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selfcarecap · 3 months ago

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MUSE [L.H.]

Logan Howlett x reader

summary: Logan would never admit it to anyone, but over the course of his long life he has attempted to draw maybe once or twice. He hasn’t done it in years, maybe even decades, but he’s struck by inspiration when he meets you. Of course, no one can know that Wolverine draws, so he does it in the dead of night, sliding anonymous envelopes with the finished drawings of you under your door. When he sees how much you love them, he wonders if you could also love the person behind them.

warnings: smut 18+ but with an actual plot for once (brief m masturbation, oral f and m rec, unprotected piv sex, kind of accidental (but consensual obv) facial; pet names: bub, baby, good girl, princess), soft!Logan but he won’t admit it, also soft!reader, fluff (although the summary makes it sounds a bit more dramatic than it is tbh), implication that reader has curly hair, implied mutant/X-men!reader, (obviously the pic doesn’t represent the envelopes Logan uses lol he’s not doing all that)

word count: 7.3k

also i feel the need to say something about the fact that it’s Hugh Jackman’s birthday today lol so uh thanks for being huge jacked man and for giving us our Logan yay <3 | gorgeous divider by @plutism

It’s everything Logan is the opposite of – he would never tell a soul – but over the course of his long life, Logan has attempted to draw maybe once or twice. It’s not really him, but he did have a phase or two.

When he meets you, he hasn’t even thought of picking up a pencil in years. Ever since you’ve been at the mansion though, Logan’s fingertips twitch with the urge to start sketching your features every time he’s with you. It gets hard to ignore after a few days.

He waits until he’s known you a few weeks, there’s no way in hell he’d ask if he could draw you. He’d probably embarrass you by asking, and embarrass himself by admitting he’s into fucking art. That’s not him.

Except, well, sometimes it is, when he’s inspired. And you’re nothing if not inspiring.

He gives in to the urge to get out pencil and paper again, waiting until everyone else has gone to sleep. The first few drawings are shit, he feels like they’re almost an insult to you. It’s not that he’s accidentally drawing you ugly, it just doesn’t look like you. So he practises.

Logan Howlett sits down at night to practise drawing.

He picks out a few other things to draw then, to ease the pressure that comes with drawing the woman he… is friends with. Yeah, you’re a friend. And he totally knows that you’d never go for someone as rugged as him, that’s for sure. You deserve much more. So much more.

But after a few nights he feels more confident in his drawing skills again, but still, as much as he can picture you in his mind – he can do that absolutely perfectly – he’s not too sure he could really draw you accurately.

So he gets Rogue to show him how goddamn fucking Instagram works so that he can look at some of your pictures and use them as a model.

He doesn’t know what you’re doing to him; you’ve got him using social media.

He can’t believe it, but the first time he seriously attempts to draw you, it’s perfect. It’s a small drawing, not even as big as his palm, capturing your gorgeous face. He thinks of adding another few lines to your eyebrows, or to your hair or another small one to the outline of your lips, but he doesn’t want to mess with it.

Logan hates how drawing makes him overthink, but he loves how it feels to create something other than violence with his hands for once – something that may even be the opposite.

He hides the drawing in between the pages of a book, and hides the book under a pile of random clutter on his desk that not even he would normally spare a glance at. But when he lies down to go to sleep, he gets all the stuff out again and gets out the drawing. He wants to see it again. And he can’t leave it there anyway, what if the pressure from all the items on top of it smudges it?

But he doesn’t know what else to do with it. He can’t really have a drawing of you sitting in his room. What if someone sees? Then what is he gonna do with it instead?

He finally lets himself think the thought that’s politely been waiting to be allowed into his brain from the moment he decided he might take up drawing again.

He could give it to you.

Logan knows his drawing isn’t objectively a masterpiece, but if he’s proud of it he has to acknowledge that that probably means it’s at least decent. And you’re definitely the type of person to appreciate something like this. It’s weird admitting to himself that he’s even proud of what he’s drawn; he’s done so much in this world, who cares about a little drawing?

The only thing is that Logan isn’t sure if he’s ready for anyone to see this side of him. To see the side that has him staying up until 3AM to finely trace the lines of someone’s eyelashes and cheekbones and lips, the side that makes him feel calm inside.

He knows it’s stupid to hide but he just can’t. He decides he’ll leave the drawing in your room in an envelope, maybe a pink one to show you it’s not a creepy threat but meant as a sign of adoration, from someone who couldn’t resist but try to recreate your beauty. He won’t write his name on it, he just wants you to have it.

Sappy motherfucker.

He puts the small drawing back into the book and carefully pushes it between his mattress and the bedframe to protect it during the night. God, who even is he – protecting a tiny piece of paper? He groans at himself as he turns around to go to sleep.

He dreams of making a thousand drawings of you, with you as his live model. His muse.

You’re his girlfriend in his dream, he thinks.

He’s sitting in a chair in your room, drawing you as you tell him about your day. You’re lying on your bed on your tummy, elbows propped up to support your head. You’re gently kicking your feet in the air behind you, wearing nothing but a t-shirt of Logan’s, some silly graphic socks, panties with little cherries on them, and a bright, bashful smile as Logan attempts to capture your glowing features in a sketch block he’s dedicated to drawings of you.

He wakes up with morning wood.

Logan is no stranger to jerking off with you on his mind, so he spits in his hand and slips it beneath his boxers, stroking himself as he thinks of you. He imagines you on top of him as he jerks his cock, imagines you under him, or with your legs around his head, or you between his knees on the floor. He cums quickly and hard, leaving his boxers wet and sticky.

He goes for a run after he’s dealt with it and picks up an envelope on his way. He’s doubting himself but he knows he has to just do it. He’d doubt himself even more if he pussied out – a grown man who can’t even slide an envelope under someone’s door.

So Logan mans up and, like an idiot, kisses the fucking drawing before he puts it into the envelope. He licks the edges of it to close it and writes your name in the most anonymous handwriting he can muster and adds a little heart.

It’s soo stupid.

He makes sure no one is anywhere near your bedroom, walks up to your door, and slides the envelope underneath. Except he didn’t check if you were in your room. As soon as the envelope disappears beneath your door, he hears a short creak from your bed and your soft footsteps.

He hears the small and adorable noise of curiosity you let out – a confused hm? – and then he quickly and quietly makes his way down the hallway. He hears your voice about ten seconds later, an intrigued hello? as you open the door, but you don’t investigate further, closing the door behind you.

Logan’s heart is beating so fast. He’s never doing this shit again.

He’s antsy all day, waiting for some type of reaction from you. Except you don’t know that the drawing is from him so he’s probably not even getting one, and he can’t conspicuously come to your room the same day you receive an anonymous drawing of yourself.

It’s also when the insecurity settles in. Maybe he should have added a few more lines or started the entire drawing anew. Who does he think he is pretending to be an artist?

He shakes those thoughts off as he starts training with the punching bag in the gym. It’s not something that he necessarily needs to train, but it gets rid of some of that pointless energy. This isn’t him, worried about some lines he drew on a piece of paper – a scrap of a paper, really. Who cares about something like that? Certainly not him.

He sleeps dreamlessly and wakes up the next day disappointed that he didn’t get to dream about being your boyfriend again. God, what are you doing to him? Making him think about being boyfriend and girlfriend. He’s pathetic. You’re a friend and nothing more, and that’s fine. You probably don’t like him like that and he can deal with that.

He’s not even thinking of the drawing anymore, truly, when he walks into the kitchen the next morning. It only comes to mind when he sees you, alone in the kitchen, leaning over the counter to scroll on your phone, your weird green coffee (“it’s Matcha, Logan”) next to you as you stir it mindlessly with a metal straw.

“Hi,” you look up with one of those sweet smiles of yours, but redirect your attention to your phone.

At least you don’t immediately say something like hey, you know that drawing you slid under my door? It was so ugly I threw it away. Since when do you even draw?

Not that he was worried you would or anything. He hasn’t been thinking about it. Obviously. Why would he? And he knows you would never expect that it’s him; that’s the only reason he did it. He never would have given you the drawing if he thought you could have even the slightest inkling that Logan would be someone who draws. But he still wants to know what you think of it.

“You want some toast too?” You ask, putting your phone down and turning to get some bread. He sits down at the other side of the kitchen counter and as his eyes flicker to your green drink (he still doesn’t get it), he sees it.

“Is that–” my drawing, he almost said, “What is that?” He pretends to be confused, drawing his eyebrows together, trying his best to look inquisitive, “No toast by the way, thanks.”

You have one of those clear phone cases, filled with a bunch of tiny pictures and stickers (and is that your credit card?). But wedged in front of all of those is Logan’s drawing.

“Did you draw it?” He asks.

You turn around, giggling, “No, I don’t draw. And anyway, I wouldn’t be drawing pictures of myself. I got it in an envelope under my door yesterday, photocopied it because I was scared it would bend in my phone case. I don’t know who drew it.”

“Secret admirer?”

Smiling, you say, “I don’t know. I won’t get my hopes up. But the person must definitely be fond of me to draw me like that.”

“Like what?” He asks, unsure if he’s about to be offended.

“I don’t know, just, so beautiful. I’m not saying I’m not pretty or anything, but this looks… I don’t look like that. I wish I did. I can’t believe someone actually sees me like that. It’s stupid but I….” You trail off and, conveniently, the toast is done at the same time and you move on to that.

But Logan won’t let you, “What’s stupid?”

You turn towards him with a shy smile, “I’m embarrassed.”

Logan stays silent. He can’t seem too pushy and draw attention to himself, but his silence makes you confess.

“I cried when I first saw it yesterday. It’s one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten. And it’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever received, for someone to perceive me in such an artistic way.”

Logan makes a noise of satisfaction and smiles, asking you to pass your phone so he can look at it more – pretending it’s his first time seeing it. If you think that way about it, maybe the three more lines he was going to add aren’t that important after all.

The problem is that it makes him want to draw more, his stupid heart melting at your reaction to something he made– no, created.

After a week, he figures he has to give in. Drawing another picture of you is on his mind twenty-four seven.

It doesn’t help that he still catches you staring at the copy of it in your phone case lovingly more than once a day and you’ve put the original drawing in a special little frame on your nightstand. He thinks he’s sappy for drawing it but he doesn’t think the same of you for enjoying the drawing.

This is for you. It’s not about him. He’s not an artist or anything like that, he’s just doing something kind for someone he cares about (which is honestly sappy enough but he tries to ignore that). He’s usually more of a silent carer but maybe that’s why he likes this. He’s not making it a grand gesture, not making it a thing that he’s the one drawing for you. It’s just for you to enjoy.

He’ll just make this second drawing and silently put it in your room, and he’s the last person you’ll suspect.

But of course now that he knows it means something to you, he can’t get anything right. He draws your hair too curly, then not curly enough. He draws your nose too big, then too small. Your eyes end up crooked. He can’t erase too much because it’ll look sloppy, so even the drawing he gets almost perfect, he ruins with a few final additions at the end.

It takes him an entire month for the next drawing, and it feels more like him that it’s been making him so angry that he couldn’t get it right at first. Maybe he had the wrong picture of artists. They’re always talking about pain, aren’t they, and that’s what he experiences too (over a drawing. Who is he?).

He takes another few days to keep track of your routine, to monitor when you’ll be in your room. He can’t have it be as close as last time.

He ends up doing it in the evening. There’s a time after dinner when most of the team stays together to watch tv, just talk, or play some games. It’s normal for some of you to wander off, come back or stick around a bit longer. It won’t be suspicious if he leaves for a few minutes and comes back.

Logan wants nothing more than to follow you when you say that you’re going to your room for the night; he wants to see your reaction. But he can’t. All he can do is go up to his own bedroom fifteen minutes later, lingering in the hallway longer than he needs to.

Just as he’s about to give up and go to sleep, you walk down the hallway, coming back from the bathroom.

“Logan!” you call all excitedly when you see him, and his heart skips a beat. Do you know the drawing is from him?

“Look,” you take his arm and pull him to your room, “I got another drawing!”

He breathes out in relief; you don’t know it’s from him. He smiles when you hold up the drawing, already framed.

“Were you expecting to get another drawing?” he teases.

“Noo, but the frames came in a pack of two. Isn’t it gorgeous?”

Logan looks at how your eyes sparkle, how proudly you’re showing him this drawing. All the work he put into it was definitely worth it. It’s another picture of your face, this time from a new angle, and with your hair styled differently, curls coiled another way from last time.

Logan clears his throat, remembering to keep up his act. “It looks good.”

“Good?” you take the frame from his hands defensively, “It’s beautiful.”

He chuckles, “Sorry, I don’t know much about this type of thing. It is beautiful though.” He’s looking at you instead of his drawing.

“It is. And you don’t have to know much about art or drawing to see how pretty this is. I still can’t believe someone would take the time to make these for me.”

Logan remains silent instead of saying what he wants to tell you. Of course he would take that time for you – and you don’t even know how much time it really took him. If there’s someone who’s worth it, it’s you.

Seeing your pleased smile at something he made for you, he decides he’s never going to stop drawing you.

He’s on a roll for some time. He’s better at drawing again now that he’s getting in practice, and he makes five drawings of you within the next weeks. Logan watches the collection of them on your nightstand grow fuller, along with your smile that somehow gets bigger every time you tell him about a new drawing.

It’s a wonder you haven’t caught on yet, but you don’t seem particularly interested in snooping around to find out who it is. You respect the person’s privacy, but you’ve confessed to him that you’d still love to know.

“I won’t try to find out who it is. I won’t push it if they don’t want me to know… but, I mean, anyone would want to know, wouldn’t they?”

You’ve adopted the nickname of ‘secret admirer’ for this mysterious ‘they’, after Logan used the term about ten times. You were reluctant at first, because the person isn’t calling themself a secret admirer – you’d just be putting words in their mouth. But after seeing how much more beautiful the drawings get each time, you’ve accepted and admitted that, okay, yes, the person must be an admirer.

Your secret admirer Logan is particularly proud of his latest drawing, excited to bring it up to your room tonight.

But this time he’s sloppy. He’s stayed for a few post-dinner card games with the team, and it’s risky, because you’ve been saying that it’s your last game for the last two rounds. But he also knows that you always say that, and never mean it.

Logan gets up to leave, and he hears Scott convincing you to play just one more round.

It’s stupid, really, risking it like that. Even if he’s gone from your room in time before you come upstairs, you could easily guess that it’s Logan. He’s the first one leaving the round tonight, so your first assumption could be that it was him.

Maybe subconsciously he wants to get caught. He’s seen how you light up at every drawing, and no matter how much you respect your admirer’s anonymity, of course you want to know who’s dedicating so much time and work to drawings of you. Of course it’s crossed your mind that the person isn’t just doing this because they’re a good friend. They’re drawing your face because they think it’s beyond beautiful.

Logan doesn’t really know why he hasn’t told you yet that he likes you. He’s good at flirting, and he’s attractive – he’s not blind. But with you it’s different, there’s a bigger risk, for the both of you. The older he gets, the harder it is to open up to yet another person. You’re friends, and you talk about personal things, but confessing that he’s in love with you is different.

Not to mention this stupid recurring dream he keeps having, in which you find out it’s Logan who’s been drawing you, and suddenly your opinion of the drawings changes. You don’t like him back like that, and suddenly the drawings feel creepy if you think about him staying up late drawing your face.

He rolls his eyes at himself and gets the thought out of his head, taking the small envelope out of the back pocket of his jeans, smoothing his hand over it. He looks around, making sure no one sees him.

Logan bends down to slide the envelope under your door as usual, but one of the corners of the paper catches against the wall, and he quickly opens it to check the drawing isn’t damaged. His heart is beating so fast, he feels stupid.

He can hear footsteps, still far away, but he can hear them. Logan messily licks the edges of the envelope to close it back up, but it’s not sticking. He can’t decide between shoving it under the door like this or leaving now and bringing it back the next day. He can feel his heart hammering against his ribcage now.

Then he hears it. He miscalculated how far the footsteps were.

“Logan?”

He turns around slowly, and it feels like the world has frozen.

You come closer, looking at him and then at the letter that he must’ve dropped. It hasn’t made it under your door yet.

He says something before you can, “I’m delivering for someone else.”

“Who?” you ask, bending down to pick up the envelope. If he wasn’t petrified, he’d enjoy the view of you bent over in front of him.

He breathes. He can’t have anyone taking credit for his work, for his art (you called it that recently, he would never). But his heart is beating so fast he doesn’t know what the fuck to do or say.

This is exactly why he never wanted to do any of this. He’s making a fool out of himself and that doesn’t usually happen, especially not over a piece of paper. Logan is confident, cocky even, he can admit that, and has no idea how to deal with things like being nervous; he never has to. This really isn’t him.

You don’t wait for an answer and look at the envelope. You open it so carefully, gently taking the drawing out with your fingertips. You’re treating it with so much care he immediately feels better. Again, this isn’t for him, it’s for you. (Well, it’s for him too but it’ll take him a while to admit that).

He’s drawn your smile this time. You were happy in most of the drawings before, but he focussed more on the eyes, and your lips only ever tugged up in a slight smile.

This one is a full-toothed grin, mid-laugh.

You two were drinking last weekend. He barely felt it but your tipsy, giggly mood was contagious. He couldn’t imagine himself feeling any other way but blissful when you’re happy around him.

It started when Logan made a casual comment about something silly Scott was wearing that night, and he had you giggling. He wanted to immediately hear that angelic sound again, of course, and so he gave you every joke about your shared friends he could think of – all light-hearted, but he was still glad you two were alone.

It was the stupidest joke of all that made you really laugh, some dumb comparison between Xavier and Caillou. You probably wouldn’t even giggle at it anymore now, but in the moment it was so funny you almost spat out your drink from the deep belly laugh he drew from you, holding onto his bicep so you wouldn’t fall over as tears formed in your eyes from how hard you were laughing. He wanted to engrave the image on his soul. At least he got your smile on paper.

You look up at him now, eyes filled with tears.

“You drew this?” you ask.

He nods softly. He can’t say it but he hopes the drawings convey how in love with you he is.

Suddenly, Logan feels like his heart has stopped beating.

You’re kissing him.

You’ve leaped up, wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, and now your lips are on his.

He feels your mouth falter, probably because he’s being a fucking idiot and not kissing you back. Logan places his hands on your waist to pull you further towards him. Then his brain finally catches up and he can do what he’s wanted to for so long.

He takes your chin with two fingers and angles you so you can kiss him easier. He closes his eyes and revels in the feeling of your soft, warm lips against him. You’re soft and warm all over. Your top has slipped up over his fingertips at your sides, and he slides his hands further around your back to support you against him even better.

Logan’s tongue pushes at your lower lip, and you let out the sexiest, tiny moan of surprise as you part your lips for him, granting him access.

His tongue touches the tip of yours and from then on your cravings intensify. You feel your way over his muscular shoulders, his big biceps and over the hard planes of his chest. When you’ve had a good feel there, your hands grip his shirt in desperation and Logan gets even hungrier for you. He gently bites at your lower lip, but then you shriek into his mouth and squirm out of his grasp. He opens his eyes wide.

You grip Logan’s forearm for support when you bend down in a panic, picking up the drawing you just dropped. You let out a big breath of relief when you see it hasn’t been damaged.

“You made me drop it!” You slap a hand to his chest; it doesn’t actually hurt and it’s not meant to, but it leaves a pleasant tingle behind instead.

“I didn’t do anything”, Logan laughs, and you shake your head at him with a smile.

You take him into your room where you make him sit on the bed while you stare at the new drawing in awe. “I didn’t know you draw”, you say without taking your eyes off it.

“No one else knows.”

You pretend to zip your lips, smiling, “It’s our secret.” Logan can tell that you like that. He likes it too. It feels much better to share a secret with you than to be keeping one from you.

“I’ll only draw for you anyway, so there’s no point in telling anyone else.”

“You’re really good. I love the drawings.”

Logan gives a satisfied hum at your words, “You inspired me. Can’t have you walking around all pretty and not expect me to try and recreate it.”

You straddle Logan and hover over his lap to hug him, “They’re the best thing anyone's ever given to me. Do I really look like that?” You say the last question more quietly, and Logan wraps his arms around your sides, careful not to bump your hand that’s still holding the drawing.

“You’re more gorgeous than anything I could ever capture, but I think it comes close. I didn’t change anything about you to make you more beautiful. I couldn’t if I tried. I just tried to draw you as accurately as possible, that’s why it’s so beautiful.”

“I really love it,” you say again, happily staring at the details of the drawing. Hearing you say the word love so much tempts Logan, but he doesn’t want to move too fast. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you. He does, however, want to kiss you again.

Logan carefully takes the framed drawing and puts it on your nightstand. You push your mouth against his before he can initiate the kiss, and he grins against your lips.

You don’t know how to put your feelings into words, so you’re kissing him instead. He pulls you down so that you’re not hovering over but sitting on his lap, and the mood immediately shifts to something different. Logan doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but if you’re ready then he’ll take anything he can get.

Your chest is pressed against Logan’s, and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest when he breathes. You may or may not be pressing your boobs against his body on purpose.

“God, baby, I’ve waited so long for this,” he says, already breathless, as his hands trail down your back, leaving goosebumps behind.

“You’ve waited long?” you raise your eyebrows, grinning, “I’ve wanted to fuck you since the day I met you.”

You see the look in Logan’s eyes changing as he bites his lip, “Who says I didn’t want the same?”

You giggle, “Why did it take us so long?”

Logan chuckles, readjusting you so that you’re even closer to him, “I was too busy to actually talk to you, just been starin’ at you so I could draw you.” His cheeks have the faintest red tint, and you kiss them, hugging him.

You whisper into his ear, “Then it was worth the wait. And anyway, it’s not talking that I’m interested in right now.”

He pulls you back to look into your eyes, then at your lips. “Where do you want me?” he asks. You giggle slightly helplessly; you weren’t entirely prepared to have a man like Logan at your mercy like this tonight.

“You can do whatever you want,” you say softly, kissing him.

Logan’s lips are hungry against yours, strings of spit falling between you two, but he pauses the kiss to lie you on your back. “Wanna eat you out,” he husks, “Been dying to know what you taste like forever, bub. Can I?” He reaches for the hem of your top, and you nod so that he can pull it off you, admiring what’s underneath.

“Sometimes I make myself cum imagining that I’m going down on you,” you confess somewhat shyly, but you figure he’s been so vulnerable for you that you can share a secret too.

Logan smirks, and pulls off his shirt, “Maybe we can make your dream come true then.”

You move to sit up, but he insists on eating you out first. You both take off all your clothes, staring at each other with huge smiles on your faces for a few moments. You’ve never seen Logan this happy.

“Look at you, baby. So pretty,” he leans down to kiss your lips, then down your neck, all the way to your legs. He spreads them, lying down between them as he all but drools at the sight of your wet pussy.

You get nervous all of a sudden. “It’s been a while,” you tell him. He looks up, taking your hand, enveloping it completely in his much bigger one.

“You sure about this? We can wait,” he gently kisses your knuckles, and a warmth spreads in your chest, slowing your heartbeat down a little.

