#every single one of these men are fine as hell

[lillaydee]

One More Try Part 2

Landlord Joel Miller / Reader

They say a woman is tested when her man has nothing. But a man is tested when he has everything. What happens if you both passed the test, but your partners did not?

WARNINGS:

Unplanned Pregnancy, Soft Joel (The Last of Us), SO MUCH FLUFF, Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Reader was pregnant before meeting Joel, Slow Burn, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Mentions of Miscarriage (Not OC), Landlord Joel, No Outbreak AU

SERIES MASTERLIST

Part 1

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Joel knocked on your door one Friday night about two weeks after you first moved in, quite aggressively, too, you thought. You opened the door, still in the clothes you were wearing to campus, a box of Chinese in your hand. He held up a cheque that you had slipped under his door on your way up. You had finally gotten your bank account sorted and got your first weekly pay as Frank’s RA, so you wrote a cheque as first payment for the medical bill he paid for you. You had budgeted it properly. If you clocked in eight hours a day for work and paid him half your weekly pay every Friday, you would finish paying him in four months. You could still do your dissertation work after that and on the weekends.

Damn he looked good. He was all dressed up. His usual t shirt swapped with a flannel, his usual light jeans swapped for a darker pair that looked newer, his hair styled a bit and combed neatly, and was he wearing cologne? You couldn’t help the smile that came to your face. You leaned against the door and joked,

“Wow Miller, you look good. Hot date?”

He flushed, slightly, but ignored your question. “What the hell is this?” he asked instead, waving the cheque in your face.

“It’s a cheque,” you answered, “You cash it at the bank for money.”

“I’m aware miss Smarty Pants, but what is it for?”

“Well… I have to start paying you back. For the hospital bill.”

“Did I ask you to pay me back?”

“No… but I got my first pay today, so I’m paying you back.”

He took a deep, controlled breath and tore the cheque before depositing it in the trash can beside your door, telling you to keep your money.

“Hey! What was that for?” you asked, a little bit annoyed.

“Keep it. For the baby. Don’t even think of paying me back.”

“Joel… I can’t…” but he held his hand up.

“Not taking no for an answer. I said keep it,” and walked away.

You went to the window in the corridor, watching him get in his truck and drive away. You didn’t know why, but you felt a bit deflated. Was it because he refused to accept your money? Or because you didn’t see him as often as you thought you would? After he went with the group to talk to Max, he came to your place once to fix your window, but Maria was there so you two didn’t talk much. You didn’t see him around much after that, you only got home after it’s dark, and left early in the mornings. You needed to, to fit in the eight working hours and still get a few hours of work done on your doctorate. He lived right below you, and yet you never saw him. And now, the first time you saw him in ten-ish days, he was dressed up, smelling so good and looking so delicious you could eat him alive. You heaved a sigh you didn’t know you needed to release. It had to have been a date, right? Men looking like Joel Miller do not sit around at home on Friday nights. They go out for single, non-pregnant ladies to flock around and swoon over.

You went back inside when his truck drove out of sight. He won’t take your cheque. Fine, you’ll just write him another one. You finished eating and got your laptop out. Time to do some work.

You woke up just after dawn broke that Saturday, your neck stiff from doing your work hunched over the coffee table. You needed to buy a proper desk if you were going to do your work at home, but that’s a bit beyond your budget right now. So, you quickly showered and left for the campus, your laptop bag on your shoulders, your trusted sling bag crossed over your body, a piece of plain toast in your hand for your breakfast. Joel’s truck wasn’t where it usually was. Of course he didn’t come home. Men looking like Joel Miller do not come straight home after a date, what stupid self-controlled women would let men looking like Joel Miller go home after a date? Your feet suddenly felt a bit heavy, trudging along to begin your few miles hike to campus. Your apartment was just outside the compound, but the campus was huge. You stayed in your study room all day, eating ramen and an apple for lunch. When you got home after sundown, his truck was still not there.

For the first time in years, you had no one to wait for. No one to call and check if they’re okay, or if they’re coming home for dinner. No one to wake up to when they come home late. It’s just you now. It’s only been two weeks, you thought. This was normal. You needed time to adjust to being alone again. You had ramen again that night, knowing that you probably needed to eat healthier stuff, but you didn’t have the energy to cook, not that you had anything to cook in your small kitchen. You had been surviving on cafeteria food and takeout, and whatever bits of groceries you could buy from the small store on campus. You thought about going to the farmer’s market the next day, but the thought just made you tired. You were simply not ready.

You decided to go to campus again that Sunday. If you were going to graduate on time, you needed to get your act together. You didn’t have time to mourn your relationship with a man who left you as if you hadn’t been supporting his hopes and dreams for the past ten years, you had your own future to think about. One where you would be a single mother, so you needed to complete this dissertation as fast as you could, while working as much as you could, so that you can make enough money to prepare for the baby’s arrival, and get a reliable, full-time job to support them and give them anything they needed growing up.

When you left for campus that Sunday morning, Joel was still not home, not that you were checking, or knocking on his door while you were slipping a newly written cheque under his door. But his truck was not out front, not that you were looking for it. You spent the entirety of your walk to campus wondering why you cared. Was it because he looked out for you even before he knew you? It had to be, no way you felt a certain way about him, right? If you did, and that was a big IF, it must be because you were feeling vulnerable. You couldn’t really be catching feelings for some man you just met two days after you got dumped, right? Plus, even IF you were indeed feeling that way, the man couldn’t possibly be available. He was out the whole weekend – he must have a girlfriend or something. One that he spends his weekends with. Yeah. That’s it. That’s where he was. So, get him out of your head, you pathetic, dumped, single pregnant lady. No need to imprint on the first man who was nice to you.

When you left for work on Monday, his truck was finally back. He must’ve come back late Sunday night; it wasn’t there when you arrived after spending more than 12 hours on campus. You felt great that day. No nausea at all, for some reason. Maria stayed with you after work for dinner, but you declined her offer to drive you home, thinking that you should get some more work done while you were feeling great. You promised her you would get an Uber to go home. But of course, you didn’t. You could walk the distance. You need exercise anyway. When you got home, Joel was standing outside the apartment building, his arms crossed across his chest.

“Did you just get back?” he asked. His eyes scanned the road. “Did you walk?”

“Erm… no… I went out for groceries. I took an Uber.”

“You don’t have any groceries with you, and I literally just saw you walk down the street.”

“What were you doing out here at this time?”

“I was taking the trash out, throwing some cheque someone kept writing for me when I specifically told her not to. Also, I am perfectly safe within the vicinity of my apartment, and not walking alone and pregnant in the dark,” he said.

“Joel, you have to take the money okay. Please cash my cheque. I can’t be relying on you like this,” you pleaded, ignoring his other statement.

“Have you been walking home alone at night all this while?” and… he ignored you right back.

“No.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, opening the door for you to get in. He walked you up and shut the door behind you when you walked into the safety of your apartment without saying another word.

The next day, after work, you were planning to go up to the study, when a wave of nausea hit you out of nowhere. Maria, concerned, offered to drive you home. But you told her that you couldn’t – the nausea will go away, you hadn’t been hit with it full on yet, so far. You had to use the study, you said. The coffee table was too low, and the kitchen counter was too high and too narrow for you to do your work comfortably. Okay, she said, let’s go to Ikea then, get you a proper study table. You kept quiet and shook your head, no. You paid for the study room; you are going to use it. You didn’t need to worry your best friend with your financial woes. Sure, the small settlement Max gave you had helped ease the burden off a few things, but you didn’t see why you needed to spend money you could save for the baby on a desk you didn’t really need, when you had the option of using the one at the room you paid for. So, you went upstairs, had a little nap in your chair, and did your work for a few hours, Maria having left only after you promised her you would Uber home if you felt too ill.

When you got to the apartment compound, your ridiculously good-looking landlord was right where he was the night before.

“Taking the trash out again Miller?” you asked playfully.

“You definitely walked,” he said. “It’s fucking far. It’s not safe,” he said.

You just rolled your eyes at him. “I’m a big girl Miller. Gonna be a mom soon, I can take care of myself.”

He rolled his eyes right back at you, silently opening the door, again, walking you up before shutting it closed behind you.

You were not at all okay on Wednesday, Frank telling Maria to drive you straight home after work, despite your many protests. She ordered food for the both of you, and you fell asleep before she even left. You had to take Thursday off, nausea hitting you full blast it woke you up. You spent the day in bed, falling in and out of sleep, running back and forth to the bathroom to empty your empty stomach further. Around lunchtime, a knock sounded at your door. You were too out of it to even get up to open it, and decided to ignore whoever it may be.

“I have a key, you know. So, you either open up, or I will open it myself,” your landlord’s voice came through.

Shit. You look around your small apartment, the full trash cans, the clothes from last night all over the place, your bags, your laptop, your plates… Shit.

“I can hear you moving around. You have one minute to open the door, or I’m coming in,” he warned.

Shit. You took the three steps from your bed to the door and opened it a smidge.

“Hi Joel.”

There he was, you handsome landlord, arms full of takeout bags and groceries.

“What’s all this?”

“A little bird told me you were too sick to work today, and that your place is woefully devoid of food. So, here I am.”

You were going to kill Maria. Tattle tale.

“You’re going to let me in?” he asked. “I promise I’m not a creep. Just trying to put my brother’s girl at ease. She’s going to kill me if I don’t help you out. So will my Mama.”

You took a deep breath and opened the door wider for him, cringing on the inside at how messy your place was. But he just shut the door with his elbow, made his way to the small kitchen before plating up some food for you, placed it in front of you at the coffee table, and told you firmly to eat. As you did, he moved about the small unit, picking this and that up, washing the dishes in the kitchen that was so small it made him look gigantic, and stored all the groceries he brought away. You didn’t even have the energy to protest, having used up all your energy to throw up all morning. You finished your food, placed the plate on the coffee table, pulled your feet up onto the loveseat and fell asleep, already feeling better than you did when he walked in.

You woke up about a few hours later in bed. How the hell did you get here? You could’ve sworn you fell asleep on the loveseat. You sat up and was immediately struck by the wonderful smell of something simmering gently on the stove, and, oh my God your apartment was spotless. All the mess you were worried about when Joel knocked were gone.

Shit. Joel. Did Joel clean up while you were sleeping? Your dirty laundry was gone... did he pick up your dirty underwear too? Oh… the horror.

The door unlocked, and Maria and Frank walked in. Both smiling at you, asking you how you were feeling.

“How did you get in? Where did you get my key?”

“Ran into your very good-looking landlord downstairs. He gave me a copy,” Frank said, his eyes naughty. “Maria called him before we left. Didn’t want to wake you if you were sleeping.”

Maria placed the key and her purse on your coffee table, looking around the place, her eyes lingering on the pot on the stove. “Well, I was going to cook you something, but I see Joel took care of that.”

Frank got a spoon and sampled a bit of whatever it was on the stove. “Damn, that man can cook! He’s a good one darling. You should keep him,” he said, winking at you.

Maria snorted, while you just threw yourself face first onto the bed again. “How are you feeling babe?” she asked, stroking your hair softly, your mumbled ‘better’ into the mattress making her smile.

Frank sat on the loveseat and told you to take the rest of the week off. No use coming to work when you can barely stand, he said. Work can wait. You kept quiet, deciding to not share your worries with him, or anyone, for that matter. He stayed for a few more minutes before leaving you and Maria alone, saying he will only see you on Monday, and only IF you were feeling better, his finger pointing at you as a warning that he was serious. There was no use protesting anyway, you could hardly get off the bed.

Maria laid in bed with you, you two watching some show on Netflix on her tablet as she waited for Tommy to pick her up. Her car was at the shop today, and she insisted on staying with you until Tommy came with dinner, wanting to make sure you eat well, at the very least. She had known you since you both started your PhD journey, and she knew how neglectful you can be about food when it came to yourself, often opting to eat whatever you could get your hands on rather than putting much effort, especially when you were feeling sick. She turned the stove off, taking the pot off the burner. She took out some disposable containers from the cabinet, and ladled the contents into them, before leaving them on the counter to cool. You just watched, feeling thankful that you would at least have something to reheat and eat the next few days, unsure if you had the energy to do anything much.

When Tommy arrived, Joel came in with him, a basket of cleaned and folded laundry in his hands, placing it on the floor next to the closet after softly nudging the door shut. The four of you ate dinner amidst mild chit chats and laughter, Joel sitting cross legged on the floor with Tommy, you and Maria on the love seat. Somehow, you felt extremely comfortable, despite not spending much time with Tommy before your breakup, and only knowing Joel for a couple of weeks. Conversation flowed smoothly, and when dinner was done, they helped you clean up, before leaving you for the night.

You hugged Tommy and Maria goodbye, and turned to Joel, who was the last to leave the unit.

“Thank you, Joel. I don’t think I can thank you enough. I am mortified you cleaned up if I’m honest. I’m not usually this messy. And you did my laundry too!! Oh God… I’ve just been… anyway, I’m so sorry to be so much trouble. Thank you again Joel.”

“It’s no trouble. We all need some help from time to time. Like I said, I’m just downstairs. If you need anything, I’m right here. Okay?” he said, taking your hand in his for a bit, gently squeezing it, before quickly letting go.

You slept hard that night, your hand still feeling the ghost of his small touch earlier. So hard, you didn’t wake up until noon on Friday. You spent the day doing some work, hoping to make some progress even if a little, despite not feeling so good. The nausea had lessened for now, thank God. But the lethargy lingered. Too tired to do anything. God, you were not even three months in yet.

You had some of the soup Joel had made for you for lunch, man oh man the man could cook. You were contemplating heating up another serving for dinner when he knocked on the door, with a bag of takeout in his hands, all dressed up, just as he was last Friday. He told you he would be out for the weekend, but he won’t be far away, so if you needed anything, just give him a call, and he will be right over, okay? He handed you the bag, the smell of Thai food invading your senses. You told him he didn’t have to do this, you could order your own food, you feel better now, but he waved you away, and shut the door behind him, but not before reminding you to call him if you needed him.

You put the bag on the counter, and suddenly just felt… tired. You picked at the food he left you, feeling a different sort of nausea than you felt the days before.

You spent the entirety of the weekend at the study, putting in as much work as you can, so that you don’t think about your landlord spending the weekend at his girlfriend’s, instead of with you.

Shit. Pregnancy had made you delusional, hadn’t it?

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WARNING - SOME MENTIONS OF BLOOD

You spent the next week avoiding Joel, spending more time at the study after work, walking home extremely late at night. It’s not right, you thought. He had someone; you were sure of it. Why else would he spend weekends away? And here you are, a hormonal, recently dumped mess of a woman, looking at some lucky lady’s boyfriend with heart eyes, all because he was a decent enough man to help you out every now and again. It’s not right. Max left you for someone else, you were going to make sure you didn’t contribute to another woman’s heart being broken if it was the last thing you did.

You found out from Maria that he and Tommy used to run a small but successful construction business, which went belly up when a developer for a big project that hired them ran off without paying them. Luckily, Joel had purchased the apartment complex with ten units to rent out before that happened, so they had a fallback income to rely on. Tommy helped out, managing the property, fixing this and that when needed, and eventually the two opened a small workshop, taking custom furniture orders. It started doing really well too, however, they had to cut back, a lot. They were no longer making the kind of money they were making when they had the construction business. Tommy was already living with Maria, but Joel had to sell his house and move into the complex, and that’s when his…

At this, Maria shook her head and stopped talking. You were sure there was more to the story but decided that with your newfound determination to avoid the man, it was none of your business.

Not that the plan worked, he was always at the entrance every time you got home. When you got home later and later, he took a chair out, and whittled at some wood under the light of the doorway while waiting for you. You limited your interactions to small smiles and a hello, but he didn’t falter. He would still walk you up, and closed the door behind you once you were in.

You went about your life for the next month or so, going to your appointment with Tess, working, fending off morning sickness, writing your dissertation, going home. And with the exception of his weekends away, Joel would be there waiting for you to get home safe. You wrote him a cheque for your medical bill every Friday, and every time, he would return them to you, or tear them up. Either way, no money was ever deducted from your account for that. It’s exasperating. It was as if he was determined to make your life hell, if hell consisted of thirsting over your ridiculously good-looking and gentlemanly landlord who wouldn’t take the money you owed him.

By the time your pregnancy hit four months, you were becoming more and more lethargic, falling asleep if you so much as sat still for a while. You were awoken one Thursday night at your study, a very worried looking Maria and Joel looking at you as if you’d died. He had gotten worried that you hadn’t come home, called you numerous times, but your phone was on silent. So, he called Maria, who flew out of her apartment to check up on you. He drove you home that night, not saying anything, but walked you up as usual, closing the door behind you.

The next morning, he was waiting for you at his truck when you left for work. He opened the passenger door for you, silently asking you to get in. You hesitated, but he pointedly told you he would drive alongside you the whole way over if he needed to, so you got in. He buckled you up, and drove you over, not saying anything as usual. When you left the faculty building late that night, his truck was right there, him whittling away on a piece of wood at the entrance, sitting on a folded chair he had brought along with him, all dressed up as he normally would be on Friday nights.

To say you were stunned was an understatement. It was almost ten at night, what was he doing there? Had to make sure you made it home safe, he said. Can’t have you falling asleep alone in that study again now, can we? You felt horrible. He was still obviously going to his girlfriend’s place, but he was delaying it to make sure you got home safe. You kept quiet during the short drive but stopped him before he got out of the truck to walk you up.

“Joel, you don’t have to do this. I can take care of myself. I refuse to be in the way of your life. Someone’s obviously waiting for you, Joel. How would they feel knowing you were late because you were picking up your pregnant tenant?”

He looked stunned for a little bit, but then smiled and said “well, I know for a fact that she’s proud of me.”

Huh???

“Where do you think I’ve been every weekend?”

“Er… I don’t know. Your girlfriend’s place?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Oh. Fuck, why are you blushing? You can’t see blushes in the dark, right?

“So where do you go every weekend?”

“These past few weekends? I take my mom out to dinner, and then spend the weekend with her. She lives alone, about 10 minutes from here. I usually only do that once a month, but she broke her foot a few weeks ago, so I went every weekend. Tommy joins too sometimes.”

Aww… shit. Good-looking, gentlemanly and kind to his mother. What the fuck were you going to do now?

---

That Sunday you decided to skip any form of work at all. You cleaned, ordered some groceries online and went downstairs to do your laundry. Your neighbours mostly consisted of single university students, usually much younger than you, with the exception of Mrs Adler, an older lady staying there while her house was being fixed due to fire damage. She was chatting you up while you were folding, when two younger tenants came in, girls in their early twenties, wearing next to nothing, showing off their perfect bodies. They were both expressing their disappointments that a certain older man was not around that day.

“Awww… looks like I’m gonna need to break my shower on purpose…” girl one said.

“Not if mine breaks first!!” girl two interrupted, before they both erupted in good natured laughter.

You couldn’t blame them. He was a good-looking man. And if being in his mid-30s made him older then you were old too. Except, when a woman is in her mid-30s, she’s old. When a man is in his mid-30s, he’s mature, at least according to the early twenties like these two. You couldn’t help but stare at their exposed body parts, the young, cellulite free body parts with supple skin that you used to have over 10 years ago. Nowadays, whatever crash diets that worked like a charm in your early twenties no longer worked, and you being pregnant was not helping. Those bodies of theirs were but a dream of what you used to have and can never ever have again.

No wonder Max left you for a younger model. And what would Joel want with you if he had these two stalking his whereabouts wearing next to nothing?

“You know dear, Joel is a very mature man. He won’t fall for those girls, no matter how hard they try. Joel is… sensible.”

You stared at Mrs Adler. Huh? Did you think out loud or something?

“I’ve known that boy since he was two. His mama is a good friend of mine. He’s a good man. He was raised right. And I know that he has been paying attention to you my dear,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes.

“Oh, come on Mrs Adler, why would he want someone like me,” you pointed at your small baby bump, “instead of those hot student bodies? He’s just a man you know.”

“Darling, the way those girls talk about him, if he wanted them, he could’ve had them. All he had to do was ask. He doesn’t. I think you should give him a chance.”

“He has never asked me out or flirted with me, Mrs Adler. I think you’ve been thinking too much,” you joked, laughing to hide your blushes.

“Oh… I don’t know… his mama told me he hasn’t shut up about a certain tenant of his…” she said, winking at you. “Oh honey, I’m just messing with you,” she coaxed, seeing you blush. “But that boy is shy dear, he is not one to flirt with you outright, if he does ask, give him a chance. God knows that boy deserves a good woman… after what he’d been through…” she shook her head sadly, before going to get her stuff from the dryer.

