#Professional Rock Breaking

[willungaearthmoving]

Top-Quality Rock Breaking Services for Adelaide Projects

Willunga Earthmoving: Your Expert Partner for Rock Breaking in Adelaide

When it comes to professional rock-breaking services in Adelaide, Willunga Earthmoving is your trusted local expert. We are a family-owned and operated business with over 25 years of experience as licensed general builders, ensuring top-quality workmanship and friendly service. Our team is dedicated to providing the best solutions for your rock-breaking needs. Whether your project involves excavations, construction, or land development, we have the skills and equipment to handle it all.

At Willunga Earthmoving, we offer an array of earthmoving services, including specialised rock breaking, to clients in Adelaide and its surrounding regions. Our dedication to efficiency, safety, and professionalism sets us apart, making us the preferred choice for all your rock-breaking needs. Your project’s success is our top priority.

Rock Breaking Services in Adelaide: Transforming Tough Terrain

Our rock-breaking services are tailored to tackle the most challenging terrains and provide effective solutions for various construction and earthmoving projects. We understand the unique demands of dealing with hard and rocky surfaces in Adelaide, and we offer specialised expertise for the following applications:

Site Preparation: If your construction site is hindered by rocky outcrops, our rock-breaking services ensure a level and secure foundation for your project.

Excavation: In rocky terrains, our rock-breaking expertise simplifies the removal and management of rocks, facilitating smooth excavation.

Foundation Work: Constructing strong foundations requires the removal of rocks, and our rock-breaking services guarantee a stable base for your structures.

Land Clearing: Whether you’re developing land or landscaping, our rock-breaking services turn rocky landscapes into usable spaces.

The Benefits of Choosing Willunga Earthmoving for Rock Breaking in Adelaide

Why should you choose Willunga Earthmoving for your rock-breaking needs in Adelaide? Here are the compelling reasons:

Safety First:- Your safety and that of our team are paramount. We adhere to strict safety measures to ensure secure work environments. Qualified Team:- Our operators are fully qualified, licensed, and highly skilled, guaranteeing expert rock-breaking services. Compliance and Insurance:- Willunga Earthmoving is fully insured and compliant with current industry standards, offering peace of mind throughout your project. Family-Owned Values:- As a family-owned business with over 25 years in the construction industry, we treat your project as if it were our own, delivering excellent customer support, premium service, and workmanship. Diverse Equipment Fleet:- Our extensive equipment fleet ensures we have the right tools for every job, regardless of size or complexity. Customised Project Solutions: We recognise that every project is unique. We work closely with you to understand your specific needs and provide tailored solutions for your project’s success.

For More Information:-

Address:- Willunga, Adelaide- Australia

Contact :- 0405 256 938

[missingexaltation]

Fic idea (because I can't get enough of rockstar!Eddie, apparently)

Steve and Eddie try dating, but it quickly goes nowhere as Steve is just too busy. If he's not driving the kids around, he's doing chores for Mrs Henderson, or hanging out with Robin, or at work. And the free time he DOES have never correlates to when Eddie's free. They keep missing each other and Steve finally (gently) breaks up with Eddie because they just never see each other.

A few weeks pass and Steve misses him so much it hurts. Even the hour or so at a time that they used to get would be enough. And it's not forever, maybe soon they could move in together, get their own place and see each other all the time. And the girls are off to college soon, so that's MORE time together. He was an idiot to break up.

He goes to the new Munson house to try and get Eddie back only to find out that he's gone. Wayne tells him that he's going to Cali with Jonathan and Argyle, and that's that.

Steve's devastated.

The next time Nancy goes to see Jonathan he and Robin tag along, but Eddie's not there. Jonathan hasn't seen him in a few days, he's busy with his new band, and they're actually really good. Steve spends the rest of the time in Cali hoping Eddie will show up...but he doesn't. Steve goes home to Hawkins feeling worse than ever.

A few weeks later, Nancy excitedly tells him that Jonathan said that Eddie's band has been signed up, or signed on, or something, and that's a big fucking deal. They're recording an album and they might hear him on the radio, and Eddie might be famous.

It IS a big deal, Steve DOES hear him on the radio, and the band DOES get famous.

It happens too quickly for Steve to deal with, and shuts himself down a little. He still misses Eddie so much, and now there's no chance he'll ever see him again. He's just a dumbass with no future, and Eddie's out there living his best life as making his dreams come true. Robin and Nancy leave for college at the same time this all happens, and Steve's left hating himself for being stuck behind.

He hears the band's debut single all the time, but he tries not to focus on it. Their singer is really good, she's the main focus, but all Steve can hear is Eddie in the backing vocals and guitar and its too much.

Jonathan invites them all back to Cali for one of the band's shows, (they're only the support act but still, it's the support for a really famous rock band), and Steve agrees to go. He stands in the crowd, surrounded by people in black, leather and chic, and hates himself a tiny bit more. This is Eddie's world and he doesn't fit in it, doesn't belong in it.

The show is spectacular, leagues above what corroded coffin used to do, and Steve's eyes don't leave Eddie once. After the band leaves the stage, Jonathan drags them all backstage, though Steve tries to leave, and for the first time in months Steve comes face to face with his ex.

Eddie's bouncing around, on some adrenaline high, laughing his head off until he sees Steve. His smile drops and he looks like the devastated boy that Steve had left broken hearted all those months ago. And if Steve didn't hate himself before, he does now. That's the effect he has on the guy he loves, just the sight of him upsets Eddie. So instead of saying anything...he chickens out and runs.

He doesn't expect Eddie to follow him, but he does, dragging them both into an empty room. Steve can't even get a word out before he just flings himself into Eddie's arms and sobs. He says a lot of things as he cries, trying to explain himself, but none of it makes any sense to his own ears. Eddie clings to him in return, and it's not until Steve's composed himself that he realises that Eddie's crying too.

They just cling to each other until someone comes to tell Eddie that they're leaving for the hotel, and Eddie insists that Steve comes too. They spend the night together, figuring themselves out, and it all comes to a head when Eddie asks if Steve had heard their single. Steve says he has and that he...likes it? Eddie laughs at him softly and cuddles him closer.

It's about Steve, he explains, because of course it is. It's the song that Eddie had written both before and after they'd broken up. It's a song about being completely in love...but then dealing with being broken hearted. And apparently it struck a chord with both the talent scout that had 'discovered' them, and the rest of the world that related to it enough to make it popular.

They agree to try again.

Eddie's band don't warm to him for some time, and neither does Wayne, but Steve's right by Eddie's side as the band goes from a small-time support band to full rockstars in their own right over the next few years. He's not making the same mistake twice, and neither is Eddie. They both let go too easily the first time, and they won't let go again.

Steve and Eddie get 'unlawfully married' on their fifth anniversary in '91, and finally gains Wayne's acceptance. The band have also gotten used to him by this point, and jokingly refer to him as the 'non musical' member of the band.

An injury to both the band's vocalist and drummer brings the band to a natural end in '06. The band's popularity carries on though a very vocal cult fanbase due to a) their singer and rhythm guitarist being two of the few venerated women in their genre and b) Eddie being very open about his sexuality and 'unlawful husband'.

Eddie settles down with Steve in a quiet part of the country, and finds himself at a bit of a loss. It's not until he rediscovers D&D that he finds purpose again, and ends up writing a few campaigns that get published. His fame is good for something after all.

Steve suggests he test them out on the old Hellfire club (because of course Steve's still in contact with most of them), and by 2010 the gang's permanently back together. They sometimes play D&D in person, but most of it's through Skype.

One of the club suggests (after a particularly hilarious session) that they record it for a podcast, and although it starts slow, because of Eddie's fame it soon gets pretty popular. Every member of the club gets their own little fanbase and merch (even Steve, as the long suffering 'normal hubby').

Eddie's happy, Steve's happy, and they get legally married in 2016, on their 30th anniversary.

[moonshynecybin]

What do you think about Vales hypocrite tendencies like everything he has criticised Marc for is something he himself has done like i try to figure it out and give up because i think he’s slightly insane and that’s what make him fun to watch but I do feel bad for Marc being on the other side of that like the title loss on 2015 really fucked with Vale and in turn really fucked up Marc but in a totally different ways

i think it’s hot

[woolydemon]

You know you got the brainrot bad when u read a fic interpretation of Apollo insisting it's called a "stepladder" and u go "NO. APOLLO CALLS IT A LADDER U DONT UNDERSTAND HIM AT ALL-"

[holy-anxiety-batman]

born to scroll tumblr cursed to pack

[pucksandpower]

Settle Down

Oscar Piastri x Red Bull driver!Reader

Summary: sometimes there’s so much energy drink flowing through your veins that you’re physically incapable of sitting still, but Oscar always has a way of helping you settle down

You can’t sit still, as usual. Even though you’re supposed to be relaxing in the Red Bull motorhome between practice sessions, you’re bouncing around like a pinball, fueled by way too many energy drinks.

“Babe, can you please try to calm down for five minutes?” Oscar sighs, though there’s an amused smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Your boyfriend has endless patience when it comes to your hyperactive tendencies.

“I can’t help it!” You protest, nearly vibrating out of your skin with pent-up energy. “My body is literally powered by Red Bull!”

Oscar raises an eyebrow. “Is that so? Well in that case ...” He gets up from the couch and pulls you into his arms, holding you still against his chest. You let out a grumbling noise of frustration but don’t fight it as he rocks you gently back and forth.

“This is undignified. I’m a professional race car driver, you know,” you grumble, even as you start to feel your racing heart slow thanks to Oscar’s soothing presence.

“A professional menace, more like,” he teases. “But you’re my menace.”

You swat at his arm half-heartedly. “I’m surprised you can even stand being around me. I must drive you crazy.”

“On the contrary, I quite enjoy the challenge of trying to tame you.” Oscar grins wolfishly and pulls you even closer. His warm brown eyes are filled with open affection. “Though I have to admit, sometimes you exhaust even me.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t try so hard,” you retort, though you make no move to pull away from his embrace. If you’re being honest, having Oscar’s strong arms wrapped around you is the only thing that ever really makes you feel calm and grounded.

He sees right through your bravado as always. “You know that’s not true. This is the only way I can get you to hold still for five seconds.”

Oscar brushes a stray lock of hair out of your face, letting his fingertips linger on your cheek. You shiver slightly at his gentle touch. Even after two years of dating, the chemistry between you is as electric as ever.

“Well?” He prompts after a few moments of contented silence. “Feeling a bit more settled now, my kangaroo?”

You make a face at the teasing nickname but have to admit he’s right. Already you can feel the frantic buzzing under your skin starting to dissipate thanks to Oscar’s calming presence and soothing caresses.

“Maybe a little,” you concede grudgingly. You lean further into his embrace, resting your head on his shoulder with a contented sigh. “You always did have a weird power over me.”

“Just be glad I only use my powers for good and not evil,” Oscar quips. He brushes a light kiss over your forehead and you melt even further into his arms.

You’re both quiet for a little while, just enjoying each other’s closeness and the rare moment of peace before the storm of tomorrow’s qualifying. At last Oscar breaks the comfortable silence.

“You know, I’ve been thinking ...”

You tense a little at his words, knowing from experience that those four little words are often the precursor to something you may not want to hear. “That’s never a good sign,” you mutter warily.

Oscar huffs out a quiet laugh. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. At least I don’t think so ...” He takes a deep breath like he’s steeling himself. “I was just wondering … have you ever thought about us getting married someday?”

You stiffen in surprise, definitely not expecting that. “Married?” You pull back just enough to get a better look at his face, searching his expression for any signs he might be joking. But Oscar just gazes at you steadily, pure sincerity in his warm eyes.

“You’re really asking me that? Right now?” You blink rapidly, trying to get your whirling thoughts under control.

“Well, why not?” Oscar says simply. “We’ve been together for two years, we’re both doing well in our careers. And you know how I feel about you. What’s holding us back from making it permanent?”

“I … I don’t know,” you admit, momentarily at a complete loss for words — which is rare for you. “I guess I’ve just never really thought about it before. I mean, you know how single-minded I can get when it comes to racing.”

“And you think I’m not the same way?” Oscar arches an eyebrow. “Believe me, babe, I understand that drive and ambition better than anyone. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have both career success and a lasting relationship. I know I want you by my side for all of it.”

His words make your heart flutter rapidly against your ribs. You search Oscar’s face, looking for any hint of doubt or hesitation. But you see nothing but sincerity, determination, and that all-consuming love and devotion he’s only ever directed at you.

Slowly, a brilliant smile spreads across your face. “Oscar Piastri … are you proposing to me right here in the Red Bull motorhome?”

At your words, Oscar dips his head sheepishly, a faint blush coloring those charmingly sharp cheekbones of his. “I, ah … I didn’t actually mean for it to come out like that, to be honest. I really did just want to gauge how you felt about the idea first before making any actual proposals.”

“Well, that was a terrible job of it then,” you tease, feeling a smug satisfaction at having flustered the normally cool and composed Oscar Piastri for once. “I’m afraid you’ve well and truly proposed now, sir, there’s no taking it back.”

“Is that so?” Oscar’s eyes sparkle with sudden mirth, that wolfish grin creeping across his face again. “Well then, in that case ...”

He pulls you close once more until you’re pressed flush against him. “Y/N Y/L/N,” he begins in a low, throaty rumble that sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine. “Will you make me the happiest man in the paddock and agree to be my wife?”

There’s a heavy pause as you simply gaze into Oscar’s eyes, caught up in the sheer depth of emotion swirling in their depths. Those beautiful brown pools are filled with unbridled adoration, devotion, and a love so palpable and all-consuming it almost steals your breath away.

Slowly, you lean in until your foreheads are resting together, noses brushing in an intimate caress. When you finally find your voice again to answer, it emerges as a hushed, reverent whisper.

“Yes … god, yes, Oscar. Of course I’ll marry you.”

A brilliant smile breaks across Oscar’s face, brighter and more dazzling than the sun. He crushes you to him once more, arms wrapped so tightly around you that it feels like he’s trying to meld the two of you into one being through sheer force of will.

You don’t know how long you stay like that, just holding each other close and reveling in this new promise stretching out before you both. It could be seconds or it could be hours lost in the endless depth of emotion and sensation sparked by Oscar’s touch and fervent kisses.

At long last, you force yourself to pull away, just enough to meet his gaze with a impish grin. “You know, we’re going to have to tell our teams about this. Can you just imagine the reactions?”

Oscar chuckles, tucking an errant strand of hair behind your ear with utmost tenderness. “I can only imagine. Though they’ll likely be more shocked it took us this long, to be honest.”

You laugh freely at that, nodding in acknowledgment. “Fair point. We haven’t exactly been subtle about our feelings for each other over the years.”

“Not at all,” Oscar agrees with a wry smirk, raising your joined hands to brush a feather-light kiss across your knuckles. Despite his teasing words, his eyes are soft with pure adoration. “But you’re worth being unsubtle for. I would shout my feelings from the rooftops if you asked me to.”

You feel a blush heating your cheeks at his ardent sincerity. “Good thing I’m not asking then. I’d hate to have to share you with the entire world.”

“Never,” Oscar vows fervently, pulling you close once more. “You have my heart, kangaroo. You’ve had it from the moment we met. It will always be yours, for as long as you’ll have me.”

“Then I guess you’d better get used to me holding on to it forever,” you murmur, grinning up at him with sparkling eyes. “Because I’m never letting you go, Mr. Piastri.”

Oscar’s returning smile is brilliant and full of devotion. “That’s the plan, future Mrs. Piastri.”

He leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss that leaves you both breathless and clinging to each other. When you finally part, foreheads resting together, Oscar brushes the pad of his thumb over your swollen lips with a look of such tender wonder that your heart clenches.

“God, I love you,” he rasps out, voice low and throaty with emotion. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you by my side.”

You feel your own eyes stinging with happy tears at his words. “I love you too,” you whisper back fervently. “More than I could ever say.”

For a long moment you simply gaze at each other, caught up in the overwhelming love and emotion sparking between you. Then you let out a watery laugh, swiping at the treacherous tears escaping the corners of your eyes.

“We’re being totally ridiculous, you know that?” you say with a teasing grin. “Two grown adults, crying like lovesick teenagers in the middle of a team motorhome.”

Oscar chuckles, brushing away the dampness on your cheeks with gentle fingers. “I think we’ve earned the right to be a little ridiculous on the day we decide to spend forever together, don’t you?”

You have to concede he has a point. Heaving an exaggerated sigh, you curl further into his embrace, reveling in the steadying warmth and strength of his arms around you. “I suppose that’s fair. Though you’d better prepare yourself for a lifetime of dealing with my particular brand of ridiculousness.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Oscar says simply, dropping another soft kiss on your upturned lips.

You hum into the kiss, all the frantic energy that had thrummed under your skin earlier now replaced with an unparalleled sense of peace and contentment. It seems Oscar’s trick of using gentle caresses and soothing touches to calm you is finally complete — he’s managed to lull you into a state of perfect tranquility simply by promising to be yours forever.

As if he can read your thoughts, Oscar murmurs against your hairline, “There, you see? I knew I could get you to settle down one of these days.”

You let out an amused snort, not even trying to deny his teasing words. There’s no point — you both know Oscar has an almost preternatural ability to silence the constant buzz in your mind and body with just his presence alone. He’s the only one who can slip past your whirlwind defenses and soothe your restless spirit into a state of true serenity.

“Yes, alright, you win,” you concede drowsily, the combination of Oscar’s warmth and steady heartbeat under your ear lulling you into a state of contented haze. “You’ve officially tamed me. I’m defenseless against you.”

“Good,” Oscar rumbles, sounding immensely satisfied as he tightens his arms around you possessively. “I’ll be sure to take full advantage of that from now until forever.”

And somehow, despite the teasing lilt to his words, you know with certainty that he means every syllable. With a contented sigh, you let your eyes drift shut, feeling more at peace than you ever have as you melt into the protective circle of your new fiance’s embrace.

Yes, you think hazily as the tension finally seeps from your body entirely. This wonderful and beautifully stabilizing man is going to be yours forever … and you can’t wait.

[stealthetrees]

You know what? Fuck that.

Marshal Commander Fox is entirely unhinged. Batshit crazy. He hides it extremely well under a rock solid mask of professionalism but the second he is out of sight he will be doing something illegal.

If questioned Fox will simply say “Government property can’t break the law” or It’s not murder if I’m not a person”

He commits treason daily and has definitely murdered people.

He faked Fives’ death and regrets it because he and Dogma are too chaotic together. He fakes so many deaths. He got his grubby little hands on an entire squad of commandos somehow.

This headcanon is the ‘prove me wrong’ kind of canon compliant and I will not take criticism.

[coolemmasulivan2]

It's Always You

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: You and Lando share a mutual attraction, but you've kept things professional due to career implications. However, after his first win race, things may change, blurring the lines between friendship and something more.

Word count: 6013

Author's note: First time writing about Lando. I started writing this on the day of the Miami Sprint and then when he won the next day I told myself I would publish it. Tell me what you think.

It's you, it's always you Met a lot of people, but nobody feels like you So please don't break my heart, don't tear me apart

Miami heat wrapped around you like a steamy August day and even if American tracks weren't your thing, the paddock was definitely one of your favourites.

Working with McLaren since 2019 felt like winning the lottery. Travel, new faces, and a taste of different cultures – it was everything you dreamed of. Hospitality put you in the middle of it all – the team, the fans, even the families. Being young, you clicked quickly with the drivers: Carlos and Lando from the start, and Oscar when he joined.

Carlos was your rock, a protective older brother even after his move to Ferrari. Daniel was a blast, always making you laugh with his great sense of humor, and Oscar's calm personality mirrored yours. He became your trackside best friend, sharing everything over coffee and off-track adventures with his girlfriend, Lily.

Then there was Lando. Your relationship with Lando was different. Unlike Carlos, you saw him not as a brother, but as a friend... friends that had feelings for each other.

He was shy at first, stealing glances when you weren't looking. But time made his shyness disappear. Flirting became his game, playful touches here and there and unexpected hugs wherever he felt like it. You ignored the signs until his confession left you speechless in the middle of the night in Monaco.

"I have something I need to tell you." He said.

It was 2020. Monaco was hot that night. Everyone at the team dinner was buzzing about the upcoming classic Monaco Grand Prix. Like always, after the dinner, Lando offered to walk you back to the hotel where the team was staying – nothing new. You even joked about Carlos doing the same thing.

Like all the other times, you didn't think much about the gesture. It was something he used to do, and in your head, it was just a friend helping the other. After all, Carlos did it from time to time. Why should it be any different with Lando?

"What's up?" You asked, the streetlights shining on his face. "Getting nervous about the race? The car feels amazing, right?"

Lando messed with his hair. Your voice, normally like music to him, made him forget what to say. "Uh, no, not the race."

"Then what is it? Now I'm the one freaking out." You tried to lighten the mood with a laugh. "Did you lose your house key again? You're not staying with me."

He wished you'd just be quiet. "Fuck, Y/N!" He blurted out. "I like you." The words came out fast, just like his orange F1 car. Did you hear him right? When he saw the surprise on your face, he knew you had. "I, uh, I mean more than a friend." He stammered. "Like, a lot. You're always in my head, even in my dreams. All the fucking time. I can't even look at other girls because you're all I see. I just had to tell you. I couldn't keep it in any longer."

You suddenly froze, your heart pounding like a drum solo. Time seemed to slow down, with only the two of you and the warm glow of the streetlights as the real things around. You wanted to speak, but the words simply wouldn't come out.

"Please say something!" Lando begged, his voice shaky. "Anything! Even if you don't like me back, just tell me. But don't let this mess up our friendship!"

It didn't destroy your friendship, but it sent your world spinning. You realized your little crush on the driver was a full-blown fire, and with each passing year, the flames only licked higher. But every time Lando flirted, the same words you had said to him tumbled out: "It's inappropriate."

He hated those words. He'd always argue with you about it. "Come on, I like you and I know you like me too. I know it! Who cares about work? We can keep it quiet. It can be our secret." He always had a solution for every worry, but you remained strong.

You wanted to believe that you could remain strong.

The problem was, your feelings were turning into a rebellion. Keeping them bottled up was a losing battle, and you weren't sure how much longer you could resist the pressure from the driver.

Lando strutted into the paddock beside you, his black clothes and crisp white shirt doing nothing to hide his cocky grin. "Finally figured out why I haven't won a race yet." He announced, his cologne a heady wave in your direction.

You peeked over your sunglasses. "Oh yeah, Sherlock? What's the conclusion?"

He leaned close, his voice a low rumble. "No good luck kiss from you, that's what! Maybe we should fix that? Make it a tradition if it works."

A laugh escaped you. "So it's my fault, huh?"

"Exactly!" He grinned. "And if I lose again without a kiss, everyone's gonna hear about it."

"That's your best shot at flirting?" You teased. "Seriously, Lando, you're terrible."

A playful smirk tugged at his lips. He draped his arm around your shoulder, leading you towards the McLaren hospitality area. "The only girl I flirt with is you, love. Guess you'll have to show me how to improve."

Heat flooded your cheeks, betraying your fake indifference. Lando wasn't an idiot. He knew you felt the same way, a truth as clear as the Miami sunshine.

A booming voice shattered the playful tension. "Whoa there, puppet, keep your hands off of her!"

Carlos emerged behind you, clad in his new Ferrari blues. You turned to see him glaring at Lando, who simply scoffed and moved away, the arm around your shoulder replaced by Carlos's protective arm.

He leaned down, a quick peck on your head followed by a wink aimed at Lando, who rolled his eyes with a playful huff.

"Or what?" Lando challenged.

Carlos pretended to consider, then grinned. "Or I'll run you off the track at the race. And don't even think about getting jealous. It's a bad look on you."

Agree to disagree, you thought. Jealousy did look good on him. The way he tapped his foot impatiently, the way he chewed his lip with a focused intensity – those were the subtle giveaways that made your heart skip a beat.

"Leave him alone, Sainz!" You swatted playfully at Carlos' chest, the contact sending a blush blooming across your cheeks.

