#go watch the full thing if you haven’t seen it

[onechicagolife]

ABSENTIA | JAY HALSTEAD

Detective Jay Halstead is a senior member of the Intelligence Unit, where he is partnered with Detective Hailey Upton after his former partner went missing undercover. While he never wanted to give up hope, the CPD assumed her dead and he was resigned to accept it. Now, two years later, Jay gets a sudden phone call with news that changes his life forever. Avery Clarke is alive. want to be tagged? link in bio <3

Chapter 15

Jay rounds the corner to his apartment, exhaustion weighing down his movements as he drags a hand down his face. The last few nights have blurred together—hours spent in his truck with Avery, watching and waiting. They haven’t seen Nikolai again since that first night, which he’s not sure is a good or bad thing. Bad for their investigation, yes. But he couldn’t deny Avery’s reaction when she saw him for the first time. The way she completely froze, her shoulders tensing and her breaths quickening.

The cruelest part was that when Jay asked about it, she refused to tell him anything. And that every time he looks at her, he still feels everything. Being with her feels overwhelmingly familiar, too much like how it used to be. Because she sits back in the seat with her feet thrown up, she steals his coffee without thinking. She pushes his buttons, challenges him in the best and worst ways.

He knows he shouldn’t be spending so much time with her. He tells himself that he has to, even though he knows it’s not fair to Hailey. Knows it’s wrong that every night, as he sits in the freezing car with Avery, he doesn’t want to leave. That despite the anger, the confusion, the betrayal—he feels more like himself than he has in a long time.

Pulling his keys from his pocket, Jay lifts his head and his stomach drops. Hailey is leaning against the wall outside his door, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her ponytail sways slightly as she straightens at the sight of him, and the look on her face—anger barely concealing hurt—makes his breath hitch. Dinner.

He exhales sharply, quickening his steps as guilt settles heavy in his chest, “Shit, Hailey, I’m sorry.”

Her expression doesn’t change. “I called you,” Hailey says flatly.

His fingers tighten around his keys, “My phone died.” Lie. He turned it off.

She scoffs, shaking her head as she pushes off the wall. He sees the way her eyes glisten under the dim hallway light, the way her jaw tenses as she turns to leave. Panic flares in his chest. “Wait.” He reaches out, catching her wrist gently, just enough to stop her, “Just… come inside. Please.”

Hailey hesitates. For a second, he thinks she’s going to walk away. Maybe she should. Maybe he should let her.

Reluctantly, her feet stay rooted in place as he unlocks the door and opens it. He stands in the doorway, waiting for her with hopeful eyes. After a few moments, and against her better judgement, she steps inside.

Jay closes the door behind them, lingering for a second before he turns to face her. He barely gets his jacket off before she whirls on him.

“Where have you been?”

His shoulders sag. He should have known she’d cut right to it. “I’m sorry I forgot about dinner,” he says weakly, knowing full well that it isn’t good enough.

“That’s not an answer,” her voice rises slightly, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “You’ve been blowing me off all week. You disappear after work, you don’t answer my calls or texts. You come in every morning looking like you haven’t slept. What the hell is going on with you?”

Jay rubs a hand over his face, already exhausted by this conversation. “I’m—”

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” she cuts him off harshly. “And don’t say you’ve been with Voight.” Hailey takes a deep breath, her anger cracking just slightly under something more vulnerable. Her voice is quieter as she forces out the next words, “Just tell me if you were with Avery.”

He hesitates. It’s only for a second, but it’s enough to make her eyes harden. “It’s not what you think,” Jay says quickly, trying to reassure her that he would never.

She crosses her arms tighter, her nails digging into her skin. She didn’t think he was cheating, not really. She knows him well enough to know that. “Then what is it?”

His jaw clenches. He doesn’t know what to say. He knows she deserves to hear the truth, but he can’t bring himself to say it. “Hailey,” he swallows, “I can’t.”

“That’s bullshit,” she snaps, her voice rising again. “You don’t get to pull the ‘I can’t talk about it’ card with me. I’m your partner, Jay. I’m your girlfriend. You’re shutting me out, and I deserve to know why.”

His mind races, eyes desperately searching her face for some—any—hint of understanding. “I can’t tell you,” Jay settles on with a helpless half-shrug. “You just have to trust me.”

“Trust you?” Hailey laughs—a bitter, broken sound—and narrows her eyes. “Do you even hear yourself?” When he doesn’t say anything, it only takes a few moments before realization washes over her. She lets out a disbelieving breath, “You’ve been helping her investigate Volkov.”

The way Jay tightens his jaw and clenches his hands into fists at his sides is confirmation enough.

“Jesus, Jay,” she shakes her head with a scoff. Hailey starts pacing, running both hands over her hair. “Do you even realize what you’re doing? You’re putting your career—your life—on the line.”

“I’m not putting my life on the line,” he says defensively.

“You’re lying to me,” she yells at him. “You’re lying to Voight. You’re impeding a federal investigation. All for her.”

Jay flinches at her words, guilt and anger swirling in his chest. “It’s not that simple. She’s my—” he cuts himself off, the words dying in his throat. He swallows hard as the air between them thickens. They both know what he was about to say. She’s my partner.

Hailey stares at him, something breaking in her expression. She squares her shoulders, trying to hold herself together even as her voice wavers. “You know, I’ve tried to be supportive. I’ve tried to be understanding. But I’m not going to sit here while you lie to my face. I’m not going to sit here and pretend.”

He blinks, knowing that this conversation is going somewhere he doesn’t want, but he can’t stop it. “Pretend?”

She exhales shakily, bringing up a hand to quickly swipe away the tears she is so stubbornly trying to keep at bay. “You were shot,” her voice trembles slightly, but she forces it to steady. “You were laying there, and I was holding your hand. You said her name.” She closes her eyes as the memories wash over her. “I tried to convince myself that I heard it wrong. But I didn’t. And I know that you know I heard it. And you still haven’t explained why.”

The air seems to leave the room, and for a moment, Jay can’t bring himself to look at her. His mind flashes back to that moment. His throat tightens as he finally meets her gaze. “Because I couldn’t stop thinking about her,” he admits even as it kills him, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t stop thinking about her.”

The words hang heavy between them, and Hailey’s breath hitches. She blinks rapidly, trying to process what he just said. “So, what? You’re still in love with her?”

Jay inhales sharply at the question. He wants to tell her no. He wants to tell her he loves her, that she’s the one he wants. But he can’t. “I don’t know,” he says finally, his voice breaking. “But I know she needs me right now and I can’t…” I can’t leave her. I can’t say no to her. I can’t let her be alone again. “I have to help her.”

Hailey nods slowly, like she expected that answer but hoped she was wrong. “I love you, Jay,” she whispers, her face crumbling as fresh tears well in her eyes. “And I thought—” she stops herself, shaking her head as a tear slips down her cheek. She doesn’t bother wiping it away.

His chest tightens, heartbeat pounding loudly in his head, “Hailey, I care about y—”

“Don’t,” she cuts him off, stepping back. “You can’t have both.”

The words cut deep. Jay opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He doesn’t want to hurt her. He never wanted to hurt her. But he can’t lie anymore. To himself, maybe. But not to her.

Her lips tighten into a thin line as she tilts her head, nodding slowly. “I’m done.”

He doesn’t stop her as she turns and walks toward the door, her footsteps echoing in the quiet apartment. He can’t bring himself to, no matter how much he wishes he could. When the door clicks shut behind her, the sound feels final as it echoes throughout the apartment.

Jay sinks onto the couch, elbows braced on his knees as his head falling into his hands. He knows Hailey had every right to walk away. He can’t even blame her. And he’s left wondering how the hell he got here.

After hesitating for just a moment, Jay walked towards Voight’s office. He stopped in the open doorway, eyes bouncing between his sergeant and the other man in the room. His hands clenched so tightly where they hung at his sides that his knuckles ached. He had been called in without much explanation—just a simple order to come in from Voight. The urgency in his voice made his stomach churn with unease. And now, seeing Chief Lugo standing beside the desk Voight sat behind made his pulse quicken unnaturally.

“Jay,” Voight started gruffly. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something dark, something resigned. “Take a seat.”

“I’m good.” His bosses exchanged a wary glance. Jay narrowed his eyes, “What’s going on?”

Voight didn’t speak at first, just cast another look towards the chief before sighing heavily. He opened a manila folder in front of him and pushed it forward on the desk.

Jay took a step and a half forward. Inside was a single, grainy photograph that made his stomach twist violently. It was a surveillance shot—a woman being dragged into a warehouse by two armed men. The image was blurry, the lighting terrible, but the height, the build, the hair—it was all too familiar. “Where did this come from?” he demanded.

Lugo spoke this time, his voice even, measured. “The FBI received this from one of their sources inside the Volkov organization. The timestamp places it three months ago.”

His breath stilled. Three months ago. Avery had already been missing for six. That meant she wasn’t killed on the spot like everyone else feared—she was taken alive. She was out there. Jay forced himself to focus, pulling himself away from the memories of that day. That day when he was too late. “So, what the hell are we doing sitting here? We finally have a lead, we go after it—”

Lugo held up a hand, stopping him cold. “The intel didn’t stop there.”

His heart pounded as Lugo flipped to the next page in the folder.

Unidentified female remains recovered from a Volkov warehouse overseas. Burned beyond recognition. No DNA match found.

Jay shook his head, immediately rejecting it. “No. No, that’s not proof. That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Jay—” Voight started, his voice low.

“No.” He pushed the folder roughly across the desk, breathing hard as his chest tightened. “We’ve been through this before, and every single time, it’s led nowhere. You don’t have a body, you don’t have DNA, you don’t have—”

“The FBI is taking over the investigation into Volkov from Major Crimes. The brass agrees that the evidence is conclusive,” Lugo interrupted, his voice final. “Detective Clarke was likely killed while undercover. The case is being closed.”

The word rang in his ear, and his entire world stopped spinning. Closed. No. No.

He turned to Voight, his eyes pleading. “We don’t… we can’t just stop,” his voice cracked, barely managing to get the words out.

Voight held his gaze for a long moment, and that was when Jay knew. The fight had already been lost. The lines on Voight’s face looked deeper, heavier, and for the first time since Avery disappeared, there was defeat in his eyes. Even after Justin, he still hung onto the hope that his other child was still alive. But that hope was gone.

“It’s over,” Voight said quietly.

No. His breath came in short, shallow bursts, his hands trembling at his sides. Jay shook his head, refusing to accept it. “No. No, you don’t get to decide that. You don’t get to just—just declare her dead without proof.” His voice broke, rage bleeding through the cracks.

“Detective—” Lugo started.

“No, fuck that!” Jay slammed his hands onto the desk, the sound echoing through the office. His entire body was shaking. “You don’t get to make this call! She’s out there, she’s waiting for us to find her, and we’re just—we’re just giving up?” His voice bordered on hysteria as he looked towards Voight in disbelief, “You’re just gonna let this happen? After everything—after Justin? You’re just going to let them give up on her?”

Voight’s breath hitched in his throat as he blinked, barely managing to hold himself together. He never allowed himself to break before, and he won’t do it now. He can’t. Chief Lugo’s jaw tightened as he cut in, “This isn’t giving up, Halstead. This is the reality.”

Jay let out a sharp, bitter laugh, taking a half-step back in a desperate need to distance himself before he lost control. Reality. The word felt like poison in his mouth. Nothing about this felt real. “You don’t know her,” he spat. “You don’t know Avery. She’s a fighter. She wouldn’t just let them—” he stopped himself, unable to say the words. Wouldn’t just let them kill her.

Chief Lugo sighed, straightening, “I understand the nature of your relationship to her. I know this is difficult to hear, but the department is making it official. Detective Clarke is being ruled as killed in the line of duty.”

His breath hitched and he swallowed down the bile rising in his throat. This was it. This was the end. The fight left him all at once. His shoulders sagged, his knees suddenly weak, and for a moment, he thought he might actually collapse. He turned to Voight, his last hope. His voice was wrecked, desperate, “Hank.”

Voight’s face was etched with something almost like guilt. When he finally spoke, it was low and final. “It’s time to let her go.”

Something inside Jay broke. A sound tore from his throat—a ragged, guttural noise of sheer devastation—and he turned sharply, storming out of the office. He didn’t see where he was going. Didn’t feel the burn in his throat, the pressure behind his eyes, the way his chest was imploding in on itself.

All he knew was that he had to get out. Had to breathe. Had to escape the words still ringing in his head, threatening to tear down his entire world.

How the hell is he supposed to let her go? The woman he loved. The only woman he ever loved. She was gone. She couldn’t be gone. Jay picked up speed before bursting through one of the stalls just in time to hunch over the toilet, knees hitting the tile with a painful, sickening crack. His body convulsed as he gripped the porcelain with white-knuckled hands, waves of nausea wracking through him. His stomach clenched painfully, but there was nothing left to bring up. His breath came in ragged gasps, each one sharper than the last. His head was spinning, his vision blurring, the fluorescent lights overhead too bright, too harsh.

He felt like he was suffocating. Drowning.

The stall walls felt like they were closing in, pressing down on him and squeezing the air from his lungs. His entire body trembled as he sat back on his heels, his arms bracing against the sides of the stall. The cold tile bit into his knees, grounding him in a reality he desperately wanted to reject.

Avery was dead.

Voight believed it.

Chief Lugo signed off on it.

Major Crimes, the FBI—they all believed it.

The weight of it crashed down on him again, harder, heavier. A low, guttural sound ripped from his chest, something between a sob and a scream, raw and uncontained.

Six months of searching. Of fighting. Of holding onto hope—thin, fragile, fleeting hope—only for it to be ripped away in an instant.

He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. He couldn’t breathe. Every inhale was a battle, every exhale a painful reminder that he was still here—and she wasn’t.

He could still hear her voice, so clear that it was as if she was sitting right beside him.

Well, it really is your lucky day, Halstead. Avery Clarke. Your new partner.

His throat closed up, another sob tearing through him. A thousand moments, a thousand memories flooded his mind, each one sharper, more painful than the last. He saw her everywhere. Heard her everywhere.

But she was gone.

A sudden burst of anger surged through him, cutting through the grief like a blade. His hands shook as he pushed himself up from the floor, his vision darkening at the edges from the force of his rage.

His fist flew before he could stop it. The bathroom mirror shattered on impact. Glass shards scattered across the counter, some embedding in his knuckles, but he barely felt the sting. His reflection was fractured, fragmented—just like him. He stared at it, his chest heaving, his pulse hammering in his ears as the blood dripped down his fingers, warm and sticky.

This wasn’t real.

This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be real.

The sky is still gray, the Chicago winter settling in thick and heavy as Jay pulls into the district parking lot. His truck rumbles to a stop, the engine ticking in protest as he cuts the ignition. He stays there for a moment, gripping the wheel with both hands, staring blankly at the brick wall in front of him.

He’s running on fumes. The sleepless nights, the weight of Hailey walking out, the relentless gnawing in his chest whenever he thinks about Avery—it’s all catching up to him. His body is sore, barely recovered, and his mind is wrecked. He doesn’t even want to think about what he is going to face when he walks in that building. And yet, somehow, the idea of stopping isn’t even an option.

Not when she still needs him.

With a heavy sigh, he grabs his gym bag from the passenger seat, shoving open the door and stepping into the biting cold. His breath clouds in front of him, but the crisp air does nothing to clear his head. He’s barely made it a few steps when he hears the familiar rumble of another engine pulling in. Jay glances up just as Voight’s black SUV rolls into a nearby spot. The older man climbs out, pulling his coat tighter against the wind, his sharp gaze landing on Jay instantly.

They both hesitate for a beat. A silent acknowledgment.

Jay sighs, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. He knows what’s coming.

“You look like hell,” Voight remarks, shutting his door with a solid thud.

He huffs out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, well… it’s been a rough few weeks.”

Voight studies him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, instead of making his way to the door, he jerks his chin toward the entrance on the other side of the lot. “Walk with me.”

He exhales through his nose, knowing there’s no getting out of this. Jay falls into step beside the older man, their boots crunching lightly against the frost-dusted pavement. The silence stretches, bordering on uncomfortable as the cold air wraps around them.

Jay knows Voight isn’t the kind of guy to push, but when he speaks, his voice is steady, carrying that same unshakable authority he always has. “She told me.”

He doesn’t react right away, treading carefully. He keeps his gaze forward, hands still shoved into his pockets, “About what?”

“About you helping her,” Voight nods slightly. “About the deposit box.”

His jaw tightens. He shouldn’t be surprised but knowing what that secret cost him, that he lied to Hailey, makes his stomach twist in anger. “She wasn’t supposed to—”

“Relax,” Voight cuts him off, his voice calm but firm. “I’m not going to stop you.”

Jay frowns, glancing over at him. “You’re not?”

Voight gives a small shrug, “If I wanted to stop you, I would’ve done it already.”

He scoffs, shaking his head, “Then what? You’re just gonna let me keep breaking all the rules for her?” Maybe he wants Voight to stop them. To force him to walk away. Because he knows he’ll never do it on his own.

Voight stops walking, turning to face him fully and stopping him with a hand on his chest. “I’m here to make sure you don’t lose yourself in this.” His gaze is steady, unwavering. “You’ve been through a lot lately.”

Jay swallows hard, looking away. He exhales sharply, his breaths visible in the cold air. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing anymore, Voight.”

Voight nods, like he’s been expecting that, “I know.”

He lets out a bitter chuckle, running a hand over his face. “I mean, jesus. I thought she was dead. And it took a while, but I made peace with that. And now she’s back, and it’s like—” he stops himself, shaking his head as frustration boils over. “Like I don’t even know her anymore.”

 “She’s been through hell, Jay,” the older man says after a beat of silence, “You know that.”

“What about what I’ve been through? What she put me through?” Jay lets out a sharp exhale, staring at the pavement, trying to keep his emotions under control because it is too damn early for this. “I’m trying to be there for her,” he mutters. “But it’s not that simple.”

“No, it’s not,” he agrees. “But nothing worth a damn ever is.”

Jay stares at him, his eyes dark with something unreadable. “She lied to me.”

“I know.”

“She let me believe she was gone. She didn’t give me a choice. Didn’t give us a choice.”

“I know,” Voight repeats, his voice steady.

Jay shakes his head, “And now she’s asking me to risk everything to help her with this.”

But Voight doesn’t flinch, “She’s not asking you to do anything she wouldn’t do for you.”

“That’s not the point,” he snaps, his frustration finally breaking through. Even though he knows it’s true, knows they’ve already been here before. Derek Keyes, Lonnie Rodiger, Terry, Ellie… She backed his play without question, without a second thought, whenever he needed it. She jumped in feet first, and he didn’t even have to ask. He takes a step back, raking a hand through his hair. “I can’t forgive her for what she did, Voight.”

Voight studies him carefully, his next words measured. “You’re angry. And you should be. But that anger isn’t just about what she did.” He pauses, letting it sink in, “It’s about how much you still care about her in spite of it.”

The heavy truth in the statement is too much and Jay has to look away, clenching his jaw.

“I know what you went through when we lost her,” Voight takes a step towards him. “I saw what it did to you. And I know you’re still carrying that with you. If anyone understands, you know I do.” A haunted look flickers in his eyes, memories of Justin and Alvin threatening to swallow him whole.

Jay swallows hard—two years of emptiness, of staring at an empty grave that shouldn’t exist, of drinking himself into numbness just to get through the night. “She’s not the same,” he murmurs. His voice is quieter now, tinged with something almost vulnerable. “She’s… harder. Colder. She refuses to let me in. And I don’t know how to reach her.”

Voight exhales, nodding slowly. “I know she’s different. And so are you.” He holds his gaze, “But if anyone can get through to her, it’s you.”

Jay lets out a sharp breath, shaking his head, “Why?” Why does it have to be me?

Voight’s voice is unwavering, “Because she trusts you. Because you know her better than anyone.”

Jay stiffens. His throat tightens, his stomach twisting in protest. He wants to argue, wants to deny it. The words are on the tip of his tongue. Not anymore… But they don’t come out. Because maybe, just maybe, Voight isn’t wrong.

He looks down, his hands curling into fists in his pockets, “I don’t know if I can do this, Hank.”

“You can.” His voice is gentler, in that gruff, Voight way as he claps a hand on the younger man’s shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring, “And you will. Because she needs you. And whether you want to admit it or not… you need her too.”

He stands there, frozen, as the words sink in. Jay doesn’t know where he and Avery stand. Doesn’t know if there’s a way forward. But as he watches Voight walk inside the garage, his words echo in his head.

Because she needs you. And you need her too.

Jay exhales, his breath shaky. Then, finally, he heads inside.

The locker room is quiet, a stark contrast to the usual chaos of the district. Jay leans against the metal bench, head tilted back against the cool lockers as he lets out a slow, controlled breath. He should be at his desk. He should be doing something productive, catching up on paperwork. Instead, he’s here, hiding.

Avoiding.

It’s been like this for days. Ever since Hailey left his apartment, ever since their relationship officially crashed and burned. Every second between them is tense and awkward, leaving him wishing he was anywhere else. And when they aren’t forced to be interacting for work, he can feel her gaze watching him. Studying his every move, every interaction. And Avery? That’s been worse.

She hasn’t done anything wrong. No probing questions, no comments, no knowing looks. Nothing. She’s just there, in his space, existing like things are supposed to be normal when nothing is. And even though it shouldn’t, even though he should be more affected by the dooming of his relationship, that kills him more than anything.

Because of that, he’s been keeping his distance at work, making sure their conversations stay short. Professional. But it doesn’t matter. He can feel his partner’s eyes on him whenever Avery’s near, can see the tension ripple through her every time he and Avery so much as breathe in the same direction.

And now? The guilt is suffocating.

So he’s here, in the goddamn locker room, hiding like a coward.

The door creaks open, and he immediately straightens. He’s not sure who he expects, fearing it’ll be Hailey with another conversation he’s not ready for, fearing she’ll tell him that their partnership is over too. But instead, Adam strolls in, his expression casual but his movements deliberate.

“Got a minute?” Adam asks lightly, but there’s an edge behind it.

Jay narrows his eyes, already bracing himself for whatever’s coming. “Yeah.”

Adam doesn’t sit. He stands across from him, arms crossed, lips pressing into a thin line before cutting straight to it. “What’s going on with you and Avery?”

Shaking his head with an eye roll and a scoff, he stands and moves to root around inside his locker. “What are you talking about, man?”

“You drove her to work this morning,” the younger man says with an unimpressed eyebrow raised.

“She had a migraine last night and didn’t want to drive, so I gave her a ride home,” he lies without skipping a beat. The reality is that they left straight from work to spend the night in his truck, watching the warehouse for any sign of Nikolai Volkov, both of them pretending the distance between them wasn’t getting growing with every second of silence.

Adam eyes him, his protective side outweighing anything else. He can’t stand to see his best friend get hurt when she is just barely finding her footing. But he can see how much it’s killing her. He lets out a long sigh, “Look, I get it. I know it must’ve hurt when she wanted me to be her partner and asked for some space. I know you want to be friends. But if this is going to mess with her head—”

“Mess with her head?” Jay cuts him off, his voice rising slightly as he turns to face him. “I don’t need a lecture from you of all people.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asks, annoyed at whatever implication lingers in the air.

Jay tilts his head, gritting his teeth painfully. He wonders just how much he can push this, how far he can stretch the lie in order to get the truth. “She told me what happened between you two,” he says carefully, baiting.

