#going to get it next week when its cold again

[bnuuys-writing]

Naga!Jamil x Reader x Roc!Kalim

Omg hiiii, its been a while everyone since i wrote something but here's the first part to something that's been pecking my brain for a while! Sorry its not the update for Vil's Moving Castle, i think im going to scrap it and rewrite it when I have more time.

This is only the FIRST part! I plan on writing a second part whenever i have free time again. Ive been picking away at this for a few weeks now. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

~BnuuyOut!

Well. This isn't how you imagined you'd die. Being cornered by a larger snake-like creature to where there was no escape in sight unless you'd like to jump straight into his fangs…

Let's start this over again, how did you even get in this situation again?

The weather was warm as you entered the freezing cold building. A weird zoo-like research laboratory where you were under contract to work for free because of how gracious your professor was… Ass… You sighed slightly as you tugged on the free lab coat that your professor offered to you that had holes in every pocket, and was that… Dried stains of spaghetti sauce? Ugh. Shaking your head slightly as you made your way to the cafeteria and quietly sat down near the back, waiting to see if this is something you'd have to leave immediately and never return back to, free or not. Minutes passed as others started to file into the room, chitter chatter filling up the room only for a certain crack of a whip to silence the audience within seconds.

“Welcome pups, to your first hybrid meeting of how to be a caretaker!” A man walked out, two dalmatians hounding at each side of him as two others seemed to wheel in cages covered with curtains.

“For those who don't know what you signed up for, which is absolutely idiotic if you didn't read the full internship form, this is a place where we find the extraordinary creatures, house them, and research them before safely releasing them back from whence they came!” The man had a puffy black and white coat, fur lined it seemed from your assumptions as it was just as beautiful as his personality. Rough.

“For those who do not know me! I am your new Professor, your new internship coworker. But more like your boss. If I find out one of you pups messed up something with what is mine, you will be expelled immediately.” Another crack of the whip caused some to flinch at the sound as he continued to ramble on. Yet, your gaze trailed off of him to the cages where you could've sworn you heard something rattling… Like a rattle maybe? Lowering your head just slightly in hopes of catching a small peek, you could only feel yourself tense up in your seat when you saw a glow of slitted eyes shine back at you for just a second. As for what was underneath the curtain, you couldn't figure out just yet. 

Though, snapping your gaze back to your new professor, he continued to speak about how all the students will be assigned to areas that, if they are lucky, will like. If not, they are more than happy to drop out, as for volunteering for a section? It will be all yours, if not with some partners will be either voluntold to join. A large shake at the cage on the left caused everyone to jump in their seats as Professor Crewel seemed to snicker at everyones reactions to the rattling cage. 

“This is our Roc, a creature that hunts over the seas, capturing up sailors from their ships and being able to lift up an elephant in its adult years. Though this one is smaller, only for containment reasons, its adult size was a little harder to capture yet, this one seemed to fit into the snare just like a glove.” Crewel states out as he ripped off the curtain of the cage, a large looking hybrid of a man and a bird, with white dazzling feathers and hair seeming to coat its body. Although it was impressively large, it didn't seem all too aggressive towards everyone, seeming all too delighted in seeing the new faces… Unless you were wrong and it was just looking at who was going to be its next snack. A louder hiss could be heard as Crewel stepped closer to the cage holding what was so called a ‘Roc’ only for the man to seem a big smug at the reaction.

“Now, before anyone can start placing bids on who wants to work with our Roc here, you must come to learn that this Roc comes with another. Although, he is always in a sour mood, they seem to be in some sort of a pact of service to each other. While one leaves peacefully and unbothered, this–” Nothing could stop the gasps of students as the curtain was ripped off of the second cage only for a very, very, pissed looking snake like creature to be staring right at Crewel, its tail flicking with its rattle to try and scare off the Professor. 

“--Creature, comes with it. This is a Naga, and as for its design and pattern, they come together in a pair. So! Who is willing to work with our Roc and Naga?” Professor Crewel stated as the naga creature seemed to turn its body towards the crowd and hiss violently, venom spitting out from its large fangs and dripping down the metal bars of its enclosure, causing it to steam just slightly. 

Silence filled the room. So quiet that you swore, you could almost hear a pin drop within the auditorium. 

“No offers? Our Roc seemed very well trained, and always seems excited to have new fresh blood in the enclosure with him. You’ll just have to try your luck in not getting stuck with our Naga here while you are around the Roc.” Crewel hummed out only for his gaze to land upon you. The only one not diverting your gaze from him. While the other students seemed to look upon the walls with such wonder, some already leaving the auditorium and dropping out from the course, and others seemingly looking sick as they looked upon the angry looking Naga with fear. 

“Ah, you. With the (H/C) and stained labcoat.” Fuck you Crewel. Slowly standing up, dread filling your heart as you heard some others around you, whispering thanks for not being chosen to be their handlers.

“I see great promise with you with these two…” Crewel hummed out with a smirk, as he nodded his head. Oh, how wonderful.

A month had passed since that moment in the auditorium, you had teammates until they all dropped out one by one as they learned more and more about the Roc and Naga together. It seemed from what the researchers had learned about them is that when the Roc lay their eggs and have to go hunting across the seas to pickup sailors for their meals, the nagas were left behind to obey and serve the children until their parents came back. Then came the story on how they captured the Roc and Naga here in the building. The Roc children has been learning how to fly, and the Naga had to follow their every movement so that they wouldn't become the next meal for them. Apparently the Roc in captivity fell from the sky right into the trap, and the Naga has been trying to free him when they were found only for both of them to get sedated and brought back to the research facility.

After observing how handlers dealt with them as well, you began to learn their patterns in making sure that you wont die once you step foot into the enclosure… Like today.

“Alright pup, go ahead on in there, and feed them. Remember, don't look the Naga in his eye, and try to stay over foliage so that the Roc doesn't scoop you up where you stand. Put everything we taught you into action.” And with a crude shove and a loud bang. Professor Crewel really was cruel in some ways, you supposed… Shoving you into the enclosure and shutting the door tight. 

Nevertheless. You were now in the warm enclosure. Alone. Minus two pairs of hungry eyes watching your every movement.

You were careful in your step, making sure to stay under the treeline and foliage in hopes of not getting swooped up by the large bird man. As well avoiding any droppings or anything that you might've mistaken as a snake tail. Buckets in each hand as you traversed the area smoothly, making sure to count your steps just in case you had to make a run for the door and memorizing where you were… Just in case…

You could see their food bowl essentially, a large stone carved into a bowl-like structure with a flowing manmade river for them to get fresh water. The only downfall was that the tree that usually hung over the bowl had fallen due to a storm a few days prior… So your only guardrail was missing. And these guys were hungry… 

“Alright.. You can do this… Show no fear and they'll have no reason to hurt you… Have confidence in your steps…” You whispered to yourself as you took a shaky step forward into the light of the day, no longer under the shady canopy protecting you from the Roc. With another step, you were getting closer and closer to the food bowl without any issues. Just as you neared closer and closer, movement in the corner of your eye was caught as you couldn't help but turn around just slightly… Ever so slowly in hopes of not pissing off whatever was there. 

Slitted eyes bore right into your eyes as you could feel the entrancing pull once again. Slowly, the world around you began to grow darker and darker, all you could see were these entrancing eyes, almost as if beckoning you closer with how they memorized you. Taking slow steps forward, a crack of a tree branch sounded way too close to you as this seemed to snap you out of whatever hypnotism the naga was performing on you. Taking a large intake of breath as you averted your eyes away from the snake man, only to throw it up to see a grinning feathery face a little too close to yours.

A hiss is what snapped you out from your trance from looking at the Roc creature. Shit. Without a second to spare, you ducked back under the foliage as you could feel your heartbeat pounding against your chest as your feet thudded against the ground roughly in hopes of retracing your steps. Yet, in your adrenaline flurry rush, you found yourself in a corner against one of the rocky mountains. Turning around to try and find another escape, you were met face to face with a very angry looking reptilian man. The naga, fuck.

Back pinned against the rocky surface, you could feel the forked tongue flicking out against your cheek as you avoided looking in his eyes at all cost, knowing it would cause certain death. 

Well, either way. This isn't how you'd expect how you'd die.

You could feel the hot breath ever looming closer and closer to you. Yep, even with those buckets of food, you know snakes prefer live meals… Meals that still has their blood pumping with adrenaline as they know they are being hunted down. As you felt death looming close to your neck, inching ever closer before a loud thump could be heard overhead as you were suddenly lifted up by two arms… Two feathery arms.

Blinking your eyes open, looking at the height you are being held over. The Roc, having lifted you up into his arms as he had landed on the mountain. The naga, seeming pissed as the Roc has just taken his meal, began to hiss loudly which… Sllliiggttllyy? Sounded like some type of serpent tongue?

Gripping onto the arms of the Roc, he began to chirp quite loudly into your ear as he squeezed you even tighter in his arms, a bright large smile on his face as his ruby eyes were looking down at the brown eyed naga… So his eyes weren't red, maybe that's when he was trying to hypnotize his prey..? This all seemed too much as you could feel yourself losing precious air by how tight the roc was holding you in his feathered arms. In your losing state of consciousness, you could've sworn you could understand them for just a second.

“Kalim! You know better than to snatch prey from me! That was supposed to be OUR meal!”

“But Jammiillll! They were just so cute, I couldn't just let you kill them!! You should've seen how surprised they were to see me up so close!”

“It doesn't matter, Kalim. Drop them before you get seriously hurt. They don't take too kindly to you holding our feeders.” 

As your mind slowly slipped into a state of consciousness, you could've sworn you heard a yell of Professor Crewel as you're lifted up into the air where sleep took you quickly in your state.

[gmalaart]

Parabola changes. It is in its nature. It changes when you least expect it to, when you least want it to, but there are some things one can rely on, even in such a mutable land. One such thing, Emon has learnt, is that there are places where entering Parabola is easier, where the boundary between Is and Is-Not becomes soft and malleable. There are mirrors, of course, but sometimes bodies of water can also become passageways if everything lines up as it should. These passages are not as reliable as still surfaces, and perhaps for this very reason they are much more powerful, dragging dreams and memories and emotions through their gaping maw. Normally, one would want to avoid such a thing. Unfortunately, Emon doesn't have much choice. They have been walking and swimming and falling through the currents of the zee for what feels like days, weeks, months, with no sight of land. No mirrors here. And now that their desire to return is strong, they start realising that parts of them are fading, drowned out by the memories and dreams all around them. They don't have time to spare. The opening they found will have to do. If only the currents weren't so strong. This is the third day Emon has spent trying to approach the boundary, diving into the depths of memory to reach for the faint light of the fake stars from the Is, but it seems a hopeless effort. They allow themself to rest for a moment on the surface of the reflected zee, staring up at the cosmogone sun. They can feel it pulling them upwards even now. It will only get worse as soon as they dive down below. And yet… They have to try again. With a deep breath that will be useless under the waves, Emon pushes themself down into the cold. There is a light at the bottom of the zee and despite the strain on their limbs, they swim towards it. The first thing that flows past them is sensations brittle salvage under your fingertips / slimy algae touching the bottom of your feet / the warmth of a shared celebratory meal and those are easy to ignore. They push Emon's hair into their face, impairing their vision for a moment, but they're a trifling thing compared to what follows. Words, sentences, impressions of conversations are next thank goodness the fish are / I still think I ought to have had a bigger role in the play / you got WHAT from exchanging some random coral? and that's harder, Emon's curiosity makes them want to linger and listen to those scraps of conversation. Then the currents pick up. The memories push against Emon's limbs like waves crashing against the sides of our creaking fishing boat, dragging us towards the scraggly cliffs and bring them off-course as the light of their objective seems to grow dimmer. Emon grits their teeth, refuses to breathe them in and letting them cloud their mind. They need to swim, they need to push aside the gripping hands of a thousand strangers as they try to grab the fish from the stream and pull it up out of the water, where they can eat it, devour it, they are so hungry. The memories are bad. The dreams, are so much worse. Just when the light grows stronger again, almost within reach now, a wave of hate, so strong it knocks Emon into the rocks at the bottom of the zee, crashes into them. They are surrounded by stars and meteor-rocks cut their clothes and skin as the currents whip them to and fro. Spikes and vows and curses bear into Emon's mind, yelling for them to get out get away go to the surface see the stars again and yet another force pulls them further down towards love too ancient to be understood love willing to give up the light the wind and life itself to be with the shade of what your darling used to be. It's too much. They don't understand. They can never understand how something like this could even exist. They grasp onto the sharp rocks but the skin of their fingers is tearing and their grip is slipping. They will be swept away once again and so will their mind with every new attempt.

aka, Cavendish attempts to escape Parabola during the Fruits of the Zee festival

[alexanderoftirragen]

g-d i love quang minneapolis

[no-mercy-bby]

My mom saying "oh I need to get on that" about a problem I've been having for years🤩

[skunkg1rll]

well... i woke up in time for school. which is the hardest part since it starts at 9am nd i always go to sleep at 4am and wake up around 12-13pm lol. but i got up nd checked when the busses are running.. i checked the weather nd it says it's gnna rain. then i thought "do i rlly need to go today..... cant i go next week?". the thing with me is that if i allow myself to have that thought then it's ruined. if i have the thought of not going, then i wont. thats why i make myself just get up nd go thru the motions nd leave, nd never allowing myself to think that. buuuuut i messed up today... i just wanna stay in bed nd go back to sleep T-T im sitting here "thinking abt it" but the time is already running out nd i dont rlly have time to get up nd get ready now. i dont think i'll get in trouble that i missed this week if i just make sure to go every day next week. ugh

[thegreatbeyondmp3]

bro it sucks so much to have to go to work when you're sick

[intoxicated-chan]

angsty fight between miguel and wife!reader

and then they make up yayayayay

Give Me Reasons We Should Be Complete

✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel has been pushing you away for some time now. After a talk with a friend, you and Miguel try to sort things out.

✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “DANCING IN THE DARK” by Joji. Writing this made me think back on past crushes/lovers. But thank you for your request! I am also holding back on writing smut because it keeps getting labeled and it takes me longer to write.

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 1.4k

✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, angst-to-fluff, swearing, Miguel is kinda a dick head, mentions of sleep deprivation…

Want more Miguel content? Check out my MASTERLIST!

You stood in his cold and dark office. The best source of light was his laptop but his huge frame blocked most of the light. You managed around the crumbled paper and thrown desk objects with a plate in hand.

“Miguel?” You peer over his shoulder, “I made you dinner.”

He nods.

“You know you haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

He nods again.

“And you know that you’ve been here for a long time. I think it’s best for you to-”

“Take a break?” Miguel interrupts you, “I don’t have time for that.”

“Miguel, I’m sure whatever it is, it can wait a few minutes. All I’m asking is for you to eat something.” You try to set the plate down.

“I thought I made it clear that I do not want to be bothered. You’re distracting me. Leave.”

He didn’t mean it like that… He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that…

“But Mig-”

“I said go.” He growls, his eyes turning its blood red from anger, “You’re becoming a nuisance.”

He didn’t mean it like that.

“Okay.” You tried not to let the crack in your voice show. You didn’t even bother to leave the plate behind because you knew it was going to be wasted.

“And don’t bother me again.” You heard him say as you left his office.

You took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down before you burst into tears. But your hands shook, nearly dropping the plate.

You choked down your sobs and let your tears fall, the plate was left in the fridge, and you pushed yourself to your bedroom. It was basically yours now since Miguel was sleeping in his office.

The sheets no longer lingered on his cologne and any sign of his presence was gone, other than his clothing and a few photos. The room has become a mess of discarded clothing, old plates and cups, and candy wrappers.

How long has it been since Miguel showed affection? Or even looked at you?

This was normal behavior for Miguel, right? You should know, you’re married to him. You’re his wife. But he experienced loss, unlike you. You didn’t want to judge him for how he deals with his emotions, he’s emotionally distant. You knew that from the start.

And because of this, you felt like he deserved more than what you could give him. It’s what kept you going through the many times Miguel tore your heart, how it squeezed in pain at his actions and words. How you look the other way and ignore his hurtful words.

You couldn’t sleep. You left the still cold bed and dressed in something warm and headed up to the roof.

You sat on the edge, looking at Nueva York. How beautiful it looked during the night, which is one of the reasons why you liked sitting up here.

“Sitting all by yourself?” You tense up only to relax when you know that voice, “At this time? All alone?” Peter B. lands next to you, his daughter in his arms.

“I would ask my husband to join me but he’s too busy.” You respond truthfully.

“Again? He’s been at this all week.” He sits next to you.

“Yeah.” You huff.

“And… how are you holding up?”

“I’m fine.”

“Really? Because it doesn’t look like it.” He offers Mayday who reaches out to you.

You take her and set her down on your lap, “I just don’t know what to do, everything I do seems to bother Miguel. Checking up on him, bringing him food. It feels like he’s doing this on purpose.”

“Miguel’s always been difficult and from the time I spent with him… He’s different, not like the rest of us. He’s accepted his fate as Spider-Man and believes he’s destined for bad things 24/7. But good things do come along, like you. I think… I think he’s trying to come to terms that he can get it because he deserves it.”

Mayday coos, pulling at your hair, “And I think Miguel is scared. He puts on his tough act because he has to, yet he’s afraid to admit he’s scared. Normally, people would’ve given up on him. Why haven’t you?

“Till death do us part. I don’t want to lose him. I don’t give up on him because when you love someone, you love them every single day as who they are.”

“Talk about romantic.”

“Oh please.” You look down at Mayday, “Plus I think-”

“There you are.” You jump and this time, you remain tense, “I was looking for you.”

“Now you’re looking for me?” You respond, refusing to turn your head.

“It’s late, (Y/n). It’s dangerous.”

“I’m here, she’s alright.” Mayday jumps into her father’s arms.

“I’ve already had enough of you. Please, (Y/n).”

“It’s fine.” You tell him, following Miguel inside.

You head to the bedroom, “Where are you going?”

“Bed.”

“(Y/n)-”

“I’m tired and I do not want to be bothered. That includes you too, Miguel.”

“Excuse me?” He follows you into the bedroom.

“You heard me.”

“Please, (Y/n), talk to me.” Miguel begs.

“I’m sorry, did you just say talk? Like I have been trying to do for the past week?”

“(Y/n)-”

“You know what? No, no. You do not get to try to get me to talk after all of this. I have been trying, I have been all in. All I asked of you was to look after yourself.”

“I know.”

“You know? You KNOW?” You scoff rather loudly, “Did you know that Lyla has even talked to me about your behavior? I’m worried about you Miguel. All the damn time, even more when I see you not eating and staying up all night. All I ask is one minute, one bite of the damn food.”

“I’m… I’m so sorry.”

“Is sorry all you have to say? Not even a half assed excuse?” You see Miguel trying to form a sentence but nothing leaves his left and his head hangs low, “I need to be alone.”

You walk past him but he grabs your arm, “Please don’t leave.” He says, “Please don’t walk out that door.”

“I’m sleeping on the couch, you could have the bed.” You look up at him.

“I love you, (Y/n). I know I don’t say it as much but I fucking love you. He’s right, you know. I am scared. Scared of everything. Because at first, I didn’t think I could have that, have you. You let me hurt you and that is unforgivable.”

He’s crying. Looking right at you, letting himself be bare right in front of you. His grip on your arm loosens and his hands come up to your face, cupping your cheeks. You could hear his staggered breathing, trying to keep himself composed.

“But I wasn’t lying when I said I love you, I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted a family, and I wasn’t lying when I said that you make me believe in love.”

“I’m always here for you, Miguel. You don’t have to go through things alone, but when you want to, I’m here.” You take one of his hands into yours, pulling it away from your face but keeping a tight hold on it.

“It’s not that easy. I hurt you, I understand why you don’t want to.”

“I love you, Miguel. We’ll work on this. I promise you.” After a moment, Miguel practically tackles you, nearly falling to the ground. The hug is tight and warm, and you could feel your shirt become wet with Miguel’s tears.

“You’re okay, right?” His voice cracks as he speaks through his sobs, “Please tell me you’re okay.”

“I promise you, I am okay.” You whisper.

“I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“You can start by getting some rest. But you’ve got a lot of apologies O’Hara.”

You don’t know how long you and Miguel stayed like this, nor did you care. All you cared about was Miguel and he felt complete at last.

© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform with permission.

[d1stalker]

The Feeling's Mutual | Part One

[Logan Howlett x Mutant!Reader]

Summary: If somebody told you a week ago that you were a mutant, being stalked, and would be teaming up with an annoying, grumbly bastard, you probably would have laughed in their face. Too bad that was last week, because here you are, in that very situation, wondering how in the world things escalated so quickly.

PART TWO PART THREE FINAL PART

Warnings: fem!reader, canon-level violence, reluctant alliance, bickering, not exactly enemies-to-lovers but they don't rly get along, it's gonna be a slow burn y'all WC: 5.7k - MASTERLIST - A/N: If you saw me post this earlier, no you didn't 🤫 i added more hehe

You’ve never been so confused in your entire life.

It all started last week—when you were walking to the grocery store. Just an ordinary day, nothing special about it. You had a list in your hand, some cash in your pocket, and thoughts of what to cook for dinner running through your mind. The route you took had you winding down the usual streets of your neighbourhood, and that’s when you noticed him.

Something about him was different, but you couldn’t quite place your finger on what it was that made you think that. Perhaps it was the way his eyes followed you, stalking you, like a predator its prey.

At first, you thought it might be a coincidence. Maybe he was just another person going about his day, heading in the same direction as you. People share paths all the time; there was no reason to suspect anything sinister, right? But as you continued walking, a nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach told you something was off. You decided to test it, making a sudden turn down a side street, one you usually never take.

The street was quieter, less foot traffic, and the late afternoon shadows were starting to stretch across the pavement. You glanced over your shoulder, and there he was, still a few steps behind, his gaze remaining locked onto you with a focus that sent a shiver down your spine. Quickening your pace, you felt an almost paralyzing fear.

This wasn’t just a shared route. 

The more you turned, the more you weaved through unfamiliar streets, the more persistent he became. He never faltered, never hesitated, always keeping just close enough to let you know he was there.

Finally, you reached the store, breathing in short, panicked gasps, your eyes flitting around. You ducked inside, hiding the fluorescent lights and bustling aisles. You tried to calm yourself, telling yourself it was nothing, that you were being paranoid. After all, what were the odds? Maybe he’d walk past, maybe he wasn’t even following you. You spent longer than usual picking up items you didn’t need, giving him time to disappear. 

But when you walked back outside, bags in hand, you saw him again. He wasn’t right at the door, but still, close enough—across the street, half-hidden in the shadow of another building, watching. His eyes locked with yours once more, and you froze, the plastic handles of the grocery bags digging into your palms as your grip tightened in fear. He didn’t move, didn’t smile or sneer, just stood there, silent.

You rushed home, not even bothering to see if he was tracking you down, too scared to find out the answer. Your mind was racing with a million thoughts. Who was he? What did he want? You didn’t sleep much that night, jumping at every creak and groan the apartment made, the image of that man’s cold stare burned into your mind.

The next day, you told yourself it was nothing, a one-time thing, just some creep who had too much time on his hands. A pervert, possibly. 

But happened again. A different man this time, but with the same unnerving intensity. He followed you the same way, mute and relentless, through the streets, to the store, and back home.

Then the day after that, and that, and that. They didn’t approach you directly, just followed, watched, waited. It was like a game, one that you didn’t know the rules to, and the stakes felt like they were getting higher and higher and more time passed. Whenever you stepped outside, you felt their eyes on you, felt their presence lurking just out of sight. It was terrifying.

The fear gnawed at you, growing with each passing day, until it became impossible to ignore. You started taking different routes, avoiding your usual stores, changing your routine as much as you could. Still, no matter what you did, they always found you.