“I’m sure,” you nod, and Logan comes up again to kiss you. The head of his hard cock catches against the space above your clit, and you both look down between your bodies. When Logan looks back up at you, his eyes are desperately begging you. You place your hand on his head, threading your fingers through his hair as he moves down your body.

“Such a pretty fucking pussy,” he mumbles into your thigh, kissing you there. You giggle, getting comfortable, your hand never leaving his hair.

Logan starts eating you out, his tongue gentle but determined against your clit.

“Taste so good, baby. Even better than I imagined.” You hum at Logan’s words, already feeling yourself come undone with his mouth on your wet pussy.

You sink further into the mattress when he starts sucking on your clit, licking into your pussy like a man starved every few moments, and your thighs squeeze around Logan’s head, and it’s even better than in his fantasies.

“Feels really good,” you tell him, pulling on his hair to stop yourself from moving too much, and Logan moans against your skin. Hearing your words motivates him even more, and he pushes two fingers into your wet pussy. He curls his fingers, rubbing up against that spot that makes you see stars.

Your back arches as you cum, Logan’s lips wrapped around your clit as your legs push harder against his head, and all he does is moan, revelling in the feeling.

Logan doesn’t stop licking your pussy until you’re tugging his head away by his hair, and he comes up for air with a grin on his face. You smile back, pulling him up to kiss him. You give yourself only a few seconds of recovery time before you make him sit down. You know you’d never have enough strength to actually make him get into a different position, but he lets you.

You push him onto his back, getting between his legs. You’re blinking up at him all prettily when you ask, “Can I suck your dick? Please?”

Logan huffs to himself because he can’t believe how hot you are, can’t believe that this is really finally happening. He tells you yes – he has no more words to describe how badly he wants this – and he watches you wrap your pretty lips around his cock.

It’s hard to grasp that it’s really you doing this right now – the woman he’s been into for so long. His cock is in your mouth and you look so gorgeous with spit running down from your lips, and all he can think of is all the dirty drawings he can now make of you, if you’ll let him.

He closes his eyes when you take him deeper, enveloping him with your warm, wet mouth. “Good girl,” he whispers absent-mindedly, too gone to say much more.

You’re not using your hands as you suck his cock, your spit trailing down on him, and you’re so eager. But it’s also late, and he sees you getting tired, eyes blinking slower as you pause to catch your breath every few moments. He also sees the determination in your eyes, and the absolute want, but he doesn’t want you to exhaust yourself.

You look so sexy all fucked out, strings of spit connecting your mouth to his cock as you pull away another time, giggling up at him shyly when you realise that he’s noticing you getting tired.

“Just need a second,” you wipe your mouth, out of breath, and it’s not that you’re not incredibly hot like this, but he still wants to fuck you tonight and he’s not sure that will happen if you keep going.

“C’mere, baby,” he says, reaching out his hand.

“Huh?” you ask, taking his hand nevertheless.

“Get back here, baby. I’m gonna fuck you now, alright? Don’t want you tiring yourself out.”

You let him lift you and put you on your back, but you pout, “Wanna taste you.”

Logan grins, “I’ll cum in your mouth, princess. Promise.”

You smile at his answer, satisfied, so you lie back down, pulling your legs up to your chest. His cock looks huge as he jerks himself off between your legs, rubbing the tip against your clit, making you squirm.

“Don’t know if I can take you,” you bite your lip. You’re not entirely sure if you mean it or not. You definitely want to try.

“We’ll make it fit, baby, we’ll make it fit,” Logan assures you, leaning down to press a kiss to your mouth, a mix of your wetness and his precum between your mouths. You feel his cock at your pussy, “You ready?”

“I’m ready,” you nod desperately, letting him push his cock into your pussy. He pauses after a few inches, but you wrap your legs around his waist more tightly, and he goes deeper.

“Y’okay, baby? You can take it, right?”

You nod, unable to form words with your pussy stretched like this, a combination of pleasure and pain between your legs – but it’s infinitely more pleasure.

“That’s right. You’re my good girl, hm?” He kisses along your neck as he bottoms out, and you both moan when he’s got his cock fully stuffed inside you for the first time. He pulls out slightly when you whine at the stretch, but you scratch down his back to get his attention.

“I can take it,” you tell him, and you watch the look in his eyes darken.

He begins to fuck you, the pain subsiding more with every thrust into your wet pussy. You can barely take him, but it feels good. With your slight tiredness, you feel like you’re floating on cloud nine.

You can’t believe that Logan – your super hot friend Logan who you’ve been fantasising about for so long – is fucking you. He not only feels the same way about you, but he’s been your secret admirer this entire time, taking hours and hours out of his day to make you smile. You’re the only one he wants.

And now he’s fucking you, fucking you well, and you feel so warm inside, not just from the sex but you feel warm in your heart, because of Logan’s care.

“You okay?” he asks, stroking a hand down your face when he notices you’re not entirely present. You nod happily, smiling up at him, and you can’t talk because you feel so good.

“Good, that’s good, bub, but let me know if it gets too much,” he says as he starts rubbing your clit, watches you nod while he’s fucking you so well, and he’s so big and so deep inside of you, “Squeezing me so tight, baby, feel so fucking good.”

You cum suddenly, letting the warm pleasure flow through your body as Logan keeps fucking you through it, rubbing your clit in just the right rhythm.

“That’s my girl, taking it so well,” he moans, breaths stuttering. You slump against the pillow after a few moments, with a soft smile on your face, and Logan pulls out.

“Gonna make me cum, baby,” he jerks his cock, and you sit up on your elbows immediately, looking him in the eyes with a smile as you stick out your tongue for him. He promised.

Logan moans when he cums, painting your face in his release, jerking himself off. He holds your head in place with his other hand, aiming for your mouth but you’re making no effort to catch his cum there.

“Such a pretty fucking face, princess, ’m cumming all over it,” he rasps, shooting more ropes of his cum all over your cheeks, jacking off onto your face.

You open your eyes when he’s done and breathing heavily, and you smile up at him. You open your mouth, taking the head of his cock between your lips to suck off the last drops of cum.

“Look at you, baby. Look so fucking pretty with my cum all over your gorgeous face.”

You hum, pulling your mouth off him and licking your lips, tasting his salty release. You brush a finger over your cheek, sucking it into your mouth to taste him more. Logan kisses you then, the flavour of himself mixing between your mouths.

He cleans you up gently, carefully wiping your face with a baby wipe and kissing every inch of your cheeks afterwards. You take his face to kiss him properly, and if you didn’t seem so tired Logan would be ready for round two immediately.

“Next time you could try to actually cum in my mouth,” you tease, making Logan grin.

“Sorry, baby. Got too excited. Couldn’t focus on asking you again if it was okay.” He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your lips.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, “I liked it.”

Logan grins, “Oh I could tell you liked it, baby.” You lightly slap his chest as you giggle, pulling him in for another kiss.

You cuddle for a while, not saying much because you don’t have to. You’ve both waited for this for so long that you’re just enjoying the moment, enjoying that it finally happened.

You slip out of his arms to sit on top of him. You’re in nothing but panties, the blanket bunching around your hips. You lean your hands against his chest as you tell him more about how much the drawings delighted you. And Logan cares, of course he cares to hear that, but he’s also just a man seeing the woman he’s into naked for the first time still.

You become quiet when you realise that he’s not listening, and you giggle, “Distracted?”

Logan grins, “Just a little fucking bit, baby.” His eyes don’t leave your body, and you laugh as you bend down to kiss him. He grabs your ass, kneading the flesh. When you slightly sit up again, your tits are near his face, and he can’t help himself. He cups your breasts, playing with your nipples, making you hum.

“I should draw these,” he looks up at you, “Should draw every perfect fucking inch of you.”

“You wanna?” You adjust how you’re seated in his lap, and you feel that he’s already half hard under you again.

“Maybe after I’ve fucked you again.”

You smile, feeling yourself growing wetter on top of him.

“Tomorrow,” he continues, and your smile drops.

“But you’ve got to get more familiar with the inspiration, right? If you’re going to draw me.”

“That’s true, baby. But I think you’re too tired.”

You smile bashfully, ignoring how your eyelids were drooping shut just a few seconds ago, “Okay, but then I’ll have more energy for tomorrow.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiles, pulling you off him to cuddle you again. He tucks you in and kisses your head.

You turn to your side, taking one of the framed drawings and looking at it for a while.

Logan watches you looking at it, and the sparkle in your eyes never fails to make him feel all warm inside. “Now that you actually know about it, I don’t have to draw you from memory anymore. I can study my muse in peace.”

“Aww, I’m your muse?” you beam.

“Of course you are, princess. You’re the only reason I’m drawing again.”

“I love your drawings so much.”

Logan clears his throat, and looks at you. “Well, I love you. So, I think that went into them.”

You look at him, pouting and then kissing him. “I love you too,” you say into his mouth. He grins against your lips, pulling you closer to kiss you some more. He can barely grasp that you just said that, but he’ll have enough time soon to comprehend how lucky he is.

For now, he takes your hand, and asks, “The question might be redundant now, but do you wanna be mine? Be my girlfriend?”

“I’m already yours.”

Logan grins, takes you in his arms, and you’re still cuddling when you’re both drifting off to a peaceful sleep.

P.S. reblog with a comment and let me know your favourite moment/what you liked to get a drawing from Logan under your door tonight and a facial <33

gorgeous divider by @pommecita

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine x you #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #deadpool and wolverine #fem!reader #selfcarecap

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luvxkdrama · 8 days ago

Text

— reflections

pairing : frontman x reader

warnings : mentions of blood, guns, manipulation, toxic love

word count : 2.6k

summary : "We're like a mirror, reflecting the same truth from opposite sides."

—

Y/N adjusted her pink jumpsuit and mask, her heart pounding against her ribcage. She hated everything about this place: the screams, the games, the stench of blood that clung to every surface. She hated being part of this macabre machine, but she didn’t have a choice. Or at least, that’s what she tried to justify herself with.

A year ago, when she first arrived and realised what was actually happening, she had vowed to find a way to end it all. Once she was back home, she worked silently, methodically not sharing her plans to anyone, besides one person.

Hwang Inho.

She met him after the first game as he was a pink guard as well and as much as y/n didn’t trust him at first due to his cold facade, he actually turned out to have the same ideas as her. He was different from the other pink guards y/n has met, he was quieter, observant. Unlike the others, who reveled in their power over the players or fell into obedient silence, he had a sharp wit that he wielded sparingly but effectively. He always seemed to sense when Y/N needed a quick distraction during tense moments.

And so, after they got out of the game, they worked side by side often, and she eventually found herself drawn to the rare moments when they spoke about things unrelated to the game. Cozy nights, wrapped in blankets and talking as if there was no tomorrow.

Y/N tried to stay focused on her mission and not let her mind wander anywhere else but with the time passing by, the moments spent together became significantly more important to her.

Things shifted when one particular night instead of going home, Inho suggested y/n to sleepover at his house as it was pouring rain and the roads were dangerously blurry. One thing led to another and eventually y/n found herself laying her head on his bare chest, feeling safer than ever.

“What are you planning to do once you take down the organisation?” He asked while gently running his fingers across her hair.

Y/N thought for a moment and smiled “I don’t know,” she finally answered “My main focus for now is succeeding this mission and the rest… we’ll see I guess.”

Inho chuckled and didn’t push further, understanding her answer. He then put his left hand on her cheek and slowly raised her head to plant a soft kiss on her lips, smiling into the kiss.

A year passed by quickly and it was time to return there again. Y/N felt ready, she knew what to do and when, especially after Inho somehow managed to find a sketch of the whole building where the games take place. Y/N did know that it was extremely odd to find such a thing out of blue, but knowing how helpful it was, she didn’t try to question it and simply let it slide, trusting him and being too immersed in succeeding her plan.

Before she knew, she was back, on her way to the first game, blending in as just another nameless guard in the sea of faceless pink uniforms.

Finally, the day came. It was the night after the third game when no one would expect anything as security was always on the highest alert after the first game.

Y/N was the one in motion while Inho was explaining the way she will have to make in order to get to the private lounge area. She managed to infiltrate the control room, her pulse pounding as she neutralized the guards stationed there. The room smelled of stale coffee and sweat, monitors flickering with live feeds of every horrifying corner of the facility.

She took a deep breath, her resolve hardening. She had made it this far—there was no turning back now.

After shutting down the security systems and eliminating anyone in her way, Y/N pushed through a heavy door into a private lounge area. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a massive screen casting shadows over the elegant furniture. Her breath hitched as her eyes landed on a figure sitting on a leather sofa, his back to her.

Her hand tightened around the gun she held. “Don’t move.”

The man didn’t flinch. He tilted his head slightly, as if amused. “You made it quicker than I expected.” His voice was low and computerized due to the black mask.

Y/N quickly grabbed her walkie talkie and told Inho she managed to make it to the private lounge. However, even after waiting for a few more seconds, she didn’t get a reply. She tried once again but to no avail. She started to get nervous as to why he wasn't responding.

Her grip on the gun wavered slightly and she cursed, deciding to take matters in her own hands for now “Turn around. Slowly.”

He raised the whiskey to his lips, taking a sip before setting the glass down on the table. Then, with deliberate slowness, he stood and turned to face her, the black mask looking right at her.

Y/N tried to reach out to Inho once again when suddenly the frontman took out something from his pocket. It was the walkie talkie y/n had given Inho. She froze, fearing the frontman somehow managed to capture Inho while she was busy fighting the soldiers.

"Where did you get this ?" She gulped, taking a few steps closer to him, pointing the gun right at his chest “If you hurt him I swear-”

A low chuckle echoed across the room, y/n looked at the frontman who shook his head before raising his hands to take off the mask.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat and her heart dropped.

It was him. Hwang Inho.

In an instant, it felt like all the walls around her started to suffocate her and that the room progressively got smaller. Her brain couldn’t process what she was seeing. The man she had spent so much time with, the one who made her feel understood and the one who showed her what love felt like, was standing in front of her in a black coat with the black mask in his hand—the unmistakable mask of the Front Man.

“You—” she started, her voice cracking.

“Yes,” he said simply, his voice colder now, void of the warmth she had grown accustomed to.

Y/N’s mind raced, piecing everything together. All the times he had been quiet, watching, listening. The way he seemed to know more than he let on. She felt like the ground had been ripped out from under her.

“Why?” she demanded, her voice trembling.

“Why what?” he asked, stepping closer. “Why did I let you get this far? Or why am I standing here instead of stopping you?”

“Don’t,” she said sharply, raising the gun higher. “Don’t come any closer.”

The frontman—no, Inho—stopped, his hands raised in mock surrender. “If I wanted to stop you, Y/N, you’d already be dead. You know that.”

Her finger hovered over the trigger, her entire body shaking. “You knew. This whole time, you knew what I was doing. You were even helping me.”

"Helping is a big word. I’d rather say I was agreeing with your ideas and eventually giving you some clues from time to time.”

Her breath hitched. “What was your goal?”

He shrugged, his gaze unreadable. “I wanted to see how far you’d go. And now, here we are. I never doubted you though, I knew we'd meet here as I saw the ambition and determination in your eyes.”

For a long moment, they stood in silence, the weight of the truth settling between them. She hated him. She hated the games, the cruelty, the manipulation.

“I trusted you,” she whispered, lowering the gun slightly.

He stepped closer, this time without resistance. “And maybe you still can.”

Y/N’s heart pounded as he stopped just inches away, “What are you talking about?”

“Finish what you started,” he said simply, his voice low. “Shut it all down.”

Y/N stood frozen, her pulse roaring in her ears as his words settled over her like a suffocating fog. Her whole purpose for being here—to dismantle the games, to destroy everything he had built—now felt like a fragile construct teetering on the edge of collapse. And yet, she couldn’t deny the pull of his words, the horrible, awful logic they carried.

“You’re insane, Inho.” she whispered finally, her voice raw.

Hwang Inho didn’t flinch, didn’t react to her insult. “Maybe,” he said softly. “But if I’m insane then what does that make you?” He asked suddenly “You’ve killed for your cause, Y/N. You killed dozens of guards to get here. And now, here you are—standing in front of me with a gun, and yet you can’t pull the trigger. Why?”

The silence between them stretched, thick and heavy, until Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. “You’re trying to twist this,” she spat, her voice rising. “Trying to manipulate me into thinking we’re the same so I won’t stop you.”

His gaze followed her, steady and unflinching. “I don’t need to manipulate you, Y/N. You’ve already proven my point. You killed those guards to get here. You knew the risks, and you accepted them. You’re not here because you’re better than me. You’re here because you’re willing to do whatever it takes—just like I am.”

"I don't kill those people, Y/N," he continued, referring to the players “I don't force them to come here, I give them a choice. Moreover, after each game they have the choice to stay or continue. They kill the other players to survive and get more money, not me. People are so greedy for money that it makes them blind. They loose the privilege of being called human, they reveal their true nature — monsters.”

She whirled on him, her chest heaving. “Not everyone comes here by choice, some just don't have any other way. So you're wrong Inho-”

He approached her slowly, towering over her now, his presence overwhelming in the small space. “Tell me Y/N, what do you think will happen if you kill me ?” he asked, his voice cold but not unkind. “The people who run this—the VIPs—they’ll just start again somewhere else. Somewhere you can’t reach them. Do you really think killing me will end this? I'm a just a puppet who accepted the harsh reality of this world, Y/N.”

Her throat tightened, the weight of his words pressing down on her. She wanted to scream that he was wrong, that there was a way to stop it all. But she didn’t have an answer.

“Exactly,” he whispered, as if reading her thoughts. “You think you can destroy this, but all you’ll do is burn yourself out trying. And in the meantime, people will keep dying.”

“So what?” she shot back, her voice trembling. “You’re saying I should join you? Help you keep this nightmare alive?”

He didn’t answer right away. Finally, his voice softened as he said, “I’m saying you need to decide what matters more—your principles, or your survival.”

She stared at him, her heart pounding. “I’d rather die than become like you.”

A faint smile flickered across his lips, “That’s what they all say.”

Before she could respond, the door behind her suddenly opened, and two guards stepped inside. Y/N’s stomach clenched, her body tensing and she immediately raised her gun at them, turning her back to Inho who didn’t even flinch.

"Don’t you get it Y/N ? We're like a mirror, reflecting the same truth from opposite sides." He gently put his hands on both of her arms, stepping behind her and looking at her side profile.

Y/N’s grip on the gun tightened, her breath catching. She shook her head sharply, the anger rising in her chest. “No,” she spat, her voice bitter. “You’re not me. You’re a killer. And I don’t care what you say—you’re not going to twist this into something else.”

His smile barely flickered. “Funny. I thought you would understand. The line between right and wrong is thin, Y/N. You kill for your cause, I kill for mine. But in the end, it’s the same thing, isn’t it?”

Y/N’s heart pounded in her ears, the room spinning for a second. It was true—too true. But she wouldn’t let him win. She couldn’t let herself be like him.

“No,” she repeated, her voice quieter but full of conviction. She took a step back, turning back to look at him, his hands brushing over her sides before leaving her body completely. The weight of the gun in her hand heavy.

This wasn’t what she signed up for, wasn’t what she had worked so hard for. But standing there, facing him, she realized just how dangerous his words were, how much of what he said hit too close to home.

Y/N stood in the doorway, gun still heavy in her hand, her heart beating erratically in her chest. She suddenly raised her gun and pointed it directly at his heart, her finger twitching over the trigger. She had made her choice—at least, that’s what she had thought. The mission. The goal. It all led to this moment. One pull and it would be over. But now, standing in front of him, the room filled with the echoes of her hesitation, the lines between right and wrong blurred in a way she couldn’t ignore anymore.

She had been ready to walk away, ready to follow through, to do what she believed was right. But something inside her faltered, her resolve cracking like ice under pressure. He had been right about one thing—their reflection was too similar. She had spent so much of her life believing that she was the opposite of him, but with every step closer she took toward him, it felt more like she was staring into a mirror she had spent so long trying to avoid.

He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers, his gaze steady but somehow understanding. “You don’t have to fight it anymore, Y/N. We’re the same. We both do what we believe is necessary. You can either leave, and I will make sure to get you home safely, or you can stay with me and accept the world is a cruel place that can’t be saved.”

Her chest tightened, and despite her efforts to resist, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. There was something in his presence—something that made her feel understood in a way no one else ever had. She hated that it was him, hated that it was this—but she couldn’t deny the pull, the connection, the understanding that went beyond their roles in this twisted game.

For a moment, everything seemed to pause. Her breath, his movements, the weight of the gun—everything hung in the balance.

She lowered the weapon, her hands shaking as she realized the truth. She couldn’t walk away from him—not completely. She had tried, had convinced herself that she was different, that she was better, but deep down, she knew they were too alike. Too broken. Too far gone.

“I don’t want to be like you,” she whispered, more to herself than him, but it didn’t matter anymore.

“You already are,” he replied softly, but there was no malice in his words—only something darker, something that felt like acceptance.

And in that moment, something shifted inside her. She couldn’t fight it anymore. She couldn’t deny it anymore. Her feelings for him, no matter how twisted or complicated, were real. And maybe—just maybe—there was no escaping this dark connection they shared.

She looked up at him. She wasn’t sure if it was love or something darker that pulled her closer, but when she stood in front of him, their eyes locking, she knew one thing for certain: she wasn’t walking away. She couldn't.

“Stay” he said, his voice barely a whisper, but it held an undeniable weight.

He slowly leaned in and his lips met hers. Y/N didn't move away. She couldn't. She felt interlocked to him in a way she never did with anyone. She left the salty taste of her own tears during the kiss, feeling her heart betraying her own mind.

For a long moment, they stood in silence, looking at each other, two sides of the same broken coin, too entwined to walk away from each other.

The world outside didn’t matter. The game didn’t matter. In that room, at that moment, it was just the two of them. Together. Alike.

#kdrama x reader #inho x reader #hwang inho #hwang inho x reader #frontman #frontman x reader #salesman x reader #squid game #squid game season 2 #inho

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ange1heavensent · 3 months ago

Text

An inch away from more than just friends

:｡.｡:+* ﾟ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:+* ﾟ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡.｡:+*ﾟ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:

Pairing: loser!ellie x loser!fem reader

Content Warning: making out, mentions of sex scene in film, fic loosely based on Naked in Manhattan by Chappell Roan

w/c ≈ 1200

:｡.｡:+* ﾟ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:+* ﾟ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡.｡:+*ﾟ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:

Jackson had a way of making the world feel still. Days came and went, each one blending into the next with the simplicity of routine. For you, that routine often involved ending your day at Ellie’s place, curled up together watching whatever strange or offbeat movie she’d dug up. Tonight, like so many nights before, you’d settled into that rhythm, expecting nothing more than the usual.

Ellie greeted you at the door, her hair messy from what you imagined had been a lazy day of reading or sketching. You stepped inside, shrugging off your jacket, trying to shake the feeling that something was a little different tonight.

