#it's taking a minute to remember how to use my feet but i'm getting there >:3

[laserbobcat]

A WIP i'll never finish, i tried! I started this before march and will never finish it properly. I'm glad I had the energy to at least clean the last panels enough. I was trying a new style/process and it doesn't stick. Anyway, I'll just tell the rest of the story since I (probably) won't draw it, and maybe some of you like to read:

Nari turns into a god again, to his surprise. Turns out it's because the Lamb fucked up a new age reversing ritual they're trying out, and turned themselves into a baby. Too weak of a vessel, so the crown had to jump ships back to him. Narinder enjoys this IMMENSELY. Makes a dramatic evil laugh and give some kind of speech about how the Lamb is stupid and he's the boss now. He tells Aym and Baal to babysit the Lamb until they're old enough to be trained like they both were and "Maybe this time around they will learn obedience" and exits- also dramatically. The cultists start to panic, what the hell is that giant god, what do you mean it's Narinder are you kidding me? The tsundere Lamb's friend? The grumpy fisherman? Oh no what are we gonna do without the Lamb etc etc... Until Leshy laughs out loud and says "Just ignore him and wait a day or two, he's gonna get tired of bossing people around and miss his precious Lamb. He'll find a solution." Aym deadpan says five, Leshy says five days seems too long he'll cave in sooner than that, but Baal says "No we mean five minutes." And BAM the temple's door open again and Narinder is here yelling MORTALS I need you to remember EXACTLY the words they made you chant, I need it to reverse the ritual!

He quickly realized that this Lamb will not be HIS Lamb, HIS lamb is gone for good if he doesn't cook some good magic real quick. And that's the start of a period of time where Nari has to bust his ass trying to undo the Lamb's failed magic. I had bunch of stuff in mind, including: -Lambie being the worst and most insufferable baby ever. No one sleeps on their watch, and no one gets to be distracted for a second otherwise they start eating rocks. their yell is the loudest noise ever heard. The goat is a joke next to them. Everyone has the tired parent trait now. -Narinder smashing people to death when they're annoying and distracting him from his research. He adds their name to "the resurrection list" for the Lamb to deal with later. The followers somehow get used to it. -Morgan trying his best to keep Leshy away from his irritated brother, despite his intense need to annoy him at the worst time possible. -Narinder yelling "Fetch me my thinking Lamb!" and then squishing the baby between two fingers like a squeaky toy to help him focus (the baby enjoys that) -Saleos and Irene forcing a huge ass exhausted and irritable 19 feet god to take a rest, maybe go fishing to get some air. -Narinder accidentally hitting his head on the door frame of the temple. A lot. -Narinder reluctantly having to officiate the important rituals "I don't care about your damn crops but let's get this over with- NO we're not having an exhibitionist dance go back to work!" -Thena having to read most of the Lamb's writing for him because they write in cursive that is so pretty it's unreadable -Thena making him realize how much work the Lamb is doing everyday. Narinder keeps in mind that he will have to make him rest later. The end would be Narinder finally managing to reverse the ritual, and a butt naked, befuddled adult Lamb appearing on the floor of the temple. Narinder takes the crown off of his head and throws it at their face, and yells at them while changing back into his mortal form and stomping out of the temple: "You IDIOT baby god trying to CREATE new magics when you're not even able to master the old ones completely I CAN'T BELIEVE you would try something so stupid do you even realize how much of a pain in the ass it was to understand your weird logic and clean your mess I SWEAR if you ever do something like that I'll let you rot in whatever pit you dig for yourself AND DON'T YOU DARE SAY ANYTHING ABOUT THE RESURRECTION LIST-" And slams the door on his way out, leaving the lamb astounded.

Cut to Narinder getting back to his house in his tree, and flopping on his bed, exhausted. He massages his arms, visibly relieved to have them back to normal, without the pain. He sighs with a little smile, stretches, curls into a ball and falls asleep.

That's how the lamb finds him later when they carefully come to talk to him after hearing about all of what happened. Except the black cat loaf on the bed changed into a baby.

Rinse and repeat.

[kisssukuna33]

<Chef Husband!!Sukuna with his pregnant wife headcanons>

Chef Husband Sukuna Series <3

Chef Husband Sukuna! Who became a guard dog ever since you two find out about your pregnancy. Don't get me wrong, Sukuna was very much protective of his dear wife ever since he got married but imagine just how worse it got after you became pregnant?

He was clingy with you to the point where you felt like a parasite living in his skin.

Want to take a simple walk outside? Sukuna is already applying sunscreen all over you while putting the sandals (ugly sandals he bought against your will that are apparently "good" for pregnant women) on your feet when you insisted him you can do it yourself.

"Sukuna I'm only 6 weeks.. I can do it on my own"

"Shut up woman, I know what I'm doing"

Chef Husband Sukuna! Who reserved an entire room just for you in his restaurant. Sukuna tried his best to stay home during your pregnancy but he can't just push the whole workload to his co-workers so he obviously had to visit from time to time.

But in the 5th month of your pregnancy Sukuna refused to be apart from you even more than 5 minutes, he wanted you close to his eyes, he rearranged one of the storage rooms to your likeness so you can rest comfortably while he figured out stuff in the restaurant.

Chef Husband Sukuna! Who's coworkers began to fear the hell out of you. You were always an angel in their eyes. Their mean and scary boss's pretty wife who always greeted them with a warm smile and tried out everything they made enthusiastically without complaining, but that person is long gone, thanks to the little demon growing inside your belly. Whenever a dish you requested didn't match your taste— your face instantly got dark. They swear they can almost see a rain cloud appearing above your head. And Sukuna wasn't any pleased to see his wife moody either, the daggers like stares he sent their way was enough to to shit themselves.

"Professional chefs you say, can't even bake a fucking pie right"

"sorry chef-"

"get the hell out, I will make it myself"

With that Sukuna began his display of talent. Guiding the knife through fruits skillfully, each slice falling effortlessly under his touch and then he crafted the perfect buttery dough fit for a pie, all by his hands.

"Now this is what you call a pie sweetheart"

You swear once you finished eating it, you fell in love with him all over again.

Chef Husband Sukuna! Who spoiled you rotten throughout your entire pregnancy. He made every one of your cravings without a single miss. It can be 2 am, both of you sleeping peacefully in each other's arm and a single nudge to his shirt and a "please" was all he needed to leave the bed and get in the kitchen asap, all the while you sat on the kitchen counter, pampering him with endless kisses as appreciation.

Chef Husband Sukuna! Who became the sworn enemy of rain. He knows what kind of danger slippery grounds bring and he wasn't going to risk it at all. If it rains that means walking outside is entirely prohibited.

You remember one time standing outside in the driveway with an umbrella in hand, waiting for Sukuna to come home from the restaurant. You swear you saw his face dropped to Zero when he saw you in the cold rain outside.

"Hey Sukuna! Wait what the— put me down!"

"Stubborn woman, What did I tell you about being outside when it rains?"

