#can you hear my teeth gritting from the screen

[somethingsteff]

Political prompt!!

President Obi-Wan and political reporter Anakin get in a heated discussion in the press conference room that leads to some heated sex😏

Almost 2k words later and I bring you this little morsel! I had a ton of fun with this and really leaned into the West Wing vibes for it (I maintain that Charlie would make a great bodyman for President Kenobi). I hope you like it, friend!

Obi-Wan felt his nails dig painfully into his palms, but he was unable to release the tight fists. It was bad enough that someone had gone after a school - a school, children! - but for one of the press corps to accuse the administration of not investigating to their fullest potential. It was unfathomable. They had just received confirmation from a local health department that the recent string of illnesses at a Mandalore school district was from someone maliciously tampering with their water supply that morning. The federal government only just got asked to intervene. 

What more could Obi-Wan have done? He had immediately quarantined the buildings and dispatched a third party investigatory team to the site. He contacted the CDC and WHO for support in quick and effective treatment for all those who have been affected. Hell, he even asked his bodyman to compile a list of names and contact information so he could make calls to all the families, personally. 

All he could think about as he got each update was how easily it could have been Korkie, poisoned and in the hospital, if Satine hadn't brought him with her to Coruscant so she could be her best friend's Press Secretary. And now she was fending off accusations left and right by one man in particular. 

Anakin Skywalker.

Though he was a relatively new member of the press corps, he was well on the way toward making a name for himself. Obi-Wan had been curious about the curly-haired reporter himself. Now he was only gritting his teeth and wishing the boy would just shut up. 

“Does this administration have any excuses for why it's not taking action toward any of the suspected perpetrators?” Anakin's angry voice rang out through Obi-Wan's screen as he watched Satine deftly handle the angry man. Again. 

He couldn't handle it any longer.

Quickly navigating the hallways in the West Wing, Obi-Wan didn't notice the wave of people standing as he approached and sitting after he moved past them. He made it to the reporters’ bullpen at the back of the Press Room in record time, and instructed an aide to hold Skywalker off after the reporters were dismissed. He wanted to answer some of his questions personally.

A guard kept the reporters from streaming past Obi-Wan, instead guiding them toward another door and out of the room, but allowed Satine to approach him.

“Don't do anything you'll regret, Obi. He's just an angry kid, he doesn't mean anything by it.”

He couldn't bring himself to answer her, but did squeeze her hand as she walked away, taking comfort in her corresponding embrace.

“Mr. Skywalker,” Obi-Wan walked into the mostly empty Press Room and gestured for the remaining staff to leave them. “I hear you have some questions about the incident in Mandalore. Rather than letting you continue harassing my staff, I thought I'd give you the opportunity to ask me your questions directly. Off the record.”

Anakin's face didn't change when he saw Obi-Wan walk in, he hadn't expected it to, but at the mention of the school poisoning anger flared up in his eyes once more.

“Gee, thanks, Kenobi-”

“President Kenobi.”

“-I do have a few questions for you. But it really all boils down to one; why are you sitting on your ass instead of doing something about the attack?”

Obi-Wan had to fight not to outwardly bristle at the accusation that he hadn't done anything. “I assure you, we are doing everything within our power to get to the bottom of this situation.”

“‘Doing everything in your power’?” Anakin mocked. “Please! You're all twiddling your thumbs until you can get an optics report so you don't lose face in the election cycle.”

A muscle in Obi-Wan's jaw twitched, but he let Anakin keep going.

“I really expected better from you Kenobi, this shitshow-”

“Enough.” Obi-Wan didn't raise his voice, but he let all the ice he'd been feeling in his veins since this whole situation started seep into his tone. “I am the President, and regardless of what you think of my actions you will address me as such and with the respect that position deserves. You will cease calling me ‘Kenobi’, you will call me ‘Mr. President,’ ‘President Kenobi,’ or ‘Sir.’”

It appeared that Anakin wanted to interrupt, so he held out a hand.

“Now. I don't give a damn about optics, especially regarding an attack on children. What I do care about is completing this investigation and prosecution quickly, thoroughly, and with as little impact on the victims as possible. I will not let this become a media storm, and I will not stand for you accosting my staff.” He looked at Skywalker for a moment before coming to a decision. “Were you aware that Press Secretary Kryze is from Mandalore? No? Well, prior to moving out here after my confirmation her son went to that school. She knows many of the children and parents, and in all likelihood she and her son would have been directly impacted were she not out here.”

Anakin finally had the audacity to look ashamed, quickly gazing down at the floor and scuffing the toe of his dress show against the carpet. His cheeks were beginning to turn pink, and Obi-Wan realized his own face felt warm and his breathing had become heavy. Throughout his lecture he had become more and more riled up, letting his famed control slip just a fraction, and it seemed to cause the boy in front of him to squirm.

Good.

While he took the time to catch his breath, Obi-Wan looked more closely at the reporter. He was fidgeting with the hem of his dress shirt - he vaguely recalled that it frequently became untucked as Skywalker used the edge to clean the lenses on his black-rimmed glasses - tugging it down lower and- oh.

Oh.

He was hard.

The thin slacks that fit snugly along thick thighs did little to hide the bulge that was now pressing along his inseam. Try as he might, there was nothing he could do to hide it from his President.

The silence finally stretched to its breaking point and Anakin looked up. His eyes were blown, pupils swallowing what Obi-Wan knew was a lovely shade of blue. “I'm sorry, sir,” he said in a small voice. “It won't happen again.”

Obi-Wan considered the stress he had been under for the past few days - really since he was sworn into office, but the additional stress of late hadn't been any help. With a deep exhale, he decided to test his luck and see if he couldn't partake in some stress relief while simultaneously ensuring this reporter really did learn his lesson.

He stepped closer to the young man, coming toe to toe and letting his breath fan across his face. “You're correct. It won't ever happen again. And we're going to make sure of that.”

Telegraphing his moves clearly so that Anakin could stop him at any time, Obi-Wan reached his hand out and cupped the nape of his neck, pulling their mouths together into a kiss that started chaste and quickly devolved from there.

Anakin let the older man's tongue slip into his mouth, submitting so beautifully, and followed his lead as Obi-Wan, President Kenobi, led him over to the podium at the head of the room. As quickly as the kiss had begun, it was over. Obi-Wan spun Anakin around and bent him at the waist, forcing him to brace himself against the podium with his forearms. 

“Now, darling, let us see if we can really drive this lesson home.”

Obi-Wan reached around and unbuckled the reporter's belt before opening his fly and pulling his trousers and briefs down to mid-thigh. 

He trailed one hand up the prone body before him and traced the plush lips. “Suck,” he said directly into Anakin's ear and felt the responding shiver as the younger man eagerly pulled the digits into his mouth. “That's a good lad.”

Thoroughly coated in saliva, Obi-Wan pulled his fingers back and let them fall to trace along the rim hidden between the perfect globes of Anakin's ass.

“Now relax,” he breathed as he slid one finger in to the knuckle.

Anakin's body quickly adjusted, and soon the single digit was joined by one, two, three more until Anakin was a panting, quivering mess. 

“Please, Mr. President. I'm ready, I'm, uhn, ready.”

“Very good, darling.”

Despite his blood supply diverting to his aching cock, Obi-Wan quickly undid his own slacks and pulled himself out of the ever-tightening confines. He spit in his hand and slicked up his own length before pressing the head against Anakin's loosened hole.

“Are you sure you want to do this, dear one?”

“Yes, Mr. President. I want you. Please.”

Obi-Wan slowly pushed in and immediately felt a glorious heat surround him. It was addicting, and he found himself hoping he could have this again and again. Once he was fully seated he paused, waiting for Anakin to adjust to his formidable size. Only when he felt Anakin's hips push backward, trying to fuck himself on the cock filling him, did he start thrusting.

Soon the only sounds in the room were the obscene slap of their hips and Anakin's constant gasps and moans.

“President Kenobi, I'm gonna-” Anakin's sentence cut off with a moan.

“That's it, darling. Can you come like this?”

Anakin nodded and Obi-Wan increased his pace, frantically slamming into the body beneath his hands. As he looked down to watch his cock disappear into the reporter - his reporter? - he shifted his grip on those glorious hips so that he could dig his thumbs in and pull those plush cheeks apart. The slight jostling must have changed their positions just enough because Anakin let out a long and wordless groan, his arms giving out beneath him. 

Obi-Wan continued to punish the younger man's prostate, chasing his own orgasm as much as he was his partners, when he felt muscles tense beneath his hands and around his length, Anakin letting out another cry as he spilled across the podium.

It only took one, two, three more frantic pumps before Obi-Wan felt his own release crash over him, hips stuttering as they worked to push his seed deep into his partner's willing body. When he finally felt the last dregs of his orgasm fade he let gravity pull his body on top of Anakin's on the podium, taking a moment to catch his breath before even contemplating slipping out of him.

“Thank you, Mr. President.” Though Anakin's voice was still a little shaky it sounded content and drowsy.

“I'm glad you've learned your lesson, Mr. Skywalker.”

He was forced out of Anakin as the younger man stood straighter and turned around. “I don't know, Mr. President. I'm a pretty slow learner. I might need another lecture.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, but straightened them both up nonetheless and led the infuriating reporter over to the Residence. He had a feeling it would take more than one more lecture and he found he was very amicable to the idea.

[pillowenvelopchair]

Magdalene doodle from @un-local ‘s fic! Go check it out if you have the time

a bonus one of her drinking coffee with a mug that says "I survived Liurnia" (not that intelligible in the drawing oops)

[kissitbttr]

holup— ima need a moment with my thoughts 🥵🥵 miguel sending reader’s ex a photo mid-sex is so petty and so him!! he would follow up with a video of himself giving you back shots (he’ll hide your face because he’s a gentlemen (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)), flip the camera around to show his face with a smirk and say “lose her number” because he’s a cocky ass mf

MAAAN you’re onto something anon, cuz a waterfall just breaks down in between my legs🤤🤤

-

“hmm, you like that huh, baby?”

his lips pulls into a lazy smirk, heavy panting as he pounds you from behind. both of his hands gripping onto your hips, talons digging slightly into the skin giving you the perfect pain of pleasure,

“yes papi—fuck yes” you mewl, mouth slightly wide open as you release another moan that makes his cock twitch. “i love how deep you get inside me”

he exhales a dark chuckle as he pounds faster, “sé que te gusta. dirty, dirty fucking girl.” then he leans slightly to whisper on your ear. “only for me, hm?”

you nod, biting down onto your lower lip as you’re running out of things to say. your brain tends to fogged when you have his cock deep inside your cunt, but you wouldn’t have it any other way,

as he about to fist your hair up, he hears a ‘ding’ coming from your phone. his brows furrowed curiously, because who the fuck is hitting up your phone at this hour? couldn’t be someone from work,

“who’s that?” he asks breathlessly as he watches you pull your head back before grabbing your phone and check,

“aw fuck”

“what?” he asks again, hearing you groan. “who is it?”

“remember Jonathan?” you ask as you look over your shoulder at him

oh man, he does not need to be told twice.

his expression then slowly formed into anger and annoyance, grunting in disgust as he snatches your phone,

“i’ll teach him a fucking lesson” he says through gritted teeth, hips snapping back into yours as he continues to thrust even faster,

miguel unlocks your phone, pressing the camera before he starts to take a video of your backside. the sound of your dirty moans are filling the room as he plunges deeper, his other hand coming to give your ass a smack.

the word ‘papi’ and ‘miguel’ keeps falling off your lips like a prayer, and it just feeds his ego even more. because he knows that Jonathan will watch this video and learns that you don’t belong to that sorry excuse of a man anymore.

no. you belong to him.

“tell me, baby” he adjusts the camera to the back of your head, making sure that your face isn’t in it. “who’s pussy is this?”

“yours” you say without any hesitation, knuckles turning white from gripping the sheets far too hard. “and no one else’s”

“good girl” he then flips the camera to show his face. his expression is dead serious, eyes locked into the screen as if he’s staring Jonathan in person. and for the icing on a cake, his fangs make a tiny bit appearance just to creep him off.

“lose her number, tú hijo de puta. or i’ll kill you” with that he sends it to your ex, throwing your phone to the side. “now he fucking knows to not text you anymore ”

hearing that makes you flush as you giggle. miguel’s hand slowly glide down against you back and pressing you onto the mattress so he can lay his body down completely on top. “my woman” he whispers lowly into your ear,

“hm, maybe next time if he does it again, you should take a picture of me sucking your cock, right papi?” you suggest with a sly smirk,

he groans at that, his hand coming up to choke you as the other supporting his weight beside your torso.

“ay, that’s why you’re my everything, mami”

[swordsandholly]

Fancy

Ch 2: Just Be Nice to the Gentlemen, Fancy

Previous | Next | Ao3

NSFW | MDNI

Vampire! Poly 141 x Fem! Plus Size! Reader

Word Count: 7k

Summary: A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life.

Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate for the better.

A/N: Y’all are getting updates to two fics in a row bc my Wellbutrin has well and truly kicked in. Say thank you to big pharma or whatever

A week passes. You tucked that wad of cash into your special hiding spot behind the vent above your bed. It still feels like it’s burning a hole through you. You made lists of things everything you could possibly spend it on, how much each item costs individually, how much it might help if you save it. In the end, you decided - rather impulsively - to get all new water filters for your entire apartment. The shower head and both sinks. It eats away most of the cash but you’ve never felt so clean - never realized the amount of sludge sticking to your skin until it wasn’t anymore.

The four men haven’t come back, at least to your knowledge. Most likely they’re done with you after that single meeting. They’ve gone back to Cherry and you’re back to working as a server - having meager tips shoved down the bust of your dress and too rough hands grabbing your inner thighs.

After the gentile treatment you received, though, you feel a bit disgusted. Reminded that they choose to be this way. That vampires aren’t just like that, they aren’t made like that, they choose to treat you - to treat humans - terribly. It makes your gut churn with anger in a way it hasn’t since you were an over-achieving teen sneaking out to attend protests in the lower city square.

It is what it is. Life goes on.

The train lurches on your way to work, as usual. News and advertisements scroll along the screens lining the top of the cabin.

TWO DEAD: LOWER THIRD STREET - BOTH EXSANGUINATED

DISAPPEARANCES CONTINUE TO GROW IN NUMBER IN THE FRENCH QUARTER

ONCE AGAIN THE CITY COUNCIL OVERRULES SUIT FOR HUMAN REPRESENTATIVE CHAIR

UNIDENTIFIED SUBSTANCE FOUND IN JANE DOE

With grit teeth you tear your eyes away. People around you whisper, conspire about what might be going on. As if you all don’t already know what’s happening. As if there isn’t a cancer in this city centuries old.

Nothing is new under the constant night.

Life goes on.

You sigh, quietly checking yourself in the mirror before locking up your things in the employee break room and punching in your time card. Before you can even step foot toward the main floor, a girl with pitch black hair begins charging toward you.

“You!” Cherry stomps up to you, voice cracking with anger. Her platform boots raise her up above your level.

You nearly jump out of your skin, instinctively backing away and against the wall. “W-what -“

“You stole my clients!” She shrieks.

“I- what?”

“Cherry.” The owner warns, appearing behind her. A shadow looming over the two of you. A man ready to grab the scruffs of two warring kittens. A few other girls who just arrived for their shifts stare with wide, nervous eyes.

The last time there was a fight here a girl got her eye stabbed out.

“You took them! They’re my best paying clients and you took them! What did you do, huh? You suck their cocks for free?” Her face is barely an inch from yours and a sharp acrylic nail pokes your chest so harshly you’re surprised it doesn’t break skin.

It’s your turn to fume - face hot and hands balling into fists. “How dare you! I swear to god I-“

“Ladies!” The owner booms, grabbing both your shoulders, effectively putting an end to this little spat before it can escalate further. “Quiet. Our guests will hear you. Cherry, go smoke a cig and cool the fuck off. Fancy, follow me.”

You feel a bit like a child on their way to the principles office as you follow the owner toward the bar, wringing your hands and glancing around wildly. Despite your irritation, fear creeps through every part of you. The other girls are staring - whispering to each other behind perfectly manicured hands.

“I - sir - I really didn’t-“ You stop when that same gold tray is shoved into your hands.

“I don’t care what you did or didn’t do.” He sighs loudly. “They’re requesting you.”

“But I don’t-“

“I. Don’t. Care.” He points at you in much the same fashion as Cherry before him. “Your job is what our guests want you to do. So go do your job”

Your jaw clicks as you shut it. Cherry is glaring absolute fucking daggers at you from the back room, her sparking red dress nearly matching the shade of her face. You can’t blame her. You’re taking her clients, her paycheck, her survival. It makes you feel a bit monstrous, if you’re honest with yourself. There isn’t any time to focus on that too much as you’re ushered to the private booths. There’s no reason for you to give this up, either. If they want you they want you, and it’s their fault for kicking her to the curb.

It’s your survival too, at the end of the day.

It feels eerie to walk down this corridor again. To stand before that heavy curtain again. Your hands don’t shake this time, though. Even with the added tension from your previous interaction they remain steady.

They’re seated the same as before. Simon’s mask is different - a regular balaclava as opposed to the skull. You realize that his eyebrows and lashes are blonde - so strangely soft for such a harsh looking man. They’re all dressed far more casually, it seems. All the way down to Johnny’s sneakers that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe based on the brand. John has traded his suit coat for a simple one with sherpa lining. Kyle braided his hair since last time.

“Evenin’, Fancy.” John smiles warmly. The way it makes your heart flutter is utterly shameful.

“Hello.” You smile, tilting your head and setting down the tray. Same as before. Rinse and repeat. They ordered liquor this time - bourbon, you think. Maybe scotch. Same difference. “You’ve gotten me into trouble.”

“Have we, now?” John drapes an arm over the back of the booth.

“Cherry isn’t exactly happy.” You fake pout as you hand out the glasses. “Thinks I did something salacious to steal you away.”

“How do you know you didn’t?” John gives you a once over. Blue eyes dragging down every curve and angle of your body.

“I suppose I don’t.” You sigh. “Nothing in my right mind, though.”

“Sorry about that, love. It’s for your own good.”

“Right.” The only thing more powerful than plausible deniability is actual deniability. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Can get yer pretty little arse over here.” Johnny grabs you by the waist, setting you down in his lap. You gasp at the sudden motion, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders for balance.

“I think ‘little’ is a bit of a misnomer, there, hun.” You snicker.

“Aye, as it should be.” His hand wanders to pinch your hip.

“You’re a dog, Mr. MacTavish.”

“Och, ye wound me, lass.”

You glance over at Simon briefly, eyes meeting his. He tilts his head forward. Those dark eyes hold no less intensity than before. They take you in like they want to eat you whole. He probably does.

John must signal him - a nod or a curl of finger - because you’re being passed into the center of the booth again and set right up at John’s side. Vampire covens are simple things. Strong hierarchies that are rarely challenged unless a leader falls or fails spectacularly.

Top dog gets the chew toy.

“I like the change of attire.” You smile, tugging at the soft sherpa of his coat.

“Suits not your style?”

“They’re nice… I see so many of them, though.” You lean into his side, letting your head fall back on his shoulder. “Besides, this fits you better, I think. Matches the beard.”

You let your hand venture up to trace along his jaw, reveling in the gentle scratch of his beard. It’s pleasant. Well cared for. You briefly wonder what his budget for beard products is. He leans into the touch. You’ve always wondered how you to feel to them. Is it a gentle warmth or a scorching flame? Either way, they never seem to mind.

“You boys planning on talking business tonight?” You tilt your head.

“Ah, not tonight.” He chuckles, taking your hand and pressing a light kiss to the back of it. “Tonight is purely about rest and relaxation. Need it after the week we’ve had.”

Somehow the other three manage to melt into the background. You might not know much - if anything - about him, but John Price is the type of man to fill a room all on his own. You felt that the first time you saw him.

“I can certainly help with that.” You grin, letting your hand trail up his thigh. You move slowly, waiting to see how he reacts, and go to hook a leg across his lap to straddle him.

To your surprise, he just grabs your waist and sets you back into your seat. “Don’t need to do all that, luv. Just talk with us.”

Part of you wants to laugh. There’s no way guys like this are the lonely, chatty type. But then, as you take in his face, you can see the exhaustion in his eyes. Vampires don’t get bags under their eyes or stress lines, but it still shows. Still swirls in their irises so distinctly.

“Wanted to pick your brain about somethin’, actually.” John sighs, taking a slow sip from his drink.

You scoff. “Me?”

“You’re a smart girl.”

“Am I?” You can’t help but laugh. “What, you need help picking out some lingerie for your mistress?”

John rolls his eyes at you. Kyle chuckles behind him. They’re far more quiet than last time. At least, the little bit you remember form last time.

“Our company has had some recent… expansions.” John mulls his words over carefully, which sets of alarm bells in the back of your mind. “We want to take the opportunity to do something for the lower city.”

“Why?” You spit far too honestly - involuntarily dropping the facade of an escort. What are they doing to pull this out of you? Is it compulsion?

Just as John opens his mouth to answer you, a phone rings. Loud and piercing through the tension in the air. Simon sighs loudly and answers, speaking so low you aren’t sure if he’s speaking at all. All eyes are trained on him. Except yours. You look around at the strain in their faces. The dread.

Simon grunts something before hanging up. “We’ve got a problem.”