“Everything alright with you?” Ellie muttered, hands in her pockets. Her voice was casual, but you noticed the tension beneath it, something unspoken in the way she barely met your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved her off, following her into the “bedroom” where she’d already set up the movie Mulholland Drive. You threw yourself onto the bed while Ellie stayed standing, fiddling with the remote. She seemed more on edge than usual, fidgeting with her sleeves, avoiding looking at you for too long. You tried to shake off the weirdness, focusing on the movie as the opening credits rolled. For the first half, things were mostly normal. Ellie made the occasional comment, and you both laughed at the more bizarre parts of the plot. But then… the scene happened. A sex scene hit the screen, and the air between you two shifted in an instant.

You felt it immediately, the awkwardness that spread like wildfire. Ellie stiffened beside you, eyes glued to the screen but not really watching. Your heart pounded as your mind raced, hyper-aware of how close your bodies were. The heat from her leg brushing against yours suddenly felt like too much, like it was burning through your jeans.

You weren’t exactly a stranger to sex scenes in movies, but this time it felt different, more intimate. Too intimate. You risked a glance at Ellie and saw the tension in her jaw, her hand gripping the bedsheets tightly. She wasn’t handling it any better than you were.

God, why did this feel so… charged?

You looked away quickly, trying to focus on literally anything else. But the room was filled with an uncomfortable silence. When the scene finally ended, it left an awkward tension that lingered long after. The rest of the movie passed in a blur. You weren’t paying attention anymore. All you could think about was Ellie, how her hand was so close to yours, how your heart was still racing even though the scene had long since ended.

When the credits rolled, Ellie jumped to her feet like she couldn’t handle sitting next to you any longer. “I, uh- I’ll get the couch ready for tonight,” she said quickly, moving toward the closet. You frowned. “The couch? You’re not coming to bed?” Ellie paused, looking over her shoulder, clearly flustered. “I just thought… maybe I’d sleep there instead.”

That didn’t sit right with you. Sleepovers had always been the same, you’d sleep together, limbs tangled in the small bed. The thought of sleeping apart felt wrong, but you didn’t argue. Not with things already feeling this weird. You crawled deeper into the bed while Ellie busied herself with blankets, but neither of you seemed able to sleep. The room was too quiet, too still, and you found yourself lying on your side, facing her direction.

After what felt like an eternity, you broke the silence.

“Ellie?” You heard her groan, and then she shifted, turning over to face you. Even in the darkness, you could sense her eyes on you, wide and uncertain. “What?” she asked, her voice strained. You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. This had been eating at you all night, maybe for longer than that. “What’s going on?” Ellie didn’t respond right away, and you could practically hear the gears turning in her head. Finally, after what felt like forever, she sighed.

“I don’t know,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. The answer didn’t surprise you. It didn’t make things easier either. You bit your lip, unsure of how to put into words what had been slowly building between you two for weeks, maybe months.

“You’ve been acting… weird tonight,” you said, feeling vulnerable. “Is it because of… the movie?” Ellie groaned again, this time louder, like she was frustrated. “No… yes… I don’t know!” She exhaled sharply. “That movie just… it got me thinking, okay?” Your pulse quickened. “Thinking about what?”

Silence filled the room again, thick with tension. Ellie seemed to be wrestling with something, and you held your breath, waiting for her to speak. When she did, her voice was soft and uncertain. “Us,” she whispered. “Are we… are we more than just friends?”

There it was. Out in the open. The question hung between you like a heavy weight. It was something you had never allowed yourself to think about, not really. But now, with Ellie lying there, so close yet so far, you couldn’t avoid it anymore. Your heart hammered in your chest as you sat up slightly, your voice shaking. “I don’t know. Maybe?”

Ellie shifted on the couch, and suddenly, she was standing. She climbed into the bed beside you, moving slowly like she wasn’t sure she was allowed to be there. Your breaths came out shallow as she lay down next to you, her face inches from yours, her expression unsure.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. You just stared at each other, and you swore you could hear both your hearts racing in the silence. Then, finally, Ellie leaned in, her lips brushing yours tentatively, like she wasn’t sure this was real.

The kiss was soft, hesitant, but it sent a rush of warmth flooding through your veins. You kissed her back, your hands instinctively finding their way to her hair, pulling her closer. The dam had finally broken, months of tension spilling out in that one kiss.

Ellie’s hands slid to your waist, and she pulled you against her, deepening the kiss. It was soft but intense, the kind of kiss that left you breathless and wanting more. You didn’t know how long it lasted, time seemed to blur as you lost yourself in the feel of her lips, her hands, her warmth.

When you finally pulled back for air, your foreheads pressed together, your breaths mingling in the quiet of the room. “This is… weird, right?” Ellie whispered, a nervous laugh escaping her. You smiled, your thumb brushing gently over her cheek. “Yeah,” you admitted, your own heart still racing. “But good weird.”

Ellie grinned, her hands still firmly on your waist, as though she was afraid to let go. “I don’t know what this is,” she said softly, “but… I like it.” You leaned in and kissed her again, the warmth of her smile still lingering on her lips. “Me too.” The rest of the night passed in a blur of soft kisses, whispered words, and gentle touches. Whatever you and Ellie had now, it was real, and for the first time, you didn’t feel the need to question it.

:｡.｡:+* ﾟ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:+* ﾟ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡.｡:+*ﾟ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:

Thank you for reading! If you liked this fic, check out my masterlist for more :)

#ellie williams #the last of us #ellie the last of us #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader #tlou #tlou2 #ellie tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x female reader #ellie willams x reader #tlou ellie #the last of us part 2 #ellie #ange1heavensent

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moraxine · 2 months ago

Text

Fragments of Us [Ekko]

pairing: ekko x reader

words: 2k

summary: ekko wakes up in an alternate universe where you’re alive and everything feels right—but it’s not his world. torn between love and duty, he must leave to save his reality.

ARCANE SPOILERS!

“Powder. Ugh, she’s so annoying sometimes. I told her that the graffiti on Sevika’s stupid bar wasn’t even that good—like, come on, who even uses pink for a skull?—and she just flipped out ! Called me a ‘wannabe artist.’ Like, okay?”

Ekko’s chest burns as he violently jolts awake, aware , coughing as if he’s been drowning moments before. His head is pounding, all memories flooding his mind and spinning round and round. It takes a few moments for his vision to stabilise and start clearing up.

What the hell happened?

“Hey, are you okay?”

Hearing your voice, familiar yet a voice he never thought his ears would detect ever again, he freezes. His eyes snap open, adjusting to the dim glow of the neon streetlamp. After a while of simply blinking, right hand on his forehead, he dares to turn your way, only to face you in utter shock.

There you are, right beside him, nervously fiddling with a small gadget in your hand while waiting for his answer.

Ekko’s breath gets caught in his throat.

His gaze desperately darts around, taking in the distorted version of Zaun. The buildings look eerily familiar but cleaner, more polished. And then there is you —alive, bright-eyed, rambling as if nothing in the world could ever go wrong.

This isn’t real. This can’t be real.

“You’re staring at me like I’ve got two heads or something. All good in there?” You ask, leaning closer as you gently tap his head.

No, no, no.

This must be some kind of twisted joke, a dream soon to turn into a nightmare, like the ones he experienced after your passing.

A strong wave of dizziness takes over and he loses balance. You’re not fast enough to catch him and he collapses on the floor, tears gleaming in his eyes.

“Shit, Ekko, I told you I’m fine walking home by myself! You need to focus on fixing that sleep schedule of yours. You work too much….”

You kneel down to check on him but as soon as you reach for his arm, he manages to pull himself up, wincing as his muscles protest. “I’m fine,” he mutters, his voice hoarse. “Just… where am I?”

Your brow furrows. “Zaun, duh. Did you hit your head?”

Zaun. But not his Zaun. This is different. Cleaner. Sharper. Brighter. Wrong.

You wave a hand in front of his face when he’s up on his feet again, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Seriously, you’re acting super weird.”

He shakes his head, trying to gather himself. “I’m… just tired.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you say, leaning back on your heels. “Well, you can sleep at my place if you want. It’s a bit of a mess, but it’s better than the middle of the street.”

“Why…Why are you helping me?”

I didn’t protect you. I let you die-

You scoff, crossing your arms. “You have to be kidding me, really.”

He stares at you, his chest tightening. You are so casual, so warm, so alive. This isn’t his world—it is someone else’s. Someone’s whom was able to keep you safe and happy.

You wave a hand in front of his face. “Helloooo? You good, or do I need to drag you there myself?”

He blinks, shaking himself out of his trance. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

“Finally,” you say grabbing his arm. “You’re lucky I’m such a good friend, y’know.”

As you lead him down the street, continuing your pointless rambling about Powder and some argument over graffiti, Ekko follows silently, his mind racing. He doesn’t belong here, but for the first time in years, being near you feels like he is home.

ii.

Ekko is standing in the corner of your cluttered workshop, his fingers trembling slightly as he tightens the final screws on a device he barely understands anymore. Weeks have been spent scavenging parts, tearing apart old tech, and sketching blueprints on scraps of paper. The machine is almost ready—his way out of this world is almost ready.

You, of course, don’t know. In fact, you seem to know nothing about Ekko lately. Ever since that incident outside the bar, he’s been acting strange in a way you can’t pinpoint.

“Hey, genius,” you call from across the room, pulling him out of his thoughts. You’re perched on a high stool, playing with a broken clock. “You’ve been staring at that thing for hours. What is it, anyway?”

He stiffens at your question, keeping his face carefully neutral. “Just… something to help me get around. It’s nothing.”

You narrow your eyes, unconvinced. “Since when do you get all secretive about your projects? You used to brag about your tech every chance you got.”

“Since now,” he mutters, avoiding your gaze.

It’s been this way for quite some time now—Ekko growing quieter, more distant, all while you try to bridge the gap with your usual chatter. You’ve noticed the way he avoids your eyes, the way he flinches whenever you stand too close. It’s not like him.

And it hurts.

“You’re acting weird, Ekko,” you admit, setting the clock down and leaning back on your hands. “Like, even weirder than usual. Did I do something?”

“No,” he says quickly, but his voice sounds strained, and the single word only makes you more assured that there is indeed something going on.

“Then what?” you press, leaning forward slightly. “You’ve been avoiding me for days. Is this about Powder? Because if so, she’s the one being difficult, not me.”

Ekko clenches his jaw, his hands tightening around the tool in his grip. He can’t tell you. You wouldn’t understand—not fully. How could he possibly explain that you’re not even supposed to be here? That this version of you isn’t his you? That in his world, you’re just a memory he carries like a scar?

“It’s nothing,” he says finally, his voice low. “Just… drop it, okay?”

You flinch at the coldness in his tone, but you force a laugh, trying to mask the sting. “Fine. Be mysterious, then. See if I care.”

Turning away, you pretend to focus on the clock again, but your heart isn’t in it. You want to push him, demand answers, but something in his expression stops you. There’s a pain in his eyes that you can’t quite place, and for the first time, you wonder if this is bigger than any conflict he might have had with people in the past.

Ekko exhales slowly, his shoulders sagging. He hates doing this—pushing you away. But if he lets you in, it’ll only make leaving harder.

Because he is leaving. As much as he wants to stay, to pretend this is his life, he knows it isn’t real. He doesn’t belong here. And the longer he stays, the harder it’ll be to say goodbye. Especially to you.

“Hey,” you say suddenly, breaking the silence. “For what it’s worth, you’re still my favorite nerd. Even if you’re being a jerk.”

He looks up at you, startled by the softness in your voice. For a moment, he wants to tell you everything—to explain why he can’t let himself get too close. To tell you he loves you. But that would be partially true as you’re not his. Instead, he just nods. “Thank you.”

You offer him a small yet warm smile and his resolve falters for a moment. But then his gaze falls on the machine again—his way out—and he reminds himself why he has to do this.

It’s almost done. Just a little longer.

iii.

Ekko stands in the middle of the workshop, his hand resting on the activation lever of the machine. The room hums faintly with power, the cobbled-together contraption sparking faintly as it waits for his final command. It’s ready. After days of work, this is it—it’s time to go back to the people who need him.

But his chest feels tight, and it’s not just from the lingering ache of exhaustion. It’s because of you.

The door creaks open, and his heart sinks. You’re standing there, your expression caught somewhere between confusion and anger. “What the hell is this?” you ask, stepping inside. “Ekko, what’s going on?”

He doesn’t look at you. He can’t. “It’s… nothing.”

“Nothing?” you snap, gesturing at the machine. “You’ve been shutting me out for God knows how long, and now I find you messing with… whatever this is you’ve made? Don’t lie to me, Ekko.”

He finally meets your eyes, and the raw emotion there almost makes him crumble. But he takes a deep breath and steadies himself. “I can’t explain it.”

You take a step closer, your frustration giving way to hurt. “Why? Why can’t you just tell me? I’m not mad—I just… I don’t understand why you’ve been acting like this.”

Ekko clenches his fists, his mind racing. He could tell you the truth—about the alternate universe, about the fact that you don’t even exist anymore in his world. But what good would it do?

“It’s better this way,” he replies quietly.

Your hands drop to your sides, and the look in your eyes nearly breaks him. “Better for who? For me? Or for you?”

“Y/n…” His voice cracks, but he quickly swallows it down. “I don’t belong here. I need to leave. That’s all I can say.”

You shake your head, your voice trembling. “You’re lying. You’ve been here all this fucking time, and now you’re just… leaving? Without a word?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Yes, you do!” you shout, stepping closer until you’re right in front of him. “Whatever this is, whoever you think you are—you’re my… friend, Ekko. You don’t just get to disappear without telling me why.”

His hands tremble as he reaches up to touch your shoulder, his gaze locked on yours. “You are—” His voice breaks, and he has to force himself to keep going. “You’re amazing. You’re… everything good about this place. You’re the reason I’m still alive. But I can’t stay.”

You stare at him, your heart pounding. His words feel final, and the weight of them crushes you completely. You fail to understand. Nothing makes sense, absolutely nothing. “Why?” you whisper, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. “Why can’t you stay? Is it something I did?”

“No!” he says, more forcefully than he means to. He takes your hands, holding them tightly. “It’s not you. It’s… me. It’s my world. I need to go back to where I came from.”

You can’t comprehend what he’s saying, but the desperation in his voice silences your questions. You nod, swallowing back the lump in your throat. “Fine,” you say, even though it’s anything but fine. “If you have to go… go.”

His hands linger on yours for a moment longer before he lets go. “I wish I could tell you how much you mean to me,” he says softly. “But I can’t. Not here.”

Tears spill over as you watch him turn back to the machine. “Will I ever see you again?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

He hesitates, his hand hovering over the lever. “I don’t know.”

That’s all he can give you.

With one last look at you, his expression filled with regret and longing, he pulls the lever. The machine sparks to life, and the air around him ripples with energy. You take a step back, shielding your eyes as the light grows blinding.

When the light fades, he’s there, his tired body slumped down on the ground. You immediately run to his side, kneeling down and pulling him to your lap. The room falls silent, the only sound the faint hum of the now blown up machine. You gently caress his cheek, tears running down your hot cheeks.

After a while, he wakes up.

And it doesn’t take you very long to realise.

You glance at the remains one last time.

And you hope that wherever he is, he’s doing what he set out to do—saving his people, his world, even if it meant leaving this one behind.

#arcane #arcane fanfic #arcane ekko #ekko x reader #ekko x you #ekko angst #ekko fanfiction #ekko x reader angst #ekko #ekko league of legends #ekko arcane #league of legends

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vivwritescrappythings · 7 months ago

Text

squeeze

tattoo artist!eddie munson x fem!afab!reader

Eddie is your tattoo artist and long term boyfriend, one night you have an idea of how to spice up your next tattoo session.

an: idk why I thought of this but I did

cw: fem and afab reader, needles, tattoos, unsanitary tattoo practices, don’t let anyone do this to you, p in v sex, cockwarming, masturbation, mild dubcon, mentions of marijuana use, i picture this version of eddie as older, masochism, swearing, dirty talk, not proofread.

wc: 2.3k

masterlist

MDNI

—

It was only after a few joints that you could have ever thought this was a marginally good idea. You and Eddie were well baked by the time you stumbled out of his van in the alley, eyes bloodshot and a wide smile on your face. The rest of the tattoo shop was dark as Eddie snuck you in the back door, the two of you giggling like vandals as though it wasn’t his shop. The keys jingled as he tucked them back into his pocket, nudging you toward his station.

He turned on the harsh fluorescent lamps surrounding the leather chair in the center of the small space. Paper screens separated it from the rest of the store, drawings and sketches stuck haphazardly all over the dividers and walls. “You’ve been drawing more,” you murmured, looking over the magnitude of new additions.

Eddie was already wiping down the chair and getting set up, looking over his shoulder at you with a hum of acknowledgment. You took in the way his shoulders filled out his worn Metallica shirt, his jacket hanging on a hook near the back door. There was something about his warm, chocolate-colored eyes that made your heart flutter every time he glanced at you.

“You gonna pick something out or just stare at me?” he asked, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You rolled your eyes, a little too stoned to come up with a response you considered to be clever enough. The wall of flash tattoos beckoned you closer. Eddie had given you countless tattoos at that point, insisting that dating a tattoo artist meant you had to get all your work done by him.

Anyone else would just be cheating.

It was how the two of you met five years ago: you came into the shop with a crumpled piece of paper with a book quote you loved scrawled onto it looking to get your very first tattoo. Eddie had stolen you from the guy who usually took the walk-in clients with a saccharine smile, ushering you to his little sectioned off area and charging you half what he normally would for a tattoo that size. You left with fresh ink and Eddie’s number, and the rest was history.

You squinted up at dozens of drawings crudely taped to the wall, admiring the smooth linework and the variety. There were a few from his Hellfire days, fleshed out Dungeons & Dragons monsters and sets of dice high up near the ceiling. The rest were the typical subjects: skulls and flowers and doodles of food and ghosts.

It was hard to decide, your arms folding over your chest as you worried your lower lip with your teeth. Normally it was a quick decision, you’d pick something off the wall or had an idea of your own and Eddie would be off to the races.

That time it took Eddie pulling out the battered notebook he insisted he did his best work in, his name scratched into the black cover. “How about this one? Been workin’ on it, thought it would look good on you,” he murmured, flipping it open to a page in the middle.

The drawing was beautiful, detailed and delicate while still fitting with the rest of your tattoos. You realized that Eddie was listening when you told him you wanted to tattoo your sternum a few months ago, the pages littered in drawings that were suited to the smooth patch of skin over the bone. As always, he knew what you wanted more than you did.

“Yeah, it’s perfect,” you finally said, tracing it with your fingertip.

“Yeah? You sure?” Eddie asked, already rifling through drawers to put together a stencil.

You nodded, biting your lower lip as you sat back on the leather chair. “Matches everything else you’ve put on me,” you said, making yourself comfortable as he went off to trace out a stencil.

You fidgeted with the well-worn Corroded Coffin shirt you were wearing, running your fingers over the torn-up hem and looking up at the ceiling tiles Eddie had painted black.

Meeting Eddie must have been the luckiest moment of your life. You never thought that you’d find someone, for some reason you’d been convinced that you were beyond what anyone wanted—destined to be the old lady with the cats at the end of the street. But Eddie wanted you, he wanted you fiercely and with a passion that was almost startling sometimes.

“Alright, dove, shirt off,” Eddie said, startling you out of your thoughts. He rounded the corner with the stencil in hand, chocolatey eyes focused on you.

You complied, slipping the shirt off your head and tossing the fabric onto a nearby folding chair. The cold air in the shop made you shiver with just your pajama shorts on. You’d forgone wearing a bra, the trip to the tattoo parlor borne from a spontaneous idea you had in the living room of your shared apartment.

“Never gonna get tired of that,” Eddie mumbled, staring at your chest as you settled back onto the cold leather. You rolled your eyes as your face started to heat up, part of you wanting to cover your chest with your hands.

Eddie stood between your legs, rolling over the silver tray that held the little containers of ink and gloves and his machine. He’d already washed his hands, his fingers were cold as he shaved off the smattering of vellus hairs covering your skin. You squeaked when he wiped down your skin with an alcohol pad. His tongue poked out when he concentrated, his brow furrowed as he started to apply the stencil.

He pressed firm to get it to transfer, pulling the strip of paper away and reaching for a mirror for you to see it. It was weird to see yourself reflected back in the small hand mirror. You sat up to properly inspect how it looked between your tits, the U-shaped stretch marks between them catching and shining in the fluorescent light. The mirror tilted up, letting you see your own bloodshot, hazy gaze in the mirror. The blunts Eddie had rolled earlier were strong.

“Looks great, Eds,” you said, lips quirking into a grin as you settled back on the chair. Eddie hummed, letting the mirror drop with a clatter on his drawing space as he went to wash his hands again.

He came back ready, black latex gloves pulled over his hands and hair tied back in a low bun at the nape of his neck.

Bony hips knocked the insides of your thighs apart, your boyfriend curling down over you. “You still feeling up to the rest of this?” he asked, a brow lifting until it disappeared under his frizzy bangs. You were silent for a minute, taking in the sincerity of his expression. “You don’t have to if you’re not feeling right, dove. I can just do the tattoo and we can go home.”

You furrowed your brow, shaking your head and blurting out protests a little too eagerly. It made him grin, boyish charm returning to his stubble-ridden face as though he wasn’t a day out of high school.

“If you feel uncomfortable, what do you say?” Eddie prompted softly, leaning forward to nudge his nose against your temple. He didn’t touch you with his hands, keeping them sterile.

“Yoo-hoo,” you mumbled a little sheepishly. Eddie picked it, the safe word always made you roll your eyes.

He hummed sweetly, pressing a kiss just above your eyebrow. “That’s right,” Eddie said, the simple praise already making you feel warm.

You bit your lower lip as you looked up at him, watching him get the machine going and getting ink on the needles. It felt like your body was buzzing with anticipation, your knees squeezing at his waist.

“Help me out, can’t get my hands dirty,” Eddie said, twisting to fuss with something on the tray next to him. You didn’t care about what he was grabbing, only reaching forward to loop your fingers in the waistband of the sweatpants he was wearing. On a normal day he wouldn’t be caught dead here in sweatpants.

The original idea had come from you. Something in your stoned mind combined to make you ask Eddie if he’d ever thought about cockwarming while giving a tattoo. He looked at you like you’d grown a second head, but fifteen minutes later he wanted to bring your fantasy to life.

“Been so fucking hard ever since you brought this up,” Eddie hissed through his teeth as you pulled his sweatpants down over his cock. It slapped up against his stomach, the tip flushed red and already leaking. You swallowed thickly, reaching out to wrap your hand around him.

The soft moan coming from Eddie’s pink lips was gratifying in more ways than you expected, satisfaction making you feel warm as you looked up at him through your lashes.

“You want me to take my shorts off?” you asked quietly, tilting your head to one side. There was a thrill associated with being naked in the tattoo shop. Of course, it was the middle of the night as no one would have reason to be there, but it still felt scandalous all the same.

“Yeah,” he said, the harsh buzzing of the tattoo machine starting as he touched the needle to the ink. The sound was familiar to you now, part of you associating it with Eddie. “It’ll be complicated to do this if you leave them on.”

You rolled your eyes, letting go of him to strip yourself of your shorts. He cursed under his breath when he saw you completely naked on the chair. Brown eyes traveled over every curve and slope of your body, taking it all in with reverence as his tongue poked out to run over his bottom lip.

