be distracted by the chest you want to drape yourself across.

You need to talk to him. It’s never been more clear. You wipe your mouth and toss the towel onto the rim of the sink. You take in a deep breath, trying to get rid of the nerves plaguing you. It’s never worked before, it’s not going to suddenly cure you now.

You give up on the thought and instead, shove down the anxiety until you have enough confidence to speak. It takes a little while, Logan peaks an eye open, eyebrows quirked when he sees you just staring at him. “Something up, bub?” he flexes, on purpose, and you roll your eyes. You grab his shirt out of your hamper and toss it at him.

“Put this on. Can’t think when you look like that.”

He chuckles, “That’s the point.” at your pointed glare his smile drops and he tugs the beater on. It barely does anything to deter you. If anything you’re having more trouble paying attention. Especially now that his full attention is on you. The humor is gone from the room, a thick tension replaces it. Logan seems to feel it, sitting up straighter and glaring at you like he’s trying to read your mind. “What’s wrong?” It’s a demand more than a question.

It’s hard to look at him. But you refuse to let yourself cower now. You take in a fortifying breath and let your gaze bore into his. You put all the hurt and anger you feel into it, willing yourself to be firm. “We need to talk.”

“‘Bout what?” He’s brusque, but there’s a slight concern to his tone.

There’s no point hiding this. And maybe you had misheard, maybe there was a conversation prefacing the one you’d heard. And you’ll talk it out and everything will be okay. “I heard you and Scott talking at the bar.”

The hope you had, as minimal as it was, is dashed at your feet. He sucks in a deep breath and the look on his face has you crestfallen. You can feel your chest cave in. You feel so stupid all of a sudden. Constantly following after him, even before you started dating him. Looking at him with stars in your eyes and latching onto his every move and word.

You’d worshiped him, put him up on a pedestal he didn’t deserve. Superhuman or not, at the end of the day he was still a man. And they’ve done nothing but disappoint you. You suck your teeth, gaze dropping to your feet as you fight back the tears in your eyes. “Right,” you whisper, stepping back from him.

“Look,” he starts. You force your eyes up and watch as he rubs uncomfortably at the back of his neck. He takes a step towards you and you shake your head, stepping away from him. His arms fall to his sides and he sighs. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“That’s it?” You demand, tone incredulous. You weren’t some great love or anything. But that’s seriously all he has to say.

He opens his mouth, eyes softening as he stares at you. Then he snaps it shut, something covers his face and his expression is borderline cruel as he sneers at you. “Not my fault you got in over your head, kid. Never said I wanted anything more with you.” He points at you, and you suddenly feel like a little girl getting scolded. You’ve never had a partner make you feel this small, especially not Logan. “You were just convenient.”

You rear back like he slapped you. You think it might have hurt less than that. To know you wasted so much time on such a fucking dick makes you want to throw up. Or scream, or cry. You can’t decide on one. But your powers can, the walls are shaking, knick-knacks falling off your shelves as energy pulses from you.

You’ll face the hurt, the sadness, the horrible ache of rejection later. Right now, you need him out of your face before you bring the whole mansion crumbling down around you. “Out.” You grind the word out, turning away from him and clutching your hands to your chest. You take in quick, rapid breaths, trying to think of anything other than how horrible you feel.

You haven’t lost control like this in a long time. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of being the reason you get put on probation again. He whispers your name, coming up behind you like he’s going to touch you.

You want to lash out, want to hurt him like he’s hurt you. But you’ll only cause more damage than necessary. He’s not worth hurting the kids in the rooms around you. You shove past him, ignoring the way he shouts your name.

You dart out into the hall, grateful there are so few people milling around. Nearly everyone’s asleep, just a few stragglers finishing up their homework for tomorrow. A few of them give you odd looks that turn concerned when they see Logan chasing after you. Your bones are practically vibrating by the time you make it outside.

You rush towards the grove of trees at the back of the mansion. Your knees give out under you before you can make it very far. Energy pulses out of you in an explosive circle. You hear bark crack and turn into nothing but dust as the air around you trembles.

It’s a relief, like going to the bathroom after holding it all day. You feel it drain away from you, a plug pulled out as the energy rushes from you. It slows after a minute, feeling more like a leak than a steady stream.

Your hands shake by your sides as you lay trembling on the grass. Your eyelids flutter shut and you try and keep them open but it’s hard. All of your energy had been spent keeping yourself in check until you made it out of the mansion.

“I’ve got you,” a voice mutters near your ear. Familiar strong arms dip under your knees, lifting you up and pulling you into a sturdy chest. You recognize the body, recognize the uncomfortable warmth coming from him. But your tongue won’t work and you're passing out before you can try and push him away.

You’re in your own bed when you wake up again. You’re briefly comforted by the warm feeling of the sheets around you before you realize how cold the other side of the bed is. You’re so used to the feeling of someone being beside you that it’s jarring for no one to be there. You sit up, a spark of anxiety lighting up inside you before it’s being quelled by an outside force.

“I think it’s best if we keep that under control.” You’re not surprised to hear Charles’s voice. You can’t be, not when he’s actively keeping you calm and placid. You lean back against your headboard. You tilt your head lazily, looking at him while he looks out the window.

“That tree was a hundred years old.”

You wince, face screwing up when you remember the large oak tree you obliterated last night. “I can remake it,” you promise.

“You could,” he corrects, “but whatever happened last night between you and Logan is causing your powers to be volatile.” He finally turns towards you, the motor of his wheelchair a dull buzz as he smiles at you. There’s no resentment in his gaze at least. You’d known he wouldn’t be mad at you. He was used to accidents like this. Had you hurt another person, however, this would be an entirely different conversation.

There’s a dull ache in your chest at the mention of Logan, but it’s quickly covered by another wave of calm from Charles. He smiles and holds out two metal bracelets. They’re thick, something red inlaid into the black metal. They look like handcuffs more than anything. His lips quirk up at your thought and you frown.

“That’s what they are, right? Cuffs.”

“You’re not a criminal,” he assuages, his tone gentle as you take them from him. There’s a small silver button inside that you click and the metal springs open. You place your left wrist inside and it snaps shut, it’s a snug fit. It won’t be moving around anytime soon. You put the right one on and feel Charles’ hold on your mind ease the second it's closed. Every horrible feeling from last night crashes down on you and you nearly choke on it.

You wonder how Charles managed to keep you asleep for so long without the roof crumbling. He chuckles, the noise tired. “Jean helped me. It took a while for the cuffs to be ready.”

The way he says that causes alarms to go off in your head. “How long?” He takes in a sharp breath and shakes his head, attempting to dismiss the question. “Charles,” you snap, voice bordering on a shout.

“Two days,” he says. You gasp and slump back against your sheets. He says your name but you get to your feet and pace. You don't know what to do with yourself. There’s energy buzzing under your skin, but the cuffs are keeping it at bay. It feels wrong like your pores are being clogged with acid.

“Two days.” You look over at him, horror painting your face and you can see why he was so apprehensive to tell you. “It’s never been that bad before.”

“No,” he starts cautiously, “It hasn’t. Which makes me wonder, what transpired between you and Logan that destroyed my grandfather’s tree?”

You cringe at the mention of the tree. He’s never going to let go of that. Even when you recreate it, he’s still going to hold it over your head. His teasing eases you out of the spiral you were heading down and you glance over at him. “You’ve been in my head for two days. I’m sure both you and Jean already know.”

He smacks his lips together and shrugs, clasping his hands in front of himself. “Simply seeing if you wanted to discuss it, my dear.”

You vehemently shake your head and sit back down on your bed. “No, I don’t want to talk about him. I don't want to see him.” Charles gives you a look like he doesn’t believe you and you hate it. You truly don’t want to see Logan again. Just thinking about him makes you want to explode. He was a pig and you regret ever wasting your time on him.

There’s a shriveled part of your heart weeping somewhere, but you crush in your fist until it shuts the fuck up. “Right,” Charles nods. “I do believe it’s best for your recovery that we keep you two separated for a while.” He rolls past you and places a comforting hand on yours. “Rest, you’ll feel more like yourself soon.”

You nod and watch him leave. Exhaustion suddenly seems to drop its heavy weight on your shoulders. Two days being restrained by telepaths probably wasn’t very restful. You lay across your comforter, rolling over and hoping when you wake up your heart will be healed.

Two weeks. Two pathetic, snot-filled, and disgusting weeks of sobbing over Logan. You felt like a sixteen-year-old again, crying over the boy that didn’t like you back. It was awful, especially knowing that the entirety of the mansion knew what was wrong with you.

Your students would leave your class and you would lock your doors, hiding under your desk as you wept. Those with superhearing or telepathy would bake you cookies and leave gifts at your door. It was sweet, but honestly made you feel ten times worse. You felt like your sadness was a burden you were forcing everyone to carry.

Your mother would be so disappointed in you. She’d always told you that you mourn a relationship half the amount of time you were in it. Of course, hers never lasted more than a few weeks. And she’d had more boyfriends than you could count on three hands.

Besides, you were allowed to wallow for a while. This was someone you were starting to fall for. To be so blind going into and leaving the relationship was awful. Having the rug ripped out from under you had been cruel and needless. You’re resentful and grateful he’d been so horrifically honest with you. On one hand, if the relationship had just ended, you’d be pining after him. Wondering what you’d done to lose such an amazing guy.

But being faced with the brutal truth, knowing he was a piece of shit, it makes you hate yourself. You should have seen it. Should have known that he didn’t want you like you wanted him. But there were never any signs. You’d run it through your head a million times. Every interaction you’ve ever had with him. None of it shows you where he’d been lying to you or using you. You can’t even trust yourself anymore.

There’s a loud knock on your door and you sniffle, tossing another tissue in the trash as you go to answer it. “Hello?” You croak. You can barely see, eyes puffy and so swollen your vision is blurry.

“Holy hell,” Ororo scoffs and shakes her head. She pushes into your room and slams the door shut before anyone can see how awful you look. To be fair, you keep yourself relatively put together during the day. But it’s after hours now, you’re allowed to be a mess.

“You look like shit.”

Neither of you are prepared as you begin to blubber. Your lips tremble and your voice shakes as you begin to sob. “I know,” you wail. “I hate it.” Ororo’s eyes widen in horror and she quickly pushes you into your desk chair, grabbing a box of tissues and shoving it in your hands.

“I feel,” you stutter, having to take in a few shuddering breaths before you can get the words out. “He tore out my heart and ripped it up with his stupid fucking claws.”

“Okay, okay,” Ororo runs her hands over your arms, trying to soothe you. “I know, sh, it’s okay.” She groans, “Stop crying,” she pleads under her breath.

“I’m trying!” You snap at her, running hands over your wet cheeks and trying to swallow down the rest of your tears.

“Look,” she steps back and shakes her head. She glances down at you, disgust poorly hidden on her face. She’s really fucking bad at comforting someone. “This is awful, I can’t take it anymore. You two keep dancing around each other and you’re putting everyone on edge. You won’t stop crying and he keeps going off,” she holds her hands up and shakes her head. “I just can’t do it anymore.”

You frown, brows turning down in confusion. “What?” You didn’t think Logan would be mad. You pictured him skipping through a field of daisies, happy to finally be rid of you. It only made you hate yourself more that you were still crying over it all.

“He’s kind of losing it,” she seems reluctant to relent the information. “Look,” she kneels in front of you and snatches the tissue box from your hand. She tosses it to the side and forces you to meet her eyes. “He’s in love with you. We all know it, Jean’s confirmed it. He loves you, he needs you, he’s just terrified to admit it. He’s afraid of what's going to happen if you two become real.”

Your eyes widen with the realization. She nods enthusiastically as you connect the pieces. You can’t deny what’s so plainly laid in front of you when she assures you that even Jean knows. Jean knowing means she just did a nosy dive into his head.

You can picture what could happen. With rom-com levels of nauseating romance, you run to find him. You tell him you don’t care that he’s afraid. You don’t care he pushed you away and you do love him. He’s not going to lose you. Nothing can rip you apart. You ride off into the sunset on Scott’s bike blah blah blah.

This isn’t a fucking romance. And you’re not going to cry over a man who's too much of a pussy to admit he has feelings. You like men who have emotional depth deeper than a teaspoon. “Are you fucking kidding me?"

Ororo’s face blanches and she slowly backs away from you as you stand. “No,” she answers slowly, like she’s not sure of herself now.

“That’s what I’ve been crying over?” You feel upset for an entirely different reason. You never misread the signs. You never missed a hint that he didn’t feel what you did. He did! He was just happier letting you doubt yourself and the love you held for him than admitting he felt something. You tear off the depression hoodie you’ve been living in for the past two weeks. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

You don’t know where you’re going. Normally, you’d run into a forest to let out a blast of energy. It drained you enough that you wouldn’t have to feel anything. But with these cuffs on, you can’t do anything.

You storm out of your room and stomp down the stairs, uncaring who you wake up. You’ve wasted so much time on Logan, you refuse to stay in your room and cry for another fucking night.

“I want to see her,” Logan growls. He tries to move around Charles, but he stops him with his mind, holding him in place while Jean disappears inside your room. Logan watches her go and glares at her retreating back as the door closes behind her.

It’s been a day already, you’ve never needed to be out for more than a few hours. He doesn’t want to think that there’s anything wrong with you, that he might have permanently broken something inside you.

That talk at the bar with Scott had been stupid. He would have said anything to get him to shut the fuck up and leave him alone. He didn’t really mean what he said, he just wanted him to back off. And saying that your relationship wasn’t anything was quicker than pouring out every thought he’s had of you.

It was easier lying than it was to admit just how much he wanted you. Just how far he would go for you. But then you’d overheard, and you brought it up. And there’d been faith on your face. Like even you couldn’t believe what he had said because you could see through the bullshit.

But all Logan had seen was a way out. This was an opportunity to finally get out of the suffocating clutches of something he didn’t want to admit was love. He took the chance before he could think. It’s what he was used to. Taking the easy way out, especially when it came to shit like emotions.

He hadn’t thought you were going to explode, though. Because that’s exactly what you’d done. By the time he’d caught up to you, you’d burned a crater into the ground and had destroyed Charles’ stupid fucking tree.

