#genuinely it makes them so unbearable to watch i don’t get it

[andbreakmynose]

every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own

part 1

your first date with the hot single dad you may or may not work for...

(the car! alex, single dad! alex)

WARNINGS: SMUT, feelings, age gap (reader is mid 20s), p-in-v (protected), oral (f receiving)

WORD COUNT: 5k

You hadn’t been this giddy over a man since Aiden Grant called you pretty on an Instagram post when you were 12, although you also hadn’t been with anyone like Alex fucking Turner.

Barely anyone knew you even worked for Alex; he didn’t want them to for his own privacy. You understood that, he was a private person and especially so when it came to his child. You didn’t have a problem with telling acquaintances that you worked for a rich man and not saying anything else, they usually understood. It’s never been a problem until now.

When you came home after that fateful night all giggly and smiling your roommate had more than a few questions. The alcohol in your system got you dangerously close to spilling but you came up with some lie last minute, you couldn’t remember what you said in that drunken haze but apparently it was enough to get Claire off your case.

You wanted to tell her though, you wanted to tell the world and you couldn’t. It was eating you alive that you couldn’t tell anyone that you had kissed - no, fucked - Alex Turner. Not in a bragging way, in the way that you wanted someone to tell you to calm down and slap some sense into you. You wanted to be able to ask someone for advice, to know that you weren’t making some grave mistake. It was times like these you wished that you took that advertisement in the mail for three months of free therapy.

Alex, in a sort of way, became that person. He was too busy to really talk the rest of the week, but his gentle gestures like kissing you before you left gave you enough reassurance to make it through the night without freaking out.

He felt the same way, there was this underlying fear in his bones that he really had done something terrible. It’s not that he thought he was taking advantage of you, no you’re a grown adult. But you’re the grown adult he has employed, he can’t lose that. If he worked for a company this would’ve been an HR violation. That was a bad feeling.

Waiting for Friday would be unbearable if you weren’t so damn busy. Toddlers don’t have time to accommodate for a complicated love life and it seemed that neither did Alex’s schedule. He wanted you to know that he cared and he was genuinely looking forward to having an actual date with you, but it seemed that every time he tried to start a conversation his daughter would start crying or his phone would start ringing.

It isn't until Wednesday that he actually gets you alone. He has enough time to slip home and grab lunch, and it's late enough that Ayla is already sound asleep for her nap. When he sees you sitting alone on the sofa, his heart swells. There's already something domestic about the scene: you, in his house, comfortable on his furniture. No signs of work, just relaxation—and he likes that.

“Hey. Had a few minutes to sneak out.” He sneaks into the living room, startling you slightly before you smile warmly. You can’t be upset with him, not even for a second—his presence is just too warm.

“There’s some leftover mac and cheese on the stovetop if you want it. Not exactly fine dining, but it was pretty good.” Your words make him laugh, and that feels good. He has a nice laugh, and you feel a sense of pride knowing you made it happen.

“I’ll pack some and take it back to the studio. Don’t really have much time,” he says, glancing down at his watch—probably more expensive than your car. “But I did want to talk. Y’know, about Friday.”

You nod and sit up properly, straightening your back so you don’t look lazy. He notices but doesn’t comment; it’s cute to him that you’re still trying to impress him when he already finds you so special.

“So I’ve been thinking... and talking...” He leans against the doorway, smiling. “I made a reservation at that restaurant for 6:30, and I’ve already talked to Matt. He’s more than happy to watch Ayla for the night. You know how excited she’ll be to see them.” He beams at his own productivity, clearly pleased with how he’s going above and beyond for you.

The mention of Matt confuses you. You’ve been nervous about even mentioning the situation to your sister, and yet Alex already told Matt? It makes sense, you guess—Matt understands celebrity life and knows how to keep secrets. He seems decent enough from the few times you’ve met him, but the idea still makes you feel something strange.

“Matt knows about... us?” you ask, hesitating slightly. You don’t want to seem upset—you’re not upset—but you do want clarification.

Alex picks up on your nerves instantly. It’s obvious in the way your fingers dig into your knee and your teeth worry at your lip. He shakes his head, chuckling. “Don’t worry about that. I told him an old friend is coming to town for drinks and that you weren’t available anyway.”

Damn Alex and his talent for easing your nerves. You exhale the deepest breath you’ve taken in a while. It’s all good. “Ah, okay. I was just wondering if you were telling the whole world about us,” you joke, knowing he isn’t. You needed to say something to lighten the mood, more for yourself than for him.

He laughs at your joke, and he doesn’t even need to say no—you already know he wouldn’t want to jinx things yet. He’s about to speak again when his watch buzzes, prompting a disappointed sigh. He doesn’t want to leave, he’d rather spend all day staring into your wide, pretty eyes.

“I’m excited for tomorrow, yeah? We’ll drop her off at 6:00 and then head out. I really am excited. You don’t even know.” He sounds slightly nervous, and it’s cute to see that you can make him feel that way. You don’t know what you did to deserve it.

"I’m excited too.” Your voice is warm, matching the smile on your face. You’re not entirely sure what to say, but you know just how excited you are to have something with him. His expression softens as he lifts himself from the doorframe.

“I’ll see you later, darling. Take care.” And with that, he’s gone, but you can’t blame him—you know how busy he always is. The word "darling" bounces around in your head, a reminder that this isn’t a dream. He really does like you.

Thursday night is spent stressing over what to wear. You know Alex will show up in his usual suit—one of his quirks that drives you wild—but you don’t want to overdo it. It’s just dinner, but your work clothes won’t cut it. You certainly can’t show up in sweats to a date with Alex Turner.

You settle on a dress you haven’t worn since your ex-classmates wedding to her now ex-husband. It’s not the nicest, but it will do. You have a sneaking suspicion that Alex would like you in a trash bag anyway. You roll the dress up and tuck it in your bag—no way you’re wearing it to work where it’d end up covered in marker and spit.

Friday’s anxiety convinces you that you’re doing your job horribly. You must have forgotten something or messed up because your mind is all Alex, Alex, Alex, like he’s a parasite who’s crawled into your brain.

Knowing he’ll be home around 5:30, you start getting ready at exactly 5:15. You make sure to look presentable, curling your hair and applying a layer of concealer. He’s seen you at your worst—covered in child vomit—but you still want him to see you at your best.

Right on time, he unlocks the front door, and Ayla immediately bounds over to him. He laughs, picking her up and setting her on his hip before his eyes sweep over you. You look good—you always look good—but this time, it’s something else.

He clears his throat, giving a small smile. “You look that good to me?” You don’t want to blush, but you’re sure your face is bright red. Of course, you dressed up for him.

“Nah. I dressed up to get spit on,” you joke, stepping forward and ruffling Ayla’s hair just like Alex did. He smiles at the closeness, free from the stresses of the day and surrounded by the people he cares about the most. It’s a good feeling.

He chuckles at your words, raising his eyebrows and making a quizzical face at his daughter as if she’s hiding something. She just babbles, reaching out to pull his sunglasses off and throw them on the floor. Alex shakes his head, pretending to care. You laugh, silently thanking her for letting you see Alex’s eyes again. He really does have the nicest eyes.

“Those were my nice pair, you rascal.” You’ve never heard him upset and this is no exception, even when he’s pretending to be upset he still has so much love in his voice. “Y’know I was gonna surprise ya by taking you to Uncle Matt’s for the night but it seems like you’re being a little punk tonight.” The girl immediately cries out and shakes her head, protesting just the thought of not going to Matt’s.

“Aw alright, you’re too darn cute to deny. Plus I have to do things anyways tonight.” This makes Ayla clap excitedly and make small noises, Alex giving her a smile before looking up with a wink. You secretly knew that the plans he had tonight consisted of you, and you wink right back at him. “You pack her night bag?” He asks you, it was the one thing he asked in the morning so of course you did it. You were always 10 steps ahead and he loved that.

“Mhm!” You nod and gesture to the pony-printed bag behind you. It was a gift you had gotten her for Valentine’s day earlier this year. Alex nods and walks over, daughter still in hand, to grab the bag and swing it over his shoulder. He’s signaling that it’s time to go.

You follow after him silently into his black sports car, taking Ayla from him to help buckle her into her carseat. You hop in the passenger's side and he sets the radio to the kid’s channel. Alex looks back at his daughter with a wide grin, even if he doesn’t particularly tolerate these songs he knows that it makes her happy. He starts to sing along to some song about waffles, god it’s awful but somehow his crooning makes it sound like a 1950s love song. You smile at the scene while Alex pulls out of the driveway.

That’s how the whole drive goes, it’s only about 15 minutes but all 15 of them are spent with Alex singing his heart out just to please his kid. “Is this on the new album?” You remark with a teasing grin at one song about silly snakes, Alex just laughs and reaches out to gently swat your arm.

That moment confirmed to you that your relationship with Alex had changed, not a single other person you worked with would have touched you. And Alex wasn’t just touching you sexually but he was touching you in a warm, familial way. For a second it felt just like you were old lovers and your kid, not what you really were.

It’s an easy handoff to Matt, Ayla is excited to see everyone and all you really have to do is hand off the night bag, Alex trusts them enough that he doesn’t even consider worrying for the night. When he’s sure the door is shut he takes your hand in his, leading you back to the car. You’ve come to love his hands; they were gentle and warm, yet also calloused from years of experience. They were the most Alex Turner hands you could possibly think of.

He starts the car again, making sure to shift the stereo to his personal mix of 2000s garage rock and 1960s french jazz. It was such an eclectic combination but it told you everything you needed to know about him, you felt warm as he hummed along to the words you didn’t really understand.

The restaurant was about a 30 minute drive, it was mostly silent besides the few times Alex pointed out things in the city. He showed you which venues he had played and which stores he had shopped in, he made sure to recommend the sweaters at some luxury store that you couldn’t pronounce the name of. When you told him you loved his sweaters he made a mental note to get one for you for the holidays, or to lend you one of his own.

Like he said, the restaurant is formal but cozy. It reminds you of something from Lady and the Tramp, or maybe Ayla had just made you watch that movie on repeat in the past week. He hands the keys off to the valet worker and grabs at your hand again, leading you inside.

“Turner, party of 2,” he says to the hostess with a smooth voice, looking over at you to remind you that you’re his party, his date. The hostess grabs two menus and leads you to a secluded booth in the corner. There’s a candle and roses on the table, which you didn’t notice at any others. Maybe he had done that special just for you.

He orders the two of you a glass of wine and a basket of bread, pointing out his favorite items on the menu. You decide on some fancy seafood pasta, Alex mumbling that it was a good choice.

This is your first time ever alone with Alex for a prolonged period, you’re not quite sure what to expect. He starts the conversation off easily, asking about your day and telling you about his. The endless flow of drinks and food (everytime you ask to order something he says yes - reassuring you that he couldn't care less about the price) makes it all really easy. There’s just chemistry between you and Alex.

He tells you about touring and you tell him about your childhood dog, he tells you what it’s like to be famous and you tell him about your experience in college. There’s such a difference in lifestyles but it doesn’t seem to matter at this moment, he’s completely enthralled by your life. It almost feels like you’re sharing similar experiences, he understands everything you say and is able to respond in such a damn charming way.

The food is unreasonably good, like maybe in the top five you’ve ever had. The flavors are rich and you wonder for a second how you’ll go back to fast food and microwaved dinners after this. At some point Alex decides he wants a bite from your plate so he puts his fork in it, there’s an awkward clash of arms that has you both giggling.

“You want some of mine? It’s only fair,” he asks you, a small amount of pasta sauce stuck under his bottom lip. You want to reach out and fix it but you’re too preoccupied with his words. You give a nod and he picks up his fork, grabbing a piece of chicken and bringing it to your lips. You were totally fine with getting your own bite but he had different plans, and the scene made you feel more like you were in Lady and the Tramp.

His food was also too damn good and you let out a satisfied groan, him grinning and reaching out to clean your lip. You figure since he did it you can do it too, so you take your thumb and gently wipe down his lip. It’s a quiet sort of encounter but it’s full of so much tension and unspoken words, god why was pasta sauce turning you on?

He finally removes his hand from your face and wraps his arm around you, pulling you to his side. You can tell at that moment that you’ve crossed a bridge and probably won’t be able to keep your hands off each other anymore, it’s good that there isn’t that much food left.

He keeps his arm tight against you as you eat, like he’s afraid you’ll run on him. The food doesn’t take too long to finish, at least on your behalf. It’s so good that you can’t stop filling your mouth. And when you’re done and Alex has a bit left it’s a treat that you get to watch him eat for a second, his mouth alternates between telling stories and chewing, his perfect lips always moving.

The waiter asks if you want dessert but you two were both too full, and Alex gives you a look that says he has dessert prepared for later. It’s a silent promise that reminds you of what happened last time we were together and has your heart beating faster in anticipation.

He pays the bill (you don’t even bother to look at how many figures are on there) and then takes you back to his car. His hand never leaves your back, sometimes drifting down to the curves of your ass. The valet man hands him his keys back, he tips heavily, and you’re heading back to his place. Nervous anticipation fills both of your throats.

“That was maybe the best food I’ve ever had.” You tell him as you take a seat in his car, buckling your seatbelt and smiling at him.

He nods and hums, following your actions and expression, “Glad you think so. I’m pretty fond of it myself.” He starts the car and his music begins to play again, you had heard this song before. Maybe because of him. “I really like that dress on you sweetheart, so damn gorgeous.” He breaks the silence after a minute, voice husky and smirk on his face. He did mean the sexual connotations behind his words but he also just really liked the dress, you were a gorgeous girl and seeing you dolled up for him was lovely.

“Aw thanks.” You reply, feeling your face heat up a bit. You still weren’t quite used to his compliments, he shouldn’t be saying you looked gorgeous when he looked like a damn god. He drives in silence for a second, taking occasional glances over at you with that smirk on his face.

“I have a confession to make...” he gives you a devilish grin, a small laugh trying not to escape him, “I get really touchy feely when I’m a bit drunk. But emphasis on the touchy part.” And then he laughs, he really can’t hold it in and neither can you. He has you laughing while simultaneously attempting to not pay attention to the burn between your thighs.

He smiles back at you, he loves your laugh, and then turns the stereo up a bit. He wants to get you back home and fast, this week of waiting for you has just driven him crazy. You’re able to get comfortable and let the music distract your busy mind, your eyes stay peeled to the window so you don’t notice how his hand is flexing against the steering wheel.

He leads you to the kitchen when you get home, the same place this all began. He opens the wine cabinet and starts to look, but you interrupt, “I shouldn’t drink anymore, I don’t want to be hungover at work tomorrow.” He nods and lets out a small sigh, that’s right. You were his daughter’s damn babysitter, not a girl he brought home from the bar. He has to repeat this thought as your cleavage is right in his face. “Yeah, that’s fine...”

Another second of silence fills the room, you know what he’s thinking about but is too shy to say. It’s a bit endearing how he doesn’t want to come across as too forward. “Alex... if you want to fuck me you can just say it. I can see you staring down my tits.”

He’s halfway through a drink of wine when you say this and he ends up coughing it up, he didn’t expect you to say anything. Good, maybe he wasn’t the only one being so sexually desperate here. “Right... well I think I’d like that.” He regrets saying that instantly, it sounds so stupid. He wants to fuck you with ever fiber of his being and he’s saying he “thinks” he’d like that. God he feels like an idiot.

He was still shy, and to be honest so were you. It had been a while and the first times with anyone were always scary. But you still nodded at his words and tilted your head towards his bedroom, if there was anytime nerves would be the lowest it would be now when you were both a bit tipsy.

Alex swallows and takes the lead, grabbing your hand and leading you to his bedroom. You had been there before to grab things for the kid before but this felt different, you weren’t there for your job. You were in his room and you were about to have sex with him.

Before you can finish looking around he grabs you by the waist and captures your lips in a searing kiss, too much pent up desire to wait for any longer. You’re caught off guard but still end up moaning into the kiss, Alex can only think about how he wants to hear more of those moans. Something must’ve taken hold of him because he gets the confidence to push you towards the bed, starting to work at the zipper with his long fingers.

He gets the zipper all the way down and you can barely register it before your dress is on the floor, leaving you in your underwear set. It wasn’t really the nicest but it still had Alex’s breath hitching. “Fucking gorgeous body. You know I’d return the favor from last time but I think if I’m not inside you soon I might perish and die.”Always one for the dramatics.

You give a small giggle at his words, reaching your hand out to gently palm his prominent bulge through his trousers, he hisses at just the littlest bit of contact. There’s a tangle of limbs as you try to get his clothes off and he tries to get your lingerie off, it’s awkward and messy and you almost feel like a high schooler again. Everything about Alex makes you feel like a high schooler again.

After you’re both completely undressed he joins you on the bed, pushing you back and settling on his knees. He starts to gently part your legs to look at your soaked cunt, running his middle and pointer fingers through the folds to collect your wetness. “Your cunt is pretty too, you know that? I think I’ve changed my mind, I need to taste you.”

Before you can even respond (which you probably wouldn’t have been able to respond with words anyways) his lips are attached to your sex. You let out a loud whine and attach your hand into his hair, pushing him deeper. He brings his mouth up slightly higher and his nose budges at your clit, that perfect fucking nose. It’s only been a minute and he already has you shaking and letting out endless streams of whines. He’s reveling in your taste, he thinks he could survive purely on the taste of your juices.

He develops a rhythm of licking at you, sucking at your clit, and peppering kisses along the sensitive folds. It’s intoxicating and you’re sure the words you’re saying don’t make sense, the only ones you can recognize coming out of your mouth are “Alex” and “Fuck.” He’s obsessed with your cunt but at the same time he’s hard in a way that’s making him uncomfortable, so he pulls his lips away much to your whining protest.

“Shh.. shh... sorry sweetheart. I just need to fuck you now,” he says in a voice smoother than butter. As he shifts to having his hips in between your legs your eyes meet the throbbing member in front of you. The head is red and you can see the pulsing. Yeah, it makes sense he needed to fuck you. He takes his time to line his head up with your folds, he needs that first thrust to be perfect as silly as it sounded.

After he decides on his placement he places his hands on your shoulders and starts to push himself in. It’s a stretch for you but in the best way, you hadn’t been filled by a cock in so long and now the most beautiful one was opening you up. Your tight caverns had Alex matching your groans, leaning down so he can kiss you again.

“So. Fucking. Perfect. And all mine.” He says in between kisses, starting to move his hips at a pace that has you both satisfied and begging for more. You’re his, you’re completely his. If there was any question about it before. You didn’t care that he was technically your employer anymore, at this second he was your lover and maybe the best lover you had ever had.

“Yes Alex, I’m yours. All yours,” you moan out, every thrust causing new goosebumps to arise on your arms. “Now fuck me harder, please.” You add on, causing him to laugh.

“Your wish is my command, sweetheart,” he says before picking up the pace. He starts to slam into you at a brutal pace, still littering your neck with kisses. If that wasn’t enough he starts to pinch and roll your nipples in his fingers, all the sensations making your eyes roll back. You knew your orgasm was soon, and Alex knew it too. You both wanted this too much to hold on for much longer.