Stiffening, his eyes flicker with surprise for a brief moment before he schools his expression. She said she wasn’t going to, but maybe she changed her mind once he decided to tell Kim, wanting a clean slate as they try to make their relationship work. Adam narrows his eyes, “She told you?”

“Yeah.” His jaw clenches, knowing by the reaction that he was right to suspect something happened between them. “So don’t sit here and act like you’re just her protective big brother.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Adam shakes his head defensively, his frustration mounting.

Jay crosses his arms tightly over his chest, “Then what was it like?”

“It was,” he hesitates, “complicated.”

He throws his head back, barking out a humorless laugh. “Complicated? Kim’s having your kid, and the best you can do is complicated?”

Temper flaring, Adam grits out, “It was one time. It was right after she came back, we were drinking—”

“That makes it better?” he shoots back with a step forward.

“Look,” his patience snaps, voice rising, “she needed someone. Someone who actually gave a damn about her when she was falling apart. Where the hell were you?”

The words nearly knock him off his feet, and Jay stops breathing for a moment. His hands curl into fists, because he can’t think about that. He can barely stomach the guilt he is already feeling. So instead, he focuses on the pure anger that threatens to overtake him at the image that flashes behind his eyes. “So, you—what? Decided to help her with your dick?”

Adam’s face darkens, his fists twitching at his sides. “Oh, fuck off, Halstead. You weren’t there. You didn’t see how broken she was seeing that you moved on.” His voice lowers, but the intensity remains. “So yeah, I was there for her. Not for some hookup. Not for whatever bullshit you think this is. But because I actually care about her. And maybe if you weren’t lying to yourself, wrapped up in your own guilt, you’d see that too.”

The jealousy, the frustration, the anger—it all collides, white-hot and uncontrollable as the words are like a match to gasoline. Jay doesn’t think. His fist collides with Adam’s jaw before he even realizes it. The impact reverberates through his arm, fingers flexing at the dull ache already forming.

Adam stumbles back, his hand flying to his face. His eyes blaze with fury as he whirls back around. “Bro, what the fuck is wrong with you?” he shouts, shoving the other man’s chest roughly.

“Hey!” Avery’s voice slices through the air, her footsteps echoing as she storms into the room. “What the hell is going on in here?”

Both men freeze, their heavy breathing filling the silence as Avery moves between them without hesitation, her eyes darting between their tense, furious faces. Her gaze locks on Jay, narrowing as she takes in the flush on his face and the way his fist is still clenched. “Did you punch him?” she demands sharply.

Jay doesn’t answer, his jaw tightening as he finally breaks away from Adam’s glare. But he can’t look at her, can’t see what he knows is in her waiting eyes.

Already knowing the answer, Avery scoffs before rounding on her partner. “And you—what did you say to him?”

Adam rubs his jaw, moving it back and forth gently. “Nothing he didn’t deserve.”

She groans in frustration, running a hand through her hair, fingers getting caught in the tangles. “Unbelievable. You two are supposed to be professionals, friends, and you’re in here fighting like children. Over what? Me?”

When Adam opens his mouth, she places a strong hand against his chest with a light shove that forces him a half-step back, and Jay tries to hide the fact that he notices. “I don’t need you to defend my honor,” she chastises, only turning away when he lowers his head sheepishly. Avery narrows her eyes at Jay, “What is your problem?”

Jay’s eyes finally snap to hers, his frustration and jealousy lingering below the surface. He grits his teeth, his pulse still pounding with the low hum of adrenaline. He knows this isn’t about Adam. Not really. It’s about… everything. The distance, reminding him that he doesn’t know her anymore. The nights spent in his truck, twisting him into thinking that no time has passed. The way she keeps looking at him like they didn’t leave each other in pieces. Like she didn’t leave him in pieces, shattered like that blood-smeared glass.

Clearing his throat, Adam’s voice is quieter now, more resigned. “I’m gonna go.” He throws Avery one last glance before turning and walking out, his footsteps heavy as the door clicks shut behind him.

Avery doesn’t take her eyes off Jay, her frustration crackling in the stale air. “I told you to stop making this about Adam,” she seethes. “You don’t get to pick fights with him just because you’re pissed at me.”

“You really think this is about Adam?” he asks, voice low and rough as he takes a step toward her. She folds her arms, but there’s something else in her eyes now. Wariness. Hurt. A challenge lingers, though, and Jay huffs out a bitter laugh when she just arches a brow, shaking his head before dragging a hand over his face. “You really don’t get it, do you?

“Then enlighten me,” she bites out quickly. She thought they were over this. That they were moving forward—or at least settling into something more tenable, an understanding that they could co-exist in.

He takes another step closer, the heat between them palpable, the space between them charged with everything they still haven’t said. “You come back from the dead, and you act like I’m the one who changed,” he grits out. “Like I’m the problem. You push me away, tell me we need distance, and then what? Drag me back in like this is some kind of game?”

She flinches, just barely, but it’s enough for him to see it. “You think I planned that?” Avery snaps, stepping toe to toe, pretending like she isn’t afraid. Not of him, no. But of them—the two of them, together. “You think I wanted to wake up in a hospital bed with two years of my life missing?”

His jaw clenches impossibly tight, the pain somehow grounding him. “Then why the hell have you spent every second since you came back acting like I’m the one who left you?” Her breath hitches audibly, but Jay doesn’t stop. He can’t. He’s done holding this in. “You chose Adam as your partner. You kept your distance. It took days for you to come see me when I almost died, and then you just walked out,” he spits out, his voice breaking. “And now you want to act like I’m the bad guy? When I’m still putting everything on the line to help you?”

Deafening silence stretches between them, heavy and suffocating. Her lips press into a tight line, her hands clenching at her sides. “You think this has been easy for me?” she finally whispers, her voice shaking. “I know what I did, the choices I made. But I didn’t choose to have my entire life ripped away from me.”

His chest tightens as tears well in her eyes, “Avery…”

“No, you don’t get to be the victim here,” she says, voice raw, stepping even closer until there’s barely a breath between them. “You didn’t have to wake up in a nightmare. You didn’t have to piece together a past you don’t even remember. You didn’t have to see the man you—” she stops herself, sucking in a shaky breath before continuing. “The man you thought was still yours, standing in the hallway, holding someone else’s hand.”

His throat goes dry at the realization. She saw him. She woke up confused and hurt. And instead of opening her eyes to him at her side, she saw him with Hailey.

“I woke up like it was one day,” Avery’s voice breaks.

His hands tremble at his sides as he swallows roughly, “Ave.”

Her face twists, her walls slamming back into place. “You want to be mad at me? Fine. But don’t you dare pretend like you’re the only one who got hurt.”

Jay looks away, his jaw tight as he forces himself to breathe. She’s right. Of course she’s right. But that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.

“You should go,” she mutters, stepping back in desperate need of space. “Before we say something we can’t take back.”

But Jay doesn’t move.

He should. He knows he should.

Instead, he does something stupid.

He reaches out.

His fingers brush against her wrist, and she sucks in a sharp breath, her entire body going still. Her pulse beats wildly under his fingertips, and for a second—just a second—she lets him hold on.

Then she yanks her arm away like he’s burned her.

“This isn’t fair,” Avery whispers, voice barely audible.

Jay swallows hard, “No. It’s not.”

She takes another step back, putting real distance between them now. “We can’t keep doing this.” I can’t keep doing this.

He exhales slowly as something twists in his stomach. A heavy, overwhelming sense of dread. Finally, he nods, “I know.”

Neither of them moves. Neither of them leaves.

The locker room door creaks open again, and they both snap their heads toward it.

Kevin’s slightly wide-eyed gaze flicks between them, eyebrows raising high into his forehead. “Uh… is this a bad time?”

Blinking rapidly, Avery shakes her head before turning on her heel and forcing a smile. “No. I was just leaving.”

Jay watches her go, his stomach dropping as she pushes past Kev without another word.

The bass from the speakers pulses through Avery’s chest, the thrum of the music matching the erratic rhythm of her heartbeat. The bar is crowded, bodies pressing together on the dance floor, voices raised in laughter and conversation that blurs into a dull roar. She sits at the bar, her half-empty glass of whiskey in front of her, the amber liquid catching the flashing neon lights that paint the room in shades of red and blue.

Her head was heavy, spinning slightly as she takes another sip, the alcohol burning its way down her throat. It doesn’t taste good—not really—but it helps. Helps blur the sharp edges of her thoughts, dulls the ache that’s been clawing at her chest all week.

She hasn’t talked to Jay since their fight in the locker room. Since he grabbed her wrist. Since she yanked away. He hasn’t come to the stakeouts the last two nights, leaving her to sit in her car alone, the silence screaming at her. He hasn’t offered, and she hasn’t asked.

She should be glad. Should be relieved.

Instead, she feels like the tight coil that was barely holding her together is unraveling.

More memories have been coming back every single time she closed her eyes, jagged and painful, clawing their way to the surface no matter how much she tried to bury them. Her mind flickers to Nikolai, to the sound of her own screams echoing in that cold, damp room. To his voice, low and cruel, asking her over and over, Who are you?

Avery squeezes her eyes shut, pressing her fingers to her temples as if she could will the images away. But they are relentless, invading her thoughts like a storm she couldn’t escape. Everything feels tangled and messy, her emotions an unbearable weight she can only lessen with alcohol.

She hates herself for how much she thinks about Jay. Every moment they spend together feels like a lifeline, but it also reopens old wounds. She thought she was doing the right thing by pushing him away, by letting him move on with Hailey. But now, she isn’t sure. She misses him. But it’s clear how hurt and angry he is. She doesn’t know how much longer they can do this back and forth before one of them breaks, shatters into so many pieces that it’ll be impossible to glue back together. What they have now isn’t sustainable, not in this job. Not with both of them in this unit.

“Avery.” The voice comes from beside her, smooth, familiar. She blinks, looking up to find one of the club’s regulars Mark—or maybe Matt?—leaning against the bar next to her. His lips curl into a knowing smirk. “Didn’t expect to see you here again,” he says, tilting his head as his eyes rake over her. “You good?”

She forces a smirk, even though her stomach is twisting. “Do I not look good?”

He chuckles, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a small baggie. A few little white pills clink together inside. He holds it between two fingers, offering them to her like a gift. “Here. This’ll help.”

Her breath catches in her throat, her pulse quickening as her eyes narrow in on the bag. Her body reacts before her mind can catch up, her hand curling tightly around her glass as she fights the urge to reach for it.

It would be so easy. One pill. One small pill to take the edge off. Just enough to forget. To stop the memories, the guilt, the pain.

The man leans closer, taking out two of the pills and slipping them into her hand, “On the house. You look like you could use it.”

Avery stares at them, rolling them in her palm experimentally. The urge is a living thing, crawling up her throat, sinking its claws into her skin.

Just one.

She needs to get out of here. Slamming her palm on the table, she quickly jumps to her feet. His words of protest come, but she doesn’t hear it. She’s already backing away, shoving through the crowd of drunk people, her breaths coming painfully fast.

Her feet carry her out of the club and into the cold Chicago night, the icy air slapping her in the face. Her hands shake as she digs her phone out of her pocket. She barely registers what she’s doing, who she’s calling. Her fingers move on autopilot.

The call rings twice before Adam picks up, his voice groggy, “Hello?”

“Can I come over?” she asks, her voice hoarse, barely above the pounding of the music that can still be heard from the sidewalk.

There’s a pause on the other end, then a quiet sigh. “Yeah. Of course.”

She nods even though he can’t see it, mumbling a quick, “Be there soon,” before hanging up. She stares at the screen for a moment, her breath hitching, before she slips the phone back in her pocket. Avery’s feet start moving before her mind can catch up, the wind biting into her skin and sobering her up just slightly. With every step, she has to fight the desire to turn around. To go back inside that club, back to that guy and back to those magic little pills that can take away all the hurt and the anger and the guilt.

The streets are quiet, the snow falling softly around her as she makes her way through the city, still on edge. Her breath comes in short, visible puffs, her boots crunching against the frozen pavement. She doesn’t know what she was going to say when she gets there. She’s still pissed at him for starting a fight with Jay. How am I the bad guy when I’m the one who got sucker punched? His disbelieving voice rings in her head making a small smile tug at her lips, just enough to distract her for a moment.

When Avery reaches the apartment building, she stares up at the brick and blinks slowly, trying to make sense of her fragmented thoughts. She bites her lip, realizing that she probably shouldn’t be here. Before she can decide to cut and run, though, an older man with a dog opens the door and she slips inside with a casual smile. Her mind races as she climbs the stairs, the beat of the club’s music still thrumming under her skin. By the time she reaches the door, her breathing is shallow, her emotions a tangled mess. She raises her hand, hesitating for a split second before knocking.

prev . . . next

[petrovna-zamo]

Gwyneth Paltrow made Katya’s dream come true 

[un-pearable]

i get it. i really do. i know jay is sexist. especially in s1. but it’s so obviously an intentional choice that the writers know is a bad thing to be. they were trying to do a sokka. obviously it didn’t work but authorial intent does still matter

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D

[crossbackpoke-check]

i C u moyle

captured in 4k

[arts-and-drafts]

I decided to start compiling speech patterns and such for the Hermits I watch the most, because being a fic writer is hard sometimes 😭 then I thought “why not share it here?”

so here’s my very rough analysis of my most viewed Hermits, this is just what I’ve managed to gather so please don’t call me out for what I’m missing

-

Scar

Rarely stutters in normal speech. Maybe pauses if he’s started a sentence and doesn’t know where it’s going, but he doesn’t tend to trail off unless something interrupts his train of thought

Stutters a LOT when he’s startled. Also makes ‘hoo!’ noises repeatedly before he finds his words

Lays on the charm THICK when he’s trying to convince someone over literally anything; compliments their looks, their handiwork, and then pitches his proposition in smooth segue. Not one to entertain haggling though (however he DOES do a ‘look if you’ll pay full price I’ll throw in xyz’ thing). King of upselling even the most mundane things.

His tone is cheerful most of the time, no matter what he’s saying. He’ll actually often say very disturbing things with a light voice (ex. when discussing how to retaliate ie “what should we do about him?” “we could kill him! :)”)

Builds and locations somehow are always capitalized in his voice?? Like he says them differently. I can’t really explain it (when he talks about Aqua Town or Scarland or The Big Dig)

Literally has an evil laugh when he thinks of a way to prank someone or mess with people

Hums in thought quite often, and uses “huh!” quite often when confused or finding out something new (Mostly with redstone)

His farewell is almost always “Byeeee, have a great time!” even if the conversation he left was not a pleasant one. I’m almost certain he does this in tense situations just to get under other people’s skin and really push how unbothered he is

Doesn’t tend to insult people, the farthest he’ll take it is backhanded compliments

That said he is not afraid to outright threaten (“I will murder them.”)

References media a lot, both for concepts for builds and in speech (ie his greeting “Well hello there!” is from Star Wars)

Number one exclamation is “Sweet Baby Jellie!”

(More under the cut!)

Grian

Cold opens, both in videos and conversations (rarely says “hello, how are you, etc” when encountering someone, but he does say farewells/‘thank you’s)

Likes to sneak up on people and scare them if he realizes they haven’t noticed him yet, usually does so by getting real close and then yelling (“HEY!”/“HI!”/“WHAT’S THAT?”)

Uses the name of whoever he’s talking to pretty often while speaking to them (“Well, Mumbo, you never know”/“So, Scar, as you can see here-“), same goes for often addressing his audience (“you all”/“you lot”/“you guys”)

Usually pretty focused (when he wants to be) but oftentimes takes a minute to laugh at things he notices in the natural environment (An accidental face in a build, a mob in a strange place, etc)

Takes the lead in a conversation if nobody is the clear leader, but generally only speaks when spoken to if someone else has risen to that spot

Clarifies instructions after something is explained, both to his viewers and to anyone he’s grouped up with (most often seen in the Life Series)

Uses “Pardon?!”/“Beg your pardon?!” most often when surprised or startled (he’s very British), also sometimes uses “Sorry??”

Things are way more funny to him when he’s tired

Deadpans a lot in conversation ie “why not do xyz?” “Well because we’ll horrifically die 😑“

This man is allergic to committing to the bit unless he’s the one that initiated it

Not one to sugarcoat (“how is it?” “well to be honest it’s miserable”)

Number one exclamation is “WHAT?!” (though he often uses “oh my GOODNESS” quite a bit)

Mumbo

The start of nearly every episode is almost a pitch, does the same when bringing up an idea to others (“I have this idea”/“I was thinking”/“I noticed” etc)

Often laughs a little at himself when he speaks

Also often brings up how inexperienced/unqualified he thinks he is with literally any task he’s doing

Gets very distracted with the smallest things

Uses similes a lot when trying to describe a concept (“I’m thinking a this-type thing”/“Something like a [xyz]”/“Imagine like a [thing]”)

His voice gets higher when he’s startled or panicking

A very vocal thinker, which makes sense because he’s a MC Youtuber, but he also just. Seems to think out loud regardless

Comments a lot on the feel of things (“Oh this feels menacing”/“This looks like it’d mess you up”/“This makes it feel very intimidating”), often with building

Extremely modest. However will celebrate when he does something right in redstone/building (“YES! Oh my days, that took forever”)

Once and a while will have a rare banter moment with people he’s comfortable with (ie teasing and making fun)

Related to above, he gets very giggly when he’s hanging out with people he’s familiar with (Grian and Scar most often, but also Iskall)

Number one exclamation is “What on earth?!”

Joel

Greets people most often with “How you doing [name]?”/“How are ya [name]?”

He’s very northern. He often leaves out words in his sentences bc that’s just the way his dialect is (“What you doin’?” vs “What are you doing?”)

Says his th’s like f’s (“somefing”/“nofing”/“finking”) ((Stress also does this))

His jokes/teasing are very deadpan (“I made you this extra thing, because you’re trash at this”)

Actually gives gifts of resources very often, and always leaves it with a little note and signs his name

His voice gets higher pitched when he’s defensive/being extremely cheeky but other than that his tone rarely changes

This man. Flirts so much. If any other person initiates even the slightest of flirty banter he takes that and dials it to eleven I cannot believe this is a straight married man sometimes

Joel commits to the bit 100% of the time (slightly related to above), unless of course it’s jokes about his height

Makes a point to compliment himself if he gets the chance (words most often used are “handsome” “strong” and “humble”, as well as comments about his muscles and physique)

Insults his enemies diminutively (“look at you down there, tiny idiot”/“You’re wrong and also weak”) ((seen most often in Empires SMP)

His most often used insult is “idiot”

When he’s flustered/frustrated he uses “bloody” a lot (ie “bloody heck” or “this bloody thing” (loves to toe the PG line), also uses “blooming” (“bloomin’ heck”)

Most often used exclamation is also “WHAT?!”

Bdubs

Opens videos very jovially, talks almost like a radio host

Breaks down his builds down to the block, spends a lot of time discussing his block pallet choices and giving tips while he builds

Uses the affirmation “sure enough” a lot, and often addresses himself as “Ol’ Bdubs”

Talks affectionately about other hermits often (“[name], the absolute sweetheart, left me some materials”, “[name], you angel!”)

Adding to above, “angel” or “sweet angel” seems to be his most often used affectionate terms

Switches on a dime, though, if he gets offended (which of course causes others to poke fun at him even more)

Calls mobs “stupid” a lot when they don’t do what he wants (but takes it back if he says it to one of his horses ex. “Come here, stupid—wonderful, I mean, beautiful”)

THIS MAN IS THE #1 HORSE ENJOYER. He gets a horse first thing every season and rides it everywhere, and they’re always a focal point of his theme or builds in some regard

Pauses whatever he’s doing to sleep as soon as it’s possible, and gets very antsy if he can’t do it for some reason (“One moment, time to shreep!”)

Related to above, EVERYONE messes with him if he’s trying to sleep in their presence ie breaking his bed over and over, and he gets increasingly more frustrated when it happens

Rarely is soft spoken or quiet, he projects his voice and uses a lot of emphasis in his tone

Either straight up screams (and peaks the mic 😭) if he’s startled or scared, or yells “oh my GOODNESS!!”

Number one exclamation is “HEY!”

[eupheme]

— double the pleasure, triple the fun

[part iii of come on and show me | masterlist]

logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson

rated e - 5.6k

tags: MMF threesome, mutual pining/crushes all around, dirty talk, poly relationship, multi-tasking, the world's worst romantic porposition, oral sex, vaginal fingering, ass play (fingering & rimming), double penetration, creampies, fluff and feelings

a/n: massive thank you to the wonderfully talented @avocado-writing, who kindly beta'd this for me! 💖

“Are you asking me out?” It comes slowly, in a rough rasp. 

It’s you that turns then, your eyes finding his. Your smile is sweet - a swirling heat of hope in your belly, “Depends on your answer.”

There’s something dark in his eyes. A curl of his lips, as his head dips. A kiss pressed against your spine, then lower. 

“Come on Wilson.” Logan husks, “Let’s get our girl ready.”

(Or, your two becomes three.)

“God, I want him to put a baby in me.”

Wade’s sigh rumbles beneath your ear, where your head cradles against his chest. 

Legs entwined as you stretch out together on the couch - a late-night wind-down after your boyfriend spent the evening picking out his To-Do List at Sister Margaret's.

To kill. Not fuck, apparently. Something he was quick to clarify.

“What are you watching?” Your eyes pull away from your own phone - seventeen chapters into an enemies-to-lovers slow burn you haven’t been able to put down all evening. 

A little stretch, as your head tilts to face him - knuckles propped under your chin, “That video has been looping for like, ten minutes.”

“And yet, still not long enough,” He sighs, flashing the screen at you, “Sir Mix-a-Lot, you never miss.”

The video flickers, a quick and skillful transition of clips - your eyes squinting at the screen from your angle.

“Is that... Logan?”

“Close, baby girl.” His finger boops against your nose, “Huge Ackman.”

There’s a little shake of your head, as your shoulder lifts, “I don’t know who that is.”

“And thank god,” He grins, letting the phone drop onto the cushions. A shift, as his hands dips against the small of your back, “If you did, you would divorce me so fast-“

Your eyes roll, as you bite back a grin, “I wouldn’t.”

“Definitely, maybe.”

Wade grunts as you push yourself with a huff - head dipping to press your lips against his. A low swirl in your belly, as his eyes go soft and his smile goes dopey. 

“I love you, Wade Winston Wilson,” You grin back, “New fake boyfriends and all, apparently.”

He hums, head tilting.

“And what about not-so-fake boyfriends?”

Your brow furrows.

“You are talking about Logan now, right?”

Wade’s knuckles brush your cheek, the humor in his eyes turning searching, “What do you think?”

And what a question it is. 

You’ve talked about it often. The occasional partner had cycled in for a night or two, but there had never been someone that struck you both like Logan had, arriving in your lives like a storm of thunder and lightning.

And you can’t deny that there’s feelings. Obvious ones, apparently, with how you acted in the past. Wade was still teasing you about your jealousy - you never had a handle on that emotion in the way he did. 

That innate knowledge of how he felt about someone, trusted them. Flirting was easy, but you’ve seen the way he looks at Logan, too.

It was different. Special.

“Two musketeers becoming the full set,” He holds his fingers up in front of you, two and then three, “Only unlike them, we’re fucking.”

You let out a sound of dissent, with the lift of a shoulder. 

“Oh, worm?” His brow raises, “Guess Disney wasn’t ready for that, either. Dibs on the religious one, then. I am a man of the cloth.”

“It’s a bad analogy, there’s four of them.”

He chuckles indulgently, “Okay, now I think you’re making things up-“

Now it’s your hand reaching, a finger tapping against his lips.

