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sacredsorceress · 5 months ago

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Scars / Logan Howlett

pairing: dofp!logan howlett x mutant!reader summary: every person has a soulmate. after settling in the future that he saved, logan starts to consider his next mission when a suspicious mark appears on him. word count: 3.2k a/n: good ol'fashioned soulmate AU. this is the first actual fic i've written in a long time so please have some grace. reblogs and replies are super appreciated! warnings: general mentions of logan's past, scars, self-doubt, alcoholism, reader smokes a cigar, mentions of razors, scars, wounds, two uses of y/n

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It had been a week since Logan woke up in his healed timeline.

For most people, the change would have been dramatic. But Logan was far unlike most people. The initial dreamlike state he was in when he first walked through the mansion- seeing the ghosts he had once known returned to the flesh, unscathed- quickly subsided. Logan had always been a man thrown onto a new path- how he lived life constantly changing to best fit his interests. Now, with his newfound peace he found the most complicated mission of all: what to do with the life he was now free to live?

Even before the sentinels, the battles, the wars- he had always been a man on the run. He was solo, strategic, concise. For a man who was gifted with infinite regeneration, he had solely concerned himself with staying alive. He ate for sustenance, sought shelter for safety, and nursed a bottle to find enough peace of mind to sleep at night.

The professor had once told him that for a person to reach self-actualization they first had to have all of their needs met. Logan had scoffed at the time, assuring the professor that he knew himself just fine. But now, with his problems so solved that they had ceased to ever exist, he wondered if maybe the professor was right.

Who was he? Where did he go from here?

The answer was found in the form of a scar on his hand.

"Well, everything seems to be just fine."

Logan scoffed at the blue man in front of him

"Well it's not." Logan said. "Check again."

Two days after he had come back, a large, circular scar had appeared on the palms of each of his hands. When they hadn't disappeared after two minutes, he rushed to the bathroom and nicked himself with his razor, watching as the wound healed with only blood dripping down his scruff as a remanent of it. Thirty minutes after that he found himself in the lab with Hank, Jean, and the Professor hypothesizing his miraculous marks.

"Logan, the tests came back clear." Jean assured him, leaning against the wall. "Maybe it's time to consider that it's something else."

Logan quirked his head towards her.

"I haven't had a scar in over two hundred years," he reminded her, his voice laced with irony. "I get not one, but two and you... what? Think it's a coincidence?"

Before Jean had a chance at rebuttal, the professor moved to face Logan.

"That's not what Jean's inferring, Logan." Charles reminded him. "We're simply asking that you consider other options. Less... dire options. It could, after all, be a good thing."

"Yeah?" Logan scoffed. "Like what?"

A silence hung in the air.

When Logan had first come to them with news of his scar, the thought had been on all three of their minds. Still, there were a plethora of things that could have caused that. Though, when the tests came back clear and his skin continued to heal from all sorts of abrasions, it felt as if there was only one answer for his seemingly magical scars.

However, none of them were keen on sharing this diagnosis with Logan. One wondered whether he'd handle the idea of his body failing him over fated love.

Hank was the first to speak up.

"Like a soulmate."

Oh that was rich, Logan thought.

Logan wasn't unfamiliar with the idea of soulmates.

Around the time that two fated lovers were destined to meet, there would be a sign for each of them. In some cases they were eyes changing colors, feeling the other's pain, finding their names everywhere they looked. In other cases they were new birthmarks, tattoos, scars.

In some way, the two were inextricably connected.

In his long life he had seen others experience it dozens if not hundreds of times. When the first thirty years of his life rolled around with no one, Logan accepted that he was one of the outliers. He considered it for the best and by now, with everything that he had gone through, the concept of soulmates almost seemed like an old wives' tale.

Logan glanced at their faces. When he realized they were serious, a deep laugh escaped from his gut. There was a lack of light in his eyes that admitted his insincerity.

"So I disappear for a few decades and you all start believing in fairytales?" Logan pulled the needles from his arm, the heart rate monitor going flat as he did. "What a bunch of bullshit."

Jean laid her hand against his chest, urging him back into the seat.

"Logan." She soothed him. "This is a good thing. Scott and I-"

Oh this was real rich.

"Scott and you are... what, huh?" Logan urged. "Soulmates?"

Logan scoffed, swiping Jean's hand from his chest.

"Bet you're so happy with your 'soulmate' and that's why you lead me on, huh? That it? You're happy?" He taunted, a dark laugh escaping him once more. "Spare me-"

"Logan, that's enough!"

The professor's voice echoed against the linoleum walls of the lab, reverberating off of the medical equipment throughout.

"If you want to wallow in your own self-deprivation, be my guest, but spare the rest of us your grief." Charles continued. "I think it would be best if you go back to your quarters and consider the future the universe has offered you."

The energy in the air was thick.

Jean and Hank avoided Logan’s eye contact while the professor’s nearly burned a whole through him.

Accepting defeat, Logan threw his hands up in the air and pushed himself out of his metal chair.

“Fine.”

Soulmates. Logan thought. Who would believe in a thing like that?

"It's a pleasure to see you again."

The atmosphere in the mansion was a stark contrast to the lab Charles had been in days before.

Now the school day had commenced: children skipping from class to class, students chatting with their friends in the hallway, teachers grabbing coffee between lessons. Amidst the organized chaos, Charles had arranged to meet you in the foyer: the replacement history teacher for Logan's class.

"You too, professor." You smiled, reaching out your hand. "I was so glad to hear from you."

Your hand hung in the air briefly, awaiting his return. Charles examined it for a moment- a twinkle in his eye- before taking it. His thumbs brushed against the newfound scars between your knuckles as he did.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you didn't always have these scars, did you, Y/n?" Charles asked.

You had not.

You had woken with them a few days before. Despite your powers rooted in chaos magic, it wasn't uncommon for blemishes or wounds to etch themselves into your skin. However, you often knew why. These marks, scars, were not faint, but instead quite profound. Three thick, healed over wounds patched together like a stitch on the back of each of your hands.

"No professor."

He closed his eyes, a soft smile gracing his lips. Though you knew he wished to ask more questions, the moment was broken by Logan.

"Ah, the man himself." Charles beamed. "Logan, I'd like you to meet Y/n. She'll be covering your class."

You had seen your fair share of news stories about the Wolverine. Who hadn't? Though the television had never prepared you for just how tall, or broad he was.

"It's nice to meet you, Logan."

"You too." He nodded, taking your hand.

His hand lingered in yours for a moment. Charles cleared his throat.

"We were just discussing the most peculiar scar on Y/n's hand." Charles said. "Appeared just a few days ago out of nowhere."

Charles nodded his head in the direction of your hand, leading Logan to squint. As if a light bulb had gone off over his head, Logan glanced between Charles and yourself and with your hand still in his, he turned it examine the back.

Three scars between your knuckles. Right where his own claws would be.

Though he liked to imagine himself as the patron of remaining suave, Logan's eyebrows shot up at the recognition. He traced his view from your hands, up your torso, to your face where you eyed him questioningly.

He thought back to the way that he woke up in the seventies, wrapped in the arms of another woman. If times had been different and Logan hadn't undergone all the so-called character development in the last forty years, he was sure that a face like yours would have gotten him in a lot of trouble. You were beautiful, and your demeanor highlighted your strength.

Your face radiated kindness, warmth and most of all, sincerity- a trait that was difficult to come by in a trade such as his.

But then Logan recalled that this wasn't the seventies and you weren't at some bar leading him on the entire night: your hand was in his and, according to everyone else, he was yours.

The idea almost couldn't register in Logan's brain.

"Interesting, isn't it, Logan?" Charles asked, breaking the silence. "Almost identical to where your claws are, hmm?"

Oh the professor thought he was quite funny.

Logan pulled his hand back from your grasp and shook his head.

"Not that easy, Charles." Logan commented before turning to you, a spiteful tone in his voice. "See you around, bub."

Before you had the chance to open your mouth, you watched as Logan stomped down the nearest hallway, his boots squeaking against the floorboards as he did. His fists clenched and released at his sides as he disappeared from view.

His reaction had come so far from left field that if it hadn't given you whiplash, it would have hurt your ego. Instead you turned back to the professor.

"Was it something I said?" You asked.

The professor shook his head, patting your hand gently.

"Logan's quite a complicated man." He assured you. "I'm sure you'll come to know that more than the rest of us. Now, to your classroom..."

Glancing over your shoulder to the void-like hallway that Logan went down, you considered the professor's words.

A storm had taken over the mansion by nightfall.

As you padded down the wood panelled hallways, the lightbulbs shook in their glass with each thunder clap- wind swatting at the window panes every few seconds. The pitter patter of the raindrops, although harsh, was comforting. It was almost as if the mansion had been engulfed by the storm, trapping everyone inside, while consequently making the outside world feel a thousand miles away.

When you found Logan's door, tucked in at the end of the hallway, you knocked.

"Yep."

The weight of the door fell against the palm of your hands as you pushed it open.

Logan's room was dark. The only light in the space had been from the embers of the cigar that hung in his mouth, cradled between his thumb and forefinger. Despite the darkness, you could make out his figure sitting at his desk chair by the window, feet kicked up on the sill.

Logan only gave you a quick glance over his shoulder before turning back to the view.

"What d'you want?"

His voice was thick and rough around the edges.

"I came for your textbooks." You replied, tiptoeing against his floorboards. "The professor said you'd have them."

The hand of his that held the cigar waved around. Minuscule ashes fell to the floor as your eyes remained trained on the light and the faint glow of the moon that illuminated the side of his face.

"Be my guest," he said. "Don’t have a clue where they are."

The professor had given you the lowdown when he saw your scars.

Charles told you that despite everything that you had learned- the history that you had known- the Wolverine you'd meet was not the same person. He was a man from a different time with far different, darker memories and enough baggage to weigh down dozens.

Amidst the silence, you cleared your throat.

"Must be hard to wake up in someone else's life."

By now you had reached his desk, your fingertips tracing the lines in the dark, lacquered wood.

You could smell him and the cigar from this distance- aftershave mixed with smoke.

"The professor tell you that?"

"Mhm."

The chair creaked as Logan flicked his hand towards the window, ushering you to come closer.

Watching your step in the dark, you maneuvered around the furniture and sat beside Logan on his desk- pushing loose papers to the side.

"He give you his whole spiel on soulmates too?" He asked, eyes trained on the rain outside.

Soulmates.

Now that was the last thing you expected to come from the Wolverine's mouth.

You'd heard of them more times than you could count. You once wondered whether every repetitive coincidence was a sign that your person was coming. But, when that never happened, you lost hope.

Who got to tell you who you belonged to anyway?

Leaning over, you gingerly took the cigar from his grasp and replaced it with your own fingers. Sitting back into the desk as lightening struck a tree in the distance, you took a puff.

"So that's what the scars on my hands were all about," You thought aloud.

The window fogged as you let the smoke leave from your mouth in a breathy sigh.

Logan tapped his fingers on his thighs, counting the seconds between a lightening strike and its consecutive rumble of thunder.

"Listen, I'm no prince charming if that's what you came here looking for."

Logan's chair creaked again as he leaned back in his seat. His arm draped against the desk as he met your gaze.

You chuckled and held out his cigar, offering it back to him.

"I came here looking for textbooks." You laughed. "You're the one who keeps talking about soulmates. I think you're more of a romantic than you let on.”

His fingers brushed against yours as he took the cigar back into his own hand. Another lightning strike met the ground in the distance, a clap of thunder following moments afterwards.

"You don't buy it?" Logan quirked his eyebrow. It was a teasing question, one he was curious to hear your answer to.

You shrugged.

"I don't think the universe gets to tell me who to love," you said. "If I fall in love with you it's because I love you, Logan. Not because some mark told me to. I just think of it as... a little shove in the right direction.”

The corner of his mouth quirked into a smile for the first time.

"A shove?"

"Like a... blind date." You finished. "Ever been on one of those?"

A congested laugh escaped him.

"Sweetheart, do I look like the type of guy to go on a blind date?"

You bit the inside of your cheek at the name.

Rolling your eyes, you swatted at his arm. You wouldn't admit how much it hurt your knuckles to do so. You'd have to make a mental note to remember his adamantium skeleton.

"Gosh, you're cocky!"

Logan shrugged, "You're the one who likes it apparently."

You felt yourself grow hot at his accusation.

Even though he had a mark signalling his future affection for you, you couldn't help but feel embarrassed by Logan's knowledge of yours. You felt like a child who's crush had just been exposed to the whole class. Was he noting ever glance that you gave him? The way you didn't move when his arm brushed against yours?

A brief pause hung in the air until another thunder clap reverberated against the walls.

"So what's your mark?" You asked.

Logan shoved the cigar into the corner of his mouth. The biting motion forced him to flex his jaw in a way that you would refuse to admit made you start to realize that maybe the universe was right.

And that maybe his cockiness was justified.

He laid out his hands for you. The room was still dark, making the ability to discern the details of his scar impossible. Taking Logan's hands in yours, you summoned your magic into your hands, watching as they glowed gold.

Logan had two large, circular scars imprinted into his palms. It was a clear indicator of your own magical power that surged from your hands.

It left a feeling you couldn't describe in your chest to know that someone else was marked for you. They were destined for you. To be with you. You had a future written together before the two of you had met. Even if he rejected you, there was a sign etched into his skin that bound the two of you together in some fateful way.

Gently, you traced your fingertips against the mark, feeling the warmth that radiated from his palms.

When your eyes flicked upwards, you noticed how close the two of you were now sitting. You could feel his warm breath against your lips as the lingering smell of the cigar drifted up your nose.

Although he wouldn’t admit it, Logan was enchanted by the energy radiating from you. Whether people hated or loved him, his ability got a lot of talk. In his mind though, he would never be a hero. He was just some guy who got lucky.

You, though? He didn’t need you to tell him that you were an Omega level mutant. Logan had heard about you from the professor: you could cast spells, read minds, reconfigure reality- to name a few. You didn't need a reason to fight for what's right, you just did. Again, and again, and again. Even here, now, you were picking up Logan's history class when he knew very well you could be on the other side of the world sipping pina coladas if you wanted.

What the hell was the universe thinking putting you with him?

Logan admired the reflection of the magic on your cheeks and the way your eyes stayed trained on his palms. Your touch was so gentle he could have sworn he was in a distant dream until your eyes met his.

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, gaze locked.

Then another clap of thunder shook the mansion.

You quickly leaned back, pulling your hands from Logan's touch.

"I should... I should go." You said, pushing yourself off of Logan's desk. "It's getting late and I have my first class in the morning."

Logan leaned back in his seat. He said nothing but eyes remained fixed on your form as you made your way towards the door.

Looking back at him with your hand on the knob you made a mental note to remember the image of him with his feet kicked back on the window as he smoked his cigar.

A soft smile remained.

"Good night, Logan."

When you didn't leave immediately, he nodded.

"Night, sweetheart."

Mustering up the courage to shoot him one last smile, you pulled open the door and stepped outside.

Now, Logan didn't know how much he believed in soulmates, but he could be inclined to consider that it was one good wingman.

Leaning back in his seat, Logan sighed and closed his eyes, letting himself drown out his worries with the sound of the rain.

a/n: my inbox is open for more requests! thank you for the request @welcometochilis585

#wolverine #logan howlett #logan #logan howlett x reader #logan x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine fluff #wolverine fanfiction #xmen #xmen fanfiction #deadpool and wolverine

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acid-ixx · 5 months ago

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brutus: out for blood (villain au concept)

ft. neglectful yandere! bruce wayne x gn villain! reader

— masterlist !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: did anybody ask for this? no! did i decide to write this anyways? abso -fucking-lutely. is this a rantfic? mayybee. anyways, this is not my best piece nor will anything i write be my best piece but i just love destroying my happiness with angst and altho writing a very anxiety ridden mc is fun, i also love to dabble in sadomasochistic traits for a main character. like i said, i am not proud of this but i figured i should post something. erm... leave comments bec i love reading whatever stuff u guys have in store hehe.

you've tasted blood on your tongue far longer than you've felt the loving touch of a family.

it's metallic. it's salty. it twists every vein in your gut.

it tastes of broken metal pipes in playgrounds, destructive tantrums and broken dreams, of skipped classes and detention rooms, of ripped test papers and missed diplomas. it reminds you of your bitter past every single time; one you swore you've buried six feet deep into the ground. a burning memory with nothing more than heartaches and heartbreaks.

you taste blood whenever they reject your advances for even a single moment of bonding time. you feel it pumping slowly, steadily, painfully whenever you stumble upon a room, only to see them, smiles and all, huddled together in a group with junk food in their hands and a movie playing in that stupid flat screen tv. you know it's the only thing accompanying you whenever he misses another event in your school. it becomes the only friend you have whenever you're alone, inside your too-small room, with shatters glass scattered around and bruised knuckles.

blood, for most, is vile, utterly repulsive. it reeks in every corner of a room, its scent is overpowering, it stains, it's hard to clean. it imprints. and it will always remind you it's there, in the depths of your body, curdling and boiling and ready to burst out of the seems every time you rip at your skin with a razor sharp blade. blood has always been your only friend, like a scar that will never fade away.

yet you embrace crimson like it was the color of your soul, and accept how it's the only color you allow in your grim life. black has never provided you solace, but red allowed for a mantra of emotions to trail into your very being.

blood. it's more homely than you let it out to be.

and you're far more familiar with it than anything else. you cradle it like an unwanted child, you kiss its wounds, allow it to fester and grow into an abhorrent disease that crawls like a lump in your throat that you could never get rid of.

in moments of solace, of quaint prayers and hours of kneeling into the floor— it is the thing that slides on cold, hard tiles. it is the warmth, the numbness, the thing that seeps out of your bruised knees, your scratched neck and your thighs with fingernails buried deep into flesh.

you've come to love blood, cherish it even.

especially if it's your own.

especially if it came from the punch of none other than your father.

left, right, left, right.

his punches were cruel and his kicks can easily crush bones into powder. he demands answers with every strike he delivers, he exudes an energy far more adrenaline based than yours. batman is methodical in the way he moves, the way he acts, and you're not; you're impulsive, you had no plans to counter the towering man— no counter for the brutal hits he lay upon you. you let him, you open every doorway world to beat your body black and blue, with red painting the canvas as a finishing touch.

he's stronger than you, and every time he bashes your head into the wall, the urge to spit into his face, to piss him off, to laugh at him and his Idiocracy; it all becomes stronger.

yet all you do was allow him multiple openings, denying yourself the pleasure of attempting to even take your abandoned gun at the corner and shoot at his cranium— you want him to suffer, even if it costs you your mobility by the near future, fuck it.

up, down, to the side, then an uppercut to your jaw and you're nearly depleted of anymore moves to counter. you want to seem like you've given up; but you want him pissed off, enough to punch you 'til blood seeps into the fibers of your mask. until your face starts bruising, until your nose breaks, until he finally rips your mask off and sees your face.

and he'll come to regret.

you shift to the side, and ignore the sting of your throat, the lull of your head and the soreness of your entire body.

because if you hadn't dodged, then your head would've left an imprint on the walls. you would've preferred that now, rather than the disgusting feeling of sentimentality that creeps into your heart at the implication that his blows were slowly, but surely, weakening.

he's holding back, you hold back a sneer.

as if he actually cares about you.

maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. you know he cares far more deeply for his enemies than he does you, and you hate how glad you are at the pride that finally, just finally are you being acknowledged. at the opposite end of his side, as enemies. but for once you can feel the care he offers others, most of which were nonexistent back when you were just some... nobody.

batman never kills; but he can hurt, he can injure, and he can destroy. and right now, you feel all the air leaving your body as the cloaked vigilante delivers the last punch to your ribcage.

you fall, on your hands and knees, a loud thump resounding through the empty abandoned building. all you hear are your crackling joints, and heavy breathing. heavy, like your eyelids, about to fall, about to shut until black encompasses your vision. if not for the remaining adrenaline coursing through your veins, you would've fainted— but you won't, you wouldn't, not until you see him, see his face.

the thumping in your heart beats louder, and your hands. god, they feel like jelly, it's burning, it's one step closer on collapsing under gravelly concrete and piercing skin into rocks. yet you're forbidden any time for grace, not when he lightly shoves you out of your position, and not when you fall to your sides, hands paralyzed, tears prickling against your cheeks at the pain that burns throughout your body.

"you don't deserve peace after shooting that family in front of that child, you know it."

his voice, domineering, absolutely fucking vibrating with a tremor of sheer anger. he directs his words at you, without empathy, without mercy. he wants you to learn to never mess with him in the streets of gotham. but you'll never... not until he notices you. fuck, you just want him to notice you. and now, he is, with utter vexation that causes a lump in your throat to form.

shit, you've never felt so happy.

it's when his tussled form — heavy, pitch-black boots slathered with crimson liquid — enters your sight that you cough, violently, out of breath, and you can feel it one second, then taste it in your tongue the next.

blood.

you grin, and slowly, ever-so eminently, did you spiral into a cackle. your throat gurgles crimson liquid, and yet it only builds into a cacophony of a broken record. you move your head, look through your nearly shredded domino mask, with so little strength to accompany you, to look at the man above you, eyes glinting with a glow never so alive until now.

you're genuinely so fucking happy.

batman, he who strikes fear into the hearts of gotham villains and civilians alike. he who protects the city at night. he whose name is said with wavering uncertainty— he's looking at you, only you.

'bruce wayne: my dad— is finally looking at me.'

and you! you're laughing, the sounds that emanate from your throat are so scratchy, so utterly decimated that it sounds like vultures feeding through a dead corpse; but you don't let your chuckles die down, because you're so, so happy.

he looks at you, with contempt, with disgust, you don't know; but you're still so overjoyed.

"y-yeah... it's me, i did it. are you proud of me...?" you ask as you look up, through the tears that flow out your eyes, through the grin that couldn't die down. he looks at you like you're insane, and you know he's confused, shifting uncomfortably as he gives someone a status update through the comms, his eyes never leaving your pathetic form—

you look at him like he means the world all throughout.

