#FUCK YO FEELINGS WHEN I TELL YOU THE TRUTH

[suguann]

LOVE IT WHEN YOU CALL ME LOVER—JJK MEN.

✎. jjk men showing you how much they love you. | wc. 2k+

tags. fem!reader, window sex, possessive behavior, mirror sex, oral sex, public sex, pregnancy, fingering, praise kink, size kink

featuring. gojo, nanami, geto

masterlist

↬ GOJO

He doesn’t think you’ve looked more breath-taking than you do right then, humming softly to the music on the radio while painting your toenails, the last stretch of daylight kissing your exposed knees through the window. You’re so lost in your own little world that you don’t notice him watching you.

The important emails on his phone go unanswered, saved for another day when you’re not there to distract him. You stretch your smooth legs to inspect your work and glance across the living room to give him one of those soft smiles that sends warmth through his middle.

“What do you think?” you ask, little sunflower yellow toes flexing on the coffee table. 

“They’re pretty, baby.”

Another smile stretches across your face, that full lower lip caught between your teeth. “You think so?”

“Positive.” His phone lies forgotten on the cushion beside him, and he leans back to make room for you. “Come here.”

His eyes make a lazy trail up from your delicate ankle bone to the soft slope of your collarbone that peeks out from one of his t-shirts as you walk towards him, getting his fill until his fingers itch to touch and retrace the invisible path. 

Gojo can’t help it. He’s struck by the sight of you.

He wishes he could trap the shocked and delighted sound you make when he pulls you into his lap, keep it tucked away in the untainted nooks and crannies for him to return to later. A little melody on repeat for the days he feels undeserving of such sweet things, how he treads the fine line of corrupting that wide-eyed innocence you have of the world.

Still. Still, the truth is, he’s a little greedy, and he doesn’t really care how bad of a person that makes him.

Everyone looks up to him in some way. Nobody ever called him a saint. 

Gojo works out more of those soft sounds—pressing you against the chilly, tall windows in the living room, fist in your hair, and his mouth attached to the long column of your throat—that make his mouth go dry. Your back arches to ease the way he fucks up into you, tits brushing up against the glass, and he loves how the distant city lights below shimmer around you like a halo.

A high-pitched whimper, sharp breaths fogging over the window. “‘Toru people can see.”

He doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of how your soft and silky little cunt sucks him in—wrapped up all warm and wet around his cock—cursing under his breath when he tells you he doesn’t care. You’re his, anyway. 

“Let them see,” he grunts into your neck, teeth catching along your skin before licking at the vulnerable spot above your pulse. “Let them see how I fuck you because they can’t have you.”

Gojo can barely control himself at the mere idea that anyone would ever think they could. He’ll be the last and only one to know how you turn into a fucking vice when he hits particularly deep—how you shake like a leaf, legs coltish, after he makes you cum hard. 

↬ GETO

It feels like the epitome of terrible days: from the tomato stain on your skirt to your boss forcing deadlines down your throat and surprising Suguru at work only to find a pretty, willowy brunette sitting on the corner of his desk, her hand resting on a stack of graded papers, and fluttering her long lashes at him. 

The final nail in the coffin (a stupid nail, but a hammered-down nail nonetheless) is how she laughs and touches his arm, and Suguru doesn’t brush her off. He actually laughs back, all perfectly straight teeth on display and eyes crinkling at the corners. One of those heart-stopping smiles stretching across his face that you foolishly thought were all yours. 

Suddenly, you wonder if it was out of obligation that made him compliment you that morning in your dress—look at you, a kiss to your cheek, I’m going to fucking ruin you—a perfunctory greeting after being together so long (like making coffee or picking out paint), to make you feel better, or if he meant it—

A tap with sticky fingers to your cheek. “C’mon, watch.” 

You feel like you’re looking from the outside in, a spectator with a front-row seat that has your breath catching in your throat at the sight of his spit-slick chin and cheeks resting against the crease where thigh meets hip. He gives you a syrupy grin that tightens something in your stomach like a screw. 

“Not me,” he says, words laced with amusement. 

Hesitantly, your gaze trails up from his to the floor-length mirror perched in front of the bed, and what you see has your fingers sinking into the sheets. 

You can hardly pull your eyes away from how your leg looks draped across his broad, muscular back, making you look so small even though you sit above him. And it’s like Suguru knows what you’re seeing because his grin grows wider. 

“See, look how perfect you are. That woman in the mirror is so fucking pretty, I can’t believe I get to tell everyone she’s mine.” His thumb parts you open for his mouth. “Why would you think you look otherwise, huh?”

“I…don’t know,” you whisper, head a fuzzy mess of weak excuses that evaporate before they even have a chance to make it onto your tongue.

“Hm, that’s not a good enough answer.” 

Your hips twitch when he noses at your clit. 

“Awe, I bet that feels good, huh? I’m gonna show you what happens when you talk bad about my pretty baby,” then he sucks it into his mouth, making you squeal.

He can’t blame you for squeezing your eyes shut at the slick, hot pressure dragging through your folds—shaky fingers tightening in Suguru’s long, dark hair. It feels equally like everything and not nearly enough until he suddenly pulls away, taking that jittery feeling in your belly with him.

“Why’d you—”

“If you look away, I stop.” He chuckles lightly at the little pout you give him before his lips suck at the tender spot near the crease of your thigh, “so watch.”

↬ NANAMI

After lunch, he drags you across the street where there’s a park for him to set up a picnic blanket under a tree. Kento rests his head on your lap, slipping an arm around your waist and rubbing the sore spot in your lower back from being on your feet for too long. 

It’s all very innocent: him kissing your round pregnant belly, you running your fingers through his soft hair and talking about the latest work gossip. 

You hum when you feel his fingers crawl up your thigh, slowly at first and with no destination, just soft, aimless circles here and there, until the calloused pad of his thumb skirts over the front of your underwear, making you jerk with a small squeak.

“Kento,” you giggle, fingers tightening in his hair. 

He smiles at the scandalized look spreading across your face and leans forward to press another kiss against your stomach.

"Do you trust me?" he asks, hand pushing up your dress. 

You glance around the park to see if anyone is paying attention to the two of you—an elderly couple feeding the ducks frozen peas by the pond, a mother and father playing with their giggling daughter in the grass, college kids throwing a frisbee, all far enough away to be out of earshot (but that’s not the real problem here)—before you look back at your husband. 

“W-what?” you sputter, wide-eyed realization taking over.

He presses another open-mouthed kiss to your thigh. “Do you trust me?”

A soft whine slips past your teeth, the hand not in his hair curling into the blanket. “But everyone will notice because I’m—I’m—”

(A beached whale. An air balloon. A carnival-sized melon. You get the gist.)

“Gorgeous.” He smooths a hand over your bump, open-fondness radiating across his features, the subtle hint of possessiveness there making you shiver. “You look so fucking gorgeous with my baby growing inside you. Let me take care of you.”

“B-but—”

Everything else melts away to the pulsing heat between your legs and your husband groaning from the wetness he finds there. Your shaky thighs fall open wider when his fingers hook under the edge of your underwear (unflattering things worn for comfort over sexual appeal), pulling them aside to run his fingers through your slick seam. 

Pregnancy brain clouds your judgment, and before you can think twice about your actions, how you definitely shouldn’t let Kento eat you out in the middle of a public park, you nod your head. 

His lips ghost over the tender flesh of your upper thigh. "I need to hear you say it."

It’s a low and shaky yes that has his fingers finally sinking into you to the third knuckle, steadily pumping in and out of you. You buck down onto his hand, trying to bite back the moan threatening to alert everyone in the park of the head under your skirt.

“You’re going to cum for me, just like this,” Kento tells you, voice muffled by a layer of powder blue cotton. “Alright, darling?” 

[not-neverland06]

the newlyweds

Pairing ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Logan Howlett x fem!reader (Flux)

a/n: I wrote this at 3 AM and I'm also pretty sure I'm sick, so bare with me. Based on this: ask

You know Logan can't stand you, but it doesn't stop the way you feel about him. Your mind recognizes the hate in his eyes whenever you're in the same room, but your heart can't. Finally, you come to terms with the truth: it's never gonna happen. However, your newfound resolve is flipped on its head when you're forced to go undercover with him as newlyweds. Your new wedding ring is a noose and you don't know how you'll survive it or him.

You stumble forward as someone knocks into you from behind. Their shoulder jams painfully into your ribcage and you trip into the wall in front of you. “Shit,” you hiss, rubbing your back and turning around to glare at whoever it was. You figure it's a kid skipping class, imagine your surprise when it’s a fully grown man practically growling at you. 

“Where the hell am I?” He darts forward, grabbing you by the arms and jerking you towards him. “Who are you people?” You’re stunned into silence, eyes wide with shock as he pushes your spine into the wall behind you. 

You recognize him now. This is the man who was with Rogue in the truck you, Ororo, and Summers rescued. The only reason you don’t toss him across the room and rip his spine out through his throat is because you know how disoriented he is. Though, with the way his claws threaten to pierce your skin, you are tempted to. 

“Ah,” a familiar and welcomed voice sounds out from beside you both. “I see you’ve met Flux.” Charles rarely ever uses your actual name, mainly introducing you through your X-Men persona. It’s a preference of yours. 

The man’s eyes dart between you and Charles, and your own turn into slits the longer he keeps his tight grip on you. “Wanna let me go now?” You demand voice practically a growl. Your patience has never been wonderful, but he’s really working on your last nerve. 

He blinks, seemingly coming back to himself. With an almost regretful look, he lets you go. You sigh in irritation, straightening your shirt out and shoving past the corner he’s pushed you into. “Who the hell is this?” You snap, moving to stand behind Charles. 

He gives you an apologetic look, “I’m not sure. He hasn’t introduced himself yet.” He gives the man an expectant look. Instead of answering he glances around, and scoffs. 

“What is this, summer camp? You people don’t need to know me, I don’t need to know you. Just show me how to get the fuck out, alright?” Finding Charles’ school had been heaven on earth. He’d provided you with a home and a haven you never thought you would have the privilege of. You’d never shown anger in the face of his guidance or generosity. But many have. 

You can tell, as much as the man in front of you might believe otherwise, he’s going to be enjoying the comfort of Charles’ protection soon. You move to the side, leaving them to their conversation. Instead, you focus on keeping the kids away from the newest form of entertainment. You usher them towards their classes, despite their reluctance. 

The other members of the team soon join you all, introducing themselves. “Storm, Cyclops,” he scoffs a little at Scott’s name and you feel a reluctant smile tugging at your lips. He turns towards you, brows furrowed inquisitively, “Flux?”

“Matter manipulation,” you explain bluntly. He shrugs his shoulders giving you a blank look. Sighing you hold out your hand and gesture to Charles’ desk. With a flick of your wrist, it melts into an unnatural form of liquid wood. Logan’s eyes widen and you can’t help but finally let the full smile form on your lips. “Flux was just what fourteen-year-old me thought fit best.”

He nods, turning back towards Charles with a smarmy grin. “And what do they call you, wheels?” Your eyes widen with shock and an unbidden laugh surges forth. Charles sends you a playful glare and you have to turn around to keep from laughing more. 

You’d thought you wouldn’t like this one. It’s always bad when there’s a member on the team you don’t get along with. It’s not common, but it has happened. They simply keep you separated if they can. The school is wonderful, but it’s not perfect. Not everyone will like each other. You think you and Logan will get along just fine, though.

It started slow, barely noticeable at first. You didn’t know him well enough to understand that the way he treats you is completely different from how he treats everyone else. Where your greetings are brushed off with cold shoulders or the occasional glare, others at the very least get a brief mumble of hello. When you speak, you can practically feel the irritation wafting off of him in waves. You taste his hatred in every interaction. 

There’s no exact moment you can pinpoint where you went wrong. Sure, your introduction to one another was rocky at best. But he’d nearly thrown Jean across the room when they first met and they got along just fine. 

You’ve thought about it, for far too long, about what makes you different than the others. Is it your smile? The pitch of your voice? Of course, you understand that sometimes there are just people that you meet and something inside you hates them. There’s never a true explanation behind the feeling, just instinct. 

But you can’t place what about you would make someone so guarded, so mean. It feels like such a childish word, like too simple of a way to explain Logan. The very least you know about him is that he can never be summed up with the word simple. There are secrets buried deep within him, some he knows, others he doesn’t. You can’t just slap a label on him and walk away. 

More often than not, though, you feel like you’re talking to one of your childhood bullies and not a team member. Because, despite your own feelings towards him, at the end of the day you are team members. There’s no getting around it. From that connection comes, what should be, a base level of respect. 

You’re both in charge of protecting one another and looking out for each other on the field. That means when you put on the suit, you’re putting aside petty grievances. But he seems incapable of that as well. 

You’ve spent mornings practicing your greetings, trying to tone down your cheeriness or inflect your voice with a more welcoming timbre. You’ve changed how you dress, how you do your hair, even your makeup. And at the end of it all, you still got the same miserable look and distinct feeling of worthlessness. All of the change has been temporary, you are a creature of habit. Inevitably, you slide back into the same habits and styles that make you, you. 

You feel stupid, trying to change yourself to better fit someone else's tastes. Especially when it’s someone who so clearly despises you. It’s not how you carry yourself, how you look, it’s the mere fact you exist that bothers him. At least, that’s the conclusion you’ve come to in all your months of experimenting. 

It truly shouldn’t bother you so much. There’s always going to be people who don’t like you. There’s nothing you can do about it. And you’ve never had that desire to change other's opinions on you. But something about Logan has dug its claws under your skin and has refused to let go. You can’t get him out of your head, even when you feel like you hate him, he’s all you think about. You’ve considered asking Jean to use her abilities to somehow dig him out of your brain and keep him out. But you don’t think that would work either. 

You step into the kitchen and nearly freeze in the doorway. Logan sits at the island, back to you as he reads the newspaper. You find yourself lightening your steps, quieting your breath. You make yourself as inconspicuous and convenient as possible. Every time you catch yourself doing something like this, you hate yourself just a little bit more. 

You shouldn’t have to alter parts of yourself to better fit someone else’s needs. You slip along the tiles, your socked feet slamming into the corner of the counter as you pass it. “Shit!” You shout, doubling over as you clutch your throbbing toes. 

So much for being inconspicuous. 

Logan’s head shoots up in shock as he glares over his paper at you. You let out a strained whimper, reluctantly releasing your foot and hobbling towards the coffee pot. You’ve taken more bullets than you count, and somehow that still hurt worse. 

You can’t just ignore him, you feel his stare burning into your back, and it feels too dickish-too much like him, to not say anything. “Morning,” you mutter over your shoulder, barely looking at him. You pour your coffee, trying to ignore how daunting the silence seems. You might as well be alone in the room for all the attention he’ll grant you. 

You feel like a beggar, on hands and knees just for a simple hello. Ever since his first night here, he’s been so aloof with you. It’s only devolved since then. You sigh, slamming the mug onto the counter. Something in you has snapped this morning and it’s not just the bones in your foot. You’re sick of this. 

You shouldn’t have to walk on eggshells around him. He’s not a toddler, he doesn’t deserve to be coddled and catered to. He’s a grown man, an X-Men for fuck’s sake. What he needs, is to learn a little emotional regulation. 

You turn, mouth open and sucking in a deep breath as you prepare your speech. The island is empty as you face it, his stool in the same place it had been while he was on it. The paper lies abandoned, even his nearly full mug is still on the granite. 

You scoff, snapping your jaw shut and rolling your eyes. “Jesus,” you mutter to yourself. Wonderful, even the same room is too much for him now. Something bitter has been forming in your mind. A rage building from weeks of unprompted cruel behavior. 

Yet, somehow, the thing that pushes you over the edge from interest to resentment is the fact that he didn’t say good morning back. 

You teach history at the school, but the majority of your role at the mansion is to train children with powers similar to yours. You’ve never met a mutant who had such a broad scope with their abilities as you do. Some can turn water to ice, control the blood running through someone’s veins, or make the air around them a solid block. But you’ve yet to meet one who manipulates anything with matter the way you do. 

Still, for training, you deal with the unreliable, untameable, and generally more dangerous abilities. And sometimes for training, you work with other teachers and let your kids practice on each other. It’s a rotating schedule, and unfortunately, the week you’ve decided you hate him, you’re partnered with Logan for training. 

You’ve got the entirety of Charles’ backyard, which is essentially the size of a football field. It’s a lot of room for accidents and accidental misfires. You stand in front of the pond, admittedly a risky choice with these kids, and direct them all to their partners. 

“Remember, the goal of this isn’t to maim each other,” you give a particularly pointed glare towards Billy. He’s caused a lot of problems lately with his fires. “It’s just to learn how to wield your abilities to your advantage, to protect yourself and your team.”

You look to Logan, seeing if he wants to add anything or contribute to the class in some way. He just keeps his arms crossed, glowering at all the children like he’s imagining skewering them on his claws. Rolling your eyes, you turn back to the kids. “Let's start with the hand-to-hand maneuvers we went over yesterday before we practice with our abilities.”

“Why don’t you show us?” Your head whips towards Billy and you can’t help the sneer on your lips. He’s sat on the ground, legs crossed leisurely over each other. He doesn’t have a care in the world as he taunts you. 

“What?” You grit out, glaring at him.

“Show us what a balanced fight should look like between mutants. You and Logan,” he nods to the aforementioned man. Logan just quirks a brow, glancing at you before turning back to Billy. 

“I don’t think-”

“Fine.” You gape at Logan as he tugs his jacket off. He shrugs as he looks at you, moving towards the middle of the field. Of course, he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to try and pummel you. You’re sure that he’s just been waiting for an excuse to fight you. 

“If that’s what you want,” you mutter bitterly. You pull off your sweatshirt and start walking towards him. 

“Your cuffs,” Billy calls out from behind you. The other students all watch the interaction with rapt attention. They’re practically salivating at the chance to see you two fight each other. Meanwhile, Billy just seems like he wants to see someone bleed. 

The metal cuffs around your wrists are the only thing that stops you from leveling the entire school. Your abilities are so tightly entwined with your emotions that one unlucky bout of anger can lead you to vaporizing everyone around you. They dull your abilities just enough to still be useful but not deadly. You haven’t taken them off in years. And perhaps it’s wrong to lean so heavily on them for protection, but you have. That’s your cross to bear. You don’t even want to picture what will happen if you open that dam. 

“What?” Billy shrugs, sending you a sharp smirk. “How are we supposed to trust you, if you can’t even use your own damn abilities?” He snorts and narrows his eyes at you, “How the hell did you even become an X-Men, Flux?” His name rolls off your tongue with a sharpened venom. 

He oozes hatred and a burning resentment that catches you off guard. It’s too much to process the insults he’s hurling at you and the sudden one-eighty in his personality. You don’t even hear Logan coming until his fist is wrapped in Billy’s collar and he’s yanking him off his feet. 

He dangles him, just a couple of inches, off the ground, teeth practically bared at the kid. “Wanna keep talking, mouth?” 

“Log-” You’re cut off as a fireball shoots out of Billy’s palm and explodes against Logan’s gut. You gasp, throwing up a wall in front of the other kids so it can’t hurt them. “All right,” you call out sternly. “Everyone inside,” you demand, pointing the other kids back towards the manor. 

You linger with Logan, who still has Billy dangling from his fist, only he looks even more pissed off now. Anyone else, and they’d be dust at Billy’s feet. But Logan isn’t anyone else and the only collateral seems to be his shirt. 

Not that you mind the view. 

Billy hasn’t been here long enough to know what Logan’s abilities are, though. You don’t think he actually knew he could heal. The thought alone is worrying enough that you don’t force Logan to let him go. “We need to get him to Charles,” when Logan doesn’t move you put more force behind your voice, “now.”

Logan lets out a low huff before placing Billy back on his own two feet. He doesn’t let him go far, though, keeping his hand around the back of his neck and dragging him forward. You follow behind them, making sure he doesn’t rip him to pieces before Charles can speak with him. 

You sit outside Charles’ office, fingers tapping restlessly against your thigh as you stare at the mahogany walls in front of you. The red velvet of the seat is too soft and you find yourself slipping to the edge every few seconds. It’s too soft, too luxurious, your back aches the longer you wait. 

Charles had instructed both you and Logan to wait for him to finish up with Billy. It’s been nearly an hour, though, and you’re growing restless. You can tell Logan feels the same way. He’s pacing the hall like a caged lion about to rip the arm off its keeper. 

“How are you?” You blurt out, desperate for something to fill the silence. He stops abruptly, whipping around to face you. You flinch back slightly at the intense glare he’s sporting. “Your stomach, I mean,” you gesture towards the scorch marks on his shirt, the soot on his abs. 

It’s been a practice in self-control to not just be staring at his wonderfully sculpted muscles flexing this whole time. You’re pleasantly surprised with how well you’ve been doing so far. Though, now with him facing you, you’re finding it incredibly hard to meet his eye. He’s such an imposing figure, especially when he’s standing over you like this. 

“Fine,” he barks out, turning back around and effectively ending the conversation. Your eyes narrow and you scoff, god, why do you try?

The door swings open and you expect Billy to come running out crying with his tail tucked between his legs. Instead, you hear the familiar whirl of Charles wheels as he rolls into the hall. He faces you and Logan, a strained smile on his face. 

“Where’s Billy?” You slowly get to your feet, peering into his office. Your confusion only grows when you find it empty. 

“He’s away from the other children for now. He’ll need private lessons before we allow him near them again. And if that doesn’t work, we have no choice but to expel him.” You can tell it hurts Charles to say that. 

He does genuinely want the best for these kids. He wants mutants to have a home, a place where they can be themselves without fear of retaliation. Sometimes, though, it doesn’t work out. There’s nothing wrong with that, you all try your best to help the kids. But some of them have been so twisted by the world around them that there’s no undoing the damage. When they pose a risk the way Billy does, the other kids come first. 

Logan scoffs with distaste, stalking closer to Charles. “He tried to kill me, fucking tried to get Flux to take her cuffs off.” He gestures towards you, for once, though, you don’t feel like you’re being attacked. Even he can understand the dangers of that demand is idiotic. It’s clear Billy only wanted to watch everyone around him get hurt, he didn’t care about the consequences. 

Charles holds up a pacifying hand, nodding his head and dismissing Logan’s concerns. “I’m quite aware of what happened, Logan. But Billy is my responsibility and he’s not the reason I needed to talk to you both.”

He rolls back into his office, expecting you both to follow him. You fall in line behind him, taking a seat at his desk. Logan takes another minute to join you both, a reluctant scowl on his face as he sits beside you. Charles waves his hand, the door closing and providing you all with a little bit more privacy. 

He reaches into a drawer on his desk, pulling out a thin manilla folder. He pushes it towards both you and Logan. You share a confused look with Logan before flipping the file open. There are a few pictures of a stereotypical suburban neighborhood. Bright green laws, uniform driveways, each house looks the same as the last. 

There are a few more pictures, all of them taken from an awkward distance that makes it hard to determine what you’re looking at. You pass the pictures to Logan and shake your head at Charles. “I don’t understand, what is all this?”

“Your next mission,” he informs you both with a strained smile. 

Logan’s head shoots up, eyes narrowing in on Charles. “Excuse me?” He demands, his voice a growl more than anything. 

“There have been some disturbing rumors about this neighborhood. Mentions of a possible mutant trafficking ring being conducted behind closed doors. Normally, I would dismiss such claims. Oftentimes these are just ways to bait and snatch mutants. However, my own attempts at telepathic investigation have been thwarted. Even with Cerebro, I can’t seem to breach the neighborhood.”

“Something’s blocking you?” You ask, snatching the pictures back from Logan to get a better look. He tosses the folder back on the desk, muttering something you can’t hear. 

“Or someone. I’m worried there might be some truth to these rumors. And since I can’t find a safe way in, I need your help. You only need to do some reconnaissance. The only problem is how gated the community is. They’re not going to let anyone in unless they live there.”

Charles gives you both a cheekily expectant look. The truth is so hard to swallow that you almost can’t process it. “No,” you mutter, shaking your head and smiling, waiting for the punchline. When one doesn’t come you get up from your seat and give him a disbelieving look. “You want us undercover?”

Charles pulls out a key and smiles widely, “Congratulations on your new home, newlyweds.”

Logan shoots up from his seat, it wobbles precariously, nearly toppling to the ground.  “You want me to move into a house with her?” He spits out the sentence like it pains him to even have it in his mouth. A disbelieving smile spread across your cheeks, sardonic laughter slipping through parted lips. “Why can’t I do it with Jean? Or better yet you just get some other asshole to play her husband?”

Your heart stutters to a stop and you quickly rip your eyes off the pair. The stung worse than you think it should. Your heart aches, each beat painful. You feel like someone’s punched through your chest and ripped at all the tender bits. 

“I have chosen you,” Charles loses all humor from his voice. He is stern, like a father scolding his child, as he speaks to Logan. “And that’s the end of it. Besides, I don’t suppose that Jean’s fiance would appreciate her playing house with another man.” He places heavy emphasis on fiance, enough to get Logan to purse his lips and look away from him.

You speak up, your voice a surprise to them both. You claw through the lump in your throat, ignoring the hot burn behind your eyes. “I’m not doing this. Especially not with him,” you force the words out, wiping roughly at your cheeks. “Shit,” you hiss, looking down and trying to hide the tears that have slowly trickled down. 

You don’t allow either of them to argue, running out of the door and ignoring the calls of your name behind you. You can’t do this. Can’t pretend to be in love with Logan, not when he hates you. Not when it’s so close to the truth. 

Evidently, Charles didn't feel like giving either of you a choice.

You drum your fingers along the door handle. The cab of the truck rattles as the trailer drags along behind you. The trees have begun to thin out on the road, and more shopping centers pop up than you’ve seen this whole trip. It’s the how you know you’re getting closer, that and the map on Logan’s thigh. You steal glances at it because he refused to let you help him navigate. 

Besides the occasional ask for a bathroom break and refuted offer of switching drivers, the four-hour road trip has been quiet. You tried to turn the radio on earlier but he’d shut it off nearly immediately. He claimed that the pop shit they play makes his ears ring. 

You were almost tempted to turn it up to full volume if only to torture him a little bit. 

Logan’s rough voice jars you out of your head, “I’m going to need to know your real name.”

You frown, brows furrowed in confusion. Had you still not given him your actual name? He’s always referred to you as Flux, but you just assumed that’s because he didn’t want you to be an actual person in his eyes. It’s easier to hate someone if you can distance yourself from the idea of them having actual feelings. Still, you can’t believe he never asked someone for it. 

It just shows you how little he cares for you. Reluctantly, you give it to him. He hums, something pensive pinching at his face. “What?” You snap, waiting for him to insult you. 

He just shrugs, “It’s pretty,” he mutters, so quiet you almost don’t hear him. You don’t even know how to respond to that, so caught off guard by a genuine compliment that you just choose to ignore it. You doubt he meant it, anyway. He might think the name is pretty, but he doesn’t hold the same opinion of the person connected to it. 

You sink back into the silence, finding it more comforting than jarring now. You’d prefer the familiar feeling of him ignoring you than the abrupt turn in character. He glances over at you, something like regret on his face as he sighs. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything else. Instead, in what feels like an extension of an olive branch, he turns the radio back on. He keeps the volume low, so it doesn’t bother him so much. But at least there’s something to listen to besides your breathing. 

You turn back towards the window, a white sign surrounded by daises coming up as Logan slows the truck down. He flicks on his turn signal, pulling up to Storybrook Walk. He stops in front of a large wrought iron gate and jumps out of the truck. He runs up to a black metal box, flipping the lid open and typing in the code Charles gave you both. As he gets back in the truck, the gate swings open widely. 

You pull your rings out of your pocket and slip yours on. “Here,” you urge, holding Logan’s ring out to him. He huffs, glaring down at it before snatching it out of your hand. He balances his hands atop the wheel, slipping the ring on his left hand. 

The neighborhood is picture-perfect suburbia. The lawns are bright green and manicured to perfection. You can hear children laughing as they play in their backyards and draw out a hopscotch grid on the sidewalk. Women and men who look like they’re straight from the fifties stop on the sidewalk and wave as you drive through the gated community. 

You mouth the numbers on the mailboxes to yourself, sitting up straighter when you’re one house away from your new home for the next few weeks. “Hey,” you frown, noticing a large congregation of people in the driveway of 1220. “This is our house isn’t it?”

Logan frowns, stopping the truck just before pulling in so he doesn’t hit anyway. “Supposed to be.” He glares at the people suspiciously, “Stay here, alright?”

You nod, watching him as he jumps out and rounds the front of the truck. You roll your window down, fingers dancing along the metal of your cuffs. There’s no way you’ve been found out before you’ve even gotten a chance to investigate. 

“Hey!” Logan’s voice is scary on a good day, but when he feels threatened, it’s enough to frighten a grown man. You can see the people flinch slightly away from him. That’s when you spot the wrapped cookies in a blonde woman’s hand and see children hiding with balloons on the porch. 

“Oh, fuck,” you mutter. You throw the door open, racing after Logan before he does something stupid. “Howdy neighbors!” You shout, speaking over him before he gets a chance to say anything else. You rush up to Logan’s side, nearly out of breath in your haste to get to him. “Is this our welcoming committee?”

You glare up at him and his eyes narrow as he sees the same thing you did. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath. 

“Smile and wave,” you whisper through gritted teeth. His lips peel up into something terrifying and it takes everything in you not to flinch back. “What the fuck is that?” You mutter.

“A smile,” he hisses, glaring down at you in irritation. 

A blonde woman steps forward before you can continue your hushed argument. “Welcome!” She calls out in a heavy southern accent, throwing her arms open with a bright smile. She walks as fast as she can in her tight skirt and kitten heels, coming over to embrace you, the casserole in her hand balancing precariously behind you. 

She tugs Logan down into a hug, pressing a kiss to his cheek and staining the skin red. “Surprise!” The kids on the porch jump out with balloons and flowers and she winces. 

“A bit late on the delivery,” she waves it off with a faux chuckle. “But we don’t mind ‘cause they’re so darn cute.” She is very… loud. There’s something about her that is meant to be charming but puts you on edge. She’s got all the familiar characteristics of a woman you’d love to be around, but she’s executing it like someone playing a character. “Shiela,” she holds out her hand, perfectly manicured nails shining bright red. 

You take her hand introducing yourself, “And this is my husband, Logan. Forgive him for his tone, we had an accident on the highway earlier. We’re still a little on edge.”

“Oh no,” she gasps, pressing her nails to her chest and even that seems plastic. “What happened?”

Years of bullshitting your way through school presentations are finally coming in handy.  You think quickly on your feet, something these people would despise. You need something that endears you to them, “Tire blew out and someone tried to raid the trailer while we were fixing it.”

She lets out a disapproving hum and the throng of people behind her echoes it with disturbing harmony.  You find yourself leaning closer towards Logan, feeling like you need to defend yourself against them. You know they’re only an overzealous HOA committee, but there is something uncanny about them. 

Sensing your discomfort, Logan wraps his arm around your shoulder, tugging you into his side. You have to school your features into one of neutrality. You’re supposed to be newlyweds, this is normal behavior for you. His touch feels like ice water being tossed over you, though. His willing embrace makes your head swim with distaste and skepticism. 

“Well,” a man steps forward. He’s conventionally handsome, with brown hair cropped short, slight stubble on his cheeks, slacks, and a button-up that he fills out nicely. His smile, however, stretches too wide and shows too many teeth. A shiver crawls up your spine as he places his hand on Shiela’s shoulder. “You won’t have to worry about people like that here, that’s for sure. John,” he offers his hand to Logan, bypassing you completely. “Head of the HOA here at Storybrook.”

“Nice to meet you, John” Logan falls just short of sincere. He towers slightly over John and you can see that he’s squeezing his hand just a bit too tight by the wince of Jouhn’s face. You dig your elbow into his side and he drops his hand immediately. 

Your gaze drifts over their shoulders and your stomach drops. The people behind them all hold dishes full of food and gift baskets. Their smiles are pinned to their faces, never once flinching out of place. There’s no joy in their eyes, though. They’re glazed over like they’re a million miles away. You would think they were mannequins before you even considered them human. 

“Long drive?” Shiela asks, your eyes dart back to hers only to find her intense stare already wholly focused on you. 

“Yeah,” you answer, clearing your throat of the panic rising in it. “We’re gonna have a fun time unloading this,” you laugh humorlessly, motioning towards the trailer.

She waves her hands in dismissal. “Don’t you worry about that, hun. That’s what neighbors are for after all.” She looks behind her, snapping her fingers a few times. The other’s start going towards the trailer and you feel Logan tense under your touch. 

A kid reaches it first, they manage to unlock it before you shout, “No!” It’s too loud, echoing through the street and making you clench your eyes shut in embarrassment. You turn back towards Shiela and John, both of them wearing shocked expressions. You chuckle awkwardly, “There’s just a lot of family heirlooms. I don’t want to risk them being damaged.” There are no heirlooms, just empty boxes and surveillance equipment that you'll have no chance of explaining away.

Shiela purses her lips into a tight smile, eyes turned to slits as she nods. “Of course,” you know she doesn’t believe you for a second. “Well then, we’ll just take all this inside.” She snaps and the others take their casseroles and gifts and begin flooding towards your front door. Shiela and John walk behind them, herding them all into a straight line. 

You let go of Logan immediately, glaring at the door of your home. Shiela holds a key in her hand, unlocking it and letting everyone inside. You scoff and shake your head in disbelief. “What the actual fuck?” You hiss. 

Logan just shakes his head. “Fucking bizarre, what the hell is wrong with these people?” He starts back towards the truck and you follow him. “I almost prefer the welcoming committee at the manor.”

You roll your eyes, “I was your welcoming committee,” you grouse. 

He shrugs, “I know.” You swat lightly at his shoulder and relatch the trailer’s lock. You linger by the mailbox as Logan pulls the truck into the driveway. He’s getting out just as the others finally leave your house. 

Shiela walks back towards you and you gesture towards the keyring in her hand. “Got a key to my house?” You play it off as a joke but it’s incredibly disturbing to know she could walk in at any minute. 

“Of course,” she smiles and shrugs it off like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “For the safety of everyone here.” Her smile drops and she takes an imposing step towards you, “Inspections are every Wednesday at noon.” Your jaw drops in astonishment and you choke on your words. She cackles loudly, face breaking out into a smile once more. “I’m just kidding, honey! God, your face, you’re too gullible, sweetheart.”

You force out a chuckle, smiling as much as you can force. “Of course, silly me,” you barely make it sound believable. This is going to be much harder than you thought. 

“Well,” John comes up behind her, guiding her away from you. “We’ll get out of your hair now. Welcome, neighbors!” The others around them all call out a Welcome as they drift across your lawn and head back to their own homes. 

Logan walks up to your side, the both of you keeping stilted smiles on your faces, waiting for them to just go away. But they pause at their doors, in almost perfect synchronization they turn and wave at you both. You back further into Logan’s chest and his grip on you tightens. 

“What. The. Fuck.” They step through their homes at the same moment and you feel sick to your stomach. There is something seriously wrong here, you’re not sure you want to find out the truth of it. 

You leave Logan to unload the trailer while you unpack the boxes. You’re forced to do it all by hand while the front door is open. You can’t risk someone stopping by for a visit and seeing you float the couch through the middle of the living room. You’re stumped on how to set up the surveillance equipment. Shiela doesn’t seem like the type to understand boundaries when it comes to popping by for a visit. 

You’re just going to have to keep most of it upstairs and set up some cameras on the porch. You don’t doubt that she’ll abuse that key of hers as she sees fit. You can’t imagine how anyone could stand living in this neighborhood. Having no privacy seems like a nightmare. Especially when the commander of the HOA is John and Shiela. They seem like the type to fine you over a rosebush. 

Logan grunts, dragging in the couch. He pushes it through the doorway and kicks the door closed behind him. The second it’s closed he drops the act and picks the couch up with one hand. “Where do you want it?” 

You point towards the back wall of the living room and he drops it with a small groan. “We’re going to need to put cameras out on the porch,” you inform him, still digging through the box. He walks behind you, heading for the fridge and digging around in it. 

“Fuck,” he mutters. You look up, watching as he tosses aside casserole after casserole. “They didn’t bring any beer?”

You laugh a little and get up, heading towards the cooler you’d packed. “They don’t seem the type.” You lean over, digging around through the melted ice until your fingers brush against cool glass. You straighten up, sending him a coquettish smile. “Want a beer after all that hard work, darling?” You taunt, playing the perfect housewife. 

He scoffs and holds his hand out, snatching it from the air as you toss it at him. He pulls the cap off with his teeth, spitting it out into the sink. “And a sandwich while you’re at it,” he demands roughly. 

If you weren’t a connoisseur of dry humor, you wouldn’t have recognized the joke for what it was. Still, you’re almost too shocked he even bothered to play along with you to laugh. Almost, you can’t help the slight chuckle that slips out.  

He throws himself on the couch, taking a deep swig from the bottle, and the moment feels remarkably domestic. You suppose that it should. That is the whole reason you’re here after all. But you hadn’t expected even a singular pleasant moment with Logan. 

This, playful banter and a shared joke, that’s all you could ever want from him. You would settle for this if it was all he was willing to give you. But he can’t even grant you that. This is one outlier in a long list of rude remarks and dismissive behavior. You can’t let yourself be so easily swayed. 

“I might try and get some cameras on the other houses,” Logan remarks from the couch. He kicks his feet on the coffee table and you click your tongue at him, motioning towards his shoes. With an aggrieved sigh, he undoes the laces of his boots and kicks them off. You glare at the dirt that flings across the carpet but a quick wave of your hand makes it disappear. 