"Alright I'm sorry but put me down! the neighbors are staring at us"

"can't do sweetheart"

Chef Husband Sukuna! wasn't a skilled man with his words. Pregnancy isn't all sunshine and rainbows, he knew you needed reassurance and comfort about all this.

So he had his own way of showing it.

Whenever you feel bad for eating too much he made sure to sit in front you and eat your pregnancy cravings with you together, just so you will feel less guilty about eating it alone.

He made sure to kiss the stretch marks spreading across your body every single night.

He attended every single class dedicated to "new parents" with you, no matter how many uninviting glances he received with his not so familiar appearance.

He tired his best to be the supportive husband you needed, and he nailed it.

Chef Husband Sukuna! always complained about the framed photos of you two hanging in the walls of his restaurant. "Odd numbers are bad luck" he reminded you everytime but you would laugh it off promising him to take one more decent pic soon. No matter how much he asked it never happened.

But little did Sukuna knew, the balance he wanted wouldn't come from another couple's photo of you two, it came from the tiniest new addition to your little family.

Your baby boy wrapped in a soft white blanket, cradled in Sukuna's tattooed arms with Sukuna leaning close to you, his forehead resting against yours as both of you gazed at your son with soft smiles.

Too much love to fit into just one picture, but enough to make the wall feel completed.

[074calicocat]

✮⋆˙ Heaven or the Living Room Couch

cw: so much fluff. Leon gets shirtless but that's literally it. mandatory warning for my shitty sense of teen boy humor

notes: i was feeling sentimental and now Leon has to get sentimental too. sometimes I like to think about a life where I have an actual husband in real life. I would like a marriage similar to this.

It's almost laughable how Leon perks up like a puppy whenever he hears the front door open in the afternoon.

Because it can only mean one thing: you're back. His precious wife has made it come from the perils of corporate America. The baseball game he was about to doze off to is even more ignored as he sits up straight, waiting to see you make your way into the living room.

"Babe? You there?" The familiar click of your heels against the floor is enough answer for him as you make your way into the living room, looking as weary as always. Jesus, Leon thinks. The companies are out for her soul. At least you look to die for in your blouse and sleek pencil skirt. Makes him remember why so many people have office job fantasies if a person can look behind how draining it was. But despite his worries, a soft sigh escapes him as you shuffle your way over to him, your hands down your shirt as you undo your bra.

"Couldn't wait five minutes?" he muses as you roll your eyes at him. You reach behind you to undo the clasp and slip the bra right out from under your shirt like a magic trick, tossing it right at his head. "Hey!" And they say love is dead. He pulls it off his head and holds it in his hand, choosing to admire the soft lace instead of retorting to you saying "pervert" under your breath.

You snicker as you drop your bag at the edge of the couch and finally plop down next to him, groaning as you lay down. It's a routine at this point for you to nuzzle into him like a cat after you get back; resting your head into his lap as you curl up. "My feet hurt," you complain. "And my boobs hurt. And I'm hungry. And my crotch itches. TMI moment, sorry."

"Yeah, I don't think TMI even exists between us. Anyways...want me to scratch you?" He gets a good laugh out of your mortified expression and even more so at your weak attempts to swat his face. But you drop the annoyed act once he sits you up in his lap, your legs straddling his waist.

"Hi, Leon," you mumble, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. Your shamelessly slip under his shirt, pawing at his chest like it's going to magically make the ache in your feet go away.

"Hi, pretty girl. Watcha doing?" He lets you have your moment as you touch him, lifting his arms so you can tug his shirt off of him. And he's all coarse hair and pudge around the waist, a patchwork of scares and beauty marks spackled across his collarbone. Those cheeky hands of yours waste no time grabbing his chest, your thumb absentmindedly brushing over his nipples. "Jesus-that feels funny," he tenses up for a moment but you don't cease your groping, a sly grin on your lips. "Oh, but when I wanna touch your tits after work you get all fussy? That's not very fair-"

"Shut up and let me enjoy this."

Well damn.

"Yes, ma'am." He shuts up soon after your pointed command, letting you take the reins. But you don't try to take things farther, oh no. You just rest your head over his heart, your hands sliding to his back to hold him close.

"I can hear you," you whisper, relaxing into his skin as the thrum of blood pumping through his body seems to soothe you. "I like that. It makes me feel better after work."

it's your greatest gift to make even the smallest things seem romantic. To make Leon feel special. Loved. Your hands are curious yet gentle, your lips moving with reverence against his skin. Oh God, he loves. He loves you so much his head hurts and he could cry.

"I love you so much..." and he says, breathlessly. Almost bashfully. But he could scream your name atop every roof in the city, write in blood that he loves you. And when your eyes meet his, it's a little embarrassing to him how misty-eyed he gets.

[ssahotchnerr]

a bit late but i have a request for protective aaron 😓😓 reader and hotch having a date night and they run into someone who claims to be from the fbi like that one guy who prentiss garcia and jj came across?? maybe they play along for while? i love ur writing btw 💕💕 and congrats on 5k!!

brad's back

let's pretend this hasn't been in my drafts for ages, and what if it is the same guy they came across 🤭 cw; jealous!aaron, bau fem!reader, bar setting, light drinking mentions, suggestiveness, brad LOL wc; 1.2k

Saturday night. Date night.

Aaron and yourself had already finished dinner, and had stopped at a nearby bar for a drink or two before heading home. Jack was at Jessica's for the night, having fun of his own at a sleepover with his cousins.

That meant a wonderfully empty apartment was waiting for you, and all of its advantages.

You were giddy with impatience, eager to head out. As you waited for Aaron to return - he had run to the men's room - out of your peripheral you sensed someone lingering, just a few feet away from where you were sat.

You turned your head, subtly brushing your fingers through your hair so your glance didn't seem purposeful. It was a man in a suit, hair swept cleanly, looking greatly out of place in the casualness of the bar.

But your discreet attempt at observing did go noticed; the man took it as a plausible excuse to approach you.

"You should be careful."

Your eyebrows quirked quizzically, evaluating whether or not his statement was a threat or hopeful flirting. "How so?"

"Saturday night. It's getting late. We're in a high crime area."

You widened your eyes in feigned surprise, "Are we?"

No, you were not.

You quickly deemed him harmless, for now. And while you waited, why not play into it; he obviously had some story going, without a doubt a highly entertaining one at that. Not only, with Aaron due back in a few short minutes, you wouldn't mind seeing his protective side in the slightest.

"But lucky for you, I'm around. I just so happen to be a part of the FBI."

"Really." Your chin pointed downwards, not wasting a second to rack through your brain. He didn't look familiar, and you were quite good at remembering faces. You definitely hadn't come across this man before in practice.

When nothing unveiled, "I didn't catch your name."

"Brad."

Holy shit. You've heard the infamous Brad story from the girls, numerous times, and this had to be him. It had to; he was just as they described: vain, a bit gawky. You quickly stifled the laugh that wanted to burst through your chest. It's been months since, and evidently he was still using the same pickup.

