#though i swear that this time i'm normal about it
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"I'm the least-witch witch ever," Marinette groaned, burying her head in her arms on the table. A book titled History of Witch Fashion, thick but shockingly lacking in substance, laid open in front of her, turned all the way to the last page.
She understood it to some degree. Witches of the past had little need to change the way they looked due to their circumstances, as they tended to live far out in the woods where no one would see them anyway. It was a "waste" to worry about updating their look, and wearing all black tended to make camouflaging spells go more smoothly if they needed to go anywhere potentially dangerous at night.
Even in the modern day, there remained reasons to stick to tradition, such as to ensure that people knew what they were. Anyone who looked like a "genuine witch" was someone people could trust for potions or spells once magic became more socially acceptable.
But Marinette's problem was simple: she hated it. She couldn't pull off the all black look and found the generic pointy witch hats to, quite bluntly, look like traffic cones that just came back from a funeral.
"I don't even have a black cat!" she cried out in distress.
"Mrrah?"
She pushed herself up, turning to the white short-haired cat sitting nearby. "It's not your fault, Clawton! You're perfect just the way you are!"
The cat puffed out its chest with pride, a tiny gentlecat without a tuxedo.
Marinette smiled, feeling a little cheered up by it, but faltered when she looked at the book again. Centuries of witch fashion laid before her, yet there were only tiny, insignificant changes made over time. Even seasonal changes recommended temperature-related spells to show off instead of dressing for the weather like a normal person.
"It's fine!" she told herself, hitting the table with both hands. A surge of magic caused the book to float upwards, and Marinette ordered it into the garbage, deciding, "I'll just... have to take the witch fashion world by storm, all by myself!"
Clawton let out a concerned mew, but didn't protest.
—————
Step one of Marinette's lack of a plan was finding inspiration, and there were few better ways of doing that than walking around the town and taking in the sights. Clawton walked next to her, tiny pawsteps sounding beside her own footsteps as she scribbled anything that gave even remotely "witch-y" vibes. It was like making a mood board.
Nothing solid was forming in her head thus far, but it was better than nothing. While it wasn't likely to happen, she did hope for that special spark, that magical thing that'd make her go—
"Mrreow!"
Marinette stopped, surprised to hear her cat speak up when it was usually so quiet in public. Looking down, she called out worriedly, "Clawton?"
It didn't even glance at her, taking off like a shot down the street. She gasped, shocked but reacting quickly enough to chase after it.
"Hey, come back! Where are you going?"
She only hoped that her mood as of late hadn't been affecting it. Cats were sensitive to magical and emotional fluctuations in witches, making them solid pets but ones that could also take on or share a witch's stress if they chose to.
If that did end up being the case, she probably owed it a few treats.
Clawton turned on a dime to dart around a corner, Marinette not far behind. She heard someone yelp and fall over just as she turned that same corner, though slightly clumsier than her cat had been.
Sitting on the ground was a teenage boy, probably around her age, though she focused on little else when she saw Clawton purring in his lap. Horrified, she hurried to the two, plucking her cat from him and settling it in her arms.
She rambled off, "I'm so sorry! It's not usually like that, but now it knocked you over and—did it rip your clothes?! I swear I'll sew them up—I'll make it better even, I—!"
"They didn't scratch me."
Marinette paused mid-sentence, somehow managing to hear his soft voice over her panicking, and blinked at him. Taking in what she had assumed were "cat scratches," she realized that they were actually purposeful rips in the clothes. Even the knees of his pants had similar ones when she actually looked, and they more obviously weren't caused by a cat.
As the boy stood back up, entirely calm despite what had happened, Clawton hopped down from her arms to do figure eights around his legs. Marinette was still busy taking in his fashion, eyes scanning him up and down to fully capture it.
His pants and shoes were notably black, but not too much even with his black hair. He kept it interesting with the white and shades of blue he wore on his upper body, in addition to the blue highlights in his hair that were either natural or dyed. The rips she'd mistaken for cat scratches did still give off the same energy in a way, and if they were in another place, then maybe—
Marinette's eyes widened. Without another thought, she stepped forward, taking the boy's hands and clasping them together in her own. Looking him right in the eyes, she asked spontaneously, "Will you be my muse?!"
He blinked.
—————
The embarrassment took a few seconds to strike, after which came a slew of apologies and a promise to make up for the onslaught from both her and her cat. He insisted it was fine, but she insisted right back.
They eventually ended up sitting on a bench together at a public flower garden, complete with iced tea that Marinette had bought for them. Apparently, the boy often went there himself for his own inspiration - just as a musician rather than a fashion designer - so he smelled strongly of flowers that her cat adored, which explained why it had jumped him.
While Clawton rolled around and stretched amongst some thyme, the boy took a sip of his iced tea and wondered aloud, "So, changing witch fashion all on your own, huh?"
She whined, wishing she could hide behind her own cup. "I know. It sounds insane."
"No, I like the sound of that." He turned to her with a gentle smile. "I'm Luka, by the way."
She shot him a skeptical look. "Marinette. Are we exchanging names because you want a restraining order?"
He chuckled, shaking his head. "You're fine. Honestly, I want to help you if I can."
"Really?" She paused. "Clawton didn't hit your head, did he? I know I said when we were getting drinks that you'd get benefits if this took off, but..."
He leaned back against the bench and swung an arm over the top of it, shrugging with the arm holding his cup. "I think if anyone can do it, it's you. You have incredible energy, Marinette." He grinned. "Enough to ask a stranger to be your muse."
He somehow felt positive enough about the experience to joke about it. Marinette knew then that either she had overreacted, she had struck diamond in finding this boy, or both. Either way, giving him up would be the most foolish thing she could do.
It helped that he, now that she was truly looking at him and not just his clothes, was exactly her type. He dressed in a style that was clearly his own and carried himself as such, confident and comfortable in the clothes he wore without coming off arrogant. Better yet was that he still had cat fur on his pants from when Clawton had rubbed itself on him, yet he seemed totally unbothered.
Gods and goddesses above, he was perfect.
Of course, if he was going to be her muse for such an important task, then it would have to be strictly professional, so she tried not to think about it too hard. She'd been told before that she could be a bit much, so she would have to be all business about this.
"Can I add a condition?" Luka asked suddenly.
"Huh? Yeah—er, yes." She tried to say it formally, straightening her back in perfect posture even if the colorful cup of iced tea kind of ruined it. "What is it?"
The corner of his lips twitched into a brief smirk at the action, but he carried on, "Can you be my muse too?"
"Ah?" Her shoulders slumped, already ruining the poise she'd been trying to maintain. "Me? You mean Clawton?"
"You," he insisted. "I like your cat too, but I think you're interesting, Marinette. If we're going to get to know each other, shouldn't we do it the best way creative people like us do?"
The logic was hard to argue with, especially with the slew of emotions he'd just caused her: bafflement that he'd want her of all people as a muse, shyness at the look he'd given her when he'd said it, and all of that preceding sheer joy.
"S-so you'll really do it then?" she realized, bouncing up out of her seat and facing him. "You'll be my muse?!"
He nodded, reaching a hand up to her for a handshake. "We've got a deal."
"Yes! I could just kiss you!" she blurted out. A second later, she caught herself and quickly corrected, "Ah, not really—not now—unless you—ah, thanks!"
She put her own hand out to complete the handshake, the two positively beaming, and thus began the relationship between the two teenage business partners that just happened to be each other's muse.
#queuekanette#lukaneventte: No Context November#Flower Arrangement Shipping#Pro LukaMari#Lukanette#Witch Marinette Dupain Cheng
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Also, can you pls when you have the time write something about braiding his hair? Swear I'm normal about Dan Heng IL, I just....😍😍😍😍😍
-Smooch Anon💋
The room is bathed in the soft glow of distant stars, their light filtering through the curtains and illuminating Dan Heng's silhouette. He sits in front of you, his back straight yet relaxed, long black and teal hair cascading down like a river over his shoulders. You reach out tentatively, fingers brushing the strands, feeling the subtle warmth radiating from him. He closes his eyes, leaning ever so slightly into your touch, though his expression remains as composed as ever.
"Are you sure you don’t mind?” you ask, voice a gentle murmur in the quiet.
He doesn’t turn, but you catch the slight lift at the corners of his mouth. "If I minded, I wouldn’t have let you anywhere near my hair." he replies, his tone dry but soft. There’s a faint vulnerability in his voice, a rare crack in the stoic armor he always wears.
As you begin, you gently separate his hair into sections, working with a delicate precision to respect both the silkiness of his hair and the intimacy of the moment. The sensation of your fingers threading through each lock feels like a gentle rhythm, something ancient and soothing, like waves against the shore.
“Does this remind you of anything?” you ask, curious if he’s had his hair braided in the past, perhaps in some distant memory of his life as Imbibitor Lunae.
For a moment, he’s quiet. When he finally speaks, his voice is softer, his guardedness just a little less present. "There was a time… long ago. When braiding hair was a part of ceremony. But it wasn’t a memory of peace," he murmurs, a faint sadness threading through his words. “I remember… friends. Comrades. We were preparing for battle. For them, braiding meant unity, a promise to stand together…”
You’re quiet, fingers still working through his hair but gentler now, as if honoring the weight of his memories. "Maybe this can be different,” you offer, “A new memory. Just the two of us. No battles, no promises to keep. Just… here.”
The suggestion makes him go still for a moment. He’s processing, you can tell, but you don’t rush him. Instead, you weave the braid with quiet care, each motion soothing and unhurried. Your hands pause, lingering for just a moment on his shoulder. The silence between you feels thick with unspoken words, emotions caught somewhere between his past and this fragile moment.
When you finish, you let your hand linger against the nape of his neck, gently adjusting the braid. “There," you murmur, leaning forward just slightly. "I think it suits you."
Dan Heng finally turns to look at you, his vivid green eyes catching the low light, soft but intense. His expression, usually so guarded, is something else now—something open, vulnerable. You can see the barest hint of a smile, the gratitude in his gaze.
“Thank you.” he whispers, his hand moving to cover yours for a fleeting moment before he lets go.
Your wish is my command, bestie!! 🤭✨💖Also YES, YOU'RE TOTALLY NOT SANE!!!
Sorry for not posting for a long time, I was giving an exam 😭😪💔
#hsr#honkai star rail#x reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#dan heng x y/n#hsr dan heng#dan heng x you#dan heng x reader#dan heng#honkai starrail#dan heng honkai star rail#honkai star rail dan heng#il dan heng#dan heng il#dan heng imbibitor lunae#imbibitor lunae
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I have such a bad feeling that Sun's going to die on July 16th, it just has that vibe, and/or he learns Dazzle's secret and then dies
Yeah.. I think the same, dear anon..
I have a feeling that Sun will willingly die.. idk what will happen though..
#sun and moon show#sams#sams sun#sun and moon show sun#sams july 16th#laes dazzle#i know that vas won't show anyone killing themselves#but at the same time#i just find it oddly unsettling that they still make hints that characters might be suicidal#i mean i'm totally fine when story depicts dark topics#obviously when it's done right#and like i said sun doesn't have to succeed#i just can't help this strange feeling#though i swear that this time i'm normal about it#i'm doing better mentally#but i can't help but to see that things despite getting seemingly better beside the stuff with new moon#that sun isn't doing okay at all#he's depressed#and there are signs of psychotic episode being either mild or in development#and it's just#it's very worrying#sun isn't okay and it doesn't seem like he plans to tell anyone about how he's doing#the only stuff he touched upon is his trauma regarding moon#but he should also talk about his mental struggles which are consequences of said trauma (plus july 16th incident and other deaths in family#and overall deaths in general)#but it doesn't seem that anyone's is aware that sun's mental state is worsening#or i mean that no one seems to be aware that sun suffers from depressive psychosis#and has delusions centered around guilt and unworthiness#and that's why i'm worried#sorry for rambling in tags
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You REALLY need to be there to see my reaction when I saw the words void (Mournfinale) in the Heaven Area 8 announcement lmao, I was jumping around in the middle of school like a fucking toddler...
Anyways, Deicide and TEmTaTiON! Initially it's just Deicide, but then I started thinking about Temp too so here he is lmao
#I'm not good at making darker colored characters and it shows#I recolored much of Deicide after first try. Then I come back like. 2 or 3 more times just to edit around some of her details...#Temptation was way easier. Though I do struggled a bit with the specific shades#I'll refrain from talking about their lore cause I need to see what Maimai's heaven story even is about first....#ally's ocs#gijinka#original character#OC: Deicide#OC: Temptation#Also fun fact: as of Deicide. She should be the 4th void song I've made#I have 32 in total. They literally took up 1/8 of the list#I'm normal I swear
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Father Brown S5E15, The Penitent Man
#I'm fine actually. fine and normal and pausing twenty different times to take screenshots of this scene#father brown is such a live slug reaction here I burst out laughing when I realised#he's not disapproving his face is just like that I swear#though the face he makes when flambeau starts talking is pretty fun#father brown#hercule flambeau#the penitent man#again if anyone from the fandom finds this my apologies?? at least being inordinately interested in flambeau seems to be the norm#I'm ace but that man is Compelling and it is a problem#smoking cw#cigarette cw#orig#the mortifying ordeal of writing image descriptions for things you're frankly a bit weird about#''but wolves you don't have to go into detail'' shhhhhh <3#I can't promise there won't be more of this (also can't promise there will be) so filter the fandom tag if it bothers you pls
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a hard thing about having my brain is that when i am really into something, i enter a state of weird mania where my creative energy is completely crackling and tireless and single-minded, as evinced by the three fics, one vid, and one zillion posts i have inflicted upon the romangerri tumblr community since sunday D:
#though i'm also on a break from work so i can just devote myself one trillion percent to ye olde blorbos etc.#i still feel like ELECTRIC OF BRAIN about it#but i'm really trying to calm down and act normal#unfortunately i have never been able to act cool from the time i was very young and i don't think i can start now :'(#oh to be fundamentally cringe as a person!#that is the story of me#dollsome's deep thoughts#... am i the kendall roy of tumblr#am i living+ right now#one day i swear i'll have this amount of energy to devote to a book of my own instead of tv people#(i've also been idly wondering if my thyroid medication dose might just be too high lol)
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9 year-old Melanie 🤝 24 year-old Melanie
Being Mentally Unwell about the Mamma Mia soundtrack
#mel's musings#mamma mia#THE BROADWAY ONE. not the movie one (although i like a lot of those renditions too)#but yeah i was raised on that soundtrack from an extremely young age despite not being allowed to see the show/movie for years#i had a pink ipod nano in 3rd-4th grade and that shit was ALL i listened to#and because i knew almost nothing about the plot at the time#little autistic mel tried incorporating her barbie 12 dancing princesses hyperfixation into the songs. somehow#(do NOT ask me how the fuck that worked. i don't have an answer for you. ANYWAY)#i had a shirt with the words “dancing queen” on it as a little girl. that is MY song and always will be#and as an adult i've discovered the name of the game is also a me song. as well as a sylvia song#i used to skip over slipping through my fingers as a kid since it made me cry. even though i never really paid attention to the lyrics then#but NOW??? i still cry. because i think of my mom. and the fact that she's the reason i'm so attached to these songs in the first place ;_;#and i have learned absolutely nothing from when i was nine because i am STILL tying my hyperfixations to these songs#and i assure you i am normal about narumitsu singing take a chance on me. i am SO normal i swear#and while it doesn't QUITE match up with how i picture the timeline of their relationship#the idea of phoenix having a mamma mia moment when miles comes back in jfa is fucking hilarious to me#GO LISTEN TO MAMMA MIA. come be feral with me it's beautiful here#music nerd shit
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does anybody else say "hay is for horses, cows, and sheep. too bad you're a jackass" when someone yells "hey!" at them or is that another thing my dad made up
#my dad says so many things where i'm just like oh that's normal and then i grow up and lo and behold NO ONE SAYS THAT!#but also sometimes i assume he made it up and he didn't!!#i assumed he made up hitch in my giddy-up and he did not (though i still hold that he uses it nonstandardly (to mean wedgie))#i wasn't sure about 'can be. sure would!' but that seems to be a him original#he also loooooves malaphors. he likes to pair them: e.g. wake up and smell the roses/stop and smell the coffee#which is cute BUT. he thinks he made them up! like each of them individually but also the concept of malaphors (mixed idioms) 🙄#though he doesn't call them that. he calls them [his name]isms (because he thinks he made them up)#one time i was trying to figure out if a term my family uses is unique to us or not and i looked it up and got a hit on urban dictionary#so i opened it and IMMEDIATELY COULD TELL THAT HE WROTE THE ENTRY. HE PUT OUR FAMILY WORD IN URBAN DICTIONARY.#katymacky if you're reading this i am REELING over the knowledge that your dad also says jean-claude pennay!!!#WHERE ARE THEY GETTING THAT FROM??? DO THEY SUBSCRIBE TO THE SAME 'DORKY DADS OF THE PNW' MAGAZINE??????#idioms#or something idek#swears#i guess???#really struggling with how to index this lol#fun with words#my posts#oh also i almost didn't use the oxford comma for once in my life because the cadence of this has a pause after 'horses'#and then 'cows and sheep' are kind of run together#hay is for HORSES‚ COWS and SHEEP. too bad you're a JACKASS#i actually think in this case this maybe came from my stepmother? because i don't remember him saying it until after he met her#but maybe that's just because she says HEY! a lot more than other people i would have seen him around?
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must my brain sound like an edgy incel chronically online gamer that screams slurs into the mic when they lose a Fortnite match -_-
#like whenever I'm#idk ig splitting would be the right term here#every thought just becomes a violent stew of slurs and view points that I don't normally have otherwise#got nothing against fat people but if I'm splitting on one#you best believe my thoughts are gonna revolve around every generic fatphobic insult you've ever heard#even though I literally don't even agree with any of it....#goes for literally anything you can discriminate against too#honestly it feels pretty gross#and gets pretty weird when it's like... demeaning against women... when I'm also...a woman#like good job brain you insulted yourself in the process#I guess these are like intrusive thoughts in a way?#idk the racist ones in particular just feel really gross#like did I REALLY just think that? for real? girl who ARE you#I know not to take it too seriously bc 1. thought crimes aren't real and#2. if the switch hadn't flipped and I wasn't temporarily upset with that individual#I wouldn't think a single discriminatory thing about them. I wouldn't be vehemently insulting them and cussing them out with vitriol#it's just 'oh I hate you now' *cue an endless steam of random swearing and slurs and discrimination and violent feelings of hatred*#and then back to 'oh you're cool I love you again' with a 'what the actual fuck was i just thinking??'#...... I can't believe these are my moral standards of gross#like oh noes I called someone a stupid fat bitch....in my head.... that I don't even agree with 90% of the time#I never say any of this out loud at least. thank the stars I know how to hold my tongue#r.r
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I just spent 4 and a half hours on a drawing because I was like "hmm, drawing a self portrait sounds fun" and then I spent the whole time working on it going "this is absolutely beautiful but that is not my fucking face and I can't work out why it doesn't look right"
#personal#thoughts#art rambles#🍬 post#it really does look great but it's just not quite right and I can't pinpoint why#I just looked at it again after doing something else for a while and it looks better than I initially thought?#but there's something about it that's kind of giving uncanny valley vibes#then again I think that happens whenever we draw anything in enough detail and then after a while it stops looking creepy#actually maybe I do just look creepy. that's absolutely a possibility that I'm willing to accept. a man can be both creepy and hot#this would explain all the times Lucy has called me both ''creepy'' and ''hot'' in the same sentence#also I have no idea if I'll actually post the drawing when it's done#I still feel kind of weird posting drawings that are specifically meant to be me rather than my source#especially if there's no context to show that it's specifically an in-system thing#with the one drawing I have posted of me and Lucy there's context so it's more obvious#it feels like if it's indistinguishable from the drawings we'd normally do of my source is there any point specifying that it isn't that#even though I know that's not true and it's absolutely fine for me to draw myself and say ''this is me''#if I think about this stuff to hard I start to feel really weird about being a fictive again#I swear most of the other fictives we have don't feel anywhere near as weird about being fictives#I don't get why I have such a weird time with it compared to the rest of the system#(also I say all this as if I draw myself all the time. I've only ever drawn myself a couple of times but yeah idk)#(the thing of feeling weird posting stuff applies to other stuff like source memories or whatever)#(or literally anything that references any traits I might have picked up from my source)
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1850s Tumblr Dashboard Simulator
👸🏻 girlbossladyjane Follow
It really makes me sick to see people giving money to penny weeklies when Franklin's expedition STILL has not been found 😭 There are good men out there trapped in unimaginable temperatures and literally all that's needed is a little more funding for another rescue mission yet all you guys seem to care about are your vulgar little stories...