“What kind of problem?” John demands.

“The kind we can’t leave til’ tomorrow.”

There’s a collective groan throughout the room. Johnny looks like he wants to smash the closest thing he could find.

“Fuckin’ hell…Sorry, darling. Looks like we’ll have to resume this another time.” John sighs loudly and takes your hand to help pull you from the booth. He pauses with you off to the side - glancing over his shoulder and nodding to the others as they pass through the curtain before turning back to you. “Can I trouble you for a kiss at least? To tide me over?”

“Always.” Once again, the response is far too automatic for your liking. Then again, there are worse things than happily kissing a good looking man. Even if he is what he is.

John chuckles. It’s low and rich and causes you to lean forward despite yourself. Sometimes you forget just how alluring they’re built to be. Made to draw you in. An angler fish. John leans forward to meet you, still holding your hand in his. His lips are cool, a little rough but also gentle. There’s a hint of almost desperation in the way he pushes closer before who you can only assume is Simon clears his throat.

“Pay for a full night plus tip - as an apology for leaving so suddenly. Take the rest of the night, dove.” John smiles down at you and presses another tied roll of cash into your palm. “Don’t want my favorite girl having to scrape by for tips after we leave. Bad look, that.”

“T-thanks…” You murmur, keeping your eyes locked on him. Almost afraid to look down at the amount in your hand. There’s a heft to it that you both appreciate and are terrified of.

John pats your hand and leans forward to place a rather chaste kiss on your cheek before disappearing out the curtain just like that first time.