"Oh, look who's defending the love bird." He teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You blushed once again. "Shut up." You whispered.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Lando fighting a smile as you continued towards McLaren hospitality. A quick goodbye to Carlos later, you disappeared inside, ready for your daily tasks. Lando watched you go, his gaze lingering long after you were out of sight.

When he finally turned back to his friend, Carlos was waiting, arms crossed, a knowing smirk plastered across his face. "What?"

"Ugh, the both of you." Carlos rolled his eyes. "All this mooning and staring, it's getting pathetic. Just take her out, will you?"

Lando sighed. "I've been trying for years. It's always 'inappropriate.'"

"Well, try harder!" Carlos pressed. "Last thing you need is someone else catching her eye."

Lando's playful demeanor vanished. "What do you mean?" He pressed, a sudden seriousness tightening his features. Carlos simply offered him a pat on the shoulder before walking away, leaving Lando with a gnawing sense of unease. "Hey, what do you mean?"

The sprint had been a disaster. It all ended so quickly that it didn't give him enough time to think, no chance to catch Max and the others at the front. To make matters worse, the Stewards imposed a heavy fine of €50,000 for crossing the track while the rave was still ongoing.

Later, back at the hotel, he was torn between feeling exhausted and frustrated. A cold shower did little to wash away the bitter taste of defeat. He pulled on fresh clothes and collapsed onto the bed. Closing his eyes, he focused on the tension leaving his body, hoping for a moment of peace.

A loud ringing sound shattered the silence and startled him out of his daze. He groaned as he searched for his phone, buried somewhere in the crumpled sheets.

Y/n: Hey, Oscar and I are planning to watch a movie and grab some food. Wanna join us? We're in my bedroom.

Lando smile, looking at your text.

Lando: You know I like you. You shouldn't tell me when you have other guys in your bedroom. It breaks my heart.

Although he couldn't see you, he was certain you were rolling your eyes after reading his message. 

Y/n: Shut up and get your ass here.

A laugh escaped Lando's lips as he pushed himself out of bed. He stalked over to the mirror, running a hand through his damp curls. With a flick of the switch, the room dropped into darkness, and Lando walked out of his room.

Your room was on a different floor, but soon a familiar knock came at your door. Your heart kicked into a familiar rapid-fire beat as you swung the door open.

"Hi!"

"Hey, beautiful." He cupped your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "Osc!" He jumped in your bed and in one smooth motion, he snagged a chip from the bowl you'd set on the nightstand.

"Hey. What do you feel like watching?" He quickly looked through your Netflix library, skipping over the typical romantic comedy options.

"Anything but that mushy stuff." Lando declared, earning a playful jab from you.

"Take your shoes off the bed, Lando!"

He chuckled, kicking off his sneakers. He leaned back against the headboard, his gaze lingering on you for a second too long. You were a black Simpsons shirt and matching sporty shorts, your bare feet resting comfortably on the cool sheets. A small anchor could be seen on your ankle, sparking his imagination about what other hidden treasures lay beneath your clothes.

The spell was broken by a knock on the door. With a quick smile, you ran toward the door, returning moments later with a stack of takeout boxes. 

You settled next to Lando on the bed, while Oscar sprawled out at the foot like a contented cat. With the Avengers movie playing softly in the background, you devoured your food, a comfortable silence settling around the three of you.

Two hours passed by quickly as the credits rolled. Oscar groaned and got off the bed. You mimicked his stretch, feeling the pleasant ache of a relaxed evening.

"Looks like someone's having a sleepover!" Oscar teased, pointing a playful finger at Lando. The driver was sprawled across your pillow, a peaceful look on his face.

A soft gasp escaped your lips. "Oh, Lando!" you whispered, torn between amusement and a flicker of panic. He looked undeniably adorable, a mess of soft curls framing his face. You glanced at Oscar, who was already pulling on his sneakers. "We have to wake him up, right?"

Oscar chuckled, a knowing glint in his eyes. "We? Seems pretty comfy to me, Y/N. Let the man enjoy his rest." He started towards the door, but you reached out.

"Wait, where are you going? He can't stay here." Panic bubbled in your chest. The thought of him sleeping in your bed sent shivers down your spine.

"So wake him up!"

Your cheeks flushed crimson. "I… I don't want to wake him." The words came out a soft mumble, barely audible.

Oscar leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Then don't. Trust me, asleep is the only state he'll stay put. Besides, wouldn't you rather wake up to a grateful cuddle buddy in the morning?"He winked, leaving you speechless, alone with the British driver.

Oh my god, you screamed to yourself.

You tiptoed around the room, unsure of your next move. Finally, drawn by a strange magnetism, you found yourself kneeling by the bed.

Lando's serene face was illuminated by the soft bedside lamp. His chest rose and fell gently in sleep, a single black curl escaping the gentle mess of his hair.

An irresistible urge to touch him washed over you. Without thinking about it, your fingers reached out, tentatively brushing against the perfect curl. As if sensing the intrusion, Lando stirred, and his brow furrowed slightly. You quickly retreated to the bathroom, heart pounding as you slammed the door carefully behind you.

Leaning against the door, you let out a shaky breath. You hurriedly changed into pyjamas, suddenly aware of how thin they felt compared to your day clothes. But it was hot, and you hadn't brought anything else.

Peeking through the crack in the door, you peeked out, praying for the best. Relief flooded you when you saw Lando, thankfully still asleep, but now facing the other side of the bed.

You were wondering if that little couch in the corner was worth sleeping on. It looked quite small and uninviting. Sleep on that uncomfortable excuse of furniture, or share the bed with Lando? The answer, realistically, was obvious. 

You climbed in, scooting over as far as possible to create a respectable amount of distance from the body next to you. Sleep, thankfully, came quickly. Maybe it was the exhaustion from the day, or perhaps the unexpected warmth and sense of security that came with having Lando beside you, but you drifted off faster than usual.

Sunlight, snuck into the room, painting stripes across Lando's face. He blinked, momentarily disoriented. Hadn't he closed those curtains last night? He sat up, surprise jolting through him as he realized he wasn't in his own bed.

Even more shocking was the sight beside him. You, cuddle against him, your thin pyjamas offering little to make him look away. One of your legs peeked out from under the discarded sheet, and Lando felt a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the morning sun.

What in the world? How had he ended up, tangled in your sheets? A quick glance around revealed his phone abandoned on the nightstand. It was still early, but Jon would be expecting him in his room soon. He needed to get out, get cleaned up and get ready for the day. But leaving felt like ripping himself away from something precious.

He stole a glance at you. Your face, relaxed and peaceful, was turned towards him. A stray strand of hair tickled your cheek. Hesitantly, he reached out, tucking it behind your ear.  The touch, light as a feather, was enough to stir you awake.

Lando didn't flinch and when you fluttered your eyes open, his face was inches away. A wave of yearning swept through you, a desire for more mornings waking up beside him.

"Did I die and go to heaven last night?" His voice, husky with sleep, sent shivers down your spine.

"You fell asleep." You admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "And I didn't have the heart to wake you up."

"Right." He breathed the word out, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. His hand reached out, cupping your cheek with a tenderness that both surprised and delighted you. A blush crept up your neck as he murmured, "Lucky me." Then, a sigh escaped his lips. "I have to go. Jon will be at my room any minute."

You nodded and smiled, despite the disappointment tugging at your heart. You watched as he hesitately rose, groaning at leaving your bed. His hair was a mess of adorable curls, and his rumpled clothes added a touch of vulnerability that made him look even more adorable.

He grabbed his phone and sneakers and then paused, a playful smirk on his face. "So, about that lucky kiss for good luck?" He teased, a hint of hope lacing his voice. "We already slept together!"

"Go!" You muttered.

"Fine, fine." He chuckled. "See you later, love."

He turned towards the door, and an impulsive urge surged through you. Before you could overthink it, you were out of bed and racing towards him. He reached for the doorknob, but you were faster, grabbing his arm and spinning him around.

For a moment, confusion clouded his features, but it quickly melted into surprise as you planted a kiss on his cheek. It was a chaste kiss, lingering just a beat too long to be considered entirely platonic. When you pulled away, his eyes held a mixture of shock and something deeper.

"There's your lucky kiss." You whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "Now go."

Lando stood speechless for a moment, the kiss still tingling on his skin. Then, a slow smile spread across his face "Today is a day full of opportunities." He declared.

With one last lingering look, he opened the door and disappeared into the hallway. You leaned against the wall, your heart pounding against your ribs.

You had never felt more nervous before in a race. At the start, it seemed like Oscar could give Verstappen a run for his money, but then the safety car came out and it felt like you were barely moving until the end of the race, with Lando being P1. It wasn't until the checkered flag waved that you finally exhaled, a shaky breath that escaped with a nervous laugh.

The McLaren hospitality buzzed with excitement. Lando had finally done it. His first F1 victory, a triumph long overdue. You joined the celebrations, a wide smile plastered across your face, not just for the team, but for Lando himself. It was a moment he deserved.

"Great race, Oscar!" You exclaimed as the Australian driver entered the hospitality area and hug you. "You had Red Bull sweating for a while there!"

He chuckled, pulling you into a brief hug. "Thanks, Y/N. I gave it my all, but the real winner tonight is Lando." He winked. "I'm sure your champion will be here any minute, looking for his girl."

You slapped his arm playfully, a blush creeping up your neck. "Don't say that in here!"

"Everybody knows." He whispered back.

As if on cue, Lando appeared. His eyes scanned the room, a triumphant grin splitting his face when they landed on you. You saw as he and Oscar hugged each other and the rest of the team.

He weaved his way through the crowd, a trail of congratulations and backslaps following him, but it was you he was drawn to. Everyone else faded into the background as he reached you, his victory grin melting into a tender smile reserved only for you.

You welcomed him into a hug, a sweet and loving embrace. He buried his face in your neck, the scent of champagne and his signature cologne an intoxicating mix.

"We did it!" He murmured, his voice filled with emotion.

"You did it!" You corrected, pulling back to cup his face. "I'm so proud of you."

Everyone was engaged in their own celebrations as he took your hand. He led you away from the loud crowd, a silent understanding passing between you. As you slipped inside his driver's room, he locked the door behind him, a thrill of nervousness ran through you.

He closed the distance between you, his eyes roaming your face before settling on your lips. With a tender touch, he cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing a seductive path across your lips.

"Please!" He pleaded, his voice low and urgent. "Just this once…" You knew exactly what he craved.

"Lando--" You began.

"Please!" He repeated, his voice laced with a desperation that mirrored your own.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. A part of you, the part that had spent months pushing him away, hesitated. But the other part yearned to give in. You nodded.

He cupped your face in his hands and pressed you against the wall. The next moment, his lips were on yours, the taste of champagne a sweet surprise against yours. The kiss was hungry and desperate. You clung to his fireproof shirt. The world melted away, replaced by the intoxicating sensation of his lips moving against yours. All the reasons you'd held back faded away. 

But just as the kiss deepened, a knock on the door jolted you both back to reality. You broke away, gasping for breath.

Lando groaned. "Yeah?" The voice from the other side told him they were expecting him. Lando rolled his eyes. "Just give me a minute."

When you heard the footsteps fade away, you reached for the doorknob, but Lando's hand shot out, his fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist.

"Stop it, Lando." You whispered.

"Don't!" He pleaded. "You can't tell me you didn't like it. I could feel it, Y/N. Don't deny it."

"I'm not denying it." You admitted your voice barely a whisper. "But you know why this can't happen."

Lando's jaw clenched. "It's NOT inappropriate! Look," he said, his voice softer now, "I waited this long for my first win. I can wait for you, just as long."

He cupped your jaw and before you could react, he leaned in and kissed the corner of your lips. He unlocked the door in one swift motion and stepped out, leaving you breathless.

You'd politely declined Lando's after-party invitation at the strip club near the hotel. You weren't the nightclub type, and deep down, Lando knew that. You assured him that you hadn't rejected it because of the kiss, but the way the call ended, left a pit in your stomach.

"He's mad! I know it." You mumbled to Oscar, who sat beside you at the hotel bar. The rest of the team was split between a game of darts in the back and loud conversations over drinks by the pool. "He didn't say 'bye, love' or 'see you later, beautiful', we just said bye."

Oscar facepalmed as he looked at his drunk best friend rambling about their mutual friend who was likely doing the same thing at the party.

"You're his friend, Y/N, not his girlfriend." He teased, sending a blush creeping up your cheeks. You stammered a reply, but the words got tangled up in your throat. "He's probably getting lucky tonight." He continued. "Deserves it after that win."

The implication hit you like a punch to the gut. "Lucky? You think he'll...?"

A mischievous glint danced in Oscar's eyes. "Oh, absolutely."

You downed the last of your drink, feeling a hollowness in your chest. "Good for him." You mumbled, the words lacking conviction.

Oscar groaned, frustration etching lines on his forehead. "Jesus, Y/N! The only girl he wants to get lucky with is you. Stop playing these mind games and making yourselves miserable!"

You rested your head on your hand, a wave of emotions crashing over you. "Oscar," You confessed, looking him straight in the eye. "I really like him. Like, never liked anyone this way before."

A slow smile spread across his face. "Then do something about it."

Lando was having the best time of his life, celebrating his first win with his friends. He felt his chest vibrate with every beat of the bass, as he laughed with his friends. Despite the fun he was having, he was also experiencing a dull ache. Your absence stood out.

He'd downed a few too many drinks to drown the disappointment steaming inside. When you declined the club invitation, his frustration boiled over into a harsh goodbye, which he quickly regretted. 

"Did you see who just walked in?" Max shouted into his ear over the loud music.

"What?" Max pointed towards the entrance, causing a frown to appear on Lando's forehead.

Your arrival sent a jolt through him, he felt a surge of adrenaline and his earlier frustration vanished as a smile stretched across his face.

"Go get your girl, champ!" Max patted his shoulder with a wink.

Lando needed no further encouragement. He navigated his way through the crowd, his eyes fixed on you.

You scanned the room with a hint of apprehension. Even in your tipsy state, a voice of reason whispered in your head, questioning this impulsive move.

Just as you turned to leave, a warm hand closed around your wrist. You didn't need to see his face to know who it was. His familiar touch sent a familiar spark across your skin.

He wore a playful smirk, but his eyes held a hint of concern. "I thought you weren't coming."

You tried to appear casual, but your voice betrayed you. "I wasn't."

"How much did you have to drink?" He asked you, and you furrowed your eyebrows. How did he know what you had been doing? You stuttered in response, unsure of what to say. "Did Oscar let you come here drunk?"

"I'm not drunk! And how do you know I've been drinking?"

"Then why the sudden change of heart?" His gaze softened, searching your face. "And Oscar's been keeping me updated."

"Why doe--"

"Why are you here, Y/n?" He asked you.

You felt your face getting hot as you looked around the club, the among of bodies suddenly overwhelming. "I, uh..." You cleared your throat, the words catching in your tight throat. "I need a drink."

As you made your way towards the bar, Lando followed closely behind. You approached the counter and asked the bartender for a drink. He nodded and began to mix your order. Lando stood by your side, looking a you. 

"How did you get here? Does Oscar know?" The concern in his voice sent a shiver down your spine.

You nodded and then drank the entire drink that was placed in front of you all at once. "Yes. He called me an Uber and told the guy to drop me here." Lando looked surprised as he noticed the empty glass in your hand. You hadn't intended to drink it so quickly, but your nerves got the best of you.

 "Whoa, slow down there."

"I thought you wanted to celebrate!" You said to him as the bartender handed you another drink. You took it and walked away. Lando's face was adorned with a smile, but worry still lingered in his mind. Despite that, there was a sense of happiness as the night was finally complete.

You leaned heavily against Lando, his arm wrapped securely around your waist, as the elevator ride made you feel dizzy. He, somehow, seemed frustratingly sober.

"Hey," He chuckled, his voice warm despite the coolness of the metal walls. You managed a watery smile, lifting a hand to touch his cheek. "What are you thinking about?"

"Dogs." You mumbled. "Do you think they dream about bones?"

Lando's laugh filled the small space. "Maybe. I don't know beautiful."

"Do you think I'm beautiful?" You blurted out, smiling innocently.

He stopped in front of your room, his gaze holding yours. The concern that had flickered in his eyes earlier was gone, replaced by something more intense. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." A giggle erupted from your lips. Lando reacted instinctively, clapping a hand over your mouth. It was late, and the last thing they needed was a noise complaint. "Shh." He murmured. "Gotta be quiet, love."

You nodded. "Okay!" 

"Where's your key?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of exasperation. You shrugged, the simple action requiring more effort than you cared to admit.

"Lando?" You whined. "Sleepy..."

He cursed under his breath, scanning the empty hallway. Walking up to the front desk for a key wasn't exactly his ideal scenario.

"Alright, you're coming with me." He said gently, scooping you up in his arms. A sleepy protest tumbled from your lips, but you clung to him instinctively as he carried you back towards the elevator.

"Can we go to the beach?" You mumbled as the doors closed.

"The beach will be there in the morning." He replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "It's almost five am."

A giggle escaped you. "Naked swim?"

He cleared his throat, the sound a little rough. You'd been a delightful firecracker all night, and he was struggling to keep his cool. "The shower's a much better option right now."

The elevator doors slid open, and with a sigh, he carried you out, your head chilling against his shoulder. He fumbled with his keycard, finally pushing the door open with his foot.

In the room, he gently laid you on the bed, the soft sheets making you relax and close your eyes.

For a moment, he stood there, watching you. The urge to pull you close, to feel your warmth against him, was killing him. But your vulnerability state held him back.

"Hey, love?" He said softly, his voice laced with concern. "Can I take off your shoes?"

You mumbled something incomprehensible but managed a weak nod. He carefully removed your heels, his fingers brushing against your ankle for a fleeting moment that sent a jolt through him.

"Maybe a shower would be good." He suggested, his voice gruff. "You'll sleep better."

"With you?" She asked him, excited.

Lando, still feeling the effects of alcohol, ran his fingers through his hair, feeling hot.

"You can't imagine how much I want to say yes... But no, not tonight." You pouted. Grabbing your hands, he pulled you up. "Ask me again tomorrow!"

He gently led you to the bathroom and helped you sit down. He waited for the water to warm up, and when it was ready, he turned around. Suddenly, Lando's breath caught in his throat.

Without him realising, you had taken off your clothes. You stood bathed in the soft glow, vulnerability etched on your face, wearing only your black lace lingerie.

He tore his gaze from you. His heart beat a frantic rhythm against his ribs, mimicking the feel of the alcohol in his veins. Only if you weren't drunk...

"Are you okay?" Your voice was so gentle and innocent, nothing like it normally sounded. You reached out and touched his back. He flinched the innocent gesture a powerful trigger for his already steaming desire.

"Y/N, please!" He pleaded. "If you keep touching me..." The sentence trailed off, the implication hanging heavy in the air. The more he looked at you, the more his willpower crumbled. Shame washed over him. "Love, just take a shower. You need to sober up." He gestured to a pile of clothes on the counter. "There are some of mine there. I'll be outside when you're done."

You stayed in the shower for a while, the hot water feeling good against your skin. You weren't completely sober, the world still held a gentle sway, but the edge of drunkenness had dimmed.

Stepping out, you wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel Lando had left out. 

As you dried your hair, you caught your reflection in the mirror. Even in the state of mind you were, you knew you were going to regret it in the morning. You put on the clothes he had left you and shoved the feeling down. 

Lando, scrolling through his phone on the bed, looked up when the bathroom door creaked open. Relief washed over him as he saw you wrapped in his clothes.

"Feeling better?" He asked. You offered a small nod, leaning weakly against the doorframe. The playful energy that had fueled you earlier had dimmed, replaced by exhaustion. "Good!" He said, a hesitant smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Sleepy?" You simply nodded again. He cleared his throat, the silence growing heavy in the room. "So... Are you comfortable sharing the bed, or...?"

"It's fine." You mumbled. A playful glint flickered in your eyes. "And I promise I won't, uh, bite."

Lando chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "Don't get me wrong, love," He said, his voice dropping to a raspy whisper. "You could do whatever you wanted most nights, believe me. But not tonight."

He gestured to the empty spot beside him on the bed, inviting you to join him, an unspoken tension lingering in the air.

You waddled across the room, the oversized t-shirt hanging loosely on your body. Climbing onto the bed, you scooted closer to him, a nervous feeling running through you, despite the lingering effects of the alcohol still dancing through your veins.

"Can we at least...?" You trailed off, your voice barely a whisper. "You know... a goodnight kiss?

"You're a menace when you're drunk, you know that?" He teased, a playful sparkle in his eyes.

You batted your eyelashes in a way you knew usually worked. He sighed, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Alright, alright!" He complied. "But on the cheek. Lips are off-limits tonight."

You couldn't help the grin that spread across your face. As he leaned in, the faint scent of his cologne filled your senses. He placed a soft kiss on your cheek, sending shivers down your spine.

"Goodnight, Y/N!" He murmured, his voice sending a flutter to your heart. "Hope you'll remember this tomorrow morning."

"Goodnight, race winner." You replied, a hint of sleepiness in your voice.

Sunlight pierced through the blinds, finding your eyelids and forcing them open with a groan. Your head felt like a maraca that had been shaken all night, and your mouth tasted like a desert. Sitting up cautiously, you winced at the throbbing in the back of your head.

Memories and fragments started to come back. The kiss, the club, the dancing, Lando's strong arm around you... and then... a complete blank. Panic started to rise in your chest. What had you done? Had you said something stupid or done something worse?

The bedroom door creaked open and Lando entered, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand. He looked like a vision with his rumpled hair and a smile breaking out on his face as soon as he saw you awake.

"Good morning, sunshine!" He said, his voice sounding awful to your pounding head.

"Don't yell!" You mumbled. "Water?"

He chuckled, handing you a bottle of water. He sat on the edge of the bed, his concern evident in his eyes. You took a grateful sip, the cool liquid easing the dryness in your throat.

"Do you remember anything from last night?" He asked you, sitting on the edge of the bed, his concern evident in his eyes.

You took a deep breath. "I remember... bits and pieces." You admitted, shame creeping up your cheeks. "Lando, I am sorry if I did something or said something wrong... I must have been awful. I was very, very drunk."

He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Honestly? I wish you felt that comfortable around me all the time." Lando reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. His touch sent a jolt through you. "You know how much I like you... Y/n, I'm in love with you."

Your heart hammered against your ribs at his confession. A real and pure confession.

"Lando--" You breathed, your voice thick with emotion.

He took your hand in his, his eyes filled with a gentle understanding. "I know..." He said, his voice a soothing balm. "Just know that I'll wait for you. However long it takes." He squeezed your hand.

Tears welled up in your eyes. The years of running, of pushing him away, suddenly seemed pointless. All you wanted was to be here, with him.

Leaning forward, you met his gaze. Then, you cupped his face gently and placed a soft, sweet kiss on his lips. It was a kiss filled with apology and relief.

"I'm tired of running." You whispered against his lips. "I'm in love with you too. I've always have."

Lando couldn't help but grin as you hugged him. First, the win, then the kiss and now the girl of his dreams confessing her feelings. Yeah, you could definitely say it was a very good day for Lando No Wins.

"I love you, Y/n." You smiled, a genuine, heart-melting smile.

"I love you too, Lando." You knew, at that moment, hugging the person you had been in love with for years, that you were finally home.

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

From the request HERE

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: You two can't keep your hands off one another as you come home one night, but a slight problem has you in a pickle: your birth control has just run out and you are all out of condoms. Not to worry, Simon assures you that he will pull out. But as you ride him you begin to question if you really want him to. Will he stick to his promise or will he give in to your need?

Word Count: 4.9 k

Warnings:

Your back bounces into the front door as Simon pins you against it as he is physically unable to wait to get inside before he is on you. The walk from the car to the apartment has already been long enough, you can’t expect him to stay away any longer, especially not after the needy way his hands were on you just moments before. He almost made it till you just had to go and pull him into you by tugging on his belt loops; you should have known that’s all it takes to make his resolve break so that he is unable to hold back his need to devour every inch of you.