"Brad the FBI agent." You nodded slowly, toying with your drink, fingers on the rim. "That's quite the title. What department are you in?"

"That's classified," he answered, leaning against the counter on an elbow. "I'm afraid I can't tell you that."

"I see..."

Your eyes shot to the side as Aaron approached, landing on him just in time to see him stop in his tracks. As expected, a scowl deepened on his face as he saw Brad talking to you, also taking notice of his close, flirtatious proximity. His feet began moving once again, more urgency in his step.

"You must know Aaron then." You gushed, grabbing onto Aaron's arm and drawing him close as soon as he was in reach, and before he could ruthlessly interrogate Brad. Aaron lightly stumbled in surprise at the sudden pull.

Brad blanched, "I, urm-"

"Aaron," you grinned, "this is Brad."

Aaron shot you a look, one that read: 'And why the hell would I care?' but as he gave you said look, he immediately eyed the mischievous, fiery glint in your eyes. You were up to something.

The tension lessened in Aaron (barely), offering a rather stiff, "Hello."

"Brad," you turned, your hand clutching onto Aaron's bicep, your thumb grazing it calmly. "Aaron's in the FBI too."

Aaron's shoulders relaxed, probably coming to the same realization; he's heard the story also, as Penelope all but sprinted into the bullpen to share the hilarious encounter.

"No, I don't believe we have met." He activated his Hotch Stare, "What department are you-"

"Oh, he can't say. Classified." You interrupted, lips developing into a pout. "Strange, isn't it?"

While Aaron's notorious expression was enough to make Brad squirm, he also put an arm around you, keeping you close. Very close, your shoulder was practically digging into his chest.

Brad forced a laugh, his voice painfully strained. "Actually, it's uh... the big one. In DC."

"The big one." Aaron deadpanned, his brows furrowing more into a hardened line above his eyes. "You mean the J. Edgar Hoover Building?"

"Yes sir, that one." He rushed out, his gaze darting to the side. Probably looking for a quick escape.

"And your speciality?"

A dreadfully, humorously weak answer, "Crime."

"Crime." Aaron repeated, with an undertone of idiot.

"Modern day hero, clearly." You inputted. Aaron's lips twitched, holding back a smile.

"Your Superior is?"

"Superior... you see, I really can't stay. My boss wouldn't be too happy with me giving out the details."

"And you are aware that impersonation can be charged as a criminal offense," Aaron laid it on thick, his tone nothing less than strictly authoritative. "Aren't you?"

Brad opened his mouth to respond. Much to his avail, only silence came out.

"If I were you, I would try to find a better use of your time than using a forged title to pick up women. Perhaps being yourself may work? Although, I believe that needs extensive work as well."

Humiliation glassed over Brad's eyes, a blush rising to his cheeks. He turned on his heel, retreating.

"One more thing."

Your heart skipped a beat. From Aaron's tone of voice, the protectiveness you had anticipated - deep emphasis was about to come to the surface.

"I'm not the only one in the FBI." He spoke with pride in his chest, cocking his head towards you. Aaron's lips also quipped into a smile, whereas a smug look was on your face. "She's more than capable to take care of herself. And if for some reason she couldn't, that's where I come in."

Brad merely stood there, helplessly. From the irritation present on his face, he was completely over it.

"Have a good night."

"That was something, wasn't it?" You stated humorously once Brad was out of earshot.

Aaron snorted a laugh into his drink. "I'll say."

"I wonder how often it's worked." You thought aloud, feeling for those who had unknowingly fallen for it.

"Not enough if he's still using it as a ruse."

"It's kinda sad." While it was well deserved, long overdue and hopefully ceased any future endeavors of his, you still couldn't help but feel bad. Partially bad.

"It is, but he doesn't deserve your pity sweetheart." Aaron's hand fell atop yours, giving your knuckles a gentle pat. "Ready to head out?"

You nodded yes, "I've been ready."

After tossing some bills on the counter, Aaron properly grabbed your hand this time. The two of you headed for the exit, Aaron's hold on your hand tightening - to not lose you amidst the crowd, or for anyone else to make a pass at you.

"Is this the part where I say I can show you what a real FBI agent can do?" Aaron teased, a delightful little smirk on his face as he opened the door.

You laughed. "Whatever makes you happy. And benefits me."

[woso-dreamzzz]

Sound III

Steph Catley x Child!Reader

Summary: Your first day at school

"Go on," Steph says," Go and stand with Calvin and I'll take a picture."

You shift a little on your feet as you do as you're told.

Steph's been floating on air this whole morning.

She made you a special breakfast of pancakes and strawberries. She brushed your hair gently and helped your change into your new uniform.

You think she might end up crying too but that's only because your best friend told you that's what her mothers did when they were in the shop to buy her new uniform.

"You're so grown up now, angel," Steph says from behind her camera," I might cry."

You knew that would happen and you shuffle forward to hug her.

She's much bigger than you. She's always been bigger than you but that's okay because Steph says you've got a much bigger heart than her so you try to force all of your love into this hug for her.

"It's only a half day, alright?" She says, though it seems like she's trying to remind herself more than you," So I'll be picking you up right before lunch and we'll head back to training. I'm sure the others are all going to be so excited to hear about your day."

"Okay, Mummy."

"And..." Steph trails up, biting at her lip for a moment before kneeling down and drawing your closer. "There's going to be a lot of kids and they won't be like your friends at camp. They might not...understand that-"

"That I have to wear extra ears?"

"That you have to wear hearing aids, that's right. Do you remember your rules?"

You do.

Of course you do.

Steph made sure you memorised all of them during summer, insisting that they were important for your wellbeing.

"Don't let anyone touch my ears. No turning off my ears and remember that my new friends might not know how to sign so I have to use my voice."

Steph smiles. "Good girl. And make sure that if anyone teases you, you go straight to the teacher to let them know."

You nod. "I will, Mummy."

Steph doesn't end up crying at home though her eyes water slightly as she loads you up into the car.

She doesn't even cry when she leaves you in your new classroom with your new teacher and your new classmates.

She does cry in the car though.

In the car.

On the way to training.

At training.

She just can't seem to stop.

"She's so big now," Steph sobs into Beth's shoulder," So big. When did she get so big?"

"Still crying?" Kyra asks with a dismissive eye roll.

"Has been for the past half an hour," Alessia replies," Beth had to convince her not to pick y/n up early."

"Y/n's a great kid. I'm sure she's having the best time."

"Don't tell Steph that. It might be too much to cope with."

The hours tick by slowly or at least they do to Steph. For what feels like every half an hour, she looks up at the clock to find only five minutes have passed.

It's excruciatingly painful and it's clear to everyone that she's not really listening so it's no surprise that Steph is up and gone like a shot the minute her alarm goes off.

She's early to pick up, anxiously parked outside the school and tapping her steering wheel before your class comes out.

You're near the front like she told you to be, your pastel pink backpack practically dwarfing you in size as you come out.

