#because that last part just once again made me think about how they finally finally found their home

[sturn5iolo]

DREAM MAKER & HEARTBREAKER

synopsis: chris had been ignoring you so you show up to a party looking for him, just for him to be with another girl.

pairing: frat boy! chris sturniolo x f!reader

warnings: drinking, angstish??, “no strings attached”relationship, not proofread

mellys note!!: this plot came up in my head while i listened to the song “moon river” by frank ocean… why?? idk? so enjoy

the sound of music blasted in your ears. you were at a frat party, mainly for chris. you knew he was going to be there. you and chris have been an off and on situationship, you knew you loved him. but did he love you?

you walked around trying to look for him, sparing a “hi” to anybody who came up to you but quickly walking away. you were so desperate to find chris because he had been ignoring you for a good few days and something in you made you feel weird. a pit in your stomach bothering you, telling you to look for him.

passing through all the drunken people who stench of alcohol and weed, you finally made it to the living room. your eyes wandered until it made it to the couch. there was chris.

but he wasn’t alone, a skinny brunette girl sat on his lap. her fingers ran through his hair, her other hand resting on his chest as he whispered something in her ear that caused her to laugh. you saw the way his lips tickled her ear, the way his hands stayed on her thighs and the way they laughed and conversed together.

jealousy started seeping out of you, but you stayed in place. your teeth dug into the insides of your cheek and your eyes watered. why were you so upset about this? you question in your head over and over.

you quickly pivot and start to go towards the kitchen counter. there you start to mix all types of drinks into a red solo cup, not even caring about how you will feel the next day. all that you could think about was chris and the random girl.

the alcohol went down your throat quickly and gave you a quick burning sensation. you winced at the taste but you just wanted the drunk feeling.

1 drink turned into 3 into 5 into too many you forgot to count. after taking probably your 9th cup, you hear someone talk to you. “think you’ve had enough?” a deep voice spoke, you look to your side, it was one of chris’ frat brothers. “ohhh heyyy! honestly no i think i need more.” you hiccup out.

before you can grab a cup, chris’ frat bro takes it away. “nope chris will kill me if i let you.” you roll your eyes, “ugh why should he care! he’s with that other girl.” the guy looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed and then chuckles, “damn girl your wasted.”

not even letting him say something else, you turn around and start walking away, not wanting to continue this conversation. somehow you made it outside, the cold wind hit you like the speed of light making you shiver a bit. you sit down on the curb of the sidewalk.

“need some company?” a familiar voice questioned you, chris. your roll your eyes once again and choose to ignore him. you hear him grunt as he sits next to you, “what do you want?” you slur. “well i heard your drunk and alone so i knew i had to find you.”

you twist your head and look at him. you haven’t seen him up close in a few days so you take in his features, and the way they glow by the moonlight. “whatever, go back to that girl you were with.” you whisper but he had still heard you. chris’ tongue glides over his teeth as he nods. “what you jealous?”

you scoff at him, “of course i was chris…how could you ignore me for days then go off flirting with her.” you say “we aren’t official..” chris tries defending himself.

at this point your speechless, you knew he was right so what’s the point on fighting back on this? you both go quiet not having anything else to say to each other.

you stand up very quickly, making you wobble a bit almost losing your balance. “welp im going to head back home! no point of having me here.” you quietly say the last part. chris stands up with you, “did you drive here yourself?” he questions you genuinely curious. you nod at him and try to walk away.

chris grabs your arm, “then no your not. you’re not driving back yourself.” you groan at him, “im not going anywhere with you?!” crossing your arms and standing in place. he rolls his eyes at you and bends his knees. you look at him confused until you feel yourself being lifted off the ground. the quick action made you dizzy, chris held you bridal style and started walking towards his car.

“put me down!” you whined out to him, but he ignored you. unlocking his car and putting you in the passenger seat. he reached over and grabbed the seatbelt buckling you in, “your so damn stubborn all the time jesus.”

[dracaelus]

I have this hc that Bruce started letting his hair grow after his parents died. 

It wasn't a conscious choice; it's just that in the months following their deaths, no one remembered something as simple as his hair appointment. 

Then, Bruce kept seeing his photos all over the city—the photos they took of him the night his parents died, his face covered in blood and tears. Even worse, he saw the other pictures: the ones from back when his parents were alive, the ones where he was smiling at them, the ones where he looked happy. His uncle made sure the press didn't get a single picture of him after he saw the ones they took that night, so they kept posting "new" old pictures just to keep things fresh every time they talked about the Waynes — which they did a lot. Bruce looked at those photos and kept thinking to himself, 

"That's not me." 

He felt light-years away from the kid in the pictures. Bruce hadn't felt like himself since that night. He didn't know who he was now, but he wasn't him. In fact, he didn't even look like him. 

He couldn't remember the last time he smiled. He had bags under his eyes — the kind he'd only ever seen in grown-ups — because he kept having these stupid nightmares every time he tried to sleep. He didn't have his parents with him anymore. And his hair was longer, bc his mom wasn't there to notice and take him to her hairdresser. 

Everything changed. 

His entire life changed. 

And somewhere along the way, his hair became the only proof he had of this. 

So when someone, likely Alfred, finally realized how long his hair had gotten and tried to give him a haircut — to put it lightly, Bruce didn't take it well. He screamed and kicked and ran, and — most importantly — when they managed to cut a lock of his hair, he cried. He cried like he hadn't cried since that night. He sobbed so hard he almost threw up. 

So they let him keep his hair like that. 

And it kept growing. 

It was hard for him to explain why it was so important to him that his hair remained untouched. 

He didn't even care for it — he made no effort to take care of it and only bothered to brush it so it wouldn't look bad enough that someone would try to cut it again. 

It got even more neglected after he started on his journey around the world — there was no threat of anyone cutting it, so Bruce didn't have to worry about keeping it decent. 

When he met Minhkhoa, he was also wearing his hair long. At first, Khoa didn't think much about Bruce's hair, but after seeing how little effort he put into taking care of it, he asked why he didn't just cut it and keep it short.

Bruce's mistake was genuinely trying to explain. 

He talked about how it was a reminder of his parent's death and how part of him was disgusted by the idea of going back to how he was before they were gone. He told him how different and wrong he felt after their deaths and how the thing that scared him the most wasn't the idea that things would never get better, but rather the possibility of returning to how he was when they were still alive, as if their loss simply never happened. Worst of all, he talked about how in a sad way, his long hair reminded him of their absence because it showed no one was taking care of him. 

The tricky thing about his relationship with Khoa is that every once in a while, Bruce would say things about himself and unknowingly trigger a "self-recognition through the other" reaction in Khoa — something Khoa didn't like and almost always led to fighting. 

So they fought. 

Khoa responded to his vulnerability by saying a lot of mean things to Bruce, and then the fight got physical. 

Khoa went to a hairdresser that same day and got his hair cut — something he hadn't thought of doing since leaving home. He eventually learned to cut his hair himself and took special care of it, just to show Bruce how ridiculous he was for thinking he needed to let his hair grow messy and unkept just bc he didn't have a stupid adult to take care of it for him — unlike Bruce, Khoa was more than capable of taking care of himself without help from anyone.

He also tried to cut Bruce's hair in a fit of rage, but his rage wasn't quite as strong as Bruce's. He fought him like a demon, and the fight ended after Bruce bit him so hard it left a scar Khoa carried for many years after. 

Khoa didn't try cutting it again, but every once in a while, when they were at the same place and on good terms — a rarity — he would take care of Bruce's hair. He would untangle the thousands of knots, brush it out, wash and moisturize it until it looked good and felt nice to touch. As a show of trust (or guilt for the bite), Bruce sometimes let him trim the ends. Khoa did this mostly out of pettiness and as a strange and convoluted way of mocking Bruce for his irrationality — but deep down, it was also bc he cared for Bruce, and he could take care of him, couldn't he see that?

Bruce finally cut his hair before going back to Gotham. 

By then, years had passed since his parents' death, and he wasn't afraid anymore. He had made a decision, one that would tie him to them forever, and he didn't need his hair as proof of the transformation he had undergone. He knew what he had become now. 

He cut his hair in the same style he wore in his youth, and when he looked in the mirror, there were still no traces of the kid in those photos. 

He wasn't him anymore.

In fact, he didn't even look like him.

[wehadabondingmoment]

Ok so I finished beau by @buggachat and Adrinette dancing made me think about how at home they must have felt, dancing in their partner's arms asdjkds

[wwooyology]

idol sunghoon getting pissed because of his idol gf got into a dating scandal with his co-member, and his gf liked the way he got pissed, so he decided to show her who she really belongs to (??)

「notes」 : anony c'mere lemme just *😚🧠* you gave me an inch, and I swear I took it like ten miles... so lemme just say that I contemplated this and I may or may not have gone a little stir crazy (that and I'm pretty sure I'm ovulating...), so I sincerely apologize for the nastiness you're about to set your eyes upon 🫣🫣

↳ you can find the add-on part here!

Mark Me Yours | P.SH

「pairing」 : idol!bf!sunghoon x idol!fem!reader 「word count」 : 5k

「synopsis」 : the first time you were caught out with jake by the press it was an accident, but after seeing your boyfriend's jealous reaction you couldn't help but want to see more. so you went out with jake time and time again, even going as far as being a little too friendly with jake just to see how much sunghoon could take before he snapped. though your outcome probably wasn't exactly what you had in mind.

「genre」 : smut

「warning」 : cursing, biting/marking, rough makeout session, fingering, oral (m. & f. receiving), usage of toys, begging, degradation, choking, hair pulling, bondage, pussy slapping, clit play, face fucking, cum eating, dacryphilia, squirting, spitting, kinda toxic possessiveness, mean!dom!sunghoon x sub!reader, unprotected sex (please don't), orgasm denial, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, photography, breeding kink, creampie, manhandling, slight breath play, sunghoon is a bit sadistic, mentions of a safeword (but it's not used), petnames (princess, baby, slut, whore…), mentions of blood, implications of multiple rounds, lmk if I missed anything!

You lay out lazily on your boyfriend's bed, waiting for him to finish his shower after he had a long day at work. Scrolling through Twitter, laughing to yourself as you come across yet another article, 'Timeless y/n and Enhypen Jake Spotted Together Once Again, Coincidence or Not?' This had to be the third or fourth article within the last two weeks.

When the first article dropped after you were spotted with Jake at a local coffee shop, you were beyond worried about how your boyfriend would take it. However, seeing his face twist in annoyance and jealousy flipped a switch in you. The way his jaw would clench when he’d spot people on Instagram or Twitter talking about you and Jake, or when ship edits started to get posted of the two of you, or even when you were sitting in the room alone with just Jake. It was insanely attractive and left you dripping in your panties. 

Sunghoon knew it wasn’t your fault for what the press did or didn’t post, but he also couldn’t help the way that it pissed him off beyond belief every time he saw the photos. 

You then made it your goal to see just how much your boyfriend could take before he finally snapped. So you continued to go out in public with Jake, knowing you could be spotted just so you could get a rise out of your boyfriend. After the first week or so, you stepped it up a little bit. Getting a little too friendly with Jake, laughing at his jokes a little too hard, your hands wondering his body a little too much, your voice a little too surly when you talked to him, being just a little too close. Jake, of course, was oblivious to all of your little antics, thinking you were just being friendly and sweet like you usually were. It started to drive Sunghoon up a wall, so much so that he had to avoid being in the same room as Jake so he wouldn’t lash out at the poor boy. Eventually, he caught on to what you were trying to do, and he could feel his blood boil. He could handle you being a brat, but this? He was damn near his wits end, a hair away from snapping.

Coming back to the present, you were snapped out of your thoughts when a knock at the door was heard. Muttering a quick ‘come in,’ you weren’t too surprised to see Jake standing there, hands stuffed in his hoodie pocket.

“Hey, Jakey.” You smiled sweetly at the boy who returned your gesture before looking around the room, presumably looking for your dark-haired boyfriend.

And just as you thought, the question fell from his lips, “Where’s Sunghoon?”

“He’s in the shower,” you told him, and Jake nodded before walking over, flopping down onto the bed, his upper body draped over your lap. 

“Did you see the new article?” He pouted as he started to pick at the end of your skirt, causing you to smile, but you nodded your head before tilting your phone screen down to show him that you had been reading it. Jake sighed dramatically, his face falling into the side of your thigh, “I hope they stop soon. I’m pretty sure Hoon is gonna strangle me the next time one comes out.” He shivered at the thought, causing you to start laughing.

You knew he was right. Sunghoon has been avoiding Jake like the plague for the past few days. Anger and annoyance are the main expressions he wears anymore. His jaw is always locked tight, afraid he might say the wrong thing. But you were enjoying it, maybe a little too much.

Just then, the bathroom door swung open, ceasing your laughter as Sunghoon walked into the room, towel in hand, drying his damp hair. However, as soon as his eyes landed on you and Jake in his bed, you could have sworn you saw a fuse blow in his head. His eyes darkened into a glare, demanding that Jake leave, not a single bit of room left open for discussion. 

Jake nearly levitates off of the bed before rushing out of the room as quickly as he possibly could, not wanting to be at the end of your boyfriend's wrath. You watched with an amused smirk as Sunghoon's eyes trailed from the doorway back to you.

“Is this really that amusing to you?” His voice was cold as he walked towards the open door; it sent a shiver down your spine and your thighs clenching together. You, however, just hummed with a shrug before looking back down at your phone. You peeked over the top of it, excitement bubbling in your chest as you watched Sunghoon slam the door shut before turning the lock. The moment you had been waiting for was finally about to happen; you finally got him to snap. You mentally cheered, completely missing the borderline psychotic gleam in your boyfriend’s eyes.

Sunghoon walked back to the end of the bed, a snarl pulling on his upper lip, revealing his pointy canine. The very canines you wished would mark your body up, leaving behind puncture wounds and bruises even though you would get a lot of shit from your manager and makeup artist. He never did, though, because he knew the stakes; however, now? Now, all of those thoughts. All of the sane thoughts, really. Completely vanished from his mind.

He leaned over the bed, grabbing your outstretched ankle before yanking your body down to him. A small gasp fell from your lips at the sudden action but was quickly quieted when you bit your tongue as Sunghoon hovered over you, slotting his body against yours. 

The dark, lustful look in his eyes had your body wiggling in anticipation, a shock rushing through your veins when you felt his erection against your thinly covered core. Thinking back to all of the stuff you did to get here made you giggle because you thought you had finally won. Or so you thought. Sunghoon, on the other hand, found it far, so far, from amusing.

“Well, see how much you’ll be laughing, princess,” He chuckled darkly before his slender fingers wrapped tightly around your throat, causing your breath to hitch, but all the air was soon taken out of your lungs when he kissed you hard.

A cry tore from your lungs when he bit down on your bottom lip before sucking on it. You were sure that it had drawn blood, but your mind was quickly bought elsewhere when his other hand cupped your boob, squeezing harshly. 

“You just like the attention, huh?” He growled, nipping at your jaw, “You’re just a little attention whore, is that it?” 

You whined as his grip on your throat got tighter, not enough to completely cut off your air supply, but definitely enough to make you feel a little lightheaded. Sunghoon was typically always rough when it came to sex, but this? This was new, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on even more.

“Don’t think I don’t know what your little game was.” His voice was deep, sending shock waves throughout your body, “How you purposely left with Jake knowing the press was watching,” He moved his hand, allowing you to breathe, but not long before he sunk his teeth into the soft flesh of your neck causing you to cry out his name, “or how you threw yourself all over Jake…” Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as he continued to bite and suck on your neck, leaving deep purple and red marks. “All for what, huh? My attention? Well, guess what, princess, now you have it.” 

