#who i have to imagine is new and was apologetic but i can only be so forgiving two one hour calls and one you should have called those

[not-neverland06]

the newlyweds

Pairing ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Logan Howlett x fem!reader (Flux)

a/n: I wrote this at 3 AM and I'm also pretty sure I'm sick, so bare with me. Based on this: ask

You know Logan can't stand you, but it doesn't stop the way you feel about him. Your mind recognizes the hate in his eyes whenever you're in the same room, but your heart can't. Finally, you come to terms with the truth: it's never gonna happen. However, your newfound resolve is flipped on its head when you're forced to go undercover with him as newlyweds. Your new wedding ring is a noose and you don't know how you'll survive it or him.

You stumble forward as someone knocks into you from behind. Their shoulder jams painfully into your ribcage and you trip into the wall in front of you. “Shit,” you hiss, rubbing your back and turning around to glare at whoever it was. You figure it's a kid skipping class, imagine your surprise when it’s a fully grown man practically growling at you. 

“Where the hell am I?” He darts forward, grabbing you by the arms and jerking you towards him. “Who are you people?” You’re stunned into silence, eyes wide with shock as he pushes your spine into the wall behind you. 

You recognize him now. This is the man who was with Rogue in the truck you, Ororo, and Summers rescued. The only reason you don’t toss him across the room and rip his spine out through his throat is because you know how disoriented he is. Though, with the way his claws threaten to pierce your skin, you are tempted to. 

“Ah,” a familiar and welcomed voice sounds out from beside you both. “I see you’ve met Flux.” Charles rarely ever uses your actual name, mainly introducing you through your X-Men persona. It’s a preference of yours. 

The man’s eyes dart between you and Charles, and your own turn into slits the longer he keeps his tight grip on you. “Wanna let me go now?” You demand voice practically a growl. Your patience has never been wonderful, but he’s really working on your last nerve. 

He blinks, seemingly coming back to himself. With an almost regretful look, he lets you go. You sigh in irritation, straightening your shirt out and shoving past the corner he’s pushed you into. “Who the hell is this?” You snap, moving to stand behind Charles. 

He gives you an apologetic look, “I’m not sure. He hasn’t introduced himself yet.” He gives the man an expectant look. Instead of answering he glances around, and scoffs. 

“What is this, summer camp? You people don’t need to know me, I don’t need to know you. Just show me how to get the fuck out, alright?” Finding Charles’ school had been heaven on earth. He’d provided you with a home and a haven you never thought you would have the privilege of. You’d never shown anger in the face of his guidance or generosity. But many have. 

You can tell, as much as the man in front of you might believe otherwise, he’s going to be enjoying the comfort of Charles’ protection soon. You move to the side, leaving them to their conversation. Instead, you focus on keeping the kids away from the newest form of entertainment. You usher them towards their classes, despite their reluctance. 

The other members of the team soon join you all, introducing themselves. “Storm, Cyclops,” he scoffs a little at Scott’s name and you feel a reluctant smile tugging at your lips. He turns towards you, brows furrowed inquisitively, “Flux?”

“Matter manipulation,” you explain bluntly. He shrugs his shoulders giving you a blank look. Sighing you hold out your hand and gesture to Charles’ desk. With a flick of your wrist, it melts into an unnatural form of liquid wood. Logan’s eyes widen and you can’t help but finally let the full smile form on your lips. “Flux was just what fourteen-year-old me thought fit best.”

He nods, turning back towards Charles with a smarmy grin. “And what do they call you, wheels?” Your eyes widen with shock and an unbidden laugh surges forth. Charles sends you a playful glare and you have to turn around to keep from laughing more. 

You’d thought you wouldn’t like this one. It’s always bad when there’s a member on the team you don’t get along with. It’s not common, but it has happened. They simply keep you separated if they can. The school is wonderful, but it’s not perfect. Not everyone will like each other. You think you and Logan will get along just fine, though.

It started slow, barely noticeable at first. You didn’t know him well enough to understand that the way he treats you is completely different from how he treats everyone else. Where your greetings are brushed off with cold shoulders or the occasional glare, others at the very least get a brief mumble of hello. When you speak, you can practically feel the irritation wafting off of him in waves. You taste his hatred in every interaction. 

There’s no exact moment you can pinpoint where you went wrong. Sure, your introduction to one another was rocky at best. But he’d nearly thrown Jean across the room when they first met and they got along just fine. 

You’ve thought about it, for far too long, about what makes you different than the others. Is it your smile? The pitch of your voice? Of course, you understand that sometimes there are just people that you meet and something inside you hates them. There’s never a true explanation behind the feeling, just instinct. 

But you can’t place what about you would make someone so guarded, so mean. It feels like such a childish word, like too simple of a way to explain Logan. The very least you know about him is that he can never be summed up with the word simple. There are secrets buried deep within him, some he knows, others he doesn’t. You can’t just slap a label on him and walk away. 

More often than not, though, you feel like you’re talking to one of your childhood bullies and not a team member. Because, despite your own feelings towards him, at the end of the day you are team members. There’s no getting around it. From that connection comes, what should be, a base level of respect. 

You’re both in charge of protecting one another and looking out for each other on the field. That means when you put on the suit, you’re putting aside petty grievances. But he seems incapable of that as well. 

You’ve spent mornings practicing your greetings, trying to tone down your cheeriness or inflect your voice with a more welcoming timbre. You’ve changed how you dress, how you do your hair, even your makeup. And at the end of it all, you still got the same miserable look and distinct feeling of worthlessness. All of the change has been temporary, you are a creature of habit. Inevitably, you slide back into the same habits and styles that make you, you. 

You feel stupid, trying to change yourself to better fit someone else's tastes. Especially when it’s someone who so clearly despises you. It’s not how you carry yourself, how you look, it’s the mere fact you exist that bothers him. At least, that’s the conclusion you’ve come to in all your months of experimenting. 

It truly shouldn’t bother you so much. There’s always going to be people who don’t like you. There’s nothing you can do about it. And you’ve never had that desire to change other's opinions on you. But something about Logan has dug its claws under your skin and has refused to let go. You can’t get him out of your head, even when you feel like you hate him, he’s all you think about. You’ve considered asking Jean to use her abilities to somehow dig him out of your brain and keep him out. But you don’t think that would work either. 

You step into the kitchen and nearly freeze in the doorway. Logan sits at the island, back to you as he reads the newspaper. You find yourself lightening your steps, quieting your breath. You make yourself as inconspicuous and convenient as possible. Every time you catch yourself doing something like this, you hate yourself just a little bit more. 

You shouldn’t have to alter parts of yourself to better fit someone else’s needs. You slip along the tiles, your socked feet slamming into the corner of the counter as you pass it. “Shit!” You shout, doubling over as you clutch your throbbing toes. 

So much for being inconspicuous. 

Logan’s head shoots up in shock as he glares over his paper at you. You let out a strained whimper, reluctantly releasing your foot and hobbling towards the coffee pot. You’ve taken more bullets than you count, and somehow that still hurt worse. 

You can’t just ignore him, you feel his stare burning into your back, and it feels too dickish-too much like him, to not say anything. “Morning,” you mutter over your shoulder, barely looking at him. You pour your coffee, trying to ignore how daunting the silence seems. You might as well be alone in the room for all the attention he’ll grant you. 

You feel like a beggar, on hands and knees just for a simple hello. Ever since his first night here, he’s been so aloof with you. It’s only devolved since then. You sigh, slamming the mug onto the counter. Something in you has snapped this morning and it’s not just the bones in your foot. You’re sick of this. 

You shouldn’t have to walk on eggshells around him. He’s not a toddler, he doesn’t deserve to be coddled and catered to. He’s a grown man, an X-Men for fuck’s sake. What he needs, is to learn a little emotional regulation. 

You turn, mouth open and sucking in a deep breath as you prepare your speech. The island is empty as you face it, his stool in the same place it had been while he was on it. The paper lies abandoned, even his nearly full mug is still on the granite. 

You scoff, snapping your jaw shut and rolling your eyes. “Jesus,” you mutter to yourself. Wonderful, even the same room is too much for him now. Something bitter has been forming in your mind. A rage building from weeks of unprompted cruel behavior. 

Yet, somehow, the thing that pushes you over the edge from interest to resentment is the fact that he didn’t say good morning back. 

You teach history at the school, but the majority of your role at the mansion is to train children with powers similar to yours. You’ve never met a mutant who had such a broad scope with their abilities as you do. Some can turn water to ice, control the blood running through someone’s veins, or make the air around them a solid block. But you’ve yet to meet one who manipulates anything with matter the way you do. 

Still, for training, you deal with the unreliable, untameable, and generally more dangerous abilities. And sometimes for training, you work with other teachers and let your kids practice on each other. It’s a rotating schedule, and unfortunately, the week you’ve decided you hate him, you’re partnered with Logan for training. 

You’ve got the entirety of Charles’ backyard, which is essentially the size of a football field. It’s a lot of room for accidents and accidental misfires. You stand in front of the pond, admittedly a risky choice with these kids, and direct them all to their partners. 

“Remember, the goal of this isn’t to maim each other,” you give a particularly pointed glare towards Billy. He’s caused a lot of problems lately with his fires. “It’s just to learn how to wield your abilities to your advantage, to protect yourself and your team.”

You look to Logan, seeing if he wants to add anything or contribute to the class in some way. He just keeps his arms crossed, glowering at all the children like he’s imagining skewering them on his claws. Rolling your eyes, you turn back to the kids. “Let's start with the hand-to-hand maneuvers we went over yesterday before we practice with our abilities.”

“Why don’t you show us?” Your head whips towards Billy and you can’t help the sneer on your lips. He’s sat on the ground, legs crossed leisurely over each other. He doesn’t have a care in the world as he taunts you. 

“What?” You grit out, glaring at him.

“Show us what a balanced fight should look like between mutants. You and Logan,” he nods to the aforementioned man. Logan just quirks a brow, glancing at you before turning back to Billy. 

“I don’t think-”

“Fine.” You gape at Logan as he tugs his jacket off. He shrugs as he looks at you, moving towards the middle of the field. Of course, he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to try and pummel you. You’re sure that he’s just been waiting for an excuse to fight you. 

“If that’s what you want,” you mutter bitterly. You pull off your sweatshirt and start walking towards him. 

“Your cuffs,” Billy calls out from behind you. The other students all watch the interaction with rapt attention. They’re practically salivating at the chance to see you two fight each other. Meanwhile, Billy just seems like he wants to see someone bleed. 

The metal cuffs around your wrists are the only thing that stops you from leveling the entire school. Your abilities are so tightly entwined with your emotions that one unlucky bout of anger can lead you to vaporizing everyone around you. They dull your abilities just enough to still be useful but not deadly. You haven’t taken them off in years. And perhaps it’s wrong to lean so heavily on them for protection, but you have. That’s your cross to bear. You don’t even want to picture what will happen if you open that dam. 

“What?” Billy shrugs, sending you a sharp smirk. “How are we supposed to trust you, if you can’t even use your own damn abilities?” He snorts and narrows his eyes at you, “How the hell did you even become an X-Men, Flux?” His name rolls off your tongue with a sharpened venom. 

He oozes hatred and a burning resentment that catches you off guard. It’s too much to process the insults he’s hurling at you and the sudden one-eighty in his personality. You don’t even hear Logan coming until his fist is wrapped in Billy’s collar and he’s yanking him off his feet. 

He dangles him, just a couple of inches, off the ground, teeth practically bared at the kid. “Wanna keep talking, mouth?” 

“Log-” You’re cut off as a fireball shoots out of Billy’s palm and explodes against Logan’s gut. You gasp, throwing up a wall in front of the other kids so it can’t hurt them. “All right,” you call out sternly. “Everyone inside,” you demand, pointing the other kids back towards the manor. 

You linger with Logan, who still has Billy dangling from his fist, only he looks even more pissed off now. Anyone else, and they’d be dust at Billy’s feet. But Logan isn’t anyone else and the only collateral seems to be his shirt. 

Not that you mind the view. 

Billy hasn’t been here long enough to know what Logan’s abilities are, though. You don’t think he actually knew he could heal. The thought alone is worrying enough that you don’t force Logan to let him go. “We need to get him to Charles,” when Logan doesn’t move you put more force behind your voice, “now.”

Logan lets out a low huff before placing Billy back on his own two feet. He doesn’t let him go far, though, keeping his hand around the back of his neck and dragging him forward. You follow behind them, making sure he doesn’t rip him to pieces before Charles can speak with him. 

You sit outside Charles’ office, fingers tapping restlessly against your thigh as you stare at the mahogany walls in front of you. The red velvet of the seat is too soft and you find yourself slipping to the edge every few seconds. It’s too soft, too luxurious, your back aches the longer you wait. 

Charles had instructed both you and Logan to wait for him to finish up with Billy. It’s been nearly an hour, though, and you’re growing restless. You can tell Logan feels the same way. He’s pacing the hall like a caged lion about to rip the arm off its keeper. 

“How are you?” You blurt out, desperate for something to fill the silence. He stops abruptly, whipping around to face you. You flinch back slightly at the intense glare he’s sporting. “Your stomach, I mean,” you gesture towards the scorch marks on his shirt, the soot on his abs. 

It’s been a practice in self-control to not just be staring at his wonderfully sculpted muscles flexing this whole time. You’re pleasantly surprised with how well you’ve been doing so far. Though, now with him facing you, you’re finding it incredibly hard to meet his eye. He’s such an imposing figure, especially when he’s standing over you like this. 

“Fine,” he barks out, turning back around and effectively ending the conversation. Your eyes narrow and you scoff, god, why do you try?

The door swings open and you expect Billy to come running out crying with his tail tucked between his legs. Instead, you hear the familiar whirl of Charles wheels as he rolls into the hall. He faces you and Logan, a strained smile on his face. 

“Where’s Billy?” You slowly get to your feet, peering into his office. Your confusion only grows when you find it empty. 

“He’s away from the other children for now. He’ll need private lessons before we allow him near them again. And if that doesn’t work, we have no choice but to expel him.” You can tell it hurts Charles to say that. 

He does genuinely want the best for these kids. He wants mutants to have a home, a place where they can be themselves without fear of retaliation. Sometimes, though, it doesn’t work out. There’s nothing wrong with that, you all try your best to help the kids. But some of them have been so twisted by the world around them that there’s no undoing the damage. When they pose a risk the way Billy does, the other kids come first. 

Logan scoffs with distaste, stalking closer to Charles. “He tried to kill me, fucking tried to get Flux to take her cuffs off.” He gestures towards you, for once, though, you don’t feel like you’re being attacked. Even he can understand the dangers of that demand is idiotic. It’s clear Billy only wanted to watch everyone around him get hurt, he didn’t care about the consequences. 

Charles holds up a pacifying hand, nodding his head and dismissing Logan’s concerns. “I’m quite aware of what happened, Logan. But Billy is my responsibility and he’s not the reason I needed to talk to you both.”

He rolls back into his office, expecting you both to follow him. You fall in line behind him, taking a seat at his desk. Logan takes another minute to join you both, a reluctant scowl on his face as he sits beside you. Charles waves his hand, the door closing and providing you all with a little bit more privacy. 

He reaches into a drawer on his desk, pulling out a thin manilla folder. He pushes it towards both you and Logan. You share a confused look with Logan before flipping the file open. There are a few pictures of a stereotypical suburban neighborhood. Bright green laws, uniform driveways, each house looks the same as the last. 

There are a few more pictures, all of them taken from an awkward distance that makes it hard to determine what you’re looking at. You pass the pictures to Logan and shake your head at Charles. “I don’t understand, what is all this?”

“Your next mission,” he informs you both with a strained smile. 

Logan’s head shoots up, eyes narrowing in on Charles. “Excuse me?” He demands, his voice a growl more than anything. 

“There have been some disturbing rumors about this neighborhood. Mentions of a possible mutant trafficking ring being conducted behind closed doors. Normally, I would dismiss such claims. Oftentimes these are just ways to bait and snatch mutants. However, my own attempts at telepathic investigation have been thwarted. Even with Cerebro, I can’t seem to breach the neighborhood.”

“Something’s blocking you?” You ask, snatching the pictures back from Logan to get a better look. He tosses the folder back on the desk, muttering something you can’t hear. 

“Or someone. I’m worried there might be some truth to these rumors. And since I can’t find a safe way in, I need your help. You only need to do some reconnaissance. The only problem is how gated the community is. They’re not going to let anyone in unless they live there.”

Charles gives you both a cheekily expectant look. The truth is so hard to swallow that you almost can’t process it. “No,” you mutter, shaking your head and smiling, waiting for the punchline. When one doesn’t come you get up from your seat and give him a disbelieving look. “You want us undercover?”

Charles pulls out a key and smiles widely, “Congratulations on your new home, newlyweds.”

Logan shoots up from his seat, it wobbles precariously, nearly toppling to the ground.  “You want me to move into a house with her?” He spits out the sentence like it pains him to even have it in his mouth. A disbelieving smile spread across your cheeks, sardonic laughter slipping through parted lips. “Why can’t I do it with Jean? Or better yet you just get some other asshole to play her husband?”

Your heart stutters to a stop and you quickly rip your eyes off the pair. The stung worse than you think it should. Your heart aches, each beat painful. You feel like someone’s punched through your chest and ripped at all the tender bits. 

“I have chosen you,” Charles loses all humor from his voice. He is stern, like a father scolding his child, as he speaks to Logan. “And that’s the end of it. Besides, I don’t suppose that Jean’s fiance would appreciate her playing house with another man.” He places heavy emphasis on fiance, enough to get Logan to purse his lips and look away from him.

You speak up, your voice a surprise to them both. You claw through the lump in your throat, ignoring the hot burn behind your eyes. “I’m not doing this. Especially not with him,” you force the words out, wiping roughly at your cheeks. “Shit,” you hiss, looking down and trying to hide the tears that have slowly trickled down. 

You don’t allow either of them to argue, running out of the door and ignoring the calls of your name behind you. You can’t do this. Can’t pretend to be in love with Logan, not when he hates you. Not when it’s so close to the truth. 

Evidently, Charles didn't feel like giving either of you a choice.

You drum your fingers along the door handle. The cab of the truck rattles as the trailer drags along behind you. The trees have begun to thin out on the road, and more shopping centers pop up than you’ve seen this whole trip. It’s the how you know you’re getting closer, that and the map on Logan’s thigh. You steal glances at it because he refused to let you help him navigate. 

Besides the occasional ask for a bathroom break and refuted offer of switching drivers, the four-hour road trip has been quiet. You tried to turn the radio on earlier but he’d shut it off nearly immediately. He claimed that the pop shit they play makes his ears ring. 

You were almost tempted to turn it up to full volume if only to torture him a little bit. 

Logan’s rough voice jars you out of your head, “I’m going to need to know your real name.”

You frown, brows furrowed in confusion. Had you still not given him your actual name? He’s always referred to you as Flux, but you just assumed that’s because he didn’t want you to be an actual person in his eyes. It’s easier to hate someone if you can distance yourself from the idea of them having actual feelings. Still, you can’t believe he never asked someone for it. 

It just shows you how little he cares for you. Reluctantly, you give it to him. He hums, something pensive pinching at his face. “What?” You snap, waiting for him to insult you. 

He just shrugs, “It’s pretty,” he mutters, so quiet you almost don’t hear him. You don’t even know how to respond to that, so caught off guard by a genuine compliment that you just choose to ignore it. You doubt he meant it, anyway. He might think the name is pretty, but he doesn’t hold the same opinion of the person connected to it. 

You sink back into the silence, finding it more comforting than jarring now. You’d prefer the familiar feeling of him ignoring you than the abrupt turn in character. He glances over at you, something like regret on his face as he sighs. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything else. Instead, in what feels like an extension of an olive branch, he turns the radio back on. He keeps the volume low, so it doesn’t bother him so much. But at least there’s something to listen to besides your breathing. 

You turn back towards the window, a white sign surrounded by daises coming up as Logan slows the truck down. He flicks on his turn signal, pulling up to Storybrook Walk. He stops in front of a large wrought iron gate and jumps out of the truck. He runs up to a black metal box, flipping the lid open and typing in the code Charles gave you both. As he gets back in the truck, the gate swings open widely. 

You pull your rings out of your pocket and slip yours on. “Here,” you urge, holding Logan’s ring out to him. He huffs, glaring down at it before snatching it out of your hand. He balances his hands atop the wheel, slipping the ring on his left hand. 

The neighborhood is picture-perfect suburbia. The lawns are bright green and manicured to perfection. You can hear children laughing as they play in their backyards and draw out a hopscotch grid on the sidewalk. Women and men who look like they’re straight from the fifties stop on the sidewalk and wave as you drive through the gated community. 

You mouth the numbers on the mailboxes to yourself, sitting up straighter when you’re one house away from your new home for the next few weeks. “Hey,” you frown, noticing a large congregation of people in the driveway of 1220. “This is our house isn’t it?”

Logan frowns, stopping the truck just before pulling in so he doesn’t hit anyway. “Supposed to be.” He glares at the people suspiciously, “Stay here, alright?”

You nod, watching him as he jumps out and rounds the front of the truck. You roll your window down, fingers dancing along the metal of your cuffs. There’s no way you’ve been found out before you’ve even gotten a chance to investigate. 

“Hey!” Logan’s voice is scary on a good day, but when he feels threatened, it’s enough to frighten a grown man. You can see the people flinch slightly away from him. That’s when you spot the wrapped cookies in a blonde woman’s hand and see children hiding with balloons on the porch. 

“Oh, fuck,” you mutter. You throw the door open, racing after Logan before he does something stupid. “Howdy neighbors!” You shout, speaking over him before he gets a chance to say anything else. You rush up to Logan’s side, nearly out of breath in your haste to get to him. “Is this our welcoming committee?”

You glare up at him and his eyes narrow as he sees the same thing you did. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath. 

“Smile and wave,” you whisper through gritted teeth. His lips peel up into something terrifying and it takes everything in you not to flinch back. “What the fuck is that?” You mutter.

“A smile,” he hisses, glaring down at you in irritation. 

A blonde woman steps forward before you can continue your hushed argument. “Welcome!” She calls out in a heavy southern accent, throwing her arms open with a bright smile. She walks as fast as she can in her tight skirt and kitten heels, coming over to embrace you, the casserole in her hand balancing precariously behind you. 

She tugs Logan down into a hug, pressing a kiss to his cheek and staining the skin red. “Surprise!” The kids on the porch jump out with balloons and flowers and she winces. 

“A bit late on the delivery,” she waves it off with a faux chuckle. “But we don’t mind ‘cause they’re so darn cute.” She is very… loud. There’s something about her that is meant to be charming but puts you on edge. She’s got all the familiar characteristics of a woman you’d love to be around, but she’s executing it like someone playing a character. “Shiela,” she holds out her hand, perfectly manicured nails shining bright red. 

You take her hand introducing yourself, “And this is my husband, Logan. Forgive him for his tone, we had an accident on the highway earlier. We’re still a little on edge.”

“Oh no,” she gasps, pressing her nails to her chest and even that seems plastic. “What happened?”

Years of bullshitting your way through school presentations are finally coming in handy.  You think quickly on your feet, something these people would despise. You need something that endears you to them, “Tire blew out and someone tried to raid the trailer while we were fixing it.”

She lets out a disapproving hum and the throng of people behind her echoes it with disturbing harmony.  You find yourself leaning closer towards Logan, feeling like you need to defend yourself against them. You know they’re only an overzealous HOA committee, but there is something uncanny about them. 

Sensing your discomfort, Logan wraps his arm around your shoulder, tugging you into his side. You have to school your features into one of neutrality. You’re supposed to be newlyweds, this is normal behavior for you. His touch feels like ice water being tossed over you, though. His willing embrace makes your head swim with distaste and skepticism. 

“Well,” a man steps forward. He’s conventionally handsome, with brown hair cropped short, slight stubble on his cheeks, slacks, and a button-up that he fills out nicely. His smile, however, stretches too wide and shows too many teeth. A shiver crawls up your spine as he places his hand on Shiela’s shoulder. “You won’t have to worry about people like that here, that’s for sure. John,” he offers his hand to Logan, bypassing you completely. “Head of the HOA here at Storybrook.”

“Nice to meet you, John” Logan falls just short of sincere. He towers slightly over John and you can see that he’s squeezing his hand just a bit too tight by the wince of Jouhn’s face. You dig your elbow into his side and he drops his hand immediately. 

Your gaze drifts over their shoulders and your stomach drops. The people behind them all hold dishes full of food and gift baskets. Their smiles are pinned to their faces, never once flinching out of place. There’s no joy in their eyes, though. They’re glazed over like they’re a million miles away. You would think they were mannequins before you even considered them human. 

“Long drive?” Shiela asks, your eyes dart back to hers only to find her intense stare already wholly focused on you. 

“Yeah,” you answer, clearing your throat of the panic rising in it. “We’re gonna have a fun time unloading this,” you laugh humorlessly, motioning towards the trailer.

She waves her hands in dismissal. “Don’t you worry about that, hun. That’s what neighbors are for after all.” She looks behind her, snapping her fingers a few times. The other’s start going towards the trailer and you feel Logan tense under your touch. 

A kid reaches it first, they manage to unlock it before you shout, “No!” It’s too loud, echoing through the street and making you clench your eyes shut in embarrassment. You turn back towards Shiela and John, both of them wearing shocked expressions. You chuckle awkwardly, “There’s just a lot of family heirlooms. I don’t want to risk them being damaged.” There are no heirlooms, just empty boxes and surveillance equipment that you'll have no chance of explaining away.

Shiela purses her lips into a tight smile, eyes turned to slits as she nods. “Of course,” you know she doesn’t believe you for a second. “Well then, we’ll just take all this inside.” She snaps and the others take their casseroles and gifts and begin flooding towards your front door. Shiela and John walk behind them, herding them all into a straight line. 

You let go of Logan immediately, glaring at the door of your home. Shiela holds a key in her hand, unlocking it and letting everyone inside. You scoff and shake your head in disbelief. “What the actual fuck?” You hiss. 

Logan just shakes his head. “Fucking bizarre, what the hell is wrong with these people?” He starts back towards the truck and you follow him. “I almost prefer the welcoming committee at the manor.”

You roll your eyes, “I was your welcoming committee,” you grouse. 

He shrugs, “I know.” You swat lightly at his shoulder and relatch the trailer’s lock. You linger by the mailbox as Logan pulls the truck into the driveway. He’s getting out just as the others finally leave your house. 

Shiela walks back towards you and you gesture towards the keyring in her hand. “Got a key to my house?” You play it off as a joke but it’s incredibly disturbing to know she could walk in at any minute. 

“Of course,” she smiles and shrugs it off like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “For the safety of everyone here.” Her smile drops and she takes an imposing step towards you, “Inspections are every Wednesday at noon.” Your jaw drops in astonishment and you choke on your words. She cackles loudly, face breaking out into a smile once more. “I’m just kidding, honey! God, your face, you’re too gullible, sweetheart.”

You force out a chuckle, smiling as much as you can force. “Of course, silly me,” you barely make it sound believable. This is going to be much harder than you thought. 

“Well,” John comes up behind her, guiding her away from you. “We’ll get out of your hair now. Welcome, neighbors!” The others around them all call out a Welcome as they drift across your lawn and head back to their own homes. 

Logan walks up to your side, the both of you keeping stilted smiles on your faces, waiting for them to just go away. But they pause at their doors, in almost perfect synchronization they turn and wave at you both. You back further into Logan’s chest and his grip on you tightens. 

“What. The. Fuck.” They step through their homes at the same moment and you feel sick to your stomach. There is something seriously wrong here, you’re not sure you want to find out the truth of it. 

You leave Logan to unload the trailer while you unpack the boxes. You’re forced to do it all by hand while the front door is open. You can’t risk someone stopping by for a visit and seeing you float the couch through the middle of the living room. You’re stumped on how to set up the surveillance equipment. Shiela doesn’t seem like the type to understand boundaries when it comes to popping by for a visit. 

You’re just going to have to keep most of it upstairs and set up some cameras on the porch. You don’t doubt that she’ll abuse that key of hers as she sees fit. You can’t imagine how anyone could stand living in this neighborhood. Having no privacy seems like a nightmare. Especially when the commander of the HOA is John and Shiela. They seem like the type to fine you over a rosebush. 

Logan grunts, dragging in the couch. He pushes it through the doorway and kicks the door closed behind him. The second it’s closed he drops the act and picks the couch up with one hand. “Where do you want it?” 

You point towards the back wall of the living room and he drops it with a small groan. “We’re going to need to put cameras out on the porch,” you inform him, still digging through the box. He walks behind you, heading for the fridge and digging around in it. 

“Fuck,” he mutters. You look up, watching as he tosses aside casserole after casserole. “They didn’t bring any beer?”

You laugh a little and get up, heading towards the cooler you’d packed. “They don’t seem the type.” You lean over, digging around through the melted ice until your fingers brush against cool glass. You straighten up, sending him a coquettish smile. “Want a beer after all that hard work, darling?” You taunt, playing the perfect housewife. 

He scoffs and holds his hand out, snatching it from the air as you toss it at him. He pulls the cap off with his teeth, spitting it out into the sink. “And a sandwich while you’re at it,” he demands roughly. 

If you weren’t a connoisseur of dry humor, you wouldn’t have recognized the joke for what it was. Still, you’re almost too shocked he even bothered to play along with you to laugh. Almost, you can’t help the slight chuckle that slips out.  

He throws himself on the couch, taking a deep swig from the bottle, and the moment feels remarkably domestic. You suppose that it should. That is the whole reason you’re here after all. But you hadn’t expected even a singular pleasant moment with Logan. 

This, playful banter and a shared joke, that’s all you could ever want from him. You would settle for this if it was all he was willing to give you. But he can’t even grant you that. This is one outlier in a long list of rude remarks and dismissive behavior. You can’t let yourself be so easily swayed. 

“I might try and get some cameras on the other houses,” Logan remarks from the couch. He kicks his feet on the coffee table and you click your tongue at him, motioning towards his shoes. With an aggrieved sigh, he undoes the laces of his boots and kicks them off. You glare at the dirt that flings across the carpet but a quick wave of your hand makes it disappear. 

“Don’t bother with the cameras. They’ve all got security.” You turn away from the box you’re unpacking with a pensive frown. “They’re all covered by the same company, too. All of them. Isn’t that weird?”

He scoffs and shrugs. “Anywhere else, yeah. But I’m pretty sure they piss at the same time here.” Your nose wrinkles at his crude words and you roll your eyes. 

“Take this seriously.”

He huffs out a laugh, “I am. Didn’t you see them earlier? They only breathe because Shiela lets them.” You take a seat at the kitchen table, uncomfortable attempting to take a spot on the couch. He sighs when he sees the expression on your face, finally dropping the dismissive attitude. “I’ll just be smart about how I set up our cameras, alright?”

You just nod, reaching for the box of your essentials on the table. It’s strange to be sitting beside him, talking to him. You’ve never gotten more than two words out of him. This is so far out of your normal comfort zone that you feel like you’re crawling out of your skin trying to escape. 

“I’m going to go to bed,” you announce awkwardly, shooting up from your seat at the table. 

The beer pauses halfway to his lips and he gives you an odd look. “Okay?” He responds slowly, not sure why you’re telling him this. You open your mouth, and almost tell him to have a good night, but change your mind at the last second. 