Okay, you need to know what it was that he’d been through now. Maybe you’ll ask Maria.

---

That week, he dropped you off on campus every morning, and picked you up every night, Monday and Friday being the only exception. After the calamity that was the previous Friday night you made a point to leave by eight that Monday, worried that he might wait for you like he did then. But he wasn’t there. Although relieved, there was a small part of you that felt a bit disappointed, but you brushed it off. After Max, you couldn’t afford to fall for someone so quickly. Once bitten, twice shy. He was just your landlord, he was nice. He helped you out the way any decent man would. That’s all.

When you arrived at the apartment an hour later, he was just about to leave to get you. He looked a little disappointed that you were already there, but walked you up anyway, again, silently closing the door behind you. The next day, he made sure to ask you what time you plan on going back, and when you tried to protest he raised his eyebrows at you. So, you told him 9pm. You saw his truck in the parking lot by 830.

On Friday, Maria stayed back with you, both of you deciding to go to the library after work. You texted Joel telling him your plan, so that he could go to his mother’s without having to wait for you. To your shock, his truck was still there when Maria dropped you off. He was sitting at his usual spot in his t shirt and shorts, waiting for you. He stood up when you got there. Maria saw and hid a smile from you, but recovered by asking you if you’d like to go to the farmers market with her and Tommy the next day? They’ll pick you up at eight.

Joel walked you up as usual. You asked him why he’s not at his mom���s, and he just shrugged and said her foot was better, thank you for asking. He’ll see her over the weekend.

The next day, Joel was waiting for you in his truck, and not Maria. You two will meet them there, he said. The drive to the farmer’s market was quiet, but you had never felt awkward when in silence with Joel. He was that comforting to be around. When you got to the market, you were met by both Tommy and Maria, both grinning at the sight of the two of you together, Joel helping you out of the truck as usual. He took the tote you had brought and refused to give it back to you.

As the four of you went around the market, Joel walked silently beside you, his presence bringing you warmth. Anytime you purchased something, he would take the items off your hands and placed them in the bag, but not before trying to fight you off paying the vendor. Over the next hour, this became a joke for the both of you, each competing to pay for something you wanted to buy before the winner eventually pumped a victorious fist and the two of you laughing as if you had known each other forever. Without realising it, you two were standing closer and closer together, and he began placing his hand on the small of your back to lead you away from vendors once you were done shopping. Tommy and Maria walked hand in hand behind you, both exchanging meaningful looks and satisfied smiles with each other.

You stopped for brunch at the café near the market before going home. You and Joel had gotten comfortable enough to share a menu and lean into each other as you perused it, wondering what you wanted to eat. When the food arrived, the four of you ate and chatted. You were feeling so comfortable for the first time since you had moved in, and unthinkingly, you took a piece of fruit from Joel’s plate. Once the fruit had entered your mouth, you paused, horrified at what you just did, and turned to look at him, an apology on your lips. You looked across the table, and Maria was just beaming at you, Tommy smiling so brightly at Joel you thought his face was going to crack. When you turned to look at Joel again, he just had the biggest smile on his face, and he pushed the plate nearer to you, before spearing a piece of omelette from your plate onto his fork and ate it. All the while, he was looking at you with a smile, daring you to chastise him.

Of course you didn’t.

After the meal, the four of you walked back to the car, still chatting and laughing as if you had known each other forever. When you got to his truck, he opened the door for you, making sure you were sat and buckled, before moving to put the tote you had brought in the back seat.

“Joel”, a voice called out.

Joel turned and went stock still. A lady with blonde hair was standing a few feet away, a man holding the hand of a little girl behind her. The little girl looked to be about five years old, her eyes and hair a carbon copy of her father’s, clearly distracted by a toy she was holding in her other hand.

Joel didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He just stared. His eyes on the little girl and the man holding her hand, the man who was averting his eyes, looking annoyedly anywhere else but at Joel.

“How have you been?” the lady asked, her face nervous and unsure, her eyes flickering towards you.

Tommy and Maria reappeared, Maria going to the lady, and had a quiet but obviously heated discussion with her. Tommy took Joel by the shoulder and encouraged him to get back in the car. After some wild hand gestures from both ladies, Maria walked back to Joel’s truck, and the lady walked away, looking defeated. The man with her quickly handed the little girl to her, and turned away, his face unreadable.

After some quiet talks from Tommy, Joel started the engine and drove away.

It was as if someone had pushed the reset button on Joel. He shut down, hands gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles, his face tight, jaws clenched. You didn’t dare ask him anything, so you kept quiet. He didn’t speak at all, even as he pulled the door shut behind him after walking you up, placing the tote in your hands.

You spent Sunday morning cooking a big batch of your favourite meal. The small room had begun to feel like home to you, and cooking in the tiny kitchen made it even more so. You made enough for you to freeze and reheat over the week and decided to put several servings in a container to give to Joel. He did cook for you when you were sick, maybe it’s time you did something nice for him. He didn’t answer his door, so you placed the container on the doormat, hoping he would take it when he was available. Just as you turned around to leave, the door opened, so you quickly picked up the container to hand to him, but it wasn’t him at the door.

A kind-looking, older lady was there instead, and you just paused. She took one look at you, smiled, held her hand out to you and said,

“You must be Julia from 1A. Hi. Anita Miller. Come in! I’ve been dying to meet you.” She opened the door wider, and waited for you to come in.

“Sorry I was late answering the door,” she said, hobbling alongside you once you were inside. “My foot is still not 100%. Joel is at one of the apartments fixing something or other. Come sit, we can get to know each other,” she said, sitting down, patting the seat next to her.

You sat down and took in the apartment. You had never been to his apartment before. You realised quickly that it was nothing like yours, obviously renovated to create a bigger space for him. There seemed to be more than one bedroom, the place exceedingly clean for a bachelor pad. You understood now why Joel was so comfortable picking up after you that one time you were sick.

You and Anita chatted, getting to know one another. Her husband died about fifteen years prior, passing his construction business to Joel and Tommy to handle. They were young and made some mistakes trusting the wrong people. But they got back up, doing what they really wanted to do, using what skills they had learnt to supplement their incomes. She had a very proud mama look on her face when talking about the two. She had come to visit Joel after she had heard about the encounter at the farmer’s market. She planned on staying a few days, just to make sure Joel was fine.

You so wanted to ask her what that was about but didn’t want to seem nosy. She asked you about your pregnancy, reminiscing on when she was pregnant with her two boys while doing so. You liked her. She was very easy to talk to, but you couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that she was measuring you one way or another, and you couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or bad. Still, you found yourself telling her everything. It was the first time you did so. When it first happened, you told Maria and Frank the gist of it, and hadn’t had the energy to tell her anything more. Anita listened, and at the end, pulled you close to her, enveloping you in a hug.

The door opened, and you pulled yourself away from Anita’s hug. Joel walked in, a toolbox in his hand, his shirt and hair soaking wet. You guessed one of the young ladies showerheads had broken after all. He took a look at you and his mother on the couch, and turned slightly red. He muttered a quick hello before going into his bedroom, shutting the door gently behind him. You began to make excuses to leave, but Anita held your hand – don’t you dare, her eyes and raised eyebrows said, eerily like Joel’s. You took the container you had brought and suggested that you serve them lunch. Joel must be hungry.

Joel came out freshly showered and changed to his dining table set with lunch. He took a look at how you and his mama were talking easily to each other, his heart feeling fuller than it had been in years. He sat down, and the three of you ate, Anita complementing you on your cooking, Joel helping himself to a second serving, you and Anita talking about the little things going on in your lives.

Anita couldn’t help but look at her oldest boy, reading his minute body languages that she had known so well ever since he was in her belly. He was calm, relaxed. He didn’t say anything, but the silent looks he gave you told her everything. And this Julia from 1A, you seemed guarded, but somehow at the same time at ease with Joel. She liked you. You and Joel were quietly chancing looks at each other, something neither of you realised you were doing. But Anita saw. And she was happy about it. Tommy and Maria were not wrong, it seemed.

Mrs Adler came by after lunch, and the two older ladies went into the spare bedroom to catch up on their gossip. You helped Joel clean up, something that felt backwards to you. Max had never helped out in the kitchen. And you felt like you just saw a glimpse of the past that you hadn’t seen before. You thought back to the time Joel spent with you at the hospital, and remembered why you didn’t think of Max when the ultrasound session was going on. When your appendix burst a few years ago, Max only visited you for a few minutes every day, always having somewhere to be, important, money-making places. But you were the supporting girlfriend, so you didn’t mind.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Joel, asking you if you would join him for a walk. He had eaten a bit too much and needed one to avoid sleeping the evening away. Someone’s cooking was too good, he said, giving you a small wink. The two of you spent the next forty minutes or so walking around the area, you told him about your work and research, and in turn, he told you about the apartment building and his workshop. The Joel you saw back at the farmer’s market was back, it seemed. The two of you bantering and exchanging stories with each other, comfortably walking, shoulders brushing every now and again.

When you got back to the apartment, Mrs Adler was just leaving. You hugged Anita goodbye, feeling as if you had known her forever. She gave you a long and tight hug, telling you not to be a stranger. Joel walked you up as usual, but instead of silently shutting the door behind you, he took you by the wrist, and leaned in for a quick kiss on your cheek, thanking you for lunch. You kissed him back, also on the cheek, and asked him if he will drive you to work the next morning. His shyly nodded, his face blushing slightly, before turning around to leave.

You caught yourself smiling a lot for the rest of that day, even as you were mopping the floors, cleaning the bathroom, wiping the kitchen down. You felt silly, but you liked what you were feeling, just like a little girl with a crush. You went to bed smiling that night. You were still smiling when you got ready for work the next morning.

That was until, you looked at your feet in the shower and found the water red with blood from between your legs.

PART 3

[itgirlren]

This is the type of men that I like. Not that anybody asked but I wanted to share anyway.

[last-ticket-home]

watched x-men 97 WHY ARE THEY ALL HOT

[freebooter4ever]

You know, one thing ive been thinking about the whole keke's outfit thing...it continues to baffle me how the straight heterosexual view of women's 'attractiveness' STILL tends to equate scantily clad with 'availability' or 'asking for it' or 'putting it on display'. As if wearing something skimpy is what threatens the boyfriend's position as the only man who is allowed to be attracted to his girlfriend.

But like. And i cant speak for all women attracted to women here. But i KNOW i am not the only woman who watched nope, caught the VERY SUBTLE HINTS, and was immediately like 'oh she is the hottest thing ever I AM DEVOTED TO HER' because we are starved for lesbian characters just being allowed to exist and be attractive on screen without catering to the male gaze. Like the akira slide and motorcycle scenes? Sexy as hell. The little dancey thing to classic music? Sexy. Her general refusal to sit upright? Still hot. And she was doing it all in slightly butch but still extremely stylish clothing that basically covered everything. And i mean she was still the most attractive character on that screen the entire time, i probably missed half the movie because i was just watching her the whole time. And it had absolutely nothing to do with how little she was wearing.

Like yes keke herself also looked sexy in that dress/bodysuit that her boyfriend hated so much. But why is it THAT that makes him insecure? Why not the thousands of lesbian/bisexual girls who watched nope a few too many times just to daydream about dating a girl like emerald one day?

[viennakarma]

Funny Little Girl

Lewis Hamilton x Reader (+ daughter)

Summary: When Lewis' little girl gets sick while he's away, he starts contemplating.

Word count: 2.4k

Tags: female!reader, husband!Lewis, Dad!Lewis, fluff, little bit hurt/comfort, daughter is sick, Lewis is worried, hospital, not beta read

Relationship: Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Note: I wrote this in a spur of the moment at 2 am last night, no beta we die like men. It was genuinely supposed to be a blurb but my brain took over and ran with it. (Once again in my girl dad!Lewis agenda)

Feedback and comments are appreciated xx

Find me on Twitter!

Lewis was restless.

He hadn’t spoken to you since the morning, and usually, by this time you would’ve already texted him a good morning message or even a silly lazy picture.

He knew, obviously with him being away on a race weekend, it was natural that the time difference stood between you, but this time he wasn’t too far from home, just a few hours ahead, so he found it strange that you hadn’t texted him yet. He left a couple messages for you again, but they were only delivered. He tried to call once but it rang and you never picked up.

Then an hour or so later, when he was in the middle of a meeting, he got a call from you, a FaceTime call. Worried, he immediately interrupted the meeting, asking for a ten minute break and scurried off to his room.

He picked up as soon as he closed the door behind himself. On the screen, he could see you, still in your sleeping clothes, and Ivy was on your lap. Lewis stared at his daughter and from one single look he could tell she was not looking well.

“Hi, love. Sorry I didn’t answer your texts earlier…” You said first thing.

“What happened?” Lewis frowned.

“Ivy woke up a little under the weather today. She’s a little feverish.”

He looked at his daughter on the screen again, she wasn’t paying attention to him, her eyes red rimmed like she had been crying, in her hands, tightly held was Brendon the Kraken, her favorite plush toy, and her blankie. She had a beanie on and a pacifier. She was looking at the TV, not minding him or her mom.

“How’s she doing? Are you thinking of taking her to the hospital?” He asked, his heart tightening in his chest.

“Not yet, I think the fever might go down soon. If it doesn’t then I’ll take her to see the doctor,” you explained, rubbing Ivy’s shoulder as she snuggled up to you and Lewis wished he was home with you and Ivy, taking care of his little girl who was just a little under three, “how is everything going? Ready for the race later?”

Lewis bit back a comment of how he just wanted to go home to his wife and to his baby girl. How he wanted to snuggle up with Ivy on the couch with lots of blankets to keep her warm while watching silly cartoons. But instead, he smiled a little and talked about the race for a minute. He knew that if you knew he was sad, you were gonna be sad too, so he just pretended everything was fine and his heart wasn’t broken for being away from his family.

Ivy was a toddler, and he was aware toddlers were a little under the weather all the time and it usually wasn’t that big of a deal. Hell, he had been home a couple of times when his daughter had a little cold before. But every time it happened when he was away, it ripped his heart apart just the same.

“Will you keep me updated on Ivy?” He asked, looking at your sweet face on the screen.

“Of course, and if I take too long to reply, don’t rip your hair off with worry, okay?” You said with a fond smile. You gently nudged Ivy, pulling her pacifier out, “look, baby, say hi to daddy…”

Ivy looked at the screen, and her little lips turned into a pout, her eyes watering.

“Daddy! Want daddy!” She said, starting to cry as she made grabby hands to the screen.

Lewis felt like his heart was being torn open with a jackhammer, the pleading look in Ivy’s eyes, wanting comfort from her daddy and him being a couple of countries away, unable to teleport to her side to hold her.

“Shhh, it’s okay, love, daddy is coming home soon, isn’t he?” You said, trying to comfort your daughter, but she kept crying, fat tears wetting her chubby cheeks.

“I’m going home soon, sweetheart, I promise. Daddy’s gonna be there soon,” he said through the screen, but Ivy only seemed to grow even more agitated, her cries louder. He knew the fact that she was sick was probably playing a part in making her big emotions come out. He tried more comforting words, but both Ivy was agitated and you were trying to comfort as best as you could.

Lewis watched the screen for a few more seconds, swallowing a painful lump in his throat, seeing his daughter’s urgency in having him closer, her big brown eyes wet with tears and the grabby hands towards him as if he could just go home through the screen and pick her up in his arms.

“Sorry, love,” you said, picking up Ivy and she cried against your shoulder, “I’ll hang up to calm her down, okay? I’ll keep you updated.”

“If anything, anything really happens you can call me anytime.” He said, hearing your little whimpering through the screen, “love you two.”

“We love you, Lewis,” you blew him a quick kiss and hung up.

Lewis stared at the black screen for a long time, not really looking, just remembering the look on his little girl’s face as she wanted him close. He swallowed a couple times more, and he decided to text his dad and stepmom to go check on you and Ivy if they had some free time back home.

He went back to his pre-race meeting with a pit in his stomach. He had to make an herculean effort to be present on the race weekend and not let his mind wander back to you and Ivy. He checked a few more texts, and you kept him updated every once in a while. First telling him you got Ivy to eat something, then you sent him a picture of Ivy taking a nap on your chest, and she looked a little better, but you told him she was still a little feverish, but luckily her temperature hadn’t gone up.

Before going to the race, he warned one of the team’s assistants to keep a close eye on his phone, knowing you’d still be sending him updates on your daughter.

He finished the race P4, which wasn’t a bad finishing position but as soon as he was out of the car, he was thinking of Ivy again. When he checked his phone, your last text had been before the race started, a quick selfie wishing him good luck, but after that, there was not a single text from you, and he started worrying all over again.

“If my wife calls or texts, I need you to interrupt anything I’m doing and get the phone to me, okay? No matter what,” he said to the assistant, handing his phone again before going out to the post race interviews.

He was only half-heartedly replying during the interviews, worried that the assistant had not gone to him not even one moment, which could only mean you had not called yet.

Once the interviews were done, he went back to the assistant to check on his phone and he saw three missed calls from you and two from his dad. His stomach instantly dropped.

“I said to get the phone to me if my wife called,” He looked at the assistant who looked like a deer in the headlights.

“I tried, Lewis! The PR lady didn’t even let me through the door. I told her it was your wife and an emergency, but…” The guy defended himself, pointing to the F1 PR coordinator, who looked at Lewis with wide eyes.

“You don’t ever do that again, understood? My family is my priority and you shouldn’t have interfered when he was under explicit orders to find me as soon as my wife called.” Lewis said, he was calm but his voice was firm and left no room for questioning. The woman only nodded, spurting some excuse and apology.

He barely waved her off before finding a secluded little room to check his phone. In the texts, you had warned him that Ivy got worse and you were taking her to the hospital. He immediately called your phone but it went straight to voicemail. He tried a couple more times before trying his dad, who luckily picked up.

“Dad? Where are they?” He said.

“I brought your girls to the hospital, they put Ivy in a room and the doctor is checking her up now. We’re in the waiting room now, so as soon as I have any news, I’ll let you know. Your wife’s phone died, so it’s probably best to talk to me.”

Lewis exhaled, still feeling nervous but a little more comforted that you weren’t alone with Ivy in a moment like this.

“Can you send me the address of the hospital? I’m going straight there. And please, keep me updated.”

After hanging up, Lewis immediately went to find the team to let them know his daughter was sick and he needed to get home as soon as possible, rescheduling the post-race debriefing. He didn’t even get back to the hotel, since he had his suitcase with him at the paddock, he just called his connections and got himself a helicopter back home.

He arrived at the hospital you and Ivy were in a couple of hours later, going straight inside and finding his dad in the waiting room, chatting with a nurse. He hugged his dad, who told him you were inside with Ivy, and the nurse took Lewis and Anthony there.

Lewis entered the room where you were, sitting before the hospital bed, and Ivy was lying on the bed, holding her plushie with one hand and holding her mom’s hand with the other. She looked the same as she had in the FaceTime call that morning. 

“Daddy!” Ivy squealed, and Lewis rushed inside, hugging her tightly, careful minding the IV drip in her arm. She smelled the same as always, baby shampoo and home. Lewis inhaled into her curly hair and kissed her cheek.

“Hi, baby… I’m sorry dad took too long to arrive. How is my baby girl doing?” He asked, gently putting her down on the bed, but she grasped his coat as if to stop him from leaving again. He leaned over the bed and pecked your cheek, “Hi, my love…”

You quickly explained to Lewis that that doctor had checked on Ivy and you were waiting for him to bring the results in. Lewis comforted Ivy for a moment, before walking around the bed to hug you. You looked tired, and he imagined you had spent the whole day dealing with a sick, fussy toddler.

“Have you eaten today?” He asked, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“In the morning,” You mutter, closing your eyes for a moment, enjoying the gentle caress of his knuckles on your cheeks.

“Wanna go home to rest and eat while I stay here with Ivy?” He offered, despite already knowing your reply.

“Of course not, I’m not leaving her side,” You said, rolling your eyes and he smiled.

“Dad, will you take my lovely wife to the cafeteria and make sure she eats something?” Lewis said to his dad, who was still chatting with Ivy. He immediately accepted, and Lewis removed his own coat, putting it around you, “We’ll wait here, okay?”

You nodded and left with Anthony just as Lewis turned to Ivy.

“Are you feeling cold, baby?” He asked the little girl, who looked fussy and sleepy, rubbing her eyes as she nodded.

Ivy made grabby hands, whispering for Daddy, and Lewis got into the hospital bed with her, pulling her to lay on his chest as he adjusted the blankets around her. Her skin was still warm to the touch, and he held her close, wrapping both arms around his little girl while she spoke about her day, whining about her day and about being sick. She was always extra clingy when he came back from his trips.