"call for red robin, i have one of the culprits," he orders through the intangible device, eyes squinting as he takes you in— you whose chuckles slowly calmed down, as your breathing finally becomes heavier, as blood, yours, seem to seep into clumsily made apparel. you, who bruce realized seem too oddly familiar, too small, too childish, whose moment of spiraling insanity is too damn innocent to ignore.

you're not like the typical rogue he encounters, no. and right before you finally allow sleep to overcome you, you muster the last of your energy, to stare back at him with shining eyes, expectant, and like a child's, you ask with the meekest voice.

"hey... dad, i have a surprise." scratchy, absolutely broken, yet spilling with joy, with... your last word right before you continue, bruce's heart thumps ever the slightest faster.

"take my mask off, please?"

crimson began to overtake your entire body, and bruce should've never complied with your... request, but as he kneels and finally gets a grasp of what you truly look like, he notices the frailness, the vulnerability, as if you were never built for... combat. with just how quickly you succumb to the depths of rest, with how oblivious you are to the fact that if it were anyone else, they would've killed you.

you're not properly trained, you fight out of impulse, and he knows it with just how swift you gave up midfight.

when he pulls the domino mask (which seems oddly inspired by the shape of... his vigilante partners, the robins...) off your face, did his heart finally hastened its pace, loud thumping crawling its way to his ears, his eyes registering your face: its form, its shape, your eyes, your nose—

all similar to his, all an amalgamation of your mother's, too.

no... wait, no.

it's not...

it's not his... child?

you?

your eyes, flickering one last time stared at him, softly, like that of a child who looks at their father with pride like nothing else. your hand, it shakes, it shivers, as your fingers find its way creeping to his hand, holding your mask. fingers so dainty, now pulverized bones lay atop his shivering hand, tenderly, as if trying to comfort the very same man who has nearly killed you.

batman— no, bruce looks at you. at what he's done, and only now did he realize his greatest mistake. a child, his child, one whose innocence retained through heinous acts, now a villain, whose actions were all a testimony to merely wanting their father's attention.

he failed you, his child. he failed to protect you, who he has never held up close until now— as your body is hastily taken into his arms. so small, so easily wrapped around his body, so unbefitting of committing criminal activity. now bloodied and laid into barren ground by their very own father.

bruce wayne never felt this much terror, for nearly killing his child.

this, this day marks his sin.

and you? dearest you feel like today is your greatest day.

crimson, nearly every part of you is stained with that putrid color.

yet blood has always been your best friend, no? and right now as you bleed into the arms of your father, you find yourself grateful that it is the last thing you see before a black cloak wraps around you, before black fills your entire line of sight.

short rant ahead: another author's note??? wow. yeah this was such a hard drabble to write. plsplspls leave a comment or some sort of input. anything will do. ive been so demotivated to write lately and i feel like anything i write is just, so bad 😭 like is my pacing good? are the emotions out of place? am i even doing this right ?? i don't know, and i feel like every time i post something i always put up expectations on myself that I should've done better so yeahh. is this attention seeking behavior? probably. but i don't get how people have come to like the stuff i write when i hate whatever i write hence why im in a constant cycle of hiatuses and short breaks. and really, it's just so hard to come into terms with things and i need input lest i accidentally get into a year or two of hiatus, lmaoo.

#🌷... yael's works #🧁... yael's misc.#series: again & again #concept: brutus #yandere dc #yandere batfam #yandere bruce wayne #yandere batman #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x male reader #yandere x female reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere angst #platonic yandere #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n

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un-fwuit-un-fwog · 4 days ago

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The Rain is Especially Loud Tonight

Synopsis: The Prefect gets hurt due to Crowley's negligence.

TW: Injury, Stitches, Medical Stuff, Prefect gets caught under a collapsed Ramshackle

Part 1 (here), Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (coming soon)

Tick Tick Tick Tick

The room would be completely silent were it not for the ticking of the clock on the wall.

The environment was more comfortable than your usual medical setting, but it still felt cold in a way.

The door creaked open and in stepped professor Crewel. "Hey, Pup." His voice lacked its usual stern tone one would hear in the classroom; instead, his voice was gentle and almost hoarse.

The hoarseness was no doubt a result of him screaming at the headmage in a roar you shiver even recalling. He had spent hours tearing into the man for his gross negligence and irresponsibility.

"Pup?" His voice became more worried when you failed to answer.

"Sorry." A meek, rasped voice leaves you throat. Your throat burns with dryness despite the 6 glasses of water you already drank, and it feels like every syllable echoes through your head and causes an intense, throbbing pain. You don't recognize the voice that claws its way out of your throat as your own.

You hear the soft scrape of a chair on the floor next to your bed. "No. Don't apologize, Pup." Rocking your gaze slowly over to him its clear to you, with the way his jaw clenches and unclenches while his eyes search the blanket covering you, that he wants to say something, but isn't sure what.

You slowly rock your head to look forward again. "Everyone's been in such a panic. . .and it's my fault, I-"

The man cuts you off as you choke on your words: "Pup. This is not your fault."

"But-" Your throat feels like its been given a massage with a thousand razor blades. The coughing your attempts to speak cause only make the pain worse.

Crewel quickly grabs another glass of water and holds it up to your lips for you to drink. "But nothing, Pup- Keep those arms down or you'll re-open the wounds. That old building was bound to collapse at some point. We all knew it. If the fault is on anyone it's on us staff. Crowley made you stay there, and we didn't stop him." The glass cup clinks slightly too harshly onto the nightstand as he sets it down.

Silence falls between the two of you.

Tick Tick Tick Tick

The ticking of the clock numbs your thoughts. You force your mind to stop focusing on the pain radiating from every inch of your body and instead listen to the steady ticking of the clock. The only other sound that can be herd is the occasional hurried footsteps outside the door as the other staff do their best to take care of the situation.

Your injuries have already been treated by a specialty team sent from STYX the moment the news got to them. They were the only ones aside from Grim, Leona, and the staff that had seen your mangled form before you were wrapped up like a mummy. You didn't have to ask how bad it was. Seeing Crowley throw up at the sight of you was enough to tell you it was bad.

The STYX team had spent nearly a whole 24 hours stitching you back together like some ragdoll and rearranging the many pieces of you that had been ripped and jostled out of place. If not for them. . .well, you don't want to think about it. If you looked like a mummy on the outside, you were sure that under the bandages you looked like Frankenstein's monster. There really wasn't a single bit of you that got out of that death trap unscathed.

You were kept in the school infirmary instead of being carted off to some high-tech STYX facility only because they needed to operate on you as soon as possible and didn't want to move you too much after the initial procedures. They made do by shipping a ton (literally speaking, more like 3 tons) of medical equipment to the school, most of which was now littered around the infirmary in a rushed yet professional way.

Despite your closeness to your friends, the only people who had come to see you were the staff. It's not that none of your friends wanted to see you, but that they weren't allowed to. The doctor's worried having them in so soon, when they were still full of hysteria from the news, wouldn't be the best idea. They weren't able to text you either as your phone had been crushed in the collapse.

"How's Grim?"

Professor Crewel hums: "Physically, he's pretty unscathed. He just has a few scrapes and bruises. Mentally, he's a bit traumatized."

You supposed that made sense. You didn't remember much, but what you did remember was Grim's voice. He had been returning to the dorm from after school detention when he found the building in shambles on the ground. He called out to you but your lungs were filled with debris and your torso was being crushed by layers of rubble. The dorm ghosts met Grim at the edge of the junk pile that used to be a dorm and confirmed that you were inside and that you needed help. The ghosts talked to you as you laid there, not being able to physically move anything off you themselves. They kept you awake and assured you that Grim was getting help.

Not long later you heard shouting. Two of the ghosts stayed with you while the third went out to meet the staff and fill them in. You were told after the fact that that's about the time they called up Leona to use his unique magic so they could get you out as soon as possible (that was the first time many saw the lion run).

You were blanking in and out of consciousness when they found you, but you remember them finding you. The feeling of the weight of the rubble lessening as it was methodically turned to sand and removed (in order to not end up crushing you with sand instead), the small grains dripping on your face, and eventually, the full force of the pouring rain battering your face as the last of the rubble was removed from above you. You remember Leona's manic eyes turning horrified, Crowley puking, and worst of all, Grim's face.

"STYX sent over a few trauma counselors. There are ones assigned specifically to Leona and Grim as well since they saw some of the worst of it." Crewel finally broke the silence again.

"And you? You and. . .the other teachers were there too. . .and Sam."

"Calm down, Pup. We've all had evaluations done to assess how we're handling it. We'll be fine.

"What about. . ." Your voice trails off, but from the look in your eyes, Crewel can tell what you were about to ask.

"What about the headmage?"

You nod, wincing slightly when the motion disturbs an injury on your neck.

"He's under investigation." Crewel responds after a brief pause. He knew that you surely couldn't be all that fond of the crow, but as you saw it, he was probably also your only ticket home. Crewel looked up to gauge your response, but your face remained neutral.

"And you, Pup? I obviously know you aren't doing particularly well physically right now, but what about mentally?"

"Hm?"

Crewel hesitated, not wanting to dig around in a mental wound and make it worse, "You were. . .under there for a while. I'm sure it must've been. . .scary."

You think for a moment before responding: "Was I really under there that long? It didn't feel like it. . .I think I passed out a few times." Your mumbled words put Crewel at ease in a way. He's not happy that you had been passing out, but he was at least glad that you weren't stuck under there fully conscious and feeling every second tick by as if it were an hour.

"Hmm. I see." Crewel nods. "I ought to let you rest now. A counselor will stop by tomorrow to talk to you about what happened." He stands up as he says this, his knuckles still white from how tightly he'd been gripping the fabric of his pants. "Rest well, Pup."

You simply nod, this time more carefully as to not disturb your wounds, and watch him walk out. When the door closes you swear you hear a choked sob.

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hotyanderedaddies · 1 year ago

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Trying to Ignore a Yandere Demon Who Wants to Claim You

[Yandere! Demon x GN! Anxious Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

"Whatever you do, do not-- I repeat: DO NOT acknowledge the demon in any manner. If you do, then he can latch onto you and take you."

The words of the psychic you'd contacted for help kept filtering through your head as you stared blankly forward, forcing your eyes to laser focus in on the bright colors of the TV. The volume was on full blast as you attempted to drown out the sounds of him.

"Darling," that eerie, deep voice echoed out. Its user was so close that could feel its hot breath wafting over your cheek, but you refused to give the slightest indication that you'd heard it.

"If a love demon decides that it wants you, then it'll follow you around nonstop like a lovesick puppy. It'll do anything to get you to notice it..."

The demon playfully ran one of his fingers through your hair, his skin hot to the touch. He completely dwarfed you, looking like he outweighed you by fifty pounds of pure muscle and was taller by at least two feet. His demonic proportions made him look hulking and menacing, yet whenever he looked at you, his mouth pulled into a large smile.... full of razor sharp teeth.

"Will you look at me, Darling?" he asked, sticking out his lower lip mockingly. "I love you. I only want to talk to my darling."

"Don't look at it. Don't listen to it. Don't react to its movements. The slightest indication that you're aware of its presence is a sign the demon takes that you've agreed to be theirs..."

The demon huffed, irritated. He stomped his way in front of the TV and glared at you with his glowing eyes. "I know you see me," he accused.

You refused to stop glancing forward, pretending that you could still see whatever show you were trying to watch.

The demon tore his shirt away from his body, showing off his impressive chest muscles. He held his arms out, as if to show off to you. "Check it out, Darling," he announced, "I'm bigger than most of the other love demons. So I can protect you and take very good care of you."

He slowly approached the couch.

"Because a love demon makes its presence known to only one person: their darling."

"I love you so much, Darling," the demon cooed, placing both of his hands on either side of your face.

You winced internally and tried your best to look deadpan, avoiding the demon's glare with all of your might.

You refused to break, because if you did, then you'd belong to a demon for all eternity.

But damn it, he was persistent.

Ever since he'd made his presence known to you last week, the demon followed you around everywhere you went, trying to get you to acknowledge him:

He'd cause a ruckus in class, throwing textbooks and chairs around, leading to the other students thinking that you were out of your mind and throwing them yourself.

He'd follow you into the shower and jerk off as you bathed, talking about how he couldn't wait to touch you himself.

He'd sing soft lullabies to you as you tried to sleep. And he would frequently get under the covers with you too, snuggling you from behind.

He'd follow you whenever you went grocery shopping, threatening to push one of the elderly shoppers in front of one of the moving vehicles in the parking lot. But you couldn't warn the other person unless you wanted to be taken by a demon. RIP.

He'd even gone so far as to set your dinner on the stove on fire, and you had to mutter loudly that you'd foolishly forgotten to turn the gas off.

He was growing impatient.

"Darling," the demon growled, baring his large teeth at you, "all you have to do is notice me, and I promise that you'll be all mine. All mine, and no one else's. Doesn't my sweet baby want that?"

He bit down on his lower lip for a second before perking up.

Before you could guess what was going on in his mischievous head, the demon pressed his warm lips against yours. They were soft to the touch and warm thanks to his high body heat.

It felt good at first, until he playfully bit down on your lower lip--

With a loud gasp, you jerked back and made eye contact with the demon out of shock. Oh shit...

"Finally!" the love demon laughed as your heart fell to the floor.

He lunged forward and wrapped both of his arms around you, yanking you deep into his embrace as if he were a cage. The temperature seemed to rise rapidly in the tiny living room as the demon began to transport you to wherever he dwelled, and to wherever you knew he'd never let you leave.

"W-wait!" you tried to beg.

"It's too late for that, Darling," the love demon laughed. "You're mine and I'm going to enjoy my prize all night long. I love you, Darling, thank you so much for accepting me."

"If you acknowledge the love demon, they'll take you away to be theirs forever, with no hope of ever escaping them or their crazed love..."

#yandere boyfriend #yandere boy #yandere daddy #yandere x reader #yandere x you #obsessive love #possessive boyfriend #demon #yandere demon #yandere monster #demon x human #demon x reader

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that-sarcastic-writer · 5 months ago

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A Ballad of Lost Souls

Eric Draven (2024) X f!reader

Summary: what happens when two lost souls find each other? Cling to each other? Love could be a very dangerous drug indeed. You and Eric meet during rehab.

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, brief handjob, hair pulling, choking, size difference, size kink if you squint, bit of inexperienced!reader, Eric is actually a sweetheart, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of substance abuse, addiction, mentions of suicidal thoughts, this movie is dark what do you want me to say

Reader has tattoos, but has no further specifications, y’all get to be tattooed girlies today, you’re welcome

WC: 5.7K I’m sorry

Inspo creds @kingkat12, she also posted an Eric fic with the same concept and some of the elements of this story like some of the dialogue bits were inspired after reading hers. Please give her some love! She’s a great writer

A/N: NOBODY LOOK AT ME. idc, I love Eric okay, stfu. I just had to write him. He just needs love man. That’s all. I want to give him love. So here you go. I might make a part two if there’s enough interest. When I tell you the Eric fic supply is LOW, I’ve never seen one so LACKING. So I just had to yk? Enjoy and don’t cancel me alright.

You didn’t often dwell on the past. You had a live in the moment kind of mindset. You didn’t know where you’d be tomorrow so you made the best of the moment. But sometimes, you wondered just where your bad decisions were taking you. You didn’t mean to end up here, in this awful bubblegum pink sweater and sweatpants, surrounded by people who didn’t care why you were here, or if you got better or not. The disappointed words of your mother played in your head, and the angry words of your father hammered in the back of your head. You were a fucking disappointment, and that’s why you were here.

You thought about ending it. This mess your life had become. It wouldn’t be too hard to find a razor around here if you truly tried. Who would miss you anyway? What even was the point of it all? By day two you couldn’t take this shit anymore. And then you saw him in the yard. You were almost entranced by him. He was so tall, he towered over everyone he walked past, you couldn’t imagine how ridiculous you would look standing next to him. You could see his ink cover his hands and fingers, and you wondered just how far the ink traveled. You were intrigued by him, he was quiet, morbidly so, he didn’t say a word to anyone, no matter how much they pressed or tossed him around, he just stared. Whether it was the doctors, the counselors, the guards. He always chose silence. And he always had this look of defiance, of apathy, he took everything with a locked jaw and deadpan eyes. And that intrigued you.

Should you try to entertain anyone in this facility, let alone the loner covered in tattoos? No, absolutely not. But lord, something about him drew you in.

You caught glimpses of him for a few days, in the cafeteria when you walked past him to your table, maybe he thought you didn’t notice, but you caught him turning his head to watch you walk by. One time, your eyes met, they were a pretty shade of green. It was brief though, as soon as he realized you caught him, his eyes were in front of his plate, but not before you managed to flash him a tiny smile. Welcoming, playful.

Eric remembered that.

The next time you saw him was out in the yard. They encouraged exercise in this place, for some dumb reason. The most people did around here was stand in a corner, feeling completely miserable under the scorching sun. But much to your surprise, after some time walking around the yard you found Eric, lingering by the gym equipment. It wasn’t much, just a pull up bar and that was barely tall enough to accommodate him. No weights, of course, because someone could hurt themselves, or someone else with them. It wasn’t much, but you couldn’t help but watch as he pulled his sweatshirt over his head, revealing even more tattoos going up both of his arms. You stood in a corner like a fucking weirdo, watching as he did pull up’s, as best as he could having to bend his long legs to accommodate the short bar. Why were you just staring at this man you’ve never even spoken to? Of that you had no clue. But you couldn’t take your eyes away. He had his back to you, but even under the material of his white t-shirt you could see the muscles in his shoulders tense, his arms flexing with each pull. And you could only I magine the true sight of him. Sweat dripping down his forehead, lips pulled between his teeth as he did each pull. God, you felt like such a pervert. You shouldn’t be eye fucking him like this, but you couldn’t help it, something about him twisted the most secluded corners of your mind.

Ultimately your trance was cut short, since it didn’t take long for a group of guys to take interest in whatever Eric was doing and went straight to push him around some more. You frowned, almost upset by the sight of him getting tossed around and hazed like this. You couldn’t hear what was happening, but Eric had his head down, chest heavy as he clenched his fists at his sides, but he otherwise did nothing. You didn’t care, any fucks you still had to give were gone the moment your parents and your ex-boyfriend conspired to send you here. You were about to walk over there, not caring about what weird opposite sex rules this place had. But when you started walking, Eric did too, getting shoulder checked as he pushed his way past the group of guys. You felt awful, you wanted to say something to him, but you were frozen when he walked past you, his green eyes shooting a quick glance at you, a bit of curiosity laced in them. But you were more focused on how his shirt was clinging to his sweaty chest. And just like that he was gone.

The next time you saw him was during a group meeting that afternoon. You were almost disappointed at first when he didn’t show. You sulked into your seat for the first minute or two, upset you wouldn’t get to see him today again. And then you saw him. His expression as apathetic as ever, like he would rather get beat up than sit through this bullshit. His hair was soaking wet, small droplets of water still falling from the tips of his raven hair. Great, now the image of him in the shower was ingrained into your brain. As if you didn’t feel filthy enough.

You bit your lip softly, sitting up as he sat across from you, his expression blank with disinterest as his tattooed fingers played with the hem of his pink sweater. You weren’t paying attention either, you were more entertained by the way his long legs spread open as he slouched on his chair, taking as much space as possible. You thought about how nice it would be to sit on his lap. You glanced at his hands, they were huge. How easily he could grab a hold of your ass, or hold you still by your neck. How his long fingers would feel so deep inside you. You thought about how easily he was doing those pull ups, and you thought just how easily he could hold you down, throw you around to as he pleased with you. Truly, you would happily let him use you. You could feel heat rush to your face as you crossed your legs, trying your best to ignore the heat pooling between your legs. Why were you lusting so hard over him? You didn’t even know his name.

Almost as if he could hear your pounding heart, Eric looked up to find your eyes lingering on him, one leg crossed over the other tightly. He tilted his head with curiosity, and his fingers twitched around his sweatshirt as your eyes met. He didn’t feel like looking away this time. The longer his hooded eyes were on you, the more nervous you became. You could feel your breath hitch in your chest as his eyes burned you. You only looked away when the counselor said your name, followed by stares.

Shit, were you supposed to say something?

You opened your mouth, immediately closing it as you had nothing to say. You didn’t even hear the question. You pursed your lips and shook your head lightly. The counselor sighed softly and looked to the girl beside you instead. It was common for most people here to refrain from speaking so he didn’t think too much about it. But when your eyes found Eric again, there was a small hint of amusement in his eyes, a ghost of a grin tugging at his plush lips. For the first time since you’ve been here, you saw something other than disinterest on his face.

Perhaps he was just as drawn to you as you were to him.

~~~

You pulled your lips into a disappointed pout as you searched around the cafeteria for his black mullet, not being able to find him. And here you thought today would be the day you finally spoke to him. You were about to sit at the nearest empty table when you found him. Even sitting down he stood out. You smiled to yourself, your heart pounding in your chest with anticipation. You looked around for guards, none were paying particular attention to you so you did it.

He lifted his head slightly to glance at you, a quick second before his eyes were back on his plate. You saw the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. You smiled to yourself.

“I like your ink.” Were the first words out of your mouth. You said them in one breath, afraid he would get up and leave. His eyes lifted from his hands to meet yours, his eyes then fell to your own hands, one of them covered in distinct patterns and colors from your wrist up to your fingers. He wondered what else you were hiding under your sweater, like him.

“Hm.” He gave you a small nod, his plush lips pulled between his teeth in a way that had you clenching your thighs. “I like yours.”

You smiled, the first genuine one since you’ve gotten here.

“I have more.” You whispered, leaning close to him, like it was some secret only for his ears to hear. His eyes flickered with amusement and he gave you another hum, his eyes now looking everywhere they could in hope of finding said secrets.

“Me too.” His lips curved up the slightest bit as he lifted one of his sleeves up enough to reveal more tattoos going up his arm. Your eyes lit up as you excitedly leaned down closer with the excuse of getting a closer look. Your proximity was certainly way too close for this facility.

Leaning impossibly close to him without actually touching him, you looked up at him and with a playful smile you pulled down the collar of your sweatshirt to reveal more designs along your collarbone, the rest of the design hidden by your sweater as the colors continued down your shoulder.

“But don’t tell anyone.” You chewed on your bottom lip, trying to hide your smile. He gave you what sounded like a chuckle and he shrugged.

“Who would I tell?” Though his face remained expressionless, his eyes had a glint that mimicked your eagerness, he welcomed your proximity. “Here he comes.”

You were confused by his words and you opened your mouth to question him as he sat back, his head lifting in the direction behind your head.

“Males and females can’t sit together!” One of the guards, one you had noticed had a particular thing with Eric shouted, roughly grabbing the back of his chair to force him up on his feet.

“Huh? Wait, why are you taking him?” You talked back to the guard. “Hey, he didn’t do anything! I was the one that sat here. I—I’ll move. Don’t be such an asshole! Leave him alone!” You tried to help, even going as far as standing up but the guard was already taking the new owner of all of your attention away. Your heart sank as you watched the guard shout at him as he dragged him away.

He had managed to turn his head back for a second, and when your eyes met, he half smiled at you. He was almost proud of the fact that you tried to stand up for him. “I’m Eric!”

You smiled.