"Hey, angel," Steph coos as you go running into her arms, burying your face into her neck," Hey. I missed you today."

"Missed you too, mummy," You reply, your voice small and quiet like it usually is," I kept my ears on. I didn't let people touch them. I spoke as I signed too."

"Good girl," Steph says, easily lifting you up into her arms," And was it good? School? Did you have fun?"

You look a little nervous but still nod. "I think so."

Steph doesn't want to pry too deep into that while still on school grounds but there's a horrible sinking feeling in her chest at your words.

They play on her mind as she drives back to training. They're at the very front of her thoughts as she watches you go off to play with Kyra, Vic and Alessia.

She almost wears the floor down with her pacing as your words circle her head without respite.

You were a little nervous to tell her. You weren't sure if you had fun at school.

You certainly look like you're having fun now though as Kyra grabs you from behind and swings you around in the air before Vic and Less pounce and tickle your tummy.

You shriek with laughter and Steph doesn't want to think about you not having this kind of fun at school too.

She doesn't want to think about it all but she can't help it, calling out to stop your play before she even realises what she's done.

"Hey," She says, taking your hands and sitting down on the grass with you," I wanted to talk to you. Can we talk?"

You're still smiling - that infectious smile you have that makes everyone smile with you. "We can talk, Mummy!"

"I wanted to talk about school."

Your bright smile drops immediately. "Oh."

Steph draws you closer until you're firmly sat on her lap and she can hold your properly.

"I need you to be honest with me. Can you do that?"

"I can do that."

Steph takes a big breath before asking," Did you enjoy school? This is important."

You say something but it's a mumble and Steph has to strain to hear you.

"I enjoyed it. Had a lot of fun."

Steph frowns. "Then why did you say you weren't sure earlier."

You nibble at the inside of your cheek for a moment before you say," You looked sad this morning when you were getting me ready. I didn't want you to be more sad if it looked like I had more fun at school."

"Oh...Well..." Steph takes a moment to compose herself, to think through her muddle of thoughts. "You don't have to be scared to tell me these things, angel. I don't want you to feel like you can't tell me things. I just want you to be happy."

[nineteenninety-six]

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ Midnight Coffee

Pairing: John Shen x wife!doctor!Reader

AN: This is for all my Dr Shen truthers out there! Reader works in the morgue and is a doctor but I'm totally clueless about the nitty-gritty details so I left it vague. I did want to expand and write more but I was desperate to post this.

WC: 839

Warnings: Hospital inaccuracies, mentions on dead bodies and the results of Pittfest.

Synopsis: You take a much needed breather with your husband.

You were used to death. It was your job. Day in day out you saw and worked with death but today took a lot from you. The sheer amount of people who died brutally and scared for no other reason other than the selfish actions of a man.

You were drowning in the morgue, it was non stop for hours for you and your colleague, David, your turn that night after the ED and surgery had their chaos earlier that evening. There was a lull, a brief respite where you should relax back into a chair, close your eyes to relieve them from the strain and flex and rest your aching hands.

David watches you from their position across the table, they had arrived much later than you did and so you did a lot of work alone, which was something you did often enough but today was not an ordinary day.

"Take a breather" David tells you, "Fifteen-twenty minutes. Get a coffee and some fresh air."

You considered saying no but you honestly knew that you needed a break and so you nod, murmuring a 'thank you' as you push yourself up with a soft groan.

You grab yourself some shitty staffroom coffee before you walk to the ambulance bay and lift yourself up on the brick wall, letting your feet dangle freely. You smile as the cool breeze washes over you, it was stuffy in the morgue so this was a blessing.

Your smile quickly drops once you sip your shitty coffee.

"Hey"

You look over your shoulder and smile at the sight of your husband approaching you with an iced coffee and his hoodie.

"You're a sight for sore eyes" The sweet smile on your face is the one that is reserved only for your husband.

"Yeah?" John hands you the dunkin' iced coffee as he stands between your spread legs. "I hope you're always happy to see me."

"I am." You hum around your straw before the warmth of his hoodie envelopes you making you shiver in pleasure,"But with today... I really am glad to see your face."

John places his hands on your thighs, giving them a squeeze as he hums in agreement, "How long do you have?"

"Ten, maybe fifteen minutes" You check your watch, "You?"

"Ellis will come running if I'm needed"

"Not very attending like behaviour Dr Shen" You tease, "I'm telling Gloria first thing."

"Maybe she'll fire me and I can finally become a house husband."

"Not with that attending money you're making you're not" You scoff.

"So you're telling me you only married me for my money" John jokes.

"Yeah" You laugh, "Let's just forget the last ten years we've spent together and the fact you only became an attending three months ago."

"Can't believe we've been together for ten years" John pressed closer to you," How many more will you put up with me for?"

You wrap your arms around his neck, "At least for another five years but honestly... forever. I want to be by your side forever."

John pulls you into a soft but passionate kiss, pulling you deeper in love with him.

"And what about becoming Dr Shen?" John asks .

"I'm already married to you, you don't have to beg me anymore."

John laughs "First of all, I did not beg you. If I remember correctly, you enthusiastically said yes. Screamed it even. Besides, you know what I'm talking about."

"Sorry babe" You pull back slightly so you can look him in the eye. "I like my last name plenty enough and there's only enough space for one Dr Shen in this hospital."

"Is that a compliment?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

John rolls his eyes at your non-answer but this was a common light hearted back and forth between you, it was just a form of teasing and flirting for you two.

Your watch buzzes signalling the end of your break and you sign disappointedly. You took a couple more desperate mouthfuls of the iced coffee before returning it to John, not being allowed to bring a drink down to the morgue, along with his jumper before jumping off of the brick ledge you perched yourself on.

"Alright, I've got to go but I'll see you at the end of the shift."

"You think you'll be done by then?" John asks as he walks you to the elevator.

You shrugged, "No clue but Gloria has already given so much overtime tonight, I hardly doubt she will allow or approve anymore lest we lose ten nurses in return."

As the elevator reached their floor, you pulled John in a grounding comforting hug that will help you power through the rest of your day.

"I love you," You murmured into his chest, "So much."

"I love you too" John presses a soft kiss to your lips, "More than you can imagine."

You step away and into the elevator, pressing your floor and you wave at John until the doors close in front of you.

[bizarrelovetriangel]

let's get physical.

reader uses her charms to make rafayel feel more motivated to work out.

fluff ft. whiny raf <3

Rafayel caresses your thighs as you sit on his lap, moaning as your lips tenderly presses against his. His hands snuck through the hem of your shirt to feel the softness of your skin. From the moment he pushed up to remove the clothing, you pulled away.

"Wait, don't go cutie. I want more..."

You smiled and gently pinched his cheeks.

"No problem~"

You then descended from his lap and stepped away from the couch.

"But first, give me twenty reps of sit-ups."

"....huh?!"

Suddenly, he's looking at you as if you're the ultimate traitor of his life.

"My ears must be deceiving me. I thought I heard you say something weird just now."