Your moans start to become one constant stream of noises and his grunts start to become more guttural, the coil in your lower stomach was starting to build up and you just needed to push towards that release a bit more. He took note of this and brought his thumb from your nipple to your clit, circling it quickly like if he didn’t make you cum, he’d be executed. His own release was nearing and he could feel himself start to twitch inside of you.

“Can I cum fuck - inside?” He groans out, always the gentleman. He’s really damn turned on by the idea of cumming inside before but he’s seen what that can do before and doesn’t exactly want to deal with that again. You nod your head, you’re glad he asked but you’ve been on birth control since you were 15 for period cramps.

“On the pill!” You scream out. And it’s so embarrassing but that’s the last thing you’re able to say before the coil inside of you snaps and you’re cumming all over his cock, your walls squeezing him deliciously. He’s decided that making you cum is his new favorite thing in the world, the noises you make and the way your body is reacting drives him to his own release. With a final thrust and groan he’s leaning forward against you and emptying inside of you.

He cums a lot; you knew that from sucking him off, but now it was inside of you. And even when he pulled out, despite missing how he felt, you still felt pretty full. You were full of his remains; he likes that just as much as you. He spends a second to smile at your spent cunt leaking him before he snaps out of it.

"I'll, uh, I’ll get a towel, yeah?” He says, still catching his breath, before walking off to grab what he said. You miss him for the two minutes he’s gone, and when he returns, you feel like he’s just gotten back from war. He gently cleans your sex off and then puts the glass of water aside for you on the nightstand.

Collapsing onto the bed next to you, he pulls you into his side, placing a kiss on your temple. “That was perfect; I hope you let me do it again.” Of course you’d let him do it again; you’d let him fuck you right now if you weren’t kind of tired.

“You can fuck me whenever we both have the time; that’s my promise to you. And maybe we’ll go to that restaurant again? It was good!” He chuckles and nods, playfully ruffling your hair and placing another kiss on your head.

“I’ll take you wherever you want; you're mine now, and I mean it.” He pulls you against your side, and you know the truth to his words—you were entangled with him, whatever the implications were. You were his. And now you were about to sleep in his bed.

He wakes up before you; he knows he has to go pick up the kid from Matt's, and it’d be odd if you went too. He slips on a shirt and jeans for the day, more casual than he was used to, and lets his eyes roam over your sleeping form. Your nakedness was a reminder of everything you did that night, but your eyes closed, and the smile on your face was a reminder of the deeper meaning to it all. He couldn’t wait to explore that more.

He thought about you the entire drive to Matt's—not just how you felt under him but how you made him happy. He could’ve been embarrassed by how whipped he was this quick, but it was a long time coming. His mind drifts back to how pretty you were last New Year's when he had you take Ayla to the “family” party.

When he gets to Matt's, Ayla is beyond excited to see him, running up and pulling his leg into a hug. He hugs her back for a second and then gestures for her to walk to the car; he’s about to follow, but Matt stops him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Is there a reason you were holding hands with your babysitter last night, Alex?”

A/N: kinda hate this but i needed to get it out. title from jane eyre again <3 love dad alex

[purble-gaymer]

i don’t know how to describe this problem into a google search without sounding crazy but i have this issue with my pre lab videos for chem. they’re partially screen recorded slideshow and partially videos of someone doing a demonstration. every single video has had an issue where it buffers CONSTANTLY during the demonstration parts but ONLY during those. like to the point where i’m waiting so long i forget what they’re saying. and it’s not like the video isn’t loaded in! it’ll be loaded like a minute ahead and still buffer every two seconds! i ONLY have this problem with these videos and nothing else. it’s not the video quality, it’s not my internet connection, it’s not the speed, WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 8

content warning: fluff, a little bit of hurt/comfort, some mentions of food, 18+ so MDNI, thigh riding 😙, thigh fucking 🤪, public indecency??? exhibitionism???, katoptronophilia aka mirror sexy time (thanks for the word jelly 🪼), just overall a really good time

word count: 4.4k, not proofread (we're only gearing up to what I assume will be another giant chapter 😷)

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who does some sets of push-ups, sit-ups, and leg raises in place of the gym. You watch him while you wait for room service, encouraging him from the side. Your presence was especially needed during the sit-ups when you sit at his feet, holding them down and giving him kisses when sits up.

GymRat!Miguel who sings loudly in the shower after his workout. You have to answer the door with an apology as the server laughs at Miguel belting out Britany Spears.

GymRat!Miguel who finally decides to respond to his texts. He’s had enough time to cool off and your presence was like a calm breeze, kissing away at his skin.

He discards his empty plate, placing it back on the cart. You’re still chewing away at some fluffy pancakes, enjoying the views of the high-rise hotel as the default channel played soft jazz.

GymRat!Miguel who lays in your lap while you eat some fruit. He has his phone in his hands ready to type, but he opens his mouth, silently begging for you to feed him grapes and pineapple chunks.

He hums to himself happily when you comply, combing a hand through his hair. He felt so peaceful like this. Serene.

GymRat!Miguel who sighs as he opens the message app. Here we go.

Abuela 💕:

“Abuela I’ll call you tonight”

“And there will be no babies. Not now”

“There better not be!”

Pa:

“Gracias pa”

“I’m glad you were able to meet her”

“She means a lot to me”

“I can tell”

“Mijo you pack a big punch!”

“Uno más!!!”

“You got that from me 👍🏽”

“Sure did pa 😭”

Gabri 🤡🤏🏽:

“You’re such an instigator”

“It’s not instigating. It’s reporting 😌”

“‘It’s reporting ☝🏽🥸’”

“Shaddap”

“You think I’m letting a member of the robotics team bully me?”

“You have perfect pitch and play the saxophone”

“You’re not winning this battle”

“Aren’t you supposed to be entertaining my girl? 🤨”

“Direct this clown act to her”

“Not sure how she puts up with it but I’ll free her soon”

“Stfu”

“A real man would be doing OTHER things but I digress”

“Did you really have to send a pic”

“You hate me”

“It’s clear to me now”

“Anyway what’s this about Tyler punching things”

“OHHHHH”

“He got him good”

“Square in the face”

“A bloody mouth to match his nose”

“TWINEM”

“Good”

"Pa said he granted me the ability to punch"

“He can dream on about that”

“Because where tf is my strength 😒”

"He punched Tyler before"

"Your time will be soon"

"😕"

"Also Ik about Nancy cheating already"

"Tyler told me in high school"

"I didn't want to be the one to tell Kron"

"Ur better than me"

"I would have told him that after that punch"

"YOUR MOM IS A HOMEWRECKER!"

"That's not what that means but ok"

Dana:

“Does your bf know you’re lusting after others?”

“Not if you don’t tell 😙”

“….I don’t think I want to give you her number”

“You’re perfect for Gabri”

“You’re both unbearable”

“What’s unbearable is I’m not talking to your gf rn”

“It’s too many O’Haras”

“Too much testosterone”

“SAVE ME MIG’S GF”

“MIG’S GF SAVE ME!!!”

Dad….Tyler:

“It’s ok. For what it’s worth, I can tell that you had good intentions.”

“Gabri told me what happened”

“I apologize for acting out of order and punching your son, but I couldn’t let him disrespect my girlfriend and my mom. No matter how difficult she may be, I’m the one who should tell her about it. Not him.”

"I completely understand that. You did what you thought was right, and that's far more admirable than what Kron did."

"In another reality, you and Kron could get along. For now, I will aim for cordial. I will make sure that he apologizes to you, your girlfriend, and Conchata."

"I don't want an apology if it's not genuine."

"Let's move on from that. You said you wanted to make it up to me? I saw that you added more dates to the hotel. Thank you for that, you didn't have to."

"Yes! If you are willing, I would love for you and your girlfriend to meet with me. I actually arranged something for you, Gabriel, and your girlfriends. I want to hear your input before I finalize the details."

"Sure thing. Is this afternoon ok?"

"That's perfect. I'll see you then."

Ma:

Read: 11:10 AM ✓✓

“Ugh,” Miguel groans, shutting his phone off and closing his eyes.

You stop rubbing his hair and look down, “What’s wrong?”

Miguel grunts as he moves your hand to continue, “My mom wants me to come home. Not sure if I want to do that right now. Not unless I know she’s ready to be accountable for once, which I highly doubt.”

You hum in understanding, “She’s still your mom, though. You’ll have to see her eventually.”

“My mom or not, she had no right to talk to you the way she did,” Miguel said reaching his hand up to your face. “It was cruel and…strange coming towards you. She doesn’t know you. Not yet, anyway.”

It’s not like she was trying to know you, either. Miguel seemed to understand this in your silence.

“I have to go grab some clothes so she might just get her wish,” Miguel says, turning his head towards your stomach.

You look down at him, “You don’t have to. Today is my last day here.”

“Well, lucky for us, Tyler extended the stay for a few more days,” he grinned. He started to move your shirt to fondle your skin.

Your stomach twitched as his breath brushed your skin. He started to kiss along your front, head disappearing under your sweater. He hummed as he started to tug at your underwear with his teeth.

“Hey,” you say, watching his head moving around through the material. “Stop that and finish talking.”

You pulled your sweater up to reveal him, his teeth still holding the band of your panties and eyes like a cat that got caught.

He let the band go close to your stomach so it wouldn’t snap, “This visual is making me forget everything.” His eyes are heavy and wandering.

You look to where he’s looking to see that you’re essentially flashing him.

You drop your shirt in embarrassment, letting out a sound of panic.

“No, no, baby let me see.”

“No, you’re at such a weird angle.”

“All art must be viewed up close and personal.”

Miguel sat up from your lap. He watched as you huffed and pinched the neckline of your sweater, moving it for air.

"You're so confident from afar, but when I'm near you like this, you get so shy. Even in public, you can be so bold. It's just you and me here."

"It's just," you watch Miguel as he crowds your space. His mouth goes behind your ear to press his lips into your skin. "I don't know. It feels like...more when it's just us. More real."

"Does it not feel real when we're in public?"

Miguel sits back, eyes wondering to yours. There's a pinch in his eyebrows, so faint you almost miss it.

"It does! That's not what I mean."

"Then, what is it? Tell me. Talk to me."

"I want to do more with you."

"But?" Miguel holds your hands in his, stopping you from picking at the loose threads of the sweater. He rubs them with his thumbs, itching to pull you closer.

"But, when you look at me like that, I feel like I could pass out. I get overwhelmed and nervous. I don't want to say or do anything stupid. It gets harder to control myself. I feel crazy."

Oh.

Oh.

"Then there are moments when my brain fools me into thinking that you don't like me in the way that I like you. Moments when that girl from not so long ago comes back, ashamed of herself and her body. A small part of me that thinks you could date anyone else and you're settling."

Miguel takes a moment to process your words.

He takes a breath, then opens his mouth.

"You really don't understand how much you affect me, do you?"

Miguel pulled you in his lap, fed up with this charade.

You grip his shoulders, steadying your balance with how fast he grabbed you.

"Miguel-"

"I don't know everything that your last boyfriend did to you and I don't know everything that you've experienced because of your body. Baby, I don't even know what you've seen all this time to make you think you're not worthy of love and respect, but I'm here to squash it."

"I meant it when I said that I love you. I'll learn it in a hundred languages just to remind you. I'll even tattoo it on my forehead for you to be reminded of it every single time you see me."

"I don't think you need to go that far," you say, eyes warm.

"No, I think I should. Anything for you to understand me. Anything for you to see you like how I see you."

"Letting out my deepest darkest secrets here, but do you know what I did when we first met?"

You shake your head, curious.

"I had a dream about you that was so good, I fell out of my bed. Peter never lets me live it down."

"A sweet dream?"

"Now, you and I both know it was more than that. Two cold showers should answer your questions."

You hide your face in his neck, heartbeat drumming through you, "Did you really?"

"Hand to heart. I understand your feelings. I acknowledge them too, but I need you to understand mine as well. Trust me when I say that you are unbelievably sexy. I love you and your body. My eyes caught your appearance before I came to know your personality. Anybody would be lucky to have you, but I'm the luckiest because you chose me."

Miguel hugged you close and kissed your head.

"Now let's rewind. You said you feel crazy when you're close to me?"

You groan in his neck.

"Uncontrollable? Heated?"

"Miggy, stop."

"My girlfriend is head over heels for me," Miguel hummed as he rubbed his hands down your naked legs. "She wants to ruin me."

"No, I don't."

"She's still wearing my clothes with nothing underneath but her panties and is leaning all over me. Her thighs are around my waist and she just told me that she wants me."

"You put me here," you lean up and stare at him. Your cheeks were hot and your eyes were dewey.

"She's looking at me like she's upset, but now I know that her heart is going crazy. I want to kiss her."

"Then do it," you whisper.

The kiss is sweet, the taste of fruit and syrup still on your lips. You finally relax in his arms, body melted against his. His hands slip under your sweater, dancing over your back. Your skin is soft and warm, a blanket over Miguel's figure.

The time where you two connect extends deeper and longer. You let your hands venture further than the nape of his neck, roaming until you brush across his chest. Miguel's breath hitched as your nails raked his nipple, chest jumping at the impact.

You break for a second, wanting to get air, but Miguel leans back in, desperate. He's whining, groping your body all over. His noises go straight to your core, twitching above him. He matches your pace, dragging your hips across his, reveling in how fast your body was reacting to him.

When he leans back, there's a string of saliva connecting you two. He's breathing hard as he watches you.

"Can I take this off? Please," Miguel grips the bottom of your sweater, eyes pleading.

You bite your lip and slide the sweater over your head, dropping it to the bed. You bring your hands over the top of your chest, arms framing your breasts.

You can't look Miguel in the eyes, too shy, "Is this fine?"

Miguel's eyes almost turn as he watches you, so shy but so seductive. He reaches out to cup your breasts in his hands, groaning when they plush through his fingers.

"You're so," Miguel rubs his thumbs across your nipples, enjoying you twitching and gasping in his hold. "Fuck."

His gaze burned into you, hungry as you lapped his tongue around your nipples. You let out a whimper when you feel him pull your skin in, mouth hot. It doesn't beat his pleased hum, voice like a man finally getting relief.

He massages your vacant breast, movements getting harsher. His grip is like a vice making it harder for you to second-guess yourself.

You hiss and rake your hands through his hair, "B-baby, be careful."

"Lo siento, mi amor," Miguel says, kissing across your areolas. "'M sorry."

You find your breath, fighting to steady your voice, "You're on me like we didn't just do something earlier."

Miguel paused and placed his cheek on your chest, "Baby, I'm a virgin and a man, not a prude. With practice, I could go all day."

The thought of that has you tightening your legs around him, hips stuttering. Miguel shifts to pull you over his left thigh.

"Does that excite you, baby?" Miguel smirks.

You close your eyes and nod, hips rolling over his thigh, keening high as he hikes his thigh closer to your sex and grips your waist. His muscles feel so good against you, the sounds getting wetter and wetter with each swipe.

"God, you're so pretty like this," Miguel sighs. "My gorgeous girl."

Your movements are becoming more frantic, Migiuel's voice in your ears spurring you on. He was sucking into your neck, growling as you scratched against his shoulder blades.

"That's right, baby. Keep going. Use me to get off," Miguel helped your hips keep a steady pace, pulling at your briefs to a makeshift thong. The tightness of your underwear combined with his thigh and his voice sends you into overdrive.

"Miguel!" you sob, hands gripping his hair. Your body trembles as you squeeze your thighs around him, cunt pulsating around nothing but your underwear, release leaking onto his leg.

Miguel cooed as you dropped your weight against him, body limp and hips fluttering with aftershocks. You panted as you kept your head on his shoulder, willing yourself to calm down.

"Are you ok?" Miguel asks, kissing your temple, your ear, your cheek. He feels you nod into his skin, blissed out.

"I like how you called me the needy one and you're the one who came three times today," Miguel mumbled, laughing as you swatted at his pec.

"I already confessed what you do to me. This shouldn't be shocking."

"Didn't say that. 'M just happy you feel more comfortable around me. It's what I want." One last kiss to your face seals his joy.

You lift up on shaky knees, hands holding onto Miguel for dear life. Your thighs were still shaking and your underwear was ruined. Miguel's cock twitched at the essence that seeped onto his leg, watching as sticky lines dragged from his skin to yours.

He grabbed you by the waist with one hand and wiped at your slick with another.

He's about to swipe at it with his tongue until you stop him.

"Miguel! Don't do that," you say, flustered.

"What? I'm just enjoying the fruits of my labor," he pouts as you grab some napkins and clean off his hands and thigh.

"So close to eating you, yet so far," he sighs miserably. "One day."

You ignore him and look down at his erection, taking a knuckle and lining the side. It was your first time really paying attention to him down there, now that you weren't distracted by his advances.

"What about you?"

He twitched as you walked along his clothed shaft, pre-come leaking through the fabric.

"As much as I want you to continue, we have to get ready for today," Miguel jerks as you continue your ministrations with a pout on your face. "And, I need condoms if you want to take this any further."

"Not even a blowjob?" you peer at him with your deer eyes again.

Miguel took a deep breath, "I was right. You are trying to ruin me."

GymRat!Miguel who lets you know that Tyler wants to meet you both after you both have changed clothes for the day. Something about a surprise.

"I love surprises!" you say turning to Miguel with a smile on your face. "As long as it's nothing like last night. I think it'll be ok."

Miguel matches your smile and presses his lips to yours.

GymRat!Miguel who stops at his home briefly, trying to get in and get out. He manages to fill up his travel bag, drop off his laundry, and give Gabriel a heart attack all before his mom notices he's there.

"Where are you going?" Gabriel asks with his hand over his heart, headphones lopsided around his neck.

"None of your business, nosy."

"Uh, it kind of is my business. You think you're grown when you're really not."

Miguel rolls his eyes. He didn't really want to tell Gabriel, but sometimes he couldn't say no to him.

"We're going out to see Tyler. He has a surprise for us. He also said he arranged something for us including you and Dana."

"Oh shit! Ok. And if mom asks where you are?"

"Tell her I'll come by tomorrow. I'm spending the next few days with my girlfriend."

"Alrighty," Gabriel sing-songs, placing his headphones back on his head. "You kids be safe. Don't scare my girl away."

Miguel smacks Gabriel across the head and runs out the door before he can catch up.

GymRat!Miguel who just laughs at your face while you frantically unlock the car to let him in.

"Baby, what's wrong?" you ask, voice in a panic.

"A string bean is trying to attack me," he responds, giggling as Gabriel runs out of the house.

"I'm getting you back for that you oaf!" Gabriel yells as Miguel backs out of the driveway. He stops his anger to wave at you, which you return with a sweet smile.

"Baby, you're encouraging him."

GymRat!Miguel who guides you through the doors of a cafe that Tyler recommended. He sticks out like a sore thumb with his stark white hair and light clothing. The only semblance of color on him was his silver jewelry.

He sat there, typing away at his phone, oblivious to the people around him who found familiarity in his form.