There was a brief pause, the two of you waiting for the other to do something. Eddie ended up taking charge.

“Play with yourself for me,” he mumbled, staring down at your cunt. His gloved fingers twitched. “Get her nice and wet.”

Your face heated up at his request, bashfulness binding your chest together for a moment. It was impossible not to comply with Eddie’s request, your fingers finding their place between your legs. You touched yourself without fanfare, your fingertips settling on either side of your clit and rubbing in tight circles.

His gaze was locked on your cunt, chin pressed to his chest and lips parted. Normally you would be embarrassed under that kind of focus, but the awe shining in Eddie’s eyes made your anxiety slip away.

Your movements were practiced and smooth, sending electricity up and down your spine. It was easy to get turned on, your breaths eventually becoming pants and wetness building up around your fingers. His jaw was clenching, you knew he wanted to pull your fingers away and touch you himself.

He huffed, swallowing hard before directing his gaze to your eyes. “Alright, let’s do this,” he said, stepping in closer between your legs. “Before I just decide to ruin my sterile environment and fuck you the right way.”

The idea was enticing, making you bite your lip as you considered. But you already came all the way down here and had the stencil placed and ink in the tattoo gun. And you wanted to make your fantasies happen.

You grabbed Eddie’s cock, your wet fingers smearing down the length of it. Of all the times you fucked, you almost never were the one to guide him inside of you. It was a bit clumsy as you dragged his tip through the soaked seam of your cunt, nudging against the swollen bud of your clit a few times.

Finally you hit your mark, Eddie’s deep moan filling the air as he slotted himself inside of you with a strong thrust. The patch of dark, soft curls at his base brushed against your already sensitive clit. The stretch made you see stars. Your head rolled back against the leather chair, a breathy whine pulling from you as he rubbed against every gummy ridge and gooey spot inside of you.

“Eddie,” you whimpered, brows pulling together as you looked up at him. He seemed to be going through a similar sense of euphoria, his long lashes fluttering against his cheekbones as he breathed into the feeling.

His eyes open, pupils expanding like ink in water as he curled over you, readying the tattoo machine over your chest. He blinked hard, rutting softly against you once… twice… before steadying. The concentration was incredible to witness, his expression hardening and jaw flexing again.

“You ready, dove?” he asked, briefly glancing up at you before staring at the patch of stenciled skin like he could burn a tattoo into it with just his eyes.

“Yeah,” you breathed, feeling like your entire body was made up of TV static as you willed yourself to relax on the chair.

He nodded, the familiar buzz of the tattoo gun starting again. It pressed to your skin like fire, the vibration carrying from the gun all the way down into the flat bone of your sternum. You held your breath without meaning to, toes curling.

Eddie groaned, a smile finding its way onto his face. “You’re squeezing so fucking tight around me,” he said, voice a bit raspier than normal.

You made a conscious effort to relax, staring up at the ceiling and tapping the tips of your fingers along the sides of the chair. “Sorry,” you murmured, a giggle echoing from you as Eddie resumed the line he was tattooing.

Each stab of the needles kept your body alight, teetering you on the edge of pain and pleasure. “You're such a masochist.”

You smiled, your gaze hazy and your pussy fluttering a bit as you took shallow breaths. “I know, it’s gonna be a long night.”

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #reader insert #eddie munson x afab!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #tattoo artist!eddie

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formulamar · 3 months ago

Text

she’s a ferrari - part 4

charles leclerc x yn!ferrari reader

fc: Addison Rae

summary: as a child, the great-grand daughter of Enzo Ferrari used to spend her weekends hanging around the paddock. but once she went off to university her appearances became rare. what happens when she starts working for Ferrari? and... one of the drivers steals her heart.

READ PART THREE HERE

DECEMBER 2023

twitter

charlesleclerc16updates

liked by forzararri and 2,372 others

charlesleclerc16updates: CHARLES AND YN RECENTLY!

120 comments

f1fan0: i’m so glad they’re not letting that silly article come between them 🫶

-> scunteriafer: exactly!!!! that article is ridiculous charles would never do something like that

cl16fan: favs 🥹💞

lechairs: was the second pic taken in monaco??

-> charlesleclerc16fan: italy

-> charlnor: OHHHHHHH 🤔

ynferrari

liked by charles_leclerc, fernandoalonso and 112,921 others

ynferrari: galaaaaaa ❤️‍🔥 big thank you to everyone who helped me organize this big event! it was my honor to plan it! had so much fun, see you next year!

8,532 comments

ynscousin: forza familia ❤️

liked by ynferrari

carlossainz55: Gracias for a great party, Yn!

-> ynferrari: thank you for your energy!!! love you carlitos!!!

tifosi1722: UR SO BEAUTIFUL YN

ynferrarifan08: most gorgeous hostesses ever

user: ruining our sport and our team

iamrebeccad: had so much fun 💞

liked by ynferrari

user: so now she’s just getting involved with everything huh...

ynbff: we love planner yn

charles_leclerc: Until next time❤️

liked by ynferrari

-> tifosi1722: SO CONTRACT RESIGNED OR WHAT????

-> charlnor: so there WILL be a next time then???

comments on this post have been limited

twitter

JANUARY 2023

rumorhasitf1

liked by fernandofan97, charlesfan75 and 4,626 others

rumorhasitf1: 🚨 RUMOR CONFIRMED 🚨

The dream continues for Charles Leclerc in RED.

Leclerc and Ferrari have extended their contract.

430 comments

charlnor: living out his childhood dream 🥹

tifosi028: i’m so happy!!!! the team loves him

princecharles16: further proof he is il pridestinato ❤️❤️❤️❤️

f1fan5: LEGENDARY

charlesfan83: he's staying home :)

ferrarienthusiast38: GRANDEEEEEEE

f1fan33: i seriously can't imagine him anywhere else. life is good.

scuderiaferrari and ynferrari

liked by F1, susie_wolff and 350,892 others

ynferrari: I've had the rare privilege of witnessing the beautiful madness of motorsport right in front of my eyes. I grew up running around on track, moving car sketches from the dinner table, holding the car parts by my fingerprints. A plethora of memories that, sure I adored, but for the longest time was unable to acknowledge the significance of.

It may sound silly but it wasn't until I was a teenager that I began to realize not everyone got to be so close to their favorite sport. When I turned fifteen I got into the habit of walking around the grandstands before the race started and talking with other girls my age. These conversations taught me a lot. At nearly every race, I would hear a variation of "It's my dream to drive an F1 car." After a chorus of "Mine too!" there would be an awkward realization that dream was nearly impossible to accomplish. Women, weren't widely accepted in motorsport. Being a female fan was difficult enough already. Imagine trying to be a driver?

Then, I did start to imagine. Young girls from all around the world dying to experience the adrenaline. Just once. To feel the champagne coat them. Just once. Or even to be able to sit in an F1 car. Just once. A small moment that could change their lives forever.

When Susie reached out to me and shared her aspirations for creating an all-female racing series, I knew it would restore hope in the dreams of young girls all over the world. When she offered me an opportunity to help make this a reality I never considered saying anything but yes. I'm overjoyed to join Prema Racing, F1 Academy and Susie on this journey. I only dream of witnessing other women experience what I have so many times, running on track, peeking at the sketches and touching the car so gently because you're afraid of breaking it. And even more, I hope they cross the finish line with an indescribable feeling pulsing through their bodies. I hope they all hear their anthem on the top step. We can make this happen. Thank you to everyone on this project, thank you Susie, thank you @/f1 and THANK YOU FAMIGLIA FERRARI! (Ferrari family)

147,982 comments

susie_wolff: What a beautiful post, YN. Thank you for believing in the vision.

-> ynferrari: ❤

cl16fan: i'm actually sobbing. i love you so much. thank you for doing this.

-> ynferrari: thank you for supporting it :)

lec4: this is amazing, you're amazing!!!!

lando_norris: ❤

-> lando_norris: btw I'm glad you get to put that degree to use. It looked difficult.

-> ynferrari: oh if you only knew...

ferrarifan62: you described it perfectly.

charlnor: ok did not expect to ball my eyes out first thing in the morning but god this is beautiful.

charles_leclerc: Can't wait to see everything you accomplish ❤️

-> ynferrari: ti amo ❤️

-> lechairs: so after seeing this interaction I started crying again

-> cl16fan: literally me too

lordpercevalfan: i love you girl. you left me speechless. i'm so excited to watch!!!

fernando_alonso: Muy orgulloso ❤ (very proud)

liked by ynferrari

charles_leclerc’s story

⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩

formulaamar🎬: okay please don’t hate me… it’s been forever 😭😭😭 school and work have had me on a leash!!!!!! but here is the FINAL part of she’s a ferrari. i wasn’t originally planning on getting so emotional but i think it makes it special! i’ll try being more active :) REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!!!

taglist 🌷🏷️: @agmoon03 @janeh22 @kindestofkings @ttokkisbee @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @lottalove4evelyn@1800-love-me@blushmimi @emryb @majasophieanna@heavy-vettel @tvdtw4ever @harrysdimple05 @chelle1306

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mandy-asimp · 1 month ago

Text

Curiosity

sugar mommy lilia calderu x reader

warnings: cursing, some gay shit, smut, kissing mwah mwah mwah, age-gap (kinda unspecified, reader is like 26) uhhh that's it??

summary: your an inspiring actress who tends to have late rehearsals. and having no car, you had resorted to a the train. but then one night you meet a mysterious woman who captures your curiosity instantly.

Special thanks to @yourbasicqueerie for the car details and ideas🙏🙏

Your headphones rested on your head as you waited. You watched the snow fall against the tracks, it was supposed to get worse as the night went on. A white Thanksgiving was expected for New York. It honestly made you a little giddy as you hadn't experience good snow since you were seven.

Even as the thought of being alone for the holidays passed, you consider everything you could still do for yourself. Thanksgiving you could still cook, maybe have a Friendsgiving or open door thing in your complex building. Your neighbors always enjoyed when you had an open door dinner. But for Christmas, you knew everyone would be with family and their friends, leaving you to the comfort of your own home.

The sound of wheels screeching against metal drew you back to reality, your train was here. You had finished another show and could finally rest for a while before having to find something else to pay your bills. You had been searching through company after company, your manager helping the best she could to get you something solid and beneficial for both of you. All you've been coming across are small off-broadway shows and musicals, it wasn't much but it kept you content and cozy.

You flipped your phone over, seeing the screen light up and the time read 3:33 in the morning and you could only sigh as you boarded the train. You took in the few other people who had gotten on with you.

Two teenage boys sat giggling with each other and were finishing up some street food they had found. You assumed they were brothers with how well they got along. The sight warmed your heart. Then there was the woman with red hair. She had her hood up and nodding along to whatever song she must've been listening to. You caught a glimpse of her green eyes. She seemed young and alone. Then there was a tall man sitting way on the other side. His glasses rested neatly on top of his brief case.

The train had began and for at least fifteen minutes you had a smooth ride till the first stop. Not bothering to look up at whoever walked on. All you had known was they sat across from you, which you didn't think was entirely weird but there was an entire car open so why there?

You minded your business as the train began again. You occupied yourself for the ride by sketching and humming just slightly to yourself. And maybe you hadn't really been paying attention to what you were sketching, but as the train came to another stop you had an entire drawing of what you had taken in earlier. Your head tilted as you stared at it.

"It's a good sketch." The voice across from you had spoke, calling for your eyes to leave the paper. And by golly, did your heart leap off an airplane and go skydiving. The older woman was absolutely stunning. Her salt and pepper curls were pulled up yet the perfect amount framed her face. Drawing your attention to the big brown eyes that stared at you with interest and curiosity. Her outfit, you couldn't tell much of it as it was covered up by a black winter coat, but her bag screamed expensive and so did the few pieces of jewelry. "I never even saw you look up once to relook at anyone."

"I have a really good memory...I guess.." You were feeling shy under her gaze. It wasn't unlike you though, you naturally were a soft spoken, well-mannered young woman. You didn't like to be loud, which was surprising to many people you worked with when they had made a joke about you needing subtitles. But then again, that's what everyone else knew you as. There's always two sides.

The woman's silence made you think at first she didn't hear you, and you were ready to just smile and look back down to your papers and start on something new. "But to transfer that so easily onto a page isn't as easy. It's a talent..what you posses."

You couldn't help the smile and confused look you gave her, "posses? Like it's a superpower?" You lightly giggled. The woman had followed along, liking your humor.

"No..more like magic." Something in her eyes changed as they finally took you in. Your vintage racer jacket that covered a sweatshirt with a casual pair of jeans. Your feet covered in boots that looked to be worn to the bone as she just barely caught a glimpse of the gray baggy socks that covered the top. You must be wearing some big socks. "What are you doing this late on a train anyways?"

You hummed before answering, "I'm an actress. I just finished a show and now I'm heading home for the night. I'm hoping for something big next, really make my name."

She saw the twinkle as you spoke about your career. She so easily knew that you were following a dream. She admired that. "And what is your name, baby?" She leaned on her elegantly crossed legs, getting closer to your space.

You blushed and smiled with your eyes closed as you tucked into yourself a bit, having a physical reaction to her pet name. And you had muttered out your name, knowing she didn't hear it as she laughed. Was she laughing at you or with you? "You're a cute one, but I didn't catch that. What'd you say?" She asked again, leaving out the pet name since she truly did want to know your name.

You took a deep breath and giggled once more, finally getting her your name and she repeated it back to you. Softly like it was going to break if she said it any louder. It was said again in a way you've only experienced few times, low and dragged out. Almost moaned under her breath. It made your smile fall to a subtle grin and your blush deepen. You wanted to hear it again, and again, louder, shouted, begged, you had to shake your head of the thoughts and the woman seemed to know what had just occurred.

She stood from her spot as the train came to a halt, "get home safe, baby. You got star potential and it would be ashame if the world never got to see it." She winked before walking away. She had left you so stunned you never even got her name.

All you knew was she was going to plague your dreams for the next week and torture your mind during your searching you had to do. You had named her the train mommy in your diary, which she began to appear more and more as the days drew on. You hadn't stopped thinking of her. You couldn't. But alas, you chalked your dreams up to just that, dreams. You'd probably never see such a woman again anyways.

Right?

obviously wrong.

You had hit December now. The worst one in years, and you were cutting it close with this one. A musical that was supposed to show the weekend right before the big holiday. A rehearsal had gone late, you had really been working on harmonies for a song. You just couldn't help to feed the directors need to run it till it was perfect. The breaks in-between being subtle talking sessions on how to get there tonight before adding in the choreograph.

Back at the train station, you held yourself tight as the snow came down faster tonight. You were praying to make it before they shut down the train due to weather and leave you stranded. Your foot tapped as you stood behind the yellow line waiting for the thing to just finally arrive.

You glanced around the platform. Almost nobody was there, the only other people was a couple. One was with long brown waves that were kept down by purple ear muffs and a matching scarf wrapped around her. Her black coat zipped up as her hands were stuffed in her pockets. she swayed with the other as they laughed with each other. The sound just barely reached your ears. The other was wearing a green beanie and had the hood of her coat pulled over. Her eyes fixed to the other and laughing along with her. Her breath showing in the air as she, you assumed, had sighed at the others shenanigans but leaned in for a kiss anyways.

You pried your eyes away from the romantic moment and began a pointless search on every app of your phone. Only looking back up when the train had stopped infant of you. And you knew then, once settled in your seat, you weren't making it home. It was just you in the car.

You took a deep breath and leaned back as the doors closed. Playing music from your phone as you bobbed your head along with it. Just you in your own train car with your own thoughts. You had shut your eyes as you relaxed.

The next time they had opened was to the car attendant looking at you with an apologetic look. "Our train has been ordered to stop service as the snow picks up, it's getting bad out there."

You gave a soft nod and sat up and blinking away the last of the sleep. You didn't mean to fall asleep, but you knew you weren't even making it home, it was just a matter of how close you could get. You reached for your bag and began to get yourself situated.

"Enjoy your nap, sleeping beauty?" That voice. You couldn't contain the smile as you snapped your head up. Pink dusting your cheeks as you gave her a nod and kept silent. "Do you have anywhere to stay for the night? That storm has canceled every flight, train, and bus out of here." You frowned and shook your head, realizing the situation you were in now. "You're a quiet one tonight, baby. Are you okay?" She stood in front of you now, invading your space and holding your face from being able to tuck itself away. But as you stared up at her with all this adoration, her stare back was of pure concern.

"I'm resting my voice. We overworked them today in rehearsal and our show is the weekend right before Christmas." You quietly explained, sending her a reassuring smile up. To that she gave a knowing nod and smiled again.

"Well then I guess you won't have the voice to argue me, you'll come with me. I'll make sure you're all nice and warm tonight." She reached for your hand, grabbing it and pulling you along with her.

From the train station, all the way back to a parking garage. Her hand never left yours, you had figured it was so she didn't loose you in the snow. She brought you to an older looking car. It was a Porsche, you figured that out by the logo, but that and that it was old was all you knew. It must've been expensive. You thought it fit her well, maybe you could ask her about it more in the morning. You slowed as you watched her walk closer and come into view with it for you. Yet, she didn't make it to the car as you tugged her back.

You realized then you were taller than her and even as she looked up at you, it felt demanding. You had her close to your own body, whispering "your name?"

When she said it, your ears warmed even just at how beautiful it was. You mouthed it back with a delicate smile and gave her a slight nod, telling her to continue on.

You didn't understand how this woman had made you trust her so easily. If anyone else tried to drag you to their vintage car, you would've fought back and found the closest hotel to stay in. But instead, you were accepting her offer without even thinking twice. I mean...if it came to it, you would stand a chance...or at least you want to assume you would be able to.

She drove so carefully through the snow, seeing as it was almost impossible to see five feet ahead of you. It seemed like her driving was memory though as she turned through the roads and managed out the city and to a neighborhood on the outskirts. The house she pulled into was large, something you'd never be able to afford obviously. She let the cold in as she rolled down the window to put in the code for her gate.

The outside however wasn't as exciting as the inside. It was decorated so precisely, but what you really noticed was the different crystals scattered around the areas you could see. Another thing was a tarot deck in almost every room. You grew curious and tapped her hand with your laced fingers. When she looked, you pointed at the deck that sat perfectly in the middle of the coffee table.

"Everyone's got their own thing. I have a collection of decks, all hand painted over time. They hold more power and connection...I like to believe." Lilia shortly explained. She enjoyed the curiosity in your silent words, even nonverbal you could translate such emotions. She'd love to get to know all your emotions and how well you could tell them, but as you yawned, she remembered the time and situation. "Let's get you settled in, huh?" You sleepily agreed with her, following her once again upstairs.

Waking up you were surrounded by comfort. Your body could actually stretch out even more than in your own. There was no one else in the room with you in the grand bedroom as you sat up and rubbed away the remaining sleep in your eyes. Finally being able to glance at the clock and seeing it was almost twelve, and you were thankful for having a rest day from the director.

You sighed and went back to observing the room. A door to a closet sat in the furthest corner, you wondered how big it was inside. A dresser in front of the bed with a reasonably sized tv that was still off and only showing you your own distorted reflection. A few more pieces of furniture were scattered about, but the room was clean and tidied. Giving you only so much about the woman who brought you here.

Where was she anyways?

Finally tossing the cover over, you slipped out the bed. Being in nothing but a baggy t-shirt and your socks still. Maybe you had changed and were just too tired to even remember the detail...but you would've been able to recall just the tiny action of it.

Your feet carried you down the wooden steps as you kept pondering how you had changed. Too lost in thought to even notice the few prying eyes from the front room as you went the other way to find the kitchen. "Lilia?" You softly called out, knowing that it probably did nothing with how quiet it came out. You were growing desperate for some tea.

A hand fell to your lower back as the woman had appeared. "Well look who isn't dead in my bed," she was to quick to tease you and watch you blush. "Can I get you anything to eat or drink, hun?"

You spelt tea on her arm and followed her like a lost puppy into the kitchen. Smiling as the room's personality shouted at you as you sat at the round dining table. Your eyes were so eager to take in anything that you could to learn about the woman. The kitchen was cozy and cluttered a bit, but you could tell some good ass meals got cooked in here on several occasions. There were even still crystals littering about the place, which you deemed a house trait.

"How did you sleep?" She had turned from the kettle, bringing you over a steaming cup of water and a few flowers on top. "Chamomile for your throat, wouldn't want to ruin that pretty voice. I have to go finish up a meeting, but you just stay here and then we can talk more ok?" She cupped your cheek, brushing her thumb over the warm apple of your cheeks. You smiled and nodded, letting her get back to it as you sat and drank the tea and kept taking in the decorations.

Unfortunately though, the distant voices shouted for your attention and you couldn't stop the growing curiosity as you snuck to hide behind a little corner. You had just caught the end of Lilia's sigh, "who knows how the New Years party is to go. With how this weather is, I don't know if it's honest such a good idea. I can't let everyone sleepover." She joked, and it brought a smile to your lips at the idea of the woman's house being filled with people sleeping everywhere.

"But you've never let the weather stop you before? Either people will show or they'll deem the weather too bad. A little snow hasn't hurt anyone!" The woman's voice was beyond cheerful. "I think, you should send out the invites anyways and just play by ear."

There were murmurs of agreement, only then did you pick out the two other voices. There were three woman sitting with Lilia. One's laugh stood out to you a bit more, "you could bring your little play thing even. Dress her up as a little server for the night."

Lilia scoffed, "the trains stopped running and she needed somewhere to stay. It was three in the morning and I just happened to have been there. Once the trains are back up, I bet she'll be off to her own life." Her tone was dismissive as her words. "Poor thing would've been freezing outside if it wasn't for me."

"Alright, whatever you claim Calderu. We're on our way out then. Send out the invites for the fun of it. You never know what the weather will do." Another began to make their exit.

You muted the conversation as you sat and thought over the woman's words. Her play thing? You obviously knew what they really were implying and it made you blush profusely at the idea of it. It was absurd, for sure....you had to shake away the opposing and very distracting thoughts.

The sound of her laugh bringing you to quickly come through, staring up at the woman with wide eyes. Even when caught eavesdropping, you still gawked with curiosity. "Listening to my conversations, baby?" She offered you a hand up, which you accept and rose to your knees first.

As your eyes turned to make sure you set the mug down on a stable surface, you missed Lilia's shift as she smirked at the position she had you in. It went right back to her caring smile though when you looked back to her, standing the rest of the way. You had concluded with being two inches taller than her, not much, but there was a clear difference.

"I was curious," you didn't try to lie about it as you grabbed your mug again. You enjoyed how the warm ceramic felt against your palms. "You're hosting a party?"

She squinted her eyes at you before leading the way into the living room. She sat on one side and you sat facing her. Your legs pulled up to your chest, waiting for the story. "Usually I do, it's a big company party. I rent out some big space and everyone gets all dressed up and celebrates the new year."

"But?" You pried for more information. This woman sounded like she lived a life of luxury and you wanted to know as much as you could.

"But with the weather I don't know how well it'll work out. They're saying it's supposed to be calm for a few more days and then right before new years it'll all come down at once." She repeated the forecast for you.