You took Rafayel's hands and held it just as he started to dramatically clean his left ear with his left pinky finger.

"Let's play a game, Rafayel."

Rafayel caught the mischievous glint in your eyes and became nervous. And yet still, he asked, "What kind of game?"

"For every time you either do twenty reps on anything or do five minutes in the treadmill, you can have some kisses. Or headpats. Or a snack if that's what you prefer."

"No, I want the kisses!" he pouted. "That's what you promised me so you have to committ if you're gonna reward me for getting tortured."

Rafayel huffs before marching towards his closet to pull out his work out clothes.

"I'll wait for you at the gym!"

///////

Rafayel started with his favorite cardio machine.

While you do your own sets of exercises nearby, he power walks on the the treadmill while ocassionally muttering under his breath about how evil you are.

You did feel bad a little. You know he doesn't really enjoy working out, but Rafayel himself was the one that told you to make sure he works out at least once a week, no matter how much he cries about it, as that is what his doctor recommends him to do.

The least you can do is make it more bearable for him, even if it means giving him silly little rewards.

"Okay, five minutes done!"

"Yay!" you spread your arms wide open. "Come here~"

His first instinct was to excitedly run into your inviting embrace, but he remembered your villain-like idea and frowned. "Hmph." He crossed his arms and looked away. "No way I'd run into the arms of an evil witch who wants my heart to jump out of my chest."

"So you don't want kisses? That's fine - "

"No wait I was just joking! Come back!"

Rafayel jumps into your arms and immediately attacks your lips.

//////

"I think I'm dying. Be prepared to become a widow, my beloved bride."

"Relax you big baby. You only did ten reps of sit-ups." You were kneeling down by his feet, making sure he comes up properly for a full rep. "Ten more and then you get to take a break, so hurry."

"Ugh."

He forced himself to keep going even though his abs were already burning up. This is already the second set: just one and he'll be free...until the next exercise.

Rafayel searched for a distraction so he could stop thinking about the pain, and he didn't need to wander further. All he had to do was look straight at you.

You're wearing a simple shirt and shorts, several strands of your hair have fallen out of place, and you're sweating from all the exercises you've been doing.

And yet, you're still a sight for sore eyes.

"...why'd you stop all of a sudden? You're on your last two reps!"

Rafayel's ears turns pink. "Just saw something pretty, that's all."

The way you immediately started to look around to search for whatever had caught his eyes bought a giggle out of him.

///////////

"Like this?"

"Raf, no! You'll injure yourself like that!"

You rushed to his side to adjust his posture as he attempts to work out his shoulders.

It's definitely not the first time he's done this exercise and he absolutely does know the proper posture.

But you don't need to know that right now.

Not when your hands are all over him.

////////////

"So dizzy..."

Rafayel drops to his knees after the final exercise. Sweat is dripping from his forehead, neck, chest and back, causing his shirt to stick to his skin. His heart is pounding and his throat is craving for water.

"I'm gonna disintegrate in three seconds."

Before he could dramatically fall to the floor, you appeared in front of him and patted his head.

"There, there. You did so well!"

Rafayel wrapped his arms around your waist and rested a side of his face against your stomach. You brought with you a small towel so you could wipe the sweat off his face.

"Since you worked so hard, how about we go out for lunch? We need to eat lots of protein!"

"Oh! I know just the place! Let's go right now!" He ran towards his bedroom to start changing his clothes but paused as he realized he's not in the best state to go out. "But wait, we have to take a bath first!"

"That's true. You can first - "

"Don't be silly, cutie." He caught your hand and started to pull you to the direction of his bathroom. "We'll save lots of time if we do it together. Let's try one of the bath bombs that we got last week!"

Your eyes lit up as you remembered what he was referring to. "I forgot about that! Okay let's go!"

You and Rafayel quickly set up the bathtub, adjusting the water in the temperature that he prefers.

Once you're both inside, with your bodies submerged in sparkling, floral, pink and purple foamy water from the bath bomb, Rafayel let out a sigh of content.

He's resting his back against the rim of the bathtub, arms over yours while you rest your head on his chest as you blow some of the bubbles on the water.

Sure, the exercises were literally a pain in the ass, but with all the rewards that it came with, Rafayel felt that maybe working out isn't so bad.

As long as it's with you.

As long as it gets to end like this with you every time, he'll never complain about working out ever again.

"Maybe I like working out, after all."

/////////////

"Are you serious, Rafayel?! Let go of the doorknob!" You're trying to drag him to the gym but he won't budge.

"Never! I'm still sore from the exercises we did two days ago!"

"That means you're making good progress! Come on, we have to keep going!"

"Noooo!! Reddie! Help me!!"

[woollypoison]

One way ticket: part 1

Itzy Yeji x m reader This is the first part of a mini-series I'm trying out to get me back into writing by myself. This part is all fluff, no smut here yet. Later parts will have smut, so stick around for that? Word count: 2,344

The faint mumblings of the station’s announcement system were humming in the background. The air was cool and carried the metallic tang of distant rain. The kind of atmosphere that makes you think about the bittersweet moments in life. You tightened your grip on the handle of your suitcase, plastic handle digging into your palm as you checked the train schedule for the third time that evening. Despite what your anxiety was telling you, you weren't running late. In fact, you had arrived an hour earlier than you needed to—anxious, restless, and uncertain about the journey ahead. The train would be here any minute now.

The one-way ticket in your pocket felt heavier than its weight in paper should have allowed. The destination printed on it was one you had hoped never to return to: the town where everything had started—and where you had left everything behind. But here you were, standing on this station platform, waiting for the train that would take you back.

The overhead speakers crackled to life, announcing the imminent arrival of your train.You adjusted the strap of your backpack, your heart beating faster with every passing second. The platform wasn’t crowded, but there were enough people milling about to make you feel uneasy. Couples whispered to each other, families struggled with their luggage, and a few solo travelers stared blankly at their phones.

That’s when you saw her.

At first, it was just a fleeting sense of familiarity, a trick of the mind in a sea of strangers. This wasn’t your hometown, she wouldn’t be here. But then she turned her head, and your chest tightened as recognition hit you like a freight train. Yeji.

She was leaning against one of the station’s old iron pillars. Her hair was loose, flowing down her shoulders in soft waves, and she wore a grey sweater over a simple white shirt and black jeans. She looked… as pretty as when you left. Like a memory brought to life, sharper and more vivid than you could ever remember.

For a moment, you thought about turning away, pretending this couldn’t be real. But then her eyes met yours, and there was no escaping it anymore. Her expression froze, her lips parting slightly as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. You felt the same.

She recovered faster than you did, her posture straightening as she began walking toward you. Your feet, however, seemed rooted to the spot.

She only voices a single word, but it's the way she says your name that cuts through any illusions you had of avoiding your past. It was a sound you hadn’t heard in years, yet it struck a chord deep within you.

You cleared your throat, trying to mask the chaos inside. "Yeji. Hi."