"Dad," Miguel said, the word funny on his tongue. He tried to make an effort to refer to him as his father in public, something Tyler appreciated greatly.

"Son!" he got up and engulfed him in a hug, giving you a softer version afterward. "It's good to see you both."

"It's lovely to see you again as well, Mr. Stone," you say, giving Miguel a smile when he pulls your chair out for you. "Thank you so much for thinking of us after all that's happened. Thank you for paying for my stay as well, the hotel is very lovely."

"Anything for Miguel's loved ones," he smiles in a way that has a hint of Miguel. You feel better going into the rest of this meal.

GymRat!Miguel who almost chokes on his coffee before Tyler can finish his sentence.

"A yacht?!"

"Is it too much? I can do something else to your liking," Tyler frets, wiping his hands on his slacks. "I'm not sure what all kids your age like nowadays."

"I've never been on a yacht. so I don't even know how to react," Miguel responds.

The two of them are sporting the same deer-in-headlights look.

"I'm sure it would be a great experience for all of us. If everyone doesn't mind, I'm sure we can get together and have a great time," you say, helping the two of them out. "Something nice to start the summer off."

"That's great! I will have everything ready by the beginning of next month then," Tyler says, mood lifting immediately. He was a lot like a golden retriever. "With that in order, I'd like to grant you this."

He takes his wallet out, reaching in to grab a card.

As he slides it across the table, your eyes grow big.

It's a black card with T. Stone pressed across the bottom.

"What's this for?" Miguel asks, staring at the card with building curiosity.

"You all need clothes for the trip, don't you?" Tyler asks. "And I'm sure you need more clothes to wear this week. Please take this, I don't mind. I trust you not to go overboard. I'll let you know when to give it back."

Miguel took the card in his hands, the weight of it heavier than any of his own.

"I guess it's time for a shopping spree," Miguel said, a smile growing on his face.

GymRat!Miguel who drives you straight to the mall. The windows are down as you both laugh and sing to the song on the radio. Miguel wishes he could record this moment, but for now, he dials it back to replay in his memory.

GymRat!Miguel who is happy to carry your bags and encourages you to buy more. Whenever you start to feel like you've gone overboard, he just whispers "black card" in your ear like a devil on your shoulder.

GymRat!Miguel who convinces you to walk around the name-brand stores. He did have Tyler's card, but he was also thoroughly watching what you gravitated towards. He locked away so many gift ideas for later.

GymRat!Miguel who joins you in the mirror of a shades shop. The both of you take pictures with coordinating glasses and you giggle as Miguel makes silly faces in some of them.

GymRat!Miguel who becomes your doll as you pick out outfits for him. He's smiling down at you as you put different shirts up to his body, mumbling to yourself as you make decisions. So pretty.

GymRat!Miguel who waits while you try on some clothes, giddy whenever you show him a new outfit. You managed to find clothes that coordinated with his and you're super excited about it.

"Close your eyes!" you yell through the door.

He does so and listens for you to walk out. After you take a while, he opens his eyes a little.

"Baby, no peeking," you chastise.

He huffs and waits a little longer.

"Ok. 1, 2, 3, open!"

His eyes land on you in a dress that hugs your curves like no other. Your chest fills out the top perfectly and seeing your stomach through the front is driving him mad.

"Do you like it?" you turned around, giving Miguel a grand view of how your ass was sitting in the dress.

"Do the dressing rooms have a time limit?"

You blink at him owlishly, "No? Why?"

GymRat!Miguel who drags all of your bags and you back inside of the dressing room with lightning speed. As soon as he locks the door, he's attached to your lips, kneading at your ass and hips.

You gasp in his mouth, shocked at how fast he's moving.

"Miguel, what- oh," you sigh as he leans down and pulls your dress up, face buried in your neck.

"You look so good, mi amor. I can't help it."

GymRat!Miguel who almost cums when you pull his dick out. Your eyes grow along with his erection, watching as he twitches in your hold. You've never taken anyone this big and from your hesitance, Miguel can gather this much.

"We don't have to do anything. In fact, you don't have to do that here," he pants.

"You mean take you down my throat?" you ask, running your thumb over his head, watching in awe as liquid seeped out. Miguel bit his hand to quiet his moans. "I'll wait until we're somewhere more private and less noticeable that I'm on my knees for you."

Miguel looks at the open space under the dressing room door, "Yeah that's probably for the best."

GymRat!Miguel who places you in front of him, both of you facing the mirror. Your dress is bunched up and Miguel is rocking his cock in between your thighs.

He's bent down, biting lightly on your shoulder so that he doesn't shout. Your thighs were so warm and plush against him and his pre-cum was spewing out of him like a fountain.

"You feel so fucking good, baby," he moans a little too loud after a few minutes.

GymRat!Miguel who watches you in the mirror. Your tits were so close to slipping from the top of your dress, the impact from his hips jerking your entire body. He grabbed at both of them, watching as you moan at the contact. His slaps got louder and louder, milky fluid running down your legs.

GymRat!Miguel who is overcome with need when you turn and run your tongue across his earlobe. He convulses as his release spurts across the room, landing on the mirror. He grips your hips and breathes hard into your skin, the tempo of his heart moving quick.

You pat his head and praise him, heavy eyes following your hand as you rub his tip that's still rubbing through your thighs. He whines, sensitive, but not moving away from you.

GymRat!Miguel who wipes you down carefully with some wipes you have in your purse. Luckily you both haven't ruined yet another pair of underwear.

He kisses you softly when he finishes, little confessions of love traveling from his lips to yours.

GymRat!Miguel who checks the dressing room one last time, making sure he's gotten any evidence of his removed from the area. Your green dress is in his arms and you've changed back to your outfit.

The area is clean, but there are fresh hickeys on your neck, something he got carried away with.

GymRat!Miguel who walks out like nothing happened. You on the other hand, hand over some extra clothes you didn't like to a worker in slight embarrassment. He eyes you both with a look of horror.

GymRat!Miguel who feeds you Auntie Anne's in the crowded food court. You hum happily after each bite. He dusts cinnamon off the corner of your lips with a smile.

GymRat!Miguel who moves from dusting to leaning across the table to lick the crumbs off when a table full of guys keeps eying you.

"What was that for?" you asked, oblivious to the hound dogs around you.

"Nothing. I just love you, baby."

dividers by: @plutism 🩵

a/n: I got a very useful lesson on condoms and BJs while writing this chapter. It won't ever be applied to this fic, BUT it was still kinda fun nonetheless.

HOPE YOU ENJOYED!! Leave a like, a reblog, and COMMENTS if you did!!! 🩵

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[notjustjavierpena]

I have recently watched scenes from a marriage with oscar isaac and my mind which connects everything with hubby javi immediately went to this:

imagine wife’s and javi’s friends are going through a divorce, there’s cheating m, miscommunication etc and just a very hard time.

I feel like Javi and Wife would have a conversation about this due to the proximity of it happening to their friends. One about trust and if they’re happy. It’s not about insecurity or anything just them both communicating effectively and giving the other reassurance that this is not on the cards for them.

I just value their relationship so much.

Reassess

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Hiya anon! I hope it’s okay that I tweaked your request slightly to fit my version of hubby and wife. Enjoy ❤️ Thanks so much for proofreading, @angelofsmalldeath-codeine !!!

Summary: You and Javier’s friends are going through a divorce, and it suddenly makes you wonder about your own marriage.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18, talk about divorce, talk about cheating, brief descriptions of piv sex with creampie, hurt/comfort, love!, mention of pregnancy and pregnant reader, cuddling, kisses, Javier is a great husband and you are anxious

Word count: 1.6k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54352768

Reassess

Jonathan and Mira are getting a divorce. The news had been announced to you by Javier when he entered the dimly lit living room on a Thursday night, looking paler than a ghost after what you had wrongly assumed to be a same-as-always phone conversation about football, work and going out for a beer in the near future. 

“No!” You had instinctively covered your mouth with your hand to suppress an animated gasp. Apparently, Mira had come clean about seeing another man a few days earlier and it only took shy of two days for their whole marriage to crumble. The thought was and is terrifying. 

It seems to dampen the mood between you and your husband significantly. There are more pregnant silences, longer stares, more hurried kisses, and worried faces in the middle of your daily routines that become opportunities for reflection when doing something mundane as folding laundry. However, the elephant in the room becomes most unbearable when Javier rolls off of you after making love to you a week after the news hit. 

He stares up at the ceiling and pants as he tries coming down from his high, reaching up to run his fingers through his slightly sweaty hair. You shift on your side of the bed to turn your body towards him, and gently lay a hand on his chest, “That was really good.”

“Hm? What?” He replies, “Oh right, yeah.”

“Honey,” you furrow your brow, “I don’t think I particularly like having sex with you if you’re not here with me.” 

“Lo siento (I’m sorry),” his eyes find yours, his voice is genuine, “I can’t stop thinking about Jon and Mira.”

Your eyes soften at that. It is nice to know that he is as shaken by this happening as you are, and in such close proximity to your own marriage too even if it technically has nothing to do with you. It suddenly hits why it has been so hard to start up a conversation about it. 

“Me either,” you sigh and scratch his chest gently with your nails and lay your head on his shoulder. He takes hold of your wrist and rubs the back of your hand with his thumb in soothing circles, “I can’t believe they ended up like that, who would have thought?”

“And Ava?” Javier sounds devastated and turns his head toward yours so he can rest his lips in your hair. 

“She must be so confused,” you mumble back, lost in thought. Ava is Mira and Jonathan’s daughter who sometimes has play dates with Inés, and to think that she has to deal with her parents not being able to work as a couple, especially since Mira apparently had to go sleep with someone else, is a scenario that you find nauseating when your brain automatically starts imagining your own children in the same scenario. You don’t think Lucas would ever forgive you if you caused that much hurt to his father, “I don’t know what Mira was thinking. Ava has to deal with her mom having hurt her dad. Why would she put her through that?”

“Jonathan said she’s in love with this new guy,” Javier argues. 

“I suppose sometimes you just fall in love with someone else,” you say without any emotion in your voice except for maybe a hint of disgust. 

“Are you happy? With me?” The question has been looming over the both of you since the news hit. It was only a matter of time before one of you would start reassessing your own marriage. 

You lift your head up to look Javier straight in the eyes, and even if you knew it was coming, you still feel taken aback by how much it makes your guts turn to even be told to consider it. The answer is so clear, “What? I—“

“That’s not an immediate yes,” he furrows his brow in concern. 

“Don’t be absurd,” you say back, “I love you so much it’s ridiculous.”

“But do you ever worry about us?” He continues. 

“This is the part where you say you love me too,” you joke without much humor in your voice. 

“Are you kidding? I’m nothing without you,” he lifts the hand you still have on his chest to kiss your palm, “Te amo tanto (I love you so much) but I need you to answer the question.”

“I don’t ever worry about us, no,” you answer truthfully and Javier visibly relaxes, “I know you. I trust you. It doesn’t even occur to me that I could have anything different in my life, you know? It feels like I would always have found you somewhere else if not here.”

“Perhaps they looked for something else when things became routine,” he suggests, resting your hand against his cheek.

“It’s never routine for me to tell you I love you,” you tell him with a little smile, “There’s no going back to the way things were before you.” 

“The idea of having anything else but this,” he trails off for a second, weighing his words and reaching out for you with his free hand. He cups the back of your knee to pull your leg over his naked body, “It’s just not in the cards for me. I’ll never love anyone the way that I love you.”

“Is this code for you’re stuck with me?” You crawl closer to kiss him on the mouth and tighten the leg around him, “Hm?”

“Sí (yes), you’re stuck with me, baby,” he says against your lips. 

“Do you promise that?” You whisper after pulling back a little, smiling softly as you look down at his mouth. He initiates another kiss after nodding. 

You kiss for a while without rushing it, deeply until you share each breath in your intense embrace. Despite just having had sex with him fifteen minutes ago, you want him again in a way that has him as hard as when you first got together. He fucks you open slowly with you on your back, makes you come on his cock with an almost pained tone in your whimper. He is everywhere on you, soaking you in love. The way he gasps along with you as he comes inside of you has your heart pounding in your chest. 

“No quiero a nadie más que a ti (I don’t want anyone else other than you),” he says when basking in the afterglow. However, you have already gotten out of bed to get cleaned up in the bathroom. In contrast to your husband, your afterglow is replaced by anxiety that you have just promised isn’t there. 

“I don’t want to end up like that,” you say while peeing with the door open. Javier moves on the bed to be able to look at you. 

“We won’t, te lo prometo (I promise you that),” he is quick to answer. You try to give him a smile but he notices the way you falter, “Anything you want to talk about? Anything on your mind?"

“They used to be so happy,” you sigh deeply and get up after finishing your business. You move to the sink and start washing your hands, your back suddenly towards him, “Makes me wonder if we're strong enough to weather anything.”

You hear the weight of him shift on the mattress and a second later, the soft pads of his feet across the tiled bathroom floor. He is behind you, looking at you in the mirror. You feel grateful for the sincerity in his eyes.

“Baby,” he tuts, wrapping his strong arms around you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. One of his hands goes down to lay on your stomach right below your belly button. You have just started to show, and the both of you have already talked about how early it is that your belly has started protruding but none of you have any clue why yet as you haven’t had your first scan. 

Javier kisses your bare shoulder, “This is my life, and I love it, and I would never hurt you… I trust you not to hurt me too.”

You silently turn off the tap to dry your hands but Javier doesn’t let you move. He lifts your chin so he can stare at you in the mirror, “I need you to trust me when I say that ten years with you have only made me want ten, twenty, thirty more. I love you. I choose you every day. Jonathan and Mira didn’t choose each other. We’re not them.”

“I love you too,” you shake your hands dry instead and then turn in your husband’s arms. You hug him close and he walks you out of the bathroom whilst still holding you tightly. 

“Three kids so far,” he reminds you whilst guiding you back to bed, “A decade down the line. We must be doing something right.”

“But what if—“

“You worry too much, mi vida (my life),” he says and smacks your ass as you crawl back into your bed. You glare back at him but he just snickers while crawling in too, “Get comfortable and go to sleep.”

“I don’t know if I can,” you say truthfully.

“Of course, you can,” Javier joins you under the covers. He lays down close to you and without saying a word, reaches out to gently and repeatedly stroke his hand over your hair. The warmth of his palm soothes your worry, each caress easing away the weight in your chest. 

You wonder if Mira left because Jonathan didn’t do this sort of thing anymore. Javier has done it for ten years. This fact makes sleep find you easily.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[joelsmochi]

honeypie - joel miller

summary: part 2 to honey (can be read as a standalone, doesn’t have much to do with the original plot!) warnings: not proofread, 18+, slight angst?, age gap (everyone is legal!!!!!), bickering/arguing, double date trope womp womp, degradation, dubcon, creampie, joel is a smidge misogynistic insecure and possessive wc: 2.6k a/n: this is mainly just some self indulgent yet rushed storytelling (so sorry, i wrote it in an hour because i was bored at work lol)! i wanna write a part 3 and actually include the beekeeping a little more but i have nooo idea how i’m gonna do it but we WILL get there one day babes!!! until then, enjoy this fluffy angsty sex 😽!!!💓

series masterlist | main masterlist

-

“If you guys are gonna bang when I’m in the house the least you could do is be quiet!” You heard Sarah shout from the other side of Joel’s bedroom door after banging on it.

Joel grimaced, his body tensing beneath you but you were almost oblivious to the complaints of your best friend. Almost.

You didn’t let up on your movements or noises whatsoever and as much as Joel loved those sweet little moans spewing from you as you humped against him, he loved his privacy much more especially when it came to his daughter.

You shook your head profusely when he attempted to get you to stop, insisting on how you were almost there.

“Soclosesoclosesoclose—just w-wait, I’m cu—fuck. Ahh, fuck, I’m cumming. Oh yes! Yesyesyesyesyes! Ohh—oh, my God—“

Joel covered your mouth with a clammy hand, feeling torn from his mixed feelings of lust and embarrassment.

Going downstairs didn’t help him feel any better either, especially when Sarah began berating you both, not that he blamed her for it.

“Call it payback for all the times I let you and your boyfriend have sex in my bed,” you retorted.

“In your bed?!” Joel mumbled to himself.

“Yeah yeah, could have at least waited until I was gone,” Sarah muttered.

“Sorry, Sar,” you hummed, “your dad is just really hot.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Come on, man.”

“I didn’t even know you were home,” Joel complained. “You’ve been with Jared or whatever his name is all week.”

Sarah’s squinted her eyes, annoyed by the lack of care from her father. “Alex. His name is Alex dad—see, I hate this!”

“Oh, by the way, Sarah,” you said, pattering behind the kitchen counter, “wouldn’t use the open jar of honey if I were you.”

“UGH! EW! Fucking ew!”

♡

“Other than the obvious,” Sarah mumbled, “how’s my dad taking care of you?”

You wore a bright smile and looked away from your reflection momentarily. Joel was… Joel. Rough around the edges but he was a genuine person, confident in the external reality but a little insecure. Not unbearably insecure though, just enough to make you know he was trying his best.

He wasn’t the most romantic but you figured it was just from him being out of the game for so long and you knew you could train him to be more romantic if it was needed.

He didn’t push you aside or make attempts to subtly suggest you needed to leave after sex either; he’d pout real big and give you those gorgeous puppy dog eyes until you held him. He loved making you laugh.

But it definitely still felt like just sex rather than a relationship. You weren’t particularly complaining, but you weren’t bragging about it either.

“Good,” you answered.

Sarah could tell from your tone how honest it was. Good meant great, happy, damn near perfect.

“Good. I’m glad,” she said. “I was worried he’d be like one of those incels that get real creepy and pervy after thirty-five.”

“No, no, he’s great,” you reiterated. “He’s very funny. Smart. He asks me to tan in my bikini while he’s working on the hive or the yard.”

You watched from the corner of your makeup coated eye how tightly she grimaced.

“Images. In head. Don’t want them there,” she dramatized.

“I have to hear every last detail about you and Al up to where he’s shoving your cervix into your stomach. You can deal with a little sexiness from us,” you said.

“It’s just so weird,” she whined.

“Do you want me to stop seeing him?” You asked.

You had slowly began to worry about how this would affect your best friend over time, you knew it was a weird situation. You had no issue cutting Joel off if it meant Sarah got to be happy. There were other men in the world, there weren’t other Sarah’s.

“No, God! No. It’s just not as simple as I was expecting. You know?” She explained kindly.

“Totally! I’d be weirded out if you were hooking up with my dad while I was across the hall. I’m not blaming you there, or anywhere for that matter. Just know you come first.”

“Well, yeah, who else is going to wax your back hair and not judge you for it?” She teased.

You rolled your eyes at her.

“Lots of men with weird fetishes.”

♡

“Can’t believe I agreed to this,” Joel huffed.

He adjusted the waistband of his jeans making his shoulder briefly flare. You let your mind wander while Joel complained about the double date you had arranged with Sarah and Alex. You were currently waiting in the parking lot for them to arrive.

“It’ll be fun. You’ll get to meet Alex and see he is a respectable man and you and I get to pretend we’re a couple for a few hours.”