You bit at the inside of your cheek, clearly thinking of what to say to convince her. "Well, if I was invited to some big company gala..I'd find a hotel nearby as standby. Assuming I have the funds for that. What are they like?"

Lilia let the many gala's fill her head. "Each one the same, you mingle with people you've seen around, and then the ones you've worked with. A few other partner companies show up. It's dancing and drinking all night, but they all end the same. Getting in a taxi and going home to the quietness of your own home." She described it, knowing you could paint the picture yourself. "Last year we had it at the museum, met many new people. But by midnight I was ready for bed and reading a chapter from a book."

You sighed dreamily, "I don't think I would ever get tired of that then....What is it-"

"That's not important, but you say that now till you've been doing them for years. And you look no older than eighteen." She jabbed at you, watching as you pouted. "Oh, I'm sorry, nineteen."

You made an offended face, "I'll have you know I'm almost twenty-six." You corrected, taking a big sip of your tea. "I am far from the teens." You sassed slightly. "Maybe not as far as you," you teased quietly.

She caught it however, and honestly you should've known she would've. Her mouth agape, "how dare you!" It was dramatic and adorable to you. The amount of control she had of her features to play into her emotion amazed you. No...it captured you and held your curiosity hostage, refusing to let you go for just one moment in her presence. Even as she pulled her head backwards and the expanse of her neck was on full display for you. You wondered what it would look like covered in your kisses.

Your heart began to beat faster at the images.

Lilia was staring at you and she was speaking. She was speaking and you watched her lips move with each word and yet you couldn't hear any of it. You frowned as her brows furrowed and her eyes filled with a faux concern. "Oh baby...that look in your eyes....you can't help your curiosity can you?" Her words finally got through to you.

"It's a curse..." You sounded dazed out just as much as you looked it. But once the moment fell to silence you began to see through to reality. It was brief, but you realized you hardly knew this woman and by the second time you're already in her house and longing to hear her call you baby again.

Get a grip and get going.

It was a mantra that played in your head as you began to do just that. You gasped and began looking all over. "I...my phone. I should probably see if someone can come get me." You blinked a few times as well before unfolding your legs and getting up.

Not even giving it a second thought as your sock clad feet pattered up the stairs and rushed into the room you left from this morning. Your clothes were folded on the chair in the corner. Your bag next to the chair and boots tucked under. Your rushed and crouched next to it, rummaging through everything and finding it in your coats pocket.

A few notifications from the other night, friends questioning if you made it ok. Then there were the missed calls from them, a collection of worried text. Your eyes jumped from them all up to the time. It was past ten and your fingers moved as you sat on the floor responding to people.

You didn't notice how much time passed as you became engrossed in your phone and catching up. The device began to ring as Jen began to call. You answered and raised it to your ear, lying back onto the soft carpet and spreading out on it.

"My god we all thought you died!" She exclaimed right away. "Did you make it home? What happened?!"

Your giggle answered first, "do you remember that woman from the train I mentioned to you?" You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth.

"You were practically drooling just by the thought of her."

"Well, she just so happened to be there and she took me back to her home and I stayed there. But I need you to tell me this is crazy. Earlier, she was with friends and they and I quote go 'you can even bring your new plaything'."

"Oh my- girl did you accidentally stumble upon a sugar mommy or something? You literally manifested that shit!"

"No, Jen...I hardly know the woman."

"But you could! Think of all the things this could do. You could be smart with your money too. Move closer to Broadway with us."

"I like my apartment! Yeah it's a little far, but it's self manageable. Plus, I highly doubt she would actually be into that. And we have a show to focus on."

"Oh my god! Seriously if you skip another chance I'm going to beat the shit out of you! Why are you so unfocused on your love life?"

"Because you're my best friend and will only feed into my delusions so I have to be the sane one that listens to you go on and on about Alice." You rolled onto your stomach and began kicking your feet. "But she is hot. God and she keeps calling me 'baby'."

"She so wants you."

"I think I should get going though...call Dottie or something."

"Oh no hun, she said she had something with her kids and my best bet is she is still not available. Sooo in retrospective you are stranded with a really hot lady who could possibly or possibly not be a sugar mommy waiting for someone to come along."

"Jen...I just don't think it's the right time. I want to make a name before I settle down."

"You know, if you do that then how will you be able to tell they're not with you for just the money and fame? Also you're not settling down, just exploring."

"Saying I'm not likable?"

"No you are every ounce of likable, it's what almost makes you unlikable. But I just think that this is the perfect setup and you should take the advantages that are clearly laid in front of you. You yourself said you needed some extra help financially so here's your help."

" I don't know...I don't think she deserves to be taken advantage of."

A beat of silence from her. "I love you and all, but you might just be the dumbest person I've talked to all day and I've been surrounded by idiots."

"Ouch."

"She literally, if you openly asked her flat out, would you be my sugar mommy, I put money she'd say yes! You so have to!"

"No! Even though she's the most striking woman I have ever met and she has such a look. You should've heard her earlier, I mean I wish I had instead of becoming curious about her skin. She makes me beyond curious."

"You're a freak when curious."

"Earlier...we were sitting on the couch and she rolled her head back and I just couldn't stop thinking of kissing her neck."

"Did you know, you actually have been mentioning slightly how badly you want to fuck that woman ever since you told me about her? You don't remember the night right after show ended you came over, we got drunk, you told me in great detail?"

"I could've given you more."

"You are such a lie to what people know."

"What because I'm a human and have natural attraction?"

"Because you're an absolute menace!"

"I tell you I want a mysterious woman I met on a train that has bewitched me with her alluringness to tie me down and then some once or twice and now suddenly I'm a menace?"

"You want me to tie you down?" Lilia's voice carried into the bedroom. Your eyes finding her leaning against the door frame with a surprised smile.

"I will take grave details when we see each other again. This has to be an in person debrief. Love you. Have fun." The line went dead as you lowered the phone down from your ear.

Your cheeks were on fire as you stared with wide eyes. Your throat was tight and your breathing was ragged. There was no way she actually heard you. You blinked rapidly and shook your head. "No! That- I- how long were you there?"

She began to walk in the room, and you don't know what possessed you but you were crawling to meet her in the middle. And it did something to her. It made something shift and click into place when she looked at you again. Her hand coming to your cheek. "Oh baby, long enough and I must say I only caught half that conversation but it sounds like we should talk. Don't you think?"

You dumbly nodded and scrambled to follow her onto the bed. You sat at a reasonable distance, not too far to ruin any chance, but not close enough to seem easy and desperate (even if you were). You stared at her as she slowly crouched onto the comforter. She moved so elegantly compared to your loose movements.

"What did you and your little friend talk about?" She began so quickly. Not even trying to explain first, wanting to know what you knew now and you had told her. You told her everything with no hesitation. Mentioning Jen's theory that Lilia was a sugar mommy.

"People will talk." You flat out said. Your decision was already made since the first train encounter. But you wanted some fight for it to not go through, needing a bigger sign to reassure yourself.

"Talk is cheap." Lilia responded. Her eyes were searching all over you. Drinking you in like she was the most dehydrated plant in the dessert. "What is it that you want?"

You wanted to get to know her more. You wanted to know what adventures she could take you on. You wanted to know how she tasted, how she kissed, how she used those hands. You wanted to know if it would be forever or just temporarily. You wanted to know her deepest secrets and her to know yours. You wanted to know if you could love her.

"I don't know...maybe this is something to be thought over?" You had countered your drumming heart. Its rhythm went from love struck sixteenth notes on a snare to a cello's symphony of sorrow.

What were you doing?

"Well why don't you get ready and I'll drive you home then?" She spoke only after a hesitating breath.

The rest of the time was quiet. You didn't know what to say anymore and honestly couldn't believe yourself. You knew you were tempted by this woman, you just couldn't risk anything yet. Not with everything you had going on with the show (is what you told yourself).

Even as more days went on and on, Lilia grew from a single thought into a plague of them. Anytime you weren't rehearsing or focusing in on something, it was her you thought of. People began noting your ever growing curiosity and distant looks as your focus would wander off so easily. Yet you never missed a beat so no one ever brought it up.

Except as opening night came, Jen could hear your curiosity and she knew you were no where near focused. "Ok, hey!" She snapped in front of your face, turning your chair to face her. "What the actual what is going on with you? Everyone has come to me asking about this dazed look you're always in. So what is it? I mean I actually already know what it is, so what happened?"

You blinked and sighed as your brows furrowed, you were back to reality and heard her question. "I think I'm ready to play by your advice."

Her eyes widened and a shocked smile slapped its way on her face. "Oh!... Oh! Actually?" She seemed in pure disbelief at the idea. "What did you do?"

"She asked me what I wanted. And yeah we all know the obvious answer, I'm a doomed hopeless romantic, but I told her I wanted to think it over." You were hearing yourself for the first time out loud since. "I can't help but to think I played the wrong move?"

"No! No! Now take this chance to make her practically need you. She's had you in and out of reality for the last few days and weeks. You should call her after the show, or text her." She advised.

"I don't have her number..." you sighed. Trying to conjure up any way to find her again. "The train. I'll take the train home and hope to find her."

"Are you sure you really want to take the train for this? The snow is rolling in quick and if you get stranded.." Jen jingled her keys slightly by her side.

You shook your head, "no really I don't mind the train rides at night. Usually there's like no one with me so I'm mostly safe." You rounded the corner to cross the stage out.

Both you and Jen had stopped at the sight of an Alice and someone else. "Oh! Matter of fact this is her!" Alice waved you over. You turned to Jen, mumbling a goodnight before joining the two. Feeling shy under the attention of the woman. "This is Lilia Calderu. She's an old friend and wanted to meet you. I have to go though, Jen's probably waiting out in the car already. Have a goodnight you two and you," she turned to you, "get home safe."

You tried not to cringe physically as the woman left you alone so quickly. It was silent until the sound of the backstage doors locking back. It was truly just the two of you now. "You're taking the train home? Even in this weather?"

"It's the only transportation I have at the moment. It's easier anyways." You spun your head to pass her briefly before looking into the empty crowd. "So you know Alice?"

"I worked with her mother a few times. Let me drive you home tonight." She didn't sound like she was asking you and you wanted to know how commanding she could be.

Your head turned and you finally looked at her. "Are you following me?" You don't know why that was the question that got out, but you didn't back down from it. Even when she laughed in your face.

"No, but I do think it's no coincidence this is the third time we've met. So let me drive you home tonight." She insisted again. Her big brown eyes silently pleaded for you to go with her and not the train again.

"I'm out of your way, that's too much inconvenience." You denied with a shake of your head.

She sighed and grabbed your hand. Ignoring your questions and dragging you with her out. You could see the car finally in the dim back lights. Your eyes examined the exterior. "You have a nice car," you stood behind her as she opened the passenger door.

The interior was contrasting to the dark black that coated the outside. It was light and crème with a darker brown accenting it. You began to really process how old the car was when you noted the lack of center console. This wasn't a car you ate in while gossiping. The seats were close, almost one long bench, and you wondered how close you would actually be.

"It's a 1973 Porsche. It was in a car show and I thought it would be a nice one to own." She stepped aside for you to get in. Humming in content as you had finished fighting her. You watched as she went around the front and slide in on her side.

Your answer was you were dangerously close. You could smell her perfume radiating from her and she smelt like luxury flowers. Subtle and strong. "How much did you pay for it?" Your eyes kept taking in every detail.

"The real question is what everyone else couldn't pay for it. Those childish men didn't know when to stop." She shook her head at the memory of the day she got the car.

The way she brushed it off to be nothing made your heart beat find its way between your legs. She spoke like it was hardly a dent in her bank. That it was a rigged game almost. That nobody else was going to be beat her for this car from the very start.

"Are you a witch?" The question was out before you noticed and her eyes snapped to you. They were boring through you and it made you feel drunk. Her attention alone made you feel drunk. And as the feeling grew, you found yourself in a fit of giggles.

Lilia took advantage in the moment and really watched the smile reach your eyes. To see you in a natural state with no knowledge of it. "Now why would you ask me that?" She laughed back her answer.

You raised a finger to your lips, "it's a secret now." Your cheeks were the cutest shade of pink she'd ever seen and she couldn't contain herself anymore.

In the back alley of a small theater, Lilia Calderu let the intrusive thoughts win.

While still in your fit of giggles, you missed how she began to shift around and then suddenly was above you while your back dug against the car door. A predatory smirk graced her lips right before they fell to your neck. You gasped at the first soft kiss, giggles instantly subsiding. Nothing was funny as her lips danced around your neck, searching for the most sensitive point.

When's he found it, she added a little more force. Earning a throaty moan that never made it past your lips. Then she bared her teeth and, grazing the spot before latching on and sucking. "Lilia!" You gasped and a hand naturally flew to her pulled up curls.

"Is it because I've bewitched you? Is that why you ask?" Her tongue ran over the bite marks and pressed a kiss over it. "That's what you said to your friend is it not?"

You hummed under her, "so you are a witch?" You tried to sound somewhat grounded, but with her having you like this, biting all over your neck, you only ended up gasping.

"Do you wanna see what magic these hands can do?" She whispered against your ear before grazing the shell of your ear. "Would you like that baby?"

You giggled deeply, "fuck yes. What are you gonna do to me?" Your eyes began to darken with curiosity as your body kept rising to meet her warm body.

She agonizingly slow found her way back into her seat. Eyeing for you to sit up yourself and get comfortable. "You have a curious imagination, what wondering can you do to find your answer?" She began to pull out. The snow flakes began to grace the earth with their frosty presences.

You felt hot in the car though. Lilia's right hand rested on your thigh and lightly was scratching it. The action made you groan quietly and realize how long this car ride was actually about to be. "That'd be telling you all my fantasies." You had finally answered her question. "Have you thought of things...you'd want to do?"

You felt young and dumb at her wise chuckle. "Oh you have no idea the things I've imagined. And I'll make you an offer you can't resist." She began to shift her focus between the road and you. Pleased with how big your eyes were. You really couldn't help yourself and she was already loving how expressive you were. She knew you were silently asking her what.

That was the night your arrangement had fallen into place. By the end of that weekend you had an agreement signed. She would keep you financially stable, you'd never have to worry about any expense ever again. She didn't care for your protest against not being able to pay for anything, which then led to you swindling it down to any living expense. Any luxury would be your own money. Even though she would give you an allowance every three weeks of three thousand. You got financial stability and free money. Although, you weren't too sure what Lilia got out of it. You were expecting it to be sex in return, that's how most of these things happened. But she didn't right away, she would work you up with just those hands and a few questions that implied many things, but were so simple you never knew. She was keeping you curious and you didn't even realize it.

It was the evening of New Year's Eve and you had been spending a lot of your free time glued to Lilia. She didn't even ask you to, you just found yourself craving to be next to her when she's not working (which you quickly found out you just wanted to always be by her). She had joked that you should just begin to move in. She was sitting in her study with a notebook on the table and she was writing something, you sat under the desk, your legs folded neatly next to you.

You had been in the arrangement for a basically two weeks and still lacked to know what it was she did. Even as you sat on the floor with your head in her lap as her non-dominant hand twisted your hair around her fingers, she didn't tell you. "We should start getting ready soon for the party..."

Sleepily, your head lifted from its spot and bumped against her hand that blocked the sharp wooden edge. Last time you hit it (two days ago) you had sat still on the ground and cried briefly in her lap as she ran a soothing thumb over the spot. "Are we getting ready together?" You got out within a yawn. Crawling away from under and into the open space to fully stand and stretch. You looked back over your shoulder.

"I'm afraid not baby, otherwise we'd never get ready on time." She rose from her seat and gave you almost an apologetic look to your subtle frown.

You gave an understanding nod before slipping off to your room. Lilia had gone through with the party and wanted you as her plus one. But as you had stood in nothing but a black bra and matching panties, you had remembered no theme.

You shook your head and without much thought wrapped the short silk robe around you loosely and ran across the hall. Giving her big door a knock before prying open the piece of wood and poking your head around first. The room was silent as you moved further in, "Lilia?" You called into the master bedroom.

She came around from the bathroom, "yes baby?" She answered before her eyes found you.

You both had done a sweep over the other. Her eyes focusing on the amount of leg you were showing while yours focused on her chest being held up nicely by her bra. Your cheeks burned when you noticed how long you had been silent and staring.

"I...the theme.." you raised the issue you faced. You began to assume it was something more classy as she wore black flowy formal pants. You wondered what they would look like with your cum smeared on them. Your legs crossed as you couldn't stop looking at the piece of clothing.

"It's all black classy half indoors and half outside. But if you're going to wear a skirt or dress, I want you to put tights underneath. Understood?" She gave you that look and you stiffly agreed before rushing back out.

You had no idea what she was wearing but the pants alone did things to you. You were eager to match her. Although, all you owned was clubbing material from college. Which meant everything is shorter than what'd you buy now. You started simple with the tights, thankful for fleece lining. Along with the heels Lilia had gifted you as a welcome gift. They were Red Bottoms, you promised her to take the best care of them since you knew they costed a pretty penny (even if she reassured you it was nothing).

Shimming into the tights, you kept searching over your outfits. A strapless mini black dress grabbed your attention. Its neck line was a trusting heart that held your girls up even without your bra, which was indeed removed as you hated how the material could be seen. You were content with it but you instantly had to address the lack of accessories.

You had a small jewelry box with you, it was one of those things you always carried with you when you knew you were spending a few nights away from home. There were a few silver pieces, you grabbed out three and slid them onto your left wrist. As your fingers searched through the fake silver rings, you began to smile. You loved decorating your hands with rings.

The last things were your makeup and hair, which took longer than you expected but you looked good. And once you had fluffed your hair and did it how you do, you were feeling good. You had been staring at yourself in the mirror when she knocked. "Come in," you softly granted. Watching through the mirror as Lilia came in.

Your breath caught when she had fully came in. Lilia leaned against the wall in the same black pants and a black buttoned up shirt that was left a few buttons undone. The tarot card necklace she always wears drawing your eyes and lazily pulling them down to her cleavage. "That's what you're wearing? Won't you be cold?" She pushed off the wall and sat on the edge of the bed. Her hands brought the shoes closer and then snapped for your obedience.

"I don't think so, I plan to wear a coat over." You stood in front of her and raised a foot up to her while stabilizing yourself with her shoulder.

"Which coat?" She had slipped the shoe on and began fastening it, "too tight?"

Your hair shook, "uh-uh and I have this really dramatic furry black one. I'm pretty sure it's fake fur but I thrifted it a while ago. It's great for pretending I have money." You switched feet on the tap at your ankle.

"Mm, people will know it's fake." She was more smooth with the second shoe, now having a note of how tight you liked your heels. "Let me see if I have anything lying about." She tapped your ankle again before standing up, still having to look up even in her own heels. Leaning forward and planting her red painted lips to your collar bone, leaving her signature as she moved out.

That night you had never once wiped away the mark as you drank and mingled about the high class. Yet as the night kept dragging closer to midnight, everyone seemed to get more and more drunk.

You were everyone.

You had found Lilia and snuck up on her from behind. Arms draping over her shoulder and then hugging around her as your head buried into her neck. Placing kisses all across it as she kept speaking with the group. Her own thumb rubbed back and forth on your forearm.

"The next one was pitched during august and is to be ready by summer. We're aiming to have it be the summer hit." Lilia was still composed and hardly tipsy. You were growing curious if she ever drank at all. "It's an absolute wonderful storyline and the music is so in tune with the characters."

"Well we can't wait to see it," a woman had hummed. Pleased to hear that there was something grand to look forward to. Her voice sounded familiar.

You pulled your head from hiding and stared at the woman. She wore a black floor length dress that fell off her shoulders, a broach right in the middle of the neck line. She was accompanied by another woman, she wore a suit with a dark green tie. Had she been further away you wouldn't have been able to tell it was green. Both had their eyes on you the moment you revealed yourself.

"And who's this, Calderu?" The one in the tie had raised her brow at you. She was attractive, but not like Lilia. She was a scary attractive, that she'd probably be into some freaky shit if you let her have her way. You didn't want that though, just Lilia.

You stood tall at the sound of your name coming from her mouth. A hand naturally sticking itself out to be shaken. "This is Agatha Harkness and Rio Vidal. One of Broadways biggest power couple."

"It's a pleasure to meet you both!" You hiccuped and felt them shake your hand. "I'm sorry it's not under sober circumstances, I truly am a huge fan and wish I met you before I did the shots with the guy from the circus musical over there. He's got a great voice honestly. Now, Lilia..it's almost midnight." You spoke the truth even if it was slurred.

"Ahh yes, ladies if you'll excuse me it's almost midnight." She bowed her head before letting you pull her through the crowd. It was beyond her how you could manage to slip perfectly through and find a secluded balcony. It had a small loveseat that you wondered how it would feel to bask in the summer sun here.

You wasted no time sitting down and sighing. Your eyes closed as the blackness spun quickly. "Lilia...I drank too much fancy things." You frowned.

Your anchor back to reality was Lilia in your lap attacking your neck with her teasing lips. "That'll happen when you do shots of dark after only drinking champagne with me." You heard the vibrations in her voice and groaned as you pictured her smirk. "You got something to say, baby?"

Your head nodded sluggishly but stilled to look her in the eyes geneuinly. You enjoyed seeing her from your angle. "You look very mommy tonight." You so simply said. "Very classy."

She made a silent 'oh' with her mouth turning right into that cunning smirk. "You really think? I figured you were wearing a dress and the heels-"

"I love my heels!" You so suddenly were on a new topic, your hands squeezing her hips subconsciously and missing the muffled moan. "Oh Lilia they were an amazing gift, and honestly you deserve to get ate out for them." You were such a drunken mess.

Lilia's eyes darkened and she stooped to be by your ear. Her warm breath heating your body from the cold that started to nip at you. "Is that a promise baby?" She left a ghostly kiss behind your ear. Her burning stare only fueled your own fire.

Your mind, in poor attempt, pieced what her moans could sound like. What your name would sound like with you buried between her legs. You wanted to know how she tasted.

"Focus baby." She demanded and it silenced all your thoughts immediately. "Good." She purred. "Sometimes I truly do wonder how long you could think for."

"Forever... if you'd like." You didn't even double think it and it was the most sober thing you had said.

Lilia was appreciative of the dim lighting and your intoxicated state so you wouldn't be able to see how deep of a blush painted her cheeks. Something about how you pulled yourself from not even being coherent in compliments to not missing a single beat for her made her body buzz.

Nothing more was said as the surrounding world began to count from ten. But by one, your lips were pressing desperately into Lilia's and trying to savor how her lips felt. Your hands held her hips tightly as hers held your cheeks. You were stretching up into her, etching the feeling your body was going through into every corner of your mind. You weren't oblivious to how she never kissed you on the lips.

Yes, your arrangement had only been going for a week or so, but you couldn't help to think about what she's getting from the whole thing. Fireworks exploded around you and muted the heavy pants that were leaving you. It was just you, your ever growing curiosity, and her. But every question you had wanted to drunkenly asked, the ones you recited so you wouldn't forget, seemed to be lost and you asked her nothing. You were too busy kissing her after all. Too busy feeling her body rumble with a need you've never encountered before.