“I’d like that. I think Logan being our… boyfriend-” The word sends a rush of heat to your face as you stutter over it, Wade’s eyes gleaming.

“Oh my god, you are so fucking cute.” He crows, “We’ve fucked nasty-style and you can’t even say boyfriend-”

Your face buried in his chest, his name a muffled whine. A beat as the laughter still rumbles in his chest, before you peek at him.

“Do you think he wants that, too?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Wade hums, “That man is at least a 6 on the Yearning Richter scale. Felt by all, many frightened.”

You brighten at that prospect - your brain is already slipping ahead, “Do you think we should like, plan something? Ask him together?”

“Oh, don’t worry, gorgeous.” Wade grins.

“I’ll handle it.”

It's strange, seeing Logan in your space.

A good strange. A strange that feels nice - the subtle sweep of his eyes, as he takes in your apartment. The bag slung over his shoulder already tucked in your room, set on the ottoman at the foot of your bed.

He fits in, you think. Tucked into your couch as you put the finishing touches on dinner. Too used to being in their shared space at Wade’s. Of stolen moments when Althea was out. Hushed moments when she was home, muffled moans and bitten-back sighs.  

It will be nice to be able to take your time. 

They had arrived together, and there had been a certain thrill to that, too. 

Wade's knock that mimics the opening beats of "Smooth", before the door burst open. Funny to think about them crammed in a car together - they took Althea's, Wade tells you, when you later asked if they'd walked.

How he was already turning to you to referee, as you tip your head to kiss his cheek. 

"All I'm asking is if we're both sheathing our swords in the same scabbard, then why is he getting his panties in a twist about me putting my clothes in his bag?"

"Ignore him, sweetheart," Logan softens, leaning into the matching kiss you press against his jaw, "Been doing that for the last two months. It's good to see you."

And it is. Good to see both of them, something warm glowing bright in your chest.

The round table that always felt a little big for two feels perfect now - tucking between each other as dinner passes in a warm jumble of savory aromas and comfortable conversation. 

Smiling at the way they're both as engaged with your stories about your day, as you are about the work they've been doing together.

"-absolutely vaporized. It was disgusting, babe." Wade grimaces, "I was fine of course. Red, and all. But Lo here, eeugh. Still scrubbing the blood out of the nooks and crannies."

Logan makes a grunt of acknowledgement, "Had worse."

"Worse? Worse than getting gut-mist blasted across your chest?"

"I'll help, if you want." You offer, "Haven't seen your new suit yet."

At Wade's request, you try to keep out of his mercenary business - other than the stories he shares, the occasional repairs of his suit, or a late-night tryst. Doesn't want his life mixing, not after what's happened in the past. 

Dutiful boyfriend by day, mercenary by night. And also sometimes, by day. Evenings, weekends.

It’s an unsteady schedule, but it's one you've grown accustomed to. Maybe that’s what helps make this easy, the way you’ve already adjusted to mutant-regenerative-boyfriend-life. 

But it doesn't mean you're not curious. That you don't appreciate certain aspects when they’re offered for you explore - especially when they come in tightly wrapped in leather and lycra. 

And when you eventually rise to collect dishes, it's Logan that beats you to it. A finger sternly pointed towards the couch, Wade's hand at your back - already guiding you towards it, as you protest.

"Least we can do, sweetheart," Logan smiles, "Can't remember the last time I had a meal this good."

"Excuse me," Wade gasps, as he slips on elbow-length mis-matched gloves,"Did my midnight toaster strudels mean nothing to you?"

It's your turn now, to sit on the couch. To watch, as Wade supervises. The quiet talk that swiftly turns to bickering. A yelp and a splash of hot water, before he's retreating.

Sinking down on the seat next to you, as your thoughts swirl. Soft memories of past shared evenings, and the planting of something that you’ll tend to carefully, hoping it will flourish. 

"You're looking at him like he's got balls on his neck," Wade’s arm slings around your shoulders, tone knowing, "Got something on your mind, gorgeous?"

Your nose wrinkles at the visual, but then you turn thoughtful.

"Just like seeing both of you here." Your smile is soft, "It feels right, you know?"

He hums in agreement, and you glance his way, "Do you feel that way too?"

"Feels as right as Ryan Reynolds playing me in my upcoming biopic."

That has you cocking an eyebrow - whatever reference he's making flying over your head, "And that's... good?"

"Yeah, baby." He grins.

"Really fucking good." 

The hunger follows you into the bedroom, after. Your question about dessert gets swiftly turned around on you - hands catching at your waist. 

Threats and promises  to devour you instead - that the ice cream you bought can wait - as lips press against yours. Another mouth at your neck, in your slow and often-interrupted journey to the bedroom. 

Ganging up on you again, almost as if it were planned. 

And you’re not sure if it was, or whether they’ve unconsciously become more in-sync, between their hours together at the apartment and in their work. 

More alike than they are different, at their core - something you’re not sure you’d be able to convince them of, even though you see it.

It’s sweetly familiar, when you finally fall into bed together. Clothes already stripped off, a messy pile mixing together against the woven floral rug as you fit together. 

Spit pools on Logan’s tongue, as he sucks on his teeth. A low tilt of his head before his lips are parting, letting it drop where he has your thighs nudged apart, belly pressed down against the bed.

Warm, where it hits the cleft of your ass. His hand follows - a broad palm curving against soft skin, tugging you open. 

“What do I have to do to let me have you here?” Logan’s thumb smears his spit against the tight ring, voice low and honey-smooth. 

It makes you jolt, a soft sound pulling from your throat. Squirming, as his thumb comes back - rolling the pad against you. 

“She, shit-” Wade groans, as your mouth leaves his cock - the tip glistening as it drops against his belly, “Only lets people she’s dating fuck her ass.”

“Wade!” You whine, as your thighs try to close - Logan’s spreading to keep you open. 

A low rasp of a laugh, “Is that right?”

“Not me though. If you’re curious.” Wade hums, his arm still slung under the pillow, “Sometimes even a first date is too slow.”

Dark eyes drag up, to the shift of hips. Over the leaking cock, lying flushed and hard against Wade’s belly - something like hunger in the slow sweep up to the pulled-wide grin.

“This is you handling it?” You hiss.

“You’re acting like the man invented the elevator.” Wade shrugs - shifting to push himself up on an elbow, “Trust me, there is nothing more romantic than a ‘what are we’ conversation slipped into a discussion about double penetration. We’re multi-tasking, gorgeous.”

Some of the tension eases, with the way he smiles at you. There’s not an ounce of worry in his expression, only the dark shadow of desire, highlighted with humor. 

Waiting until you smile back, before he fixes Logan with a pointed look. 

“Look. I’m gonna level with you,” He sighs, as if divulging something imperative, ”Until you’re ready to commit to being Mr. Y/L/N, then fifth base is just gonna be out of the question.”

There’s the shake of a head, a low huff behind you. The slight stroke of fingers against your skin.

“Are you asking me out?” It comes slowly, in a rough rasp. As if putting pieces together. 

It’s you that turns then, your eyes finding his. Your smile is sweet - a swirling heat of hope in your belly, “Depends on your answer.”

There’s something dark in his eyes. A curl of his lips, as his head dips.

A kiss pressed against your spine, then lower. 

“Come on Wilson.” He husks, “Let’s get our girl ready.”

A moan rips from you. First, from his words - the jolting butterflies in your belly, a pooling warmth. The sound lengthening, as his tongue flattens where his fingers had teased. Your back arches as Wade pumps his fist, before throwing a filthy “I-Told-You-So” smirk your way.

It glances off you. Your fingers curled in the sheets, as Logan shoulders your thighs further apart. A wet swipe that travels from your cunt to your hole, smearing your slick and his spit against your skin. 

A finger nudging against you, as Wade leans - hand fumbling for the handle of the bedside table. 

“You think you can take both of us?” Logan purrs, as he carefully works you open. A fingertip sinking inside you, as you whine. 

”What, you think we were joking about role-playing?” Wade scoffs,”Why did you think all the dinner knives were missing? Lost ‘em all beneath the bed.”

There’s a shuffle, as he works himself further beneath you. A bottle of lube dropped on the bedspread, as his fingers reach - petting against your clit.

“Tried two before, didn’t we gorgeous? Me and the Pulverine, as we call him.” Wade coos, “Not as big as you, of course. But definitely a lot more sparkly.” 

“Toy’s not the same thing,” Logan hums, as you clench around him. Sinking deeper, slowly pumping, “‘s gonna be a tight fit, baby.”

The sensations are already overwhelming. Wade’s fingers slipping down - fitting one, and then two fingers inside your slick pussy. His thumb nudging against your clit, teasing.

Logan’s weight against you, shifting as his hips grind into the mattress. The messy swirl of his tongue, more spit added to the mess. His thick finger already feels like a lot, pressed down to the knuckle. Slow in the way he works you open, the hot embers in your belly roaring brighter.

“I want it.” You moan, “Want both of you.” 

Wanted it for a while now. Wondered if they’d take you like this. If you’d be able to take them, stuffed so full you could barely draw breath. Wanting to know what it feels like to come, with both of them pressed to the hilt inside you. 

Words fail you, soon after. There’s the cold smear of lube against your skin, a second finger notched. Your cry muffled with the press of Wade’s lips, tilting your face to his as their fingers find their rhythm together.

That steady swirl against your clit. How you’re clenching around them, your arousal slick on Wade’s palm. The sharp rhythmic slap ringing through your ears as you pant into his mouth. Logan’s teeth against the soft curve of your ass, a muffled groan as he fits a second inside you. 

It’s a mimicry of later, but it’s enough. Something bright burning in your belly, fueled by their desire. Hot breath against your skin, Wade’s cock grinding into your hip. 

“Come on, gorgeous.” He murmurs against you, “Let me feel you come with his fingers buried in your ass.”

You choke on your moan. Hips shifting, pushing one deeper and then the other as you chase the building high. The sharp stretch long spooling into pleasure, twisting around your guts, shimmering. 

“‘m gonna-” It’s breathed out, your eyes screwing shut. Focused on the countdown  that’s begun inside you, swiftly approaching with each crook of their fingers, “Fuck, I’m-”

Logan shifts, his breath ghosting against your spine, “Come for us, sweetheart.”

For us. 

Your face buries against Wade’s shoulder, as they bring you over the edge together. Working in tandem to take you apart, and they haven’t even really begun - fingers crooking and curling as a bright pleasure blooms in your belly. 

Wade had been right - it’s not the first time you’ve been full like this. But Logan was right, too. It’s different - the way you can feel them move together, as you whine. The orgasm ripples through you, the sensations drawing out as kisses are dropped between your shoulder blades. 

Soft crooning in your ear, but it’s all muted - barely aware of the palms that run across your skin. The press of mouths against your heated skin - until the pulses in your core fades, the room coming back into focus. 

They slip from you - first Wade, and then Logan. You’ve felt empty before but never like this, already missing the weight inside you. Craving more.

There’s a shift on the bed, Logan shouldering himself next to Wade, who you’re still stretched out on. 

“C’mere, baby. Fuck, need to feel you.”

Hand at your hips, coaxing you up. Encouraging you to straddle his thighs, but then Wade is tsking - reaching for you, trying to turn you around.

“Annnd I just gave myself a promotion to Director,” He adds with a long-suffering sigh, “When you want something done right, gotta do it yourself.”

Logan growls, as your weight leaves him, “The fuck you talking about?”

Wade’s brow arches, “The fuck I’m talking about is you doing this all wrong, peanut. When was the last time you partook in the devil’s threeway? Was it this century, at least?”

Hand gentle as he guides you to face away from Logan, your ass settling against the cradle of his hips.

“There you go,” He coos, “How am I going to give your pretty little kitty the attention she deserves if you have her all hidden away?”

Logan’s hard cock nestles against your belly, as your knees press into the mattress. Breath hitching as you gauge the size of him again. Hoping that the prep he did was enough - the soft buzz beneath your skin certainly has you feeling more than ready.

Slicking your fingers with more lube before they wrap around his shaft - a rough hiss sliding from his throat as they circle around, squeezing. Smearing it against swollen flesh, thumbing over the leaking head as you line yourself up. 

Wade shifting to watch, his head tilted against Logan’s shoulder, his fist already wrapped around his cock as you start to slowly sink down. 

“Sit on it, sweetheart, there you go.” Logan growls, as he breaches you. 

A sharp, inhaled breath as the tip sinks inside you. The building pressure and then the give - as you try not to clench down.

Pulling a rough sound from him. Fingers twitching at your hips - set on only steadying you. A rough edge creeping into his soft encouragement, “Nice and easy, baby.”

Another inch, but it feels like double. Sweat beading along the nape of your neck, as you stretch around him.

“Doing so good,” He rasps, “Take it slow.”

“Taking it like a fucking champ, baby.” Wade interjects, “Couldn’t have done it better myself, and Levy knows how often I thought about it.”

Your nails bite into his thighs, but it only makes his hips flex. Twin moans when it nudges him the rest of the way - your breath stolen when he’s seated flush inside you.

Not that different than when Wade’s fucked you, even with the length he’s got on Logan. But it’s the girth that has your lips parting - a ragged moan with the experimental roll of your hips.

“Pretty fucking sight.” Logan groans, through gritted teeth. Palms slipping around, gently tugging you back towards his chest.

His growl low in your ear, as his hips lift in an experiment thrust.

“Gonna stuff you full, gonna let us do the work.” He husks, a hissed breath when you clench around him. “Make you feel good, alright?”

Palming at your tits, as Wade shifts into position. Swallowing your begging, whined out “please-” as he kisses down your throat. 

Over your breasts. The back of Logan’s hand, against the curve of your belly. His fist still working at his cock, an audible moan of appreciation when he settles between Logan’s thighs.

“You look so good full of him.” It’s mumbled out against your hip, “God, I want to jerk off to this and let you use my cum as lube.”

Logan’s fingers tighten - pinching a peaked nipple as you moan, as kisses are peppered against your mound.

“Fuck us into your tight ass.”

You cry out, when his tongue flattens against your clit. Fingers teasing at your hole, dipping inside to test how full you feel. 

“Soaking wet, baby. You feeling good?” Wade croons, “Or does your greedy little pussy need more?”

“Wade,” You keen, desperate. Rocking into the slow pump of Logan’s hips, his breath harsh in your ear.

His fingers crook, and curl.

“You want us to take you there and back again to pound town?” 

“I swear to god,” You pant, desperate, “If you don’t get inside me, I’ll-, I’ll call Nate.”

His eyes gleam, “That right? Still thinking about riding the ol’ Cable car?”

It’s Logan’s added growl that finally gets him moving. A smile still pulling wide, as he slips from you. His own desperation betrayed by the wet smear against his belly.

The slick tip of his cock, as he ruts against your folds. Your breath held, as he notches himself.

His dark eyes on your blown-wide ones, as he starts to sink in. It has your thighs trembling, as you whine. Clenching down without meaning to, as Logan groans.

Feeling the way he inches into you. What little space left filled as your pussy makes room for him. The tight clutch of your walls, a moan at the way he can feel Logan through the thin layer of skin between them.

A choked-out moan punched from his chest. 

“Made to take us both. Weren’t you, gorgeous?” He murmurs, as his hips move, “Goddamn perfect fit.”

They both move inside you. Stilted thrusts, off rhythm as you squirm between them. Logan getting impatient - throwing a glare Wade’s way.

“Stop moving when I do.”

It’s met with a laugh, as Wade’s hip snap a little harder. Filling you, the force jolting you against Logan, as your nails bite into his biceps.

“I’m driving this thing.” He counters, “Call me Sandra Bullock, because I’m not about to let this bus dip below 50.”

His hand catching Logan’s wrist - resistance when he tugs, but then it’s going with him. Fitting the curve of his fingers against the base of your throat.

“You do what you do best and be the anchor. Keep her still for me, will you?” 

Logan’s fingers flex, but he grunts - the slightest pressure against your chest. 

A pat against your hip, with a wink, “Let Daddypool do all the work.”

You huff, but the sound turns strangled as the sets the pace. Hands at your hips, tugging you to meet his thrusts. Fucking you back on to Logan, when his weight presses into you.

“There we fucking go. How you feeling, baby?”

“Feels so good,”You gasp, as the movement gets familiar. The slick slide of them inside you, the back and forth as they stroke your walls, as your arousal gleams against their cocks. 

“Know it does.” Wade grins, “They don’t call me DP for nothing.”

Logan grunts beneath you. Something biting held back - distracted, as his other hand wanders. Slipping across your hip, then down.

Tracing over your mound. Feather-light against your folds, feeling how you stretch open each time Wade goes balls-deep. 

Your moan coming out ragged, when he teases your clit. Soft strokes with the pad of his finger, before two press and circle.

It makes you jolt, his laugh low in your ear.

Finding that familiar rhythm. Feeling the way your hips flex, seeking out his touch. How easily he’s able to wind you up now, from the times he’s taken you apart. 

How it’s almost overwhelming, with the stuffed-full pressure of them inside you. With the saw of Wade’s hips, as his cock nudges against the spongy spot inside you.

A rough hum when you clench down. Unable to do more than take what he gives you, with the way Logan cradles you against his chest.

It only adds to the surge of pleasure inside you. A near-divine pairing of sensations that has your fingers reaching, Wade’s name a soft cry on your lips. 

He flattens against you, to meet the way your mouth tips up. It’s messy, open-mouthed as his hips slow to a grind. Hands skating up your body, against hips and waist.

Letting him in when he deepens it. A groan as he licks against your teeth. Needy presses of his mouth, spit smeared across your lips when it breaks. Another kiss  peppered against your jaw, where Logan groans into your ear. 

A unconscious shift of his head, and then their lips are brushing.

Logan’s cock throbs inside you, as Wade goes stiff and still. It’s softer than it should be - no more than a shared breath, before Wade pulls back. 

The hand at your neck flexes. Loosens, as it slips between you. Wrapping around the back of Wade’s neck as he yanks him back down.

A growled out “fuck” when they meet again, insistant this time. Vicious with the scrape of teeth, the wet swipe of tongue as Logan’s nails bite into skin.

Messy, as they pant into each other's mouths. Calloused fingers drifting down from your clit to split against your folds. Teasing where you’re filled, as Wade’s moan turns filthy.

A matching sound escaping from Logan, long held back. 

“Fucking holding out on me,” Wade mumbles, when the kiss breaks, “Haven’t been this wet since Cap’s beard reveal.”

Eyes dark, when he feels how Logan moves inside you. Forgetting himself, as he chases the pleasure that threatens to peak inside him.

“Bet you love knowing you’ve been in all of our girl’s holes. Don’t you, handsome?” Wade grins. Eyes still watchful - catching the clench of a jaw, as his lips return to yours.

The kiss is sweeter this time, even as he begins to drive into you. Each of your breaths coming in a whining gasp, pleasure once again winding inside you.

His mouth running away from him, determined to send you both over, ”Should let me into some of yours. You know I’d treat you right.”

“Shut the fuck up. C-Can’t come with you running your mouth.” It’s panted out - half-hearted at best, and Wade’s eyes gleam.

“Fucking liar.” He crows, “Bet you jerk it all the time to the thought of us screaming your name.”

Voice pitches up then, in a mimicry of yours, “Oh, Logan. Fuck me right there with your monster dick-”

Logan strings tight beneath you with a snarl, as he tries to bury himself in your ass. The hand at your neck dipping to grasp at your hip, as the practiced rhythm turns sloppy.

Wade shifts - his weight leaned into your hips. Pinning you both down as he fucks into you, stroke after stroke.  

Logan’s touch is sloppy against your clit - but with the way your boyfriend’s cock pounds against that spot inside you, it’s enough.

You don’t even realize you’re whimpering. The way their names string together, the “please, please, please-” that catches in your throat.  

“You gonna come too, baby?” He coos - thrilled, “You’re both so fucking easy, aren’t you?”

Logan moans in your ear when you squeeze around him, fingers pressing harder. A little faster, and with the next plunge of Wade’s cock - you shatter. 

It’s all white noise, the faded star stickers on the ceiling becoming swirling the sky above as you’re pulled under. 

Helpless, with the way you’re pinned between them. Coming again with the tight swirls against your clit, with them fully sheathed inside you. 

The tight pulse of your orgasm around his sends Logan over. 

Even with Wade’s weight his hips still lift as he bows off the bed. A wounded groan, as he comes with you clenching down around him. Grinding himself into your hole as his cock throbs, emptying himself into you. 

There’s a sing-songed and muted “money shot” that has you groaning. Half-exasperation, half-mindless pleasure, as Logan’s hands roam. Holding you against him, ragged breath against your neck as you milk him empty.

Keeping you stuffed full, hilting his cock deeper when you squirm. Leaving Wade to catch up.

Shameless in the way he watches now, as molten pleasure thrums in your veins. Leaning back to see how you take them both. Picturing how you’ll look after, thoroughly-fucked holes that will drip with them until morning. 

Doesn’t notice when his breath turns short, but you do. 

“Wanna feel you come, baby.” You coo, your smile soft and pleasure-drunk. 

Hands tracing over his, overlapping and squeezing. The shallow lift of your hips to meet his thrusts, purposely squeezing him when he inches out - trying to keep him in.

“Make a fucking mess, Red.” Logan growls - joining you, “Let me feel you come inside her.”

“Jesus Titty-Fucking Christ,” The rough laugh turns into a groan, “Think I’m going to blow two loads at once-”

Hands overlapping, grasping on, holding you, as his hips pump faster. Head tipping - fitting between yours and Logans - as his back bows. 

Coming inside you with a muttered out “oh fuck. fuck yes-”, cock jerking with each needy rut of his hips. The sound turns into a whine when teeth sink his neck, hard enough to bruise. 

Yours on the other side, your soft moan in his ear as you feel the way he throbs as he spills into you again, and again. 

Intense, in a way you’ve never felt before. A connection that loops through you - from the press of your mouths, down to where you fit together. 

It’s fortunate that Logan’s hands still fit at your hips, with how fucked-out and boneless you feel. Trading one cock for another was one thing, but this - being claimed by both of them, the phantom ache as Logan withdraws- it’s something else entirely. 

Your head dropping back to rest against his shoulder, eyes heavy-lidded as you wait for your pulse to stop galloping. Logan’s nose ghosting against your temple, an arm still thrown around your hips. 

A hiss, when Wade slips from you. You can feel the mess they’ve made, sticky against your thighs. How they drip from your fucked-out holes, when you clench around nothing. 

It must do something to him, the way Wade moans when he sits back. Fingers raising - mimicking a camera, complete with the click of his tongue as the shutter. 

“If that doesn’t win me an academy award,” He hums thoughtfully.

“Then I don’t know what the fuck will.”

Time slows down, after. The low hum of artificial rain from a device on your dresser, layering with the muted city outside. Doesn’t know if it’s minutes or hours since he last moved, and he really can’t bring himself to care.

As long as it’s still dark, then he knows they’ve still got time. 

“So are you going to bake us a sex cake?” Wade yawns, “You know, for completely rocking your shit.”

“A what?” You stir against him - an eye cracking open. 

Logan grunts, his face buried in your shoulder. A hand splayed across your belly, a tug as he pulls you closer.

“Oh my god,” Wade chuckles to himself, “There I go, mixing up timelines again. I infinitely prefer this one, by the way.”

Logan lets the two of you bicker, his eyes slipping shut again. 

Your apartment is quieter than Wade’s. The bed comparable to the one they shared last time. Can’t remember the last time he’s felt a warmth like this. 