You knew you probably pushed him way over the edge the moment he started to mark up your skin. While his hands were tight enough on your body, you were sure they’d leave bruises behind. Then that dark lust that clouded his eyes was the final ringer that let you know, ‘oh I really fucked up’. 

“Hoon-” “What’s the safe word?” Oh, you definitely fucked up; you knew he never mentioned the safe word unless he was going to be rough. The two of you only came up with it just as percussion, mainly when you tried something new. But for him to ask now when you could clearly see the anger in his eyes? Yeah, you were screwed.

When he didn’t get an answer quickly enough, he grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks together, and moved his face merely inches away from yours.

“What’s. The. Word. Y/n.” Sunghoon snarled, enunciating every word with a glare. Your eyes were wide, not quite out of fear but something else you weren’t sure what to call.

“Purple.” You responded to the best of your ability with his hand on your face, eyes staring into his.

Then he let go of your face before pushing off of your body, standing flat on his feet. You pushed yourself up, eyes on him, ready to ask what he was doing. However, his voice was quick to beat you to it.

“Strip and on your knees.”

The tone of his voice was already enough to leave you dripping in your underwear, but the way his eyes bore into you made your whole body shiver. This new side of Sunghoon was something you never thought you would need, but it is now. You wanted so badly to disobey him, but you knew that if you continued to push his buttons, he wouldn’t hesitate to leave you without cumming. 

So, with shaky legs, you pulled yourself to your feet before slowly undoing the button on your skirt and letting it fall to the floor. You could feel Sunghoon’s fiery gaze on you as you pulled your shirt over your head and threw it somewhere in the room. Once you were left standing there completely bare before him, Sunghoon walked over and put his hand on your shoulder, pushing you down onto your knees.

“Now be a good girl and put that pretty mouth of yours to use,” He spoke lowly, his finger combing through your hair until he got to the crown of your head. A whimper fell from your lips as you placed your hands on his thighs to stabilize yourself when he tugged your head back harshly. “And I swear to god you try to tease, I will leave you here tied to the bed with a vibrator attached to your cunt.” The way his upper lip pulled back to show his pointed tooth, you knew he wasn’t lying.

"O-Okay," You choked out as he cranked your neck back a little more, eliciting a cry from your lips. He then let go, standing straight again, allowing you to slightly relax your neck. You wasted no time pulling his sweatpants' string loose before hooking your fingers around the waistband to pull them down. Once his pants were pooled at his feet, you lifted yourself up a bit, mouth watering at the sight of your boyfriend's dick.

Sunghoon then held something out to you, and your eyes went wide at the sight of the little pink egg, “Put this in that needy little hole of yours, and don’t you dare cum without my permission.” Your gaze shifted from the little toy to your boyfriend’s hooded gaze before taking it into your hand.

You kept your eyes locked with his as you brought the toy down to your pulsating heat, rubbing it up and down to collect your slick to use as lube. The slight stretch it offered left a whine falling from your lips, but it wasn’t nearly enough. That’s what you thought, at least, until a sudden vibration caused your whole body to jolt and a moan to slip past your lips. Then it was gone. Sunghoon watched from above as your body relaxed a bit, your eyes shifting to meet his once more.

He then grabbed himself at the base before tapping the head against your lips, prompting you to open your mouth. You parted your lips, sticking your tongue out, letting him drag his tip across your wet muscle, hissing at the contact. Shuffling a bit closer, you encased your lips around his tip, causing him to groan. Sunghoon gathered your hair into a makeshift ponytail before thrusting his hips forward, sheathing his entire length in your mouth. Thankfully, your gag reflex was almost nonexistent; otherwise, you were sure you would be a choking mess. 

His pace started out steady; his hold on your hair kept your head in place. Until he found his rhythm, and his hips snapped forward, hitting the back of your throat, causing tears to prick at the corner of your eyes. Then the little toy inside of you buzzed to life, causing a moan to tear through your throat, muffled by his dick. The vibrations caused Sunghoon’s head to fall back with a groan.

Your head started to go fuzzy with pleasure as Sunghoon continued to piston his hips until your nose brushed his pelvis bone. The vibrations then kicked up, causing your body to jolt, nails to dig into his thighs, and you to moan around his cock. All of the sensations were overwhelming, and you weren’t sure if you would last much longer, but then Sunghoon’s words echoed in your brain. Knowing that he would punish you even more if you came without his permission, you tried your best to hold it in.

The drag of his cock along your tongue was enough to have your eyes roll back as you pressed the wet appendage against him.

“Fuck, this is supposed to be a punishment, yet you look like you enjoy sucking my dick.” He chuckled darkly before a throaty groan broke from his lips, his hips stuttering as he got closer to his high. You hummed around him, trying to keep yourself grounded, but you nearly choked as he turned the vibrations up to the highest setting. Tears were spilling from your eyes as you screwed them shut, pleasure overriding your senses.

Sunghoon wanted to burn this image into his memory, the tears running down your flushed cheeks. How the mixture of his pre-cum and your saliva dripped from your chin. The dark purple and red bite marks that covered the skin of your neck. The way your hips rocked against nothing but the air as you struggled to keep from tipping over the edge. God, it was a picture-perfect sight; if he could, he would share it with the world. A clear sign that you were his.

The thought of all of your guys' fans seeing it drove him over the edge, his dick twitching in your mouth as he painted your throat white. An animalist growl tore through his mouth as he rocked his hip, riding out his high before shutting the vibrator off. He then pulled out of your mouth, watching as you closed your lips, swallowing his seed without a word. You then opened your mouth once more, tongue lolling out to show him.

He then tugged on your hair, causing you to whine as you stood on wobbly legs. Not giving you a moment to breathe before his lips found yours in a heated kiss. He groaned at the taste of himself on your tongue before maneuvering you back until your knees hit the bed. A gasp fell from your lips as Sunghoon picked you up and crawled onto the bed before laying you flat on your back. 

Sunghoon pulled away from your lips, pressing hot, wet kisses along your jugular down to your breast before encasing one of your nipples in his mouth. A breathy moan escaped your parted lips as your fingers ran through his hair, tugging slightly. 

A loud cry escaped from your lips, and tears fell from your eyes when the vibrator kicked back to life. Your hips bucking against Sunghoon’s body, and your hands tugging on his hair. The male smirked as your body tensed underneath his, listening to every little noise that left your pretty lips.

“Hoon- fuck!” You cried out when you felt his slim fingers prodding at your entrance, thumb pressed against your clit. There was no way you were going to be able to last long at this rate, but when you met his dark gaze, you knew you had no other choice.

Your back arched off of the bed when he pushed two of his fingers into your pussy, pushing the little egg further in. A lewd, pornographic moan tore from your lungs when it pressed against your sweet spot.

“Found it,” Sunghoon chuckled, pulling his mouth away from your tits to watch as your body convulsed under him. His fingers started to pump in and out of your slick walls while turning the vibrator up.

Your ears were ringing, and your brain was starting to go blank as your body became overwhelmed with pleasure. Moans and cries of Sunghoon’s name fell from your lips like a mantra, and you could feel that little knot tighten to the point of almost snapping.

“‘M close! Hoon, please!” You cried out, back arching off of the bed as your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head. Then, just like that, your orgasm was ripped away from you when Sunghoon pulled not only his fingers out but the vibrator as well. Pleas and whines slipped past your swollen lips as your vision focused, but your words were cut short when Sunghoon wrapped his fingers around your throat once more.

“Oh no, baby, you seem to have forgotten.” He left a chaste kiss on the corner of your lips before moving to your ear, “this is a punishment, you’ll cum when I say you can.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you locked eyes with your boyfriend, your mind reeling. This wasn’t how you expected things to go; sure, you knew he was going to punish you, but this? Your whole body was on fire, and the touch of Sunghoon’s finger felt like it was searing your skin, leaving behind traces of his touch.

Your jaw fell slack as Sunghoon slipped his fingers back into your dripping cunt, moving at a harsh pace. His thumb presses down in tight circles on your clit. Cries left your lips as you tried to push your boyfriend's hand away from your sore hole, but he was quick to grab your wrists with a growl, pinning them above your head.

“Don’t be a brat, be a good little slut and take my fingers.” His words stung in all the right ways, and your cunt squeezed around his fingers. Sunghoon smirked before catching your lips in a bruising kiss, muffling all the moans escaping your throat.

Your head fell back as you tried to wiggle your hips away from Sunghoon’s hand, the sensation becoming too much, almost mind-numbing. Sunghoon pulled his fingers out before landing a firm smack on your clit, causing a loud cry to fall from your lips, tears flowing down your cheeks.

“What did I say?” His tone was a low growl, sliding his finger back in.

“Please, Hoon, it’s- fuck! ‘S too much.” Your cries only spurred your boyfriend on, speeding his fingers up.

Broken sobs fell from your mouth as you felt that same knot in your gut reappear, but you knew that he would just rip that away. Your nails dug into the palm of your hand as you tried to ground yourself, but his fingers just kept rubbing your velvet walls in all the right ways, making stars cloud your vision. And then it was gone once again.

Sunghoon’s dick twitched at the sight of your tear-streaked face, loving how your makeup smeared under your eyes, how tears stuck to your eyelashes as you looked up at him with the fuck-out expression he loves so much. His eyes then traveled down the length of your body, your hands pinned so perfectly under his, the love bites that littered your neck and chest, the sheen of sweat that coated your body, then, finally, your dripping cunt. Your slick leaked out onto his sheets, leaving a wet patch. The sight made him rock hard once more, to the point that it almost hurt.

His silence was worrying to you because you couldn’t tell what he was thinking, let alone what he was going to do next. Just then, he released your wrist before leaning over to his bedside table. Your eyes widened as he pulled out the bundle of black rope, shaking your head frantically.

“No, no, I’ll be good, I promise! Sunghoon, please.” You begged, tears streaming from your eyes. However, those pleas were cut short when he glared down at you, holding his hand out for yours. “Sung-”

“Hands. Now.” His tone left no room for negotiation, and with a whine, you placed your hands in his. Watching as he bound your wrists together before pulling them above your head to attach them to the headboard. Once you were locked in place, he leaned down, face mere centimeters away from yours. “Should have thought about that before, huh?” His voice was harsh, his eyes gleaming, almost sadistic. “Maybe I should mark up this perfect body of yours; then maybe you’ll get the idea that you’re mine.” 

You bite your lip as he moves down your body, hooking his hands under your thighs, lifting your lower half until your ass rests on his chest, legs hanging over his shoulders. The position was extremely uncomfortable, but that soon slipped away from your mind when his lips latched to the inside of your thigh. Your breathing was ragged, breathy moans and whines falling from your lips as he left bites and marks all along your inner thighs.

Once he was satisfied with all of the marks, he moved down, blowing on your drenched pussy, watching as you clenched around nothing. Sunghoon gathered a ball of saliva in his mouth before letting it drop onto your clit, watching as it trailed down to join the abundance of slick. Your eyes watched his movements, lips tucked between your teeth. He then dived right into your pussy, licking a long stripe from your slit to your clit before harshly sucking on the bundle of nerves, eliciting a strangled moan from your lungs.

“Holy shit!” You cried out as your head flew back into his pillows, hips bucking into his face. Sparks flew across your vision as he held onto your hips, tight enough to halt any of your movements.

Sunghoon then trailed back down to your slit, sticking his tongue in, tasting your sweetness as it gushed out onto his tongue. He hummed at the taste, sending vibrations through your core and making you cry out his name, hands clenched into fists above your head. He continued to eat you out like a starved man while you were a whining mess under him, tugging on the restraints, hoping they would budge, but they didn’t.

“Hoon- fuck, please don’t stop.” You cried out, head falling back as he latched his lips to your clit once more, drawing patterns on the little button. The pillow under your head had your tears stains on it as the salty liquid continued to flow from your eyes at the instrumental amount of pleasure you were feeling.

You begged him not to stop as you felt that knot reappear once more, hoping that he would finally let you have that release. Sunghoon smirked against your core, listening to your choked pleas and moans. His movements didn’t let up as your body started to twitch, a tell-tale sign that you were close.

“Cum for me slut.” He growled against your skin; the mixture of the vibrations and his teeth slightly scraping against your clit had you toppling over the edge. Your body convulsed in his hold, toes curling behind his head and his name leaving your mouth in a borderline scream. It all just spurred your boyfriend on as he continued to devour you, easily throwing your body into overstimulation.

All of your body muscles tensed, and your shoulders grew sore from the angle at which they were placed. You were sure that your legs wouldn’t be usable the next day, nor would your voice, but that was a problem for future you to worry about. Right now, your brain is far too cloudy to think straight, pleasure drowning all of your senses.

A silent scream tore through your lips as Sunghoon placed the little vibrating egg against your clit. Your legs moved to snap close, but Sunghoon was quicker than that, grabbing hold of one of your thighs and keeping it in place. The mixture of the vibrations and his tongue buried in your cunt had your legs shaking by his head, another orgasm already on the horizon.

Inchohent moans and noises fell from your lips as he brought you over the edge once more, eyes squeezed shut. Sunghoon slurped up all of your juices, not leaving a single drop before pulling the vibrator away from your twitching clit. He then kissed the bundle of nerves, causing a small squeak to leave your lips. Your eyes then opened slowly, meeting Sunghoon’s eyes as he looked down at you with a smug look.

As he laid your body down, you could feel your muscles relaxing, and you closed your eyes, trying to catch your breath. However, your eyes snapped open when you felt the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance.

“You didn’t think we were done already, did you princess?” He chuckled, watching the shock on your face morph into pleasure as he slid in with little resistance. Your nails dug into the palm of your hand as a choked sob tore from your lungs.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” The word fell from your lips in a rushed chant as Sunghoon’s hips started to slam against yours. “‘S too much, Hoon!” You cried out as your back arched off the bed.

“No, it’s not; just shut up and take it,” Sunghoon growled, hands holding onto your hips with a vice-like grip. A high-pitched squeal broke through your parted lips when his hand came up and wrapped around your throat once more, “who’s pussy is this? Who’s making you feel this good? Who do you belong to?”

“You.” The words choked through your lips, but that didn’t fully satisfy the male; no, he wanted to make sure everyone knew. 

Leaning down, he ghosted his lips over yours, “Then say it.”

He then leaned back up and pounded into your sensitive cunt making your head spin, “Fuck! Yours, Sunghoon!” You screamed as your head fell back, missing the sadistic smirk on your boyfriend’s lips.

Sunghoon continued to thrust hard and deep into you, his pace never slowing, and you could already feel another orgasm creeping up. The words came out jumbled as you tried to warn him, his fingers squeezing the flesh on your neck. 

You were clenching around his dick like crazy, causing him to groan, “fuck keep doing that, and I’m bound to breed this cunt of yours.” The words only made you clench around him again, making him chuckle, “You want that, don’t you? You want my seed filling your womb until you’re sure to get pregnant, huh?” You mewled at his words, fucked out eyes looking up to beg.

Seeing the expression on your face almost drove Sunghoon over the edge, your tear-stained cheeks and glossy eyes that were begging him to cum inside, then your swollen lips that were parted as you moaned out his name. Fuck he wasn’t going to last much longer. Taking his hand off of your neck, he moved down to press his thumb against your clit, circling it in tight circles. Your hips bucked at his touch as your nerves were set aflame once more. The knot in your stomach tightened to an unimaginable level, but this one felt different. Like your body was about to burst, but before you could even get the chance to warn Sunghoon, your orgasm hit. Your release gushes out in waves, coating your and his thighs. A loud pornographic moan fell from your lips, and Sunghoon cursed under his breath at the sight. 

“You fucking squirted, you filthy whore.” He chastises you, his hips stuttering as he feels his high creeping up. A whine fell from your lips as he continued to fuck into you at a harsh pace until he finally tipped over the edge with a groan, painting your gummy wall white. 