You pulled back slowly from her and hummed constantly, your eyes were dark and wide as you stared straight up to her. A smile so soft Lilia swore you could wrap a baby in it and they'd fall asleep in an instant. "Happy new years Lilia." You leaned back to peck her cheek.

She repeated it back to you and stood, offering you a helping hand. You took it and she tugged you a bit closer. "You're not to drink anymore, understood?" She kept it low, just between the two of you.

Unfortunately for you though, you were definelty planning on drinking after that kiss. Too many emotions had risen and you didn't feel like thinking them tonight. But you weren't going to lie to her and make the promise you weren't. "I can't promise that I'll stop but I can promise I won't be a hassle even drunker." You raised a pinky between you, ignoring her intense gaze and staring at the lone finger.

Although you wish you took her advice and stopped. These people knew how to party long, the last time you heard murmurs of was one something. You had done a few more shots and now you just felt icky and drunk with no sign of Lilia anywhere.

"You lost, bunny?" A deep voice wrapped around you. The owner dragged a hand around your waist and came to stand in front of you. It was Agatha with Rio coming from the crowd to stand next to her. They stared at you hungrily. "Bet you drank too much didn't you?"

You frowned and nodded. A pathetic whine escaping your lips when they stepped closer to you. You were feeling trapped. "Have you see. Lilia?" You managed, eyes only catching blobs of people.

"She left a while ago, said something about needing to finish up work?" Rio looked around the room herself, signaling to her wife that the woman in question was no where to be seen. "Was she your ride?" Her hand caught your chin to make you look at her. A sinister grin pulling her lips.

You huffed and broke from the grasp, continuing to search the blobs. "She was supposed to be...she wouldn't have left me." You began to walk away, only being pulled back into their web.

"Why don't we take you home, hmm?" Agatha had raised the offer. The couple had talked, and you were their main topic. "I bet we could give you something better than-"

"Lilia!" You cheered as the shorter woman had appeared from the mess of people. You were too busy rushing to her and hiding yourself behind her and in her neck to acknowledge her deathly glare. Breathing her in deeply and giggling. "They said you left and it made me wonder!"

"You can tell me all about it in the car, m'kay?" She brushed your arms before focusing to the other women. "Ladies, I don't know if I have to remind you again, but she's off limits for your games."

Agatha scoffed her laughter, "why? Cause she's too busy playing yours?" She raised a challenging brow. That's where you knew her voice from, she was the one who called you Lilia's play thing.

It's was an intense stare off that was bound to go on if it weren't for you. You had wanted to know more of this possessive side but sober. What would she say to you if she found a hickey from someone else? How would she react? Should she remind you of the agreement? Your hands moved from her shoulders and lazily fell to her waist. You were hugging her more now and humming against her skin.

She let your lips find her ear and then you whispered, "mm I wanna go home Lil'." You sighed out. Your body slightly slumping against her and that's when you remembered you were in heels. Your foot began to lift its self to be freed from the beautiful torture.

"If you'll excuse us. Have a good night." She gave them one last glare right before turning her attention all to you.

Lilia led you for most of the night. Even as you had started stumbling through your night routine. Her hands held you stable and she laughed along with most of your drunk rambling.

You were on about something you did within the night as you stepped into the room. Catching glimpse of you in the mirror, still in the dress and tights that you were dying to get out of. "Mm, can you get the zipper?" You asked while already stripping out your tights. She had appeared behind you with a caring, tired grin of her own. You could hear the tension grow with the sound of the zipper falling.

The dress folded over and pooled at your hips first. Revealing your bare chest as you focused on getting out the fabric. Once you were you stood in nothing but your underwear.

"Baby?" Her voice was deep and raspy. You hummed out your acknowledgement. "Have you been flaunting around all night like this?"

"The dress wasn't going to look good with a bra and I was really wanting to match with you. Especially after I saw the pants you were wearing." Your eyes fluttered lightly as you thought of those pants and blew out.

Now would be the perfect moment. You were practically naked and standing waiting for her next words. Even as her hands slid to your waist, you stayed still and waited for her. "And what about my pants?"

You bit your lip as thoughts filled your eyes. They didn't stop short with details, taunting you yourself and making your body heat up. Lilia was enjoying watching the full body reaction to your own ideas. How she felt you warm up and how your breathing became irregular. Your eyes had fluttered shut as her hands moved further across your body. "Look at me, baby." Your eyes snapped open. She chuckled at how blown your pupils were. "I adore that look in your eyes."

"Lilia..."

Maybe it was the way you whined for her. The way you looked for her in a crowd even when drunk. She hardly had you, and yet she had almost all of you without even realizing. All she knew was you were hers and hers alone, and it drove something in her.

She left from behind you and began to rearrange briefly. Pulling the chair from the corner to be in front of the full body mirror. Lilia took her seat and spread her legs wide, staring through the mirror at you. "What about my pants, baby?" She asked the question again.

Your legs pressed together as you spun to face her. Shivering as her eyes raked over you and darkened even more. She beckoned you forward with a single finger then pointed at the ground. She was demanding you to your knees and you seemed to have no objections as you fell infront of her. One of her wised hands grabbed a fistful of your hair, first pushing you against her own thigh and seeing how you started to fall dazed. Then she lifted your head back and leaned closer.

"I bet...if I pulled these off," her fingers were in the waistband of your black panties. "That you'd be sticking to them without a doubt. Would I be right?" But you didn't have to answer as she went to get her own answer.

Lilia was right. Your faced flushed once you saw how ruined the garment around your thighs. You didn't realize how curious you had been throughout the entire night. You had managed them off the rest of the way yourself, placing them into the expecting hand.

"So, does this curiosity of yours-"

"Mmm," you hummed your protest against the question. Quickly hiding your face into her hip as you really didn't want to crack into that all tonight. Not even drunk you could get through all that embarrassment so soon.

Lilia understood anyways, running her nails dance along your scalp. "Maybe we can discuss it sometime over dinner, hmm? How would that sound?" You gave her another hum, this one being open to many interpretations. There was silence and it was peaceful enough for you to begin to drift in and out. "Why don't...we save this for when you're ready?"

Your head bobbed against her and that's when you swayed backwards. The first thing you did was gaze up to her, "sleep with me tonight..." you used her thighs to help yourself up, giving them a soft squeeze.

There was no space for argument as you began to get yourself ready for bed. Slipping into a big shirt you had managed from a drawer, you grabbed another and handed it aimlessly out. Honestly you weren't too sure if Lilia had grabbed it or you dropped it, but all you saw was a grand bed calling your name. You wanted to know all about the bed.

The arrangement was coming up to its first month and there were still many things you were yet to touch on. The main one still being what Lilia was getting from this whole deal.

You had pushed through her front door and sighed at the emptiness of the inside. Lilia was gone on some business trip, for what business, you seemed to keep yourself in the dark by never even looking her up. You wanted her to tell you instead.

She was supposed to be back tonight, having texted you earlier to be at her house when she got home. There wasn't much else given, you couldn't figure out her tone, her emotion, nothing. The text was so stale you were in the dark on what to do. But what you did do was pickup some take out to bring over on your way. It resided in the fridge for now.

You sat on the couch, you had made yourself cozy as you just waited. What 'cozy' came with though were a few shots of whatever was in her stash. Curious to know what this was about, but also nervous because you didn't know what this was about.

And eventually the locks began to undo and the front door revealed the woman of your desires. A tall man behind her dropping all her baggage by the door and sharing a mumbled conversation with her before leaving. The door was locked again and the house began to warm with the owner back in it.

You slid off the couch and right to her, standing proud in her gaze. The furrow in between her brow had ceased to exist as she took you in being. You stood in a white long sleeve that was just teasing being see through with little navy blue underwear, a white little bow at the waist band. Your hair was free and you had a never ending amount of adoration radiating from your stare.

"Hello, baby." She began. Her simple name for you had you practically melting already to be in her space. She came closer and smiled softly up to you. Her hands already knowing their place around your waist as she brought herself into you and began to slowly kiss up your neck.

Her teeth grazed the side muscle and you sighed. "Hi Lilia..was your trip good?" She groaned into you and tightened her grip on you. Her teeth lightly clamped to you. "Not good I assume? What..." you attempted, but stopped at the harsher bite delivered to your skin.

"You know you could always look it up." She answered the unasked question. You shivered at her tongue soothing over her bite marks. "Or is it the curiosity that you get off on?"

A hand flew to the pulled up curls, burying itself near her roots. "Lilia..." you whined in attempt to get off the situation.

"I wonder if you think of all the different jobs I could have, do you?" Lilia's voice was daring as her hands were adventurous on your body. She had you in her web and you were caught and never wanted to leave. Your head nodded vigorously as her thumbs brushed under your boobs. "Or is it deeper than that? You get too curious and begin to think of the things that could happen? Maybe you think of me bending you against an office desk and making only my name the only thing you know?"

You sighed as your imagination and curiosity teamed up and fed you with the very idea. You thought of how she would hold that promise if you knew what she did. That if she had a desk you were determined to be fucked over it. You whined again for her.

Lilia detached herself from you, "how'd you find out about it anyways? Your curiosity. Got too curious one day and started feeling a tingle?" She was staring, expecting an answer to her questions but you just started short circuiting. You began stuttering instead, making her chuckle and shake her head.

She walked past you and into the kitchen. Grabbing the wine glass before freezing and noting the moved bottles and empty wine glass. You stood still, watching her point slightly at the bottle. Immediately you were caught. "You've been drinking baby?"

"I got nervous," your voice was meek and barely audible. You were quick to pull out your doe eyes and come closer to her at the beckoning of her single finger.

"Do you know how hard you make this?" Lilia raised after a second of taking you in. She was talking about the stares you give her as you stood there in a fitted gray long sleeve that just covered over the hem of the matching shorts. But she knew if you raised your arms up just enough, she'd see your midsection.

"I'm not doing anything though?" You were quiet in her presence tonight.

Lilia smiled at that, "oblivious to your own beauty, baby. Truly do you have a bad quality?" She leaned closer to you. A careful hand stroking your cheek. "Let me into your thoughts, what's going on up there?"

You quickly tried to gather a reasonable answer, "what am I making hard?" Was the first thing you managed, shifting closer to her.

The older woman inhaled," this arrangement."

"I wanted to asked you about that." Was quick out your mouth as you climbed over to the couch. She came over as well, wine glass in hand and you found yourself next to her almost in her lap. "I'm confused about what you get from it. I get money...but you haven't asked me for anything really. You give a few kisses to my neck here and there but that's it. You'll talk a little deeper and tease me, but that's it. So what is it that you are getting from our arrangement?"

She threw back the rest of her glass, getting up to pour herself another. You realized she was avoiding your question and stalling. It was in her distant look that clarified it. There was something she wanted but she wasn't asking you for it.

So you waited till she came back and straddled her lap, giving her no choice but to meet your gaze. "Lilia...what can I give you?" You were dying to find out how to return anything.

Her hands caressed your hips, causing them to roll forwards on their own. "I want to know why your curiosity is always so strong." She charted the waters that you've tried to steer away from. You bit the inside of your cheek, debating if the answer was really worth pleasing her. It was an embarrassing story.

"When I was a kid, ten and below, it was genuine curiosity. I just wanted to know what everything in the world was. Then in middle school kids started to figure out what somethings are, and curiosity is a signature trait when growing. It started simple, very vanilla, but then....there's a lot of kinky shit people are into. And being curious it never stopped. But that's not how it really started, it started sometime in high school." You started to relive the days in your mind as you gave her a story. You told it as you saw it and you could tell you were giving her details you would've never told anyone else. Even if it made you flustered and you had to will your body not to move under her hold.

By the end of it, you had a few beads of sweat decorating your forehead and your cheeks were burning red. You didn't even want to think of how wet you must be standing here. You were taking shallow breathes and your throat felt dry. Your vision finally came from your memories to the present. Meeting those brown eyes you found yourself drowning in recently. "And that's why my curiosity is a curse."

Lilia stared for a second. She must've been trying to gather her thoughts of the history of your curse. You, however, weren't expecting her first response to be a bruising hold to your hips as her eyes closed and she took in a big breath. It made you worry if it was too much and she was now uncomfortable or if it wasn't the answer she wanted.

"Is that it? Does that make this over?" You quietly yet quickly asked. Tears beginning to threaten your eyes. You weren't ready to loose her so soon.

She saw the switch in your emotions. To reassure you she gently grabbed your face and brought your forehead to hers. "No baby, it's not over." She whispered so softly to you. "When we made this agreement...I had set a goal to find out how far your curiosity could go, where it stemmed from. Especially when you look at me with those big eyes and furrowed brows."

Your glassy eyes blinked once or twice while leaning back. You were deciding on what you wanted to do from here. You kind of got an answer, even if it didn't explain her avoidance of really fucking you. You for a fact (maybe the most truest one of all) you wanted her to fuck you. Your body practically begged for her hands on the daily. Especially after telling her all about how you touched yourself in high school, your body was worked up and ready. "There's very few things that make me uncomfortable in bed...." your pupils were almost covering all the color in your eyes. "God, Lilia just fuck me. I can't- you have to now. Otherwise I'll have to finish-"

A harsh kiss was silencing you as you moaned into her lips. You were quick with getting rid of her glass before burying your hands all in the hair. You twisted and brought her down with you. The kiss grew messy, oh was it messy. When Lilia pulled away, a trail of saliva kept you both connected. "New years..." she began. Coming back in for another messy kiss, before breaking away to behind your ear. "I had you right there. On your knees..." her lips dropped to your pulse and sucked hard. "And do you know the sight I had the graces of seeing?"

You head shook back and forth, "uh-uh"

Her fingers were in your waistband and pulling your panties down once again. The strands of wetness went with before snapping coldly back against your bare pussy. "You're soaking baby."

"Only for you, Lil" you gasped as your hips rolled against nothing. Your heart was hammering against your ribs as her fingers ran up and collected your slick.

"I'm gonna have so much fun with you sweet thing." Her lips curled when she brought them to view. "The question is where to start."

Her head dipped back between your neck. You giggled out your moan, "your job...why won't you tell me?" You fiddled with the ponytail holder in her hair. You wanted her hair free and wild.

Her smirk against your skin made you heat even more. "Maybe I want to keep you guessing."

"Does it have something to do with mine and that's why?" Your hips jolted up at the featherlight touch that was given to your clit. Lilia's hot breath fanned over the saliva that covered the bruises.

"You gonna piece it together while I eat you out? Is that your plan?" She started moving lower on your body, flattering her tongue in your hardening nipple through the fabric of your shirt. Your body arched up to her. "But yes, my job does play with yours." Her mouth sucked through the fabric.

You struggled to piece together your next question. Her mouth felt heavenly but the shirt was killing you. You needed out of it and out fast. You sat up, Lilia following and knowingly pulled your top up and off.

"Baby do you ever wear a bra?" Her eyes didn't even have to look away from yours to know. "You wanted to tease me?"

Her questions only fuels your inquiry. Did you do it to tease her? To hope it would get her enough that she'd pounce on you? Did you dress for her? Have you been? "How much influence do you have with theater?"

Her head was on your other nipple, giving it the same attention. "Enough to make or break a career." Her voice was low as she released your boob with a crisp pop, pushing you back down with a single finger. "I've made many stars and destroyed many already."

Her touch ghosted over your sides. "Should I be worried about my future then?" Your breath hitched in your chest as her lips pressed right above your bundle of nerves. You were trying to piece together what she could be but with her on you it was harder than normal.

"No, I know how to keep work and personal separate. You have nothing to worry about." She was nestled between your legs now. You managed to pick your head up to see, the sight alone was almost enough to send you over. Lilia noticed it in your eyes as she bored hers up to you. "I want you to keep asking your questions, baby."

"What's your job tit- mmmh." Her tongue swiped through your slit and it was when you knew you were truly in for a challenge. Between a few pants and hums you managed to ask for her job title. She was casting spells on you with her tongue.

"You can't freak," She spoke against you and the vibrations made you let a noise from your chest up. You babbled your agreement, slowly lapsing yourself to the pleasure. "I'm CEO of the theater wing."

Your heart either skipped a beat from dropping into your stomach, or from dropping to your core. The power she really did have. She could easily bring you up to the top, or she could easily blackball you and take everything. "fuck me..." You exhaled and earned a laugh from below. The knot in your tummy tightened. "Would...would you ever ruin me?" Your hand flew to her curls as she picked up the pace and began to really dive in. The question was unanswered as your body began to convulse against the couch. Her name tumbling from your mouth in a careful cry.

Lilia leaned back onto her legs that were folded under her as she used her thumb to wipe off your juices from her chin and suck the finger clean. Never once taking her eyes off your disheveled body. Her eyes really raking over your bareness and twinkling at the marks she left behind. "I guess it depends what you mean." She had a cocky smirk on her face.

"In both ways. Would you?"

The brown eyes snapped up to you and you enjoyed how she let you see the mischief in her eyes. You knew she had a few thoughts run through her mind, "I would never ruin your career, but you...you sure you're okay with this?"

You laughed and sat up, crawling over her now and kissing her hungrily. "I wouldn't have let you eat me out if I wasn't. Are you okay with this still?"

"Yeah...I'm still good with this." Her hands squeezed over her bruises lightly and gave you a slower, more sensual kiss. Hers was brief, although you protested and chased her back. "Let's go upstairs baby, we're gonna need more space."

You beamed and agreed, helping her up and leading her to the bedroom you'd only slept in a few times. Your eagerness was shinning the moment that door closed for the night. "What things don't you like?" Her right hand pointed to the small bench at the foot of the bed, commanding you to sit there.

"Anal, piss kinks, anything that involves food. Oh and toe sucking, leave my feet alone all together actually!" You stalked her steps as she moved about the room and looked like she was reminding herself where everything was.

"And the things you like?" She asked and you heard the smile in her voice. Her answers however was you blushing and giggling sweetly to yourself. Lilia joined in when coming closer to you and standing right in front of you. Her hand holding your jaw just so you could look at her. "I don't give you permission to giggle."

It was like a switch had flipped in you. The noise had subsided almost instantly under her intense gaze. "I like a lot of things. I like hickies, one for the world to see but then the rest just for me. I like being bound, overstimulated, tickled, fucked dumb, anything really. If it makes me curious it's a bonus." You kept your list simple, it went on longer cause that's just the curious freak in you.

"Is there anything you want to try now?" She was giving you the chance to choose where this night was going. A chance to not embarrass yourself, but that's not what you wanted.

"You know what I really want? Like more than anything right now?" Your eyes enlarged right before her. Lilia gracefully shook her head. "I want you to let go. Stop holding back from me entirely. I want you, Lilia...I'm yours however you please."

You were playing a dangerous game with her now. Her lips latched to your pulse, more aggressive than usual as she bared her canine teeth and let them sink in just a little more. Listening to the mewl you let out as the pain made your body fill with pleasure. Her tongue soothed over it, then trailed away as she moved agonizingly slow down your body. She slipped from the bed after placing a kiss right below your belly button. Her eyes were dark and swarming with ideas while she stared your naked body down. You could tell when she landed on her first move.

Lilia had grabbed turned and sat on the bench at the foot of the bed, her back now towards you. "Crawl to me baby." Her voice was low and making your ears ring. You did just that, you went from the side of the bed around. Her fingertips hovered the curve of your back before you sat in front of her. "You're so willing to be treated this way?" She was checking in with you, the slight highlight of worry in her eyes.

"I told you I was very open...are you ok treating me this way? Is this what turns you on? Being in control?" And there was that curiosity again, it never left you and Lilia was realizing she should stop questing if it ever did.

She took a moment to consider, "I do enjoy seeing you on your knees for me." Her hand ran into your hair, and suddenly she was recreating new years. Pulling your head against her thigh. "And this..did you know you make it hard to work when you lay in my lap? I can feel your feather touch tracing patters just barely."

You licked your lips at the idea. Did it really work her up the way she worked you up? Your hand daringly began to trace patterns on the side of her thigh, eyes searching for the reaction in her face. Yet she challenged you and gave you nothing. "What else? What else?" Left your lips eagerly. You were bubbling with the need to know.

Lilia's lips curved into a nasty smirk as she conjured the rest of the night up, your promise stood out. "I've had a long business trip, baby. Im sure you could be of some assistance." She leaned back and was right there. The only thing in your way were her trousers. "Go on, put that pretty mouth to use."

Your bottom lip was pulled between your teeth as you were instantly at work to get rid of her pants. Giggling to yourself as her hips lifted up for you, your lips pressed to the soft skin that was already revealed. You heard her gasp at the feeling and it only spurred you on. Once they were off you threw them off into some corner, eyeing the wet patch on her underwear. You kissed your way up both thighs, leaving one right above the wet spot.

Your hands ran against the back of her legs, fingers pressing into her calves and massaging them. You wondered who was in this position before you. What they might've looked like and how they got here, and it surprisingly made your fingers twitch with jealousy. "Was there someone before me?" You whispered to the inside of her knee. This time, it was Lilia who hummed to get off topic. Except you didn't accept it and grazed your teeth against her. "Did you find them the way you did me?" You climbed closer, fingers tugging at the remaining barrier.

"Why does it matter?" She exhaled, she couldn't get anything else out once the cold air breezed over her. Lilia had groaned your name at the littering of kisses. Gasping when your tongue flattened against her.

"I want to know who I'll be putting to shame when I'm done with you." You didn't waste anytime and started lapping her up. Her moans echoed through the room. The lovely sound of her pleasure wrapped you up in pride. "Tell me." You growled, slowing your pace.

Lilia's chest raised in gasping breathes. Your name falling from her mouth in warning, but you didn't let up. "Fine...there was one other..whiles back...you're the first female baby."

You sped up again, the thought of putting men to shame always ignited something else in you. Knowing that you were doing better already just by sex. It wasn't long before Lilia was coming on your tongue, pushed into another orgasm as you couldn't get enough. She had to grab a strong fistful of your hair to get you to ease up.

When you looked up, you had to crash into her lips. Placing yourself in her lap, a hungry drive for more leading you to abuse all over her neck. "You do that to everyone you eat out?"

"uh-uh, you're a special someone." You were ready for another go. Your hot breath fanned over her entire neck. "Do you still need a second?"

"You want to go again? Twice wasn't enough for you?" She chuckled at your still wandering lips. They were near the shell of her ear, parting just a bit more to graze your teeth. Her breathing hitched at your own laughter.

"Until you have to tap out..." you purred as her hands slid over your hips. You loved how her touch felt and you would die in it if you could.

Her grip tightened, "why don't we focus on you for a bit, baby? It's my turn to be curious. Up, on the bed." She pushed you back and off. Motioning to the bed as she spun to her knees on the bench. Staring at you intently while you got situated in the feather pillows.

Lilia's skilled hands undid the buttons to her top without breaking the eye contact. She was left in just a bra, one you were hoping to get the honor of taking off. She proceeded to find home between your legs, pulling your body closer to her with a dark chuckle. It was like she had used magic to make the vibrator appear.

The buzzing sound had made you erupt into a fit off a mixture of gasping, begs, and giggles. The older woman was curious as to where this reaction came from. Your knuckles turned white from how tight you were gripping the sheets. "Lil'..." you giggled when she kissed your clit. "I should warn you."

