#what on earth happened to this man 😭

[rexscanonwife]

The horrors persist, but then so does the love 🫶

[songtwo]

people r insane the way they get mad over two people in a healthy relationship spending time together 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[joelsgoldrush]

“GUILTY PLEASURE” | 8.6k

logan howlett x fem!reader

“I want this like a cigarette / Can we drag it out and never quit?” Guilty Pleasure by Chappell Roan

SUMMARY: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.

WARNINGS/TAGS: smut - mdni 18+ fluff, angst, drinking, dirty talk, slow-burnish, grumpy!logan x sunshine!reader, reader is really kind but cracks a lot of jokes, age gap (25 vs 200 - they’re basically the same age), oral sex (f receiving), fingering, finger sucking, soft dom!logan, wade being the funniest asshole, logan calls reader "kiddo/kid"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: HI! first of all, i'd like to thank you for all the support you showed me on my recent post. let me just tell you that i’m LOVING writing for logan. but none of this would be possible without YOU, so yeah, i fucking love y’all.

** regarding this story, i was planning on making it even longer, but writing these two has been so much fun, and i didn’t want it to end just like that (i have attachment issues as you may infer from this note). therefore, i’ve made the decision to write a second part to this fic, which will contain fluff and other stuff (you already know the drill). i don’t know when i’ll be posting it, but i’m sure it won’t take me that long.

*** i’m also working on other one shots (purely fluff/domesticity because i want this man to cradle me in his arms). anyway, i don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but still, all I have to say is THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORKS! i hope you really like this silly story i made up :)

**** english is not my first language so if you come across any mistakes don’t hesitate to tell me :)

special recognition to @zloshy who allowed me to rant about my own fic 😭 the sweetest human ever

The bar is far from packed, but then again, it never truly is.

Studying your regulars has become your favorite hobby. Soon you end up knowing their names, the drinks they like, and what time they come through the door. It’s what happens when standing on your own two feet and refilling glasses lose all their charm. A part of you thinks you also do it to make them feel safe. No matter how much you try to deny it, you truly care about their well-being.

Is this your dream job? Nope. Definitely not. You’re pretty sure that holding some stranger’s hair while they empty their insides wasn’t on your bingo card for this year. But sadly money doesn’t grow on trees, and university isn’t going to pay itself. Plus, this was the only job in which your resume was not immediately rejected. It should also be stressed that the drunks happen to love you. 

Perhaps this isn’t the life you had always imagined for yourself, but you were getting closer to it. You’d often talk to Adam, a retired psychologist in his seventies. He was without a doubt one of the most loyal clients you’d ever encountered. In the past, he’d even given you free advice on some of your failed hookups. You once told him that in less than two years, you’d be just like him when you got your degree in Psychology. To your surprise, he replied: “You’ll be much better than me, doll. I’m a mess, can’t you see it? You don’t wanna be like me,” his voice was hardly above a whisper as he continued. “I should be at my daughter’s birthday right now, but I didn’t get an invitation this year. Believe me, you don’t want to end up like this old man.” 

Like Adam, most of the men who frequented the bar day-to-day saw it as an opportunity to hide within the shadows. In comparison to the other pubs in the area, the one you work at doesn’t receive that much attention from the general public. A dimly lit place where only music from the 80s is allowed. You’re certain that if a health inspector ever came down here, you’d be in serious problems. But hey, you know what they say: do not worry about tomorrow; instead, live in the now.

The atmosphere of the bar shifts dramatically as the main door slams shut with a resounding thud, pulling you abruptly out of your daydreaming. You turn to see who’s arrived, but as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re compelled to look away. Nevertheless, the brief glance you catch of the stranger’s features is enough for you to unlock your phone and send a quick text to your best friend. 

You:

cutie patootie alert

there’s this really handsome guy at the bar

i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before

i think i’m in love with him

my night just got a 100% better

Allison:

age

what does he look like

is he bald?

You:

he looks like he could be in his early fifties??? it’s hard to tell UGH i wish you were here

brown hair, beard, 6’2 if i’m not wrong 

i didn’t stare at him for too long

otherwise that would’ve been very weird

and no he’s not fucking bald

that happened only once and i was not aware of that gentleman’s lack of hair 

Allison:

so you’re dating retired now

get it grandma!

You:

oh fuck you allison 

Allison: 

it’s okay girl we all have our flaws

just make sure it’s nobody’s father

wait it’s not mine right?

You:

nah your dad’s way hotter don’t you worry about it

Allison:

bitch 

Even with the music blasting through the speakers that are attached to the ceiling, you can still hear the low murmur and the whispers. The mysterious stranger seems to have attracted the attention of the other patrons, some of whom have even raised their phones to take photos. Your eyebrows draw together. Why would they do something like this, approaching the man as if he were a celebrity? Since curiosity never fails to kill the cat, you decide to get involved.

“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” you hear him ask the crowd, his raspy voice making your knees wobbly. He sounds enraged. You step on your tiptoes, trying to see what all the fuss is about, albeit it’s pretty hard considering how these men are caging him with their bodies.

The glow of a phone’s flashlight catches your attention, and suddenly, a chair is dragged without much elegance. “Enough of that, y’hear me?”

Enter you now. “Okay, gentlemen, I’m sorry. I’m gonna need you to make some space for me, alright?” you mumble as you gently push them aside. “Thank you, thank you. Y’all can be real sweethearts when you put your minds to it.”

Then you spot him, and it becomes clear why everyone is making such a fuss. 

Gary, your worst client ever, steps forward. His nasty breath clouds your senses as he rests one of his sweaty hands on your shoulder. “Doll, it’s the fucking Wolverine. Don’t ask him for a picture, though. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for that.”

The last thing you needed to see today was a fight (despite your knowledge of who would be the winner). You locate yourself amidst them, shaking your head like a disappointed mother, so as to add a tiny bit of drama to the situation.

“Guys, what you’re doing here is completely inappropriate. I thought I’d taught you better. Imagine if I were to pull this crap on you. You wouldn’t have it.”

Adam presses his lips together, flushing a bit. “She does have a point.” 

“Thank you, peanut. You’re still my favorite,” you flash him an honest smile. Scrutinizing the rest of the men, you continue with your speech. “You can still make up for it and fill my tip jar all the way to the top. Deal?” they all scoff, barking their disagreement. “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that? Then leave him alone, okay? Class dismissed! Back to your places,” you clap your hands repeatedly, signaling them to go away. “Chop chop. All this alcohol won’t be drinking itself.”

Just like that, everything goes back to normal in the blink of an eye. Wolverine sits back down in his chair, leaning closer to the table and resting both elbows on it. He examines you, lifting his chin while his brown eyes take in every inch of you.

“Thank you,” he utters, his eyes still trained on your features. 

“No need to. It’s what I’m here for,” you point to your work clothes, which consist of an antiqued apron and a silly sticker that has your name written on it. “Can I get you anything to drink? It’s also Burger Night. You can get one for half the usual price.”

(No. It’s not fucking Burger Night. You just happen to find yourself deeply attracted to him.)

He doesn’t seem too eager to hear you talk. “Not hungry at the moment. But I could use some whiskey.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, kid. Very sure.” Well, now he does look annoyed.

“Great. I’ll be back in a minute,” you move as if you were in a race, returning to him after a hot minute. Setting his glass down on the table, you fill it with some old whiskey you don’t even know the name of. Still, he omits that detail, gulping down two-fingers of whiskey as if it were water. “I see you’re thirsty.”

“Could you leave the bottle here?” those brown puppy eyes are begging you to do as he says, and although you’d be happy to oblige, rules are rules. 

“Actually, I can’t. The bottle stays on the counter. But you can always join me at the front,” your proposal doesn’t appear to have the desired effect on him. “I won’t talk to you if that’s what you want.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he rubs his neck, drawing a long breath as he stands up. 

You can feel many pairs of eyes searing into your soul. The others ask you for more drinks and you pour them, pricking up your ears when you hear them talking about him.

“What a weirdo. Didn’t you see it on TV? He’s not even from this universe,” Gary explains, looking for accomplices to hate on Wolverine. “Let me tell y’all something: he shouldn’t even be here. He’s fucking dead on this earth.”

Yeah… that you knew.

It had been all over the news for weeks. Some would even swear that he was back from the dead, but that was until the representatives from the TVA spoke their truth. If someone would’ve told you a month ago that multiple universes were a thing, you would’ve laughed in their face.

As if that weren’t already difficult to process, your mind does the job of reminding you that there’s a man with metal claws sitting a few meters away from you. Despite that, you can’t seem to be scared of him. There’s something magnetic about his personality and that don’t-come-near-me-or-there-will-be-consequences expression that he has. Why had you promised not to speak to him? Dammit.

“I can hear your thoughts,” a muscle in his jaw twitches after knocking back another glass of whiskey. He squeezes his eyes shut before tapping the table with two fingers, silently asking for a refill.

“I thought you didn’t want me to talk,” you raise one of your eyebrows, and you behold how the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. “I can assure you your liver hates you.”

“Alcohol won’t kill me, so don’t be afraid. Keep ‘em coming.”

For nearly twenty minutes, he does nothing but drink. He attempts to light a cigar at some point, and you stop him. “You can’t smoke in here.”

“No special treatment?” he inquires, placing the cigar between his parted lips and tilting his head back. He’s so… dreamy. He has to know it.

“I saved your ass today. The least you can do is not cause me any trouble.”

His eyes widen at your words, blinking owlishly. “You saved my what?”

“Your goddamn ass. You were about to start a fight.”

“Blame the idiots you have for clients,” he says, jerking his thumb toward your direction. “I was just mindin’ my own business. They came for me, not the other way around.”

“Look, Wolvie. I–”

“Wolvie?” giving a bitter laugh, he rams a hand through his hair. “That’s the worst nickname I’ve heard in a long time,” he looks at you through his lashes, getting rid of his leather jacket. “It’s Logan.”

“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”

You succeed in making him laugh once again. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to observe his face without feeling like you were just about to get caught. He has deep creases and worry lines etched between his eyebrows, a brown beard that perfectly frames his jaw, and a few white hairs scattered in his sideburns. Pearly teeth that go hand in hand with one of the most impeccable smiles you’ve ever seen, and a pair of brown eyes that make you feel weak in the knees. You know for a fact that he’s a lot older than you; his exact age remains a mystery, but his appearance is enough for you to start fantasizing.

Shit, you want him. You should feel sickened by the mere thought of being with him. He was born God knows when, has lived hundreds of years. Still, the idea of tracing his cheekbones with your fingers while lying on his chest doesn’t leave you. This is fucked up. You are fucked up. A fucked up Psychology student. The joke is pretty much self-explanatory.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, you preening slut. Can’t even bother to answer my calls now?”

The tension between you shatters like a glass dropped onto the floor. He doesn’t dare to look in the direction of the owner of that voice, not even as the seat next to him gets taken. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Wade, what the hell are you doin’ here?”

“It hasn’t been exactly easy, raising our kid on my own. I don’t even have money to hire a babysitter, Lo. I spent nine months carrying your child, and for what? You end up going after a bartender,” the masked man turns to you, giving a sly wink. “No offense, baby. You must be a real sweetheart. In fact, do you want my number? The name’s Wade, but you can call me whatever you like.”

“You dumb fuck. Are you flirtin’ with her?”

“No shit, smartass. You’re the future of this country.”

A soft giggle escapes you despite your attempt to hold it back. You take a step back, admiring the two men. “Well, aren’t you two a beautiful couple?”

“You should see our little munchkin. He’s got my eyes and Logan’s hair. His first word was gubernatorial.”

“Would you like to have a drink while you’re here?”

“A beer would be great. Thank you, sugarbear. You’re the cutest,” Wade sinks back into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. He jerks his head in Logan’s direction, bumping his shoulder. “She’s the cutest. Are you two together?”

Logan rubs his forehead, speaking through gritted teeth. “How did you find me?”

“It's the power of love, baby. I had It’s All Coming Back To Me Now on repeat for hours. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Handing Wade a cold beer, your eyes scan Logan’s face. “I didn’t know patience was your strongest suit.”

“Me neither.”

“Enough of that! I can’t stand not being included in a conversation,” Wade throws his hands in the air, and you look at him. “There you are. So, what about you? Are you even allowed to be here? Did bars change their policies?”

You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”

Wade looms closer, lowering his voice. “Now that I think about it, you could totally be Logan’s caretaker. He’s been having some issues recently, given his age. Do you… know anything about adult diapers?”

But then Logan’s face contorts, turning crimson. He rises from his seat, grabbing Wade’s arm. “That’s it. We’re leavin’,” his eyes lock on you for a moment. “How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

The things you’re willing to do for a man, right? You should be ashamed of yourself.

(But you aren’t.)

His mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Kiddo, are you–”

“Completely sure,” you finish his sentence for him, bowing your head and clasping your arms behind your body. A tight-lipped smile takes over you. “Just don’t tell my boss.”

Wade shifts his gaze back and forth between Logan and you. “I usually don’t mind third-wheeling, but I sort of feel left out.”

“I’m gonna sew your mouth shut, Wade.”

“Oh, come on! I was just making small talk,” the masked man tries to excuse himself while Logan pushes him towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you, sunshine. I’m free on Thursdays. Hit me up if his whiskey dick fails to impress you! Mine’s way more agile and young!”

As you watch them leave the bar, you remain frozen in your place amidst the clamor of ongoing chatter and clinking glasses.

What the fuck had just happened?

“Patrick’s normally the first one to get wasted during weekends,” you explain to the blonde woman sitting in front of you, and she writes that information down in her notebook. “He can usually handle himself, but at some point, he’ll try to call his ex-wife, and that’s when you know you need to stop serving him.”

She clicks her tongue, the color draining out of her face. “This is… definitely a lot to remember. I think I already forgot half of what you said.”

You shake your head, shoving your hands in your pockets. “You’ll get used to it, believe me. I’ll be with you at all times, so if you have any doubts, just ask me.”

After a whole year of working solo at the bar, you finally get to have a coworker: Gwen, a mother of two teenagers in her forties. You had met her at the grocery store, and in the process of helping her find a specific brand of cookies, you found out that she had recently lost her job. One thing led to another, and now she’s your trainee.

Your savior complex strikes again!

It has been four days since your first encounter with Logan. The thought that he could show up at any moment makes your heart race and your hands sweat. Allison had received countless voice messages where you narrated the entire experience in full detail. 

Touching your arm softly, Gwen’s face lights up. “Another man came in. Is he a regular? I don’t think you told me about him.”

Fuck, it’s him. Manifesting does work wonders. He locks eyes with you and raises a hand in greeting.

“Leave this one to me,” you tell her as your feet take you to where Logan’s sitting, contemplating the way in which his leather jacket hugs his wide frame. “Long time no see.”

“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Nobody has puked yet, so that’s a good thing,” you crinkle your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Whiskey?”

“You know me so well,” a smirk takes place in his lips, and he smiles cockily. “Though this time, I won’t be leavin’ without payin’.”

“We’ll see about that,” you go back to your usual spot behind the counter, looking for a glass. Your cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so hard. Next to you, Gwen studies your reaction to seeing Logan. “Is that your boyfriend?”

You almost drop the whiskey bottle. “God, no. He’s not my boyfriend. Barely know the guy.”

“It’s funny,” she says, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look, as if she knows something you don’t. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since he arrived.”

“It’s probably because of this,” you reply, lifting the bottle in her direction before pouring a small amount into a glass. Just as you’re about to walk over to him, a girl slides into the sit beside him, her long blonde hair swept up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a stunning red dress and black heels. You wonder if she’s a model, because she certainly looks like one.

Her hand creeps up his arm, fingernails scraping against the worn leather. Although Logan’s expression is hard to read, he doesn’t even flinch.

“You know what? Here’s his drink– You take care of it. I’ll stay here,” you don’t give Gwen a chance to talk back, instead staying behind the bar, engaging in small talk with other clients. 

“Doll, are you okay?” Adam asks you after noticing you struggling to open a beer bottle. He takes it from your hands and opens it with ease. “There you go.”

“Thank you, Adam. I’m fine, never been better. Why you ask?

“You sure?”

“Affirmative.”

“You mixed up our drinks,” he explains in his most psychologist-like voice. “This never happens to you. Michael has my wine, and I’ve got his martini.”

“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I just— I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you chew on your bottom lip, rubbing your temples. “I feel stupid.”

“Oh, please. Don’t say that. You’re far from being stupid,” he sits up straight, reaching for your fingers and giving them an apologetic squeeze. “If you ask me, I think you’ve got your mind on someone else,” he must notice how you visibly get tense because he adds: “Remember: I know when you’re lying. You didn’t charge him the other day, which means that you must really like him,” taking a tentative sip of the martini he didn’t even ordered, Adam shrugs. “I’m a great observer. That’s all.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blonde girl from before returning to where her friends are chatting. Logan is left alone, and you watch him grab his glass and head towards the counter.

“As I said, your mind’s somewhere else,” Adam sighs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. “Go get your man. I’ll survive.”

“Not my man. But thanks, older-and-wiser-version-of-cupid.”

Pretending not to have seen Logan, you continue with your work. He remains silent for some minutes before finally saying: “Hi.”

Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.

“Hey, claws,” you force a smile, still avoiding to meet his gaze. “Do you need anything?”

Logan points to his empty glass, like a toddler asking for more cereal. “I also wanted to talk to you.”

“I thought you were busy over there,” you say, surprisingly managing to sound nonchalant, despite the jealousy bubbling underneath your friendly tone. “Did you get her number?”

“What? No.”

“Why not? She’s cute.”

Yeah, maybe you don’t sound as collected as you think.

Whether Logan notices it or not, he chooses not to mention it. He folds his arms over his chest, fixing his brown eyes on you. “I’m not interested.”

“And what is it that interests you, champ?” your question elicits a low chuckle from him. Just as he opens his mouth to seemingly reply, Gwen appears out of nowhere to ask you about the price of a certain drink. Your gaze shifts between her and Logan, who remains focused on you while sipping his drink.

After that, Gwen leaves. The man in front of you goes poker-faced, pursing his lips, and his abrupt change in demeanor alarms you. “Wade wants to have dinner tomorrow at his apartment– well, our apartment. I live with him now. It’s complicated,” he adds with a dismissive wave of his hand, and you laugh. “Anyway, he asked me to tell you that you’re invited. I know we don’t know each other that much, but… he said you seem like someone worth havin’ around,” he mumbles awkwardly, eyes downcast. “I think the same as well.”

You could die at peace.

“You’re a lucky fucker because I don’t work on Sundays,” you quip, smiling. “I’d be more than happy to attend your feast.”

“Great. I thought you would turn down the invitation.”

“Now why would you think that?”

“‘Cause you barely know me– us,” he corrects himself rapidly. “Plus, Wade’s annoying as hell when he puts his mind to it. You’ll see.”

“Marital problems?” he actually in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Oh, I’ll bring the dessert.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I do want to,” you tilt your head in an effort to hide your longing for him.

“Just want to get under my skin, huh? I can see why Wade likes you,” Logan beams, reaching out to tuck a $100 bill into the pocket of your apron. “The tip’s included.”

“I don’t know how things work in your universe, but you’re giving me way more money than you’re supposed to. I can't accept this.”

“Oh, but you will,” his gravelly voice fucks your system up, and you’re glad he can’t see how you squeeze your legs together behind the bar.

He writes down Wade’s address on a random napkin, holding his breath as he stands up. “I should get goin’. See you tomorrow then.”

Before he walks out the door, you stop him. “Logan? You didn’t answer my other question.”

His back shakes momentarily with laughter. Turning around to face you, his stare leaves you even more confused. “Good night, doll.”

This is becoming a habit: every time he goes away, you feel as though you’ve just run a marathon with no water available. Your mouth is completely dry, your fingers are numb and there’s a knot in your stomach that’s becoming all too familiar.

“Would you mind telling me where you got him?” Gwen’s voice makes you almost jump out of your skin.

“He’s not from around here. I think he’s Canadian.”

You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.

Knocking softly on Wade’s door, you step back, the container holding the tiramisu cold to your touch. It’s your first time trying out this recipe, so you’re expecting it to at least not taste like shit.

Wade answers the apartment door, acting surprised when you remain silent. “Well, look what the wind blew in: if it isn’t my husband’s lover. How dare you? We’re still going to couples therapy.”

You show him the container, and he squints at it. “Tiramisu. You want it or not?”