You move towards the bedroom near the front door, “Flux,” you turn slightly and he shakes his head. “Take the one upstairs.”

Your brows furrow, “Why?” You demand, an attitude edging its way into your voice. 

“So if Shiela busts down our door I can protect us,” you know he’s teasing, but the sentiment is nice. “And so I don’t have to set up the surveillance shit upstairs,” your face drops and you roll your eyes. There it is. 

“Dick,” you mutter, storming towards the stairs, your boxes hovering along behind you. His laughter follows you up the stairs, even when you slam the door shut. Although, when you take in the room, you can’t find it in yourself to complain for a second about it. 

While Logan is screwed with the teeny guest room downstairs, you get the largest bedroom you’ve ever been in all to yourself. The closet could practically be another bedroom. The bath is more like a jacuzzi than it is a tub.

A four-poster bed sits against the wall, the fluffiest comforter ever becoming you forth like a siren. There’s even a table in the middle of the room, with a chair, perfect for setting up as your desk. 

You scoff in astonishment, “Oh, I could get used to this.” You place your boxes on the table and start pulling out your clothes. You toss yourself on the bed, bouncing against the sheets, and throw pillows go flying everywhere. You flick your wrist, all your essentials flying out of the boxes and sorting themselves out. 

After a luxurious soak in the tub, you’re spread out along the bed, the limited information from Charles's file spread out before you. There are only a few blurry pictures of the neighborhood and a typed-up page of everything he’s heard about Sotrybrook. There’s nothing even remotely useful here. 

You sigh, tossing the file to the floor and looking out the large window of your room. You’ve got a camera placed on the sill, programmed to take a picture anytime there’s movement. You doubt you’re going to get much from that. The secrets of this place seem to be buried deep. You’re gonna have to get real friendly with your neighbors if you want to get out of here fast. 

Logan is on the computer, trying to sync all of the cameras up. You clean up the dishes from breakfast and tidy up the kitchen. You’re trying to decide how you should start investigating when there’s a dainty knock on the door. 

Your brows furrow and you peer around the cupboards to look at the door. Logan’s head lifts and he shares an odd look with you. He gets up from the couch and glances through the peephole. 

You drop the towel on the counter and frown as his shoulders slump forward. Something pinched appears on his face and he sighs. “What?” You hiss at him.

He turns and glares at you, “You’ll see.” You shake your head in confusion as he throws the door open. 

His attitude makes a lot more sense when you hear a very happy, “Howdy!” Shiela stands in your doorframe, three women hovering behind her. At least they look awake, unlike the people from last night. A redhead with the most gorgeous waves you’ve ever seen holds beach towels in her arms. A brunette with flawless brown skin carries a jug of lemonade. And a woman with black hair and a perfect figure is carrying a plate of cookies. 

All of these women are wearing bathing suits that look like they’ve been snatched out of a fashion magazine from the sixties. Each of them is gorgeous, alarmingly so. They’re beautiful to the point of being flawless. As you walk out of the kitchen and take a step closer, Shiela welcomes herself into your home. 

You don’t even think you see pores on their faces. Each of them offers you the same practiced smile that you force yourself to return. “How are you settling in?” Shiela demands, not asks. 

“Um,” you look to Logan for help but he’s just as perplexed as you are. “Just fine, Shiela, thanks. What are you all doing?”

The redhead rolls her eyes playfully, “Tanning, sweetheart.” She glances at Logan expectantly and he grabs his duffel from by the couch. 

“I think that’s my cue,” he falls easily into the role of a playful husband. But you don’t need him to play along right now. You need him to stay where the fuck he is so you’re not alone with the barbies. 

“Ha ha, don’t go,” you whisper, trying to grab at his sleeve. “Logan,” you hiss, making sure the others can’t hear you as they look around your home. “Don’t do this.”

He dips his head down, and for one stupid moment, you think he might kiss you. “Good luck,” he whispers in your ear, backing off with a smug smirk and letting himself out of the house. 

Oh, you’re going to fucking kill him. 

“Finally,” the brunette breathes out a relieved breath, “I thought he’d never leave.”

Shiela chuckles, “You’re lucky honey. It took us a long while to have ours so well trained.” She motions to the other girls, “This is Madge,” the redhead smiles and gives a cute wave. She introduces the rest quickly and you file the information away for later when you’re writing your report. 

Madge- husband is the vendor consultant for the HOA. 

Sierra - brunette - husband is secretary of the HOA. 

Kimiko - black hair - no husband. 

Your brows furrow in confusion as Kimiko nods in greeting. You return it, suspicions running thick in your blood. It’s odd, that their husbands are in charge of the HOA, you figured they would be. Beyond that, the emphasis they put on it is astonishing. You really didn’t think the HOA was so important but it’s practically the government here. And the women only seem to hold importance if their husbands do. Shiela is essentially their leader, she’s the one you need to impress.

This whole thing seems incredibly backward and like a blast from the past. The way they style their hair, do their makeup, dress- it's all fashioned after the fifties and sixties. You feel incredibly out of place in your worn-down pajamas and frizzy braids. 

“We’re not really tanning,” Madge tells you. “This is just a way for us ladies to get to know the new kid in the neighborhood and tell you everything you need to know,” she leans in, smiling like she’s sharing a conspiratorial secret with you. 

“Don’t let Madge scare you,” Sierra shoots her a glare. “It’s not that big of a deal, it’s just a way for us to escape our husbands for an hour.”

“Well,” you chuckle awkwardly, crossing your arms over your chest as you grow uncomfortable under their tense stares. It feels like their eyes are peeling back your skin, exposing everything underneath as they judge every nook and cranny of your soul. “I haven’t reached that stage yet.”

Shiela’s smile loses some of its humor and she scoffs. “You will,” she assures you, acrid bitterness coating her words. “Give it a few years,” she gives you a bitchy and all-knowing smirk. Your hackles raise, the urge to defend your sham of a marriage rising quickly in you. You bite your tongue, swallowing down your smart retort before you say something you regret. 

You’re not even married to Logan, but you don’t like her butting her nose so far into your business. “Sadly, I don’t have a bathing suit.”

“Oh,” Kimiko gives you a blank smile, “We brought you one.” Madge moves the towels aside to reveal a two-piece that matches their own. In your size. 

Your cheeks ache with a forced smile as you take the bathing suit from them. “We’ll just set up out back,” Shiela lets you know. She turns to the others with a beaming smile, “Come on ladies.” They follow after her like ducklings, and when you look down you see each of their steps are in sync. 

You wait until the back door closes to rush to the front. You throw the door open and Logan jumps from where he’s drilling the camera into the side of the house. “I’m gonna fucking kill you,” you warn.

He chuckles and smirks, “Don’t keep ‘em waiting too long, sweetheart,” he mocks and you slam the door closed with a loud scoff. He was enjoying your suffering far too much, but you shouldn’t be surprised. You’re sure he’s just been waiting for a moment like this. 

You change into the bathing suit and take a deep calming breath. You can do this. You can play pretend for a few hours. 

You wished you’d known being an actor was a part of the job description before you joined the X-Men.

You lay on your stomach along the soft beach towel that Madge brought. The sun isn’t too hot on you, but you also bent the tree behind you to provide a bit more shade when the others weren’t looking. So far, you’ve collected nothing but mindless gossip. 

Sam never takes in his trash cans on time. Alicia has been getting a little too cozy with the gardener. Some couple you didn’t pay attention to is expecting a kid. You’re struggling to pay attention to all the mindless drivel. 

Usually, you wouldn’t mind a little gossip, but none of this feels real. Their words are hollow, smiles empty. Everything they say sounds like they’re reading it from a script. The only person you actually believe cares about any of this bullshit is Shiela. The rest of them seem to just play along, not meaning a word they say. 

You’re gaining nothing useful from this. There’s no information you’ve gotten during this conversation that could remotely help you. All you want to do is go out front and strangle Logan for abandoning you. 

The only good thing about all this is the lemonade and cookies. Which, you admit, you may have indulged yourself a little too much. But at this point, you’re just eating to stay awake. You reach for another cookie and Shiela lets out a dainty huff. 

“I wish I could eat like you,” she laughs and you prepare yourself for the most backhanded insult you’ve ever heard. “But I have to be so careful about watching my figure. Wouldn’t want to lose my waist,” she titters and the other women giggle. 

You toss the cookie back on the plate, rolling your eyes. It feels like you’re right back in high school. You love this, this is great. At this point, you’re just trying to stop yourself from tossing them all out. 

The backdoor slides open and Logan peeks his head out. The women wave and Shiela calls out a sultry, “Hey, Lo.”

Your jaw drops and you can’t help but scoff as you tilt your head to give her an astonished stare. This woman has absolutely zero shame. She’s not even hiding the way she’s ogling him. She’s literally biting her lip. 

You clench your eyes shut, taking a deep breath. There it is, the end of your rope. “Sweetheart, you gonna be done soon?” Logan calls out and you can’t help but smile at the immense satisfaction you feel when Shiela’s face falls. You shouldn’t take so much joy in Logan ignoring her, you know that’s just how he is. But she doesn’t. 

“I think so, hon.” You sit up on your knees, clapping your hands and pretending to be upset. “Sorry, girls, I think I’m needed back in the house.” You get to your feet and pick your towel up. As you do, you flick your fingers, and the lemonade tumbles over, spilling all over Shiela’s pristine white bathing suit. 

She jumps up with a shrill scream, shaking her arms off at the ice-cold liquid and desperately trying to wipe off her bathing suit. Madge and Sierra flock to her and you roll your eyes at how dramatic she’s being. 

Out of the side of your eye, you see someone watching you. You turn slightly, startling when you see the intense glare Kimiko’s sporting. It’s the first genuine emotion you’ve seen from her, but even this seems cold. Her dark eyes are bottomless pits of frigid rage. You find that you can’t look away from her, swaying slightly as her eyes beckon you forward. 

You need to go to her, speak with her, be with her. You need-

Your mind falls short of what you need. But you know Kimko will give it to you. Sierra and Madge both straighten up, both blank-faced as you take a step forward. 

Logan hollers your name again and you jump, shaking your head and breaking whatever trance you’d fallen in. When you look back, all three of them are still fussing over Shiela. You glance to Logan, to see if he saw what had happened. 

His brows are furrowed, face pinched in concern as he looks at you. You think you might have just found Charles’ interference. 

“I think we should look into Kimiko,” you scroll through the list of residents you’d managed to hack into. You’ve been on the computer for hours, trying to find any information bout her at all. Even when you ran a background check, nothing came up. If that doesn’t scream mutant, you don’t know what does. 

Logan walks over to the table with a steaming pan in his hand. You tug your computer glasses off and slide the laptop to the side. He pours some pasta onto your plate and hands you a glass of water. “Thank you,” he gives you a tense almost-smile and nods. 

“Figure out where she lives?” He asks, bringing his own plate to the table. You shake your head and rub your temples, trying to fend off the headache you can already feel forming. You should have taken a break from the research. You can’t stand staring at screens for as long as you did. 

“She’s not even a registered resident.”

“Well,” he sighs and shrugs, “at least we know this wasn’t a waste of time.” You nod in acquiesce and take a bite of your food. Your eyes widen in shock and he laughs at the look on your face. “Didn’t think I could cook?”

You shake your head and smile. “I took you as the type to pour beer in your cereal. But this is,” you stumble over your word. You’re afraid of being too nice to him. You’ve reached a sort of impasse, where you’re not openly hostile, but you’re not exactly friendly. You feel like if you do too much, too fast, he’s gonna be closed off again. “It’s really good.”

He purses his lips and nods, dragging his fork along the porcelain plate. The noise grates on you and only further aggravates the growing headache but you don’t snap at him. You swallow down the frustration and just shovel more pasta into your mouth. 

“This, uh,” Logan takes in a deep breath and lets all out in one gravely exhale. You give him an expectant look and he shrugs. “It hasn’t been as bad as I thought.” He tells you flippantly. 

You narrow your eyes at him, “Is that supposed to be a compliment?” You demand with a firm tone, placing your fork down and leaning back in your chair. 

He lets out an annoyed sigh, “It was just an observation.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. He’s fucking ridiculous. “You know, maybe if you ever tried to get to know me, you wouldn’t have had such a horrible opinion about me.” You try and eat more but the food just tastes like ash in your mouth. You grow antsy, not wanting to sit near him anymore. 

You’re surprised that he’s the one who fucked up the peace. You really thought it would be you. But something about what he said is rubbing you the wrong way. Of course, it hasn’t been bad, you’re not a bad person. He just decided he hated you one day and he’s so goddamned stubborn he never considered anything else being the truth. 

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” he defends, watching with a confused expression as you get up and drop your plate loudly in the sink. 

“You know,” you ignore his weak defense, leaning on the sink. You grip the rim of it tightly, sucking in a deep breath to try and keep yourself calm. “You didn’t even know my fucking name,” you mutter under your breath, shaking your head to yourself. Why are you even bothering with him? You’ll never win and you don’t even know if you want him to change his opinion about you. 

He’s been a dick for so long that you’re not sure you’re even interested in being friends, let alone anything beyond that. 

“Well,” he takes an angered tone as you continue to deflect his attempts at restoring the peace. “It’s not like you told me. You just go by your X-Men name, how was I supposed to know better?”

“By fucking asking!” You shout, whirling around on him, nearly ramming into his chest. You hadn’t realized how close he’d gotten while you’d had your back to him. “If you had, ever, at any fucking point tried to get to know me, you wouldn’t be so surprised that I’m nice. I’m a nice person to be around, Logan. And for some reason I tried to change myself, to make you happy. And it never even worked!” You scoff, a hysterical laugh bubbling up in your throat that you quickly swallow down. You shove past him, escaping the corner he’s backed you into. “Your head is so far up your ass that you didn’t even try to know me before you decided you hated me.”

“What?” He scoffs and glares at you. “I don’t fucking hate you. When have I ever said that? And I never wanted you to change.” He keeps focusing on the wrong things. How he feels about you doesn’t matter, it’s how he treated you. 

“Never, you’ve never said that because you’ve never said more than two words to me. This,” you motion between the two of you, “is the longest conversation we’ve ever had.” A sudden exhaustion settles over you, it weighs heavy on your bones and drapes across you like a blanket. 

You don’t have the energy for this. For him. You don’t want to keep defending yourself to someone who couldn’t care less. There’s no winning with him. He will never listen to you, he’ll just offer half-assed excuses that he thinks absolve him of how horribly he’s treated you. 

He calls your name as you slump into the dining room chair. Your real name, not your X-Men name. “I never hated you,” he tells you, voice soft, but the conviction is strong. 

You stand up, unable to make eye contact with him. “Goodnight, Logan.” You walk up the stairs quietly, never once looking at him. You can’t stand to face him. As much as you’ve tried to bury how you feel about him, it’s still there. 

Being with him like this, having his ring on your finger, it’s a stab in the gut over and over and over. Someone’s taken your most ridiculous and romantic fantasies and turned them into a waking nightmare. You wake up to him every day, eat at the same table, share the same house, and you two couldn’t be further apart. 

You have to keep up appearances, Logan is sure that’s the only reason you’ve joined him this morning. He’s working on the truck while you kneel on a foam pad, planting a rose bush by the mailbox. But the way you’re stabbing the shovel into the ground it looks more like murder than it does gardening. You slam the little trowel into the dirt, lips pulled back like a wild animal as dirt flies up around your hair. 

Logan turns back to the truck, letting out a low whistle under his breath. Besides the insane display of shrubbery abuse, you blend into the neighborhood better than he ever could. You fit that perfect suburban aesthetic, sun hat, cat-eye sunglasses, and a pretty dress. 

You’re good at blending in, better than he ever was. He’s heard you joking about it before. Telling Jean your hidden mutant ability is learning to be a chameleon, fitting yourself wherever you are. He thinks it’s a cute idea, and not too far from the truth. 

He only wishes he were a little more like that. He sticks out like a sore thumb with his wifebeater, fraying jeans, and general countenance of misery. He can’t force a smile when John walks by with a shitty joke. He’s not like you. You stomach all of the women’s vapid nonsense with a smile and manage to seem so unaffected by it all. 

The only time he’s seen you break was last night. And that, of course, had been his fault. He wishes he was better with his words. He’s always been an action man, but clearly, he’s fucked that up with you too. He really did mean it as a compliment. 

He’s just incapable of talking without his foot in his mouth when it comes to you. It’s why he tends to just avoid you and stay quiet. He knows he’ll mess up with you eventually. In the rare chance you ever actually give him a second look, he’d be a shitty boyfriend. And even if you were just friends, he’d still fuck up somehow. He always does. 

He’s learned it’s better to just keep a distance between himself and others. Especially you. He’s always just wanted to keep you away from his bullshit. The haunted past he still knows so little about, all the mental baggage he carries, he never wanted to burden you with it. Even though it seems like he still managed to screw up somehow. 

Even when he’s trying to be good he’s still the bad guy. 

You let out a heavy sigh and his gaze drifts back towards you. The way it always seems to do. You’re his sun, bright, beaming, a golden beacon of hope. But he’s always just too far, eclipsing the light you might bring him with his own stupidity. 

You toss the trowel to the ground and stand up. You frown, brushing off all the dirt you’re absolutely caked in. When he peers around you and glances at the spot where the rose bush is supposed to be all he sees is a crater of earth and ripped up grass. He figures it's better not to mention it. 

You walk over to him, the same scowl you’ve had for the past few days ever-present on your face. “I’m going to take a shower,” you look at him expectantly and he shrugs. You let out a loud sigh and he can’t possibly imagine how he’s messed up now. “You need one too, the barbecues in an hour.”

He’d forgotten about the fucking barbecue. Some annual thing Shiela and John threw that the whole neighborhood went to. “It doesn’t take me an hour to get ready,” he tells you, intending a little bit of playfulness. 

Instead, you just let out an exasperated breath and storm back into the house. How did he keep fucking up with you so badly?

He’s gotten a taste of your personality, your company. He’s tried for so long to avoid getting to know you. He knows that if he truly did, he’d never get over you. He was right. Just one taste of you and he wants more, he wants to consume everything about you that he can. He’s screwed up in so many ways but he can’t just go back to normal after this and act like strangers. 

You smooth the wrinkles out of your cotton dress and let out a low breath. “You need another minute?” Logan grumps from beside you, his stare boring into the door. He didn’t want to come to this. Frankly, neither did you, but he needs to suck it up and be a big boy. You two are here for a purpose greater than yourselves. 

Maybe if you repeat that enough times you’ll start to believe it. 

Kimiko was everywhere that Shiela was. She was her shadow, her loyalist servant. And the only person in this neighborhood who’s shown a sliver of consciousness. You don’t know where she lives, or if she even owns a house here. But you do know she’ll be at this barbecue tonight. 

The only reason you’re bothering to bring Logan along is because you need him to distract Shiela. She drools every time she sees him, practically licking her maw at the sight of him in a tight t-shirt. You can’t really blame her, but she’s a married woman and he’s technically a married man. The lack of shame and compassion is genuinely astonishing to you. 

“No. Let’s just get this over with.” He needs no further prompting as he knocks heavily on the door. Each pound of his fist sounds like a bell tolling your doom. The intense feeling of nausea and eyes on the back of your head has developed and grown increasingly worse the longer you’re here. 

You feel like someone’s pressing against your mind, wiggling their fingers in and squeezing until mush slips through their knuckles. You keep a tight grip on Logan so you don’t tip over. Playing it off as the love-sick newlyweds you’re meant to be. 

Even though the feeling of his skin against yours makes you angrier than you can even begin to fathom. You’ve held onto built-up resentment and anger ever since your little tiff. You’ve heard that tumultuous times are common in the beginnings of marriages. Luckily, you’re getting a divorce the second this fucking mission is over. 

You resent Charles for ever sending you here. Any minuscule hopes you’ve had of finally building a relationship with Logan have been dashed across your front yard. There’s no hope for him. He’ll never change, and how he treats you will never change. 

The door swings open and the music from the backyard drifts through to the front. Shiela smiles widely, greeting you both with a drawn-out Hi! She reaches forward and grabs Logan, tugging him away from you and dragging him into a hug. 

You stumble forward as your support is ripped out from under you. She briefly glances over his shoulder at you and you offer her a sardonic smile. Every bit of you wants to dig your nails into her and rip until chunks of her start flying off. The post beside you warps slightly, bending like it’s melting. 

You dig your nails into your palm, swallowing down your anger, and force the post upright once more. Logan grabs Shiela by the waist, practically yanking her off of him. He steps back towards you, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

You can’t help the smug smile that lifts your lips as you face her. You almost want to rub her face in it. He chose you and he can’t stand you, that says a lot about how he feels about her. You stop yourself, though, it’d be beyond idiotic to let that be the reason your cover is blown. 

“Thanks for inviting us,” you tell Shiela, playing oblivious instead of walking into her trap. You pass her the casserole you half-assed and baked in her dish. “We’re so excited to finally have a home to call our own, and with such wonderful neighbors,” you gasp dreamily. “Oh, it’s just a dream come true.”

Shiela runs a manicured nail along the side of her lip, looking wholly unimpressed. “Mhm,” she hums, “I’m sure.” You share a look with Logan, both of you caught off guard by her sudden dip in personality. Her face is blank, devoid of the usual overwrought happiness and charm. It’s like something’s taken control and drained the life from her. 

Either Kimiko’s here and you’re right about her, or, Shiela is just a depressed housewife who can’t always control when she smiles. You’re hoping it’s Kimiko and you can just end this once and for all. 

“Alright,” she’s back in a second like nothing ever happened. The boom of her voice echoing through the foyer makes you jump. “Let’s get you two outside. And thank you so much for this,” she gestures to the casserole. “You’re just such a sweet little thing aren’t you?”

Everything she says to you feels just a tad patronizing. She’s incapable of complimenting you without minimizing you in some way. You dismiss it, shaking off the funk she always seems to put you in. 

Shiela leads you to the backdoor of her porch where the rest of the neighborhood is. She certainly got the best square footage, that’s for sure. She doesn’t just have the biggest house, she’s also got the biggest yard you’ve ever stepped foot on. 

People are milling about, John’s flipping hamburgers on the grill, and children are playing happily with one another. It feels like an advert for the Fourth of July.

You scan the yard for the only person you’re looking for. You spot her, pushed back towards the shadow of Shiela’s oak tree. Shiela follows your gaze with a frown and scoffs. “I know, hideous isn’t it?”

You jump, startled out of your stupor. “Sorry?”

She points towards the tree. “I wanted to get rid of it, but apparently it’s historic,” she throws up air quotes, inflecting her voice lazily, “or something stupid.”

“Oh, right,” you nod dismissively and she shrugs, hands slapping against her thighs as she nods to her yard. 

“Well, go on, socialize, make yourself at home y’all.” She walks back into the house and you glance back at the yard. 

“Shit,” you hiss, “Kimiko’s gone.” You move away from Logan and take a step down the stairs, he begins to follow you but you stop him with a firm hand to his chest. He frowns down at you and you nod towards Shiela. “I need you playing interception. Those two are attached at the hip. The only thing that’s going to distract her is the hunk of meat she’s been drooling over.” 

Logan frowns and takes a step back. He sets his face and crosses his arms and you sigh, knowing exactly what he’s about to say. “No.” He tells you firmly, not even bothering to hear you out. 

“Well,” you shrug. “Too bad, I need you to do this or we’re never getting out of here.”

He mocks your shrug and nods, “Alright. Fine.” He leans into your space and you feel like you’re being scolded, “I’m not leaving you on your own, okay? And I’m not letting you go after Kimiko alone.”

“I’m not going after her,” you glance around, making sure no one is listening to you talk about their neighbor like she’s on a hit list. “I just need one interrupted conversation with her. Just one,” you’re practically pleading with him at this point. 

You feel pathetic. You’re a grown woman and an X-Men. You shouldn’t have to be bartering with Logan. He should just have some faith in your abilities to not only protect yourself but conduct yourself appropriately on a mission. 

His face screws up in irritation and you know he’s about to really cause a scene. He’ll start arguing with you, and blow your spot up just to get you out of here. You give him a placating smile, a real one because he’s somehow learned to tell the difference. “Logan, it’s only for an hour. I’m sure you can fend Shiela off,” you joke to try and lighten the mood.

He sucks in a deep breath and you know you’ve got him when his shoulders sink in defeat. “Fine. I’m only agreeing to this because you’re practically a chameleon with this shit,” he gestures vaguely to the barbecue and your face pinches with confusion. 

“What?” 

“I heard you talking about it with Jean one day. How you’re a chameleon when it comes to blending in with people.”

“Well, that wasn’t exactly a brag. It’s a method of survival, a way to make people like me. It gives me a fighting chance when they find out I’m a mutant.” God, why are you even talking about this? Why had he even been listening to your conversation with Jean?

He opens his mouth like he wants to say something but you don’t have time for that. “Look, Logan, just go find Shiela.” You walk away from him before he can drudge up more uncomfortable memories of high school. 

You manage to slip through the party relatively unnoticed. You didn’t see where Kimiko had disappeared to. You’re hoping there might be some sort of hint left where she had been. You rush towards the oak tree, using it as a way to scan the party for her again. From here you can’t see anything except the kitchen.  

You’ve got a perfect view of Logan trudging towards Shiela. You can’t help but laugh when she wraps her hand around his bicep, eagerly telling him something. You smile and shake your head, the audacity of this woman is amazing. 

Something catches your eye, right by your foot. Glancing down you see something silver glinting through the grass. Frowning, you kneel and scoop it up. It’s an oblong device, small, and fits in the palm of your hand. It’s curved oddly, and the lights on it start flashing bright red as you hold it.

“What the hell?” You flip it over, a warped mirrored reflection on the back of it. You just barely spot Kimiko’s twisted face in the reflection before the world goes black. 

You groan, slowly blinking the fog of a forced sleep out of your eyes. You reach to swipe at your face, but something is holding your wrists down. You jerk your arms a few times, struggling against whatever restraints are wrapped around you. When nothing happens, you instead focus on the feeling of it against your wrist, trying to get it to dissolve. 

“Don’t bother,” a cool voice calls out from the shadows. There’s one bright light shining down on you, like the type you might see above an operating table. The entire room feels sterile. And it’s cold, you can barely feel the tips of your toes or fingers. 

“What’d you do?” You demand, trying to sound intimidating but your words come out as a slur. The back of your head radiates pain and it takes everything in you just to keep your eyes open. 

“I developed a gas,” the voice circles the room, echoing across the curved walls. You hear footsteps but you can’t tell where they’re coming from. “It halts the neurons in a mutant’s brain that fire when they use their abilities. Temporary, but quite handy when I’m dealing with a mentalist like you.”

Kimiko steps out of the shadows like a bad comic book villain. Her face is blank, no expression on it, somehow, it’s the realest she’s ever looked before. Here, you can see her humanity. Pores across her nose, frizz and oil along her hair, her nose just a little bit crooked. Whatever she’d been doing to herself has been wiped away. And the human woman lurking beneath is finally revealed. 

“There you are,” you mutter, your speech slowly coming back to you. “I knew that plastic face wasn’t real.”

“Everything was going just fine until you and Wolverine got here,” she gives you a sharp look, “Flux.”

You sarcastically gasp, “Wow, you know my X-Men name. It’s not like I haven’t been interviewed before. What’s the plan here, Kimiko? Where are the others?”

Her brows pinch, “Others?”

“The mutants you’re trafficking.”

“Oh,” she laughs and it’s so jarring you nearly jump. “Is that what people think?” Hesitantly, you nod, but you’re beginning to feel like you might have gotten something very wrong. “No, that’s not what we’re doing here.”

“We?”

“Shiela and I. We have much simpler plans, much more peaceful. You see, Shiela’s the only person to ever stand beside me after she found out I was a mutant. She gave me a home, a friend, and a sense of belonging.” There’s something devout in her words, like a humble follower kneeling at the feet of their god. “Everything I have, everything I am, I owe to her.”

You’ve seen Shiela’s manipulation firsthand. You have no doubt that she’s never actually done anything for Kimiko. She’s just made her think she had and instilled in her this sense of owing her something. 

Then again, Kimiko’s getting this look on her face. She’s like a rabid dog staring down the barrel of their owner’s shotgun. Perhaps she hadn’t needed much prompting to develop such an unhealthy attachment. “Shiela’s parents never loved her the way they should have. They never gave her the perfect life she deserved. So I created one for her.”

She rolls a tray of surgical tools over and a sense of panic finally starts to rouse within you. Yet, for the first time in years, your powers aren’t here to help you. You have nothing to rely on but yourself. But you’ve been trained so intensively in using your abilities as a protector rather than an inhibitor that you’re practically useless without them. 

“All these people,” you rush the words out as she picks up a syringe. You don’t know what the yellow liquid inside is, but from the look on her face, you don’t want to. “You’re controlling them?”

Kimiko nods and you’d be staggering if you weren’t strapped down. Not even Charles could control this many people at once. Not without Cerebro. “Kimiko, that’s,” you gasp, flinching away as she brings the needle towards your arms. “It’s incredible!” Your quick rise in volume makes her jolt and the syringe tumbles out of her hands. 

She grumbles to herself, leaning over to pick it up. “Does Shiela know?” She pauses at the mention of Shiela’s name, brushing her hair over her shoulder and glaring at you. 

“Yes. Of course she does, this is my greatest gift to her.”

“Really?” Your voice drips with contrived empathy. “Then I’m sure she’s done something incredible for you back.” You were hoping a simple manipulation tactic might work, that you could turn Kimiko against an ungrateful Shiela. But this type of obsession isn’t one that can’t be destabilized with a few jumbled words. 

No, you only make her angrier. “Back? Back?” she practically screams, her voice raw and feral as she leaps into your face. You flinch as far back as you can as her face hovers over yours, screaming right at you. “I owe her everything! I should thank her for letting me breathe the same air as hers!”

Your jaw drops, a silent scream tripping out of your mouth as you gasp for air. Something squeezes against your brain, the pulsing from before returns with a vengeance. You can feel your mind pulsing and swelling, pushing against your skull. 

“Don’t fucking say her name again,” Kimiko glares down at you, her eyes devoid of any remorse or compassion as she makes your brain swell until blood leaks down your ears. Whatever plan she had before has been abandoned, she’s going to just kill you now. 

You’re going to die in her basement, no one will ever see you again. Your eyes throb and you feel your brain push to its fullest limits. The pressure builds, builds, and builds until it explodes. 

“Then you just pour a little sugar in.” Logan watches as Shiela tips nearly an entire bag of cane sugar into her jug of sweet tea. His stomach shrivels at the sight and he fights down bile. A little bit of sugar drops over the edge. She catches it on her finger and looks over her shoulder, licking the sugar off and practically deepthroating her own finger. All while maintaining a disturbing amount of eye contact with Logan. 

“Well,” he knows that he promised you a while with Kimiko, but he can’t handle much more of this. “Thank you so much for this,” he struggles with the word, landing weakly on, “lesson.” He’s not even sure what the point of watching her prepare all this food was. 

He’s pretty sure she just wanted him to see her leave a rim of red lipstick at the bottom of her finger as many times as possible. The entire time he’s just wanted to go back to you. There’s a nasty feeling gnawing at him and he knows he needs to get back to you soon. 

“Oh,” she seems genuinely disappointed and Logan sighs awkwardly. “Leaving already, huh?”

He points to his ring pointedly reminding her of the reality of their situation. “Gotta get back to the wife.”