You managed to perch yourself up enough to see her between your legs and you knew she saw you clench at nothing. "Warn me about what baby?"

Right as you opened your mouth she pressed the vibrator against you and watched you collapse against the bed. Already writhing under the sensation, getting worse when she added her tongue to you. "Mmm, fuck. Lilia...is this what you pictured?" You managed instead. You were right there, on the edge of the most earth shattering orgasm.

She hummed against your body, it mixing with the electric vibrations. "It's one of the many ways..." she's pictured you in other ways. What ways? How many ways? God was she really going to ruin you? Fuck you'd let her! You'd let her do anything! She looked so perfect between your legs already, how else would she look this way with you?

Your body convulsed as you screamed her name so loud you swore the neighbors heard. Even after she removed every sensation, your body kept twitching as you tried to catch your breath. You stared straight into the ceiling, swearing it was turning into the bright light.

"Well I'll be...you're a messy one baby." Lilia laughed as she stood up from the bench. Her chest was dripping with you and it was no secret you had squirted everywhere. "Is that what you were trying to warn me about? A vibrator too much for you?"

"They just wear me out quicker," you had finally steadied yourself. "You'll need to know that, trust me."

She laughed once more. "Noted, now why don't we take a nice bath and go enjoy that takeout you had in the fridge?"

"You never looked in the fridge tho?"

"Maybe I am a witch," she playfully winked at you, but the second look in her eye was begging you to accept it almost like she was.

You squinted for a second, shrugged, "I'm into it. A witch sugar mommy." Her peppered curls shook as she dragged you from the bed to the grand bathroom.

The rest of your night was history.

#reader insert #marvel #fanfic #x y/n #agatha all along #lilia calderu x reader #lilia calderu #patti lupone #wlw #sapphic #wlw smut #lilia calderu smut #sugar mommy calderu

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tiny-space-platypus · 6 months ago

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Part 5 Not your average field trip

Dani had learned that rich people school is SO much different from regular school in the past month and a half. She was actually learning something here unlike the school she used to go to where she'd just sit bored most of the time. She had learnt quite a bit actually. Something that really angered her was realizing that her class bullied Mr.Brother mistaking, bad attitude, Damian Wayne. Though they never actually touched him, just rumors, rather awful jokes, and mean spirited memes. Apparently being a Wayne meant he was practically immune to physical bullying. Something about the others being afraid of his family ruining theirs. Did the Waynes have that much power?

Whatever, Dani has decided she was going to be this boy's friend. So instead of hanging around the other kids she hung around Damian her protective core claiming him as a friend meaning she'd protect him.

Talking to him was almost insufferable though. He was soooooo uptight till Dani started noticing his sketches. Well, that was something they could actually bond over since talking wasn't working. So Dani started bringing her own sketch book though her drawings were mostly blueprints like her brother, she also did like just drawing regular things as well. They might not talk when they spend time together (both finding each other's voice insufferable) but they did share drawings and sometimes even blueprints that the Dannies worked on together. Damian had even admitted they were good! Her brother and her even getting a compliment out of Mr. Always scowling Damian Wayne! Dani got way too excited over that almost falling out of the tree she was dangling from. He compared her to Mr.Grayson Wayne, she huffed when he told her that wasn't a compliment.

Today was like every other day of school. They'd sit in class, do whatever they need to then go out to recess like the rest of the kids. Dani would play games with the other kids for the first half then go sit at the tree with Damian to draw. She was always sitting in the tree hanging upside down. Dani insists it's the best way to draw but Damian doesn't believe her. She's just weird. Anyways today Damian decided to talk with Danielle. "Are you excited for the field trip?" Dani looked down at Damian confused. She didn't know there was a field trip and certainly didn't pay for her spot. She wasn't sure if she could pay for it. "Field trip? I didn't get anything for a friend trip. Did we have to pay for tickets?" Damian scoffed at Danielle not knowing anything about the field trip. They had been talking about in class for a week now. "No you don't need to pay we're going as a class to an aerospace museum. I thought you'd be excited." Just by the look in Danielle's eyes he'd released he messed up. Not that he had upset her but he had hit something she was going to non-stop talk about for the rest of recess. He groaned internationally, at least her rambling was intelligent.

Apparently Gotham academy loved going on field trips and today was supposed to be one of those days. They were going to go to Metropolis to go see The BEST aerospace museum so Dani was excited. She loved space about as much as her brother did after all. Her and her class all got on the bus together and happily chartered with each other, Dani of course sat next to Damian. They were close now after all even if their relationship wasn't built on talking. Damian rolled his eyes at her since she was practically shaking with excitement. Damian and her spent time before the bus ride started doodling for each other then when everyone else got on the bus Dani became much more social with the other students. Telling them about space and aircraft and all sorts of constellations, even drawing them out for them. Everything was going great!

But of course, she was a Nightingale and this was Gotham and things have been going too well for too long. Apparently the weirdo and his gain of fruitloops is the Scarecrow and his goons. As soon as the bus started down the main road the bus was hijacked and forced off course to a graveyard that the Scarecrow used as his base. Dani frowned as they ran over graves and that whenever one of her classmates moved a gun would be pointed towards them. She wasn't afraid they'd actually use it though, they had no intent to kill them if she read their emotions right. She noticed how whenever they threatened someone Damian tensed but in a way that felt more like he was ready to fight not run. Interesting.

Dani was going to wait, she knew that heroes were coming eventually so they wouldn't be missing too long. Then one of the goons mentioned something about them being subjects. Experiments, they were going to be their experiments. Danielle refused to be an experiment again.

Damian had pressed his panic button as soon as the bus was taken over. He could have done something, could have taken out every one of these goons and could have had them back on track to their field trip but that would have blown his cover. He can't blow his cover, he can't put his family in danger. He'd have to wait for the others, he'd have to wait to be rescued.

It was interesting watching Danielle's reactions, she didn't seem scared at all. Actually the only time she seemed any sort of upset was when they ran over grave stones mumbling something about disrespect. Then in an attempt to scare them more the goons brought up the tests they were going to do on them. How they were going to use fear Toxin on them, a new branch of it and they were the first test subjects. Danielle tender at that then tried to get up only to be pulled back down by Damian who was looking at her with a 'what the fuck are you doing?!' Causing her to just smile at him, it was different from her normal smile, this one didn't feel human. This one felt threatening, Damian barely managed to pull her down again. Whispering urgently to her. "Danielle don't- The bats will be here soon, they'll deal with them. Don't kill yourself"

Danielle begrudgingly sat back down next to Damian who now refused to let go of her hand so she didn't do something stupid. So now they were stuck waiting.

It took another 15 minutes to get to their location though they weren't off loaded from the bus. Instead the emergency exit was pressed against a mound of dirt and someone was guarding each one of the emergency exits. They took the role called lists from the adults, guess that was how they were going to determine who it reacts best to. There was a gas canister attached to the top emergency exit. Both Danielle and Damian just stared at it though nothing happened, nothing was coming out frustrating the goon who was supposed to control it. Damian then noticed Danielle's hand growing colder and colder.

They threw in a gas grenade into the bus hitting the adults in the front with gas before stuttering and stopping completely. When the second one was thrown in the one on top stuttered dripping out the concentrated fear toxin.

Dani was creating ice over the exit points for the gas preventing it from spreading but it was slowly getting harder to hold as more grenades were thrown in. This would be so much easier if she could transform but she couldn't do that here. Her reading was probably already going through the roof meaning the GIW- No focus. Just prevent the gas from getting more people. Prevent more people from becoming experiments. She got colder. She looked at Damian for a second then tried to pull her hand away as another grenade was thrown in, instead of the pale yellow of the others this one was bright blood red. Danielle breathed some of it in before freezing that one too. Blood bloom gas, they had blood bloom gas. She choked on it about as much as Damian did. He squeezed her hand as he began to hallucinate. He then attacked her just as the bats finally began to show up taking out the goons and of course losing Scarecrow.

Danielle was holding her own against Damian who was currently trying to tear out her throat. Both now tussling on the ground. Both of them breaking ribs, blackened eyes, broken noses, the works as they battled. This would have been fun if they weren't both poisoned. Maybe when all is said and done Damian would agree to fight her again. Without poison.

Eventually though they were pulled away from each other. Batman holding Damian down as he sprayed something into the kid's face. Danielle almost attacked Batman for it till Damian calmed down and held onto the bat. She hadn't been paying attention to the Red one looking her over and asking questions. She was still breathing heavily from the poison and fighting. His voice caught her attention.

"Ms, are you alright?" RR asked as he touched the red trails left from the blood blooms under her skin. It wasn't a kind of poisoning he's seen before. She flinched away when he touched the trails. Danielle mumbled "Will be, it hurts though"

"We're going to get you to a hospital alright?" It took Danielle a solid 10 seconds before processing what RR had said. The look of pure panic on the little girl's face worried him. "No! No hospitals, No doctors!" Danielle could not go to a hospital, if she went to the hospital they'd realize she wasn't human and if they realized she wasn't human she'd be put back into a lab and Vlad and the GIW.

Danielle was now hyperventilating, causing RR to back track. "Alright, no hospitals. We won't take you to a hospital. Do you know where your home is, we can take you home." Danielle slowly got up and looked at RR then at Damian who was still holding onto Batman. She still looked a little panicked. "Is he going to be alright?" RR looked over at Damian and smiled softly. "Yeah he'll be alright, do you know him?" RR already knew that Damian had been keeping tabs on her but he still wanted to know what she thinks of his brother. "We're friends. Or maybe we were friends, I did break a few of his ribs" she paused and looked away from Damian then back at RR. "Can I go home? Please?" RR was still looking at Basn and Damian but did start to respond. "Yeah after-" he turned to look at her and she was gone. Huh, guess the kid's a meta.

As soon as RR said she could she turned invisible not listening to him complete his sentence. He said yes and that's all she needed. Danielle flew home where Danny was still in the middle of an online class. When she was him she immediately grabbed onto him sobbing. Dani sobbed then passed out mumbling something.

Slight problem, this wasn't Danny. This was Jason who was now very confused and concerned. Dani in her slightly delirious state went to the wrong apartment building. Seeing what she assumed was her brother she just let herself in not even trying the key. So now Jason had a kid in his safe house, who didn't have a key or set off any of the alarms, who looked like hell, now passed out on his couch.

#dc x dp #the robins #batman #danny phantom #dcu #jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson #red hood #danielle fenton

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eufezco · 1 year ago

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THREE LIES AT ONCE

FINNICK ODAIR X FEM!STYLIST!READER

this is based on a prompt from character.ai c:

SYNOPSIS -> You're his stylist and you discover bruises.

You liked it when Finnick visited the Capitol and Finnick hated doing it except for the fact that he knew you would be there.

You had already earned a reputation as a stylist in the Capitol when you two met. And it had been four years since Finnick won his games but President Snow had kept him close because nothing was more appealing than a charming boy in his twenties to the people of the Capitol.

You learned from the best. Cinna taught you everything he knew about fashion and then made you forget about it all so you could build your own style. It actually worked quite well because your designs were sold in the Capitol as if people needed them to live.

Your colors and characteristic shapes, your outrageous skirts, your long dresses, and your headdresses were worn by everyone, men and women fought over your designs and they spent all their savings on your clothes. President Snow was more than delighted with you, not only because his granddaughter deeply admired you but because you knew how to be liked, and he loved that about you.

That's why President Snow found the perfect match with Finnick and you and for once in his life, he did something right.

Finnick became your muse. From the moment you were introduced at the Capitol and you saw him walking towards you with those bright green eyes, his perfectly messy blonde hair, his tanned skin thanks to the way the sun in District 4, and his body that looked like it had been sculpted by the gods. You knew you never wanted to design anything else but for him.

―When did you arrive and how is it that you haven't come to see me earlier? ―You threw yourself into his arms, your fingers dug into his blond locks of hair. This was not the typical relationship that stylists used to have with their models but after working with him for a couple of years now, it was inevitable that some affection would grow between the two of you. Especially when, during his stays in the Capitol, you spent most of your time together. You were the only thing that kept him from going crazy.

He would sit and watch you while you sketched out his next outfit. You would share a drink and ask him questions about how his life was back in District 4. Finnick loved to talk about his home and you loved to imagine yourself there, in the places that Finnick described to you so precisely. The sea reaching your feet, the sun shining against your skin, the sound of seagulls flying across the bluest sky you had ever seen... And for some reason that you were still trying to figure out, every time you imagined yourself in one of those scenarios, he was by your side. District 4 seemed like a lovely place.

Finnick's arms wrapped around your waist while his face hid in the crook of your neck. He inhaled your familiar scent when you hugged, too sweet for the Capitol, not like the perfume people there used to keep up with their continuous call for attention.

―Yesterday but I was too tired from the trip.

That was the first lie that Finnick told you that night.

There was an expression of relief on your face with something like a small smile on your lips, grateful to see him again after such a long time and when everything in your life was chaos thanks to the preparation of the next games. Your eyes were closed, enjoying him holding you until you heard him say those words and then they opened in a combination of surprise and confusion.

―Don't think that being tired is an excuse for not coming to see me, Finnick Odair. That should always be the first thing you do as soon as you set foot here. ―You said, still thinking about why would he lie to you.

You moved apart from the hug and Finnick had a big smile on his lips that inevitably made you smile too. ―I'm sorry. ―He apologized.

―You better be. But now I need you to tell me if you like it.

You turned to grab your notebook and showed him the sketch you drew. Finnick took the notebook from your hands so he could take a better look and admire every detail.

―This is beautiful. You're an artist. I doubt there is anyone half as good as you in the whole Panem.

―Oh, there's Cinna. I haven't managed to dethrone him yet.

―Come on, you outdid Cinna a long time ago. He says so himself. The student surpassed the master, there's nothing wrong with that.

You shook your head and said nothing. Finnick rolled his eyes, he knew you didn't like hearing from him or anyone else that you were better than Cinna. Not even when Cinna himself tells you.

―Have you started sewing it yet? Can I see it?

―That's why I needed to see you. I haven't started yet because I need to measure you again. The last time you wore one of my garments it was too tight. I don't want to risk it not fitting you this time. ―You grabbed the measuring tape and pins from the table in your studio, full of fabrics and patterns for the new tributes. Cinna had given you his notebook with some beautiful sketches and had told you that he needed something similar but for the male tribute, a guy named Peeta Mellark from District 12, and you had been working day and night to meet Cinna's expectations. ―The robe is behind the dressing screen.

―Yes ma'am.

Finnick walked over without saying another word. You admired his figure as he walked away. Finnick's back was twice as wide as when you met him, his arms had grown stronger, now you could identify each of the muscles in them and his legs had also doubled in size, unfortunately, Finnick loved to wear long skirts, if it were up to you he would be showing them all the time. The features of his face had also changed, now they were more pronounced. Finnick's dimples were more visible and his jaw was so sharp you'd swear if you slid your finger along it you'd cut yourself.

―This looks great on you. I don't know why I try to design you something new every time. I should let you go around with that.

Finnick shook his head, failing in his attempt not to laugh at your stupid joke. ―You are not only the best designer but also the funniest one, huh?

You rolled your eyes. Finnick knew you didn't like it when he told you that and he did it on purpose to tease you. ―Come on, take it off.

Finnick stood before the mirror as you stood behind him. Once he slipped it off, you gasped and jumped back, horrified.

―Gosh, Finnick, what is this? ―You took a few steps backward at the sight of the bruises that trailed down his back. By their bright red color you would say were rather recent. You didn't know how to react, you were petrified staring at his back.

Finnick smiled, dismissing what you just saw with practiced charm. ―Ah, just a little souvenir. My lovers like to play rough. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.

That was the second lie Finnick told you that night.

Finnick's chest was heavy but he was trying to keep his cool. He had assumed that by the time the two of you saw each other the wounds would have healed, besides the fact that he didn't think he would have to undress in front of you.

―Your lovers? This absolute atrocity was done by one of your lovers?

―They were probably just a little too... enthusiastic. Besides, I don't have a problem with it, I like it. My skin heals fast so I'll be all good in no time.

And that was the third lie. His skin did not heal fast. You had always told him off for coming to dress rehearsals all bruised up from his training sessions and those bruises had lasted for days. These new ones were sure to stay on his skin for at least a month.

―How can some one like this?

Finnick could hear the disdain in your voice. You should be disgusted, horrified and definitely judging him, but don't worry, so was he.

―Honey, if you don't understand it's not my problem.

―No, you're right. I don't understand. I don't think you enjoyed that.

―Oh, you're gonna tell me what I can or cannot enjoy?

―Have you seen your back? Have you seen how bad this looks?

Finnick chuckled. ―I don't know why you're making such a big deal out of this. Do you need all the details? Is the life of a stylist so boring?

―Finnick, listen to me. I don't want all the details I want the truth, and now it's the perfect time to start. ―You said. You grabbed him by his shoulders and turned him around to look at you. Finnick groaned as your hands were placed on his shoulders and when he stood face to face with you, he could see how upset you were.

―I don't know what you're talking about. ―He bit the inside of his cheeks, that was just what he had been told, not to tell anyone the truth about what had happened. He saw you roll your eyes and let all the air out of your body through your mouth, annoyed.

―I know that you didn't arrive yesterday. Cinna told me. Do you really think you can go unnoticed? Here? And I know for a fact that those bruises are not from one of your lovers, let alone that they were done to you a couple of days ago.

Finnick swallowed, looking at you with his head held high. He tried to keep the smile on his lips, pretending that everything was okay, that he did enjoy it when those bruises were inflicted on him, but his lower lip betrayed him and began to tremble. You bent down to pick up the robe and carefully threw it over his shoulders so he wouldn't feel so exposed. Finnick's head was bowed. You lifted it using your thumb and index finger on his chin very gently.

―I need you to tell me who did this to you. I can't help you if you don't tell me.

Finnick chuckled amid the sadness and shame he was feeling. ―Help me? You can't help me.

―I'm sure there's something I can do. I could―.

―They were Peacekeepers following Snow's orders.

Your jaw dropped and your heart rate accelerated. It was the first time that Finnick was admitting that to someone. It had been impossible to tell anyone, let alone a citizen of the Capitol like you. Finnick couldn't possibly admit that without compromising his carefully cultivated image. Besides, if he made himself out to be a victim, the Capitol would never allow someone they saw as weak to perform the role of the Golden Boy and all the people he cared about in District 4 would die. At that moment you realized that all the times he showed up at your studio claiming that his injuries were from training were not true and you felt sick to your stomach.

―How did it happen? ―You asked, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat

―I tried to leave the Capitol. Before I could get on the train back to District 4 I was arrested by Peacekeepers and they took me to Snow's mansion. A lot of people came and when I refused to see them... I've been locked up there since then, that's why I couldn't come to see you earlier.

You shook your head, feeling awful. ―Don't worry about it, Finnick. I'm so sorry this is happening to you. ―Your stomach complained and begged your brain to stop imagining everything that Finnick would have been put through since then. The beatings, the strangers paying to sneak into his bed, the Peacekeepers bursting into his room and leaving him bleeding on the floor...

―Snow likes me. There has to be something I can do for you.

―You don't understand. It's not something that I can quit.

―I can spend all day designing and sewing to pay Snow the money he would make with you. I can talk to Cinna to raise the price of our designs. People here are rotten with money, they'll keep buying them anyway.

―It's not that simple. You can't just buy my freedom.

―Has anyone tried before?

Finnick thought about it and shook his head. ―Snow wouldn't allow that to happen. ―You ran your hand over your face in despair, not knowing what else to do to help him and feeling a responsibility to do something about it. You were the citizen of the Capitol, the one who had superior status and the favor of Snow, there must be something you could do.

―What if I buy you?

Finnick's eyes widened in surprise. ―Buy me?

You nodded and realized how bad that sounded. ―But not in like, a slave type of way. Gosh that sounded awful. I would just― Do it so you can live your life in your district. I wouldn't― keep you here, no. You'd just have to come to the Capitol a couple of times, make a few public appearances, and leave again.

―Why would you do that for me?

You bit the inside of your cheeks and nodded. ―You're my friend. I care about you.

You had managed to give him something he had long been missing. Hope. Maybe what you wanted to do would work or maybe not but at that moment Finnick felt that someone cared and that gave him hope that everything would work out.

Finnick took a step forward and placed his hands on your cheeks. He leaned in slightly and connected his lips with yours. Your hands ended up resting against his warm bare chest, closing your eyes and allowing him to kiss you. You knew it was the emotion of the moment, the adrenaline rush of knowing that maybe he could live his life in peace. You had given him hope and he was happy that someone had shed some light on his situation.

When you parted ways after the kiss, you both were smiling.

―Go and put your pants on, I'll treat your bruises.

―Do you know how?

―Well, not really, but I'm not short of needle and thread and I still have some alcohol from last night.

Finnick pressed his lips together and nodded. That would work. He walked to the dressing screen and you watched him as he walked away in the mirror's reflection. Before hiding behind the dressing screen, he said something that lit up a flame in your heart and made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

―I wish you would come with me to District 4.

my requests for the hunger games are open 📥

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ckret2 · 5 months ago

Text

Chapter 71 of human Bill Cipher trying to debate his way out of still being the Mystery Shack's prisoner. Soos has found the stolen Journal 4 in Bill's possession and has to decide what to do about it in light of everything else he's learned about Bill lately.

[*this chapter was renumbered to squeeze in the Axolotl plot arc! If you. Haven't read it yet, go back to ch 61 and read it!]

Soos stared dumbfounded at the journal with a 4 on the cover that he'd pulled from Bill's hiding place. Ford had lost Journal 4 last fall—he'd said gnomes had stolen it. How in the world had Bill gotten it?

Soos sat in the attic window seat and flipped through it. The first few pages were Ford's journal entries—his observations of the dimensional rips they were glueing shut in Gravity Falls post-Weirdmageddon, a hand-drawn map highlighting various places around the globe he wanted to investigate, a few drawings and observations of paranormal beings he hadn't seen his first time in town, half a sketch of a gnome that ended with a jagged scribble across the page followed by a page that said "Shmebulock" over and over.

And then a page that said, in an unfamiliar handwriting of jagged, narrow gray letters: "CURSED BOOK! If your name is Mabon Mason Pines, STOP READING NOW or ENJOY YOUR HEX!"

Bill had written page after page of some weird code of gray and yellow-green dots and dashes. A few sentences in English—every one of them was a threatening message to Ford. "Everything would have been fantastic if you'd just helped me finish, Fordsy." "You'll regret not siding with me when you had the chance." "You should have known better than to let your idiot brother turn you against me." "Sixer, you're lying to yourself every time you say you never worshiped me, and you know it. You spent the first third of your life running away from the god you were raised with and the second third chasing after me. Don't waste your last third denying it. YOU'RE MINE." A small, worrying diagram of what looked like the interdimensional portal. And a sticker.

Wait, hold on.

A sticker. One of Mabel's. The rest of the page was the same as the others, the two-tone dots and dashes, except for the sticker, and an arrow drawn from one paragraph to the sticker.

A yellow smiley, its round edges filled in with black marker to make a triangle, over the words "Good job!"