“Don’t bother with the cameras. They’ve all got security.” You turn away from the box you’re unpacking with a pensive frown. “They’re all covered by the same company, too. All of them. Isn’t that weird?”

He scoffs and shrugs. “Anywhere else, yeah. But I’m pretty sure they piss at the same time here.” Your nose wrinkles at his crude words and you roll your eyes. 

“Take this seriously.”

He huffs out a laugh, “I am. Didn’t you see them earlier? They only breathe because Shiela lets them.” You take a seat at the kitchen table, uncomfortable attempting to take a spot on the couch. He sighs when he sees the expression on your face, finally dropping the dismissive attitude. “I’ll just be smart about how I set up our cameras, alright?”

You just nod, reaching for the box of your essentials on the table. It’s strange to be sitting beside him, talking to him. You’ve never gotten more than two words out of him. This is so far out of your normal comfort zone that you feel like you’re crawling out of your skin trying to escape. 

“I’m going to go to bed,” you announce awkwardly, shooting up from your seat at the table. 

The beer pauses halfway to his lips and he gives you an odd look. “Okay?” He responds slowly, not sure why you’re telling him this. You open your mouth, and almost tell him to have a good night, but change your mind at the last second. 

You move towards the bedroom near the front door, “Flux,” you turn slightly and he shakes his head. “Take the one upstairs.”

Your brows furrow, “Why?” You demand, an attitude edging its way into your voice. 

“So if Shiela busts down our door I can protect us,” you know he’s teasing, but the sentiment is nice. “And so I don’t have to set up the surveillance shit upstairs,” your face drops and you roll your eyes. There it is. 

“Dick,” you mutter, storming towards the stairs, your boxes hovering along behind you. His laughter follows you up the stairs, even when you slam the door shut. Although, when you take in the room, you can’t find it in yourself to complain for a second about it. 

While Logan is screwed with the teeny guest room downstairs, you get the largest bedroom you’ve ever been in all to yourself. The closet could practically be another bedroom. The bath is more like a jacuzzi than it is a tub.

A four-poster bed sits against the wall, the fluffiest comforter ever becoming you forth like a siren. There’s even a table in the middle of the room, with a chair, perfect for setting up as your desk. 

You scoff in astonishment, “Oh, I could get used to this.” You place your boxes on the table and start pulling out your clothes. You toss yourself on the bed, bouncing against the sheets, and throw pillows go flying everywhere. You flick your wrist, all your essentials flying out of the boxes and sorting themselves out. 

After a luxurious soak in the tub, you’re spread out along the bed, the limited information from Charles's file spread out before you. There are only a few blurry pictures of the neighborhood and a typed-up page of everything he’s heard about Sotrybrook. There’s nothing even remotely useful here. 

You sigh, tossing the file to the floor and looking out the large window of your room. You’ve got a camera placed on the sill, programmed to take a picture anytime there’s movement. You doubt you’re going to get much from that. The secrets of this place seem to be buried deep. You’re gonna have to get real friendly with your neighbors if you want to get out of here fast. 

Logan is on the computer, trying to sync all of the cameras up. You clean up the dishes from breakfast and tidy up the kitchen. You’re trying to decide how you should start investigating when there’s a dainty knock on the door. 

Your brows furrow and you peer around the cupboards to look at the door. Logan’s head lifts and he shares an odd look with you. He gets up from the couch and glances through the peephole. 

You drop the towel on the counter and frown as his shoulders slump forward. Something pinched appears on his face and he sighs. “What?” You hiss at him.

He turns and glares at you, “You’ll see.” You shake your head in confusion as he throws the door open. 

His attitude makes a lot more sense when you hear a very happy, “Howdy!” Shiela stands in your doorframe, three women hovering behind her. At least they look awake, unlike the people from last night. A redhead with the most gorgeous waves you’ve ever seen holds beach towels in her arms. A brunette with flawless brown skin carries a jug of lemonade. And a woman with black hair and a perfect figure is carrying a plate of cookies. 

All of these women are wearing bathing suits that look like they’ve been snatched out of a fashion magazine from the sixties. Each of them is gorgeous, alarmingly so. They’re beautiful to the point of being flawless. As you walk out of the kitchen and take a step closer, Shiela welcomes herself into your home. 

You don’t even think you see pores on their faces. Each of them offers you the same practiced smile that you force yourself to return. “How are you settling in?” Shiela demands, not asks. 

“Um,” you look to Logan for help but he’s just as perplexed as you are. “Just fine, Shiela, thanks. What are you all doing?”

The redhead rolls her eyes playfully, “Tanning, sweetheart.” She glances at Logan expectantly and he grabs his duffel from by the couch. 

“I think that’s my cue,” he falls easily into the role of a playful husband. But you don’t need him to play along right now. You need him to stay where the fuck he is so you’re not alone with the barbies. 

“Ha ha, don’t go,” you whisper, trying to grab at his sleeve. “Logan,” you hiss, making sure the others can’t hear you as they look around your home. “Don’t do this.”

He dips his head down, and for one stupid moment, you think he might kiss you. “Good luck,” he whispers in your ear, backing off with a smug smirk and letting himself out of the house. 

Oh, you’re going to fucking kill him. 

“Finally,” the brunette breathes out a relieved breath, “I thought he’d never leave.”

Shiela chuckles, “You’re lucky honey. It took us a long while to have ours so well trained.” She motions to the other girls, “This is Madge,” the redhead smiles and gives a cute wave. She introduces the rest quickly and you file the information away for later when you’re writing your report. 

Madge- husband is the vendor consultant for the HOA. 

Sierra - brunette - husband is secretary of the HOA. 

Kimiko - black hair - no husband. 

Your brows furrow in confusion as Kimiko nods in greeting. You return it, suspicions running thick in your blood. It’s odd, that their husbands are in charge of the HOA, you figured they would be. Beyond that, the emphasis they put on it is astonishing. You really didn’t think the HOA was so important but it’s practically the government here. And the women only seem to hold importance if their husbands do. Shiela is essentially their leader, she’s the one you need to impress.

This whole thing seems incredibly backward and like a blast from the past. The way they style their hair, do their makeup, dress- it's all fashioned after the fifties and sixties. You feel incredibly out of place in your worn-down pajamas and frizzy braids. 

“We’re not really tanning,” Madge tells you. “This is just a way for us ladies to get to know the new kid in the neighborhood and tell you everything you need to know,” she leans in, smiling like she’s sharing a conspiratorial secret with you. 

“Don’t let Madge scare you,” Sierra shoots her a glare. “It’s not that big of a deal, it’s just a way for us to escape our husbands for an hour.”

“Well,” you chuckle awkwardly, crossing your arms over your chest as you grow uncomfortable under their tense stares. It feels like their eyes are peeling back your skin, exposing everything underneath as they judge every nook and cranny of your soul. “I haven’t reached that stage yet.”

Shiela’s smile loses some of its humor and she scoffs. “You will,” she assures you, acrid bitterness coating her words. “Give it a few years,” she gives you a bitchy and all-knowing smirk. Your hackles raise, the urge to defend your sham of a marriage rising quickly in you. You bite your tongue, swallowing down your smart retort before you say something you regret. 

You’re not even married to Logan, but you don’t like her butting her nose so far into your business. “Sadly, I don’t have a bathing suit.”

“Oh,” Kimiko gives you a blank smile, “We brought you one.” Madge moves the towels aside to reveal a two-piece that matches their own. In your size. 

Your cheeks ache with a forced smile as you take the bathing suit from them. “We’ll just set up out back,” Shiela lets you know. She turns to the others with a beaming smile, “Come on ladies.” They follow after her like ducklings, and when you look down you see each of their steps are in sync. 

You wait until the back door closes to rush to the front. You throw the door open and Logan jumps from where he’s drilling the camera into the side of the house. “I’m gonna fucking kill you,” you warn.

He chuckles and smirks, “Don’t keep ‘em waiting too long, sweetheart,” he mocks and you slam the door closed with a loud scoff. He was enjoying your suffering far too much, but you shouldn’t be surprised. You’re sure he’s just been waiting for a moment like this. 

You change into the bathing suit and take a deep calming breath. You can do this. You can play pretend for a few hours. 

You wished you’d known being an actor was a part of the job description before you joined the X-Men.

You lay on your stomach along the soft beach towel that Madge brought. The sun isn’t too hot on you, but you also bent the tree behind you to provide a bit more shade when the others weren’t looking. So far, you’ve collected nothing but mindless gossip. 

Sam never takes in his trash cans on time. Alicia has been getting a little too cozy with the gardener. Some couple you didn’t pay attention to is expecting a kid. You’re struggling to pay attention to all the mindless drivel. 

Usually, you wouldn’t mind a little gossip, but none of this feels real. Their words are hollow, smiles empty. Everything they say sounds like they’re reading it from a script. The only person you actually believe cares about any of this bullshit is Shiela. The rest of them seem to just play along, not meaning a word they say. 

You’re gaining nothing useful from this. There’s no information you’ve gotten during this conversation that could remotely help you. All you want to do is go out front and strangle Logan for abandoning you. 

The only good thing about all this is the lemonade and cookies. Which, you admit, you may have indulged yourself a little too much. But at this point, you’re just eating to stay awake. You reach for another cookie and Shiela lets out a dainty huff. 

“I wish I could eat like you,” she laughs and you prepare yourself for the most backhanded insult you’ve ever heard. “But I have to be so careful about watching my figure. Wouldn’t want to lose my waist,” she titters and the other women giggle. 

You toss the cookie back on the plate, rolling your eyes. It feels like you’re right back in high school. You love this, this is great. At this point, you’re just trying to stop yourself from tossing them all out. 

The backdoor slides open and Logan peeks his head out. The women wave and Shiela calls out a sultry, “Hey, Lo.”

Your jaw drops and you can’t help but scoff as you tilt your head to give her an astonished stare. This woman has absolutely zero shame. She’s not even hiding the way she’s ogling him. She’s literally biting her lip. 

You clench your eyes shut, taking a deep breath. There it is, the end of your rope. “Sweetheart, you gonna be done soon?” Logan calls out and you can’t help but smile at the immense satisfaction you feel when Shiela’s face falls. You shouldn’t take so much joy in Logan ignoring her, you know that’s just how he is. But she doesn’t. 

“I think so, hon.” You sit up on your knees, clapping your hands and pretending to be upset. “Sorry, girls, I think I’m needed back in the house.” You get to your feet and pick your towel up. As you do, you flick your fingers, and the lemonade tumbles over, spilling all over Shiela’s pristine white bathing suit. 

She jumps up with a shrill scream, shaking her arms off at the ice-cold liquid and desperately trying to wipe off her bathing suit. Madge and Sierra flock to her and you roll your eyes at how dramatic she’s being. 

Out of the side of your eye, you see someone watching you. You turn slightly, startling when you see the intense glare Kimiko’s sporting. It’s the first genuine emotion you’ve seen from her, but even this seems cold. Her dark eyes are bottomless pits of frigid rage. You find that you can’t look away from her, swaying slightly as her eyes beckon you forward. 

You need to go to her, speak with her, be with her. You need-

Your mind falls short of what you need. But you know Kimko will give it to you. Sierra and Madge both straighten up, both blank-faced as you take a step forward. 

Logan hollers your name again and you jump, shaking your head and breaking whatever trance you’d fallen in. When you look back, all three of them are still fussing over Shiela. You glance to Logan, to see if he saw what had happened. 

His brows are furrowed, face pinched in concern as he looks at you. You think you might have just found Charles’ interference. 

“I think we should look into Kimiko,” you scroll through the list of residents you’d managed to hack into. You’ve been on the computer for hours, trying to find any information bout her at all. Even when you ran a background check, nothing came up. If that doesn’t scream mutant, you don’t know what does. 

Logan walks over to the table with a steaming pan in his hand. You tug your computer glasses off and slide the laptop to the side. He pours some pasta onto your plate and hands you a glass of water. “Thank you,” he gives you a tense almost-smile and nods. 

“Figure out where she lives?” He asks, bringing his own plate to the table. You shake your head and rub your temples, trying to fend off the headache you can already feel forming. You should have taken a break from the research. You can’t stand staring at screens for as long as you did. 

“She’s not even a registered resident.”

“Well,” he sighs and shrugs, “at least we know this wasn’t a waste of time.” You nod in acquiesce and take a bite of your food. Your eyes widen in shock and he laughs at the look on your face. “Didn’t think I could cook?”

You shake your head and smile. “I took you as the type to pour beer in your cereal. But this is,” you stumble over your word. You’re afraid of being too nice to him. You’ve reached a sort of impasse, where you’re not openly hostile, but you’re not exactly friendly. You feel like if you do too much, too fast, he’s gonna be closed off again. “It’s really good.”

He purses his lips and nods, dragging his fork along the porcelain plate. The noise grates on you and only further aggravates the growing headache but you don’t snap at him. You swallow down the frustration and just shovel more pasta into your mouth. 

“This, uh,” Logan takes in a deep breath and lets all out in one gravely exhale. You give him an expectant look and he shrugs. “It hasn’t been as bad as I thought.” He tells you flippantly. 

You narrow your eyes at him, “Is that supposed to be a compliment?” You demand with a firm tone, placing your fork down and leaning back in your chair. 

He lets out an annoyed sigh, “It was just an observation.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. He’s fucking ridiculous. “You know, maybe if you ever tried to get to know me, you wouldn’t have had such a horrible opinion about me.” You try and eat more but the food just tastes like ash in your mouth. You grow antsy, not wanting to sit near him anymore. 

You’re surprised that he’s the one who fucked up the peace. You really thought it would be you. But something about what he said is rubbing you the wrong way. Of course, it hasn’t been bad, you’re not a bad person. He just decided he hated you one day and he’s so goddamned stubborn he never considered anything else being the truth. 

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” he defends, watching with a confused expression as you get up and drop your plate loudly in the sink. 

“You know,” you ignore his weak defense, leaning on the sink. You grip the rim of it tightly, sucking in a deep breath to try and keep yourself calm. “You didn’t even know my fucking name,” you mutter under your breath, shaking your head to yourself. Why are you even bothering with him? You’ll never win and you don’t even know if you want him to change his opinion about you. 

He’s been a dick for so long that you’re not sure you’re even interested in being friends, let alone anything beyond that. 

“Well,” he takes an angered tone as you continue to deflect his attempts at restoring the peace. “It’s not like you told me. You just go by your X-Men name, how was I supposed to know better?”

“By fucking asking!” You shout, whirling around on him, nearly ramming into his chest. You hadn’t realized how close he’d gotten while you’d had your back to him. “If you had, ever, at any fucking point tried to get to know me, you wouldn’t be so surprised that I’m nice. I’m a nice person to be around, Logan. And for some reason I tried to change myself, to make you happy. And it never even worked!” You scoff, a hysterical laugh bubbling up in your throat that you quickly swallow down. You shove past him, escaping the corner he’s backed you into. “Your head is so far up your ass that you didn’t even try to know me before you decided you hated me.”

“What?” He scoffs and glares at you. “I don’t fucking hate you. When have I ever said that? And I never wanted you to change.” He keeps focusing on the wrong things. How he feels about you doesn’t matter, it’s how he treated you. 

“Never, you’ve never said that because you’ve never said more than two words to me. This,” you motion between the two of you, “is the longest conversation we’ve ever had.” A sudden exhaustion settles over you, it weighs heavy on your bones and drapes across you like a blanket. 

You don’t have the energy for this. For him. You don’t want to keep defending yourself to someone who couldn’t care less. There’s no winning with him. He will never listen to you, he’ll just offer half-assed excuses that he thinks absolve him of how horribly he’s treated you. 

He calls your name as you slump into the dining room chair. Your real name, not your X-Men name. “I never hated you,” he tells you, voice soft, but the conviction is strong. 

You stand up, unable to make eye contact with him. “Goodnight, Logan.” You walk up the stairs quietly, never once looking at him. You can’t stand to face him. As much as you’ve tried to bury how you feel about him, it’s still there. 

Being with him like this, having his ring on your finger, it’s a stab in the gut over and over and over. Someone’s taken your most ridiculous and romantic fantasies and turned them into a waking nightmare. You wake up to him every day, eat at the same table, share the same house, and you two couldn’t be further apart. 

You have to keep up appearances, Logan is sure that’s the only reason you’ve joined him this morning. He’s working on the truck while you kneel on a foam pad, planting a rose bush by the mailbox. But the way you’re stabbing the shovel into the ground it looks more like murder than it does gardening. You slam the little trowel into the dirt, lips pulled back like a wild animal as dirt flies up around your hair. 

Logan turns back to the truck, letting out a low whistle under his breath. Besides the insane display of shrubbery abuse, you blend into the neighborhood better than he ever could. You fit that perfect suburban aesthetic, sun hat, cat-eye sunglasses, and a pretty dress. 

You’re good at blending in, better than he ever was. He’s heard you joking about it before. Telling Jean your hidden mutant ability is learning to be a chameleon, fitting yourself wherever you are. He thinks it’s a cute idea, and not too far from the truth. 

He only wishes he were a little more like that. He sticks out like a sore thumb with his wifebeater, fraying jeans, and general countenance of misery. He can’t force a smile when John walks by with a shitty joke. He’s not like you. You stomach all of the women’s vapid nonsense with a smile and manage to seem so unaffected by it all. 

The only time he’s seen you break was last night. And that, of course, had been his fault. He wishes he was better with his words. He’s always been an action man, but clearly, he’s fucked that up with you too. He really did mean it as a compliment. 

He’s just incapable of talking without his foot in his mouth when it comes to you. It’s why he tends to just avoid you and stay quiet. He knows he’ll mess up with you eventually. In the rare chance you ever actually give him a second look, he’d be a shitty boyfriend. And even if you were just friends, he’d still fuck up somehow. He always does. 

He’s learned it’s better to just keep a distance between himself and others. Especially you. He’s always just wanted to keep you away from his bullshit. The haunted past he still knows so little about, all the mental baggage he carries, he never wanted to burden you with it. Even though it seems like he still managed to screw up somehow. 

Even when he’s trying to be good he’s still the bad guy. 

You let out a heavy sigh and his gaze drifts back towards you. The way it always seems to do. You’re his sun, bright, beaming, a golden beacon of hope. But he’s always just too far, eclipsing the light you might bring him with his own stupidity. 

You toss the trowel to the ground and stand up. You frown, brushing off all the dirt you’re absolutely caked in. When he peers around you and glances at the spot where the rose bush is supposed to be all he sees is a crater of earth and ripped up grass. He figures it's better not to mention it. 

You walk over to him, the same scowl you’ve had for the past few days ever-present on your face. “I’m going to take a shower,” you look at him expectantly and he shrugs. You let out a loud sigh and he can’t possibly imagine how he’s messed up now. “You need one too, the barbecues in an hour.”

He’d forgotten about the fucking barbecue. Some annual thing Shiela and John threw that the whole neighborhood went to. “It doesn’t take me an hour to get ready,” he tells you, intending a little bit of playfulness. 

Instead, you just let out an exasperated breath and storm back into the house. How did he keep fucking up with you so badly?

He’s gotten a taste of your personality, your company. He’s tried for so long to avoid getting to know you. He knows that if he truly did, he’d never get over you. He was right. Just one taste of you and he wants more, he wants to consume everything about you that he can. He’s screwed up in so many ways but he can’t just go back to normal after this and act like strangers. 

You smooth the wrinkles out of your cotton dress and let out a low breath. “You need another minute?” Logan grumps from beside you, his stare boring into the door. He didn’t want to come to this. Frankly, neither did you, but he needs to suck it up and be a big boy. You two are here for a purpose greater than yourselves. 

Maybe if you repeat that enough times you’ll start to believe it. 

Kimiko was everywhere that Shiela was. She was her shadow, her loyalist servant. And the only person in this neighborhood who’s shown a sliver of consciousness. You don’t know where she lives, or if she even owns a house here. But you do know she’ll be at this barbecue tonight. 

The only reason you’re bothering to bring Logan along is because you need him to distract Shiela. She drools every time she sees him, practically licking her maw at the sight of him in a tight t-shirt. You can’t really blame her, but she’s a married woman and he’s technically a married man. The lack of shame and compassion is genuinely astonishing to you. 

“No. Let’s just get this over with.” He needs no further prompting as he knocks heavily on the door. Each pound of his fist sounds like a bell tolling your doom. The intense feeling of nausea and eyes on the back of your head has developed and grown increasingly worse the longer you’re here. 

You feel like someone’s pressing against your mind, wiggling their fingers in and squeezing until mush slips through their knuckles. You keep a tight grip on Logan so you don’t tip over. Playing it off as the love-sick newlyweds you’re meant to be. 

Even though the feeling of his skin against yours makes you angrier than you can even begin to fathom. You’ve held onto built-up resentment and anger ever since your little tiff. You’ve heard that tumultuous times are common in the beginnings of marriages. Luckily, you’re getting a divorce the second this fucking mission is over. 

You resent Charles for ever sending you here. Any minuscule hopes you’ve had of finally building a relationship with Logan have been dashed across your front yard. There’s no hope for him. He’ll never change, and how he treats you will never change. 

The door swings open and the music from the backyard drifts through to the front. Shiela smiles widely, greeting you both with a drawn-out Hi! She reaches forward and grabs Logan, tugging him away from you and dragging him into a hug. 

You stumble forward as your support is ripped out from under you. She briefly glances over his shoulder at you and you offer her a sardonic smile. Every bit of you wants to dig your nails into her and rip until chunks of her start flying off. The post beside you warps slightly, bending like it’s melting. 

You dig your nails into your palm, swallowing down your anger, and force the post upright once more. Logan grabs Shiela by the waist, practically yanking her off of him. He steps back towards you, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

You can’t help the smug smile that lifts your lips as you face her. You almost want to rub her face in it. He chose you and he can’t stand you, that says a lot about how he feels about her. You stop yourself, though, it’d be beyond idiotic to let that be the reason your cover is blown. 

“Thanks for inviting us,” you tell Shiela, playing oblivious instead of walking into her trap. You pass her the casserole you half-assed and baked in her dish. “We’re so excited to finally have a home to call our own, and with such wonderful neighbors,” you gasp dreamily. “Oh, it’s just a dream come true.”

Shiela runs a manicured nail along the side of her lip, looking wholly unimpressed. “Mhm,” she hums, “I’m sure.” You share a look with Logan, both of you caught off guard by her sudden dip in personality. Her face is blank, devoid of the usual overwrought happiness and charm. It’s like something’s taken control and drained the life from her. 

Either Kimiko’s here and you’re right about her, or, Shiela is just a depressed housewife who can’t always control when she smiles. You’re hoping it’s Kimiko and you can just end this once and for all. 

“Alright,” she’s back in a second like nothing ever happened. The boom of her voice echoing through the foyer makes you jump. “Let’s get you two outside. And thank you so much for this,” she gestures to the casserole. “You’re just such a sweet little thing aren’t you?”

Everything she says to you feels just a tad patronizing. She’s incapable of complimenting you without minimizing you in some way. You dismiss it, shaking off the funk she always seems to put you in. 

Shiela leads you to the backdoor of her porch where the rest of the neighborhood is. She certainly got the best square footage, that’s for sure. She doesn’t just have the biggest house, she’s also got the biggest yard you’ve ever stepped foot on. 

People are milling about, John’s flipping hamburgers on the grill, and children are playing happily with one another. It feels like an advert for the Fourth of July.

You scan the yard for the only person you’re looking for. You spot her, pushed back towards the shadow of Shiela’s oak tree. Shiela follows your gaze with a frown and scoffs. “I know, hideous isn’t it?”

You jump, startled out of your stupor. “Sorry?”

She points towards the tree. “I wanted to get rid of it, but apparently it’s historic,” she throws up air quotes, inflecting her voice lazily, “or something stupid.”

“Oh, right,” you nod dismissively and she shrugs, hands slapping against her thighs as she nods to her yard. 

“Well, go on, socialize, make yourself at home y’all.” She walks back into the house and you glance back at the yard. 

“Shit,” you hiss, “Kimiko’s gone.” You move away from Logan and take a step down the stairs, he begins to follow you but you stop him with a firm hand to his chest. He frowns down at you and you nod towards Shiela. “I need you playing interception. Those two are attached at the hip. The only thing that’s going to distract her is the hunk of meat she’s been drooling over.” 

Logan frowns and takes a step back. He sets his face and crosses his arms and you sigh, knowing exactly what he’s about to say. “No.” He tells you firmly, not even bothering to hear you out. 

“Well,” you shrug. “Too bad, I need you to do this or we’re never getting out of here.”

He mocks your shrug and nods, “Alright. Fine.” He leans into your space and you feel like you’re being scolded, “I’m not leaving you on your own, okay? And I’m not letting you go after Kimiko alone.”

“I’m not going after her,” you glance around, making sure no one is listening to you talk about their neighbor like she’s on a hit list. “I just need one interrupted conversation with her. Just one,” you’re practically pleading with him at this point. 

You feel pathetic. You’re a grown woman and an X-Men. You shouldn’t have to be bartering with Logan. He should just have some faith in your abilities to not only protect yourself but conduct yourself appropriately on a mission. 

His face screws up in irritation and you know he’s about to really cause a scene. He’ll start arguing with you, and blow your spot up just to get you out of here. You give him a placating smile, a real one because he’s somehow learned to tell the difference. “Logan, it’s only for an hour. I’m sure you can fend Shiela off,” you joke to try and lighten the mood.

He sucks in a deep breath and you know you’ve got him when his shoulders sink in defeat. “Fine. I’m only agreeing to this because you’re practically a chameleon with this shit,” he gestures vaguely to the barbecue and your face pinches with confusion. 

“What?” 

“I heard you talking about it with Jean one day. How you’re a chameleon when it comes to blending in with people.”

“Well, that wasn’t exactly a brag. It’s a method of survival, a way to make people like me. It gives me a fighting chance when they find out I’m a mutant.” God, why are you even talking about this? Why had he even been listening to your conversation with Jean?

He opens his mouth like he wants to say something but you don’t have time for that. “Look, Logan, just go find Shiela.” You walk away from him before he can drudge up more uncomfortable memories of high school. 

You manage to slip through the party relatively unnoticed. You didn’t see where Kimiko had disappeared to. You’re hoping there might be some sort of hint left where she had been. You rush towards the oak tree, using it as a way to scan the party for her again. From here you can’t see anything except the kitchen.  

You’ve got a perfect view of Logan trudging towards Shiela. You can’t help but laugh when she wraps her hand around his bicep, eagerly telling him something. You smile and shake your head, the audacity of this woman is amazing. 

Something catches your eye, right by your foot. Glancing down you see something silver glinting through the grass. Frowning, you kneel and scoop it up. It’s an oblong device, small, and fits in the palm of your hand. It’s curved oddly, and the lights on it start flashing bright red as you hold it.

“What the hell?” You flip it over, a warped mirrored reflection on the back of it. You just barely spot Kimiko’s twisted face in the reflection before the world goes black. 

You groan, slowly blinking the fog of a forced sleep out of your eyes. You reach to swipe at your face, but something is holding your wrists down. You jerk your arms a few times, struggling against whatever restraints are wrapped around you. When nothing happens, you instead focus on the feeling of it against your wrist, trying to get it to dissolve. 

“Don’t bother,” a cool voice calls out from the shadows. There’s one bright light shining down on you, like the type you might see above an operating table. The entire room feels sterile. And it’s cold, you can barely feel the tips of your toes or fingers. 

“What’d you do?” You demand, trying to sound intimidating but your words come out as a slur. The back of your head radiates pain and it takes everything in you just to keep your eyes open. 

“I developed a gas,” the voice circles the room, echoing across the curved walls. You hear footsteps but you can’t tell where they’re coming from. “It halts the neurons in a mutant’s brain that fire when they use their abilities. Temporary, but quite handy when I’m dealing with a mentalist like you.”

Kimiko steps out of the shadows like a bad comic book villain. Her face is blank, no expression on it, somehow, it’s the realest she’s ever looked before. Here, you can see her humanity. Pores across her nose, frizz and oil along her hair, her nose just a little bit crooked. Whatever she’d been doing to herself has been wiped away. And the human woman lurking beneath is finally revealed. 

“There you are,” you mutter, your speech slowly coming back to you. “I knew that plastic face wasn’t real.”

“Everything was going just fine until you and Wolverine got here,” she gives you a sharp look, “Flux.”

You sarcastically gasp, “Wow, you know my X-Men name. It’s not like I haven’t been interviewed before. What’s the plan here, Kimiko? Where are the others?”

Her brows pinch, “Others?”

“The mutants you’re trafficking.”

“Oh,” she laughs and it’s so jarring you nearly jump. “Is that what people think?” Hesitantly, you nod, but you’re beginning to feel like you might have gotten something very wrong. “No, that’s not what we’re doing here.”

“We?”

“Shiela and I. We have much simpler plans, much more peaceful. You see, Shiela’s the only person to ever stand beside me after she found out I was a mutant. She gave me a home, a friend, and a sense of belonging.” There’s something devout in her words, like a humble follower kneeling at the feet of their god. “Everything I have, everything I am, I owe to her.”

You’ve seen Shiela’s manipulation firsthand. You have no doubt that she’s never actually done anything for Kimiko. She’s just made her think she had and instilled in her this sense of owing her something. 

Then again, Kimiko’s getting this look on her face. She’s like a rabid dog staring down the barrel of their owner’s shotgun. Perhaps she hadn’t needed much prompting to develop such an unhealthy attachment. “Shiela’s parents never loved her the way they should have. They never gave her the perfect life she deserved. So I created one for her.”

She rolls a tray of surgical tools over and a sense of panic finally starts to rouse within you. Yet, for the first time in years, your powers aren’t here to help you. You have nothing to rely on but yourself. But you’ve been trained so intensively in using your abilities as a protector rather than an inhibitor that you’re practically useless without them. 

“All these people,” you rush the words out as she picks up a syringe. You don’t know what the yellow liquid inside is, but from the look on her face, you don’t want to. “You’re controlling them?”

Kimiko nods and you’d be staggering if you weren’t strapped down. Not even Charles could control this many people at once. Not without Cerebro. “Kimiko, that’s,” you gasp, flinching away as she brings the needle towards your arms. “It’s incredible!” Your quick rise in volume makes her jolt and the syringe tumbles out of her hands. 

She grumbles to herself, leaning over to pick it up. “Does Shiela know?” She pauses at the mention of Shiela’s name, brushing her hair over her shoulder and glaring at you. 

“Yes. Of course she does, this is my greatest gift to her.”

“Really?” Your voice drips with contrived empathy. “Then I’m sure she’s done something incredible for you back.” You were hoping a simple manipulation tactic might work, that you could turn Kimiko against an ungrateful Shiela. But this type of obsession isn’t one that can’t be destabilized with a few jumbled words. 

No, you only make her angrier. “Back? Back?” she practically screams, her voice raw and feral as she leaps into your face. You flinch as far back as you can as her face hovers over yours, screaming right at you. “I owe her everything! I should thank her for letting me breathe the same air as hers!”

Your jaw drops, a silent scream tripping out of your mouth as you gasp for air. Something squeezes against your brain, the pulsing from before returns with a vengeance. You can feel your mind pulsing and swelling, pushing against your skull. 

“Don’t fucking say her name again,” Kimiko glares down at you, her eyes devoid of any remorse or compassion as she makes your brain swell until blood leaks down your ears. Whatever plan she had before has been abandoned, she’s going to just kill you now. 

You’re going to die in her basement, no one will ever see you again. Your eyes throb and you feel your brain push to its fullest limits. The pressure builds, builds, and builds until it explodes. 

“Then you just pour a little sugar in.” Logan watches as Shiela tips nearly an entire bag of cane sugar into her jug of sweet tea. His stomach shrivels at the sight and he fights down bile. A little bit of sugar drops over the edge. She catches it on her finger and looks over her shoulder, licking the sugar off and practically deepthroating her own finger. All while maintaining a disturbing amount of eye contact with Logan. 

“Well,” he knows that he promised you a while with Kimiko, but he can’t handle much more of this. “Thank you so much for this,” he struggles with the word, landing weakly on, “lesson.” He’s not even sure what the point of watching her prepare all this food was. 

He’s pretty sure she just wanted him to see her leave a rim of red lipstick at the bottom of her finger as many times as possible. The entire time he’s just wanted to go back to you. There’s a nasty feeling gnawing at him and he knows he needs to get back to you soon. 

“Oh,” she seems genuinely disappointed and Logan sighs awkwardly. “Leaving already, huh?”

He points to his ring pointedly reminding her of the reality of their situation. “Gotta get back to the wife.”

She doesn’t even try to hide her sneer as he mentions you. “Of course, just the perfect husband aren’t you?”

Logan doesn’t dignify that with a response, too distracted by what’s happening outside the window. People have begun to wander around aimlessly, some of them stumbling into the fencing. They just keep walking forward, knocking into the wood repeatedly, not once stopping. John’s got a stuck smile on his face as he leans against the grill, Logan can see smoke rising from where the flesh of his palm is melting onto the metal. A few people all run into each other, collapsing on the ground and just lying there. 

They’re like robots, suddenly without command and unsure what to do. They’re following their programming without anyone putting a stop to it. Shiela follows his gaze and gasps. “Excuse me,” she mutters, practically running out of the room. 

Logan tries to find you amongst all the mess but you’re nowhere to be seen. “Fuck,” he growls out, looking back to where Shiela had run. He should have fucking known not to leave you on your own. 

He stalks after Shiela, listening to her racing heart and the slam of a downstairs door. He follows her down the steps leading to her basement. It looks the same as every other one he’s ever been in. Except, for the metal door hidden behind a few shelving units. The only reason he spots it is because Shiela knocked over a can of paint in her rush toward it. 

Anger brews hot and putrid in his gut. The claws come out unbidden, and the thought of you being locked away in that room pushes him forward. If you’re not in there, he’ll get an answer from Shiela one way or another. But he’s not going to let you get hurt because he didn’t have your back. 

“What the hell are you doing?” A shrill voice interrupts. Your head sinks back against the cool material of the table, brain surging back into place. Your teeth ache, white-hot pain rushing through your bones as Kimiko finally releases her grasp on you. 

Kimiko gives Shiela the look of a dog who just got in trouble. “She found my amplifying device. I have to get rid of her.” She holds the device you found earlier out to Shiela. 

So, she wasn’t as powerful as she pretended. She did need help. It explains why the entire neighborhood is always in the same area, she needs them close to keep control. “Whatever you’re doing is making my toys malfunction.”

Shiela hisses at Kimiko, she darts forward and slaps her hard across the back of the head. If you weren’t in excruciating and paralyzing pain, you’d flinch at the sound. Being as if your brain was just about to explode, though, you could give less of a shit if she beats her rabid dog up. 

These two crazy bitches deserve each other. You just want a Tylenol and a nap at this point. “Well, aren’t you two twisted sisters?” Logan slips through the door, his claws glinting under the light of the room. “Toys?” He demands, eyes roaming the room desperately. 

The second he sees you, strapped down and with blood pouring from your orifices, something slips over his face. It’s like a mask being ripped off. The man he pretends to be is ripped apart by the animal truly lurking within him. Neither women have time to even defend themselves. He goes for Kimiko first and all you see his claws plunging down before arterial blood sprays across your face. 

You groan, tilting your chin the other way and spitting the metallic liquid out of your mouth. There are a long few minutes of screaming, clothes shredding, and blood splashing against every surface of the room. By the time he’s completely calmed down, you’re drenched in it. 

You suck on your teeth, rolling your head limply and finally getting a good look at him. He’s panting, standing over their mutilated corpses with blood dripping down his claws. There’s a wrath on his face you’re happy to have never been on the other end of. But the second he looks at you, you see nothing but stark relief. 

He breathes out your name, your real one, and surges towards you. “Claws!” You shout, hurting your head again. But he was a second away from accidentally skewering you. They’re put away in an instant as he undoes the straps holding you down. 

You groan in relief as the pressure around your head and limbs is released. He perches himself on the edge of the table and scoops you into his chest.

You’re still loopy from Kimiko messing around in the grooves of your brain. The best you can manage is weakly draping your arms along his sides. He pulls you back and brushes the hair out of your face, laughing a little at the blood covering you. “They do anything to you?”

You shrug, “Besides turn my brain into a pressure cooker? No.”

The smile drops from his face and he glares down at the remains of the women. If you weren’t so tired, you’d think he wants to kill them again. “I should have been here.”

“Logan-” You want to tell him not to be ridiculous. You had insisted you could take care of yourself. Told him it would only be a conversation when you knew that was never going to be true. You’d gotten yourself into this, you were lucky he was there to get you out. But you don’t say anything because he interrupts you as he so often does. 

“I can’t keep acting like this is all okay. Like I’m happy with how we treat each other. I thought I was going to lose you, I’m not going to keep pretending I don’t care about you.”

Your face screws up in confusion and you’re not sure you want to hear where he’s going with this. You’ve been used to this dynamic between the two of you for so long. You’re used to him treating you like he can't stand to breathe the same air as you. If this is going where you think it is, you’re not sure you can handle it. 

“Logan,” you’re regaining some feeling in your limbs now. You use the returning strength to push away from him, shaking your head in disbelief. “No, you can’t do this. You can’t just change your-”

He’s incapable of letting you finish a single sentence. His hands wrap around your cheeks tugging you forward until your lips are brushing together. It’s enough of a shock to get you to stop talking. You don’t reciprocate, too stunned to even think about moving. 

He brushes his lips against yours again, firmer this time. Under the layers of blood coating you both, you’re wholly enveloped by him. His scent, his arms, everything about him drapes over you like a warm blanket. Against your better judgment, you find yourself returning the kiss. 