Lewis gently played with her curls while she spoke, muttering his uh-hu, and yeah, and his of course, baby, until she started slurring out the words and slowly falling asleep.

He smiled, despite the worry, he was glad to be there finally, to be with his wife and daughter.

When you came back to the room, Ivy was sleeping against Lewis’ chest just like she used to do as a newborn, Lewis gently rubbing her back and getting drool in his shirt. You handed him a coffee, and he drank without moving a muscle so as to not wake up your little girl.

The doctor came a few minutes later, checking on Ivy and making sure she was fine and the fever was subsiding, he said it was just a little cold and prescribed a couple of meds.

Lewis carried your little girl to the car seat, while you hugged Anthony goodbye and thanked him profusely for keeping you company when you were going to the hospital earlier. After that, you went home driving, Lewis in the passenger seat.

Arriving home, Lewis carried Ivy to her little bed, tucking her in and touching her forehead to make sure the fever was really gone. When he returned to the bedroom, you had taken a quick shower and was dressed in soft, comfortable pajamas.

“How are you, love?” He asked as you walked lazily up to him and he wrapped his arms around your mirror, pulling you into his chest.

“Just a little tired…” You mumbled, and he pecked your lips, walking you back towards the bed.

“Thank you for taking care of her today, love. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there for most of it…” He whispered affectionately into your skin.

“It’s okay, you had work… I’m glad you came straight home to us.” You muttered as he placed you in bed, tucking you in.

“I love you,” He tugged your hand and kissed your knuckles.

He let you fall asleep while he took a quick shower too, changing into PJs before going to check on Ivy again. The doctor had assured that the medicine would take her out for the night, but she’d be totally better the following morning.

When he got in bed with you again, pulling you closer, his arm around your middle, his leg between yours and your face pressed into his chest, he finally breathed. He had been tense the whole day from being away from you and Ivy, worry gnawing at him, and guilt for being away in moments like these. Not only tough moments like this, but also the happy ones. He wondered what else he’d miss of Ivy growing up, and he had missed so much already.

That was the first time he truly contemplated retirement. 

[mrsshabana]

This request can go on the back burner, but an idea struck me with the force of a ton of bricks when I say your post about incel Gyutaro.

What about a little story where Gyutaro is trying to join a fraternity, to impress girls, and it's hazing time~ They make the pledges strip down to their boxers and wear blindfolds. The frat guys got a bunch of pretty girls together to write on their bodies with washable markers. Compliments or insults. The one with the most compliments from different girls joins tonight, and the one with the least has to walk home in his underwear. The others just get their clothes back and can stay at the party.

Reader is heartbroken by the amount of insults on Gyutaro's body with no compliments. So she puts on red lipstick and kisses all of his birthmarks! And writes in the lipstick. He's still losing, but he definitely won't mind as much anymore. Also, I feel like this is a mouthful if you don't wanna post my ask, itself, that's fine.

𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐥 𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

꒦꒷‧₊ Summary Gyutaro thinks joining a fraternity will help him impress girls, but it results in him getting hazed and utterly humiliated. Though you end up making it all worth it. Maybe it did help him impress girls after all. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, smut, MDNI, incel Gyutaro, college au, angst, humiliation, hazing, vaginal sex, creampie, premature ejaculation ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 2.6k words. THIS MIGHT BE THE BEST ASK I'VE SEEN ALL YEAR. I KID YOU NOT - AS SOON AS I SAW THIS I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT IT EVERY MOMENT SINCE. This ended up being some of my best writing, thank you so much for this request ♡

You've seen some crazy shit since you've joined a sorority but nothing quite like this. It's nothing new that the fraternity guys on Greek row like holding strange events and wild parties. But you never thought they'd invite you and some of your fellow sorority members over to haze some rookies.

A line of almost naked men stand before you, blindfolded and in nothing but their boxers. You and the other girls are tasked with writing comments about their appearance on their bodies with a marker. Compliments or insults, both are encouraged.

Most of them just look like your everyday frat boy, with lots of them having abs and large muscles. The only one that stands out is the guy at the end. You can already tell he doesn't belong in this crowd by how pale he is. Not spending the summer drinking beers at the lake and getting a nice tan? Who the hell is this guy? He looks like the type that stays inside all day playing video games and watching hentai.

And that's not all - his body stands out in many other ways as well. He's really skinny and his hip bones protrude in an unnatural way. Not to mention the large ink-like birthmarks that are scattered across his body.

However, even though he looks different, you don't have a negative impression of him. All you thought when you first saw him was, "Huh, that guy doesn't look like the kind of guy to join a frat."

As you go down the line you write nice comments on each man's body, not having the heart to write anything negative and possibly hurt someone's feelings. You always felt bad for the guys that get hazed so you could never bring yourself to make it worse for them. However, when you get to the skinny guy, you are utterly shocked by what you see.

Littered all over his body are mean and cruel insults. You felt sick to your stomach as you read them.

"Disgusting"

"Freak"

"Incel"

"Virgin"

One girl even wrote, "Ew, why are you even here?" while another wrote, "I rather die than sleep with you lol."

You understand that he has an unconventional appearance but it certainly does not warrant all of these hateful comments. It breaks your heart to see that not even a single girl has said something nice about him.

You can't even imagine the amount of courage it must have taken him to stand up here like this. Only to get shot down and made fun of? You won't stand for it.

He flinches as he feels your delicate, manicured hands touch his chest. Then he feels something creamy and soft glide along his body, it feels different from the markers he's felt so far.

You decide to write some nice comments in your favorite red lipstick.

"So hot!"

"Cutie ;)"

But you feel like it isn't enough so you put a layer of the vibrant shade on your lips, then begin to kiss the birthmarks on his body.

His breath hitches and his face turns red when he feels you kiss him. Starting with his cheek and going all the way down to the mark on his hip. Everyone stares at you with confused faces as they watch you adore the "ugliest" guy in the lineup. But honestly, you don't care, you think he's hot as hell.

However, you feel like it's not enough so you write, "CALL ME!" in large letters on his chest followed by your phone number.

As all of the girls finish up leaving their comments for the guys, they are finally allowed to take off their blindfolds and read the messages on their bodies.

When he removes his blindfold you can't help but smile seeing how cute he is, and not to mention those beautiful blue eyes.

The self-proclaimed leader of the hazing committee, Tengen Uzui, reads the comments out loud.

Of course, the insults on Gyutaro's body sting. Especially since they are so harsh and he received a lot more than everyone else. But the bright red compliments are what's keeping him afloat. Almost making him not give a fuck about what any of the other girls had to say. Of course, there is a part of him that thinks this could be a cruel trick to get his hopes up. But honestly, after going so many years without a girl even looking in his direction, he can't help but get excited. After all, this is the first time he's ever gotten a girl's phone number.

He looks around the room, trying to see who the culprit could be. There are a few girls wearing red lipstick so he's not entirely sure who it could be.

"Looks like you'll be walking home, Gyutaro!" Tengen announced loudly, "And I'll be keeping these!" He laughs as he snatches Gyutaro's clothes - forcing him to walk home shamefully in nothing but his boxers.

He feels a wave of embarrassment wash over him as everyone stares and laughs. Just wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible, he nods and walks towards the door.

"Wait!" You shout as you run towards him, taking off your shirt and jeans. Once you're down to your bra and panties you say, "Let's go together."

His eyes widen as he looks you up and down, his face as red as a tomato. The party goes completely silent, the girls stare at you with confusion and a hint of disgust. While the guys stare at Gyutaro with envy, wishing that they were in his place.

"Well, come on," you say, breaking the silence.

Gyutaro gives you a shaky nod and opens the door for you, following you out.

Once outside the frat house, he really doesn't know what to say, at a complete loss for words. A half-naked girl is walking home with him right now, and not just any girl, you're a solid ten.

His perverted self may be too focused on your appearance right now, but a part of him does recognize how nice it was of you to do that for him so he didn't feel so embarrassed. You literally took off your clothes so you could endure his hazing punishment with him. No one's ever been so kind to him before - especially not a woman.

He keeps looking at your tits, trying not to be obvious about it but he can't help himself. He loves boobs!! He always has and he's never been so close to them before. Honestly, it's a miracle he isn't sporting a massive hard-on right now. The cold breeze hitting his exposed skin is the only thing keeping it at bay.

"Um... thanks," he rasps quietly, barely mustering the courage to speak to you at all, "What's your name?"

"Oh, my name's Y/N. And don't mention it," you smile, "No one deserves to be treated that way."

"... so you did it out of pity?" he frowns.

"Not at all! I-I didn't mean it like that!"

"Then what did you mean?"

"Well... I think you're really cute. Nerdy shy guys like you have always been my type," you express your feelings with a hint of embarrassment, "And just because you don't look like the other guys doesn't mean that warrants bullying."

Gyutaro blushes deeply, too shy and flattered to respond. So you continue.

"Don't join the frat, Gyutaro. You won't be happy there, they'll just make you an outcast because you're different. I really hope you change your mind about it." You hope your words won't offend him, but it's the honest truth. A guy like him doesn't belong in a frat and deep down he knows that.

Gyutaro hates everyone in that frat, he finds them annoying and idiotic. He only wanted to join in the first place because he's so desperate to get laid and he knows those types of guys pull chicks left and right.

"Alright, I won't join. But only if you have sex with me," he states with a confidence he hasn't had all night.

"Wh-what?!" You gasp, almost certain you must not have heard him correctly.

"I only wanted to join that stupid fraternity to get laid. You're the first girl that's ever been interested in me. So if you sleep with me then I'll know I can get laid without needing the frat."

At a loss for words, you stare at him with wide eyes as the two of you stand outside of his dorm building.

You're no saint, so sex isn't something you aren't used to. But you also wouldn't consider yourself the type to sleep with a guy you barely know either. This is still weird for you. But is it too weird for you?

Obviously not because you feel butterflies form in your stomach and a moistness develop in your panties as you think about it. He is really cute, and he does have a point. If you sleep with him maybe it will boost his confidence. And who knows, maybe after tonight you could get closer to him. Being a virgin and all, he doesn't seem like the type to just dip and skip.

"Ok, you have a deal," you smile shyly and take his hand, "This is your dorm building right?"

His jaw drops, not expecting you to have agreed. "Y-Yeah," he stutters.

"Let's hurry before anyone catches us!" Dragging him inside, the two of you sneak up to his room without being noticed.

Once inside you get clear confirmation that Gyutaro is the exact kind of guy you thought he was. Clothes and empty energy drink cans were strewn about his room. The air smells like a mix of body odor and G Fuel. On his desk is a nice looking PC gaming setup. Equip with neon lights and an RTX 3090. And you aren't surprised to see a bottle of lotion on his desk. And beside it is an nsfw figurine of some anime character that looks vaguely similar to you. Maybe you are his type after all.

Gyutaro doesn't bother cleaning up or even apologizing for the mess, it's like he doesn't even care. He just turns on some colored lights and sits on the bed. Now that he's out of the cold and inside the comfort of his own dorm, you can see his erection quickly growing under his boxers.

"Well? Don't tell me you're gonna chicken out now," he scowls.

"No! I'm not chickening out! I'm actually really excited..." you sit beside him and caress his thigh.

Immediately you can see his member twitch beneath the thin fabric of his boxers. He had this nonchalant act going on, but now it's crumbling down and he's a complete mess.

"C-Can I touch them?" he mutters as he stares down at your chest.

"Sure, let me help you," you say as you unhook your bra and throw it to the side. His eyes widen and he has to stop himself from drooling.

Like instinct, his hands go to your breasts and he starts feeling and playing with them. It's obvious he's never done this before because his hands are shaky and he's handling them roughly. But he's just so excited!

"Woah," he says in awe, "These are awesome..."

Even though he's a bit rough and inexperienced, it still feels good. The way his bony fingers squeeze and prod, along with how he runs his fingers over your nipples with curiosity.

"Gyutaro..." you whisper as you caress his cheek and pull him closer, "Come here." Pulling him into a heated kiss, it's obvious he doesn't know what to do. But you try your best to guide him.

He whimpers into the kiss as you slide your tongue into his mouth. He tries to reciprocate but he's quite sloppy.

Despite that, it still sends him to cloud nine. Not only is this his first kiss but he also gets to touch tits at the same time. It's so overwhelming for him that he feels like he's already going to cum.

Hastily shoving his hand down his boxers, he grabs the base of his cock and squeezes tightly - desperately trying to stop himself from cumming. He pulls away from the kiss and says, "T-Take off your panties, I-I wanna fuck you already."

With a devious smirk, you spread your legs as you remove your panties, showing him how wet you are. Gyutaro gulps, staring at you like a starving animal.

"I'm ready for you, Gyu," you coo as you lay on your back, completely submitting to him.

"Wait um... can we try doggy style?"

You're kind of surprised by his request but you don't mind so you flip over and get on your hands and knees.

Gyutaro would actually love to watch your face contort as he fucks you, but he chose doggy style because he doesn't want you to see him while he does it. Even after everything you've said to him his insecurities are still there. And a part of him fears that if you see his dick then you'll change your mind about this. He's not the biggest, but he definitely isn't small either. The size is actually really nice, but he's so insecure that he can't see that. But the worst part is the birthmarks, he feels like his dick looks like he has some type of venereal disease even though he doesn't. So he figures it'd be best if you just didn't see it at all.

Once you're in the doggy position he feels comfortable enough to pull down his boxers. You feel the sticky, leaking tip nudge against you as he positions himself.

His brows furrow in frustration as he tries to find the right spot, his inexperience showing.

"Here, let me help you," you say in a sweet tone as to not upset him or sound judgmental. Though he's still a bit embarrassed anyway.

Reaching between your legs, you grasp his shaft and gently guide him inside of you. Once he's an inch or two inside, he gets too excited and fully thrusts forward. Jolting his needy cock into your gummy walls. You yelp in response while Gyutaro moans loudly.

"F-Fuck... ngh Y/N, you feel so goddamn good," he groans in pleasure as he tightens his grasp on your hips.

After a moment of stillness, he starts thrusting when he feels like he won't cum immediately. But it's not long before that sensation comes back.

Only after a few thrusts, do you feel a warmth spread inside of you as you feel Gyutaro's thighs begin to shake.

"Did you- did you cum?" Surprised, you look back at him to see the blissful expression on his face.

But your words quickly snap him out of it, "Shit... m'sorry," he pants, obviously feeling ashamed and embarrassed, "I-I didn't mean to cum so fast."

He quickly shoves his dick back in his boxers, trying to hide his shame as he hangs his head and refuses to look you in the eye. The only chance he got to have sex, he ruined it by cumming too fast like the incel that everyone says he is. He looks down at the writing on his body, starting to feel like all of those insults from earlier are justified.

Seeing the shift in his mood, you quickly put your panties back on and hug him. "Hey it's ok, it was your first time. That just means we'll have to do it more so you can get used to it."

"R-Really? You don't think I'm pathetic...?" he whimpers in disbelief.

"Of course not, I still had a lot of fun," you smile and kiss his cheek, "Maybe I can stay the night and we can try again in the morning."

"I'd fucking love that."

[rosenclaws]

obsessed with your ex || Worst!Logan Howlett smut

summary: In his world you were his wife and he loved you and then you died. In this world you're his girlfriend and he loves you. At least you think he does. Still you can't help the voice in the back of your head telling you that you're nothing but a sad replacement.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI!! 18+ ONLY. insecure + jealous!reader, a very very toxic mindset, the reader's mind is very mean to her, reader is a mutant that can make objects disappear, angst, happy ending, rough sex, riding, french kissing, oral (f!receiving), a slight breakdown, soft sex, missionary, Logan is kinda a softie, cockwarming, fingering.

wc: 2.5k

a/n: Okay so it's here!! I need to make this clear that the readers mindset is NOT healthy and that relationships need good communication. That being said here's my fic idea that I've been thinking about for a bit. I love Olivia Rodrigo sm (I even saw her in concert!!) and this song was just begging to be written into a fic. Anyways I really hope you like it and that it's not too insane lmao. Also i made the graphic but i kinda hate it but i dont wanna change it so here we are I know it's ugly but its FINE

How long have you been here? Staring. Observing every little thing about you. Your nose, your eyes, your lips, your hair, your chin. The way your arms fall by your sides. Every. Little. Detail.

Did she have the same colored eyes? Did she talk like you? Was she smart? Was she powerful? Did he look at her the same way? Did he fuck her like he fucks you?

You clench your fists as you stare angrily at the mirror. He loves you. He says he loves you and yet it feels like you can never compare to her. She was the love of his life. She was an X-Men. She died. She was you. You're his dead fucking wife in his universe while you were nothing to the Logan in this one. 

He looked at you like a kicked puppy that first day you met. A lost little pet that had been searching for its owner. Dragged through hell and back just to get to you. It was easy to fall for him. Handsome, a little rough around the edges. You hadn’t even been dating for that long but it didn’t matter right? He worshiped you. He loved you. He promised he loved you.

But sometimes in the back of your head you wonder if when he's kissing you, does he imagine her? Does he close his eyes while he's pounding into you and imagine it's her? How could you ever compete? She was perfect, she was kind, she was everything to him. Spiraling deeper and deeper into a whirlpool of doubt and envy. There's a heavy pounding on the door but you choose to ignore it. Too wrapped up in your twisted mind to care. 

"Sweetheart, let me in." Logan's gruff voice was slightly muffled by the door. 

You clench your jaw as you finally tear your eyes away from the mirror. You slam open the door taking Logan by surprise. His eyes scan yours for injury, a worried look in his face as he steps into the bathroom. 

"I got worried, you were in here a long time." His arms wrap around your waist. 

He's looking at you with pity. At least that's what your brain tells you. Was he worried that you were hurt because he loves you or because he was thinking of her death again? You know he still dreams of her. He can hide it when he's awake but the nightmares don't lie. It hurts so bad. Love me. Love me. You're jealous you know. She's dead, she's gone. So why can't he love you. You push him off and storm out the bathroom. Nothing makes sense anymore in your head. 

"What the fuck?" Logan follows you and you feel yourself tensing up. 

It's a miracle your powers haven't started to go haywire yet. So many different emotions swirl around in your head until it mixes together to form one single feeling.

Need.

You grab Logan's shirt and pull him into you. Smashing your lips onto his with a hunger that you've never felt before. Logan hisses as you bite his bottom lip harshly but you don't give him time to say anything as you slip your tongue into his mouth. He groans as he starts to take some control back. Hands slipping up your shirt and ripping to shreds with ease.

You pull back from his lips, chest heaving for air as you paw at his shirt. Silently demanding he take it off which he happily does. Your lips are back onto his in an instant. He slowly walks you back until you fall onto the bed. You fall onto the bed and lick your lips. The bugle in his pants is evident as you flick your hand and the belt disappears. 

"I liked that belt." You pay no mind to his comment as you unbutton his jeans and pull them down, leaving him in his boxers. 

"Easy there sweetheart," Logan pushes you back gently and crawls on top of you. Logan kisses down your chest, teasing each nipple with his tongue. 

"Let me take my time." He purrs.

His hands touch and squeeze your breasts roughly making you whine. You watch his arms move, god he's so hot. He's close to making you forget. He kisses down, down, all the way down. He sneaks out the tip of his claws to pop open the button of your pants and he yanks them down until they're all the way off.

"There she is, my perfect girl." His girl. That's right your his girl. No one else's.

Logan pulls your panties to the side as he situates himself between your legs. He stuffs his face without shame, licking hungrily and practically moaning at the taste. You arch your back as Logan devours you. Watching his back muscles move are mesmerizing. He's yours. He loves you. He promises he does.

You can't stop the thoughts that begin to invade you. Overwhelmed by pleasure from Logan and pain from the horrible ideas that pop into your head. Did he do this with her too? Did he worship her? Do you taste like her? Is that why he can't get enough? 

"Fuck!" You hiss as you sit up and tell Logan to stop. He does immediately, wondering what the hell is going on. 

"Can't fucking wait." You scratch down his chest with your nails. He groans and tries to crawl on top of you but you shake your head. 

"I'm going to ride you until you can't come anymore." You growl.

You bite his shoulder harshly making him hiss. It heals right up much to your dismay. How badly you wish you could mark him. You make his boxers disappear but before he can make a smart comment you sink down on him all the way. You whimper as you start to bounce on his cock. Loving how much he fills you.

You need to be fucked stupid. You're desperate for Logan to fuck every bad thought out of your head. To promise that he loves you so that you can believe him. You want to believe him. Please, you have to believe him. 

"Sweetheart." Logan's breath is labored as you relentlessly fuck yourself on his cock. You feel so damn good but fuck he can tell something is on your mind. 