🧔🏻♂️ queerqueg Follow
the franklin expedition is dead as hell
👸🏻 girlbossladyjane Follow
Disgraceful thing to say but I'd expect nothing more from a M*lville fan
10,558 notes
👨🏻❤️💋👨🏻 hartgrindisreal
Sorry for posting so much about Tom Gradgrind/James Harthouse from Hard Times lately. It turns out that I was getting arsenic poisoning from my wallpaper? Anyway I took a seaside stroll and I'm normal now. Check your walls y'all
#whyyy did i assume they were committing unlawful actions together like where did i even get that from lol #hard times isn't even that good by dickens standards tbh
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🎨 asherbrowndurand
Just painted this
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ss-arctic-girlie-deactivated18540927
RIP Napoleon... you may have been unable to conquer Alexander's Russia but you sure as hell conquered Alexander's bed
🖼️ preraphaelitebro Follow
HERITAGE POST
📝 shakespearesforehead Follow
How does this have less than 100k notes you could literally not avoid this post back in the 20s lol
82,170 notes
🌄 loyalromantic Follow
poets just aren't dying young in mysterious water-related incidents like they used to :/
#as useless and degenerative as i find 'the living poets' and i'm glad we're finally moving on from them #i have to agree with op in this respect
6,884 notes
🎀 thefopdiaries Follow
I finally got a daguerreotype of myself ^_^ Porcelain urn for scaling
📜 bartlebi-thescrivener
i think i hauve consumption
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🐋 whaler4life
They found oil in the ground??? WTF. THIS IS LITERALLY THE WORSTTTT. FUCK MY LIFE FOR REAL THIS TIME
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🌿 naturesnaturalist Follow
I swear this website has 0 reading comprehension skills. Darwin NEVER claimed we "evolved" from apes like if one of you guys actually bothered to open his new book you'll see all his arguments are backed up by evidence. He actually makes a lot of sense
#sure there's nuance like i don't fully agree with all of it #but his general theory of natural selection seems pretty sound imo
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🤵🏻♂️ byronicherotournament Follow
🙈 butchbronte Follow
Of course these are the finalists lmao this website is so predictable. Anyway vote Heathcliff if you dont i'm going to assume you're a phrenologist
📖 sapphichelenburns Follow
It's not problematic to acknowledge the fact that Heathcliff was a brute like he literally killed dogs in case you forgot. #rochestersweep
🙈 butchbronte Follow
I love the implication here that Rochester never did anything cruel either. He literally locked his wife in the attic and lied to Jane about it 😭 like that was a pretty significant thing that happened
📖 sapphichelenburns Follow
And? God forbid women do anything
#why'd you have to pit two bad bitches against each other #anyway i'm not attracted to men but still went with rochester #bc in terms of living quarters thornfield hall > wuthering heights easily
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👨🏻❤️💋👨🏻 hartgrindisreal
Not the Russian tsar dying immediately after hartgrind became canon
#i know dickens hasn't technically confirmed it yet but like. SOMETHING was strongly implied ok #see: my previous post #dickensposting
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👨🏻❤️💋👨🏻 hartgrindisreal
LORD HELP ME. THE BODY LANGUAGE. THE WAY THEY'RE LOOKING AT EACH OTHER. AHHHHHH
#this installment!!! im-- #dickensposting #i can't fucking cope #dickens wants to KILL us he wants us DEAD....
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⭐️ newamerican
Hi guys sorry I haven't been posting lately it's been so difficult getting to California 💀 I'm finally here now though just need to find a pickaxe and soon I'll be digging! :-) wish me luck lol
#gold #gold rush #gold rush grind #california #adventure
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Goddammit I miss that cat.
#my wife's cat Prince died of cancer in March#he was so fucking ornery and particular about everything; he was named because of his regal look but he acted like a spoiled prince too#the kind of beautiful super fuzzy cat that didn't like anyone but their owner and was just plain mean to anyone but them#in a way that just tormented your soul because if you could just get that cat to somehow tolerate you.....#..... it might mean you were incredibly special#i mean i know that sounds dumb but that was the feeling. that became a minor goal in life to everyone who met him#he wasn't special otherwise by any means#she swears he was very human like but no I've raised 40+ cats in my life (17 of them live with me now)#he was a normal cat he was just very very beautiful and very spoiled and#if you spend enough time with any mammal you both learn each others patterns and that is a bonding experience for both so i get it#he got squamos cell carcinoma so far back on his tongue that they couldn't even operate on it#and like I said I've raised 40+ cats as well as dogs and birds‚ death is a part of pet ownership I've accepted that‚ I'm very okay with it#but I spent more money on three different specialists trying to treat him.....#.....than i have ever spent combined on every other cat I've owned for the last 25 years#and that's not admitting I don't take my cats to the vet#every cat I have ever owned gets neutered/spayed‚ vaccinated‚ and flea meds at the MINIMUM#it's admitting I spent more money treating him than some people spend on student loans#and i mean most of it was because as strongly as I felt for him I knew she felt a trillion times stronger#there was nothing she wouldn't have done for him#i think my heart broke the worst when we were putting him down and she sobbed 'how am i going to live without you' like i was a stranger#she would have easily plunged a knife in my gut if she was certain it would save his life#i can't fathom feeling that strongly for a pet and yet I'm quietly crying in my truck because i miss his stupid face#though now that i typed it all out maybe the truth is.................. you know what nevermind#will probably delete this tomorrow who tf knows#op#ranting
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cross that line ꕤ (l.h)
part two
pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
summary: For a long time, you were content hiding your feelings, but lately, the longing for someone you can’t have has become unbearable. Despite knowing he could never be yours, you still cherished the sweet ache in your heart whenever he smiled or gave you a warm, platonic hug. Then, one day, everything changed.
genre: fluff + angst + smut (18+ mdni)
word count: 14k (14k on the dot to be precise but yeah uhm. sorry. I swear I'm normal)
warnings/tags: friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, thunderstorms, idiots in love, mutual pining, assumed unrequited love, jealous!reader, reader is described as shorter than logan, emotional!reader, miscommunication kinda, inexperienced/virgin!reader, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, piv sex, soft!dom logan, ok… just in overall bye, logan is soft for reader, sub!reader, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, overstimulation, major size kink, praise kink, dirty talk, oral fixation. some daddy kink? breeding kink aaaaa sorry. I wrote this while ovulating. they’re both FREAKS. scent kink? lots of pet names. this is high key sweet and turns filthy. logan is worshipping his sweet girl ok! reader is a mutant. reader has hair, no further description though. this is not beta read sorry!
a/n: GUESS WHAT!!! user healmydesires is back with another self indulgent fic about a new blorbo! I’ve been having all random kinds of scenarios about logan in my head and I just didn’t know which type of story to go with. until I felt like there weren’t much of inexperienced/virgin reader fics for logan and tbh… that’s kinda my brand (I’m high key kidding but lowkey that’s what I love to write the most) if you’ve read my works so. I thought I’ll write what I WANT to read. so this is high key self indulgent. english isn’t my first language so pls bear with me <3 also ngl.. a lot of it is just smut 😭 I literally wrote this while ovulating… EDIT (19/09): I kinda edited it a bit because it had a lot of grammar mistakes and I'd often jump from present tense to past tense so ye
this goes without saying, but if you don't like it don't read it <3
AO3 • masterlist
Being roommates with your best friend had its perks. You were together almost all the time, sharing both the big and small moments. As fellow teachers, you could easily swap teaching tips, lend each other a hand with tasks, or offer guidance when you were feeling stuck. Your tall best friend effortlessly reached the top shelves, and you both enjoyed laughter-filled moments during movie marathons. Sharing responsibilities became more fun too—splitting chores like cooking and laundry felt easy and natural. Plus, there was comfort in knowing your best friend was always dependable, ready to support you whenever you needed it. And whenever you were in need of a hug, your best friend was probably already ready to envelop you in his warm embrace.
But it also had its disadvantages.
Especially considering that Logan Howlett, your best friend, was quite the menace.
Logan had always had a rugged handsomeness that effortlessly made people swoon all around him. It wasn't fair how pretty he was. He had always been lucky with finding partners—or rather, when it came to finding bed or sexual partners. He'd often bring those one-night stands or partners to your shared apartment only to have sex with them. Logan had never been the type to stick with one person, always preferring flings over long-term relationships. Or so you thought.
You, on the other hand, had always craved a long-term relationship. You dreamed of finding your true love—someone to share adventures with, to have fun with, and to dive into deep, meaningful and random conversations. You loved the idea of being with someone who let you be your true self, where you could spend hours talking about the most random things—discussing your favourite TV shows one minute, and passionately criticising capitalism and the world the next. You were all about affection, from kissing to being held, but you also longed to hold your partner close and make them feel cherished, just as much as you wanted to feel loved in return.
Unfortunately, you had never had the chance to experience anything like that.
It wasn't like you had never had the chance or had the opportunity to explore and possibly experience a potential relationship. You had just never been really interested in creating a relationship with a stranger.
Plus the thing was, your best friend wasn't just your best friend. You had been in love with Logan for god knows how long.
Charles Xavier was the one who had introduced you both, years ago. You remembered that day very vividly.
You had just arrived at the Xavier Institute, and the professor had offered you a two-sided job, to be a teacher at the school and be part of the X-Men.
You'd always done your best to keep your powers hidden, but being welcomed into a school designed for people like you—a mutant—felt incredibly liberating. That's why you hadn't hesitated when Charles Xavier invited you to his school. You'd always known you were powerful, with the ability to control and manipulate water, but you had kept your abilities a secret, not wanting to be treated any differently in a world that didn't really like or understand people like you.
As the professor took you around the grounds, you couldn't help but be impressed by how big and beautiful it all was.
You were so captivated by the mansion's grandeur and stunning architecture that you didn't even notice a guy casually leaning against the nearest wall outside of Charles's office. But the moment your eyes met his, it felt as if time itself stood still. Looking into Logan's eyes, you felt like you could drown in them. You had never seen anyone so effortlessly handsome.
Completely entranced by him, you almost forgot to introduce yourself. Your body heated up in the moment, and the professor definitely noticed. Logan Howlett gave you a knowing smirk, making the warmth inside you intensify even more.
That day you both became friends, though you still didn't quite understand why, given how different you both were. Logan was gruff and blunt, while you, though capable of being direct, tended to choose your words more carefully. He was passionate and strong-willed and opinionated, and sometimes he let that get the best of him. You were deeply in tune with your emotions, while he always seemed to hold back, keeping certain feelings tightly guarded. Logan was never one to be very straightforward with his emotions. He would rather keep most of them to himself, and didn't want to seem too vulnerable. Communication was something you valued and needed a lot, but Logan, by contrast, didn't seem to rely on it as much. You were an overthinker, always caught up in your thoughts, and he would often step in to ease those worries of yours.
You could say that opposites attract.
Over time, your friendship grew, and one day he asked if you'd like to move in with him into a new apartment near the institute. He craved a bit more peace and genuinely enjoyed your company. It seemed like a good idea, so you thought, why not?
You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with your roommate. All you knew was that one day, you were suddenly overcome by an emotion so intense, it was unlike anything you'd ever felt before. It hit you all at once. Before Logan, you'd never really had a serious crush, never experienced feelings this powerful for anyone. You often told yourself it must have started shortly after you moved in with him, but deep down, you knew that wasn't the truth. This feeling had been quietly growing from the very first moment you met him, slowly building until it became impossible to ignore.
It was funny, you thought, how life had a way of bringing you things—and people—you never realised you needed. People like Logan, who became so essential that you couldn't help but wonder how you had ever lived without them. People like Logan Howlett, who somehow managed to be both your saving grace and your greatest temptation.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
A few months into your roommate arrangement, you still couldn't get used to Logan constantly bringing one-night stands to your shared apartment. It was pure torment.
As you ate cereal at the kitchen island, one of Logan's many one-night stands quietly slipped out of the apartment. You rolled your eyes, as Logan routinely walked them through the apartment to the door, their faces often adorned with sly smiles as they fluttered their eyelashes at him. A knot of anger twisted in your belly as you watched them play with the collar of his shirt, their fingers lingering while he made no move to pull away. You'd never felt such intense rage before. He responded with a grunt as they would casually give him a goodbye kiss.
You hated experiencing feelings like these. It was a gross emotion, a heavy sensation that felt thick and tar-like, clinging to your chest and making you ache with its heavy weight.
Anxiety? Sure, you were often more anxious than most mutants, but that wasn't the feeling you had at this moment. Maybe it was jealousy? You disliked how that emotion fit so easily on your tongue, leaving a bitter taste.
Each time you witnessed these scenes unfold, jealousy and frustration would wash over you. Or how you'd feel utterly awful whenever you accidentally overheard them having sex.
As Logan reentered the apartment and closed the door behind him, you couldn't help but snort. “So, what number are we up to now?”
He stared at you for a moment, before chuckling and shaking his head with a smirk. “Not sure, lost count.” He shrugged, grabbed an apple from the fruit basket on the kitchen island, and took a bite.
“What was their name?” you asked, staring daggers at your bowl of cereal.
Logan shrugged again. “I don't know, and honestly, I don't care,” he replied curtly before walking away.
You couldn't understand how he could be so nonchalant about this situation.
It wasn't just jealousy; you longed for any kind of affection or love from Logan, more than you ever thought possible. You were grateful to be his best friend and you knew it might seem foolish to hope for a chance with him, but you couldn't help yourself. Deep down, you feared you'd always feel this lonely, believing you could never fall for anyone but him. He was everything you craved and needed in life.
You felt foolish, constantly embarrassed and rejected. More than anything, you felt hurt, knowing that you were the only one to blame. It was your own feelings that had caused all this pain.
The thought of him one day falling in love with someone else made your stomach sink, but you pushed and suppressed your sadness aside daily. It didn't really matter—Logan was free to date whoever he wanted. He was your best friend, only his best friend.
One day, you'd have to come to terms with the fact that he would always be just your best friend.
You just hoped that one day it would become easier to deal with these feelings.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
It was the middle of a cold winter night — the air cool against your skin, even with your large pink puffer jacket to keep you warm. The thick curtain of night enveloped the sky, painting it a deep midnight blue, with stars twinkling like the clearest diamonds. Despite the cool ambient air, you found yourself relaxing, your shoulders gradually easing.
“You see that there?” you pointed up at the starlit sky, leaning unconsciously into Logan's warmth as you both lay on the grass of the X-mansion grounds. “That's the Pleiades. People often mistake it for the Little Dipper, but it's just a star cluster.”
Logan hummed, but his eyes were focused on you, how you gazed up at the stars with an awestruck expression. A gentle smile tugged at his lips, as he enjoyed how you looked so endearing as you were so engrossed in the stars that you loved so dearly.
He glanced up at the part of the sky you were pointing to, located the cluster of stars you had mentioned. He studied it for a moment and thought he had seen something similar to the Pleiades before, but never illuminated in the night sky like this. Logan's gaze then returned to the earth, settling back on the grass where he lay beside you.
“Beautiful,” Logan whispered as he stared at you. “Truly beautiful.”
You were too busy gazing up at the sky to realise that he wasn't talking about the sky.
For as long as you could remember, you had loved the night sky, finding its dark embrace profoundly comforting. More than that, you adored the stars—coming out at night to bask in their radiance, with their distant coldness soothing your soul.
You had always felt so mesmerised about the universe, especially the stars and the moon. They appeared beautiful, glittering magnificently beside one another as they hovered in the upper stratosphere.
“Why did you bring me out here, Lo?” you finally asked, looking up at your best friend. You noticed him smirk down at you and saw a fleeting hint of hesitant insecurity in his green eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.
He shrugged against you, still grinning. “I know how much you enjoy stargazing, and I'm aware you've had a rough week, so I wanted to give you a chance to relax for a bit.”
You softened as you gazed up at him. Logan was right—you had been having a rough week. The children had been sweet, but the workload had been overwhelming. You couldn't help but appreciate how Logan was always looking out for you.
“Thank you…” you whispered.
“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He winked before he looked back up at the sky. “Why don't you show me another constellation?”
You giggled as you pointed out another cluster of stars, but more often than not, Logan found it hard to focus on the stars. After all, he had a bright light of his own by his side daily that captured all of his attention.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
A year had passed since you moved in with Logan, and autumn was already around the corner. The temperature was gradually dropping, and the air became crisper. The trees' leaves were starting to fade from vibrant greens to tamer shades of bronze and gold. You had always loved this time of year—it was that perfect season where you could bundle up in layers when you were outside, then retreat indoors in the evenings, getting cosy with a hot chocolate and a good book.
It was during seasons like this that you found yourself wishing you could cuddle up with someone, enjoying a movie or simply each other's company. But it wasn't just anyone you wanted by your side—it had always been Logan for you.
For the longest time, you were content in just keeping all your feelings hidden. Lately, though, the longing had been getting harder to bear. Wanting someone you knew you couldn't have was starting to feel unbearable, slowly eating away at you. And even though you knew he could never be yours, it didn't stop you from savouring the sweet ache in your heart every time he smiled or when he pulled you into a warm, platonic hug.
All the stupid fluttery feelings in your stomach every time his eyes would catch yours, or the way your heart beat fast whenever you were in close proximity to him. You knew it had been years since you'd known Logan, but you couldn't help the effect he always had on you. The way he left you yearning for more. But, of course, you tried to bury those feelings down deep, reminding yourself that Logan could never feel the same way about you as you felt about him.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
One lazy afternoon, with no classes scheduled for you to teach, you found yourself by the lake on the X-Mansion grounds, practising your water bending. The water flowed seamlessly around you as you moved your arms, bending it effortlessly to your will. As you went through each movement, you could feel a pair of eyes on you, observing every precise motion, your muscles tensing with each fluid shift. A light sheen of sweat formed on your brow, and your face held a fierce look of concentration as you focused on perfecting your stance and movements.
Several moments had passed, and the person watching you still hadn't spoken a word. By now, you were almost certain it wasn't just anyone—it had to be Logan. Anyone else would have said something by now, maybe greeted you or asked about your training. But not Logan. He had a way of lingering in silence, watching you in that quietly intense way of his, never feeling the need to fill the space with unnecessary words.
“Well, are you just going to stand there and stare, or do you plan on saying something?” you asked, a playful smile tugging at your lips.
Logan grunted, “I think I'll just keep watching. I quite like the view from here.”
A flush of warmth spread across your face, butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach at his words. You hesitated for a moment, pausing your movements before he spoke again.
“Don't stop on my account, sweetheart.”
You knew he was wearing one of his signature grins, and you so desperately wanted to wipe it off his face. As you grew more flustered, a wave of frustration built up inside you—how could this man always have such an effect on you? An idea sparked in your mind, a mischievous smirk tugging at your lips. Deciding to continue your water bending practice while he watched, you let the water flow effortlessly around you, fully aware of his eyes tracking your every move.
Once a peaceful stillness settled in the air, you saw your opening. Without warning, you spun around with swift precision, bending the water toward him and drenching him in seconds.
Logan stood there, completely perplexed as you broke into a fit of giggles. He was drenched from head to toe, and you knew it wouldn't be long before he sprang into action. Sure enough, just seconds later, he smirked again, though this time it carried a sharper edge. “You think this is funny, bub?”
“Yeah, I kinda do,” you replied between laughs, unable to contain yourself.
But then, Logan's grin turned devious, and with a determined march, he began closing the distance between you. Your eyes widened in realisation, and without thinking, you bolted away.
“You're not getting away with this, princess,” he called out, his voice low as he gave chase.
He moved swiftly through the gardens, but you were quicker, slipping just out of sight every time he got close. His eyes darted around, scanning the area, frustration slowly turning into determination. You could hear him muttering under his breath, his footsteps getting louder as he searched for you. Your heart raced as you ducked behind a tree, trying to stifle your laughter. The thrill of the chase had adrenaline coursing through your veins.
For a moment, you thought you had lost him, but then he sniffed and just as you peeked around the tree, you saw him spot you from across the grove. His eyes gleamed with mischief as a smirk curled at the corner of his lips. “I got you,” he muttered before he moved towards you with renewed speed. You tried to slip away again, but it was too late—he had you cornered.
Soon enough, two strong arms caged you in, trapping you between the tree and his chest. A startled yelp escaped your lips as you tried to back away, only to realise there was nowhere to go. “Gotcha,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, the familiar playful glint in his eyes making your heart race even faster.
You squirmed, trying to find a way out, but his grip tightened just enough to keep you in place without being overbearing. “Logan! Let me go,” you protested, laughter bubbling up in your throat despite your attempt to sound serious.
“Thought you could get away that easily, huh?” he teased, leaning in so close that you could feel his wet clothes and the warmth of his body. The heat from his proximity spread across your own, making you acutely aware of how close you were. You bit your lip, your cheeks becoming hotter as his smirk widened. The sight of your flustered expression seemed to delight him, his satisfaction evident in his playful gaze.
“Well, this is cosy,” you remarked, but your voice barely rose above a whisper. There was a tremor in your tone, one that matched the rapid beat of your heart.
“Hm, I think so too,” he responded with the same teasing tone. You gazed up at him with bright eyes as the golden hour of evening cast a warm glow around you both. It took all his willpower not to look away, not to acknowledge the tension that hung thick in the air.
You shifted against the tree, searching for a different way to elicit a reaction from him. Your touch light, almost accidental, but it sent a shockwave through him, his breath hitching in his throat. You could feel him stiffen, sensing the tension as he reacted to your contact.
He leaned in, just enough that he could feel your breath against his skin, just enough that the space between you became almost non-existent, and just enough to hear your breath hitch.