Seeing you like that, laying there lifeless, it terrified him. He didn’t want to live in a world that you weren’t in. There was no fucking point. It was sobering, realizing that, and then realizing that he was the reason you were like that in the first place.

He didn’t want to live without you and he certainly would never be able to come to terms with being the reason you were dead. But it didn’t matter, whatever realizations he was coming to. Charles and Jean were completely blocking him from your room. They weren’t even giving him a chance to look at you. And he was about five seconds away from ripping the old bastard’s head off and just barrelling inside.

He didn’t care what they said, he needed to see that you were okay. “I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to see her for a very long time.”

“Stay out of my head,” Logan growls, glaring down at the man. “What are you talking about?” He presses, finally processing the rest of his sentence.

Charles sighs and rolls away from him. Logan glares at his back but ultimately follows. “You were the cause of this, yes?” Reluctantly, Logan nods, there’s no point in hiding it. He’s sure Charles already knows. “For her own safety, the two of you will need to remain separated.”

That had been it. There was no arguing about it. No fighting Charles. It was for your safety that he stayed away from you. No matter how much he wanted to explain himself, he wouldn’t risk another meltdown like that.

You didn’t deserve to get hurt because of someone like him. He wouldn’t be able to stand hurting you again.

But two weeks seemed like a lot. At a certain point, he’s sure you’re just avoiding him. He knows he can’t blame you. He’d been a fucking idiot. But that didn’t make him any happier. If anything, he was getting more and more pissed off every day.

He had less patience for mistakes. Was lashing out at the kids more often and don’t even get started on the petty fucking fights he was picking with Scott. How long did you fucking need before you talked to him again?

He knows you’re upset, your crying keeps everyone up at night. Something he’s sure you’d be mortified to learn about. Why won’t you let him comfort you? Why do you have to be so petulant, running around the corner every time you see him? Pointedly ignoring him when you’re in the same room together.

He could fix this, make this all better. But you’re just not letting him. He knows this is why he loves you. It’s why he was so drawn to you. You seem like a bundle of nerves, constantly flitting around and keeping yourself small. It had been off-putting at first. And then he’d seen you training with Scott, kicking his ass more like. A switch had been flicked in his head.

He could finally see you for what you were. He finally realized that it was your abilities you were keeping small. You were a fucking spitfire and you didn’t hesitate to tell him off, he loved it. Loved arguing with you just so he could see you get all pissed off.

But that stubborn attitude he loved was really biting him in the ass right now.

There’s a knock on his bedroom door and he doesn’t even get to pretend it’s going to be you. He smells Jean’s perfume and rolls his eyes. He puffs on his cigar and contemplates ignoring her.

“Don’t be a jackass, open the damn door.”

Fuckin’ telepaths. “What?” He snaps at her the second the door is open. Her face screws up when she smells the smoke from his cigar. He knows she wants to put it out, and can see it in the twitch of her fingers. He raises a brow, a silent challenge to try him. He’s itching for another fight and she can feel it.

She lets out a sharp breath, choosing her battles wisely and backing off. He’s almost disappointed. “We need to talk. This whole thing between the two of you is ridiculous. You’re a mess, she’s a mess…”

Her voice trails off into nothing more than the annoying pitch of a fly. Logan can’t be bothered to listen to her scold him. He’s not a fucking kid, and maybe if you were acting like an adult, they wouldn’t be having this problem.

A few doors down he can hear you shouting, then the door to your room slams open. He darts off his bed, opening his own door to see what you’re doing. He only sees the back of your head as you angrily stomp down the stairs.

Enough is fucking enough, he was finishing this now. He was sick of your side of the bed being empty and the stupid fucking glare on your face every time you saw him. He doesn’t even bother saying anything to Jean as he leaves, just chases after you.

Jean watches him go with a perturbed look. She steps out of the room and glances down the hall. Ororo steps out of your room and walks towards her. “Well?” Jean probes.

Ororor shrugs, “She’s over it.” Jean smiles but it’s quickly wiped off her face by Ororo’s expression. “Not in the way we wanted.

Jean clenches her eyes shut and takes in a deep breath. She needs you two to figure your shit out or she’s never going to be able to get a good night’s sleep again.

You find yourself in the gym. It’s not your favorite place in the world, you don’t usually get to train with the others. You’re stuck with telepaths, mainly the ones who can shut your powers down if you get too out of control. That hasn’t been a problem since you got the cuffs, but you’ve been too sad to test them out.

Now you find yourself obliterating a punching bag. You wrap the energy around your fists and let it protect the thin skin as you pummel into the bag. You don’t know what else to do. You can’t have energy meltdowns anymore. You have to try and funnel it all out physically, but it’s not working. Nothing is.

“Imagining it’s me?” You pause midswing. You glance over to the door just in time to see Logan stalking towards you. He unzips his jacket slowly. So slowly it almost seems provocative. He tugs it off and tosses it onto a nearby bench.

You scoff as you watch him. “Do you ever have a shirt on?”

He shrugs and moves towards the ring in the middle of the gym. His movements are lithe and fluid as he hops onto the ring, every bit a wild animal. You watch as the muscles in his torso ripple and force your eyes off of him. You try and focus your attention back on the bag, but all your earlier energy is gone. Your mind is completely wrapped around Logan.

Which you’re sure is exactly what he wants, or he wouldn’t be staring at you so smugly as he leans against the ropes and waits for you to acknowledge him. You suck on your teeth, irritation blooming in sporadic bursts throughout your body that has you nearly shaking. Finally, you give in.

He smirks the second your eyes meet, “I can take it, sweetheart. A lot better than that little toy of yours can.” He nods towards the punching bag but the insinuation isn’t lost on you. You and Logan had been very active in your relationship. You could barely go a day without tasting each other.

You’ve been pent up since the breakup. You’d given in a few days ago, pulled out your old vibrator, and tried to bring even a semblance of joy back into your life. But nothing could compare to Logan.

His tongue darts out, wetting his lips as he waits for you to react. He’s standing there, staring down at you with all the surety in the world that you’re going to fuck him. It makes you want to dig your nails in and rip him apart, bit by bit.

You can already picture it in your mind, using your abilities to pick him apart until he’s nothing but molecules dispersed through the air. He’s lucky you have the cuffs on, without them you’re sure he’d already be dead.

You smirk and move towards the edge of the ring, your voice drops as you purr up at him, “You wanna play, Logan?”

He grins and moves off the ropes, starting towards you as you make your way onto the ring. You’re slightly less graceful than he was, but you’re too focused on wiping the smug look off his face to pay attention. “Come on kid,” he taunts, voice as low as it usually is when he’s fucking into you. “Let’s see what you got.”

You’re not stupid enough to just outright swing at him. You feint to the right and bring your knee up into his ribs. He only needs one hand to wrap around your thigh and drag you forward. His other hand goes to your hip, tugging you closer until you’re practically grinding against each other. You grit your teeth and glare up at him.

“Come on, sweetheart, that can’t be all you got for me.” Energy wraps around your head, blurring the air around you. You slam your temple against his, it provides enough of a distraction for you to yank your leg out of his grip. You throw your right fist into his ear, bouncing back with a grin as he shakes his head.

He practically growls as he reorients himself. You shrug and smirk, “What, don’t tell me that’s all you got, wolvie.”

“Don’t fuckin’ call me that,” he grumbles. You open your mouth, prepared to taunt him again. But he’s lunging towards you and you just barely have enough time to dart out of his way. You know he’s going easy on you. He could have had you just then if he really wanted this.

But he’s dragging this out. Forcing you to spend as much time with him as you can. It only pisses you off further. You plant your foot on his back and kick him forward. He barely even stumbles and it only further confirms your suspicions. “Stop fucking holding back,” you yell at him.

He turns around slowly. You almost expect there to be a sneer on his face, something angry. Instead, he looks fucking thrilled, like this is all just foreplay for him. He laughs, so low you can barely hear it, and his chest flexes as his claws come out.

“You sure?” It’s a taunt, a dare, he knows you aren’t going to take the bait. You’d be stupid to, you don’t heal like he does. Once those things get in you, you’re screwed. But right now, you’re too pissed off to try and care.

You don’t say anything, you just duck under his fist as he swings at you. You know he made it easy for you, giving you an opening to fall into. He’s treating you like you’re something fragile. And maybe you are. One wrong move in this fight and you might not make it through the night. But anger is making you blind to logic.

Him playing fair just makes you want to play dirty. You use the opening he gives you, letting energy form around your fist and pulling back just enough to slam into his ribs. He coughs, doubling over as you hear bones crack under your hit. He’ll heal in seconds, you can’t bring yourself to feel too bad for him.

Maybe if he ever took you seriously you might not be such a bitch. But he didn’t think you were good enough to be honest with and he still was treating you like a plaything. In your opinion, he deserves whatever you give him and more. He doubles over and you swing your leg around, bringing it down across his face.

You hear a crack as your socked foot connects with his face, something crunches underneath you. And when your sole hits the mat again you see the blood leaking from his nose. You almost apologize. Almost, then you see the look on his face. His pupils are swallowing the hazel of his eyes, lips parted as he pants through his teeth. He looks fucking animalistic.

You have no warning as he pounces on you. His lips smother your own, moving over you with little to no grace. There’s nothing romantic or gentle about this. His fingers are digging so hard into your shirt, you’re sure you hear the seams rip. But you can’t bring yourself to care.

One of your hands goes to his hair, tugging at the roots until he’s groaning into your mouth. You rake your nails up his back roughly. He cusses against your lips, hand traveling up to your chin so he can roughly jerk you back.

He stares down at you, a silent question on his face. You’ve barely nodded before he’s descending upon you again. Lips and teeth clash borderline painfully as he lowers you onto the mat. You’re missing all the usual love and tenderness he treats you with, but you don’t care.

You want to be rough. You want to hurt him like he hurt you, make him ache for you the way you do him. You wrap your legs around his, lifting your pelvis until you have enough leverage to flip him. Your thighs straddle his waist and you grind down against the prominent bulge in his sweatpants.

He groans into your open mouth, large palms grabbing at your ass and spreading you so he can thrust between your clothed thighs. You can’t help but moan at the friction. It’s just enough to keep you on edge, he pulls back every time you think you might be close to something real building.

You rip your mouth off his. He glares up at you as you grab his hair and yank his head back. You slam his head hard enough into the mat for it to echo through the room and he growls against your grip. You grin down at him as you slowly get off him. You make a show of stripping, enjoying the way his eyes track your movements. He looks like a dog, panting and waiting for his treat.

You’re tempted to get yourself off, making him watch, and then leave him straining against his sweatpants. But you need this bad, need him to scratch the itch you can’t reach so you can finally get him out of your head. Neither of you are patient as he jerks his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to pop out.

It’s already leaking from the tip like a faucet. You kneel, straddling his waist again. You don’t have to do much to slick him up. You pump him a few times before he’s gripping your wrist and jerking your hand away. “Get up here,” he commands, voice rough as he grips your hips. You don’t even get a chance to protest before he’s flipping you over.

He grabs your thighs and wraps them around his waist. Your ass is off the ground, hovering above his lap as he lines up with your slit. You moan when the tip rubs against your clit. “Whose teasing now?” You grit out, glaring at him.

His lips curl up, that insufferable smirk on his face before he slams into you. The attitude is practically fucked out of you as he starts pumping in and out. You groan, raking your hands down his chest. He fucking moans at the pain, blood blooming under your nails and immediately closing the further down you go.

Neither of you are giving up this fight, you don’t want to lose, not even while you’re fucking. He pulls out of you and flips you over so fast you don’t even have time to whine. He’s back in you before you can blink, hips slapping into you in a way that you know is going to leave bruises tomorrow. You’re not going to be able to sit for a week and he knows it. His hands are groping at the skin of your ass, pulling you apart and watching the skin ripple as he fucks into you.

You’re not going to last long. You’ve been too desperate, too pent up while you’ve been pissed off at him. He leans over you, draping himself across you lazily. You groan at the added weight, it only adds to the sensation, only makes you want him deeper inside you. “Thought you didn’t want me anymore, sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear and you flutter around him as his hand snakes around your waist, rubbing tight circles on your clit.

You open your mouth but all that comes out is disjointed moans. You know there’s something sarcastic in there, and he must know too because he laughs at your pathetic mumbled sentence. “I don’t know,” he leans back and watches as he makes room for himself inside you. “Seem to need me real bad now.”

Your nails dig into the mat, energy leaking through your fingertips and warming up the canvas beneath you. You can feel it fluctuating, fighting against the cuffs the closer he brings you to the edge. “Fuck you,” the words escape you at a particularly deep thrust and you struggle to keep your eyes open.

He pauses and you nearly cry at the loss of movement. “Sorry, couldn’t hear you. What’d you say? Stop?”

You glare over your shoulder at him “Don’t you fucking dare, Logan.” You let your power push up against his back, forcing his hips to move again. He chuckles at the move, fingers creating figure eights on your nub.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” he protests, voice innocent. “Ah, fuck,” his voice is nothing more than low grunts and groans in your ear the closer the both of you get to your release. You can’t speak anymore, can’t think. You can feel it cresting higher and higher inside you.

Your abilities are rising with your release. They’re pushing against the cuffs, fighting desperately against the control the foreign metal has on your powers. You can feel it, heat building up under your skin, like a tingling on the tip of your tongue that you just can’t reach. It’s Logan’s release that finally tips you over the edge.

The way his breath catches and his hips stutter in their perfect rhythm as warmth floods you from the inside out. You can feel it, him, dribbling down your thighs and staining the mat beneath you. It has you clenching around him, pushing your hips back weakly while you let the feeling overwhelm you. You nearly black out. Two weeks without him hadn’t felt long until you remembered what you were missing.

You lose your sense of time, dropping to the mat like your bones have gone liquid, dripping out of you. You can feel Logan draped over you still, his weight a comforting blanket that nearly has you drifting to sleep. Naked, in the middle of the boxing ring. He pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss.

He shushes you, rubbing a hand up your spine and pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your temple. He wraps his arms around you, laying down and pulling you back into his chest. It takes a few minutes of quiet cuddling for you to remember what exactly led you down to the gym in the first place.

You feel disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. It’s clear what his plan had been. And you’d fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. You’d barely even fought against him. Of course, you could reason that you needed to get the tension out. This was the perfect way to funnel out your built-up energy.