It had all started on your way home as it always does when he is out with you and an urge hits that he can’t indulge yet: his hand that was gripped tightly around the top of your inner thigh as he drove began moving up slowly until it reached the inseam of your jeans where he pressed up against it as if he was trying to get a feel of your warmth through the thick fabric. The longer his hand massaged you through your clothes, the worse the ache got and the more he had trouble keeping his gaze from trailing back onto you at every chance until he had to force himself to look back at the road, biting his lower lip to focus on something other than his need to put his mouth on any part of you he could get.  

He did try his hardest to get you both inside before his composure broke, but even as the car came to a stop he knew it was too late. There is only so much he can control, he is a trained professional after all, but this isn’t military business; when it comes to those moments when his desire for you has reached its peak, there is no holding back. 

You are the perfect kind of intoxication and once he has you in his veins there is nothing left but to indulge until he is satisfied.

His mouth dominates your own as his hands cling around your cheeks to keep you completely at his mercy so that he can take you as he likes. It’s not even been five minutes, but he is already panting heavily from the ferocity in the desperate and insatiable way he captures your lips in open-mouthed kisses and the sound of his yearning makes your heart skip. 

“Si,” you moan the shortened version of his name against his lips in between gasped breaths.  

Christ, the way it rolls off your tongue is an aphrodisiac to him and before he can think he is already rock hard and throbbing against your hip. You would think he hadn’t had you in months with the urgency in which he claims your mouth with his until your skin burns from the aggression; the immense intensity in that moment has your knees buckling.   

Your head is spinning with each passing minute as he grunts into your mouth, the feeling of your kiss too good to keep quiet about…but he needs more. Suddenly, his tender lips leave yours stinging as Simon nuzzles across your cheek, eyes closed and moving off of feel alone, and soon his hot breath is at the side of your head as his lips ghost near your jaw before they land. They leave burning kisses in their wake while they travel down towards your neck. 

“Fuck,” he exclaims with that husky tone into your skin, “I need ta feel ya, baby.”

Moving between the contours of your fused bodies his desperate hands locate the button on your jeans and with a bit of struggle, he undoes them. Both of those meaty paws are shoved inside the front before he even gets the zipper down. There’s a hiss on his tongue as his hands fill with all your soft, warm skin just inside your clothes. 

“Gotta get ya inside ‘fore I fuck ya right here ‘gainst the door,” he says in a deep, breathy whisper. 

The ache in his voice makes your skin prickle with anticipation of what’s to come as the vibration from his deep register makes your clit throb. His neediness is overwhelming, worming its way inside your head until you can’t think of anything else outside of the sensation of his touch along your curves, the yearning in his depraved kisses, and the way his words set your soul on fire with passion.   

“I’m sure the neighbors would love that,” you say, quickly followed by a high-pitched moan as he drags the sharp edge of his teeth over that rapidly pounding vein at the side of your neck.

You hold his face tighter against you, forcing him to suck at the spot, his heated, sticky breath moistening your skin as the pressure from his lips leave you in a daze. His calloused hands continue harshly pawing at your body as he situates his knee between your legs up against the door to steady himself and without thinking you take that as an invitation to grind against his thigh to relieve some of the ache that is making you lose your mind.

He can’t stop himself from following your lead and soon you are both greedily humping each other, desperately trying to get as much friction going as possible, not actually caring if anyone catches you two going at it. You can feel his mouth upturn into a smile against your neck. “They’d be so lucky to see me fuck a gorgeous thing like ya, sweetheart,” he growls into the skin.

What’s breathing again? You’ve lost the ability completely after that line. 

Fuck, Simon doesn’t want to take his hands off you, but you have got to get inside and quick or else his little joke might become a reality with the way you two keep grinding on one another. But if he wants to get these clothes off you, and fucking hell does he want to, he’s going to have to open the door.

Under duress, he removes one of his hands from within your pants and searches his pockets for his keys. The jingle of metal clinking together is heard as he pulls them out and flips through the set until his fingers find the one he needs. It takes him several tries to stab the key into the lock, relying strictly on sound and feeling alone to be sure he has it and finally that familiar click hits his ears over the sound of your combined heavy breathing. 

The front door ricochets off the wall behind it as Simon flings it open with a bit too much force before he staggers his way inside with you plastered to his body, his lips feverishly back to capturing yours in their embrace as you enter. He can't get in fast enough; he desperately needs to get you fucking naked and now. 

Grabbing the door with his hand, he slams it closed before making you both tumble to the floor and pinning your body between him and the living room carpet. “Can’t make it,” he groans in agony as if the bedroom is miles away. 

It’s not like your naked body hasn’t felt the fibers of the carpet dig into it before. 

Now that you are safely inside, his lust is unable to be controlled. Just the feeling of you under him has him panting into your open mouth like an animal in heat, barely able to kiss you as it feels so fucking good. He runs those coarse hands over your delicate curves through the opening he’s created in your pants and up under the bottom hem of your shirt over your stomach. 

His groans turn into a bassy whimper as you begin to explore his body as well, fingers running up under his shirt to caress the muscles along his torso up towards his chest, your arms taking his t-shirt with you as you go until it reaches his neck and he lets you pull it off over his head. The skin is pink with the heat from his arousal making his blood run hot like fire through his limbs. Moving up onto his knees he leans on his calves, his head falling back in ecstasy as you glide your touch through the hair that covers his chest and abdomen; just your touch is stimulating enough to have him ready to burst. 

He looks down at you with half-lidded eyes as your hand slips lower over those bulging muscles as they ripple, the bliss from your silky touch almost too much to handle. You catch his stare and lock it in your pining gaze as the tips of your fingers slip over his naval and down onto the clasp of his pants and a deep, guttural moan is dragged out of his throat as you skillfully undo it and shove your way inside.   

Your hand brushes against the bulbous tip of his cock and his whole body shudders. “F-fuck,” he gasps under his breath, his eyes fluttering shut and mouth hanging open as your hand wraps around it and begins to stroke up and down within the confines of his pants. It doesn’t take long and he is bucking, rolling his hips to fuck your hand as your fist tightens more around him. The constriction only makes the movement of his hips more feverish as he succumbs to the feeling of the friction. 

He lets you go on until he can feel the first twinges of pressure building inside and that’s when he knows he’s had enough; there is so much more he wants to do to you and if he comes now it’ll all be over too soon. Opening those brown eyes, now with their blown out pupils, he runs his tongue over his dry lips and looks down at you as he removes your hand from around his cock and tugs it out of his pants.

“Come ‘ere to me, pretty girl,” he groans as he drags your hips forward onto his knees so you have to wrap your legs on either side of his wide, bulky torso. “Need these fuckers off.” 

Those girthy fingers hook themselves into the waistband of your jeans, making sure to latch into the top of your panties as well, and with a hard tug he is wrenching them both down off your hips, continuing down the line of your legs. Your body is aching so bad for his touch that everywhere he makes contact against you feels like ecstasy and all you want is more. You pull your legs back to tuck them against your chest so he can rip your pants all the way off and toss them away. 

Your ears pick up the sound of Simon’s sharp inhale as he gets sight of that sweet thing between your thighs. One look is all it takes and the inside of his mouth begins to salivate as he leans over your body to place his raw lips to your abdomen just below your naval as your body squirms under his touch from each warm caress of his mouth. The short, bristly hair that covers his jaw pricks against that overly sensitive skin until your back arches off the ground and you start to whine as it is almost too much for you to take.

“Need ta make ya come,” Simon whispers his feral plea into your stomach. “Need ta hear it, need ta feel it…”

His thought trails off as his lips wander down lower to stop at the sparse hair covering the top of your nude pussy. He pauses for only a few seconds to take it all in; God, he would never get tired of seeing it. But as much as he admires the look of it, there is something he needs even more and he can feel his taste buds tingling across his tongue to get at it.

“Need ta taste it…” he says, frantic and desperate. 

Your brain is so strung out that you haven’t fully comprehended his words as you open your eyes and see Simon repositioning himself, sliding out from under you and moving onto his stomach in between the divide in your legs. With his fingertips gripping into each of your thighs, he pushes them apart and keeps them spread as he immediately dives face first into the gap he has made with a hunger that makes him wildly delirious. 

There’s something you need to remember to tell him, something important pertaining to this exact situation, but the minute his mouth is on those tender lower lips your ability to think is gone. His mouth pin heavy kisses to your petals before his wide tongue flattens against the curve of your pussy and pushes up tight until the pressure causes you to fidgeting your hips against his face. 

Back and forth Simon slips his tongue over you until he pushes through the threshold of your sex and drags it up the length, coming to rest up against that bundle of nerves towards the top. He can feel your heartbeat through the throbbing in your clit and his eyes roll back in his head as he loses himself inside the haze of his passion; if he could live between your legs, he would definitely call it home. 

You are already a little wet and he can taste your arousal in his mouth as he takes the tip of his tongue to roll it delicately over your clit and you squeeze your thighs together around his ears in response to the intense pleasure that one simple movement produces. Keep doing shit like that and he isn’t going to be able to contain himself. 

Simon tries to keep his tongue steady and slow, but the longer he stays buried in your pussy, lapping at you like he’s been starved of it, the harder it is to contain himself. He’s obsessed. Every desperate sound you make, every writhe of your body, makes him greedy for more; he is eager to do whatever it takes to turn you into a complete mess and that means only one thing- overstimulation.

Releasing one of your thighs, he moves his palm to rest under his chin and brings two of his bulky fingers to align them with your entrance. He keeps his tongue on your clit and thrusts the pad against it as he sinks his middle fingers up into you. Those dark eyes dart up over the line of your body to watch your back arch up high off the floor while you cry out in incoherent moans as you are suddenly stretched out from the size of his digits.  

His fingers fill up your pussy as deep, come hither strokes work on your G spot over and over in rhythm until he has your body dripping. The mixture of your juices and his spit from your clit dribbles down into his hand and collects around his chin. This is exactly what he is looking for: the more your wetness gathers on his face, the more feral he becomes until his sanity is gone and only a mindless creature hell bent on ruining you remains. 

No more calm caresses now; he needs this raw and dirty. He wants his face to be slathered in your cum.

Tilting his head to the side, he takes a deep breath. “Rock your hips inta me,” he grunts his hasty demand with his mouth still against you before plunging back in.

Planting your feet firmly onto the floor, you pick up your hips slightly and slowly begin to rut against his face as his fingers curl up inside of you and his tongue continues to tease your clit. The sensation is unlike anything else, riding his face and fingers at the same time. How is this man a master at using every single part of his body? 

Simon hums his praises into you for how good you are at following orders and you can feel the vibration from his lips; that adds something even more magnificent to the equation and soon there is a warmth gathering in the pit of your stomach that you recognize- you are close. 

Your core is clenching around his fingers something fierce, your swollen walls bearing down on him with each thrust of your hips as he laps up the mess you are making to keep it from being wasted on the carpet. As your leg muscles begin to shake near his ears, he knows that you are about to come and his already depleted breathing hitches as he waits to feel it.

“Sh-shit,” you whimper as your nails dig into the carpet. “Gonna come, Si.”

A few more moans and then you fall silent as all that pressure is right at the peak, so close you can almost taste it, and with a few more thrusts of his tongue and buck of your hips and your body contracts as your orgasm tears through you. 

Simon sneaks one gasping breath just as your thighs clamp down rigidly around his ears, blocking him in against you so that he can’t get free until you are finished. The entirety of your high you ride out with him licking, sucking, and fingering until you sink into the floor, breathing through the pleasure.

“That’s my girl,” he growls, breathing hard as his face emerges from you with a contented smile on his glistening lips. 

Pushing himself up, he moves back onto his knees in front of you before taking the back of his hand and wiping it across his lips to remove the coating leaking down his chin. “Ready for more?” he smiles.

All at once the thought comes flooding back into your mind through the clarity that getting off has given you, that thing you are supposed to tell him, as he slides the waistband of his jeans down over the curve of his ass and pulls his cock out. Goddamn he is hard, the tip swollen and throbbing with the beat of his heart as he moves in.

Quickly, you stagger up onto your elbows to look at him. “Wait,” you choke out as he slides back up close against you.

“Need a break?” he asks, slightly out of breath still.

You don’t want to stop, God, you want him in you so bad it hurts, but there’s a problem. “Ran outta birth control,” you stammer out. “Do we have any condoms?”

Even in your delirious state you already know the answer; you haven’t bought anything for a while as you had never had any trouble with your pills until now. Simon looks back at you and shakes his head, confirming your suspicions and you fall back down onto your back defeated.

“Don’t wanna stop,” you whine pathetically as you feel him move, thinking that you’ll have to stop, but Simon is quick to crush your fears.

"Listen,” he says as he leans over top of you, cupping your cheek to pull you into a quick kiss as he holds himself up with the other, “I'll be careful. Swear I'll fuckin' pull out."

His cock presses against you as it hangs freely out of his pants. Without thinking he slowly grinds the veiny shaft up against your pussy, his hardness stroking over your clit until your juices are dripping all over it. All that slick, all that warmth, and Simon is losing his goddamn mind, but he won’t put it in, not until you say.

You are already so drunk off the euphoria of your orgasm that there is no way you’re gonna say no to that, not when the need to keep this going for as long as possible is all you want. The more his cock slips between your petals the more you agree with his idea until the only thing left in your hazy mind is the need for him to be inside you- now. 

“Promise?” you ask.

“I swear,” he reassures. “Don’t wanna stop either. Wanna be inside ya too.”

“Okay,” you agree enthusiastically and he gives you one more heated kiss in confirmation. 

Slipping through you a few more times just to be sure he is good and coated, he pulls back and sets the tip right at your opening. “Jus’ breathe,” he groans, digging his fingers into your hips as he sinks the tip of his cock inside and with one fluid thrust he plunges in fully until his cock completely disappears inside.

The fucking stretch of him is sublime, the usual slight discomfort from it near nonexistent as your body is more than ready to take him in. “Yes, yes,” you whimper out as your mind is consumed with the feeling. 

There is no restraint left in Simon to keep him in check; the high he feels from being inside you is too much and he wastes no time in setting a punishing pace. Bulky arms move underneath you to tilt your hips upwards as his hips snap into you with ruthless force until he’s pounding into you so deep his vision blurs and he must resort to sounds to convey his thoughts. 

Each thrust is emphasized with a primal groan from him as both your bodies start to glisten with perspiration from the exertion of the brunt of his desire for you that makes him pound into your dripping hole with fervor. Minutes pass in this hazy ecstasy until he decides that he needs a change of position. As good as you look beneath him, you are a true fantasy when you are on top and he craves that right now. 

“Need ya ta ride me, baby,” he murmurs. “Can ya do that?” 

You nod quickly; as long as he keeps making your body feel this way, you’ll do whatever he wants.

Making sure you are secure in his arms, he pulls out of you only long enough so that he can roll you both over until you are now the one on top. Getting you situated he immediately thrusts back inside and you instantly plant your hands firmly onto his chest, using it as leverage. Pushing down against his chest you begin to bob up and down on your knees as best as you can over the bulk of his body to stick to the relentless pace that he had already set. 

Simon runs his hands up and down your bare thighs as he takes in the view of you perched on top of him: your pretty eyes glazed over, your hair a beautifully disheveled mess hanging down around your face, your tits bouncing in tandem with you beneath your shirt. You are utter perfection as you ride. Those needy hands begin to roam up higher and higher over your stomach, pushing your shirt up as he goes until he can reach your breasts so that he can get at them to play with the nipples to make you whine.

Fucking hell, every inch of you is like a dream. And it’s all his.

It isn’t long before your movements start to get sloppy as the euphoria of it all draws you closer to your second release. This is too much for anyone to handle: you being entirely ravaged by him until you are so desperately lost in the pleasure of it all that you are in a complete state of full body bliss. That familiar pressure at the base of your spine is already building again and as long as you keep this rhythm you will be coming in no time. 

Even as you are lost in it all, ready to finish again, an irrational need creeps into your mind that you have never had before. The thrill of the risk is mind-numbly good, but this new though amplifies all that by ten. What if he didn’t pull out?  

It’s crazy, you know, but something about it just sounds so right. The delicious thought consumes your mind, making your limbs tingle with excitement. Screw the consequences, you can figure it all out later. Why the idea popped in your head in the first place, you don’t know, but now that it is here, you can’t get rid of it. You need Simon to come in you.  

“Don’t… pull…out,” you stammer out shakily. 

Simon’s head pops up. Did he hear that right? No, he must be so far out of his mind that he is not able to comprehend your words right now. “What?” he asks.

Your legs lock around his sides as you continue to bounce in that steady rhythm with no sign of stopping. “Want you…to come… inside me. Please, Si. Need it.”

Oh, God. It’s like a switch that gets flicked on in his brain as you plead with him to fill you up and all at once that absolutely feral part of his brain that has been kept dormant all this time is awakened with a fury.

Fuck, it's all over now. 

There is no possible chance in hell that he isn’t going to give in to that. He's so high off the feeling of you riding him into oblivion that any consequences that may come do not even register. So what if you have an accident? He’s confident that he’d be just fine with that. Shit, he loves you to the moon and back, so it’s not much of a risk in the end if a product of your love just happens to come from this. Right now the risk is worth the reward.

“Fill… me up,” you continue to beg. “Please…almost there.”

His mind is already made up. "Christ,” he groans desperately, “can't say no to that, pretty girl. Want me ta fill ya, that's what your gonna fuckin' get."

His large hands lock tight around your hips to hold them down as he strikes his hips up into your pussy, taking control to slam up into you from below harder and harder. The clenching of his abdominal muscles from each thrust has the sweat dripping over the contours of his chest. You take every last delectable inch he gives you as the room fills with the wet sounds of your bodies slapping against each other. Your mind is all static now, so lost within the bliss of your union that you can’t stand it and he isn’t far behind.

“Don’t stop…Dont’ stop,” you whine, your body shaking as he slams into you over and over again. 

“Never,” he grunts, trying to keep together through the overwhelming pressure gathering deep within him that threatens to throw him over the edge at any moment; you have to come first, that’s his rule. 

That warmth is almost at its peak again, the pressure rising harshly at the base of your spine; just a little more and you’ll be there. You’re barely hanging on by a thread, excited to experience being stuffed full by the only man you ever want to claim you. Fuck, you want him to claim you so bad it hurts.

A few more seconds of his roughness as you are jostled atop him and that is it, like a hot flash of white light you squeal out in unsteady whimpers as your second orgasm tears straight through you with such force you nearly fall off him, but Simon keep you upright. 

Finally he can let himself go. He’s nearly there, just a bit more and he is going to fill you full. A few more ragged, desperate thrust and he is spilling inside of you. A loud groan rips through his chest as he releases all that warm liquid up into you, milking his cock until he has nothing more left as he keeps your hips pinned to his; you had wanted this and he is going to be sure you get everything you want. His hips continue slowly moving against yours as he works you both through your highs for the next couple of minutes until it subsides and he comes to a stop, completely spent. 

“I’ve got ya, I’ve got ya,” he murmurs softly as you fall forward onto him and he cradles you against his burning chest while you continue to whimper faintly as your body shakes with the force of your lingering orgasm. 

Never have you come so hard before and fuck, neither has he.

Simon clings to you, gently rubbing down your back until your breathing calms and your heart stops thudding so violently; only then does he carefully pull out of you and help you move to his side. With nothing to plug you up, you can feel a warm gush that runs down to your thigh, a sticky reminder of what just happened. Simon catches a glimpse of it and it makes his heart thud to see all his milky white cum dripping out of you; the ultimate claim to what is his.

Propping himself up onto his elbow, he lays a heavy arm over top of you and wraps it around your back to pull you tighter into him. “We might ‘ave a problem,” he chuckles as he kisses your heated cheek. 

“What’s that?” you ask exhaustedly.

“Think I just found my favorite thing to do with ya,” he whispers. “And from the way ya just came, I might have ta do it again.”

[pin-k-ink]

ROUTINE ⋆✦⋆ miya osamu

synopsis ➸ you thought things would be the same after six years away from Osamu, but surprise—turns out, distance really does make the heart grow fonder

tags ➸ kinda dub-con, best friends to lovers, sexual tension, making out, cunnilingus, blowjob, face-fucking, come-eating, dom!samu, unprotected sex, fingering, nipple play, dirty talk, praise kink, dry humping, breeding kink,

wc ➸ 6.5k

"Damn, I was wondering when you'd finally roll up," you teased as Osamu's car pulled up to the curb outside arrivals. "I was about to have them page you over the intercom like a lost child or something."

He shot you a flat look as you chuckled, sliding into the passenger seat with a dramatic flourish. "Yeah, well, maybe I would've been here sooner if a certain someone hadn't decided to bring half her apartment along for the trip."

You gasped in mock outrage, playfully swatting his arm as Osamu pulled away from the curb. "My luggage is perfectly reasonable, Mr. Smart Mouth! Not all of us can be professional minimalists, you know."

Osamu snorted at that, lips twitching upwards ever so slightly in that subtle way you'd always adored. "Pretty sure there's minimalist and then there's whatever hoarding problem you've got going on back there."

You stuck your tongue out at him childishly before both of you dissolved into familiar laughter - any last remaining tension from the years apart melting away in an instant. This was simply how it always was between you and your oldest friend, trading playful jabs and insults like two unruly siblings. The ease of simply being yourselves around each other again filled you with profound comfort and nostalgia.

"God, I missed this so freakin' much," you admitted once the laughter subsided, reaching over to briefly squeeze his bicep affectionately. "The whole sarcastic smart-ass battle of wits, I mean. None of my other friends back home could keep up quite like you."

Osamu hummed, the barest hint of a smirk playing over his features as he merged onto the highway. "You say that like it's a good thing, dork. Pretty sure half the gray hairs I'm rocking now are from all the stress of dealing with your particular brand of chaos all those years."

You scoffed dramatically. "Pleaaaase, I single-handedly kept you from being an even bigger stick in the mud growing up. You're welcome for helping cultivate your sparkling personality, sir."

That earned you an eye roll, but you didn't miss the undeniable warmth flickering in the depths of Osamu's intense stare every time he snuck a glance your way. Like he was just as pleased at falling back into this familiar banter as you were.

The rest of the drive passed in a similar fashion - full of laughing recollections of old haunts long abandoned and inside jokes so deeply embedded you were the only two people left who understood them anymore. Whenever a lull arose, one of you would almost immediately find some new embarrassing anecdote to poke fun at the other over, dragging yourselves into another spiral of cackling wisecracks until you could scarcely breathe.

It was only as Osamu navigated his car through your new neighborhood's winding streets that the conversation lulled more naturally. A comfortable quiet blanketed over you both, replete with unspoken depths of affection and certainty built up over literal decades of steadfast camaraderie against all odds.

When he finally pulled up to the curb outside your new building, you felt a bizarre pang in your chest - a reluctance to break this tranquil cocoon of nostalgia and easy familiarity just yet despite the obvious need to collect your luggage waiting in the trunk.

Osamu must have sensed your hesitation because he shot you another one of those subtle sidelong looks, pewter irises inscrutable. You maintained the heavy silence for another suspended heartbeat before gesturing vaguely towards the car's rear.

"Well...I guess we should probably see about unstuffing the trunk before the neighbors start thinking we're accomplices in some robbery or something, huh?"

His low chuckle rumbled through the space between you, rich and effortlessly relaxing your tensed shoulders all over again. "Yeah, yeah...I got it. You just sit tight and I'll start hauling your mountain of crap inside before the old guy veins start bursting too much strain."

You grinned and stuck out your tongue as he unbuckled and moved to exit the vehicle. Typical Osamu - always keeping things low-key and pragmatic no matter the situation, even when it came to giving you grief over your travel habits.

Feeling lighter than you had since initially booking your return ticket, you pushed open your own door and stretched out your travel-weary limbs while waiting for your friend to join you. Over the still-running engine's idle rumble, you could hear Osamu's telltale grumbling and shuffling on the other side of the sedan as he rooted around the trunk area.

