#i know it’s over but i’ve come way too far to give up now

[azsazz]

Dead by Dawn (Part 19)

Azriel x Cassian x Reader

Summary: Zombie!AU: It’s been a while since the end of the world.

Warnings: Blood, gore, injury, graphic depictions of violence, poly!relationship, slow burn, undead, death, sex, anal, double penetration, fingering.

Word Count: 4689

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18)

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Day 195 Part 5

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“What did you just say?” Nesta’s tone is flat, as if all of the emotion that was previously pouring from her soul miraculously disappeared as her walls slammed back up. It’s eerie, how she does that. She sounds like death incarnate, and not the undead zombie kind. Her face is stony, silver glare sharp as a blade, and the way she won’t stop staring at you makes your throat seize.

Maybe you shouldn’t have blurted the conclusion you’d come to upon examining Elain’s wounds. She’s surprisingly coherent for someone bitten by a zombie four weeks ago, and with the symptoms you noticed, her mucus changing from black in color to clear, her fever on the verge of breaking, coherent enough to form full sentences, she seems as well on the mend as she would be with any other sickness.

But how could this disease possibly work that way? Yeah, it seems too fucking simple, really, like an age-old gotchya! movie moment that’s going to kick you all in the ass later on. How could any of these creatives possibly have nailed such an ending like this? A cure for the zombie apocalypse? In the blood of a singular family? Well, as far as you can tell, anyway. Been there, done that, seen that in the cinemas three times over, but you ate it up every single time.

Now that you’re living it, you can confirm that everything about the apocalypse is not that exciting and not that cinematic.

The only sound in the room is Feyre’s soft whimpers of pain. She’s out cold, succumbed to the virus threatening to take control of her body, but she’s breathing, even if it sounds like she swallowed a harmonica. Her restless unconsciousness, at least, draws Rhys’ attention from where he’s still being stiff-armed by Cassian. You’re not angry with the way he reacted to your help…or lack thereof. You’re just as worried about Feyre as he is, as anyone in this house is, and you glance at your best friend as if you can will it into her to survive by looks alone.

It's hard to see her like this, but you hold firm to the notion that the Archeron family can defeat the odds stacked against humanity, and that she’ll pull through.

You give yourself a nod of reassurance and straighten your spine as you shift your gaze from Feyre to her oldest sister. Those piercing gray eyes are soul-sucking in their own way, but you know that Nesta is a terrified girl somewhere beneath all of that iron and nails. Not only has she almost lost one sister to a zombie bite, but now two? You can’t imagine how she’s feeling in a time like this, and you feel helpless that there isn’t anything more you can do.

“Your blood,” you answer, and are shocked by how strong your voice sounds. Even Rhys looks up from tenderly attending Feyre when you speak, stroking her damp hair from her forehead. You shake your head, continuing. “Look, I couldn’t even begin to explain the science behind my thoughts, but from what I’ve seen of Elain’s wound, it’s that the virus is no longer eating away at her. It’s like when her body finally began combatting against the bite, it just…” You trail off, chewing on your lip as you think. You begin pacing, sorting through your racing thoughts. You hardly notice Eris gently steer Nesta away from you and toward a chair, helping her lower into it. Her spine stays rigid, there is no admitting defeat in front of strangers.

“Froze,” she supplies, and a knowing look washes over her face. She’s still glaring at you with those sharp, silver eyes, but at least she isn’t looking at you like she’s actually going to slit your throat for your crazy theories.

“Right,” you agree. Feyre makes another weak noise of protest, like she’s reliving the nightmare of when she was bitten. How scared she must have been, out there alone with Rhys, searching for you, Azriel, and Cassian and a place to call your own. You should’ve never split up.

You tear your gaze from your friend, sliding it down to the arm you wrapped in gauze. You’re terrified to look, to see if the black of the virus in her veins is actively eating at her. The onyx blood polluting her veins travels from the site of the bite, winding all the way down to the tips of her fingers, the black leeching into an intricate spiderweb pattern of her veins. Slowly, carefully, you ease the sleeve of her shirt back above the wound and peek under. The release of breath you let out makes you realize how truly exhausted you are. The wound hasn’t crept any higher yet, hasn’t continued making its way toward her heart, so you take it as a good sign, for now. You’ll have someone monitor her throughout the night.

 “Whatever is in their blood is fighting back against the infection,” you explain. “I don’t know how, or if there’s anyone else out there who’s blood can do the same,”—that is a conversation for later, you note, noticing the weary glance shared between Nesta and Eris. You redirect the end of your sentence to Rhysand, who murmurs something softly in Feyre’s ear, his attention completely focused on what you’re saying. “But all we can do now is wait.”

You lean into Azriel’s side when he sidles up beside you, reading your wearied fatigue on your face. His body is solid and warm and you want to both nuzzle closer and step back, all too aware of how you might smell, the things you’ve touched today. It’s the first time you’ve felt this dirty in a long while. You’ve gotten used to the second, and third, and fourth layers of skin in the form of muck and grime. You ache to get clean.

Azriel doesn’t let you get far, sliding a hand around your waist and pulling you into his broad chest. You hope that the few layers of filth can cover the blush creeping up your neck. This still feels so new with him, the silent, stoic man who you’d figured wouldn’t dare show his rivals his weakness like this. Something must have happened while he and Cassian joined Nesta and Eris in finding your friends if he’s allowing them to see the intimacy between you two.

Public displays of affection are definitely more Cassian’s thing. Case-in-point, he’s grinning like his smile is going to split his face in two, hazel eyes sparking at the picture you and Azriel paint. It’s one that makes his cock twitch, the urge to drag the both of you somewhere private is strong.

He bounds over with a swagger that looks more like he should be striding shirtless down the beach instead of across a fancily decorated zombie shelter in the form of a man’s home that tried to kill you. You can’t take your eyes off of him, how his muscles jump with each long stride, right until he smothers the both of you in a warm embrace in which you easily accept.

“And what of Elain’s progress?” Nesta clears her throat. You open your eyes and catch Eris giving her a nudging reprimand that she ignores. That’s fine, because you don’t feel bad about being with your boyfriends, either. “She’s been like this for weeks. Borderline delusional, spouting lines like she’s a psychic. She may have been able to fight off the virus, but at what cost? Will we ever see our Elain again?”

It's the first tremble of fear you hear from the unfaltering eldest Archeron. And it’s the money question, the one that you have no more of an answer to than how their blood is stopping the infection from the bite.

You shake your head softly and Nesta’s jaw clacks as her teeth snap shut. She shoves up from the chair she’s sitting at and casts a longing look to Feyre. “Well, then. You’ve upheld your part of the bargain and brought my sister back to us, so you can stay.” It looks like it just about kills her to say it, but Eris looks proud. He even offers you a genuine smile. “We’ll take shifts monitoring her health. Until it’s your turn, you can sleep in the basement.”

You hide the instinctive shudder that spindles down your spine. You and basements don’t have a great record, but Eris’ accompanying words do sweeten the deal.

“There’s a fully stocked bathroom down there, with running water. Please, utilize it to your liking.” You don’t know if this is a polite way of telling you that you stink to the high heavens, but you don’t care. They have running water.

You almost sprint down the stairs on that promise alone, but the two men holding you close don’t let up when you try to squirm away.

Cassian grins at you, amused. You try not to pout, but you can’t wait to step under that clean water. You don’t even care if it’s warm, you just want to rid yourself of too many days of filth to count.

And the idea of showering with Cassian and Azriel…your brain almost short-circuits in your head. You’ll feel much more comfortable with their mouths on your skin if you’re freshly clean, which means that there will definitely be loads of fooling around tonight, if the exhaustion doesn’t drag you down first.

“I’ll take first watch,” Rhys says, already planting himself in a chair beside Feyre’s bad arm. He takes her hand gently in his, cradling it as he watches her face contort and sweat drip down her temples. You hurt for the both of them, wishing that there was more that you could do.

Azriel’s lips catch your temple in a long peck. You meet his gaze as he pulls away, and the look on his face tells you and Cassian to go ahead, that he’s going to speak to Rhys.

You nod and allow Cassian to guide you back into the depths of the home.

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“I don’t know how the fuck we’re supposed to sleep under the same roof as that,” Cassian shivers and you glare.

“Cassian,” you hiss, swatting his arm. He winces, rubbing his bicep and shooting you an apologetic look. “Her name is Elain, and she’s clearly still alive,” you bite, because he’s being unnecessarily rude. Yes, she looks like she looks like the mother of zombies, but she’s still a person, or half of one, anyway.

And Feyre’s currently in the same boat.

You wanted to wait for Azriel to shower, you really did, but the enticing call of the clear waters and the steam when Cassian switched the faucet on was like a siren call. There was no denying yourself any longer, and if Azriel finishes his conversation with Rhys within the next hour or two, you’re pretty sure he’ll be able to join you.

For now, you have Cassian. Honestly, you would have taken a small bucket of water and a rag and made do. You were not expecting a luxurious bath in the basement of this luxurious home, and not only is the shower humungous, but it has multiple showerheads.

Multiple.

You think that your bad luck might finally be turning around.

“Sorry,” he shrugs, sheepishly, and you tug him closer to you by his forearm because the suds dripping down his face almost slide into those big hazel eyes of his with the way that his head is turned down to stare at you apologetically. Quickly, you wipe away the soap. You don’t need to hear him whining if it gets in his eyes, you’d like to enjoy the rest of your shower.

You tut, reluctantly accepting his apology. It’s much easier to when his large hands slide around your waist and tug your body into his. The both of you have refrained from touching thus far, much too interested in the running water and scraping your bodies free of dirt, but now that you’re significantly less dirty, you allow yourself to roam your eyes across every inch of delectable skin he has on show. And you mean every single inch.

Your breath catches in your throat as your body slides against his, leaving no room between you. Your fingers find the hair at the nape of his neck where you play with it, enjoying the feeling of his body pressed against yours.

You can feel his cock filling with need. Despite the hot water beating across your back, your nipples pebble when your chests meet in a deep inhale.

“Cassian,” you breathe, fingers tightening between the strands of his hair. His eyes grow with need, the same need that’s coiling in your gut, begging for attention, for the friction pressed against your stomach.

“Yes?” He teases, but his voice is deep with need. You trail your fingers across his shoulders, unable to keep yourself from wandering. You’d press even closer if there was room to, but there isn’t, so you continue your path down his muscular arms, back up, and then trail your touch down his chest, right between your bodies where you can grip his cock.

Cassian hisses out a sharp breath as your fingers wrap around him. It’s been days since you last fooled around, and he’s never cared about cleanliness, but the fact that he can see what you look like not covered in grime and old blood…you’re fucking breath-taking.

“Touch me,” you beg softly. “I need you to touch me.”

Cassian doesn’t hesitate. His hands wind around your thighs and then he’s hoisting you up into his arms with ease. You wince, nails clawing at his shoulders while you worry about his leg but he shakes his head. He doesn’t even give you the chance to ask because his head dips low, his mouth capturing yours in a desperate kiss.

You part your lips for him, kissing him just as hotly, moaning when his tongue traces yours. You pour everything into the kiss, the emotions wearing on you from days spent locking them up. The loss of half of your group, Feyre being bitten, finding all this. It’s overwhelming in the best way, even more so when Cassian’s fingers skim across your slit, causing you to moan loudly, arching into his chest.

“Fuck,” he curses. His chest heaves against your own as he pulls away to drink in your features as he grips your hips and pulls you even harder against him. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at the friction of his cock against your soaked slit. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

“No, you,” you protest breathlessly, unsure if you’re even making any sense. It doesn’t matter right now, anyway, not with the way you’re dragging your nails down the muscle of his back, telling Cassian that you want more.

His laugh warms your body. It settles between your thighs, the ones that he looks like he wants to settle between. The door opens, stealing both of your attention.

Azriel steps through, running a hand through his dark hair. His lips are pressed in a firm line, his eyes downturned toward the ground. Whatever happened during his conversation with Rhys weighs heavily on him, you catch the flash of sadness in his eyes when he lifts them to meet yours before they fall down you and Cassian’s bodies, drinking in the way you’re entwined with each other.

And Azriel’s gaze heats. Makes you squirm in the best fucking way because you need him just as badly. You want him pressed up against your back, kissing at your neck with his fingers trailing possessively down your body and he and Cassian fight for dominance over you. As he worms his way into your ass, Cassian at your front.

You want both of them, and you want them now.

The words are stuck in your throat, but Azriel sees them. He always does, which is why he wastes no time at all shedding his clothes before entering through the glass door of the shower when you raise your hand to him.

His hazel gaze doesn’t leave yours, not even when Cassian gets back to work, growling deeply against your neck as he ravages you. You release a mewl of pleasure, one hand clamping around the back of his neck to keep him buried against your throat.

Azriel doesn’t stop under one of the many showerheads pouring water. Doesn’t pause at the warmth that drapes itself down his body in a way you could only wish to imitate with the flat of your tongue. He wears the water as well as he wears anything, and his stride doesn’t break until he reaches you.

He caresses your face with a firm hand to your jaw, guiding you right to his lips. He’s sinful with the way that he kisses, knows exactly what to do to make you fucking melt. Even Cassian pulls away to watch the both of you devour each other, and you can feel him growl lowly in his chest, pleasure spiking the temperature of the room to boiling.

You’re so dazed after Azriel’s kiss that you barely catch his words, too busy chasing the taste of his mouth to hear. “Let me wash up first, and I’ll be right here,” he explains, his fingers trailing scalding lines down your back. The tips of his fingers trail right between the crease of your cheeks, a teasing brush over your hole. You shudder with pleasure, automatically leaning further into Azriel for more. You whine when he pulls away, but he kisses you harshly before stepping away completely. “I’m filthy, sweetheart, and you’re all pretty and clean.”

“Make a mess of me, Az,” you keen as Cassian slips a thick finger into your cunt. It slides in with little resistance and you clench around his digit. The both of them threaten to overwhelm you already, and you don’t even have one of their cocks inside of you. How will you be when both of them are sheathed inside of you? “Please.”

“Fuck,” he groans, staring at you up and down. You look like a pretty doll all perched up in Cassian’s arms, ready for the taking. Azriel forces himself a step away, but his hot gaze doesn’t slip from yours. “Let me clean up while Cassian stretches you and I’ll be right there.”

You agree with a huff that shifts into a whine as Cassian teases that finger in a circle, brushing up against your sensitive spot. You hardly get to revel in the feeling before he’s moving further back, pulling out just to press the tip into your ass.

“Relax,” he murmurs against your cheek, peppering encouraging kisses to your face as he slowly works his finger inside of your rear. It’s a foreign feeling, but it doesn’t hurt. You focus on the feeling of his lips on your skin, craning your neck to find his mouth with your own as you force your muscles to relax. “That’s my girl.”

You shudder at those words, liking them all too much.

Half of your time is spent kissing the daylights out of Cassian while the other half of the time is spent ogling Azriel. The delicious curve of his body as he washes the sins of the apocalypse from his body, all so that he can revel in the sins of yours. You can’t help but watch him, the way his muscles contract and contort with his motions. You wish you were the bar of soap he drags down his abs. You swallow harshly when that bar of soap makes it to the vee of his hips and he circles his cock, cleaning himself.

When you rip your eyes away from the display, you catch his hazel ones, glittering with amusement.

You don’t think you can wait all that much longer.

“Quit teasing her, Az,” Cassian groans when you slide yourself against his cock again. It’s a lame attempt at trying to catch his tip so you can sink yourself on him, and when it doesn’t work, you find yourself reaching a hand between your bodies. You can’t wait any longer, you need something inside of you right now or you might burst, but Cassian quickly catches your wrist in his hand, drawing you away from your trophy. “She’s ready.”

You preen at his words, turning to look at Cassian eagerly. His grin is so fucking charming that it makes your heart skip in your chest and you can’t help but lift yourself up to catch his lips against yours, thanking him for being so gentle with you.

“You want to do this in here, pretty girl?” He asks, wiping a strand of hair plastered to your cheek away. His thumb strokes softly against your face, and his eyes are filled with adoration.

“Yes,” you plead. “Yes, yes, please. I want the both of you right here,” you shake your head profusely. Emotions well your eyes. You don’t think that you’ve ever been this aroused before, and not only by one man, but with his companion that has taken you so long to win over. It’s the best thing you’ve ever done and you would do it all over again if you had to.

You turn in Cassian’s arms, reaching for Azriel as he finally nears. He’s as squeaky clean as you are, and he looks utterly fucking edible, even more so when he falls easily into your kiss and plasters himself against your back, trapping you between him and Cassian.

“Please,” you whine again when his lips move from yours in favor of tracing down your skin. His fingers are hot, impatient as they glide across your body, gripping and squeezing every inch of you. Cassian’s doing much the same, and the feeling of the both of them against you is overwhelming in the best possible way.

Azriel hushes you, nipping at your earlobe. Over your shoulder, he makes eye contact with Cassian, who nods. Oh-so slowly, does Azriel take his cock in hand and tease it through your seam, notching the head of himself right against your hole.

“Do it,” you breathe, already arching backwards into him. Azriel doesn’t waste any time, and the both of you release a long, drawn out hiss as he slowly edges his cock into your ass.

“You okay?” He mutters into your ear, though he doesn’t think he could stop himself if he fucking tried. You’re too tight around his cock, if he doesn’t squeeze his eyes shut, he’s going to cum, and he hasn’t even given one full pump inside of you yet. Hell, Cassian hasn’t even worked himself inside of you yet, either. He needs to chill the fuck out.

“More than,” you groan in pleasure. Your fingers curl into the back of his thigh where you’re holding onto him for dear life. “Cass, baby, please!”

“Alright, baby,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your mouth, distracting you as he presses slowly into your cunt. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

And they’re so big. Gods, it’s like they’re fucking ripping you in half. You’ve never felt better though, being stretched by the both of their cocks almost makes the apocalypse and everything you went through worth it.

Azriel grunts at the feeling of Cassian’s cock grinding slowly into you. He can feel it through the wall of muscle that keeps him away from Cassian, and holy fuck, it’s better than anything he’s ever done before.

When Cassian comes to an agonizing stop, his hips meeting yours, there’s a stillness in the air. The three of you take a deep breath as one, and it feels like everything that has been waiting to click into place finally does.

It feels like you can finally breathe.

The three of you are attached as one, and you know that in this moment, that there is no leaving each other again. All for one, and one for all.

You love them, and they love you, even if no one is emotionally available to admit it in this very moment.

“Move,” you grit, before you take matters into your own hands.

Neither man wastes a fucking second, and you cry out loudly as they both begin jerking their hips into yours.

“Oh, my Gods,” you moan loudly, uncaring if the sounds you’re making seep through the floorboards to the floors above. You wouldn’t care if you took the mountains down with your pleas, with the noises they’re forcing out of your body as long as they keep fucking going. “Don’t stop!”

“Never,” Cassian agrees huskily, and you can hear the promise in his voice. He readjusts his hands under your ass, keeping you upright. He revels in the way your fingers drag down his muscle, how your other hand is thrown behind your head, keeping Azriel close as you kiss hungrily. Cassian watches, enjoying the view.

When you and Azriel break apart, it’s because your head is too busy falling back against his shoulder in pleasure. Azriel’s hazel eyes meet Cassian’s heady look. The both of them are sweating, beads mixing with the water that’s still pouring from the spout above. This is unlike anything either of them has experienced before, that either of them ever thought could happen. They found you, and you’ve all accepted each other. It’s a match made in fucking hell, but there’s nothing better.

Cassian can’t take it any longer. You cry out when he shifts forward, capturing Azriel’s mouth against his own. It’s a messy kiss, one where they grapple for dominance, but it’s so fucking hot that it has the pit of your stomach coiling. Their cocks drive into you even faster as they kiss, more teeth than anything, and you trip into your orgasm, gripping onto them as they continue to plunge into you.

Both men rip apart to watch your orgasm ripple over you. You’re so fucking beautiful, and you arch, preen under their heavy, hungry gazes. Fuck, you want their eyes on you always, you’ll do anything for it.

Your body tremors with pleasure, tightening around their cocks in a way that makes them release twin groans of pleasure.

“I’m not going to last,” Cassian pants, and Azriel agrees with a choked moan. That, and the way that your eyes flutter open, your face contorting with pleasure so quickly after your first orgasm, is Cassian’s undoing. He cums with a loud groan, jerking his hips into you once, twice, thrice more before he’s emptying himself inside of you.

The feeling cascades over Azriel last, and he cums, burying his head in your neck. You moan as his canines pierce your skin, harsh but not enough to break skin. You’d be worried about the feeling if you weren’t drowning in fucking pleasure, the feeling akin to what you’ve come to fear the most. Instead, you bury your fingers in his black hair to keep him in place.

“One more,” Azriel encourages softly, voice weighed down with pleasure. His hand snakes around your body and his fingers find your clit, rubbing in tight circles. Cassian groans when you tighten around them again, milking their cocks for all their worth. To help you out, Cassian dips low and sucks one of your pert nipples into his mouth.

You cum again with a scream that nearly shatters the glass shower door.

“There she is,” Cassian grunts against your wet skin, cuddling you close when you deflate into his chest. You whimper when Azriel slowly removes himself from your ass, and Cassian cradles the back of your head. “You did so well, pretty girl. So good for us.”

You can only nod, exhaustion weighing your limbs.

“Sleep,” Azriel encourages, and his hands find your body in a soothing motion as he helps clean you off. There’s a light press of lips against your cheek but you don’t know if it’s Cassian or Azriel’s doing. Maybe both. You let your fatigue carry you into a dreamless sleep, entrusting both men fully to care for you.

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DBD Taglist: @writingsbychlo @kemillyfreitas @5moremin @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @waggel36  @bionic-donut @queserasera @applepie02 @azrielsbabyg @arcadianmoonlight @pradaxstyles @illyrian-dreamerdreamer @reiincarnatiion @fuckthatfeeling @shadowsingersmate24 @poppyalice2001 @fallmyriad @sstrohma @tcris2020 @jeannineee @21stcenturytaegi @ochiolism @secretly-here @harrystylesfan2686 @i-am-infinite @lees-chaotic-brain @eternallyelvish @lilah-asteria @randombibitch @st4r-girl-official @nanisearchinginnerpeace @aemondsb1tch @chxosangxl @marigold-morelli @w0nderw0manly

[electricneonvalkyrie]

Abby notices when you’re depressed. Let’s talk about how she handles that as your partner.

These are modern Abby headcanons. The list was much longer, but I cut it down considerably to keep it from getting too long-winded. I do have a piece written for WLF Abby. If it's something you want to see, let me know.

Thanks for reading. I'm glad you're here.

• Maybe it’s a slow descent this time… little by little, losing interest in your favourite pastimes and finding it hard to discover meaning in daily life. In the midst of trying to survive, there is suddenly no room left for indulging in your hobbies.

Abby, with every random blanket and sheet she owns, constructs a blanket fort in the living room, offering a pressure-free zone where you can do nothing but feel completely safe and loved.

Super cozy, not too busy, and mega peaceful against the demands of a world that is asking far too much of you in this moment.

Does she deep-dive Youtube tutorials on how to build epic forts that probably belong in a magazine? I mean, yeah. Give her a break, alright? Complete dedication is the way this girl operates, and I’ll die on that hill. Also, Abby is a tall, sturdy girlie, and she needs to fit inside it with you. If you’re going to live in this fort together for the foreseeable future, she needs it to be good for you.

Now, if you want an enormous blanket hanging precariously off the side of the couch with a half-dead flashlight and crinkled comics shoved underneath some pillows, date Ellie. Still cute, still the thought that counts, but she’s no Abigail it’s my mission to save you Anderson.

• Abby stocks up on all your go-to snacks because she gets that it's hard to think about the basics when you're too bone-tired to move… nevermind prioritizing measly things like providing yourself sustenance. She’s got you covered.

• She refuses to let you marinate in the feeling of being a burden. She shuts that shit down fast.

“You’re my person, okay? I’m not going anywhere. End of story.”

• Abby grew up around doctors, so she'll for sure be the one to look up therapists and leave the info pinned to the fridge beneath a small magnet that is, of course, a laminated photo of the two of you on your first date. She describes it as the most important day of her life and brings it up regularly.

“You know, I’ve seen this picture a hundred times, but every time I look at it, it hits me all over again—how much that day meant to me.” Her voice dips low as she confesses something so immensely sacred to her. “The day I realized you weren’t just someone I wanted in my life. I’d been waiting for you without even knowing it. I thought I had it all figured out before you. Fuck, was I ever wrong.”

(Just know there's no rush to decide anything big when it comes to choosing a method of healing, but it's there when you're ready.)

• On your hardest days, she stays close, but she doesn’t push. She’ll busy herself with repairs around the home or folding the mountain of laundry shoved up against the wall in your bedroom.

• Abby loves to buy those cute nightlights with little animals on them or the ones that change colours, and she scatters them around the house. When you’re lost in the darkness, right?

• She serves you warm drinks in your favourite mug and nothing else. She’ll handwash it a million times a day if she must.

• Abby's phone chirps with little alarms throughout the day, reminding her to do something special for you. This is all the time, not just when you’re depressed, to be certain.

• Weighted blankets everywhere. Vehicles included.

• I don’t care what anyone says, Abby is soft as a motherfucker, okay? Is she rough around the edges? Maybe. Yes. 100%. Fine, she’s a hot mess, but will she read you poetry aloud, until her voice is hoarse, and her lips go dry? Without a doubt. There are sticks and jars of lip ointment all over the place wherever Abby resides.

Fun fact: Abby hates when her lips feel dry, even slightly. She is constantly reaching for ChapStick and all its cousins. Whenever someone tells her she should stop using her precious lip stuff because it will improve the sensory nightmare in the long run, she’ll immediately do that pouty, nose crinkle thing at them and ignore the advice without a breath.

• Abby lets you wear all her sweaters. That’s a given. But when you’re depressed, she tends to reach for yours as well. It helps her feel close to you when she’s dealing with her own inner turmoil.

• She doesn’t fuck around when she senses you’re starting to spiral. Her routines are extremely important to her, but she will put them on pause to be there for you.

Now, does she gently, lovingly, force your ass to go on walks with her to get some fresh air somewhere you feel comfortable? Yeah, she does. This might be annoying at times when you’re really struggling, and she knows it. She’ll still encourage movement in a way that is manageable for you if leaving the house is too daunting.

If that means you’re standing on her feet, arms wrapped around her neck while she sways side to side with you, so be it.

• She'll binge-watch your favorite shows and movies with you until she drains all the power in the entire city.

• Abby won't make you feel awkward if you cry. She'll just start crying, too, even if she tries so hard not to. She gets better at keeping it to a little glossy eyed moment, but sometimes your pain is her pain, and the dam just… breaks.

• Abby is an actions over words type of human. She’s a doer. Also, timing doesn’t matter much to her. She is desperate to give you a future to believe in because she is so certain that what the two of you share is everlasting.

Abby proposes to you when your hair is a mess, and you’ve been in the same pajamas for days. Fuzzy teeth? Fear not. She isn’t afraid of the hard times. Her love is an anchor. A constant.

She wants to remind you that you’ll never have to face your dark times alone.

Shadows dance on the tapestry walls of the blanket fort, illuminated by the warm, flickering lights hanging inside. Across from you, Abby lounges with her legs stretched out and her back propped against a pile of soft pillows. She’s quiet for a moment, fiddling with something in her hands.

“You know,” she begins, her voice gentle and husky, like gravel smoothed by unrelenting water. “When I was little, I used to make forts like this with my dad. We’d sit in the middle of all the chaos and just… talk about random shit. Nothing outside could touch us.”

As she glances at you, there is a small, almost shy smile playing on her lips.

“That’s what this feels like—being with you. Even when everything else seems like it’s falling apart, you’re my safe place.”