“Pretend?” Joel questioned. “W-what do you mean pretend? Are we not together?”

“Uh, no?” You said.

Joel didn’t appreciate your amused reaction and questioned you a little more.

“You never asked me to be your girlfriend— you haven’t even taken me on a date,” you explained. “Did you really think that conversation wasn’t necessary?”

“So if we’re not together then what is this?”

You sucked your teeth before simply saying, “Sex.”

Once the four of you were inside Sarah and her boyfriend felt the tension between the two of you.

You watched Joel punch in all of your names into the keypad before pressing ‘start game’.

“So Alex, what do you do for work?” Joel asked.

“Oh, well right now I’m working at a café downtown, but I’m majoring in political science to become a lawyer.”

“A lawyer?” Joel sounded impressed.

“Lawyers are great at communicating,” you antagonized. “They know what questions are… Important to ask.”

Joel rolled his eyes and motioned between you and the bowling balls. “Just go. Good God.”

“Dad, what did you do?” Sarah asked.

“Why do you assume it’s my fault?” He defended.

“Girl, what did he do?” She asked you.

Shrugging, you said, “I don’t know. Since Joel thinks he’s so great at communicating, maybe he should answer. I’m gonna go bowl.”

“Hope you gutter!” Joel shouted after you walked away. “She told me I needed to ask her to be my girlfriend.”

“You thought she was your girlfriend?!” Sarah said with wide eyes.

“Well… Yeah? Do I really need to verbally ask her that?”

“That’s why I got a strike, bitch,” you said while slapping the back of Joel’s head.

Sarah and Alex awkwardly stood up so that he could pretend to teach Sarah how to bowl properly. But the bickering between you and Joel didn’t end there.

“I thought it was obvious,” Joel told you. “I have you over all the time. We fuck. We laugh. Did I really need to ask?”

“So what would have happened if I pissed you off and you were to say ‘it’s not like you’re my girlfriend’?”

“I do not sound like that!” Joel scoffed. “And I would never do that to you, you know that. I just kinda figured you were mine, you know?”

You squinted at his unearned possession over you, feigning offense and scoffing obnoxiously.

“Yours? I’m not your property, Joel. You don’t get to claim me.”

“Oh yeah? And what are you goin’ to do about it? Fuck some other loser?”

You grinned, and immediately he regretted his words.

“That’s exactly what I’ll do,” you whispered.

Alex and Sarah sat back down and you asked if they wanted anything to eat or drink before walking away to go to the bar.

“Hi, what can I get for ya?” The boy at the counter asked.

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen, why?”

“You see the older man on lane twelve?”

He looked and then nodded.

“Well, I wanna make jealous so if you could just smile and pretend to flirt with me I’ll give you ten bucks,” you explained with a sly smirk.

“Fifteen,” he negotiated.

“Ugh, fine. Can I get two lemonades, a beer, and a water please?”

“That’s not coming out of my tip, is it?” He questioned whilst punching the order into his screen.

“It will if you don’t start looking at my boobs,” you said through your faux smile.

You leaned onto the counter and gave the employee a clear view of your cleavage, which he seemed to appreciate very much.

But Joel wasn’t only focused on the teenage boy behind the counter, he noticed the numerous men gawking at your short shorts that showed off too much of your ass with you bent over the counter the way you were.

“Dad,” Sarah’s voice brought him back to reality. “Your turn.”

By the time Joel managed to spare you had returned with everyone’s drinks and Joel didn’t give you the satisfying reaction of jealousy like you’d hoped.

Wondering if you went too far, you drank a bit of Joel’s beer to imprint a lip gloss stain for Joel to taste in between sips. Something you noticed he loved to do over the past few weeks whenever he made you coffee or tea. You never finished your drinks and Joel always lined his mouth up with your lip print to taste you every chance he got.

And as you gave him the cheap plastic cup that held his beer, you watched as he habitually sipped right where your lips had been. Occasionally licking the rim of the cup before taking his next swig.

A couple of games later, you and Sarah managed to team up against the boys and kick their asses each and every frame. They sulked while you two gloated from the ending of the final game all the way back to the cars.

“Okay, okay. We get it, girls rule, boys lose,” Alex said.

“It’s boys drool,” Sarah corrected before turning to hug her father who placed a kiss on her forehead. “Night, dad. I’m gonna stay at Alex’s.”

“Okay, babygirl. Call me tomorrow.”

“Oh, and word of advice,” Sarah whispered after you got into Joel’s car. “Girls like what boys consider pointless communication. Take her out a few times, make her feel special, and ask her to be your girlfriend. She really likes you, she’s just making you earn it.”

Joel softly smiled and nodded. “Mmkay. Thanks.”

Once he got in the car he didn’t acknowledge you in the least bit, finally free to punish you for letting those men get a free show.

“Not a word?” You nudged his arm as he drove. “You could ask me now.”

He snickered, the most noise he’s made in the last ten minutes.

“You don’t get to just fucking claim me, Joel!”

Joel sped up before pulling into a rest area.

“Come’ere,” he hoarsely demanded.

He unclipped his seatbelt and began undoing his belt and jeans.

“Don’t get all fuckin’ shy on me now, girl. Come on.”

You hesitated but unbuckled your seatbelt and climbed into his lap; he moved his seat all the way back and pushed his jeans low enough for his cock to spring up and slap his belly.

Instinctively you reached for it, but he removed your hand from his hardening length and held your wrists tightly behind your back with one hand. Using his other hand to grab your face by your cheeks he forced you to look into his cold eyes.

“Do you not want to be with me?” His voice strained as he asked that, a hint of hurt glaring in his dark eyes.

“Of course I want to be with you,” you answered.

“I don’t play games,” he said, gripping your wrists even tighter. “Don’t fucking—“ A soft smack landed upon your cheek. “Don’t fucking do what you did tonight ever again. Get on your knees.”

He slightly shoved you back as he loosened his grip on your hands and face; you submissively sank to the rough carpeted floor of the car and he wasted no time pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail and shoving his fat dick into your wet mouth.

He tasted so fucking good, the mix of his clean flesh and salty precum like honey dripping onto your tongue. Your eyes rolled back and you moaned along his shaft as you eagerly bobbed your already hazy head up and down.

Joel’s hips rolled up in pleasure, gurgling out helpless moans as your nose rubbed the wiry hairs along the base of his shaft. Despite the aching and soreness, you loved having your throat full of Joel.

You took initiative and pushed against his hand, nonverbally telling him to make you suffer, and he shamelessly did so.

He couldn’t tell if the slick that was coating his balls was your spit or tears and he didn’t give a fuck. If you were going to show some loser teenager your tits and some loser bachelors your ass the least you could give him was some fucking remorse, right?

Joel felt powerful, in charge in ways he never experienced before. Your flooded eyes looked into his and saw how contorted his face was, so even if he was the one telling you what to do you knew you had him wrapped around your finger.

“Give me that fuckin’ throat, baby,” he moaned. “Oh, fuck! That throat is so fucking tight—mnh. God…damn baby. Feels so fucking good.”

He smacked your wet cheeks as encouragement before slowly pulling you off of his dick; you coughed at the gust of oxygen that flooded your lungs, giggling as he smacked his fat tip against your puffy mouth.

“Look at you, baby,” he whispered. “So pretty when my cock shuts that smart fuckin’ mouth a’yours up.”

“You love my fucking mouth,” you smugly said as you climbed into his lap.

“I do, but I think you forget what it’s supposed to be used for,” he whispered.

“You can stuff my mouth all you want, I’m still gonna give you a reason to use it.”

An eyebrow of his cocked up and a grin spread across his face at your confidence.

“Take your pants off,” he instructed seductively. His rough hands ran up your arms and back while you did what he said. “There you go,” he moaned when you slid down on his wet cock. “You’re such a good fucking slut for me, honey.”

“Just—just ask me, and I’ll s-say yes!” You shakily moaned as you relentlessly bounced on his dick.

Joel gripped your neck and began fucking into you from below, pushing deeper than he needed to, definitely bruising your cervix.

“You know you belong to me. All that fucking shit about claiming you and how I don’t own you, fuck was that?”

“Joe—elll, ugh!” You screamed into his chest, not sure if you were cumming or if your cunt was just overwhelmed with sensitivity. “Just ask, just ask baby I promise I’ll be good I’ll never misbehave again.”

He popped your ass and chuckled cruelly when you flinched and moaned. “Be my girlfriend, babydoll. Hmm? I want you to be my girl. You’re already my slut. Will you be my girl, babydoll?”

Your eyes gawked up at him and you couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged against your lips.

“Yes! Yes, yes, baby! Oh fuck, oh fuck!”

“Say it,” he begged. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours Joel! Fuckfuckyes I’m yours! I belong to you! I fucking belong to you!”

Joel felt the familiar deep stretch in the peak of his belly at your cries. He listened to you submit to him, let him claim you as his, ultimately marking his territory as he began to cum inside of your warm cunt.

“Thaaaat’s my good girl,” Joel growled as he fucked the last of his spend into you.

“Fuck,” you exhaled, climbing off of him. “You’re such an ass.”

He chuckled at this, the softness in his laughter coaxing a giggle from you.

“You love me,” he mumbled.

“Mmm, not quite,” you said as confidently as your tired body would allow.

“Oh, honeypie… You’ll get there soon enough.”

[chiyuuchu]

Monoma’s Undeniable Crush <3 (30th July 2024)

Neito Monoma x Reader

Prompt! Monoma Neito mistakes his obvious crush on Class 1-A’s angel as hatred.

Class 1-B was in the midst of their training session when Class 1-A arrived for a joint exercise. Monoma, ever the outspoken rival, couldn’t help but notice the new addition to Class 1-A: Y/N. She was a quiet girl with a serene presence, her gentle smile and ethereal aura catching everyone’s attention.

Monoma scoffed as he watched her. “Who does she think she is, just standing there all serene and perfect? What’s with that angelic demeanor?”

Kendo, sitting next to him, raised an eyebrow. “You seem unusually interested in Y/N.”

“Please,” Monoma retorted, “I just don’t get why she’s so revered. She doesn’t even stand out.”

Y/N had a quirk called Celestial Harmony: She could create glowing, angelic wings that emanate a soothing light, which could heal minor injuries and calm aggressive emotions. During the joint class activity, Monoma watched as she used her quirk to heal a fellow student. The elegant and calming way she used her power irked him further.

“Why is she always so calm and collected?” Monoma grumbled to his friends. “And why does everyone act like she’s some kind of saint?”

His classmates exchanged glances but remained silent, unsure how to address Monoma’s increasingly intense reactions.

One day, Monoma overheard a conversation between two of his classmates discussing Y/N’s quirk and how it had helped them. They marveled at how her presence seemed to bring a sense of peace and comfort.

“She’s just a classmate,” Monoma snapped. “There’s nothing special about her.”

Yet, when he saw Y/N using her quirk to help others, her aura of kindness and the soothing light she emitted began to cut through his façade. He found himself feeling inexplicably annoyed and intrigued at the same time.

During the next joint training exercise, Monoma and Y/N were paired together. Despite his initial reluctance, Monoma found himself observing her closely. As she used her wings to assist their team and soothe the group’s nerves, he was struck by the gentle and genuine nature of her abilities.

“Why do I keep finding myself so irritated by her?” Monoma muttered to himself. “It’s not like I care about her opinion.”

Yet, there was something about her demeanor that unsettled him. He couldn’t ignore the way his heart raced whenever she was near.

Monoma’s frustration reached a peak during a class meeting where everyone discussed their favorite moments from the recent joint exercise. Y/N’s name came up frequently, and Monoma couldn’t contain his irritation.

“Why is everyone so obsessed with her?” he snapped. “She’s not even that impressive.”

Kendo, sensing his frustration, decided to address it directly. “Monoma, you seem really worked up about Y/N. Maybe there’s more to it than you realize.”

Monoma’s face reddened, and he quickly changed the subject, but Kendo’s words lingered in his mind.

Later that day, the tension in Class 1-B was palpable as Monoma and his classmates engaged in a heated discussion. The topic of the day was the recent inter-class competition, and Monoma, ever the competitive spirit, had taken it upon himself to criticize Class 1-A's latest achievements.

“You know,” Monoma began, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “I really don’t get why Class 1-A is so praised. It’s not like they have anyone impressive there—except for maybe Y/N. I mean, if you really think about it, she's just—”

As Monoma spoke, his eyes briefly met Y/N’s, who was sitting across from him, and he faltered. The words he had intended to use for criticism instead turned into a series of stuttering compliments.

“—Just, really… I mean, she’s always so—so stunning and incredibly talented. It’s so annoying! It’s like, no matter what she does, she just shines, you know? And her kindness—oh, it’s practically unbearable. She’s got this—this aura that makes everyone else look dull by comparison. It’s infuriating how perfect she is!”

Monoma’s face turned a bright shade of red as he realized what had just come out of his mouth. The classroom erupted into laughter, and his classmates exchanged amused glances.

Kaminari snickered, “Nice try, Monoma. You almost made it sound like you’re a fan of hers or something.”

Yaomomo, always quick with a quip, added, “Yeah, I didn’t know you had it in you to compliment anyone, let alone Y/N.”

Monoma’s usual confident demeanor had evaporated, leaving him flustered and unable to form coherent sentences. He fumbled with his words as he tried to recover from the unexpected praise he had just given.

“I—I didn’t mean to—uh, I mean, it’s just that—ugh, forget it!” Monoma stammered, his cheeks flushed.

Y/N, sitting quietly and trying to hide her smile, looked over at Monoma with an amused expression. “Thanks for the compliments, Monoma. I didn’t know you felt that way.”

Monoma’s eyes widened in shock, and he struggled to regain his composure. “I—I didn’t mean it like that. I was just—just—”

The class continued to giggle at Monoma’s embarrassment, finding his blunder both amusing and endearing. Monoma sighed in defeat, realizing that his attempt at an insult had backfired spectacularly.

As the laughter died down, Monoma tried to steer the conversation back on track, but the class’s teasing and the memory of his unintended compliment lingered in the air, leaving him red-faced and awkwardly stumbling over his words for the rest of the day.

After weeks of internal struggle, Monoma started to notice his own reactions towards Y/N. He found himself following her around more, involuntarily catching himself watching her from afar. His disdain had turned into a fascination he couldn’t quite understand.

One afternoon, as he sat alone in a quiet corner of the school, he overheard Y/N and some of her friends talking about their recent activities. Her voice was soft, and her words were filled with kindness and genuine interest in others.

“It’s just...why does she make me feel this way?” Monoma pondered aloud. “I thought I hated her, but...”

His feelings of frustration were now replaced by a confusing mix of admiration and something deeper.

It was during a particularly intense training session that Monoma’s emotions reached a boiling point. After a grueling exercise, Y/N approached him to offer encouragement, her warm presence and kind words surprising him.

“Hey, you did well today,” she said softly. “Keep pushing yourself.”

Monoma was taken aback by her unexpected kindness. He found himself unable to respond, caught between his usual bravado and a newfound vulnerability.

“I—! Why you! You need to stop charming people around you and stop walking the earth like you’re a flowery goddess or something!” Before she could even reply he was already bolting away.

Later that day, he confided in Kendo, who listened patiently. “I don’t get it. I used to think I hated her, but now...”

Kendo smiled knowingly. “It sounds like you’ve got a crush on her.”

Monoma’s eyes widened in disbelief. “A crush? On Y/N?”

Kendo nodded. “It happens. Sometimes what we think is hatred is just our way of dealing with feelings we don’t understand.”

Monoma’s feelings for Y/N became increasingly undeniable. He began to appreciate her for who she was, rather than just a rival. His interactions with her became less confrontational and more genuine. He found himself looking forward to their encounters, cherishing the moments they shared.

One day, after a particularly insightful conversation with Y/N, Monoma took a deep breath and admitted to himself that his feelings had evolved beyond mere rivalry.

“Maybe Kendo was right,” he mused. “I think I actually like her. A lot.”

As Monoma’s demeanor towards Y/N softened, his classmates began to notice the change. They observed how he interacted with her with a newfound respect and occasional shyness.

Kendo remarked to the others, “Looks like Monoma finally figured it out. He’s really come around.”

Setsuna added with a chuckle, “It’s kind of sweet, actually. Who would have thought Monoma would end up being so... infatuated?”

The rest of Class 1-B watched with a mix of amusement and approval as Monoma navigated his feelings for Y/N. Despite his initial resentment, it was clear to everyone that he had developed a genuine admiration for her.

And as Monoma continued to grapple with his feelings, he found himself learning more about himself than he ever anticipated—discovering that even the fiercest rivals could find themselves captivated by someone who seemed to challenge their very essence.

The afternoon sun bathed U.A. in a warm glow as students finished their classes for the day. Y/N was chatting with a few friends near the school gates, laughing and enjoying the casual end-of-day banter. Monoma, who had been watching from a distance, suddenly strode up to her with a determined expression on his face.

Without a word, Monoma pulled a bouquet of vibrant, mixed flowers from behind his back. He thrust them into Y/N's arms, their colorful petals spilling out, and then turned on his heel and walked away briskly.

Y/N blinked in surprise, staring at the bouquet in her arms. She looked up to see Monoma walking away, his shoulders tense and his pace hurried. The gesture was so abrupt and unexpected that she couldn’t help but laugh softly to herself.

Her friends looked at her, puzzled and amused. "Uh, did Monoma just give you flowers?" Kaminari asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Seems like it,” Y/N replied, still holding the bouquet, her eyes following Monoma’s retreating figure. “That was…random.”

Uraraka giggled, “Looks like someone’s been feeling a bit more affectionate lately. Maybe he’s trying to make up for something.”

“Or maybe he just wanted to get a reaction out of you,” Sero added with a smirk.

Y/N, still holding the flowers, shrugged. “Either way, it’s a nice surprise.”

As she admired the bouquet, Monoma's friends watched him from a distance. Monoma, now out of sight, leaned against a wall, his face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and satisfaction. He couldn’t believe he had just done that so impulsively.

“Did you see that?” Kendo asked, her eyes wide. “Monoma actually gave her flowers and walked away like that was completely normal.”

“Yeah,” TetsuTetsu said with a chuckle, “he definitely has a way of making things awkwardly charming.”

As Y/N rejoined her friends, they continued to tease her about the unexpected gesture. The flowers in her arms felt like a sweet reminder of Monoma's unpredictable behavior, and she couldn’t help but smile at the thought of his peculiar yet endearing way of showing affection.

[mutable-manifestation]

Actual Scientists Jack & Maddie AU Part 4

Part 1 & 2

Part 3

Explaining The Papers (™) to Frostbite takes a While (also ™).

Though with no more imminent threat of “Vlad maybe finding out he’s the ghost king and becoming Insufferable (also also ™) about it” Danny was feeling a lot less stressed - Sam and Tucker, too, if the fact that they were actually drinking their tea now instead of just barely sipping at it was any indication - or they could’ve only just cooled enough to actually drink, the FF did tend to overestimate the level of heat they could tolerate just a tad.