But you’re disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. You just disregarded dignity and self-respect for a chance to get him between your legs. You were such a fucking idiot. No wonder this is all he wanted you for.

“Shit,” you mutter, trying to pull yourself out of his grip. Your eyes widen as his arms tighten around your waist. He tugs you back down until he’s got you in what essentially feels like a headlock. He could easily pass it off as spooning, but it feels a little more demanding than that. “Logan,” you warn, the silent peace of the moment officially shattered.

“Don’t,” he gripes. You can fight against him for as long as you want, but you’ll only tire yourself out. His arms are literally metal bands around you. “Let me talk and then you can run off.” You huff and wait, but he never speaks. Finally, you look over your shoulder and glare at him. “Well?”

You roll your eyes, “Fuck’s sake,” you mutter. “Alright, speak.”

You can feel his grin against the back of your head. If he didn’t have you in such a tight grip, you’d elbow him in the gut just to be petty. “I made a mistake,” you scoff and he keeps going. Stopping you from interrupting him with something bitchy. “You weren’t just something convenient to me, sweetheart.” he pauses and chuckles, “You’re a huge fucking pain in my ass.”

“Is this your idea of an apology?” You snap, “Because this is pathetic.”

He doesn’t say anything and you’re tempted to snark at him again. But then the world is flipped on its side as he jerks you around and forces you to face him. Your chests rub together, the sweaty skin sticking together and bordering on uncomfortable. “You ever shut up?” He asks, but there’s no heat to the words. If anything he looks fond of you, and it makes you shift around, trying not to look him in the eye. But there’s nowhere for you to hide, you’re both naked and bare before each other.

You’re as physically vulnerable as he must feel emotionally. And as much as this is a horrible way to display how he’s feeling, you’re starting to understand him a little better. You know why this conversation is so hard for him, why he can’t accept that someone truly loves him and he loves her back.

But that’s not going to get him out of it. He’s still yet to say the words. Maybe if he manned up and said something real you’d consider forgiving him. You give him an expectant look and he sighs, forehead pressed against yours as he slumps over you. You want to pretend you’re annoyed at the contact, but you’ve been craving it since you ran away two weeks ago.

You’ve been desperate for this warmth that only he can provide you. Without realizing it, you nuzzle further into his chest, hands drifting up to wrap around his bare waist. Logan feels the tightness in him ease slightly at the way you curl into him. He’s got a shot, even if you try and tell him he doesn’t.

It’s silent for a while, while you linger in the emotions of what just happened and he tries to find the right words. He leans down, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and smiling against the shell of your ear. “I love you,” he whispers.

You’d told yourself you’d only consider forgiving him if he said those words. But that’s only because you’d never thought he would actually say it. You didn’t think he was capable of admitting that to himself. It seems so out of character for him. But, maybe, you don’t know him as well as you thought you did.

He pulls back, hand landing on your jaw and gently guiding your head out of his neck. He gives you an expectant look but you’re finding it hard to meet his eyes. You’ve been waiting for him to say that, but now it feels like you can’t. You’re still struggling to forgive him. He put you through so much unnecessary hurt just because he couldn’t face his own feelings.

And now you’re struggling to do the same. “I want to say it back,” you tell him. “But how am I supposed to trust that the next time things get hard, you won’t lash out again?”

He frowns, an irritated huff of breath shooting out his nose. But you know it’s frustration towards himself. For letting you both get to this point because he couldn’t just say three words. “I’ll wait,” he promises. “For as long as it takes, I’ll wait.”

You smile and nod, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his neck. You’re sure you’ll be saying it sooner rather than later. But what’s the harm in making him squirm a little? He deserves it.

A/N: I don’t write smut, it’s literally in my rules. I think I stared at a gif of him for too long and some horny ass demon possessed me and made me write this. Forgive me, universe, I’m no better than a man.

#Wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x you #x men #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine #smut #ohmygod #i can’t believe i wrote this #Someone sedate me #im just a girl #i cant be blamed LOOK AT HIM #he's actually older than every adult man in my life #can you tell i need therapy

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lixies-favorite-cookie · 2 months ago

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you'd never let me fall ・b.c

—Bangchan who carries you home while your a little drunk and your feet a lot a bit hurt

paring・bangchan x gn!reader // genres・fluff, established relationships // words・900 // warnings・drunkenness, if you don't like rambles or tooth-rotting fluff than you won't like this

a/n・i needed something soft and fluffy after a pretty big fight with my dad and i found this also @sunnysdiary istg i dont know what i would do without you ilysm. p.s. lowkey proud of myself for finally just writing (i only edited once for like an hour :))

You were exactly two blocks away from your apartment when the handful of shots you had thrown back earlier really started to hit you. The sun had died hours ago, the sky now sparkling with stars that seemed to dance and tangle with the streetlights in your vision.

Wow.

You were really fucked up.

You sigh, leaning deeper into the crook of Chan's neck, his hand pressed protectively against your back as he holds you up. His breathing is soft and calming when the world begins to shift again, sharp pain shooting up your legs thanks to the stupidest decision you made all night—wearing high-heels.

The only thing that could be heard over the harsh click of your foot-shaped-death-traps is your pained groan as you loll your head against Chan's shoulder and stumble over the sidewalk mindlessly.

"I'm tired, carry me home," you slur, a slight whine in your voice. He simply smiles, looking down at your dizzy gaze with tender eyes before effortlessly scooping you up bridal style.

The moon grins with you.

Your heartbeats intertwine as you squeal, lovesick giggles pouring from your lips as you hide your face in his sweat-coated neck.

There was no way he was real.

You pull away, blinking up at his sharp jaw and shiny lips, and you swore if you looked just long enough you could find the stars hung on his lashes. There was something about him, something that spread warmth underneath your ribs. You could never quite place it—the feeling bursting within you before settling down like sweet rose perfume fading off your shirt as your nose acclimates to the scent.

Perhaps it was the alcohol that made you so sentimental, or how in a rush of emotion you remember days when you used to assess others by their expressions, the tone of their voice, and the heaviness of their footsteps. You had gotten so used to living on the edge of disaster the thought of certainty deemed to be an impossible feat—that was until you met Chan. He was something special, he loved you softly, with gentle fingers and adoring gazes. He wasn't loud, not with his words or his actions, and sometimes from the outside, society might have deemed he didn't love you at all, but you knew better than that.

Just because it was subtle didn't mean it wasn't there—it just meant it was safe.

The notion alone is enough to bring tears to your eyes, drunkenly choking out: "Thank you for always carrying me."

His gaze softens before he faintly tilts his lips, muttering, "Thank you for letting me carry you."

You were almost to the house when, mindlessly, half-asleep, you mumble, "You'd never let me fall," before going limp in the comfort of Chan's strong arms.

If you weren't so drunk, you might have noticed the shift in his stride, how a shy blush falls over his cheeks and he fights the urge to spread a smile so bright across his face it would put the sun to shame.

But you were far too gone to notice. And he was so focused on keeping you safe that he didn't sense how deeply in love with him you were right then.

You were correct; down to his very last days, he would never let you fall.

You hadn't realized how close you were to the apartment before he steps through the unlocked door, your vision blurring into the darkness of your shared home. It was the silky sheets you felt first, the warmth of his hand leaving you only before he gently pulled the covers over your body and right underneath your chin.

He kisses your forehead, lips lingering there before, hesitantly, he whispers, "I don't know what I'd do if I didn't get to carry you."

He brushes a stray lock of hair from your eyes as you crack them open only to smile, lopsided and silly. "I guess we'll never know."

Bangchan stares at you for hours after that, admiring you in all your tranquility. He knows he should stop, but he also knows he can’t. It had bottled inside him for so long, and it felt as though the rug had been ripped out from under him, and suddenly his feelings flooded out of him all at once. This wasn't what average love felt like—it was pure, gentle, and, best of all, entirely absolute.

In the novels, love is described as something maddening, profound, and disorienting. And while there are moments where it felt as though the galaxy had been sewn into your fingertips, it was more than that. Chan quickly came to find that love lived in silence—the intimate moments where words didn't matter. There was no pressure or unrealistic expectations when he was with you, no anxiety about being perfect all the time. Being with you made his world feel... lighter.

He breathes, brushing a lock of hair out of your face. You shift, instinctively leaning into his touch. A small smile tugs at his lips when the moonlight catches your face just right; you were peaceful, angelic like spring flowers fluttering in the breeze.

There are very few things in this world that are truly poetic. Some may say the stars, the sea, humanity, and the very depth of our emotions. And while Chan could agree with all of those, his love for you outweighed them all.

please don't forget to reblog with tags or comment what you think your feedback makes my day 😁

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landoughnut · 4 months ago

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Pit Stop Staring

♡ masterlist - request

♡ pairing - lando norris x mechanic!fem!reader

♡ summary - lando notices you during a pit stop, gets distracted and stares at you, and embarrasses himself on the radio being aired as he gushes over you, but with a little push from Zak, he makes his move on you!

♡ warnings - fluff, BLUSHY and nervous lando, love at first sight, a pinch of jealousy, Zak's a wing man, lando being cute and STUTTERINGGG hehehe

♡ w/c & a/n - 1.86k | #ilovetommy

Today was your first day working as a mechanic during an actual race, and you couldn't be more excited. You'd just finished your months of training and you felt pretty confident in yourself, so you weren't too nervous.

The McLaren team was more than welcoming when you first started, although some were a little apprehensive to have a girl working with the heavy tires, you proved them completely wrong and quickly gained their admiration, making friends with some as well.

As for the two papaya drivers, you had only briefly met Oscar about a month ago while leaving a meeting. He told you he was happy to be working with you soon, and he thought you will do amazing. You spoke shortly before he was being called off by someone, but he said goodbye and wished you best of luck.

The other driver, Lando, you had unfortunately not met yet. You heard quite a lot about him, and people said he was kind with a great sense of humor, so you crossed your fingers and wished you were able to catch him and introduce yourself. You also had seen some edits of him on your feed, not that you would tell anyone that, but you couldn't deny that he was quite a looker.

Back to today, though, you were waiting to see the bright papaya cars pull into the pit stop for their tire exchanges. After some laps, the first one to pull up was Oscar, and you and the others quickly got to work with a successful change in just about 2 seconds.

You beamed as he drove away and got a high five from your mechanic friend, Tommy, and he grinned at you, "That was great! And your first time too! You'll be putting me out of my job soon," he laughs.

You shake your head and poke his side, walking back to the garage, "Don't be silly! I did learn from the best," you say and give him a dramatic wink.

"Ha. Ha. You flatter me," he pats your head. You just push his arm away and turn your head to look at the race stats.

Oscar is in a good fourth place currently, and Lando in second, four seconds behind Max. You watch the race for about three more minutes before you hear that Lando was told to box next lap, so you and the mechanics rush out to the pit once again and prepare your gear.

A few moments pass before you can spot Lando's bright helmet in his car coming closer. He finally arrives and pulls up into his spot, while doing so, he glances around and his eyes land on you.

His mouth drops open slightly and he whispers a little, "Wow." Everyone does his tire change just as fast as Oscars, but Lando was still staring at you, who he thinks might be an angel sent down from above just for him.

Wow, he thinks to himself again, you have to be the most gorgeous person he's ever seen. He doesn't even realize that everyone has cleared the way for him to exit the stop until he sees you tilt your head and he hears his race engineer's voice, "Lando! GO! What are you doing, mate?!"

That snaps Lando back to reality, and he quickly drives away, now in last place due to how long he was there. He feels his neck and cheeks heat up in embarrassment. There's no way he would have a chance with you after that.

"I-I'm so sorry, she was s-so beautiful, and she looks like an a-angel, I-I got distracted," he stutters quietly to Will, his race engineer.

"Oh my- Lando this is being aired, you can't say stuff like that, mate!" Will sighs but he can't help but laugh a little bit. However Lando does the opposite now, he chews his lip like he's about to cry of humility, since now he knows you just heard him say that and you were the only girl there, so you know he had to be talking about you.

Back to where you were, you laughed at the radio message, curious to who he was stuttering over. Tommy's eyes bulge as he hears it, head whipping toward you.

You look at him and furrow your eyebrows, "What?"

He just blinds at you before yelling, "Lando Norris said you're beautiful! And look like an angel!"

"What? No he didn't?"

"Are you- who else would he be talking about?!" Tommy puts his hands on your shoulder and gently shakes you.

"Uhh," you laugh and glance at the other mechanics who are smirking and you and raising their eyebrows up and down. "I don't know, there are some women team members right over there," you point to the side.

Tommy just drops his head down and shakes it, "No. He was talking about you!"

"But.. I'm.. well, me? Just an average new mechanic," you look down at your uniform, "in some very unflattering working clothes."

Tommy just steps back and crosses his arms, "First off, don't ever say you're 'just you', because you're my best friend here," he whispers, so the others won't hear him, and you giggle. "Second, the clothes may be a little unflattering but you're still a very pretty girl," he smiles at you.

"Awhhhhh, Tommy! Who knew you were such a sap!" You hug the boy in thanks and he reciprocates it as you walk to the garage once again.

"So are you going to ask him out later?"

You almost choke on your breath, "What? No! Of course not! Are you crazy?"

He rolls his eyes, "Come on, he was just stuttering. Lando Norris was stuttering over you, if that isn't love at first sight then I don't know what is," he shrugs.

"Tommy!" You slap his arm, "We are done with this conversation."

"But-"

"End of discussion!" You huff, turning on your heels and walk away. Leaving your friend to rub his face in defeat.

When the race ended with Lando placed seventh due to the mishap from before, he hopped out of the car and rushed over to Zak.

Zak pulls the boy in for a hug and ruffles his hair, which was quite the opposite reaction Lando had thought he would see, since he cost the team points.

Once he lets go of Lando, the only thing he gets out of his mouth is, "Who was that?"

Zak lets out a laugh and tries to keep in a grin, "Who? Her?" he nods over to you, standing while chatting with Tommy again. Lando frowns as he watches you two.

"Are they dating?" he asks the older man.

"Hmm," he pretends to think about it, "yes," he nods. Of course he's only kidding, trying the get a rise out of the British boy.