Abby leans forward, her knees brushing yours, and you realize she’s holding a small velvet box. Her confidence wavers, revealing a hint of vulnerability you rarely see.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while. About us—what we mean to each other.” Her voice cracks a little, causing her to pause and clear her throat before she continues.

“I know you’ve been feeling lost. And I know I can’t fix it, even when it kills me—even when all I want to do is make the hurting go away. But I can promise you this...”

She opens the box, the ring glimmering in the soft light, her affectionate, earnest gaze meeting yours.

"I promise you'll always have someone by your side to help you through it. No matter how dark it gets, I’ll be right here with you. For the tough days, the good ones, everything the world throws at us. Because you’re it for me. You always have been."

With each word, her voice grows softer, filled with an unmistakable tremor of emotion.

“Let me be your person forever. Let me love you, fight for you. Let me build you giant blanket forts until we’re way too fucking old to do it by ourselves—and then let me find new ways to take care of you. Because it’s all I want in this lifetime. You’re all I see. Will you marry me?”

[vhygoxo]

Twilight New Age

After inheriting her grandparents house in the Quileute reservation, La Push, Y/N moves to her home rez. Hoping to start a new life she is soon involved with what she thought were just old legends.

Paul Lahote x Reader

Romance | Fantasy | Drama | Angst

CHAPTER 3

<<CHP 2

The music was playing loud with the help of Embry’s subwoofer. Everyone was feeling the drinks as the group talked over one another. Only the older members sat around the bonfire. Consisting of Y/n, Quil, Kim, Emily, Leah, Sam, Embry, and Jared.

Leah and Embry sat beside y/n on either sides. Emily and Kim eventually found their way to their respective partners. Kim and Jared sat next to each other basically fondling one another. Emily and Sam were too absorbed with one another to even join the group conversation.

Almost an hour and a half had passed since Paul had left. Y/n still sat with her heart racing out of her chest as she barely finishing her first drink. Still nursing what was left in the can. Wondering anxiously when Paul would get back. Feelings in turmoil as she switched from feeling desperate to frustration at herself.

The three outside of y/n seemed to take no notice or care about the couples. It seemed that it was just something normal for the others. Y/n faded in and out of the conversation, thinking of him, then snapping into reality. She wondered if he’d even come back.

She was getting along with Leah, there were some qualities they shared, even some interests. Y/n was relieved to know she wasn’t as scary as she thought. She was one of the most welcoming and generous people out of the group aside Emily.

“So your grandma said you’re living all alone down at her old place?”

“Yeah just me out there at the moment”

“Seems a lot of work for one person. How are you handling it all?” Leah asked with serious concern. Y/n nervously laughed “I’m handling it so far yeah. It’s true it’s a lot of work for me but not much besides the house I have to look after. I’ll worry about the yard once the snow is fully melted.“

“Well if you ever need any help I live nearby your place. I’ll give you my number in case of anything. Or if you just want to hang. I’m sure you can handle but it’s still scary for a single girl to live alone there. It’s a pretty isolated area”

“Really? I appreciate that it’ll help. I’ve been worried about the recent wolf sightings in my area. Least I know you’re around”

Leah fell silent after they exchanged numbers. Embry she enjoyed as well but y/n found it hard to befriend men most of the time. It never lasted long with her guy friends in the past. Besides she wasn’t sure if she was wanting to just befriend him.

Other times she’d be really enjoying herself. But after feeling that intense connection earlier from Paul she wasn’t sure about much now. It didn’t help the fact that Embry and Leah kept bickering with one another quite loudly.

“So how are we feeling tonight y/n?” Embry asked catching her attention. He wore a soft smile on his face. “Great. How’s your night so far?” She asked earnestly with a smile as he leaned in closer. Her cheeks flushing at how close they were at the moment.

“Same here. You’re not much of a drinker are you” He asked looking down at her empty can. She shrugged her shoulders “Usually” she said as he scoffed. “Usually? Why not tonight? I thought you were having a great night” he asked with a worried look.

“I mean I am but—“ y/n trailed off nervously. Embry shook his head slightly. “But?” Gazing into his eyes he gave off a unique Intense energy. An unsuspecting darkness was hidden inside him. He must’ve noticed from Leah and y/n’s reaction how he was behaving. Leaning back slightly away from her as Leah got up to leave.

“I just…” Y/n trailed off trying to figure what to say. Explain that she somehow missed Paul even though they literally just met? She wasn’t sure If one could even call that an introduction.

“Look, I get that you’re not used to being around people like us. We can come off how do I put it. A bit scary? Intense? I dunno but personally I hope you have a good time here with all of us. In the meantime can I get you a new drink?” He offered which made y/n smile.

“Sure, thank you” she answered as Embry stood up. But before he could leave she pulled onto the edge of his sleeve. “I just wanna say I am having fun. I don’t wanna give off the impression I’m not. It’s just that I didn’t realize how tired I am y’know? But I’m sure a drink will help with that”

He smiled slightly at her nodding in acknowledgment. Leaving to get a drink out of the cooler for her y/n sat in thought. Her heart beat was still pounding loudly. The lingering energy settled over her and her heart.

It wasn’t as if she thought everyone was scary. They seemed interesting in a way she couldn’t describe. A certain mystery that she wanted to unravel about all of them. They seemed so close and familiar. It made the feeling of being a new person all the more obvious.

The evening was great so far, but with how much time had passed, she wondered if Paul would return. Would she even cross paths with Paul again? She wanted to rid herself of this inner conflict she was going through already.

Maybe then she could actually focus on her surroundings. She kept getting flashbacks to her dreams. Running in the woods wildly, the light of the moon, with the sounds of howls echoing the valleys. Chills ran down her back all the way across her spine.

Embry came with her new drink in hand. She kept harshly blinking as to help with her vision, fading in and out of reality, then back to her place in her dreams. As she reached for the can she saw a flash of fierce piercing grey eyes in her mind. Making her gasp in surprise she almost dropped her drink.

The loud noise of truck pipes echoed as a black truck rolled up. Instantly catching the attention of everyone as the driver slammed into park. Y/n once again felt a wave of chills go through her. She knew there was only one person it could be.

Paul had returned with Seth by his side. He wore a completely different outfit than the one had a few hours ago she noticed. Glancing up he found her and locked eyes instantly. She was frozen in place as he made his way down to the area.

Sam rose to greet the two as Paul kept his eyes on y/n. The rest of the group eventually stood along with y/n. At this point all y/n felt she could do was look away and stare into the fire. Feeling his intense look baring down into the side of her neck.

“Paul you made it” Sam said as he was almost instantly ignored. Embry stood beside y/n not bothered by his entrance. Paul was glaring at him, while y/n scanned Paul once more, looking upon his face closely.

“So” His voice was smooth but gruff. He had a slight smirk across his face standing in from of her. Y/n looked up as she breathed in regaining composure. All everyone else could do was watch and wait in anticipation.

“You’re her aren’t you?” Paul said in a tone that made her heart race. “Her?” She answered as he wore a stern expression. One that seemed like he wouldn’t let up. His intensity was something y/n had never experienced before.

“The one. Everyone has talked about you at least once a day since you came” He said making y/n lift an eyebrow, she felt he was somehow annoyed, at how much everyone was excited over her. “Yeah well that’s me. And you are?” She asked as he smiled slightly at her response.

“Paul” he said causing a short pause between the two. For both it felt like an eternity fit into a second. Y/n’s eyes trailed from his eyes down to his lips. Down to his neck and chest focusing on his collarbone. She was too busy taking in his features to realize he was also.

“I never got your name” he said as she felt the warmth on her face spreading. “My name is y/n… Not just the one” y/n bluntly corrected Paul. He smiled finally breaking the harsh exterior he held. “I’d hope not” he said as y/n felt somehow more at ease now that he was back.

The rest of the guys broke the conversation by pulling Paul to the drinks. Catching both of the two by surprise. Everyone erupting into conversation as y/n caught her breath. Separating into their respective corners.

She felt her nerves calmly settling down. As her heart beat steadied she sat down clutching her chest. Embry took notice as he joined her side once more. “Hey you okay?” He asked worried as she nodded her head.

“I’m fine it’s just a bit cold out here. Still getting used to it I guess” she tried to assure while he shook his head. Embry wore a thick fleece lined flannel jacket which he was trying to take off.

Leah instantly as she seen the sight and got up to intervene. Knowing how the situation would bode with a certain someone. Paul was already shooting deathly eye glares from his corner. Leah rushed over with a blanket, wrapped up y/n, before Embry could place his jacket on her.

Y/n flushed red as Leah wrapped not only the blanket but her arms around her. “Here” Leah said looking down at her, she could smell her scent waft past, which was a mix of rain and lavender. Embry frowned as he shuffled his jacket back on.

“Even from where I sat you could see how cold you are” Leah smiled teasing y/n who was bashful. As Leah rubbed her shoulders for warmth before sitting back beside her. “Thank you. I’m not used to the weather here just yet” y/n replied in a soft tone.

“Is it bad if I hope you don’t?” Leah said as she peered in close to y/n. Gazing at her through her thick lashes y/n felt flustered. Noticing how close the distance was to the two. Jared and Kim sat with Paul who was sitting on the edge of his seat.

“Now why would you hope for that? You wish for me to be freezing all the time?” y/n answered trying to focus. But Leah had her own intensity to her that y/n struggled to match. Leah in the other hand couldn’t but find her demeanour cute.

“Because. Then I wouldn’t be able to warm you up like this” Leah made y/n instantly blush heat spreading across her face. Leah sat with a sly but subtle smirk as she stifled a laugh. Quil on the other hand was sick of watching everyone fight over his cousin.

Everyone was acting different since she arrived he noticed. It was as if they all forgot how to act in the first place. When did everyone get so sweet? He rose from his seat eager to march right over. Paul determined to follow him but Sam whipped a glare to him.

The loud sound of a car arriving interrupted everyone. As they all shifted their heads to see who had pulled up. Y/n felt her heart drop into her gut in an awful way. Everything in her body told her she should flee. Instead her body froze stiff in place.

The men all stood up on alert before the truck could even fully park. Sensing something that y/n was somehow also reacting to. Paul whipped his head over to Quil then y/n. Embry left y/n’s side walking over to stand by Sam.

Quil marched over to y/n taking Embry’s place at her side. Y/n noticed Quil’s protective stance as everyone else stood up alert. Leah also rushed in front of y/n as if to block her from something.

Out from the truck was Jacob and the girl Renesmee. Y/n stiffened again as the two immediately locked eyes. Sam rushed up to meet with Jacob who walked with Renesmee in stride.

The two men began to talk in harsh but hush tones to each other. Renesmee kept her eyes on y/n who was trying to stray away from the girl. Looking down eager to avoid y/n felt utter chills throughout her body.

“Hey there. It’s me from the diner remember?” Renesmee beamed innocently with a bright smile. Strolling over past the two men and the rest of the group confidently over to y/n. Everyone eyed her with wild and fierce eyes shocked.

Y/n slightly gasped upon hearing her voice, seeing her coming over, she felt her self hesitate. Quil and Leah immediately closed ranks sliding close to one another. Shoulder to shoulder they blocked Renesmee from approaching further

“Just the other day was when we met. I’m sure Quil remembers. I didn’t think you’d be here what a nice surprise!” The girl continued as Quil nodded with a straight stern face. “Yes it’s good to see you too” he tried to dismiss her. But to no avail as she peered over and in between the two to look at y/n.

“Yes hi Renes—”

“Jacob” Paul called out in a serious tone as he hovered close by. Arms crossed as he showed obvious discontent. “Renesmee” Jacob called out making the girl look back concerned. In a brief moment she sighed and joined his side once more.

Y/n couldn’t help but notice everyone’s strange behaviour. How the energy shifted as soon as these two pulled up. But she wasn’t quite sure how to react given the mood so far. Kim and Jared looked at one another before they separated.

“C’mon y/n I think we should go for a quick cruise. Leah come with us. We’re almost out of drinks” Kim chimed in as y/n looked back up at Renesmee. A sad look upon her face as she gazed into the fire. Kim quickly linked arms with y/n pulling her away from the area.

“Em you too” Leah spoke in a firm tone as Emily nodded. The four left together explaining they’d be right back. Y/n didn’t know what Kim meant by saying there were hardly drinks. When there were at least two coolers full still. She understood there was something weird going on they didn’t want to say.

Whatever it was had to do with Renesmee somehow. Or at least Jacob she decided in her mind on the drive to the liquor store. Even the girls didn’t dare bring the two of them up. Leah drove since she didn’t have anything to drink.

As she parked the car y/n made the other two girls go inside. Wanting to sit alone with Leah for a moment. Y/n waited for Leah to light her cigarette. Watching as she exhaled her smoke into the air.

“So that was Renesmee and Jacob huh? I remember Jacob but I’m not sure who the girl is”

Y/n tried to make her intentions discreet. Leah took a long drag, thinking of what to say, she took a moment before answering. “I thought she said you met at the diner” y/n agreed but quickly dismissed her.

“But that was quick I barely spent a minute with her” Leah nodded slightly. “Yeah well that might be for the best” Leah answered as she took a drag. Her ash lighting up as she inhaled. She seemed so reserved y/n thought as she looked at her.

“For the best? What do you mean by that?” Y/n peered curiously. Wondering what could be so wrong about Renesmee. “I hardly know the girl either. Just that her and Jacob have been gone for like 3-4 years until now. The girl can be a bit much at times from what I remember” Leah continued.

“And Jacob? Is that his…” y/n trailed off unsure whether to say it out loud or not. Leah glanced over with a small smirk. “His what?” Leah questioned as y/n blushed. “I mean is that y’know… His girlfriend?“ Leah laughed slightly as she flicked her cigarette out the window.

“No that’s not his girlfriend. They’re close like…” she struggled to explain as y/n tried guessing. “His little sister?” She answered as Leah agreed. “Yeah… Yeah something like that…” Leah finished her cigarette putting it out. The two girls were coming out the store now with small bags.

Once they returned y/n noticed how they came with more bags of ice than anything. More so than the booze they were supposedly getting. She didn’t want to question since no one needed to black out tonight. Hopefully these boys weren’t black outs who’d fight each other when wasted.

“Good to see Jacob back isn’t it?” Kim brought up lightly, her and y/n sat in the back, as the other two sat quietly. “It is yeah…” Emily said drifting off onto something unrelated. The topic of Renesmee wasn’t brought up in the slightest. It was like she didn’t exist to these people.

Getting back to the beach Jacob and Renesmee were gone, everyone explained they just came for a bit, since Renesmee was supposedly tired. Jacob decided to bring her home instead. Explaining he won’t be able to make it back until another day.

Unadmittedly y/n was disappointed to know she was gone. There was something about her y/n felt she needed to uncover. Why does she keep haunting her dreams with her presence? It all wasn’t making much sense to her. Figuring if she got to know her maybe it’d explain somethings.

Jacob as well she surprisingly missed. She’d cross paths with him as a child growing up. Since him and Quil were always close, she had hardly recognized him, not like she knew him that well anyways. But it was a missed opportunity she was hoping to get another day.

She tried not to focus on it too much and instead focused on visiting here. Tonight would most likely not be different than the rest. Renesmee would likely be awaiting for her in her dreams. As she went to sit down on the logs with the rest Paul came towards her.

She felt nervous as he stepped close, in his hands were a warm blanket, looking up at him he wore a stern expression. “Have this” he said bluntly making her quickly take it in her arms. “It’s cold out tonight. You’ll need it to stay warm” he said very matter of fact. He smelt of firewood smoke and a faint smell of cologne.

“Oh okay…Thank you” she said softly as he handed her a drink, the kind she was drinking before, instead it was a fresh one. Before he walked away satisfied back to his seat. Wrapping herself in the blanket she couldn’t help but blush at the interaction. How thoughtful she thought as the rest watched closely.

The rest of the evening y/n spent with Kim and Emily. Despite y/n’s attempts hardly anyone spoke of Renesmee. The conversation always somehow leading back to Jacob. It bothered her since she was overly curious of the girl.

“So y/n what do you usually like doing around here? Now that you’re fully moved back?” Emily had asked y/n. “I mean there’s not much to do around here really. Well at least from what I remember” she said making everyone laugh.

“That’s quite true” Emily said as she calmed down. Y/n couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed for the comment. “I love going to the beach but it’s not warm out yet. Hiking too but again it’s so cold yet. I’m mainly at home unless I travel out to the city” she said trying to shift the focus off of her somehow.

“Well how about sometime this week you come over for dinner? I usually cook big meals and we’d love to have someone new come by. I can show you what we do for fun here” Emily was sincere and kind which y/n was glad for. “Yeah of course I’ll come” y/n said eagerly making the rest smile, except for Paul, who looked over to Sam and Emily concerned.

“Just let me know what kind of dishes you like. I can cook whatever it’s no issue. Since these guys hunt I usually have a variety of wild game” Emily insisted sweetly. Ignoring Paul’s glares and Sam’s concerns.

“Wow really? You guys hunt?” Y/n asked the rest of the men who were surprised by the sudden attention. “I mean yeah all the time” Embry said in a semi sarcastic tone that y/n caught. Y/n frowned slightly as she turned away. Soon as she did Paul elbowed Embry’s side harshly.

“I can bring by some meat to stock your freezer. I know you love elk meat” Quil chimed in making y/n perk up. “Really? I’d really appreciate that since I haven’t eaten it in so long” y/n said as Quil nodded.

“Wait a minute. I knew I recognized you! But I wasn’t sure from where. You’re the cousin that Quil took to prom right? What was that? Junior or sophomore year?” Jared exclaimed as he finally remembered. Both Quil and y/n’s face flushed with embarrassment.

“Yeah it was grade eleven I came out for the prom. It was a goodnight” y/n explained much to Quil’s objections. “Sorry I didn’t remember sooner. But damn that was bugging me for a while” Jared said relieved.

Everyone got a rise out of that as they shared stories of that night. “I remember because everyone thought she was your girlfriend. Awe man most of the guys were so jealous until they knew she was your cousin” Jared continued on.

It was starting to annoy Paul as much as Quil. “Yeah well I had the prettiest girl on my arm that night that’s all that mattered” Quil defended his self while the boys continued to tease him.

“That’s because you couldn’t get a real date” Embry started as the two broke into rough housing one another. “Fuck you, you didn’t even show up with a date, at least I did” he bickered as Embry tried choking him.

The conversation trailed off into what the guys wanted to show y/n. Once the two broke apart thanks to Paul. Which was just basically a variety of the sports they all played. She got along with Embry and Quil the most. Since they all had somewhat nerdy interests. Embry’s sarcastic humour was starting to rub off on her.

Y/n had started to notice Paul’s presence more with each passing moment. Eager to steal secret glances to look at him, but their eyes would meet each time, making her heart skip a beat. It was as if he was staring at her long before she could look at him.

It caught her off guard in some moments. Or how if she shifted her position and seat he’d find a way to sit directly across her. How he leaned in each time they spoke to one another so far. Just their few passing words was somehow enough for her to feel smitten.

The visit was cut short since Sam got a phone call. Apparently the majority of them work on as a type of security, for the community, Sam was one of the leadings officers. All eventually decided to leave and end the night.

“It’s not unusual for Sam and some of the guys to leave like this. It takes some getting used to” Emily explained as she sighed. Trying to hide her obvious disappointment at her fiancé leaving.

Y/n laid in bed that night tired and tipsy. Thinking back on what had happened. She was glad to have met everyone so far. But Paul stood out amongst the rest even against Renesmee. How intense she felt being near him, in some moments she felt her heart beating so loudly, thinking it’d run right out of her chest.

Paul made her feel things she never thought she could. Tossing and turning her mind was filled with Paul. Despite the erratic emotions she felt somehow at ease also. Each time she closed her eyes to sleep it was as if he was staring back at her.

A howl echoed in her mind as she was lulled to sleep. It was the first night she didn’t have a weird terrible dream. Instead only remembering comfort that came in waves and the howl that echoed.

Y/n finally felt refreshed and rested after what felt like forever. The weird dreams were really messing with her quality of sleep. Thankfully not much happened last night to disturb her. The only thing she couldn’t get her mind off was Paul. Somehow switching him for Renesmee in her mind.

It still freaked her out about the other day with Kim, how Renesmee was in the middle of the road, that she couldn’t explain. In all honesty it messed with her confidence driving. Honestly her confidence in general.

She seemed so alluring and captivating. Despite only spending a few moments with her. Coming off as somehow hauntingly sweet. It wasn’t so great thinking so much of her. Luckily she had the thought of Paul distracting her.

Getting ready for the day she continued with her chores. Continuing to clean and tend to the house. She gradually felt cooped up and uncomfortable, surrounded by chaotic mess, boxes and items left scattered everywhere. She texted Kim to see if she wanted to hang.

But after waiting a minute Kim didn’t respond. Unusual since she always answered quickly. Deciding to just suck it up she wanted to go to the book store. Have a day to herself of shopping and being spoiled.

A chance to get over her nerves and get out. She finished what was left of her chores. Putting on her coat she grabbed her keys out of the bowl by the door. Once last look in the mirror she headed out.

Leaving the house she turned to lock the door. Only to hear a ruffling noise coming from the trees. Whipping her head quickly to see a huge gray wolf, shocked she dropped her keys, but for a brief second she made eye contact.

It was true there were wolves around here! Would it leap and attack her she thought? But the serene energy she felt told her otherwise. Holding the eye contact before the beast turned running into the forest.

She stood for a moment in disbelief. And also just to make sure there weren’t anymore around. After realizing what just happened was real and not a dream she gathered herself. It was her first time seeing a real wolf. Picking up her keys and driving down the road.

The sight of the wolf made her wonder. In all seriousness y/n was spiritual especially with how she grew up. Wondering if this was the same wolf that plagued her dreams and thoughts. Her grandfather always said there was a power, a certain energy, to the wolf.

Overwhelmed y/n knew she needed to just focus on herself today. Everything since moving here was so weird and different so far. She just needed to do something normal and docile. Something that was familiar to her. Hopefully there wouldn’t be any wolves on her way back.

Driving she listened to music to calm her nerves. Getting into a better mindset she got herself a coffee through a local cafe, going through the drive thru, before heading to the stores.

Shopping around a few clothing boutiques she wandered around. Finding a new small store she explored. Not realizing it was an indigenous owned store. There was a wall filled with jewellery. Different types of beaded, dentillium, shell earrings and jewelry.

Coming across a stunning pair of wolf earrings that were beaded. It was more intricate and detailed than what she’d found. She was so taken by them the lady at the register even noticed.

“Those were all made by local artisans in the community. Every item bought a portion goes back to them”

“Really? Do you happen to know the name of who made these?” She asked as the lady who looked at the earrings. “Usually these have a tag with their names and contact info of the artist. But this is missing one” she showed the other earrings with tags.

“I’ll still get them if that’s alright” y/n insisted as the lady happily rang them up. The earrings were too pretty to pass up. Especially after that encounter with that gray wolf. These ones had a gray wolf with an orange sunset coloured background.

Reaching the bookstore she noticed it was also indigenous owned. Something she wasn’t used to where she lived with her parents. It made her excited since she needed more indigenous literature on her shelves.

The man at the counter greeted her as she entered. It was semi busy with people mingling around. Looking around she found a section dedicated to Quileute knowledge and history. Which immediately caught her interest as she went towards it.

Scanning through she found a book on Quileute myths and legends. It reminded her badly of her grandfather. Growing up when she’d be at their house he’d always tell stories. Passing them down from his grandfather to her and her cousins.

Most were stories of his time as a child. Before diving into myths and stories he knew about. She and Quil spent the most time with him out of the grandkids. He’d always take the time to explain what each story meant.

Skimming through she was entranced by the story she landed on. It reminded her of a certain story she had trouble remembering of his. Because he only told it maybe once in her lifetime. Reading the title of the chapter she began reading further.

“Myths and legends of the Quileute tribe

In times before the white man came to the country, the Quileute tribe have been a small but resilient people, with their own unique traditions and power. Recognized and respected by the surrounding communities as fierce warriors.

They are also recognized for their mysterious ‘gifts’ and so called ‘blessings’. Some say they have multiple types of strong magic and power. One being their connection to the wolves. Accounts from other surrounding tribes speak of their unnatural abilities and ties.

The Makah people specifically, have certain accounts, and stories of such abilities. For when encountering them in battle, the Quileute owned what was believed to be direwolves, which are now extinct to the modern world. They’d send them out to assist during battle. Many believed they raised and trained them among their own. But there’s no such evidence to support that.

The direwolves were said to be as big or even bigger than the average horse. A different breed of wolf that was uncommon in the Washington area. On the battlefield they would announce their arrival by howling. Sometimes striking so much fear into the enemy they’d flee.

The Quileute people say otherwise about the direwolves. Claiming that they themselves were the direwolves. Denying that they ever raised such beasts, hence no evidence, but there was no proof to support their original claim.

As a tribe they were used to human threats. Other men trying to conquer their tribe and land. All until the arrival of the ‘cold ones’, people that were made of hard stone, and an unnatural thirst for human blood.

Claiming that the reason they could shift into the powerful wolf, was to kill such horrific creatures, in order to best protect not only their people but humanity it self.”

It sounded like they were describing vampires y/n thought. She only had fuzzy faint memories of her grandfathers story. Surely she would’ve remembered if he mentioned talk of vampires.

The thought of them sent shivers down her spine. How could vampires even be real? The way her people described them made her feel scared. How would they even come across one, let alone many, and also be able to kill them?

Just how big did these wolves get to be? What was shifting exactly like? It was almost describing a werewolf. Intrigued by the idea y/n continued further.

“The cold ones were creatures born of the night. They are unnatural and forever ravenous. Wishing to only feed on human flesh, the Quileute describe them as cannibals, cursed to live forever for their sins of eating human flesh. They appeared as attractive and seductive. With cold solid skin that shimmered like the sun on the water.

Their ability to transform into wolves they say came from one man. Whose name was name was long forgotten. As was his bloodline, they say the last of his line, died honourably to save the tribe. He was named as the last shifter and last wolf of the tribe.

A cold one had strayed from his partner and the trail. Belonging to a group of French colonizers who were trapping. The man found the village first, coming across a band of women and children, bathing and washing by the river.

Legends say the last shifter had to sacrifice his self to save the tribe. Other say it was him and also his sons who died in battle. All the stories end the same way. Wth both of the cold ones being killed and burned to ash. Stating that the cold ones ate many women and children before the last wolf could stop him. Their bodies looked deflated, pale, and flat for they had no blood in their bodies”

An image was attached, a hand drawn depiction of the grimly scene, a woman being sucked at the neck with bodies surrounding. The cold one’s eyes looked dark and ominous. Her eyes were piercingly light as she dressed in fine furs.

“Found yourself a good book I see?” A familiar voice chimed behind y/n surprising her out of her trance. It was Renesmee who stood with a sweet smile. Giggling slightly at y/n’s scared reaction.

“Renesmee! I didn’t realize you were here” she replied as her nerves settled. “I seen you come in earlier but you looked interested in reading. I didn’t want to disturb you but I wanted to say hi. I wasn’t able to talk to you at the bonfire the other night”

“Yeah sorry about that we thought the cruise wouldn’t be so long. I was hoping to see you too”

“Jacob ended up wanting to leave. I think he was too tired to be honest. But anyways I heard from Jacob you recently moved back here. Is that true?” She asked with eyes full of wonder. Y/n couldn’t help but take notice of her ethereal beauty, how perfect her brown hair was, or how her skin glistened under the sunshine.

“I mean yeah but I’m not new to the area—”

“Great to hear. That means I can show you around. Y’know I’ve read this book before and it’s a great read” she said as y/n clasped the book close. “Y-Yeah it has been so far. I think I’m going to buy it actually. I want to read it more” she said her hands covering the front of the book.

“Wait… I’m not sure this is the same one I’ve read actually. Can I check the cover?” Renesmee asked as she reached to flip the book over. “Sure—“ y/n replied before her hands touched her, as they did the air from her lungs sucked out, and her field view changed before her.