“I hate twenty-somethings,” he says with a defeated sigh, stepping aside to let you into the apartment. 

Leaving your purse on the nearest surface, you scan the living room, wondering where Logan might be. There’s a small mirror beneath the couch, and you check yourself for the hundredth time tonight. “Don’t get too excited. He’s still showering,” Wade’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows knitted. “Yeah. I noticed. You’re already drooling over that big piece of metal between his legs.”

“Keep quiet!” you cover his mouth with your palm, noticing the scarred state of his skin up close. “Wade, you fucking dog. Are you licking my hand?”

“Couldn’t help it. You taste like mascarpone cheese and espresso.”

Then Logan emerges from the bathroom, with only a white towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water fall from his wet hair, tracing the muscle of his abs, ending somewhere beneath his happy trail. Your eyes keep flickering between him and his torso until he clears his throat. “I thought you were comin’ later.”

“Me too, but I…,” you trail off, your brain struggling to catch up, “I didn’t know what else to do at my place.”

“It’s fine. Just– let me put on some clothes.”

“Please don’t,” Wade murmurs next to you, but Logan only scoffs. “I was just being honest. Communication is key.”

When Wade and you are alone again, he lets out a harsh breath. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My pants are really tight right now.”

“Thin walls, buddy!” Logan shouts from his bedroom, earning a laugh from you. 

Like A Prayer starts playing. Wade moves his hips to the beat, getting lost in the melody. “Is that your phone?”

“Yeah, but I always take a few seconds to dance to it. Such a banger!” he says, then picks up his phone, accepting the call. “Hey, Ness! What´s up?” Wade covers the speaker before telling you: “It’s Vanessa. My ex-girlfriend. We fuck once a week, sometimes even twice.”

From behind, Logan nudges your arm with his, looking at you. ”Hey, kid.”

“No, I’m not busy at all,” Wade exclaims, grabbing his crotch and thrusting into the air. “I’ll be there in ten, cupcake. See you,” he spreads his arms wide and whistles. “Someone’s getting laid tonight!”

“You made me come all the way here… and now you’re leaving?”

“What? My friend Wolverine wanted to invite you over. I just had to provide the apartment,” in one quick movement, he presses a kiss to your cheek, then does the same to Logan. “Shave yourself, will you?”

“Go fuck yourself, will you?”

“Love you too, honey. Hope you two lovebirds have a good night, because I know I will!”

Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before heading out, the apartment going dead silent. Logan and you stand frozen, staring at each other, although he quickly drops his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. A giggle threatens to escape you: he wanted to see you. Could he possibly enjoy your company as much as you enjoy his?

Logan watches the spot where Wave had just been. The absence of his chaotic energy makes the room feel strangely empty now. He coughs lightly, the sound awkwardly loud in the quiet room.

“So... I, uh, bought pizza,” he says, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to cover up his nervousness. Averting his eyes, he focuses on the pizza boxes on the table.

You catch the hesitation in his tone, your curiosity piqued by his discomfort. Tilting your head, a teasing smile forms on your lips. “Pizza, huh? You sure know how to impress a girl.”

Logan chuckles, the sound strained, as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I figured it was a safe choice. Didn’t want to ruin it, y’know?”

You move closer to the table, the warmth from the pizza boxes radiating against your hands as you open one of them. The rich smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills the air, a comforting scent that makes your stomach growl softly. “Thank you. I’m a big fan of pizza.”

He sits in the chair across from you, taking a bite of his slice. You watch him quietly, your own thoughts churning. The truth of his origins had been a shock at first, but now, it just made you want to know more about the man. What was his life like in the other universe? Did he miss it? Was he happier here, or was he longing to return?

“Logan…,” you begin, your tone gentle but probing, “Can I ask you something?”

He glances up at you, eyes widening. There’s something in your eyes –an understanding, maybe– that makes him feel like you could see right through him. 

“Sure,” he replies, trying to sound more at ease than he really feels. “Ask away.”

You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to push too hard. “I was wondering... would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About, you know, your life. Where you're from.”

The bite of pizza suddenly feels heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t talked much about his world, not even with Wade. Partly because it was too painful, and partly because he wasn’t sure how to explain how things turned out for him. He nods slowly, setting his slice down. “Yeah, it's okay. I’ll answer what I can.”

“I just... I want to understand you better.”

“Well, first and foremost, I’m no hero. You should know that by now.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Kid, I’m the worst Logan. A complete failure. Of all the variants out there, Wade just had to pick the one despised by every living soul on his earth,” Logan looks away, his voice low and heavy. You’re wondering if doing this was a good idea. “I need a drink.”

He gets up and you follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge, in search of a cold beer. Meanwhile, you attempt to find the right words. “I don’t think–”

With a sharp flick of his wrist, three metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. A gasp catches in your throat as he uses his claws to pierce the beer can, drinking from the punctured holes. Once he’s done, he goes back to staring at you. Your gaze, on the other hand, is still glued to the now-empty beer can. “What?” he asks, exhaling slowly.

“That was completely unnecessary,” you mutter, and he lets out a bitter chuckle, tossing the can into the trash. “But, back to what you said before– I don’t think you’re the worst Logan.”

“You didn’t know me back then, darlin’. I fucked it up,” he leans against the counter, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Like the Logan from this universe, I once belonged to the X-Men too. I remember that Scott used to beg me to wear my suit. So did Jean, Storm, Beast– All of them,” his gaze grows more distant, and you can tell that memories are flooding his mind. “Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t do it. Told them they looked fucking ridiculous.”

The pizza’s long forgotten. You take the risk and get a bit closer to him, your eyes never leaving his. 

Logan’s silence stretches for a moment before he speaks again. “One day, while I was off on my own, the humans came. They went mutant hunting.”

Your heart clenches at the pain in his voice. He still remembers everything as if it had happened yesterday. “I can guess the rest. You don’t have to–”

But he cuts you off. “No, let me say it. I need to say it,” he takes a deep breath, lowering his head. “By the time I stumbled home, shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. They called after me and I walked away.”

Reaching out, your hand gently brushes against his. He doesn’t pull away, but instead searches for your eyes. “My suit's all I've got to remind me of who they were. What I did. I found them and they were… dead. I started killing, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I turned the whole world against the X-Men.”

You tighten your grip on his hand, knowing there’s nothing you can do to change how he feels. “You’re not a bad person, Logan,” he shakes his head, mumbling something you can’t quite catch. “I mean it. What happened back then doesn’t define you. You took the blame for their deaths upon yourself. I can tell you loved them deeply, and I’ll never fully understand the pain you feel. I wish I could. I wish I could take it away, make you forget somehow, but I can’t. That’s not how life works. But you got your second chance: you saved this world. My world,” gently cupping his face in your hands, you allow your fingers to caress his cheeks. He leans into your touch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my hero. I’m your biggest fan– after Wade, obviously, which is a lot to say.”

He grins, letting out a laugh. “Easy there, bub.”

“Should I give you some space?”

That’s the last thing he wants from you right now. You already know that as he looks you up and down, placing his hands on the small of your back, his thumbs drawing small circles on your skin. There’s no turning back– The warmth between you feels almost like a fever dream. “For a long time, all I wanted was to disappear. I couldn’t stand waking up every morning, knowing that another day awaited me.”

“And what happened?” your breath mingles with his, his closeness becoming nearly intoxicating. “What changed?”

“I met a pretty girl at a pub, that’s what happened,” he murmurs, his dilated pupils flicking up to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”

“God, do you ever shut up?”

You don’t have time to respond because he kisses you there and then. His stubble scrapes your skin as your mouths meet again and again, needy hands that hold you as if you were prone to breaking. Logan licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and swallowing every one of your whimpers.

“So this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?” he murmurs against your lips. You can feel him smiling, and it makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Keep talking and you won’t get a single bite of my tiramisu,” you tease him, kissing him again, the taste of beer numbing your senses. “I really like kissing you.”

“The feeling’s mutual, but now that you’ve mentioned that tiramisu…”

“Am I that easily replaced?”

“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”

Jokes aside, you’re as happy as a clam.

Since that night you and Logan kissed, you’ve been living your best life. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush. Some things never seem to change.

He hasn’t been to the bar in three days. Yes, you’re counting them. No, you haven’t lost your mind. You want to see him, but there’s something about making the first move that gives you the chills. What would his reaction be if you showed outside of apartment?

It’s been a long time since you’ve been with anybody. On top of that, all the guys you’ve dated were your age. Being with someone that older than you certainly wasn’t no your plans. You’d be lying if you said that the mere idea of being with him in that way didn’t excite you.

Oh boy, you miss him. You miss his scruffy voice, his gorgeous hair. And you two aren’t even official yet. To be honest, you don’t even know what he wants from you. Is he even the type to be in a relationship?

“Nighty night, gentlemen,” you say to Gary and his friends as you find yourself in front of them, smoothing your apron. Gwen had called in sick tonight, so it’s just you at the bar babysitting a bunch of grown-men.

“What’s up, doll? You’ve forgotten about us. We miss you coming in here to chat,” Gary’s eating his burger at the same time he speaks, something you find repulsive, but you’ve seen worse. “Y’know, I’d love to take you out someday. I have a place you’d like.”

The other men laugh and punch him in the back, just boosting his ego. Pathetic. 

“I’ll let you know when I’m free,” you reply with the most polite smile you can offer, intending to go on. “What are you having tonight?”

“You always pull that shit, baby. I don’t think you’re so busy that you can’t accept a date.”

You hate the way he’s looking at you, as if you were wrong for not being interested. As if you didn’t know any better.

“You’re reading minds now? Shocking, Gary.”

“Oh, doll. That attitude of yours shows you’ve never been with a real man like me, that’s all,” he leans back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the table and the other one near his crotch, manspreading. “It’s alright. I like you bratty.”

“I’ll be back when you finally have something to order,” you attempt to turn around but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. Your eyes lock, and he seems to enjoy this: being in control. Like a predator hunting his prey. “Come on, Gary. I don’t want to have to kick you out.”

“It’s not that you don't like me, right? You’ve already got your mouth full.”

“Careful.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re not fucking that useless mutant. I see you like ‘em older. Pretty little things like you drive me wild.”

You laugh in his face, showing him your teeth. “It was never about your age, Gary. You’re right: I do like them older. I’m just not into bald, vertically-challenged pricks.”

His entourage of idiots goes silent after that. He looks up at you, eyes burning with hatred. His grip on your wrist tightens, probably leaving a mark. “Fucking bitch.”

“Get your hands off her.”

Logan’s voice forces the two of you to look in his direction. It seems that he’s just arrived at the pub, his jacket still on. 

“You joining us? We’re just getting started here, big boy.”

“Did you not hear me?” Logan lunges forward, his nose almost touching Gary’s. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Easy there, cowboy. I’m just having a chat with your girl. She’s one of the good ones, I’ll give you that,” arching a sly brow, his forehead puckers. “You don’t like sharing? We can even take turns.”

Logan clenches his jaw, lips set in a grim line. “Say one more word, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I’ll give you a full sentence instead: can you even get it up?” 

The tension in the air is thick, every second stretching out as Logan's anger simmers dangerously close to the surface. Gary’s smug grin only makes it worse, pushing him to the edge. Before you can react, Logan’s fist swings forward, connecting with Gary’s jaw with a sickening crack. Gary staggers back, realising your wrist. Blood seeps from his nose, his white shirt becoming stained with it. “You fucker! You broke my nose!”

“We’re just getting started here, big boy,” Logan mocks him, repeating his previous words.

“Stop!” you shout, moving quickly to grab his arm, trying to pull him back. But he’s beyond hearing, his rage blinding him to everything else. He shakes you off, and with a fierce growl, drives another punch into Gary’s stomach. The latter doubles over, gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him. He then falls to the floor, curling into a ball. People start to gather around you, and soon your beloved bar becomes a box ring.

“That’s enough, Logan! He’s barely conscious,” you murmur under your breath, stepping between them, hands up in a desperate attempt to create some space. Logan pauses, chest heaving, fists still clenched, as he finally looks at you. The wildness in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a dawning realization of what he’s done.

“He deserved it,” he nods vigorously to himself, as if trying to explain his point. “He was hurting you.”

“If you keep that up, you’re going to kill him. My bar is not a fucking cemetery,” your voice trembles a little bit, expecting to talk some sense into him. “I won’t let you do this.”

The room is quiet now, the only sound being Logan’s heavy breathing as he stands there, still tense, still processing. You turn to Gary’s friends, cold fury in your eyes. “Get him out of here,” you watch as they haul him up, practically dragging him to the door. The other clients continue to stare at Logan, their mouths hanging open. “Everybody out, right now! Go home. We’re closing earlier tonight.”

Adam is the last person to leave, slamming the door behind him. You rush to the counter, searching for a mop to clean the fresh blood off the floor. Still agitated, the images of Logan hitting Gary flash in your mind. He approaches you from behind, his fingers circling your forearm. “Bub–”

“Don’t. Now is not the time.”

“I was protecting you.”

“I told you to stop, and you didn’t. You just shook me off,” you snap, glancing at his knuckles which are not even bruised. Slamming your eyes shut, you get to your feet and wash your hands in the sink, the remaining water becoming reddish for a moment.

Logan moves closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms lazily around your middle section. ”I’m sorry.”

You turn in his arms, your back flushed against the sink and your nose in the air. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I don’t have a phone.”

“But– Jesus, Logan. You could’ve come sooner. I thought you regretted what happened the other day,” you say and the muscles in his face twitch, his body stiffening at your words. “Thought you no longer wanted me.”

“No, bub. I– I still want you. I want all of you, trust me,” he murmurs, and you allow him to press his body against yours, the scent of the cigar he must have smoked recently enveloping your senses. “I just… don’t know how to do this. I have a habit of ruining things, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to be with you without hurting you.”

“Pushing me away also hurts,” your eyes flick up to meet his gaze again, and he whispers under his breath. “I can’t read your mind. You need to tell me what’s going on in that ancient skull of yours.”

His face falters, flashing you a mischievous look. His hand creeps under the fabric of your shirt, fingernails scrapping against your spine. “I’m sorry, princess. I truly am.”

“You can’t just say ‘sorry’ with that voice and expect me to–”

You’re cut off by his lips crashing down onto yours. You melt into the kiss, unable to deny what your body has been craving for the past days. 

“I thought your kisses came with a warning,” you say, detaching your mouth from his, a smile spreading uncontrollably in your face as you see his toothy grin.

“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”

In a clash of tongues and teeth, your mouths meet once again. Tugging the hair at his nape, you feel him growl against your lips. His strong hands trace every curve of your body, kneading the flesh of your hips and undoing the knot at the back of your apron. You’re becoming one with the sink, but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care less. Logan’s hard on nudges your lower stomach, and he ruts against you like an animal.

“You said you wanted to know what’s on my mind, right?” his teeth nibble on the skin of your neck, syrupy voice going straight to your core. “Well, I’d love nothing more than to touch you right now.”

“Right here? On the counter?”

“Yeah, on the fucking counter,” he grabs you by your thighs, hosting you up and placing your body on top of the cold bar. He nudges your knees apart, his bulge meeting your clothed cunt deliciously. “Will you let me, baby? Can I make you come in here?”

“Please. I’m glad we have such a low budget. Camera installment is t–too expensive these days.”

“Do you always talk this much?” he slowly unbuttons your pants, and you help him to remove them.

“Yes. Next question,” your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the pad of his thumb circling your clit through your panties. Your eyelids drop, your head lolling back. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Logan hums, mesmerized with the way your hips roll into his hand, your whimpers sounding like music to his ears. “You have any idea how I felt when I saw him touching you? Wanted to rip his hands off you,” his eyes drift to your chest, how it rises and falls with impatience. “But it’s me who gets to have you like this. He can fantasize about you all he wants: I’m the only one who touches you, ain’t I right?” you sigh with content as his fingers graze your slit, aimlessly bucking your hips. He doesn’t go any further, and you tug at the collar of his flannel, needing more of his callousand hands on you. “Nuh-uh. You want something, you gotta use your words. Got it?”

“I w–want your fingers inside me,” you don’t even recognize your own voice at this point. The few guys you had slept with had never been very talkative during sex. But Logan isn’t like them. This is just the beginning and you’re already starting to realize that he has a dirty mouth, that expectant look on his face as he waits to see your reaction to his words. “Please, Logan. I want you so bad.”

“Oh, I know, bub. There’s something about me I don’t think you know,” he inserts one of his fingers in your cunt, your slick coating the palm of his hand. “These claws I have… they didn’t come on their own. Let’s just say my sense of smell is… pretty good,” Logan can almost see the gears turning in your head as you try to think coherently. He moves his middle finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. “And you… have been wet ever since the first time you saw me. Always nice to everybody, making sure they feel at ease,” you feel like you’re being stretched even further, another one of his fingers sinking into your warm pussy. “But you’re so needy, too. How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”

“Too long, f–fuck. Too long,” you’re squirming, a totally whiny mess. He retratcs his wet fingers and instead goes back to flicking your clit, this time with much less delicacy. His left hand squeezes your tits, and you hate the fact that you’re still wearing clothes. “Shit, Logan. I need you to fuck me. Please. Need your cock.”

His face comes to rest at your neck, and you feel lingering kisses and bites that keep you grounded to earth. “Not here. I need a bed to fuck you properly. You’re only getting my fingers now,” he positions them inches away from your entrance, testing your patience. “Tell me who owns this pussy.”

“L-logan–”

“Tell me and I’ll make you come,” his husky voice is making you dizzy, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Come on. Know you want it as much as I do.”

You succumb to the tentation, like divinity turned to sin. He kisses you roughly, and you struggle to find the correct words. “It’s you, Logan. You own my pussy. It’s f-fucking yours.”

With that, he goes back to nudging that spot that makes you see starts, that filthy squelching sound getting mixed up with your moans. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter the more he pumps his fingers in and out of you. 

“I said you were only getting my fingers for now, but fuck… I need to gest a taste of this sweet cunt.”

He’s on his knees in an instant, urging your legs apart to make room for his body. Your thighs tighten around his face as he licks a hot stripe up your folds, tracing a heated path on your cunt, not wishing to waste a single second. Pleasure builds quickly, your breath hitching as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer when your body begins to tremble. 

“I’m close,” you pant, breathing hard, grinding your hips against his face. “I’m so close.”

“That’s it. Come in my mouth like the good girl you are.”

Who had given him a damn script for this?

The release is explosive. Like the peak of a roller coaster: you go up up up, ascending higher. You think you almost see Jesus, but at some point, you also have to crash down with force. Your shoulders slump, your entire body cramping up; yet he doesn’t let you go that easily, his fingers still working, scissoring within you while you ride out the final waves of your high, drawing out every last moment of ecstasy.

Once you finally manage to open your eyes, there he is, staring down at you. He taps your lower lip with his fingers, and then mutters: “Open.”

And you do, because you’re just as messed up as he is. Your mouth parts, and he slides his fingers between your lips, dragging them smoothly across your tongue. His knuckles brush the back of your throat, and you gag around the intrusion, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, clearly satisfied with the way you’ve cleaned them off.

“I think we should really pay a visit to your apartment,” he suggests, groaning in defeat, and you feel his bulge poking your hip. He must be painfully hard. “I meant what I said earlier. I need a bed if we’re going to fuck. My back’s hurting.”

You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into a smirk. “Why not go to yours?”

“Wade’s in there. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”

You can’t help but laugh, pausing a moment to collect your thoughts, heat rising to your cheeks. “So we’re going rodeo?”

Aiming to silence up, Logan kisses you, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Only if you can handle it.”

part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”

dividers by: @cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[targaryenluvs]

OH BABY!