~~~~~~

“Found you.” You skipped into Eric’s room, finally seeing his door open.

You hadn’t seen him since you got him in trouble at their cafeteria the day before. You got in some trouble too. You had a one on one meeting with a counselor about your choice of words and your “temper” but it was nothing more than just a slap on the wrist. Truly, you felt worse about getting Eric in trouble more than anything. You didn’t mean to, you just wanted to talk to him. He must have gotten punished because you didn’t see him during gym hour. You leaned against the doorframe as he turned around to find you. Curiosity filled his otherwise empty eyes, and a glint of amusement replaced the usual apathy in his gaze.

“I never left.” He answered with a shrug as he shuffled through the mess that was made of his artwork. Sketch papers were scattered all over his room, torn off the walls. Perhaps after getting in trouble during lunch they used that as an excuse to go through his room.

“I’m sorry for getting you in trouble.” You expressed with genuine regret, shooting back a glance to the hallway before inviting yourself into his room. Much to the protest of the rational voice in your mind. You looked at the floor as you almost stepped on a piece of paper, you happily picked it up, admiring the black charcoal coating the page before you set it on his bed.

“Is that why you’re here? To apologize?” Eric asked almost cynically as he glanced over at you, not moving from where he stood.

“Well yeah. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.” You said sheepishly, a bit intimidated under his intense gaze. There was always a look of defiance in his green eyes, determination even. He gave you a sarcastic hum, which made you roll your eyes.

“Why did you yell at the guard? You got in trouble too, didn’t you?” He asked lowly, his head slightly tilted as he searched for that little thing you did around him, when you clenched your hands at your sides, or your thighs on your seat. His eyes irked with amusement when your fingers twitched at your sides and your lips parted open.

“‘Cause… You didn’t do anything wrong. You never do anything, or say anything. And everyone around here always pushes you around. It’s fucked up.” You answered quietly, daring to meet his eyes. He pulled his lips into a small pout and nodded slowly. His silence was always so nerve wracking to you.

“Yeah, so?”

You scrunched up your face, sighing heavily at his questioning. What did he what you to say? You didn’t know why you cared. You shrugged, picking up another piece of paper by your feet. You half glanced at it as you spoke.

“I dunno.. I just.. Oh my—” You cut yourself off as you gave the drawing in your hand a proper look. You narrowed your eyes, giving the drawing a closer look, and your jaw fell open. It looked like you, your hair falling over your face, dark scribbles covering your body symbolizing the unknown designs on your body, the only intelligible one being the patterns on your collarbone, the same one you had shown Eric. But what truly caught your eye was that you were in fact, completely nude. Truly, his imagination surprised you, he had imagined every curve of your body well, despite not having seen any part of it.

Based on your flustered expression, Eric could only assume which drawing you had picked up. He swallowed, his cheeks flushing pink being caught red handed. But he didn’t look apologetic, at all.

“This what you do in your spare time? Draw naked girls?” You asked with big eyes, the still working rational part of your mind screaming alarms, but a part of you also filled with excitement at his perverted mind. Almost as if you were on his mind as much as he was on yours.

He shook his head. “Just one.” He answered with a shrug, a challenging look in his eyes.

Either you walked out right then and there, and that would be that, or you would go all in. He was trying to figure out which one it would be.

“You are very talented, this is—” You dragged your tongue over your lip as you walked closer to him, catching glances at his other artwork. Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached him, his gaze making you shudder. He said nothing as you stooped in front of him, now having to tilt his head down to meet your gaze. God this man was so goddamn tall. “You could totally sell this for some money.”

“But,” you continued, swallowing hard as you looked up at him, and the way his green eyes looked at you made your mind all fuzzy. God, you haven't felt this euphoric since you got here. This rush of adrenaline made you dizzy, but you pushed through it. “I see one flaw in your creativity.”

“Oh?” He bit down on his plush lip, head tilted with curiosity. You hummed and nodded, daring to bring your fingers up his chest. His breath hitched in his chest, but he said nothing.

“I fear you don’t have the full picture. My tattoos are more than just a scribble of ink.” You stated matter of factly, making him breathe out a small laugh.

“Sorry. I work with what I have.” He shrugged his shoulders, trying to ignore the feeling of your hands itching up his chest.

“Maybe I should give you more to work with?” Your hands found the back of his neck and you instinctively stood on the ends of your toes, itching to get closer to him.

Eric glanced down at you, his eyes lingering on your own for a split second before glancing at your parted lips, soft breaths escaping you as you anxiously waited. He didn’t have to think about it, he didn’t want to. His mouth was on yours so hard you whined. His large hand found your hair, tilting your head back to meet your lips better.

You weren’t sure when you ended up against the nearest wall, your legs wrapped around Eric’s slim waist as he held you up. You were right, he could hold you up like you were nothing. Truly, the oversized clothes you were forced to wear didn’t do him any justice. You wondered what he was hiding under his sweatshirt.

His lips were messy on yours, his heavy breaths joining your soft whimpers. You were so caught up in the delicious feeling of his mouth claiming yours and his hands touching everywhere he could, you didn’t hear the loud voices of guards calling your name and patient number. Reality dawned on you when you heard shouting down the hall for everyone to get out of their rooms. You patted Eric’s shoulder, forcing your lips away from his.

“Eric—Eric.” You said his name with urgency, making him look at you, eyes filled with greed as he chased your lips. “I have to go. I don’t want to get you in trouble again.”

He nodded after a second, setting you down on your feet after pressing one last kiss to your lips. You had a stupid smile on your face as you successfully sneaked out his room, the guards being distracted as they probably ransacked some poor bastard's room like they had done Eric’s. You glanced behind you as you hurried down the hall, catching a glimpse of Eric peeking his head through his door. He smiled. And it made your heart race.

You could not wait to see him again.

~~~~~~

“Eric!—” You slapped your hand over your mouth, attempting to quiet the desperate sounds leaving your mouth. But the way his tongue lapped at your sensitive clit and his long fingers rubbed against that one spot within your walls that had you squirming.

You didn’t mean to end up in this position, ass naked on top of one of the washing machines in the laundry room, with Eric on his knees and his face between your thighs. Truly you didn’t, you knew you would be in a lot of fucking trouble if you got caught. But the way his lips claimed yours, his tongue lacing with yours, his large hands grabbing at every part of your body like he didn’t know which one he craved to touch more. He just wanted you so fucking bad, your kisses and little rubbing here and there for the past few days wasn’t enough for him, or for you.

“I wanted to taste you so fucking bad.” He muttered against your clit, a groan rumbling in his throat when you pulled at the hairs on the back of his head, inadvertently holding his face closer against you. Not that he minded, he would stay here, with his fingers scissoring you open until you dripped on the surface underneath you.

“Please—fuck. That feels so good.” You didn’t remember the last time someone made you feel this good. Not that you had much experience in this area, but this sure felt right.

Eric wrapped his free hand under your thigh, pulling you to the edge, closer to his mouth. He lapped at your pussy like he needed it, like it was the air in his lungs. The sounds leaving his mouth as your juices seeped around his fingers were almost as filthy as yours.

You felt like such a slut, chasing his mouth with your hips, heaving like a bitch in heat, and quietly begging him to grant you your release, as quiet as you could be with his fingers so deep and his tongue drawing delicious circles around your clit.

“Just like that baby… Just like that.” Eric mumbled, his fingers slipping and crooking against that perfect spot.

Your release was so sudden, and it hit you so hard you were shaking, sobbing violently into your hand. Your head was thrown back, eyes rolled into the back of your head. Eric dug his fingers into your thigh, his tongue slipping into your hole when his fingers left you.

“Shit—Eric—” You gasped, your thighs shaking as you weakly reached to grab his face.

With a grunt he peeled himself from the warmth of your thighs, he stood to his full height before leaning down to capture your lips. The taste of yourself lingering on his tongue made you moan. Disoriented, you reached down to rub where his cock was straining against his sweatpants. He groaned into your mouth, his large hand flew to catch your wrist.

“It’s okay.” He gave your lips a soft kiss as he pulled your hand away. You gave him an adorable frown, your mind still spinning from your orgasm.

“But you—” He pressed another kiss to your lips, shutting you up. He moved his lips to your neck, latching on to that one spot that had you whining. Neither of you cared if everyone saw the mark he left.

“We’ll have time for that.” He mumbled against your skin. The way he slurred the words made your breath hitch. “Right?”

He pulled back to meet your eyes, blinking slowly as he waited for your response. You licked your lips softly, breath soft as you thought, how could he still question it. You were past the lusting. This was something else. You needed more of him, and it wasn't just sex you were craving. You wanted every part of him, even the parts of himself he didn’t want.

“Of course.. This isn’t.. Can’t you tell? What you do to me. I’ve never..” You couldn’t even form the right words, your mind still fuzzy with all these feelings you had no name for. You didn’t need to explain. Whatever it was, Eric felt the same. And he smiled, he genuinely smiled. And what a pretty sight that was.

“We should go.” He pressed his lips to the side of your head, smoothing down your hair and fixing your sweater. “Can you stand?”

You half nodded, gasping when he set you down on your feet and you instantly leaned on him for support. The sly smile on his face made you want to slap him. But deep down, you wanted to smile too.

~~~~~

The next time you saw Eric, he was walking down the hallway, his tall frame towering over the majority of people he walked past. He wasn’t hard to find. You bit your lip, unable to contain your excitement as you hurried after him. Your fingers brushed his, and almost as if he knew your touch by heart, he wasn’t startled, he didn’t flinch either. When he turned his head, his eyes grew big at the sight of you, the corners of his lips curving into a tiny smile. You flashed him a whole smile, unapologetic about how happy it made you to see him. Your obsession with him over the past two weeks wasn’t something you could explain, you knew it probably wasn’t healthy. But when were you ever known for having healthy coping mechanisms? You found something that filled you and you clung to it.

“Where are you going?” You asked him quietly as you walked beside him. He walked slower, but didn’t look at you much, as not to bring unwanted attention to yourselves.

“Laundry room.” He said quietly, his eyes dropping to meet yours. And you shared that knowing and malicious look. You couldn’t hide the smile on your lips. This time of day usually meant you could sneak off for a little while since most patients were having their once a week visitor, or phone call, which meant less guards were in every corner.

“I’m supposed to be out in two weeks.” You told Eric in between kisses, his lips trailed your jaw as his hands grabbed at your ass.

“I’m out in four.” He answered as he pressed you against the nearest wall. He grabbed your face between his large hands, pulling you to meet his eager mouth. You whined, fists clenched around the front of his sweatshirt. You couldn’t go two weeks without seeing him, you would go fucking mad.

“I don’t want to wait a month to be with you.” You breathed out, your chest heavy as the words left your mouth. “I’m supposed to go back to my parents when I get out. They agreed to take me in to follow my treatment, but I don’t want to go. They’re the ones that put me here.”

“I don’t have anywhere to go.” You barely heard him as he spoke, almost as if the words pained him, broke something deep inside him. It broke something in you, too.

“You can come with me. I have a little place and some money saved. It’s not much but.. If you want.. We could.. We could try something for real?” You trailed off, afraid he would reject you. It was one thing to mess around in here, where neither of you had anything else, anyone else to cling to, but this being anything other than a desperate bond by two lost souls was a different story. Outside of these walls, he could find anyone else, he didn’t have to keep the broken girl he fingered in a shitty laundry room.

“I would like that. I would like something real, with you.” His words were soft, as were his hands holding your face as he pressed his forehead against yours. You breathed out a laugh of relief. “Fuck this place. We’ll do it tomorrow, during shift change. There’s a vent up here that leads to the yard.”

You pulled him down by his sweatshirt, your lips crashing against his. He laced his fingers in your hair as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You welcomed it, lips parting as you locked your arms around his neck.

“Eric.” You said his name softly in a quiet plea. He opened his eyes to find your desperate gaze. He told himself he wanted to be better, he knew you deserved better, but when you said his name like that, when you looked at him like that. He was no better. “I don’t think I can wait anymore. Please, I… I need…”

“Need what?” His words were coated with arousal, he knew fucking well what you meant. But he wanted to hear you say it.

“Fuck—” You kissed his lips roughly, any sanity and restraint you might’ve once had, completely. You can’t trust an addict to have good self-control, now could you? “Take me. I’m yours, just take me.”

“Fuck.” Now it was his turn to lose his sanity. He gave your lips one last kiss as he squeezed your cheeks between his fingers, licking your lips before he spun you around to face the wall. “You’re a sweet girl, don’t forget that. I swear I will fuck you properly on a bed, with flowers and shit.”

His words were rough in your ear as he pressed his lips to your jaw, his hands making quick work of pulling down your sweatpants and panties. They pooled around your ankles as he kicked your legs open as far as they went.

“I like carnations.” You gasped as the cool air hit your exposed cunt. You heard him chuckle beside your ear.

“Those are pretty. They’re pretty like you.” He hummed as he brought two fingers up to your lips. You happily took them in your mouth. Eric almost moaned at the sight. One of these days he needed to have you sucking his cock. One of these days.

Eric pulled his fingers from your lips and with a kiss to the back of your head, he sunk his coated fingers into your hole. Your mouth fell open, your forehead falling against the wall. You were instantly chasing his fingers, soft whimpers leaving your lips as you happily rode them. You didn’t know how he did it, how he could have you dripping around his fingers in a matter of a minute or two. You were clawing at the wall, silent moans spilling from you when he pulled his fingers from you. He watched almost proudly as your slick coated your thighs.

“Can I take this off?” He asked quietly, tugging at the hem of your sweater. You made a humming sound, as best as you could. As if he needed to ask. Eric was happy to rid you of your sweater, more happy to find more hidden tattoos going all over both of your arms. He craved to find every single one of your tattoos, and kiss every one. But he knew it would be best to be quick.

His own sweatshirt met the same fate, and with a kiss to your cheek, he grabbed one of your hips as he pulled down his sweats enough to free his cock. A groan left his lips as he dragged his cock between your folds, coating himself in your slick. You gasped, not being able to see him, but already knowing he was big.

“Let me know if it hurts, hm? I’ll take it easy, I promise.” He pressed his lips to your jaw, inhaling your sweet scent as he slowly sank himself into you. Only his tip was in and you could already feel the sting of his cock stretching you wide open.

“Fuck. Fuck, oh my god—” You squeezed your eyes shut, fingers clenching around nothing as he slowly filled your further, inch by inch.

“It’s okay. You want me to stop?” He asked, shushing you softly as he sat still, allowing you to adjust to the burning feeling of his size. Fuck, you should have known someone as tall as him would be this big. Somehow, it didn’t occur to you.

“No. ‘m okay. Keep going.” You reached behind you to touch him, your fingers gracing over the side of his face. He nodded into your neck, one of his hands sneaking to the front of you to play with your clit to ease you as he sank into you until his hips rutted against your ass. He sat still, speaking filthy words into your ear until you were whimpering, needing to feel more. “Eric, please.”

You didn’t need to tell him twice. His pace was slow at first, slow strokes that allowed you to revel in the feeling of his cock in and out of your walls. But as you both began to grow desperate, pathetic sounds leaving your lips and groans of pleasure leaving him, his pace picked up. It was grueling, how he fucked you against that wall. You braced yourself with one hand, the other holding his face behind you as he leaned his head to capture your parted lips into a messy kiss. He swallowed your sweet sounds as the sting of his cock had you squeezing the life out of him.

“Fuck, I have been dreaming about this since I saw you. You always looked so pretty when you looked at me.” He whispered in your ear, his hand wrapping around your hair as he forced your head back, exposing your neck. You cried out, his roughness making you clench around him. He cursed, covering your mouth with his large hand. “I need you to keep it down for me, baby. You don’t want us to get caught, do you?”

You shook your head, doing your best to contain the sounds he was pulling from you. His hand slowly left your mouth, trusting you could keep your sounds to a minimum. You bit down on your lip, eyes squeezed shut as his cock split you open. You swore you had never been this utterly fucked out, so cock drunk before. You had never needed anyone so badly. You had never felt so strongly about anyone. You had always found something to cling to, pain, tattoos, in your more miserable and recent years—drugs, and now him. But him? This feeling he gave you, it was like nothing you had ever felt before. You wanted to hold on to him until your final breath of air left your lungs.

“I wanted this—you—so fucking bad. I needed to have you.” Eric grunted, lips latching on to that spot on your neck where the previous hickey he had left was starting to fade. “I’m so crazy about you, no amount of rehab could fix me.”

You moaned at his words, letting them sink in. He was down so bad for you, probably as much as you were. Two addicts, seeking refuge in each other, craving this adrenaline, it was a kick you had never felt before. It was a kick only lust and passion could bring. And he ignited that deep within your soul.

“Me too.” You panted, lips parting in ecstasy as one of his tattooed hands loosely wrapped around your throat. Fuck, the way his whole hand covered your entire neck made you gush all over his cock. “I’ve never wanted anyone this bad. You—ah!—I need you all the fucking time.”

“Then you can have me,” His fingers squeezed your throat tighter, his thick cock so deep you swore you could feel him in your fucking cervix. “All the fucking time. Forever.”

Tears filled your ears as you could feel your release near, your thighs shuddering as you felt your legs start to give out. Eric was quick to press you further against the wall, his back flush against your chest, sweaty forehead pressed against your cheek as his cock rutted against you, over and over, until you were chanting a string of uh-uh-uh’s, your mind too overcome with the pleasure he was giving you to even speak.

“I want you to come on my cock so fucking bad. I need it.” Groans fell freely from his chest as he once again slipped a hand to your swollen clit. The pressure of his rough fingers made you gasp, your throat closing under his grip. Your release hit you so hard you were sobbing, though mostly muffled by his tight grip. Tears fell down your cheek as your orgasm left you a shaking mess. You had never felt this way before—so overcome with pleasure you cried.

“Shh, it’s okay baby. Good girl.” The hand on your throat left to wipe at your tears, soothing you as you came crashing down.

Eric fucked you through your release, frantically chasing his own. His name left your lips with praise, sobs of your remnant pleasure as he pushed you to the point of overstimulation. But it wasn’t until he felt his own release near that he pulled out of you. Without saying a word, he grabbed one of your hands and wrapped it around his thick cock, his own hand guiding yours up and down his slick length, sweet praises leaving his lips until he was spilling himself.

Heavy breaths and pants of exhaustion filled the small laundry room, the air smelled like sex, and the remnants of your forbidden times were left as evidence. Eric eventually spun you around to face him, a soft smile on his lips. You had only ever seen it once, after he ate you out days ago. It was rare to see Eric smile, but you made it a vow to yourself that you would always make him smile like this.

“How fucked up are we? Finding comfort in each other like this. Did it ever cross your mind?” You said softly as Eric helped you dress. He was bending down to grab your sweater and he stood up to his full height, towering over you, and his eyes were laced with an indescribable feeling.

“When I first saw you, I didn’t know what it was, but I was so drawn to you, I looked for you everyday, and I thought I would go mad if I didn’t have you. And right now, I can tell you it’s not just lust. I’m entranced by you, I need you all the time. And if there’s one thing I learned from this fucking place is that you have to latch on to something, otherwise you’ll drown.”

You were speechless, nothing but your soft breaths could be heard. A smile fell on your lips and you leaned into his chest. Eric sighed softly, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close to his chest, he’d be damn if he ever let you go anywhere but here.

“Addicts will be addicts, no matter how much they try to fix us. But it’s not always to drugs we’re addicted to.” You sighed softly, closing your eyes as you sank into the feeling of his arms. “This feeling? I never want it to stop.”

“It doesn’t have to.” He mumbled into your hair, in his head reminding himself of your limited time, but he refused to let you go just yet. “Forever, right?”

“Yeah, forever.”

#eric draven x reader #eric draven smut #eric draven 2024 #Eric Draven #the crow 2024 #the crow

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eternalsunrise · 6 months ago

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home, sweet home.

wolverine (logan howlett) x f!reader

wc: 980 (drabble)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

god it was good to be home.

#deadpool and wolverine #wolverine x reader #x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #wolverine #marvel fic #hugh jackman x reader #logan howlett #x men #x men x reader

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yanderenightmare · 7 months ago

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TW: yandere, domestic violence, abuse, suicidal ideations, suicide attempts, accidental murder, death

gn reader

You should have never fallen in love with someone so brash, but you like seeing the good in people much to the abuse of your own. Still, rough around the edges as he was, you’d never thought he’d become such a monster.

The first time he slapped you, you were so shocked you’d ended up the one who apologized—all the way convinced you must have deserved it. And ever since then, you’ve only accumulated more bruises in areas you can’t explain.

You’re in the bathroom now. The door’s locked, but you don’t think it’ll keep him out for long.

“Open the door, babe—I didn’t mean it.”

You don’t even know if he has himself convinced of that or if he’s just saying it to soothe you. Either way, it doesn’t change the fact that your wrist and rib are broken. You’re so terrified you think you might end up dying from the fear alone, sitting in the bathtub just waiting for the inevitable.