She was stuck in the middle of the forest again. The same exact spot she had been stuck in the past. Another flash and the sky was no longer night but day. With a blinding sun that shined down on her.

The next was the moon flashing in her face. With the same intensity as the sun somehow. The sound of heavy footsteps on soft earth intensely struck the ground. Shocked and scared she couldn’t move not even a budge.

All she could see now, was a pair of eyes, glaring at her in the dark. Peering out through the darkness as it came forward. Gray eyes revealed to be the gray wolf once more. As he stepped out of the shadows to reveal itself.

Renesmee’s grip loosened as y/n stumbled backwards. Air rushing back into her lungs. Dropping the book to the floor suddenly. A cold sweat was running down her back as she looked up at her. Renesmee’s eyes fixed onto her neck, before looking back up at y/n, as she smiled Innocently.

“What’s wrong? I don’t want the book *that* bad. I said I read it already *remember*?” she said with such a nonchalant tone. Y/n felt her stomach instantly turn into a big huge knot. Something was *off* and she *needed* to leave.

Picking up the book Renesmee helped her with it. “Here. You have to be careful“ she said in a sweeter and much softer tone. But not enough for y/n to feel even slightly normal. Rushing to get up she felt her gut turning worser by the second. Her hand somehow brushed against hers once more.

Flashes of red filled her vision, similar to a strobe light, it made her stumble down again. “Are you sure you’re fine? You keep stumbling all over the store here” she said clutching y/n’s arm. Upon her touch she writhed away from Renesmee’s grip.

Turning around immediately she slapped a large money bill on the counter. “Thank you?” The man behind the register said as she practically ran out. Renesmee stood quiet as she watched her take off.

In a panic she ran down to her car. Only to be met with something in front of her stiff as concrete. “Woah there. You okay?” A voice said making her look up, it was Jacob his self, he held her shoulders as he helped her steady.

“Y/n?”

“Jacob?”

She asked bewildered by the encounter. “Yeah I’m okay you just surprised me” y/n replied as he smiled. “Me too. You came out pretty quickly. Like a bat out of hell. You okay?—“ he tried asking again but it only triggered her flashbacks to the vision. She could see sharp teeth snapping down, the sound of growling and snarling, as the wolves ran beside each other.

Y/n’s face drained of its colour turning her pale. Jacob noticed as he furrowed his eyebrows. “What’s wrong?” He asked with a genuine concern. His face somehow reminded her of the weird visions she was plagued with.

Renesmee stepped out of the book store. Jacob turned and greeted her like normal. But y/n fled down the path way with no shame or warning. More focused on her and her own sanity.

Y/n hopped into her car and sped home. Hoping and praying she wouldn’t come across Renesmee on the road. She so much as didn’t even want to think or utter her name. For fear of somehow summoning her.

Her grip was tight on y/n’s hand but she felt warm. At least she was warm instead of having an unnatural coldness. It actually surprised y/n she was warm, but it didn’t rid her of her suspicions, there was something about Renesmee that was different.

If she was a cold one, like she suspected, what could she even do? They were cannibals, literal blood sucking monsters, how could one defend themselves? They had to be just some stories elders told to keep kids inside.

Ridding the thought of her she hustled back home. It was raining outside, not as much as usual, it was more of a spit than anything. The smell was calming her down somewhat. Not as much as she wanted or hoped really.

There was no way she could think otherwise if she wanted to feel safe. That girl Renesmee just had to be a sweet normal human. And something else was plaguing the mind of y/n. For her to even experience something as this so often.

How far would these delusions go? It wasn’t as if she was this fascinated by such fantasy’s. Vampires never interested her much. Werewolves also she never paid attention to any fiction such as that. It was a big question on why y/n kept having such delusions.

Flashes of what she experienced kept coming to her. How Renesmee’s eyes although sweet were filled with a never ending darkness. Last she seen her eyes they were so dark. But this time they were a lighter color, a brown almost auburn, how could she never notice?

Her hands were practically shaking as she gripped the steering wheel. Driving fast she kept her eyes on the road. As the rain continued to pour down onto the ground. She could see something following her in the corner of her eye. But she dared not to look away from the road.

Although y/n wanted desperately to go back home, to her safe space, in her gut she knew it was a bad idea. Since Kim didn’t want to answer she knew who she could rely upon. Her grandmother Molly, she was a great comfort to her, anytime she was in need she answered. Even now she answered her obscure call.

“Gramma? Are you home?” She called out with clear desperation in her voice. “Yes. Whats wrong?” Was all she said to make y/n melt into a child again. “Nothing… I’m just missing you and wondering if I would be able to sleep over?” Although y/n was trying to be discreet Grandma Molly could sense her true intentions.

“I’ll be home my girl. Drive safe it’s raining out” Grandma Molly knew she’d arrive sooner than later. Y/n needed to grab clothes but she dreaded going back home. Pulling up to her driveway she sat in the car for a moment.

“Shit” y/n said out loud as she groaned. The anxious feeling churning deep in her. It’ll have to be quick but simple in and out. Stepping out she rushed to the door, still worried about the wolf from earlier, almost dropping her keys out of fear.

Getting inside the house it was quiet and undisturbed. Taking a second to pause and wait. A wave of peace fell over her in the moment. Debating if she wanted to stay and just visit her grandmother. Come home sometime later this evening. It’d be great if she could truly relax.

All until she could hear creaking floorboards in the upstairs hallway. The sound of weight shifting around the floors. A sinking feeling made her stop in her tracks.

‘What the fuck?’ She thought frozen in place again, a familiar eerie feeling washed right over her, she knew it wasn’t right to come here. A moment passed as she awaited for something she didn’t know.

Pulling her courage from somewhere in her. She grabbed the baseball bat she left hidden by the door. Y/n marched right up the stairs into her room ready to face whatever it may be. She wasn’t dumb enough to not have a weapon nearby. Especially as a young woman living alone.

Her bedroom window was open slightly with watery tracks everywhere. Nothing was taken or trashed but someone was inside. Only her bedroom was on the second floor. Who knew how to climb and then open her window?

After checking the house top to bottom with no intruder in sight. Y/n packed up a bag to go and see her grandmother. Locking every single window and door in sight before leaving.

Arriving at the house she felt relieved. This was the familiarity she has been searching for. Since y/n moved in the house her grandmother moved in with her sister Melissa. Everyone in the family called her “grandma Milly”. Who was Kim’s direct grandmother, since they were getting older, they decided it best to look after one another.

“My girl” Molly cooed as she hugged y/n tightly. Sinking into her arms she felt the comfort she needed. “What’s wrong?” She immediately asked y/n once they both let go. Shaking her head profusely “Nothings wrong. I just miss you is all” y/n answered.

Grandma Molly looked at her searching for dishonesty. Y/n didn’t feel it’d be appropriate to tell everything so far. She would eventually but for now she just wanted peace. As if she knew grandma Molly didn’t push any further. Instead bringing y/n inside for dinner.

“How are you settling into the house? Are you feeding yourself? You look pale” she fussed over y/n at the table. “I’ve been feeding myself yes—“ she tried to say before grandma Milly cut her off. “Are you sure? You look thinner than last I seen you”

“I’ve been adjusting to living alone. I don’t think I’ve withered away that much” y/n joked but the two didn’t let up. “Hm” was all Milly said as they finished dinner. Eventually she cleared everyone’s dishes. The two could sense something was up with y/n very quickly.

Settling in the living room they spent the evening watching TV together. Checking her phone she wondered about Kim. It was unusual for her to not answer. Chalking it up to her being busy, she wished she would answer, she needed her support.

“I’m going to go rest. My meds are kicking in” Milly said as she left the room. Bidding goodnight to the two girls. Y/n continued to watch tv as her grandma looked over at her with worry.

“My girl are you sure you’re okay? I don’t mind a surprise visit like this. It’s just… You seemed panicked earlier when you called” Grandma Molly pushed her. Seeing it was just the two of them alone y/n sighed in defeat.

“I mean I am fine. It’s just ever since I got here I just… I don’t know” y/n struggled to find the words. “I love the house. I’m very grateful for everything you’ve given me so far. So I don’t want come off as rude”

“I knew it! The house is too much work for you isn’t it? I was worried this would happen but I figured you wanted your own space. Quil was so adamant you get the house when we talked about it—“

“No no that’s not the issue here. The housework I can handle” y/n explained making her grandma sigh in relief. “It’s just ever since I moved in… a lot of stuff has been bothering me—“

“Oh I know you loved your grandfather. It’s a hard loss for everyone and a big adjustment—“

“I mean like actually bothering me” y/n almost spat out making Molly sit up. “What do you mean? I thought I told you to smudge the house after I left. You know it’s important especially since we cleared everything from there. You don’t want something else moving in” Milly explained as y/n sighed deeply. Figuring out the best way to explain.

“I did smudge with sweet grass even. What I’m trying to get at is my dreams have been crazy lately. And I can’t help but feel like they’re trying to tell me something. Show me something anyways…” y/n trailed off unsure on what her grandmother would say.

Molly sat quiet for a moment as she looked at y/n. “What did you see?” She asked as y/n looked up into her eyes. “The first couple of times I’m lost in the woods. I’m being chased or else I’m running to find something. I’m not sure really“

“Oh I��m sure your dreams are just reflecting how you feel here. I’m sure you’re feeling a little overwhelmed by everything” Molly tried to understand. But all y/n did was shake her head.

“I seen grandpa in one of them” y/n said making the expression on Mollys face drop completely. “What happened” she asked with quite a serious tone. “It was… strange to say the least” y/n shivered thinking back on it. Molly awaited for y/n to continue.

“Each time in my dream I’m in the same spot in the forest. Confused and lost. All of a sudden, in this one dream, someone had asked me if I was lost. I looked up and it was grandpa. He laughed, went behind a tree, he came out as his younger self” hearing this made grandma Molly gasp. And tear up at the thought as she covered her mouth.

“Aw well that tells me he’s doing well. Don’t you think so?” She asked y/n who sat quietly. A solemn look on her face told Molly otherwise. Raising her eyebrows at her granddaughter y/n gave in.

“When he left he… he was… I swear he turned into a wolf and ran into the tree line” y/n finally confessed. Y/n expected her gramdma to chalk it up to some crazy dream. That stress had been affecting her and her sleep so of course she’d dream crazy.

Instead grandma Molly sat quiet with a hand on her mouth. Staring off into the distance in deep thought. “Gramma?” She peered curious thinking it’d snap her back to the conversation.

“Have you seen Kim lately? Did she or anyone else come talk to you yet?” She asked making y/n confused. “No she didn’t answer me. What do you mean talk to me yet?” Molly sat up and held y/n’s hand in comfort.

“You must be tired. What with all your stress. For me the dream is just grandfather coming to visit you. You know how he’s always been attached to wolves and their spirit. Rest easy and have some peace of mind” Was all Molly said as she basically dismissed the conversation. Feeling like there was a blockage y/n settled with just going to bed.

There was no dream or nightmare that night as well. Maybe it really was just stress y/n thought. Eating breakfast with her two grandmothers they discussed their day ahead.

“Me and Milly here have to attend a meeting today. You’re welcome to stay here if you want while we’re gone. Fridge is stocked and the TV will be free”

Y/n knew her grandma Molly was a councillor. But grandma Milly wasn’t, she questioned what meeting they would have together, but instead of being too nosey she let it slide. She wasn’t quite sure what grandma Milly did to be honest. Besides bingo and chain smoke everywhere she went.

“Yep you’re lucky my show isn’t on today” grandma Milly teased her making the two chuckle. “No that’s okay grandma I think I ought to head home. There’s some things I left unfinished” y/n picked her fork around her breakfast. She wondered about Kim for some reason.

It was quite unusual for her not to answer y/n, especially since it’s been a whole day later, surely she wasn’t upset at her? Or even worse she was in some danger? It seemed ridiculous but y/n knew Kim was never not on her phone. The ignorance from Kim seemed deliberate.

“Well you’re always welcome to stay again anytime. Me and this girl aren’t usually this busy most days”

“I’m glad I came, I really needed this visit, thank you guys” y/n smiled at the two. Finishing up their breakfast the three departed on their separate ways. Y/n wasn’t lying about having a great visit. It’s just she left with more questions than answers.

Would nothing explain these crazy delusions she’d been having? Perhaps she needed to just focus on self care, cut out her stress somehow, to make it all stop. But it all didn’t explain the possible intruder in her home.

It wasn’t like she just dreamt up the wet muddy tracks in her room. But really what could she do about it? She lived alone and it wasn’t like her grandmother could do anything. She’d tell Quil but what would he even say or do? Most likely just call her crazy and be bothered she made him check the house.

Getting back to the house she sat in the car for a moment. Her beloved childhood home was starting to feel different. She knew the energy would change once it was just her in the house. She didn’t want to think it, but sadly, it was starting to feel unsafe.

With a deep sigh she stepped into the house. Pausing for a moment to hear anything. Doing a quick perimeter check there was no one around. In moments such as this she wish she had someone to rely on.

That evening she did what she could to cheer herself up. Deciding to clean up her room and area. Before doing a complete pampering routine, a hot bubble bath, fit with a sheet mask to keep her skin soft. Doing what she could to also make herself feel comfortable being here alone.

Watching reruns of her favourite tv shows, she kept all the TVs in the house on, as a way to fill the eerie silence. Cooking her favourite foods she settled in somewhat. Praying that her windows would stay shut tonight.

As she slept she had a very lucid dream that freaked her out. It started out with her in laying bed like usual. Opening her eyes a few times to her room like normal. Until in the corner stood a dark shadow, a woman with long hair stood, just out of sight. But y/n knew she was there watching.

As her vision faded in and out the woman eventually stepped out. The light from the window shined down on her. Only to reveal the one and only Renesmee, her eyes dark with a straight expression, her mouth slowly started to open wide.

Revealing small but sharp fangs it made y/n startle out of her sleep. As she sat up Renesmee wasn’t in the room as she thought. Her window wasn’t open and there weren’t any tracks on the floor. But her heart was racing more than ever.

It was five am and y/n couldn’t go back to sleep for the life of her. She was way too freaked out to even think of lying down. Instead she hyped her self up with many cups of coffee. She did message Quil to try and hang but no answer from that guy either.

She was already not trying to overthink about the bonfire. But now she was starting to wonder did she mess up somehow? Or maybe their friends didn’t really care about her? She wasn’t sure but it was unusual for those two to ignore her.

Everything so far was making her feel so isolated. Was it truly a good idea to come back to the rez? This was what she was trying to escape, being alone in isolation, but it seems it what’s she’s walked into. Maybe even a worser case now with the delusions.

All day she spent it on the couch, the heavy rain seemed to match her mood, as she anxiously awaited nightfall. What would await for her when she fell asleep? She didn’t even want to fathom it. Listening to the rain pour down onto the house it calmed her slightly.

Watching the tv she began to slowly drift off to sleep. Feeling somehow safer on the couch with the dim light of the grey clouds. Eyes and body heavy as her eyes fluttered shut. It’d be best to get sleep while she could. Hoping not to see Renesmee once more.

Suddenly someone was knocking and pounding on her door. In a very erratic and panicked manner it shocked her. Sitting up she checked her phone but there were no messages. No one called her either it confused her who would be there.

“Please! Open up it’s me!” The girl begged as y/n recognized the voice. Rushing to open the door to reveal a rain soaked Kim. Standing there with tears streaming as she sobbed hard. “Kim?” y/n asked worried and concerned. “I need you” Kim sobbed out as she grabbed y/n’s shoulders.

Chapter 3 is finished 🤍 Finally settled into my home after moving in a short while ago. Got caught up with writing more. I wanted to write more insight into an outsiders perspective. How shifters and vampires would look like to ordinary people. Especially the tribe’s over all insight. The next few chapters will be interesting🤍

[edge-oftheworld]

when I was in high school there was a tendency whenever there was an attractive boy to simply fan over him. in a way that talked over everything he might say for himself and created a narrative that completely ignored, the fact in some cases, that he was really struggling—or if he was struggling, to pin all the blame on the girl he’s dating and completely ignore the thousands of other factors (no it can’t be mental illness or unaccommodated disability or systemic abuse or exploitation and if he is in an abusive relationship we won’t ever consider the factors that put him at risk for that)

and I’m not saying this fandom is like that. I get the need for privacy around some things and how in public conversations sometimes it’s a lot more respectful to stick to the positives (everyone who does that, I admire you) or even the struggles that are talked about publicly, show respect by not reading too far into them. there’s a time and place for that. but sometimes I feel like our only options are shitty and ableist gossip or totally ignoring the systemic and structural issues we know exist in something like the music industry until someone dies and then we’re looking for someone to blame. friends, there is a point where the respectful thing is to listen to what someone says and come together to make things better. and you can learn how to have that conversation respectfully. please do

[luveline]

𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Spencer gets a bad bout of amnesia. Or, your boyfriend forgets he’s your boyfriend, but he still has a crush on you. [3k]

c: fem, bombshell!reader, head injury, hospitals, amnesia, fluff, spencer can’t believe he bagged you, requested here 

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆

Spencer wakes to an empty room. 

He lays on a pillow too flat, neck twinging, the back of his eyes throbbing when he moves.

He struggles to breathe through his nose and lets his mouth open for a few achy breaths, his mouth dry like he’s been sucking on cotton balls. 

Spencer’s alarmed, without a clue what it is he’s done. He wonders where Gideon is, if the older man has come to see him yet. He hopes somebody told his mom he’s okay. 

Maybe Hotch will come. He and Hotch have grown closer while Gideon was on his mandated recovery time; Gideon spends far less time in the office, sticking to lectures, seminars and consults, while Hotch, Morgan and Spencer handle the away cases. Spencer might go as far as to say Hotch likes him. And Morgan can tolerate him now, less grudging when Spencer offers a random fact or statistic to further the case. 

A stab of pain at the back of his head makes itself known sharply.

Spencer doesn’t want to move, but he needs to assess things. He frowns at his arms, naked as they are. His silver watch is missing. A t-shirt that he doesn’t remember buying stretches over his chest. What state are they in, and who dressed him? 

He’s scowling at the window with it’s wide-open blinds and all the sun when the door opens. 

You’re looking at the bags on your arm as you come in. Spencer startles in his blankets —what are you doing here? Agent L/N, Morgan’s friend and a candidate for the open position on the BAU team. You’re from the Sex Crimes Unit, like Greenaway. 

Spencer flusters every time he sees you, not just because of how kind you’d been the first time you met, or even the easy flirtation you send his way when you cross paths. It’s because you’re the prettiest woman he’s ever seen. He’s not talking about the golden ratio or statistical beauty, you’re just stunning. You stop him in his tracks whenever you steal into the office. It’s better when you notice he’s awake and light up like he’s the winning numbers for tonight’s lottery pull. Everything about you illuminates. 

“Hey, babe!” you say, not not yelling as you drop your bags in the seat by the bed and reach for him.

He doesn’t think to move away as you take his face into your hands.

“I’m so glad you’re finally awake, you almost slept for the full twenty four hours.” Your hands are soft. They smell like neroli. When you stroke his cheek and lean down to give him a chaste peck, he almost passes out there and then. “It's a good thing, obviously,” you say, and then kiss him again distractedly. Spencer squeezes his eyes closed. “You heal more when you’re asleep. Or so I’ve heard.” 

You pull away, Spencer blinking for his life. You have such a nice mouth, but Spencer’s never thought about what it might feel like on his. He doesn’t have the audacity: in what world would you ever kiss him? That’s the joke, right, when you flirt with him in the office?

“How are you feeling?” you ask, losing some of your pep. “How’s your head, handsome? You know, there are easier ways to get a haircut.” 

“They cut my hair?” he croaks. 

“Shaved it at the back to stitch you up. Not much, don’t worry. They were pushing for a buzz cut but I put my foot down on that one,” you joke. You nudge his legs aside without worrying about sitting on him as you get comfortable. “It’s not much. You can’t tell.”

“I…” 

“You feeling okay?” you ask softly. Your nice mouth purses. Your eyebrows pinch. They’re cute eyebrows. 

“You look different than the last time I saw you.” 

He doesn’t mean to say it aloud. He’s noticing things now. You’re wearing less powder under your eyes than you used to. You seem to have gained a little weight, and you look good. You didn’t look bad before, but this is different. Your hair isn’t too different, nor your brows, but you’ve begun lining your lips in a new way. Your blush is a subtler hue. Spencer doesn’t claim to know everything about you, but he can say that you look neatly the same each time you visit. Why the sudden change?

“It’s hard to sleep when your favourite person in the world gets his head cut open,” you say, taking his hand where he’d left it loose in the blankets. 

Your fingers slip into his with ease. 

“Can I tell you something?” he asks, attempting to swallow his nerves. 

“Of course you can.” 

He licks his lips. “Uh, I think I’m confused. I don’t– I don’t remember what happened, and…” 

“Oh, right. They told me this might happen.” You draw yourself up with a breath. He’s fascinated by the movement, an air of heat around him as you begin rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb. “You got hit in the back of the head with a cinder block, honey. Went down like a lead balloon.” You turn your face to show your cheek. “We’re even now on good scares, yeah?” 

You have a scar on your face he’d missed, carefully concealed but yet not invisible. Your hand in his feels so alien he holds it wrong, fingers twined but palms apart. 

“What happened to you?” he asks. 

Your brow crinkles. You go very still. “My cheek?” you ask. 

“What…” 

“Spencer, what’s the last thing you can remember, honey?” you ask, all the horror in the world to be found in your eyes. 

“Uh…” He feels sick to his stomach.

“Spencer?” 

Without having to be told, you slip off of the bed with two taps of your shoes and reach for the bedpan, thrusting it into his lap. 

His mouth fills with spit. “I’m fine,” he says. 

“No, I don’t think so. Let me get a doctor.” 

“Wait,” he says, clutching the bedpan and pushing his wave of nausea as far down as he can. “Please don’t go.” 

“My face was months ago, honey. I got hit in the face with a hammer by a UnSub, you don’t remember?” you ask incredulously. 

“Why do you keep calling me honey?” he asks. He knows the answer, but it’s not computing. 

Your face drains of any happiness. “I’m going to get a doctor,” you say, shoulders rigidly tight as you exit the room, leaving Spencer in your wake wishing he’d just pretended he knew who you were, just until you kissed him again. 

—

“And he really can’t remember you at all?” Morgan asks. 

You’re a little less startled than you had been, and you’re trying not to punish poor Spencer, but realising your boyfriend forgot years of flirting, and yearning, and friendship —years of kissing in secret and otherwise, years of holding hands, and staying at each other’s places to get that extra time together, even if it was just getting to sleep in the same bed between cases— was a slap. 

“He remembers me,” you say, leg crossed over the other, arm over the railing of Spencer’s bed to hold his hand. “He just doesn’t remember a thing after Gideon came back, after Boston.” 

“I remember when you had hair,” Spencer says to Derek. 

Derek glares at him, “This Spencer doesn’t get to sass me.” 

“But I do eventually?” 

“How come you’re holding hands if he doesn’t know who you are?” Derek asks pointedly. 

You shrug. “We talked about it, didn’t we?” you ask Spencer, who perks up every time you talk, which isn’t unlike your usual Spencer. Whenever he catches himself doing it he flusters. Every time you call him baby he loses his mind. “He doesn’t remember me, but he wants to. And I remember him.” 

“This must be pretty weird for you, kid,” Derek says. 

“Sort of,” Spencer says. 

It’s funny. Now you know Spencer thinks he’s twenty three again, you can’t not notice his shyness and his awkward tries at casualness. You’d forgotten what he was like back then. 

“Wait, does that mean you don’t remember Emily?” Derek asks. 

Spencer frowns. “Uh, no?” 

You sit up in your chair. “Emily’s one of your best friends, honey. She joined the BAU when Greenaway left.”

“Not you?” he asks. 

You dramatise your pain as Derek laughs. “Not me. I didn’t transfer for a long time, unfairly. It’s okay, though, you’ll remember Emily eventually.” 

When you realised Spencer wasn’t as okay as you’d thought, you gathered a gaggle of agitated doctors to assess him. He knew his name and birthday. He was wrong about the date, the president, and the state. You’re in Arizona where he’d thought Indiana. Your bag talks to the heat: Spencer’s fan, his sunblock, his antihistamines. He couldn’t believe it when he asked where his stuff was and you passed him your handbag. 

You’re trying to drive home to him that you’re not just dating, you're common-law partners, Spence. He adores you. You’d spend life in his lap if you could afford it. 

“How’d she get you to believe her?” Derek asks Spencer. 

“Uh.” 

“I kissed him a couple of times before he came clean about the amnesia,” you say. “So I didn’t have to explain.” 

“I didn’t mean to lie,” Spencer says. 

He’s looking less haggard now you’ve brushed his hair. It was sweet to watch his shoulders relax. He shuddered when you tucked a strand behind his ears, and didn’t flinch when you asked if you could kiss his cheek. It’s hard to have him vulnerable here and not be allowed to lick his wounds for him. You feel better the better he feels. You’ve fluffed his pillow, wrapped him tighter in blankets. When he got up to pee and you offered to help, he gave a resolute No Thank You, which in hindsight is hilarious but at the time made you wanna squeeze your eyes out. 

“It’s okay,” you say softly, “I don’t mind kissing him, even if he doesn’t remember me. Just so long as he doesn’t mind it back.”

Spencer manages to squeeze your hand. It’s a soft one, but it’s real. “I don’t mind.” 

“You dog,” Derek says. 

“Stop, stop. He’s not doing anything wrong, is he?” you ask. “I’m the evil one, forcing kisses on him when he doesn’t know me.” 

“I do know you,” Spencer says. 

“What’s it like to have a crush on your own girlfriend?” Derek asks, unwilling to quit his teasing where he’s crossing his arms in the chair opposite, his cup of coffee drained on the side table. 

Spencer swallows. “Uh, nerve-wracking.” 

“Believe it or not, that’s not so different to now,” Derek says. 

Spencer looks to you for confirmation, which you love. You slide your chair closer to him and clasp his wrist with your free hand. “Sometimes you're still a little shy, but it’s not so bad. Full of myself I may be, Spencer Reid, but you do love me. It’s easy with us.” 

“Do we really live together?” he asks. “You said common-law.” 

“Not technically. I stay at your place four nights a week. You stay with me for the weekends.” 

“Every week?” he asks.

“Yeah.” 

“We’re never apart?” he asks. 

His face is turning pink. You could kiss every bit of colour on his cheeks. 

“Derek, would you get Spencer something to eat from the cafeteria? Please?” you ask, levelling your friend with a pleading gaze. 

Derek gathers himself up. “Sure. We gotta feed the string bean something, don’t we?” he asks. 

Alone again, you draw lines up and down Spencer’s arm with your nails. You’re going to be indulgent in yourself, and ask him everything you’d ever wanted to know. And then a little extra, too. 

“You’re not as skinny anymore, have you noticed? You’re quite lean.” You stand to sit where you’d put yourself before he confessed. Your hand falls to his knee. “Solid, sometimes. You and Derek go for walks occasionally.” 

“We do?” 

“Mm-hm. And me and you do yoga in the living room when we can summon the energy. We tried couples Pilates, but Pilates is hard.” 

“We did?”

You smile warmly. “It’s nice to be in love with someone who loves in the same way.” 

“How do you love?” 

His ears are bitten-red. “Oh, you know. I’m too affectionate. It’s hard not to be with you. Everyone used to think we were… I don’t know, playing a game.” You slide your hand up his thigh, leaning on him to watch his pupils blow. “But I love you for far more than your constant propensity to blush. You get me flowers every time you see my favourites, and you never let me go to sleep without a kiss. Usually here.” You poke the skin beside your eye. “But sometimes you’ll surprise me and kiss my nose.” You're going lax with love, remembering things he’s done, and does every day.  “On a Saturday morning we make tea and I put my hands in your t-shirt. You do the crosswords for fun. Sometimes we time them.” 