Soon it changed—no longer just silent stalking. One night, as you were walking home, one of the men stepped out from the shadows and blocked your path. His presence was oppressive, the way he stood there, so still, so certain of his power over you. You had no idea what he wanted, but you knew it whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

“Why are you following me?” you demanded, trying to muster up all the courage you could, voice shaking slightly despite your attempt to sound strong.

“Because we were told to,” the man said, his voice cold and emotionless. There was no malice, no pleasure in his words, just a chilling matter-of-factness. “You’re coming with us.”

Panic surged through you, a primal instinct to run, to fight, to do anything but comply. You refused to show it, refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing your fear. 

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you spat back, hoping your defiance would be enough to make him reconsider.

His eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing in them, and before you could react, he lunged at you, his fist swinging with brutal intent. Time seemed to slow as you saw the blow coming, your mind racing, but your body moving almost on instinct. You raised your arms to defend yourself, bracing for the crushing impact that would follow.

You couldn’t explain what happened next. When his fist connected with your arm, the force that should have sent you to the ground, left you unscathed. Instead, it was the man who staggered back, a look of shock and pain twisting his features. He clutched his hand, wincing as if he had struck something far harder than just flesh and bone.

You stared at him, bewildered, before glancing down at your own arm in disbelief. There was no pain, no bruise, nothing to indicate that you’d just been hit. It was as if his attack had bounced off of you, like you were made of steel.

Had you really just blocked that hit? And why did it feel like… nothing?

Before you could process what had happened, before the realization could fully take root, another man appeared out of nowhere, moving with a speed that blurred the edges of his form. Mutant. He was faster than the first, more determined, and this time, you felt your heart stop as he came at you from behind, his hands outstretched to grab you.

But something in you reacted faster than your fear. You twisted out of his grip with lightning speed, with movements so fluid and precise, it was as if your body knew exactly what to do, even if your brain was struggling to keep up. You sidestepped his attack, narrowly avoiding his grasp, and found yourself behind him, safe for the moment.

“What the hell?” you muttered under your breath, your heart pounding in your chest. How did you move like that? How had you known where to go, how to dodge?

There was no time to dwell on it. The fight intensified in an instant, the two men coming at you one after another, relentless in their assault. They weren’t holding back, and suddenly neither were you. You moved like a force of nature, dodging their attacks, striking back when you could. Each punch you threw landed with a power that surprised even you. You watched in stunned disbelief as one of the men crumpled to the ground after a single blow, his eyes rolling back as if he’d been hit by a truck.

You are not a gym regular. In fact, you hadn’t worked out in weeks. You weren’t strong, not like this. So how was it possible that your punches were so devastating, that each one seemed to carry a weight far beyond what you’d ever imagined?

Then, with a flick of his wrist, the first mutant, conjured a ball of fire in his hand, the flames crackling and roaring, craving something to burn. He hurled it at you, the fireball spinning through the air with only one target in mind. 

You barely had time to scream as the flames engulfed your arm, the searing heat burning through your skin. The pain was unbearable, a white-hot agony that made you gasp and stumble back. You expected to see your skin blackened, blistered, ruined.

And it was.

For a minute. 

To your shock—or horror—you looked down, breath catching in your throat as you watched the burn heal right before your eyes. The charred skin knitted back together in seconds, smooth and unblemished, as if nothing had happened at all.

What the fuck? 

It was in that moment that the truth hit you, like a thunderclap in your mind. You weren’t just an ordinary person caught in a nightmare. You were a mutant, with powers that had only now revealed themselves, right when you needed them most.

The men kept coming, but now you fought with a new understanding. Each punch, each dodge, each rapid movement felt more controlled, more intentional, your gym class self-defence courses coming in clutch. You were strong, faster than you’d ever been, and you could heal—regenerate from injuries that would have left others incapacitated.

Finally, the two men laid groaning on the ground, defeated. You stood there, panting, your mind spinning as you tried to make sense of it all. Super strength, super speed, regeneration… these powers, they were yours. And they had just saved your life.

But as the adrenaline began to fade, confusion set in. What did these men want with you? Why had they gone to such lengths to provoke you? To make you discover what you were capable of? 

All you knew was that one thing was clear: this was far from over. Whoever had sent these men wouldn’t stop here. They knew what you were now, and that meant they’d come after you again. You weren’t just an ordinary person anymore. You were something else, something powerful. And that put a target on your back. 

Whatever was coming next, you needed to be ready.

----

That’s how you found yourself here, one week later, crouched on the apartment rooftop, the cold wind nipping at your exposed skin. The dark streets below are eerily silent, save for the distant hum of traffic. You sense them before you see them—another group of male mutants, closing in on your position. You grip the hilt of your knife tighter, feeling the now-familiar twinge of anger and frustration settle in your chest. This is the fifth group tonight. They’ve been hunting you in groups for days now, their numbers increasing as each one goes by, and you’re tired of it. 

You’ve started to get used to your new powers—testing your limits, pushing yourself harder with each confrontation. What started as simple self-defence, a punch here, a dodge there, has escalated into something far more lethal.

You didn’t want to kill, didn’t want to by use your sharpest kitchen knife (your only kitchen knife) as a weapon, but as the attacks became more violent, you found yourself with little to no choice. 

These mutants weren’t holding back, and neither could you.

Within a week, you went from the most average person in the world to what some people might call a vigilante—except you're really only trying to save your own skin.

Leaping off the roof, you land silently behind them. The speed at which you move is almost dizzying, your body a blur as you close the distance in the blink of an eye. 

“Looking for someone?” you call out sarcastically.

They turn, eyes widening in surprise, but you’re already moving. Your blade sings through the air, striking true, as you move like a shadow, taking them down one by one. It’s not easy—these guys are tough—but you’ve become tougher. With each strike, you can feel your strength surging, far beyond what should be possible. One of the mutants tries to block you, creating a forcefield, but you grab the edges before it can fully form, and break through it, the temporary pain vanishing as quick as it came. A solid kick to his face, and he crumples to the ground, unconscious before he even realizes it.

“Is this what you wanted?!” you shout, your voice echoing through the empty street as the last attacker falls to the ground, groaning in pain. “Is this what you came for?!”

The answer doesn’t come from them. Rather, it comes from a low growl behind you. 

You whirl around, heart racing, and there he is—Logan Howlett—the Wolverine himself. The man you’ve read about in every article, every piece of mutant-related news you could get your hands on since discovering your own abilities. He’s infamous, pretty much a legend, and the stories about him are as terrifying as they are fascinating.

Standing there with that scowl on his face, he looks every bit the dangerous figure you’ve imagined. His eyes are blank, calculating, and you can feel the weight of his gaze as it sizes you up. There’s a tension in the air, thick and suffocating, as he takes a step closer.

“So, you’re the one causing all this trouble,” Logan states gruffly, irritation coating his tongue. He unsheathes his claws, the adamantium glimmering under the streetlights. The sound is unmistakable, and it sends shivers down your spine. “Heard you’ve been killin’ off mutants left and right.”

You narrow your eyes, instinctively stepping back into a defensive stance. Your heart is pounding, but you can't show any weakness. 

“Funny, I thought the same about you, Wolverine. What’s the matter? Run out of bad guys to play hero with?”

Without warning, he charges at you, claws outstretched, but you’re ready. You dart to the side, your speed giving you an edge as his claws slice through the air where you’d been standing, making a woosh sound. You counter with a swift kick to his ribs, putting your enhanced strength into the blow. He grunts, stumbling slightly, but quickly regains his balance. The momentary advantage you gained is gone as he storms toward you once more.

You meet his attacks head-on, your blade clashing with his claws in a shower of sparks. The force of each impact reverberates through your arms, but you hold your ground, refusing to back down. His attacks are ferocious, a whirlwind of claws and fury. He's fast, but you’re faster, dodging and weaving with a precision that keeps you just out of reach.

“Look, sweetheart,” he growls between strikes, his frustration evident. “You can make this easy or hard. I don’t care which, but I’m not lettin’ you hurt anyone else.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you deflect another swipe of his claws. “Oh, please. You think I’m the bad guy here? These jerks have been coming after me for days. I’m just defending myself.”

Logan doesn’t look convinced, and that pisses you off more than anything. “Right. And I’m supposed to believe you, why? You’re leavin’ a trail of bodies behind you.”

You narrow your eyes, feeling the anger boil over. “Because I’m not the one who started this! They did! But of course, you wouldn’t know that, would you? You just show up, swinging your claws around like you’re the big savior.”

“You got a mouth on you, don’t ya?” He retorts, snarling as he charges at you again, faster this time. You barely have time to block his attack, the force of his blow sending you skidding back several feet. But you dig your heels in, refusing to give an inch as he continues plows forward. Your speed kicks in, allowing you to duck under his next swing and land a punch to his jaw.

He staggers, but quickly recovers, swiping at you with renewed fury. You're a bit sloppy compared to him, not as much of a seasoned fighter. His claws swipe at your arm, cutting deep and drawing blood, but the wound heals almost instantly, the skin closing up as if it had never been cut. You see the flicker of surprise in his eyes, but it doesn’t slow him down. He lunges again, becoming a blur of motion as he ups the ante.

You parry with your knife, but this time, you’re on the offensive. You launch a rapid series of attacks, your speed and strength managing to drive him back. In the rush of movement, you're able to see an opening, grasping his shoulder and shoving him hard, sending him crashing into a nearby wall. The impact is enough to crack the brick, but Logan just shakes it off, pushing himself back to his feet.

“Gotta say,” you huff, panting slightly from the exertion, “I’m a little disappointed. I expected more from the you, after all I’ve heard.”

Logan grunts, clearly fed up with the banter. “I'm done talking.”

He lunges at you again, and this time, it’s a battle of wills as much as it is of skill. You don't back down, your knife clashing with his claws in a series of rapid, brutal strikes. The alleyway becomes a blur of movement, metal against metal, strength against strength. Each time his claws find their mark, your regenerative abilities kick in, healing the wounds almost as quickly as they’re made. 

And for a moment, you wonder if you’ll have to kill him too, just to survive. But then something shifts. Maybe it’s the way your attacks grow weaker, less lethal. Or maybe it’s the way Logan’s eyes narrow in realization when he notices your hesitance.

“Wait a damn minute,” Logan says, stepping back just out of your reach, wiping his mouth, then spitting on the ground. He’s breathing hard, just like you. “You’re holdin’ back.”

He pauses, his eyes narrowing as they flick down to the knife you’ve been holding, and then back up to you. His expression shifts, a mix of disbelief and exasperation crossing his face. “And is that a kitchen knife?”

You glance down at the knife in your hand, realizing how absurd it must look in the middle of this intense fight. It’s not exactly standard combat gear, but it’s all you had when this started. You can’t help the smirk that pulls at your lips as you meet his gaze again.

“It gets the job done,” you quip, shrugging slightly.

He shakes his head, clearly not impressed. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“I'm choosing to take that as a compliment,” The sarcasm is practically oozing off of you.

He eyes you warily, his posture still tense. “You’re not makin’ this easy, you know. You got me here thinkin’ you’re some crazed mutant killer, but you’re just a girl wavin’ around a kitchen knife like you’re in a bad horror movie.”

You cross your arms. “Well, I didn’t exactly have time to hit up a weapons store. Besides, I didn’t ask for any of this. These guys came after me first.”

Logan studies you. “So you say. But you’re killing dozens of mutants. Doesn’t exactly scream ‘innocent.’”

“Trust me, if I had a choice, I wouldn’t be doing this–fighting… killing–at all. Hell, I didn’t even know I was a mutant until some guy swung his fist at me a week ago.” You meet his gaze, challenging him. “And what about you? You’re not exactly known for playing nice.”

He snorts. “Yeah, well, most of my casualties are from the missions I go on, so I'd say it's justified.”

Your eyes narrow, catching the implication in his words. “Oh, am I your mission now? How long have you been tracking me?”

Logan’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s a slight shift in his posture, a subtle acknowledgment that you’ve hit on something. “Long enough to know you’re not just some innocent bystander caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“So, what? You’ve been watching me, waiting for me to screw up so you could take me down?” you demand, the frustration clear in your voice.

“Something like that,” he replies gruffly, “But from what I’ve seen, you’re more reactive than proactive," he looks you up and down. "I can’t seem figure out if you’re the real threat here, or just someone caught in the middle of a bigger mess.”

You let out a slow breath, trying to calm the fiery anger rising within you. “I told you, I didn’t start this. They did. I’m just trying to survive.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, teeth grinding as he considers your words. You can see the gears turning in his head, trying to piece together whether you’re telling the truth or just playing him. He takes a step closer, his claws still out but not as threatening as before.

Finally, he asks, “You got a name?”

You roll your eyes, exasperated. “No shit I have a name.”

Logan huffs, unimpressed by your attitude. “Well, if you’re not gonna tell me, I’m just gonna have to call you somethin’… How 'bout Knifey?”

You stare at him, half-expecting him to crack a smile, but he’s dead serious. “Knifey? Really?”

Logan shrugs, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he eyes your weapon of choice again. “Fits, don’t you think?”

“Fine. I’ll tell you my name, alright? Anything but Knifey.” You say, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

“... Gotta say, Knifey sounds a little better”

“Shut the fuck up, Wolverine”

“It’s Logan, actually.”

You release a deep sigh. “I know, and I don’t care. I’m telling you I am not the one you need to be going after.”

Logan scoffs, crossing his arms. “I’ve been around a long time. Seen my fair share of people who think they’re doin’ the right thing and end up doin’ a hell of a lot of damage. So, forgive me if I’m a little skeptical.”

“You would know a lot about that, wouldn’t you?” The words come out of your mouth before you had time to think about them, and you regret it immediately. You can see the mutant in front of you’s face darken to a degree bordering murderous, and you think you’ve crossed a line you can’t come back from. Whatever playful banter existed before this is gone.

“Careful,” He growls menacingly, “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

You swallow hard. The Wolverine is infamous for a reason, and you just poked at the beast beneath the surface. You briefly consider backing down, but your pride refuses to let you.

“Maybe I don’t,” you admit, “But I do know what it’s like to be hunted, to have no choice but to fight back. So yeah, maybe we’re more alike than you think.”

Logan’s glare softens just a fraction, and he lets out a long, frustrated breath. “You really don’t know when to shut up, do ya?”

“Not when I’m trying to make a point,” you retort.

He doesn’t respond immediately, just stares at you, as if he’s trying to decide whether to continue this conversation or end it with his claws. Ultimately, he shakes his head, the anger in his eyes dimming, replaced by something more akin to weary resignation.

“Fine,” he mutters. “Maybe you’re not the one I should be takin’ down. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna start trustin’ you.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” you reply, feeling a bit of relief that the situation isn’t about to escalate into another fight. “But I swear, there’s someone else out there pulling the strings. And I’m not sticking around to be their puppet.”

He nods slowly, crossing his arms again. “We’ll find out who’s behind this, but I’m callin’ the shots. You step outta line, and we’re gonna have a problem.”

You smirk, a little of your bravado returning. “I’ll try not to disappoint you, Logan.”

You can tell he doesn't appreciate your attitude, but he lets it slide. “Let’s get one thing straight. This ain’t a partnership. I’m doin’ this to figure out what the hell’s goin’ on, not because I like you.”

“Trust me, the feeling’s mutual,” you shoot back, though there’s no real heat behind your words.

Logan turns abruptly, not even bothering to beckon you with him.

It makes you roll your eyes but you fall in step beside him anyway, knowing that despite the rocky start, this uneasy alliance might be the only thing keeping you alive. 

“…So… where exactly are we going?”

He sends you a sidelong glance. "Who said I’m takin’ you anywhere?"

You throw your hands up, exasperated. "Well, if you don’t, these mutants are going to keep hunting me, and I’m going to keep killing them…” you shoot him a look, batting your eyelashes innocently. “You wouldn't want that, would you?"

“Fuck off”

"Well, too late for that now."

He grumbles something under his breath that you don’t quite catch, but it sounds a lot like cursing his bad luck.

"We’re headin’ to my place. It’s the safest spot right now."

----

Turn’s out, it’s not really his place. Or at least, it’s what you’d thought it’d be. It’s more of an abandoned warehouse that he just decided to seek refuge in one day, doing the bare minimum to make it feel at the very least, home-y. The heavy metal doors creak open, revealing a chaotic interior cluttered with garbage, old newspapers, and a few scattered items. In the corner, a single bed and a sagging couch that look like they’ve definitely seen better days.

Your nose wrinkles in disgust as you take in the mess. "Seriously?" you mutter, your voice tinged with disbelief. "This is where you've been hiding out? It looks like a tornado hit a thrift store."

Logan, who had been trailing behind you, lets out a low grunt as he shuffles past, not bothering to respond to your jab. His heavy footsteps echo in the otherwise silent space, the sound bouncing off the bare, cold walls. He heads straight for a small, battered table that looks like it's one sharp nudge away from collapsing. On it lies a worn notebook, its pages yellowed and curling at the edges, evidence of extensive use. Without a word, he picks it up and starts flipping through the pages, his expression unreadable.

Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you step closer, peering over his shoulder. "What's this?" you ask, reaching out to take the notebook from him. He hesitates for a brief moment before relinquishing it into your hands. As you flip through the pages, your eyes widen in shock. The notes are detailed, almost obsessively so, listing the names of various mutants, their abilities, and the exact locations where their bodies were found. 

"Oh, great," you say with a sarcastic, half-hearted laugh. "You've been keeping tabs on me. What kind of creepy stalker are you?”

He rolls his eyes and snatches the notebook back, his voice dripping with irritation. "I wasn’t exactly tracking you. I was trying to track whoever’s been killing all those damn mutants."

Logan’s jaw tightens as you just continue to stare, and he lets out an exasperated sigh. "And don’t act all innocent. I needed to know who was causing all the chaos."

Scoffing, you continue to look through the notebook, stopping when you come across a particularly detailed entry. "Wow... 26 kills? Not too shabby for an amateur mutant, huh?"

“Is your mouth unable to stay shut?” he questions, though you know better than to answer that. 

The notebook flops back onto the table with a casual flick of your wrist. "Hey, don’t be mad just because I’m doing a better job than you expected."

He crosses his arms over his chest, his muscles straining against the fabric of his shirt. "I’m not mad," he snaps. "I’m annoyed that you’re making light of this. It’s not exactly a high score to brag about."

"Oh, come on. You’re the one who turned this place into a shrine to my success” you smirk.

"It’s not a shrine," Logan growls, his patience wearing thin. "It’s a record. If you’d been paying more attention to what’s going on, you’d know that."

The playfulness fades from your face as his words hit home. He’s right, but you’re not about to admit it. Instead, you deflect. "Yeah, and if you’d bothered to talk to me instead of playing detective, maybe we’d have figured this out sooner."

"You think you’re the only one who’s had a rough time? This whole situation is a mess, and we’re both caught in it." His eyes narrow.

You cross your arms, mirroring his defensive posture. "You didn’t have to get involved, you know. Unless...what if you’re the bad guy here?" you challenge, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. "Using all these mutants to lure me into your dungeon under the pretense of trying to ‘stop’ me?"

His response is immediate. "I’m way too lazy to think of doing all that."

You can’t help but believe him, especially given the state of the warehouse. He clearly lacks the energy—or the interest—to tidy up his living space, let alone mastermind a complex plot. You let out a sigh and walk over to the sagging couch in the corner. The fabric is threadbare, and the springs groan in protest as you flop down onto it.

"Fine, fine... I trust you," you concede, though your tone is far from serious. "Did you notice anything specific amongst these mutants?"

"Yeah, I’ve noticed somethin’,” Logan says, dragging a hand down his face, now looking more tired than ever. “They’re all pretty low-key. Not exactly top-tier in the mutant rankings. Never caused any trouble before, yadda yadda. If anything, they’re usually on the weaker side."

You furrow your brows, intrigued. "So they’re not a serious threat."

"Exactly," Logan confirms with a nod. "It’s weird. These mutants aren’t the type to just go around being fuckin’ annoying like they have been. Someone—or something—must be pushing them into this."

"You think they’re all being controlled somehow?" you muse, the pieces slowly falling into place. "And that’s why they’re suddenly acting out of character?"

"Seems like it," He replies, rubbing his temples. "Must be powerful if they’re all falling in line like this. We’re going to have to dig deeper to find the source of it.

He moves to sit next to you on the couch, the worn fabric sinking even further under his weight. "Tell me everything you know," Logan says quietly, his voice a tinge softer now, almost coaxing. "Everything that’s happened to you."

You sigh and lean back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling as you start to recount your experience. "It all began about a week ago. Just a normal day, I was walking to the grocery store, then I noticed this guy following me. At first, I thought it was a coincidence. But no matter where I went, he was always a few steps behind."

His attention sharpens, his gaze locking onto yours. "And?"

"It started as just stalking," you continue, your voice growing quieter as the memories flood back. "Nothing violent. But then, it started happening with different people. Each time, they were more persistent, more intimidating. It became clear that something was off."

You can feel Logan’s gaze burning into you, his concern evident in the way he leans closer, listening intently. "Eventually, they started getting aggressive," you say. "One night, one of them blocked my path and tried to grab me. I managed to fight him off, but when he hit me, it didn’t hurt. I mean, it should have, he looked pretty strong, but my arm felt fine. That’s when I realized I had powers—some form of super strength, super speed, and healing abilities."

"And you figured that out just from fighting them off?" he questions, somewhat impressed.

You nod, rubbing your arms as if to ward off a lingering chill. "Yeah. I didn’t really have a choice. They kept coming, and I had to use whatever I had to protect myself—including my damn kitchen knife. The more I fought, the more I understood what I could do.”

Logan pauses, his expression unreadable as he processes everything you’ve said. The dim light from the single bulb casts long shadows across the room, emphasizing the lines of fatigue etched into his face. Finally, he stands up, his movements slow and deliberate. "So, here’s the plan," he starts, his voice rough and tired. "We need to figure out exactly where these mutants are coming from. There’s gotta be a main location where they’re getting their orders or some central hub for this control."

You hum in agreement, though a part of you is reluctant to jump back into action so soon. "Alright, so how do we start tracking that down?"

His lips press into a thin line as he thinks it over. "We’ll stake out the rooftops. From up there, we can get a clear view of their movements and see if they’re converging somewhere specific. Maybe spot a pattern."

You stretch, stifling a yawn as you glance around the shabby room. "Okay, but are we doing that tonight? I’m pretty beat."

“Seriously? You want to put this off?" he accuses, face twisting in irritation.

"I’m up for it, but I’d be more effective if I’m not running on fumes. Plus, you look pretty tired yourself," you shrug. 

He lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. We’ll do it tomorrow."

A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you sense his reluctance to agree. "So you agree with me," you state, not really feeling any real pride, but just wanting to push his buttons.

Logan grumbles under his breath as he starts to clear a space on the threadbare couch, which creaks loudly under even the slightest pressure. "Do you ever shut up? I’m letting you crash in my bed, aren’t I?"

You chuckle softly, watching him arrange a tattered blanket on the couch with exaggerated care. "Yeah, yeah, okay. Goodnight, old man."

"Watch it, Knifey," he mutters, settling onto the couch with a groan as the springs protest under his weight.

You roll your eyes at his choice of nickname, and with a sigh, you make your way over to the bed, which is small and far from luxurious, but it’s better than nothing. The mattress dips slightly as you climb in, and the covers are thin, barely providing any warmth. Still, exhaustion pulls at you, and you barely have time to think about what the covers smell like before sleep overtakes you.

----

pls comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the series taglist!