You couldn't resist tossing another teasing quip over your shoulder. "Need a hand over there with my 'mountain of crap', your highness? Or should I just leave you to suffer under the strain alone a bit longer as punishment for the snark?"

You'd barely gotten the words out before freezing dead in your tracks, one foot already hovering outside the car door to disembark as your heart lurched into your throat. Because rather than issuing some characteristically dry retort or scoffing rejoinder...Osamu had simply appeared beside you in one fluid, prowling motion - broad chest heaving slightly and intense eyes burning into yours with laser focus.

Before you could even suck down enough air for a startled yelp, his calloused palm curved around your nape with surprising reverence and urgency - tilting your head just enough to slot your parted lips together in a scorching, fevered collision. One that robbed what little oxygen remained in your lungs completely as Osamu sealed his mouth over yours in a heated glide of rasping demand.

You whimpered helplessly against the searing onslaught despite every rational cell screaming at the sudden freefall. And as Osamu growled in response, tongue delving deeper to chase the trembling surrender in your very marrow, you found yourself clutching his shirt in desperation - torn between shoving him away or clinging for dear life in the rapturous storm.

Just as quickly as the explosive fusion ignited, however, Osamu was tearing himself away with a harsh inhale. You stared at each other in twin states of dumbstruck bewilderment - both panting harshly and thoroughly awash in the lingering aftermath of whatever that was.

Before you could unstick your frozen tongue enough to articulate the maelstrom of shock and confusion ricocheting between your ears, Osamu leaned in once more and pressed a single, shuddering exhale against your damp lips.

"Bags...yeah, lemme get those inside for you first," he rasped out in a wrecked rumble that made your knees go weak all over again for an entirely different reason now.

You blinked at him owlishly for a beat, still reeling from the molten collision that had just blurred every line between you mere moments ago. But true to form, your oldest friend simply turned and began hauling your numerous suitcases from the car's trunk without further preamble.

Despite the electric tension still sparking over every nerve ending, you found yourself falling back into familiar patterns without conscious thought - gathering the smaller carry-ons and preceding him up the front walk towards your new apartment's entrance.

Neither of you spoke a word beyond the occasional directional murmur as you located the right door and disarmed the lock. An outside observer would find nothing remotely amiss about the scene unfolding between two people who'd known each other longer than most could fathom.

Yet the lack of acknowledgment regarding Osamu's heated outburst out by the curb only amplified the sense of dizzying unreality now draped over your shoulders. Had that happened at all? Or maybe it was simply the thrilling first flickers of an intoxicating dream bleeding into waking life for once?

You couldn't resist darting quick, sidelong glances at him from beneath your lashes as Osamu moved about depositing your luggage throughout the front room. He didn't seem disturbed in the slightest - features settled into those same stoic, carefully neutral lines you knew better than your own reflection.

Only the occasional flare of his nostrils or reflexive bob of his throat as he swallowed betrayed the lingering heat simmering just below the surface each time your gazes happened to intersect accidentally. It made you dizzy, this bizarre vacillation from unholy passion back to mundane patterns - like a vicious rubber band stretched taut before snapping loose without warning over and over.

Eventually, the final bag thudded into the pile and Osamu straightened to regard you head-on once more. Any sardonic quips about your inability to pack lightly died on your tongue as you took in the weight of that piercing steel-gray stare boring into you with renewed intensity.

Before you knew what was happening, Osamu stalked forward in three prowling strides that should've had your senses shrieking in instinctive retreat. But all you could manage was a trembling inhale as he backed you up against the nearest wall with purposeful possession - caging you in on both sides with those powerful forearms.

"'Samu, what—"

Whatever feeble protest your addled mind scrambled to summon withered entirely as Osamu dipped his head and sealed his mouth over yours in another explosive, wholly unexpected fusion. You moaned outright this time, relishing the smoky musk and cedar wood notes of his scent enveloping you in a rapturous shroud as his tongue swept inside.

Osamu groaned in answering delight, drinking down each needy little keen as he set about ravaging you with delirious single-minded intent. One broad palm cradled the nape of your neck to keep you angled vulnerably for his thorough possession - tilting and angling your parted lips to grant him deeper access.

You clutched at the firm muscles bracketing your waist mindlessly, nails raking with every desperate roll of your hips chasing more friction against his undulating form. Only when your ragged gasps pitched higher in the rapidly fogging air did Osamu finally tear away with a harsh inhale - though he made no move to disentangle from your helpless sprawl entirely.

The weight of his intense gaze as he studied your disheveled, panting state robbed you of any coherent protests still rattling in the disjointed remnants of your mind. Instead, you simply watched in transfixed awe as Osamu leaned in once more to ghost a revenant swipe of his tongue over your damp, kiss-swollen lips.

"Tomorrow, [Y/N]," he rumbled in a voice gone to gravel and sin made flesh against the vulnerable juncture of your throat. "First thing, or I'm not gonna be able to keep my hands off you much longer..."

You could only keen feebly as his teeth nipped at the slender column there in reprimand before Osamu withdrew entirely on another scalding exhale. He pinned you with one final, simmering look that promised so many more unholy delights to come in its depths before turning on his heel.

"I'll see you at the shop for sure," he tossed over his shoulder in that same careless drawl tinged with husky promise now. "Get some rest while you still can..."

And on that confounding parting note, Osamu slipped back out into the shadowed hallway beyond - pausing only briefly to toss you one final lingering look that made your thighs tremble instinctively. Before the echo of his footfalls faded from your consciousness entirely, you were pressed back against the wall with leaden limbs and breath still coming in sharp staccato bursts.

What had just happened? Or rather, what cosmic floodgates had finally been irrevocably pried open in one heated, unspoken downpour that threatened to shatter every known facet of your relationship with Osamu entirely?

You had no idea. But one glaring truth blazed forth in blinding clarity despite your spinning disorientation still:

Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough...

You tried not to dwell too heavily on the loaded implications laced through Osamu's parting words as you dragged yourself through your nightly routine in a bit of a daze. But no matter how you tried distracting yourself with mundane tasks and unpacking, flashes of his smoldering stare kept creeping in - stoking the lingering butterflies still rioting in your belly.

Sleep eventually claimed you in fits and bursts, restless dreams threaded through with phantom caresses and rasping whispers that left you gasping awake more than once. By the time your alarm blared into wakefulness the next morning, you felt more drained yet feverishly buzzing with anticipation than ever.

Getting ready on autopilot, you hyper-focused on simply making it through the immediate challenge ahead - seeing Osamu at his little onigiri shop as promised, as if nothing earth-shattering had erupted between you both last night. The entire walk over felt charged, every breath filling your lungs with the same heady tension that had cloaked over you in his presence since the airport reunion.

Except this time, you couldn't shove aside the implications behind each lingering look or simmering flicker in those intense pewter irises quite so easily. Not after finally shattering that fragile line forever with a few stolen, heated kisses that should've set your entire world ablaze completely.

The familiar ring of the bell above the door sent a little thrill through you as you stepped into Osamu's onigiri shop. Despite the lingering tension and unspoken implications smoldering between you since last night's...encounter, you were determined to simply enjoy being back in your oldest friend's presence again.

"Well, well, if it isn't Mrs. I-Can't-Be-Bothered-To-Call-First gracing us all with her presence," Osamu's rich baritone greeted you over the muted bustle of the small lunchtime rush.

You shot him a saucy grin, reveling in the familiar banter as you approached the counter. "Keep that sass up and I won't share the souvenirs I brought back for your ungrateful ass, mister."

Osamu's lips twitched upwards in that subtle yet utterly devastating half-smile you adored so much, eyes crinkling warmly even as he scoffed. "Like I'd want any of your weird knickknack junk cluttering up my shop anyway."

The two of you continued trading playful insults and jabs as you settled onto a stool, content to simply soak in Osamu's presence again after so long apart. Any residual tension from last night's explosive shared moment seemed to settle on the back burner as you fell back into the easy cadence that had anchored your connection for literal decades.

Osamu drifted back and forth behind the counter while simultaneously tending to orders, keeping up a steady stream of dry quips and smirks pitched just for your amusement all the while. You matched him step for step in turn, biting back laughter whenever his gruff one-liners proved too much. This was where you both thrived - bouncing off each other's sarcastic frequency with sublime ease and a profound intimacy that no years or distance between you could ever fracture.

At least, that was what you kept repeating like a mantra in the back of your mind whenever glimpses of that scorching intensity flickered through Osamu's gorgeous pewter gaze whenever it tracked over your features. A molten reminder of the unraveling tension you'd only just whetted the surface of the night before...

You tried valiantly to ignore the flutter of butterflies swooping through your belly each time without fail. Tossing out another sly rejoinder instead, just to reinforce the sense of normalcy and comfort this was all supposed to be about. Just old friends reuniting after too long apart, nothing more complicated than that.

Yet as the afternoon hours wound lazily by, you couldn't quite smother the rising anticipation prickling over your nerves anew. Osamu seemed utterly unruffled and focused on his work, but you felt his gaze lingering more often than not - studying you with an inscrutable heat dancing in those striking irises.

By the time evening rolled around and the last customers slowly trickled out, shouting their thanks and well-wishes over their shoulders, you felt strangely adrift despite the lingering warmth of reconnecting with Osamu again all day.

As your oldest friend waved them off with typical gruffness, you found yourself slipping back into the familiar comforting routines you'd fallen into while at his house a lifetime ago - gathering stray dishes, wiping down the countertops, straightening each of the comfy armchairs you both favored during quieter hours.

So absorbed were you in the mundane motions and reliving aged memories attached to every nook and cranny of the humble onigiri shop, you completely missed the distinct sound of the front door locking behind you. Nor did you notice the sudden weighted silence draped over the space like a physical presence until a solid wall of blazing heat pressed flush against your back.

You gasped sharply, frozen mid-motion before a large palm splayed over your abdomen - callused fingertips digging into the pliant give of your waist with delicious possession as your captor rumbled approval against your nape.

"There's my good girl," Osamu growled in a voice gone to scorching gravel that made you flush instantly. "All dolled up and playing at being the obedient little helper again for me...you know damn well that disguise won't fly anymore after last night, don't you baby?"

You trembled despite your best efforts, breath hitching as he nuzzled deeper into the fragrant tangle of your hair - lips skating over the thundering pulse at your throat in maddening prelude. Every powerful shift and roll of his taut muscle caged you between the iron brands of his arms deliciously.

"O-Osamu..." you somehow managed to whimper out, torn between protesting his sultry accusations or surrendering to the delirious current already pulling at your senses with dizzying force.

His low, dark chuckle reverberated straight through your attenuated nerves anew as one broad palm anchored itself over your belly, dragging you snug against the unforgiving planes of his chest in a slow, sinuous grind. You gasped at the unmistakable hardness of his cock etching against the supple curve of your ass - slick fabric doing nothing to conceal the virile intent radiating off your oldest friend in molten waves now.

"Such a pretty show you put on all day long, hm?" Osamu purred in a tone dripping with raw masculine approval - the other hand palming the generous swell of your breast as if to emphasize the point. "Playing coy and innocent like you weren't creaming those pretty little panties at the very thought of me pinning you down and giving it to you proper..."

Another whimper slipped free as his clever fingers rolled and plucked at your taut nipple through the thin material - teasing sparks of electric pleasure arcing straight down to your thrumming core. You instinctively arched back into the furnace of his powerful frame, head lolling as he lavished open-mouthed kisses along your arched throat.

"And you know what the best part is, my sweet?" he growled out darkly between each searing caress and bruising nips. "You never even noticed… how much I’ve been thinking about you all these years, just like this..."

Before you could form a single coherent protest, Osamu spun you effortlessly to pin you facing him - sculpted chest heaving and pewter gaze blown wide with unfettered lust and blistering possession. You stared up at your oldest friend in wonder, utterly transfixed by the unholy intent simmering in his every smoldering look and dexterous touch now.

This was your Osamu - indelible anchor and source of joy turned singular rapture incarnate, trapping you within the scorching gravity well of his ravenous focus entirely. And you'd never felt so deliriously desirous of sinking into its cavernous depths without hope of reprieve or salvation beyond what he chose to impart through the profane benedictions of his lips and hands alone.

As if sensing your silent, wanton surrender in that suspended heartbeat, the smallest smirk curved those full lips you'd already been branded by in delicious perpetuity. Osamu dragged the seam of his mouth over yours in a featherlight tease - tongue flicking out to taste the trembling whimpers he'd already coaxed forth so expertly.

"So what do you say, pretty girl?" he growled in a tone that promised euphoria and rapture in equal measures. "Are you gonna be good and take what I've been dreaming of giving you for far too long now, hm?"

You could only whimper and nod shakily, already undone by the sheer virile promise simmering in his scorching stare as he captured your mouth in a searing, unraveling glide of possession that ignited every nerve ending instantaneously. As Osamu hoisted you up effortlessly, strong hands cradling the plush swell of your ass and squeezing with unrepentant glee as you twined your limbs around him instinctively, the last vestiges of restraint and hesitation were obliterated entirely.

And this time, neither of you had the slightest intention of looking back...

"Mmm, there we go, baby," Osamu purred against the tender flesh of your throat as he strode across the modest expanse of the onigiri shop. "God, the things I've wanted to do to you since we were stupid teenagers - you have no idea..."

You moaned feebly, utterly lost to the sensation of being carried effortlessly in those strong arms - cradled and claimed so effortlessly in turn. Every step sent sparks of electric arousal skittering along the hypersensitive pathways of your nerves as the rigid press of his cock strained the zipper of his jeans, rubbing torturous friction over the dampened apex of your thighs.

You'd always adored his size and stature, but the sheer virility thrumming off Osamu's powerful form as he pinned you against the nearest wall and devoured your mouth whole was an intoxicating revelation in and of itself.

Osamu growled in wordless appreciation as you arched your spine and rolled your hips - grinding and squirming desperately in pursuit of more. He tore away with a harsh curse, pewter irises glinting with the same ravenous desire still pulsing through you.

"You're not making this easy on me, sweet girl," he bit out roughly, though his tone was threaded through with that same possessive approval.

He punctuated the point by pinning you flat against the wall, his larger body caging yours effortlessly as the rock-hard length of his cock wedged right against the sopping seam of your panties. You mewled, helpless and aching as the first hint of his impressive size and girth registered in the foggy recesses of your mind.

"Naughty girl, making such a mess of those pretty panties already," he chided, rocking his hips once for emphasis as you keened and shuddered. "What am I gonna do with you, hm? Maybe I'll just have to get a taste, see what kind of honey my sweet little girl is dripping just for me..."

And before you could fully comprehend the implications of his husky taunts, Osamu was on his knees - dragging your panties down your thighs in one smooth motion as he nuzzled against the soft mound of your pussy. The first swipe of his clever tongue dragged a ragged cry from your lips as you fisted his silken hair desperately.

Osamu chuckled darkly, lapping and slurping in filthy, wet strokes that made you flush hot with utter wanton embarrassment. He was licking you clean, tongue laving over your soaked folds and sucking them greedily - drinking down the slick evidence of your needy desire and groaning in satisfaction.

"So fucking sweet," he growled, gripping the generous swell of your ass and dragging you closer. "Been waiting forever to find out what you taste like, sweet girl, and it's even better than I ever dreamed..."

"O-samu..."

You had no idea what was even trying to tumble out past your wrecked whimpers, but the sight of his dark head buried between your quivering thighs, devouring your pussy like a man starved was enough to send you reeling. Osamu's gaze snapped upwards, glittering and predatory - a lethal combination that made you throb and clench hungrily.

"Tell me how much you love it," he commanded silkily, even as he resumed his relentless oral assault - two thick digits sinking deep and curling in a come-hither motion that made your eyes roll back instantly.

"T-too much," you whimpered, writhing and grinding helplessly into his ministrations. "Too good, O-Osamu...I'm gonna..."

He tutted, pulling away abruptly to lap at the creamy rivulets dripping down the plump swell of your thigh. "Already, sweet girl? But we're just getting started...unless you'd rather just cum on my tongue first, hm? Get a few rounds out of the way before I really fuck you how you deserve..."

"Please," you sobbed, shaking your head and reaching out to tangle your fingers through the silky tresses of his hair. "Want you, O-samu...wanna cum on your cock..."

Osamu chuckled darkly, peppering a trail of nips and kisses as he dragged his mouth back over the swollen folds of your pussy - lapping and slurping noisily. You moaned, arching back into the delicious torture as the tension coiled tighter, ready to snap and send you crashing into bliss.

Just as your release hovered within tantalizing reach, Osamu pulled away completely - leaving you gasping and trembling against the wall as he rose to his feet. You whimpered, feeling the loss of his wicked mouth and the sudden emptiness that left you aching.

"Shh, baby, it's okay," he soothed, cradling your jaw in a palm that dwarfed your features and kissing you soundly. The taste of your own juices on his lips made you groan anew, clinging to his shoulders as his other hand stroked your spine in lazy, soothing circles. "You'll get your turn, my sweet girl, don't worry."

Somehow, his raspy purr managed to ground you and center you once more - bringing you back to the present moment and the promise of euphoric release still waiting in the wings. You blinked up at Osamu, dazed and needy as you nodded slowly.

His answering smirk sent a fresh wave of butterflies swarming in your belly as he scooped you into his arms and carried you off once more - this time, through the doorway at the end of the small hallway that led to the stairs up to his apartment.

By the time the door swung open, your heart was racing in anticipation. Osamu didn't bother turning the lights on, navigating the familiar space with ease. A lamp flickered to life a few moments later, casting the cozy bedroom in a warm glow as he deposited you onto the plush duvet.

You barely had a chance to glance around the room, soaking in the subtle changes that had been wrought in the intervening years, before he was looming over you again - gaze smoldering and a hungry smile tugging at his full lips.

"Now, where were we, my sweet?"

You were all too eager to pull him down on top of you - mouths crashing together in a wild clash of teeth and tongues that only made the desire pulsing between your thighs that much more urgent. You tugged impatiently at his shirt, desperate to feel his heated skin sliding against your own.

Osamu obliged readily, stripping out of the offending garment and tossing it aside. His hands roamed greedily over your body, dragging the hem of your dress up and off in one fluid motion - leaving you in nothing but the thin scrap of lace covering your breasts.

The sight of his broad palms skating over your naked torso made your breath hitch, arching and shivering in response. Osamu took his sweet time, palming and kneading the soft give of your flesh, his eyes never once straying from the sight.

"Always so perfect," he groaned, thumbing over your taut nipples and dragging another needy mewl free. "Gonna make such a perfect mama someday, sweet girl. Fuck, I can't wait to breed you properly..."

Your entire body flushed with heat at the lurid promise - the mental image of yourself, full and heavy with his child, too enticing for words. He smirked at the visible reaction, tweaking your sensitive nipples again as he ducked down to claim your mouth in a possessive kiss.

"That's what you want, isn't it?" he growled against the swollen plushness of your lips, his hips grinding down and dragging the rigid line of his cock over your sweat-slick tummy. "Want me to stuff you full and breed you good and proper, my sweet girl?"

You could only whimper, nodding shakily as you fumbled with the buckle of his belt. "Please, Osamu," you mewled, tugging impatiently at the waistband of his jeans and boxers until his cock sprang free - long and thick and heavy and oh, God...

A guttural groan ripped free from the depths of his chest, his grip tightening as he rutted his hips - cock dragging over the soft flesh of your tummy, slicking it with beads of pre-cum. You shuddered, already feeling the pulse and twitch of his length as it throbbed and ached.

"Gotta get you ready for me first," Osamu rasped, pressing a bruising kiss against the curve of your throat and shoulder before rolling off of you and onto his back. "Why don't you be a good girl and help me out a little, hm?"

He was already yanking his jeans down and shoving them off his hips - exposing the sculpted v-cut that dipped towards the impressive length jutting from the thatch of silky dark curls. You could only nod, already leaning over and reaching out for the molten shaft.

Osamu caught your wrist easily, giving a gentle squeeze as his gaze burned. "Nuh-uh, sweet girl. Mouth only, got it? I don't wanna make a mess just yet, and I know you're more than capable of swallowing me down..."

Another rush of heat surged through you, flushing your cheeks with humiliation and desire as you nodded eagerly. The salty tang of his precum made your mouth water as you licked a teasing swipe from root to tip, savoring the musky flavor and relishing in the way Osamu hissed sharply.

"Such a pretty thing, just as hungry for my cock as I am for that sweet cunt of yours, huh?" he purred, carding his fingers through the disheveled tangle of your hair with an unmistakable possessiveness. "I’ve been dreaming of this for so long, sweet girl. Dreaming of feeding you my cock until I stuff that pretty throat full..."

You couldn't help the needy mewl that escaped, tongue darting out to lave over the crown once more before swallowing the broad head and suckling gently. Osamu groaned, hips stuttering and grip tightening as he forced himself not to thrust upwards.

"F-fuck, just like that, sweet girl," he growled, his voice strained. "Wanna feel you choke on it a little, think you can take it?"

You whimpered in response, relaxing your jaw and sinking down further - inch by slow inch until you could feel him nudging against the back of your throat. Osamu cursed, hips flexing instinctively and sending his cock that much deeper as you choked and sputtered, drool slipping down his shaft and coating his balls.

"Oh, f-fuck, sweetheart, look at you...taking my cock so good, just like I knew you would," he groaned, hips rolling lazily as he fucked the tight channel of your throat. Your jaw ached, throat protesting as he slid in and out. Tears pooled at the corners of your eyes, and you fought the urge to cough and gag. It was overwhelming, a sensation bordering on too much, and yet you wanted nothing more than to feel the hot ropes of his cum sliding down your throat and filling your belly.

Osamu's breaths came in rough pants, the muscles of his abdomen clenching and releasing as he drove his cock deeper with every thrust. His gaze was fixed on the spot where your lips were stretched taut around his shaft, groaning in approval when he felt the press of your tongue along the underside of his cock.

"So good, baby, s-so fucking good," he grunted, his hips snapping a little faster, a little harder, chasing the inevitable release. You swallowed and choked around him, gagging and gasping for breath, but still you sucked him down greedily - determined to make him cum.

You were a vision, tears streaking down your flushed cheeks, mascara leaving streaks in their wake as Osamu used your throat. And it was everything he had ever imagined it would be and more. The sounds of your messy, desperate little gags and choked off whimpers sent fresh pulses of pleasure skittering along his nerves.

His balls tightened, a familiar ache thrumming through the shaft of his cock, and he knew he wouldn't last much longer. He fucked into the tight suction of your mouth, the head of his cock bumping the back of your throat and forcing you to swallow reflexively.

"G-gonna cum," he gritted out, tugging roughly at the roots of your hair. "Want you to drink it all down, baby. Every last drop, just like the greedy girl you are. S-so fucking close..."

Your tongue darted out, lapping at the droplets of precum oozing from the tip and swallowing hungrily. Osamu groaned, eyes screwing shut and mouth falling open as his cock twitched and jerked - spilling rope after rope of hot, salty seed directly down the tight channel of your undulating throat.

You coughed and spluttered, fighting to swallow as much as you could, but Osamu held your head firmly in place, riding the aftershocks as he chased every ounce of pleasure. His eyes glinted when you finally pulled away, a mixture of triumph and lust making them glitter dangerously.

"Such a good girl," he crooned, cupping your cheek and tracing the swell of your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. You mewled quietly, tongue darting out to catch the smear of milky white coating the digit.

"Mm, so good," he growled, his cock already beginning to harden again at the sight. "But we're not done yet, are we, sweet girl? That greedy little cunt of yours is still practically begging for my cock, isn't it? Gonna fill you up until there's no room left..."

You moaned, nodding eagerly and leaning forward to steal a hungry kiss, the lingering flavor of his cum still coating your tongue. Osamu returned the kiss greedily, one hand fisting in the tangled locks of your hair, while the other tugged at the scrap of fabric still covering your breasts.

With a growl, he tore the lace, the shredded fabric joining the growing pile on the floor as his lips dragged over the tender swell of your breasts. Osamu paused, sucking and nipping a path from one sensitive nipple to the other before closing his lips around the puckered bud.