“That’s not how you love, that’s what you love,” Spencer says. 

“Oh, you want a play by play of things?” He ducks his chin, but he smiles when you laugh. 

“I just can’t believe this is happening.”

You try to think of things you don’t think about anymore. “You love my sugar lip gloss, so I always wear it.” 

He reaches out tentatively. Shy as a wren in a hedgerow. You let him curl a hand over your elbow, feel the crook of it with his index finger. 

“I buy you stamps, and t-shirts for bed, and stupid stuff you wouldn’t get yourself. We’re… it’s like, it doesn’t feel like gift giving anymore because we’re always getting stuff for each other. You’re just as sweet, you know? When I first started sleeping over you bought me this huge pack of socks ‘cos yours are all odd,” you laugh. “I knew I loved you already, but…”

It’s a little sad, actually. He can’t remember all the stuff that makes you the couple you are. It’s not what you’d meant to get into. 

“Can I ask you something?” you ask. 

“Anything.” 

He’s slept-in and breathless, like he ran laps in his dreams. 

“What do you think of me now? I always wondered if you liked me back then, or if I just caught you off guard.” 

“Who wouldn’t like you?” 

“But did you?” 

He looks away hurriedly, his hand dropping from your elbow. “I guess so. But it’s not– not real. I have a crush on you.” His mumbling is sweet. “I have no idea why I’m telling you that.” 

“I had a crush on you, too, back then. It wasn’t anything serious, but it wasn’t a joke. And the more time we spent together, the more I thought we could fall in love,” —you take his hand and put it back on your arm— “and we did.” 

You toy with his fingers. Without looking, ashamed of your own self-indulgence, you ask another question. “What do you think of me now?” 

“I can’t remember,” he says sorrily. 

“What do you think?” 

“You feel like a dream.” He shakes his head. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. I don’t really get how this is real.” 

You shouldn’t be surprised that he’d say it, you practically begged for it, but you can’t stop yourself from sitting up to kiss his forehead gently. “It’s real. Promise. And for the record, you’re handsome. They stopped saying ‘aged like fine wine’ a while ago. Now they just say ‘aged like Spencer Reid’.”

He gives a choky laugh. 

The door opens again. You lift your head expecting Derek and find a weather worm Hotch in the doorway. “Reid, you’re awake,” he says, not bothering with a smile. “Morgan said you have amnesia?” He directs it at both of you. 

Spencer’s looking at Hotch in clear shock. 

“He hasn’t aged that badly,” you chastise teasingly. 

“Hotch, you’re– I thought you would’ve– You’re still–?”

Hotch squints. “You didn’t think I had the stamina for it?” 

Spencer squirms under his gaze. “No, sir, it’s not that–”

“Sir,” Hotch says, and then he smiles. “I forgot when you both used to respect me.” 

“I have the utmost respect for you, sir,” you say through your own smile. 

“Has she been kind to you, Reid?” 

“Uh, yes? Is she not usually?” 

Hotch presses his lips together rather than answer. There’s a sympathy in his expression you resent.

—

It’s a thankfully quick bout of amnesia. The memories start to draw in like a dusting of powdered sugar, his head finely silted, one particle at a time. He finds that the more you talk, the quicker his memory is jogged. You tell him about your first kiss —I tried to kiss your cheek but you moved, it was the funniest thing— and your second. You spin stories of cases, the worst ones and the best, all the times you held hands without people knowing, the times you’d been caught. He can’t imagine it, goes hot with the memory, picturing kissing you as you’d described and the mortification of being walked in on. 

You tell him about your vacation to Nevada a few months ago and he thinks about how you’d fallen asleep on the plane. Your nose in his arm, your unhappy sigh at the tight leg space. 

Remembering you is more than half of remembering himself.

Your hands —his hands. Your smile —his laugh. The way you fold his hands in your lap —the urge to catch your chin for a kiss. 

He doesn’t know how to deal with it, and then suddenly he feels like Spencer. Your partner, your love, his proudest title for years. You’re standing at the end of the hospital bed in pajamas folding your clothes, allowed to stay the night while he’s so urgently confused and upset, you can’t make him stay here alone, please, I know you guys have those little cots for the kids ward, and he just knows you completely. 

Hours of diligent if embezzled storytelling gives it all back to him. 

“I like the lipgloss because you used to wear that perfume that smelled like sugar donuts,” he says, scratching a hand through limp hair. “And every time I crossed the square by the station–”

You let out a surprising squeal of joy. “Spencer!” you say, racing to take his hands, “Yes! The donut truck!” 

You go in for a kiss he gladly returns. “Oh, you remember,” you say, softening as he takes your neck into his hand. “I was getting worried.” 

“Some of it’s still hazy, but not so much you.” 

You wrap your arms around him for a hug, careful of his sore head. “I missed you, Spencer. I still loved you when you couldn’t remember me, but I missed you. Do you remember you?” 

He traces the scar on your lower cheek with his thumb. He’s genuinely relieved to be able to say he does. He’s not scared of what you think of him anymore, ‘cos he knows that everything he feels for you is mutual. “I remember you telling me my bad feeling was just a case of the heebies.” 

You bend into his touch. “Honey, I’m sorry. How was I supposed to know you’d get your skull whacked with a cinder block? It was a bakery. I thought the worst that could happen was getting a face full of red velvet or something.” You kiss his nose quickly. “I’m so glad you’re you. Now I can sleep in the bed with you, and not that collapsible camping cot.” 

He shushes you. “Don’t give us away. They’re not gonna let you stay if they think I’m fine.” 

You giggle excitedly, arms around him again for another squeeze. “I missed you so much. You’re so devious now.” 

He rubs your back. “I missed you too. And I still have a crush on you, I swear.”

“Thank you, honey, that means a lot to me.” 

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆

thanks for reading!

[bunnis-monsters]

A bunny hybrid reader that notices a male fox hybrid following them and watching from a far. Naturally you get nervous cause foxes prey on bunnies! But it turns out he’s very shy and wants to court a cute chubby bunny but doesn’t know how to. Maybe he’s also a soft dom with praise kink? 🤭

NSFW

warning: chasing(slight predator/prey?), breeding, praise kink

You had felt eyes on you since the moment you entered the forest you usually collected herbs from. It wasn’t exactly unusual to feel watched considering many other hybrids called the forest home… but today it felt… different.

You spotted a fleck or red, the shade making your fight or flight kick in.

Instantly you began sprinting, dropping your basket and booking it back to your cabin. You didn’t dare turn around, your poor heart racing as your fluffy bunny ears picked up the sound of running behind you.

“W-wait!”

You cried out in fear at the sound of your pursuer calling for you to stop, shaking your head. “N-no, go away!”

You reached your home, quickly locking your door and peering out the peep hole as your fluffy cotton tail twitched nervously.

There was a fox hybrid outside on your porch, sniffing the air and rubbing his face against every surface he could… was he leaving his scent there for later?

“Please come out… I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to talk.”

This happened nearly every day for a month. The fox chased you, nearly running you over before you got into your cottage at the end of the day.

That was until you weren’t fast enough.

The fox had been studying the way you move, when you took the shortest of breaks to catch your breath, and when you quickened your pace again to get away. Bunnies were masters at escaping… but foxes were very smart.

You knew something was different this time. Call it instinct, call it just coincidence, but you noticed that he wasn’t running after you as fast as usual… and his eyes were following your every movement the entire time.

Like he already knew he was going to catch you… it was just a matter of time.

You were too slow as you turned a corner, slipping on some pine straw and crashing to the ground. In seconds he was on top of you, and all you could do was close your eyes and hoped he killed you quickly…

But his jaws never closed around your neck. After a few moments of silence, you opened your eyes to see him butting his head against you affectionately, his tail swaying behind him.

His eyes were half lidded, staring down at you with infatuation and adoration.

“I’ve finally got you, little bunny.”

He was absolutely glued to your side now, clinging tightly to you as you hesitantly made your way home. The fox seemed absolutely smitten, sometimes softly nipping at your fluffy ears or neck, startling you.

“So pretty… you smell so, so good…”

After dinner he curled up with you, his fluffy tail swaying as he kept rubbing his scent on your neck. Could he tell that you were close to your heat? Is that why he had become interested in you?

“I’ve wanted you for so long… you’re cute and just the softest thing I’ve ever seen… but it’s hard approaching a bunny when you’re a fox.”

Your cheeks heated up as he pressed against you, your cotton tail wagging furiously when his bulge rubbed against your clothed cunt.

It wasn’t long until your next heat cycle, and it was clear that he knew it too. He continued to purr as he grabbed hold of your hips, guiding your bunny cunt over his bulge slowly.

When you let out a stifled whine, he smiled, giving your soft bunny ear a nibble. “Mmm, that’s a good girl. You’re so soft and pretty, let me take care of you, sweetheart…”

Within seconds he had your panties off, his fingers stretching your whole. As they pumped in and out of you, his lips met yours in a needy kiss.

His tongue explores your mouth, entangling with yours. It was hard to think with all these new sensations…

“Come on, bunny… lemme see that pretty pussy of yours, hmm?”

You shyly opened your legs, and he moved to position his cock at your entrance. At this point you were whining and bucking your hips, ready to be mated.

It was reassuring when he held onto your hand as his cock sunk into your fat bunny cunt, his face burying itself into your neck.

“F-fuck, so good… god…”

His grip on your hips tightened, the soft flesh warm against his hand. He’d never had something so soft and cute underneath him… you were amazing…

It felt too good, his cock was rubbing and touching all of the best spots, making your clit throb. As soon as he noticed, he moved his hand to rub circles around your clit while he picked up speed.

As he fucked into you, whining into your neck, he said the cutest things.

“I love you… love you so much, so fucking pretty…” he blubbered, his teeth grazing against your neck before he bit you.

“G-gonna… gonna knock you up, okay? Gonna be my cute little mate…”

Those words had your walls fluttering around him, your toes curling as the two of you came together.

After coming down from your respective highs, he became a bit shy again, giving your cheek a tentative lick. “You did well, pretty girl…”

You simply butted your head against him affectionately, returning his soft purrs.

Now, you had a mate, a sweet one at that. You didn’t have to worry about other bunnies bothering you when a fox called your cottage home.

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @midromiell @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog

[oceantornadoo]

protective ex-husband!simon, implied violence/break-in

“i know! and that’s when i told her-“ you paused, your hand halfway to the keys at the bottom of your purse. your apartment door was open, a menacing sliver of darkness awaiting you. “hey, i’m going to have to call you back.” you ended the call with your friend, slowly backing away from your door. shit. you knew you locked the door when you left for work, and no one else had a copy of your key. a creeping sensation came over you, like someone was watching from within. slowly, you retreated, taking the elevator down to your apartment’s lobby as the anxiety crawled through your body. you wracked your brain, wondering if you should call the police. wondering if they would even believe you. there was only one call to make.

“come on, pick up.” you tapped your foot impatiently as your ex husband took forever to answer the phone. it was all you could do to not think about your home being violated, about a potential stalker or date gone wrong.

“‘ello?”

“si- simon, it’s me.”

“i know, lovie. that’s why i picked up.” you let out a quiet sob of relief at his voice, the bottle on your emotions starting to leak.

“what’s wrong?” his voice changed, immediately hearing your silent tears. he could always read you too well. “i don’t want to bother you but” you hiccupped. shit. “but my apartment door was open and i’m pretty sure i closed it, i usually do. i don’t know if im being silly but now im in the lobby and im just scared, simon.” there was a fumbling sound, the echoes of simon zipping up his jacket and pulling on his shoes.

“go to that cafe across the street, dove. go get yourself one of those overpriced hot chocolates. i’ll be there in 15.”

9 minutes later, your shaking hands were tapping random patterns on the cafe table, unable to raise your drink to your mouth without spilling it. your eyes were locked onto the wood grain, counting lines to distract yourself.

suddenly, a gloved hand covered yours. you looked up and there he was, your ghost in all his glory. you forgot everything for a second, forgot the past arguments and the strained silences, and flung yourself into his arms. you breathed in his comforting scent of pinewood that masked his cigarettes, a cologne you got him four years ago for christmas. your face was wet, and as he pulled you back to check you for injuries, his thumb brushed a stray tear away from your face. you didn’t even realize you were crying.

“‘s okay, baby. i’m here now. give me your keys.” you fumbled for your keys, purse strap sliding off your shoulder as your hands shook too much to keep it balanced. simon caught it gracefully, finding your keys in the same pocket you always kept them. “stay here. i’ll be back.” you nodded instinctively. only when you saw his figure retreat to your apartment building, clothed in all black like a figure of death, you realized you hadn’t told him your new apartment number.

twenty minutes passed. simon’s presence had worked like medicine as your heart rate has now dropped back down to normal, your hands stable enough to finish your drink. any other person would be worried for simon’s safety, but you knew the only person you should be concerned for was your intruder.

“you’re stayin’ with me tonight.” he was back, looking exactly the same. he wasn’t even winded. “thank you simon, but don’t be ridiculous. i can get a hotel. you live so far from my work anyways.” he approached you, crowding into your space as he leaned over you, even with a cafe table in between. “consider it payment then.” he tilted your chin up with his left hand as he hid his other one, covered with blood, in his pocket. “one way or another, you’re in my bed tonight, dove.” you gulped at that. “and i’ve got riley in the car. you wouldn’t abandon him, would you?” of course he had gotten your cat when he checked out your apartment. riley hated men, but never simon. cheeky bastard.

“you win.”

fast forward a couple of hours and you were getting ready for bed at simon’s, belly full from the meal he had made you. riley made himself at home on the living room couch, of course. “he’s in my spot.” you gestured to your cat on the couch. “wha’ d’ya mean?” your husband simon was now in sweats and sweats only, clean from the shower he had after you both got home back to his place. you pretended not to see him methodically wash blood out of his fingernails, reasoning quite easily with yourself that it was for a good cause.

“my couch for tonight.” simon moved toward you and you avoided his eyes, trying not to stare at how beautiful he still was. muscular but thick, torso adorned with scars you used to trace on sunday mornings when you both stayed in bed until the afternoon. he gripped your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. “told’ya you were in my bed tonight, dovie.” you swallowed and he watched your throat move, memories of you swallowing something else countless times rising to the surface.

“don’t be silly, simon. that would cross a line.”

“what line?” his arms were crossed now, drawing your attention to an unfamiliar tattoo right above his heart. a small dove.

“we’re not together anymore, simon.”

“you’re still my wife.”

silence. he was always like this, pushing you until you broke. he was unwilling to compromise, even on the smallest of issues. usually you’d fight him, spit fire until you lost your voice. tonight though, you were reminded of how he was the only person you were able to call, the only one committing dark sins without asking, all for your safety. instead, you threw your hands up and walked into his bedroom, mechanically stripping as you put on one of his shirts and a pair of boxers. you felt his eyes on you, burning a hole through the fabric. you were tired, so tired of this push and pull.

“what.” you whipped around, all venom. his eyes were impossibly soft, holding yours with a peaceful caress. “you’re as beautiful as the day i lost you.” your fire went out at that. “you’re just trying to get me naked.” you mumbled, looking down as you fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. you watched as his body came into view, pressing your forehead against his bare skin.

“could see you in a thousand layers and you’d still be the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen, dove.” ever so slowly, your hands crept up his body to grab his shoulders and neck. he picked you up with ease, turning the lights off and tucking you both in bed. “when did you get the tattoo?” you asked in the dark.

“3 months and 12 days ago.” what would have been your 3rd year of marriage, your anniversary. you lowered your head and gave him a kiss right where the tattoo was. “can we talk about it in the morning?” you snuggled into him, that familiar scent calming you once again. “always, dove.” he kissed your forehead, smiling in the dark.

----

idk why im obsessed with the break-in and simon to the rescue trope but its fueling me lately

[beloveds-embrace]

part two of dukedom!141 . please dont ask why johnny and simon aren't in it and why itss end is so abrupt bc tumblr fucked me over twice while trying to save it 😭😭

You could have never expected this. When you had come to your darling husband with your request, you hadn’t known what to expect at all. But you could have never expected this.

“Are you awake, my Duchess?”

My Duchess. Such a simple thing, even used before, but now it rang so differently in your ears. You don’t want to turn around and face John, but he doesn’t give you the choice.

The hands on your waist, on the hand-shaped bruises lining your hips, gently turn you around on the bed so that your bare chest is pressed against John’s. You believe the quilts on top of the both of you are unnecessary, because you, yourself, are already running hotter than a furnace and you wonder if he feels it.

“John…”

“My Duchess.” He sighs again, leaning down to kiss your neck, the soft skin littered with hickeys. Distantly, you make note of the fact that you are clean and wearing fresh undergarments, as is John. He must have cleaned the both of you after last night…

Last night. Just thinking about it is making you feel even warmer, burying your face in John’s broad shoulders even as he hums and continues to trail kisses up your jaw.

How were you supposed to know that your husband is one, big, jealous bastard who is simply too good at hiding it?

“…I feel as if there has been a misunderstanding, darling,” John had said to you, after Kyle had silently dismissed himself and John had rounded the table to kneel in front of your shocked self. Taking your hands in his, he had stared at you with his full attention. “You have been unsatisfied, and I failed to see it. I apologize, wife.”

“John, what-“

“I feel as if I’ve failed you in general, truthfully,”

“You haven’t! John-“

He kisses the back of your hands, and that silences you. “Wife, have I ever made you feel as if I would not honor your wants and needs?” This time, he waits for you to reply and it takes you a second, blinking down at him.

“…no.”

John’s face twists just so slightly, though you still can’t understand what he’s feeling or thinking. “Then, have I ever made you feel as if I would withhold anything from you?”

“…no, John.”

“Then why go to Graves?” John’s voice lowers to a grumble, his brows furrowing. Such an expression isn’t one you are so used to seeing on him, and you dislike it.

His question makes you pause, biting your lips. You want to close your eyes, ignore the warmth in your cheeks, but you can’t bring yourself to look away from him for long before you are sighing softly.

“I feel so… bereft, John.” You admit softly, squeezing his hands back. “Bereft of love. You treat me so well, all of you do, but it’s just-… I want to feel love, John.”

John observes you for a little longer, then he speaks. “And you believe Graves loves you?”

“…no.” Though it hurt to admit, you were never one to lie or blind yourself. “He doesn’t, even if he says he can. But he is willing to give me affection and that is far more than I could ever possibly ask of you, John.”

You could tell that Graves saw you simply as an ends to a means he never thought he’d have the opportunity to have. But you were desperate, and you didn’t want to bother John, or cause a controversy that couldn’t be easily hidden. You wanted affection, love, fake as it may be.

The way he viewed you was nothing new to you, of course. You were a tool from the moment you were born; a glorified breeding stock, just one fortunate enough to be born rich. You weren’t meant to be anything more than that but here, you had it all. Almost. What little else you lacked you were sure Graves could give, even if you wished it was-

“But it’s not.”

Eyes widening, you look at him and wait for him to elaborate, thoughts drifting away.

“It’s not far more than you could ask of me, wife.” John tells you. He moves your hands open, kissing your palms. “I understand how you see it now. Did you truly believe that I don’t love you? That Kyle, Johnny, and Simon don’t love you?”

On top of your wide eyes, your jaw now slackens, staring at him in silence. But he is truthful; that much you can easily tell.

“Duchess, you are my Duchess.” John breathes out, now pecking the ring adorning your ring finger. “My wife. I adore you far more than that fool could ever hope to adore you. Had I known this was how you felt, I would have fixed it in a heartbeat so much sooner.”

“What do you mean-“ because surely he doesn’t mean that. Surely he doesn’t mean what you think he means, something you hadn’t allowed yourself to even hope for. No, no, you are misunderstanding it-

“Duchess,” John sighs your name so fondly it leaves you breathless, left stunned in front of him. “If it’s love you want, I will give it to you. If it’s affection and intimacy you want, I will give it to you. Not just me- all of us, my Duchess. But should you still truly want Graves,” and here, John’s face twitches again though this time you can see that it practically pains him to say the words. “Then I will personally make sure no matter what happens, he will not hurt you or besmirch your reputation.”

Silnce follows his words as he waits for you. Your hands are now trembling in his grasp, stomach twisting painfully. You don’t dare to hope, to reach out even if he’s offering what you want and more on a silver platter.

“John…” you whisper out, afraid that speaking any louder will shatter this moment. “John. Do you- do you truly mean it? Please, John-“

“I do, I do. I always will.” He says, again and again and again, hands cupping your face now so you can see the absolute truth in his eyes. At last, he stands up. John doesn’t give you a moment to think before he is scooping you into his embrace, a wicked grin now on his face.

“Now,” he practically purrs, squeezing you close to the hard muscles of his body. Your cheeks are warm anew, unable to look away from your husband. “My wife said she is unsatisfied, no? I ought to fix that, don’t you agree, Duchess?”

“O- oh, but you work-“

“Wife comes first, of course. And perhaps we can consider talking about the little baby name list you’ve been hiding, my dear.”

“John!”

"I have so many meetings today," John groans softly, one hand raising your chin so he can kiss you once, and then twice afterwards. He leans down, burying his face right between your breasts, and after a few seconds of contemplation you begin scratching your nails across his scalp ever so lightly.

The sound he lets out alone is enough to reignite heat in your belly. To think such a handsome man now is yours... several handsome men...

"So many meetings," John repeats with a sigh, his beard pleasantly tickling your skin. Big, warm hands slide down your waist, caressing where your thighs meet your ass, squeezing the soft plush. "I won't have time for lunch today with you, my dear. But my boys will take such good care of you, promise."

You just let him caress you as he pleases; there's something so inherently admiring, devoted, in the way he touched you then and now. You feel so loved under his touch, whyever would you pull away?

Still, you do look down at him. "Are you sure they don't mind... me, John?" You can't help but ask, such a nervous and worrisome thing. John wishes you'd put yourself first just once, but they have plenty of time to show you each how much they love you.

"Yes." He replies easily, chuckling. "Darling, I'm afraid you'll have a harder time prying them off. Now up, I believe Kyle has already prepared a bath for you. He just went to get you an outfit for today. He'll be the one helping you today, if you'd let him, of course."

And oh, what a bath he's prepared for you; candles alight, rose petals delicately strewn around and in the warm, oil-scented steaming water, and Kyle's fingers crooked deep in you while he murmurs of what a lovely, perfect wife you are for them <33

dukedom au masterlist

[sinofwriting]

I ❤️ MILFS - Max Verstappen

Words: 9,747 Summary: Max wasn’t too sure who the woman was that was always with Logan, but he was sure that he wanted to get to know her. Note(s): Sargeant Reader, Age Gap, Older!Reader, Logan and Oscar are both 20 during the 2023 season, not 22. The 2023 driver standings are different (I am giving Logan the season he should have had). Reader has the nickname Pan (short for momma panther). Logan is sweetheart, Max is head over heels in love. I’m gonna be honest I never thought this fic would get written or finished. I got the idea for it back in December but only started writing it on March 16th. And it would have never happened without @burningcupcakefire & @pucksandpower. Thank you both so much for all your help. (also if anyone wants to see more of Max and Pan, let me know)

Masterlist | Support Me! | I ❤️ MILFS verse

Max remembers the announcement of Oscar’s arrival to F1, the drama and hilarity of it. Sometimes he sees the kids name and has to stop himself from laughing. No nineteen-year-old had any business being that funny.

Max doesn’t remember much of Logan’s announcement to F1. Only that he was young as well, being the first American in forever, and Williams' quick admission that they hadn’t wanted to sign, had wanted to wait another year.

He wishes now that he had paid more attention.

There’s a woman standing in the William’s garage, on Logan’s side. She’s clearly there for him, with the similar pass that his trainer has around her neck, and the way her eyes intently follow Logan’s movements around the garage as he talks to the mechanics and engineers.

She also happens to be the most beautiful woman Max has ever seen.

—

She can’t help but clutch at Benny’s arm the whole race, terror gripping her along with pride.

Benny chuckles when the race comes to an end, Logan doing his cooldown lap and she finally lets go. “And just think you’ve got over twenty more races of this.”

Her nose wrinkle and a hand goes over her heart that’s thudding. “Please, Benny.”

He chuckles again but pats her shoulder. “You’ve got this.”

“Not gonna tell me it gets easier?”

He snorts. “No. This is far worse than F2 or F3 and we still were both scared watching him out there. We’ll never know a day of peace now.”

She sighs, watching the screens as it shows the top three getting interviewed and in the background you can see some of the drivers getting weighed. “He’s going to be sore and in pain.” It makes something clench inside her, the knowledge that Logan would be in pain. It was part of the job, the aches and the bruises, but it didn’t make it any easier for her to know.

“I’ve already got everything set up as soon as he’s back and debriefs are done.”

Her eyes catch on the screen showing where all the drivers placed and tears prick her eyes and she shakes her head. “Twelfth in his first grand prix. I can’t believe it.”

The garage is filled with chatter as the team celebrates getting their first points of the season and their rookie driver performing better than they expected. The way they don’t even try to whisper it makes her jaw twitch. She was grateful that Williams was giving Logan his dream, but she didn’t like how they were going about it. Quickly and publicly stating that they didn’t want to sign Logan yet, wanted to wait a year. And now this.

A light nudge to her ribs makes her unclench her jaw and she gives Benny a grateful smile.

Both of their attention is quickly drawn however to the two Williams drivers entering the garage, the space filling with cheers.

She smiles as Logan grins at the team, basking in the smiles they have on their faces for him and Alex, the pats on the back he’s getting. The grin turns to a beam when he spots Benny and her and he quickly bounces over to them.

A laugh leaves her at the way Benny pulls him into a bear hug, lifting him off his feet a little. “Proud of you, kid.” He murmurs.

She can’t hear what Logan says, but he’s put down and it’s her turn.

She wants to bundle him up in her arms, hold him and not let go, but doesn’t want to embarrass him in front of his team, so she raises a hand and pushes his hair out of his face. “You did amazing, baby.”

He smiles at her, all bright and shiny eyes and then he’s wrapping his arms around her, hugging her tight and she’s quick to return it, rubbing his back.

“You did so good, Logan. So good. I’m so proud.” She tells him again, pressing a kiss to his sweaty head.

“Thank you, momma.” He tells her, hugging her tight for another moment before letting her go.

She smiles up at him and god, that makes her heart ache. Her son, her baby, taller than her somehow. She woke up some days and still wasn’t sure where the time had gone and how he was taller than her shoulders. “Go shower and debrief and then Benny and me will take care of you, yeah? And I’ll get your favorite ordered to the hotel, ready as soon as you get there.”

He beams at her again, darting forward to press a quick to her cheek before starting to rush away. “Best mom ever!” He calls over his shoulder and she laughs.

—

Y/N Sargeant will never forget the first time she held her son, only then at nine years old, he had been her cousin.

Logan was small, wrinkly, pink skin, and full of small cries. She could remember staring at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to understand how he could be what her baby dolls were made to be like. She remembers her mama having her sit on the couch after asking her if she wanted to hold him and how she had quickly nodded, hoping that maybe holding him would somehow make him look better.

She remembers the sudden nerves that built in her stomach as her mama started to hand him to her. Remembers being scared that she would drop him, remembers thinking how stupid it would be if he was still weird to look at like this.

And she remembers finally holding that and it disappearing. His small cries, no more, his wriggling calmed down, and his wrinkles no longer looked weird but cute. She remembers holding him for the first time and feeling unconditional love for the first time in her life.

—

She’s twelve when she realizes that her uncle and aunt don’t like Logan much. It didn’t make sense to her then, still doesn’t know. Because they liked Dalton just fine, but not Logan.

She remembers asking her dad about it. Asking him why they didn’t love Logan, but loved Dalton and worse, she remembers the pained look in his eyes as he realizes that his child picked up on what he and his wife had as well.