[malavera]

Peaches: “Will you forgive me... Daddy?” (18+) — Logan Howlett

this is a part 2 of my series called Peaches, but it can be read as a standalone 😉 if you wish to check out the part 1 click here!

summary: It’s not like you can’t take care of yourself, no. Your dad just worries a lot so he asks for your friendly old man neighbor to look after you while he’s gone on his business trip. But is that all?

warning: SMUT! MDNI. a little bit fluff, ddlg dynamic, bratty!reader, dom!logan, oral M receiving, throatfucking

taglist: @wcndercore @peachyystuff @kholdkill @narjuko @the-occasional-artist1125 @robynanthonystark @suchasweetieee @jensojkaobecna @explainthisaetheists @currentlyquestioningexistence @cathers-world @seasonofthenerd @thinkinonsense comment if you'd like to be tagged for the next part 😉

The peach-colored bath bomb hisses as it plunges into the warm water, sending ripples through the surface. It fizzes and dissolves, releasing a cloud of sweet fragrance that wraps around the room like a soft, intoxicating embrace. You inhale deeply, the scent pulling you back to a moment not so long ago. As the steam rises, you let the bathrobe slip from your shoulders, but hesitate. The water beckons, promising comfort and warmth, yet something in you resists. His scent still clings to your skin—a haunting reminder of a presence now gone. The thought of washing it away feels like surrendering the last trace of him, and for a moment, you stand there, torn between the allure of the soothing bath and the ache of holding on to what remains.

But in the end, the warmth proves too inviting, and you let yourself slip into the bath. The water envelops you, pulling you into its embrace as your mind replays the scene, vivid and haunting. You can almost see him again, the way he casually brought his fingers to his lips, licking the last remnants of you with a slow, deliberate ease. He didn’t say a word, but that smirk—so confident, so sure—spoke volumes. It was a silent claim, a parting message that lingered as he turned to leave, leaving you with nothing but the fading echo of his presence and the water that now seems too gentle, too cleansing, against the memory you wish to keep.

Time has slipped away, and now, two weeks have passed since that moment. It feels like a distant dream, yet the memory remains sharp, refusing to fade. You’ve been avoiding Logan ever since, even though that’s not what he wants from you. He’s the opposite of what you’ve intended to do; he wants you to embrace it. He wants you to embrace your desire.

But like what you are, you’re too much of a pussy to face your own desire. Even though it aches for his touch.

Now, with your dad away on a business trip, you couldn't be more thrilled. The house is yours, a rare freedom that has your mind buzzing with possibilities. You imagine nights without curfew, slipping out into the night without a care, and not having to worry about getting caught. But your excitement gets the best of you, and you celebrate too soon. Just when you think you’ve outsmarted the system, your dad’s words come crashing down like a cold wave, his rules and expectations finding a way to reach you even when he’s miles away, dampening the thrill before it even begins,

“I’ve asked Logan to watch over you here and there. So, I won’t worry much. He’ll update me on whatever it is you do so, behave.”

Fun right?

And here you are, sitting in the diner’s booth with your girlfriends, the buzz of conversation and the smell of greasy food filling the air. They’re all planning to head to a party after this, and when they mention the time—10 PM—your stomach flips. That’s your curfew, the invisible line you’ve never dared to cross. But tonight, the temptation is too strong, and you’re about to go for it, to finally break the rules. Just as you’re about to give in, the door chimes, and there he is—Logan, strolling into the diner like he owns the place. He walks right up to you, his presence sending a jolt through your resolve, and without a word, he makes it clear he’s not letting you out of his sight tonight. As he takes your hand, you know the party isn’t in the cards anymore—Logan’s about to take you on a different kind of ride.

Crossing your arms tightly over your chest, you pout, your bottom lip jutting out as you stubbornly refuse to look straight ahead. “I’m not a seventeen-year-old,” you mutter under your breath, the words more for yourself than for him.

“But you act like one,” Logan shoots back with a tsk, not missing a beat.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “I’m twenty-three, for god’s sake. Both of you need to stop treating me like a baby!” You huff, finally turning to face him. He’s driving with effortless ease, one hand on the steering wheel, the other casually resting against the door. The simple, relaxed way he holds himself only makes him look even more frustratingly attractive. You hate that he’s right, but more than that, you hate that you can’t stop noticing just how good he looks when he’s in control.

Stubborn as ever, you dig in, determined not to let him win this round. You reminded yourself of why you were fuming in the first place, the anger bubbling back to the surface. “Stop the truck,” you demanded, your voice edged with frustration.

Logan’s head snapped towards you, surprise flashing in his eyes. “What?”

“I said stop the truck, or I’ll jump, and I won’t hesitate. Do not test me right now, I swear, Logan,” you grumbled, your tone leaving no room for doubt. Your sudden tantrum catches him off guard, and for a moment, the confident Logan you’re used to falters. The sweet little peach he thought he knew is nowhere to be found, replaced by someone fierce and unpredictable.

It intrigues him. Something in your defiance pulls at him, piquing his curiosity. He’s not sure what you’re planning, but he wants to find out. Without a word, he slows the car, watching you closely, waiting to see what you’ll do next.

The tension in the car was thick, suffocating even, as you glared at Logan, fury burning in your eyes. The moment felt like it could explode any second, and you weren’t willing to sit there another minute. With a sharp huff, you pushed the door open and stormed out of the car, the cool night air hitting your face like a slap.

“Peach!” Logan’s voice boomed, filled with an urgency that barely masked his frustration. He fumbled with his seatbelt, the metal buckle clinking violently before he freed himself and followed you out. The car door slammed behind him, reverberating in the stillness. “What the hell are you doing?!”

You didn’t stop. “I’m going to my friends, and you can’t stop me!” Your voice was a defiant shout, each word a hammer striking the fragile foundation of whatever was left between you two. Your footsteps were quick, determined to leave him and everything he represented behind.

Logan’s grunt was more animal than man, filled with a rawness that made your heart lurch. “Peach, I swear, get back in the fucking car!” His voice cracked through the night, a desperate command that echoed around you.

But you didn’t turn back. Not this time. “No! And stop calling me that, that’s not even my name!” You shot back, your words slicing through the tension like a blade, final and unyielding.

As you thought you’d finally put enough distance between yourself and his truck, something shifted beneath you—your feet were no longer pounding against the pavement. You shrieked in surprise, your arms flailing as you tried to break free. But before you could fully process what was happening, you were momentarily released, only for Logan to scoop you up again, this time slinging you over his shoulder with a grunt of determination.

"You're not going anywhere, not even in that dress," Logan growled, his voice rough and unwavering, sending a chill down your spine. You writhed in his grasp, pounding your fists against his broad back with all the force you could muster.

"Let me go! Please! Help, someone!" Your voice rang out, desperate and frantic, but the night offered no solace. The street was eerily quiet, not a single car in sight, no one to hear your cries. The only response was the echo of your own voice and the steady, unyielding pace of Logan’s steps as he carried you back towards his truck.

Logan wasted no time strapping you into the passenger seat, his hands moving with a practiced efficiency that left no room for protest. The door slammed shut with a resounding thud, and before you could unbuckle yourself, he was already climbing into the driver’s seat. Your frustration bubbled over, and you flailed your arms, grunting and throwing a full-blown tantrum like a five-year-old denied their favorite toy.

But then Logan’s voice erupted, filling the car with a booming authority that silenced you instantly. “ENOUGH!” The word hung in the air, heavy and final. Your arms froze mid-motion, and you stared at him with your brows furrowed and lips pouting, the anger in your eyes now mixed with a hint of confusion.

Logan’s gaze softened just a fraction, but his tone remained firm as he continued, “I’m just doing what your dad wants me to do here, Peach. So help me God, if you wanna go hang out with your friends past curfew, fine, I’ll let you go. But not this one!” His voice was low, edged with a protectiveness that made your heart skip a beat. “I’m not letting you go out there to that fucking stupid party where you could probably get drugged or have alcohol shoved down your throat without your consent; no fucking way.”

The weight of his words settled over you, and for a moment, the car was filled with nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing, the tension between you both palpable.

Logan’s eyes flicked over to you, taking in the way your chest still heaved with heavy, frustrated breaths. He understood why. The anger bubbling inside you wasn’t just about this moment—it was about the bigger picture, the suffocating sense of disappointment that came from a reality that refused to bend to your desires. You craved freedom, the kind that seemed to come so easily to everyone else.

All you wanted was to be like the others out there, those who could breeze past curfew without a second thought, who laughed and danced through the night without anyone holding them back. Hell, they didn’t even have curfews anymore, not since they turned twenty-one. But here you were, feeling like the world was passing you by, like you were missing out on all the big, exhilarating experiences that came with being young and reckless.

You’d never touched alcohol, never gone to a party where the night stretched into the early hours, never done anything that could be described as recklessly fun. And it gnawed at you. The longing for that freedom, for the chance to let loose and live a little, was a weight on your chest, one that no amount of logic or concern from Logan could lift.

Logan watched you quietly, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he saw the storm brewing in your eyes, the conflict between the person you were and the person you wanted to be. He knew he couldn’t give you the freedom you craved, not in this moment. But he couldn’t ignore your pain, either.

Logan leaned over, his movements deliberate as he unbuckled your seatbelt. You watched him, confusion flickering in your eyes as the sharp edges of your anger began to soften. His gaze met yours, steady and calm, as he murmured, “C’mere.”

Before you could fully process what was happening, his hand found your thigh, firm yet gentle as he lifted you up and guided you to sit on his lap, sideways. The shift in position felt unexpected, your body tensing for a moment before you let yourself relax into the warmth of his embrace.

Logan’s strong arms wrapped around you, guiding your body to lean against his chest. He carefully positioned your head on his shoulder, his touch tender as if he knew exactly how to soothe the turmoil raging inside you. The steady rhythm of his breathing, the solid feel of his chest rising and falling beneath you, gradually eased the tension from your muscles.

In his arms, the world outside the car seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in the quiet, shared space. The anger and frustration still simmered, but now, in Logan’s embrace, it felt more manageable, less like a storm and more like a lingering cloud.

Logan's voice rumbled softly against your ear as he spoke, the firmness in his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’m taking you home, alright? Whether you like it or not, I don’t care. But if you want to go out with your girlfriends tomorrow night doing other things than PARTYING, you bet your ass I’m gonna lock you in the house myself. Deal?”

You didn’t respond immediately, the weight of his words settling in as you considered his offer. It wasn’t exactly what you wanted, but it was better than nothing. The compromise, though not ideal, felt like a small victory. So, without saying a word, you nodded your head against his shoulder, accepting his terms.

Logan seemed to take your silent agreement as enough, his arms tightening around you in a way that felt protective rather than restrictive. The frustration still lingered, but there was also a sense of relief in knowing that, at least for tonight, you didn’t have to keep fighting.

“Okay,” Logan murmured as he turned the key, the engine of the truck rumbling to life. You instinctively started to shift, ready to slide off his lap and back into the passenger seat, but his hand on your thigh halted your movement.

“Whoa, whoa, where are you going?” His voice held a teasing edge, but there was no mistaking the seriousness in his eyes as they locked onto yours.

“But, you’re about to dri—” you began, but Logan cut you off with a grunt.

“I don’t care,” he said, his gaze intense, the authority in his tone leaving no room for argument. “Make yourself comfortable and sit on my lap like a good girl, no more tantrum.”

The command sent a shiver down your spine, your breath catching in your throat as you met his stare. The tension from earlier was still there, but now it was mixed with something else, something that made your pulse quicken. His grip on your thigh was firm, but his touch was still gentle, almost reassuring.

Slowly, you settled back into his lap, your body leaning against his solid frame as the truck began to roll forward. There was a strange comfort in the way he held you, the familiar scent of him filling your senses. The fight had left you, replaced by a quiet acceptance, your earlier anger melting away as you rested your head against his shoulder.

The ride was wrapped in a comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t need to be filled with words. For some reason, being around Logan soothed you in a way that nothing else had for a long time. It was a feeling you’d longed for, a sense of security and warmth that you hadn’t realized how much you missed until now.

Even though you had your dad, it wasn’t the same. You were never really close with him. The glue that held your family together had always been your late mother, the one who bridged the gap between you and your father. But when she passed away from that illness when you were seventeen, everything changed. The dynamic between you and your dad became something different—just plain family.

He loved you, you knew that, but it was a love that felt distant, like an obligation rather than a connection. And you loved him back, but only just enough. There was a gap, a void left by your mother’s absence, that neither of you knew how to fill. You’d drifted apart, existing in the same space but not truly together.

But with Logan, it was different. Even in the quiet, even without saying a word, there was a comfort in his presence that made you feel like you weren’t so alone. The steady rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his body against yours—it was like a balm to the aching loneliness you carried.

The warmth of your house greeted you as soon as you unlocked the front door, a comforting contrast to the cool night air outside. You stepped inside, the familiar scent of home wrapping around you like a blanket. With a tired sigh, you tossed the keys into the bowl on the console table, the clatter echoing in the quiet hallway. Without a word, you made your way upstairs, leaving Logan standing in the entryway, the silence between you stretching out once more.

Logan watched you disappear up the stairs, a heaviness settling over him. With a resigned sigh, he headed straight for the kitchen, his boots thudding softly against the hardwood floor. He grabbed a bottle of scotch from the cabinet, the glass container cold to the touch as he unscrewed the cap, pouring it down the glass.

Taking a generous sip, Logan flopped down onto your couch, the cushions sinking under his weight. The remote was within reach, and with a flick of his wrist, he turned on the TV. The soft glow of the screen filled the room, casting flickering shadows on the walls.

But even as the TV droned on in the background, Logan’s mind wasn’t on whatever was playing. He took another sip of his beer, letting the quiet comfort of your home settle around him, a stark contrast to the tension that had filled the night.

After slipping into more comfortable clothes, you hesitated at the top of the stairs, hoping that Logan was still there. The night had left you feeling unsettled, and the thought of him being gone added to the unease. Slowly, you made your way downstairs, the soft fabric of your clothes brushing against your skin, grounding you.

As you reached the living room, you cleared your throat, the sound breaking the stillness. Logan, who had been staring at the TV without really watching, turned his head towards you, his eyes meeting yours. There was a flicker of something in his gaze—concern, maybe relief—before he watched you walk towards him.

Without saying a word, you sat down on the couch beside him, the space between you feeling both intimate and vast. You looked at the glass of scotch in Logan’s hand, your curiosity piqued. “Can I try?” you asked, your voice soft but eager.

Logan glanced at the glass and then back at you. He simply handed it over without a word, his expression neutral. The amber liquid sloshed slightly as you took the glass from him. The warmth of the scotch felt foreign in your hand, but there was a sense of anticipation as you held it. Logan watched you silently, his gaze steady as you prepared to take your first sip.

You raised the glass to your lips, the rich, amber liquid catching the light. With a deep breath, you took your first sip. The taste was immediately intriguing—complex and smoky, with a hint of sweetness that lingered pleasantly on your tongue. It was unlike anything you’d ever had before, a unique blend of flavors that seemed to dance across your palate.

The warmth of the scotch spread from your mouth down your throat, a slow burn that settled into a comforting glow. You took another sip, savoring the taste, letting the sensation wash over you. The flavor was bold and sophisticated, a little bit of adventure in a glass.

“You like it?” Logan asked, raising one eyebrow and giving you a half-smile. His gaze was curious as he watched you take in the experience.

You folded your lips, glancing down at the glass before meeting his eyes again and nodding. “It’s not bad,” you admitted, a hint of a smile playing on your lips.

Logan chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Would you trade your life for this or for your peach soda?” he joked.

You giggled, the scotch giving you a carefree lightness. “Peach soda for the win,” you declared with a playful grin. But then, without hesitation, you raised the glass to your lips and chugged the rest of the liquor in one swift motion.

Logan watched with a mixture of amusement and surprise. “Says one who’d trade her life for the peach soda,” he remarked with a scoff, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

He grabbed the empty glass from your hand and, with a quick motion, poured another round for himself. The scotch swirled in the glass as he settled back onto the couch, the warmth of the liquor evident in his relaxed demeanor.

“I want one again,” you murmured, a pout forming on your lips as you looked at the empty glass.

Logan sighed, giving in with a resigned smile. “Fine, here,” he said, pouring another generous measure of scotch into the glass. But instead of reaching for the glass, you snatched the bottle right from his hand.

“Wha—hey whoa, Peach,” Logan started, surprised.

“I have my limits, don’t worry,” you replied with a mischievous glint in your eye.

Logan frowned, his hand reaching for the bottle. “Right, considering this is your first time and you like this more than your peach soda, I think that’s not a great idea. Come on, give me the bottle.”

With a shriek of playful defiance, you pushed yourself off the couch and stood in front of him, waving the bottle mockingly. “Watch me,” you smirked, lifting the bottle to your lips.

You took a generous sip, the rich warmth of the scotch flowing smoothly down your throat. Logan watched, amused. The newfound confidence in your actions only seemed to grow with each sip, the scotch emboldening you in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

As the minutes ticked by, you began to feel a subtle shift within you. The warmth from the scotch seemed to spread through your body, making you feel more alive, more fearless. It was as if the world outside had softened, the edges of your worries and reservations blurring into the background.

“Hmmm,” you hummed contentedly, taking a step closer to where Logan sat. With a playful glint in your eye, you placed the bottle on the coffee table and then gracefully straddled his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Logan’s expression shifted subtly, his initial concern giving way to something more intimate. His eyes softened, the playful warmth of the moment casting a new light on his face. He adjusted his position slightly to accommodate you, his hands resting gently on your hips.

"I'm sorry for the way I acted tonight," you murmured, looking down to his lips before gazing up to his eyes. "Will you forgive me... Daddy?"

Logan looks at you surprised, he couldn't believe what he just heard. It's something he has never heard anyone addressed him with that before. The tension wasn't comforting it was rather more, sensual. Logan slowly leans forward inching closer to your face, he looks down to your lips before murmuring, "What did you just call me?"

You giggled, "Daddy." You repeated. "You're more like a dad to me than my dad ever was," you giggled. "The only difference is, I wanna fuck you." The scotch is now talking. "You were right, all those times you've caught me fucking myself with my fingers through my window, I wanted you to watch me," You stare at him with doe eyes. "And thank fuck, you watched me."

Logan groaned from listening to you talk like that. His hands gripping your hips, throwing his head back against the cushion. "You promised me you wanted me to feel your cock," you pouted, starting to move your hips, rubbing your clothed cunt against his denim jeans. Inching your face close to him, you whispered against his lips, "So give me your cock, Daddy."

Logan grumbled something under his breath, his gaze darkening as the playful tension between you ignited into something more intense. Without warning, his hand moved to your throat, not with force but with a possessive firmness that sent a shiver down your spine. In one swift motion, he pulled you in, crashing his lips against yours.

The kiss was searing, filled with the passion that had been simmering between you all night. His lips moved against yours with an urgency that took your breath away, the earlier tenderness giving way to something more primal. The heat of the moment enveloped you both, and you felt your heart race as the kiss deepened, becoming more feral and uncontrolled.

Logan’s hands tightened around your waist, pulling you closer as his mouth claimed yours with a hunger that made your head spin. The kiss became sloppy, desperate even, as the two of you lost yourselves in the intensity of the connection. You struggled to keep up, your breath hitching as you tried to match his pace, but it was overwhelming, intoxicating. The world around you seemed to blur, your senses consumed by the taste of him, the feel of his hands on your body, and the way his lips demanded everything from you.

You never stopped grinding your hips against his clothed cock as both of your lips were dancing with each other. The bulge in his jeans kept growing bigger and bigger until he decided it's finally enough to torture him; he broke the kiss and lift you up before his hands went to undo his jeans.

You watched the way he swiftly pulling down his jeans along with his boxers, his cock slapped against his abdomen. Shit, you thought. He's nowhere near small, he's big and fat. You wonder if it's going to fit in your small cunt and your small mouth. Logan noticed your demeanor has changed as he smirked to himself.

"Don't worry, Peach. I'll show you how." You looked at him confused. "You're gonna put my cock in your mouth first," You inhaled sharply before nodding your head, Logan smiled at you, happy that you're obeying to what he wants you to do. "Good girl, get on your knees."

Logan walked you through it, by telling you to grab his cock with both hands. "Give it a kiss." He urged, nudging his chin cockily. You hesitatingly kissed the raging red tip of his cock that has his already pre-cum leaking from the tiny slit. "Lick it, peach." He commanded, you obeyed. Dragging your warm tongue out from your mouth and made contact with the skin.

Logan watching you so innocently making out with his tip, makes his heart beat faster, eager to slide his cock down your throat and fuck your stupidly innocent face. "Thaaaat's good, peach. Put 'em all in your mouth." Before you do that, you fixated your gaze on Logan before moving away to inch your face close to his heavy balls.

You decided to improvise and see if he'd like that, Logan watches you intensely and groaned as you drag your tongue from the bottom of his cock upwards to meet his tip before putting him all in your mouth. Hollowing your cheeks, and teasingly rolled your eyes close to show that you're enjoying it so much. And it did sent Logan to heaven, watching his little peach enjoy sucking his girth.

"You like my cock, peaches? .... Yeah? .... Well come on, put them all in ya." Logan muttered as he raised his hip slowly upward, pushing his cock into your mouth further to reach your throat. When you gagged, Logan moaned. You thought that was a good sign, especially when you couldn't control your saliva as it drips down to his pubic hair and all. "Fffuck." Logan cursed watching you bob your head and up down his cock.

"Feels s'good.. Peach, god." Logan rolled his eyes and lean his head back, his hand rest on top of your head, fisting your hair. He grunted, "'want more." He murmured under his breath before he decided to take control. He bobbed your head up and down, increasing the speed while also thrusting his hips upward, fucking your throat.

"Fuck yeah, you better think twice before you talk back to me like that in the car." Logan grunted, watching you struggle to breathe, your eyes getting teary and choked on his cock. Logan laughs rather maniacally, watching you struggle turns him on even more.

"You wanna feel how it feels like to have a warm cum slides down your throat, peaches?" Your eyes widened. "Yeah.. I'll show you. 'M gonna cum soon, Oh.. So good, peach." Logan moaned, eyebrows scrunched together with his eyes closed.

Placing your palm on his thighs, you tried to at least breathe a little. You didn't want to pull away as you don't want you disappoint him. You can feel Logan's tip twitch in your mouth, you take it he's about to cum soon.

Without warning, Logan let out the loudest moan ever, spilling his warm cum down your throat. His hips stuttered a little, giving you one final thrust to make sure he emptied everything in your mouth. And you gladly took them all. As Logan pulls his cock out from your mouth, he watched you swallow his everything down your throat as he smirked in proud.

You watched him with your famous doe-eyes when you want something but Logan just laughed at you, mocking.

"You think after you pulled that stunt on the road you deserve my cock in your pussy? Hell fucking no, peach. At least not tonight, now get to bed."

thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it! if you love my writing feel free to check my other works here

support me by buying me a coffee! 🤍

[eternalsunrise]

home, sweet home.

wolverine (logan howlett) x f!reader

wc: 980 (drabble)

tags! established relationship, no actual smut but super suggestive and gets graphic toward the end

notes! horny . but also v sweet. i pictured origins logan while writing this 💋

“if you keep moving i’m going to start slicing you up on purpose” your threat is empty, wrist away from his face completely, razor pointed the opposite direction. even with his regenerative abilities, you don’t want to hurt him, even if it’s just an accidental cut on his jaw.

logan was fully capable of doing this himself. after all, he’d been shaving his own face for decades upon decades. but there was no way he was going to pass up this opportunity.

he came through the front door after a two week long mission, scruffier than he was when he left. his mutton chops curling up at the tips of his jawline, mustache just long enough to tickle your face. he’d forgotten to pack his razor, and he’d rather use his own claws than use scott’s, or even worse, hank’s.

you were on him as soon as he walked in, leeched to his body, your hands everywhere. it had been too long since the wolverine breathed you in like this, his enhanced senses overstimulated in the best way. you ran your hand over his scratchy cheek, inquiring about his new look. he told you he was planning on cleaning it up but was exhausted. that’s when you offered.

now he’s sat on the toliet seat, and maybe he’s enjoying the view of you on his lap a little too much. he lifted his hips, bouncing you lightly on his legs.