You keened, writhing helplessly beneath him, but the hand gripping the back of your skull held you fast. The wet sounds of his mouth and the occasional scrape of teeth was almost enough to distract you from the fingers that had worked their way between your legs - slipping and sliding through the sloppy mess of your pussy with ease.

"Fuck, you really did make a mess of yourself," he muttered, sucking harder on the swollen bud as his fingers curled and sank deeper, searching and probing with single-minded intent. "Bet I could make you cum right now if I wanted, just like this, huh, sweet girl?"

"N-no," you whined, shaking your head even as the coil of pressure threatened to snap. "W-want your cock, 'Samu...need you to fuck me..."

He chuckled darkly, withdrawing his fingers and dragging the slick digits over the plump mound of your breast - coating the sensitive flesh with the evidence of your arousal. "Don't worry, sweet girl, I'm not gonna leave you empty. Gonna give you everything you need..."

The words were barely out of his mouth before he was on top of you once more, pinning you against the mattress as he slotted between your trembling thighs. The blunt head of his cock nudged against your swollen, aching pussy, and you nearly sobbed with relief.

"Tell me," Osamu grunted, the first few inches of his length sinking into your welcoming heat. "Tell me you need me, sweet girl. Tell me who's gonna take care of you and fuck you so good."

"Y-you, Osamu," you sobbed, the sensation of being so completely filled already bringing the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes once more. "I n-need you...I've always needed you, Osamu, please, please, please..."

He groaned, the sound almost pained as he sank the final inch and buried himself to the hilt. You were stretched taut around him, a perfect fit for his cock and his cock alone, and it was so much better than he could have ever dreamed.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this, sweet girl," he gritted out, hips snapping roughly as he fucked into you. "How many nights I spent fucking my fist just thinking about you, wishing it was your perfect cunt squeezing the cum right outta me...and now I get to have you, fuck, I never wanna let you go..."

"Y-yours, Osamu," you moaned, clinging desperately to his shoulders as he set a punishing pace, the slap of his skin against yours echoing through the small bedroom. "Always been yours..."

He snarled, hips stuttering slightly at the confession. It had been far too easy to believe otherwise in the years apart, but with you clinging to him, begging and pleading for more, the truth was undeniable.

You were his.

Osamu was all too happy to remind you of that fact - his fingers digging bruises into your hips as he rutted into you with wild abandon. The bedframe creaked and groaned, the headboard thudding loudly against the wall as he drove into you with single-minded focus.

"F-fuck, 'm close," he panted, sweat beading along his brow. "G-gonna fill this pretty cunt with so much cum, baby, fuck, 'm gonna breed you just like I promised...get you all nice and heavy, m-make sure everyone knows you're mine."

Your own orgasm was barreling towards you, coiling tighter and tighter with every rough snap of his hips. His name was a breathless mantra falling from your lips, fingers clutching desperately at the muscles of his back, as if afraid that letting go meant he would vanish.

"That's it, baby, cum for me," Osamu grunted, a particularly sharp thrust striking the hidden bundle of nerves inside you that made you see stars. "Let me feel you cum on my cock, [Y/N]. Gotta fill this cunt up just right, wanna watch it drip out, oh, f-fuck, please...please, 'm so fucking close..."

It was as though his words had flipped a switch, pleasure pulsing through your veins as the coil snapped. You sobbed his name, clinging to him as your entire body shuddered and shook, muscles contracting and fluttering around the molten length stretching you so deliciously.

Osamu cursed, the tight, pulsating squeeze of your pussy proving too much as he thrust once, twice more, burying himself to the hilt as he came. Thick ropes of his cum painted your walls, coating them with a white-hot heat that had your eyes rolling back.

He collapsed on top of you, burying his face against the damp curve of your throat and muffling his own desperate cries as he emptied himself completely. The room fell silent, save for the ragged, hitching pants of your breaths as you clung to one another.

It took several long moments for your senses to return, and when they did, it was to the comforting weight of Osamu still sprawled across you, his arms wrapped around your torso and his lips pressed to the thundering pulse of your neck.

You sighed softly, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, and let yourself enjoy the warmth and comfort for just a little while longer.

The rest would come soon enough.

[anundyingfidelity]

DEVOTION — Dean, Sam

Summary: You get into the path of the Winchester brothers, and since then, nothing is the same once a bond strictly agreed for pleasure is created between you and them. When they want, they follow you, and you know they always follow.

Pairing: Dean x goddess of rain reader x Sam

Word count: 2,1k.

Warnings: smut, threesome, vaginal sex, anal sex (no dp, sorry i failed as a slut in here), voyeurism, light choking, light spanking, marking, praising, light degradation, pet names, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, oral - male receiving (female receiving mentioned), facefucking, fingering, hints to aftercare, p*rn without much plot honestly.

Also my main language is not english just in case lmao, enjoy! and thanks everyone for the encouragement on this. <3

GEN MASTERLIST!

“Oh, Dean…” you gasp as pleasure takes you.

The softness of your skin on top of him, his rough hands gripping tightly on your sides and rubbing your ass cheeks create a familiar sensation you yearn for too much. Every time it is like electricity is running all down your spine.

He takes your thrusts as you ride him with soft, deep groans falling off his beautiful plump lips. His hips are pushing up just a little, so he can let you know how desperate he is for you. Of feeling you, of filling up your pussy with his seed and marking you with his nails and the rough touch of his fingers.

Sam watches from afar, sitting comfortably in the softness of a sofa. He has all the perfect view from there as Dean spreads your ass cheeks and rubs your slit with two fingers, feeling the place where you two connect sinfully.

This is not new for any of you.

When they found you during a case involving powerful deities, you had agreed to help them as payment for freeing you from a curse that was keeping you chained and with no strength for decades. Professional hunting questions turned into favors, and favors turned into a somewhat weird relationship where they called you once something got difficult. They just prayed to you and then you would show up in a few minutes. Fair to say, you never let them down, not never.

It was one night then after a couple of tough weeks on a hunt, in which you couldn’t control yourself, that Dean had the impulse of calming you with a kiss in front of his brother.

Much to your surprise, it worked. The storm and thunder dissipated slowly, and soon, all of your clothes disappeared, inviting Sam to join in the process. At first, it was more like an unspoken deal, just talking about the essentials: what you like, what you are not up to, your turn ons, your turn offs… They were so into you, and you desired them just the same.

In the beginning, you underestimated the Winchesters being mere mortals, sometimes getting themselves into problems they most likely won’t solve or make it out alive. But that was what you loved about them. Even being simple humans, they proved how much they could worship a goddess, breaking you and putting you back together, again and again.

Your sweet moans and breath hitching echoes in the room. Sam immediately knows you’re on the verge of getting to heaven, until it happens in front of his eyes. Your legs tremble, your nails dig into his brother’s bare shoulders, his rough grip on your hips forcing you up and down while you ride your high. Sam is not even looking at your face, but his cock twitches and he licks his lips unconsciously as he pictures your plump mouth open and your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Of all the women he had fucked, you were simply ethereal. His brother had agreed about that before.

You lean to kiss Dean in your afterglow, sloppy and wet, rolling your hips just slowly to keep torturing him. A devilishly smirk appears on your lips when he grunts against your mouth. Before he cums, you pull away and get off him. His cock is hard as a rock, and you just give him a greater mischievous smile and a hard stroke, coating his shaft with your juices. He gasps, giving a shallow thrust into your hand.

“Stop teasing,” Dean warns.

“I’m not, just preparing you,” you say, faking your innocence, something you know you don’t have at all. Not while they are here.

You give a look at Sam, who’s been waiting on your sofa almost the whole time, and he looks more than ready to have his way with you. Legs spread, clothes gone, he looks at you as if you were the treasure he never knew existed.

“I need to take care of him too, don’t be a selfish jerk,” you wink at Dean and call his younger brother to your bed. “Come here, Sammy,” you voice out, crawling to the edge of the mattress and staying on your hands and knees for him.

He does obey immediately, taking long strides and he stops in front of you, in all his bare glory and you bite your lip, picturing all the ways he would ruin you right now.

You might be the deity they found on earth, but you always awed at how they could be real.

Sam’s hand tangles into your hair before he bends down to taste your lips.

“Which hole are you choosing for tonight?” you ask once he pulls away.

He caresses your bottom lip with his thumb before pushing in between your lips. You suck on it with a moan.

“Right now I just wanna fuck your mouth,” Sam growls. “Get my reward for eating your pussy so fucking good…”

You tremble with excitement, reminiscing about the first orgasm you had for the night thanks to his wonderful lips and wet tongue.

He pulls his thumb away all of the sudden and instead of his finger, you’re now with his tip brushing your lips before he finally pushes in.

You wrap your lips around the head of his dick, earning a moan from his throat that causes you to clench your thighs together.

“Oh, shit,” he hisses once his dick hits the back of your throat, and you gag just a little with eyes shut. “You always feel so good no matter what hole I pick.”

Sam’s big hands grab the sides of your face to keep you in place and his hips then thrust into the wetness of your mouth. His pounding starts with a fast pace, and you continuously gag and breathe through your nose.

Dean, who’s sitting down on the mattress at the head of the bed, doesn’t have the complete picture of you, but he has the perfect view of your ass and your pussy, glistening with your own wetness, swollen and used by his cock, his fingers and also Sam’s fingers and mouth. He’s fighting the urge to cum right away. Your moans, or at least the sounds you’re trying to make with your throat stuffed, are too sweet for him to hold back. He can cum by only hearing you squirm. But he tries not to, just giving himself light strokes as he observes the show you’re putting up for him.

You're drooling and spitting when Sam pulls out abruptly from your mouth and you eagerly raise a hand to wrap it around his cock, giving light kisses and licks on his shaft.

“What a cockslut you are,” Sam grunts.

You rub your thighs again at his dirty words, and you start sucking him off at your own pace now, hollowing your cheeks and tasting his precum in the process.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Dean mumbles and decides it is enough.

He crawls behind you, grabs your hips and rubs his cock between your folds and your clit before slamming inside, earning something between a gasp and a moan that sounds too good falling from your lips.

“Your pussy is taking me so fucking well,” Dean starts off his praises, and you clench around his cock hitting your right spots over and over. He moves a finger between your legs to rub your clit and force another orgasm from your body. “Yeah, just like that…”

You cry out and withdraw from Sam’s cock for a moment, whining as Dean fucks you hard. You’re so certain that his hands will leave marks on your skin, but that is just a reminder of what he can do to you anytime. Is not too long until he cums balls deep in your cunt, fucking his seed into you until you feel too sensitive that you stop sucking on Sam’s cock.

“Fuck, she’s so tight,” Dean whispers. He pulls out and watches some drops of his own cum sliding between your legs before going back to Sam with a satisfied smile on his lips. “Wanna use this one?”

One of Sam’s hands moves under your chin, forcing you to look up at him with big eyes.

“Better fill you up properly, right, baby?” Sam says sweetly and you nod.

“Use your words, tell us what you want,” he insists and you gasp and jump a little when Dean gives a spank on your ass cheek.

“Please fuck my ass,” you whimper. “Please fill me up…”

Another light spank from Dean forces a breathy moan out of you.

As you feel Dean shifting behind you on the bed, you still could not comprehend how gentle Sam’s voice can sound sometimes, yet his actions and the guilty pleasure he gives you are totally the opposite. And unlike Sam, Dean is a very straightforward man. He gives orders and you comply, if you are in the mood that’s it. He can be rough and raw if you ask him to, but he can also be caring and tender. It doesn’t matter how they give it to you, in the end you love their own ways of fucking you up completely.

A cold substance is poured on your ass, and you feel Dean’s fingers on your tight hole. Sam leans down to kiss you lovingly when Dean pushes in thick digit to stretch you out. He starts with a slow pace and you relax with Sam kissing you softly, his fingers rubbing your nipples and tits to help you ease the light discomfort that takes over you. Little by little, you’re able to take two fingers, and then you crave for more.

They handle your body softly, until you’re meeting with Dean face to face again and Sam takes a hold of your hips before lining up with your ass. He slowly slides in, inch by inch, kissing your back and rubbing your clit with his fingers to calm you down. You stay still for a moment to get used to the intrusion.

Dean observes you as his brother takes your wrists until your back is against his chest, one of his hands wrapped around your neck without making any pressure. You feel Sam’s breath on your skin and how some locks of his hair brush softly, while Dean’s eyes roam all over your body.

“I’m not gonna last longer,” Sam whispers in a husky voice against your ear.

“Don’t care.”

Your words are enough to drive him crazy. His thrusts become quick too sudden and he stretches so amazingly good that you’re left blank and speechless for a moment. All you feel is his cock, swollen and throbbing, hitting your deepest places and his fingers on your cunt before he fucks you roughly with them too.

Now you feel full.

“Absolutely beautiful like this,” Dean mumbles praises with a dark tone and your walls clench. Fuck, how you love him worshipping all of you.

You feel his hands grabbing your breasts as they bounce with each thrust, playing gently with your nipples.

“Oh shit, I’m so close again,” you gasp, feeling another climax building up.

Sam’s hands leave your wrists and your cunt, and move down to your hips, grunting sweetly as he continues fucking you senseless, and it almost feels like heaven right away. Dean takes it as a chance to plug two of his fingers inside your cunt, and you close your eyes when you cum anew.

“Fuck, you cum so damn fast,” Dean kisses you harshly, swallowing your cries of pleasure against his mouth, all while still rubbing your walls and curling his fingers.

Your own orgasm triggers Sam, and he finally releases inside you. He slows down to a sloppy, calm rhythm, fucking his own climax into you. With a low groan, Sam withdraws out of your tight hole and Dean pulls his fingers out of your pulsing cunt.

The three of you remain still, hearing each other’s heart rate until a soft rain starts outside.

Dean grins against your mouth. “You okay?”

You nod weakly. “Yeah, I’m perfect.”

“Rain gives up pretty much what you’re feeling,” Sam says, shifting behind you. “I take this one as feeling great.”

“Much more than that,” you mumble, collapsing on top of your mattress with a satisfied smile on your lips.

They shift and move around your bedroom, looking for a cloth to clean you up. You share lazy kisses and soft touches on skin before you set up a proper bath.

Tomorrow another hunt awaits, but you’re happy to be in your sacred temple with these two mortals who happened to rescue you just in time to fuck your brains out and get worshipped exactly like you deserved.

tags for this filthy thing thanks lmaooo:

@thesilmarillionblog @cheynovak @ninii-winchester @slut-for-evans-stan @laputafavdeenzovogrincic

[wileys-russo]

hello! a silly request, but can you write something alessia x reader along the lines where they are representing different brands (adidas/nike), but reader got new shoes/boots/etc and she doesn’t want to get them dirty so alessia offers to carry her! the motion gets caught and becomes the face of a new ad cover for the shoe and everyone teases alessia! thanks a bunch!

air russo II a.russo

"fresh ones today?" you looked up and rolled your eyes at the cheeky smile above you. "they want me to take some photos in them, training is an easy time to get that done and professionally." you explained, kyra nodding along.

"go away kyra." you sighed knowing the australian was hardly ever up to good when she had that smile on her face. "white is an interesting choice. have you checked the weather today?" her grin widened as she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet.

"no, i don't watch the forecast every day pest. go away!" you kicked at her, smacking her hands away from the box of fresh boots. "kyra." you glanced behind the girl as your girlfriend appeared, poking the australian in the back and raising an eyebrow as she turned.

"leave her alone." alessia warned, pushing at her shoulders and moving to sit down next to you. "you two make me sick." the midfielder gagged dramatically, whining as steph walked past and smacked her upside the head, sending you a wink before kyra took off after her.

"i missed you." you laughed at your girlfriends words, kissing her cheek and shaking your head. "hey! say it back." she poked at your ribs making you laugh louder and push her hands off.

"less its been thirty minutes since i last saw you." you teased, kicking off your slides and bending down to slip your boots on. "and i missed you every single minute." your girlfriend sighed having just returned from a quick physio check up, leaning her body into yours.

"didn't you miss me?" she mumbled into your back, arms slung around your neck as you pushed your feet into your boots. "no." you shrugged, squealing as she pinched you. "alessia!" you huffed trying to sit up as she leaned into you more.

"say you missed me." the blonde grumbled, poking at your cheek as your eyes rolled. "get off me and i just might." you heard a huff and felt her sit up allowing you to do the same. "i missed you too, needy." you gently patted her cheek.

"less!" you laughed as she once again collapsed her much taller body into yours. "you're so mean to me." she sighed dramatically, one arm covering her face as her head moved to sit in your lap. "i love you." you chuckled, moving her arm and pecking her lips.

"thats it?" the blonde frowned trying to bunch your shirt and pull you down as you pryed her hands off. "yes! we're at training, need i remind you russo." you honked her nose and bounced your knee indicating she sit up.

"yeah save it for the bedroom lessi girl, disgusting." kyra called out with a tut and a shake of her head, eyes widening as your girlfriend leapt up and raced after her.

"children, the pair of you."

lacing up your boots and slipping in your shin guards you hopped up and hurried to catch up with steph and beth, wiggling your way in between them.

"did i just hear you call your girlfriend needy?" beth teased as you slung your arms around both of them. "yes. she's needy and i'm clingy, there's a difference." you grinned, steph tugging on your ponytail and pulling a face as you fell into conversation with them.

"when the hell did it rain!" your eyes widened in shock as you pushed through the training centre doors and noted the now very sodden grass. "it didn't genius, they water the pitch on tuesdays. remember?" steph laughed as they continued on ahead but you stopped.

"comin?" beth spun around and raised an eyebrow as you frowned at the very muddy stomped on turf between you and the pristine training pitch. "my new boots! they're white." you groaned throwing your head back.

"tough break kid. should have gone for the orange!" a hand slapped your back, leahs smirk filling your vision as she wiggled her new boots at you mockingly. "carry me?" you asked hopefully as the blonde laughed sarcastically.

"yeah you wish dopey." she shoved your head to the side and jogged off, the others leaving you behind as you glared down at the mud contemplating your options.

"babe?" you looked up and brightened at the sign of your girlfriend. "are you alright?" the blonde asked genuinely concerned as you melted at how sweet she could be. "new boots." you huffed pointing downward as her concern morphed into an amused smile.

"would you like a piggy back?" alessia chuckled as you perked up and nodded. "tell me you missed me before." the blonde frowned as you grinned. "i missed you so so so much baby, my chest was aching." you pouted with a hand over your heart.

"i don't appreciate the sarcasm but i'll accept it." your girlfriend sighed, turning around and bending down for you to climb onto her back. "i love you." you craned your neck to kiss her cheek as she hummed.

"you owe me for this." the striker warned making you smile, a few of the girls watching on and laughing as she carried you through the muddy patch and onto the training pitch which was anything but.

"and this is your stop, thank you for riding air russo." alessia announced squatting and dropping you to your feet. "oh i'll do that later, i promise." you whispered with a wink, watching with a grin as her cheeks burned bright red and she smacked your arm, both of you called over to training.

you hadn't thought anything else about it until a few days later when the training video had been released, one of the media interns having filmed alessia carrying you to the pitch and cutting it into the video.

"baby! you home?" you looked up from your computer where you were cranking out an essay you'd sworn you'd had another week to do, checking the date and realizing you had two days.

"in here!" you called back, eyes focused on the screen again typing away as you heard her make her way upstairs. "look at this!" you flinched as your laptop was yanked from your hand, held out of reach as alessia's phone replaced it.

"less! babe i have less than 48 hours to finish this essay and its worth a quarter of my grade for this subject." you tried to reach for the laptop only for it to be held higher. "you can have it back once you look." she pointed to her phone in your lap.

"this better be-" you started picking up her phone. "is this what you wanted me to see?" you couldn't help but smile at the photo on her screen. "yes! that looks bad, really bad." alessia groaned, placing your laptop down on the desk and flopping down on the bed.

the photo in question was a screen grab from the training video of alessia carrying you, edited to look like a nike ad. alessia had the adidas symbol edited onto her training top as you had the nike swoosh on yours.

the tagline 'Zoom Mercurial Superfly - a football boot so clean even the competition recognizes its game'.

"alessia. its made by a fan!" you laughed with a shake of your head. "oh yeah? look who retweeted it!" alessia huffed as you squinted and your smile grew. "oh theres an intern somewhere getting in trouble." you chuckled seeing the nike twitter had retweeted it with a series of emojis, even going as far as to tag both you and alessia.

"they're not the only one! when adidas see this, when my publicist see's this, my agent-" alessia sat bolt upright throwing her hands in the air. "baby." you grabbed them and moved her phone aside.

"its a fan edit, made from a very harmless video of my incredibly sweet girlfriend doing something lovely for her girlfriend." your hands dropped hers and settled either side of her face.

"you're not going to get in trouble, you're not going to be dropped my adidas. i will call my agent and have the edit and the retweet taken down if that will make you feel better baby, i promise." you assured, alessia sighing but nodding.

"thank you." she mumbled, burying her face into your shoulder as you smiled, running a hand through her hair. "sorry for interrupting your studying." the blonde pulled her head away as you pecked her lips a few times.

"you can be very dramatic at times less, but i love you. and hey not all of us can prioritise university, hm?" you teased, your girlfriend scoffing knowing what you were getting at.

"i have two units left of my degree and you know i'm trying my best to get them done!" alessia protested trying to get up with a huff as you laughed and moved to straddle her lap.

"no you're annoying me, get off." your girlfriend scowled as you grinned. "now now, babe thats no way to talk to a passenger." you tutted as the blonde gave you a curious look.

"i did say i'd take a ride on air russo, right?"

[girlgenius1111]

behave

ingrid leaves for 2 weeks for national duty. sol and mapi try to stay out of trouble and fill the time. they are successful at one of those two objectives. some medical trauma discussed.

-------

“And I have an extra one of her inhalers, in the medicine cabinet in our bathroom. She hasn’t had an asthma attack in a while but-”

“-But just in case, Solstråle has one in her backpack, and you have one in the medicine cabinet. Ingrid, relax. It’s going to be fine. You’ve left the two of us before.” 

“I know, but this time it's for longer, and she’s still not really herself. So many things have happened and I’m so worried,” the Norwegian rambled. It had only been a few weeks since everything had happened, and you were doing better. You were adjusting. Ingrid still didn’t really want you out of her sight, but she was due at the airport to fly back to Norway for the international break. She’d already said goodbye to you back at the house, and now she was very anxiously trying to give Mapi some words of advice before she had to go. It wasn’t the first time she’d left you with Mapi to play for Norway, but it was the first time since your mental health had really declined, since Ingrid became aware of how hard of a time you were having. 

“Ingrid, amor, I know. I will take good care of her. Do you trust me?” Mapi said calmly, squeezing one of Ingrid’s hands. 

“Of course, María, I’m sorry, of course I trust you. It’s just… keep an eye on her? Please?” Ingrid’s worry bled through her tone, eyes pleading with Mapi to agree to her request. 

“I promise, Ingrid. We’ll be completely fine. And if we aren’t, I’ll call you.” 

“Okay.” Ingrid said quietly. 

“Alright. Fly safe, mi amor. I love you.” Mapi said, pulling Ingrid into a hug. Her girlfriend clung to her, and Mapi rubbed her back softly, trying to provide some comfort. 

“I love you too.” Ingrid whispered, pulling back to leave a sweet kiss on her girlfriend’s lips, before turning and walking into the airport. 

Mapi sighed, a bit relieved because she honestly wasn’t sure she wouldn’t be returning home with Ingrid after a failed airport drop off. The Norwegian had been increasingly anxious about you in recent weeks, and Mapi knew that leaving you, now, felt like she was failing you as a sister, and as a guardian. She also knew, however, that she had the situation handled. You were comfortable with Mapi, and she was confident in her abilities to keep an eye on you, and make sure you were doing okay. 

She understood Ingrid’s anxiety. The Norwegian had always been a person who needed to feel control. Leaving her very vulnerable sister behind while she went off to play football for two weeks would certainly not give Ingrid the sense of control she craved in every situation that scared her. 