It’s the first hard adult conversation she has with her parents and it’s fitting that it’s about Logan, as they sit her down and talk to her about how not all parents love their kids, and how sometimes that includes them only loving one child and not the other.

—

She remembers clearly the first time Logan calls her mom.

It’s her fourteenth birthday and she’s got the four-year-old in her lap as she sits in a rocking chair, reading her English essay aloud for him. Logan’s eyes are closed, head resting on her chest, over her heart, and his little fingers of his one hand are curled in her shirt right by his head.

She wants to sit there forever, reading to him as she rocks back and forth. But she wants another slice of cake before Martha puts it away and Logan needs to sleep in his bed where he can stretch out fully and drool on his pillowcases and not her shirt that Martha will surely tut over but then smile fondly when she sees Logan doing it all over again.

Setting the essay down on her dresser, she runs her now free fingers through his blond hair. “C’mon Logan, time for bed.”

He grumbles, fingers tightening on her shirt and she can feel it being pulled slightly.

“You can put on your new race car jammies, cuddle with Ello.”

He shakes his head, squirming a bit in her lap as he tries to shove himself closer. “Stay with you.”

“Oh, baby.” She whispers, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Y’know I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.”

His head shakes again and she has to bite her lip as his head hits her collarbone. “Want cuddles, momma.”

Her heart thuds painfully in her chest at the name he called her, tears pricking her eyes. “Okay, baby. Let's get you in jammies, grab Ello, and you can stay with me tonight.”

—

She’s only been eighteen for ten hours when she asks her father for the near impossible.

“I want custody of Logan. I want to adopt him. And I need your help to make that happen.”

He stares at her, no expression on his face, not even shock.

“He’s,” She pauses, jaw twitching and tears springing to her eyes. “He wants to do karting, just like Dalton. And he’s good at it. I’ve taken him. They told him no. They haven’t bought him clothes in two years. They don’t know a single thing about his school, his grades, his teachers. He hasn’t called David dad since he was six and he hasn’t called Madelyn mom since he was four.” Her hands are formed into fists, nails digging into her palms as she speaks. “I have money, I can provide for him. I’ve got my shares of the company now and I’ve got my inheritance from Grandma Talls. But I know that a judge won’t sign off without some influence.”

“Madelyn and Daniel?”

She leans forward in her seat, a spark of hope filling her. “I already talked to them, they’ll do it.”

One of his hands comes up to rub at his mouth, sighing. Then it drops to open up one of his desk drawers and he’s pulling out a bunch of papers, dropping them on the desk in front of her.

“I figured this was gonna happen and I knew after you talked to them and they called me. They signed away their rights three hours ago. Michael and Lily are waiting outside to come in so you can sign the papers.”

Tears slipped from her eyes, joy wrapping itself around her entire being from his words, the fact that he called their family lawyer to be on standby, that he and her mother were so supportive. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

He smiles at her. “I couldn’t say no to you. Not when it comes to Logan. I’m way too young to have a grandkid, let alone one that’s eight, but I made my peace with that years ago.”

“Thank you.”

—

Max watches the free practice session coverage intently as they focus on the Williams garage, nose wrinkling when they focus on Logan’s trainer, Benny and then James Vowles. Could it really be possible that they never once caught a shot of her? He starts to get a sinking feeling in his stomach that he's gonna have to go on Twitter when the camera moves and suddenly she’s there and he’s scrambling for the tv remote, pressing the pause button just before the camera switches to an overhead shot of the Bahrain track.

His heart skips a beat as he gets his first good luck at her. Her pretty eyes and smile. His eyes then travel down, wanting to know her name and his heart drops.

Y/N Sargeant, Mother of Logan Sargeant.

Fuck.

—

“Momma Panther!” Oscar greets to the confusion of other drivers as Logan and a woman enter the room.

Lando’s eyebrows are raised as he watches Oscar stand. Watching as his teammate claps Logan on the back, before giving him an actual hug. Before he then hugs the woman as well, whispering something to her that makes her laugh.

Pulling away from her, Oscar grins when her hand comes up to pat his cheek for a second. “Thank you for the invite, Os.”

“Of course.” He sends a fond look to Logan, who's standing awkwardly by the table.

“Y’know Logan and you are always welcome.”

She makes a humming noise.

“C’mon, let me introduce you to everyone.”

Turning around, he smirks at the table. “Everyone, Logan.”

Charles lets out a laugh, as the others chuckle.

He gestures to her, “This is Momma Panther or Pan.”

“Y/N or Pan.” She corrects, playfully shaking her finger at Oscar. “I only let the F2 boys call me Momma Pan.”

He sighs. “Okay, this is Y/N. Logan’s mom.”

Lando coughs, water going down the wrong pipe. Fernando’s eyes are wide as he looks at her. Charles, George, and Alex are all nodding. Max has a weird expression on his face and Carlos looks dumbfounded.

“She,” Carlos points at her. “Is his,” he points at Logan. “Mother?”

Logan moves away from the table to stand by his mom, easily melting into her side at all the attention. The action makes Oscar smile, all too used to the easy affection between the mother and son. “I got pretty lucky right?”

She shakes her head. “I’m just happy you weren’t a difficult child.”

Logan both blushes and preens at the same time.

Carlos shakes his head, disbelief still clear.

“Please, sit.” George says after a moment. “We haven’t ordered yet.”

The seasoned drivers and her watch amused as both Oscar and Logan usher her to sit first. Oscar easily then lets Logan sit next before sitting beside the American. The two of them sharing a grin after.

It makes her shake her head as she turns her attention to the menu, tuning out the sound of conversation picking back up.

The gentle sound of a throat clearing makes her glance to her left.

The current two time world champion smiles a bit awkwardly at her. “Have you been here before?”

She shakes her head, turning her head a bit to look at him better. “No. To Australia of course, for Logan’s races and to visit Oscar once, but not here.”

He nods and she can’t help but notice the way he swallows harshly. “We started coming here in 2021, it’s good food. Good drinks.”

She laughs, “good gin and tonic?”

He flushes a little, but laughs. “Yes. Very good. Heavy on the gin.”

She nods, “I think I’ll have one of those then.”

Her eyes drift back to the menu, not even wincing at the prices next to the dishes. This was nearly cheap compared to where she had been forced to eat growing up.

“Momma, can we,”

“Yes.” She answers before Logan finishes, already knowing what he’s asking. “Also you two, no hard liquor. We have plans tomorrow.” She continues, still looking at the menu.

They wouldn’t get drunk from a few drinks, but she had a feeling that Lando would try to instigate something again with Oscar, making the poor kid so drunk he could barely walk, again. And she didn’t mind people thinking that she was overbearing with Logan and even Oscar. The boys knew that if they really wanted to do something they could, even if she said otherwise. It was one of the nice things about being an adult.

Logan wrinkles his nose, glancing at the drinks part of the menu, before grinning. “They have it.”

Oscar glances at what he’s pointing at, shaking his head. “You and your goddamn obsession.”

“We come here like once a year.” Logan defends. “And no other country sells it.”

It’s not until after the server leaves, all of their orders taken, that conversation starts again.

“So, Mrs. Sargeant,” Lando starts.

“Just Y/N or even Pan.” She sends a fond look to Oscar who had made that nickname stick. “And I’m not married.” She says, amused.

“Ah.”

“Not married.” Fernando shakes his head. “Now that doesn’t sound right.”

She looks at him amused. “Don’t believe in premarital sex?” She teases.

The older driver laughs and so do the others. “No. Just hard to believe that you aren’t married. You are a very gorgeous woman.”

“Thank you.”

“So,” Lando starts again, giving Max a weird look seeing how his friend is gripping his glass of water. “Will you be coming to all the races?”

She nods. “Yes, I have since Logan started his career. Haven’t missed one.”

Logan shakes his head, grinning at her. “Nope, not one.”

“Your work allows you to do that?”

Her lips press together for a second to try and hide her smile at the gentle but obvious fishing they are doing. “I have shares in some companies and a very generous inheritance. So, no true, real work.”

“You do some work for Grandpa when we’re in the states.”

“I organize his desk for him, which he then messes up as soon as he sits back down at it.”

“You do not mind the constant travel? It is quite tiring.” Charles asks, curious.

“No. And once I got Logan in karting, I promised him that I’d make it to all of his races. Maybe in a few years, I’ll stop going to all of them, but I am part of his team as well.”

“Manager?”

“God, no.” She shakes her head at Carlos’ assumption. “Cook slash nutritionist. Benny, his trainer is amazing, also doubles at being a physiotherapist for Logan, but he doesn’t know how to cook to save his life. So I make their meals.”

“Mine as well.” Alex pipes in. “They’re truly amazing, by the way.”

“Thank you.”

“Can you make mine again?” Oscar asks, leaning over Logan a bit to look at her. “I’ve missed having them.”

“Sure.” She laughs. “Get me your new sheets before the next race, yeah?”

“Done.”

—

Max watches from the corner of his eyes as she takes her first sip of her gin and tonic. Her brows raise a bit when the drink hits her tongue and he has to force his eyes up, to not focus in on her lips, to think about them and what they’d feel like on, he shakes his head. Forcing the thoughts, the ideas away.

“Very heavy on the gin.” She whispers, turning a bit to look at him.

He rubs his hands against his jeans. “Do you like it?”

“It’s nice.” She smiles.

Relief fills him. “Good.”

He continues to look at her, wanting to tear his eyes away but being unable to. She was simply lovely. And getting this closer look at her, he can’t believe that she’s a mother, or at least a mother to a twenty-year-old. It didn’t seem possible. She looked barely older than him. Not at least thirty-five. She was probably more like Fernando’s age as well and he glances at the fellow two world champion, more disbelief filling him. Because how could the two be close in age at all?

—

Logan sighs as he collapses face first onto Oscar’s bed. Laying there for a solid minute before groaning and turning his head.

“Dinner was nice.”

Oscar hums and he can feel the bed dip beside him.

“You seemed a bit more relaxed.”

“No media, and you and Pan were there. A bit more relaxed.”

Logan scoffs. “Yeah, because you were so tense with media before.” As he speaks, he reaches out to lay a hand on Oscar’s thigh, giving the muscle a squeeze. “It’s nuts, isn’t it? I mean we all got told that the media was so much more, so different, but…” He trails off, shaking his head.

“Yeah.” Oscar sighs and then he’s laying beside Logan, the American luckily moving his hand off and away from the other’s thigh before he lies on it.

“Y’know I have no personality, apparently.”

Logan snorts, eyes opening when he hadn’t even realized he had closed him. The Australian driver also has his head turned so they’re looking at each other. “What? Have they never seen a Prema video?”

He shrugs as best as he can.

“I’d take that over my apparent frat boyness.”

“You? A frat boy?” Oscar laughs.

Logan sighs as he thinks a bit more about it, the mood turning a bit serious. “I just hope momma hasn’t seen it.”

“What happened?”

“She’s just worried. Thinks I haven’t noticed, but she’s wondering if she did a good job with me, done enough for me. And she’s given me everything y’know. I can’t imagine what I’d be like with them as my parents.”

Oscar moves a bit closer, just a few inches between their faces now. “You’d still be amazing, still great. Maybe a frat boy.”

The American rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.

“I think Fernando has a thing for her. For Pan.” He clarifies.

“What?”

“I mean, just during the dinner y’know, he kept looking at her. And him calling her gorgeous.”

“Well, he’d be dumb and blind to not notice that.” Logan scoffs, rolling onto his back and turning his head to the side, keeping his eyes on Oscar.

“I’m being serious.” The younger laughs, poking him lightly. “I think Alonso has a thing for her.”

Logan’s face scrunches up in disgust. “Dude, no. That’s gross. Momma isn’t even thirty and Fernando’s like forty-three. And isn’t he dating that journalist?”

Oscar’s brows press together. “What journalist?”

“The one that gave Fred shit.”

“I thought she died?”

The two look at each other, both baffled.

Logan thinks again of the journalist he’s seen around Fernando and the one that all of the Prema drivers, former and at the time current, had avoided or given shit statements too. They did look a bit different now that he really thought about it. Fernando’s journalist slash girlfriend didn’t have a fucking complex.

“Different journo.” Logan mutters. He then blinks, “wait, she died?”

“Mate, you didn’t hear about that?”

“No!”

“She was supposed to be at Spa, remember. And we all were relieved when she wasn’t there. She died, car crash or something, I can’t remember.”

“How do I not remember this?”

Oscar shrugs as best as he can while laying down. “I don’t know.”

It’s silent for a moment, “you don’t think,”

“No.” Oscar shakes his head, but he doesn’t sound too sure. “I mean, yeah no.”

“Right.” He looks up at the ceiling.

“Okay, so Fernando is out of the running.”

Logan groans, “Os, no.”

“Look he clearly has eyes, but if he’s dating someone he’s out. He wasn’t the only one looking.”

“Oscar, please, it’s my mom.”

“She’s like my mom too, which is why we have to talk about this.” Oscar insists, wriggling closer to Logan. Their sides completely pressed together and when Logan turns his head to look at the other, their noses nearly brush.

He looks at Oscar’s face, all earnest and caring and sighs. “Fine. Charles was looking, but he only dates one type, so safe from him.”

“Lando was looking.”

Logan snorts, “I thought this was for potential dates, not another kid.”

He laughs, their noses brushing together from the movement. “Okay, no Lando. Max.”

“He kind of looked weird when you introduced her.” He frowns.

“I saw that too.”

“But he also got all blushy when they talked.”

“The drivers do know, I mean Alex knows that she didn’t like birth you, right?”

Logan’s frown deepens. “Of course. I mean, it’s not super well known, but it’s a little hard to believe that she naturally had a kid twenty years ago.”

“Thought so.” Oscar then chuckles. “Imagine, them thinking that she did, though. Just thinking she’s got some sort of insane skin care routine.”

—

“How in the hell does she look like that with a twenty-year-old kid?”

“I know right?” Alex says, looking at Carlos. “It’s insane.”

Charles pokes at his own cheek. “I think I need to ask her for advice, what products she uses. I want to age like her.”

“We all want to age like her.” George agrees.

“What are you saying?” Fernando frowns.

A few of them share a look, but Charles and Max share a different one. “Mate, you’ve got wrinkles and all these lines.” Max says. “I mean those are natural, but look at her. The skincare helps.”

Fernando frowns, “Lines?”

Charles touches at his own lines, “see lines. From smiling, laughing, frowning. All good things, very nice. Just not uh,” his brows furrow drawing a blank.

Lando snorts at his struggle. “You just want to help your skin. Keep it healthy.”

The older driver makes a humming noise, considering.

—

Her breath is caught in her throat, eyes wide as she watches the screen. Her heart feels like it is beating in double time. She wants to look away, doesn’t want to watch in case something horrible happens, but she can’t. Because Logan just overtook both Magnussen and Ocon in the same lap. Logan is in 9th. Logan is in a point scoring position with only five laps of the race left. Logan might score his first formula 1 points at his home race, at his actual home race, at his first ever home race.

Her hands are shaking, fingers locked together as she presses them against her mouth, trying to breathe, praying that Logan won’t fall back out of the points.

She doesn’t even notice that he’s lessened that gap to Pierre until suddenly he’s overtaken the other French driver, just three laps later. “Oh my god.”

“Fuck.”

“Benny,” she whispers, and one of her hands is dropping so she can clutch at the older man. “Benny, I think,”

“He’s gonna do it.”

And sure enough he does it. Logan holds his place in front of Pierre and finishes in 8th.

“Yes!” The whole garage is cheering and she’s wrapping her arms around Benny, laughing when the trainer lifts her.

“He did it! He did it!” She cheers.

The garage quiets though as Gaetan starts to speak on the radio.

“Logan, you are on your cooldown lap.”

“Got it. Where’s Alex?”

She winces at the question, one of her hands grips at Benny’s shoulder as he sets her back down, the other holding onto her headphones that miraculously didn’t get thrown off her head or disconnected when celebrating. “Alex is P14, P14.”

It’s quiet for a moment. “Okay, I’m sorry we didn’t get any points today, next race is ours right? The car felt great.”

Both of her hands fly up to her mouth.

“Logan.” Gaetan’s voice is full of disbelief and laughter. “Mate, you finished P8. You got us points. You got your first points.”

She can see him react to the news, the car jerking underneath him for a second, before he wrangles it back under control.

“What? What do you mean?”

“You finished in P8. Clean race, finished ahead of both Alpines and Magnussen.”

“Holy fuck.”

The garage fills with laughter at his reaction and tears start to build in her eyes.

“You guys,” his voice breaks. “Thank you guys so much. This was you guys, the car felt great, really.”

She watches as James hops on the radio. “This was you as well, Logan. Amazing drive today.”

“Thank you, James. Thank you so much for this.”

His mechanics, Benny and her, quickly go over to where the cars are parking, watching as Logan slots it into place. He’s a little shaky as he gets out of the car and he’s about to dart towards them but someone from the FIA, is ushering him to the scale.

His reluctance is clear even with his helmet on, but he goes. Letting them take his weight and as soon as it’s written down, he’s stepping off and away, fumbling with his gloves and then his helmet.

There’s an awed grin on his face, tears in his eyes, and seeing it makes the tears that have built in her own fall.

His gloves and helmet tumble to the ground as his mechanics and Benny surround him, celebrating his points.

Logan laughs when they finally let them go and his eyes light up when he sees her and he darts to her and she easily welcomes him into her arms.

“I’m so proud of you.” She tells him, squeezing his sweaty body close before running a hand through his hair. “You did amazing.”

“I did it, momma.” His voice is weak and she can feel tears hit the skin of her neck where his head is buried.

“You did it.”

—

“Logan did amazing, it was a good drive.”

She blinks in surprise at the voice, turning in her barstool to look. “Max?”

He smiles at her, cheeks flushed. “He did really well.”

“He did.” She agrees before patting the stool next to her.

His smile widens as he takes the seat.

“I didn’t realize that Red Bull was in the same hotel.” Maybe she should have since she had spotted a few Red Bull polos, but she figured it was fan gear.

“I think Aston is here as well. You aren’t celebrating with Logan?”

She shakes her head. “We already celebrated. Him, Oscar, and a bunch of his friends here are throwing a party. I wasn’t really interested in watching them all get wasted, so this,” she gestures to the hotel bar, “is me having a drink to celebrate before going up to my room and ordering some room service.”

“Could I join you?” His cheeks redden at the words, at the way her eyebrows raise. “Not like that. But for food? I’ve never actually eaten anywhere in Miami that wasn’t catering.”

She stares at him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. And I have the perfect place to take you.”

—

“Did I actually score points yesterday?”

“You did.”

“Sweet.”

“Very. How’s the head?”

Logan shrugs, “I mean, I drank a lot, but like I’m just dehydrated.”

She shakes her head, “That will change in a few years.”

“Not gonna tell me to not drink underage?” He teases, bending down to press a kiss to her cheek before grabbing her glass of juice and draining it.

She snorts. “We’re in Europe most of the time and I gave you your first drink. I don’t think I have a leg to stand on. And you were celebrating.”

“True.”

He sits across from her, refilling the glass and taking another drink from it before setting it down and starting to help himself to her pancakes, which she just pushes closer to him. “How was your night? You could have joined us. We wouldn’t of minded.”

“I’m your mom, Logan.” She laughs. “I think the me going to your friend's parties ship sailed a few years ago.”

“Yeah, but you're awesome. We like having you around.”

“I know.” She smiles. “I wasn’t in the mood to watch all of you get wasted.”

“Fair.” he says around a bite of pancake, which she sends him a look for and he quickly swallows the food. Giving her a smile that says sorry.

“So, how was your night?”

“It was good.” She tells him, spearing a piece of fruit with her other fork. “I came back to the hotel, had a drink, and then got dinner with Max.”

His brows press together. “Max?”

“Verstappen.” She clarifies. “Red Bull is staying here as well, he saw me at the hotel bar and asked if he could join me for some food.”

“You went on a date?”

Her eyes narrow at him. “It wasn't a date.”

“You went on a date.” He scrambles for his phone. “Oscar is never gonna believe it.”

“I go on dates.”

“Momma, you’ve gone on like five dates. And two of those were before you turned eighteen.”

She scowls at him. “It wasn’t a date. We just got dinner.” She insists.

“Uh huh.” He says, clearly not believing her. “Did he pay?”

“Yes.”

“Pull your chair out, help you with your coat, anything like that?”

Her mind flashes back to Max helping her get out of his car, his insistence on opening doors for her. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean,”

Logan continues. “Did he walk you to your hotel room? Say that he had a good time and he’d like to do it again?”

“Oh.”

Logan grins at her, smug, as he finishes typing out a text to Oscar. “You went on a date last night.”

“I went on a date last night.” And she doesn’t mention the fact that a new number resides in her phone.

—

“Logan!”

He stops at the sound of his name, turning to look behind him, where Max Verstappen is nearly jogging to catch up with him. “Max.” He greets, when the older driver is next to him, nerves filling him at the eyes of said driver on him, along with how a few other drivers are also looking at the pair, shock and surprise clear on their faces.

“Hey.” Max grins. “How are you feeling about the track?”

He looks at the older driver in confusion. They had just left the drivers briefing, why was he asking him this? Alex had already spoken about how the team was feeling about Monaco. “The car won’t be the best here, but we said that in Miami, so we’re hoping to repeat that here. Alex has a good chance at ending in a point scoring position.” He reiterates what he's been told and what he’s been telling the press.

“But how are you feeling about it?”

Logan stares at the Dutchman, eyes flickering around trying to see if cameras are there, if his momma is there, but there isn’t anyone. The other drivers are already gone, so are the FIA people. It’s just him and Max. “Y’know you don’t have to talk to me because you went out with my mom.”

He expects relief, like that one dick Jase, and really who puts that on a birth certificate, but Max just frowns. “I know, I don’t have to.”

Logan swallows around the lump in his throat, “right.” Turning around, he starts to walk, somehow knowing that the other driver will join him. “It’s a tricky track, it’s Monaco. I was here last year and I barely got in the points.”

“P10 and P9.”

He throws the driver a look, because that was too much to know, but Max is just looking at him, encouraging him to continue. “The car isn’t suited for it. I mean it wasn’t for Miami, but this is different. And I’m still not managing my tyres correctly, so even if I did manage to gain positions, I’d get called in to pit and lose them.”

Max huffs out a laugh. “You are a rookie in a Williams, it’s impressive that you’ve already gotten points. If you could manage your tyres, when sometimes even I struggle, well I’d put you in Checo’s seat.”

“Not yours?”

He laughs again, “No. I’m a bit better at it than Checo.”

Logan couldn’t really deny that.

“Do you want some advice? On the tyres?”

Logan quickly nods. “I’ll take anything I can get.”

“Don’t fight the car too much on the turns. If you need to get it to turn properly or without going on the brakes too soon, fight it. But when you don’t, let the car be stable, keep it fluid. When you come out of the corner, press harder. It might feel like you’ll go into the wall, but you won’t.”

“And if I go into the wall?”

Max laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. “I think you're a better driver than that mate.”

—

“How are you doing that in the turns?”

Logan looks up from his notebook, where he’d been scribbling a bunch of random words. Looking at the screen, he watches his own onboard. He thinks about saying that it was Max that told, but no one at Williams liked hearing about Red Bull, especially with Alex in the room. “Just something I thought I’d try.”

“Well, it was good, continue doing it. We may have ended up out of the points, but we got close.”

Logan nods. Even with his five-second penalty, he had still kept fourteenth, and Alex ended up in twelfth. “Will do.”

—

Max had thought about her in his apartment a lot, an embarrassing amount. He had also pictured it very differently. A nice dinner, wine, even though a majority of it made his nose wrinkle, perhaps some kissing on his couch as a movie plays that they both don’t care about.

He hadn’t expected lunch, with juice that he’s trying to figure out how he’s never had it when he’s lived in Monaco for so many years, and a somewhat serious conversation, though maybe he has been expecting that one or rather anticipating it.

“I like you, Max.”

He flushes, “I like you too.” He really did, even though his mother was going to have a heart attack when she found out how much older Pan was than him.

“And I want to continue doing this.” She gestures between them with her free hand that isn’t being held in his.

“So,” sensing that there’s something she wants to say.

“I’m a mom.”

He blinks at her words, panic starting to fill him. He thought he’d made that clear that he knew that, understood that. He always made sure to ask about Logan. He even had Logan’s number now after talking to him about how he felt about the Monaco track. “I know.”

“Logan is important to me.”

Oh, god, did Logan not like him?

“The most important thing to me. And if we're going to continue to do this, I just need you to know that. He’s always going to be my first priority.”

“Of course.” Relief fills him, his heart slows from its frantic beating. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

She stares at him, trying to gauge how truthful he’s being before nodding. “Okay.”

“Did you think that I didn’t know that?”

She shakes her head immediately. “No, it’s just. I don’t really do this.” She laughs. “Dating, relationships. Logan pointed that out to me, so I don’t really know how this goes and I just had to make it clear, put it on the table now.”

“I don’t really do this either.” He hesitates to ask his next question, but does. “Logan’s father. What was your relationship with him like?”

Her face screws up in disgust. “Ew.”

He laughs, not expecting that reply or that word to sum up a relationship. But fair enough.

“I mean the idea of a relationship between me and Logan’s father is gross. Logan’s,” she pauses, seeming to settle on a different word. “Birth parents are my aunt and uncle.”

“His what?” He could have sworn she said birth parents, but that couldn’t be right.

“His birth parents.” She looks at him, concerned. “I adopted Logan when I turned eighteen. Did you think I gave birth to him?”

“No.” He says, shaking head and clearing his throat. “Of course not.”

She stares at him, lips pressed together.

He sighs, slumping in his seat, eyes closing. “I may or may not have thought you were just a really, really young looking forty-something year old woman.”

She immediately bursts into laughter and his eyes fly open at the sound. “You thought?”

“The graphic for the race footage says you are his mother, I did not think otherwise. I just thought you looked great for your age.” He defends, a little embarrassed, but delighted by the expression on her face and her laughter that is still filling his ears.

“I am his mother, just adopted.”

“Not that either of you see it that way.”

“No.” She shakes her head, laughing one last time before calming down.

“No. Logan’s mine, he’s been mine practically since he was born. It just wasn’t seen that way legally until I was eighteen and custody got signed over to me.”

“Of course.” He then flashes her smile, “So can I ask how old you are?”

She laughs, nodding. “Yes, Max. I think just this once it’s better to ask a lady her age than assume it.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-nine.”

He looks at her with new eyes, the age making much more sense. “I would’ve said twenty-five.”

“Really? I think you would’ve said forty-something.”

“How was I to know?” He throws his free hand in the air at the tease, his other still holding hers.

—

“Hi, baby.” She greets when Logan stumbles out of his room, practically still asleep, as he drops onto the couch.

“Momma.” He whines, resting his head on her lap and turning his face to press it into her stomach, trying to block out the sun.

Her fingers brush through his hair as she forces her body to stay relaxed. It was always a fight when he did this.

She hated that her body didn’t bear any signs of being pregnant before, no stretch marks around her belly. She hated that she hadn’t actually gotten to carry Logan no matter how impractical it was, unless of course she was as old as Max had thought she was. She smiles at the memory of how flustered Max had looked when he realized her actual age.

He mumbles something and she turns his face away from her stomach.

“What?”

“How was your date last night?”

Her smile widens. “It was good.”

“Yeah?”

She nods.

“Did you see Jimmy and Sassy?”

“No.” She runs her hand over his forehead, knowing that he’s thinking of Sooty. “We should talk though after you’ve had some breakfast.”

“About what?”

“Breakfast first.”

“What do we need to talk about?” Logan asks nearly thirty minutes later, his fruit bowl all gone and his coffee on its way to be there as well.

She swallows, hands flexing. “Max.”

“What about Max?”