Not to say that he wasn’t still stressed, given the whole “the Justice League is trying to summon ME” thing. But like. They were reaching out hoping for peace, not hoping to skin/dissect/exterminate him. 

Plus they don’t know how to summon him; he figures he has time. Hopefully enough to get Frostbite’s advice.

And mostly to cool his own nerves, because now that he knows they did try to help and are helping the Justice League is Cool again! And they want to meet him! 

Well, they want to meet the ghost king, but they already watched him! They thought he was a capable hero! 

Danny isn’t really used to getting positive feedback, so being called “good hands” by Superman - Superman! The hero! The Alien hero! (well, one of them. Martian Manhunter is also amazing but he hasn’t complimented Danny in person yet so he doesn’t have any expectations for Danny to live up to. Maybe. Hypothetically). 

The JL is so cool and they think he’s cool! Or at least capable! Except now he has to impress them not just as a hero but as a king?

Yeah.

Suffice to say, Danny is now a little nervous.

(And also maybe redirecting his nerves intentionally to be about the JL so he doesn’t have to breathe into a bag about being probably the only thing between the Zone and eventual total dimensional collapse because Frostbite was very ‘this is normal and okay’ about it but it’s eventual total dimensional collapse [ALL OF THEM] and it is Danny’s problem. But no, he’s just nervous about meeting the JL. Totally.)

Reciting pretty much his whole life story - well, the basics of his parents’ work and then pretty much everything from the portal onward - gives him time to untense, and honestly, getting it all out to a mostly uninvolved third party - one he likes and trusts - really is a weight off his shoulders.

He’ll never tell Jazz; the amount of I-told-you-so-energy she’d leech into the air would be unbearable.

Sam and Tucker tag in here and there too, and mostly take over when they get to the part where the GIW bought Fenton Works for a short while to try and destroy the zone. Danny winces at the memory of his behavior back then.

The explanation runs for longer than it could have, given the aside they make when they get to his parents’ theories. 

Frostbite is quick to confirm the combat-as-a-positive-social-behavior thing, and it turns out Sam is right about how to tell the difference.

Of course, Danny thinks they were all trying to kill him the rest of the way, but then that’s not a concern most ghosts have, so Frostbite offers his own perspective.

Skulker wants to hang his pelt on a wall: clearly unfriendly.

Technus is just having fun - enjoying playing with new technology in the living realm and throwing Danny around/being thrown around. He’s a friend. The whole world domination idea isn’t malicious as far as he’s concerned, because damage to the living realm doesn’t mean much to ghosts. What do they care about the living? What is the value of a single world as collateral when weighed against the games of ghosts? 

If Danny wants him to stop that, Frostbite tells him, he can just propose a new game.

Ember genuinely just wanted a powerboost from the Earth that first time, but her returns since are a gesture of friendship.

Spectra definitely hates him though. Which is good. He wouldn’t know how to feel if Frostbite had said that that whole mess was an attempt at friendship.

As for the thing with his parents, Frostbite compares it to winning a tournament only to find out the other participants lost intentionally. You haven’t really won a competition if the competitors were not competing. 

Like going in for a handshake only to get a “too slow” - even more insulting if it’s the first “too slow” you’ve ever gotten - Tucker suggests.

Or like asking a parent to a hug and only getting a wave. Not even a high-five.

They each go through another three cups of tea before the story winds down, Frostbite doing adding little more than the occasional nod or noise of acknowledgement - barring the social combat explanation, of course. 

It’s nice, Danny thinks, to have an adult that actually listens. Even if said adult is a dead yeti.

“You have given me much to think on Great One, Friends Sam and Tucker,” he says after the three of them finally run out of words, giving each of them a nod. “And soon, we shall have much more to discuss. First, however, it seems that I have a meeting to call. And you have living needs that require attending to yet. Eat, rest, and, if you would, return here… let’s say the day after tomorrow? Then we can begin to discuss the…issues. At hand.”

Back in the Specter Speeder, Tucker wonders aloud if “call a meeting” is code for yelling at the Observants.

Then he looks at his PDA and realizes how late it’s gotten - namely, past all of their curfews - and they promptly turn the conversation to getting their story straight (and three backups because they’re all feeling paranoid with how high-stakes everything suddenly became. Not that the occasional ghost looking to wreck earth wasn't already high-stakes, but the whole political aspect made it feel... different).

***

Danny is thankful it’s summer vacation at the moment, because the next morning is a Monday. 

He doesn’t know how he’d manage school with his mind miles away wondering about things like “how to king” and “how to maintain the fabric of reality” and other totally normal, non-stressful topics. 

Just normal high schooler things.

His parents are gone before he’s even up, leaving a note for him and Jazz on the kitchen table. 

They eat a quiet breakfast together.

The whole house is quiet. It’s unnatural, he thinks, and the small frown on Jazz’ face tells him she feels the same. 

They normally enjoy the brief lulls of quiet that their parents leave behind, but this is perhaps the first time they’ve ever missed breakfast - well, the first time they haven’t been in the house during breakfast at least. A welding torch, clanging metal, clinking glass, minor explosions, and excited shouting is the usual background noise of their morning meal - whether from the basement door or at the table itself.

This time, the silence is disquieting.

Even more so since it means that Danny could, at any time, be teleported somewhere. He really should have asked Frostbite about how that works before they left - they’d already missed curfew anyway.

After they’ve both finished eating, he takes the opportunity to fill Jazz in on the whole… everything.

She is, to put it lightly, Not Impressed.

“-s bad enough they let you fight Pariah Dark in the first place! You should never have been in that position! I know that you’re a capable fighter Danny, but you’re fourteen-”

“I’m almost fifteen,” he grumbles.

“You’re not yet fifteen,” she says, glaring into the distance, expression practically snarling. Danny thinks she might be imagining strangling an Observant, based on the… choice words she’d had for them earlier. “And they want you to be a king!”

Tucker chooses that moment to arrive, walking right into the path of where Jazz is glaring and freezing until Sam shoves him out of her way to close the door and drag him into the kitchen.

“Who spat in your cereal?” she asks, moving to sit and kicking the fourth chair out for Tucker.

“Whoever or whatever is responsible for deciding that a fourteen year old child should be king when there are no doubt numerous thousand-plus year old candidates who don’t have human lives they still need to attend to!” She bellows, throwing her hands up in frustration.

The trio exchange a glance while she takes a few calming breaths.

Danny kind of wants to point out that he isn’t a child, he’s a teenager. And she’s barely older than him.

But he does have some sense of self-preservation, even if there’s only so much self left to preserve. Heh.

Then she gasps.

“Danny! You’re still half alive!”

“Er, yes?”

“Maybe that’s why the Watching Wraiths didn’t say anything! Maybe you can’t be the Ghost King if you’re still partly alive!”

“But Frostbite said-” Tucker starts, only to be cut off by Jazz.

“Frostbite could be wrong.” She sniffs. “And even if he isn’t you there are millenia before it becomes a problem. The Zone can wait for you to graduate high school before it goes demanding things of you. Or longer.”

The words are decisive.

Still….

“The Justice League-”

“Can cope. They’ll be a little paranoid about retaliation, but a little paranoia won’t kill them. And maybe letting them stew a bit will teach them to be more active about taking down genocidal organizations before they hurt so many people.”

“That’s a great idea,” Sam says, tone saying the opposite, “except the part where they’re actively working on figuring out how to summon the ghost king - who is Danny - and are probably also going to try and make contact with Phantom at some point - who is also Danny.”

Jazz frowns.

“Well. You don’t have to be a king to talk to the Justice League. Just tell them you’re still too young - which is true - or that the coronation is going to take a long time to plan - which, according to Frostbite, would be a reasonable claim. And also true since you will not be taking the throne until you are at least 18 if the Fenton Peeler and I have anything to say about it.”

“Uh. I don’t know if the Peeler is the best idea. With your…aim.” Tucker cringes, shrinking back in his seat when her unhappy frown snaps to him.

Then she looks thoughtful.

“You know what. I’ll just use a specter deflector. You mentioned before how humans are ghosts in the ghosts zone; see if they still feel like making a child a king when they’ve got an unstrikable target punching their lights out about it.”

“Please don’t antagonize a bunch of ghosts who could try and attack you while you're sleeping,” Danny pleads.

“It’s bad enough that all this has impacted your sleep and grades and attendance records so much; I’m not going to let a bunch of ghost nobles - or whatever they’re called - mess things up for you even more. If they don’t like my proposals they can un-friendly fight me about it, and if you’re worried about retribution I can turn on the house defenses in my room when I sleep. But I am not letting this go.”

She stands.

“Since he didn’t give you a time, we’ll leave to visit Frostbite after breakfast tomorrow-”

“We?” the trio ask hesitantly.

“Of course. But for now, there’s something else we need to do, little brother.”

That said, she turns and heads for the basement.

Danny and Tucker blink at the abrupt departure, while Sam just frowns thoughtfully.

The three exchange one more meaningful glance, before sharing a shrug and moving to follow her.

They arrive in the basement to Fenton Fighting Ring rising out of the floor.

“Uh, Jazz?” Danny tries.

“We’re going to fight!”

In stark contrast to both her words and her furious demeanor upstairs, her tone and expression are bright and eager.

“Um. That’s. Nice, but you know that’s a ghost thing, right?” he offers hesitantly.

“I mean, I still fight with Dora,” Sam adds, the traitor.

“Thank you Sam,” Jazz starts. “But even without that example; you are part ghost, brother mine. That means fighting loved ones is a you thing. I love you, so of course I’m going to fight you.”

“Mom and Dad theorized - and Frostbite confirmed - that the fighting is a social behavior. Many social behaviors are also needs. Members of social species that are not allowed to socialize become stressed and their health worsens. Humans who don’t communicate with other humans for too long experience negative side effects, too little physical contact can lead to depressed mood and so forth,” she monologues as she moves into the ring.

“As you’re still half human, neglecting the social needs of your ghost half could negatively impact your wellbeing. Also. I’m your sister and I love you. If I could never hug you I’d be bummed. This is like the ghost equivalent of that. So. Square up, little brother.”

Danny is kind of touched, actually. 

Still.

“...Don’t you at least want an anti-creep stick?” he asks, gesturing at her general lack of ghost gear as he slips intangibly through the ropes around the ring.

“Nope!” She says cheerfully. “For this match we’ll be doing no powers and no weapons - just basic human strength and skill. We can try other kinds of fights later.”

Danny pales.

“No way! You’re a 4th degree black belt!”

“9th!” she corrects, still cheerfully - and she clearly means well, but for Danny that smile is beginning to look like an omen of ill fortune.

“That’s even worse!” he cries. “I’m only a blue belt! Barely!”

“I ~told~ you you should’ve stuck with mom’s training,” she sing-songs teasingly.

He cringes, but takes a stance.

“Now let's see how much you remember.”

That’s the only warning he gets before she’s in his face.

His strength, speed, stamina, endurance, and durability are all completely back to baseline in human form unless he actively uses his flight to compensate, but one thing he notes as the fight draws on is that his reaction speed is still the same.

Even so, it’s painfully obvious just how beyond him she is in terms of skill.

Without any powers to fall back on, Jazz runs circles around him like it’s nothing.

His reaction speed means that he sees everything she’s doing and that he has time to bring his arms up, but he keeps lagging trying to recall forms and getting shoved around for it, the defenses he manages too poor to be of any use. 

Other times he lags because he’s suppressing instinctual power usage.

And multiple times he accidentally, instinctively abandons proper stance all together, habitually falling into the stance of his usual “feral racoon” style of fighting - as Jazz had one called it - which isn’t much of a stance at all in a fight with no powers. Especially given how it's not made for someone fighting on the ground. She takes brutal advantage of every opening.

He’s on the back foot from the first second of the fight, and it’s obvious that it only lasted for longer than one because Jazz allowed it to, testing him.

It’s frustrating that he’s doing so poorly - he knows he’s doing poorly - but despite that, he really is having fun. 

It reminds him of the training spars at the Far Frozen - restrained skill set, fight with defined boundaries and win conditions-

Aaaaand evidently he let his mind wander too much. 

And Jazz noticed. 

And flipped him.

He’s thoroughly pinned in short order and he cannot for the life of him remember how to escape the hold short of cheating with intangibility.

“Uncle,” he calls.

Jazz pulls him to his feet and ruffles his hair.

He squawks indignantly, but she just chuckles.

"Good fight little brother," she calls as she slips between the ropes out of the ring.

"Our hero," Sam drawls as he follows.

Danny just pouts.

"That was just sad, man," Tucker ribs. "And I thought your early ghost fights were bad."

"I'd like to you do better against the 9th degree blackbelt," he grumbles.

"Don't fret, little brother. You'll improve with time," Jazz says as she rejoins them. "Though we'll have to do refreshers of all the previous levels first, given the amount of skill degradation I just saw. But with regular practice you'll back to your previous level and more in no time!"

"Uh. Refreshers?"

"Of course!"

"That seems a bit overkill just for sparring. Couldn't you just...wear a specter deflector or something? Then I can just not use karate."

Jazz, for the first time in a long time, levels him with a very serious look.

"You said that the reason Frostbite can't be the king instead is because he can't beat you in an all out fight. You told me the alternative."

She grabs him by the shoulders and stares into his eyes.

"Danny, Vlad already made a way to shut you away from your ghost powers. Frostbite may be unwilling to end you, and I don't think Vlad would. But you and I both know there are ghosts out there who would destroy you in a heartbeat for that power. And if Vlad has that kind of device, someone else could get one too. Ecto-weapons can give you a leg up if you get sealed away from your ghost powers, but you'll also need the skill to use them successfuly."

She lets go and steps back, tilting her head thoughtfully.

"Even with the ghost powers it's probably a good idea; the crown and ring might power you up but so did the exoskeleton. Clearly they aren’t the only power-ups out there so you can’t rely on strength alone. Skill could be the determining factor one day. And you already said you had fun," she smiles. "Come on little brother, give in to the karate side."

He grimaces.

"Didn't you say you were gonna make the royalty thing a non-issue for like three more years at least," he whines, slumping dramatically.

She raises a brow.

"A blackbelt isn't made in a day."

"Ugh, fine."

He's actually looking forward to it, but Jazz doesn't need to know that. He's duty-bound as a brother to be as annoyingly contrary about sibling bonding as possible, after all.

When Sam asks if they'll teach her and Tucker as well, Jazz is all too happy to include them - best not to have only one sparring partner, avoid forming bad habits and all that.

Both girls dutifully ignore Tucker's protests while they hash out a schedule. Danny pats his shoulder consolingly.

[silvermarley]

PART TWO FOR THE MUZAN SMUT IM BEGGING YOU 😍😍😍

You ask and you shall receive, dear anon! (Sorry if this isn’t quite up to par)

Crowned

Muzan x Milf!Reader

(this is part two of “Encounter”)

Warnings: fluff, kinda softie Muzan, eventual smut, pwp, pussy slap (1), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, cervix fucking, degrading (lemme know if there’s anything I missed!)

A/N: phew, I’m finally able to make this. I hope I didn’t keep you guys waiting for too long!

Muzan had quickly taken a liking to you. It was all the more reason to keep you within reach.

No demon typically gets this close to the Demon King himself. But you, you’re a special one.

Not only were you beautiful, but you were strong. It enticed Muzan like no other.

You would bring him his chemistry tools and occasionally just have talks with him.

He was a very alluring man.

It wasn’t long before his interest turned into.. love.

Love, you see, was a foreign thing to him. He pretended to love in the past, but this was genuine. To the point where he wanted you to skip the “Muzan-sama”, and just call him Muzan.

The feelings weren’t one sided. You felt your heart skip a beat every time he called for you.

Even your kid took a liking to him. He would allow C/N to watch him work. Somehow, your kid wasn’t afraid of him or his presence from the very beginning.

You would often think about how happy you are to see that your kid has a new father figure in their life.

There was one thing that has been on his mind. Muzan couldn’t wait any longer to officially claim you as his.

It was another day, the same as the others before it. He called you to him, and you answered his call without question, telling C/N that you would be right back.

You stood in front of him, while he sat at his desk.

“Y/N. I have a very important matter to discuss with you.” He started.

He moved from his desk and walked to you.

“I’ve thought about this for quite a long time. But, I finally understand. I want you to become the queen, or rather, I want you to be mine.”

A blush creeped it’s way to your face as you processed his words. His cold hand went to your cheek, to express that he was genuine.

“Are you sure? I mean, I’m no more significant than an average demon..” you ramble.

“Nonsense. My words are true. I mean every part of it, my dear Y/N.”

You go silent, face flushed as you looked up into his crimson eyes.

He can see that you still don’t completely believe him. So he takes the opportunity to connect your lips with his.

His hand that was on your cheek was now moving to the back of your neck, and the other went to your waist.

You didn’t hesitate to kiss back, with all the built up feelings you had for him. He smirked into the kiss at the enthusiasm.

After a little while, he pulled away.

“Do you believe me now? I want you to rule with me. Be my bride.. be mine forever.”

You nod, eyes watering a bit. “I would love to.”

He smiled at you. It’s the first time you’ve seen him smile so softly. The only other times you’ve seen his smile, is in a more sinister context.

From that day on, you were known as “Y/N-sama” or “Lady Y/N” by all demons, including the Uppermoons.

You were given the upmost respect by them, especially Akaza and Kokushibo.

It was perfect. Well, almost.

Muzan wanted to make you his for all of eternity. And while you are his lover, there was still something he had to do.

As much as he wanted that, he wanted you to need him just as much.

The day started with teasing touches and eventually lead to dirty talk in the night when your kid was asleep.

He somehow knew just how to make your heart flutter and your thighs rub together. It was getting almost unbearable, the heat between your legs.

You finally decided you needed him to solve the issue he caused.

So, you asked Nakime to send you to his room. As you expected, you found him experimenting and writing his findings down.

A small smirk tugged at his lips at your presence. Perfect.

“Hm, need anything?” He asked, fully knowing the effect he had on you.

You couldn’t answer, instead your body moved for you. You went to him and straddled his lap.

“Oh?” He hummed. “Needy are we?”

You nodded, embarrassed.

“Use your words.”

“Yes.. please. I need you.” You squirmed.

He groaned at the friction and slapped your ass to stop you. That only added your enjoyment, much to his pleasure.

Muzan had stopped what he was doing. After all, he’s finally getting what he wants. Work can wait.

Without warning, he stood up, making you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist.

“Couldn’t even wait for me to finish my work, how pathetic.”

He set you on the bed and crawled on top of you. In a flash, his lips are on yours.

His sharp teeth bit your bottom lip, drawing blood. He lapped at it, before his tongue danced with your own, making you taste it as well.

He broke the kiss to rid you of your shirt. His eyes were drawn to your bra.

“Red, hm? You just wanted me to see this didn’t you?”

“Yeah..”

His smirk grew bigger as he unclamped it and threw it to the side, marking you from your neck to your chest.

“Pretty fucking tits..” he groaned as he bit and sucked at your nipples.

Hearing your soft moans made him want to ruin you even more. While his lips were latched onto your chest, his hands went to pull off your pants.

