Reblog If You've Ever Cried Over The Death Of A Fictional Character

"Good morning, peanut~💛"

You promised!

Summary: Reuniting with someone from the past. It doesn't go as planned.

Pairing: Logan x G!N Reader (platonic) x Deadpool x G!N Reader (Platonic)

Warning: Smoking, language, death, death threats, Angst

maybe some bad grammar and wrong punctuation.

(sorry if Deadpool isn't funny enough)

That night still haunts you, the screams echo in your ears, and the pile of your friends' dead bodies that you had to dig your way out of still makes your skin crawl. Fortunately, your ability to summon/ commune with the dead also gave you the power of immortality. 

You did everything you could to help but you were just a kid…your heart racing trying to find the one person who you thought could protect you…your kitten. Of course, he would rather be at a stupid bar than wear the stupid yellow spandex. When he came stumbling back where he found you covered in ash crying. Sadness turned into spite, how could he leave you? He promised to keep you safe! 

You couldn’t stand the sight of him…so you ran. That was the last time you saw Logan..or so you thought.

You tried to use your powers to conjure your friend's spirits but you couldn’t.

Years passed, and you lived a normal life. Until some weirdo with outdated references wearing a red spandex suit was in your apartment building lobby. He cut you off at the stairs spreading both his arms out so you couldn’t walk around him “Well hello pookie” The weirdo welcomed you as you glared at him “Do I know you?” You muttered, reaching into your messenger bag to grab something that could be used as a weapon. You were in no mood for what this ass has to say. The weirdo stood more relaxed “I’m Deadpool aka Marvel Jesus” the Spandex introduced, you raised an eyebrow “What? Marvel Jesus? What the fuck?” you wondered making Deadpool gasp at you “Oh just spit in my face! Did my peanut teach you that?! You’re too young to be speaking like a drunken sailor” Deadpool declared, clenching his nonexistent pearls. You wondered why he acted like you knew his peanut? If his friends were half as annoying as him then you doubt that you knew them.

Deadpool booped your nose making you swat his hand “My, my aren’t you a violent child” Deadpool teased, if he kept doing this Applebee's comedy night routine you were gonna need a joint. You dug through your bag, grabbed a joint from the container you kept, and lit the one in your hand. “I need your help saving the multiverse from this asshole named Paradox which is the stupidest name ever!” Deadpool announced, and you raised an eyebrow “The multiverse?” You repeated in disbelief that what this man was saying was true. You blew a cloud of smoke into Deadpool’s masked face, “as much as I would like to inhale secondhand smoke” the comedic took the joint out of your hand “I’m gonna need you to be sharp” Deadpool explained pressing the lit part of the joint on the no smoking sign. You crossed your arms “to save the multiverse?” You laughed, at this point you were expecting that you were on a prank channel.

Deadpool's whole demeanor changed “The point cupcake, is that everyone I care about will die if we don’t stop that asshole Paradox.” Deadpool was serious, there was no funny tone in it. You released a heavy sigh, ever since the fire you were done with all that heroic shit “Why me?” You wondered, he could have picked an actual crime fighter “Why you?! You’re Y/N! You were a part of Baldilock's merry band” Deadpool reminded you. The memories of when you were an X-men in training that you tried so hard to forget came rushing back, you tilt your head your eyes threw daggers at the dickhead in front of you who the fuck did he think he was making a joke about your friends.

You scoffed “it’s Deadpool, right?” You asked clenching your fists, the jackass got all giddy “Oh my god! Y/N remembers my name!” The mercenary exclaimed as if he was meeting Hugh Jackman. You grabbed him by his chest and pulled him towards you till you were inches apart “Get out of my way or I’m going to ram your head through a damn wall” you threatened beneath your breath.

Deadpool didn’t look intimidated, he looked over his shoulder “I can see why you like her, Peanut!” Deadpool yelled as if that was a queue. You heard footsteps coming down the stairs, you released the mercenary from your grip “You can thank Marvel H. Christ later” Deadpool patted you on the back before standing in front of the door that leads into the streets. Your heart sank into your stomach, Did this guy want you so badly that he brought someone with him to rough you up?!

The backup descended the stairs, and when his face came into view you froze, Your eyes glossed no, not him…anyone but him. You hoped this was just a nightmare, you kept pinching yourself hoping you would wake up in your apartment…but nothing happened, he was here.