Her pace slowed as she came to a stop a few feet away. Up close, you could see the subtle changes time had made to her face. She looked… more mature, more assured. The playful energy she used to radiate was still hiding in there, but it was controlled now, grounded in a way that made her seem even more beautiful.

"I can’t believe it’s you," she said, her tone equal parts surprise and apprehension.

You managed a forced smile. "Yeah. Me neither."

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken words and memories that neither of you seemed ready to confront. Yeji was the first to break the tension.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her head tilting slightly as she studied you. Her voice was softer now, almost hesitant.

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. How much you had the right to reveal. "I… I’m heading back to town. For a while."

Her brows knitted together in a faint frown, shock ever present on her face. as if those were the last words she expected you to say. "Back to town? Why?"

"My aunt," you said, the words feeling heavy in your mouth. "She passed away. I’m handling the arrangements and everything."

Her expression softened, and she looked down briefly before meeting your gaze again. "I’m sorry. She was always so kind to me."

"Yeah," you said, your throat tightening. "She was."

Another silence stretched between you, and you couldn’t tell if it was more awkward or painful. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, glancing toward the train that had come to a stop behind you.

"Are you taking this one?" she asked, nodding toward the train.

"Yeah," you replied, confirming your destination. "Last one heading that way tonight."

"Same.”

You weren’t supposed to be surprised at this. For all you knew, she still lived where you left her. You couldn’t help but be shocked nonetheless. You were about to spend the next several hours on the same train. Together. Your stomach churned at the thought. This wasn’t how you’d imagined seeing her again, if you ever saw her again at all.

She glanced down at her ticket, then back at you. "Well… I guess we’d better get on."

You nodded, though your feet felt like they were moving on autopilot as you followed her toward the train. 

The compartment you entered was relatively empty, its rows of seats illuminated by the harsh overhead lights. Yeji walked down the aisle and chose a seat by the window, setting her bag on the floor beside her. You hesitated, not sure if it was alright, before sitting down in the seat across from hers. It felt like the most natural thing to do, and yet, your heart was pounding as if you’d just committed a crime.

The train gave a low groan as it began to pull out of the station, the rhythm of the wheels on the tracks quickly settling into a steady cadence. It was the one thing keeping you calm. You stared out the window, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts you couldn’t untangle.

Yeji broke the silence again. "So… how have you been?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Uh… I’ve been okay. Busy, I guess. Work, life. You know how it is."

She raised an eyebrow. "Do I?"

Ouch. She had all the right to call you out. You winced at her response. "Right. Sorry. That was…"

"Generic?" she interrupted, her lips curving into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. It was performative. She wasn’t going to take any of your standoffish bullshit.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair halfheartedly. "Yeah. Generic."

She nodded, her gaze drifting toward the window, clearly disappointed. For a while, you sat in silence, the sound of the train’s wheels filling the void again. You couldn’t help but glance at her, noticing the way her fingers tapped lightly against her knee, a habit you remembered all too well. She was nervous, too. Uneasy, even.

"I… I didn’t expect to see you," you admitted, taking your responsibility to break the silence this time.

She turned back to you, her expression distant. Her guard was up. "Neither did I."

The weight of her gaze made it hard to breathe, and for a moment, you couldn’t help but think about all the things you wanted to say. But the words wouldn’t come. You wouldn’t allow them to come. You had no right. Instead, you looked away, focusing on the blur of the dark countryside outside the window.

She sat across from you, leaning slightly against the window, her chin resting on her hand as her gaze followed the passing darkness outside. The faint glow from the overhead light illuminated her features—the soft curve of her cheek, the sharp line of her jaw. She was both familiar and unfamiliar, a memory brought vividly back to life.

“So,” she continued, not letting another silence fill the void between you. “How long are you staying?”

You hesitated. You didn’t have the answer to that question. “I’m not sure. However long it takes to handle everything with my aunt’s estate.”

She nodded but didn’t look at you. Her fingers played idly with the strap of her bag, another one of her habits you remembered all too well. It struck you how surreal this was—sharing a train compartment with her after all these years. You were two people carrying the weight of a shared past, both of you struggling with how to unpack it.

“And after that?” she asked. “Are you planning to stay?”

You shook your head with uncertainty. “No. I… I don’t think so.”

Her eyes drifted downwards slowly as her tensed shoulders slumped ever so slightly. She turned to face you, her brows furrowing slightly. “So it’s temporary.”

“Yeah.”

Yeji studied you for a moment, her dark cat-like eyes sharp and assessing. It was unnerving how easily she could see through you, even now. She didn’t say anything, just nodded and went back to looking out the window. You could feel the distance between you two grow, as real and unyielding as the space separating your seats.

After a while she spoke up again. Her tone was casual, almost offhanded. “You’ve changed.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Have I?”

“Yeah. You’re quieter.”

You let out a dry laugh. “Maybe I’ve just run out of things to say.”

She gave you a look—half amused, half skeptical. “That’s hard to imagine. You used to talk my ear off.”

“Things are different now,” you said, shame undermining your volume.

Her expression shifted, and for a moment, she looked like she wanted to say something. But she stayed silent, staring out the window again. The train slowed down as you approached a station, and the sound of the brakes screeching filled the air.

You wanted to ask her about her life, about what she’d been doing all this time, but the questions felt intrusive, like prying open a door to a room you no longer had the right to enter. Still, the curiosity gnawed at you. She was here, sitting across from you, and you couldn’t ignore the pull she had on you.

“What about you?” You asked finally. “How have you been?”

She shrugged at your question, her fingers still toying with the strap of her bag. “I’ve been fine. Busy. Work keeps me on my toes.”

You nodded, unsure how to respond. The conversation felt stilted, like you were two strangers making polite small talk. But you weren’t strangers—never were. There was too much history between you.

“And what about…” you hesitated, unsure if you should even go there. “What about everything else? Family, friends?”

Yeji glanced at you, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Like a sense of reassurance that you still remembered everyone you left. “Everyone’s good. Life goes on, you know?”

“Yeah, it does,” you said, though the words felt hollow. Life did go on, but it had a way of leaving certain things behind—people, memories, opportunities.

The train picked up speed again, the lights outside streaking into a blur. The silence between you stretched out, not quite comfortable but not unbearable either anymore. You could feel her presence like a magnet, drawing you in despite the invisible wall she’d built around herself. You wanted to break through it, to reach her, but you didn’t know how.

“So, you’re back for your aunt,” she said, her voice cutting through your thoughts. “That must be hard.”

“It is,” you admitted. “She was… she was always there for me. One of the few people I could count on.”

Yeji’s expression softened, and she nodded. “She was a good woman. She always made me feel welcome, even when…” She trailed off, her gaze dropping to her hands. “Even when things weren’t so great between us.”

You swallowed hard, the guilt washing over you. Your aunt had adored Yeji, treated her like family. She was devastated when you left, upset you’d leave this life behind for stupid reasons, but she never stopped sending letters for birthdays. Trying to maintain contact.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice crumbling. “She had a way of making people feel that way. She cared, you know? A lot."