You move further into his lap, one hand holding his face and the other clutching at his hair, needing something to hold to keep you steady in this moment. Logan smiles against your lips, deepening the kiss without wasting another beat. His tongue moves gently across yours at first. A curious caress to see how well you two fit together. He groans when he gets a taste of you, pushing further in and kissing you like he wants to devour you.  

There’s warmth blooming in your stomach and spreading all along your body. You’re buzzing with adrenaline and pain and this unidentifiable feeling that Logan is evoking from you. It’s not the sweet mushy, romantic kiss you always imagined with him. 

This is desperate. Like a dying man’s last attempt at redemption. He’s tasting you like you’re rare, something to be savored. You feel like you’re the only thing left in existence. The only person left for him to admire. You forget the gore behind you, the tumultuous experiences you’ve had with him. 

You let yourself fall into the moment, a blind leap of faith into a pool of all your hopes and desires. He’s better than you ever could have imagined. More desperate than your wildest fantasies. He makes no move to stop, even as the air becomes scarce and you both have to part longer. He just grips you tighter, hands wrapped around you like he’s worried if he lets go he’ll lose you. 

He could, he could lose you. This kiss of his is putting you into a trance, distracting you from all he’s trying to make up for. Perhaps if he stops kissing you, you’ll remember it all and want nothing to do with him. But you don’t see that happening, you just see yourself craving more and more for him., You feel the addiction forming already. A deep-seated need in your bones is finally being sated, it will always need more from him. 

When you can no longer survive on the shared oxygen between you both, you’re forced to part. Your cheeks tingle from the stubble of his beard and you know your lips are pink and swollen because his are too. You’re both still coated in blood and you share a familiar glean in your eyes. 

“I never hated you,” he sounds breathless and you love that you’re the cause of it. “I just didn’t want to lose you.”

You scoff, but there are no cruel intentions behind it. “So you push me away before you ever get a chance to have me?”

He gives you a crooked smile, “I never said I was smart.” You can’t help but laugh at that. Slowly, he helps you to your feet, ignoring the puddles of blood and bits. “We'll have to call Charles. He needs to help the people out there.”

“We also need to let him know there’s no trafficking ring. Just one fucked psyche.” You shoot another glare at the pile that was Kimiko, still bitter about her experiment with your brain. As Logan helps you up the stairs of the basement, you stop him just before you reach the door. 

He gives you a concerned look, like he thinks you’ve hurt something somehow. “I want to talk to you. Really talk to you about everything.” Concern gives way to dread and you can’t help but smile at the regretful look on his face. “But first,” his head perks in interest at your tone, “maybe we can finally enjoy that master bed together?”

“You know,” he leans down, swiping his arms under your knees and lifting you. You gasp, through your arms around his neck and squeezing until you worry you might suffocate him. “You really are the smart one of us, aren’t you?”

“Clearly.”

You’re not sure how well this transition to married couple to tentatively something else is going to go. But you have hope and it's kept you going for all these years. What's wrong with letting it linger a little longer?

a/n: Guess who's back, back again? Hint, it's Flux. I missed writing for them, so I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did. Although, I worry the ending was too cheesy.

Reblogs, comments, likes, and requests are always appreciated !!

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp ♡ 

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte

@mrs-ephemeral  @wolviesgirl @insomniachox @izbelross @spktrlvr ♡

[adanfore]

Something about virgin Choso fucks me up in the head oh my god.

He acts tough. Every time he’s around you, talking to Yuuji, his brothers, he puts on a show as though nothing in the world matters, he’s always calm, layed back. Talking to him, you always got so nervous when he stared you down every time without a care in the world it seems, to you it looked like talking to anyone for him was easy as a breeze of wind, you kind of wished you were like that, like Choso. That also was half of why you were attracted to the man. The other half, well, self explanatory: he was great with his brothers, he was attractive in his own damn way which made your knees weak every time you saw him.

You hadn’t expected him to be a virgin, and a whiney one at that. When you had walked past the bathroom to the kitchen, you heard him in

the bathroom, he was masturbating.. Were you eavesdropping? Yes, but you couldn’t hold yourself from listening in to his beautiful cries of pleasure, whimpering, pleading for some reason, those pretty moans and whines turned you on more than you imagined. Well, the worst part came when you had not realized he was done already, you only realized when he opened the door and stood there, shocked, embarrassement flood over you and you just ran back to the guest bedroom.

If it only wasn’t for you getting carried away, this wouldn’t be happening right now, you and Choso sitting on the sofa, akwardly waiting for Yuuji to come back from the kitchen so the atmosphere turns nice again. You can feel Choso sneaking glances at you, fidgeting with the black silver rings on his fingers. Not wanting to have this continue for any longer, you decided you’d speak up.

“Listen, I’m sorry for yesterday, I just.. uh..”

You couldnt find a explanation for yourself.

“N-No, It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have.. Uhm, I shouldn’t have done it in the bathroom.”

“But I was eavesdropping on you, I need to apologize for that. I just couldn’t help but get carried away from… Shock!”

And as Choso was about to answer, Yuuji suddenly came into the room, having only heard muffles of your conversation.

“Yo, what’re you guys talking about?”

With a panic, you blurt whatever comes to mind.

“ Oh! I was just telling Choso that I’ll be helping him later.”

“Helping him with what?”

“Just washing the dishes, just to repay him for yesterday, I hit him after he scared me in the dark at night!

Yuuji seems content with that answer, and sits between you two. You couldn’t help but notice how Choso looked at you after you said you’ll help him later, eyes a little wide, a deep red spreading on his cheeks. He didn’t know whether to take it seriously or not, well, you were just making an excuse, but still, a gesture like that would blow his mind completely.

After the movie marathon, you both HAD to go wash the dishes, to play some truth into your silly excuse you gave to Yuuji, it was akward, very akward washing dishes with him. But you got to see Choso, the real him, how he was all fidgety, getting clumsy and blushing as hard as a cherry.

“Was it true..? What you said earlier?”

“What are you talking about, Choso?”

“H-How you said you’d help me later..”

“I am helping you thoug- Oh, you mean that?”

You said as the realization hit you, he was hard, and it was all because of your choice of words.

“I-I’m sorry, I am just gonna go, real sorry for thi-“

“N-No, Choso! I- I can help you, if you want me to?”

The sigh Choso gave out was huge.

“Please…”

That was all you needed to hear, proceeding to drag him up to his room at the back of the hall, the location of his room, being secluded and far away from any other room made you so grateful.

You sat him on the edge of his bed, leaning down to massage his thighs.

“How do you want me to help you, Choso?”

Hearing his name come out of your pretty lips always made him want to hold back smashing his face into yours, but now, he was just confused, he didn’t know what would be the most ‘appropriate’ thing to ask. All he wanted now, was to ruin you, to make you his, kiss you, feel and touch you everywhere he had ever dreamed of.

“I.. I don’t know, just- just touch me, do whatever, please..”

When you heard that, you immediately knew that he was a virgin, to your shock infact. Not wanting to torture this poor man any longer, you stopped massaging his thighs for a moment and told him to slide his sweatpants down, all the while looking at the wet spot of precum left on them.

You looked at his length for a second, before actually bringing your hand up to it, to rub and feel it to all of its size, he was huge, possibly the biggest you’ve ever had in a partner. It blew your mind and you wondered how it would feel inside you, how it would fill all of your insides, but, right now it was all about Choso’s pleasure which needed to be fixed.

The pool of precum doubled in size as you continued rubbing it, deciding to finally free it from his boxers, Choso moaned when it sprang up and hit his stomach. That made you look up at him, needing to hear more of his sounds, he looked back at you with a pleading look on his face which just said “please, touch me already”

You grabbed his length with your hand and started stroking it, slowly at first, picking up speed with some time. The moans, whines and whimpers this man put out were sent straight to your core.

“Please, Please, please, go faster, please, I’m gonna cum, Y/N, please!”

That motivated you to pick up speed, also to tighten your grip on his length to up the pleasure for him. His moans were getting out of control until you looked up at him with a strict look, telling him to be quiet. With that sense of dominance, he came all over, all over your hand, his stomach and thighs. His chest heaving, some small moans still coming out as he came down from his high.

You brought your hand up to your mouth, licking your hand and tasting Him before you began to walk out of his room, off to finish yourself off.

“W-Wait, can’t I make you feel good now?”

“I did this as an apology, Choso. Some other time, maybe.”

And with a wink and a smirk to him, you walked off to your room with an almost unbarable heat between your legs, it also had to be fixed.

NOT PROOFREAD ITS FUCKING 5 AM I WANNA GO SLEEP, ILL DO IT SOME OTHER TIME

[hanniesbrat]

drunk in love | yjh

NSFW | MDNI!!

genre: friends -> fwb -> lovers, angst, smut, fluff

pairing: yoon jeonghan x fem!reader

WC: 6.7k

cw: drinking, angry jeonghan bc i said so, smut, exhibitionism pretty much, spanking, degradation (he calls you a "slut" and "whore" a couple times :3), unprotected sex, creampie, choking, cucking (poor josh but also he had it coming), pet names ("pretty girl", "baby", and "princess"), oral (f rec), little bit of butt stuff, mc has a LOT of internal thoughts/ dialog lol, possessive jeonghan, possessive jeonghan, and possessive jeonghan. lmk if i missed anything !!

synopsis: when a game of truth, dare, or drink with the boys turns to shit (thanks to hoshi and josh), jeonghan has no choice but to prove himself to be the best dick you've ever had ): (SPOILER: he is. oh he most definitely IS the best dick you've ever had)

! nsfw content below the cut. mdni !

you’ve known the boys for years.

you’d met mingyu back in your senior year of highschool. both of you being on the friendly, outgoing side of introversion, he knew he had to introduce you to his rather large group of friends once you guys graduated.

and wow was your life was never the same.

you had a group of down to earth boys (men) who all looked after you like no one else had. a friend group that people could only ever dream of. no one got upset if you chose to hang out with only one of them for a day, rather than the whole group. if you wanted to go out clubbing with your girlfriends, they all knew you had 13 body guard options to call before heading out. and the best part, your best friend of the group might as well be a professional chef. you never had to worry about going hungry or even cooking as long as you had mingyu around.

other than mingyu, you ended up gravitating toward minghao, jihoon, seungcheol, and jeonghan. almost entirely separate, but sometimes you, seungcheol, and jeonghan would go out on a weeknight for some 2am ihop.

the last thing you or anyone else had expected however, was for you and jeonghan to develop a “situationship” of sorts together.

over the last couple months, you both started developing what you thought were strictly sexual feelings toward each other. now, you weren’t so sure. you knew your feelings were turning into something far deeper than just lust, but you quickly tried to shut them down in fear of ruining your initial friendship with him. tried to. you also were terrified to face those feelings because… you had no idea how he felt. other than the occasional secret or rant that he needed to share with you that he couldn’t share with the boys, jeonghan was pretty emotionally reserved. you had NO idea how he actually felt about you beyond friendly and horny.

until that night.

-

truth, dare, or drink was a game that you played with the boys every once in awhile when you guys were feeling frisky. normally, it came to one of your brains once you guys had already been drinking through the night.

in tonight’s game, jeonghan thought it’d be funny to dare jihoon to lean over and give you a kiss. childish. so childish. you could tell he just didn’t have any better idea in his buzzed brain.

“awww don’t be a pussy, jihoon!” jeonghan taunted him. he was leaning backward due to you being sandwiched between the two boys at the table, jihoon to your left, jeonghan to your right.

“nah i’m not touching her, hannie. you’re funny” jihoon chuckled, throwing back the clear liquid.

“heyyyy rude!” you pouted, crossing your arms playfully, a smile threatening to pull at your mouth.

“tsss…” jihoon put down the shot glass. “jeonghan would kill me, y/n” he chuckled. then, “ow!” he yelled, still laughing.

you whipped your head to jeonghan who was… glaring at jihoon? he’d smacked him upside the head and you had no idea why. you thought jihoon making that comment was just to poke fun at the fact that everyone knew you and jeonghan were basically fuck buddies. however, jeonghan didn’t find it very funny for whatever reason. you playfully pushed his face telling him to lighten up. to that he faintly smiled before putting his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers together in front of his face. he looked like a cartoon villain. what was he so upset about?

“anyways…” you were the next to talk. “soonyoung! your turn!” you enthused leaning back in your seat to look at the boy to the right of jeonghan.

soonyoung jumped out of his seat before nearly screaming, “Y/N!”

“oh fuck.” jihoon mumbled looking into his lap. you broke eye contact with soonyoung to look at jihoon in confusion.

“i’m so sorry to do this.” you looked back up at soonyoung. what the fuck is going on?

“man i swear, if you don’t keep your mouth shut,” jihoon stood up from his chair.

“what? i have to ask!”

“no, no you don’t.” jihoon’s voice was threateningly low, and you now thought you had a hunch as to what’s about to happen. your heart started to race.

“is it true that you and hoon hooked up at last year’s halloween party?!”

“i’m gonna beat your fucking ass-“

you pushed your chair out blocking jihoon’s path before he could follow through. you shot your arm out for good measure to make sure he didn’t try to pass you. he silently turned around and sat back in his chair.

when you turned back around to face soonyoung, you couldn’t help but feel jeonghan’s eyes burning holes into you along with everyone else’s.

“dude, why?” you asked in a low tone.

“whaaaat the game was getting boring! i had to spice things up a bit,” he teased putting a hand on his hip before pointing his finger in your face over jeonghan’s head. “now answer the question or take a shot missy. either way, we’ll know the answer.”

you glared at him intensely sitting back down in your chair and quietly saying “it’s true,” before reaching for the shot in front of you and slamming it anyways. you needed it. you felt jeonghan’s eyes on the side of your face and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. you just locked eyes with mingyu across the table, knowing that even with his shock, his gaze would comfort you nonetheless. it worked. his face quickly went from a “what the fuck?” expression to a reassuring “we’ll talk about this later” look.

“ahem”

no.

“that’s interesting,” josh said from the head of the table.

“josh!” you, seungcheol and mingyu yelled at the same time. they also knew what joshua had to have been thinking, and didn’t want you to endure more embarrassment.

“ i thought i was your only little secret,” he said in a condescending tone, crossing his arms.

your face was hot. “it happened years ago josh!” you were yelling from your seat. “and we haven’t talked about it since! why are you even bringing it up? who cares!”

SLAM! you flinched. jeonghan had punched the table.

“i fucking do!” he yelled shooting up from his chair. “while we’re here,” his voice dropped, placing his palms on the table, leaning forward glancing at everyone. “would anyone else like to confess to fucking y/n?”

“jeonghan,” you reached your hand up to rest on his arm and you felt his muscles stiffen.

“it’s not like that,” jihoon followed up, trying to reassure him. jeonghan wouldn’t look at him. “it was over a year ago. it wasn’t important then, and it’s not important now.”

“it still fucking happened,” he looked over his shoulder down at you. “and you didn’t tell me about it.” his tone was laced with what could only be described as anguish.

“doesn’t seem like she’s told anyone,” josh pettily adds before taking a sip of whatever drink he’d made for himself before the game started.

now you were the one to punch the table but you didn’t stand up. “dammit josh! jihoon and i both agreed we’d pretend like it never happened. it was a mistake. and it happened years after you and i hooked up so why would i tell you out of everyone?! i didn’t even tell mingyu!” you were shaking in your seat. your breath rapid as you were hitting the peak of your anger induced high. shitfaced josh didn’t know when to stop. sober josh would never even slightly push anyone’s buttons the way drunk josh was vigorously punching yours right now (and jeonghan’s).

“well it seems you told mingyu and cheol about us, so what’s the reason for that? was i too good to forget?”

before jeonghan could even start to move toward him you stood up, forcefully holding him back by his shoulder. he froze. “josh…” you started, still keeping your hand on jeonghan to make sure he didn’t try anything. “i told them because i was fucking humiliated, and couldn’t believe that i fucked you.” you spat. “is that what you wanted to hear?” you could’ve sworn in that moment, all of jeonghan’s tension shifted to josh because as jeonghan found his way back into his chair, josh stood up. it didn’t phase you in the slightest.

“you’re fucking lying, y/n. i had to have been the best you ever-”

“fucking watch yourself man,” seungcheol warned, also getting out of his seat to defend you and jeonghan, his best friend.

“oh what? did you fuck her too?”

“that’s it!” jeonghan shot back out of his chair charging toward him.

luckily seungcheol was at the chair right next to josh and managed to get to him before jeonghan, stepping in front of him as some sort of human shield. jeonghan stopped in his tracks, mere inches away from his best friend.

“cheol, move.” he growled.

“walk away jeonghan.” seungcheol tried to calm him down.

“i’m not walking the fuck away. move or i’ll move you myself.”

“hannie, it’s not worth it,” you chimed in, making your way to him. “he [josh] isn’t worth it. what we did isn’t worth it.” joshua scoffed at your comment. you tried to ignore him, knowing that if sober josh was in there somewhere, he was telling his drunk self to just shut the fuck up and go along with all of it. although you really were ashamed of that hookup. you guys were like 19 at the time after all.

“look,” jeonghan turns around to face you. “jihoon? i get it. don’t ask me how or why, but it’s not much of a shock to me. i can suck it up over that.” he pointed his arm out behind him straight at josh, still looking at you. “but him? fucking joshua?” his voice nearly breaking at the end.

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” josh mumbled.

you and jeonghan ignored him.

“it happened years ago hannie.” it suddenly dawned on you how intense this simple game of truth or dare had turned. as you and jeonghan stared at each other in silence, everyone else waiting for what was gonna happen next, you had a million thoughts running through your mind. why does he care so much ? is it because josh is one of his best friends and he can’t believe josh didn’t tell him? is he… jealous? no. maybe?

it was almost like jeonghan could hear the questions in your head. his face turned into something small and ashamed as he slowly lowered his head looking down at the ground. one last thought was about to run through your head. is he like in lo-

then seungkwan broke the silence, clearing his throat. you both whipped your heads to the other end of the table. everyone else still staring at the two of you. “why don’t we just continue the game. no more stupid bullshit, soonyoung.”

you took a deep breath. “i think i like the sound of that boo,” you held your hand out for jeonghan to take and he did so hesitantly. not until the two of you were fully seated did seungcheol make his way back to his seat. everyone’s eyes moved to josh still standing at the end of table… waiting for him to sit.

“josh?” mingyu spoke up. it was almost like he snapped him out of a trance.

“yeah! yeah let’s keep playing,” he blurted sitting back down.

“alright well i guess it’s my turn then,” seungcheol nervously chuckled. “jun! i dare you to take a shot!”

“what?” jun laughed. collectively the tension in the room withered away as everyone started laughing softly, giving seungcheol confused looks, except for josh. he just sat, straight faced.

“yeah, you’ve barely drank tonight! cmon! either way you have to take a shot soooo…” seokmin added.

“okay okay,” jun smiled while leaning over the table for the bottle.

once he took the shot, everyone carefully looked to joshua who was clearly faking his enthusiasm now. “okay well… i gotta go with y/n!” he said in such a deceptively happy tone, you knew he wasn’t over what had just finally ended for you and literally everyone else at the table.

vernon spoke up for the first time since his last turn probably 15 minutes ago, “please don’t be a dick dude.” he casually took a sip of his drink.

“don’t worry, don’t worryyyy. i just gotta ask her something.”

you watched jeonghan’s face as he stared at his drink in front of him. his jaw was clenched so tight you thought he might shatter his teeth. you put your hand on his thigh under the table to silently tell him you wish josh would shut up just as bad as he did. “why don’t you just leave her alone man?” jeonghan asked calmly not looking away from his glass.

“well i would but there’s just this burning question i have in my head that i can’t shake,” josh was slurring a bit but still thinking about his next words wisely. “y/n,” he was staring into your soul, and you did the same to him, not backing down. “was i not the best you’ve ever had?”

“no,” you immediately answered. “no you weren’t. why do you think i never mentioned it again?” jeonghan smiled to himself looking down in his lap, grabbing your hand that was on his thigh. the gesture was oddly sweet in this bitter situation.

“oh? well then who was the best hm?” josh followed up.

“oh, jeonghan! hands down,” you didn’t even hesitate. his grip on your hand tightened, the grin on his face widening as his eyes stayed locked in his lap. you even heard jihoon softly chuckle behind you.

“bullshit,” josh accused. jeonghan quickly looked up at him, tilting his head ever so slightly. “no way he’s giving it to you better than i did.”

after that comment, everyone collectively started yelling at him to just go to sleep or leave the game, anything to get him to stop his petty remarks. including you. you were still yelling when jeonghan turned to you, cupping your face, “shut the fuck up,” he whispered before grabbing your wrist and forcefully pulling you away from the table. he stopped at the end by josh’s chair.

“fine!” jeonghan exclaimed, silencing everyone. he then leaned in to josh’s ear, “i’ll just let you hear how much better im giving it to her.” and with that jeonghan was dragging you up the stairs at an aggressive pace, not even giving anyone the opportunity to respond.

once you reached the top of the stair case he spun you around in front of him so you were walking backwards. you passed the banister as he started taking off your shirt. your bare chest on display for anyone to see had they looked up from the table down below. you couldn’t care less.

“kiss me,” you whimpered trying not to stumble backward as he’s fondling with the button of your pants. he obeyed, eagerly crashing his lips into yours as you both neared his room. he started turning you to the left and you knew you’d reached your destination. he didn’t push you all the way into his room though.

“if it gets to be too much say ‘stop’,” he breathed before pushing you against his open door and dropping to his knees, immediately pulling your pants down. you stepped out of them without a second thought. is he just gonna fuck me against his open bedroom door?

“fuck!” you gasped out as he dove in after your clothed core. i guess the answer is yes.

“jesus y/n,” he growled moving your underwear to the side. “you’re fucking soaked already,” he continued to lap at your pussy, the annoying fabric now out of the way.

“mmm liked you getting m-mad,” you whispered, not wanting the others to hear your confession. you knew it sounded pathetic.

jeonghan groaned into you in response. you liked him fuming over the thought of someone else fucking you better than he did? if his dick wasn’t pushing to break free from his sweats before, it sure was now.

“fuck, you’re such a slut y/n,” he slurred, now grabbing at your underwear, ripping it on each side down the seams and throwing them right across the hall into josh’s open room.

“hannie what the fuck?” you bemoaned. you’d just bought the lacy fabric the other day for him to admire, not ruin. the fact that he threw them in josh’s room couldn’t be less of a concern to you right now.

he stood up putting his hand around your neck, firmly pressing you against the door. “what?” he asked innocently, taunting you before crashing his lips back into yours. you moaned into the kiss, desperate for him to touch you again.

as if he’d read your mind, he used his free hand to pull down the waistband of his sweats, finally letting his dick breathe. he put his cock in between your legs, basically fucking your thighs. the subtle friction against your clit was enough to send you spiraling. you were over his teasing and torture.

“hannie, please,” you panted.

“please what?” he mocked, still rutting against the heat between your legs.

“please fuck me,” you whined.

it wasn’t good enough for him. “what? i’m sorry baby,” baby? “i don’t think josh can hear you.”

you were suddenly reminded of the circumstances surrounding the current situation you were in. you felt yourself turn beet red.

“remember, you can tell me to stop,” he whispered to you, noticing your complexion.

“no, no don’t stop,” you begged.

he smiled maniacally. “okay. so again, i don’t think josh could hear what you said,” his voice rising in the second half.

“please jeonghan, please fuck me. please!” you cried, knowing damn well that josh and unfortunately, everyone else could hear your desperate words.

“such a good little whore for me aren’t you?” his grip on your neck tightened, his other hand grabbing his cock, lining himself up with your entrance. you lifted your leg to give him easier access.

he pushed past your folds and you winced at the slight stretch, but you fit jeonghan like a glove. ever since the first time you guys had sex it almost felt like you were… made for each other in a way.

“you okay?” he nearly wheezed, trying to hold himself back from going completely animalistic on you in this moment. wanting to claim you as his for everyone to hear… for josh to hear.

fuck josh…

he barely let you nod your head before snapping his hips, thrusting his cock into you so fast you swear you saw stars. the squeal that escaped your throat was something of pure filth and you knew that by this point, josh had to have felt like a fucking idiot for everything he said.

jeonghan moved his hands to your thighs, hoisting you up, your back still flat against his door, his cock buried deep inside you. “i’m going to absolutely ruin you and your pretty little pussy,” he fucked himself deeper into you if that was even possible, “not even gonna be able to walk back down these stairs without my help,” he panted.

“mmmph hannie~” were your last whimpering words before he started brutally fucking himself in and out of your sopping cunt. you were a blubbering mess, whining and crying out like a bitch in heat.

“dammit y/n how are you always this t-tight,” jeonghan groaned before swallowing your sounds in a sloppy, wet kiss. his tongue desperately darted into your mouth to dance with yours and you were more than willing to let it in. your tongues danced together not so elegantly as his dick was thrusting into you with determination, his door thudding against the wall to the rhythm he’d set, and you moaning uncontrollably into his mouth.

you started to wonder what everyone downstairs was doing. especially josh.

“mmm wait wait wait hannie wait,” you put your hands on his shoulders putting enough distance between your bodies just to speak.

“i-i feel bad for everyone downstairs. should we keep doing this?” you whispered, giggling a little as the gravity of the situation really started weighing on you.

“i really don’t give a fuck about everyone downstairs.” he kissed you deeply. “unless it really makes you uncomfortable, then we’ll stop.”

“i’m not really uncomfortable just… feel bad.”

“well don’t. and remember how this all started?”

he was right.

“you’re right,” you threw your arms around his neck, attacking his lips with your own, taking control of the situation.

he let your legs down, now gripping your waist, pulling your naked body closer to him. you spun the two of you around so he was against the door. you pulled away from your kiss to lift his shirt over his head and throw it into his room. you then dropped to your knees, almost mirroring his actions from earlier. you pulled his sweats and underwear down to his ankles and he kicked them off to the side.

“fuck hannie,” you moaned, clenched around nothing as you were eye level with his cock. jeonghan could’ve came just at the sight of you gawking over his dick beneath him.

“y/n as much as i’d love to feel your mouth around me, i need to fuck you properly and i need to do it now,” he cooed cupping your face. he traced his thumb across your lip and you took it into you mouth, sucking on it like a binkie. “fuck, you’re such a fucking slut y/n,” he ripped his hand from your mouth. “on the bed. now.”

you started to stand up but he stopped you, “no, crawl.” you did exactly as you were told and crawled your way to the foot of his bed.

you could predict he’d want you on all fours, but you didn’t want to assume, so you sat on the edge of his bed waiting for further instructions.

“you know how i want you.” he was making his way toward you.

you quickly turned around on your knees and lowered yourself so your face and arms were flat on the bed and your ass was in the air.

when jeonghan got within arms length of your body, without hesitation he slapped your right ass cheek before grabbing it tightly, his left hand doing the same to the other side. you just yelped and balled up the sheets in your fists.

spreading you so wide you thought you might split, he speaks again. “there’s so much more of you that i want to explore, y/n,” he mumbled lining himself up with your aching core once again.

“s-so explore me, jeonghan,” your voice was rather shaky as you waited for his cock to be shoved into you at any moment.

“fuck baby…” baby again? you didn’t have time to process the pet name once again before jeonghan picked up where you guys had left off.

his hands were holding onto your waist for dear life as he railed you into his bed with no mercy.

“f-f-fuck hann-nie!” you cried out, every stutter on beat with his hips. a string of the most lewd whimpers, whines and groans you’ve every let fly from your mouth followed.

“uh huh, that’s r-right. how g-good do i-fuck~ fuck you huh?” he boasted.

something about jeonghan’s feral tendencies to “claim” you had you tightening around him over and over, that familiar knot forming in your tummy.

“g-god hannie i’m c-close!” you warned, gripping the sheets until your knuckles turned white.

he pulled his dick out of you instantly. you started pouting, “noooo hannie why did you-“

you heard a pop from his mouth and couldn’t help but turn your head around as far as you could. “hannie?”

“if you don’t like it, or it’s too much, what do you say?”

“‘stop’… what are you- fuck!”

jeonghan’s thumb was prodding at your other hole, barely being granted access due to it never being messed with. “too much?” he asked as the tip of his thumb slipped in.

the groan that escaped your mouth was all he needed but you tried to respond anyway, “n-no hannie~ fffuck…” your voice trailed off, the new sensation sending your body into a blissfully painful new level of pleasure.

jeonghan lined himself back up, slipping inside of you with ease at this point. the sensation of being able to feel his cock sliding in and out of you through your ass with his thumb was a feeling he didn’t know he needed. he threw his head back, slowly pulling himself out almost entirely before steadily pushing himself back into you, pushing down with his thumb to feel every inch through your gummy walls. “god dammit, y/n. you’re gonna be the death of me,” he snarled before once again picking back up to his animalistic pace from before.

you both were a moaning mess, in your own bubble of euphoria when suddenly, you were rudely interrupted by an annoyingly familiar voice.

“okay you fucking psychopaths, your point has been made. can you shut the fuck up now?!” josh yelled from down below. if you two were being honest, the moment jeonghan had you crawling across the floor to his bed, you’d forgotten all about josh and the others.

“no. you can come close the fucking door!” jeonghan yelled back trying to keep his voice steady when in reality, he could fall apart here and now. fall to his knees and cry at how amazing you were making him feel. you’re the reason he can fuck you so good. you make it impossible not to.

“god you guys are fucking obnoxious…” josh’s voice trailed off at the end of his sentence as he reached jeonghan’s door. he froze in his tracks. his drunken state didn’t really allow him to comprehend that he was going to be walking in on jeonghan absolutely wrecking you. he was just coming up to close the door, but he couldn’t stop staring.

he was snapped out of his daze when jeonghan whipped his head around, making immediate eye contact with him, not slowing down his thrusts in the slightest, completely unfazed.

“the fuck do you want?” he spat. you managed to turn your head to the side to catch a glimpse of the boy in the doorway. your vision blurry from being completely fucked out of your mind. you knew it felt wrong that he was seeing all of this, but your brain was so fuzzy you couldn’t really focus on anything else other than jeonghan.

“i- i was just closing the door,” josh managed to mutter out. as he reached for the doorknob, jeonghan spoke up again.

“no. you wanna watch so bad?” he slowly took his thumb out of you first, then his cock. you subconsciously whimpered at the sudden empty feeling. you knew you should move, knew you should adjust so you weren’t so exposed for josh to see but you couldn’t bring yourself to in your sex drunk (and still literally tipsy) state.

jeonghan, dick still out, made his way over to josh. “then come have a seat,” his tone was bitter as he grabbed him by the shoulder and walked him to his desk chair, nearly throwing him down.

“dude i don’t-“

“i dont want to hear it. you’re the one that stopped to watch so im giving you what you want, yeah?” suddenly jeonghan had dominance over everyone in the room. all josh could do was nod in response.

with the main reason for all of this absurdity now sitting in the room, jeonghan felt it was appropriate to shut the door. he did so forcefully, then made his was back over to you.

your head already being turned to your left where jeonghan’s desk was, you were looking right at josh. you quickly flipped your head the other way, embarrassed by your state. jeonghan took a fistful of your hair and slowly pulled you up so your back was flat against chest.

“i want him to watch me make you fall apart,” he whispered so gently in your ear for no one else to hear. “is that okay pretty girl?” the nickname making your tummy do flips all over again. of course that was okay. sure it would be embarrassing for the first 5 seconds, but josh pissed you off tonight more than anyone. so yes, yes of course he could be put in his place with a front row seat to the show.

“jeonghan yes,” you breathed desperately, clenching around nothing.

“good,” you wish you could see the smile on his face that you could hear when he spoke. “now, when you lay back down, turn your head back toward him so he can watch your face while i claim what’s mine.”

what’s his?

you did as you were told and when jeonghan loosened his grip on your hair, you lowered yourself back down with your face in the sheets facing joshua once again. he looked at you with a stare that was incomprehensible. was it lust? embarrassment? anger? probably all of the above, but you didn’t care. all you cared about was jeonghan filling you back up.

jeonghan started to make a snarky comment to joshua when you interrupted him.

“hannie p-please who fucking cares i need you to fuck me please please please!” you were on the brink of tears. so desperate for him, to feel his cock deep inside you again.

“oh someone’s needy hm? good girl asking so nicely.” his voice something carnal. he took barely two seconds to line himself up with your soaked, swollen, reddened and abused core.

you didn’t think he was holding back before but holy shit were you wrong. his hands were basically imbedded into your waist. his hips snapping with even more determination and vigor than before. it took no more than 20 seconds for him to get that knot forming in your tummy again.

“is this what you wanted, you fucking whore? such a whore for my cock aren’t you.” he growled. “tell me baby, has anyone ever fucked you this good?” he whined out, his own orgasm approaching.

you must’ve taken a millisecond too long to answer him because he harshly smacked your ass making you cry out in pain (in a good way of course). “answer me.”

“yes!” your voice coming out in a mix of whimpers and pure air. “no one c-can f-fuck… fuck me like you do hannie!”

“not even josh over here?”

your eyes had been shut since jeonghan started fucking you again… you forgot josh was in the room. when you opened them you were met with the sight of him shamelessly palming himself through his sweats. “especially not josh,” you managed to spit out rather clearly. it was a somewhat mean statement but the mother fucker was getting off to watching jeonghan literally prove that he can fuck you better than josh ever could’ve, so why not humiliate him a little more?

sure enough, josh groaned out in pleasure. sick.

“that’s fucking right.” jeonghan managed to pull out, flip you onto your back, and start fucking you again so fast you got dizzy. the new angle allowing him to hit a new spot, one that was bringing you closer to the edge, much faster than before.

“mmmmffff h-hannieee~” was all you could manage to get out, but he knew exactly what it meant.

“gonna make a mess all over my cock baby? hm? gonna show josh what a fucking idiot he is?” he whined once again. he moved his hand down and began rubbing circles on your clit, bringing you to your breaking point.

you turned into an illiterate wreck. somewhere laced in your desperate noises were traces of jeonghan’s name. you physically couldn’t bring yourself to unscrew your eyes to look at him. you knew he loved it when you made eye contact whenever you came undone for him, but you just couldn’t. you suddenly felt a soft hand gently grab your neck.

“i fucking love your face, y/n,” he whispered as his hips started to stutter. you managed to open your eyes to look at him right before he started to come undone himself, you still coming down from your own state of euphoria. when your eyes locked, he immediately crashed his lips into yours, his hand on your neck tightening as his hips thrusted into you one last time. you couldn’t help but clench around him when you felt his warm seed fill you up. his mouth fell open letting out a feral noise as you two lay forehead to forehead, jeonghan slowly moving himself in and out of you letting you milk his cock for all it’s worth. his hand that was around your neck moved up to cup your face instead, wiping your tears that you didn’t even realize had fallen from your eyes during all of… that.

“josh?” jeonghan’s voice was low, and he never broke eye contact with you. “get out.”

you heard josh shuffle out of the room shutting the door behind him. it was nice for it to just be the two of you again… not that you didn’t enjoy the game you two just played.

jeonghan’s eyes were piercing into yours with something different than you’d ever seen. it was a content look which you were used to but…

“i-“ he paused, scanning your eyes to see if he should even say such a foolish thing.

“you what, jeonghan?” you said delicately, running your fingers through your hair.

“i love you, y/n.” he whispered. he sunk his head down to the rook of your neck as if to hide. it was the most precious thing you’ve ever seen this boy do.

“jeonghan…” you shifted to grab his face and bring it back up to look at you. “i love you too.”

how were you two sharing the most soft, comforting moment with each other right after having sex that you felt would have the devil himself appalled?

“really?” his eyes lit up, a smile growing on his face. he showered every inch of your face in kisses as you giggled through every second of it. once he finally stopped you nodded silently with a soft smile plastered across your face.

most normal people in such a situation would be asking all sorts of questions, but you didn’t care to. you knew you guys would talk about it at the right time for both of you, that time just wasn’t now.

-

“BREAKFAST!!” mingyu yelled from the kitchen. you were barely managing to open your eyes as you heard footsteps running down the hall. for these men being well past their teenage years, you always found yourself thinking of them as boys. always so cheerful and full of energy, even first thing in the morning.

once you “came to” if you will, you realized you were being spooned by the boy that confessed his love for you last night… or early this morning. the moment he ripped you away from the table you’d lost track of all time.

you both were naked but you felt clean. you vaguely remember in your post-fucked-out state, that jeonghan had carried you to the bathroom with him to shower.

“hannie,” you spoke just above a whisper.

“hmmmmmm,” he groaned, pulling you closer to him.

“gyu just said breakfast is ready and.. i’m hungry.”

“i don’t blame you.” you could hear the smile on his face even tho your back was turned to him. his morning voice was husky, the sound of it immediately going to your core, but you were too hungry to do anything about it.

“shutup,” you giggled. “let’s get dressed.”

“ugggggh okay fine, fine.”

he let you slip out of his arms to sit on the edge of his bed before… attempting to get up. your legs were so physically weak, you couldn’t bring yourself to stand. in that moment you knew jeonghan was watching you because he bursted out laughing.

“oh i’m so sorry,” he sighed once he finished his laughing session.

“for laughing at the fact that i can’t stand? or for being the fucking reason that i can’t stand?” you jokingly scolded.

“both,” he shrugged with a smug smirk on his face before getting up and grabbing two pairs of briefs from his drawer, one for you and one for him. he put on a pair, then threw a baggy t-shirt on and called it good. “i hope you’re okay twinning with me,” he teased as he got on his knees to slide the underwear he grabbed for you onto your legs. once he got to your thighs you took over.

