#and seeing her try to get away is kinda upsetting

[steddieas-shegoes]

good or bad

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'the good, the bad, and the ugly'

and a very special thank you to @thisapplepielife for letting me play in her sandbox again with gareth and di. this is your quarterly reminder to go read Tuesday's Gone With the Wind. you can enjoy this fic without it, but you'll appreciate it A LOT more if you have the backstory.

this is also my 500th work on ao3! of the 15+ years i've been in fandoms, it is kinda crazy to think this is the one that made me go so feral i have over a 1.25 million words written about these characters (mostly steddie).

rated m | 903 words | cw: referenced past drug use/abuse | tags: established relationships, therapy, marriage

👎🏻👍🏻👎🏻👍🏻👎🏻👍🏻👎🏻👍🏻👎🏻👍🏻👎🏻👍🏻👎🏻👍🏻

Gareth knows he doesn’t deserve her, but Di is sitting next to him at this therapy appointment, holding his hand, acting like he does.

She just does these things, he doesn’t even have to ask. In fact, she’s the one who scheduled this. He’s doing good. He thought he was doing good.

“Gareth?” His therapist smiles at her office door, beckoning him inside. “Di! Nice to see you, honey. You doin’ good?”

“Doin’ just fine, Lynn. Take care of my guy, okay?”

Lynn nods and Gareth isn’t sure what to say. He walks into the office and gets comfy in his usual chair.

“Soooo,” she starts. “What’s got Di so concerned that she called me herself?”

Gareth shrugs. He genuinely doesn’t know. He’s been going to his meetings, his doctor appointments, his physical therapy. He’s been in Eddie’s studio having fun, no pressure.

“She mentioned something about some missing cash,” Lynn suggests, trying to get him to talk about stuff.

Oh.

Well, Di is right to be worried about that, for sure. But not because of the reasons she or Lynn may suspect.

“Ah.”

Lynn smiles. “I’d love to hear more about where the missing cash went missing to.”

“Well, it’s simple. I owed a guy a lot of money. You can imagine how a guy who you used to buy the best shit from might get a little upset when he finds out how much money you have and he’s still in the red,” Gareth explains. “All settled up now. Won’t hear from him again. I did call my sponsor about it as promised.”

“But you didn’t tell Di.”

Gareth shakes his head. “No, we agreed I could call the sponsor for anything that wasn’t a relapse.”

“But you see why she might be concerned you’re keeping something from her, why she may be worried about a relapse.”

Gareth sighs, nodding. “Yeah, I guess I should’ve thought of that.”

“I’m sure if you just explain it to her, she’ll understand. Was this guy threatening you in some way? What made you feel pressured to settle your debts now?”

Well, realistically, he could’ve ignored the guy. Probably turned him in to the cops or something, put him away for a long time, if not forever. Wouldn't be $4600 poorer, even though that $4600 is nothing in the grand scheme of things.

Wouldn’t be sitting in Lynn’s office on a random Tuesday because he made his wife think he relapsed.

“He’s the only one who has dirt on Eddie that I’d rather not see the light of day,” Gareth admits. “God only knows what he has on me.”

“I see,” Lynn nods in understanding. “Well, do you wanna tell Di or leave it?”

“I’d rather tell her. If she’s so worried.”

“Do you wanna do it here or at home?”

“Home. I think it’ll be better in private.”

Lynn nods and offers to let him talk for the rest of his scheduled session, but he doesn’t really need to. He is doing good right now.

****

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he says as Di chops some onions for dinner. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“Sorry I jumped the gun,” she replies, turning to smile at him. “I trust you. I just…I didn’t want this to turn into something more.”

“I’m glad you called her,” Gareth walks up behind her, wraps his arms around her waist, buries his nose in her neck. She laughs, stops chopping so she can settle her hands on his arms. “He’s a shitty guy. I know he would’ve leaked some stuff on Eddie and he doesn’t deserve that. He’s doing good, but he’s still…you know.”

They all worried more about Eddie. He was doing okay most of the time, but he still gets in these moods where no one, not even Steve or Gareth, can get to him. He just lays in bed for a couple days, sulks around the house, and then he’s okay again. It’s hard to watch. It’s a bit of a red flag, honestly.

But as far as they all know, he’s never turned to using during those periods.

“Do you wanna talk about what he’s got?” Di offers, but in the way she always does, where he knows she won’t push.

“He saw Eddie at his worst. You know he never cheated on Steve,” Gareth takes a deep breath. “But there was one time when he did a line off a woman’s stomach. He threw up after. This guy had pictures of it all. Plus stuff I don’t even know about and don’t wanna know about.”

“So you were protecting him.”

“Yeah. I’d do the same for any of them.”

“I know,” she sighs, kisses his cheek, turns back to start chopping again. He doesn’t move, just rests his forehead against her shoulder. “And you know even if it was something worse, I’d be here for you.”

“Yeah,” his voice comes out shaky. He’s doing good, but he knows if he weren’t, she’d still be with him. She’s waited for him through everything, she’s supported him in the times when he least deserved it. She always will. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she says. “Can you stir the pasta?”

“Yep.”

He kisses her shoulder and does as she asked. He’d do anything for her, just as he does anything for him. Good or bad, she’s got his back.

[secretaccountlol]

hi i love your mohawk mark fics and im invested and curious about his character.

would you mind sharing with us some more ideas about your characterization of him? what’re his civilian clothes like? what’s his relationship with his dad? does he turn on humanity in the future? what music does he listen to?? or whatever you want really

take care!!

Eeek yess !! I’d love to talk about my verison of Mohawk!

Well.. first this fic came to me in a dream; so I kinda added it on from there? Haha.

In general, I would say in a weird my Mohawk is softer than his canon part, he’s not one dimensional.

For example my Mohawk is a big mommas boy. He doesn’t care for too many people to be honest. She’s the MOST important person he cares about; that includes her opinions,

Does he particularly care to be a hero? No.. not truly. But it makes his mother proud, and that’s enough for him..

That and also proving his father wrong.

See the fight between mark and his dad, happened in my au. But instead of mark being upset that he’s trying to inslave everyone.. he’s more annoyed on why he should give over earth to some random alien fuckers he doesn’t know?? If he’s gonna take over earth, (he’s not just.. doesn’t care too— too much work!) they’ll be his own slaves! Why would he bow down to any fuckin empire!

His father challenges him ofc, advising mark that he doesn’t even care for these peoples why does he care if anyone comes and takes over? His life wouldnt change!

Nolan insults him, telling him how his own mother is afraid of his apathetic view on life and humans, how he had little care for anyone out of his little social circle,

but that nolan saw it as a strength, not something to be afraid of, something showing him he is a true vilturmite. He’s not a “hero” a “good” person what ever these silly ideas humans, including his own mother, made up

This did upset him,, his mom .. is the only one who truly cared about, knowing deep down she’s scared of him? Of what he might become? Makes a bit of him die.

Nolan spewed more bs like his mom was a pet…which at that point mark is pissed.

The fight goes the same like canon where Nolan feels bad and flys away… mark is left beaten to a bloody pulp. And that’s kinda where we are.

If I make more parts I’ll expand on how he feels about his father but Debbie and mark.. try not to talk about it. It’s too painful, and he could never confront his mom about what his father said.. that she’s scared of him.

He kills him inside because she’s rightful. She does have a reason, if Nolan didn’t say all that terrible shit about Debbie, he ..maybe would have gone along with it, in time. She now has a better reason to be scared because he is Nolan’s son.. a man who spent years on this earth only to betray it, and his family. Whose to say he won’t do the same?

But he also her son.. he will do the right thing. Or atleast try.

He feels like he needs to prove his mom right, and prove his dad wrong,

Even if .. his heart isn’t fully in it, he can’t break his moms heart again like that.

Loving one evil man is bad enough, but raising an evil one as well?

That could.. be too much for her.

Mmm. So I would say he’s good for semi selfish reasons. He kinda has a heart but he’s..antisocial haha. He likes to make his own path, has a loose moral compass which mostly hinges on if his mama would be upset if she found out what he was doing.. though sometimes he does it anyways (aka like stalking reader)

He’s happy he got his powers but he gets annoyed that he has all this responsibility but takes it to the chin since that’s “just what I gotta do.. I guess”. Very lasckadaisy .

Though if he never got his powers he would just be a slob, have a bad relationship with his mom and probably start a band some real artsy shit. He could be smart if he applied himself, but he won’t so.. he’s not crazy smart either.

Okay now for fun stuff lolol.

What music would he listen to ? (..tbh anything I would listen to haha) like

ICP (insane clown posse) and MSI (mindless self indulgence), but I think he would enjoy rap like Eminem and rave music like S3RL (occasionally) and breakcore.

Stuff that’s raunchy.. and murderous in nature chaotic but.. he could get down with some laufey..

What can he say? He loves good music, doesn’t matter the genre though he does have favorites.

I think his fashion is very.. British punk. His pieces clearly have a lot of thought put in them, though he styles them as a “effortlessly fashionable” way. Yk that guy who always looks sharp but doesn’t look like takes 1 hr to get ready (spoiler alert..he does) he DIY a lot of his jackets and patches.

He’s partial to monochrome fits, mostly if not always black. He does do pops of color though. Like red, purple, blues.’ But never too flashy. Doesn’t care to draw more attention he already gets his fill being a hero. (Though doesn’t super care if people stare at em)

Okokok backing up a bit.

So you know how I said he would be a slob if he had no powers?

Yeah..well he has powers so.. he cares about his appearance. Debbie beat that into him, when he started expressing himself.

“If your gonna dress like that, make sure it actually looks..good.”

Though I don’t think she understood punks aren’t suppose to “look good” but whatever

He did take it heart, always clean, trimmed his body hair meticulously, fresh hair cut always. He also had exceptionally clean skin.. like not a lick of acne, if he does get one pimple or breakout he gets really pissy about it. He also.. can’t STAND ingrown hairs, how can something on his body piss him off so bad!

To be honest.. I don’t know if he’ll turn on humanity yet.

Maybe he will maybe he won’t.. reader will also help decide in that maybe?

They’re very similar in the way of “idc what happens to the world as long as it doesn’t effect me and my mom”

Okay.. sorry for yapping LOLOL I hope I answered some of your questions!

Here are examples of his clothes

[riteliso]

There's upsetting layers to this.

An aspect of it is certainly that she wants to manipulate Micah by complimenting him and gassing him up, but given some of the ways we see heroes treating her proximity to Micah later, as well as her quite literal "lust for power,"

I think maybe we're supposed to read it as a common theme with her. She ruins people, and I think at least one of the METAPHORICAL ways, one of the ways it's supposed to MIRROR, is sexual abuse.

She draws children away from other sources of comfort or safety, and has them do what she wants them to do. She compliments them when they do what she wants, and subtly insults them or insults what she doesn't want them to do to keep them in check.

She ticks every checkbox for someone who sexually abuses children. Again, I don't necessarily believe that in canon she abused these children in this way, but I believe that her relationships with these children and how people see and treat those relationships as outsiders looking in or remembering what she had done is meant to mirror those dynamics.

One of these days you're gonna run outta railings to perch on when you feel mopey

She's doing really bad.

Scorpia has also consistently pushed her boundaries over the whole course of their relationship and I think it's starting to have exceptionally diminishing returns, making her more tempted to close off further than to open up.

Thing is, she doesn't have anyone else to talk to. So she's kinda stuck with her. So when something's really bothering her,

And at the next roadblock, no matter how tiny, she redraws even further.

In She-ra you get to watch every scrap of hope a goth girl has in her heart for the people around her to not make her feel worse with every single word any of them ever says die.

Catra needs this not to be about her and nobody's letting that happen.

I don't know if it's more merciful to be honest and keep challenging her on it or if it'd be nicer to let her live in her own little Catra world where she can feel her feelings as hard as she wants without ever needing to examine or address them.

While she's willing to accept when Scorpia can tell she's lying and ackgnkowledge it, she's not willing to go any further. This is still a lot of progress for her, as sad as that is.

But immediately, she runs away. No more questions will be answered tonight.

Here she mirrors what Catra just said, but the contexts are very different.

Catra is speaking to her friend, an equal, someone who it's appropriate to speak with in times of emotional duress.

Shadow Weaver is essentially ranting her hurt feelings at a small child, one who isn't even related to her. Even if she's not intentionally doing it to garner his sympathy to prepare yet, it's not-- appropriate.

It's a difficult thing to communicate. It's good to be honest with children, but children are innocent. There's ugly parts of our lives we need to protect them from as adults. Shadow Weaver, a wine mom without wine, doesn't take the time to collect herself. She doesn't even try.

Look, I'm a heavily biased source on how I can communicate this, due to my upbringing. I don't know how to translate what I'm about to say, even though I know SOME aspects of it are universal. As a child I feared emotion deeply. Any time an adult felt anything but joy-- or even if they felt too MUCH joy, it scared me a ton. It's also why you shouldn't let kids see you drinking. When you are around children, you should be acting completely in control of yourself. Not just because of what impaired judgment might cause you to expose them to, but also because seeing authority figures act in ways they don't understand is fucking horrifying.

Also she casually throws a lightning bolt next to two random small children which is also something I consider discomforting to see a grown adult do

This is really quite miserable.

Catra comes in trying to play it cool, trying to lord it over Shadow Weaver, trying to threaten her, trying to get a reaction.

She doesn't get anything.

She tells her she's going to die unless she gives any info worth keeping her alive fore.

She doesn't get anything.

She doesn't want Shadow Weaver to die.

Even if it weren't for Shadow Weaver's back-up plans, Shadow Weaver isn't as convinced.

Shadow Weaver did all she could, never took a breath that wasn't selfish and cruel, and now she's going to die on the floor like a pet who's owners were too cowardly to euthanize it so that it could avoid some small amount of suffering before the end.

She says she gave everything she had to the Horde, but she didn't. She never had anything to give. She doesn't create. She never did. She takes. She destroys.

SEASON 2

Hey sorry to everyone who hates how long that last post is when you're looking for fanart and shipping tidbits instead of a dissertation

But here's another

Shut the fuck up

ALRIGHT SO

we cold open on violence and fighting to bring us back into the setting, and we're quickly introduced to a miscellaneous status quo change that throws some people off

Frosta is nice now

Some people I've seen, it throws them off enough that the show kinda loses them, and I can understand that.

This is a show that lives by strong character writing, so an immediate tonal shift DOES feel strange. I'm not gonna deny that, and I'm not gonna say that the version of Frosta we get for the next little while isn't my least favourite version of her.

I think we end UP with a happy median. Where she's childlike, but she takes things seriously, and doesn't like to be talked down to. That's why she makes such a good character foil for Micah. I personally believe that's her at her best, but she also had a very strong introduction, so I can't BLAME people for getting attached to that version of the character, and disappointed when they take things in a different direction.

It's strange, and it's something that this show doesn't really-- DO. I get that it can be explained away in universe with her putting on a brave and uncaring and rough exterior for the ball she was hosting, but we also literally JUST saw her at the very end of season 1 and she was acting the same.

It's not a bad change, this version of her is fine, but it's unusual and in a perfect world the transition between the season 1 version of her and the version we end up with as the character gets more depth would have been smoother.

The splash screen is still the same >:(

I don't remember when they start changing I was hoping it'd just be once each season (with one exception) so that it'd be easy for meeeeeeeeee

Now I have to pay ATTENTION

UGH

VOICE DIRECTION

First off, it's odd that this isn't the first time that we've had a fake Catra.

Secondly, she sounds weird here in a way that's kinda hard to explain. She sounds kinda like a caricature of herself, which makes sense?

It's a tiny detail. But it kinda falls flat on your first watch because we just saw Frosta acting weird, anyway.

As with all holodecks in sci-fi, this one's primary use is lesbian sex

Also it's an amazing fight scene, I won't show YOU the frame-by-frames, but they're good frames

The amount of times she will be fighting Catra and we get to see her expression soften the moment she gets ANY amount of upper hand

If you pay enough attention to take a shot each time you'll be more of a wine mom than Shadow Weaver

We hear this in not strictly Catra's voice, it's distorted, because it's Lighthope speaking THROUGH Catra, not just EMULATING Catra.