She sighs. “Well, baby, him and I talked about becoming serious last night. But that’s not gonna happen until I know how you feel.”

“You know, I’m okay with it.”

“I know you're okay with me dating, but this is a bit more complicated. Max is on the grid with you and we’re talking about a relationship.”

Logan eyes widen a bit at the word relationship. “I mean, how does Max feel about it? About being with someone who has a kid on the grid?”

He asks knowing it will give him time to figure out how to tell her how he feels and because he wants to know, he kind of wants Max to be okay with it. He likes Max, and not just as a driver. The older driver is kind and funny, he also looks at his mom like she’s the sun, he makes her happy and that’s enough to put him in Logan’s good books. His mom deserves the best and he thinks from what little he’s seen, from how much more happy his mom has been (and god that was weird, because it wasn’t even like she wasn’t happy before) that Max might be the best for her. And Max now every time he sees Logan is always stopping to talk to him even if it’s just for a second to say a quick hi.

“Max is good with it. He knows that you're my number one and that’s never going to change.”

Logan flushes at the words.

“He also likes you, thinks you're a good kid.” She lets out an amused huff as the word kid leaves her mouth. It was odd to hear Max describe Logan that way, with only five years between them. But at the same time she knew it came from being practically a veteran in the sport. Max was coming up on ten years in Formula 1 despite his young age.

He flushes even more. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. “He always asks about you, it’s really sweet. And he knows to that if you aren’t comfortable with this or need more time then that’s what will happen.”

“I am an adult.”

“You are.” She was sadly well aware of that fact. “But you are my baby, my kid. I couldn’t be in a relationship with someone if you didn’t like them or if it made you uncomfortable.”

He nods. “I’m okay with it. Max makes you happy, he’s nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

—

She lets out a giggle as arms wrap around her from behind, lips pressing against her cheek. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Another kiss is pressed to her cheek. “Can I help?”

She glances down at what she’s finishing up. “No. You could set the table, though?”

“Done.” A kiss is pressed to her temple and then the blanket of heat that covered her back is gone. “What cabinet?”

“First one entering the kitchen on the left.” She says, turning her head a bit to watch as Max pulls the dishes out.

Her mouth goes a little dry as she watches him. His t-shirt is tight around his biceps and chest. His skin is a little tanned after their date a few days ago on a friend's yacht. She forces her eyes to not look at his hands, instead trailing them up to his strong shoulders and neck and then to his face. Max, she thinks as he starts to put the plates on the table, is unfairly attractive. Before he can catch her staring, she checks on the final thing on the stove. “Perfectly done.” She mumbles with a smile.

The sound of the front door opening makes her smile grow wider as she grabs a pot holder.

“Am I late?”

“Just on time.” She tells Logan as he steps into the kitchen.

“Can I,”

She stops him before he can continue. “No, go wash up.”

“Alright.” He bends a little to press a kiss to her cheek before turning on his heel, offering a wave to Max. “Hi.”

“Hi, Logan.”

Picking up the pan, she shakes her head as Max goes to try and take it from her.

“Logan and you are both going to get on too well.”

“Why’s that?” He asks, a twinkle in his eye.

“You both don’t like when I lift anything.”

“What’s the point of having a son or a boyfriend, then?” Logan says, clapping Max on the shoulder as he comes back.

Max grins at the younger, delighted as he claps him back. “Exactly. We feel a bit neglected.”

She rolls her eyes, shaking her head, though a smile is stretching across her lips.

—

Max watches amused as the mother and son argue.

“Mom, it would be for two races, two, that’s it.”

“One race, really.” Max chimes in, smiling when she glares at him. “Spa is nice, but Zandvoort is really what I consider my home race.”

“See, it would be one race. Max wants you in his garage.” Logan says, looking at the other driver, begging for him to help but at the last sentence Max shakes his head.

“I never said that. Well, I would like to see Pan in my garage, not for the whole weekend, or even a day. She’s part of your team.”

Logan looks at him, bewildered. “But, it’s your home race.”

He shrugs. “I’d like for her to stop by, you as well. I already have it cleared with the team. Staying for even a whole session though just doesn’t make any sense. I don’t need her on my side of the garage to know that she’s supporting me, wanting me to do well, not when you are on the grid.”

“Are you sure?”

Max smiles at Logan, because yes he was sure. Did he want her there, supporting him? Maybe even dressed in something with his number? Of course. But, he liked seeing her in Logan’s garage. Supporting him, wearing his merch, being a mom. “I’m more than sure.”

“Besides,” she says, drawing both of their attention. “Max and I haven’t gone public yet. Or really told anyone yet.”

—

“Well, this is a bit of an odd one.” Laura says as they stop in front of the Red Bull garage.

The cameraman focuses on what she’s looking at.

“Both Logan Sargeant and his mother, better known as Pan from Formula 2 fans, are in the Red Bull garage, currently talking with our current championship leader Max Verstappen, his engineer GP, and Daniel Ricciardo.”

“Shall I see if I can steal one of them away?” Will asks, smiling at the camera as he holds the F1 TV microphone loosely.

“Please.” She gestures.

Will steps towards the garage smiling at the small group hovering just inside. “Could I steal one of you for a quick minute?”

The five exchange a look and Will stops himself from rolling his eyes at the way they all look annoyed at the idea, but Logan nods. “Sure.”

“Thank you.”

He watches as Logan says something quietly to them, getting nods from them all. His brow furrows when Max squeezes his shoulder before the younger driver gives his mom a quick hug, making him shake his head. Logan Sargeant was an absolute mommy’s boy and it was embarrassing as all hell to see. He couldn’t imagine being twenty and hugging his mom in public, let alone all those videos and photos of him reaching for her hand.

Will ignored the part of him that did think it was sweet and felt bad for the kid. He couldn’t look all sappy while filming, especially not when in front of the Red Bull garage.

“Hi everyone.” Logan greets, taking the third mic from the newest crew member.

“Hello, Logan. How are you feeling about this weekend?”

He smiles at Laura. “I’m feeling okay, I’ve raced here before, obviously not in an F1 car, but I do have some experience with this track.”

“And you and your mum’s visit to the Red Bull garage, should we expect an announcement of you switching teams?” She teases.

“No.” He laughs. “No, uh, just visiting for personal reasons. Saying hello to Daniel, wishing Max a good home race.”

“I mean, I’m not sure, he needs it.” Will jokes, gaining a few laughs. “So, no business to be done at Red Bull? Just saying a hello and wishing a good race to a fellow driver.”

“Yeah,” he pauses, looking back at the garage where it’s just Max and his mom standing now watching him with smiles on their faces. It’s only that he continues when his mom gives a brief nod, one barely able to be seen by the camera. “And I wasn’t just wishing a fellow driver good luck.”

“Oh?”

Logan grins, looking pleased with himself. “I was wishing my new dad good luck.”

—

“Carlos Sainz is a cunt.”

Max freezes at her words, hand still on the doorknob from just stepping into the room.

“Hi, schat.”

“Carlos Sainz is a cunt.” She repeats.

His brain is scrambling because what exactly had Carlos done but also why was it so attractive to her say the word cunt. It had to be the accent, he decided quickly, still trying to figure out the Carlos thing. “And why is Carlos a cunt?” He finally asks, releasing the door knob and stepping further into the room.

She’s on her laptop, rapidly typing something, and he can feel anger radiating off her.

“That bullshit he spewed, blaming Oscar’s inexperience.” She scoffs, pausing her typing as she shakes her head. “It was an incident, a racing incident, something he knows a lot about. There was no inexperience fault.”

“Oscar’s okay?” He already knows that he is, but knows it's good to ask.

“He’s good. He knows that it's a racing incident.”

Max winces. Wonders for a second if he should warn Carlos to keep his mouth shut, but shrugs. It wasn’t his fault that Carlos was getting in trouble because he couldn’t watch his mouth or correctly look at footage. “Can I help?”

She sighs, hitting close on whatever she was writing in. “No.” She then closes her laptop, turning to face him, with a smile. “Hi. Congrats on the win.”

“Thank you.” He bends to kiss her. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just,” she waves her hand at her laptop, “stuff.”

“Anything I can help with?”

She starts to shake her head no as he sits on the edge of the bed, but she stops.

“Actually, could I get your insight on something? Not just as a driver, but as someone who lives and breathes racing, loves data, really knows how the sport works.”

“Of course. What’s going on?”

Another sigh leaves her, hand coming up to rub at her mouth for a second before it drops. “Why would a team not resign a driver?”

His eyebrows furrow, because she knows the reasons, but he answers. “Not performing well, they want out of the team or sport, sponsorship issues.”

“The driver wants to stay in the sport and the team.” Her lips turn downwards a bit at the word team. “And the driver brought new sponsorships to the team.”

“They have to be not performing well.”

“They’re a rookie in a back marker team.”

“They have to be really performing badly.” Max says, trying to think of who in Formula 2 or 3 she’s talking about.

“They already have six points and have placed ahead of their experienced teammate three times.”

His mind is scrambling again, trying to find a reason, because what? “How many does his teammate have?”

“Nine.”

“I have no idea. Not unless there’s conflict within the team.”

She shakes her head.

“Is there potentially a more experienced driver for the spot?”

She shakes her head. “They’re looking at another rookie or maybe someone who stepped away from the series for a year, though they’d rather take a rookie than him.”

“I don’t have an answer for you. It doesn’t make sense to me.”

She nods, expression falling and she’s rubbing at her face.

“What’s going on?” He asks, standing up just to crouch down in front of her, taking her hands in his.

“The driver’s Logan.”

“What?”

“Williams isn’t sure they want to offer Logan another year.”

Max stares at her. “How?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs, laughing. “There’s talks of them signing whoever wins this F2 championship or even the runner-up depending on who it is. Logan’s making too many mistakes.”

“He’s costing them too much money.” Max fills in the blank, shaking his head. “That’s ridiculous. Don’t take a rookie if you can’t afford it. You are supposed to account for the worse. And he’s doing well. It’s not his fault that they built a shit car.”

“I don’t know what to do.” She admits, voice just a whisper, and his heart clenches painfully at the sound of it, at the tears in her eyes. “This is his dream. I don't know what to do if that gets taken away from him.”

“It won’t. We’ll figure something out.” He tells her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

—

“I think I’m spoiled.” Max says, watching as she gets ready for bed. A faint feeling of arousal pooling his gut as she pulls on one of his shirts. He absentmindedly wonders if it would be weird to wear it tomorrow to the track, the scent of her lotion clinging to it.

“Why’s that, honey?”

He smiles, cheeks a bit pink, and that arousal builds a bit more at the pet name, at the way she shifts in the vanity chair to loosen some tension in her back. “You come to every race, you see me win, you celebrate them, you got to see me win my third championship today.” Those words feel weird off his tongue, today, but totally sober to celebrate. He wants desperately for tomorrow to come, for the race to finish so they can celebrate, him, her, Logan, the team.

“I guess you are a bit spoiled.”

He gasps, clutching at his heart, making her giggle.

“That’s okay though.” She says, getting up and moving onto the bed, straddling him. “I think I like you spoiled.”

He groans as she dips her head, pressing a kiss to the flutter of his pulse. “Schat.” It's a warning to stop and a plea for more.

“I know.” She kisses the spot a bit firmer. “Celebrations will have to wait just a day longer.” She then rolls off him, his arm immediately lifting so she can press against his side.

“It’s cruel to win with a sprint race.”

She snorts, “A sprint race never stopped us before.”

“It’s cruel to win with a sprint race in Qatar.” He amends.

“Very true.”

He sighs, staring at the ceiling as he calms down, luckily the feeling of her fingers tapping along his stomach not making it harder.

“How’s Logan feeling?” Max asks, remembering how pale he looked when they got dinner.

She sighs, moving somehow closer. “Not great. No fever, but his stomach is still a bit upset.”

He winces. “He gonna be okay tomorrow?”

“I hope so. The team knows that he’s sick, they’ll make the right choice.”

“I hope so.” He echoes, wishing that Logan felt better, hoping that he feels better by the time the race starts.

—

“We are confident in him.” Max scoffs, tossing his phone aside.

“I know.”

“Logan still wanting to do his new routine.”

She nods, lips pursed.

He shakes his head. “He did good.” It wasn’t the rookie season that Oscar had, but it couldn’t be. Oscar got lucky enough to get a seat in a near top team, while Logan got one with a back of the grid team that was sometimes midfield.

Logan scoring ten points, getting himself to sixteenth in the standings, tied with Bottas in the standings, was very good for a rookie. It was a shame that Williams seemed to think he could’ve and should have done better. At least, Max thinks, the 2025 grid was wide open for possibilities.

“Are him and Oscar still joining us?”

She throws him a look. “Us?”

“You.” He amends, knowing that despite him joining her, he’d get caught up in Redline and different things. He was just happy she didn’t mind that.

“Only for a few days and then they both are off to Australia.”

“Will Logan be joining us for Florida?”

“Yes. My mom has been asking the next time she’s going to see her only grandchild.”

Max laughs at the eye roll. “So, Belgium first, then Monaco,”

“You go to Milton for a day after.”

He nods, “then Greece, Florida, Monaco.”

“Not bad for the first few weeks of winter break.”

“Not bad at all.” He agrees, wrapping his arms around her waist, chest pressed against her back.

It’s quiet between the couple as Max sways them.

“Max.”

“Yes?”

“Your mom, she does know that I’m not in my forties right? Or thirties?” She figured that the woman did, but she also had only briefly gotten to meet her at the one race, and there had been an odd expression on her face when Max introduced her as his girlfriend.

He freezes.

“Max.”

“I knew I forgot something.”

@ohtous @cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @quackquackhun @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67 @namgification @asphalstead @poppyflower-22 @racingheartsposts @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803

[tojbnuy]

cupcake (1)

mechanic!toji x baker!reader

art by @_jtvll

there was a child grabbing your pant leg. your hands were full to the brim with trays of cupcakes, all freshly iced and ready to be placed into neat rows to serve. you usually hate this part of your job and the small hand stopping you from walking was not helping.

‘hey uhm could you maybe let go?’

you still were unable to look down at the person/thing(?) grabbing a hold of you as the trays in your arms were stacked far too high.

‘right well okay’ and you had to resort to placing the cupcakes on a nearby shelf. upon looking down you saw.. a baby? well a toddler? you didn’t know many kids, with only one niece you would assume this kid was around about her age. 3 maybe 4? he still had a firm grip on the leg of your trouser and was smearing left over icing onto your pants from his sticky fingers.

‘cake.’ he said with pink icing stuck to his lips and chin. the boy was adorable. big sparkly eyes and black hair sticking out in every direction. he was wearing a shirt that said ‘dad’s best friend’ and tiny blue sneakers.

‘you want more cake?’ you replied and he was quick to nod his head vigorously, his hand Still gripped tightly onto you.

‘alright buddy i can give you a cake. but you really shouldn’t be behind here this is staff only. where’s your mum?’

you bent down to his eye level after retrieving a cupcake from your fresh batch and waited for any sort of answer. either he had no clue what anything you said meant or he was too entranced by the cupcake you were wielding in his direction but the boy said nothing, just stared at you with his massive eyes.

‘god now what do i do?’

you were fairly new to this bakery, it was a busy branch with a computer cafe joint on so there was always a large amount of people in store. and now you had to match one of them to this baby.

‘well you eat while i think.’

and the kid watched with a great level of focus as you peeled the wrapper of the cake off and handed him the little treat.

‘what’s your name baby?’

‘megumi’

‘wow that’s a cute name’

he clearly didn’t speak much and resorted to simply staring at you with his cheeks full of cake and even more icing decorating his lips.

you opened your hands to him in a way of saying ‘i’m going to pick you up now’ and when he didn’t seem to object you picked up the tiny boy and placed him on your hip.

‘don’t worry i’ll make sure you get back to your parents.’ again met with radio silence.

‘dada’

‘oh you came with your dada?’

‘dada.’

and only then did you realise the boy was staring out the window at a black haired, clearly frazzled man.

‘megumi? megs buddy please come back now, fucks sake.’ the back door was shoved open and by instinct you clutched the small boy to your chest.

‘megumi oh my fucking- thank god’ and as the man reached for the boy you gently tucked him into your neck. the man immediately frowned and looked you up and down as you did the same. well clearly the boy must be his judging off megumi recognizing him and there was also the fact that they looked exactly the same. except this man was tall and handsome and built like a marble statue. but you still wanted to make sure.

you watched as said man eyed you up and down and for some unknown reason you were incredibly thankful you had worn makeup and washed your hair this morning. your work uniform was bland, a pink half apron and the same baggy jeans and white top you usually wore when you knew you’d be icing cakes instead of serving customers.

‘listen kid, thanks for finding him but i am his dad, look i’ve even got pictures.’

and sure enough he was whipping out his phone and showing you his lockscreen of the boy you were holding in the same shirt with a black puppy in his lap. he then proceeded to open his photos app and show you a few more, some dating a few years back to when megumi was only a newborn.

‘dada’

‘yeah look see i’m his dad’

you believed the man the second you saw his face.

‘right okay i believe you, i don’t even know how he got back here i just turned around and he was grabbing me asking for cake. oh and also im not a kid im 22.’ you felt the need to clarify.

he smiled at that and took his child out of your hands.

‘sorry about that, but i’m glad it was you he bumped into not some creep. i was holding his hand and then i look down and he wasn’t there. the things this boy does when he sees cake’

you laughed and went to pick up your trays again when a large hand grabbed your arm and turned you back.

‘ah wait doll i’ve got to you pay you for the damage this little brats done, and to say thank you.’ he stuffed a few notes into the pocket of your apron.

‘it was just a cupcake it’s no big deal’ you said as you tried to hand them back to him without looking incredibly flustered at the use of a nickname.

‘no i insist, you really saved my ass. you work here often?’

‘yeah i’m usually at the counter but sometimes i just bake and ice the cakes.’

‘well clearly this brat thinks you do a good job’

‘so that means you’ll be back again i’m assuming?’

he smirked at that and your eyes were immediately drawn to the scar decorating his lip. his presence was intimidating, you could feel your cheeks flushing at his intense gaze.

‘yes definitely, i actually own the mechanics down the road so if you ever have any trouble make sure you let me know i’ll do you a nice deal’

‘i’ll keep that in mind uh?’

‘toji’

‘i’ll keep that in mind toji. i’m y/n’

he swapped his son to his other hand and stuck his right hand out for you to shake. you palm felt small in his large veiny one, his skin warm to the touch.

‘pretty name.’ he was checking you out again and you felt so small under his gaze. this was wrong, he was older than you and most likely had a wife or a girlfriend or a long term ex. this was definitely not going to become anything. but that didn’t stop you from giving him a few cupcakes for the road.

[sexbot300]

telling them they have a small dick!

pairing: toji x reader, gojo x reader (separate)

⤷ 18+, MDNI

tw: man-handling, p in v, unprotected sex, power play, cunnilingus, falsetto, huge dick (come on now), mentions of creampie, orgasms, degrading/dirty talk, slight size kink if you squint, text format for gojoe.

a/n: this was so funny to write i cant stop laughing. this was longer than i expected, i will be making a part two with choso, geto, and nanami if asked for. originally it was meant to include them but this is a bit tew long. I actually like this more than anything i’ve ever written before :’) comments r more than welcome thank uuuuu. luv u all xoxo (felt things while writing this, it’s funny that I think it’s my best work)

═════════════════════

Toji ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ Reading your diary

Toji Fushiguro pissed you off. There were no ifs and buts or any way around it. As much as you adored being friends with Megumi and spending time near the stoic guy, coming by his house felt entirely dreadful. Mutual friends frequently visited his abode, leaving and visiting often without a sliver of complaint leaving their diction. ‘Maybe I was truly the problem.’ A thought had snuck up in the crevices of your brain until the mental image of why you didn’t come over as often decided to grace you with his presence. A shiver traveled up north of your spine, straightening yourself out mentally and physically. ‘Nah. That doesn’t sound right. I am NOT the problem.’ 

Toji was everything Megumi was not; cocky, arrogant, and trying to start anything with anyone if they remotely looked in his direction the wrong way. Was he hot? Of course. Would you ever admit it to the bastard? Of course, you wouldn’t. This is why what unfolds before you felt as if some cruel divine punishment, curated by the highest demon in the belly that cradled hell, deciding today would be the day to toy with you.

Closing your phone with a little, ‘Ding!’ Megumi had sent a text earlier entailing that something of your belonging had been left behind. Strangely enough, even he didn’t know what it was, which left a question of perplexity. All he knew was that his dad found it and to alert you about it. 

A sigh that had built up in the depths of your chest left, as you stood behind the mahogany-colored door. Praying that Megumi would just give the item so a beeline can be made as far as legs can sprint. Bringing a hand to the door, tapping with a fist, “Megumi? It’s me.”

With a shuffling heard from inside the house, the sound of the door unlocked and a slow swing revealed no one behind it. Stepping inside carefully and scooping out the area, an eyebrow raised as the familiar setting had no one in eyesight. Closing and locking the door behind, your voice even more confused, “Megumi? Hello? I thought you’d be here.” 

In plain eye view, coming around a corner stood the looming presence of a man that was hard to ignore. Leaning up against the counter behind, a protein shake in hand as his body seems depleted from a workout session. Glistening in sweat, he stood there devastatingly handsome. A simple white tank top clung onto his pectorals, highlighting the ridges of his stone-hard abs while the pump of his presumed workout caused his already massive biceps to look the size of planets. His gray sweats hung low off his slim core. He eyed you up and down as if inspecting every single thing about you.

“Oh yeah. My son's little friend was expecting you here.” He spoke in a casual tone, eyes met yours for a split second before eyeing you down in a carnal way.

Standing in place, mentally making note of killing Megumi for not being the one to give you what was missing from his home. Only leaving you to deal with his father.

He gripped something behind him his fingers grazing what seemed to be a bit lightweight. A light thud of a journal hit the island counter that stood between the pair. Eyes glancing down on what was thrown carelessly, the journal looked all too familiar.

My diary– fuck. All forms of color had drained from the hue of your face, replaced with a crimson flush. Frantically blinking up at the journal, your thoughts blared. ‘There’s no way he could’ve read it right?’ Almost sprinting at the piece of media, fingertips yanked it off the island forcibly gluing it to your chest almost to shield it from eyes it doesn’t belong to. 

Eyes darting back and forth frantically searching for relief in such a predicament, in a measly voice, “T-Thank you Mr. Fushiguro, it was very kind of you to give it back. I-I’ll be leaving now.”

He had only watched amused, but it wasn’t stated within his facial expression. If anything his demeanor was calm– his body leaned back at the counter behind him, legs crossed over one another while he wore what seemed to be a completely uninterested face.

“Smart girl. Probably read a lot, huh?” 

Clutching the diary tighter to your chest, almost impossibly close, furrowed eyebrows and a snap of a neck towards his direction. A low, barely audible, “H-huh?” 

“My favorite passage is where the narrator states that, ‘Toji is probably compensating his small dick for huge muscles.’” He chuckled deeply, taking a swing of his protein shake before setting it to the side.

Frozen in place, eyes widened, simply just going quiet. I mean– what could be said? For a moment so intense, all that ran through your mind was complete blankness.

“Kinda find it endearing how the narrator only uses vibrators on her clit because the idea of penetration ‘arouses’ yet ‘scares’ her.”

“Mr. Fushiguro did you r-rea-“ stated in an incredibly shaky voice. Embarrassed, wishing that the ground would do you good bidding and swallow you whole with no hesitation. He still looked calm, ridiculing every aspect of you, his eyes had darkened a bit due to pupil dilation.

Everything felt tense, hot, incredibly warm, a moment of heat transpiring between the two of you as eyes met one another. Except both eyes said a different story. His; was full of something that could only be described that an animal gets knowing that they had successfully captured their prey right where they were needed. Yours; full of complete self-pity, begging to be freed under the gaze of something that will eat you alive and leave no bones.

“Do you think that Toji's character might appreciate the narrator calling him ‘hot but probably hotter with his mouth shut?’” His large arms bulged, and crossed over his chest, enjoying every minute that left you squirming under his condescending gaze. You looked like something had caught your throat and any form of attitude seemed to exist on the lines written in the diary. 

Tilting his head, on cue his hair moved as well, his expression seeming bleak. “Aw, wish I could meet this narrator, express to her how far off she is from the truth. Seems the type to talk a lot but get quiet when confronted.”

With a croak of your throat you managed to speak in a weak voice, “Mr. Fushiguro I am so sor-”

A silky voice met your ears, “Megumi taught me a bit about books. You know what’s funny about narrators sometimes?”

“W-what?” Your voice croaked.

“They’re unreliable.”

“Want to know something else funny?”

Body shifting off the ledge of the counter his bulky body slowly walked, emerald eyes glancing down while you stared up with the most innocent expression. ‘Cute,’ he thought. Staring down, a waft of his natural musky scent hit your nasal passages. He towered right in front of you. His long finger gripped a loose strand of your hair, twirling it mockingly.

He juxtaposed the flustered expression drawn on your face, a grin that stretched from ear to ear, a sly expression painting a look of hunger. “Yeah,” his tongue swiped at his bottom lip, voice dropping a few octaves, “it’s tiny even.”

-

On the checklist of things you hated about Toji, you mentally jotted down that he was a liar. He was a complete liar. 

Knees blown out, nose buried deep into his neatly trimmed pubic hair, lips trying to adhere to a girth that wasn’t friendly to take down, saliva coating your chin and seeping through the cracks of the side of your lips, and mascara smeared down the sides of your cheek. 

Toji was anything but tiny. A huge hand gripped the back of your skull, yanking at the follicles of your hair bouncing your head back and forth on his dick. He had to be 8 inches at least.

Gagging and whimpers filled the air, as you pathetically took down all the length he forced down. Your eyes beaming with tears, while he looked down at yours mockingly. Eyebrows slightly furrowed at the feeling of your tight throat clinging onto his cock like a vice. He smirked staring you down as you struggle to take him in, light pants escaped from his throat as spit slowly exited his mouth, meeting the exposed part of his dick and a part of your face.

“Slow down sweetheart, shit,” a condescending laugh, “I’m not going anywhere.” He hissed in a bit feeling your tongue desperately lap up and down his cock as you took the initiative to get completely lost in the feeling. 

It was all too lewd– he had stopped guiding you by bobbing your head, but kept a firm hold; all you did was suck him as if your life depended on it. His hefty cock felt divine to the tastebuds, weighing heavy down your throat and around your tongue. Frantically allowing your tongue to brush over the large veins running throughout his shaft, your hands jerking off what you could, letting the room fill up with the wet squelches. Moaning onto his cock the vibrations cued a grunt from Toji, sucking his massive tip with a ‘pop!’ He pulled you away, noticing the whine in your face when separated from his dick. He laid it on your face, grin sprawled out. 

“You suck dick good for a girl who only gets off to filthy fantasies about a man who she hates.” 

Panting, studying him while feeling incredibly small under his stare, catching your breath. So perfect, you looked so perfect to him.

“Fuck- I could just cum looking at your face like this,” gripping your hair earning a mewl from your throat, he held onto his dick tapping the tip of your tongue repeatedly, he grinned wider noticing how you desperately leaned into every tap. “Heh, want more huh? Coulda came from your throat, rather fuck it in your little pussy instead. I could tell you were a cock-deprived whore from the start.”

All you could do was blink up at him, gulping at everything he was saying, a new wave of arousal crashing down in your panties. Eyebrows furrowed, keeping steady eye contact with him, he noticed your fucked out expression. 

“Aw? No back-talk? Seem to have a lot to run your mouth about in that little diary, girl. Do you even remember your name? Already trained you well without stretching you out? Or does it make you feel ashamed to be this wet in the house of a man you hate so much? Do you have no shame?”

“I-I’m,” you cleared your hoarse voice swallowing any bit of saliva that didn’t engulf his cock, “not wet.”