Soft, where your back tucks against his chest. His hand shifts to your hip, curving against soft flesh. Wade’s hand rests close enough to touch, fingers just brushing. Facing you, thighs twined together as he sandwiches you between them.

The shower had been nicer, as well. Snug, when you had pulled them in with you. Taking turns under the warm spray. He had commented on it - a way to drag out the scratch of fingers through his hair. The swirl of soap against his skin, and he had been too blissed out to bother with the facade when a second set of hands grabbed his ass. 

Staying just a little longer, as their hands found their way between your thighs. Wade thumbing at your clit as his own fingers fucked the cum deeper into your cunt. Twin marks sucked into your neck, as your legs threatened to give out - still shaky from before.

You stir against him. Words heavy with sleep.

“Wade didn’t say it earlier.” You yawn - shuffling, so you can help over to face him. 

Logan’s brow rises, as you clarify.

“There’s a caveat to our earlier question.”

“Good word choice.” Wade hums, “11 points, and I bet you were a real pleasure to have in class.”

A low chuckle, when your hips press back against his in warning - as your eyes flip up to Logan’s. 

“It’s a two-for-one deal,” The corner of your lips tug up, “It’s both of us, or nothing.”

“All for one, and one for all,” Wade’s chin hooks over your shoulder, ignoring how you elbow him, “And can you really afford not to take that?”

Supposes it’s cute, that you think you have to tell him this. That his eyes haven’t equally wandered, even if it’s only half-admitted. Too caught on wondering if the only something good he had will change, if he truly allows himself to want something. 

That it’s not only the feeling of your mouths on his cock that he revisits, though he does think of that often.

There’s other moments as well. Squeezing hands and smiles and the way you both look at him. The toothbrush that you had ready tonight, just incase he forgot his. The handle blue, when he slipped it in the cup - tucked next to red and purple.

Your words still spark brightly in his chest, settling low behind his ribs. It quells an uneasy twist that’s been lingering there for the past few weeks. 

Something unsteady, finally finding purchase. 

“Don’t know why you’re clarifying though, gorgeous.” His cheek rubs against yours like a cat. Those brown eyes meet his as well, and it’s hard to bite back the low inhale of breath.

“Considering he tongue-fucked the shit out of me earlier, I think he’s good.”

He huffs in reply, but he can’t bite back the curve of his lips. Not anymore - and he finds that he doesn’t want to.

“Yeah.” Logan agrees. That something turning soft inside him, the smile pulling just a little wider. 

“I’m good.”

thanks so much for reading!! 💖 there's a couple more moments I'd love to explore with them in the future! (but in case I'm not able to, I wanted to end it on this sweet note between them all. )

[prefrontal-bastard]

I’m not sure if this is permitted in other countries, but here in the US, advertisers are allowed to use any kind of malignant psychology they want in their ads so long as those ads fit within the allotted time-frame.

Back in high school, my class watched a video on how a certain Coca-Cola advertisement was made. You may have seen it, but for those who haven’t: The ad featured a cinematic montage of a crowded beach with smiling thin white people enjoying their leisure time and drinking Coca-Cola out of a common plastic bottle.

The big takeaway from this video was that the ad wasn’t actually advertising Coca-Cola. It was advertising a lifestyle. By associating Coca-Cola with a desirable lifestyle (as well as qualities associated with desirability) it plants the association of “Coca-Cola” with “happiness” in people’s subconscious minds.

This becomes clear when you consider who the ad was meant for. The target audience wasn’t the smiling thin white people that the ad featured, but instead it was people who wanted to be smiling thin white people. This was an ad for the Gen X mom of three kids who worked full-time, who relied on shelf-stable foods to keep everyone fed, and whose nervous system was chronically fried from the stress of never having adequate time for herself.

If she was at the grocery store, and saw the very same bottle of Coca-Cola featured in that ad, she’d be far more likely to pick it up than she was before watching it. If she didn’t anticipate finding relief for her stress, then she could at least drink up the idea of it.

Of course, the thing about ads is that they stop working. Eventually, people’s minds grow wise to the fact buying a certain product doesn’t actually grant them the lifestyle associated with them.

But there’s a lot of other tricks ads employ beyond this.

The reason why Geico is the first company you consider when thinking about buying car insurance is because of the calm, consistent nature of their ads and the fact they’re ubiquitous enough to be familiar. Their mascot forms a kind of parasocial rapport with the audience, so Geico already feels familiar to you by the time you’re looking to buy insurance.

Cereal brands use cartoon-character-like mascots to make their product memorable to kids who can’t read. The reason why so many cereal mascots exhibit such frenetic, possessive behavior is to teach kids to emulate that behavior to compel parents into buying them the cereal, especially if they saw that behavior rewarded in the ad (with the cereal).

You only really see ads for apps on an app-based devices for a reason.

Then there are the ads that don’t look like ads, but look like people on TikTok sharing a new secret product with their audience using the only communication format we regularly trust: word-of-mouth.

And let’s not forget the sheer magnitude of ads that exist. I can’t go outside without seeing them. I can’t watch videos online without exposing myself to ads that wants to skewer my emotions within 10 seconds.

There’s no reprieve from it unless I wall myself off from our culture entirely.

Ads are parasites to both culture and to cognition, and they must be regulated.

[wagconts]

𝐅inally a yes | Charles Leclerc

summary :: Where you finally accept Charles' proposal.

word count :: 1.090 words.

It was hard to believe that Formula 1 had become your life. Since you were little, fast cars and the stories behind the drivers had always fascinated you. Growing up in a family where Sunday mornings meant mandatory race-watching certainly helped. But simply watching wasn’t enough—you wanted to be there, part of that world. That desire drove you to study sports journalism, always with the goal of one day covering the pinnacle of motorsport.

Your first big break came when a small European motorsports website hired you to cover the junior categories. During that time, you met Charles Leclerc. He was on the rise, racing in Formula 2 and impressing everyone with his talent. Although you didn’t spend much time together back then, Charles had a charisma that was hard to ignore. He was kind, polite, but with a hint of sarcastic humor that made every conversation unforgettable.

You were always in front of him, the interviewer. It wasn’t intentional; you were simply following orders. But soon, you became a familiar face to Leclerc—not just your face, but your name as well.

Years later, your dedication finally led you to what once seemed like an unattainable dream: working directly with Formula 1. Now, as a reporter for a global network, you traveled the world covering races. Life was hectic and full of challenges, but one thing—or rather, one person—made everything even more complicated: Charles Leclerc.

From the day you crossed paths with Charles again in the paddock, he never missed a chance to start a conversation. At first, it was just quick remarks between interviews, casual exchanges. But over time, Charles became more direct, throwing in flirtatious comments disguised as jokes.

— You know you can interview any driver, yet you keep coming back to me. It’s fate, ma chérie — he’d say with that confident smile that made you laugh despite yourself, even as you rolled your eyes in response.

Your friends in the paddock quickly picked up on the dynamic between the two of you, especially Gasly and Norris, who never missed an opportunity to tease.

— Charles, how many times are you going to get turned down before you give up? — Pierre would mock, while Lando chimed in: — I think he likes the challenge. More exciting than overtaking Max on track.

You’d just shake your head, trying to ignore their comments, but sometimes you couldn’t help but laugh, which only encouraged Gasly and Norris further. To them, your laughter was like a sign—one that you weren’t entirely shutting Charles out.

This wasn’t the first time, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Despite Charles’ countless attempts, you always had a ready excuse for not accepting his invitations: work, commitments, exhaustion... But deep down, the real reason was fear—fear of complicating your already chaotic life. Mixing work and romance wasn’t a path you wanted to tread lightly.

Everything changed during the Monaco GP. It was the most glamorous race on the calendar, and the city’s atmosphere seemed to conspire for something different. Charles, of course, seized the moment.

— You’re in Monaco, my city, and you still haven’t seen the best spots. I think it’s the perfect time to finally say yes — he said, wearing that confident look that always threw you off balance.

For some reason, your mind worked differently that day. Lately, you’d been wondering what might happen if you did accept one of Charles’ invitations. A thought struck you like a pang in your heart: you’d never know what could truly happen unless you gave it a chance.

— Alright, Charles. I’ll go. But only because you won’t stop insisting. — Liar.

His grin was so wide it was like he’d just won a race. — You won’t regret it, I promise.

When you finally saw yourself in the mirror wearing that dress, it hit you—you had agreed to a date with none other than Charles Leclerc. If someone had told you this back in the Formula 2 days, you’d never have believed them.

Charles made sure to plan everything. He picked you up at the hotel, dressed in a crisp white shirt that was both stylish and casual, contrasting with the excitement in his expression. The destination? A small seaside restaurant, far from Monaco’s bustling crowds.

— I wanted a place where we could really talk, without distractions — he explained as you walked to a table overlooking the water.

— That’s exactly what I had in mind for this... outing — you smiled.

— Away from the media?

— Definitely.

The conversation flowed naturally. Charles shared stories about his childhood in Monaco, how he started racing, and the challenges he’d faced along the way. You, in turn, talked about how your passion for Formula 1 began and the behind-the-scenes aspects of your job.

— I’ve always admired your determination — he said, his tone suddenly serious. — Not only did you make it into this world, but you’ve stood out. That’s not easy, especially for someone so... captivating.

You felt your cheeks heat up at the compliment, but before you could respond, Charles shifted the mood with a playful comment about how he deserved credit for being so persistent in getting you to that dinner.

After the meal, Charles suggested a walk along the harbor. The night was clear, and the city seemed to glow even brighter under the moonlight. He led you to a quieter spot where yachts were anchored, away from the main activity.

— Did you know my first karting win happened right here? — he said, pointing to a spot near the harbor. — I was just a kid, but that day changed everything for me.

— Maybe tonight will change everything too — you replied without thinking, immediately regretting it when you saw the smile spreading across Charles’ face.

Charles stepped closer, shaking his head. — Maybe it will.

The silence that followed was broken only by the sound of waves lapping against the boats. Before you could say anything, Charles leaned in slightly, his gaze locked on yours.

— May I? — he asked, his voice low, filled with anticipation.

You nodded, and the kiss that followed was soft yet meaningful, as if all the tension between you had finally found its resolution.

That night, something truly changed. For the first time, you stopped resisting how you felt about him.

[robynlilyblack]

Do you think I'm a monster?

Remus Lupin x fem! hufflepuff! werewolf! reader

Summary: After an eventful summer, Remus’ finds his girlfriend being distant, but it isn’t until the the next full moon he realises why

Warnings: swearing, mentions of eating, scars, greyback, violence, sex and nudity (non-sexual), kissing, established relationship, hurt/comfort

A/n: 4.1k words, I am back and taking requests, i haven’t written anything for over a year so things might be a little rusty, please bare with me as i get back into the groove of writing but I’m so happy to be back writing again, thank you so much for the request, enjoy ♡

Navigation | Remus Lupin Masterlist

Remus’ leg bobbed impatiently, eyes darting to the entrance everytime someone entered hoping it was you yet he was only met with disappointment. His mood did lighten as he saw his friends enter, chuckling as he watched James walk into the table as he tried to woo Lily.

“You alright?” he asks trying not to smile to hard as James groans 

“Eh it’s nothing” he cringes sitting opposite, Peter by his side, while Sirius plops himself down next to Remus “Did she laugh at least?” he ignores his pain and embarrassment, only thinking of the girl sitting little ways down from them now, giggling with Marlene and Alice

“Yeah Prongs, she laughed” he tells a little white lie, though he’s sure Lily probably did think it slightly adorable

“Where's your lovely lady?” Sirius asks, scanning the Hufflepuff table for you

Remus sighs “She hasn’t appeared yet” he knew you were probably catching up with your friends, they had both been away with their families travelling so you hadn’t seen them either…he’d never admit it but he was a tad jealous he wasn’t going to get to hug you first

“Oi” he’s pulled from his gloom by Sirius nudging him, pointing towards the door “Speak of the angel and there she shall appear” he grins, his point turning it’s a little wave at you and your friends

Remus lights up, heart warming at your shy smile and slight embarrassment when both Peter and James join in waving to you…in fact they couldn’t see but Marlene, Lily and Alice had all begun to wave as well. You grant them a small wave back as you head to find a seat, Amos joining you as he smiles at them, while Alex shoots a wink and a small salute, the former towards one particular marauder. 

“Happy now?” James grins at his friend

Remus nods bringing his gaze back to you as Dumbledore starts his speech, he barely listens, doubting it’s any more interesting this year than it has been the last six. Instead he admires you, he’d missed you so much, more than he realised in fact, the boy couldn’t take his eyes off you. His gaze drifted across your features, while he noted your face did look a little hollow, his mind had other ideas, asking you if you had been eating properly could come later, but for now his eyes fixated on your lips as he daydreamed about kissing you, touching you, f…

“Ha…best behaviour for the youngins…” Sirius brings him back to reality, chuckling to himself “...that’ll be right?” turning his gaze to him, before he starts to grin “Moony missin’ her too eh?” he wiggles his eyebrows noting Remus’ blown pupils and guilty look

If he wasn’t already bright in the face Remus was scarlet now “Shut up” he grumbles trying to compose himself, face riddled with embarrassment but it softens as he realises your looking over 

Hi, he mouths 

Hi, you mouth back with a small smile before turning your attention to the front once more but somethings off, he can feel it

You felt awful, every bone in your body ached, and it didn’t help that your skirt's waistband was rubbing against last month's scar. You were grateful none were too visible, the biggest were along your waist and hips from the initial attack, though there was one other on your arm, it could easily be written off as a fall or cat scratch, the former being the one used likely use as it lined up with a real fall you had written to Remus about over summer.

Remus

You sighed as you glanced over at him, finding his attention had finally moved back to his friends, most likely plotting their first prank of the year. It was easy to pretend in your letters, thankfully he hadn’t come looking for you on the train but you knew you would have to talk to him eventually. Would he know? Would he be able to sense you were now like him? Would he see you as he saw himself? Would he think you a monster?

Am I a monster now?

“Hey…” you’re broken out of your gaze, a soft hand finding your shoulder, followed by your friend's kind smile “...are you alright?” Alex asks, knowing something is wrong, just not what

“You can tell us anything” Amos adds, smiling on your other side “You’ve been quiet” and he was right, you’d barely said two words to them since kings cross that morning

How do I tell them? you think eyes welling 

“”Hey hey” Amos turns you around as you try to look away, making you face him “You don’t have to tell us…” he assures and you almost want to cry more, you had such wonderful friends “...but let us help you” 

“Anything you need, sunshine” Alex’s smile grows into a smirk “We do hugs, skipping out on welcome feasts early, hexes…” that one makes you giggle causing the two boys faces to light up

“Think we could start with a group hug?” you look up at them, the welling tears dissipating as they waste no time wrapping you up in a warm embrace

“Love, wait up!”

You close your eyes, scrunching your face a little as you stop, trying to put on your best act as you turn back around to greet your boyfriend as he lightly jogs towards you

“Oh hi” you smile at him, playing dumb and pretending like you weren’t just trying to avoid him…again

Remus stops in front of you “I’ve been trying to catch you all day!” he laughs a little bit while you feel guilt swell in your stomach “Merlin I’ve missed you so much” he confesses right away 

Dammit, you think, finding yourself folding as you stare up at those big brown eyes of his, it didn’t help that your new little wolfy self was acting up either

You’d noticed the heightened senses, your hearing was impeccable now, and you finally understood why Remus was so prone to irritation, you almost smacked poor Amos in potions earlier for stirring the cauldron a little too loudly. Turns out smell was no different either, Remus smelled absolutely divine, and your wolf earned for him.

“Bun?” he gently prods and your heart breaks…you weren’t his bunny anymore

The realisation causes you to crumble, almost knocking him over as you wrap your arms around his torso, burying your face in his chest

He chuckles at that, oblivious to the turmoil inside “I’ll take that as you missed me too” he returns the hug, nose finding your hair

Merlin you smelled great, more so than normal, your pheromones always drove him nuts around the full moon but it was on overdrive now, so much so he finds himself gently shifting, unable to resist waiting to kiss you in a more private location as he brings one hand up to cup the back of your head, while he uses the other to guide your gaze back towards him, but as he moves in he notices the slight glisten in your eyes 

“Is something wrong?” he asks, large hands finding your cheeks 

You freeze, you never wanted to lie to Remus, you never thought yourself capable, and perhaps you aren’t not truely “I…I wish I could’ve spent the summer with you” it’s not a lie…because if you had, things would be just as they were and nothing would have to change 

His face softens to a downturned smile, his eyes looking at you with such love “You’re too sweet to me” he brings you back into a warm embrace “I promise we will next year” he tells you, and you squeeze him tighter

You might not want me next year

The next few days went slowly for both of you, you knew Remus had figured out you were avoiding him on purpose. Never before had you been so distant, especially before a full moon. It hurt so much, every time you crossed paths you wanted nothing more than to run to him, hold him, kiss him anywhere he was hurting but you couldn’t. You knew how the full moons affected your boyfriend, in fact you could feel it yourself, that desire to be close to the one you love, if you did go to his dorm as you normally did he would see the scars, he would see the bite mark, he would know you weren’t his sweet little bunny anymore.

You fell back on your bed, eyes glancing over to the clock, you would need to leave soon if you were to get deep enough into the woods. Your eyes started to water, you didn’t want to go, this was only your second moon and it was already unbearable 

You had never felt so alone…

Remus was worried, you never came by to see him, it was so unlike you. These past few days had been so strange to him, he knew something must have happened, he also knew you hadn’t spoken to your friends about it as they seemed just as confused as he did, but whatever it was he couldn’t fix right now

“That's us set up” Sirius pokes his head in averting his eyes from Remus’ unclothed figure “I’m sure she has a good reason moons” 

Remus only nods, waiting until Sirius closes the door before reassuring himself  “She does…” he brings his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them “...she loves us…” he gently rocks back and forth whispering “...she loves us”

Meanwhile Sirius makes it out of the willow, meeting James and Peter as they hide their bags for later “How is he?” Peter asks, looking forlorn as he notices his friend

“He’s putting on a brave face but…” Sirius shakes his head handing his and Remus’ bags to James “...he needs her” he puts simply

“I don’t understand why she didn’t come” James says, feeling genuinely confused as he reaches up to tuck away the last of the bags “Even when they’ve been in a fight she’s always shown up”

“Something must have happened” Peter looks to James “Maybe tomorrow we could go talk to her friends, surely they know” he suggests

James nods, hands finding his hips “Yeah…yeah that sounds good” he agrees, nodding a little more than was necessary in his worry “Sirius that a plan?” he and Peter look towards their friend only to find him looking somewhere between confused and concerned “Sirius?”

After a few more calls and one branch thrown at him Sirius finally responds “I…ugh…look” he can’t even form a sentence, doing a double take at his friends as he points towards the lining of the trees

James and Peter's eyes scan the area, widening with horror as they see you running towards the tree line. The trio look amongst themselves, their eyes doing the talking as they shift, they didn’t have much time to question why you were out here on tonight of all nights but they follow you into a small clearing, watching as you hang your bag on one of the branches, opening it up as you begin to take off your clothes.

Sirius makes a quiet grunt for only the boys to hear as they grasp you are fully stripping down causing them to all look at him instead of you as they give each other confused looks. However you never make it that far, it’s a scream that causes their heads to shoot back in your direction and they watch an all too familiar scene

You did have a good reason for not showing up tonight…and it shattered their hearts

They didn’t have much time to dwell. Sirius jumps into action first, attempting to distract you from clawing at yourself, while James slowly approaches behind with Peter sitting up on his back acting as a lookout for Remus as if you turned he surely couldn’t be far behind. 

You seem a little startled at first before stalking towards Sirius, you seem to note he isn’t scared of you, the boys watch as you calm, your body no longer tense, nor sensing you are in danger and so you let them guide you warily through the woods. In all honesty the boys had no idea what they were doing, they figured if you could sense that Sirius wasn’t a threat then maybe you and Remus would recognise each other as such as well…hopefully

As they came towards the clearing they could hear Remus as he whined in pain but the boys had no time to react as you already bolted off. Startled, they try to catch up, but as they move past the tree line they realise you’ve already made your way to him, growling. 

Shit

They’re eyes flick between one another, worried they had made the wrong choice until they watch Remus relax, the two of you sniffing around each other before you begin to lick his wounds and it dawns on them that you weren’t challenging him, you were berating him for hurting himself.

The rest of the moon went by smoothly, the best the boys had ever seen and it was all thanks to you. By the end Sirius and Peter had managed to herd you and Remus back into the willow while James headed back to get your bag

“I can’t believe it” Peter says in astonishment, sliding down the roots to sit at the entrance beside James “No wonder she’s been acting off”

James hums in agreement, fiddling with the strap of your bag “She doesn’t deserve this…neither of them do” he states, sadness washing over him “Man…this gonna break him when he wakes up, he loves her so much”

“He does…” the boys jump a little as Sirius reappears from the willow “I didn’t want to go in fully for y/n’s sake...but I’ve thrown the blanket in that general direction and well…it’s not like they haven’t seen it all before” he makes a face, chuckling softly with the other two as lowers himself to the ground to join them as they decide to try and get a little bit of sleep

At first you didn’t know where you were, eyes opening slowly to survey your surroundings, you had expected to wake up in a ditch somewhere but not…wait. Your eyes widen, jolting up with a slight hiss as you look around, you were in the shack but if you were in the shack then that meant…

“Hey…” you jump a little at his voice, slowly turning to find Remus sitting just behind you, posted up against the wall, one leg half bent with his arm wrapped around it “...how are you feeling? Any pain?” he asks, strain evident in his voice, he looks broken and it kills you

You can only shake your head, slowly bringing the blanket up to cover yourself, shivering a little from the cold draft “Rem…” you say so quietly you’re not even sure you’ve said anything at all

“You’re cold” he states, wincing a little as he moves over to you, body still aching from from his own transformation “I’m okay, don’t worry” he assures, knowing exactly what you were thinking “Here” he pulls off his jumper “Hands up sweetheart” 

You do as you're told, allowing him to slip the jumper over your head. He was being so gentle with you, like you might shatter at a single touch, it shouldn’t have surprised you but it did, he must have seen the scars, he must see you differently now…he must…

“Do you think I’m a monster?” you whisper and his movements stop, eyes meeting yours in shock

He blinks at you a couple times before letting out a confused “What?”

Your eyes mist “Do you think I’m a monster?” you repeat, gaze never leaving his

“No” he shake his head firmly, hands finding yours “Never” he says almost harshly, stunned you would ever think such a thing 

“Really?” you eyebrows lift, hope and relief in your voice 

His eyes soften, confusion washing away as he finally sees it, and a bitter sense of deja vu falls over him. Almost a year ago to the day he sat in your position, looking up at you, asking if you fought him, a monster. He even remembers trying to convince you he was but you wouldn’t hear it, you refused to believe he was no matter what he said. In the end he stil didn’t believed it, but seeing you now, looking at you from the other position he realised just how stupid he had been, how much his own self hatred had made you scared to come to him, made you hate yourself the way he had all this time

“Really” he promises “Is…” he hesitates, because he’s almost certain he knows the answer “Is this why you've been avoiding me?” he asks, one hand slipping out of your own to softly cup your cheek

You lean into it, eyes fluttering as your own comes up to cup it “Yes” you confirm and he nods, looking in though “I’m so sorry…I…” he cuts you off 

“Don’t you dare” he warns “You aren’t turning into me, I won’t allow it” both hands are cupping your face now “You haven’t changed, not to me, okay? You are still my girl, still my bu-” but you cut him off this time

“But I’m not I-” you try to argue but Remus isn’t having it

“Stop” he gently shakes your face to regain your attention “You know why I started to call you bunny?” you shake your head “Because whenever you get excited you would do this little bounce, you do it when you’re excited to see me, geeking out about a new book and not to mention when we…” he blushes, stopping himself

You feel heat rush to your cheeks “Remmyy!” you gently shove him as you bounce a little in faux annoyance, causing you both to let out little laughs 

“There she is” he smiles at you, laughing more as you become self aware of your bounces, getting all shy before him “Nothing you could ever do would make me think you a monster. I’m so sorry bun, I never want you to talk about yourself the way I have, understood?”