She doesn’t even try to hide her sneer as he mentions you. “Of course, just the perfect husband aren’t you?”

Logan doesn’t dignify that with a response, too distracted by what’s happening outside the window. People have begun to wander around aimlessly, some of them stumbling into the fencing. They just keep walking forward, knocking into the wood repeatedly, not once stopping. John’s got a stuck smile on his face as he leans against the grill, Logan can see smoke rising from where the flesh of his palm is melting onto the metal. A few people all run into each other, collapsing on the ground and just lying there. 

They’re like robots, suddenly without command and unsure what to do. They’re following their programming without anyone putting a stop to it. Shiela follows his gaze and gasps. “Excuse me,” she mutters, practically running out of the room. 

Logan tries to find you amongst all the mess but you’re nowhere to be seen. “Fuck,” he growls out, looking back to where Shiela had run. He should have fucking known not to leave you on your own. 

He stalks after Shiela, listening to her racing heart and the slam of a downstairs door. He follows her down the steps leading to her basement. It looks the same as every other one he’s ever been in. Except, for the metal door hidden behind a few shelving units. The only reason he spots it is because Shiela knocked over a can of paint in her rush toward it. 

Anger brews hot and putrid in his gut. The claws come out unbidden, and the thought of you being locked away in that room pushes him forward. If you’re not in there, he’ll get an answer from Shiela one way or another. But he’s not going to let you get hurt because he didn’t have your back. 

“What the hell are you doing?” A shrill voice interrupts. Your head sinks back against the cool material of the table, brain surging back into place. Your teeth ache, white-hot pain rushing through your bones as Kimiko finally releases her grasp on you. 

Kimiko gives Shiela the look of a dog who just got in trouble. “She found my amplifying device. I have to get rid of her.” She holds the device you found earlier out to Shiela. 

So, she wasn’t as powerful as she pretended. She did need help. It explains why the entire neighborhood is always in the same area, she needs them close to keep control. “Whatever you’re doing is making my toys malfunction.”

Shiela hisses at Kimiko, she darts forward and slaps her hard across the back of the head. If you weren’t in excruciating and paralyzing pain, you’d flinch at the sound. Being as if your brain was just about to explode, though, you could give less of a shit if she beats her rabid dog up. 

These two crazy bitches deserve each other. You just want a Tylenol and a nap at this point. “Well, aren’t you two twisted sisters?” Logan slips through the door, his claws glinting under the light of the room. “Toys?” He demands, eyes roaming the room desperately. 

The second he sees you, strapped down and with blood pouring from your orifices, something slips over his face. It’s like a mask being ripped off. The man he pretends to be is ripped apart by the animal truly lurking within him. Neither women have time to even defend themselves. He goes for Kimiko first and all you see his claws plunging down before arterial blood sprays across your face. 

You groan, tilting your chin the other way and spitting the metallic liquid out of your mouth. There are a long few minutes of screaming, clothes shredding, and blood splashing against every surface of the room. By the time he’s completely calmed down, you’re drenched in it. 

You suck on your teeth, rolling your head limply and finally getting a good look at him. He’s panting, standing over their mutilated corpses with blood dripping down his claws. There’s a wrath on his face you’re happy to have never been on the other end of. But the second he looks at you, you see nothing but stark relief. 

He breathes out your name, your real one, and surges towards you. “Claws!” You shout, hurting your head again. But he was a second away from accidentally skewering you. They’re put away in an instant as he undoes the straps holding you down. 

You groan in relief as the pressure around your head and limbs is released. He perches himself on the edge of the table and scoops you into his chest.

You’re still loopy from Kimiko messing around in the grooves of your brain. The best you can manage is weakly draping your arms along his sides. He pulls you back and brushes the hair out of your face, laughing a little at the blood covering you. “They do anything to you?”

You shrug, “Besides turn my brain into a pressure cooker? No.”

The smile drops from his face and he glares down at the remains of the women. If you weren’t so tired, you’d think he wants to kill them again. “I should have been here.”

“Logan-” You want to tell him not to be ridiculous. You had insisted you could take care of yourself. Told him it would only be a conversation when you knew that was never going to be true. You’d gotten yourself into this, you were lucky he was there to get you out. But you don’t say anything because he interrupts you as he so often does. 

“I can’t keep acting like this is all okay. Like I’m happy with how we treat each other. I thought I was going to lose you, I’m not going to keep pretending I don’t care about you.”

Your face screws up in confusion and you’re not sure you want to hear where he’s going with this. You’ve been used to this dynamic between the two of you for so long. You’re used to him treating you like he can't stand to breathe the same air as you. If this is going where you think it is, you’re not sure you can handle it. 

“Logan,” you’re regaining some feeling in your limbs now. You use the returning strength to push away from him, shaking your head in disbelief. “No, you can’t do this. You can’t just change your-”

He’s incapable of letting you finish a single sentence. His hands wrap around your cheeks tugging you forward until your lips are brushing together. It’s enough of a shock to get you to stop talking. You don’t reciprocate, too stunned to even think about moving. 

He brushes his lips against yours again, firmer this time. Under the layers of blood coating you both, you’re wholly enveloped by him. His scent, his arms, everything about him drapes over you like a warm blanket. Against your better judgment, you find yourself returning the kiss. 

You move further into his lap, one hand holding his face and the other clutching at his hair, needing something to hold to keep you steady in this moment. Logan smiles against your lips, deepening the kiss without wasting another beat. His tongue moves gently across yours at first. A curious caress to see how well you two fit together. He groans when he gets a taste of you, pushing further in and kissing you like he wants to devour you.  

There’s warmth blooming in your stomach and spreading all along your body. You’re buzzing with adrenaline and pain and this unidentifiable feeling that Logan is evoking from you. It’s not the sweet mushy, romantic kiss you always imagined with him. 

This is desperate. Like a dying man’s last attempt at redemption. He’s tasting you like you’re rare, something to be savored. You feel like you’re the only thing left in existence. The only person left for him to admire. You forget the gore behind you, the tumultuous experiences you’ve had with him. 

You let yourself fall into the moment, a blind leap of faith into a pool of all your hopes and desires. He’s better than you ever could have imagined. More desperate than your wildest fantasies. He makes no move to stop, even as the air becomes scarce and you both have to part longer. He just grips you tighter, hands wrapped around you like he’s worried if he lets go he’ll lose you. 

He could, he could lose you. This kiss of his is putting you into a trance, distracting you from all he’s trying to make up for. Perhaps if he stops kissing you, you’ll remember it all and want nothing to do with him. But you don’t see that happening, you just see yourself craving more and more for him., You feel the addiction forming already. A deep-seated need in your bones is finally being sated, it will always need more from him. 

When you can no longer survive on the shared oxygen between you both, you’re forced to part. Your cheeks tingle from the stubble of his beard and you know your lips are pink and swollen because his are too. You’re both still coated in blood and you share a familiar glean in your eyes. 

“I never hated you,” he sounds breathless and you love that you’re the cause of it. “I just didn’t want to lose you.”

You scoff, but there are no cruel intentions behind it. “So you push me away before you ever get a chance to have me?”

He gives you a crooked smile, “I never said I was smart.” You can’t help but laugh at that. Slowly, he helps you to your feet, ignoring the puddles of blood and bits. “We'll have to call Charles. He needs to help the people out there.”

“We also need to let him know there’s no trafficking ring. Just one fucked psyche.” You shoot another glare at the pile that was Kimiko, still bitter about her experiment with your brain. As Logan helps you up the stairs of the basement, you stop him just before you reach the door. 

He gives you a concerned look, like he thinks you’ve hurt something somehow. “I want to talk to you. Really talk to you about everything.” Concern gives way to dread and you can’t help but smile at the regretful look on his face. “But first,” his head perks in interest at your tone, “maybe we can finally enjoy that master bed together?”

“You know,” he leans down, swiping his arms under your knees and lifting you. You gasp, through your arms around his neck and squeezing until you worry you might suffocate him. “You really are the smart one of us, aren’t you?”

“Clearly.”

You’re not sure how well this transition to married couple to tentatively something else is going to go. But you have hope and it's kept you going for all these years. What's wrong with letting it linger a little longer?

a/n: Guess who's back, back again? Hint, it's Flux. I missed writing for them, so I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did. Although, I worry the ending was too cheesy.

Reblogs, comments, likes, and requests are always appreciated !!

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp ♡ 

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte

@mrs-ephemeral  @wolviesgirl @insomniachox @izbelross @spktrlvr ♡

[lilgynt]

got two really bad calls completely erased my anxiety about being laid off bc i hate this place

[rafey-baby]

c/w: stalker!rafe being creepy & stealing reader's underwear, suggestive texts from an unknown number & a stranger walking her home

wc: 2.3k

he’s been on my mind lately…happy kinktober xx

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The feeling of impending doom has been crawling up her bones for several weeks now. At first, she thought it was merely her imagination playing tricks on her; having watched one too many horror films with her friends but as the days went on and the feeling of unease continued, she began to feel paranoid. 

She kept feeling like someone was watching her; lurking in the shadowy corners of her house and following her every movement with a morbid gaze glued to her form whether she was out with friends or merely cleaning her living room.

She didn’t like it, didn’t know when it exactly began but she wanted nothing more than for the peculiar feeling to disappear.

She’d be changing her clothes in order to get ready for bed when suddenly a shiver would tingle along her spine and make her snap her head towards her window; trying to desperately catch some creep ogling her, so she'd finally have some sort of an explanation. Instead, she’d be met with nothing more than the leafy trees of her gloomy backyard before she’d quickly draw the curtains closed. 

In addition, lately she’d been having nightmares more often than usual; waking up in the middle of the night panting with her heart thudding in her ribcage and sometimes she could swear she felt the eyes of a stranger still lingering on her sweaty skin. 

Then one night, when she’s rinsing her mouth after brushing her teeth, her phone lights up with a notification.

unknown number

why are your bedroom curtains never open anymore?

look so pretty in your underwear…

4 attachments

The device clatters against the bathroom tiles when it slips from her hold as her eyes scan over the multiple pictures of her half naked; all taken through the glass of the large window in her room. A window she's lately been making sure is covered at all times.

She plucks it from the floor with trembling fingers and reads over the messages once more; heart rapidly thudding in her ribcage making it hard for her to think as her fingertips glide across the screen to type out a response. 

you

who is this?

im gonna call the cops

unknown number

do I scare you?

And instead of responding, she blocks the number. However, when the police arrive and search her house and her backyard, they find nothing. They merely tell her that it’s ’probably nothing serious, just some kid pulling a prank on you’ with an apologetic smile before leaving. 

A couple of days go by and she’s beginning to believe that maybe it was truly someone playing tricks on her when all of a sudden, her phone vibrates with an incoming call from another unknown number as she’s boiling pasta for dinner.

This time, she decides to simply ignore it; choosing to believe it’s someone calling the wrong number for her own peace of mind. However, that’s long forgotten when a new message illuminates the screen and her breath gets caught in her windpipe as she scans it over. 

unknown number

breaking my heart here princess :(

you

leave me alone

unknown number

but that’s no fun, is it?

you

what do u want from me?

unknown number

want you to keep your curtains open more often

you

so u can take more pictures of me?

unknown number

can just watch if that’s what you prefer?

you

leave me alone

please

She repeats before turning off her phone for the rest of the night. 

She thinks he’s actually listened because no unknown numbers try to contact her for some time, causing her to turn less anxious by each silent day that rolls around. However, when she begins to notice that pairs of her underwear keep disappearing, her mind wanders over to the only person who could be behind it.

At first, she doesn’t think too much of the fact that she can’t seem to find her favorite panties anywhere, assuming she’s merely misplaced them. However, when a white lacy pair she saves for special occasions vanishes from her drawer she grows restless. If she hasn’t worn it in months, it should be where she left it, right?

The air suddenly feels like sand; poking at her lungs as if it’s filled with tiny rocks when she becomes aware of the fact that in order for him to steal her stuff he’s had to break into her home. Therefore, he’s been in her bedroom before and probably her kitchen, living room and bathroom as well. And the first time could’ve easily been weeks ago. 

Nausea steeped in dread grovels up her insides and sits heavy in her stomach at the realization that he could be in here right now.

If he wanted to hurt her, then he would’ve done it by now. Or at least that’s what she keeps telling herself in order to offer some form of solace for her troubled thoughts.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The following night she’s wiping her eyes clean of mascara by the sink when a text pops up. 

psycho stalker

someone came home late

have fun on your date?

Chills erupt on her skin as she peers down at the screen. After the all too tedious date she’s just had, she’s entirely too exhausted with his arduous mind games on top of it all; wants to bury herself under her covers and close her eyes for an eternity.

However, she’s not entirely convinced he won’t come up with another way to disturb her if she stops responding altogether as another message pops up.

psycho stalker

assuming not too much fun since you didn’t bring him home..

you

none of your business 

psycho stalker

was he boring?

talked about himself the whole time and didn’t ask a single question about you?

She blinks a few times because he’s not exactly wrong. How on earth did he— 

you

what the fuck is wrong with you

you’re following me now??

She tries to remember whether she saw anyone suspicious at the restaurant but she can’t recall anything out of the ordinary catching her attention. However, she wasn’t aware she was supposed to keep her eyes open for her possible stalker, which is why her brain isn’t being very helpful at the moment.

psycho stalker

just wanted to make sure you were safe

you

I feel very safe right now thank you

psycho stalker

someone’s got an attitude

that bad?

you

please just leave me alone 

psycho stalker

what color are your panties?

you

what the hell?

not telling you that

psycho stalker

want me to come over and find out for myself then? 

you

u wouldn’t do that 

psycho stalker

wanna bet?

She tries to even out her respiration because she does not want to find out whether he’s merely toying with her or if he’s actually being serious. 

you

…

black

psycho stalker

with the lace?

you

yes

psycho stalker

shit

that’s one of my favorites on you

you

you’re sick in the head

psycho stalker

that’s not very nice

did you wear them for him?

you

he wasn’t worth it

don’t think he would’ve even been able to make me come

psycho stalker

yeah?

need help with that?

you

not from you creep

why are you stealing my underwear?

psycho stalker

cause you don’t give me shows anymore :(

they’re a little dirty now but want me to return them?

you

you’re disgusting

psycho stalker

and you're up past your bedtime cause you like talking to me

you

I don't

gonna sleep now

please leave me alone

psycho stalker

sweet dreams princess

At that, she finally locks her phone; wishing she’ll actually be granted some well needed rest tonight.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

One night she’s walking home from the grocery store, mind occupied with the prospect of digging into the tub of strawberry ice cream in her bag as she’s messaging her friend who’s enthusiastically telling her the details of the kiss she shared with a girl she’d had a crush on for ages.  

Then completely out of the blue, she bumps into someone’s sturdy chest.  

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she's quick to apologize before she looks up and is met with blue sapphires that twinkle even under the dim street lamps.  

They’re slightly covered by the guy’s chocolate hair falling into his face, resulting in him raking a hand through the strands as his brows raise, almost like he's surprised. However, that wouldn't really make any sense since she's never seen him before, she figures. 

“S’all good. Wasn’t really looking either,” he rasps out as his intense gaze bores into her, almost as if he’s studying her; examining her every reaction. 

“No, it was really my fault. Shouldn’t be texting and walking at the same time,” she forces out a laugh and tries to step away from him and continue on with her journey. However, he halts her movements when he speaks up again.   

“Shouldn’t be walking alone this late either, you know. All kinds of creeps out here just waiting for the opportunity to attack pretty girls like you,” he reminds her with a strange tinge to his voice that causes the hairs on her arms to stand.  

She’s unable to pinpoint what it is exactly. She thinks his features are otherwise quite appealing but there’s something almost disturbing about his aura. 

“I know, but it’s really just a ten-minute walk. I’ll be fine,” she offers him a tight smile, timidly fiddling with the strap of her shopping bag.  

“Why don’t I walk you home, yeah?” His offer comes out as something ominous rather than concern over her safety and the stillness of the darkened October sky surrounding them suddenly makes unease litter across her skin.  

“No, I think I’m okay. Thank you, though,” she politely declines and tries to tiptoe away from his intimidating presence, albeit uselessly.  

“It’s past midnight already, let me walk you,” he nearly insists; seemingly not accepting no for an answer as his tone resembles more of a demand now. 

“O— okay, um…sure,” she swallows around the words and watches how the corners of his mouth tug up. What has she gotten herself into? For all she knows, this man could be a serial killer and she's just signed up her faith as his next victim. 

The murky sidewalk is quiet as they tread along it and she keeps glancing towards him every now and then; reassuring herself that a sharp knife or a gun hasn't magically appeared in his hand. 

Although, she thinks he wouldn't need a weapon to drag her helpless form into the woods with his much stronger arms. Under the obscurity provided by the old trees, he could easily strangle her until her soul would wither away from her lifeless eyes; getting his fix from leaving her limp body on the muddy moss as death kisses her cold, tear-streaked cheeks.  

“Something on your mind?” His sudden question makes her jump. 

“N— no, nothing. I just— have we met before?” She hesitantly asks, turning to look at him and noticing his gaze already resting on her face.  

“Pretty sure I’d remember if we had,” his indistinct response is calm, too calm for her liking.  

“It's just that, um, it's a small neighborhood and I've never seen you around?” She flits her eyes over to him, trying to figure him out. 

“I don't live here,” his tongue peeks out to wet his bottom lip; the ambiguity of his answer not soothing her racing brain in the slightest.  

“Oh, okay...cool,” she peeps out; trying to appear as nonchalant as ever, even if her breathing has turned fragmented and her head is spinning.  

A gruesome smirk morphs his mouth at her obvious nervousness and for some reason, he appears to be enjoying this; finding crooked entertainment in her dismay.  

He halts in front of her home before she’s even digested that they’ve already arrived at her destination.  

“How did you— how did you know this was my house?” She tentatively wonders. 

“Lucky guess,” he merely shrugs with a smile that's nowhere near uplifting. 

She blinks. 

“Right, well, thanks for walking me...I’m gonna go now,” she squeaks out and takes a step towards the front yard.  

“Sweet dreams, Princess,” he murmurs and her entire form tenses in response to the familiarity of the nickname. 

“What did you just say?” Something dire bubbles up in her throat at the bizarre sense of deja vu. 

“Just wished you a good night? You feeling alright?” He furrows his brows in what should appear as concern for her wellbeing but she notices something twisted glinting in his overly worried eyes; almost like some sort of sick satisfaction.  

“I’m— I’m fine. Just…tired, I guess,” she manages out as a crease forms between her brows and her breathing grows labored when his mouth curls into an almost sinister smirk.  

“You sure?”  

She flinches when he sets a heavy hand on her arm and he's suddenly all too close for comfort. 

“Y— yes,” she tries to pull away. However, she unfortunately stumbles on her wobbly feet, nearly tumbling down on the harsh grass if not for his firm arms holding her upright by a grip on her waist. 

“Careful now, don't wanna hurt yourself, do you?” He scolds her with a click of his tongue; steadying her with an intrigued narrow of blue gemstones.  

“Sorry,” a breathy apology escapes past her lips as her eyes flicker down to where his touch is burning her skin, even through the thick material of her sweater. 

“Run along then, yeah?” He murmurs as he lets go of her along with a small push towards the right direction.   

Then she’s scurrying over to her doorstep, feeling his eerie stare following her; trepidation clogging her lungs as she decides against glancing towards him once more, closing her front door and making sure it’s locked, twice. 

[acourtofpenandpaper]

Our girl (Bat Boys x Reader)

Warning: Filthy smut ahead. Be warned, under 18 stay away.

For all others: enjoy...

Tags: Why choose? Bat boys x Reader, smut, 18+, group sex, oral sex, breeding kink, exhibitionism, daddy kink, praise kink

Summary: Exploring the nightlife of Velaris isn't easy for me when I get dragged away from the dance floor. I was just feeling up my chances with a fae male to take home with me. But Rhys, Cassian and Az have other things in mind. And they don't like to share with others...

Length: 4.1k

Masterlist

Swaying with the beat of the music, I let go completely. Pearls of sweat clung to my chest, but I didn’t mind. It came with all the dancing, but this was exactly what I had come for tonight. After some persuasion from my side, I made the guys accompany me to explore the new club that opened in Velaris’ entertainment quarter.

Reluctantly, the High Lord of the Night Court had agreed to my nightly plans, and Cassian and Azriel followed suit after some persuading.

The Fae male had appeared by my side suddenly and with a smile, we danced around each other. He was beautiful, his blonde hair cut short and his eyes piercingly blue. I wouldn’t mind laying in his bed tonight. Imagined his full lips in-between my legs. My pulse shot to my middle, and I felt my panties dampen.

Oh, what I would do to get laid tonight. It had been a while. Entirely too long…

But I couldn’t finish my thought before a large hand landed on my dance partner’s shoulder.

Me and the blonde Fae looked to our sides. Cassian stood next to me, the spotlights highlighting the muscles peaking out from his shirt. He smirked and turned to the other male who looked concerned.

“Thanks for looking out for my girl. I can take it from here”, he shouted and grabbed my hand.

I wanted to protest but it was no use. With an apologetic look, I mouthed a quick goodbye to the male who looked just as dumbfounded as I felt right this moment.

But the pull on my hand was relentless, so I had no choice other than following Cassian through the crowd on the dance floor.

He abruptly stopped by the side of the floor next to a flight of stairs that apparently lead upstairs. I crashed face first into his broad and hard chest, and I couldn’t help but give him an upset look.

“Cassian, what the hell was that?” I shouted over the loud bass of the music. The music was so loud, I could feel all the vibrations coming from the various speakers in my body. It was a levitating feeling.

With his large hand, Cassian tipped up my chin and met my gaze with a grin on his lips. His highly delicious lips.

If the blonde Fae male from before had been pretty, Cassian was in an entirely different universe. So handsome it was painful. And I had to admit I envied the women he bedded.

But that envy extended to all my out-of-this-universe-handsome friends. Rhys, Cassian and Az were not only great friends but also insanely nice to look at.

And being the lucky girl tonight, I met Cassian’s gaze with confidence.

He finally opened his mouth and dropped close to my ear. My eyes fluttered in response to his hot breath on my skin.

“I was under the assumption that and just to note, Az and Rhys are sharing my view, that you haven’t dragged us into this club just to leave us alone.”

Baffled, I leaned back and said: “And I was under the assumption that you would mingle with other people.”

He chuckled softly and pushed back a loose strand of my hair. I couldn’t help but shiver under his touch.

“Okay, next time we’ll work on our communication. Rhys booked a private room in the VIP section, so we could have some…privacy. They are upstairs and hopefully, got some drinks.”

I should’ve guessed that the High Lord of the Night Court wouldn’t just dance around with the normal crowd. He had a reputation to protect and couldn’t just publicly grind on a stranger. Fair enough.

“Sorry for wandering off. You didn’t have to scare that poor guy, though”, I chuckled and laid my hand in Cassian’s.

He stepped aside for me to take the stairs and followed closely.

“It was fun, wasn’t it? He will get over it. Not that he stood a chance with taking you home or…?”

“Cassian, are you asking me if I wanted to fuck him? The answer is yes, a hundred times. It’s been a while, and I am not…”

I abruptly stopped mid-sentence.

“And you are not what?” He crooned and opened the first door to the right of the hallway.

“Nothing. Forget what I said.” I tried to brush it off.

We both entered the room. Rhys and Azriel were already sitting on of the couches, drink in hand. The room was dimly lit but the first thing I noticed was the big window facing the dance floor. From downstairs, I didn’t see the big window because of the dark and bright lights. But from here, I had a perfect view of all the people dancing.

“Had a little fun without us?” Rhys asked by my side and handed me a glass with a cold liquid. Knowing him, he knew that I didn’t do alcohol and I was delighted tasting sweet soda.

So, they had seen me dancing with the other male. Probably ordered Cassian to go fetch me to ruin my chance at having a little fun tonight.

“Yes, until this jerk came and ruined my fun”, I joked and pointed to Cassian who crashed onto the other couch. “Is this window…can they see us?”

Rhys flicked a switch on the wall to his side. “There is a switch for privacy. We can see them, but they cannot if we don’t want to.”

“Say, what did you want to say right before entering the room?” Azriel asked, still sitting on the couch and sipping his drink.

Was there ever a word Azriel didn’t hear? I faced him and waved off his question nonchalantly.

“Oh, it was nothing really.”

“Actually, she was just telling me that I ruined her chance of getting laid tonight. Because it’s been a whi…ouch!” Cassian laughed when I threw a soft pillow to make him shut up.

This male would be the death of me.

“I see”, Azriel responded. In the dim light of the room, I could make out a slight twitch in the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, is that so? I wouldn’t have reckoned you having issues in this regard”, Rhys said, sitting down on the edge of the couch. His gaze was set on me.

“Well, not everyone looks like they got out of every woman’s or man’s wet dream, so excuse me wanting to take my chances”, I explained, pointing towards the guys.

Suddenly, I felt cornered in my place by the window. But nobody had moved. Yet, I could feel the air somehow becoming warmer. Three pair of eyes seemed to study me closely and I was scared to move.

“A woman’s wet dream?” Cassian chuckled. “I feel flattered.”

“Don’t listen to him”, Rhys whispered and stood. “I am more concerned about your lack of self-awareness. I am sure you have no trouble finding a male or female to take home with you. You just have no interest in them, I reckon. Say, what is your wet dream?”

He stepped closer to me while I tried to hold my distance by taking a step back. The cool glass of the window caressed the naked skin of my back.

My eyes flitted around the room, finding all the guys’ gaze on me. I gulped and met Rhysand’s eyes.

“I want to be owned. Claimed.”

Rhys hummed in response. Now he was towering me, our chests almost touching. I craned my neck to see his face.

“Claimed by whom?”

This wasn’t possible. They were my friends, purely platonic. For them at least. I had to admit that sometimes my fantasies surrounded them when I was touching myself. But the lust in his eyes spoke truth. And our intentions seemed to align tonight.

I dared to look to his side to see the same hunger in Cassian’s and Azriel’s eyes. What the hell was happening? But it felt like another, more confident version of myself, taking over as my mouth opened and I whispered:

“By you. By you all.”

Rhysand’s purple eyes took on the darkest shade I had ever seen them.

“Fucking finally.”

His hand reached up to my neck and he pulled me closer to him, crashing his mouth on mine. Somehow, I still ended up surprised by this whole interaction, so I just stood there trying to process.

Rhys seemed to notice my reluctancy and leaned back, his eyes still hungry.

“You okay with this? We don’t have to…”

“No, no! I want you, it’s just a lot at once”, I breathed.

“Maybe I was a bit greedy. Let’s get you comfortable, what do you say, guys?”

“Seems like a good idea”, Cassian’s voice sounded from the back.

He led me to the couch, and I sat down next to Cassian while Rhys followed and sandwiched me between them. My gaze flicked back to Azriel who lazily drew circles on the couch’s cushion and studied us.

“Our girl wants a slower pace, so she is going to get it”, Rhys breathed against my neck and spread slow kisses on my sensitive skin.

Our girl.

The sound of his voice shot straight between my legs, and I pressed them together to ease the sudden wave of lust rushing through me.

“I think she liked you calling her that”, Azriel remarked opposite us. Meanwhile, Cassian had begun to claim my mouth and by the Cauldron, his lips were as delicious as I had assumed.

His kiss was slower than the one from Rhys before and I closed my eyes, enjoying their mouths roaming over my body.

“You like me calling you our girl? Well, get used to it because when we are done with you, you’re ruined for all men. You are ours. Just ours.” Rhys sounded behind me, and I felt my panties getting damp again.

Cassian’s tongue entered my mouth and I slightly nibbled on his bottom lip, wanting to tease him a bit for embarrassing me before. He chuckled and embraced my cheek with his hand.

I would have never guessed him to be so gentle. But I was also sure that he could fuck me senseless.

Right in this moment, he bit down on my lip and a moan escaped me.

Meanwhile, Rhys managed to open the back clasp of my dress.  I turned around, wanting to give him some attention as well and met his mouth in a kiss.

“Get her out of this dress. It seems rather distracting”, Azriel’s voice sounded.

The straps of my dress slung down my shoulders and I felt Cassian’s hands pushing them down, revealing my breasts and peaking nipples.

He sharply breathed in. “So beautiful. So perfect, don’t you think, Az?”

Azriel hummed in agreement. From the corner of my eye, I saw him cupping his hard member through his dark jeans.

Cassian continued to help me get rid of the dress, so I broke free of Rhysand’s kiss to quickly lift my ass. The dress finally pooled around my feet, leaving me in just my black lace thong.

“You are exquisite”, Rhysand growled and grabbed my right ass check, pushing me down on his lap.

His hands roamed the front of my body while Cassian kneeled in front of me, spreading kisses on my thighs. Rhys cupped one of breasts and squeezed, slightly pinching my hard nipple. My breath hitched and I arched into his touch.

I could feel him growing harder under my ass. This was blissful torture, and I enjoyed every second of it.

Rhys’ other hand wandered over my stomach and played with the seam of my thong. I whimpered, needing his touch, wanting to be touched.

“You greedy little thing, aren’t you? What do you want?” He teased me.

“I want…you”, I breathed out, moving my hips for some friction on his lap.

“What exactly? Cassian, stop. Say, what do you want?”

Cassian stopped in his tracks and looked up to us.

“I want your fingers fucking me”, I stated.

“Oh, you want my fingers to fuck your greedy pussy?” Rhys pinched my nipple again, this time with more pressure making me cry out. “Cassian, let’s get rid of these panties.”

I spread my legs slightly and Cassian pulled down my thong, leaving me completely bare while the guys were still clothed. Somehow, that turned me on even more. I felt vulnerable and exposed but also safe. I could trust them with my body and pleasure.

“Rhys, she’s even more beautiful down here”, Cassian said while his gaze devoured my glistening sex.

“Mhm. I am sure of that”, Rhys responded while his hand traveled south. “Hell, you are already soaking wet. I bet you feel amazing when I finally push my cock into you. Would you like that?” He asked and pushed a finger into my pussy.

“Yes, I want that”, I whimpered and grinded against his hand, making him chuckle.

Rhys switched up his position and pushed his fingers into my pussy from the side, leaving my clit out in the open. Cassian accepted the invitation and grabbed my legs, hoisting them on Rhys’ knees. His tongue sloppily licked my clit and painted in circles.

“My god, she’s delicious.” He hummed.

There, I was lying, getting finger-fucked by Rhys’ delicate fingers and Cassian devouring my pussy. Over his head, I watched Azriel’s face who was still studying the sight in front of him.

Rhys picked up his pace and grazed my G-spot. My moans were getting louder, and I couldn’t take it any longer. A sensation so strong I could cry was building up inside my stomach.

“I am going to come, oh god, yes don’t stop”, I cried out.

Suddenly, the sensation stopped. Rhys’ fingers had pulled out of my aching pussy and Cassian kneeled inches before me, catching his breath.

“What the?”

“You come when we tell you to. Now stand up”, Rhys ordered me, and I followed suit. “Our friend seems a little lonely over there. Why don’t you give him some of your attention?”

My gaze flicked to Azriel who sat up and reached out his hand. I grasped it and he pulled me onto his lap. My wetness flowed down onto his jeans, but he didn’t seem to mind when he crashed his mouth on mine. I grinded on him, feeling up his already hard cock beneath me.

My god, he was big. The girls always joked around that Azriel was the biggest between the guys, judging from his wingspan. And the rumors seemed to be true.