 Logan gave you a warm smile “Hi, bub” he took a small step towards you, but you took a step back “Don’t!...don’t call me that!” your voice muttered, why would he think that it would be okay for him to call you that?! “Bu-kid, we need your help” Logan begged in a hushed tone like you were going to agree because the alcoholic asked nicely. You started to laugh “You…think…I’ll go…anywhere… with you?” You asked in between, you had to hold your stomach because you were laughing so hard. Deadpool took a step towards you two “Hi, sorry to interrupt but I’m kinda on a time crunch so can we-“ “Shut the fuck up!” You and Logan yelled in unison, Deadpool stepped back.

You looked back at Logan ”Y/N I’m so sorry” Logan apologized, you glared at him “That’s it?! That’s all you can say?! You went to get fucked up instead of being there…and all you can say is your sorry?!” You scoffed; it was like putting a band-aid over a bullet wound. It does nothing. You felt all the old feelings you tried to suppress seep through “I know and I’ll hate myself for that for my entire life” Logan admitted, you shook your head pinching the bridge of your nose to contain your emotions, trying not to cause a scene that would get the neighbors attention, “I can’t do this” you mumbled re-adjusting your messenger bag on your shoulder. 

Your eyes glossed as you tried to make it to the stairs but Logan blocked your path “Logan, please just step to the side. I don’t want to do this” Your voice cracked

“I can’t do that, Y/N”

“Just please move”

“I can’t kid” 

“Please move Logan”

“Bub, Please!”

“GET OUT OF MY FUCKING WAY!”

Tears started to run down your cheeks your fist pounded against Logan's chest “Move” you weakly repeated, he didn’t budge or fight back. You felt as powerless as you did the night of the fire. You felt like you were one big joke to the universe.

 Logan tried to wrap his arms around you but you pushed yourself away from him, “Y/N” Logan called, you didn’t let him say more of his half-ass apology “Why weren’t you there?” you wondered crossing your arms over your chest, you remembered that he went to the bar but you wanted him to admit it. The man in front of you never answered, your eyes glossed “Why weren’t you there?! I needed you and you weren’t fucking there! You promised me that you would protect me! I trusted you! I looked up to you! You were my hero!” You admitted wrapping your arms around yourself as tears ran down your cheeks once again. Logan looked like he was on the verge of tears himself “I’m sorry, I’m here now” Logan promised, You shook your head “I don’t need you now! I needed you back then! Where were you…when I needed you?” You stated you noticed some people were opening their doors. 

Your eyes met Logan “I hate you” you sniffled, and Logan's lip quivered “I wish you would kill yourself, you would be doing me and everyone else in this world a fucking favor” Your tone was emotionless, Logan was taken back even Deadpool was speechless. You were emotionally drained, this time you successfully pushed past Logan and ran upstairs to your apartment.

You slammed the door Bang! You threw your bag on the ground and jumped into your bed shoving your face into your pillow to muffle your cries. You hate him. You hated that you trusted him. You wished you never met him. 

Back in the Lobby

Logan kept staring at the stairs silently hoping that you were going to come back down, hoping that you had a change of heart and the two of you could start over, a single tear escaped down his cheek. 

Wade stepped towards the Wolverine, “Why didn’t you tell her that those sons of bitches could fix your shit?” the mercenary wondered, Logan wiped away his tear before looking at that red fucker “They’ve been through so much…I didn’t want to get their hopes up. It’s not like they would believe me anyway” Logan admitted Wade placed his hand over his heart “Aw look whose heart grew three sizes” Wade mocked, making the Wolverine glare at him. Wade internally panicked, he needed Logan since he was an anchor beam and it’s not like this Logan could start fresh with the Y/N from his universe since they're dead. Meaning that Wade had to come up with something and fast.

Wade groaned making Wolverine snap his head toward him “This is the worst episode of Dr.Phil ever!” Wade whined. Wade grabbed Logan “You stay here and I’ll go talk to your precious Y/N who left like they were about to cut their hair, okay Peanut” Wade explained, surprisingly Logan agreed. Wade skipped towards the stairs. Wade saw some neighbors snooping “Yes children it’s Moi. Nothing to see here” Wade assured, he was about to introduce the peepers to Baby Knife but the peeping toms got the hint and closed their doors.  

As Wade reached Y/N’s apartment he tried to figure out how to persuade them to join him and his Peanut. He needs them to say yes so he can save his family.