"What?" Lando's head snaps to the man, looking utterly devastated. Zak starts laughing loudly, looking at him, and thinks this is what the human version of a kicked puppy would look like.

"I'm only joking, buddy, why don't you go and ask her?" Zak pats Lando's shoulder.

"U-uh I don't know...."

"Oh, come on! You're Lando Norris!"

The boy sighs and looks at you longingly. That was until you glanced over at him and he quickly turned back to Zak, his face now turning red again at being caught. "What about no work relationships?"

Zak sighs and shakes his head, "Listen, I'll talk to people about it and I'll make it work, okay?" He smiles and Lando lets his lips twitch into a tiny smile. "Now, go get your girl!" He turns his shoulders and pushes him forward a little bit.

Lando blinks fast and his heart races as he nervously makes his way over to you two.

You don't notice but Tommy does and bites back a teasing comment. "Lando Norris! The legendary man himself!"

You look to your right and see the boy bouncing slightly on his feet, twisting his hands and he looks back and forth between you both. "H-hi," he whispers to you, his ears turning red at your kind gaze.

"Hi! It's nice to finally meet you," you smile at him.

Tommy nods, "Yeah, and nice radio message today, man, real smooth," he chuckles.

Unbeknownst to you, Lando now wishes the floor would swallow him whole. "Uh, y-yeah, thanks?"

Tommy just laughs, "Oh! I think someone is calling me, gotta go!"

You watch him walk away, and Lando glares at him. "Did you hear someone calling him?" you ask.

"No, but, um, I-I'm sorry for today, a-and I didn't-"

You quickly shake your head and smile, "No! Don't apologize, really! I'm honored!" You put your hand on his arm, causing him to tense. You quickly remove it and apologize, "I'm so sorry! I should have asked-"

"N-No!" Lando says, and Zak drops his head into his hands as he watches the scene from afar. "You can touch me anytime! I-I mean- bloody hell- n-not like that! I mean you can if you wa-" he slaps a hand over his mouth before he can embarrass himself and more.

You just blush as you watch the boy, you find it endearing, to be honest, you've never had someone act like this with you before. "Lando! Please, don't worry, I think your rambling is cute, and... you yourself are cute too," you put your hands behind your back.

"Me? Really? You think I'm c-cute?" He lets out a nervous laugh in disbelief.

"Is that so hard to believe?" You frown.

"I... guess not.. but you're.. you! W-way out of my league..." he trails off.

"You have to be joking!"

He just looks down at his feet and smiles, his body slowly untensing as he feels a little less nervous. It's not that he's stuttering and blushing because he's scared of you, he's just never met someone so... perfect.

He slowly raises his eyes back up to look at you, "Well... then would you m-maybe want to... get dinner with me later?"

Your smile widens at the hopeful look in his eyes, you pinch your arm once, just to be sure this is really happening and not a dream. "Of course! Oh, I'd love to, would you like my number to send me the details?" you ask him.

He nods and pats his pocket for his phone, "Oh! I left my phone in my driver's room... but if you have yours, I'll give you mine?"

"Sure," you nod and hand him your phone, watching as he creates a contact for himself. "Well, I do have to go back, I promised my friends to hang out for a bit after the race but I'll see you later," you tell him.

He smiles at you, "Alright, see you!"

You turn around, walking to your friends who were giggling to themselves, watching the whole thing.

Lando is left in his spot, practically lovestruck, "What a woman," he whispers to himself dreamily.

He jumps with a yelp when he feels a hand on his shoulder, "Well done, kid! You got yourself a date!"

Lando turns to look at a way too excited Zak Brown, "Yeah... I suppose I did."

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acid-ixx · 19 days ago

Note

Getting hyper fixated on the loving family series i was wondering if you could write a scenario in which the reader is kinda forced to appear at an event where Bruce is and he and the rest of the family watch as the reader shows up with Clark and Jon with a beautiful suit/dress (preferably a suit but either is okay) and the outfit so stunning the rest of the room can’t help but stare in awe and the batfam has to sit there and watch while the reader is living their best life and perhaps some smug attitude from Clark as Bruce notices some not so hidden love bites on the readers body. And death glares from the bat siblings as Jon is being super cuddly and loving with the reader to purposefully rile up Damien and the others???

all eyes on the prize p.t. 1 (a loving family, an unpalatable desire two-shot)

ft. yandere superfam x gn! neglected spouse reader x yandere batfam

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

— masterlist !

— a/n: implied nsfw between clark and the reader but no actual smut scene. also, interpret the reader as any gender!!! i personally put them in a suit cause it's not only classy but it's a very flexible and stylistic choice when it comes to fashion. clark is described as way larger, broader (due to kryptonian genes) than the reader but not taller, same with bruce, but i still tried to keep the reader as neutral as possible when it came to their appearance.

being the affair partner of a pulitzer price winning journalist was no easy feat.

being recognized by fans of his in public and having to sign their favorite articles of his was an alright task for you, having candid photos taken without your knowledge at every small outing you have with your little family was a fate you've already prepared for, even bump ins with other aspiring journalists who wish to live under clark's shadow, hearing them ramble about their passions on the side of the street whilst begging you to promote their own written entries to your partner was at least tolerable—

because those instances were far more easier to cope with than an upcoming gala.

because at least those moments still guaranteed your mental stability since all you really had to worry about were deranged conspiracists with no real power over you — over clark and his naturally protective kryptonian instincts which easily signals him to drop off his current missions and to swoop you in his loving arms whenever he senses you're truly in trouble — who can only ever type in newer theories that are quickly disputed by the fans who were always in favor of your current affair over your miserable marriage from months ago.

so yeah, it was safe to say that over the course of the months where you were safely tucked in your new home life, back when bruce and the others weren't aware of your affair; you'd never really had an excuse to worry about anything else.

really, clark's strong hands wrapped protectively around the expanse of your waist whilst he flies you around metropolis on one of your little dates, alongside jon convincing you to take him out to buy another tub of ice cream were enough assurances that your domestic life right now is all a perfect bubble that could never be popped by whatever bullshit the wayne's might've planned against your little family could ever do.

really, you thought you were so cunning.

— but a charity event hosted by the bruce wayne in acknowledgement for the daily planet all of a sudden? a gala you're sure would guarantee the presence of your ex-family, aware of the infamous affair you had with clark kent?

a gala where your new family was required to attend, not just for the sake of publicity, but because the invitation contained thinly veiled threats admitting that clark might — or would — lose his job if he didn't bring you along?

an invitation sent to him a week prior, that he'd kept hidden from a cabinet you rarely open. to which he thought you wouldn't notice his skittishness for the past few days, except your human intuition begged your intrigue, to investigate upon your partner's sudden source of stress.

so here you are now. breathless in the middle of your bedroom, stunned as you feel blood rise to your head.

and as much as clark comforts you through his warm chest covering your entirely shaken body as he softly coos on your neck, warm breath fanning against the sudden cold washing over your body; as much as jon tries to reassure you that you've nothing to worry about as his tiny, yet strong hands, tries to pry off the crumpled piece of paper in your grip, reeking of bruce's favorite cologne you'd always have to endure when sleeping in the same empty bed of his back then, as much as conner jokes around right beside you, holding your arms and helping your levitate with his telekinesis in case you might collapse from the shock— as much as your family tries to feed your disillusioned thoughts that everything is okay, even they couldn't deny the cold, hard truth: you all are attending the wretched gala either way.

the company's head passing on the message that clark and, in implied provocation and extension, you, are going to be the star of the show was enough of a guarantee that your family had to be there.

the ornate, black box laced with silken ribbons of your favorite color, laying upon the simple, white bedsheets of your shared bed with clark, its fancy design clashing with the simplicity of your bedroom and standing out, lid slightly ajar, revealing a decadent pair of pearl earrings – no doubt real, and expensive and taunting – and the infamous diamond encrusted ring you thought you'd thrown away was enough of a mockery, enough of a warning that there's more than just rivalry between clark and his old friend—

but a simple statement that even if you managed to temporarily dislodge your old family away from your life, even if you'll push and shove away at your ex-children's attempt of communication with you, even if you wrote off your last name as kent; you ultimately still belong to the wayne's.

and that's enough of a statement which brews a bitter storm inside of clark's heart. makes him want to retaliate, not with a physical fight against the bat, no, he doesn't want you to worry your pretty head anymore than the cruelty his old comrade had already done; but with his own little statement against bruce in this gala, with his own twist which he knows will floor his rival's jaws to the floor once the scheduled gala will come the day after.

for now, though?

he gestures conner with a look, one he often shares to the other kid of his: where he wants him to take jon elsewhere, preferably far away from the house, and leave you two couples some space to think through your choices.

one that says, "i'll have this handled," without so much a word uttered, as conner nods in reply before ushering jon with the same look and a gentle promise that they'll play some games overnight in his apartment instead. jon, as hesitant and oblivious as he is to let go of his tight grip on your shirt, pouts and releases his hold, but not without flying to kiss your dampened cheeks and whispering: "you'll be alright, dad/mom. we'll keep you safe."

then they both leave within the flashing seconds.

when your confused, downward gaze, eyes lined with a fresh wave of tears shifts to the scene in front of you — the family working in tandem with no verbal cues — just right before you could even question clark what he's planning; he shushes you, kissing the crown of your head with the softest smile he could plaster upon his face, a mask ignoring the cruel urge to fly over to gotham, redirecting the rage, transforming it into the adoration he feels for you at this moment, at every passing moment.

at least in the safety of your bedroom, his ultimate prize is still in his arms: willing and gilded in a way bruce could never earn.

he'll make sure the man knows of this the next day.

for now, he turns you to face him as his hand directs itself to the back of your waist, squeezing reassuringly, his other palm cupping the fat of your cheeks, swiping away the salty trails until his thumb and index reaches your bottom lip, pinching lightly. you stare back at his slightly squinted eyes, no doubt capturing you in slow motion just to embrace every little feature of yours, and hold on to his broad shoulders, relaxing from your hold.

but it's you who still doesn't calm down, it's you who still needlessly worries. and clark doesn't like it when his sweetheart thinks of anything else if not him and your family.

not the wayne's.

"what now, clark?" you graze the furrowed crease of his brows with your thumbs, massaging. he hums, laughing at your antics of helping him relax, then leans in to peck your lips, exhaling heartily when you pout at his refusal to reply.

what you didn't notice, though, were the hands suddenly wrapped around your thighs, your thoughts too messy, mind too slow, to comprehend your back pressed against the mattress and the fancy box discared on the rug with a gentle thud.

his breath tickling the core of your ears was the first thing you sensed.

"what now, you ask?*

both your clothes were discarded faster than the heat crawling up your face and the shivers running up your spine.

his mouth made immediate work on your neck all the way to your collarbone, sucking your vulnerable skin until it turns into deep shades of purples clashing with yellow. he bites a little harder when you squeak and tangle your fingers on his messy curls, then teases you with skilled fingers kneading your inner thighs.

he pins you down, you can feel the hairs of his chest pressing against your bare ones, and yet you don't push away, finally realizing the implications of his actions. what he intends for bruce to see, for the world to see.

"—i say we need to show bruce what he's been missing out on this whole time."

a longer, more passionate kiss was enough to set the deal.

the flash of the ever-so insisting paparazzi were as overwhelming as you can expect.

loud, insistent, buzzing with energy at the latest gossip and questions enough to hurl even great thinkers into a mind numbing spiral. they picture your every move, record your every reaction, and twist words spoken into their spit-encased microphone into delirious titles for the media to digest.

yet as invasive as they were, it was one of the legal ways he can obtain your pictures without you or clark suspecting a thing or two for these past few months; living in your own space without doubting if your private life was as private as you'd thought it'd be.

what with damian sneaking off and hitching a ride with jason on his motorcycle just to watch you from afar, standing right outside your apartment with baited breath, going as far as picking your locks and entering just to get a whiff of the life they'd miss without you? or tim hacking through surveillance cameras in areas you frequent, capturing every little smile of yours and pasting it in a bulletin board as a means to gain inspiration? all in the guise of needing you alive—?

suffice to say he was grateful for the media's thirst for drama. it gave off less suspicions, made it so that superman doesn't feel the need to be following his tail after unneeded circumstances where his own children had been caught in the same space as you in public.

it helped track you down: the constant headlines mentioning your name, vicki vale and a bunch of other no-named journalists would often be caught in the spiral of keeping the internet interested in the tale of your affair.

their performance was satisfactory.

and yet it doesn't dismiss the fact that because his life had always been centered around yours — and in his due ignorance, his missed priorities, it was he who was also the reason as to why you left the safety of your manor — that also meant his involvement in the internet's latest drama.

he always has been, but sometimes, even he gets tired.

bruce wayne can handle the element of crime, can help sweep off blood-soaked streets, fund the countless hospitals rattling with new patients of the villains he had dealt with, pay for students' debts, and rehabilitate victims of the corrupt system—

but he can never control the public and their opinions.

especially when it came to him and his... ex-spouse.

bitter as the title tastes on his tongue, right now, he feels their prying eyes swarming his body as he stands by the high arch of the entranceway, sculpted body illuminated by the moonlight stretching across the horizon, reflected by the dangling chandeliers casting a sickening orange light; quite frankly, the warmth of the colors doesn't bring comfort upon the anxiety creeping right beneath his skin.

he can hear the gossip and expectations for what is to come, the crowd's own speculations all but mere background talk to him as he focuses solely on the countless of familiar faces passing between thick, mahogany doors, initiating greeting with every entering folk; a false smile plastered on his weary face, a controlled crinkle of his eyes, overly saccharine hello's burying the barely disguised disinterest in their brief conversations before another wave of people come in.

the earpiece tucked in his right ears are flooded with anticipatory conversation about when or if you're going to arrive.

he can't deny his own patience waning as his eyes scan the countless piercing ones amongst the crowd, singling out his children making talk with other guests as a way to pass time.

tim's entertaining the guests, used to the constant socialization required due to his upbringing, he emits a hearty laugh at someone's joke: light, yet empty at the seams. duke tries – but fails – to follow his lead, adjusting to the change in scenery; he pretends to be shocked by the drama occurring between the socialites, sneering under his breath at their ridiculously obvious bragging about another new, undeserved property bought, preferring to focus elsewhere.

damian's doing well under dick's guidance, making an actual effort to disguise his contempt for the crowd, communicating with some and faking awe, yet whenever he scoffs openly, dick subtly glares at the smaller child as warning which prompts him to shut up momentarily. meanwhile, jason is properly hidden behind the sculpted columns, hawk eyes assessing every known guests and providing updates to the family in the comms for suspicious activity.

barbara chose to fancy herself in the batcave, with access to the security cameras plastered on every corner and outside the venue's premises. steph and cass are together, munching on the buffets and assessing which pastry dish is the best, they ignore the other guests trying to talk to them whilst they play with the fancy clams displayed in the corner of the table.

all of them, committing to their own, unique way of passing time—

and yet they all share the same, disinterested gaze as bruce.

choosing to return brief eye contact with him, raising their brows, as if they're all asking the same question:

"where are they, bruce?"