Lighthope wants this cat dead. I mean I don't blame her I just don't agree with her reasoning of "I want this cat dead so that this lesbian follows my orders better"

Yeah :(

Also I don't believe her when she says it's meant for total accuracy

I think it's probably PRETTY accurate

But also it's based off of ADORA'S memories which is why Catra actually has the troublepuffs to hold her hand instead of being a whiny little baby.

Somehow Adora is under the impression that Catra is brave which is fucking insane

She's not brave she is just filled to the brim with unimpeded violent hubris

Catra thinks that the point of the myth of Icarus is that "at least his wings melted from the sun and not the sea"

Also it's been a month take note

Not for any particular reason, it's just good to know how long these breaks in time are

Girl me too and for equally stupid but very different reasons

As we learn later they weren't mistakes they were being a decent fuckin person

Do you think when nobody's around Catra puts on the glasses and kisses this robot

Or does she not because she doesn't like She-ra she still just likes Adora

You are such a pathetic show-off

MOUSE

Nah but fr the fear of stepping on a mouse is too real I don't wanna FEEL THAT

PEOPLE JUST POINT AND LAUGH AND SAY IM AN ELEPHANT WHEN I TELL THEM THATS MY REASONING

She really is bored

She needs a hobby besides vengence

Y'see when they actually fight she gets into such a slump and she's so ANNOYING about it

The moonstone is super-charged by the way

It doesn't hold much relevance and I guess that shows that due to the princesses uniting all of their powers have improved

Everyone is a bitch and they all hate each-other

[awordchemist]

Guinea pigs are such wriggly little nuisances. Like, I would give anything for her to understand what I'm saying. "Please stop trying to turn yourself into a pretzel so that you can hide your face from my syringe in this towel. I promise this is for your own good because I am not having a good time here either."

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

Heeeyyyyyy can you do one with all the batboys but the scenario is that your making out with them and then all of a sudden someone walks in and it’s like a funny awkward moment P.S I absolutely LOVE ❤️ your writing ✍️

“We’re kissing in the bathroom,Girl.I hope nobody catch us,But i kinda hope they catch us.”

Batboys x reader : getting caught making out

Request by @jakiicomics,My first ask ever!!! Thank you 💛💛my asks/requests are open

Bruce Wayne

Bruce is not the kind of guy who’s careless in public… or private.

But when he lets himself go — really go — it’s intense. He kisses like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. And he rarely lets anyone see that side.

So when the door swings open (probably Alfred, Lucius, or a poor intern), you both freeze.

He does not scramble. Just slowly pulls away from your lips, adjusts his cufflinks, and calmly says:

“Do you mind?”

The same way he’d say “You’re bleeding on my rug.”

If it’s one of the boys walking in?

“This is a private moment. Learn to knock.”

Straight-up dad mode, but deadly.

You’re flustered. Bruce is steely calm. But the second the door shuts?

Back against the wall.

“Now where were we?”

⸻

Dick Grayson

Dick is hands in your hair, lips on your neck, pulling you into his lap—zero restraint. The second someone walks in? He yelps. Actually lets out a full panic noise and yanks a blanket over both of you.

“HELLO?! EVER HEARD OF KNOCKING?!”

If it’s a sibling (Tim or Damian):

“Get out. Out. OUT. Don’t look at her—stop looking at her!”

You’re laughing. He’s red from his ears to his collarbone.

Tries to salvage his cool later:

“Honestly though, we looked good. Like hot. You know? Right?”

Refuses to go near that room for at least a week.

⸻

Jason Todd

It’s steamy. It’s heavy. He’s groaning your name against your mouth.

And then—

“Hey, has anyone seen my—OH COME ON.”

Jason whips around, shields you with his body, and goes full older-brother rage mode.

If it’s Tim:

“TIM. GOD. LEARN TO READ A ROOM.”

Throws a pillow at whoever it is. Possibly a shoe.

“You’re lucky she’s too sweet to kill you. I’m not.”

You try to calm him down but he’s grumbling for 20 minutes.

Makes up for it later. Thoroughly.

⸻

Tim Drake

Tim is already a mess when kissing you. His hands shake a little, he forgets to breathe, and you’re sure he short-circuits every time your lips part.

So when the door swings open mid-makeout?

He jumps three feet, falls off the couch, and takes you with him.

“AHH—SHUT THE DOOR! SHUT THE—DON’T LOOK AT HER!”

Apologizes profusely even though you did nothing wrong.

“I swear I locked the door. I double-checked! I think. Maybe I hallucinated locking it—”

Goes into hiding afterward. Probably under a hoodie. Possibly in a tech lab.

You have to reassure him you’re not mortified.

“It’s okay, Tim. They barely saw anything.”

“They saw my soul leave my body.”

⸻

Damian Wayne

Damian kisses with precision. Control. He doesn’t do messy makeouts often, but when he does — it’s serious business.

If someone walks in? He glares over his shoulder like he’s about to ruin their lineage.

If it’s Dick or Alfred:

“If your eyeballs have finished malfunctioning, kindly exit.”

If it’s Jon Kent or someone young: he throws a cape or jacket over your head and physically removes the intruder.

Absolutely refuses to act embarrassed. But later?

Quietly asks,

“Did it… upset you? Being seen?”

And when you shake your head, he leans back in like it never happened.

[rottingghosty]

Wayne Enterprise DILFs | DP x DC

this just in local 23 year old forgets they wear glasses and i’m at work lmao

in this prompt / au ish kinda thing, danny’s around i would say late 20s so he gets along well with the younger bat clan members because he’s just an honorary family member at this point. he’s also an enabler to bruce and thus a retaliation had to be made (im a firm believer that danny gets tall and buff when he gets proper nutrition and is built like a tank)

☁️☁️☁️☁️

Danny squints at his notepad, the words were small and blurry enough that not even squinting helped clear up whatever was written on it. He’d forgotten his glasses— something that occurs occasionally when he’s trying not to be late to work and it always ends with him struggling. Beside him was Bruce who seemed to equally be squinting at the tablet but at an arms length compared to when Danny brought it up to his face.

“I think this is why my kids keep telling me to get my eyes checked.” Bruce mumbles and Danny can’t help but let out a small snort in amusement. Danny’s aware of how often Bruce’s children nag on the older man about getting his eyes checked now that he’s ‘getting up there in years’ as one Tim Drake said.

“Tell me about it, my youngest— Eleanor but we call her Ellie always nagged on me until I finally went to our family doctor to see. She turned out to be right but I forgot my pair today.”

His pair that were gently coated in ectoplasm since apparently normal glasses couldn’t help with his heightened senses that his ghostly side leaks over to his human side and it’s why he needed them. Frostbite had been eager to get him a pair, something that Danny wanted to be upset about but the gentle yeti was too caring for Danny to deny him.

“Don’t worry about it chum, I’m sure we’ll figure out what’s on the schedule for today.” Bruce says and Danny gives the man an encouraging smile.

“Danny.” Tim’s voice says with a heavy sigh and instinctively Danny wilts like a flower and hangs his head low. That was Tim’s ‘disappointed but being polite about it’ tone and Danny hates that tone because it means Danny made a mistake. Mistakes made by Danny must be made better by Danny by doing something like joining the Wayne family dinners or even— he shivers— modeling for when one of the Waynes can’t do a photo shoot.

“Tim.” He curtly replied as Tim shook his head and placed his hands on his desk.

“Please tell me you didn’t forget your glasses today.”

Danny pressed his lips together.

“Well.”

“Danny.”

He huffs as he picks his head up and crosses his arms, leaning back against the comfortable couch in Tim’s office because that man took power naps like it was his third job. Danny isn’t stupid, he knows the Waynes are the vigilantes that go out but he dutifully ignores that fact and doesn’t say anything because he likes this well paying job even if he’s really a bodyguard posing as a secretary for Bruce.

“I may have misplaced them today.”

Tim groaned loudly in response as Bruce’s lips curled in amusement, Bruce waited for Tim to turn away from them to slide Danny a hundred dollar bill which Danny silently pocketed.

He wasn’t going to snitch out his boss that the reason Danny and Bruce Wayne were seen at an aquatic center to help teach kids to swim that ended up with Bruce ‘tripping’ and falling into pool nearby was because a kid ‘pushed’ him. Really, Tim should know better than to think Danny was going to say no to acting undercover so Bruce can get clues about a case he was working on.

It’s Batman! He’s not going to deny Batman. Even if the two completely scrapped whatever schedule was made to do their own thing.

“I’m telling Alfred. We’re also getting you glasses old man, I’m not accepting any excuses anymore!”

Both Bruce and Danny gave offended gasps.

It’d be later in weeks time where Danny would be on the phone with Jazz, coffee cup in hand as he spoke to her about any recent things and how life was.

“So are you going to tell me why people in Gotham and on the internet are calling you a DILF?” Jazz asks and it causes Danny to choke on his sip of coffee, the heat burning briefly before he managed to croak out a weak.

“What- Who… Tim.”

His work phone rings and all he sees is a message from Tim with a simple smiley face as if the man didn’t drop multiple photos of Danny, Ellie and Dan (whose faces are thankfully blurred) on the internet as revenge. Especially when Danny sees the caption.

Tim Drake ✔️@ceoTDW

Wayne Enterprises loves supporting single fathers! I’m sure you’ve noticed Bruce Wayne’s secretary but are you aware he’s a single father raising his son and daughter? Here’s our photo shoot with him to celebrate one of our loved employees!

How cruel Timothy Drake-Wayne. How cruel. It’s even worse when he sees fucking Gotham Gazette make an article about how people have voted that Danny is a DILF alongside Bruce Wayne and Lucius Fox. As well as the fact that W.E. ‘collects’ attractive employees to boost morale. What the fuck who wrote this— Vicki Vale.

“I’m never going to show my face again.”

Jazz laughs in response.

[mallory524]

a bunch of teenagers

bob x reader

(she/her)

pictures from pinterest

summary- Bob has really started to like you, but he assumes you don’t feel the same way about him. You do though, and everyone seems to know that except Bob… and apparently also Walker, who really thought he had a chance

tags- thunderbolts* spoilers kinda, thunderbolts being roomies and hanging out yayy, pining, slight jealousy, bob not feeling very confident :( small mention of void stuff, slightly suggestive mention, john walker likes you and of course that goes absolutely nowhere, bucky is getting too old for this foolishness, hand holding, fluff

word count- 1443

notes- i will write for any of the thunderbolts, you guys, the obsession has reallyyy set in

The view of the sunset from the Watchtower is a beautiful backdrop for an already nice evening with the group. You’re all sitting around, waiting for Bucky to come back with food for everyone. Alexei is telling some awfully embarrassing childhood story about Yelena, who keeps trying to cut him off mid-story. "No listen, I was a small child-"

Bob is listening and occasionally laughing, but he’s focusing on you more than he’s focusing on the story. You’re sitting right next to Alexei and trying really hard not to laugh at his story (for Yelena’s sake) but occasionally you cover your face as your whole body shakes with laughter. Bob loves it. He loves seeing you smile. He feels like he’s being weird so he looks away, but he quickly notices that he’s not the only one looking at you.

Walker, who’s sitting right across from him, keeps glancing your way, too. Bob’s never considered before that Walker would like you, but it's not surprising. Of course he would. You’re so funny and smart and you’re tough, but you can also be so kind and, of course, you’re absolutely beautiful... Walker would have to be so dumb to not to see all of that, but it doesn’t mean that Bob approves of this at all.

He doesn’t think Walker is right for you, and he's never considered that you might see Walker that way, but now the idea is in his head and he hates it.

Walker can be a real jerk, (and of course he’s got some rage issues), but he is good looking, and he’s actually able to help on missions. Bob has to stay back most of the time. Plus, sometimes Walker can be pleasant. Sometimes.

Walker also doesn’t risk showing you your most awful traumatic memories every time you touch. Bob’s mostly got it under control now, but it doesn’t matter because now he’s got the mental image of you and Walker touching and that makes him feel nauseous. The idea of you and Walker-

He doesn’t realize he’s been intensely staring down Walker until he looks up at Bob with the most confused look on his face and mouths “what??”.

Even the mere idea of something happening between you and Walker is bothering him, and he can't get it out of his head. I don't know why I'm upset. It's not like I ever had a chance.

After dinner, everyone starts to split up and do their own thing around the tower for the rest of the night. Of course, no one bothered to clean up after themselves, so you take it upon yourself. Bob walks over and hands you another dirty plate. “Sorry”, he says with a shy little laugh.

“Aww dang", you say with a chuckle, "Thanks for actually handing me your dishes, though. Ava left hers on the floor”, and the two of you quietly snicker.

Bob awkwardly fiddles with random things on the counter, as if one of them will give him another excuse to stay there and keep talking to you. You suspect that's what he's doing, but you never know exactly what's going on in his head. Whatever he's doing, it's endearing. Although, you find everything about him endearing: his smile, his little laugh he does every time he's nervous, his messy curls that are starting to fall over his eyes...

You realize neither of you have said anything in a while. "Hey, how are you feeling tonight? You've been extra quiet", you tell him with a sweet smile.

Bob panics, "No, what? I'm fine. Um. I'm just tired, that's what it is", and he smiles at you, but then the direct eye contact is a little too much for him and he redirects his smile to the tile floor.

"Okay, just checking", You aren't sure if you believe him, but you're not going to push it. "Hey, did you see that video where-", and you start talking about something else.

Yelena walks back into the room to grab her phone, and she smiles and rolls her eyes when she sees you happily talking and laughing together.

At some point, Walker strolls in and soo casually leans against the counter, (he thinks he's being really cool), and thanks you for cleaning up, completely ignoring Bob, who is standing right there and helping clean up, too. Bob glances at you, trying to see if you act any different when Walker's around.

As Walker steps back into the hallway to go to bed, he stops walking for a second and glances back at you from afar, until a voice totally pulls him out of his thoughts.

“Don’t even think about it”

“Geez Bucky, don’t sneak up on me like that”, Walker says before turning back to look at you and Bob again. “But seriously, do you think I should go for it?”

“No”, Bucky says with no hesitation.

“Well don’t think too hard about it.” Walker responds sarcastically and crosses his arms defensively.

“I’m not just saying this to be disagreeable. Everyone knows she kind of…” Bucky starts to say before trailing off.

“What? What is it?”

Bucky hesitates and then decides Walker isn’t going to let it go. He leans in and quietly says, “Everyone around here kinda thinks she likes Bob.”

He’s dumbfounded. “Bob?? You cannot be serious. There’s no way that-”

“Watch it, John”

“No, you know I love Bob! But come on, don’t you think if I put the idea out there that maybe she’d at least consider it?”

Bucky groans dramatically, “Ughh I do not want to be involved in all this. I’m just letting you know I think you’d be... unsuccessful”, and as Walker rolls his eyes and walks back to his room for the night, Bucky notices that Bob’s down the hall, and has apparently been listening to the entire thing.

Bob quickly walks up to Bucky. “Do you think that’s true? Actually?”, he says in a hushed tone, with what can only be described as big hopeful puppy dog eyes.

Bucky mutters something under his breath about his new team being “a bunch of teenagers” and then turns to face Bob again. “I mean, she hasn’t said anything to me, but it’s pretty clear. Yelena and Ava were talking about this earlier and they think so, too.”

Bob can’t believe this. There’s no way. He doesn't want to get his hopes up, but if 4 of his friends think so, then maybe it really is true?

Bucky puts a hand on his shoulder. “Ask her to get lunch with you or something tomorrow. You can decide for yourself.”

Bob starts to frantically shake his head, “No, no I can’t do that, it would be so embarrassing if she didn’t want to.”

“Come on, man. She’ll want to. You should probably do this soon before Walker beats you to it”, Bucky says with a little laugh.

That was enough to convince him.

The next afternoon, you’ve been training for a bit, and now you’re going over some random important documents the group was sent. You see Bob over at the counter, so you decide to walk over and pour yourself some tea, too.