"What do you need, let me help you." He sits up on his hands, placing one on your back as he tries to get you to slow down. His words make you want to scream. What do you need? You look at him and the only thing your rotten brain can tell you is that he is thinking of her. 

"I need you to fucking love me!" You yell.

The dam of built up feelings breaks down as tears pour out of your eyes. Ugly, horrible sobs that make your body shake. Logan watches with horror in his eyes as he stills your hips, using his strength to lift you off of him as you continue to cry. 

"I do love you." He says softly but you shake your head. 

"No!" You shout. You pound your fist against Logan's chest over and over again but he barely moves. 

"You love her! I know you do." Logan's heart breaks at the sound of your sobs. 

"I'm not your dead fucking wife Logan!" You should regret the words coming out of your mouth but you can't stop them. 

"You look at me and you see her. Like I'm just some fucking placeholder!" You let out an anguished scream as Logan captures your wrists in his hands. You know the stories. She was a hero, she was perfect in every single way. 

"How can I compete with, with her?" You say completely defeated.

Your head falls against his chest. There's a sense of relief that washes over you. Thoughts that have plagued you for months are finally out in the open. Yet the fear of what comes next overtakes any other feeling.

"Look at me." Logan tilts your head up but you push his hand away. 

"Sweetheart." He sighs and lets go of your face.

Logan's never been good at this. Talking. Being vulnerable. Then he lost everything and he hardened even more and he just. This was a new chance at life and even though it's hard he can't lose it all again. 

"I know you're not her. Of course I do." Logan presses his forehead against yours, trying to get you to look at him. 

"You loved her..." You croak out. 

"I did love her. She was my wife. But I love you too. In a different way." He's a different man. Having gone through tremendous loss. It shaped him into who he is now. 

"You're different people. Your powers act differently, you talk differently, you feel different. You are not a replacement." He says firmly. 

When you finally look at him he feels this horrible pit in his stomach. He wipes away your tears but doesn't make any other move. It's not the right time.

"Would you have even given me a second thought? If I didn't look like her?" You ask, that question has haunted you for a while now but you never asked, too afraid of the answer. Logan is silent, unsure of how to answer. 

"When I first saw you it was like a punch in the face." He starts. "For a moment I was 20 years in the past. Then I snapped out of it. You look like her, yes but you’re not her.” He gently traces a small scar on your jaw that you got when you were a child. 

“I’m not the same as your Logan right? He was a leader, a hero and I was an angry drunk murderer.” 

“I’m not gonna start listing all your fucking differences sweetheart, but I swear on my life that I love you for you.” He pulls you into a tight hug as you start to cry again. You cling onto him as tight as you can. The bad thoughts don’t just stop, even if you want them to but Logans whispering sweet words in your ear. Pushing out every bad thought for now.

“Logan,” You take a deep breath, letting Logan invade all your senses. Tobacco and whiskey. 

“I need you.” He’s hesitant, not sure if it’s the right time.

“Please, I just need you.”

“Okay sweetheart, you have me.” He slowly rolls you over and lays you on your back.

He captures your lips into a kiss. His hips rolling slowly making you moan softly. His lips drift from your lips to the corner of your mouth to your cheek, trailing down. Each one so gentle, so full of love.

“You have this spot, righttt here.” Logan nibbles on your neck and you gasp when bites right at this spot that drives you wild. You melt into the mattress as he kisses over it.

“Always makes you relax.” He crawls lower, kissing down your body. He sits up on his knees and grabs a pillow to place under your back.

“I know you like to be slightly elevated because it means I can go just a little deeper.” He purrs as he takes his cock in his hands and gently rubs the tip of it along your folds. He slides two fingers into your cunt slowly.

“Know that my fingers drive you absolutely wild, that you need me to go slow to start.” You nod absentmindedly.

You never realized he picked up on all these things. His fingers start to slide in smoother, your cunt getting wetter for him. He leans down and takes a deep breath, groaning at the scent. He slips them out and licks them clean.

“Relax sweetheart,” He spreads your thighs and slips in all the way. Going slow but unrelenting, stretching you just how you like.

“So impatient, you never let me take it easy on you right? Just wanna be full all the time.” He leans down on his elbows as he rolls his hips nice and slow.

There will be no rough sex this time, this is about love. To show you that he truly does love you for you.

“Look at me,” He tilts your head so that your eyes meet. He smiles at the desperate look on your face.

“You can pretend it makes you all embarrassed, but I know you like eye contact.” He hums as he angles his hips so that he hits that perfect spot.

You jolt as pleasure rocks through your whole body but he keeps you under him. He’s slowly and methodically tearing you apart. Every touch, every word out of his mouth just makes it better. He knows. Of course he does.

“I love you Logan.” Your hands cup his face as you stare into his hazel eyes.

This time not filled with lust, but with a true deep love. He looks at you like you’re everything.

“I love you too.” He kisses you as he starts to pick up the pace of his thrusts. He smirks as he feels you start to squirm under him. You could never help it when you were close.

“Come on sweetheart, just let go.” He whispers in your ear.

His deep voice paired with the unrelenting feeling of his cock is all it takes. He holds you in his firm arms as a warm and wonderful tingling sensation runs through your whole body. A blissful smile on your face as you tilt your head back.

You feel your whole body relax as your mind calms. Logan tries to hide his growls as he fucks into you a little faster, until he’s coming hard and deep inside of you. He sighs in contentment as he stays inside of you. He taps your cheek lightly and you look up at him.

“I love you. No one else. Just you.” He moves to pull out but you whine. You need to be close to him right now. He chuckles as he slowly moves to your side. Spooning you tightly with his cock still deep inside of you.

“Can we talk?” You ask shyly.

“About what?” Logan grunts as he pulls you as close as he can get you.

“Anything?” He’s not much of a talker so he asks the questions instead.

How did you discover your powers? How did you meet wade? Just anything and everything and you tell him.

You talk for who knows how long. Staying wrapped in each other's arms. It helps, it really does. Logan listens, he really does listen. He wants to get to know you. He loves you. You rest your head on his chest, tracing shapes into his palm as you talk.

For the first time in a while your mind seems to settle. Ignoring any thought that may try and ruin your mood. It’s just you and him right now. There’s no looming figure of your alternate selves, not anymore.

Just you and Logan. Forever.

[suiana]

imagine sitting on a train, expecting a short ride but the ride just never ends. and no, it's not a 'the brakes are broken' scenario.

you were just taking a train to like, a nearby suburb to visit your friends like usual. everything was fine. all things were like what they normally were. ticketing station, the weird old man who tells you that they're watching you, and the cute highschool student who frequently tells you stories about his school life.

you board the train like usual, nothing out of the ordinary. you find an empty seat and put on your earphones. you decide you want a calm and soothing song that day. looking out of the window, you hum softly and anticipate what you and your friends are going to do.

that's when you realize you've seen that sign post two times already.

you nervously look around your surroundings, hoping to find someone else who's also realized what's going on.

but there's no one else in the carriage. oh, wait, actually no. you also have the highschool boy.

"hey kid, um, did you notice anything off? like uh-"

"hm? oh, it's you mx."

the boy's voice is deeper than usual as he continues looking out of the window. you frown at his reaction before trying to get an answer out of him again... only for him to turn and completely scare the shit out of you.

that. that was not the face of a human. not when his eyes were all black and curved into tiny moons. not when his lips were stretched so wide that he resembled the stupid 😄 emoji. not when his mouth looked like a bottomless pit of nothing that could swallow you alive. not when his skin was paper white and his body now elongated to look something like a sexy slenderman if that was even possible. not when he didn't resemble a human anymore.

"darling, what's wrong? you don't like my face? I'm really hurt."

his voice is deep as he continues staring at you from his seat. he makes no sign of movement, merely looking down at you with a tilt of his head before a soft giggle comes out.

what the shit? were you in a horror movie now?

screaming and falling onto the floor behind you, you shiver and try escaping. no, you had to leave. you couldn't die now!

scrambling to the help button, you try to get help. surely the technician could try and get help for you? you desperately press the help button, glancing warily at the high school boy that you were sure was actually a 6009 year old demon that decided to possess a body of a kid for the mere fun of it.

"huh? baby? what's up?"

baby? what? first darling, now baby? what's up with these men? you stare at the help panel before whimpering for help. unfortunately the male voice over the line only fills you with more dread.

"you wanna leave? no can do baby. don't worry, we'll take good care of you."

you don't like the way he said good. what the hell was that supposed to mean? for all you know it could mean imprison you in the train for the rest of your life!

"also I'm in the carriage beside Mr. Driver so if you wanna leave that weird shapeshifter beside you feel free to hop over."

beside... you?

you are suddenly hyperaware of every single thing around you and wait a second, why the hell did you feel a suspicious person breathing down your neck?

"leave my dear alone, you creep."

the air around you seems to loosen up as the weird shapeshifter demon backs up. damn, what good timing. you were just about to thank your saviour when the familiar feeling of dread returns, and even worse this time.

he was a handsome guy. tall, well dressed, and absolutely damn gorgeous. he was wearing all black, a black fedora on his head as he smiles at you with his pearly white teeth. reassurance. yet, you felt as though if you dared to disrespect him, your life would be over before you even knew it.

you stay rooted in your place, your mouth running dry as the male steps closer to you. each step of his felt like a step closer to death and... was it just you or were you feeling light headed now?

"i am afraid i cannot touch you, my dear. for your life will be drained with each fleeting touch. but i must say that it is good to finally meet you physically."

death.

you were so damn sure that the man in front of you right now was the grim reaper or maybe even death himself. your whole body was shaking at this point, his very presence making you feel as though an invisible force was pushing you down into the ground and squeezing you tight. it was hard to even breathe.

"ah, sorry. i forgot living beings are ever so fragile. my sincerest apologies, my dear."

just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, the driver's announcement makes you feel like you're about to throw up.

"welcome aboard the hell train, sweetheart. you are now on the line to ǝɹǝɥʍou. please enjoy the rest of your ride!"

shit, so you really were about to get stuck on this train forever.

[starglitterz]

♡ SPICY. // PART ONE

❝ ‘cause i’m too spicy for your heart, ring the fire alarm! ❞ // attractive things the genshin men do

✧ feat ; al-haitham, ayato, childe, cyno, diluc, heizou, kaeya, thoma, wriothesley, xiao x gn!reader

✧ warning(s) ; fluff, suggestive, implied kamisato!reader for thoma’s, reader is shorter than ayato for his part, modern au for wriothesley, traveller!reader for xiao’s

✧ a/n ; yeah yeah i’m a slut we all know that already let’s move on 🙄 /lh i was brainrotting sm LOL i hope u guys enjoy! 

part one︱info︱part two

please reblog + leave comments ! it helps a lot w motivation <3

✦ “are you listening?” AL-HAITHAM’s voice cuts through your messy thoughts and you scramble for your pen to scribble some nonsense and at least pretend you were concentrating. your eyes are glued to the paper in front of you, too embarrassed to meet his gaze after what you were daydreaming about him. without warning, he uses his index finger to tilt your chin up to face him with a curt “pay attention.” his green irises bore into yours, scanning them as if to discover why you haven’t been focusing and the intensity of his gaze makes heat rise to your cheeks. his actions clearly result in the opposite of the desired effect though, because it’s made you ten million times more distracted, too busy thinking about your tutor doing things that certainly aren’t academic.  

✦ there’s definitely something in the way that AYATO leans down to hear you better. it’s a simple gesture, but when he bends down to listen to what you’re saying, it proves that he’s putting in the effort to continue the conversation and is genuinely interested in your chatter. or even if it’s something like leaning against the door frame, a reminder of how idiotically tall he is, it always gets your heart beating quicker and you lose your train of thought. but maybe he isn’t as clueless as you think he is, because the smirk playing about his lips as he admires your flustered expression while you stumble over your words definitely says otherwise. 

✦ sometimes when you see CHILDE’s idiotic smirk, it takes everything in you not to punch it off his face. however, when he’s in the heat of battle, the way his lips curl just so as he lifts an eyebrow at his opponent daringly, almost as if he’s asking them “you really think you can defeat me?” you’d rather punch him with your lips. the sheer confidence he exudes as he fights, the casual manner with which he switches his bow to his hydro polearm, the easy grin dancing about his mouth – it’s incredibly attractive. 

✦ it shouldn’t be a big deal, but whenever CYNO wraps his arms around your waist from behind to pull you into his embrace, you swear your heartbeat accelerates to the speed of light. he’ll rest his chin on your shoulder too, and if he’s feeling mischievous (which is practically all the time), he’ll tilt his head ever so slightly so he’s at the perfect angle to press fleeting kisses against your neck. you can almost feel his smile against your skin as you shiver from the sensation of his warm lips. 

✦ DILUC is not one for grand public displays of affection. you don’t mind, you’re fine with it, but one day another patron at the angel’s share keeps flirting with you, and suddenly you feel the winery owner beside you, one arm snaking around your waist almost possessively. “it’s nice to meet you,” he murmurs to the other man in a tone icy enough to freeze over hell. his fingers tap a steady rhythm against your hips and you feel like his touch is branding you through the layers of fabric. it evidently gets the message across because the poor customer leaves immediately with his tail between his legs, and all DILUC does is squeeze your waist lightly and press a soft kiss on your forehead as a hint of a smug smile curves his lips. 

✦ being a genius detective and also just being really annoying are certainly not mutually exclusive, as HEIZOU continues to prove every single day. case in point; the way he’s proudly walking around the tenryou commission, the array of wine-coloured bruises you left on his neck last night blatantly out for display. the other inazumans who notice look scandalized, while kujou sara seems dangerously close to bursting a blood vessel. “heizou!” you hiss, pulling him into a secluded corner to scold him, “why didn’t you wear a scarf or something?!” the detective merely gives you his trademark grin and winks playfully, “why should i? it’s a mark of your love, i wouldn’t want to hide it~”

✦ one thing’s for certain whenever you talk to KAEYA – he will give you his undivided attention. you love that about him, but sometimes his piercing gaze is almost distracting, the varied shades of sparkling blue a stark contrast to the matte black leather of his eyepatch and often making you veer wildly off-track to whatever you’re telling him about. it only worsens when you catch his stare sometimes drifting to your lips, but he’ll shake his head as if jolting himself out of a reverie before he continues looking at you and nodding like he’s been paying attention this entire time. and if you call him out on it, he’ll just raise both hands in surrender, “sorry, babe, i can’t help it – you just look so kissable when you’re talking!”

✦ THOMA is an absolute softie, always making your favourite foods and spoiling you as the housekeeper of the kamisato clan. it makes sense that you’ve never realised just how strong he actually is. but then you catch a glimpse of him one evening after a long day’s work, and as he lifts up the edge of his shirt to wipe the glistening sweat off his face you think you could collapse. the gesture exposes his toned abdomen, muscles clenching as he lets out a soft groan, and the only coherent thought running through your mind is; why has he been hiding this the entire time?! maybe it’s time for you to switch the kamisato housekeeper uniform to a crop top… 

✦ WRIOTHESLEY is a gentleman who’ll never let you take a cab home alone, especially not after a long night out in the city. but as he’s pulling up to your house, your thoughts are definitely nowhere near appreciating how sweet he is, rather you’re admiring how close his muscled arms are to your face while his hand is on the back of your seat as he turns to check the rear mirror. from the passenger seat, you get the perfect view of his side profile, his chiseled features, the barely visible trace of stubble on his chin, his stormy gray eyes… he’s like the dark male lead of every romance manhwa. and when he catches you looking, he gives you a smile that’s almost teasing, “like what you see, beautiful?” 

✦ even though XIAO is the one who’s supposed to teleport to you whenever you call his name, you can’t help but find yourself gravitating towards him whenever he says yours. it must be how he utters it, softly, lovingly, almost reverent in his gentleness as if you’ll shatter before his eyes if he whispers it even a decibel louder. and sure, he calls you by several petnames (butterfly, dove), but the way your name slips past his lips like a prized jewel will always be your favourite. sometimes it feels as if your name is going to be worn out from how often people use it, begging you to help them with miscellaneous tasks and pushing you to exhaustion. but during those late nights at wangshu inn as you rest in his embrace, he whispers your name as if it’s a secret for just the two of you and the stars and you can’t help but think how lucky you must have been to be born with such a pretty name, created for your adeptus lover to murmur with so much affection lacing his tone. 

GRR i lowk love this... hope yall do too! don't forget to check out part 2 when it's published as well <3

© starglitterz 2023. do not repost or modify in any way – reblog / follow if you enjoyed !

[artdcnaldson]

yknow those wives who have affairs with men they meet at the gym? yea so that but its art fucking the pretty, young thing from the yoga class his trainer signed him up for. something about mindfulness and old joints, honestly art wasnt listening, too busy thinking about how embarrassed he would be trying to do yoga in a public gym, a nice gym, but public nonetheless. but the first time he goes he picks the matt next to yours, youre no professional but youre a hell of a lot better than he is, as is everyone else but he's not looking at them. you end up chatting afterwards and it just kind of become routine for you to share those classes when you're both there. grabbing a juice together afterwards. and before either of you really understand whats happening, juice turns to lunch, one class a week turns to 3 or 4, a cup of coffee on the weekend turns to regular dinners. and suddenly he's fucking you in the back of his car in the parking lot of your building, all the yoga really paying off with the ways he's bending you trying to make it work in the cramped space. he was really just going to drive you home, like he always does, but you're just so pretty and he swears he saw tashi texting a number with the name "p" last night... so he kisses you and then hes rutting into your pussy, begging oyu to cum around him, let him feel your pussy get tight like that, strangle his cock.... many a thought

-🐞

GODDDDD <3 <3 <3

He isn't going to cheat, he isn't going to cheat, he is NOT going to cheat. It runs through his mind every fucking class after that first one. He's there to improve mobility, to help him get out of his head and be mindful, to kick the horrible anxiety that he's developed since the injury, that's worsened since New Rochelle.

He's not there for you. Even if you're the only person there he talks to. Even if he looks forward to seeing you every morning when he wakes up. Even if he suffers through gross pressed juice after each class because it means more time with you.

You make him happy, in a way he hasn't felt in a really long time. Desirable, interesting, worthwhile. You smile at him across the table when you go out for lunch, and sometimes you duck your head to hide giddy little smiles when he says something sweet. He'll reach across the table and his fingers will brush against your hand, and you won't move away. Your fingers stretch out, feel his, and that's good, that's fine.

It's not cheating. Coffee on Saturday mornings when there aren't any classes scheduled isn't cheating. Texting with your name replaced with a single letter to be discreet isn't cheating. Getting dinner isn't cheating. Watching movies together in your cute little apartment isn't cheating.

Surely Tashi knows. But why would she care when she's got a secret of her own? He know's she's texting Patrick. She has been since the challenger, working out the minutiae of what her coaching him will entail, and it makes Art's stomach turn. That incessant buzzing in his ear like a gnat, the constant question of if Patrick is fucking his wife. Again.

Art had said he would try. He would try to keep playing past the open, and he'd try to fix their marriage. But that was an optimistic promise made in the aftermath of a great fucking game of tennis. It wasn't until later that the resentment and anxiety reared its ugly head.

And then there's you. You don't watch tennis, you don't care about his ranking, you don't expect anything of him. All you expect of him is the pleasure of his company. And god, you look so sweet, sitting in the passenger seat of his jeep. For the past ten minutes, you’ve been rambling on and on about the new show you started watching, how you swear he'd like it, really.

"You're quiet," you say once he's pulled into the parking garage and killed the car. You reach across the center console and put a hand on his arm. "Everything okay?"

No. He's thinking about Tashi and Patrick. Of a text that flashed across her screen that morning from a contact that's just P, "when are you telling art?" He's thinking about affairs, about how he wants one thing to himself, and why can't that be you?

So he kisses you, and you can feel the desperation and need in the rough press of his mouth against yours, in the slow lave of his tongue, licking into your mouth like he wants to savor the taste of you. And you just take it, moaning into his mouth, soft and pretty.

"You're married," you pant as you both climb into the backseat. You say it like you haven't been craving this exact moment since you first saw him walking into the class with an overfull gym bag and a plain gray mat slung over one shoulder. You say it because if you don’t, you’ll feel worse.

But he just silences you with another hungry, desperate kiss that you return in kind. You paw at his shirt, trying to tug it off without breaking the kiss. Art laughs against your mouth and sits back on his heels to peel it off.

He likes the way you look up at him, like he’s the best thing you’ve ever laid eyes on. He’s never felt that from anyone before, never felt like much more than a second choice. A consolation prize. Your hand is small, sliding along the plane of his chest, dipping down to his abs. It’s like you’re marveling at him, appreciating his body the way you’d appreciate a work of art.