“i don’t mind in the slightest,” you gave him a cheeky smile. he shifted closer to you on his knees so he was between your legs, then gave you a tender kiss before he spoke again.

“good. now what shirt of mine do you want to wear, princess?”

you looked up at the ceiling, cartoonishly thinking even though you both knew what shirt you wanted to wear.

“maybe that really really baggy sweater with that ‘message of’ whatever on it?”

he gave you another kiss with a smile before moving to his closet. “message of ames it is, pretty girl.”

once he helped you put the sweatshirt on, you still sitting on the bed, he kneeled backwards in front of you so you could hop on his back.

“we were taking bets on if you two were gonna come down,” minghao deadpanned from the table, taking a bite of one of mingyu’s pancakes.

“the princess was hungry.” you lightly hit him upside the head before he carefully set you down right next to the chair he just pulled out for you. once you sat, he pushed you in.

minghao smiled at you. he spoke up once jeonghan walked into the kitchen to fetch your plates. “i’m glad he treats someone nicely.”

you two giggled together. “and i’m glad it’s me.”

“oh… something happened last night.” he paused with his forkful of hash browns in front of his face. “well, beside the obvious.”

your face grew hot. “ha, yeah you wouldn’t believe.”

“can’t wait to hear about it,” he whispered, then shoveling the hash browns into his mouth.

“hey,” jeonghan blurted setting your plate down in front of you. “you guys, where’s josh?” he asked casually as he sat with his own plate as if what happened last night just simply… didn’t happen. you could imagine he was hesitant to face you both.

but then…

“y/n! jeonghan!” josh yelled from his room. “what the fuck are these?!”

you and jeonghan slowly turned to look at each other, both wearing the words “oh fuck” on your faces without muttering a word. jeonghan shot out of his chair and ran up the stairs to save both of your asses.

you turned to your food, silently poking at a piece of your scrambled eggs. minghao leaned in close, so you turned to him. “what did he find?” he whispered.

as if on cue, mingyu ran over from the kitchen to lean his head in. you leaned close to the boys so you knew any lingering ears wouldn’t hear. “jeonghan threw my underwear in his room,” you whispered back.

minghao bursted out laughing, mingyu stood up dumbfounded. exaggerated shock displayed on his face. anyone else in the room who was trying to mind their own business was now staring.

“you guys are too fucking much,” minghao sighed while holding a smile on his face. mingyu silently kissed you on the top of your head before walking back into the kitchen.

“you have no idea,” you smiled back, taking a bite of your best friend’s homemade pancakes.

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱‧₊˚

tag list: (i tagged everyone who reblogged the teaser) @jenoslutie @goblynnrockz @iluvhoshi @shinaely @squishysquishjimin @sana-is-ms-rmty @wonusfavgf @httpjeia @chanichanvhan @133456789000000000000 @4shypotato @meowwiie @lethia-killua @asyre @jeonghnie @starcandybby

[anantaru]

⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ i like the way you kiss me, i can tell you miss me

synopsis. ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ your ex boyfriend childe recently found out that you've been seeing another guy lately. // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡

cw. jealous! childe, rough & needy, exes missing each other but not admitting it, hinted at a previous toxic relationship between you two, fem! reader ♡

"did he touch you like this?" childe mumbles against your ear as his hand slowly slid over your curves, touching your body.

the impact this brazen question had on you made your body shudder in embarrassment, not only that but you could feel your own blood being forced to frenziedly race through your shape with every new drag of his cock dashing ripples of glee into you.

he knows what he's doing, he's planned this.

the harbinger knows everything apparently, or perhaps he's actually made up an entire different story to what he thought happened on your date.

he cups your cheek and runs his thumb across your bottom lip reverently, "or was he rougher?" slower?" he taunts, and there's an instant jolt of pride up the harbinger's spine when he notices how you're embarrassingly averting his satisfied gaze.

he hasn't lost his grip on you yet, he's sure of it, and he welcomed that you're so easy to read, to the point where you'd choke on a cry consistently, more so when he rushed through that one spot he would never forget to stimulate.

"w-why does it matter?" your words come out quicker than your mind could've properly processed them as you whimper out wetly to him.

you quirk up a brow, feeling a tender hold of confidence aid your frame, "aah— it's not like we're dating anymore or anything,"

that breathy, almost belittling laugh that tumbled over your parted mouth reached his heart, fracturing his vitality.

"we're broken up, ajax, please," you shuffle your arms around his neck before abruptly pulling him towards you, so your lips could brush against his ear shell as you whisper seductively;

"i can fuck whoever i want,"

tilting his head, instead of falling for it, childe confidently cocks a brow before planting a wet kiss on your cheek, "huh? archons, what a mouth you got on yourself," as he spreads, burns and dominates your glistening walls until he's certain you're where he needed you to be— vulnerable to him, perhaps even admitting the truth and stopping your bratty mouth to spill anymore wrongs.

"come on, will you? come on," he laughs manically, his hips jerking hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs as your breasts bounce in tandem with his ruthless thrust, "don't pretend like he'll ever catch up to me, fuck— baby..." he grinds deeper, watching how a nasty ring of white covers the majority of his base.

you roll your eyes but know he's right— because no one could ever unlock the love you've had for ajax before you two had broken up. those rough hands of his were your everything, in comparison to how he used them against his enemies, towards you, he wielded them lightly.

you squeeze and squeeze him, practically telling him that yes, you've missed him so much but no, you're not willing to ever get in a relationship with him again. for that, you've put in too much work already to forget about ajax, the man you loved so unconditionally.

"doesn't matter," your voice echos like a soft whimper as you hug him, desperately wanting to feel how all his inches were painfully throbbing while squeezed by your walls, "we. don't. work." concurrently to his sultry rolls, you pant out a crushing reality.

childe didn't want to hear that, not now, not ever again.

he pushes inside and groans out hot against your ear, before forcing himself to move his hips slower, despite the expanded lust inside of him wanting to slam right into you, fuck— the harbinger was aggravated, frustrated and saddened at the same time. not because of you, yet due to the fact that primarily, it was his fault that things ended on how they did.

a candid confession should never find its way inside of a situation this unrepeatable, "i love you," he whines, his cock plunging with passion as if to emphasize his spelled out words.

your mouth opens instantly for a rebuttal as he swiftly runs a hand down your breasts, pinching your nipples, desperate to swallow up your mewls and keep them stored within him.

foreheads pressed against each other, no words said out loud.

childe regrets everything right now, because you are just his everything, his all.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[honeekyuu]

talk too much. [suna rintarou x reader]

ten. ruin

previous || masterlist || next

a/n. uhm....... yeah.

warnings: swearing, phone sex

✗ !!! minors do not interact !!! ✗

✗ !!! ignore timestamps !!! ✗

“No you didn’t-”

“I did!” Suna laughs on the other end, and you giggle into your cup in response, brain fuzzy and warm. “I walked into a room full of fourth years and pulled out my canvas and when I looked up— boom. Naked ass man, dick in my face-”

“Stop!” you wheeze, shaking your head. “How the hell did you not realize-”

“I was nervous! I was so nervous to be there that I didn’t even realize I was in the wrong fucking room.”

“Did you leave?!”

“No! Of course I fucking didn’t!” You hear two sharp thuds on the other end and know just by the sound that Suna’s pounding his fist on the table. “I tunnel-visioned my way into a nude modeling class as a first year — you really think I had the courage to get up and leave after that?” 

You take a long sip of your mixed drink, leaning back against the arm of your couch and sighing deep after you swallow. “So? Then what happened?”

“Uh – I missed syllabus day of Art as Identity and drew a charcoal recreation of some random guy’s penis. Komori has it framed in his kitchen. It’s a talking point for guests and friends alike.” 

“I can’t believe you’re this much of an introvert,” you say, shaking your head with a giddy grin. “You’re so loud with me-”

“Okay, go ahead and add salt to the wound-” he barks sarcastically, snickering when you break into laughter. 

“You’re funny, Suna,” you say openly after a minute, sighing into the admission. “More people should know how funny you are.” 

“Just you’s enough, I think — and maybe your friends, just so they like me,” he responds, quiet filling the space between you for a moment. You chew on your lip while you think.

“What’d you think of them?” you whisper after a moment. “My friends.”

“Your friends?” he repeats, confusion seeping into his voice. “I mean, I always thought Suga was a weird dude, but he’s overall pretty chill and funny. Especially with Alisa – they fight a lot, don’t they?”

You smile fondly. “She likes to make him angry. He’s really easy to rile up.”

“Yeah, I could tell. They seem like good friends. I feel like I got to know you better by meeting them.”

You sigh quietly, the question burned into your mind starting to feel like guilt. You shouldn’t ask, because the truth is that your friends are the perfect friends. They’re both perfect, and you don’t know where you’d be without them. And you’re not in the habit of comparing yourself to your best friend, because you know she’d kill you for doing that.

But still, the question lingers.

“And… Alisa?” you ask, feeling the terrible guilt burn in your throat like bile. “What’d you think of her?” 

You can hear the wheels turning in Suna’s head, the silence on his end growing haunting as the seconds tick by.

“I think she’s beautiful,” he says, and – through the horrible, disappointed swooping in your gut – you realize that him being this honest even when he can tell what’s bothering you only makes you trust him more. He knows what you’re looking for, and he makes no move to sugarcoat his thoughts for you. Your respect for him grows. “But me acknowledging that she’s beautiful and me having feelings for you can both be true. Can’t they?”

You shut your eyes, sighing. You feel like an idiot. “Yes.”

“Just because your best friend is beautiful, that doesn’t mean you’re not.”

“I know.”

“I can think she’s beautiful and also think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen-”

“Oh, my God,” you laugh, embarrassed. “I get it, Suna. It was a stupid question.”

“Yeah, it was,” he says, and you can hear his smile. “Promise not to do it again?”

“No,” you mutter. He laughs.

“Okay. I can live with that.” You feel the conversation end there, and, despite the embarrassment, you feel glad that you asked. “I was thinking about something a minute ago actually,” he says, interrupting your thought. “You call me by my last name.” 

You quirk an eyebrow, the previous conversation forgotten, and purse your lips. “Is it not your name?” 

“Yeah, but…” He swallows audibly and then laughs to himself. “Your friends also call me Suna.”

You warm, seeing where this is going. “Would you rather me call you Rintarou?” His name feels foreign in your mouth, as if your tongue is just as nervous as you are, but you kind of like the taste of it.

His name feels important.

The other end of the line goes completely silent, long enough that you pull your phone away from your face to check that the call’s still connected. 

“Shit,” he breathes finally. “I dunno anymore. I was gonna suggest it, but I dunno if I can handle that, Y/n.”

Your name sounds important on his tongue, too.

Your chest starts to flutter with nerves, but the alcohol wants you to push it. “What about Rin?” It tastes intimate and presumptuous, that cut of his name from three syllables to one. You want him to taste it, too.

“Christ,” he laughs. “God, Y/n. You tryna kill me? You sent your friends to wound me critically and now this?”

“I think I like that one, actually,” you breathe. “Rin.”

“Stop it,” he laughs weakly.

“Rin.” You roll it around in your mouth, sinking deeper into your couch while you consider it.

“Cut it out,” he whispers, soft and breathy.

“Rinnie.” You like the way your lips wrap around it. You like the space it takes up and the way your voice cradles it, round and warm.

“Y/n.” His voice isn’t round and warm. It’s sharp. Thick with warning. Dragging your own name down your back like the back of a blade, leaving your skin pebbled with goosebumps and the base of your spine tugging at a knot under your navel dangerously. “Cut it out.”

You shiver and press your thighs together. “Okay,” you breathe, a soft whine coating the sound. The alcohol wants you to push your luck, and it’s so wonderfully easy to listen. “Sorry, Rinnie.”

“Shit,” he groans quietly. “Don’t do this to me, Y/n. Please.”

“Do what?”

“You know exactly fucking what.”

Your stomach flips at his tone, and there’s a pulse of desire between your thighs that has you biting down hard on your bottom lip. Your head is warm and staticky and desperately likes the sound of Suna’s voice, especially when he talks to you like that. 

“So?” you whisper, the courage there but incredibly small and entirely driven the liquor in your cup. “Are you hard?” 

Suna’s exhale is sharp, surprised. “W-What?” 

“You said over text.” Your face burns, but the idea of Suna Rintarou getting turned on by a combination of your voice and the way you say his name has you pushing out of your comfort zone. You want him too much. “That if I called you, you’d get hard. Are you?” 

He breathes hard for a beat, the sound shaky. And then he whispers, the sound soft and right in your ear in the most delicious way. 

“You know I am, pretty girl.” 

“How long?”

“Since you said my name.”

You shiver, pressing your thighs together hard. The flip of your nerves, low in your gut, is sharpened and heightened by the buzz of vodka in your veins, and you gasp quietly, trying to bring your heart rate back to normal.

“You should do something about that,” you whisper, skin vibrating when you do. You’d never be this confident sober.

He whines in response.

Suna Rintarou whines in your ear, desperate and impossible to deny. 

You feel your body become addicted to a man you’ve never met. 

“‘re you sure?” he breathes. “I don’t wanna do anything that you don’t-“

“Want you to do it,” you whisper, pulse racing and legs damn near going numb from how nervous you are. “Wanna hear you touch yourself.”

“Fuck,” he says, sharp and laced with frustration. “Fuck, Y/n — how am I supposed to say no to that?”

“You’re not,” you try. “Unless you really don’t want t-“

“I do. Fuck, I do.” He sounds the most sober he’s sounded all night, direct and honest and making your heart feel like it’s going to rip out of your chest. “Will-I…” You hear him swallow. “Will you do it, too? Are you turned on?” 

Your heart jumps into your throat, hope and desire mixing dangerously with the vodka. “Yes.” 

“What’s that an answer to?” he laughs, weak and nervous. 

“Both.” 

“Fuck,” he groans. “Will you? Want you to feel good, too.”

“Really?” Your voice sounds insecure, even in your own ears. You still aren’t used to that — to him. 

“Yes,” he urges. “God, yes. I want to make you feel good so badly, baby.” He swallows. “Can I talk to you? Make you feel good like that?” Your shaky exhale must speak for you, because he just gives another weak laugh. “Yeah? Is that okay?”

You’ve never been so full of want that it makes you cry, but you’re pretty damn close at this singular moment in time. 

“Okay,” you say, voice wavering. Suna’s exhale on the other line is just as shaky. 

“Okay,” he whispers back. “Shit-Uhm. C-Can I have a picture, baby? If that’s okay?” 

You whine in protest, already embarrassed, but you can hear how nervous he is. How unused to this he is. That this is just as terrifying and embarrassing for him, that he’s putting himself out there for you. 

It would be rude not to reciprocate. 

You take a steeling breath and pull the phone away from your face, setting it on the coffee table and putting it on speakerphone. “I look kind of messy,” you say. You start to adjust your clothes, grimacing at the frumpy shirt and shorts you’re wearing.

“I like messy,” he says, and you laugh pathetically. 

“It’s not very sexy.” You pull your hair down and ruffle it to be as attractive as possible, and then you consider your shorts for a full two seconds before throwing caution to the wind and getting rid of them. They land on the floor with an audible fwip, and Suna’s silent on the other end.

“Please tell me you didn’t just take all your clothes off,” he breathes finally. “I don’t know if I’m in a state to emotionally handle that right now.” 

You giggle, face burning and heart pounding in your ears as you open your camera and angle it favorably. ”Not all my clothes.”

“Shit.” 

You cross one arm over your torso and use it to push your breasts up, watching them swell in the camera. A rush of heat burns at your ears and neck, and your lip wobbles while you take the picture. 

Lifting the phone close, you examine the photo. You can see all the flaws that you’ve always seen, and it makes you freeze with insecurity. Makes you want to delete it and back out.

But then you hear him, his quiet ‘baby?’ on the other end, and you remember who you’re talking to. 

You hope he won’t see all the flaws you do — but there’s a piece of you that knows he will see them, but not as flaws. Because that’s who he is. 

Breath held tight in your lungs, you send off the photo, and then your head starts to pound with anxiety. 

Will he like it? Will he think it’s awkward? Will he realize that maybe he thinks you’re pretty, but he’s not sexually attracted to you the way he thought he would be—

“Oh, holy shit-” Suna’s voice is tight, thick with an emotion that’s so clearly lust that even you can’t deny it. ”Holy shit, Y/n. You’re so fucking-” He cuts off, taking a shuddering breath. “Fuck, I might start drooling.” 

You laugh, the tension breaking a little. “You’re funny-”

“I’m not joking.” Your breath catches at the sharp snap of his voice — your heart lurches, and desire swirls violently in your gut, because Suna Rintarou’s voice is starting to do that to you. “I’m not fucking joking, Y/n — you’re the sexiest girl I’ve ever seen.” 

You blink, sinking low on the couch. “What?” 

“Fuck,” he groans. “Y/n, you turn me on so much. I’m so fucking-” He laughs. “God, it’s embarrassing.” 

Your fingers shake as you press the phone desperately to your ear. “You’re so fucking what?” you ask meekly, nervous but craving more with every second that passes. 

He laughs again, self-deprecating. “I’m so fucking hard right now. Because of you. Because of this one photo.”

Your free hand drops between your thighs before you can think too long about it. “And you haven’t done anything about it yet?” 

“Oh, my God,” he groans, and you can hear the want in his voice. The strain in his tone as he tries to keep himself in line. “God, I’m not gonna last. I’m not gonna last with you, Y/n.” 

The pads of your fingers press to your clothed clit when he says your name — important, full — and it makes your desire curl and snap. You moan quietly, pursing your lips together to stop the sound — just a moment too late. 

“Fuuuck-” he says, reacting immediately to your voice. You hear shuffling, and then a burning, brutal exhale of relief, and you know he’s touching himself. The low whine trapped in his throat tells you as much. Tells you how badly he’s trying to keep his head on straight for you.  

You don’t want him to do that. You want him as lost as you are.

So you shut your eyes and lean your head back and let the alcohol take control. Let the fuzzy static in your head grow louder, let the desire throbbing in your core grow stronger. Let the choked whine in Suna’s throat take over, pulling you that much closer to the edge.

“Rin,” you breathe, yielding control to your limbs and smothering all hesitation in favor of slipping your hand past the band of your underwear. When your fingers touch down to your core, cold fingertips to searing hot skin, you moan louder. Loud enough to be heard and not caring enough to stop it. “Fuck, Rin— Can I have a picture, too?” He groans on the other line, shaky and uneven, and you whine in response. “Please? It’s only fair…”

He doesn’t say a single word back — just gives a trembling breath when you beg — but your phone buzzes against your face a moment later.

He’s got his hand down his sweats, the outline of his cock clear and the outline of his hand wrapped around it even clearer. His face is flushed a deep, searing red, and his parted lips are swollen and pink, eyes hooded with desire as he looks up into the camera. 

He’s in bed. He’s in bed, drunk and touching himself while thinking about you — the you in the photo, the you on your couch, touching yourself while you think about him, too. 

“Christ,” you whisper, eyes flying across the screen while your fingers dip low and slip with terrible ease past your entrance — two fingers in, the stretch heavenly, when your eyes land on the outline of his cock. “I don’t know if I can take you, Rinnie.” 

His inhale is shocked and laced with a moan, and then he’s coming undone in your ear. 

“You can take it, baby. I know you can take me so well.”

“Oh, God,” you gasp, back arching off the couch and fingers curling hard against your walls. “You would make me-”

“Gonna make you take it,” he finishes in a voice so rough and broken that you know he’s stopped trying to keep control, too. “Wanna make you take it, wanna show you how good you are for me. How much you’re made for me-”

“Oh, my God, I’m-”

“Wanna make you come around me. Wanna make you fall apart on my cock, pretty girl.”

“Rin,” you squeak in warning, your gut curling hard with desire, tension so close to snapping. “Rinnie, I-”

“Want my name on your tongue when I come inside you.” His voice is pitching up, breath stuttering and syllables twisting short in his mouth. “Want my name in your mouth when I ruin you for anyone else.”

It’s only right, then, that you cry his name when your orgasm slams into you full-force, pulsing and crashing down over you without warning.

By the time you come back to yourself, your walls are twitching with aftershocks around your fingers, and your breath is loud and heavy in your ears. 

Suna’s own breath is shaky in your ears, too. He whispers your name, tired and drained but still full. Still important.

You might have ruined him for anyone else, too.

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 15

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

“Seems like you're declaring war on me,” Bucky said, his voice steady but his eyes narrowing slightly.

“Does it sound like that? Forgive me.” Steve set the golf club down, a smirk playing on his lips. “What I meant is, we have to be aware of everything. We're this close to winning.”

“I agree.” Bucky replied, his expression calm, though his mind churned with unspoken thoughts.

“This is why I trust you.” Steve clapped him on the shoulder. “Remember, we're playing in the highest league now.”

Steve paused before adding casually, “By the way, my son wants to visit Nate. Is that okay with you?”

“I'll let my wife and Nate know,” Bucky responded, his voice neutral, though he felt a flicker of unease.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

When Bucky got home, he saw you sitting cross-legged on the floor with Nate, working on a puzzle together. You both seemed relaxed, unaware of the weight he carried from the conversation with Steve. He walked over, his movements deliberate, and knelt beside Nate.

“Nate, buddy, can you go to your room for a bit? I need to talk to your aunt,” Bucky said gently, placing a hand on Nate’s shoulder.

Nate, always obedient, nodded. “Okay, Uncle Bucky,” he said before scooping up a few puzzle pieces and heading inside.

Once it was just the two of you, you glanced at Bucky and noticed his exhausted expression. He looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“What? Did something worse just hit you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Bucky took a breath, his jaw tightening. “Did you just involve Ian?” His tone was calm, but his eyes betrayed his frustration.

You widened your eyes, momentarily caught off guard by the question. That single look was enough for him to sigh deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I…” His hands clenched into fists momentarily. He wanted to be angry, knowing full well this would put you on Steve’s radar.

“Just… tell Ian to slow down,” Bucky muttered, clearly uneasy.

“I can’t,” you said softly but firmly. “The way Ian works is far more efficient than anything I could do.”

Bucky rubbed his temples, his frustration mounting. “Then I hope God protects him.”

“Bucky…” you stepped closer, your voice serious. “Be honest with me. Is he in danger?”

Bucky looked down, his hands braced on the counter, his shoulders tense. “Steve just gave me a warning. It won’t matter to him if there’s blood on his hands.”

Your heart dropped. ‘Fuck,’ you thought as panic began to bubble inside. You immediately grabbed your phone and dialed Ian, but there was no answer. Frustration and fear mingled in your chest as you quickly texted him instead: Be careful. Eyes and ears everywhere.

You glanced at Bucky, your stomach twisting. “By the way, the Rogers twins want to come here to play with Nate,” Bucky added as if it were a casual comment, though his voice carried an edge.

“You allowed that?” you asked, the disbelief evident in your tone.

The mention of the twins unsettled you. Your mind flashed back to watching The Shining in secret with Tim, and how the twins in that movie had always given you the creeps. That eerie feeling wasn’t just from the film anymore—it was rooted in real life. You had learned the truth: William and Charles, Steve's sons, had a reputation for bullying other students. The thought of them around Nate made your skin crawl.

Would they be a good influence on Nate? You highly doubted it.

Bucky gave a tired shrug. “I can’t say no to the future president, right?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, knowing there was little you could do to stop it. But one thing was clear—you would be keeping a very close eye on them when they came to visit.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The twins arrived at the house, their faces lit up with matching grins, excitement practically radiating off them. Nate, catching sight of them, bolted to the door, his small body bouncing with joy.

"William! Charles!" Nate called out, bouncing on his toes as he welcomed them in. His innocent joy was palpable—he was simply happy to have people he knew coming to play with him.

"Hey, buddy," William said, ruffling Nate’s hair as they walked inside.

After a brief exchange, they settled in front of the game console, and soon, the twins had chosen a violent shooter game. The screen flickered with gunfire and explosions, the sound effects jarring in the otherwise quiet room. Nate, seated between them, initially watched in awe but quickly became uncomfortable.

His tiny hands shot up to cover his eyes, and he flinched with every loud noise, his body tense as he pressed himself into the couch. He covered his ears, trying to block out the unsettling sounds, but he didn’t say a word, not wanting to ruin the moment.

You watched from a distance, trying not to be the nosy adult. You wanted to give them space, but seeing Nate’s frightened reaction twisted something in your gut. Likewise, you couldn’t stand by anymore. Walking over to the boys, you kept your tone polite, but firm.

“Guys,” you said, your voice cutting through the sounds of the game, “is there another game that’s not as scary? Look, Nate’s getting scared.”

William glanced down at Nate, who was huddled close to him. “Oh, why didn’t you say something, buddy?” he said, patting Nate’s shoulder as if that would fix everything.

Charles sighed and turned off the violent game, switching to something more child-friendly. "Here, we’ve got a game for you, Nate." He scrolled through the options and selected a bright, colorful one with cartoon rabbits running a restaurant.

The second the screen changed, Nate’s face lit up. “Wow!” he exclaimed, his fear dissolving as he leaned forward, eager to play. The teenage boys, now seemingly patient, guided him through the simple controls, explaining how to serve food to the cartoon animals. You felt a wave of relief. Maybe—just maybe—the twins weren’t as bad as you had feared.

Later, the boys decided to go swimming. You sat on a poolside chair, keeping a close eye on Nate. He was wearing a floatie around his small frame, happily splashing in the shallow end while William and Charles horsed around further away.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed. It was Ian. "H...ell...o"

You stood up, checking the signal, which was terrible. Frowning, you moved toward the balcony. The pool was indoors, so you stepped outside, hoping for better reception.

“I just got your text,” Ian said when the call finally connected. His voice was rough, but you could hear his smirk through the line. “You know this isn’t going to stop me.”

“I’m serious, Ian,” you replied, leaning against the balcony rail. “Bucky told me directly. You’re in danger.”

A pause, and then Ian’s voice, low and almost teasing, came through. “Hmm… Guess where I am right now?”

You sighed, trying to play along. “London? Since you went home, right?”

“Nope. Paris. And I’ve found something—something lethal enough to kill Steve,” Ian said, his tone dark with implication.

Paris? You froze. Was this related to Hazel? Your heart pounded with a new surge of anxiety. “Ian, don’t—”

But before you could finish, you heard it. A splash—loud, frantic. You turned around, the blood draining from your face. In the water, you saw a small hand desperately reaching out, the floatie floating uselessly nearby. It was Nate.

Panic gripped you like a vice. “Nate!” you screamed, dropping your phone as you sprinted back inside.

Without hesitation, you dove into the pool, your body hitting the cold water like a shock to your system. Your hands reached for him, pulling Nate’s tiny, trembling body to the surface. His arms latched around your neck in a vice grip, coughing and sputtering as you lifted him from the water.

He gasped, burying his face against your shoulder, his small body shaking as he clung to you. “He…he can’t swim!” you snapped at the twins, your voice filled with raw anger.

William and Charles stood there on the edge of the pool, unfazed. “That’s why we were teaching him,” they answered in unison, their tone almost dismissive.

Nate let out a pained cough, his voice weak. “My nose hurts…” he whimpered, rubbing his face against your neck.

Your heart ached at the sight of him, vulnerable and hurt. Anger surged through you like a tidal wave, and you glared at the twins. You remembered that they both just watched while Nate was drowning. Without raising your voice, you pointed to the door, your finger shaking with fury. “Get out. Now.”

The command echoed in the room, sharp and unforgiving. William and Charles flinched, startled by the intensity in your voice. Without a word, they quickly grabbed their things, shooting one last glance at each other before rushing out the door.

You stayed in the pool, holding Nate close, your teeth gritted in anger and your heart still pounding. You knew then—those boys were never going to be allowed near Nate again. Not after this.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The twins walked into the Roger household, their shoulders slumped, clearly sensing the storm waiting for them. Behind them, Peggy followed with a stern but composed expression. As they stepped further into the room, the tension was palpable—Steve stood there, arms crossed, his face hard as stone. He had heard everything from you, and his sons could feel his fury even before he said a word.

William and Charles instinctively moved closer to Peggy, seeking the safety of her presence as if she could shield them from the inevitable.

Peggy, sensing the mounting tension, stepped forward slightly, her voice calm but firm. “Steve, calm down. I will talk to them.”

Steve let out a frustrated sigh, his clenched jaw releasing only slightly. “I’m not going to yell,” he said through gritted teeth. “But I need to say something.”

He fixed his cold gaze on his sons. “Both of you will be homeschooled from now on.”

The twins’ faces fell in disbelief. “Dad, no!” William blurted, and Charles’ mouth hung open, too stunned to speak.

“I know,” Steve said, his voice quieter now, but there was no softness in it. “I know the main reason for your behavior is because your mother and I have been too busy for you. We never spent time together as a family.” His arms unfolded, and to their surprise, he pulled them into a hug. “So, homeschooling is the best option, isn’t it?” His tone sounded almost tender, but underneath it lay a cold warning.

William and Charles glanced at each other, then back at Peggy, silently pleading for her to intervene. But she didn’t. She stood still, her lips pressed tightly together, offering no rescue.

“Good children don’t question their parents,” Steve said, his voice dropping low. “You just say, ‘Yes, father.’”

The twins swallowed hard, a sinking feeling settling in their chests. “Yes, father,” they muttered in unison, their voices barely above a whisper. It felt as though their every move would now be monitored.

Steve’s lips curled into a smile, but it wasn’t warm—it was the smile of a man in control. “Good. Now, go back to your rooms.”

The boys moved quietly, retreating upstairs, the weight of Steve’s words heavy on their shoulders.

Once they were out of sight, Steve’s smile faded. He turned toward Peggy, his tone biting. “This is why I never wanted to send them to boarding school in the first place. They needed parental guidance, not strict school rules.”

Peggy’s eyes narrowed, a tired look crossing her face. “Don’t start again, Steve. That decision was made by my father.”

Steve’s expression darkened at the mention of her father. His voice dripped with bitterness. “Oh yeah, him. I almost forgot. I’m glad he’s dead.”

Peggy’s face tensed, a flare of anger sparking in her eyes. “When will you stop badmouthing my father?”

Steve’s cold stare met hers. “Never.”

Steve had lived a life bound by duty, his role in the military shaping every part of him. He was a good soldier—respected, disciplined, and obedient. But despite his loyalty, promotions came slowly. His lack of a powerful family background meant he was always overlooked by those with better connections. Essentially, Steve was an orphan—without anyone to vouch for him, he was left behind.

He knew how the system worked. If you didn’t have the right name, the right family, there was always a price to pay. And Steve had paid it, doing the dirty work of his superiors without question, sacrificing his principles just to keep his place. The worst part of it all was that his commanding officer, General Carter, was his father-in-law.

Every step of his career, Steve had been a puppet for the man who held both his professional and personal life in his hands. The weight of it bore down on him every day.

“Good soldiers don’t ask why,” General Carter always said this to him. “They just say, ‘Yes, sir.’”

"Yes, sir." Steve answer it like he's a robot.

At some point, Steve had everything he’d ever thought he wanted—marriage, a steady career, money, and status. On paper, he should have been happy. But he wasn’t. His life felt dull, empty, like the spark had been drained from it.

The day he realized the truth hit him like a punch in the gut. He wasn’t his own man—he was nothing more than a tool for his father-in-law, a puppet dancing to someone else’s tune.

That was the moment he had enough. The frustration, the years of silently obeying, simmered into anger. He wanted to be the one in control. He was tired of taking orders—he wanted to be the one giving them.

Steve’s life had been dull for years, a constant routine of military duties, politics, and the weight of expectations. Until the day he met Hazel. She was much younger than him—vibrant, full of life—and he was supposed to give her advice, to help steer her back home. Julius and Caroline had asked him to help their daughter stop running away. But when Steve sat with Hazel and listened to her story, something shifted. Her reasons for running, the pressures she felt—her life mirrored his own struggles. For the first time in years, he felt empathy.

He told her, quietly, “If you ever need someone to talk to, you can find me.”

And from there, things changed. They grew closer, and eventually, more intimate. He knew it was wrong—cheating on his family, betraying his friends—but for the first time, Steve felt alive again. The numbness of his life vanished in her presence, replaced by something that burned, something real. And then came Nate, the baby born out of that connection, out of a love he hadn’t felt in years.

Steve’s thoughts snapped back to the present. His jaw clenched tightly as he faced Peggy. “Did you tell them to hurt Nate?”

Peggy stood her ground, her face a mix of frustration and cold calculation. “No,” she said flatly. “But they’re smart enough to figure out why their father cares so much about that kid, and why he’s always…” She hesitated, her lips curling into a thin smile. “Spending time with his little girlfriend. Maybe they’re just releasing their anger.”

Steve’s fists tightened until his knuckles turned white. “When I get into the White House, you won’t be coming with me.”

Peggy’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t flinch. “And what then?” she said with a mocking tilt to her voice. “You think you’re going to put that girl in my place? Have you forgotten who you are? You were a beggar, crawling to my father for help.”

Steve’s eyes darkened, a dangerous calm settling over him. “And this beggar has crawled his way to victory,” he said slowly, his voice low but filled with menace. “You can act high and mighty because of me. Don’t forget that I can take it all away from you.” He stepped closer, his words laced with venom. “Remember how your family got their business permits? How they were saved from corruption charges and tax evasion? That was because of me.”

Peggy let out a scoff, her eyes filled with disdain. “You think you’re a king now?” She crossed her arms, shaking her head. “I actually pity her, you know. Because one day, she’ll feel exactly what I felt. You’ll never be satisfied, Steve. You’ll never have enough.”

She turned to leave, her hand on the door. Before stepping out, Peggy glanced back at him, her eyes filled with cold certainty. “Never.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

You sat beside Nate, your heart heavy as you watched his small chest rise and fall, his face flushed with fever. The doctor had just left, handing you a bottle of medicine. "Make sure he drinks this, and let him rest completely," he’d said before exchanging a few quiet words with Bucky and leaving the apartment.

Nate’s red, feverish face made your heart ache. He had been through so much in just a few hours. You gently wiped a damp cloth over his forehead as Bucky sat beside you, silent and tense.

"Never, ever let Nate be alone with them again," you said, your voice firm.

Bucky nodded, his expression serious. "I agree. And I’m sorry. I never thought they’d pull something like that."

“Don’t underestimate underage kids,” you warned, your voice sharp. “There are so many cases where perpetrators can’t be jailed because they’re underage.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened. "Noted. I won’t forget that."

A brief silence passed, then you asked, “Have you called Hazel?”

“I tried, but I couldn’t reach her. I called her assistant, though.”

You nodded, your mind still spinning. The memory of Nate sinking beneath the water haunted you, but there was something else gnawing at you—you hadn’t finished your conversation with Ian.

Excusing yourself, you left the room and grabbed your phone, your stomach dropping when you noticed the cracked screen from when you’d dropped it before diving into the pool.

You dialed Ian’s number, your fingers trembling as you pressed it to your ear. The first ring echoed, unanswered. Your heart pounded faster. The second ring—nothing. A cold sense of unease crept into your chest. Why wasn’t he answering?

On the third try, the ringing stopped abruptly, and you exhaled in relief. “Hello? Ian?” you asked quickly, your voice tight with worry.

There was a pause on the other end, then a voice you didn’t expect—familiar, but not Ian’s.

“Y/N?”

You froze, confusion flooding your mind. “Hazel? Why are you answering Ian’s phone?” Panic started to rise inside you, the pieces beginning to fall into place. Ian had gone to Paris. He had found something—something connected to Hazel and Steve.

“He… he can’t answer it,” Hazel whispered, her voice breaking.

Your breath caught in your throat, a chill racing down your spine. “Why?” The word came out in a shaky breath.

There was a long silence before Hazel finally spoke, her words hitting you like a sledgehammer.

“Because he’s dead.”

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[landitolover]

𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒈𝒐, in which charles isn’t the best boyfriend.. ౨ৎ charles x famous!reader

warnings- toxic charles, cheating, reader is love-dumb… !

y/n 💋

charles what the fuck

tell me it isn’t true??

who is she

cha 🤍

baby it isn’t true

i swear, i love you

she came onto me

y/n 💋

are you sure

cha 🤍

yes, my love

i promise you

y/n 💋

come over?

cha 🤍

i’ll be there in ten

Liked by charles_leclerc, alexademie, maxverstappen1, and 1,092,299 others

yourusername 🤍.

tagged charles_leclerc

View all 6,209 comments

user oh this man has no shame at all 💀

user yn…. 🌝

user girl pls run as fast as u can

user no queen you’re too good for him 😭😭😭😭

user yncharles nation how do we feel

→ user uhm TERRIBLE

→ user poor girl ☹️

→ user nah she definitely knows.

charles_leclerc mon coeur 🩶.

→ user …..

→ user he gave me the eww…

alexademie gorgeous 🤍

→ alexademie he’s there too ig…

→ yourusername 🫶🏻 ily

landonorris 🤨🤨

→ user even lando confused 😭

→ user bro keep charles in line

→ alex_albon me too lando…

lilymhe my girl 🤍🤍

→ yourusername 👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻

maxverstappen1 pretty :)

→ yourusername thank you

→ user SHOOT YO SHOT MAX!!

→ user mr steal your girl 🙏🏼 save her

lilyrose_depp 😍😍

landito

yn are you okay

y/n

uh, yeah? why

alexander albon.

be so fr

charles???

y/n

oh

it was nothing, she came onto him

he loves me guys

landito

whatever you say, yn..

alexander albon.

stay safe queen!

Liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, lilymhe, alexademie and 1,249,298 others

yourusername paris

tagged charles_leclerc

View all 6,292 comments

user this is so sad seeing how much she loves him

→ user fr and he’s out there cheating ????

user babe he hasn’t posted u in months why are you still posting him!!! 😭😭

user u are better than this queen 😪

user OPEN UR EYES BITCH

user she’s so strong

→ user not strong enough to leave him :///

landonorris sooo cute 😃

→ user i can hear the sarcasm

→ user LMFAOO

alex_albon yeah stay away from paris…

→ user SPEAK UR TRUTH KING

charles_leclerc ❤️

y/n 💋

chaaa, do you wanna come over?

cha 🤍

I can’t

sorry, chérie.

i’m out with friends

y/n 💋

nono it’s fine

have fun!

i love you ❤️

Read 20:22

Liked by alex_albon, lilymhe, charles_leclerc, landonorris and 1,293,293 others

yourusername time away!! with my favorites 🫶🏻

tagged lilymhe, alex_albon

View all 4,199 comments

user break up with your bf now xx

user too pretty for him

user 🙏🏼 a weekend without ch*rles

landonorris glad to see it!

→ yourusername 😃

lilymhe IT WAS SO FUN HANGING WITH U ❤️

→ yourusername 🤍🤍 love you sm

alex_albon i look gross in that pic

→ georgerussell63 nothing new mate

charles_leclerc so pretty mon amore

→ user the audacity this man has

→ user 🤺🤺🤺

Liked by lilymhe, alex_albon, landonorris, and 29 others

yourprivate when he’s making out with yet another girl 😂! idk what happened because i tried giving him my all 😂😂

View all 8 comments

lilymhe leave him please

→ yourprivate 😂😂 I can’t

lilymhe i don’t want u to be even more sad ☹️

alex_albon FUCK MEN!!!!

landonorris yn u are better than this

→ yourprivate am i though…

georgerussell63 he don’t know what to do with allat!!

→ lilymhe fr!! yn is too good for his ass

y/n 💋

what’s her name.

cha 🤍

what?

y/n 💋

her name

the girl you were kissing, charles

cha 🤍

baby

i was drunk

y/n 💋

don’t ‘baby’ me

and you WERENT drunk charles

what did i do wrong?

cha 🤍

nothing i swear

y/n 💋

I must’ve done something wrong

if you cheated on me TWICE

you probably cheated more than that.

cha 🤍

fine then, i just got bored of you

is that what you wanted to hear?

that i just stopped loving you?

because that’s what happened.

y/n 💋

fuck you charles

i knew I shouldn’t have dated you

I should’ve listened to everyone who told me to leave you.

cha 🤍

you should’ve 🤷

but you didn’t

You have blocked this contact

yourusername • 1 hour ago

maxverstappen1 replied to your story

maxverstappen1

hey, sorry about the break up

charles never deserved you though.

Seen just now

౨ৎ some crazy shit forreal 😭😭🙏🏼🙏🏼 now me personally i could never take charles back (why am i lying)… okay anyways i hope you enjoyed this 🐨🐌🤍

requested by my wife @landovilla ily 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 ౨ৎ

[diaryofaprettyprincess]

(simon is originally like 6'4-6'5 but i made him about 6'10 for this hehe)

(size difference part 1)

older!ghost x inexperienced!reader where there is a big size/height difference between the two of you. you two have been dating for five months already and more than anything you both want to have sex with each other but ghost is hesitant.

one night you two were indulging in a heavy makeout session. you were seated in his lap, his scent hugging your body like his big arms wrapping around you as he pawed at u. tongues licking and and mouths sucking at each other. u felt warm n mushy on the inside, ur core throbbing as u pressed down onto his clothed, hard cock that made you shiver. if you were to look at yourself in the mirror your hair would be messy from simon's large hands running through your locks, lips kiss-bruised and hickeys littering your neck.

you kiss him before pulling away, blushing at the way the older man tries to follow your lips with his before he opens his eyes, running his strong, tattooed hands along your back then the sides of your torso.

"s-simon?" you squeak out, your small hands gently gripping onto his biceps.

simon gently kisses your lips, a small grunt sounding from his when you move forward on his erection accidentally. "yes?"

his deep, gruff voice makes you tremble with want.

your back arches a bit as he moves you even closer to him on his lap, giving you a slow, sloppy kiss as you whine softly.

"i-i--" you have a difficult time finding your words as simon squeezes your hips then smooths over the slight sting with his palm. he kisses you again, humming in acknowledgement. butterflies swarm your whole entire body--all the way to your fingertips.

he was so...big. you needed him so badly. you could feel your cunt sopping and thrumming with desire.

"'m ready.." you whisper against his lips.

"ready for...?" he asks, kissing from your lips to the corner of ur mouth down to your neck before suckingly firmly. you weave your manicured fingers through his soft hair as he sucks, his arms wrapped around your lower back bringing you closer to him as you whimper.

you swallow, biting your lower lip--eyebrows pinched upwards as ur brain gets more fuzzy. simon kisses his way back up to your lips, ur hips subtely dragging slowly on his meaty thighs and lap.

"w-want u.." u blush. you felt so flustered talking about wanting to have sex with him. or wanting to have sex in general. it took six weeks for you to feel comfortable making out with him. not because you were afraid of him, but because you had never done anything like that with anyone before.

"baby.." he kisses the corner of your mouth gently before pulling away from your lips a bit. his voice is soft and so sweet, your body feeling warmer. his left hand combs through your hair. "haven't even got ya prepared, yet.." u lean forward, pressing your lips to his before pulling away slightly.

"what do ya mean?" you ask, confusion lacing your features.

simon can tell he's gonna need to spell it out for you in order for you to get what he's saying.

"well, it's just that," he thinks for a second, running his thumb against the fat of your lower lip. "y'know, 'm a lot bigger than you.."

you blush.

your height difference was something you fucking loved. he was about 6'10 and you were..well, no where near that.

you lace your fingers with his, watching how his hand dwarfs yours completely. you kiss his knuckle gently.

"'s okay if you don't wanna do it with me.." your words are sad, and far, far, far from the truth.

he's been fantansizing about fucking you since he met you. the way he would make you feel better than anyone else has ever made you feel. he wanted to treat you right. fuck you until you saw stars, the moon, and everything above.

"aw, princess.." he kisses you again. "y'know that's not true..wanna be with you.. wanna be inside ya so fucking badly," his words make you feel hot. "just that, well, you're the smallest 've ever been with..don't wanna hurt ya."

you slowly kiss him, ur body trembling slightly. "don't care if you hurt me, j-just want you, please.."

the only thing you two had done was kiss and dry hump until you got too embarrassed to finish (simon didn't have that problem).

simon chuckles against your lips, moving so your below him on the bed. "well, i care, sweet girl..want you to feel good," he thinks for a moment, and you kitten lick his lips before massaging your tongues together. "maybe we could do somethin' else for right now if you're okay with it. get you ready.." he kisses from your mouth down to your neck, sucking. he shifts his position a bit. your thighs open a bit automatically.

he raises your shirt from your belly right before leaving small, soft, kisses on your skin. you giggle rubbing your right, sock-cladded calf along the side of his body bashfully. simon smiles, his hands running along the sides of your torso.

"want me to eat this pretty pussy? been thinkin' about tastin' you since i saw ya."

his blunt words and deep drawl make your bottom lip find its way sucked into your mouth right before you gently chew on it.

"hm?" he asks again, dragging your shirt up and off your body, leaving you in a cute pink bra, your thigh high socks on along with your navy blue pleated skirt and matching pink underwear with a tiny bow at the top.

you nod, grabbing a hold of your pink stuffed rabbit ghost bought for you one day when you were sad.

"y-yes please.."

"yeah?" he smirks a bit, and you can feel how your whole body buzzes with want.

you've never wanted someone more. your brain goes numb.

simon sees how you tug onto your bra, trying to almost rip it off. he can see the way your mind so badly wants to shut off.

"'s okay, love, i gotcha.." he lifts your back up a bit, snapping your bra off as your tits fall out, nipples hard and aching to be touched.

simon was normally an ass man, but god, he loved the way you trembled when he ran his fingers over your pert nipples, rubbing his thumbs on them as you whine and whimper.

"p-pretty please, si, need you.." your voice was soft, eyes closed as u practically drooled onto your stuffie.

"always so good," he murmurs, dragging your skirt down. his eyes fall to the big wet patch on your panties as you whine. he runs his thumb over it before getting too greedy and dragging them down your legs, discarding them on the ground.

fuck, you look so beautiful.

"gonna fuck this pretty cunt one day, sweetie..jus' gotta getcha ready, mk?"

you nod, watching the way simon's back and shoulders flex as he blows a small gust of air from his lips onto your fat button.

you whine loudly, your hips twitching.

"shh.." he shushes, kissing the insides of your thighs.

he plants a small kiss on your cunt, and you whine again.

"behave, princess..gotta take my time. been dreamin' about this."

his eyes pool with a dark shadow of lust as he slowly licks his way from the bottom of your wet cunt up to your clit, circling his tongue as you moan softly.

his hands make their way up to your breasts as they tug and pull on your pebbled nipples, your mouth dropping open as you feel overwhelmed with want.

you gently hump against his mouth as he fucks his tongue into you, squirming a bit as he opens your thighs wider, his right hand petting your socked knee.

he takes your stuffie from your hands, rubbing your nipples with its fur as he suckles on your clit, slobbering onto your cunt, your wetness dripping onto his bed.

lewd, wet sounds fill the air as your cunt pounds-- small gasps bouncing off of the walls as your moans get higher and more needy. simon's mouth harshly sucking on your engorged button, grappeling at your tits before you suddenly gush into his mouth, rubbing against his face as you cry, coming down as your boyfriend drinks down your nectar.

your brain is all mushy, all you can think about is what he's gonna do next..right before simon's arms engulf your body as he kisses you gently, sleep taking you under.

[hayatoseyepatch]

𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖗𝖎𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓: Karasu thought you needed to stop spending so much time online, especially after you let your doom-scrolling lead you to ask him to fuck you in a Ghostface mask. But hey, what was he if not an accommodating partner, he did so love it when you screamed. 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗: Tabito Karasu (Blue Lock) 𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 2k 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘: Fem!Reader x Karasu. SMUT. 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: Hunter/prey dynamics, mask kink, degradation, praise, penetrative sex, spanking, mentions of slut/whore, choking, dacryphilia.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: This is one of my two submissions for the "No, You Hang Up" Ghostface server collab that I'm hosting with our other server owner @rindous-starlight for our server! This was so much fun to do and thanks to everyone who voted on my poll a little while ago to help me select the characters! I hope you enjoy, the full masterlist for my kinktober can be found here.

“You want me to do what?”

The laughter following your boyfriend’s statement makes your cheeks flush, almost embarrassed for asking. However, truth be told there was just something about the idea of Karasu chasing you, his identity “concealed” before fucking you in the woods behind your home. In the moment you had, shrugged it off as a joke, that you hadn’t been serious upon your boyfriend’s reaction. However, he knew better than that, knowing just how serious you had been. And if Karasu was honest with himself he couldn’t deny the way his cock throbbed at the idea. He just needed to find the perfect time to execute his plan.

You had been alone that night, Karasu having told you he was too tired to drive back from practice and he’d be crashing at Hiori’s. So why was it that you had gotten a notification that there was movement in your back ring camera? Brushing it off as the stray cats you and Karasu fed, grabbing a bowl of food and taking it outside, only for the door to slam shut behind you. Panicking, in nothing more than your house slippers and one of Karasu’s jerseys, you try the doorknob. Locked. Sighing, at least you both kept a key hidden by the front door, before you could go anywhere you felt a hand curl around your throat. Ice flooded your veins as a muffled voice met your ear.

“Don’t you know never to come to the door when you’re all alone pretty little dove.”

The grip on you was lose, allowing you to easily break free. Adrenaline surging, your feet carrying you before your brain could catch up, fight or flight kicking in. Making your second mistake of the evening, you ran into the woods that bled into the back of your shared home. Running through the wooded area as fast as your feet would carry you, dodging between trees as you tried to put as much distance between you and the mysterious figure as possible. Once you were sure you had done just that, you pressed your back against a tree, concealed from sight as you caught your breath. Hand over your mouth to muffle your shaky breaths as to not draw attention to yourself. However, it seemed there hadn’t been enough distance, watching as the figure walked past the tree you were hiding behind, mask concealing his face as his voice rang out once more.

“Haven't you ever watched a scary movie, dove? Don’t you know you never run into the woods?”

The voice carried through the night, but now that your heart wasn’t racing in your ears from fear, you quickly recognized the voice. Karasu? Your heart now raced for a different reason, realizing he had set you up. Telling you a lie earlier to catch you off guard, to make this feel more real. Karasu was nothing if not thorough, putting his all into all he did, this was no different it seemed. You werent sure if your relief outweighed your fear anymore though. Karasu was a professional athlete, body honed after years of training. And one thing you knew for certain from watching his games was that he was fast. Incredibly so. Which meant the chances of out running him were slim to none. But that wouldn’t stop you from trying.

Your feet slam against the ground as you ran in the opposite direction of his footsteps. Karasu’s ears perked immediately, the sound of branches snapping under your feet alerting him to your location. He was quick to turn on his heel, long strides having him caught up to your form within moments. Large hands reaching out to grip your hips, pulling you flush against him, knowing if it weren't for the mask you would feel his breaths on the back of your neck.

“Gotcha, sweetheart.”

He purrs, hands roaming your body, one settling around your throat while the other pushed the hem of his jersey up past your hips. He groans upon realizing you were in nothing but a cute pair of panties underneath, taking advantage of your state of undress as he slides his fingers past the waistband of your panties. His eyes rolling back in his head upon being met with your drenched cunt, sliding two fingers past your entrance with ease from the sheer amount of slick that seeped from your opening.

“God.” He groaned, dragging out the word, fingers delving deeper into your cunt. “You're fucking drenched. You this wet from being fucking chased by a stranger? God you're such a good little slut for me, baby.” He slid his fingers from your walls, the pads of his fingers circling your clit, relishing in the delicious sounds he pulls from you. Eventually he pulls away fully, swiping a foot under your own sending you to the ground below. You squeal form your loss of balance, just managing to catch yourself on your hands and knees. Karasu was quick to drop to his own, a strong hand finding purchase on your back, forcing your back to arch and expose your ass to him. He tosses up the hem of his jersey, hooking two fingers in your panties to tug them to the side. You let out a shiver as the cold autumn air hits your now exposed cunt. Karasu lands a harsh slap to your ass, followed by three more in quick succession, using your distraction from the sting as a means to lower the sweatpants from his hips. His cock springs free from the material, slamming the entirety of his length past your velvety walls with ease due to just how wet you were for him.

“God, princess you’re sucking me in like such a good fucking slut.”

He groans, his setting a steady pace, a thumb parting your folds so he can watch his cock disappear inside you with every pass of his hips. With one hand he grabbed you by your arms crossing them using them as handlebars to pull you back on his cock, only to bounce you back with every harsh thrust. He picks up speed, allowing you to hear all the filthy noises he was making while pounding into you with abandon. He let out a strangled groan, your velvety walls suffocating his cock as he fucked you. He wasn’t sure if it was the remnants of adrenaline from you earlier chase or if he was just so into the way this scenario allowed for him to use you completely in a way he never had, but he could feel himself losing control. Releasing the grip he had on your arms, he lets his hand come down on your ass once more, taking pleasure in knowing your skin would darken from the blood rushing to the impacted area.

“God, dove, so fucking good.” He droned, gripping the flesh of your ass to force you back on him. “This fucken pussy drives me insane, tryin’ to fucken milk me for all I’m worth, isn’t that right my pretty little dove.”

He continues his assault, missing the feel of your skin under his mouth but god if you were this wet from him fucking you with a mask on, who was he to complain? He never knew he would be so into it, but he’d be lying if he said this wasn’t the hottest sex the two of you had ever had. Karasu’s hand wrapped around your neck, bringing you flush against his chest as he fucked up into your cunt. Karasu’s much larger frame always made it so easy for him to manhandle you into whatever position he pleased. He kept with his brutal pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the woods. Groaning, the feeling of your slick against his thighs as your cunt gushed for him was sure to drive him mad.

“God kitten, you feel how fucking wet you are? So wet over getting fucked by someone whose face you can't even see.” He groans, laughing sadistically, the sound being muffled by the mask that still covered his face. “What a good girl you are, doing so well for me. Such a good fucken kitten”

He used his free hand that wasn't wrapped around your neck to reach around to rub harsh slow circles into your clit. The movement of his fingers in time with the thrusting of his hips. Your eyes rolled back in your head, the rough terrain of the ground below digging into your knees adding a delicious mix of pain into the pleasure you were receiving, making your head fuzzy. After a few moments of his ruthless attack on your poor cunt, he slowed his movements to a halt, grinning beneath the mask at the delicious whine it pulled from deep within your throat. He kept his movements slow, dragging his cock in and out of your cunt slowly, allowing you to feel every inch and vein of his dick. His movements were so incredibly frustrating just enough to keep you on the edge of what you needed most. Eventually, his movements stopped altogether, pulling out of your cunt, rewarded with a desperate whimper from you. At this rate he didn’t even need to ask, begs and pleas falling from your lips in a desperate scramble, needing so badly for him to make you cum.

“Please Tabito.. please, wanna come, please.. I don't care baby just need to come all over your cock, need to feel you come inside my cunt want you to breed my pussy Tabito.”

Your pleas were like music to his ears, pulling a groan from him. You felt the world shift, him easily manhandling you to lay on your back beneath him. “I wanna see that beautiful face, when you cream all over my cock, dove. I want to see every face you make while I fuck you baby. I want watch you go dumb on my cock like the slut you are. Wanna watch you come undone on my cock.

He growled, your tear-stained cheeks and completely fucked expression had him wasting no time slipping back into the drenched walls of your pussy. He ripped the mask off with one hand, throwing it god knows where as his hips resumed their abuse on your cunt. Two large hands found the backs of your knees, forcing them to your chest so his cock could reach even deeper inside of you. Your cries muffled as he finally kisses you, tongue invading your mouth instantly. The kiss is desperate, filled with need, his thrusts were getting sloppy, letting you know it wasn’t just you who was reaching the precipice of orgasm. Karasu gripped at the plush of your thighs, being sure to hit every single nerve and spot inside your cunt. He could feel the clenching, the want, the desperate need for you to come all over his cock.

He attacked your neck, leaving kisses and bites along the surface area of your exposed skin. He lets out a breathy chuckle, seeing the way you had thrown your head back, making a sad attempt to meet his thrusts with your own hips. You sob, moaning almost embarrassingly loud as he hits every spot, angling his hips just right in the ways only he knows how to. His ministrations finally being enough to throw you over the edge. He feels your thighs clamp shut over his hips, body violently shaking with cries as you came. Walls clamping down on him in a vice grip, eventually hurtling him towards his own release. So lost in pleasure as he paints your walls white in his cum, he is barely aware of the added moisture from you having squirted all over him. He slows his hips, riding out your highs until the point of overstimulation, a shudder wracking his spine as he stills. His head dropping into your neck as he catches his breaths, a breathy laugh leaving him.

“Who knew all it would take for you to do that was to chase your horny ass through the woods, little bird.”

𝕯𝖎𝖛𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖇𝖞 @/𝖈𝖆𝖋𝖊𝖐𝖎𝖙𝖘𝖚𝖓𝖊 & @/𝖘𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖉𝖎𝖐𝖆-𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖕𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖘.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @littleplantfreak @maruflix @umemiaa @stunies @eevees-hobbies @143-ilyuu @uzxotic @princesstiti14 (𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖋𝖊𝖊𝖑 𝖋𝖗𝖊𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙/𝖉𝖒/𝖆𝖘𝖐 𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊 𝖆𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖔𝖗 𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖞 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖎𝖈𝖘) (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

[gilverrwrites]

Hi friend!

Would you be interested in doing a NSFW alphabet for Bruce? Just read your black mask one and damn heheh

Bruce Wayne: NSFW Alphabet

AN: Thank your so much, glad you enjoyed! And yes I would be interested.

As always readers; please take whatever you vibe with and leave what you don’t. It’s all in good fun.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

It really depends on your existing relationship, and its level of intimacy.

A hook-up is getting the bare minimum to keep his image where he wants it to be. He’ll help you get clean, offer you his bathroom, and if he can, he’ll help you redress and get you out asap. If you decide to stay, he’ll be cordial; he’ll do the pillow talk, let you wear his shirt, make sure you’re fed and watered or whatever but he won’t hold you, and he won’t be there when you wake up. He will however leave a note with some half-truth about having to leave for business, and money/gift cards for a coffee and an Uber.

If you’re more than that (dating/married/so on) then it depends on how well you’ve voiced your needs to him, and how much time he has. Let’s be real Bruce is a hypocrite, he wants you to tell him in explicit detail how you need to be cared for, and if you don’t he’s profiling you until he gets it right, but he ain’t saying anything about himself.

So provided he doesn’t have to run off to save the day, or your escapades haven’t coincided with a routine patrol, Bruce is excellent at aftercare.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Him: Bruce is highly critical of himself. He’s not blind, he knows he’s physically fit, widely intelligent, and highly attractive, but there’s also always room for improvement.

But if he had to choose, it would be his brain. He enjoys being able to look at you and knowing in an instant that you want him. Knowing if it’s a right here right now, or a tease me till I’m begging kind of want. Knowing exactly what you need to hear or where you need to be touched. Being able to predict and acclimatise to your desires is such a big thing for him.

As for you: It’s all in your eyes. You may or may not think you’re quite stony-faced, but not to Bruce. He just loves how expressive your eyes are. Yes, when he’s analysing you; looking for those dilated pupils and heavy lids. But also just the delight when he surprises you with sneaky kisses, when the skin around them grows crinkly as he growls something totally scandalous, or how they grow wide and doe-like as he’s stretching you out, or when they twitch and roll when he’s fucking you just right.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s not particularly vocal about it unless he’s really lost in the heat of the moment but; breeding kink. He wants his cum buried as deep inside of you as your body will allow. He wants you so full it’s spilling out and leaking down your thighs, soaking into the bedsheets. And then he’s gonna scoop all those stray drops up and push it all right back in.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

At his age, he doesn’t really get the terms that people use in sex nowadays. That information wasn’t easily obtained in his prime but if he had to identify with something he’d claim soft/dom and/or a brat-tamer, and he’d be right.

But sometimes he likes to switch roles.

He’d never admit it, because he’s a goddamn control freak, he considers (his own) submission as weak and at best he’d be a power bottom but damn it’s so comforting and so hot to be at your mercy or just taken care of sometimes.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Ooh ho ho. Brucie has been around many blocks, and back again.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

I have no explanation for this, I just feel it in my bones but he’s so into doggy. Especially when it’s a hook-up and/or a quickie. By extension, the flatiron because it offers that really deep penetration that has him cumming right against your cervix.

Also the eagle and the leg lock/missionary, specifically with a pillow under your hips and one of his hands pushing on your stomach so that he can keep you in place as he punishes your g spot.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Very rarely goofy, at least not until he’s at a level of familiarity and intimacy that would allow him to let those walls down. He’s not without a sense of humour, it helps if you’re goofy first.

Blow a raspberry on him, and he’s pinning you down and giving you 10 back. Give him a ridiculous nickname and he’ll start testing new ones out on you. “Ohh Brucie boo boo, that feels so good.” “You like it when I bend you over and fuck you like this honey bunny?”

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It’s thick and dark, but well-trimmed. In his younger years, he waxes off his happy trail and chest hair, but from his mid-late 30s, he starts letting it grow.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

This again is widely dependent on your relationship.

If you’re a hook-up it’s just about fun really. It’s sensual, borderline pornographic but ultimately impersonal.

But if you’re more than that, then sex is very intimate for him, and he’s surprisingly passionate.

He struggles with voicing his emotions so this is how he shows you his appreciation for all that you do. It’s how he apologises for being gone so much, for making you worry. Your body is where he takes out his frustrations but also where finds respite and comfort.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Not something he particularly enjoys, but it is a necessity. He’d rather the real thing, but if that’s not accessible when he needs to let off some steam then so be it.

There have been many, long frustrating nights that have ended with him beating it in front of the batcomputer, unable to focus, and wishing it were you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

As previously mentioned, breeding kink. (See c for cum)

Bondage: I’m specifically talking about him being the rope bunny here. Nothing extreme, soft ropes holding his wrists to a chair or a bed frame while you grind on him. Yes he could break out at any minute, but he doesn’t, that’s part of the submission, the fun.

This can be flipped, he’ll tie you up if that’s what you want but he prefers to pin you down with nothing but his own strength and body weight.

Roleplay/primal play: His interest in the whole cat and mouse (or bat and cat) has never been subtle really. He likes being the predator, catching the prey and taking his reward. Ties in closely with the brat taming too if you’re a fighter or mouther.

Extending on prev, I think he’d also like interrogation play: again both ways but primarily he likes to be the interrogator. To hold you down, tease, and question about whatever subject matter, probably what you want to have done with you, until you beg him to make good on all your confessions.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

He’s boring in this regard; the bed. It’s a comfortable, safe environment where he can let loose.

If you wanted to do it in the cave or the Batmobile he’d comply, but explicitly when off duty with low risk.

But if it was up to him, he’d keep you all locked up in his chambers, squirming in his sheets, eyes rolling back to look at his ceiling. It’s like he’s claiming you, inside and out, full and scented by him and his bedsheets.

Maybe, with the certainty that nobody will be home, he’ll find other places to fuck you; the marble stairs, the hot tub, in front of the fireplace.

But be prepared for the unmitigated guilt and humiliation of traumatising at least one of his kids when they inevitably stop by unannounced.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He often comes home in the early hours of the morning still full of adrenaline and looking for relief.

Outside of that, he’s highly receptive to teasing and shameless levels of flirting. Clothing too; he likes skimpy, short skirts low cut tops but that’s not always necessary. Just knowing you’ve got nothing on under that flowy outfit, or that he bought you those shoes, or that’s his button-up will do it for him.

And then there’s domesticity. When you bring him food during a long and intense research session. Seeing you be really good with Damian, or helping Cass with her ballet hair, or scheduling dinner for the two of you with Babs and Dick.

Just you clicking so perfectly into his life, predicting and meeting his needs without being asked, makes him want to show you just how much he appreciates it.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

If you want to call him daddy that’s fine, he can be your baby daddy, but you are not his baby.

You can be his baby momma though. He wants to fuck a child into you, not fuck a child, even in a fantasy capacity.

If he wanted a child he’d be adopting you, not sleeping with you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

50/50

He rarely gives oral when hooking up, because he’s a fucking beast at it. Wet and sloppy, just going to town, which affords him a lot of women wanting to ride again. But in that same vein, he doesn’t expect these people to give him anything. If they’re gasping for it, he’ll oblige but otherwise, he just avoids the whole oral thing.

But when it’s his love, there’s no stopping him from spending an afternoon worshipping those perfect hot, wet folds. Drinking you up until your fluids are dripping down his neck, until his scalp aches from your grip and you’re seeing stars.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It varies of course but preferentially 70/30 rough/sensual with a lot of crossover.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

As mentioned in J for Jack-off, if he needs to release some tension quickly, and you’re available then he’ll take you. Bend you over the nearest surface, bruising you with his vice grip, no sound but for his grunting and the salacious slap of your skin against his until he’s got everything out of his system and can get back to the job at hand.

But otherwise, he’d rather take his time with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

If you’re an adrenaline junkie, then sure he’ll take risks for you.

That said, the risks he takes are calculated, and he is good at maths. He won’t bore you with the statistics, just know that he’ll always find a way to give you what you want.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

No average human can keep up with Bruce Wayne’s stamina, let’s be real. But that’s okay, when you’re all spend and cock drunk and too weak to move, he’ll make sure you don’t miss out on anything. He’s strong and fit enough to do all the work for the both of you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Holy utility belts Batman!

For all his gadgets and tech, I want to say he has sex toys galore but honestly I really don’t think he does.

He probably has the classics: retrains, cock ring, remote control vibe, plug, dildo and/or strap.

And some more out there things: electro collars/low impact tasers, clamps, a swing.

Heaven knows he can afford anything and everything. But beyond that, I don’t think he reaches for them often, nor does he seek out or experiment with new ones. Not unless something sparks it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Are you kidding? The moment he sees his opportunity he’s laying the teasing on thick. Sneaking touches when nobody is looking, speaking to you in that voice, calling you while you’re busy to tell in explicit detail what he’s been thinking about doing to you since he saw you in those pants this morning.

And when he finally gets you alone, he’s 100x worse.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

Noisy but not loud. He has such a low, deep voice. So when he groans and coos in your ear it’s certainly clamorous to you. All the filthy things he says bellows.

But nobody outside the room you’re in will hear him, not unless he wants to be heard anyway.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

With time and experimentation, Bruce knows what turns you on better than you do. Kinks you’ve never thought of. Subtle touches you barely notice, getting just close enough for you to smell his natural musk. He moves his body in precise ways, and uses really specific words that have your mind racing.

He’ll play you like a fiddle and have you thinking it was your idea.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s packing, and we all know I don’t mean guns.

And that's when it’s soft and in the cold. At full glory, I’d say at least 8 inches, above average girth. Cut, with some very prominent veins.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Fair to moderate, adrenaline heightens the senses and emotions and can be an aphrodisiac which is where a lot of his drive comes from.

But removing that from the equation, he’s trained himself not to think about you or anything that turns him on when he needs to focus. So when he gets to relax or when he sees you again, all that pent-up denial comes running back to him.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It really depends on his mindset. More often than not, by the time post-climax hits, after an already long night, he’s out like a light the moment you’ve signalled that you don’t need him any more. Sometimes sooner.

But if something’s on his mind, a series of clues that aren’t adding up, a villain that shouldn’t have gotten away, when he’ll be up all night thinking about it. In this scenario, it’s not uncommon to find his side of the bed empty within an hour or two.

[comet-forgot-you]

walk with me here, college popular girl amber + quiet masc-ish reader who she takes an interest in. teasing and flirting and Ummmm maybe reader first kiss and first time with amber being super sweet and teaching reader how to touch her .. In the backseat of a car maybe. yeah i’m going insane

im also going insane thank you!!!!

smut. 18+ pls.

do not repost for any reason.

amber noticing you around campus, never able yo talk to you because she’s always with someone. she wants to talk to you so bad, you had her attention and you didnt even know it. it wasn’t until the second semester that she was able to finally talk to you. she saw you in her psych class, one free chair beside you and she took it despite the row in front of you being completely empty.

she wouldn’t know how to talk to you at first, secretly hoping you would talk to her first, but you don’t. you hardly look at her and it makes her so mad. two weeks into the semester and she finally talks to you.

“hey, i like your shirt.” of course she does, its a stab shirt. you glance down at it, forgetting what shirt you were wearing the moment the compliment falls from her lips.

“thank you,” you reply quietly, a faint blush creeping up on your cheeks.

“you’re cute,” she mumbles, turning her attention to the professor as he begins the lecture.

that cycle continues until amber finally gets your number, and then she’s sending you flirty texts, only to tease you about it later in class. then you surprise her when you make the first move, asking her out on a date.

she agrees almost immediately, saying something along the lines of “ive been waiting for you to ask.” it makes your cheeks heat up as you look away from her.

one date turns into another, the two of you are walking around a park in the middle of the night, asking each other questions. the two of you end up underneath a streetlight and amber stops walking, standing in front of you. she wraps her arms around your neck, head tilting slightly as she looks between your eyes and lips.

“have you ever kissed anyone?” your cheeks flush, you hadn’t, and you were slightly embarrassed about it. you consider lying to her, but something about the way she looks at you has you muttering out the truth.

“no.”

amber smiles, leaning in closer to you. “can i kiss you?” your hands find their place on her hips and you swallow thickly, nodding slightly. she smiles, leaning in to press a kiss against your lips.

her lips are soft, her arms tightening as she pulls you closer into her. your grip on her hips tighten slightly. she pulls away and you cant help but smile. the next day your asking her to be your girlfriend, and she teases you, “i thought i was gonna have to ask.”

weeks later, the two of you are driving around in her car, talking about anything and everything. she pulls into an empty parking lot, telling you how tired she was of driving. you offered to switch with her, but she’s quick to shut it down, you two dont have to drive around.

next thing you know shes leaning over the center console, kissing you like she needs you. and she does. she crawls into your lap, holding your face in her hands as she kisses you hungrily. “need you so bad,” she whispers against your lips. “do you know how hard it is seeing you look so good and having to keep myself from pouncing on you? i need you so bad, baby.” you swallow thickly at her confession.

“i don’t.. i’ve never..”

“i’ll teach you, promise.”

“what if im not good?”

“you’ll never know until your try.” you swallow thickly, amber takes your hand, massaging your palm with her thumb. “do you want to try?”

you nod, “yes,” its a weak answer, but its all amber needs before she’s guiding your hand to her clothed cunt. you cup it and amber rolls her hips against your hand.

she moves to undo her pants but you’re quick to shoo them away, wanting to do it on your own. you slip your hand into her underwear, feeling just how wet she was. you exhale shakily, “fuck.”

amber grabs your wrist, pushing your hand further into her pants. you spread her sticky folds, running your fingers through her wetness. amber hisses. you prod at her entrance and amber’s holding back a whimper that threatens to escape.

“use one at first,” she whispers. you do as she says, pushing one finger into her cunt. your movements are slow as you pump in and out of her. you curl your finger and amber lets out a moan. “another.” you sink another finger into her cunt, slowly pumping in and out of her. “good girl,” she whispers.

you shudder at the praise, you bury your head into her neck, nipping at the skin. her grip on your wrist tightens as your palm grazes her puffy clit. “faster.”

you pick up your pace, curling your fingers every few strokes, amber moans. “like that?” you whisper out, searching for her approval. amber hisses, bringing her bottom lip between her teeth.

“fuck,” she breathes out, “yeah, yes. just like that, baby.” she rolls her hips against your palm, giving her clit the much needed attention. “doing so good, fuck,” she moans out.

her walls squeeze your fingers, is that a good thing? you ignore it, picking your pace up slightly. the sudden change has amber moaning loudly, “fuck!” it takes you by surprise, you pull away from her neck to watch her every reaction. her bottom lip is taken between her lips, you bring your free hand up to tug it out of it’s confines.

her cheeks are flushed, her tongue darts across her lips to wet them. you curl your fingers and amber’s moaning again, head falling back slightly. “yeah, just like that, baby. don’t stop, please,” she begs, her orgasm so close.

when she cums, her head falls against your own, your hot breaths mixing with each other. “fuck, you sure that was your first time? you did so good, baby,” she mumbles, her hips still rolling against your palm.

“thank you,” you mumble out and amber laughs, your cheeks flushing.

“you’re welcome.”

[madamechrissy]

Dirty Little Secret

ꕥ Pairings: Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader

ꕥ Warnings-MDNI-explicit sexual content, dirty talk, Toji calls reader 'doll, ma, slut (Toji and Doll just work lol) Age gap- reader is 21, Toji is 39. - This chapter-rough sex, anal sex, whipping, daddy kink, breeding kink, squirting, face slapping, oral (fem receiving) FREAKY ass chap lmao, reader is a brat and Toji is a whole freak

ꕥ Word Count-this chap- 7k

ꕥ Summary- Toji Fushiguro is your dad Shiu's best friend for years. You've known him most your life. You come home for spring break to relax, and who pops up at the fucking doorstep? Toji. He's nasty, annoying, perverted and... Sexy. Hot. Built. And makes you think, maybe your first time shouldn't be with some college boy? But with this buff dude who can tie a cherry stem with his tongue and a scar on his damn lip.

Chapter 9 - Masterlist - Playlist

Chapter 10

The next day

You and Toji Fushiguro are going on a date, it feels so… insane to say that out loud, but here you are in Toji’s Mustang, and his big hand is on your thigh, bare with the pretty little black dress you’re wearing. Your fingertips brush up and down his knuckles gently, feeling the roughness of his skin, and he keeps sneaking glances at you, tongue running along that scar so sexy.

Fuck how are you so attracted to a damn scar? To everything about him, how he’s wearing this dress shirt, so different from his thin gym tees, and you see how it has to stretch over his broad chest. He’s so fucking sexy, you find yourself rocking your hips side to side, thighs shifting. He smirks at you, dark green eyes darting to your bare thighs as you make that motion.

“Excited, doll?” He asks, and you flush a bit, as his fingers brush up and down your thigh, making you tremble.

“You do look really handsome, Mr. Fushiguro.” He snorts at that, rolling his eyes then focusing back on the road.

“Making me sound old as fuck, brat.”

“Well…”

“I’ll beat that ass.”

“You’re not old, silly.” You lean close, pecking a kiss on his cheek, with a little bit of stubble tickling your lips, and he sighs then, as you rest your head on his shoulder, inhaling his scent, so manly and he’s wearing some cologne you really like. “I can’t believe we’re going on a date.”

“So surprised? I have a girlfriend I never see, and haven’t taken out.” You tense a bit then, hearing the clear pain in his voice, as you chew your lower lip.

“I don’t think you’ve called me your girlfriend before.”

“Yeah because I’d like you as a wife.”

“You can’t say shit like that!” You pull away, crossing your arms and looking out the window, trying to control your rapidly beating heart.

“What shit, the truth?” He counters, yanking you back to him.

“That’s insane talk. You know it.”

“You think I am sugar coating shit, who the fuck do you think I am? I’m not gonna whisper sweet shit I don't mean, doll.” You blink back emotions, sighing.

“It’s crazy, Toji. How would it work?”