“Hey, Bob”, you say cheerfully, and he turns to look at you.

“Hi”, and he pours the tea into your mug without you having to ask.

You thank him and then look in his eyes. He’s clearly thinking about something. “Bob?”

“Would you like to go get lunch with me today?”, he says out of nowhere. He says it like he thinks that if he didn’t ask you now, he never would. Which is probably true. Any more time to think about it and he might've convinced himself it was the worst idea ever.

You smile warmly at him. “Yeah I’d love to. What time were you thinking?”

Bob is so caught off guard by your positive response that he almost doesn’t answer. “Uhh, we could go in half an hour. If that works for you, of course.”

“Yeah that works. Thanks Bob!”, you say, and then you gently pat him on the shoulder and leave the room to shower and get changed. Bob stands there for a second, hoping he didn't just imagine all of that.

When the two of you are ready, you slowly take his hand, and he lightly squeezes your hand back and smiles at you.

Over on the couch, Ava smiles, and Bucky pats Walker on the back with no real sympathy. "Told ya".

Walker kind of scoffs, but he can't help but smile just a little as he watches Bob step into the elevator, happily holding your hand.

[itsallyscorner]

At Fault | MV1

pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

summary: Max invites his ex to a gp and upsets you. Soft and stubborn Max, but he’s a cutie. A mix between angst and fluff, but mostly fluff towards the end. Lots of reader just ranting. Plus a little cameo from the Ferrari WAGs <3.

warnings: Does Kelly count as a warning? Kinda of toxic, I’m not really sure? But who actually likes seeing their boyfriend’s ex girlfriend??

author’s note: Italics are flashbacks! This turned out longer than expected, but I hope you guys like it! It’s also been a while since I’ve written fics, so it there are any errors pls ignore them😭

The tension in the car was thick. So thick, Max believed he could cut it with a knife.

Your arms were crossed as you stared out the window while Max glanced at you wearily every other second. Thankfully, there were only three of you in the car. You and Max in the backseat, and the driver in front being separated by a divider. Though, Max was sure the driver was able to hear the current disagreement between you and him.

Max fidgeted with the lanyard of his paddock pass and stared at the side of your face. He knew he had upset you and honestly you had every right to be. You were biting the inside of your cheek in frustration trying to keep your emotions at bay. As much as you wanted to argue with Max about how you disagreed with his actions, he was due to race in a couple of hours and you didn’t want to add any more stress on his shoulders.

But Max wanted to talk about this now while you were both alone.

“Schatje, are you really mad?” Max asked quietly, leaning closer to you and trying to get you to face him. He truly didn’t mean to dampen your mood before the race. Most importantly, he didn’t like that he was the reason for you being upset. Your brows furrowed ever so slightly and a faint pout was on your lips, both indications that you were in fact not happy with him.

“Yes, Max, I am mad.” You answered, your voice trembling a bit. You had finally turned away from the window and were looking at him. Max felt a pang of guilt in his heart once he saw the look in your eyes. They weren’t glaring at him with the heat of anger, but they were soft and glossy, you were hurt—he hurt you.

Max cautiously reached out for your hand and tangled your fingers together, though your hand felt limp, like you didn’t want to hold his hand at all.

“I told you the truth.” Max said, leaning his head down trying to catch your eyes again. You took in a deep breath before turning to fully face him.

“Yes Max, you did and I absolutely appreciate it. I really do.” You began, grasping his hand between yours. “But that doesn’t make up for that fact that you’ve had this planned out for nearly a month and only told me thirty minutes ago!” You argued.

Thirty minutes ago, before your ride to the paddock can pick you guys up, Max had revealed that his ex-girlfriend, Kelly, and her daughter would be at the garage to watch the race. When you asked how they got passes to the garage, he shared that he had flown them out and provided them with passes for the weekend.

“So she’s been here all weekend?” You questioned him, arms crossed and a brow raised at him. The Italian heat felt even ten times worse as you grew frustrated with your boyfriend.

“Yeah, but they were at the Paddock Club, they’re going to watch the race from the garage though.” Max shrugged, as if it were not a big deal. He adjusted the bag on his shoulder and grasped your hand in his free one.

You couldn’t help the feeling of insecurity seeping into your bones. Kelly was rich and gorgeous, she was a model, and you weren’t. You had a normal job that offered you stability, paid you good money, and you knew how to clean up nice. However, you were no where near her level of anything or any of the other WAGs at that.

“You’ve known this whole time that she was here?” You asked quietly, your brows furrowed at him. You hated that you kept asking him questions, it was like you were interrogating him.

Max looked down at you, confusion etched on his face, “I did, schatje. I flew them out and got them some paddock passes.” You acted before you could speak, and shook your head at him, rolling your eyes in annoyance. Your boyfriend was one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met, however, many people took that as a sign to take advantage of him. While it took him longer to realize it, you noticed it instantly.

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset though, I told you the truth, it’s not like I’m doing anything with her.” Max defended himself, his hands wildly moving around. “She reached out telling me that P missed me and wanted to come to a race, it’s not for her, it’s for Penelope.”

“I understand that Max and as harsh as this sounds, Penelope isn’t your responsibility. I get that you helped raise her, but you guys broke up, you don’t need to provide for her anymore.” You threw a hand in the air, emphasizing your point. “Kelly’s fully capable of flying herself out and buying tickets to a race weekend.”

“I was just being nice.” Max raised his voice, also growing frustrated with the situation.

“And she’s still using you!” You fumed, tears welled in the corner of your eyes. “How many times does she have to use you for you to realize it? You guys broke up and she still manages to get what she wants out of you! Do you know how embarrassing it is to walk in and see her there?” You tried to reason with him. While many of his fans didn’t approve of Kelly, you knew Twitter would have a field day clowning you when they find out Kelly was present in the garage. Social media was never always a nice place and you’ve learned to ignore it, but that didn’t mean it stopped the hate from happening.

Max ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

“This is ridiculous.” He muttered under his breath, you scoffed and leaned back into your seat, staring at the window again.

“Do you not trust me?” Max asked forcibly, staring at the side of your head again. You let out a defeated sigh and turn your head to look at him, “I do trust you, Max.”

Max’s shoulders slouched as he leaned on the seat sideways, his body fully turned to you.

“Then why do you not trust me with this?” He pushed, nudging your knee with his, trying to get an answer out of you. He knew he was at fault and he just wanted to make it right.

“I don’t trust her.” You simply answered, feeling done with the conversation. The car turned, nearing the entrance of the paddock. You sniffled as you untucked your hair from behind your ears, removing your sunglasses from the top of your head.

“You don’t have to worry about her, schatje. I want you not her, there’s a reason why we broke up.” Max reassured, trying to ease the tension between the two of you.

The car came to a halt, a knock came from the driver, indicating that you guys arrived at the paddock. Before you could leave, you turned to Max and said, “Yet, she’s still here.”

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

Entering the paddock was always a frenzy. The moment you stepped out the car, fans were quick to recognize you, knowing that one of their favorite drivers were right behind you. You slid your sunglasses on and smoothed out the white maxi dress you wore. Max followed in suit and flashed a smile at the fans.

Shouldering his bag, he held his hand out to you, “I know you’re upset, but can I please hold your hand?”

You nodded and entangled your fingers with his. The two of you began your walk into the paddock hand in hand, as fans screamed and waved at Max. He gave your hand a squeeze before guiding you guys to some of the barricades and signing a few things for the fans.

After you guys scanned your passes, Max led you guys to the Red Bull garage. However, you came to a halt. Max was quick to look back at you, “You okay?”

“Yeah—I’m gonna meet up with Alex and Rebecca, if that’s okay? We were planning on seeing each other before the race.” You tell him. A small pout formed on Max’s lips, “Oh, okay, I’ll drop you off.” He offered, still holding your hand.

You and the girls decided to meet up at the Paddock Club. In front of the entrance, Max stood in front of you.

“You’ll come to the garage to watch, right? I need you there.” He asked quietly, so that people passing by cannot hear your conversation.

You nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be there before you’re in the car.”

Max mirrored your actions, “Okay, I love you.” He pulled you in by the waist and pressed a kiss onto your forehead. You squeezed his waist in response, “I love you too.”

Max watched as you entered the building, huffing to himself, while he watched you walk further and further into the building.

Placing your sunglasses above your head, you scan the room until you see one of the girls, Alex was the first to spot you, standing in her spot and waving at you to come over.

“Coucou mon amour!” She greeted you, (Hello, my love!) immediately wrapping you in a hug. You squeal as she squeezed you, “Helloo!” You giggled. You go to greet Rebecca, who is immediately giving you a knowing look. Being the older one amongst the three of you, she was often looked up to as the older sister.

She wrapped an arm around you and smoothed your back, “What’s wrong?” She asked while you got situated in the chair beside her.

You shook your head, “It’s just Max.”

Rebecca grabbed the bottle of champagne on the table and poured some into a flute glass. She offered you the glass, “Thank you, I needed this.”

She smiled watching you take a long sip from the glass, “Oh honey, I know.”

Alex pouted and nudged your foot with hers, “What happened with Max?”

“He invited Kelly to watch the race at the garage today.” You bluntly shared, slumping yourself in your chair.

Rebecca’s eyes widened, “Shut up.”

You raised a brow at her, “Oh, I didn’t even get to the kicker yet.”

Alex’s brows raised, “Which is?”

“He flew her out—he fucking flew her out and gave her tickets for the entire weekend.” You revealed through gritted teeth, still being aware of your surroundings. Rebecca cursed under her breath as Alex took your glass and refilled it with champagne.

Grabbing the glass, you continued, “She’s literally been here all weekend and he only told me this morning. I just don’t get it, they broke up, I don’t know why he’s still so concerned about her.” You took another long sip of champagne,

“What was the reason why?” Rebecca asked you.

“Apparently Penelope missed him—which I can believe, but did he really have to do all the providing when she can financially support herself? I get that he was trying to be nice, but still.” You grunt, fiddling with your glass.

Alex comfortingly rubbed your arm, “No, I get it, if Charles did the same thing with his ex, I’d also be upset.”

“I literally told him that she’s using him once again.” You threw your hands up. “If he wants her to be there so much, he might as well just get back with her. Like—am I crazy for losing my mind at the fact they were in contact with each other, even if it wasn’t in a romantic sense?”

Rebecca shook her head, “No, your feelings are absolutely valid. You’re just concerned and it obviously caught you off guard. He shouldn’t have been texting his ex in the first place.”

You groaned and held your head in your hands, “I hate feeling like this, it makes me question if he actually wants to be with me or not.”

Rebecca held her finger up, “I’m gonna stop you right there.” Placing her hand on your shoulder she says, “Max might be acting very stupid right now, but one thing I know for sure is that Max loves you and absolutely adores you. Without a doubt.”

Alex nodded, agreeing with Rebecca, “Like have you seen the way he looks at you? He literally worships the ground you walk on. I’m sure he’s beating himself up right now for doing what he did.”

“He loves you, (y/n), everyone who’s seen you guys together knows it. I don’t think he’d put himself in this kind of position on purpose, you’ve got that man wrapped around your finger, babe.” Rebecca reassured you, throwing her arm around your shoulder and pulling you into another hug.

“Come on cheer up, who cares if she’s in the garage today? You’re the one he’s gonna be going home with tonight.” You laughed shaking your head at her teasing.

“Hey! Tonight and every single night!” Alex pointed out raising her glass at you.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

Two hours. It’s been two hours since Max has dropped you off at the Paddock Club and he still hasn’t heard back from you. He’s been distracted all day. During a meeting with Christian and some of the engineers, he couldn’t help but constantly check for a text from you, earning himself a scolding from the team principal. Checo and a couple of people from the team tried talking to him, but he wasn’t paying attention. His eyes wandered wondering when you would enter the garage.

He did in fact see Kelly and P—obviously he was expecting to see them since he invited them, but all he felt while talking to them was guilt. Guilty because he remembered the look of hurt and betrayal in your eyes and how he was the reason behind it. He hated it, he felt grimy, and dirty for going behind your back and texting Kelly. Not even ten minutes into catching up with the mother and daughter, Max realized that you were in fact correct. Kelly had used him again, instantly making advances on him despite knowing he was happily taken. But for the sake of P, Max made sure to be friendly though kept his distance to not feed into her mother’s schemes.

It was nearing lights out and you were still not in the garage. He had gone through his warm ups with Bradley, had his fireproofs and suit on, and even laced up his shoes. Still, no sight of you whatsoever in the garage. He was beginning to worry about you, sending you a couple of messages to your phone.

The car was due to be on the grid and there was about half an hour left till lights out. Max looked around the bustling garage, checking to see if you had snuck in without him seeing, though to no avail, you still weren’t there.

“Max…Max…Max?” GP tried to get Max’s attention. Snapping a finger in front of the driver’s face, Max’s eyes flickered over to his race engineer.

“What do you want now?” Max groaned, throwing his head back. To onlookers, it looked like a typical interaction between Max and GP. Though, GP felt like he was babysitting a child whose attention span couldn’t focus on one thing for more than a few seconds.

“Mate, I’ve been talking to you for the past five minutes.” GP claimed. Choosing to ignore the information he had just “briefed” Max on, he decided to be a friend.

“Where’s your head at?” GP asked Max. The Dutch man sighed, leaning against one of the storage units in the garage.

“I messed up with (y/n). I did something and it was my fault, I know it was. But she’s not happy with me at the moment and I just want to make it right.” Max summarized, not sharing any more details to protect the privacy of your relationship.

GP motioned towards Kelly who was talking to one of the other influencers in the garage, “Does it have to deal with that?”

“Unfortunately.” Max mumbled, crossing his arms and choosing to stare at the floor.

GP took a minute to stare at his driver. Max was deflated, he wasn’t as hyped for the race or over explaining some random fact about god knows what. Instead, Max kept to himself, greeting people when he had to and communicating with his team prior to the race. Other than that, Max chose to stare at his phone and look longingly outside the garage.

“Listen, I don’t know what exactly went down. But I’ve seen you with (y/n) and she clearly makes you happy, we’ve all see how lively you are with her around. You’ve got a lot of groveling to do bud, but it’ll be worth it.” GP advised, clapping Max on the back to wake him up.

“She’ll always be worth it.” Max quietly said, taking another glimpse at his phone. Only to be met with his wallpaper of you and him, with no notifications.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

Christian Horner stared at his monitor at the pit wall watching as drivers and their teams gathered on the grid. He saw Checo by his car, taking a few sips of water before the race. When the camera panned to Max’s Red Bull, the driver was no where to be seen. Sparing him a second of wondering where his driver was, the camera cut to the garage where Max stood, race suit at his waist, looking no where near ready to participate in the race.

“Why is Max not in the car?” He turned to GP, stress evident on his face. GP turned in his seat and looked back into the garage to see Max pacing. Cursing under his breath, he excused himself from Christian and rushed to Max.

“Max, the race is literally about to start!”

Max stops his pacing and places his hands at his hips, “I need my girlfriend.”

“What?” Bradley and GP both stuttered out. Max deadpanned at the two men in front of him.

“(Y/n), I need to see her before the race.” Max demanded. Bradley pinched the bridge of his nose, “Max, she’ll be here after the race, you’ll be fine.” He pushed the balaclava towards Max’s chest, who simply let the mask fall at his feet.

GP sighed at Max, before calling one of the Red Bull employees.

“Please send out a search for (y/n), Max is refusing to get in the car.” He whispered to the intern. The girl looked at him confusingly but nodded and set out the garage.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

You rushed as best as you could in kitten heels towards the Red Bull garage. You were supposed to be at the garage at least half an hour ago. You and the girls got caught up catching up with each other’s lives that none of you realized it was getting close to lights out. It truly was a funny sight, the three of you rushing out of the Paddock Club and running through the paddock like a bunch of maniacs.

“(Y/n)!” You heard someone yell. You stopped in your steps and looked around, only to see a girl dressed in Red Bull uniform. You recognized her, you believed her name was Nicole and was an intern for the team this season.