You’re not sure how much more unbridled tenderness you can handle.

~~~

It’s not even a full week before they’re back. This time, it’s just Kyle and Johnny who greet you on the other side of the curtain. That fact should relax you - not having to focus your attention on so many men should make it easier. Instead, it feels foreboding after the way they left last time. It makes your shoulders tense.

Why are you worried about John? A little voice in the back of your head questions. Why are you worried about a fucking vamp?

“Hello.” You murmur, setting the usual tray on the table seemingly in slow motion. “Just the two of you today?”

“Don’t sound so disappointed.” Kyle grins. “We’re more than enough company.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You hum, passing out their drinks and sliding into the curved booth to get between them.

“Nothing to cure a shit week like blowin’ off a little steam with a pretty woman.” Kyle tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his other hand coming to rest on your thigh. Dogs without their leashes.

You hum. “Work got you down? You had that ‘problem’ last time.”

“Och, aye. Been a right bitch lately.” Johnny groans, tilting his head back and slinging an arm around your shoulders on the back of the booth. “At least we got that one bit sorted.”

“It was your own damn fault.” Kyle scoffs at him.

“Oi. Maybe if you payed attention to who-“

Kyle grabs Johnny’s lips, pinching them shut. “Price said not in front of the girl.”

You glance between them. The last thing you need is to be sat in the middle of a vampire brawl. Goodbye mortal plane if so.

That seems to be enough to get Johnny to drop it, opting to throw back his drink in one fell swoop and scoot in closer to you, strong arm looping around your waist.

Kyle’s hands trace down over your shoulders. “You’re a fuckin’ luxury, baby girl.”

“Can I have a kiss, hen?” Johnny leans close, fingers tracing your jaw.

Your lip quirks up. “Can you afford a kiss? Seeing as I’m such a luxury, apparently.”

It’s Kyle who moves next - pulling you fully into his lap and pushing you further into Johnny. “We can afford much more than that, love.”

The tip of a fang grazes your neck. It’s slow, gentile, not nearly enough to break the skin. Not quite a threat.

A promise.

It’s barely a hair of movement. A slight tilt, a minute lean and your lips press against Johnny’s. His lips are cold but softer than you expected. Your hands find his shoulders, his tongue darts across your lower lip and you part for him. A well memorized dance. Kyle’s hands drag up your hips to rest on your waist, holding you in place between them.

“D’you have any idea how good you smell?” Kyle murmurs in your ear.

“Or taste.” Johnny sighs into your lips. You pull back, snickering and wiping your lipstick off his lips. He has the prettiest, dopiest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Come home with us?” Kyle asks, lips grazing the shell of your ear. “We’ll take such good care of you.”

“You just got here.” You murmur.

“An’ now we’re askin’ if ye’d like tae come home with us.” Johnny grins.

You tilt your head back, debating on how to ask about pay. It’s a question that needs to be asked, but a sensitive one at the same time. You don’t want to offend, but you don’t want to end up walking away from their home empty handed. Just as you go to open your mouth and subtly talk rates, you’re cut off.

“How’s 5k sound, lovie?” Kyle murmurs. Are they fucking mind readers?

You pray they don’t notice the way you choke briefly, body tensing for a fraction of a second. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit! That’s more than twice what you make in month.

“I’ll take that bewildered stare as a yes.” He laughs, moving a hand from your waist to knead at your hip.

They call a car. You don’t have to explain where you’re going to anyone - being pressed between them is enough. It used to be a little shameful for you to walk out on a man’s arm for the whole club to see. When you were young and not quite so resigned to the state of the world - when you hadn’t quite realized that the only god you should care for is green and made of paper. These days you couldn’t care less. They all know, and they’re all taking part in the same debauchery (or jealous that they can’t afford to.) It’s all goods and services, at the end of the day.

Johnny wastes no time pulling you into his lap as soon as you climb into the car - a massive, black SUV that still smells brand new. At least the seats are soft on your knees as you hover over his lap.

“No, no, full weight on me, bonnie.” He grabs your hips and pushes you to sit on his thighs. “Tha’s it.”

His hand disappears under your skirt, two fingers tracing up your sex through the thin cloth of your underwear. Messily grinding while placing sloppy, open mouth kisses along your neck and shoulder. You gasp and whine as he presses against your clit. Just enough to tease, always moving away before you can properly grind down on him. Fucking tease. Kyle watches with an appreciative grin lazily spread across his face.

Your eyes widen to saucers as you pull up to the building. One of the biggest residential skyscrapers in the city. A glowing paragon. One of only five you can see at all times from any part of the city. You’re pretty sure, if you could get to the top, that you would be able to point out your apartment. If you could see it through the smog, that is.

Kyle pins you to the wall of the elevator, lips intertwined with yours and a hand twisted in your hair. Yours knot into the material of his coat. He tastes like liquor and something you can’t quite place. Something sweeter than candy and far more satisfying.

You glance over his shoulder at Johnny just as the man readjusts his pants. He grins, keeping his hand there to palm himself as soon as he catches your eye.

Cheeky bastard.

The elevator stops so gently you might have missed it if not for the dinging and the doors parting. Kyle pulls you out into a small foyer while Johnny fumbles for a keycard.

You think you might have a heart attack when they slip you through one of the two massive front doors. It has to take up the entire floor - or at least most of it. There’s a whole pool on the right side of the balcony. An area that looks like a greenhouse mirrors it to the left. Floor to ceiling windows allow you to see the faux stars so clearly up here.

“Do you all live here?” You ask quietly, staring around the massive penthouse.

The decor is simple. Dark, heavy woods and expensive, rich toned fabrics. It doesn’t have that sterile air that so many vampire homes have. It looks lived in. Used. Even with the obviously untouched kitchen. To this day you don’t understand why vampire homes have them at all. A formality, you suppose.

Johnny nods. “Och, aye, but John and Si are… workin’.”

You decide it’s probably smartest not to pry into whatever “work” means. “So, the mice will play while the cats are away?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Kyle nods, a little smirk playing across his face.

You glance away, debating on asking a possibly invasive question. You can’t ever be too careful with the hierarchy of covens. “And John doesn’t mind you… having me first?”

They blink at you for a moment before bursting out laughing. Your face heats. It makes you feel childish, as if you asked a stupid question. It’s not a stupid question. It’s perfectly valid! At least thats what you’ve heard from other working girls…

“Oh, no, doll. He doesn’t care.” Kyle grins and hooks an arm around your shoulders.

“Might be a bit miffed he wasnae here tae join in on the fun but he’s not jealous like tha’.” Johnny mimics him with an arm around your waist as they pull you to the side.

The two exchange a look briefly with grins plastered across their faces before turning you to the right and leading you down a short hallway. A large, wooden door opens into a bedroom that could swallow your apartment whole. The decor is a bit chaotic - clothes lay across the floor leading to the bathroom and two walls are covered from the floor to halfway up with drawings and paintings.

You know what you’re here for but you can’t help wandering over to them and staring. They’re so intricate. Every detail rendered perfectly. Some are from the city, others are from far away places you aren’t sure exist anymore. A few portraits of the boys here and there and some other people you don’t know. A sketch of a man with scars littering his strong face catches your eye.

“Whose are these?” You ask in a hushed whisper, as if speaking too loudly will disrupt them.

“Ah, mine.” Johnny saunters up behind you, hands resting on your broad hips.

“They’re beautiful…” You’ve only seen art like this in the museums you visited in school.

“Could do one of ye. Ye’d make a bonnie portrait.” He murmurs, pressing his cheek to yours.

Your gut reaction is to say yes. Is that how you want to be remembered, though? Just another face only immortalized on some creature’s wall. A nameless face from eras gone by. Would he write your name down? Would they remember you in a hundred years? In fifty years? In ten, even?

You settle on a gentle “Maybe.”

Johnny takes the hint, turning you toward the bed where Kyle is already leaned. “Gonnae tear a hole in my damn pants if we donnae get a move on.”

The bed is huge, to say the least. Circular and outfitted with layers upon layers of soft pillows and probably the highest thread count sheets you’ve ever seen. It’s unmade, the comforter falling halfway off one side of it. Not that you need it for what’s to come.

Johnny kneels behind you as soon as you step between Kyle’s legs where he’s sat on the bed. Deft hands unbuckle the straps of your heels. Little nips and kisses trail up your thighs. Kyle reaches around you and presses his lips to yours - so softly - before carefully pulling down the zipper of your dress.

It’s so easy to let them take charge. To be a doll for them to do as they please. There are worse things in life than being delicately undressed by two handsome (and well paying) men. Their hands are far more gentle than you expected while they strip you, muttering little appreciative hums and compliments so low that you almost miss them. You stand bare before them, letting them take you in. Hands and eyes roaming. Johnny presses a sweet kiss to your cunt before standing, sending a little jolt up your spine.

He grins like he won some game you didn’t even know you were playing.

You turn to carefully peel off Johnny’s shirt. Your lip catches in your teeth as you run your hands over hard muscle and through a layer of thick, downy hair that leads to the waistband of his pants. So distracted by the sight before you that you don’t notice Kyle pressing against your back, locking you between them as they kiss above you. A shiver runs through you as you watch their jaws flex and hands grapple for one another.

Fucking Christ.

Sometimes you forget how good it is to fuck people you’re actually attracted to. Even if they are paying customers the same as the rest.

An unceremonious squeak escapes you when you’re suddenly flung onto the bed. Not hard enough to hurt but enough to bounce until Johnny appears on top of you, fingers pinching at the soft fat on your sides and laving at your neck with a cool tongue. He keeps his teeth out of the way as he moves down your body to take your nipple between his lips. Much appreciated.

“Need a taste, bonnie. Ye smell so good. So sweet.” Johnny whines, kneeling between your legs. You watch him lower himself slowly as Kyle slots in behind you, shirt long forgone and hands tracing up your sides to knead at your breasts.

As much as you want to pout at not getting to see Kyle undress, you can’t focus on much other than Johnny’s mouth diving into you. Your instinct is to close your legs at the sudden onslaught, but Johnny’s hands keep them solidly in place - spread wide and hooked around his arms.

“Fuck.” You gasp, head tilting back onto Kyle’s shoulder. Your hand wanders down, carding through Johnny’s mo-hawk. He places a harsh suck to your clit and your fingers tighten around the hair at the base of his neck involuntarily pushing him further into you.

You expect him to be upset, for a brief moment, that you’ve been too rough with him. Took too much charge. Instead he just keens desperately against you, picking up the pace - devouring you like a man starved.

“C-Christ, Johnny!” You gasp, fingers digging further into his scalp and the sheets.

“He likes it when you’re mean t’him.” Kyle murmurs in your ear. “Got him fuckin’ pussy drunk already.”

You roll your hips down onto his tongue as he flattens it against you, grinding his face into your pussy. He shifts, never breaking contact, and slips two thick fingers inside you. You whine, eyes screwed shut as you ride it out. Kyle grabs your chin, tilting you back into a kiss. All it takes is Johnny curling his fingers to send you toppling over the edge, back arching sharply.

Johnny rears back onto his haunches just as you peel your eyes back open, chin slick and shiny. His hands desperately pull at his belt and fly. “Cannae take it anymore.”

Kyle chuckles, smiling down at you. “You’d think after two centuries he’d learn a little patience.”

You smile back, quip dying in your throat as Johnny grinds his uncut cock between your folds - coating it in your slick. Fuck, he’s thick - punching every bit of air in your lungs as he pushes in.

“So fuckin’ warm.” He moans, brow furrowed and lips parted.

Lord help you, he’s beautiful. Even beyond that statuesque perfection all vampires have, he must have been gorgeous in life. Kyle is too, you realize as you tilt your head back to kiss him. You wonder what they would look like with ruddy cheeks - with faces warm as yours is. If Johnny would blush all the way down to his chest. If they tanned. Burnt. Freckled. Ran warm or cold. All the little differences that come with a beating heart.

All thoughts disappear at once as Johnny rolls his hips into you. You gasp, “Please.”

That’s all he needs, apparently, setting a brutal pace off the bat. Pushing you back into Kyle with every thrust with enough force that your teeth nearly knock together. Kyle’s fingers continue to pluck at your nipples. You can feel his still clothed cock pressing against your back, hips twitching at the brief friction.

“Fuck. Alright.” Kyle grunts, moving from behind you - leaving you flopping back on the bed with your hands fisting the sheets. You can hear his belt coming undone but can’t bring yourself to focus on it with Johnny relentlessly pumping into you. That is until Kyle taps the head of his cock against your lips, kneeling beside you.

He’s pretty. Not as thick as Johnny but perfectly proportioned. He doesn’t even have to ask or press forward, you want it between your lips. Seek it out. It’s cool on your tongue, calming under the relentlessness that is Johnny.

“Been tae long since we had somethin’ so nice an’ soft in our bed.” Johnny whines. As if that fact genuinely pains him.

Kyle hums in agreement, taking his time fucking into your mouth. “That it has.”

He reaches over to grab Johnny by the back of the neck, pulling him until their lips crash together. Johnny’s hands tighten where they hold you and Kyle’s pace picks up.

“Fuck, she likes tha’.” Johnny pulls back just enough to speak. “Clenchin’ down on me.”

All you can manage is a whine in response - body on fire. Every nerve feels like it’s pulsing, the whole of you utterly consumed by them. Johnny lifts your hips off the bed, arching your back so that he can fuck up into you. The new angle leaves you desperately moaning. Practically singing around Kyle’s cock as your climax hits you like a train. Rocking through you and tensing every muscle.

“Thassit, love, doin’ so good f’us.” Kyle cards his fingers through your hair. It’s strangely gentle, considering the way his cock now bullies the back of your throat while Johnny’s ruts against your g-spot. “How’s she feel, Johnny?”

The man in question just babbles incoherently, fingers digging into your wide hips enough that they’ll surely bruise. At least he’s aware enough not to crush you entirely. Kyle chuckles at him, the sound cutting off in a moan as you angle to take him deeper and wrap your hand around the length you can’t take.

“G-gonnae cum.” Johnny stutters, rhythm faltering and becoming more shallow as he approaches the edge. He pulls out with a choked groan, fucking his fist as he spills onto your thigh.

Kyle mercifully pulls away, letting you gasp for air. Your voice will be raw tomorrow, but fuck if it isn’t worth it when you’re getting fucked like that.

Johnny sighs, collapsing on his back. “Gi’ me a minute…”

“Gettin’ old, Johnny?” Kyle quips.

“Feck off.” He grunts, turning to look at you as you catch your breath. You can’t quite interpret the look in his eyes - whatever it may be - before Kyle is lifting you up at the waist.

“C’mere, love.” Kyle pulls you, sitting back on his haunches and turning your back to him. Your legs tremble uselessly, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he moves you into place. He doesn’t waste time sitting you on his cock. Kyle isn’t as rough as Johnny, taking his time with lifting off and dropping you onto his cock. A slow motion of your hips while his hands squeeze the soft layer over your waist.

“Fuck, Kyle…” You sigh, head lolling against his shoulder.

“Y’like that, baby?” He murmurs, kissing up your shoulder and neck. One hand moves from your waist to travel up the valley of your breasts. It doesn’t quite wrap around your throat, just rests at the base of it - index finger hooking into your necklace.

It’s a leisurely roll of your hips against each other. A break from the brutal pace before. He’s not desperate like Johnny - instead taking his time whispering sweet nothings and dirty words into your ear. Movements slow and easy.

You think, for a moment, that this is the closest you’ve ever been to “making love.”

Then again, maybe you’re just cock drunk.

You don’t notice Johnny getting up until he’s in front of you, hands on your thighs and lips crashing against yours. Already hard and leaking again after only a handful of minutes. Even for a vampire, that’s pretty damn impressive.

“Bonnie, please.” He moans into your mouth. Cool hands take yours and wrap them around his cock, setting a rhythm to match Kyle’s thrusts into you. “Yer fuckin’ perfect.”

It’s overwhelming. Kyle’s hands roam over your body as you bounce on his cock, draping himself over your back and nipping at your ear. Johnny’s tongue continues to explore every part of your mouth as he thrusts desperately into your hands. His fingers slip down to your clit, moving in leisurely circles that have you bucking forward into him.

“Gonna cum f’me, pretty girl?” Kyle groans into your ear. “Chokin’ my fuckin’, cock.”

You whine against Johnny’s lips, eyes screwed shut. He’s close again, pace quickening. His fingers roughly grind against your over sensitive clit. Someone is chanting, begging, and it takes longer than it should to realize it’s you. “Please, please, just - fuck - I can’t - fucking Christ-“

“Thassit, thassit, fuckin’ hell look at y’two.” Kyle pants, bottoming out with every thrust.

You cum with a choked cry, falling forward against Johnny as he coats your hands and moans. Kyle isn’t far behind, painting your back with a pretty, low groan and a jumble of praises for you and Johnny alike.

Your body feels like jelly, limbs trembling and weight leaned entirely against Johnny. He coos at you and soothes down your hair. A strong arm wraps around your shoulders to steady you. Kyle comes back with a warm rag - when he left, you’re not sure - gently wiping you down with a an unfamiliar level of care.

“I can do it.” You reach for the cloth.

“No, no, love.” He says gently, taking your hands and carefully cleaning them off with precision. He stops to rub the back of your hand with his thumb, something unreadable and warm behind his eyes.

“Drink this.” Johnny holds out a glass to you. When did he even get that?

“Tap water?” You frown slightly, looking him up and down.

“What’s wrong with tap?” He snorts. Oh. Right. Upper city.

“Thanks.” You murmur, chugging it greedily. The physical exhaustion begins to creep up your bones, your legs already practically useless. Keeping up with vampires is a young man’s game and you’re just starting to see the signs of aging out. “I better g-“

“Better lay down.” Kyle cuts you off, taking the glass and pushing your shoulders to lay flat on the bed.

You chew your lip. You don’t usually stay at client’s homes overnight. Then again… the sheets seem to envelope you in a cool cocoon. Calming on your too-hot skin and tired muscles. Muscles that do not want to walk all the way to the train depot. Besides, Johnny and Kyle have been so nice. If they want you to spend then night then what’s the harm, right? You’ll just sneak out in the morning.

So, you let them crawl into the bed bracketing you on either side. Johnny’s arm slings over your waist, cool breath puffing against the back of your neck. Kyle lays in front of you, placing small kisses across your face before pulling the comforter over the three of you.

There are worse fates than sleeping with two handsome men on high thread count sheets for a night…

You wake shivering violently. Between the cold air and Johnny and Kyle’s cool skin you feel like an icicle. Your throat burns and you croak out a groan as you try to sit up. Kyle was rougher than you’d realized in the moment. Johnny has your back pinned against his chest with a strong arm thrown around your waist, not even breathing. It’s so easy to forget that they don’t have to. Kyle truly looks like a statue like this. Entirely still, solid as marble and just as perfect.

You sigh, quietly and carefully wiggling your way off the bed. You don’t pay attention to whose clothes you grab - some tshirt that’s more fitted than you’d like but covers enough to get the job done. You hiss at the slight creak of the door. Neither Johnny nor Kyle stir. If they woke up, they don’t react to you padding out to the main house.

That first door across the hall is slightly ajar, a low stream of cool toned light pooling in the floor just below it. Against your better judgement, you stop, looking around before peeking inside. Not that you can make out much other than a large bed with a dark canopy pulled closed around it. The rest of the room looks barren - the only source of light coming from what you assume to be an attached bathroom.

“Lookin’ f’somethin’?” A baritone voice grunts behind you. You squeak quietly, whirling on your heel and coming face to face with Simon. Well, face to chest considering his sheer height.

“Sorry!” You croak, voice still hoarse. “I didn’t mean- I-“

“S’fine.” The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement. You hope it’s amusement, at least. “Need somethin’?”

“J-just getting some water.. sorry to bother you-“ You begin backing away, giving him a wide birth as you step toward the kitchen. Even without inhuman strength you fully believe this man could snap you in two.

“Come on, then.” He nods toward the kitchen, stepping in front of you. You nearly protest, but opt to just follow. He already caught you snooping at best - at worst he thinks you were planning to steal. If letting him accompany you keeps you alive and out of trouble with them then you’ll gladly trail behind this behemoth of a man.

You pause by the kitchen island as Simon goes to grab… a mug? You watch him fill an electric kettle and flick it on, digging through the cabinet to produce a small packet. A tea bag labeled Honey Vanilla Chamomile.

“Y-you don’t have to-“

“How’d our boys treat you?” Simon asks as he opens the little packet with deft fingers - oddly precise for the size of them.

“Good.” You blurt, hands wringing as you shift your weight side to side.

“Johnny behave himself?”

“The picture of civility.” You snort. If leaving bruises on your hips from fucking you six ways to Sunday counts as civil.

Simon chuckles but doesn’t say anything else. Just puts together a little mug of tea for you, stirring and steeping perfectly before pushing the thing across the counter. You take it slowly, eyeing him. Waiting for some sort of tell that you shouldn’t drink this. Then another shiver runs down your spine and you grab the warm cup happily.

“Should get a heating system put in…” Simon grumbles under his breath, looking around the apartment. You wonder just how much more he can see than you in the near pitch black environment.

“Why?” You snort. “You don’t need it.”

“You do.”

You blink at him rather stupidly - brain too tired and muddled to make sense of whatever that might mean. Probably just means humans in general. They probably have plenty of women and men over on a regular basis. Even if it is just for the night. Oddly considerate, either way.

“What’s the deal with the mask?” You blurt again, the slight lapse of silence putting you on edge.

Simon just shakes his head. “To ‘ide my face.”

“Booooring!” You boo, throwing out a dramatic thumbs down. To your surprise, you’re not met with annoyance. Just a deep chuckle and another shake of his head. “Thanks for the tea.”

Simon nods and snags the now empty mug from you. You chugged it far faster than you realized. It worked, too. Your voice isn’t as hoarse and your throat doesn’t sting when you swallow.

“I should probably…” You murmur, looking back toward the room where Johnny and Kyle are assumably still sleeping away.

Simon grunts in agreement, following you back to his own door. You don’t know what possesses you to stop beside him. To turn and meet his gaze with far less confidence than you’re used to wielding. You owe him for the tea, though.

“Do you want…uh…” You murmur, glancing into the room behind him.

Simon looks from you to the bed behind him - only to turn back with those smile lines forming in the corners of his eyes once again. “Not tonight, pretty girl. You’ve ‘ad enough.”

You jump involuntarily when his large hand cups your cheek - thumb caressing ever to gently over your cheekbone. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, maybe it’s the fact that non-sexual touches are so rare in your life, but either way you find yourself tilting into it. Just a little.

“Sleep well, sweet’eart.” With that he steps into his room, shutting the door with near deathly silence behind him.

Oh.

Okay.

You stare at his closed door for a few seconds too long, a slight furrow in your brow before turning back to Johnny’s room. The two of them haven’t moved much since you left, though Johnny has somehow ended up spread eagle across most of the bed. With some gentle maneuvering you manage to curl up in the crook of his outstretched arm with your head on his chest and back pressed against Kyle’s.

These men are going to be the death of you.

A/N: I wanted to put more into this chapter but I had to draw the line somewhere so it’s going to just have to get pushed to the next one.

Part of me was worried they’re fucking too early but then I remembered I can do what I want🫡

[dreamwritesimagines]

Sunshine [8] - Scorching

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: The morning after can be peaceful.

Word Count: 4244

CW: Explicit language, mentions of sex, drinking, adult themes MDNI

Series Masterlist

There was a reason why you kept telling everyone you couldn’t do casual. You had tried it numerous times, and every single time you ended up getting attached but this?

With Logan?

This was a whole different level.

When the alarm pulled you out of the deep haze of sleep, it took you a couple of seconds to be able to even lift your arm to grab your phone. Your whole body felt sore in the most pleasant way as you pulled back from the warmth and rolled to your side to check the time on the screen before hitting snooze, and while you were more than ready to fall back to sleep, the urge disappeared immediately the moment you heard Logan’s groan.

It was almost insane how you were still hungry for him. The dawn was breaking by the time you had fallen asleep -to be honest, you were quite sure you had passed out- but as soon as you turned around and your eyes fell on him, the spark of the familiar fire of desire shot through you, making your lips curl into a smile. He ran a hand over his eyes as if trying to get rid of any trace of sleep before he lowered his hand to smirk at you.

“Morning,” you said softly and he pulled you closer to himself and cupped your cheek to brush his lips against yours, coaxing a sigh out of you.

“Hi sweetheart.”

You could feel your heart skipping a beat at his morning voice and you rested your chin on his chest, fiddling with the dog tags hanging from the chain around his neck as he brushed his knuckles against your cheekbone.

“Feeling okay?”

“More than okay,” you said and thought for a moment. “I’ll have to ask if Jamie knows someone who can teach me how to walk again but zero regrets.”