(because, after all, the only purpose of this gala, and their willingness to cooperate with one another without bickering, is to finally share the same space with you after months of silent treatment, months of your lack of cooperation for a counseling session between troubled couples with bruce, months of being held in another man's arms, littered with kisses that aren't his own, spending moments with another child— superman's, no less. and under his protection and attention, you are no doubt invulnerable for any opportunities of kidnapping. at least, in this event, even if it's just for a temporary moment. for confirmation, maybe, that you're safe and sound and happy and thriving without them, and that maybe they'll be glad that you chose clark and his family over them).

them and their undeniable sin of ignoring you.

sure, they should've been glad you left and never turned back. he should've been grateful that there was one less person worrying over him.

(but he knows, deep down, bruce knows it in his sick, twisted mind that it's never what they wanted. bruce knows that they needed you).

so when you finally entered the fray, it was no denying that they all felt the same, compelling and magnetic pull that you've always had — that they chose to turn their backs on, that they discovered all too late was something they yearned for — garnering all of their sporadic attention into one singular being: you.

"oh my god, bruce... they're..."

gorgeous? quite the eye-catcher? the moment everybody's all been waiting for? the reason why this event was hosted in the first place? there's no need to voice out the obvious, no denying that more than anything, you weren't anything less than desirable for the eyes of many.

god, he gulps and feels the parchness of his throat, feels perspiration sliding down his adam's, sinfully he admits that his hunger for you tonight might've multiplied.

his shaky blue eyes share a brief, yet cutting contact with yours, at your dismissive ones staring at him before it ultimately returns to your partner— and he feels the same spark he's felt all those years ago, the same gluttony, the same green envy at every person who shares a close relationship with you prior your marriage to his.

then he remembers why he's willed himself to turn his back on you: you're the reason why bruce forced himself to avoid you— he was afraid, unprepared that the moment you stepped into his life, that if he felt your skin's electrifying contact with his, if he heard that fucking voice of yours tempting him to take a break from being the bat and instead spend a night with him in bed, in your arms, if he feels so much of your warm breath hitting against his bare skin? he might lose himself in the plot; given up his entire life just to feel your body fused with his.

he knew the risk, he wasn't simply ready to take it, wasn't ready for the domesticity of it all.

and now he realizes, his life's always been devoted to you. and also, he's ultimately fucked up his chances of bringing you back into the family without complaints.

"you'd think they change for the worse or so, but no... they're still as charming, bruce— just better now. look, nobody's taking their eyes off of 'em, and they even bought the little kid–"

"— fucking hell. bruce, if you don't move your ass to greet them right now, i'm going to—"

dick's momentary lapse of amazement was interrupted by a series of swears from jason. sworning at him too, probably, about his ultimate talent for fumbling his best asset, about him losing someone so hellishly tempting, about why he's glued to his place, stunned to even plaster a welcoming smile when he hears your polished, black pointed shoes clacking across the marbled floors.

but he doesn't focus on their blurring words and conjoined awes. he doesn't even take his eyes off of your own fingers intertwined with clark's, the silver wedding band he's seen in the pictures still attached to your ring finger, instead of the diamond ones he's sent over to your apartment as a means of apologies.

his attention doesn't waver at all, not when he's too busy losing his breath over... you.

not when he zeroes in at the sickening sight before him—

dazzling as you were, adorned with a loose, white shirt – unbuttoned, just to give bruce and the crowd around you a glance of your clavicle – peeking out of the layered, gray vest, a blazer draped over your shoulder, and a tie sits loosely at the base of your outfit to complete the simple look; as if that would distract everyone from the sight of the fresh love marks littering the entirety of your neck all the way to the exposed clavicle. as if the sight of your slightly swollen lips doesn't suggest that you've probably made out with your affair partner before even entering the premise, not when he can already pinpoint the equally, if not more, bitten lips of clark and your favorite gloss unwiped from the side of his mouth.

fresh, newly gifted marks for the world to see. bruce can picture it, your heated flesh bitten and sucked over and over again the night prior to the event. how clark could easily conjure sweet noises from the back of your throat, how he must've known, must've burnt the taste of your saliva, sweat and salty, pleasured tears into every pore of his tongue until all his appetite caters only to you.

and you're wearing the same damn lapel pins. one of your favorite flowers that he's seen his own comrade wore before in a similar event. it's not just his own rival claiming you, it's you openly showing everyone that you've already been taken.

clark and his children, not yours – he can accept being cheated on, but he'll never allow you the comfort of replacing your own children – conner and jon, stand beside you, sharing the same colors for his own outfit. the man's nose held high, way too high for a man who pretends like he didn't just snatch off his own damn spouse right behind his back.

yet all he could do was squint his eyes, glare profusely, ignore the hastened thumping in his heart, the green envy flooding his vision. teeth clenched in controlled irritation, he's positioned perfectly so the camera's wouldn't easily capture his reaction, but even then does he feel the need for a mediocrum of control, but he can't. he can't control the visceral urge to pull out his kryptonite reserves hidden temptingly inside the batcave; he can't deny just how crazy you're already driving him despite having never felt your own touch for a long, grueling time.

he only snaps out of his stupor when you're only two strides left. when the light hits your sparkling eyes and reflects your obviously lovelorn gaze at the man whose biceps you wrap your hands around, who returns the gaze with a deeper intensity until your attention ultimately shifts to your own husband in front of you.

suddenly, the deafening whispers hollowed itself out.

suddenly, your eyes become dull and lifeless under the chandelier's warm glow.

not unforgivingly bitter, not even a hint of rage— but empty and unthinkingly cold, like the wick of a candle fully blown out. like the silence right after a wave of fireworks.

a warmth that yields, reminding bruce of your love that burned away for year without anymore fuel to sustain it. unrequited, like the presence he never graced you with.

decades worth of training and fighting on the cruel streets of gotham could never prepare bruce for the hammering beats of his chest, it could never quite dull down the feeling of heartbreak encapsulated in one single, desolate stare. he's sure clark could hear his own hastened pulse, his eyes flicker quickly to his own friend's victorious, yet still worried gaze; but nothing else quite matters other than your own swollen lips struggling to make out words and the subtle furrow of your brows at just what to say to the man you thought you'd never see eye to eye.

you look so perfectly dolled up despite being so disturbingly marked up from head to toe.

nothing else matters right now other than having to greet them like normal, he convinces himself, except the fact that he could feel his own sweat running down his flushed neck and his own teeth biting down his lower lips, and his squinted eyes drifting lower and lower from your eyes all the way down to the pridefully displayed hickeys.

nothing else matters, except for bruce's own thoughts meandering on his own fantasies of just what your body would taste like once he's sought out to forcibly take you away from clark's arm and back into his own.

nothing else matters, other than the thoughts of possibly wanting to give you another child when he sees you momentarily distracted by jon pulling on your blazer and whispering about his boredom, only to be lightly scolded with a gentle graze of hands atop his curly hair, or conner's grumbling from beneath his breath about just ditching the greetings and flying off to the buffet, only to be met with your fluttering laughter and a pat on his back, whispering into the boy's ears— that bruce can't pick up with just his hearing, he reminds himself to go over the camera feed soon to enhance the audio, just to hear that lovely voice of yours — words enough to make the metahuman surrender for just a moment; the scene awefully reminds him a lot of the way his own mother used to tell him off with just a loving hush and a pinch of his cheeks—

goodness, you're everything his own children need right now. a guiding light, a dutifully great figure to discipline their rebellious attitudes.

and he gulps, then suddenly, the slacks he chose to wear just feels a tad bit tighter. suddenly, he's grateful that he chose to wear something more loose tonight.

"pleasure to see you, too, bruce." instead of your voice greeting him, instead of bruce finally having to hear you for the first time outside of the cameras his family has set up or hacked all throughout the places you frequently visit, it's clark's voice which breaks through the immersion when it should've been yours greeting him.

"what's up, mister wayne? how's life in the manor without my lovely parent, huh?"

conner follows through with his unwelcoming, all too lighthearted, all too mocking with his question before clark could even silence the young, all too passionate boy's unneeded comment, as if shoving bruce's mistake right in his face would prove something.

it's enough to irk him, really. he really has to remind himself to hold off on the kryptonite, for now.

and right now, all his focus should be on at least charming you enough tonight to convince you to return to your rightful family, as he ignores both clark and conner's greetings, immediately aiming for your wrist to bring it up to his lips.

your surprised yelp doesn't deter him from kissing your knuckles deeply while keeping eye contact with you, the abundance of cheers from the comms attached in his ears doesn't either.

all that matters right now, is that he has his eyes on the prize, and he's not willing to give it up any further.

a/n: firstly this first part is dedicated to both @luffyadolover and @neerathebrightstar !! since it's the former's BIRTHDAY !!! and if you're reading this, i wish to greet you with the happiest celebration with the yummiest cake and hopefully this fic is enough to make u even happier too !! and for the latter, neera, i'd love to thank u for ur unwavering support and talking to me and allowing me to yap about my own series' ! thank you both for your love, mwah mwah 🩷 <3

otherwise, leave comments please ? 🥺 my confidence in my writing has been at an all time low sadly, though i admit that i loved writing about bruce go from angsty to horny to straight up both. this was supposed to be a short fic, why did it suddenly become really long erm??? the second part will be posted tomorrow night !! for context, i always post around 12 to 4:00am at gmt +8 since i'm most active at night !! love y'all ! don't forget to leave remarks since i love reading through them it's like my main motivation.

taglist: @imjustasimp132 , @mimiiiiiiiiisstuff , @chericia , @queenofspades403 , @naina326 , @neerathebrightstar , @lilyalone, @nickey-diano , @tsuniio , @ssak-i , @kore-of-the-underworld , @lollipoppersposts , @peptox , @kdjhubby , @weirdcore-fantasy , @thypplover , @asdfghjklgayblog , @prince-nikko , @phoenixgurl030 , @antionwithadrawingpen , @circe143 , @ferchu0406 , @kittzu , @yuyuzi-ling , @moonieper , @esthxio , @ryuushou , @nickey-diano , @ssak-i

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greenwitchfromthewoods · 2 months ago

Text

text message. l Joel Miller

a/n : a while ago i got a message from anon asking me to write something for joel. i managed to do it today. sorry you had to wait so long. i hope you like it.

warnings : pre-outbreak Joel, some angst, misunderstanding, age difference (about 10 years), suspected pregnancy, argument, Sarah and Tommy mentioned, lots of uncertainty and fear

[Joel Miller masterlist] [my masterlist]

He shouldn't have done that. It was crossing all boundaries, violating your privacy and trust, but he couldn't help himself. When your phone made a series of strange noises that indicated a message had been received and you were in the bathroom at a gas station, Joel reached for it and looked at the screen. A cold chill ran down his spine a second later.

"Two weeks late? Did you take a test? You should see a doctor. What did Joel say?"

A heavy stone landed squarely in his stomach, and he felt his head spin. “Fuck!” he groaned almost silently, shaking his hand as he placed the phone back where you’d left it.

He immediately guessed what you and your friend could have been talking about, he had no doubts. If you were pregnant, that complicated everything.

Joel Miller wasn't entirely sure if he should do it, but when he met you on one of his bar crawls with his younger brother Tommy, he felt like fate had finally favored him. He was almost thirty-six, had a teenage daughter, worked hard, and couldn't remember the last time he'd met a woman. You, on the other hand, were simply beautiful, talkative, with a charming smile on your lips. You were also almost ten years younger than him.

It didn't bother him as much on your first date, or your second, or when you kissed on the couch, or after the first time you had sex. Joel felt younger and happier with you, and everyone around him noticed the change in him.

He fell in love like a stupid teenager, and you didn't make it any easier for him. It was only after a few months that he started to wonder. Maybe dating you wasn't so wise? Maybe you were really too young for him?

When you would visit him at work, bringing him lunch or something, guys would often make fun of him. Joel wasn't as immune to this as he thought. His insecurities grew, and worries about whether he was doing the right thing also grew in his mind too.

And now this. Pregnancy. When Sarah was born, he was too young, and now he felt too old to be playing in diapers. What if you, too, disappeared, like Sarah's mother? Would he be able to cope? What if no woman saw the possibility of a permanent relationship with him, and when the baby came, she simply ran away?

"Hey. Is everything okay?"

He didn't even notice that you had returned and were already sitting next to him. He nodded uncertainly and cleared his throat.

"Yeah. Tommy called, something at the construction site." he lied, quickly starting the engine.

"Do you want to go there?"

"What? No, I don't have to." Joel replied, "Sarah has a game today."

He didn't say anything else the entire ride home, and then to the game you went to with them. He seemed strangely distant, but you were certain he was constantly thinking about work. Even when you suggested ice cream afterward, Joel showed almost no interest.

You dropped Sarah off at a friend's for a sleepover and you were sure that you and Joel would go to his place, but when he suddenly said, "I'll drop you home." You already knew something was wrong.

“Did I do something wrong?” you asked as he pulled the truck up in front of your apartment. Once again, you spent the entire ride in silence, which wasn’t normal.

He shook his head. "No, everything's fine."

“Joel? Look at me, please.” He did it reluctantly, but eventually your eyes met. “You’ve been out of sorts all day. What’s wrong?”

"I've had a lot on my mind lately and..."

"Please, don't lie to me." You interrupted him. You weren't mad, he saw concern on your face. "Did something happen?"

“I…” he began, but the words were hard to get out of his throat. He felt your warm hand on his forearm and it broke him. “Are you pregnant?”