“Hey! Is Max on the grid already?” You approached her, a little sad that you missed seeing him before the race.

“No, he’s actually waiting for you. They’re sending out a search for you because he’s refusing to get in the car.” Nicole explained, placing a gentle hand on your back and guiding you through the crowd of fans and towards the garage.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

GP released a sigh of relief once he saw you enter the garage. He shoved Max’s shoulder to avert his attention to you.

“What—oh,” Max began, only to stop himself and rush towards you. You met him half way, placing a hand on his elbow.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t meant to stay there for too long.” You quickly apologized. Max shook his head, “I don’t care, I’m just happy you’re here.”

Your brows furrowed at him, “Why are you here? Why aren’t you in the car yet?”

Max placed both his hands on your waist with a faint blush on his cheeks, “I need my goodluck kiss.”

You paused your actions, “You’re kidding me. Max, the race is about to start in five minutes!” You scolded your boyfriend.

“Please, schatje.” He pleaded, leaning closer towards you. Other team members and guests watched the both of you, the scene in front of them peaking their interests.

You gazed up at his stormy eyes, giving in because you knew he was stubborn and wouldn’t stop until he got his way. Plus, the team would hate you if you lowered their chances of scoring points this weekend.

“Just because I kiss you doesn’t mean I’m not mad at you anymore.” You clarified quietly. His forehead nodded against yours, “I know schatje. I promise to make it up to you, I really do.”

A small smile forms on your lips, “I know, Maxie.”

Max takes that as his sign to crash his lips onto yours. One of his hands support the back of your neck while the other rests on your lower back. You smile against his lips, pulling back and placing a peck right above the small mole on his upper lip.

“I love you.” You whispered to him.

“I love you too.” He whispered back. Before you can fully pull away from him he quickly adds, “I’m serious about my promise.”

“I know, baby.” You squeeze him comfortingly. “Now get out there and win the race. Stay safe.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead as both you and GP ushered him towards his gear that’s been waiting to be put on.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

A man of his word, Max won the race. With at least a five second gap between him and Lando, your boy was top step yet once again. As much as he won, the thrill of seeing him win and crossing the finish line never got old. You celebrated every win of his as if it were his first. You’d always be proud of him, whether he got pole or not.

Many of the engineers and members of the team began to rush towards the grid, eager to greet Max once he got out the car.

Looking around, you suddenly make eye contact with Kelly, who seemed to have been sizing you up. You weren’t really sure what look was on her face, but the hints of a snarl were on her lips. With her nose stuck up in the air, you watched as she carried her daughter and began to follow the rest of the team.

“Don’t mind her. You’re the one he wants to see when he gets out that car.” A voice said from beside you. You jumped, coming face to face with Christian. Your eyes widened at your boyfriend’s boss. Prior to the race, he was informed of the search party the entire team had for you to get Max in the car. While he was annoyed earlier, he thought it was rather cute that Max was so fond of you.

“You know, he’s never begged her for a good luck kiss.” Said Christian, a knowing look on his features. “You on the other hand—he can’t seem to function whenever you’re not around.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know he was gonna put that much of a fight earlier today.” You apologized, feeling a bit flustered. “He’s a bit stubborn sometimes.” You added, to which Christian chuckled at.

“Oh, I know. Max and I have worked together for years.” He stated. He glanced out the garage and motioned towards it, “C’mon now, I’m sure he’s already looking for you.”

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

You make your way through the crowd of Red Bull members, many of them recognizing you and helping you squeeze through till you were at the very front of the barricade.

Max was already out, helmet in his hand, while his other embraced GP and a couple other engineers. You watched as he high-fived Penelope, barely sparing a glance at her mother. A little burst of pride went off in your stomach, you couldn’t help it.

His blue orbs scanned the crowd of red and blue, looking for you. You yell his name, his eyes immediately finding yours. A smile breaks out on his face as he rushed over to you, dropping his helmet in the process. Despite the barricade between you two, he wraps both his arms tightly around you, lifting you off the ground.

“Max!” You squealed, your arms wrapping around his neck. His large hand found your cheek, slightly pulling you away from his neck so he can connect his lips with yours. Naturally, your lips moulded perfectly against his moving in synch. The team erupted in cheers around you.

“I’m so proud of you!” You tell him once your lips separate.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” He grins, gently pinching your bottom lip between his pointer finger and thumb.

He couldn’t stay long, being told that he had to get to the podium for the trophy ceremony.

“I’ll see you after the podium, schatje!” He yelled with a wink over his shoulder, causing a blush to form on your cheeks.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

The ceremony and the media tent took a while, you finally got to see Max an hour later. You were sitting in his driver’s room, when he bursted through the door already looking for you.

You stood up, smiling at him, “Hey.”

He mirrors your smile. Placing the trophy on the couch he opens his arms for you. You walk into the comfort of his hold, burying your head into the crook of his neck and wrapping your arms around his torso.

Finally it was just the two of you.

“I’m sorry.” You said, though it came out muffled against his skin. Max’s hands stopped the circular motions they were rubbing on your back.

“For what?”

You pulled back looking at him, “I overreacted about the whole Kelly thing. I should’ve taken your word for it.”

Max immediately shook his head, disagreeing with you. “No, you were absolutely right about her. I should’ve listened to you from the beginning. The moment I said hi to them she was already trying to come onto me—I avoided her by the way, I just entertained P.”

“I’m also sorry for what I said about P. I was in the wrong for that comment.” You said, a small grimace on your face when you remembered the off hand comment you made about the poor child.

Max chuckled, “Schatje, seriously, it’s okay.”

His calloused hands were rough against the soft skin of your face. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and cradled your jaw in his hand.

“I may have a soft spot for P, but they’re in my past. You’re my future, (y/n). The future that I only want and see myself in.” Max admitted. Your eyes gleamed at him, “You’re the future I want too, Maxie.”

“Good because you’re not getting rid of me that easily. You’re stuck with me.” He joked, squeezing your cheeks.

“I love you. So much. I know it seemed like I didn’t trust you today, but I want you to know that I do. I fully trust you with my life and I mean it.” You said, your fingers playing with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck.

Max nodded, “I believe you. I love you too.”

The two of you basked in the silence and comfort of being in each others arms. Max was the first one to break the silence, “You don’t have plans after this right?”

You hummed against his neck, “Besides celebrating your win, nothing. Why?”

“Because I’m taking you out on a date.” Max proudly announced, a goofy smile on his lips.

“Don’t you wanna celebrate with the team?” You asked him. Max shook his head, “Nope, the only person I want to celebrate with tonight is you.”

You giggled at Max’s antics, “Whatever you say, Champ.”

[militaryapple]

A KNIGHT'S OATH

synposis. it has been many moons since you have lost your love, your knight. until one day he comes back, and shows you that he's here to stay.

cw. cunnilingus, p in v (stay safe girliepops), oral (reviving), lwk kinda angsty, oh knight caleb how i miss thee, hes a pretty chill guy, hi knightly caleb! here to save our hearts and - oh..

add ons. kinda sucked with this one sorry to let u guys down </3 hopefully u guys enjoy the smut still very plot heavy too ah.. i will fall in love with you over and over again also writing in like.. medieval times is LWKK HARD DONT GAG ME

wc. 3.9k

it was finally time to find a husband. you couldn’t delay your mother any longer, a princess cannot go so long without being wed. it was something you didn’t look forward to at all, something you wanted to hide away from. marriage. your heart felt heavy, and you curled into your bed.

you felt as if the world seemed crumble, any other soon - to - be child would be thrilled to get married. have children and rule an entire kingdom with one they shall call their husband for eternity, yet it didn’t feel right. maybe it was because your mother was trying to get you wed to some prince in a well off kingdom, or how unhappy you would be in such marriage.

yet those were not the reasons you felt such sadness. your hands made their way to your head, and your eyes began to swell due to the mere thought of why you felt so upset, so alone, so empty.

you had missed your knight, your darling knight so dearly.

muffled cries came out of you, your face red and puffed. oh how you missed him, how you loathed him for leaving you alone in such a world. how could he do this to you? if it was any other lowly girl, he wouldn’t have left in such a manner. without a trace — anything.

your heart was heavy remembering how your guard left. how one day, he was gone without a trace. how you had asked around your castle to hear the sighs of nearby guards or the scowls of your maids on how you should keep out of peasant business. a day where you realized fairly quickly, he was not to come back to your kingdom.

many moons have passed since this, many nights of sobbing in your chambers, waiting. waiting for a letter, a call, a man to come back into your arms to assure you that no matter what, he would never leave your side again, he was to not let you get hurt once more. "you will be alright, your highness." was what he would whisper to you before you hid away in your chambers from the world that asked so much of you.

you were naive, foolish. your mother should have you as her own personal jest for even believing that one day you were to marry the knight you fell so stupidly in love with. how could you let yourself get this silly? what witch had cursed your mind of the plague you called love? you must put yourself together. you are royalty, not a village girl. there are reputations you must uphold.

you sniffled, wiping your tears. no amount of sobs, pleads and cries will bring him back to you. no matter how much you beg to the gods above, to the stars and heavens, he was to not see you again. you had to accept this, move on. you were to be queen, and queens do not let love - no. emotions, get in the way of how they rule their kingdoms.

getting up, you had called for your maid. was moving on always this hard? was leaving the person you truly loved behind this disheartening? was your heart not ready to move on after so much ache? your mind flooded, it was scary. new. you haven't felt such ways in so long. the sound of your chamber doors whisked you out of the hole you called your mind.

it was your maid, she was here to dress you for the ball today. you stood, making your way to the folding screen and moving so she could dress you properly. "your highness," the woman whispered. "you shall't ask for that lowly knight anymore after this day, do you understand?" she had huffed out, fixing your corset before patting your skirt down and fluffing it out.

you nodded, silently. biting down on your lips as you held your tongue. she's always known what was best for you — she was your mothers old maid after all, so she knew best. the woman moved back, examining you. "oh dear," she said softly, putting her hands together and wiping away her tears. "you look.. perfect." she moved towards you, embracing you tightly.

you couldn't help but let out a stifled sob. the woman letting out a small "oh," before patting your head. "i know," she coo'd to you. her hands going from the crown of your head down to the end of it. "i thought, we were going to get married," you sobbed out, returning her touch.

the woman hitched her breath in, her hands now bringing themselves to your face and looking down at you. "you sound like your mother when she was younger," the woman chuckled softly, wiping your tears with her thumb. "if he was yours truly, he would find you no matter what, but alas he is not here. you are. you must proceed with your duties without him, it is time for you to become a woman. no longer shall you be a girl after this day." her hands were warm, and her gaze was like watching a sun set over the great horizons.

you could only nod in agreement, letting her finish on your hair and makeup. soon the woman was out of your chambers and gone in the quarter hallways of your palace. moving towards your mirror you couldn't help but look at yourself. oh how you longed for the man that was gone. the knight holding you closely, whispering sweet nothing's in your ear as he stared at you in the reflection. beauty, such natural beauty he saw in you, and in your imperfections.

letting out a deep sigh, you finally left your sleeping quarters, moving down the hall. your back straightened and head held high. another man, in the back following closely behind you. though, instead of laughing with the guard. smiling and looking back, you walked. forward. your face; straight and your heart heavy. you felt empty.

it wasn't until you had finally found your mother, her arms opening out to you as you embraced her. "darling, good news, we have found you a suitor! prince zayne!" she said, her arms opening wide out to your castle. you cringed. you've heard of him before. the stone cold prince who cared for no one, and only focused on the economy of his kingdom. he seemed as if he didn't care for love, like he didn't care for his future. yet, you stayed silent. "wonderous news, mother." you said softly avoiding her gaze.

"good, you shall dance with him tonight, do you understand? the final dance is reserved for both you and him." she turned to you, fixing your dress that had moved due to the walking. "smile dear, you shall rule over the world you know of now. the people need you, the people need a king." the words making you turn away.

she fell silent, your mother stepping away from you, not pressing the subject any further.

you had a duty, not a dream.

the night had fallen over the kingdom, darkness engulfing the second and third floor of your castle. your body sat still next to your mother as she encouraged you to go and make talk with the people who had danced around your ballroom. yet you didn't want to do that, you didn't want to do anything.

your eyes followed the people who moved, who swayed and spun around in happiness. yes, right. a day for you, for your wedding that is to be announced soon tonight. before you got up, a tall frame appeared in front of you. you looked up, seeing prince zayne. his hand out, waiting for you. reluctantly you grabbed his hand and followed down the stairs with him.

your arm wrapped around him, your hands intertwining with his. the music making you both sway so slowly. the prince leaned down, whispering in your ear. "we are to be engaged." he said softly. you shriek at the sound of it. "i know," you replied, the words coming out like a heavy weight on your chest. "you must know, as my wife, we shall't sleep in the same bed until your days or reproduction." his words were cold, you guess the rumors that floated around were true.

he spun you, your dress twirling before you latched back on to him, your face now shriveled up in disgust. "we shall't sleep together at all your royal highness." you muttered out "if we shall be wed, i shall wed with a man i love. you are not convincing me enough." your words cut through him like a knife, his interest in you piquing.

"our children will know of our loveless marriage, our kingdoms rely on both safety and security. the security you can give and the safety I can lie down." his words made you shiver, you so desperately wanted to push him away, yet all eyes were on you.

zayne noticed your unease. how your steps followed uneven with his — how you looked as if you have been shot with an arrow. he sighed before pulling away and bowing to you, speaking loudly. "apologies to cut this short your highness, yet i must go. hopefully you can save me a dance for another time." and with that, he was gone. your heart bubbled, and your eyes swelled. you ran.

you ran as fast as you could. it was all too much! marriage? unhappy children? a bleak life with a kingdom you will no longer have any urge to live for? not to mention your soon - to - be husband is a man who will take control and leave you with little to none! oh how you couldn't contain your sadness any longer, you've bottled up for so long just for it to pour out in a singular afternoon.

you ran to your chambers, the only safe area that allowed you comfort. your dress falling with you as you hit the ground the moment your door shut with you inside. the darkness swallowing you whole while you sobbed. you missed him, your knight, your love, your everything. yet he was not here, and you were to be wed to a man who cares not if you lived or died!

you were angry, upset and frustrated. you managed to wiggle yourself out of the dress that weighed you down and put on a more comfortable dress, breaking down bit by bit.

the quietness allowed your sobs to echo throughout your bedroom. your heart hurt and your body ached. it wasn’t until you heard ‘knock knock’ at your door. you sighed, wiping your face before getting up and sighing on your end of the wall. “i cannot come out this instant,” you said trying to keep your voice up. “return to me once the sun has risen.” you turned to walk away.

“has her royalness forgotten about me already?”

your eyes widen, turning straight to your door. that voice, so familiar yet so far — a lump forming in your throat. it has been so long, maybe — maybe it was some sort of curse. a curse of remembering, a curse to haunt you. yet, you couldn’t help yourself, holding the door gently.

you pushed it open. your hands making their way to your lips in a gasp, then holding out. there, in front of you stood a man. he was tall, his frame big yet lighter than you remember. his hydrangea hued eyes that once shined with such brightness, now softer and exhausted. “is it you? my caleb?” you asked, gently placing your hand to his cheek, caressing his broken smile.

his hand followed, cupping your hand as he sighed nuzzling into your touch. his hands were rough, more rough than what you have been used too. like instead of holding his sword high to scare off any wandering eyes, he had been put into action, far too much more than he needed to be. “you are gentle, treating me as if i am to break at some point.” he jested. your eyes followed around his body. his armor was dirtied, and his helmet stayed to his side exposing his face.