He blankly stared down at your face before a loud chuckle eroded from his body, shaking him slightly, “Darling, you’re practically dripping on my kitchen floors. You think I can’t see you clenching your thighs f’me?”

“I-it’s not for y-you, Mr. Fushiguro-“

“Cut the shit, it’s Toji. Stand up.”

Pushing your knees off the position they were in for the longest time, you whined and stumbled while Toji watched amused. Standing on your feet, wobbling, he did the honors of throwing you over his shoulder eliciting a loud gasp as your torso made contact and leaned into his broad shoulders. His fingers lightly grazed your wet folds that leaked through your leggings, causing a slight gasp.

He only chuckled again, walking to his master bedroom. “Not wet, my ass.”

-

You’re not sure what round this was, but being thrown like a rag-doll by a man who easily overpowered every aspect of you was not how you expected this visit to go. He did the honors of prepping you for hours long– edging you and making sure you were on the brink of insanity so taking his cock in would feel much more manageable. At first, you winced taking him in, but the pain subsided once the overwhelming bliss of pleasure overtook all feelings of discomfort.

Toji started by fucking his tip in, rocking back and forth to let you become accustomed slightly. He quickly learned that you were nothing more than a cock-deprived whore.

“T-toji, y-you’re, ah! Breakin’ me!”

“Good.” His face had a wild expression, grinning ear to ear, his long onyx hair clinging to parts of his forehead from sweat while the rest dangled in your face. This man just found his new favorite plaything, he’d be damned to stop this. 

Toji had you mangled in a mating press, feet planted firmly into his mattress, feeling every last bit of dick he could give. Holding your thighs back with large hands, he drilled into your poor cunt, legs hanging off his broad shoulders, the sounds of skin-on-skin vibrating in the room alongside his pants, and your loud moans.

“T-toji, ah! I-I’m sorry, t-too,” a deeper thrust sent a harsh quiver from your lips while his lips dropped low to your ear, “Too! Big! Cant!”

Grunting into your ear, the same smirk plastered on his face. He angled himself even deeper, never stopping the rhythm, slamming his inches into you. All you could do was take it and moan desperately. Head thrown back while eyes rolled back into your skull. 

“Don’t” thrust, “care.” He stated casually in your ear while his voice grew huskier, “Gonna fuck my cum into this lil’ ah, fuck, pussy. Make sure it only learns how to take me in.” He chuckled while he never stopped drilling, he pulled all the way out, leaving only the tip in. Causing you to pant rapidly at the loss of dick, hating how empty yet incredibly full you felt just from his tip alone.

“P-Please, please Toji, please,” fingers dug into his biceps in a fucked out voice, “don’t stop.”

“Aw,” he placed his forehead atop yours, mockingly cooing at the mess you’ve become. “Why should I let you cum?” He whispered now, lips ghosting over your own, “Had a lot to say about me being tiny but your greedy little cunt is both clinging onto me and stretching out. Disgusting girl” 

“I’m so so so so sorry, Toji I promise I’ll be good, I’ll be so good.” Frantically scanning over his face, your body still throbbing from the positions he put you in. Meanwhile, he felt just as warm to the touch, the feeling of sex coated him entirely his composure not faltering.

Wrapping a strong hand around your throat he tightened his grip as he pummeled right into you at once, body jerking forward at the sudden stretch. A loud gasp and moan abruptly left your mouth. Before he could continue pumping into you, his lips still hovering over yours, he had a cocky smile still etched onto his face.

“Sent Megumi off with his little friends, they’re having a sleepover.” His smirk deepened, “Oh don’t worry, you’ll be proving to me how good of a whore you’ll be for me all night.” He scoffed, “Maybe then in your little diary you can write about how good I fuck you.” He pulled out yet again, suddenly feeling his body weight push off your body entirely, making you whine at the loss of sensation in your cunt and body. In an instant, he flipped you over.

Back arched completely, chest pressed down into the sprawled-out duvet, legs spread out ready for him to obliterate all self-dignity you had left, his knee pushed into the bed behind you. Placing his socked foot in the back of your head, he gripped his cockhead dragging it along your puffy folds. Moaning slightly at the feeling of contact as he circled his massive tip around your clit, your eyes fluttered shut again. Drool seeped through the sides of your mouth not caring that this man had stolen all sense of respect you once held for yourself.

“Now,” his voice husky again grunting as his cock slowly teased at your entrance before shoving it in at a tantalizing pace. Staring in awe at your hole as it glistened, hearing your cunt squelch around his thick width, “Hear her for me?” Physically tightening at the words he just said, he let out a slight grunt.

“Mhm,” you let out a mangled noise which caused him to chuckle, feeling his foot press deeper onto the back of your head while your fingers desperately gripped at the sheets below. 

“Maybe,” he pushed himself in, a wild smile on his face while he heard you whimper below, thrashing around still not used to a length this immense. “You should listen to her more often than that dumb little brain of yours princess.” 

Swiftly gripping your wrist, he firmly pinned it back at the small of your back, while rapidly thrusting in and out all at once. “Ah! Ah! T-Toji… So! Hnghhh, G-Good,” moans incredibly muffled as they were pushed into the sheets, cunt gripping onto him every time he moved in and out.

Grunting at the view of your ass clapping back at his pelvic region every time he drilled inside, your walls trying their hardest to take him. He only cackled before whistling, harshly slamming a hand down on your ass letting it recoil with a red mark left behind.

“Should’ve told you I read that stupid diary ages ago…”

═════════════════════

Gojo ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ Failed date

“Ding! New message from ‘toruu.’” The robotic voice announced in your headphones, breaking you from wallowing in your sorrowful haze.

Shuffling in your bed, trying to forget the events that unfolded earlier today, your hand reached out to your nightstand fidgeting around to find your phone. You thought maybe lying down with sad music blaring in your ears would help, but spoiler; it did not. Groaning slightly while your eyes try to adjust to the phone's brightness. A failed date equated to a failed day, lo and behold, your eccentric friend was at your side ready to wipe away any discomfort. 

Shifting your body upwards, a smile couldn’t help but be formed at his words. At the end of the day, the guy was just that, a guy. There was nothing to stress over. Was there a slight skip in a heartbeat hearing Satoru speak fondly upon you? Yes. But that’s all that there was. Risking a friendship with him wasn’t worth it in the grand scheme. He was appealing in all senses, there was no surprise that girls and boys alike flocked to him like candy. Getting laid wasn’t exactly the objective, but hanging onto things that weren’t feasible was. 

Joking with Satoru came second nature, but having him become defensive over a harmless joke startled you a bit. ‘There’s no way he’s acting like this.’ Nibbling at your bottom lip staring at him laughing in all caps. Is he being defensive? Eyes moving back and forth on the screen questioning what to say next, the conversation continued.

Snickering to yourself, ‘Oh, so he IS being defensive.’ The thought danced around in your head, rolling eyes at every other thing he texted. “There is no way he is serious,” mumbling to yourself like a madman in the dead of night alone while speaking to nothing but the screen at hand. 

A light ping indicated that your message was sent, as you glanced at the dots that appeared from his end. Breath slightly hitching at what he stated next.

Eyes widening, breath caught in throat quickly throwing the phone down face first as your face burnt. Breathing shallow breaths to catch up, time felt a bit still before shaking hands gripped the phone, and slowly brought it into your line of sight. 

My God was Satoru Gojo, huge.

His tip was a light dusty pink, almost made to be kissed, forming a beautiful head that had a bead of translucent precum decorating the slit. The shaft was thick, matching his milky pale tone and fading into an ombre ending right where the tip started. His veins were many, mapped out all around his shaft, up and down, a prominent one stood at the center. It looked heavy, he appeared to be standing up in the picture. A white-happy trail formed alongside the end of his abs and faded around into his neatly groomed bush. You blinked slowly, taking in the image of your best friend’s fat cock. He wasn’t lying. At all. He had to be pushing 8 inches and more. This was the image alone, thumb hovering slightly over the video attachment. Feeling your cunt pulsate slightly and clit growing a bit hard, shuffling some more. 

‘I can't be getting wet over my friend. This is so wrong, he’s probably joking too right? Guys do this all the time with their guy friends. Except, I’m not a guy…’

Biting the bullet and taking the initiative, clicking the video attachment was a wrong, wrong idea. Still, in the same position, his gray sweat pushed down his mid-thigh, the flash was strong in the video. In your ears, everything was heard. Still standing erect, you could hear him lightly chuckle, almost as if he was taunting you in the same room. For some reason, the slick heat flooded more, He brought his large veiny hand, placing it side by side with his cock, holy shit, it was larger than his hand. He spoke your name in a sultry voice one that sent waves crashing down your pussy, a voice that you’ve never heard before. 

“You already know how big my hand is, I mean you’ve held it before. Do with that information what you will.” You could hear the smirk in his voice before plopping on the bed before him, a soft grunt echoed in your ears. So his dick was heavy, it flopped straight on his abs which elicited a laugh on his end. 

��Sorry, I couldn't send you it while lying down. It’s a bit too heavy.” With that, the video ended. Gulping and staring dumbfounded, your fingers anxiously wrote whatever they could, trying to keep any semblance of a friendly demeanor. 

Sighing while rolling your eyes at his behavior, mentally sighing that he's back acting like the immature soul he’s always been. Guess, it’s time to rely on the good ol’ vibrator to solve this problem. Knowing him he’d probably hang this compliment over your head for eternity and that was that with this conversation, which is why what he stated startled you a bit.

Staring at the screen once more, feeling a bit anxious about his response. All that could be thought of is if the wrong thing was said to him. He’d be over the moon hearing that his cock is big as fuck, right? Sighing while dropping your shoulders and clicking the side button to shut the phone off, eyes closing once more while the back of your head met the soft headboard. 

“Ding! New message from: ‘toruu.’”

Eyes widening, the heat still pooling in your lace panties, thanking yourself for another failed date. Within ten minutes the phone was chucked out of hand, racing to get ready for his arrival even though it wasn’t the typical hangout.

Slipping on a lacy, cerulean bra and throwing it on, keeping the same undies on having a feeling that the slick wetness would be favored for you both, fixing your hair, spritzing a gourmand perfume, applying a bubble-gum colored lip gloss, and pulling on a light blue hoodie, tight black spandex shorts, with black house sandals. It wasn’t long before a certain man rang the doorbell.

Rushing to the door while maintaining some form of composure and unlocking it to be met with piercing eyes and a shit-eating grin towering over you. He wore the same sweats in the video and a black hoodie that did very little to hide his massive frame.

“Hi,” he stated in his typical voice, eyes looking over his glasses down at your face, as he put one strong arm over the doorframe. “Hello, ‘Toru…” audibly speaking so only he heard, while a light blush scattered across your face.

“Heard your date got canceled or whatever, what a bummerrrrrrr.” He rolled his eyes exaggerating his disdain due to unexpected plans. “Gonna let me in?” His voice stated in a whisper while studying the curves of your body. 

Slightly nodding, shifting to the side to let the tall figure in, a waft of his cologne hit all senses and shot straight to your core. 

While he walked in, your hand pressed against the doorframe closing it and locking it before a large hand turned you around. Gasping at the sudden feel of his hand around your waist, while the rest of your body was pushed against the door. Staring up at his face, not recognizing the look displayed on his usual happy-go-lucky face, painted a darkened expression of desire. Satoru pressed your chest against the front of his body, pushing you closer by the hand on the back of your waist. Caging you in his embrace, the other hand laid flat behind the door.

Smelling his sweet breath from the various candies he indulged in, the air hit the tip of your nose while his lips were merely inches away from your own. 

“No offense,” his voice silky, smooth, and deeper than usual, “Kinda glad this asshole bailed on you. Wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like you anyways.” His smile deepened while you responded by cupping his soft face in both hands. 

Breath a bit higher than a whisper, lips almost touching his while his grip on your waist felt stronger, “Oh, yeah ‘Toru, and you know what to do?” 

Feeling a vibration from his chest against your frame, as a laugh erupted from him, he stared into your eyes intensely. “Let me kiss your lips and show you. I think you know by now my words match up with my actions.”

Almost on command, both of you smashed your lips into one another savoring the feeling of tasting what you wanted for so long. Mutually moaning slightly upon the impact, Satoru quickly moved his large hands to caress all over your tinier frame. Ass, waist, thighs, hair, neck, his long slender fingers were everywhere, anywhere, every chance he could get to press you impossibly close to him.

Mouth agape, he took it as an opportunity to slip his tongue in, slithering it around your mouth while your tongue circled his own. Hands entangled in his hair, tilting your head, and on cue, he did the same. Tongues squelching and roaming each other's mouths as if you’ve been thirsty and the only cure was one another. His hands finally stop at your ass, giving a light squeeze before carrying you up, wrapping your legs around his torso.

Breaking away faces mimicking a blush on both faces, a string of saliva connecting your lips. Slightly panting as your forehead meets his, he stares deeply into your eyes. “Cute and all,” he says still in a haze, “but those weren’t the lips I was talking about.”

-

Hovering over his torso, while your mouth was stuffed with his huge cock. Hungrily lapping up his dick with your tongue, your hand wrapped around his base in a circular motion going up and down while your mouth struggled slightly to take the entirety of him in. Moans sent vibrations across his huge shaft, he was so big, so so so big. You loved every minute of it, it was evident with the sticky residue of cum that formed on his thighs and pubic hair from the previous rounds you’d gone. Saliva pooled on his dick, to rest on his balls and underneath his thighs. 

It was a mess, “Mhm!” You panted, separating yourself from having his cock buried down your throat but quickly attaching your lips at the head, smearing precum on like a lip product. Lapping the precum up and down the slit, before indulging his length back in. “Sa-Satoru- Ah! S-Stop!” Lips making a ‘pop!’ noise after pulling his dick from your throat, hands still echoing a wet sound as they both rapidly jerked him off.

Gojo laid on his back his face stuffed in your cunt, “Cant, ahhhh, too good,” His voice sounding hoarse. Bringing his head up even further into your slick heat, he licked long strips with his tongue from clit, hole, and ass. Both of his large hands spread your cheeks apart, your discharge soaking the bottom half of his face. He dove in head first, nose pressed directly in your pussy while his mouth harshly sucked at your clit, twirling it around his tongue effortlessly. Years of sucking on candy couldn’t compare to this. Pulling away both hands from your ass, he placed them on the front of your thighs, forcing you to sit on his face with a welp that broke away the string of moans.

Continuing to jerk him off, your eyes crossed while spitting down his length, feeling him twitch slightly under your motion. You mewled, “Mhpmh! Satoruuuuuuu!”

Harshly sucking on it before pulling away, he kissed your clit before dragging his head around in a circular motion licking all around like a madman. He closed his eyes and buried his tongue deep in your walls that tightened and contracted around him. Bobbing his head back and forth, tongue fucking your tiny hole, thumb diligently working in circles on your swollen clit. Slowly feeling your high soon approaching in waves and feeling him twitch even more violently underneath you. 

He moaned deep into your cunt while high-pitched yells escaped your throat, “Oh! Oh! Oooooh! Oh, Satoru! I’m c-cumm- ah!” Soon enough, Satoru’s face was full of liquid when your orgasm arrived. Sticking a tongue out noticing him jerk in your hands, closing your eyes, while cum painting your tongue and face. Swallowing him all while quivering from the impact of cumming all over his face.

For once in your life, this was the most quiet Satoru has ever been. 

Breaking away from your cunt, Satoru took a deep breath, laughing to himself shakily.

“Fuck, I should pay men more often not to date you.”

[shawtuzi]

request: ‘Can you please write a Toji x (blk)fem reader smut but she like one of those earthy girls with all the waist chains/beads and he like obsessed with her style and all the jewelry she wears. boho/earthy girls don’t get enough love.’

i hear you anon and i see you so here you go <333

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ cw include: drug usage (weed), oral m receiving, unprotected sex, riding, slight pussyjob, toji likes her sm so a lot of praise, PUSSYDRUNK TOJI!!!, sex outdoors (no one can see them hehe), creampie, an ‘i like you’ confession bc i’ve been watching a lot of rom coms lately///not proofread sorry :(

‘it’s a lot of lust not a lot of love’

you hummed along to the song as you made out with toji, your tongue swirling against his. your bracelets jangled against your wrist as you tugged on his soft locs, a low groan rumbling in his chest as you did so. “slow down toji, s’no rush,” you mumbled against his lips, teeth biting down the tiniest bit on his bottom lip.

toji tried to distract himself by toying with your waist beads, but it just wasn’t working. between the two blunts you both shared, along with a couple sips of wine—courtesy of you, there was just no way you expected him to be in his right mind enough for him to go slow. “i don’t want to go slow though,” he groaned, grabbing a handful of your ass over your skirt.

you kissed your teeth, now pulling away from the pouting man. you pushed him down against the blanket you had crocheted yourself, your hands now resting on his pecs. “you’re so impatient you know that? need my pussy that bad hm?” you giggled cocking your head to the side. toji gulped, his eyes finding it hard to stay locked on yours. eye contact with you was always so intense.

“yes….yes i am impatient and yes i need your pussy that bad.”

you smiled at his words, now leaning down to give him a slow kiss. you kissed your way down his jaw, to his neck, and finally down his chest. “damn….you got this worked up over a little kissing?” you teased, cupping toji over his jeans, earning a deep groan from him. toji didn’t respond, instead he just gave you the finger, too fucked out already to even come up with a proper comeback.

toji hissed when he felt you finally undo the button to his jeans, his leaking dick now free from its confinements. “go slow m’feelin’ a little sensitive,” toji grumbled and all you did was laugh, taking his throbbing dick in your hands. you gave the tip a soft squeeze, licking your lips. “now you wanna go slow? that’s funny,” you snickered, bringing his dick to your mouth, suckling the tip softly.

you ran your tip along the underside of his dick, fighting the urge to laugh again when you felt toji buck his hips up. toji wanted so badly to just push your head down, but you had just gotten your hair done a few days prior and he’d hate to cause you any discomfort. it was your first time getting passion twists and he was absolutely enamored with the way you looked with them.

“deeper—please go deeper y/n,” toji finally lifted his head up, now making eye contact with you but he reallyyyyy wishes he hadn’t. the way you were looking at him with those low, red eyes; eyelashes fluttering shut each time you took more of him in your mouth had him wanting to bust right then and there. toji felt his face flush, cheeks burning hot at the way you looked at him like he was the most precious thing to ever grace this earth—which in his opinion he wasn’t, far from it honestly.

toji’s eyes rolled back when he felt his dick hit the back of your right throat. “mmph fuck yeah—that’s that shit,” he groaned, bringing his hand to rest on the crown of your head. he didn’t grip it or apply any pressure, he just sat there and let you do what do best—suck the soul outta him.

the wind began to pick up, giving toji’s flaming cheeks a nice breeze to cool off. you made him so…so…beside himself. i mean for god sakes you had him fucking in the middle of a field of flowers, blazed out of his mind—it’s safe to say the grip you had on him was the most annoying shit ever.

“keep sucking me like that baby, f-fuck, take it deeper. be a good girl and take it deeper f’me,” you listened without protest, taking the last few inches of him in your mouth. toji was beyond fucked out, praises flying past his lips left n right and it only egged you on to turn him into even bigger pile of mush than he already was.

you pulled off of his dick with lewd pop! now paying attention to his swollen balls. toji’s body jerked, his heavy hand gripping onto your shoulder. “w—hah! w-wait y/n,” toji hissed, his jaw clenching impossibly tight. you lifted your head up, puffing air through your cheeks.

“i’m sorry i—”

“just shush toji.”

you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand before crawling up toji’s body, your lower half hovering over his twitching dick. you pushed toji down gently by his shoulders, humming to yourself at just how damn good he looked beneath you.

“you’re fuckin’ unreal,” toji sounded damn near breathless as he said it, his chest puffing up with each deep breath. his hand reached up to tug down your olive green, cropped tube top; his rough hands immediately latching onto your breasts.

“you really mean that or you jus’ fucked up?” you knew he meant it with all his heart, you just wanted to hear him say it. you blindly reached for the end of your skirt, tugging the soft material up your thighs. just as you pressed your panty clad pussy against toji’s dick he whispered the three words ‘i mean it’ in your ear, his teeth nibbling at your lobe.

the words ‘i like you’ were sitting so heavy on his tongue but he just couldn’t find the courage to tell you how he felt.

toji—a grown ass thirty four year old man who’s literally served time in the slammer was scared to tell you, a twenty something year old woman who was the literal embodiment of a fawn how he felt about you. what a joke.

“what are you thinking about?” you spoke softly, running your thumb over the stubble on toji’s jaw. toji shook his head, bringing his rough hands to your petal soft love handles.

“s’nothin.”

“liar.”

“i said it’s nothing.”

your breath hitched, mouth dropping open slightly at the feeling of toji’s dick pressed against your bare pussy. he felt so hot and soft against you and toji could certainly say the same thing about you. with one harsh tug toji ripped your thong off, tossing the semi soaked material to the side. you rlly should’ve known better with that one—toji hates whenever things are in his way.

“you’re such a liar toji,” your laugh was breathless as you began to slowly grind your pussy against toji’s dick. he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, his brows furrowing in annoyance but mostly pleasure. he was already so close it was so fucking embarrassing. pre dripped from his throbbing tip and onto his clenching abs, creating an even bigger mess between the two of you.

toji bucked his up, puffing air through his cheeks to silently tell you he was more than ready for you. you gave him a small smile, your tooth gems glistening in the afternoon sun. “can i confess something toji?” you asked, lifting yourself up to balance your weight on your feet. you grabbed toji’s dick, swiping his tip between your folds before slowly inserting it.

you both gasped in unison, toji’s eyes fluttering shut at the warmth that enveloped his cock. “w-what do you need to confess you fu—hucking brat,” he growled, his fingernails digging in the soft flesh of your thighs. in one swift movement you sat all the down, toji’s balls now pressed snugly against your backside.

“i really, really like hanging out with you toji,” your voice was a little high pitched, rightfully so because you practically feel the trembling man below you in your stomach. you pressed your hands against toji’s chest, bouncing on his dick like your life depended on it.

you brushed a stray hair out of toji’s face, cradling his jaw in your palm that still smelled of the shea butter you applied before your outing. “you like hanging out with me too toji? you like me?” your tone was coming off a tad desperate but you could’ve cared less. toji’s adam’s apple bobbed, a pathetic whine bubbling in his throat.

“yes.”

“yes what?”

toji wrapped his arms around your waist, his feet planting into the ground before fucking up into you. “yes i fucking l-like you y/n, could you not—shit! fucking tell? jesus christ your pussy is so good,” toji couldn’t help the drool that slipped past his lips, it was impossible to keep his mouth shut at this point. your hands found themselves in toji’s hair, tugging roughly at the soft strands.

“i knew you did i just wanted to hear you say it. i like you too toji.”

i like you too toji.

toji halted his movements, his dick now in you to the hilt. you suddenly felt a warm sensation in your lower half and knew immediately that toji was in the process of cumming. you circled your hips as best as you could, milking him for all he was worth.

“hah f-fucking shit i can’t stop fucking cumminggg,” he groaned, burying his face in your sweet smelling neck; the scent of vanilla and caramel had him feeling more dizzy than he already was.

after giving toji a few minutes to catch his breath you sat up, his dick still sheathed inside of you. “look how messy,” you spread your lips, giving toji a mouthwatering view of your overly stuffed pussy. toji licked his lips, reaching over to down the rest of the wine that was in your abandoned glass.

“lemme clean you up.”

[rubyarerosies]

what would lowkeyartist!sukuna do and react if his wife and kids identity was revealed🤨

for dramatics, i feel like the way his family’s identity is revealed is most likely from an inside source. His hair stylist, probably new to his team wouldn’t do it intentionally, he’s probably taking a video and in the background is clear view of you and Sukuna entertaining your son. And so the video spreads and everyone starts to investigate.

Sukuna would most likely not hear about it until you come back from picking up your son from daycare with Toji.

“What happened? Why’re you crying?” you’re huffing, hair is frizzled than how it normally looks, and the gloss over your eyes concern him immensely. He takes your son into his arms, the little boy not knowing about the turmoil his mother is facing while he sleeps. You’re happy he was, because then he wouldn’t be so scared of the crowd that seemed to surround him half and hour ago.

“Your little fan base knows about them now,” Toji spoke up, walking through the door with your sons bag and car seat (you left your car at the daycare, calling Toji to come pick you up so that the fans don’t stalk your car all the way home. Toji most definitely took a different route to your house than usual)

Sukuna stares confused, his hold on his son faltering a little bit, Toji continues, “they were at his daycare, it was a big crowd, Ryomen,”

“Fuck,” he whispers, his arm coming around your shoulder so he could pull you into a soft embrace, he kisses apologies into your hairline, saying he’ll fix this, “go wash up, I’ll go see what I can do,”

The next day he goes live and everyone notices how disappointed, angry, and upset he looks. He’s not in his studio, but a room at his agency. It’s a rough, 15-25 minute video - he’s already planned out what he’s going to say by the help of Toji and his media team (Toji insisted he needed to be professional about this or else it wouldn’t be taken seriously or well - despite his lack of care for how offended the media would be, a voice in his mind reminded him of his family back home)

He thanks everyone for supporting him so far and for giving him the content life he has now, but he firmly admits that he doesn’t like mixing up the two together. “my private life is to not be shown carelessly online, my family is to stay offline,”

He over goes the incident that happened at the day care and affirms that he will be taking legal action against accounts, websites etc that post those videos or photos - “my wife and son are normal people too, I expect everyone to treat them as such or else me and my team will take legal action,”

“I hope you all come understand why I’ve come off offensive right now, my family is very important to me and I’m not afraid to drop this career for them.”

[slut4nicholas]

𝙊𝙃, 𝙁𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝙄 𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝙎𝙄𝙉𝙉𝙀𝘿 𝙄 | 𝙁𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙀

a/n: i haven't started the show yet, so I'm not familiar with his character in this show. please forgive my cluelessness during this fic.

summary: the reader goes to the church to confess to the priest that she recently sinned. however, the father decides to have some fun of his own.

warnings: mention of religion, 18+, missionary, loss of virginity, oral(fem & m receiving) fingering, nipple play, praise kink, pet names like doll,sweetheart,baby, mentions of anal, spanking, degrading, corruption kink, almost caught

˖⋆࿐໋

growing up in a religious household, i have developed a deep appreciation for my catholic roots. whenever I feel overwhelmed by sadness, anger, or depression, I find solace in the church.

today i couldn't help but feel a tremendous amount of guilt. i found myself hanging out with a boy, and things got a bit physical. even though we didn't go too far, i couldn't help but feel ashamed. i had promised to wait until marriage, but these uncontrollable desires keep creeping up. i've decided to go to the church to talk to the father about my recent activities and confess my sins.

as i made my way to the church, i felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation. i'm meeting with father charlie, a young and attractive man who’s also the priest at the church, which is not something you typically expect in the church. i haven't had a chance to speak with him one-on-one yet, so im feeling a bit apprehensive about what our conversation will entail.

i open the big doors to the church to see it completely empty just to find charlie sitting down on one the church benches.

“hello there” he calls out.

"father, there's something weighing heavily on my heart that I need to share with you," i said as I hurried to sit next to him.

i can feel that irritating uneasy sensation in my stomach. I didn't even give him a proper greeting. the guilt was so overwhelming that it made me stumble over my words.

"what is it y/n?" he turns all of his attention towards me, his big brown eyes digging into mine, as if anticipating something significant.

“i don’t know who to talk to, i can’t talk to my parents about this especially my own father. i’ve been feeling really guil-“

he interrupted me with a gentle smile and placed his hand on my shoulder, assuring me that everything would be okay and letting me know that he was a safe person to talk to.

“father, i need to confess something. i kissed a boy, and he kissed me back. he started to touch me, but i stopped him. i made a promise to the lord, and i feel terrible for breaking it”

as the tears welled up in my eyes, i instinctively dropped my face into my hands, seeking refuge from the overwhelming emotions.