Logan closed his eyes, as he pressed his forehead against your own. Every time he tried to speak, the words got tangled up in the mess of emotions swirling inside him. All he could think about was how close you were, how your touch burned through him, how the smell of you, that unique soft scent of yours, filled his senses and made him want to lose himself in you.
“Lo—”
Before you could finish, Ororo's voice rang out, calling your name. You felt a wave of disappointment wash over you as you realised your moment with Logan was interrupted. You had forgotten about the promise to cook together with her and Jean, and your friend's timing burst the bubble of what you thought might finally be a shared moment with him.
He grunted in frustration, pulling away from you and looking off to the side. Ororo, Jean, and even Scott soon found their way to you, their presence drawing closer. As they approached, each of them wore a grin that suggested they had noticed the tension between you and Logan. The air was thick with unspoken understanding, and it was clear that your friends had picked up on the charged moment that had just been interrupted.
You cleared your throat and stepped reluctantly away from Logan, trying to regain your composure. You forced a smile as you addressed your friends, saying, “Sorry to keep you guys waiting.” You then walked away with Jean and Ororo towards the mansion, though you couldn't help glancing back over your shoulder. Each time you looked, a hint of longing appeared on your face as you cast a final, wistful glance at Logan.
As you walked away, you heard Scott remark, “You look wet.”
Logan responded with a huff, “Fuck off, Summers.”
You couldn't help but wonder what would've happened if your friends wouldn't have interrupted you.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
It had been Friday evening, and you were in your office at the institute, finishing up grading the last of the papers while waiting for Logan. The two of you had plans to head home together, but he had yet to come and find you. Growing impatient, you decided to look for him yourself. You grabbed your bag and jacket before going out of your office, closing the door silently behind you. The smell of stew wafted through the mansion as you jogged down the stairs from your office to the kitchen. You quietly approached and paused when you saw him with Jean. She was chopping vegetables, while Logan leaned against the island, holding a cup of coffee.
“I don't see why you don't just do it. Everyone can see how perfect you two are for each other,” Jean had sighed.
Your eyes widened and you bit your lip nervously as you instinctively hid behind the wall. You truly hoped Logan wouldn't smell your scent while hiding, considering his heightened sense of smell. You knew you shouldn't be eavesdropping, but your curiosity had gotten the better of you. Jean's words had left you intrigued about what they were discussing.
Logan huffed, “I've already told you—” he tried arguing, but Jean cut him off mid-sentence.
“Logan, come on,” Jean said pointedly. “You keep denying it, but everyone here has seen the two of you dance around each other for years. You can't honestly tell me that you're just friends. Friends don't act the way you two do with each other.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” Logan asked, tilting his head to the side. Your stomach churned as you realised they were talking about the two of you. Silently, you pressed your back against the wall and shuffled further behind it, continuing to listen.
“It means that friends don't stare at each other longingly, or they don't flirt with each other, and they certainly don't cuddle together while sharing the same bed,” Jean said, emphasising her point as Logan began to argue. “Besides,” she continued, “you've known her for a while now. There's no one you've been more comfortable with than her. We all know you'll look after each other and be happy together. So why haven't you done anything about it? All we want is for you both to be happy,” Jean concluded.
You bit your lip at her words, feeling a mix of hope and nervousness churn in your stomach. With trembling fingers, you held your breath, waiting for Logan's response. When you heard him sigh, you felt your world begin to crumble around you.
“Yeah, but Jean, it's not like that. We are not like that. We're just friends,” Logan had replied. You had pressed your teeth harshly into your lip, biting down so hard you feared you might draw blood. It was the only thing keeping you from sobbing out loud. Logan's words replayed over and over in your mind. While you had always known he felt that way, hearing it confirmed so casually had left your heart breaking.
Not wanting to listen any longer, you silently turned and hurried toward the main entrance, trying to be as quiet as possible. Once outside, tears flooded your vision as you ran to the mansion gates, searching through your bag for your phone to call a cab. Since you hadn't brought your car and had driven in with Logan that morning, calling a cab was your only option.
When the cab finally arrived, you slid into the backseat and gave the driver your instructions. As he drove you home, you took a deep breath, struggling to swallow the lump in your throat. Your breath came in labored gasps as you fought to keep from breaking down in tears. Your mind was running a mile a minute as you tried to process his words. Silently you let the tears flow down your cheeks.
When you arrived at your building, you paid the cab and noticed your phone buzzing incessantly. You quickly silenced it as you entered your apartment, not bothering to look at who was trying to contact you.
Once you entered your bedroom, you broke down just then as you let out a choked sob while stripping off your clothes. With great effort, you managed to put on your pyjamas before climbing into bed. Soon, you would let your destructive thoughts take over. Deep down, you knew you shouldn't have eavesdropped on their conversation and jumped to conclusions, especially since Logan wasn't done speaking with Jean. But you couldn't bear to stay and listen any longer. You felt too vulnerable as you let his words echo inside your head.
You had been ignoring all the texts from your friends and the calls from Logan specifically, too drained to even hold a conversation.
Eventually, you felt sleep overtaking you, utterly exhausted from a long workweek and an emotionally draining evening.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
That same night, you had jolted awake to the sound of a loud rumble. Outside, storm clouds loomed ominously over the city, with thunder crackling through them every few minutes. The storm had been raging outside your apartment, with thunder booming so fiercely it shook the windows. Curled up in your bed, you had whimpered softly, clutching a thick blanket tightly around you—not just for warmth, but for comfort and a sense of protection.
You had never liked thunderstorms, and by now, you must have tried a thousand different ways to distract yourself from them. You'd put on headphones to drown out the noise, but the knowledge of the storm outside still fed your anxiety. Thunderstorms always had a way of making you feel small and utterly helpless.
You felt a tightness building in your chest as you trembled beneath the sheets. Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to steady your breathing and calm yourself down. In moments like these, you felt truly helpless. You knew you shouldn't feel ashamed for being this terrified, but you couldn't help it.
You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on the song playing through your headphones, desperate to drown out the storm. Moments later, you felt the bed dip. Slowly, you opened your eyes and found Logan sitting at the end of your bed, his soft gaze fixed on you with a look of quiet concern. A wave of relief washed over you just at the sight of him. Part of you wanted to ignore him and continue being upset with everything that had happened earlier that evening, but you couldn't find the power to do so. After all, he probably didn't even know why you were upset and who were you even kidding, he was everything you needed.
He was sitting there shirtless, dressed only in a pair of grey sweatpants. His hair was tousled from sleep. If it weren't for the sheer terror you felt because of the storm outside, you knew your cheeks would be burning at the sight of him like this. You noticed his mouth moving and, reluctantly, you slid one headphone off your ear to hear him.
“W-what?” you squeaked, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Sweetheart,” Logan whispered cautiously into the darkness.
At the sound of his voice, the tears that had been brimming in your eyes finally spilled down your cheeks. “I'm so sorry, I feel so stupid,” you whispered, taking off your headphones and quickly trying to wipe your tears away, embarrassed by your emotions and the fact that you were terrified by the storm.
Seconds later Logan was climbing up the bed and he was lying right next to you. His strong arms wrapped around your shaking form almost immediately, holding you tightly.
“Shhh it's okay sweet girl, I've got you,” he whispered softly as he kissed your temple. Warmth spread through you at the action and you melted into his embrace.
“I hate being scared of them, Lo,” you mumbled into his chest as he squeezed you tightly.
“It's okay princess, I got you. I won't let anything happen to you.” His hands, surprisingly soft, were stroking your skin in a soothing manner as he continued to press soft kisses around the top of your head.
As Logan held you, you felt yourself slowly begin to calm down. Even though the storm showed no signs of letting up, his presence made you feel much more at ease and secure. Logan meant everything to you—he was your anchor.
“Please, stay,” you whispered as the last few tears slipped down your cheeks.
In the dark, Logan whispered your name and tightened his embrace. “I'm not going anywhere, baby girl.”
As Logan held you close, you felt your body relax gradually. He gently ran his hand through your hair, pulling the covers over both of you and adding an extra layer of warmth.
You reflected on how he often spoke to you and the way he treated you with such care. You couldn't help but overthink his sweet and gentle treatment. You knew you were more emotional and needed extra reassurance and patience, but you had never considered that he might actually have feelings for you beyond friendship. You often felt like a burden to your friends and especially to Logan. You were fairly certain you were the only one he treated this way. His teasing sometimes seemed like it could be flirting, and despite your attempts to deny it, deep down you sensed that you were somehow special to him.
But another part of you couldn't shake what he had said earlier that night to Jean. You felt deeply conflicted and confused about everything happening between the two of you. The uncertainty and mixed emotions left you struggling to understand his true feelings, unsure of how to navigate the situation.
So you did what felt best to you, which was communicating. Even if you hated confrontation so much, you hated being unsure even more.
“Lo?” your voice trembled as you whispered against him.
“Yeah, sweet girl?” He said gently.
You took a little longer to respond, lost in your own thoughts, overthinking everything. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest. Sensing your hesitation, Logan spoke up again, breaking through your spiralling mind.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice lingering in the air as your eyes fluttered open. His head was tilted slightly, worry etched across his face.
“'M-am fine… I just—” you stuttered, your voice cracking. Logan stared at you, waiting patiently for you to finish. “I need to talk about something, or-or it will probably eat me alive if I don't.”
Logan's brow furrowed as his concern deepened, but he remained patient, waiting for you to continue.
“I- I overheard you and Jean earlier tonight…” your voice barely above a whisper.
Recognition settled over him at your words. He sighed shortly after. “What exactly did you hear?”
“You said…” your voice faltered, cracking slightly before you took a deep breath, closing your eyes. “You said we weren't like 'that,' and that we were just friends. After hearing that, I couldn't stay. It hurt too much.” You paused, your words tumbling out in a rush. “I know I shouldn't have eavesdropped, and I'm sorry... I just—” Your voice trailed off as you buried your face in his chest, your rambling finally coming to an end.
He let out a deep sigh, pulling you closer into his embrace. One of his hands gently cupped your cheek, causing your breath to hitch at the contact. “Sweetheart,” he said, his voice steady but filled with warmth. Slowly, you opened your eyes, tears welling up as you met his gaze. Logan's expression softened, and he let out a soothing sound. “Angel, if you'd stayed a little longer, you would've heard the rest of the conversation.”
“W-what?” You squeaked, your heart pounding against your chest as you anxiously waited for him to continue.
“First of all,” he began, locking eyes with you as he spoke, “I told Jean that I couldn't tell you how I felt because I never thought you'd feel the same way. I figured you were better off not knowing how I feel about you because…” His voice faltered for a moment, a heavy sigh escaping him before he continued, “I've always believed I didn't deserve someone like you. Someone so beautiful, so patient, intelligent, caring and so sweet.”
“Lo—” It was difficult to process everything he had said. You had been so sure that he didn't feel anything more than platonic for you, so hearing that he did was overwhelming and you needed to let it sink in. “I just thought... you know, with all the people you've had over in the past, you wouldn't feel anything for me,” you said, your sadness making it hard to finish the sentence and your nerves bracing for the words you had been dreading to hear.
“I know it sounds stupid, but I kept convincing myself that if I would have meaningless sex with random people that I would get over you. That if I told you how I felt, I’d lose you,” he went on, his vulnerability tugging at your heart. “That’s the last thing I want. You mean too much to me to risk that. I love you, and the thought of losing you—even if it meant not having you the way I wanted—was unbearable.”
Tears welled in your eyes, slowly slipping down your cheeks as he poured out his heart, leaving you in disbelief. You hiccuped through your tears, “You... y-you love me?”
His expression softened further as he took in your puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. Gently, he used his hands to wipe away the tears that were slipping down your cheeks, handling you with far more tenderness and care than you had shown yourself earlier.
“Of course I do,” he replied softly. “In every universe, there's no one I love more than you.”
“Logan, you deserve me. Just as much as I deserve you,” you said, cupping his cheeks as tears continued to stream down your own. “You don't have an idea how much I love you.”
Logan smiled softly before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. His arms tightened around you as he began to pepper your face with tender kisses. You couldn't help but giggle against him, feeling the tension between you both melt away bit by bit. The tears slowly came to a stop.
As the emotional intensity of the moment subsided, you felt a sense of relief and contentment. The storm outside seemed to fade into the background as you basked in the warmth of your newfound understanding. You knew that challenges would still come, but facing them together felt infinitely more manageable now that you had acknowledged your feelings for each other.
After placing a final kiss on the tip of your nose, he pulled back, his gaze filled with such deep affection that it left you feeling overwhelmed—but in the best possible way.
Logan caressed your face with fondness as he admired you. “You’re beautiful.”
You’d feel flustered instantly. “You’re so handsome Logan.” You whispered timidly.
“Really?” He’d smile down at you.
“Yes,” you whispered, continuing to meet his gaze shyly, your heart racing as his touch lingered on your skin.
You felt his hand slip beneath the hem of your nightshirt, his fingers tracing the soft skin of your back. A shiver ran down your spine at his touch, drawing his playful gaze as his eyes glinted mischievously. Your breath hitched when his other hand brushed against your bottom lip, sending warmth flooding through your body as his touch became more intimate, exploring you with quiet intensity.
“Do I make you nervous?” he teased with a devious grin.
“I guess you do,” you admitted, biting your lip bashfully.
“And why's that?” Logan asked, leaning in even closer. You could feel his breath against your lips, his nose brushing gently against yours.
There’s a moment of silence as Logan’s face moves closer and closer to your own, both unable to verbalise just how desperate either of you feel for each other.
His hands are warm as they wander all over your back, underneath the soft fabric of your pyjamas. Your eyes flutter close as you enjoy his attention. You feel yourself get lightheaded by his affection and by the close proximity of your bodies.
As your eyes remained locked with his, the intensity between you grew. You found yourself studying every detail of Logan’s face—the small moles scattered across his skin, his beautiful green eyes, the rough stubble along his jawline. Your gaze drifted from his eyes, down the slope of his nose, until you were irresistibly drawn to his lips. His mouth looks so inviting.
How much you’ve dreamed of having them on your own.
You swallowed dryly at the intensity behind his eyes, your heart beating madly in your chest. A flare of heat rushed to your cheeks as you resolved to reveal the truth. You didn’t want to keep it from him any longer, especially with him looking at you as if he was about to devour you.
“B-because I—” you finally spoke as you stumbled over your words. You felt weak in his presence, but in the best way imaginable. Heat spreads through your body, a feverish sensation overwhelming your senses. Your heart raced, refusing to calm down, and your limbs trembled uncontrollably. It wasn’t the kind of fever that came with illness, but a warmth—tingling, like anticipation coursing through your veins. You whimpered as the same warmth settled between your thighs. “I need y-yo—”
Before you could finish your sentence, his lips crashed onto yours, kissing you with an intensity and passion that left you trembling and helpless, while soft whimpers escaped your throat. He’d tug your body fully closer against his own as his mouth claimed yours.
All your thoughts overwhelmed your brain, disabling any rational understanding of what was going on. Gradually, you leaned into Logan, melting into his embrace. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed him back.
Logan groaned as he continued to kiss you with a fierce intensity, giving everything he had. You felt his tongue tracing your lips slowly. Knowing what he wanted you parted your mouth slightly, allowing him to slip his tongue inside and swirl it around yours.
You absorbed all his passion, savouring the warmth of his closeness and the sensation of his rough yet soft hands holding you tightly. You didn’t want to ask how this was happening, nor did you dare question whether it was real or just a dream.
One of his hands roamed over the bare skin of your back beneath your pyjama shirt, leaving goosebumps in his wake, while the other explored the tender curve of your neck. He held you with such tenderness as his mouth continued to move ferociously against yours.
You whimpered against him as warmth and wetness continued to pool between your thighs, your pussy throbbing as his voice rumbled with a chuckle. “You okay there, kitten?” he asked softly, his voice low as his lips brushed against your jaw.
You knew he could smell your arousal, knew he could hear how fast your heart was beating. You bit your lip, trying to stifle another sound, and you tried to bury your face into his chest, feeling the heat spreading across your face and body. Logan was having none of that, his lips quickly reunited with yours. He groaned softly, a deep rumble in his chest, as you trailed your tongue out to seek purchase in his mouth, and he opened for you without hesitation. His hands gripped at your waist and brought your body flush against his.
You wanted Logan to consume your very being. Claim you as his completely.
Soft little noises of pleasure kept leaving your mouth as he continued to kiss you. His lips pressed against yours, guiding the kiss with a gentle control that made you melt into his embrace. You surrendered completely, letting him lead as you revelled in the sensation. He was so good at kissing that all you wanted was to stay in this moment with him forever.
He pulled away after what felt like hours to breathe, his warm pants fanning across your heated face. He was still holding your face with one hand, and his thumb on your cheek moved a little, stroking your skin with so much tenderness. Murmuring against your lips, he said, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long. I love you so much.” before delving back in for more.
You whimpered as he nipped at your bottom lip, then gently swiped his tongue over it to soothe the sting. You gasped, and Logan seized the moment to explore the inside of your mouth with his tongue once again. As the kiss grew more heated, you moaned, feeling lightheaded and dizzy.
Surprisingly, you completely forgot about the storm that’s raging outside.
Logan devoured you, pouring all his love into you and claiming your mouth and kissing you with so much passion, your body shuddered with want, from the need for him. He moved his lips with yours and swirled his tongue with your own. His hand then moved to tangle in your hair as he pressed his body to yours completely.
Your hands moved to bury in his hair as well. When you pulled at his hair it was a bit rougher than you intended to and it tips his head all the way back and he lets out a loud, wanton moan that makes your whole body flush with arousal. You whined as he finally pulled away, as he left your body flush and panting and craving so much more.
His mouth then moved from your lips to your cheeks as he whispered his love for you again and again. He started trailing long, hot kisses down your jaw and neck. You whimpered pitifully as he suckled lightly on the side of your neck, tilting your head back instinctively to bare more of your soft skin to him.
“Fuck, baby, you’re everything.” He groaned as he bit down gently on the junction of your neck and shoulder. You cried out, impulsively grinding your hips against his own, desperately searching for some much needed friction against your throbbing clit. “You’re mine.” He’d growl against your skin.
You gasped, your eyes flying open when you felt his erection pressing against your pussy. You moaned as your core started clenching around nothing, begging for some attention, his attention.
Logan groaned as you continued to grind against him, grasping your hips into his hands to halt your movements. You whined in protest, as he then rolled you both over, hovering above you as he pinned your arms gently against the mattress.
“So needy.” He chuckled as a devious smile would grow on his face. “Does your sweet little pussy want some attention?” He grinned when you whimpered underneath him, before he continued. “I can always smell how much you need me.” He growled before he rolled his hips against yours again. “This virgin pussy is always begging for me to fill her.”
You didn’t have time to become embarrassed as high pitched whimpers slipped past your lips as he continued to grind against you. You’ve craved this man so bad, and now that he was yours you didn’t want to hold back anymore. He intertwined your hands together as he moved his big straining and clothed cock against your now soaked panties.
“Love those little noises you make for me, such a good girl.” He moaned against the skin of your neck as he pressed open mouthed kisses and licks across your skin.
You whined as he gave you a particular hard thrust. You could feel how massive he felt as he rubbed his cock against your clothed folds. You couldn’t deny that it made you nervous but all you could think about was that you needed and wanted him to take you so bad. More wetness would pool down your heated cunt as you fantasise about him filling your tiny pussy with more than just his cock. “Ah, n-need yo-you Lo…”
Suddenly everything became overwhelming, the temperature in the room rising quickly, the feel of his thick cock thrusting against you, the feel of his touch as it wandered all over your skin and the fact that you were going into a foreign but intimate territory with your best friend had you feeling hot all over.
His features softened as he took in how overwhelmed and flustered you looked. He slowed down his movements and one of his hands would move to hold your face as he slowly leaned down to peck your lips. “You’re okay baby girl, I’ve got you. I will take good care of you.” He whispered against your lips. His low voice sent a new wave of arousal down your body. “Tell me what you need, kitten.”
“You, I need you, Logan. I've always only needed you,” you whimpered against his lips as you reconnected them. His hands gently caressed your thighs, and your mind became hazy with intense lust and overwhelming love for him. Your brain instantly turned into mush as you continued to kiss each other passionately.
The kiss then increased with an intensity that had you gasping for breath. You rolled your hips into his, rubbing your throbbing clit against him for some friction against your core. You moaned into his mouth as you rubbed against him. The front of his sweatpants strained as he moved along with you.
As you kept losing yourself in the kiss, you felt his hands wander up your thighs up to the hem of your shirt. His fingers brushed delicately over the sides of your ribs, moving up and down your skin repeatedly, his fingertips mapping out every dip and curve as they wandered all over your skin.
“You're beautiful,” he whispered against your lips, admiring you, making you glance up at him shyly from beneath him. He pulled away just slightly only for him to hold the hem of your shirt, and you could tell what he was about to ask before he opened his mouth. You bit your lip and nodded vigorously, causing him to chuckle breathlessly. “You want me to take this off?” He questioned as he tugged at the fabric gently.
You nodded bashfully, unable to use or trust your voice during that moment.