Ingrid had gone, though. Entered the airport, gotten on the plane. And now it was time for Mapi to get back home to you, and begin the 2 weeks of fun she had planned. 

------

Mapi wanted to bond with you, in a way that didn’t involve heavy emotions and tears being spilled. She wanted to do something fun that you enjoyed. Even if it wasn’t something that she necessarily wouldn’t have chosen. When you enthusiastically suggested that you both go to your rock climbing gym, she’d agreed easily. How hard could it be? She was a professional athlete. She was fit and strong, and she knew she could do it. She’d checked with the trainers at Barça, and she’d been cleared for the activity. An important piece of information that she’d forgotten, however, was that she wasn’t the biggest fan of heights. 

Well, it wasn’t that she forgot. It was more that she just didn’t think it would be an issue. Her fear of heights had decreased significantly in recent years. She went on hikes often up tall hills and mountains, and was barely bothered. She didn’t stop to consider that being tied to a wall and climbing to the top with very little support would be harder. 

It was easy to get on the helmet, the harness, and all the gear. It was adorable to watch you expertly tie the knots to her carabiner, very nonchalantly, though Mapi could tell you wanted to impress her. It was fun to learn all the silly little commands she was supposed to shout. It was fun that you knew all the right pointers to tell her, easily getting her going up the wall. It was even fun climbing; it took a specific muscle strength that was slightly different than the one she possessed, and it was just difficult enough to present a challenge, without being overwhelmingly difficult. 

As she got higher up, though, she became more and more aware that the only thing between her and falling a very significant distance to the ground was a rope and a self belaying machine. She kept herself calm, though, until she got to the top of the wall. She allowed herself a small smile, glancing down at where you were cheering for her. 

That was her mistake. The ground was so far away. And once she started to panic she couldn’t really stop. 

You were yelling instructions up to her, ones she could barely hear.“Okay, like I told you. Flip the hand brake to the other side, and let the slack of the rope slide through your hand.” 

“NO!” Mapi shouted, surprising even herself with the volume of her voice. “I can’t.” 

“What do you mean you can’t? Is it stuck?” You replied. It didn’t even occur to you that Mapi might be scared. She was Mapi. She was fearless and confident and she was brave for you when you weren’t sure you could be. 

“No, Sol, I can’t. I can’t.” Mapi said again, and you were floored to hear her start to get choked up. She had a white knuckle grip on the rope in one hand, holding tight to one of the handholds with the other. She looked like her whole body was trembling, and you floundered for a minute, entirely lost on what to do and how to help. 

Though after thinking about it for another minute, the solution was clear. Ingrid could fix Mapi, just like Mapi could always fix Ingrid. 

“Okay, Maps, hold on I’m gonna help you.” You shouted, seeing her nod weakly. There was no getting her down like this. You had to have some confidence in the equipment, and yourself, in order to repel down the wall, and Mapi clearly possessed confidence in neither of those things at the moment. 

You grabbed your phone and called Ingrid. It went right to voicemail. You called again, waving off the worker who came up to ask if you needed help. 

“I’m calling Ingrid, Mapi, just hang on.” 

Ingrid didn’t answer for a second time. You dialed Caro’s number, one you had for emergencies, and she picked up on the first ring, no doubt concerned at the sight of your name on the caller ID. 

“Hello?” Caro said. 

“Caro, are you with Ingrid? Can you get her for me?” 

“Uh… yeah. She’s in the gym, I’ll grab her. Is everything okay?” 

“No, please hurry.” 

It was unsettling to see Mapi this distraught, and you were absolutely flooded with guilt that you’d made her do this. She was clearly terrified and it was all your fault.

You heard some muffled voices over the phone before Ingrid’s absolutely panicked one came over the line. 

“Solstråle? What is it?” She asked, beside herself with worry. 

“Um. Mapi and I went to the climbing gym. And she made it to the top of the wall but now she’s… stuck.” 

“Stuck? What do you mean stuck?” 

“She’s too afraid to come down, I don’t know what to do.” 

Ingrid fought off a smile. The mental image of Mapi stuck at the top of an indoor climbing wall, securely attached to a rope, a thick mat underneath her, in absolutely no danger at all, was comical, she couldn’t lie. 

“Switch it to a video call.” She instructed, for no other reason than to get photographic evidence of this. Alexia would be getting a late birthday gift this year, in the form of this moment, framed. 

You did as she asked, flipping the camera around to show Mapi up at the top of the wall. It was the shortest one in the place, and Ingrid had a very clear view of her girlfriend, holding onto the wall and the rope for dear life. 

“Oh, María.” Ingrid chuckled, finding the whole situation very amusing. She took a screenshot, before you spoke and the situation became significantly less funny. 

“Ingrid, I think she’s crying.” You murmured. That sobered up your sister pretty quickly. It was one thing for Mapi to be scared, and entirely another for her to be so terrified she was moved to tears. Ingrid very suddenly remembered Mapi’s fading fear of heights. Or, what was supposed to be a fading fear of heights. 

“Shit. Can you get up there? With me in your pocket or something?” 

You sounded almost cocky when you responded. “I could get up there with my eyes closed. It’s the easiest wall.” 

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “Okay, get me up to her.” 

You did as your sister asked, attaching your harness to the ropes and getting the self belay machine all set, before you slipped your sister into your pocket, and climbed up the wall, at a speed that could only be described as a sprint. It took longer than it could have, because you went slightly diagonal, trying to get as close to Mapi as you could. When you reached her, she seemed completely spaced out, every muscle in her body tensed, a few tears on her cheeks. 

You pulled your phone out of your pocket, turned the volume up, and held it up so Mapi could see her girlfriend. 

“María?” Ingrid said soothingly. 

Mapi snapped back into herself, her head whipping around to look at the phone, and at you. 

“Ingrid.” she said, relief clear in her voice. 

“Hey. Are you scared?” 

“No, I am staying up here for fun Ingrid.” Mapi snapped. Ingrid looked unimpressed, and Mapi mumbled an apology. 

“Can you listen to what Sol tells you to do? And do it with her?” 

“Isn’t there another way I can get down?” She asked in a quiet voice. 

“Yeah, I can cut the rope and you’d drop right down.” You deadpanned. Mapi looked horrified at you, and you choked back a laugh. 

“Solstråle, that is not nice!” Ingrid scolded. “María, my love, you are completely safe. You’re going to do what Sol says, and you’ll be back on the ground in a second, okay?” 

“Okay.” Mapi agreed, glaring at you. 

“See you in a sec Ingrid! If we make it down alive,” you added, tucking your sister back into your pocket before she could yell at you again. 

When you spoke again, though, it was soft and encouraging, and Mapi knew that you were taking her fear seriously. It is one of those little signs that you loved her, too. You weren’t as good at saying it, having not heard it said to you for a lot of your life, but you showed it. When you’d squeeze her hand during a Barça game, knowing how hard it was for her to sit out. When you’d find a silly cat tiktok and send it to her, even though she knew you didn’t find whatever it was very funny. And now, when you talked her through the whole thing, assuring her that she’d be safe the whole time. 

“It’s gonna be fine, Maps. Flip the handbrake off, and hold tight to the rope. You won’t go anywhere until you let yourself.” 

Mapi found herself following your instructions without much thought. You just very clearly sounded like you knew what you were doing. 

“Okay, good. Now loosen your hand on the rope, just a little. A bit will slide through and you’ll drop. The less you let go of, the slower you’ll descend.” Mapi let the rope go a bit, lowering maybe an inch. You nodded encouragingly, lowering down with her. “Keep your feet on the wall. You’re just going to walk yourself down. You can go as slow as you need to.” 

Very slowly, at the pace of a wounded snail, you and Mapi moved down the wall. You didn’t stop talking the whole time, forgetting, honestly, that Ingrid was in your pocket. 

She was sitting in the hallway, all the way in Norway, wondering what she did to deserve such a sweet sister, who cared so deeply for the people around her. Who adjusted to her girlfriend without a second thought. Who was sensitive and loving, even if you pretended not to be. 

When Mapi got down the wall, she was still shaking too badly to undo the harness. You handed her your phone, un attaching her from the wall, as she spoke quietly to your sister. When she was free, and you were free, you shoved your face next to hers, greeting Ingrid again. 

If Mapi was worried you’d make fun of her, she didn't have to be. 

You just smiled at her. “Ice cream?” You asked hopefully. Mapi and Ingrid felt their lips both tug up into smiles, matching smiles. 

“Definitely.” Mapi agreed. 

The day had been a bonding experience. Just in a very different way than Mapi had anticipated. 

------

You enjoyed spending time with Mapi, you really did. But you were also a person that needed a lot of time to yourself. Maybe it was a consequence of having no one around who paid much attention to you growing up, or maybe it was just how you were wired. Either way, after almost 2 weeks of spending every minute with your sister’s girlfriend, you needed a break. 

Some silence, and a break. 

Which is how you found yourself on a long hike, two days before Ingrid was due home. You’d gone yourself, without Scout, which wasn’t a common occurrence, but you wanted to be gone for a while. Just you and nature and nothing but your thoughts to echo around your head. 

When you got to a fork in the path, you stopped to consider. The right path would lead you back down, and you’d be home within the hour. The left path would lead you through a tricky boulder section of the hike, and you’d be gone another 2 hours. 

Your only hesitation with the left path was that Ingrid had very specifically told you not to take it alone. You’d talked to her before you’d left, and she’d warned you that the boulders were really tricky, and you shouldn’t do it by yourself. She promised to go with you when she got back, if you promised not to do it today. 

Mapi would never know, though. You’d just tell her you stopped at the top to enjoy the views for a bit, before you headed down. And if Mapi didn’t know, Ingrid wouldn’t know. And you really, really, just wanted some more time to yourself. 

So you set off to the left, ignoring the nagging feeling in your gut that you were making a mistake. 

------

You didn’t remember it hurting this bad, having a broken bone. It was definitely broken, though. You’d heard it go, even as your body hit the ground with a loud thump. 

The boulders had been tricky. So incredibly tricky. They were slightly loose and wobbly, and there were big gaps in between where you could easily fall. You had to get up and over a pile of rocks to keep moving, and you were tired. There were only a few more, by your estimations, and you were so relieved to almost be done that you were a bit more careless on the last few. 

It was the final obstacle that you fell from. You lost your footing towards the end of the boulder pile, rolling and tumbling down the last boulder, and onto the dirt path. You threw your arm out to catch yourself, and that was all it took. 

Sitting for a moment, you assessed your hand. It was broken. You knew instantly. You’d felt this before, you knew what it was. You felt strangely calm after making that assessment, carefully testing all of your fingers, and trying to move your wrist. 

Ouch. No, it was definitely broken. You had a couple options. You could call Mapi to come get you. She’d freak out and call your sister, who would be furious that you’d done exactly what she warned you not to. Or, you could finish the hike and get home. Pretend you were tired from your hike, or sick or something, and sneak away into your bedroom. Sleep it off. 

Logically, you knew the second option was bullshit. You couldn’t hide a broken arm forever. The thought of going to the doctor, though, was not something you would even consider. You only had one choice. 

You rose to your feet, the movement jostling your arm just enough to make your stomach turn. You bent over, throwing up onto the path. Straightening up again, you set off down the path, arm cradled close to your body. You could do this. You were strong and independent and you didn’t need anyones help. 

------

You felt like the universe was on your side, with the way things were going. Aside from the broken arm, of course. You were able to slip past Mapi, telling her a small lie that you’d grabbed food on the way home and weren’t feeling well, before you made it to your room. She popped her head in to say goodnight, and if she thought your behavior was weird, she didn’t say anything. 

You waited until she was in bed to shower, knowing she’d be up early for training the next day. You weren’t quite sure what your plan was past that, but you were taking this step by step. 

If Mapi didn’t know, she wouldn’t make you go to the doctor. She wouldn’t tell Ingrid. And Ingrid wouldn’t be mad. 

It was very poor logic, but logic nonetheless. 

You probably could have kept it up for longer, too, if your damn dog wasn’t so intelligent. 

------

Scout wasn’t sure what a broken bone was. Nor was he sure what was wrong with you. But you were hurting, had cried yourself to sleep the night before, and no one was doing anything. The helpful tall one was gone, leaving him with only the annoying and loud short one. Scout didn't think she was very smart, but he’d try to get the message across that someone should probably do something about you, his favorite person on planet earth. 

He followed her around when she arrived home from training. She ignored him. 

When she sat on the couch and turned the TV on, he stood right next to her, staring daggers at her face. She ignored him. 

It wasn’t until he started to whine loudly, and paw at her hand that she got fed up and finally looked at him. 

“Scout, chico, I am begging you to leave me alone.” Mapi sighed. The dog just looked at her, taking a tiny step closer to the Spaniard and letting out a quiet whine. “I swear to god.” 

She stood from the couch, heading for your room. If Scout would listen to anyone, it would be you. And she assumed that he was just pouting because you had shut your door, not allowing him inside. Now that Mapi thought about it, though, she realized she hadn’t seen you at all today, though she had exchanged texts with you while she was at training. Upon arriving at your door she raised her hand to knock, but before her hand could make contact with the wood, she heard a quiet, pained yelp come from the room. 

Mapi frowned. “Nena?” She called, knocking on the door before trying to knob. 

It was locked. 

You never locked your door. 

Mapi paused for a moment, looking down at Scout next to her, who was panting and staring up at her. See, his eyes seemed to say. I told you something was wrong. 

“Solstråle? Can I come in?” 

Inside, you had clapped your good hand over your mouth, realizing that Mapi had heard the sound you’d made. You’d been trying to pull a sweatshirt on to hide the awful sight of your arm, but even the soft brush of the fabric against your arm was horribly painful. 

Fuck. Fuck. Mapi wasn’t going to go away, not without seeing you. You struggled with the sweatshirt further before responding, but you were unable to muffle a cry of pain when your forearm twisted slightly. 

You shut your eyes, fighting back tears. “I’m fine, Mapi.” You replied, though you knew very well that it would not be enough for the Spaniard. 

“You don’t sound fine.” Mapi said, twisting the knob again, as if it would have magically unlocked itself in the last few seconds. 

“I am. All good.” You said back, fighting against the urge to open the door and collapse into her arms; your arm was on fire, the pain so bad that you were barely keeping yourself from openly sobbing. 

On the other side of the door, Mapi shook her head, growing more and more panicked. You didn’t sound right, not at all. Scout next to her had begun to pace, and she was trying to figure out if she could break the door down before she spoke again. 

“Open the door, nena. I am not asking. I need to see that you’re safe.” Mapi said firmly, closing her eyes and praying to god that you were okay. 

You had no choice. You stepped forward, unlocking the door, and Mapi’s eyes fell to you, cradling your arm close to your chest. You arm that looked wrong. It was bent at a slightly awkward angle, turning an ugly shade of purple, and it was twice the size of how it normally was.

“Jesus.” Mapi sighed, stepping closer to you, she missed the pure panic that flashed across your face, but she saw you flinch violently away from her, backing up until you were on the opposite side of the room. There were tears in your eyes, and Mapi froze, raising her hands in the air.

“Sol,” Mapi began, her heart shattering when you shook your head rapidly, wordlessly begging for something, although Mapi wasn’t quite sure what. “It’s just me, Sol. I won’t touch your arm. I just want to look at it, okay? I promise, I will not touch you.” 

You blinked at her for a minute, before nodding slowly. You moved over to your bed, taking a seat on the edge, sitting rather stiffly. It was a testament to the trust you had in the Spaniard that you held your arm out for her to see, a quiet sob falling from your lips. 

Mapi moved closer slowly, like you were a wild animal she didn’t want to scare off, until she was standing right in front of you. She kept her hands behind her back, simply looking at your arm. It was broken. Mapi wasn’t a doctor, but this wasn’t a difficult determination to make. A broken arm is pretty obvious. 

“What happened?” 

“I fell.” 

“How did you fall?” 

“I was hiking along those rocks that Ingrid told me not to climb on and I lost my balance and fell on my arm.”

“This was yesterday?” Mapi breathed, sick to her stomach at the thought that you’d been hiding this from her for so long. That you’d been hiding it at all, but that you’d gone to sleep with an untreated broken bone, that she’d left you alone while she went to training, while you had a broken bone. 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh, cariño.” She sighed. “You must be in so much pain.” She studied you closely, and she decided that now was not the time to have a conversation about hiding things from her. “Nena, do you want a hug?” 

Now that she knew, it was even harder to pretend that you were fine. She was right. You had been in a lot of pain. You were acutely aware of that pain, now, and how desperately you wanted someone to take charge of the situation and make everything okay. 

“Please,” you whispered, leaning in her direction. Mapi very carefully wrapped her arms around you, gently rubbing her hand up and down your back. You trembled against her, and Mapi thought at that moment that she would break her own arm if it meant you weren’t in pain. 

Mapi hugged you tight for a minute before she very regretfully pulled back, putting her hands on her shoulders and studying you. “Okay. Okay. Here is what we’re going to do. Tomorrow, we are going to have a talk about hiding injuries from us. Because Sol, this is so dangerous. I don’t know why you didn’t tell me, and you can explain later, but right now we need to go see a doctor.” 

“No.” You said simply, your face hardening as you looked up at the Spaniard. And it wasn’t that Mapi hadn’t expected some resistance; she knew that you had an issue with doctors. It was the decisiveness with which you spoke, and the barely masked fright on your face. 

“Solstråle, we need to get that x-rayed.” 

“No. It’s fine, Mapi.”

“It isn’t fine! It looks broken, nena, we need to get it looked at.” 

“No. No doctors, no hospital, no x-ray.” 

“Solstråle, I will call your sister if I need to. We are going to the doctor.” 

A look of betrayal flashed across our face, and you held your arm tighter to your body in a protective manner. “Please don’t make me.” You whispered. 

Harsh wasn’t working. Demanding wasn’t working. Mapi knew she couldn’t force you. She just had to convince you. She stepped closer, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You are scared, that’s okay. I’ll be with you the whole time, though, nena. Do you trust me?” 

“Yeah.” You said, your voice cracking a bit, looking up at Mapi with wide, wet eyes. 

“I promise you, I am not going to let anything happen to you.”

You considered for a moment. You knew, realistically, that you had to go in. And you also knew that Ingrid was probably going to be furious with you. You craved comfort from your sister, though, you needed to hear her voice, telling you that you were safe. Ingrid knew a bit more than Mapi did about your issue with doctors, even though she didn’t have the full story. Ingrid was safe, and so was Mapi, but you really just wanted your sister. 

“Can I call Ingrid on the way there?”

And even though Mapi winced internally at mere thought of how upset this would make her girlfriend, she nodded. “Of course you can. Come on, let’s go.” 

The care with which Mapi helped you down the stairs brought tears to your eyes. She put your shoes on for you, double knotting the laces like you always did, before she paused, crouched in front of where you sat on the bench by the front door. 

“I promise you, Sol. I am not going to let anything happen to you. Okay? I’ve got you, kid.” She said, watching as you blinked hard, clenching your jaw and nodding. 

“Yeah, thanks,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. Mapi helped you up, then, and you both exited the house. 

Mapi dialed the phone in the car, connecting it to the speaker. Ingrid picked up on the first ring, almost like she knew something was wrong. “Hi mi amor,” she greeted warmly. 

“Hola. We’re in the car, Sol is with me.” 

“Hi solstråle,” Ingrid said.

“Hi,” you replied, not uttering another word. 

“Tell her what happened, mi sol.” Mapi encouraged

“Tell me what? What happened?” Ingrid asked, her tone much more concerned and serious. 

“I hurt my arm. We’re going to the doctor.” You mumbled. Ingrid sighed, but she got the feeling that this wasn’t the worst of what you had to tell her, that it was going to get worse. 

“How? What’s wrong with it?”

“I was hiking and I fell. Mapi thinks it’s broken.” 

“Broken…climbing… on the trail I told you to be careful on- wait, Sol that was yesterday. This happened yesterday!?” Ingrid shouted. “Why are you just taking her now, María?”

Mapi winced. “I didn’t know until now.” 

“YOU DIDN’T TELL MAPI UNTIL NOW?” Ingrid yelled, so loudly that the speakers crackled slightly. 

Mapi glanced over at you to see that there were tears pouring down your cheeks, and your bottom lip captured in between your teeth, as you tried valiantly not to cry. Shit.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Relax, let’s all just take a breath.” She soothed, turning to pull over on a side street. 

“María, I will not relax, this is not oka-”

“Ingrid, stop.” Mapi said firmly, her voice more stern than you’d ever heard it. Ingrid fell silent. “Sol, breathe. Ingrid isn’t mad, she’s just worried. We are okay, everything is okay.”

You nodded frantically, trying to get a handle on your emotions, which were, frankly, overwhelming at the moment. “Sorry, I’m sorry Ingrid, I’m so sorry.” You sobbed. 

Ingrid felt her heart shatter. She hadn’t meant to shout. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled, honey.” 

“I just- the last time I hurt my arm mom didn’t believe me and you told me to be careful and I didn’t want you to be mad, and I didn’t know if you’d think I was lying, and I don’t want to go to the doctor, Ingrid, but Mapi is taking me and she says I have to, and-” you cut yourself off with another loud sob, before arms were reaching over the center console and wrapping around you. 

“Shh, nena, it’s okay. You are safe, you are loved. You are okay.” Mapi whispered, loud enough that Ingrid could hear it over the phone. Tears were falling down her cheeks, too, for a combination of reasons. Mostly, though, because her girlfriend was being so absurdly sweet and patient with you. Not that María would ever be anything different, but Ingrid would never stop appreciating it.

Once you’d calmed down a bit, you leaned back away from Mapi, looking at her desperately. “María I really don’t want to go to the doctor, please don’t make me,” you begged. Even as everything in Mapi wanted to give in and take you home where you felt safe, her eyes flickered down to your arm, which was black and blue and swollen, and she knew that wasn’t an option. Before she could speak, though, Ingrid chimed in. 

“Solstråle, switch the phone to a video call and let me see your arm.” 

You did as she asked, fighting back another wave of tears when Ingrid’s face popped up on the screen, looking sympathetically at you. You held up your arm, holding back a groan of pain as you did so, not happy when Ingrid frowned at the sight. 

“Sweetheart,” 

“No,” you cried, hiding your face in the crook of your elbow. This was absurd. Your arm was clearly broken, you were 18 years old, and you were afraid of the doctor. Like a child. It was humiliating and you wanted nothing more than to pretend that this was fine, that you were fine going to get a few x-rays and a cast, but the feelings of anxiety and panic were only rising in you again, and your whole body shook at the thought of letting a doctor anywhere near your arm.

“I know, I know,” Ingrid whispered, sounding like she really did know. While your parents had always dismissed your fear of doctors as you being dramatic, ingrid had always been able to tell that you were completely and utterly terrified of going in for a check up, or going into the hospital. The pure horror in your eyes whenever you had to do so was proof enough, but she’d had to take you once, just to get your flu shot, and you’d silently cried the entire way to the office, thrown up in the bathroom upon arriving, and almost broke her hand with your strong grip while the shot was being administered. 

You hadn’t always been like this, though. It had started when you were 10, and Ingrid had never known the reason. You’d never told her, and your parents hadn’t either. 

“You’re scared, yes? Can you tell me what is making you so afraid?” Ingrid asked gently. 

You took a few shuddering breaths before hesitantly looking at her on the screen. “When I broke my arm? They had to reset it because mom waited to take me to the doctor and the bones were in the wrong spot. 

They told me they were going to put some ice on it and a bandage and then the nurses were holding me down and the doctor was forcing the bones back into place.”

You took a minute, trying to stop the incessant shakes that were running through your body at the memory. You jumped slightly when Mapi’s hand found your uninjured one, but you grabbed on tight, closing your eyes to finish your explanation. 

“I cried and I screamed and mom told me to stop being dramatic, and that I was embarrassing her in front of all the doctors. They made her leave the room then, and it was just me and the doctor and the nurses. The bones didn’t go back right on the first try, and they had to do it two more times before it worked. Mom only came in when they were done and they were putting the cast on. I asked her if I could call you, and she said no, because you were too busy for me.”