Your hand slides down and you palm him almost timidly, feeling the hard length of him in your palm. He groans, a low, masculine sound that makes heat bloom in the pit of your stomach. You’ve heard something similar, when he’s stretching out a particularly tight muscle, or when you’re doing partner poses in yoga class— a hot, panted groan in your ear due to the proximity. But this is entirely new— addicting in the best way.

You don’t care that he’s married. Well, you do, but you just want him to be happy. You can make him happy— can give him something more than what he has. Doesn’t he deserve that?

Your clothes are shed quickly, easily. Peeled off smooth skin, discarded into the floorboard. All of your senses are flooded with Art’s hands, the way they grasp at your exposed skin, feeling, holding, possessing— His mouth, searing hot where he laves at your throat, over your tits. He sucks your nipple into his mouth and it makes you mewl. Arching into his touch.

“I want— fuck— I want to do so much to you,” he mumbles against your skin. He nips at the plush skin of your tits, promising bruises that will remind you in the morning you hadn’t just dreamt it all. “I just need to have you.”

You’d let him do anything. You’d let him carve you open and replace everything inside with him, him, him. And he does, in a way. When he lines up with your cunt and drives in, burying himself deep inside, it feels like he’s all that’s left of you.

The car rocks on its axels as he fucks you, deep and slow. It drives gasps and moans from your lips each time he bottoms out, when you feel his cock deep in your cunt, when his balls press tight against your body.

Art moans a desperate, masculine sound, his breath coming hot. The windows fog, dripping condensation in slow trails. “I think I love you,” Art groans, the words slipping out as he gets closer and closer and closer.

He’s married. He’s probably only saying it in a fuckdrunk haze. It’s a bad decision, you’d both regret it in the morning.

“I love you,” you tell him, softly. Earnest as he’s ever heard it said. He cums hard, grinding slow and deep so it’s as deep as possible.

He walks you to the door, kisses your cheek, tells you he’ll see you at the studio soon. When he gets home, he doesn’t tell Tashi, but she can sense it on him. The secret seeps from his pores. Good for him. It’s about time he does something for himself.

His next tournament is beautiful— his best tennis in a while. And maybe it’s best for Tashi to turn a blind eye while Art’s winning again. Maybe.

[hereforthehitsbaby]

Watch Me | Cooper Adams/Abbott x Teacher F!Reader

Synopsis: You can’t always be Little Miss Perfect. Sometimes you need to let off some steam, and Mr. Adams knows just how.

Warnings: Age Gap (Legal,) Reader is in her mid 20’s and Cooper is 46, Implied Murder, Grinding, PiV Sex, Biting, Slapping, Hair Pulling, Use of Daddy, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Mentions of Abuse, Abusive Ex, Dom!Cooper, Infidelity,  Cheating, Spanking, Choking, ROUGH SEX (and I am not using that lightly, this is FUCKING ROUGH)

Rating: M

Word Count: 10k

Author’s Note: So I really need to stop writing Cooper in his psycho form. I want soft Cooper….BUT THE PARASITE IN ME WANTS THE PSYCHOPATHY OF COOPER. Also if this makes no sense don’t judge, I took an edible and let my mind take course.

Tagging: @rubyfruitjungle @cherryinterlude @lilly3434 @amethystblackkchaos @rosaleelovesdilfs @babygorewhore @dirtylittlefairytales @redpillbluepill @strangererotica

If you would like to be tagged for my fics, please fill this out

You love your job, absolutely adore it. There is nothing better in this world than teaching. Something about mentoring kids and creating core memories that they will look back on with gratitude, is why you started in the first place. The teachers that made a lasting impact on you are also the same ones who believed in you when you said you wanted to be someone, to create and show the world you are capable of. Tumultuous home life crushed your spirit day in and day out, leaving you feeling worthless. At least with your mentors, they made you remember how only you can control your own life. If anyone knows you well enough, they know you need control.

Teaching initially gave you that control when you were fresh out of college; Being able to see kids grow and flourish into young adults was rewarding. Leaving a lasting impact was your goal but, in the state America is in today – being a teacher isn’t ideal. Between mass murders and serial killers – you couldn’t tell which you were scared of more. At first it was a what if, but the further you got into the school year, the more threats that arose, left you on edge. You needed to have a way to blow off steam, you needed a way to put those days of fear behind you. Seeking out a second employer was not ideal, with how tight your schedule already was, it left you no time for you. Which in theory was fine, being a single woman living in Philadelphia was exactly what it seemed; Dreary and bored. You needed that oomph to make you excited again, to live in the moment versus in your head. Chester Springs is quiet, quaint, exactly what you were looking for. A city where no one knows that you are a schoolteacher, a place where they think you are something else entirely.

Entertaining was what you were good at, turning tricks got you through college in Boston. It wasn’t a shameful thing, a girl got to do what she’s got to do. Aquarius is a higher end strip club, to call it what it is. Not a typical hole in the wall joint to mask money laundering. Aquarius was more in the line of escorts – sure there were still pole dancing and private suites but, not everyone could get in. A club where married men come to cheat on their wives, where businessmen always in control let off a little steam, and where stockbrokers come to give a last hurrah before marriage. It was nice, refreshing even to have a place where you weren’t ogled like prey – no, you were respected, in control. It was your haven after a long work week; Come Friday through Sunday night – you were the Queen of them all.

Being the head dancer meant you got to say no to those creeps who snuck in, those who want to get sucked off and fucked before they touch their wives again. You got to pick what music you danced to, who you interacted with, hell you even got to choose your pricing. To be fair you busted your ass off for four years to do so, you earned every moment of your employment. It meant you could live that double life comfortably, be able to drive a Porsche and hire a housekeeper. You were comfortable, no longer struggling. You were eternally grateful.

Friday nights tend to be specialty nights – meaning any group of first responders got half price to celebrate the work they do for the state. The surrounding towns, up to sixty miles out, were invited and treated like kings. As a sign of appreciation, tonight happened to be the Philadelphia fire department’s night to be pampered; The less you knew the better. I mean, your boss never told you that your hometown was going to be the subject of tonight’s praise – just like those guys didn’t need to know you were teaching in their district. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you ran a finger under your lip to clean up your lipstick – the mauve pink color suiting your skin tone beautifully. The music was pumping, and the cheering was growing louder. Tonight was going to be a good tip night – you could feel it.

“Baby girl, you’re up in five,” Moira, your boss sang out – patting the top of your head with a motherly touch. You felt warmth spread through your body; Arousal mixed with nerves. No matter how long you danced, you always got nervous when it was your time to shine. Still, tonight was no different from the last – this was your night. “I’m in control. I have control. I am control.” You spoke to yourself in a soft voice, causing Veronica to rub your arm – praying silently for you. “Lord, please make sure she has the sexiest dance tonight. Please make sure she catches the hottest firefighter and gets a good dick down. And Lord? Make sure her tits pop like you deserve.” Ronnie spoke in a serious tone, causing you to cackle as you stand. “You know I love you, Ron Ron.” You kissed her cheek as you strutted off to her right, causing her to smack your ass in the process. “Show them titties off baby!”

Rolling your eyes, you shed your bathrobe against the coat rack near the backstage entrance, your platform heels clacking sexily against the linoleum. With Halloween only a few weeks away, the club decided to get spooky season started early with your routine. Your sound of choice was Heaven by Julia Michaels – whilst you wore a lacy red number, accentuating your body in every place you adored. The straps around your midsection, thighs, and arms made you feel badass and hot all wrapped into one. Where tonight was to honor the firefighters, you added a little yellow leather jacket to cover your upper half, and a plastic fire caps for the laughs.

Hearing the beat and bass rumbling through your feet, you heard Moira’s voice announcing your stage name. You didn’t see any faces but outlines of figures; Broad and strong. A line of sweat ran down your back from excitement, then ran cold at all eyes on you. Usually, you were never nervous to dance and found it quite relaxing. But tonight, there was a heaviness that loomed in the air. Anxiety crept up your legs, making you shake slowly as you wrapped your left leg around the pole. Doing a fireman’s slide, you spun your body gently – gliding through the air with open eyes, trying to see why you felt so uncomfortable. All the men stared at you like you were an angel from above, like you were the greatest thing on this Earth. But one set of eyes stared into yours with a predatory gleam – one that caused your core to tighten. Staring at you in the direct center of the club, was none other than Firehouse 721’s very own Fire Chief, Cooper Adams.

You had a long, extensive history with Mr. Adams, being his daughter Riley’s teacher. Riley Adams is your star pupil, the student every teacher strives to have. She isn’t an overachiever but, she loves to get those A’s and B’s. Always first to help out a classmate or stick up for her friends, she was a true hero of the seventh grade. In fact, she would often stay after school with you and keep her dad waiting – which in turn would cause Cooper to come in and have weekly progress updates on Riley. There was never animosity with Cooper but, the ways his eyes tended to wash over you, made you burn. A single father of two, working day in and day out to protect the city, he was the whole package wrapped into one. But you knew it was inappropriate to do anything with your student’s parents, you took your job too serious.

One incident happened earlier this year when Riley stuck up for a kid in class, leading for the main mean girl to put slime in Riley’s blond curls. Riley in turn socked her directly in the face, breaking her nose. It turned into Cooper getting into a spat with the mother of the girl – and you needing to mediate. Riley got in school suspension for two weeks, and Cooper was not having it. Though Riley thought her punishment was fair, Cooper thought she shouldn’t have anything against her. Your hands were tied, there was nothing you could do. At the end Cooper understood but, that gleam he is giving you now – felt the same way as that day. Like he was going to eat you whole, and spit you back out.

His ember eyes glowed against the red lights, sparkling with darkness and sex appeal. You felt yourself give out a little moan as you dropped to your knees, running your hands up and down your torso. Tossing your head back as the cap fell off, you rolled your hips against the stage – acting very demure with the song. But your eyes were low lidded, staring at Cooper, watching how his thick thighs twitched with need, his hand readjusting the crotch of his pants. Cooper Adams was staring at you like he wanted to devour you in front of the club, like he wanted to stake his claim and you’d be damned – you’d let him in a heartbeat. Nerves snaked their way across your stomach as you realized the entire firehouse was there – parents of the students you taught, who damn well might’ve known your face. You felt your palms grow clammy as you felt yourself up, your breath hitching. “Breathe. You’re almost done,” you whisper to yourself under the music, closing your eyes as you slid sideways on stage, your ass up in the air as you got your chest as low as you could go.

Cooper’s whole firehouse was watching you like a hot, tossing back and shots and smirks as they watch you. The rain of twenties and hundred-dollar bills felt like magic, knowing you were putting on the best show possible for them. But you hid your face beneath your hair on purpose; You didn’t need this to get out. Once you hit the stage you slid to your back, windmilling your legs as you clack your platform heels; The sound reverberating off the room. Everyone cheered as loud as they could, clapping as the song started to wind down to its end. Yet the entire time Cooper never moved, never took his eyes off of you, and never changed his facial expression. He looked like he was going to eat you alive, he was going to devour you and leave no crumbs. But you couldn’t tell if that glimmer in his eye was rage or admiration He probably thinks I’m a slut.

“Gentlemen give it up for our superstar!” Moira yelled over the mic, causing the whooping and cheers to ring out. Smiling like you weren’t nervous at all, you gave a bow before starting to walk back to the dressing room, your smile dropping to a mortified look – hands shaking uncontrollably as you slid behind the curtain. “Holy shit, girl! You fucking killed it!” Mackenzie called out as Veronica took the stage next, blasting Joan Jett. Macks face slid from a stellar smile to a worried glance as she evened out her lipstick, the baby pink shade complimenting her whole aesthetic so well. Placing the tube down, she came up to your front, grabbing your face between her hands. “What’s wrong? Was it the guys? I know it’s nerve wracking when it’s first responders but you did-“

“They’re from my district, my town.” You cut Mack off, sucking in a deep breath as you felt tears well in your eyes. Looking up to avoid smudging your makeup, you sniffle as you hold onto Mackenzie’s arm for anchorage. “I fucking teach their kids, Mack. Those dads fucking saw me here! No one knows I dance, for fuck’s sake. If they know, if they see…I’m fucked.” You knew one day it was going to happen, that someone, or someone’s you knew would stroll in and see you performing – see your tits or ass on display, and how you worked your way around the club. The day that happened you swore you would get up and leave – school, the club, town – move across the country and start fresh. Change your name, pretend this wasn’t your life before and have endless possibilities. Now? That wasn’t a choice.

“Slow your role there, buttercup. It’s not that big of a deal. I work in Daycare. Ronnie works as a speech therapist. Moira is the principal of a high school in town. It’s not a huge deal. We survive, you can too.” Hearing Mackenzie say that was reassuring but, still the gnawing at your gut made you want to redo your entire life from scratch. “Was it the chief that freaked you out, is that why you’re tweaking?” She must’ve been talking about Cooper – I mean who else would it be? Deep down, you hated to admit it but it was true. Having Cooper, the sexiest dad in town, see you stripped down and showing your sensual side made you feel like you were on fire. The way his eyes would watch every movement, like he was cataloging it in his head; All it would take is for him to say what you do and poof – everything you’ve worked for.

“If you’re worry about him spilling, stop. He was eye-fucking you so hard I’m surprise he didn’t cream his pants.” Mackenzie’s shrill laugh flowed through your ears, just as Ronnie was done. Barbe Girl by Aqua starting blaring through the sound system as Mackenzie perked her breasts up in her baby pink bra, giving you a kiss on the cheek. “Go talk to him, it’ll make you feel better.”

She was right, maybe if you explained to Cooper what you are doing, he’d understand. Probably pull Riley out of your class but that was okay – because at least you tried, and that’s all you could ever do. Sucking in a deep breath, Ronnie grabs the towel from beside you with a laugh – exhaling with a relieved smile. “Dude, DUDE! That fire chief wouldn’t fucking look my way. He’s all yours, baby doll.” Ronnie shook her head with a laugh as she passed by you, heading towards the locker room. It made your stomach flip that Cooper only watched you, not giving the other girls the time of day. It made you feel special, like after all this would be okay. Maybe it would, maybe this is all going to work out just fine.

“Baby doll, you got a private dance in room six. Cameras are off in there, so if you need anything just holler!” Moira shouted over Aqua, using her two fingers to motion you to the private rooms. The relieved sigh you exhaled calmed your nerves, your eyes no longer wavering at the thought of what you’d tell Cooper about your lifestyle. Maybe whoever is in six would take your mind off it – maybe you didn’t even have to see him. I mean its taboo, right? Fire department going to a strip club on the State’s dime. If blackmailing was needed, you knew Moira would stick right by your side. Swallowing down the lump that formed in your throat, you slowly started to make your way across the club to the left side.

The spiral, velvet staircase was a perfect add on to the club – making it feel sophisticated, but also retro. You loved how it felt against your hands and feet as you climbed up, rubbing against the velvet banister. It was the best way for you to ground yourself before doing a private dance. Those could go anyway you wanted – depending on the price. Tonight though? The money didn’t fucking matter – what mattered was clearing your head after the inner turmoil you laid on yourself. To say you were drained was an understatement – you haven’t been this exhausted at the club since your ex tried to kidnap you a few months back, held you at knife point behind the dumpster because you didn’t want to go with him. Never again, you promised yourself never again.

As you reached the top of the landing, you put on your game face. Giving the empty space your very best sensual look. Eyes half lidded, the sway in your hips dropping to a softer cadence, your lips puffed out to plump them a little bit. You were going big tonight; all the stops were going to be let out. They were going to get the best dance of your fucking life, and a little happy ending to top it off. Shit, maybe seeing Cooper did turn me on. You shook your head at the thought, feeling your core sopped at the mental image. Biting down on your bottom lip, you took a deep breath as you wrapped your delicate hand around the doorknob, turning it softly. Closing your eyes you make sure to push the door open and slip inside. The plush fabric on the wood made your heart calm down, putting you in your mental place before spinning around.

“Hi there, sweet-“ you began as you spun around, the smile you plastered on for show slipped – causing a look of shock to cover your face. You felt like a statue; Standing stone still, eyes widening at the realization. The black velvet couch was occupied by one man, and one man only – staring at you with such intensity your body vibrated. One arm draped over the back of the couch whilst the other rested against his thigh, fingers twitching inconsistently. Sunset colored eyes stared intently at you, creased as if contemplating what his next move would be. A plush pink tongue slipped between his lips, pulling his bottom one in between his teeth. Cooper Adams was your special dance of the night, he wanted a private dance, in the one room where cameras didn’t work – it all made sense now. Gulping down the pool of spit that coated your mouth, you stuck your hands out like a frightened animal, slowly walking sideways in the room. You knew he could pounce at any time; The unpredictability was making you weak.

“Sit.” He stated matter-of-factly, patting his muscular thigh. His lips pursed in such a way where you knew he was growing frustrated. At the sight of his jeans tightened in the crotch area, you could assume why he was crabby. “Mr. Adams-“ you began to explain yourself, trying to justify why you were here and why this doesn’t take away from your teaching abilities but Cooper wasn’t having it. Raising the hand that was draped over the couch, he let out a pessimistic laugh, sliding his tongue over his teeth as he never broke your line of sight. “I said, sit. Don’t make me say it again.” The tone in which he spoke was strict, to the point; He said what he wanted now it was your duty to obey. Or else, you knew something bad would happen.

Nodding in submission, you hung your head lower than you would’ve liked, moving graciously in your heels as you tried not to focus on Cooper’s predatory stare. Seeing him like this was new for you – every time the fire department would give the safety assemblies, he was always so happy and chipper. The best thing in his life besides Riley and Logan was making sure the community was safe. He did it with a smile, so excited and proud knowing he was making a difference. That soft Cooper you fell for, like every other teacher, dissipated and instead a greedy, dark man sat in his place. His soul always shined brightly against the backdrop of the city – now it was obsidian, tainted by rage and hunger. It was sexy, in a fucked up way.

As you reached Cooper lap, you stood tall in front of his seated self. Placing both hands on the back of the couch to box in his thick neck, slowly you crept forth to place your knees on the opposite sides of his thighs. You weren’t even allowed to straighten yourself out as Cooper grasped at your waist, pinning your hips to his impatiently. The grunt of approval that slipped passed his parted lips was sent straight to your core, the slick mess made in your panties evident to his treatment. That dark look fell away from Cooper’s face as a shiny smile fell upon him, beaming up at you like you were a pretty new toy.  “There, doesn’t that feel better?” There was a sadistic undertone to his words; He was toying with you after all.

Looking down into Cooper’s eyes, you felt your fingertips grow clammy against the plush couch, your breath hitching at his question. “Cooper, pl-” You tried to start again but were met with Cooper tsking at you, chuckling exuberantly at your annoyance. You needed to explain yourself, you needed to give yourself a chance to explain before he got the wrong idea. But every time you were trying to justify your career choices, you were shut out. You knew deep down Cooper wasn’t doing this on purpose but, it felt very fucking pointed. Sighing out in frustration, you sucked your teeth as you watched him, pursing your lips to get your point across. “My, my. Now I knew you could have a darker side but, being a stripper AND a teacher?” he tsked, grazing his eyes along your body as you kneeled still. His eyes met the line of your cleavage, using his thick fingers to rub against the straps that barricaded your breasts. The simple touch made your body ignite. Instinctively you grinded down on him, feeling his hard cock tighten under his jeans. Hissing out at the feeling, Cooper brought his freehand around to smack your ass, gripping hard at the supple flesh. “Bad, bad girl.”

“Mr. Adams, this isn’t-“ You shook your head, a headache booming behind your eyes at the maltreatment. Your vision was growing hazy on the sides as you stared dead on at Cooper, wondering why he wasn’t giving you the chance to say anything and only cutting you off. “What? Appropriate?” He laughed. It wasn’t a laugh you heard before, but one that was chaotic – unhinged to say the least. Cooper’s face contorted into a psychopathic grin, his hand snaking up the front of your body, up your torso, and finally landing on your neck. “What’s not appropriate is not staring at the client while you’re making them rock fucking hard.” He chided as he pressed his thumb and forefinger to your pulse point, causing your head to grow hazy. You couldn’t help that your eyes were rolling back into your head at the feeling of being choked by Cooper. Your life lying in the palm of his hand, he controlled your every move. “You silly little slut, did you like watching me adjust myself?”