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader, young!naive!tribute reader

summary: finnick found you to be as cute as ever. but you aren’t exactly the smartest in the room according to him. luckily, finnicks more than happy to help his sweet baby succeed, and he will not let you forget him.

warnings: AGE GAP (18 - 23) smut, FILTH THIS MAN IS DOWNBAD, possessive, corruption, pervy finnick, violent thoughts/intrusive, exhibitionist? degradation, oral (m & f), p in v, overstimulation, praise, mirror kink? spanking 👀 rough sex? tummy bulge, my first time writing smut be kind 😭

word count: 5k - this is literally the longest fic ive written.

a/n: this is what happens at 6am and i can’t sleep, thoughts are thunk -UPDATE HOLY CRAP THERE IS GONNA BE A NEW MOVIW AND BOOKKKSJSNABS

taglist: @coolchick333 @doublesideeye

“and the female tribute for district four, y/n l/n.” your eye involuntarily twitched at your name being called. the people around you, distanced themselves from you as a path was carved to your own hell.

as you walked to the platform you kept your head down. you were actually hopeful that you’d get through this reaping, your last and then never see the inside of the arena. but of course fate was against you. as you stood in front of the people you couldn’t help the silent tears that fled down your face.

your mothers face was tired and drained, she had a feeling you’d get picked. mothers intuition? your father was pissed, his little girl, his sweetheart, being thrown into an arena to die? and worst of all, there wasn’t anything he could do.

you felt alone, as if no one could help you. and as you said goodbye to the life you knew, you could only pray for safety, and a quick death.

as you were escorted to the train you fiddled with your sweater sleeves. pulling them down, rolling them up, just to focus your mind on something. it was chilly, most likely the air conditioning on the train and sometimes you had to hold down your skirt.

finnick couldn’t take his eyes of you once he saw you on the train. you looked so tiny in the chair and he couldn’t help but smile.

he practically had you all to himself.

“y/n?” your head shot up at your name being called and you were met with finnick odair in all his glory. “finnick? finnick odair?” even calling his name you sounded so unsure, so he smiled and nodded.

“i’m your mentor, and i promise to try my best to get you to win.” he sat down in front of you, spreading his legs and you felt your face warm up. he found you adorable, with a cute white sweater and a short black skirt. you had your hair down with the front parts tied up with a bow. his own personal present.

your shy demeanour reminded him of your young age, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. you were looking everywhere but at him and he loved it.

“do… do you think i can win?” god no. the tributes would eat you up alive, but he’d try his best. “i do.” with just two words of encouragement, you smiled at him for the first time.

finnick wanted you to smile at him forever.

“are you hungry?” the rumbling of your stomach answered his question, as you ducked your head in your hands in embarrassment.

he moved your hands aside, tilting your chin up, "it's okay to be hungry sweetheart, come on." he held his hand out for you and he laughed at your hesitance. "i don't bite, not unless you want me to.” the last part of his sentence came out hushed and you averted your eyesight from him.

there were so many foods laid out before you, and it wasn’t as if you were poor, but god, it all looked nice. the eclairs took your attention away as you reached for one, your finger sweeping cream off the top before placing it in your mouth. it was sickeningly sugary but you had a sweet tooth, you retracted your finger with a pop! and you somehow didn’t hear finnicks groan.

how on earth were you not realising how dirty it seemed? and it was there finnick realised how pure you were, “its so good,” you flashed him a toothy grin, “you'll have some won't you finnick?" you offered it up to him with two hands and how could he resist? the two of you spent the rest of your time on the train eating and talking, finnick utilising his time to get to know you.

you’d spent a day getting settled and were now to get ready for your interview.

after being prepped and readied, you were shuffled into your dressing room where analise, damian and sarah awaited. a range of compliments were thrown your way.

“oh isn’t she adorable?”

“i could pinch her cheeks forever!”

“you are precious!”

they were so nice to you and you loved it, but you barely ever learned how to take compliments so you ended up just nodding your head. “she is gorgeous,” you snapped your head up to the doorway and there stood your mentor, in all his glory. his compliment felt heavier than the rest, like he truly meant it, and you looked down at your hands as you fought off the blush threatening to rise on your cheeks.

in an hour you’d been through a whirlwind of makeup, dresses and jewels. orange, blue, black and all, you loved each one but for some reason after the four of them discussed you’d always be taken out of it.

it wasn’t until you were placed in an off the shoulder, floor length, white dress that you remained in it. and as you looked in the mirror you couldn’t help but stare. your hair was pinned up again, and small flowers were placed throughout. you felt like a princess and finnick agreed. you hadn’t even noticed that your stylists were gone until you heard the door shut.

it was just you and finnick.

“you look incredible.” finnick whispered, he was behind you now. his hand had a mind of its own as it placed a stray hair behind your ear. you turned your head his way, “really?” your voice was so soft and doused in disbelief. if he wasn’t next to you he wouldn’t have heard you. his hand trailed along your neck as he placed your hair behind, he nodded. “i have something for you.”

he pulled out a small seashell, and your eyes lit up, “oh finnick.” you sighed as he placed it in your hands. “it reminded me of you, small, gorgeous.” you looked up at him with doe eyes and he felt like grabbing you and taking you away.

you were breathtaking and you looked at him as if he was god.

“thank you finn, do you mind maybe putting it in my hair?” he took the trinket and placed it above your ear, entangling in with your hair. your heels were on but untied so finnick got onto his knees before patting his knee. he grabbed the straps before tieing them. his fingertips worked quickly and his face was concentrated. he was done and he looked up at you before turning you to the mirror.

finnicks hands were on your shoulder as he leaned in to whisper, “all done, you look perfect sweetheart.” you turned before reaching up on your tiptoes, “thank you finnick!” you kissed him on his nose before turning back and finnick grinned, “aren’t you cute?” he stood behind you, attached like a shadow. your skin felt soft underneath his fingertips and he couldn’t help but wander. down your arms, to your waist, he could feel you tensing up underneath him and he could feel his face trying to fight off his smirk.

“finnick?” you breathed out, “what’re you doing?” your voice was small, and unsure. “tell me to stop.” you should. you should tell him to stop. but all you could think about was finnicks hands and how good they felt.

“it’s time!” damian shouted out as you peeled away from finnick to open the door. damian was all too happy to see you as he clapped his hands together. “ah, my special girl you are truly an angel.” finnick knew that. finnick has already said that. finnick had you in his arms and oh so close and this idiot took you away. his sweet girl.

finnick was wondering where his trident was so that he could impale him through the stomach.

“come on y/n.” he ushered you out the door but you managed to slip another look at finnick and all you saw was pure rage.

the interview went well, in your eyes at least.

caesar was as upbeat as usual and it did mostly centre around your dress and looks but you felt you could try your best to use it to your advantage.

the audience was enamoured and you felt you did your best. “and y/n, tell us, what’s your secret strategy for the games? any tricks up your sleeve?” you patted his knee before pointing at him jokingly, “well caesar, it wouldn’t be a secret if i divulged now would it?” everyone loved your answer and caesar doubled over, “aren’t you cheeky! isn’t our diamond here so playful? but a sweetheart nonetheless!” the crowd agreed loudly.

“now, since you came out i think we’ve all been wondering where that seashell came from. it doesn’t exactly match the theme of your outfit.” you could hear the murmurs from the crowd agreeing with his words.

“am i right in suspecting a certain blonde mentor of yours?” you pursed your lips and a giggle began to form as caesar pumped his fist in the air, “i think we got it! can we expect the two of you together once you win?” you’d never even had a boyfriend and here you were being put together with the finnick odair, you were sure everyone could tell how giddy you were.

you felt as if you had a million eyes on you, your whole body was heating up as you buried your head in your hands. “ah we caught her out! someone’s got a crush! but then again it’s finnick odair so don’t we all?” a bunch of cheers erupted as you beamed.

“well it was a wonderful to meet you, truly! our diamond here, y/n l/n!” screams and shouts directed your way came in full force as you waved at caesar and blew kisses to all. as you walked back you bumped into someone.

“y/n right?” the boy from three, theo.

you nodded and stuck your hand out, “nice to meet you!” he looked down at your hand and back up at you before laughing, “very formal, i like it. i’m theo, your dress is nice but i think the girl wearing it is breathtaking.” you giggled before tucking your hair behind your ear.

finnick stood with the other mentors and held himself back from shoving haymitch out the way to get him to stop rambling on. his grip on his glass was solid, so it wasn’t a surprise when it shattered. “oh my!” effie yelled out as finnick apologised before someone came to clean it up. he stepped around the person before excusing himself to get to you.

you were laughing, hard. what in panem was so funny?

you were wiping tears away from your eyes as finnick joined the two of you, his hand on your back as theo nodded at him, “finnick.” he hated him. why the hell did theo speak as if he knew him personally? his smug face was unbelievably irritating. “finnick! how’d i do?” and the second you spoke he felt the anger dissipate, he adored the way you waited for his response as if it held all the answers.

“you did well.” finnicks answer felt snippy and made you feel as if you’d done something wrong. “we should get going.” he directed you away from the boy as you shouted out, “i’ll see you around!”

the entire elevator ride was, to put it lightly, awkward. it left you feeling confined in what little space you and finnick had. “finn? are you okay?” you placed your hand on his arm and stood in-front of him. you were hoping he’d explain what was wrong but what you didn’t expect was to be pushed against the side of the elevator and finnick kissing you. his hand was on your waist again and he shuffled your dress up, slithering underneath.

you moaned in his mouth, his hands playing and gripping at your ass. in reaction, your fingers thread through his hair and your grip tightened, “finn- not here.” the elevator was glass and you were scared of people seeing. finnick found it hard to care, drunk off your perfume. in a panic, you pulled away from him, your hands cradling his face to make him listen. “i’ve… never,” the whisper hung over the both of you, the tension in the air thick and hot.

instead of being met with judgment, he murmured, “i’ll make it good for you, i promise.” finnick had finally gotten a taste, and he could only crave more. his lips met your neck, his warm tongue painting wet desire into your skin. it was almost too much for little old you, letting out quiet whimpers as he explored you. his sleeves were rolled and you needed to ground yourself, your nails dug into his veiny arms. “finn-” you protested but he could tell you didn’t want to. just a little longer and he could get you to give in. “just let me feel you.”

the elevator stopping brought the two of you back as you fixed your dress and finnick fixed his own hair, running his hands through it. he directed you out of the elevator and nodded in acknowledgment to the people entering. as you walked onto your floor you were met with servants, stylists and others. it seems damian and analise had taken it upon themselves to invite some friends and you were eager to meet them.

whereas finnick wanted to rip your dress off and take you till the morning.

the same dainty hands which were running all over him were shaking others and waving as you all sat down to eat. as everyone feasted away you couldn’t help but play with your own meal. you were flushed and all you wanted was to kiss finnick again. he was sitting next to you and wasn’t hungry for food, he wanted to eat something else.

your dress didn’t hide much of your chest and when you reclined in your seat, crossing your arms and pushing up your breasts?

finnick needed to see more.

the clattering of his fork on the floor drew the attention of some, but they went back to their conversations and bets. “i’ll get it for you.” you pushed back your seat and got down to your knees, flicking up the tables sheet and searched around for it before hitting cold metal. you reached your hand out with the fork to finnick. his cock was throbbing at the image of you on the floor, chest on display and a sweet smile on your face. he bent down and grinned, “you look good on your knees sweetheart.”

his words went straight down between your legs and your mouth fell open at his words.

such vulgar words from such a beautiful man.

his hand came down to close your jaw. you felt, weird. as you sat back on your chair you felt warm? but a good warm? it was tantalising. you wondered if it was normal.

finnick would tell you right?

“finnick.” his head turned your way, “what is it y/n?” you leaned closer and so did he, your hands cupped around his ear, “i feel weird.” his eyebrows shot up as a sign of interest, “oh? what’s wrong honey? where do you feel weird?” you gulped, your throat felt dry and for some reason it felt dirty to talk about.

your eyes drifted downwards and as you looked up finnicks eyes seemed darker. “here?” his touch was soft on your thigh underneath the table as you gasped.

“everything all right dear?” sarah questioned as you nodded. it felt so good, his touch. but it wasn’t exactly where needed, his hand trailed closer and higher, until it was gone. your head snapped up at him as he smirked at you, mocking you.

for the rest of the night he didn’t even pay attention to you. and you had no clue why.

you couldn’t sleep after the day you had and all your mind was thinking of was finnick. finnicks hands, his arms, his mouth, his words.

“i don’t bite, unless you want me to.”

“yes, here.”

“i’ll make it so good for you.”

“just let me feel you.”

“you look good on your knees sweetheart.”

your room was too quiet, making it unchallenging for your thoughts to run wild at the anticipation of finnick odair. you couldn’t bear it, so you left to the busiest room you could think of.

your leg was shaking up and down and your mind was pacing whilst your body couldn’t. the butterflies were practically knocking around in your stomach and you hoped perhaps finnick could help. he’d help you right? but he didn’t before. maybe he was just tired? you were so desperate for help and answers that you’d forgone knocking and walked right in.

only to be met with an extremely wet finnick odair.

by your luck your eyes were probably poking out of your head at the sight of him, you couldn’t help but stare. it was your first time being in the same room as a man so, naked? for the lack of a better word, he still had a very short towel wrapped around his bottom half. was it small? or did he make it look small?

“see something you like sweetie?” god his voice was so saccharine, how the hell did his voice work you up? “i- i wanted to t-talk.” and you were stuttering, great! he walked closer to you and you stepped back, all the way into his wall. “yeah? does my pretty girl wanna talk?” you nodded along dumbly as your breath quickened. “words sweetie, use your words.” you swallowed, “yes.”

his thumb caressed your cheek before brushing along your lips, “you sure you just want to talk?” and there they were, the butterflies. you shook your head, “no? what do you want?” you played with your night dress, “you?” it was a soft murmur and finnick wanted you to beg. he’d been pining after you since the second he saw you, it’s only fair right?

“where do you want me?” his words were hot in your ear, his body was wet and your white night dress was suddenly see through. his hand rested on your ass, “here?” you shook your head, “no?” his thumb brushed over your nipple as your nails pressed into his neck, pulling him into yours. your breath was heavy and he was unrelenting.

his hand moved from your ass to cup your front as you gasped, “here?” you nodding along dumbly, “please finnick, i’ve been wanting you for the whole day, i’ll be good for you i promise.” your words were music to his ears, “yeah? you’re gonna be good f’me?”

“yes, yes, yes.” you whined as you wrapped your arms around his neck. standing on your tiptoes as you bit your lip. “you gonna let me use you yeah? do whatever i want?” you were practically jumping up and down at this point, your tits with you. your straps were pushed down as your dress fell down to the floor. his cock was throbbing at the sight of you, he’d been waiting for this.

“then on your knees honey.” you were quick to obey as he pushed you down to the cold floor, his towel quickly ripped off, courtesy of you.

it was your first time doing anything sexual so any cock was bound to be big in your eyes. finnick loved the sight of you on your knees, innocent as ever. fully nude, hands slotted nicely between your thighs. he wanted to ruin you. he ran his hand along his dick, pumping it before resting the tip on your lips.

as if you were on auto-control, your lips parted to let him through. a salty taste flooded through your mouth as he cooed down at you.

“you’re doing so well for me.”

“pretty baby on her knees, who knew you’d be such a slut?”

your eyes flickered up at him as you moved your head forwards on your own accord. “fuck.” he groaned as you replaced his hands with yours.

he wanted to go easy on you.

but kitten licks at the tip and soft kisses weren’t doing it for him. you opened your mouth again, gaining confidence and feeding off of finnicks praises. his large hand placed on the back of your head, fingers spread out as he thrusted down your throat.

the sounds that filled his room were lewd. squelches and groans as you tried your best to keep going. your cheeks hollowed out as finnick guided you, “relax your throat, try breathe through your nose. if it’s too much just tap my thigh sweetie.”

you retracted, catching your breath as you gazed up at him whilst simultaneously blinking away the tears in your eyes but a few fell free. he couldn’t help but moan. your messy mouth mixed with your saliva and his pre-cum. “you think theo’s this big? you think he could make you choke on his dick?” you shook your head immediately.

his member felt cold without the warmth of your mouth, but he was feeling nice so he let you take a break. “too big for you sweetie?” you shook your head furiously, “naw is my baby tough?” you giggled as you wrapped your lips around him again, your tongue flat against the underside of his dick as he eased himself in. “ah- fuck.”

but he can only hold out for so long as he began to fasten his pace, chasing his high. your fingers dug into his thighs right under his ass, for some reason you seemed to have something to prove as you took him all the way. your moans egged him on as his hips thrust forwards, “so good f’me, my s-sweet girl.” his praises fueled you on as your nose met his naval. salty tears fell down your cheeks and finnick was in his right mind to lick them all up.

god you were better than he’d imagined. and trust him, he’d imagined a lot.

“swallow for me yeah? be a good girl and open wide.” thick cum coated your tongue as you gladly accepted. finnick proudly gazed upon your painted face. watery eyes, sticky face. all for him. you gulped it down before wiping off the remaining waste on your face, eyeing finnick up before licking it off your fingers.

“what happened to the diamond? only a whore for me right?” your fingers were wet as you pulled them out. “uh-huh.” your agreed as he pulled you up. “do you even know what that means?” he teased as you puckered your lips before shaking your head. “thought so, you wanna be good for me?” you nodded, “on the bed baby.”

you sat down on the bed as you waited for finnick to join you. he situated himself between your legs, running his hands along them. “lean back for me. you took me so well, you want me to make you feel good too?” your eyes widened at the idea, “yes please finn.” his hands reached up and rested under your breasts, “i don’t know if you’ve earned it honey.” your lips twisted into a slight frown, your waterline glazing over.

“i was! i did what you asked finn, please.”

he palmed your breast, massaging it softly as you threw your head back, “please. please keep going.” your begging was more than enough for him, his baby asked so nicely no?

“yeah? you like me playing with you?” incoherent babbles fell from your lips as finnicks mouth kissed your breast. his hand trailed down to feel you, and he was met with warm wetness. the moan you let out was ungodly, “finnick please! oh god it feels so- so good.” he couldn’t help admire you, eyes screwed shut, hands clutching the pristine white sheets.

“oh baby, can you be quiet for me? quiet for finn?” a string of ‘uh-huhs’ came from your mouth as finnick slid a finger into you, a tight fit. “oh my god!” you yelped before slamming your hand over your mouth. he was knuckle deep as he worked his finger in before curling it, then another, then another. his free hand was pushing your hips down into the mattress as your hips lifted upwards with every move he made.

“finnick, finnick. you feel so good.” you cried out as he retracted his fingers before curling them upwards. he knew exactly what to do, where to be, what to say. his name fell from your lips like a prayer and your nails raked down his back as he grunted.

now, finnicks fingers were one thing, but his mouth?

his tongue pressed against your clit and you swear you saw god, finnick was probably the god. his tongue flicked over your clit as his fingers entered your cunt again, the pressure in your stomach was building so high you were afraid of the fall.

a wave of pleasure fell over you as finnick talked you through it, “that’s it baby, let go.” he hovered over you as his fingers worked your cunt. your nails had bloodied his back, scratched raw. as you moved your fingers finnick hissed into your ear. “m’ sorry, m’ so so sorry.” your head was spinning and you wanted to rest, but apparently finnick had other ideas as he lowered himself to your core. your mind was hazy as your hand clutched the pillow your head laid on, the other twisted in his hair.

“what’re you doing?” finnicks green eyes pierced through you as he raised his head from in between your thighs. featherlight kisses trailed upwards to your pussy as your thighs twitched and closed around his head, still sensitive as ever. “just want a taste, clean you up.” he mumbled as he tongue breached your entrance and you were back where you were before.

this man was driven youd give him that.

“finn s’ too much, please.” your words were slurred as he delved inside. he couldn’t find it in himself to let up, you were so sweet, he just wanted a taste. so he kept going, his tongue, his hands, his words. if there was one thing you knew about finnick it was that he could talk anyone into anything. so you found yourself squirming underneath his strong arms, forearm pinning you down to the bed as he made your back arch and your toes curl.

“sweet baby, so sweet.” all attempts of getting away, only caused him to get annoyed with you, can’t you just lay down and let him ruin you? at this point it was for his pleasure rather than yours. your thighs were practically squeezing his head and neck but he kept going. you didn’t know where to put your hands, pulling his hair was no good. your hand somehow ended up on your clit, moving in a circular motion as the other palmed your breast.

each time he made you come you rested your head, energy depleted. but again he ended up between your legs and pathetic pleas from you did nothing to make him stop.

“wanna make you feel good.”

“just one more, you can take it sweetheart.”

when your fourth rolled around you were so far gone. “pretty baby, not a single thought up there huh?” you couldn’t even bring yourself to respond, and he didn’t expect you to. he brushed away the stray hairs from your face and kissed you passionately. “you did so well f’me honey. made me proud, you got one more in you for me?” it wasn’t a question, his dick was painfully hard and he only knew of one solution.

you tiredly shook your head, “no more finny.” he grinned, “no? you don’t want my cock?” your breath hitched at his words and you knew you were fucked. “mhm. want it.” you were reduced to one to two words in a sentence.