“hm. relax princess, jus’ adjusting.” logan gives you a teasing smile, basking in the bliss he only feels in your presence. your eyes narrow in faux disdain, it’s hard to be frustrated at a guy with shaving cream covering his face. you grab one of his feline quips of hair, using it to tilt his head to finish the task at hand.

“i’m going with you next time, i can’t have you walking around like a caveman.” i missed you more than i can say.

ever the man, the image of you in an x-men suit pops into his brain, the leather hugging your body just right. the thought brings a smirk to his face, but it fades when he hears your sigh. right, no moving.

“yes ma’am. i’ll call the professor and let him know.” i missed you too. felt like i was never going to come back to you.

you lean your body over to rinse the razor off in the sink, logan’s large hands on your thighs keeping you steady. the metal clinks against the porcelain of the sink, shaving cream and dark hair going down the drain.

when you look back, you see your boyfriend in place of the lumberjack that walked in earlier. still scruffy and masculine, after all he is still the wolverine.

logan lifts his hips again, shifting backwards and forcing you to fall against him, razor clattering out of your hand. “whoops” his deep voice carries no sympathy, chocolate eyes locking with yours, giving you that love struck look that makes your stomach turn. the kind of look he saves just for you.

your chests are touching, the closeness sets your whole body ablaze. it’s been too long since you’ve got to soak him up like this. the smell of him makes your head swim; leather, cheap cigar smoke, and that cologne you bought him a few months back.

logan sneaks his hands under his brown flannel button up you’re wearing, delighted to be met by the bare skin of your hips. the metal of his belt buckle is cold against the bottom of your stomach, causing a gasp to leave you.

as he admires you now; sitting pretty in his lap in only his shirt, logan wonders how he had the strength to leave you in the first place.

hands wander over his freshly shaved face, stubble like soft needles against your fingertips. your head has a mind of its own, and suddenly your lips are brushing his. once. twice. a third time. soft and slow.

there’s something new in the air now. your heart is pounding, and you wonder if he can feel it beating through your chest and into his own. there’s a split second of silent eye contact before logan lurches forward.

there’s hunger behind his kiss. a certain lust behind his tongue making its way to yours. your hips swivel in search of friction. hands tangled in his hair, pulling in a way that’s so familiar it makes logan groan into your mouth; already aware of what tonight will bring.

his hands are traveling up your his shirt, rough fingers just barely making contact with your breasts. his touch lights you on fire, forcing you to break apart, head tilting back in a whimper.

logan takes that as his cue, and suddenly you’re in the air. one of his hands on your lower back securing you to him, the other cradling the underside of your knee.

you latch your other leg behind his waist as he walks out of the bathroom. your lips reconnected, eager to make up for the lost time.

you recognize the softness of your mattress against your back as logan lies you down gently. his mouth continues its assault, a trail of wet kisses down your jaw and side of your throat. he can feel your pulse drumming frantically under his lips, and he has to bite back a smirk at the effect he seemed to have on you.

your reaching your hands down to unclasp his belt when….ring. ring. ring. you feel the vibration against his pants and you think you might die if you have to stop right now.

you both pause in your actions. logan let out a gruff “you gotta be jokin’” as he stands up straight, leaving you lying on the bed.

he pulls his phone from his pocket, eyeing the caller id, scott summers. he’d been the third member of the x-men to try and get ahold of him. fuck can’t a guy have a day off?

he looks away from the phone, shifting his eyes to you. you’re sprawled beautifully on the bed. hair fanned around your head, cheeks flushed red with a devious smile to match. his eyes follow your body down to your legs. they’re spread wide for him, and he watches in shock as you let a hand slide between your thighs, swirling a couple slow circles on your clit through soaked panties.

you throw your head back and call his name, and that’s enough for him. logan tosses his phone over his shoulder, leaning down and crawling in between your legs.

“they’re gonna have to come pry me from this fucking bed, doll. i’m not goin’ nowhere.”

god it was good to be home.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Nobody Important

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> When you first meet Logan you tell him you’re nobody important. But it soon becomes clear you are a lot more important than you say. 

Disclaimer: Contains descriptions of nightmares, couple of swear words, being drugged (nothing bad, just some chamomile tea). Mostly fluff moments with a hint of angst. I watched X-Men and wanted to write something for him. Reader has powers though they're not specified fully. Not Proof Read.

When Charles told Logan someone was going to pick him up from the airport, the last person he expected was, well, you. 

Compared to the pristine and fancy cars that were held at the school garage, you pulled up in a beat up old station wagon that looked like it had seen more than a couple of scratches in its time. And you weren’t dressed…like the rest of them. 

Rather than in some kind of pant-suit combo, you were wearing a long sleeve t-shirt, jeans, boots and a heavy brown leather overcoat. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late. Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.” You began immediately as you stepped out onto the curb and rushed towards him. “I was at the back of the forest collecting some berries and lost track of time. Shall we get going?”

Logan looked you over. You seemed a lot more…energetic than he was. 

“Who are you?”

“Professor X sent me. To collect you. You are Logan, aren’t you?”

“That depends. Who are you?”

“Your ride to the school, unless you plan on walking for two hours in the freezing cold.”

Logan grunted and threw his bag into the backseat. You still hadn’t answered his question but the licence plate of your car matched that of the one Charles had told him to look out for. 

However, fifteen minutes into the drive, Logan asked once more. “Who are you?”

You smiled and looked at him for a moment before moving your gaze back to the road ahead. “Nobody important.”

“Okay, fine. What are you?”

You smiled again. “Nothing you need to be concerned about.”

“Alright, listen bub-”

“Logan, whatever information about me you think you’re gonna have me tell you; it’s not gonna happen. I work with Charles and that’s all you need to know.”

Logan furrowed his brows. “So you’re a telepath? Like him?”

“You don’t need to concern yourself with what or even who I am. But,” you reached down and pulled a file from the driver's side door before turning it over on the steering wheel and handed it over to him. “You should concern yourself about this.”

Logan took it, a little confused, and opened it up. 

“He wants you to know what you’re walking into when we get back.”

After that, the rest of the drive was silent save for one question from Logan, only to have you reply with; 

“All the answers you’re looking for are either in there or are with the Professor.”

He didn’t bother asking you another question after that. Not that you would have answered it anyway. 

Once you finally did pull up to the school, it seemed you were beside him one minute and went the next into some unknown corner of the school because he didn’t see you after that. 

But he still had questions. 

Unanswered questions. 

Like who the hell were you? 

A week later, he still didn’t have his answers. But he did run into you again. 

In the kitchens. 

The entire place was a lot messier than the communal kitchen. It looked like some mix between a witches cottage and a mess hall in a school cafeteria. But it didn't smell as bad. 

Instead it smelt of cinnamon, oranges, rosemary and cookies. 

And somehow

It was relaxing to him. 

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Logan looked up to find you standing at the other end of the kitchen, a bowl under one arm and a spoon in the other. Flour was dusted across your face and your hands were splotched with food colouring stains. Which matched the batch of rainbow coloured cookies behind you. 

“Err, no. I was just-”

“Here, sit. I’ll make you some tea.”

“I don’t really drink..tea.” 

Logan was still taking in the room. Every time he looked back to a spot, he found a new detail to it. Extra herbs, or ingredients, or even flowers. 

You smiled, placing down the bowl and spoon before moving across the kitchen to the simmering pot on the stove. 

“Here, try this.”

“Oh, I, uh-”

“Just drink it.” You sighed a little, with a light smile. Nobody would have to meet Logan to know he wasn’t a tea drinker. But he was also polite enough to accept a drink. 

And he did. 

“Is this where you work?”

You nodded, going back to the fresh batch of cookies you needed to start scooping out. 

“Do you usually work this late past midnight?”

You chuckled a little to yourself. “Sometimes. Mostly it’s because I think of a new recipe and want to try it out when no-one's gonna disturb me.”

“Am I disturbing you?”

“No. Plus, I heard you coming down the stairs. Figured it wouldn’t be long before you found another night owl.”

Logan grunted with a soft chuckle. “I don’t think it’s intentional being a night owl.”

You shrugged. “We all have our reasons.”

Logan nodded and took another gulp of his tea. If he thought he felt relaxed when he walked into the kitchen, he didn’t have a word for what he was feeling after the tea. 

“Hey, what’s in this tea?”

“Not much. Chamomile mostly.”

Logan nodded. But then something shifted. He was getting drowsy. Not relaxed. Not sleepy. Drowsy. 

“Hey, what did you put in this?”

Logan went to stand and repeat his question, but he was out like a light before he could finish. 

Logan, for the first time…ever, woke up slowly. From the light that came flooding in through his window, to slowly turning over and feeling the bones in his body crack just right to allow his joints to feel at ease, to not thinking a thing as his brain slowly turned back into gear. 

Then he jerked up. 

With a grunt, he looked around him. 

He was in his room. 

The last thing he could remember was your tea and the kitchen. 

Flinging the covers from him, he tore his way out of his room and down the hallways until he finally reached his destination. 

The Professor’s office. 

Walking inside, he found the situation entirely too calm. 

“Ah, good morning Logan. Glad to see you’re finally awake.”

“What the hell happened?” 

“You fell asleep. Y/n helped put you to bed before you collapsed on her kitchen floor.”

Logan turned at that moment to find you sat on the sofa by the window inside the office. 

“You.” Logan practically snarled. “You did something. What did you do?”

Logan approached you but where anyone else would have flinched, you didn’t. In fact, all you did was sit back further and smile up at him. 

“She didn’t do anything, Logan. You needed to sleep.”

Logan turned and looked at the Professor. “Don’t mean I have to be drugged.”

Then you stood. “It was just a little tea, Logan. The more exhausted you are, the faster and harder it works. But now you look more rested. Your skin looks less like you’ve been thrown into a washing machine for a couple spins.”

“Are you always this blunt?”

You smiled. “It’s part of my charm.”

“Ain’t nothing charming about this conversation, doll.”

“Really? Because I’m finding this thrilling.”

Professor X smiled. “Okay, that’s enough, you two.”

“She started it!”

You just smiled again. “You’re welcome. If you ever need more tea, you know where to find me.”

With a pat to his arm, you walked past him and said your goodbyes to the professor before heading for the door. 

“Don’t worry about it, you can keep your tea.”

“Have to admit, though. I did help.”

Internally, reluctantly, he did have to. Because despite everything, it was one of the best nights of sleep he’d ever had. 

Another week rolled by and despite Logan doing everything he could to avoid the woman that he still considered had drugged him to sleep, he seemed to see more of you. 

Turns out, you taught cooking and baking classes to the students so they could at least make themselves a decent meal every once in a while instead of quick ramen noodles. And you also taught outdoor survival skills which Xavier had Logan help sub in with. 

But this also meant, much to his chagrin, Logan was actually starting to like you. 

Rather than wanting to storm off in the other direction, he wasn’t annoyed by your presence in the room anymore and you definitely had a way with teaching a group of rowdy teenagers who would rather do anything other than learn normal “camp” things. 

It was actually entertaining watching you teach your students. And even he learnt a thing or two.

Another week passed and Logan found himself back in your kitchen, sitting at the kitchen island, watching you as you lent one palm on the counter top, a pencil between your teeth and two pens behind one of your ears. 

“Want some tea?” You asked him after a few minutes of content silence. 

“Are you going to drug me again?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s store bought, Logan. I just added a couple extra things.”

“Really, like what?”

Sighing, with a slight smirk, you turned around and pulled the box of tea from the cabinet before throwing it at Logan from over your shoulder. “Read it. It tells you what to add.”

“They actually sell this stuff?”

You turned back to your messy notebook with a smile. “It helps when your grandmother worked in the tea business for forty years. All the tricks of the trade, passed down through generations.”

Logan watched you work- no, dance around the kitchen. You didn’t even have to look at what you were doing and before he knew it, there was another tea in front of him, in a glass mug with hand-painted roasting logs on it. 

Logan looked at it for a moment and then you spoke up, without looking in his direction. “Being a night owl means different hobbies can be created. Glass painting was one of them.”

Logan shrugged with a nod before drinking his tea. The effects weren’t as quick or as “violent” as the first time. Instead, it was calming, then relaxing, then just plain and simple tiredness. 

“Go to bed, Logan. Before you crash into my floor again.”

“How did you get me to bed the last time? I’m not exactly all flesh and blood.”

You shrugged. “I’m stronger than I might look to you. But, go to bed, Logan.”

“Will you?”

“Will I do what?”

“Go to bed, too?”

You turned and faced him. “Soon. I want to finish this up first.”

“What are you even doing?”

“New recipe. I shouldn’t be long. Look, I promise. Twenty minutes, I’ll be in my bed, fast asleep.”

Logan raised his brow for a moment but then stood. If he waited any longer, he might actually crash onto the floor again. 

“Okay, fine.”

And you stuck to your word. Logan heard your footsteps coming up the stairs less than ten minutes later and after that…he didn’t remember much other than just complete calmness and sleep. 

The next couple of nights followed the same pattern. And even if he still wasn’t a tea drinker, Logan was growing a (small) taste for it. 

Until one night he walked in and found you stood in the corner, changing your t-shirt. 

You already wore a cami top underneath most of your t-shirts anyway – especially in the kitchen, but your first one had gotten too messy. So you were safe when changing. Except, you hadn’t expected Logan to walk in when he did. 

He paused for a minute by the door, a little apprehensive to make himself known but also trying to do so, so it wouldn’t seem like he was just watching you change your top t-shirt. But at the same time, he didn’t want you to know he was standing there because he could finally look at you. 

More so, when he saw your shoulder. 

From your left shoulder spread and faded over the top and to your right, a mark similar to a burn. The skin was scarred, yet healed over. A forgotten memory. The strap of your top cut through the larger scar that ran directly across the middle of the scarred skin, almost in a wave. Parts were redder than others but you didn’t seem to be in pain as you pulled the t-shirt over the top of your head and down your body, covering it back up. 

Logan coughed as he entered and you turned around, greeting him as you did every night. 

“New recipe?”

You nodded, looking at the messy t-shirt in your hand. “Yeah, it didn't go over too well with the mixer.”

“Better luck next time.”

And then you both just…talked. 

You were slowly telling him a little more about yourself each night, even if you didn’t know it yet. 

“I just remember being thrown into the wall and waking up like an hour later, completely covered in green brownie batter.”

You both laughed as you told him the story, but then he asked. 

“Is that where the scar is from? On your back?”

It was almost as if you had forgotten about it, having to take a moment to realise what he was talking about.

“Oh, that. No, that…that’s nothing important.”

Logan knew to drop his line of questioning. If you said it was nothing important, then there was no way of getting you to talk about it. 

Until the day he found you napping on the sofa. 

Everyone was outside for the day considering it was winter break and fresh snow had finally fallen on the ground. Except, you had opted to stay inside, and fell asleep on one of the central sofas in one of the quieter communal areas. 

The large windows let a lot of natural light flood in, and the fire that was crackling away in the fireplace was enough to heat the room, especially when the door was closed. 

And it wasn’t long before the quiet hum of the fire and odd crackle of the wood, mixed with the heat and your lack of sleep, overtook you and you fell asleep. You didn’t even wake when your book dropped from your hand and onto the floor. 

“Hey, Y/n, they’re all-”

Logan stopped in his tracks when he saw you. 

Fast asleep. 

He was careful to remain quiet as he walked over to you, cutting between you and the coffee table to pick up your fallen book and place it safely onto the table, where he sat on the edge and took a minute to just…memorise you. 

Since he met you, you had done nothing but be moving. All the time. From the crack of dawn to nightfall, you were constantly going and running and teaching and baking and doing and…hell, for all he knew, you could be something other than mutant or human – even those two needed sleep at some point. 

Hell, even he needed sleep. 

But you were just constantly forever going. 

Lay on your left side, your elbow tucked under your head, you were lightly snoring. Logan brushed the stray hairs that had fallen in front of your face, away, his hand rested on your cheek for a moment, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone for a second. 

You were fast asleep. 

Your worn Beatles band-tee was twisted slightly around your middle, whilst the waist of your jeans had twisted in the opposite direction a little, leaving a small gap that showed Logan the redness from the indent marks of where you had been lay, probably, on your other hip for a while. 

Logan thought about covering you up, and leaving you where you were, for a moment. But he also knew you could be like him when it came to sleep. And it was best to get it when you could. So, rather than chance the kids coming back in and waking you up, he made a decision. 

You flinched a little in your sleep as he spoke to you and lifted you from the sofa. It wasn’t long before he found your room and laid you into bed before covering you up. 

Once more, he brushed the hair from your eyes as you turned onto your side again. 

He looked around for a moment before finding what he was looking for. 

A heavy blanket. 

He lay it over the top of your bedcovers and you, before moving across the room to light the fireplace. 

Only, as he did so and placed the fireguard in front, you whimpered. 

He turned around but you were still. 

Then you whimpered again. 

“No,” you whispered. 

Logan moved over to you quickly and quietly as he could. You fell silent again. 

He let out a small breath and covered you up a little more before leaning down. He didn’t know why, but he pressed a small kiss to your temple before walking away. 

Except you reached out for his hand. 

Logan looked down at his hand that was connected with yours, then to you. You were still asleep. 

But it didn’t look like it was a good dream. 

You were shaking. Your entire body seemed to be paralysed with fear, all the while you were mumbling words Logan just couldn’t quite make out. 

Then the glass of water by your bed started shaking. Then the table it was on. Then your bed. Then the floor. Whatever was happening to you was spreading throughout your room. 

A picture that had been hanging on the wall outside, fell to the floor. 

Quickly turning back to you, Logan took hold of your shoulder. He kept calling your name but it was like you couldn’t hear him. 

“Please…please don’t hurt them. Please.” You screamed and then grunted in pain. Whatever was happening in your nightmare, you were being hurt. Badly. 

“Hey, Y/N! Hey, you’re okay! You’re safe! You’re in New York. You’re at school! It’s not real, Y/N. None of it is real.”

Your head shifted. You were searching. 

“I’m right here. None of it is real. You need to wake up.”

“L…Logan?” 

The violent shaking in your room slowed for a moment.

He was shocked. Maybe…

“Just follow my voice. It’s just a nightmare. I can’t get into your head and bring you out. Just…follow my voice.”

The shaking around your room gradually slowed, but you still were. Then your eyes opened. 

And glowed. 

They were still your eyes just…brighter. 

“Logan?!”

He had stopped speaking. You were panicking. 

“It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m right here.” Logan took hold of your hand and held it tighter. “You’re safe.”

The shaking slowed and your eyes closed again. 

Then everything stopped. 

Everything went silent. 

Logan looked at the glass of water beside your bed. It was like it had never moved. 

Then you gasped and shot up from your bed. You kicked your legs and brought your hands behind you to push yourself up and the covers from you. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, hey, Y/n. Hey,” 

You were gasping for breath, dizzy from your nightmare. 

“Hey, it’s me. Whoa. Hey, look at me. It’s Logan.”

He took you by your shoulders then your face. 

“It’s Logan.”

You finally calmed a little, and he watched your eyes search his entire face until you finally recognised him. 

“Logan,” you breathed. 

“Yeah…”

Your shoulders relaxed and you leaned closer to him, wrapping your arms around him. His hand held the back of your head and his other round your back, pressing you further into him. He could still feel your body trembling. 

“What happened?”

“You had a nightmare.” Logan told you. “The room started shaking and I tried waking you up.”

You took a couple of breaths before moving back and pushed the hair from your face and curled your legs up closer to your chest. 

Logan, sat beside them, placed one of his hands on your knee and the other in your right hand. 

“What happened?”

You shook your head. “Nothing-”

“The entire room started shaking and your eyes glowed. That’s not ‘nothing important’, Y/n.”

You swallowed and nodded your head before dropping your gaze and shifting until you were sat up, crossed-legged. 

Logan remained where he was, sat on the edge of your bed. 

“Before I worked as a teacher and cook here, I was one of them.” The last four words came out slowly, almost like you had to convince yourself you were saying them out loud. “I was an X-Man. I was a part of the team.”

“So what happened?”

“The usual. A mission gone wrong.”

“And that’s what the nightmares…”

You nodded. “It was the mission that made me retire. They needed me to do a job, and I couldn’t do it. There were kids, mutants, being held captive. Some rich dick thought he could duplicate mutants. As the team went it, I was meant to be holding ground outside, helping them find their way through. Only, I didn’t shut off my power. We knew they had someone who could detect me if I didn’t. I got so focused on trying to find the kids, trying to make sure the team got to them that the team almost…”

You paused for a minute. You hadn’t told anyone this story. Ever. 

Logan took your hand. “It’s okay. It’s just me.”

You let Logan’s touch soak into your skin. A memory you’d never forget yet never truly remember why you never would forget. 

“They almost died, Logan.” You looked at him and he could see the tears behind your eyes, threatening to come forward and fall again. “Everyone almost died, because I didn’t shut it down. You asked about the scar, the one on my back?”

Logan nodded. He didn’t like where this was going. 

“It’s from that day. One of their scientists had set off some kind of power..thing. Sent me flying blocks away from where I was supposed to be. I crash landed into some old wooden panelling which knocked me down. But once I got up…their Superhuman had found me.”

“Was he the one that-”

You nodded, remembering it as if it was yesterday. “I was thrown, this time on my front. I tried to get up but then all I felt was pure fire. He was burning me. Giving me a reminder of why ‘someone like me, born with the powers of gods’ shouldn’t have them when I was clearly so ‘weak’. By the time he stopped, I realised where he was going. And by the time I got up, everything just…blew up.”

“Y/n, everyone’s safe. You’re all here. Don’t you teach some of those kids?”

You nodded. “Doesn’t mean I don’t forget that feeling. One of the kids had been watching the guards, tracking their materials to find a way out. If they hadn't done that…they wouldn’t have gotten out, Logan. And they almost didn’t. All because I couldn’t fight. I can’t be the reason why I lose my family and the people I love.”

The tears came forward now, streaming down your face at an unstoppable speed. 

“I just can’t.”

Logan shook his head, pushing himself closer to you to hold you. And you let him. Leaning into him, you felt his arms grow tighter around your body. There was a small security in his arms, one that you hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“None of that was your fault.” Logan told you. “I know you and I know this team. You would never intentionally hurt people. And forgetting to turn your powers off? We’ve all made mistakes in moments like that. Sometimes you get so focused on one person, you tend to lose all sense of self. But none of that was your fault. They got out. They’re all here. They’re all alive. And rich dick is spending his life as dust in the fucking wind.”

“Believe me, I’ll be the first to tell you changing your feelings on something won’t stop the nightmares.” Logan continued. “But you need to find a way to let it go. Don’t let them control you. Not when you won. Not when you’re here, with everyone, able to drug me with some store bought tea.”

You laughed a little at that, wiping your tears away before Logan did the same thing, brushing his thumb underneath your eye and across your cheek. Logan smiled a little. Others might have called it a muscle flex, but knowing Logan; it was a small, brief smile. 

“Don’t let them win.”

You nodded, your head still in his hands. 

“Logan? Will you…Can you stay?”

It seemed to take Logan a second to find his answer. What you couldn’t see was that most of that time, he was trying to figure out why his answer came as fast as it did for him. 

“You don’t-”

“I can stay.”

You looked up at him and nodded with a slight smile. 