“have my prayers been heard? have they finally sent you back to me?” you whispered, your hands caressing every part of his face, how real he felt. he spoke like your caleb, he had to be him.

caleb couldn’t help but embrace you. his arm wrapping around you so easily like they have done many moons before. “i have spent a eternity coming back to you,” he said softly. “yet the love you feel for me, is not for me. i am not the same man you loved, i have hurt people. i am a monster,” his voice low.

you push him back, making his loose his footing before balancing himself. “you accuse me of not loving you? you surely jest!” you yelled. your hands balled into a fist as you glared at him. “i have waited! waited! you left without a trace! not a soul would speak a word about your absence — your existence! i have yearned and prayed for your return, your touch and protection! and you dare call me a fake!” it was pouring out of you. your anger and sadness.

“your highness — ” his voice cut sharp off. “what have you done? you claim to not be mines? what have you done in his place? what makes you have the right to claim that the man whom i love is no longer here? in front of me!” your hand now point at him, poking and pushing him.

calebs hand grabbed yours in retaliation. “i have hurt people! killed! i have slaughtered over dozens of men and used people! i had to — i needed to get back to you! it was all to get back to my lady! to get back to you!” his response loud, a match between voices to be heard, listened to. caleb dipped his head into yours, “i must protect you, as that was my swore oath to the queen. my oath to you.” he said softly.

he let go of you, his hands dropping yours, instead of your hands returning to your body they reached out for him. your arms holding over him, embracing him. “that does not wipe you away from me,” you said softly, bringing his gaze to yours. “does that mean i am not in love with the same man who has served and protected me? am i not in love with the same man who has stayed by my side for what had seemed like an eternity?" your voice seemed harsh, but laced with comfort.

"my lady," he said softly, you moved away from him. his gaze unwavering from you. "hush now, into my chamber. i shall call off the ball at once," you pushed him into your bedroom but he quickly grabbed your arm stopping you. "do not, you can hear the music from here. I shall have a dance with you," he said pulling you into his arms as your door closed on its own. his wrecked smile now blooming into a genuine one, his eyes beaming as they used to.

"you shall have a dance with me? sir caleb, if one does recall.. you are supposed to ask a lady to dance. what if I wish to dance alone?" you hummed in amusement. though it was already too late and he had already taken you both hand and waist. the slow movements of the music seemed to be more happy than when you were dancing with another.

caleb had spun you around, making you giggle in response. "if her royalness is to dance alone, surely that means she is waiting for some big, handsome knight to sweep her up off her feet and take her into his arms." before you could respond, he had picked you up and twirled you around making you laugh, more than you have ever in so long. it showed to him, he set you down, placing a kiss on your cheek.

"my fair lady," he bowed to you. "a lovely dance we had together." he hummed, you did the same. your dress pulling up as your legs crossed and you bowed down. "i can only say the same to you." you replied. before you knew it, the kingdom was entirely dark. the stillness surrounding you as you both realized that the ball had come to its end.

you looked back at the knight, worried. "you shall't leave!" you said quickly, the obscure switch of your emotions throwing him off as you pushed him to your bed, rushing to your door and putting a chair up to it, then back to him. "the night is still young, you must stay my love!" you whined out crawling on top of the poor knight. caleb let out a chuckle, "my lady," he hummed out. "if i were to leave i would've done so already, i am here to stay." his hands wrapping around your hairs that fell down your face, tickling him.

"yes but, what if you leave again? you had left me! you were gone without a word, no one would tell me anything! I cannot just trust that you will stay again, that you shall't hurt me once more," you bursted, your voice quieting down after each word. you choked back tears, oh how your knight hated seeing you hurt, his hands going from your hair to your cheek as he held you gently.

he hummed, his eyes grazing over you, "then if my lady does not believe my words," his hands brushing your cheek before moving down to your neck. "then I shall show her with my actions, shall I not?" caleb brought his hand to the crown of your neck, bringing you down to kiss him. he was gentle with you, steady. his mouth finding every part of your skin to kiss on.

his free hand traveled around your skin, unlacing your dress as he slipped his hands right between the fabric that had hidden your skin. "princess," he murmured, his gaze avoiding you then glancing back. "oh the things you do to me," he whined softly. you couldn't help but get up, moving away quickly as caleb sat up also. "was I too demanding? have I asked for too much of you?" he said worriedly, it wasn't the fact that he had just caressed you, touching you places no unmarried princess should allow anyone to touch - you were nervous. you shook your head. "i shall allow you to undress your armor first," you said looking away from him, and all caleb did was return a laugh.

"i am your knight, am i not? you will be the one taking off my armor, what is mine is yours." he stared as you crept closer to him, letting your top half of your empire gown fall. your tits pretty as you set next to the knight. you carefully helped him take off his armor, his eyes fixated on your pretty breasts.

once he was bare, he leaned in. kissing your neck as you let out small moans. "there you go," he hummed moving away from you, his hands now sliding against the skin of your thighs. he got off the bed, and knelt down to you, his eyes looking up at you. "may i?" he asked so nicely allowing you to return his question with a nod of approval.

calebs hand slid your dress up, his mouth following between your legs as he placed small kisses here and there, then his mouth latching on to your sensitive nub as he kissed and suckled on it. one of his hands still placed on your thigh, while the other rubbed small circles on your clit. oh how you felt so good, you moaned grabbing on to the softness of his hair. your legs twitch while he held one spread. "my gods, you are divine." he mumbled out.

the feeling made you gasp. it was new — and it felt so good. your hips rolling at the feeling of his tongue. your hand gripping his hair, while you whined. caleb hummed, his vibrations sending shivers down your body as you twitched. “uh uh princess,” he said softly, his hands holding your legs open while he could better a taste.

how he made you feel so good, your whines becoming begs and pleads, his pace quickening at the sounds of your moans. your hips practically rut against his mouth, his tongue coating every bit of your slit and folds, he wanted to make you feel good, make his princess know that he shall never leave her again. he was evil for leaving you; making you suffer.

you felt a heat rise in you, your heart thumping while you mindlessly whined. “i know,” he said softly, licking your clit as his hands rubbed furiously on your nub. “do you feel good here?” he looked at your swelled eyes, “a yes it is,” he said softly. placing his last kisses on your sobbing cunt, watching you shake and twitch on his mouth, waves crashing together as you felt your high come down.

caleb moved away, his body finding its way up and over you. his hands tugged on your dress, completely pulling it off you. he flipped you over; his cock pushed up against your sobbing cunt. “please, i’ve been waiting so long — let me make you feel good m’lady” he whined. you let out a small ‘go ahead’ he pushed inside of you shuddering at the feeling.

he stilled, waiting for any sound or moment of discomfort or pain but instead he was met with a moan. your hips rocking against him, his hips only moving in a rhythm agreeing with yours. you gasped, moaning and gripping your sheets. he coaxed you in adoration, and sweet murmurs of ‘i love you’ — grabbing your hips and rutting into you.

“we — ngh, are to be wed,” he groaned. his eyes falling on your pretty back, “and i will not leave you, mh, you will bear my children, and we will stay together. as king or queen, or as too common folk.” his thrusts were sloppy, hitting a spot that made you roll your eyes back. caleb kissed your body, worshipping every part of you that he could.

you felt the waves again, the heat of your climax. you sobbed as caleb took that as a sign. his pace quickening, snapping his hips into yours will harsher thrusts. “apologies, princess,” he groaned, his cock hit every angle of you, the sounds of ‘ah’ and ‘oh’s filled your room before you began to twitch, your waves crashing down as you climaxed. your juices leaking over his cock.

it didn’t stop caleb, his cock leaking inside of you as he continued to thrust himself inside your sobbing cunt. his breaths now sounds of your name, his arms wrapping around your body lifting you up so he could go deeper inside you.

his thrusts were nasty against you, “m going to protect you forever,” he whined. “is that all right, princess?” his lips kissing your neck — you too far out to respond. his hips becoming faster before he slammed into you, spilling himself inside of you. he gave you slow strokes before pulling out. watching you numb on your bed as you pant and fight for air.

he couldn’t help but kiss your head, petting it slowly and lying down next to you. “i told you,” he hummed. “i shall’t be leaving you anymore, my love. i am your knight, and yours alone.”

taglist for my pipsquirters : @rcvcgers @neigepomme @tsumoorin @hannasarah @sleepyvivikitty @loldoll @rivifying @allmightyfishdick @criedallday

[lets-try-some-writing]

I got the image of the Jack, Miko and Rafael learning to imitate Distressed/terrified Sparkling cries and using them against the decepticons. It’s a very efficient defense mechanism. Every cybertronian who heard them is freaking out because oh primus how is the squishy thing making that noise and I gotta protect it at all costs. The sheer chaos that would ensue as the ‘protect/rescue the sparkling’ programming kicks in full force.

——

The vehicons are clustered at the other end of the room panicking. They don’t know what to do. The human sparklings are looking right at them and making distress noises. The guilt is killing them.

Knockout going “is the car form less alarming?! If I turn into a car will you stop seeing me as the threat?!”

Breakdown is having a breakdown.

Starscream pinned to the wall on the other side of the room having an internal crisis. He doesn’t like this. Make it stop.

Soundwave makes no noise but you can FEEL the sheer distress radiating off of him.

Megatron is frozen. No thoughts, head empty. He’s not moving at all. He doesn’t know how to handle this.

——

The autobots have mixed feelings about this. They’re glad the kids have a way of defending themselves but please don’t do it near them. They’re stressed out enough as it is.

(This might sound kinda dumb but I thought it was kinda funny. Very tired while writing this)

Wait no this is actually brilliant.

The Decepticons never anticipated their long buried parental nature to be used against them. No one did. But they day the human children turned up on the battlefield looking far too confident, every Bot and Con present had the all encompassing feeling that something was terribly wrong. Their suspicions were quickly confirmed when, before the Decepticons could do much of anything to get the relics they were after, Rafael began to wail.

Normally, human screams meant nothing. But there was a certain pitch that sounded so close to a cry of distress from a sparkling that, to warriors who had not heard a sparkling in millennia, it was enough to send them running to help. In this case, the issue was only compounded as the children scattered like mice and started making the same noises. The Decepticons could hardly focus on the Autobots booking it to the relics as they frantically tried to locate the fictitious sparklings calling for aid.

The Vehicons managed to get to Jack, but he just kept looking up at them defiantly. Every time one of the dozen or so Vehicons on the field tried to grab him, blast him, or otherwise hurt him, Jack would chirp like a sparkling and send all of them scurrying back. It wasn't cute to the Vehicons. Having never seen actual sparklings but still having the coding needed to adore them, they looked at Jack and saw a weird frame-walker. They weren't sure what to do about it except try to haul themselves away while also keeping a vague circle around the human male.

Miko on the other hand made it a point to chase after Megatron and Soundwave, screeching like a sparkling about to be shredded. Neither stopped for her, but Megatron completely lost his train of thought every time that screech rang out. He could have been aiming at Optimus with a perfect head shot and he would be unable to fire as Miko's distressed sounds rang out in his audials. He KNEW she wasn't a sparking. His coding wasn't even that strong. But by Primus, hearing her screech was the same as watching a civilian get run over by a bus, repeatedly. Focus was impossible.

Soundwave wasn't much better. He didn't react outwardly, but the slowing of his steps and the way he tried to sidestep Miko gave away his distress. He avoided her like the plague, trying to refocus but being unable to really get far as Miko screamed like a demon. It was a fight against the Unmaker himself to keep Soundwave from bolting over to collect the sparkling who sounded so very upset.

Rafael, for his part, followed Miko's lead and harassed the other three members of High Command most often found out on the field. Breakdown ran screaming the moment Rafael started chirping at him. This was both out of fear of the frame-walker and to escape the inevitable overreaction of his coding. He may or may not have attempted parkour once or twice to get as far away from the smallest of the humans as possible.

Knockout tried to ignore Rafael when the kid chirped up at him, he really really did. But how does one ignore the Cybertronian equivalent of a soaking wet kitten meowing up at you? Simply put: you don't. Knockout gave in and quickly dropped down to try and soothe the non-existent sparkling every. single. time. Rafael pulled his noise trickery. He never fails to panic and attempt to flash colorful things at Rafael to get him to stop. Every Decepticon has since been endlessly disappointed in him.

Starscream, being terrified of things that really shouldn't be there, took the skies the instant the trio began screeching. Nope. Not today Unicron. He'll get the mission done or get the heck out of dodge to avoid coding coming online. He doesn't need empty nest syndrome on top of a crippling case of "I Love Power." He also doesn't need to deal with the horrific mental image of a squishy somehow managing to sound like a sparkling. Nope. Nope. NOPE.

The Autobots are grateful the kids can protect themselves a bit now. But by Primus, they have known NO peace since the kids figured it all out.

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

──── YOU'RE HERE, THAT'S ENOUGH . ↳ one shot // also part of the no doubt series !

✎ᝰ .ᐟ aka jake's late, you order for your own drink for once, and now he owes you his life.

── sim jaeyun x f!reader ౨ৎ wc. 866 ⌗ pure fluff, jake is so self-panic-inducing, mentions of breaking up, mentions of jake abt to jump out a window . he's just a simp at the end of the day .

↳ IMPORTANT NOTE .ᐟ ── this is part of my no doubt series ─ a sequel series of short drabbles that take place after the events of my fic no doubt, and show jake & reader's relationship throughout their first year together (& how jake wins her trust & love back hehe) ── THIS CAN BE READ AS A ONE-SHOT, however, there will be some easter eggs if you've read no doubt before!

↳ addie's ✉ .ᐟ ── hehe another cutesy one. im excited for the next one everyone pls buckle up...i almost kinda feel bad for jake here this poor guy just lives life on the verge of panic every day. am i evil for this? sorry jakey <3

Jake is sprinting.

Not fast-walking. Not lightly jogging.

Jake is in full-on, Olympic-level, life-or-death sprint through the streets.

His bag is slapping his side. His hoodie is slipping off his shoulder. His lungs are screaming. And he’s probably sweating more now than he did during the entire extra hour of dance practice that made him late in the first place.

And still—he’s pretty sure he’s still not moving fast enough.

His phone is glued to his palm, screen still open to the frantic texts to you:

jake (6:32PM): baby im so so so sorry practice is running over i swear im leaving soon PLEASE dont hate me

jake (6:41PM): im literally dying to be there pls give me 10 minutes max i promise

jake (6:47PM): oh my god im running now im literally sprinting my lungs are collapsing hold on

jake (6:50PM): please still be there please please please

Jake nearly crashes into the café door.

He bursts in, chest heaving, heart racing, vision tunneling. His eyes dart around the café, already mentally preparing the most desperate apology of his life—

And then he sees you.

There you are. Sitting by the window like something out of a postcard. Sipping your iced peach latte. Typing away on your laptop like nothing’s wrong.

Jake’s lungs fully give out.

He practically trips over his own two feet, words spilling out before he’s even fully made it to you.

“I am—so sorry,” he gasps, hands bracing himself against the table, his bag fully falling to his side now, his entire image disheveled. “I—I—oh my god—I messed up, I know—”

You blink up, startled.

“Jake—”

“I swear I left as soon as I could, I was literally ready to bolt over, but then we had to go over the choreo one more time and—” he cuts himself off to breathe, huffing in frustration, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair. “I swear I was ready to jump out the window to get here faster and I know I should’ve managed my time better and I shou—”

“Sim Jaeyun.”

Jake’s mouth snaps shut.

You tilt your head, your eyes soft as you look up at your boyfriend.

“Sit.”

He does. Immediately. Like an obedient golden retriever.

“Breathe.”

“Trying.”

You gently push an untouched iced Americano towards him, “I ordered for you.”

Jake looks down at the drink. Then back at you.

“Wait, you ordered? Like you spoke to the cashi—wait. You’re not mad?”

“Nope.”

“Not even…like, a little mad?”

“You sound like you want me to be.”

Jake lets out a sound that’s equal parts relief and self-deprecating, “Well, definitely not, but I’m late. To our date.”

You casually take a sip of your latte, your gaze still soft on him, “Jake. You told me what was happening, you ran here like an insane person, and now you’re looking at me with those eyes you do that makes you look like a kicked puppy. Why would I be upset?”

Jake blinks.

You’re not mad. You’re here.

Still here.

Still you.

Looking at him with nothing but patience and understanding.

And Jake feels something deep and warm settle into his bones.