“yeah you do. on your knees baby.” you tiredly rolled over, situating yourself on your knees and the palms of your hands as finnick kneaded your ass. his hands grazed over the skin before-

smack!

“think you should be able to see yourself baby.” his hand yanked at your hair as you found your reflection glaring back at you. “so pretty, aren’t you?” finnick knew you were horrible at accepting compliments and he was more than happy to use it against you.

smack!

you’d taken too long to answer, but based on finnicks smug expression you could tell he was hoping for it. “you have to answer baby.” finnicks arm came across your waist, pulling you up, flush with his chest as his hands pawed at your chest.

“you wanna be my baby yeah?” you could only manage moans and finnick was not happy. he threw you forwards as you caught yourself with your hands infront of you.

smack!

“fucked you so good you can’t even talk.” he taunted you as he dragged his cock in between your drenched folds. finnicks groans were deep, and so hot. “you know how long i wanted to fuck you baby? in that short skirt on the train? when you licked up that cream? my girls dirty huh?” you didn’t respond and it only fuelled his fire, he’d wanted you for so long and now you had the audacity to ignore him?

he thrusted into you without warning and you screamed out. “want to act like a slut? i’ll treat you like one. fuck!” your walls were squeezing down on him, sucking him in and he was more than happy to oblige. his hips snapped against your ass as you gripped onto the sheets for dear life. his grip on your hips bruised, leaving a fiery impression in their wake. finnick had stamina for days, he was strong and built. you were small and fragile, finnick was glad to be the one to break you in.

he pulled you up to him again as he kissed you frantically, capturing your bottom lip in between his teeth. he was relentless in his pursuit for his high, he marked up any place he could as he continued to drive into you with determination.

“bet you dreamed of this, of me.” his hand gripped your throat, his eyes bore into your own, finnick was inescapable. every touch, every thrust, all him. you were enveloped in his being and he worshipped yours. finnick continued to pound into you harshly, cock gliding easily against your inner walls. he was deep inside but he wanted to be deeper. “yes! yes! harder!” you cried out.

his hand pressed down onto your stomach, “feel that?” his breath was prominent by your ear, “oh god!” you exclaimed, it felt as if you were filled to the brim as he bottomed out in you. thick, hot cum released into you as his and your moans were raising in pitch and his hips began to stutter.

the room was filled with the sound of slapping skin, the promise of silence forgotten. “let go baby, you’re close. let go.” the two of you had eachother and it was more than enough. his groans were deep and animalistic as he spilled himself inside you. your hand reached behind you to caress his neck. thank yous spilled out from you, your whole being was ignited, you never knew you could feel so good.

the two of you lied together, entangled in sheets and a mess of limbs. you couldn’t tell where finnick odair began and y/n l/n started. all you knew was that he was yours, and you were his.

you’d fallen asleep a bit ago, your chest rising and falling steadily. finnicks arm curled around you as you rested on his chest. from the moonlight spilling into his room he could view the bruises tattering your smooth skin. as he traced over them he couldn’t help but grin, he could imagine you limping in the arena.

you sure as hell weren’t forgetting him anytime soon.

[005mins]

/ sometimes I think about how d.aybit went through an eternity of 0.2 seconds in the blink of an eye; an incident that as soon as it occurred, it automatically made all records and background of him and his father to completely vanish from the world and from people’s memories; making it appear as if neither he nor his father have ever existed at all. All that was left were two shadows burned into the ground, his and his father’s; the only indication that ‘someone’ must have once stood in that place. Now who those shadows might belong to? no one would ever know, for the records of both of their existences completely vanished from the world and from people’s memories. Such was the intensity of the event that the shadows remained etched on the ground despite no one being there, and no methods have worked in getting rid of them either, thus making the headmaster of the department that later arrived to the scene to conclude that the shadows would continue to remain there even after the universe has completely cooled down 

A human would die were they to theoretically be disassembled entirely on an atomic level, yet in 0.2 seconds, D.aybit became a gap between time and space that somehow managed to ‘survive’ albeit something has definitely and fundamentally changed him, and I think thats s o metal-

[jz12luvscl16]

||`•°★9 Months!★.•°`||

★°Π•`:link to my master list ★.:Π•`°

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yourusernameLife recently 🤍

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landonorris Told her a hundred times to stop wandering around and just rest but she won't listen 😮‍💨 pregnant women are hard to deal with 🫥

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maxversteppen1 Dont let her out of you sight she's too energetic sometimes 🫥

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caption: firstly she didn't listen to me and then came to me crying cause the pain increased and now I have to put her to sleep like the child she is😮‍💨 but I still love her👊🩷

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Landonorris Since the day I had met y/n I knew she was the one. without her I would've been nothing. The day she became my wife k was the happiest man on earth. and today she welcomed my daughter to the world. our daughter. I Love you so much y/n. welcome y/d/n. dad loves you❤️

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maxversteppen1 ❤️❤️

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[afterglowsainz]

bye | charles leclerc, alexandra saint mleux

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader x alexandra saint mleux, reader x ex!max verstappen

summary: when max breaks up with you, you find solace in his childhood rival and his stunning girlfriend

fc: taylor swift

request: here

a/n: guys i’m not even a charles girlie but he looked so happy in that podium i wanted to cry

—

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yourusername always the biggest pleasure, paris🤎

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f1wags y/n y/l/n on saturday and sunday at the paddock for quali and the grand prix

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f1gossip max verstappen and girlfriend y/n y/l/n were seen fighting outside their hotel after the grand prix, y/n later walked away and left max alone

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yourusername fresh out the slammer … into the studio

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username HUH?

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alexandrasaintmleux with a full heart ❤️

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[caption 1: 🍝] [caption 2: 💘]

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ynupdates charles leclerc, alexandra saint mleux, kika gomes and pierre gasly at tonight’s show of y/n’s tour in milan

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f1wags alexandra saint mleux and y/n y/l/n today at the paddock, y/n used to date max verstappen but recently broke up and was seen today at the ferrari hospitality with alexandra and charles, with whom she stayed friends

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[caption 1: alexandrasaintmleux 🫶🏽🫶🏽] [caption 2: 🍸]

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charles_leclerc mes trois coeurs❤️

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yourusername monaco! you are one of the best crowds ever ❤️ i had too much fun singing from the top of my lungs with all of you and performing for the first time ever my two new singles, “fresh out the slammer” and “bye” 😽 i have the feeling we’ll see each other wayyy more often

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[sayoneee]

☆ HEAD OVER HEELS

“something happens and i'm head over heels” - tears for fears (smau)

contains: luke castellan x ares! reader. best friends to lovers? (again) secret relationship but everyone knows. alt universe everyones happy. woc friendly as always

kashaf’s note: free palestine! (for reference, connor is percabeth's age, while travis is yns age so um imagine)

liked by annabethhh, lukecastellan, and 183 others

yn summer days drifting away!

tagged travistole, connorstole

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clarisse why would you give them guns

yn im not stupid theyre fake obviously connorstole im hurt wtf travistole yn do u not trust us yn um. ur funny. travistole 💔

lukecastellan i see you’re poaching my siblings again

yn im just more fun what can i say lukecastellan liar liar pants on fire yn acting like ur 12 years old annabethhh finally someone said it lukecastellan annie ur my sister ur supposed to take my side wtf annabethhh 🤷‍♀️

silenabeauregard so where’s the summer loving?

yn u caught the grease reference!

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yn best girlfriends

tagged clarisse, silenabeauregard

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lukecastellan pic creds??

yn pic creds to this whiny baby lukecastellan u cried over good will hunting i aint forget yn how did u Not cry. it was so sad lukecastellan i look over and u were crying not once not twice but 4 times. yn im never watching anything w u ever again lukecastellan u cant ever replace me im one of a kind yn 💀

silenabeauregard I LOVE YOU GORGEOUS GIRL

yn MWAH MWAH 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

clarisse YURRR

travistole soft launching me i like it 😍

connorstole ik u lying rn yn 😭 silenabeauregard WHAT clarisse oh that's not... annabethhh yn ?????

liked by yn, clarisse, and 205 others

travistole best duos

tagged yn, connorstole, cbeckendorf

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connorstole why did yn get the priority tag

travistole bc we're the better duo yn so true (clarisse solos u) travistole oh im well aware clarisse 😁

yn people r gonna think im ur gf

annabethhh u arent??? yn i burst into tears how could u. travistole hey now. i'm not that bad. yn im going to kms silenabeauregard annabeth 💀 clarisse 💀 connorstole 💀 percyjackson 💀 cbeckendorf 💀 chrisrodriguez 💀 annabethhh what do you all know that i don't???

cbeckendorf love you too man

travistole 💋 clarisse silena yo mans acting up again

view percyjackson's story.

view clarisse's story.

view chrisrodriguez's story.

view silenabeauregard's story.

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lukecastellan 🚷

tagged yn, percyjackson, chrisrodriguez

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yn im w silena tho

lukecastellan shes cheating on u w charlie yn ig ur my last option silenabeauregard nooo yn come back bbg

chrisrodriguez bro stood up

percyjackson finally

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yn last man on earth

tagged lukecastellan

lukecastellan thanks

yn i like donating to the poor! lukecastellan come donate in my cabin connorstole we sleep there nasty mf

annabethhh YOU'RE DATING LUKE?

g_man cmon now... percyjackson wise girl... yn sister-in-laws?

clarisse wow really.

travistole wouldve never guessed. chrisrodriguez had us fooled. connorstole impossible. cbeckendorf really confounded us silenabeauregard almost like they didn't act like they were about to kiss all the time yn kys.

© sayoneee on tumblr. do not repost, translate, plagiarize or claim any of my works as your own.

[milksnake-tea]

✩ CHAPTER SUMMARY : Now light years away from his home, Sunday's past haunts him as he grapples with accepting his new life.

✩ SERIES SYNOPSIS : Following the catastrophe of the Charmony Festival, rather than in one of Penacony's hospitals or prisons, Sunday awakens right in the base of one of the most notorious criminals in the galaxies. With nowhere else to go, he's left to follow you, the Stellaron Hunters' medic, in his attempts to become accustomed to his new life.

✩ WORD COUNT : 4.4k

✩ TAGLIST : @vynicity , @vxnuslogy , @https-mika , @greyrain23 , @red-ninja15 , @arienic , @immahuman , @sund4ykisser , @mysteriaqueen , @kiopanxp , @isa-l0v3r , @hesper-houkai-kat , @gamekillera , @nayukiyukihira , @randomidk-123 , @universetrash , @forevernyeong , @thedepartedcryptid , @heyhazelnut101 , @1000-leaves , @lowkeyren , @zhayur , @jellofishuu , @kascar-chronicle , @azaleaflowerr , @neigee , @fallintothechasm , @veritusratio , @astolary , @xphantasmagoriax , @semi-orangeapple , @ezra1yn , @xynthevoid , @apinu (send me an ask off anon to be added !! PLEASE SPECIFY ITS FOR THE SERIES 😭😭)

✩ ADDITIONAL NOTES : sunday focused chapter this time, i think i'm just going to be running around switching up povs hehe. i love this man (he is going to go through so much). SHOPPING WILL HAPPEN NEXT CHAPTER !!! GRGGRRGGR

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For the first time, Sunday is scared to sleep.

Despite being the pseudo-ruler of a Dreamscape, he hasn’t truly slept for quite some time. Even now, as he lays teetering the edge of consciousness, exhaustion is what drags him into slumber, not his own desire to rest.

The walls of his room haunt him - they’re so strikingly different from his quarters back on Penacony, stripped and bare and without any garnish or semblance of personality. What makes it worse is that his room is essentially soundproof - he can’t hear anything, not the footsteps of the Hunters, not the engine of the mothership, nothing that would assure him that he wasn’t alone.

He lays in clothes that are not his own - granted, they are comfortable and light, and he should be thankful that these criminals someone is kind enough to lend them to him, he should be and he wants to be. But Blade (he now recalls the Hunter’s name from the wanted posters that litter Penacony in reality) is no Halovian, and as such does not require the same slits in the back as Sunday does.

At the thought, the feathers against his bare abdomen become all the more apparent. To anyone else, they are soft and light, but to him, they scratch and itch and irritate. Sunday has always made sure to keep a barrier between his skin and his wings, whether it be a shirt, a vest, or simply keeping his larger wings lifted just enough so that they don’t come in contact with the rest of him.

“Keep them cramped up like that any longer, and you’ll never fly again.”

Your warning echoes in his head, stronger and louder every time it replays.

Sunday reasons that he shouldn’t feel fear at the thought - he was never meant to fly, after all. Unlike his sister, he was meant for the earth, for the people, for Penacony. For his weak subjects, he would stay shackled and carry the burden so that they could live in a paradise far away from the struggles of reality.

But his subjects were no more. Now, he is… free.

The word leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

He tosses and turns in his bed, digging his nails into his palms to distract himself from the ache in his lower wings.

He shouldn’t want to fly. Gopher Wood’s voice clouds his mind, reminding him of his duty, his purpose. For the people. For Penacony. For everyone, everyone except for himself. He remembers the clipping of his wings, how he had watched the remains of his flight feathers drift to the floor, signifying his fate to remain with the others.

He wonders if those feathers have grown back yet.

He rolls over again, pulling the covers closer to him. In, and out, he breathes the way he knows will calm him down. Inhale through the nose, hold, exhale through the mouth. Clear your mind of any impurities, he tells himself. He banishes any thoughts of flight, ignores his wings, and shuts his eyes.

In and out.

In and out.

Inhale through the nose.

Hold.

Exhale through the mouth.

Again.

Again.

Again-

“‘I long for a paradise where everyone can be at peace.’”

Sunday’s eyes snap open. He whirls, only to discover that he is weightless, translucent - almost like a ghost. There’s nothing but blackness for as far as he can see. But he’s left with little time to ponder when he hears that voice once more.

“That was my dream. Or should I say, our dream.”

Vines strangle his heart. It can’t be.

Tiny footsteps pit-pat in front of him. A figure gradually emerges from the abyss, Sunday’s breath catching in his throat as he finally sees who it is.

A white cotton vest over a purple-blue dress shirt. Big, round eyes that reflect foolish, childish naivety and a foolish, childish dream to help others. A golden halo that still glows brightly. Uncut wings.

“Who- Who are you?” he lets out a strangled whisper. He already knows the answer. He knows all too well.

The child smiles up at him. It’s bright, joyful.

He wants to run. But his feet are anchored and his limbs are frozen.

“You know who I am, silly,” the child laughs. Sunday flinches as he takes a step forward. “I’m me, and I’m you.”

The child stops just in front of him. His head reaches just the top of Sunday’s thigh, and yet Sunday feels so much smaller. His knees already feel weak, despite the child having done nothing.

“Mr. Wood said that one day, we were going to lead everyone to that paradise,” the child said innocently. “And in that paradise, no one would ever have to suffer. Everyone would be happy, and Robin would sing for them, on the biggest stage ever!”

And suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped, the light vanished from the child’s eyes. His smile drops, leaving only a blank, haunting stare that chills Sunday down to his very core.

“Why did you ruin that?” the child asks.

Sunday’s knees give out. He collapses, unable to do anything but stare, horrified and anguished as the child grabs his face with small hands, free of any calluses.

“Why?”

He tries to find an answer. His mouth opens and closes, but nothing comes out, because he knows - he knows there is no answer that could satisfy the child.

“Why?” the child asks again.

Tears prick at Sunday’s eyes. His breath hurts in his chest. He doesn’t know. He wants to look away, but the child holds his face with an iron grip.

“Why?” the child asks, but this time he is not alone. 

A deeper voice joins him - a voice that has been with him ever since he’d joined the Family, a voice that has acted as his conscience, his shackle that reminds him of his duty. Sunday cannot look to see Gopher Wood, but he knows that he is here.

With each question, another member of the Oak Family joins the mass surrounding him, until all 107,336 souls have congregated, all accusing him, all filled with hatred and disappointment.

“Why?” they ask.

“Why did you ruin our dream?”

“Why did you abandon us?”

“No- I didn’t- I-” He chokes on his own words as he fights to placate his Family. He feels their eyes on him, covering every inch of his body with their gaze. Their voices converge into one buzzing noise, a horrid symphony that threatens to burst his ears and invades his mind.

“Why are you so selfish?”

Sunday gasps, lurching from his bed. His heart pounds in his chest, filling his ears with the loud thuds. Clutching at his chest, bunching the fabric in his fist, he gulps down air like a man dying of thirst. His face feels wet.

Furiously he wipes at his eyes, but it does little to help what has already been done. Yet he does it anyway, wipes until his eyes burn from more than just tears and his cheeks hurt. He needs to stop - he has to stop, he has a meeting- no, it’s not a meeting, he is no longer an official- but he will be seen tomorrow and he cannot, he will not be seen like this.

Come on, Sunday. Get yourself together.

In and out.

In and out.

In and-

A wretched sob rips itself from his throat. He can’t stop it. He can’t. He is helpless to stop the tears as they fall down his face, one after the other in an endless stream. He curls into himself, his knees bunching up into his chest and he claws at his shoulders - but not too hard, lest he ruin the shirt he was so graciously given.

His wings ache once more as he weeps, and this time, he cannot bring himself to ignore them.

“You’ll never fly again.”

No. Sunday grips his shoulders harder. He doesn't want that.

He’s free. He’s alone.

He’s free. He’s selfish.

He’s free. He’s worthless.

He’s free.

And the thought terrifies him.

━

Countless hours pass before he eventually peels himself from the bed. What little sleep he manages to catch after his nightmare isn’t enough, but it will have to make do. He drags himself to the small bathroom connected to his bedroom and flicks on the light.

He’d showered last night, but he still feels dirty. He splashes water onto his face, silently relishing in the cold feeling. A heavy sigh leaves him as he grips the sides of the sink.

Looking up, he meets his reflection.

He looks horrible, to put it bluntly - or at least, by his standards. As a Halovian, eyebags and other blemishes don’t come by easily - otherwise he’d shut himself in his room until he got his hands on some concealer. If there’s one thing Sunday can always count on, it’s his so-called “natural beauty” that persists despite it all.

But he hates the tiniest details that no one but he can see, the smallest droop of his eyes and the slight dullness of his skin. His hair suffers from a terrible case of bedhead, and his wings look frazzled.

However, he straightens his posture, it’s nothing he can’t fix. If anything, tidying up one’s appearance was what Sunday excelled at.

It takes him about half an hour before he’s finally satisfied. Setting down the comb, he stretches, releasing the tension that had built up in his muscles. He looks outside to the alarm clock that rests at his bedside.

You didn’t specify a specific time for the two of you to meet, but it’s better to be safe than sorry, and Sunday refuses to not be punctual, lest you call him out for it - and he knows you will.

Opening the closet door, he’s greeted with the fruits of last night’s labor. The clothes he’d borrowed from Blade are all organized by color and by style, folded neatly without a wrinkle or crease in sight. A small smile slips onto his face at the sight before he picks out his clothes for the day.

Blade’s clothes are a little too big for him, and his aesthetic is the complete opposite of Sunday’s. While Sunday has always worn light-colored clothes adorned by gold and blue, Blade seems to prefer darker and more muted colors, with the majority of his borrowed wardrobe being black, navy, and brown.

Whatever. Not like he has any room to complain.

After slipping off his nightwear, he pulls on the shirt that’s closest to his size, a navy blue button up shirt alongside tighter black pants. He’s able to tuck the shirt into the pants so that it doesn’t look like a trash bag on him. Further modifications include folding the sleeve up to his mid-forearm, shifting his pants a bit higher so he doesn’t trip and fall, and securing a belt around his waist so that his shirt doesn’t fall out. Sunday wasn’t given any shoes to borrow, which he was thankful for; he wanted to have at least one familiar item on his person.

Checking himself out in the mirror, he smooths out what little wrinkles there are in his shirt and gives himself one last lookover. His bare hands catch the light. Sunday’s nose wrinkles at the sight.

He hates having his hands out. Without his signature gloves, he looks naked, but there comes another problem. His outfit is dark, and his only pair of gloves are white - they wouldn’t match at all.

Sunday clicks his tongue. That’ll be the first thing he buys on Euphrosyne. But as of right now, it looks like he’s back to the borrowing game.

He checks his appearance once more, before he switches the light and finally emerges from his room.