The Mace Windu novel The Glass Abyss has a romance plot running through it and I wasn't sure I liked it at first, but the way the book portrayed it wound up really fascinating me. If I hadn't known ahead of time, I wouldn't have known it was intended to be a romance, and I think in part that was deliberate because Mace as a character doesn't care that he's a Jedi and in a romantic relationship. Like, it's just not an issue! There's nothing contradictory there! There is absolutely zero conflict about being in a romantic relationship within him, there is not so much a single sentence in the entire book about how it would conflict with the Jedi way or that it's wrong. Instead, it's about Mace wanting to choose his path with his eyes open, that relationship is part of another path he could take, but the point of the book is for Mace to realize that he is a Jedi, through and through, and there's never any "oops, guess I shouldn't have fucked her" about the relationship even once he reaffirms himself as a Jedi. It is true that he cannot stay with her, he cannot prioritize her above his duty, the relationship ends with mutual care and parting, that they're two people who have different paths and you're left with the sense that their paths might cross again and that would be fine, they would meet again if that would happen. Otherwise, they take with each other the memories and affection, but they're both needed elsewhere. He cared deeply for her, but he was not attached to her. Mace is presented as a rather traditionalist Jedi in the book and even he has no problems or conflict with a Jedi having a romantic relationship, when that relationship doesn't cross over into attachment (the desire to keep them because you're afraid to live without them, putting staying with them over the thousands of lives you could help across the galaxy), which is exactly how I've seen the Jedi's views on romantic relationships! The Jedi have always said that feelings are normal, it's what you do with them, it's that you don't let them rule you. Obi-Wan says it in The Clone Wars, "It's not that these [romantic] feelings aren't allowed. They're normal." You just can't be a Jedi and devote yourself to a romantic partner above your vows. But the romance and feelings themselves? The relationship happening while you're in one spot? As long as you maintain your balance? There was not one single moment that Mace thought this wasn't allowed, not even when he reaffirmed his Jedi path. He had to go at the end of their adventure, but the relationship was never wrong or against who he was as a Jedi.

Tender Times

⚠18+ [Suggestive] Themes, [Frank Castle × Male Reader × Matt Murdock]

Minors, Ageless/Blank Blogs DNI

﹂Contains: Requested*, polygamous/throuple, two subs one top, domestic life, mentions of blood, fluff with a dash of spice

First thing in the morning a freshly brewed cup of coffee to jumpstart the day, followed by a pair of arms circling him from behind.

Matt's taken to getting up a few minutes earlier to spend them with you. Most of the times being when he ends up crashing at your place rather than his, he sometimes tends to oversleep after his nightly escapades.

Some nights he doesn't get much sleep with how you keep him up. He can still feel the lingering touches on his skin— the smell of you surrounding him, driving him crazy with desire.

If he didn't need to work today, he's sure he would have already dragged you back into bed. Let you have your way with him until all his senses were overwhelmed.

There's already a fresh set of clothes waiting for him, you help him get dressed— despite knowing he's fully capable. You just use it as an excuse to keep your hands on him for a few moments more before he has to head out for work.

"Want me to drop by for lunch?" Foggy and Kate have seen you before, though they're not entirely sure what your relationship with Matt is. They speculate that you're an old friend, one before his college days where he studied law with Foggy. It's not far off but there's more than meets the eye.

"We have a full schedule. So maybe dinner would be better?" He doesn't mind eating later than usual, as long as he gets to share a meal with you in the end. "Alright, go on and get to work then, Matty."

You obviously don't buy his whole blind act anymore since he's much too aware of his surroundings— that and you found out his little secret after a slip up. So you know more than you let on.

The side of his mouth lifts into a smile, "I'll be careful, don't worry." He steals a kiss, purposely missing your cheek and landing it on your lips.

You see him off with a small smile of your own, watching how his form blends into the bustle and hustle of the overcrowded city. It's not even half and hour before you hear a loud crash from the backdoor.

"Ah, look at you all bloody and bruised again, Frank." While it's become more often than usual, you don't turn him away or scold him too harshly. "It's not even Tuesday yet."

He doesn't even respond, just grunts and plops down onto a chair. His muscles are tense that much you can discern right away— other than the scattered scrapes and bruisings.

With a quiet sigh and a trip to the restroom for the kit, you place it down nearby and start working on his injuries. It's times likes these remind you of how vulnerable he truly is.