Jake just stares at you for a full solid second until finally—

“Oh my god,” he collapses onto the table, face-planting into his arms. “You’re actually an angel. I don’t deserve you.”

You break out into a fit of giggles, “Okay, that’s a little dramatic.”

“No, like—” he lifts his head just enough to look at you with big, defeated eyes. “I thought I ruined it.”

“You didn’t.”

“I thought you were gonna break up with me.”

“I wasn’t.”

“I thought I’d walk in here and you’d be gone and I’d have to get on my knees at your front door and beg for my life back.”

“…Did you eat lunch today?”

Jake ignores that.

“I just—” He grabs your hand across the table. His voice drops into something low, something sincere. “I don’t want you to think I’m not trying. Or that you’re not a priority.”

Your face softens, “I know I am. And you are trying, Jake. Like, so hard. I see it. You don’t have to prove yourself to me every second of the day.”

Jake swallows.

“I appreciate you, Jakey—” you squeeze his hand, “—a lot. And I’m just happy you’re here.”

Jake lets out a breathless laugh, feeling suddenly light again. He lifts your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles—once, twice, like he needs to (he does).

“Okay,” he breathes, lips still brushing your skin. “Okay. But just so you know—I am still making it up to you.”

You raise a brow, smiling, “Oh?”

“Yup,” Jake grins, flipping your hand over to press another kiss to your palm. “Whatever you want. I feel bad you had to order our drinks by yourself, I know you hate that.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes, “That’s true. I hate talking to cashiers.”

“Don’t worry, baby.” Another kiss. “I’ll make sure you never have to talk to one ever again for the rest of your life.”

“You’re actually ridiculous, Sim Jaeyun,” you smile, cheeks warm.

“Mmhm,” he mumbles before countering immediately—

“And you’re perfect.”

<< past || no doubt m. list || next >>

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[wonderjanga]

Billy and the Robins

Marvel has met all the Robins up until now. Like, let’s say Billy has been doing this for like eight maybe ten years. This Billy as Marvel met Dick a year before he became Nightwing, met Jason all the way through until his death, met Tim, and met Damian. He’s also been able to connect them to their new vigilante identities almost immediately. Now, Damian still is Robin and of course, Tim going from Robin to Red Robin isn’t too hard to figure out but I can see him doing this to the other two:

*Nightwing just joins the Justice League and all is looking swell so far. His first mission is with Captain Marvel and he remembers the dude being pretty nice. The mission goes well and they’re on their way back to the Watchtower.*

*Two are talking about whatever*

Marvel: *Pauses mid convo and stares at Nightwing a bit before he does a little finger snap* “Oh! That’s where I know you from! You’re Robin! Dude, it is so cool you became your own hero. The blue’s awesome.”

Nightwing: *Has a mini-heart attack* “Wha? Psshh… Dude, I’m not Robin.”

Marvel: “Uh… Yeah you are? You guys have the same” *gestures to Nightwing*

Nightwing: “The same what?”

Marvel: “You know. The same” *gestures to Nightwing again* Nightwing: “You do know that doesn’t tell me anything… right?”

or

*Zatanna, her father, and Constantine are unavailable to help with a magic artifact. This led Bruce to begrudgingly ask Billy for help. At the scene are Bruce, Billy, Damian, Cassandra, and Jason. Bruce is briefing them on something Marvel isn’t listening to as he stares at Jason trying to figure out why he’s familiar.*

Marvel: *cuts Bruce off* “Aren’t you Robin number 2?” *ignores the stares as he looks at Jason.*

*silence from literally everyone*

Marvel: “Holy moly. You’re like 6’2.” (He says as if his Marvel form isn’t like 6’11. I love freakishly tall Marvel) “You used to be so tiny!”

Red Hood: *Gets hit in the face with a flashback*

//Flashback//

(Recently adopted Jason)

Jason: *sitting on a couch in one of the Watchtower’s rec rooms eyeing a box of donuts on a coffee table.*

Marvel: *walks into rec room with the intent to steal said donuts as food for Billy. Sees Jason.* “Robin?” *Walks over.* “You look… different.”

Jason: *fumbling for words, slightly surprised a hero came up to talk to him* “Oh uh- I’m not Robin- Your Robin. The Robin that you know.”

Marvel: “Yeah, well, that’s kinda obvious. You’re all skin and bones, kid.”

*The joke was met with no laughs and a look of hurt.*

Marvel: “Not- not that I’m saying it’s a bad thing! As somebody who frequently lived on ketchup sandwiches and sugar water at your age,” (as if he isn’t still that age, and still lives like that) “trust me when I say, I’m not making fun of you.” *grabs the box of donuts and offers it to Jason* “Look, why don’t you take one of these, or maybe a couple. I saw you eying them when I walked in. I’m sorry if you got upset at what I said.” *really doesn’t want Jason to cry*

Jason: *grabs two donuts. Chocolate and strawberry* “Why?”

Marvel: “Why what?”

Jason: “Why’d you live like that at my age?” (He finds it surprising this guy, this hero, lived like that at some point.)

Marvel: *contemplates whether or not telling Jason is a good idea for like 3 seconds before he throws it out the window* “I was homeless.” *shrugs*

Jason: “Oh. Me too.” *nibbles on one of the donuts*

*After a while of awkward conversation, Marvel soon gets Jason to open up and they branch away from the topic homelessness and spiral into other topics. Jason goes back to Bruce with a smile on his little face*

*After that, and a couple more encounters between the two, Marvel was the first person Jason bee-lined too at the Watchtower. Of course, not before saying hi to Wonder Woman. Greek heroes hold a special place in his heart for some reason.*

//End of Flashback//

*Under the helmet, Jason’s face slowly reddens in embarrassment and he just facepalms, not caring that he hit the metal of his helmet as he went through memories upon memories of little him following Marvel around like a little duckling.*

[sistertotheknowitall]

Some Guy on Fear Gas (can apparently turn invisible)

Masterpost

“Danny was supposed to be in class today.”

There was a round of sighs in the coms. See Danny didn’t react in the same manner as the rest of the population when exposed to fear toxin (or in general, but they were mostly used to that). See Danny didn’t scream, he didn’t cry, he didn’t get violent. He got unnervingly paranoid.

He got so unnervingly paranoid about being watched, specifically by the government if the muttered and whispered words were to be believed. His eyes tracked nothing while he slowly moved around invisible people. It wasn't like dealing with someone in an active hallucination experiencing a psychotic break. It was like dealing with someone in a paranoid delusion. He wouldn't let any of the bats near him and often took off, disappearing into the chaos.

Four months into seeing this kid everywhere and their suspicions were confirmed when he literally disappeared after the second time being poisoned.

Danny was a meta and he was afraid.

That’s not the reason for the exasperation felt by this family though. It was what always happened after. The first time he ignored every vigilantly when they tried to bring it up. After the second time he attempted to avoid everyone, extended family included.

(He had asked Kate if she was also Batman’s kid. “More like their aunt.” “Oh okay so it really is a family business. Like that show Unnatural. You don't happen to have also lost your parents at a relatively young age and now go on to fight a dark presence in their honor, do you?.” Kate had stared passively at him, the others had warned her. “….. okay… are you more of a Zuko honor type?”)

However, it was like the universe conspired against Danny. Even Bruce agreed that there had to be some god or being doing this (nothing is ever a coincidence). They kinda felt bad for him. He was very obviously trying to avoid them and he was either really bad at being evasive or a deity was laugh at him. Once he had thrown himself behind a lamp pole smaller than himself and closed his eyes to avoid Stephanie.

(It was very awkward. He could turn invisible and knew they knew so why…..? She had politely continued past so not to embarrass the poor guy further. Cause this was embarrassing and they both knew it.)

Finally it was Duke who pulled them all out of limbo. He had come across Danny on the roof of another bank. A lesser known capital union closer to crime ally this time.

Danny hadn’t been avoiding Duke in the same manner as everyone else. He still stopped to give Duke food but he never spoke and he ran after. Duke thought it would be weird to chase him but it was also weird to turn around, have an orange shoved into his hands then watch his friend run away.

However, this time Danny didn’t run as Duke approached so Duke sat next to him. Pulling out a granola bar, he handed it to Danny, “that’s why you feed me all the time right? Cause you know how many calories we need as metas.”

Danny had laughed, “no actually, that was a bit that morphed into a habit. I just thought it was funny.”

“….what.”

“Don’t get me wrong, now that we’re friends I am more than happy to feed you but yeah. The first candy bar was a thank you and then the second time I thought ‘I have fruit.’”

“….. wow… okay.” There went his plan of empathizing. They sat in silence as Duke tried to reorganize his thoughts.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you all.” Duke turned his head to face Danny, who kept his eyes forward, “you know no one cares that you’re a meta.” “Obviously. It wasn’t the invisibility that I was upset about," Danny said.

“The muttering. The paranoia.” Danny grimaced and didn’t say anything.

“You don’t have to tell us till you’re ready, man. Just let us know if you need help. Please, are you safe?”

Danny nodded and Duke nodded back and they had both continued to sit. When they parted ways Danny handed Duke a small bag of chips.

Danny had apologized everyone one at a time even though they had heard it from Duke. Danny never explained nor did he want to talk about his it. His power of invisibility was also a subject off limits. All of them were worried but they didn’t want to force him to talk about it. They had to trust that he would one day feel comfortable doing so with any or all of them. (Still, it was hard seeing their friend so paranoid that he flinched back from them. )

Post Six

[hcneymooners]

⋆ the heart devises, desires, can be stolen.

modern!young!ambessa x curvy!best friend!reader. men & minors dni.

synopsis: ambessa has always been your best friend, and you hers—one half of a duo everyone envies. but it turns out she’ll take any chance to remind you that no one else gets to have you.

cw: straight smut bro i'm ovulating real bad, power dynamics, homoerotic friendships, rich girl bullshit, pining, sexually explicit content, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, oral sex, face riding, impact play, dom/sub, brat!reader, brat tamer!ambessa, dom!ambessa, praise kink, face-sitting, face fucking, possessive sex, accidental voyeurism (she eats you out while you're on the phone with a date), possible infidelity? may be up to interpretation, insane sexual tension, kinda hate sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, clit play, humiliation kink, reader is black-coded but everyone can read!

notes: i have nothing to say for myself. enjoy. love you.

the problem with the medarda heiress is that she’s allowed to want you, but you are not allowed to want her. if you do, you’ve upset something delicate and impossible to rebalance. you’ve leaned too hard into it, and she’ll punish you for the weight. it was an invisible rule, but enforced with brutal consistency. you, and anyone else she ever deigned to touch, had to understand this law to be allowed inside the thicketed, thorn-laced garden of her lioness heart.

you were strategic. played it smart. tied yourself to her not through confession but through proximity. best friendship. a safe zone, or something close enough to perform as one. still, the world you built together had curdled into something sticky. mutated by a strain of possession that could only belong to two bright, beautiful, brilliant young girls, padded by old money and too many afternoons with nowhere to be. 

you never talked about it, but you both knew: the relationship had grown elevated beyond all else. separate. sacred. whatever existed between you was observed with more affection than most marriages.

she had your coffee order filed away in the notes of your contact card. you had her credit cards sitting untouched in your apple wallet, every limit obscene. you did her makeup when she was afraid to try something new and needed someone who wouldn’t laugh if it all went wrong. her hands hugged the lunar curves of your hips as she measured you for brands you rarely purchased from. urged you to yield to instructions such as stand still while her thumbs pressed deliciously just below your hipbones.

you knew each other best, which meant you hurt each other best. 

when she was displeased with you, she would excise you silently. you’d wake to an instagram feed newly glittering with crowds of people who would ask about the reason you hadn’t been there with rehearsed innocence. in return, you would still celebrate her birthday, but with less respect than owed. show up late. deliver a gift just generic enough to imply you’d forgotten, a last-minute grab from a boutique near the venue. it would make her lips go thin and bloodless at the head of the dinner table, her eyes going flat with insult.

ambessa would follow this with digging her nails into your thigh until she drew both blood and your sharp gasp of pain, and then look over sweetly. her face would enact a perfect collapse, a slow crumple, her face folding into the perfect picture of saccharine concern. 

“jesus, [name],” she’d whisper, a hand on your knee, locs twisted up like a debutante. “are you alright?”

only you could see the violence behind it. it matched your own.

later, to get back at her, you’d lock her out in the cold and text her to call in a favor at the ritz. you’d fall asleep sprawled across your shared bed, cheek pressed to her pillow, her scent making something claw in your chest.

but the worst, the thing that really got her, was when you went on dates. she despised it. viscerally, illogically. 

she’d watch you get ready from the edge of your bed like a housecat preparing to pounce, her long limbs sprawled out in quiet threat. her eyes would follow your reflection in the mirror as you applied gloss and tucked that evening’s pair of earrings into the soft swell of your earlobe. when you reached for your heels, she'd tug the hem of your dress like she was helping, but always, always popped off a bead or caught a thread.

you’d swat her hand away.

 “bessa. stop.”

 she’d just blink, slowly and unreadably. “i’m only fixing it.”

you’d kick at her ankle, not gently. she’d wince, delicately performative. it made you feel better, even though both of you knew she could break you in half if she wanted.

she just never did.

she always waited up.

never slouched. never drowsy. only still. it was like a meditation brought on by jealousy that coiled with nowhere to strike.

ambessa kept the suite dim, lit only by the golden hush of a single lamp and the spill of city lights leering through the windows. she sat poised in one of the chaises like she’d been born there, legs crossed, one hand rubbing idly at her temple as she looked over internship applications. her silk robe was belted in a way that suggested absentmindedness. but with ambessa, nothing ever was.

your entrance was deliberate. you’d come late, always sitting by yourself at the table for a few extra minutes just to strengthen the wound. as you walked in, she looked up, eyes glossy but sharp as if she hadn’t blinked while you were gone. 

your heels hung from your fingers, limp and thoughtless, betraying nothing of the two thousand dollars they’d cost, you had played it risky, had decided to engage with what your mother once called “the wisdom of a whore”. the outfit was an electric blue, comprised of a candalously tight, micro-skirt and a matching beaded tube top that did nothing to hide the hardness of your nipples. 

your hips swayed like a dare. your hair was teased large and soft, fragrant with something tropical and warm, the kind of scent that would linger kindly along bedsheets and a shirt collar. your lip combo was smudged from the sips of the apple martinis you’d ordered, the liquor a toxic green highball. it had felt threatening every single time a sip went down. your teeth bit into your bottom lip, white still gleaming. your edges were immaculate, barely curled. 

you looked expensive. you were sure to taste somewhat like trouble. and she abhorred it.

you hadn't even liked the guy, but you liked his effect. it was cruel, but cruelty was the only language you spoke fluently when ambessa got like this.

her eyes crawled over you. slow. bladed. her fingers twitched, and she covered them with the lip of her robe, anxious to keep her emotions unrevealed. 

“well?” she said.

you blinked. set your purse on the counter like you hadn't noticed her watching. “well, what?”

her lip curled, delicate and venomous. but then, “did you—did you have fun?”

her voice seemed to get smaller by the end, but you caught the subtle narrowing of her eyes. 

you laughed. couldn’t help it. the act was borderline insane. insanely her. you dropped your heels, letting one tumble toward the couch.

“you’re so upset,” you murmured, the sound almost fond.

ambessa stood. “i am not.”

“bessa,” you said, ensuring that you sounded the right side of disappointed. “i thought we agreed to never lie to each other.”

“please,” she scoffed. you smiled wider. you began to move again.

her eyes tracked you, slow and precise, a predator unbothered by the illusion of prey. she waited until you leaned against the island in the kitchen, fiddling with a glass like you might pour yourself water. you didn’t.

then, low and syrupy, “what’d you drink tonight?”

you smirked without turning. “why?”

“i’d like to know what to order if i go there.”

she’d never go there.

you glanced over your shoulder, smiling sharply.