As it usually is with spaceships or any planet without a day/night cycle, it’s difficult to tell whether or not time has passed. But Sunday has long forsaken the concept of mornings and evenings, and has instead reduced his perception of time to system hours, as is easier to do on a planet such as Penacony.

He stops in front of your room, and raises his fist to knock gently on the door.

“Mx. [Name]?” he says gently, not wanting to wake the others - if they were even in their rooms. He knows Firefly isn’t; she must still be on Penacony.

There’s no response from you. Sunday clears his throat, and knocks again. He gives it another 30 seconds before he concedes. You’re not in there, for whatever reason. Perhaps you’re back in the kitchen? Or maybe your office?

He decides to check the kitchen first - it isn’t too far from the residency hall. Once he arrives, however, he’s met with the sight of another Stellaron Hunter, one he hasn’t met but knows his face.

Blade sits at the dining table, chair pushed too far back for Sunday’s comfort and whetting a broken sword. Sunday had expected him to be tall, his clothes were already proof of that, but he hadn’t expected the man to be massive. He’s at least a head taller than himself, which doesn’t help his intimidating aura. He seems to be of Xianzhou descendance.

The man looks up briefly as Sunday enters the room. His eyes are sharp, more hostile and more aggressive than any of the other hunters. They drown in a bright red, with flecks of gold coming through. Instantly all of Sunday's nerves are set ablaze, and they cry out danger and urge him to run.

The two stare at each other for what seems like an eternity. Sunday breaks from the daze first and offers Blade a cordial smile.

“Ah, you must be Mr. Blade,” he greets, resting a hand over his heart. “I’m Sunday, the newest addition to the Hunters.”

Predictably, the other man doesn’t reply. Internally, Sunday sighs. This was going to be awkward.

“I must thank you for lending me your clothes,” he continues, opening the fridge. He figures he might as well have breakfast before going to meet you. He hopes that none of the food has been claimed beforehand, and he’s pleasantly surprised. 

Everything is labeled by sticky notes (he sees your rice from yesterday with the sticky notes labeling them as Silver Wolf’s and Firefly’s), and what isn’t is up seemingly for grabs. Seeing as how Blade isn’t up to a conversation, he opts to grab a small yogurt bowl for his breakfast.

It’s only when Sunday sits down to eat that Blade finally speaks. 

“It was a trivial matter,” he says. His voice fits him, dark and raspy. “Save your gratitude for another time.”

Sunday hums. “It may seem trivial, but I would’ve had to sleep in my uniform had it not been for you. Thanking you is the least I could do.”

“Hmph.” Blade raises his gaze from his sword to assess Sunday. His gaze lingers on his hands for a few seconds. Sunday suppresses the urge to cover them up. “Have you ever wielded a sword?”

“No, I’m afraid not.” Sunday shakes his head. “My abilities are more dependent on the mind rather than the body.”

Blade scoffs, but it doesn’t feel derogative. “You’ll need to learn to wield a weapon if you want to survive.”

“...Thank you for the advice. I’ll keep that in mind.”

The conversation ends there. Blade goes back to sharpening his sword, and Sunday quickly finishes his breakfast. Standing up, he throws away the plastic bowl.

“Say,” he says, “might you have any idea where Mx. [Name] is?”

This time, Blade doesn’t look up.

“They’re preparing for your trip in the docks.” Sparks fly as he sweeps the whetstone down the blade. “Go down that hall and take the elevator to the lowest floor. You’ll find them there.”

He’s more kind-hearted than he lets on, Sunday observes. He smiles. “Thank you.”

Blade doesn’t reply.

Sunday briefly considers asking Blade for spare gloves, but after taking one look at the man’s bandaged hands, he drops it. They wouldn’t fit him anyway. Better to ask Kafka, or even you.

As he follows Blade’s directions and makes his way to the docks, Sunday can’t help but marvel at the sheer size of the spaceship. He wasn’t lying when he told you how long it’d been since he’d last left Penacony; he’d forgotten how big spaceships could get. The Delphi itself could be a miniature planet.

He finds the elevators in no time. The music that plays as he descends is… strange, to say the least. Classical instruments and synths make for an interesting combination, but he can’t say that it’s bad. Just unusual.

Then again, just about everything in this ship is. He crosses his arms and leans back against the elevator, training his eyes on the bulbous light in the ceiling. He already misses the serenity of Dewlight Pavilion and the roar of Golden Hour.

It finally dawns on him that he’ll never see those sights again. He’ll never again board the Radiant Feldspar or the Eventide of Blue Hour, watch with mild interest the events of Scorchsand, or browse the various stores in Dusk with his sister, knowing that he’d never actually buy anything. If he had known that he’d never come back, he would’ve bought something as a keepsake.

Sunday sighs, closing his eyes and waits for the elevator to arrive. The Delphi has a total of ten floors - what for, he can find out another time. He doesn’t feel like roaming.

A clear ding alerts him of his arrival. The elevator doors open soundlessly to reveal the docks. 

As he walks in, he counts a total of five spaceships, each the size of a private jet. Like the room doors upstairs, each is customized to its owner, although this time the individuality is restricted to color schemes. There’s one empty dock, where he assumes the ship that carried Firefly to Penacony usually sits - although he doesn’t think that it was hers.

“You’re up early.”

Sunday manages to hide his flinch. You emerge from your personal spaceship. You’ve changed clothes, now dressed in something more appropriate for an outing. It’s casual, yet chic - internally, he nods in approval.

“Good morning.” Sunday nods to you. “How are the preparations going?”

You sit down on the front of the ship and cross your legs. “Just finished. Have you eaten?”

“Of course.”

“That’s good. I was worried you wouldn’t.” You look him up and down. “I had my doubts, but Blade’s clothes surprisingly look good on you.”

You were worried? Sunday brushes off the thought with a hum. “I appreciate the compliment. Although,” he massages his wrist, “I couldn’t find any gloves that would go along with the outfit. In fact, I was hoping that-”

“That I’d have some?” You raise a brow. 

“...yes,” Sunday finishes. You click your tongue, looking around you before sighing.

“Only gloves I’ve got are the ones I’m wearing,” you say. You begin to pull off the black gloves from your fingers. Sunday stiffens.

“Oh, you don’t have to trouble yourself-”

“Relax, princess, it’s not a big deal,” you chuckle. Indignation flashes in him at the nickname - he wants to correct you, but he’s beginning to think that it’s a waste of effort.

Sliding off the spaceship, you search through your pockets before pulling out a small object. When you hold it into the light, Sunday recognizes it as a simple ring. His confusion must show on his face, for you are quick to offer an explanation.

“This is a perception interceptor. You can get it customized later down the line, but for now you’ll have to make due with the ring. Just press on it like this,” you demonstrate, pressing on the round, pearl-like button, “and you’ll be absolutely unremarkable to passerby and cameras alike. We can still see you normally, though. Perks of making them in a set.”

“Fascinating.” Sunday gingerly accepts your gloves and ring. The ring expands to fit him as he slides it onto his ring finger, and then he covers it with your gloves. They don’t fit him exactly, and they’re warm from when you were wearing them, but they’ll make due for now. Internally, he sighs in relief at his now-covered hands. “So when do we depart?”

“Aw, that eager to hang out with me? Didn’t realize you were already so attached,” you tease, laughing as Sunday rolls his eyes. “But seriously, you’re here a lot earlier than I expected. I was planning on grabbing breakfast before heading out.”

“I don’t believe we’re in any rush, so you still can,” Sunday offers, feeling a bit guilty, but you shake your head.

“It’s fine, I’ll just grab something from Euphrosyne. I’m sure you’re eager to get out of the old man’s clothes.”

“That’s not-” Sunday sighs, pinching his nose as you blatantly ignore him.

You hop down into the dock and wave your hand over some sort of sensor. A door slides open on the side of your spaceship, and you make a show of bowing to him.

“After you.” Sunday rolls his eyes for the third time since he’s arrived.

He carefully jumps down, taking great care not to ruin his appearance. He hunches briefly as he enters the ship, wincing as his halo knocks against its ceiling. The ship itself is rather cozy, with just enough room in the back for passengers.

You amble in after him after rechecking outside for safety reasons and make yourself comfortable in the pilot seat. The door closes soundlessly behind you. Buttons and switches click and systems sing as the ship starts up. He hears the engine fire up, and before he knows it, you’re pulling out of the Delphi and the view of the dock is replaced by the stars.

“Say,” you speak up after a few minutes of silence. “I forgot to ask, but how did you sleep last night? Most people don’t wake up that early.”

He debates whether or not he should tell you. “I slept fine, thank you. My body is simply accustomed to waking early for work.”

“Damn. I couldn’t do that,” you reply, despite clearly having woken up early to get ready. “But if on the chance that you have trouble sleeping, I have supplements that can help. Blade takes them sometimes.”

“He does?” Sunday says in surprise. You nod.

“Yeah, he’s the reason I started making them. But I have been thinking of forcing Silver Wolf to take some too - that girl will not sleep unless you tie her to the bed.”

The thought of a Stellaron Hunter with a 5 billion credit bounty being forced to bed like a child brings an amused smile to Sunday’s face. “Is that right?”

“You’d be surprised by how stubborn she is.” Despite your words, a fond smile comes to your face. Sunday knows that look well - it’s the look he wears whenever he talks about Robin. Perhaps the two of you were more similar than he thought. “But as I was saying, if you ever need help sleeping, you can always come to me and I’ll drug you up.”

Nevermind. You’re horrible.

“Your wording leaves much to be desired.” He crosses his arms and turns away from you. You chuckle.

“I just tell it like it is.”

Sunday scoffs. He doesn’t even want to bother with replying.

Leaning his head against the window, he busies himself with staring at the stars. They move aimlessly in clouds of various colors, glittering and burning all the same. With nothing to keep him distracted, his mind wanders back to that morning.

“You’ll never fly again.”

He inhales deeply. He glances at you in the pilot seat.

Here goes nothing.

“Mx. [Name],” he begins hesitantly, “What you said about my wings, when we first met.”

In the rearview mirror, you glance back at him. Sunday clears his throat, hastily turning back to the nebulae to avoid your gaze.

“As a medical… professional,” he says the last word uncertainly, “do you think I’ll ever return to the skies, with the state that they’re in?”

He hears you sigh. “I won’t lie, they’re pretty bad.” Sunday’s fingers dig into his arm. Anxiety already begins to reemerge. “But, it’s not irreparable.”

His wings perk up. Hopefully, his eyes flicker to you for a moment before returning to the cosmos.

“Tell you what, when we get back after this whole thing,” you roll back your shoulders, “I’ll take another look at them for you and we can go from there.”

“...Thank you,” he whispers, allowing more relief to show than he intended.

It doesn’t take long before the outside view changes once again. In the distance, he sees a ball covered in billions of individual little lights and swarmed with ships of all kinds, whether they be delivery ships, general travel, or personal. As your ship joins the swarm that encircles the glittering planet, you reach up and press a button on the ceiling. A loud whoosh sounds as a holographic cloak enshrouds your ship.

“Might want to activate the ring soon,” you call back. “We’ll be landing in a few.”

Sunday nods. He feels for where the ring lays under your gloves and presses down on the button, hearing as it clicks. A cold feeling washes over him like wind. Up front, he sees you adjust your wristwatch before returning your focus to landing the ship.

As you approach the docks of Euphrosyne, Sunday is able to make out buildings upon buildings, all tall and grandiose and glowing. People from all across the universe bumble about like ants on the sidewalks as traffic flows quickly and efficiently through the streets. More than once he sees the holographic symbol of the IPC flashing on the numerous billboards of the cities.

A pang of homesickness clenches his heart.

“Welcome to Euphrosyne, planet of Indulgence,” you announce. You park the ship neatly alongside many others before you stand up, stretching. Sunday hates the way he’s comforted when you smile down on him. “Ready to rebrand?”

Rebrand, he repeats in his head. Yes, the Sunday of the Oak Family was no more - that was an indistinguishable fact. Penacony is no longer the place he calls home, and the Family is no longer his.

All he is now is Sunday. Just Sunday.

He’s scared, but he has no other choice.

He stands up.

“Let’s head out, shall we?”

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reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[shroomi1e]

❝ i object! ❞

kazuha + albedo

summary: you as a noble should naturally marry another noble, despite your love for another. your parents had managed to pry your lover off of you and get you wedded to a powerful nobleman- that is, until your past lover comes barging through the doors on your wedding day.

cw: gn!reader, arranged/forced marriage, teeny tiny bit of alcohol, angst to comfort

what i listened to while writing: wave - wave to earth

a/n: *slowly crawls out of my cave* hey guys. it's me again😭 i randomly got the motivation to write again, idk what demons possessed me to write this in the span of 5 hours but at least i have new content!!!! i was gonna do this with more characters but kazuha and albedo were the only ones i see pulling this cheesy-typa stuff tbh

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kazuha

“…what?”

your gaze fell down towards the wooden docks you were standing on. kazuha frowned, his grasp on your hand loosening. he was aboard the crux, and the crew was preparing to leave inazuma for another trip to liyue.

“i’m from one of the tri-commissions, kazuha,” you said defeatedly. “it’s over for us now. i’m going to be wedded as an alliance with another commission. i… i’m sorry…” but before kazuha could respond, the large ship began to sail away, his hands completely slipping away from yours.

kazuha leaned over the edge of the ship, watching your figure get smaller and smaller. though he hoped you would at least give him a wave goodbye, you simply turned around and left the docks of ritou, leaving him saddened and confused.

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kazuha spent the next month lost in his thoughts. ink blots were all that filled the pages of his journal now that he’s lost his muse.

“it’s over for us now.”

those words played in his mind like a broken record in hopes that maybe he could find a sense of doubt from those words, just a hint that it wasn’t truly over. he’s tried to understand, truly. but the thought of losing you ate kazuha up from the inside, especially knowing that he had no control over it. there weren’t any flaws in him or you that caused this, only circumstance. and that stung his heart more than anything.

despite kazuha’s wishes and prayers, the wedding would happen either way. news eventually reached his ears that two commissions from inazuma would be joined through a marriage between the two heirs, and that was when kazuha truly felt like he was losing control. you were being swept away so suddenly, carried away in the arms of another man. what was he to do?

you were being fitted into a kimono that very second, the maids tying the knots and wrapping the fabric around your body. your limbs felt heavy like lead, your head hanging low like rotten fruit on a tree. you tried to live in a fantasy just for at least a few moments, imagining that kazuha was the one you were being wed to, not a nobleman.

kazuha almost felt like a dream now that he was gone, as if he was only a fleeting imagination before you had to wake up to reality. the ephemeral touches, the honey-dipped sunsets, the smell of salt and the sea. that was all simply an illusion. you had to go back to the wooden floors, the inked papers and the melting candles. this was reality now, where everything was out of your control.

“this is all for the sake of our family, you know that?” your father’s voice broke your train of thought. “think of this as a way to pay us back for raising you. you’re much better off with a nobleman than that wandering fugitive anyways.”

you grit your teeth and tightened your fist, your knuckles whitening. “i know.”

the ceremony went through in a daze, the sacred sake tasting bitter on your tongue. a part of you felt like you should’ve just jumped on that ship along with kazuha. regret sat in your stomach like a sickly bag of bleach. but you knew it was for the better, both for you and your family.

after the vows, the priest then asked, “does anyone here object to the wedding?”

a heavy silence followed. the two of you were heirs to the biggest commissions in inazuma, it was obvious that nobody would dare to object this wedding. your gaze fell further down in defeat. it was really happening now.

“i object!”

your head snapped up from the ground and turned towards the voice. at the end of the crowd stood kazuha, the wind blowing softly through his hair, the golden light from the sunset outlining his silhouette.

emotions rushed through your chest: happiness, regret, sadness, doubt, and guilt. the cup you were holding dropped to the ground and shattered. the crowd began to murmur and gossip.

“kazuha,” you breathed out.

the crowd parted to make way for your lover, who confidently walked towards you and held his hand out. everything around you seemed to suddenly disappear the moment your fingertips met his. it was only the two of you now.

“kazuha… what on earth are you doing here?”

“i just need you to answer one question for me,” kazuha said softly. “do you trust me?”

by the way he eagerly interlocked his fingers with yours, his intentions were obvious. if you were to answer this question, it would mean throwing away everything you’ve known thus far: your family, your possessions, your wealth, your inheritance, your responsibilities. everything. but with the way kazuha was silently pleading you with his eyes… how could say no?

you let out a shaky breath. “i do.”

kazuha merely smiled in return, his eyes softening as if to tell you that everything was going to be alright. that he understood your choices, and that all you need to do was take this final leap of faith.

“hurry up kazuha!” beidou’s voice interrupted. a few meters away, the crux was anchored to the docks, the crew eagerly waiting to set sail. “the guards might come and take ya anytime soon!”

kazuha held your hand tightly and began running towards the docks, the two of you giggling as he helped you up on the ship. the nobleman, priest, and the crowd all watched in disbelief as you hopped onto the crux, sailing away with the samurai.

the crew cheered as you and kazuha shared a kiss of reunion, the anchor lifting from the seafloor and the two of you sailing away into the golden sun, just like you were meant to be.

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albedo

“i…see.” albedo’s eyes wander off to nowhere in particular after hearing your explanation. he blinks a few times as if to confirm that he wasn’t dreaming.

“it’s not your fault, albedo, and neither is it mine,” you added. “i hope you understand.”

for the first time since albedo was created, he feels numb. his fingertips lose grip as it all finally settles in. you’re leaving him for another man.

of course, he knows that’s not really the case. albedo understands your circumstance as well as the political powers at play, but at the end of the day, that’s what’s happening, right? you’re being wedded off to another man, which of course means you’ll have to leave him.

and when he sees you take off your ring- the ring he gave you- and put it on his desk, his heart shatters. you silently take your leave, disappearing into the dragonspine snow. albedo’s gaze is immediately pulled to the golden band on his desk, which seemed so much duller now that it wasn’t on your finger.

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projects seem more pointless than ever before, and piles of crumpled up drafts fill albedo’s trash bin. he’s taken down all the portraits of you in his home because it was too painful to bear, yet he can’t deny that he was still hopelessly in love with you. the thought of you standing at the altar with another man made albedo positively sick. and there was nothing he could do about it.

he even decided to abandon his projects to visit the city in hopes that he could catch a glimpse of you, but you never seemed to be there. he’d wander for what seemed like hours, only for it to be in vain. ‘of course,’ he tells himself, ‘they’d be busy preparing for the wedding.’

the ring in his pocket weighs heavier than before. he takes it out and twirls it in his hand, the afternoon sun reflecting off of it almost blindingly. the church bells ring in the distance, as well as the melody from the church organ.

wait… the organ is playing.

albedo clasps his hand around the ring tightly before frantically running up the stairs towards the cathedral. the scent of flowers fills his nostrils as he makes his way past the statue of barbatos and climbs the final flight of stairs until he’s met with the wooden doors of the cathedral.

he won’t lose you. he can’t lose you.

albedo’s hands feel heavy as his palm rests flat against the door. once the organs stop playing, the faint voice of a priest could be heard from outside. he can hear the nobleman say his vows, then you. his flat palm turns into a fist as he contemplates what to do next. he’s never liked crowds, nor has he ever liked being the center of attention. this could certainly ruin his reputation, and hell, the clan you’re getting married to might even get him fired but-

the thought of you being by his side again gives albedo more than enough courage to push against the doors.

“does anyone object to this wedding?”

with one strong push, the doors swing open. sunlight spills into the cathedral and forms a path of light leading to you. and dear lord barbatos, you look breathtaking.

albedo watches as you turn around in confusion. the ring you were holding in one hand clatters to the floor, echoing down the hall.

though albedo had planned on walking towards you, he couldn’t help but start running down the aisle. panting, he turns to the priest. “i object this wedding. i am their rightful lover, am i not?”

you step down from the altar, your hands reaching to caress his face and gently wipe the sweat from his forehead. “even after everything i told you… you still came. i tried so hard to hurt your feelings, so why are you here?”

despite the tears pooling in your eyes, you’re smiling. and that’s all albedo needed to see. “i must be going insane, y/n. i’m not one to act like this.”

he kneels down right then and there, holding up the ring with two of his fingers. “will you marry me?”

you take a moment to look down at albedo, who’s kneeling before you in a silent plead. the faint bags under his eyes are proof enough that he’s missed you. your family would hate you for this. doing this would mean to be shunned and disowned from your clan. the support you once had would dissipate in an instant. albedo might be put in danger as well. but you’d rather have nothing and albedo rather than everything but albedo.