He wondered if you had a matching set of lingerie, if you wore this in hopes he would be taking it off you just like he planned.

You didn’t know what to do with your hands, so you began to tug at his clothing.

He let go of your nipple with a pop. “So desperate.. be patient darling.”

He completed his task of taking off your pants. You were wearing all red. His favorite color.

“I bet you were thinking of all the ways I’m going to make you scream for me..” he said, noticing a wet patch on your panties. He hummed in satisfaction.

You looked so good in them, but he was getting rather impatient himself.

His sharp claws ripped them off in an instant. You were going to protest, but before you can he spoke, “I’ll buy you plenty more. I wouldn’t want to miss the sight of you all dolled up for me on another occasion.”

The sight of your glistening pussy made his cock jump in his pants. And it was all his.

“Already made such a mess.. who knew you could be this much of a slut?” He grinned, just as he undid his vest and shirt.

Your eyes scanned over his muscular body. You started to squirm again.

He slapped your pussy. “Stay still.”

You stilled yourself without question, though it was difficult. His fingers then rubbed at your clit, making you gasp.

“Stop teasing.. I need it, please..” you whine.

“Need what?”

“Your fingers..”

As if on command, he inserted a finger into your dripping hole. Your arched your back at the jolt of pleasure that shot through you.

He thrusted his finger in fast, making you squeal for him. Moments later, he added another finger. He loved the lewd noises coming from you.

Your hands grasped on the bedsheets. His fingers reached places yours couldn’t.

“So fucked out.. and with only my fingers.” He cooed teasingly.

You could only writhe and moan in pleasure, with the only thought in your mind being that you want to cum so badly.

Without warning, your orgasm hit you hard. A large grin spread on his pale face.

After coming down from your high, you finally noticed why Muzan was smirking so mischievously. You squirted.

“Fucking hell.. you’re gonna do that on my cock.” He groaned.

You are still catching your breath when he flips you over on your knees. Behind you, your heard the sounds of shuffling and a belt being undone.

Then, you feel him hovering over your figure. “Gonna take my cock like the whore you are, huh?”

“Yes!- just please..” you beg.

“I wanna hear you say it.”

At first, you were embarrassed to. But, he didn’t like that. So he slaps your ass harshly. “Say it or you won’t get anything.” He warns, as if his cock wasn’t aching to ruin you.

“Please fuck me.. I want it so ba-“ you were cut off by the feeling of him thrusting all the way into you, which knocked the breath out of you with the amount of force.

“See? All you needed to do was ask.” He chuckled darkly.

He was nice enough to give you a few seconds to adjust. But his patience ran out. He began fucking you at a increasingly fast rate.

The pain that hit you at the beginning soon turned into extreme pleasure. He was hitting all the right places to make you cry out.

You started to get loud, and when you noticed, you shoved your face into the pillow.

“Don’t fucking hide from me. I want to hear it. I want to hear how well I’m ruining your cunt.” He took your hair, and made into a makeshift ponytail to pull you up.

This made you arch more, making him go deeper. You could feel it kissing your cervix as he continued to fuck you at a nearly demonic pace.

It felt euphoric. You already felt that familiar knot in your stomach.

“I want you to make a mess on my cock. Can you do that, my slutty girl?” He asked, even though it wasn’t really a question it was a command.

“Mhm! I will!” You managed to say, despite the only things coming out of your mouth after that being incoherent.

He somehow knew every spot that would make you scream.

After a few more thrusts, you came, making a white ring form on the base of his cock. He seemed to enjoy that very much, as more spurts come out when he continues to rut into you.

“A-Ah wait! Too sensitive!” You squeal.

His hands go to your hips, nails digging into the flesh.

Your writhed in overstimulation. It was all too much, though you weren’t sure if you wanted him to stop or keep going.

“Give me one more.” After all that, he still wanted more? You couldn’t help but give into his demand.

He let go of your hair, but moved the hand that was previously holding it to your neck. You could feel his well-built chest on your back.

You clench on him at the pleasure you got from him restricting some of your oxygen. Hearing his grunting and groaning definitely made you feel things as well.

“Oh? You like that? What a whore you are..” He growled in your ear.

Muzan could feel himself nearing his end, though he never slowed his pace. He knew you were close too, considering how much your pussy was squeezing him.

He let go of your neck, to which your upper body dropped back on the bed. He continued his brutal assault on your cunt, making you get closer. Then you felt it again.

He thought of cumming on your back, but you felt too amazing for him to stop. So, he kept going until you both came together. You could feel his hot cum full you up and then slowly trickle out of you when he eventually pulled out.

You two take a moment to catch your breath as you collapse completely. He sits for a second beside you.

You grab at his arm to join you in laying down. He picked you up suddenly.

“M-Muzan..”

“Come on, let’s get cleaned up.”

He brings you to a bathroom and turns the water for the bath.

You guys spend the time in there in peace, just holding each other. It was a time where nothing had to be said.

The best few weeks went by as normal. This particular day, Muzan is doing his usual routine, with you joining him this time to help. C/N wasn’t awake yet, so you had some time to be in each other presence.

Then, he had called Kokushibo for a mission.

“Yes, Lord Muzan?” Kokushibo asked politely, kneeling before you two. “Ah, and hello Lady Y/N.”

Muzan would tell him the coordinates of where he needed to go. Kokushibo nods, before hesitating to leave.

He then points to you, or rather your stomach. “Oh and, congratulations, Lady Y/N and Lord Muzan.”

You and him share a look of confusion. But then you realize. He can see in the Transparent World..

“I’m.. pregnant?” You ask.

“Indeed. I hope all goes well for you. I shall take my leave then.” Kokushibo nods to Nakime, to which she sends him back.

You were caught a bit off guard, but you were happy nonetheless.

“Hm, I’m quite happy with this outcome.” Muzan states.

You hug him excitedly. He returned the hug and pulls you into a sweet kiss.

“I love you.” He says for the first time.

“I love you too, darling.” You smiled ear to ear.

——

I hope you guys enjoyed this!! So sorry it took forever 😭

Taglist: @im-togas-knife @booplsnoot @wicked-binch @x3nako @zonaasworld @kaianawr

[whatsaninterestingplacethisis]

Kisses Galore

Headcon

NHL players x Latina!reader

Synop: reader teases her s/o as she annoyingly places millions of kisses without taking it any further.

Prompt inspo: check out @/hanjibug’s work the inspiration for this work.

a/n: just cute light hearted fun 🫶

Jack Hughes

- you two are just chilling on the couch watching the tv and you suddenly surprise him.

- he’s like, :0, because you never done this before but he’s not complaining!

- he immediately smiles at the attention he’s getting and starts to laugh at you smothering him in kisses.

- he tries to watch the tv but he’s totally distracted by your sweet sayings, praising him for being the perfect boyfriend, making him flustered.

- he dismisses the tv at whole and tries to catch your lips with his (you have been deliberately missing his lips) but you guide his head away and kiss everywhere around them.

- he makes a ‘hm’ noise as you keep avoiding his lips. He puts his hand around your hip slowly inching lower to pull you closer but you move his hand away making him groan, muahaha.

Quinn Hughes

- like his brother he starts to giggle immediately. He’s not used to this affection and he’s face turns tomato red and he’s starts to feel warm under his hoodie.

- you keep at it until he’s like, “pause”, he takes off his hoodie and tries to kiss you first but you gently push his shoulders away leaving him confused as hell.

- but you pull him in again rapidly kissing him everywhere squishing his face. He enjoys it but is still confused.

- he just sits there being smothered in affection with his lips puckered out but so perplexed as to why you won’t let him kiss you lmao

Nico Hischier

- the guy finds anything you do adorable, so when you do this he’s like oh hell yeah.

- as you tease him the whole day with these surge of kisses and not a slow and genuine one he gets frustrated and bit overstimulated lmao.

- he longs for a sensual kiss so he holds your head steady and says, chill, and you chuckle at him losing it.

- but you yank your head out of his grasp and continue to kiss him to which he yells, yah! enough!

- he’s frustrated out of his mind and not going to lie his face and lips feeling a bit raw (poor guy lol)

Elias Pettersson

- he found it cute for the first minute and half and got annoyed real quick lol.

- he’s like if you’re not gonna kiss me for real don’t kiss me at all. He even turns his head from you, making you upset!

- wow I guess you don’t love my kisses anymore, you say to get a rise out of him and he just rolls his eyes and he shakes his head.

- you cuddle up next to him, making him side eye at you. You lay there for a moment before you try to sneak attack him again and he’s like nope! Jumping out his seat with his arms crossed.

- you promise to him that you’ll stop and he’s like hm, ok.

- you stop your kisses entirely, the quick and real ones. Both of you sat in the living room in your respective seats and not even a minute goes by where he whispers I didn’t say you should stop completely.

- you roll your eyes this time. Reaching over and finally kissing him like he wanted.

- you’re such a big baby, you say.

Adam Fantilli

- he could suffocate from your kisses and he would say thank you.

- he felt his body turn into putty as you kissed his nose, forehead, beard, neck, etc.

- his cheeks started to hurt from smiling as you complimented him. He even started to kiss you the exact same way.

- not expecting the reaction you wanted you stopped completely, which changed his whole mood.

- with puppy eyes he asks why’d you stop? :,( And to make the sight even more unbearable, you wore red lipstick and his face is covered in it.

- you felt incredibly guilty and continued to cover his face in lipstick. He couldn’t care less about it anyway, he just wants your lips on him again.

[heftybellybella]

Genuine question: for those of you who dated or are dating someone outside the community, how did you have the conversation with them about it and your desire to implement it into your sex life? When in your relationship did you decide to talk to them about it?

In both of my previous relationships, I kept this side of me under wraps. My first boyfriend, it was almost 2 or so years into our relationship that I even said anything. I don’t remember much about the conversation other than it was over text (yikes—but we were long distance part time) and I definitely didn’t explain it the way I wanted to, afraid he would judge me. Nothing ever really came of it.

My boyfriend after that, I never told him. He had his own body image issues but also genuinely looked down on weight gain. At the beginning of our relationship, he once made a degrading comment about me having gained weight but it was meant to be negative. So I never felt safe actually telling him about this kink.

Because of this secrecy, I’d often repress this desire until it became unbearable and I’d literally go on like a binge of watching YouTube videos of girls being stuffed and bursting out of clothes or even going on Omegle to have others partake in the kink with me (something I was never proud of since I was in a relationship but I was desperate).

It’s been a few years since I’ve been in a relationship but I’ve come to recognize that I don’t want to have to keep this secret with a future partner. It’s a part of my sexuality and honestly nothing gets me turned on faster or makes me come harder than this kink and I know I’d have a much more satisfying sex life incorporating this.

I’d be curious to hear anyone’s opinions on this, but especially people who are with individuals that you did not actually find within the community!

[junkdrawerfics]

Dandelions

Jasper Hale X Reader

Request: If it's not too much to ask, could I request a fic inspired by the song "Dandelions" by Ruth B? Not particular about plot just a lot of fluff if you don't mind. Thank you! @notafraidofstopping876

Word Count: 556

Note: I know this is pretty short, but I felt like it was a cute little scene and I didn't feel right expanding it. So I hope you like it! It was fun to work from a song!

---

“Look! A dandelion!”

Jasper has to hold back a chuckle as you drag him to the edge of the pavement. You stoop down, hand still in his, looking at the little weed in awe. It’s a tiny one, barely grown into the fuzzy little lion it will be, but you’d think it’s a stunningly beautiful flower by how excited you get. Amusement curls in the blond’s chest as he crouches down beside you.

“I love dandelions,” you hum, voice unbearably soft as you lean against him, “I don’t get why people call them weeds. They’re so cute, don’t you think?”

Jasper can’t help but agree, not because he finds the plant to be anything special, but because of you. Your emotions wash over him, a wave of warmth and wonder so intense he could drown in them. You don’t try to hide it either, or care that some students are giving the two of you strange glances. You just look at the little flower, eyes practically glowing with fondness.

You don’t pick the dandelion, though. You just kneel there, chin propped on your knees, humming contently.

“Aren’t you goin’ to make a wish, darlin’?” He asks expectantly.

You shake your head, a kind of knowing smile pulling at your lips, “Nope. I don’t need to.”

You have to bite back a wider grin at the perplexed look that flickers over Jasper’s face. You love when you can surprise the vampire, even in little things like this. He always gives you the same look, brows scrunched, eyes burning with curiosity, head tilting ever so slightly. It makes him look so human, like he hasn’t lived for hundreds of painful years, like he’s just Jasper, the nineteen year old boy who’s trying to figure out what on earth his girlfriend is doing.

“Do you want to know why?” You ask, voice not quite a whisper.

Jasper nods, eyes now narrowed, because of course he does. 

You lean in close, like what you’re about to share is top secret. The blond mirrors you. You take a dramatic pause, eyes sparkling, before finally saying the words you’d been practicing in your head since the moment you laid eyes on the flower.

“I don’t need to make a wish because they already gave me everything I ever wished for.”

It’s like lighting a match. There's a spark of surprise in his eyes before it flickers and warms into something overwhelmingly tender. 

“I wished on hundreds of dandelions for you Jasper Hale,” you finish in a whisper, just for him to hear, “I think it’s someone else’s turn to have their wish come true.”

A genuine smile slants over his lips, soft and lovely and oh, you don’t think your heart can handle it. You feel like you're melting, your pulse fluttering uncontrollably, and you know he can hear it. But Jasper doesn’t tease you like he usually would. He simply lifts your intertwined hands, lips ghosting over your knuckles. 

“You are everythin’ I never even hoped to wish for, darlin’,” Jasper murmurs.

Nevermind that you’re in Forks High parking lot. Nevermind that a dozen people are still watching the two of you with confused expressions. Some loves only come once in a lifetime, and the moment you look into Jasper’s eyes, you know that this is it. 

This is your forever.

[pendragonsclotpole]

I need to preface this post with the fact that I’ve been aware of Supernatural for as long as I’ve known what the terms fanfiction and fandom mean. It’s one of those pop culture moments that’s existed on the periphery of my mind as something really beloved and bemoaned about by people on the internet, but it’s never been something I really cared about outside of some iconic memes.

For the past four days, I’ve been watching Supernatural non-stop in my free time. I think I sat through eight episodes straight on one of those days, and I just have to say, the show is phenomenal.

I don’t know where to start, I could make a dozen of these posts about various points throughout the first two seasons and it still wouldn’t be enough. I’ve now taken a break at episode one of season three, because now that it’s a weekday I have work and can’t dedicate the time I could on the weekend.

First, Jared Padalecki’s acting is so beautiful and poignant and emotional. He really makes Sam Winchester into the bleeding heart of the whole show, and the entire time he’s on screen I worry about Sam. His portrayal of Sam’s heartbreak and desperation at Dean’s impending death after the car crash, as well as Sam’s horror at the reveal of what John told Dean before dying held a tragic desperation and denial that really embodied what the character represented in the first two seasons. Even as a hunter and with his special abilities, Sam felt like a quasi self-insert for the audience. I don’t mean that in a bad or overly tropey way, but in the way that he felt robbed of a proper childhood in favor of his father’s crusade. Sam is the angry, indignant younger sibling who never bore the brunt of responsibility like the older sibling did and it shows. In some ways, it makes him more entitled—I don’t mean that Sam does not have the right to be angry with John Winchester. He does. Fuck John Winchester. I mean entitled in the unintentional, coincidental way that your little brother or sister always demands the things you never had or rebels against the authority of the parent without ever dealing with the consequences you did as the older sibling. It reveals the veneer of freedom he had and the protection he received by virtue of his place in the Winchester Family. For me, it made him unbearably real, and this feeling of realness was made worse by the genuine naivety and innocence he keeps even as he continually gets screwed over by the demons. There’s a steadfast belief in the goodness of others within Sam that often conflicts with the sense of goodness he believes he lacks.

Sam trusts so easily, but he understands people in ways that should be antithetical to his upbringing. It took me forever to reconcile why he seemed so familiar, until I realized that Sam Winchester, for all that he was one of John Winchester’s son, had received the unconditional love of an older sibling for his entire childhood.

I don’t mean the perfect, kind, healthy love that often exists between fictional siblings. Too often I’ve watched media that makes me wonder how siblings like that even exist, or conversely, made me glad my siblings weren’t so fucked up.

I mean the kind of platonic love that exists between siblings living in the liminal space of love and hate thanks to the single fucked up connection that draws them back together continuously out of some sense of duty or commiseration or the need to be understood.

I mean the kind of love between siblings that would wither away when in a perfect world that does not stake their survival on their codependence of each other, but that in an imperfect and real world is equated to familiarity. Sam and Dean against the world—against John Winchester.

Out of all of the episodes I’ve watched in the last day and a half, perhaps the one that struck me most was episode 20, Season 2. What is and What Should Never Be. Not only was the title a bit of emotional whiplash—the juxtaposition of Should and Never lending a finality or a sense of wrongness that can’t be replicated by the words “Could Never—but we see Dean and Sam in a world where their one connection, hunting, has completely vanished and at a high cost to all the people they’ve saved, but mostly to Sam and Dean themselves. They’re connection as ride or die brothers is gone, replaced by an ostensibly better, healthier, more normal future liberated from the expectations of the rest of the world.

Without the death of Mary Winchester, Dean and Sam are no longer Dean and Sam. They’re just two people, connected by the two people that raised them, and likely to drift apart after that connection dies—frayed ends of a tapestry pulling apart and unraveling. Dean gains a mom and a normal life, but metaphorically loses a brother and a sense of purpose. Who is Dean Winchester if he’s not a hunter and Sam’s brother? And the sad thing is, neither of these are traits Dean ever chose. They are conditions foisted upon him, perhaps not intentionally, such as in the case of Sam, but ultimately placed on his soul until they tethered themselves to the very core of what being Dean Winchester is supposed to mean. The end of the episode, and Dean’s choice to return to the real world, regardless of Sam waking him up, is Dean fully giving up his dream in order to save Sam and be a hunter. The fallacy of the episode is in the choice Dean makes, which the more I think about it, feels less like a choice and more of an inevitability but one compounded by Dean’s readiness and willingness to go with it.

This is where I get to the crux of my surprise with these first early seasons of Supernatural: Dean Motherfucking Winchester.

I don’t know what I was expecting from early seasons of Supernatural, especially with the context of the later seasons. Maybe an overly cheesy, early 2000s ode to roadtrip Americana with a self-reverential take on the classic gun slinging frontiersman of the Wild West and bad supernatural CGI. Not to say it isn’t that (shout out to Sam’s comment on Dean’s particular brand of butch), but what surprised me was how real the connection between the characters was manifested on screen and how much good will the show built up in the audience. There came a point where I sided with Dean so much in the events of the show that I felt like I was riding shotgun in the impala. I saw it with every compliant “yes, sir” he gave to John, with every teasing comment he threw at Sam, and with every act of selflessness he exhibited by protecting other people. This isn’t to say that Dean is perfect. Sometimes he doesn’t take things seriously enough, or he’s willing to sacrifice people for some misguided greater good, or he’s obsessed with saving Sam even when he wouldn’t be if it were anyone else, but Dean has a conviction so many people lack. He has the capacity to love at a great cost to himself, either because he believes himself unworthy of being loved or because he’s not used to anything else.