You don’t have a phone—it was taken when an old boyfriend had texted. You’d share his from then on, he said—better that way so he can keep track of you. It’s strange, but somehow, you believed it was rather romantic.

You were going to leave this time. It would be so simple. He was at work, and you’d just leave everything and walk right out the door. But there was an incident at the office which made him come home early only to catch you red-handed heading out the door you know you’re not supposed to open without him.

You’d been so panicked you’d tried running—but there was really no chance. His arms caught you hard, and the floor he threw you back on met you even harder—hence the snapped bones.

Still, you’d managed to scramble to the bathroom with just enough time to lock it behind you.

And now you were left all out of options.

“Open the door, we’ll talk. Maybe I misunderstood.” His voice had calmed down now. He’d been at it for a while—he sounded more airy, teetering on frantic, and it only served to scare you even more. “I know it can get pretty cramped in ‘ere all alone. Maybe you were just getting some fresh air, is all?” He left the question a couple of seconds worth of breath before sending his fist into the door. “Come on, answer me!”

You were sobbing. He might actually kill you this time. God knows you’ve thought he would other times with both his hands wrapped tight around your throat, stringing you up, making you lose voice for days.

You thought about it—the razor blades in the drawer. It seemed like the only option left. Better you than him, right? He’d make it painful. Or worse, he might not go through with it at all, and you’d be stuck living with him forever.

That really did seem worse than death, you thought, sitting on the floor while holding the shiny metal piece to your wrist. Which way was best to cut again? Right. It’ll be quick, and then it’ll be over.

You don’t even hear the door breaking down before he’s on you. You don’t even realize you’ve cut before you see the red. You don’t even know whose blood it is before he gags on it—before it splutters from his mouth upon your face and the slice on his neck splits upon and gushes out like a waterfall all over your clothes.

He drops to the floor with a heavy thud a moment later.

The blood is so warm you don’t even understand how he’s dead.

You even think about stopping the bleeding for a moment, but then it suddenly settles. And then along, shortly after, the understanding that you’d killed him.

The razor hits the bloody tiles with no sound—it’s all so thick it splats before sinking, disappearing slowly. You swallow once, but you’re throat is all but dry. Even the tears had stopped in the shock.

You spot the phone on the floor, having slid from his pocket—moments away from drowning in the blood that seems to just continue seeping and spreading forever. Something within you grabs it before it can.

“Nine-one-one. What is your emergency?”

“Hi! Uhm… I’ve just killed my boyfriend.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Dabi, Hawks, Enji, Aizawa ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Naoya, Toji ♡ DS – Akaza, Inosuke, Sanemi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

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247-diaperboy · 14 days ago

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Diapered Team Captain

He thought an innocent picture on a random site would keep him safe that no one would find out. Unfortunately for 18 year old Kevin when he went to school the next day to get ready for baseball practice he would find himself in a very different situation.

Kevin had ruled the team and was very strict and very forceful, he had forced several team members out for not performing up to par. He wanted the team to win big his last year in high school. In most cases he was considered a jerk to many and today was the day that they were all going to take him down a peg.

So now almost a very minute Kevin walked into the changing room to meet his team was he jumped, but before he could even say anything a gag was shoved in his mouth and tied around his head. He felt a large nipple fill his mouth and realized that the gag was just a giant pacifier and he really had no choice but to suck on it.

He then saw a lot of the other guys cheering and laughing, he knew then that this all had been planned then a thought crossed his mind about the picture that he posted last night. He realized that obviously someone on the team found it and now they were all going to come after him. Kevin did his best to try to fight the other guy’s off of him but with no luck.

“You know so many of us thought of you as a tough guy, all of us were too worried to even challenge you. But that’ cute picture you posted shows us that you’re just a little boy and it’s time for you to learn how to be a good boy” Paul Kevin’s second on the team and former best friend stated holding up his phone to show off the picture.

All Kevin could do was whimper around the pacifier as the guys that were holding him began to strip him of his clothes. For the last few months Kevin had always worn his practice shorts underneath his regular jeans and now the secret that laid underneath was going to be revealed. His button-up shirt and undershirt were ripped away, his jeans followed suit leaving him just in his shorts which were also ripped away.

The guys froze for only a second or two before they all started laughing. You underwear that Kevin was wearing looked like little kids training pants with police cars and fire engines on them. They were very thick and to the looks of them damp. Kevin had started wearing these in secret, it helped give him comfort, this only proved that he wasn’t a big man but very much a little boy in need of being taken care of.

I guess little Kevin has been having some accidents, and by the looks of it your training pants need to be replaced with a proper diaper” Paul stated looking at the obvious wet patch on the training pants

Kevin was fully picked up then and taken to the shower stalls and there he saw a couple of the guys that he kicked off the team just a couple weeks ago standing there in just their boxers holding would look like shaving cream and a razor. Kevin tried his best using everything he had to get out of the situation he knew what was coming.

But it was useless he wasn’t strong enough to break away then he felt his training pants get removed, then received a hard smack to his bottom. He looked to see that Paul had taken off his belt and was going to use it to fully punish Kevin like the little boy they now realize he is.

Kevin moans trying to say something anything to make it all stop, but it’s no use Kevin has smacked a few more times with the belt and laid over Paul’s knee naked. Kevin was already in tears but not from the spanking but by the utter humiliation of what he was suffering through.

“Bad little boys who don’t share get spankings like you’re getting right now Kevin” Paul stated spanking Kevin’s bottom between every word.

“this is also what bad little boys get for wetting their training pants, you obviously are far from the 18-year-old man you’re supposed to be but we will change that everyone out on the field will see it too” Paul continued until Kevin fell limp sobbing in pain.

Kevin had no time to register or ask what he meant by “everyone on the field” he was in just too much pain. Now that Kevin was submitting to what was happening to him Paul stood him up and with the help of a few of the ex members of the team they began shaving all of his body hair off. Kevin cried and sobbed with every part of it as he was completely left hairless as a newborn. It’s also revealed to all the guys how small of a manhood Kevin actually had and they just giggled.

“Very good little Kevin nice and smooth like the little boy you are, now I think it’s time for us to talk about your accident. You see you can’t be a big boy and have the accidents like you just did. Those training pants are ruined and think if you accidentally made a poo poo in them” Paul said speaking to Kevin like he was a little kid.

“So me and the rest of the team have decided that the best thing for you is to be put back in a diaper until you’re ready to be a big boy and learn how to use the toilet but that’s probably a long way away”.

Kevin wanted to fight again but the very way Paul was talking to him and even bringing up a proper diaper just made Kevin hard. His now hairless manhood stood completely upright proving how badly he wanted this treatment and that diaper.

“Look everyone looks like baby Kevin does want his diaper!” A couple of guys called out.

Everyone laughed knowing this was exactly what Kevin deserved since he obviously wasn’t a man like they were. Kevin was led back to other lockers were he saw a changing mat laid out with a very thick very babyish diaper was waiting for him.

To Kevin’s surprise the gag around his mouth was undone and removed but he was still told not to speak. “Now that we have made sure to punish you and remove your big boy hair we want you to do one thing and say that you want your diaper” Paul stated.

Kevin looked at Paul and everyone else in the room but instead of trying to run away he just froze and Paul continued. “We have established that you are just a little boy, you wet your training pants and your baby weiner is hard from the very thought of wearing that diaper. Now admit it or you’ll be spanked until you do”.

Kevin turned back around looked down at the plastic changing mat but more so the diaper, he had seen those diapers online and fully wondered what it would feel like to be put in a diaper again a real diaper. Somewhere beyond the humiliation and his pride all he wanted was to really wear that diaper but more importantly be put into it like the baby boy he wanted to be deep down.

“I’m ready to be a good baby boy and wear my diaper” Kevin stuttered out sounding almost like a real little boy.

“Why do you need your diaper Kevin?” One of the guys who shaved him asked.

“Cuz I wet my training pants and I’m not a big boy like all of you” Kevin lisped out sounding every bit as a 3 year old but the team wanted him to be.

There was more laughter but most of all there was acceptance and they knew full well that they brought Kevin their former team captain all the way down. Without any further hesitation Kevin laid on the mat no longer covering his soon to be diapered weiner, as Paul slipped The pacifier this time without the gag part back into his mouth.

Kevin let the process happen as Paul lifted Kevin’s legs by the ankles like you would do a real baby and the diaper was slid underneath him, when his sore bottom touched the diaper, he just felt more excited. Baby powder was heavily sprinkled over Kevin’s soon to be diapered area and the diaper was closed. Kevin didn’t care about the eyes on him he just felt like he was in heaven.

Kevin was completely lost in the feel of a diaper the smell of the baby powder, he felt like a real baby, a real baby boy something he truly wanted to always be. Yes his team had taken away his manhood and his ability to run the team the way he wanted to, but they gave him something better in return.

Most of the team had dispersed realizing that this really wasn’t a true punishment for their captain, but also they gave him something he was missing. The few guys that remained finished getting ready for practice leaving Kevin happily laying on the changing mat enjoying his diaper and sucking away on the pacifier.

Paul just looked at the big baby with a big smile, Kevin was now fully a baby. Now it was time to show everyone at the school and Kevin’s family exactly what he was…

#diaper community #diapered boy #fiction #24/7diapers #diaper regression

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mapis-putellas · 16 days ago

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𝑺𝒊𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒓𝒆/𝑨.𝑷𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒔

The soft chime of the bell over your studio door broke the quiet as Alexia walked in, her familiar silhouette instantly drawing your attention. She wore a loose black hoodie and gray sweatpants, her hair tied back in a messy bun. Her eyes found yours, and the faintest smile tugged at her lips as she made her way toward you.

“Hola, cariño,” she greeted, her voice low and warm as she leaned over the counter to kiss your cheek.

“Hi, baby,” you replied, smiling as you wiped your hands on a towel. You’d just finished reorganizing your supplies for the third time that morning, nerves settling into something calmer now that she was here.

Alexia leaned her elbows on the counter, her green eyes roaming the space as if she hadn’t been here a hundred times before. “Estás ocupada?”

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head. “I kept my morning free since you said you were coming.”

She gave you a small, grateful smile and nodded. “Bien. I want… un tatuaje nuevo,” she said, shifting a little in place.

“Oh, yeah?” you teased, tilting your head at her as you stepped out from behind the counter. “What do you want this time, captain?”

She held your gaze for a moment before tugging her hoodie up just enough to expose her ribs on her left side. Her skin was smooth and tan, and your fingers instinctively reached out to touch her as she traced the spot with her own hand. “Aquí,” she said softly. “Quiero… ‘Siempre.’ In your writing.”

Your brows lifted slightly at her choice, and a small smile tugged at your lips. “Siempre?” you repeated, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. You didn’t need to ask why—both of you said it all the time. It was your word, your promise to each other.

Alexia nodded as she subconsciously leaned into your touch, eyes soft as they searched yours. “Sí. Para ti.”

Heat crept into your cheeks, and you cleared your throat as you gestured toward the back. “Alright, let’s get you set up then.”

Alexia followed you without hesitation, her presence filling the small space of your private studio. She was familiar with the routine by now, sitting down in the tattoo chair as you washed your hands and began to gather your supplies.

“Are you sure you want it on your ribs?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at her. “It’s gonna hurt.”

She smirked, leaning back in the chair with an air of confidence. “Puedo manejarlo,” she said, her tone teasing.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile. “Alright, tough girl. Don’t come crying to me later.”

Alexia chuckled softly, pulling her hoodie off and setting it aside. The tattoos scattered across her arms and back were on full display now, each one carrying its own story. You loved tracing them with your fingers late at night, listening to her whisper their meanings in Spanish while your head rested on her chest.

“Relax,” you told her gently as you approached, marker in hand. You set it down for just a second before picking up some green soap and a razor to remove the minuscule hairs from her skin. “Sit back, lift your arm a bit.” You direct.

She obeyed, her lean, athletic frame shifting slightly to give you access to the area. Once you’d made quick but careful work of removing the hairs, you once again grab the marker. Your eyes focused as you leaned in, your fingers steady as you wrote out the tattoo in your utmost best writing.

“Perfect,” you murmured, leaning back to inspect your work. “Take a look and let me know what you think.”

Alexia craned her neck to see the small outline you’d drawn on her ribs. She nodded once, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Me gusta.”

“Good,” you said, setting the marker aside as you rise to your feet to wash your hands again. Once clean, you slip on a pair of latex gloves and reach for the tattoo gun as you sit back down. You glanced up at her, your tone turning playful. “Now, remember the deal. No pouting about payment.”

Alexia’s lips twitched, and she rested her head back against the chair, watching you with amused eyes. “Besos?”

“Besos,” you confirmed with a grin. “That’s all I’ll accept.”

Alexia laughed, the sound low and warm as it filled the space. “Eres terca,” she murmured, though there was no bite to her words.

“And you love me for it,” you shot back, your voice light as you prepped the machine.

She didn’t argue, simply tilting her head slightly as she watched you work. “Sí, siempre.”

You glanced up at her then, your chest tightening at the soft sincerity in her tone. “Siempre,” you echoed, smiling before turning your focus back to the task at hand.

The low hum of the tattoo machine filled the room as you carefully began the design. Alexia sat still, her expression relaxed save for the occasional furrow of her brow when the needle hit a particularly sensitive spot.

“You okay?” you asked after a few minutes, glancing up to check on her.

Her lips twitched into a small smirk. “Told you… puedo manejarlo,” she assured.

You rolled your eyes with a laugh. “Alright, Miss Tough Girl.”

As you worked, the two of you fell into an easy rhythm of conversation. Alexia told you about her last match you hadn’t been able to attend, how her teammates had teased her for accidentally kicking the ball out of bounds. You shared a funny story about one of your clients, who had nearly fainted halfway through their tattoo because they’d insisted they could handle the pain.

“Es como Mapi,” Alexia said with a laugh, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “She acts… so fuerte, but when she got her back tattoo, she cried.”

You snorted, shaking your head as you dipped the needle back into the ink. “I’ll have to remind her of that next time she teases me.” You grumbled as you pulled her skin taut with the hand that was also holding the kitchen towel you were using to wipe away the excess ink.

Alexia grinned, her gaze softening as she watched you. “You’re… muy linda when you work,” she said quietly.

Your cheeks flushed, and you ducked your head slightly, focusing on the tattoo to hide your reaction. “You’re just saying that.”

“No,” she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Es verdad.”

You glanced up at her, your heart fluttering at the earnest look in her eyes. “You’re distracting me, baby,” you murmured.

Alexia smirked, leaning her head back again with a satisfied expression. “Good.”

The rest of the session passed in comfortable silence, save for the occasional hum of the machine and Alexia’s soft breathing. When you finally finished, you sat back with a sigh of relief, inspecting your work.

“All done, go take a look.” You said, setting the machine aside and pulling off your gloves.

Alexia sat up slowly before easing herself off of the chair, making her way over to the mirror sat just to the left of her. Her hand immediately goes to her side as she twisted to get a better look, eyes lighting up as she took in the delicate lettering etched into her skin.

“Es perfecto,” she said softly, her fingers brushing over the fresh tattoo.

You smiled, leaning against the counter as you watched her. “I’m glad you like it.”

After a few quiet moments, you spoke again.

“Alright, baby, sit back down,” you said, gesturing toward the chair. “I need to wrap it up so you don’t mess it up before you can show it off.”

She chuckled, obeying without protest, though her gaze never left you. “Eres la mejor,” she murmured.

“Oh, I know I am,” you teased, carefully cleaning the tattoo with madacide.

She smirked. “Dork.” she said, her tone playful.

Shaking your head with a small laugh, you reached for the plastic wrap to cover the area. “Well, I could start charging you, you know. Some people pay me a fortune for this.”

Her lips twitched into a knowing smile. “Mis besos son suficientes,” she replied, leaning her head back against the chair.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue, securing the wrap carefully over her ribs with some medical tape. “There,” you said, leaning back to inspect your work. “Now you can go and show it off to Mapi and make her jealous.”

Alexia grinned as she pulled her hoodie back over her head, sitting up straight and turning in place so her legs hung over the side of the chair. “Tu besos,” she murmured softly, her hands finding the belt loops of your jeans and tugging you closer.

“You’re very persistent, you know that?” you said as you come to step between her legs, though the corners of your lips twitched as you fought a smile.

“Siempre,” she replied. Her arms wrap around your thighs, just beneath your behind, and pulled you so your chest was flush against her own.

Before you could say anything else, her lips were on yours, soft and warm. She kissed you slowly, deeply, her hands sliding up to your waist to hold you in place. You sighed against her mouth, your hands coming up to rest lightly on each of her cheeks as her tongue grazes the roof of your mouth.

When she finally pulled back, your cheeks were flushed, and you were certain your legs felt a little weaker than before. Alexia smirked at you, clearly pleased with herself, and pressed a final kiss to the corner of your mouth as she pats your ass a couple times.

“Payment complete,” she murmured, her voice tinged with amusement.

You huffed out a laugh, stepping back to give yourself a moment to recover. “Alright, get out of here before I change my mind and start charging you for real.”

Alexia chuckled, standing and stretching her arms above her head. “Gracias, mi amor,” she said softly, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before grabbing her bag.

You followed her to the front of the studio, watching as she pulled her hoodie tighter around herself and adjusted her bag strap.

“Te veré más tarde,” she murmured, lips quirked up into a tender smile.

“See you later, baby,” you replied, leaning up to press a quick kiss to her cheek before she walked out the door.

Once she was gone, you shook your head fondly and went back to cleaning up the studio, humming softly to yourself as you worked. It wasn’t until later, when you checked your phone, that you noticed a new notification from your bank.

You opened it and immediately groaned when you saw the familiar four-figure amount Alexia had transferred to your account, listed under a memo that simply read, Gracias, bebé.

“Alexia Putellas Segura,” you muttered under your breath, shaking your head as a smile tugged at your lips.

You’d told her time and time again not to pay you, but she never listened. She might have been stubborn, but so were you, and you made a mental note to bring it up again the next time you saw her—right after kissing her senseless to thank her for always showing how much she cared, even when she didn’t have to.

@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @chelseacult

#alexia putellas x you #soft alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso community #woso x reader #woso appreciation #woso imagine #fluff #woso fanfics #woso one shot

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cutehoons02 · 20 days ago

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Run through my heart

*pairing: illegal racer driver Jungwon x good Girl

*trope: frat/bad boy x good girl

*synopsis: Jungwon at only 20 is in the top 5 of the state for being one of the drivers of illegal races all over Korea but what would happen when your best friend and Jungwon’s best friend’s girlfriend invited you to see an illegal race? Jungwon is totally the opposite of your ideal boyfriend but with his bad boy charm but also gentlamen vibes you will be able to not fall for his charm?

*tags: A lot of humor,fluffy,jungwon loves to flirt with girls especially with the protagonist, pervy Jungwon, both the protagonist and jungwon love to tease each other, masturbation (f. receives it in public) fingering, pussy drinking,unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl)+18,pet names (good girl,princess) (wildcat)

(English is not my native language)

10.5k (🐈)

💌The request and ideas were written by @jayjw16enxp for this story (thanks a lot for your help)

The smell of burnt tires permeated the cold night air, mixing with the metallic scent of petrol. The headlights of the illuminated cars created light games that made the road look like a movie scene. You were standing next to your best friend, hands crossed on your chest in your padded leather jacket, You were grumpy since your best friend in the car had told you that for that night you would not go to Karaoke and eat fried chicken but to see Jay’s bff running and you had a skeptical look on cars in line.

"I don’t know why I came," you muttered, watching Jay waving animatedly with a group of guys near a black Nissan Skyline. "The underground races? Seriously? This is the height of your genius?" you told your best friend.

Your best friend laughed, settling down next to Jay. 'Come on, relax! It’s just a different evening, try to have some fun!, you’re here with Jay and me, nothing will happen to you, and in less than two hours you’ll be in your warm bed thinking about the adrenaline that you’ve experienced, trust me for once, Y/n'

"Having fun? Getting into trouble? Great idea. If someone from the press studio finds out my scholarship will disappear instantly, I’ll ask for financial damages to your boyfriend full of money." You shook your head, adjusting your hair behind an ear for the nervous. You were about to make more biting jokes when a soft, vaguely amusing voice interrupted his thoughts.

«You don’t seem like the type of place. Who did you take Jay to see an illegal race? The little mouse in the library?»

You snatched him up, and you saw him Jungwon. His eyes were sharp as razor blades, his smile bold and just curved his lips. He wore a leather jacket that reflected the lights of the headlights and leaned with ease to a shiny black car, probably his own a car that looked fast even when it was stationary.

You were caught off guard by her presence for a moment. "I am not," you replied, crossing your arms. "And apparently, you don’t seem like the type to... break the law either."

Jungwon laughed, a low and slightly dangerous sound. «It’s up to someone to add a little adrenaline to these monotonous lives, otherwise you know how boring life would be without a bit of a kick.» He pulled away from the car and approached you slowly, with the cat’s step of who knows exactly what effect it has. «And then, it is not so bad, right? Look at this crowd, the energy. Aren’t you a little curious to feel your blood pumping much stronger inside you especially your body to make you feel the sensation of adrenaline, of the anxiety and fear of being discovered in such a place where surely good girls like you should not be?»

"Not enough to put my life on the line for a four-wheeled ego race or to risk my money on a guy who’s gonna be even smaller than me," you said, clenching your lips.

Your words, however, did not shake him at all. He seemed to enjoy himself even more. He leaned slightly towards you, his eyes as bright as those of a cat having fun with its prey. «Interesting,» he said quietly. «Usually people either fear me or admire me. You, on the other hand... You’re a beautiful mystery, who would have thought that the good girl had such a sharp temper.»

You raised an eyebrow, determined not to be intimidated. "Maybe because I’m not interested in impressing a guy who thinks he’s a hero just 'cause he can drive fast'."

Jungwon stepped back, raising his hands in surrender, but the smile never left his face. «Touché. But don’t underestimate the speed. It’s a feeling that changes you and makes you feel alive. Maybe you should try it at least once.»