He smiled softly, his hands gently brushing under your shirt before hooking his fingers into the fabric. Slowly, he lifted it, and you raised your arms to help him slip it off.
You felt heat rising on your skin the way his eyes roamed all over you, taking in every little detail. The way Logan was looking at you, eyes filled with nothing but love, adoration and lust, made you feel so alive.
He discarded the piece of clothing to the side and began mouthing along your collarbone with affection. You trembled underneath him as he showered you with his attention. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered repeatedly as his mouth travelled all over your exposed skin.
His large hands moved to the curve of your waist where it met your hips and clutched it, holding you tight as he littered damp kisses and nips to your shoulders and any skin along the way down to your breasts. You whimpered as he traced the tip of his nose over the swell of your breast.
He smirked as he looked up at you, breathing in through his nose as he inhaled your scent and you couldn’t help but shiver when he exhaled warmly through his mouth and onto your nipple. “Fuck, baby girl, you’re so hot.”
Then, he wrapped his lips around one nipple, teeth just skimming your skin as he sucked and licked with passion.
“L-Lo,” you mewl as you try to grind your hips against him, your cunt seeking friction as it throbs with need.
“Feeling good kitty?” He quipped back as he grins up at you. You felt your skin flush with heat as you just stared down at him. Lust was written all over your face and he had no trouble reading your expression. So he resumed licking, long, lavishing licks with the flat of his tongue over your pebbled nipple as the other hand which was occupying your other breast, travelled all the way down to your panties.
As his fingers slipped underneath the band of your lacy underwear, down to where you needed him the most, his mouth fell open to unleash a loud groan onto your nipple as he felt your wetness, sliding his fingers between your soaked folds.
He explored your wet cunt patiently. Heat overwhelmed your senses as Logan continued to litter soft kisses all over your chest. Your hands found his head, running your fingers through his hair as his mouth continued to wander all over your naked skin.
Logan’s lips moved slowly down your body, kissing every little place he could find on your skin while his hands traced along.
Soon, he would retreat his hand from your heat, leaving you a whimpering mess. He then leant forward, his face meeting your sex, breathing in the smell of your pussy, running his nose against the damp patch on your underwear. You whimpered as he inhaled your scent. “Fuck kitten,” he growled as he couldn’t seem to stop smelling you. “This pussy smells so good, I can’t wait to taste ya.”
A devious smile played on Logan’s lips as he looked up at you through his eyelashes. “I am sure you taste just as good as you smell, if not better.” He groaned before taking your underwear between his teeth, while pulling it off your legs slowly. A shuddering breath left your lips, speechless as you watched him take off your lacy panties, becoming needier the longer you watched him. Logan kept looking at you as he slid down your body, pulling it off of you when it reached your ankles.
Once he took them off completely he gently pushed your legs wide for him, whimpering as the air hit your wet slit. He took a moment as his eyes took over you, your glistening centre clenching around nothing as he continued to stare at your wet hole. The man between your legs would moan at the sight. Not much later, Logan smirked as he kissed all the way up to your leg, taking his sweet time to give your body the attention you deserved. He pressed soft kisses from your ankles up to your knees, his hands moving along with his mouth, caressing the insides of your thighs as he gradually moved up your legs.
His lips lingered on your thighs, licking and sucking some kisses on your soft skin, Logan’s lips were so close to where you needed him the most yet he felt so far away.
“So pretty,” he murmured as he guided your legs over either of his shoulders.
You were about to beg as his lips detached from your thigh, only for moments later to feel him nuzzling against your pussy, smearing your juices across his lips and opening you up to his skilled tongue.
You gasp and squirm at the contact of his wet tongue.
He then pulls back for a second, “pussy tastes so good,” he moaned before his fingers moved to spread your outer lips for him. “But I think I'm gonna play with my girl for a bit.” Logan smiled as he slid a finger inside of you, watching the way your body squirmed at the sensation, moaning against the pillow next to you as you tried to muffle yourself.
You moaned as he moved his thick and long finger inside your tight walls. “So wet for me baby girl, you’re literally dripping on my finger,” he said before he pressed some kisses on your pubic bone, making you buck your hips in response. “Easy, kitty, we have all night.”
“L-Logan, please please I need more. Need your mouth and just. More. Pleaseeee need you so ba—” your whining got cut off the moment you felt his lips wrap around your clit, sucked it into his mouth, coaxing a loud but broken moan out of you. “F-Fuck!”
You felt like screaming, you didn’t know what to do with your hands, feeling so lost and overwhelmed with the pleasure Logan was giving you already. He dove between your legs, licking a stripe up through your folds and teasingly dipping his tongue into your entrance along with his finger before he travelled up to your clit, spreading your lips with his wet appendage before sucking your button into his mouth.
The whine that came out of you only drove Logan to seek out more of those heavenly sounds. As his one single digit pumped in and out of you, you couldn’t help but appreciate that his fingers felt so much more pleasurable and thicker than your own. As bliss overwhelmed your senses, you felt your whole body start to tremble.
Your core began clenching around his finger, begging for more. He pumped his finger in and out of you at a leisurely pace. Instinctively you tried moving your hips, slowly, grinding against his hand and mouth as he moaned. He gave you an intense look as he continued to fuck you with his finger. His eyes couldn’t seem to stay in one place as he admired how beautiful you were underneath him.
You were panting heavily, barely able to think straight, your mind turning hazy as he slowly slipped a second finger inside your tight channel.
Logan moved them slowly at first as your pussy tried to adjust to the addition. The stretch was overwhelming but oh so satisfying. Little whimpers left your lips as he fucked you with his fingers. He moved his face back to meet yours, engulfing you in a passionate kiss, swallowing all your little mewls.
You gasped, his tongue slipped inside your mouth, kissing you with so much passion, giving you everything he had to offer. “That feels good doesn't it, princess?” Logan groaned as his thumb made contact with your clit. You bucked your hips and nodded quietly. “Use your words pretty girl,” he taunted while he curled his fingers inside you as he played with the sensitive spot inside you.
“Yes, please please Lo, feels… so good.” You moaned loudly.
Soon his lips travelled all the way down your body as whines and whimpers left your trembling lips, silently begging for more — all while he was still finger fucking you.
Logan inhaled your scent as soon as he leaned forward, but didn’t let you wait in anticipation much longer. He wet his lips before his head dipped between your legs, warm tongue licking a slow stripe across your outer lips, all the way up to your button.
“Ah, fuck!” You cried out, your hips bucking off the mattress.
Squeaky, senseless noises bubbled up from your throat wantonly. Your hips stuttered against him and he just sighed like there was nothing in the world he'd rather do than this, eating you out on your bed.
You were a mess of his name, chanting and stuttering over and over again like a prayer. Your eyes squeezing shut to the point of tears, his mouth licked up your clit, as he continued to finger you while one of his other hands was holding your hip, pinning you to the soft sheets as you bucked into him, trying to urge him to do more.
The way he build up your arousal by pumping his fingers in and out of you, curling up ever so slightly to find the spongy spot inside of you. The familiar coil in your belly continued to build up as Logan suckled on your sensitive bud. Your abdomen tightened as he began quickening his pace again, his fingers hitting into that sweet spot with precision, had your toes curling as you clenched your thighs around his head.
Logan was lapping at you with determination, moving his fingers continuously as he slowly got you to the edge.
“Oh, my—”you whimpered, trembling digits sinking half into his brown hair and the other against your teeth, as you tried to silence yourself. “Fuck, aahh Logan, f-fuck…”
He moaned against you as his lips sealed around your clit and you bucked your hips at the action. Warmth spread throughout your whole body as he began talking you through it. “Fuckin’- you taste so good. Feels so good. You’re just… everything.”
You whimpered as he continued. “Come on,” he grunted as he pumped his fingers faster in and out of you. “Come on baby, cum for me.”
“Ah, d-daddy,” You gasped loudly as your whole body trembled even more, the hot familiar feeling continued to spread all over your body, your body tingling, your hips moving at their own accord against Logan’s hand and face. Totally unaware of the word that slipped past your lips as your body tensed as he called you ‘a good girl’ and shortly after you came against his mouth and around his fingers.
“That’s my girl.”
Your whole mind felt like exploding and all you could see were stars. You felt so overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure and emotions you were experiencing. Your body still trembled as you felt yourself come down from your high.
As you slowly came back to your senses you felt him gently pull his fingers out of your pulsing hole. But you still felt Logan’s mouth on you, licking and sucking at your pussy and it didn’t feel like he was gonna stop any time soon. You whined as he moaned against you while he licked against your tight entrance, licking up your release, his tongue prodding your slick hole.
“‘S too much.” You whimpered at the overstimulation.
Logan ignored your pleas, moaning against your heat as he continued to eat you out. The man you adored so much between your legs kept sliding his tongue up and down your sensitive slit. Your little mewls and other noises of ecstasy spurred him on, to move his lips back up to your clit, sucking the nub softly between his lips.
“You love having daddy eat your sweet pussy don’t you?” He smirked, looking up at your flustered and embarrassed face as he continued licking your soaked cunt. “No need to be embarrassed, baby. I like it.”
The walls of your pussy clenched furiously, the empty feeling inside you intensifying with every lick, and as your wetness trickled out of you, your core practically begged him to fill it up.
“Oh sweet girl.” Logan tutted as you began grinding your hips against his face as moans kept spilling from your lips. “You’re so sensitive, kitten.” He chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your clit.
Eventually he leaned down, finally slipping his tongue into your entrance, he curled the muscle upward to brush your walls, the sight of your fingers bunching the fabric of the sheets in a tight grip encouraged him to do it again and again.
Writhing below him, you felt him lick up and press against a sensitive spot inside that had you seeing stars, while your hips bucked against his face uncontrollably. Your fingers moved once again, gripping onto his dark hair rather harshly as you pushed your hips against his face shoving his tongue deeper inside your hole.
“Please,” you begged. “‘M close.”
“Please what?” He taunted as he continued to lick your heat.
“P-please,” you stuttered and paused before finishing timidly. “Daddy.”
“Good girl,” he said before plunging his tongue back inside you as his thumb came up to press against your little bundle of nerves. Moments later, the tension snapped inside your lower tummy, cumming with a loud whine, your hips stuttered as your vision blurred. You cried out his name, your voice unable to remain steady.
Your hips stuttered until the final waves of aftershock pass. As you slowly came back down to reality again while you tried to catch your breath, you heard him praising you softly while he continued to lap at your wetness gently. You whined and nudged him away with your leg, only to react with a chuckle.
“Taste so good, baby. Could eat your sweet pussy all day.” He grinned as he licked the wetness off his mouth. Logan smirked, holding eye contact with you as he brought his glistening fingers to his mouth.
You giggled as he licked his fingers clean, feeling slightly embarrassed by the action. Trying to hide your flushed face, you lazily raised your hands to cover it, but Logan wasn’t having any of it. With a gentle smile, he placed tender kisses all over your hands, pulling them down slowly. Then, he leaned in closer, pressing sweet kisses to your nose, your forehead, and both your cheeks before finally capturing your lips. Each kiss was playful, filled with warmth, as laughter bubbled softly between you, his grin widening against your mouth.
He pulled away with a satisfied sigh, a warm smile spreading across his face as he reached to touch the side of your neck, tracing his fingertips up and down.
You exhaled as you melted at the feel of his touch and kissed his thumb as it came to trace across your lips. Your shaky legs wrapped around his hips, and with a playful gleam in your eyes, you gave his thumb a tender lick, holding his gaze as you rubbed your still sensitive heat against his clothed cock.
“F-fuck, you can’t just do that kitten.” He groaned as his hands came to hold your hips, stilling your movements.
You whined, pouting as you looked up at him. “Why not?”
“It’s hard to control myself around you.” He grunted as he started grinding his cock against you. Your gaze wandered downward, following the line of the vein near his V-line as it disappeared beneath his grey sweatpants. You couldn’t help but whine underneath him as he continued to grind his covered cock against your growing wetness. You gasped after giving you a particular hard thrust, that’s when you realised and felt he wasn’t wearing any underwear underneath them. He felt massive. “I’ve been trying to control myself for years. I think I’d have to control myself a bit longer.”
“W-why?” you hiccuped as he kept rutting his hips into yours.
“Don’t wanna hurt ya.” He mumbled, as his cock strained against his sweatpants.
“But I know you won’t.” You said, your voice steady, filled with all the confidence you could summon. You watched as his jaw clenched, his grip tightening slightly as he held himself back, resisting the urge to just take you like he always wanted.
“How are you so certain?” His breath hitched when you tightened your legs around him.
“I-I, because I trust you.” You continued to stutter as you both rolled your hips against each other. His eyes darkened with desire, but you could tell he was trying to restrain himself, fighting against what he truly wanted, even though the tension between you was nearly unbearable. Still, you held his gaze, unwavering. “Because you love me.”
Logan groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought to keep control, every muscle in his body tense with the effort. You could see the conflict etched across his face, the battle between what he wanted and what he was trying to hold back. His grip on you tightened slightly, a sign of the restraint still lingering in him, though it was slowly slipping away. His breathing was ragged, and for a moment, you thought he might give in. But then, he swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay still, clinging to the last shred of restraint that hadn’t left him yet. “You don’t know how hard this is,” he muttered through gritted teeth, his voice thick with desire. “How difficult it’s been, every day since I met you, trying to hold back while being around you.”
“I think I do, Logan,” you whispered, gazing up at him. “Maybe not in the exact way you feel it, but I’ve struggled too, convincing myself daily that I could never have you. And now, realising I could’ve had you from the start—it’s almost unbearable.” You bit your lip, noticing how his expression softened. “That’s why I don’t want us to hold back anymore. I don’t think I can endure it any longer. Please, I need you, Logan. I love you, and I’ll always want you—”
Your words were cut off as Logan surged towards you, cupping your face as he kissed you passionately. His lips moved fervently against yours, as if he was trying to make up for every moment of restraint. Making up for any lost time. The intensity of his kiss made your head spin, your heartbeat quickening as you melted into his embrace. His hands then started roaming around your body, his hold on you tightening occasionally, pulling you closer, while his breath grew heavy as you felt every emotion as he kissed you. You clung to him, pouring out every feeling and emotion out with every heated kiss.
“I love you,” Logan murmured between tender kisses, breathlessly whispering your name.
Your own hands began wandering all over his body and eventually down his solid chest until your fingers met his abdomen, slipping momentarily underneath the waistband of his sweatpants. With a mix of urgency and desire, you tugged at them while whimpering underneath him as you continued to kiss him deeply.
“Just relax, baby. I’ve got you,” he whispered softly after pulling away from the kiss. He eventually took it upon himself to slowly peel back, shuffling a bit to rid himself of the last piece of fabric on his body. He tossed it aside, fully exposing himself to your hungry eyes.
Your breath hitched, your eyes wide. Fuck, he was massive. Long and thick in all the right ways. Just as you thought, the vein between his V Lines moved down to his cock. A spark of heat shot down to your pulsing core as you imagined how he would fit or fill you up. But it was also accompanied by a twinge of nerves.
Logan chuckled as he moved closer to you, his lips chasing your own as he enveloped you in another sweet but deep kiss.
The two of you kissed languidly for a moment, treasuring the heat of each other's bodies as your lips slot together with ease, but soon enough the kisses become deeper, more frantic and hands start to grip tighter and legs tangling together.
It's like you're both starved, this insatiable hunger for each other.
You couldn’t help but roll your hips against his to feel his thick cock. You whined as it turned slick as you kept grinding yourself against him, and he had no trouble gliding his hips against you and rutting it into your clit.
You gasped openly into his mouth, desire growing quickly. You were so wet. Logan swallowed your whines with his lips against yours, hips rolling against you. He kissed you full with fervour, his grip on you intensifying heatedly.
He held his length in his hand as he kept rubbing the head of his cock from your entrance, up to your clit, circling until you were squirming underneath him, and back down. The thought of his thickness finally entering your pussy made you wetter by the second, turning you more on. Logan swallowed your little mewls with his mouth, his hips rolling with yours.
You were trembling against him, full of anticipation. His body covered your whole body with his. You writhed against him, wishing he was just in you already and filling you up and consuming you with pleasure once again.
“P-please, Logan.” You stuttered, your body trembling underneath him as you waited for his next move.
Logan hummed as he concentrated while circling your clenching hole teasingly. You arched your back slightly as you whined, silently begging to finally fill your pussy the way you’ve always wanted him to do.
“Relax, baby girl.” He whispered after he licked and kissed underneath your ear.
“Please d-daddy, I-I need you.” You whimpered in anticipation. Logan would grunt loudly before nudging the tip of his cock against your soaked hole. Your legs trembled underneath him, a mix of nerves and excitement. “Want you to fill this little pussy. Need you t-to fill it with more than your cock. N-need your cum.” You whispered seductively against his ear as his last bit of restraint snaps.
At your words, Logan gradually put more pressure on your entrance making you whimper underneath him, once he finally slid his tip inside you, a gasp elicited from the both of you.
You’re aware this was just barely the tip of him, but you couldn’t help but feel the stretch burn already. Logan slid in so slowly it was agonising. You cried out as he gradually pushed more of his pulsing cock inside your own clenching hole. He was so big.
You tangled your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling slightly as you whined underneath him. He panted along with you, his warm breath fanning over your face while he kept his forehead pressed against yours. The stretch stung, but his pace kept it bearable. He guided himself a centimetre further, then another, another, until you were digging your nails into his scalp, a gasp spilling from your lips.
His hips stilled instantly once he heard the pained noises falling from your lips. Tears began to prickle at your waterline, a combination of discomfort and the overwhelming feelings that were coursing through you.
“Doing so good for me baby,” he praised as he peppered your face with gentle kisses. “You’re doing so good for me.”
“Please,” you whimpered as your eyes fluttered close.
Logan continued to move almost painfully slow, letting you adjust to every centimetre of him. After a couple of seconds you were able to relax more into it. You whimpered, clutching his shoulders at the stretch, the heat in your abdomen growing as your walls fluttered around him, pleasure beginning to bloom in your stomach.
“So full…” you whined.
“Such a good girl,” he grunted softly. You think there wasn’t a possibility to get more wet but as he utters those words you felt your heat get even more wet. He leaned down as he kissed your lips gently, as he filled you up bit by bit. He hoped the sweetness of his embrace would soften the sting.
You’re trembling as you canted your hips up, begging for him to fill you to the brim, while you gripped the bedsheets between your fingers. “Please Lo, need more. I can take it, daddy.” You whimpered as you involuntarily and repeatedly tightened around his thick cock.
He groaned at your desperate whines, losing his composure momentarily as he thrust the rest of his length all the way inside your tiny hole. The head of his dick kissing your cervix once he bottomed out. You cried out as you were trembling underneath him, trying to adjust to his size while your pussy kept pulsing around his cock.
“Fuck, so fuckin’ tight.” He hissed as he let you adjust to his cock.
His lips came to press soft and tender kisses all over your face as he let you relax. Tears brimmed at the corners of your eyes as you continued to adjust around him. You felt so full, as if he was made for you, and only you. The feeling of him filling you up so completely had you seeing stars and digging fingernails into his shoulders. You felt one of his hands finding your hand, lacing them with yours as the other one reached up to your face.
His breathing was heavy as you squeezed his cock repeatedly. Small whimpers left your lips as you squirm underneath him.
You needed more.
You hadn’t even realised your eyes had drifted shut until you slowly opened them, gazing up at Logan with a soft, pleading look. “Please, Logan.”
“What do you need, sweetheart?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated deep in his chest.
“Need more.” You whispered.
“Aww, does my sweet girl need me to move?” he teased, tilting his head with a playful smirk.
“Need you, please.” You begged as your pussy clenched around his thick cock rather hard which made him groan above you. “Please, I need you to fuck me so bad.”
His breath hitched as he exhaled shakily, before nodding quietly. Slowly, he started moving inside you, gentle but deep. One hand reached down to play with your clit, while the other one went to intertwine your fingers together, holding your hand tightly.
The sting hurt for a while, but it easily morphed into a more pleasurable feeling as he moved against you. You’re so overstimulated from all your previous orgasms that the sensation he was giving you was mixed between pain and pleasure.
He grunted as he dropped his head to your ear to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin just below it. Soon enough the pain would completely disappear and all you could feel was pure bliss.
Slowly, you were getting used to his girth, anticipating it every time he pulled out of you before moving forward. Your legs are splayed open on either side of his hips as he ground his cock into you. The angle was so good, gradually he would pick up his pace, leaving you a whimpering mess underneath him. As he fucked into you in languid strokes, the sound of slick skin and your noises of pleasure could be heard in your bedroom.
“How do you feel?” he whispered against your ear.
“Feels so good.” You moaned as you tightened around his cock, this time voluntarily.
You whimpered as he picked up the pace, angling himself in a certain way inside you. He finally leaned down to wrap his arms around you, the action elicited a gasp out of you as you grab at the sheets around you, as he fucked you harder and faster.
Every time he’d thrust inside you, his pelvic bone would drag along your throbbing clit, making you cry out his name in pure ecstasy.
“You’re taking me so well, sweet girl. Doing so so, good for me.” He whispered against your skin as he moved to nuzzle his face against your neck.