"hey, it's going to be okay," charlie said in a gentle, caring tone as he stroked my hair, trying to comfort me.

“now tell me, did you guys fuck?”

as those words reached my ears, i couldn't help but look up at him, shaking my head as the tears continued to fall.

oh no, i hope he's not going to make me feel even worse.

“no father i swear-“

"shh, no swearing in the church," he said, raising his finger to his lips with a smirk. the irony wasn't lost on him, considering he had just dropped the f-bomb.

it was so quiet for a whole minute, and I started feeling really awkward. i had come all this way hoping for some advice or comfort, but it seemed like he just didn't care.

as I stood up, charlie grabbed my arm, forcing me to sit back down. “i didn't say you could leave. where do you think you're going?”

he replied coldly, smirking, “always so forgiving. it's kind of pathetic”

i stared at him, utterly perplexed, not really sure what he was talking about.

“father, isn't forgiveness what the church is all about?”

“sometimes, but in this case, i really want you to show me how sorry you are. otherwise, you're just going to keep committing the same sin over and over again. you don't want that, right? you don't want your parents to find out how desperate their innocent little girl has become, do you?"

i couldn't believe what i was hearing from charlie. i never expected him to act this way, let alone say things like this. i was at a loss for words and didn't know how to react. all i could do was nod in agreement. the last thing i wanted was for my parents to find out.

“father, i think i should go”

"why are you suddenly so shy, doll?" his hand on my chin made me tilt my head to stare at him.

"you don't think i notice how you look at me during mass when I'm speaking on the stand? you've become so needy that you sometimes cross your legs to stop yourself from feeling those emotions you want to avoid so badly," he says while caressing my cheek, gently rubbing his thumb on my bottom lip.

"i know you think of me taking you to the point where you can't even think straight, cum dripping out of you while i use you for my pleasure. you don't think i notice that? the way you avoid eye contact with me”

“i don’t know what your talking about father”

charlie’s hand rested lightly on my thigh, sending a spark of electricity coursing through my body. as his fingers inched toward the top of my skirt, pushing the fabric up just a little, my breath caught in my throat. each slow movement seemed to stretch time, heightening my senses and igniting a thrilling tension i couldn't ignore.

it felt deceptively wrong—the kind of reckless abandon that sent a shiver down my spine—but the anticipation was intoxicating, and I craved more. my mind raced, caught between instinct and hesitation, as the warmth of his touch settled into a deep hunger, one i found increasingly impossible to resist.

i glanced up, searching his eyes for a sign, a cue that this was more than just a fleeting moment. we held a playful challenge, a promise of the passion we both knew was simmering beneath the surface. my heart raced with excitement and fear, the boundaries of right and wrong blurring into a sweet confusion. with every breath, i felt the world around us fade away, lost to the undeniable chemistry pulsing in the air. i didn’t want to stop it; I wanted to let go completely and dive headfirst into whatever was coming next.

“do you want this as much as I want this?" charlie's voice broke through the haze of my thoughts, causing my heart to race in an unholy rhythm. i felt his gaze resettle upon me, a weight both thrilling and terrifying. my mind was a jumble, each beat vying for clarity as i struggled to focus on anything but him.

his eyes—the deep pools of mischief and longing—held me captive, swaying me like a fragile leaf in a rising storm. the blueprint of his desires flickered behind those intense brown eyes, and my cheeks burned with a shameful blush. I could hear the hymns of the service fade into background noise, a distant echo that paled against the ferocity of this moment.

what was wrong with me? i shouldn’t be feeling this way, not here—certainly not in a house of worship. my skirt brushed against my legs, reminding me of the innocence i used to wear like armor, now discarded in the face of this ravenous yearning. charlie wanted me. craved me. it was a dangerous temptation that had taken root within me, whispering sweet nothings that urged me to give in.

the candlelit corners of the church bathed in shadows, the lure was overwhelming. each passing week at mass had been an exercise in restraint, a careful balancing act over a precipice of emotion. seeing him near the altar in his crisp shirt—as though god himself had stitched him together purely for me—seemed more sublimely wrong every time.

as his eyes swept over me, i wondered if he could sense the tension glittering between us, thick and electrifying like charged air before a storm. j licked my lips, torn between the sanctity of the aisle and the allure of his promise. "I need you, doll. I can't deny it anymore," he murmured like a sin freshly minted from temptation's forge.

i felt a tumultuous wave of conflicting emotions surging within me. the whispered prayers seemed empty as an overwhelming desire ignited like an uncontrollable inferno. "father” i gasped, but the air escaped me, filled with forbidden possibilities. despite everything, all i could focus on were his lips drawing nearer to mine, as if the world around us faded away, leaving only the intense magnetism between us.

in that sacred moment, beneath the flickering lights, surrounded by silence begging to be heard, we hovered on the brink of something vast and insatiable. would we give in? would grace curdle into passion? ignoring the whisper of consequence felt like my true struggle—should we tiptoe across this brittle line, or confess that hunger has only one unyielding answer? together.

as I processed what was happening, a surge of warmth enveloped me, and i found myself surrendering to the moment. his lips danced across the sensitive skin of my neck, light as a whisper but charging the air with electricity. a small moan escaped my lips, betraying the whirlwind of emotions stirring within me. i could feel his smirk, a secret shared just between us, brushing against my skin, simultaneously teasing and thrilling.

his hand roamed over my thigh, a firm yet gentle grip that sent a shiver cascading through my body. "that's it, such a good girl for me," he purred, his voice a low whisper that thrummed like a melody in my ears, both lustful and tender. each word dripped with a promise, igniting the fire kindling deep within me, blurring the boundaries between desire and surrender.

lost in this intoxicating closeness, i reveled in the sensations; the world beyond shifted and faded, leaving only his teasing caresses and the seductive intimacy that enveloped us—a balance of power and vulnerability, inviting me to cross the threshold into unknown territory.

"father, i really don’t think we should be doing this here. It just doesn’t feel right. what if we get caught?" i watched as charlie sighed, rubbing his forehead in frustration, clearly torn between desire and caution.

"you’re right," he replied, his voice low and raspy, "but it’s late, and I don’t think anyone’s going to wander into the church at this hour. just relax, sweetheart."

i hesitated for a moment, then nodded, the thrill of the forbidden sending a shiver down my spine. i reached out, intertwining my fingers with his, bringing his hand to my lips and sucking gently on his long fingers. his eyes locked onto mine, filled with a primal hunger that made my heart race. i could see it in his expression—the desperate need to claim me, to tear away any barrier between us.

the air was thick with anticipation, and i could almost feel the weight of his longing as he shifted closer, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. the dim light from the stained glass windows cast a soft glow around us, amplifying the intensity of the moment. i could sense the tension building, a thrilling mix of danger and desire, as he leaned in, caught in the magnetic pull that seemed to draw us together like moths to a flame.

we were on the edge of something wild and reckless, and in that sacred space, everything felt possible.

charlie withdrew his fingers, his intention clear as he replaced them with his warm, teasing tongue. it slipped into my mouth, exploring with a fervor that sent electric shivers through my entire body. he held my neck gently yet possessively, urging me closer, deeper, igniting a fire that burned between us.

i kissed him back with equal intensity, a thrilling battle for dominance that left us both breathless. the taste of him was intoxicating, a heady mixture of desire and urgency that made my heart race. every flick of his tongue ignited a wave of pleasure, pooling low in my belly and making it almost impossible to think straight.

the heat of the moment consumed me; i could feel my body responding instinctively to his every move. the sweet tension built inside me, and i knew i needed him—needed to feel him against me, to drown in that wild connection we shared. my panties were already soaked, a testament to the overwhelming desire coursing through my veins.

charlie pushes my panties to the side allowing his already wet fingers from my saliva to dance around my clothed heat growling like a predator hungry for its prey “let me show you how a real man is supposed to make you feel darling, those little boys wouldn’t know how to handle something so precious like you. i can make you feel so good you wouldn’t be able to walk straight for days”

as he pumps his fingers in out of me the sweet sounds filling up the quiet church was enough for the both of us to go crazy “more father please” he smirked at my neediness removing his fingers out of me putting them up to mouth to signaling me to suck the sweet juices off of his fingers then going back in for a quick rub of my clit

charlie stood up getting ready to unbuckle his pants but before he could even do that a voice filled up the quiet room which caused me to jump and act quick closing my legs and hiding my exposed area “father charlie i’ve been looking everywhere for you” an older lady shouts from across the room as she appears to be in desperate need of his help

he sighed and i took that as my sign to leave before we both do something we might regret later, charlie keeps his gaze on me the entire time “hi, ill be with you in a moment” he spoke up the lady stops in her tracks wondering what a young woman was doing here at almost midnight with the priest of the church she was curious but nothing crossed her mind as she was desperate to talk to the priest

charlie followed me out of the church closing the door behind us “this isn’t over sweetheart” he placed a kiss on my forehead as he walked back into the church.

˖⋆࿐໋

a/n: omggg i hope you guys like this!! i’ve spent almost a day and a half working on this just for you all especially the person who requested this, i will be making this into a little series since it was getting pretty long! anyways i really hope you guys enjoyed this, remember feel free to request anything!

[wolvietxt]

💭 thinking about…

𝗅𝗈𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍 𝖺𝗉𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗋𝗀𝗎𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍!

pairing : logan howlett x fem!reader warnings : argument, logan shouts at reader over something insignificant, hurt / comfort, ANGST, fluff, happy ending  word count : 2.4k

logan had been on edge for weeks now. everything seemed to be going wrong, one thing after another. his mission plan was falling apart, charles was breathing down his neck, and it felt like no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t catch a break. the stress was eating at him, wearing him down little by little until it felt like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

you’d noticed the change in him - how he seemed quieter, more distant, his temper flaring up over the smallest things. you tried to help where you could, offering him a shoulder to lean on, giving him space when he needed it, but nothing seemed to work. logan was like a tightly wound spring, ready to snap at any moment.

today had been the worst of all. logan’s day started with a series of frustrating conversations that left him feeling like he was running in circles. every task seemed to come with a new problem, and by the time he left work, he was fuming. his hands clenched into fists as he drove home, his mind racing with everything that had gone wrong. all he wanted was to come home, find some peace, and forget about the day. but even that was too much to ask.

when he walked through the door, he immediately noticed that the kitchen was spotless - so spotless, in fact, that his papers, the ones he’d left scattered across the table, were missing. he felt a surge of irritation. you had been on a cleaning spree, trying to make the house more comfortable for him, but in doing so, you’d moved around some of his blueprints. the ones he needed. the ones he hadn’t had time to organise properly.

“where are my papers?” logan’s voice was tight as he scanned the kitchen, looking for the documents that were now nowhere to be seen.

you looked up from where you were organising the bookshelf, smiling a little at him. “oh, i moved them to the study so you’d have more space. i thought - ”

“you thought?” logan cut you off, his voice rising. “why would you move my stuff without asking me?”

you blinked, caught off guard by the sharpness in his tone. “i just wanted to help. i know you’ve been stressed, and i thought having a clean space might - ”

“a clean space?” logan’s laugh was harsh, bitter. “i don’t need a clean space, i need my work to not be messed with! do you have any idea how much shit i’ve been dealing with lately? and now this - this is the last thing i need!”

he was shouting now, the frustration of the past few weeks boiling over. every little thing that had gone wrong, every setback, every sleepless night - it all came out in a torrent of anger directed at you. 

“logan, i didn’t mean to make things worse…” you tried to explain, but he wasn’t listening. he was too far gone, too wrapped up in his own frustration to hear the hurt in your voice.

“you never think, do you? you just do whatever you want, and now i’m the one who has to deal with the consequences! i’m sick of this! i’m sick of everything always going wrong, and now you’re just adding to it!”

his words cut through you like a knife. you hadn’t meant to make things worse, you 

were just trying to help, but the way he was yelling at you, the anger in his voice - it was too much. your chest tightened, and you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, but you tried to hold them back. 

“logan, please… i’m sorry, i just wanted to make things easier for you,” you said, your voice trembling.

“easier? easier for me?” he snapped, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “well, congratulations, because you’ve done the exact opposite! now i have to waste even more time finding everything you moved, and i’m already drowning here!”

the tears you’d been trying so hard to hold back finally spilled over. you tried to wipe them away quickly, but logan was still shouting, too caught up in his own anger to notice.

“why can’t you just leave things the way they are? why do you always have to interfere? it’s like you don’t even care how much pressure i’m under! do you even care about anything besides what you want?”

his words were like a punch to the gut, and you couldn’t hold it in any longer. a sob escaped your lips, loud and broken, and it stopped logan in his tracks. the sound cut through his anger like a knife, and suddenly, the room was silent. 

he stared at you, his chest heaving as he tried to process what was happening. you were crying - no, you were sobbing, and it hit him like a ton of bricks. all the anger, all the frustration that had been driving him just moments ago, drained away, leaving him feeling hollow and ashamed.

“y/n…” he started, his voice shaky now, all the sharp edges gone. “shit, i didn’t mean…”

but you couldn’t stop crying, the weight of his words crashing down on you all at once. you hadn’t realised just how much stress he’d been under, how deeply it had been affecting him, and now it felt like you’d only made everything worse.

logan stepped closer, his hands reaching out, but he hesitated. he didn’t know how to fix this - how to take back the things he’d said, the hurt he’d caused. “hey, hey… please don’t cry. i’m sorry, i didn’t… i didn’t mean any of that.”

his hands were trembling as he finally pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. he could feel your sobs wracking your body, and it broke something inside him. how could he have been so blind? so stupid? 

“i’m so fucking sorry,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “i’m an idiot, and i let all this shit get to me, and i took it out on you. you didn’t deserve any of that.”

you clung to him, your fingers digging into his shirt as you tried to calm down. his arms were strong around you, holding you like you were the only thing anchoring him to reality. and maybe, in that moment, you were.

logan pressed his lips to the top of your head, murmuring apologies over and over, his voice thick with regret. “i’m sorry… i’m so fucking sorry… please, y/n, don’t cry. i hate seeing you like this.”

you wanted to tell him that it was okay, that you understood, but the words were stuck in your throat. instead, you just held onto him, letting him hold you, letting his presence calm the storm inside you.

it took a while for your sobs to finally subside, and when they did, you felt exhausted, like all the fight had been drained out of you. but logan didn’t let go - he just held you tighter, like he was afraid that if he let go, you’d slip away.

“i’ve been such a fucking mess lately,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “everything’s been going wrong, and i didn’t know how to deal with it. i’ve been pushing you away, taking it out on you, and that’s not fair. it’s not fair to you, and it’s not fair to us.”

you nodded against his chest, your fingers still gripping his shirt. “i just wanted to help… i hate seeing you like this. it feels like you’re slipping away from me, and i don’t know how to bring you back.”

logan’s heart clenched at your words. he hadn’t realised how much his behaviour had been affecting you, how much you’d been carrying on your own. he felt a fresh wave of guilt wash over him, and he held you even tighter.

“y’re not losing me,” he said firmly, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. his thumb gently brushed away the tears on your cheeks, his touch soft, careful. “i promise you, you’re not losing me. i’ve just been so caught up in my own shit that i forgot what really matters.”

you searched his eyes, looking for the truth in his words, and you found it there - clear and unwavering. he was still here, still the man you loved, even if he’d lost his way for a while.

“i’m not going anywhere,” he continued, his voice steady now, a promise in every word. “we’re going to get through this. together.”

you nodded, a small, shaky smile forming on your lips. “yeah.”

logan leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “i love you,” he whispered, his voice filled with all the emotion he’d been holding back for weeks. “i love you so much. and i’m going to do better, i can fuckin’ promise you that, bub.”

you closed your eyes, letting his words wash over you, feeling the truth in them. you knew it wouldn’t be easy - logan was stubborn, and he had a lot to work through - but you also knew that he meant every word. he loved you, and that was enough.

“i love you too,” you whispered back, your voice soft but steady. 

logan’s lips found yours in a gentle, lingering kiss, one that spoke of apologies and promises of love and commitment. when he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours again, his eyes closed as he took a deep breath. logan smiled - a real, genuine smile that you hadn’t seen in what felt like forever. 

the two of you stayed like that for a while longer, just holding each other, finding comfort in the closeness. the argument, the hurt, the tears - they were all still there, but they didn’t feel as overwhelming now. you both knew there was work to be done, but for the first time in weeks, it felt like you were on the same page, like you could actually do this.

when logan finally pulled away, he took your hand and led you to the couch, where the two of you sat down together. his arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side, and you leaned into him, resting your head on his chest.

“tell me what’s been going on,” you said softly, wanting to understand what had been eating at him for so long. “i want to help, logan. i don’t want you to go through this alone.”

logan let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair as he tried to find the right words. “it’s just been one thing after another. work’s been a nightmare. nothing’s going right, and scott is on my case constantly. every day, it feels like i’m just… barely keeping my head above water. and then i come home, and i don’t want to burden you with all of this, but it’s just… it’s been too much.”

you listened quietly, letting him talk, letting him get it all out. you could hear the exhaustion in his voice, the frustration, the weight he’d been carrying for so long. it broke your heart to know he’d been dealing with all of this on his own, and you hadn’t even realised how bad it had gotten.

“logan,” you said softly when he finished, your voice filled with compassion. “you don’t have to carry this by yourself. i’m here, and i want to help. we’re a team, remember?”

logan nodded, his eyes closing as he rested his head back against the couch. “i know. i just… i didn’t want to unload all of this on you. i didn’t want to worry you.”

“but i was already worried,” you pointed out gently. “because i could see that something was wrong, and you weren’t talking to me about it. that’s what scared me the most - not knowing what was going on in your head.”

logan’s grip on your hand tightened, and he turned to look at you, his eyes filled with regret. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to shut you out. i just… didn’t know how to talk about it. i didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“logan, you don’t have to be perfect,” you said, your voice firm but loving. “i love you for who you are, flaws and all. and if you’re struggling, i want to know. i want to be there for you, just like you’ve always been there for me.”

logan’s expression softened, and he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead. “i don’t deserve you,” he murmured against your skin. “but i’m so fucking grateful that you’re here.”

you smiled, wrapping your arms around him and holding him close. “you deserve all the love in the world, logan. and i’m not going anywhere. we’ll figure this out, one step at a time.”

logan nodded, his heart swelling with emotion. he knew he was lucky to have you, and he was determined to do better - to be better. for you, and for himself.

the two of you spent the rest of the evening talking, really talking, about everything that had been weighing on logan’s mind. it wasn’t easy, but it was necessary, and by the end of the night, you both felt a sense of relief that had been missing for far too long.

logan knew he still had a lot to work through, but he also knew that he wasn’t alone. you were by his side, ready to face whatever challenges came your way. and for the first time in weeks, he felt like he could finally breathe again.

as you both drifted off to sleep that night, wrapped up in each other’s arms, logan made a silent promise to himself: he would never take you for granted again. you were his rock, his safe haven, and he was going to do everything in his power to make sure you knew just how much you meant to him.

because at the end of the day, no matter how tough things got, you were the one thing in his life that he couldn’t afford to lose. and he would do whatever it took to keep you by his side, now and always.

[misaamoure]

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭:

𝐇𝐞’𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬… 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭??

⋅ ˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬:

It was no secret that Sylus’s dexterity was finely tuned.

He always spoke about how if your fingers were more sensitive, you’d have an advantage over your opponent or… something like that? You weren’t really listening.

Sylus didn’t miss how your eyes lit up a bit when you glanced at his hands. He’s teased you about it endlessly.

As much as he loved to mess with you, he also loved giving you exactly what you wanted.

Which is how you both wound up here, in your current position.

“Sylus… oh… my god!” You nearly fell forward onto the table as he delivered a harsh smack to your ass.

“Easy sweetie,” He rubbed his hand over the bruised skin. “I’ve barely even started.”

You two had been sitting together in his dining room when you had stared as his beautiful hands a bit too long.

You broke your gaze away from them, looking up and accidentally catching eyes with him.

“You’re too far away,” he beckoned you closer with his infamous smirk. “Come closer. I don’t bite. Surely the big bad hunter isn’t afraid of me?”

As many times as you’ve blown his stupid proposals off with a, “reverse psychology doesn’t work on me,” it unfortunately did work this one time.

You decided to match his bold disposition. Maybe it’d finally shut him up. Sylus talked too much.

Walking right around the table to where he was sitting; you mustered up your sexiest saunter over to him and sat right in his lap.

“Satisfied?”

“Fuck,” You felt him exhale against you, carefully wrapping his arms around you. “You don’t even know.”

He pulled you into one of the most passionate kisses you’ve ever had.

Then one kiss turned into a make out. And then you two started to grope each other all over, and things got more and more heated.

Running your palm back and forth over the bulge in his black slacks, you bit his neck as you felt him gently push you away as he huffed out a groan.

“Wait,” He grabbed you by your shoulders. “Bend over the table for me, kitten.”

You licked your lips before doing exactly what he said, not daring to break eye contact.

While you were once hesitant to look him in the eye, you now adored being the only one in his gaze.

You see him palming himself through his slacks as he watched you bend over, making you even wetter than you were before.

“Yeah, just like that. Pull your panties to the side.”

You once again did exactly as he said, still looking into his encapsulating red eyes.

Sylus reaches forward and gives you a good spank, making you sensually gasp.

You feel both of his hands on your ass, and then you feel him give you another smack.

“Sylus please...”

He kisses the spot he previously hit.

“Hm?” You hear him chuckle behind you. “Tell me what you want.”

“I wanna know what your fingers would feel like inside me.”

Sylus felt himself be taken aback, something he found himself to be often in your presence.

Everything with you was so new to him.

“What my sweet girl wants,” He kisses the red, sore spot once more. “She will get.”

You felt him dip one of his long fingers into you, finally, making your jaw drop.

“Tell me where it feels good.”

Bending his finger forward, Sylus starts off with slow pumps in and out of you, a feeling that has you struggling to stay still.

“Oh… my god…” You felt a harsh shiver make its way down your spine. “Just like that… feels so good…”

“Yeah?” He starts to pick up the pace, building up a delicious friction inside of you. “Want more?”

“Please!” It had come out louder than you intended, but that was the last thing on your mind at this point.

Wait the door was locked… right?

Just as you were about to deepen what was supposed to be a fleeting thought, you feel your mind nearly melt out of your ears as Sylus smoothly stuck another finger inside you.

Curling both fingers forward, you felt him start to prod around inside you for your gspot.

Everything he was doing to you was turning you into a mess of moans and gasps.

Then he found your gspot.

You felt the tips of his fingers rub against that one spot that made your knees weak.

“There!” You nearly screamed, knees almost giving out under you. “Right there… so good Sylus don’t stop…!”

“Here?” He pressed the spot extra hard, making you gasp loudly once again.

“Yesss yeah right there!”

You heard him laugh once again before feeling his thumb on your clit.

“Sylus… Sylus…”

Eyes screwed shut, you couldn’t stop chanting his name as he sent shockwaves of pleasure throughout your body.

“Keep calling out my name, sweetie.” He felt his cock throbbing painfully in his pants.

But he wouldn’t stop until you were cumming all over his fingers.

And then he’d make you beg to be stuffed full of his dick. Every single inch.

He thought of making you count the inches out loud as he sunk himself into you painfully slow.

This filthy train of thought was quickly derailed by your pussy tightening delightfully around his fingers.

“Sylussss,” He felt you fuck back onto his fingers. “More…”

Not missing a beat, he stuck a third finger inside you and started to rub your clit in tight, quick circles.

You practically screamed out the moan previously caught in your throat.

The entire base had to know what you two were doing by now.

“Oh my god… I think I’m gonna cum!”

Sylus started to move his fingers even faster in and out of your, rubbing right over your gspot with every single thrust.

“Go ahead. I want to see you cum all over my fingers.”

And you did just that.

𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞:

“Mmm… mmm!”

You moaned against Zayne’s lips as he rubbed your clit with his thumb over the material of your jeans.

Being that he was a surgeon, a top surgeon at that; Zayne’s dexterity was finely honed over the years.

He could hold even the tiniest and thinnest of tools. Get into nooks and crannies that no other could.

And his hands… they were beautiful.

So much skill and devotion captured in every movement.

The silver scars adorning them only made them so much more appealing.

He often caught you staring during your quality time together… times when you were supposed to be finishing up work reports or studying.

“Concentrate.”

“Sorry…”

Ever so often, he loved to indulge you.

Zayne knew just how good he was with his hands. And he’d let you know too.

“I feel bad for impeding your work efficacy,” You could see the ghost of a smile on his face. “No matter. I’m sure I can make it up to you tonight.”

“Zayne…”

He stopped touching you, making you whine at the loss of his touch.

He instead took each of your hands in his, lacing his fingers through yours and pinning your hands on the bed next to your head.

“Tell me what you were thinking about earlier, Y/N.” He didn’t break eye contact as he dipped down to kiss along your neck.

You felt the heat rush to your face at the ticklish sensation.

“I was thinking about…” You turned your head away, not being able to bear the intense eye contact much longer. “Your fingers inside me. And how good it feels.”

“Hm.” You heard the vague amusement in his voice.

Oh, how you had a love hate relationship with this side of him.

“Well, you did finish all your work earlier. That should be rewarded, no?”

Zayne gave a few more kisses to your neck, making you squirm, before sitting up and taking your pants and panties off.

“I never get sick of this sight.” He sighed affectionately.

You felt so exposed under him. But you trusted Zayne more than anyone else. You were safe with him.

Pushing up his glasses, Zayne wasted no time getting to work.

Running his middle finger up and down your slit, he gathered the wetness on his finger before slowly pushing it inside you.

This made your jaw drop. You threw your head back with your eyes screwed shut tightly.

You had been wet all day. You had been waiting for this all day.

"Oh my fucking god Zayne.." You couldn't help but toss and turn at the feeling. His fingers were so long.

You opened your eyes and looked down fleetingly. He felt so deep inside you with just one finger.

“Like that?”

“Yes… please…”

Smoothly adding a second finger into you, he began to make scissoring motions with his two fingers inside you.

Zayne felt his cock throbbing in his pants. But he knew discipline more than anyone else.

He wouldn’t stop until his job was done.

Deepening and intensifying his movements inside you, he watched your facial expressions change and react to his every action.

Going off of this he found the best ways to pleasure you.

“How about a third finger?”

"Yes, yes... please..!" You babbled dumbly as his thrusts sped up.

Doing just as you asked, he carefully added a third finger to the two already inside you.

Fuck, he wished he could give himself even a little bit of relief. Watching you so enthusiastically receive the pleasure he was giving you was turning him on unbearably.

What Zayne really wanted to do was pull his cock out and jerk himself off while still continuing his ministrations on you.

But he wouldn’t allow himself to get distracted. He knew he’d cum in seconds if he were to do that.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, he opted to dip down and give you a quick kiss on the lips instead.

"How about right here?" He asked before reaching down between the two of you to rub circles into your clit.

"Yes!"

He always knew the right spots and how to touch them. He knew you inside and out. No pun intended.

He knew right where your gspot was too.

Slightly twisting his fingers as he pulled them in and out of you, he curled them forward into your gspot with a substantial press every time he passed it.

Your jaw was dropped into a permanent gasp, your hands thinking with a mind of their own as they reached down to grab Zayne’s wrist.

Not even stopping his motions in and out of you, he quickly took both of your hands with his one free and pinned them above your head.

“Oh… Zayne… I can’t take it anymore!”

“I know you can. Do it for me.”

The sound of his voice… what he was saying… what he was doing to you.

It was all too much. Poor you.

"Zayne I'm gonna cum!" You threw your head back on the pillow and gripped as his shoulders harshly.

"Cum for me,” He said breathlessly, watching you with adorably red ears. “So I can fuck you after.”

He grabbed your chin and pulled you into a passionate kiss as he brought you to your climax.