"It will never happen," you replied

«Never say» he muttered with a small smile before a voice called his name in the distance. He turned, gazing at the crowd, then looked back at you. «Hold on to your skepticism, 'good girl'. Who knows, maybe one day you’ll change your mind.»

And with that phrase and a smile full of arrogance, Jungwon walked away, leaving you with a mixture of irritation and something more difficult to define. Something that made you feel a shiver down your back, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

"God, it’s unbearable," you mumbled between your teeth as your best friend burst out laughing next to you.

'Unbearable, of course,' said your friend, giving you an elbow. 'But admit it, he has left you speechless. Both because he knows his stuff but also because he is crazy hot with that bad boy aura but at the same time with those cat eyes that look at you attentively as if you were his next prey'

You’re sunburned, your cheeks are starting to pinch. "Don’t even joke about it."

But in your stomach, a spark had been lit, and you weren’t sure that you could put it out so easily.

The roar of the engines was ringing in the air, covering up any conversation. You watched with wide eyes the cars lined up next to each other, ready to snatch like wild beasts. The headlights lit up the asphalt, and for a moment everything seemed to be still, as if night held its breath.

Jay was standing next to you, his arm resting protectively on your shoulders and his girlfriend’s. <<Relax,>> he said, a reassuring smile on his lips. <<It’s all under control. No one will touch you.>>

"I’m not worried about myself," you mumbled, even though it wasn’t entirely true. You felt like a fish out of water, but there was something in the atmosphere, the electric energy of the crowd, the roar of cars, the tension before the shot that made your heart beat a little faster. Maybe it was fear, or maybe... excitement...that was the feeling Jungwon described earlier?

The deafening music that had flooded the road until a few minutes earlier suddenly ceased, leaving only room for the roar of the engines. All eyes were on the racers. Cameras and phones stood up, ready to capture the start of the race. Jungwon was in the front row, his face calm and focused as he held the wheel.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him. There was something hypnotic about him: that arrogant ease, the confidence in his movements. It was as if the adrenaline ran through his veins instead of blood. He didn’t even seem nervous.

<< So, what do you think? > asked Jay, lowering his voice so that only you could hear him.

"What?" you replied, trying to mask the disturbance.

<<About him. Jungwon. He’s good, isn’t he? >

You shrugged your shoulders, trying to look indifferent. "I don’t know yet. He has to prove it."

Jay laughed, shaking his head. <<You’ll see.>>

The air vibrated when the start signal blinked. The cars sprinted forward with a deafening roar, the tires leaving black tracks on the asphalt. You held your breath as you watched Jungwon take the lead immediately, zigzagging through the corners with impressive precision.

The track was an urban course, full of tight curves and straight lines that tested the skills of each driver. Jungwon steered with almost inhuman ease, cutting corners to the millimeter without ever losing speed.

<< Look how he enters the curve,>> said Jay enthusiastically. << No one drives like him. He is not afraid of anything.>>

You watched him, fascinated, the other cars tried to keep up with him, but nobody could keep up. It was as if the machine were an extension of his body, and he knew exactly how to push it to its limits without ever losing control.

After two laps, it was clear that he would win. No matter how much others tried to get over him, Jungwon was always one step ahead, calculating every move with surgical precision. When he crossed the finish line first, the crowd burst into a roar of exultation.

Jay clapped loudly, pulling you and his girlfriend into a hug. <<I told you!>> he exclaimed, laughing.

You were very quick. "He’s good, I admit. But he’s too young for all this. It’s ridiculous to think he could be so good, he just turned 20."

«It’s not ridiculous,» said a voice behind you.

You turned and there he was, Jungwon, still with his helmet in hand and the arrogant smile that lit up his face. He looked triumphant, but in his eyes, there was a challenge.

«I’m twenty, not ten», he continued, leaning nonchalantly against a parked car. «And it doesn’t matter how old you are when you’re the best.»

You crossed your arms and smiled shamelessly. "The best? In your head, maybe. People talk, you know? Not everyone is so convinced of your abilities."

Jungwon laughed a low and funny sound. «Let them talk. The numbers don’t lie, i'm in the top 5 of the state racers. And trust me, it wasn’t easy to get there.»

"If you say so," you replied, trying to ignore the shiver that had passed through your back as you looked into his eyes.

«You must not believe me,» he said, taking a step closer. «But sooner or later you will understand. Speed is not just about money or perfect cars, it’s about the heart.»

The evening seemed almost quiet. You were sitting on an old wooden stool, holding in your hands a mojito that was melting too fast. Your best friend, laughing next to you as Jay strutted in the distance, probably telling someone how good Jungwon was.

'It’s not so bad, isn’t it?' said your bf, giving you a slight push on the shoulder.

"It still doesn’t convince me," you replied, sipping your drink. "Too much confusion, too many people... Not my world."

Your bf laughed. 'I know, but sometimes you have to try new things. Maybe there’s something here that...'

The girl’s words were interrupted by a sudden and deafening noise. Screams, immediately followed by the unmistakable sound of police sirens. The crowd exploded into a chaos of excited voices, bodies pushing and shoes pounding on the asphalt.

You got stuck, your heart was pounding. "What’s going on?"

'The cops, they’re here!' shouted someone, and the crowd began to scatter in all directions.

You looked around, lost, looking for your bff with your eyes, but before you could understand what to do you felt a strong hand holding your arm. You turned around and found Jungwon staring at you with a serious, almost impatient expression.

«You,» he said, bowing without waiting for an answer. «Come with me.»

"What-? Wait! No!" you tried to protest, but he didn’t give you the time. He dragged you through the crowd with fierce determination, dodging people and fallen bottles, to his car parked near the main road.

Jungwon opened the passenger door and almost pushed it in. «Get in.»

"I don’t even think so!"

The sirens came even closer, and you had no choice. You sat in the seat with your heart in your throat, slamming the door just as he was getting into the driver’s seat and turning on the engine.

«It’s written on your face that you’ve never been to such meetings,» he said as he set off. «Too scared to move.»

You stared at him. "I’m not scared!"

«Oh, you are,» he replied, and before you could fight back he put the gas on. The machine slammed forward at a speed that took your breath away. You clung to the seat, white knuckles, as the landscape began to flow at an impossible speed. The sirens were still behind you, but they got farther and farther away.

"You’re going too fast!" you shouted, trying to make yourself heard above the roar of the engine.

Jungwon did not answer, his face focused while he was dodging other cars and taking sharp turns without ever slowing down. His calm was frightening.

"I said slow down!" He turned his head slightly towards you, a funny smile that curved his lips. «What is it, speed scares you? I thought you were more brave.»

That was the drop of water. Without thinking, you raised your hand and slapped him on the arm. "Slow down!"

Jungwon laughed, the sound was low and incredibly calm for the situation. «It doesn’t work like that, princess. With the police on your tail, you run or lose.»

You stared at him, furious and terrified at the same time. "You’re out of your mind!"

«Maybe» he replied, giving the pedal a further push. The car accelerated even more, and you felt your heart go up in your throat.

«Tell me where you live,» said Jungwon, suddenly serious.

You exhibited, still tight to the seat. "Why?"

«Because if you don’t tell me, I don’t know where to leave you. Unless you want to stay with me all night.»

Your cheeks burned. "You’re an idiot."

«I take it as a compliment.»

With an exasperated sigh, you gave him the address. He nodded, turned the wheel with impeccable accuracy, and put a side road in.

The speed was only slightly slower, but not fast enough to feel the ground under your feet.

When it finally arrived in front of your palace, your heart was still beating like a drum.

He stopped the car, putting an arm on the steering wheel as he looked at you. «All together, see? It wasn’t so bad.»

You struck him with your eyes, but you did not answer. You opened the door and came down, almost stumbling as your legs trembled.

«Good night, princess», said Jungwon with a smile as he looked at you.

"Good night a horn," you mumbled, slamming the door. But as you ran home, you couldn’t ignore the fact that, despite everything, a part of you had felt that adrenaline... and you almost liked it.

The atmosphere at the university was unbearable. Every conversation seemed to revolve around Jungwon: the young prodigy, the boy who had rushed like lightning in the last run and left everyone speechless.

You sighed every time you heard his name. It was everywhere. In the boys' talks, in the girls' whispers. Even the professors seemed to mention with a veiled interest "that young pilot of whom everyone is talking".

But to you, Jungwon was just an arrogant boy with a passion for risk and a smile that irritated you more than it was allowed. Yet, there was something you couldn’t get out of your head: the night of the escape. The speed, the shiver, the way you felt alive... and vulnerable. It was a feeling you hated and, in part, wanted to forget.

One afternoon, as you were desperately trying to ignore the avalanche of messages in the groups on Jungwon, your bff approached your desk with a complicit smile and a colorful poster in hand.

'Look here,' she said, waving the paper before you.

You looked up from the book. "What is it?"

'One race,' he replied enthusiastically. 'But not a big one. It’s a training for the top 5, a private event. Only a few can attend.'

"So why show it to me?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

'Cause I want to go there,' she replied with a smirk. 'And I thought you could come along. You know, as my partner in crime.'

"Not even in my dreams," you cut short, back to the book.

'Really?' sat down next to you, lowering his voice in a provocative tone. 'Are you sure? Maybe you can take the opportunity to thank that guy who saved you last night.'

You were blocked. Those words hit a nerve. You promised to thank him, despite everything. After that night you didn’t see each other anymore, and not that you cared particularly... or maybe yes?

"I’m thinking about it," you murmured at the end, leaving your satisfied bff in her place.

Two days later, you were exactly where you swore you would never be: a private track just outside the city, surrounded by a select few spectators. There was no crowd or chaos, only the roar of cars preparing to go down the track.

Despite initial reluctance, you could not deny that the atmosphere was fascinating. The shiny asphalt in the sun, the smell of burnt rubber, and the electricity in the air. It was all so... different.

You settled next to your best friend, who chatted animately with Jay. But your eyes were immediately caught by a figure in the distance: Jungwon.

He was there, with his pilot’s suit half open on the chest, helmet under his arm, and that cheeky smile printed on his face. He was laughing with a group of girls who seemed to be hanging on his lips.

You were staring at him, unable to look away. It was impossible to deny: he was beautiful. Perhaps too beautiful. His cat eyes shone with a light that seemed magnetic, and the dark and slightly ruffled hair fell perfectly on his face as if they had been designed for him.

And that suit... God.

"Oh, no," you muttered, looking away. You couldn’t, you didn’t have to admit it was nice. He wasn’t. He wasn’t even your type.

'Are you all right?' she asked, giving yourself a curious look.

"Yes," you answered, clenching your fists. "It’s all right."

But as Jungwon put on his helmet with a fluid gesture and approached his car, you noticed that your heart was beating faster. And it wasn’t the noise of the engines.

Coming fourth wasn’t exactly the result he wanted, especially considering he had raced against Heeseung and Sunghoon, two legends in the underground races. He had given everything, but against them, it was like fighting a storm.

As he stepped out of the car and took off his helmet, his gaze wandered through the small crowd of selected spectators. He looked for Jay, knowing that he would be somewhere with his girlfriend.

When he found it, however, Jungwon was stuck for a moment. Next to Jay was she: the good girl.

She was still, her arms crossed and the expression swaying between embarrassment and a strange determination. Although the light of sunset played with his features, giving his figure an almost ethereal aura, it was evident that he was not at ease in that environment.

Jungwon approached, his disappointment for fourth place temporarily forgotten. Curiosity shone in his feline eyes. «Wow, who sees again,» he said, a sneering smile that curled his lips.

You looked at him with your usual exasperated expression, but with a slight blush that colored your cheeks. "Hi, Jungwon."

«I didn’t think these places were your kind» he continued, slightly bowing his head. «Have you decided to add a little adrenaline to your monotonous life?»

Roll your eyes, ignoring the provocation. "I’m not here to have fun."

«Oh, then why are you here?»

Take a deep breath, determined to say what you had to. "I’m here to thank you."

Jungwon stared at you, surprised. «Thank me? For what?»

"For having me... Saved, if you may say so, the other night," I replied, looking down for a moment before raising it to meet his eyes.

For a moment he laughed, shaking his head slightly.

«Saved, eh?» she said, approaching by a step. «I would say that I have only given you a moving passage.»

"Call it what you will," you replied, trying to keep your cool. "But still... thank you."

Jungwon stopped laughing and stared at you, his eyes twinkling like something that looked like a challenge.

«And what do you think I want in return?» he asked, his voice low and almost hypnotic.

You looked at him, confused. "In return?"

He leaned slightly towards you, his face so close that you felt the warmth of his breath on your skin. Then, with a whisper that made your blood freeze in the veins, he said: «A kiss.»

Your eyes widened. "You’re kidding, right?"

Jungwon straightened, smiling with the same arrogance as ever. «I never joke, princess.»

You stared at him for a long moment, trying to figure out if he was serious or not. Finally, he crossed his arms and raised his chin in defiance. "Then you will be left without thanks."

He laughed as if his answer amused him even more. «We will see» and walked away with a sure pace, leaving you there with your heart still beating wildly.

It was a quiet evening, of those you preferred. Your best friend had gone out with Jay, and for once the apartment seemed to be in a pleasant silence. You were sitting on the couch with a cup of hot tea and a book, finally free to enjoy some peace.

But that peace broke suddenly when the intercom rang, making you jump. You were not expecting anyone. You did a little bit of showing, but then you went and checked the screen.

Your breath was blocked. On the monitor was Jungwon, hands in his pockets and that relaxed expression that seemed to say "I’m always in the right place at the right time."

"What’s he doing here?" you murmured, nervously tightening the oversized pajamas you wore. He put his hand on your mouth, trying to collect your thoughts.

Despite everything, you opened.

Jungwon’s steps rang up the stairs, and before you could get ready, he was standing at the door, tall, confident, and with a slight smile on his face.

«Hello, princess,» he said, leaning on the door frame.

You looked at him, confused and with a mixture of irritation and nervousness. "What are you doing here?"

He did not answer. He entered without being invited, taking off his shoes naturally as if he were at home.

"what.." you stopped when you saw him walking around the apartment, observing everything with curiosity.

«Nice place,» said Jungwon, passing a hand on the kitchen cabinet and then taking a look at the sofa. He moved with the grace of a cat, calmly exploring every corner.

"You can’t come in like that," you protested.

«Why not? » he answered, turning to look at you. «I’m doing nothing wrong.»

You crossed your arms, trying to keep calm. "You still avoided the main question: what are you doing here?"

Jungwon came a few steps closer, reducing the distance between you. His gaze was piercing, and the sneering smile had never left his face. «I have come to take my thanks.»

The heart missed a stroke. "What?"

«I told you, didn’t I? I don’t leave anything halfway.» He leaned slightly toward you. «And I don’t accept excuses.»

You roast, feeling completely overwhelmed by his presence. You tried to appeal to your rational side, but couldn’t find the right words. "I... I don’t understand why you’re doing this. I owe you nothing."

Jungwon tilted his head as if he was weighing up his words. Then he laughed softly, a low, warm sound that made her shiver. «You’re always so sweet, aren’t you? And scared.»

"I am not afraid," you protested.

«Oh, yes you are,» he replied, getting even closer. His eyes shone with malice, but there was something else too, something deeper that you could not decipher.

I stepped back, but you found yourself with your back against the kitchen table. You were trapped, and Jungwon seemed to know it.

«So?» he asked you, with a smile that seemed like a challenge. «What about my thanks?»

You looked down, your face was red. "I don’t know what you want from me..."

Jungwon laughed again, this time more softly. He raised his hand and pulled a lock of hair from your face. His touch was light, but enough to hold your breath.

«All right,» he said, in a strangely gentle tone. "Perhaps I’ll let you choose how you want to thank me. But remember, princess, I never forget.»

With those words, he finally left and returned to snooping.

Jungwon was still looking around, moving like a curious cat, when his gaze fell on the couch. Without thinking too much, he dropped with a soft thud, stretching as if he were the master of the house. «Nice and comfortable here," he commented nonchalantly.

You were staring at him with your arms crossed, trying to keep a serious tone. "I didn’t invite you to get comfortable, you know."

He ignored you as his eyes were set on a book left on the pillow next to him. With disarming speed, he grabbed it.

«Let’s see what our princess reads,» he said, flipping through the pages.

"No! Give it back!" you exclaimed, approaching quickly.

But it was too late. Jungwon read aloud one of the most sappy passages in the book, imitating an overly sweet voice. "And he stared at her intensely, unable to resist the temptation to kiss her..."

You suddenly blush, embarrassed. "Stop it, give me back now!"

Jungwon burst out laughing.

«I never thought you were a fan of romantic novels. Aren’t you the one with the study books?»

You came to grab the book, but he pushed it away, holding it high above his head. "Jungwon, I told you to give it back!"

In an attempt to catch him, you swerved, falling on him on the couch. Both of you ended up lying down, you on top of him, the forgotten book on the ground.

For a moment everything seemed to stop. You looked up and met his feline eyes, so close that he could see every detail of their depth.

With a slow gesture, he raised his hand and stroked your cheek, the thumb that touched your skin with disarming delicacy. «Soft,» he murmured, almost in silence, as if he was making an incredible discovery.

Your heart was beating fast, and your face turned even more red. "J-Jungwon..."

He slightly tilted his head, his gaze curious and fascinated. Then, with a speed that caught you by surprise, he made you a slight tickle on your hips, making you burst into an involuntary laugh.

"Hey!" you protested in laughter, trying to move, but Jungwon kept teasing you with that funny smile.

«I like your laugh», he said, stopping at last. His voice was warm and low, and for a moment the atmosphere among you changed.

Before you could say anything, Jungwon leaned slightly towards you, his feline movements controlled. Then, with a confidence that seemed to leave no room for doubt, he laid his lips on yours.

The kiss was soft, but firm. There was no hurry, just a gesture full of respect and curiosity. You felt his big hands leaning around your back to hold you closer to him and with a sigh you let his tongue enter your mouth; It was the best kiss you had ever had and Jungwon looked so good at everything he did and you felt the heat of the contact immediately that broke down all resistance.

When you left, Jungwon smiled at you, his eyes shining with something you still couldn’t define. «Now I can consider myself thanked,» he muttered, the mischievous tone but strangely sweet.

Jungwon looked at you with a smile that mixed mischievousness and tenderness. «You know, I must admit,» he said in that witty tone that you now knew well, «you’re quite good at kissing, princess.»

You opened your eyes wide, the redness immediately rising to your cheeks. "Jungwon!" you protested, lightly hitting him on the shoulder.

He laughed, the low and relaxed sound that always seemed to make fun of you, but in a surprisingly affectionate way. Before he could fight back, he wrapped an arm around your waist and gently pulled you to himself, causing your head to rest on his neck.

«Then relax,» he muttered, as he slowly stroked your back.

Part of you couldn’t help but wonder: How can I feel safe with him? Jungwon was everything that represented chaos, risk, and defying the rules. Yet there, in his arms, was a calm you could not explain.

«Do you feel safe?» he asked you as if he had read your mind.

You did not answer immediately, clenching your fingers against the fabric of his shirt. At the end, you whisper, with a thread of voice: "It makes no sense, but yes."

Jungwon smiled, and his warm breath tickled your hair. «Maybe because I’m less dangerous than you think.»

Before you could answer, Jungwon moved slightly, breaking contact. He stood up, stretching with a grace that seemed almost feline. «But now I must go.»

You looked at him, still sitting on the sofa. "Doing... illegal things?" you asked, your voice a little jokey but also a bit serious.

He laughed softly, shaking his head. «In a way yes. I have to do something very illegal for the human being, imposed from above.»

You stared at him, confused. "What?"

«Study», he replied with a sly smile.

You blinked, incredulous. "Study?"

Jungwon nodded, putting his hands in his pockets. «Right. You don’t seem convinced.»

"I’m not," you admitted. "You... study? Really?"

«Of course. I study law.»

His words left you breathless. "Law?" you repeated, incredulous. "You? The boy who runs illegally and seems to ignore every rule... Do you study law?"

Jungwon laughed again, amused by his reaction. «I know, I know. It seems a contradiction, doesn’t it? But what can I do? I have a passion for rules. Only I prefer to decide when and how to follow them.»

You stared at him, trying to process that new information. "You are... a living contradiction."

«Interesting,» he smiled maliciously at you. Then, he slightly bowed his head. «And you are adorable when you are confused. See you, princess.»

And with those words, he left, leaving you sitting on the sofa staring at the door. And you thought that Jungwon was a riddle that you didn’t know how to solve yet.

After days of life seemed back to normal, you were immersed in your journalism studies, trying to forget the chaos that Jungwon had brought into your life. You were focused, determined to keep your head on her future, away from distractions.

But when your colleague at the university newspaper asked you to write a piece about clandestine racing, you suddenly found yourself back in the center of that world from which you had tried to get away.

'Are you sure you want to do it?' asked the colleague. 'It doesn’t seem like your environment.'

You raised your chin, determined. "I can do it. I’ll go with my best friend, no problem."

And so, that Saturday night, you found yourself again immersed in the racket noise. The pre-race was a chaotic party: deafening music, neon lights that illuminated the improvised track, people laughing and drinking everywhere. Your best friend, she seemed perfectly comfortable, but you don't.

Despite everything, you took your notebook and you started working. You had to do a detailed report, so you started to observe the machines and transcribe nicknames, technical notes, and the general atmosphere.

"The Panther" had a black and shiny livery, and "The Eagle" a silver car that seemed to slip in the air. Each pilot had a nickname, an identity that made them bigger than life.

But when your gaze was set on a machine unmistakable, your heart stopped. It was there, in all its glory: the hood painted with shiny stripes that reminded of claw scratches, and the name he had already heard whispered by Jay: The Wildcat.

Next to the car was him. Jungwon.

Your heart sped up when you saw it. Lying nonchalantly beside the car, he wore a dark leather jacket left unlaced, revealing a tight-fitting T-shirt that highlighted his dry physique. The messy hair looked even softer in the neon light, and the cat eyes shone with a mix of challenge and fun. He was not alone. Three, maybe four girls were standing near him, laughing and flirting openly. One of them had put a hand on his arm, and he didn’t seem at all annoyed.