It was a no-brained response. You couldn’t hide it any longer. “Yes,” you whispered. The rough nature of how he was grabbing at your throat caused your words to come out soft, timid and shy. The cold metal of his wedding band was delicious in contrast with the warmth of your skin. Nothing like how you were in parent teacher conferences. This time around it was different – you no longer had control of the room but were just another pretty pawn to be stepped on. Crinkling his brow, Cooper shook his head, being unsatisfied. “Uh, uh uh. Louder.” Cooper commanded you to say it again, but wanted it loud enough for him to hear. You knew this was a tactic to fuck with you, to put you right where he wanted this whole time. Being rough like this wasn’t anything new to you – after all this is what you preferred in your sex life. But the way he commanded you was unlike anything else – even how your ex was. Yet he didn’t stop when you said to – you knew Cooper would. “Yes.” It was a choked moan as you met his gaze, growling out softly as the word slipped.

“Good girl, now was that so hard to admit?” Cooper’s hand released itself from around your throat, instead rubbing circles into the column of your throat. You felt the flush take over your body as your blood started to move again. Cutting off the oxygen supply to your brain made you feel foggy, coming down from that now put everything into perspective. That dark, eerie look in Cooper’s eyes was hunger. That glint of something deeper, the restraint he was holding – snapped into a thin corded line, causing you to grovel for him. You hated admitting to yourself that you could cum just from this, right here and right now. This was all anyone in town wanted – a chance with Cooper Adams, the fire chief and married father of two.

“What’s your plan here, Cooper?” You managed to speak with a lilt in your tone, trying to gain back your composure. It was impossible for you to suppress the giggle that slipped out as you asked that, finding it quite hilarious that the one time he let you speak a full question without interruption, is when you ask what his intentions are with you. It was comedic at this point, he truly was fucking with you on such a deep level, it almost felt like a joke. But no, it was psychopathy. You never would’ve pegged Cooper Adams – wholesome girl dad – as a psychopath or having those kinds of tendencies. A rougher, darker side maybe only his wife sees. His wife. He’s married. Was it awful that that didn’t bother you? You never met Rachel and Riley never talked about her. It was always Cooper, Cooper, Cooper. “Nothing, just to enjoy my daughter’s teachers’ company.” The sickeningly sweet way Cooper said that made your blood boil, using it against you in a way. The power trip running rampant in his mind as you cowered. Chuckling out of sheer frustration, you shot back: “Are you going to tell everyone, now?”

“And expose you for being such a fucking whore? Now where is the fun in that?” Cooper pouted playfully, smirking. Your body reacted in such a way to being called a whore that it was morally frowned upon. The way your eyes rolled back as they shut, your face screwed up almost in pain, and your grip tightened now on his shoulder. You couldn’t let him have the upper hand but for fucks sake, you wanted him to. Everything in your life was always about control, why not give that up for a bit. Looking at Cooper’s entertained face, you drew up your best puppy dog eyes – showing the sheen of tears covering your irises as you slightly frowned. “Aw, what’s wrong Princess? I thought you like being degraded. After all, you’re always looking up porn with it.”

That threw you off of your game, your demeanor dropped, and your body was running cold. There was no way in hell for him to know that based on an acute observation, or even a fucking hunch. No, this went deeper. Your brain started to go over every memory you have had lately of this encounter, trying to find a possible solution for why he would know that. “How did you…?” You caught yourself midsentence as you remembered the alert you got from Safari the other night, IP tracking stating that: Your IP address has been profiled by 23 trackers in the last seven days. But how could it be 23 when you have a VPN, firewall protection and layers upon layers of password encrypted searches? It didn’t make sense; did he dabble in cybersecurity before becoming a fire chief? Or was that for fun that he learned to hack?

Cooper saw the cogs turning in your head as you pondered over each alert you received. Not wanting you to figure it out so damn quick, he perked up as he grabbed your waist, drumming his fingers against your thighs. “Let’s play a game. You guess between one and ten, and I’ll show you what you pick. Sound fun?” It was such a random change of pace that your mind instantly was drawn to what Cooper was insinuating. He didn’t give you a chance to think about the why’s when his fingers ran across your body, grazing the line of your panties. As you peered at his overtly cheery nature, you noticed something you hadn’t seen before; Eye twitching usually happened under duress but Cooper wasn’t. He was calm and calculated, composed. No, there was more to his story than he was leading on.

“One through ten. Pick.” You jolted at the commanding tone, moving your hands to push a few strands of his disheveled hair back. Seeing his face so clearly didn’t help the onslaught of questions you had – and it didn’t quell that ache in your cunt. His hands held your hips harshly, promising to leave bruises on your skin. If you even tried to grind down to get comfortable, he would halt any movements. This was his time to play, not yours. “Four.” The reluctant pick brought light back into his eyes, causing that soft smile to reappear. You swear this man was going to give you whiplash with how often he was changing his mood. There wasn’t anything more to it – Cooper scared you in a way where you wanted to be owned by him. It wasn’t a fear for your life, when it should’ve been. You felt like a sick fuck, but it made you so horny to think about.

“Four, my personal favorite!” Cooper exclaimed as he cupped your cheek, using his other hand to grab his phone out of his jeans pocket. You were growing confused as to why he made you pick, and also needed his phone. That is when the realization dawned on you that this game was going to include pictures or videos – of which you were fearful it was of you. That number’s game could relate to a video or picture he took of you tonight, or prior to tonight. It was evident this man did somewhat stalk you – but to the extent? That was lost on you. Gripping his iPhone, Cooper opened an app with a goat’s head, humming to himself as he put in his code.

Just then you heard the moaning of someone on the other side, but not in the way you were expecting. They sounded to be in pain – they were suffering, it sounded like. Oddly it sounded familiar, one you heard only once but, you couldn’t be sure. Before you could ask what was happening, Cooper spun the phone around to show you, muting your end almost quickly. At first you didn’t recognize what was happening since your eyes fell right to survey the background. It looked like a normal shed but, there was something sinister about it. The piping didn’t look like it normally would, neither did the big blue industrial drum barrels sitting next to the chair. That is when you saw it, him, in full picture. Your Ex.

“Oh my god…” you managed to let out, your heart quickening at what you were seeing. Your ex sat bloodied on a wooden chair, a mask hooked up to a tubed device over his face, and the high rising and falling of his chest. Not seeing him for so long caused you to have a visceral reaction, biting your lip so hard it bled. After everything he did to you – the scars he left on your body…you didn’t know how to react other than an animalistic growl of anger and rage. But to Cooper – it may have looked like rage against him kidnapping your ex. “You wouldn’t believe how easy it was to grab this piece of shit. My god, he doesn’t shut up though.” He sighed in contentment, looking up at you with the slightest bit of admiration in his eyes. He was adoring his own handiwork as he was you, best of both worlds right at his fingertips. “Always why? Why me? What did I do?” He mocked in your ex’s whiny voice, causing himself to chuckle. If the circumstances were different, you may have laughed as well at the impression. But not this time, pieces were clicking together in your head that you didn’t want any part of. Yet you knew, it would be easier to conform than revolt.

“Cooper…this is so fucked up.” You managed to squeak your words out as you stared at his phone, seeing the distress your ex was in. You couldn’t, wouldn’t dare to admit it out loud but seeing him in this position made you feel at peace, knowing he isn’t out there, hurting another woman. You hated that you were the last one he did anything to but, in a way you felt good knowing, thinking about that what if. That what if, is what made you realize. “Oh, far from it, baby girl. This is justice. Fucked up would be to bounce you on my cock as you watch him die.” The fact that Cooper said it so matter-of-factly confirmed the suspicion swirling around in your head. The video feed. The mask. The sneaking glances. The possession. The hot and cold moods rotate like a revolving door. It rang true, the video gave it that final nudge in your brain. You couldn’t escape the truth now. “You’re….you’re The Butcher….” The words felt unreal on your lips; You were hoping for Cooper to deny, deny, deny. But alas, Cooper revealed the truth.

“In the flesh. Out of everyone, I was hoping you caught on first.” The way he stated it so proudly shouldn’t have turned you on the way that it did – but you couldn’t shut off the valve of your feelings on Cooper, no matter how hard you tried. The parent you had been crushing on was finally giving you the time of day in the way you wanted. He stalked you. Kidnapped your ex with intent to kill and is making you straddle him while he does so. Cooper Adams is The Butcher. It all made sense now; The shifting of moods, being so calculated and precise with everything. He was a madman, killed over a dozen people – chopped them up and left their bodies in public places, pieces to only remember the victims by. Those calloused hands weren’t just the hands of a firefighter but, a serial killer. Now? You were grinding on his lap, in a strip club, while he held your ex hostage.

Now that you knew he was The Butcher – you didn’t care about your ex, but yourself. If he had you on top of him, at your mercy, what were his intentions? “W-What is your plan…with me? A-Are you going to kill me, too?” You stuttered, automatically jumping to the worst possible answer before thinking any other was an option. That is all killers are, right? They kill, they kill ones they like, even love. They kill randoms out of the blue. They kill popular people. Hard workers. Anyone really. Whoever is easy for them to get their hands on. Why would Cooper be any different? Why would you for that matter? After all, a victim is a victim. No matter how far out it is, one day it may come. Killers are unpredictable with their moods – Cooper showed that right off the bat.

“Now why would I do that?” Cooper asked, confusion and disappointment showed on his face. His eyebrows were scrunched together, his mouth slightly ajar as he stared at you. He was processing it, but not fully grasping. In his head, he thought it was a stupid question to ask. Why would he do something so horrendous to you? When he’s been pining over you for years. It wasn’t clicking in his head why you were upset and asking, until he heard another agonizing moan slip from his phone. “Oh, right. Serial killer.” He said with a nonchalant tone, pulling his lips up and nodding as he looked down. Sighing out, he locked his phone and placed it back in his pocket – looking up at you, making sure to maintain eye contact. Both of his hands came to cup your face, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. It felt too domestic in this moment – anxiety mixed with being turned on was a weird combination. But you couldn’t, nor you wouldn’t, move your position. This is where you wanted to be, and with who you wanted to be with. Giving that up, would be a mistake deep down. “No, I am not going to kill you.”

“Then what…?” The mental gymnastics was getting to be too much, and quite frankly you were annoyed. It made no sense that Cooper was so cryptic in everything he did now that no one could see or hear him. Only you, and he was planning on keeping it that way. The cameras not working in the room? That had to be him, right? He fucked with them so he could confess without anyone knowing. It made sense, an hour away, where no one knew him that well – just that he is the fire chief. It made sense that people weren’t going to know the name Cooper Adams or think a married man of his caliber was going to frequent a strip club. He was the perfect killer – hiding in plain sight.

Leaning forward as he still holds your face, Cooper grasps at you a bit harder, smushing your cheeks a little bit as he emphasizes the rasp in his voice. “You’re going to take my cock like the good fucking girl you are, and you’re going to let me fill you up.” There was not a singular stutter as he spoke, it was all pure intention on what he was going to do. He didn’t waste a second in explaining himself because his words held enough meaning. Your body, the situation, everything finally caught up to you as you shivered against his body. Your body riddled with goosebumps at the mental image of what he wanted, what he was going to do to you. You couldn’t hide it anymore. It was fucked up how badly your body was betraying you – but the urge to fuck was heavy on your mind. With Cooper? You’d be a fool to turn it down. Your moral compass would never forgive you but, everyone is a sinner, right? “Oh, see? You’re shaking just at the idea.” He teased, leaning forth to press his lips to the column of your neck, flicking his tongue up your throat. The moan you exclaimed shook you to the core, causing your hips to shake.

“I know you’ve wanted to fuck me, because I’ve been dreaming of it since the first day I saw you.” There it was, the confirmation you needed as he bit at your neck, pulling on the flesh with his teeth. The pain hurt so good, you slotted your hands in his hair and yanked. The main was too much for both of you but stopping wouldn’t be an option. The floodgates broke, you couldn’t close them if you tried. Cooper held you down against his crotch with one hand as the other moved to cup the back of your neck, dragging you down to meet his lips in a frenzied kiss. It was electric, the world stopped spinning for a moment as he drank you down. Swirls of golds and blues swirled in your peripheral vision as he deepened the kiss, showing off the passion you longed for.

You didn’t want this to end or stop anytime soon. The one thing weighing heavy on your gut was cutting cold across your body. Pulling back, you spoke in a small tone. “You’re married. That isn’t fair to your wife.” It was true, there was a part of you that hated knowing you were a mistress to this man, who seemed like an overall family guy. Two small kids and a doting wife. Infidelity was never okay in your eyes, and it never would be okay. But there was a small parasitic side of you that couldn’t stop wondering what it would be like. Did he actually love his wife? If he did, what would possess him to cheat on her like this? There was more to it he was not letting on to, nor daring to elaborate on. You wonder if your internal statement was true; He didn’t love his wife and truly has only ever wanted you. But that’s always too good to be true, self-doubt is a fickle bitch. Pouting at your statement, he brings both of his hands down to focus on your breasts, harshly pulling down the cup to expose your pert nipples.

“You’re telling me, you don’t want to feel my wedding ring gliding across your body, hm?” He questioned as he used his thumb and first finger to tweak your nipple, causing a whimper to escape your lips. The cold of his wedding band against the side of your breast made you wet to think about, Cooper could tell hence why he started to glide it over your peaked bud, smirking at the effect it was having on you. Leaning his head down, he captured your right nipple between his lips, suckling softly on the peak. His tongue slid across your sensitive nipple, causing your back to arch. The moan he let out reverberated throughout your body. As he pulled back, you whimpered at the loss of contact but, you didn’t dare to speak. Your voice would betray you. “That you’re making a mess on a married man’s cock?”

That was the final straw for you – that simple question mixed with his opposite hand pulling at your left nipple set you on fire. You moan aloud as you reached down between the two of you, grazing his clothed cock with your hand, running it harshly against the thick outline with a growl. “Please, Cooper.” The action, mixed with your words, caused Cooper to surge forth and capture your lips with his own. The kiss was all teeth, rough and passionate all at once. It was full of want and need without any awkwardness, like this where it was supposed to be all along. This is where Cooper was meant to be. The barrier was broken, there was no turning around now. This night was going to end with him buried balls deep inside of you, and you were going to be such a happy camper about it. “Please, what?” He moaned out loud against your lips, shoving his hand down between your legs, cupping your clothed cunt. “I’m not a mind reader,” Cooper laughed as you rolled your hips against his hand, pressing your forehead to his. The assault on your neck started then, giving him perfect access to kiss the supple skin. Dragging his teeth up your jaw and to your mouth, he pulled himself back a few inches with a smirk – coaxing your response out with one look. “Please, fuck me.” You whimpered, on the nerve of tears. You were a needy mess and needed to fuck him or else you’d burn alive. The attraction, everything, it was too much.

That was exactly what Cooper wanted to hear, it’s what he needed to act upon the impulses, the desires. The genuine smile that spread across his lips as he looked up at you made your heart feel so full, and flutter uncontrollably. “Ah, see? You don’t care about my wife’s feelings.” Cooper moved his hands off of you for a moment to undo his belt buckle, pulling the clasps aside as you undid the button and zipper on his jeans. Pulling it down with a sickeningly fast pace, he soared his hand into his briefs to pull his cock out, smacking it against the front of your pussy through your panties. “No, you just care about me stuffing that pretty cunt.”

His words caused your cunt to clench, but his next actions set you on a path of destruction. Your mouth watered at the sight of his thick, rigid cock, springing out to slap against your clothed pussy. You couldn’t believe the size of him, wondering how that much man was going to fit inside of you. You’d do whatever you had to, to make it fit. That was a promise to you, and silently to Cooper. You started to move to get off Cooper from your straddling position, wanting to slip your panties off and shove them into his coat pocket, so he has a little gift when he leaves. But Coop had other ideas, and he refused to get you get off of him. The lace waistband of your panties slipped softly through his fingers, basking in the way it felt against his hands. You could see the hitch in his breath as he gripped the fabric a little tighter, wrapping it around his finger. Cooper kept twisting until he heard the small elastics in the lace snap, spreading a sinister smile across his face. Just like that, he ripped your panties clean off of your body – utilizing the gap between where his cock and your pussy to push the shredded remains off, grunting out as he sees your wetness.

He gripped the base of his cock to hold it upright, letting you anchor yourself against him to get the perfect angle. Once you hovered over the top of him, slowly you started to guide your hips down onto his, the tip of his cock crowning your entrance. The delicious stretch of his thick head breached your entrance with resistance, too big for you. But you weren’t a quitter and were needing to make him fit. Rolling your hips against the tip, slowly you felt it push further inside of you, your muscles relaxing at the intrusion. “Oh fuck, god you’re so tight.” He breathed out, holding your hips for leverage. Seeing Cooper go pliant under you was the sexiest thing you had seen, all yours for the taking. He watched you as if you were a goddess, basking in all your glory as every inch slowly was seated inside of you.

Halfway down his erect cock, you felt the tip slide directly against your g-spot, seeing stars at the renewed pressure against it. A mewling moan made itself present, eyes rolling backwards to combat the lightheadedness. “That’s it pretty girl, take it slow.” The coaxing from Cooper was only making you wetter, which in turn was making it so much easier to take him. The compliments from the man below you was too hot to handle, you thought you would perish on the spot if he sweet talked you again. Then again, you’d be putty in his hands the second he started to talk dirty. As you slid down the last few inches of Cooper’s cock, you felt the hair at his base rub against you, causing you to roll your hips forward on him, soliciting a delicious man from the depths of him. “Such a good girl,” Cooper keened. Hearing the praise slip from his mouth was causing you to forget everything that happened earlier, what he is. All you could think about was how deep he was inside of you, and how perfect it felt. You were made for him, your body fit with his so perfect. No one would ever compare.

“Shit, C-Cooper.” The words had a mind of their own as it fell out of your mouth, not thinking about anything expect the thick rigids of his cock against your walls. You started to slide back and forth on his cock, letting the pleasure envelop you. Both of your hands reached behind you to rest on his thick thighs; The rough denim burning your palms. It was so worth it though; the pain amplified the pleasure. You were losing yourself with every slide you created, hitting the exact spot you needed to each time. His cock was made for you. Leaning forward, Cooper reached his hand up to cross across your back, pulling you forward more so he could place his forehead between the valley of your breast, resting against the middle of your bra. “I know, baby. I know. It feels too fucking good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” You replied absentmindedly, letting your pussy do all the talking. Cooper started to fuck up into you, needing to feel the pleasure you were. All the teasing was driving him mad, if he didn’t move but let you do all the work – there would be no fun in it. Sure, he loved watching you take control and use him for your own pleasure but, at the end of the day – you now belonged to him. He was going to be damned if you got yourself off. No, he needed to be the one to make you cum until you saw stars. “You’re taking me so well, honey.” The sweet nature of his words set you off like the Fourth of July – lighting up your entire body. What made it even better was when he smacked that down with his roughened nature, smacking your ass hard enough to leave bruises. “I’ll be breaking in this body really good.”

That was enough for that familiar flutter to work its way into your lower belly, setting you ablaze from the inside, out. He enjoyed watching you go dumb on his cock, letting the pleasure take over enough to where you were drunk on him. The pleasure crested behind his eyes as well, just thinking about all the endless possibilities for the two of you. “Maybe I’ll even knock you up, put a baby in you, hm?” Your eyes shot wide open to stare at Cooper, his own eyes challenging you. He was provoking a reaction, using your breeding kink against you. Sly motherfucker. Your body’s reaction to the thought was involuntary, as were your words. “Fuuuck,” you manage to slip out as you leaned forth to balance yourself in his lap, feeling your body vibrate with every thrust.

The way your cunt gripped Cooper’s cock was too much for you, the pleasure spreading to every orifice on your body. You couldn’t handle it, the stars began to bloom as you thought about having his baby. How depraved you had to be to enjoy it, and how you knew he was going to make it a reality. Cooper tossed his head back as his thumb connected with your clit, rubbing the hardened nub gently with his calloused finger. The sensation only made everything more intense, he couldn’t stop, neither could you. You were a drug, and he was becoming so addicted. “Oh, you really must love that idea. Walking around with a married man’s mark in you. Naughty, naughty girl.”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t. There was something about being bred by Cooper that healed something inside of you. It was also the fact that he was a husband already, a father, making him a daddy again would be a gift. Yet you knew you should feel guilty – you should stop and walk away. But where was the fun in that? After all, you’re just as sick and depraved as he is. It would be a shame to pass on the opportunity. “I’m fucking obsessed with you. You’re never leaving me, now.” Cooper was egging you on, wanting you to hit your peak soon enough. He knew if you took too long up here then Moira would come and try to find you, cutting this fun short. Now that was something he couldn’t have. He needed all of you. He hoped you knew that you were never getting away from him, he was going to find you in every life. “A-All yours. All y-yours!” It was true, you were all his now, whether you wanted to or not once the sex ended.