Moments later, Logan had kicked his shoes off and was lying beside you in bed. 

“Logan?”

“Yeah?”

You took his hand that lay between you both and turned your head to look at him. 

“Thank you for staying.”

It was his turn to turn his head and when he did, he felt something. The same feeling he’d been getting since the day you gave him his first cup of tea. 

Logan just nodded before lifting his arm. “Come here.”

You moved closer to him as he lifted the covers a little so you could do so. Then he dropped his arm around your back, his palm flush against its centre before it slid a little lower to hold you by your waist. 

As your head settled close to his chest, he dropped his head a little, leaning his jaw against the top of your head and as he felt you relax and close your eyes, he did the same thing. 

The moment your breathing became even, and he knew you were asleep, Logan settled back down and held you just a little tighter against him as he closed his eyes and joined you in a dreamless sleep. 

Hours passed and Charles hadn’t seen either you or Logan in hours. But when he spotted a picture frame that had fallen onto the floor, just outside of your room, he sped as quickly as he could down the hall, but paused when he saw the door open and a sight he didn’t think he’d get to witness for at least a few more months. 

From the hallway, Charles peered in to find the snow falling heavily outside of your window. The children and other teachers were still outside playing. The fire had died down a little, but even he could feel the heat from the room. 

And in the middle of the left hand wall through the door, was your bed. 

Where yourself and Logan slept soundly, almost as one. With your face and hand on his chest, and his arm around your waist, whilst his other hand held onto your arm in a soft grip, keeping your hand on him. 

Xavier could practically feel the serenity oozing from the pair of you. He knew Logan was troubled and that you yourself hadn’t felt safe or content in a long time. 

And he would never have to tell Logan of the change you brought to him, or the one he brought to you. The change that helped you feel safe again, content again. Happy again. Without the added feeling that something was about to go off kilter. 

Because Logan already knew. 

And so did you. 

And for Logan, no matter how many times you would tell him you were “nobody important”, you would always be important to him. 

[blkkizzat]

❛ MY SHORTY ALWAYS ON SOME BULLSHIT LIKE CHICAGO ❜

PART 2

part of the 420 'We Be Burnin' series

⋙ MENU ITEM: PLUG!CHOSO x SORORITYBRAT!READER ⋙ PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 (completed)

⋙ product description (summary): okay so you finally realized how badly you fucked up. but is it too late? will choso even talk to you now? has he moved on for good or is it that you now have to worry about someone else moving onto him? ⋙ side effects (tw): more drama. more angst. teasing. jealousy. thirsting. mentions of sex and oral sex. intoxication with drug & alcohol use. sending nudes. y/n is still a brat. bitchy sorority sisters. party culture. ⋙ thc levels (wc): 8.2k of 22.1k ⋙ inventory notes (a/n): best viewed in dark mode. i appreciate y'all liking this sm hope you don't mind i split this up more, but the second part was getting too unruly in length lol

Plug!Choso who you thought forgetting about would be relatively easy. Overwhelmed with the sheer amount of new presidential duties, you had no shortage of various meetings to keep you occupied. Even so, Choso had a way of popping into your mind as the most routine things would remind you of him. 

You couldn’t go get a fresh set of nails without expecting to see his tinted blacked-out sedan parked outside waiting for you. Scrolling socials had also become annoying as you’d see a post and immediately want to send it to Choso— your sorority sisters would think you were gross if you sent them mukbang videos. You couldn’t even bake anything anymore, especially anything chocolate, without reminding yourself of how much Yuji hated nuts in his chocolate chip cookies. 

Or even now when you had been walking across campus with your sisters and chatting about the massive proposal plan of next year’s sorority activities. A daunting task on its own which you had to submit to your national chapter by the end of the month. In fact, there were a lot of tedious things you realized you’d now be responsible for as president. 

However, all of that flew out of your mind when a car sped by blasting a familiar rock song— one that Choso always played. 

Stopping in your tracks you whipped your head around but the music was coming from a completely different car. The disappointment in your chest felt like you were suffocating.

The song was the first one from Choso’s ‘stoner emo boy playlist’ that you’d actually admitted you liked so he made sure to play it whenever you came around. You didn’t think you were official enough to have a song, but it felt like you did when you’d heard it just now. 

Although what pained you more in the moment was the fact Choso hadn’t even bothered to text you since the day of the brunch. Your pride and guilt kept you from texting him initially but after the first week you caved and did what you once thought was unthinkable— texting a guy first. 

You’d thought he’d answer instantly, happy you’d finally forgiven him for nearly ruining your brunch and you did want to apologize for missing Yuji’s game. But when 20 minutes turned into an hour and an hour turned into the entire day you realized he was ignoring you.

Choso was a dealer. 

He always had his phone on him. In fact, Choso used to respond to you so fast you wondered if he’d always kept your messages up on his screen.

The seriousness hits home when more of your texts go unanswered as the days go by. 

You huffed. 

Two weeks had passed since you first reached out and apparently Choso was still giving you the cold shoulder. Unconsciously chewing on your manicured french tips, your intrusive thoughts paint the absolute worst scenarios. 

This was around the time of day he’d usually be on campus and you’d meet up in the empty garage. 

Would he be there now doing another deal? 

Or giving ‘discounts’ to another girl?

You shook your head. Choso wasn’t like that. 

You knew he wasn’t.

Then again he had stuffed your guts in less than 10 minutes of knowing each other.

But you were the exception right? Choso wouldn’t move on just like that, would he? 

Rejection wasn’t something you had dealt with often in your life or well, ever. 

You’d gotten everything you wanted since you were little whether it was something you worked for or something given to you. 

So what if you didn’t have Choso?

You should be content with life. 

You had everything you’d ever wanted right now. 

You were pretty, got damn near perfect grades and now had the title of sorority president for fuckssake! 

Meeting someone like Choso was never part of your plans and didn’t fit into them either, so you had never really considered what the both of you were to be anything long-term. 

Nor did you ever stop to consider what he thought of your relationship. 

You thought he’d lick his wounds for a few days and forgive you. However with each passing day the thought he might really be done with you sinks in more and more.

Regardless of the legion of frat guys who would jump at the chance to date you, the only guy you really wanted right now apparently wanted fuck all to do with you. 

Ok so maybe you deserve the silent treatment. 

A lot. 

You never been that big of a bitch to him before. But you really had panicked when he showed up out of the blue with your parents on the way! Also if he didn’t go and threaten the DJ like he did???

You sighed. 

No, even under more peaceful circumstances the end result was you weren’t going to leave to go to Yuji’s game. You couldn’t blame him for being furious with you as you knew how protective he was of his younger brother but you at least wish he’d hear you out.

Just for one last time and maybe you could make it up to Yuji too? 

Get him a nice gift for missing his little league game and bake him chocolate chip cookies—without the nuts. You wanted to hear him adorably ramble on which would always be accompanied by animated hand movements while he gave you the rundown. Yuji often roped in Choso as well, who would be all too happy to play whatever role or prop Yuji needed him for. 

Their identical grins, goofy and filled with joy never failed to put a smile on your face. A smile which came easy as there was never any demands put on you when you were with them. No pretending for the sake of appearances, no worrying about social standing and no expectations for favors. 

With them you were just you and they had accepted you.

But had you accepted them? 

Shit. 

Yeah you had fucked up big. 

You knew you needed to talk to Choso and if you weren’t all but certain Choso would slam the door in your face, you’d have half a mind to go pop up at his house. 

Although maybe if Yuji ans—

“—Like HELLO!? Earth to Prez!”

Your train of thought abruptly comes to an end when one of your sorority sisters—Brianna—rudely snaps their fingers in your face. 

Bitch. 

She’d been bitter ever since she’d lost the presidency to you. 

Elections were over so you didn't have to worry about staying on everyone's good side like you had been doing for the last 3 years of being super sweet and non confrontational. Even so, snatching up a fellow sister certainly wouldn’t make a good impression for a newly appointed president.

“What IS it Brie!?” 

Turning to face her you had no choice but to keep your cool.

“Don’t give me attitude! You’re the one not paying attention, space case.”  

Brianna huffed accusingly. 

“Yeah, Brie’s kinda right Prez, you’ve been a little bit distracted lately.” 

Another one of your sisters chimed in—immediately looking down when your eyes narrowed on her.

“Don't tell me the pressure is already getting to ‘Little Miss Legacy'? Or—”

Brianna flips her hair with a sly smile before continuing.

“—is it just that you miss your burnout stalker boy?” 

“E-Excuse me!?”

Extremely disarmed by the allegation, you were not expecting in a million years the very person you were thinking of to be brought up like this by Brianna of all people. 

“You know—you’ve been acting off since the brunch a few weeks ago and we used to be practically swimming in za—way more o’s than we paid for. You must have been doing something to get all that from that future convict and he must be pretty pissed with you if you haven’t been able to get anymore since.”

The rest of your sisters were gagged at the accusations Brianna was tossing your way as it was true that your supply had been dwindling. Their eyes darted between the two of you but mostly focused on you waiting for your response. 

You ignore them though as all your ire was on Brianna.

This whore had some fucking nerve speaking about Choso like that. 

The thought of knocking the smug look off Brianna’s face is almost too tempting —presidency be damned. 

Yet your own guilt stops you.

Too little, much too late for you to be standing up for Choso now the way you had dismissed him so harshly in front of Brianna and the rest of your sisters just a few weeks ago. You could only be mad at yourself, your own actions showed them how to treat Choso.

That didn’t mean you were going to let her get away with it without a proper lashing though. 

“Listen—Brie, Little Miss Legacy is busy juggling the presidency, a 3.8 gpa, volunteer work and planning every goddamn sorority event worth attending. As for you? Well I heard you’d been pretty busy these days juggling your creepy ass T.A. Noaya’s balls because you were going to fail Biology again for the third time—so do you really want to talk about pressure or whose fucking whom for what?”

Standing up for yourself wasn’t something you ever did in an effort to be likable and so Briana, as well as the rest of your sisters, were stunned into silence. 

Even if her fucking for grades had been no secret, it wasn’t something anyone talked about out loud and yet you’d gladly air her out again for insulting Choso.

“Urgh, whatever! Anyways while you were daydreaming we were planning Jeremy's birthday party on Saturday.”

You rolled your eyes at the inattention to some random frat guy’s bday being the reason for this whole confrontation.  

“Oookay and—?”

“—and we need you to get some more za from your stalk— er um, I mean your plug...” 

Brianna quickly corrects herself seeing your eyes flare.  

“Jermey wants a joint filled pinata and we don’t have nearly enough right now to roll all those joints.”

You suck your teeth in annoyance. 

Of course it all had to come back around to Choso.

“I’m not talking to him right now. We’ll find someone else.” 

Well it was half true, more like he wasn’t talking to you. 

You tried not to pout and completely give yourself away at how much it really was affecting you.

“Well start again, Prez! You know his stuff is the best!”

“We already promised everyone we’d have it!” 

“Please Prez!”

The rest of your sorority sisters chimed in.  

“Yeah Prez it shouldn’t be a problem. Send him an ass pic or something, I bet he would respond to that.” 

The rest of your sisters giggled in agreement. 

Little did they know you had already sent Choso nudes 8 days ago, which when you checked Snap last just 10 minutes ago he still hadn’t opened yet. 

You’d die before admitting that though.

“Fine. I’ll figure it out.” 

“Knew you would Prez!” 

Brianna tossed you a fake smile as she turned around and your sisters followed suit walking back towards the sorority house. The chatter now moves on to drink options as the previous conversation is instantly forgotten. 

You still flip the bitch off behind her back though before you catch up to join the conversation lest these dumb bitches skimp out on drinks for more decorations and have you all drinking Monarch vodka again—gross, much more so than a mukbang video.

Plug!Choso who later that night has you laying on your bed staring at your phone suspended over you, your finger hovering over the send button. 

What if he ignored you this time too? 

Worse—what if he had finally blocked you?

Well all your messages had gone through so far even though his read receipts were off. 

Choso hadn’t blocked you yet. 

Only two days had passed since you last texted him but scrolling through your history the wall of blue taking over the entire screen had you feeling vexed.

Hadn’t Choso punished you enough? 

Biting your lip in apprehension you hit send. 

You almost dropped your phone on your face. Sitting up in your bed you stare at his text incredulously as the sticker shock of Choso jacking up the price by $150 hits you.

You deserved that, you supposed. 

But fuck you knew you’d have to come up out of pocket yourself for the extra and you couldn’t admit to your sisters why the price had gone up so much again.

At least he was answering you though. 

You threw your phone across your bed. 

Well that went super. 

You’d hope you’d have the chance to talk about things while he was responding to you, maybe get him to video call you? You knew he still wouldn’t be thrilled with you but you didn’t expect his responses to be that short once he finally answered. 

Choso always over texted you if anything, sending paragraphs at times so these clipped messages were like tiny daggers pricking you with each one you received.  

You didn’t think you could handle him being mean to you like this for much longer. 

Getting a taste of your own medicine fucking sucked.

With a sigh you had decided to push it to the back of your mind. It was Tuesday and he wasn’t even coming until Friday.

That’s when you realized Choso implied he was coming to you. 

As in your sorority house. 

On Friday. 

The night of the Barbie’s Dreamhouse Kegger. 

Goddamnit.

Plug!Choso who shows up to your sorority house on Friday night just before midnight when the kegger is at its peak. Choso doesn’t give a single fuck this time around that he sticks out like a sore thumb with his dark tattered jeans, matching leather jacket, heavy eyeliner and metal piercings amongst all the colorful and peppy pastel attired party-goers. 

Choso waltzes right through the front door like he owns the place.

“Oh! It's you! Finally!” 

Flipping her hair behind her to show off her ample cleavage, your sorority sister Brianna bounces over to Choso who continues to look past her as his eyes scan the foyer.

To be honest he wasn’t even sure she was talking to him until she mentioned you.

“You’re the plug, right? Choso? Here for Prez, hmm?” 

Brianna appraised Choso with a flirty glance and a smile. 

“I’m Brianna, but everyone calls me Brie. She’s outside with her boys! I’ll take you there, kay?”

Her boys?

Brianna batts her eyes sweetly to complement her peppy demeanor. 

Choso simply nods, appearing unphased as Brianna grabs him by the arm of his jacket to lead him through the sea of people crowding the hall and out to the backyard. The very same backyard where you had rejected and humiliated him to save your own superficial social standing just a few weeks ago. 

Of course he hadn’t forgotten. 

Choso noted this time though the expansive yard had a completely different vibe from the pretentious scene he’d walked into before. The backyard was now filled with pink inflatable decorations and rose gold plastered party supplies, trading the expensive crystal for matching pink solo cups and decorative flower displays for shotskis. 

Yet Choso’s comparisons end once he finally spots you in the crowd. 

Playing beer pong with some frat fucks, carefree like you had zero concerns (or thoughts of him) in the world as you taunted your opponents. 

Choso’s eyes narrow when you—clad in a scandalously small pink sparkly tube top—brought a dainty manicured nail to your chest and seductively dragged it down your cleavage to tug at the hem of the fabric. The tops of your tits swell over the edge of the material provocatively as you tease the chance they might altogether spill out onto the table if you pulled any lower.

The plan worked and your opponents thoroughly distracted missed their shots much to your amused squeals and Choso’s growing irritation. His brow twitched as he noticed the rest of your outfit which barely provided any more coverage. 

The matching mini skirt you wore rested low enough on your curvy hips to show the very edges of your thong but high enough on your thighs that your cheeks were nearly peeking out just from the slight bend you took as you aimed to take your next shot. Your pink jeweled belly ring (that he’d bought you) and gem adorned nude fishnets lead down to chunky hot pink glitter pumps only calling more attention to your lower half as they were illuminated by the outdoor tiki lights.

Why were you dressed like such a slut and letting those greasy shitheads drool all over you? 

Your beer pong partner was clearly exaggerating his drunkenness for an excuse to feel you up as his hand rested dangerously close to the top of your ass as you took your next shot. 

Were you that clueless?

Choso’s jaw clenches as you allow yourself to be pulled in by the shoulder tits first into a celebratory hug after landing a cup off a bounce, thus removing two. The way you’d casually let those assholes gawk and grab at you when you wouldn’t even make eye contact with him in public pisses him off like none other and reminds him why he had decided to cut you off after all.

This time though Choso doesn’t march over, masking his resentment with nonchalance as he considers leaving altogether. 

Sure he needed the money—but it wouldn’t make or break him in the long run. 

Keeping the big picture in mind, Choso had Yuji to think of and he couldn’t afford to catch a case over your slutty ass if he actually gave into the urge to knock some random frat fucker’s teeth out.

Yet Choso switches his attention back to Brianna when she returns with a beer filled cup for him and her sheer top unbuttoned even lower. 

Oh? 

Choso grins. 

Plug!Choso who you finally notice standing near the back door of your sorority house next to—Brianna?!…urgh! 

Her obnoxious high-pitched laughter loudly cut through the music and party chatter to draw your attention over. 

What the hell was Choso even doing with her?! 

You grit your teeth as Choso takes the drink. You watch as he reclines against the house and cheers cups together. Brianna is twirling her hair innocently as she flirts with him, giggling like an idiot. 

One without an ounce of shame at that. 

You seethe as she clutches onto his bicep pulling herself closer and resting her tits on his arm when she pretends to momentarily lose her balance. 

Stupid cunt ass bitch. 

You know it's just to spite you too. 

Of course Brianna still didn’t know of the true nature of your relationship with Choso for certain but a backstabbing whore like her would try to fuck him solely off an inkling. 

If anything just so she could say your ‘stalker’ was now hers.

She was just using him! Did Choso not see that?! 

Your beer pong partner slides his arm around you to tell you it’s your turn again but you don’t even spare him a backwards glance as you shrug him off. Abandoning the game and ignoring his puzzled calls after you. 

Truthfully it doesn’t even register as you are on your warpath with Choso and Brianna in your sights, stomping directly towards them like you were on a mission. You were too, as far as you were concerned, determined to break that shit up expeditiously. 

Especially now as you see Brianna airdropping her contact info to Choso.

Stopping directly in front of them you’re far too tipsy to prevent your souring mood from spreading all over your face when they both seem to not notice you right away.  

You loudly clear your throat.

“AHEM!”

Staring at Choso expectantly your lip curls when it's Brianna who greets you first instead.

“Oh Prez, my B girly! We didn’t notice you there!” 

“Whatever, Brie.”

You sneer at her. 

Although Brianna only giggles again, feigning innocence and leaning into Choso a bit more. 

The whore was still touching up on him.

“I was just keeping Cho here company until we found you.”

Bullshit, they were searching fo– Hol’ the fuck up—CHO?! 

Did this whore just call him Cho?! 

That was your fucking nickname for him! Only you and Yuji were allowed to call him that!

Oh Brianna was just begging for that ass whooping, dying for it even. 

Swaying on your feet, your buzz only intensifies your anger and folding your arms in front of you serves two purposes at the moment: 

To keep your balance as you try to prevent your heels from sinking into the grass— but more importantly— because the urge to yank a bitch was escalating to the point your hands were now twitching. 

You had drank way too much in your nervousness waiting for Choso.  

You thought a quick round of beer pong would settle your anxieties as you’d been hanging out near the front door all day and night not knowing when he’d show up. However time had slipped away from you and one game had turned into three. 

You didn’t even really know the guys you were playing with, just some random freshman!

Of course once you finally let your guard down Choso would not only show up but be hanging out with your biggest opp!

But what really had you about to crack—Choso was taking his sweet time in acknowledging you as he appeared to be more concerned with checking Brianna’s contact info than speaking to you right in front of him. “Ight, got it.” 

Choso confirmed and slid his phone back into his jacket before pulling out a joint as he finally made eye contact with you.

THE FUCK!? HE ACTUALLY SAVED IT?! 

Plug!Choso who stares at you with a condescending smirk as his eyes twinkled with sadistic amusement before exhaling smoke towards the sky.

You bite your cheek to hold back your angry tears, you weren’t about to give Brianna the satisfaction. She could fuck right the hell off as far as you were concerned, only wanting to speak to Choso who was currently looking at you like you were the one interrupting something.

“W-Why didn't you text me you were here?! I would have come outside!” 

Your words fumble out of you drunkenly, not sounding one bit as smooth and unbothered as you hoped.

“For why tho? Don’t you have me silenced anyway, Prez?”

You stiffened. 

Even if he wasn’t silenced right now you couldn’t deny you had previously silenced him before the last few weeks of trying to get him to talk to you. 

“Yea figured—so thought it’d be best to come inside…”

Choso exhales smoke through his nose this time, leering down at you as he passes the joint to Brianna who eagerly takes it.

“You really think I’m still tryna wait for you?”

Choso’s words are crushing as the double meaning behind them is not lost on you. Parting your glossed lips you couldn’t even form a sentence as your mouth had gone completely dry.

Brows raised Choso is practically daring you to challenge him. 

But you’re frozen. 

Ironic, because his eyes are all but intensely burning into yours as his accusingly cruel question penetrated you like a hot knife to butter. 

However, bringing you back, Brianna interrupts the moment—because of course she does—not being able to read the damn room nor handle the attention being away from her for 5 fucking seconds.

“You know Prez… You’re going to be pretty busy with all your responsibilities soon...”

Brianna taps her stiletto shaped nail to her lips in faux contemplation. Her smarmy expression gives away her true intentions resembling every bit of the evil bitch she is. 

“...Annnnnd it won’t look good for our lovely new president to put herself at risk by getting us drugs, right? Sooooo, I was telling Cho here how I’m going to be the one taking over for you now.”

Brianna coyly tucks a few loose strands of her long tawny locks behind her ear. 

“Who knows? I might be able to get a better discount than you too.”

Passing the blunt back to Choso she winks at him. Choso merely chuckles, shaking his head at the implications before taking another hit.

And yeah that’s what fucking did it alright.

More than ready to give Brianna exactly what the fuck she’d been asking for you wordlessly lunge forward to snatch her up by those raggedy ass microlink extensions she couldn’t stop touching.

However your trajectory is thrown when you feel Choso grab you by your wrist. Pulling you in towards him, the action confused both you and Brianna—who didn’t know how close she was to actually kissing dirt.

Choso passes the joint back to Brianna, telling her to keep it as a ‘sample’ he turns his attention back towards you.

“Come on Prez, I got places to be. Get me my money now before I charge your ass the full stack.”

You both leave Brianna standing there dumbfounded as Choso drags you back into the house. 

Plug!Choso guides you through the crowd of your sisters that are all now much too drunk and self-involved in their own good time to care about the pierced n’ scary dark haired man towing their president behind him. 

Reaching the staircase Choso motions for you to go ahead of him and you nod dumbly as you obediently climb the stairs trying not to trip. 

Urging you along, Choso is right on your tail— quite literally, as he tries to simultaneously avoid staring at your ass cheeks jiggling out from under your skirt—but more importantly tries to keep any other wandering eyes below from getting a peek as well. 

Choso places a hand on your waist, both to keep you from falling and to move you along quicker. Warm tingles radiate out from where his hands touch your bare skin yet he instantly releases you once you reach the top.

You can’t help but to pout at the loss of contact.

“Which one?”

Choso still feels all business though as he walks ahead of you like he can’t wait to wrap this up and get you the fuck out of his life again.

Plug!Choso who you usher into your room before closing the door. The party seems distant as only the faint sounds of the base bumping against the walls reach the sanctuary of your room. Still holding the knob you’re leaning with your back against the doorframe as your body is still pumping insane amounts of adrenaline through you. 

Nearly fighting Brianna, Choso finally touching you, on top of being drunk had your mind going into overdrive especially since it seemed like Choso would leave as soon as the deal was over.

Would he really take the money and go just like that?