Jensen Ackles does such a good job at this portrayal and with such a different technique than Jared Padalecki. Ackles embodies the desperate need for self-assuredness that Dean breathes, as well as the genuine fear he has of being seen. I love laughing with Dean as much as I love screaming at him for how stupid he’s being. If Sam is the self-insert, then Dean is the tragic hero, although that comparison feels like a poor facsimile for what Dean Winchester truly is because I don’t particularly feel an overwhelming sense of pity at his state or at his hinted downfall with that demon deal. If anything, I feel a sense of indignation mixed with understanding and frustration that Dean can’t catch a break but at the end of it all, is just how he prefers it.

It shouldn’t be a shock to admit that even without knowing what happens from seasons 3 to 15, I know how Supernatural ends. Just thinking about the ending makes me wonder if I should even continue it past season 5, but that’s a decision for another time.

For now, there’s something unbearably tragic in seeing Dean Winchester so close to a chance of a normal life and apple pie happiness (something he really seems to desire no matter how much he denies it) and then having to give it up, not just because it’s not real, but because he believes it should never be real.

Dean Winchester deserves better.

[faithst]

⌞ MATCHED ⌝

ᡣ𐭩 •｡୨ৎ ˚ SYNOPSIS; caught in the relentless pursuit of her academic and career goals, yn’s social life takes a backseat, prompting concern from her best friend who advocates ‘living while you’re young’. she receives a text, finding herself wrapped in the new dating program that had been spreading like wildfire in campus. the more she indulges in these new connections, she begins to question her priorities.

wc 0.9k

05 primary colour

You were unsure of what to expect—anxious about this being your first date ever and also the fact that it was at the beach. You always had an uneasy feeling about the ocean after you nearly drowned when you were five, and ever since, you never liked beaches. But today, you had to kill two birds with one stone.

The night before, you couldn’t shut your eyes without being washed over with worry. Yes, you could've asked Taerae to pick another spot, but there was also the guilt of changing it last minute, so you didn’t. You tossed and turned the whole night, eventually flopping face-down onto the pillow, groaning. The night went by quicker than expected; it was about time for you to head out and meet Taerae for the first time. You didn’t know much about him, other than the fact he could sing—just knew you were in for a real treat.

The sun was already high in the sky as you made your way to the meeting point, the heat making the sand almost unbearable to walk on. You clutched your bag tightly, the nervousness creeping back with each step closer to the ocean. The salty breeze and the sound of waves crashing against the shore didn't provide the comfort it usually did for most people; instead, it heightened your anxiety.

Spotting Taerae was easy—he stood out with his bright, cheerful demeanor and bright red shirt, waving his guitar enthusiastically in the air as soon as he saw you. His smile was infectious, dimple visibly showing, and you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of relief.

"Hey!" he called out, walking up to you. "So glad you made it! I was a bit worried about you."

You forced a smile, trying to hide your nerves. "Are we not gonna talk about the guitar?" He smiled sheepishly. “I just thought you would’ve seen me better.”

You found his excuse amusing and somehow relieving. The worried expressions left your face as you broke into a few laughs. “I think I’ll enjoy today more than I thought.”

Taerae’s eyes sparkled with excitement. "Great! I have a whole day planned out. I know the beach can be overwhelming, but I promise it'll be fun."

He led you along the shoreline, pointing out different things as you walked. The beach was bustling with activity—children building sandcastles, surfers riding the waves, and couples strolling hand in hand. Taerae seemed to know the perfect spots, guiding you to a quieter area where you could sit on some rocks and watch the waves without feeling overwhelmed.

The moment was serene, you felt yourself loosen up as the both of you sat in silence. You dipped your feet into the water, feeling the waves gently crash against them. Taerae felt a sense of accomplishment from that, subtly smiling.

As the day went on, Taerae’s warm and genuine personality began to put you at ease. He told stories that made you laugh, sang a few songs that showcased his talent, and even convinced you to sit close to the waters. His presence was reassuring, and slowly, the fear that had gripped you since childhood began to loosen its hold. The two of you strolled along the shoreline, talking about everything and nothing, and Taerae's easygoing nature made you feel more comfortable than you had expected.

You found yourself getting lost in conversation, forgetting the anxiety that had plagued you. “Hey, come here.” He spoke up, signaling you to walk towards him. You hesitantly walked across the sinking sand, squinting your eyes as the rays of sunshine laid onto your face. “You don’t like the water, right? So, let’s enjoy the sand.”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, a question mark hovering above your head as he chuckled at your reaction. He squatted, grabbing a nearby stick. “Look,” he said, before drawing a whimsical creature in the sand. “What do you think?” He tilted his head back up to you.

There was something about the way the sun shone across his skin, melting into one another as if it favored him dearly. His eyes were squinted slightly due to it.

“It looks funny,” you replied, grinning at his reaction. He frowned, with a slight pout—the image of him lathered your heart with warmth. “Here, why don’t you try?” He lent out his hand towards you.

You placed yours on top of his as he guided you down to his level, capturing a brief glimpse of the stars in his eyes. Though the sun was still high in the sky, his eyes were brighter than it’d ever be.

You and Taerae spent the day drawing in the sand, sparking out laughs every once in a while as he judged your whimsical art. Taerae had managed to make you feel safe and happy, turning what you thought would be a dreadful experience into a cherished memory.

As you both walked back along the beach, the cool evening air setting in, Taerae turned to you, his smile softer now. "Thank you for trusting me today. I know it wasn't easy for you."

You smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through you that was different from the sun’s heat. "Thank you for making it so easy."

ᡣ𐭩 •｡୨ৎ ˚ (open, comment or shoot an ask to be added) @nanadreamies @you-make-skz-stay @sayescomfortplace @whokilledyuyan @infinitehaos @xiaoquanquans @gugggu6gvai @wheatrice @honeywonuu @renjuneoo @rikibun @wonkixo @interweab

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[allinestarr]

Relentless 3/?

Max Verstappen x Fem driver Reader!

(Long time no see but heres the next Chapter as promised!. Also, I love the idea of adding a song that relates to the chapter and what mind frame I was in when I was writing it, so I will be including a song with every chapter I write from now on. Without further ado, Happy reading!...or not😈)

“Max?…”

“Hey..”

“What are you doing here?.”

“I want to talk.”

“I think you said all you needed to say last time.”

As you walked passed him to open the door, he grabbed your wrist lightly as he pleaded,

“Please, I’ll be quick. I promise.”

You wanted nothing more then to see him dragged out of your building by security, but the more you thought the more curious you were. What was so important that he would be at your front door this late at night?.

“Fine. But let’s speak inside. I don’t want to wake my neighbors.”

Unlocking the door he followed you inside. The whole time you put away your things he just stood and watched. Finally finding the silence unbearable you turned and as you were about to speak a bolt of thunder shot through the sky so loud it echoed in your apartment. Flinching slightly you closed your eyes as your heart beat as fast as the formula 1 car you drove. Nothing scared you more then storms.

Flashback

It happened when you were 10. You had just won your first Karting race and spent the whole day celebrating with your parents when on your way back home it started to rain. Soon the rain got harder and the winds faster. There was no visibility so your father didn't see the truck in front spinning towards you and before he could react it was to late. The car flipped a couple times and miraculously you weren't to hurt other then a broken arm and a few bumps and scratches. Your parents however…didn’t make it. After that your uncle took custody of you and raised you. Ever since, anytime theres a storm you always panic and think back to the time of the accident.

End of flashback

When you opened your eyes Max was staring at you. He almost looked concerned but never would you admit you were scared. People always take advantage of weakness.

"Are you going to say what you have to say?."

“Yea… first of all I wanted to apologize. I know what I said was out of line. I regretted it the moment it came out of my mouth…”

"Then why did you?"

"I was mad and.."

Another bolt of lightning interrupted him and this time, shut the power off.

"Great, no power.. Hold on let me get some light in here."

Max watched as you disappeared into your room and came back with a handful of candles setting them down throughout the kitchen and living room. Your stomach was rumbling and the food was just about cold so you decided to eat first and talk after. You set the food down on the table and looked over at Max.

“You hungry?. I always buy to much food and never eat it all.”

Max was genuinely confused. How could you offer him food and the chance to hear him out after he treated you so terribly?.

"Yea..thank you."

Once the table was set and you began eating, you finally spoke.

“So you were saying you were mad and what?”

Max wasn’t going to admit he was jealous nor that he fought with Kelly about how he talks about you all the time, so he gave you short version that it was indeed Kelly who lied and confirmed the rumors.

“Wow… I didn’t know she hated me that much. I just don’t understand why she would do it..”

“I guess she thought you were getting to much support and good media over me.” He lied.

“So what now?.”

“Kelly and I are on a break. I need time to think about our relationship. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s a liar.”

“I’m sorry to hear.. i won’t tell anyone if you’re worried I will.”

“Why?. You have every right to expose her.”

“I know, but I won’t. You’ll get dragged down along with her and that’s not fair. I will keep this to myself and I won’t tell Charles either.”

“Thank you. How’s Charles by the way?.”

“He’s really good actually!.”

“Really?” He smiled.

“Yea. Alex and Charles are back together!. I went to Italy to speak to her and clear things up. I was honest and she believed me and I convinced her to come back with me to Monaco to surprise Charles. To say he was surprised was an understatement. He literally was to stunned to speak and though he was imagining her at the door!. Im just glad they are back together.”

“You’re a really good friend, you know that?.”

You smiled but just when you were about speak a gust of wind blew the windows open. Quickly running over to the living room you locked them shut. After eating and more talking you cleared up the table throwing out the empty food containers and bringing the dirty dishes to the sink. Just as you rolled up your sleeves to wash the dishes Max put his hand on your shoulder stopping you. He was so close you could feel his breath and smell his cologne. Goosebumps spread across your body and it suddenly became hot. This was wrong on so many levels. First being he has a girlfriend and second, you’re suppose to hate him. His voice brought you back to reality as he spoke.

“Wait, I’ll wash it. It’s the least I can do.”

Turning your head to the side you studied his face for a second and it wasn’t his usual cold emotionless face, instead he smiled and it felt warm. You nodded and walked back to the living room.

Max POV

The windows burst open and he watched you stride across the room to shut them. You grabbed the plates and garbage and was about to start washing them when he stopped you. He felt you tense when he touched your shoulder and it felt like there was sparks running through his body. When you turned he felt his breath catch and a blush crept on his face. He was in deep. After washing the dishes he walked to the living room catching you staring out the window. The moon illuminated your face making you look angelic and peaceful. He wished he could be stuck in this moment forever but he knew he couldn’t so he approached you and put his hand on your shoulder making you aware he was there.

Back to Present

The sounds of waves crashing put you in a trance as you stared out the window. A hand on your shoulder broke it.

“I finished up.. I’m going to head out before it gets worse out there.. I’m staying at a hotel nearby so it’s not a long walk.”

“Why don’t you stay here for the night?… It’s dark and dangerous out there. I have a guest room.”

“No I couldn’t impose…”

“You wouldn’t be. I insist. And also, I don’t want be responsible for something happening to you and have the wrath of Christian Horner and Redbull on my hands!.” You laughed.

“Yea, probably best to avoid that.” He laughed.

You smiled and walked him over to the guest room.

“There’s a bathroom over there and I might have a spare set of clothes Lewis left over here..”, you say as you rummaged through the drawers handing him a pair of shorts and t-shirt.

He looked at you curiously before you realize why.

“Oh, he sleeps here sometimes. Not in that way though. We have sleepovers and watch movies and eat junk food.” You laughed.

He smiled and shook his head.

“Don’t tell anyone I’m wearing this, especially Christian. He would have my balls for it.” He laughed holding up the Mercedes T-shirt.

“Our secret.” You smiled.

“So.. theres a portable charger in the bedside table in case you need it for your phone. I’m down the hall if you need anything. Goodnight..”

Max watched you walk away and as you shut the door he released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. You made him feel things he hasn’t felt in a long time. He doesn’t remember the last time he genuinely laughed like he did with you. It made his decision harder. If he became friends with you, Kelly would be miserable and it wouldn’t work out. It would break P’s heart if he left and he loved her so much like as if she was his own daughter. Instead of overthinking, he decided to just change and try to fall asleep. But it sounded easier then it was when you were a couple feet away. Little did he know the same thoughts ran through your head in the other room. Max had to decide soon cause he couldn’t avoid Kelly forever and the start of the season was just around the corner.

Morning came sooner then you’d liked and the events of last night made you think questions like, “Would it be awkward?, Are you technically friends?, What should I say when I see him?…”. One things for sure, you’re not going to find out by laying down in bed all day. Getting up you quickly brushed your teeth and hair before opening the door. The guest room door was still closed so you went to the kitchen and started a fresh pot of coffee and whipped up a quick breakfast for the both of you. After setting the table you started bringing over the food and coffee when Max came out of the bedroom already changed back into his clothe.

“Good morning.” You smiled.

“Morning.”

“I made some breakfast and coffee. Help yourself.”

He smiled and sat across you filling his plate with eggs and turkey bacon before digging in. There wasn’t much conversation while you ate and when you both finished, it was time to have the talk.

“So.. I’m not gonna lie, I’m pretty confused where we go from here. Are we friends or just colleagues?. I know you’ve been dealing with a lot with Kelly and I don’t want to be the reason you guys break up or cause tension in your relationship. I’ll support whatever you decide.”

At the mention of Kelly a feeling of dread overtook Max but he shook it off to worry about later.

“Um.. I don’t want to go back to how it used to be. We’ve had this rivalry going on since our karting days and to be honest I don’t even know how it started, but I do know it’s done. I don’t know what I want to do about Kelly right now but I think we can try to be friends just… in secret till I figure it out.”

You were bit disappointed but accepted his answer.

“Ok.”

Just then Max’s phone rang and the screen revealed Kelly’s contact with a picture of Max, P and Kelly. You looked at him and nodded with a small smile. He got up and walked back to the guest room to take the call.

“Hello.”

“Hey, I haven’t heard from you in a few days. P’s asking about you and said she misses you… Also, I really want to apologize for what I did. I was just so tired of hearing about Y/n and I thought maybe you didn’t love me anymore and felt feelings for her. I know what I did was unforgivable but I promise I’ll never do it again. We’ve been together for so many years and I don’t want to just throw away this relationship. We are a family. Please just think about it. However long it takes you, I’ll wait...”

Max was as conflicted as ever. Kelly was right that they had been together for a long time and were a family but what about y/n. He couldn’t deny he had an attraction to you but was it worth losing Kelly and P to explore this new possibility?. The consequences for him wouldn’t be as bad as it would for you. You’d already been through so much with the rumors and just being a woman in formula 1 he couldn’t cause you any more pain. As much as it hurt him to not just admit his feelings to you, he had to bury his love for you. He had to protect you even if it cost his happiness.

“I guess we could try to move past this but I won’t give you another chance if this happens again. I’m in Monaco at a hotel so I’ll be home today. We’ll talk more later.”

“Ok. I love you…”

“Love you too.”

It sounded forced even in his head as he said it. When he hung up he regretted taking the call. In truth, Max had been falling out of love with Kelly for some time. He didn’t know when it happened but it did. She started showing up less to his races, decided to go to shoots and work instead of spending winter break on vacation as a family and got extremely jealous when Y/n joined the grid. The only reason he didn’t leave Kelly was because of P. He made his way back to the kitchen where you still sat at the table.

“So.. everything ok?.”

Max hesitated as his pulse quickened.

“Um.. yea. I guess so.”

You couldn’t explain why you heart dropped to your stomach and why it hurt. It made you feel guilty for hoping he would chose you over them. He was never yours to have. You mustered up a smile as you spoke.

“I’m happy for you. We’ll always be secret friends.”

Max felt sick at the word friends. He wanted to scream and say, “No I don’t want to be your friend!. I want more!. You make me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time!.”. But the words were stuck in his throat. So he just smiled. He smiled and accepted his fate.

“Yea. Secret friends…Thank you for everything. Letting me stay here and keeping the secret about Kelly. I really appreciate it. I would stay longer but I have to get back to my hotel and pack up, Kelly will be expecting me. Ill see you Bahrain in a few weeks.”

He walked to the door and you followed. He looked like he was going to say something but looked down and walked to the elevator. Before the doors closed he looked up and said your name. You said his back as the doors finally closed.

Y/n: I'm fucked 😳

Rae: what happened to, "Hi, how are you?". What's wrong???...

Y/n: Hi how are you?. Hope this message finds you well. Also, im fucked 😫

Rae: Ok, Ok. I get it, sorry. but seriously what's wrong??

Y/n: I may be in love with Max Verstappen.....🫢

—————Incoming FaceTime call Rae——————

"Whattttttttttttttttttttttt!!!!!!" Rae screamed.

"Yea"

"What do you mean yea. You can't throw this bomb at me and not elaborate. You know im a sucker for a good enemies to lovers trope but this is messed up even for me. If im not mistaken, you're like arch rivals. Y'all have hated each other since karting. He literally just crashed into you on purpose in Spain. And when I was there a few weeks ago, you looked like you wanted to kill him. Please I have to know. How????."

"Well when you put it like that I should really hate is guts.. But things have changed. He slept over last night. He actually just left."

"Girl you're about to give me a heart attack. You fucked him to!!!!!!!"

'No!!!!!"

"Then what the hell was he doing at your place!."

"After I dropped off Alex I stoped and got food and when I got home he was sitting outside my door. He wanted to talk and I told him to leave but my curiosity got the best of me and I let him come inside. He just stood there and I told him to talk or leave and it started to thunder and the lights went out. I was hungry and I didn't want to be an asshole even though I had every right to, so I offered him food."

"You broke bread with the enemy?. You have truly lost your mind."

"Rae, let me finish."

"Sorry, go on."

"Well he said it was Kelly who confirmed the rumors. She was jealous I was getting more press over him."

"That bitch!."

"Yea. But I told him I wouldn't tell anyone including Charles."

"Why?. You could finally get him back for what he's done to you through the years. He wouldn't recover from this."

"I know and that's why I won't. And that goes to you too. Don't say a peep to anyone. Including Lando. Bless him, he a great friend but he has a big mouth."

" I know.." Rae giggled.

"Am I missing something?."

"Well.. That day you went out and I got bored I went to Landos and we were flirting and one thing led to another and we fucked. And boy does he eat..."

"EWWWWWW, please stop. I don't want to hear you talk about you sex adventures with Lando."

"Sorry and I hope you're not mad at me. He's your friend and colleague."

"Im not mad and to be honest he's been nagging me about asking you out for a while now. So go for it. You guys are like made for each other. Everyone sees it. We actually had a poll going around for how long it would take for one of you to make a move and I just won $800.", you laughed.

"First, thanks. Second, you should have told me before!. I would been sleeping with him sooner and third, that's mean!. You're splitting that money with me. Its only fair for your betrayal. And stop changing the subject, get on with it."