"W-What?" you blurted out, completely surprised.

"I saw, quite by accident, a message from your friend. You're two weeks late. Something about a test and a doctor. I need to know."

You looked at him with slightly parted lips, a small wrinkle appeared between your eyebrows. You couldn't gather your thoughts in your head, but Joel clearly couldn't stop himself from talking.

“I think about it all the time. You’re still young, you have plans,” he said, and you felt every word hit you harder. “I know we should be more careful. This whole thing between us is still new and uncertain. You’re so young, I shouldn’t have… Fuck. I fucked it up.”

"What the hell are you talking about, Miller?" you gasped, completely stunned by his words "What do you mean - too young? I..."

"Look at us. I have a teenage daughter, and you're at the beginning of your career. You can leave this town anytime you want, because there's nothing keeping you here. But what if you're pregnant? That complicates things like hell and..."

"Stop it!" you raised your hand in warning "You're talking nonsense! I knew how old you were from the beginning, I knew about Sarah and it didn't bother me."

Joel rolled his eyes. "Now you say that."

“Oh! And you’re a know-it-all!” you snorted angrily. “So I think it’s safe to say you took advantage of a young and fresh pussy.”

Joel gave you a stern look, but you didn't even blink. You were ready to fight him if he wanted to. You were aware of his fears and insecurities, but you thought that by this point you had already shown him how much you cared about him. Age was just a number to you, and ten years didn't make much difference when you weren't a teenager anymore.

"I never thought of you that way." he replied, clenching his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning slightly white.

"I feel different now." you replied, shrugging. "Because you're acting like you're just looking for an excuse to break up with me. Because you read some message on my phone? Please! That's pathetic!"

“Pathetic?!” Joel raised his voice. How could you be so indifferent to how your life might change? No one in their right mind would decide to have a child so soon. But of course, you were still young, the romantic vision of a family still lingered in your mind, and you didn’t realize how much it would affect you.

Joel wanted to say something else, but you suddenly grabbed your things and got out of the car slamming the door. He quickly got out after you.

"Did you take the test? When are you seeing the doctor?" he asked, catching you before the door.

"Leave me alone." you hissed, ripping your arm out of his grip. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"I think I do."

You looked at him in a way Joel had never experienced before. Your warm gaze turned hard and angry, your mouth a thin line, and your entire body took on a defensive stance. You had never argued like this before.

"Fine." you finally said. "I'll tell you. I have an appointment on Monday. Are you happy?"

"I'll go with you."

“Don’t be ridiculous, this doesn’t concern you at all,” you laughed nervously. “And it definitely doesn’t concern you now.”

Joel looked at you in surprise. So he's already screwed everything up? He's already erased those few really good months?

“I’m not pregnant,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “My last checkup showed I had ovarian cysts. They caused my periods to be irregular, and now my period is a few weeks late. The doctor said I should see him if that happens.”

"Cysts?" Joel repeated.

"Yes! I didn't tell you anything because I didn't see the need." you replied "I'm not pregnant, Joel. And you... You, fucked up."

You turned around and disappeared through the door before he had a chance to say anything.

Joel had all night to think about what had happened. All night without sleep, when he kept seeing your angry face in his mind, when he kept repeating your words and feeling worse by the moment. He picked up the phone several times to call you, but he kept giving up, terrified you wouldn't pick up.

What would he have done if you hadn't picked up? Would that have meant the end for both of you? He couldn't believe that his own fears and insecurities had led him to attack you so suddenly. He could have done it differently, he could have waited for you to say something. Instead, he had cornered you and forced you to admit to something that was clearly your own personal issue, one that you wanted to resolve on your own.

He knew nothing about women's health issues. When Sarah got her first period, he managed with the help of a nice store employee, and then his daughter took over. For Joel, a missed period meant pregnancy, and that meant panic and everything he had experienced before.

No, he didn't want to make excuses for his behavior. He had screwed up. He felt like you were disappointed in him and he had no idea what to do about it.

It was still early when he showed up at your place. You opened the door, sleepy, with ruffled hair, in one of those oversized t-shirts you slept in.

"Joel?" you mumbled hoarsely, rubbing your face, "Did something happen? Something with Sarah?"

He shook his head. "No. I had to see you. I had to... Fuck." He scratched the back of his neck, nervously shifting from foot to foot, "Can we talk? I, I need to know that I didn't completely fuck this up."

You looked at him for a moment in silence, as if you were considering his words in your head. It was a really long few seconds, but you finally pulled away, allowing Joel to step inside. The apartment was bathed in morning sunlight, and Joel's eyes immediately went to the few framed photos of him and Sarah that you had at your place. Another needle stabbed him in the heart.

"So?" you asked, folding your arms over your chest. "I'm listening."

"I don't know where to start." he mumbled completely sincerely.

"I suggest you start from the beginning."

"I'm sorry, darling. I'm sorry for everything I said. I'm a fucking idiot."

You tilted your head. "Good start."

Joel took a deep breath. He wanted to do it right, he wanted to take advantage of the chance he was given. Maybe it was the last one he had.

"I know now that I should have been honest with you from the beginning. You're the most amazing woman I've ever met, and I still can't believe you chose me. I kept thinking we weren't right for each other, that we were too different."

“Are you still thinking about age?”

He nodded. "Yeah. See, you're young, and I..."

You rolled your eyes and cursed loudly. “If you’re going to give me this age difference bullshit, maybe just leave. Jesus! That’s not twenty or fifty. Joel, I’m an adult, I work, I pay taxes. I get to decide who I’m with?”

“You think so now.”

“I thought so from the beginning! When I met you, the first thing I thought was that you have gorgeous eyes and really broad shoulders. I felt good with you, I liked you, and I think you’re really sexy. It has nothing to do with your age.” You took a deep breath and put your hands on your hips, like you were trying to explain something really obvious. “Sarah is amazing, I love spending time with her. I love you, even though sometimes you drive me crazy, and yesterday you really pissed me off. I didn’t tell you about the doctor because there was nothing to talk about. But if you had any suspicions, you should have come to me instead of getting even more upset. I felt like you were just looking for a reason to break up with me.”

“It’s not like that.” Joel took a step toward you. “When Sarah’s mother left us, I was left to fend for myself. Yes, there was Tommy and my mother to help us, but single parenting is no easy feat. I was certain you would disappear, too. Not only would you leave me with a child, but you would simply conclude that I was somehow flawed, that I wasn’t cut out to be with you. I guess I preferred sabotaging us rather than simply facing my fears.”

You looked at him, trying to understand his words. His face, eyes, and body language told you he wasn't lying. Joel was full of uncertainty and doubt, but you thought you were past that stage. You told him many times that you loved him, you didn't belittle his needs, and you always helped him with Sarah or around the house. And yet he felt all of this?

“I’m trying to understand you, Joel, I really am.” You finally said, sighing softly. “But I can’t be the only one in this relationship fighting for us. I feel like no matter what I say or do, you’ll find a reason why we can’t be together. Do you even love me?”

“Oh, baby,” he groaned, moving closer and taking your face in his hands. “You have no idea how much I love you. And that scares me. I’m always afraid you’ll find all my flaws.”

"You have a lot of them. I do too. But does it matter when we're happy together?"

No, it didn't matter. The fear of losing you showed Joel what really mattered to him. He cared about you more than he could admit. He saw how perfectly you fit into his family, always trying to help everyone and make everyone happy. He didn't think he'd ever feel the same way about anyone again.

"I'm sorry, baby. I don't know what I could do to fix this." He whispered, you felt tears welling up in your eyes at how much he was going through. "But I don't want to end what we have. I love you, I'm sure of that."

"You think so now." You replied, parroting his words.

He smiled slightly. “I��ve known this for a long time, and I think the knowledge scared me. The fear that you’d disappear and I’d be left alone with this feeling. I don’t want you to disappear. I want to stay, permanently.”

"I want to stay too, Joel. Don't push me away ever again."

"Never again, baby."

He kissed you, softly and tenderly, as if he was afraid he still might. But when you kissed him back, Joel felt an unimaginable sense of relief. He had you in his arms again, all the dark thoughts swirling in his head dissipated and he felt happiness fill him. Your arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to you, letting him kiss you like there was no tomorrow.

You could get through this, together. By being more honest, by giving each other a chance at happiness and love, by supporting each other. Joel knew he would do anything to deserve you, and you couldn't imagine not giving him another chance.

“I’ll go to the doctor with you on Monday if you want,” he said as you poured him a fresh cup of coffee and sat down next to him at the table.

“If you want. I could use some support,” you replied, resting your head on his shoulder.

He kissed the top of your head and smiled. He would give you anything, and you never asked for much. You just wanted him to love you, and Joel wanted that too.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us

964 notes · View notes

toxicanonymity · 1 year ago

Text

EVERY INCH 4

SERIES MASTERLIST | SLASHERS MASTERLIST PAIRINGS: ghostface x f!reader; dark javi x f!reader LENGTH: ~6.6k words. The next one will be shorter.

SUMMARY: after what you did on the metro, you're ashamed and paranoid. javi crosses a line. ghostface does something he's never done before. so do you.

WARNINGS: I8+ dubcon, piv and various acts, references to noncon, somno, drugs, degradation, dirty talk, angst/shame, yearning, breeding & "daddy" kinks, descriptions of (not actual) pregnancy. Restraints, blindfold. And idk, it gets weird. Anonymous ghostface. We enjoy surprises in this series, soo WRITER CHOOSES NOT TO WARN IN FULL. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

A/N: Thank you for your patience and enthusiasm and omg all the love on the fics 🖤. Thank you negraarmadura (@theblackarmor) for your valuable input and inspiration. Also, @lunitawrites can shoulder some blame for the excessive breeding kink. Ty @saradika for the dividers.

🚨 FIC ART: banger collage by @aurorawritestoescape and action packed movie trailer by @carminepoison

Overnight, your fury and humiliation fades into gloom and confusion. Ghostface. You wake up itchy and dehydrated.

You never imagined things would go this far. You should kill him, right? Ghostface? Don’t you have to? Think about what he did to you. What he made you do. You should kill him, but you don't have the energy. And you're too angry at yourself to have much ire for anyone else.

Ghostface, a notoriously brutal killer, called you a serial rapist, and he wasn’t even really lying. How much of the metro disaster was planned? Did Ghostface orchestrate it, or did he simply seize the opportunity to watch, fascinated by your blind lust and rage?

You didn't want to know. As long as you weren't certain, you still had that little sliver hope that you didn't rape a stranger at gunpoint all on your own. But either way, you did hold the gun. Either way, you took the man’s dick out and degraded him as you forced yourself on him in the middle of a public train. Lost in the moment. Feeling like it was just you and him, Ghostface. Until it wasn’t.

The day after the metro, it feels like everybody knows what you did. Every time you close your eyes, images of crowds on train platforms blur through your mind. An infinite audience to your terrible crime.

You stay in bed, frozen, not wanting to face reality. Telling yourself it’s a dream. Sleeping off and on. Batting away uncomfortable thoughts–like when will you see Ghostface again? Is he going to call you? What will you do? You can’t get him off your mind.

Two mornings after the metro, you drag yourself out of bed, then out into the world. At the grocery store, you bump into your older pothead neighbor, and he asks if you're okay. Your heart races, thinking he must know. It takes you a moment to remember why he’s asking – your friend Marla was stabbed to death just days ago, and she wasn't the first.

In the checkout line, you space out until a man’s voice jars you from your trance. You apologize and put your items on the conveyor belt. When you’re just about to pay, you receive a text message from an unknown number, a fact which on its own makes your tummy tingle. When you read the text, your whole body turns hot:

I’ll split your ass like a tangerine.

The words land straight between your legs. As the grocer hands you your bags, he asks if you’re okay. You shake yourself out of it and nod. The grocer wishes you good luck. At least, that’s what you think he says. Good luck not getting caught? Good luck not getting killed? Good luck with what? You decide you must have imagined it.

In the parking lot, before heading home, you sit in your car for a few minutes, spaced out, wondering if you'll ever be able to go out in public again without feeling like this. Like everyone knows something awful about you.

On the way home, you can't get your phone to charge. You’re fiddling with the cord when blue lights flash in your rearview mirror, making your stomach drop. The lights turn off only after you're parked on the grass shoulder of the two lane road.

Every second feels like a minute until a tall, blonde cop in aviators gets out of his car, stretches, and strides over like he has all the time in the world. You roll down the window. He plants two huge hands on the top of your car and ducks down to look at you. For a few seconds, he doesn't say anything, just leisurely chews his gum.

Then, he shifts his stance and asks, “How ya doin’, ma’am?” Deep voice, smooth as butter.

Out of nowhere, you feel on the verge of tears. Avoiding your reflection in his shades, you swallow the knot in your throat and answer, “fine.”

He stops chewing and asks,“Yeah? You sure?”

You suck your lips together and nod.

He looks from you to the groceries in your front seat and the mess of junk in the back, then asks, “Where ya headed?”

“Home.”

He bobs his head in understanding and glances down the road, chewing his gum again.

Your heart continues to race as you watch his face for a long moment of silence. Finally, he speaks. “Well, put your fuckin’ phone down for me.” He raises his eyebrows and tips his shades forward, forcing his sky blue eyes on you. “‘k, darlin’?”

Your lips part, and you forget to blink until he winks at you and flashes a smile. Then you nod and mumble, “Uh. Yeah, sorry.”

He fixes his aviators back. “Careful out there, ‘k?” After a nod and a casual tap on your roof, he walks off. You watch him in the rear view mirror.

Are his legs that long, or is it the monochrome outfit? He adjusts his belt before getting in his car. Your chest bubbles with interest, attraction, and you curse yourself under your breath.

At home, you try to distract yourself by watching a show, but it’s just not possible. After what he did—what you did–on the train, you’re terrified to know what’s next. What you might do next in this absurd state you find yourself in where he consumes your every thought. And it hits you, the sickest part of all—why you attacked who you thought was Ghostface. Not because Ghostface attacked you, not because he tried to kill you, but because he left you after getting you worked up. Ghostface walked away from you. He left you alone and alive in that alley, and it upset you.

You find yourself at the bizarre revelation that you and Ghostface are the only people in your world that feel real right now. You’re inextricably linked. He’s the only one who really knows you. He knows your darkness.