Soft grunts fell from Logan’s lips whenever he hit a specific deep spot inside you. You whimpered as his lips moved back up to your lips, enveloping them in a heated kiss. You melted completely against him, holding you close to him as he fucked you. He snaked one of his hands down between your conjoined bodies finding your clit as he rubbed two fingers over the sensitive nub.
At a certain point you felt him slide into a pressure point in your core and coupled with the way his fingers circled your clit, it had you clenching like a vise around his dick. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head from the pleasure he was providing you. The whimpers that fell from your lips became higher pitched as he picked up his pace.
“Feeling good, kitten?” He groaned, as his lips curled into a mischievous smile as he admired the way your face twisted in pure bliss. Too overwhelmed by the new experience. Filth and praise continued to come out of his mouth as he fucked you. “This pussy was made for daddy.”
His mouth covered your own instead as he swallowed all your little noises of pleasure, you could feel the tightness return in your belly, the tight coil that pulls tighter with every movement and every touch.
Your whimpers, gasps of pleasure and pants increased as ecstasy and warmth overwhelmed your senses.
“Taking daddy’s cock so well, baby.”
His hands couldn’t get enough of you, sliding around your hips and lower back, wanting to feel all of you, touch you everywhere. You whimpered at the feeling of his speed, feeling another orgasm coming so close, eyes tightly shut and legs locked bruisingly around Logan’s hips. He could feel it too, in the way you clenched and squeezed around his length, and he began to drive even harder into your pussy as he tilted his hips gently, searching for the one place that he hoped would blow your mind.
“Ah, daddy—” you hiccuped as he fucked you so good you felt like a blabbering mess. “Need you to come inside my pussy...”
“Is that what you want?” He growled as you pulsed around him. “Can’t believe it… it’s your first time and you’re already begging for me to cum inside. So filthy. You’re close aren’t ya?”
You nodded furiously as your arms trembled as they wrapped around him, your nails digging in his back as he moaned on top of you. The feeling of the coil tightening in your belly, was tingling down to your legs, ready to snap at any moment.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, cursing under his breath when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “Bet you’d look even prettier with my cum inside your pussy. All full and messy.”
“Please…” you moaned as you thought about him filling you up. “Please Lo, baby, daddy… please fill this pussy up.”
He grunted as he buried his face into your neck as he fucked into you, making the whole bed rattle at his force.
“You want to cum pretty girl?”
You nodded frantically at his words while your eyes fluttered close as you bit your lip harshly. You were bucking up beneath him, nails digging into his skin even more as his hand moved back to your clit as another came to intertwine your hands together, pinning them to the bed. He rubbed your clit with enough pressure to ensure you’ll cum around him.
“Cum for daddy.” Logan demands softly.
And when he finally nudged against that spot inside you coupled with his deep voice– you were exploding, shattering, and detonating all at once, as you cried out his name. Blood was rushing so wildly in your ears that you couldn’t possibly hear the way you wail and sob as he crashed his lips onto yours, swallowing all your noises. Your head lolled back, your back arching violently as you twist and contort in pleasure underneath him.
“That’s it, good girl.” Logan moaned in your ear as your walls spasmed and pulsed around his cock, begging him to cum inside, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised.
“Fuck,” he groaned, pushing himself up as he thrust deeper into you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly. “You want me to fill this pussy up? Make it all messy?”
You were still in a daze but you were able to understand him so you nod vigorously at his words, whining even more at the sensitivity. Your pussy squeezed around his cock in anticipation. “Please…”
“Fuck, take it baby.” It washed over him instantly, hips stuttering into you as he grew desperate, eyes squeezing shut when he felt his cock throb inside of you before hot spurts of his seed splashed along your walls, painting them in ribbons of white. The warmth of his seed filled you up and spread inside your pussy. The feeling made you whimper, limbs limp on the bed as he shallowly thrust into you, making sure you took every last drop.
His warm cum filled you up deeply, the mild heat of it settling deep inside you and causing you to squirm under him. Logan panted as he let his body slump against yours. He rested on top of you, trying to steady his breath. His cock was still nuzzled deep within you, still half hard as it kept his cum from leaking out.
It was a blurry haze when you came back to your senses, your whole body was aching whilst simultaneously feeling the most relaxed you've ever been, equally as exhausted as it was energised, and you didn’t bother trying to question why. Just pure contentment.
Once both of you caught your breaths, Logan leaned his forehead against yours before kissing you tenderly.
“That was…” He breathed, smiling tiredly at the complete dopey mess he's made of you; hair all over the place and eyes lidded heavily, heated skin glowing and your lips looking swollen from all the kisses you’ve both shared.
“Oh yeah, that was mind blowing.” Your voice came out hoarse, still recovering from the height and volume it had gone, and you cleared your throat gently before you smiled up at him.
“I love you.” He whispered before he captured your lips in a deep and lazy kiss. You could feel his soft mouth smiling against yours as you whimpered against him. You felt yourself melting against his embrace as he wrapped his arms around you.
“I love you too.” You whispered back against his mouth.
You shifted slightly when you felt that he was still hard inside you. Biting your lip, you squeezed purposely around him at the realisation. Logan groaned at the feeling, his large palms sliding up your sides in a soothing manner.
“Don’t do that.” Logan grumbled but you saw a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Why not?” You giggled as your hands trailed through his hair.
“Makes me wanna fuck you again.” Your boyfriend mumbled.
“Hm, that’s kind of the point.” You continued to giggle.
Logan chuckled as he pulled his head back, looking at you with a mirthful smile.
Before you knew it, he pulled out only to man handle your body in the position he wanted you to be. Manoeuvres your body until you’re on your tummy. His hands came to hold your hips, pulling them up, your ass in the air for him.
He kneads the flesh of your cheeks before spreading them apart for him. Your body slumps slightly forward with exhaustion but Logan is quick to grip your hips, holding you in the same position. “Oh kitten, I’m not done with you yet.” He tutted.
Your cheeks flushed with heat as you prepared yourself for a long night filled with passion.
thank you for reading 🩷🩷🩷
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#logan howlett#wolverine x reader#wolverine smut#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett x you#wolverine fanfiction#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett fluff#hugh jackman#hugh jackman smut#hugh jackman x reader#deadpool and wolverine#wolverine#wolverine x you#my writing
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😾Really Nice Guy Who Hates Only You
*part of the reverse trope series*
Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Celebrity!Reader Genre: Fluff/Miscommunication/Humor/SMAU Summary: Oscar was known to be the epitome of a polite cat. His reputation is that he is genuinely nice to everyone. Well, everyone except for you.
*once again, I have loved writing for this series and it seems like everyone loves these chapters (as they have the highest notes out of all of them). I'm really excited for what is to come! I have loved making all the special tweets and other additions to the posts!*
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
Oscar had been in a bad mood. The garage could practically feel the cloud that surrounded the Aussie as he walked through the garage on Saturday morning for the sprint. The scrunch of the nose and the constant side eyes also gave it away.
Normally, Oscar tends to be more on the quiet side. But today, he was even quieter. Gone was the polite cat, and it was replaced by a very grumpy feline.
“Hey Oscar! Come meet our guests!”
Oscar let out a sigh as he turned around and put a very fake smile on his face. This is the moment he had been dreading ever since you stepped into the garage. He did, or couldn’t, understand why you were wearing his number on the back of the jersey you wore.
It disgusted him.
You were very pretty though, he had eyes. Your hair went very well with the papaya orang and your smile could pretty much kill a man in a 10-foot radius. Except that right now, Oscar wanted your perfect hair to catch on fire and he’d avoid the smile.
When he finally got closer, he stopped a few feet in front of you, not wanting to get too close. Two hands clapped him on the shoulders as Lando started to shake him.
“So Os-cah, this is Y/n L/n, 2-time Grammy Award winner and probably the prettiest guest we’ve ever had.”
All right, so Lando was a gonner.
Oscar fought the urge to roll his eyes right into the back of his head so he wouldn’t have to look at you anymore. But your smile was oh-so pretty. You looked at him with wide eyes as you held out your hand for a shake.
However, Oscar just looked at it, then looked at you.
“Welcome.”
Lando reeled back, confused at his younger teammate’s coldness. The two watched as your smile faltered just a bit. (If Oscar had any remorse, he didn’t show it.) You were quick to recover and spread another smile, even if this one wasn’t as real as the first.
You put your hand down as you greeted, “It’s such an honor to finally meet you! I’ve been a fan for what feels like forever.”
Oscar grunted. “Can’t say the same.”
You absolutely wanted to whimper. You had been waiting to be invited to a Formula 1 garage ever since you won your first Grammy. And well, you had other offers from Red Bull or Ferrari, but the McLaren garage is the one you wanted to be your first. So, you had declined and declined until you knew that you could meet the driver that you had been following for so long.
But now that you finally met him, you wondered why he was such an asshole.
You pushed down your feelings and continued. “That’s ok. My music isn’t for everyone. But I wanted to congratulate you on your rookie season last year!”
“Thanks.”
Ok, Lando knew something was up and he couldn’t take the hurt-puppy-eyes coming from you anymore. The Briton was about to say something, but Zak had decided to interrupt with another celebrity guest.
“Guys, this is Sabrina, she’s also joining Miss L/n in the garage today. Ladies, we have two headsets for you in the back when we’ll go over some last minute car things if you’d like to listen in!” Zak explained.
It only hurt when Oscar eyes lit up at your fellow musician, brushing past you to personally introduce himself. Lando was now left with a very sad Grammy winner on his hands. He gently put his arm around your waist to bring you to the side.
When a long sigh escaped your lips, Lando felt awful.
“Y/n, I swear he’s normally the nicest person on the planet. Oscar always seems to love everyone, no matter the guest.”
Your eyes flitted over to where Oscar was now animatedly talking to Sabrina about her new album. You let out a scoff.
“Yeah, everyone but me. Maybe I should have just taken the offer from Red Bull or Ferrari.”
Lando pouted. He knew that you had been a fan of Oscar’s way back to the start of his F2 season. And then you had purposefully put the word McLaren in many different songs. Hell, your newest album titled “Momentum” was basically a love letter to your beloved team. You even had plans to become an investor once you could make the first payment.
The Briton felt lost. “I was going to find Max and Charles if you’d like to join me?”
You took one more look at Oscar, not surprised to see him glare at you from the side. That action made up your mind and you agreed to go with Lando.
Taking with Max and Charles was like a breath of fresh air. The two were great conversationalists and pretty funny. The Monegasque even invited you into one of the media buildings to look at the behind the scenes, which put you in awe.
The two rivals, thought, couldn’t understand why you were attached to Lando when you had a giant 81 on the back of your jersey.
“Have you met Oscar yet?” Charles asked. When you tensed, he knew that he had asked a wrong question. Your expression quickly became sad.
“Yeah. But I don’t think he likes me very much,” you muttered.
Max scoffed. “That’s absurd. He’s quiet, but he’s nice to everyone.”
Lando winced. “But for some reason, he was being really rude and just standoff-ish.”
You looked so dejected. “At first I thought he might not be a fan of my music, but then he was super smiley with Sabrina and we co-wrote most of mine and her songs. So it’s not the genre.”
The Briton wanted to try to bring your spirits back up, but he noticed the time and said that you and him had to be back at the garage. You said your goodbyes to the Dutchman and Monegasque before you followed Lando back to the garage.
On your way in, Oscar sent you yet another glare as he got ready to be in the car.
Although he had been mean, you still said, “Good luck.”
Maybe he heard you or didn’t, but he never responded or acted like he took it to heart.
When Oscar was able to overtake multiple cars and finish the sprint in P2, you were ecstatic. His terrible attitude did not hinder your joy for the Aussie. You didn’t secretly call yourself the #1-Piastri fan for nothing. Sabrina laughed next to you as you hopped up and down, glad that your driver finished well in the points.
It was sad for Lando who didn’t make it past P5, but the Briton explained that qualifying for the actual race is when it truly counted.
You watched with stars in your eyes as Oscar walked up after Charles to be interviewed by Jensen Button.
The former driver asked the first question.
“Oscar, first congrats on the P2, you did a lot of overtaking. Was that in the strategy?”
The Aussie laughed, really showing that he indeed was polite to everyone.
“Well the strategy is always to win, but we were close with all the upgrades. It’s been good and I’m ready for the races to come.”
A few more questions were asked and exchanged before Jensen somehow brought you up.
“So we saw that Y/n L/n and Sabrina Carpenter were both in the McLaren garage. And we all know that Y/n is a massive McLaren fan as well as your fan. Have you listen to any of her songs?”
Many people definitely saw the change in facial expression when your name was brought up. The smiley Oscar was replaced with a bored one.
“Well, I don’t really listen to artists who bash or make fun of my driving.”
Jensen gave me a very curious look. “She actually praises you in most of her songs.”
The Aussie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, like the one where she said she crashed her McLaren like Piastri.”
Your eyes widened, along with everyone else in the garage. Those were definitely not the lyrics to one of your songs. Lando also had wide eyes and he was looking right at you, who seemed to be on the verge of a mental breakdown.
“I would never do that,” you said, looking into Lando’s hazel eyes. The Briton looked puzzled. He had specifically played or sung songs for the Aussie that mentioned McLaren or Oscar.
You kind of just sank into the background, trying to process what could have gone wrong. Lando on the other hand raced to catch Oscar as he was walking into the garage.
“Mate, what are you doing?” Oscar asked as Lando was directing him to one of the driver rooms. Lando slammed the door and turned to Oscar.
“What are the lyrics to Y/n’s song?”
There was another eye roll. “Lando you sung them to me like two weeks ago.”
Land shook his head. “But tell me.”
Oscar huffed, “Small talk, big love. Act like you don’t care but I disagree. When I crashed my McLaren like Piastri.”
“Stop!”
The Aussie cocked his head.
Lando continued, “Those aren’t the lyrics you muppet. It’s ‘When I crashed my McLaren like past me.’ A few years ago, Y/n used to wreck a lot of cars at a teen. She got better and decided to buy a McLaren when your seat was announced for 2023. And then she crashed it on accident after she got broken up with.”
A look of realization washed over Oscar’s face and then a look of dread. A giant sigh left his lips. Lando thought he was going to pass out or something but the second Papaya driver quickly ran out of the room. He stopped short of where you had sat in the back of the garage and quietly started to step closer.
Your head was in your hands but you looked up when you heard footsteps. You were shocked to be looking at Oscar, who had a guilty look on his face. You shot up out of your seat and began to ramble.
“Oscar, I swear, I would never back and diss you in any of my songs. You’re truly my favorite driver and I was so excited to meet you. I have put your name in my songs before, but it’s only been praise. I’m so sorry that you’ve been thinking that I’d make fun of your driving and-“
Oscar held out a hand to stop you.
But now it was his turn to ramble, hands flying everywhere.
“You’re sorry? I’m sorry. I’ve been an utter asshole to you all day. That was horrible of me. Lando sung me the song a few weeks ago, but it was pretty mumbled because he couldn’t remember some of the words and I heard Piastri instead of past me and I just thought the worst and…”
Lando was having a field day watching you watch Oscar with stars in your eyes as he apologized over and over again.
The Briton pretended to dust his hands off as he watched Oscar pull out his phone and offer it to you.
“Another day, another matchmaking completed.”
y/n_l/n has posted
y/n_l/n thank you so much McLaren for the amazing day today! It was truly a dream come true to meet my all time favorite driver! little surprise for everyone else - Florida is yours (inspired by a special someone) 🧡
liked by mclaren, its_papaya, oscarpiastri, landoscar, and 3,205,195 others
queeny/n OH MY GOSH NEW SONG AFTER THE MIAMI RACE??
y/n&f1 wouldn't the song be written for Logan then?
y/nxoscar she said inspired - didn't mean that it's actually about him
oscah81 P2 SPRINT RACE AND POSSIBLE NEW WAG
landonorris I too would like a song pls
charles_leclerc we all know she wrote golden about me ♥️
maxverstappen1 I claim midnight rain then
landonorris ☹️
y/n_l/n it's ok lando - working on one now!
y/nsgrammy to think that Oscar thought she dissed him when she's like his biggest fan ever
oscargirlie y/n get's us with the second picture
oscarpiastri was the second picture necessary? and Florida? when did you have time to write that??
y/n_l/n 1. yes, it was very necessary, 2. I wrote it when you ignored me
oscarpiastri and you still wrote me a song?
y/n_l/n of course! most of my songs had you written in mind ☺️
oscarpiastri so. . . dress?
y/n_l/n 😳🤭
loscar-land your honor I love them
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis
#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri x reader#Oscar Piastri#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#formula 1 x you#formula one x y/n#formula one x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula one smau#formula one x you#formula one fanfiction#f1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#f1 x you#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x reader#oscar piastri x fem!reader
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Omg I don't know about you guys but sometimes when I think of a specific scene or moment I lowkey act the way it should go and it brings me so much pain/hapiness/despair/depends which scene I do and at the end I'm all like,,, gosh I wanna write that down so bad is so good omgvwgdhsbjsjs
Earlier I was thinking about the sport festival and that fight against Bakugou and Todoroki and somehow started acting as I was thinking and, yk, turning and moving and doing all the moves I had in mind for Bakugo and and idk man I was no longer me but Bakugou fighting Todoroki yk and holding him by the jacket and yelling at him to "Fight me with all you got! I can't win like this! I have to... to prove him..." and then I'm literally falling on the couch and I open my eyes and ausgejdjurueus I WANT TO WRITE THAT OMG IS LIVING RENT FREE IN MY MIND RN IS SO GOOD AND RAW AND AHHH
#YES THIS IS ABOUT THE BASTARD CHILD BECAUSE I STILL THINK OF THAT FIC FROM TIME TO TIME#Every time I get a new idea I'm lowkey glad I didn't finish that fic. Now if only I would write stuff down...#Anyway just got a cool move in mind for Baku to yk compensate for jis lack of explosions in that fight yey#writing#Writer#Pls tell me I am not the only one acting out their writting pls I wanna be normal#Honestly I can't help myself sometimes though#Is like... Yk the character takes over me if it makes sense??? And is playing the scene i have in my mind and is so good and omfg#fanfiction writer#that todoroki katsuki au nobody did ask for#I swear I didn't forget about that fic. One week before I get a free week from work so yk I might try writing something#No promises
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Villain! Seungcheol
— Synopsis: After facing constant rejection from your own boyfriend, you discover he’s a superhero flying around the city. Seungcheol, the so-called 'villain,' stepped in when you were left as bait, exposed to your boyfriend's enemies. It turns out, he's the one who truly took care of you. — WC: 13k — WARNINGS: fantasy, angst, smut, crack, cigarettes, stalking (for good), physical fights, injury, murder, death (not the reader, not seungcheol), paranormal elements (superpowers, misshapenness, telepathy, and floating), moral ambiguity (unclear distinctions between "heroes" and "villains"), sex toys, oral (f. & m.), getting caught masturbating, cock riding, edging, creampie, DIRTY TALK.
You’ve dated a guy from the basketball team in high school, a guy from the cafeteria you used to frequent, and had your flings with… normal people. Gym rats or those who sang at the local bar.
But never... a hero?
He was kind, and romantic, and treated you well—in the beginning of your relationship. But then he became distant, always desperate to go home at night, barely sleeping at your apartment. You thought about a whirlwind of things, like a normal person would think of; that he was cheating on you, that he had stopped loving you.
Tonight, you’re making dinner—a last-ditch effort to please him, to make him notice you again. The TV in the living room is tuned to the news, the background noise almost comforting. You chop vegetables with precise, almost robotic movements, your mind drifting.
“He’s probably just busy,” you mutter to yourself, trying to believe it. But it’s hard to ignore the nagging feeling in your chest.
Just then, a headline on the TV catches your attention. You glance up, expecting to see something mundane. Maybe an officer, a firefighter, or even a regular person with good sociology. Instead, you see your boyfriend, wearing a red hero cape, flying around the city. The spatula in your hand falls directly onto the ground, clattering loudly.
[Hero is seen flying between skyscrapers to make the city of Seoul increasingly safer.]
“What the...?” Your heart races as you stare at the screen, unable to believe your eyes.
Your boyfriend, the man you’ve been worrying over, is a fucking superhero? Just like Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy?
The front door opens and he walks in, looking tired but carrying the same gentle smile that used to make your heart flutter. Tonight, though, it only fuels your confusion and frustration.
“Hey, babe,” he says, stepping into the kitchen. He pauses when he sees your expression, the dropped spatula. “What’s wrong?”
You point at the TV, unable to form words. He follows your gaze, and his face falls as he sees the news footage.
“Ah, you found out,” he says softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was going to tell you, I swear.”
[...]
This is how it started. It's as if, when you didn't know, he still made a point of being present here and there. But now that you know, he doesn't even care about it anymore. “I have to save the country, love,” you’ve heard this a bunch of times.
So when you turn on the TV, you have to see him flexing those stupid big muscles—that he gained out of nowhere—making you doubt if he’s using padding or prosthetics under that cheesy costume.
He shouldn’t be seen around your house, so the 'villains' don’t know where you live.
You don't recognize him anymore. Was it egotistical to wish that he never had superpowers? That he was just a regular human, just like you?