It all made sense, now. Ingrid remembered coming back from international duty after you’d broken your arm. You’d seemed so depressed and withdrawn, and she’d assumed you were upset about the injury. Never could she have imagined what had gone on while she was gone.  

“That is awful, nena. You did not deserve that, and I am so sorry that happened to you.” Mapi began, her voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “I understand why you’re scared. I promise you, though, I won’t let anyone touch you until you say it’s okay. They’ll tell you what they’re going to do before they do it, and I’ll be with you the whole time.” 

Your sister could tell that you were slightly more convinced, now. You really trusted Mapi. She’d never given you a reason not to trust her. 

“Solstråle, you really need to get it looked at. I’m sorry I’m not there, I’m sorry I wasn’t there the first time, but Mapi is going to take really good care of you, okay?”

“Okay.” You agreed, another tear sliding down your cheek. Even as you did so, though, even as you gave Mapi permission to start the car and resume the drive to the hospital, you weren’t sure you could do this. You understood the importance of getting your arm taken care of, and you’d try. Whether you’d get through this hospital trip, though, was a different story.

--------

Mapi was relatively sure she was going to need an x-ray herself; you were holding her hand so tightly, your knuckles were white. You were shaking in the hospital bed, a vacant expression on your face. 

You’d been sort of… despondent since returning from your x-ray. The doctors had insisted you go alone, and after some convincing, you’d agreed. When they walked you back into the room where Mapi was waiting, though, it was clear you were in another place. All she could do was wait for you to come back a bit. 

 “Mapi?” You said quietly, getting the attention of the Spaniard, who had been looking down at her phone, texting your sister.

“Sí nena?” Mapi replied, very gently squeezing your hand. You looked at her, then, making eye contact for the first time since returning from x-rays, and Mapi winced at the terror in your eyes. 

“I don’t feel safe.” You whispered, unsure of what else you could do or say. You needed help, your fear was rapidly becoming overwhelming, especially because you knew that any minute, the doctor would be returning. 

Mapi nodded sympathetically, reaching out with her free hand to push some hair off your forehead. She knew that physical touch was often the only thing that could comfort you when you were feeling anxious. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel more safe?” 

“Promise you won’t leave? You won’t let them hurt me?” 

“I will stay right here with you the whole time. And I will never let anyone hurt you.” Mapi looked at you with such conviction, spoke with such confidence and finality, you had no choice but to believe her. 

“I want to go home.” You whimpered, your voice cracking. 

“Soon, mi sol. Soon.” 

It was only a few minutes later that the doctor returned. She was a kind woman, gentle and cautious. She had some  understanding that you were afraid, and she’s respected that. She told you everything she was going to do before she did it, and she hadn’t once made you feel ridiculous for how you were acting. 

“Alrighty. Got your x rays here. We’re looking at a bilateral forearm fracture, which means both the radius and the ulna are broken. The fractured are clean across, nothing is displaced which is good news for you; that means we can put the cast on, and nothing has to get put back into place.” 

Mapi watched as your body practically deflated next to her, a long sigh of relief escaping your lips. 

The doctor continued. “I am curious, though. Have you broken this arm before?”

You stiffened slightly, and Mapi shifted next to you, moving closer unconsciously in a protective manner. 

“Yeah, when I was 10.” 

The doctor nodded. “I can see it on the x-ray, there’s a line here, where it didn't heal exactly right. That white dot? You’ve developed a bit of a bone spur there where the bones weren’t properly aligned the first time. Does it give you pain?” 

You shrugged. The relief was gone from your face, and you only looked defensive now. “Sometimes.” 

Mapi guessed that sometimes meant often, and she wondered if you ever would have told her and Ingrid that you were having issues with your arm, if this hadn’t occurred. 

“Well, the good news is your bones are not at risk for healing in the wrong spot, so you should avoid a repeat of the first injury complications. There are options, though, if that bone spur continues to give you issues. Physical therapy, steroid injections, and surgery are all on the table.”

You nodded, jaw clenched tightly shut. Mapi could tell this wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have, and she figured you’d been pushed far enough today. 

“Thank you, very much. What is the recovery time like?” She said, effectively drawing the attention away from you as the conversation turned to casts and braces and slings. 

You might as well have been in another room, for all you heard. You didn’t need to get the bones reset. Just a cast. You could handle that. 

Or, you thought you could. It was much more stress-inducing than you expected, when the doctor came in with the items to make the cast, and reached for your arm. You flinched away from her violently, looking helplessly at Mapi. You were thinking about how she said she wouldn’t let anyone touch you if you didn’t want them to, and Mapi knew that. 

“Can you give her a second, please?” Mapi said, not taking her eyes off of you as she slid into the hospital bed you were sitting upright in. 

The doctor nodded, for her part lacking understanding, but not needing an explanation to respect that you were clearly terrified. 

“Sol, breathe. It’s just the cast. They’re gonna put it on, they aren’t going to mess with your arm. You can do this, I know you can.” Mapi encouraged, more than a little surprised when you took a deep breath, nodded, and held your arm out to the doctor.You turned your head away, pressing your face into Mapi’s shoulder, gripping onto her shirt with your good hand. 

You were putting all of your trust in Mapi in that moment, to ensure that the doctor was gentle and didn’t do anything she hadn’t said she would. This wasn’t lost on the Spaniard, and she watched closely as they wrapped your arm, and began applying the plaster. 

She could feel your tears soaking through the fabric of her shirt, though you were completely silent as you cried. Not for the first time, and probably not for the last time, Mapi cursed your mother with everything in her. The woman had given her Ingrid, and you by extension, but she had inflicted so much pain on you in your short life. Mapi ached for the day where these scars weren’t painfully obvious, for the day you could go to the doctor without fear, ask for a hug when you needed one, cry openly when you were hurting, believe with all your heart that you were loved. 

She held tight to you, watching as the doctor put the finishing touches on your cast. 

“I’ve got you, nena.” She whispered. “Almost done.” 

You were too good to have experienced everything that you had. She just wanted you to be happy. 

When you pulled away from her to inspect your arm, she could still see such apprehension written clearly across your face. She wondered how long it would take for it to fully leave. Or if it ever would. Some scars never faded. 

You gave her a watery smile, though, nodding towards the blue of your cast. “Couldn’t get it blaugrana but this is good too, right?” You joked. 

Mapi returned your smile, feeling a very familiar spark of hope inside of her chest. Of course you would be okay. Of course you would. You were one of the strongest, most resilient people she knew. 

“Very good. I am going to draw something so inappropriate on there before your sister gets home.” 

You laughed, and Mapi laughed, both of you felt a bit like everything would be okay. Even if Ingrid scribbled over whatever Mapi drew on your cast. 

-------

You sat blankly on the couch upon arriving home, staring at the cast your hand was wrapped in. You weren’t really sure what to do now, and it didn’t seem like Mapi knew, either. She took a seat next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into her. 

“Talk to me, nena.” She encouraged.

“I just don’t feel good. I’m really tired.” You told her. 

“It’s been a long day, your body is coming down from a lot of stress and anxiety. You’re okay, now, so let’s just lay on the couch and relax, sí?”

You agreed, shifting to move into your spot in the corner of the sectional, before you paused. “Can you stay with me?” You asked. 

Mapi smiled at you. “Of course I can. Even if it means your damn dog is going to come lay on my legs and get fur all over my pants.” 

You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly, but you couldn’t give much of an argument because Scout jumped up on the couch right after, flopping down on your legs, making sure to stretch a leg out to rest on Mapi’s legs, too. 

You dozed off relatively easily, clearly drained from a very emotionally and physically exhausting day, and Mapi took the opportunity to call her girlfriend, who she had been updating over text frequently, but who would still be, no doubt, beside herself with worry. 

When Ingrid answered the phone, and only Mapi’s face appeared in view of the camera, Ingrid half convinced herself that you’d locked yourself in a room somewhere and were refusing to come out. Mapi shifted the camera, though, showing you absolutely passed out on the couch, your uninjured hand holding onto her arm, something you’d done completely in your sleep. 

“Hey.” Mapi greeted. She didn’t worry about the volume of her voice; you could sleep through anything. 

“Hi.” Ingrid said, feeling ridiculously emotional at the sight of her two favorite people together. “She’s okay?”

“Yeah. It was really hard for her, I’ve never seen her that anxious. They just put a cast on, though, and she’s relaxed enough now to rest. She was so exhausted, Ingrid, I’d be surprised if she slept at all last night.” Mapi paused as Ingrid hummed. The Norwegian could tell her girlfriend was upset, just from the way her mouth was set stiffly, and the way her eyebrows furrowed slightly. 

“How are you doing my love? That must have been really hard to see.” She commented, studying Mapi’s expression closely. 

The Spaniard just shrugged, though. “I am sorry this happened, I know how worried you must have been being so far away.” 

Ingrid shook her head. “Don’t do that, don’t try to distract me. I want to know how you are doing.” 

Mapi nibbled on her lip for a moment, her eyes everywhere but on the phone in front of her. “I am so sorry Ingrid.” She said finally, the phone dropping into her lap as she wiped impatiently at her eyes. Ingrid had to be furious with her. Had to be. This was all Mapi’s fault, after all. 

Of course, Ingrid had never considered blaming Mapi, not for a single minute. “No, baby, this isn’t your fault.” She said, as if she’d read her girlfriends mind. Mapi could only scoff. “I’m serious, María. These things happen, it’s no one's fault.” 

“She didn’t tell me. She didn’t trust me enough to tell me.” Mapi whispered. 

Ingrid frowned. “No, she trusts you. It’s complicated with her, when she’s hurt. You heard what she said about when she broke her arm the first time. Her response to being hurt was completely based on that experience, it had nothing to do with you.” 

Everything Ingrid said was so logical, Mapi had a hard time coming up with a counter argument. She wasn’t quite ready to forgive herself, though, so she changed the subject. 

“You come home tomorrow.” She said, a small smile gracing her lips. 

Ingrid let the very obvious subject change go in favor of smiling back at her girlfriend. “I do. I’ve missed you both so much.” 

“I have to make sure to sign Sol’s cast before you get here.” Mapi said thoughtfully.

Ingrid grew pale at the thought. “No, María, whatever you are planning to put on there please, please don’t. Just write your name.” 

“Oh, my name will be on there.” Mapi smirked. 

Well, at least it didn’t seem like she was planning something explicit. “Leave room for me to sign too.” Ingrid said grumpily. 

Mapi almost jumped when you chimed in from next to her, throat slightly scratchy. “Ingrid signs first. Those are the rules.” You mumbled, barely opening your eyes to address your sister when Mapi tilted the phone towards you. 

“Ha!” Ingrid said, looking very pleased with herself.

Mapi wanted to argue, she really did. She knew, though, that Ingrid felt insecure about her relationship with you. You were a bit more open with Mapi, a bit more outwardly trusting. Mapi knew this was just because she normally had a much softer approach, though Ingrid’s tougher one was definitely necessary. She knew, too, that Ingrid worried a lot that you preferred Mapi to your sister. So, she let this one go. 

“Fine. I don’t need to sign it. I’ve already got that number 4 tattooed on you.” 

Ingrid paled. “No. No you didn’t. María Pilar León Cebrian, no you did not.” 

“She did. It’s huge, on my right ass cheek.” Next to you, Mapi stifled her laughter, and you did your best to keep a straight face. 

“You better be kidding. I swear to god if I get off that airplane and you have a four tattooed on your ass I will kill you both right there.” 

“How are you going to check? Are you going to pants me in the airport?” You laughed. 

“Solstråle,” Ingrid began, her teeth clenched. 

“Relaaaax Ingrid. I don’t have any more tattoos,” 

She let out a sigh of relief. “Thank god.” 

“...Yet.” You added, laughing with Mapi when Ingrid brought the phone closer to her face. 

“NO! No, Solstråle, no no no no no.” 

You and Mapi laughed so hard you could barely breathe, hearing Ingrid repeating no over and over. 

Ingrid rolled her eyes, but she wasn’t annoyed, not really. You were laughing and that was a big change from before. You were on the road to recovery, and you looked adorable all curled up next to Mapi, grinning at your sister through the phone. How could she be upset at your [stupid, idiotic, immature] joke?

Though she really would murder her girlfriend if you had another tattoo when she got home. 

-------

this took me an absolutely absurd amount of time.

hope you enjoy sol <3

ps. please tell me all your sol thoughts comments keep me living and breathing 🫶🏻🫶🏻

[honeyhoshi]

hat trick!

the term 'hat-trick' is used to define when a player achieves the feat of scoring three goals in a single game.

summary: the first half of the championships is going to their opponents and everyone is looking to mingyu to lead the team to victory. as their star player, it’s a tall order, especially when his plate is already full with you.

this a part of the man of the match universe

genre: professional football (soccer) au, porn with a little plot

wordcount: 5,616

pairing: mingyu x afab!reader

warnings: HEAVY DDlg kink, HEAVY d/s themes, both parties are safe, sane, and consenting adults, reader is implied to be significantly smaller than mingyu, huge mingyu, big dick gyu (canon), (acknowledged???) exhibitionism, unprotected sex (pls dont do it, its not worth it), multiple sex scenes, spit kink (bec i wrote it), creampie (also bec i wrote it), mentions of masturbation, size kink go bbrrrr, bulge kink, pussy stretching, plenty dirty talk, mingyu uses soooo many nicknames (pretty, baby, princess, etc.)

author's notes: this is written for my dearest friend @madeforgyu who helped me bring forward!mingyu to life and for making his gf such a joy to write. thank you also to her for inspiring me to come back to tumblr after almost a decade.

Mingyu is pissed. He’s absolutely fucking livid.

This game had to have been fucking cooked. There was no way the ref was making all these shitty calls for him not to be paid off or something. The team had been making all the right moves but the second something seems like a foul, a whistle blows and somehow it's always someone from the Diamonds getting the blame.

Mingyu had come to four attempted goals on target and any other time was deemed offside by the refs. If he sees that fucking checkered flag go up one more time before they call for half time he’s going to really give them a reason for a red card.

Any other day he’d probably be able to brush it off after the half time break. But this isn’t any other day or any other match. It was the last match of the season — it was the Korean FA Cup final.

The 23-24 season was grueling but rewarding for the Diamonds. After the major upset at finishing as runners up in the season prior, the whole squad had come into this season with fire under their asses. The change in coaches was another thing — while their ex-manager, Mr. Cho was a hardass, their tearful promise to give him a win even after his retirement paired with Seungcheol’s no-bullshit coach style took them from 100% to 250% in the space of the off season.

Mingyu’s never been a better football player. Which is why he’s unhappy when the half time whistle does blow and they’re down 0-2.

Both teams shuffle into the tunnel to head to their locker rooms where their managers and coaching staff were waiting. Then Mingyu sees a flurry of pink shuffling through the mess of white and red kits.

“Excuse me, excuse mee, coming through please,” comes a light voice, parting the crowd.

There are a couple of chuckles and greetings coming from his teammates and even a high five and a “hey tiny!” from Hoshi before it finds its way in front of him.

It’s his girlfriend. It’s you.

Your presence at the game is no anomaly. You’re pretty much a permanent fixture, sort of like the 12th man of the team. Except you can’t play football for shit and you’re always somehow wearing the worst shoes for going on the pitch.

Everyone on the Diamonds’ side knows you — from the press, to the coaching staff, even some of the nutritionists. You’ve been with Mingyu forever. You hardly phase anyone around you when you bat your eyes at Mingyu and grab one of his hands in both of yours.

Mingyu tries to harden his glare at you, doing his best to send a look of displeasure at whatever it is you’re trying to pull.

“I’m soooorry,” you start, playfully rocking on the balls of your feet and trying to tiptoe to get closer to him.

Mingyu almost wants to roll his eyes.

The last of the team coaches enter the locker room but before the door closes, Seungcheol peeks out and meets Mingyu’s eyes. Hoshi’s head pops out next to him shortly after.

“I don’t have to tell you anything, I’m sure," Seungcheol starts, “But you’ve got 10 minutes, Gyu.”

“Tiny, I need my forward in tip top shape, alright?” comes Hoshi’s laugh.

Now Mingyu really rolls his eyes.

You can’t help the giggle that bubbles out, “Aye aye captain!”

You don’t have to be told twice when Mingyu drags you into an extra locker room and says “Skirt up, pretty.”

He makes quick work of slamming the door shut, not even bothering to lock the door. But he does flick the lights open. He wants to see. He has to see all of you.

When he turns around he clicks his tongue at you seated on one of the benches. You’re still rolling your underwear down your legs. They’re a completely useless pair. Though he admits most of your underwear is useless, either too frilly, flimsy, just there for decoration. It’s okay. He likes pretty things. No wonder he likes you so much.

“Uh-uh, doubletime princess. No time for the usual. I need to come before stepping back on that fucking pitch.”

Mingyu’s agitation from his sub par showing during the first half is bubbling under his skin. He’s been stiffening under his shorts since he saw you shuffling through the tunnel and the minute you grabbed his hands, the only thing in his head was how badly he needed to stuff you with his cock.

He grimaces at the pout on your lips as you finally untangle that stupid lacey thing from your frilly socks and platform sneakers. Mingyu grabs your wrist and drags you up against the wall that isn’t lined with lockers. He presses your front against the wall and uses his knee to spread your legs apart.

On instinct you stick out your ass, eager already despite him still being fully dressed, wiggling slightly to show him you want this too.

With quick, practiced fingers Mingyu undoes the knot of his bottoms and pushes down his compression shorts low enough to pull his cock out. He breathes a sigh of relief because finally he can flip up your skirt and see just how needy you are.

He has one large hand wrapped around his equally large cock and inspecting the view in front of him. His other hand settles on the roundness of your ass, grasping slightly to spread you open. He eyes your pink puckered hole and allows his gaze to move down to your pussy. He’s pumping himself roughly to get himself to full hardness as he eyes the slick that’s seeping between your lips. You’re almost jealous. That’s your job.

Once he’s satisfied with himself, he lets his cock rest between your cheeks, and he grasps you on both sides to squeeze. You want to cry, almost scared he’ll get off like this, just fucking the tightness of your pressed asscheeks. It’s almost quiet save for his panting and the way your slick cunt is starting to wet his cock.

So you whine loudly, that unimpressed, unsatisfied one that precedes a—

“Daddyyyyyyyy!”

Fuck there it is.

Mingyu grimaces and clicks his tongue again. No use being quiet now. Or ever, really. Everyone knows anyway.

He turns you around quickly, hoisting you up in his arms and moving to wrap your legs around his slender waist. This position has your pussy pressing up against the underside of his cock and the slight relief it gives you makes you nearly sob.

Instead you whine. You whine and start to grind sloppily as the feeling of delirium starts to course through you. It comes naturally when it comes to Mingyu. You’re addicted and so is he.

Even if your bare cunt is already pressed against him and all Mingyu has to do is angle your hips slightly to slip in, he goes the extra mile.

He supports your smaller frame with one hand and uses the other to lift a corner of his jersey to his teeth so he can bite it. He pulls it up high enough to expose his stomach and your mouth waters at the sight.

Mingyu looks good. He always looks good and he knows you like it when he’s on display for you as well. The dips and groves of his stomach, how it's still damp from the sweat from the first half, has you clenching around nothing.

He feels it against his cock and he quickly decides to quit playing around. You two probably have around 6 minutes and not a second to lose. So he flips the front of your skirt up and groans at the sight of you.

You’re soaked and coating his cock as you try to grind against him, a futile attempt to somewhat relieve yourself. 

So Mingyu pulls away slightly to position the head of his cock at your entrance.

“D’you play with yourself at all, sweetheart?” He says, tapping the large head of his cock against your clit.

“Huh?” comes your confused response.

“I asked my dumb baby if she played with this little pussy?” He answers meanly.

You flush. It’s like a routine for you to stay with Mingyu the night before a game, allowing him to let off steam and go into a game day glowing and stress free while you sit on his lap in the team bus full of his cum from your morning fuck.

But the night before the cup finals had you attending a work event at the last minute because of a scheduling issue that had both you and Mingyu pissed off and horny.

You suppose that’s partly to blame for the first half that had even you swearing at the refs from your seat in his private box.

“Just a little—“

He clicks his tongue, “How many fingers d’you use?”

“Just two daddy, a-and I stopped!” you cry almost petulantly.

“Yeah, baby? Why’d you stop?”

“Because it was no good!” You bounce in his hold slightly, biting your lower lip as he continues to tease your entrance and clit. Just the head of his cock was enough to get you this wound up.

He grins. It’s brilliant and handsome and just so fucking mean because he says, “Thats right. Two of my dumb baby’s fingers are nothing on daddy’s cock,” and pushes into you.

Mingyu has always been so big and thick and you have always always been so much smaller than him, his cock always stretching a little painfully when he first slips in. But today, with such little time and even spending the night away from each other, the stretch punches the breath from your lungs.

You squeal in equal parts delight and distress and Mingyu sets a brutal pace, not even letting you settle into the feeling of him inside of you.

But you understand. You’re his good girl so you look at him with big teary eyes, bottom lip in between your teeth and nod dumbly at him. Words fail you whenever he’s inside you but it’s okay. It’s better than okay. 

You two have long established how nothing nothing in this world makes you happier than when he uses you as he wants, when slips into you whenever he wants, and calls you his princess while destroying your insides.

His eyes are transfixed on where the two of you meet and you can’t help but follow his gaze. It’s absolutely lewd how you wrap around his cock, airtight, and how the sloppy noise echoes in the room.

“Look at my little pussy,” he starts, “my perfect little hole. My baby’s little cunt was made for me.”

Your cries are growing needier, louder, and more depraved. At the back of your mind you remember to worry about how tonight's the championship match and that the halls are surely bustling with press, staff, and even the opposing team. But Mingyu is fucking you so deep, so fast, that he’s literally fucking the thoughts out of your head.

You fight to stay with him in this room, in this moment, but before your eyes completely shut close, you feel his hand wrap around your throat.

“Daddy’s running out of time, baby,” he says, “so be a good girl and stay still for daddy, huh?”

You whine and nod as his hips move faster and he cages you up against the wall, your arms coming up to wrap around his head. 

“Words, princess. I need words.”

You want to swear at him and thrash in his arms but you’re feeling too good, too lost in the pain and pleasure. You bite at the collar of his jersey because it's the only thing you can do to quiet the pathetic whimpers, babbling, and indecipherable cries Mingyu’s pulling from you. 

Mingyu presses a kiss to your temple quickly, “My dumb baby,” he coos, “look so pretty when you’re crying on my cock. That’s my pretty baby, daddy’s almost there. Keep being good for me, m’kay?”

He speeds up his fucking, hips pistoning, and the press of his cock pressing against that spot in you that makes you see stars.

Mingyu pulls you into a kiss that’s all spit and teeth and bruising lips. He sucks on your tongue before separating the two of you and looking back down at his cock bullying its way into your pussy. 

It happens before your mind can process it but at the speed of light you feel a wet, hot thwack of his spit landing on your clit harshly and you cry out, unable to keep it in.

“Daaaaddy!” It’s loud and keening and you’re sure everyone on the other side of the wall hears.

But it’s all Mingyu needs and one, two, three, brutal thrusts later, he’s spilling deep into you, fucking you through his orgasm.

Your eyes fly open as he rubs at your clit with his thumb while he pulls out and slaps at your puffy clit before he brings your face close and presses back in for a long, deep kiss.

When he pulls away and meets your eyes there’s a mean glint in them and a shit eating grin that is almost frustrating enough to bring you back to tears.

“See baby, if you’d been good, I’d have made you come.”

“B-but! I was good, daddy! I was so good for you!” He settles you back down on wobbly legs and tucks himself back into his uniform.

You’re looking at him in indignation, tears brimming at eyes, threatening to fall. Mingyu’s eyes soften as he brushes the tears away with large thumbs and tucks your hair behind your ears.

It’s a futile attempt to have you looking presentable but your smudged lip gloss and the mess at the back of your head are enough to sell you both out for your halftime activities.