A chuckle vibrated deep in his chest and you beamed at him, turning the tags in your hand. He ran his fingertips up and down your spine, awakening goosebumps on your skin and you pecked him on the lips but the moment you pulled away, he pulled you back so that he could kiss you again. He rolled over so that he could get on top of you, making you let out a happy squeal before the loud alarm of your phone went off again and you hit snooze once more.

“Call in sick,” Logan murmured and you tried to focus, scratching at the nape of his neck softly but before you could say anything, his phone started vibrating somewhere on the floor-you were guessing in his jean pockets. He dropped his head to the croak of your neck, making you giggle.

“Aren’t you gonna get that?”

“Nope.”

“But it could be important.”

You could almost feel his smirk. “I swear to you, nothing is more important than this.”

“Someone could be dying!”

“They should find a doctor then.”

“Logan!” you exclaimed, pushing at his broad shoulders and he lifted his head with a sigh, then grabbed his phone off the floor with a sigh. You toyed with the tags swinging above your face as he looked down at you with a fond light in his eyes before dipping his head to give you a small kiss on the lips, then answered the phone.

“What do you want?”

Your jaw dropped as you squeezed at his hand beside your head.

“Be nice!”

He shook his head slightly, his brows pulling into a frown.

“Find someone else,” he told the person on the other line and rolled his eyes. “I’m not at the mansion right now Scott, I can’t go up to the roof—” he stopped talking as Scott said something you couldn’t hear, making his frown deepen. “How the fuck do you know where I am?”

You tilted your head to the left while he heaved a furious sigh, then gritted his teeth.

“Just wait there,” he snapped and hung up, a growl rumbling in his chest before he cleared his throat and put the phone down.

“I’m really sorry princess,” he said softly, turning to you. “I…I’m going to kill Scott, but I gotta go.”

The change in his tone almost gave you a whiplash. You knew he was annoyed, if not angry at Scott, but there was no trace of that snappy tone he used with him when he spoke to you; instead his voice was gentle, and held none of that sharp edge it held just a moment ago. You could feel a smile curling your lips and you nodded your head.

“No problem,” you said. “Is everything okay?”

“He brought the jet here.”

You blinked a couple of times. “Sorry?”

“Yeah, waiting on the roof right now.”

“This roof?”

“This roof,” he said. “I have no idea how he knew where I was.”

You grabbed his phone and waved it at him. “This maybe?”

A look of realization dawned on his face.

“Right,” he muttered before kissing you on the lips and you giggled, cupping his cheek before pulling back to look up at him.

“Your friends are waiting,” you told him and he heaved a sigh, then pecked you again and got off of you to grab his clothes. You let your eyes roam his naked body hungrily while he put his clothes on but as soon as you rolled over to his side, you felt the significant dip that made you frown before the memory hit you.

You—

Oh.

You had in fact broken the bed last night.

You pulled yourself to the edge of the bed to hang down halfway, trying to see under the bed and you reached down to feel underneath the frame where it had broken but Logan stopped you.

“Don’t, it’ll cut you,” he said and reached down before you felt the unmistakable sound of metal bending into its place.

“Oops,” you said with a giggle and he smirked at you, crouching down to get to your level while you rested your chin on your hand, still on the edge of the bed.

“It should be good for now,” he said. “I’ll fix it when I get back, okay sweetheart?”

You nodded your head, beaming up at him.

“When will you be back?” you asked, your voice soft and he stole a kiss from your lips, his fingers caressing your hair.

“Scott seems to think it’ll take the whole weekend and if we’re not back on Monday, I’ll leave him there and come back.”

“You would never.”

“I might,” he muttered, making you let out a small laugh.

“But seriously, it’s fine,” you insisted. “I’m going to be with Theo whole weekend, it’s not as if we’d be able to see each other until Monday.”

He paused as if he hadn’t considered that before nodding his head.

“Right,” he said. “Of course.”

“See you on Monday then,” you said with a smile and he pecked you on the lips, then pressed a kiss on the top of your bed and straightened his back.

“Be careful, please?”

“Always am,” you said. “And you too.”

He shot you a smirk before walking out of the room and you heard the front door open before it closed again and you heaved a sigh, then rolled onto your back and smiled to yourself. You pressed your fingertips on your lips, then attempted to sit up but your eyes widened as all your muscles protested, and you took a deep breath.

“Moving slow today,” you muttered to yourself. “So worth it.”

                                        *

You’d always liked weekends but ever since Theo had started attending the school for the gifted, weekends was becoming your favorite time of the week. You missed Theo so terribly from Monday to Friday, so every weekend you tried to make sure he was happy to be home. You would take him on picnics, to movies, to wherever he wanted to see and always made sure to cook and bake his favorites so that when he went back to school, he knew he still had a home to go back to whenever he wanted.

So, your weekend with Theo had gone well. You took him to a new exhibition in one of his favorite museums and had a documentary night at home with his favorite snacks, as it was your tradition before he started school.

He was also beyond happy to have Cheeto and Popcorn. He had hugged you and told you that you were the best mom ever, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t make the tears rush to your eyes.

When Monday arrived and you dropped him off to school, you had texted Logan but apparently he still wasn’t back. You could almost hear him grumbling about it even if it was on text, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t a bit disappointed, but you knew you had to go to work anyway so the best-case scenario you would be seeing him in the evening even if he were back.

But apparently, Theo had forgotten his book home so after work, you had to drop by home and drive to his school to drop it off.

“So,” Julie’s voice reached you from the speaker of the phone as you kept your eyes on the road. “Is Mr. Break Your Bed gonna be there?”

“I don’t think so,” you said with a small grin. “I texted him but he hasn’t seen it yet. And either way, he probably won’t be back by the midnight, so…”

“Maybe a midnight visit then?”

“I mean I don’t want to be pushy but…” you trailed off. “I hope so. Can you have withdrawals when it comes to sex? Because I’m pretty sure I’m having withdrawals.”

“It’s barely Monday evening,” she said. “You’re not having withdrawals, you’re just horny.”

“Julie, that night changed me,” you said. “I’m a changed woman now.”

“I’m happy for you but how about we slow down for a moment?”

“I think at some point my soul left my body.”

“I don’t think so.”

“It was floating in space or something.”

“No it wasn’t.”

“I saw myself in an alternate universe and she was also with Logan.”

“That’s not what happened.”

“Julie—”

 “I’m really proud of you for having orgasms but at the risk of sounding like Jamie,” she cut you off. “You need to take a deep breath and calm down for a moment. I don’t care how good he is in bed, let’s keep in mind that he’s still just a guy.”

“I am calm.”

“You’re not calm,” she said. “We’re on family account so I know you listened to Crazy in Love - Fifty Shades of Grey remix on loop all night last night.”

“I was making a trailer for me and Logan in my head.”

“Which doesn’t fall under the category of being calm.”

You took a deep breath, lazily turning the steering wheel.

“You know how much I support you getting laid,” Julie said. “But let’s not put the guy up on a pedestal just because he’s great in bed. Please?”

“I’m not doing that,” you said, your voice coming out way too petulant. “It’s just…you know, I’m happy.”

“And that makes me happy,” she assured you. “I promise you. But I don’t want you to get hurt, so let’s go slow with this whole thing with Logan.”

You nodded your head.

“Yeah I know,” you said as you pulled over, looking up at the mansion. “Gotta go, I’ll call you?”

“Okay!”

“Love you!”

“Love you too sunshine,” she said and hung up, and you grabbed your phone off the holder before stepping out of the car. You knew Logan wasn’t there, but you still felt your heart skipping a happy beat and made your way into the mansion.

Considering it was late in the evening, Theo and the most of the younger students had to have gone to bed, and you didn’t want to wake him up from his sleep just to give him his book. Some of the older students were around so you stopped the closest guy and smiled at him.

“Um, hi.”

His eyes widened as he looked at you, then he looked up at the ceiling as if forcing himself to drag his gaze away.

“Hi miss—ma’am,” he said and you tilted your head.

“Uh, are you okay?”

“Yes ma’am,” he stammered. “I just have been told not to even look at…how—how may I help you?”

“I was wondering where Professor X is,” you said even though you were confused about why he refused to look at you. “I’ll give him Theo’s book, I’m his mom.”

“I know,” he said. “I can give it to him tomorrow if you’d like.”

“Oh that’d be wonderful, thank you!” you said as he took the book from you and you frowned.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Caleb!” someone called out and he turned his head, then nodded.

“I’d better go,” he said. “Uh, see you around—or not! Not see you around, I’ll just…” he waved his hand vaguely before walking away from you in a hurry, and you leaned on your hip.

“Well that was weird,” you muttered to yourself and turned around to make your way through the hallway but as soon as you turned the corner, someone pulled you by the arm, making you let out a squeal before you saw who it was, your heartbeat getting faster in a second.

Logan.

He had to have just stepped out of the shower judging by his wet hair. His hazel eyes was shining with that fond light they always held whenever he looked at you, making your chest feel all warm as a smile curled his lips.

“Hi princess.”

“Hi!” you chirped, smiling wide at him, painfully aware of the heart eyes you were giving him. “You’re back!”

He hummed, dipping his head to pull you into a kiss and you heaved a pleasant sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck when his arm sneaked around your waist to press your body to his.

“I didn’t know you were back,” you said when you pulled back to look up at him and he stroked your cheekbone.

“Arrived like half an hour ago,” he said. “I heard your voice when I stepped out of the shower. What are you doing here?”

“Theo forgot his book,” you said. “I texted you actually, but…”

“My phone died,” he mumbled apologetically and you let out a laugh.

“Why do I get the feeling you and technology don’t get along well?”

The corners of his lips twitched. “Maybe.”

“How was the mission?”

“It was good,” he said. “Missed you though.”

Happiness bloomed in your chest, making you beam at him. “Did you?”

He hummed and stole another kiss from you, entwining his fingers with yours before stepping back and tugging at your hand.

“Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

He shot you a playful smile, making your stomach do a happy flip.

“Well, like I said, I missed you,” he said, pulling you to himself to peck you on the lips again. “And my room is closer than your place.”

                                                   *

Okay.

Well—

Perhaps you weren’t exactly going slow.

Perhaps sex with Logan was making you plan your future cabin in the woods but as long as you kept it to yourself, you figured it was fine.

You had no idea what time you had fallen asleep but when you woke up to your stomach growling, it was still midnight. You looked up at Logan’s sleeping figure before smiling to yourself, and very carefully moved in the bed but as soon as you turned around, Logan threw an arm over your waist to pull you back to him.

“Where are you going?” he muttered into your hair, his voice still sleepy and you let out a giggle, squeezing at his arm.

“Burning energy leads to hunger, strange as it sounds,” you said. “Aren’t you hungry?”

You could hear his smirk; “Nah, I ate.”

A fire spread over your face as you pulled the pillow from under your head to smack it on his arm, making him chuckle.

“Want me to get you something?” he asked and you thought for a moment, then shook your head.

“I don’t know what I want, so I’ll check the kitchen,” you said as you sat up in the bed and grabbed your dress but tilted your head when you saw the broken zipper. You raised your brows and held it up, throwing a look at him over your shoulder and he held up his hands.

“Sorry about that.”

You tilted your head. “You don’t sound very sorry.”

“That’s because I’m not.”

You scrunched up your nose at him, narrowing your eyes.

“I’m so stealing your clothes tomorrow before going to my place,” you told him and grabbed his shirt to put it on, then got up from the bed despite your muscles protesting every single movement. He got up as well and got into his jeans then followed you out of the room.

It was clear that everyone was asleep, the hallway completely dark and empty, and you smiled when Logan threw an arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer. Entwining your fingers with his, you let him lead you to the kitchen downstairs and as soon as you took a step to the fridge, he slapped your butt, making you whirl around with a gasp.

“People are sleeping!” you whispered, pointing a finger at him while trying your hardest not to laugh, then opened the fridge door to see what was inside. You hummed, then took out some bread, butter and cheese and held them up.

“You want some grilled cheese sandwich?”

“Sure,” he said with a soft smile on his face and you nodded, then kicked the fridge door close to make your way to the counter.

“At the risk of sounding arrogant,” you said. “I make a killer grilled cheese sandwich.”

“Yeah?” he asked, coming up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, dipping his head to bury his nose to the crook of your neck. A giggle escaped from your lips as you fidgeted in his arms.

“Logan!”

“You smell so good.”

“I highly doubt that,” you retorted, cutting the cheese. “We’ve been um…busy for hours.”

You could feel his smirk against your skin; “Busy?”

“Stop,” you chided him lightheartedly, your cheeks burning a little as you held up a piece of cheese over your shoulder for him to bite it. You popped the rest into your mouth, then looked around.

“Where’s the pan?”

“It’s—” Logan started, but raised his head to look behind him, making you frown.

“What?”

“You don’t want Theo to know yet, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“He’s awake, coming here,” he muttered, stepping back from you and you frowned but before you could ask anything, you heard the familiar footsteps.

Uh oh.

Any observer would’ve been able to tell what was happening, considering Logan was only in his jeans, and you were in his flannel but Theo was still little and you hadn’t brought anyone home before so you knew he wouldn’t be able to understand. Either way, you fixed your hair hurriedly and threw your shoulders back when Theo appeared at the entrance, rubbing his eyes behind his glasses with his fist, then he lowered his hand to pull his brows together.

“Mommy?”

“Bean!” you said breathlessly and smiled at him. “Hi. Why are you awake?”

Theo blinked a couple of times as if trying to focus, then fixed his glasses, his lips pulled into a pout.

“What are you doing here?”

You exchanged glances with Logan who was leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, then you turned to Theo.

“I brought your book and the car broke down so I decided to spend the night here,” you lied. “You were already asleep when I got here. What are you doing up?”

“I was thirsty,” he said through his pout and Logan filled a glass of water to give it to you so that you could give it to Theo. “Hi Mr. Logan.”

“Hi bub.”

Theo downed the water and gave the glass back to you, then hugged your legs with a small whine. You smiled to yourself and lifted him up for him to wrap his arms and legs around you like a little koala, and leaned his head to your chest with a yawn.

“Want me to carry him to bed?” Logan asked and Theo frowned, then shook his head, holding onto you tighter.

“We get a bit cranky when we’re sleepy,” you whispered to Logan and pressed a kiss on top of Theo’s hair. “It’s fine, right bean?”

Theo nodded quietly.

“His room is—”

“Down the hallway, I know,” you told Logan with a smile. “Be right back.”

You walked out of the kitchen with Theo in your arms, humming an old song that used to put Theo to sleep when he was a baby. He mumbled something in his sleep and you reached the half open door of his room, then pushed it to step in.

Theo having a room to himself wasn’t something you had thought about when you enrolled him but when you came to pick him up at the end of his first week, Professor X had informed you that it was a precaution, after all Theo still didn’t know how to control his very destructive powers so it was both for his safety and the other students’. You could see his books on the table and his animal drawings on the walls, as well as him in a superhero suit. You repressed a smile, then gently put him down on his bed and pulled the covers over him.

“Mommy?”

“Yes my love?” you whispered, stroking over his hair before taking his glasses off to put them on his bedside table. Theo yawned.

“I had a dream about Cheeto and Popcorn.”

“Really?”

“Mm hm,” he said drowsily. “They’re friends right? Best friends?”

You smiled to yourself.

“They are,” you said. “And they love you.”

 Theo hugged his pillow tighter, already half asleep. “Love you mommy.”

“Love you too bean,” you said, pressing a kiss on his forehead before pulling back to see whether he could hear you but he was deep asleep already. You smiled to yourself and heaved a sigh, then made your way back to the kitchen where Logan was already turning the sandwich in the pan on the stove.

“Hottest chef I’ve ever seen,” you joked as you jumped to sit on the counter and he gave you a smile.

“I doubt making grilled sandwich counts as being a chef.”

“It totally does,” you told him and he put it on a plate, then put it in your lap.

“Here.”

“Yay!” you said and took a bite, then closed your eyes. “Ugh, I love bread.”

Logan chuckled, making you open your eyes as you chewed on your bite, then swallowed it.

“You’re great with him, you know?” Logan asked and you pulled your brows together in confusion before the realization dawned on you.

“With Theo?” you asked and let out a small laugh. “Well, comes with the territory.”

“Not at all,” Logan said. “Not every parent is like that.”

A bright smile lit up your face.

“Thank you,” you said. “For saying that. It means more than you know. Half of the time I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Doesn’t look like it,” Logan said. “He’s the happiest kid I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah?” you asked, your smile widening and he nodded.

“Mm hm.”

“Good,” you said. “I mean his happiness is the most important thing for me. Everything else comes secondary to that, even myself which is…not something I thought was possible before.”

That soft light was shining in his eyes again and you took a deep breath, then scrunched up your nose.

“Sorry,” you said as you put down the sandwich in the plate. “This is the part where people get scared.”

He hummed, leaning his hands on either side of you, caging you in, making your heart skip a happy beat and a mischievous smirk curled his lips.

“Do I strike you as a man who gets scared?” he asked and a small giggle climbed up your throat.

“No,” you admitted. “But…”

“But?”

“But I’d get it if you did.”

He shook his head, his hazel gaze locked in yours.

“Not gonna happen.”

You could feel the warmth spreading from your chest to your whole body and you leaned in to press a feathery kiss on his lips.

“Good,” you managed to say. “I happen to like having you around, and your cooking skills aren’t so bad.”

“Oh is that right?”

“Could use some more practice but I figure two hundred years is a bit early to learn and—Logan!” you squealed as he took the plate to put it beside you on the counter, then pulled you to himself, making you slide on the counter, a laugh escaping from you before you covered your mouth.

“People are sleeping!” you reminded him again and he shrugged his shoulders, that irresistible smile curling his lips again.

“Well,” he muttered, leaning down to kiss you again as you wrapped your arms around his neck with a pleasant sigh. “Guess you’re gonna have to be quiet, sweetheart.”

[falling-endlessly]

Boomerang (part 2)

Vox x Female!Ex!Overlord!Reader

Summary: After being faced with a dilemma, Vox tries a new approach to get you back. All hell breaks loose.

<—Part 1 Chapter Index Part 3—>

"You're shitting me right now," Velvette's eye twitched as she stared at the snoring TV demon sprawled across your bed. "For fuck's sake, what am I? A babysitter?"

"At least he's knocked out," you crossed your arms, raising a brow. "You won't have to listen him try and tell you that he lost his hat, only to realize it was on his head the whole time, and then start crying because he forgot he owned such a cool hat."

Velvette smacked her forehead audibly, dragging the hand down her face. "Jesus Christ," she hissed under her breath, before glaring at you in irritation. "You know, none of this would have happened if you hadn't left, right?"

"Vel," you said tiredly, rubbing your temples.

"Do you know how fucking annoying it is to hear him bitch all goddamn day about you?" She growled, waving her hands around aggressively. "I'm this close," she held her fingers a millimeter apart. "To pouring water all over his monitors. This. Close."

"Vel—"

"And then there's Valentino, who's also in a fucking mood. You know what? Forget about the water. I'm going to shoot both of them in the—"

"Velvette!" You raised your voice, making her grit her teeth. "I'm not coming back. He made his choice," you glanced at the demon in question, currently drooling all over your pillow. "It's not my problem anymore."

"Is that what you think?" She snapped, crossing her arms. "That you can just, what, leave your shit in a mess and walk out? Sorry to burst your bubble bitch, but you aren't fucking Cinderella. Things aren't just going to magically work out if you hide from them."

"I'm not hiding—"

"Bullshit!" She growled.

Your jaw set tightly as you both stood in a tense silence, glaring at each other.

After a few seconds, you sighed, shaking your head. "He already knows what he has to do if he wants to fix this," you said firmly. "I'm not going to change my mind."

Velvette pressed her lips together, before letting out an irritated breath. "Always fucking cleaning up everyone else's messes," she muttered angrily under her breath as she roughly hoisted Vox's limp body over her shoulder. "I'm going to kill him. Pathetic piece of shit—keep up a good image my ass."

She was almost out of the window when you called out, "Vel."

Velvette turned to give you an annoyed what now look over her shoulder, scowling impatiently.

"Thanks," you said sincerely.

She didn't answer you, instead turning and vaulting herself out of the window, disappearing from sight.

****

Vox woke up feeling like his screen was being forcibly bent in half. "What the ungodly fuck?" he whimpered, grabbing fistfuls of his sweaty bed sheets as he tried to control his breathing.

His stomach roiled ominously, making him gag. "Nope, nope. Not here," he stumbled out of bed, staggering to his attached bathroom like a desperate zombie and nearly running face first into the wall.

Vox dropped to his knees, flipping open the toilet lid and shooting out an unholy amount of chunks.

"What the—ugh, holy shit!" Velvette coughed from the doorway, shielding her face. "God, that smells worse than that skit when Angel got shat on."

Fuck you, he wanted to say. What the fuck are you doing in my bathroom?

But instead what came out was: "FUghhhuckk!"

Velvette watched him, unimpressed and disgusted. "You're an idiot."

"Not. Helping." Vox growled miserably, screen flickering as he gripped the edges of the toilet bowl.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Velvette jeered unsympathetically. "Who dragged your pathetic drunk ass back here last night? Oh, that's right!" She snapped her fingers in a mock eureka! moment. "I did. How about a little gratitude?"

Vox lifted a weak, trembling hand and flipped her off.

Velvette rolled her eyes. "Ungrateful bitch," she muttered under her breath.

Vox heaved loudly into the toilet, making her cringe. Gross. She grabbed the hand towel off of the rack, before throwing it at his head. It landed on the top of his monitor, hanging off the corner, before he grabbed it and sluggishly wiped his mouth. "I th-think I'm sh-short circuiting," he groaned, gripping his head in pain.

"You'll be fine," Velvette closed her eyes in frustration, but internally her thoughts took a different turn. She hadn't seen Vox this fucked up in ages. Val maybe. But not Vox. He cared way too much about his public image. This erratic behavior was very, very unlike him, and it was starting to become...concerning.

"What happened?" Vox coughed, leaning his monitor weakly against his forearms. The last thing he remembered was the fight with Val, and then—a garden...? The hell?

"Well, apparently, your dumbass thought it was a good idea to pay Y/n a visit—" Vox froze at the sound of your name "—to personally deliver her flowers at three in the morning. Then you cried about your stupid hat, passed out in her room, and she called me to pick you up like an incompetent child. The end."

By the end of her rant, Vox's expression looked even more pained, if that was even possible. "Shitttt," he moaned, curling in on himself. "Fuck. Shit. Fuck."

He looked so pathetic and distraught that Velvette almost felt bad for him. Almost.

For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were Vox's labored breaths and Velvette's judgmental stare. The silence was starting to border on stifling when Vox finally broke it.

"Did she like it?" He asked quietly.

"What?" Velvette scowled, crossing her arms.

"The roses," he continued, making her raise a brow. So he did remember buying the flowers then, she never told him what kind they were. "Did she like them?"

She was about to dismiss it when a sudden memory struck her, making her pause. "She kept them. In a vase on her night stand."

Vox slowly lifted his head, a warmth (not bile this time) blooming in his chest. You kept them. Even though he'd made a fool out of himself and probably ruined your night. And you didn't kick him out, either.

You still care, he realized, with a fragile, growing hope.

And that meant—he had a chance. Not baseless hope this time, an actual, legitimate chance to win you back. A slow, goofy grin started to climb his face.

"What—what the fuck? What's with the idiotic look on your face?" Velvette cringed away, disturbed. Then realization hit her as her eyes rolled skyward. "You're going to do something incredibly stupid, aren't you?"

"Maybe," he grinned, before another bout of nausea hit him, making him retch violently into the bowl.

"Idiot," Velvette reiterated.

****

"Oh, hell no," you heard Vaggie say, making you glance up. The moth demon looked incredibly hostile, spear pointed at whoever was at the door.

Concerned, you lifted from the lounge chair you were seated in, taking a few steps towards them, only for a firm hand to land on your shoulder.

"Toots," Angel Dust laughed nervously, moving to block the scene with his body. "Maybe you should let the others sort this one out, yeah?"

"Angel, I know I don't look like much, but I'm an overlord," you raised a brow, peeling his hand off of your shoulder with ease. "I can probably help."

"Shit! Wait, you're not going to like this," Angel groaned under his breath, but it was too late. You'd already seen him.

Vox caught your eye, a charming smile quirking his mouth. "Hey, doll."

Your fists curled by your sides, eyes flashing dangerously as you started to dematerialize, glowing green code dancing along your skin. You glitched out, growing substantially in stature as your mouth distended horrifically.

"Ohhh shit," Angel cursed, taking cover behind the bar counter.

"What's wrong?" Charlie's confused voice came from the stairwell, only to gasp at your demonic form, glitching horribly as your voice raged like gravelly static. It almost sounded like there was another, deeper voice speaking in tandem with yours.