"Hey," his voice breaks you out of your thoughts. He's standing in the doorway, looking worn out but with a familiar, almost hesitant smile. "I brought takeout. Thought we could have a quiet night in."
You glance at the food in his hands, your heart aching. "A quiet night in? Like the ones we used to have?"
He sighs, setting the bags down on the table. "Yeah, like those. I know things have been... different. But I'm trying, Y/N. I really am."
"Trying?" you repeat, incredulous. "You disappear for days, and when you’re here, it’s like you’re not really here. You're always thinking about the next mission, the next villain."
"I know," he admits, running a hand through his hair. "The powers, the responsibility... it just happened."
"Did it?" you snap, unable to hold back your frustration. "Because it feels like you chose this. Like you chose being a hero over being with me."
His eyes widen, pain flickering across his face. "That's not true. I didn't choose this over you. I chose this because... because I want to make the world a better place. For us."
You shake your head, "But what about making our world better? What about being here, with me? Being present?"
As you sit down to eat, the TV plays in the background, another heroic feat being broadcasted. You hesitate, looking at the man you once knew so well, now feeling like a stranger.
With great insistence, you managed to make him sleep in your bed. When you left the bath to join him in your sheets, he was already sleeping—hibernating, snoring like never before. You sigh, laying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. You stayed like this until you saw the perfect clouds through the window, fluffy, looking like cotton candy, with the blue sky painting a canvas behind them. It was a beautiful morning.
You don’t remember leaving the window open, so you get up to close it, stopping the wind from hitting your face. The sun was radiating, and you could see people enjoying their morning. But still... why do you feel this smell of storm coming?
The water started to flow, not from the sky, but from your eyes—your tears. The next storm is the one inside you, making small whirlwinds and huge hurricanes, carrying you and destroying you. Obviously, your boyfriend wasn't home. His smell wasn’t there, his presence was like bills payable, only at the end of the month.
You made your bed, some of your tears ruining the perfect white duvet. You walked around your kitchen, picking up the single coffee mug on your countertop and washing it.
Your coworkers noticed your face—like you had slept nothing last night—and even asked what was happening. How could you explain this? How could you explain that you were dating a guy for some years, and he turned into a superhero—flying around the city with underwear over the costume?
Of course, they would laugh, not only because it's the biggest turnoff they will ever have seen, but also because they would think it's a joke, a badly told joke. It makes you feel even more stupid for being complicit, an extra in his comic book.
You arrive home. You look at the window, open again. You roll your eyes, closing it to prevent the wind from coming in. “Are you flying through my windows now?” you mumble, half expecting an answer.
You wonder if you should watch the news again, and see your boyfriend flex his muscles in front of the pretty journalist, putting out a fire in an establishment, looking at the camera to see if they've captured his heroic act, or when he carried a mail car with one arm in front of a group of girls who were walking on the sidewalk.
You cringe, remembering all of them.
Dropping your bag on the couch, you plop down and grab the remote. You flick through the channels, each news report showing another heroic deed of his. "Great," you mutter sarcastically, landing on a channel where he’s giving an interview, his muscles practically bursting out of his suit.
He’s talking about his latest rescue, grinning at the journalist who’s batting her eyelashes at him. "And what’s next for our hero?" she asks, her voice sugary sweet.
"I’m just here to help," he replies, flashing a charming smile. "Wherever I’m needed."
You snort, turning off the TV. "Right, wherever you're needed. Except here," you say to the empty room.
You wander into the kitchen, the silence pressing in on you. You fill the kettle and set it to boil, needing something warm to soothe your frayed nerves. As you wait, you think about the early days, when he was just a guy you loved. Back when his biggest concern was making you laugh, not saving the world.
The kettle whistles, and you pour yourself a cup of tea, the steam rising in lazy spirals. You take a sip, leaning against the counter. "Why can’t you just be normal?" You whisper to yourself.
A sudden whoosh of air makes you jump, causing your hand to bump into the kettle. The same speed you touched it, you yank your hand back, a little burn forming. It’s nothing too serious, but enough to make you curse under your breath.
Your boyfriend widens his eyes and rushes over. “Let me help you,” he says, reaching for your hand.
“Fuck off,” you snap, pulling away. “I don’t need your help.”
He frowns, clearly hurt. How can someone not want his help? “I’m just trying to help.” his voice laced with exasperation.
Irritated by everything and the little burn on your hand, you cut him off. “What are you going to do, huh? Use lasers from your eyes?” You turn to the sink, running cold water over your hand.
“You’re always complaining,” he starts, his voice rising. “But you’re so difficult to deal with lately.”
You whip around, glaring at him. “Difficult? Do you have any idea how hard this is for me?”
He crosses his arms, his expression turning snobbish. “And it’s a walk in the park for me? I’m out there saving lives.”
“Yeah, and flexing your muscles for the cameras,” you retort, your voice dripping with sarcasm.
He narrows his eyes. “You’re never supportive. All you do is whine about how hard your life is.”
You feel your blood boil. “Supportive? How can I be supportive when you’re never here? When you act like being a hero is the only thing that matters?”
He throws his hands up in frustration. “Because it does matter! I’m making a difference.”
“And what about us?” you yell, the words spilling out before you can stop them. “What about making a difference here, with me?”
He looks at you, anger and confusion on his face. “I’m trying to balance it, but you’re making it impossible.”
Tears prick at your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. “You know what? I wish you never turned into a hero. I wish you never had these stupid superpowers. I preferred it when you were just human, like me.”
He scoffs, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “That’s the thing. I don’t want to be weak like you humans anymore. You’re just jealous when you should be cheering for me.”
The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Jealous? Is that really what he thinks? “Jealous?” you echo. “I’m not jealous. I just miss the person you used to be.”
He shakes his head, looking away. “I’m still that person. You’re just too blind to see it.”
"Blind? Are you fucking serious?" you scoff, turning your back to him. "Leave," you grunt.
He furrows his eyebrows, shocked. Never in your relationship did he think he would see you like this—his cute girlfriend who begged for him to stay just one more minute, asking him to leave?
"I'm not going to repeat it," you say coldly. "You're making me feel sick."
"Fuck you then!" he curses under his breath before he storms out, leaving you stiff in the middle of your kitchen.
"Oof, I wouldn't let him get away with it if I were you."
You turn toward the voice, coming from the window—that one that you had to close again even though you already did in the morning.
A man is sitting there with the help of the fire escape stairs outside the building. He’s dressed all in black, and you can’t even distinguish how many layers of clothing he’s wearing. His hair is black, and he has one eyebrow raised as he smokes a cigarette.
People react differently when scared. Some scream, some run. But you… you feel like your feet are glued to the ground, and from your throat, not a sound escapes. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish as your eyes widen in shock.
He doesn’t seem to care. He drops his cigarette, watching it accidentally fall on someone’s head below.
He hisses, "Ooh, sorry about that." Then he jumps from the window, landing gracefully in your living room as he brushes off his shoulders.
“You know, you should be more careful when locking your windows. You’re the superhero’s girlfriend, I mean—ex-girlfriend now, I suppose. It seems like he didn’t teach you some basic security stuff.” He looks around your apartment, studying it. “I even drank a coffee in your Hello Kitty mug yesterday—”
“Who the fuck are you?” you cut him off, your voice finally finding its strength.
He raises his hand mockingly, rolling his eyes. “Relax, I’m not here to hurt you.” He smirks, glancing at the mug on the counter. “Nice collection, by the way. Just here to talk”
"Talk?" you echo, incredulous. "You break into my apartment, drink my coffee, and now you want to talk?"
He smirks, leaning against the wall. "Yeah, something like that. Seems like your boyfriend left you in quite a state.''’
You cross your arms defensively. “I don’t need your pity.”
“Pity?” he chuckles. “No, I just find it interesting. You’re dating the city’s golden boy, and yet here you are, all alone. Doesn’t quite add up, does it?”
You narrow your eyes at him. “Why do you care?”
“Let’s just say I have a vested interest in your boyfriend’s activities. And you,” he says, pointing at you, “are a fascinating part of that equation.”
You scoff, still on edge. “Fascinating? What’s so fascinating about being left behind?”
He smiles, a glint of devilishness in his eyes. “Nothing you need to worry about. Just keep doing what you’re doing. Maybe even... enjoy the freedom a little.” He winks, heading back toward the window.
As he climbs out, he turns back one last time. “Oh, and lock your windows. You never know who might drop by.” With that, he disappears into the night, leaving you standing there, more confused and unsettled than ever.
You move to the window and lock it firmly, your heart pounding.
Your boyfriend had warned you that this might happen, and it happened at the worst time—when he wasn’t there.
Honestly, you couldn’t sleep that night either, now worried that a fucking stranger could break into your apartment, and instead of just drinking a coffee, he might bake a whole cake in your kitchen or, worse, do something to you.
So, you do what a ludic person would do. You start packing an emergency bag and ask to sleep at your friend’s house, using the excuse that you’ve broken up with your boyfriend—when in fact, you were more scared than anything.
[...]
More terrifying was when you needed to return home.
You open your front door, putting the bag on the floor. Before you can turn around to close the door, a hand clasps over your mouth, and the door behind you closes. You feel a warm body pressing against yours as you close your eyes tightly.
It’s your end, you think.
You don’t even dare to open your eyes. When the hand is removed from your mouth, all you can mutter is, “Don’t hurt me, please.”
You hear a scoff, and then you open one eye. The person takes his hood off, revealing the same guy from the window.
“Are you stupid? Why would I want to hurt you? I’m not a coward.” He detaches from you, looking at your still-squeezed form. “Where were you? And you did a great job locking the other windows, but your laundry window was not locked.”
You can only stare at him, your heart racing. He rolls his eyes. “Can you stop being a pissy little girl? You’re a grown woman. I’ve told you I’m not going to hurt you, and if it comforts you, I won’t steal your mug collection either. Maybe some coffee powder—but, well, can you stop?”
You think you’re going crazy. Was all of this supposed to be normal?
He rolls his eyes again and disappears into your kitchen. You take small, shy—and scared—steps toward the kitchen to find him using your coffee machine, watching the coffee brew. His arms are propped on the counter, and he turns his head to look at you.
He sighs, seeing your still-compressed form, like you’re still scared of his presence.
“Seriously,” he says, straightening up. “I’m not here to hurt you. You need to relax.” He takes a mug from your collection and pours himself a coffee, casually leaning against the counter as if he belongs there.
“What do you want from me?” you finally manage to ask, your voice trembling.
He takes a sip of coffee, savoring it before answering. “Just checking in. Making sure you’re okay. Your boyfriend isn’t exactly around to protect you, is he?”
You glare at him. “I don’t need his protection. Or yours.”
He smirks, clearly amused. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.” He sets the mug down and steps closer, his eyes locking onto yours. “But here’s the thing—you’re involved now, whether you like it or not.”
You swallow hard, trying to hold your ground. “I don’t want any part of this.”
“Too late,” he replies, his tone serious. “You’re already part of it. So, you might as well get used to it.”
You begin to shiver as his words sink in. This is your life now, tangled up with heroes and villains. And there’s no going back.
He sighs, seeing the fear in your eyes. “Look, I know this isn’t what you signed up for. But you’re tougher than you think. Your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend, whatever—he’s not around, and that puts you in a vulnerable position.”
“You mean, you’re here to spy on me. To see if you can use me against him.”
He shrugs. “I'm here ensure you’re not caught in the crossfire. Believe it or not, I have some principles.”
You laugh bitterly. “Principles? Breaking into someone’s home and terrorizing them is principled now?”
He sets the cup down and steps closer. “I didn’t mean to scare you. But you need to be more careful. This world you’re tangled in—it’s dangerous.”
You stare at him, unsure whether to believe him. “And you’re what, my guardian angel now?”
He smirks. “Hardly. Think of me as a… concerned party. I don’t want unnecessary casualties.” “Stay out of trouble. Keep your head down.”
With that, he finishes his coffee and heads toward the window. “Remember, I'm not your enemy, but I'm definitely his. Don't make me your enemy too.”
"Wait!" you call out. He stops and turns around slowly, his expression curious. "W-who are you?" you stammer.
He tilts his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "Do you really want to know?" he asks, his tone dripping with mocking curiosity.
You nod, trying to keep your voice steady. "You’re practically living here. I should at least know your name."
He chuckles, a low, amused sound. "More like a roommate situation, huh? Alright, if you really want to know, you can call me Seungcheol. And if you’re genuinely interested in what I do, maybe I’ll take you to my HQ someday, show you my plans."
You grimace at his tone, which only makes him laugh harder.
Before heading down the emergency stairs, he looks back at you. "Stay close, alright? I need to keep tabs on you. You’re a bit exposed out here." He winks and disappears, leaving you standing there, more confused than before.
Seungcheol—the window guy, as you’d come to call him—disappeared physically for some days, but his presence lingered in odd, unsettling ways. You started finding pieces of ripped paper around your house, each with a different message.
“Keep your windows locked.”
“Log out of your social media from your home computer.”
“Check your door lock twice before bed.”
“Don’t leave your spare key under the mat.”
And one particularly embarrassing note: “I know you miss your hero-boyfriend, but can you also hide your sex toys? I’m traumatized.”
The embarrassment lasts only a few minutes each time, but then you think, nobody asked him to keep coming into your house. Still, there was a strange sense of security in knowing he was keeping an eye on things, even if his methods were invasive and borderline creepy.
Days turn into a week, and the silence feels heavy.
You find yourself almost missing the bizarre meetings. One night, as you’re cleaning up after dinner, you catch a glimpse of movement outside the window. You draw the curtains aside to find Seungcheol lounging casually on the fire escape, looking like he belonged there.
“Miss me?” he quips, flashing you a smirk.
You roll your eyes, opening the window slightly. “You really need to get a hobby, Seungcheol.”
“This is my hobby,” he says, slipping inside without an invitation. “Keeping tabs on you is surprisingly entertaining.”
“You know, you could at least pretend not to notice my vibrator,” you snap, half-joking, half-mortified.
Seungcheol grins, “Hey, it’s hard to miss when it’s just lying around. You could be more discreet.”
You huff in annoyance, continuing to clean up. He opens your fridge, rummaging around like he owns the place. “Any news?” you ask, trying to sound casual.
He casually bites into an apple. “Yep. One of his enemies is planning to invade your place tomorrow at 7:48 p.m. The exact time you get home from work.”
You spin around, eyes wide. “What?! What do I do?”
“I suggest you stay close to me,” he shrugs. “I can keep you safe, make sure no one uses you as a pawn.”
“You want me to trust you?” you ask, incredulous.
He raises an eyebrow. “Do you want to be safe, or do you want to have some alien freak shoving its tentacles down your throat?”
You give him an exasperated look. “I knew you’d have this reaction,” he says, shrugging. He places a flash drive on your kitchen counter. “Watch it yourself.”
You close your eyes, massaging your temples. You don’t know if you’re ready to see what’s on that flash drive, much less trust a stranger who claims to be your ex-boyfriend’s enemy.
“I need you to leave. Even if he’s my ex, I still can’t do something like this.”
Seungcheol nods, looking up like he expected this. “Your boyfriend won’t be here to rescue you if that’s what you’re counting on.”
“How can you be so sure of that? I don’t even know you!”
“Because if your stupid boyfriend didn’t buy those superpowers, he’d be nothing. Without that silly red cape and the TV cameras, he’s just an insecure guy who wants to be seen. And— come on, he didn’t care about the girlfriend he had waiting at home. You think he cares about saving random people? Don’t be dumb.”
His words sting, and you feel like you’ve been slapped in the face. He nods negatively as he walks out again, leaving you standing there, the weight of his words sinking in. You don’t want to believe him, but deep down, you know there’s some truth to what he’s saying.
With a sigh, you look at the flash drive on the counter.
The next day was a mess from the moment you woke up. You couldn't find your white shirt, and your baby liss was nowhere to be found. Running late, you had to leave without fixing your hair.
Work was a blur of you staring blankly at your computer screen, your mind preoccupied with the fear that some tentacle monster might actually show up at 7:48 p.m.
Were you being stupid for believing a guy you met barely a week ago? Absolutely. But who wouldn't be a little suspicious?
As you stepped off the bus and walked along the sidewalk toward your building, your watch read 7:58 p.m. You glanced up at your window. The lights were off, and everything looked normal. No way a villain would get you, right?
"I knew he was lying," you mutter quietly to yourself, almost convincing.
But your conviction didn’t last long. A massive purple tentacle exploded through your living room window, sending concrete and bricks crashing to the street. Your eyes widened in disbelief. Was that a person in the middle of those giant tentacles? Were you homeless now?
"Are you gonna hop on or let these ugly tentacles suffocate you?" Seungcheol’s voice cuts through the chaos.
You didn’t need to look to know it was him. You turned to see him in his black outfit, waiting on his motorcycle. Your instinct was to kneel on the ground and cry about your now-destroyed apartment, but you didn't have time for that.
You sulked a bit before grabbing the helmet from his hand and hopping onto the bike, your hands wrapping uncertainly around his waist.
As Seungcheol sped off towards his HQ—or hideout, whatever it was—your tears started to flow. "My apartment... it's ruined. All my stuff, my mug collection, my unicorn pajamas I didn’t even get to wear yet," you whined into his back.
Seungcheol fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Seriously? We're running from a monster, and you're worried about unicorn pajamas?"
“Yes!” you sniffled. “They were so cute. And now I don’t even have a place to sleep. My place is ruined, and all my goods are probably destroyed.”
“Focus on staying alive first,” he said, trying to sound more patient than he felt. “We’ll deal with the rest later.”
“But my mugs… My unicorn pajamas…” you continued, your voice muffled against his back.
“Alright, alright,” he said, trying to placate you.
Seungcheol had to concentrate to keep from crashing as he listened to you cry and whine about your lost belongings. He knew you were overwhelmed, and though it was annoying, he understood. Reaching his hideout, he finally stopped the bike and helped you off, letting you lean on him for support.
Your first instinct is to look around. It’s a large industrial loft, the walls made of bricks, and the long windows hidden behind some opaque plastic.
The place seems to have only the essentials: a large bed with a vintage headboard, a couch, a TV. Turning around, you notice the kitchen has a coffee machine just like yours.
Then your eyes widen as you spot familiar items: the white shirt you were looking for this morning, poking out of a huge black bag, a big box labeled 'mugs’ in bad calligraphy, your hair iron with the princess tape patch on the cord, emerging from another black bag.
Several bags are sprawled on the floor, all looking ready to burst.
"M-my things!" you squeak as Seungcheol looks unbothered, though you can see the faintest hint of a smile at your happiness. You run to him, giving him a clumsy hug that he doesn’t reciprocate, before opening the bags.
"It was very difficult to bring all of your stuff," he says, trying to hide his amusement. "Can I know why you have three... inflatable flamingos all the same color?" he asks, clearly judging the quirky items he found while gathering your things from your dresser.
You don’t respond, too busy rifling through the bags like a kid on Christmas morning.
You open another bag with a big smile on your face, which quickly fades when you see what’s on top: your vibrator, handcuffs, and lube.
You widen your eyes and try to close the bag with an awkward smile, but it’s too late. Seungcheol turns his head to the side, taking a deep breath as if trying to pretend he wasn’t the one who had to gather your spicy stuff.
You clear your throat, standing up and brushing off your knees. “When did you get all of this? I mean—how did you do it so quickly?”
"Some friends helped me," he answers, watching your reaction.
You widened your eyes, and he knew why.
“Chill out, I packed your Christian Grey stuff myself,” he said, looking up as if remembering something. “And what's with that neon green, dildo? Seriously?”
You stuttered, your face flushed. “I-I didn’t use that, it was a gag gift!”
“Trust me, I don’t want to know,” he said, cutting you off with a furrowed brow.
“That’s… oddly considerate of you,” you admitted, still processing everything.
He shrugged again, “Don’t get used to it. I’m not a nice guy.”
“Thanks, Seungcheol.”
“Whatever,” he muttered, turning away. “Just don’t make a big deal out of it.”
You sighed, “Thanks, I guess. It’s just… embarrassing.”
“Don’t sweat it. I’ve seen worse,” he shrugged.
“Worse than a neon green dildo?”
He chuckled, “You’d be surprised.”
You point at the large industrial loft around you. “So, this is your place?”
"Not as fancy as yours, but, yes, it is," Seungcheol responds, shrugging nonchalantly.
You shake your head, still taking in the surroundings. "I wouldn’t call my place fancy. Just... more pink."
He chuckles, nodding. "Yeah, I noticed. You have a thing for unicorns and pastels."
You look around, taking in the mix of sparse furniture and personal touches. "Why do you have my stuff, anyway?"
He leans against the counter, arms crossed. "Had to make sure you had everything. Can't have you running back to your place and getting into trouble."
You shake your head, still in disbelief. "You really don’t look like a villain."
He scoffs, giving you a sideways glance. "That's because I don't have a red cape? You don’t look this naughty either. I discovered it in the worst way."
You try to slap his shoulder playfully, but he catches your hand with his quick reflexes, smirking as he lets go and starts walking toward the loft above. You follow him, curiosity getting the better of you.