Are you the only one who really knows him, too?

Your phone dings with a text. It’s a political campaign, but you take the opportunity to re-read:

I’ll split your ass like a tangerine.

It gives you butterflies. It sounds like him. It has to be him. That’s the only thing that helps you relax.

(Some hours and a nap later. . .)

"What would you do if you had Ghostface cornered," Javi asks, sitting back and manspreading next to you on your sofa. He's nursing a Mike's Hard Lemonade from a case he brought and crammed into your fridge, pushing aside expired condiments and old takeout containers.

You should never have let Officer Javi in when he knocked on your door. “Heard ya had a rough day,” he had remarked. “Pulled over?” he raised his eyebrows. There was something about him that made you uneasy, but you didn’t feel like you had a choice, so you opened the door.

It was impossible to miss the way he sniffed the air after crossing the threshold. You imagined he was smelling the cum of Ghostface and amateur Ghostface, even two days and several showers later.

Pulling yourself back into the moment at hand – Javi’s question isn’t easy – what would you do if you had Ghostface cornered? What would a normal person do?

You ask, "if I had him cornered?"

"What, you wouldn't do anything?" Javi challenges you.

"I wouldn't get within ten feet of him," you claim.

Javi chuckles skeptically. "You wouldn't kill him?"

“No. . . .should I?”

"I think you have it in you,” Javi replies, then drops his voice. “Or you want it in you."

Your heart skips a beat, but you don’t let it go. You challenge him, "What are you talking about?"

"You don't want to be a victim. You're determined not to be."

In a gesture that could pass for reassurance, Javi’s cold, broad hand rests just above your bare knee for a moment. Then he trails his fingers up your thigh, all the way to the hem of your shorts, close to where you’re now tingling.

His voice goes down in pitch and volume. "It's an attractive quality. . . Your lust for control." His face is dark with lust.

You take his hand off your thigh and place it on his own leg.

“See? ” he asks with a condescending twitch of his mustache in the corner of your eye.

"Pervert," you mutter.

"You wouldn't shoot Ghostface with my gun?" Javi glances down at himself. Eyes following his gaze, you do a double take at the shape in his tight pants.

Shame prickles your face, and you swallow as you admit, "Your gun was stolen."

"I know," Javi nods with just the hint of a smile. "It was turned in."

With an air of nonchalance, he takes the gun out of the back of his pants. He subtly rubs the side of the barrel against his hard cock as he pretends to inspect the firearm before setting it on the coffee table. "Now you can shoot him.”

He watches you look at the gun on your coffee table. The one that was buried in your cunt less than 48 hours ago. Javi continues, “But you won't shoot him, will you?"

"No," you agree.

"Don't want him to leave you alone."

"No," you argue, mouth getting dry. “That’s ridiculous.”

"Oh,” Javi seems to be acting. “Too scared to shoot a gun? We'll practice."

“No,” you shake your head, then ask, "How do I know he's the right one? The one who’s cornered?"

"Ah," A smile creeps across his face. "The real Ghostface, and not just some guy in a Stab costume? " He raises an eyebrow.

Over the next few seconds, your face goes ice cold.

"Shhh. It's okay,” Javi rests a hand on your back, then rubs it slowly. “I know, sweetheart.”

He knows what? Is he involved in this somehow? Your question spills out before you can stop it. “What are you getting at? What did you do?”

The large palm on your back slows to a halt between your shoulder blades. Javi pouts in contemplation, looking at the ceiling like he's racking his brain. Another twitch of his mustache. Before meeting your eyes again, he subtly shakes his head, "Nothing," then bends forward, picks up your drink, and hands it to you. He puts his hand on your back again, lazily caressing it with his knuckles this time.

Trying to calm yourself down, you take a sip. He nods encouragingly.

You ask, "Are you even a cop?"

"Yeah, I’m a cop," he laughs.

“Okay, pig. Who’s your supervisor?”

Javi’s eyebrows shoot up. “Ouch! ”

Another sip of your drink.

“Good girl,” he whispers as he watches you swallow. His eyes are right on your throat. The tingle simmers between your legs. Javi’s hand slides up your back to slowly rub the nape of your neck with his thumb and fingers while his hungry eyes scan you head to toe. How hard is he right now? You don’t allow yourself the glance.

“Listen sweetheart,” his tone shifts, “I can’t make this any easier on you.” His thumb gently glides over the peach fuzz on your neck.

“Make what easier?”

Javi’s only acknowledgement of your question is to breathe out a small laugh, then continue, “But I can make it harder.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It’s in your best interest if I keep you company tonight.”

With Javi’s crotch tugging at your peripheral vision, a mild arousal stirs in your gut, but you muster a look of disgust. “Or what?”

“Let’s not find out, ” he threatens.

You scowl and take another sip, catching a flash of satisfaction in his dark eyes. He continues to caress the back of your neck, then says, “Unless you want to find out.”

His thumb freezes right in the dip at the base of your skull. “Maybe I read you wrong. Maybe you do want to be a victim.” He taps his thumb twice and takes his hand away. His dark eyes scan your face as he reaches for the remote control.

Are you paranoid, or does he know something? You no longer trust yourself to see things as they are. You pray he’s just a creep, taking advantage of his assignment to protect you. If he were a worse looking creep, you might be more concerned.

Two hard lemonades later, you’re lying on your side on the couch, watching Rosemary’s Baby with Javi spooning you and lightly caressing your lower abdomen, right at the top of your shorts.

“Are you on birth control? ” he asks, which catches you off guard and makes your face and insides tingle.

“Yeah, gonna put that in your report?” you answer.

“Mm,” he sighs. “Bet you take it real well, too.”

A pool is forming in your panties.

“Same time every day? ” He doesn't wait for an answer before adding, “Even with all this going on? ”

No response from you.

With the softest flick of his thumb, he unbuttons your shorts.

“You really think i’m going to fuck you, don’t you?” you ask as his hand plunges into your panties. At least those are fresh. Or they were.

When Javi’s fingers reach your wetness, he groans softly. “I told you, sweetheart. We can do this the easy way or the hard way.” Rubbing circles over your most sensitive place, he lightly grinds his hardening dick against your backside. The warm pressure of his arousal makes you throb.

This goes on for a minute, then he cruelly slides his hand out of your shorts. He smells his fingers. The crudeness makes you twitch and seethe. A moment later, he’s urgently tugging down your shorts. His forearm vein bulges as he wedges his hand between your legs again. Your knees open for him, you can’t help it. His cock is pressing so hard against your ass, throbbing for you. He’s rubbing you at a steady, desirous rhythm, and your body is helping your mind forget everything.

Need is rushing through your blood. The only thing you can see is a climax in sight. Your insides swell and throb for him. You think about his cock, you want his cock, but no, you’re not going to give a pig that honor. This will have to do.

He breathes heavier, and so do you. Your hips move with his rhythm. Every once in a while, his middle finger goes down and teases your hole as he gathers more slick to bring upward. Then one time, his finger stays at your entrance. He wriggles the tip of his middle digit into you, then plunges it in with a grunt, as far as he can get.

He pumps his finger and grinds his palm against your clit. Your hips begin to rock into his hand. He mutters, “mierda” (shit), to himself as he slides his ring finger in. His thick digits stay buried inside. His cock twitches, and he calms himself, slowing down. A moan slips out of your mouth when you’re on the edge, desperate for release.

“You want this, don’t you? ” he sides an arm under your neck and across your breasts to pull you tight against him. The swell of his cock sends a wave of pleasure upward, through your chest.

“No,” you choke out, but your hips roll into his hand.

“If you want to cum, all you have to do is ask.”

“Fuck you,” you manage between heavy breaths. You’re almost there. Then, you grab his hand and hold it still against your cunt as you send yourself over the edge, grinding against his palm, gasping vocally, spasming against his hand, pathetically trying to hold back your moans.

As it fades, you want more. Of course you want more. But you won’t give him the satisfaction.

You wriggle out of his embrace to sit up and kick your shorts off your ankles.

“I’m going to wash the cop off me,” you mutter in self-disgust.

Javi is bemused. “He doesn’t make you ask, huh? ”

Heat rises to your face. You stand up and don’t even look at him. “Fuck you, Javi,” you mutter.

“Does he even make you cum? ”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” you lie.

Javi stands up, braces his thumbs on his lower back, and pushes his hips forward in a stretch. A spot of precum on his pants draws your eye as he steps forward, his engorged dick straining to get out.

After his stretch, he steps forward. His jaw clenches and his eyes are cold. He takes your jaw in his hand and looks from your lips to your eyes and back. “Everyone’s going to know who I’m talking about if you’re not careful.”

Your stomach drops, but you manage not to show it, you think. “Be gone when I’m out of the shower,” you warn as if you could do anything about it.

“Suit yourself,” he smiles slightly. “This time.” He adjusts himself with his dry hand.

You give him one last glare. Then, your eyes fall to his hand, where he’s inspecting his two wet fingers, glimmering in the low light of the movie credits. His mustache twitches, and he walks in the opposite direction of your front door. You don’t bother redirecting him. You’re just glad he’s leaving when he exits out the back.

In the shower, you start to feel woozy. Did you drink more than you realized, or did Javi slip you something? It could have been either. You end the shower sooner than you otherwise might, wrap yourself in a robe and lay on your bed. Aching to be filled, you think about retrieving a toy from your nightstand, but your sudden fatigue wins over. Not getting off to the thought of Ghostface is a victory, even if it’s on a technicality. Instead, you fall asleep, thinking about the only man you’ve thought about for weeks.

Your dreams are wild.

Ghostface is working at a grocery store, with his mask on. He has a black button down shirt under a long black apron with a name tag that says Daddy. He’s rolling up his sleeves as he walks toward customer service. It feels like he runs the place. He stops in his tracks when he sees you. You stand frozen as he approaches swiftly. He grabs you roughly by the elbow and marches you toward the produce section as if you shouldn’t even be there at the store.

He bends you over a crate of citrus fruit, and a fake thunderstorm booms from a nearby produce cooler as the vegetables get misted.

Standing behind you, holding you down on the fruit with one hand, he kicks your ankles to spread your feet open, exposing your cunt to the cool air. “You couldn't wait, could you?” He asks, hiking up your dress. You aren't wearing anything under it. “Couldn’t wait for Daddy to get home...”

There's a surge of need at the crux of your thighs, and you eagerly await his cock. Instead, what you feel is the cool, taut skin of a lime gliding against your dripping pussy.

He slides the fruit up and down your dripping seam and pauses to grind it against your clit. The man knows what he’s doing. You throb and twitch and sigh as the smooth skin of the lime warms up.

“That’s right, princess.” He wedges your legs further apart, so far apart the stretch burns. Then he resumes his work with the fruit.

One end of the lime teases your entrance, then he pushes it into you. Your body sucks it up with ease and spasms around it.

“Good girl.” His hand remains between your legs, hooking under your body to reach your clit. You whine as he rubs your sweet spot. The lime seems to thrust inside you with each rub of his hand against your front. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt.

He makes you cum on the lime, and with each of your spasms, your body sucks the fruit further into your channel.

As your orgasm fades, Ghostface zip ties your hands over your head, fixing them to the sale sign in the middle of the produce crate. He leaves you with your dress still pulled up, ass and cunt exposed, twitching with aftershocks.

“Please, wait,” You beg him to come back.

Another worker notices you and fails to hide his erection. The man’s face is pink and spellbound. He stands there and rubs himself through his pants. He looks around furtively as he does it, watching you. And you’re a vision — pathetically bent over the fruit, spread wide open, moaning and whining for your man to come back and fuck you raw.

A new sensation eclipses your awareness of the small audience. It begins to feel like the lime is growing in your womb, spreading your insides apart. You're increasingly aroused, feeling less and less control over your body as it swells with desire. You find yourself wishing for anyone to shove himself inside you—staff or customer. If only anyone with a cock would stop and use you. Please, you think to yourself. “Please,” you whimper out loud. You’re desperate to cum again, desperate to relieve all this pressure building in your belly.

An older man approaches, undoing his belt, and he looks you over as he runs his hand over the outline of his erection, deciding what to do with you. He gets close enough to spread your cheeks and examine your cunt. Your hole tremors at his touch, and you whimper. You can feel from the air that you are spread wide open. It feels like you’re going to split at the seam. After examining your parts, the man mutters, “oh,” before deciding against it and walking away.

Your whole torso feels like it could burst with the amount of tension swelling inside you. Your nipples are tight and sensitive, and you feel one of them bare against an orange under your chest. You look down to see your breasts, noticeably swollen, falling out of your dress.

The fruit beneath you begins to dig into your tummy and it hurts. It's too much, paired with the aching need between your legs. You cry out, and the other worker pages the general manager, Ghostface, over the intercom.

When Ghostface returns, he snips your zip ties then roughly flips you over so you're face-up on a big pile of fruit. He ties your hands over your head again, this time using a plastic produce bag.

“Well, look at my pumpkin,” he admires your body as he removes his gloves. Until you see the way his mask seems to stare at your middle, you don’t realize your midriff is exposed. Your dress has ridden up over your belly, which is rounder than before. It feels tight and distended, and you just feel so full. He places both hands on your belly, feeling your shape. When you look down, you hardly recognize yourself. Your nipples are leaking. The one still in your top is creating a wet spot. Your other breast has broken containment completely.

“What did you do to me,” you demand, with Ghostface massaging your belly tenderly.

He groans and reaches up with one hand. Suddenly he clamps his hand over your eyes. The next thing you feel is a mouth sucking at your exposed tit. It feels amazing, all the tension rushing out of your breast, along with the stimulation of his tongue. He breaks away with a moan.

“I knew you'd be delicious.”

So much pressure is built up inside you, you're dying to cum. He holds you by both your sides. You’re painfully spread open, inner thigh muscles aching. He puts himself between your legs. He grinds himself against you, and it makes your walls clench and convulse almost instantly with a groan that echoes.

He pulls his hips back and watches between your legs as you surrender to another orgasm. “Look at you, drizzled all over the fruit,” he marvels as he watches your fluttering hole. With each wave, you feel your belly and breasts swell a little more until you feel and look like you're in your third trimester.

“Please make it stop,” you beg. It feels so good, but you don’t want your body like this.