You hum in agreement, nodding “...but that means you can’t be cruel to yourself either” you challenge him, holding your pinky up at him as a small smile gracing your face as you do

Remus clicks his tongue, of course you would use this as a way to help him love himself as well “Fine” he promises, taking your pinky “…now come ‘ere” he moves back to sit against the wall once more, patting his lap as he hithers for you to join him while you chew on your lip a little, shyly accepting the offer and moving to straddle his legs 

“There we go” he presses a lingering kiss to your hair, hands wrapping around you while your head falls into his chest “Better?”

“Much” you hum, savouring the moment before you lift your head “I suppose you must have some questions?” you wonder, hands finding his chest, fiddling with buttons of his shirt

“I do” he confesses, it was only natural “My attack is hazy for me now because I was so young…” he softly caresses your cheek “...but it’s fresh for you and I…I don’t want to pry, I can wait until you’re ready” he assures you

You take his hand, pressing a soft kiss to his palm “You remember I told you about my dads case? He was representing the family that was attacked much like you were?” you begin and Remus nods, hands moving to your hips, thumbs gently brushing beneath the hem of his jumper   

“Yeah, in your letters you said they got them all and your dad was taking you up north to celebrate?” he recalls but then his lips part “They didn’t get them all did they?”

You shake your head “Turns out their was a much bigger player, someone else behind the scenes who was pulling all the strings” you explain, eyes falling down to his chest, this is going to kill him

“Love…” he tries to guide you back to him “...who…” but as your eyes meet his and they tell all 

“Rem” you voice trembles a little

“Say it” he begs you

“Greyback” you whisper watching as Remus’ heartbreak sinks into rage, his grip on your hips tightening “Remmy…Rem…”

He doesn’t hear you say his name, everything around him fades as his anger grows. He never wanted to hear that name again, he never wanted to see that monster again but now? All he could think about was ripping him apart, taking away his freedom like he had done to so many, making him feel as weak and powerless as Remus had felt his whole life…how you would now feel your whole life

I’ll kill him

“Rem” you gently cup his face pulling back to you “Stay with me” you kiss him softly

His hands come up to meet yours “But he hurt you, cursed us to be in pain for the rest of our lives…and the worst part is he’ll be revelling in it all…that bastard…he…” his anger sinks into sadness at your comforting touch “he…” he pleads with you 

“He did and we don’t ever have to forgive him but we can't let him take away anything else from us either. He won’t ruin our lives”  you watch remus’ eyes soften and you smile at him trying to lighten the mood “Besides…there's always silver linings”

“And what would those be?” he tilts his head, struggling to see it

“Well…” you move your hands downward and kiss his cheeks “...if your senses are anything like mine I smell great” you giggle and he starts to smile, a loving gaze as he looks up at you “And perhaps more importantly…” you peck his nose making it scrunch in the most perfect way “...you’ll never worry about me during a full moon…” you nudge your nose against his “...and that fantasy you have of us living in your parents old cottage can be real, because…” you lean in close, lips grazing as your foreheads kiss “...you’ll never be alone again”

Remus’ heart feels like it might burst, you were right, there were silver linings. He had no idea what his life was going to be like after Hogwarts, he knew he couldn’t rely on his friends forever, nor could he have asked you to bear that responsibility alone, instead you and he would face it together, care for each other together…heal together

“Promise” he holds up his pinky 

You smile against his lips, wrapping you own pinky around it “Promise” and with that he closes the gap

Thank you for reading ♡ (I promise my writing will get smoother again with time)

[timmydraker]

During a Gala for raising awareness about women’s healthcare, a few heroes show up in both costume and civilian persona.

Wonder Woman is proudly walking around in a Greek style toga and talking about how the women of her home land care for one another and never doubt each others word on health issues. She is shamelessly challenging the men in the audience to better understand the women they claim to love and advocate for.

She’s the most obvious one in attendance, though if you look closer you will see Raven and Miss Martian talking with a the most obviously sexist group of men and making them all sweat bullets.

Others, like Zatana and all of the Bat kids, are in their civilian uniforms.

The most important guest in this line up, in the sense that her husband is making Bruce pout like an angry kitten, is Dinah.

Because Dinah is there to make a speech so naturally her husband Ollie is there to support her.

Yet when the speech is done and the wandering around begins, Bruce watches as Ollie hangs around one person like they’re old pals.

Tim Drake, Bruce’s most professional son during public events, is laughing and clinging to Oliver Queen like he’s some kind of celebrity or cousin he only gets to see once a year. The blond man had his arm around the younger Luke a parent and is chatting away with Tim as the two half talk with business partners and other socialites or so obviously just between themselves that the other people politely leave them to it.

Bruce had never seen Tim so relaxed at a Gala, the growing young man usually taking the time to go full business and organise meetings, deals or just the usual routine of holding reputation.

Yet there is Oliver Queen acting like they’re old friends.

Like Tim is his son.

Naturally, Dick and Barbara notice how Bruce is glaring at Queen and trying to hold back a frown of genuine hurt and jealousy. Part of them feels bad, but Tim and Oliver Queen are both made for this world, so it makes sense they get along in it.

But then Diana, who doesn’t mean any harm and is just talking to Bruce Wayne about how she approves of his work on the ecosystem casually leans down and whispers to him as Batman, “It’s always so nice to see how those two get along.”

Bruce’s eye twitched a little and he doesn’t bother trying to feign curiosity and grumbles out, “explain.”

Wonder Woman laughs loud and cheerful, which the room is now sued to hearing and jsut assume Brucie Wayne is trying to flirt with an Amazon which is not at all surprising.

“Oh, Bruce. Haven’t you noticed how Tim follows Jim’s round whenever they are at the tower? He’s like a little duckling. One time I heard him asking if Ollie wanted to come to his school event to see his science project!”

She goes on to talk about how Ollie must seem like an uncle to him and doesn’t pay attention to Bruce’s internal spiral.

By the end of the night Bruce looks like he might start crying, though only his children can see that.

Tim and Ollie finally make their way towards him after having a talk to some older woman about something or rather and Bruce puts on a mask quickly, acting as if he isn’t about to strangle Oliver Queen as they get ready to leave.

Dick steers Damian away and asks Duke to get the girls and wait in the car, knowing full well Bruce is going to embarrasses himself.

Rather quickly, Tim picks up on his distress and pulls away from Ollie’s side hug and approaches Bruce, “Is something wrong?”

Bruce smiles a terrifying thing, full of teeth and hidden malice, “Not at all. Tell me, when did you two get so buddy buddy?”

Oliver pales a little, but luckily Dinah is there to stop him from saying the wrong thing.

With a smooth voice she speaks, coming forward to press a kiss to Tim’s head and then back to her husband, “Tim and Ollie met at one of the Drake’s charity events years ago. This really was lovely, but we must be going, I don’t trust the younger kids to bot cause you or with Captain Marvel.”

With that there gone while Bruce is faced with the fact that Oliver may ah e met one of his babies before him.

But Tim isn’t a fool and he loves his dad, so he hugs Bruce around the waist and clings to him like he’s ten instead of twenty two. He leans back just slightly and gives a cheeky grin with a softness in his eyes, “I love you, dad.”

Dick coos while Barbara snaps a photo as Bruce squeezes his son and somehow manages to not cry.

[hoshigray]

𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐓𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤 | choso kamo

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Finding out your boyfriend's a vampire was far from the chill evening you planned with him. But you can't lie, imagining those fangs sinking down on and sucking on your skin....it's kinda hot.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: vampire bf! Choso x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern! au - oral (m! receiving) - handjob - fingering (f! receiving) - nipple play (licking, sucking, tweezing, fangs grazing) - piercings (nape and frenum) - biting (wrist, shoulder, breast, implied more afterwards) - Choso got a long schlong, rip - missionary position - overstimulation - clitoral play (swiping) - cervix fucking - the first time you and Choso have sex + you two being nervy/cute - pet names (angel, baby, princess) - Choso takes blood supplements + drinks pigs blood - Yuuji is his half-brother - mention of blood (duh) and saliva/spit - proofread but will check for more l8r.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.4k (bro, wtf???)

𝐀𝐮��𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: y'all watched that new ep, right? right. anywaysss, in celebration of choso [and yuuji]'s big fight being animated, i was thinking of vampy bf! choso for a few days and how cute/hot that would be! soooooo, enjoy~~ ☆ and tysm for 2.6k!!

“Sooo, you two gonna like fuck tonight?”

“Whatever happened to ‘How’s your day,’ ‘You doing okay,’ or ‘You still haven’t offed yourself after midterms,’ Nobara?”

“Yeah, my day is going fine, but answer the question.” 

“I swear to Christ…” you sigh heavily as you walk down the sidewalk. 

The month of October brings more dread to your being than anything else. As much as you want to be festive, order a pumpkin latte, and chill watching the leaves fall gracefully with the autumn times, college life does whatever it takes to prevent that. And what better way to do that than have you suffer with midterm exams. 

You and your roommate, Nobara, have experienced the worst, especially this week. Having to study and pull all-nighters so much that you two can count with four fingers at max how many hours of sleep you get daily. Whatever gets the work done. However, it shouldn’t cost you your necessary slumber. Even your other best friends, Yuuji and Megumi, are victims of the tests. Hell, Yuuji found out he had an exam the day BEFORE and had to come in clutch by spending the entire day finishing the two-page study guide!  

All four of you are depleted of fun; it’s non-existent as you try to navigate out of this academic hell…Despite that, though, there’s one thing you’re always looking forward to during the week: the weekend! Oh, yes, today is finally Friday. You’ve been anticipating this day throughout the week, finally done with your exams and ready to relax with your friends after so much schoolwork. But that’s not the only thing you’re looking forward to…

Because this weekend, you’ll finally be with your boyfriend, whom you haven’t seen since the start of midterms. Choso Kamo, Yuuji’s older half-brother and the man of your life, is the only person you’d love to see sweep you off your feet and take you in his loving arms, away from all the stress and discomfort from your college life. The two of you have been dating for almost a year, and he’s, without a doubt, the sweetest guy you ever got lucky with. 

Since the start of this semester, it’s been hard for you two to meet at one place, let alone get on the phone. With you on campus and he outside with his job as a piercer, there have been times when you thought you’d never see him until winter break. Yet, it is now fall break, and Yuuji invited you and the gang to have a relaxing weekend at Choso’s place (with his permission). You accepted the invitation with a gleeful heart, practically bouncing and giggling at the thought of being in the same place as your partner again. And that’s where you’re heading now, walking down the sidewalk to his townhouse with a duffle bag full of your stuff, and you on the phone with Nobara to keep you company. 

“All I’m saying is,” the brunette starts on the other side of the line. “If there’s ever a good time for you two to get it on, it would be this weekend.”

“I’m sorry, since when has my sex life been on your mind instead of studying for the exam you have in ten minutes?” You hear your roommate suck her teeth, and you grin with satisfaction. “Besides, he and I are waiting for the perfect time to do it, no rush. And seeing as you, Megumi, and Yuuji will be in the same place as us, I highly doubt we’d ever think of having sex.”

“Hmm, fair point —KNOCK KNOCK— WHO IS IT!!?” You almost remove the device from your ear from Nobara’s abrupt yelling. “Sorry, Y/n. Megumi is here and says we gotta head to the classroom right now.” 

“That’s fine. I’m already at Choso’s place, anyway. See you guys later, and good luck with the exam.”

“‘Kay, see ya later.” She bids you farewell. “Also, if you two ever do it this weekend and you don’t tell me, as your best-est friend, I have legal rights to make sure all your cute underwear gets thrown out next time I take out the trash.”

“Good-fucking-bye, Nobara.” You scoff, your thumb already pressing the end call button and stuffing the phone in the pocket of your leggings. 

In just the nick of time, you make it to Choso’s townhome and climb up the stairs to knock on the door. Within seconds, Yuuji opens the door and greets you with a hug. 

“Y/n!” He’s always so eager and chipper when he sees you. “I was just about to text you; gotta run to the grocery store, then head to the pizza shop to place the order.”

You enter the foyer to remove your shoes while the salmon-haired other rushes to put his on. “Oh, how come?”

“The phones and websites seem to be down, so I gotta head there in person to place the order. But don’t worry, I’ll be right back before Megumi and Nobara.” He stands to open the door again before grabbing his car keys from the rack. “Choso’s up in his room right now, so you can say hi and chill with him while I’m gone.”

“All right,” You watch Yuuji run down to the sidewalk before he stops to shout something in your direction.

“Don’t do anything too crazy, ya lovebirds!” He sends you a cheeky grin, and you give him a playful glare with puffed cheeks.

“I won’t; go get the pizza!” He laughs at your response as he jogs down the street to his car, and you close the door when you see him drive off. 

Alone with Choso…The thought of being alone with your boyfriend for a few hours has the butterflies in your stomach become active, fighting the urge to smile with warm cheeks. It’s been a hellish month thus far. Finally, after all this time, being in your boyfriend’s arms is enough to wash off all the stress you’ve pent up for the past couple of weeks.

With glee in your steps, you tip-toe up the stairs with wholesome thoughts of you and your boyfriend. I wonder if he’s been eating right these days. Same with getting sleep, he has a bad habit of sleeping at ungodly hours…Oh my God, wait, are we going to sleep together? If so, it'll be the first time we share a bed together. Does that mean—

You mentally slap yourself out of your delusion when you stop at his bedroom door. Oh, snap out of it, Y/n! That’s just Nobara getting into your head. Plus, it’s not like you two will be by yourselves for the entire night —  the other three will be here. Hell, his own younger brother will be across the exact hallway! Don’t think such horny shit, for God’s sake…

You shake your head to abolish the impure thoughts, raising your fist to knock on your boyfriend’s door. “Chocho?" You greet with a nickname. "It’s me, Y/n. I just got here and—“ 

CRASH!!

The sound makes you jump, halting you from finishing that sentence. Rushed footsteps and another noise that something was bumped into follow along. “Ch-Choso? Everything all right?”

“Y-Yeah, I’m good,” you can tell even from outside the room his voice had an unsure tone; he was, in fact, not good. “Just wait, I gotta—Ow!!”

You know you shouldn’t have done what you’re about to do as it goes against basic etiquette; however, when you hear sudden cries of pain from your boyfriend, how in the world would you stay still!? With a chewed lip, you grab the door handle and bust it open to enter his room.

You know you shouldn’t have done that. Because what you see before you is way beyond your comprehension. 

The carpeted floor had items all over the place. There are packets filled with what appear to be red liquids and tiny red pills contrasted with the white carpet. They must’ve been knocked over and made that noise. Suddenly, you notice a stain on the white mat in a bright red color. That was the thing that alerted your nerves, immediately searching for the figure standing behind the bed. It was your boyfriend, Choso Kamo.

But was it him? Because what on earth were you looking at!?? He still had the same face, light brown hair that was usually tied up now fell to his neck, his black “tattoo” on his face now red and leaking down to his chin. And his mouth was agape, your eyes noting that his canines were extended out more than usual with red fluid at the ends. Not to mention that the man was now shirtless! His bare chest and abdomen out for you, covered with smeared….Is…Is that blood?

Choso slowly moves his hands up in defense. “Y/n…Just stay calm for me, okay?”

The entire scene was too much for your brain to grasp, your breathing increasing to an unstable pattern, and your eyes looking at every jarring detail doesn’t help ease the thoughts going way too fast for you. The worried expression of your boyfriend has your body at a standstill, and your limbs quiver as if you’re about to give way. So, what are you left to do?

You faint.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

He stares at you, and you stare at him.

He averts his gaze shyly away from you, and you keep yours fixated on his.

Brown orbs teeter meekly to your figure sitting on his bed before reverting back to the other side, and yours refuse to leave his face, practically sinking holes into his forehead. 

This has been going on for five minutes ever since your consciousness returned, and Choso cleaned up the mess in his room and himself — now, he wears a black tank top after cleaning the red stains off his body. After giving you an explanation as to what happened, you haven’t said a single word to him. You only stare at him while pondering questions of your own. And you can tell the lack of communication makes the poor man uncomfortable in the confines of his bedroom. So, for his sake (and your headache-inducing curiosity), you eventually uttered something.

“So,” you say the first word with a long pause, treading carefully on which questions to ask. “Those pills…are filled with blood?”

“Yes…” He admits with his gaze still not away from you. 

“And you take them every day?”

“Twice a day…”

Okay…Next question, “And those small packets,” you point to the dresser where a pile of said red packets stack upon one another. “Also blood?” He nods slowly. “Human blood?”

He finally brings his eyesight to you but with a hurried shake to the head. “No, no! It’s pig’s blood.”

Is that worse or better?? Never mind— You then point to your set of canines. “And your teeth, I’ve never seen them that long...”

“They only get like that when I don’t drink blood for a while. So, when you knocked on my door, I was just about to open a packet. But then I heard your name and kinda panicked…”

“Oh my God…” Everything comes together and hits you all at once. From his pale skin contrasting yours, the unusual tattoo across his face now revealed as a blood mark, or all those times you caught him drinking his super red "beet juice." It all comes down to the only acceptable truth that feels foreign to leave your lips. “…..My boyfriend is a vampire.” 

Choso cringes internally at the words you uttered. The truth has finally come, and he didn’t even mean for it to happen, at least not like this. Who in their right mind would want to reveal to their partner that they’re a blood-sucking monster? It’s the most dreadful talk of his life that Choso has done all his years avoiding. And now you, his sweet, perfect thing, have discovered his abnormal existence.

“That’s…” He cringes harder when you say more words. “So...” Anxiety pools his stomach, mind filled with uneasy guesses on what you’d think of him now. He could only assume the worst; it’s only natural. “...Cool!!”

Wait, what? That’s not what he expected. Way off, actually.

He feels the dent of the bed when you move closer to him, your face merely inches away from his as you examine every single feature of him. It takes the vampiric man aback, holding his breath while watching your face stare at him intensely with your beautiful eyes, beaming with excitement and wonder. And his vision slowly drifts to your lips, watching them move as you ask questions. And he keeps staring until, “—so…Choso!!” He snaps his orbs back to yours, his cheeks blossoming pink. “I’m asking you a question. So, since you’re a vampire, how come you’re not melting or sparkling when the sun touches you? Is that why you wear black all the time?”

“You mean that stuff from the books and movies?” He questions your logic, but it’s not your fault; he’s sure many others would’ve asked the same. “I don’t know about melting, but my skin gets dry if I stay out too long.”

You hum along to his answer, nodding as if you were in a lecture. “How come Yuuji isn’t a vampire, or at least half? Wait, does he know!?”

“No! No, he doesn’t. I became a vampire because my father was a vampire and turned me and my mother into one. I think I was around the age of twenty. After she died and my dad found Itadori’s mom, he didn’t change her into one. So, with that luck, I guess he isn’t fully a vampire. But I wouldn’t blow past it if he has some characteristics…”

“I see.” Again, you nod along. That might explain some things, like why he’s so fricken fast when he plays sports and that crazy-like strength he has… “So, how long have you been like this?”

“Almost a hundred and thirty.” 

Woah. “And when have—I’m sorry, how long have you tasted human blood?”

Choso ponders on that question for a few seconds before answering. “I started when I became one. I try not to have it as I did back then; the last time I had it was around two years ago. But even then, I switched more into donated or pig’s blood for the past four decades.” 

“Do you ever have cravings for human blood?” Was that too much to ask? It possibly was because Choso makes a face that conveys slight objection. Yet your mind genuinely wanted to know.

“I do, but I try not to act on them. Especially now that I have a human brother, and you…I guess it doesn’t feel right that I do so, ya know.”

His response replays in your mind, not because you were confused but because you understood where he was coming from. You’re sure it wasn’t easy for him to go around and sink his fangs into human flesh back then; modern times should make the task a lot easier with so many people on this earth. Although, you can imagine how hard it must have been for Choso to ignore an urge like that, specifically when it caters to his whole being. Alternatives such as pills and blood packets can only do so much.

“..…Have you ever thought of biting me?” 

The question came out on its own as your curiosity got the best of you. Yet you don’t regret asking because it’s not impossible to think of ever happening.

Choso’s brown eyes look into yours sincerely, releasing a heavy sigh as if the truth was weighing him down. “…Yes.” 

Your expression doesn’t change, remaining neutral. There’s no point in asking why because you can practically answer that yourself: he doesn’t want to hurt you. He’s very considerate, so no wonder he’d put your health and well-being above all else. So, why not do the same for him? “…Would you like to taste mine?”

His eyes widen at your proposal, surveying your face to see any twinges or crack soft a smile that entails a joke. There were none, your expression exhibiting nothing but honesty. “A-Are you sure??”

You nod with a smile. “Yup. I mean, it’s not every day someone gets to have a vampire taste their blood — let alone see a vampire, period. Besides,” you stretch out your arm, your wrist stationed in front of Choso. “If it were any other random vampire, I’d probably throw garlic their way.” 

The man scoffs at your comment. “Something also you see in books and movies, Y/n.”

“Whatever,” the two of you laugh at your silliness. “But I’m serious, Chocho. I’m fine as long you’re the one doing it. So, go on.” 

A moment of hesitation keeps him in his thoughts, the mental cogs of his brain deciphering what course of action he should take. But he does take your wrist with a large hand, bringing it towards his mouth. And before you know it, the vampiric man unsheathes his fangs out for display and sinks them into your flesh, tearing the skin as they pierce through. 

The sharp pain was expected, but you still forced your eyes shut and took in a big inhale. Choso watches your reaction as his fangs take in a sample of your blood for him to taste. The familiar texture of the body fluid courses through him, and drips of it slide down to his tongue. You exhale through your mouth, pursed lips blowing out cool air. It felt as though two needles were simultaneously stabbing your wrist, your hand forming into a fist to situate yourself through the hurtful sensation. 

And Choso just keeps watching you as he drinks your red fluid, taking in your graceful reaction. He knows it hurts, but you don’t say anything, pushing through it for the sake of him. He examines your steady breathing, eyes sewn shut, and plump limps agape for inhalation. You looked so good like this — tasted good as well, very sweet with a floral scent; it must have been your signature perfume. It intoxicates him, thinking of your body and fragrance on him and your sweet taste on his tastebuds. It ignites something inside him. Something that he hadn’t experienced in a long time…

“Choso?” You call out to him as his blinks signal that he heard you. “You done there? Don’t want you sucking my arm dry.” You jest to him.

He takes the hint and removes his teeth from your wrist, licking the two pierced holes of excess blood that seeps out. “My bad.”

You tease him some more. “Do I taste that good to you?” You didn’t expect him to give you a curt nod, a silent compliment from your boyfriend. “O–Oh…That’s good to know…” You say timidly, gaze averting downwards. Then, you notice something in the crotch of his pants. You gasp: a pinched tent. Choso follows your sight, finding out about his predicament to his horror. He opens his mouth to explain himself, but you beat him. “Can I take care of it?” 