Sunghoon continued to rock his hips into yours, riding out his high before coming to a complete stop. His eyes squeezed shut, feeling you wrapped around his still semi-hard dick, milking him for all he was worth. Opening his eyes, he let the flutter down to where the two of you were still connected, groaning at the sight of the white ring around the base of his cock. He wanted to capture this moment. So he did.

Leaning over, he grabbed your phone, which had been haphazardly thrown to the side, before opening the camera, ignoring the article you had pulled up. You didn’t even realize what he was doing as you tried to catch your breath until you heard the shutter click. Your eyes opened at the noise, surprised to see your boyfriend aiming the camera down at where his dick was still sheathed inside of your cunt.

Sunghoon could feel himself grow hard again at the sight, wanting nothing more than to make a big mess of the two of you. Swiping on the screen, he switched to the video recorder and hit the little red button before rocking his hips against yours. A whimper fell from your lips as he continued to toy with your puffy cunt.

"Oh, I'm not done with you yet, baby…" he chuckled darkly, his eyes meeting yours. "Far from it."

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[d1stalker]

The Feeling's Mutual | Part One

[Logan Howlett x Mutant!Reader]

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

PART TWO PART THREE FINAL PART

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

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

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

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

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

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

This wasn’t just a shared route. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it was.

For a minute. 

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

What the fuck? 

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

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

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

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

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

Whatever was coming next, you needed to be ready.

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Looking for someone?” you call out sarcastically.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finally, he asks, “You got a name?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut the fuck up, Wolverine”

“It’s Logan, actually.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…So… where exactly are we going?”

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

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

“Fuck off”

"Well, too late for that now."

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

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

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

[xjulixred45x]

I could't contain myself guys sorry--

Bro, do you realize how scary it would be to have Vox as a Yandere?

just imagine it. You could be one of his workers, maybe too good at your job, because not only do you do what Vox tells you without asking questions, but you also know what to say and what not to say to avoid a "tantrum" from him. or rather, when his insecurities attack with force like when Alastor returns.

Vox would probably be a somewhat condescending yandere (as seen with Val) but don't think you can't turn tables easily, if you stroke his ego enough, you can have him around your finger. but that doesn't make it any less dangerous for those around you.

He makes the typical 180 degree turn in attitude when it comes to Other Employees and when it comes to You. Damn, you may be the only one of his employees who gets paid vacations (or even vacations) or even birthday bonuses, things like that. He likes to give you his things or products with the excuse that "they are for testing" even if they have already been released on the market.

Like:

Vox: who the fuck eat My leftovers!?! WHENEVER WHO WAS I'M GOING TO-

Darling: it was me sir.

Vox:--give You the rest and take You out for lunch, You haven't eaten in the whole day AGAIN, didn't ya?

He definitely avoids conflict with you by hypnotizing you, when he starts to feel hostility, fear on your part or that you want to leave, he makes you "out of nowhere" have "ONE MORE TASK" and you can't help but do what he says.

and IT IS NOT just to avoid fights or for you to leave, it is something CONSTANT (once every two days MINIMUM), although Vox is not worried about your brain turning into mush due to its powers, it always keeps nutritious things in your diet and they come out relatively often , as you have to follow him everywhere.

Eventually he becomes more clingy and needy in this case, it's practically not that he's proposing to you or anything, he's just slowly dragging you into a relationship without you realizing it (because you're not lucid enough). Unless you develop a higher level of tolerance to his hypotonic trick, I don't think you'll notice his Red Flags.

I think it would be ESPECIALLY BAD if Darling is also a Sinner, because then they wouldn't even be able to get out of the pride ring to run away from Vox. leaving you with many fewer options and having to avoid all of Vox's technology, which you could only achieve by 1- going to the Cannibal Legion or 2- going to the Hazbin Hotel.

Running away is EXTREMELY DIFFICULT, not only because of his hypnotic trick, but because he literally has EYES EVERYWHERE, on every screen in hell. If you somehow manage to get away with it and run away, Vox would be SO ANGRY and looking for you all over hell with their screens.

Although definitely if you were gone more than a day, he would be more distraught than angry and would begin to despair. Even Val and Velvet would give him a hand because of how bad it would be.

Just imagine, thinking that you finally lost sight of Vox's search drones, without realizing that you stand in front of some store and VOX ITSELF appears on the screens :)

If you made the stupid decision to go to the Hazbin Hotel, Vox would be distraught and would even think that Alastor was somehow holding you hostage, obviously! Why would you go there if you knew his biggest enemy was there? Alastor must be using you as a bargaining chip! How dare he!?

(in this case, fortunately, the punishment is much less severe, but he would definitely monitor you for the rest of your life)

When he eventually gets you back (after a few days or even WEEKS of anguish) expect, first of all, to be in a mortal embrace that lasts AT LEAST 2 days and then receive your "punishment" which would be to be under hypnosis for AT LEAST 1 YEAR to be sure that this NEVER HAPPENS AGAIN.

Although calm down! He gives your mind breaks periodically because 1- he doesn't know if that would ultimate mess with your head and 2- it's nice to hear YOU talk instead of the robotic version.

When that year FINALLY ends, you will be a much more obedient, more terrified, sweeter version of You, according to Vox, like a frightened Deer. It was a long and hard process, but the good thing is that you don't have to do anything anymore! absolutely! Just do what he tells you and everything will be fine.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

Not one of the Best yanderes to have, but Def not the worst

[a-b-riddle]

Part 10

Can't stop thinking about reader realizing she fucked up.

"What?" You asked, unsure if you heard him correctly. "I did stuff for Simon." He opened his mouth slightly before shutting it, almost as if he was afraid to argue with you. He was. "I did things for Simon." You repeated. "I did."

You took pause. Racking your brain for examples to throw in his face. You had always tried to be the best girlfriend. and look where it had gotten you. You were always the one to reach out, to plan dates. The only one to manage your time equally among all of them even if it meant stretching yourself then.

But the more you thought, the more you came up short.

"I definitely treated Simon the same." You defend.

Here lately you had been spending more time with the others than Simon. Every evening was the same without fail. He would call you no later than 9, asking if you were busy. Sometimes you were already out with the others, but in the instances you weren't Simon would ask to come over. An excuse of not being able to sleep.

When he first gave you that excuse, you expected him to be using it as just an excuse to come over and fuck you.

But he didn't.

Not that night. Or the next.

The third time he did fuck you. He was a man, not a saint after all. You weren't sure if it was because he was the last one you got around to being intimate with, but it just felt different. The others were great. Letting you turn your brain off and letting them take control.

Where the others took the reins, Simon guided you. It was more like dancing than fucking. Your bodies working in harmony with one another. He would listen intently to each little moan or staggered breath you took. Wouldn't take his eyes off of your face when he ate your cunt. Wanting to take in every reaction you would give him.

He had created a flow of how to fuck you. A way to ensure he pulled several orgasms from you before you practically passed out from exhaustion. You would try and switch things up with different positions and giving him head, but Simon was a simple man. Once he found a way that worked, he stuck with it. He let you indulge. Spicing things up, but he always made a home in between your thighs at some point.

It had been like that ever since. Over and over again like clock work, he would call. He wouldn't always fuck you. Mostly either one or both of you complaining about a hard day and insisting on just having the company of the other. However, it wasn't until Mere had made a comment on why she hadn't met Simon yet.

It was like finally noticing something on a commute you took everyday. Day in and day out you came across it without every really taking note. How oblivious you had been.

Simon had only came over at night. Although he would bring take out or cook dinner with you, he had never taken you out on a date. Not even so much as a cup of coffee-- tea in his case.

You pressed him about it one night.

You seem pretty busy during the day. Plus, that's when I catch up on sleep was his reasoning and you didn't press him.

Simon had always complained about not being able to sleep. You didn't mind the company. So whenever he called and you were free. That's just how the relationship had been between you two. You both seemed satisfied with the dynamic.

"It was just different with me and Si," you defended. "He didn't need any help from me or ask it." You wanted to say he hadn't been as needy as Johnny, Kyle or John, but kept that opinion to yourself.

"Or did he just not feel like he could ask you?" Kyle's question gave you a moment of pause. Your mouth falling open. Appalled at the suggestion.

"Don't try and turn this around on me." You narrow your eyes at Kyle and his audacity. You were the one who was hurt. You didn't like being the victim, but in this scenario you were. "If Simon had any issue he would have said something."

"Like you did with us?" He asked. His boldness growing. "And I'm not trying to turn this around on you, I'm just saying that there everyone had their issues in not communicating on what was really going on. I should have told you how I felt, they should have told you and you should have told us."

"Oh," you said, head tilting to the side and condescension lacing your tone. "So when was I supposed to do that? When John was snapping at me or Johnny had his tongue buried inside of me. God knows you weren't exactly answering my texts and Simon had been the only one I didn't have issues with."

"But you still came to him about us." Outed was the only word fitting enough to describe how you felt. You had tried to keep your relationships separate as well as the issues and frustrations that came along with it.

"He told you?" You asked, feeling embarrassed and, somewhat, fearful about what exactly Simon had said to them. The asshole was just so easy to talk to. For someone who was so reserved, you found it second nature to open up to him. "When?"

"Any chance he got." Kyle huffed. The confession shocked you. If anything, yes, maybe John would have been the one to tell the boys to fall in line if he knew they were falling short, but Simon? The man who couldn't ever be bothered to plan a date?

"I don't understand." You shook your head as if that would jumble the pieces of your thoughts well enough that they would somehow fit together; painting you a clearer picture. "Simon... he..." His words echoed in your mind. Even now they still haunted you. A ghost reminding you of your naivety. "He said some really shitty things."

"I know." Kyle's face fell and you could almost see the anger flicker in his eyes before it extinguished into something more solemn. "He knew he was the last thing holding you to us. Severing that tie would make it easier for you to lease."

"Losing you wasn't easy." You replied through clenched teeth. Tears prickling your eyes. "Is that what you think? That this has been easy for me?"

"I don't think it's been easy, but I know it's the truth." A small part of you knew he was right. And you hated him for it. "Simon was the only one putting in any effort on our end. He was the only reason we didn't lose you sooner." He took your hand in his. Rubbing small circles in your palm. Something he did to soothe. Funny how now the gesture was breaking your heart. "If it's any consolation, he didn't mean what he said."

You scoff, tears now falling as you pull your hand from him. "Just because he didn't mean it, doesn't mean it's not true." You cross your arms over your chest. No longer giving him the chance to try and reach out again.

"Do you think any of us actually felt that way about you?" Kyle asked, his tone a mixture between disbelief and sorrow. He knew Simon's words were meant to cut, but their actions had made his declaration deem true.

"You didn't exactly prove otherwise." The confirmation causes him to falter, not knowing what to say, how to comfort you. It was like somewhere along the way he had lost the knowledge on how to treat you, how to care for you. It was like he didn't know you, but still loved you all the same.

It was killing him.

After several uncomfortable moments of silence, he spoke. "I know John told you we were all on our own in terms of fixing this. But I want you to know that we all regret how we went about things. How we treated you was unacceptable and there is truly no excuse. I can only hope that you let us have the privilege in at least trying to make it up to you."

You let out a breath. Your chest aching as a sob threatens to bubble to the surface.

You swallow it down.

"So I take it then Johnny is taking the same route as Simon?" You couldn't blame him. You had put the final nail in the coffin of your relationship. Fucking and leaving him like that... Not to mention all the details Kyle gave you of the aftermath. No doubt Johnny would feel like being forgiven was pointless by now.

"Johnny is chomping at the fuckin' bit." He laughed. "If Simon and Price weren't keeping a leash on him right now he'd be here right now and I don't think we could get him out of here a second time."

"Well three out of four then." You sighed. "I just can't believe it got this far." Shaking your head, you leaned back against the cushions "I mean, I get that all of you had your own lives, families and stuff going on... But even then, I can't believe Simon found it so easy to say those things. Looking back, yeah, I wasn't girlfriend of the year, but I wasn't a bad girlfriend."

Silence.

"Kyle?" He bit his lips. He wanted to say something. "Kyle." You pressed. "Out with it."

"You don't need to bring it up."

"Fine." You said, but technically didn't promise anything.

"And it's not your fault for forgetting." Your patience was growing thin. Your emotional battery was low and even with a good nights rest you knew it would take a while before it recharged. "Fuck," Kyle rubbed his face, contemplating best how to tell you. "The night you called Simon..." he explained. "It was April 25th."

You waited, not completing grasping what he was trying to say.

April 25th...

What was so damn special about April 25th that made Simon so fucking angry? You didn't buy the whole 'letting you go thing', so it had to be something

Why that day?

April 25th: not an anniversary or a birthday. Not Easter or Christmas. Simon really didn't celebrate Christmas given what happened to Tommy, Beth and Joseph.

Joseph...

Fuck. Joseph.

Your throat felt fight.

What had you done?

He probably just got home from the cemetery when you called to cry about Johnny. Fuck.

Joseph's birthday.

Simon was a man that didn't do a lot of sentimental things. But every year, on Joseph's birthday he would visit his nephew's plot with a toy. You didn't know what he said or how long he stayed but he indulged you once. Telling you he just went, sat by with the toy next to the headstone for a bit before leaving.

Simon was reliving one of the happiest days of his life that was now tainted. And you complained about Johnny leaving after fucking you.

"Oh my God." You drew out shakily. Kyle could see the tears beginning to form. Horror manifesting in your eyes. "What the fuck?"

"You didn't know." He tried to soothe as if that were some sort of excuse.

"I forgot." Confessing it out loud felt like a spike going straight through your chest. "How the fuck did I forget?" Kyle didn't know what else to do. Fuck whatever awkwardness and boundaries you would set before fully accepting him back, he pulled you to his chest, allowing you to sob.

You weren't sure how long you had sat there. Kyle's arms enveloping you as you released it all. Eventually you did subside. His shirt marked with evidence of your tears and snot.

"No wonder he fucking hates me." You said it so softly, so broken, Kyle's heart broke for you.

"Simon doesn't hate you." His attempt of soothing you was admirable, but you knew it wasn't true. How could someone not hate another person after that? Forgetting the birthday of your brutally murdered nephew to call and bitch about not getting cuddled after sex. "If he did, he wouldn't have made sure you got home okay after your date. And the guy at the club-"

"He told you about that?" You shouldn't have been shocked. After all John knew.

"Only after he asked to standby in case bail was needed." He tried to joke. "The point is, there is coming back from this." Taking his thumbs, he brushed away the stray tears that hadn't made it to his shirt. "For all of us."

[deebris]

The Misteryous Visitor 4

Batfamily x batsis (platonic!)

Synopsis: Bruce finally confronts Damian, and hates how tonight's events seemed to turn out just to remind him what a terrible father he is. He felt like he didn't deserve you, and he wanted at all costs to avenge the injustice Talia committed with you two.

Warnings: Family discussion; maternal overprotection; Bruce has psychiatric problems and is mentally unstable, besides being very angry; mentions depression, post-traumatic stress and the like.

Word count: 3.7k

Note: I apologize for taking so long to post the fourth part. I was looking for inspiration to continue in other fandoms. Now I feel engaged again to continue posting

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

"She is not a secret." Damian tried to sound firm, looking Bruce in the eyes to avoid suspicion. But no matter what he did or how long he tried to maintain the lie, his father had already decided what to think about this enigmatic and strange situation.

"Hmm..." He let out a disheartened murmur, and the boy never thought something like this would happen, but he frowned with worry as he saw Bruce pour another drink. It wasn't like his father to act this way.

When Damian first met him in person at ten years old, he could have sworn Bruce and Talia were somewhat enjoying themselves that day, even with the barbs hidden in some exchanged sentences. Or maybe he was mistaken; after all, it had been so long. Perhaps he had preserved a false memory.