"Woah!" She bolted to the scene, catching sight of a pale Vox, shocked Vaggie, and gaping Niffty. Husk, Pentious and Angel had done the smart thing and taken cover behind the bar.

"Y/n," she smiled placatingly, raising her hands in a show of non-aggression. "What's going on?"

"Gonna kill him," you spat, making everyone wince. "Can't have one goddamn moment to myself without this fucker appearing like a fucking genital wart—"

��"Hey," Vox laughed nervously. "I'm not here for any of that, I promise. Just—sweetheart—could you maybe not hover over me like that—"

"O-kay Y/n," Charlie stepped between the two of you. "Maybe just calm down, take a few deep breaths, and let's hear him out."

"Charlie, he blew up the hotel two days ago," Vaggie hissed through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, well, so did Pentious," Charlie raised a brow, wincing at said demon's faint protest.

"Pentious blew a hole in the wall," Vaggie argued. "This guy blew up half of the building!"

"Charlie!" Angel yelled, voice strained. "Do something before we all die!"

"Alastor's going to kill him," Niffty said cheerfully.

"I'll kill him first."

"Guys—" Charlie pleaded.

"I'm here for redemption!" Vox's voice cut through the air, making everyone freeze. It even shocked you out of your demonic form, the glowing code disappearing as you shrunk to normal proportions.

"You what?" you snapped.

"I want to...make things right," he glanced at you, making you grit your teeth and turn away. "I'm not here to cause trouble I swear—"

The door slammed in his face, cutting him off.

"Charlie," Alastor grinned, finally pulled from wherever the hell he'd fucked off to in his free time. "Tell me you're not thinking of letting this mongrel stay, are you?"

"What is this?" Vaggie hissed, dropping her head in her hands. "Overlord central?"

Charlie looked down, pursing her lips. "Well, it would be wrong of us to refuse anyone. It is open to everyone, after all."

"Think of Y/n!" Alastor said desperately, smile twitching as he clasped his hands on your shoulders, holding you out like some sort of charity case. You gave him an unimpressed look. "It's obvious he's only here to harass her!"

"And what were you here for again?" Charlie raised a brow. "To see demons trip and tumble down into the fiery pit of failure," she deepened her voice to imitate his, making him let out a screech of radio feedback.

"Look, I appreciate the concern, but I can take care of myself," you said, disgruntled as you shrugged off Alastor's uncomfortably tightening grip. "Charlie, do what you want. But I can't promise I won't kill him."

You were starting to accept the fact that there was nowhere in hell you could possibly go to escape your ex if he didn't wish it. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t put up a fight, though.

"Oh fuck," Angel dragged a hand down in face. He already knew what Charlie was going to decide. "Shoulda fuckin' stayed over with Cherri."

Charlie took a deep breath, and despite everyone's silent pleas, reached for the door handle and twisted it open. Vox perked up, turning towards her attentively.

"Welcome to Hazbin Hotel!" She attempted an awkward, welcoming smile.

****

<—Part 1 Chapter Index Part 3—>

Taglist: @pooplyface1423 @spookysisters @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @neito327 @hxzbinwrites @coleisyn @bababahannah

[hairmetal666]

Steve parks at Eddie's, a plastic wrapped bouquet of roses so purple they're almost black carefully buckled into the passenger seat, and a nervous twist to his stomach. He didn't plan to do this. It's just, he was agonizing about his crush to Robin and she goaded him until it seemed like a great fucking idea to ask Eddie out on Valentine's Day, of all days.

The flowers were an accident. He saw them in the front window of the little flower shop in town, and it felt like fate, like they were practically made for Eddie Munson.

With a deep breath and a gritted teeth, he swings out of the car, flowers in hand. He's doing this, he's got this, he can ask Eddie out.

Music rocks from the trailer, drowning out Steve's knock. They didn't exactly have plans tonight, only they hangout every night since Vecna, so he figured...well, Eddie never said they weren't getting together.

He's a little miffed when his knock isn't answered. Even when the music is up, the walls of the trailer vibrating, Eddie always comes to the door. But the minutes tick by with no response until the annoyance turns to anxiety.

He stretches over, up on tiptoe, craning through the window to see if he can spot Eddie, probably distracted by planning for dnd or working on a song.

The kitchen is deserted, pots steaming on the stove. The two-seater table is covered in one of those paper tablecloths they have at Melvald's for a buck, patterned with bright red hearts. The table is set, two plates, two beers, a candle burning in the center of it all.

God, he's stupid. So stupid, with his nearly black flowers and his silly crush. Of course Eddie already had someone to spend Valentine's Day with.

He stumbles down the stairs, stomach fighting up his throat. The loud music makes so much sense now. He has to leave. He can't stand the thought of Eddie finding him here, letting him down easy; can stand even less seeing him with the date he has over.

Steve almost makes it back to the car before he hears the screen door slam, Eddie's voice calling his name. For a second, he considers ignoring him; for a second, he thinks about jumping in the car and driving off and forgetting this ever happened. But he could never do that to Eddie, not even when the consequence is his own heart.

"Oh, uh. Hey, man," Steve says. He runs his fingers through his hair, swallows. "Didn't mean to interrupt, thought we had plans but I guess they weren't set in stone." He's rambling and he knows it, but can't stop. "I didn't realize you--I'll get out of your hair."

Eddie's eyes flicker from Steve to the flowers clutched in his fist, the wrapping now sweaty and rumpled. "Are those for me?" Eddie asks.

Steve's mouth open and closes a few times, thrown off the track of his monologue and trying to think of a plausible lie. "I--they're--it's--"

There's nothing for it. He has to tell the truth and eat the humiliation. "I saw them today and--They're perfect for you. So, I wanted--" he shakes his head, shoves the bouquet into Eddie's arms. "Happy Valentine's Day. I'll let you get back to your date."

Eddie's face scrunches and it would be cute except for all the way Steve's heart is breaking. "Aren't you my date?"

"What?"

"Steve. We hang out every night. I thought--"

"But. For me--" He splutters. "The table?"

"Harrington, it's Valentine's Day! You bought me flowers!"

"Yeah, cause I was going to ask you out!"

This is what breaks Eddie, and he bursts out into helpless giggles.

"Don't laugh at me, Munson." But he's starting to laugh too.

"I'm sorry! I just--you," and Eddie isn't laughing anymore, he's looking at Steve with clear, shining eyes. "You brought me flowers."

Steve sobers too, hands over the bouquet. "I brought you flowers. You made me dinner."

"Yeah." He glances up at Steve from under his eyelashes. "I made you dinner."

"Sorry for--" He gestures broadly around himself.

Eddie shakes his head, soft smile on his lips. "You're something else, Stevie." The words are so fond they make Steve's heart flip. "Now, come inside before the food gets cold."

Steve walks to do the door, pausing before he climbs the stairs.

"What is it?" Eddie's eyebrows lift.

"Nothing. Just--" Steve licks his lips, notices the way Eddie tracks the movement. "I'm really falling for you, is all."

"No duh," Eddie says with a broad, smitten grin. "You bought me flowers."

[arieslost]

home to you | op81

oscar piastri x fem!reader

summary: oscar does what he should’ve done a long time ago.

word count: 2,978

warnings: healing sunburn right at the beginning, a touch of angst

masterlist — join my tag list here!

this is a PART TWO! read part one here :)

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

Your sunburn is peeling.

Oscar’s been watching you absentmindedly pick at it for the last ten minutes as you recount your day to him. He’s paying attention to what you’re saying, of course, but now he’s worried that you might accidentally hurt yourself.

“Stop doing that,” he says when you pause to catch your breath, reaching for his phone as if he could put his hand through and stop you himself.

“What?” You frown, and then look at your shoulder. “Oh, right. It’s weirdly satisfying though.”

“This is why you can’t go to the beach by yourself.” Oscar sighs. “You never put on enough sunscreen.”

“I know,” you reply quietly.

As much as both of you have tried, neither of you can help the awkward undertones that seep into every silence you share now. Oscar knows you love him, and you know that he doesn’t feel the same way.

You think he doesn’t feel the same way.

When he saw that look on your face that morning in the kitchen, it reminded him of the way he stared at you on prom night. Oscar didn’t get asked to the senior prom, but you did, and you had turned the offer down. Oscar asked you why, and you told him that you only wanted to go with him, otherwise you weren’t going. You’d dragged him back and forth from your table to the dance floor all night long, and it all would’ve faded into the mush of fleeting high school memories if your favorite song hadn’t come on. Oscar remembers every detail of how your eyes lit up, how you cried, “I love this song!” even though he knew you did, and how you’d grabbed his hands and started dancing with a refreshed energy. He felt like time had stopped and his world revolved around you, and it felt right.

So yeah, he knew the moment you gave him that look that not only did he still love you, but you finally, finally felt the same way. And, for the second time, he’d epically fucked it up.

He often wishes that he could go back and confess to you like he wanted to that night. You’d stayed over because you were too tired to drive home. You were both single. It was the perfect time. But now it’s four years later and he’s sitting in the hotel bathroom on the other side of the world, his girlfriend asleep in the hotel bed, and you on the other end of his phone screen picking at your sunburn that he could’ve prevented had he spent more time with you on vacation.

“You doing okay, Osc?” You ask, pulling on a hoodie of his that you stole from him before he left for his very first F1 race. “Aside from the races, I mean. I know you’re doing great with those.”

“Yeah, I’m alright.” The words come out with practiced ease. “I’d rather hear about how you’re doing though.” I miss you like you wouldn’t believe.

“I think I’ve told you everything like five times now,” you giggle. “I could tell you about the guy that came up to me in the grocery store this afternoon and took a painstakingly long time to ask for my number, but that’s not a long story.”

Oscar’s heart stops. “What?” He replies, teeth gritted, before he clears his throat and lightens his tone. “I mean, what?”

“Yeah, it was kind of strange. He started the conversation by asking me how you were doing, obviously, because you’re so cool and famous-” Oscar flips you off when you roll your eyes, and you laugh. “Anyway, I guess that was his icebreaker, because then he just abruptly segued into grilling me right there in the cereal aisle about my life and how he ‘couldn’t believe he’d never seen me before.’” You recount dramatically. “I’m telling you, Osc, it was nonstop cheesy line after cheesy line. I felt so bad for him I let him have my number.”

“So, he used me as an in and then harassed you until you gave him your number?”

You nod slowly. “Pretty much.”

“You better not actually be considering going out with this guy.” Oscar scoffs.

“Oh, no, I’m not!” You rush to clarify, and he can see a faint blush rising on your cheeks. “I mean, it’s not like I’m waiting for anyone-anything. He was just weird. I only gave him my number so he’d leave me alone… I blocked him when he texted me.”

“You’re horrible,” he starts laughing now, relieved that this guy never even stood a chance. “I love it.”

“You’re supposed to be encouraging me to get out there and find a boyfriend, loser. Brush up on the best friend manual.” You complain, pulling the hood over your head and hiding your face from him so he can’t see how much it hurts to think about finding someone that isn’t him.

He doesn’t notice anyway; he’s distracted by the sound of the covers moving and his girlfriend yawning.

You hear it too, and glance up at the camera. “You have to go?”

His heart breaks at how sad you look. “Yeah, sounds like she’s actually waking up this time. Sorry, honey.”

You shrug, and he knows you’re trying to appear unbothered. “It’s okay. We got, what, an hour and a half? That’s a whole extra 45 minutes or so.”

“You’re allowed to tell me how you really feel, y’know.”

“Damn it, Oscar. You just see right through me. I don’t know why I even bother.” You sigh, covering your face with your hands.

“I don’t know why, either,” he attempts to joke. “Look, I-”

“Oscar? Where are you?” His girlfriend calls, and you stiffen up at the sound of her voice.

“Be there in a minute!” He responds, turning his attention back to you. “I’ll call you again as soon as possible, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Bye, honey.”

“Bye, Osc.”

You hang up first.

“I love you,” he whispers to his blank phone screen, and gets up to start his day.

You say it back to your own blank screen and go to sleep.

Oscar comes to the steadfast conclusion that he wants you and only you at his side at his home race, and not as a friend.

Breaking up with his girlfriend still looms over him. He lies awake for way too long at night trying to figure out the nicest way to do it, but his thoughts always end up taking a detour to you and how he wishes it was you sleeping next to him instead.

Despite the struggle going on in his mind, he goes through the motions of PDA with her for all the cameras and other drivers in the paddock to see. Lando is the only one who realizes what his issue is.

“Mate, you have to figure this out.” The older driver said out of the blue as they were lounging in McLaren hospitality after qualifying.

“Huh?” Oscar frowned at him, tearing his eyes away from his texts with you. “I know I fucked up that quali, but it’s not like I can’t improve.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, you muppet.” Lando rolled his eyes, and said your name like it’s obvious. “You just have to break up with the girl you’re with now so you can have the girl you really want.”

“You say that like it’s so simple.” Oscar mumbled, looking at the text from you that had just come in.

Just focus on the race, Osc. Quali’s behind you, it doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll be cheering you on, what could possibly go wrong??

“It is, if you think about it. Besides, you’ve been acting so weird lately she might already think something’s up.”

“Gee, thanks. That makes me feel a lot better.” Oscar groaned, sinking lower into his chair.

“Always here for you, mate.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“I don’t care.”

That enlightening conversation gets Oscar to finally work up the courage to tell his girlfriend those dreaded words following the race– “We need to talk.”

He waits until they’re in the hotel room after dinner to say it so there’s no audience, primarily because he knows that she’s prone to throwing fits when things don’t go her way. The memory of her losing her mind when he took you to breakfast during vacation comes screaming back to him at the speed of light.

She doesn’t say anything at first; instead, she takes her time removing her shoes and taking the pins out of her hair. Oscar can’t stand the silence, so he starts speaking again.

“It’s about-”

“I think I know what this is about.” She interrupts him.

“You do?”

“I’d have to be stupid not to know, Oscar. You’ve been off for the past few days, it’s only with me, and every time I wake up you’re hiding in the bathroom on the phone.” She holds up a hand when he opens his mouth. “I know it’s her, and I’ve known since that vacation. You don’t have to tell me.”

“You’re… you’re not gonna yell?” He can’t hide the surprise in his voice.

“It won’t get me anywhere, will it?”

“It never did.”

She smiles matter-of-factly. “I guess I have to work on that.”

She packs her things without argument. Oscar offers to buy her a plane ticket somewhere, but she waves him off and thanks him anyway before walking out the door.

The Australian Grand Prix is in two weeks. Oscar doesn’t think before he calls you.

“I’m coming home. I need to see you.”

Your heart has been in your throat ever since Oscar called you this morning. He was so hasty that he didn’t even tell you when he was coming, so every little movement you see outside your window has you running to see if it’s him or not.

He doesn’t show up until almost 9:30 at night. You can hear the engine of his car as he flies through your neighborhood with practiced ease and nearly drifts into your driveway. Your stomach is jumping with nerves and excitement; you didn’t think you’d see him for another two weeks, and despite the awkwardness that your feelings have brought to your friendship, you want nothing more than to hug your best friend.

He starts impatiently knocking on the door as you nearly trip down the stairwell in your rush to let him in.

“Hold on!” You shout, fingers shaking as you unlock the door and wrench it open. “Are you trying to break my door?”

“Jokes later, let me hold you,” he says, reaching for you and meeting you in the middle of the doorway as he pulls you into his chest for a tight embrace.

You melt into him immediately, your arms wrapped around his neck and your nose pressed to the warm skin that peeks out of his hoodie. “I can’t believe you’re here,” you mumble, squeezing him.

He shivers, kissing the top of your head. “I’m here, baby.”

I’m sorry, baby. You think about that so much that it shouldn’t hurt anymore. It sobers your mood a little.

“Why, though?” You ask, pulling away a little to look at him. “Don’t you have things to be doing?”

“I may have forced them to clear my schedule by coming home without telling anyone.”

“Oscar!” You exclaim. “Why? You could get in trouble!”

“Can we talk inside?”

“Yeah, of course. C’mon.” You take his hand and lead him into your house.

He takes off his shoes, leaves his suitcase in the hall, and goes to your living room on autopilot, where he flops down on the couch and lets out a long breath. You sit next to him, knees bumping together as you look at him with a reasonable amount of concern. “You’re acting weird. What’s wrong with you?”

“I broke up with her.” He says, rolling his head to the side so he’s looking at you. “So, nothing’s wrong with me.”

“Bullshit, Osc, it seemed to me like you really liked her.”

“You didn’t, though.”

“Who cares what I think?” Your brain fully computes his words. “Wait- actually, no. I’m not even going to act surprised by the fact that you knew that.” You sigh.

“I care what you think. I care about you. A lot.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I don’t think you do.” He sits up straighter now, turning his whole body to face you. “Like, in a romantic way.”

You blink at him a couple times. “No you don’t.”

“I don’t?” He repeats incredulously.

“You can’t. You don’t.” You say. “You’re lying.”

“I’m lying?” He says through a laugh. “You’ve known me your whole life. When have I ever lied to you?”

You press your lips together. The only time he’s ever lied to you is when he planned your surprise parties. “I’m gonna need you to do a really good job explaining yourself, otherwise I’m kicking you out. You can’t do this to me, Oscar, you know how I feel-”

“Yes, I do, and I’d love to explain if you’d stop spiraling for a second.” He interrupts, taking your hands to ground you.

You’re once again having the dilemma of wanting to push him away and pull him closer simultaneously. The pressure of his hands holding yours succeeds in calming you, so you allow it.

“The whole reason I knew how you felt in the first place is because of the way you looked at me in the kitchen. You didn’t notice, but I looked at you the exact same way at the prom.” He says, gauging your reaction by how your face contorts slightly as you try to remember the prom at all, aside from the fleeting memory of forcing him to slow dance with you. “That feeling like time stops? Like-”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” you recall, looking down as he runs his thumbs over your knuckles.

“Right.” He nods. “Look, the bottom line here is that I screwed up by not telling you then, and if I had, we would’ve been dating for years at this point and this conversation wouldn’t even be happening.”

You feel like you look like a fish out of water with how your jaw is opening and closing, searching for something to say in response. “Osc-”

“If this makes you change your mind, I get it.” He continues. “But the whole reason I came here is to tell you that I love you. I’m in love with you and I have been since we were 18.”

You go to muster up something to say in response when he says one more thing. “Oh, and I’m tired of only being able to see you through the phone. That’s the other reason.”

You can’t help it– that, paired with his polite cat smile, his flushed cheeks, and his confession has you dissolving into giggles. That quickly morphs into laughter that sends you leaning so far forward your head is practically in Oscar’s lap, but he doesn’t seem to mind because he’s laughing too.

“I hate you so much,” you gasp out, pushing yourself back up so you can look at him when you tell him the complete and total truth. “I’ve been in love with you since we were 14.”

“Shit, that means I have eight years to make up for, not four.”

“Sucks to suck.” You say, easily falling back into your age-old banter.

“You sound like Lando,” he says, wrinkling his nose. “And I was gonna ask if I could kiss you.”

“Ah, shoot. I ruined it.”

“Hmm, no. I’m gonna ask you anyway.” He shifts closer to you, brushing your hair out of your face with both hands. “Can I kiss you? Please?”

You start nodding before he even finishes asking, maybe too enthusiastically, but it’s Oscar. He knows you. He wants you. You don’t need to be embarrassed.

The press of his lips against yours is soft, gentle. You always thought that if you ever kissed Oscar it might be too weird, but the only thing you feel now is right.

It feels right to thread your fingers into his hair. It feels right to let him tug you closer, closer, closer, until you have no choice but to straddle him so you can be as close as he wants you. It feels right when his hands slip under your shirt and lightly run over the skin of your back, when his tongue meets yours, when you give his hair an experimental tug and he moans into your mouth.

The only thing wrong about it is that you have no choice but to break the kiss in order to breathe, but even then you don’t move far from each other, breaths mixing in the minimal space between you both.

“We could have been doing that for a long time,” Oscar sighs, throwing his head back against the couch.

“We have all the time in the world now that we stopped being idiots and confessed.” You point out.

“D’you think you can come to the race in a couple weeks? We can take it slow with this, no one needs to know… I just want you to be there.” He asks.

“Of course, Osc, are you kidding?” You run your hands over his shoulders and down to where his hands rest on your hips. “Though, if you win, I can’t promise no PDA or anything.”

“I’d expect nothing less from my girlfriend.” You can feel him tense up a little, like he’s expecting you to react negatively, but he relaxes immediately when your smile lights up your whole face and you kiss him again.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips.

“I love you,” you whisper back.

No one else needs to hear it just yet. You only need to tell each other.

note: i sincerely hope this made up for any tears i may have caused with the angst in the first part. this is the first time i’ve ever been inspired to write a part 2, and i think it’s because i desperately needed it to end happily. thank you so much for all the love on falling for you; i never expected it to get as much attention as it did!

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika !

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @niallerswolf @fangirl-dot-com @hood-jabi @vellicora @k-pevensie28 @cami26cami @arian-directioner @vildetry06 @hauntedphotographybookstaco @bigheartsthings @northpizzasposts @notturlover @riv3rbank @gesfjjsl @oliveisunstable @lily1sposts @sadbut-true0 @lilcowboy0 @alltoowelltaylor @kimis-gloves @superheroreader @alexmarie29 @anedpev @lalalaphie @waitingforsmartpeople @arrowenchantress @zillygoose @its-cat-eyes @gxllumsriddles @fionaschicken @mrsgeorgerussell63 @bre013 @lizzypiastri @blldsnjs @samantha-chicago @homosexualjohnwayne @opheliabluewolff @catbat011 @drivelikeiido @what-is-happening-helpp @decafmickey @tania2748 @steviesscoops @annahowardsworld

[leclerced]

sweet dreams

Summary: Oscar getting a lot of head.

Warnings: 18+ minors dni. some degrading language, blow jobs, face fucking. balls briefly in mouth.

Author’s note: hi. here’s this. enjoy. sorry for typos or other mistakes i am tired.

She's been itching for him all day, and he’s been in meetings all day. He was gone before she woke, he didn’t even wake her for a goodbye kiss before he left. She woke hours after he left and found a note on the fridge, morning baby! there’s a pastry on the counter for you, we have a lot of meetings today so i’m not sure when i’ll be home. xx

She plucks the note off the fridge and retreats back to their bedroom, flopping on the bed before grabbing her phone from the nightstand.

osc

baby

when are you gonna be home?

Oscar's phone buzzes in his pocket and he jumps in his seat. After glancing around to check that no one noticed his startling, he slides it out under the table. He feels his stomach flutter at his girlfriend’s contact on the screen and he clicks on the new texts.

morning honey

are you you hungry? i got you a pastry

Her nose scrunches at the mention. He drove all the way to get her breakfast when they could have had a quickie. He's so kind and thoughtful it’s infuriating.

no. i’m horny and you aren’t here.

i wanted your cock in my mouth as soon as i woke up

rolled over, reached for you. and you weren’t there ):

i’m so wet for you right now, i’m literally dripping.

Her left hand drifts between her thighs and she whines at the feeling. she was exaggerating for dramatic effect but she’s not wrong. Her thighs are sticky and she barely has to ghost her fingers through her lips before they’re coated.

The first text comes through right after he hits send. his phone buzzes in his hand and he glances down, nearly choking on the breath he’s taking as the next text comes through, followed by two more in quick succession. his cock twitches in his jeans when he reads the last one and he grits his teeth.

nows not a good time, i’m in a meeting

She rolls her eyes. she knows that, it doesn’t change anything.

when are you going to be home?

i have two more meetings. expected time is 45 each. could be longer or shorter, depending.

A sigh leaves her and her pussy throbs under her fingers. She lifts the coated digits to her lips and pulls them inside, sucking them clean. she can almost pretend they’re oscar’s instead of hers so she leaves them, swirling her tongue around her fingers to try to sate the craving she has for him.

can’t you fake sick? i could suck your cock three times in that time

jesus christ.

you really are horny huh

sorry, ill try to be quick

It’s a pointless claim, there’s nothing he can do to speed it along unless he agrees to everything, and that could end up with more meetings in the future because he gave the wrong input because he was rushing. She bites her finger tips as her thumb fumbles across the keyboard, checking for typos before sending the next string of texts.

do you wanna know what i dreamed about?

i was sucking your cock for eternity

you know that dreamy feeling? where you know you’re gonna be there forever? like it’s heaven?

it was like that, and i was sucking you off. i lost track of how many times you came, but i swallowed it all

honestly impressed with dream me

i think i grew gills because i didn’t have to stop and breathe once

who needs air? not dream me

anyways.. i really wanna suck you off for eternity but that’s not possible so i’ll take as many times as i can get

and the sooner you get home. the more i can suck you off

After a few minutes of no response, she gets bored. It's no fun sexting when they aren’t sexting back. She rolls onto her stomach and presses her cheek into the pillow. She’ll go back to sleep until he’s home, maybe she’ll keep dreaming about his cock and when she wakes up, he’ll be home.