“Different from your boyfriend, I don’t need muscle superpowers to be relevant,” he says, glancing back at you as he ascends the stairs.
You glance around as you reach the upper level, which is filled with computers, chemistry equipment, and some jackets thrown randomly around. "So, what exactly do you do here?"
"Let's just say I have my ways of keeping an eye on things," he replies, tapping on one of the computer screens. "Information is power, you know."
You nod slowly. "And what's your plan with all this power?"
He raises an eyebrow, amused by your question. "That depends. What do you think I should do with it?"
You let out a nervous laugh. "I'm not exactly an expert on villainous plots."
Seungcheol chuckles, shaking his head. "Relax, I'm not planning world domination. Just...taking care of some business."
You tilt your head, still trying to piece everything together. "And what kind of business would that be?"
He sighs, looking frustrated at you—but trying to be patient. "Let's just say there are a lot of things that need fixing, and sometimes you have to break a few rules to get it done."
You frown, thinking about his words. "And my ex-boyfriend...does he know about any of this?"
Seungcheol shrugs. "He knows I exist, but he doesn't know the details. Probably too busy flexing for the cameras."
You can’t help but smile. "Yeah, he’s definitely good at that."
Seungcheol looks at you seriously. "Look, I know this is a lot to take in, but trust me, it’s better you know the truth. You can’t go back to being ignorant."
"So, what do we do? I can't just hide forever."
Seungcheol sits on the edge of a desk, looking thoughtful. "You’re here because you’re vulnerable—"
"Vulnerable?" you interrupt, crossing your arms. "You make it sound like I’m helpless."
Seungcheol stops for a moment, looking at you blankly.
"Think fast!" he says suddenly, throwing a sock ball in your direction. You instinctively step back, catching the ball, but your back overtakes the loft railing.
Seungcheol gets up from his chair, moving swiftly to grip you tightly before you fall to the floor below. You go static as you look at him, his hands firm on your waist, grounding you.
"You're good at catching," he says, glancing at the sock in your hand. "But you need to have a better sense of space."
Your heart pounds, both from the near fall and his closeness. "What was that for?"
He releases you, but his eyes stay locked on yours. "Training. If you’re going to stay here, you need to be alert."
You nod. "Okay, but maybe warn me next time?"
He chuckles, stepping back to give you some space. "Where's the fun in that?"
You roll your eyes, tossing the sock ball back at him. He catches it effortlessly. "So, what’s the plan? How do I learn to protect myself?"
Seungcheol tilts his head, considering. "I don't know... Maybe some basic self-defense? For example, if i do this—" He moves quickly, throwing a punch towards you—not to hit, but to test your reaction.
You manage to dodge, but not gracefully. He smiles. "Not bad for a beginner. We'll keep working on that."
[...]
You still miss your apartment, and a lot of your things are still in bags, which you pick through only when you need something. You always wondered what really happened in movies when heroes destroyed the whole city during battles. Now, you’re experiencing it firsthand. Your apartment is being repaired by the building’s construction company, with help from insurance. So, more days living with Seungcheol.
It’s not bad. It’s strange, for someone used to being alone at home. He leaves at night, just like your ex-boyfriend, but spends more of his days in the loft—more than your ex-boyfriend ever did.
He’s actually teaching you something useful. The two of you spar in the loft, not even needing to move furniture since there isn’t much. And he’s hard on you.
You support your hands on your knees, panting, while he looks untouched. "C’mon! Are you tired already?"
You straighten up, mocking his tone. "Unfortunately, my ex who fights around didn’t give me a preview of how to box."
He puts his hands on his hips. "Your boyfriend doesn’t know how to fight. He only has his powers to his advantage."
“You didn't watch what was on the flash drive, did you?” he asks.
You shake your head.
He sighs and asks you to come up. He sits you in his chair, in front of his computer, and opens a folder. There’s a video of your boyfriend inside a laboratory. It looks very old.
"I need more than just strength and flight," your boyfriend says in the video, addressing what looks like a scientist. "We’ve been studying this for years. My time has come."
“Are you sure? There’s no turning back,” the scientist asks.
“I’m sure. I can’t keep living this mediocre life,” your boyfriend replies.
“But what about the people around you? They’re at risk,” the scientist says.
Your ex-boyfriend's response breaks your heart, though you can’t deny it fits his recent arrogance. "I don’t care. I need this."
The scientist sighs and then injects several different colored serums into your ex’s body. He groans, and as he begins to levitate, the video blurs and turns off.
You stare at the blank screen, processing the information. Seungcheol leans back, giving you space.
"See what I mean?" he says. "He wasn’t thinking about you, or anyone else. Just himself."
“So, he chose this. He actually wanted this.”
Seungcheol nods. “Yeah, he did. It wasn’t some accident or noble cause. He was just desperate to be more than he was.”
You sit back, processing the information. “He used to be so different. I don’t even recognize him anymore.”
“That’s what power does to some people,” Seungcheol says, leaning against the desk. “It changes them.”
Seungcheol’s screens start to beep urgently, pulling his attention away from you. He walks calmly to the other side of the room to grab his jacket. The steady rhythm of his movements contrasts with the beeping noises filling the space.
He’s about to leave again when he pauses, his back facing you.
You watch him, restless, pacing back and forth as your mind churns over the recent revelations. His peripheral vision catches your agitation. He glances sideways, noticing the anxiousness in your steps.
He moves towards the door, then hesitates and turns back. “If you need anything, just—”
“Yeah, I know. Just call you, right?” You finish his sentence, giving him a small, knowing smile.
He smirks, nodding. “Exactly. Stay put. I’ll be back soon.”
With that, he leaves the loft, the door closing behind him.
You knew Seungcheol would arrive home late, and you needed to calm down. Unfortunately, the last bottle of wine was finished yesterday when you couldn't find anything else to drink with your popcorn.
Sweets maybe? Well, a villain’s house would have sweets? No, just as you thought. The only thing left was a pack of cigarettes on the kitchen counter.
You find yourself on the rooftop of Seungcheol's loft, the cigarette smoke filling your lungs and burning your throat. You didn’t like the smell of cigarettes and coughed every time the smoke filled your lungs.
But that’s what you had to dissolve a bit of your anxiety, your last moments with your ex replaying in your mind. So he never cared at all?
Suddenly, your cigarette is slapped out of your hand. You turn around to see your ex, his costume perfect, but his eyes deep and face scarred.
“This is what Seungcheol has taught you then? Aren’t you ashamed?” He sneers.
You open your mouth to answer, but he comes closer, making you flinch.
He scoffs. “What? You’re scared of me? Let me tell you something... He is the villain. And you’ve joined his side, my enemy, after all we had.” He spits the words out with venom.
Rage boils within you, making you feel not like yourself. “Seungcheol took care of me. If I were alone, I would be dead. You don’t know what kind of superpower this is.”
He grabs your arm, making you feel dizzy, your vision cloudy. The pain is intense and senseless.
“What? You thought a villain would help you? You’re fragile. You need attention so bad that I couldn’t even handle you.” You fall to the ground, the pain spreading through your body as you groan.
“You know what? If you think he’s going to be your enchanted prince, you’re wrong. So damn wrong. The chances of him wanting to kill you are greater than that stupid dream of yours—”
You hear an impact, and the dizziness and pain slowly dissipate. You breathe properly again. When you come back to your senses, you look up to see Seungcheol, fighting with your ex. Seungcheol is taking a beating, only advancing when your ex's power falters, like a lag.
You could leave sneakily, but was it right? Seungcheol literally protected you from your own ex, showed you his true colors, and taught you the best of himself. Even though he is cold and "cruel" as they say.
As you're thinking, a glass sound pulls you from your mind. It's an injection.
You see your ex crawling desperately to get it. Seungcheol gives you an exasperated look, signaling for you to pick it up.
You grab it, walking back as your ex roars for you to leave it. You clutch it in your fist and, in a moment of desperation, inject it into your leg.
Your ex widens his eyes. But the substance is too powerful for you. You fall again, the pain overwhelming you.
He laughs, but Seungcheol is on him, beating him relentlessly. The fight intensifies, Seungcheol’s blows becoming more furious. You can barely focus on their struggle, the pain in your leg is consuming your thoughts.
The injection burns through your veins, making you feel like you’re on fire. You clench your teeth, trying to endure it. Your ex's laughter turns into cries of pain as Seungcheol lands a particularly harsh blow.
Seungcheol’s eyes briefly meet yours, and you see the determination in them. He’s fighting for you, protecting you with everything he has.
Seungcheol pauses, turning his attention away from you as the hero rises once more, clearly summoning his last reserves of strength.
Seungcheol stands confidently, knowing he has a chance to defeat him—if only he weren't standing on the edge of the building.
Unfortunately, he doesn’t possess flying superpowers. Instead, he grips the edge of the building with nothing but the strength of his fingers, looking up at the hero who towers above him.
Yet, Seungcheol has one special superpower, the reason he's considered the villain: the ability to listen to those who need help, like an echo in his mind. He hears the calls for aid and responds in his own way, without the expensive, extraneous superpowers the heroes pay billions for.
Unlike them, who need to buy their abilities, Seungcheol was born with his. He helps those living on the margins of society, without seeking fame or recognition. He doesn’t want to appear on TV or in the news.
Inside the heroes' world, he is well recognized, but without the money and science they have.
Seungcheol has nothing in his favor.
Yet, he still manages to help people. They can’t understand him. And hate can come easily to that which is too remembered.
His body can't manage more than this—more than his telepathy.
If it could, he wouldn’t be in this situation. He’s going to end up like this. His death won’t be caused by a big octopus or a giant RoboCop, as other heroes did. But by a great show of charity. He would do it for any citizen, but the fact that it’s you makes him have no regrets at all.
Seungcheol’s fingers start to slip, and he knows his time is running out. The hero stands above him, a look of triumph on his face. But Seungcheol’s mind is calm, even serene. He’s made peace with his fate.
The hero moves closer, ready to deliver the final blow. But in that moment, Seungcheol’s telepathy kicks in stronger than ever. He hears the cries of the people he’s saved, their voices filling his mind.
He has always fought for those who couldn’t fight for themselves, without the need for glory or recognition.
The world may see him as a villain, but he knows the truth.
His life has been a quiet rebellion, a stand against the notion that only the powerful can be heroes.
Seungcheol's mind becomes silent, and he can only hear your groans. His eyes close as he tries to hear from you again.
“Y/N?” he telepathizes, his voice entering your mind, velvet and deep.
You groan again, and he asks. “I’m here... are you alright, my love? Can you walk?”
The affectionate nickname makes your heart flutter. Seungcheol agonizes when the hero's steps on his fingers, but he agonizes more because he can't hear a proper response from you. Desperation sets in.
“Answer me, please. I’m not going to last,” he telepathizes again.
“Seungcheol...” he hears your voice and breathes out, relief washing over him. He looks down, watching the movement on the street below. It was too much of a drop to survive. His fingers were burning with pain.
“Seungcheol...” you call again. He shuts his eyes, clinging to the sound of your voice. “Let go,” you tell him. The words hit him like a jolt. He doesn’t understand. His arms tremble with the effort of holding on.
“Trust me, trust me, trust me.” He hears it like a whisper around his head. The conviction in your voice pierces through his fear.
He loosens his grip, his fingers slipping from the edge.
The air envelops his body like a hug as he falls, the distortion from the speed making the street sounds blur into a cacophony. The only thing he can think of is how you’re going to live by yourself now.
As he falls, memories flash before his eyes. He remembers every face he saved, every life he touched, his quiet acts of heroism, every moment of your brief time together, and then, vividly, your face.
He thinks of your smile, your laugh, the way your eyes light up when you’re happy.
The moment Seungcheol hits the ground, he expects the pain, the end. Instead, he feels a strange warmth spreading through his body. He blinks, realizing he’s lying on a soft cushion of air, suspended just above the pavement. The hero stares down in disbelief.
Seungcheol’s body is gently lowered to the ground. He looks up to see you standing on the rooftop, your hand outstretched, eyes closed in fierce concentration. As his feet touch the ground, your eyes snap open, and you breathe out in relief.
Before Seungcheol can react, you advance on the hero, the two of you disappearing in a blur of motion and light atop the building.
Blinding flashes illuminate the rooftop as Seungcheol scrambles to his feet, urgency driving him forward. He runs into the building, tripping on the flights of stairs in his haste. The sounds of the battle above echo down to him, and he pushes himself harder, every fiber of his being focused on reaching you in time.
Seungcheol bursts onto the rooftop again, his breath ragged and his heart pounding. The sight that greets him makes his blood run cold.
Your ex-boyfriend lies lifeless on the floor, a pool of blood spreading beneath him. In your trembling hand, the hero’s heart reactor device glows faintly, now smeared with blood.
“Y/N!” Seungcheol shouts, rushing to your side as your knees give way, collapsing under the weight of what you’ve done. The powers from the injection still course through your veins, but your energy is completely spent. You tremble in his hands, your body feeling like it’s made of lead.
The weight of what you’ve done hits you like a ton of bricks. You stare down at the reactor in your hand, the blood smeared on your fingers, and a violent shudder runs through you. The metallic smell of blood mingles with the acrid scent of smoke, and it’s all too much.
“I never wanted it to end like this,” you whisper, your voice breaking. Your face is frozen in shock, eyes wide and unseeing as you try to process the magnitude of your actions. “I-I’ve killed someone.”
Seungcheol shakes his head, his grip on your shoulders firm yet gentle. “You did what you had to do,” he says, his voice low and steady. “He would’ve killed you, Y/N.”
You shake your head, tears spilling down your cheeks. “But it wasn’t supposed to be like this,” you insist, your voice trembling. “I didn’t want to become a killer.”
Seungcheol’s eyes soften, and he pulls you into a tight embrace, his warmth seeping into your cold, shaking body. “Listen to me,” he says firmly, his lips close to your ear. “You’re not a killer. You’re a survivor. He put you in this position, not the other way around.”
You cling to him, your fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as you sob uncontrollably. The reactor slips from your grasp, clattering to the ground with a dull thud. “I just wanted to be safe,” you cry, your voice muffled against his chest. “I didn’t want any of this.”
“I know,” Seungcheol murmurs, stroking your hair gently. “I know, Y/N. It’s going to be okay.”
You pull back slightly, looking up at him through tear-blurred eyes. “How can you be so sure?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Because you’re strong,” he says simply, wiping a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “Stronger than you realize. And because I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
The sincerity in his eyes makes your heart ache. Despite everything, there’s a flicker of hope in his gaze that you can’t ignore.
Seungcheol brings you back to his loft, your body feeling heavy and numb. He helps you inside the shower, carefully removing your clothes. You sit on the floor, naked, as the warm water cascades over you, washing away the blood and grime.
There’s no malice or ulterior motive in his actions—only a quiet, pure care. You stare blankly at the tiles of his shower, lost in your thoughts, while his hands work methodically, washing your hair and scrubbing away the blood stains from your skin.
You needed this.
The side effects of the injection, the strain of using powers you didn’t fully understand, have left you weak. So weak that you need him to do something as simple as this for you.
Once you’re clean, Seungcheol wraps you in a fluffy towel, drying you carefully. He dresses you in one of his shirts, the fabric soft and comforting against your skin.
He guides you to his bed, tucking you in. You sink into the mattress, the exhaustion pulling at you like a heavy blanket. Seungcheol sits beside you, watching you for a few minutes. His body aches from the fight, but his concern for you overrides his own pain.
“Thank you,” you whisper.
He nods, his eyes never leaving your face. “You need to rest. Let your body recover.”
You nod, closing your eyes. The events of the night replay in your mind, but there’s a strange comfort in knowing Seungcheol is there, watching over you. “You don’t have to stay,” you murmur, feeling a pang of guilt.
“I want to,” he replies softly. “Just sleep, Y/N. I’ll be here.”
As you drift off, the last thing you feel is the warmth of his hand holding yours, grounding you in the midst of the turmoil. The darkness of sleep pulls you under, but for the first time in a long while, you don’t feel completely alone.
He waits for you to fall asleep before quietly moving around the loft, gathering what’s left of your belongings.
With quick, calculated motions, he loads his things, along with yours, into the trunk and backseat of his truck. The apartment, once filled with traces of both your lives, now stands empty, its furniture the only remnants of your presence.
When he looks at the empty space one last time, he takes a deep breath, then returns to the bedroom. Gently, he lifts you into his arms, careful not to disturb your sleep.
You’re so exhausted that you don’t stir as he carries you to the truck. His eyes flicker to you now and then as he drives, taking the road that leads to the other side of the country.
Long hours later, the sun starts to rise, casting a golden hue over the landscape. You wake up, eyes still adjusting to the brightness of the day. You find yourself parked outside a roadside restaurant, the car silent. Seungcheol is nowhere to be seen. Sitting up, you notice a blanket draped over you and realize you’re fully dressed, not just in his shirt anymore.
You take a moment to gather your thoughts, fingers curling around the edges of the blanket. The sound of footsteps draws your attention, and you see Seungcheol approaching with a box of food in his hands. He opens the car door and slides into the driver’s seat, placing the food on the console between you.
“Hey,” he says softly, glancing at you. “How are you feeling?”
You blink a few times, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. “Tired,” you admit, your voice still groggy. “Where are we?”
“We’re on the road,” he replies, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I thought you could use some breakfast.” He opens the box, revealing a variety of pastries, fruit, and a couple of sandwiches.
You nod, reaching for a piece of fruit. “Thank you,” you say, taking a bite and savoring the sweet taste. “For everything.”
He watches you eat for a moment before responding. “You needed to get away from there. It’s not safe.”
“I know,” you reply, your voice soft. “But where are we going?”
“Somewhere safe,” he answers, his tone reassuring. "Somewhere, they won’t find us.”
You look at him, studying his face. There’s a determination in his eyes, a resolve that gives you a sense of security despite the uncertainty of your situation. “Okay,” you say, trusting him.
He nods, his eyes softening. “Finish eating. We’ve got a long drive ahead.”
As you pass through small towns and sprawling landscapes, a sense of peace begins to settle over you. The rhythmic hum of the truck and the steady presence of Seungcheol at your side are comforting.
You share the occasional snack with him, your fingers brushing against his lips, eliciting a small smile from him each time.
As the truck continues down the road, the cityscape starts to take shape on the horizon. Tall buildings stand proud, their windows reflecting the sun’s light. It’s a bustling place, full of life and opportunity.
It’s everything you’ve been yearning for—a fresh start, a new chapter.
After you arrive, your legs stretch as you step onto the new asphalt. You look around, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings, and ask, “Where are we?”
Seungcheol smiles, a hint of mystery in his eyes. “I’m going to show you,” he replies, leading you towards a big, white house. The house stands in stark contrast to the urban scene around it, classic and serene.
You follow him inside, and immediately, you notice people dressed in white moving about with purpose. Some are tending to children, others to elders, each room filled with an atmosphere of care and compassion. It's a place of healing and sanctuary, you realize, a refuge from the chaos you’ve just escaped.
As you walk through the house, you reach a garden at the back. The same people in white are there, playing with the children and dogs, the air filled with laughter and joy.
You notice a girl in white sitting by an easel, her fingers pressed to her temples. To your amazement, the brush on the canvas moves on its own, guided by her powers.
You stare in awe. “She’s painting without touching the brush,” you whisper, your voice filled with wonder.
Seungcheol nods. “Yes, she’s using her powers. This place is a sanctuary for people like her, like us. A safe haven where they can learn to control and use their abilities for good.”
You look around, taking in the peaceful surroundings, the sense of community and support. “It’s beautiful,” you say softly, feeling a sense of hope blossom within you.
The next stop is a small, vintage apartment where you and Seungcheol place your things. The walls are adorned with faded floral wallpaper, and the furniture has a charming, old-fashioned feel. You sit on the living room floor, surrounded by boxes, and trail off, lost in thought.
“So, you’re a hero, not a villain,” you murmur, looking up at Seungcheol.
He pauses, glancing at you with a thoughtful expression. “I guess it’s not that simple,” he says, sitting down across from you. “People see what they want to see. To some, I’m a hero. To others, I’m a villain.”
You nod, digesting his words. “But you saved me. You brought me here. That makes you a hero in my book.”
A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “I just did what needed to be done. Sometimes, the line between hero and villain isn’t so clear.”
You lean back, propping yourself up on your elbows. “It’s strange, you know? All this time, I thought I knew who the good guys and the bad guys were. But now… everything’s different.”
He nods, his eyes distant. “Life isn’t a simple story. It’s messy, complicated. People have layers, motives that aren’t always black and white.”
You turn to Seungcheol, who has laid himself out on the living room floor beside you. The gentle hum of the old radiator fills the silence between you as you finally ask the question that's been on your mind.
“Can I ask you something?” you say, glancing over at him.
He turns his head to face you, nodding slightly. “Sure. What’s up?”
“How did you meet me?” you ask, curiosity lacing your voice.
Seungcheol sighs, looking up at the ceiling. “It’s a bit of a long story,” he begins, his tone thoughtful. “I first heard you every single night in my head before I even knew where you lived. It started with your thoughts and feelings—your fears, your doubts. I heard them all.”
You blink, trying to process what he’s saying. “You heard me in your head?”