The pen you held in your hand stopped. You felt a wave of conflicting emotions: annoyance, jealousy, irritation, and that bit of insecurity that you could never get away from when it came to confronting other girls.

'Are you all right?' asked your bff, noticing your sudden silence.

"Yes," lying, looking down, and pretending to take notes in your notebook.

Jungwon seemed perfectly in his element. Every movement and every smile seemed to be designed to attract attention, and it worked perfectly. Everyone was watching him, and he knew it.

When one of the girls came closer to him, laughing and putting a hand on his chest, you felt yourself burning inside. You turned, pressing the notebook against your chest. It shouldn’t have mattered. It didn’t.

But then, as if he had felt your gaze even amid the chaos, Jungwon looked up and saw you.

His smile stopped for a moment. The feline eyes were fixed on you, curious and perhaps surprised.

You held your breath, unable to look away.

Then, Jungwon’s smile returned, slower and deeper. She pulled away from the car and stepped over to you, the girls who were quietly protesting about the sudden lack of attention.

You were juggling between the machines, trying to ignore the knot of emotion that had formed in his stomach after seeing Jungwon. You kept taking notes in his notebook, writing down details about the race, the drivers, the nicknames... but your heart could not calm down.

You were focused on describing a car with a fiery red livery when suddenly you heard a hand grab your notebook. You slammed your eyes and you saw it.

Jungwon was there, a few steps away from you, with that cat-like look in his eyes that seemed to be light inside. His eyes shone with mischief and amusement, and his lips curled in a sneering smile. «Hey, princess,» he said goodbye, holding the notebook carelessly in her hand. «I missed something or are you trying to write a book about us?»

"Give it back, Jungwon. I’m working."

He slightly tilted his head, studying it. «Working, eh? You didn’t find a minute to come and say hello? All the other girls did it.» His voice was a mixture of provocation and challenge.

You’re sticking your jaw, trying to keep calm. "I didn’t come here to make friends, Jungwon. I have other things to do."

Your words made him smile. He leaned slightly towards you, your eyes straight in his. «Let me guess... Are you jealous?»

You blinked, surprised by her question. Then you sat down, raising your chin with determination. "Not. Why should I be jealous?"

Jungwon stared at you for a moment, his smile widening as if he were having a great time. «I don’t know, but usually the girls who look at me like that have something to say.»

You get stiff, feeling your face getting warmer and warmer. "I wasn’t looking at you in any way. I have other things to think about."

He laughed softly, a sound that seemed to wrap her like a caress. «Sure, princess. As you wish.»

You ripped the notebook out of his hands. "Stop calling me that. And let me do my job."

Jungwon pulled back, raising his hands in surrender, but his smile did not fade. «All right, all right. But don’t take it too hard. You know where to find me if you change your mind.»

And with a last look that seemed to promise trouble, he turned around and returned to his car.

The race was a whirlwind of emotions. You were with Jay and your bff, watching the chaos of cars sprinting under the spotlight. The engines were roaring, and the adrenaline felt palpable in the air. Jungwon was third, fighting ferociously to reach the podium and win that prize which meant more than just money.

You couldn’t deny that she was nervous. Every tight turn, every overtake, every calculated risk made her hold her breath. The gaze was instinctively set on Jungwon’s car, recognizable by its aggressive stripes and proudly painted number.

But then it happened.

The Panther made an illegal move. A sharp cut to the trajectory, too close to be a simple mistake. Jungwon’s car skidded, losing control, and went off the track with an impact that made the silence in the air resound. No one laughed, no one spoke.

"Damn it!" cursed Jay, sprinting into the pit area to see what had happened to Jungwon. You looked for Jungwon, but he was as if disappeared, swallowed up by the darkness of the track. The crowd around you had already started to celebrate, shouting for Heeseung, Sunghoon, and the Panther’s victory as the spotlight turned on the winners.

You were lost. You couldn’t think of anything but the car that was off the track and the guy driving it. Where was Jungwon? Was he all right?

"Hey," a deep voice brought you back to reality.

You turned around and saw a boy coming towards you. It was the pilot of the Panther, the one who caused the accident.

"What is a pretty girl doing here with a notebook in her hand?" he asked, looking at you with interest.

"I’m working," you replied coldly, holding the notebook to my chest. "I’m a journalist, I have to write about the race."

He laughed, a sound that had nothing genuine. "A journalist, eh? Well, maybe you could write a piece about me. You know, I’m the star of the night."

You stared at it, the obvious annoyance on your face. "I don’t think I’ll write about who plays dirty to win."

The boy’s smile cracked slightly, but before he could answer, a movement behind him caught both of their attention.

«I don’t think he wants to write about you,» said a familiar, low, and tense voice.

Jungwon was there. Hair sprawled, a small wound on the eyebrow that bled slightly, and an expression that promised trouble.

The Panther’s pilot smiled, raising his hands in surrender. "Oh, there it is. I thought you were still licking your off-piste wounds."

He didn’t have time to finish the sentence. Jungwon advanced with a lightning move and punched him straight in the face. The boy staggered back, a hand to his nose.

«If you want to win, do it playing clean» growled Jungwon, his voice low but full of anger.

Stood still, my heart beating like a bat. You had never seen Jungwon so full of fury and determination.

He turned to you, his feline eyes staring at you with an intensity that made you hold your breath.

«Is everything okay?» he asked you, his voice suddenly quieter.

You are slow and unable to formulate a response. He watched you for a moment longer, then turned to the pilot of the Panther, who was still recovering.

«Never come near her again,» said Jungwon, his voice dangerously low. And with those words, he took your hand and led you away from the crowd, leaving chaos behind.

You found yourself catapulted into the car of Jungwon, almost without realizing how it happened. He was furious, his face tense and his cat eyes shone with a disturbing intensity. His hands held the steering wheel tightly, and the silence in the car was broken only by the soft hum of the engine.

You look around nervously, trying to figure out where you are going. You did not dare to speak, but you could not ignore the charged energy that was breathed into the air.

In the end, Jungwon stopped in a poorly lit parking lot, away from the chaos of the race and the festivities. He turned off the engine but said nothing for a moment. He ran his hand through his hair, visibly irritated, and then turned to you, approaching dangerously.

«What the hell were you thinking, Y/n?» he growled, his voice low but full of anger.

You stared at him, confused and slightly intimidated. "I... was working. I just asked questions and took notes for the piece I have to write."

Jungwon came even closer, his eyes peering at you. «Working? With that ridiculous little skirt and the top that leaves everything in sight? Where is the good girl I kissed the other day?»

You looked at him, surprised and irritated by her reaction. "Sorry?! What’s the matter, Jungwon? It’s not your concern what I’m wearing. And, for your information, I’m still the same person, even if I don’t dress like a nun to come to these stupid races!"

He raised an eyebrow, the sneer smile returning to his face. «Ah, so now you like to be a rebel? Interesting.»

"It’s not about rebellion!" you broke off with your arms crossed. "And stop judging me. It’s you who runs illegally, not me."

For a moment, Jungwon stared at you in silence, then his smile went out, and his gaze became more serious. «I don’t want you to get into trouble. Not with people like that, and certainly not in a place like this."

You were silent, struck by the sincerity in her voice, but you didn’t want to give it up. "I’m not a child, Jungwon. I can take care of myself."

Now your faces were a few inches apart. «You don’t understand, do you? It’s not just about looking after yourself. I can’t stand the idea that someone else could even look at you like that guy did.»

You suddenly felt confused and vulnerable under his intense gaze. "Jungwon..."

But he didn’t give you the time. With a strong gesture, he took you by the face and kissed you, his lips pressing against yours with overwhelming confidence, but not without sweetness. It was a kiss that spoke of unresolved emotions, confusion, and desire.

You stood still for a moment, but then you let go, returning the kiss. You didn’t know what that meant, but at the time, in his arms, you felt inexplicably safe, even though Jungwon represented everything he had to avoid.

The anger, tension, and that strange, irresistible attraction that Jungwon seemed to be kindling in you all exploded at once. You grabbed him by the collar of the shirt and pulled him towards you, kissing him again with more passion, as if you wanted to make him understand once and for all how confused she was, but also how lost you were for him.

Your hands trembled as they sat on Jungwon’s sculpted chest. You felt the muscles twitch under your fingers as if he was struggling to keep control. The heat emanating seemed to burn her skin, but she did not want to stop.

Between one kiss and the next, he pulled away slightly, his lips still dangerously close to hers. «Wait,» he muttered, with a smile that seemed to hide a thousand secrets. «Move slightly from the seat.»

You looked at him, confused, as he moved swiftly into the passenger seat. She pointed with a sure nod to his lap. «Sit here.»

You stared at him with wide eyes, heart pounding in your chest. "Jungwon, we’re in public..."

He chuckled, the sound low and incredibly charming. «Nobody is watching us. And even if they did... who cares? Trust me.»

After a moment of hesitation, you moved in embarrassment, and you sat on his legs. Your arms instinctively clenched around Jungwon’s neck, as he laid his hands on his hips, holding you firmly against him.

«See?» he whispered, in a tone that had a disarmingly sweet sweetness. «There is nothing to be afraid of.»

He, on the other hand, seemed comfortable, but there was something in his eyes that betrayed a darker depth. His fingers began to trace little circles on your hips, and his smile became more intense.

«You’re so beautiful,» he said, his tone suddenly serious, as he stared at you as if you were the only thing that mattered to him in the world. «You don’t realize what you’re doing to me, do you?»

You shook your head slightly, unable to find the words.

He tilted his head, his gaze becoming darker but at the same time incredibly sweet.

«I don’t want anyone to look at you the way I do. Is that a problem?»

"Jungwon..." you mumbled, but he didn’t give her time to continue.

He drew his lips to your ear like a kitten huddled in its den, sank his face against his neck, inhaled your scent, squeezed you tighter, and began kissing you and making little pacifiers.

«You are so sensitive,» he murmured, as he heard how you tried to deny the moans of pleasure. «I love to see how you react to me, I bet no one has made you feel like this in your life, princess.»

This time she touched the edge of your lace panties slightly.

"Jungwon.... not here," You said as you felt his big fingers sear your panties.

Your words seemed to light something in Jungwon. His smile grew wider and more dangerous, and a bad boy’s flash lit up his face. «Oh, princess» he whispered, tilting his head slightly as his hands slid into her life. «I want everything of you... but I’m not sure I can wait.»

Before you could answer, his fingers moved with an exasperating slowness under your skirt, and he began to draw light circles as you felt that slowly you were already excited for him. You held your breath, feeling the heat that spread throughout your body.

Jungwon, amused by your reaction, drew little circles with his fingers, stroking the slightly moist fabric. «So wet»

You whispered in a tone that mixed sweetness and provocation. «Is this all for me?»

You nodded weakly with your face becoming increasingly red.

He came near your ear again, letting his warm breath caress her skin. «I would like to take everything of you now, but not in this car. Not like that. You deserve more.»

Despite his words, he did not stop at all. He started touching your pussy but a grin formed on his face and looked as if there was someone outside and with a strong movement touched the lever that was under the seat and lowered it. «Lie down Y/n, I will make you feel good while I kneel.» Jungwon laid you down in the seat and began to slide his hands on one of your legs, lifting it to leave a kiss trail up to your thigh, Stopping occasionally to admire your soft skin that was illuminated by the moon and the intense look you were throwing at him. «I promise you that I will make you feel so good, you can’t be touched by any boy from today»

He moved his head under the skirt took the piece of your panties between his teeth and slowly pulled it down, moaning audibly as he watched a series of excitement drip from your heart. His cock was already pulsing in his pants but today he just wanted to make you feel good, there would be other opportunities that he would be well.

You looked at him a lot embarrassed but also extremely excited when you saw him with your panties in your mouth and pulled his hair and carried him back down into your pussy.

"Jungwon, I’m... you can lick it pls» Jungwon started laughing and tricked his tongue on your inner thigh, capturing your excitement on his tongue. «Fuck, baby, you’re so good. Let me eat your pretty pussy» You slightly widened your thighs and moaned instantly when he licked and licked, without even thinking about it, before reaching his hand behind you with his arms stretched out to pull you closer, guiding your hips down with force "Jungwon," you panicked. Your brain got a little confused as it pushed your thighs away, then lifted them up and away so that you could bury your face deeper between them. «Look at you, you’re getting your pussy licked in the middle of nowhere by the only guy you find irritating»

Jungwon took a second to smile at you, stroking your slimy thigh with his cheek, and pressing a small lingering kiss on your warm skin. His tongue was hot and wet against your pussy, practically melting against your folds, making long and deliberate passes up to your clitoris before you concentrate on it and suck it with a fervor that sent waves of pleasure.

Unable to hold your voice, you began to emit gasping and stuttering moans, unintentionally lifting yourself into his mouth as he licked and sucked your clitoris, feeling your cheeks burning more and more long he looked into your eyes.

"I am... oh my God, please" greedily caress your clitoris pulsing in quick and deliberate circles with the thumb, automatically bringing two fingers to your pussy, your greedy hole sucked them up to your knuckles, without hesitating to push them in and out of you. Once your legs hooked to her waist, she quickened and pumped the rhythm of her fingers, your moisture now so palpable that it was beginning to leak out of you.

«Come princess, only for the wildcat» you exhaled, licking your lips and savoring the remains of yourself on your tongue, Striking him in a way that made you fight the urge to let your eyes roll down to the bottom of your skull and come between his fingers and with a gesture he took her to his mouth and sucked her as if it were the best thing in this world.

Yes, he got up slightly and felt his cock and balls extremely tight and hard in the pants but it was worth it, he had just made the "good girl" come off the university and knew that she would think for not how long to this episode of him bowing to her to suck their pussy.

You had spent a few nights writing your piece, trying to maintain a balance between your natural contempt for the illegality and that subtle attraction for the adrenaline-fuelled world that you had discovered recently. In the end, you delivered your article to the local newspaper, knowing that it would create a sensation, especially among the pilots.

You described the atmosphere in vivid words, talking about the roar of engines, the smoke from tires on the asphalt, and people who seemed to live only for those moments.

Extract from the article:

"There is something irresistibly hypnotic about seeing those riders challenge everything and everyone, putting their lives on the edge of a razor for a ride of glory. But despite the obvious danger and illegality, I can not deny that I also felt the heartbeat accelerate, the shiver of every curve taken to the limit. It’s a world that makes you want more, even when you know you shouldn’t."

You also mentioned the most famous pilots, dedicating a part of his article to the young and mysterious Wildcat:

"Among the many, one stands out for his early talent and rebellious attitude: Wildcat. At just 20, he has shown a mastery of the steering wheel that defies logic. But it’s not just his ability that makes him interesting: there is an energy in him, an aura that makes him unmatched. Despite his age, he drives like he was born to do it, and there’s a dangerous confidence in his feline eyes that makes you wonder what lies behind that provocative smile. Who knows if, behind the bad boy mask, there is something more... is a bad boy as everyone says or is different with the people he loves?"

Jungwon, sitting on the couch at home, had read the article carefully. The newspaper folded on his knees, his eyes shone with a strange combination of annoyance and amusement.

'So he thinks I’m hiding something, eh?' he murmured to himself, "And it describes that adrenaline so well... Maybe she’s not so different from me after all.'

Then he stopped to read another part:

"It is clear that risk is an integral part of this world, but perhaps this is what makes it so irresistible. Once you enter, it’s hard to get out of it, especially when you meet people who seem made for living without rules. And although I do not share this lifestyle, I cannot deny that there is something fascinating about observing those who are not afraid to challenge any limit."

Jungwon laughed slowly, was it perhaps a hint of what happened in the car between the gold two the other day?

'Good girl, eh?' mumbled. 'You’re so convinced that you don’t want to be part of this world, but underneath I know you like it. And I’m the only one who can take you beyond that limit, Y/n

He decided that he could not let go of the matter. He had to see her, tease her personally, and above all make her understand that no one could talk about him in that way without suffering the consequences.

You had just come out of the shower and heard the bell ring. Your best friend was not in, and you were not expecting anyone. And on the screen of the video intercom was: Jungwon, with the folded newspaper in his hand and that dangerous smile you now recognized too well.

You opened the door, trying to keep calm. "What are you doing here?" You asked, crossing my arms.

Jungwon didn’t answer immediately, just entering with a disarming security. «So you wrote an article about the bad boys of the city Y/n? Pleased with the comments you received?» He said in a low, sharp voice, waving the newspaper before you.

"It’s just my job," you replied, trying to keep a professional tone.

Jungwon chuckled and slowly approached, leaning slightly towards you until your faces were a few inches away. «No one speaks of me in this way. Not even you.»

You instinctively backed away, but he followed you, the paper still in his hand, his eyes shining with an intensity that made her tremble. «Wildcat, eh? Feline eyes, dangerous smile... tell me, were you writing or fantasizing about me? what is it you missed already my touch?»

"Don’t get your head in the sand, Jungwon. I just brought the truth."

«Truth?» he repeated with a grin, getting even closer. «And what is the truth? That you like this world? That you like what I make you feel?»

You felt trapped, and your heart was beating too fast. "I... I don’t..."

Before you could finish the sentence, Jungwon dropped the newspaper on the counter and took you by the side, lifting you up easily and making you sit on the kitchen island. He stood between your legs, his eyes fixed on his.

«Spare me the apology,» you whispered, his voice full of desire and a touch of possession. «I know exactly what you’re trying to hide. It’s in your eyes every time you look at me.»

You tried to talk, but before you could say a word, Jungwon leaned over and kissed you with an overwhelming passion. His hands seized your hips with force, pulling you even closer as if he wanted to erase all distance.

The kiss was different from the previous ones: there was not only passion but also a kind of affirmation. He wanted you to know that you were his, that no one else could get close to you like he did. «Never again write about me in that way,» he whispered against her lips, her voice low and hoarse. «I don’t want anyone else to know how good I am at making you feel this way. This is just for us.»

Jungwon caressed your face sweetly, a striking contrast to his possessive grip on your hips.

You felt his fingers trace the skin of your hips under your shirt until it reached the breast that was completely uncovered because you had just washed, His fingers were slightly cold to contact your breast and Bud tickled you and made you slightly arch your back. «You are already so sensitive to me and i touched you only with a finger what will happen when you fuck princess?» Jungwon took off your shirt and started kissing you and tickling your breasts, your poor nipples were turgid and with one hand he held you still and with the other, he massaged you alternating to tighten your left breast. He sucked you as if he was obsessed with your breast but had other things for the head that he wanted to do, you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him and he with one hand ran through your leg from the knee to the inside of the thigh, making you lose breath, a smug smile took shape on his lips as he tilted his head watching your reaction as his fingers approached your core, the tips traced him around your pajamas shorts and groans at the touch of his fingers around your core still dressed.

"Jungwon...I need" Your hand moved to touch his cock through the pants of the suit, making him moan, pulled down your pajama shorts, and when he saw that you already had your panties slightly wet a grin set up on his face, «God, already so fucking wet for me» and you kept massaging his cock, and I also took him off in his pants and made him spread a little 'the stain of the pre-ejaculate in his boxer shorts.

He took you in his arms as you kissed and kissed, and brought you to your room and laid you gently by the edge of your bed, you were perfect for him, It was months that he dreamed of fucking you and having you all to himself and finally came the time to see that the good girl who everyone loved at university was not so much a good girl when she was with him. He quickly removed your panties and his fingers finally touched your clitoris, winding around the bundle of nerves, throwing it every time you moved your hips trying to get more friction; «look at you, you are already so eager to have my fingers around you, where has the good girl gone?» You groaned and tried to move easily but Jungwon as usual was teasing you.

"Jungwon, stop being like that. We both know that underneath you were pleased with that article" Jungwon looked at you with serious eyes and without saying anything two fingers entered your already sensitive core, making you shudder.

“Fuck, oh yeah!" Jungwon started pumping your fingers slowly though and you moved so much that you accidentally touched his cock in his boxer shorts with one hand he held you tight and with the other, he touched you but Jungwon had other plans with you.

«The other day in the car I made you come, now it’s your turn to show me what you can do, I really want to see if the good girls can be good with dicks» You looked at Jungwon slightly embarrassed and opened your mouth to the surprise of his words.

Choking a groan as his fingers curled inside you again. Your hands moved quickly to lower his boxer shorts, releasing his huge cock, making you open wide eyes but your mouth was even more flooding with desire for him.

Your hand quickly distributed the pre-seminal liquid, and your thumb gently moved it while you watched his reaction, smiling at seeing that you were making him enjoy only with his cock in hand, whimpering as he added a third finger, By widening even more. Your pussy was already sore and super sensitive by the overstimulation of his fingers and you kept on teasing their cock and sucking it "Jugwon, please" the guy in front of you laughed slowly and he also mooed something incomprehensible

and said: «What do you want, use that beautiful mouth you love to tease people to tell me what my princess wants» moaning loudly when he pumped all three fingers around your pussy it was beautiful but you wanted more.

"I want...I want you, pls" When he heard those words he let out his fingers and spread your legs and your pussy was super shiny, stimulated, and ready to take his dick. His tip only went in a little to drive you crazy, but there was not much you could do while he held your legs apart and on the edge of the bed. Your hands went into his hair, pulling it slightly as you watched Jungwon’s cock disappear inside your pussy, slowly driving you crazy.

It didn’t matter if you begged him he would take it his way, he quickly pulled out all his cock before you could even get used to it if he was back in full again, and repeated it a couple more times before his hand that had been on his member before, It would move on your clitoris making circular movements as it kept burying itself deep inside you and pulling everything out. Moaning, invaded your room and you pulled him even closer to you with the other hand he stroked your cheek and put his thumb in your mouth, and sucked it slightly

«good girl» Nodded while you felt his cock now in your stomach clothing you and it was a wonderful feeling to see Jungwon so lost of you and inside you.

«Look at you, I want you to look at me and groan my name as I hear you hold me with that sweet little pussy of yours, yes?» You nodded and groaned as it hit the exact point of your G-spot and felt the overstimulation of his thumb touching your now swollen clitoris.