Oscar can hear the blood rushing through him as he reads the texts coming through, the chatter of his bosses and team members around him fading into nothing. His cock throbs in his jeans and he backs out of the chain of messages as soon as he reads, sucking your cock for eternity. He presses it face down in his lap and stifles a groan when it vibrates directly on his cock. He slides it down his thigh then tucks it underneath his leg. It’s muffled between the weight of his thigh and the plush cushion but the vibrations don’t stop tickling the back of his thigh for a minute.

When someone prompts him, he lets out a weak sound and squeezes his eyes shut, “I’m sorry, i was thinking about the brakes last race.” It's the worst excuse he can manage and brings on more questions.

Someone immediately curses, “Was something wrong? Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

He shakes his head quickly, cheeks flaming red, “No! They were good! I was thinking we had a good balance and should keep that in mind and I just got stuck. My brain is kind of mush right now.”

Lando lets out a noise of agreement next to him and he’s suddenly reminded of his teammate’s presence. “Yeah, same. I missed the last five minutes.”

Andrea nods, “Well, I think we can finish this next bit up without you guys. get some sleep, come in with a clear head tomorrow." They both nod thankfully and Oscar takes a look around the room and feels a bit guilty that they’re being let go early because they can’t focus. He sees Lando stretching from the corner of his eye and suddenly can feel the tension in his muscles from sitting in the same office chair all day. Even if it’s cushy and expensive and comfortable as hell, sitting in one position all day kills his body. He does one better and stretches as he stands, reaching above his head and groaning softly as his muscles finally feel some relief they didn’t know they needed.

If he had a tail it’d be wagging. He’d be chasing it around the room. He's never been so relieved to hear those words. He turns to grab his phone from the chair and swipes it up before another text can come through. He's opening the text thread again as he walks out of the mtc, casting a quick glance over his shoulder before he unlocks his phone. Each one feels like a punch to the gut, his mind going thick as he rereads them. He starts typing out a text that he’s coming home, but he erases it. she can wait until he gets home.

She’d barely fallen asleep when she’s harshly woken by someone yanking her to the edge of her bed. A grumble leaves her throat as she tries and fails to pull her legs back up, to curl into herself and fall back asleep. The hold on her ankles is solid though and she gives up after a single pull. There’s not a care in the world about who’s touching her, Oscar almost laughs at the thought. Oscar's voice immediately rouses her, though, when he commands, “Sit up.”

She jolts up, rubbing her eyes and sighing, “Opie, you’re home.” She drops her hands to her lap and looks up at him with glossy eyes. He’s already stripped down to his boxers, she can see the bulge he’s sporting and it makes her mouth water. He looks into her eyes for a moment before glancing down her body, down the little nightgown that was forced up her body when he pulled her down. It slumped back down on her hips when she sat up, but he can still get a peek at her cunt and it’s just as she described. “On your knees. on the ground.” His voice is sharper than usual and it buzzes in her ears, sending a shiver down her spine.

He releases her ankles as she slides off the bed in front of him, clasping her hands behind her back obediently. “Like this?”

He nods, “Just like that. Open your mouth.” She blinks up at him and does so, tilting her head back for him. She’s not sure what he wants, his cock isn’t out yet, so that’s not-

She flinches as a glob of spit lands on her tongue and he says, “Swallow it.'' Without a moment's hesitation, she does so and lets her mouth fall back open to show him it’s gone. He smirks and lets out a huff of air. “You’re fucking filthy. went right back to fucking sleep, did you? Couldn’t have the real thing so you went to your little dream land.”

Her brain is still foggy with sleep but the words float through the clouds like rays of sunshine. She nods up at him, “Thought you weren’t gonna be home for awhile.”

He gives her a soft smile and tuts, “I’m home now, aren’t I? Why don’t you give me a warm welcome?” Oscar pushes his boxers down and kicks them aside, she instinctively reaches and he shakes his head and she freezes, “No touching, unless you need to tap my thigh for me to stop, okay? Keep them behind your back.” She whines at his words but complies, licking her lips before dropping her mouth back open. She's not sure what to expect, but she’s happy to take anything he’ll give her.

Oscar steps closer and curls a hand in her hair, wrapping the other around his cock. He taps it against her tongue, “Show me what you dreamed about.” A contented murmur bubbles up from the back of her throat at the taste of him hitting her taste buds and she flicks her tongue across the head before wrapping her lips around the tip. She swirls her tongue and sucks softly before flattening her tongue and taking more of him into her mouth.

The head of his cock hits the back of her throat and she lets out a noise as she forces her throat to relax so she can take more of him. He pets her head softly as she bobs her head, taking more each time. The soft grunts he’s letting out make her clit throb and if he hadn’t already told her to keep her hands behind her back, she’d be reaching between her legs. Her eyes flutter shut as she moans around him, squeezing her hands into fists to will herself to take more, to take all of him.

“This is what you wanted?” Oscar's voice makes her eyes pop open, low and thick like molasses. She blinks up at him twice. Yes. He licks his lips and lets his head fall back as a moan tumbles out, then drops his head back down. “All day? That’s what you want?” Two more slow blinks. yes again. He cups her face and strokes his thumb over her hollowed cheek as he coos, “I’m gonna fuck your mouth now. Did you dream about that?” She blinks quickly this time, yes, before he even finishes the question. Just before he thrusts, she taps his thigh and pulls off with a gasp.

She presses her forehead to his thigh and he can feel her quick breaths all over it, hot and steamy on his skin. After a moment, she sits back and nods, “Okay, ‘m ready. I just wanted a breather so I could last longer.” Oscar could come just from the fucking words she’s speaking. Pacing herself to suck his cock? Jesus Fucking Christ. He taps his cock against her lips, pressing into the warmth as soon as she parts her lips for him. A shudder runs through him as she sucks on the tip and her eyes flutter shut like she’s enjoying it.

He pushes the hand cupping her cheek back into her hair and curls it into a fist, sighing at the softness between his fingers. his hips jut forward to test the waters and she presses her tongue to his cock as if to urge him. Oscar works his cock into her mouth with slow steady strokes until he’s buried in her throat. He moans as she swallows around him and he pushes further into her mouth. A shiver courses through him when she gasps for air through her nose, cool air hitting the part of cock that hasn’t made it into her mouth yet.

He suddenly pulls out until just the head is inside, she takes the moment to suck on the head before he gives another thrust. “My pretty girl, so eager to suck my cock.” He teases as his cock hits the back of her throat again. She can feel a different fog taking over her brain, much better than the sleepy dreamy fog she’d been in. She’d pinched her own ass when Oscar told her to get on her knees, half convinced this was a hyper realistic dream. No. Her boyfriend really did just come home early minutes after she fell asleep. And now she has what she wants, his cock down her throat, drool down her chin and what will likely become an ache in her jaw.

She blinks her eyes open to look up at oscar as he slowly fucks her throat, not even fully fucking her throat. His head is tossed back and he’s letting out soft moans every few thrusts. She feels like she’s being teased in a way, but she’s not going to, nor can she, complain. She lets her eyes flutter shut again and moans around him, rubbing her tongue against the underside of his cock.

Oscar tells himself not to over do it yet, he doesn’t want her jaw aching or her throat sore this early in the day. Not when he has plans to be in it all day like she wants. He gives another slow thrust and moans, pulling back until just the head remains tucked between her lips. she flutters her eyes open when he doesn’t move. The look in her eyes really does it for him. “Make me cum.” She blinks twice up at the orders and begins bobbing her head again, moaning when she feels his cock throbbing against her tongue. His hand tightens in her hair, his abs contract and his hips jerk forward as his orgasm hits. A string of praises and curses mixed with her name tumble from his lips as she swallows him down until he tugs harshly at her hair. She flops back and leans into the bed, gasping for air.

Out of habit, she raises her hand to wipe the drool from her chin and then feels it down her neck and gives up before she starts, the back of her hand would be no help. Oscar seems to have the same thought process because before she’s even realized what he’s doing, he’s grabbed his shirt from the ground and is crouching in front of her, wiping her clean.

An hour later, she’s had three orgasms and they’ve had a shower. Oscar has her on the edge of the bed with her head hanging off. “You sure this is okay?” She nods eagerly, opening her mouth to agree, but he stops her. “You told me about the dream. I’m convinced. Just triple checking.”

She reaches out to brush one of the freckles on his hips, “I love you for that.” She lets her mouth fall open after the profession and he repeats it back to her as he pushes his cock back into her mouth. It’s different than usual, her tongue is pressed to the top of his cock when normally, on her knees, it’s the underside. It feels a bit neglected now that she’s rubbing her tongue along it as he presses into her throat. A moan punches its way out of his throat when she gags around his cock, he jerks his hips back as an apology.

The hand on his hip squeezes as if to say it’s okay and he presses forward again. Oscar works up a quick pace, marveling at the sight of his cock in her throat. For God’s sake, why hadn’t they done this before? Everything about it is incredible. The feel of her mouth, her throat, the angle, the sight of her naked and spread out on the bed. He should get a mirror to put opposite him so he can fuck her throat and watch her touch herself.

Oscar comes suddenly, hips stuttering as he watches her press her fingers into her pussy, thrusting them a few times then waving them at him teasingly. It’s like she read his fucking mind. He plants a hand next to her shoulder on the mattress as his orgasm rocks through him and his hips jerk into her mouth. She swallows it all, sucking at his cock and petting his hip until he’s suddenly oversensitive and backs away with a grunt. It’s funny watching him stumble back from her upside down angle, bring his hands up to rub his face as he groans, “Fuck. Movie?”

She lets out a raspy giggle and rolls over, “If you carry me.” He steps back towards the bed and she pushes herself up onto her knees and makes grabby hands. Her hands wrap around Oscar's neck as he hooks his hands under her thighs and lifts her up around him, crossing her legs around him. He can feel her slick coating his abdomen as he walks and his cock is already perking up for another go.

They don’t even finish the movie before Oscar pushes her down between his legs for another go, telling her to suck him off while he watches the movie. She’s happy to do it at first, and then he actually goes back to watching the movie and hasn’t looked at her or said anything in the ten minutes since she got her mouth on him. The only sign that he’s even interested in what she’s doing is the way his chest rapidly rises and falls, or his cock occasionally twitches and spills precum into her mouth.

She's determined to make him lose focus. Each time she peeks up at him, he still has his arms folded behind his head, head turned with his cheek pressed to his bicep so he can see the tv. She pulls off his cock and spits on the head to get a reaction out of him, but he doesn’t spare her a glance as she strokes her thumb over the tip and spreads her spit along his length. when he doesn’t react to that, she licks from the base to the head, sucking on the tip when she reaches it. His thighs twitch and she can see his lashes flutter, but he doesn’t look at her or say anything.

She bites back a whine and goes lower, sucking softly on his balls as she strokes his cock. He lets a little noise slip and she continues, taking the rest into her mouth. As soon as she does it, he’s jerking his head down to look at her while a shocked moan falls from his lips. She bats her eyelashes up at him before pulling away, “Why wouldn’t you look at me?”

He squeezes his eyes shut, “Trying not to cum. That did not help.”

She whines and squeezes his thigh with her free hand, “Kinda the point?”

He pops his eyes open, “Not if it takes two minutes.”

She swipes her tongue out over her lower lip and sucks it between her teeth momentarily. “You make me cum in two minutes.”

He shakes his head, “It’s different. You can have a few back to back, I've gotta wait a bit. Plus, I could cum in two minutes anytime with my hand and a photo of you, no offense to your mouth, but that’s my record on you.”

She nibbles on her lower lip, “I think you should cum.” At the same time she says it, she begins flicking her wrist faster.

He juts his hips up, “Thought you were gonna swallow everything?” In lieu of responding, she dips her head back down and wraps her lips around the tip. She swirls her tongue around it twice, goes for a third swirl and he lets out a low moan as his body shudders under her and he spills into her mouth for a third time. She keeps her eyes locked with his as she swallows him down, challenging him to look away from her again. He does as a final spurt of cum coats her tongue, pressing his head back and gasping her name. she pulls away from his cock with a pop and wipes her hand on the throw blanket half wrapped around them.

He’s still twitchy under her as she climbs up his body and presses a kiss to his lips, sucking softly on his lower lip. He sighs against her lips and presses back, pulling a hand from behind his head to cup the back of hers and hold her there as he licks into her mouth. Oscar can’t help but moan when he tastes himself on her, but wants to taste her. “Swap places?” He murmurs into the kiss, sliding his hand down her back and around her thigh for leverage to flip them over on the sofa.

The movie was never finished, they fell asleep shortly after trading orgasms. she wakes first, the afternoon sun peeking through the open blinds burning through her eyelids. It was nice to open them in the mornings and let in natural light, not too nice to wake up to. She turns her head away from the windows and presses her cheek into the pillow, willing herself to fall back asleep. Oscar's sleeping on her and the weight is so comfortable and warm she never wants to leave. Her bladder has other plans. she succeeds in slipping away from him without waking him and tip toes to the bathroom.

When she returns, Oscar's sitting up on the couch. “My pillow grew legs and walked away,” he grumbles, the lines from her shirt pressed into his cheek. She rejoins him, straddling his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck.

She presses a kiss to the tip of his nose as she curls her fingers through the back of his hair. “Your pillow is back now, had to take a bathroom break,” she teases.

He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her closer, dropping his head to rest on her shoulder. “Hate waking up without you. ‘specially when i fell asleep holding you.” His words move through her like notes of a song and she coos. “You keep saying things like that i’m gonna fall in love with you.”

A disgruntled noise leaves his throat and he pulls back to look at her, “And here I was, thinking you already were.”

She giggles, soft and sweet and rubs her nose against his as she agrees, “I fall more in love with you every day.” She doesn’t think truer words have ever been spoken, at least from her lips.

“You keep saying things like that i’m gonna fall in love with you.” he hums, leaning in to press a kiss to her lips, then to her cheeks, forehead, and nose. It sends butterflies shooting around her stomach and she forces back the urge to smile like an idiot.

She ignores the lovesick feeling and teases, “I suck your dick so much, you have no choice but to be in love with me.” Her words make him snort.

Oscar nods in agreement, “I would stay for the blowjobs, if nothing else.”

She bats at his chest and gasps, “You’re supposed to say, no I love you for other things.”

A wicked grin takes over his features and he squeezes her hips, “Oh, trust me, I love you for other things. Your pussy for example-” She presses her lips to her mouth to shut him up, he breaks the kiss immediately with a loud laugh, tilting his head back. She should have expected it really, after she made the blowjob joke. Oscar slows his laughter and sighs, “I really do love you, every little thing about you.“

She presses a kiss to his chin, “Ditto, Opie.”

[vinylmango]

Flower Delivery

crazy ex!Nicholas Alexander Chavez x black!reader

Request: Hi! Can you make a story about Nicholas Chavez being obsessed and real crazy if that’s fine!

Warnings: gaslighting and obsessive behavior, language

word count: 1.2k

Note: Fair warning this is my first time writing long form content in a while and my first request. Thanks so much for requesting and I hope you like it!

part two

part three

masterlist

You opened the shiny silver trailer door with a sigh, your eyes cutting left and right as you quickly clicked the door closed behind you. Silence enveloped you, a stark contrast from the hustle and bustle outside. Flopping down on the small beige sofa near the window of your trailer, you reached an arm out, haphazardly feeling for your phone as you tried your best not to move from your comfortable position. 

You finally grabbed your phone after a few tries, glancing at the various notifications on the screen. “Nothing important.” You mumbled to yourself as you placed the phone down on the coffee table. You glanced up at the table that was beside the full length mirror, your eyes being drawn there due to the pop of colors that screamed against the basically designed trailer that only utilized various shades of creams and whites. 

“No…wh-how?” Slipped from your lips, filling the silence as you stood and took a few hesitant steps towards the beautifully arranged flowers. A sinking feeling began to grow in the pit of your stomach, combining with a growing anger that only seemed to bubble up more the moment your hand touched one of the delicate yellow petals. 

A small white card with your name scrawled in intricately looped lettering caught your attention from beside the vase. “My (Y/n), I always knew you’d be a star. Love, Nick.” You gritted your teeth, tossing it back on the table as you rolled your eyes. “What the fuck?” You inhaled sharply. "Oh my God, what the fuck!" You repeated as you grabbed your phone once again, clicking the contact you didn’t really have to spend much time searching for, and clicking dial.

It only rang twice before the line connected. “Hi (Y/n).” You could hear the smile growing on his face already, your nails turning white around the phone that was pressed to your ear, your lips pulling into a firm line. “I take it you got my flowers?”

“I told you to stop.” Your tone was deceivingly calm as you closed your eyes and let out a breath.

“Stop what, love?” 

“Don’t call me that.” You instantly replied as he chuckled into the line. “Stop sending me things. Stop it. We aren’t dating anymore. It’s been a year, just stop.”

“I sent you flowers every week.” A chill ran up your spine as his tone switched from the lighthearted one to a much more serious and strangely calm one. You could picture his face now, devoid of emotion and dark eyes staring straight at you with a calculating look as if he were assessing you.

“Well we aren’t together. We haven’t been for a year.” You reminded him again as you heard him scoff. 

“You didn’t know what you wanted. I know you (Y/n). We’re better together. Just trust me.” 

“No.” You shook your head, although he couldn’t see you. “You don’t get to do that anymore. You have no idea what I want or need because you’re a fucking psycho!”

“Don’t be so dramatic (Y/N). You’re confu-”

“I know what you did with Sam.” You cut him off. “He showed up at my place last month going on about how two-faced I supposedly am. How he was so lucky some ex of mine told him that I’m a serial cheater, that I cheated on him too. Then the ex told him that I’ve been sleeping with him since before I even met Sam, let alone started dating him, because I’m still in love with my ex.” A humorless laugh left your lips at the absurdity of it all. “I know it was you and you know none of that is true."

"Hm." He didn't say anything, neither confirming or denying your accustation. But you both knew the truth, it hung heavy in the air.

"He broke up with me." You could picture the look of satisfaction that crossed his face. "This is the third time, Nicholas."

“He’s not good enough for you. He’s a douche and a scumbag and he's been that way since high school. He uses people to social climb.” Nicholas brushed it off. “You think I’d allow him to hurt you? Damage your reputation? Make you another one of his conquests? I was protecting you.”

“No. You don’t get to do that! You don’t get to decide who I can and can’t talk to!” Your voice raised as you messed with your hair, a nervous habit that you didn’t realize you did until Nicholas pointed it out one time when you were over for a movie night. “And you need to stop showing up at my place. You’re scaring Mrs. Mills.” You added referring to your elderly neighbor who was the one that told you sometimes a car would come by late at night and park in front of your home then leave after 30 or so minutes. Always the same car. 

“That woman doesn’t even know what day of the week it is most of the time. You really are going to believe her over me? That's insane. She's damn near senile.” He sounded offended now, his tone short and tense.

“Nick, I'm done, seriously. Loose my fucking number.” You said finally, hanging up and immediately blocking his contact. You jumped as a loud knock sounded from the other side of your trailer door.

That couldn’t be him. Could it?

You opened the trailer door just enough to stick your head out. 

“Are you alright (Y/N)? You look like you saw a ghost or something.” It was just one of the studio interns coming to get you from the filming break. She laughed lightly, her blue eyes shining almost as much as her dark glossy hair in the sunlight. You let out a forced laugh, your mouth rising into a smile that did not reach your eyes, and frankly looked more like a grimace than anything close to a smile. 

“Sorry. I-I was just lost in thought.” You tried to cover for your awkward reaction as she nodded, looking you over once again before the smile returned to her face. 

“They’re ready for you on set again.” She told you as you nodded and grabbed your phone off the table before following her out and towards the stage. You should’ve grabbed those flowers and thrown them in the dumpster that was on your way to the stage from your trailer. You weren’t sure why you hadn’t.

You glanced back once, worried you may have forgotten to lock your trailer, you couldn’t remember if you had or hadn’t. Your foot caught on your shoelace as your eyes locked with the all too familiar dark brown ones that had once made you smile. 

He watched you stumble, his eyebrows raising as a hint of a smile appeared on his lips at your blunder. You gasped, looking around to see if anyone else was seeing the man who was not supposed to be on set or if this really was a figment of your imagination. 

“Are you okay?” The intern spun around and asked, concern written all over her face. “I’ve been trying to tell people on set about that hole. They really need to repave this. You aren’t hurt are you?” She was talking a mile a minute as you blinked at her and simply nodded, glancing back in the direction of your trailer to find nothing there. No Nicholas after all.

Maybe it really had just been your imagination.

“Uh…Ye-yeah. I’m alright.”

[fluentmoviequoter]

A Manly Guard Dog

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader

Summary: You've been asking your husband for a dachshund, but he tells you that you need a manly dog. When the K9 unit gets a new recruit, Tim reevaluates his view of dachshunds.

Warnings: teasing/banter, pure fluff

Word Count: 1.2k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Tim?” you whisper over your dimmed phone screen. “Are you asleep?”

“That depends,” your husband Tim answers. “Why?”

“Look at this.”

“I’m asleep.”

You roll your eyes at his poor attempt to avoid talking to you, even though it is the middle of the night and he has to be at the station in the morning. Despite feeling bad for waking him up, you know he’s awake and need to ask him something important.

“Tim, it hurts,” you add.

“What hurts?” he asks as he sits up quickly. After he pushes up onto his hands, Tim leans toward you and reaches over you to turn on the lamp on your nightstand.

“Look,” you repeat, extending your phone toward Tim so he can see the dog on the screen. “It hurts because I don’t have one of my own.”

“A dachshund? We’re back to this again?” Tim asks incredulously.

“Tim, I want a dog.” Your words are emphasized by your pout, but Tim only grunts as he turns the light off and lies down again.

“If we ever get a dog - big if,” Tim murmurs, “it has to be a manly dog. One that can protect you when I’m not here.”

“We can train a dachshund to be a guard dog,” you argue. “They’re vigilant, loyal, vocal, and easy to train. Tim, it would be perfect and so cute!”

Tim tosses an arm over your waist and kisses your temple before he responds, “Go to sleep.”

As you move closer to him to do just that, he whispers, “I love you, but we’re not getting a wiener dog.”

“Tim, Tim, Tim!” Lucy calls as Tim exits the locker room the following morning. “Oh, you’re not going to believe this.”

“Then don’t tell me,” Tim deadpans.

“So, there’s a new K9, right?” Lucy begins as they walk toward the bullpen.

“And you’re telling me.”

“The trainer brought Officer Fuzz over. Cutest name ever, I know. But when we heard that they were working with a new breed we thought it would be a husky or something. It’s not. It’s so much better. Guess what it is, Tim!”

Tim stops in the middle of the bullpen. A crowd of officers surrounds the K9 trainer, and between two cops, Tim can barely make out the shape of…

“A dachshund?” Tim asks loudly.

“Yes!” Lucy cheers. “Isn’t it awesome?!”

“I can’t believe this.”

“C’mon,” Lucy urges, pulling Tim along by his arm. “Meet Officer Fuzz.”

Tim squats to pet the friendly dog and shakes his head at the tiny K9 vest he’s wearing.

“Nice to meet you, Fuzz,” Tim mumbles. “My wife’s never going to let me hear the end of this, pal.”

“Bradford,” Wade calls from the other side of the circle. “How would you like to take them out for a ride along?”

Tim stands as the trainer adds, “I’d love to join one of the best officers in the field to test Officer Fuzz’s progress.”

“Sure,” Tim answers through gritted teeth. “But are dachshunds really worth anything in a job like this?”

The trainer and Officer Fuzz follow Tim toward his shop, and Tim can’t help but watch the small dog walk happily through the station on his first day.

“If they’re trained right, they certainly can. They’re bred to hunt badgers by tracking scents and entering their burrows. A lot of those skills translate to police dog responsibilities. Basically, because of their intimidating bark, alertness, devotion, braveness and stubbornness - courtesy of their hunting instincts - they’re perfect. Fuzz here can scare a suspect or locate bombs, drugs, you name it.”

“Scare suspects until they see him, you mean,” Tim points out.

“Well, Bradford. Let’s test your theory.”

“LAPD!” Tim yells. “On the ground!”

Behind him, Officer Fuzz barks.

“Is that a dog?” the suspect attempting to steal a sports car asks. “Your car doesn’t say K9.”

“Show me your hands and drop to your knees!” Tim repeats. “Or I can call my K9 partner over here.”

The man seems to weigh his options, then drops his tool and raises his hands over his head.