Choso’s face is unreadable as he strolls deeper into your room and casually looks around. You had always come over to his place and he would have never in a million years dreamed of being able to see your room in your actual sorority house. 

It was so you though. 

Tidy and adorned in your favorite colors, your walls are decorated with pictures of celebrities, friends and various moodboards. Not to mention it smelled like you. The scent of your sugary perfume with notes of vanilla and saffron assaulted Choso's senses making it seem a bit warmer in the room than it actually was.

“Yo Prez, the money.” 

His patience for the situation is dwindling. He has to get out and fast. 

Choso doesn’t know what he’ll do if he doesn’t leave soon.

Yet you were plotting the exact opposite and you couldn’t let him leave so easily now that you finally had him alone after all this time. 

Armed with a plan you nod as you scoot by him and over to your vanity to retrieve the cash. Acting clueless as to which drawer you put it in, you search them all as you bend over to check one of the drawers at the very bottom. 

Choso swallows hard.

Your ass–with plenty of curves to spare–is on display for him as well as your sheer pink thong that teasingly pokes out between your crystal studded fishnets. 

You had to be doing this on purpose. 

Swishing side to side your skirt raises up a bit higher with every shift of your hips while your thong strains tighter across the print of your fat pussy lips threatening to snap altogether.

Akin to a seductive pendulum as you sway before Choso completely entrancing him. 

Only you could ever affect him in this way.

After what feels like years do you finally locate the money, a sizable stack of cash composed of 20 dollar bills.

“Found it! In the top drawer all along, imagine that!”

Smirking you plop down in your vanity chair crossing your legs not missing how Choso’s gaze lingered, even if just the tiniest moment, on your thighs.

“Took ya long enough…” 

Choso mumbles. There's no real bite to his words this time though. He’s holding his backpack close to hide his half chub while he removes 3 hefty bags of kush from his backpack to toss on the desk beside you.

Reaching for the cash his annoyance is evident on his face when you jerk away from him. Leaning back and fanning the bills across your chest, you wave them tauntingly in the air.

“Stop playin’ around. Not in the fuckin mood, I swear.”

“Playing?”

You question acting coy.

“This is just business right Choso?”

You sat up as if you were taking this seriously at all and Choso is unamused as he reaches for the money again. 

And you snatch it back yet again like a fucking brat. 

“I’m practically dropping a stack on this–thanks to your new “tax” and all. How do I know if it's any good?”

Clearly your plan is working as you continue to push Choso’s buttons pretending you aren’t excited from him towering over you now.

“Cut the games, Prez. Ya know my shit is always pressure.”

You act contemplative as your eyes lazily travel up his tense muscular form appreciating the view after not seeing him for so long.

“Hmmm, do I though?”

Choso scoffs, growing tired of your games. 

That’s all he ever was to you, a game.

“Like I said, just business. Or are you telling me you weren’t going to count the cash to make sure it's all there before you left?”

Damn. Well you got 'em there. 

Choso rubs the back of his neck before letting out a frustrated sigh.

“Tch—let’s make this quick then, Prez.”

Plug!Choso who after grabbing one of the bags of weed off your vanity takes a seat on your bed. He shrugs off his jacket to retrieve a pipe from the inner pocket and impatiently extends his hand hurrying you with a quick beckoning gesture.

“Gimme your grinder.”

Rolling your eyes you haphazardly toss it over to him. However, unbeknownst to you, the top was loose and crumbles of kush spilled out of it and onto your bed when he failed to catch it.

“Nice looking out Cho, great catch.”

Even though the poor throw and loose top had been your fault, the fact he apparently couldn’t wait to fucking leave along with you still pissed with how he flirted with Brianna makes you lash out. 

“You fucking serious right now? I’m always lookin’ out for your ungrateful ass.”

Obnoxiously you huff, crossing your arms and turning your head away from him.

Ungrateful? For what!? 

He hadn’t been ‘looking out’ for the last month, he’d been completely ignoring you! 

“Heh, like I didn't just stop you from turning that gouda chick into actual cheese from the way you went at her?”

You press your lips together firmly to keep from cracking a smile at his play on Brianna’s nickname. You’re honestly still salty he had even been around her at all getting so chummy. He’d always talked about how stupid your sorority sisters were, it didn’t make sense why he let her flirt with him like that.

You’re also mad he didn’t at least let you pop her one good time.

“The bitches name is Brie. You should know, you were ‘oh so concerned’ about saving her number and giving her a discount.”

Choso looks at you like you’re an idiot as he shakes his head. He stops packing the bowl to throw you his phone.

“Whose number?”

Frowning, you already know the passcode so you unlock it right away. 

Sure enough there was no Brie nor Brianna in his contact lists. Not even her number showed up when you searched his phone for it in case it was under a completely different alias. 

He’d never even saved it. 

The smug smirk on Choso’s face tells you he knew what she was doing all along and got you all riled up on purpose.

In fact, Choso had recognized Brianna’s ploy immediately. You had previously mentioned something about an annoying n’ bitchy rival. 

Besides, there was no other plausible reason for a dumb sorority bitch like her to be talking to him at all—much less throwing herself at him so aggressively.

“Doesn’t feel good now does it, Prez?”

Your face is on fire and you turn away from Choso totally humiliated. You had played right into his hands.

“Hmph! Don’t get cocky, I wanted a reason to beat her ass anyway.”

You puff your cheeks into a pout that Choso can’t help but to chuckle at, shaking his head at you again. 

You were a huge brat that's for damn sure.

“Well, it certainly looks like you found one.”

You’re quiet finally as you rake over his words in your mind. 

‘I’ve always been looking out for you.’

Not only did he not save Brianna’s number there’s a high probability he just kept you from being kicked out of the entire sorority and maybe school too. Fighting was a huge no-no and you could have gotten expelled. Apparently jealous with rage you were ready to risk it all at that moment without even thinking of the consequences. 

Fuck.

Choso had in fact still been looking out for you—even when you didn’t deserve it. 

Plug!Choso who accepts your silence is a sign of your defeat and after a few minutes you move from your desk to sit next to him on your bed as he finishes grinding and packing the bowl. 

“Brats get greens this time.”

I’m paying a premium for all this shit, I better get greens. 

But you hold in that thought, not wanting to give him any more lip in the moment as you’re the one left licking your wounds this time.

Like a gentleman Choso holds the bowl for you and lights it as you take a hit. He tries not to notice how well your glossed lips are wrapping around the phallic mouthpiece as searingly thick smoke flows into your lungs. 

Damn, this shit was dank as hell. 

You’re doing your best to hold it in but your lungs are burning as you watch Choso take a hit himself. Not being able to keep in your coughs for a second more you’re left signaling at Choso to ‘wait a sec’ when he holds the pipe out back to you.

Fuck, it was even stronger than what you remembered.

“See Prez? True pressure.”

You shrug at him trying to save face although your eyes are watering, already tinting a bright shade of red.

“Uhh duh, I always cough Choso. I’ll still need a few more hits to know for certain.”

Choso rolls his eyes.

You take another hit—a smaller one this time—before slowly falling back onto your bed.  

Your eyes close as your high settles in and you debate on what to say next without fucking things up even more with your slick ass mouth. 

However your concentration is diminishing quickly as your buzz makes your senses overly aware of Choso’s intense body heat radiating off him, your thighs practically touching. 

The weed swirling together with the alcohol in your system makes you all the more sensitive. Your mind floats away as your gaze is hyper focused on how the lean muscles of Choso’s toned back and broad shoulders ripple under the thin black tee he wears.

God, Choso is so sexy. 

Your legs squeeze together to calm the burning in your core just from the thought. You want nothing more than to drag him down to bed with you and melt into his embrace—but there's an invisible force field around him that you can’t reach. 

You’re almost certain he would recoil from you if you tried now. 

There’s a conversation you needed to have first but you didn’t know how to start it without fucking things up even more. 

The result is an awkward silence that uncomfortably settles in the room as Choso finishes the bowl off himself. 

Never one to smoke too much of his own product he’s only indulging now to temper his mood. 

Choso doesn’t know why he’s still here, all good sense in him telling him to take the money and get the hell out. Yet he knows he’s hoping for something–anything–to show him you’ve changed even though all signs so far tonight have been showing him you haven’t.

You’re still cowering away from any accountability and he is determined not to give you an easy out this time. 

And it’s for that exact reason Choso can’t look over at you right now.

Otherwise he’s sure to see your tiny pink top that had started to roll up exposing the glitter adorned skin of your underboob. Or how your slow exhales cause your soft stomach to dip temptingly showing off the pink crystal belly button ring he gave you. 

The sight of your fishnets brushing against one another out of the corner of his eye alone is enough to know he wouldn’t be able resist grasping onto your supple thighs. God how he would relish the way his fingers would indent into them. He wanted to rip those slutty fishnets right off of you so his head could push your skirt up even further on your hips while he drowned himself in your wet cunt—not even stopping when you would cry from overstimulation.

Plug!Choso, who is thankful his distraction at long last comes in the form of the faded gray blue fabric by your pillow. 

“Yo!..is that my shit?”

Eyes opening wide, you pale upon seeing Choso reach for the crumpled up shirt. Choso unravels the tee to confirm it is in fact his shirt—one of his favorite band tees at that. 

“Oh, is that yours?”

Choso deadpans.

“So you listen to RHCP now?”

“Maybe…” 

You grab it from him and toss it to the side less you break down and confess to him you had slept in it most nights. Not only have you slept in it but you do in fact listen to RHCP now, especially when you workout.

However with this Choso has hit his limit. 

To him you hadn’t changed. 

Could you not even own up to the tiniest of things?

He couldn’t let himself get sucked back into your toxic web, not anymore. The longer he stayed the more likely that was.

“S’all good, Prez. Keep it.”

Choso grabs his jacket.

“Listen, I gotta g–”

“—w-wait!” 

You grab the other end of his jacket. You still find it difficult to find the right words but you had to say something. 

It was now or never.

“W-Wait… ah, at least before you go…l-let me know how Yuji’s game went?”

You meekly ease into the question but see Choso go ridgid at the mention regardless. 

For now he relents and stays seated. Although a few minutes pass before he speaks.

“He won, of course. MVP of the season.”

You smile genuinely at that but Choso isn’t looking at you— too pained by the memories that began to bubble up again like bile in his throat.

“Awe, that's so great! I knew he would! I’m so happy for him.”

Choso grits his teeth as he turns back to you, his anger evident in his entire being as every muscle in him flexes.

“Are you? So that’s how you treat someone you’re happy for? Really?!”

He doesn’t give you the chance to respond.

“Yuji’s a strong kid— much stronger than me. Honestly, I didn’t even think he minded you weren’t there as he was all focus and excitement to play that day—”

You let out a quiet exhale in relief though any consolation you felt was instantly shattered as Choso continued. 

“But when I put him to bed that night. H-He..He’d asked why you weren’t there…He asked if you were gone now like our parents. Yuji wouldn’t believe you’d miss it otherwise.”

Choso struggles to say the last bit and maintain eye contact with you. 

Every moment you gaze into his eyes though was pure torture as you’re racked with even more guilt.

“Choso I–”

“I’m so fuckin’ tired of all your fuckin’ excuses!”

You’re silent. It’s so strange to see him this upset you don’t know what to say.

“I’d ask you if you’d even considered the abandonment issues that kid already carries but you don’t. You don’t fill that fuckin’ superficial lil’ head of yours with anything beyond yourself!”

Finishing what he had to say, Choso gathers up his jacket and backpack, stuffing it full with the stack of cash on the vanity—not even bothering to count it.

Momentarily dumbfounded, you're scrambling from the bed to block his path. 

“C-Come on, Choso! I didn’t want to abandon him or you! I tried to call you and I texted you so much these past few weeks to talk!”

Choso isn’t impressed.

“And not one text actually had the words ‘I’m sorry’ in it. Not that it would have cut it this time.”

You're reduced to silence for the umpteenth time tonight. 

You wreck your brain knowing most of your texts had been focused on baiting him to respond to you but fuck—did you really not even apologize? 

“But I am sorry!”

Choso’s gaze is cold and distant, so foreign in comparison to the warmth you’d taken for granted before.

“Whatever you say, Prez.”

There it is again. You’ve grown to resent the title, the job, everything about it.

“Just stop calling me that, okay?!”

You’re trying hard to fight back the tears that threateningly pool in the corners of your eyes.

“What...Prez? Why, it aint all that they cracked it up to be?”

“N-No… it’s n-not… I actually hate it and I hate being here.”

Your voice is hardly above a whisper as you direct your words towards the ground. You didn't want Choso to see your glassy eyes even if he’d noticed the cracks in your voice. 

Plug!Choso who regards you with skepticism but curiosity nonetheless. So at long last you decided to be honest with both him and yourself aloud for the first time.

But it didn’t mean shit if you wouldn’t do something about it.

“Then quit.”

Choso says to you like it’s the most obvious answer in the world as your head snaps up incredulously.

“H-huh? W-What?!”

“You heard me princess— quit.”

Could you really just quit? 

Truthfully, you had never considered it an option. The expectations put on you by your sorority sisters, your parents and the plans you had made for yourself had all led you to the commitments and responsibilities you had now. 

How could you just let them all down by walking away from it all?  

“Choso— I heard you..b-but I can’t, you don’t understand I–”

“—No, I understand better than you do, princess. You spent so much time with me and Yuji because you hate this sorority bullshit, you can’t stand any of these bitches and now you just agreed to be president of your own goddamn misery!”

Reading you for filth, Choso stares at you expectantly but you avoid his gaze.

Your nails suddenly becoming all the more interesting as you fumble with them.  

“–Ight then.”

Choso doesn’t want to argue with you any longer. 

You’re still full of excuses to his disappointment. If you wanted to be something you weren't that badly, then that was your own prerogative he decided as he brushed past you.

“N-No! P-Please, don’t leave Cho!”

There's clear desperation in your voice. You cling to him, burying your head into the middle of his back as your shaky hands weave their way around his midsection. 

Choso is mid-twist on the doorknob. 

He had all intentions of leaving if you still weren't being honest with yourself about things.

Still does. 

Yet his determination is wavering from your hot tears begin to seep through his shirt and trickle down his spine. The warmth of your body—now flattened against his—causes your pert nipples to poke into his back while your delicate fingers wretchedly grasp onto his taunt abs like a lifeline. 

Like you actually needed him in your life.

Fucking hell, you didn’t play fair at all.

But he couldn’t forgive you just to hurt him again and especially not Yuji.

“Let go.”

“No.”

“I said let go!”

“NO!”

Choso easily pries you off of him, spinning you around as your back slams against the door pinning you in place. His hands encircle your arms and extend out fully so he could put some distance between the two of you. 

He couldn’t think straight when you were all over him. 

Your world is a blur and in your crossfaded state you are left with vertigo at the sudden shift of positions. Both you and Choso are left panting at the intensity of it all.

“You don’t listen to anyone do you?! You just do whatever the fuck you want…”

Choso’s face is red with anger and your eyes—already reddened from your high—take on a deeper shade as you are now openly bawling in front of him.

“Tch, why are you the one crying? This is how you want things, right?!”

You shake your head, unable to communicate beyond your pitiful sobs. 

Choso grows more and more frustrated as the guilt he is feeling battles with his more rational mind prompting him to still be angry with you despite your tears. Back and forth his mind races until it all bubbles over and—

“—You don’t think I know I’m not good enough for you!?”

Your teary eyes widen at the sudden admission. 

Choso even startles himself with his own confession he’d been holding in all this time. 

“But not Yuji...He’s already so much better than me! He’s gonna actually be something one day. He doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Your lip quivers and your pleas are almost unintelligible.

“I-I know…m’s-sorry…m-m’so sorry C-Choso!”

Choso exhales deeply and shoulders slump forward as he releases you, running a hand over his face and back through his raven locks.

You couldn't read his expression but you didn't want him to attempt to leave you again as you close the gap between you, arms encircling him once more.

Choso doesn’t push you away, yet to his credit he doesn't return your embrace either as he’s still torn.

“I-I missed y-you so m-much.”

Cursing the hold you have over him Choso can’t deny he still wants to be with you—but you both were at an impasse.

Nothing good would come from repeating the same cycle again. 

There is no resolution if you still want to keep up a front. 

“P-Please forgive me Cho—I-I love you.”

The sweet proclamation is accentuated by your pillowy lips spreading kisses over his chest while the tips of your fingers slip up his shirt to place feather light scratches at the small of his back. 

Love, eh?

An unexpected revelation dawns on Choso and he is now resolved in what he has to do. 

“Yeah princess, you really love me?” 

Oblivious to the danger edging in his voice, you nod as you continue to coo affectionate words and affirmations into his chest. One of your legs hitches around his as you mold yourself deeper into him thinking he’d finally forgiven you. 

Had he forgiven you though? 

Well, not exactly. 

A devious smirk appears across Choso’s features.

Choso had come to the conclusion that at the end of the day you were simply a terrible people pleaser. 

Your stuck up bratty nature was merely a front of false confidence. 

You tried so hard to become whatever anyone else wanted you to be, you'd lie to yourself and become utterly miserable in your efforts to appease those around you. 

However, Choso knew the version of you he’d gotten when you’d been with him and Yuji had been the real you. 

And he actually did believe you loved him— even if you had just forced yourself to say it in the moment so you could manipulate him into staying.

Sympathetic to your pitiful nature, Choso wouldn’t just abandon you. 

But if you couldn’t do what was best for you, he would make sure you would himself.

PART 3

⋙ ©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

⋙ I'm about halfway through P3, its 5.5k already lol. stick with me though cause pt 3 is the nasty brat taming smut we all are waiting for! if i tagged you here i will tag you again for p3 but im still adding new people to tag list so lmk in comments or reblogs if you'd like to be added. trying to focus to finish this but my adhd might distract me into writing a quick gojo fic but if i do i will finish this right after!

⋙tags: (ps ty for all the sweet comments for those who joined my overall writing tag list yall legit had me in tears ilysm!) @nkogneatho @toji-girl-main @RoyaltyAndRoses @aydene @slowlyshycomputer @bontensbabygirl @yoonjinhusbands @anxious-chick @kashxyou @halosdiary @littlemochabunni @ryomens-vixen @buttercupblu @tonycries @lowkeyremi @strawberrygirl0 @crybaby-herbalist @rintcrous @bomboclakkk @anubisisthebomb @alwaysfreakingout @oeanonyme @chrys23 @spltbtch @uranometrias @officialsimpp @crispycatt @purple-obsidian my-jukebox @peachyharts111 @thedorklingqueen @sugurusprettygirl @scarasw1f3 @kgorethz @c1truswh4re @madaqueue

[monster-disaster]

[tentacle] The monster under the bed

tentacle!monster x human!Reader Good to know: somnophilia, a bit of dub-con

Summary: Your aunt's house is not as empty as you thought.

A/N: For kinktober 2023, I have a new town full of monsters. Here is the masterlist.

The change in the air is thick and heavy after you leave the Welcome to Grimbrook sign behind you. You feel it in your core. It's cold and silent. For a second, everything goes quiet, and the time seems to stop. The rumbling of your car gets muffled, and the colors of the lush, green forest at your sides fade into a milky fog flowing above the ground. You can't see the tall mountains and their sharp edges in the distance anymore. The clear blue sky turns gray, and you can't find the sun anymore, either. Just a few dim rays shine down on the road in front of you, showing your way to the village next to the sea.

As you get closer, you can smell the salty scent of the water even through the closed windows of your car. It's heavy in your nostrils. The sound of the waves gets louder too. From the top of the uphill, you can see the village with its old stone buildings and the sea behind everything. It seems colorless, merging into the dark sky at the horizon. It is beautiful and terrifying at the same time. There is something in Grimbrook that you can't pinpoint but freezes your insides. The only light you can see comes from a lighthouse at the edge of a cliff. It emits a soft, rhythmic beam of yellow light that cuts through the heavy fog, casting eerie shadows over the still village. Seagulls glide through the mist above the white seafoam, waving across the dark surface.

"Okay," you hum, forcing your eyes to go back to the GPS on your phone. The blue line clearly shows your way to the house you have to reach before night falls. It leads you out of the center of the villages until you reach a small suburb with Victorian houses standing in a long row with grand iron gates and gardens.

The monotone voice of the GPS informs you when you reach the right house, and after sitting in your car for a few more minutes, you have no other option but to get out and make your way up to the porch. The wooden planks creak under your steps as you look around a bit better. The house is old, with tall walls, characterful windows, and a dark green door with a golden knocker in the middle. It's cold in your hold as you knock it against the door.

You don't get an answer, though.

The door opens, and you find yourself facing a narrow foyer with stairs on the right side. Pictures and paintings hang on the walls in dark wood and golden frames. You can see the entrance of the kitchen at the end. And on your left side, there is an arch that leads you to the living room.

"Hello?" You break the silence. Your voice is hoarse and quiet. You have to force your legs to move and not turn back to your car and leave this place immediately. "Somebody?" Your gaze lands on a small table in the corner next to the entrance door. There is a letter with your name on it.

Dear Cat, I'm sorry I can't be here when you arrive. Make yourself at home, and we will talk tomorrow. Delilah

"Great," you sigh, letting the paper fall back onto the surface of the small table.

For a second, you think about searching for a hotel or something similar to spend the night, but to be honest, it doesn't sound much better either. You know you should leave the town to feel better, but it's not an option. So you close the door behind you and wander further into the house.

You got a call a few weeks ago about your aunt you met long years ago. She died, and now you have a house. You can keep it. You can sell it. Whatever you want.

The house is old, with a lot of wood, dark colors, and golden details. There are still newspapers from months ago on the coffee table in the living room. The rug under you is faded and thin. The floor creaks every now and again. There are two rooms and a bathroom upstairs. The bigger room is still occupied with your aunt's belongings. The scent of her perfume still lingers in the air. You remember her when you were a kid. She came to your grandmother's funeral, and you never saw her again. Nobody really talked about her in the family. The only things you know are that she was kind but preferred her own company above everything else. She lost her husband in her late twenties but stayed in Grimbrook, barely leaving the town.

The guestroom is much more bare than the other parts of the house. A bed in the middle with two nightstands and a lamp. There is a drawer in front of it and a mirror on the wall. The window is slightly open, letting in the cold autumn breeze. You have a view of the street from here. It's calm and empty. The only reasons you know you are not the only person in the town are because you can see a few cars here and there and a dog barking in the distance. The fog is thick and heavy. You can't see the end of the street through it.

After wandering around the house some more, you decide to call your friend until you have no other option but to change and try to get some sleep.

Climbing up on the bed in the guest room, you settle under the thick covers. The scent of the linen is faded and mixed with dust and the night air coming through the window. It's dark outside, not counting a few lamps on the street. Their orange lights filter into the room. And everything is quiet. So quiet that your ears almost start to ring. You are not used to it. You live in the city with constant noises.

When sleep takes you, it's restless and everything but relaxing. You fidget and turn, trying to find a comfortable position as you balance between the darkness and the real world. Your head feels just as foggy as Grimbrook, and at some point, you can't decide if you are dreaming or not.

You are on your back, one arm on your stomach, and the other is next to your body. The autumn breeze caresses your skin, moving up from your feet to your ankles and calves. Shiver runs through your spine at the feeling. You want to reach out for the blanket, but even though your arms move, they do not obey your command. Something pets the thin skin of your wrist. It's soft and barely noticeable. You feel your muscles stretch as you reach up to the headrest of the bed, but you don't even know why. The cold moves up further on your legs. It curls around your flesh, spreading you in the middle of the bed. Your heels dig into the mattress. Your body tenses when your limbs don't do as you want. A frown deepens between your brows.

"What?" A hoarse grunt leaves your lips. When you open your eyes, you meet darkness, and you are not sure if you are really awake or not. Your eyelids are heavy, and not even a second later, you fall back asleep again.