The subtle longing in his eyes as he leans into your hands as they disinfect a small cut on his cheek. Lips slightly parted when you ever-so-gently thumb his busted lip with a dollop of salve. He's gone soft on you. Hardly glares or bites at you for tending to him like this.

Once it's all said and done he looks up at you expectantly— lips quirked into a sly grin. Frank knows you're not going to chastise him like Matt does, he simply waits for his little reward as you lean down to kiss his wounded lips. However, it never comes which makes him frown.

Just as he was going to make a complaint there's a knock at the door— there goes his alone time with you.

As if.

His hand shoots out to grasp your wrist and tugs you down to him. "It's probably just the neighbor asking for sugar again," he mutters with a huff, face inches from your shoulder. "You're going to stay, right?" That sounded less like a question and more like a demand— a plea.

You keep him grounded, keep his ducks in a row so he doesn't go out and spill more blood. He is, still after all, a wanted man under the eyes of the law. It's your job now to stop him from getting into anymore problems.

And Frank knew you'd give in, the palms of your hands cradling his beaten face was conformation enough to know. Cheeky, you'd call him if he wasn't so coy.

Seems like you'll have to reschedule any errands you had planned. You're going to have your hands full keeping the Punisher entertained— and he's more than excited to have you all to himself.

Tocka-irbis © 2025 —Please -do not steal, translate, modify, repost on other platforms.

Hurts right in the feels😭

idk if you’re taking requests, but if you are, can i request another padawan reader with wolffe or fox? love all that you write!!

I love writing for Wolffe so much!

“Endure”

Summary: Ever wonder what happened to Wolffe and the pack after the tragedy of killing their Jedi? Me too, but what if there was a padawan along for the ride

Pairing: Wolffe x GN padawan Reader (Platonic)

Warning: Major character death, mentions and descriptions of injury and blood, butt load of angst no happy ending yet

Word count: 1475 being proof read

Notes: I couldn’t stop thinking about these boys all day and since Wolffe didn’t show up in the bad batch I’ve been wondering- how cool would it be if their was a show like the bad batch but with Wolffe and a padawan? Welcome to the first episode

“Wouldn’t want you falling behind now Wolfy” The commander heard the taunting voice of his padawan through the comm devices. Wolffe couldn’t help but roll his eyes that the quips you were throwing at him.

“I should be the one worrying about you keeping up.” He growled back through the comms. Wolffe watched as you and a few members of the Wolffe packed speed ahead of him and the general soaring through the air.

Coming next to him now Wolffe glance to the side of his ship to catch the head shake of Master Plo

“My dear commander what will we ever do with them?” Master Plo voice rang through Wolffe ship.

“Your the one that wanted a padawan, I unfortunately got stuck with the others.” Despite his words Wolffe couldn’t control the small smirk that played on his face as he watched his pack turn all fall back into the formation they were supposed to be flying in.

“My young padawan,” master Plo caught your attention as your ship neared both of theirs. “Since you are so eager to fly why don’t you go up ahead and scout for us.”

“On it master.” The cheeriness in your voice was hard to pass up as you flashed a quick smile at Wolffe as you zipped past him.

Another eye roll and soon Wolffe good eye would go bad- maybe he did roll it a little to hard this time, a small echo of a throb hurt the side of his head.

Wolffe hands griped the wheel harder this time and if on instinct before it even registered in his mind Wolffe was opening the message of the flashing comm device.

“Commander Wolffe, Execute order 66.”

Fear struck Wolffe first as the words bounced around in his head, did he even know what that meant? As quick as a light went out Wolffe forgot his worry and as if he was controlling himself from the passenger seat he pulled his ship back.

He didn’t need to look to see if his pack had done the same, working together for so long he knew they would follow him blindly.

Nothing in Wolffe’s mind expressed any doubt for what he was about to do next, all he knew was that he was the one to pull the trigger.

A scream echoed through the comm channel, but as quickly as it started it was gone. His sharp eye tracked the burning heap of a ship until it crashed into the ground bellow.

Did he regret it? Something in his mind whispered to him that he just shot down his general, one of his closet friends, his buir. A louder more dominant voice in his mind repeated over and over- kill the treasonous Jedi.

“Find and kill the padawan.” Wolffe snapped to his brothers as they all made their way to where they saw you disappear. Wolffe would find you, he had too.

Something wasn’t right- you happily flew out into the horizon. The thought of the war finally being over plagued your mind and you couldn’t help but think about what it’d be like when everything went back to normal.