"How much have you drunk?" The boy asked with a disdainful voice, trying to hide that he was truly concerned.

"Why have you never talked about her? She is your sister, Damian." Bruce ignored the question but in a kind of silent acknowledgment, he rested the glass on the side table, preventing himself from getting drunk.

"Why are you acting like this? As if it's a big deal." He made a face of confusion. "Why do you care so much about this? She isn't even your problem. I won't stay here being interrogated because of her." Damian got up, taking hurried steps to the front door. He was running away, and he knew it.

"Where are you going?" Bruce stood to follow him, finally showing some kind of emotion beyond stoicism since they had been alone in the room.

"I'm going to wait for my mother outside. And when she appears, I'll come back to fetch Y/n. Then you won't have to see her anymore, ever again." Damian said, and although Bruce didn't know if in the last part his son was referring to you or Talia, he didn't dare ask for the detail.

"Why didn't you ask any of us for help when you found out she was missing? If she is someone so close to you, you could have talked to us." Bruce was speaking in that strange way again, like when he found out Jason was the Red Hood. He was hurt, and as if a whistle had snapped in his mind, Damian understood that his father was like this because of him. It wasn't Talia or how she always ended up causing problems; it was him. "You hid from me that you were still talking to your mother."

"And did I need to inform you that I talk to my mother?" The boy tried to maintain a haughty tone, repressing the urge to shout so that Bruce wouldn't see his conflicting feelings.

The truth is that it hurt to lie like this. It hurt even more to lie to you. Damian didn't show or openly say what he felt; his mother once told him that was weakness, but honestly, now he was disgusted with himself.

"You didn't need to inform me, but you made an effort to hide it!" Bruce didn't shout. His voice was grave, authoritative, and deep down had a tone of betrayal that had twice the impact of a shout. He seemed to reflect on something, and patiently Damian awaited a lamentable outburst, but just as he himself would do, Bruce was avoiding becoming emotional.

"I don't understand why, but you came to live with me and seemed to exclude her from your life because of us. She is your sister and didn't even know I am your father! You sent letters, which I'm sure you hid not just from me but from her too. And she ended up here in the middle of the night like a fugitive. Will you tell me again that all this has no reason?"

"Even if there were a reason, it wouldn't be your business." The young man replied harshly, and once again: it was a lie. It was his business. Seeing Bruce's angry scowl turn into a defeated look made one of his fingers tremble. Realizing only after saying something that what he did was wrong made a panic arise in his chest.

Bruce sat back in the armchair, giving up on the discussion once and for all. He felt so stupid for thinking he was succeeding in freeing his son from the League of Assassins' clutches, that he was doing a good job showing him he didn't need the blind loyalty Talia taught him to have. He feared that Damian would succumb to a villain's life, exactly as Ra's al Ghul wanted Bruce to be: cruel and ruthless.

Talia stirred bad reactions in him, and his sense of justice hammered in his head. How could he simply hand you back into her hands after you came here tonight? That woman was a bad influence on anyone, and it didn't matter if you were her daughter; you were a child. And wasn't that what he did with all his children? Took them from the streets and bad parents?

He wanted to vomit at the idea of allowing you to continue being raised by someone like her, among those people, but if he couldn't even change Damian, what could he do for you? Bruce couldn't force you to stay, but at the same time, he grappled with the internal conflict of corroborating that one day you would become like they. He is Batman, his duty is to protect. He should protect you too.

Bruce rubbed his eyes, feeling an intense headache and he day was already dawning again"Your mother isn't coming, Damian." He asserted, noticing that a long time had passed since they started waiting, getting up to return to his own room.

"You said we had a lot to talk about." Suddenly, the boy felt the need to prolong the conversation, if this could even be considered a conversation. It was as if they would never speak again if he allowed his father to leave.

"We don't anymore." Was cold, and that made the boy swallow hard. Bruce knew he would regret being so harsh, but at that moment, he wasn't thinking straight. The rational part of his brain was being dominated by his impulsive side.

Bruce opened his bedroom door with unusual violence. Lately, these episodes of anger were frequent, perhaps due to interrupted sleep; this damned insomnia was worse than in the last months. Alfred had already suggested he see a psychiatrist, but Bruce was sure he would leave there with a worse diagnosis than expected, so he avoided it as much as possible.

The butler once dared to mention that he might have some type of post-traumatic stress, but Bruce was stubborn and that led to an argument. He was a controlled man, but that day he shouted. The reaction was not unexpected, considering the tension from the chaos Scarecrow was causing in the city at the time, but Alfred was observant and knew the problems went beyond that.

The death of his parents was a delicate subject, and combined with the pressure of being Batman, Alfred saw Bruce become more obsessive, anxious, and even depressed over the years. Fortunately, the emergence of Dick was a break in the sad loneliness for him. And then came Jason, Tim, Damian, and things improved for a while, but the relapses still existed.

Bruce sighed as he admired his bed, wishing he could sleep again, but knowing he wouldn't be able to without taking another dose of pills, which certainly wasn't an option. Then he noticed your coat there. The garment had been left in his room, carefully placed on the arm of the room's couch.

He walked over and picked up the coat, rubbing the soft fabric with melancholy and noting how well-kept the garment was. It would probably be a good idea to return it to you; Would also be an opportunity to check if you were well accommodated.

Cautiously, he walked to the guest wing. Bruce thought he would need to check the rooms one by one to discover where Alfred had placed you, but a beam of light leaking from one of the doors indicated which one. He hesitated to turn the knob; it felt too intrusive. So, he knocked: three soft taps on the wood. He waited a few seconds, but you didn't come to open it, and he gave in to the act of opening it himself.

In slow movements, he leaned to look inside the room, without entering yet and checking if everything was okay. He saw your figure well wrapped in the covers, eyes closed and breathing in a consistent rhythm. You were sleeping, and the light he saw was the bedside lamp.

He entered, doing everything to control his steps, going to a chair to place the coat there. He felt the need to be gentle with the garment for some reason, handling the coat with such care, as if holding you in his hands.

He was envious of how pleasant your sleep seemed, wishing he could sleep like that too. He thought of turning off the lamp, but regretted it when he saw that his act interrupted your sleep. As soon as everything went dark, he heard the rustle of the covers, signaling that you had woken up. You stayed still for a while, staring at the shadow in front of you, knowing someone was there but too embarrassed to ask who it was, until the light was turned back on and you saw Mr. Wayne.

"Sorry, I think I woke you," he said softly, genuinely feeling guilty. "I brought your coat. I left it to dry better; it's still a bit wet," he continued, gesturing towards the chair.

"Thank you, Mr. Wayne," you replied groggily due to the minutes you spent sleeping. Thinking he would leave, you clasped your hands as if praying and placed them under your cheek on the pillow. A common but funny position.

"Call me just Bruce," he sat on the edge of the bed, looking at your face. He had a question stuck in his throat and thought it would be a good idea to start a conversation. "Are you okay?"

"I am. Thank you for letting me sleep at your house." you answered serenely, and he nodded in agreement. "And you?" You asked back. Bruce blinked, surprised by your question, realizing that your eyes were shining. The truth is he couldn't say how he felt, so he said what anyone would say: 

"Yes, I'm okay," he said, more focused on your face, knowing you might be uncomfortable with that but wanting to see you better. 

“Can I ask you something?” He seemed anxious, and you waited expectantly in silence, which he took as a yes. “Why did your mother separate you two like that? Why didn’t she tell you anything?”

You stared at a random spot on the mattress, feeling a pang in your chest at the memory. “She did, in a way. Mom doesn’t like you very much, Mr. Wayne. I think that’s why,” you said, looking back at him, seeing him raise his eyebrows in amusement; you corrected yourself with a gasp: “Bruce.”

“Did she speak badly of me to you?” Bruce was curious like a silly child, even though a serious scowl was etched on his face.

“Not exactly about you. Mom and Grandpa hate Batman.” By this point, you had already figured it out. It wasn’t hard to connect the dots between your family and Robin with him after a few minutes of reflection. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

Bruce let out a dry laugh, caught off guard. “Yes, it’s me,” he confirmed, and you shifted to sit more upright on the bed, excited.

“Is it true that you killed the Joker?” Your question made Bruce’s scowl turn puzzled. So that was the kind of rumor circulating.

“No, I didn’t kill him. He just... disappeared one day,” the same day Bruce thought he had lost Jason, and although deep down he wanted very much to have done it, he didn’t find it appropriate to admit that to you.

“I’m confused,” your voice became more relaxed, he thought it was due to the casual tone the conversation was taking. “If Damian is Robin now, what happened to the other one? He didn’t die, did he?” You asked the last question in a whisper, fearing it was true.

Bruce laughed at this. He had never thought about how people assumed Robin was a single person all these years. “No, he’s fine. You’d be surprised if I told you five different people have been Robin.”

Your eyes widened, and suddenly you remembered a detail: “There was a girl, wasn’t there? I remember seeing some photos in an old newspaper.”

Bruce was perplexed at how much you seemed to know about him, but in a good way. “Yes, there was a girl. She’s Batgirl now,” when he said that, your smile widened even more. It seemed like you were a secret fan, he would say, since in your own words: "Talia hates him" and Bruce knows she would hardly allow you to have such admiration.

But your smile faded, and that worried him for a moment until you spoke: “I didn’t know that man was Hugo Strange,” you looked at him with regret. “If I had known, I would have caught him for you.”

“Would you?” He asked, doubting you really could.

“Well... I would have tried,” you defended yourself, shrugging your shoulders.

“Very brave. But it’s good you didn’t do anything,” he said playfully, stopping to think for a moment. “Y/n, what did he tell you?”

He saw you wrinkle your nose in a grimace before answering. “I thought we met by chance. I was walking and saw a man smoking a cigarette on a corner. I was going to walk past, but then he asked if I needed help.”

“Which corner?”

“I don’t know, but it wasn’t far from home. I was trying to figure out the street on a map I found in the municipal library’s phone book,” you sighed, frustrated at not being able to give the information. “I ignored him, but he followed me. I got scared and started running, but he said he was a cop, so I trusted him.”

“Did he have a police car nearby?”

“He said he was undercover. But I don’t know what that means; I thought it was the same as being off duty.”

“It could mean that too.” Bruce saw your guilty expression, your lip trembling and your hands nervous.

“You don’t need to feel bad for believing him,” his larger hand enveloped both of yours like they were nothing. Were warm, and it was comforting. “I know Damian said horrible things, but he speaks in the heat of the moment.”

“It was not in the heat of the moment... He never just speaks,” your voice dropped so low it was almost inaudible. Your eyes burned, but there were no tears. Crying for your brother would be the last thing you would do again. “What was in the box?”

“What box?” He was confused by your sudden change of subject.

“Didn’t Dick give it to you?” You asked, feeling his hand move away from yours and touch his left pocket. What Dick had given him was a card and not a box. Maybe he had taken what was inside. “I guess he forgot.”

“No. He didn’t forget,” he quickly responded, snapping out of a stupor. A curiosity grew in his chest, a need to know what was in that card.

Bruce fumbled in the pocket where the card still was and pulled it out. He quickly examined the paper, turning it over to check the back for anything. For a long time, his voice was muffled, and Bruce could only hear a buzzing in his ear. It was impossible for those words to have any real meaning. His breathing became loud and shaky, as if he were in the cold, and you were startled to see his eyes blinking frantically.

“Are you okay?” You moved to approach him, seeing moisture suddenly form on his forehead. It was cold sweat.

“How is this possible?” You heard him ask himself, bringing his fingertips to his eyes, rubbing them to make sure he was really seeing. That card had left him unsettled, you realized, and hesitantly, you tried to take it from his hands to remove it from him, but his grip tightened at the feel of your fingers, so tight that it completely crumpled the paper. “Sorry. It’s nothing,” he stammered, seeing that the abrupt movement had scared you.

He got up from the bed, completely oblivious to you or anything else now. He staggered before reaching the door, very disturbed and seeming out of it. Maybe it was you who did something wrong and didn’t realize it?

He didn’t seem fit to walk, so you quickly removed the covers from your legs and went to him, supporting and guiding him to the chair where he had left his coat. He was very heavy, but he was so disoriented that he went limp. He seemed so shaken that he didn’t protest and simply sat there. You stood in front of him for a few seconds, not knowing what else to do to help him.

“Shouldn’t I call someone?” You asked.

“Dick,” he mumbled without looking at you, and that worried. It seemed intentional, as if it was too difficult to face you.

“Where do I find him?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking of something, but Damian’s voice on the other side of the door caught his attention:

“Y/n, open the door.” You stood still, recognizing your brother’s voice, until he continued: “Mom is here. She’s going to take you home,” he said as a warning, opening the door after a moment without even asking. “Come on. Why are you standing there like a statue?”

He was perplexed when you didn’t respond, and then he noticed his father sitting beside you in terror.

“Dad?” He approached, kneeling to assess the severity. He was having another episode. Lately, Bruce had only been getting worse every day and still refused to ask for help.

“What happened?” Your brother turned to you, but your face already showed that you had no idea.

Damian tried to place his hand on his shoulder, but Bruce pushed it away aggressively. Your father would never act like this just because of the argument they had before, much less give him a venomous look as he did now, but beneath it all, there was hurt. He had found out about you, somehow.

He should have felt bad about how the news seemed to have been revealed, but he was relieved not to have to lie anymore. At the same time, he regretted choosing to cater to his mother’s whims once again, deceiving his father this way. But the omission had grown so much over the years he spent in the mansion and, after so long, it didn’t matter when he told him, the damage was already done.

Bruce wasn’t in a perfect mental state. He wouldn’t react like this normally, and knowing that, the man felt pathetic in front of the two of you.

“He asked for Dick,” you said to Damian, giving him space to breathe by stepping back.

“Forget Dick,” Bruce replied firmly, surprising. In an instant, he had a fit, and as quickly as he entered this state, he left it. Now, he seemed furious. “Where is she?”

This was a ploy by Talia and Strange. They were planning this together to hit him, a way to weaken him. It could only be that. It was too much of a coincidence Strange had found you just that night; nothing made sense. When had he and Talia gotten involved again after that day that led to Damian? He couldn’t remember and wasn’t good at recalling such old things. Maybe that wasn't even true. It was as if there was a big blank page in his mind.

“Get out,” Talia’s silhouette appeared at the door where she was leaning. Like most times when referring to the children, her voice was imposing, leaving no room for contestation. “Both of you.”

“You were supposed to wait downstairs,” your brother tried to contradict her. Despite everything he did for your mother, unlike you, he was the only one who had the courage to face her.

Her frown deepened at Damian’s defiance, but her stern expression softened at your trembling voice: ‘Mom...’ She sighed and opened her arms to you, casting a challenging look at Bruce, who returned it with an even harsher one, as she wrapped your smaller body than hers in a tight hug.

She knelt to your level, her hands gently brushing your cheeks and hair, noting how frizzy and messy it was. ‘Look at you. Your hair is all disheveled.’ She ran a finger down to your lip, grimacing at the cut there.

‘I’m sorry.’ Although less anxious now that you knew she wasn’t angry, you still regretted disobeying her.

‘My sweet girl,’ she said in a soft, genuinely affectionate voice. She kissed your cheek, casting that same malicious glance at Bruce again, as if provoking him. He felt a wave of nausea seeing her use you as a pawn just to taunt him. ‘Let the adults talk,’ she ordered, standing up and regaining her authoritative tone.

‘I’m staying,’ Damian protested. Leaving his father alone with her in his vulnerable state was a mistake.

‘Go and stay with your sister, Damian,’ Bruce was as harsh as Talia, but unlike her, he was seething with anger.