The bottom of your pajama slips down on your legs. The waist stretches around your parted legs. Something slides up on your stomach under your t-shirt. It is slick and soft. A gasp echoes in your room when it flicks your nipple. The thing curls around the flesh of your tits, groping and caressing. Your nipples harden under the strange touch. Saliva? A tongue?

Where are you?

And there is something else between your legs. The muscles of your thighs tense, and the hold around you tightens.

"What?" You groan again into the silence. As you look down on your body, you see your t-shirt around your neck. Your breasts are bare. Something dark and purple curls around them, squeezing and licking. The teasing on your nipples is almost painful. At the back of your mind, you want more. Your head falls back onto the pillows, and you are asleep again.

The tentacles between your legs move up and down on your pussy. Your panties are ruined between your wet center and the slick touch of theirs. One of them flicks your clit. Your back arches at the feeling. The cold night air hits your aching pussy when the thin fabric is pulled aside. One of them stays around your clit, flicking and rubbing the hard bud. The other one goes straight to your hole.

You want to move. To get closer or farther away, you can't decide. The tendrils don't let you go anyway.

You break the silence with a sudden moan. The limb enters you slowly. It slips into you easily, stretching your walls until you can't take another inch. It fills you up.

"Fuck," you groan.

Your breasts are soaked. The slickness on your skin shines under the dim streetlights. The tentacles play with your flesh, rubbing and pinching your nipples. The pain takes your breath away every now and again until you feel dizzy.

The others between your legs move without pausing even for a second. Your clit throbs, and your walls flutter. Pleasure flares inside your veins, rushing through your body with such force you never felt before. Your lungs burn for air, and your muscles ache as you lay taut, panting.

When you open your eyes, you see the ceiling and the old lamp hanging above you. You want to force your mind to think, to panic, to do something, but your senses are full of pleasure. The only thing you can do is moan and grind against the tentacle inside your pussy. It pounds into you, reaching every spongy spot inside that makes you see stars and beg for more. The sheet under you is soaked with your mixed juices. You can feel it dripping out of your hole.

Fuck, you want to shout, but you can't find your voice. You just shake and tremble in the hold of the limbs keeping you in place on the bed. Every nerve in your body is on edge, and when it snaps in your lower stomach, you can't remember how to breathe. Your climax forces you down and stops you from moving. A thin layer of sweat shines on your bare skin. Heat burns you from the inside, and your pussy flutters and sucks on the tendril inside you. It still moves in and out. It twitches and rubs against your walls. And doesn't stop even when the darkness envelopes you again.

When you wake up the next morning, you need a few minutes to remember where you are. The sun shines through the window, casting an orange hue over the old rug in the middle of the room. As you sit up, your t-shirt falls back over your torso, but your pants are still around your knees.

"What?" You grunt out. The question is barely louder than a whisper. Your hand shakes as you reach down between your legs. Your pussy is wet, sensitive, and swollen. A moan escapes you when your fingertip slides over your slit.

Your dream is still vivid in your mind. You can feel the tentacle in your pussy, using your hole and rubbing your clit. Your center starts to throb with need at the memory. And your breasts. Your other hand grabs one of your tits. Your nipples are still hard peaks through the thin fabric of your shirt.

"Hello? Cat?" The sudden noise snaps your head up to the door of your room. The voice comes from the entrance of the house. "It's Delilah." "Hey!" You croak out. You are not even sure if she can hear you. "I will be down in a minute." "Great!" She shouts back. "I will make some coffee, and we can talk about your plans with the house." Your fingers sink into your hole. You are still stretched out. You move in and out of your pussy easily.

Yeah, you think, you need a few nights if you want to decide about your plans.

- Masterlist Grimbrook Masterlist Patreon

[makelemonade]

BEST FRIENDS TO FUCK FRIENDS - GENSHIN MEN

Warnings; NSFW, (18+), Female Reader, implied to have a big chest (not crazy big like be realistic) and a GYATT (sorry), p in v sex, seductiveness, implied squiring, a little sprinkle of degradation (use of the word “slut”), Semi-Public, unwanted pics (He wanted them), mentions of jerking off/masturbation, sinful thoughts of your best friend, raw sex, idk tell me if I missed anything, HORRIBLY WRITTEN SMUT. ITS SO BAD.

Notes; I was supposed to write this for Thoma originally so if this name is somewhere in here…ignore it. If you like this, support me on kofi! Link in masterlist!

You’ve been his best friend since secondary school, and you couldn’t deny the feelings you had for him within high school.

You always denied it though, because you just couldn’t ruin the friendship. But, now you’re both in university, stuff changes and you definitely grew some stuff..

Your feelings for him turn into sexual desires when you realize it’s been a long time since you’ve done anything. You’ve been so occupied with university that you couldn’t even spend some time on yourself…

What sets everything off is when he invites you to his house in the spring to swim. Seeing those abs and the water dripping off his chest…holy shit. Is it bad you wanted to lick all that water off or?

You bring up the topic of friends with benefits, but not between you two (yet), just what he thinks of it.

When he isn’t opposed to one with a friend, that’s what changes your mindset completely. You knew he wasn’t the best at making those type of moves, but with your assets…

It starts a week later when you ask to sleepover at his house after a party. He agrees.

This is gonna sound crazy, but you purposely puked over yourself by drinking too much so he could give you his shirt. You decided, that not wearing any shorts was now your way of sleeping!

So, here you were in his room, in his shirt, black underwear that was hardly covered, and a bed for the both of you to share.

He gulped, lingering for a while but said nothing and just got into bed. He was gonna think about your ass for a while.

You got in beside him, and maybe an hour later if he’s asleep and you’re not, you’ll secretly inch yourself closer to him, so when he wakes up and finds your hardly covered ass rubbing against him, he’ll have to go to the bathroom.

What sets him off completely is in the morning when you stretch, your arms going up and exposing your bare legs and stomach. He couldn’t stop staring.

The next step isn’t too far away; Maybe 2 weeks later. He invited you to come for a swim again, and this one was a hard decision between a bikini or a horribly fabricated shirt that exposed everything.

You decided to go for a bikini that didn’t have the best fabric, so when it got wet…

“A bikini?” He spoke. “What happened to your shorts and shirts?” You usually never went with bikinis, if it wasn’t obvious already.

You shrugged. “Change of habit.”

The cold water made your nipples pop, going through the fabric completely. Did I mention the bikini was also white?

This, is what gets him thinking about you a lot from now on.

Later in the week you’re FaceTiming him, and he noticed the change in clothes. You’re wearing a dress from HIGH SCHOOL. It was so small that the side of your breasts were out.

He had no shame in hiding the fact he was staring at them the entire FaceTime.

In the middle of taking, you pretended to drop your phone by your leg, but he didn’t expect that when you’d pick it up, he’d catch a glimpse of his favourite colour as your tight panties before you quickly moved the phone back up.

He has to hang up 5 minutes later.

Now, your next idea is gonna sound absolutely horrible.

You took pictures of yourself, none of you naked but had a sexy lingerie set in his favourite colour and sent them to him on Messages

And 2 seconds later you’re spamming him on Snapchat,

DON’T OPEN MY IMESSAGE

IGNORE IT

I DIDN’T MEAN TO SEND IT TO YOU.

Now, he’s curious, so of course he tells you he won’t look and says he’ll delete the chat.

But really he’ll save them to his phone and definitely jerk off to them.

Now, the next step is the final step, and takes the most courage.

You invite him out to the club, wearing a sexy right black dress that showed your curves perfectly.

Since this was gonna take up a lot of courage, you took maximum 2 shots to get your mindset a little changed for this.

He takes the same amount you do, and you’ve both been to multiple parties where you’ve gotten blackout drunk; 2 shots would make sure you’d remember everything.

When the both of you make your way to the dance floor, you’re shaking, but you keep telling yourself you can do this.

The next song plays and you’re both dancing together,

And the next thing he knew, you’ve turned around and you’re grinding your ass right on his pelvis. He freezes for a bit, and you’re scared; Have you gone too far?

But suddenly, his hands are on your hips and he’s moving the two of you to the rhythm, keeping your ass pressed against him.

You dance like this for another minute or 2 and then he moves his arms up around your waist, pulling your back against his chest as he starts to kiss your neck, sucking on it.

You let out moans, wishing he could hear them.

One hand makes its way up to grope your tit, he could already feel your nipple with how tight your dress was. “No bra?” He spoke into your ear so seductively, making you whimper.