No good things can last forever. A searing pain seemed like a title wave in your head, you wobbled for a moment trying to straighten out the ship.

Noise erupted throughout the force in an instant and only got louder and louder. Every word yelled seemed to blend and swirl together- all except one voice you knew too well.

“Master?” You spoke aloud seeing if you could reach him but static filled the air. A lump formed at the pit of your stomach and your vision wavered again. The force didn’t feel as it normally should, it was darker now.

“Wolffe what’s going on?” You tried the only other person who you knew could help you.

You looked over your shoulder as you were about to turn around and head back to see exactly what was going on when your eyes landed on the packs ships that were inbound.

A sigh reached your trembling lips as they grew closer and closer to your ever slowing ship- they would know what to do, especially if your master somehow…

Something made your spine itch as you watched your pack close in nearly reaching your position, no these weren’t the boys you knew. A darker aurora bleed into the once homey feeling of the 104th, it made you sick.

Without second thought you raced over the landscape followed closely in tow by Wolffe and his boys. The first shot fired upon you confirmed your ever growing fear. They were trying to attack you.

Blaster bolts upon blaster bolts rained against your ship, in an instant with a last ditch effort serve the wings engine was hit and the ground was coming at you a lot quicker than you wished.

Would you die knowing that your own men, your brothers killed you in cold blood- something had to be wrong with them, they would choose to do this.

Or would they?

The fighter hit the ground with a bang jolting you in your seat, pieces broke apart as the ship began the skid to a stop barely even recognizable as a ship anymore.

With one more attempt to open your eyes you watched as a piece of metal and rumbled fell along the glass window of the fighter. It cracked like a bolt of lightning across the sky, but the sight didn’t register in your mind as your head throbbed with pain and the sweet relief of unconsciousness took you in its hold

“Fighter shot down sir.” The deadpan voice of Sinker spoke to Wolffe. He watched the ship hit the ground, the wad of smoke was a good sign that there would be no survivors but Wolffe wasn’t a fool.

“I want to see the bodies, or we can assume the jetti survived understand?” His tone was harsh as he circled high above where your ship dropped only minutes ago.

As half of his squad went back to the first wreckage Wolffe and the rest started there descent to the world below.

Smoke filled the air and Wolffe had to stifle a cough under his helmet, his hands wouldn’t give up as he dug through the rubble.

“Sir over here.” Someone yelled for Wolffe as he quickly made his way over.

“That doesn’t look like a body to me trooper.” Wolffe spoke with such venom in his voice the shiny took a step backwards.

“Well sir we found this buried under this pile here,” The soldier paused for a moment handing Wolffe a arm brace, and what seemed to be half of a chest plate and shoulder guard. The symbol of the Jedi order haunted his vision. “The rock and metal is too heavy for us to lift on our own, and the fire makes it difficult.”

Wolffe knew what they were saying, stop their search and wait further instructions elsewhere- the maker knew he wanted to get out of this place quickly.

With a sigh and an eye roll Wolffe brought the armor down to him side before speaking lowly. “Take the men and head back to bass, see if the others can confirm their kill and wait there.”

“Your not coming commander?” Another voice asked.

“I want to make sure our work is finished.” Wolffe turned him back quickly on his men, maybe he should continue his search where the remains of a Jedi were strewn about but something else called to him.

The noise of ships taking off yet again filled his senses and only when they were gone did Wolffe start his dig once again.

His hand nearly went through a layer of broken glass as he pulled away. More smoke seemed to pour out of this hole when he turned his light on on the side of his helmet.

Wolffe scanned the shadowed room, a siren that wasn’t silenced in the crash kept blaring as Wolffe stuck his head inside.

That’s when the commander caught sight of a figure laying unnaturally towards the bottom of the broken ship. He recognized you immediately.

What part of him wanted to cry out when he saw you? Was it the old Wolffe, commander of the Wolffepack, or was it the quieted version of Wolffe he still has yet to understand.

Wolffe Face got closer and close taking in the sight- did he really do this, he was just following orders.

Good soldiers follow orders.

The slightest movement caught his well trained eyes, the up and down of your stomach was faint and Wolffe almost didn’t believe what he was seeing. You were still breathing.

You were still alive.

A hum of sorts took over in Wolffe brains as it had done before.

Within a blink Wolffe pulled out his blaster.