“yes,” you said before sliding the ring on your ring finger, right where it belonged. you grab albedo’s arm and run out the cathedral, much to the protest of your family sitting at the pews.

you skip down the steps in a hurry before turning your head to see albedo smiling softly. you’re dolled up, and the afternoon glow of the sun hits your face just perfectly. and with his ring resting on your finger, albedo can’t help but simply adore you.

‘you are killing me softly,’ he thinks, ‘yet you seem to be the only thing keeping me alive.’

[drysdalesworld]

puppy love

luke hughes x fem!reader

youruser just posted!

liked by yourbestie, userone, and more

youruser: on today’s adventure with bandit and y/n, we almost got run over by a (nearly blind) 6’2 blond who didn’t see us crossing the street (i was wearing a bright pink shirt) & are forever scarred from the experience. tho, he apologized with mcdonalds & gave bandit all the kisses in hopes of forgiveness (he forgave him 🙄 – my villain origin story fr). anywho, glad we survived & came out unscathed 💪

( loading comments ! )

yourbestie: you gave me a literal heart attack when you called me saying you almost died. i was nearly ready to run to your aid bbg 😪

userone: babes, you let him into your home?? mans NEARLY killed you

youruser: he’s very charismatic

youruser: & persuasive

usertwo: i love hearing about y/n and bandit’s daily adventures. it’s like the highlight of my day fr

markestapa: hearing about this the minute it happened is truly an experience i will never forget

edwards73: i legit thought he was crying lol

rutgermcgroarty: “i just almost hit a pretty girl and her puppy. im legit the worst person to ever walk this earth!”

dylanduke25: hearing her cuss him out in the background is my roman empire fr

markestapa: she said some very colorful words to our boy 😂

userthree: all these umich boys in y/n’s comments & yet none of them are exposing who it is 😭

userfour: fr like i need to know❗️❗️

edwards73: he told me to tell you that he will buy you all the mcdonalds you want if you forgive him

youruser: i’ll think it about it

markestapa: he’s literally begging on his knees

userfive: damn whoever it is, they’re exposing him lol

yoursibling: of course this happens to you smh

yourbestie2: bandits new dad??? 👀

lhughes_06 just posted!

liked by seamuscasey26, _quinnhughes, and more

lhughes_06: i’ve been promoted to dog walker 🐕👨‍🦯

tagged: youruser

( loading comments! )

youruser: the best dog walker there is!

luca.fantilli: bandit literally dragged him down the street

dylanduke25: & he’s like a fifteen pound dog. that dog’s stronger than luke

userone: ngl i was expecting a bigger reveal

_quinnhughes: at least he’s learning some responsibility

usertwo: the second pic ❤️❤️❤️

userthree: i wonder how luke truly did not see y/n when she was crossing the road?? like what was boy doing to NOT see her?? 🤔

youruser: that’s what i’ve been wondering these past few months lhughes_06

lhughes_06: oops??? i told you i didn’t see you cross the street 😫

jackhughes: boy ik you lying since your head practically hits the top of the car roof. you def saw the poor girl 😭 lhughes_06

markestapa: bring bandit over more often please 🙏🤍

userfour: not jack exposing luke in userthree’s comment thread 👀

youruser just posted!

liked by elhughes, adamfantilli, and more

youruser: nearly three years with you and all you had to do was nearly kill me and my dog to get my attention 💓💓

tagged: lhughes_06

( loading comments! )

jackhughes: ahh, puppy love ❤️

lhughes_06: you’re never going to let that go are you? 🫤

youruser: lemme think….🤔

youruser: uh no <3

yourbestie: i better be the maid of honor 💢❗️

edwards73: i cant wait to hear about how they met at their wedding. what a meet cute fr

elhughes: i hope he’s learned his lesson by now! 💛💙

youruser: of course mama hughes! im just giving him a hard time 🤍

userone: if i don’t meet my future partner like this, then i don’t want it ❗️❗️

usertwo: i can’t believe it’s been three years! bandits so big now :(

userthree: ikr! feels like just yesterday i stumbled upon y/n’s post about it

userfour: how the time flies

rutgermcgroarty: i volunteer to be bandit’s sitter during your dates!

seamuscasey26: hey no fair! i called dibs first!

lhughes_06: god i love you

youruser: i love you too lukey 💞

[mickyschumacher]

hi love!! Could you write something about Charles x actress!reader where he gets jealous of one of readers ex boyfriend who’s famous and maybe leads to smut?

(i really hope it makes sense, english is not my first language 😭😭)

thank you !!🩷🩷

𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: jealousy is a disease. and it's latest victim is your boyfriend, charles leclerc.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors DNI), jealousy obviously, zayn is kind of a dick bless him 😭, unprotected sex (wrap your tippy pls), praise, blowjob, fingering, oral sex, p in v, orgasm denial, mutual orgasms, cumming inside, mentioning power couple tomdaya ♡︎, sucky media as per usual :/

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: charles leclerc x famous actress!fem!reader, ex!zayn malik x reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4k+

𝐀/𝐍: if i don't get to see charles and zayn in one room irl, i'll just write them in one room if that’s okay :( on another note, i hope this was what you wanted anon! and your english is fine, love. sorry for the wait ♡︎ // questionably written and proof-read on a jetlagged mind

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆

There were many things Charles understood well. Family, racing, the politics of racing... but one thing he would never truly understand was how he got you.

The Y/N L/N. An Oscar-winning, multitalented, down-to-earth, and gorgeous actress who had entirely won the public's hearts along with Charles'. The actress who had managed to rule the industry that most were born into.

How on earth had he gotten so lucky?

Charles couldn't deny that he was Ferrari's golden boy nor that he had become a fame athlete. But got you were on another level.

For what it was worth, Charles was a confident man. He thought he cleaned up quite well, he knew his mother raised him right, he knew that charisma itself was scared of him.

Yet, all that confidence came crashing down when it came to your ex.

Zayn Malik.

If Charles could ignore him, he would. But Zayn was everywhere. On his Twitter, on his TikTok, on his Instagram... his fans and your fans especially loved him. Why wouldn't they? He was a literal Greek, well South Asian, god part of arguably one of the best boy band's in history with a voice that had been blessed by Heaven's angels themselves.

When fans questioned why you and Zayn had broken up and you had moved on with an F1 driver, Charles found himself quietly agreeing.

But then he realised that by his side was you. You weren't next to Zayn or anyone else. You were with Charles because you loved him and he loved you. And that was more than enough.

That being said, Charles couldn't help feel a bit maddened at headline he had woken up to this morning.

You let out a small yawn. Sunday mornings were the most calm for you. Especially when you had managed to snag Charles for the week. You turned to your awoken boyfriend with a smile before frowning. "What's on that screen that made you look like this, amour (love)?" You queried, rubbing a finger over the crease between his eyebrows.

Charles looked up from his phone, smiling at the sight of your face. "Nothing, mon amour (my love)," the Monégasque dismissed, pressing a kiss to your forehead before pulling you close to him.

Naturally you would've snuggled yourself into him but you could tell he was upset. "No, Cha. Tell me what's wrong. What can I do to turn that frown upside down? Hmm?" You softly asked, peeking up at him while you rested your head on his chest.

You could feel Charles' body convulse as he let a gentle chuckle pass his lips. "I can never hide anything from you, hmm? It's really nothing, Y/N. Just a stupid headline."

You mended your brows, taking his phone from his hand. If you knew anything about headlines, most of them were never good. Your eyes had captured the photo of your ex first, making you deflate a little. You continued to read the headline that made you and Zayn sound like you were still together and then went to the little summary below it.

"They're 'dying to know what happens?'," You huffed, closing his phone. You pursed your lips and peered over Charles. "I swear I didn't know he was coming, Cha. I promise. We can totally skip if you don't want the drama. I'm okay with that. We can lounge in the house and do nothing," You offered.

Charles smiled softly at your words. You were always thinking of everyone but yourself. "Thank you but I wouldn't miss you winning these awards for the world, ma belle (my beautiful). You deserve to win these awards and I'm going to watch you do it. Nothing could ruin tomorrow for me."

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A few hours into the Oscars, after parading the red carpet and gushing over you with interviewers, Charles was quite sure he was right. Nothing could ruin tonight because, god, were you a sight to behold.

You had captured everyone's eyes. Talking to your stylist months ago, you had accomplished your two wishes about your appearance at the Oscars: simplicity and red.

Red on a red carpet was always a bold choice but this year's carpet was a light grey. Dressed in a custom red ball gown, a matching silk shawl and a simple necklace, you had blown everyone away.

The amount of people that had solely come to your table to compliment you was surreal. But Charles couldn't argue with them. You were surreal. When he first saw you come out of the dressing room, he could've sworn his heart had stopped and for a moment, he seriously considered your offer yesterday morning.

The most beautiful person in the world loved him. Nothing could ruin the storm whirling in his stomach. The same storm he had felt when he was trying to muster the courage to talk to you when you first met at a tennis match in Monaco.

As you two conversed with your manager about the after party activities you were considering attending, Charles and you heard a voice that was all but too familiar.

"Y/N," The voice greeted.

You knew it was Zayn. You also knew how Charles felt. So you turned around with what you thought was enough confidence and greeted him. "Zayn," You breathed out with a small smile.

"It's been a while. You look out of this world. Beautiful as always," Zayn grabbed your hand and left a small kiss.

Oh good lord.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Charles tense. You cleared your throat. "Thank you. You look.. uh, amazing as always too," You complimented awkwardly, eyes darting anywhere but his face.

Before Zayn could fill the upcoming silence with any unnecessary compliments, you linked your hand through Charles' arm. "This is Charles. My boyfriend," You smiled proudly.

Charles' could feel his heart speed up. He gave a kind smile to the singer, jutting out his hand for him to shake.

Zayn poked his tongue against the inners of his cheek, eyeing Charles' hand before returning the gesture. He locked eyes with the Monégasque, tilting his head to the side. "Right. The driver, right?"

Jesus. For a second you had forgotten why you broke up with him.

"Yeah... the racing driver," Charles responded with a tight voice and slightly narrowed eyes.

A nervous laugh fell from your lips. "O-Okay. I think we're gonna head over to Tom and Zendaya. Uh, see you around, Zayn, hmm?"

Zayn moved his eyes from Charles to you. He gave his usual charming smile. Putting his hand on your shoulder, he said, "Yeah, sure. I'm always around as you know."

Charles felt his jaw lock as he watched Zayn's hand fall from your shoulder and trail loosely down your arm before he left. "See you, Y/N. Goodbye Charlie."

━━━━━━━━━━━

The after parties were a no go. For the first time in your life you couldn't tell what Charles was thinking. The silence after Zayn left and the car ride home was unbearable. You tried to comfort him by putting your hand over his and assuring him that Zayn was just a classified dick, but nothing came from Charles.

What you did know was that Charles was pissed. The tight grip on the steering wheel, his flexed jaw, the hardened eyes... all signs of an angry Charles.

Arriving home, you both entered your bedroom after taking your shoes off. You looked over to Charles. God the silence was unnerving. "Charles? Amour, are you okay?" You asked once again.

Charles sat on the bed, looking at you stand in front of him. His mind was going as fast as the cars he drove. 'Out of this world?' All Charles could think was that he was going to fuck you out of this world. He wasn't angry about the snide remarks. He was angry that he was even jealous of such a pathetic human being. Moreover, he was furious over those small touches of his.

"Chérie (Sweetheart), come here. Let me help you change," Charles smiled, his hand beckoning for you to come towards him.

You sighed, walking over to him. You could see his hands aching to grab you but instead you stretched out your hand to touch his hair. Charles closed his eyes at the feeling. "Cha... I'm sorry about him. He's an asshole," You apologised, now rubbing his cheek gently.

Charles leaned into your caress, fluttering his eyes open so you could see those soft baby blues you had completely fallen head over heels for. "It's not your fault, chérie. I think he's regretting leaving the most smartest and beautiful woman in the world. You have nothing to apologise for."

You chuckled softly, trying to disguise how touched you felt. Charles complimented you like this all the time and it never got easier. No one had treated you like this before and especially not Zayn.

"Now come on," Charles stood up from the bed and turned you around, "Let's get this off." A small kiss was planted on the side of your cheek as Charles' eyes twinkled through the mirror across you.

You smiled warmly at him and nodded. You watched him take the red straps off of your shoulders, leaving a trail of warm kisses on either side. You sighed calmly. His hands trailed to the zip of the dress, pulling it down, he explored the smooth of your back, placing a kiss on the back of your neck. Charles gently pushed down the red gown, letting it pool at your bare feet.

You reached to the back of your neck to take off the gorgeous silver necklace you had worn but Charles stopped you by grabbing your wrists. "Leave it," He whispered, grazing your arms with his touch.

An involuntary shiver came over you at his voice and from the air rushing against your bare skin.

You could feel Charles' lips quiver at the side of your face. "Cold? Let me warm you up, mon amour."

You drew a quiet, sharp breath as you felt him move your chin so you could properly see him in your mirror. His ring-adorned hand travelled from your neck and down the valley of your breasts, ensuring to make the extra effort to glide over your nipples with the metal band.

Your breath hitched as one hand began to rub your hardened nipple while the other continued to travel down your stomach. "Charles..." You sighed out, feeling a familiar burn spark in the pits of your stomach.

Charles hummed in response, meeting your eyes in the mirror with lust and a tint of smugness. The corner of his lips quirked up, feeling you tense as he neared your pussy. Through the thickness of his own clothes, he could feel your skin begin to burn.

His cock hardened at your reaction. He had barely even done anything and his name was already falling from your lips.

His fingers continued to creep down your stomach, feeling the heat from your core radiate. A sigh of pleasure fell from his mouth as he pressed his two fingers into your folds. He could feel your arousal encompassing his fingers.

"So wet, ma chérie," Charles moaned in your ear, making you return the sinful sound back. "All for me, hmm? No one else gets you this wet, do they, chérie?"

You squirmed against him as Charles' fingers moved from the soft lips of your pussy and ghosted your clit so damn slowly. Your hips bucked involuntarily with the crave of more.

Suddenly, his juice-ridden fingers were pressed up against your bundle of nerves while his other hand tugged at your lip, waiting for your answer.

"Shit, no. No one. Only you make me this wet, Cha," You whimpered, grinding your hips up against his fingers for more pressure.

Charles smiled in satisfaction. "Let's sit, hmm?" He said, tapping your clit.

You jolted at the action, feeling his hands wrap around your waist, seating you on his lap as he sat down on your bed. Your pussy throbbed at the loss of touch but ached for the hardness pressed up against you.

"Feel that, amour? That's what you do to me," Charles grunted, feeling an obscene high come over him when you started to grind down on his cock. God did you have him under your spell. Only you could put your bare pussy down on his cock and make him want to cum in seconds.

But how could you not. In the mirror you could see a sex-hazed Charles, skin flushed at your actions. It turned you on to see him lose control.

"Fuck," Charles moaned, stilling your hips from moving any further. Ignoring your whines, he pushed opened your legs, taking in the glistening view from the mirror. Bringing his two fingers to your mouth, you opened your lips and lapped at your arousal on his fingers.

"Merde," He sighed out, moving his lubed fingers to your pussy. He teasingly rubbed his fingers fully up and down, make you gasp at the coldness of his ring. Shit.

"Charles, please. I want your fingers," You groaned in frustration, thighs taking his fingers into a tight grip.

Charles chuckled, "Anything for you, princesse." He pushed his to fingers into the soft walls of your pussy.

The both of you moaned in unison, your head falling back on his shoulders. He watched eagerly as you enveloped his fingers entirely as if it was a magic trick of some sorts. The lewd sheen of you glimmered over his fingers while he thrusted them in and out.

"Look at you, chérie. Making a mess all over me," Charles smiled against your cheek as he looked down at his black trousers which now sported a darker stain.

Your warm walls clenched around his fingers, sending Charles on a journey to find that right spot both he and you craved so much. Charles could tell by the sudden parting of your lips and the jerk of your hips that he had reached it. His eyes flickered over to your face, bringing a small smug smirk to his mouth.

Your eyes brows were creased in the middle, laden with trickles of sweat building up while your mouth remained in a constant state of opening, letting those beautiful moans fall out as your chest heaved, craving more and more of him.

The trembles, the moans, the pure state of bliss you were in... it was all because of him. And Charles loved it.

Charles brought his thumb to your bundle of nerves, rubbing you in slow circles as he continued to push his digits in and out. He whispered softly, lips dancing against the curve of your ear, "You don't know how beautiful you looked tonight, mon amour. So many eyes on you. I bet they all thought the same thing... that you looked like a goddess. Sometimes I wish they could see what I'm seeing right now. This gorgeous body, your wet pussy trembling all over me, your swollen lips.... hear those pretty little moans of yours. Then they would realise... you are perfection. Unfortunately for them, they aren't the luckiest man alive. I am."

All of a sudden, all your emotions were rushing towards you. Hearing Charles' thick voice while his fingers fucked you sent you overboard. The ache of your core was climbing higher and higher, hips convulsing. "Fuck, Charles, I'm going to cum," You murmured with staggered pants, eyes fluttering shut.

Charles smiled softly, cock throbbing at the sight of you reaching your climax. But as much as Charles loved it, he needed his cock in your warm walls.

Your eyes snapped open as you felt Charles remove his fingers from your pussy, leaving his thumb circling your clit aggravatingly slow. Your walls clenched around nothing in the effort to grab the last sliver of euphoria that Charles had brought. "Charles," You whispered, almost with a sob, eyes shaking in both annoyance and lust.

Charles brought his lips to yours, softly hushing your cries. "I'm sorry, chérie, I need you." His baby blues bored into yours, taking you in.

Looking at Charles when he had said that, given how the night had played out, the tone of his voice told you everything you needed to know. "I know, amour. I need you too," You whispered back, giving him a long peck.

You sat up from his lap, turning to undo the buckle of his belt. The clangs echoed throughout the room as the tension between the both of you became heavier and desperate. Your hands raced to take off the strap while Charles itched to take off his stained pants, cock aching to come out.

Charles let out a low groan, feeling your warm breath on his bare cock as your removed his boxers. His Adam’s apple hitched as he felt your tongue take a long wet stripe of his cock.

His fingers itched to move you away and fuck you like he initially intended to, but the moment he felt your mouth sink down his shaft, his hand naturally fell into your hair. His cock fit perfectly in your mouth as if they were made for each other.

Charles' teeth sunk down on his bottom lip, baby blues eagerly watching you on your knees for him. His hand tightened around your hair as you hollowed your throat. With your eyes flickering to him as your teeth just grazed his cock, sending a tremor down his spine, he let out a series of soft moans. "Just like that, amour," He encouraged while you sucked him up and down.

Taking long licks at the shaft of his pulsing cock, you removed your lips briefly, resting them on his tip. "Only for you, Cha," You reminded him.

Charles held your gaze, feeling another shudder rip through his body. Jesus. Speechlessly he watched you bring your swollen lips back down his cock, hand gently reaching out towards his balls. Charles' hip jerked up at the sudden action, pushing his cock further down your throat.

The rasp of his grunt made you clench your thighs, feeling your pussy drip with arousal. You could feel his cock begin to move with Charles' control, high on the pleasure. Your throat fought to keep itself open, wanting every inch of him in your mouth.

Charles' pace began to speed as the sheer euphoria began to climb up. He averted his eyes to your face, feeling himself tighten further in your throat as seeing you take his cock was a different high on it's own. Your eyes were glassy, brimming with tears of brought of lust and arousal; saliva and sweat painted your skin with a glow he cherished. But what did it for him was the small bulge in your throat; all of him just in your throat.

God, did he just want to thrust himself harder till he came. He needed to cum... but not in your throat.

"Mon amour," Charles grunted, tapping the underside of your chin.

You moved your mouth from his cock, feeling his hand gently lift your chin as you stood from your knees. No words were needed as your eyes searched his.

Bringing your lips to his, Charles wrapped his arm around your waist, flushing your burning body to his unfairly clothed chest. Yet, you could feel the heat pouring off of him. You could barely breathe as you kissed Charles; the fervent need for each other was almost overwhelming.

You could feel his puffy lips slowly detach from yours, eyes staring into yours as he positioned his cock to your wet folds.