He rubs at your dripping cunt, his flattened fingers gliding soothingly between your puffy folds. Soon, you're grinding against his hand.

“Please,” you beg. “Take it out, take the lime out.”

“Might be too late, angel.”

“Please try.”

He relents and wedges three fingers together. The fingertips tease your dilated hole, then his three thick digits slide right in, the ease of it making him groan. The obscene squelching practically echoes as he fucks you with three fingers, and soon he adds a fourth. Your body accepts him, and welcomes the addition of his thumb. Soon his hand is reaching deep inside you, fist and forearm flexing as he searches for the lime.

“Daddy’s trying, baby.”

Your body hugs his hand. “Please,” you cry, tears running down your face, from pleasure and pressure more than pain.

“Let me see,” he muses to himself as he withdraws his hand and moves a finger down to your asshole. He teases the rim of it and you feel it open up for him like the rest of your body. Then he slides two dripping fingers in. With his fingers buried in your ass, you feel some relief. You breathe with the rhythm of his fingers, but when you see your belly heaving with each breath, you remember. “Please, please put me back to normal.”

Ghostface sighs. “Are you sure, princess?” His fingers slide out of your asshole.

“Yes,” you insist.

He crouches down, puts your legs over his shoulders, and positions himself with his mask right at your cunt. He rests his dry hand on your belly, and his wet hand grips his mask at the edges.

Just as he goes to take the mask off, the whole scene melts into a moving mosaic of fleeting thoughts.

Everything but the pleasure fades away.

Everything but the pleasure. . . and the feeling of being spread wide open. . . and your legs over someone’s strong shoulders. . .

Yes, there’s a head between your thighs, two strong hands holding you open, and a hungry mouth feasting on you with abandon. He’s grunting into your cunt with his tongue intruding into your deepest places, making your insides hum with need.

Did Javi never leave? It doesn’t exactly sound like Javi. Javi is far too measured to be so—ohh, God, that feels good. It feels so good, you barely notice that you’re blindfolded. Or that your wrists are tied above your head, securing you to the bed frame.

He licks up your cunt to suck at your clit, and he does it well. Fuck. A moan slips out, muffled by something damp and lacy. Your mouth is sore and gagged. Your heart races as he sucks, and your sensitive nub swells with pressure.

You’re still waking up, and your traitorous hips are grinding into his face. You’re close. His hands are on your thighs. You’re on the edge of climax, trying not to make any sound or sudden movements.

When his tongue slips down to your asshole, you flinch. You squirm, but the hands hold you still. His thumbs spread your cheeks, and he licks a wide circle around the rim, getting closer and closer until his tongue is teasing your hole.

Your nose twitches. You sniff the air, and breathe a shameful sigh of relief. It’s not Javi. It’s him. Thank God, it’s him. And it smells like he smoked in your room.

Ghostface pauses to mutter, “Good girl,” and the voice comes from between your legs, and from your right, as though he’s separated from the voice changer.

And separated from his mask. Wow. You never thought he’d— his warm mouth returns to your ass, and he thrusts his tongue into you. A pit in your gut deepens with each thrust of his tongue. Your eyelashes flutter against the folded bandana that covers your eyes.

You grunt and whine into the gag, then he begins to rub your clit while his tongue is buried in your ass. Before long, the tension snaps, and your vision goes from black to white. A muffled moan marks the start of your peak. His tongue slides out, and your body jerks with each spasm.

“Attagirl,” you hear from both directions.

As you finish coming, he lays a cheek on one thigh and a hand on the other, stroking your skin with his thumb.

“You were on a silver platter, princess. I had to take a bite.” Your nipples harden—you’re naked and your sweat is cooling. “You know how it is.” You don’t try to respond. “Had a feeling you wouldn’t mind,” he taunts. “And ohhh, Pumpkin. We’ve been having *fun*.”

Can’t exactly ask what he’s been up to with a mouth full of your own panties. But you wriggle and groan in disapproval. His face lifts off your thigh, and his hands are quick to hold you down and keep you still.

“Yeah, yeah,” he acknowledges your halfhearted effort, and you stop resisting. The fact that you both see through this charade puts you more at ease somehow.

When you feel his breath on your hip, it’s clear he’s not done, and you’re not mad about it. You’re in a daze—Ghostface is in your room, unmasked. Between your legs.

His teeth press into your skin, then his lips. He sucks hard, then harder, and the bruising suction makes you throb. You grunt into the panty gag. He releases your skin, then drags his lips to your mound.

He licks up your mound and presses wet, hungry, open-mouth kisses along your exposed torso, licking upward between each kiss, all the way to your breast where he pauses to suck and moan into it. You whine into the gag as your nipple hardens in his mouth and you gush and throb.

He drags his tongue up your chest, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The closer his head gets to yours, the more clearly you can smell him - his unique blend of pheromones, his sweat, the way it mixes with the weed.

And then it slaps against you. His cock. Smooth, and warm, and hard against your hip, and your chest swarms with butterflies. You moan softly. His face is in the crook of your neck. He latches on for a suck and the dull pain makes your hips lift, seeking more of his cock. You feel an emptiness, a longing to be filled.

His bare face nuzzles at your jaw. He drags his lips up your chin, to your cheek, to your ear.

“Shhh,” he whispers, despite your silence.

His lips slowly drag toward your mouth, dragging along the gag. With his mouth on your cheek, your lips tingle with an urge. And then he gets there. His mouth lingers, open against yours, his breath, hot and humid, enveloping your lips. His teeth scrape the corner of your mouth. He bites down on the gag while one hand fiddles behind you to untie it. His cock, now on your mound, swells harder against you and Good God, you need him bad.

With a backward nod, he tugs at the panty gag, then lets it fall away with a vocal exhale, thrusting his stiff manhood against you. The loss of his lips on your face resembles heartache.

Barely above a whisper, you ask, “what are you doing?” and brace to hear his real voice.

Instead, his hand seizes your jaw, forcing your mouth wider open. And then he spits in your mouth. You taste it as it slides down your tongue, down your throat, and desire stirs in your gut.

He releases your jaw. “Daddy needs to hear ya, princess.” He mutters breathily, and it echoes from your right, “Daddy needs to hear you, princess.”

You pull your knees up. He braces a hand behind you against the wall and grinds his stiff manhood against your slick mound. “Fuck,” he whispers, with no digital echo. Then, in both voices, “You want this. . . Don’t you, pumpkin?” He grinds against you, harder. “You want Daddy’s big cock,” he confirms, and you can imagine him nodding.

“Yeah,” you admit in a whisper.

“Oh, yeah,” he replies. The slow, throbbing grind of his warm cock is devastating so close to where you need it.

“Please,” you ask.

“Please what?” he replies.

“Please,” your chest tingles, “Please, Daddy.”

“Uh-huh,” he thrusts against you nice and slow. So stiff and warm.

“Fuck me, Daddy,” you plead.

He pulls his hips back, letting his cock slide and drop to where his tip notches at your entrance. “Who’s gonna fuck you?”

“You are, Daddy.”

“Yeah, that’s my girl.” His tip pushes into your yearning cunt.

“Please, Daddy.”

“That’s right,” his tone sharpens as he abruptly shoves his length into you, pushing your slick walls apart. He shudders as he bottoms out. There’s a tingling burn in the stretch, but it quickly fades as your body gives way to the intrusion. And then, the overwhelming feeling is fullness and need for friction.

His hips pull back, and your legs wrap around him, begging him all the way back inside. He slams into you, and you grunt with the impact as his flesh fills yours again. “Good girl,” he praises. His cock — How did you ever mistake another man for him? He slams in again, making you whole.

As he fucks you, your thighs tremble, and you whimper, “Daddy,” drawing a groan from him.

He rails in, and slides almost all the way out. Each time, your cunt is pulling at him, begging him back in.

“Whose little slut are you? ” He asks, his thrusts becoming sharper.

“Yours, Daddy.”

A bead of sweat hits your sternum, then your forehead.

“That's my girl,” you hear in surround sound.

A salty drop falls into your mouth.

“Daddy’s little slut,” he breathes, “can really take a cock,” and the voice changer catches the last half.

He hovers his body lower, closer to yours. A thick steam condenses between you as he pounds you unforgivingly, even from the closer angle. Your chest, your whole torso, you’re all dewy with heat. And his skin, it’s so close, you want to feel it. You neeeed to feel it.

“Fuck,” you whisper.

Yearning to put your hand on his chest, you try to wriggle out of the rope and your wrists begin to burn. Your breasts jiggle and jut into the air with the effort. His chest grazes your tits, and you gasp with the pleasure that seizes your tummy.

You take a deep breath through your nose, drowning yourself in his masculine scent and the weed that hangs in the air.

He thrusts sharply and stays all the way in, grinding against you. His chest grazes yours again as he brings his mouth to your ear, and feeling his breath makes you weak. “Cum for Daddy,” he whispers, and his lips graze your temple with another thrust. He raises his volume, catching the modulator. “Cum on this cock, princess.”

“Mmm,” You bite your lip and whimper.

“One more for Daddy.” His thick, hard manhood drags heavily through your tight, wet channel, then he grinds again after bottoming out. His pubic bone is nudging your front just right.

“Mmgh,” you whimper, “Daddy,” and the pressure bursts. You whine, overtaken by your rhythmic release, hips lifting into him. His heavy breaths seem to echo to the beat of your climax.

“Fuck yeah,” he breathes, fucking you through it. “Ohhh,” he thrusts sharply and shudders as he begins to pulse. Your spasming cunt milks his cock. Your heels dig into his back.

He shoots a thick, hot rope deep into your cunt, and with a slow thrust, another one. Then his cock cruelly slides out. Your heart falls, and your legs reflexively tighten around him. You whine, “no,” with your desperate cunt grabbing at nothing.

But it's only a split second before his dripping wet cock shoves into your ass. It’s just in time to pulse again as his girth spreads you open and he claims another hole. “Yeah,” He bottoms out and your whole body heats up. In surround sound, you hear, “Hell yeah.”

He groans as he pulses, and over a few more beats and moans, the rest of his hot seed floods your guts. Each twitch of his shaft makes you shudder. You let yourself get lost in the warmth.

He breathes vocally as he finishes. Then his nose grazes yours ever so briefly, and you bite your lip. As he slides out of your ass, his breath is humid on your cheek and the corner of your mouth. When his face pulls away, your face feels cold.

He reaches toward the corner of your bed. Then you hear him rustling around as he puts his mask back on.

“Untie me,” you beg. He gets off the bed. More rustling. When he comes back, you feel his pj pants graze your bare skin and you’re offended.

He lightly braces a hand on your shoulder as he gets closer to where your hands are tied. The cool metal of his blade hits your palm and gives you a chill. The flat of the knife presses into your skin as he slices part of the rope and it loosens. You free your hands and bring them in front of you to caress the burn marks from your attempts to free yourself. He gets off your bed again.

“You had company tonight,” he remarks.

“Uninvited,” you clarify.

“Ohhhh. *Uninvited*,” he taunts with skepticism. The location of his voice has changed—he’s pacing.

“Jealous?” You ask.

“No,” he replies. “Want him to bleed out anyway? ”

“Yeah,” you answer.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“He’s not a good guy,” you offer.

“Oh, princess. If he was a good guy, you wouldn’t let him in your pants. . .Wouldn't give it up that easy.”

“I didn’t–what–If you were here, why didn't you do anything?”

“Oh, I did a lot. Just not to him.”

“How long have you been here?”

He ignores the question. “Tell me, princess. Why would Prince Charming knock you out, and then just. . . leave?”

“I dunno,” you mumble. “But I'm glad he left.”

“Cause he got what he wanted,” Ghostface answers his own question.

“He didn't even cum”

“Oh, that's not it, princess.”

“How would you know?”

“Think, Pumpkin.”

You’ve got nothing.

“There’s gotta be one brain cell left.” He sits down on the bed to put on his shoes.

“You're not gonna tell me?”

He stands up. You hear the woosh of his robe as he puts it on and walks away.

“Wait,” you protest. But he doesn't say a word. His footsteps recede, and you tug the blindfold down to see his robe trailing behind him toward the back door.

“Asshole,” you mutter to yourself.

When you go to the bathroom, cum is leaking out of both holes, which shouldn’t surprise you. After cleaning up, you get back in bed and keep the blindfold with you. It’s faded green, stiff with sweat. You sniff it. His sweat. Your chest feels light with forbidden affection.

Then you’re back to thinking about the question he left you with.

What did Javi want? You push through the shame and replay it all in your head. And then, you see the way he held his wet fingers so carefully as he left, not letting them get contaminated. And it makes your stomach drop. He might be trying to do his job, after all. It unsettles you and keeps you up.

You curl up under the covers, hugging a pillow. The bandana is wrapped around your hand, pressed against your nose and lips. The scent is comforting. You dart your tongue out for a taste, and find even more comfort in the salty tang. Then ,you take a wrinkled corner of it between your teeth. Your lips wrap around the cloth, and your body finally relaxes fully. You drift off suckling at his sweat.

April 2025 note: If you enjoyed this part, especially the dream, and you also liked the original Every Inch, you might like my new Michael Myers one shot Wreck.

Thank you for reading! PLEASE READ THIS NOTE

Thank you for being here and sticking with me. I value each one of you. I can't overstate how much your comments and reblogs really help and motivate me. Your asks, too. I love knowing what you enjoyed most.

When people simply demand the next one (ignoring my comments about this at the end of the fic, on the fic masterlist, and in my pinned post) without saying anything about the one they just read, it does NOT make me write any faster or prioritize this story. It's actually pretty demoralizing. I work hard on these and if the only thing Im gonna hear after the next one is NEXT/MORE, what kind of incentive is that for me to do the next one? I'm glad you're excited but acknowledging what you just read is a more beneficial way of expressing it, from the writer's perspective. Please ❤️

As for what's next - no promises, no time estimates.

#ghostface x reader #javier pena x reader #dark!javier peña #ghostface #ghostface ☠️#every inch ☠️#toxicanonymity ☠️#slasher fanfiction #slasher smut #ghost face #scream fanfic #dubcon cw #danny johnson x reader #ghostface fic #ghostface smut #mickey altieri smut #billy loomis smut #ethan landry smut #stu macher smut

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