«Come for me, come around me, be a good girl, and come all over my dick.»

"Jungwon, please...oh fuck!"

Your high quickly found you while he kept jumping inside of you looking for his release, and you felt his seed and his cum inside you gushing out of your pussy after a while he got rid of his cock around you and gave you little kisses in your neck and made you lie down in the bed and put on his shirt and went straight to get wet clothes to take off everything, the sticky sperm from your legs and after a little while he lay down next to you and hugged you and cuddled to you placing his head in your neck and leave you small kisses and light caresses.

«I hope it didn’t hurt, princess. I... I never felt these things for a girl and you» didn’t end up gently putting your lips on hers and he smiled at you.

"I have never had these feelings for anyone but Jungwon, i don't want this thing to be just for fun…”

Jungwon hugged you and held you close to him

«No, you have not for months now mine and you have not even realized it. This thing is not only for fun for me, I want to make it work because when I win I need my journalist of trust who describes me as his Wildcat!» You laughed and it was extremely true that you and Jungwon could not be so different but at the same time, you were complementary.

Comments and reblog are appreciated❤️

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witherby · 2 months ago

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Could you make more Damian and mer!Reader? I wanna see them swim together!

Yeah, I can do that! The previous post surpassed 10 reblogs so y'all can have another installment :)

Part 2 of Human!Damian x Mer!Reader

Content: Fluff, Swimming, Language Barrier, Courtship Ritual (unbeknownst to Damian)

Part 1 is Here!

You swim in fast spirals through your enclosure, ducking around seaweed and colorful rocks and the fake castle spire they installed for you to hide in, tail brushing against the rough, stony texture. The lights all dimmed about thirty minutes ago, leaving just the bioluminescent foliage scattered throughout your tank and a few, small overhead lamps to illuminate the space. You know that this means all the Attention Time is done for the day, and that Damian will soon be around for dinner and playtime.

When you feel those familiar disturbances in the water, the gentle swish, swish, swish of your favorite caretaker's hand, you bolt towards it and surface with a splash and a chirp. Damian wipes the water off his face and levels you with an unamused look, which you preen at, and you rest your arms on the lip of the tank.

"Hello to you, too," he greets, holding up your bucket. "It's dinner time. You did great today, as though we could expect anything less than perfection at this point."

You take the bucket and start eating, offering a piece of squid to Damian. He scrunches his nose and politely refuses, so you shove it between your own, razor-sharp teeth instead.

"Visitors asked a lot of questions about you today," Damian says. You register the general idea of what he's talking about — the "visitors" are the creatures that come to stare at you in the funny tunnels. "Two of the tour groups asked if you were lonely, being the only mer we have in the aquarium."

The boy tilts his head, vibrant green eyes unusually pensive as he regards you. You stare back as you chew, the fins on either side of your head twitching. You love staring at his eyes, more vibrant than any foliage in your tank and endlessly entertaining to look at. When he speaks again, you do your best to keep following along.

"I didn't know how to answer them. Mers, from what few we've observed in the wild, travel in pods. You don't exhibit behaviors of loneliness or excessive stress, however; I don't think living here without pod-mates is causing you harm, otherwise we'd see you picking at your fins and scales, or lashing out more violently, or at the very least hiding more often."

You smile. How silly of your caretaker — he is your pod! You socialize with him plenty, even if he can't live in your enclosure with you! You click your tongue and trill, showing him your empty bucket to get the frown off his face.

Damian takes it back with a quick word of praise and dodges your grabby hands when you make to pull him into the water.

"Patience. Let me change into the wetsuit, okay, Princess?"

You perk up and chirrup with glee. You know that word! He's going to come into the tank and play!

Damian disappears through a set of doors several yards away from the edge of your tank. You slip under the water to rehydrate your gills, floating aimlessly for a few minutes. When you surface again, Damian is standing on the edge of your tank in a black wetsuit with a small apparatus on his face. After an accident (and it was an accident, you promise! How were you supposed to know the land creatures couldn't breathe water the same way you did?) where you almost drowned Damian trying to play with him, he showed up a few days later with the suit and small face-thing that you learned was important not to pull off of him.

You whistle and trill, arms extended in delight. Damian's eyes crinkle just slightly around the edges, as he can't smile around the rebreather, and he lets his body tip forward into your waiting arms.

You splash into the water together, squeezing him in a tight hug, then draw back to grab his hand and pull him along. Damian allows it, kicking the flippers on his feet to help propel him along, though they're no match for your huge tail.

Playtime always starts with you dragging Damian to the bottom of your tank, either to show him the latest way you've arranged your collection of colorful rocks, or to find a gift for him. Sometimes you give him a rock, sometimes you give him a piece of foliage, and once you gave him a loose brick taken from your castle spire (he put that one back).

Today, you release his hand to dart into your seaweed nest, pawing around until you find what you're looking for, then pop back out and press it into his hands. Damian's eyes go wide, clutching the small handful of shredded scales you passed over with the delicateness one would use to cradle a baby.

Mers tended to have hoarding tendencies, especially for shiny things. Your myriad of painted stones and other aquatic-safe decorations were proof of that. In the wild, shedded scales were kept and used as further decoration for a nest, or placed around the entrance of their home so it could be easily identifiable. To see you hand him what is typically considered a valuable resource to your species...

Well, he's nothing short of flattered. You must care for him a great deal to be willing to part with your scales.

He signs Thank You under the water and carefully tucks the gift into a bag on his hip, since the wetsuit has no pockets. You grin back and twirl around him, bumping him a bit with your tail. Damian can just barely make out the sound of you trilling under the water as you bump him back and forth a couple times, a behavior you've never exhibited before. He bumps you back, which makes you trill even louder. It's fascinating.

When you're done, you circle Damian a few times, chittering and chirping, then gently shove his shoulders and take off like a bullet through the water, off to find a space to tuck yourself into for hide and seek. You can't play tag with him, it's never fair, but other games like this are easily adaptable between the two of you, especially given that your enclosure spans several floors of the building.

As you dart across your expansive tank looking for a place to slip into, you can't fight the giddy little skip in your heart. Damian accepted your scales! He accepted them and thanked you! You're so happy he accepted your proposal to be mated!

-----

Thanks for your support! Reblogs = more content!

#damian wayne x reader #batfam #damian wayne #mermaid au #batfam x reader

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joeyfranchise · 2 months ago

Text

𝟙𝟚 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕗𝕚𝕔-𝕞𝕒𝕤: 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟

pretty paper

husband!joe x fem!reader

summary: you need joe’s help wrapping presents… what better way to get him to comply than asking him to unwrap you after?

warnings: 18+, MDNI. p in v, wrap it before ya tap it!! oral (m. & f. receiving), hair-pulling (slightly), spanking.

word count: 2.5k.

note: merry christmas eve 🎄only one more fic left of fic-mas! it’s been fun. title is from the song pretty paper by willie nelson, but the lyrics don’t really apply here. hope you enjoy this one!

you were going to make joe wrap christmas presents with you.

sure, he’d probably be tired from practice and from the game earlier in the week, but you needed help. it was a blessing and a curse that gift-giving was one of your outgoing love languages.

you’d always been told you were thoughtful and a good listener, and that’s what really helped you pick the perfect gifts for your loved ones. you made a mental note every time someone mentioned something they liked or wanted to you, and then you were really able to let that shine through in moments like these, holidays or birthdays.

the issue with this being your outgoing love language was that you were a bit of an overzealous shopper - you just didn’t know when to stop. you had a mountain of presents to wrap now, and it was going to take you forever, unless you enlisted joe’s help.

you concocted the perfect plan to get him to help you.

you knew precisely when he’d be home, and you planned to have every gift sitting in the den, along with wrapping paper, tape, scissors and bows. you would cook him dinner, offer him to go take a shower if he didn’t at the facility, and then the begging would start. you knew he’d deny you, but you didn’t care. you were prepared to bring out the big guns.

about an hour and a half before joe was set to arrive home you headed upstairs to take a shower, washing your hair and quickly yet carefully running a razor over the parts of your body you wanted smooth.

you got out when you were satisfied, quickly wrapping a towel around your body, and then one around your hair. you lotioned up, put on deodorant and a spritz of perfume, and then you applied a thin coat of mascara.

you dried your hair halfway before getting frustrated with how long it was taking, and you thought half dry would be good enough anyway, so who really cared.

you checked the time on your phone and realized you only had about forty-five left. you quickly padded over to the bedroom and dropped your towel in the dirty hamper before opening your top drawer.

you pulled out the brand new lacy red lingerie set, admiring all the pieces as you laid them at the foot of your bed. you slipped the thong on first, pulling it up and making sure it felt right and was snug in all the right places.

the garter was next, you stepped into it and pulled it up to your waist, positioning it perfectly. you put the bra on last, fastening it on the tightest option to make sure your cleavage looked just right and that you were spilling perfectly over the cups, just a bit like you wanted. you walked to your closet, admiring yourself in the floor length mirror. you looked damn good.

inside the closet you grabbed the last pieces of your attire. you slid on a pair of red thigh-high stockings that had bows just at the top, and you fastened your garters to them.

next you slipped a pair of old gray sweats on, followed by your favorite band tee. you had to play it cool with joe to get this to work, so the most everyday inconspicuous outfit option was the best choice.

once you were satisfied with how you were dressed, you lugged all of the gifts downstairs, placing them on the floor and on the couch. you ran back up to grab the other essentials and then placed them on the coffee table before heading to the kitchen and starting dinner.

you decided on making steak and a few different vegetables, that way it wouldn’t take so long and it’d still be a pretty good dinner. you cleaned your hands and started cooking, seasoning the meat well before tossing it in the pan. you started the vegetables next, and then you washed your hands before grabbing your phone and turning on your favorite playlist to jam while you cooked.

joe arrived home exactly on time, and as he walked through the door you saw him look over at your set-up in the den, giving it a side-eyed glance.

he walked into the kitchen where you were and immediately wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into him and pressing his lips to your forehead. you laid the spatula you were holding down and then wrapped your arms around joe’s torso for a tight hug.

“dinner looks and smells great.” he says. he sounds tired, but he doesn’t seem to be in a bad mood. you’ll take that as a win.

“go ahead and sit down. i’ll make you and plate and then we can eat and after you shower maybe we can watch a movie or two.” you say, knowing that’s not what you want him to do.

joe sits at the dining table, his gaze fixed on you. “i showered before i left, so… i’m good.” you bring his plate and yours to the table before grabbing drinks for yourselves.

he thanks you as you hand over his silverware and starts eating immediately, as do you. you don’t do much talking during dinner, but you never really do. a comfortable silence settles over the room, and you and joe both are content being near each other.

he helps you clean a bit when you’re done eating and then he heads into the den with you on his heels. he side-eyes the presents and wrapping paper again.

“do you have some elaborate plan to get me to help you wrap these or something? tryin’ to butter me up with dinner?” he asks, turning to face you. he pulls you into him again and runs a hand through your hair as he smirks down at you.

“it’s not gonna work, i’m not helping you wrap these.”

he’s still smirking as he speaks to you again. fine, time to bring out the big guns.

“that’s fine. just sit down on the couch and pick a movie. i’ll start wrapping.”

joe sits on the couch and you sit on the floor. you keep your eyes trained on him as he scrolls through the endless holiday movie selection before settling on a mutual favorite, the santa clause.

“this good?” he asks, his eyes still focused on the screen. “perfect.” you answer. you take a small present and a roll of the paper and carefully measure it before cutting. you wrap it up nicely and add a little bow to it, along with writing the recipient’s name in cursive on the top. joe gives you a little glance, but he doesn’t move to help you and he doesn’t say anything.

“ugh. it’s hot in here.” you complain, pretending to be warm. you fan yourself dramatically with your hand. joe looks over at you puzzled. “it feels pretty good to me, you’re hot?”

“burning up actually. i’m just gonna…” you start, your fingers tracing the hem of your shirt. joe stares at you, eager to see what you’re about to do. you lift the shirt over your head in a fluid motion, tossing it in the corner. his eyes nearly pop out of his head.

you lock your gaze with his and he licks his lips before speaking, his voice almost coming out as a croak. “is-is that new?” he asks, leaning forward. his feet are now on the floor rather than propped on the couch, and his elbows rest on his thighs, just above the knee.

you’re still sitting cross-legged on the floor facing him, but you lean back and hold your weight on your hands behind you, giving joe the full view of the lacy red bra and what it’s doing for your cleavage as you toss your hair over your shoulder. he can’t resist, he comes down off the couch and leans over you, taking one of your breasts in his hand while attaching his lips to your neck.

“ah-ah.” you tut, pushing him off. “you only get to unwrap me and the rest of my pretty paper if you help me wrap these gifts.” he rolls his neck and moans as he leans back, the noise sending a thrill straight through your core.

“there’s more? it’s a whole set?” he asks, making no effort to hide the fact that his gaze was lingering on your barely covered chest. “it’s a set.” you say, smiling to yourself.

you knew this would work. now, was bribery okay? not always. but if it meant you got help wrapping these presents AND to fuck your husband afterward… it seemed like it could be okay, just this once.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

joe was wrapping presents like a mad man. they all looked pristine, too. it figured that he’d be great at wrapping presents considering his whole job mostly revolved around his hands, but you were impressed.

once you promised him he’d get to unwrap his present after this, he wouldn’t stop wrapping them as fast as he could and handing them off to you for labels and bows. there were two gifts left to do and you each took one, cutting your paper and taping them up all nice and neat. you placed them into the neat stack and let out a contented sigh before looking back at joe. he was smirking, but you knew he was playing cool. that hard tough exterior was ready to crack any moment.

you stood from the floor, stretching out your limbs, your arms held up over your head. “goddamn.” you heard joe mutter. your fingertips slipped into the waistband of your sweats, pulling them down your legs quickly. you stepped out of them as you stood exposed in front of joe. his mouth hung open as he took in the sight of you, your lacy red lingerie set and thigh high stockings.

“this is the best present i’ve ever received in my life.”

“wanna unwrap me?” you tease, stepping closer to him. you grab his right hand and place it on your breast before grabbing his left and placing it right on your ass. “fuck.” he moans, bringing his lips back to your neck. his tongue leaves a hot, wet trail along the column of your throat as his hands knead your breast and ass, and your hands tug at his hair as you softly moan at the pleasure.

joe breaks away from kissing you to grab your hand and lead you down the hall to your shared bedroom. once inside he starts shedding his clothes quickly, and although it’s not the sexiest way to go about it, you’re still ready to jump his bones. you can see his cock straining in his boxers as you step toward him again. you trace your fingertips along the waistband and he shudders.

you pull his boxers down quickly and fall to your knees in front of him, lightly wrapping your hand around his cock. slowly, you lean forward, taking the tip into your mouth and giving it a small suck. you pull off and trace your tongue along the line of his cock before taking it fully back into your mouth and bobbing your head.

what you can’t fit into your mouth you work with your hand, and joe’s fingers dig into your scalp as he tugs at your hair. you look up at him through your lashes and you moan, sending the vibrations straight through his length.

joe pulls you off and helps you stand, guiding you toward the bed quickly. you get up and lie on your back, watching joe as he stalks toward you like predator to prey. he crawls over you on the bed and unfastens the garter from your stockings so he can pull the thong off you, and he tosses it to the floor.

you spread your legs for him confidently, showing off your glistening folds and the wetness that has spread to your thighs. joe moans again, leaning forward. “you’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, you know that?” he asks before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your clit.

your response back is a moan, and you instinctively want to close your thighs around joe’s head, but he holds them open with his large hands. he licks a long languid stripe up your core, licking and slurping as he devours you wholly. his mouth teases you all over, licking and sucking you as you grip the bedsheets with white knuckles.

after what seems like forever he stops, and you whine from the loss of contact as he crawls up your body. you look down and you can see that he’s still rock hard, his cock red and angry.

“that’s enough, princess. i gotta fuck you now.”

“please, joe.” you beg, scratching your nails down his back. his large hands grip your hips and roll you over, and you arch your back as his hands pull your hips into the air. he teases you with the tip for a few seconds before sliding into you fully.

“fuuuuuuuuuuck.” you draw out, your hands fisting the sheets again. joe stays still, but his large right hand comes down hard on your ass, a loud crack sounding through the room. you hiss at the contact and squeeze around him.

joe pulls back fully before gripping your hips and slamming into you again, his pace immediately rough. your moans and cries reverberate through the room as joe slams his hips into you. he watches your ass bounce against him as he fucks you from behind, the sight enough to make him cum almost immediately.

your fingers find your clit as joe continues fucking you, and you rub tight circles over it as joe works you to the edge. “i’m close, joey.” you warn, and he smacks your ass again as he nails you with a particularly hard thrust. that’s all it takes to send you toppling over the edge, your orgasm rushing over your body, heating your skin as if you’d been soaked in hot water or coated in hot wax.

joe cums soon after, you can feel the hot white strands painting your insides as his fingers bruise your hips from their strong grip. he pulls out and you wince, rolling over as you watch him plop down next to you. neither of you say a word for a few minutes, you need to catch your breath. your eyes are heavy, but joe makes a sudden movement that startles you.

he goes back down to the foot of the bed, positioning himself between your legs again as he begins to pull off one of your stockings.

“what’re you doing?” you ask him, his mouth trailing slow kisses up your ankle and calf. “look at all this stuff you’re still wearing,” he says, planting a kiss to your inner thigh. “i only got your panties off.”

his eyes rake over your heat again as he watches his cum drip from your swollen cunt. “i’m not anywhere close to finished unwrapping you yet.”

photos and dividers used are not mine. all cred to owners.

taglist: @slimshiesty @starsinthesky5 @joeyburrrow @kykysinlovewithafairytale @burrowdarling @joeyb1989 @loveyatopluto @toterry @unhingedfangirl @superheroprincess22 @burreauxsworld @definitelynotdomanique @samanthamark5 @superstarshitblog @fa1ry03 @wickedfun9 @xbriexx @venic-bxtch @burrowdarling @angels555 @idbe-theman @yelenasbraid @ladyluvduv @joeburrowshaircurl @joeybisbootiful @livinobx @blairsworld22 @jarring-behavior @yomamaslays4lyfe @gazebotori

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p0orbaby · 1 month ago

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Your Turn to Bear the Burden was amazing!

Maybe a part 2 or a blurb with Alexia asking R, "Are you still mad?" And making it up to her by bringing her to one of their daughter's football games and just rubbing it in everyones (shiny hair's) face that they are indeed happily married even with their constant loving bicker

something small that follows on from this

The pitch smells faintly of damp grass and overcooked hot dogs, the kind you find at community sports events, their red plastic wrappers binned but somehow omnipresent in spirit. Alexia holds your hand as you weave through clusters of other parents, her grip firm, almost possessive. You know this isn’t just about Aina’s match. This is about her. About Shiny Hair, who you’ve recently discovered is actually called—of course—Catalina.

You’re here because Alexia asked you to come, her tone as careful as if she were handling a volatile substance. She didn’t have to spell it out. You knew. This wasn’t just a casual Saturday morning family outing. It was an event. A declaration. A parade.

And you’ve made up—well, you’ve reached a state of détente, which is close enough. The argument about Catalina was settled with a lengthy, painstaking conversation at 11:32 p.m. two nights ago, during which Alexia’s “I don’t even like her!” was met with your razor-sharp “Good. Then she’ll be thrilled to know I’ll be coming along to training drop-offs from now on”

“Don’t be weird today,” Alexia mutters under her breath as you approach the sidelines.

“I’m never weird,” you reply, your tone saccharine, squeezing her hand in a way that’s more threatening than reassuring.

The parents’ section is crowded, folding chairs scattered in half-hearted rows, some people standing to get better views of their kids. And there she is—Catalina, of course, already perched in the best spot, laughing at something someone just said. Her hair shines in the morning sun like she’s auditioning for a Pantene ad.

“Did you see? Aina’s already warming up,” Alexia says quickly, drawing your attention back to the pitch, where your daughter is stretching with the kind of seriousness only a six-year-old takes into warm-ups.

“She’s a professional,” you say, watching her. Aina has Alexia’s determination, her unrelenting focus, and probably her taste for grudges, too. You love that about her.

Alexia stands beside you, taller, proud, her other hand shoved in her jacket pocket. She’s wearing that cropped burgundy Nike YOON cardigan she’s kept all these years in an attempt to maintain her youth. Though you have to admit, she looks better than anyone here has the right to look, which you suspect is deliberate.

“You’re staring,” she says, without looking at you.

“You like when I stare at you”

“I do,” she admits, glancing at you briefly, a triumphant smirk tugging at her lips.

The game kicks off, and the next twenty minutes are a chaotic blur of small children running with alarming intensity. Aina, predictably, is everywhere. The ball seems magnetised to her, and you can’t help but feel that Alexia’s genes are showing off today. She scores twice, both times with a little fist pump that makes your chest ache with pride.

Catalina claps politely. Alexia doesn’t. She cheers, loud and clear, her voice slicing through the sideline chatter like a knife. “¡Bien, Aina! ¡Muy bien!” She throws an arm around your waist as she says it, pulling you in close. You’re not sure if it’s for your benefit or Catalina’s, but you let her have it.

At half-time whistle, Alexia makes a point of leaning in to kiss you She keeps it casual, but the timing is far too perfect to be anything but calculated. Catalina looks over. Alexia doesn’t notice—or pretends not to. You, of course, do.

“Subtle,” you say as she hands you a paper cup of coffee she must’ve queued for while you weren’t paying attention. Or burning holes into Shiny Hairs head.

“Why would I be subtle?” Alexia replies, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’re my wife”

Catalina drifts closer during the second half, probably to position herself nearer to the action on the pitch, but you can feel her presence lingering. When Aina scores her third goal, Catalina lets out a low whistle.

“She’s incredible,” Catalina says, beaming at Alexia as if she wasn’t the one who taught your daughter how to feint past a defender.

“She gets it from her mothers,” you say, smiling sweetly. Alexia’s hand finds the small of your back, and you’re almost certain she’s trying not to laugh.