Soos stared at the sticker.

####

A couple of weeks ago, Melody had texted to let Soos know that there was a mess in the upstairs bathroom, and the kids said they'd been fighting a werewolf ghost.

When Soos had gotten home the next morning, Melody had pulled him aside and quietly told him she hadn't wanted to worry him and the Stans, but she did not think it was a werewolf ghost.

When Soos saw the bathroom, he didn't think it was a werewolf ghost either.

It was a scene from a horror movie. Menacing magical sigils painted all over the walls in blood and toothpaste, Bill's zodiac painted on one mirror, the other mirror broken, glass and water all over the floor. It looked like the site of a really wet demon summoning. This contained none of the hallmarks of ghostly or werewolfish activity. Why would Bill do this?

Soos was kind of reluctant to ask Bill. Bill still sorta scared him sometimes. Sure, he looked like a lost 18-year-old, but Soos knew what teens were like in a fight. So he asked Mabel instead.

Mabel pursed her lips uncomfortably. "Ask Dipper."

So Soos asked Dipper.

Dipper winced and. "Promise you won't get mad."

Soos considered that. "Yeah, I guess that's a fair deal."

Dipper confessed that Bill got accidentally locked in the upstairs bathroom for like a whole day, because he and Mabel didn't hear him yelling. Not because they were out of the house when they shouldn't have been. They were just... somewhere else in the house. Doing something loud. For the whole day.

While Bill was trapped alone.

####

Soos had vented to Abuelita about cleaning the bathroom. Like sure, he got Bill was annoyed about being stuck, but that seemed excessive.

Abuelita had made the observation that sometimes people in profoundly bleak and oppressive situations would just... destroy whatever was around them. Like punching a hole in the wall or snapping a pencil when you were angry, but much more so. Not because they wanted their surroundings to be destroyed, but because that was the last and only thing they had power over, and they needed to feel like they were in control of something. Even if that thing was merely changing their environment from ordered to chaotic.

Bill didn't have control over very much. He probably hadn't since he died. Soos didn't know what kind of space triangle afterlife Bill had been in before he showed up as Toga Lady, but it couldn't have been great if he'd come straight back here.

Soos could remember the one time weeks ago he'd let Bill into the bathroom to shower and forgotten to come back and let him out. How Bill had screamed so all the Mystery Shack's tourists could hear; how he'd seethed in Soos's face, how he'd said he'd rather blow their collective cover and throw them all on the mercy of the town's law enforcement than remain locked in the bathroom a second longer than they'd agreed upon. Soos had thought Bill was just impatient and hotheaded.

Standing in the bathroom, looking at the material evidence of Bill's claustrophobic terror—the broken glass, the spilled blood—he wondered.

####

The same day, he had felt a breeze in the gift shop and found the trap doors to the roof left open. He'd climbed up, shut them, and in between tours he'd visited his office to check yesterday's security tapes.

He saw Wendy coming into the shack to hang out the morning before. That was fine. Soos had discovered she did that from time to time on days the shack was closed, but she wasn't doing anything bad and she hadn't brought it up yet, so Soos didn't bring it up either. Maybe she just needed a private place to hang. Teen stuff. He was just glad Wendy felt that safe at the Mystery Shack. Maybe she'd just gone up to hang out on the roof and forgot to shut the trap doors...

And then, right there on screen, Soos saw Bill letting himself into the gift shop, through the door, which he shouldn't be able to open. A chill shot up Soos's back. The door curse was their only real means of containing Bill. If he could use doors now, he was out, there was no way they could trap him without doing something crazy like locking him in the bunker and hoping he didn't kill himself.

Or could he use doors? Soos thought back to the frantic messages on the bathroom wall, written in Bill's own blood—his desperation over being unable to escape. Maybe he could use doors but not doorknobs. That was okay, maybe?

On tape, he saw Wendy run into Bill. He saw Wendy take Bill onto the roof. Out in the open air, where he could just... do whatever. But he didn't do whatever. Soos fast-forwarded the tape until Wendy and Bill came back down, and Bill simply returned to the living room.

He'd had the perfect opportunity to shove Wendy off the roof or escape. He didn't take it.

If all Bill was using his new door skills for was ducking into the gift shop and hanging out on the roof with Wendy, Soos thought maybe it would be kinda mean to take that away from him. There weren't a lot of other places Bill could go in the shack. (Soos kept seeing the blood on the bathroom wall. He kept trying to imagine what kind of helplessness would drive someone that far.) Maybe Bill needed the open air.

So Soos had put the security tape on his desk, not sure what to do about it.

####

A couple of day after that, while Soos was restocking the gift shop in between waves of tourists, he'd seen Wendy reading an oddly dull-looking booklet instead of one of her usual magazines. He tilted his head to glance at the cover. The Oregon state driving manual. "Aw dude, gonna get your learner's permit?"

"Think so," Wendy said. "Don't tell my dad."

Soos remembered Wendy groaning about her dad wrangling her into doing errands if she ever got her license. "Your secret is safe with me."

"Thanks."

"What made you change your mind? You were totally against getting a license a week ago."

"It's probably those stupid Gleeful Auto commercials that have been worming into my dreams." Wendy laughed. "I'm just waking up in the morning like, neeeed caaar."

"Oh yeah! Heh, funny coincidence, Melody says she had a dream like that too. Sometimes she gets these like, dreams about monsters watching her in bed? But one time, the monster was Bud Gleeful, whispering in her ear about a big car sale. She totally woke up laughing!"

"Ha! Annoying car commercials should be banned, man. Why do we need to be told multiple times a day to spend thousands of dollars?"

"You make a salient point."

They fell silent for a moment as Wendy read a couple more paragraphs. Then she said, "That, plus... I was talking to Goldie the other day."

Soos looked up from the t-shirt he'd been putting on a clothes hanger. "Oh. Yeah?"

"About where we wanna go when we get out of town."

"Huh." Very casually, Soos asked, "What did Goldie say?"

"He wants to go on some big vacation. Like a world cruise or something, I dunno."

"Huh." Soos wondered if that was true. He tried to imagine Bill Cipher as a tourist. Floating triangle in a Hawaiian shirt with a camera hanging from a strap and a fanny pack. What kind of places would he even visit? Soos bet he wanted to visit the pyramids. Heh. (Was that stereotyping? Maybe that was stereotyping.)

"And I told him I'm moving to Portland for college."

"Oh, hey, I didn't know you were thinking about college."

"I... actually, never told anybody else before," Wendy said. "I've been thinking about it for years, but part of me felt like it's just a fantasy? But Goldie said when he got out of high school, he did the same thing—moved to another town, made a new group of friends, all that. And... I don't know, actually talking to him out loud about it just... made it feel real, you know? So I thought, if I'm gonna move to Portland, I should probably start planning for it. Starting with how I'm getting there." She held up the driving manual.

Soos nodded slowly. "Huh. Yeah. That's a pretty mature way to look at it."

And that was what Bill was talking to Wendy about on the roof? Just... listening to a teen vent and helping her figure out her future?

And so, Soos took the security tape off his desk and put it in a drawer.

####

A few days later, Soos had heard the downstairs bathroom sink running for several minutes, assumed someone had forgotten to turn it off, and went to turn it off himself—and had caught Bill, in the dark, half undressed, washing himself in the sink.

After Soos had backed out and profusely apologized, he'd asked, "But—how come you're washing in the sink? I can let you in the upstairs bathroom if you need—"

"Worry about your own grooming habits and leave mine alone," Bill snapped. "As long as I don't smell, what do you humans care how I do it. Soap is soap and water is water."

It took Soos several days to realize he didn't think Bill had had a shower since he got locked in the bathroom. And nobody had noticed, because Bill made sure nobody noticed, because he'd been keeping himself clean in the bathroom he couldn't get locked in.

####

Dipper would go all summer without showering if he could get away with it; Stan showered like once a week and had constant old man smell; Abuelita also showered weekly and had a more refined old lady smell; Soos didn't know when Ford showered, but he'd never caught him doing it and Ford always smelled weirdly like burned hair. Soos showered almost daily during tourist season—that Mr. Mystery suit was hot—but outside that might go three days at a time. Mabel showered near daily.

From what Soos had observed, Bill was showering like, at least twice a week. He didn't know how often Bill cleaned himself in the sink in between.

That meant he was showering more often than two-thirds of the house.

Yet he was the only one in the house living under the threat of being thrown in the tub at 3 a.m. if someone decided he hadn't bathed enough for their tastes.

The reason Bill had refused to shower during his first week of imprisonment was so he could use the condition of his body as a bargaining chip—with no physical possessions in the world, his own body was the only bargaining chip he had—to try to buy a little more dignity. In return, his captors had taken more dignity away. They permitted Bill less autonomy over how to take care of his body than the household's children had.

Dipper had never gotten forced into a bathroom he couldn't let himself out of.

####

The day after the eclipse, Ford had pulled Soos aside and said quietly, "Soos, as soon as you have some time—could you repair the door to the kids' room? Before the end of the day? The latch has been broken since the tooth fairy's attack."

"Uh, sure, I can probably do that," Soos said. "How come?" The latch had been broken for a couple weeks, and the Pines hadn't been worried about it before.

"Right now, the door can swing freely with just a push," Ford said. "I think Bill's figured out how to use that to get in. Which is worrisome, since he shouldn't be able to use any doors..."

"O-oh." Soos thought about the swinging door into the gift shop. "Yeah, uh... sounds bad. Byyy the way—how'd you figure out he knows how to use the door?"

"Dipper says Bill somehow got in and out of the room last night," Ford said. "Mabel fell asleep in the living room and Bill carried her upstairs. I really don't like the thought of Bill being able to get his hands on the kids while they're asleep and defenseless."

Ford was mad at Bill for tucking a kid into bed? That was the big red flag? "No problem! I'll fix the door right after work."

The next time Soos visited his office, he took the security tape out of his drawer, rewound it, stuck it back into the tape recorder, and let that day's security camera footage overwrite and erase the evidence of Bill's visit to the gift shop.

####

And now, today, carrying Journal 4 in both hands, Soos trudged downstairs, trying to figure out what to do with it. He had to return it to Ford, obviously—but Bill and the Stans were already in the middle of a discussion that sounded a lot more like an argument. Flinging a stolen journal into the middle of the proceedings would just make it worse. Maybe he should wait until they were finished and everyone had cooled down a little—?

While Soos was upstairs, the discussion had apparently moved into the kitchen. He hovered awkwardly at the bottom of the stairs, watching.

"What do you mean, you need kitchen access," Stan was asking, "you already have kitchen access. It's never been off-limits! Even after you peed in the sink!"

"It's not kitchen access if I need to ask someone else for permission to eat anything but snacks."

"No one's making you ask for permission! You can take what you want!"

"Okay, fine. So what can I eat?" Bill gestures at the shelves. "Go on. List anything you can think of. Anything."

Stan grimaced, and glanced at Ford to see if he was willing to walk into the obvious trap first.

Ford looked at the nearby shelves. "Cereal."

"One point for Stanford Pines! Cereal! So am I supposed to eat dry cereal for every single meal, or—?"

"No, of course not."

"All right, then what else?"

"Brown meat," Stan said. "We've got plenty of brown meat. It's good for you!"

"You didn't give me can opener rights," Bill said.

"Huh."

"So no brown meat," Bill said. "No canned soup, no canned chili, no canned fruit, no canned vegetables—"

Ford cut in, "Some of the cans have pull tabs, you don't need a can opener for those."

"Terrific observation! As soon as you realized I could open those cans myself, you moved them all under the counter because you thought I'd use the sharp edges as weapons!"

"It's... possible to open cans without a can opener, I did it sometimes while roughing it in other dimensions—"

"Yeah, wearing off the metal rim with a rock, right? Lemme just go outside and grab a rock—oh wait." Bill crossed his arms.

Ford sighed, and turned to Stan to suggest something else.

Stan surveyed the available supplies, spotted the bread, and said, "You could make sandwiches!"

"With what filling?"

"Uh..." Stan kept looking.

Meats and cheeses, of course, were kept in the fridge. Along with jelly, condiments, most vegetables... tuna or spam weren't options, they were canned... "Hey, we leave out some meats that don't need refrigeration. Sausages and stuff."

"Right, right. The ones that don't need refrigeration because they're wrapped in plastic you need a knife to cut," Bill said. "Sometimes I bite the plastic open with my teeth and rip off chunks of sausage with my fingernails, that's always fun! Then you put the leftovers in the fridge, and I'm out of luck until we buy another sausage."

"You could put... peanut butter on your sandwiches?" Ford tried. "Peanut butter's nutritious."

Bill fixed him with a hard look. "For the past five weeks, every time I've gotten a meal without asking someone else to help feed me like a baby, I've had nothing but peanut butter and banana sandwiches, peanut butter and jerky sandwiches, peanut butter and raisin sandwiches, and peanut butter and potato chip sandwiches. And we're out of bananas, jerky, and raisins." He pointed at the tortillas. "Once I decided to get creative and made myself a cold peanut butter quesadilla! I can't even add spices, because guess where the breakable glass spice jars are kept?"

"Pasta," Ford tried. "We could keep the pasta out."

"Oh, wow, that'd be great! I just love pasta! But I can't open the microwave and I can't turn on the stove! How do I heat the water, Stanford?"

Ford frowned. "Hm."

"I can cook, you know—not that any of you bothered to ask! It might not suit your tastes, but it suits mine! I wouldn't need your help to eat if you didn't make me need help! I am sick to death—" his voice went thick and took on an uncharacteristic waver, "—of having to beg to... eat." He cleared his throat, squeezed his eyes shut, and rubbed his eyelids with one hand. "Sh-shouldn't even—need to eat." He clenched his jaw to keep it from trembling.

Stan and Ford exchanged a guilty look. Stan said, "You don't have to beg— I mean, we know the, uh... position you're in..."

Bill was silent for a moment as he tried to get a tough face back on. His voice came out as a rough whisper—too thick to get any louder without breaking. "I had to negotiate to get burnt eggs."

Ford winced.

Soos was dumbfounded.

When had Bill had to negotiate for food? He could all too easily understand how it might have happened—Bill was an annoying guy, sometimes they had to pull out dumb bargains to get him to do stuff. But bargaining for food should never be on that list. Meeting Bill's basic nutritional needs couldn't be dependent on whether he was annoying that day. If it was, he'd starve.

It sounded like he was starving. Right under Soos's roof. He hadn't even noticed.

He thought about the piles of junk food trash upstairs and the bag of chips Bill had hurled across the room.

Ford said, "We'll... discuss it."

"We'll figure something out," Stan said. "I mean it."

Bill nodded silently. Head down, without uncovering his eyes, he hurried out of the kitchen and toward the stairs.

He nearly bumped into Soos's chest without noticing him. Soos backed up a step, tucking Journal 4 under his arm. "Whoa, hey!"

Bill froze, head jerking up. "You." His voice was thick and his glare was watery and poisonous. "Don't you have anything better to do than eavesdrop?" He tried to elbow past Soos, smacking his leg with his umbrella. "Move."

Soos realized uneasily that Bill's face looked a little slimmer than it had when he'd arrived.

He stepped in Bill's way. "Can't go upstairs right now. Attic's being cleaned."

"I didn't ask you to clean!"

"I'm not cleaning for you, dawg. It's just gotta be cleaned."

"Fine! Whatever!" Bill veered around the staircase and stomped down the hall, muttering, "Can't decide when I eat, can't decide when I shower, why should I get to choose when my hovel's swept..."

Soos's leg hurt where Bill had smacked it. (Bill couldn't even control whether or not he cried; all he had control over was making someone else hurt.)

In the kitchen, Stan murmured, "Didn't even realize we don't keep anything decent out on the counters. They're so crowded..."

"Chip bags take up a lot of space." Ford sighed. "I assumed he'd get a serving with everyone else whenever Mrs. Ramirez cooks."

"He does, but she only does dinners. And he'll only eat it if he watched her cook it. I've seen him get lunch with Mabel, but I don't know what he does when she's not..." Stan spotted Soos on the stairs. He tiredly called, "Soos? You need something?"

"Uhhh..." Soos hid the journal behind his back. "Nope! I just thought I'd come downstairs! For no reason." He awkwardly walked up the stairs backwards, journal still tucked behind him. "And—and now I'm going up again." He stopped at the landing and scooted sideways up the next flight of stairs. "See ya."

He pressed the journal to his chest and returned to the attic.

####

When Soos and Abuelita moved into the shack, the first thing Soos had done was turn Ford's ground-floor study into a bedroom for Abuelita. Because she was a little old lady, and not quite as steady as she used to be, so Soos didn't want her constantly going up and down the stairs—because falling once, just ONCE, could send her to the hospital or worse. That was how serious it was! You don't mess around with that!

Bill tripped and fell on the stairs so often that they could use it to tell when he was awake. And nobody had thought to offer him a cane? Did anybody even ask if he was alright?

When Bill first arrived and tried to murder everyone, naturally, he came out of it pretty banged up and bruised. That was to be expected. It was self-defense. They'd gotten used to seeing Bill with scrapes on his arms and legs, rope burns around his ankles, and the angry purple-black bruises of chain links over his arms. But in all the weeks since then, Soos hadn't seen Bill bruise-free once. Bruises on his shins and arms, scrapes on his elbows and knees. Soos had seen him with a four-inch burn on his forearm. Bill had brushed it off.

In Bill's first few days in the shack, he'd resorted to peeing in the kitchen sink because nobody had bothered to give a guy who couldn't open doors a way to use the bathroom. And they were the reason he couldn't open doors in the first place!

He threw up in the living room in the middle of the night and went upstairs to sleep on couch cushions on the floor and nobody had talked about it.

He burned off all his hair and was so upset about it that he stole Soos's zodiac blanket and hid under it for half a week, and everyone but Mabel just ignored him.

In less than a month in the Mystery Shack, Bill had lost a tooth.

He had been dragged out of the house during a weird weather phenomenon while terrified out of his mind. Soos had seen Bill cowering on the ground in fear, Ford looming over him, grabbing him by the collar and snarling in rage. Bill had been pleading with everyone in hearing range not to make him go, and had come back in such a state of shock he could hardly walk.

And yet, he'd protected the whole town from getting hurt in zero gravity—and he'd brought a pet for Soos.

They'd tried to execute Bill two days later.

####

Soos sat in the window seat, flipping through the remaining filled-in pages in Journal 4. The last few pages were packed with stickers. A cat that said PURRFECT! A smiling fish that said A REEL PAL! Bill had started a little collection of pizza slice stickers for some reason. A couple of holographic rainbows, a smiling scratch-and-sniff sun. (Apparently, the sun smelled like lemons and oranges. Astronomy facts!)

Soos reached the current page. Bill was using several pieces of paper—regular printer paper and notebook paper, folded in half—like a bookmark. Soos unfolded them. A list of animals ranked by fuzziness. (Soos was satisfied that he'd been placed under the "smooth and squishy" category, but wondered whether he should be bothered by the fact that he shared the category with pigs and slugs.) A drawing of Bill riding a looping rocket ship and waving a fishbowl helmet above him. A drawing of a blue house with a couple of kids and a pig in the window. Several drawings of shape people kinda like Bill: a pink heart person labeled "Me in Flatworld," a stern-looking red stop sign wearing sunglasses labeled "Bill's parole officer," Bill dancing, the pink heart protecting Bill from some villainous-looking shapes—all clearly Mabel's art.

Several notebook pages in someone else's handwriting detailing names, addresses, and contact information, with statements Soos couldn't make sense of—as if maybe someone had been asking somebody else questions and writing down their answers. He thought the questions might be about how some people had reacted to the end of Weirdmageddon. He got the impression the people being discussed had known that Weirdmageddon was coming. He got the impression they were disappointed it hadn't happened. There were several questions at the end: How will we rendes-vouz? (Whoever was writing didn't know how to spell rendezvous, but to be fair Soos wasn't 100% sure either.) What supplies do you need? What are your interim orders?

Soos stared at the notebook papers.

He flipped back through the journal again, looking at each page more closely.

Sometimes the two-tone dot-and-dash segments had a stray human word: a few characters he recognized from his Teach Yourself Japanese workbooks, sometimes words Soos thought might be Arabic but honestly he didn't have a clue. At one point he listed half a dozen human names that Soos didn't recognize. The most common character was a stretched-out letter M (Mabel?), followed by a 6 knocked on its side (Sixer?).

The dot-and-dash segments had occasional amateurish illustrations. Sometimes they were human stick figures; sometimes the stick figures' heads had symbols off of Bill's zodiac wheel. He saw Stan's fish symbol, Gideon's star symbol, and Mabel's shooting star symbol. Ford's stick figures were the only ones with hands; Bill consistently gave them six fingers. The doodles were like particularly esoteric cave drawings; they were so bad that Soos couldn't tell what most of them were supposed to illustrate.

Except for one featuring Bill (as a triangle) and Mabel and some other inscrutable figures in a really awesome car with flames on the side, its coolness limited only by the fact that it was all in gray and yellow-green crayon. When Soos had been in high school, there had always been a couple of kids who didn't know how to draw anything except expensive cars or name-brand sports shoes, but they drew them in extreme realistic detail. Apparently, Bill was that kind of artist. Nothing but stick figures and the sickest crayon car Soos had ever seen.

It didn't do anything to dispel Soos's impression of Bill as a lost alien 18-year-old.

On one page, in sloppy lines of handwriting that meandered drunkenly up and down the paper, Bill had written, "I don't get why you won't give me a second shot. I asked you to join my gang. I serenaded you in a pyramid. I got a fantastic makeover. I offered you godhood. I showed you my dimension. I didn't torture you until I had to. I even made you a skin couch! I know how much you've always wanted a leather furniture set! I've given you everything from chicken zombification magic to jelly beans, what does it take? What am I missing?"

Soos reread Bill's other messages to Ford. All that "you'll regret not siding with me" junk wasn't threats. It was the impotent rage of a socially inept teenager who didn't understand his own creepiness had driven his friends away. It was the whiny moan of some guy going "Why doesn't she like me anymore" about an ex-girlfriend who had told him five times she didn't like him anymore because he didn't listen to her. Like that guy Wendy dated last summer. So like, a jerk, but not a terrifying world-ending monster jerk, just an annoying creep jerk. A regular jerk. A human jerk.

Soos stood, gave one last look at this journal—clearly stolen, definitely a violation of Bill's "no writing materials" restriction, completely stuffed full of mysterious messages to outsiders and some kind of weird alien code that could say anything at all and might have been super dangerous—and he slid it back into the ripped seam in the attic seat cushion where he'd found it.

He finished vacuuming up the potato chips Bill had flung across the room, thinking about how offended Bill had been that Soos had given him any food except what he'd asked for, remembering what Abuelita had said about people who destroy the things around them when they feel like that's the last and only thing they still have power over.

Enough was enough.

####

(Hope y'all enjoyed! Next week we may interrupt our regularly-scheduled programming to post a TBOB-based chapter I'm inserting early into the fic—it depends on if I get it done by next Friday. In the meantime, I'm looking forward to hearing y'all's thoughts on this chapter!)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #soos ramirez #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher #(Dec 12 edit: chapter has been renumbered)

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