“Being good means not touching what belongs to daddy when he’s not there.”

All you can do is huff. He’s right.

You’re trying to fix how your jersey (a custom pink version of the Diamonds’ home jersey) is tucked into your skirt when you catch Mingyu picking something up from the floor.

It’s your underwear.

“Gimme!” You pout, trying to reach for it. But all Mingyu has to do is raise it above his head and it’s impossible for your to retrieve the flimsy lace

“I think I’ll keep this one for now,” he starts, “Think of it as a lucky charm.”

He unrolls the flimsy fabric and folds it into a small square, tucking it into his compression shorts and tightening up the drawstring of his uniform.

“If you want to be good for daddy tonight, you’ll keep all my cum inside of you, won’t you?” He says sweetly, talking you through the idea he’s suddenly come up with, “then daddy will win this game and fuck you with my medal on.”

After trying to get both of you presentable again, you slip out of the auxiliary locker room hand in hand just two minutes over Seungcheol’s initial 10 minute deadline.

You greet the team as they all line up again to return to the pitch and smile proudly as Mingyu talks to his teammates about feeling more relaxed and ready to play. You don’t miss the way he lets go of your hand just to wrap an arm around your waist, hand resting just on the curve of your ass as you two pass the players of the opposite team.

“Good luck, daddy. Come back to me a champion, please.” You bat your eyelashes at him and press the most innocent of kisses to his cheek.

The sweet moment is interrupted by an exuberant, “OKAY! LET’S GO!” from Hoshi.

You roll your eyes at him playfully but give in when he asks for a fist bump and says, “Tiny, thank you as always for your invaluable contribution to the Diamonds.”

You head off to where Hoshi’s girlfriend is seated, opting to be surrounded by friends and fans alike, but not before hearing the two teammates’ exchange.

“You ready to show them up, rockstar?” Is Hoshi’s jest.

Mingyu can only laugh and say, “Fuck you.”

And show them up he does. Just 6 minutes back on the pitch and Mingyu reminds everyone why he’s one of South Korea’s most prolific strikers. With an assist from Jeonghan Mingyu is lighting fast as he performs one of his signature moves and sends the ball flying to the top left corner of the goal.

You scream your throat hoarse as you watch him run across the pitch towards a camera, pointing and kissing the diamond crest on his chest.

Not long after that Mingyu nets a freekick from just beyond the penalty box, equalizing the game. With so much at stake and still so many minutes on the clock, you can hardly breathe easily, knowing it could still go either way. And it does. 

At the 80th minute the opposition scores their third goal and you could practically feel the Diamonds’ crowd deflating, fearing a repeat of the previous year.

“They can still equalize, I’m sure of it,” you hear Hoshi’s girlfriend from beside you, “As long as Soonyoung doesn’t fuck up and your boyfriend produces another one of his miracles, we can take this to penalties.”

You groan. You hate penalties, but you know how much this match means to Mingyu and the team.

Despite the possibilities, the game has gone into injury time and the crowd around you already look like they’re ready to pack up but sticking around just in case.

The majority of the players are crowded around the opponents’ goal, desperate feet hoping to score or hoping to defend. At this point some of the opposite side’s players are just trying to kill time to secure their win.

Hoshi is yelling orders from along the Diamonds’ midfield, abandoning his goal with the confidence that his teammates will surely take another goal. 

But time just about stops when the Diamonds are awarded a corner. Jeonghan looks like he’s dragging his feet about taking it, walking away to have someone else take the kick. But in a split second he turns back to kick the ball in a beautiful arch that meets none other than Mingyu’s right foot to take a third goal.

Hat trick.

Penalties are an awful cruel thing for any football fan, you think. Even after over ninety minutes a winner still isn’t decided and it falls down to each team’s five penalty takers and their goalkeepers.

Hoshi’s girlfriend is in hysterics next to you, gripping your hand like a lifeline. Mingyu had been the first to take his penalty, the ball floating almost gracefully and finding itself out of the keeper’s reach in a split second.

The score was at 4-3 with the Diamonds in the lead after Seungkwan’s attempt had found the back of the net neatly. If their opponents miss this, the championships would be theirs.

This all falls down to their captain.

Hoshi has always been so dependable and today is no exception. The very second he deflects that fifth and final attempt, cheers erupted in every direction and the final whistle is blown. 

The Diamonds won the Korean FA Cup.

The players, the coaches, and press flood the pitch and white confetti erupts around you. Before you know it your seatmate has vanished. She’s running across the pitch to jump into Hoshi’s arms, kissing away the tears pouring down his face, the team captain overcome with emotion.

Jealousy flares in your chest and you try to look everywhere for Mingyu. You stand indignantly, looking all over for him when you’re reminded of gravity.

The intensity of the match and the anxiety at its uncertainty had taken your mind away from your mid-match tryst with Mingyu and from the fact that he had come so deeply inside of you that it was only now that you were standing and pacing and you could feel the thick, sticky seed moving inside of you, threatening to drip out of your hole. You didn’t even have any underwear to catch it and sop up the mess, the lace neatly folded and tucked into Mingyu’s own underwear. 

You stamp your foot and a whine pathetically when you feel someone come up behind you. You quickly turn to see that, amidst the chaos, Mingyu had found you.

You’d only been away from each other for an hour but in that hour he had become a champion and that fact alone had changed him. He looked like some Greek hero with how he stood with pride painted on his face and how his handsome smirk screamed winner.

God, you needed to suck his cock. 

Luckily for you, Mingyu had the same idea. With the flurry around the win and the podium and carpets still being set up, the captain, manager, and executives still giving interviews, Mingyu knows everyone will be busy and he has time to whisk you away before anyone will even notice he’s gone.

That’s how you end up in the team’s main locker room, still a bit messy from the half time huddle, kneeling in front of Mingyu’s locker and choking on his cock.

“That’s right, baby. Take it slow so you can take more daddy in your mouth,” is his sweet encouragement before he takes the bottle of champagne next to him and takes a long swig.

You’re transfixed, blinking teary eyes to clear them, just so you don’t have to look away from the sight in front of you.

Mingyu had stripped everything off, feeling like he was overheating from the match he’d just played. He sat like a king, leaning back against his locker, spreading his legs and propping one leg up on the bench. He’d popped open a bottle of champagne and pressed the mouth of the bottle to your lips, watching the alcohol overflow from your mouth and drip down your chin to your neck and down your chest.

He kisses you shortly after, tasting the Moët on your tongue and pushing you down onto your knees.

There’s no need to preface anything because in no time you’re gagging on him. It doesn’t take much to have you drooling all over him, his cock so much bigger than what you should actually have in your mouth.

“You can fuck my throat, daddy, please please please!” You gasp out as he pulls you off of him so you can take in a deep breath.

“I know baby,” he says before taking another swig of that champagne, your eyes following the way his Adam's apple bobs. 

He leans down to bring the bottle to your mouth and says, “tongue out, my filthy girl.”

Your spit is thick and sticky in your mouth and you make a show of it when you follow his orders. He wraps a hand around your throat to steady you as he pours champagne into your mouth again, not caring about how much falls down the side of your mouth and dampens your jersey.

He leans back, pleased with the indulgent mess before him, and grabs at the hair at the crown of your head to pull you back down on his cock.

You’re a dream. You had been so good, so obedient at learning to take his cock over the years, and now he’s sure he’s molded himself into your throat the same way he’s made your pussy perfect for only him.

“My perfect girl’s got the most perfect mouth, huh?” He’s holding you down onto him, keeping your head in place, “The filthiest fucking mouth and its all for dad’s cock.”

The noises are disgusting. With your mouth full you can’t say anything but you’re happy just to listen to him come undone. Your spit and his pre-cum gather at the sides of your mouth but you don’t want to stop until he’s pumping his sticky cum onto your tongue.

You pull off of him to lave your tongue over his balls, sucking on one and then the other before saying, “Daddy, I think I deserve to drink your cum, right?”

Mingyu swears under his breath, somehow still not believing how lucky he got with you, your depraved mind the only one that can match his own.

He downs the rest of the champagne and moves to kiss you, sharing the drink. You gulp down what you can before going back down on him, holding down his hips as the muscles beneath your fingers jerk as he fills your mouth. 

Mingyu comes in thick ropes of sticky hot cum that you almost have trouble swallowing, but daddy trained you to be a good girl, thankful for everything she gets. So you swallow every single drop, proudly showing Mingyu your empty mouth.

“Atta girl.”

You try to be on your best behavior and good for Mingyu for the rest of the evening. You’re the picture-perfect girlfriend watching and cheering proudly as he gets his gold medal and the team cheers in unison once Hoshi lifts the trophy above his head. The pictures are taken and the interviews are given but there’s only so much you can take and by the time Mingyu has you buckled up into his car, you’re feeling unnecessarily bratty.

“Baby,” Mingyu starts. You’re some fifteen minutes away from his house and he’s about to get into it now?

“Mm,” is your petulant response.

“Listen to me,” he warns.

But it almost comes as an instinct to you to retaliate, having the most fun when you two go back and forth like this.

“Don’ wanna.”

From the corner of your eye you see his jaw harden.

“Didn’t daddy fill you up, today?” He says as more of a statement.

“He did.”

“Didn’t daddy feed you his come, princess?”

You start to flush, “He did.”

“And then didn’t daddy say he was going to fuck you with his medal on if he won the championships?”

He’s pulling up to his house now and you almost let out a sigh of relief.

“He did,” you answer.

He parks and turns to you, “Then you are going to get out of this car and head up to our room and you are going to strip yourself naked.”

You’ve been waiting for this. Finally, away from any prying eyes and ears, no matter how accepting, you can finally let loose and have him every way you want him.

“Daddy will park the car and unload the stuff and when I come into the room I better see that messy pussy served up for me.”

There’s buzzing in your ears and you bite your lips.

“Of course, daddy.”

It starts with your good intentions, really.

You had asked him kindly to lay back against the pillows and the headboard promising that you were going to be real good, daddy, I promise! And that you were so proud of him, that he was so yummy on the field and of course he was going to be the winner.

You wanted to reward him, said that daddy deserves to be ridden to have your tits in his face, to be spoiled.

To be fair, it was a valiant effort on your end. Once he’d settled into bed, you squealed and threw yourself over him, chest to chest as you rubbed your bare pussy onto his cock.

You were aching to be stuffed but you know how sloppy and wet he likes your pussy to be. And through his cum from earlier today was smeared all over your cunt and thighs, you knew you could do better for him.

You pressed kisses to his chest while running your hands over the dips and divots, the hardness and softness of his chest and abs and sighed dreamily as you met his eyes through thick lashes, “I love you daddy, I’m so happy for you.”

“I love you too, baby. I’m happy I made you happy,” was his simple response.

You bit your lip at the elation that filled your chest and you pressed a quick kiss to the gold medal resting on his chest. You stood on your knees on either side of his hips and kept one hand on his stomach to steady yourself as you lined his cock with your entrance.

The delicious stretch and resistance was still there as you sank down on him, his own spend mixing with your slick, making the slide delicious.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off how your pussy split open to take all of him. The pace is slow and your whimpers of “Daddy, daddy, daddy” made his head spin.

But while slow and romantic was good, it was always just how your love making started. This was all before your thighs had grown tired and your lower back started to hurt.

Mingyu tried to talk you through it, guide your hips on how to grind just right for the head of his cock to press against that spot inside of you. Even his encouragement of you can do it, pretty, daddy’s tired is futile when you finally cry out.

“But daddyyyyy,” comes the high pitched whine, “I’M TIRED TOO. Don’t you feel bad for your baby?”

And he breaks at that.

He sits up and flips the two of you over without even pulling out and your eyes roll as the movements jostle him inside of you.

The anticipation is reaching its boiling point when lifts one leg and places it over his shoulder and pulls out of you to rest his cock on your sopping cunt.

He loves this. It’s fucking sick, but he loves to see how big he is compared to your little hole. He loves to see the head of his cock aligned with your belly button and how you clench around nothing, already missing him inside you.

Before he decides to push his cock back inside you he grasps himself by the base and rubs harshly at your entrance and clit with the engorged head of his cock. It makes you squeal as the rough stimulation shocks your system.

He had left you hanging during half time, with only just enough time for him to fill you up, and you had been too preoccupied blowing him to rub yourself to completion after the match.

But the blessed feeling of an orgasm is finally bubbling back onto the surface now that Mingyu was focusing on your pleasure.

“You’ll give me this, right, baby?” He says pulling you back to him. He wants you to be present, to know how he’s making your body tick, “Be my good girl and wet my cock, daddy wants this pussy to be dripping when he fucks it.”

You whimper in acknowledgment and he speeds up his ministrations, the stimulation getting to him as well as beads of pre-cum mix with your slick and eventually, the spray of your cum squirting out of you messily. 

Your moan is music to his ears and you cry out as he pushes his cock into you, not giving you even a second of respite.

With both hands free, Mingyu positions both of your legs over his shoulders, your stupid frilly socks tickling his ears. This position is a favorite for the both of you. He loves how deep he can fuck you like this, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. And you love how when you put your hand just under your belly button, you can see and feel how his cock moves inside you.

“Fuck, look at you,” he says all too breathless, “So fucking perfect.” The sweat beading on his face falls on your temples and you want to cry — what a waste not to taste him on your tongue.

“My perfect little cocksleeve, that I made just for me, isn’t that right. Fuck.” He’s losing it and God do you want him to fall apart.

He pulls away slightly and laughs to himself a little when he sees how his medal, still around his neck, is resting on your chest, bouncing slightly as he continues to fuck into you. What a sight. And only his.

What a day it’s been for him to have woken up in this very bed alone and just another football player hoping for a dream to come true. And to end up here now, in the same bed with you calling out to him like a litany of prayers and his champion’s medal sitting between your tits, bite marks on the flesh contrasting prettily against the yellow gold.

He bites his lip and focuses on your bodies and how you can barely get the word ‘daddy’ out coherently, mumbling dadd-da-daddy-dad unintelligibly. He does you a kindness and presses a hand down where your smaller one is, and thrusts hashly, loving the way you clench around him as you finally reach a second peak. The vice grip your pussy has on his cock is enough to push him over the edge as well, spilling another load into you and your eyes flutter shut.

Mingyu doesn’t pull out of you but sets your legs down and massages the insides of your thighs because he knows you’ll complain about them tomorrow.

He slips off his medal and sets it on the bedside table next to your phones.

After arranging your bodies to be more comfortable, he presses soft kisses on your ear and into your hair, chuckling slightly as you mumble in your sleep that it tickles. 

Mingyu can’t help but keep that smile even as he settles down. It feels so good to be a winner.

-`✮´- if you've come this far, thank you and it'd mean the world to get a reblog or to hear your thoughts on my first fic on here!

[astroa3h]

midheaven through the signs 💖

The Midheaven is your career compass, pointing you towards your professional path, shaping your social standing, and painting the picture of your public persona. It's like the universe's way of saying, "Hey, this is where you're meant to shine!" Now, let's break it down by zodiac sign, shall we?

Aries Midheaven: If you've got this fiery placement, you're a force to be reckoned with in the professional arena. You charge into things headfirst, fearless and ready to conquer. Your public persona? Bold, energetic, and unapologetically authentic. People can't help but be drawn to your magnetic charisma, and your social standing? Well, let's just say you're not one to fade into the background. You make sure you stand out anyway you can.

Taurus Midheaven: Slow and steady wins the race, right? That's your motto if your Midheaven falls in Taurus. You're all about building a solid foundation in your career, taking your time to create something enduring and of quality. Your public persona exudes reliability and dependability, like the rock everyone can lean on. And as for your social standing? You're the epitome of stability and success, you have the midas touch even if it doesn't always feel like it.

Gemini Midheaven: Ah, the social butterfly of the zodiac! With Gemini Midheaven, you're a master communicator and jack of all trades. Your professional path might involve fields like writing, teaching, or anything that allows you to flex your mental muscles. Your public persona is witty, charming, and endlessly curious, keeping everyone on their toes. And in terms of social standing? You're the one everyone wants at their party, the ultimate mingler and networker extraordinaire.

Cancer Midheaven: Cue the emotional depth and nurturing vibes! If your Midheaven falls in Cancer, your professional path likely revolves around caring for others in some way. You're the empathetic soul who thrives in fields like counseling, caregiving, or anything that lets you tap into your nurturing side. Your public persona is compassionate, intuitive, and deeply connected to your emotions. And in terms of social standing? You're the heart of the community, the one everyone turns to in times of need.

Leo Midheaven: Get ready for your close-up because with Leo Midheaven, you were born to shine in the spotlight! Your professional path is all about creativity, performance, and leadership. You're the natural-born leader, commanding attention wherever you go. Your public persona is bold, confident, and larger than life, like a true Hollywood star. And in terms of social standing? You're the king or queen of the jungle, the one everyone looks up to with awe and admiration.

Virgo Midheaven: Precision, perfection, and pragmatism—that's your game with Virgo Midheaven. Your professional path likely involves fields that require attention to detail, organization, and problem-solving. You're the analytical mind who excels in areas like accounting, healthcare, or research. Your public persona is humble, reliable, and quietly competent, earning you respect wherever you go. And in terms of social standing? You're the trusted expert, the one everyone relies on for practical advice and solutions.

Libra Midheaven: Balance and harmony are your bread and butter with Libra Midheaven. Your professional path is all about relationships, diplomacy, and aesthetics. You're the peacemaker who thrives in fields like law, counseling, or anything that requires finesse and negotiation skills. Your public persona is charming, diplomatic, and effortlessly stylish, drawing people in with your magnetic charm. And in terms of social standing? You're the social butterfly, the one everyone wants to befriend and collaborate with.

Scorpio Midheaven: Hold onto your hats because things are about to get intense with Scorpio Midheaven. Your professional path is all about transformation, depth, and uncovering hidden truths. You're the detective of the zodiac, excelling in fields like psychology, investigation, or anything that requires digging beneath the surface. Your public persona is mysterious, intense, and magnetic, drawing people in with your enigmatic allure. And in terms of social standing? You're the power player, the one everyone respects and fears in equal measure.

Sagittarius Midheaven: Adventure awaits with Sagittarius Midheaven! Your professional path is all about expansion, exploration, and pushing boundaries. You're the eternal optimist who thrives in fields like travel, education, or anything that allows you to spread your wings and explore new horizons. Your public persona is adventurous, enthusiastic, and endlessly curious, inspiring others to follow their dreams. And in terms of social standing? You're the free spirit, the one everyone admires for your fearlessness and joie de vivre.

Capricorn Midheaven: Time to climb that cosmic ladder with Capricorn Midheaven! Your professional path is all about ambition, discipline, and climbing to the top of the mountain. You're the ultimate goal-setter who excels in fields like business, finance, or anything that requires strategic thinking and long-term planning. Your public persona is authoritative, determined, and fiercely independent, commanding respect wherever you go. And in terms of social standing? You're the pillar of the community, the one everyone looks up to for guidance and leadership.

Aquarius Midheaven: Buckle up because you're about to shake things up with Aquarius Midheaven! Your professional path is all about innovation, progress, and challenging the status quo. You're the visionary thinker who excels in fields like technology, activism, or anything that pushes the boundaries of what's possible. Your public persona is unconventional, eccentric, and ahead of your time, inspiring others to think outside the box. And in terms of social standing? You're the trailblazer, the one everyone looks to for fresh ideas and bold solutions.

Pisces Midheaven: Dive into the depths of your imagination with Pisces Midheaven! Your professional path is all about creativity, intuition, and tapping into the collective unconscious. You're the dreamer who excels in fields like art, spirituality, or anything that allows you to express your deepest emotions. Your public persona is empathetic, mystical, and deeply connected to the spiritual realm, touching the hearts of everyone you meet. And in terms of social standing? You're the healer, the one everyone turns to for comfort and inspiration in times of need.

xox astro ash ✨ Get your own Natal Chart Reading @ astroash.net

[toxycodone]

𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘥 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 !

𝘤𝘸. 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘰𝘴, 𝘬𝘢𝘣𝘳𝘶, 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘤𝘩𝘶𝘤𝘬

Laios:

I genuinely think Laios is attracted to the unconventional or stereotypically attractive. Anyone with unique features, personality quirks, etc. If you don't fit in, you're more willing to catch his eye.

He finds it difficult to really like? Gain an interest in someone who doesn't really "stick out". I think it's clear with the way he treats Kabru that like! People kinda are a blur to him! So! anything that makes someone stick out will catch his interest and he'd be more willing to remember them + actually continue to think about them.

MUST. Share his interest in monsters/animals. This is very important. Like there must be a shared interest there whether its just about anatomy, behavior, etc. I just think he needs to be accepted to talk about this and share fun facts. He likes it. Cooking or an interest in food would also be another plus.

Also just? He likes really easygoing people who aren't super judgemental. Laios is really unapologetically himself and he gets chewed out for it by his friends enough. He's very self aware when it comes to his own issues (esp by the end of the manga) so. Yeah. Just someone who he doesn't feel the need to mask around.

Honestly, maybe someone childish would fit his vibe too? I mean this in a more lighthearted sense. Like someone he could play tag with or goof around in the woods with. He missed out on being a kid for a while, and he's still kinda interested in stuff like that (bug collecting, cool rocks, etc.). Even in post manga he still wants this.

Also uhhhh beastkin/monsters/whatever of any kind get bonus points. Do they have to be this way? No. But. It would definitely do some favors to be feral/wild in some way like this.

Kabru:

Okay I am not saying this is healthy or anything, but Kabru is ridiculously attracted to fixer-uppers. The main character/savior/hero complex kicks in and he cannot help it.

This can either be super good for him if the person is like. not terrible and is actually okay with this. but uh. that isn't always the case. Bro is often setting himself up for some sort of situationship most of the time. He cannot catch a break.

But he totally needs to be confronted about this to have a relationship work out. Hope you can be at least a little assertive!

Oh and the people pleasing. It's going so far. Please, I-....

He needs to be stopped.

Ultimately. He's gonna go after the people who show the least interest in him and this SPECIFICALLY comes from his own insecurities as a person.

But in the end he's gonna truly fall for someone who can put their foot down and confront him about these issues. He's so insightful and perceptive when it comes to others and can easily point out and help you with you're own shortcomings. But he is super blind to his own faults. Legit does not. Even realize.

He honestly needs someone to help him grow, because in my eyes I can see him like even post manga being pretty stagnant here so . Yeah. You don't need to be like some badass assertive person either. As long as you can just sit down and have a serious conversation w him about this I think it'd go well.

And he'd fall for you because I think it's the first time he genuinely sees someone who recognizes things that are bad about him + still loves him despite that + wants him to grow as a person and assert his own wishes and needs more. Yeah. I just have a lot of feelings about that.

Chilchuck:

This goes two ways.

Non Toxic Route

He'd easily see himself falling for someone mature and responsible. It would start out as just a professional admiration but it would slowly become more intimate as Chilchuck starts to enjoy their more unique personality traits (and even ones he'd consider annoying) --like being feisty, or maybe they're picky, or they can be silly sometimes. That type of thing.

It's a total slow burn with him.

But he also likes people who are more lowkey. Chilchuck is not a "falls for you immediately/puppy love" kinda guy. He's jaded and has a past and has KIDS so. He needs to be treated gently and not rushed into things. Anyone who lets him come to them and start to be more affectionate without demanding it...yeah. Handle him with care PLEASE.

And speaking of this...he wants to keep up appearances since he does value his professional life and has kids and an ex-wife. So he wants someone that can blend into this life without causing drama or more headaches (his party gives him plenty. pls.)

"Toxic"/Not Gonna Last Route

Chilchuck is easily motivated by the more basic pleasures of life, so I can definitely see him having a bootycall that becomes some weird "what are we" type of vibe.

He's like...in the back of his mind the type to enjoy a "dirty little secret". Something he thinks only him and this person know about. But as time goes on he eventually gets emotionally involved with them and is like "we need to cut this off".

It is an extremely painful breakup on his end for sure and makes him more jaded when its literally! His own fault.