“Go to college online and move in.”

“And my dad!?”

“He’ll get over it when he has a grandbaby.”

“Toji!” He’s scowling, his hands tightening on the wheel as you glare right at him. “Where is all this coming from?”

“Where’s it coming from?” He scoffs, pulling up to a pretty restaurant then, parking and looking at you with his dark brows low. He turns off the car and then bends over, cupping your face. “Did I not tell you I’m fucking in love with your bratty ass?”

“And I love you, but… isn’t this just…”

“Just what?” His words are short, as you look down, but he snatches you by your chin, squishing your cheeks. “Just what, some fun on breaks? I told ya that’s not what I’m wanting. I want you.”

“And I want you. But it’s fucking scary.” He sighs, brushing your hair back, before cupping your face, slamming his lips on yours, and you meet him, hungry for more, kissing more and more, desperate and breathless soon.

“Want you to stay with me. In my arms, got me sappy and shit.” You giggle a bit, blinking back emotions as he whispers those words.

“Toji who knew, you’re so sappy-”

“I will beat you later. Beat your ass black and blue.” You get excited if anything, earning his sexy glare, a big hand squeezing your hip over your little dress. “Keep acting up, no date, I’ll fuck you right here.”

“Fine, fine I’ll be good!”

“Mmhmm.”

Toji is opening your door, but before you all go in he’s pressing you on the car, big hand gripping your ass now, and you feel heat pool, desire in your core, like you can’t breathe. He’s looming over you so big and tall, and you can’t stop the little whine that escapes your throat, earning his lidded gaze and exhale.

“Better be good. I’ll fuck you right here.”

“You will not!”

“Wanna bet, doll?” He licks his lips and your hands slide up his chest now, head tilting back to look up at him.

“No, you’re fucking crazy, you just might.” Toji’s chuckling now, and then kisses you softly, sweeter than usual, intoxicating you with how multifaceted he is, as you peel back all his layers slowly. “Let’s go, I’m excited!”

“Come on, then.” He’s holding you by the waist, hand on the small of your back, as you both head to the pretty restaurant, it’s a steakhouse and much nicer than you’d expect from Toji. For some reason you figured some seedy little place or something, you’re impressed as he pulls out a chair for you.

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Fushiguro.” He scowls as he pushes your chair in, sitting all sexy and handsome across from you.

“You’re such a fucking brat. I’ll order you chicken nuggets, how about that kiddo?”

“Chicken nuggets!?”

“Mmm, so cheap too. Do we need crayons and shit-”

“Fuck you, old man!”

“Ahem… hello.” The waitress comes as you two stick your tongues out, and you cover your face, blushing as Toji chuckles, leaning back in his seat. You struggle to save face, kicking him under the table, and watching his knuckles go white as he’s clutching the little black table.

“Hello, he wants the kids meal-”

“Steak for me, kids meal for her-”

“You have to be twelve and under, I’m afraid.” She says seriously, and you and Toji burst into laughter, earning this girl’s confusion. You both struggle to hold in your laughter, getting more serious.

“Can I get a glass of white?” You ask, and she smiles then, nodding and tapping the tablet for your order.

“Can I see an ID?” You pull it out of your purse, showing her, and she then turns to Toji.

“Anything to drink, Sir?”

“Mmm, give me a beer.”

“Got it.”

“Card him too!” Now Toji is kicking at you, and you’re surely confusing this waitress.

“May I see your ID, Sir?” He rolls his green eyes, dark lashes fluttering, and you can’t stop the grin as he shows her the ID. “Very good, any appetizers?

Toji starts to order, and soon you and him are nibbling together, he’s handing you little bites of food, he is scooching your chair next to him, and you’re right next to him now, his big hand burning your skin. You bite your lip, snuggling to his shoulder and sipping your wine.

“Fuck this is nice.” You say softly, Toji hums at that, thumb brushing your inner thigh and making you overheated, as you look up at his eyes, dilated by the soft lights of the restaurant.

“It is nice, could be all the time if you’d live with me.”

“You know that’s-”

“Crazy. Ya keep saying that like we’re not crazy together period.” You sigh, running a fingertip along the glass then.

“That’s true. I mean, theoretically I can do journalism anywhere, it’s all from my computer mostly.”

“See, there you go. You can do that and clean my house-”

“Hell no.”

You both laugh again, as you roll your eyes, as his hand slips up more, taking your breath away. “You like that idea.”

“Shh, you’re so misogynistic.”

“And you eat it up.” He whispers, thumb brushing your already damp panties, you struggle not to cry out, as his touch makes you so needy.

“Maybe.” You admit, and he smirks, eyes lidded as he leans down, turning slightly to kiss your temple, but he’s now rubbing your achy clit in circles, and you bury your face against his neck, crying out your pleasure as quietly as you can. He exhales, kissing down to your ear.

“You’re my little slut, ain’t ya doll?” He cooes ever so quietly, and you just nod eagerly, there’s no sense acting otherwise, you’re letting him run his fingers under your lacy panties, letting the rough pad of his middle finger circle your clit, which twitches in response. Your nails dig into his strong arm, as you struggle to act normal. “Asked ya a question.”

“Yes, I am, Daddy.” You whisper back, and then he’s shoved a thick digit in your little entrance, and you bite your lip so hard it hurts, as you’re gushing around his finger, just barely inside you. “Oh my… fuck…”

“So easy, so wet already, just f’me, huh?” You just nod, then the waitress comes back with your food, and Toji eases back, sucking on his finger blatantly, making your mouth drop as he grins over at you. “Yummy. Looks yummy, yeah doll?”

“Um… uh huh.” Your hands shake as you shut your eyes for a moment, struggling to come to, the man ruins your brain.

Soon you all are digging in, as you try to cool down, then suddenly after about twenty minutes of laughing, of flirting, and of talking shit with the man you’re stupid in love with, a woman comes up to you. She saunters, so tall with blond hair, muscular and lean, swaying her hips in a gorgeous red dress.

“If it isn’t Toji fuckin Fushiguro.” She speaks all sultry, trailing a hand across Toji’s broad shoulder, over his starch business shirt, earning his glare.

“Sure is. Ya need something, Hana?” She scoffs then, leaning down, and Toji takes her hand off his shoulder, as she’s got her perky little breasts full on display, to the point you can see her nipples almost.

“A girl can’t say hi?”

“Nah, not when I’m with someone.”

“I see. And who’s this?” Her voice is purring, you outright scowl at the pretty woman, then glare at Toji, who’s covering his face and wiping down it with a tired expression.

“I’m his girlfriend.” You say then, and Toji smiles, scar stretching as his lips quirk up. She scoffs then, looking wildly at Toji.

“You, dating? Since fuckin when?”

“Yeah, so what’s it to you?” His voice is terse with her. She huffs a bit, crossing her arms and analyzing you.

“So, what, we fuck steadily for a year, and you go get some young little girl to date now? Don’t want someone your own age, Fushiguro?”

Toji scowls, his dark brows low over his eyes, jaw tense. “Not that at all, just didn’t wanna date you.”

She gasps and you can’t stop your laughter, even when you try to sober up, earning more of her ire. “She’s like a teenager!?”

“I’m twenty one. See.” You hold up your wine glass, as people are starting to look at you all.

“You’re interrupting our date. Go on now.” Toji waves a hand dismissively, earning more of her anger, as she then takes your glass of wine and splashes it right in your face. You gasp at that, standing up then, chest to chest, as Toji stands up, furious, scowling.

“Excuse me, bitch? I didn’t do shit to you.” You shove at her with open palms, making her nearly topple backwards.

“Why don’t you go back to school and get someone your own age?” She bites out those words, and you raise a brow.

“I’m gonna give you a minute to leave before I fuck you up.” You ball up fists then, and she turns, scoffing.

“Stupid little whore-”

Well, you gave her a chance, yeah?

You grab her by her hair then, knocking her on the floor, and now the entire restaurant is in shock, watching as you straddle her in your pretty black dress, and you hold your hand up. “Drink, Toji.”

He chuckles, handing you his beer, and you smirk as you pour the entire amber contents of the pint on her face, and she sputters under you, a whole sloppy fucking mess now. She’s clinging to her face as you stand, laughing maniacally as her makeup drips down her face in streaks, and she opens her eyes only to shut them again, screaming.

Toji is chuckling right with you now, as she shakes some of the liquid off, scowling at you. “How dare you!”

“You spilled one on me first, so.”

“Immature little kid.”

“Says you, the woman who comes and starts shit with a man that didn’t wanna date her? He’s mine, got it?” You snatch him up by his arm, as he looks to you practically with hearts in his damn eyes.

“Miss, we must ask you to leave.” The manager comes then, and she screeches, pointing at you and stomping.

“But she did this to me!”

“Yes everyone saw you approach and throw a drink at her. You need to pay your bill and leave.” She is dragged away, and Toji pulls you to him, tilting your chin, but you shove at him.

“I’m mad at you, too.” You hiss through your teeth, and he scoffs, gripping your shoulders tightly.

“Excuse me, brat? Lemme just find you sexy right now….”

“Nope. Check please.”

*****

You two are both outside now, screaming at each other as Toji carries your little take home bag, as you get in the car he throws it at your lap. You shove it back in the passenger seat now, as you feel the adrenaline pumping, sure you’re furious at that bitch, who’s now flipping you off on the sidewalk, but you’re also upset that this is what happens on your date.

Toji was a hoe.

“Put on your fuckin seatbelt, now brat.” He orders, snapping it then, and you unsnap it, just for him to snap it again, and you to unsnap it, smacking at his hand. “The fuck are you mad at me for!?”

“Is that what I’ll deal with!? Your hoe life all over.”

“Look, I didn’t ask her to be a bitch. Put on this fuckin seatbelt, or I swear you won’t be able to sit.” You take a shaky breath, as both of your chests heave, and the energy in the car is so intense you can’t take it.

“Fine!” You let him snap it as he starts the car with a shaky hand.

“Can’t take you anywhere, can I?”

“Me!? Me!?”

“Yeah you, causing a whole scene with that temper, angry little elf.”

“Elf!”

“Hard of hearing?”

“Fuck off! I’m mad because you clearly had something serious enough she’s bothering me. She said you fucked her for a year.”

“And, so what, now I fuck you, get over it.”

“Aw, romantic.”

Toji’s eyes narrow as they set on you, as you two sit at a red light in the quiet night. “Who’s on a date, you or her, brat!?

You laugh, shaking your head. “Fuck you Toji.”

His laugh is harsh. “Fuck me, fuck me?”

“Yep. Fuck you.”

“You’re mad at me for what?”

“Being a manwhore!”

Toji’s forearms, visible in the evening, those veins wrapping around them turn you on far too much, as he grips that steering wheel so tightly, and you struggle to remember why you’re mad. “You knew it when you fucked me. And guess what? I’m good at fucking the shit out of your little pussy ain’t I?”

His words hit hard, and you feel it, right in your core, that deep husky voice and nasty words. “Pfft. Maybe.”

“You really talking shit like that, doll?”

“Sure am. How many more women will I meet?”

“Probably a lot. What’s it matter, I am with you, annoying little bitch.”

“And you’re such a hoe.”

“Means I eat pussy like a champ.” You gasp, smacking his hand as he grips your thigh.

“You ate her out, that makes me mad. So mad. Should have punched her.” Toji laughs now, only serving to make him more attractive and make you more angry, an infuriating mix.

“Doll, you were a baby when I fucked most of these women, couldn’t even legally touch you!? What, you wanted me to be some virgin? My kid is your friend, clearly I’ve been fucking a long time.”

“Ugh, whatever. Fuck you.” You cross your arms as he pulls up to his home, and he’s at your door in a flash, dragging you and shutting it with a loud thud as he’s pulling you further. When he’s inside he’s shoving you against the front door, hands on either side of you, and you see his vein pulsing in his jaw at how angry he is.

“Fuck me, huh brat?” I think I’ll fuck that attitude outta ya.” He grabs your hair roughly now, pricking your eyes with tears, towering over you, and you find yourself strangely excited.

Is it strange?

Toji has always had this effect, when he’s mad at you and you get soaking wet, your cunt right now is just dripping, as you ache for him. You tilt your chin up then, narrowing your eyes, not remembering just why you were so mad at Toji, but now he’s got you on one.

“I have a right to be mad, old man.”

“No, you don’t, I clearly stopped everything since Spring break. I didn’t even look at anyone the whole time I was gone.” You blink back tears then, as he’s got his other hand gripping your waist so tight you can’t stand it, gripping the silk material of your dress, bunched in his hands.

“You really didn’t?” You whisper, and he sighs, lips just an inch away from yours now, and you can taste him, that taste that fucking kills you, as you both pant heavily, as he’s scowling at you.

“How could I see anyone but you, little fucking brat. You think I want anyone the fuck else?”

“She was all elegant, and pretty… and…” You’re sniffling now, as your insecurities hit you, and Toji sighs.

“Ain’t shit compared to you. Y’know how beautiful you fuckin are!? You know how sexy? How perfect your body is?” You tremble, as he turns you then, pressing you against the door face forward, unzipping your dress, baring your skin to his hungry gaze and his hot touch. “I’ll take you in a Hello Kitty bikini over any bitch.”

Fuck.

You’re being petty, stupid. You sigh, trying to calm down now, but he’s simultaneously putting you over the edge of how bad you want him. “T-Toji… M’sorry. I let it get to me. Am I just young, stupid!? I…” You gasp as he yanks your dress down, pulling it past your hips, and he moans softly, hands sliding down your every curve and line.

“You’re young, you’re stupid-”

You glare back at him. “Hey!”

He chuckles a bit. “But you’re beautiful. You’re mine. My little doll, don’t you fuckin know?” He kisses down your spine then, pressing hot trails of his lips as you step out of your dress, as he eases those heels off your feet.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you. You didn’t even know me…”

“I knew you, but you were barely twenty, off limits. Think I didn’t jack off to you then?”

“I’m dumb, fuck.”

“Mmm, you were a virgin. It’s all it is. But you’re not now, are you?” You shake your head, as he smacks your ass gently, one cheek than the other. “And when you threw her to the ground, lemme tell ya how hard ya got me?”

“I did?” He chuckles, kissing up your thighs now, fingers gripping into the plush flesh at the center, and his breath is hot, tickling you, you’re so shaky you can barely take it.

“Sure did, sexy as fuck.”

“Ah!” You scream out as Toji pulls your thong to the side and licks a stripe up your slit with the flat of his tongue, lapping at the wetness already pooled there.

“And you, little bitch that you are, got this wet from making me angry? Was that the goal, get Toji mean with ya?”

Shit.

Your pussy did this maybe!?

“Did n-not. Fuck you.”

“Nah think I’ll fuck you.” He stands then, turning you and picking you up, throwing you over his shoulder, smacking your bare ass so hard this time you cry out at the sting, as the fans whirl from his ceiling and cool air hits them. You gasp, up far too high.

“That hurts, you damn big brute! Caveman!”

“Ah, getting yourself even wetter? Slutty little brat.” Toji huffs, fingering you then as he holds you up over his shoulder, and you’re moaning, soaking his fingers, as he bites the fuck out of your hip, before tossing you on his bed, and you bounce at the impact, gasping.

“Toji, I am sorry. Daddy…” You crawl on your knees, just in your panties and bra now, and Toji is furious, veins in that thick neck bulging, his hands brutal when they push you down again, on your back, and he’s yanking your panties down your thighs, making you shiver with desire.

“No, you’re not just bad, you’re very fucking annoying and bad. You wanna drive me fuckin insane, then you get the consequenses, got it?”

“Daddy I said sorry.” You blink your lashes, and he hesitates, then shakes his head, putting your panties to his face and moaning, he’s so nasty but it makes you even wetter, and he clearly sees it pooling down.

“No, not getting out of this one, brat. I’m done with your attitude, it seems I gotta teach you manners. Your dad didn’t, let you run around and be such a little brat, all the time. Spoiled.”

“Toji…” You get this tiny amount of fear then, as Toji takes off his belt, and your cunt throbs around nothing as he flips you, and you feel something silky wrapping your wrists now. “Toji!”

“Hush this mouth before I gag you.” You whine pathetically now, as your tits are shoved out of the bra, bouncing out for his view as he circles you on the bed.

“I’m tired of your mouth. I only want you, annoying as fuck as you are. Got me, doll?” You nod, biting your lip as he bends down, tilting your chin up and kissing you, bruising in his kisses, and you melt into him, but then he’s smacking your cheek, making your face sting. “Answer me.”

“Yes, Daddy. I’m sorry.”

“Not good enough, but it’s a start.” He pushes your head down into the mattress then, running his leather belt along the curve of your ass, and then he smacks the fuck out of you with that belt, so hard you scream. “One. How many do you think you deserve?”

“N-none, daddy.”

“Wrong answer doll. Let’s start with how many times you said ‘Fuck you Toji’ yeah?” He mocks your voice, and you’re whimpering, then he smacks you with the belt again, burning your skin, and then he slides a finger between your lips, pulling that wetness out, moaning softly. “And you like it, dirty lil slut f’me.”

“Ngh, Toji I’m really sorry.” You scream out as he smacks you again, fingering you rougher, two fingers, pressing up against your spot, past that tight ring of muscles, against your little gummy walls. Your pussy starts pouring out wetness now, slippery, loud in his room.

“So slutty. You’re not a good girl, are you?”

“I am.”

“Lying to me now. Hmm.” He hits you right across the backs of your thighs, hitting your sore little cunt, and it hurts so bad you’re crying into your pillow now, but your pussy is almost ready to cum, you’re so fucking ready. “Got something to say, brat?”

“F-fuck me, please.” He grips your hips now, pulling your ass up, cheeks apart, spitting down your little ass hole and dripping to your cunt.

“You deserve dick right now, you think so?”

“You want it, old man, stop- okay fuck!” Another smack, lower across your thighs, makes your knees buckle, and he’s pulling your ass back, holding you up, as you sob softly. “I’m sorry, s’sorry… T-Toji…”

“You remember that safe word?” He says softly, pulling your hair and bringing you to your knees, you nod quickly, as his breath tickles your ear.

“I remember it.”

“So you’re good, doll?” You hear it then, the concern, the care, making sure you’re okay even as he’s beating your ass.

“I’m not just good, I’m soaking wet, Daddy.” Your words earn his sexy moan, and he’s turning your face to him, gripping your breasts, squishing them in his hands and his thumbs pressing on your sensitive nipples. Your head falls back, ass arching for more and more of his rough touches.

Your pussy is so soaked when he wraps his arm around your hips, finding your clit, and you’re so wet his fingers slip. “Fuck, you’re stupid wet.”

“Fuck me, please.” You beg, as he’s pumping two fingers inside you, making the most lewd noise, and he pulls them out just before you cum, shoving them in your mouth so deep you almost choke.

“You’re not done yet, you’ve pissed me off so fuckin much. Ya think that was enough hits?”

“I do!”

“And now you beg for dick, pathetic f’me, so fucking slutty.”

“Ugh, fuck you- shit, shit sorry!” Toji’s big hand now smacks the fuck out of you, so hard you’re rocked forward, and you look back with tears in your eyes, and he’s furious now.

“So you’re still running the mouth, gotta fix that.” He shoves your head back down, and then he’s shoved three fingers in your little entrance, stretching you too full, and you’re wriggling every which way.

“T’much!” You whimper the words, muffled by the pillow, and Toji bends low now, tongue on the little unused hole, as he keeps working your cunt. The sensations are too much, there’s so much pressure building you think you’ll explode, your eyes rolling back, thighs shaking.

“Always running this mouth, huh? Do you think you’ll get to cum?” He yanks his fingers out then, and you scream out in pain, empty and pulsing, so close it hurts. “Aw, were ya close, brat?”

“S’sorry…”

“Nah, that’s not a good apology.” Toji slides two fingers in your cunt again, only to shove them up into your ass, and now the stretch nearly breaks you, as his other hand slides down, rubbing your clit, overstimulating and teasing. “Maybe I’ll break you the fuck in, huh?”

“Ngh…” You can’t say a damn thing, you’re drowning in pleasure, in need, as you’re about to cum again, and you’re sobbing hot sticky tears when he stops toying with you completely, when he’s spitting on you again, spreading his hot saliva all over your pussy and ass. “Please…”

“Please what, slutty fuckin brat? Use those words. Or already stupid from my fingers?”

The more he degrades you, the hornier and wetter you are, as his thumb pumps in your ass again. “Fuck me there.”

Toji pauses then, and for a moment it’s silent, then he’s getting undressed behind you, his tip rubbing against your slit, grinding on your clit, between your puffy lips, moaning as he feels how wet you are. Your arms are aching as you can barely breathe, so shoved against the blanket you are feeling so hot everywhere, almost weak.

“So slutty ya need me in all your holes, huh?” He whispers, now sliding his cock up, his thick, reddened tip dripping precum as it rubs your little hole, pressing in and making you hiss at it.

“Slutty for you, Daddy.” He moans then, one hand at the base of his cock, the other gripping your hip, pressing his thumb in the dimple of your back, pressing further, and then you feel him, the thickness inside, so intense you’re shaking violently. He’s gentle for all his talk, for how he usually fucks your pussy, just barely moving, and just that has you a mess.

“Fuck you feel so good, doll. Fuck… are you all right?” He asks, and you smile against the pillow, at how sweet he can be even when he’s literally fucking your ass, which is covered in red whelps.

“It feels good, alot though… can you untie me, please?” He quickly does as you ask, and you move your numb fingers, up on your hands and knees now, and he’s running one hand up your rib cage, wrapping your waist and bending over you, his lips against your ear. “Daddy… it’s s’good.”

“You like it, doll, huh? Want me deeper in that tight little ass?” His husky voice kills you, as he pulls back, and you nod eagerly. “Then what do we say?”

“Please, Daddy. Please- ah!” He shoves in deeper, his hand brutal as it grabs your entire body damn near, as the other braces itself on the bed over you. Your own hands cling to his thick cotton blankets, arching your ass up for more, every inch feels like ten, so good you can’t stand it, eyes rolling back, your toes curling against the bed as he fucks you slowly.

“Oh my fucking… fuck, fuck…” He’s cursing, not moving, moaning and breathing in your ear, making you shiver as your cunt throbs around nothing. “Can’t hold back, can you take it, baby doll?”

“I’ll try, Daddy.” He moans at that again, then he’s shoved in so deep it rips you in fucking half, and you’re screaming, as he’s huffing, his huge cock sliding in and out of your tight hole, his balls smacking your neglected entrance. “Ah, ah, ah!”

“Feel so fuckin good, Ma.” Toji bottoms out, before leaning you forward, on your stomach, bracing himself over you, one hand sliding down your spine, dripping with sweat now. He smacks your ass, bringing your hips up, and starts fucking into you, skin of his pelvis smacking your ass, making it jiggle with each thrust. “Rub that clit, pretty doll.”

“Y-yes Daddy.” You earn his satisfied sigh, as he pulls your hips up more, you’re on your knees, rubbing your clit in circles with your tiny fingers, and one of his hands finds your cunt, filling your pussy with two fingers. It’s so much, too much, your clit, pussy and ass so filled you can’t think anymore.

Your hands join each other, and you’re gushing out, as Toji’s thrusts slow, and he’s rolling his hips, hitting some spot that makes your tummy coil with tension. “You’re doing good, doll, s’good for your daddy, huh?”

“Please… can I cum? Please. I’ll be good.” He laughs softly, slamming his length in you hard, fingering you deeper, until your cunt and mouth are drooling, pools of arousal and saliva, and you’re blinded.

“Cum f’me, doll, let me feel this slutty ass around my cock.” Toji presses in so deep you can’t see, crooking those fingers, and yours slip off as you begin to cum, so hard and so much pressure, your little hole begins to squirt all over Toji’s hands, and you can’t even speak, can’t do anything as it sprays all over the bed. “Oh my god… fuck…”

“S-sorry!? Sorry! S-sorry….” You’re chanting as you keep cumming, and he groans, pausing his movements, to pull his hand back staring at the sticky mess with wonder.

“Sorry, fuck no. You’re such a good girl, squirting f’me.” You blink a bit, as you try to come to, and he’s pulled out of you, making you hiss, so damn sore, as he flips you on your back, rubbing your clit side to side.

“Too sensitive, too much… too wet…”

“Oh, doll, fuck no, Imma need you to do it again, gonna drink it.” He says, husky, dragging your hips and spreading your thighs, and you’re yanking at his silky black hair, and he’s lapping at your clit, three fingers back stretching your cunt, and you’re close again. He hums on your clit, and your hips buck up off the bed, and you’re gushing all over again.

“F-f-fuck, ah!” You’re screaming out as Toji drinks you up, you’re spraying so much wetness out, it’s all over his chin, his face, as he grins, long tongue lapping what he can as you make a wet spot in the bed.

“That’s it, that’s my lil slut.” He’s smacking loud kisses on your cunt, leaning up now, shoving your thighs up high, your knees on either side of you, pressing into the mattress, folding you in fucking half. “Imma put a baby in you now.”

“Toji…” He chuckles, smacking your cheek and shaking his head. “Daddy…”

“Mmm, you ready to take it? She sure made a fuckin mess, didn’t she?” He shoves in your cunt now, and it immediately tightens, so sensitive from how hard you had cum you can’t stand it, falling apart with every thick thrust of his veiny cock, as his swollen tip is rubbing right against your spot.

“Too much, too much! Too much!” You’re a mess, writhing and shattering under him, under his heavy weight, pressing down on your thighs with his brutal hands, as his cock bullies your cervix, and you can’t take anymore, damn near blacking out.

“You tryna pass out, brat? Tap out?” He huffs, as you try to keep your eyes open, as your mouth is slack and open, as you’re pushed over some edge. He fucks you so deep you feel him everywhere, as you see black glittery stars, and he’s cupping your face possessively. “Look at me, doll.”

You gaze at him with dilated, cock drunk eyes, narrowing, your lashes shaqdowing your view, as you struggle to breathe, brows drawing together, cheeks flushed, and he studies you with heated dark eyes, shoving in so deep then. He rolls his hips and the tip is just grinding against your cervix, pushing you again, and you’re so weak you can barely moan.

You cling to him, nails digging into his broad shoulders, scratching him hard as you cling to him to tether you, but he’s the one pushing you further and further, as he works you, as he’s heaving his own breaths. His chest contains that heart that thuds erratically now, his thumbs brushing your cheeks gently as his cock presses and stretches you till you’ll break.

“That’s it doll, lemme feel ya around me, can’t fuckin think can you? I fuck you stupid?” You would say ‘fuck you Toji’ but you can’t do anything, he has to swipe your drool off your face then, sticking his thumb between your lips, for you to weakly bite, and he bites out in laughter. “Fucked the brat out of ya.”

You wish you could say something smart, but he’s got you so weak, it’s too much, the pressure, the stretch, his sweat dripping down on you, you just weakly cry out, and now he’s leaned back slightly, putting his weight on your sore thighs. His balls smack the little hole he’d wrecked, as he fills your pussy, and his pelvis smaches against an overstimulated clit.

“Ready for this baby in ya, huh doll? Fill ya so good with me.” He cooes those words out, and all you can do is nod just a bit, gasping, head sinking into the bed as your hips buck up at how deep he gets. “Say it, say it doll.’

“W-want… your babies… Daddy…” You speak in a breathy whisper, hearing that gutteral groan as his rhythm stutters, as your walls convulse around him, and you’re gulping for air, as if he’s choking you, your sore ass fucked deeper and deeper into the mattress, making it throb and ache.

“Take all this cum, be my good girl, yeah?” You nod weakly, then he’s leaned over you, shoving in and his tip is quivering, pulsing, as hot spurts of cum fill you, and she eagerly drinks them in, like she wants it, wants it as bad as you won’t admit. Toji’s kissing you, hot and messy, moaning his pleasure into your lips, his scar brushing against the corner of your mouth.

You’re crying now, tears down your face, as he finishes pumping so much cum, and you’re clinging to him, as he’s tasting your salty tears. He keeps kissing you, long after he’s cum, as your fluids are dripping down the bed under you, and he leans up then, eyes different, they’re softer, his lips are rested, parting as he rubs your face so sweetly.

“I fuckin love, you, little doll.” He murmurs, and you sob more, kissing him and sinking your hands into his hair.

“L-love you. Love you Toji. Fuck. I’m a mess.” You say weakly, and he chuckles a bit, pulling off you, making you suck in a breath as he pulls out, leaving you empty.

“You’re a beautiful fucking mess, so, so messy too.” He fingers the sticky cum between your lips, making you jerk and cry out. “Didn’t know you could squirt, freaky lil slut aren’t ya?”

“I didn’t know either. Fuck it was too much though. I’m done.” You weakly fall back, and Toji sits you up carefully, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Lemme get you cleaned up, want a shower doll?” He asks softly, caressing your back, brushing up and down, and you exhale, shutting your eyes and sinking against him.

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll take care of ya.” He picks you up with ease, as you weakly let him carry you. “I love taking care of you after I ruin that little mind of yours.”

“Dick.” He snorts, and you can’t summon the energy to glare, you just let him bring you inside his shower, surprisingly gorgeous, with marble tiles, and a waterfall shower head. “This is s’nice.”

“Built it.”

“Built it?” You yawn, blinking bleary eyed as he washes your hair, his rough hands gently, massaging your scalp, as the hot water pours over you both, and the steam rises in the shower.

“Yeah, I built most of this place. Was bare bones.”

“Mmm, my manly man.” He snorts, and soon he’s rinsing your hair, sudsing your body up.

“You’re so pathetic f’me, little doll, can’t stand?”

“Fuck no.” He’s chuckling, holding you gently, and you think that the moment can’t get much better, being in his arms, feeling his heartbeat thud in his chest, so soothing you almost fall asleep then and there. Only to be wrapped in his big, strong arms all night in his bed.

*****

Fuck you feel sick, you sit up as you awaken, and Toji’s sheets are rumpled, your nipples are killing you, more than they have been, and you peer between your thighs, worried you’re on your period. You’re thankfully not, standing now, smelling breakfast Toji is cooking, which should be yummy, tantalizing, but another wave of nausea rolls through you.

You only had one glass of wine!?

You blink at the sun streaming through the windows of Toji’s cozy cabin, standing on wobbly legs, he’d fucked you so good you can barely walk even now, your ass is so goddamn sore from his belt, and his cock it’s ridiculous. You wonder how you’re going to manage to sit even.

You pad barefooted on old wooden floors, seeing Toji’s sexy, strong back now, and you can’t even appreciate it, because your tummy is rumbling and hurts. You bite back it, trying to suck in a breath, and Toji looks back, grinning deviously, dark green eyes drinking you in.

“Sit down and eat, doll. Let daddy cook for ya.”

You can’t even snort, you can’t do anything but cover your mouth, and he then looks concerned, brows lowering, and you run off to his bathroom, throwing up everything you’d digested last night. You’re sobbing as you do, and Toji is there, freaking out.

“Well shit, the fuck!? You okay!?” He’s pulling your hair, trying to be gentle but he’s such a damn brute it yanks your hair.

“Ow- fuck!” 

“Shit, my bad. Here.” He’s yanking one of your pony tails off the sink, putting your hair up in a bun then, rubbing his hand on your back as you flush the toilet. “Was it something you ate?”

“No, I don’t think?”

“The wine?”

“One glass, no. Shit am I sick? I…”

You trail off then, and do some math in your damn head, then you gasp, falling back on the tile floor. “Doll, want some water?”

“Fuck no. No, no, no. Shit!” You’re trembling, hugging your knocking knees then, eyes wide in horror as you look at Toji.

“What the fuck is it?”

“You… I… oh my god.”

“What!?”

“You asshole!” You haul off and smack him then, earning his glare, snatching your wrist and shoving you against the wall, pinning you there.

“Me, I didn’t do shit, don’t smack me little fuckin bitch. Explain yourself, what the fuck is…” He trails off then, and brushes your nipple, making you scream out. “Fuck… shit… you’re sensitive, I noticed, and they’re even…”

“Oh my god.”

“Shit. Are you…” He looks up at you carefully, as you struggle to fight another wave of nausea, then he presses on your flat tummy, as you come to the most scary fucking thing you’ve ever though of. “Are you pregnant!?”

Shit.

A/N enjoy the cliffie *evil laughing* ahahahah

Chapter 11

[its-avalon-08]

May I please request something with female reader and Lando Norris. With a plus size reader. (Not enough out there I fear) Where they have been dating for a while and at a race a fan corners her and says something about her weight and how Lando’s just with her for potty and is waiting for the right time to dump her. She doesn’t tell Lando, and one day he hears her crying. Like the crying that hurts your heart and Lando confronts her and when he’s doing that he sees scars on her wrist that she has. And he promises to always be there and that he would never leave her despite everything because he loves her and pictures a future with her.

I hope that’s okay with you.

all my love (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, comfort, hate speech, self harm fatphobia

The energy at the race was electric. Fans filled the stands, waving flags and cheering at every opportunity. Y/N stood on the sidelines, smiling as Lando’s car zipped by on the track. She loved supporting him, always had, but the attention that came with dating a Formula 1 driver was something she was still adjusting to. There were moments when it felt like the whole world was watching her, scrutinizing every move, every glance, every flaw. But Lando made it worth it, always making her feel loved, never treating her any differently because of her size.

Today, though, the usual buzz of excitement had a different edge. She sensed it the moment she stepped out into the paddock, feeling eyes on her. She brushed it off—today was Lando’s day, and nothing could ruin that. At least, that’s what she thought.

As she stood by herself, waiting for the race to end, a group of fans approached. At first, they seemed friendly, asking for photos and autographs. But then, a woman, maybe a few years older than her, edged closer, her eyes narrowing.

"You’re Y/N, right?" the woman asked, voice dripping with a sweetness that felt fake.

Y/N nodded politely, "Yeah, that’s me."

The woman’s smile turned icy. "I’m surprised Lando’s still with you."

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. "Excuse me?"

"I mean, look at you," the woman continued, her voice now openly venomous. "You really think a guy like Lando is with you for… what, love? No, sweetheart, he’s just waiting for the right moment to dump you. Guys like him? They don’t stay with girls like you, girls who look like they can't control their fucking appetite. They’re always on the lookout for something better."

Y/N’s heart dropped into her stomach, her breath catching in her throat. She forced a smile, trying to stay composed. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

The woman laughed, the sound sharp and mocking. "Please. He’s famous, rich, and let’s be honest, out of your league. Look at you—" her eyes raked over Y/N’s body, judging every inch, "—you’re just a phase, a placeholder until someone hotter and thinner comes along. And don’t even get me started on your weight. Ever heard of portion control?"

Y/N froze. The words stung, burning deep into her heart. She could feel her face heating up, the tears prickling at the back of her eyes. She tried to swallow the hurt, but it was overwhelming, suffocating.

"You know it, don’t you?" the woman pressed. "Every time you look in the mirror, you know you don’t belong in his world. How could you? You’re not like the other girls. The pretty ones. The ones who fit the image. I bet he only keeps you around for the attention, to make himself look like a good guy. The ‘Oh, look, I’m dating a fat girl’ kind of thing. He’ll get bored of that eventually."

Y/N felt her chest tighten, her fingers shaking as she clenched them into fists, trying desperately to hold back the tears threatening to fall. She didn’t want to give this woman the satisfaction of seeing her break.

"Why would you say something like that?" she whispered, her voice trembling, but the woman just shrugged.

"Because it’s the truth. You don’t really think Lando’s in it for the long haul, do you? Not with someone like you."

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. She was speechless, shattered by the cruelty in the woman’s words. She had always struggled with self-doubt, but hearing it confirmed by a stranger? It felt like a punch to the gut.

The woman took a step back, looking pleased with herself, then walked away without another word, leaving Y/N standing there, hollow and broken.

As the roar of the cars continued in the background, the noise around her faded. All she could hear were the words echoing in her mind. You don’t belong in his world… just a phase… waiting to dump you…

Y/N blinked, trying to pull herself together, but the weight of those words pressed down on her like a boulder. She felt sick, the pit in her stomach growing with each second. How could someone be so cruel? How could they say such things when they didn’t even know her?

And worse… what if they were right?

She swallowed the lump in her throat and forced herself to smile, though it was shaky, even though every part of her wanted to cry. Lando would be back soon, and the last thing she wanted was for him to see her like this, broken and doubting everything they had.

But the cracks were already starting to form, and deep down, Y/N wasn’t sure how long she could hold herself together.

time skip

The apartment was quiet, except for the occasional hum of the city outside. Lando had just gotten back from a long day, eager to find Y/N and relax with her. He loved the quiet moments they shared, just the two of them, away from the cameras and the noise of the world.

But something felt off the second he walked in. It was too quiet. He dropped his keys on the counter, his eyes scanning the living room, but Y/N wasn’t there. A sense of unease settled in his chest.

That’s when he heard it—a muffled sound, faint but unmistakable.

Crying.

His heart clenched instantly, his feet carrying him down the hallway before he even had time to think. He knew that cry—it was the kind that broke you, the kind that came from a place so deep it made your chest ache just hearing it.

"Y/N?" he called out softly as he reached the bedroom door. It was slightly ajar, and through the crack, he could hear her sobbing. "Baby, what’s wrong?"

There was no answer, only the sound of her sobs growing louder. He pushed the door open gently, his eyes landing on her. She was sitting on the floor, her knees pulled up to her chest, her face buried in her hands. Her whole body was shaking, her cries raw and broken.

"Y/N…" Lando’s voice was soft, but it cracked with worry. He rushed to her, dropping to his knees in front of her, his hands reaching out to touch her, but she flinched, as if his touch burned. That reaction tore at him.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" she sobbed, her voice broken and trembling, barely able to get the words out. "Why didn’t you just tell me you’re going to leave me?"