I needed to see him for myself. Wanted to have him in my mouth, even if it meant choking myself to death.

Hastily, I opened the fly of his trousers and pulled them and his briefs down. His cock sprang free, and I gasped. The sheer size of it wasn’t the surprising bit. Fascinated, I reached out and touched one of the four piercings that spread out along his length. I bet they felt amazing.

“Did they hurt?” I asked.

Azriel shrugged. “I don’t mind the pain.”

I leant forward and enveloped my hand over his hard cock. His eyes fluttered shut and he threw back his head.

“I want your mouth”, he mouthed while I slid my hand up and down his length.

Losing no time, I lowered my mouth onto his cock. It was unusual, sucking a pierced one but it was interesting feeling. Hungrily, I licked my tongue up and down his cock and sucked on his tip. A low moan escaped his lips.

This was so hot. I was so busy sucking Azriel that I didn’t notice Cassian kneeling behind me. Suddenly, his hot tongue licked my pussy from behind and I cried out on Az’s cock.

The vibrations seemed to work wonders for him, so I continued to hum in pleasure while licking my way up and down his delicious member.

“Cassian, I think she seems like she needs a good fucking from behind, don’t you think?” Rhys asked.

I let go of Azriel while still sliding my hand over his cock and turned around to see Cassian standing up from behind me and working on his trousers. He lost the shirt while working on me from behind and was now stepping out of his briefs. That was one beautiful male.

“Don’t worry, babe, we are all clean”, Rhys remarked from the couch, and I nodded in response.

“I am on birth control, and just got back from the doc. All good”, I responded.

Cassian smirked from behind me and suddenly, I felt a large tip tracing circles around my soaking entrance.

“I’ve always wanted to take you bare. Gosh, you feel so amazing”, he rumbled as he pushed slowly inside me.

My back arched in response as I took in the full size of Cassian. He was right, this felt amazing. Intoxicating, even.

I turned back to Azriel and lowered my mouth on his cock again. One hand was propped up on his knee for support while Cassian slowly pounded into me from behind.

When I was sure I wouldn’t lose my balance, my other hand wandered to Az’s balls and I played with them, lightly putting pressure on them. A low rumble sounded from Azriel’s chest.

I loved how responsive the otherwise quiet spymaster was when I played with his cock. It was addictive and I wanted more. More of him. Him inside me, all of them.

Cassian picked up the pace and hit my g-spot, making me see stars. Rhys appeared in the corner of my eyes and kneeled next to me, his hands lazily stroking my breasts and nipples.

“You should see yourself. How you take Cassian’s cock so well and devour Az with your mouth. I have never seen any girl completely sucking him off, but I knew you would. Good girl”, Rhys praised me and leant down to suck on my nipple.

In-between Cassian hitting my g-spot, Rhysand sucking my nipples and the feel of Azriel’s cock in my mouth, the sensation became too much.

I let go of Azriel and cried: “Rhys, I am close. I want to come so badly…”

Rhys looked up and smirked. “Will you ask nicely?”

Oh, that’s how this was going.

“I want to come so badly, please. Please, daddy. Let me come”, I pleaded.

“Guys, what do you say? Does our girl deserve to come already?” He asked and looked at his friends. One pounding into me and the other one getting stroked by my hand.

“Only if she takes our cum. All of it”, Az exclaimed.

“Agreed”, Cassian grunted behind me, his thrusts growing sloppily. He had to be close himself.

“What do you say? You take our cum like a good girl and then you come?”

I nodded eagerly, going back to sucking Az.

It took not much longer until Cassian moaned behind me and thrusted into me hard. After some time, he stopped his movement and I could feel his cum dripping down my thighs, hot and wet. He leant down and spread some lazy kisses on my back.

In front of me, Azriel’s pants grew louder, and his chest was heaving with his quickened breathing.

“Don’t stop, just like that”, he panted.

I could taste the first wave of his salty cum on my tongue, so I let go of his cock and quickly sat on his lap. In an instant, I pushed him inside of me, riding out his orgasm while he spilled his cum into me.

Moments later, Azriel stilled and looked at me completely dumfounded. He reached over and kissed me, probably tasting himself on my tongue.

From my side, a hand pulled me off Azriel’s lap and I protested, not enjoying the sudden emptiness. I was faced with Rhys’ naked body, and I let my gaze roam over him.

They were all way out of my league which was crazy to think when I was right now dripping with the cum of two of them. But Rhys had this regal vibe to him that only being the High Lord of the Night Court brought along.

And the High Lord had watched enough. Now it was his time. Rhys pulled me to him and crooned: “Do you enjoy getting filled up?”

I nodded.

“Good girl. One more and you’re allowed to come.”

My pussy ached at his words, eager to find the sweet release I was chasing that whole time.

Rhys guided me through the room and pushed me chest-first against the cold glass of the window. A shiver went through me, starting with my sensitive nipples.

“See those people dancing downstairs, oblivious to the fact that you are getting fucked by all of us over here. How about we give them a little show? Would you like that? Let them see you getting fucked by the High Lord of the Night Court?” Rhys whispered into my ear.

“Yes”, I breathed against the glass.

“I didn’t quite catch that?”

“Yes, daddy”, I moaned as his hand stroked my swollen clit.

I heard the flick of the switch and then Rhys pressed his hard cock against me, pushing inside me.

My hands land against the glass for support and Rhys pounded into me for the whole club to see. The dancers still seemed oblivious to it.

But just the possibility of someone seeing us, me pressed against the glass with hard nipples getting fucked by Rhysand almost pushed me over the edge.

“Such a good girl, taking all our cocks so well. Let them see what a good girl you are”, Rhys panted behind me and reached in front of me, flicking my clit.

I cried out, it was almost painful to be touched. I needed to come, badly. It all depended on Rhysand who was going steady in a fast and hard rhythm, holding my shoulders back. I lost myself in the blissful feeling of fullness and let go of any control of my body.

Screams and moans escaped me as I felt Rhys spilling himself into me with one final thrust and low grunt. He pulled out of me and grabbed my shoulder to turn me around. By now I was a panting mess, sticky from all the sweat and cum on me. I couldn’t think straight, only one thought on my mind.

Rhys embraced my neck with his hand and crashed his mouth onto mine, like in the beginning of this dreamlike evening.

“You felt amazing. You deserve to come. Let me make you feel good”, he breathed and kneeled in front of me.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. The High Lord kneeling in front of me. Rhys’ gaze locked with mine as his tongue licked between my swollen folds.

I cried out and leant my head against the glass. But I didn’t want to miss the sight of Rhys feasting on me, so I watched in the corner of my eye. His hands grabbed my ass from behind as he pushed his face into my pussy, sucking on my clit and tasting his own cum mixed with his friends’.

This feeling was like no other and in no time, the sensation from before built up in my stomach. But this time, Rhys didn’t stop. Now I knew better though, and asked for his permission:

“Daddy, may I come?”

“Yes, come for us. Come.” He ordered and sucked harder on my clit.

At his command, I came apart and screamed with pleasure under the eager gaze of Cassian and Az.

“Oh god, yes, yes like that” I panted and rode out my climax on Rhys’ tongue.

He pressed a soft kiss on my now sensitive clit and stood, embracing my face with his hand. Cassian flicked the switch for the window next to him, giving us privacy again.

“You were amazing. Are you okay?”

His voice sounded concerned and I nodded, trying to slow my breath to an acceptable pace.

“Good. Now let’s get you dressed. We can prepare a bath at home for you if you like”, he proposed and pressed a soft kiss on my lips.

To my side, Cassian did the same on my shoulder and traced his fingers over my back. Azriel appeared next to Rhys and held up my dress. Helping me get into it, they kept a close watch on me. As if they were concerned that it was all too much for me.

If anything, I cherished the feeling of being filled with their cum, which was dripping down my thighs. I felt safe and loved as Rhys laid an arm over my shoulder and guided me out of the room that smelled like pure sex by now.

“Guys, let’s get our girl home.”

Now, that was something I could get used to.

I hope you enjoyed this short story!

[bobohu4eva]

Hitched (M)

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: arranged marriage au, acquaintances(?) to lovers, smut

Summary: Can great sex make an unwanted marriage less shitty? Yes. Yes it can.

Warnings: explicit unprotected sex, semi public (outdoor) sex, edging, Baekhyun has a Big Dick, alcohol consumption

WC: 9.8k apparently I don't know how to keep things brief anymore!

A/N: The majority of this is extremely self-indulgent smut. Oops? You're welcome? It is (mostly) pretty soft though.

Masterlist

“Smile!” 

The cameras flashed, and you put on a show for your friends and family. Your new husband kissed you, and from the outside, everything seemed perfect. 

The perfect dress, makeup, hair, a rich and handsome groom, and everyone you cared about right there with you, celebrating you and the man who was supposed to be the love of your life. It was a lavish ceremony and even more opulent reception, but you couldn't enjoy it at all. 

There was nothing wrong with him, but you and Baekhyun had never even dated, and you definitely never pictured yourself marrying him. You didn't exactly have any reason to dislike him, you'd known him since you were a kid and he was undoubtedly an attractive guy, but marrying him had been your parents idea, not yours. 

As a kid your family had everything you could've imagined, foreign sports cars, numerous vacation homes, a yacht, nannies, tutors, and the list goes on. Your parents' companies had been doing well, and life was easy. 

But that didn't last forever. Now in your early 20’s, you watched as the fortune your family had built for generations was slipping away. 

You were still a teenager when it started and couldn’t fully comprehend what had happened, but it seemed like some combination of bad investments and unpaid debts. Slowly the vacation homes, yacht, and cars were sold off one by one just to pay the bills. As the years passed it seemed that the walls were starting to close in, but on the surface your family, especially your mother, made sure it didn't seem that way. 

The good family name was pretty much all that was left now, and your mother would do anything she could to keep it strong. 

Growing up with generational wealth, your family always associated with others of similar standing, and one of the families you'd grown up with had been particularly close; the Byuns. 

Their only son, Baekhyun, was someone you'd grown up around, but at seven years older than you, you hardly knew each other. He was the perfect rich kid, smart, handsome, and polite, but you still would've much preferred to marry someone you actually loved, or at least were close with. 

“Y/n, you're doing it again.” He whispered in your ear, and you realized that your smile had once again fallen as you zoned out, and his mother was right there in front of you, looking concerned. 

You perked back up, and saw her face flood with relief. You looked at Baekhyun, and he was still smiling for the pictures as well, but you noticed the slightly apologetic look he shot you. 

You really did try to play the part, for the sake of your families, but it was hard. This was supposed to be one of the happiest days of your life, but instead you were putting on an act, hiding how miserable you felt under the facade of it all. 

The worst part was just how happy both his and your families were. Both moms cried, and even your dad teared up a little. You couldn't even blame them, either. It had been a beautiful ceremony, and you and him both looked the part so perfectly. It was everything a high society wedding should be, and on top of that, it was the only thing saving your family from bankruptcy. 

Once pictures were done with it was time for the first dance- in a gazebo decorated with fairy lights and at least a thousand fresh white roses. All you could think was how incredible this would have been, if it was a real wedding, between two people who actually loved each other. Every beautiful thing was a cruel reminder of how you would never get to experience that for yourself.

Baekhyun did a better job than you, and if you hadn't been so depressed, you might've even gotten flustered a few times. He looked incredibly handsome in his tux, smiling sweetly at you as he led you through the dance, a painfully romantic song filling the spring air. He was the picture perfect groom. 

You so badly wanted to hate him for agreeing to all of it, but knew it was more complicated than that. Despite not knowing him very well, you did know how close knit his family was. If his parents really wanted him to do this, he would have a tough time refusing. 

You were closer with his parents than you had ever been with him, and they adored you. Despite not being related, you almost thought of them like your own aunt and uncle. Baekhyun, on the other hand, was like your mysterious older cousin. He always seemed preoccupied with his studies, or later, his job. You'd been around each other at holidays and various parties throughout the years, but he never felt approachable. 

To act so romantically with him felt unbelievably strange. On top of your disappointment at the whole situation it was also just very awkward. The kissing and touching, the dancing, the “loving” looks you shared, they all made your chest feel tight. Baekhyun was obviously very handsome, but the nature behind all of it still got to you. 

Before the wedding Baekhyun had asked you if you would rather not kiss or touch at all, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but you'd assured him that it was fine. Aside from the parents and those closest to you both, most of the guests had no idea this wedding had been arranged just a few months earlier. If this was going to be believable, you had to make it look real. 

Eventually the dancing ended and the reception began, relieved beyond belief to finally get to have a drink. The champagne made things much easier, and as distant friends and family asked you and your new husband about your love story, you lied with increasing confidence. Baekhyun, too, was leaning into the act more heavily after a few drinks. His arm around you and the way he looked at you made everyone oooh and ahhh, giving them the same story you'd told minutes earlier, about how the two of you realized one day that all of those years you'd been hiding your love for each other, and when you realized that the other felt the same, you couldn't marry quickly enough. 

It was all bullshit of course, but they ate it up, and that was the important thing. You didn't want to think about how embarrassing it would be if an acquaintance or extended family member found out your parents had orchestrated everything. 

Several times people gushed about how lucky the two of you were to have found each other. The bitterness you felt was so intense you hoped dearly that they couldn’t see right through your smile. 

The relief you felt when the guests finally started to clear out, leaving the lavish ballroom for their hotel rooms, was monumental. Eventually the last of them were gone, and since both families insisted, you and Baekhyun retreated to your shared suite. 

Both you and him knew that your families were hoping for a grand baby soon, but that wasn't something you could even consider at the moment. 

“I don't mind sleeping on the couch.” He told you once you were alone with him. 

As nice as the room was, it didn't make sense for him to sleep on the couch. The bed was huge, and the couches weren't long enough for him to fully lay down. You shook your head. 

“Are you sure?” 

You smiled a little at his sweetness, “There's plenty of space for both of us, don't worry about it.” 

And so you and Baekhyun shared the bed on your first night together as husband and wife. You stayed on your side, and he stayed on his, not once touching, even a little. 

It was expected that eventually you and him would buy a house together and live there, but in the meantime, you stayed at that suite together. His parents owned it, and they hoped that living together would help spark something real, not to mention sharing a bed. 

Life after marriage wasn't that different, aside from your living space. You didn't have a job yet, having only graduated college a few months earlier, so you spent much of your time out with friends. As nice as the suite was, it reminded you of your loveless marriage, so you took every chance you could to get away. Baekhyun mostly just worked, keeping to himself, although he always asked you about your day when you’d get home. To his disappointment you kept your responses short. He wanted to try and get to know you better, but you didn't seem interested. 

The truth was, every time you saw him and he tried to talk to you, it made you feel worse. He did absolutely nothing wrong, but he, like the suite, was a painful reminder of your unfortunate fate. The result was you essentially avoiding him, even in your shared space. Baekhyun, however, wasn’t willing to live that way. 

A few weeks passed with hardly any words exchanged between you and him, so he decided to try something different. That evening when you returned to the suite, you were met with a generous dinner spread, the entire room meticulously decorated, and your husband sitting at the center of it all, looking at you bashfully in the candle light.

You were surprised, to say the least. 

He noticed the way you froze up, getting up from the table and taking one hand, guiding you to the table. He pulled out your chair for you, leading you to sit. 

Soon Baekhyun was seated across from you, looking back at you with a slightly unnerving intensity. 

“Why are you doing this?” You asked. 

He took a deep breath, “I want to try to make this work.” 

You raised an eyebrow. 

“I can tell how much you hate being married to me, and I’m sorry. I think we should at least try to make the best of it, though.” 

“Make the best of it?” 

“Well, yes. I mean it could be worse, right? Am I really that bad?” 

You sighed, annoyance taking hold at his nonchalant attitude. “No, Baekhyun, that's not the point, this whole situation just… sucks. Maybe it's stupid but I always thought I'd marry someone I was actually in love with, and it would be one of the best moments of my life. Instead I’m married to someone I barely even know.” 

“I'm sorry, and I know how you feel, I really do. But don't you think we should at least try to get along?” 

After a week of keeping your discontent to yourself, it came bubbling up and you no longer bothered to hide how you felt from him. You let it out, finally letting out what had been plaguing your mind since the wedding.

“Every time I see your face or even this suite for that matter, it makes me feel like shit. I really didn’t want this, and I don’t understand how you seem so unbothered. I mean, are you really not that upset about all this? Why did you agree to it so quickly?” 

“I didn’t have much of a choice either, you know how my parents are. A couple years ago when I still wasn't in a serious relationship of any kind they started floating the idea of setting me up with someone. Your name got mentioned a lot, so I've had more time to come to terms with it, I suppose.”

You scoffed, “So you've known for years that this would happen?” 

“Well, no. It was always just a suggestion, until a few months ago when they told me that they discussed it with your parents and actually wanted to go through with it.” 

Not sure what else to say, you shifted your focus to the plate of food before you, and he did the same. An awkward silence filled the dining room, though you still preferred the silence to his rationalizing of your miserable arrangement. Much to your dismay, however, it wasn’t long until he was again doing just that. 

“A lot of our parents' friends started out like this too, you know. To be fair most of them at least got to date for a while before getting married, but they’re happy now, so why shouldn’t we be able to do the same?”

He wasn’t wrong, this kind of thing wasn’t exactly rare, though you still hadn’t planned to turn out that way yourself. Still, you just stared back at him with a look of annoyance. 

“What I really wanted to talk to you about, the reason I made this dinner for us, I thought maybe, if you would be interested, we could go on a honeymoon. I know that wasn't originally part of the plan, but I think it could be good for us. Anywhere you want to go, I'll make it happen.”

His offer was extremely generous, but still didn’t exactly sound appealing. Being alone with him for days on end wasn’t your idea of fun, you worried that it would even become quite depressing, not to mention awkward. 

“I don't know….” 

“It can be as long or short as you like, and if you decide you hate being around me that much you can come back here anytime. You're my wife now, and I want to be able to make you happy, to make this whole thing work out for us. If there's anything I can do to help us get there, I’ll do it, whatever it takes.” 

When he put it like that, it was hard to argue with him. 

“Anywhere I want? And you’ll really fly me back if I don’t like it?” 

He nodded, “I promise.” 

Though you still had your doubts, you reluctantly agreed. A couple days later you were packing your bags, flying first class to Switzerland, where you'd stay for two weeks at one of his family's vacation homes in the mountains near Lucerne. 

Baekhyun grinned when you told him you wanted to go somewhere with mountains, “excellent choice.” 

The flight had been surprisingly nice. You’d expected that Baekhyun’s family would fly first class, but you were still surprised by just how nice the Swiss airline he’d booked was. You and him essentially had an entire bedroom, and while it was spacious for a plane, that was the closest you’d ever been to him in bed before. Maybe it was just hormones and general touch depravity, but you were all too aware of the way he occasionally brushed up against you as he slept.

When you finally arrived at the house you'd call home for the next couple weeks, walking into the main living area, you understood his excitement at your choice to stay in the mountains. It was nothing short of breathtaking. 

The house itself was beautiful, modern, and impeccably decorated, but you'd seen plenty of nice houses. It was the view that made it so special. The sprawling green valley surrounded by snow capped mountains looked like something out of a fairy tale. 

“My wife has awesome taste.” He said, not missing the way you grimaced, cringing at the word ‘wife’. 

“It still feels super weird hearing you say that.” 

You kept your eyes fixated on the view, and after a moment he was taking your hand and leading you into the master bedroom. Inside on a small table stood a bottle of champagne as well as two glasses, and beyond the sliding glass doors you could see the patio, fit with a hot tub and infinity pool. The king sized bed stood at the center of the room, covered in rose petals. 

You let out a short exhale of a laugh, mostly in disbelief at the sight in front of you. 

“Not bad right?” 

“Oh God, you really are trying to make me fall in love with you. Rose petals and everything…” 

He laughed, shaking his head. “I don't think two weeks is long enough to fall in love, but if you did, that would be great. I guess the staff went a little crazy with the romance since my parents told them this is our honeymoon.” 

He opened the bottle of champagne, pouring each of you a glass and handing one to you. God knows you needed it.

“Cheers.” You clinked the glasses together, each taking a sip. “By the way, I can sleep in one of the other bedrooms, if you'd prefer that. I know the rose petals on the bed are a little much.” 

Maybe it was the alcohol, but it looked like he was blushing ever so slightly as he said it.

Your immediate reaction was relief, that you'd get your own room, but then again that wasn't why you'd traveled all this way together. You were used to sleeping in the same bed with him by now anyway, so you shook your head, hoping you wouldn’t end up regretting it. 

A long sigh passed your lips.“You didn't take me here for us to sit in different rooms all day, we can do that back at home.” 

There was a faint smile on his lips and he nodded, cheeks still a little pink. You both knew what your families were hoping would happen in that bed, and you couldn't help but blush a little as well. For a second you wondered if you and him would ever get that far. He was perfectly fuckable, in theory, but the nature of your arrangement sucked all the excitement out of it for you. 

It was still early in the day, and once the champagne glasses were empty Baekhyun called a car to take the two of you into town. 

“You already seem less bummed out than you've been the last few weeks.” He commented as you headed into the city. 

“Yeah, don’t get me wrong, I’m still sad about everything, but you're right. It's better to at least try to make this work out. I'm trying to be optimistic.” 

He was smiling again, and you couldn't deny how gorgeous the sight of it was. He reached for one of your hands, giving it a light squeeze, holding it for the rest of the car ride, and then again as you walked through the streets together, window shopping.

The city of Lucerne really was like a fairy tale. The old buildings, the crystal blue lake, and the mountains in the distance were the perfectly romantic setting for your time with him. In front of that amazing backdrop, he truly looked like a prince. 

As sad and angry as you'd been the past month, now that your hand was in his, on this beautiful honeymoon, just enjoying the scenery, you couldn’t find the energy to harbor any resentment towards him. Although you still had a lot to learn about each other, you realized you could enjoy his company more than you expected. Either that, or it was just hard to be mad when you were in such a lovely place. 

You'd been walking together in comfortable silence for a while, just appreciating the city, when he told you, “If you see something you like, tell me and we can go inside for you to try it on.”  

As nice as it was, you knew you weren't actually going to go inside any of those shops. They were all high end designer outlets, the kinds of places you hadn't been to since your family was actually doing well. 

Baekhyun saw the way you shook your head, turning your eyes to the pavement in front of you. You felt him abruptly stop, your hand still in his. 

“What?” 

“Now that we're married, you don't need to worry about all of that anymore. Your family wasn't so insistent on you marrying me just so that they could finally pay off their debts, you know. They want a better life for you, too.” 

“Yeah well they have a funny way of showing it.” You mumbled, not even trying to hide the bitterness in your voice. 

“Did you tell them you didn’t want to get married?” 

You scoffed, because of course you didn’t, and he should know that. You gave him a bit of a bitchy side eye and he seemed to get your point. 

“They know I would’ve much rather chosen my husband myself. But I wasn’t really given a choice, just like you.”

He mustered up a surprisingly sympathetic look, sitting you down with him on a nearby bench. 

“I’m not saying this to call you ungrateful, really, but I think we should remember how lucky we are. Because of our parents we got the best educations, grew up in nice homes, get to travel the world, and so on. Money isn't something we'll ever have to worry about. When they asked me to marry you, I didn’t fight them, because I know how much they’ve done for me.” 

You understood perfectly where he was coming from. However, despite it all, you still couldn't deny your disappointment. 

“I know it would've been selfish to refuse, and of course I am grateful to be this fortunate. That doesn't make it feel any less shitty, though. I always had such big dreams for how I would meet the love of my life and get married, and they know that. When they told me I should marry you, they knew it would be heartbreaking for me, they just didn't seem to care. They didn't even want to acknowledge it.” 

“I'm sorry. I can imagine how hard that would be, I want you to know that I don't blame you at all for being upset. I just want to do whatever I can now to hopefully make this better for you.” 

When you didn’t respond his hand was pulling you back up with him, “Come on, there’s a really great ice cream place nearby.” 

He was relieved to finally see you smile again, even though you rolled your eyes at him. “I’m not a little kid, you can’t manipulate me with ice cream.” 

“I’m not manipulating you! I just want to cheer you up.” 

At least the ice cream really was fantastic. 

Eventually you returned to the house, deciding to finish the champagne in the pool together, enjoying the view. You'd seen Baekhyun shirtless in the past, but it had been years, and you couldn't deny how great he looked as he joined you in the water, holding both of your glasses of bubbly. 

The mountain air was chilly on your upper half, and you sunk deeper into the warm water as he handed you your champagne. Steam rose from the water into the cold air creating a wispy fog, the sun barely peeking out from behind the mountains as it set. 

You said cheers, clinking the glasses together, giving Baekhyun a funny look at how intently he insisted on making eye contact before bringing his glass up to meet yours. 

“You know why Germans are so insistent on eye contact when cheersing right?” He asked before taking his first sip. 

“No..?” 

His eyes widened ever so slightly, surprised, to say the least. 

“Oh… uhh, never mind.” 

“No, tell me!” 

This time, he was definitely blushing, “Ok but don't get mad at me! I was joking… I didn't think I'd have to explain it..” 

“So..?” 

He sighed, ready for you to scoff at his lame attempt at flirting with you. “In Germany, it's said that if you don't make eye contact while cheersing with someone, you'll have seven years of bad sex.” 

To his surprise, you actually let out a small laugh, again meeting his eyes and holding his gaze intently as you clinked your glass to his one more time. 

It had to be the atmosphere, both of you barely clothed in your swimsuits, the alcohol, the sunset, and the view of the mountains. That had to be it, that had to be why you were going along with everything he said so easily. Because at the end of the day, you both knew well what he was implying. He was your husband, and you his wife. Unless you both planned on cheating, which to your understanding still wasn’t acceptable despite the nature of the marriage, he would be the only one you'd be having sex with anytime soon. 

You kept slowly sipping on your drink, enjoying the calmness and beauty of the landscape. This time, the silence between him and yourself actually felt comfortable. 

“Do you really think that it's possible for us to eventually be happy, like any other married couple? You know as if we'd actually chosen this for ourselves?” You eventually asked. 

“Yeah, I definitely think it's possible.” 

“You really mean that?” 

He shrugged, and nodded. “I don't want this to sound too forward, but that's part of why I wasn't too upset about the marriage. I would've liked to marry someone I chose myself, just like you, but in our situation I think we still have a good chance at making it work. Even though we've never been particularly close, I feel like I know you fairly well, because of our families. I know that we had similar upbringings, share the same basic values, things like that, and those things really matter in a partnership. You're beautiful too, which definitely helps.”

“Thank you… I've never really thought about it like that.”

‘You’re beautiful.’ Those words had a greater effect on you than you expected.

His eyes had been fixed on the sun setting over the mountains, but slowly he turned back towards you. “Do you find me attractive, at least physically?” 

His sudden question left you dumbfounded. The answer was so obvious but the way he asked you truly didn't sound cocky at all. You had to stop yourself from making a dumb joke considering his abs were currently glistening in the light of the setting sun and his face looked like something out of a magazine. 

“Baekhyun, you know you're a good looking guy.” 

“Well, some women are more into big muscles, or really tall guys, or a more rugged “manly” look. I could still not be your type.” 

You shook your head, feeling the way your cheeks burned, knowing they were probably bright red. You kept your eyes glued on the valley below, avoiding the way you knew he was looking at you. “You definitely are my type, at least when it comes to looks.” 

You expected him to say something cocky and smug but instead he just smiled at you when you finally met his gaze again, seeming genuinely happy and relieved by your answer. 

“I appreciate that.”

It occurred to you then that despite the champagne, his words and eyes on you made you quite shy. He was simply an extremely handsome guy, and you found yourself having to fight the urge to downright ogle him. 

His broad shoulders and strong chest looked so inviting, the water on his skin adding a gorgeous sheen to his entire form. You wanted to touch him, to feel his skin against your own, and know how his slender hands would feel on your body. 

The view of the mountains was nice, but as the minutes flew by, your eyes kept traveling back to him. It didn't go unnoticed, as he felt himself slipping into similar thoughts as well. 

Maybe you really were just that easy to read, but it surprised you nonetheless when he stepped closer, taking your hand in his, before placing it on his chest. 

“Wh-what are you doing?”

Your eyes were stuck to his torso, heart beating rapidly at the knowledge of his eyes gazing down at you, his heartbeat under your hand a comforting reminder of the shared tension. His gentle touch on your chin triggered a small gasp, and he finally guided your face up towards his own where he could look at you, and you at him.

Being so close now, you noticed the scattered moles painting little constellations across his face. Each one appeared to have been placed with purpose, further adding to the near perfect harmony of his stunning features. 

When his eyes shifted downwards ever so slightly, gaze falling to your lips, you stopped breathing. You could smell him, so sweet and inviting, every minute aspect of his presence pulling you in. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

His eyes bore into your own again, and you could feel the magnetism between you both. All you gave him was a small nod, but that was enough, his lips meeting yours. 

This was so different, so much better than when you'd kissed before at your wedding. His chest under your palm felt warm and firm, the taste and smell of him surrounding you, easily letting you melt into him. His lips were soft, and the lack of clothing, the feel of his wet skin against your own, made you shiver despite the hot pool. 

Growing increasingly overwhelmed, you pulled away, red faced and genuinely a little embarrassed to have given into him so quickly. You quickly grabbed your glass and downed the rest of your champagne.

Baekhyun, however, saw right through you. He gave you a knowing smirk, he knew you were still skeptical of him and the marriage, but that didn't mean you weren't attracted to each other. Being half naked in a pool with a view definitely helped set the mood, too. 

“What? There's no reason to get shy now.” 

Still, you turned away from him, bracing both hands on the edge of the pool as you fixed your eyes back onto the mountains and valley below. 

“Hm? What's wrong?” 

His breath on the back of your neck sent a shiver down your spine, surprised by the proximity. Gently, he brushed your hair aside, giving himself access to whisper in your ear. 

“As odd as it might feel to be married, as husband and wife, there's no use in denying that we're attracted to each other.” 

He didn't miss the way you whimpered when his lips gently grazed the sensitive skin just below your ear, turning your head to grant him more access. 

He took that as his sign to continue, leaving a trail of kisses along the side of your neck, his lips growing bolder as the minutes passed. Soon he was sucking and biting at the spot on your neck that made your knees weak, and his hands slowly came to rest on your hips, leaving you every chance to stop him, but you did no such thing. 

Maybe it was just how pent up you were after not having sex for so long, and barely even having an opportunity to touch yourself, but you found yourself squeezing your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the ache that was starting to form between them. 

When one of his hands left your hip, instead coming to your jaw, turning your head to grant him access to kiss you again, you easily let him. The kiss was nothing sweet, desperate and hungry as you both fought for dominance, though Baekhyun quickly took the upper hand, not that you minded. 

“Can I touch you?” He asked the second your lips parted. 

“You are touching me.” 

“That's not what I mean.” 

His hand moved slowly down the front of your body, the soft touch making your head spin, until his delicate fingers began to play with the waistband of your bikini. 

He resumed the movement of his lips on your neck, soon coming to whisper in your ear, “May I?” 

You nodded, breath shaking, and let out a soft moan when his fingers finally pushed beneath the wet fabric. His first touch against your clit sent a jolt through you, and you didn't miss his soft chuckle before pressing his lips against you for the nth time. 