He nods. “Yeah. I didn’t know who you were at first, just that there was someone struggling. I could sense your pain and your frustration. It was like an echo in my mind.”
He pauses for a moment, then continues. “When I'vve found you, I started watching the movements in your apartment. I saw you and your boyfriend fighting—a lot. I saw the nights you were left alone...”
You shift uncomfortably, thinking about all the arguments, the hurtful words exchanged. “What did you see?”
“I saw things that were hard to watch. There were nights when your boyfriend would come home drunk, lashing out at you for no reason. I saw him bringing people over, strangers who didn’t have your best interests at heart.”
Your heart aches as you listen. “So, you were watching all of this?”
He nods. “I was. I needed to be sure of what was happening before I intervened. I couldn’t just act without understanding the full picture. He was involved in some dangerous activities, connections with people I didn’t want you to be near.”
He looks at you with a serious expression. “I knew I had to do something. It’s my job, in a way. The place I showed you before, is where people like me come from. We’re spread out across the country, helping those in need.”
You nod slowly, absorbing his words. “So, you felt like you had to save me.”
“Exactly,” he says softly. “It was more than just a job. It was a responsibility. When I saw how much you were suffering, I knew I couldn’t just stand by. I had to step in.”
As you lie there, processing everything Seungcheol has told you, it dawns on you that the man who once seemed so mysterious and distant wasn’t a villain at all. He was the one who sat on your window, smoking and wearing a black outfit, seemingly a shadowy figure.
He was the one who risked falling from a building to ensure your safety, who gathered your belongings—even your mug collection, and your… dildo—before your apartment was destroyed by an alien.
He was the man who, despite the doubts and fears, saved your life and now laid by your side as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Seungcheol’s presence beside you, so unexpectedly comforting, makes you feel secure in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. His gaze meets yours, a question in his eyes as if trying to decipher the whirlwind of thoughts running through your mind.
Unable to hold back your emotions any longer, you roll over and drape yourself across him like a koala. The sudden weight makes him emit a funny gasp. You both end up laughing, the sound filling the room with warmth. He wraps his arms around you, reciprocating the hug with a soft giggle.
“What?” he asks with a playful smile, his eyes twinkling.
You look up at him, your heart full, and press a soft kiss on his lips. Seungcheol’s eyes flutter closed, and he melts into the kiss, holding your face gently as if he’s been waiting for this moment all along.
But then, he pulls back slightly, his expression thoughtful. "Wait, no, are you sure about this? I mean, you’ve just come out of a… complicated relationship.”
You can see the concern in his eyes, the careful consideration behind his words. “I am sure,” you say softly, pressing another kiss to his cheek. “You’ve been amazing. You’re not a villain, and you’ve shown me what it’s like to be cared for.”
You move to kiss his forehead, then his neck, making him giggle again, his laughter bubbling up despite the seriousness of the conversation. He closes his eyes, savoring each tender kiss, his heart racing with every touch.
“I guess I’m just worried,” he says, his voice a mix of hesitation and affection. “You’ve been through so much. I don’t want you to think that I’m just trying to fill a void or something.”
You shake your head, placing one last kiss on his lips. “You’re not just filling a void. You’re something real and true, and I can feel it.”
“Can you… feel it?” he asks.
You smile against his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to reassure him. “Of course I can,” you reply, your voice barely a whisper.
The moment your lips meet his again, you notice his reaction is less restrained this time. His arms tighten around you, pulling you closer as if he’s afraid you might disappear. His kisses grow more passionate, each touch of his lips filled with a desperate need to communicate everything he feels.
You can taste the sweetness of his affection, feel the way he melts into you, and you respond with the same intensity. Your hands explore the familiar contours of his face, as if memorizing every detail, every emotion he's conveying.
His breath quickens, and you can feel the heat of his skin, the way his entire body seems to respond to you, to the connection that’s unfolding between you both.
He pulls away slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes locked onto yours. “You make me feel things I didn’t think I could.”
You brush your lips against his once more, a soft, tender caress. “It’s because it’s real,” you whisper. “It’s something I’ve needed for a long time.”
[...]
If you ever thought your life would change drastically, you never imagined it would be like this.
When Seungcheol left to handle his tasks for the night, it felt different. The house, though quiet, seemed fuller now.
His presence lingered in the way he had filled it with his energy, his routines, his little touches that made the space feel like more than just four walls. The absence of his constant presence was noticeable, yet somehow, it felt like a comfort.
You wandered around the house, touching things you hadn’t noticed before. There were small, personal details—like a collection of old vinyl records stacked neatly on a shelf, and a set of quirky, handmade coasters on the coffee table. They made the house feel lived in, like a real home.
In the kitchen, you found a note Seungcheol had left on the counter, scrawled in his familiar handwriting: “Pick a movie tonight. I’ll be back soon.” You smiled at the simple gesture, a small piece of normalcy in the midst of the whirlwind you’d been through.
When he arrives at the apartment, the warm aroma of dinner wafts from the stove. He glances around, noticing that the movie on the TV is paused at the very beginning. It’s strange that you’re not here; usually, you’d be curled up on the couch, waiting for him.
His eyes sweep over the space, and he hangs his jacket on a dining chair, the soft thud of the fabric against the wood mingling with the hum of the refrigerator.
A sudden noise catches his attention—an “Ah!” from somewhere in the apartment.
Seungcheol freezes, his heart rate quickening. He tilts his head, straining to hear again. The sound came from the bedroom. Curiosity and concern propel him forward as he moves cautiously toward the door.
Pushing the door open just a crack, he peeks inside. His breath catches in his throat as he takes in the scene before him.
You’re sprawled out on the bed, your legs were spread open in a way that revealed everything.
Your body glistens with a sheen of sweat, and you’re arching back, clearly horny. The vibrator, the very same one he had glimpsed in your old apartment—a sight that had piqued his curiosity—was now pressed tightly against your clit.
He could see the pleasure etched across your face, the way you bit your lip and gripped the sheets. He hesitated at the doorway, not wanting to intrude but unable to tear his eyes away from the scene unfolding before him.
The sight is so intimate, so raw, that he feels a blend of emotions—desire, awe, and a sense of protectiveness. His initial impulse is to step in, to be there for you, but he’s also painfully aware of how private this moment is.
His own breath hitches as he wrestles with the decision of whether to interrupt or simply stand back. He knows this is a vulnerable part of you, one that you might not be ready to share with him just yet.
Seungcheol takes a deep breath, his desire is real as he steps fully into the room. The bulge in his pants is a constant reminder of just how affected he is by the scene unfolding before him. But he pushes past his own need, focusing on you.
He kneels beside the bed, careful not to make any sudden movements that might pull you from your reverie. His fingers, though trembling slightly, are gentle as he reaches for the vibrator. He eases it away from your clit, the sudden absence making you gasp, a sound that’s part surprise, part frustration.
You blink rapidly, trying to catch your breath as you process his presence. Your cheeks flush a deep red. Just as you begin to open your mouth, ready to speak or perhaps to protest, Seungcheol silences you with a touch.
Without a word, he positions the vibrator back against your wetness, the cool touch of it sending you screaming on your bed. Slowly, he guides it back to your clit, applying a steady pressure as he begins to circle it.
His eyes are locked onto your every reaction, absorbing each tremor and gasp as if they were treasures.
The immediate pleasure that jolts through you is overwhelming. You clench his forearm, your grip desperate and needy as you roll your eyes back in pure, unfiltered sensation. The way he controls the vibrator, the way he’s so deliberately attentive to your body—it drives you wild.
The intensity of your arousal triples, the added thrill of Seungcheol’s touch making it feel like every nerve is on fire. You sob, the sound escaping from you as you struggle to stay grounded amidst the stimulation.
Each circle of the vibrator on your clit feels like an eternity, stretching out the sensation to a nearly unbearable edge.
Seungcheol’s gaze never wavers from you. He watches you with an intense focus and tenderness, his own breath coming in uneven puffs as he fights to keep his own desires in check.
He’s controlling your pleasure with an expert touch, making sure that each movement is precise and perfectly tuned to your reactions.
He knows you’re on the brink, and he’s both savoring and prolonging this moment for you.
The control he exerts is deliberate, his movements are carefully calculated to push you to the edge without letting you fall over just yet.
As your body writhes beneath his touch, Seungcheol’s expression softens. He can see how much you need this, how much his presence, his touch, is amplifying everything you’re feeling. It’s a heady blend of power and vulnerability, and he’s completely consumed by it.
As the waves of pleasure begin to crest, you feel your moans transforming into quieter, breathless gasps. Your body tightens, with every muscle pulling taut as you approach the brink of orgasm.
It’s right there, just a heartbeat away, when Seungcheol suddenly pulls the vibrator away. The abrupt absence of its buzzing sends a shock through you, your body jolting as you let out a delayed cry of frustration.
Seungcheol doesn’t look at you. Rather, he sets the vibrator on the bedside table as if it were a routine, doing so with practiced ease.
Then he gets to his feet and strips off his shirt, baring his chest. Your need is heightened by the sight of him, so masterful and totally devoted to you. You watch him, breathless and with wide eyes, while he dismisses your little cries of protest.
He seems determined to show you something more personal than the toy could ever offer, judging by the steady, unwavering look in his eyes.
He says, taking off his belt, “I want to see you cum for me, not for a toy.” “I want to see you cum in my mouth,” he murmurs.
You swear you see your soul leave your body just like in a cartoon,with his words. He spreads your legs wide, putting himself between them. You can almost feel the need in your body quivering with anticipation.
His mouth feels like fire when it first touches your clit; the buzzing vibrator has made you more sensitive. You gasp, your hips jerking involuntarily. His tongue is moist and warm as it hungersily probes every part of you.
You let out a deep moan as he laps at your entrance, gathering your slick and spreading it over your clit.
He sucks gently, then more firmly, his tongue flicking over your most sensitive spot in a way that has you writhing beneath him. Every nerve ending in the body is hyperaware of intense pleasure.
Your hips are held in place by Seungcheol's hands as he consumes you. You can feel the strength in his hold, the way his fingers dig into your skin just enough to anchor you. His eyes glance up at you, watching your reactions, ensuring he’s giving you exactly what you need.
“Seungcheol,” you gasp, your voice shaky. “I’m so close.”
His response is a deep hum against your clit. He intensifies his efforts, his tongue moving faster, his lips sucking harder. Your hands fly to his hair, fingers tangling in the strands as you hold on for dear life.
Every muscle in your body tightens, your breath coming in short, sharp bursts. He doesn’t let up, his focus entirely on you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
When your orgasm finally crashes over you, your back arches off the bed, a loud moan escaping your lips. Seungcheol continues to lick and suck, drawing out every last bit of your pleasure, his eyes locked on your face as you come undone.
You take a deep breath, your vision slowly clearing, and catch sight of Seungcheol gripping his cock through his boxers. The outline looks thick and big, making your mouth water at the sight of it.
“Seungcheol,” you murmur, your voice still shaky from the intensity of your orgasm. His eyes meet yours, dark and round.
“Yes?” he asks, his voice husky.
You reach out, your hand trembling slightly as you press your palm against the bulge in his boxers. He inhales sharply, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as you touch him.
“I want to make you feel good too,” you say, your voice gaining strength.
He groans softly, his restraint slipping. He helps you pull his boxers down, his erection springing free. It looks even more impressive without the fabric, flushed, throbbing, and you can’t help but lick your lips in anticipation.
You lean forward, taking him into your hand, feeling the warmth and the weight of him. He watches you, his breath hitching as you stroke him slowly.
“You’re so big,” you whisper, looking up at him.
He chuckles, the sound low and rough. “And you’re so beautiful.”
You smile. Leaning down, you place a soft kiss on the tip, tasting the salty precum. His reaction is immediate, a shudder running through his body as he groans your name.
Encouraged, you take him deeper into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the head. His hand finds your hair, not pushing, just holding you gently as you work him with your mouth.
“Just like that,” he breathes, his voice thick with pleasure. “You’re doing so well.”
You hollow your cheeks, taking him deeper, feeling the stretch in your jaw. His size is a challenge, but you’re determined to make him feel as good as he made you feel. His groans and gasps spur you on, each sound a reward for your efforts.
You bob your head, taking him as deep as you can, your hand stroking the base where you can’t reach. His hips begin to move, a slow, careful thrust that shows how close he is to losing control.
“Y/N, I’m close,” he warns, his voice strained.
You look up at him, your eyes locking with his as you continue your movements, letting him know without words that you want this. He curses softly, his grip on your hair tightening just a bit.
One thing he didn’t notice was your sneaky hand grabbing the forgotten vibrator on the bedside table. With a naughty grin, you hold the base of his cock to keep it still, then turn the vibrator on and press it against his length while your mouth sucks on his tip.
Seungcheol lets out a deep grunt, propping himself up on his elbows, his eyes closing tightly. “You little—” he curses, his voice strained. Your smirk widens at his reaction, the vibrations traveling through his body, making him shudder.
“Who’s the villain now?” you tease, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head of his cock.
His response is a strangled moan, his hips jerking slightly into your mouth. “You... you’re the villain here,” he groans, his hands gripping the sheets. “Fuck!”
The combination of your mouth and the vibrator makes his body tense. You can feel him throbbing in your hand, his muscles tightening as he gets closer to the edge.
You increase the intensity, your hand moving the vibrator up and down his length while your mouth continues its assault on his tip. His breathing becomes ragged, and he’s practically panting now, his moans growing louder with each passing second.
“Y/N, I’m gonna—” he chokes out, his voice desperate.
You let go of his tip, a knowing smirk playing on your lips as you realize you’re giving him a taste of his own medicine. The vibrator still buzzes in your hand as you reach for his cock, straddling him and slowly sinking down.
The sensation is electric—your drenched, sopping cunt engulfs him almost like a vacuum, drawing a desperate moan from his lips. His eyes flutter shut, and you can tell he’s loving it just as much as you are by the way his face contorts.
When you bottom out, Seungcheol squirms beneath you, his hands gripping your hips. He reaches for your wrist and places the vibrator on your clit, the sudden jolt of pleasure making you clench around his length.
His moan mingles with a teasing smile, his eyes dark with lust. If he wasn’t a villain before, he definitely looks like one now.
You ride his cock in circles, the vibrations on your clit making your body curl inward, your nails digging into his abdomen. The pleasure is overwhelming, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as you move faster, chasing the high that’s just within reach.
His grip on your hips tightens, guiding you as you move. “That’s it, baby,” he growls “Just like that.”
Seungcheol sneaks a hand to the vibrator and turns it to the highest level. You grunt, throwing your head back as the intense vibrations radiate through your entire body. He can feel them inside you too, the added stimulation making him groan.
“Fuck, Seungcheol!” you cry out, your voice shaking as you jump up and down on his cock. Your pussy meets his length and then his base, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room.
“Yeah, take it all, baby,” he growls, his eyes locked on yours. “Your pussy is so fucking tight around me.”
You moan louder, the dirty talk driving you wild. “Tell me more,” you gasp, craving more of his words, the filthier, the better.
He thrusts up into you, his own pleasure building as he watches you ride him. “You love this, don’t you? Being my little slut, taking my cock so well,” he says, his voice strained with the effort of speaking through his moans.
“Yes! Oh god, yes!” you reply, your movements becoming more frantic. “I love it, Seungcheol. I love being— Fuck!”
He grins. “You’re so fucking wet for me. Look at you, bouncing on my cock like a desperate little whore.”
You shiver at his words, your body responding eagerly. “Shit, Seungcheol, you feel so good inside me,” you pant. “I want to cum all over your cock.”
“Do it, baby,” he encourages, his voice rough. “Cum for me. Show me how much you love it.”
“I’m gonna cum again, Seungcheol,” you gasp, riding him faster. “I want you to cum with me.”
“Fuck, yes,” he grits out, his hands sliding up to your breasts, squeezing them. “Cum for me, baby. Let me feel you.”
“Cum inside me,” you moan, your nails digging into his chest. “Fill me up, Seungcheol.”
He thrusts up hard, matching your frantic pace. “You want my cum? You want me to fill you up?”
“Yes, please,” you beg, leaning back to get a better angle, driving him deeper. Your voice breaking with need. “I need it, Seungcheol. I need your cum.”
His grip on you tightens, and you can feel him getting close. “You’re gonna get it,” he promises, his voice rough. “I’m gonna fill you up so good, baby.”
Seungcheol presses the vibrator harder against your swollen clit, and you convulse on him, your body shaking uncontrollably from the combined sensations.
“Fuck,” he growls, “You’re creaming all over my cock. Look at you, so fucking soaked.”
You moan loudly, barely able to respond as the vibrations and his cock drive you wild. “Yes, Seungcheol,” you gasp, your voice trembling. “I’m so wet for you.”
He chuckles darkly, his eyes locked on yours as he continues to thrust upward, hitting every sensitive spot inside you. “Hm… The way you’re dripping all over me. I can feel every drop.”
Your nails dig into his shoulders as you bounce harder, trying to chase the overwhelming pleasure. “I can’t stop cumming,” you whimper. “It’s too much.”
Seungcheol’s breathing grows ragged, his gaze fixed on the way your pussy pulses around him. “That’s right. Let go for me. I want to see you lose control. You’re such a fucking mess for me.”
The pressure of the vibrator against your clit makes you cry out. “I’m cumming so hard,” you moan. “I can’t handle it.”
He grunts, his voice deep and raw. “That’s it, baby. Cream all over my cock. I love how you’re losing it. I’m gonna make you cum so fucking hard.”
Your eyes roll back. “Seungcheol,” you cry out, your body arching and trembling. “I’m gonna—”
He groans as he feels your inner muscles clench around him, the vibrations making every nerve in your body explode. “Yeah, let it all out,” he commands. “Show me how much you fucking need me.”
You convulse one last time, your vision blurring as the orgasm washes over you. Seungcheol holds you tightly, his cock still buried deep inside you as he continues to grind against your clit, making sure you get every last ounce of pleasure.
Seungcheol wastes no time, flipping you over onto all fours like you're a rag doll. The sudden shift leaves you breathless, your body pliant and obedient to his every move. He quickly turns the vibrator off and tosses it aside, not caring where it lands. His hands find your ass, squeezing and fondling your cheeks.
Without missing a beat, he thrusts his cock back inside you, abusing your sweet spot with relentless precision. You feel the sting of your skin meeting his pelvis with each strong thrust.
You bite down on the pillow, muffling your sobs as your body trembles beneath him. The orgasm still pulses through you, but now Seungcheol is fucking you through it with a ferocity that has you seeing stars.
His grip tightens on your hips, one foot propped up on the mattress to give him more leverage. The bed creaks under you, the mattress springs creaking.
His moans become whiny and throaty. You can feel him getting closer, his cock twitching inside you with every thrust, and the sight of the white ring around his shaft driving him feral.
Summoning strength you didn't know you had, you lift your head and glance over your shoulder. You need to see his 'bad boy' posture crumble.
Seungcheol's face is a picture of raw emotion, his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth open in a silent cry. His expression is utterly shattered, as if he's about to break down and cry like a boy.
The sight of him like this, so helpless and undone, makes you squeeze harder around him. The reaction is immediate—Seungcheol's eyes roll back, and his hips slam into yours, grinding deep as he reaches he orgasms.
You feel the warmth of his cum filling you completely. He groans as he cums harder than ever before, his hips twitching with each spurt. The room is loaded with the sounds of his heavy breathing and the wet, obscene noises of your bodies joined together.
He stays buried inside you for a moment, savoring the sensation of your bodies connected, his cum still dripping from where he's filled you to the brim.
Seungcheol sleeps soundly, like a baby, his face peaceful and unburdened. In that moment, it doesn't matter who he is or where he is; his mind is completely consumed by thoughts of you.
The room is quiet, the only sound being your synchronized breaths. Exhausted and spent, you don't even have the strength to clean up. You sleep without a care, even as his cum slowly drips down your thighs.
[...]
Morning breaks gently, the soft light of dawn seeping through the curtains. Seungcheol stirs, his senses gradually returning to him. But something feels off. He blinks his eyes open, expecting to see you lying beside him. Instead, he’s met with a sight that jolts him fully awake.
You’re floating.
Your body is hovering a few inches above the bed, suspended in mid-air. Your eyes are wide with shock, mirroring his own as you both take in the surreal scene.
“Seungcheol,” you whisper, your voice tinged with panic. “Lower me down.”
He scrambles out of bed, his mind racing to process what he’s seeing. Without hesitation, he reaches out, his hands gently guiding you back down to the bed. The moment your body touches the mattress, the floating sensation ceases, leaving you both staring at each other in stunned silence.
You sit up slowly, your hands trembling slightly as you brush your hair back. “Wasn’t the injection supposed to last only for a few hours?” you ask.
Seungcheol, still healing from the sight of you floating, nods slowly. “Yeah, that’s what they said. But…maybe there’s more to it. Maybe it’s affected you in ways we didn’t expect.”
“So, does this mean you can fuck me while I'm floating in mid-air?”
Seungcheol's eyes widen, his cheeks flushing a deep red. He laughs, a surprised sound escaping his lips as he runs a hand through his hair, clearly caught off guard by your audacity.
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