“That’s fucking right I am, I own you.” The primal grunts he showered the VIP room in caused your skin to prickle. The sheen of sweat on your face creating an ethereal glow under the neon lights. It felt like magic, like you were high. Every sense was amplified and putting you on edge. It was a raw nerve, masking its way as lust and love inside of you. This was fucked up, so fucked up! But you couldn’t help yourself, you needed more. “I-I’m gonna cum! Cooper, please!” You scream out, nails dragging down his covered chest; How you wish you could press yourself against his body, feeling you fully enveloped within in. Your high was cresting, ready to hits its peak. But of course you refused to cum unless Cooper gave you permission, your body officially giving up on sanity and leaning towards the crazy. “Cum then, baby. Let daddy take care of you.”

That was all you needed to hear to hit your orgasm. You couldn't handle it anymore, you couldn't begin to comprehend what you were doing anymore. The sex, the love making, it was too good for words. What was even better was the supple embrace of your orgasm - tossing you around like you were nothing. Ocean, one big body of water. The nothingness of waves crashing around you - freedom keeping you afloat. You were weightless as you reached your next high, the blissful graze of it all cresting like a wave, wanting to sweep you deeper into the depths of darkness. The spasms of your silken walls around Cooper’s velvety cock made you scream out - almost as if you were being skinned alive. The pleasure was too much, it felt too good to keep it all inside. All of the club no doubt could hear your screams of endless pleasure. He was grateful he could make you come so hard, your nails dragging along the bare expanse of his alabaster back, causing vermillion stripes to appear. “That’s a good girl. Now, daddy’s turn.”

Gripping onto your hips - Cooper started to snap his within yours. Each stroke of his cock inside of you felt like a burst of wildfire; Burning bright and beautiful, claiming you in each way he saw fit. You always heard of the phrase being cock dumb, never knowing the full intent of its meaning until you were in the position to do so. Every thrust being produced by Cooper sent you into an internal frenzy, moans slipping from your mouth like it was prayers to whatever God listened. Begging and begging for your high with every motion, Cooper became intoxicated by you - your gorgeous body on full display, pliable just for him. Knowing no one else would ever see you in this position again - he was eternally yours as you were his. While Cooper was dealing with his internal monologue, you were basking in the glory of his member. Eyes fell closed while your head pressed backwards, going with the flow of each thrust - letting those whimpers be heard through and through. “Fucking whore. Fucking take that!” Cooper laments, huffing with every thrust produced, you look up at him with doe eyes, meeting his gaze easily without hesitation. Something in Cooper’s chest burst with a blinding array of colors and swirls.

“I’m going to ruin you so good. You’re not going anywhere sweet thing, you’re staying right here.” Cooper started, trying to get the words out in between the deep seeded lust you could provide him. But it was his lips against your cheek, to your ear. Your silence coaxed him forth to finish his thought. “Yes!” Your giggle lit up Cooper’s ears, causing you both to moan wildly during the session - his cock never stopping its spears deep within you. Through your moans were moments of broken pants. Rolls of Cooper’s hips inside of you made you toss your head back once more, feeling the curly hairs at the base of his length rub soothingly against your clit - igniting that slow burn with a delicious tang. “Fuck, fuck!” I’m gonna cum inside of you. And you’re gonna take it like a good girl, right? Gonna carry this real good for me?”

In the moment everything felt like it stopped, your body seizing under the sadist touch of Cooper Adams. Hearing how Cooper wanted to breed you, so you hoped, made everything in your body shut down almost instantly. “Yes!” Screaming with the single punches of his cock to your cervix, you yelled out in unison with the thrusts; "Yes, sir!” Leaning forth you made sure to press your forehead to his, shallowing your breaths to be in time with his. Cooper felt your motions, moving a singular hand up to cup the back of your neck. Being in place meant he could watch every emotion run its course. Broken down and exposed, like a nerve to the elements - but you would not be caused any harm, this nerve was going to heal slowly but surely, being aided by your own knight. A perverted, serial killing, sick and twisted knight.

Smiles upon smiles ran for miles as you met Cooper’s expression, seeing the lust even following up in his own eyes - matching the deep seeded swirls in yours. Eruptions of butterflies flew through your stomach; A zoo released from its restraints - pounding around to aid in the overwhelming bliss. You felt safe. Cooper wrapped his arms around your torso to push you far into his chest, causing you to return the grip. There you both were; Cooper pounding into you while both bodies hugged one another.

Both of your highs were dangerously close to exploding, and there was no way you could hold on any longer. Cooper’s too-talented-for-his-own-good mouth was working like a gear to pump out all of the dirtiness you have been craving for eons. The sinful dialect you never knew he could produce slipped between parted cracked lips. Just like that, the world stopped spinning for the two of you. A wave rushed over both of your figures, jolting your souls into the stratosphere. Like a ton of bricks hitting, you with a mac truck, you felt every spurt of your high aid in Cooper’s - causing your interior walls to be painted stark white. Each clench your cunt produced milked this man for all he was worth. As the overstimulation kicked in, Cooper stopped his thrusts as you stopped your gyrations, letting you both take a well needed breather. Both of your foreheads were pressed against one another, basking in the light of the moment. The heavy stench of sex and sweat clung to the clean air. Bated breaths filled the silence of the house, not even a mouse was stirring. Cooper’s cock pulsated over and over again within your velvety walls, giving you a new paint job, one that was sating you like no tomorrow. It was the simple thought of carrying Cooper’s child that made you burst at the seams, knowing he wanted all of Philly to see the mark he left on you. You were never going to complain about it, no you were proud to be his. “Know this, sweet girl. You ever try to run away, leave, or escape me? It will be the last thing you ever do. You’re mine. Here. Now. Forever. In every life, I own you.”

[landograndprix]

╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞ iii

part two - part four

➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.

➪ the attention is nice even if it's not from Charles.

➪ established relationship mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando

➪ let's add some spice ☺ again, thanks for the love, love reading your guys thoughts and talk about it 🥰 google translate is my bestest friend

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y/nusername

📍 Baku, Azerbaijan

liked by landonorris, noellepicard and 561,999 others

y/nusername day 'n night ☀️🌛

tagged: charles_leclerc, manon_roux

view all 1,672 comments

charliecharlie mother being back on the grid and serving cunt again made my day <3

leclerc_16 CHARLES POLE WHOOP WHOOOP 🤩

norrizz will you be at the race tomorrow?

↳ y/nusername yes ☺

charloslesainz I'm seeing a camera..vlogging, did lando influence you for a jpg account? 👀

noellepicard bring my baby girl back, I miss her

↳ y/nusername she's packing her bags as we speak, putting her on the first flight back

noellepicard will be waiting for her

y/ncharles they grow up so fast 😫

lestappen116 hoping for a charles win tomorrow!

carlandooo zoë being the cutest once again ❤️

julieeeexo girl you have to tell us mamma's how you manage traveling with a baby, already dreading my 4 hours flight in 1 months 😭

↳ y/nusername what do you think the camera is for babes? 👀

yukisan I'm not a mom but I'll be watching these videos religiously

landonorris upsetting

↳ y/nusername I will not put my daughter in mclaren merch

landonorris the betrayal is unreal

norry4 lando trying to make zoë a mclaren baby is such a lando thing to do 💀

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y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by landonorris, noellepicard and 316,678 comments

y/nusername 🛀

view all 1,816 comments

charliecharlie MOM?!?!

bott_ass now THAT is a milf 👀

noellepicard oh my god, zoë her mom got it going on 🥵

↳ y/nusername so does her aunt 😍

noellepicard stop it, you're going to make me blush

leonardb Charles is one lucky man

norrizz mommy? no. mommy? sorry. mommy? no– 😫

stephan00 gaddamn I love milfs

tommyf Charles could you do us a favor and fumble this one and give us lads a chance?

↳ norry4 nah all these men in the comments have me crying tears lmfao

yukisan just saw a guy comment 'I'm 18 but real mature for my age' 💀

norry4 like did they not notice y/n being fine as hell on TV? 💀

yukisan she ain't showing so much skin during interviews though 😂

francisca.cgomes stunning 😍

↳ y/nusername you are 😍

manon_roux man I love milfs

↳ noellepicard we've been known babes, it's the hitting on every single mom you meet that gave it away

manon_roux imagine being attracted to men

noellepicard not by choice unfortunately

hamilt44n everyday I learn a bit more about this group of friends and they come out more unhinged everytime

robyn_diaz what a hottie 🔥

↳ landoscar babe are you blind, your man is hiding in the likes

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y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by landonorris, francisca.cgomes and 324,567 likes

y/nusername the homebody club 🍼🍷

view all 1,672 comments

julieeeexo nothing better than being at home 🥰

norrizz you and me bestie, can I join the club?

leclerc_16 I'd love for you to give us some book recommendations because goddamn, that's the book collection of my dreams 😭

↳ carlito55 I second that and cooking videos!

ricric yeah why don't we make her a boring ass influencer mom? I mean she's well on her way, she's become so boring 💀

carlito55 why are you still here then if it bothers you so much..I rather be a boring loving mom than be like you 🤮

leclerc_16 sorry that your life is so miserable that you feel the need to drag others down.

manon_roux now that's a club I want to be at 🕺

↳ y/nusername we only serve the good milk, cold coffee and luke warm wines

landonorris turn up in the club 🍼

norry4 I am so confused lmfao, they really became besties huh?

lewisham I want you to adopt me like right now 😔

sainzcarlos her recent content is giving ✨ single mom ✨ not one mention of charles or anything..

↳ yukisan the season is not over yet, Charles is still racing..I'm sure they'll be spending plenty of time together during the winter break

arthuuuur fr and the fact that lando is in her comments and liking every single post isn't helping either 💀

charlesgirlies so you guys know when they are together or not? So you know when they call each other or not? pretty sure she mentioned 'facetiming daddy' in her last vlog but okay

landonorris still no papaya

↳ y/nusername thank god no ☺

robyn_diaz stop turning this cutie into a mclaren fan 😂

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y/nusername posted to their story

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y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 419,782 others

y/nusername pjs kinda day 💤

view all 1,190 comments

charlesgirlies can I join, love me a pjs kinda day!

noellepicard okay but like..where was my invite? 😔

charliecharlie where'd you get your pjs from?

↳ leclerc_16 you should follow this account that steals y/n her outfits!

charles_leclerc ❤️

↳ hamilt44n oh look he's still alive

norry4 haven't seen you here in a while

y/nusername ❤️

sharl16 cuties 😍

bott_ass the best kind of days!

manon_roux matching with the babe again

↳ y/nusername always 🥰

charloslesainz just y/n and her mini me 🥰

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Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon

Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader @champagneproblems17 @norwayxo @sunny44

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2

[manikas-whims]

LADS men when you start dating someone, who later on mistreats you

got this idea and wanted to get it out of my system ♡

ZAYNE

❄️ He isn't thrilled by the revelation at all but he won't say it outright because its not his place to tell you who to date or not.

❄️ However, his dislike does show with the way his brows knit together, the flare of his nostrils with every sharp intake of breath or how his lips turn down just slightest every time you bring up this person’s name.

❄️ Every single praise for this person will arouse a sense of self-doubt in him. After all, it's better you date someone like them. Their evol will never put you in danger like Zayne's can. And they would never skip meetings due to their schedule. (Ofc if you could hear his thoughts, you'd immediately shun them from Zayne's mind.)

❄️ If this person ever hurts you emotionally or physically, then best believe he'll freeze hell itself if he has to in order to track this person down.

“How dare you do this to Y/N!?” Zayne’s voice is harsh, cold radiating off his arms in dangerous yet controlled wisps.

And it takes you hugging him from behind, your head resting on his back, tears from your eyes soaking into the fabric of his coat, to stop him.

“Zayne, stop. You don't need to hurt yourself.” You mumble into the fabric of his coat, your arms slipping down to entwine your fingers with his chilling ones. You can already see the hint of a fresh scar developing on the back of his hand, and you won't be able to live with yourself if you see him getting hurt because of you dating a horrible person.

The prickly sensation begins dissipating from his hands and despite the scars, the softness returns into his skin. He turns around, drawing you into a hug with one arm. You can still see his chest rising and falling due to how much he'd been exerting himself.

“Fine.” He lets out a deep breath and finally flashes you the rare warm smile he only keeps for you. “Let’s go.”

And the two of you leave together.

XAVIER

⭐ Not that you're supposed to stay in this “will they? won't they?” situationship with your apartment neighbor forever but Xavier is just so jealous. His eyes darken, and his mood becomes sullen at the mere mention of this person.

⭐ Every time you try praising them, Xavier is going to interrupt and nitpick on how "they're always late on dates", "don't even check up on you at work", "give off a shady vibe",...the more he shit-talks about this person, the more ridiculous his words get.

⭐ He definitely gets a little touchy. After all, seeing you with someone else makes him feel as if he isn't as close to you. He makes sure this person sees his hand casually around your waist. And petty as it may seem, he's also deliberately gonna leave his hoodie and his other stuff at your place to remind you of himself.

⭐ If this person ever hurts you emotionally or physically, then no amount of prayers will spare this person to see the light of another day.

Xavier happens to see this person trying to approach you once more outside the apartment complex with words that barely sound like an apology. Swift as ever, he steps in front of you.

“You got some nerve showing up here after what you did to Y/N.” He says to them, an edge in his usually gentle voice.

He is as silent and deadly as you've seen him in the throes of battle, cutting down the Wanderers without a hint of mercy in his strikes. And you gulp down the tension in the air.

You know what he's capable of. You can't let him unleash the power of his evol simply because of your ex-partner maltreating you.

You bring your hand out and place it upon his heart, just like you'd done on your first encounter with him. Only this time it's not to resonate your evol with his but to push him back.

You force a smile on your face despite the messy state of your emotions. “Xav, let's grab a bite. I'm craving hotpot.”

His eyes are unflinching, and for a moment you wonder if even the bait of some tasty meat will fail to lure him. But then, a moment later he scoffs at the person and looks down at you, his gaze softening as he does so. “Alright. If that’s what you want.”

He wraps his fingers around your hand– the same one that's still resting upon his chest– and pulls you along.

RAFAYEL

🌊 He's jealous but even more than that, he's disappointed in your choice. You can do way better than this. Actually, in his opinion, you are way out of this person's league, and deserve nothing but perfection when it comes to a partner.

🌊 He's quite vocal about his dislike, openly saying how suspicious he finds this person and how if you wanna indulge in wasting your precious time, you'd rather waste it on him.

🌊 He complains how you've changed. How you don't hang-out with him as much and pay less visits to his studio. Seeing you with someone else makes the ache in his heart more agonizing than ever. Rafayel wonders what you see in them? Do they cherish you more than him?

🌊 If this person ever hurts you emotionally or physically, then he won't hesitate from raising the tides of the Whitesand Bay in order to drown them.

You frantically chase after Rafayel as he corners this person. You've never seen this magnitude of fury in his beautiful eyes.

Rafayel grabs them by the front of their shirt, his voice scalding as he smirks in annoyance, “So you've finally shown your true colors to Y/N, huh?”

You can feel the temperature rising just a little, the atmosphere around feeling a lot warmer than before. Your nose catches the whiff of something burning and you realize there's smoke emanating from that person's collar.

It's scary.

Seeing someone who holds even a paintbrush so tenderly act like this. And no, you're not afraid of him for you know Rafayel will never hurt you. You're afraid for this person. You're afraid of what Rafayel is capable of becoming if you let him go on like this.

Cautiously, you wrap your hand around his wrist and free this person from his hold. The fabric of their shirt appears to be slightly charred but there's no harm done otherwise.

“Come on, Rafayel, ” You tug his wrist to pull him to you. “We shouldn't bother with the likes of them.”

He fixes his gaze on the person one last time. “Count yourself lucky Y/N is here! Or else..”

He pries his hand out of your grasp and pats your head. His smile returns, as does the warmth in his eyes and he puts an arm around your waist. “So, where are we going?”

SYLUS VERSION [HERE]

» MASTERLIST «

[lycandrophile]

it's silly but the biggest reason why im not into t yet is bc im so afraid of losing my hair. do you have any solutions/tips for it?

first of all, i don’t think it’s silly — it’s natural to be worried when hair loss is talked about by so many people as like…one of the worst results of aging for men. listening to my dad talk about how much he hates balding definitely did not make me feel particularly good about the knowledge that i may very well be joining him someday. i’m not saying the fear is right, because i don’t think hair loss is something awful that we should avoid at all costs, but it’s an understandable fear given the beauty standards we’re working with, and it’s one that a lot of us (myself included) feel.

one thing that’s helped me is just…paying more attention to the guys that i interact with on a daily basis. i’ve learned two things from it: 1) hair loss is super fucking common. i’d say it’s much harder to find an adult man who isn’t balding at all than it is to find one who’s completely bald. and 2) if you forget everything you’ve been told about how bad hair loss is, you’ll realize that quite frankly, every single one of those guys looks totally fucking fine. it doesn’t ruin their appearance and make them ugly, it looks totally natural and isn’t really even something you’d notice if you weren’t looking for it. we put so much weight on it but it’s really just not that big of a deal. i’ll hear my parents talk shit about men in my family who are losing their hair when i didn’t even notice a difference last time i saw them. it’s one of those things (like so many other appearance-related things) that you really only notice at all because you’ve been taught that you’re supposed to care about it.

this isn’t something i’ve done personally, but if you really want to desensitize yourself to the idea of it, embrace the time-honored queer tradition of just shaving your whole damn head! find out what you’d look like without hair, find out how you feel about it and what you can do that makes you feel good about your appearance without hair, test the waters while it’s still a temporary change and not something permanent. that way, it won’t feel like this big scary unknown, and you’ll actually have a frame of reference for your feelings about how you look without hair rather than accepting the societal assumption that you’ll inevitably hate it. if you don’t want to actually shave your head, you could also just fuck around with bald filters or photoshop and see what happens.

oh, and if you’re attracted to men, keep an eye out for guys who are bald or balding and also hot as fuck. in my experience, there’s no insecurity or potential future insecurity that being gay for other men hasn’t helped me with. just off the top of my head, i can think of a couple actors who i think are absolutely fucking gorgeous who have helped me get over my fears about losing my hair. despite what our anti-aging-obsessed world might want you to think, there is no such thing as a physical feature that automatically makes someone less attractive, and while making attractiveness less of a priority in your life is good, it can’t hurt to also give yourself some proof that actually, you might lose your hair and look hot as hell doing it.

basically, entertain the possibility that it won’t be a bad thing at all! whether that’s just because it turns out to be a neutral thing for you or because you end up actually liking it, it’s not an inherently bad thing. i’ve ended up liking a lot of things that were “supposed to” be bad effects of t — i love the weight i’ve gained and the new shape it gives my body, i get a lot of gender euphoria from the fact that my acne is now on parts of my face that i saw a lot of guys in high school get it and i’m not complaining about the scars i get from it either because i’ve always liked the added texture that acne scars give my skin, and so on. i think there’s a lot of joy to be had in the changes we’re taught to fear, once we look past that conditioning and actually explore how we feel about it.

but if it’s something you really don’t want and you just want to improve your chances of not having to deal with it, it’s not like there’s nothing you can do! products like finasteride (oral) and minoxidil (usually topical but i think there might also be oral versions) are pretty commonly used among trans guys, for the purpose of avoiding hair loss and for other reasons, and there are plenty of other anti-hair loss products out there (though i don’t know how effective any one of them might be). if it’s a big enough deal for you, you can just decide that you’ll go off of t if/when you start noticing signs of it, since no longer having higher t levels would stop the process in its tracks. and if you don’t find prevention options that work for you so it ends up happening, you can always explore different hair styles (judging by the pattern of hair loss i see in my family, i suspect that keeping my hair long would make it less obvious if i started losing mine), find your preferred method of covering it when you don’t feel good about it (personally i love a good beanie generally and would probably wear them a lot more if i didn’t have hair to worry about because my main complaint is the way they press my hair onto my neck), or just shave it all off if you don’t like the look of the partial balding but don’t mind a shaved head. the point being — you have options!

at the end of the day, whether you go on t or not, you’re going to see your body change as you age in ways that aren’t always going to be attractive to others or aesthetically pleasing to you. that’s just the reality of having a body. even if you never went on t, you’d get older and you might see your hair thin out even if you don’t bald, you’ll see your skin start to wrinkle and sag in places that used to be smooth, your metabolism might slow or your body fat might start to gather in new places; hell, you might lose your hair for a totally different reason and end up in the same place but without the benefits of having been on t that whole time. life is full of bodily changes like that. transphobes will fearmonger about the permanent changes of testosterone all day long but the truth is, there is no escaping permanent bodily changes. whether or not you go on t, your body now isn’t the same as it will be in 1 or 5 or 10 or 20 or 50 years, just like it isn’t the same as it was at any point in your life before now. our bodies are never supposed to stop growing and aging and changing throughout our lives. there’s no guaranteeing that we’ll love every single change our bodies go through, but that’s okay! there are so many things in life that are more important than the way our bodies look. even if you go on t and lose your hair and don’t like how it looks, your life won’t be ruined; plenty of other things will bring you joy and more than make up for the insecurities.

just think about the gender euphoria and relief from dysphoria that t could give you. would losing your hair be bad enough to outweigh all of that? or is it just the pressure of a society that decided balding is bad that’s making you fear one single change despite how much joy you could have if you let that fear go? only you can decide if going on t is worth the potential downsides for you, but i suspect that for most of us, the benefits of going on t far outweigh the possibility of side effects like hair loss happening down the line.