Again, Choso tries to say something, but no words dare to come out as you crawl up towards him. His brain short circuits at your movement, his back hitting the headboard of his bed. His blush creeps around to his ears, contrasting his pale skin and chocolate-colored hair. You smile at him; he’s so adorable and shy about this. “Mind I take the lead for a minute?” You ask for permission, even though the answer is quite clear when he peers at your lips. He nods, your face drawing inward and your soft lips landing on his.

One kiss. Two kisses and a moan. Three kisses pass, and it’s at this point that you two can’t get off each other. As his hand snakes to the back of your head to deepen the kiss, he takes your mewls with his lips, the insertion of his tongue making your toes curl. 

Taking the lead as promised, you bring a hand down to the zipper of his ripped jeans, bringing the zipper and the clothing down to throw on the floor. Your fingers curl around the band of his black boxer briefs, pulling them down to reveal his lo— WHAT THE FUCK!!??

His erection springs out from his underwear, and what you’re met with is a fucking behemoth. For one, the thing was way longer than you anticipated — most definitely the longest you’ve had within reach. And because of its length, it looked so pretty to look at. The way his precum trickles down his glans to the underside is so magnificent to your eyes that you’re practically stuck looking at it. And…Is that a piercing right at his frenulum? Oh, wow. Vampire dick, huh.

“Heh, you like what you see, princess?” Suddenly, you feel so small from being called out with that little tease from your boyfriend. You give him a condescending expression, making him chuckle to himself. And who told him to call you that cute nickname!?… Keep going.

Back to the matter, you ogle at his dick again and mentally prep yourself by slowly moving your hand toward it. Your fingers curl around the base and unhurriedly stroke him to figure out a good pace to start. A moan from Choso entails that you know what you’re doing, so you dial up the speed and go further up, stopping your strokes from his piercing down to the base.

He becomes more vocal as your friction becomes more confident, spitting on your hand and tightening your grip to make it easier for his rough skin to slide across your palm. Sticking with a firm and consistent rhythm, you watch your hand go to work on his shaft, watching more of his precum leak and slide down to your fingers. It was so lewd yet so arousing; you feel the throbbing heat between your legs begins to form, swaying your ass to ease the pleasurable sensation while instructing a pornographic act.

“Ahhh, ahhnn, oh shit…” He stammers to give you a proper response, your hand feeling too good. “Oh fuck, your hand feels so good, angel, so goo—Nhhhh!!”

“Really?” You can’t deny the pride you feel for yourself, so you move down to situate between his legs. “That’s all that matters, then.” You bring your free hand to massage his testicles and cover more surface, and more of Choso’s whines and croaks fill the space, his hips bucking to ensure more friction and pleasure on his end.

With the rate this is going, more of his essence leaks out from his urethra, and the raunchy image playing right in front of you has your lips quiver. An intrusive thought roams around your brain while looking at his pink glans. You chew on your lips as you decide on what to do. And when you finally do, it’s now or never.

With a gulp, you bring the tip of his cock to your lips, and the man sharply gasps at the wet sensation of your tongue on his glans. The precum leaves a salty aftertaste on your tastebuds, proving that this is happening: you’re giving your vampiric boyfriend a blowjob right now. Deciding to take things to the next level, you intake more of his inches as much as you can. Not the whole thing because you know you’d probably choke, so you take your time inhaling his length at a comfortable pace and manner. And once you bob your head, the hisses and groans from Choso should give you an idea that he’s feeling elated.

“Haahh…Mmmph…Y/n, your mouth feels so good—Oh shit…” He brings a hand down to the top of your head, a sign you can guess that he wants you to keep going. And so you do, speeding up your motions. Your mouth sucks and teases the underside of his dick, your tongue curves and licks around the piercing of his frenulum, and he jerks when you slowly teasingly lick from the base to the tip. You bring your hand to the rest of the inches you couldn’t cover, your pretty fingers sliding up and down his dick while your free hand comes to his balls for you to massage. The sudden contact of your hands wasn’t expected, his body jolting to the sensations of your tongue and fingers around him, kneading his scrotum as you playfully lick on his cockhead. “—Khhh, ohhhh, fuck…Y/n, baby, I’m—Ahahhh!!”

From the sound of it, he was bound to release his load. So you prepare and bring the tip back into your warm mouth, urging the man to climax. With a few more pumps from your hands coinciding with the laps and sucks of your plump lips, he ruts his groin to your face as his essence spreads inside your oral cavity. And you take it like a champ, sucking every pump to your throat, not letting the tip go until he finished. So, once his body calms down, you release him, wiping off the trail of saliva from your mouth.

Yet it doesn’t stop there; of course, it doesn’t.  Because Choso’s cock is very much still sprung and active from your blowjob, meaning it’s inevitable that you’re going to move on to the next phase. And judging by the sheer length of this thing, you have no idea how that shit is gonna fit inside of you. Damn, vampire dick sure is something…

“Y/n?” You snap back from your thoughts when Choso calls out to you, noticing you gawking at his size. “You don’t have to do the rest if you don’t want, baby. I can take care of it.”He’s so sweet looking out for you as he’s aware that you’re a little worried. 

But you surprise him when you exit off the bed for a quick second, removing your leggings and underwear for the carpet to keep for you. The same thing goes for your matching bra. And as you crawl back to bed, his wide eyes never leave your lower figure, watching you lie on your back with your head on a pillow and your legs spread wide. “As long as you take the lead, I’ll be fine, Chocho.”

It’s his turn to gulp and ease his dry throat before getting on his knees and positioning himself between your legs, dark brown orbs intaking every detail of your cunt that’s exposed for him. You chew on your lip, “It’s embarrassing if you stare so hard at it, ya know…”

“S-Sorry,” He apologizes while getting back to the task. He grabs ahold of his length and aligns the tip to your wet entrance, and your breath hitches at the contact. “I’ll go real slow, okay?”You give a couple of honest nods for confirmation, and he watches your breathing. When he notes your inhales and exhales, he pushes into your folds. With every inhale you take, he nudges further into you. The pain gets bitter and bitter by the second, and your hands grip the sheets beneath you. “Relax for me, angel, relax.” He comes down to whisper those words to ear; swear to God, you could’ve moaned right there and then. However, you switch your focus to following his advice, reminding your body to stop resisting the unfamiliar limb making entry. The pain is still present, but you count your breaths to distract your mind until the tip finally makes it in, a sharp gasp sneaking past you and a hiss from Choso when you involuntarily grasp around him while he pushes more of him inside.  

However, he doesn’t move right away, giving you as much time as you need to catch a steady pattern to breathe along with. Your head already feels too hot, and your chest feels too tight to breathe. You peer down to find that he is only halfway in, and there’s no amount of words to describe the disbelief you’re experiencing at this moment. “I feel…so full already…” You nearly choke on your words. You can practically feel his piercing scrape your insides.

“I know, princess,” he comforted you with a kiss on the forehead while lifting your shirt, your chest meeting his cold, slender fingers that massaged your mounds. All the while, he pushes his cock further into your chasm, and your breathing goes shaky as you try and take every inch of him. Then all of a sudden, your body jolts upward when you feel the tip of his cock hit your cervix; you can only guess now that everything’s entirely inside you. Oh yeah, vampire dick is most definitely something else. Tears start to water your eyes, and your hands come around Chos’s neck, the coldness of his nape piercing greeting your skin. “—Mmmm, fuckin’ Christ…I’m gonna go start moving now, Y/n.”

You appreciate the warning because, with the way his hips start to create a motion to and fro from your entrance, it’s surreal that his shaft is churning your inner wall with minimal effort. Shivers crawl up your spine every time the base meets your southern lips, grazes to your most tender spots result in you chewing on your bottom lip, and God, the occasional jab to your cervix is something you’ll have to get used to. He sucks on one nipple while the other hand tends to the other, the laps of his tongue on the bud of your breast feel so good, and you gasp when his fangs lightly graze it. So exhilaratingly dangerous. 

“Choso—Ohhhh…” you coo, your head thrown back when he tweezes your nipple simultaneously with the jab to your cervix. The pace of his thrusts increases a tad, and your voice becomes more vocal than before, filling his bedroom with your breathy whimpers. “So big, you’re so big for me—Ohooo!”

“—Mmfhh!! Fuck, you feel so good for me, princess…Shiiiit—” The way your cunt wraps around him so tightly causes him to rut into you harder and faster, evoking spine-chilling whines from your puffy, bitten lips. Your disheveled figure squirms on the sheets, holding onto Choso for dear life as he churns your tummy insides. Your fragrance attacks his nose when he kisses your neck, nibbling the skin to listen to your cute gasps more. Then, the urge rises. He opens his mouth for his fangs to scrape your neck.

“Ahahhnn!! Ch–Chosooo!!” 

Your voice halts his unconscious, realizing what he was about to do and quickly withdrawing his teeth from your neck. No, not now… He thinks to himself, moving his fangs to your shoulder instead. The bite elicits a sharp shriek from your unbeknownst self. Your nails dig into his shoulders, the pain motivating him to explore more of your body with your mouth. 

You can feel his kisses trail down your collarbone and breast, sucking on your nipples once more before leaving a tiny bite. You clamp around his girth as a response, which jabs into your cervix repeatedly with precision. More kisses and licks later, and he leaves a bite mark by your collarbone, sucking on the spot to taste more of your sweet blood. Your mind goes dizzy with the constant of his lips and teeth, and the commotion down south has you wrap your legs around him, caging him in as your climax is soon to come.

“—Nnaahh! Ahaahhnn!! Oh, God, Ohmyfuckin’Go—Hhmmff!!” Choso leads a hand down to your clitoris, and you see stars in no time. “Chosooo!! Yer handsss, you’re gonna make me cummm!! Ooooh, shhahhh!!”

Choso listens to your pleas with attentive ears, his fingers swiping rampantly on your clit. Your choked sobs are so beautiful to hear. The way your walls grasp around his length entails you’re about to come on him any second now. “Go on, my angel. Ring me out—Hnnghh!! So fuckin’ tight…”

Erratic ruts to your sloppy cunt cause wet noises to fill your eardrums, and the heat in your face is unbearable while your head pounds harshly. With the swipes on your clit and him grinding his cock to your tender spot, it’s apparent that you two come concurrently. He fills your cunt with his anticipated load while your velvety walls contract around him euphorically, and exchanged pants fill the space between your sweaty bodies. 

The two of you experience shocks of your own as your heaving bodies rest on each other, Choso nuzzling his face to your neck as his hand softly massages your breast. Your body calms down, gradually exiting your blissful haze. But it tenses again when you feel another sharp pain in your shoulder, and you snicker while pulling his ear to tease. 

“Let you have a taste, now you’re already hooked, huh…”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Choso uses a washcloth to dab on the bite marks around your body, gently pressing down on it and wiping off any blood that leaves your newly added markings. The warm cloth feels good on your cold skin — as if the stinging sensation subsides in seconds. 

“You know,” You hum along as he takes care of your body. “I didn’t think you’d be that much of a biter.”

“Sorry,” he moves to your front, dabbing the teeth marks on your breasts and shoulders. You can see the hint of pink that flushes his cheeks and ears. “Got a little carried away…”

You giggle. “No need to apologize, Chocho.” The nickname has him blush harder. He’s so cute when he’s flustered. “Just goes to show that you were enjoying the moment.”

His hands suddenly stop moving, the washcloth now around your wrist. “…Did you?” Caramel eyes dare to peek at yours. “Did you enjoy it?”

You could tell that the question carried a deep-rooted meaning. Not only was this the first time you and Choso had sex, but it was also within the same day you found out he was a vampire. If you were in his shoes, you could guess he’d probably think you didn’t like the experience or found it heavily discomforting. Yet that wasn’t the case at all. So, you have to communicate that to him. 

With a warm smile, you let him know, “Yes, I did. I had a great time.” Before you can say more, a random thought prompts you to ask a question. “Hey, I felt you were about to bite my neck, but you didn’t.”

 “Hmm? Oh, umm, yeah, I did. The only way for someone to become a vampire is by biting the neck,” He confirms, his gaze drifting down to your wrist as he uses the wet cloth to dab on the mark. “But I don’t want you becoming one now. At least, not without you telling me.”

“Wait, you don't want me to be a vampire?”

“I mean, that’s up to you, honestly. As much as I love you and would love the idea of spending my life with you, that’s only my selfish wish at the end of the day. The choice should be yours to make, not mine.”

You remove your hand from his hold and place it on his cold cheek. The other hand comes up to cup the other, provoking your boyfriend to look directly at you. 

“You’re so sweet, you know that?” You have never seen his face change into a flash of pink so quickly; it makes you giggle at him. “Chocho, I appreciate you telling me the truth about yourself. I’m sure it’s been hard on you to carry this burden of pretending to be something you’re not, especially with me. So, again, thank you…However, I can’t really see myself as a vampire, at least right now. My life seems to be at a good place right now, and I want to experience it first-hand, ya know. With you by my side.”

You know Choso is listening to you word-for-word; his brown eyes never leaving your face is evidence of such. So you continue: “So, until then, let me be human for a while longer. When the time is right, I’ll let you know. Sounds good?”

The brown-haired man gives you a smile before answering, resulting in yours broadening. “I’m cool with that.”

You nod. “Cool.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…You want more of my blood, huh.”

“…..I’m sorry,” you laugh at his awkwardness. “You just smell so good. And you taste sweet…”

“In that case,” you withdraw your hands from his cheek and extend an arm out for him. “Have one last taste.”

There’s hesitance when his hand grabs ahold of your wrist. But when he knows you’re complying and on board with this, Choso brings your wrist to his lips, his fangs pierce down on your skin, and he sucks your blood. The pain this time around wasn’t too excruciating. Maybe with all the bites you have on your body right now, you came around and got used to it. 

And who knows? Perhaps you’ll grow to love the sensation soon enough.

“Yo! I’m back!” The two of you freeze. A familiar voice from the other side of the hallway brings you back to the present moment. You then remember that Yuuji promised to return from the store and pizza place. And seeing as though time has passed enough for him to be done, the warmth of your body shifts to a disturbing shiver when the bedroom door opens up. “I got the pizzas and left them on top of the oven—“

The salmon-haired other stopped mid-sentence when his eyesight landed in your direction. You can only imagine what’s going through his mind when he looks at you and Choso because that was the same experience you went through a few hours back.

Yuuji looks at the two of you on top of the bed. Clothes decorating the carpeted floor, both your bodies free and nude, your tits out for him to see crystal clear. One of your hands holds a washcloth that harbors red, bloody stains. The other hand stretched out towards Choso’s mouth, where the younger notices fangs withdrew from your wrist. The newly drawn blood from your new mark connects to the sharp teeth of his older brother.

Thirty seconds go by where no one says anything, just three pairs of eyes and figures falling victim to the discomfiting silence of this situation. Until Yuuji starts to uncomfortably laugh at the sight before him for a few seconds. And then suddenly, he stops, and his balance gives way for his body to meet with the floor beneath him.

He fainted.

♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly <3 header art by rororogi mogera + dividers by the amazing @/cafekitsune!!

[leclsrc]

wanna be nearer ✴︎ mv1

genre: 18+, fuck buddies ahhhaha, smut, porn w/o plot basically...

word count: 3.6k  

It seems every time you tell yourself to stop, Max comes back into your life and all sense of resolve crumbles. title from this

auds here… hiii :) req'd by SO MANY PEOPLE i can't even start compiling all the asks hahah but if u asked for this here it is! writing's been tuff for me lately but this was the one thing i could continue daily (weird) also there is a case to be made re: max's hottest pictures being like 1 pixel in resolution... hope u all like it!!!

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... sexual tension, penetrative sex, some vague sexting/a sex tape being watched, praise/dirty talk central, size kink, unprotected sex, handjob (f receiving), max being a meanie

It’s busy today. You haven’t seen him all day. 

To be fair, you weren’t necessarily looking—not at first, anyways. How many days had it been since the last time, now? The one in your hotel room? Almost two weeks, you think. The real answer’s blurry in your head, especially when you count the close calls, but this should be a record for you two at this point. Neither of you acknowledge that the only reason you’ve been so good at staying away from each other is because when you’re not roped into the same media junket, you avoid each other at all costs.

The media pen is full; everybody’s shoulder-to-shoulder because a few other networks bought their way into the space for the Singapore race. Right when your mind settles back into the focus of work, though—

“Here,” he says, his voice rough and tickling your ear. You nearly stumble forward, shocked at how his voice almost vibrates through you, a low trill that ripples top to bottom.

His hand settles at the small of your back, like his verbal confirmation wasn’t enough on its own; it’s big and his thumb rubs softly at the smooth strip of skin in-between your low skirt and your top. “Passing through.”

“Sure,” you say, dry. “Sorry.” You clear your throat and cant backwards into his touch—briefly, before you step forward and allow him to pass fully. Across you, Lissie looks up from her phone and you sense her trying to gauge why you’re so close to Max.

You blink and wait for him to disappear, wondering what you’ll tell her—how, more like. How the conversation even opens. How you’d phrase the truth, which in itself is a horribly grey area. Well, Lis, if you must know, Max and I have casual sex. A lot. It’s actually not very casual. We stopped now, but—yes, Max. That Max, yes. 

“What about Max?”

Your eyes snap upward and then to your left, where you can see Max’s figure disappearing into a crowd of engineers. They return to Lissie and you feign confusion to mask panic. “What?”

“You were spacing out and then suddenly said his name.” She presses the tip of her pen onto her chin, humming. She doesn’t look at you and you thank God for it—eye contact would’ve rattled the truth out of you in seconds.

“I…” You shake your head. “I was irritated with—I’ve been irritated with him all morning. It’s. Yeah.”

“Oh,” she says, nodding, looking away for a second but not pausing. “Oh, okay. D’you wanna go over this edit again?”

—

The stale air of his hotel room, alleviated only by the vaguely fragrant linen spray they use when he’s out, is what greets Max when he arrives in the afternoon.The first thing he does—the only task he’d even thought of en route here—after the door clicks shut is pull up his Messages app and type.

Just got to hotel. He tosses his phone onto the bed while he waits, tugs his cap off and rakes reckless fingers through his hair. His new stylist’s got him onto jeans that don’t “look painted on” (you once said, verbatim), but he’d rather die than lounge in denim, so he swaps them out for just his Calvins.

His mind’s lethargic, but even his version of lethargic is high-drive for others—his brain has the silly tendency to work in absolute overdrive. He itches for a drink and orders a Scotch on the telephone. He checks his phone, which is lying facedown still, and as soon as he picks it up it chimes with your reply.

OK, nice. Did u need something?

No, just wanted to let you know. He hits send, then adds another. You’re off @ 8?

Ended early, I’m in the car. He’s in the middle of drafting a response when you send a follow-up.

I thought we agreed no contact unless business

He scoffs out a dry laugh. Despite himself, he reads the text in your voice, his brain completing the image of the bossy tone with crossed arms and a wickedly arched brow. In response he types: Can’t even update a friend nowadays? I am very tired you know.

Rules are rules, he reads. Then, Get some rest.

Yeah. Got a drink.

I said rest, not drink. Even then he can hear the exasperation in your voice.

How was work? I hurt a muscle doing training. That’s why I’m at the hotel early.

Feel better soon, you send. Had some press stuff today. Boring shit

Yeah? I missed you today.

Really?

A lot. He hums and leans backward, lets his head settle into the pillow, the smell of the linen spray consuming his nostrils. He waits for his phone to buzz, vibrate softly on the hard surface of his chest. It does, after a few minutes, after he’s let his eyes shut and let himself rest them for a bit, after the room service comes knocking and gives him the Scotch he’d requested while ago.

He’s back sitting on his bed when it vibrates. He picks it up and reads: How much?

You’re awfully easy to rile up. He smiles around the rim of his glass—he knows exactly where this is heading. 

So much I think I’ll watch some videos of us.

The only caveat of casual sex as two people who essentially dislike each other is the fact that it’s all under wraps—which means if you two try to sneak off together, or are even caught in the same vicinity, people raise suspicions. And that means there are weeks where you barely get to fuck.

And that means you both grow antsy for it. He makes fun of you for being needy, when you’re tipsy and palming at the denim of his jeans or when you bend over when you know he’s looking. But the truth is he grows needy for it, too, craves you like you’re all that matters—he gets extra handsy, drops another innuendo when he knows you’re listening. There is a case to be made that he’s worse, in fact, because fans sometimes skirt around his words and wonder why he sounds so flirty when you’re the reporter in the room.

It was difficult but eventually he found a minor workaround: sometimes he films the two of you. There’s none of those propping his phone up kind of stuff, he just fishes for it in the middle of fucking you so he can store it for himself. It’s locked on his phone and he only has a few (the few has grown in number lately), but God it gives him release when he needs it and you’re not there.

I’ll call you when I’m at the lobby, comes the response. It’s always futile, the attempts to stay away from each other.

He pulls up the folder and lets his eyes skate over the thumbnails, squeezes himself through his boxers. Fuck. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to watch—the ones of you sucking him off, the ones of his fingers stretching you out. He recalls the whine in your voice in each of them, the pleads that escaped you for him to fuck you harder.

So Max, for the life of him, can’t even count how many times these videos have made him cum. But there’s one he hasn’t seen yet—the one he took the night before you two parted. You’d become extra needy on this night, preceding the season, he supposes, the separation. You already were anticipating the deprivation, starved for him more than usual. He’d have kissed you pretty, given you one orgasm after another and still you’d want more. And on this night it was you who asked him to film, you who wanted all of them on tape, so you’d both have something to tide you over until he got to fuck you again.

He pulls his cock out and strokes over it. And with his other hand, he presses his thumb on that video.

In it he’s fucking you in the dark, keeping the phone’s flashlight on your pussy as he sinks his cock into you. When he pulls back out the light reflects on the slick coating his dick, makes it glisten. It looks so wet, sounds so wet, with each thrust into you. He remembers just how it feels; he imagines that he’s back in your bed, fucking you again; that his fist is your pussy, and the spit lubricating it is the wetness that’s drooling out of you on camera.

He can see how tight you are—the way your pussy grips the shaft each time he pulls his cock out, greedy for him. Just like you.

The two of you were supposed to be quiet, too. You were at a hotel, your room beside another driver’s; you were supposed to be careful not to stir anyone. But your moans are louder than he remembers; so is the way you say, breathily, between gasps, Right there, Maxie, m’so close. Max inhales through his teeth, his cock throbbing at that—that Maxie, the cute little whimper out your mouth.

He strokes himself faster, watches the way your fingers slip into frame to rub at your clit, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. He can see, hear—feel how wet you are, the sound of your cunt growing wetter with every thrust. He hears his own voice again, mutter out So good for me, yeah? And your babbled affirmation in response.

You cum hard, your slick getting everything wet and shiny and Max watches himself cum next. His dick’s already spurting when he pulls out and lets himself release on your lower stomach, some of it shooting onto your tits. He blinks, anchors himself back, quickens his wrist and digs his heels into the bed to keep himself from coming. Just a second longer. He knows what comes next and he needs to see it.

Like clockwork, he watches two of your fingers swipe through his cum, bringing them up to your lips. You blink up at the camera and smile. Quit it, your lips mouth, pink and cum-slick. Put it down, Maxie… fill me up again. He releases in weak spurts over his fist, a damp, flushed grunt escaping him as he does. He feels like the air’s been knocked out of him.

His phone rings and he presses it to his ear. “Hey, angel. Come on up.”

One week later

“Vodka,” you say to the bellboy when you get to the elevator. “To my hotel room. Very cold. Please. And thank you.”