The boy closed his eyes in frustration but gave in, knowing it was useless to argue. He glanced at you, who had already walked out of the room and into the hallway. Damian was about to follow, but his father’s voice stopped him again:

‘She’s not leaving the house, Damian,’ his firm tone carried the weight of undeniable authority, with bitterness seeping through. The coldness in his voice left no room for warmth; it was distant. Bruce had finally gotten the push he needed. The possibility of you being his daughter gave him a sense of entitlement, and it made Talia’s arrogant expression falter for a moment; she looked apprehensive. ‘Do you understand?’ It was a question directed at both his son and Talia.

‘Yes,’ the young man replied simply, avoiding eye contact with his mother as he left. Damian paused in front of the door before fully departing, and his mother slammed it shut in his face.

He resisted the urge to eavesdrop and turned to look for you in the hallway, but you had vanished.

‘I deserve this,’ he muttered impatiently. You were avoiding him, and Damian couldn’t help but feel irritated at how childish that was. But he was one of the villains here; he was the one who lied, insulted, and rejected you. Realizing this filled him with shame, and unlike the first time, he repeated the words, this time with a tone of regret: ‘Yes, I deserve this.’"

Tag list:

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@rafa-the-beautiful @shehrazadekey @fairuzwhat @bedeater @arianapjs

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@an-introverted-nishinoyasimp @ellie-x0xo @blkmystery

[italiangirlcoresblog]

main masterlist \\ f1 masterlist

-------------------------❦︎-------------------------

𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠...

✩ : as the 2024 season comes to an end, so does the time you have left to finally confess your feelings to lando

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭. : lando norris

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1,3k

✍︎ : this is my way of celebrating lando's win in abu dhabi. honestly, i was kinda hoping it would end like this, and seeing him smile again after the shitshow the last few races were was the best conclusion i could've imagined for this season.

i'm also planning to write one for carlos, a sort of 'other side of the coin': same scenario, same feelings involved, but a totally different atmosphere (which means heavy angst because i don't think i'll ever get over him leaving ferrari). let me know if you're interested! 🩷🧡

-------------------------❦︎-------------------------

The McLaren garage had always been a lively place, but nothing could have prepared you—or any of your teammates—for the chaos that Lando's win brought that night.

Abu Dhabi, the last race on the 2024 season calendar, the last chance for the team to become great once again, and Lando had made it. He'd pulled off an absolute masterclass on track, securing both his fourth career win and the Constructors’ Championship title for McLaren, and you were there to witness it.

The moment he crossed the finish line in first, it seemed like the whole team gasped for air after holding their breath during the entire race. Then came the cheers, the hugs, the shouts, the tears of joy and relief… and him.

Being a part of the Papaya crew, you were as excited as everyone else for the long-awaited victory, of course, but the only thing you could seem to focus on were Lando’s watery eyes, sparkling under the bright lights of the Yas Marina Circuit.

It was written on his face—you could see it in his smile: he was proud of himself. For the first time in so long, that’s what his almost unbelieving gaze screamed, what you were dying to scream too.

You made it, Lando.

The celebration that followed was a blur of champagne, noisy music, and dances, yet the loudest party was the one going on inside your heart, which seemed to follow the rhythm of Lando’s laughter.

How long can a person hide their true feelings for someone they’ve known for… well, a while? In your case, what had initially started as a harmless, silly little crush almost seven months before was now the reason your world had lit up as soon as you’d seen Lando smile again.

You couldn’t keep it in anymore now, could you? After all, what better time to confess your embarrassingly strong feelings for him than as the perfect conclusion of such an eventful night?

Taking one last deep breath and a long sip of champagne from a nearby glass, you finally gained enough courage to walk up to where Lando was standing, surrounded by a crowd of orange t-shirts as he casually chatted with Oscar.

Once you reached him, you cleared your throat to get him to acknowledge you, which he almost immediately did, turning his head toward you with the biggest, brightest smile still plastered on his face.

“Hey,” you muttered, face flushed under his piercing stare. “Hey.” He didn’t hesitate, pulling you into an ecstatic side hug that only worsened your situation, totally unaware of the effect his presence—him in general, to be honest—had on you.

“I, uh… congratulations, Lando,” you somehow managed to blurt out, your cheeks completely on fire by the time he let go of you.

“Thanks.” His smile seemed to soften, as well as the look in his eyes, which lingered on your face with something that almost resembled tenderness. That’s all you needed to keep going.

“You deserve it. I mean it.” You stopped him before he could say anything, your voice unexpectedly firm as you knew he was about to shrug your compliment off. “You worked so hard for it, and I’m not just talking about tonight. The win, the championship—you earned it all, Lando. Everyone here is proud of you, and… I’m really proud of you, too.”

You could feel your face burning as the last words left your mouth, and when you dared to look directly at him, you could’ve sworn you saw a glimpse of redness crawling up his neck and softly tinting his cheeks… but it must’ve been the garage lights, right?

“Well, thanks… again,” he chuckled, his right hand shooting up to scratch the back of his neck while his eyes finally left yours, falling to his feet instead.

As you opened your mouth once again, words fighting to go past the lump in your throat, someone from the team suddenly called out Lando’s name, his attention shifting to the engineer as he briefly waved at him.

This was it. If you let him go, you knew you wouldn’t find another moment like that for a while. No more backing down, no more second-guessing yourself—it had to be now.

“Wait, I… I need to tell you something else.” The almost panicked tone you used made his head snap back toward you, his eyes shifting from the hand you’d grabbed his arm with to yours, a spark of something you couldn’t really put your finger on flashing across them. “Yeah?” Was that… hope, in his voice?

“I just–well, I’ve been thinking about this… a lot. It’s not exactly easy for me to say, but–” You let out a nervous laugh, running a hand through your hair. “God, I’m already making a mess of this. What I’m trying to say is…”

Your gaze wandered over all the faces that surrounded you, suddenly very aware of their presence, until it landed on Oscar’s. A smile tugging at the corner of his lips, he just gave you an encouraging nod, to which the words started spilling out in a flood.

“I like you, Lando. I have for a while now. Ok, maybe more than a while, but that’s not the point. And not in a friendly kind of way, more like in a ‘I’ve-liked-you-for-over-seven-months-now-but-I-didn’t-know-how-to-tell-you’ kind of way, which sounds desperate when I say it out loud but–”

You stopped, realizing how fast you were talking, your words tumbling over each other. Lando’s expression hadn’t changed, and your stomach dropped.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you muttered, both your hands blocking out the defeated sigh you let out shortly after. “Listen, forget I said anything. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut–”

And that’s exactly what you did.

Before you could even process what was going on, Lando’s fingers were tightly wrapped around your wrists, giving them a firm yet gentle tug that drew you right into him, your lips meeting halfway.

The kiss took you completely by surprise, eyes widening in disbelief as your words got muffled by Lando’s mouth, which had crashed almost aggressively against yours, stealing your breath right away. His lips tasted yours, hungry, the lingering flavor of champagne making your head spin together with the room around you; someone whistled, someone even shouted an amused ‘Get a room!’, but you felt like you were under a glass bell, everything else shut out from the little universe only you and Lando had access to.

Lost in the burning sensation of your mouths moving together, he placed your hands on his chest and brought up his own to cup your jaw, his thumbs gently grazing your cheeks as you tangled your fingers through his brown curls to deepen the kiss even more.

When you broke away, he didn’t entirely pull back—not yet—his forehead rested lightly against yours, a lazy grin now plastered on his face. “You talk too much, you know that?” he teased, voice barely above a whisper, only for you to hear.

“I–you–why…?” A series of incoherent words fell from your mouth, the realization of what had just happened hitting you like a ton of bricks.

“Because I like you too, you muppet,” he mumbled, the blush on his cheeks now blatant. “And I would’ve told you tonight if you just didn’t beat me to it. But I guess I can’t win them all, now, can I?”

“Wait, you actually like me?” It was all too good to be true, like a dream from which you’d eventually have to wake up.

“Do I need to kiss you again to prove it?” His tone was playful, but the look in his eyes spoke louder than any words ever could. “Maybe you do,” you breathed out, your smile matching his own as he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, the rest of the world immediately fading away and leaving no room for doubt.

Because now, now you knew.

-------------------------❦︎-------------------------

©italiangirlcoresblog // do not copy, rewrite, or translate any of my work on any platforms

[puck-luck]

thinking about reader who gives a hell of a lot of hickeys during sex, especially on Quinn's inner thighs and his neck/chest...

there would be sooo many, and Quinn would be at the rink the next day getting changed for practice and all his teammates are just like "what?? the fuck???" and joking ab how Quinn has a vampire for a gf LMAO

anyways :)

warnings: lotsss of hickeys, cockwarming, quinn coming inside fem!reader (DAMN y'all tryna get PREGNANT or something??????), mentions of oral (f receiving), mentions of shower sex, implications that quinn and reader don't mind their sex life being a little public... pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader request: duhhhh see up above? wc: 1099

You’ve been feeling extra needy lately. Quinn blames it on preseason starting so soon, indulging you with a little smile on his face. He knows that in just a few days, he’s going to have his first practice back with the team, and then things will kick into full gear. He won’t have all the time in the world to lay around with you, so in his own way, Quinn is treating himself by indulging you.

And it is a treat, because if he hadn’t indulged you, he wouldn’t have the weight of you on his lap. You wouldn’t be grinding against his growing cock in languorous motions as you suck a hickey onto his jaw. His hands wouldn’t be on your hips, helping guide your motions. It feels so right that Quinn can hardly imagine leaving you for a few hours– not when things like this are happening.

“Q,” you mumble into his neck, lathering a kiss over the red mark you just made.

“Hm?” Quinn replies, opening his eyes just enough to take you in when you pull away. 

“Can I sit on your cock?” You ask, blissfully innocent. 

Quinn almost dies of a heart attack then and there. It’s written all in your voice– all you want to do is sit on his cock, have him inside of you, keep him warm. You just want to be close, and who is Quinn to deny you?

“Yeah, baby,” Quinn agrees. “Just let me get out of these shorts, yeah?”

You nod and swing your leg around so you’re tucked into his side. As Quinn lifts his hips to discard his clothes and reveal his length, you lean into his chest and press a kiss over his heart. Tilting your head up a little more, you kiss over his neckline and take some of his skin into your mouth, biting softly. You leave another mark on his chest, to match the one on his jaw.

Once his cock is free from his clothes, Quinn wraps his hand around it and pumps himself slowly. It jerks in his hand when you move your mouth to the column of his neck, petting over his stomach. He makes a soft little noise as you suck.

You pull away and admire your handiwork, tilting your head and smiling at the bruise with hooded eyes. You clamber back onto Quinn’s lap, pulling your panties to the side, and sink down. Your eyes roll back as the bulbous head of his cock sinks into you, past your entrance and settling deep in your core.

Quinn lets out a long breath as you lower yourself, eyes trained on your face through his eyelashes. You’re above him, but when you’re finally seated again, your lips are just in front of Quinn’s. He can’t help but lean in and capture them, not when they’re looking so pink and plush from marking him up.

“You look pretty,” Quinn tells you, smiling like a dope.

“Mmm,” you tease, giggling a little. “You said the same thing when I had to pick you and your brothers up last week because you got too drunk.”

You reach up and trace a finger over Quinn’s nose, biting your lip to hold in a laugh when he nips at the digit and pulls your hips forward, rocking you a little bit. He fills you to the brim, pressing into you in a satisfying way that no other man has. Quinn’s it for you.

“You’re sweet,” you concede, leaning in to kiss Quinn again. 

When you part, he breathes in deeply and leans his head back on the couch, still holding your hips tightly. 

You reassume your earlier position, kissing down his neck and marking him until his skin is littered with little bruises of varying shades of red and purple. Some are sizeable, like the one on the side of his neck where his pulse raced under your tongue and you couldn’t help but dive in for more, desperate to feel him throbbing beneath you. Other hickeys are smaller, just a pinch of a mark, like the heart you artfully sucked onto his pec. 

When you’re done, you start to rock back and forth on his cock, your hands pressing against his chest for leverage. Quinn’s eyes practically fly open, a wounded groan leaving him as he flexes his muscles involuntarily. 

“I made you mine,” you tell Quinn in a low voice. “Now, you’ve got to make me yours.”

Quinn keens at that, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. His hips stutter up into you, finding an aborted rhythm because he doesn’t want to draw himself out of your heat. He needs to feel all of you, and needs for you to feel all of him. Quinn buries his face in your neck and your hands find his hair, cradling the strands and keeping him close to you.

Quinn’s other hand finds its way to your ass for leverage, grabbing the skin and kneading it with desperation. He’ll leave his own fingerprint-shaped bruises there from the force of it, and he’ll admire his marks in the shower later, when he convinces you to let him eat you out from behind. 

He whimpers when his orgasm hits, filling you with his warmth until his cock is overstimulated and spent. You kiss him, soft and slow, swallowing the groans that leave his lips.

“You’re perfect,” Quinn praises, chest rising and falling in even breaths. He continues to stare up at you like he’s kneeling at an altar. 

You smile down and push his hair out of his face, leaning in to pepper kisses over every inch of his face. He laughs and eventually pushes you away, pulling out and standing to grab a towel to clean you up. 

You cuddle on the couch for a while after, legs thrown over Quinn’s lap and head tucked against his chest. 

Three days later, when Quinn arrives to practice, the bruises still haven’t faded completely into his skin. He grins down at the little heart made of hickeys on his chest, catching his final glimpse of your marks before he pulls his pads on and prepares for practice. 

“Jesus, fuck,” Petey says from the stall next to Quinn. “Is your girlfriend secretly a vampire?”

Quinn grins at him, impish. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” He sticks his tongue out at Petey like a bragging sibling, then turns back to his locker. He smiles to himself.

You’re getting your nails done right now, and he’ll have the marks on his back to show it tomorrow.

notes: hi quinn hughes i miss u and also what r the odds u and i could recreate this fic at a future date, be honest

[ashtxrie]

due 11:59 pm

— alternatively, enhypen hyungs as your typical high school crush!

PAIR. high school! enhypen hyungs x gn!reader (rest under cut) GENRE. fluff, high school au, bullet points WORD COUNT. 1.8k total MAKNAE LINE VER.

이희승 — lee heeseung

varsity jackets, notes in lockers, late night calls, secret pining, basketball games

secretly (not so secretly) an attention seeker

he's on the varsity basketball team, so by law you're hyping him up (disguised as hyping up the whole team) before the game and now he has to win!!! (plus he made a bet with jay about the team's winning streak)

i'd think that you two are closer than acquaintances but don't know each other well enough to be close friends

you guys probably met through mutual friends groups that kind of merged????

it was junior year when he signed up for every ap class you took just to look at your face more often.

horrible move for his gpa, amazing move for his mental well-being

... that was, until his mental well-being was compromised again because his ap calc grades were... not sexy

"help like actually i don't think my coach will let me stay on the team if i fail another quiz like that 0.05% grade decrease might be the end of my career"

you start tutoring him not because you're super confident about your calc skills, but because 1) you're better than him at least 😂and 2) it's a free excuse to hang out with him after school

you guys have your first tutoring sessions over discord vc btw like LOSERS

"can you hear me okay"

"..."

"dude you're muted"

IT WAS BAD

he's got the popular guy on the outside, an absolute loser on the inside persona

like he's lowkey a romantically awkward dude

but once he got to know you a bit more from your 1 on 1 time (still on discord.) you guys got really close!

would talk shit together right before basketball matches too

"[name] make sure to start booing when the other team shows up because unfortunately i think they're actually really good"

you're really passionate about how the other schools have horrible players (regardless of stats) and love to narrate a play-by-play with heeseung after the match is over

he finally confessed to you after a whole business year (jake and riki were about to dox their private dms by then)

you guys are like those stereotypical high school movie it couples, where it seems like two gorgeous popular people fell in love

they don't need to know he's just a hopeless romantic!!