Lando’s heart dropped. "What? Leave you? Y/N, I would never—"

"Don’t lie!" she screamed, her voice filled with so much pain it shattered him. "I know what people are saying, I know what they think of me. I’m not blind, Lando. They all think I’m not good enough for you. And you… you’re just too nice to tell me to my face."

He froze, trying to understand where this was coming from, his mind racing. "Baby, no, that’s not true—"

"It is!" she cried, her hands pulling at her hair in frustration. "I’m not what you need. I’m not the pretty, skinny girlfriend you’re supposed to have! I’m the one who’s always in the way, always being judged for not fitting in."

Lando was stunned. "Who told you that? Y/N, I never—"

"It doesn’t matter who said it!" she shouted, her voice breaking. "I feel it every day. Every time we’re out in public, every time I see the way people look at me, I hear it in their voices. I’m too much for you… and you’re going to realize it eventually."

Lando’s chest tightened, his throat closing up as he saw the depth of her pain. He had no idea it was this bad. He didn’t know she’d been carrying this weight around.

"Y/N…" His voice was soft, but before he could say more, something caught his eye—her wrist. There, beneath her sleeve, were faint scars, thin and pale, like a hidden secret she had tried to keep from the world.

His heart stopped. "What… what is this?" His voice was barely above a whisper as he gently reached for her arm.

Y/N froze, pulling away quickly, but it was too late. Lando had seen them. The pain in his eyes mirrored the torment she had been carrying for so long.

"Y/N… why? Why didn’t you tell me?" His voice cracked, tears already forming in his eyes as he looked at her, his hands trembling as he cupped her face. "Please, baby, talk to me. What’s going on? Why are you hurting like this?"

She shook her head, her sobs growing louder. "I’m sorry," she whispered through the tears, her voice so broken it hurt to hear. "I’m so sorry, Lando. I didn’t want to… I didn’t know how to stop. I just… it hurt so much."

Lando felt his heart breaking in ways he never thought possible. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, pulling her close to him as if holding her could take all the pain away. She clung to him, her body shaking with sobs, her tears soaking his shirt.

"You should leave me," she whispered against his chest. "I’m too broken. You don’t deserve to deal with this."

Lando pulled back, his hands cupping her face, his eyes burning with unshed tears. "Don’t you dare say that. I’m not leaving you. Ever."

"But I’m not enough," she choked out. "I’m not enough for you."

"You are everything," Lando said, his voice firm but soft, full of love. "You hear me? You are everything to me, Y/N. I don’t care what anyone says or thinks. I’m not with you for popularity, or to make myself look good. I’m with you because I love you. I love you, exactly as you are."

She shook her head, still crying. "But I’m not good enough. I’m not what you need."

"You’re exactly what I need," he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers. "I need you. I need your laugh, your smile, your heart. I need you to believe that I’m in this with you. For good."

"But the scars…" she whispered, her voice trembling as she looked down at her wrist. "I’m not okay, Lando."

He kissed her forehead, his tears falling now, unable to hold them back any longer. "I know you’re not okay right now. But you will be. I’m going to help you through this, baby. I’m not going anywhere. You’re not alone in this."

Lando held Y/N tightly in his arms, feeling the way her body trembled with every sob. His heart ached, but he knew that no matter how deep her pain went, he was going to be there to pull her out of it. He wasn’t going to let her drown in her thoughts, not now, not ever. He cupped her face, gently forcing her to look up at him, her tear-streaked eyes filled with so much hurt that it nearly broke him.

"Y/N, listen to me." His voice was soft, yet there was an undeniable firmness to it, like every word was weighted with conviction. "I need you to hear me, really hear me this time. You’re not alone in this. I know you feel like you are, I know it’s been hard… but I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere."

Her eyes searched his, still filled with doubt, still consumed by the things people had said to her, but he continued, refusing to let her sink into that darkness.

"I see a future with you. Not just tomorrow or next week, but years from now, Y/N. I picture it all. You and me, building something real together. A home, a life. Waking up next to you every morning, falling asleep next to you every night. Growing old together." His voice caught in his throat for a moment, overwhelmed by how much he meant every word. "You’re not just someone I’m passing time with. You’re the person I want to spend my life with."

She shook her head weakly, still crying. "But why? I don’t understand… why would you want me?"

Lando exhaled sharply, his eyes burning as he fought back his own tears. "Why? Because you’re everything to me, Y/N. I don’t care what anyone says or what you think you’re lacking. I love you for exactly who you are. Your kindness, your strength, the way you light up a room with your smile. Even when you don’t believe in yourself, I do. I see how incredible you are, how much love you have to give, and I don’t ever want to live without that."

She sniffled, her lip trembling. "But I’m not enough, Lando. I’m not perfect. I’m broken."

He shook his head fiercely, brushing away the tears on her cheeks with his thumbs. "You’re not broken. And even if you were, I wouldn’t care. I don’t need you to be perfect. I don’t want perfect. I want you. The real you, the one who sometimes struggles, the one who sometimes feels like she’s falling apart. I want to be the one who catches you when you do. I want to be the person you lean on, the one who helps you carry the weight when it gets too heavy."

She looked away, tears streaming down her face, but Lando gently guided her gaze back to his. "You’re not just some phase for me. You’re my forever, Y/N. I see us getting married one day, building a family if that’s what you want. I want us to have all of it—the laughter, the tough times, the quiet moments. I want to hold your hand through everything life throws at us. I want to wake up in the middle of the night just to see you sleeping beside me and feel grateful that you’re mine."

His words came out in a rush now, fueled by the depth of his emotions. "You think I’ll leave you because of what? Because of your size? That’s insane. You’re beautiful to me, every single inch of you. I love the way you are, your curves, the softness of your skin when I hold you. But more than that, I love what’s inside. Your heart, your soul, the way you care about people, how you’re always thinking of others before yourself. You think I could ever walk away from that? From you? Never."

Y/N’s sobs quieted for a moment, but the tears kept falling, her chest heaving as she tried to absorb what he was saying.

Lando took a deep breath, steadying himself as he continued, his voice trembling with the weight of his own emotions. "You’ve seen my worst days, you’ve seen me at my lowest, and you still loved me. How could I not love you back with everything I have? I want a life with you, Y/N. The messy, the hard, the beautiful—all of it. I want you by my side through everything. We’ll get through this. You don’t have to be perfect for me. You just have to be you, because that’s enough."

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, his tears mingling with hers. "I love you, Y/N. You’re the love of my life, and I’m not going to let you carry this burden alone anymore. I’m going to be here every step of the way, helping you heal, helping you see yourself the way I see you. You deserve to be happy, and I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you know that."

Y/N’s sobs finally subsided as she melted into him, her body weak from crying but her heart beginning to feel something it hadn’t in a long time—hope. Lando held her close, his arms wrapped tightly around her as if he could shield her from all the pain she’d been feeling.

"I’m never going to leave you," he whispered against her hair, his voice full of raw emotion. "No matter what the world says, no matter what you think sometimes. I’m in this for life, Y/N. I love you, and nothing—nothing—will ever change that."

For the first time in what felt like forever, Y/N allowed herself to believe him.

[foreverisntenough]

‘Act II’

Summary: Attraction is like a gravitational pull that is undefinable and unavoidable. Unbeknownst to you, Jude had been keeping an eye on you since he caught a glimpse on his best friend’s girlfriend’s Instagram but he’s been loving his single life. You always were independent and know how to swim on your own but maybe you have been just treading water. Could the tides change on a holiday in Greece when you finally meet? It might get a little rocky but maybe you could be his paradise.

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! ‘Act II’ is interconnected to the 'You’re Mine' and 'Ours' Series but can read it independently.

Chapter 12 - 'Like Your Home' | ‘Act II’

word count - 11.2k

You and Jude were both exhausted, not just physically after probably too many rounds making up for lost time but emotionally, having navigated the long, winding path back to one another. You and Jude had had sex for hours, you couldn’t get enough. So after you felt completely spent, you closed your eyes, letting yourself relax into him, but then you heard something that caught you off guard. Jude started laughing. It wasn't a big laugh, more like a quiet chuckle that came from deep in his chest, but it was enough to make you lift your head in confusion. You looked up at him, your brow furrowed and a smile pulling at your lips, unsure of what was going through his mind.

"What?" you asked, starting to laugh yourself, tilting your head slightly, wondering what had caused this sudden burst of amusement. Jude grinned, his eyes sparkling with a kind of boyish joy you hadn't seen in a while. His hand came up to brush a strand of hair from your face, and he let out another small laugh before he spoke. 

"Sorry. I don’t know. I'm just...so happy," he said, his voice soft but filled with that unmistakable giddiness. He looked at you like he still couldn't quite believe this was real, that you were here with him again, in this way. “Angel, I haven’t fucked you in ages and I cannot tell you how often I’ve thought about that.” He laughed. You blinked at him, a smile tugging at your lips despite your confusion. 

"You're laughing because you're happy you fucked me?" you asked, teasingly raising an eyebrow. Jude nodded, his hand running gently down your back. 

"Yeah," he admitted, looking slightly sheepish but still grinning. "I just missed this so much. Being with you like this... I missed being in bed with you." His confession made your heart flutter, and your smile widened. It was backwardsly sweet. You felt the same sense of relief and joy that he did, that this space between the two of you had finally been filled again. The weight of what had been lost, the heartbreak, the distance-it all seemed to melt away in this moment. It felt good. It felt right. You leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to his bare chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your lips. 

"I missed it too," you whispered against his skin, your voice soft but full of truth. You cuddled into him, feeling his warmth, his presence, and that giddiness he had spoken of was reflected in your own heart. “Missed how good you make me feel, baby.” You cooed, kissing his bare chest. Jude wrapped his arms tighter around you, his hand running soothing circles over your back as the laughter faded into a peaceful quiet. The two of you just laid there, wrapped up in each other, feeling the joy of having found your way back. But the longer you laid there in that comforting warmth of Jude’s arms, a sudden wave of insecurity washed over you. You couldn’t help it—everything between you felt perfect now, but the time apart still lingered in the back of your mind. You hesitated, unsure if you should even ask, but the question slipped out before you could stop it. “Jude… Did you…did you sleep with anyone while we were apart?” Your voice was soft, almost timid, but the moment the words left your lips, you felt your heart drop into your stomach. Jude’s body stiffened slightly, and that brief silence made your pulse race. The fear that you had maybe shattered this perfect moment crept in, gnawing at your chest. He sighed deeply, and for a second, you feared the worst. But then he pulled you closer, his hand gently cupping your face as he tilted your chin up so you were forced to meet his eyes.

“No, angel,” he said firmly, his voice soothing but serious. “I didn’t. I don’t want you to ever have to ask me that again.” He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “You’re the only one I want.” You blinked up at him, relief flooding your body, and you gave him a small nod, feeling a bit silly for even asking. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “It’s just… I guess I got scared.” Jude shook his head, giving you a soft smile. 

“Don’t be sorry, I know I’ve hurt you, you deserve to know I haven’t, but I’m just for you, yeah?” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I’d be crazy to want anything other than this—other than you.” You couldn’t help but giggle softly at his words, a smile breaking through the lingering doubt.

“Yeah,” you teased lightly, “I know just what you like, huh?” You teased. Jude’s eyes glinted with warmth and mischief as he hummed in agreement. His hands dropping to squeeze your ass and pull your body flush against his. 

“Oh, you seem to know more than that,” he said, his voice dropping to a playful murmur. “So good f’me. Always have been.” He cooed. Your heart fluttered at the affection in his words, and you buried your face into his chest, feeling the tension dissolve into a soft, shared laughter. It was as though the vulnerability of the moment had brought you even closer, deepening the bond between you two. Jude kissed the top of your head and held you tighter, both of you sinking back into that familiar, comforting space, knowing that you were exactly where you belonged—together. You lay there in the silence of the night dipping into the early morning, wrapped up in each other. 

The world felt quiet, still, like nothing existed outside this moment. Jude's arms were securely around you, You had moved for his chest to be pressed against your back, and his steady breaths brushed your hair. 

“I missed you so much, angel… I missed going to sleep with you.” Jude whispered, breaking the silence. His voice was raw, and it tugged at something deep inside you. You shifted slightly in his arms, turning your head enough to catch a glimpse of him. 

“Did you ever think about me when we were apart?” You asked fairly naively considering he was in New York so evidently he had. 

“Every night,” he admitted softly. “Every fucking night, angel. I couldn’t escape you. I hated when we got to a point when your scent started to fade from my sheets, but even then you were still there, in my dreams.” He told you. You felt a rush of emotion, his words hitting you harder than you expected. You blinked back the sudden sting of tears, trying to keep your voice light, even teasing.

“Well,” you said with a playful smile, “I didn’t want to let you go that easily.” You cooed. Jude chuckled softly, his breath warm against the nape of your neck.

“I wouldn’t have let you anyway.”  Jude told you through a tired laugh. “Missed falling asleep with you in my arms, ya’know.” He whispered, keeping his voice quiet in the dark room. 

“I did too. You know what I missed?” You smiled coyly. Jude hummed. “I really missed the way your cock pushes into me when we cuddle like this.” You pushed your ass back into Jude so his hard cock nestled  just barely in between your ass cheeks. “I love going to sleep feeling that.” You cooed laced with seduction, getting a second wave having this gorgeous boy back in your bed. It was honest though, you did miss it. 

“Fuck. Angel, c’mon I’m knackered don’t start.” Jude breathily laughed, pulling you tighter to him, further pushing himself against you. Despite his caution, he betrayed himself. “I just missed my hands on you. Missed getting you out of all those silly little things you’d wear to bed every night.” He kissed your temple as his massive hands ran over your warm skin. 

“I know you like that. I come to bed with such cute lingerie sets on for you to see and I just end up naked.” You giggled, placing your hands over his, turning your head back to look up and see the smug greedy smile on his face. 

“Eh, that’s okay baby. I like seeing you climb into bed with them on and I really like taking them off of you. I still appreciate them. Just you know… better on my floor is the saying, hmm?” He smirked squeezing you. You shook your head but couldn’t hold back the giggle remembering that very phrase vividly from when you first met in Greece.  As you cuddled closer, letting yourself sink further into him, you felt his lips graze your bare shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss there. It was such a small gesture, but it meant everything. That single kiss held all the love, the longing, and the promise of everything you’d been through together. You took a deep breath, but it caught in your throat as you felt the tears well up again. The overwhelming flood of emotions, the relief of being back in his arms, was too much. 

“I never thought I’d miss someone kissing my shoulder,” you whispered, your voice cracking just a little. Jude heard it, the fragility in your voice, and without a word, he kissed your shoulder again, more tenderly this time. 

“You’ll never have to miss that again,” he whispered back, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. His words wrapped around your heart, and you couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. They slipped silently down your cheeks, but this time they weren’t out of sadness—they were out of relief. Jude’s arms tightened around you, his lips lingering on your skin, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were exactly where you belonged. You turned your face into the pillow, not wanting him to see your tears, but Jude noticed. He always noticed. He kissed your hair, then whispered against your ear, “I’ll never stop loving you. Never. Never stop kissing this shoulder.” He kissed you again. And as you lay there, in the quiet, secure in his embrace, you believed him. Every word.

Waking up with Jude after he arrived in New York felt like slipping into a dream, you didn’t want to leave your bed. The morning sunlight peeked through the sheer curtains, casting a soft, golden hue across the room. You were nestled against him, his body warm and solid beneath you, one of his arms draped lazily over your waist, pulling you close as if even in sleep, he couldn’t bear to be apart from you. His breath was soft against the top of your head, a steady, calming rhythm. You could feel the slow rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, the comforting beat of his heart grounding you in the moment. It was one of those rare mornings where time seemed to stop, and the rest of the world didn’t matter. You blinked your eyes open slowly, taking in the sight of him—his hair slightly messier than he’d ever want it, the peaceful expression on his face as he slept, his jawline softened in the morning light. For a moment, you just watched him, marveling at the fact that he was there, with you, after everything. You shifted slightly, and Jude stirred beneath you, his grip tightening around your waist as he let out a sleepy, contented sigh. His eyes fluttered open, and when he saw you looking at him, a sleepy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Wow. Good morning beautiful girl," he murmured, his voice rough from sleep, but there was a warmth in it that made your heart swell. A sleepy smile pulling on his lips as he took you in. You smiled back, your fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on his chest. 

"Good morning," you whispered back with a bit of a giggle. For a moment, neither of you moved, content to just be there, wrapped in each other’s warmth. But then Jude shifted, rolling onto his back and pulling you with him so that you were lying on top of him, your faces inches apart. His hands found their way to your ass, his touch gentle but firm as he held you close.

“God, I really fucking missed you, angel” he whispered, his eyes searching yours as if to make sure you knew just how much he meant it. You felt a lump form in your throat at his words, and you nodded, leaning down to brush your lips against his in a soft, lingering kiss. 

“I missed you too.” You whispered, your lips ghosting over his. Jude smiled against your lips, his hands sliding up your back, pulling you even closer. 

“You know,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “I’m not sure I can ever let you out of my sight again.” He cooed. You giggled, your heart fluttering at the way he was looking at you, so full of love and something deeper, something unspoken but understood. 

"You don’t have to," you whispered, resting your forehead against his. "I’m not going anywhere." He let out a soft chuckle, his hands tightening around you as he kissed your temple, then your cheek, and finally your lips again, slow and unhurried. 

“Good,” he murmured against your lips, his voice filled with a mix of relief and contentment. You laid there for a while, tangled up in each other, the world outside the window fading away as you reveled in the warmth and comfort of simply being together. The city noise hummed softly in the background, but in that moment, it felt like it was just the two of you, wrapped up in your own little bubble. As the minutes passed, you found yourself unable to stop smiling. It felt surreal, having him here, waking up next to him after so much time apart. You could feel the love radiating off him, in the way he touched you, in the way he looked at you like you were the most precious thing in his world. Eventually, Jude broke the comfortable silence, his voice playful as he whispered in your ear, “So, what’s the plan for today? Staying in bed all day sounds pretty good to me.” You laughed, burying your face in the crook of his neck. 

"That doesn’t sound too bad," you admitted, feeling the familiar comfort of his embrace. But then you lifted your head, looking into his eyes with a soft smile. "Although… Maybe we could go get some coffee… please.” You smiled with a childish smile. Jude raised an eyebrow, his smile widening before he began to tease.

"You can’t mean from your kitchen?" He mocked you a little. You grinned, nodding.

"It’s one of the few things I take pride in making in that kitchen.” You added, leaning in to kiss him again. Jude’s laughter rumbled through his chest as he kissed you back, his hands finding their way back to your waist. The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, continuing to cast a golden glow over his bare chest. Your fingers absentmindedly traced the contours of his skin, feeling the steady, reassuring beat of his heart beneath your touch. His arms were wrapped around you, holding you close, as if neither of you could bear to be apart even for a second, even for coffee. Not yet. You lifted your head slightly, catching his gaze, and the emotions that had been building up within you—emotions you had kept locked away—finally rose to the surface. A seriousness washed over the room. 

“I love you,” you said, your voice trembling slightly with emotion. “I’m pretty sure… from the very first moment we made eye contact, I knew this would be the kind of love that could destroy me.” You unintentionally frowned.  The words came out softly, but there was a weight behind them, a truth that had been waiting too long to be spoken. Jude’s eyes darkened with emotion as he processed your words. He reached up, gently brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek as if grounding you both in the reality of this moment. His touch was gentle, but the look in his eyes was intense—like he was feeling everything just as deeply as you were. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling beneath you, and you could feel the gravity of what he was about to say. 

“I know,” he whispered, his voice low and full of raw emotion. “Looking back… it’s been a little like a hurricane, innit? Something so powerful that you can’t control it, even if you wanted to.” He cooed. You nodded, your throat tight as you remembered all the moments you’d shared, the highs and lows, the intensity of it all. It had been overwhelming at times, but as Jude said, it was like a force of nature—uncontrollable, inevitable. He held your gaze, his eyes softening as he continued, “But we can weather any storm, hmm?” He hummed and you nodded. “I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. You were patient with me… and for that, I’m so thankful. You’re everything I could’ve ever wanted—everything I never thought I’d be lucky enough to have.” Hearing him say those words—words you had waited for, words you hadn’t known you needed so desperately—made your heart swell. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away, smiling through the emotion that threatened to overwhelm you. You laid your cheek back down on his chest, letting the warmth of his skin soothe you, the steady thrum of his heartbeat a comforting rhythm beneath your ear. It was quiet, and peaceful, but the love between you was louder than words could express. His hand stroked your back, sending gentle waves of comfort through you, and the quietness of the room felt sacred, like nothing outside of this moment mattered. You felt so safe in his arms, like this was where you were meant to be all along. As if this love, intense and unrelenting as it was, had finally settled in a way that felt whole.

“I’ll never stop loving you,” you whispered against his skin, your voice muffled slightly by his chest. “Not for a second.” Jude’s arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer, like he never wanted to let you go.

 “Please don’t,” he whispered back, his voice soft but firm. “I love you, angel.” The depth of the words hit you both, but then, as if breaking the tension, you let out a soft, breathy laugh. You lifted your head, meeting his gaze again, this time with a lightness that hadn’t been there before. Jude’s lips curved into a smile as he looked at you, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “What?” he asked, his thumb brushing over your cheek. You smiled, shaking your head slightly, but you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up again. 

“I don’t know,” you admitted, feeling a little giddy now that everything was out in the open. “It’s just… we finally said it. We’re finally saying we love each other.” Jude chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he pulled you closer. 

“I know,” he said with a grin. “Little overdue, no?” You nodded, biting your lip as you laughed. 

“Yeah, about time. Honestly, it was so hard not to say it before. There were so many moments when I just wanted to blurt it out.” You shyly smiled thinking of all the times you almost said it, almost typed it. 

“Oh yeah? Like when?” Jude raised an eyebrow, teasing you.  You thought back to the many times you had come close—so many little moments, like when you’d see him smile, or when he’d do something kind without thinking. 

“I don’t know,” you said with a smile. “All the time, really. When we were lying in bed like this, or even when you were just being yourself. I just wanted to text it to you out of the blue.” You explained. It felt like the phrase was a nervous tick. Jude laughed at that, his chest vibrating beneath you. 

“Yeah?” He asked, interested. You giggled, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. 

“Yeah, but I chickened out every time. Sometimes I wasn’t sure if you deserved to know. If I wanted you to know.” You confessed. He shook his head with an amused grin, his hands running up and down your back soothingly. 

“That’s fair. Probably didn't deserve it. But, I’m glad you finally said it now.” Jude told you. You lifted your head again, meeting his eyes with a smile that mirrored his own. 

“Me too.” You muttered. Jude leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours in a tender kiss. When he pulled back, he whispered against your lips, 

“I’ll never make you wait for anything again. Not another kiss, not another second of knowing how much I love you.” He mused and you smiled, your heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. 

“Never?”  You giggled. 

“Never,” he promised with a grin, sealing his vow with another kiss. And for the first time, everything felt right—no more waiting, no more wondering. You were in love, and you both knew it, and it felt like the most beautiful thing in the world. The only thing you could really focus on was Jude, holding you so close you felt like you were sharing the same heartbeat. His arms had stayed wrapped around you the entire night, like a protective cocoon you never wanted to leave. You felt safe, cherished, and loved. You stretched lazily, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, but even as you moved, Jude’s arms never left you. Instead, he stayed close, almost glued to you, his chest pressed to your back as if he couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go. You smiled softly to yourself, that familiar warmth spreading through your chest.

“Okay, so I was serious, I really need coffee” you muttered groggily as you slowly made your way toward the kitchen. “But you’re in for a treat. Mon café du matin”  ['my morning coffee'] Jude hummed lowly, the sound reverberating through his chest. His lips brushed against the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. 

“You already treated me pretty well last night,” he teased in a hushed tone, a playful smirk in his voice. A small laugh escaped your lips as you shook your head. 

“I meant with my coffee, Jude,” you said, glancing back at him with a teasing smile of your own. “But I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” He chuckled again, his breath warm against your skin. 

“Oh, I definitely did. But you know, I could get used to this as well… and definitely that,” he added, his arms tightening around you briefly before he loosened his hold just enough to let you move freely.

“I agree,” you admitted softly, your voice quieter now as you reached for the cabinet to grab your french press. “I’m not ready to leave this little bubble we’re in yet.” You glanced down at yourself, still in his oversized shirt that barely skimmed the tops of your thighs. Jude was just in his shorts, and the sight of him so comfortable and relaxed only made you want to stay in this moment forever. Jude leaned back against the kitchen island, his eyes following your every move. 

“I’m not complaining,” he said with a grin, his gaze heavy as he watched you reach up into a cupboard. The shirt lifted slightly with the motion, revealing a glimpse of the curve of your ass and you could practically feel his eyes on you. As you stood on your tiptoes, trying to grab the coffee grounds from the top shelf, Jude moved toward you, his large frame effortlessly closing the distance between you. He pressed up behind you, his chest warm against your back as he reached over your head. “Here, let me help,” he said, his voice a low murmur in your ear. His fingers brushed against yours as he took down the coffee grounds, his touch sending a small thrill through you.

“I could’ve gotten it,” you said, though there was no real protest in your voice. His closeness was something you’d never tire of. You turned slightly, giving him a playful look.

“I know,” he replied softly, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “But I like helping.” With a small smile tugging at your lips, you turned back to the counter, setting up the French press. You worked quietly, enjoying the comfort of the moment, the smell of freshly ground coffee filling the air. Jude leaned against the island, still watching you intently, as if you were the most captivating thing in the room and you were to him. 

“I can help, you know,” he offered again with a grin, his hands resting on the counter as he leaned forward slightly. You waved him off with a teasing smile. 

“You can help by staying right there and looking pretty,” you quipped, your voice playful but affectionate. His grin widened, his eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief. 

“I can manage that.” You reached up into another cupboard for the milk frother, but once again, it was just out of your reach. Jude was behind you in an instant, his hands gently guiding yours as he grabbed it for you. “You really don’t use this kitchen.” He laughed teasingly. “I’ve got you, angel,” he whispered softly, his breath warm against your neck, and it made your heart flutter. You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face was undeniable. 

“What would I do without you?” you teased. 

“I don’t know,” he replied, his voice full of mock seriousness as he handed you the frother. “Probably suffer in silence without my help.” You laughed softly, shaking your head as you finished preparing the coffee. You frothed the milk carefully, the warm, creamy foam rising perfectly in the cup, and finally poured the coffee, the rich, dark liquid filling the air with its inviting aroma. You handed Jude his cup with a satisfied smile, and he accepted it, his fingers brushing against yours for just a moment longer than necessary. He took a sip, his eyes still locked on yours. 

“Perfect,” he murmured, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small, appreciative smile. “But I think watching you make it was the best part.” You rolled your eyes again, playfully this time, but you couldn’t help the warm flush that spread across your cheeks. 

“You’re so full of shit,” you muttered under your breath, though there was no real bite to your words. Jude placed the coffee cup down on the counter and pulled you into his arms once more, his hands sliding around your waist. 

“And yet you love me,” he whispered, his voice low and filled with affection. You leaned into him, resting your head against his chest, your arms wrapping around his waist. 

“Yeah,” you murmured softly, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I really do.” The two of you stood there for a while, wrapped in each other, the world outside the apartment feeling like a distant memory. It was just you and him, in this quiet, perfect moment—your own little bubble where nothing else mattered. And in that moment, everything felt exactly right. Jude took another slow sip of the coffee, savoring the taste with an exaggerated hum of approval. 

“Wait a minute,” he said, his voice tinged with mock seriousness. He set the cup down with a dramatic thud and raised an eyebrow at you. “Why have you never made this for me before?” You giggled, taking a small sip from your own cup, pleased that he liked it. 

“Oh, I mean,” you waffled, “It’s not that I was purposely withholding good coffee from you.” Jude leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, a playful pout on his lips. 

“Feels like I’ve been slighted,” he said, tilting his head as if genuinely offended. “This is really good coffee.” He explained as if you didn’t know. You laughed, shaking your head. 

“Well, you don’t have a French press in Madrid, so it wouldn’t be the same,” you explained with a small shrug. “Plus, these beans are from my favorite cafe in France, so… it’s kind of a special treat.” Jude’s expression didn’t change; instead, he squinted at you in mock offense. 

“Oh, look at me, my coffee is European,” he said, throwing his hands in the air dramatically, his voice bouncing around the kitchen. He heightened his voice into a thick, exaggerated version of your accent and mimicked you in a teasing tone. You scoffed and rolled your eyes at him, feigning annoyance, though you couldn’t help the smile creeping onto your face. 

“You’re actually so annoying.” you said, brushing past him toward the sink. But just as you tried to walk by, you felt a sudden tug at the hem of your shirt, pulling you back. Jude wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling you against his chest as he slid his hands under your shirt, his fingers trailing lightly over your bare skin. His touch sent a small shiver up your spine, and you melted back into him instinctively.

“If I promise to get you a French press,” he murmured against your ear, his voice low and filled with playful affection, “and I find these fancy Parisian coffee beans—” he paused to squint at the label on the bag you’d left on the counter, “Café du something or other—will you make me this coffee again in Madrid?” You couldn’t help but laugh at how serious he was pretending to be. You leaned your head back against his chest, letting his warmth envelop you as you smirked. 

“If you promise to get the Maison Flaneu French press.” You stressed the brand. “and the coffee beans, then yes,” you said, turning your head slightly to catch his eyes. “I’ll make it for you whenever you want.” Jude’s grin widened, his eyes lighting up. 

“Deal,” he said, and before you could say anything else, he leaned down to press a kiss to your neck, his lips lingering just long enough to send another shiver through you. You smiled to yourself, feeling that familiar warmth in your chest as he held you close, the two of you wrapped in this perfect moment. The teasing, the affection—it all felt so right, like this was exactly where you were meant to be. And as you stood there, with Jude’s hands still resting on your skin, you knew that no matter where you were—New York, Madrid, maybe even Paris—moments like this would always feel like home. As you sipped your coffee standing at your kitchen island, Jude caught you off guard by asking if he could go to work with you. You laughed, nearly spilling your drink, teasing him lightly, 

"I wasn’t even planning on going to the gallery today, but if you really want to, I’ll take you." You explained. Jude, however, was adamant. 

"You’ve been to where I work a hundred times," he said, a slight smile playing on his lips. "I want to see where you do your thing. I’m interested." It was an unexpected request, and it warmed your heart to see how curious and involved he wanted to be in your world. So, with a soft smile, you agreed. You both got ready for the day, heading out into the crisp Manhattan morning, you in a brown cropped cardigan, Jude in a cream jumper. The ride over was quiet but comfortable, both of you lost in your thoughts. The city buzzed with its usual energy as the Uber wound through the streets, finally pulling up outside the gallery district on the west side. When you arrived, Jude leaned forward, squinting through the car window at the sight of your last name engraved in elegant gold lettering on the plate outside the gallery entrance. He clicked his tongue, impressed, a low whistle escaping him. 

"Damn, okay" he murmured, a playful grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Your name in gold, huh?" Before you could respond, Jude was already out of the car, rounding it quickly to open your door. He reached for your hand, helping you out with a small smile that made your heart swell. His hand felt warm, grounding, and as you straightened up, he kept your hand in his, but didn’t let you walk toward the gallery door just yet. Instead, he tugged you gently back to him, his eyes soft but serious. "Wait a second," he said, and there was something in his voice that made you pause, looking up at him expectantly. Jude gazed at you, and for a moment, the noise of the city, the bustling streets, and even the fact that you were standing outside your gallery all faded into the background. It was just the two of you, standing there, and the look on his face told you he was about to say something important. "Have I ever told you how proud I am of you?" he asked quietly, his voice low and sincere. His eyes scanned your face, searching for your reaction. "I mean, I always knew you were amazing, but standing here… seeing your name on that plate… I don’t know, it just hit me."  You blinked, taken aback. Your breath caught in your throat as his words settled in. 

"Jude…" you started, but he wasn’t done. He stepped closer, his hand now gently squeezing yours. 

"You’re incredible," he continued, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "I don’t think I’ve told you enough how much I admire what you do. This place—it’s yours. You’ve built this yourself, this career, and I just… I’m really proud of you, angel." There was a vulnerability in his eyes, a rare moment where he let the layers fall away completely, showing you exactly what he felt. It wasn’t just admiration. It was awe. He was in awe of you—of everything you had achieved, everything you were. It felt special that you had a building of your own. You felt a lump form in your throat, your eyes stinging with the sudden threat of tears. Jude had always supported you in his own way, but his job seemed to take importance so hearing him say it like this, with such honesty, struck something deep within you. 

"You… you don’t know what that means to me." Your voice wavered as you spoke. Jude smiled softly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from your face. 

"I think I do, I know footie feels like the biggest thing in the world sometimes around me but it's not. I know how important this is, how hard you’ve worked," he murmured, his thumb lingering on your cheek for a moment before dropping back to his side.  For a second, you stood there, caught in the overwhelming emotion of the moment. The pride in his eyes, the sincerity in his voice—it was everything you didn’t realize you needed to hear. You swallowed hard, blinking away the tears that had gathered, and gave him a small, watery smile. 

"Come on," you said, your voice still thick with emotion, "let’s go inside." Jude smiled back, his hand slipping around your waist as the two of you finally made your way into the gallery. But the words he had said outside stayed with you the entire day, a warmth that filled your chest, reminding you just how deeply he understood and valued you. As you stepped inside the gallery, Jude spun slowly, taking in the large white space adorned with the current exhibition. His eyes wandered from the walls to the art and then back to you. A small, proud smile curled at the edges of his lips. He was trying to take it all in—the breadth of what you’d created.  You tried to play it modest, shrugging as you noticed the small line of people forming outside the entrance. There were appointments scheduled for the day, gallery tours, and more. It was busy, but in a way that felt fulfilling. Still, you felt the need to downplay it, like you weren’t completely running an entire space that was clearly a success. "So, what do you think?" you asked, trying to keep it casual. Jude turned his attention fully to you, his eyes soft but filled with pride. 

"It’s incredible," he said. "But of course, it is. You’re behind it." You blushed, laughing it off, 

"You’re just saying that because you’re in love with me." You told him. He gave you a cheeky grin. 

"Maybe. But it’s still true." He cooed. You gestured for him to follow as you began showing him around the space, pointing out the different pieces on display. Jude nodded along, listening as you explained the curation process, the artists you’d chosen, and the themes that ran through the exhibition. After a while, you glanced over at him.

"Want to see my office?" There was a playful lilt in your voice, and Jude raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Your office?" he repeated, as if he hadn’t really considered the fact that either of you had what could be classified as an ‘office job.’ You rolled your eyes at his reaction, teasing. 

"Yeah, someone’s got to actually run this place. You think it just happens on its own?" You giggled and he followed with a chuckle, then tilted his head, giving you a curious look. 

"I guess I never really thought of it like that." He smiled. You led the way, and Jude followed closely behind, his arms suddenly slipping around your waist from behind. He rested his chin gently on your shoulder as you walked, and for a moment, you felt the warmth of him against your back. It was comforting, grounding, like he was anchoring himself to you—and you to him.

"You know," you continued, your voice soft, "I feel like more of a figurehead these days. There’s a whole team that keeps things running day-to-day, but I still have to occasionally show up and make the decisions. Keep the place alive but I keep finding myself out of the country in Spain." You teased. Jude squeezed your waist gently, his voice soft in your ear.

"And Spain really likes when you’re there. Any county is very lucky to have you. Any man even more so, angel. But you’re doing more than keeping it alive. You’ve built something amazing. You should be proud." The sincerity in his words made your heart ache in the best way. He was seeing you in a way that felt so validating, so true. You’d spent so long doubting whether you could balance everything—your career, your relationship with Jude, your life in New York—and hearing him acknowledge your success like this was overwhelming in the best way. You reached the office, a modest but well-decorated space tucked away at the back of the gallery. Jude looked around, impressed. It was your sanctuary, filled with art books, framed photos, and personal touches that made it distinctly yours. You could see the wheels turning in his head as he took it all in, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

"Not what you expected?" you asked, turning to face him. He grinned, leaning against the desk, arms crossed over his chest.

"I don’t know what I expected. But this… this is pretty perfect, like an extension of your apartment, you in a room." You smiled, leaning into him, and for a moment, there was a comfortable silence between you. Jude lifted his hand to your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across your skin. "I know I keep saying it," he murmured, "but I honestly am so fucking proud of you. Seeing it first hand is just different." Your breath hitched, the sincerity in his eyes making your heart flutter. You didn’t respond with words—you didn’t need to. Instead, you leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, letting the moment speak for itself. You giggled, catching Jude’s attention. 

"Can I show you my favorite part?" You asked with a glint in your eyes. He nodded eagerly but with a hint of confusion, glancing around the small office. 

"Uh… sure, but where? I feel like we’ve already seen everything." Smirking, you leaned back against what looked like a solid wall, but with a gentle push, it gave way, revealing a hidden door. Jude's eyes widened in surprise before bursting into laughter.

"Why do you have that?" he asked, still chuckling in disbelief. You shrugged, grinning. 