The guy scurries off to fetch it for you, and five minutes and one elevator ride later, you're wrestling himself into your room, flexing your sore foot. Japan does hotel rooms well. The leather of your Manolo digs into your foot the way it does after you’ve walked the entire day and you can feel a blister forming on the back of your right heel but it doesn’t really matter, you guess, if you’re already home. Hotel-home, anyway.

You expect to find solace lounging on your bed, waiting out the hours to your morning briefing for the race and throw back a glass or two of vodka. 

Instead, you find Max on your couch. He’s sipping ice-cold vodka—your ice-cold vodka.

“Hey, pretty,” he says. “Good vodka. I got staff to wire my FIFA on the TV.”

You just stare. “My TV. What,” you say, your eyes spotting the bottle of frosty vodka by his glass, “are you doing here?”

“I hadn’t seen you all day and I wanted to,” he explains simply. “Do you want food or something?”

“Food? I—nevermind,” you shrug. You’re frozen by the door, only just warmed now from the cold air that bit at your bare legs. “Max, how long have you been here?”

“Since Will Buxton started the post-FP debrief,” he huffs. He fiddles with the remote in his grip and extends it to the TV, where FIFA comes to life. “Aw, come on, angel. I know, I know. No sex and all that. I just like your company, you know?”

“Please. Go fuck yourself,” you scoff, toeing off your shoes and wiping your hands on the fabric of your skirt. He says one thing but you expect another—it’s only natural, given all the other times one of you had failed to keep a similar promise. But still you walk yourself beside him, fix the strap of your short dress, and allow him to pour you a drink.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?” He asks absently. “About how you’re always having these talks with me about… about not having sex anymore, but you never even last two days.” He raises you the glass. “What is it, relapsing?”

“Fuck you,” you mutter. “It’s only because you keep trying to get me all hot and bothered.” You recall each time: in Monaco, in Madrid, in France. “Maybe if you got off my back once in a while, we’d be back to normal.”

He shrugs. “You just don’t have strong resolve.”

“Excuse me?” You scoff, irritation scratching at your throat.

“Wanna test that out? Come play.”

Your eyes flit over to the bright screen, all exhaustion cleared from your system. An animated Kylian Mbappe kicks a football in a loop. “Fine. One round and you’re out of my room.” He throws his hands up in surrender and you make a move to sit next to him. Max puts his hands out towards you then, nodding. You mistake it for some handshake, accept them, and then he’s wrangle you onto his lap facing outward. You feel your pulse at your throat as he pulls you tight against him.

“This is cheating,” you say, your voice dry.

“You got it wrong. Teaching.”

He moves his fingers atop yours, explaining what to press, what goes where, what to do for this or that. He can smell your perfume, hear your stilted breaths, and when he peeks over your shoulder he can see where your dress falls loose, showing the lace of your bra and your tits underneath them.

If he had it his way, he’d hike your dress up and have you ride him. But he’s given you a challenge.

You play a practice round and end up scoring a few goals, fingers making quick work of the buttons. Behind you, Max watches, content, answering your questions when you ask them hurriedly—how do I do this? That? Did I just score?

You score once, then twice, then three times, and before you know it you’re scoring in quick succession. The game is fun—it’s easy. If Max was trying to give you a hard time, he failed. You grow determined, competitive within seconds (something he really should’ve anticipated), and you’re scoring goals with skill that you’d confidently say rivals Max’s.

Max. You almost—almost forget he’s there, and then you sit up straighter and you’re hit with the sensation of his dick pressing into your ass. You inhale sharply and the controller clatters to the floor.

“You okay, pretty?” His hand comes up to rest on your knee, inching closer and closer with every hitch of your breath. Your hand, now free of the controller, seizes his, stopping it right at the middle of your thigh. 

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah? You look stressed.” He doesn’t move. “You were so close, too, weren’t you?” The score stares you right in the face: 4-5. “Maybe you just need to get your mind off it.” It’s so bullshit, so extremely obvious, but he’s right in your ear and his hand is so near where you’ve missed its presence.

You’re usually competitive. You can usually hold your ground. But with this and him—

“Maybe,” you breathe, loosening your grip. He spreads his legs, spreading yours in the process, and brings his hand closer, running slender fingers over the lace material of your underwear until you’re squirming. It grows damper the more he touches, your mouth hanging open with stunted whimpers.

“You always come back to me, schatz, don’t you,” he says, whispers against your ear. You wrench a moan out. “Remember the first time? You interviewed me in Abu Dhabi… you teased me the whole day and begged to come thrice in my room. The time in Monaco you touched yourself to me when I was in the next room. The time we almost hooked up in Miami…” He groans, to himself more than you. “You’re a dirty girl.” He’s curling two fingers inside of you now, grazing against the sweet spot pulls the most delicious moans out of your innocent mouth.

“Every time… you go, that was the last time.” While your mind recaps the memories he’s busy spelling into your ear, Max’s fingers are curling inside of you against that sweet spot just right, and your moans are getting louder and louder.

“Fuck,” he huffs, watching your flushed face get more and more euphoric.

“Aw, pretty, look at that,” Max laughs. He’s looking at your thighs, watching the way they tense and shake as his fingers stroke your g spot. Each pump and curl into your twitching pussy feels better and better, and your dripping walls are starting to clench around his fingers.

“Wait, I—I can’t,” you pant, lolling your head onto his shoulder and involuntarily bucking your hips upward. 

“Yeah you can,” he orders. “It’s so easy to get you to cum, isn’t it? Or is that just for me? The driver you hate the most?” He laughs. “Get all wet for the guy you couldn’t care less about. Say you hate me and get my dick nice and wet the next day.” You’re grinding onto his three fingers now, shameless with it.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asks.

“Oh,” you whine. “Yeah, fuck—yes.”

“Tell me what you’re gonna do,” he says wickedly. You can hear him smile.

“I’m gonna—please—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, tension coming to a halt and then bursting all at once out of you. His other arm holds your hips down against him, and you spend a minute and another twitching, your skin sticky with sweat and slick.

It’s not long before you’re whirled back to face him, your hands making quick work of his jeans. It’s a skill you’ve both mastered, the art of the quickie—in closets, hotel rooms, with sweaty, open-mouthed kisses pressed along the column of your throat, moans swallowed. 

He hikes your dress up and your panties to the side, immediately bullies his cock into you—the glide is slow, but easy. You’re so fucking wet.

“Fucking big,” you gasp out. “Jesus, Jesus—fuck.” Your head drops and presses against his; he uses the opportunity to kiss you. You moan into it, feeling the stretch, your slick wetness dragging down the length of him as he thrusts up, up, further. “Been a while.”

“Feel good, though, yeah?” Your toes curl and you nod; you’re flushed all over and you need him to hurry up. You grind downward, onto him. He does, then, fucks you hard and fast, like he’s thirsted for this for way longer than he did. You’re squirming, all wet, and it tempts him to go harder. Your face is shiny with sweat, lips drawn in between your teeth.

“Slo—slow down,” you manage, babbling; he doesn’t, speeding up his thrusts until you’re moaning his name. “Max—wait—fuck, you’re so mean,” you whine, wrapping your arms around him and letting him take control. 

“You’re fine,” he grunts, pulling out almost all the way. “You take my dick so well, schatz, every fucking time. Don’t you?”

“I do,” you gasp out, and he’s slamming into you gain. You cry out loudly, sniffling from the overstimulation—you’d barely recovered from your initial orgasm and already you’re hurtling into what feels like three at the same time. 

“For someone who doesn’t like me,” he sneers, “you sure do moan like a slut, huh?”

His words get you more turned on than you’re willing to admit, but you shake your head.

“No?” He laughs, breathy from the effort. “Maybe I should film you now. Send it to your boss, let him see his stellar reporter’s getting Verstappen’s dick wet.” 

Finally, the tension building inside of you reaches a head, and your pussy starts to twitch around his dick. He notices, grunts sharply and leans forward, shuddering as he releases into you. Your moans are choked and tapering into whimpers as you release slick all over him, and you attempt to catch your breath, collapsing onto his still-clothed, now-sticky chest. You scratch at the dri-fit material and inhale him, the smell of his cologne, his sweat. You bite at his earlobe, laugh when he flinches.

“That,” you say into his skin, “was the last time.” It’s both seriously and as a joke, playing off of what he’d remarked earlier.

“Jesus, princess. I’m still inside you.” 

You giggle and drum lightly along the plane of his chest. In a few minutes he’ll pick you up to shower, but now you’re content to inhale him in. Quietly you wonder why you just can’t get enough of him—if you were in better senses, you’d have realized he was thinking the same thing about you.

[seungfl0wer]

*𝑨𝒓𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒅*

Pairing: Vamp!Bangchan x Vamp!Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Blood/Biting/Blood Drinking (Duh), Slight Mention of cheating/K!lling, Arranged Marriage, people Watching the deed, Oral (Both), Choking, Hair Pulling, Squirting, Multiple Rounds/Orgasms. Sorry for any mistakes or missing warnings! (I’m sure I missed a few this time)

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this cause I had so much fun doing this. This scratched an itch for me fr.

-🧛🏻

He was irritating. The “prince” you had been married off to. He was so full of himself not to mention feared by many. However you saw right through him. You saw the little things that made him crumble. His biggest weakness? You. He wouldn’t admit it but you drove him crazy.

Remembering when he accidentally walked into the bathroom after you had showered. You were completely naked quickly covering yourself up when he had come in. His jaw was on the floor, he stood there for a good minute or two before you yelled at him to get out. He quickly did, running to another bathroom to quickly help himself. He leaned back on the bathroom wall cock in hand as you ran through his mind. The best nut he had, had in a long time.

Both of you being vampires meant you’ve been alive for a while. Although with that being said you’ve never really dated much. You had your fun of course but most of them were quickly made into meals afterwards. Sucking them dry in more ways than one. Chan on the other hand got around a lot. Especially the first hundred years. However he found himself in love for the first time. A beautiful girl who he met at a coffee shop. He didn’t expect to fall in love but he did. He did hard.

Sadly he found the love of his life tangled in bed their own bed one faithful night shattering his heart. The girl told him “you were fun but I have an eternity to live, why would I spend it with one person?” He was broken. He spent days by himself locked away hating the world. Going out at night to feed, he fed even when he wasn’t hungry. The sadness washing away to be replaced with anger. He killed not even wanting to feed, killing to kill.

A decade down the line he was finally getting better. He got his spark back but he never wanted to be in love again. Only going for hookups if he had the need. When the court had come forward asking him to get married he was fully against it. After chipping away at him over the years he finally said yes.

Chan was cold towards you at first, wanting to keep a distance which you were honestly fine with. The whole arranged marriage thing wasn’t something you wanted either however it was best for your own “coven”. It helped spread the boards of your own hunting grounds and broadened the masses together.

The house you were sharing now was massive. Plenty of places to go to be alone but somehow you both found yourself in each other company. You gradually started talking more. Figuring out what you both needed for the members of your covens. Talking about the wedding plans as well.

—

Today was the day of the wedding, it went off well. As you walked down to Chan you noticed him almost getting choked up. He was looking at you in a different way, a way you haven’t seen.

He stuttered over his words as you said your “vows”. His eyes not being able to look anywhere else but you. You swear you could see little hearts in his eyes.

After all the festivities the elders of the coven had come to talk to you both. “It’s time to christen the marriage” they said.

“What does that mean?” You asked.

Chans eyes went wide at their words “there’s no fucking way.” He said.

You looked at him still confused. “What does it mean?” You asked again.

“It means these sickos want to watch us fuck” he said bluntly.

“What??” You asked.

“It’s tradition Chan, if you do not do it the marriage is null” the elder said sternly.

“And why didn’t you tell us about this before” he bit back.

“We thought you knew” the elder shrugged “come to the house over there, we will be waiting” the elder said before walking away.

“You’re fucking kidding me” Chan groaned.

“Do we have to?” You asked.

“Yeah- I guess so?” He said in a huff. “I’m sorry” he sighed.

“Well, why don’t we give them a good show?” You said with a smirk.

You both headed to the house, the room was covered in flower peddles. The bed made up nicely with silky red sheets. You strolled in taking Chans hand “let’s give them a show they’ll only be able to dream of” you said with a chuckle.

Chan made his way to you, before you pulled him into a heated kiss. The first kiss you had shared. It was messy, teeth clashing against one another’s. Tongues colliding with one another. Chans hand glided up your dress pulling your panties down your legs. His hands were a bit shakey as he felt your soft skin against his.

You grinned yourself against his leg letting yourself go. You moaned into the kiss hands coming up to take his shirt off. “Fuck y/n” he groaned out his hands dipping between your legs only to be greeted with how wet you were. Something in him snapped, he couldn’t hold back anymore. He quickly moved himself back pulling your body at the edge of the bed before diving into your cunt like a starved animal. His tongue darted against your clit, hands keeping your legs spread.

He lapped at your folds taking in your sweet taste, your hands clung to his hair back arching off the bed. “Ah- f-fuck!” You moaned out. You tugged on his hair harshly grinding your dripping cunt into his plush lips.

“Mm, fuck- use my tongue my pretty wife” he moaned out. The name making your cunt clench. “Are you all liking the show? Like watching my pretty wife get off on me?” Chan yelled knowing the elders were watching from the glass.

Chans hand moved from your leg, pushing his long fingers into your cunt. He curled them ever so slightly hitting your sweet spots. He had your body shaking, close to orgasm. He moved his mouth from your dripping cunt, lips swollen. He kissed up your thigh before sinking his teeth into it. The slight pain only bringing you pleasure, your body felt like it was levitating. Arching off the bed once more before cumming hard around his fingers. He lapped at the blood only to come back to your cunt to mix the two. His new favorite taste.

He looked up at you with glazed over eyes before coming up to you kissing you messily again. He slipped his pants off stroking his cock slowly. “Chan- need you- fuck please” you whined. He chuckled “whatever my princess wants she’ll get” he slowly pushed his cock into you. Stretching you out so nicely, like he was made for you.

“Sh-shit” he moaned out. He couldn’t stop himself from moving. Your warm cunt sucking him in. His thrusts were slow but deep, Hitting your cervix perfectly. He leaned his body down biting down on your neck before sucking harshly at the spot. When he pulled away he latched his lips back to yours pushing the blood into your mouth. Both of your lips now stained red as his movement became faster.

Drinking from others was one thing but drinking from your partner especially during sex was almost like taking an aphrodisiac. It made you both go crazy. Chan brought his hand up gripping at your throat grinning from ear to ear. “Fuck- I love you y/n. I’ve waited so long for this” he groaned.

“I love you too!” You cried out. His grip around your neck tightened as he felt your cunt clench around him. “Gonna cum? Cum on my cock- fuck- make a mess-“ he said before speeding up his thrusts. Your high quickly crushed over you cumming hard around him. He let out an almost growl before pulling out. He spun you around putting you on your hands and knees.

He moved himself in-front of you pressing the tip of his cock to your lips. Before he let you take him in he bit his wrist. Dripping blood down on his cock. You groaned watching him before taking his cock into your mouth. You twirled your tongue around his shaft licking him clean of the blood and your slick. His hands rested at your head before pushing back your throat. “Ah- fuck- just like that beautiful you’re taking me so well- isn’t she? You old bastards still watching?” He said with a chuckle.

He gripped your hair pulling you fully down his cock, his head pushing as far as it could go. He pulled away watching the string of saliva keeping you tied together.

He moved himself behind you once more and with out warning this time pushed fully into you. “Fuck- fuck-“ he said under his breath. His full balls smacking against you as he bottomed out. His cock head kissing your cervix ever so perfectly. He was fucking into like he hated you. Thrusts were deep and harsh. He gripped your head with one of his hands before pushing it down into the bed. “Gonna take all my cum? Gonna let me fill you full for all these fuckers to watch?” He growled.

“Yes! Chan- fuck please! Breed me- cum inside me please” you begged.

“That’s my beautiful wife” he said with a smirk. He moved from your head hands locked on your hips as his nails dug into your soft flesh.

He thrusted in a few more times before pushing in as far as possible. His hot cum painting your walls white as his nails dug into deeper making you bleed. He leaned his body down as his balls emptied into you biting your shoulder. His sharp teeth piercing your skin for the third time as he claimed you as his. Your high was quick to crash over you once more, the bite pushing you further making you squirt all over the silky sheets.

You both panted trying to catch your breathes. Chan pulled you to him holding you against his chest. “You all have 10 seconds to leave. You got what you wanted now let me have my time with my wife” he snarled.” The elders rushed out not wanting the wrath that they knew Chan would bring.

He held you as close as possible rubbing your back as he peppered it with kisses. “You know” he said softly. “I’ve always been afraid to let myself fall in love again” he said trailing off. “But- I can’t help it.. I love you.. I really mean it when I say that I love you y/n”

“I’ll never do what that awful woman did to you. You’re stuck with me now you know? Can’t get rid of me anymore” you teased.

He squeezed you tightly “I couldn’t imagine that, you’re stuck with me too” he said with a chuckle kissing your back softly. “Let’s go get cleaned up yeah? Then we can get some food” he said sweetly.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget

[danikamariewrites]

Hi I hope it’s ok if i request this you really don’t have to do it. But a Xaden riorson fluff and angst where the reader gets really hurt but they are trying to help people so she hides it from Xaden and when he finds out he’s really mad at her but he’s really just scared of losing her and hates seeing her hurt with a happy ending. I hope this is ok and there is no pressure to do this I completely understand if you don’t want to.

My Greatest Fear

Xaden Riorson x reader

Note: I haven’t written for Xaden in so long, I’ve missed him. I’m so ready for Onyx Storm and I kind of want to do something to celebrate. Should I do a countdown with fics for each FW boy for the week leading up to the books release? I hope you like this fic anon and thanks for requesting :)

Warnings: mentions of blood, injuries, and stitches

More than anything you want to sneak away from the crowded hall. To blend in with the shadows of Riorson House and limp away to your bedroom. Clutching your side you skillfully dodge riders, healers, and everyone in between.

“Y/n! Can you assist over here?” Violet calls to you, her arms full of bandages. You meet her pleading gaze, putting on a generous smile and nodding as you make your way over to her. The slash on your ribs can wait. Others with worse injuries need help.

Pulling the laces of your vest tighter with shaking hands you take the bandages from Violet to help distribute them. “Thank you,” Violet breathes out. She rushes off to take another box from Liam, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

A small sigh escapes your lips at the sight, making you wonder where your own boyfriend is. Xaden wasn’t among the injured, not that he would ever let himself be seen like that thanks to the Colonel’s words in the last Assembly meeting. But this wyvern attack has been the worst one yet. Healers are still bringing people in and you don’t want to thank the gods until you lay eyes on an unharmed Xaden.

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After an hour you were exhausted and light headed. The more you felt the cut on your side dripping blood the tighter you pulled your vest, hoping to keep your skin together. Slumping on the ground you rest for a moment.

Taking deep breathes you try to focus on the chaos around you, tuning out the pain.

Opening your eyes you see Liam staring down at you, a worried look on his face. “Hey,” he says softly. “Xaden is back and asking for you.” Your heart picks up at the mention of your boyfriend.

“Is he ok?” Liam smiles at you. “Of course he is. He’s Xaden.”

You chuckle, “Don’t let him hear you say that. It’ll go right to his head, it’s already big enough.”

Liam holds his hand out to help you. You brush him off, using the wall to help you stand. Liam eyes you as you take a shaky breath. Pulling yourself together you do your best not to limp toward Xaden. You can feel Liam’s gaze burning on the back of your head at your slow movements.

Whipping around — as slowly as possible — you scowl at him. “Stop it. Are you coming or not?” You snarl. Liam holds his hands up in surrender, hurrying his steps to catch up with you.

Stepping into the throne room you take another steadying breath, using the wall to help keep your balance. As leaders of the rebellion mingle, discussing the wyvern and Venin, your eyes immediately find Xaden. You let out a sigh of relief at the sight of him unharmed.

Before you can make your way to him Liam waves him over.

The first thing Xaden notices is how pale you look along with the dark spot growing on the side of your uniform. He wordlessly reaches for your ribs, watching for your reaction. Your hand flys out to grasp his wrist. Your grip weak. “Don’t,” you whisper harshly.

“What’s wrong?” You shake your head. You’re struggling to breathe now. Xaden looks to Liam for answers but all his brother can do is shrug, mirroring his worry.

Your other hand grips Xaden’s bicep as hard as you can. “I can’t…I need,” Xaden holds you closer to his body. His hand gently touching your side. You hiss at the contact and try to push Xaden away. “What do you need baby?”

You don’t know what happened after that. When you blacked out all you heard was Xaden yelling for help and your vest being ripped apart.

When you came to the dizzy feeling is still with you. You try to sit up but a large hand on your shoulder stops you. “Don’t even,” the worry clear in Xaden’s voice. You stare up at him with big eyes, remaining flat on the bed.

Xaden sits on the edge of the bed with a huff. He looked like he was struggling not to scold you. “Why?” Is all he asks.

You knew what he meant. Why walk around tending to the injured when you were bleeding out. Truthfully, you knew it was bad. The Venin you went hand to hand with fought nasty.

“Colonel Gerault yelled at me last time, saying leaders shouldn’t look weak even if we feel weak. You know how he gets about image. Violet needed help and so did our other riders. I needed to know they were ok before I asked for help.”

Xaden let out a deep sigh, annoyed with your selflessness. He rolled his neck while simultaneously clenching his jaw. The tension this man holds in his whole body is astounding. “That’s not true and you know it.”

The two of you sit in silence for a while as Xaden contemplates his next words.

He gently holds your hand, running his thumb across your knuckles. “Do you know what the biggest loss in this war would be to me?” You shrug as the possibilities run through your mind knowing Xaden can hear your thoughts.

With each passing thought his frown deepens. “Not this house, not my dragon, or my father’s legacy. It’s you, sweetheart. You would be the greatest loss for me. I can replace a house and all that other shit. But there is no replacing you.”

A tear escapes down your cheek. Squeezing Xaden’s hand you give him a sad smile. “I need you.” He whispers, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry.”

Xaden shakes his head. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, baby. I just need you to get better.” You hold out your pinky for him. Your sacred tradition when making sure one sticks to their word. “Promise.”

He wraps his pinky around yours before adding, “And, you will stay in bed until that wound is fully healed.” You open your mouth to protest but Xaden gives you a look, lifting your entwined fingers. Showing that you are bound to do as he wishes while you’re hurt.

“Fine.” You agree begrudgingly. “Thank you.” He drops your finger, pressing another kiss to your head, then your lips. You grab the back of his head to deepen the kiss. Xaden moans at the feeling of your tongue swiping against his bottom lip. After a few more minutes of passionately making out Xaden pulls away.

You whine at the lack of lip contact. “You need to rest. If we do what I want to do you’re going to need new stitches.” He smirks at you. “Guess I better get to healing.”

[xxblairexxss]

A fresh start (p.2)

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x singlemom!reader

Theme : Tiny bit of angst, fluff

Word count : 4.7k

Part 1

In which Charles had a crush on the new member of the team without knowing he was already a good friend of her toddler.

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"Charlie! Charlie! Charlie!"

Joris cackled as he heard the tiny voice come from outside the room. His phone was no longer interesting as he threw a couch pillow to his sleeping friend on the couch, making him grumble and turn his position to the side.

“Charles,” Joris called out.

The driver hummed, his eyes still shut.

"Your little friend is looking for you.” Joris tilted his head when a soft knock came from the door along with the tiny voice, the same one that had been calling his friend from the garage.