Yeji didn’t respond, but you could see the emotions playing across her face—nostalgia, sadness, maybe even a hint of anger. You wanted to say something to make it better, to bridge the gap between the two of you, but you didn’t know where to start.

The train entered another tunnel, and the lights in the compartment flickered slightly. In the brief darkness, you could feel the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on you. You wanted to reach out, but you held back. You didn’t think you had the right—not after everything you’d done.

When the lights stabilized again, Yeji was looking at you, her expression wavering. Her voice grew quiet, almost pleading. “Do you ever think about it?”

“About what?”

“About what could have been. If things had gone differently. If you hadn’t left.”

The elephant in the room. You never gave her any explanation before, and you struggled to find the right response now. Did you think about it? Every damn day. But saying that out loud felt too raw, too vulnerable. 

“Yeah,” you said finally. Maybe it was time to be vulnerable. After removing yourself from her life without being able to forget her, that was the least you owed her. “I think about it.”

She nodded , her gaze dropping to her lap in understanding. “Me too.”

The confession hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. For a moment, it felt like the years of distance and silence had melted away, leaving only the two of you and the fragile connection you’d once shared. But the moment passed, and the wall between you was back. There was nothing you could say.

The train rumbled on, carrying you closer to a destination you weren't sure you were ready to face. But for the first time in years, you felt a flicker of hope—fragile and tentative, but real. And you knew that no matter what happened, you couldn’t let this chance slip away. Not again.

[hellsslibrary]

Can I request what rin, sae and hiori would do on the reader's birthday (you know nsfw stuff ♡)

Happy Birthday to Me or How I Lost the Ability to Walk Even Though I'm a Top (This is a quote from some manga I can't remember the name of but it fits here).

MASTERLIST is here.

#a.n. : I have absolutely nothing to say but if anyone is reading this on their birthday then happy birthday to you sweeties!!

!!Warnings: male!top!reader, bottom!characters, they're all sub but Sae is a little bit of a dom (I'm just a sucker for the "pathetic" top trope or something, you don't get it), Hiori's scenario is very funny and weird, very. In Sae's mentions clothes (you know), in Hiori's mentions video games (yeah), Rin is nothing special, he's the most normal one in this scenario I swear. Otherwise just praise, a little teasing and a very enthusiastic reader here.

Hiori Yo

"Is this...? What is this, Yo?" you ask in incomprehension, staring at his computer screen, trying to figure out what you actually see here.

Well, more precisely, you understood what you were seeing, but you clearly didn't understand why he was showing it.

"This is us, in Sims 4... Having sex. What is unclear?" he answers by tilting his head to the side with a slight blush coloring his cheeks, looking first at the screen and then at you.

"So my gift is watching porn with us, or rather with toy models of us?" you laugh when two people who look like you change their positions in a game that looks very good... unrealistic, but who really cares.

"No," Hiori shakes his head slowly, removing the headphones around his neck and placing them on the table, then poking you in the chest. "They can do it on any surface and in any position... If you like a certain pose, then we'll try it in reality."

You just blink like an owl, not understanding anything at all, but taking the mouse from him and poking it on the countertop, choosing random poses from the list, watching how sim of Hiori literally bends in different poses, which looks pretty hot, even if stupid.

It takes about fifteen minutes while you're pointing at various pieces of furniture and looking at all sorts of poses from different angles, sometimes you both giggle at some strange animations until one catches your eye.

"It," comes out of your mouth, and Hiori stares at the screen, watching his sim sit on the table while the life is practically being fucked out of him, judging by the pace of the thrusting.

"Really? Dear, it's a little..." the word doesn't come out of his mouth when he bites his lip in embarrassment, but after hesitating for a couple of seconds, he gets up from his chair, taking off his sweatpants along with his underwear and sitting on the edge of the table. "I'm already prepared, so you can just slide inside."

You immediately smile like a child who has received the most coveted sweet, and you almost frantically undo your belt, which is not particularly possible because of the trembling in your fingers. So you just unbutton your fly and take out your dick.

"Really? Can I do it raw?" Hiori hums in response to this question, and then shrugs his shoulder vaguely, spreading his legs as an answer, and squeaks when you squeeze his hips right there.

Hiori's back arches when he feels your cock sliding in at a much more gentle pace than your sims, who continue to fuck behind Hiori's back. His fingers grip the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white as his feet lightly scratch the table.

"Wrap your legs around me, please?"

Yo silently obeys, grabbing your shoulders instead, absolutely spoiling the pose, but neither of you really care anymore. After all, today is your day, and if that's what you want, then Hiyori wants to obey.

He moans softly into your neck as his legs lock over your tailbone and an intermittent whimper escapes his lips when your cock finally touches the right spot inside him. A point that makes him see the stars and the moon, which only you can bring.

The blue-eyed man feels his cock twitching against his stomach, and his orgasm is approaching embarrassingly fast, he just wants to cum. Why is it so fast? Who knows... But obviously not from the disgusting sounds of the game in the background.

"Cum for me, come on," you whisper, sliding your lips over his neck, making him tilt his head back in bliss.

Your teeth outline his adam's apple, causing his breathing to stop and his nails to dig into you this time. He bubbles something unintelligible when he feels your hand on his cock, rubbing its current tip, making him cum almost at the same second, which makes you slow down the thrusts slightly, making them deeper to prolong his pleasure for a couple of seconds.

"... More, go on," Hiori mutters after a dozen seconds, licking his dry lips and lifting his half-closed eyes at you and exhaling. "I'm all yours today, so keep going... I'll tell you when I'm at the very edge."

Sae Itoshi

"Are you going to stare at me with that expression for a long time? At least close your mouth," Sae says, looking at your surprised face in the doorway while you stare at him for about a minute, still trying to figure out what's sitting in front of you.

"That's... you... wow..." something inarticulate weakly escapes from your lips until you finally leave the doorway, closing the door and approaching Itoshi.

Of course, nothing too surprising was sitting on the bed. It was just Sae. In your usual T-shirt. In regular shorts. With a normal expression on his face. With damn attractive thigh-high stockings that accentuated his thick and muscular legs too well. Yes, you know, the usual Tuesday of any person.

"Do you like it that much?" Sae asks when a slight smirk blooms on his lips, watching you sit down in front of him, spreading and sliding his legs as you please.

"Yes, it suits you damn well, it's simple gorgeous... Strangle me with them," you whisper, squeezing his hips and exhaling contentedly, feeling the elastic muscles under your fingers.

Sae's fingers lift your chin and he gives you a light peck on the forehead before kissing you on the lips. His kiss is slow, almost savoring, as he weaves your tongues together, tugging at your shirt to get you up.

You lower Sae to the bed, continuing to kiss him, and then pulling away, lowering your lips lower, kissing and occasionally sucking on the delicate skin of his neck, causing a soft sigh to escape his lips before he stopped you at the edge of the T-shirt.