He then grab your arms, dragging you to the washroom.

~~~

The small washroom mirror is steamed as your pressed against it, sat atop the sink, the both of you sloppily making out as his dick pushed in and out of of your cunt, your fluids dripping all over your thighs.

“Fucking slut,” He grunted, throwing his head back at the pure bliss. “You knew what you’ve been doing, haven’t you? All those, fuck, pictures? The bikini?”

You just grinned, tongue lolling out as your eyes rolled back into your head. “Nghh- fuck!”

He slapped the side of your ass, “Tell me how much of a slut you are, since you wanna be treated like one”

“Mmm- FUCK! I’m a slut, I’m your fucking slut, nghh~!”

“Good girl,” He panted, fucking into you harder. “I dreamed of this.” He groaned, laughing. “Fucking this tight pussy. It-fuck! Belongs to me now.”

Somehow, his thrusts became even harder, making you scream as you clawed at this back, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. “Don’t stop!”

“Scream louder, maybe you’ll beat the music,” He snorted, and you wanted to slap the grin off his face, but you’re met with pure bliss as you meet your high.

“I’m cumming!Imcummingimcumming!”

You screamed as your fluids gushed all over his pelvis and he kept fucking into you. Maybe you beat the music.

It didn’t take long until he came into you. Ropes of his warm seed plastering your insides. He panted, resting his head on your shoulder.

You both stayed like that for a few minutes, the both of you too overstimulated to move.

At some point he pulled out, making you whine. His cum was starting to spill out and he shook his head, shoving 2 fingers in.

“Let’s go back to my place, I’m not done with you yet.”

-THOMA, ITTO, ALHAITHAM, KAVEH, AYATO, Tighnari, Albedo, CYNO, CHILDE, Pantalone, DILUC, Kaeya, ZHONGLI, Xiao, NEUVILLETTE, Wriothesly

[star-sim]

plushies and pouts ☆ riki nishimura

☆ non-idol! boyfriend! riki x fem! reader ☆ summary: that one time that riki punched your plushie and you got mad at him. ☆ genre: fluff!! riki has beef with your plushies #loser ☆ warning(s)? n/a!! ☆ word count: 1.2k ☆ can't get bf! riki outta my head good lord

"Look, Babe, I'm sorry—"

The silence was piercing. You didn't even spare him a glance, only ignoring Riki as you quietly snuggled up into your pillows (and not him, who was laying mere inches away from you).

Riki wet his lips. 

"I didn't mean to," he continued, reaching for your hand. You shot him a glare and jerked your hand away before he could even touch you. 

"Don't say that to me," you snapped, your tone harsh and cold. "Say that to the person you hurt."

With that, you turned back to your phone, scrolling away and ignoring your boyfriend, you lips painted with a small pout.

Riki sighed.

Just minutes ago, the two of you were all over each other, lips connected as you hungrily kissed each other. 

Today was supposed to be one of your lazy days spent with Riki. The moment that Riki texted you that he was here, you pounced on him, crashing your lips against his almost immediately. He loved it when your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling it gently as your plush lips pressed soft kisses along his jaw.

Riki hadn't seen you in a week or two, courtesy of grueling schoolwork. 

How was he supposed to stop himself from getting too eager?

Riki eyed the Strawberry Rilakkuma (aptly named Kkumi) plush strewn across the floor, its round body faced down.

You had two policies for Riki when it came to hanging out in your room.

Policy #1: Respect all your plushies. That means to not hit them, to not call them mean names, and to treat them with kindness. 

Policy #2: If you and Riki were going to do anything on your bed, whether it be making out or cuddling, you had to turn every plushie around so that they wouldn’t have to watch. According to you, you and Riki were your plushies’ parents, so it would be traumatizing for them to watch you and him make out.

Listen, Riki usually followed your rules perfectly. He treated all of your plushies with kindness.

But with his hoodie draped over your shoulders, with the way that your perfume was filling all his senses as you pulled his hair, with the way that you were all pressed up against him giggling into his ear while pressing sticky kisses against his neck— How could you expect him to stop all of a sudden just so that he can cover your Rilakkuma plush’s eyes?

"Riki—" you had murmured against his lips, your hands sliding down to his shoulders to give them a squeeze, "Riki, wait—"

He had ignored you, only gripping your waist to pull you even closer. 

"Ri—"

Riki cut you off with his lips, relishing in the way you let out a squeak. You melted at his touch, rendered completely helpless, something that made him grin against your lips.

And just as he thought he successfully shut you up, you swiftly pulled away from him. You were breathless, your pupils blown out yet filled with desperation. 

"Kkumi's watching," you breathed, swiping your tongue over your bottom lip as if that didn't make Riki's stomach do flips. Who was Kkumi again? Oh, it was your Strawberry Rilakkuma plush.

Riki clutched your chin, leaning in to kiss you, but you pushed him away. 

"Kkumi is a plushie," Riki rasped, bringing up his large hand to cup your cheek. "He can't see a damn thing."

"Kkumi is our child," you furrowed your brows, poking him in the chest. "Imagine if you saw your parents making out."

Riki shrugged.

The next moments were a blur.

Riki reached across your lap and grabbed Kkumi the Strawberry Rilakkuma plush. With one hand, he threw the plushie into the air, and with the other, he smacked it down to the floor, sending the plushie across the room. 

A shrill scream ripped from your throat as you watched in horror, your beloved Rilakkuma plushie wallowing on the floor below you. 

"Riki, how could you?!" you immediately jumped to your feet, picking Kkumi off the floor and cradling his poor face against your chest. 

"He's a stupid plush," Riki murmured, frowning when you shot him an offended look.

You scoffed. "He's not stupid!"

"He is."

And that's how Riki found himself you-less, all cold now that you were ignoring him.

Fine, maybe he went too far throwing and punching your plushie, and maybe he shouldn't have called it stupid, but it simply wasn't fair! Your plushies got to see you everyday and sleep with you every night, and he didn't.

He glanced at Kkumi the Strawberry Rilakkuma, his eyes hardening at the darn thing. Was he seriously going to apologize to it?

Riki's eyes flickered over to you, the upset pout on your lips. Oh, how much he wanted to kiss them right now. You'd whine and push him away, but Riki knew that you'd melt. Still, he knew you were serious. You took every and all matters related to your plushies very seriously.

Riki sighed. Making sure that you were looking, he got up to his feet, stalking over to Kkumi on the floor. He grabbed the plush's face and held it by the ears, taking a good look at its fabric face.

"I'm sorry," Riki said through gritted teeth, (not-so-)sneakily peeking to see if you were watching. "I'm sorry for hitting you and calling you stupid, Kkumi."

He waited a few seconds. Surely you'd let him kiss you again after this, right?

"Kiss his forehead," you ordered, your arms crossed over your chest.

"W-What?"

"You heard me," you rolled your eyes. "You've been a bad father. That's your child there."

Riki stared at you incredulously. You only stared back with a quirked brow, almost as if you were testing him. Riki sighed once more.

The things that he did for you.

Riki brought the bear's forehead to his lips, pressing a kiss to it. Riki could hear your judgy eyes, so he took it a step further. 

Awkwardly petting the plush's head, Riki robotically, though gently, said, "I'm sorry for being a bad father. I'll do better in the future."

Riki whipped his head over to you for approval. You narrowed your eyes quizzically, before you took in a deep breath.

"Do you forgive me—"

"Fine," you muttered, opening your arms. "I forgive y— Ack!"

The moment that those words came out of your lips, Riki jumped on you, nuzzling his face into your neck.

"I missed you," he murmured against your skin. 

"It's been ten minutes," you flicked his forehead gently, though your hands took their place in his hair.

"Well, it was the worst ten minutes of my life."

You didn't say anything else, so Riki took that as a sign to snuggle up even further against you, his large body draping over you. You were so warm, and soft, and comforting, Riki couldn't imagine living another moment not close to you. He felt so calm. Maybe it wouldn't hurt if he just closed his eyes a little bit, after all, you were with him, engulfing him with your warmth.

Slowly, Riki drifted off, with nothing but the image of you in his head.

(Though, a few hours later, when the both of you woke up, you went to grab a glass of water for the both of you. Riki made sure that you were nowhere to be seen as he raised his fist towards the many plushies lining your bed, punching them square in the face. Sorry, he loved you, but his beef with your plushies would be endless.)

[daisykihannie]

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 | 𝙷.𝙹𝚂

pairing: succubus!Jisung x afab gn!reader

warnings: smut, NSFW, spit, squirting, choking, degradation, fucking demons, monster cock, slapping, blood, bdsm, etc.

chapter 2 | chapter 3

"Come on Y/N! don't be such a coward~" your best friend Felix purred from his spot on your couch. He was watching you with a smirk as you stare down at the rustic looking book in your hands. The cover was tattered and the spine was disintegrating. The book was well worn from decades of use.

"Summoning demons? Felix this is-" your words died on your tongue, unable to think of an accurate way to describe the idea Felix chirped out as if it was the most common thing in the world.

"My dear best friend, you need to get laid and clearly you're not going to be bringing anyone home anytime soon. I've done it a couple times and honestly?" he paused momentarily, looking up at the ceiling. He seemed to be recalling some distant memory as a blush rose up the expanse of the pale skin of his neck reaching the tips of his ears.

"Lixie?" your voice rang out softly, unable to hide the slight quiver in the single word. Anxiety plaguing your senses as you awaited the blonde male to finish his sentence.

"It was some of the most mind-blowing sex I've ever had. That demon did things to me that isn't even possible for a human to accomplish." he hummed as his gaze met your again. You bit your bottom lip deep in thought as you gently moved the book around in your hands, fingertips fiddling with the fraying fabric of the cover.

"is- is it safe?" you asked, uncertainty still wrapping your words like a thick blanket, weighing them down so they were just a bit harder to force out of your vocal cords that felt tight in your throat.

"Y/N-ie..." he started before slowly climbing off the couch. His knees connecting with the cold surface of the hard word floors as he made his way to your side. You didn't move from your spot even when you felt his small warm hand land on your upper thigh, rubbing soothing circles against the bare skin that wasn't quite covered by your lounge shorts.

"I wouldn't even suggest the idea if I wasn't 100% confident that everything would be fine." you felt your shoulders relax at his comforting words. Your lungs were burning ever so slightly as you exhaled a breath you were unaware to be holding.

His eyes remained on you, searching your features for any unease. He truly only had the best intentions for you, noticing that you were so pent up that you couldn't focus on much of anything, getting aggravated and frustrated at the tiniest inconveniences. He just wanted you to relax, let go, and relieve all the built up stress for the past few weeks.

He had even offered to help you out on more than one occasion, just wanting to do anything to help you. It wasn't that you didn't want to sleep with him per say. He was insanely attractive, had a nice body with toned abs, and his voice could easily bring you to a state of euphoria on its own without any need to be touched. The problem was that he was your best friend. You saw him as just that, never really wanting to ruin that with any sexual or possible romantic feelings.

After a few moments of contemplating, you released your bottom lip from the vice grip of your teeth before nodding. "Okay, yeah. What could go wrong?" you giggled softly feeling a bit silly from being so anxious about the idea when Felix had done it more than once and was very clearly more than fine, sitting right next to you.

But, those were always someone's famous last words. When you ask that one question, the universe decides that if anything could go wrong then they will go wrong.

Felix stayed at your apartment for a couple more hours, watching movies together but eventually he left and it was just you and the book left alone. It remained in its spot on your coffee table, taunting you as you stared at it. Anxiety bubbling in your chest yet again at the thought of summoning a demon.

It didn't help your anxiety that you'd resorted to having to summon a demon to get laid. How pathetic was that? It's not that you couldn't go out to a random bar or club and bring a guy home but, it was just too tedious and potentially dangerous to do that. Funny how that was too dangerous in your mind but summoning a literal demon from hell wasn't.

You took a few deep breaths, calming the storm that was raging against your rib cage threatening to break through the skin. Once your heartbeat began to return to a normal rhythm, your finger tips curled gently around the worn cover, contemplating opening the book for the first time when your phone chimed.

The noice ringing through your far too quiet apartment caused you to yelp in surprise and jump far too much for your own liking. The book flying into the air a bit before landing into your lap. Clutching your chest, feeling your heart threatening to break free again you grabbed your phone from the other side of the couch to see a text message from Felix.

Unlocking your phone with shaking hands your eyes followed across the black lines of text on the illuminated screen that read "I forgot to tell you, do not- I repeat, DO NOT make the spell permanent. as long as you don't do that, everything will be fine." the text causing an ominous feeling to cocoon your body, breathing getting even harder in the now tense air that filled your apartment.

"It's fine Y/N... just fucking get it over with..." you mumbled in a weak attempt of giving yourself a pep talk but never the less, your fingers slipped under the hand cover again, finally opening the book. Your eyes skimmed over lines of English translations encompassing spells written in tongues.

Each page had a different spell, an illustration of the creature to be summoned, and descriptions of how to set up the spell and what each creature's purpose was. There were so many pages with entities you had no clue even existed, then your eyes landed on a page that was strikingly different from the rest.

This page had the title of "Succubus" and the writing was in red instead of black to match the previous pages. There were lewd sketches behind the written words, and warnings written along with the similar content of the other pages. What stood out was the big bold black lettering that read "SAFE WORD: ANGELIC" it was a bit ironic but fitting, surely the mention of anything holy would catch a demons attention.

A small chuckle fell for your lips at the silly thought of getting wrecked by a demon when the safe word is said, the demon recoiling in pain and hissing away from the summoner, the imagery similar to that of a horror film when an evil entity gets splashed with holy water or is faced with a cross.

Shaking your head softly, bringing yourself out of the comedic scene that played out in your head as you read every line thoroughly. Reading each word two to three times, dedicated to committing every tiny detail to memory to guarantee you don't fuck anything up.

Once you felt confident with the retained knowledge you let out a soft hum, feeling a lot less anxious than before. You were sure you couldn't fuck this up even if you tried.

(foreshadowing?)

Pulling yourself off your spot on the couch, you placed the book onto your hardwood floors, open to the necessary page and traveled through your home collecting the objects needed to perform the ritual. Humming a small tune as you skipped throughout the space, filling your arms before placing them in a small pile next to the book.

Realizing you didn't have enough space for the ritual you pushed your couch away from the center of the room till it hit a wall, the coffee table following in the opposite direction. Once you had enough space, you kneeled by your supplies reading over the book one more time before beginning to set up.

First step was to make a pentagram out of ashes, luckily you had a decently sized jar full of your incense ashes to use. The next step was to place a candle at each point of the star and one in the center. Then You were instructed to light each one with a match in a specific order, starting with the one at top point of the star and working your way around clockwise and ending with the center candle.

It specifically stated to not use a lighter, luckily there had been a box of matches in the back of one of the kitchen drawers when you moved in that you hadn't bothered to throw out. It was starting to feel a bit odd that you miraculously had every single item that was necessary but you brushed off the thought, continuing the ritual.

After the candles were lit, you had to recite the spell three times perfectly. That's the part that worried you a bit considering the spell was written in a foreign language but you were determined to pronounce every last syllable perfectly.

"Lastly, seal with deal with just a single drop of your blood" you repeated back to yourself from the book that lied open to your side. Picking up the sewing needle you'd found while on your scavenger hunt, using it to prick the soft, uncalloused flesh of your index finger, letting out the tiniest of hisses as a bead of crimson liquid formed on the skin.

Squeezing your finger under the pin prick causing more blood rushing out of the tiny wound, you held your finger above the center candle, high enough to not get burned but close enough to line the droplet up with the flickering yellow flame.

When your blood finally let gravity win, the droplet landed perfectly over the flame, snuffing out the fire before a large gust of wind blew through your home. Your lights went out and the force was strong enough to put out the rest of the candles, pushing any light weight furniture away from the pentagram, colliding with the walls with a loud echoing boom. The gust knocked objects off of the more solid surfaces, causing them to clatter against walls or to the floor.

It was even strong enough to throw your body back, causing your spine to collide with the edge of your couch, an oof being forced out of your chest at the contact and the air seemed to be sucked from your lungs. Once the wind was gone, your eyes shot back open to see your apartment in disarray, gasping to refill your lungs of the oxygen that was ripped from them.

Looking around the space, other than the effects of the wind, nothing was different. There wasn't a sex demon standing in front of you or really anywhere in sight. Confused eyes raked through your your surrounding to be met with nothing. It didn't work. Letting out a groan and rolling your eyes, you started restoring order to your living area.

Once everything was put back in their places you picked up your phone from it's location on your couch cushions before flopping onto the rough and plush surface. Unlocking your phone and opening your chat with Felix, you typed out a quick "didn't work, asshole. Can't believe I fell for your stupid prank." pressing send and turning your phone off again, a sigh escaped you as your body quickly felt far too heavy for your liking.

Your body felt like lead, truly and utterly exhausted. Your body was too heavy to lift any of your limbs as you drifted out of consciousness, the whole ordeal exerting far too much stress on your body than it could handle but that's nothing a long night of sleep couldn't fix. Finally giving in to the exhaustion, your body fell into the darkness of dreamland.

"Damn... what the fuck?" an unfamiliar voice rang through your home not reaching your brain in its unconscious state.

"Oh~? They're a cute one."

A groan slipped from deep within your soul as you began to wake up, stiff from the uncomfortable position you'd fallen asleep in on your couch. Your eyes remained screwed shut, not wanting to be awake at the moment but your body was screaming at you to ease the strain on your sore muscles.

You willed yourself to stretch out, baring resemblance to a cat as your arms reached out as far as possible above your head, legs mimicking the motion in the opposite direction. As you tried to turn your hips to finish off the most satisfying stretch of your life, they wouldn't move. It felt like they were pinned to the couch underneath you.

A groan of annoyance and confusion left your body at the incomplete stretch of your body, a huff escaping your lungs as your relaxed back down. Still not opening your eyes, not prepared for the blazing sunlight that threatened to seep through your eye lids as you attempted to roll to your side, yet again your hips didn't separate from the cushion underneath them.

"Can you stop fucking moving?" a growl filled your ears of an unfamiliar voice, sending a shiver across every nerve in your body. Alarms blaring in your head as your eyes shot open, flailing to get up as your fight or flight kicked in. The weight on your pelvis suddenly registering in your new found consciousness.

The weight remained unmoving as you looked down to see what the culprit of it was, seeing a heap of giant black...wings!? The adrenaline coursed through your veins, fueling your body to actually work. Pushing whatever the fuck was on your lap off of you with a strength you didn't know you had. A loud thud pierced your eardrums followed by a hiss as it made contact with the floor.

Only then being met with glowing pink orbs, piercing your soul and freezing you in place. It was a person? No. Not a person, people don't have giant black wings and a tail. People don't have eyes that glow neon pink. Your brain was desperately trying to comprehend what it was seeing, running a million miles a minute trying to come up with any realistic explanation for what you'd woken up to.

Unfortunately your brain wasn't making sense of the situation fast enough. The creature was standing up off the ground and rubbing their bare shoulder. Your eyes were frantically looking around your apartment which was still exactly how you'd left it the night prior, no evidence of a break in.

"Didn't I tell you to stop moving?" the creature growled again in annoyance, rolling the shoulder they seemed to have landed on, taking slow languid steps towards you. "Do you humans not know how to obey a fucking order?" the words brought your attention back to the creature closing in on you, your body instinctively backing away from the threat making it's way closer to you.

But of course your back hit the wall, inevitably corning you as they continued stalking closer. Your eyes scanned down the body in front of you, alarms going off in your head again for different reasons now. These alarms are the ones that finally got your mouth working.

"WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU NAKED!?" that was definitely not the first thing you'd expected to ask the stranger. Literally anything else would've been a better thing to ask like, who are you? or how'd you get in my apartment? but no, you saw cock and your touch starved brain just needed to make note of it.

"That's the first thing your human brain decides to ask me?" the creature tsked in mocking, pausing their advances to chuckle. The fear in your eyes bringing them enjoyment, your body shaking only bringing more chuckles from their chest.

"N-no! who are you!? what are you doing in my apartment!? how did you even get in here!?" your brain started working out all the questions in your head at the same time, causing you to frantically blurt out your questions way too quickly for the other to respond.

"You humans really are as stupid as they say..." long, black, talon-like fingers carded through the long blue locks that nestled neatly on the top of their head with a sigh. You couldn't find a response, hoping the other would finally explain what was going on.

When the silence egged on for a bit too long the towering male finally spoke up again. "Do you forget that you literally summoned me forever ago before falling unconscious?" his eyebrow quirked up in questioning as last night's events began replaying in your brain.

"It- no. that didn't- it was a fucking prank, nothing happened last night." your gaze still refusing to meet his and you weren't sure if you were trying to convince the one in front of you or yourself with your words, neither working as the creature erupted into a sickly cackle, a chill running down your spine as you felt yourself start to break out into cold sweats.

This was so so wrong. This can't be real, you're still asleep right? RIGHT!?

"You wouldn't have a succubus standing in front of you if that was the case now would you doll?" his words made another shiver run down your spine. The tone was flirty, almost hypnotizing you as you felt your body begin to heat up. Eyes finally traveling from the floor, up the expanse of the other's body and to their face.

Your gazes locked together and no matter how hard you tried, no matter how loud your brain was screaming at you to run, you couldn't. You were locked in a trance caused by those glowing pink eyes that made you feel nauseatingly bare and vulnerable. It felt like your skin was ripped open and flipped inside out, showing the other every single thing you'd kept tucked away inside for no other soul to see.

Your soul was barren and exposed to the other, you could feel them inside your brain, pulling out every single thought, desire, and need you'd ever felt. You body was betraying you, stepping closer to the other as you lost control of yourself, handing it all over to this stranger, this thing, that so easily willed every single drop of control from your cells.

Your body felt like it was on fire, your brain turning into cotton candy, the voice of the other ringing in your head accompanied by your heartbeat that pounded loudly in your ears. "That's it~ just like that. Give it all to me. Every wish, every desire, every want, every need. Give me your lust and I'll serve you. I will be your sexual servant until the day I'm rewarded with that sweet soul of yours."

Before you knew it, those long black fingers wrapped around your jaw, talons digging into the flesh of your burning cheeks forcing your mouth open. Your gazes never breaking as he took complete control of your psyche, senses flooding with nothing but him.

Your tongue lolled out of your mouth, the pink wet muscle twitching for the other as they leaning in closer and closer. Your pupils were blown wide as the taller male stuck his own tongue out and it began to tangle with yours, ripping a submitting whimper from somewhere deep inside of you, your body fully submitting to the entity that ripped all control from your being.

Your gazes remained locked on eachother as drool began spilling from your mouths, creating glistening trails down the hand that remanded wrapped around your jaw. The dance of your tongues pulling heaving breaths from your chest as your lips finally connected and you felt your body shaking, almost vibrating in the grip of the other.

The long sleek black tail encompassed your waist in a vice grip as the kiss grew more heated, more desperate as your lips clashed together fighting against one another. Then the demon shut his eyes, breaking the trance you were trapped in and your body gave out. Every muscle burned and your body trembled as all the strength left you, the only thing keeping you from melting to the floor was that tail that'd locked around your waist.

Breaking the connection between the two of you, ripping his lips from yours. A messy string of saliva keeping you two connected for just a moment longer before the other used their tail to ease you to the ground. Your body convulsed as if you'd just had the most intense orgasm of your life.

Your chest heaved in a desperate attempt to recover the oxygen that you'd been deprived of in that mind frying exchange that left you barely hanging onto your own consciousness. Your limbs were buzzing as you remained in a puddle on the floor. You were left as just a fraction of what you once were, a searing pain on your tongue barely registering in your brain as you fought to recover. Inevitably losing the battle and slipping back into a state of unconsciousness.

The demon watched as you finally gave into the rest your body desperately needed, your fight lasting significantly longer than any of the other humans he's dealt with in the past. This causing his interest to peak as he crouched down to your still trembling but unconscious form. His fingers pushing the hair that stuck to the sweat on your face back, feeling something new as he gazed at your beauty.

"You're a special one aren't you..." he hummed, asking nobody in the silent apartment since he knew you couldn't answer. He wasn't sure what the feeling was that coursed through his veins. It was something new, something special that he'd never experienced in his eternity as a succubus and in that moment, he knew he was fucked.

Your body felt even heavier as you stirred, waking up from what felt like a month long coma. Your brain began to recall the last two times you were conscious, memories causing you to shoot up from where you lay, looking around frantically trying to gather yourself.

Instead of waking up on the floor, you were in your bed and you were alone. Everything seemed normal as you concluded that everything that had happened was just a horrible nightmare. Letting out a sigh of relief, relaxing further into the safety of the plush blankets that encompassed your body and nuzzling into to comfort of your mattress.

Unfortunately that comfort didn't last long as you suddenly felt really really hot. Throwing the blankets off your body trying to cool off with the air of your ceiling fan cascading across your clammy, sweat covered, flesh but you just kept feeling hotter and hotter. Ripping the clothes off your body also did nothing to satiate the heat that was radiating off of you, a frustrated whimper escaping your throat through clenched teeth.

You screwed your eyes shut in frustration, using your hands to wipe off the sweat that continued to drench your skin. The stinky feeling of being drenched in sweat was just frustrating you more as your sheets stuck to your skin. You continued writhing around desperately in agony, needing some form of relief from the heat that kept building, wet hot tears streaming down your cheeks now.

You finally decided to climb out of bed and take an ice cold shower as a final attempt to cool off, but as soon as you stood up and put your weight on your feet you were hit with a dizziness you'd never experienced before. It felt like your insides were boiling as you crumpled to the floor, the spinning in your head racking your body with overwhelming nausea.

Suddenly your bedroom door flew open and your vision continued spinning as you looked up to see none other than the demon standing in the doorway. Your expression displaying your anguish as the demon leaned against the doorframe nonchalantly with muscular arms crossed across the expanse of his broad, muscular chest. A groan ripped through you, followed by a gag as the male's form wavered back and forth in your vision.

You clutched your stomach, your finger nails digging deeply into the flesh, far too uncomfortable in your own skin. Unfortunately your stomach was too empty from not eating in two days to actually expel anything from it as your dry heaved. You were clawing at the rug under your knees with the hand that held your body up, the other hand still digging into the flesh at your side.

You were fucking desperate to stop feeling everything. To calm the storm of nausea and to stop the searing heat inside your organs. All you felt was disparity.

As if he could read your mind, the succubus approached you and got on his knees on the floor in front of you before scooped you into his arms. He wrapped himself tightly around you, his skin was ice cold as he tried to cover as much of your flesh as he could with his own to cool you off. You were already beginning to feel some relief from the heat but your insides still felt like they were boiling.

A desperate whine escaped you, tears still steadily pouring down your face as your frantically nuzzled into the coldness that was the demon. Surely you looked like a drug addict going through withdrawal as your nails dug into the tan skin of the other, leaving bright red streaks all over the previously pristine skin.

Your brain was everywhere but also no where at the same time, you felt like a feral animal, writhing in pain and clawing at everything your nails came into contact with but the demons grip never wavered and never loosened as he held you tightly against him.

"Hot... so- so hot... please... s-stop it..." you were babbling at this point, not even sure if your words even came out coherently. "Shhhhh my sweet, I know. I know. I'm sorry." the demon's words seemed painfully sincere and his grip remained firm. He genuinely seemed to want to make it stop, soft hisses escaping his lips as your nails drew blood.

The whirring and buzzing in your head was so loud and you truly felt like your sanity was slipping. You couldn't focus on anything other than the need to cool down, when suddenly you were pulled into a firm kiss. His lips locked with yours as they moved together lazily and your body began to still. Your mind was finally quiet, the buzzing stopping completely as the demon's tongue filled your mouth, and began licking at every surface it could reach, causing your body to finally cool down.

Your insides no longer felt like they were boiling as the calm feeling took over you. It felt like you'd escaped an inferno just to be plunged into the deepest part of the ice blue ocean. A whimper of relief was swallowed by the demons mouth as his tight grip remained. You turned in his lap to straddle the strong muscles of his thighs, not breaking the languid kiss as your arms wrapped around his neck keeping your half lidded eyes locked on the demon.

With your mind and body finally settled, you were finally able to admire his beauty. He had long black eyelashes that rested softly on the tan skin of his cheeks and his eyebrows were beautifully straight and well kept. His midnight blue hair contrasted perfectly against the tan skin that was void of any imperfections. Pulling away from the kiss and panting heavily, your mouth remained parted slightly as your eyes traveled down the expanse of his facial features.

He had such a soft and round button nose and his cheeks were puffy, resemblance uncanny to a squirrel or chipmunk. His lips were spit slicked, red, and swollen from the kissing and he had a soft jawline that made him look far too cute for a demon. His eyes fluttered open to meet your glassy ones, the pink wasn't as intense as your first meeting. They seemed hazy and darker, the color look closer to a magenta than the blazing hot pink from before.

"It's lust. I'm a demon of lust and after we sealed the contract, your lust that you kept pent up poured out at full intensity. It normally isn't this bad but I guess you've been keeping it at bay for far too long." his voice was soothing as he explained what had happened to your body. The voice no longer emitting panic from you and instead replacing that with a serene type of calm. This demon was completely different than before. He seemed almost... tamed?

You hummed at the new information, your brain still a bit hazy as your hips began rolling slowly across the demons still bare cock, now making you realize that you were also completely naked as the rock hard cock slipped between your folds. Your arousal slicking up the long expanse of his shaft.

The fucked out expression still on your face as you stared at him with so much need and intensity that he felt his breath hitch. His was cock twitching in response to your movements and pressing against that sensitive bundle of nerves causing your body to jolt slightly. A whimper of pure need slipped past your swollen lips as your lashes fluttered slightly, not wanting to let your eyes close so you could keep admiring the pretty demon in front of you.

"Well, why don't you help me out with my lust and service me? My pretty demon." you hummed as your hips began to pick up their pace ever so slightly. The cock resting beautifully between your folds was drenched in your juices and the fluids began cascading further past where you were connecting, coating the muscular thighs in them as well. Sloppy wet sounds filling the room as his cock continued to slip against your core and you continued rolling your hips against it. The lewd and sloppy sounds causing goosebumps to erupt along your skin in arousal.

"Jisung. My name is jisung." the demon purred as the hands resting on your hips tightened into a bruising grip slightly guiding your hips and sharp pricks from his claws barely braking the skin causing you to hiss and arch your back. You were so sensitive and so desperate that you began to drool all over your chin and down the male's chest.

"God, you're such a messy slut for me. So fucking filthy." his words had venom laced through them that embarrassingly made you whimper, your hips starting to stutter as the still sore muscles in your thighs began to burn. Jisung must've noticed your struggling because in a flash he had your positions swapped, pinning you to the floor keeping his cock flush against you, not letting it slip in just yet.

The long slender fingers left their places on your hips, one hand planted firmly next to your head to keep the larger male above you as the other snaked up your sides. Razor-like claws stinging as they painted long red marks up your skin before lightly grazing across your collarbone. The digits wrapping eerily around your throat, pinning you filmy to the ground.

The grip was strong but not strong enough to cut off airflow, just enough to cause you to go lightheaded, a whine ripping through you as the demon kept his hips still. Your desperation causing you to plant your feet firmly to the floor and begin frantically grinding up against the cock that remained nestled between your folds.

"p-please... ji-sung...." you gasped and choked out, eyes pleading with the seemingly unfazed demon. His poker face was unbroken but he was fighting his own battle to keep from ripping you in half on his cock, having his way with you. and making you scream for him.

"But you're doing such a good job fucking yourself against my cock. Go on doll, use me to fall apart." he said before shifting his weight to be supported by his thighs as a sharp smack landed on your cheek, the sting settling into the reddening skin before another one followed in the exact same spot.

You were about to beg to be filled when your hips began to convulse, eyes rolling back as a silent scream ripped through your chest. You were cumming harder than you've ever cum in your entire life. Squirting all over the tan skin and tensing muscles as the demon rolled his hips to coax you through it.

"That's it, that's my pretty slut, covering me with your cum from getting slapped. Such a good fucking whore." his final sentence came out as a growl through clenched teeth. The sound was primal, almost animalistic and it only spurred you to keep cumming harder.

Your hole fluttered desperately around nothing as your thighs began to shake, body hitting the floor as you came down from your orgasm. The hand on your throat unwrapped itself and the demon sat back on his haunches watching your body twitch in bliss. His cock still painfully hard when you came to.

Seeing his rock hard cock still drenched in your orgasm, his abs glistening as your fluids cascaded down, and the sloppy wet mess you'd made of the demon made you need more. You were left panting on the floor as your trembling fingers wrapped around the backs of your thighs, spreading yourself open for the demon, your hole still fluttering and grasping around nothing and needing to be filled.

"Come on Sungie~ I can take it. Fill me with you cum, please?" you purred and you could see his eyes change. That feral hot pink flashing over the darker magenta color, seemingly fighting his urges as his eyes remained locked on your sloppy hole.

"Don't fight it su-AH!" you didn't get a chance to finish your sentence as the demon bottomed out inside of you, the burning stretch of his huge cock making you scream but your screaming only seemed to spur him on further as his hips began slamming into you.

His hips were immediately relentless as he jack hammered into you, his cock so big it caused a bulge to form in your belly every time he bottomed out. Gutteral growls and grunts erupted from the demons throat as his talons dug into your hips, holding you in place. "Oh fuck- so fucking sloppy and tight-" he growled, his hips never fathering.

The pain of the stretch and overstimulation mixing with the pleasure of his cock stretching your walls and abusing your sweet spot was so overwhelming. Your nails were digging into the muscles of Jisung's back, sure to draw blood as you continued screaming out for the other.

"fuck! oh my- ngggghhh! Ji- fuck! sung!" you couldn't form a coherent sentence if you tried, it all felt too good as you were practically split open on the monstrous cock. Your back was arching off the ground harshly as he leaned forward, both your chests flushed together and you could feel his sharp canines dragging against the soft skin along the column of your neck.

"You said you could take it didn't you? come in doll~ don't make me make you eat your words." his voice was deep, causing chills to run along your skin as wanton moans continued to escape you. The knot in your stomach snapping once again as you clamped tightly around the cock buried deep inside of you, earning a hiss from the demon who's pace remained bruising.

"So fucking tight- squeezing my cock so good like the fucking whore you are." the demon pushed himself back up one one hand to stare down at your fucked out expression as you were slammed back into overstimulation after your second orgasm, the demon not stopping anytime soon.

His free hand moved up your body to grab your jaw again, pushing his fingers into your cheeks to force your teeth to separate and your mouth to open wide for him. Drool was all over your cheeks and your chin, covering the hand that held your mouth open.

"Such a sloppy bitch. I fucking love it~" his words caused your stomach to tighten and your hole to clench around him again, eliciting another deep moan from him. "Such a good fucking whore, you were made to take this fucking cock weren't you?" his sentence ended with him spitting on that sloppy pink muscle in your mouth and a broken whimper left your body.

"f-f-fuck... I'm... ngggghhh" you couldn't even tell the demon you were gonna cum again before you were convulsing on his cock again. Overstimulation becoming way too much for your body that was vibrating and trembling and your brain was melted into a puddle.

"I'm gonna stuff you full of my fucking cum, you better take it all like a good fucking Fleshlight." he grunted out, you weren't coherent enough to respond as the hand holding your mouth open wrapped around your throat again, squeezing the sides to cut off blood flow and bring you that euphoric dizzy feeling again.

He continued to abuse your hole as he approached his own orgasm. You clenched your teeth as your back arched off the ground again, drool spilling from the corners of your mouth as you were fucked silly by the demon. One of your hands wrapped around the wrist that held you by your throat, nails digging into the unmarked flesh in an attempt to keep yourself conscious.

Your other hand clawed at the muscles in his back again before becoming a tight fist with whitening knuckles as your repeatedly punched the demon in the side and back, far too overwhelmed to go any longer. "My slut feeling so good she can't handle it? Have to hit me to keep from going brain dead huh? Demon cock too much to handle doll?" his words were mocking, rubbing it in that he did in fact make you eat your words.

Luckily after just a couple more slams into you, his movements stilled as his cock twitched deep inside you. Hot white ropes painted your insides, his cock filling you so much that his cum had nowhere to go as it slipped out from around his cock where you clamped around him again and you were wrecked by a fourth orgasm. His hips were barely moving in and out as he rode out his high, causing more cum to leak out from where the two of you were connected.

Once his orgasm ended he slowly pulled out of you, a whine escaping you as you continued convulsing on the floor. His cum was leaking out of your stretched out hole and mixing with the fluids of your own orgasm, both of your sweat, your droll and spit, and other bodily fluids that covered both of you and formed a puddle on the floor.

You your panting heavily, brain still melted and you felt the demon scoop you up from the floor. You weren't lucid enough after the fuck of your life to say, do, or think anything as you lay limp in his arms. Next thing you could feel was water encompassing your body and a rag was being dragged along your sticky flesh. Your eyes remained shut, still unable to register much of anything happening. It felt like you were outside of you body, watching the demon care for you.

For a sex demon, Jisung was awfully sweet after the contract was sealed. He gave you a bath and took his own with you, having your back pressed against his chest as he held you up in the water and cleaned you up. He did a very thorough job of getting every sticky fluid off of your body and out of any crevices it could've ended up, even shampooing your hair twice to get everything out of it.

After the bath, he wrapped a towel around his hips and dried you off with a towel of your own before carrying you bridal style to your bed which luckily stayed clean due to fucking on the floor. He planted you softly in the bed and wrapped you up in your blankets. Next, he removed the towel wrapped around his waist and used it to ruffle his wet hair once again, drying it off as much as possible before using it to clean up the floor.

You watched him through half lidded eyes, vision still hazy as he cleaned up the mess. When you saw him turn to leave, your shaking hand wrapped around his ice cold wrist causing the demon to look at you. "D-don't go... s-stay?" your voice was so small and fragile as you pleaded with the demon.

You couldn't see it but his cheeks heated up at your adorable actions, a funny feeling in his chest and his heart beating a bit faster. Even if he wanted to say no, which he definitely did not, how could he when you looked at him with a pout on your lips and those sparkly puppy dog eyes.

Letting out a fake annoyed sigh, he climbed into the bed behind you, spooning your smaller frame. He stayed above the covers, still completely naked but luckily you'd gotten use to the fact that the demon never wore any clothes. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you back against his strong form, holding you tightly as you fell asleep.

Once your soft snores filled the room and your chest rose and fell rhythmically as you breathed deeper, he knew you were asleep. He carded his fingers through your hair and took a moment to just admire how stunning you were, pout still on your lips as you slept and that strange fluttery feeling filled his chest again.

"How the hell am I supposed to say goodbye to you and take that beautiful soul..." he mumbled to himself, now fully aware of just how fucked he truly was and it was all because of you. A beautiful human who was perfect inside and out. "...I just had to go and get tamed by a stupid human." he mumbled but the expression on his face contradicted his cold words. The fond smile on his lips and the sparkle in his eyes when he gazed at you told a completely different story.