"Charlie? Is there anyone inside?"

"Come in, Adam.” To that, the door slowly creaked open as the little kid walked in. He was holding a cute-looking carnosaurus in his small hand and peeked inside to find the friend he was looking for asleep.

"Oh? Charlie’s sleeping!"

Joris stifled his laugh as Adam started tiptoeing inside the room with his pointy finger against his pouty lips. "It’s okay; just talk like you normally do. Charles could sleep through an earthquake. Why are you looking for him?"

He scrambled his way on the couch with full struggle without letting go of the toy in his hand before he finally replied to Joris’ question. "I want to show Charlie my new watch! Look! It has a dinosaur on it!"

"Mommy bought it?” Joris queried. 

"No. Daddy bought it! It’s my first gift from him!” He giggled and squirmed when Charles softly poked at his waist as he slowly got out of his drowsy, somnolent state. "Charlie’s awake!"

"Charles, I’m heading out for a while. See you, Adam. Make sure Charlie doesn’t fall asleep anymore. He has work to do.”

Adam waved to Joris as he made his way out as Charles sat up, yawning from his short nap.

"Bye bye, Joris! Charlie, look!" Adam nearly punched him in the face with his enthusiasm. That would have knock the sleepiness out of him right away. The driver then focused on the watch Adam has been excited to show to him. It was a kids watch in blue with a picture of a dinosaur.

"That’s so cool! Did you go out with your dad?” He grasped the tiny wrist and scanned through the details of the watch.

"We didn’t because daddy was busy, but he bought me a gift!” Adam cupped on his own cheeks and swayed his body left and right, remembering what it felt like to hang out with his dad forever.

"My watch is cool too. Look." It was Charles’ turn to show his as he extended his arm, a cocky smile was plastered on his face.

"Yours doesn’t have a dinosaur like mine!”

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"Hey." He sneaked closer behind your back and leaned down, whispering in your ear. Charles had been trying to find you all alone so he could spend some time with you, but you were either hooked by a group meeting or had to be accompanied by a few other colleagues.

"Hi! Are you looking for Adam? He’s back at the hotel early with my colleague." You closed the door as he followed behind.

"No, I’m looking for you. You are not ignoring me, are you? Because I haven’t seen you since Friday."

"No?" You laughed as you saw him nearly slipped down the stairs as you turned back. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Almost died there.”

You then stopped in your tracks so he could walk with your pace by your side. "I’m not ignoring you. There were a lot of things I needed to get done before next month. Congratulations on the points, by the way!” You turned your body, facing the driver, as your ponytail swayed along.

"Thank you. It could have been podium if I got to see your face before the race." He cackled as you pulled a face at his flirty attempts. "Oh, Adam told me his dad took him out. You told me they had never spent time together. Why all of a sudden?"

The grin on your face was washed off instantly as you pressed your lips into a thin line. This whole thing about your ex-husband was never ending. "I..forced him to. Adam heard kids his age talk about going out with their dads, and he asked me what it was like. His dad kept on telling me he didn’t have money to take Adam out, so I gave him the money only for him to keep most of it for himself."

"So he didn’t actually take Adam out? Give me that.” You handed him the files and laptop bag you had been holding as he took them, leaving you with free hands.

"No. I found out later on that Adam told me he was busy, so they hung out in his house eating takeout while he watched a football match.”

"Adam seemed to be fully satisfied with it, though." He remembered the brightest smile he saw soon as he opened his eyes from his afternoon nap yesterday.

"He just wanted to spend time with him. I don’t know, Charles. I feel like…" It felt so hard to come up with any words that could explain your feelings. You wanted to say you wished you hadn’t made a decision to marry him, but you couldn’t imagine your life without Adam. "I feel like I failed at giving him the life he deserved."

"Don’t say that. Just because he was an irresponsible parent doesn’t mean you fail at doing your part.” He saw you asked for your stuffs and was hesitant to give them because his actual plan was to ask you to go back with him.

"I don’t know. Sorry for ruining the mood. I better get going.” You took back your stuff and were heading towards your friend when he tugged on your wrist.

"Will you be at home this week?"

You turned around and looked at him in confusion. "Yeah. Why?" 

“I just wanted to drop by."

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"Mommy, Charlie is here”! Adam tugged his little arm from your grip while you were trying to fix his hair, and he scampered, a little wobbly with his unlace shoes to get the door.

"Adam!" You yelled out and heard his little voice apologise for leaving you as he struggled to unlock the door.

"I can't—Charlie, I can’t open the door! Oh, it’s open!” He stepped back as Charles peeped in, making the little one laughed. "Your head looks like it’s floating!"

"Hey, munchkin!" He bent down and cradled his little friend’s head as Adam hugged his legs.

"Mommy said I should get ready because you are picking me up. Where are we going, Charlie? Mommy won’t tell me.” He shook his foot as the shoelaces flailing around him made him giggle.

"It’s a secret. You’ll know when we get there.” Charles crouched down and tied the shoelaces before he ran back to you.

"Mommy’s really not coming?"

You shook your head and continued fixing his fluffy hair as he leaned against your chest. "No. It’s just you and Charlie. I’ll be at home."

"Is it okay to leave mommy alone?"

Your heart melted at his worried face as he leaned away from hugging you. "I’ll be all fine, honey. I’ll call Charlie right away if I need any help."

"No! Don’t call Charlie! Call me!" He patted his chest proudly at the suggestion.

"You don’t have any phones, sweetheart.” You laughed and patted his belly.

"I’m using the same phone number as Charlie. Right, Charlie?" Adam looked up and pulled Charles’ finger to get him to back him up.

"Oh, yes! Ring me, and Adam will be the one saying hi.” Charles beamed at the sight of the little one attacking you with kisses before he made his way.

"Let’s go, Charlie!” He held Charles’s pinky finger as both of them made their way to the door, with you following behind.

"Are you sure you don’t mind taking him out?” You voiced your worry, though it was the driver’s idea in the first place. "I don’t want you to feel obligated just because we like each other.”

"It’s a casual hangout day between friends, right, Adam? Don’t worry about it too much, Y/N. I was the one who wanted to take him out. He—"

"Charlie, let’s go! He yelled out.

You gave Charles’ arm a squeeze as Adam pulled him to step out of the house. "You should go now. He’s all handsome and excited."

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"Charlie! Look at that!” He pointed at the long-neck creature on the left, which made Charles arch his brows.

It turned out Adam’s knowledge of dinosaurs wasn’t just ‘dinosaurs’. He knew every single one ever since they stepped inside the dinosaur land whole Charles had to continuously read every board so he could figure out the names.

"What is his name?” Adam blinked and waited for an answer eagerly.

"Oh? The name? I’m not—I'm not sure about that, buddy. Give me a second.” Charles went in front of the board as he scanned through the paragraphs. "It’s cama—what even is this? Camarasaurus?"

"I thought it was Isisaurus! It looked really similar!” Adam stared at the big, life-sized dinosaur sculptures in amazement.

“Isi—whatever the name was, does it have a long neck like this one too?” Charles was pretty sure this was the 50th dinosaur’s name that had ever come out of that little mouth, yet not only he remembered nothing, he could barely repeat any of them.

"Yes! But it’s not as tall as Brachiosaurus!” He squealed and ran a little far, joining a few groups of kids as the sculptures made another round of noise.

"Yeah, my brain is definitely shutting down.” He mumbled and fished out his phone, joining the little one as he looked up at a different-looking sculpture. "Adam, I’m sending a picture to mommy. Smile!"

"Charlie, wait! Can I show my watch too?” He made a little hop and fixed his watch as he lifted his forearm up to the side of his cheeky face, which melted Charles’ heart from the cuteness.

"There you go! I’m sending this one to mommy, yeah?" He chose the most recent picture and clicked on the send button, as it was ticked as delivered right away.

"Tell mommy I miss her too!"

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"Adam said he misses you."

"Also, how is he so smart? He kept on throwing dinosaurs’ names left and right without even seeing the board. I have never felt so humiliated in my life."

"Everything is just dinosaurs to me. I don’t think they deserve a name."

You cackled at the texts you got. When Charles took Adam out, you decided to get your hair done as well as a fresh set of nails with your girlfriends. You hadn’t seen your friends for a while, and it was really fun to be able to catch up with them, updating on whatever happened in each other’s lives. You smiled fondly as your thumb traced the picture of your son on your phone screen, showing off his little watch.

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"Hi, mommy!" Charles handed the little one a paper bag full of new dinosaurs with different shapes and sizes of boxes that were equally big as his frame after you opened the door.

"Look! Charlie bought me new toys!"

You gasped as you peeked inside the bag. "That’s a lot! Charles—"

"It’s okay. He only asked for one, but I wanted him to get the others as well because they are actually pretty cool. Right, Adam? There was this one that flipped its tail, like,”

"Ankylosaurus! The tail can actually move, mommy!” Adam interrupted, and his eyes sparkled with merriment.

"Yeah, whatever that rus was.” Charles scratched the back of his neck as he shrugged. He had given up trying to remember the name because, looking back, they all sounded the same. He was pretty sure he could just throw random words and end it with saurus, and he would get a new dinosaur’s name. While he was too busy recalling the names, you leaned in and left a peck on his cheek, which made him freeze.

"Thank you." You brought your gaze down and locked eyes with Adam as he giggled.

"I think Charlie really likes you, mommy!"

"Okay, buddy. There’s no need to say my feelings out loud.” He laughed as the little one ran to his room. The paper bag swayed and hit his body. "I hope I make his day.”

"Are you kidding? That’s all he’s going to talk about for the rest of the week.” You laughed along, and hands went on his chest as he pulled you closer.

"What did you do today? Did you do something to your hair?"

You brought your hands up and hovered them over your eyes. "I got my hair trimmed and my nails done. What do you think?"

"It’s pretty. Is pretty the right word to compliment nails?” He queried, brows knitted. "It compliments your beautiful eyes so much. Oh, I’ll be going back to Monaco tomorrow. Are you sure you don’t want to tag along until the next race? It’ll only be what, 4 days?

"No, I’m going to my parents’ house tomorrow. They haven’t seen Adam for a while. I’ll see you in the paddock?"

"Call me, alright?” Charles brushed his lips on your forehead and bended down as Adam ran back to his embrace. "See you in my next race, Adam."

"Bye, Charlie! I’ll take care of mommy for you!" He cupped Charles’ cheeks with his little hands.

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"I got it!” You heard Adam’s voice beat on you as he rushed to open the door.

You put your folded clothes aside and left the bedroom while he struggled to pull the big door with the doorbell ringing continuously.

"Daddy!" He managed to eagerly greet the adult before his little body was pushed aside as your ex-husband stamped inside with a scowl on his face.

"Fuck off. Where’s that bitch?"

"What is wrong with you?!” You howled and tried to walk past him to get to your son, who was on the floor, sobbing as he clutched his wrist.

"Me? What’s wrong with me, you asked? Tell me why my son’s face is all over the internet hanging out with a random guy. Are you fucking insane? Weren’t you the one who fucking begged to have full custody over him, and then what? You woke up one day leaving my fucking son with your douchebag just so you could what? Get these done?” He yanked your hair harshly as you yelped from the pain. "You trying to use all these to flirt your way just so you fill up that hole with fresh sticks?"

"Daddy, stop! You are hurting, mommy!” Adam stood back on and used every force to hit on your ex-husband’s leg just so he would let go of you.

"This isn’t about you! Fuck off, worthless.” He swung back his free arm and landed his hand on the flushed cheeks as Adam fell down on his bump.

"Leave him alone! Hit me all you want. Don’t touch him! Please.." You tugged on his arm back as you went in front to kneel down on the floor and cradled Adam’s head in your arms. His small arms immediately clung to your shirt as he hid his face away from his dad.

"Next time I’m seeing him hanging out with someone else, you’ll be dead. I’m still alive and capable enough to be his father. I don’t need someone else to take over my fucking role.” He gave your head a hard shove before he left as Adam wailed and whimpered in your arms. He had never cried this terrible before. He was trembling, even, that you had to calm him down until he fell asleep.

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"Where are you going?” Andrea curved his brow as the driver left the meeting right as it ended, without even sparing a glance at anyone else.

"I’m going to see Adam. He should have come and met me hours ago, but I don’t think I have seen him at all. I’ll be right back.” He took his phone and paced to the room where the kid would usually hang out with his colouring books.

Charles softly knocked on the door and waited for a response, which didn’t come. He then twisted the knob and took a step inside, where he saw Adam with the dinosaurs he bought for him a few days ago, all scattered on the table. Though the setting was normal, it was actually unusual because the kid didn’t call his name and didn’t come dashing into him as he usually did. Charles also didn’t get any candy from him today.

"Hey, Adam! What are you doing?” He took a spot next to the little one as Adam handed him one of the toys, one with a fierce-looking face.

"Hi, Charlie.. You can take this one.” Adam’s voice trailed off as he rested his chin on his forearm, completely ignoring the driver.

"What’s the name of this one?” The driver twisted the head of the dinosaur so it would be facing left before placing it on the table.

"That’s Spinosaurus.." 

"Adam, what’s wrong?" Charles ruffled the toddler’s hair to get his attention, which was working as Adam whirled his head to look at Charles. "You are not wearing your watch! Where is it?"

"It’s in my bag.." Adam rubbed his eyes and turned around to look at his blue backpack that was placed on the couch.

"Go get it! Let me help you put it on.” He patted on the flushed cheeks as the kid scooted away from the table and he tottered to get his bag, the. took his spot back beside the driver with the backpack covering half of his face. Charles helped him to open the bag as the chubby little arm fished inside it to get the watch.

The driver’s eyes widen when he sees the state of the watch. The acrylic glass watch was cracked; a few bits of the glass at the corner were long gone, revealing little holes straight to the numbers and watch hands with a dinosaur picture. The watch wasn’t even working anymore. It was clearly dead, as it was still pointed at 12PM. “What happened to your watch, Adam?"

The little one didn't say anything, but he started wiping the back of his chubby hands against his cheeks as the tears started flowing down uncontrollably.

"Did you fall? What happened?"

"Daddy…" He struggled to form any words and started sobbing; his shoulders shook as he breathed in. Charles pulled the little arms away from the crimson face, tugging on it as Adam stood up so Charles could hold the trembling little frame in his arms. "Daddy.."

"Charles, you need to get ready.” Andrea peeked his head inside and closed the door back as he ran back to the garage.

"Adam—" Charles breathed out.

Adam pulled away and wiped his wet eyes with his forearms before the adult could continue his sentence. "Good luck, Charlie!” He managed to form a smile and make a little fist which was still a little shaky as he silently wept

"I’ll find you back in here after the practise round, alright?” He wiped off the stray tears and softly pinch on the cheeks, which made the little one giggle.

"Look!" He stumbled back to his little friends and arranged them all to face drivers, stopping time to time to wipe off the tears and clapped his hands as he was completely satisfied with the presentation. "They said good luck to you too!"

"I’ll definitely ace the practise round for you and your... um, rausus friends. Don’t cry, alright? See you, munchkin.”

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"Adam, we are going back, sweetheart.” You walked to him and kissed the crown of his head as you took his backpack.

"But," He stood up and filled his arms with the row of reptile toys as he tilted his head to look at you. "But Charlie asked me to wait for him, mommy."

"I thought you were hungry, love. We are going to eat.” You bent down so he could stuff his toys inside the backpack.

"It’s okay, I’m not hungry! I can wait for Charlie.” He gave a little thumbs up and chuckled when you laughed.

"Alright, then. We’ll wait for Charlie."

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"Charlie!" Adam squealed when Charles walked in, around half an hour after.

"Hi! Oh, you are all packed?” He ruffled Adam’s hair and smiled as his gaze landed on you on the couch.

"We are going to eat! Can Charlie join us, mommy?” His small hand was secured in Charles’ grip as he grinned cheekily at you.

"I can’t, Adam. I need to stay back a little while because I have things to do, but I’ll see you in a few hours. Is it okay?” He looked up to you, silently waiting for your approval, as he didn’t want to bother if you wanted to rest.

"Of course. I’m sure Adam doesn’t mind. Right, Adam?" The end of your mouth tilted as you looked at the little one while you took the lead, walking out of the room, followed by the boys.

"Yes! Oh! Charlie, were you fast?” Adam stopped walking as he waited for Charles’s answer.

"What do you mean? Ah, the practise round? Yeah! I got first place thanks to you." 

"And my friends!” He jumped out of excitement; the sound of the toys shaking against each other could be heard as the backpack moved.

"Yeah! And you too.” Charles winked at you, which made you roll your eyes with a beam.

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"Hey, pretty. Mind if I take Adam out?” Charles went straight away with his question the minute you opened the door to your hotel room.

"Right now?" You blinked.

"Yeah, just for a while. We’ll be back before dinner. Just text me what you want to eat.” Friday wasn’t as packed as other days. He normally would stay in his room to take enough rest before another practise and qualifying round tomorrow, but he spent hours trying to find the closest store on Google, and the nearest was just a few minutes away so it would be a waste to miss this chance because he knew he wouldn’t be free by tomorrow, moreover on the actual race day.

"Adam?" You called out, opening the door a little wider.

"Yes, mommy?" Adam came running, his voice a little shaky from his wobbly cheeks.

"Charlie is taking you out for a while. Is it okay for you?” Your hand went to the back of his head as he hugged your leg. You saw his face light up as he waved at Charles.

"Okay!" He agreed right away and grasped Charles’ hand. "But where are we going?"

"Somewhere. Let’s go before it’s closed!"

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Charles looked down as he heard Adam giggled. "Charlie, look at that! The puppy is so cute!” He giggled again, and his steps became more leisure as he waited for the fluff to walk past him. "The tail was like,” He shook his free hand vigorously to imitate the tail, which made Charles throw his head back and laugh and they continued walking.

"Oh! There’s flowers!" He pointed at the flower shop in front of him, seemingly to be very intriguing to the little one, as he stopped and tugged on the driver’s hand. "Can I buy one, Charlie?"

"But what? The flowers?" Charles looked at the flower shop in front of him and back at the kid.

"I want to buy one for mommy! Oh, wait..." He patted his small hand against the pocket of his pants and pursed his lips. "I don’t have any money..”

"Let’s go." He took the lead and went into the shop as Adam looked around, looking amazed at the selections.

"Hi! How may I help you?” The florist greeted them, bending down to greet the little one.

"I want to buy flowers for mommy! She likes yellow!” Adam replied, his gaze followed the florist as she took a single sunflower from her left.

"I think your mom will like this one!"

"Yes! Charlie, can I get this one?” He looked up and swayed his little hand that was in Charles’ grip. "Please?"

"Can I get it in a bouquet, please?” The driver’s request was being done right away as she went to get a bunch of the flowers to get them wrapped up in craft paper.

"Please make it pretty too!” Adam added.

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Charles and Adam walked into the store as the driver greeted the owner, while the little one looked around with the bouquet in his arm that he insisted on holding.

"Hi. I texted you earlier regarding the item?” He came up to the counter while the owner got himself busy as he went to get the item that was mentioned.

Adam stayed silent, his hand still holding Charles’ as he softly sang what he believed was a dinosaur song while playing with his foot. “I'm a dinosaur, dinosaur! Oh, I am a dinosaur..." Charles had to bit his lips to hold his chuckle so he wouldn't interrupt the little performance and tilted his head back as the owner walked back with a small, square box.

"Would you like to try it first?"

"Yeah." He retrieved the watch and bent down, cutting off Adam’s little song. "Adam, try this one."

He looked down at what Charles had in his hand and squealed. "It’s a dinosaur watch! It’s a dinosaur watch! Is it for me?"

"Yeah! Let’s put it on you.” He hopped in place, unable to contain his excitement, while Charles secured the green-coloured, brand new watch around his plump wrist. "Do you like it?"

"Yes! Yes! It looks like a stegosaurus!” He pointed at the frame, which sort of looked like the plates of the dinosaurs.

"That’s what I thought too. I just couldn’t remember the name of the dinosaur.” He stopped Adam’s little hand as he tried to take it off in order for him to put it back in the box. "It’s okay. Just keep on wearing it. You look handsome, munchkin.” He the continued with the bills as they walked out to the final place of the day to get some takeout for dinner.

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"Hi! Did you have fun? You moved your head away from getting hit in the face with the plastic that was wrapped around the flower bouquet that your little one was holding.

"Mommy, look! I bought this for you! Oh, Charlie did.” You took the flowers as he hugged your neck.

"Nah, he bought it himself. I should definitely step up my flirting game.” Charles walked inside after you and locked the door as Adam and you settled on the cosy couch.

"It’s so pretty, sweetheart! It’s mommy’s favourite colour too.” You hugged the bouquet in your arms and pecked at his little cheeks, as the green coloured thing that was secured on his wrist caught your attention. "Oh? What’s that?" You asked, taking his left arm closer to you.

"Oh! Charlie gave me this new watch! It’s so pretty, mommy! Look!" He seemed to remember about the watch now only when you pointed it out, so it was his turn to carry on the conversation. "It has dinosaurs at the back and here too! He pointed at the green dinosaur by the strap and squealed.

You looked at Charles as he stared at Adam lovingly, which made you smile, before focusing back on his little chat.

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"Is he asleep? He scooted a little to the side so you would get comfortable in his arms. He had left you to tuck Adam in while he played around with the remote control, switching from channels to channels as he waited for you to come back.

"Yeah." You rested your head on his chest after you made yourself comfortable on the couch, eyes staring at the television. You felt his hand on your back as he leaned his cheek against your hair. "I don’t think I could ever pay back everything you did to him."

"I’m not doing it just so I could get something back in return, love. Don’t be silly.” He then went silent for a while, wondering if this was the perfect time to bring up the topic. "Why didn’t you tell me what happened?"

You breathed in, knowing he would bring it up sooner or later after Adam told you he cried in front of the driver earlier. “It was a few days away from the weekend. I didn’t want you to worry about something else when your focus should be on your career." You looked up and saw him look in dismay at your words. "I’m sorry."

"There’s no need to argue about something that has happened.” His hand cupped on your cheek as he dipped his head to kiss your forehead. "I called my lawyer to ask him to get you a restraining order against him. Perhaps this way it will be easier for you instead of waiting for a response from the authority."

"But—"

"I’m not taking a no this time, Y/N. He told me he would need you to fill out a few forms as well as physical evidence; can you do that?” He gave your shoulder a squeeze as you sat up straight to look at him.

"Yeah… I do keep some evidence from his text messages and police report, but Charles, I don’t think I could afford to pay your lawyer.”

He frowned as he tilted your chin up. "Did I even say anything about money?  All I said was forms and evidence, Y/N."

"But you had done more than enough. I can’t—"

"Okay, then be my girlfriend.”

"What?" Your words were stuck in your throat as you looked at him in disbelief.

"That’s the only way I’ll accept a payment from you. Be my girlfriend when we get all these things settled."

"Silly." You scrunched your nose, hand went to pinch on his cheek as he laughed before pulling you to lay down with him and spend the rest of the night without having to worry about a dinosaur’s name.

“You know what, I kept on humming Adam’s dinosaur song. I think it’s stuck in my head. Do you happen to know the full song?”

“I can send you the video with lyrics?”

✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj @ietss @leclerc13 @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @xcinnamongirl @boiohboii @formula1mount @judespoision @alwaysclassyeagle @scenesofobx @mrsmaybank13 @vildetry06 @harriesgolden

✧.* tag list for p.2 @mrsmaybank13 @xjval @coffeewhore18 @ireallywannasleep127

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