The way he nibbled and sucked at the skin of your neck combined with the soft circles his fingers made on your clit, were nothing short or euphoric. You leaned back into his chest, quiet moans and whimpers filling the air. Being touched like this from behind had always been a big turn on for you. He already made you feel so weak under his touch. 

Baekhyun was obsessed with all of the delicate sounds escaping your lips, sounds that proved how much you were enjoying what he did to you. The more he listened, the more he felt himself grow needy for more.

A breath got stuck in your throat when he pushed his hips forward, letting you feel his hardness against your ass. Even through his swim trunks, you could tell he was big. 

With his cock pressed to your ass and his fingers moving perfectly between your thighs, you were already losing any rationality you’d once possessed. When his other hand untied the knot of your top and began to tease your nipples, you couldn’t bring yourself to worry about how exposed you were, outside in the open. You knew you would be pushed over the edge sooner rather than later if he kept it up, and he did. 

“Are you gonna come for me, baby?” He whispered in your ear, the smirk on his lips apparent in his voice. 

You nodded frantically, warmth bubbling up inside you, turning into a searing heat. 

“Good girl, let go, I got you.” 

His fingertips slipped across your clit just right, one hand pinching and twisting the sensitive nub on your chest. Your whimpers grew into delighted moans, the craving for even more growing almost unbearable. The promise of eventually having his length inside you was what pushed you over the edge, shaking and twitching in Baekhyun's arms as you fell. 

“Fuck.” He whispered into the crook of your neck. “You're really sexy, you know that? Can't wait to be inside you.” 

The combination of his words and breath against your heated skin prolonged your pleasure, nodding to show him just how badly you wanted him, too. 

As soon as his hand withdrew from between your legs you turned towards him, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him into a heated kiss. It was messy, desperate, communicating the urgent need you both felt for more. His tongue greedily licked into your mouth before biting your lip, coaxing another weak moan from you. His hand on your thigh quickly had you wrapping both around him, and the feel of his substantial length and girth against your center, even through your bathing suits, left you panting, desperate for more. 

He put some pressure on you, pushing you against the edge of the pool, letting you feel even more of him. 

“Do you wanna go inside?” He whispered into your ear between kisses, but you didn't have the patience for that. 

You shook your head, “just fuck me right here.” 

His cocky smirk somehow had even more moisture flowing out of you, “as you wish.” 

With that, he undid the string of your bikini, and pushed down his shorts. 

You reached for him, intimidated by the size, hoping you would even be able to handle him. He was hot and hard in your hand, and you felt the telltale throb of his own arousal. 

Anticipation hung thick in the air as he positioned himself, his tip nudging against your clit, and you swore you were about to lose your goddamn mind. 

“You ready?” He questioned with an unexpected softness, forehead resting against your own. 

“Yes.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yes, Baekhyun, please.”

As soon as he pushed forward, however, you understood his desire to double check. His size presented quite the challenge, your eyes squeezing shut at the discomfort of being stretched so much. He could sense how you struggled to take him, hands digging into the skin of his back, legs squeezing involuntarily around his hips.

“Fuck you're so big.” 

“Just relax, I'll go slow. Tell me if it’s too much.” He said before pressing another kiss to your lips. 

You couldn't remember ever feeling so full, and he was still only halfway in. Slow, shallow thrusts carefully let you get used to him, going deeper with every roll of his hips. Soon tears pricked at your eyes, the new sensation of being fucked by such a huge cock leaving you awstruck. 

When he finally fit himself all the way inside of you, his hips meeting your own, you felt his head pressing firmly against your cervix. The slight pain of it heightened the already intense moment even further. 

“Oh my God.” 

He pulled almost all the way out, sinking himself all the way back inside, and you swore he had to have the best cock you’d ever fucked, by a mile. Any unpleasant thoughts surrounding your marriage to him were long gone as he set a steady rhythm, each thrust pulling gasps of pleasure from you. 

The water splashed wildly around you but you might as well have forgotten it was even there, too overcome with Baekhyun’s length as it pleased you in ways you never knew possible. The way he filled you so completely was unlike anything you’d experienced with another man, blissed out by his incredible size and precise thrusts. 

“You’re so perfect, take me so fucking well.” 

His lips crashed into yours, hot and greedy as you moaned into one another. You were certain you’d never felt anyone that deep inside you before, and it was addictive. 

“Think you can handle more?” He muttered, now that you’d gotten fully acclimated to his substantial length and girth. 

You nodded, greedy for anything and everything he could give, and Baekhyun wasn’t going to deny you. 

His lips swallowed more moans and cries of delight as he picked up the pace, thrusting harder, faster, feeling you clench down on him as you got closer to your release. 

Every time he sunk into you completely, he felt your body tremble in response to the intense sensations. As much as you wanted to keep your eyes open to look at him, you simply couldn't. The force with which he pounded you and how deep he reached left you an incoherent mess. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, desperate whimpers and whines leaving your parted lips. 

“Will my beautiful wife let me feel her cum on my cock? Hm?” 

Frantically, you nodded. With only a few more pumps into your dripping core he made you cum, so hard that you just about forgot your own name. 

Baekhyun let out a deep groan at how tightly you squeezed him when you came, the pulsating of your orgasming pussy bringing him to his peak soon after. His hips fell out of pace, eventually slowing to a stop as he emptied his cum deep inside.

It wasn't until you slowly started drifting back to reality that you realized you were still outside in the pool with him. 

You continued to cling to him, feeling him gradually soften and slip out of you. When his eyes found your own you both stared, panting, basking in the afterglow. 

You finally stood back on your own two feet, leaned back against the edge of the pool, and couldn’t fight the fit of laughter that came over you. 

Baekhyun stared at you, confused, unnerved, and slightly bewildered at your sudden outburst. 

“Jesus fucking Christ Byun! That might be the best sex I’ve ever had. No, it definitely was. I can’t believe you...” 

A relieved sigh escaped him, grinning at your admission. “Go on. I’d love to hear all your thoughts.” 

“Oh shut up you don’t need any more ego stroking with a dick like that.” 

He leaned in closer, bracing both hands on the edge of the pool at your sides. “Well you’ll be happy to know that this dick is all yours, till death do us part.” 

A genuine smile graced your lips, and this time as you looked at him, your new husband, you actually felt a little excited for what your future with him could hold. 

You leaned in, giving him a quick kiss. “It's only day one and you already succeeded at seducing me. I have to admit I feel a little pathetic.” 

“I didn’t seduce you.” 

“Oh yes you did! You got me half naked and drunk and started kissing my neck. That has to count.” 

“You only had one glass of champagne and we're in a pool, what else would we wear?!” 

You rolled your eyes. “Okay fine, but you still seduced me. Not that I mind, that was fucking incredible. I hope no one saw us, though.” 

Baekhyun just shrugged. “I doubt it, but if they did, we put on a pretty good show.” he smirked. 

“You’re unbelievable.” You laughed, enjoying the way he admired you. 

“I asked if you wanted to go inside, but someone was too impatient.” 

“You’re awful cocky, you know that?” 

Again, he shrugged, moving away from you to find his glass of champagne. He finished it, and since it was getting late, you both finally decided to get to bed. This time, the rose petals just made you giggle. Once you'd both settled in, you even found yourself inching closer to him, until one of his arms pulled you closer, wrapping around you. It was easy to fall asleep like that, in his embrace. 

~

The first night in a new bed was usually pretty rough, and the jet lag didn’t help. When you awoke in the early morning, you knew you wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep. 

Baekhyun had detached himself from you at some point during the night, the blanket bunching up around his waist. He seemed to still be resting peacefully, and you shamelessly enjoyed the view of his bare chest and sleeping face. Everything about him was just so gorgeous, it didn’t really make sense to you how you’d ended up with him like this. You’d been so pissed about the marriage for so long, but now a small smile crept to your lips as you watched him, his chest slowly rising and falling with every breath. 

You turned to fully face him, shifting around for a bit before settling into a comfortable position. From that point of view you could enjoy the profile of his face as he slept, taken with the seemingly perfect outlines of his jaw, nose, and lips. 

Minutes passed, dragging on painfully slow, and the sight in front of you definitely didn't help you get back to sleep. Images from your time in the pool with him kept resurfacing, along with the memory of how incredible he'd made you feel. You couldn’t understand how you hadn’t always wanted to touch him, even when he was more of a stranger to you. He was way too attractive to just ignore, you thought. Every cell in your body seemed to gravitate towards him, now that touching him was allowed, and even welcomed, holding yourself back was nearly torturous. 

You and him could nap during the day. Right now, you needed him to wake up. 

Carefully, you moved closer, molding your body to his, leaning in to press your lips to his neck. He stirred a bit, but didn’t wake up, so you went on to plant more kisses, moving down towards his chest. When you gently sucked on his collarbone, his eyes finally fluttered open. 

Much to your delight, he didn’t question your actions, or why you’d woken him up. He just took hold of your waist, pulling you on top of him, and into a kiss. You ended up straddling him, lips still locked as they moved together lazily. 

“Goodmorning,” He hummed, looking around at the dark bedroom. “Awake already? What time is it?” 

“Four? Five? I don't know.” 

“Why'd you wake me up?” He half groaned, half whined, voice rough due to the early hour. 

Instead of replying, you just kissed him again, kissing down to his jaw, then neck, moving your hips a little to make your intentions clear. 

“Ready for round two? Already?” 

“Shut up.” 

He chuckled, “Why don't you make me?”

You moved to bring your lips to his once more, but he stopped you, one finger pressing to your lips before they could make contact. You pouted.

“I have an even better idea.”

“Oh yeah?” 

A mischievous grin lifted his cheeks so prettily. 

“Sit on my face.” 

You froze, “Huh?” 

“You heard me. C’mere” 

He hoisted you up, eliciting a small shriek from you, but you didn’t let him take you all the way up the bed, instead settling atop in chest. 

“Are you serious?”

“Hmm I’m a hungry boy. Now come here.” 

His hands on your ass attempted to push you further up towards his face, but you stayed put. 

“I still have underwear on, dummy.” 

He looked down, narrowing his eyes when he spotted the lace that was, in fact, covering you. 

“Do you like this pair?” 

“Kinda? They’re a little old I guess, why do you-” 

Before you could finish his hands were taking hold of the flimsy fabric, easily ripping it and tossing it to the side. 

“Baekhyun! Are you out of your mind? Why-” 

He cut you off again, hoisting you up by your ass till your thighs were on either side of his head. 

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll buy you new ones.” 

With that his arms circled your thighs, pulling you down, until your center met his hot tongue. 

You inhaled sharply, bracing your hands against the wall as he licked and prodded at your clit. It was soft, teasing, wanting to warm you up before showing you what he was really capable of. When you would start to whine and plead for more, he would pull away entirely, instead leaving kisses on your inner thighs, letting the anticipation grow until it was nearly unbearable. 

Until then you'd still been hovering, not wanting to smother him, but when you once again began to whimper and ask for more, he told you, “I’ll give you what you want if you just sit.” 

“But-” 

Without giving you a chance to protest his strong arms, still wrapped around your thighs, yanked you down roughly. At last you got the kind of pressure you needed, putting some weight on him, no longer caring if he could breathe or not. His hums of pleasure made it clear that either way, he was enjoying this as much as you were. 

He lapped at your clit with greed, happily drinking you in. Every gasp, sigh, and groan he drew from you egged him on, eagerly awaiting your release, wanting nothing more than the taste of your delight flooding his tongue. When he transitioned from mere licking to sucking your bud past his lips, he felt your thighs shake, gripping them so tightly you almost wondered if it could bruise. In your ecstasy, however, there was no place for such thoughts. You were too preoccupied with your building orgasm. 

His fingers earlier in the pool had been fantastic, but his tongue and lips were on a whole new level entirely. The way the warm muscle flicked at your most sensitive spot was absolutely perfect, and when combined with the suction of his lips, you almost couldn’t handle it. He could tell you were getting close when you began to rock your hips against his tongue, silently begging for even more, and he was eager to deliver. 

He picked up the pace, suckling harder, licking faster, and he reveled in the increased volume of your moans as you got lost in it. When the moans were silenced, replaced instead with sharp gasps, he knew you were on the precipice. He didn’t falter, if anything, he gave you even more. 

Seconds later you fell apart, twitching and shaking while he still didn’t stop, the sensation flooding your body with relief and joy until it slowly became too much. Baekhyun still had a firm hold of your thighs, and he moaned with delight at the taste of your orgasm on his tongue. He kept lapping at your tired pussy, not wanting to let a single drop go to waste, until you basically begged him for a break. 

When his hold on your thighs finally weakened, you sat back, your ass landing on his chest eliciting a grunt from him. You looked down at your husband's face and he was beaming, lips and chin still wet with your arousal. You grinned right back, watching as he wiped his face with the back of his hand. 

Again, all you could do was laugh, and this time he happily joined you. 

“You know, I really hadn't expected all of this to happen on our first night here.” You told him. 

“Neither did I.”

He was still smiling up at you, now just watching, admiring you, and when he still didn't look away after several seconds had passed you started to feel shy. 

You rolled off of him, one arm covering your eyes as you basked in the unexpected comfort of the moment. Eventually you felt him move your arm away and his face was hovering above your own, slowly moving closer until he was kissing you. It was slow, relaxed, just enjoying the closeness as you gradually recovered from the heated moment. 

You felt him shift, realizing that he was adjusting himself beneath his silk pajama pants, and your hand followed. His eyes fluttered shut when you palmed him, and he took the hint, discarding the shirt you still wore before stripping himself. 

Wet lips met the sensitive skin of your neck as he positioned himself between your thighs, the heat and weight of him above you somehow making your heart race even more. His fingers entered you first, stretching you out to get you ready to take him. He started with two, soon adding a third as he leaned up slightly, watching your flushed form squirm and whimper beneath him. It was a sight that didn’t help his patience one bit, throbbing as he thought about getting to be inside you again so soon. 

It wasn’t long until Baekhyun assumed you were ready, that or he just didn’t want to wait any longer. Both of his hands found yours, lacing them together and pressing them to the bed above your head. His eyes were on yours, dark with lust as you felt him push inside, the stretch again making you wince, though you easily powered through, too enticed by what was to come to even consider stopping him. He rocked into you, getting deeper with each push, until he was burying himself into you entirely with each roll of his hips. 

This time, he was slower, savoring the way your tight walls hugged him, in contrast to the frenzied passion of the evening prior. You sighed gratefully each time he hit that spot inside you, appreciating the unhurried pace he set as he continued to thrust. Your previous orgasm left you especially sensitive, and you seemed to be floating on a cloud of pure bliss while he steadily fucked you, the euphoria of it reaching even greater hights than before. 

His size was one thing, but Baekhyun was also just good. He knew how to angle himself to make you feel just right, keeping a steady pace to allow the pleasure to build. 

“You feel amazing, so tight and wet for me.” He whispered into your ear, and your knuckles paled with how hard you gripped his hands. 

Normally faster, rougher sex was what you preferred, but now, with him, you couldn’t help but think that this slower, more relaxed approach was even better. Maybe it was because it was so early, and you were still a little tired, but this felt nothing short of perfect. Baekhyun was taking care of you so well, listening to your body, and giving exactly what you needed. 

Your orgasm was getting close again, warmth growing into a burning heat in the pit of your stomach, but as soon as you started to clench around him, about to let go, he pulled out. 

He chuckled softly at the way you whined in protest, but assured you, “Just trust me, this will be even better.” 

He stood on his knees and straddled one of your thighs, bringing the other leg over his shoulder before pushing back in. With the same leisurely pace from earlier he continued on, the new angle making you feel him even deeper. 

When you started to whimper and ask for him to go faster, he just shushed you, pushing his hips into you slower, but harder, leaving you with little room to protest. Either way, it was divine, and you knew he’d easily get you there in the end. After a while you decide that whatever he had in mind, you would happily accept it. He made you feel so damn good, you trusted him to take you however he saw fit. 

His thrusts were steady, letting you chase your orgasm, but when you started to get close he pulled out again, leaving you shaking and whining and clenching around nothing. 

One hand came to rest on your cheek and his forehead met your own, prompting you to open your eyes and meet his. He stared for a second before pressing a quick kiss to your lips and whispering, “Turn around for me baby.” 

You obliged, rolling onto your stomach, and you felt him straddle you, leaning down to leave a trail of kisses along your shoulder. Without any warning he filled you once again, and this time when he bottomed out, the increased pressure against your cervix made your stomach tighten, the pain almost too much for you. 

His moans and grunts made it clear that he, too, felt the added pressure, making sure not to press too hard, to be gentle as he continued working his way in and out, his eyes fixed to the view of your ass and his length plunging in and out of you. Every time he sank himself inside completely he felt the way his tip would reach the bottom, savoring the feeling while doing his best to not hurt you in any real way. 

Little did he know, you enjoyed the intensity of it, and your high was approaching even quicker than before. He’d been edging you for so long, all you cared about was getting your release. He could’ve fucked you as fast and hard as he wanted and the pain still wouldn’t have stopped you from cumming all over his length. 

But Baekhyun was cautious nonetheless, filling you in the same relaxed manner, wanting you to feel as good as possible, to prolong your pleasure, without bringing it to an end just yet. He, too, was enjoying himself far too much to rush this. 

However he soon felt the same tell-tale throb that your orgasm was quickly approaching, so he pulled out once again. 

Once he’d turned you over, settling back between your thighs, he took in your fucked out expression, eyes softening at just how desperate you looked. 

“Does my baby want to cum?” 

You nodded, frantic. “Please, Baekhyun.” 

He placed a tender kiss to your lips, then your forehead, before pushing forwards to fill you up. This time as he kept moving you could feel the difference, and you knew he was getting close to his own release. His thrusts were less consistent, and he became shaky, gasping and moaning more freely than before. 

For you it came as a relief, knowing that it wouldn’t be long until you finally got your long awaited high. You weren’t sure how much more you could take, more than ready for him to finally just fuck you through your orgasm, and let you feel his release, too. 

The push and stretch of his length inside you, the angle of it, and his entirety surrounding you, the heat and weight and smell of him, they all became too much. When he finally let you reach your peak it was strong, blinding you and making your skin tingle with the intensity. Every time he’d denied you he’d built the tension to such a degree that when it was finally released, it was otherworldly. Broken versions of his name passed your lips, though you weren’t conscious of it, the wave of pleasure leaving no room for coherent thought, only gratitude for the incredible feeling after having been deprived. 

He didn’t stop when he felt the obvious pulsating and twitching of your orgasm, he continued to chase his own high, which came soon after. He’d been holding himself back, so when it finally hit him, the burst of euphoria was explosive. As he shuddered apart his lips crashed into yours, hungry and rough as they sought greater contact, something to communicate how much it affected him. 

The kisses became more relaxed as you both slowly drifted back to reality, until he finally collapsed on top of you, burying himself in the crook of your neck. Gently kisses were peppered across your skin, each one paired with some sweet words, “So beautiful, so perfect, so good for me.” 

After some time his weight above you lost its charm, turning sweaty and uncomfortable prompting him to roll off you, though you still desired some contact. Your head rested atop his chest, and the feeling of his hand on your waist was a welcome comfort. 

Something about this just felt right to you. Your marriage to him, now, came as more of a relief than anything else. You knew that after having him, nobody else would ever be able to compare. As sure as you’d been that the jet lag would keep you up until daylight, his embrace ended up luring you into a peaceful sleep in mere minutes. 

As it turned out, your honeymoon ended up being a beautiful experience full of gorgeous scenery, plentiful laughter, and amazing sex. Most days were spent strolling through town, enjoying the spa and pool at the house, and in bed with your new husband. 

He was fun, maybe a little cocky, but you couldn't blame him for that, everything considered. At the end of the day, he was always sweet to you, and never acted truly arrogant in any way. Confident, that was how you would describe him, and that confidence came as a comfort for you. He was confident in himself, yes, but he also showed a lot of confidence and optimism towards his relationship with you. 

The initial awkwardness disappeared completely after your encounter in the pool. The sex had been great, but more importantly, it brought your guard down. You quickly became far more comfortable around him, and as the days passed, he started to feel like a genuine friend. A friend, who also gave you the best sex of your life. 

While it may have still been early in the relationship, by the time you were flying back home with him, you felt confident, too. 

You'd make it work with Baekhyun, your new husband. 

[murdrdocs]

thinking thoughts about isaac lahey……. just imagine being his friend before he got turned into a werewolf….. and then he shows up one day, and you can barely recognize him with his new bitchy attitude. and you’ve always been the sweet, shy little wallflower and now your best friend is suddenly a far cry from whom he used to be…. getting all weirdly jealous when other guys try to partner up with you, and being mean whenever boys like scott mccall try to approach you……….

hm.

you’re just sitting in the library minding your business before your next lecture. isaac was supposed to meet you there. he was supposed to listen to you run down the last lecture, one he missed for reasons he has yet to make you privy too. but he hasn’t shown, leaving you alone at a table for two, staring straight ahead at a spot that is unexpectedly filled by scott mccall not even a minute later.

he smiles at you, that charming and boyish smile that always seems to open doors for him even against all odds. it’s instinctive whenever you smile back.

he begins talking to you, small talk that is clearly designed to gear up to his main cause. you’re sitting, obliging, waiting. and just when he begins to get to his main point, a presence joins you at the table.

your eyes lift, they squint with a smile when you see isaac, and then they squint with curiosity when you notice isaac glaring down at scott.

“get up,” he tells him. you’re quick to notice his tone—heavy and mean. it doesn’t take a genius or a best friend of his to notice, as scott’s confusion makes it clear that he has realized it too.

“we’re just talking, isaac. i was looking for you actually.” scott’s defense is sincere. it’s innocent.

but isaac scoffs. he turns to you, his eyes dark with something you haven’t necessarily seen before. yet, distantly it reminds you of the way he’d looked at the guy who lives on your hall whenever he asked you a simple question. or the way he looked at the guy passing out flyers on campus earlier this week. the only difference is subtle. before, isaac just seemed a little annoyed, maybe slightly pissed. now, he seems angry to the point of action.

“do you want him here?” his question comes off as rhetorical, but you still open your mouth to respond. unsurprisingly, isaac doesn’t give you a chance before he’s turning back to scott with an answer of his own.

“we don’t want you here.”

(you try to ignore how linking you two as a unit makes you feel. we.)

scott looks between you and isaac, lost on what his next move should be. you’re equally as lost. isaac has always had a temper, and it’s always been a little difficult to talk him down. now, you know it would be nearly impossible. he needs to work this out of his system on his own.

thankfully, scott seems to sense this too. he pushes his chair back and stands, looking at you apologetically.

“i’ll see you later?”

he’s not even a step away before isaac answers for you. “you won’t.”

and when he sits down, nearly all of his previous anger is gone and replaced by the gentle sincerity you’re used to him having towards you.

[tossawary]

None of the Transformers cartoons that I've seen so far (G1, Beast Wars, TFA, most of TFP, some of the live-action movies years ago) have brought up the fact that the Cybertronians have to be offering humans the English translations of their original names / designations. (I assume one of the comics has explored something like this at some point?) I have generally assumed that Cybertronian languages are probably utterly unpronounceable by human vocal chords and possibly also going at at least 10x speed or something.

I think it would be fun to write a fic for pretty much any continuity in which the Autobots begin their time on Earth choosing their "Earth names". Some Cybertronians may have VERY different designations and designation styles in their own languages, depending on their origins, AND THEN based on their individual personalities, they may choose a very literal translation of their original designation, a more artistic interpretation of their designation, a translation of a nickname, or they might straight-up take the opportunity to choose something entirely new. Or have their new human friends choose for them!

Which is all very cute and has the potential to be heartfelt and bittersweet! And then I started thinking about Earth names for Decepticons, which is VERY FUNNY to me, in part because I don't think every version of Megatron would care to introduce himself to Earth. Humans aren't worth talking to. In which case, when the humans ask for information on which Decepticon is which, the AUTOBOTS are probably the ones who first have to come up with Earth names for the Decepticons.

Like, can you imagine Starscream, 1-3 months or so into being on Earth, turning towards the humans to gloat about how he's going to rule this planet, going into a long introduction with an extremely lengthy and flowery interpretation of what he thinks humans should call him? ("Your Glorious Celestial Majesty" or something at the shortest.) Only for Optimus Prime or someone to say semi-apologetically: "We've already told them that an acceptable translation of your name is 'Starscream'."

Starscream: "WHAT."

Optimus Prime: "YOU weren't talking to them before. We had to call you something besides 'the red and blue plane'."

[saladoffruitcolored]

Yandere platonic omega father x neglected child reader pt3

Every change is difficult, every new beginning is difficult, to begin healing you first need to acknowledge the wound

Or at least that's what the new psychologist said

You couldn't share the understanding of the phrase, for you to recognize the wound would only make everything more real and more tangible, if you continued to ignore it you wouldn't need to recognize the damage it did to you, you wouldn't have to recognize the invisible wounds that ran through your thoughts controlling your actions despite your best attempts to fight the impulse

The saying went "out of sight, out of mind" and it was through this saying that you wanted to live, who cares what the psychologist or your father say, if you don't face the wounds you won't have to face the truth of how little you matter to that person

Even though the wound was slowly eating away at you like an infection, you didn't want to start treatment for fear of how painful the healing would be

After that day, everything and nothing changed. You finally understood that the love of that man would never be yours again (was it ever even yours?), even though you now understand this truth, it's still an agonizing discovery

In fact, deep down, you already knew the truth. You already understood why he never visited you, why your alpha daddy always tried to make up for his lack of presence in your important moments. Secretly, you noticed the look and the frantic attempts to call that man in an attempt to make him appear.

And then the apologetic and sad looks he would give you when he didn't show up, you always noticed but your childish mind still had hope that everything would work out, that the three of you would be a happy family again (you could even imagine yourself having a decent relationship with the twins even if jealousy internally consumed you)

Having your rose-colored glasses ripped from your eyes so abruptly revealing such a cruel reality left after-effects, not really, the after-effects were already there before but you were doing your best not to acknowledge them but now without a silly hope to hide behind you are faced with your greatest insecurities and fears with nothing to hide behind

Just you and them alone in your mind

Each therapy session is meant to help the patient heal but no matter how many sessions your alpha daddy pays for you it just seems like healing is out of reach

It's like pouring alcohol on an open wound, a throbbing, hot wound in the worst possible way, it burns SO MUCH you can barely breathe, like you can't focus on anything but the burning

Your daddy is worried and you can barely care, he tries his best to cheer you up but the only feeling you can muster is guilt, a heavy guilt that builds up in the pit of your stomach

Guilt for having to make him work so much, guilt for being so aggressive the last few days, guilt for all the times you made him humiliate himself on the phone begging him to come to one of your events, guilt for barely leaving the room, guilt for being such a burden

If...if you had never been born, would your daddy's life be better? He wouldn't have to work and maybe he'd still be happily married, because it was your fault...right?

If you were an omega nothing would have gone wrong, you were born with the wrong gender and ruined everything

Is that what he's thinking? Does your daddy regret having you the same way he does? Because of course he must regret it because why else would he just erase you from his memory and his life, leaving everything behind to go after a new beginning

The slightly frantic knocking on the other side of your bedroom door was what took you out of your thoughts

"Honey, are you awake? Please listen to me, I know you're not hungry, but please eat some. It's been two days since you opened the door. Please... for me.” As he spoke, his voice lowered and again you felt guilty, heavier than the hunger that had been building up in your belly for the last few days

Your alpha daddy already worked so hard to give you everything you wanted, he was always by your side even though you were a burden, even now you were unintentionally making him suffer by making him beg you to eat something

“I know you want to spend some time alone but I'm worried, I haven't heard your voice in days, please come out of your room I'll do anything, do you want a new cell phone? A new outfit?” the desperation seemed to become more apparent with each word

“If you eat I will give you anything you ask for, really you don’t even have to eat my food, if you want we can buy something from your favorite restaurant... please answer... I... I will leave the food here at least try to take a small bite pup”

Hearing your alpha daddy’s footsteps walking away was bittersweet, you wanted to be alone as much as you wanted company

You didn’t want to worry him, you didn’t want to be a burden but somehow dragging yourself out of bed these past few days felt impossible

It was like dark, invisible tentacles dragged you to bed whenever you tried to leave, a cold darkness that circled your head scattering your motivations the same way a violent storm would tear apart a field of roses

Despite your mind disagreeing, you forced yourself to get out of bed. During the last few days, you had spent a lot of your sadness and now that you had cleared your mind a little, all that was left was anger.

Why should YOU be the one who SUFFERS!? WHY should YOUR feelings be trampled on to preserve the twins'!? WHY were THEY treated with kindness that YOU HAVE NEVER FELT BEFORE!?

It's not fair, it's not fair, it's NOT fair, it's NOT fair, it's NOT FAIR, IT'S NOT FAIR! IT'S NOT FAIR!IT'S NOT FAIR!!IT'S NOT FAIR!!!IT'S NOT FAIR!!!! IT'S NOT FAIR!!!!!!

IT'S NOT FAIR

That man hurt you in a way you never expected to be hurt, if he didn't love you he should have told you and not let you nurture dreams and hopes that would be shattered insensibly before your eyes

In a burst of energy you got up from the bed and in a fit of rage threw the closest thing to you on the floor, it was a stuffed animal, his last gift to you

You bend down and pick it up, this was a stuffed animal he made for you by hand during his pregnancy, you always clung to this film looking for love (especially after he left)

Now panting you look at your reflection in the mirror, the child with happy and hopeful eyes waiting for the father that was previously reflected in the mirror is gone now the image that looks back at you is a disillusioned child at the beginning of adolescence troubled

Your hair, which used to be tidy, is now tangled, whether your eyes are red from crying or from lack of sleep you can't tell, you're now a little thinner and paler from the days you refused to eat

But the biggest and most glaring difference is your gaze, now it contains enough anger and fire to burn the world, your entire expression is frowned in an emotion you had never felt before

HATE

The problem is not you, the problem is HIM, it was HIM who left, it was HIM who ruined everything so why should you be the one who is suffering?

You finally came to a decision of what you would do next, you would make HIM suffer, HE would regret the day he abandoned you as if you were nothing more than a cheap garment

His and his family's happiness was built from your tears of sadness, why should you be the one who SUFFERS while THEY rejoice!?

for being the reason for your tears and for being the reason for your sadness you would never, neVER, NEVER FORGIVE HIM AND HIS FAMILY

You would become the BEST, you would RISE higher than HE ever thought you could reach and then you would make it very clear to everyone that EVERYTHING you ACHIEVED was without HIS HELP, this would be your personal revenge, to show HIM exactly what he lost

You could almost imagine the expression he would make when he saw that he bet on the wrong horses

You would humiliate him, make him suffer, look down on HIM and spit in HIS face and most importantly you would NEVER open your heart to anyone else again

Since the divorce he has not shown that you were part of his family, if you were not part of his family then he would not be part of yours, from today on he was no longer your FATHER

You would build a barrier around yourself making it impossible for any OMEGA person to come near you, none of these creatures would hurt you again, they are not trustworthy, they never are and they never will be

The only person you need to trust is yourself and your alpha daddy

With one last look at the mirror you let out the breath you didn't even realize you were holding and looked at the plush, this would be the last symbolic bond you would have with HIM, after one last look at the symbol of innocence from your childhood you grabbed the sides of the plush and pulled

The stitches came undone, the fabric tore and the cotton fell to the floor. You decided that you would burn the rest of the doll, but for now, just tearing it up would bring you satisfaction.