_____________________________________

Taglist: @arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @floffytofu @verybadatwriting @solstraalaa @ray-rook

LOST AND FOUND - THE SALESMAN

pairing: the salesman x top male reader

synopsis: A man starts noticing his belongings disappearing after every visit to his best friend’s house—until he stumbles upon the unsettling truth.

content warnings: 18+, bottom salesman, reader is fucking salesman's son, dubcon, blackmail, cheating, fingering, anal sex, implied stalking, dead dove do not eat.

word count: 1.6k

Dinner at your best friend’s house is always an experience.

Not because of the food—his dad’s a damn good cook, actually—but because of the company.

“Hyung, I’m telling you, this lady at work keeps calling me ‘oppa,’ and I don’t know how to tell her I hate it,” Jiho complains, waving his chopsticks for emphasis. “Like, I get it, I’m devastatingly handsome, but can we have boundaries?”

You snort, reaching for more rice. “You could just tell her to stop.”

“I did! And you know what she said? She said I ‘look like the type to enjoy it.’” Jiho groans, collapsing dramatically against the back of his chair. “I feel violated.”

Across the table, Jiho’s father hums, slow and thoughtful. “Perhaps you give off the impression of someone who enjoys attention,” he muses, sipping his soup.

Jiho gapes at him, offended. “You’re supposed to be on my side!”

You chuckle, glancing at Jiho’s father. He hasn’t said much tonight, but that’s not unusual. The man is a quiet observer, the kind of person who listens more than he speaks. You’ve had dinner here plenty of times before, and the pattern is always the same—Jiho chatting away, you chiming in, and his father interjecting with the occasional dry remark.

But tonight… feels different.

Jiho’s father has been watching you. Not obviously—just little glances, the weight of his gaze lingering longer than usual. His face remains unreadable, but there’s something sharp in his eyes, something calculating.

It’s not unfriendly, exactly. Just… unsettling.

“Hyung?” Jiho nudges your arm. “You good?”

You blink, shaking off the feeling. “Yeah. Just thinking about how you probably deserve that treatment.”

Jiho makes a wounded noise. “Et tu, Brute?”

Across the table, his father chuckles. A deep, quiet sound. When you glance at him, he’s already looking away, refilling his tea like he wasn’t just assessing you like a goddamn science project.

Yeah. Something’s up with him tonight.

You just don’t know what.

And that? That should’ve been your first warning.

You should’ve gone home.

Jiho had texted that he’d be late—something about running an errand for work—but you figured it was no big deal. You’d been to his house a thousand times before, and waiting around wasn’t exactly a hardship.

But the house was too quiet without him.

It’s why you found yourself wandering, aimlessly at first, then with purpose when you noticed something odd.

A door. Slightly ajar.

You didn’t remember Jiho ever mentioning this room before. Curiosity got the better of you, and you nudged the door open fully—only to freeze in place.

Inside, the walls were lined with shelves. Not with books or storage boxes, but with you.

Your bracelets. Your books. Your toothbrush.

And—most horrifyingly—your underwear.

Stacks of them, folded neatly. Some draped over surfaces, others tucked away like a grotesque collection. And at the very center, in a glass display case like some kind of prized possession, was a used condom—your used condom.

A sickening chill crawled up your spine.

What the fuck was this?

A shadow moved behind you. Before you could react, a deep voice spoke, low and amused.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to snoop?”

You turned sharply. Jiho’s father stood in the doorway, watching you with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You opened your mouth—whether to demand an explanation or to throw up, you weren’t sure—but he stepped forward, closing the door behind him with a click.

Trapping you inside.

“You’ve been quite careless,” he murmured, trailing a finger along one of the shelves. “Leaving so many things behind. Did you ever wonder where they went?”

Your pulse thundered in your ears. “What the fuck is this?”

Jiho’s father merely chuckled. “Just a collection. I like to keep things that interest me.”

Your stomach churned. This wasn’t just interest—this was obsession.

You tried to move past him, but he stepped in your way, his smirk widening. “Ah, ah. I wouldn’t be so hasty.”

You clenched your jaw. “Move.”

“And if I don’t?” His voice was light, conversational, but there was a razor-sharp edge beneath it. “You could run to Jiho. Tell him. But then I’d have to tell everyone something too, wouldn’t I?”

Your breath caught.

“I wonder,” he mused, tilting his head. “How would your workplace react? Your friends? Your family?”

Your hands curled into fists. You knew what he was implying. Being outed in this country—where tradition and reputation mattered—was a death sentence for your social life, your career, everything.

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “So, what will it be?”