박종성 — park jongseong

blue ink, keyboard clicks, shared laughs, handwritten notes, guitar strings

you thought he was pretty intimidating at first ngl

first day of school and he has a whole pre-established friend group, somehow found a table to sit at, has an effortless air going for him

you were paired up with him for a group project in history and

god help this man is SO straightforward and to the point

"ok so i'll do this part and you can do those parts. let me know if you have questions."

insert working in SILENCE for the next hour and a half

at least you two got your work done though!

but then, as an icebreaker in the last ten minutes of class you asked:

"oh... so, uh, do you ever wonder how liquid soap was invented?"

girl wtf!

your internal thought processing was like ??? damn who said that??? before you realized it was YOU

fortunately for you, jay was not completely weirded out!

he even looked a bit interested!

VERY interested, actually!

and that's how he began google searching like crazy, pulling up a million wikipedia articles and scouring the internet to answer your question

because how did you know he was curious about that too!

he really went from 0 to 100 and wdym you thought this man was cold and stoic

he became a d1 yapper for a solid ten minutes, up until the second the bell rang

he was even subconsciously walking with you to your lunch spot, STILL talking about william sheppard and that day in 1865

when he stops and finally realizes where he is, he actually blinks a bit before asking if you had joined any lunchtime clubs

and you were like oh yeah!! i'm in guitar club

he looked at you with the biggest heart eyes at that tbh

HE WAS IN LOVE

wdym your interests were perfectly aligned???? was he in a soulmates au

fast forward three months, and he seriously thinks he's found The One

confesses to you after playing guitar!! and he wrote a handwritten letter too with a cheeky reference to that one liquid soap conversation that started it all

you never feel like you're being "too weird" when you're with him and you two can always be your candid goofy selves with each other :))

심재윤 — sim jaeyun

muji pens, fond eye rolls, sharing books, lunch dates, lattes, TI-84s

you already saw this one coming

physics lover jake, but you've deemed physics your number one opp

HOW can this man go "i love this subject so much omg" after you've just gotten your third 72% in a row?!

it's not like you weren't smart (the class average was a 55)

and it's not like you hated the subject itself

okay maybe you did

but you just thought there were so many other alternatives other than physics to fawn over as a favorite subject. like. ANY other subject

one day, you're seated next to jake in calc and he just turns to you and starts talking out of NOWHERE

he’s like wow isn’t this so interesting? calc is like a hobby of mine!!

and you’re like boy stfu??? i’m literally struggling how is this your pastime 

poor guy just wanted to make small talk and impress you with stuff he thought you were interested in… which is academics 

fast forward to that afternoon in history though, and tests are passed back

you're a certified humanities girl, so you got an 100!!! academic weapon

jake, however..... is kind of an academic shield in this case

on the midterm, he had written that the victorian era ended in 1592, and filled in everything else he didn't know with "mansa musa" because it was the only thing he retained from ap world

maybe you genuinely felt really bad for hating on him when he had struggles of his own, or maybe you felt really nice that day, or maybe you were secretly hoping to get to know him more....

either way, you don't know what came over you when you tapped on his shoulder

you missed how his eyes widened a bit when he turned around, and how he looked genuinely shocked that you were talking to him in an initiated conversation! maybe his rizz was working! (maybe it was)

"there's a method that i use to memorize terms that i could teach you, if you want"

IF HE WANTS??? he would've literally jumped with joy if the paper in front of him wasn't such a nuclear bomb to his gradebook

so that's how you suddenly started spending all your lunches sitting with jake at an empty table together

he tutors you back for physics and math too, so it's fair

and DAMN it works

suddenly you two are all-rounder academic weapons???? he has your back for STEM, you have his back for humanities

like that's literally a power couple right there.

only one problem.

you aren't a couple!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

you confess to him after one of your study sessions, by plotting a heart on the desmos graphing calculator using the equations that he taught you

it was super cute!!

he was literally the proudest and happiest man alive he teared up a bit (he would never admit it though)

and NOW you guys are the campus power couple

“babe look at this!” and he's waving at you with his 100 on the history final

he actually started jumping and hugging you (embarrassingly) when you found out you got a 94% average in physics at the end of the semester, giving you an A in the class

you were so shocked when you opened your report card that you didn't even register it until you heard jake go "YOOO OH MY GOD BABE THAT'S INSANE I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT YESSS I'M SO PROUD OF YOU"

well maybe thanks to jake the subject isn't so bad now!

박성훈 — park sunghoon

big school, comfortable silence, convenience stores, headphones, lingering gazes

the "everything kinda sucks here, except you" type of plot

sunghoon tries to stay out of the spotlight, keeping to himself with his head down, hood up, and headphones on

you're not really sure when you met him first actually, but you're both the same type of people where you're just going through the motions

you intrigued him though-- maybe it was the slightly melancholic look in your eyes? or maybe it was the way you purse your lips when you find a particularly hard question on the worksheets in class

either way, he finds himself wanting to get to know you more

funnily enough, he sees you at the convenience store after school as he walks home, and his feet start walking him in your direction

you see him first, and give him a smile and a little wave-- and sunghoon waves back without even thinking about it

that was the entire interaction that day, but sunghoon keeps replaying that part when you smiled and waved at him

why can't he stop thinking about it?

some things definitely changed too-- you start saying hi to him in the hallways at school, you turn to sunghoon to ask questions in class, and you seem to brighten up whenever you see him

you guys start to have conversations, starting with simple small talk, then moving to longer, more random dialogue where you both just say whatever comes to mind

the two of you become so close that you decide to walk to and from school together, since you found out that you only live a couple blocks away

sunghoon likes to place his headphones over your ears to show you new songs every morning, and you like to share earbuds in the afternoon to walk home together

he also starts to slip little notes about his day in your backpack before you go your separate ways in the neighborhood, signing off with a little p.s. to meet him at the park before sunset

it takes him SO long to muster up the courage to confess to you because he keeps thinking you'd say no

but when he finally does, all his fears melt away because you looked at him in such a soft way

he's actually reminded of why he fell for you in the first place

because with you, there’s no judgment from the outside world in the little bubble that you’ve created with him

it's just the two of you against the world <3

TAGLIST : @star-sim @boyfiejay @jlheon @jwsdoll @dimplewonie @suneng @en-gelic

[lani-heart]

ATEEZ -> HOW'D THEY GIVE ORAL?

|| lani-heart's ultimate masterlist || MDNI ||

genre(s) -> reaction, smut, anonymous request <3 paring(s) -> ( separately ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> pure smut... like all of it is smut. MDNI

-> KIM HONGJOONG 

Out of all of the members, Hongjoong is who I’d consider the biggest tease and menace. He’d mock you and overstimulate you, probably thinking of this as punishment if you act out. If you couldn’t handle cumming for the fifth time alone with him just eating you out he’d pout and also fake sympathize with you. He’d talk you through it and keep on making you cum even after your squirt. You already made a mess anyway so why should he stop? He isn’t the type to get off of your pleasure to worship you but does it more for entertainment to see you whine and squirm because of him. A huge sadist getting off on how you can’t take it anymore. Maybe even with a slight dumbification kink in there where you’d cum so many times that you can’t even think straight. Would doubt he’d even stop if you passed out ( he’d be worried and make sure you’re okay before going back at it ) and still tease you when you wake up. 

“I can’t believe how big of a mess you’ve made… who’s gonna clean it up?” he would say and go back to eating you out saying he was simply cleaning the mess and you were making the mess bigger.  “How is that my fault?” 

-> PARK SEONGHWA 

Arguably the best at oral. Also, the second biggest pussy whipped member here. I think he is one of the members who’d get off of your pleasure and want to hear you cum over and over again. He could skip the whole part of his pleasure and purely be satisfied with making you cum on his tongue alone. Not much of a talker like Hongjoong but instead is pussy whipped where nothing can pull him away from you. Stuck like this for hours or an eternity if he could. Even if you move to close your thighs while he’s still overstimulating you, he’d only chuckle. He wasn’t close to finishing… this was where he’d stay because this wasn’t just about pleasuring you but also his own pleasure. It was as if he was starving or thirsty and hadn't had water for days. 

“Let me have one more, just one more time” he’d beg after you tried to pull him away too overestimated to continue further. Though one more… turned into two then three, etc.  “Promise this is the last one” 

-> JUNG YUNHO  

I don’t see Yunho as the type who’d do oral often and would probably only do it as foreplay. Using his fingers more than anything and… we know why. When he would it would be a mix of foreplay and fingering. He isn’t a menace or as mean as other members but if you were to act out I see him more like being a jerk where he’d make you beg for him to pleasure you. He’d use oral as a way to tease you before finally giving in to what you want as well as adding fingers into the hither movement to try to make you cum or even squirt. I don’t see him doing it often for a long time but would do it briefly as foreplay. 

“Why should I?” he’d tease to get you to beg before you were a whiny mess and laugh and smirk at your expression before kissing your clit.  “Okay okay… we’ll do what you want for now”

-> KANG YEOSANG 

This man is scheming… I can see him one day scrolling on Tiktok and finding that one trend of feeding your partner pineapple the whole day. He’d go to the store and buy a bunch of pre-cut pineapple and throughout the day when you’re busy, he’d feed you one until you either notice or you’ve finished the pineapple he bought. Once you finish it he’d have to try to get you into the mood where he’d decide today was an experiment so he’d worship you and tell you later. Though… if it did change something he’d become addicted. Probably would be stuck there for a while even after you come until it's too much after each time he makes you cum. He’d just praise you and how you taste that he wouldn't be able to stop. He’d probably also decide not to tell you about what he did anymore and implement pineapple in your permanent diet. 

“You taste so good… just enjoy it” he’d say completely pussy drunk moaning into you making the pleasure even more unbearable while he wouldn’t even stop to breathe.  “I don’t think I can get enough of you”

-> CHOI SAN 

The manhandler… he would ask you to also sit on his face. He’s been working out a lot, after all, he could take it. If you were nervous about it he’d just pick you up from your thighs and lay down not letting you go. He wouldn’t even mind, he wants you to put your entire weight. However, I could see him as more of a giver than a receiver even if you offered to help him off when you're on top of him he’d deny it and whine and groan if you moved. Only tightening his grip on your thighs that you’d get bruises. I don’t think it helps that this whole era he’s been a cowboy, he probably also teased you that if you have the cowboy’s hat you’ll need to be able to ride him in return. He could do it for hours until he has no more self-restraint and you have enough pretty red hickies and even the yellow bruises that’ll turn purple tomorrow. 

“I wanna show you why I’ve been to the gym” he’d say only encouraging you to sit on him and when you did his tongue would explore everywhere it could... barely even taking breaths in between.  “Don’t be shy, princess” 

-> SONG MINGI 

I also don’t see him as someone to do oral often, probably more of a greedy lover for his own pleasure though I think he would like your reactions. Teasing you with pussy slaps in between him sucking your clit and edging you until you cry literal tears. He’d probably do it for his own entertainment rather than your own pleasure and would just tease you to later give you a bigger orgasm. He would also probably leave marks and would only stop once you’ve squirted. If you do come after all the edging he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself and want to feel himself around you. Everything for him is just to see how you squirm and cum because of him. 

“You were about to cum? I’m sorry love” he’d say teasing you and you would be able to hear his disingenuous tone. He’d go back to teasing making you cry.  “Why are you crying? Do you want me to stop?” 

-> JUNG WOOYOUNG 

Pussy Drunk. Gets off on your pleasure and will cum in his pants because of it. After a long day of choreo just to relax and get off he’ll trap you on the couch and piss your clit through your clothes until you finally agree and get rid of your sleeping bottoms. He’d probably make you keep your panties on. Tasting you through your underwear teasing and restraining himself until he couldn’t handle it and needed to taste you from the source. Would lose track of time that he’d probably get off by humping the couch or a pillow while hearing your moans and eating you out. I think he probably wouldn’t hear you if you started to whine out that it was too much and be so lost in your pleasure that you’d have to pull him away. 

“Mmhmm… please I need one more” he’d beg and cry just to continue tasting you and of course how could you ever deny a tired and pouty Woo.  “I just wanna feel and taste you some more”

-> CHOI JONGHO 

He’d definitely use oral against you. Maybe the meanest member when it comes to punishment. He would tie you up, give you what you want until you beg to cum when he’ll stop and leave you in the room for in theory a few seconds but for you feels like forever wanting to cum so badly and wanting him to come back until you finally apologize for being a brat, begging for him to come back. He would tease you until you finally beg him to finish you off, he’d really only use oral during punishments or special occasions or… when he felt that you learned your lesson and should be rewarded. 

“You’re sorry, right? I think we should reward good behavior” he’d tease seeing your pouty and tear-stained face before aiming to make you come. But when you do… it was really intense and– “You can give me a few more right? To make it up to me?”

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

[ceesimz]

feels like we only go backwards

is this all you'll ever be? (angst -> comfort/fluff)

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, but I am done with this.” 

All of your adult life, you thought that the six month mark argument stage was a myth. Maybe that’s because you hadn’t ever made it to that milestone before, dating wasn’t your thing.

“And everytime you say that, I don’t understand what you mean!” 

Apparently it was true.

“No, you do not get to pull that card. You know exactly what I mean. I come home after working all day, exhausted, just to hear you whine and complain about chores and other bullshit. You work from home, I travel all over Spain and Europe, so I'm sorry if I forget my chores once in a while!” 

You think it's unfair that the person you are truly, genuinely, wholeheartedly in love with is the one you can't stop arguing against. Relationships aren't meant to be like that, even you can recognise and acknowledge that after years and years of failed attempts at them.

“What, just because you're famous you think you're more important than me? That your job is more exhausting? I rarely work from home, the only time I do is when you're actually in the city so that I can try and see you! How fucking selfish are you? My job is important, in fact I make an actual difference to people's lives whereas you kick a ball around the pitch and expect everyone to worship you for it!” 

The first one began when you were running late picking Alexia up after she had a meeting, her car was in the garage and the weather was especially awful that day. Maybe the torrential downpour should have been a sign of things to come, things only got worse from then onwards.

“My job IS important! It is my life, if you can't understand that part of me then I don't know why you're still here!” 

Alexia feels like the walls are closing in on her where she lays on her couch, thinks her life might end after a particularly bad argument, the worst of them all so far. For weeks, the tension had been simmering slowly, but now it had boiled over completely. She wasn’t sure she would get you back.

“Wow. Okay. You know, if you never loved me, liked me, even. I wish you would have told me to leave sooner.” 

Both of you were to blame in all this, you two knew that. For some reason, you were just too stubborn to acknowledge that fact and do anything about it. So you both sat in different apartments in the same city, lost and fatalistically melancholic about a situation that could be solved with some simple communication. One conversation could save you from this, but were either of you brave enough to take that first step?

“Dios mío, now you are being even more ridiculous. How can you say that after all I have done for you?” 

You don’t think you’ve ever hated yourself more than you did, lying in bed and feeling sorry for yourself. Your neighbours were probably on the other side of the wall, laughing at the pity party happening in the next apartment over. From this moment on, you could never take the elevator again, you think the small talk that would occur might be your last straw.

“All you have done? Enlighten me on what you think love is, Alexia, because you’re making it out to be something transactional, and if that’s the case then this relationship might be the worst fucking ‘investment’ of my life. Don’t even act like you’re some kind of saint either, I have spent the last month feeling more alone than loved.” 

That final statement from you was when the penny dropped for Alexia. It was a sentence that would haunt her forever. There wasn’t even a thing she could do about it either; you slipped your shoes on, and walked out after it. 