When the game ends, Alexia spends twenty minutes chatting with Aina’s coach, with her arm slung over your shoulders the entire time. It’s less a conversation and more a public exhibition of marital bliss.

In the car, Aina babbles from the backseat about how she’s the best on her team, and Alexia sneaks a glance at you, her expression softer now, almost shy.

“Still mad?” she asks, knowing full well your annoyance with her lasts as long as a sugar cube in water.

You take your time answering, watching the houses blur past the window. “No,” you say eventually, “but next game, I expect you to wear a shirt with my face on it. Maybe one that says, ‘She’s my wife, and she’s always right.’”

“Always right?” she echoes, and you notice a slight lift of her eyebrows under her sunglasses.

“Always,” you reply, deadpan. “That’s non-negotiable”

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #woso #woso x reader

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ovaryacted · 2 months ago

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JAGGED EDGE

─ QZ Joel Miller x f! reader || WC: 900

CW: MDNI/18+. NSFW. Age gap implied. Possible dub-con. Rough sex. Degradation. Dom! Joel. Dom/sub elements. Hair pulling. Daddy kink. Joel is a meanie & a big scary man. Ambiguous/toxic relationship.

A/N: This is literally something I wrote and typed out based off of this singular picture that was shown to me. I had to do this, for the people! Proofread by moi.

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3

Joel was pissed.

Coming back to the QZ with less supplies than he’d like had him on edge, a shit deal led to two less bullets in the magazine of his gun. A waste of his time, a waste of his energy and whatever fucking else he managed to have left in this dying world.

The parasitic things around him continue to take, and take, and take until he’s a dog fighting for scraps again. He’s already worked for the current rations he has, bribed or killed for the rest, did whatever he had to do just to get by and ignore the stench of rotting bodies he has to dig up and burn. He’s already dealing with enough, he doesn’t need to lose any more of what he had.

At least he had you.

Steady. Solid. Real. The only constant in his world, something so tucked away from other people's grasp they couldn’t tell the difference between their Joel and your Joel. He holds you at arm’s length, just close enough to let you touch him, but far enough to consider you an outsider, another survivor amongst the rest of the poor unfortunate souls that seek purpose with death creeping around every corner.

Though the moments where he grants you closeness, you don’t take it for granted.

Pliant. Malleable. All for him to have and to hold. You’ve come to learn that Joel was a naturally rough man, all of him was. You can’t blame him, he was a product of the losses that haunts him in his nightmares, slowly chipping away at his wavering humanity one death at a time. A predator with razor sharp teeth containing a bite full of jagged edges. You just happened to fit the role of his prey, a lamb that has ventured too far from the herd, ensnared in his grip with no way out. Not that you’d ever want to leave.

His molars grind in his mouth as he growls from behind you, the pistoning of his hips filling the dingy apartment with an audible slap of skin. Large hands kept you pinned by the neck underneath him against the tattered mattress, your nails digging into the comforter as Joel pummeled into the arch of your back. Every brutal thrust he gave you sent you inching higher up on the bed, spine curved to keep your ass high in the air, right where he could see you at your best.

The glistening skin of your pussy wrapped tight around him, clutching at his cock every time he slipped out just to punch back into you with a snarl, your body wishing to keep him inside for as long as he allowed. His heavy balls slammed into your pulsing nub with each resounding drill of his hips, amplifying the sensations and sending you closer to your impending release.

Joel fucks without mercy, his touch as ragged as the rest of him. But this was your Joel, and you loved him in any way he came, in any way he’d allow. After all, you weren’t given any other option.

“Joel, please…” your gasp was followed by a moan, eyes rolling to the back of your skull when the tip of his length kissed your cervix with precision. You shrieked as your head was quickly yanked backward, thick digits pulling on the strands of your hair, now wrapped around an iron fist.

“Please what, hm? What does my fucking slut need from me this time?” He bit harshly beside your ear, the tone of his sharp voice forcing your walls to clench around him.

“I need to cum,” you cried out meekly, his unforgiving pace had your eyes fluttering, wishing you could look at Joel at this angle, but he wouldn’t let you get more than what he decided was enough. He tugged at your head harder, the pain rushing to your sensitive nub between your thighs, throbbing from his intensity.

“What you need is to take what I give you. You fucking got that?” Joel muttered next to your temple, your heart pounding in your ribcage at his command.

“Yes.” Another forceful jerk to his body made you jolt, deepening the curve of your back.

“Yes what?” The gears in your head began to turn, finding the right words in the back of your mind to avoid pissing him off any further.

“Yes daddy.”

He slams you back down to the mattress with a groan, grabbing hold of your hips and fucking into you with such force you know you’ll be left with an ache in your pelvis afterwards. You know he doesn’t mean to be so aggressive, that’s just who he is, it’s within his nature. You understand him despite others viewing him as anything but human. A man with so much blood on his hands shouldn’t have the ability to make you cry for him, to make your body sing and crave him when he deserves nothing of the sort.

Yet when the textured tips of his fingers reach your slick pearl to circle it with intention, sparks fly under your eyelids and you spill around him with a loud wail of his name, tears stinging the corner of your eyes as you fall apart. You’d consider it an act of kindness on his end, the only time you’d ever think the man, or any man, touched you with such reverence.

He’s rough all around, but perhaps you’ve always liked them that way.

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedrohub #ovaryacted drabbles #⋆♱ nic works ♱⋆

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jamesmcalover · 2 months ago

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we did not die that night

Simon Kalivoda x afab!reader

Warnings: (maybe slight angst???) fluff, oral sex

Summary: Reader walks in on Simon wanking in the bathroom that night.

3.7k words - not proofread!

"Sorry! I'm sorry!" I yelled, my hands quickly shielding my eyes from the very naked body of my friend. Not only was he naked, he was clearly enjoying himself before I burst into the boys' bathroom. I was definitely not expecting someone wanking in there, to be fair. Feeling my cheeks flush, I walked back outside, shutting the door and waited until it was safe for me to go in again. A shaky breath escaped my lungs and I found myself pacing a few steps in front of the bathroom. That was weird, I thought, such an interesting time to wank. Was he turned on by that weird chick that tried to murder him with a razor blade? He said she was hot...

I looked into the empty and dark hallway of the school. It made me sick and uncomfortable standing in it all alone. Before I could panick, Simon was shouting for me.

"You can come in now!" His voice sounded muffled through the heavy door. As I pushed it open again – much slower this time – his eyes found mine. He looked embarrassed, which was weird. Simon was never embarrassed about anything. That boy was an open book.

"I'm really sorry," I said, "I should've knocked." He was wearing a blue knitted cardigan now, it probably smelled a bit musty from laying in the lost-and-found box for such a long time, but it looked pretty on him. Much better than the sweaty shirt he was wearing two days in a row that had Sam's blood on it and almost got him killed.

"It's alright. I didn't really pick the best place," he replied with a small grin. There he was again.

"I'd tell you that I haven't seen anything but I kinda did... see everything." My voice became smaller, much quieter, saying the last words. I had embarrassed him again, his big blue eyes were filled with guilt and I was desperate to loosen the uncomfortable tension in the room.

"But we might die tonight, so... you won't have to worry about that," I said. He laughed.

We did not die that night.

Sam died – for a few minutes at least – but she came back to life and all of us were questioned by the police. They didn't believe us, but they never do, do they?

A few days passed before we returned to school, back to the place where we'd tried to kill those monsters. Almost no trace of that night remained. The floors were spotless, no sign of Sam's blood, and the classroom door destroyed by the axe had already been replaced. Only the girls' bathroom was still barricaded. I didn't even want to imagine what it looked like on the inside.

Walking by the bathrooms, I wondered if Simon still thought about me bursting in on him mid-masturbation sometimes. Because I did. I tried forgetting, but the images didn't seem to fade. Everytime I closed my eyes, I saw his hand gripping his thick cock, moving up and down frantically. His head thrown back, his blonde locks slightly bouncing, mouth hanging open, panting.

I wouldn't admit it, but I had caught myself fantasising about it from time to time. I had thought about his cock in class once, it wasn't huge, but it wasn't small either. It was thick, though, and I wondered how it would feel in my hand, or my mouth even, my tongue dancing on his tip until he came on it. I wondered how his cum would taste like, what sounds me might make when he came.

When I snapped back into reality, I was praying to God no one near me was secretly able to read my mind – I wasn't even religious but I shouldn't think like that, Simon is my friend, nothing more.

I hadn't really seen him the past week. He came back to school a few days later because of an a stab wound to his stomach he'd suffered in the store that night, so I hadn't had the chance – or maybe the courage – to talk to him about what happened. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to. Of if he did.

At lunch, I quickly spotted him talking to Deena as they got their food. A band-aid covered the cut on his neck, and his lip was still a bit swollen from when he hit the ground. He probably felt badass walking down the school corridors looking like that, telling people he'd almost been brutally stabbed but managed to escape and survive.

Deena was barely hurt that night, which was unfair given she'd dragged us all into this mess. Maybe it was harsh of me to say, but if it weren't for her, I wouldn’t have been there, nearly sliced in half, all because she crashed that Sunnyvaler's car.

And to top it off, she still managed to pull Sam. I had been avoiding her, though I doubted she'd noticed. It felt as if I was made of air.

I saw Simon looking around, scanning the cafeteria, but his eyes never found mine.

A loud thud from the locker beside me made me jump, my heart leaping into my throat. It didn't take much to scare me anymore – I startled at every little noise. I turned to see Simon grinning, his usual cocky self.

"Jesus, you scared the shit out of me, shit face" I said, now relieved it was only him.

"Sorry." He said, though he wasn't. He loved scaring me. His grin widened. "Have you been avoiding me?"

"Not really." I hugged the book tighter, trying not to meet his gaze.

"You sure about that?" His tone was teasing, but there was something else there, just under the surface. When I finally met his eyes, images from that night in the bathroom started flooding my mind again. face went hot, and I was pretty sure my cheeks turned slightly red. I hoped he wouldn't notice.

"Yeah, I've just been... processing?" It sounded more like a question than a real answer.

Simon raised an eyebrow. "Processing what?" I frowned. What did he think I was trying to process?

"You know... almost getting murdered. Watching my friends almost get murdered. All that stuff."

His grin faded, replaced by something softer. For a moment he seemed like he wanted to say something serious, but instead, he leaned against the locker and shurgged. "I guess we didn't die, though."

I let out a small chuckle at his reference to what I said after I caught him. "Guess not." I said. "Do you still think about it?"

I didn't know if I meant the blood and slaughter or me seeing him wank. I was probably thinking about the latter more at this point.

"I try not to but... y'know. It's all in my head." He said. I hummed, not sure which question he gave me an answer to.

Later that night, I tossed around in my bed. It was too early to sleep, but I hated being awake. Sleep was the only escape from reality I had left – everything else made me think about what happened.

After thirty minutes of failed attempts to fall asleep, I gave up. I got up, dressed again, and brushed my hair, which had become tangled from all the tossing and turning. It was just after six, and my parents weren’t even home yet. Simon must still be at work, too, I thought.

Grabbing my keys, I stepped out of the house and wandered slowly along the streets toward the grocery store he worked at. Being alone in the streets still scared me sometimes, but it wasn’t a long walk.

The store also showed no signs of undead zombie killers. It was as if nothing had ever happened there.

As i rounded a corner into the isle, where sam had been lying dead, I came face-to-face with Simon, who looked at me in surprise.

"Y/N, I didn't expect to see you here!" He exclaimed, his voice enthusiastic but slightly higher-pitched than usual.

"I couldn't sleep," I said, my voice sounding flatter than I insisted. "Thought I'd come bother you instead."

Simon smirked, leaning on the cart he'd been pushing. "I'm always down to be bothered." But his eyes showed concern. "Are you okay though?"

I shrugged, running my fingers over the keys in my pocket. "Are any of us?"

He didn't answer right away, and for a second, the hum of fluorescent lights above us felt too loud. Finally, he said, "I get off in half an hour. Do you want me to walk you home?"

I smiled up at him. I never realised how pretty his eyes were and how cute his slightly crooked teeth made him look. "Sure. Thank you," I said.

"Wanna help me stock shelves until i'm off? It's mind-numbing, but at least you won't think about... you know." He handed me one of the cereal boxes from his cart. I hesitated but nodded. Mind-numbing sounded exactly like what I needed.

We quickly went from stocking the shelves in silence to goofing around and avoiding work until his shit ended. For a little while, it felt like things were back to normal—no awkwardness, no heaviness hanging over us. I realized how much I’d missed that.

The walk home was quieter again, but not uncomfortably so. I laughed at his bad jokes and half-hearted attempts to cheer me up.

"Thanks for walking me home," I said as we reached my door. The empty driveway implied that my parents were still at work. They worked late shifts almost every day, so the house would be dark and silent, as always.

Simon smiled. "No problem. It’s what I'm here for, right? Keeping you out of trouble."

I laughed softly, my hand lingering on the doorknob. The thought of going inside alone suddenly felt unbearable.

"Hey," I said before I could second-guess myself. "Do you want to come in? Just for a bit?"

He raised an eyebrow teasingly. "You sure? I thought your whole thing was avoiding me."

I rolled my eyes. "I wasn't avoiding you." His grin told me he didn't believe me, but I pressed on. "Anyway, my parents won't be home for a while, and I'm not ready to sit in there by myself yet."

His expression softened, and he nodded. "Alright. Lead the way, then."

As I pushed the door open and stepped into the quiet house, I realized how much I needed the company.

I led him into my bedroom and sat on my bed, as he stood awkwardly in the middle of my room, unsure of where to sit.

I let out a snort. "You can sit on my bed, Simon. You won't get cooties," I teased as I scooted further back until my back rested against the wall. Simon smirked and plopped down at the foot of my bed, sitting crisscrossed and facing me.

"Aren't you mad?" I finally asked after a few seconds of silence between us. Simon looked at me confused. "At Deena, I mean."

"Not really. Why? Are you?" He asked me and I took a deep breath, not knowing how to answer.

"Yeah."

Simon's eyebrows lifted slightly, but he didn't say anything right away. He just watched me, waiting for me to explain.

"I mean… none of this would've happened if it weren't for her," I said, my voice low. "She's the one who crashed the car. She's the one who dragged us into all of this. And now…" I trailed off, struggling to put the tangled mess of my feelings into words. "I can’t stop thinking about what happened. What could've happened."

Simon nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. "I get that," he said. "But… I don't know. Deena didn't exactly want this to happen, you know? She was just trying to help Sam. I guess if I'm mad at anyone, it's… those things. The witch."

"Yeah, well, you can't yell at undead monsters," I muttered.

Simon gave me a small, lopsided smile. "True. But you can yell at me if it helps."

I couldn’t help but laugh, even as my chest tightened. "I won’t."

"Okay, but seriously," he said, his tone softening. "You've got every right to be mad, but don’t let it eat you up. You survived, Y/N. That’s what matters, right?"

"You're right," I said, picking at the dry skin on my fingers until it peeled off. "I just don't understand why everyone pretends like nothing ever happened."

"People rather forget than face their trauma," Simon replied softly.

I hummed in response and lay down, the side of my face pressing against the cool pillow. Simon stayed seated at the foot of the bed, watching me.

"Can I ask you something?" I heard myself mumble. "You don't have to answer." He nodded.

"Why did you... wank? Why in the middle of all that mess?"

Simon’s eyes locked onto mine, his gaze intense. He didn’t look embarrassed about it anymore. He paused for a moment before speaking.

"I guess it was the adrenaline? I don't know, I think I was trying to feel normal. Everything was so messed up, and I just wanted one thing that made sense, you know?"

I blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. I hadn't actually expected him to explain, let alone like this.

"I don't know if that makes sense," he added, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"It does," I said softly.

I patted the empty space next to me, inviting him to lie down beside me. The bed slightly bounced as his back hit the soft mattress. He looked up at the ceiling, his eyes darting restlessly as though they were trying to take in everything at once, never still. His hair was falling from his face, soft blonde curls pooling on on my pillow.

I reached my hand out in his direction slowly until it was in his hair. He closed his eyes as I twisted his strands around my fingers. "What are you thinking about?" I asked after a long silence.

Simon’s lips quirked up in a small smile. "Nothing and everything," he said.

His body shifted, turning to face mine. I felt his breath on my face, only inches between us now. My hand was still in his hair, but it didn't move anymore, just rested there. His Eyes roamed across my face, studying me like he was memorizing every little detail.

"What are you doing?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

He didn't answer right away. Instead, his gaze lingered on my lips before flicking back to meet my eyes. "Looking," he said quietly. "You're hard to read, you know that?"

I swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of the way my heart pounded in my chest. "What are you trying to read?"

Simon's lips curved into the faintest smile. "Everything you’re not saying."

I slowly leaned forward, my heart pounding in my chest, until I felt his shaky breath on my lips. I hesitated for a second, giving him the chance to pull away if he wanted to. But he didn’t.

Closing the small gap between us, my lips brushed against his in a gentle kiss. It was soft, and over before I had the chance to overthink it.

When I pulled back, his eyes fluttered open, searching mine. The corners of his mouth twitched into a big smile before he leaned over to kiss me again. I felt his hand brushing away a strand of hair, then rest on my cheek. He pushed me on my back, slightly hovering over me now. My hands found his neck, buried in his hair once again. The second kiss was heated, fast and left me breathless.

"Fuck," I breathed when Simon pulled away for a second, only to cover my neck in kisses now. I inhaled sharply, as I had not expected that, but I wasn't irritated.

"Simon," I murmured, my voice a mix of surprise and something I couldn't quite name.

His lips paused against my skin, and he lifted his head just enough to meet my gaze. For a second, the intensity in his eyes made it hard to breathe.

"Is this okay?" He asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

I nodded, my hands sliding down to rest on his shoulders. "Yeah," I whispered.

A flicker of relief crossed his face before his lips found mine again, in a short, sweet kiss, before they returned to my neck. His hands were roaming over hips, my stomach and my breasts, leaving a squeeze from time to time.

My hands slid down to his torso, gripping him as I pulled him closer. He shifted, his weight pressing against me until he was fully on top, and I could feel his boner on my hip through his pants. The images of him with his cock exposed came back and suddenly, I was hungry.

I pushed him off of my body and climbed on his, kissing him hard while I fiddled with his belt.

"Is this okay?" I asked him in between kisses and he looked at me with his big blue eyes.

"Fuck, yes," he replied. I quickly unbuttoned his pants and pulled them off of him. It was only covered by the thin fabric of his unterwear now. I ignored the urge to touch him for a second, as I pushed his shirt up and motioning for him to take it off. He was now only wearing his socks and underwear, and I was still fully clothed. Simon pulled at the hem of my shirt, so I let him take it off, his eyes found my chest immediately. I was wearing a white bra with tiny cherries on it and usually, I would've been embarrassed, but it was different with Simon. I didn't have to be embarrassed by anything with him.

I let my hands roam over his chest briefly, before they disappeared in his briefs. He threw his head back into the pillows immediately and let out a quiet moan.

He looked like I had remembered, only laying down this time, and with my hand on his dick, instead of his own.

I moved the briefs down a little, pulling him out. His cock looked even better up close, the veins decorating it made my mouth water. I leaned my head down and thickly licked the underside of his shaft. Simon's head basically shot up to look at me.

"Fuck," he whispered, his thumb was rubbing my cheek slightly, before he buried his hand in my hair. I could feel his grip tighten with every up and down, his breath became shorter and shorter, moans and groans louder.

"Fuck, Y/N, I-" He came in my mouth, the thick and salty substance felt weird on my tongue, but not unpleasant. I quickly swallowed it and licked his tip clean before pulling of. Drool was running down my chin. I wiped it on the back of my hand. Simon's breathing was quick, his eyes heavy as he looked at me. He took my hand into his and pulled me forward so I'd lie on him, and planted a short kiss on my lips.

"That was fucking hot," he said and I let out a chuckle at that.

"I'm glad you liked it," I said with a smirk. He put a strand of hair behind my ear gently, looking at me with tender eyes, before pushing me down to lie on the mattress. I looked at the ceiling as I felt his lips and tongue explore my body, his hands gripping everything they possibly could.

He opened my pants and I lifted my hips to help him pull them off together with my panties. I quickly got rid of my bra in that process as well. Simon paused. He looked at my body, taking in every tiny detail, as if he was scared he would forget what I had looked like. I felt pretty under his gaze. His hands found my boobs again, brushing over my hard nipples. They wandered down, his left hand stopping at my hips, his right going further down, stopping at my public bone. He looked up to me, seeing me nod, before scooting his body further down between my legs to be at eye-level with my most private part of my body.

I felt him let out a short breath, as his finger moved between my folds, feeling how wet I was because of him. "Fuck," I heard him whisper. I let my head fall into my pillows. They smelled like his hair now and I tried to inhale that smell while his tongue met my clit and I let out a shaky moan.

"Oh God," I said, his tongue dancing around in the wetness of my cunt. My hands were in his hair – probably their favourite place to be in – pulling his locks, trying to get him closer as I was coming with a loud whine.

The orgasm hit me so intensely that my vision went blurry for a second, and I had to regulate my breathing.

"Was that good?" Simon asked me, now lying next to me with his hands found in my hair, stroking it slightly. I looked at him like he was crazy. My juices still glistened on his chin.

"That was probably the best orgasm I've ever had," I told him truthfully as I wiped his chin with the corner of my blanked that was now covering our naked bodies. Simon grinned proudly at me.

"I'm glad we didn't die that night," I said after a moment of silence. He smiled at me and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

"And I'm glad you caught me masturbating." I let out a loud laugh, slightly shoving his shoulder.

"Idiot."

Simon grinned big at me an laid his head on my chest. "I think we should start going out." He said while his fingers fiddled with a loose thread on my blanket.

I smiled softly. "Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?"

"Not yet, I want to take you on a date first."

"I'd like that," I said, gently caressing his back with one hand and stroking his head with the other.

#fred hechinger #simon kalivoda #fred hechinger x you #fred hechinger fanfic #fred hechinger x reader #simon kalivoda x reader #simon kalivoda x you #fear street #fear street part 1: 1994 #gladiator ii #gladiator 2

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