“Scared of dogs?” Tim asks.

“Police dogs are crazy dangerous, man. Scared is smart, that’s what my-“

“I don’t care who said it,” Tim interjects before he begins reciting the Miranda rights.

When Tim opens the back door of his car, Officer Fuzz growls lowly before barking once.

“Whoa! I’m not sitting by that thing!”

“See the barrier? That’s for your safety, not ours,” Tim says. “Now get in.”

At lunch, Tim pulls his phone from his pocket and begins to type. He hesitates, however, and looks away before he can finish the search.

“Chen!” he calls, waving for Lucy to join him. “Where can I adopt a dachshund?”

Lucy’s eyes widen in excitement before she asks, “You’re getting a dog?!”

“I’m getting my wife a dog.”

“Because of Officer Fuzz,” Lucy states (not asks).

“No,” Tim defends. “No, I just… Dachshunds are a good option for family pets and protection.”

“Which you know because of Officer-“

“Fine, yes,” Tim admits quickly. “Do you know where I can adopt one or not?”

“Maybe you should ask the K9 trainers,” Lucy suggests. “They’ll know where to get a good one.”

“Thanks, Lucy.”

“Sure thing.” Lucy stands to return to her partner, but not before she says, “And I’m glad you’re finally listening to your wife.”

“No, quiet,” Tim commands. “Good. Now, sit.”

“Tim?” you call from the front door.

“Uh, one second!” Tim calls.

He sounds frazzled, and you walk toward his voice before you stop. Tim is whispering to someone, but you can’t make out what he’s saying before the bedroom door opens.

“Hi,” you greet. “Are you okay?”

“You’re home early,” he replies, gripping the doorknob tightly.

You glance at the time on your phone and say, “No, I’m not.”

Tim’s brows furrow as he looks at his watch. He nods, then laughs and locks eyes with you.

“Am I interrupting something?” you ask.

“No, well, yes, but no.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Tim sighs and reaches toward you. You don’t hesitate to step forward and lay your hand on his. With his hand wrapped around yours, Tim leads you into the bedroom, and inside, a brown blur races toward you.

“Tim!” you exclaim as the long-haired dachshund puts its front paws on your leg and wags its tail happily. “A dachshund!”

“Canis lupus familiarias. The K9 trainer that helped me out told me all about them,” he explains.

“Is he…” You trail off, unprepared to hear a negative answer.

“He’s ours,” Tim answers happily. “He’s already been obedience trained and I’m going to work with him to create the smallest but mightiest guard dog you’ve ever seen.”

You pull the dog into your arms and hug him kindly before you lean against Tim’s chest.

“Thank you,” you whisper, looking into Tim’s eyes.

“Sorry I said no for so long.”

“What changed your mind?”

Tim doesn’t answer, and you turn your attention to your new pet, or guard dog as Tim introduced him to you.

“Was it Lucy? I bet it was Lucy,” you whisper to the dog.

“It was Officer Fuzz,” Tim grumbles, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“Officer who?”

“New K9 who I’m sure you’ll meet next time you visit the station.”

“I love you.”

Tim kisses your head before he asks, “Wait, me or the dog?”

[igotanidea]

Too hot to handle: Jason Todd x reader

SMUT MDNI!

As usual sorry for all the typos, grammar mistakes etc. I really had to post it XD

***

Y/N was fuming.

For no reason at all, falling down the internet hole, she found herself on some stupid forum for stupid horny women who couldn't keep it in their pants.

Clearly those bitches were getting hot and bothered for Red Hood, shamelessly sharing their dirty thoughts and comments on some parts of his body and the things he'd let him do if--

Fuck.

She could have Tim or Babs trace their IP addresses in a second and could pay them a visit of a very possessive, angered and super jealous girlfriend.

Her hands were almost itching to write a few spicy comments herself, spilling the beans of whose body Red Hood was touching almost every night. Whose lips he was devouring. Whose most sensitive parts he was tasting with his tongue, begging for as much as a drop of sweetness. Whose moans and gasps he got to hear, whose voice was his drug, whose curves he was worshiping on his knees.

Obviously, she couldn't do that, but the thought of Jason's muscled body on top of her, his hands tracing her skin and joining her in the intimate dance had a side effect seeping through her panties. 

She needed him. 

With the need that could not be satisfied with her fingers or even the toys she had stacked safely in the locked bottom drawer.

Jason ...

Come home...

Can't you sense how much I want you now...

She almost prayed to the moon on the sky to bring her lover back to her. 

***

That little tingling on his skin was something new and as much as he hated to put the thought into words, it was like a spider-sense. The one of Y/N’s second favorite self-appointed hero – spiderman.

Y/n…

Was that feeling because she was in danger?

Did someone hurt her? Did anyone dare lay a finger on his precious girl?

Jason gritted his teeth, clenching fists, anger at a purely potential enemy flooded his brain.

It was a quiet night either way, giving him a perfect opportunity to take a quick detour and check on his angel. Just a look and assurance that she was safe, to help him keep going and push him through all the shit and doubts.

Y/n….

***

He did not expect her to sit in front of Netflix at 2 am. She had work in the morning so why on earth was she watching the series?

“Hey!” he called, probably a little bit too loud, causing her to jump on the couch and almost drop the mug. “Sorry…”

“Next time give me a heads up, will you?” she muttered with a pout.

“Um- okay. What’s with the attitude?”

“Nothing.” Y/N scoffed angrily, turning back to the TV.

“Can I please get my girlfriend back? You know, the other one? Nice and caring? The one who would ask me if I’m hurt or maybe need patching or a post-patrol kiss?” Jason teased moving in front of the screen, successfully blocking it from her view. “Wait… Y/N, are you watching “Too hot to handle?" His laugh filled the room, because honestly that might have been the funniest thing in the whole week. His serious, a bit reserved, goody-two-shoes girl had her eyes on the show about horny singles.

“Shut up…”

“Oh, I will most definitely not shut up about it. Are you hinting at something, here? Cause you know, you don’t need a show like this if—” he switched a little, coming closer and leaning over her silhouette on the couch

“Shut up, Jason!”

“Whoa!” his hands raised in feigned surrender “someone’s feisty today, aren’t you?”

“I’m not feisty. I’m furious!”

“At what?”

“Girls!”

“Wait, what?” Jason frowned “I am confused.

“Girls! Women! The ones who are trying to bang and –”

“I thought you liked banging?” he sent her a knowing smirk

“Jason!”

 “Come on, sunshine, you cannot hide that blush.” He pointed out, brushing fingers over her reddened cheeks, raising her head so she had to look into his eyes “What’s gotten into you? Tell me the truth.”

“Stupid internet.”

“Mhm. Okay. Care to elaborate?”

“Did you know the girls are getting hot for the Red Hood on some stupid forum?”

“Nope. Did not. But… did it make you jealous?” he smirked, expecting her to deny and squirm in embarrassment that he accused her of such low feelings.

“Yeah…” Much to his surprise, she decided to be honest. It truly was a strange night. “Yeah, I was. Jealous and furious. Hence the “Too hot to handle” marathon.”

“Hm? Can’t see the correlation.”

“It’s so shallow and selfish and mean, but – the show is so silly and most possibly fabricated. I may, or may not have been trying to diminish women who are openly horny….?” Her voice became barely audible at the end, as if she was ashamed to admit her own .

“Oh, you silly little one.” Jason laughed, pulling her onto his lap and brushing hair out of her forehead. “You could have led with that.” His lips brushed over her forehead

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“You should have told me, that coming across girls leching over me-“

“Over Red Hood!” she interrupted and he only laughed again.

“Over me” he underlined  “- got your knickers in a twist.”

“It did not!”

Great, now she was trying to deny it. Too bad it was too late and he was in the mood for the games anymore. He felt the need to assure her that she was the one, though also expressing appreciation for said open horniness and for a little bit of jealousy. It made his ego soar.

“Didn’t it?” he teased, grabbing onto her waist and laying her on her back, hovering over her, moving fingers up her leg, until it reached the hem of her sleeping shorts. “Maybe I should check myself then?”

His hand brushed over the inside of her thigh, causing her to let out a sharp exhale.

“Oh, right… My little minx is not wearing panties at all. So it seems like you have been telling the truth after all. You did not get them in a twist…”

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to her, a sudden sweet distraction allowing him to yank those silly little shorts down, exposing her want without any care in the world. Opening her legs and wrapping them on his waist, without breaking the kiss for even a second, Jason pressed his weight on her, distributing it evenly on his forearms, to not crash her.

“Mmm. Tease.”

“And you love every second of it.” He smirked, grinding against her core, sacrificing his favorite tactical pants to her warmth and wetness. Not much of an exorbitant price for what was waiting at the finish line.

And even though it was just the beginning of the marathon, they were already gasping heavily, grasping onto each other, pulling each other closer and closer. She was so needy and he loved it. The more bothered she was, the easier it got for him to end on the winner’s podium. His cock was hardening by a second, making it almost painful to be kept in the pants, but he was holding back.

“Jason…” she moaned, reaching down his torso, sneaking hand under the waistband.

“Not yet, baby.” All she got in return was her hands pinned above her head in a very vulnerable position, completely at his mercy. And to add to it all, Jason lips attached to her pulse point, sucking the sensitive skin, making sure to leave a dark purple hickey. The one she wouldn’t be able to cover easily. “Not yet…” the grip on her wrists faltered for a second, but not enough to allow her to break free.

Jason was skillful and knew exactly what he was doing.  Feeding her with the false hope of freedom only for a second, only to grab her hands in one hand, using the other to roll her sleeping shirt up, exposing her breasts, but not taking it off fully.

“Hello, lovelies…” he muttered, before diving between her tits, getting the arching back and multiple sounds of pleasure in return. “Yeah… keep those sounds coming, baby…”

His lips traced a scorching path down her cleavage, making her want skyrocket, smirking upon the feeling of her legs tightening on his waist and her hips grinding against her jeans.

“Not yet.” He commanded again, pressing her back flat onto the couch. “Not yet…” his eyes flashed with something primal and animalistic. There was something devilishly turning on with having her naked under him, while he didn’t shed a single piece of clothing. And he was going to exploit that opportunity to the maximum.

With a quiet laugh that sounded almost sinful, Jason bent down and traced tongue over the flesh of her soft, warm breast, purposefully avoiding the little pink button that was begging for his attention. Yes, his ego was skyrocketing upon hearing her cries of pleasure and broken gasps of his name on her swollen lips, followed by the flexing of her body against his touch.

Yes, he might have been acting a little dominant, but they both knew it was not going to go on forever. 

Deep inside Jason was sweet and romantic, definitely putting soft, tender lovemaking over hard and rough sex.

And really, it didn’t take him long to give in to her pleadings and entreaties, moving lips to her nipple, sucking and biting on it gently.

“Oh yes!” she cried out, closing her eyes and from that moment things started taking on the pace. Jason groaned from the sensation of her breast in his mouth, letting go of her wrists, allowing her hands to tangle in his hair, only adding to the feelings burning inside his chest and groin. Abandoning lavishing attention on her chest, he guided her hands to the hem of his shirt and with  interlaced fingers and eyes never faltering from each other’s face they pulled it over his head, exposing his toned upper body, covered with fresh bruises and cuts.

“So you are hurt…” she whispered, touching the pads of her fingers to the newest purple mark on his pec.

“I didn’t notice…” his voice was deep, calming and full of adoration “All I notice right now is you…” he grabbed her hand pressing it to his lips, kissing all over her knuckles.

“Then come feel me too…” she moved upwards, pressing her lips to his, wanting to feel that chapped warmth on hers. And once their mouths met it was a sensation incomparable with anything else. Ironically (or not) making out like this, with their entwined bodies, separated only by the material of his pants, slowly, tenderly, focused only on each other, leaving the whole world behind was turning her on more than actual penetration.

Which did not mean she didn’t want to go all the way.

“Is it time yet?” she whispered, with a little bit of teasing in her voice, breaking the kiss only for a second.

“You are ruining the moment, sunshine.” He chuckled, tracing kisses up her cheek, all the way to her ear, softly biting on her earlobe, causing more tickling than actual pain. Y/N responded with a little chuckle as well, cupping his cheek, bringing his lips back to hers once more. Without breaking the making out for even one second, Y/N removed his belt and undid the button on his pants. Then, with a few kicks and swings of legs, they managed to set him free from his confines, finally feeling each other from head to toe.

“How’s your jealousy doing now…?” he teased, guiding himself to her entrance, grabbing onto her waist, rolling his fingers in tiny circles on her sensitive skin.

“Who’s ruining the moment now?”

“No idea. Who?” he chuckled. It was so good being with her like this. In the moment of intimacy, that was meaningful but deprived of the seriousness that could ruin the tenderness. Perfect mix of softness and love, seasoned with a bit of well balanced humor and  sarcasm that bonded them in the first place. “You ready for me, baby?”

“So ready.” She smiled, shifting and squirming to allow him to slide inside better and maximize the pleasure of unity for them both.

“Mh. Hello there…” he smirked and without missing a bit started to move inside her. Slowly, but intensely. Building up and drawing the tension. Moving hands on her body in time with the thrusts, fueling the fire that was meant to warm but not burn. “Is this what you wanted?” he looked at her face searching for the answers behind those e/c eyes, filled with longing and devotion.  

“Yeah… Good thing you helped me realize what it was that I wanted…” she started matching his movements, kissing him again.

The tension between their bodies was building slowly and steadily. There was no rush. They had all the time in the world, that suddenly shrunk to only them two.

Jason and Y/n.

Y/n and Jason.

Together.

Connecting seamlessly, with bodies joined and heart beating only for one another. Creating their own bubble of beauty and wonder in the darkness and danger of Gotham.

“I love you…” he muttered, leaning forehead on hers, needing to say those words before everything turn into the blur and haze due to the slowly approaching tidal wave of climax.

“I love you…” she responded, feeling the exact same need, knowing well enough that those three little words exchanged before the post-bliss was far more meaningful and far more true.

***

“How’s the hate on horny women doing now?” he muttered against her hair, some time later. It could have been minutes as well as hours cause once they busted the pleasure door open time suddenly became relative and meaningless.

“Hm? What women? Wait a second. Are you really trying to tell me there are other women somewhere?’ she looked at him with a tease, raising an eyebrow playfully. “I am fairly convinced there are only you and me. No other men or women anywhere.”

“Hm… What I’m hearing is that I’m the only guy in the world for you?”

“It depends on—”

“Because sure as hell you are the only woman for me.” He added quickly, knowing what her condition was. “And no silly internet forum or contestant of so-called hot, naughty Netflix show could change it.”

“You got soft, Red Hood.” She smiled, nuzzling into his chest and placing a little kiss on his chest, close to his heart

“I can be hard when it counts, though.” His heart picked up the pace as her lips touched his skin “Honestly I can be anything you may need from me.”

“How about we both stay ourselves?”

“Works for me.”

Jason's arms wrapped around her pulling her to his chest for more and more aftercare and cuddles. It was a quiet night after all and he could indulge in some time with his beloved Y/N.

[brailsthesmolgurl]

GIVE ME ANOTHER CHANCE

Here comes another angsty fluffy one-shot request by one of my readers. Featuring everyone's fav doctor, Zayne. Enjoy the story! Warnings: Angst but yes to Comfort

"How can you expect me to do my damn job but also expect me not to be hurt?" You gritted your teeth, eyes shooting daggers into Zayne's side profile. He seemed unbothered by you raising your voice slightly, either he is used to it, or he expected it. Or both.

"Then I would suggest you to quit your job." His words were finalised, no variations in tone or anything. Just a statement, a sentence with a full stop. Your eyes welled up with tears. How could he not understand? To at least give you the benefit of the doubt that accidents would happen in your line of job, but you would do your best to minimise it?

"I won't." You walked over to him and you noticed his head turned slightly to face you. "And I am done with you." You grabbed your bag off of his desk and you darted off towards the front door. Zayne got off of his chair to hold you back but before he could grab your hand, you threw him your statement. "I do not wish to see you ever again. Have a good life."

Zayne was out at a charity event hosted by Akso Hospital, to raise funds for the several orphanages at Linkon City. As usual, he was expected to give a speech in front of the crowd, but instead of being the lead cardiac surgeon for Akso, he shall be giving his speech as one of the biggest donors for this event.

But as of now, his time has yet to come, so he stood at one of the cocktail tables, watching the crowd of unfamiliar faces. Although he is one of the best cardiac surgeons, he was not known to be the friendliest amongst his colleagues so generally, not many people would go up and strike a conversation with him.

He finds his mind wandering, floating from what would be a good post-event dessert to what diagnosis he have yet to complete to you. It has been 6 months since the both of you had contacted one another. Zayne however, had tried to call you after you had left but to no avail. And surprisingly, you blocked him so he had no methods to reach out to you. He could have easily come over to your place, but with Zayne being Zayne, he would not intrude into someone else's property if he was not invited at first glance.

His phone vibrated from the inside of his suit, and he peeled apart the right side of his tailored suit to fish out his phone. He stared at the caller's name for quite a bit. Longer than a few seconds. 'Y/N' flashed on his phone's screen. He pressed the phone to his ear. "Hello."

"Zayne." You were huffing and panting, and he could hear your whimper through the line. "I need... I need your help." You tried to explain, one hand holding the phone to your ears while the other pressed up against the deep gash you have on the side of your hips. "Nobody was picking up... I had no choice..."

Your voice. It was breaking up in between chokes and whimpers and sharp inhales. Zayne knew you were hurt, and this time, it is much more severe than any other times when he was there to tend to your wounds. He knew this was coming. No, not the call. He figured you would uphold your ego so much that you would not reach out to him anymore just to prove him wrong. To prove to him that you could take care of yourself.

But look at you now. He knew that there shall be a day where he would have to treat you when you are at your worst condition. He could imagine you being pushed into the hospital, with tendrils of tubes surrounding your body; to administer blood, nutrients, oxygens and many other fluids that your body requires to achieve a stable condition. His mind got snapped back to reality when you no longer spoke on the other side of the line.

"Stay still." You heard someone talking, unsure whether if it was towards you. "Or else you might end up hurting yourself again."

Your eyelids felt heavy as you slowly opened them, taking in your surroundings. The last moment you remembered was you were at one of the danger zones and you were outnumbered by a couple of wanderers. You managed to defeat them with all of your might and yet they manage to give you a wound so nasty it robbed your ability to stand and walk.

The room that you are currently in does not smell sterile at all. In fact, it smells like a mix of lavender and with hints of coconuts. The room was lit only with lamp decors, the light bouncing off of the pristine white walls, tainting it with a shade of beige. The room is tidy and emits the vibes of a cosy home which reminds you of someone you knew.

"Did the concussion made you lost the ability to listen to simple instructions?" You snapped your head to the right side as you slowly sat yourself up and you could not stop your jaw from dropping mentally. Zayne is seated right next to you, an apple in hand and a knife in another, eyes focused on peeling the skin off of the apple. One of his many acquired skills.

Your palm smoothed over your hip and you winced, facial features scrunched together in pain as you realised how bad your wound is. "What happened?" You choked out, still awaiting for the stinging pain to wear off.

"You called me earlier and through the phone, I could tell that you were terribly injured." He brought the peeled apple up to his face, examining it closely before placing it down and taking the next apple to start peeling its skin off. "So I went over to save you."

"But..." You were embarassed, teeth biting onto your bottom lip. "With what I had done previously... you could have-"

"You called me after six months of not being in contact, and you expect me to do nothing with your calls for help?" He spoke, finally placing the half-peeled apple down onto the ceramic plate, a clink followed as he placed the knife down. He looked towards you, his hazel green eyes are only brown within such a dark room. But you could make out the soft gaze he was giving you. "Does it still hurt?"

Your cheeks were hot, your heartbeat ramping up when he got closer to you. "I will leave once I feel better." He quirked one of his thin eyebrows up, a signal of confusion. "As soon as I can walk, I mean." You turned your face away from him, but this time, his fingers were quick to catch your chin, pulling you back to stare at him.

"I'm afraid that might take a while." He lets go of your chin and pulled down the blanket slightly, enough for him to see the bandage wrapped around your hip, and enough for him to notice the bits of skin showing above your hip given he had to wrap your hips so clothing would only be in the way of his treatment. "Your wounds are quite deep this time around. I had used my evol to freeze and cut out some of the dead tissue but I think rest should be your first priority for now."

"Look, I called you because I couldn't reach out to anyone else okay? I will be out of your hair once all of this," you gestured at your wound. "is fully healed." Your chafed statement made him sighed, his fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his sculpted nose. "So how long will this take? For me to heal?"

"I'm sorry." He muttered, the voice of his faltered alongside the wind chimes that he had hung by the windows. Your whole body was rigid, staring at the man in front of you, apologising to you out-of-the-blue. "It was selfish of me to ask you to quit your job and to not trust you in protecting yourself."

Your lips could not move, as if you were gagged by his remorse, his guilt, his regrets. Six months passed, and yet you did not took it any easier than him despite you were the one who chose to leave him and to never look back. You were the one who blocked him from contacting you entirely, you were the one who thought that he would at least cared about your passion for your work.

However, as a matter-of-fact, you can never forget about him. You always find yourself taking the long way home, purposely passing by Akso Hospital just to catch a glimpse of him. On lucky days, maybe you could catch him from a far distance, getting off of work. On unlucky days, you could still catch his black sedan car parked within the staff columns.

"When you called me, I expected the worst." Zayne's side profile is the only thing you could see now. "I tried contacting you after you had left, but the dial tone always ends, so I assumed that you have blocked me." Hearing how he had tried to reach out to you, your gut twisted, adding on to the pain that you are experiencing physically. "But I would understand if you would want to rest alone at your house instead of mine. I can schedule to send you back home tomorrow before I head off to the hospital."

"Zayne, I, I just couldn't believe it when you asked me to quit my job..." You trailed off, your eyes drooped as you felt your tears weighing them down. "I thought you would have known better that I am a deepspace hunter and that I will always be putting my life on the line."

Zayne leaned over, his shadow loomed over your figure and he placed his hand on the top of your head, slowly smoothing your hair behind your back. His touch was gentle, soothing to your skin. "And I should have trusted you instead of asking you to quit." You can feel the heat radiating from both of his hands cupping your cheeks, your face probably the size of an egg within his grasp. "When you were away, I find myself thinking about you and your safety a lot."

You agreed, your hand coming up to cup over his. The difference between both of your hands always a surprise to you. "I can't help but to want you as well, Zayne." His thumb caught the tear that streamed down your cheeks and he wiped it off. "I am sorry too, for having to walk out on you and on this relationship."

"Now, you should allow yourself to rest." Zayne's lips curled up into a small encouraging smile. He laid you down onto the bed slowly, hovering over you. "Would you still like me to fetch you back home tomorrow?" The shake of your head made him sighed in relief. "Then you should stay here, where I am capable of taking care of you." He peered down at you, his gentle gaze contradictory to his chiseled facial features. "Not only till you get better, but for the future too." The man then leaned down to claim your lips in a soft and longing kiss.

Tadaa! That is the end for this one-shot! It is fluff just as requested by my reader, so I hope this suffices you guys heart <3

[saekkas]

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔

summary: michael kaiser is a coward who needs a little incentive to finally confess his feelings towards you.

tags: f!reader, roommates to lovers, fluff, falling in love, kissing (more like, making out), jealousy, mutual pinning, possessive kaiser.

wc: 1.7k

notes: i do not know what possessed me into writing this, but man, it needs to do it again.

something you've realized early on in your friendship with kaiser is that he's a coward.

he hates spiders, makes you throw the trash out at night, and screams whenever something falls out of its place because he thinks the apartment is haunted.

in the year that you've spent as his roommate, you've come to terms with it. he's nice, cleans his dishes, and helps with the laundry. he keeps the noise down to a minimum and cooks you breakfast when he isn't preoccupied with practice.

another perk of living with him is the fact that he buys you things, expensive things. perfume. flowers. the dress you were eyeing online. your favorite snacks. a limited edition plushy you've been wanting since forever.

anything.

you realized early on that michael kaiser is rude to other people, scoffing and smirking as if he's above everyone else. he mutters comments about them under his breath, thinking you can't hear. he bosses people around, looking at them like they're ants. a waste of his time.

he isn't like that with you.