You didn’t mean to leave at that precise moment, you knew that was the worst thing to do in an argument. In all honesty, it wasn’t even to make a point to Alexia. What you admitted in that moment felt way too vulnerable, you inwardly cringed when the words fell out. Your only choice then, it felt like, to save the last ounce of your dignity was to flee so that you didn’t give your heart the chance to feel bad for saying that to the woman you loved.

Being annoyed and angry didn’t come naturally to you, being sympathetic did. You knew you would have instantly felt a hundred times more guilty if you had stayed to see her reaction. And thankfully, for some time, you didn’t feel regret or remorse, you were hot with rage. Alexia didn’t try to stop you leaving, nor did she follow you. 

But then, in the quiet safe haven of your apartment, those feelings began to set in. Not even the dark of your bedroom or the comfort of your duvet could fend them off, sleep decided to go against you that night and opt out of helping you. That left you with no choice but to dwell on the evening’s events, the week’s dramas, and the month’s emotional turmoil. 

It had been one of the hardest months of your life, you just wanted it to be over. Instead, the only thing that seemed to have ended was your relationship.

And on the other side of the city, a two-time Ballon d’Or winner had reduced herself to tears after the realisation that all she had come to be in football had meant she had totally disregarded who she was at home and, more importantly, who she came home to. 

In football, when you make a mistake, there are twenty-plus people that will put you in your place and tell you exactly where you went wrong. In life, there is no such thing. There is no system, only consequence. Age was irrelevant when it came to learning things. Here, she was humbled in a way she had never been before, no nutmeg or own goal could match this. She knew, the moment it sunk in, that she needed it. 

She also needed you; she needed your love, your joy, your touch, if she ever hoped to feel whole again. The pain of the night’s occurrence was almost as horrible as the longing she felt when she thought back on the first months of knowing you. All was right in the world then – she was playing great football, and she had an incredible partner to come home to. Out of all the things she missed, all the obvious things, one thing that once seemed incredibly minor soon stepped out of the shadows and stabbed her right in the chest.

Knowing that, after the day she’d had no matter if it was good or bad, she would still get to come home to you was an unexplainable feeling. It was a phenomenon she wasn’t sure she could ever put into words. Something about being exhausted or full of energy, grumpy and miserable or content and calm, and still having someone that loved her was… priceless. If she lost that, you, forever, she was sure her heart would beat a little slower, have less will to live and function. A life without love like yours simply wasn’t worth it. 

As you both lay down in separate flats, only a car ride between you, the anxieties and the doubts were the same. Your soul was nearly a reflection of hers; the same morals, the same worries, the same guilt. Only the reasons for the last two were different. You were both determined characters, at work and in life in general. Alexia decided to put hers to good use.

Alexia: I’m coming over.

Initially, that text you received only made you feel a thousand times worse. The moment your phone vibrated with the notification, you scrambled to pick it up, hoping it was anything but that text. Maybe if you were in a better state of mind, you wouldn’t have spiralled at the sight of it. Maybe if you didn’t think your relationship was already dead and done with, it wouldn’t have been the final nail in the coffin. 

Staying in bed and feeling sorry for yourself was no longer cutting it, you had to get up and move. So, move you did. You never stopped pacing for a second. You waited for her in the lounge, a room that may as well have been a shrine to the woman about to serve you the worst news of your life. Framed photos littered the walls and any surface in sight – you were always an old soul, something Alexia adored about you. The way you demanded to have photos of every single person you loved on display reminded her of her mother, it was a sentiment that never failed to make her smile. 

But it wasn’t just the photos, it was the signs of life. The most agonising reminders of what simplicities you would lose; one of her jackets hung on the wall by the door, the dishes piled up in the sink from when you had shared breakfast just that morning, the book of yours she had been borrowing to read when she came over. They all served as a horrifying mockery of what you were about to let slip from your grasp. 

You had her, and soon you wouldn’t. 

The pacing stopped then, the sudden, strange grief strong enough to break through the autopilot movement of your legs and allow the world to come falling down on you. Whoever said that heartbreak didn’t cause a physical reaction clearly hadn’t lost a person like Alexia. She was one-in-eight-billion. No amount of searching would lead you to anyone that came remotely close to the beauty of her heart, her mind, and her soul.

“Cariño, let me in, please!” The pounding at your door brought you out of whatever pit of dread you had fallen into, only for you to fall right back into it the moment you came to. “Please. I need to talk to you, amor.”

“-if you can't understand that part of me then I don't know why you're still here!” 

Then why is she here?

The sound of the lock sliding and the door opening sent a surge of relief through Alexia, though it left the second she saw your face. Eyes full of tears and cheeks reddened by past drops that had fallen, even hours after the earlier altercation. The sun had set long ago, and it had taken any remaining hints of hope with it.

“Why are you here?” You said, knowing that the confidence you tried to put on crumbled with the crack of emotion in your voice.

“Let me in. Please, amor, I can’t… I can’t.” Sounded like she didn’t have much faith in her facade either, judging by the desperation in the way she spoke. There was also a drop of disdain too that you knew was aimed entirely at herself, you’d heard it before, and even after the way the day had gone, or rather the month, it still hurt to hear your favourite person in the world to talk like that.

If she was surprised at how you stood to the side to let her in, she didn’t show it. 

“Alexia…” You started, but trailed off fairly quick. You didn’t know what to say.

“No, don’t call me that. Please, not you.” She shook her head with the same amount of desperation as what was in her tone. 

You closed the door and slowly padded your way over to where she stood in the centre of the lounge. As you came to stand in front of her, you noticed the gloss of her eyes that glistened in the moonlight streaming through the window. The way you reached out and delicately put a hand on her arm was all instinct.

“What's wrong?” You asked quietly, but that only seemed to cause more unrest.

“Qué? What's wrong?! The fact that we love each other and we cannot stop arguing! Why are we against each other when we are supposed to be on the same team? I-it’s absurd, amor, I-”

“Ale, Ale, calm down.” Your other hand came up to grab her arm, holding tightly in an effort to grasp her attention. 

She didn't deserve your time. She had neglected you for the past month, yet here you were, taking her heart and caring for it with a tenderness that would make the world stop.

“I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t treat you like this anymore.”

Here it comes.

Your hands fell away when she said that, and the roles reversed. You slipped into a state of panic, though you tried to hide it, whilst Alexia’s composure came back to her.

“From now on, no more arguing. No more arguing, no more shouting, no more of it. It is not good for us, you don’t deserve it.” She had to get that out first, then take a deep breath, before she could move on to what really mattered to her. “I love you. These arguments hurt the both of us, but I cannot stand making you cry or making you feel alone. Dios, I will never make you feel like that again even if it kills me.”

Her words weren’t registering in your mind, you were nearly in a state of shock. Only minutes before she had showed up, you were in a near catatonic state at the anticipation of the death of your relationship. That wasn’t the case here.

“What?” You murmured, crossing your arms over your chest in a way that broke Alexia’s heart once more, because it was like you did it to defend yourself. 

She tried her best to soften her demeanour, from her body language to her eyes, and she cautiously stepped over. Her hands landed gently on your cheeks, brushing away the tears there, and she gazed at you with a softness you weren’t expecting to ever see again.

“I am sorry for how I have behaved towards you and I will say sorry for the rest of my life. I can’t lose you, amor, I would rather lose everything else in my life if it meant I could have you. I didn’t recognise that in the past and I am so sorry it took me this long to realise it. You don’t deserve my behaviour and I don’t deserve you.”

She let out a shaky breath, leaning down to rest her forehead against yours as she swallowed the lump in her throat and willed herself to get through her next words.

“What I said earlier, I do not mean it and I never could. I have never loved someone like I love you, and even though that scares me a tiny bit, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I want you around, and I want you to want me around too. There are no excuses for the way I have neglected you and treated you, and I will be better. I will be better, I promise.”

“I…” You choked back your emotions and prepared yourself for her reaction to your next words. “I thought you were coming here to break up with me.”

Even though she was the one touching you, you sensed her whole body stiffen at that. You opened your eyes, not having even realised they were closed in the first place, and saw her eyes tightly shut and the familiar frown to her face. Though, there was a tremble to her chin that told you she was fighting back her sobs. 

“No.” Was all she muttered as she shook her head gently against yours. She quickly moved away then, and the loss of her was terrifying for a moment, before you realised she had just turned around to hide her tears for a moment when she wiped her face on the inside of her shirt, turning back afterward. Her hands cradled your face in the same way she did a moment ago. “No. I’m not breaking up with you and I don’t want to break up with you, ever. For as long as you let me, I will love you. I even-”

Her eyes went comically wide then, and if the moment wasn’t so serious, you probably would have laughed.

“What?” You wondered, watching in amusement as she groaned and threw her head back. 

“I bought two bouquets of flowers for you and I left them both in my car.” 

Even though you felt a little bad, you laughed at her admission. You laughed, genuinely and freely, and it felt different to any of the laughs you’d let out in the past few weeks. When Alexia moved past her frustration, she couldn’t help but join in with you. And before you knew it, your shared laughter bounced off of the walls despite the tears still present on either of your faces. The moment was funny, in fact the whole situation of both the flowers and the arguments that had been had were ridiculous.

Most of the time, you couldn’t even pick out why the argument started. Not to mention most fights were just rehashing the same points and excuses over and over. So yeah, it was ridiculous.

Alexia, however, wasn’t expecting you to wrap your arms around her in a hug she had missed for… she didn’t even know. Every act of intimacy of the last month had felt forced, with an ounce of apprehension in them. This hug, it was different. It was sincere and filled with the love that had been lacking recently. To be honest, it took her breath away.

“You’re not breaking up with me.” You mumbled into her neck where you had buried your face, a bashful smile on your face. 

“I’m not breaking up with you. If you’ll forgive me, if you’ll have me still, I’m not breaking up with you.” 

That sentence especially caught your attention. You leaned back in her arms, keeping your own tight around her, and looked up at her in confusion.

“Ale, if you forgive me. I said some horrible things too, it wasn’t only you. I was just as bad.” The blonde smiled sadly down at you and shook her head softly before moving forward to place a gentle, reassuring kiss to your temple.

“We both said some mean things. I want to forget it for now.” She whispered. You were more than happy to entertain her in that.

“Me too. I love you, Ale. So much.”

No relationship was perfect, that you knew now. But even through the arguments, the disagreements, the particularly bad fights, every moment outside of those occurrences were worth it, and more.

—

wrote this on a whim, and its... actually short? 😧 overall im not too sure about it, it's been a while since i posted something like this but hope you liked it 🙃🧡

[makeupbychio]

THE suit // logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader

Summary: Now that you are officially part of the x-men team you need a suit. After the help from Hank and Charles to make the suit you kept the final result as a secret to Logan until he saw you in your first mission in THE suit. More than one time you needed more than one suit, not just because Logan will rip off a lot of them, but for other reasons. 

Warnings: Jealous Logan and being a little bit of a brat, Hank and Charles cameo, insecurity towards your body and powers, use of your powers (ecokinesis), Logan being the best protective and comforting boyfriend, mentions of smut, suggestive language, mentions of pregnancy.

Words: 1.9k 

A/N: So thanks for the anon for the request!! Once again, a reminder that english is not my first language. I put angst, fluff and mentions of smut so I hope you like this. Also, reminder that this is a safe place for all body sizes so that's why I don’t mention specifics measurements for the suit. ALSO, you can read this with my previous Logan fic TRAINING SEASON, this is them days after you are officially an x-men. Enjoy, love y’all!! <3. 

italics = past. 

— — —

“Hold on, wait. Hank is going to do your suit?” Logan stopped the conversation. You two at the cafeteria grabbing a late night snack. You took the pause to give a bite to your apple. 

“What about it? The Professor told me Hank did all of them” you answered him without any worry in your mind and didn't  understand why he had that frowning look on his face.

”I think Storm should be in charge since your powers are related to nature too”. Logan suggested, trying not to be an asshole. You understand where this was going when he sighed. 

“But Lo, the Professor designed the suits, Hank is just going to sew it and for that he needs to take the correct measurements” you refreshed Logan’s mind, like if it wasn’t obvious that a suit was not going to sew it itself. 

So after that Logan just stopped insisting about it. He trusted Hank of course but something was itching his brain. If he knew you already had an appointment with Hank last week to take the first measurement and the Professor explaining to you how he designed it for you and your powers. 

“So, Y/N. If you didn’t know, Hank came up with the idea to make the suits bulletproof and for your powers we needed to incorporate more resistance to heat changes in case your whole body is on fire or ice. So we needed to play with all of the opposite and different scenarios of the element you were going to manipulate or become, please try it on”. Charles explained to you the work behind your suit. You just nodded, but the Professor can read your mind and know your excitement when you ran to change your clothes and came back with the suit on.

“So you can basically turn into stone one moment and then disappear like air, so we create something that can resist that range of changes, and also of course something to be comfortable for you”. Hank added, proud of the technology he put in the suit while you looked at yourself in the mirror. “You can try it and test what I’m talking about”. 

So you did it, always careful not to hurt them. They were so happy with the final results and you couldn’t thank them enough and can’t wait any longer to wear it. 

“See you next week, Y/N”. The Professor reminded you about the final meeting to correct some details. 

So after that late snack, you both went to bed and before your appointment with Hank, Logan just stopped by his office and greeted him with a casual smile. 

“Logan, how can I help you? Y/N is not here” Hank thought he was there to be with you once you tried on your suit. 

“Don’t worry, she’s still in bed sleeping in our room” Logan gave a cocky smile and highlighted the ‘our’. “Actually I’m here to help YOU. In case you needed help with her suit, just to let you know that I made you a list of her measurements” Logan handed him a piece of paper with the different sizes of the clothes you have. He really thought that was going to work. “You’re welcome, so you don’t have to take the measurements yourself” He smiles proud of himself. 

Hank laughed and didn’t want to ruin Logan’s intention. He just thanked him, if Logan knew the suit was ready in the lab for you to try it and make the last changes. 

“Oh! I almost forgot” Logan turned to Hank before leaving his office. “She’s the smartest person I know, don’t get offended so I’m pretty sure she’s going to give you some ideas for the suit” he made a pause imagining you giving instructions to Hank. “And her favorite color is purple” Logan finally leaves the room without letting Hank answer. Heading himself to the dining room proud of his work. 

Hours later, you went directly to the lab where Hank and the Professor told you to meet. “Okay Y/N so tell us how you feel it, if you want to change something” Hank looked at you looking in the mirror. 

It was really comfortable even when it was really tight to your body. You felt so much confidence, you saw the x mark on it, that wasn’t on the suit the last meeting you had. Also it made justice to your figure and your beautiful curves. 

“Thanks again, it fits perfectly. But Hank I just wanted to ask you if it’s possible if you could add something to the suit…” Hank is paying attention to you. “If there could be like- I don’t know- something for you guys to know which element I’m manipulating or about to, so you don’t get yourself hurt out there during a mission” you asked him nervously because they are the experts.

”Mmmhh, it’s a really good idea but the enemy can use that information too against us to advance an attack” Hank really liked the idea but they had a surprise for you. 

“So dear, we also wanted for you to try this suit too” the Professor went to reach the suit he was talking about. Hiding it inside a box that was wrapped like a gift. 

“Guys, what is this?” you were in total awe when you opened the box. They know how easily you get emotional. Tears are already forming in your eyes. 

“We wanted for you to have your own suit, something that will be just for YOU…” Hank started explaining. “All of us have something that characterizes ourselves and our powers, so someone told us your favorite color is purple and it contrasts perfectly the green that represents your powers…” Hanks kept talking because you went speechless. “I know it sounds cliché to add green for your ecokinesis, if you don’t like it we can change it” he suggested.