You will block HIS contact, delete HIS number. If HE doesn't want to be your mother, that's fine. You don't want him in your life either.

You finally realized that sometimes, to save your body, you need to cut off the rotten limb. You will be a new you tomorrow.

But first, you better start eating something. Tomorrow will be a new beginning and you will need strength to start tracing your new beginning.

And to achieve your new goal, you are willing to do ANYTHING. It doesn't matter who you have to step on, who you have to hurt. To protect your fragile heart, you are now willing to do ANYTHING. If necessary, you will burn the world just to feel warm again.

[aurorawritestoescape]

GET A TASTE

Ex Joel Miller x f!reader x bf Dave York || 880 words

Drabble for Table for Three series || can be read alone

Summary: the three of you have some ice cream fun

Tw: 18+, smut, food play, horny reader, mfm vibes, not specified age gap, dom/sub dynamic, daddy kink, praise kink, light degradation, voyeurism, f!masturbation, being naughty in public (not caught), cum eating, pet names (baby, kitten, babygirl, sweetheart). Pics are for the mood only, reader wears a dress, but has no specific physical descriptions.

A/n: thank you to @survivingandenduring for the ice cream socializer ask, which inspired this drabble😘 I’m so horny for these two it’s ridiculous. Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💕 Love you all❤️

Table for Three || Who’s your Daddy? || MASTERLIST

You’re sitting on Dave’s lap in a little outdoor cafe. It’s pretty empty and you wish they could play with you right then and there, like they’ve done before. Joel’s manspreading on the chair next to you, smirking at the way you squirm on top of your boyfriend’s thighs. But how can you sit still when his huge cock is right under the place you need him the most? You feel your naked pussy get wet and fear you’re going to soak through your thin summer dress.

Joel’s smug face mocks your need and you scoff, glancing into his ice cream bowl that he’s ordered,

“Chocolate, pff, boring.” You roll your eyes and add, “You should try something new once in a while, Joel.”

“I tend to enjoy things I always loved.” His voice, calm and gruff, makes your pussy throb, and you avert your eyes under his intense stare.

“Kitten, put your claws away,” Dave tells you with a smile but Joel knows you’re trying to rile him up.

“It’s ok, Dave. I love a little bit of scratchin’. She used to do a lot on my back when I was giving it to her good.”

“Or I was just trying to make you lift all your suffocating weight off me,” you retort, pouting your lips. You’re horny and hot and want them to finally fuck you.

Joel chuckles, shaking his head, and Dave sighs, his hot breath fanning your neck. You turn your face to him and peck his cheek with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, daddy, I’ll be good now.”

“I know you will, baby.”

You turn back to Joel and see him take a spoonful of the ice cream and shove it in his mouth. He swallows the treat and then slowly licks the spoon clean, not taking his eyes off you. You’re mesmerized by his tongue gliding over the shiny metal. You imagine his sweet lips on your body, his wet tongue sliding between your folds and suddenly the air gets too stuffy around you, Dave’s body is too hot against yours and you take a few deep breaths, trying to calm down.

Joel narrows his piercing eyes and asks, “Got too hot for you, sweetheart?” He motions at the cold treat and adds, “want to cool off?”

“I have mine,” you look at the pistachio flavored dessert on the table in front of you — Dave’s favorite.

“C’mon, babygirl, just a lick,” Joel tempts you, “Good old chocolate ice cream.”

You lick your lower lip before biting it, and turn to Dave, searching for his reaction. Dave rubs your bare thigh with his big hand and says,

“Go ahead, kitten, you deserve a treat.”

He bucks his hips and your whole body rises up and you feel him big and stiff under your ass cheek.

“Fuck,” you curse under your breath, feeling yourself gush more. Then you look back at Joel whose dark gaze makes you burn up even more.

You expect him to feed you his ice cream with a spoon but instead he slides his index finger through the dessert, scoops some and brings it to your lips.

You have no time to think as it’s about to drip on your pretty dress so you hastily wrap your lips around his thick digit. It tastes amazing and you close your eyes with a moan, while your tongue is swirling around his finger, gathering all the ice cream off his skin.

“Someone’s hungry,” you hear Dave smirk and your pussy aches with need as the men laugh.

“Lick it all off, sweetheart, I don't want my hand to be all sticky.”

“Yes, kitten, suck on it better,” your boyfriend encourages you.

Then they both watch your tongue and lips dance around Joel’s finger, as you revel in the taste of the chocolate and your ex’s skin. You’re loudly slurping and whimpering with pleasure.

“Good girl,” Joel praises you, slowly moving his digit back and forth between your lips.

Suddenly you gasp, when Dave's hand slithers under your dress and he finds your wet and bare cunt under there.

“My perfect little slut,” Dave groans against your neck as his fingers dip between your folds and he begins stroking your clit.

Joel pulls your dress up slightly, so he could see your pussy and then pulls his finger out of your eager mouth. You whine but in a moment your ex covers your mouth with his and kisses you, tasting the chocolatey sweetness off your tongue.

Dave gently nibbles on your shoulder, twirling your clit, and soon you come as Joel swallows your moans and your boyfriend prolongs your orgasm, rubbing your pulsating clit with his fingers.

When your climax passes, you part from Joel and Dave’s hand leaves your drenched pussy. With half lidded eyes you watch him lick your juices off his fingers.

Joel palms his huge bulge and asks you, “by the way, what’s your favorite flavour, babygirl?”

“Pistachio,” you reply, giving Dave a soft smile. Then you look back at Joel, your eyes glinting with mischief, and add, “But sometimes I crave chocolate.”

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic💖🌸

Table for Three || Who’s your Daddy? || Masterlist

General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk

Tag list for Joel and Dave @bonezone44 @janaispunk @neverwheremoonchild @survivingandenduring @tammythr @604to647 @baronessvonglitter @psychicsheepstranger @disregardedplant @shessweetsour @merz-8

If you'd like to be tagged in my future fics, let me know!💖

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Undercover || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!detective!reader Summary: When reports of a crime sends Charles into your path you could never imagine what an effect it would have on your life and the case that you lived to solve. Warnings: 18+ only, mentions of s*x traff*cking, g*nshot wound, reader injury. Enemies to friends to lovers WC: 7.2k

F1 Masterlist

“You do realise it is my day off? That means I don’t need to answer my phone, and definitely not at,” you pulled the glaringly bright screen back to see the time, “two in the morning.”

“I know, I know,” your boss sighed apologetically. “I’m really sorry to do this but I know you were working anyway.”

You sat up and rubbed your bleary eyes to see the pages of reports scattered across your bed. Once again you had fallen asleep working on your own time. “Shut up.”

Chief Conti gruffled a dry laugh knowing he was right and you heard the blinds on his door rattle as he closed it. The sound set you on edge and you tossed the blankets back to start getting dressed as you tucked the phone between your shoulder and ear.

“You are at the station. What the hell has happened?” The only time the Chief was at the station outside of nine to five was if there was a national emergency. Your eyes drifted to the papers on your bed and a slither of hope started to creep in. “Did they find-”

“No. Still no word, I’m sorry,” he said, dashing the hope as soon as it started. “It’s a high profile case so I need to come in.”

You swallowed down the disappointment and grabbed your keys off the nightstand. “Alright, be there in five.”

When you arrived at the police station there were reporters with cameras filling the lobby and they even overflowed onto the front steps that you avoided by skirting around the building to the staff entrance. You were already annoyed with the case and you hadn’t even swiped your access card to the offices - but it was disturbing the air that helped you to focus.

“Ah, Detective, thank you for coming in,” Chief Conti greeted formally as he handed  a large mug of coffee over and waved a hand to the man at his side. “This is Charles Leclerc.”

You took a big gulp of the hot drink, burning your tongue without care, and willed the caffeine to work its magic quicker as you stifled a yawn. “I don’t think he needs an introduction, boss, everyone knows who he is. But, I don’t do babysitting, that’s rookie work.”

“He doesn’t need protection.”

You turned your attention to the Ferrari driver and noticed all the small details, from the way his shoulders hunched in on themselves to how his eyes darted around the room. Something had rattled his confidence and trust and you felt sorry for the man. “What can I do for you, Signore Leclerc?”

He cleared his throat and looked at his shoes with a hint of embarrassment colouring his cheeks. “My watch was stolen.”

“Your watch?” you asked slowly as you glared at the Chief, all sympathy gone in an instant. “I was called in because of a stolen watch.”

Your boss sent you a warning look and you sighed as you swiped the manila folder from his waiting hands before turning and sauntering off to your office. “Follow me.”

You didn’t look back to confirm he was following since the cheap linoleum floor made it impossible for anyone to walk quietly and you held your door open, closing it behind him as you pointed to the cushioned chair opposite your desk. You dropped down into the chair without spilling the coffee and moved enough papers around to find space for the cup to sit while you picked up a new report that had been deposited on your desk since you left last night. 

“Are you going to take my statement?” Charles asked quietly, breaking the silence that had filled the last ten minutes.

The new information you were reading didn’t serve to help your case as much as you wished it did and it was hard to keep the bitterness of that knowledge from leaking into your tone. “I have everything I need.”

“I haven’t told you anything.”

“You don’t need to,” you said looking up from the photo you had been scanning. You closed the folder and crossed your arms as you rocked back in your squeaky chair. “You were targeted by adept thieves, two at least, near la Darsena di Viareggio while you were signing autographs, given the ink stains on your fingers. The watch is worth at least 250k, which they knew since they neglected to take your wallet from your back pocket or the, what is that Cartier?, diamond necklace you have tucked under your shirt.”

“APM…” he corrected with his mouth agape. “How did you know that? I didn’t even get to explain that to the Chief.”

“There is a strip of green confetti on the sole of your shoe and last night was the celebration of the croce verde services. Then, there is the fact you were at the Red Corsair - their bouncers use ultra-violet stamps. I can see the reflection of it on your hand. Both point to la Darsena di Viareggio. Chief wouldn’t wake me for anything less than grand larceny and the rocks on that chain around your neck would have been easier to take, same with your wallet.” You grabbed a pen and spun your chair around to see the sleeping city out of your window and longed to go back to sleep too. Turning back, you tapped the pen against your lip and tilted your head inquisitively. “So tell me, Signore Leclerc, what can you add that I have missed?”

“Are you always this rude?” he asked, his eyes looking to the door like he was wishing someone would come and rescue him.

“No,” you said as you returned to the photo and lifted it up to the lamp on your desk to get a better look, “but I am tired and I have far more important things to focus on than a spoiled rich kid whose watch costs more than my apartment.”

Charles pushed himself up from the chair and you glanced up as he spoke. “I see. I’ll let you get back to your evening then.”

You frowned as his brows pinched a little in recognition and you moved the photo to see his eyes following it. “You know this man,” you surmised as you stabbed your finger at the pixelated face.

Charles leaned closer and shook his head. “I don’t know him, but I have seen him before, in Monaco.”

“Sit,” you said as you snapped your fingers and pointed to the chair. “Where does he go, how often, who does he speak to? Tell me everything.” The desk vibrated as your knee bounced excitedly beneath it and you grabbed a notepad, flipping to the blank page.

“Are you still going to look for my watch?” Charles asked as he crossed his legs and sat back with a small smirk.

“I have been looking for this man for ten years, but every time I get close to the cockroach he goes into hiding.” You opened another folder on your desk and grabbed the stack of portraits, tossing each one down on the desk. “Clarice, Shannon, Dakota, Brenna, Aliah…the list goes on. All missing on a night out along the coast, from Livorno to Sanremo. They had all just turned eighteen and wanted to have fun until they met him.”

“No offence but you don’t look old enough to have been policing for ten years.”

“I never said I was.” You stared at the portrait still in your hand and gently traced the smile that graced her lips before sliding it across the desk. “Her name was Kayla. She wanted to have a quiet night in but I begged her to go out for a few drinks. Her mother still calls me for updates and you know what I have to tell her?”

Charles swallowed as he shook his head.

“That I am too busy tracking down pickpockets because a rich boy got robbed. I have to tell her that her daughter's life, my best friend's life, has been calculated by the department and it is worth less than a 250k watch - along with the 16 other missing girls linked to this trafficker.” You grabbed your cell phone and found Mrs Ricci’s number before offering the device to Charles. “Do you still want me to look for your watch? If so, would you like to make the call and tell her yourself?”

Charles shook his head and turned the ring around his index finger, a nervous habit that you had quickly noticed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“Don’t apologise, just tell me everything you know about this bastard.”

The dive bar was thick with cigarette smoke and the haze only added to the sleazy vibe that it was renowned for. Nodding to the bouncer as he let you pass, you snaked your way through the crowd of delinquents and criminals that frequented the place to the bartender.

“You’re not meant to be here, not tonight,” he growled as he looked around the busy room.

“Yeah, well, it’s not exactly my idea of fun,” you scoffed as you accepted the bottle of beer he placed in front of you, “but it beats bringing the whole force down here, don’t you think?”

“Just don’t break the pool sticks again, they are new.”

You saluted him with the bottle and made your way to the doors that led to the back rooms that very few people outside of the family were given access to. You hated this side of the job, balancing on the knife edge that was morally grey, but sometimes a little oversight on a report may be in your favour at a later date. You hoped that was going to be the case this time.

This bouncer was unlike the one at the front door and he had no qualm about you seeing the revolver on his hip when he lifted his hand to rap on the door. It cracked open an inch, a thick chain glinting in the fluorescent light, and the bouncer’s whisper of warning carried along to you, “ghisa in casa.” 

The door closed and you had no doubt the men on the other side were quickly hiding whatever illegal items they were inspecting before the chain rattled off and the door opened.

“Ghisa, we weren’t expecting another visit so soon,” Vincenzo greeted, as he plucked a fat cigar from his lips.

“I’m here to call in a debt,” you said as you stepped inside and rolled your eyes at the careless job they had made of hiding half a dozen guns.

“A debt?” he chuckled. “I didn’t know we had a debt, but I can do you a favour.”

“Cut the bullshit.” You pointed to a roof tile that wasn’t quite back in place. “I don’t need a warrant to search if I have probable cause, wanna call my bluff?”

“It’s always a pleasure to deal with you,” he grumbled and took a seat, pointing to a seat that was quickly vacated. 

“A necessary evil, unfortunately.” You sat down with your beer and nudged the overflowing ashtray further away as you cut to the chase. “Richard Mille-”

Vincenzo huffed and interrupted you with a gruff, “never heard of him.”

“Funny, it’s a watch. A very expensive one too. Now, I know pickpocketing isn’t your MO but I figure scum knows scum.” You took a swig of the beer and he digested the words.

“So, my men get this watch for you and then you owe us.”

You nearly spat the mouthful of beer as your laughter filled the room. “Giacomo was there for his daughter’s birth as a free man, now he gets to see her grow. One word from me and that could have weekly visits for the next seven years.”

“He might be wishing for that now,” Vincenzo joked, earning a round of chuckles from the other men. “His wife is a bitch at the best of times but without sleep and having a newborn, prison doesn’t seem so bad.”

“I can make it happen,” you offered with a smirk. “So?”

Vincenzo cast his eyes around his men and nodded with a wave of his hand. “Go. Start with the whores, see if anyone’s come into money or wearing the Leclerc watch.” Your eyebrow curled up and he returned the look. “What? I see the news now and again. Forza Ferrari.”

“Didn’t pick you for a racing fan,” you admitted as you pursed your lips. “I figured you stuck to sports you could fix.”

His face split in a wry grin, cigar hanging from the corner. “Who said it wasn’t?” 

The country liked to put their faith in God but you found the devil was always better at getting results and Vincenzo pulled through not even a day later when a small mysterious box landed on your desk. You debated calling security but figured a bomb would have been bigger as you pulled open the bow and found the Richard Mille watch nestled on top of a note. Curiously, you picked up the watch to get the note and gagged as you found a finger underneath.

“Fucking hell,” you muttered with a shaky breath as you turned the paper over and read the promise. Slippery fingers no more, V.

It wasn’t a pleasant task to do but you wrapped the finger up in tissues and buried it at the bottom of the bin of confidential paperwork to be incinerated before pocketing the watch. You felt the weight of it the entire walk to your car where you made a phone call you didn’t want to be overheard.

Chief Conti didn’t question your sudden request for leave and you were grateful for it as you stuffed some clothes into a duffle bag and rushed down the stairs as your ride arrived. The moment the sleek black car pulled in you wanted to slap yourself. You didn’t think you really needed to tell him to be inconspicuous but obviously that was an oversight on your part as the Ferrari came to a stop.

“You stick out like a nun in a whorehouse.” 

“Hello to you too, how have you been? I’ve been better, thank you,” he muttered as you slid into the passenger seat and dumped the bag at your feet.

“Yeah, yeah, pleasantries aside - what the fuck are you driving?”

“My car. How else are we getting to Monaco?”

You looked out the window at the standard black sedan you were given by the department, the police lights not as noticeable as a police car but also not well hidden. “This is going to be a long drive,” you muttered under your breath as he started to pull out of the street. 

“Not as long as it would be in your car,” he joked but his smile disappeared when he looked across and saw your lack of amusement. “Oh, come on, lighten up.”

“I’m a little stressed alright, I need this to work.” You sighed and watched the city pass in a blur as you twisted the friendship bracelet on your wrist. “I need this to work.”

“You want to know what I do when I’m stressed?” 

You wrinkled your nose at the question and cast your eyes over his body. “You’re a man, so I’m sure I can guess.”

His laugh filled the car as he shook his head and reached for the stereo. “Music, it soothes the soul.”

“How old are you again?” you asked, the words dripping with mockery. 

“Did you always want to be a cop?” His curiosity had you sit a little straighter and you dared him to continue with the lifting of an eyebrow. “Most I have met are a little more…empathetic, nice?”

“I can be nice,” you huffed as you crossed your arms. Granted it wasn’t your strongest trait, it might have been if your life didn’t come to a screaming halt one night. Now your entire future was fixed on solving this one case, maybe then your conscience could give you a break. 

“A pâtissière,” you broke the silence and Charles glanced across with a look of confusion. “I was training to be a pastry chef.”

“That…wasn’t anything close to what I was expecting.”

“I quit and joined the academy when the case went cold. I wasn’t going to let Kayla be another unsolved file in a box on a dusty shelf in the basement. She deserves better than that. They all do.”

Charles’ knuckles tightened around the wheel until they turned white and you watched the muscle in his jaw clench as he turned to look at you. He may have been dubious about your plan before but now he had the same determination as you did. “We’ll catch him.”

Charles' apartment was exactly what you had imagined it would be. White walls, light furnishings, framed race tracks in lieu of artwork and memorabilia lining the shelves. The only surprise was an upright piano against the living room wall, though on second reflection it wasn’t all that surprising. The long drive had been filled with an eclectic range of music, including classical pieces.

Taking a seat on his couch while you paced the room, he leaned forward and began playing with the rings on his fingers. “Okay, what do you need me to do?” 

“First of all, stop that,” you said pointing to his fingers. “If you are nervous he will pick up on it. You need to look confident.”

Charles rolled his eyes and sat back in the chair, draping an arm along the back as he crossed one leg over the other. “I can be confident.”

You nodded at the change, a little impressed by how naturally it had come for him. “Play pretend a lot?”

One side of his mouth tipped up in a cocky smirk and even his eyes seemed to darken as they followed you across the room but just as suddenly as the act was switched on, he returned to his comfort of twirling his rings. “Enough to know I can do this.”

It was a little disconcerting how convincing he could be but you didn’t have the time to read too much into the problems the driver was going through internally. Maybe at another point in time you would have asked why he faked his confidence so much but that wasn’t your priority now. “Good. I’m counting on it.”

The items in the bag you had packed weren’t strictly legal since the department didn’t know you had taken them from the station but you were beyond caring. You were so close to catching the cockroach that there was nothing going to stop you. 

“Shirt off,” you said as you tipped the bag upside down on Charles’ coffee table. 

Charles frowned in confusion as he looked at all the cords and equipment. “Why?”

“I’m putting a wire on you, so strip.”

He stood up and pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it onto the couch where he had sat. It was impossible not to appreciate the sight before you tore your eyes away and returned to untangling the electronics that had been packed in a rush. He was just another informant you were prepping for the job, being fit and handsome didn’t change that.

Charles jumped a little as you ran the cord down his sternum and goosebump began to prickle across his tanned skin. “You couldn’t have warmed your hands up first, could you?”

You made a show of rubbing your hands together before continuing. “Don’t you take ice baths?”

“Don’t you have a bedside manor?”

“Sure, when the guy is in my bed.” You laughed as his eyebrows rose in response. “What? Surprised a cop can get laid or just me?”

“No, no, nothing like that, you are very good looking, I just…I’m used to women being more reserved. It surprises me to hear you talk like that.”

“The station is 95% men,” you explained as you tore a piece of tape off and stuck the wire to his chest. “If I want to fit in I have to be just another one of the boys, and they love to talk about sex. Turn around.”

Your eyes traced the straps of muscle that ran down his back to a point at the base of his spine where two dimples sat above the jeans that hung low on his hips. There had to have been dozens of people you had prepared for undercover work but none had been a canvas as perfect as this. Biting off a larger piece of tape, you secured the small battery pack and recording device to his lower back before clearing your throat.

“Where’s your closet?”

 Charles turned back to face you and you hoped he didn’t notice any change in you as you avoided his inquisitive eyes. “Down the hall, but I think I can manage getting dressed on my own.”

“Congratulations, you’re a big boy,” you muttered as you rolled your eyes. “I’m more worried about the wire showing through. Let’s go.”

He led the way through his home and into his bedroom, the bed made with a haphazard attempt to just toss the blankets down that left the corners untucked and crinkles rippling across the top. His eyes flickered around the room before his foot slyly kicked a pair of boxers under his bed and you laughed at the attempt.

“Don’t worry, I’m not your mother,” you teased before pointing to the bedside table. “If I was, I would totally shame you about the tissues and moisturiser over there.”

“I wasn’t expecting to bring anyone home,” he muttered as he opened the drawer and shoved them in before slamming it closed, making the lamp nearly fall over.

“Rich, good looking guy - figured you always had the place ready to bring a hookup back.”

“Well, you thought wrong,” he said a little bitterly as he picked up some pairless socks and tossed them in a hamper. “One night stands aren’t my thing. I prefer to have a connection with someone if I’m going to let them come into my home.”

“Connections.” You wrinkled your nose at the sentiment and started opening his drawers in search of clothing that wouldn’t interrupt the sound feed. “How’s that working out for you?”

“Been better,” he admitted, taking a seat at the end of his bed and catching the white tank top you tossed at him. “But I haven’t given up.”

“Hopeless romantic, I should have known from the sad songs you played so much.”

Charles stood up and started to pull the singlet over his head as he spoke, “It has to be better than the bitter spinster act.”

“Who said it was an act?” You caught the hem and carefully eased it over the microphone so it didn’t tug off the tape and found Charles watching you intently. Ever the perfectionist, you ran your palms down the material to erase the creases and bumps that may have given away what was hidden underneath. “I see the worst humanity has to offer every day. I see what love does to people.”

You turned away from the pity in his green eyes and walked into his wardrobe, skimming your fingers over the dress shirts that hung neatly on the racks. “I see what people do to the ones they supposedly love,” you murmured as you selected a crisp white linen shirt and held it up to his chest when you saw he had followed you into the narrow space. “I’d rather be alone.”

“That isn’t the only option,” Charles said as he took the shirt and reached past you to return the empty coat hanger, his body coming close enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin. “You could find someone who would cherish you for the rest of your life.”

“It’s a nice idea,” you smirked up at him, “for a five year old. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage. I remember the nursery rhyme.”

Shaking his head, he gave up on arguing as he swung the shirt over his back and began buttoning it up while you moved onto the line of tailored trousers, then the ties. “Can you do this yourself?” you asked as you selected a rich sapphire tie that matched the pants you held. “Or do you normally have an assistant.”

Charles swiped the tie from your hand as you bit your lip to stifle the laugh and you watched his fingers thread the tie around his collar. He gave a satisfied smirk as he finished the basic knot but the smile fell at your unimpressed stare. “What? It’s perfect.”

“If you’re a 50 year old man,” you scoffed as you untied in and started over. “I’m thinking a Trinity knot will suit you better anyway, given the size of your neck.”

“Do you get off on insulting people or just me?”

“You have a thick neck, that is a fact that I’m sure saves your life given your profession. It is not an insult,” you stated plainly. “Would Usain Bolt be offended if I said he had big calves?”

“You basically called me a 50 year old man,” he huffed as you tightened the knot around his neck and pulled the collar down over it.

“No, I said the Windsor knot is perfect for a 50 year old man.” You secured the tie with a gold pin and patted his chest with a nod before you grabbed his shoulders and turned him to the full length mirror. “Looks good,” you said as you peeked around his body to see the reflection. “You’re on your own with the trousers. I believe you can manage that: zip up, belt on, done.”

Charles rolled his eyes but a small smile played at his lips as he finally stopped seeing everything you said as an insult. “Thanks for the faith, I hope it isn’t misplaced.”

“It must feel quite strange to have a voice in your head,” you whispered as you watched Charles arrive at the exclusive restaurant where you were already seated.

“Not really, this part actually feels familiar,” he replied quietly.

“That’s good, I won’t have to worry about you touching it then.” The earpieces only had a short range but you planned to stay close enough that he wouldn’t be alone while he attended the soiree in the private room above. “What is Couilles De Mouton?”

“Mutton testicles,” Charles answered with amusement thick in his tone. “A delicacy, you should try it.”

“I don’t understand how a country with such exquisite desserts can have such disgusting mains. Who saw a sheep’s testical and thought, you know what? I bet that tastes good. It’s sick.”

“Charles, good to see you again.” 

You could barely breathe as you heard his voice for the first time in almost ten years. You had memorised that sound in case you ever heard it again but imagining and hearing it were vastly different as your heart began to thump wildly in your chest. 

“Are you alright, my friend?” Ferdinand asked and you started to rise from the table as you feared Charles had frozen up.

“Charles?”

“Sorry, I was distracted by all the beautiful women here,” Charles answered, though you weren’t sure who it was aimed at. 

You heard the quiet slap and rub of material like Ferdinand had clapped Charles on the back. “You have a good eye, they are indeed beautiful. Come, I’ll make some introductions while we eat.”

“No, no that won’t be necessary,” Charles chuckled nervously and this time you did leave the table only to stumble as you heard his smooth lie. “I am actually in a relationship.”

“I won’t judge. What’s a little secret between friends?”

Your finger stabbed the elevator button over and over as time seemed to drag and Charles' answers grew weaker and weaker as he struggled with the discomfort he was facing. He had never noticed how the man he thought was just another rich part time resident of Monaco, wanting the perks of the tax haven, was always surrounded by young women. He never noticed that upon closer inspection they all held a vacant stare in their dull eyes though their smiles were permanent and bright.

“There you are, honey,” you greeted as you placed a hand on Charles’ back and rubbed it softly, slow circles to calm his racing heart. “I was looking for you everywhere.”

“Who is this?” Ferdinand asked with a smile that made you shiver. Those pearly white teeth were akin to a shark’s, ready to sink into your flesh.

“My girlfriend,” Charles said as he curled his arm around your waist and pulled you closer while you scanned the dozens of pretty faces before landing on the one that mattered most. Your throat constricted at the almost emaciated frame and how she would’ve hated wearing the cut out dress that hung off her once-enviable skeletal figure. “Amour?”

“Kayla…” you whispered as you took a half step towards her before a hand caught your shoulder, squeezing tight enough that the pain broke through the daze you were in.

“You look familiar, have we met?” Ferdinand asked as his nails dug into your skin. You didn’t even think as your hand slipped between the slit in your dress to grab your handgun from the thigh holster. 

“Yeah, when you made the biggest mistake of your life,” you spat as you drew the weapon and aimed it at the centre of his chest. “You’ve pissed off a lot of people, Ferdinand. Even the Cosa Nostra doesn’t lower themselves to sex trafficking and they are very keen to have a little talk with you when we get back to Vaireggio.”

You waved the gun towards the elevator as some guests noticed the guns and screams erupted. “Let’s go, now.”

“Aren’t you going to arrest him?” Charles asked as he took a step back, the movement catching the others around your periphery. Ferdinand didn’t appear worried because he had more than enough security to stop you from leaving with him.

“You’re just a cop,” Ferdinand laughed and Charles winced as he realised his mistake. “I bet you don’t even know anyone in the Cosa Nostra.”

Your lips curled into a dark smile that made him hesitate. “I have made friends far and wide to find you, some high,” you nodded your head to Charles, “and some low.”

“Friends are just weaknesses to exploit.” Ferdinand thought for a moment before flicking his hand with a signal. “I’ll call your bluff.”

A glint of metal beside Charles had you throwing your arm out and knocking him to the ground before the gunshot rang out. In all the movies you had seen, none of them ever truly captured the sound of a gunshot. The initial explosion of the firing pin hitting the bullet was deafening in a confined space and dozens of people fell to the ground clutching their ringing ears.

For you, it was painless. 

Numb. 

Silent.  

You felt your heart beating. The pulse of it throbbed in your brain and heat spread along your arm with each lub-dub until the pain became white hot fire licking your skin and your fingers came away wet and red. 

Time had warped in the second that the bullet had fired, slowing down enough you were certain you would be able to see a hummingbird's wing beat if one were to pass by. You saw the individual specks of dust dancing in the rays of light before the sun dipped beneath the horizon. You saw the doors exploding into shards of wood as blackclad police infiltrated the private room like an arm of death. 

“Chief?” Your vision started to swim and you were sure his presence was merely a mirage as he rushed in behind the Armed Offenders Squad. A pair of arms caught you as you stumbled back and you found tears in the green eyes that appeared above you. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” Charles said with a shaky voice as he pressed his palms to your shoulder, your blood staining his skin. “Thanks to you.”

“Then why are you crying?”

Charles laughed but it broke with the tears that leaked down his cheeks. “So you have something to make fun of me about later.”

You hated how he disappeared from your view but medics had arrived with Chief Conti and Charles backed away to let them through.

“Hey, Chief,” you greeted with a groan as the initial shock wore away and even more pain rushed in. “You stalking me now?”

“You haven’t taken a single day of leave in all the years I’ve been working with you. I knew something was up, and this old dog was right.” Chief watched as Ferdinand, and the armed men linked to him, were led out of the building in handcuffs while more medics arrived to check the women he had brought, along with the innocent guests like Charles who were in a state of shock. “Is that her?”

Every little movement sent waves of pain across your body but you followed his line of sight to Kayla where she was wrapped under a thermal blanket looking dazed and nodded. 

“I’ll ride to the hospital with her,” Chief promised as he looked at the reason why his best detective had ever joined the force. She was the reason so many young women were going to go home where they belong. “I’ll check in on you soon.”

“Thank you, Chief. Shit,” you swore as you remembered the promise you had made to Kayla’s mother. “I have a phone call to make.”

Charles was already there, reaching for your handbag that had fallen to the floor as the medics packed the gunshot wound and lifted you onto the stretcher. “I’ll call her mum,” he promised as he walked by your side, translating what the medics were saying along the way. He looked a little ashen as he listened and he leaned against the elevator wall as it descended to where the ambulances waited. “The bullet is still inside there so you need surgery.”

“Oh, that’s why it hurts.”

“No, it hurts because you took a bullet meant for me.” Charles pushed off the wall and swayed a little before following the stretcher to the ambulance and climbing into the back with you.