"The previous owners of the building had it installed. Figured I’d keep it for secret escapes." Without further explanation, you led the way through the hidden door, which opened to a small, bright staircase. Jude followed behind, his curiosity piqued. The stairs were narrow and led up to the roof of the building. As you reached the top, the cool New York air hit your skin, and you stepped out onto the rooftop. It wasn’t the highest rooftop in Manhattan—not by a long shot—but there was something undeniably beautiful about it. The surrounding buildings framed a small slice of sky, and the quietness of the tucked-away street made the space feel like a secret oasis in the bustling city. You turned to Jude, watching his expression as he took it all in. "I come up here for everything," you said softly. "To think, to drink, to have friends over. To escape when I need a breather... to paint." You paused, your voice dropping a little. "To cry, lately." Jude’s heart shattered at your admission. He hadn’t realized how much you’d been carrying on your own since the fallout between you two. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He held you close, his chin resting on your shoulder again as he swayed with you in a gentle rhythm, offering comfort the only way he knew how.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered against your ear. “For all of it.” He murmured. You closed your eyes, feeling his embrace sink into you.

"It's okay now." You whispered back to him. The thing was… you actually thought it was okay. The warmth of his body against yours felt like home again, the weight of everything that had happened finally starting to lift. Jude kissed the top of your head softly.

"Do you think I can add something to the list of things you do up here?" He asked you gently. You turned slightly, curiosity lighting up your face. 

"What’s that?" You asked. He leaned in, his eyes locking onto yours, and you knew before he even said a word. He closed the space between you, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was soft but filled with everything he couldn’t say. You felt the love pouring through it—the promises, the apologies, the commitment—and you melted into him, letting it wash over you. When you finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you smiling. “That’s a very good addition.” You giggled. In that moment, surrounded by the city, it felt like the world had paused for just the two of you.

After you left the gallery, you walked down the busy New York street, hand in hand with Jude, it was all bizarre. It was like every step, every glance around felt charged, and you were acutely aware of how the world seemed to stare at him—or maybe at the two of you together, more than ever. If people didn’t know he was the Jude Bellingham, they certainly noticed the way he commanded attention—tall, striking, and beautiful in every sense of the word. His presence was magnetic, and you couldn’t help but glance up at him too, still in awe of the fact that he was here, beside you. You felt lucky. You didn’t want to be anywhere but with him. You reached a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change as you nestled closer into him. Jude responded instantly, pulling you tighter against him with a gentle sway, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your hair. It was one of those moments that felt too perfect, too intimate to be happening in such a bustling city. The world around you blurred, and it was just you two, back in your little bubble again. But then, his voice cut through the comfort of the moment. 

“Come back home.” Jude asked you quietly.  You pulled back slightly, your brow furrowed, trying to make sense of what he was asking.

“Jude, this is my home,” you gestured around, pointing to the towering buildings and streets filled with life. But you kind of pouted. The sentence felt wrong. This wasn’t your home, it hadn’t felt that way for awhile. Jude was your home but nevertheless laced with fear of really committing, you told him otherwise. “New York is my home.” He shook his head, a soft but sure smile tugging at his lips as he looked down at you. 

“Your home should be with me.” His words sank into you, deeper than you expected. His voice was steady, filled with an unmistakable certainty. “Anywhere can be home if we’re together.” His hands found their way to your waist, his fingers pressing gently into your skin as he leaned in, his lips just ghosting over yours. “Please,” he whispered, his voice a mix of longing and vulnerability. Your heart fluttered, your chest tight as the weight of his request settled. This was what you had been craving from Jude all along—his honesty, his willingness to fight for you, to make it clear that you belonged with him, that he needed you. “I’m not asking you to stop working with the gallery, I wouldn’t do that. I know how important that is, I told you how proud I am for doing just that but… angel just come be with me. Please. I don't want to be apart right now.” Jude unintentionally pouted. His heart sinking at the idea of being apart again, something that had definitely crossed your own mind.

“Okay.” You whispered softly. You bit your lip, the corners of your mouth lifting into a cheeky smile as you nodded. You couldn’t say no. You didn’t want to say no. His eyes brightened at your answer, a quiet relief washing over his face as he pulled you even closer. This was the side of Jude you had been waiting to see, the side that wasn’t afraid to take control, to tell you what he wanted. And in that moment, you knew that you’d made the right decision. You wanted this, you wanted him.

As you and Jude boarded the private plane bound for Madrid at JFK, exhaustion weighed heavily on you. You really hadn’t been sleeping much at all because of Jude. Before he arrived you couldn’t sleep because you missed him. Now, you couldn’t sleep because you were staying up fucking all night. Tiredly, you clung to Jude, both of you in sweat sets, your arms loosely wrapped around him as he effortlessly carried your smaller pieces of luggage onto the plane. The coziness of your clothes, the intimacy of the small gestures—it all felt like the home you were looking for except you were on tarmac. Once on board, Jude, ever the drama queen, made a show of dropping onto one of the plush seats, pulling you down with him in a clumsy, playful tumble. You giggled tiredly, the sound soft and content as you nestled into him, your body melting into his as if it belonged there. After a few moments, you started to shift, slinking off Jude to pull your jumper off in a sluggish attempt to get comfortable. But as you did, the fabric snagged on your shirt underneath, pulling it up with it and exposing a lot more of you then you were anticipating; revealing a tantalizing glimpse of your skin and the lacy black bra that barely contained your generous cleavage. You sucked in some air, your eyes widening as you realized the unintended striptease. Jude's eyes widened comically, his hand darting out to dramatically yank the shirt back down as if you were flashing a stadium full of people. 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he teased, covering you up with an exaggerated flourish. "This is a private plane, angel, but it’s not that private." You couldn’t help but laugh at his antics, the tiredness fading away for a moment as you swatted his arm.

"Relax, Judey, it's just you and me." You cooed mischievously with a wink. He grinned, still playing up his faux alarm. You’d be lying though if you said your heart didn't race. You glanced around, hoping none of the cabin crew had witnessed your accidental exposure.

"Exactly, and I know how I get when you're taking your clothes off. Gotta make sure you don’t strip down completely." You rolled your eyes, sinking back into his side, feeling his arm wrap protectively around your shoulders.  Jude's eyes sparkled with amusement as he looked down at you after your predicament. "Well go on then…if you want to take your clothes off f’me, take your clothes off f’me.” He winked, his gaze burning into you. 

"Oh, really? Now you want to see? And what if I don't feel like putting on a show for you right now?" Feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment and arousal, you tried to play it cool. Jude's smile turned devilish. He pressed a button, and the cabin crew appeared, ready to assist. 

"Actually, we won't be needing anything for a while," he said, waving them off. "If we could just have a few minutes, we’d like some privacy." The attendants nodded discreetly and retreated, leaving you alone with Jude and your growing desire. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "Now, take that shirt off f’me, baby. Let me see you." Your breath caught in your throat as you surrendered to his request. Slowly, you raised your arms, your fingers deftly peeling your top up over your head until you and your black lace clad tits were exposed. Your nipples immediately hardened in the cool air, begging for attention. Jude's eyes darkened with hunger as he feasted on the sight of your naked body. "Fuck, you're gorgeous," he growled, reaching out to cup your heavy breasts in his large hands. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. You moaned softly, arching into his touch, your inhibitions melting away. He unclasped the bra and the fabric fell. 

"Please, Jude," you whispered, your voice hoarse with need. "I want you so bad." He leaned in, capturing one taut peak between his lips, sucking gently while his fingers pinched the other, eliciting a delicious moan from your lips. His tongue teased and flicked, driving you wild with desire. You squirmed against him, your core throbbing and aching for his touch.

"You taste so fucking sweet," he murmured against your sensitive flesh as his hands ideally pulled down your joggers. "I want to taste all of you." Before you could respond, Jude's mouth trailed kisses down your stomach, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.  “Let me see more of you.” Jude looked up from beneath you, his eyes locking with yours, and he gave you a wicked grin.  He gently pushed your legs apart, his breath hot on your inner thighs, making you tremble with anticipation. You knew what was coming, and you couldn't wait to feel his talented mouth on more of you. You whimpered, your body already on fire, as Jude's fingers gently parted your folds, exposing your glistening pussy. He leaned in, his warm breath tickling your sensitive skin, and then his tongue swiped slowly through your slit, making you gasp.

"Oh, fuck Jude," you cried out, your fingers gripping the plush seat as he teased your clit with the tip of his tongue. He took his time, licking and sucking, driving you closer to the edge with each pass. Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of his mouth, more of his skilled touch.

"That's it, angel," Jude encouraged, his voice thick with desire. He delved deeper, his tongue thrusting into your wetness, finding your sweet spot with ease. Your body trembled as he devoured you, his hands gripping your thighs, holding you open for his pleasure. Even as you tried to close your legs he pinned them open. 

"I'm gonna cum, Jude! Shit!!” You felt white hot pleasure begin to course through you. You were practically shaking but Jude held you tighter to him as he ate you out. Your voice hoarse and desperate. The sensations were overwhelming, and you felt your orgasm building, tightening every muscle in your body.  “I love you, oh my god fuck I’m cumming!” Jude increased the pace, his tongue working feverishly, driving you over the edge. You climaxed with a shout, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over you. He didn't let up, continuing to lap at your sensitive flesh, drawing out your orgasm until you were reduced to a trembling, satisfied mess.

"You wanna be a good girl f’me?" he said, his voice rough with need. You nodded as your breathing slowly returned to normal, Jude rose, his eyes smoldering with desire. “You’re so fucking hot, baby.” Jude moaned as you traded places with him, beginning to work kisses down his neck. You kissed at his chest and slowly started to get onto your knees in front of him. “Fuck you’re perfect.”  You eagerly slid off his joggers your hands trembling with anticipation as you freed his straining erection. His cock was thick and hard, pulsing with each heartbeat. You stroked him gently, reveling in the feel of his velvety skin and the warmth of his length in your hand. His breath hitched as your hands wrapped around his hard cock.  "Suck my cock, angel," Jude growled, his eyes never leaving yours. "Show me how much you want it." He told you. You needed no further encouragement. You wasted no time, immediately leaning forward, you took the head of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the sensitive crown, tasting the salty pre-cum that beaded at the tip. Jude groaned, his hands tangling in your hair, guiding you as you took more of him into your hot, wet mouth. You bobbed your head, taking him deep, your throat welcoming the invasion. Your hand pumped the base of his shaft in time with your movements, and you reveled in the power you had over this gorgeous man. Jude's breath came in harsh gasps as he fought for control, his hips thrusting gently to meet your rhythm. You moaned again around him, the vibrations just about sending Jude over the edge. You hollowed your cheeks and forced yourself to take more of his cock down your throat. Spit pooled in the corners of your mouth as you gagged a little around him.  “Fuck, good girl, just like that” Jude groaned. His words making your pussy throb. He started to twitch in your mouth as he hit the back of your throat continuously "Baby, you're gonna make me cum," he rasped, his body tensing. You redoubled your efforts, sucking and stroking, determined to bring him to the brink. Jude's hands tightened in your hair, and with a guttural groan, he spilled in your mouth, his hot cum shooting down your throat. You opened your mouth for him to see his cum dripping from your tongue before you swallowed eagerly, relishing the taste of him, milking his cock until he was spent. You opened your mouth again to show him how good you did. He smiled and shook his head in disbelief as he pulled you off him slowly and brought you back up to him. As he recovered, Jude pulled you up for a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue tangling with yours, sharing the taste of his release. "That was fucking incredible," he whispered in between kisses, his eyes burning into yours. "I need to feel you around me now." You straddled his lap, guiding his already re hardened throbbing cock to your entrance. With a slow, torturous descent, you sank yourself down onto his length, your body welcoming the fullness. Eliciting a deep moan from both of you. Your eyes fluttering closed from the stretch. Jude's hands gripped your hips, helping you set a relentless pace, your tits bouncing with each thrust. "You feel so good, angel," he groaned, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. "Ride me, ride my cock." You obeyed, your body moving in a sensual rhythm, your core clenching and releasing around his hardness. The cabin was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and your erotic moans as you both chased the pinnacle of pleasure minute after minute.

“Fuck! Ffuck Jude, I’m gonna cum. Shit baby, you feel so good, oh my god.” Your head collapsed onto his shoulder as he relentlessly thrusted up into you as your high barrelled towards you.  You could barely speak from how good he felt. 

"Cum with me, baby," Jude urged, his voice hoarse. "Let go. Be a good girl and cum on my cock." Your body tightened, every nerve ending on fire as you spiraled towards ecstasy. Jude's hands cupped your tits, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples, pushing you over the edge. Your stomach tightened and your walls fluttered as you came. You cried out, your body convulsing around his cock as you climaxed, your juices flowing freely, coating him with your essence. Jude followed suit, his cock throbbing and pulsing within you as he emptied himself deep inside you. You collapsed against him again, your hearts pounding in unison, the taste of victory on your lips as you joined the exclusive Mile High Club for the first time with him. You snuggled against Jude, your bodies still entwined, satiated and blissfully content.The plane hummed softly around you, the gentle noise blending with the quiet rhythm of Jude’s breathing. You sighed, resting your head on his chest, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours. 

"I can’t believe you got me like that from me just trying to take off a jumper.” You shook your head very aware there was no possible way the cabin crew didn’t hear you. Jude shrugged as if it was no big deal. “Oh my god…You're such a loser," you muttered teasingly, your voice muffled against his chest. It wasn’t ‘no big deal’ to Jude and you knew that.

"And you love it," he replied, kissing the top of your head. You smiled against him, your exhaustion finally winning out as you settled deeper into his embrace. As the plane glided through the air leaving New York behind, you knew with Jude by your side, Madrid—or anywhere else for that matter—felt like home. You smiled against him, your exhaustion finally winning out as you settled deeper into his embrace. As you lay in Jude’s arms on the plane, the hum of the engines lulling you into a comfortable calm, you felt safe. It was the kind of peace you’d been yearning for after everything you two had been through. Half way through the flight you began a quiet conversation. But as Jude brought up Aurélien’s party, his tone was tentative, pulling you out of your thoughts. You nodded, shifting slightly to look up at him, 

"Yeah, I heard about it. He texted me." You tried to keep your voice light, sensing the unease creeping into the conversation. Jude knew you’d spoken but you didn’t know he knew that. Jude winced, and you noticed how his hand tightened a little around you. There was something weighing on him.

"Didn’t know you even had his number," he said, awkwardly trying to navigate the conversation. His voice was low, careful. Your brow furrowed, confusion mixing with a bit of concern. 

"He gave it to me after we chatted on Instagram. Neither of us really use the app that much, so it was easier. It wasn’t a big deal, baby." You explained. Both of you felt like you were fast approaching an eggshell ridden path. He nodded slowly, clearly still unsettled. His eyes flickered with something you recognized — jealousy, maybe insecurity. Jude had never been good at hiding how much he cared, and even now, with everything back on track, that worry still lingered. 

"Did you two talk about more than the party?" Hesitantly, he asked. His voice was softer, like he was afraid of the answer. Your stomach twisted a little. You didn’t want to lie, but you also didn’t want to hurt him, especially not now, when things were starting to feel good again. Still, honesty was what had made things so rocky and if you were going to rebuild this relationship, you couldn’t hide anymore. You shifted in his arms, not quite meeting his eyes. 

“We… might have talked about the party maybe more than we should’ve,” you admitted quietly, biting your lip as you tried to gauge his reaction. You could feel his body tense beneath you, and the silence that followed was deafening. He swallowed hard, his jaw tightening slightly as he stared at the ceiling of the plane. 

“What does that mean?” he asked, his voice betraying the emotion he was trying to keep in check. He didn’t want to ask — you could tell — but he needed to know. You exhaled, feeling a little scared of where this was going. It was arguably more uncomfortable considering what happened hours earlier in the flights.  

“I mean… it wasn’t anything serious, but I don’t know, you probably wouldn’t want to hear about it.” You tried to sound as casual as possible, but the weight of your words hung in the air between you. Your vagueness seemed to make things worse. Jude’s grip on you loosened slightly, and he let out a shaky breath. 

“What was it then?” He asked. Jude couldn’t figure out what emotion he was meant to feel. You hesitated, knowing that whatever you said next could either calm him down or make things worse. 

“It was flirty I guess,” you admitted, your voice small. “But I swear it didn’t mean anything. I was hurt, and I guess I just needed a distraction.” His face darkened slightly, but he didn’t say anything right away. His eyes were searching yours, trying to figure out if he could handle this, if he could trust that it didn’t mean anything more. You could see the struggle in him — the way he was trying to push down the jealousy, the hurt, the insecurity. 

“I really don’t like the idea of you talking to him like that. I really don’t fucking like the idea of him talking to you like that,” he finally said, his voice tight but not angry. He was holding back, trying to be understanding, but you could feel the weight of his words.

“I know,” you whispered, placing a hand on his chest. “And I’m sorry. But it wasn’t real, Jude. It was just me trying to cope, trying to fill this void that I knew only you could fill.” Jude closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before looking at you again. 

“I get it,” he said softly, surprising you.  You wrapped your arms around him tighter, resting your forehead against his chest. You sat there remembering bits of your conversation you had initially sat in your wardrobe with Aurelian that had moved into your bed that night. The weight of everything you were feeling mixed with the warmth of the champagne you had decided to drink that night, you found yourself slipping into a conversation that felt easier than it should have. Aurélien messaged you about his party, the mundane logistics of the night quickly turning into something else. The champagne had loosened your thoughts, made them flow in a way they normally wouldn’t. You weren’t actually interested in him and Aurelian at the end of the day wasn’t interested in pursuing you. You both weren’t really going to cross that line, but flirting was flirting. He knew maybe it was just to get your mind off things but you knew the moment the conversation shifted, there was a danger in it—but the loneliness inside of you craved something, anything, that would make you feel less empty. Aurélien mentioned how excited he was for champagne that night, and you had laughed, replying with a comment that surprised even you. 

‘I have to be careful with Dom Pérignon… I always get a little too friendly after a few glasses.’

You had thought it would stay light, a harmless joke. But then he replied…

‘No man in the world would ever complain about you being too friendly. Especially not me.’

You blinked at the message, your stomach turning in that way it does when you know you’re toeing the line, but you didn’t stop. You didn’t pull back. Maybe it was the champagne, or maybe it was the hurt that had been building for the past month, but you kept the conversation going. The truth was, in that moment, you loved the attention. You weren’t used to being seen this way by anyone other than Jude lately, and with the state of your relationship then, you had felt starved for affection. The cynicalness of it being Aurelian made it all the more enticing. 

‘I doubt that.’

You had typed back, fingers moving quickly across the keyboard as you laid in your bed, the alcohol making everything a little hazy. 

‘It feels like there are oceans between me and anyone remotely interested in being ‘friendly’ with me.’

You were, of course, thinking about Jude. How distant things had become. But the conversation wasn’t about him anymore—it was about you and Aurélien and this strange tension that had been building between you two in the shadows of your messages. But you didn’t want to stay in that uncomfortable place, so you made another joke, something to shift the tone. 

‘But it’s fine, I’ve got Dom Pérignon in bed with me tonight, and that will have to do.’

His reply came almost instantly. 

‘Dom Pérignon is one lucky man.’

You remembered lying there, staring at your phone, your heart beating a little faster, not because of Aurélien exactly, but because of what this meant. You were crossing lines, even if nothing physical was happening. You were venturing into emotional territory that you didn’t even fully understand. You had craved the connection, but when you put your phone down that night, a small part of you knew you were just trying to fill a void that only Jude could fill. The guilt didn’t set in right away. In the moment, you had felt a strange sense of validation, a thrill that someone was paying attention to you when you had felt so invisible for so long. But as you lay there in the dark, the champagne buzz slowly fading, reality crept in the same way it was on the plane right now.

🪩🫶❤️‍🔥🍹🌞🍒 Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🍒🌞🍹❤️‍🔥🫶🪩

Next part - Chapter 13 - The Grand Palais xx

[georgiapeach30513]

Two Good Reasons, Part 2

Summary: The truth comes out

Pairings: Andy Barber X Reader

Rating: mature

Warnings:  language, mentions of cheating, mention of fertility issues, depictions of depression, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4K

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*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Your leg bounces up and down when you look at your phone. You are late. And knowing Scott, he’s going to use this against you. You rarely went out. But this…

You look down at your clothes. His clothes. What else were you supposed to do but grab his button up, and some sweats. It still smelled like him, and you’re swooning. You can still feel him in your body. On your body. He didn’t just fuck you, he made sure to implant his entire soul in you, and it leaves you longing for more. Things with Andy have always been good enough for one time.

It was beautiful, and perfect, and just like how you would imagine seeing him again. But you can’t want him. Your life is a mess, and you can’t bring him into it. You give a nod to the Uber driver as you get out of the vehicle. Your heeled shoes oddly matched with his clothes, and make too much noise as you walk up the front steps.

Walking into the house, you’re met with Scott glaring at you. You don’t answer. You want to see your babies. But he makes a show out of looking at his watch. “You’re over an hour late.”

“Sorry, I ruined your Sunday morning, Scott.”

“And what the hell are you wearing?” His hand gestures down your body, and you feel your cheeks flare up in anger more than embarrassment. Like he had any room to talk. He smirks. Reaching across the counter to slide your wallet towards you. “The District Attorney dropped this off for you. Guess I know whose clothes you’re wearing. My god. How can you be so fucking stupid?”

“I’m stupid? How’s Taylor? Your twenty-three year old fiancé? She’s just waiting for the damn divorce to be finalized, huh?” He hates when you bring up the engagement, or her age. Hell, everyone could tell she was young. Most thought she was younger than twenty-three.

Scott takes a deep breath. His fingers tap on the counter. “If you give us the house, I won’t fight you for full custody.”

Your eyes immediately well with furious tears as you stare at the man that you loved so much. You gave up everything to give him the family and home he wanted. The only thing you couldn’t give him anymore was children. Taylor could. He made sure of it. Plus her boobs weren’t droopy from breastfeeding. Her hips weren’t wider from bearing children. Her hair wasn’t thinner because you gave to your babies.

“Why are you always crying? My god, we’ve been over this. You’re getting alimony. Why do you need this house?”

“Why do you?” you counter immediately.

He sighs, shaking his head, “Because we’re going to have a family. You’re — not.”

“You son of a bitch. You're bargaining my kids for this ugly house? You think you have a leg to stand on for full custody?” This is the thing that infuriates you most about Scott. He was a good father, but now that the veil has been removed, you see that his children were more of a show for him. Something to talk about at meetings. Brag about when Audrey got into the best Pre-K in the city. Not because he actually enjoyed them. That was you.

“I have a career. You have…”

“I was your wife, and their mom, nurse, teacher, friend, entertainment, cook, maid,” you would do it all again to spend time with them. Them. It pains you knowing that Suede is at a center, when with Audrey you spent every waking minute with her.

“Yeah, I get it. You did all that for me, but that still doesn’t mean anything. I paid for this house. I’m the one that makes the money.”

“Get out,” you answer blankly. Don’t argue with him outside of the courtroom. That’s what your cheap lawyer told you. Don’t give him ammunition to take your children away. He wanted you to stay at home. He wanted you to not use your college degree. He wanted you to give everything for the family.

“We’re not finished. I am trying to negotiate things with you. Especially since you’re running around sleeping with the DA. You think that’s going to actually help your case? Seriously?” Of all the things to say, this was the worst. To think he thought so little of you that you would sleep with someone that could leverage the case. He’s an ass. But he also knows about your Andy. Too bad, he didn’t realize they were the same person.

“Andy is not just the DA,” Scott looks over your features, and your mouth turns up into a smile. Is he really lecturing you about sleeping around? At least you chose someone that was more than a tight body and big tits. You chose someone you loved, could see a future with. And you were pushing him away, “Andy is an old friend.”

“You bitch,” you shrug, starting to walk backwards towards your children who should be taking a nap. “Are you fucking kidding me. That’s — you — don’t tell me you fucked him so…”

“Mommy!” You shoot him a glare as Audrey comes running down the hallway. Jumping into your arms, and you hug her so tightly. “You smell nice,” you hope Scott hears her. You weren’t into playing games where your children are concerned, but you hope he feels even a tiny prick of the pain you felt when you found him fucking Taylor in your bed. “Me and Suedey missed you.”

“I missed you, too, baby. You want to go get Suede, so you guys can tell daddy, bye?” She furrows her brows, while she looks at you confused. “Baby what is it?”

“It’s nothing. Audrey, go get Suede,” he gives her a little wink, and you place her back on the floor, and turn to look at him. “It’s nothing.”

“If that woman was in my house again, so help me God, Scott,” it’s the one thing you hated. Her being here. Of course you didn’t want them at her apartment either, and neither did Taylor. It was too small and they caused a mess, which is why overnight stays with their dad were few and far between.

“She doesn’t like being alone.”

“And the agreement was for her to not be in my dwellings. This is my dwelling.”

“And it should be ours! You don’t even want it. You hate it here. You’re just doing this because you don’t want Taylor and I to have it.”

“I’m doing this? Who is the one that said you won’t go for full custody if I give you the house? Taylor put you up to that?” Scott stops his retort as a swollen eyed Suede comes waddling into the room, and you lift him up. “Why is he snotty? I was gone one night, why is he snotty?” You hate being that mom, but with Suede, you have to be careful.

“He petted Trixie,” you look up at Scott dumbfounded. “It was just for a little bit and then…”

“Audrey,” Scott warns, and you want to throw things at him, and scream. She did nothing wrong. She is the child, and he is the adult. “Come give me a hug. I need to finish talking to your mom," you let your chubby toddler waddle off to his daddy. And Audrey gives you a lingering look before grabbing her brother’s hand. Apologizing as she drags him to the play room.

“It wasn’t a big deal.”

“He’s allergic to cats.”

“I gave him a Benadryl. He’ll be fine.”

You hate him. It isn’t much to ask for Taylor not to be here. And for her not to bring her fucking cat. “And what happens if she feeds him something with eggs?” Scott looks at the counter, and you wonder if he ever regrets getting involved with her. He’s the type of man that will force something to work. Because you didn’t stand for cheating, so he didn’t have another option.

“What happens if she gives him walnuts? Or milk? Or…?”

“Or gives him shell fish? Or strawberries? Or pineapples? Or whatever made up bullshit you have for him. She’s a kid and doesn’t know how bad his allergies are.”

You stare at him, and let him think about his fucking words. Seething because he sure knows how to piss you off. This was a good day. You stared at Andy’s sleeping body for too long before you tiptoed around his bedroom. Having sex so many times exhausted him now. “You’re right, she’s a kid. And had no business being with you. But our son’s health is not made up. I held his body when the nurse pricked his skin forty times, and he was wailing in my arms, and not understanding why his mommy was forcing him to do this. Don’t tell me it’s fucking made up Scott. Get out.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Get out. Leave. I can’t even look at you. This isn’t the you I married. You would never put our children’s health at risk,” he continues to stand there. Opening his mouth a bit, but you’re tired. You’re sore. And all you want is to play with your children. “I don’t need you to ask me if I’m going to use this against you. Yes, when it comes to my children’s lives and their safety, you’re damn straight I will make sure my children are alive to see another day, and not because some tramp thinks Seude’s allergies aren’t that fucking serious. Get. Out.”

He bites his lip before spinning on his heels quickly. You watch him walk out of your house, and life again. Sniffling when you lock the door. You take a few deep breaths before you have to put on your mommy shoes. It isn’t easy being a mother. Especially a single mother. It’s not easy seeing the man that you built a life with walk away so callously. To see him building a life with someone younger. Someone who can give him what he wants.

Someone who didn’t spend months and months on fertility treatments that made her feel like her skin was crawling. Like her mind was shattered. Having to schedule sex, and hope and pray that it will work. All the useless damn pregnancy tests that were always negative. Stressed, and trying to be what he wanted, only to find him fucking the babysitter, while your children slept in the next room. And it was your fault you caught them, you got back home early.

Scott didn’t even begin to understand stress. He could never understand the ups and downs your mental state went through just trying to give him what he wanted. You had Audrey and Suede. One of each, you weren’t greedy. But everything you ever did was always for him. Put on a smile when you’re hurting so bad internally. Smiling to the neighbors because everything was perfect. And you had a perfect home, and inside you were screaming because that wasn’t happiness.

The only happiness you currently have is your kids. They’re enough. They’re the reason you wake up every morning, and take them to the nursery school. They’re the reason that you get excited that Audrey wears a little uniform now that she’s in Pre-K. They put a smile on your face everyday. And those hard days when they test your every patience, and you are the one that has to be the positive one and get them in the bed, but who takes care of you?

You wanted a family and a partner. Someone that would team up with you, and take some of this load off. Someone that could entertain the kids, while you had one hour to yourself, just so you can take a bath and read. You wanted someone you could trust to be around your kids, and you’re wondering where things went wrong with Scott. Yeah, you’re sure he was stressed, but what about your stress? You’re the one who didn’t even enjoy sex anymore because it was a chore. And you did it for him.

Gods, Andy wasn’t a chore. Minus the ache in your core, that you know is going to be there for awhile. Bruised, raw, stiff, sore, and stretched. He fucked you, and fucked you so hard and deep. But then — later in the night, he kissed you. He kissed you so hard that your body prepared for him in seconds. You craved him. But he didn’t fuck you. He pushed into your warmth so slow that you knew he was making sure your body memorized him. That wasn’t fucking. That was claiming. It was euphoric. It was making love, and hoping that his body can make you change your mind. He still wants you.

That is what you want with sex. Not to just lay there, and let them take what you want, while you count the cobwebs on the ceiling. But Andy didn’t deserve whatever is going on between you and Scott. Andy deserves the world. He always has.

It isn’t anything, really. Just the average separation, and fighting for custody that Scott didn’t deserve. But you want to be divorced. You want these conversations to be done with. You want him to man up, and just be the part time dad. It’s what he was anyways. But you made it clear that Andy had you for one night. And even now saying it out loud, you hate yourself. But it’s the right thing to do. Because had Andy been present for this, his usual calm and collected demeanor would have been tested.

“What are you two doing?” You jump around the door, and both kids squeal. Suede gives a few strides before he’s crashing into your legs. “Bubba, I think you’re going to have to get your nose cleaned out at bathtime.”

“Nope. Me pay Sis,” he hates getting his nose cleaned out, and you hate that he has done it enough to know what you’re talking about.

“Mommy, I didn’t mean to get daddy in trouble.”

“Shh,” you sit on the floor, and pull her close to you. Kissing on top of her head, and she fumbles around with her little figurines. “The important thing is you told mommy that Suede was around something that can make him sick. That’s called being a good big sister, okay?”

“You promise?”

“I do,” and you curse Scott for making her worry about a grown man. It was something Scott wouldn’t have told you. Bending the truth because Suede was fine. Audrey, your strong sweet girl, knew it was wrong, and knew it could make her brother sick.

“Can we go to soft play tonight?” You look at her confused. Scott said that he was going to take them there with Taylor. Since she was supposed to be here. “Daddy said that they were closed. Do you think they’re closed today?”

“No, baby. They’re not today,” you always had to go with Scott’s lies. Taylor never wanted to do ‘baby things’. You wondered how that was going to work when she had children of her own. “You think mommy can take a shower with the door open and you and Suede not get into trouble?”

“Can we get ice cream, too?” She gives you a devilish grin, and you nod your head with a smile. “Are you going to use your bathroom?”

“No, I’ll use yours. That way I can still hear you, if you need me,” Audrey isn’t dumb. She knows you’re lying. In reality you couldn’t use yours and Scott’s bathroom anymore. It had the beautiful tub that was part of the reason you and him decided on this house. You couldn’t even sleep in your bed. Not after they defiled it.

You knew that was the real reason, and still you made excuses as to why you slept on the couch. Your favorite was to make sure nobody came through the front door. Whatever lie helped you sleep at night. Maybe you should just give Scott the house. But it’s the principle of the matter that he used your children as leverage. You want him to pay, and you want him to be their father, you want them to have a good relationship with him and Taylor, and you want things to not be so fucking difficult. You never get what you want.

You remember the most beautiful parts of your marriage. Audrey in a world of her own, while Suede goes from watching her to rolling his cars around. They were your sanity. Your saving grace, and the only reasons you’ve survived thus far. Your thumb trails over your naked ring finger. You didn’t realize you would miss it so much. But was it the ring you missed or the husband you had? You can’t even think of Scott in the same way as before. He sullied your relationship and has proven too often that Taylor is more important than your everything’s.

“So,” Sloane says as Andy walks past you and into Ransom’s office. You didn’t question why Andy needs to meet with him. It goes with the territory and the less you know the better off you are. “Big dick daddy doesn’t pay you any mind anymore?”

You choke on your coffee as you glance up at her. How the hell would she know about Andy’s dick or your involvement? “I mean, the man prances around the courthouse like he’s got a dick made out of lead. Acts like he owns the whole court system. And for a while, he always made a point to ask you for coffee, or dinner, or brought you pastries. What did you do?”

“Nothing,” you go back to your work. Sloane could be a nosy woman. Always digging for more information. And even now, she’s eyeing you like you’ve done something wrong.

“You when I think that things changed?”

“Nope,” you sigh, but she sure is going to tell you. Andy respected your wishes for just one night. But you hoped that he wouldn’t. And you know you’re acting silly. There was this part that is bigger than you really want to admit that hoped he wouldn’t give up on you. Because maybe once things are settled with Scott you might consider it.

“It might have something to do with his celebration of another year as District Attorney, and the two of you not so casually leave together. You kinda forgot your car here,” your fingers freeze, and you look up at her curiously. “You two left out the door together, and your car was here? Seriously?”

“I had a flat tire.”

“No, you didn’t,” there isn’t another way you can lie, so you just sit at your desk, staring at her. “So how was it? I’m assuming that you had sex. You’ve got kids, you’re not a virgin. So why not? Is he as big as people think?”

“People talk about his dick size?”

“Not just talk about his dick size, but have tried to break his impenetrable force field of his private life. And you come in here, and everyone is envious because he immediately showed interest in you. Why?” Her eyebrow cocks up, and she smiles. “Keep your secrets. Cause I know you fucked him, and I know now that he barely even looks at you. So either you told him how it was going to be, or…”

Her voice trails off as she walks away from your desk, “Or what?” That sounds ominous, and you didn’t want an or. You want to know that Andy doesn’t hate you. But what could make him hate you that much? The only thing would be, “Scott…”

—

“Stop moping,” Ransom rolls his eyes, but Andy is so far lost in thought it annoys Ransom. “You’ve been like this for a couple of weeks,” Andy ignores Ransom, stirring his coffee. “What’s wrong, your highness?”

“Your office manager.”

“Was the sex that bad?” Andy looks up at him confused. Scrunching up his brows, while he wonders when Ransom thinks he had sex with you. “You two weren’t subtle. She was all giggly, and you were dragging her out the door. Liquid courage I guess. Not to mention, Sloane said that her car was here once everyone left. Office hookups are severely frowned upon, but you needed laid. But I guess…it was bad.”

Andy shakes his head no. “And we had agreed on sex while she was sober,” you were sober. And cute. And flirty. And Andy was not going to miss an opportunity. Until he found out you are married.

“How romantic. Now, since the sex was good, let’s get to work.”

“She told me that I could only have her one night. We have a bit of a history, you see,” Ransom rolls his eyes, twirling his hand and motioning Andy to speed up the conversation. He didn’t care what kind of history you had. He just wants the conversation to end so he can get down to business. “She’s married.”

Ransom shakes his head no, and leans to reach in a bottom drawer of his desk. Grabbing up a file folder, he drops it on the desk in front of Andy, and he pulls it towards him. Opening up the folder, he reads through it, and looks at Ransom, holding his breath. “Yeah, that’s a petition for full custody of her kids from her wonderful estranged husband, Scott Huffman. Her working here wasn’t just because she needed a job. She actually went to college to be…”

“A CPA. I’m aware. We have a history.”

“And didn’t know about her legal separation?” Ransom is annoyed. Ransom hates getting off track. There is a schedule, and Andy isn’t sticking to it. “Her lawyer is one of the cheapest ones. She needs new representation, and for some godforsaken reason, I pity her. Scott doesn’t need his kids full time. He’s got him some blonde that’s too young for him, but he’s got the money. She was a stay at home mom, and she deserves her kids, so I’m trying to make that happen. And no, you cannot intervene. You actually met him didn’t you? Scott?”

“I’ve met him in court a few times.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. Don’t get involved. She’s not married. Well, she’s legally separated. So if that’s what the issue is, get over it,” Ransom is sometimes way to blunt, but it’s the reason Andy admires him. His pension for being a spoiled brat helped him be a better ADA. “That fucker is still calling her his wife isn’t he?”

“Yeah. Men like him love to show that they still own her. Using her kids against her, no doubt. But,” Andy holds his hands up in surrender. He knows Ransom can see right through him concerning this situation. “I won’t interfere.”

“Was her pussy that good?”

“It was always that good, but it was never about the sex,” he meets his eyes before he closes the folder, and extends it to Ransom. He misjudged the situation. And then he probably has been making you feel like a wet hole by ignoring you these past couple of weeks. “God, I'm an idiot.”

”Yeah, now if you can stop ignoring her, and go back to your obvious shameless flirting. It sounds like the two of you, if you want a future, need to fucking talk. Just like we’re supposed to be doing.”

Ransom is right. About a lot of things. He pushes the urgent need to talk to you aside. He wants to apologize for ignoring you, and even the horrible things he thought. He wants to understand what really happened in your marriage, if you want to talk. He wants to let you know that you have a friend in him. Not just a sexual need. He cares about you. And knowing that a ruthless man is trying to get full custody of your children, sickens him. Scott worked too many hours to ever need those children.

But mostly, he wants to know the new you. The one you kept hidden, and the one that grew up and created a new life. He wants to know that you are okay. And that you have someone with a steady head to lean on. He wants you. He always has. And he’ll be whatever you need. If you’ll let him.

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