Oh.

Oh hell no.

You let out a short, incredulous laugh, because there is no way this is happening. “Dude,” you blurt. “You do realize your son and I have been—”

“I’m very aware,” he interrupts smoothly, his gaze flickering down your form. “And I must say… I can see why he’s so taken with you.”

You should leave. You should run. But your legs don’t move. Because the way he’s looking at you—intense, predatory, like he’s testing something—sends a very different kind of shiver down your spine.

The air between you shifts.

He’s close now. Too close.

“You’re an interesting one,” he murmurs, reaching out—not grabbing, just hovering, his fingers barely ghosting over your arm. “Most people would be terrified right now.”

“Oh, I am,” you say, flashing a weak grin. “But I also have really bad coping mechanisms.”

His lips quirk up. “Is that so?”

Then, before you can think better of it—before you can stop yourself—you grab him by the tie and pull him in.

His smirk barely has time to widen before your lips crash together.

The kiss is messy. Heated. Too much, too fast, but neither of you seem to care. His hands find your waist, pulling you flush against him, while yours tangle in the expensive fabric of his suit. He tastes like something rich and intoxicating, and damn it, you hate how much you like it.

Your hands move to his waist as his move up to your shoulders, slightly changing the dynamics of the situation. He groans against your mouth at the friction against his crotch, making you hard.

This is wrong, so wrong, but there doesn’t really seem to be another way out.

You tug at his work pants, bringing them down with a firm grasp while pushing him onto the bed in the corner of the room– more like a shrine.

His cock emerges, hard and leaking. Your thumbs trails at the head-- picking up the precum that builds up at the slit. He shudders; he hasn’t touched himself like this in so long.

Wanting to finish what he wants as soon as possible, you shimmy down your own pants, revealing your own erection. You find yourself feeling ashamed at the fact that your grew hard from kissing your fuck buddy best friend’s father.

Searching through his coat pocket, the older man finds a small packet of lube and tosses it at you. You catch it before it flies past you– glaring at him. 

“You're no fun,” he grins, as you rip the packet with your teeth and pour the cool liquid onto your fingers.

You take your lubed digits to his awaiting hole and press them at his entrance, before pushing in. You weren’t going to give this man the mercy of your patience.

His back arched as he let out a loud moan. If your fingers felt this good, how would your cock feel in him?

His thoughts were interrupted by you moving your fingers in and out of him sloppily, not caring if the sudden intrusion hurt (he was a masochist, so you supposed it didn’t matter anyway).

Feeling that he had been prepped enough, you slid your digits out of his hole, and replaced the emptiness with your cock.

The head caught on to the slick of the lube, pushing in slightly– before you slid all the way in. You groaned at how tight he was– even tighter than Jiho if that were possible. You chided yourself for thinking like that before you pulled out almost all the way before slamming back in.

The man’s eyes rolled to the back of his head– your cock hitting the right spot with every thrust. You felt so, so good inside him, and his hole involuntarily clenched around you at the thought.

You held tightly onto his waist as you practically abused his hole, profanities leaving your mouth every now and then.

“Hah– never thought you would get of to being fucked by your son’s best friend, hm?” He could only mumble incoherently at the jab, his brain just too full with being fucked dumb.

He had been waiting so long for this to finally happen, for you to take him like this. He was aware of the relationship between you and his son, and he chose to exploit it instead of doing what a normal dad should do.

But it wasn’t like he was a normal person anyway.

At that thought, he felt himself clench around you more, fucking psychopath. You groaned, feeling his warmth, thrusting into him even further as though you were an animal in heat.

Soon, you felt yourself close to a climax, so you pressed your cock into him all the way, letting yourself come undone– painting his insides a pearly white, before whispering in his ear.

“You can throw away that condom now– you have the real thing in you anyway”, he came, almost violently, when he heard you say that– his semen staining his pristine suit.

You were going to pull out of him, when a sharp knock suddenly echoed through the house.

“Dad?”

You both freeze.

Oh. Oh, hell.

The door creaks open, and there stands Jiho —his son—staring at the two of you like he’s just walked into the world’s worst nightmare.

Silence.

More silence.

Then—

“What. The. Fuck.”

You sigh, forehead dropping against the older man’s shoulder. “Welp,” you mutter. “Guess I am gonna start screaming now.”

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time, and I take genuine effort to do them.

This is money cat. He only appears every 1,383,986,917,198,001 posts. If you repost this in 30 seconds he will bring u good wealth and fortune.