[meowhara]

Mafia!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Bunny Hybrid!Reader

tw : abuse, mistreatment, usage of bad languages, death, kidnapping

synopsis : In a world where hybrids are becoming a common thing. Scientists sells their experiments for a very high price in auctions, making it possible for anyone with such kind of money to own a hybrid or even more

author's note : OMG! this will be my very first fanfic ever. I hope y'all enjoy this little fanfic I made in such a very short time. I'm so so sorry if there's anything wrong with my grammars or maybe you got confused by how I write things in general. English isn't my first language :)

𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓷𝓮, 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓽𝔀𝓸, 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮

Experimenting with human beings are normal by now all around the world, making hybrids one of the most expensive and valuable assets. They're usually sold with a very high price in auctions, anyone who's able to lay a hand on those hybrids must be some very crazy rich and lucky people.

You're those kind of fine breed, sold for an unbelievably high price. But sadly luck wasn't on your side due to how irresponsible your new owner is. He never took care of you like how people should took care of hybrids. He abandoned you, feeding you poorly, using you only for your small and fragile body. Treating you like an animal and make you do his daily chores such as cooking, cleaning, and even doing his laundry. But you never complain, there's nothing you can do and nowhere to escape.

You don't even know how the hell he was able to purchase you from the auction since he doesn't even look like a wealthy man at all. Who's job is only to sell and purchase drugs from here and there then spend shit ton of money for women and other useless things. He woke up late at the day just to hurt you then leave and came back late at night. Sometimes he didn't even bother to come back home, leaving you hungry and lonely inside his small and packed house in the middle of nowhere.

For the past moths he has been stealing drugs from Mafia!Miguel. Miguel tried to track him down for months without any avail and lost him every single time. After learning your owner's pattern for months, he's finally able to caught him off guard.

But the bastard ran back home and hide just before Miguel catch him. Your owner ran back home and locked the doors, telling you to shut the fuck up if anyone come over to look for him and to not tell his whereabouts.

Miguel is one step ahead this time and he's able to track your owner's house. He then banged on the door which made you jumped in surprise. "Open the damn door, you bastard! I know you're inside." He shouted as he kept banging on the door with his men following and standing by behind him, guns in their hands.

Innocently, you walk over the door and open the door slightly ajar and peeked outside just to met his eyes. Miguel was shocked when his eyes met with your big vulnerable eyes and fluffy bunny ears, looking almost as if you're pleading with a small pout on your face. "Yes?" You said shyly with shaky voice. Miguel looks back at his men in confusion then look back at you. "Hello, little one. Is there anyone inside?" He asked, trying to be less intimidating and as friendly as possible in order not to scare you. You hesitated to answer but you shook your head anyway, since it's seems like the only safe answer to give. He examines your beautiful and small figure from head to toe just to find bruises everywhere then to your dirty clothes that you're wearing. You look up at him with tired eyes and flat expression, making you look like a broken doll.

Miguel is not buying your obvious lie. "Are you sure? You look... Tired. Are you okay?" He asked again. You just nod and rush to close the door but Miguel stopped you from doing so. He grabbed on the door and push it back open, making you stumbling back from the force. "Look, I don't want to hurt you. But I need to take a look inside, okay?" He gave signals to his men to search the house for your owner.

He didn't expect you to panic and starts shouting at him "No! Please! Master will get mad." You said as your eyes starts to well in tears, "He'll hit me and lock me up in the basement again..." You said while sobbing and pulling on his sleeve. Miguel can feel his heart breaking into pieces from how adorably you cried in front of him. As he wanted to hug you and calm you down, his men came back and drags your owner with them. He got a black eye on his right eye due to a hard blow given by Miguel's men right on his face when he tried to run away. They throw him on the floor to force him to get on his knees in front of Miguel.

When your eyes met his you ran towards your master in worry. "Master! Are you okay?" You got on your knees to check on him, even if he's a very cruel and irresponsible master you can't help but feel worried of him getting hurt. But instead of getting any answer back from him, he gave you a very hard and strong punch on the face. You stumbled back in shock and whimpers in pain as you cover your face with your palms from the fear and pain. "You useless bitch! I told you not to let them in!" As he's about to hit you again, Miguel stepped forward to protect you and kick that bastard's stomach with full force in anger. He still couldn't believe that a little angle like you would care so much about a devil like him.

He groans in pain from Miguel's kick and Miguel turned to look at you as you bleed from your nose and cry on the floor. Your owner look up at Miguel then at you "Oh I see what this is all about now. You like her don't you? Fine then, take her away as a compensation. She is a very fine and expensive hybrid." He said with a low chuckle as he gave you a dirty look. "Use her as a cock sleeve or just do anything you like at her, let all of your anger out at her as if she's a punching bag. You won't ever hear a peep out of her mouth, she's well trained for that." Miguel can feel himself boiling in anger but his eyes won't leave your figure, no matter how hard he tried. The idea of a pretty thing like you used and abused by someone like him are just too much for him to even imagine.

Yes, he is indeed a cruel mafia leader. He killed and will kill anyone who got in his way without any remorse or hesitation and punish those who got on his nerves. But seeing how a pure little thing like you getting such a horrible treatment without you deserving any of it, made him feel sick to the pit of his stomach. He got too deep into his thought as he pull a gun out from his pocket without realizing and thinking it through then shot your owner right at his face as you watch the scene in front of you in horror.

The bastard died instantly, his body made a loud thud noise when it hit the floor and blood starts to stain the carpet underneath. Your eyes widened as tears streams down your cheek. Miguel then turned and walks towards you slowly but you stood up and ran away as fast as you can towards your master's bedroom and lock yourself while crying. His men look at Miguel, waiting for his next order. "I'll talk to her." He said with a loud sigh.

He starts knocking at the door, "Little one, please open the door. I won't hurt you I promise." You starts to panic "No go away! Leave me alone! You just killed my master!" You shouted back. Deep down you know that you should be glad that Miguel had killed your master but that makes you feel powerless, knowing that Miguel is capable of hurting anyone let alone killing them.

"I have to okay? He got on my nerves and worse, he hurt you." He spoke again from the other side of the door. "You know nothing about me!" Tears starts to fall even faster from your eyes as the image of your master's dead body kept playing in your head. "Just open this door so I don't need to force it open myself." He said, starting to get frustrated by your behavior.

You ignores him and sat down in the corner of the room, hoping that he'll just go away and leave you alone. He kept knocking at the door but you refused to open it for him. "Fine you won't open this door? I'll have to force it open then." He said before he starts banging harder and harder on the door, cracking it with each of his forcefull movements against the door.

You know very well from how massive he looks that he'll break down the door easily if he wants to. You starts glancing around the room to look for something to protect yourself just incase if Miguel is trying to hurt you. You've been in this room a thousand time when your master forced you to sleep with him but you're never allowed to open his closet or drawers even when you're told to clean his room for him.

Opening the nearest drawer, you starts rummaging to find something sharp to protect yourself. To your surprise you can feel your hand brushing against a hard and cold metal. You never knew your master hid a small gun in his bedroom this whole time but now you're glad he did. Just as you get your hand on the gun the door bursts open and you yelped in surprise. You then points the gun at Miguel "Don't come any closer! Or I'll— I'll shoot you." You said hesitantly.

Miguel look at the gun in your hand with a expressionless face then walks towards you. "I— I said go away!" A step closer from Miguel means a step back from you. But he kept walking closer and ignoring the fact that you have a gun in your hands. Your back hit the wall, making it impossible for you to take another step back from him. He grabbed your hands and points the gun directly at his chest to challenge you. "Go on. Shoot me." He said menacingly. A shiver went down your spine as your hands clenches around the gun and hesitation floods your mind. You never hurt anyone before, how on earth are you going to shoot him?

Your eyes look up at him still with tears on display and your bunny ears tensed then pinned flat back behind you head in fear. Hands trembling badly as you pressed the gun deeper into his chest, not knowing what to do. "That's what I thought." He said before quickly ripped the gun from your hand easily then threw it away to the other side of the room.

You tried to run but he grabbed you wrist and threw you on the floor. "Stop making this harder on yourself." He said before crouching down to meet your eyes. "Please don't hurt me..." You begged while sobbing, hoping that he'll pity you. He just look at your face while caressing your cheek with his massive thumb. Making your face seems so much smaller compared to his hand. "To have such a pretty thing in front of me for free. How lucky of me." He continues to caress your face and admiring your beauty with the feeling of wanting to own you all to himself. Having you safe by his side in his mansion and to have you sleep by his side at night.

But his fantasy must be interrupted by his duty as a mafia leader. "Boss, it's Lyla." One of his men interrupted. "Tell her I'll be there in 10 minutes." He said with so much authority in his voice. "What about her?" His other man looked over at your vulnerable state. Your eyes are focused on Miguel, anticipating his next move. He cussed to himself and took out a syringe from his pocket. "W— what's that for?" You asked nervously. "This? Oh I bring these all the time incase if I need to take a pretty thing like you home." Miguel then cupped you face with one of his free hand and move your face to the side so he could inject your neck easier.

Your hand grabbed his hand, the one that's cupping your cheek. "I don't want this. Please just let me go." He ignores your plea and kissed your cheek softly. "Don't worry little thing, this will only hurt a little okay? Just obey and you'll be just fine." You shook your head but he injected you right away with the syringe. "Good girl." Your body starts to feel numb right away as tears continue to stream down your face. You rest your head against his chest for support. "Shhh that's it, just fall asleep for me like a good girl you are." He pulls you into a hug and starts caressing your hair this time. Your vision starts to blur as darkness starts to invade. Soon you're limp against his chest, breathing softly and peacefully.

He smiled and kissed your forehead before carrying you in his arms in a bridal style. "Let's get going, we don't want the cops to be here anytime soon." He said as he rushed towards his car with you in his arms and his men following behind him. He looked down at your unconscious form in his arms, "Sleep tight, little one."

[panbotter]

Hey so in reference to my previous ask, can you do one were the reader is having trouble controlling their powers (you can decide those) and either Kurt or Erik comfort them after a bad day and end up confessing to the reader. You can ad smut if you want but if not that's totally fine too☺️.

Your Existence is Grand

Erik Lehnsherr x gn!reader

Erik notices you having a rough day with your powers and decides to shower you with praise.

(This is my first fanfic literally ever so feedback appreciated, but also... Sorry for any mistakes!!!!)

Trigger warnings: cursing, suggestive themes (I don't know what else to write here, pls let me know if there's anything else I should add!)

The air around me begins buzzing and crackling, becoming charged with electricity and I sigh, deeply frustrated before I reach for the metal doorknob in front of me and receive a shock so strong that all the muscles in my arm cramp up painfully. I curse under my breath, forcing my arm to bend and stretch the tense muscles as I walk into the lounge, getting a glimpse of the others outside. Some might say I’d been gifted with a particularly powerful mutation, that it made me strong and intimidating. That I am admired for it, as if it’s a blessing to be grateful for.

But in this god-forsaken world, all I could see was a curse that plagued my body. I never bothered to understand the science behind it, as much as others might have tried to explain it to me. Something about the electricity in my body behaving abnormally, affecting the air around me and in turn, other electronics or conductors of electricity, turning me into a walking hazard around power lines, or thunderstorms. Let's not even mention the sheer amount of electrical fires I’ve caused. Sure, it sounds cool. But the reality is basically hell.

One of the ‘best’ parts about my mutation is that it is terribly unstable, especially when you’re constantly surrounded by electricity no matter where you go. Everyone else who charges up some static then touches a piece of metal receives a little sting from a silly little shock. It might be a little funny or perhaps surprising! Maybe it happens when you touch fingers with someone else and you shock each other, what a cute moment!

Try getting fucking electrocuted every single time.

Nowhere near as cute, nor as fun.

Some days are worse than others and the more restless I become, the worse it is for me in the end. But unfortunately, I can’t lay in bed immobile for an entire day to lower the voltage my body is producing, resulting in my current conundrum. Avoiding the rest of the X-Men in order to avoid any potential accidents, especially with Jubilee. Fireworks and a highly-charged mutant body surrounded by a bunch of high-tech only spells out bad news. Luckily, it seems like most of them were outside on the basketball court. That’s what I thought, at least.

“I take it you’re having a bad voltage day?” the voice of none other than Magneto startles me out of my thinking. It’s been more than a few months of him living here with us, but his presence is still unexpected. I had a hard time training the knee-jerk defensive reaction out of my body for the first few days, my body becoming charged up so quickly that I wouldn’t even have the chance to blink before I shot a bolt of electricity at him.

He was quick to show that a little spark didn’t do much to him, given that he was essentially a walking magnetic field.

I turn to him, his large form standing at the entrance to the lounge, “What makes you say that?” I turn back to watch as Scott and Logan start another argument, their voices muffled by the glass.

“The air keeps crackling and I have a hard time believing there’s a storm inside the building” he approaches until he pauses at my side. I chuckle a little, giving a wince once I feel my sore muscles constrict. He turns to watch me.

“Hm, I don’t know, maybe Storm has had enough of those two at each other’s throats” I try to joke but my voice falters, as my heart begins to race again and the sound of the air buzzing around me becomes overwhelming. Tremors begin rippling across my muscles, a mixture of them cramping and relaxing too fast for me to keep up with. Losing the strength in my legs, I stretch a hand out toward the glass in front of me to hold myself up but I miss the glass by a couple inches. Erik’s hands are quick to grab onto my arms before pulling me into his chest, supporting my weight as the crackling noise fills my ears and I let out a pained shout. My body releases a strong burst of electricity, most of it absorbed by Erik’s magnetic field, whilst the rest causes the power in the building to go out. I pant loudly, trying to catch my breath, feeling like my heart might’ve stopped in the middle of that.

The lights flicker around us before the power in the school hums back to life. Erik’s hands are still around me, I realize before beginning to step away, but his hold on me tightens. He pulls me back against his chest and I try to fight back the heat that’s slowly creeping up to my face. This is a bit embarrassing. I’ll admit it, I had grown to like Erik in the time he’d been with us, not to mention I had quite a few run-ins with him before I ever joined the X-Men. He always seemed so… Powerful, he always felt safe to be around. As radical as the Professor may claim he is, he always seemed… Right. You could hear the passion in his voice when he spoke of mutantkind and it made you want to side with him, to be loyal and to follow him to the ends of the Earth.

He had a powerful presence, and as I am now discovering, a powerful touch. One of the very few people who could come near me without fear of being electrocuted. My muscles had begun to twitch in the aftermath of the shock. These are the unfortunate moments where I wish I could be rid of my mutation. I could barely hold myself up and here I was in Erik’s arms.

“You should be resting” his voice was stern, but there was a hint of concern in there. I raise my gaze to meet his, feeling a bit of shame.

“I can’t just lay in bed all day, the world is still turning, there’s things to do…” I muttered.

“Precisely, the world is still turning and it will still continue to turn if you are at rest. You, on the other hand, are not a planet and you need to care for yourself”

I stare into his eyes, feeling them pierce through my soul. He always seemed to be right about everything… I chuckle under my breath as I regain some strength in my legs, straightening back up.

“I’m sure you must be tired of having to run after all of us like a babysitter” I joke as his arms come to rest on my shoulders once I’m stable on my feet.

A glint crosses his eyes, “I do wonder how Charles managed, and then I remember he’s a telepath, so it must’ve been quite easy for him” he replies with a smirk gracing his face that makes me laugh a little.

“He still struggled, you shouldn’t compare yourself to the Professor”

He begins to lead me toward the couch behind us, helping me take a seat before joining me. I still feel a hot streak of shame across my stomach, having him help me. Burdening him.

“Sorry, by the way… You’re right, I should be a little more considerate of others” I mutter.

Erik turns to look at me as I avoid making eye contact, “I don’t believe those were my words…” his hand reaches out toward my chin, gently turning my head to face him, “I only ask of you to rest and care for yourself, forget what the others may think”

I blinked up at him, “The Professor always wanted me to push past my limits, so that I can perhaps get stronger… Control my powers better”

“In a perfect world, you wouldn’t have to restrict your abilities, you could rule this planet with a wave of your hand, what you have is something to be proud of, not ashamed” he places his hand against my cheek and I find myself leaning against his warm touch, “Your mutation is a blessing, not a curse”

I scoff, “Sure doesn’t feel that way, I can’t even live among humans without shutting down an entire city’s power”

“Your powers shouldn’t be hidden, controlled, or restricted for the sake of humanity” he says the word with disdain, “but those are my beliefs, your existence is grand mein liebling”

My heart thumps against my chest loudly at his words. It feels… Intimate. How could he speak such high praise toward me?

“I see you hurt and I watch as you restrain yourself around others, as your mutation basically eats your body alive and it pains me…” his eyes gaze across my face, pausing at my lips before trailing back up to my eyes, “It pains me that you live in a world where you feel you cannot rest, where you feel you must hide the power within you”

“Erik…” I whisper, almost afraid to shatter the moment between us, “What are you… What are you saying…?” I peer into his eyes, seeing something brewing behind his gaze. Could it be possible that he’s… No, there’s no way.

“What do you believe I’m saying?” he whispers softly, leaning in toward me. I jump as a few sparks fly out from where he has his hand on my cheek. I can’t help my eyes dropping to his lips before rising back up to his eyes.

I feel the tension rise and in a desperate attempt to avoid it, I joke, “If I was delusional, I might think you’re trying to confess to me right now” I laugh a little to dispel the tension. His gaze was still just as intense so I failed, but I tried my best.

A smile graced his features, “Yes… Perhaps if you were delusional, you might see that I am actually confessing my feelings for you right now” he says it so casually I almost think he’s playing along with my joke, but as my eyes widen, so does his smile.

“Are you…?” my voice wavers a little. I feel my heart drop, realizing he’s probably joking with me. I turn away from his hand, lightly pushing his chest to put distance between us.

“Is this some sort of joke? Come on, Erik… You know that’s… It’s unrealistic” I mutter, a man like him would never love someone like me, that’s not how it works… Maybe in the movies, or in a fairytale perhaps.

“Mein liebling, perhaps I haven’t been clear enough with you” he wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me in close, closer than before, “do you prefer a visual demonstration instead? I can give you that, you only need to ask” he smiles before slowly leaning in, giving me enough time to back out if I wished, but I find myself leaning in, eager to feel his lips against mine.

As soon as our lips locked together, sealed at last, a burst of electric sparks flew out from our lips and I giggled into the kiss. I mean, how ironic is that? I felt real, literal sparks and fireworks from the kiss and it made my lips tingly. Erik smiles into the kiss before deepening it, his hand rising up toward my hair while the other trailed down my back and I found myself desperate to be closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck, clumsily climbing over to sit on his lap. We part right as I begin losing my breath and he trails a burning, tingly trail of kisses down my jaw before he stops by my ear.

With a whisper that blew across the nape of my neck, “I see more than just greatness in you, so much more…” The words are charged with intention, passion, and sincerity. I shudder as the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and I bite back a moan as he continues kissing down my neck. I take a sharp breath in as he begins sucking on a tender spot before I suddenly realize what we’re doing…

Where we’re doing it.

I turn slightly to peek at the windows, making sure the others are still thoroughly distracted with playing before I feel Erik bite my skin and a moan breaks out, “Wait! Erik… We’re… In the lounge…”

He lifts his head, and the dark look in his blue eyes makes me clench my legs in anticipation, “We’ll just have to be fast… And quiet… Can you do that?” He taunts me with a question I don’t even get the chance to answer before he lays me down on the couch, climbing over me, “I’m just helping you relax, that’s not a sin, is it?” He looks down at me with a hungry gaze and I feel my cheeks burn.

“I guess not”

“Show me what else you can do with these sparks of yours”