“if you want to know what’s been in my mouth, then come and find out.”

she slipped over like a shadow, walked unrushed and barefoot. her robe parted just enough to flash well-lotioned skin and the flex of lean muscle. her nails were painted a deep oxblood. she didn’t raise her voice when she stopped in front of you, her height even more pronounced in the throes of her possession, but her mouth was hard.

her gaze dropped: first to your gloss-slick mouth, then the dip of your collarbone, then lower still. with it went the last of her mask. her voice grew high and tight.

“did he touch you here?” she asked, reaching out. her fingers hovered. “or was he too busy trying not to cum in his pants the second you sat down?”

you sucked in a breath, heat climbing up the back of your neck.

“you sound jealous,” you said.

“i think you want me to be,” she countered. you had no answer to that.

goosebumps lit up along your arms. you were still warm from dinner, still sticky from the club, but something about ambessa always made you feel brand-new. 

she stepped closer. her hand landed heavy on your hip, fingers sinking in. she wanted you to remember just how bruiseable your body was. her thumb brushed under the edge of your skirt. a threat of a touch.

“did he kiss you?” she whispered, like it would kill her to hear it.

“of course not,” you lied, soft and immediate. you licked along the faded edges of your lip liner.

ambessa smiled. not kindly.

“that’s too bad,” she said. it was so fucking hot that she didn’t mean it.

“did he touch my things?” she asked. her fingers ghosted the curve beneath your top, just under the tight squeeze of your left breast. “put his mouth here?”

“nope,” you answered, popping the ‘p’.

she moved to your hip. “here?”

your breath hitched. you shook your head, slowly. still lying.

“what about here?” her hand slipped behind you, tugged up the hem of your micro-skirt until the under-crease of your ass met the cool air. one finger traced the waistband of your thong. “this was twisted when you walked in. that’s not like you.”

you didn’t answer. your glossed lips just parted slightly, as if something invisible had just struck you. ambessa tilted her head.

“i’ll fix it,” she murmured, voice thick and poisonous. “you know how i hate mess.”

she adjusted the strap of your underwear with surgical precision. the backs of her knuckles grazed the softest part of your skin. she made sure to dip downward, drag a fingertip against your clit just to feel it twitch. 

you didn’t flinch. you couldn’t flinch. then you’d lose.

finally, she stepped back, just barely.

“and what did you have to eat?” she asked, her rounds of questions cinching tighter against your throat with every turn.

you gave a half-shrug, cheeky. “whatever he was paying for.”

ambessa leaned in. she studied you, breath warm across your cheek, and then cupped your chin. with low eyes, she bit at your lip until they opened and then slid her tongue in to make it a proper kiss. she sucked and lapped at you, curling all around the wetness of your mouth and humming with pleasure when you tried to kiss her back.

then she broke the connection, lips almost engorged red from the tension.

you stood there, stunned. her taste now lived on your lips. your pulse lived in your throat.

“well.” she shrugged, casual. “sounds like it was all very unexciting. shall we go to bed?”

she shouldered past you, unconcerned whether you followed.

ambessa didn’t look up from where she was sitting on the bed, not even when you slipped into the bathroom. you left the door cracked, half-inviting her to watch the undressing of you, but she didn’t give you an inch. it was almost worse, that stillness again. how could she withhold and perform perfect patience while her jealousy dirtied her blood?

you brushed your teeth, wiped your face clean of the night, undid your top like it meant nothing, and re-entered the bedroom in just your strapless bra and thong. you tried not to rush. you knew she was waiting for only a second of displayed desperation.

the air was cooler when you stepped out. low lights spilled across the floor from the floating led light bar above the bed. her robe had been abandoned, and her legs were crossed with the intention underneath the scarlet sheer of her babydoll. 

with a stifled sigh of annoyance, you moved toward the dresser to grab your pajamas. but your phone lit up before you could, its thin body vibrating with an incoming call on the bed. it lay there, ringing in suspense of your answer. you squinted and rose on your tiptoes to read the caller id.

[date’s name.]

ambessa’s eyes found it at the same time yours did. she didn’t say anything, but she shut the cover of her ipad case decisively. her gaze lifted to you with the languid, expectant delight of someone about to flip a switch.

“answer it,” she said, voice so even that you knew she must be boiling inside. it wasn’t a request.

your hand hovered. “bessa."

she tilted her head. “you were so sure of yourself earlier. why the hesitation now?”

you sighed, picked it up. “hey,” you greeted, light and airy, as if your best friend wasn’t boring a hole into the side of your head. you were suddenly so aware of your lack of clothing.

ambessa slid off the side of the bed and moved behind you, steps quiet and intentional. she didn’t touch you yet. only looked.

“uh, yeah, i made it home fine,” you said into the phone, forcing a little buyoncy into your voice. “no, it’s cool, i had a great time.”

her hand ghosted over your waist. her fingertips, at first. you turned a fraction of an inch, a subtle warning in your glance. but she wasn’t interested in warnings tonight. she was tuned into her own thing.

you felt the full flatness of her palm, warm and calloused against the small of your back, and then, without further preamble, she pushed you down. you fell with a gasp of surprise, your chest hitting the plush of the mattress and your legs splaying across the cool sheets. 

“shit, sorry! i’m fine,” you said, responding to the sudden concern of the man on the other end of the line. “just tripped.”

you went to twist over your shoulder, but were stopped by a firm hand on the nape of your neck. you froze. this was new. you had no plan for this. carefully, ambessa dragged your hips up until you were in a suitable arch with your ass spilling around the baby pink lace of your thong.

“hold still,” she murmured, lips barely brushing the shell of your ear, “and keep talking.”

you fought to keep your breath even as she bent and placed a heated kiss against your shoulder, sliding further down to tattoo one against your back. her palm flattened over your ass, sliding up and under to grasp at your lower belly. her fingers splayed wide, her mouth finding that soft place between your neck and collarbone.

the graze of her teeth made you moan, which you then tried to transform into a weak excuse for a yawn.

“no, i’m not tired. just—” your voice hitched. she dragged her hand downward, slow as silk through a ring. you felt her tug up the front of your thong, so that your lips bulged obscenely around the rim of the fabric. 

your free hand clenched in the duvet.

“‘m just getting ready for bed,” you lied. or maybe not. maybe this was exactly how it always went with ambessa; submission didn’t look like a loss. you wanted to obey.

the call continued as she dragged the thong away from you, the graze of lace lighting up every nerve. she left it down around your knees, bringing both hands up to spread you wide and dirty. she gazed silently at the bubblegum pink gape of your body, eyes catching the sloppy drip of your pussy as it pulsed open, messy and glistening, your cream leaking onto the sheets with every shaky breath you took.

“such a pretty girl,” she whispered. you heard the rustle of her sliding to her knees. “keep talking or i’ll make you give him a play-by-play.”

she swung herself around so that she could slide under you, hands coming up to clutch at your thighs. you managed to mute the call as she pulled you down, just in time for the wide stripe of her tongue to meet the throbbing heat of your cunt. 

“ohhh fuck, babe,” you groaned, your body falling flush against her mouth. “yeah, holy shit, bessa. right there. please.”

ambessa suctioned her mouth around your clit, suckling and then pulling off with an unnecessary slurp that you knew was done only to make you shiver with embarrassment. 

“put it on speaker.”

then she was back to burying her face inside of you. 

you hesitated. she noticed. she always noticed. her tongue slowed just enough to make it a punishment.

“bessa, i don’t—”

she pulled back, breath damp against your skin. “i said, put it on speaker.”

you fumbled with the phone, thumb slick as you pressed the icon and heard his voice flare through the room. he was still talking. something dumb. something you didn’t care about. 

ambessa hummed, pleased. the vibration traveled straight through your spine.

“hello?” came the tinny voice, tentative now. “you there?”

ambessa hummed again, this time laughing at both of you, and your whole body jolted. you slapped a hand over your mouth, trying not to make a sound, trying not to cum.

“uh-huh,” you said, voice thin and cracking as you ground down into her mouth. “no, i’m—yeah, just—yeah—yeah. shit. um, sorry. thought i dropped the call.”

underneath you, ambessa smiled.

“is this a bad time? ‘cause i can call back.” it was a shame he was sweet. 

ambessa tapped your ass lightly. then sank her teeth into your thigh, not enough to mark, but enough to warn. then she went back in like she had nothing to lose. well, she didn’t. you did.

 hands gripping your ass, she tugged you even lower, lips messy, tongue insistent. you could feel her breath, hot and damp, every time she moaned low, just to rattle you from the inside out.

“you watching something?” your date asked, and you nodded, forgetting that he couldn’t see you for a moment.

“yeah, sorry! i always have something on in the, unh, background while i do my routine.”

he laughed, filing away your distraction as some cute, quirky fantasy. a far more innocent categorization than the situation deserved. “nah, i get it.”

you tried to focus on the call, tried to nod along to whatever the hell he was saying, something about “doing this again,” “seeing you soon.”

ambessa refused to let up. she devoured you, alternating between firm, unrelenting strokes and soft kisses that felt like taunts. you could hear the slick echo of it, each pull and suck wet enough to shame you. and it was all happening on his time. you weren’t yours right now.

you bit your knuckle, shuddering.

she moaned like you were the one doing something to her, then gripped the backs of your thighs and pulled you further down, spreading you open with no mercy. her tongue lapped deliberately, each movement messier, filthier, designed to make you flinch like a liar under a spotlight. you could hear the wetness now. you prayed he couldn’t.

her nose pressed in. her mouth devoured. it wasn’t sweet. it was starved.

“i’d like that,” you said hoarsely. “tonight was so good. you’re so good.”

“oh, it’s like that?” your date replied, voice dipping with misplaced pleasure. this was not about him right now.

ambessa pulled back just long enough to whisper, lips glossy. she spread your lips wide, watched you clench around the emptiness. her chin was glazed with the drool of your need. “but not as good as this, right?”

then she flattened her tongue and drew a line so slow it made your knees buckle. when she grazed your swollen clit with her teeth you whimpered, far too loud. there was a pause on the other end.

“you okay?” he asked, voice laced with confusion now. “you sound a little more than distracted.”

“yeah,” you breathed, forcing a laugh. “swear. just exhausted. you know. long day.”

ambessa pulled your clit back into her mouth like she wanted to keep it, and your body betrayed you with its shivering and arching. she didn’t stop. she didn’t want you to be quiet. she wanted the performance. wanted him to hear you choke on a lie while she tore the truth out of your body.

you grabbed the edge of the headboard with one hand, the phone shaking in the other as you began to bounce. you needed it to end, needed the focus to ride the fuck out of her face.

she squeezed your ass, giggling to herself as she slapped it and you covered your mouth as your brain whited out. 

“hey, look, do you want me to call back? i can let you enjoy your show in peace,” your date offered, tone unassuming and teasing.

ambessa pulled away only long enough to murmur, “answer him, baby. or i’ll do something that’ll make you.”

“no! no, that’s okay. i wanna—i wanna keep talking.”

he said something else, his tone pleased. you couldn’t even hear it, because ambessa was saying something too. between sucks. between strokes. 

“look at you, mama. do you want to cum for me?”

she didn’t wait for an answer. she slid two fingers in, knuckles deep, while her mouth returned to your clit like it belonged to her and no one else. you squeezed your eyes shut tightly, tried to focus on breathing.

“you want to cum for me, right? not him. we can keep him on the phone if you want. let him here how nasty this pussy is.” she pressed open mouth kisses to your cunt as she said it, using two fingers to spread your folds as she made out with it. she slid her tongue in, french kissing it like she’d done in the kitchen before this. “it’s okay, baby girl. i’m feeling generous. let him hear what he’ll never have.”

you slapped a hand over your mouth. your eyes rolled back. the phone slipped from your fingers and hit the bed with a soft thud, still on. still listening.

“oh shit, baby, fuck. i—oh my fucking god, bessa.” you moaned, rolling your hips faster.

“yeah?” she said, uncaring of her volume now. she smiled viciously at the thought of the way that man must be feeling. “you feel good? you like it when i put my mouth on you? come on, use your words for me.”

“yeah. i, mmm, i love—i love it. love it when you eat my pussy. ‘s so good. so fucking good.”

you were bouncing vigourously now, ass slightly clapping against her chin. she didn’t mind, only guided you further into her mouth and whined into you. you were dripping, dribbling all over her face, even slipping down her neck. she reached up, brought the phone closer. 

the squelch of your pussy was obscene, your walls gummy and tightening around her every time she tried to leave. she drove her fingers deeper inside of you, relishing in the way you squealed and tossed your head back. you fumbled with the band of your bra, finally getting it undone and allowed your tits to fall perky and full into your hands. you pinched your nipples, swiveling delicately as you felt that syrupy heat begin to rise. 

“i’m cumming. bessa, i’m cumming, i’m gonna—holy shit—i’m gonna cuuuum.”

ambessa didn’t slow. didn't pause. she held. kept you split open, held down, fingers buried, mouth sealed over you with a precision that felt cruel. her eyes never left your face.

you screamed as you sprayed, thighs snapping shut around her face as you shook and curled inward. the world fell away, your brain tumbling into the searing bliss of an orgasm that was ripping something out of you. your voice pitched high, trembling, frantic, sweet enough to haunt someone for life. then it fell into a vocal blend of three parts: sob, slurred praise, utter disbelief.

the phone was still on, the call still connected. there was silence first. then:

 “…what the fuck,” he said, voice hesitant as if he didn’t want to believe what he heard. “what the fuck, [name]?”

ambessa didn’t even glance at the phone. she just kept going, alternating between fucking and kissing against your mess, tongue soft now, lapping it all up like she was savoring victory. you whined, tried to pull back, too sensitive. she didn’t let you. 

“uh-uh. you can give me another one, pretty girl. i know you want to.”

she made you ride it out, whimpering, breath stuttering against your lungs, throat closing as her tongue still worked slow, torturous circles through the oversensitivity. another cry ripped out of you, lower this time. she chased every twitch and tremble, drank from you like she was feeding.

the line crackled.

“can you not hear me? because i can hear you. i’m still on the fucking phone with you! you’re fucking—what the fuck is this?”

you couldn't even respond. you were still pulsing, convulsing, twitching in her hands. she pressed her mouth against your thigh like a signature. then, with the most obscene casualness, she reached for the phone and brought it to her lips, their fullness still soaked and shining with your release.

she didn’t rush, her hand rubbing a warm circle across your back as you fell into her. she pressed a kiss to your shoulder and then said, voice soaked clean through with honey,

 “wrong number, maybe.”

then she hung up. 

you collapsed forward, gasping into the pillow, body wrung out and wet and glowing like a fever. ambessa crawled up behind you, mouth still damp with you, and kissed the back of your neck like she was about to tuck you into bed.

“good girl,” she whispered.

then she bit you, hard enough to leave a mark. her hands slid up the backs of your thighs, sliding between them to spread you back apart and rub a thumb against your nerve-shot pussy.

“you want me to fill you up, sweeheart?” she murmured. “tell me, and i’ll go get it. make you feel full.”

“fuck you,” you breathed. then, “yes, please.”

ambessa’s laugh curled around you like smoke. one arm draped heavy over your waist, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“be right back.”

© hcneymooners.

⚚ special taglist: @venusiandyke @thatonetargaryen @drgnflyteabox @y2kas13 @blackdykegirlblogger @slut4sevika @joon1uvr @dut1fuldyk3 @imheadintothemountains @bambishaven @kirammansbow @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @nightlyconfusion @sevikasrightboob @half-of-a-gay @nsfwruru @yourlovesicklibra @bluferret @doppelman @savedforlaterr @sevikasserafim @fruitfulfashion @soniiyi @namuranguinho @bubblestrbls @spidercat-soccerfan @pllduniverse @sugrcookiiee @iwasholic @sevslefthand @fxngsfxgxrty @leone007 @kk-iki @jvalentinelvr @bella-goths-wife @maaaaaaaaaaari @marieeeluvsyou @powderpinkandsweeet @pearldaisy @sevikas-whore @wolfessa @lazyartizt @cherryswisherz

[angelluvsrafe]

‘current boyfriend’ prank on rafe

warnings: argument, mean rafe, ✨borderline abuse ✨

writers notes:

you’re scrolling on tiktok while rafe is in the shower. you come across a video of a girl pretending to do a trend with her boyfriend, but in the intro she called him her ‘current boyfriend’ and he got pissed off.

you smiled to yourself as rafe comes back in the room, this is your chance to do it. you look up at rafe. his hairs damp and he has a towel wrapped around his waist.