18+ SUB LOGAN H. | YOU SHARE A CIG

“Mmnnh... oh fuckin’... s‘good.”

It’s late into the evening, the streetlight rays exudes into the tinted windows of the car. LOGAN’S cock is hard against your thigh, arriving to the extremity where it’s nearly agonizing. The bright, whitish beams grace his features which were contorting in pleasure. Pre-cum steadily beads from his slit, leaving a glistening trail in its wake. He’s so fucking turned on, his calloused palms holding onto your shoulders as he rocks his hips back and forth, back and forth.

His sensitive tip repeatedly rubs against your skin, eliciting a sharp gasp from him. While you, damn you, take a long tempting drag from his infamous Cohiba cigar. You take a moment to exhale the smoke towards his face, a weak scowl etched across his expression before his mouth melts into a ‘o’ shape when he thrusts forward just right. He whines, his cock throbbing with his lazy grinding.

LOGAN doesn’t quite register exactly when you placed the tobacco stick between his plush lips, feeling a bit light-headed from the smog interlacing with the prominent scent of his arousal. In reality, you did it so he can be silent. Unbeknownst to him, he grew too loud for your liking; his gruff moans rising in volume enough for you to fear it’d slip through the gaps of the doors despite no one being within earshot.

“Still holdin’ up?” Your hand drags along his scarred, thick thigh. He nods, puffing out the fog between his teeth. His legs lock around one of your own every time his tip catches on the rough material of your shirt, forcing him to bury his forehead into the crook of your neck. Tainted exhales fan against your chest while he lets out restrained whimpers, humping you a little harder.

Lowkey forgot i blog revealed... anyways thinking of bratty logan jealous of u taking a call =p

You and him are holding each other closely as you lay in bed, him choosing to be the big spoon despite being much smaller than you, and you aren't paying as much attention to him as he'd like. Usually, you'd have your hand in his hair and scratch at his scalp, but you'd been on your phone for the past ten or so minutes and he was getting annoyed by the lack of attention.

So, he began trying to earn it from you. He pressed languid, open-mouthed kisses to your neck as he tried to peer over your body to see what you were holding to more importance than him, but gave up after a few minutes of nothing.

"What're you even doing?" Logan muttered out roughly, earning a hum from you.

"Working things out with my boss. Issue came up, we think it's the new hire's fault but he's pissed at me," you explained, showing Logan the long conversation you were having.

Logan groaned. "Pay attention to me, asshole," he scowled.

Logan bit at your neck. He pressed hickeys and bit down on your pulse points, tongue running over your pulse points and practically scenting you.

"Logan, quit."

"No."

You scoffed and frowned as your boss rang your phone to call. "I have to take this call. Keep quiet."

Logan turned over in the bed and you had felt bad, but he didn't care that you needed to get this done. As you focused on the call, you didn't even notice Logan had turned back... until you felt your boxers being tugged down. You shot an angry look over at Logan, but he only grinned lopsidedly and took your soft cock in his hands.

Logan rubbed you to half-mast and then took you in his mouth. You choked back a gasp and continued the call.

"Y-Yes, I know I was the last to document it, but I wasn't the last to... to handle it," you stammered out as you grasped Logan's hair roughly and helped him swallow you whole. You muted the call, ignoring your ranting boss.

"You fucking slut. You want my boss to hear us? I thought you didn't like sharing," you spat. Logan moaned needily while he choked on your cock, drizzling lube on your free hand's fingers and pumping them.

He blinked up at you with defiance in his eyes, rutting against your leg like a bitch in heat. You pulled him off your now-hard dick and motioned for him to let you prep him.

With just one finger in his tight heat, Logan bit down on his hand as to not squeal. You unmuted as you pushed your index in and out of his asshole and talked to your boss. After three fingers, Logan was breaking and healing his fingers so that he wouldn't make noise, but the second you muted he groaned out, "Fuck me, please, oh—right there, please!"

(Ummm i was gonna finish this but i wanna take a nap so pretend i wrote the rest where he rides you on call 😭😭 maybe ill finish another time)

-faggotblvd, AKA wolverine pussyfucker

I AM GOIJF TO GO FUCKING INSANE WHAT DO YOU MEAN BREAKING AND HEALING HIS FIBGEFS TO KEEP QUIET TTHIS IS THE ABSOLUTE BEST THING IVE RRAD RODAY