Something about this moment felt nostalgic, reminding you of your first time with Charles. The slow and careful movements, the way Charles looked at you as if he had the whole world in his eyes... as if everything was okay as long as you were by his side.

Fuck Zayn. Fuck everyone else.

All he needed was you and he had you... entirely.

You whimpered loudly, feeling his cock drive into you, filling you entirely. "Merde," you heard Charles cuss as he flung his hands onto your bare hips. The air that was once full of your pants and the obscene sounds of your lips sucking his cock was now full of your lewd moans and the sounds of your skin slapping and sticking against one another.

His hands gripped your hips tightly as Charles thrusted into you, losing himself in the feeling of your warm folds enveloping his cock, acting as some sort of siphon that he couldn't escape while he watched your breasts bounce. No... he was under your spell.

Those same thoughts wandered into his head as he rutted into you. How had he gotten so lucky? All he knew was that he must've been a good soul in every past life of his in order to get someone like you.

"Fuck," You cursed, back arching as your body welcomed each hit of euphoria. You burned with desire, humming with approval; cheeks aflame and moans slurred. Your pussy tightly wrapped around his cock began to clench as Charles' fingers had found their way to your clit.

A shiver shoots down Charles' spine as he watched your breasts come on full display. He bent his head down, hot tongue swiping over your nipple. He moaned against your now flushed breast. You were driving him insane. He couldn't think, he could barely speak. You had taken over any stability he once had.

"Charles," You rasped, feeling the coil at the bottom of your stomach tighten.

Charles softly smiled against your breast, detaching his mouth and increasing the pace of his hips against yours. His eyes flickered down to where his cock met your folds, falling into an entrance while he watched your arousal coat his cock.

"Cum for me, chérie," Charles encouraged, feeling your hands travel up his back, pressing into the fabric of his shirt, leaving no inch of his skin missed by you.

"Charles, Charles, Charles," You moaned his name; your favourite song. Your body trembled, melting against him as he tightened his grip on your hips, steadying you as a white light ripped past your eyes, hips bucking involuntarily to fully grasp the high of your climax.

Charles takes his turn at own favourite song; your name slipping from his lips, stuck on repeat. Your folds act as a vice, gripping him tightly. His cock throbbed, the heat of his skin rising. His pants turned higher and irregular, hips coming to a falter as he felt the hot white stripes of his cum coat your warm walls.

Charles' head fell back against the bed, slowly removing his softening cock from your pussy.

You let out a small sigh, almost collapsing against Charles if he hadn't wrapped his arms around your waist and brought you close to him. His blues eyes skimmed over your face, a small smile playing on his lips while he brushed your sweat ridden hair back; his fingers trailed over your swollen lips, tracing the trails of red lipstick that had escaped it's confines.

"You're coming to Monaco, right?" Charles asked softly.

You smiled at him, running your hand through those soft brown locks of his, trailing down his face and ending at his small dimple. Rubbing the spot in small circles, you earnestly whispered, "I wouldn't miss it for the world, Cha."

Charles' eyes softened, pressing a kiss to the side of your forehead. "I'm sorry about tonight, amour," He apologised, feeling a slight bit childish and guilty over his reaction.

You chuckled, shaking your head, moving to rub the familiar crease between his eyebrows. "He's an asshole, Cha. I don't know if I tell you enough, but you're the man that I love... forever. There's no one else for me."

"So cheesy," Charles jested even though you could tell what you had said meant a lot to him, especially given that he had tightened his grip around you.

"Only for you, Charles," You rolled your eyes before holding his gaze. "Only for you."

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[lecsainz]

Hi can you please do one about the Travis and Taylor rumours going around. Maybe like your Taylor’s sister dating Travis secretly for awhile now and your pregnant. And like the Taylor concert he went to he was like there with you and the football that Taylor went to she was like there with you. And it all comes out that he’s with you and not Taylor and they find out your pregnant and all and are so shocked and didn’t see it coming. Like if that makes sense 🙂

EVERYONE WAS WRONG

parings: travis kelce + swift!reader

author 🗒️’s: I missed writing smau 😭

summary: where you are taylor swift sister and there’s something with travis but everyone thinks he and taylor are dating.

✩. . . masterlist !

liked by selenagomez, icespice and 1.989.073 others

ynswift can I say I'm cheating on the eagles?

tag: @/taylorswift @/chiefs

see all 65.638 comments

taylorswift still can't believe you made me come to this game

⤷ ynswift didn't force you at all!

user6 love seeing the swift sisters together

killatrav It was nice meeting you, y/n

⤷ ynswift likewise, kelce

⤷ killatrav hope to see you girls at the next game

⤷ ynswift I need to check my schedule

user1 y/n being the cupid of tayvis

user Is it confirmed that taylor and travis are together???

⤷ user4 I think so

user2 she it's me in life: the friend who always couples people up

user5 andrea, please adopt me to be their sister!

⤷ ynswift mom said she'd adopt!

⤷ user5 OH MY GOD

philadelphiaeagles no comments

⤷ ynswift I swear we still loyal to your team

user7 I want a tayvis photo, make it happen y/n!

loading more comments . . .

Y/N and Travis had met during a The Eras concert, what seemed like a normal show turned into something entirely different. Y/N didn't expect it until she literally ran into this 6'5'' tall man. He was so much taller than her that she couldn't help but feel incredibly drawn to the unknown man, so much so that she forgot how to speak when he asked if she was okay.

Travis found the blonde girl utterly charming and just had to ask for her number. However, instead of getting her number, he received a polite but firm "no." That piqued the curiosity of the Kansas City Chiefs' tight end. With determination, he approached one of the security guards to inquire about the mysterious blonde girl. After a bit of investigating, he finally discovered that she was Y/N Swift, the younger sister of the famous Taylor Swift.

Travis couldn't help but be intrigued by this revelation. He felt compelled to get to know Y/N better, despite the initial rejection. It took him over a week to gather the courage to send her a direct message. When he did, he invited her to an Eagles game, which he later learned was the Swift family's favorite team, and having her older brother on the team made it easier to secure a private suite for their date.

As the two of them spent more time together, a genuine connection began to form. Y/N was captivated by Travis's charisma and his down-to-earth personality, something she hadn't experienced with anyone in a long time. Travis, on the other hand, was smitten with Y/N's intelligence, warmth, and her unique ability to make him forget about the pressures of the football field.

One date led to another, and before they knew it, they were deeply involved in a relationship that neither had anticipated. Their connection was electric, and they couldn't get enough of each other's company.

As the days turned into weeks and then into months, Y/N and Travis's bond grew stronger. They had shared dreams, inside jokes, and an unspoken understanding that went beyond the public eye. But their connection was shrouded in secrecy, as Y/N didn't want to overshadow her sister's fame and success.

Despite their efforts to keep things private, the media eventually caught wind of their relationship. Reports began to circulate, with speculations of a romance between Travis and Taylor Swift, not Y/N. The rumors hurt Y/N, as it seemed like her own life would always be overshadowed by her sister's immense fame.

Little did she know that amidst the media frenzy and the complications of their secret relationship, she would find herself facing an unexpected twist of fate – she was pregnant with Travis's child.

As days turned into weeks, Y/N couldn't keep the secret any longer. She knew she needed to tell Travis about the life-changing news, despite the fear and uncertainty that loomed over her. She had never been in a situation like this before.

One evening, she decided it was time to confide in Travis. With her heart pounding, she went to his house, her mind filled with thoughts of how he might react. Would he be overwhelmed? Would he want to be a part of this?

Travis opened the door and smiled warmly at her, inviting her in. Y/N took a deep breath and began, "Travis, there's something I need to talk to you about, something important."

Travis's expression shifted from curiosity to concern. "What's going on, Y/N? You look serious."

Y/N took a deep breath and began, "Travis, there's something I need to tell you. It's not easy, and we didn't plan for this, but..." She paused, her eyes glistening with emotion, "I'm pregnant."

For a few seconds, there was silence. Travis processed the information, and his eyes filled with a mix of emotions, but he didn't look away from Y/N. Then, a gentle smile crossed his face. "Y/N, are you serious? We're going to be parents?"

Y/N nodded with a soft smile. "Yes, Travis. I'm pregnant."

Travis leaned in closer, his face filled with emotion. "That's incredible! I can't believe it. I'm going to be a dad."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she saw his genuine excitement. "I'm so glad you're happy, Travis. I was worried about how you'd react."

Travis took her hands in his and looked deeply into her eyes. "Y/N, I couldn't be happier. This is a beautiful surprise, and I'm looking forward to this journey with you. We'll figure everything out together."

Y/N felt a wave of relief wash over her. She couldn't believe how supportive Travis was being. "Travis, you have no idea how much this means to me. I was so afraid to tell you."

Travis took her hand and said, "Y/N, I care about you more than I can express. In fact, there's something I've been wanting to ask you for a while now." He got down on one knee, pulling a small box from his pocket. "Will you do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend?"

Y/N's eyes welled up with tears of joy as she nodded and replied, "Yes, Travis, a thousand times, yes."

liked by taylorswift, annehathaway and 23.366.133 others ynswift & killatrav you said I do and I did too

comments have been limited

taylorswift so happy for you both 🤍 and travis you better take good care of my little sister!

austinkingsleyswift congrats sis!

jason.kelce finally, you guys announced it! I couldn't stand not being able to talk about it anymore. congratulations lovebirds!

chiefs welcome to chiefs family y/n!

donnakelce I'm so happy to have you in the family now y/n! 💕

[scented-morker]

Enha when their actress partner films with a hot actor

jealous boyfriend enha! established relationship, actress reader, 1164 words, requested!!

Heeseung

He pretends he's not phased at all

He knows you love him obviously, you spend like four hours a week crying and telling him how pretty he is and how much he means to you

But that was before he knew it was THE Song Kang

"Baby, he's literally the prettiest person ever!"

"You think he's prettier than me?" You pout

"Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answer to"

Homeboy is SWEATING watching you guys film

Literally saying a hallelujah when there's no romance between your characters

But when you come back and tell him he was right that it was the prettiest person ever he gets mad about it

LIKE YOU SAID IT FIRST ???!

But he wants to be the only boy you think is pretty 😔

Won't let you escape his grasp for the next week

Jay

Listen he likes to act all confident, but deep down he is a little bit insecure about his looks

So when you tell him you're filming with one of the actors who made "worlds most beautiful" list

😐 he is not impressed

On the outside he's all "oh that's cool"

But on the inside he's screaming crying throwing up

Wears the outfits he knows make you weak the whole week leading up to it

I'm talking turtle necks, rolled sleeves, rings, all of it 😵‍💫

His masterplan is working, and you get so affectionate you don't even want to leave him to film

He lowkey feels so silly about being jealous when on a film break you bring your costar over and introduce him to "the love of my life Jay"

Jake

Literally SO POUTY

"Noooo, baby do you haveee to??"

Acts like it's the worst thing to ever happen

"What if you just quit your job as an actress?? I can take care of you!! I'll pay for everything!! You'll never have to work again!"

"Jake, I like my job"

"But I thought you LOVED me!"

Insists on going with you to set (also leaves a hickey on you that your makeup artist is very mad about 😭)

You have to ignore him the whole time you're filming because you know he's making those injured puppy dog eyes and you just can't handle it

He literally is hanging out with the actor during one of his breaks tho so ???

He's all "yeah bro you're awesome" so you think it's all good now

But then you go over to them and he gives you the most mind melting, earth shattering, blush inducing kiss ever right in front of your coworker

You will never recover

Sunghoon

Tells you he's more attractive than the other guy 🤪

You tell him because you want to be open and warn him

But he's all "okay and? He's not better than me, why should I be worried?"

You're like wow my boyfriend is so mature and cool

But you realize very quickly that he is, indeed, worried

"Hey y/n, be honest. Do you prefer blondes or brunettes?"

"Hey y/n, do you think idols or actors would make better husbands?"

"Hey y/n, do you think onscreen chemistry ever transfers off screen?"

"I prefer whatever color is currently on your head, you over anyone of any profession, and I wouldn't know because I don't need to worry about that seeing as how I'm in a very happy relationship."

He grumbles at your answers, mad you caught on

He's not one for pda but he does bring you a bouquet and your favorite drink to the film sight <3

Sunoo

The guy was one of his favorite actors!!

He was so so excited for you to work with him, until he found out he was your love interest 😐

"YOURE GONNA KISS ANOTHER MAN?!?"

"Sun, he's married." 😒

"YEAH UNTIL HE FALLS IN LOVE WITH YOU AND GETS A DIVORCE!"

He boycotts the actors other shows 😭 whenever you guys hang out and watch dramas together he'll turn it off if the guy comes on screen

Eventually gives up on drama nights and makes you watch a bunch of enhypen performance videos instead

"Wahhh he's so handsome! Even more handsome then that actor, don't you think?"

"Yes Sun, you're way more handsome."

He's fishing for compliments but you don't care, willing to give him all the reassurances you have

You think he's gotten over it by the time filming comes up

But lo and behold... he's sent you an entire coffee truck with pictures of the two of you and messages about your relationship 😭

Jungwon

He wants SO BADLY to be okay with it 🥹

He was so supportive, celebrating with you when you first got the role and now coming to every filming that you have

Except he's noticed the slowly developing love story between you and the hottest guy on the show

So when you get the script for episode ten and read it to him he knows it's coming

"Oh, so you're like... gonna kiss someone else?"

You literally want to burst into tears, he's so precious and he looks like a little sad cat and just- 😭😭😭

"Yeah, but we've both been very open that we have partners! His girlfriend is on set all the time too! And you can totally be there when we film it!"

He shudders, "I'm not sure I want to"

But he goes anyway, and you introduce him to your costars partner

So now they're standing together, making small talk and looking away every time they say action

"I'm gonna need a drink," she mumbled after her boyfriend has to get his makeup fixed because of your lipstick on him

"Yeah, me too"

Riki

Listen, he is your number one fan

He’s seen every episode and won’t let you read him the script because he wants to find out with everyone else

He checks Twitter about it all the time too

So when soompi reports that there’s a new, very attractive guy on set— he sees it immediately

“Hey ynie~ can I come to filming with you?”

You’re so suprised, because he never wants to come with you

“Really? You’re not freaking out about it being spoiled for you?”

“I just want to be with you 🤷🏻‍♀️” he says it so nonchalantly like you’re not literally turning into mush because of it

“Okay!”

So fast forward, your hair and makeup is done, costume on, and you’re finally getting ready to film

You’re on set while the scene before you is shooting, and your boyfriend lets out a gasp

“Who is that shirtless man over there?”

You look over and shrug, explaining the new character

“Why is he shirtless??” Man is so fixated on this

“He’s always like that.”

“WHAT?”

There’s been a shirtless actor walking around you all days of the week and you hadn’t said anything

Steps up the pda immediately, holding your hand during off times and loudly cheering for you during shooting

By the end EVERYONE knew you were dating

[jinxs-gf]

The Human Spider

The Team x Spider!Reader

summary: you are this universe’s one and only spider-person.

warnings/content: set before the 1st episode of young justice s1, a few marvel references, this whole thing is from the perspective of the reader who’s basically Spider-Man so the writing is a bit silly…but I like it

word count: 2.1k

a/n: this is essentially an introduction to this world, I’m really hoping I can pop a couple fics within this little universe 😭🙏🏽 if not then…I’m sorry LMAO. only time will tell. ENJOY!!!

Life was good.

I mean, how could it not be? You got to fight side by side with some of Earth's greatest heroes. Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, Flash...oh and Black Canary and—

Yeah. It was great. Not to mention how incredibly easy it was for you to defeat the bad guys you'd fought. You definitely didn't have four near death experiences because of them!

Well you did, but they were completely your fault and not at the hands of a couple of phony villains. They happened before you got used to your powers and gone through extensive training.

It seemed like a curse at first, but now you take them with stride. Your super strength foreign as you'd broke nearly everything in your apartment (that hadn't been a fun thing to explain to your Aunt and Uncle when they came home to a trashed place). Sticky hands well...getting stuck to literally everything. The amount of money you spent replacing your clothes after accidentally ripping up your whole closet only trying to get ready for school...that was also not fun explaining to your guardians.

And the webs. Oh boy. You didn't want to think about it. The hole in your wrist that shot out webs like a proper spider freaked you out the most. You nearly turned yourself in to the government after that one. It was something that took the most mental work to control, the weird hole (yuck) closing up when you didn't need it.

The one thing you did appreciate immediately was the abs. Yeah, those were nice to wake up to one morning.

Today was just another day in your life. A simple mission happening in the middle of the city. Actually it was a pretty unusual mission, it wasn't the regular Ice Family or Joker cult you were fighting...but a Rhino. Seemingly a man in a Rhino cosplay. And his henchmen? Definitely not something you see everyday, but you have seen weirder.

Speaking of his henchmen...there was a lot of them. Enough to keep each member of the team occupied. They had insanely advanced weaponry, surprisingly keeping the fight going for a while.

You hadn't realized so many of the guys were on you now, all surrounding you and trying to shoot at you with guns that weren't spitting out regular bullets.

You look to your side and see your best friend (he doesn't think so but that's what you tell everyone so deal with it sucker). Speedy, Green Arrow's sidekick, Roy Harper under the mask, and Pain in the Ass (a nickname you'd affectionately given him) to you.

You were in a compromising position, one that you could easily get yourself out of. But now you've spotted an unoccupied Roy and you wanted to have a little fun admist the chaos.

"Hey pain in my ass! A little help here!" The men were now taking shots with their fists, all failing to land their hits of course. And your best friend had completely ignored you.

"Hellooooo you know I'm talking to you!"

"I told you I wouldn't answer when you called me that. And I thought I made myself very clear." Definitely referring to the embarrassing way he took you down in front of the team after harassing him all week with the nickname a month ago.

"Well you answered right now soo...."

An arrow suddenly flew right past you, nearly grazing your cheek. A couple more followed.

"Um hello?! You nearly took me out!"

"That's my way of saying cut it out while saving your ass. And don't your spidey senses detect that kind of stuff? Danger and threats? You should've seen them coming."

"Huh. Guess you aren't as threatening as you think you are. At least not with that silly little hat on."

He simply glared at you. He was definitely going to kick your ass later. (Again).

With your guys dealt with, you turned to watch as Flash and Kid Flash emptied out a school bus on the road. Well, watched was a strong word. The job was done before you could fully process what was happening.

And suddenly that same school bus was being throw your way by the Rhino-man. Directly above your head actually.

Uh oh.

CRASH!

This was the third time that's happened to you this week!

He had good aim, you'll admit. It landed on you perfectly, but thanks to your incredible strength he seemingly didn't know about (how could he not? You're literally the Spider-Person from tv! Spider-Person...pfft what a stupid name. No one seemed to come up with something better), the biggest indicator to this being his shocked face. Oh how you loved that look. You threw it right back at him. Jokes on Rhino-man, you also had incredible aim.

"It's gonna take a lot more than a school bus to take me out!" Although you could feel the nearly broken rib and bruises you'd need to get checked out before you went home today.

You sighed happily, dusting your hands, "light work to me. Maybe try one of those city buses next time? Might be heavier and more effective-"

The words barely left your mouth before a city bus was being throw at you, "Wait I didn't actually mean it!" You caught the bus this time. And although your senses knew the danger was coming, it was still a bus that caught you off guard with its weight. Your legs and arms quivered at the force of having to hold it up, you could feel every bruise spotted on your body with the strain and it was not fun. While your body healed faster than the average human, it definitely wasn't fast enough to recover from the previous hit.

The back of the bus was fully tipped to the sky. You prayed there was no one in this thing. And sure you were strong, but there was no way you could tip it back on its wheels without potentially hurting someone.

Luckily Superman helped you with that, seeing you struggle. He easily took it off your hands (show off) and maneuvered it so it was placed safely back on the road.

"Thanks Supes!" He gave a nod and his famous smile.

It was only a couple more minutes of fighting and cars being thrown around before the whole thing was wrapped up. The adults would give their words to the police and news reporters, blah blah blah...

While they did that, you and your best friends, the teens (the cooler ones) got together like you always did after a mission.

Superman is being interviewed by the infamous Lois Lane (the talk of the teen team, there was definitely tension there).

All while Wally stands a little behind them making faces and ridiculous poses for the camera. The rest of you stood out of shot either cackling or rolling your eyes.

Wally steps back, clearly offended. "What? All he's doing is flirting with her in front of a live audience. Remember what they said last time? No one's gonna be paying attention to me."