You hissed at the sudden flash of pain that sent stars dancing around your vision as the van rattled to life. “I think, ow fuck, any bullet would hurt, to be honest.”

“Is there anyone I can call for you?” he asked as he sat where he was directed and took your hand in his, the blood on his palms sticky to the touch. “Your parents?”

“No, it will just freak them out.” A tube of gas was passed over and you shoved it between your lips to inhale the pain relief. “This isn’t working.”

“Keep breathing,” Charles murmured and you laughed around the tube after inhaling another deep lungful of the gas.

“I wasn’t planning on stopping, thanks.”

Charles rolled his eyes and dropped his forehead to your joined hands. “I’m glad you can joke at a time like this.”

“If I don’t laugh I will cry and I’m an ugly crier, like really ugly.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Charles whispered too quietly to hear, except you had the earpiece still firmly plugged in your air and it picked up the whispered words. “You’re beautiful.”

“You’re pretty alright yourself,” you whispered back, his head shooting up as he heard you loud and clear. You raised a shaking hand to your bag and pointed to it. “I got you a present.”

“Me?” You rolled your eyes and nodded to answer his question before he opened your bag and spotted the little box. He tugged the little bow open and lifted the lid, a loud laugh erupting as he saw the gift. “Thank you, I needed a new watch,” he said as he leaned in and kissed your cheek. 

You hadn’t been able to resist buying the ferrari-red Spiderman watch from the corner shop on the walk to the restaurant but you weren’t sure the children’s sized band would fit around his wrist as he tried it on. 

“You’re welcome,” you chuckled as you painfully opened the front zip on your bag and held it open so he could see what was inside. “But you might like that one more.”

“What? How did you…” Charles was gobsmacked as he reached for his Richard Mille watch and slipped it on next to the cheap plastic one.

“Called in a debt,” you said with a yawn as the pain faded away and you closed your eyes as the swaying of the van made you nauseous, “it’s no biggie.”

You were almost certain you felt a hand stroking your cheek but almost everything was going numb. “Why don’t I believe that?”

Your head was starting to spin from the laughing gas and you were incredibly sleepy all of a sudden, with all thought and reason slipping from your mind. “Because you can be pretty smart…and pretty…annoyingly pretty…that face…hidden by a helmet…unfair.”

Three Months Later - Viareggio The double shot of espresso warmed your fingers as you sat on the terraced rooftop along the waterfront and watched the seagulls gliding on the wind above the yachts. The chair beside you was quickly occupied and Charles apologised for being almost late as he placed a kiss on your cheek. 

“I ordered for you,” you said after spotting the waitress arriving with his macchiato- since it wasn’t race week he could enjoy the extra calories. “I also said you would pay, since, you know, I took a bullet for you and got fired for it.”

“Technically, you got fired for stealing surveillance equipment,” he recalled as he pulled his wallet out and placed a few notes on the bill holder. 

You waved a careless hand. “Let’s not argue semantics, it’s too early in the morning.”

He chuckled as he took your hand and laced his fingers with yours. “You do realise bakers start before dawn?” 

“I’m used to working weird hours.” A small frown crept onto your forehead as you tried to remember the long shifts but they seemed like a lifetime ago. 

Charles’ thumb caressed your hand and it pulled you away from the memories that felt like an oil slick on your brain. “Do you miss it?”

“No, it was never my dream - just a necessity,” you answered slowly as you tasted the truth on your tongue. “I’m excited to start training again, it’s like I can finally start living again instead of surviving. Chasing every lead, the highs and lows when they went cold, I don’t miss that at all.”

“How is Kayla doing?” 

You swirled the espresso around the small cup, watching the thick golden crema coat the walls as you shook your head. You visited her every week but progress was slow as her body weaned off the drugs Ferdinand had used to keep her and the others docile. “Some days are better than others.”

“She’ll get there, amour,” Charles promised as he lifted your hand to his lips. “She has the most supportive friend who never gave up on her, and never will, right?”

“Right,” you nodded as he lightened the mood as he often did when he came to visit between the trips to Maranello for work. “Can you stay the night?”

Charles chewed on his lip that threatened to curl up in amusement. “I don’t know. I’m a spoiled rich kid whose watch costs more than your apartment. That would damage my reputation.”

You chuffed a laugh as you slapped his arm but the range of movement tweaked the bone that wasn’t completely healed and you froze at the sudden pain. Concern instantly erased the amusement and Charles helped ease your arm back down as his brows furrowed, guilt in those green eyes. “It isn’t getting any better, is it?”

“You worry too much,” you said as you reached out and brushed away the frown lines from his forehead before cupping his cheek. “I’ll be fine, the physio seems to be helping but I might never have full rotation again.”

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, leaning his face into the warmth of your palm.

“I’m not, I’d do it again in a heartbeat. You made a cute French maid.”

“Monégasque,” he corrected with a smile. “I’ll do a lot of things for you, but I’m not going to wear a little maids outfit.”

“That’s a shame,” you laughed. “I arrested a man who sold photos like that on the black market, made a fortune.”

Charles’ nose wrinkled at the idea over the rim of his mug and he almost choked on the mouthful before he swallowed it. “Always good to have a backup plan if my racing career ends earlier than expected.”

“Just skip modelling and go straight to OnlyFans. Solid business plan, babe.”

“No, I know what I’d do,” he said as he cast his eyes over the busy beach below. “I’d invest in a little coffee shop, one that has a reputation for the best pastries in town.”

You smiled at the idea and played along with his hypothetical plan. “You know, all the best coffee shops have an old piano for anyone to play.”

“Of course, and ours would too. Then, at the end of the night I’ll play it for you while you close the shop. I would offer to close it for you so you could get off your feet, but it has to be perfect and you are bossy.”

“You’ve really thought this all out,” you laughed as he was absolutely correct.

“I’m always thinking about you. The long nights without you drive me crazy otherwise.”

You were about to correct him on how he spent his nights without you, acts involving lotion and tissues, but there was a growing audience who had noticed where Charles was.

“Time to go undercover,” he said as he grabbed his sunglasses from the V of his shirt and he placed them onto his face.

“You are never going undercover again,” you scoffed at his charming attempt. “Last time was a nightmare and now I actually care about you.”

“You cared about me then too, especially when you called me pretty,” he said with a lopsided grin. “We had a connection, don’t deny it.”

“That was clearly the drugs talking.” He laughed at the lie and kissed your hand as he pinned you with those green eyes that you saw whenever you closed yours. “Fine, I thought you were hot as fuck. Happy?”

“Very much.” His laugh warmed your temple before he kissed it and you started to walk faster at his sweet whisper in your ear as he promised you the night. “I’ll be even happier when I get you home.”

“Me too,” you smirked as you bit your lip just thinking about getting him out of the clothes he wore. “Then you can show me this ‘connection’ you speak of.”

His smile was blindingly bright as he waved to a few fans, but his hand tightened in your grasp. “It goes very deep.”

“The deeper the better.”

Tagging: @moonvr @copper-boom @yunnie-f1 @ophcelia @lightsoutletsgo @alwaysclassyeagle @neiich @omgsuperstarg @starwarssavy23 @fdl305 @faeb1tch42069 @sweetestrose569 @pleasantducktimetravel @zendayabelova @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @belennasif @ryiamarie @mickslover @tyna-19 @destourtereaux @sunf1ower16 @octaviareina @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel @chonkybonky @jpg3 @bangtanxberm @ohthemisssery @eviethetheatrefreak @kimi240302 @formula1mount @storyteller-le @dakotali @daddyslittlevillain @elijahslover @formulas-bitch @faithm120601 @ynbutbetter @allabouthappiness @simpingcorner @chasing-liberosis @jspitwall @sociallyinepludi

[seivsite]

includes: various!bllk boys x gn!reader. how would bllk boys react to you ignoring them for hsr men? open to your own interpretation — wc: 467

Hoyoverse has finally released their new game, Honkai Star Rail. You’ve been eagerly awaiting this moment for the past two years. You’ve fallen in love with the male characters in the game because they’re hot. It’s as simple as that, really. It seems like you’ve been playing the game for far too long, and your boyfriend is needy for your attention.

“Damn, he’s so attractive! I can’t believe a man from a game could be this pretty!” you exclaimed, turning back to see your boyfriend’s curious and amused expression.

He couldn’t help but frown before pulling you off the chair and rushing you to your shared bed. He pinned you onto the bed and kissed your lips.

“I’m way better than him,” he pouted, looking down at your prone form, your face flushed with red, and avoiding his gaze. “Plus, I’m real and can give you every ounce of my love and affection,” he stated, kissing down your neck before finally lying beside you, guiding your body towards him and holding you tight, refusing to let you go.

“Okay, I get it!” you struggled in his grasp, but he wouldn't release you. “Hmm? Then why don’t you show me, angel?” he teased. You could only blush and stutter in response before he leaned in to kiss you and showered you with all the love that those stupid game characters can’t give you.

ISAGI, NAGI, HIORI, BACHIRA, CHIGIRI, RIN, (PRE WILDCARD) KUNIGAMI, REO, ARYU

“Pfft, that's funny, sweetheart. I don’t remember being in a video game,” he chimed in, leaning over your seated form to see your PC screen.

As he saw the characters, he said arrogantly, “Really? Did you forget that you have me? I’m way more attractive than him. Who can actually satisfy your affection needs? Unlike him, I could make love with you—” He was cut off by your hand covering his mouth.

“Okay, no more of that, please!” you shyly said in a slightly loud voice. “Are you shy, sweetheart? You weren’t so shy last night,” he continued teasingly before being smacked on the head.

KAISER, OTOYA, KARASU, AIKU, YUKIMIYA, (WILDCARD) KUNIGAMI, SAE, BAROU, SHIDOU

“Am I not enough for you, honey?” he asked, giving you sad puppy eyes because some video game characters had captured your attention more than him.

“What? Noo, you’re the love of my life! I’d never trade you for the world!” you replied, noticing his puppy eyes and feeling apologetic.

“I’m sorry, babe. I love you more, okay? Please don't be sad,” you said, pulling him into a hug as he nestled into your neck. “Give me hugs and kisses, and I’ll consider your apology,” he grumbled, and you immediately showered him with all your love for the remainder of the day.

KURONA, NIKO, NANASE, NESS, TOKIMITSU

NOTES. u can imagine your faves if they aren’t listed, i tried to add every single character i remembered at the top of my head. could be ooc for some characters doe.

TAG LIST. @rintosei @m8bius @yanqingisim

LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! ‹3

[sukirichi]

SUKI SUKI? @! ÷ 2? I THINK YOU HAVE CLOSED THE REQS BUT IT OCCURRED TO ME TO ME MAGICALLY HELP. LISTEN !!!! husband bonten but the first time they met with y/n, like THE FIRST INTERACTION OF EVERYONE AND IN WHAT SITUATION DID THEY HAVE AN INSTANT CRUSH TO EACH OTHER AND EVERYTHING THAT CONTAINS?×)÷,×!",!)0273*?× ¡÷ 2 I PRAY YOU TO WRITE IT, IT DOESN'T MATTER IF IT IS IN 10 YEARS 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 IM CRYINH

BONTEN MEN MEETING THEIR WIVES FOR THE FIRST TIME !! (PART ONE)

☁️ mikey, haitani ran, haitani rindou

☁️ unedited. mild angst on mikey's part. ran is technically not a first meeting, but yeah! suggestive on ran's part. fluff. cursing. mikey is lowkey a stalker. (only putting the three of them first because it was getting too long 😭)

♡ — MIKEY

It’s just another day, another mission. There’s nothing new for Mikey. And even if there was, there’s hardly anything he looks forward to now. Whether it’s a mission accomplished or mission failed, he hardly notices. His executives will take care of it, anyway. So he walks aimlessly in the streets he calls his, unafraid of the night’s darkness and the dangers it might bring – quite frankly, because he is the danger that lurks. What is there to be afraid of when he’s the worst imaginable nightmare around?

So lost in his own thoughts, it takes him a second to register the collision of his body with someone else. “I’m sorry!” a sweet voice cuts through the night air. You sound adorable and apologetic enough Mikey’s eyes light up for just a brief moment. Dark, lifeless eyes come to life as he glances at you – bowing in apology while clutching your satchel to your chest. “I wasn’t looking where I was going and I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to–”

At any other day, Sanzu would’ve handled this for him. At any other day, Mikey would’ve let it slide and moved on because he just doesn’t care. You’re a civilian, anyway, and you knew better. No one bumps into him like this by accident. Curious, he tilts his gaze to you. There’s only one good conclusion of your unabashed expression that of guilt and genuine embarrassment – you must not have any idea who he is and treated him like you would anyone else.

He’s not the fearsome Manjiro Sano to you.

He’s just a stranger you inconvenienced, and for some reason, that soothes him. He’s not a killer in your eyes. He’s not a person who’s continuously done the wrong thing for the past few years. He’s just... him.

“It’s okay,” he replies after a moment, tucking his hands inside the pockets of his hoodie. “It’s late, though. You shouldn’t be out around this time of night. It’s dangerous.”

“Oh, I know,” you scrunch up your nose, “Gangs are running rampant and all. But this is the only time I can take a high-paying shift, and what’s the point of safety if I can’t pay my bills, right?”

He doesn’t know how to answer that. He hasn’t worried about bills in a long time – Kokonoi has that covered. Instead, he nods, finding it hard to look away from you. “Stay safe, then. And if you need help, then...” Then, what? The gangs would help? Bonten would keep you safe? No, that was ridiculous. Bonten was the one thing everyone wanted to be protected from.

It hits him, then, that he is the monster that makes everyone feel unsafe. And for once in his life since he’d established Bonten, Mikey feels sick.

He doesn’t want to be the cause of your worries.

— It doesn’t take much to find out everything about you – where you work, where you live, when your shifts happen, and even silly details like what your favourite flavour or cup ramen is. He tells himself he’s doing this for your safety, and in a way, he is. You weren’t kidding when you said you take graveyard shifts because it pays the best, so upon finding out you come home really late, and go to work just as, Mikey takes it upon himself to watch from afar. Never approaching, never striking a conversation – because he doesn’t know what to say, and how could he explain he knows your routine by now – but always watching. Guarding. Protecting. He must look ominous gazing upon you from buildings afar, but he’s content with it. He thinks he can do this for as long as he likes, simply watching you from afar.

— But then he realizes he wants more.

— And he doesn’t know what ‘more’ means exactly. More time with you? You don’t even know who he is. More conversations? He’d probably stumble over his words, or make the worst jokes. Fuck. He hasn’t joked in a while. Would you even find him funny? He thinks about all day long, all night long, until you’re the only one running into his mind and he’s been so mentally checked out of his own meetings that his executives have – politely – asked him to just take a while for himself.

— So he does, and because he was never good at controlling his urges, he goes to you. He dresses a little nicer than usual; a newly ironed shirt, a good pair of jeans, and even asked Rindou to fix his hair up for him. “Going on a date?” he’d teased, but even Mikey doesn’t know how to answer that. It’s not a date, but he’d be damned if he let another day go by that you didn’t know his name.

— He introduced himself, rather awkwardly, and pretends like he didn’t come to your work on purpose. “I didn’t know you worked here,” he says, and it couldn’t be a bigger lie. But you just smile up at him like you’re happy to see him, like you’ve been hoping to meet again, and for a moment, Mikey lets himself believe that it could be true. Maybe he deserves that smile. Maybe someone actually wants to see him. He lingers on that delusion long enough that he’s matched his routine with yours – walking you back home, letting you talk about how much you hate your boss, and hate your sleazy customers even more. It’s not easy being a waitress, especially when you’re forced to wear tight-fitting clothes with the intention of attracting customers. And it gets to him. The darkness and rage he’s been letting quietly simmer beneath his veins as to not scare you off finally resurfaces.

— He hates it all – hates how you’re in such an unfortunate situation, and there’s only so little he could do. Until he realizes he’s the Manjiro Sano. After sending in Sanzu to deal with your boss, who may or may not have been gently blackmailed into treating you better and giving you higher pay or else, Mikey notices the weight being lifted off your shoulder. You’ve started smiling more and even invite him to your place one time to celebrate your ‘fortunes.’

“Are you sure?” he asks rather warily, “I mean, it’s late at night.”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you reassure him, and lead him inside your home. He almost feels bad for you for being so unaware. You don’t have the slightest idea you’re bringing a killer in the safety of your home, but he doesn’t get the chance to dwell on it when you turn on the lights. He’s greeted by your homey apartment, a little cluttered, a little messy, and it’s a little small for you that he can’t imagine would be comfortable – but it’s yours, and you’re proud of it. Pulling out a mat, you tell him to make himself at home while you prepare some celebratory snacks. They’re nothing fancy – mostly chips, cheap wine, and a few hardened candies.

It’s probably the worst timing to realize he’s falling in love.

First of all, there’s nothing romantic about watching you lean against the counter, humming to yourself as you pop open the wine. Second of all, you don’t look enticing or seductive. Not in your mismatched pyjamas and even more hilariously mismatched socks. But you are enticing – from the way your throat vibrates at your humming, to your quick, swift movements preparing the snacks. You look so at home, so content, that he can’t help but want that for himself. Want you for himself. He wants you at his place and to decorate it as you wish. He wants you to liven it up and scatter knick-knacks all over his room. He wants your toothbrush next to his in the bathroom. He wants you – wants all of you – from your crumpled shirt, to your aching shoulders after a long day at work, wants to kiss it all better for you.

He wants you.

And when the Bonten Head wants something, he will get it.

— If someone told him that a few years from now that his silly musings at three in the morning would finally come true, he’d have scoffed at them. But this is his reality is now, and how he’ll spend the rest of his life.

You’re standing next to him in his bathroom, brushing your teeth while simultaneously humming to yourself. He’s heard the melody enough to have memorized it. And when he’s having a hard day, he sings it to himself, although it never sounds as good like when you do it. The tune is comforting, a reminder you’re in his life now, that everything’s worked out. You married him, and he couldn’t be a happier man.

“Something wrong, Manjiro?” you ask after rinsing your mouth, turning to him with a hand on your hips. Stern, yet unbelievably gentle. Cupping his cheeks with your hands, he melts. “Tell me. How can I make it better?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he says, and it’s the truth. The moment is all too perfect. You’re here with him, you’re safe, and you’ve loved him after everything he’s done. “Just wanna hold you.”

You break him to it. Lunging into his arms, you giggle and bury yourself around his neck, knowing full well he’ll catch you. Mikey laughs, too, but it’s quieter, more reserved, the sound nearly muted because your skin is pressing against his so hard that it becomes hard to fathom there was ever a time he felt he wasn’t worth of love. And maybe he still isn’t. He still has Bonten, he still has horrible urges, he still gets the demanding itch to kill and hurt – but you’re there, in his arms, and he feels the darkness slowly simmer into tamed shadows.

♡ — HAITANI RAN

Ran is not subtle with his feelings. He believes in the beauty and art of flirting, of holding one’s gazes for just a second longer than what was considered polite, the fleeting, yet burning touches one could pass off as innocent. He’s had enough experience in his life to have mastered it. He’s handsome, he’s irresistible, and he knows it. Beauty and charm is a weapon he wasn’t ashamed of wielding, especially not around his current flavour of the month – or more like months, now. He’s played this game of tic tac toe with you, this push and pull, for so long that he feels he’ll lose his mind.

Like everyone else in Bonten, he usually gets what he wants. But you’re different. You’re attracted to him – that much he knows – but you’re the one responsible for all of Bonten’s uniform and suits that your attraction borders just on the edge of professionalism. But he knows. Oh, he knows. You aren’t so subtle yourself.

Each time he comes around for a fitting, your lips twitch as if you’re fighting back a smile. He also doesn’t fail to notice how you’re gesturing around to your staff in the shop to give you two ‘privacy.’ Bonten executive or not, Ran isn’t foolish – he knows he’s the only one receiving this special treatment. Knows you don’t touch your other clients like this – with a perfectly manicured nail grazing down his arm, your eyes lidded with lust, your blood-red lips caught between your teeth.

It makes Ran yearn.

He wants those same claws to run down scratches behind his back. He wants to take those lips into his mouth, instead, to have you ruin his suits by staining it with your lipstick on his collar, his neck, his tie, his pants. It’d give him more of a reason to come back, anyway. But you just had to be so professional that he always leaves the shop with his pants feeling tighter than ever, his lungs constricted because it becomes hard to breathe around you, yet feeling so addicted to the high of having you so close, yet so far away.

“You should come back for another fitting,” you call out to him just as he swings the door open. He freezes. He’s always the one scheduling a fitting. Unable to help it, he shuts the door and locks it, smirking to himself when he hears the vague hitching of your breath behind the counter.

“And why is that?”

“Oh, you know,” you manage to tease, but ah. He can see right through you. Even with your nonchalant facade, he can tell he’s getting under your veins with every step he takes to close the distance between you. Damn the counter. Damn any customers who might be waiting outside. For now, there’s only him and you, and he thinks he may damn well truly ruin his pants when you look up at him with eyes blown wide with want. With need.

He wishes you could just let go and give in.

“I, in fact, don’t know. But do care to enlighten me,” leaning down, he rests his arms against the counter, glad to finally be at your eye level. You’re prettier in this angle, which baffles him, because you’re already so pretty enough it hurts. And he can’t help but wonder if you’d look a hundred times better in... different angles. An angle under him, perhaps, where you’re helpless and forced to clutch his biceps while you hold on for dear life. Because Ran guarantees once he gets his hands on you, he’s never letting go.

“I just think,” with narrowed eyes, he feels your heated gaze travel from his face that’s inches away from yours down to his chest, and to the bulge constricted around his pants. You let out a breathy sound at the sight of it, his body responding by growing even harder. “Your pants are too tight for you now. Perhaps we should make you a better one?”

“I have other ways in mind in which we could resolve this problem. Preferably one that doesn’t consist of measuring tapes,” he raises his brow, watches as you slowly unfold and unravel right at his palms. It’s almost satisfying. Almost. He’s wanted you for so long that frustration is more what he feels right now, and impatience. “Although I’m not entirely against using ropes.”

♡ — HAITANI RINDOU

Rindou doesn’t concern himself with civilians. He has better things to do, and after a long day, he’s more than ready to just plop himself into bed and wake up only when the world is ending. Or, he could just let it end, too. He couldn’t care any less. Unfortunately for him, though, the universe has different plans for him that night. He just wanted to get a damned drink, for fuck’s sake, until he hears screaming and the shuffling of feet as soon as he steps out of the convenience store.

“Stop him!” someone squeals, the cry helpless and desperate. From where he stood, wine bottle on one hand, he could see the figure of a man running with what seemed like a bag clutched to his chest. “Someone help, please!”

Rindou sighs. There’s nothing more that he hates more than petty crimes that are more inconveniences than impactful. Before he could register what he’s doing, Rindou’s arm extended out in front of himself, and within the blink of an eye, the thief whizzing past him had been caught by the collar. The thief struggles against his hold, whining and thrashing with curses thrown his way.

“Let me fucking go, you oaf!”

“I don’t think so,” Rindou tips his head to the side just as a figure appeared behind the thief. You stand there, wheezing to catch your breath with your hands on your knees. At the sight of him effortlessly restraining the thief, you break out into a relieved sigh and snatch back your bag, holding it more possessively. And oh, aren’t you just pretty? With your skin layered with a sheen of sweat from all that running, cheeks damp with tears, your frown now replaced with a grateful smile – Rindou feels like you’re the thief. “Whoa. Careful with that smile, sweetheart.”

Your brows furrow, and he nearly groans. It should be a crime for someone to look so adorably confused. “What?”

“Okay, that’s enough, they got their bag back, now let me go!”

Right. He still had a lame excuse of a criminal on his hand. With a roll of his eyes, Rindou throws the man against to the ground until he’s coughing out blood from when he hit the pavement. He hears you gasp, and it makes him wince. He hadn’t meant to be so harsh. You’re probably afraid of him now.

“Run along,” he warns the petty thief, and he didn’t need to be told twice. As soon as the man disappears, Rindou turns to you, a lazy smile making its way into his face. “You know, I usually hate being troubled, but this might be the first time I don’t mind as much.”

Your jaw drops. You look around frantically in your bag for a moment, and just when he thinks you can’t get anymore interesting, you pull out a wad of cash and shove it to him. Rindou cocks a brow. “And what is that for, sweetheart?”

“To-to thank you for saving me! And it’s also an apology because I troubled you...”

Rindou fights the urge to scoff. “I feel like I should be offended,” he says in a sing-song manner, only because you don’t take the teasing well, and the sight of you stumbling over your words is already making his night. He wants to reassure you it’s no trouble at all, that he’ll easily catch all your thieves for you, or that you can steal his heart and never give it back to him. But he doesn’t, because he’s just met you, and maybe, just maybe, he’s curious how this will go.

“Oh, I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“Say, if you really want to thank me, why don’t we share this?” he lifts his wine bottle, and you eye it for a moment before nodding eagerly. His heart drops. He lowers the bottle, his voice growing darker – yet make no mistake. Behind his scowl and hardened eyes, his heart is beating a mile a minute, and his skin is burning impossibly hot. “Don’t you think you say yes a little too easily?”

“Uhm, but you saved me. You helped me, and this is how you want to be thanked.”

Rindou thinks his brain might short-circuit. You are definitely trouble.

“I could be more dangerous than him, you know,” he leans toward you menacingly to prove a point, but you don’t cower. Your breath hitches, and you clutch your bag tighter. But you don’t move away, and neither can he. Now that he’s closer, he can smell your strawberry scented perfume and he shuts his eyes, greedily inhaling the scent. Shit. He hasn’t even drunk anything, and he already feels intoxicated. Taking a step back for his own sanity, Rindou levels you a warning glare. “You really should be more careful, sweet. Perhaps it’ll lower the chances of you running into trouble.”

“Oh,” you look dejected, though he could just be imagining it. “Yeah, okay, uh... I’ll be more careful. Thank you again...?”

“Rindou.”

“Rindou,” you repeat, and he realizes his name sounds sweeter when you say. With a scrunch of your nose, you eye the wine in his hands again. “Will I see you again? I really want to thank you for your help.”

With such a sweet offer, how can he resist? He’d be stupid to say no – even if you were trouble, it’s fine. He wasn’t notorious for being a troublemaker for no reason anyway.

[cameronsprincess]

— summary: it’s been a month since you and rafe broke up, and when the two of you end up at the same party, rafe wants closure. but things go differently.

— pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

— warnings: strong language, toxic relationship, some angst, pet names, praising, dom!rafe, unprotected sex, fingering, slightly sweet!rafe in the end.

— note: my first fic i posted on my old blog, only fair it’s the first reposted on my new blog <3 it’s also slightly reworked but not by much!

❥ closure— r.c

It’s been a month since you’d seen him. A month of dodging calls and texts, begging you to just come talk.

The truth was, you missed him, but you knew it was for the best if you steered clear of him.

He was toxic in every way imaginable; controlling, mentally abusive, he had a drug problem he wasn’t willing to shake, not even for you. He had so many problems within himself and he wasn’t willing to try and fix them. It had been a long but rewarding month, and you finally felt happy again.

But you knew you’d see him eventually, given y’all live on a small island in North Carolina, and now here you were, standing in the middle of his best friends living room at a party, hoping you can make it through the night without seeing him.

“Y/N? You okay?” you hear your best friend ask from beside you, completely pulling you from your thoughts.

You look over at her and give a small smile, trying your hardest not to give away that your mind is on Rafe.

“Yeah i’m fine, just a little on edge. This is the first party i’ve came to since…” The sentence dies on your tongue when you see him, standing at the opposite side of the house, glass full of whiskey in hand, his eyes locked on you.

“Fuck” you say under your breath and looking to your best friend again.

“What? Y/N/N what’s wro-“ she starts, but is cut off by an all too familiar voice. Rafe.

“Hey Y/N… I was wondering if we could talk?” Rafe asks, his eyes trained on the ground beneath him.

You stand frozen in your spot, unable to form a coherent thought. You hadn’t seen him in an entire month, you hadn’t heard his voice in an entire month, you hadn’t felt the feeling you were feeling right now in an entire month.

You look up at him, trying to get a read on his face, hoping you could figure out his true intentions through his eyes. But when he locks his blue eyes with yours, they’re filled with nothing but sadness. You’d never seen Rafe look so sad before, not even when his dad spent the entire day tearing him apart, he never looked as sad as he did right now.

You look toward your friend who is just watching the two of you like it’s her favorite show, causing you to roll your eyes at her. She gives you an apologetic smile before she looks back at Rafe, “Sorry bud, I don’t think she’s much up for talking to you”

He gives her a shit eating glare, his head slowly turning back to you. You notice his features soften when he meets your eyes again, “Look Y/N it’s just a talk. We need better closure, I need better closure… Please?”

You let out a deep sigh and let your fall to look at the ground before looking back into his eyes. You really missed him. Missed those deep blue eyes, his plump pink lips, you missed everything about him.

“Rafe, I don’t think I can give you what you’re looking for. I just- We were toxic together, you know that. What more is there to say?”

Rafe frowns. “Look I just need you to know I will fucking change. I need you. I’ve been a mess this last month, I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, all i’ve done is try and drink you away. I even quit doing coke for you, I thought maybe if I try and change who I am, then fuck, I don’t know.. Maybe you’d love me again. I fucking need you though”

You stand there in shock at his revelation. You never thought you’d hear Rafe Cameron say he needs someone. He’s the Kook Prince, he has everything he wants, he could have any girl he wants, so why does he need you? Fuck why does he want you?

Rafe pulls you from your thoughts, his hands placed softly on your shoulders. “Y/N?”

You shake his hands from your shoulders. “Let’s go talk. But just talk, Rafe”

He gives a small smile, taking your hand in his and leading you up the stairs and into a small guest bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind him.

You move to sit on the end of the bed, eyes finding Rafe who was still standing by the door, his eyes raking your figure up and down. You felt your face grow hot from his intense stare, he’d always had this sort of affect on you, even though you’d been together for three years, he always knew how to get you flustered.

“Rafe, you said you wanted to talk, so let’s talk” you say with a shaky voice.

He begins moving closer to you, making your entire body grow hot, “I do wanna talk, but y’know it’s hard to just talk when you look so goddamn sexy baby”

“D-don’t call me that. We’re not together anymore”

“And that’s the problem baby girl, we should be together. We were meant to be together, why can’t you see that?”

“Rafe” you begin, but are cut off by his lips hovering over yours, he was so close you could smell his expensive cologne that you love so much.

“What is it baby? I know you miss me like I miss you. Fuck. I miss your smell, your laugh, your smile, I miss the way your hands feel in mine. I really miss the way your pretty lips look wrapped around my cock, I miss everything about you”

You suck in shaky breath, his words causing an ache to grow between your legs. You squeeze your legs together and push him back, finally able to catch a good breath. You look up into his eyes, normally beautiful and blue, but right now they’re darkened over and full of lust for you.

“Rafe I can’t do this with you. You always try and use sex to pull me back in, and it usually works, but fuck, I can’t do this” You stand from the bed, pushing past him and making your way toward the door, unlocking the door. Before you can pull the door open you’re pushed into the door, hearing it locked again before you’re spun around to face Rafe.

“Fucking hell Y/N stop! You wanna talk? Let’s talk”

“Rafe let me go” You say sternly, trying your hardest to push him off of you.

He loosens his grip on your arms, and steps back a little. You look into his eyes, noticing the tears that were threatening to fall.