“rafey, get dressed… i wanna try a tiktok trend” you smile sweetly and he raises an eyebrow. how is he already suspicious?

“what kinda trend…?” he asks hesitantly. you giggle at his nervousness and grab his hand, swinging it slightly and looking up at him with your sweet, pure eyes.

“it’s to see how well we know each other… like we ask questions back and forth…” you smile, hoping he believes you and he struggles to hold back a small smile at your excitement.

“sure… why not” he scoffs and shakes his head, pulling his hand away from yours to get changed. he can’t believe he’s ent

“yay, rafey! i’m so excited…” you giggle and he shakes his head with a smile.

he slips on some grey sweatpants, leaving his tanned torso bare.

once you set up the camera and sat infront of it on the sofa, all his suspicions had gone and he was prepared to answer some questions about you. you press record and start speaking.

“hi guys, me and my current boyfriend are going to do that trend to find out who knows-“

“what the fuck did you just say?” rafe cuts you off and looks over at you.

“i said we’re going to do that trend to find out who knows the other better…” you repeat, trying so hard to keep yourself from smiling or laughing.

he frowns, that small crease between his eyebrows getting deeper.

“no. before that. what did you call me?” he demands and leans forward, getting in your face.

“my boyfriend…” you mumble, starting to think this prank was maybe a bad idea.

“no you fucking didn’t. you called me your ‘current boyfriend’.” he snaps and grabs your neck with his big hands.

“rafe! it was a joke” you try to pull his fingers off your neck but he doesn’t budge. he turns the recording off and throws your phone down on the coffee table.

“i don’t care if it was a fucking joke! you think there will be people after me? huh? you think i’m just something you can play with and then drop when you get bored?” he interrogates through gritted teeth.

“no… it was just a joke… we weren’t actually going to play that game. i just wanted your reaction to what i called you.” you protest but he’s still seething.

“i don’t give a shit. i’m your forever boyfriend, your future husband. never call me that bullshit again. got it?” he raises his eyebrow and tightens his grip on your face.

“yeah…” you agree with him you hope his anger to goes away but he just lets go of you, stands up and walks to his office, muttering something under his breath.

once he leaves, you pick up your phone and see that your phone screen is smashed. great, another thing that he’s broken.

you give rafe a little time to cool off before head through to his office. you find him sat at his desk, just staring at his computer screen.

“rafe…?” you speak up, unsure of how he will react.

he looks up at you, the frown is still there but there’s a softer glint in his eyes now. that gives you the courage to walk over, you stop between his legs and look at him.

“i’m sorry rafey, i really am… i didn’t mean to upset you- i thought we would like laugh about it or something. i don’t know, it was stupid…” you ramble, hoping that the more you talk the less annoyed he’ll be. there’s a beat of silence between you two before he pats your head.

“it’s fine, sweet girl… i overreacted.” he responds with a straight face, you know him well enough that you can tell he really means it though.

you smile and lean forward, your hands resting on his thighs. he presses a soft kiss to your lips and pulls you into his lap. he holds you tightly to him.

“i’ll get you a new phone…” he whispers and kisses your cheek.

[lostinlovingrevery]

Communication

Worst Wolverine X F! Reader

You're having a bad week, Logan can help with that

A/N: Watched deadpool and wolverine and remembered this fic thats been sitting in my wips and im like...okay its time to actually finish something.

Warnings: Smut!!!!!!!!! reader is moody but logan doesn't like being deprived of snuggles, unprotected piv, facial, oral (f! recieving), V rough/slightly forced sex, light bondage, pussy smacking!!! (a lil ouchie), light choking, kinda cockwarming? begging, Logan degrades reader a lil and lectures/taunts her, slut and whore used, petnames too <3, aftercare!

“Getting real sick of your attitude.” 

Logan leans against the doorframe, arms crossed as he stares at you angrily folding laundry. You haven’t said anything to him, but you’ve been stomping around the apartment all day, huffing, scowling at him whenever you think he isn’t looking. He didn’t know what crawled up your ass but he was getting sick of it. 

“What attitude?” You reply, not looking at him. You folded a pair of his jeans, tossing it onto the pile of growing clean clothes on the dresser. He scoffed. 

“Don’t play dumb.”

“Oh-” You swung around, “Dumb? Really?” You scowled at him, turning back to the laundry basket. 

He knows exactly why you’re fed up. The last few days you’ve been stressed- anything and everything has been getting on your nerves, making you upset. He can see that you’re trying to hold it together and not take it out on him or anybody else by avoiding him and not talking to him- However you are horribly failing at that. Depriving him of your usual affections was pissing him off. 

His nostrils flared, as he stepped into the room. “Alright sweetheart, if you don’t want to talk to me-” 

His hand went to the back of your neck, forcing you to turn around as he crashed his lips against yours in a messy, possessive kiss. He bit your bottom lip, tugging it, before moving to lick into your mouth.

“Logan-” You gasped, not trying to pull away, but his sudden intensity was too much- distracting you from the bad mood you wanted to take out on him. 

He shoved you onto the bed, hands going to your shirt

Riiiiip!

You gasped as he ripped your tank top apart. His hands went down to your shorts pulling them- alongside your panties- off roughly and discarding them to the side. He manhandles you, sitting down on the mattress until he’s got you strewn across his lap. You struggle against him- but Logan was much, much stronger than you.

You had no choice but to surrender.

“I’ll just have to get rid of that attitude another way.” He finishes his threat once you are secured in place.

He grabbed your arms, folding them across your back. With one hand he held your arms, keeping you from struggling. 

“Logan-” You whined, only to be interrupted when his hand came across your ass. A loud smack! And you gasped- a moan escaping you as the sting from his hand burned across your cheek. Another smack, and you jumped. 

“Ready to talk about it?” 

You didn’t say anything, and he laughed. Another hard smack! across your ass, his hands soothed over the sting, before he gripped a handful of your ass.

Tears sprung in your eyes, your skin felt on fire, and he smacked you again.

“Lo!” You whined, squirming under him. 

“What? That hurt?” He mocked a sympathetic voice, you turned your head to look at him over your shoulder- still trapped over his lap, one arm pining you to his legs to keep you still, you were helpless to him. No amount of squirming will break you free, not when he clearly has a plan for you. He tilted his head and pouted his lip at you. 

“Yes…” You simpered.

“Boo boo boo…” he taunts with a shake of his head. His hand slid between your thighs, fingers slipping into your folds and for a moment you thought he would grant you mercy- however you were very, very wrong.

Logan doesn’t know the meaning of mercy.

You cried out in surprise as his hand came down on your cunt. 

“That better?” He asks in a low voice, his hand softly pet over your pussy, soothing the sting. When you didn't answer quick enough, he smacked you three more times in a row without a break.

A moan escaped you, arousal beginning to coat your cunt and Logans hand everytime it came in contact with your pussy. He chuckled, his voice took on a mean tone. 

“Getting off on that huh? Dirty girl. Just want me to use you up, is that it?”

“Mm…” You kicked your legs up. Arching your back, and spreading your thighs as best as you could on his lap. Your ass and pussy was on fire but Logan's words only spurred you on. 

His fingers stroked teasingly through your folds, pressing once, twice, onto your clit before running back and circling your hole. 

“Could’ve just asked instead of stomping around all over, huffing and giving me dirty looks.” 

He buried his fingers inside you. 

 An “Oh!” escaped you, as your eyes rolled back to his fingers thrusting in and out, your pussy clenching around him as a slick noise filled the room. Your hands clenched, your nails digging into the palms tight. You tipped your head back and started rocking your hips with the rhythm of his fingers pumping in and out of you. 

Just as you felt that tightening feeling grow in your tummy, Logan pulled away. Another smack came down on your cunt, and you moaned- embarrassingly loud. You couldn’t focus on it, couldn’t focus on anything but him.

“Looked like a damn slut the way you were riding my fingers.” He hums, delivering another smack, to your inner thigh this time.

“Fuck!” You gasped. The wounding feeling dissipated, making you desperate for more. His hands began to massage your thighs, gently, smoothing over the soft skin while your ass and pussy burned from the smacks. “Lo- I want- I need you-”

“You do?” He asks surprised- but you knew it was sarcasm. “You didn’t need me all day, why the sudden change up sweetheart? Hm?” 

You didn’t know how to answer that. A small squirm against his lap, you could feel him hard underneath you and hoped that soon he’ll give in and give you both what you want.

“You pissed me off, so you’re gonna have to wait.” 

He shoved you onto the bed. Standing up, you heard the clink of his belt. You started to push yourself up but he pushed you back down onto the mattress. 

With one hand pinning you down by the back of your neck, with the other hand he took his belt out. He grabbed your arms- binding them together with his belt. The leather pressed into your skin, and the feeling of restriction only made you more needy.

He flipped you back onto your back. Hot, open mouth kisses pressed over your neck and tits, where he nipped and tugged at a nipple- eliciting a groan from you. He glanced up, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

“You’ll take what I feel like giving, got it?” He states, his tone and demeanor unchanging. You pressed your lips together and he reached up to grab your face roughly in his hand. “Hm? Sweetheart?” His voice was mocking with the pet name he used for you. It was your favorite, and he knew it. 

You nodded, and he sneered. He shoved your legs open, returning to kissing and biting your breasts, as he moved down your tummy. 

You whimpered, the feeling of his teeth sinking against your belly, his lips and tongue to soothe over the pain immediately after. 

He spread your thighs further apart, now biting into your inner thigh to make you yelp, before spitting onto your pussy. 

“Fucking soaked. You like me treating you like this darling?” He mutters, his hands coming up to spread the lips of your cunt as he investigates your folds, sending a wave of humiliation. “Your pussy just begging to be fucked.” His fingers swirled over your clit, his thumb teasing your entrance. “She’s drooling. Your attitude’s been depriving her of my damn cock- what you got to say for yourself? She’s all needy.”

He wrapped his lips over your swollen bud, his tongue and teeth working over you and sending you careening. The mixture of pain and pleasure being too much, and not enough at the same time. He sucked at your bud, swirling his tongue in nonsensical shapes before moving down to dip into your hole. A deep moan escaped him at your taste- so damn sweet. He would tell you normally- praise how good you taste. He would sit and lap at your for hours- but you weren’t getting that tonight- no, he was going to make you beg for him.

He stood up, pulling his swollen cock out. He pushed his jeans and boxers down to his thighs, while pulling his white t-shirt off and tossing it to the side. He let out a dramatic groan, creasing his brows together as he took it in his hand- stroking the girth a few times. He used his hands to spread your thighs further apart and pushing it through your folds. 

“Maybe I’ll just get myself off like this, and leave you tied up and crying for my cock the rest of the night. What do you think about that?” 

“No!” You whimpered. “No, please- I’ll be good just fuck me…”

“You’ll be good huh? Little late for that.” 

He kept pushing himself through your folds, his tip bumping against your clit over and over- but not enough to bring you to the peak you so desperately ached for. Your head lolled about, your whines for Logan to please just fuck you- While he focuses on getting himself off through your slick, his thrusts going faster and faster while you were helpless and watched him get off. 

“Logan please-!” Your head fall back. “Please, I’m sorry I was rude- Please just fuck me…” You were nearly in tears now. Frustration of the week has finally built up and was beginning to break through. Logan has given you an outlet but now won’t use it. At least to help you, he was getting by just fine by himself.

His hand came up around your neck. Squeezing it, not tight enough to restrict airflow. Just so you can feel him.

“I don’t know baby, you don’t sound very genuine in that apology.” He coos mockingly. “I think you’re faking it to get what you want- like a little slut huh?” 

“Mm-mm.” You shook your head, lips forming into a pout. “No, I am sweetie, I’m sorry- I need you okay?”

“Hm.” He tilted his head. “What do ya need?”

“Your cock-”

“Yeah? Where?” He stares at you dumbly, his cock in hand, he slapped it against your pussy. He smirked at your expression. “C’mon now, I can’t help you unless you talk to me.”

Fuck

“I need you inside me Lo- I need you to make me feel good, like you always do.” You whimpered and his smirk grew.

“I do, huh?” He tightened his grip on your throat, leaning forward to capture your lips in a messy kiss, tongue and teeth clashing together. When he pulled away, a string of spit kept you connected. “Remember that next time, will ya?” He grumbles under his breath, nipping at your lip.

He aimed himself at your hole, and pushed his tip inside- you gasped from the intrusion, a mix of pleasure and a stretch that made your eyes roll back. He pushed himself without giving you a break until he reached the hilt, leaving himself inside and allowing you just a moment to adjust before he began brutally thrusting into you. 

“Just needed to get fucked like a whore didn’t you?” He growled, He delivered another smack to your puffy cunt, a cry escaping you. His hand tightened around your throat, watching your lips part in a loud moan. He leaned over, spitting onto your tongue. You closed your mouth, tasting him, and tipped your head back, mind clouded in ecstasy. 

He suddenly stopped, pulling out of your and smacking your cunt multipe times- rough and loud. You cried out from the sudden change- a warm fullness switching to quick, sharp smacks. Only for him to slam back into you, pushing one leg up to your chest, while his other hand held your hip firmly pulling you down onto him with each thrust. 

Grunts escaped him, no longer focused on anything else. He used your body like a fucktoy. He pulled out again, flipping you onto your back so you're bent over the bed. Both hands now gripping your hips- the sting of his nails burying into your skin made you hiss- while his hard thrusts made your eyes roll back. 

Each slap of his hips against your ass brought you closer and closer to your coitus. It wasn’t just the way his cock filled you up- how he angled himself familiarly inside you to hit the spot that made your ties curl and your muscles stiffen. The way he used you turned you on, how quickly he made you powerless and forced you to take what he gave. 

It was exactly the cure-all you needed.

He brought one foot up on the bed, while his other hand reached over and grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled it back. You moaned his name. He only grunted in response- and began pounding into you faster. You couldn’t see him but you could picture his face behind you. An animalistic rage in his eyes, lips curled into a snarl, nose scrunched, as he took out his frustrations on you.

It was that image that sent you over the edge. A wave of shock washed over you as you tightened over his large cock- so tight it was almost painful the way you pulsed over him. He gasped, choking back a whine that told you he nearly came from you squeezing around him- not quite ready to do so

He shoved your face into the mattress, his brutal thrusts now turning into a deep rut as he fucked your through your orgasm. You could hear him grunting through his teeth as he slowed- waiting until he felt the last of your pulsing pussy before pulling out and flipping you back onto your back. 

“Open up.” He orders, as he climbs over you onto the mattress, his swollen cock in hand. You were too fucked out to register what he was saying. “C’mon darling.” 

His hand grabbed your jaw, forcing your mouth open as he jerked himself off to completion. Spurts of hot cum came down over your lips and tongue. You stuck your tongue out, trying to catch every bit of his spend as he finished over your face. 

You watched with hazy eyes as Logan pants, his skin flushed and sweaty, yet still managing to look so damn beautiful.

How’d you get so lucky?

He let you lay there as he sat up, catching his breath and admiring his handiwork. Finally pulling his pants back up, he gently rolled you to your side to undo the belt that kept you bound. 

“Wait here princess.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder before sitting back up and disappearing from the room. He came back, a warm, wet rag to gently wipe your face clean. He pressed a couple of soft kisses to your cheek and then your lips. “You alright?”

“Mm… Mhm.” You nodded, sleepily closing your eyes and stretching your arms, a small ache in them from being bound for so long. “I am now.” 

“Good.” He pressed another kiss to your shoulder before moving to pick you up in his arms, adjusting you in bed so you could lie on top of him. “Now, let's talk about whatever the hell's been making you so pissy.”