Robin snickers, "What? The whole 'no one can take Superman' 'but you sure can'?" He repeats their words in poorly done impressions.

"That was totally an innuendo!"

"Very mature KF."

"Hey! Robin and Spider laughed with me. And I saw Speedy’s smirk, he sat there trying to pretend he didn't find it funny. Maybe you should get that stick out of your ass, Aqualad?"

Roy, completely serious, replies, "Now that's no way to talk to the adults' favorite."

You perk up, "oh, me?"

Your friends immediately explode into disagreement, apparently in disbelief you'd think such a thing.

It was a simple story, how it all came to be. You got bit by a spider (totally cool about it).

Totally didn't scream your ass off because of it and stay paranoid the rest of the day, constantly thinking there was a creepy crawler on you...no. You found out the next day that you weren't actually paranoid—if you were in the first place, which you were not! Because apparently the spider had camped out in your clothes all day and night...

You totally didn't scream your ass off again that morning at the revelation.

You did scream at the sight of abs on your body that same morning though. And that's the only reason you'll ever thank the spider, forget the cool powers.

After that you thought it would be cool to use your powers for good, inspired by your uncle. You decided to have your own cool hero costume, symbol, and name (which you still haven't gotten. You originally thought of the Human Spider. People on the streets called it dumb, claiming they would not be calling you that). You had (unfortunately) been (TEMPORARILY!) named the Spider-Person. Which was insanely stupid and you needed to come up with something quick before it stuck completely. Maybe the Human Spider wasn't so good but it wasn't as bad as your unofficial name now!

Anyways, as for the cool hero costume. You had to use what you had at the time, which was...your normal clothes. Getting a costume online seemed cheap, and dressing up as an existing character in the media and saving people seemed wrong. It would only deny your identity as a hero. So you put on whatever clothes (mostly colorful pajamas) that you had, covered the bottom half of your face with a bandanna, and called it a night. And boy did that get you a lot of ridicule, but you got the job done, right? The only thing it didn't do was protect your body from scrapes and...stab wounds. You hated little knives.

You're not the smartest in the world and it's not like you had the money someone like Bruce Wayne could pull out of their ass and make cool superhero wear.

Once you were recruited by Batman, he gave you your own hero costume—no, suit. Every suggestion you made was followed. It was perfect. The mask had to be your favorite part though. Something you didn't suggest was the some type of magic on it, something called hammerspace. Basically you could have any type of hair, or ears...probably even a pair of headphones on your head and it won't show through. It'll seemingly disappear to this hammerspace (you weren't sure how it worked exactly, but it works nonetheless so you won't question it). The magic was done by a team member who was needed very rarely named Zatara. Another man with a silly hat on his head.

You attempted to try it with Batman to see if his bat ears would disappear (which was completely encouraged by Robin by the way. No- completely his idea!) He was not happy. (You got benched for a month...no patrols, no missions...and Robin got off scott-free! How was that fair?!)

Wally starts to bring up your part of the fight, specifically the bus incident.

"Hey isn't that the third time that's happened to you this week?"

You sigh, exasperated and playing it up, "yes."

Robin butts in before you could say anything more, "Couldn't you have caught them? Y'know with your spidey senses and incredible strength?" He has the nastiest smirk on his face. His smartass totally figured you out.

"Well yeah, duh. But it's fun seeing the looks on the bad guys' faces when they realize I'm not dead and I can carry a however many pound bus! Is that so bad?"

"No but it's embarrassing for us."

"What? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Yeah, our best friend who's powers include crazy senses that gives them insane reflexes? That best friend can't catch a big, yellow bus being thrown at them? Embarrassing." The one time Roy will take the claim as your best friend is when he's insulting you? Unsurprising.

Kaldur cut in, sensing your defense a mile away, "It is pretty shameful of you."

Your jaw dropped, even Kaldur of all of people was agreeing? Oh this is insane!

You point a figure at your friends, trying to get your threat across, "Well I find that incredibly offensive and you should all take that back before I-"

"Isn't the point of your powers to detect danger before it comes? How come that's the third time this week you've been hit by a school bus? It's embarrassing, Spider." Batman's monotone voice made his words all the more insulting. Your frown deepened.

You sigh, "Yup. Real embarrassing for me. I got that."

"No, embarrassing for me. I've got a reputation to keep up."

He walks away without another word.

"I can't tell if he was trying to joke around like you guys were, but I'm still offended."

"He was being dead serious. And for the record, so were we."

I wrote this before I wrote my Conner fic. I just realized I made Batman tease reader at the end of both fics…??

[cherubunie]

Heyy Heard you got writers block can you do all the jjk men (toji especially cuz my man my man my mann) where the reader and them just got into an argument and says goodnight to each other I know this sounds weird but at the end of the day they still love each other lol if u already did this sorrrry!

hi love bug ! i’m sorry this took so long to answer 😭 college is NAWT fun. I did my best i hope that’s okay! 🤍 I did add a little twist into your request I hope that's alright!

broken then fixed ~ husband toji x reader

Toji Fushiguro and you have been married for a few years now, so you know what his job as an assassin is like. You're used to him coming home at odd hours in the morning, if he ever came home at all. He's usually out for weeks, and oftentimes months on a job. Despite his schedule, you agreed to marry him out of pure love the both of you shared. One tough night after coming home from a job that took him a couple months to complete, he seems to be in the worst mood you've seen him in, in a very, very long time. Due to this, you, and more so he, exchange some words that left open wounds on each other's hearts. Will you both be willing to patch up those wounds together, or will you have to do it alone?

word count: 3600 Toji Fushiguro x reader. Angst, yelling, crying, words of hatred, mentions of breaking up, mentions of death, toji very shortly thinks of having sex with you. Fluff. Toji is a bit sweeter than normal bc i love sweet men.

Toji and you have been married for the last five years. Your shared love is indescribably perfect despite his tough work schedule as an assassin. Despite this, your love continues to grow for each other every passing second. Some nights do get tough when you're away from your lover. Crying, glass after glass of wine, hugging his pillow and sleeping on his side of the bed. Other nights, you're just happy you have someone to protect, love, and cherish you the way Toji does. You admire everything about your husband, and the feeling is mutual, he loves you the exact way. 

When he's having a tough day on the job, all he does in order to pick himself back up is imagining the way your face lights up when he comes home. How you will more than likely have a home cooked meal all ready for him on the stove if you know the exact date he finds his way back to you. How your pussy makes him feel when he's inside you. When you're moaning his name as your fingers dig red, bloody trails down his toned back as he stuffs you full, taking his cock so well he could breed you for hours- but that's a different story. 

Although, tonight is different for him. He killed someone he wasn't supposed to kill today, a child. Four, maybe five years old. She was caught up in the midst of a brutal fight between him and his target, causing destruction all around him. And to make a long story short, he did end up killing who he was supposed to, but only to kill a little girl on the way to his goal. Toji seems like the type to not give a shit about something so small, but behind closed doors, he would never kill a child unless it absolutely had to be done. 

He puts up his walls when things like this happen, only for them to be torn down the moment his eyes find yours. That's what he loves most about you- how well you understand him and how forgiving you are. You make him feel safe, valid. He feels as though he can tell you anything, break down any wall, and all you do is listen and hold him as he finally lets down the mask. 

The guilt felt as if he was swallowing handfuls of glass. Sharp and painful as he opens the door to your shared house. The smell of something delicious hits him and it makes his stomach churn. 

He doesn't deserve you. He doesn't deserve to come home to the most perfect, beautiful woman on earth who treats him as if he is the most treasured person on the planet. He's angry with himself, and even though he sees you rounding the corner of the kitchen, his mask stays up and his head hangs low as he takes off his coat and hangs it on the hooks in the doorway. 

Your "welcome home my love" is early audible as the little girl's screams echo through his skull, consuming every part of his being. As Toji walks past you and into the living room, completely disregarding your existence. You can now tell that something has undeniably upset him. You don't take his actions to heart, your smile never falters as you turn your body to face him while your eyes follow his moving figure. He brings his hands up to his head as he stressfully runs his fingers through his black hair. 

You take a step towards him and your voice seems to be laced with sweetness as you speak to him.

"Honey, are you okay?" you ask him in the most sweetly filled concern he's ever heard, which breaks his heart even more. His teeth clench as his anger rises. 

Why do you have to be so sweet to me? Im a murderer for fuck sake. His thoughts eat away at him and he knows that if he looks at you, his walls will crack. 

"I can't." Is all he says, not turning around to look at you. Your face contorts to one of confusion at his words, not quite understanding the meaning of his short sentence. 

"Can't what, love?" The pet name you call him makes him want to break everything in the house. 

Make this short, Fushiguro.

"I can't keep this up anymore, y/n." His voice lacks emotion as he refuses to face you. Your heart clenches in your ribcage and suddenly your focus is undivided as your attention circulates onto Toji and Toji alone. 

You understand what he means, because he's talked about it before. Especially when he comes home from a tough job. You've always been able to reassure him, but this time feels different. Even though you understand completely, you still refuse to acknowledge it and play dumb. 

"I don't understand what you mean." You say, your voice never faltering from the sweet tone you speak. A low, gruntful huff escapes his throat as his frustration bubbles up. 

"We can't keep doing this, y/n." You feel as though the room is shrinking in on the both of you. It's suddenly stuffier as your chest begins to get heavier. You don't say anything, and that pisses him off. 

"I put you in danger, I put everyone in danger just by existing. I'm an assassin with an active target on my back." He takes a breath and in one swift motion, his hands fall to his sides, balling his hands into fists. 

"Please don't." your words are just below a whisper, but Toji can hear them. 

Believe me, baby. I don't want to. 

"I can't keep putting you in danger, it's selfish. We need to leave things here and never come back." His words are harsh as they leave his mouth, piercing straight into your heart. 

"Toji please. I don't want that." You speak, his ears ringing with your soft voice and the screams. 

"I do." Short and to the point. You aren't understanding now. He doesn't want you anymore? He doesn't love you? He doesn't care about you? So many things cloud your overthinking mind and everything is going a mile a minute. 

"Please don't. I don't care that you're an assassin, I don't care about your job. I don't care that you think I'm in danger! I know what you're capable of and I know that you protect me. I feel safe with you. Toji please don't, I'm begging you." You're frantic now. You haven't thought about your life without him, all you know is that you love him for who he truly is, and how safe you feel whenever you're in his presence. 

"That's the goddamn problem y/n. You're so blind sighted by how I present myself with you that you don't see the dangers of being with me. You're so caught up in what a happy, square marriage could be that you've gaslighted yourself into believing that you have one. I don't want this anymore, and I don't want you. I don't want what you think we have. I've had enough, y/n." His words send a punch to your gut and a thick crack to your heart, and suddenly it's too hard to breathe as your chest heaves. 

"You think it's easy being away from my own husband for so long? All the nights I've laid awake crying, scared that something will happen to you? How alone I feel for weeks on end?" You pause, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't. 

"You wanna know how I get myself through those nights- weeks? It's the thought of you coming home to me. Feeling whole again whenever you're here. The house no longer feeling so big and empty. If we can get through those agonizing times of being apart, I know I can get through anything. All those arguments we've had just like this, we get through because I know I trust you, and I know damn well you feel the exact same." You take a breath before speaking again. 

"I trust you enough to be with you, because I know how dangerous your job is, and I know the sacrifices I have to make in order to be with you, that is why I agreed to marry you. That and the fact that I love you with all I am, Toji." He's silent, and this scares you. Every time an argument like this has happened, the both of you are fighting for each other, but this time is different. He's not fighting, you are. Alone. 

"Are you fucking stupid? How do I have to say it in order to make you understand? I don't care about our marriage, and I don't care about your love or trust. I don't want this. I don't want you. I'm tired of having these pointless conversations because with you, they never end. It's painful, really." Now it's your turn to be silent. A look of pain and regret clouds Toji's face as the words leave his mouth, but he has to land the finishing blow. 

"I don't love you, anymore y/n." 

Your emotions are all over the place. Anger, sadness, confusion. But you can't let him go, not yet. 

"Turn around and say it to my face." Your words are solid and demanding, and it honestly gives Toji chills. 

"I said, turn around and say it to my face, Toji." Your demand is clearer and more intimidating. 

I can't do it. 

He pauses for a minute, gathering himself and adjusting his mask before he turns around to look at you. His face is emotionless and solid. He looks you right in the eyes, his heart shattering in his chest at the sight of warm tears streaming down your perfect face, ruining your pretty mascara and light concealer. 

"I don't love you."

Your arms find their way to cross each other over your stomach, right below your breasts. almost as if you're trying to stop yourself from vomiting at his words. you're silent as he walks to the front door, your eyes staring off into space. He grabs his coat and walks out of the front door, slamming it shut behind him and as soon as he's out of the house, a loud sob erupts from the back of your throat and your breathing picks up the pace. You continue to sob as you walk into the kitchen, turning the stove off in a rushed manner. You pace around the kitchen, whines and cries leave your throat as you attempt to gather any rational thoughts. 

I'm not safe anymore. I won't see him again. Fuck you. Please don't leave me. 

They circulate around your brain and nothing else can calm you down. Your feet stop in their tracks as you see a picture frame on the table. 

Your wedding picture. Toji is holding you in his arms, and you're looking at the camera with the biggest, most genuine smile on your face. But what catches your eye is the look on his face, his eyes holding so much love as he looks directly at you in the picture. Your head starts hurting as your cries are filled with anger and betrayal. You storm over to the picture, pick it up and without even looking at it, you let out a loud grunt as you throw it at the front door. 

"Fuck you" you say to the shattered glass that now litters the floor. You rub your palms down your face and up through your hair, gripping hard as you tug on it. 

"Please don't leave me" you say to yourself and sink down onto the living room floor, your back against the soft couch the two of you picked out while you were furniture shopping before you moved into the place. 

You bring your knees to your chest and cry into your arms. Loudly. 

Words of "please don't leave me alone" and "I don't want you to go" echo off the walls of the house. You cry and cry for hours, begging to the empty house, your headache getting worse and before you know it, you're fast asleep on the floor in front of the couch. 

Little to your knowledge, Toji heard all of your cries and pleas. The longer it continued, the more he started to regret his decision. He wished there was an easier way to protect you, but alas, here you guys were. It was around 4 in the morning and he's still sitting with his back against the front door, trying to get himself to leave. but he just couldn't get himself to leave the woman he's in love with. 

All of the words he spoke were lies. Lies that will haunt him for the rest of his life. You were silent now, hinting to him that you had finally fallen asleep. He sat outside, staring out into the street. 

His thoughts overwhelming. 

He remembered how well he kept your marriage under wraps so that no harm would come your way, and none did. Nothing had ever happened to you in the five years of you guys being married. Nothing had ever happened to you in the 9 years of you being together in general. He was very good at making sure you were safe, but he didn't care. He would rather burn the world to the ground than have anything happen to you.

He remembered a conversation he had with an old friend of his before he had proposed to you, and it made him want to erase the last 6 hours of his life and start over. 

"Do you really think it's a good idea to marry her?" He asks. 

"yes I do." 

"I just don't want anything to happen to her, you know?" Toji says with a huff. 

"I understand, yes. But you need to understand that life has an unavoidable expiration date. you never know when you, or someone else is going to die. You have to live to your fullest extent with no regrets. Are you going to regret marrying her, or regret letting her go and risk her being happy with someone else. Would you rather her die with someone else, or with you." He says, making Toji drown with thought.

"What if she dies because of me?" Toji speaks in hushed tones. 

"You know you can't protect everybody, but you're Toji, come on. You don't protect anyone but yourself. Actually, you do the opposite, you kill people, people who need killing that is. You've already decided to keep your marriage hidden, and you chose the best way to do that. You do whatever you think is best, but if I were you, I would marry the one person who truly understands and accepts you for who you are, because you never know when that expiration date will come. Living with the happiness in your life, because you truly can't gain it if you're observing it from afar." 

The thought of a life without you in it makes him not want a life at all. You drive him crazy. Absolutely batshit crazy and he loves it. 

He married you for a reason, your souls are tied, there is no reason to cut that string bounding you two together. 

Toji thinks for a moment, an idea popping into his head as he stands up, brushing his pants off in the process. It's a crazy idea, but he's gonna give it up anyways. 

If he had to choose between the love of his life and continuing his line of work, he would choose you in a heartbeat.

So that's exactly what he does. 

He turns around and opens the front door, immediately finding your passed out figure on the living room carpet. His heart pangs at the thought of you sleeping on the uncomfortable floor. 

He closes the door behind him and locks it. Walking over the broken glass and picture frame, he carefully picks up the photo of the two of you on your wedding day and his eyes start to sting. He gently walks around the broken glass and into the kitchen, propping the picture in the exact same spot, only this time he leans it up against the wall so it's up right. He makes a mental note to go and buy a new picture frame tomorrow and begins to dim the kitchen and living room lights before heading over to your sleeping body. 

He bends down and looks at you. Your face is so calm, he can't believe those loud and broken sobs came from your delicate lips and soft throat. He brushes a strand of hair off your tear stained cheeks and caresses your sweet face with the pad of his thumb, rubbing it over the tear marks streaming down your puffy cheeks. 

He carefully wraps one arm under your back, the other under your knees, picking you up bridal style. He stands up and starts heading into your shared room, kicking the door open gently. 

The sudden change of position stirs you awake, and the first thing you see is Tojis face. Your eyes instantly widen and you are almost convinced you're dreaming, you go to say something but his deep voice vibrates through your body, interrupting you.

"don't say anything baby, let me explain." You close your mouth as he sets you on the perfectly made bed the two of you share. He sits down in front of you and places his hand on your knee, looking directly at you. 

"I'm sorry, y/n. I really didn't mean anything I said. I shouldn't have said any of it actually." you stare at the man before you, not saying anything- you don't know what to say really, so you let him continue. 

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you. what I said was completely false and I want to ask you for forgiveness. I don't regret this relationship, and I don't regret ever meeting you." He pauses, looking down at his hands. You feel a familiar sting in the back of your eyes. 

"I want you. I want all of you. Every single aspect of your being is everything I will ever need in this lifetime. I always thought that I would rather die than to let anything hurt you, but it was nobody other than me who did exactly that, and I will spend every second of this life time and the ones after making up for it." Fresh tears run down your cheeks, but your expression is blank. Toji leans closer, moving his hand from your knee, onto the plush of your cheek, wiping away your tears with his thumb and you don't even think of rejecting his touch. 

"You aren't stupid, nothing you do is anything remotely stupid. You're perfect. Everything you do is perfect. Your trust, your love, hell even the way you walk. You drive me absolutely crazy, y/n. I just-" he pauses, trying to say the right words.

"I thought that leaving would- I thought that leaving was the best available option I had in order to keep you safe, because I really do believe that everywhere I go, there is danger and destruction, and I don't want that to have any sort of effect on you" he takes a breath

"I don't want to imagine a life without you y/n because- because without you, I don't want one" you've never seen him stutter the way he's doing now, and you've never heard his voice break as much, and you can tell he's being serious. 

"Tell me what happened" you blurt out before he can say anything else. Toji stares at you, his jaw clenching and then unclenching. his eyes tore away from yours before he speaks.

"There was a little girl, she had pretty big brown eyes and golden hair. four, maybe five years old. She got in the middle of a fight on accident and before I could stop, I ended up killing her. I can't get her screams of pain out of my head before she dies. I kept imagining that little girl as you. Like if I didn't leave, you would end up the same way she did. or instead of you,,, she was- she was our daughter.." his voice trailed off and your expression softens. the two of you have never spoken of having children, but you've thought about it multiple times before and you never once disregarded the possibility. even thinking about it happening in the future makes you happy. 

"you wanna know how I know that would never happen?" He looks up at you, a single tear littering his cheek. 

"because I know the extent you're willing to go in order to protect me." you lean forward into his warm chest, gripping his shirt so tightly that if your grip were to falter, he would slip through your fingers. you cry into his chest and he strokes your head, pulling you into his lap. 

"shh baby, it's okay" he coos as you cry into him.

"I thought you were actually leaving" you sigh, the tense atmosphere melting away as the feeling of being complete in his arms begins to overflow

"I'm not baby, I'm here to stay. I'm so sorry, never again, I promise you."

You pull away from him and look down at the pair of wedding rings that shine on your fingers. 

"I love you, y/n, and this is where i'm going to stay, right here with you."