for one, he's sweet. if the gift giving isn't enough, he goes out of his way to seek you out after his matches. he asks for massages, for small pecks and fleeting touches. he video calls you when he's away, never forgetting to wish you a good morning and sweet dreams through voice notes. all with a grin on his lips.

you aren't blind. you know those are his ways of expressing affection. you just wish he'd finally man up and admit his feelings.

"so, how was the date?"

kaiser's sitting on the couch of your living room, remote control in hand as he stares at the tv, some random soccer match showing across the screen. his hair is wet, and he's got his glasses on. his posture is relaxed, seemingly nonchalant as he asks the question.

you know him enough to see him gritting his teeth even through his bored expression.

"good evening to you too," you laugh, airy as you take off your heels. putting them next to the door, you drop your keys in the sage bowl, letting them clink against his. "have dinner yet?"

leaning against the door, you can see the fine lines of his shoulder tense. the kaiser you're used to is a show pony, the person sitting on your couch isn't. he almost looks like a stranger with his neutral expression and bored eyes. such a difference to the guy who usually comes running whenever you walk through the entrance.

"i ordered takeout." he motions to the plates littered around him, pointing at the fridge. "i saved you some of your favorites."

internally, you flutter. happy to know that the kaiser you know, and love, isn't completely gone.

"thank you, that's very sweet of you."

he's adamant on keeping his eyes off you and on the screen, his shoulders becoming even more tense as you open your arms wide.

"no hug for today?" there's a hopeful smile on your lips as you say the words. happy to finally have everything the way they should be.

only to be shut down with a single side eye from him.

"what?" he asks lowly, almost conceding in his words. almost like your presence bothers him, like all those other people do. like you aren't special to him anymore. "did your date dump you? and now you're looking to me for comfort?"

the words are icy, and he gives no room for rebuttals. not when he looks at you with a quirked eyebrow and a cocky smirk.

it's the first time he's used his persona on you. one he uses to hide away from the world. you decide that you hate it.

"no. actually, he was sweet," you bite back, glaring when you decide that enough is enough. "asked to hold my hand and carry me on his back."

you watch as his face darkens, his eyes clouding over until you can't recognize the pretty blue color they usually spark in. you're riling him up, making him angry. and it's working.

"why? jealous?"

it's the question you've been dying to ask for months now. he flirts like you're more than friends, buys you gifts like you're something special to him, shuts down every time you go on a date with someone that isn't him.

but when it comes down to it, you not his to have. not when he's too much of a coward to do anything about it.

"and if i am?" his words surprise you. it's the first time he's come close to revealing his true feelings in months. they're said with an underlying tone of anger, jealousy, and possessiveness. like you're already his and no one else's. "what's it to you?"

"oh, you know, just happy you're finally being a man and talking about your feelings."

you shouldn't have said that. with the way his eyes are practically glaring, you don't know what else to say. you look up when he stands, practically looming as he stalks to you.

"you're so-"

his words are interrupted by his cursing. he glares down at you, pushing his hand next to your head, pining you against the door. you gulp, watching as he practically shakes in anger.

"du machst mich wahnsinnig, liebling. ich glaube nicht, dass ich mich zurückhalten kann, wenn du weiterhin so eine göre bist."

translation: you're driving me mad, darling. i don't think i can hold back if you continue to be such a brat.

"he even asked to kiss me too," you say, your voice trembling under his dark gaze. your sweet and funny roommate is gone, replaced by the man you see in front of you. your heart is pounding against your chest, in both fear and excitement for what he'll do when you finally push him off the edge. "he-"

kaiser surges down, cutting your sentence off with a kiss.

your eyes widen when your head hits the door from his force. a shiver running down your spine when he lifts a hand, placing it on the back of your head, gently caressing the area. closing your eyes, you wrap your arms around his shoulder, kissing him back with just as much fervor.

he relaxes at that, pulling back slightly only to swoop back in, keeping you in his arms for as long as he wants. by the time he finally breaks the kiss, you're both leaning against each other.

you've never seen his eyes as happy as they are now.

"ich bin mir sicher, dass ich besser küsse als er," he says, smug as he takes in the way you're panting. he chuckles, placing his hands on the side of your neck to pull you into another kiss. "richtig, liebling?"

translation: i'm sure i kiss better than he does. right, darling?

"i don't know what you're saying but yes. okay. sure." you nod, head still hazy as his hands start to stroke your cheek. "if it's something bad, then no."

he chuckles, placing a kiss on the corner of your lips. he keeps you rooted in your spot, his eyes darting back between your eyes and your lips. "you're mine now, yeah? no one else gets to kiss you the way i did."

"about time," you say with a roll of your eyes when your breathing finally settles. you play with the hair around his shoulder, slightly tugging at the strands. "it went awful, by the way. he made me walk 3 kilometers because his car broke down."

his hands stop, freezing as he looks at you incredulously. "but you said-"

"i lied," you say with a cheeky grin. you lift yourself onto your tiptoes, placing a kiss on his cheek as an apology. "just wanted to see how you'd react."

you giggle when he groans, letting him settle in the crook of your neck. "you little minx. next time, call me. i'll pick you up and drop you off."

there's the kaiser you know and love.

"mihya." the nickname is odd on your lips, new and completely unrefined. you watch as he perks up, his eyes practically shining as he looks down at you. guess you'll just have to use the nickname on him more often from now on. "you're a terrible driver. you'd be picking me up at the mall and dropping us off at the gates of heaven."

"well, at least that means an angel will finally return home."

you smack his shoulder for that.

bonus:

you're walking down the stairs of your university a few weeks later, laughing at something your friend said when the sound of squealing fills your ears.

a sleek black lamborghini sits right in front of you.

you blink, taking in the over-the-top showcase before your eyes land on the figure right beside it. you snort as kaiser winks at you from his spot, still taking his time to soak up the limelight.

"did you have to come all the way here to be a showoff?" you greet him with a kiss to his cheek that kaiser visibly grins at.

ever since getting together, he's been hogging you all to himself. he insists on driving you to and from wherever you need because your time together is worth everything to him. "you are so petty. making sure no one even thinks of asking me out on another date?"

"you like it." the way he says it is breathless, like it's a secret he's been keeping to himself for a long time. "you like me."

who knew michael kaiser turned out to be such a corny romantic?

you snort, tugging him into the car before he makes any more of a scene. "i do."

he grins at that, revving the engine as loud as he can, smirking when a group of freshmen cheer and wave to him from behind the car.

"good." he takes your hand, placing a kiss on the knuckles. he holds it as he backs out of the university and into the open street. "be prepared because i'm about to spoil you even more."

[moremaybank]

shy but pervy bsf!jj who gets caught using your bikini top to get off...

warnings male masturbation, getting caught in the (solo) act, soft dom!reader, sub!jj, jj cums on r's tits, mommy kink but it's only mentioned at the very end

jj's slumped against the old and nearly-falling-apart mattress in his designated room of the chateau. sweat clung to his skin the more he worked at himself. muscles stiff and rigid, wisps of blonde hair hanging over his eyes as he peered down at his angry, pulsing cock.

wrapped in both his fist and the red framework of your bikini top, he gritted his teeth to prevent his curses from stringing out.

was it risky? getting himself off with your flimsy excuse for a bathing suit while you were right outside? sure.

but it was all your fault in the first place.

you'd spent the day in that same top, frolicking around on the beach while your tits bulged out of the thin material. it pushed them together in a way that jj could only describe as godlike. and if your cleavage wasn't already calling out to him, your nipples undoubtedly were. you stepped out of the water, and the cool breeze hit your wet body. goosebumps spiked across your skin, and your buds pebbled right before him.

he had to hide the drool that was pooling out the corner of his mouth.

but things turned even more sour when you hugged him. they swelled when they pressed against his chest, and thanks to the aforementioned thin fabric, he could practically feel all of you.

then, when the day turned to night, and you'd changed out of your swimsuit and into something more comfortable (his shirt, of course, because you weren't making him suffer enough), jj decided it was within his rights to use your top to his benefit.

his eyes flicked back and forth. from one hand that clutched his phone tightly, the screen lit up with a zoomed in photo you two had taken earlier that day, over to the other he had curled around his cock. he fucked his fist, as well as the striking red fabric, whispering out your name and a few other dirty sayings that only made him harder.

he travels so far into his own world, one that he'd crafted himself with visions and thoughts of you, that he doesn't seem to hear you call for him when you saunter into the chateau. he misses your steps, your knocks on the wooden door, and if it weren't for the creaks of the hinges, he would've missed your gasp.

his head snaps toward you, hand immediately stilling. "fuck. i-i can explain—"

your next words stun him.

"shh." you walk over to him, taking a seat on the bed next to him. your hands raise, framing his flushed cheeks. "if you wanted to cum on my tits, you could've just asked. you know i'd give you anything."

you pull him in, pressing a searing wet kiss to his lips. "you want that?"

it takes him a second, but he gets there, nodding frantically as the words trip past his lips. "y-yeah."

so you play your part of the dutiful best friend, doing anything to make him happy. your fingers grasp the bottom of his worn cotton tee, and you pull it over your head. jj's prayers are answered when your bare tits come into view.

you can see that he's hypnotized, and you have to bring him back to reality yourself. "start stroking, j. let me see how you fuck yourself while you think of me."

the leading star of every last one of his wet dreams is seated before him, topless and asking to watch him while he gets himself off. off on her. he can't tell if he's alive or if he's died and this is his very own slice of heaven.

"anythin' you want, babygirl. anythin'."

eyes locked on your breasts, his hand starts to move. he's throbbing wildly against his palm, just from staring at you, and at the plumpness of your chest. he loses it when your hands travel up the length of your torso, cupping your tits and toying with them in a way that makes jj's tip start to pool and leak. his speed accelerates, and you feel your panties dampen as grunts curses spill from his lips.

"yeah, there you go, pretty boy," you praise, beginning to jiggle them the way they would if he was fucking you. "bet you wish you were the ones makin' them shake, right?"

he lets out a pitiful whimper, hips now thrusting to meet his movements. you hear your name in a whine, watching his eyes screw shut. you're quick to remind him whose rules you're both playing by. you're so sweet about it, almost purring at him while one hand abandons your chest, allowing you to grasp his chin between your fingers. "uh-uh, open those eyes. if you wanna cum, you gotta watch me. can you do that for me, j?"

he obliges. of course, he does. you're his favourite girl. he couldn't say no to you even if he had a gun to his head or a knife to his throat. his eyes flutter open, and he's biting on his lip so hard that it's bound to bleed. your thumb pulls it free.

"don't do that. need to hear you thank me when you cum, right?"

he nods, no longer able to form words when one of your hands cups his balls and starts to massage them. your other pinches your nipple, and you moan for him.

"you wanna paint my tits, handsome?"

"yeah. yeah."

"okay," you say, getting on your hands and knees before him. you bring your chest right up to his cock, giving him what he wants. "cum all over 'em, j. give it to me, baby."

"mommy, f-fuck," he gasps, body going into shock as his cum shoots out in spurts across your skin. "thank you. thank you, thank you, thank you."

concepts ; concepts (ii)

[lovebugism]

AH HI!! so... i love the way you write ditzy!reader, and especially with steve idk it just warms my heart yk? The way they interact 😭 it's so lovely

Since I'm an angsty girly at heart, I thought about a situation where steve gets a teeny tiny bit frustrated with ditzy!reader, but it's just seconds, even less than that but it's enough to make her upset for making him upset but also a super fluffy moment between both of them and steve being mesmerized by her and just so much in love

ahh thank u lovie! pls enjoy!! — steve gets frustrated with his sensitive gf and makes up with her accordingly (hurt/comfort, established relationship, 2.7k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ��́)ノ)

You keep Steve company during the last half of his shift like you always do. 

He’s grumpier than usual, though — all pouty and visibly brooding. 

You plop yourself on the front counter of Family Video and ask him what’s wrong, and he tells you that the day’s been hell and he’s just tired. There is no “but I feel better now” like there usually is when he’s upset but doesn’t want you to think it’s your fault. 

The “because you’re here” is typically implied. 

Not so much now.

You’re having the complete opposite day of your sulking boyfriend. Yours had been dreadfully boring, or at least you say it had been, but you find a million different things to tell him. You’re too excited after having spent so many hours without him, like a dog with a wagging tail. You’ve got the zoomies of the mouth, if you could even call it that.

“—And then I saw the cutest dog on the way over here. His name was Cappy, and he was huge, and the owner was so nice. He even let me pet him, and he literally felt like a cloud— the dog, not the owner.”

Steve is used to this. The whole rambling about nothing thing. He loves it about you, actually. It took him ages to coax you out of that shell after your asshole ex told you that you talked too much, convinced you that no one cared about what you had to say.

You’re more comfortable now, and Steve loves that you are, but right now he just can’t concentrate.

Keith’s been on his ass about inventory all day, and he just learned how to do it on the old, bulky computer this morning — but only after Robin made him an hour late to his shift. Everything’s just too much now. He’s overwhelmed to the point of spontaneous combustion. 

For the first time ever, you’re not helping.

“—And, like, I know when we move into our apartment, we’re technically not allowed to have pets, but like… What about a fish? Or a turtle?” you wonder aloud but don’t stop to let him answer. Sitting on the edge of the counter, you kick your feet and flit your eyes to the spotted ceiling. “What if I start feeding the deer in the woods, and they just start showing up at our backdoor? ‘Cause technically—”

“Babe, please,” Steve snaps suddenly when your sneaker knocks his chair. He’s buzzing with anger, and even though it’s not because of you, he doesn’t know where else to put it.

Your eyes go wide at the newfound bite in his tone. He’s not shouting at you, but it makes your heart stop like he is. You feel like a kid again, getting scolded for being “too much.”

“…What?” you squeak.

Steve sighs. A deep, heavy sigh. It doesn’t remove the leaden weight from his chest, though. 

“I’m… I’m really trying to concentrate here, and you’re just— you’re making it really hard,” he tells you through gritted teeth, trying hard to keep his composure.

You deflate like a popped balloon. “Oh…”

He can hear the waver in your tone, the way your voice sounds wet with unshed tears. But he’s too overwhelmed — internally raging and selfish with it. His sweltering temper makes his woe feel more important than yours.

“Yeah, so… Can you just— go bother someone else for, like, five minutes?” he asks, fists clenched on either side of the clunky keyboard, his gaze concentrated on the pixelated screen. “Robin’s probably sulking in a corner somewhere. Go find her.”

Your face crumbles like a balled-up piece of paper. Your chest gets all tight, and your eyes start to burn when tears gather behind them.

You’d always been a flower of melodrama — blooming eternally and constantly sensitive. So when Steve cut you off as you fantasized about a family of deer living in the backyard of an apartment you were supposed to share together, it felt like a knife in your chest. 

The irrational thought that he no longer wanted any of that with you was fleeting and vivid and burning. Irrational, still.

But now you’re annoying him. He’s told you as much, with an unusual harshness he’s never spat at you before. And now your fears feel much more real.

“I’m bothering you?” you ask him, barely intelligible through the whimper in your throat.

Steve huffs again. His elbows thunk against the desk when he puts his head in his palms, swiping his fingers through his hair like he always does when he’s antsy. 

“I just really need to get this done,” he tells you, softer now. He makes himself mad all over again, though, and gets sharper once more. “I need to finish this before I get fired, and then we have no apartment to move into because we have no money, alright?”

There it is. The root of all his anger. A lingering feeling of inadequacy. 

He wants a life with you, but all he’s got is a measly Family Video salary — which he’s lucky to have apparently, because he can’t seem to do anything right. It stirs like a fire in the pit of his stomach.

After another deep breath, he finally turns to look up at you. His honey eyes are wet and stern. The chiseled edges of his features are sharp. Gently, he pleads. “I really need to work here, babe.”

You nod, understanding and internally weeping. “Okay. I’m— I’m sorry, I was just— I’ve been missing you all day, and I got too excited, I think,” you confess, wringing your clammy hands in your lap like a scolded child.

“Don’t apologize,” Steve says with a huff, leaning back against the squeaking swivel chair. It’s old and has lost all its cushion. His stiff back aches all the more. There’s no relief, to any of it. 

He sits back up again and puts his unsure hands back on the keyboard. “Just— Just go, okay? Let me finish this.”

He leaves little room for argument.

You wouldn’t, though, even if you wanted to. Which you do. You’re just not strong enough.

—————

Steve tells you to go, but you end up in the kiddie corner across the store. 

Mr. Rogers puts on a bright red cardigan and sings a tune that makes you feel like crying. You sit on the color-blocked carpet, surrounded by block toys, and clutch a stuffed bunny to your chest. You can’t tell if the vintage VHS is making the screen blurry or if it’s the tears gathering heavy at your waterline.

Robin walks by you, does a double-take, and immediately reports to Steve.

“What did you do?” she interrogates with narrowed eyes, strolling up to the counter with a cart full of tapes to put away.

The hearty tap, tap, taping of the keyboard fills the silence. 

Steve doesn’t look at her until he’s finished up the last of his work. Only when it’s fully and finally complete does his hardened gaze dart to her. “What are you talking about?”

“Your girlfriend. She’s upset.”

“What do you mean she’s upset?”

Robin rolls her eyes at his obliviousness. “I don’t know. She’s singing the Mister Roger’s theme song and, like, crying. It’s weird.”

Steve’s brows pinch. His heart does, too. “Crying?”

“Well— not crying, exactly. It’s this really weird blubbering thing.” She fails to explain it so she tries to imitate it. A sobbing, sniffling sort of noise. She fails at that, too. Her scrunched face goes back to normal. “Like that.”

Deadpanned, Steve nods. “Wow, Robin. That was really helpful. Thank you.”

“Just go comfort your girlfriend, dingus.”

Steve still thinks she’s joking. Robin doesn’t lie, but she does have a tendency to overemphasize the mundane. 

He goes to see you anyway, though, and doesn’t think twice about any of it — about what Robin said or what he had said to you before that.

He finds you in the kid’s section, in front of the tiny television, surrounded by brightly colored toys. He smiles at the sight of you, exhaling a sharp laugh through his nose.

“What are you doing all the way over here, huh?” he questions to announce his arrival, which you seemingly hadn’t noticed. “This area is usually for kids, ya know? Well, kids and Dustin Henderson.”

He doesn’t sound as annoyed with you anymore. You’re grateful for that much, but you still feel a bit sick about the whole thing.

Your nervous hands pick the cotton of the fuzzy bunny in your arms. You keep your gaze on the television in front of you, but you aren’t really watching it anymore. “I used to watch this stuff a lot growing up. The nostalgia sorta makes me wanna puke. But, like, in a good way.”

Steve scoffs. “Well, maybe we should turn it off then, ‘cause if I have to clean up vomit after the day I’ve had, I might actually go insane.”

He’s kidding. Mostly. The universe tends to be cruel like that, but he’d clean up all your messes a thousand times over if he had to.

He laughs at his own joke as he crouches to sit down next to you. He bends his knees, props his arms on top of them, and looks over at you. You don’t crack a smile for him, which is weird because you always laugh at his jokes. Even the ones that aren’t funny. Especially the ones that aren’t funny.

His smile ebbs to a wavering half-smirk as he knocks his shoulder with yours. “You okay?”

You think for a moment, jutting your lips out, unblinking at the television screen. “No,” you answer after a few seconds of silence. “But I’ll get over it. I think.”

Your honesty makes his heart wrench — like you’ve wrapped both your tiny hands around the beating organ and squeezed. It knocks the breath out of his lungs, a fish so ruthlessly pulled from the water. He tries to speak through the sudden lack of air. “Wh—What happened? Was it… Did I do something? Did you—”

“No,” you cut off his stammering with a firm shake of your head. “I did something.”

“Oh,” is all he says, pink lips pouting and wide eyes darting. “What does… What does that mean? Did you, like, step on a rogue VHS or something? ‘Cause I do that all the time, and technically, that’s Rob’s fault for leaving them out, so—”

You shake your head again, digging your nails into the delicate cotton of the well-loved stuffy in your arms. “No. I was just— I was botheringyou, and now I feel bad,” you confess, all quiet like a meek child who’s learning what it means to be sorry.

Steve — your oh, so oblivious one — goes aflame with embarrassment. He’d been too clouded by his own anger to recognize the venom spilling from his mouth; to understand that it would inevitably hurt you.

With chiseled features twisted in confusion, he shakes his head and stammers. “What? No! You weren’t— You weren’t bothering me!”

You turn to look at him, for the first time since he sat down beside you. Your eyes are glassy and swimming with hurt. You try to keep your trembling features stoic. You don’t want to seem as hurt by it all as you really are. 

You feel like you should, anyway. What right do you have to be sad when you were the one being a bother?

“You said I was,” you remind him, still soft but sterner now. “You told me to go bother someone else—”

“Oh, babe…” Steve says, deflating just as you had. 

He knows how sensitive you are, how deeply you feel things. You’re vulnerable, raw — it makes everything feel more personal than it really is. It makes grumpy jabs from your dumbass boyfriend hurt like a lemon on a weeping wound.

He tries to apologize, knowing that he hurt you and that it’s not up to him to decide that he didn’t. 

“I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to, babe,” he murmurs, swiping a tense hand through his hair and then gesticulating wildly with it. “I was just being a dick, you know? I’ve been super stressed all day and—”

“Don’t apologize. I was being annoying.”

Steve blinks at you with wide, wet eyes — like you’ve hurt him by talking so cruelly about yourself. 

“Baby, no. No,” he urges, ducking down to meet your gaze when you look away from him. “I’m just an idiot, okay? I put off inventory until the last second, and Keith’s been on my ass all day about it, and I just— I took that out on you, and that’s not fair, and I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, pursing your bitten lips to the side and twisting the long ear of the bunny between your fingers. “It’s not your fault, Steve…” you murmur, almost inaudibly.

He scoffs. It sounds like a bitter laugh. “Well, actually, it kinda is.”

“I just… I don’t really understand what’s going on sometimes. Or, like, a lot of the time,” you admit with a distracted gaze, eyes flitting everywhere but to the boy beside you. You’re too ashamed to look at him now. “And it’s harder for me to know when I’m talking too much, you know? Or if I’m being super annoying.”

“I know…” Steve nods, trying his best to be sympathetic of you. He loves how soft you are — too much to understand you completely. He loves how gently you treat the rest of the world, how unusually giddy you get in your gentleness. 

You swallow through a tightening throat and shrug to pretend your world doesn’t feel like it’s crumbling around you. “And I don’t care about annoying other people— well, I do, but it’s different with you, you know? Other people can’t break up with me for being too much.”

“The idiot that told you you were too much had exactly zero personality,” Steve tells you, mostly because he means it but also to see you smile. 

You do, just barely. A grin so soft only someone deathly in love with you could see. 

“You’re never annoying me, okay? Ever. I love hearing you talk. I love having you around.”

“Yeah?” you ask him, blinking back burning tears.

“Hell yeah! You’re, like, the best part of my day! The only good part of my day, now that I think about it.”

Biting back a grin, you tease, “Well, what about Robin?”

“Robin made me late today, so we’re kinda not friends right now.”

“That’s mean,” you scold despite the growing smile on your face.

Steve shrugs. “We’ll make up before I clock out. No big deal.”

You go suddenly shy, smiling sheepish and tilting your chin to your chest to peek at him through your lashes. “Are we gonna make up before you clock out?” you wonder quietly.

“Only if you’re willing to forgive me for being an insufferable douchebag,” Steve answers, only half-joking. He very seldomly feels worthy of your softness.

You look at him with it, anyway. 

Full on beaming now, you reach across the short distance to wrap him in a firm embrace. The position is only slightly awkward. Sitting side by side with your asses on the hard carpet, your arms wound tightly around his neck — a bit like a snake smothering its prey. 

Steve feels grateful to be held so ardently. 

His nose smushes into your neck. The sweet scent of your perfume entwines with the warm scent of your sweater. He smiles into your shoulder when it makes you giggle. You pull back from him then, just to steal a quick peck a moment later. Your lips smack audibly against his grin.

“Can we make out before you clock out?” you lilt with a shy smirk.

“…That is the single best idea I’ve heard all day.”

Your giggle fills the empty store when Steve rises suddenly and pulls you with him. He leads you toward the back, tugging you by the hand down the short corridor and rambling all the way. “Keith left for the day, so his office is empty, which means it’s fair game—”

“I am not making out with you in Keith’s office!”

“But his desk chair is crazy comfortable, and also, he’s a dick, so… who cares?”