"Ok, that's fair. When I went to wash the dishes he stoped me and put his hand on my shoulder and I could feel his breath on me and he smelled so good. I felt like my body was on fire and I looked at him and I just wanted him to kiss me so bad. Maybe even fuck me right on the counter but then I stopped myself and walked away. When he was done he came to the living room and said he was leaving but I told him to stay."

"Why?."

"Well there was a storm and it looked dangerous and I didn't want him to get hurt and be responsible for it."

"Yea, sure.."

"What do you mean sure?"

"Be honest Y/n, you wanted him there."

"Uhhhhh, ok. I wanted him to stay. I just wanted to be around him longer."

"And?."

"I took him to the guest room and gave him some of Lewis's clothe to sleep in and told him if he needed me id be across the hall and then I left."

"And then??."

"And then nothing. He stayed there all night. But I swear at some point in the middle of the night I woke up and I heard the door knob jiggle but then nothing happened. Maybe I was hallucinating. I woke up made us breakfast, he came out and we spoke. He said he didn't know what he was going to do with Kelly, break up or try to work it out but for now we would be "Secret friends"."

"What a load of bullshit. Like that's not going to blow up on you guys."

"I know Rae. But if it means we could be friends, then I would take that risk. Then Kelly called and he walked away to speak to her and I couldn't overhear anything except him saying I love you. He looked conflicted when he came out of the bedroom and I asked if everything was ok and he said it was going to be. I don't know why but my heart dropped to my stomach. I walked him out and he looked like he wanted to say something but didn't. When he got in the elevator he looked up and said my name and I said his and the doors closed. Now I can't stop thinking about him. What am I going to do!!!."

"Girl, you're fucked."

"State the obvious Rae."

"Sorry I can't help it. I don't think you're in love with him. Maybe attracted, but not love. Perhaps the solution is getting rid of that pent up sexual frustration."

"What the hell are you talking about?."

"Lets be honest here. You haven't gotten some in a while. You know how the say you have to get under guy to get over one?. That's what you got to do!."

"Gosh Rae, you're insane. I just pour my heart out and you tell me to go find someone to fuck?."

"Well..yea. Trust me, this will fix your problem."

"I mean, I guess that could be a solution."

"No, not a guess. It will!."

"Ok, ok. No need to peer pressure me further, I get it. Ill try your way. But if it doesn't work, you owe me a lifetime supply of ice cream."

"Hey, not all of us are rich Formula 1 drivers. Just give it a try. If you ever need to talk, im here."

"I know, thanks. So I guess ill be seeing you at Bahrain with Lando?."

"Well I've been texting him and he asked me to come but I just wanted to talk to you before i pursued any further with him. Now that I know you're ok with it, I suppose I will see you!."

"Great. Im glad you'll be there with me. I honesty don't know what's going to happen when I see him but I hope he won't be like the old Max."

"We will just have to wait and see. If he tries anything ill tell Lando to crash into him." Rae laughed.

"Oh and you think he would do that for you?. Lando is super loyal to Mclaren."

"Im very persuasive if you know what I mean. He loves when I do this thing when I sit on his.."

"Rae I'm literally going to hang up!!"

"Sorry!! Sorry!!. I got your back is all I meant."

"I know. But I really got to get going. Im meeting up with Mick for lunch."

"Mick Schumacher?."

"Yea."

"Oh hes cute. I spoke to him one time at the Mercedes hospitality. He's sweet and funny."

"I see where you're going and im not going there. I've know him for a while and he's like a brother and he literally works for Mercedes too. Its not going to happen."

"Keep convincing yourself but I wouldn't be surprised if he had a thing for you. He's always posting you on IG congratulating you and just random pictures of you."

"Rae, you're looking to much into it."

"Ok, whatever you say. Now go get dressed for your date."

"Its not a date. Its lunch."

"Ok, go get ready for "lunch". Call me later, I want to hear all about it."

"I don't know what's to hear about but sure. Talk to you later, Love you."

"Love you more. Byeeeee."

————————————Call ended——————————————

Getting ready you couldn't stop thinking about how things have changed. That, you couldn't deny. Was it really love or lust. One way or another you would find out soon enough. Lets just hope it won't end in tragedy.

Previously

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @sadg3 @d3kstar @runs-with-sciss0rs

[olderthannetfic]

You know what obnoxious thing I keep seeing in fandom I wish would stop? This absolute need some people seem to have for their ship to be Representation in some way. Shipping is just imagining scenarios between two characters! You don’t need it to be a Special reason or whatever? I have a ship that is popular and people make weird vague comments about how the fandom is racist because both of them are white and there are other ship options that have poc so the white ship being big is a reflection on how racist the fandom is but the thing is…

Look I’m going to be real with y’all the fandom is for the game Detroit: Become Human and let’s just say the two major black characters are basically stereotypes written by a neocon lib boomer in a story that itself is imho…let’s call it tone deaf and corny af rather than overtly racist but yeah. Black folks on twitter regularly mock this game for good reason. It is very much a boomer white man’s idea of the civil rights movement but with robots. The robots sing actual slave hymns. The main character is essentially a light-skinned Martin Luther King Jr (dubbed Markus Luthur King by blktwt lol) and the religious allegories of him as a savior figure are very on the nose. It is bad lol. It’s not that I wouldn’t want to explore the black characters but the fandom is full of young white people singing the praises of this writing while patting themselves on the back about it which is genuinely uncomfortable to be around. Just my 2 cents but the virtue signaling and insane policing around those two characters makes it unbearable to interact with their content it is deeply sanitized and you WILL get death threats if you attempt any nuance or are critical of the (kinda racist imo) way they were written in canon.

The worst part of this is that Markus has a popular ship with a character a lot of people read or interpret as a more soft or femme gay man and you know what zoomers hate? Femme gay men. So obviously this is made to be ‘problematic’ in some way because these people can’t just admit to being femmphobic/homophobic themselves.

Sometimes it’s easier to stick with the boring white characters in the background because they aren’t being closely guarded by stupid reactionary people who are used to flashing their favorite fictional poc characters as tokens of their own goodness and virtue.

--

The pinnacle of this game is that moment when the black lady lectures her son about why they need to run the robot underground railroad to Canada.

I watched some playthroughs. Unsurprisingly, I liked the buddy cops with the good development, not the cringey activism plot with too many foils and not enough development of any single relationship and not the the Women Care About Babies plot.

But if I were going to do something fannish with Markus, I'd write him having a fucked up relationship with his mentor's son post game—the surrogate son who thought the guy was great and the estranged son who knew he wasn't but who has also done a bunch of shitty stuff himself.

It's especially hilarious when tryhards think the problem is not enough people shipping Markus with North as if the slashers are going to be into 1. het and 2. yet another unnecessary traumatic sex stuff backstory for a lady.

Even worse, half the whining isn't even about that Nines fanon nonsense being more popular than Markus: it's about how Markus/Connor would be better than Hank/Connor because old people are ew.

Sorry, children, a lot of people are here to thirst for Clancy Brown and because they'll turn up for any Caves of Steel ripoff. Other Connor ships were never in the running.

[batchild9000-blog]

Arm wrestling

Preface: 

I recently watched TLOK  for the first time, and the idea for this has been floating around in my head for a hot minute. If I don’t divest my system of it, the chances of me being productive tomorrow are slim to none. o7 god speed soldier. Also I love Bolin and Opal, but it is inconvenient to consider, so we will say that the relationship ended naturally at some point after the series.

It’s hot. It’s always fucking hot in here, but tonight the unseasonable warmth makes it unbearable. Even though the sun had been down for several hours, the black star filled night was no respite. The buzzing of the city kept these alleys and hole-in-the-wall bars well above sweating temperature. It reminds you of the frantic beating of  bees' wings attempting to assassinate an unworthy queen with their body heat. You suppose you’re that queen.

The crowd you have gathered is smaller than usual, but that ought to be expected with how terrible the weather is. Nobody in their right mind would be in a place like this on a night like tonight. Another bead of sweat slides down the small pieces of hair that have fallen about your face, red from both the heat and from exertion. You take another swig from the nearly empty water skin at your side. Shit. You’ll need to refill that soon; dehydration is NOT an option. The buzzing crowd needed your attention though. Beneath the flickering yellow bulbs of the bar their eyes seem almost predatory. Shaking off the feeling you stood, plastering an arrogant smirk on your face, before addressing them. 

“So… Who is my next challenger hmm? Anyone here think they’re stronger than tough guy over there?” The man you gestured to, whom you had just beaten handily at a wagered arm wrestle, sneered, and slapped several coins onto the bar before storming out. He didn’t even finish his drink. Walking over to the abandoned pint glass (well there’s no sense in wasting it) you point to a large bearded man who had been watching the match intently. “How about you. I’m sure you could beat me! I’ll bet 20 yuans that you couldn’t!” Picking up the drink you sniff, and determining it to be palatable, throw it down. It’s extra water right? At least you tell yourself that as it burns down your esophagus. You stand there for a minute, goading the crowd to approach you. On busier nights it may only take seconds for another pompous dude to walk up, and challenge you. They often do so without seeing the previous round, and only because they believe it to be easy money. Why wouldn’t I be able to beat some unathletic, five foot nothing girl? She’s probably drunk, and overestimating herself… On this night however, your swift victory drew almost every eye in the spot, making other challengers wary. A sting shot up the tendons of your right arm. Maybe it's a bad idea to push your luck like this. Before you can really consider it, a tall young (pretty) man practically bounces toward you.

 “I’ll arm wrestle you!!!” A more genuine smile threatens to break your mask. Who is this kid? He ran up to you like a puppy. You can almost see a tail wagging behind him. Wait what? You can for sure see a tail. OH, ok, there’s a fire ferret in his shirt. Weird, but not as weird as you thought, anyways. He just looked so excited. You know it’s going to suck to break his spirit. Oh well. 

“Alright then, what’s your bet?” The man shuffles in place, rifling through his pockets for a moment before pulling out a couple yuan. Your eyebrow arches at the small wager, and you sigh. There’s no sense in wasting it. Looping back to your table, you set down ‘your’ drink on the empty next table over. Looking with resolve at the green eyed man, you place your elbow in the middle of the table, hand opened outward. Under the new lighting something about him strikes you. “Wait a minute, you’re in the movers aren’t you? I didn’t recognize you at first without the shorts!” 

“It’s true. I guess I can’t go anywhere these days without getting recognized.” the man commented to the small group that finally caught up with him. The spiky haired man to his left held his brow in one hand, and was rubbing his temples slowly. The actor looked back at you, beaming. “I’m Bolin, or as you may know me, Nuktuk, hero of the south!” The fire ferret tucked into his shirt scurried onto his shoulders as he said it, framing his head like one of the mover posters you’ve seen around. You giggled at them. They had to have practiced that. (This guy was also a pro bender at one point right? This might be a VERY bad idea.) 

“I’m Y/N, Hero! Of” you glance for a moment around you at the seedy dive, “Well its nothing too important.” Despite your better judgment you stay. Bolin grasps your hand in his. Hoping to the spirits the redness on your face hadn’t deepened because of his hand holding yours, you rattle off the challenge rules. 

“Elbows must be in contact with the table for the entire round, the loser is the first person who's hand back touches the table, and no weapons… You wouldn’t believe how many people bring weapons.” you say, shaking your head disappointedly. Crucially, ‘no bending’ has never been included in your standard rulebook. It helps to believe that what you’re doing isn’t REALLY lying, or illegal. It’s just misleading. You nod at a customer beside you, whom you had solicited previously to start the other matches. They sigh, but begrudgingly say, “Three. Two. One. START.”  You tend to start matches without any help. You never want to really hurt anyone’s pride. You just want their money. After struggling for approximately half a second though, it is clear that you are physically outmatched. This fact isn’t helped by your distraction at the prominent veins coiling up his forearm to his bulging bicep that dwarfs your own significantly. Shit. Ok, panic button. With your left arm hidden beneath the table you begin bending, little by little. The familiar burning pain coursed through your right arm as the muscle fibers stiffened, pulled taut manually by your bending. It isn’t really blood bending, that’s illegal, and it isn’t even on anyone else! All your doing is just giving yourself an edge, and it’s not blood really, you’re just kinda messing with the muscle tissue. Your, and Bolin’s hands began to rotate the opposite direction. The shock in Bolin’s face is hidden from you, as your eyes were shut, your face screwed up in agony. One thing about the pain, it made the act more realistic. You had Bolin’s hand probably three inches from the table surface when something unexpected happened. 

You stopped moving. Your surprise overcame the pain for a moment, just long enough to steal a glance at the earthbender’s face. Pure determination molded his features into a stone wall. His arm too, was like stone. No person had ever been able to stop you in your tracks like this. For a moment you were both completely still. The next moment the air was punctuated by a loud snap. You let go immediately, your bending forgotten, as a scream of shocked agony tore through you. Bolin let go, the offending arm flopping uselessly to the table. The jolt of the fracture on the hard table sent another wave of pain up through your shoulder… and that's about the last thing you remember from before you awoke here.

Bolin’s perspective: 

Bolin screamed probably as loud as you did after breaking your arm. Mako’s eyes blew out wide as he realized what happened. “What did you do?!” Makos voice piped up for the first time since arriving. Bolin, who had stood, and was now supporting your limp form was having a little bit of a  freak out. “UM.” he said. “I was just arm wrestling, and her arm… and then she passed out..” Bolin was almost at the point of tears. Mako, stood, and shook his shoulder. “Hey. Calm down, we’ll just take her to Korra, she can heal it. But what the hell? How do you just snap someones whole arm?” The last comment did not in fact, help him to calm down. Bolin pulled you into a fireman’s carry, your broken arm hanging free. As the two left the bar, unconscious you in toe. The bartender didn't even look up. Prick. 

“You broke her arm?” Korra’s voice echoed in the open courtyard of air temple island. Realizing her mistake, she switches to a harsh whisper while leading the trio to a fountain surrounded by stone benches. Her hair stuck out at odd angles, messy from sleep. “And why did you bring her here? There’s a hospital in this city for a reason, they have perfectly capable healers.” Despite her words, she pulled a cord of water from the fountain, sculpting it into a gentle glowing blob around the point of fracture. 

“Air temple island happened to be closer.” Mako replied, not mentioning that the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. Bolin had settled behind you, resting your head on his lap instead of the hard stone. He felt incredibly guilty, and it showed in every line of his face. 

“She’s going to be okay right? I’ve never seen someone just pass out like that.” Korra, sensing his concern, answered. 

She’ll be alright, honestly the fracture itself isn’t that terrible. You’ve gotten hit worse in the arena… but.” The avatar trailed off, almost confused, focusing more intently on the arm she was healing.

Your perspective:  Your eyes fluttered open, met by a set of brilliant green ones. The light of the dive didn’t do them justice. Now in the clear starlight and gentle glow, they are breathtaking. What is that glow anyways? Turning your gaze (rather reluctantly) you see your arm, coated in warm light. Is that the avatar? Shit. You finally got yourself killed with that stupid scam. At least you made it to somewhere nice in the afterlife. Or maybe you were just in the weird loopy time right before death. Bolin’s relieved voice convinced you that you were in fact not dead though. 

“She’s awake!” he exclaimed, strong hand rubbing gentle circles on your shoulder where you lay on his thighs. (ON HIS WHAT). You stuff down the jolt you felt at that realization, hoping that the avatar couldn’t feel your heart rate increasing. Oh yeah, the avatar. You sat up, the awkwardness of the moment finally hitting you. You let out a nervous chuckle. 

“Haha, it takes more than that to take me out… um. Hi. the avatar.” you glance up again at Bolin. I guess this guy really is famous. 

“Hi. Korra is fine”  her voice clipped short, you thought for a moment she must be angry, but her eyes were closed, and her brow furrowed in deep concentration. OH. You pulled your arm out of the water reflexively. 

“Oh, I really am sorry. Thank you for fixing my arm, I really appreciate it.” Your wet sleeve dripped a trail behind you as you glanced around you, stopping short as you finally realized your location. Bolin followed you up off the bench.

“You should really take it easy for a minute! You fainted, and I broke your arm! I really am sorry about that by the way. You are like REALLY strong by the way. Like crazy strong. He caught up to you, and placing a supportive hand on your upper back, tacked on another “I’m sorry for breaking your arm.” for good measure. 

“I.” you look back, Korra now standing with her arms crossed in front of her, Mako mirroring his stance (I don’t care that she doesn’t know his name, I’m not writing that in. We’ll say she knows it from pro bending, OK?). Korra broke the silence of your less than half hearted explanation. 

“Something isn’t right. The fracture healed perfectly, but there’s something else wrong with your arm. It’s almost like its filled with scar tissue. I’m surprised you can even move it!” Your eyes go wide.

 “Um.” you mutter, looking once more around at the gazebos and courtyards of air temple island for a good escape route. Not seeing one, you resign yourself to your fate. “Yeah. I guess I owe you an explanation.” you tilt your head to one side, looking once more at Bolin’s adorable, now confused, face. As you sit down once again Korra reaches for another ball of water, but you wave her off. “It’s alright.” she lets it flow back into the fountain. 

“So I run this scam. It’s really not as bad as it sounds. I only take what people are willing to throw away.” That bit is mostly for yourself. “I just take advantage of people's preconceptions! Nobody thinks that I can beat them physically, and they’re generally right, so I level the playing field.” You trail off, hesitating to admit to them what you refuse to admit to yourself. “I just bend my arm. I’ve never done it to anyone else, I don’t even know if I could.” 

Korra cuts you off, and you’re grateful. Hot tears have begun to sting behind your eyes, you raise your face to the starlight, fending them off. 

“You’re a bloodbender.” the word falls through the pit in your stomach, making your extremities blanch cold in the warm air.

“NO.” you shudder, and the tears fall silently. “I am just a person trying to make a living! I never asked for it. I never even wanted to. But it’s here, and it’s mine. So I use it.” The words are chopped, and breathy in the hot nighttime. “Look, I'm sorry. I’m sorry I misled you, I’m sorry about your money.” You step toward Bolin. Digging through your pockets for the handful of yuan he had presented you. Failing to find it you glance down, but a second later you find your face buried in soft green linen. Bolin’s arms around you are firm and unwavering. You cling to him like a mollusk on the rocks, as you begin to cry in earnest. 

“It’s ok. It’s going to be ok.” He says softly, and it breaks you. Silent sobs rack your chest. As your sin is laid bare before the starlight, and you are forgiven. (is that too dramatic, the catholic guilt is coming in clutch) You stay like that for a minute, and your breathing calms. Finally you pull back, tearstained eyes meeting his. “I know what that’s like. To do what you need to to survive. You’re going to be ok. I promise.” His assurance threatens to send you into tears again, but for now you just look away. Pulling his hand forward, tracing the lines of his palm with your fingertips, you sniff. “Thank you.” squeezing his hand in yours. “Thank you.”

And then they get married and live happily ever after the end! byeeee

hopefully I can actually be productive now.

Also I’m not going to proof read or edit this 🤷‍♀️