You just ran to hug them because it was perfect. “So for your ideas you gave us, we design this…” the Professor handed you another box, but this time smaller. You opened it so fast. “We created these gloves for the changes of elements. So you can use it in the field or on a daily basis” you tried on them immediately and it blew your mind the technology it has, how it’s connected to you to change the colors related to the element, it sparkles so that makes them AMAZING.

“The gloves are more for the missions, because with the suit you hold your powers in case you are not conscious. Also the gloves help you to give your attack a precise target. We’ll learn more about both items while training” Hank explained. 

So when you first wore the x-men suit, you were so nervous about the mission, about everything so you changed clothes in your room. Thinking if this was a good idea. Literally everyone was waiting for you to step into the plane. 

“I’m going” Storm was about to go and search for you when you stepped into the ship. “There you are! K’ let’s go” Storm yelled at Scott to go.

Logan almost fainted, his claws making an appearance without previous warning. He quickly put them back, he was so excited he couldn’t resist to stay close to you. His flirting helped you to stop your nerves. “Sugar, you look amazing…” he gave you a kiss on your check, sitting next to you on the ship. He came closer to your face, whispering “I hope they made like a hundred suits because as soon as we're back in the mansion I’m going to rip it off. God, I can’t wait” You tried to hide the redness of your face, you warned him to behave. 

“Logan, I’m pretty sure the Professor can read your mind, I don’t want to be kicked out of the missions. Or give us separated missions. Do you want me to be paired with Scott instead?” you asked him with a teasing smile. 

“I’m sorry, love. But did you see yourself in the mirror before coming?” Logan really insisted but not too much. “Don’t worry, you’re going to kick asses today and I’ll protect you till the end of times” 

Like I said before, Logan after that would take any opportunity to join you for fittings. Especially if something is different. Logan would be there next to you when you are not comfortable with your body. If you are not comfortable with your powers every time you discover something new about them. After years, he will always be there for you, sitting in front of you looking at you with awe and comforting you even when you’re were not feeling it. 

The only time you skipped a mission was when your suit was not crossing your figure. You tried on your x-men suit and your own suit they made you and it was not stretching enough. The team was on a rush so they let you stay at the mansion. 

Logan asked you when they were back about what happened and you just told him you were feeling under the weather. The Professor already knew the real reason. You distracted Logan enough for you to go to Hank's office. 

“Hi, Hank. Can I ask you something?” you stepped into the room worried. Hank welcomed you worried about your absence in the last mission. “I had a problem with the suit, actually both suits. Is it possible for the fabric to be even more stretchable?” you asked him. 

Next day, after telling Logan the truth about you expecting and how suddenly a big bump you had appeared. That time he almost fainted too. So both of you were in the lab, the Professor and Hank giving you the congratulations when Hank was taking notes of your new measurements for your suits.

“Be careful there, big boy” Logan growled at Hank when he put the measuring tape around your belly. Logan was so protective over you and now your baby. You laughed at him telling not to worry, Logan looking at you with charming eyes while you rub your belly looking at yourself in the mirror. So this was really happening, starting a family.

Hank explained to you your new suits, which were going to be more comfortable for you considering the bump was going to grow even more. But the only thing Logan could think about is to protect you even more out there in the field. 

“Lo, look at me. I can do this” you hold his face when back in the room he told you to reject some missions that were too dangerous just to be cautious. He was scared that if you got injured really bad in your state. He was not going to stop you from going to the missions, because he knows you are one of the strongest and with a single snap you can beat your enemy but he can’t help himself from worrying. “And if I’m not feeling good or at my best to fight I’ll stay here”. you kissed him to calm him down. 

“I know, mama. You are the baddest out there. They could never beat you even if they tried” Logan kissed you back and kneeled to kiss your belly. “I wonder which powers our baby is going to inherit”. Next time Logan went to Hank’s office was to ask for a tiny x-men suit to surprise you. Hank couldn’t say no to Logan because he found a really cute gesture from him even when he had a lot of work left to do. 

[callmecoke]

Thinking of the first time the 141 discover you on a website for Sugar Babies...p2

CW: mention of sex work (being a sugar baby), SFW much like the last one, but it does deal with adult topics so proceed with caution!

Thinking about the time your friends introduced you to this website, partially as a joke. A place where ‘Sugar babies’ can do live videos for rich guys and galls so they can rack in tons of money just by talking. Honestly, you didn’t even consider it initially. It was all just a fun litle joke.

But, eventually, life caught up to you. Out of a job with bills to pay and school to go to, you were left scrambling to get ahead. Of course, friends were more than happy to lend you some cash for your hard times, but that wasn’t even a temporary solution to your problem. You needed something that could keep you afloat long enough to find a job. Ergo, the website. It was the last idea on your mind and honestly, as you were opening up your laptop you were starting to regret it. Felt kinda embarrassing to put yourself out there and admit you needed money from rich older guys to get by. But your dignity would have to wait for later; you had bills to pay and food to put on your table.

You booted up the livestream and, having no idea where to go from there, just started talking. Eventually A small amount of viewers would pop in and you had questions to entertain. No one really tipped over 10 dollars on the stream. You tried to be energetic, hoping that maybe you would bring in more viewers that way, but it clearly wasn’t working. Nearly an hour goes by, and you’re starting to be disillusioned and a little disappointed. You start considering closing the stream down when a 200 dollar tip lights up your laptop screen, followed by a question from a no name account.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

You hadn’t been paid that much the entire stream, and it got the excitement back rushing in your veins. You answered “No!” a little too quickly for your liking but when the answer was followed up by another 100 dollar tip, you knew you didn’t embarrass yourself too much. 

All then you started chatting with this mystery account. They asked you all sorts of questions. They asked about your old job, the course you're studying, what you want to be when you leave school, your hobbies, ect. And you started to actually enjoy talking to this person. Not even for the money (All though, admittedly, still a big part of it), but just because there’s someone on the other side of the world that’s interested in your life. 

Eventually the stream did have to end when you looked up and realised how late it had gotten. By the time you were closing the stream and checking your account, you realised you had made around 1,000 dollars already. It felt great to see some actual money in your account for once. Before you finally shut down your laptop for good, you got a private dm request on the website, along with another 500 dollar sent to you.

“Hey, Love. Me and the boys want you to know we appreciate the chat. Hope to hear that sweet voice of yours again soon. 

Sincerely,

-Price.”

[sinofwriting]

Sex Positive - Charles Leclerc

Words: 2,470 Summary: Y/N goes on a podcast to talk about one thing and one thing only, sex. Note(s): NSFW just because this is just all sex talk, no actual sex, but it is the main topic of discussion. Part SMAU

Masterlist | Support Me!

“Y/N Y/L/N”

She smiles at the sound of her name, adjusting her headphones a bit until they finally seem to sit snug on her head.

“Welcome to the sex positive podcast.”

“Thank you for having me!”

“Thank you for coming on!” Elaine says. “When I reached out, I had hoped you would come on, but was shocked when you said yes.”

“I had to come on. We’ve known each other now for like two years?” Elaine nods at her words. “And yet despite that and this podcast doing so well, which by the way congrats on the new milestone. 250k is insane, and your profession we’ve never once talked about sex.”

“We have not.” Elaine laughs. “Probably because we also run into each other at events and dinners. Not the best place for me to ask how you feel about sex.”

“Well, I should tell you, I am coming on here to actually talk about how much I hate sex.” She says, ending her sentence with an eye roll, as she adjusts how she’s sitting, not even noticing her cardigan slip.

“Oh, yeah.” Elaine nods. “You hate sex.” She then nods to her left shoulder and her eyes drop and she lets out a laugh, seeing the love bites now exposed from the cardigan slipping.

“Like I said, I hate it.” She laughs.

“How is your relationship with sex? I mean, what has your experience been with it?”

She considers for a moment, “I’d say I have a good relationship with sex. It was never a topic that was shied away from when I was younger. My parents both gave me the talk, they made sure that I felt safe and comfortable to talk to them about it. They also never shied away from talking about how they had sex before they were adults, so if I did, they understood. All they asked was that I was safe.”

“And you think that’s helped?”

“Of course.” She nods. “I mean, I was sixteen when I had sex for the first time. Which was before all my friends and after that I was the one my girl friends came to for condoms and advice.”

“Was it good?”

She makes a face, “I mean, I think it was as good as two sixteen-year-olds having sex for the first time can be. A little awkward, some fumbling, finishing so quick.”

Elaine laughs, “Y’know that probably is as good as it can get.”

“Yeah.” She laughs.

“Were you like okay, I had sex this first time, I’ve experienced it, I’m good, or was it like me where you wanted to explore more.”

“Oh, I wanted to explore more. I didn’t have sex again for, I think like another two years. But I did so much self exploring. Just trying to see what I liked, what I was interested in, what I wasn’t interested in.”

“Porn?”

“Yes, there was quite a large amount of porn being watched. I read a lot of adult novels, guides, blogs, really just anything I could get my hands on.”

Elaine nods, tucking a leg underneath herself as she adjusts the microphone to be a little closer. “And this is something I’m curious about, how do you feel about porn? It’s something a lot of people are divided on, a lot of women especially.”

“I like porn. I enjoy it. Either just watching for pleasure or for research.” And she puts the last word in air quotes. “And please people listening or watching, if you see something you like in porn or are interested in, and this applies if you are reading something as well, look it up, read some guides and blog posts about it before doing it yourself. Just be safe.”

“Oh, please be safe. We have our own blog where we talk about different kinks, positions, various things and I urge you, along with everyone else who works on this podcast, to be safe with yourself and others.” Elaine says, addressing the camera before looking back at her. “So, you like porn.”

“Yes. Obviously not all porn is good, there are bad studios, there are overdone tropes, issues with the industry itself with it continuing to promote certain things because it earns them so much money. But I do enjoy it. It’s an industry that is always going to get criticized and hated and it deserves some of those criticisms without a doubt.”

“As a sex therapist, I do try to veer my clients away from porn, most of the time. And that’s mainly due to the acting of it. But it has its place in helping you learn and educate yourself. My issue is when people only look at porn and don’t look into things further.”

“Yeah, a hundred percent. It’s so important to not just take away things from porn but to take things away and expand on what you saw.” She nods.

“And of course I have to ask, what do you yourself like to watch in porn?”

“Hmm.” She thinks. “I think it depends on my mood. I think what I normally go for is something a little more rough. I’ve never really enjoyed watching people have like slow, gentle sex, not unless there’s something else there like overstimulation.”

“So, you like it rough?” Elaine asks.

She laughs, “Yes. It wasn’t something I had ever tried out before though until my current partner.”

“Really?”

She nods, “Really! I can admit that with my current partner, Charles, is where I’ve done a lot of exploring with someone else sexually. We’ve tried out many things.”

“Anything you guys didn’t like?”

“We don’t care for titles or honorifics.”

“You are crushing some dreams with that statement.”

“I know.” She laughs, well aware of the many tweets and things about wanting to call Charles daddy or sir. But it was just something that didn’t work for them in bed. The most was sometimes as a tease, she’d call him Mr. Leclerc and that was mainly to wind him up, not because the word itself was a turn on.

“What about things you’ve both enjoyed?”

“Oh, where to begin.” She teases, the both of them laughing. “Roleplay is one, bondage, edging, overstimulation. And I don’t consider this sex, but it is something we both enjoy a lot, cock warming.”

“That is quite the list.”

“Oh, just the tip of the iceberg.”

“Talk me through some of it. Bondage?”

“Yes. This was something we both had come into the relationship having never done before and wanting to do. We have the actual like rope you're supposed to use for when we do it, though sometimes we have used other things.”

Elaine shakes her head, grinning. “Of course you two have. I feel like if I see you two together, you’re always attached.”

“Pretty much. We both enjoy touch and Charles, despite all the interest in his personal life and how much already is exposed to the public, doesn't mind holding my hand or hugging or kissing me while in public.”

“Was that a worry of yours?” Elaine asks.

“Absolutely.” She nods, fingers interlacing. “I knew he’d at least, when I went to my first race, that he’d hold my hand, but I figured that might be it. And I didn’t want to bring it up since me going to Baku was so last minute for the both of us.”

“I’ve seen photos from that race and I would have never guessed that it was a last minute decision or that you two hadn’t talked about that yet.”

“Yeah, I got on a plane and was there by 11pm on Wednesday night, and the plane tickets had gotten bought maybe six hours before the plane took off. Charles had to send a photo of my ID to the front desk and had a spare key for me waiting since he had to be asleep already.”

“And then the next day, I mean you guys were very loved up.”

She grins, “we very much were. I think Charles knew I was nervous. We hadn’t officially been spotted together and he’s such a comforting person, very calming, so it was easy to not feel anxious with him holding me and pressing a kiss to my cheek every few minutes as y’know a bunch of people were taking photos of me and I’m being introduced to about a hundred people.”

“Which is overwhelming to say the least.”

“So overwhelming.” She nods.

“Though you might’ve liked that, since you’ve brought up overstimulation a few times.”

Her hands come up to hide her face, laughing into them, before they fall back into her lap. “I’d apologize, but I like what I like.”

“So it’s you being overstimulated.”

“Oh, absolutely. I find it very enjoyable.”

“I’ve never actually really talked about overstimulation, what is that you like about it? That you find to be enjoyable?”

“It’s the near constant feeling of too much, it’s so much pleasure just back to back, and everything depending on how you're doing it, can feel just like raw? And exposed? And you don’t think you can orgasm one more time, you just can’t again, but then you can and it feels at least in my experience just so good and then you do it again and again, and every time the pleasure of it just washing over you is even more and more and it’s the only thing you can focus on, everything else just fades away.”

“You make me want to try it.” Elaine laughs.

—

Charles’ head immediately perks up when he hears the hotel door open. “Chérie! How was the podcast?”

She smiles, setting her bag down, before moving over to the couch where Charles is sitting and happily sitting in his lap before Charles can pull her down. “It was good.” She finally says after kissing him.

He hums, “How good?”

She thinks, playfully humming as her fingers run through his hair. “Very good. I think your fans will want to kill me and so will Ferrari.”

He frowns, arms tightening around her. “Ferrari knows that you are allowed to do as you’d like. It is not like with,” He stops himself.

“I know, Charles.” She soothes. “But, they will be upset with me considering me talking about my sex life is talking about your sex life.”

He huffs, obviously not liking it, but he hopes that the podcast will do well, be received well, so at least Ferrari will be forced to accept it because fans like it.

“Did you mention me?”

Her eyebrow raises, “No. I want on a podcast to talk about my sex life so you obviously didn’t come up.”

He pouts at the tease and she can’t resist pressing a kiss to his pouty lips.

“Yes, I mentioned you. Multiple times and by name.”

He hums, moving his hands under her cardigan and top. “What did you say?”

“That we’ve done a lot of things together. That we like certain things.”

When she had accepted the invite it was only after a long talk with Charles, one she had to force, to go over what she could and couldn’t mention. Charles had been fine with her mentioning whatever she wanted. Uncaring that it would be out for the world to see, his colleagues, friends, and even family if for some reason they decided to click on it. He had stuck by that after their talk, though had asked her to keep most of the details of their roleplay and their love of rough sex to a minimum.

And it had been easy to not talk about what kind of roleplay they did and while rough sex had been mentioned twice, they were brief, just establishing her love of it.

“It did make me want to roleplay our favorite thing again.”

His eyes light up at her words.

It wasn’t often something they did, their favorite roleplay scenario, not when it required her to be in a certain headspace to really work, but she wants and craves it so much.

“You want to be my innocent little girl?” His voice has a bit of rasp, his fingers resting on her back, stretching out.

“Yes.” She breathes.

He leans forward, giving her a hungry kiss, his and her last chance to lose control, before pulling away. “Go get ready for me, bébé. I’ll find a place to have dinner.”

---