You give him a sad smile and exhale deeply, “Look, Rafe. You know I love you, fuck you’re the one person i’ve loved more than anything in all mu years in this earth, and we were good together, but we weren’t at the same time.. The bad outweighs the good..”

You see a single tear fall from his eye, the sight breaks your already broken heart more, but you know you can’t give in. If you do it’ll be the same cycle repeated all over again. Years of dealing with the fights, the tears, him shutting you out when his dad has been a royal ass. You couldn’t handle it anymore.

“Y/N I promise i’ll change. I know you say the bad outweighs the good, and I understand that, but if you just let me have this one last chance, I swear I will spend every single goddamn day proving to you that I fucking love you. You’re the only happiness i’ve had in my miserable existence, I can’t fucking lose you”

You feel your heart shatter in that moment, you knew he loved you, that much you never doubted, but you weren’t sure you could allow yourself to go through all the heart ache again.

You slowly move toward him, wanting to take all his pain away, let him know you were here. You bring him into your arms, his head falling into the crook of your neck as he let choked sobs escape him. You rub at his back softly, whispering sweetly to him as you tried to calm him down.

You know you miss him, why is it so hard to let someone go? Why is it so hard to stop loving someone when they’ve given you every reason to hate them?

You pull away from him, looking into his sparkling blue eyes, seeing him this way hurt, and you knew you were going to forgive him. Take him back. You couldn’t help it. You loved him. You lift up on your toes and place a soft kiss on his lips before quickly pulling away. He looks into your eyes, searching for any sign that he could kiss you again.

He slowly bends down and captures your lips with his again, softly and slowly at first to make sure you were okay with it, but he quickly deepens the kiss when he realizes you weren’t going to shove him away. You melt into the kiss, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth and explore as your arms fly around his neck.

He moves his hands down the curves of your body, reaching your thighs and giving a light tap, signaling for you to jump and wrap your legs around his torso.

He holds onto the bottom of your thighs, walking the two of you over to the bed. He never breaks the kiss until he softly drops you onto the bed.

You watch in awe as he tears his shirt off, tossing it to the side and crawling on top of you. He keeps his gaze on you, a small smirk on his lips before he leans down and kisses you deeply again.

Yo whimper against his lips, “R-Rafe, please. I need you. I’ve missed you”

He breaks the kiss and looks down at you with that cocky smirk you know all too well, “Tell me what you want sweetheart, and I’m sure I can help you out”

“Touch me, please” You whine, grabbing his hand and leading it to where you need him the most.

He begins quickly unbuttoning your shorts, sliding them down your legs and tossing them across the room. He palms your cunt through your panties, rubbing his thumb over your soaked core, “Shit princess, so wet. You’ve ruined these” he says lowly, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties and sliding them down your legs.

“Shirt off” he demands, moving to unbutton his pants, eyes never leaving you as he watches you pull your shirt over your head.

He sucks in a sharp breath when he sees you’d opted for no bra tonight, “Fuck baby, I missed you like this”

“Prove it”

Before you have time to think, Rafe pushes your back onto the mattress and begins littering your neck with kisses, pulling moans and whines from your lips. “Rafe! Please, do something”

“So needy for me aren’t you baby?” He says as he begins rubbing slow circles on your clit. You squirm underneath his touch, your hips bucking forward as you try and gain more friction. He takes his free hand, pushing your hips down into the mattress.

“Be a good girl, and don’t move. You know i’ll take care of you, alright?”

He slowly rubs your clit with his thumb, inserting his middle finger into your soaked pussy, forcing a moan to fall from you, your gummy walls clenching around his finger. You try and focus on your breathing, the pace of his finger mixed with the pressure he was applying to your clit pushing you toward the edge fast.

“My needy girl, clenching around my finger, you like when my fingers are inside you baby?” He asks, voice low and raspy as he sinks another finger inside you, quickening his pace.

You nod your head, back arching off the mattress, pushing his fingers deeper into you. He chuckles darkly, curling his fingers slightly and hitting at your sweet spot before he pulls them from you completely.

“Rafe what the f-“ you were about to complain, but the words die on your tongue when he sinks both fingers back inside you, thrusting them in and out harshly, the slight curve of his fingers repeatedly hitting at your g-spot.

“Oh shit, keep going baby, i’m gonna cum, Rafe! Fuck!”

Rafe slows his pace, leaning forward and kissing your lips softly. “I know baby, I can feel your pussy clenching around my fingers, but you can’t cut, not yet princess. You’re gonna cum on my cock”

You moan out at the slow pace of his fingers, your eyes squeezed shut as he pulls them from you. You open your eyes and watch as he strips his briefs from his body, letting his hard cock spring free. You prop yourself up on your elbows and stare in awe at the beauty of the man in front of you. After three years you still find yourself drooling over him like this, but who wouldn’t ?

“I almost forgot how big you are baby” you stay while moving to bring him into your mouth, but he stops you before you can even begin.

“Tonight’s all about you sweetheart, we’ll have plenty of time to let you put that pretty mouth to use, but for now, i’m going to fuck you. Lay back”

He begins stroking himself slowly, bringing his free hand and wrapping it around your throat, “I’ve always loved how you look with my hand wrapped around your throat, such a pretty girl”

You squirm beneath him, wanting nothing but the feeling of his cock inside you. You begin to whine, begging for him to fuck you when he finally sinks himself inside you, moans and groans falling from both of you as he fills you perfectly.

“Fuck baby, so fucking wet, so tight, and just for me”

He begins thrusting himself into you slowly, your inner walls squeezing at him tightly.

“Tell me you only get this fucking wet for me, that this pussy belongs to me!” He demands, his hips pounding into you harder and faster.

You open your mouth to speak but nothing but moans and whines come out, you can’t think straight, much less form a coherent sentence.

Rafe slows his thrusts to an agonizingly slow pace, stilling inside you completely. He tightens the grip he has on your throat, forcing your eyes open and onto him, “Answer me baby, or i’ll stop”

“Fuck, Rafe! Only you, It’s all for you!”

He smirks, his hips pounding into yours again. “That’s my good girl”

You feel yourself clenching around him, your walls sucking him further into you. You bring your hands to his face and pull his lips down to meet yours, kissing him sloppily and hungrily.

“Fuck Rafe! I’m about to cum!” You whine, your hands flying to his shoulders, fingernails digging into the flesh.

He takes one hand and grips at your hip tightly, surely leaving a bruise. He pulls your body further into him, his thrusts growing sloppier and harder as he buries his face into your neck, sucking a bruise into the skin.

“Come for me baby, come all over me”

You feel the pressure build up in your stomach, your pussy clamping down on him harder. You begin to move your hops with his, trying to push him closer to his release.

The room is filled with nothing but the sounds of both your moans, and skin slapping against skin. You feel the band snap, your legs shaking uncontrollably beneath him and your release rushes through you.

“Fuck baby, i’m so close, fuck!” Rafe groans out, his dick twitching inside you as the hot ropes of his cum spill inside you.

He lets his body fall onto yours, fighting to catch his breath, “I love you”

You place a soft kiss to his cheek, smiling, “I love you too”

He pulls himself from inside you, rolling onto his side and off the bed. You watch as he disappears into the bathroom, emerging seconds later with a warm washcloth in hand. He begins cleaning the inside of your thighs.

Once he’s done cleaning you up, he grabs his briefs from the floor, slipping them back on and moving to grab your t-shirt.

The two of you quickly get dressed, the room completely silent until Rafe clears his throat and grabs your hands, pulling you toward him.

“So I just want you to know, this wasn’t me using sex to pull you back into my fucked up life.. I understand if you still don’t want to be with me..”

You sigh, bringing your hands to his face and kissing his lips, “Rafe I know we’ve been through this before, and we go through the same cycle time and time again, but I love you. So i’m willing to try this again”

A big smile takes over his face, and he pulls you into a long, sweet kiss. When he breaks the kiss he looks deeply into your eyes, “I promise i’ll show you how much you mean to me, how much I love you. I promise you’ll see the change in me, i’ll be the man you deserve”

You giggle. “I trust you, Rafe. And most importantly I love you. Now let’s get back down there before everyone thinks we killed each other”

RAFE TAGLIST: @whore-4-drewstarkey @ivy-34 @aemonddtargaryen @thelomlisrafecameron @rafegirly @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @starkeypankowsbae @lizcameron @m-1234 @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @abbybarnesstuff @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @alexisbaumann2004 @yourfavborderhopper @moremaybank @mel119g @rafetopia @rafecameronnslut @rafemotherfuckincameron @jade-is-jaded @jjmaybankisbae @lexasaurs634 @softlilacarrest @fayerite @exhaustedbutelated @lyndys @urmyslxt @presleyanswrites @sierraluvz @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes

rafe masterlist | taglist form

[irisintheafterglow]

hey how do we feel about neighbor!bakugo on your first night in a new apartment complex

it was so much colder than you expected.

you already knew you needed to put in a work ticket to fix your ac unit because it seemed to be stuck at the lowest setting (and you weren't in the mood for such a high utility bill). for the time being, bundled up in your comfiest sweater, you finish unpacking the last of your things. the shower curtain is strung, the pots and pans are stored, and the sun is nearly gone by the time you arrange the last throw pillow in front of your headboard.

polaroid pictures of your friends dot your walls, reminders of home that should fill you with something other than sorrow. it was a different type of ache every time you moved back for school; you wanted simultaneously for everything to freeze in time so you wouldn't miss anything, but also for them to live and send you all the memories you weren't experiencing. yet here you were again, in a very cold, very echoey studio that seems too loud when you shut the kitchen cabinet and place a can of soup on the counter.

there's a knock at the door before you turn the knob to light a burner on the stove.

"hey." when you first open the door, you're bombarded with the smell of something incredible, savory and buttery with the slightest smokiness. it drifts down the hallway and you catch a door propped open with a case of plastic water bottles out of the corner of your eye. when you register the guy in front of you, you have to rewire your brain when it short-circuits. "i'm bakugo in 2281. if you smell smoke, don't call anyone. i just messed up trying to cook." he's the first person you've met that can make scowling look so handsome as he runs a hand through unruly blonde hair. you finally realize that you hadn't uttered a word since opening your door and you can imagine the jolt as your senses return to your body.

"i think it smells incredible, actually," you offer and he shrugs, a muscled shoulder lifting underneath a simple black tank. well, that is a...lovely view. "are you pan-frying something?"

"i'm not; my roommate is. i usually do the cooking, but he insisted when i accidentally burnt our shit on high heat."

"happens to the best of us," you agree sympathetically. "is it just the two of you in that unit?"

"nah, we've got two more with us too." a small smirk fights its way onto your face as he looks less-than-pleased with his living arrangements. "unfortunately."

"seems like you get along great with them," you tease lightly and he scoffs, rolling his eyes lightheartedly. "did you guys move in today too?"

"took seven fuckin' hours, but yeah. eventually." he answers and you snort, feeling a little more at ease and leaning against the doorframe. "you?"

"i just finished unpacking my things. i was about to make dinner when you knocked." you swear you watch his eyes, scarlet red, shoot down and over your body, but the interest is gone as soon as it appears. "well," you begin a little awkwardly, not really sure what else to say. "i hope whatever your roomie makes is delicious, and thank you for letting me know about the smoke. better luck next time, i guess."

"yeah." bakugo shifts uneasily on his feet, like he was trying to say something that wasn't coming out.

"i guess i'll see you around--"

"yo, bakugo! we have a problem!" before you shut the door, you glance down the hall in the direction of the amazing smell and see who you could only assume was bakugo's roommate sticking his face out of the front door. his hair was fiery red and held back by a simple sweatband, also red. bakugo swears under his breath and gives you an apologetic grimace. "oh, hello!" the red-head addresses you with a blindingly bright grin that reaches his ears, which don't seem to be working as he shouts loud enough to get your whole floor a noise complaint. "i'm kirishima! are you our new neighbor?"

"what the fuck happened, shitty hair? and stop fucking yelling!"

"no, we don't have watermelon!" kirishima shouts back incorrectly. bakugo drags his hand down his face with a groan.

"that's not what i asked, dumbass!"

"just fyi, denki didn't tell me he put one packet in until after i put my packet in, so we accidentally made, like, ten servings of food," kirishima yells.

"this is what happens when you dumbasses do the cooking," bakugo barks in response. a crashing THUD! and the distant sound of loud hip-hop leak from their unit and you can't help smiling a little bit. for all their chaos, it was a little endearing. it felt like light was seeping into your stale apartment and you suddenly felt the urge to keep the door ajar so long as they kept theirs the same. "do we have any room in the fridge?"

"you think a broom is a bitch?" kirishima mistakenly mishears again and you stifle a giggle into your hand. "look, we don't have room in the fridge for leftovers since sero bought 2 cases of energy drinks!"

"i am going to stuff all three of them in a box and ship them to a different continent," he mutters and you finally burst out laughing. his eyes flicker over to you and narrow slightly, an idea precipitating in his brain. "you say you didn't eat dinner yet?"

"that can of soup is my dinner." you gesture over your shoulder to the sad little can in the dull light of your apartment. "why?"

"you wanna come over? promise they're not shitheads that wanna poison you. they're just dumbasses that don't know how to cook," he explains, a light shade of pink growing on his ears. "we can leave the door open, too, so you can bolt if you feel uncomfortable or whatever. up to you." he rubs the back of his neck with his palm, exhibiting every possible indicator of embarrassment.

"are you cooking dessert too?"

"no," he replies. "but i can make a mean ice cream sundae. it'll be damn good since i'm the one making it."

"then i don't need anymore convincing. want me to bring my own plate?"

"no need, we have extras." the sound of shattering ceramics followed by screams of horror say otherwise. "on second thought, maybe you should bring your own plate."

"no worries. i'll be over in a second. save me a chair?"

"'course. thanks for helping us and our mess."

"i should be thanking you. stay here a sec," you say quickly before grabbing a plate faster than the speed of sound. before bakugo can inhale again, you're throwing open the door again with a plastic plate and a container in hand. "any chance you've seen that new action-drama on netflix?" you ask as he walks you over to his unit. with every step, the impending chaos nears, and you find yourself grateful for it.

"the guys've been meaning to watch it, i think. i didn't really care but i'll watch it with you, if you want."

"oh, i've already seen it. three times," you admit sheepishly and don't think too much on his suggestion of watching it with you. "i just need someone to talk about the franchise with, and--"

"you the new neighbor? kirishima's almost done cooking, so we should have food out in a sec." another head pokes out from the doorway as you're about to step through. "i'm sero, the hottest one in the house."

"yeah, maybe for blind people!" the final roommate calls from far inside the apartment.

"you can't be in conversations when you're taking a shit, denki!" sero shouts back and invites you inside. "ignore him. he has many, many problems."

"as do all of the people in this damn house," kirishima says in passing as he sets a pan of food on the kitchen table.

"you better have washed your hands, fuckin' weirdo," bakugo threatens when the last roommate appears from the hallway. "sorry about them. we've been friends since high school and i can't get rid of 'em," he whispers to you.

"aw, c'mon. you know you love us or you wouldn't be living with us," denki sings.

"like i had any choice when you asswipes forged my signature on the lease."

"we didn't forge it, we just took creative liberties since you were on patrol..."

when the roommates are finally done arguing, you introduce yourself and, with one last amused look toward bakugo, sit down for dinner.

and for the first time in what felt like days, you felt warm.

---

despite it being less than a hundred feet down the hallway, all four of your new friends insist on walking you to your front door. three of them conveniently dismiss themselves once they've said their goodbyes, leaving you with a very-flushed bakugo fumbling over his words as he asks if you want to come over again sometime.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! commissions and nsfw requests can be sent through my fiverr! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

personal confessions. [2/3] l Joel Miller

Summary:  you met to celebrate, but your conversation took a dangerous turn

Warnings:  (+18) smut, some understatements, a few curses, oral sex (m receiving), some kissing, a little bit of angst and fluff, , Sarah mentioned, Tommy is there too

A/N: it took me some time. i'm not completely satisfied, because the last few days have been quite difficult for me mentally. but i created something like this.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

[part 1]

"Good morning, ma'am!"

You looked up from your computer and into Tommy's smiling face.

"I see you had a good weekend." You replied, following with your eyes as the man went to the kitchenette to make himself some coffee.

"Yep, definitely!" he replied, sticking his head out and grinning at you. "And you?"

"Rather boring."

Tommy leaned against the door frame and looked at you with a wary gaze. He was completely different from his older brother. You had worked together for a long time, you were used to his style of being and his jokes really amused you, although Joel usually rolled his eyes at him then. But the atmosphere between you was really good, so working for Millers was a pleasure for you.

"Sorry, honey, but you looked like a million bucks last Friday. How on earth did you not manage to pick up anyone?" he asked, lifting the cup of coffee to his lips "If you'd let me..."

The door suddenly slammed and Joel entered, carrying a stack of invoices that he immediately placed on your desk.

"You've already had your coffee." he muttered, glancing at his brother.

"But I haven't had such nice company." Tommy nodded in your direction "Joel, can you imagine, she didn't pick up anyone on Friday? You saw how good she looked. How is that possible?"

"Tommy, please." You groaned, hiding your face in your hands.

"It's none of our business." Joel replied, but he only gave you a quick glance "Besides, she has someone, right?"

Your eyes met for a moment. You hadn't had any contact with him since Friday.

What were you supposed to tell him? You'd been thinking about what had happened between you all weekend, and your pussy was clenching at the mere memory of his fingers inside you. Damn, it hasn't been easy.

"But..."

"Tommy, we really don't have time for this now. We have to go to a client." Joel interrupted him nervously and pulled his phone out of his pocket. "He's already called me twice."

"A package arrived for you. The courier brought it first thing in the morning." You mumbled, pointing to the box standing by the window.

"Great! I'll take it, and you, Tommy, finish your fucking coffee and get down to the car. I'm not waiting for you."

You both jumped when the door slammed again. Tommy took another sip of coffee and cleared his throat.

"Sorry, I don't know what got into him." he said, smiling apologetically. "He's a little nervous."

You waved your hand dismissively and reached for the invoices in front of you. "Don't worry. It's Monday."

You both looked up as a loud honking sound reached your ears.

"He'll kill me someday. Bye!"

The day went by slowly. You buried yourself in invoices, had to answer a few calls and contact a few clients. It wasn't until around lunchtime, when you had to call Joel about a delivery that was supposed to show up at his place of work, that you realized something was wrong.

The familiar sound of the phone ringing echoed through the office. You started picking up more papers and soon you spotted Joel's phone, which he had left on your desk.

"Shit." you hissed.

Joel always had his phone with him. In case it was a client, a supplier or someone from Sarah's school calling. However, the display showed zero new calls, so at least that problem was solved.

Using your phone, you called Tommy, who answered after a few rings.

"Sorry, darling." he sighed. "I had to go to the store in another city. I'll be gone for a few more hours. Maybe you could take it to him yourself, huh? When that grump realizes he doesn't have his phone, he'll be even more unbearable."

"Yeah, I think I'll do that." You mumbled, rubbing your temple with your hand. You weren't sure if you were ready to meet Joel. "Thanks, Tommy."

You threw Joel's phone into your purse and left the office, feeling your stomach tighten.

You saw a familiar car in the driveway of the house and parked nearby. No other cars. It was time for lunch, so the guys who were helping the Millers went out for a meal. Joel clearly preferred to stay put.

"Joel?" your voice echoed through the empty hallway. "It's me. Where are you?"

You heard the echo of footsteps and after a moment you saw a familiar figure at the top of the stairs.

"What are you doing here? Did something happen?" he asked, clearly concerned.

You shook your head and headed up the stairs towards him. "No, you just left your phone in the office. I called Tommy, but he suggested I bring it myself." You pulled out your phone and handed it to him.

"Thanks, you didn't have to."

"I know you, Joel. You'd tear this house apart thinking you'd lost it. If Sarah had called or someone important..."

"Thanks."

He noticed how curiously you were looking around the interior. You were rarely at their place of work, mostly taking care of office matters. Something that scared him and Tommy, and you did it perfectly.

"Would you like to look around?" he asked, your eyes lighting up.

"May I?"

"The guys are at lunch. I just wanted to finish something." he scratched the back of his neck. "C'mon, no one minds."

He led you inside, showing you the bathroom and a couple of bedrooms they were renovating. The smell of wood and paint filled every place, and your footsteps echoed.

Finally, you stopped in the last room, what must have been the master bedroom.

"So..." you began a little hesitantly. "Would you like to talk?"

Joel was visibly avoiding your gaze. "I guess we have nothing to talk about, huh?"

"Oh. I thought..." a cold shiver ran down your spine even though the room was quite stuffy.

Joel folded his arms across his chest, his faded T-shirt tightening more on his broad shoulders. He took a defensive position, it was the safest.

"We had a few drinks last Friday." he began, and with each word that left his mouth, you felt worse and worse. "We got carried away a bit, but I think we should go back to how it was."

"You mean..."

"I'm your boss, you work for me."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. "Oh. Ooh!" you snorted. "Somehow this whole boss-employee thing didn't stop you from burying your fingers in my pussy up to the knuckles."

The tips of his ears burned, Joel swallowed hard. This wasn't what he expected. The memory of that evening had haunted him ever since, and this conversation was a nightmare come true.

He was already blaming himself for having too high hopes for you, for what had happened. Meeting you after all that was already awkward enough. And you wanted to talk. So he bounced the ball to your side of the court.

"I thought Jack really missed you." Joel grumbled. "That bouquet was fucking impressive. So, are you back together?"

"No."

Finally, his warm brown eyes looked at you. Something strange flashed in them, his face twitched.

"No?" he repeated after you.

You shook your head. "I didn't lie to you, Joel. It was over and no, not even a fucking impressive, bouquet of flowers would change that."

"I'm sorry." Joel lowered his head, clearly embarrassed. "I thought that..."

“Yeah, I get it.” You shrugged. “See, I did it for myself. That doesn’t mean I wanted to take advantage of you or anything…”

"I didn't think about it that way." he felt more and more embarrassed. "It was our mutual decision, right? We both wanted it. I... I really like you. I think you're an amazing woman..."

You smiled, and a heavy stone fell from his heart. One of your smiles could make his day better, and now he really needed it. The atmosphere clearly lightened.

"I like you too, Joel. And everything I told you back then was true." You approached him slowly, not taking your eyes off him. "I wanted to try, you know. Give it a chance and see where it will take us. Is that stupid?"

He shook his head. "I acted like a dick, didn't I?"

"No, you didn’t. All we had to do was talk."

You were standing so close that he could clearly smell your perfume. A sense of relief filled his heart, as if he was a few pounds lighter. He cleared his throat and finally spoke.

"Would you let me invite you to dinner or something?"

"I'm not sure." you frowned, and his heart beat anxiously "You see, Joel... We still have some unfinished business. And I'd like to give you something back. Something I didn't give you last time."

What business? What were you supposed to give him? His mind was blank. 

The face of the girl standing in front of him was unreadable. It was only when your fingers grabbed the buckle of his belt and pulled lightly that he understood. His cock twitched in his jeans, clearly aroused.

"I... You don't have to, sweetie." he mumbled, confused.

"You don't want to?" you seemed so sweet to him when you pout your lips, pretending to be sad.

"Fuck. I dream of nothing else, but..."

He didn't have time to finish, your fingers deftly unbuttoned his belt, and then slid inside, stroking his already hard manhood. Joel sucked in a loud breath through clenched teeth.

"Can I?"

He barely heard the question, but nodded quickly. Strong hands grabbed your face as he kissed you hard, when you lightly slid his jeans down. His hard cock popped out, its tip already shiny and swollen.

Joel wasn't holding you back anymore. He watched as if through a haze as you knelt down in front of him, licked your hand and stroked him gently. A quiet "Fuck!" slipped from between his lips.

You grabbed it confidently, moving your hand up and down. His cock was impressive and a pleasant excitement appeared between your thighs at the thought of how good it would be to feel it inside you. Now, however, you wanted to give him what he deserved.

You licked his tip, then took it into your mouth, sucking lightly. A slightly salty aftertaste filled your mouth. You closed your eyes, pushing it deeper, you didn't even feel when Joel's hand brushed your hair away and held you.

"Wait." he panted. "This is better than what I thought... Fuck."

He needed time. It had been a while since someone had taken care of him like this, he was afraid he would finish sooner than he wanted. 

But you seemed to sense it. Your tongue gently stroked his cock as you slid it in and out of your mouth. 

Joel's quiet moans filled the room. His hips began to move, slowly so as not to hurt you. When you took him so deep that you felt him at the back of your throat, and your nose touched his lower abdomen, his fingers in your hair tightened.

"Fuck. Fuck..." he panted. "Your mouth will be the death of me, baby... I won't last long."

You moaned quietly, and the vibrations went straight to his core.

You opened your eyes and saw Joel's dark as night gaze. His brows furrowed, his chest heaving violently. He cursed again quietly as your hand grabbed his balls, caressing them.

He was close, you could feel it. His hips pushed his cock into your mouth, but he was still trying not to hurt you. When you choked and tears welled up in your eyes, Joel immediately withdrew.

"I'm sorry, fuck, you feel so good... Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head "No, it's fine. Don't worry about me."

Your lips wrapped around his cock again, and Joel tilted his head back. He didn't need much.

"Shit! I'm gonna come, baby..." he gasped with difficulty "If you don't want to... I have to pull out… Fuck!"

But you didn't pull away. You held him when after a few thrusts you felt a warm spurt in your throat. You swallowed, sliding his cock out of your mouth and licking the tip with your tongue.

Joel was breathing heavily, his dark eyes never leaving your face. He helped you stand up and before you could catch your breath he pressed his lips to yours.

A hot tongue forced itself between your lips, eliciting the filthiest moan that had ever left your throat. He didn't mind the taste of himself on your lips, it was even kind of arousing.

"Fuck, what are you doing to me?" he gasped as he pulled away from you to catch his breath.

"Same thing you're doing to me." you replied, smiling.

The loud chatter coming from the yard quickly brought you back to reality. The workers had returned from lunch. Joel adjusted his pants and you grabbed your purse.

"About dinner..." he began uncertainly.

"We'll be in touch." you replied, and he smiled.

You headed towards the door and were already in the hallway when you saw Tommy in front of you. He was holding the box with the purchased products in his arms and looking at you with wide eyes.

"Ummm... I brought Joel his phone." You said quickly trying to hide your confusion.

"Sure." he replied and his eyes went to your dusty knees.

You just nodded goodbye and quickly went downstairs. Tommy was now looking at his older brother.

"Don't say a fucking word." Joel grumbled running his hand through his hair and trying to hide his embarrassment.

A sly smile appeared on Tommy's lips "That lipstick color really suits you, Joel." he laughed.

Joel rubbed his hand over his mouth and saw the remnants of your lipstick on the back of his hand.

"Not a fucking word." he mumbled taking the box from Tommy "We have work to do."

[part 3] soon

☆☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist: @wandavisionx

[fragileruns]

Hii, I saw your last post and I thought why not send a request? Here is my idea: single dad!Spencer/Reader. Spencer brings his daughter to the BAU during a paperwork day, his daughter meets Reader for the first time. Reader is not used to being around children, so they (you can keep it gender neutral if you want to) are a bit awkward aand shy. But of course Spencer's daughter wants to be their friend because Spencer always tells his daughter how amazing Reader is. I'll leave the rest up to your imagination, thank you for reading and writing this, I'm sure it will turn out better than I imagined <33

i’m so sorry this is actually awful because i’m also terrible with kids and have no idea how situations go about with them haha - hopefully it’s somewhat what you wanted, though!

spencer reid x bau!reader. featuring his daughter, derek, brief mention of emily, y/n & spencer being flustered over their situationships, reader is mentioned to have a bunny, i think that’s it? it’s just fluff

You thought you had to be imagining things when you heard a voice - one that could only belong to a little kid - ask “Which one’s Y/N?”

You weren’t, and one glance around the room confirmed that. You saw Spencer bent down, messing with a little girl’s hair, who you could only assume was his daughter. Once he looked up to point over at you and gave you an almost apologetic smile, your eyes widened and you realized too late what was happening.

“Be nice, okay? Don’t be too crazy.” You could hear him tell you, and your nerves were fighting with you as you tried to plan for what was going to happen. What are you supposed to say to a little kid? You hardly knew what to say to people your age.

“‘M always nice, Dad,” The little girl sighed with a slight huff as he still held onto her and he only chuckled, placing a kiss to the top of her head before he let her go. Immediately, she was rushing over to you with a grin.

“Y/N!” She sounded so excited that you almost questioned if you were some sort of child tv show star. Why would she even be looking for you? You’ve never met.

“Hi, Max. Right?” You smiled down at her, and she nodded eagerly. You could hear Spencer’s footsteps approaching, and you were thankful that at least if you were a total bore to her, he could save her.

“Daddy told me that you, um, that you got a new bunny. Can I see it?”

You nodded and went to grab your phone to show her the pictures you got, and you almost wanted to laugh at the innocence of the interaction. You didn’t expect a child to be so eager just to see pictures of your new pet.

You also didn’t expect for you to be a topic of conversation in the Reid household, and Spencer seemed to fluster at the idea of you knowing as much.

“She just - she really likes bunnies, so when you were showing pictures the other day, I wanted to - yeah. I just told her,” He said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, and you smiled up at him before turning back to his daughter.

“You can come see him one day, maybe. If your dad’s okay with bringing you over.”

You and Spencer both seemed surprised at your invitation, and you weren’t entirely sure where it had come from. Spencer had never been to your house before. It seemed too intimate, almost, for the weird type of situationship you two found yourself in.

Max gasped with excitement and turned up to her father, “Please? Can we go today, Dad? Please please please?”

“I don’t think they meant today, sweetheart. Maybe some other day though, okay?” He tried to calm the little girl, before turning back to you. “If you’re really okay with that.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.” You grinned, placing your phone back on your desk now that Max was done swiping through the pictures.

Derek walked by then, and as soon as he came up to your desk and noticed the little girl standing there, he made a dramatic gasp. “Max? Since when did you get to be a giant?”

She giggled and quickly ran for his legs, tackling into them with a tight hug, “Hi, Uncle Derek.”

You were thankful for the reprieve, worried that now you didn’t have the prospect of seeing a bunny in your conversation, you’d have nothing else to say to her.

“Daddy’s gonna take me to see Y/N’s bunny.” She said, the child in her shining through at the need to tell every little thing, but you didn’t mind. You sort of liked that you had something to make her so excited.

Derek looked up at the two of you with a grin, and you both knew what was coming. He had been too eager to tease the two of you about being ‘lovebirds’ even when you vehemently denied it. This was only more fuel.

“You sure you’re invited to go with him?” Derek had questioned, but Max didn’t understand the implication.

“‘Course I am, Uncle Derek. It’s a bunny.”

“Yeah, Derek. It’s a bunny.” You spoke up, eyes narrowed at him in a way that told him not to push it further, but the chuckle that left him told you he wasn’t done.

“Hey, kiddo, why don’t we go see Aunt Emily? Let your dad and Y/N keep planning their date.”

“It’s not-” Spencer had started but Derek looked at him with an innocent expression.

“Playdate, obviously. For Max and the bunny.” Spencer’s cheeks were flushed pink, and yours were too, as Derek broke into a grin.

“Yeah, Dad. Obviously.” Max mimicked before eagerly following after Derek to find Emily, leaving you and Spencer avoiding eye contact with equally red cheeks.