"Too fast. Don't go any further than the neck... Today is your day, but you have to earn it," the Japanese man whispers against your lips and then you feel his fingers slide into your pants while his other hand unbuttons your fly and releases your cock.

Your breath catches when you feel his fingers wrap around your heated flesh, and your face immediately finds itself in the curve of his shoulder, causing him to briefly pat you on the head.

"I'll give you what you want anyway. Just wait."

You bite your lip to keep from whimpering when Sae's thumb runs over your slit, and images of what he might let you do to him when the time comes are already spinning in your head.

Your hands are clutching the sheets on either side of his face, and his lips are lazily sliding over your neck, sucking on your skin, forcing you to push into his hand, which he freely allows.

"Sae... I will cum now, please," you exhale and feel only the nod of his head at your side as he speeds up his hand movements a little, making you come embarrassingly quickly with a groan.

Sae kisses you on the temple, removing his hand after a couple of seconds, when the buzz finally subsides and gently pushes you to your side, sitting up straight and taking napkins from the table, wiping his hand and your penis from the sperm.

"Good boy. Take a break and let's continue... There's a lot more under my clothes," Sae whispers, turning away to the trash can and deliberately bending over too much, exposing a thin strip of panties under his shorts, which makes your soft cock twitch in anticipation of the next round.

Rin Itoshi

"Is that really all you want? You can ask for more, you know," Rin whispers, leaning over you, shaking his head slightly and taking your condom-wrapped cock in his palm, stroking it a couple of times.

"Yes! Definitely, that's it. Please? I just want you to do this," you whisper, making Rin sigh, but nod and lower himself onto your cock slowly.

He exhales sharply as he takes you completely and places his hands next to your head, considering that he's almost lying on top of you and looking up at you with his turquoise eyes.

You just smile and kiss him on the cheek, which makes him frown slightly but blush, and he begins to gently move his hips. Of course, it's not very convenient in this position, but he promised.

"You're wonderful from this angle, otherworldly, Rinnie," Rin just tightening around you from the compliment, leaning in even lower and gagging you with a kiss, but hey, you're not complaining.

You put your hands on his cheeks, knowing full well that he's going to scold you, because he wants to take at least one round without your support, so you're not taking any chances.

Your tongues slide against each other, and then he pulls away with heavy breathing, resting his forehead on yours, maintaining his slow rhythm, looking down at where you connect.

"You're very deep, I want more," he whispers breathlessly, closing his eyes and focusing on his movements, trying not to rush too much, but to make it pleasant for both of you and not cum faster than you, not this time.

"Then take more, I don't mind," you close your eyes too, feeling his eyelashes lightly brush your forehead as his face slides forward a little and you squeeze his biceps, absolutely enjoying him.

"I love you. Happy birthday again," Rin says, forcing you to open your eyes and you are met with a surprisingly soft smile, albeit almost imperceptible on his face but fuck.... "...Did you just cum?"

"Uh..." You laugh shyly, grabbing Rin's hips to stop his movements, when they get a little painful from your sensitivity. "I love you too."

"The gods... Fuck me already, you're pathetic when I ride you," the younger Itoshi mutters, although there's no real mockery in his words, he just sighs when you flip you over, switching places and wrapping his legs around your waist.

[hittmeandtellmeyouremine]

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨

pairing: older bf!rafe x gf!reader

warnings: pure fluff, mentions of an age gap.

word count: 700+

summary: rafe has a surprise up his sleeve.

a/n: trying to get back into writing. i saw an edit to 'buy me presents' by sabrina on tt (specifically the second verse) and it got my gears going. i literally wrote this in an hour. i know christmas is over but lets just pretend!

"baby, come on! we got ten minutes to be out of the house!" rafe called from the bottom of the stairs.

"i can't find my shoes!" you yelled, stress evident in your tone.

you had a specific pair of heels in mind. you had been mentally assigning them the whole week, having your outfit planned two weeks in advance.

tonight was the country club's annual christmas eve party. rafe's dad used to make them go every year and the tradition just kind of stuck. here he was, years later, bringing you with him.

this wasn't your first time going. in fact, this would be your third time going as rafe's official girlfriend. you remember the first time like it was yesterday, being so nervous about what everyone would say about you two being together. rafe was a couple years older and had a reputation that preceded him, the town had their thoughts.

"i brought them downstairs for you!" he called.

you silently thanked god for him. he was always a few steps ahead of you, making your life easier when it seemed to be the opposite.

your feet padded their way through your bedroom as you shut the lights off and made your way downstairs. you expected your heels to be by the door but they weren't. neither was your boyfriend.

"babe?" you called out, turning the corner and looking for rafe.

"i'm over here baby" he said and your eyes found him sitting on the couch.

"there's my pretty girl" he cooed, smiling as his eyes ran over you in your red dress.

"hi" you blushed, making your way over and sitting next to him. his hand found its way to your thigh, softly running up it.

"see? you were all stressed out for nothing" he smiled, easing your nerves.

"i still can't find my shoes" you frowned a bit.

"oh, that's right. here" he feigned, pulling a wrapped box from behind him.

"what's this?" you questioned, taking the box in your hands. it was wrapped in gold wrapping paper with a pink ribbon tied around it, a bow sitting on top.

"open it" he encouraged.

you hesitated, savoring the pretty bow before your fingers pulled it undone. you found an edge and began to strip the gift of its wrapping paper.

you froze when your eyes landed on a black box with a white designer logo centered on it. you quickly realized what the gift was.

"you didn't" you said, a smile threatening to form.

"keep going princess" he urged.

you took the top of the box off and revealed the heels that you had been eyeing for months. the versace ones you gave up on getting because they had sold out everywhere. you were devastated. rafe was away on a business trip and you called him crying when you couldn't get them. he had calmed you down, told you maybe it just wasn't meant to be and you would get a different pair.

"oh my god! how did you get them?" you squealed, fingers running over the shoes.

"i made a few calls" he smiled, happy you loved them.

rafe knew you like the back of his hand. the second you mentioned the shoes he had made sure he got them in your size. he acted as if he was busy on his work trip, which he was but never too busy for his girl. he even took the liberty of making sure, for one reason or another, you couldn't get them yourself.

the same way he had waited until you were occupied earlier. once you were, he hid the heels he knew you planned on wearing tonight so he could surprise you with the ones you really wanted. everything went according to plan.

whatever his girl wants, she gets.

"thank you! thank you! thank you!" you squealed, throwing your arms around him happily and kissing him.

he gladly kissed you back, arms tightening around your waist and pulling you closer.

"come on, let me put them on you"

you nodded and he took one of your legs, pulling it over his lap. he slipped the heel on your foot and made sure the straps were secure. he repeated the process to the other. you watched him in adoration, falling even more in love with him if that was possible.

he tapped your thigh, signaling you when he was done so you could get up and walk around in them. you smiled wide, admiring the new heels on your feet.

"ugh, they're perfect! i love them rafey!" you smiled, looking at them in the mirror.

"they look nice baby" he smiled, getting up from his spot on the couch to stand behind you. even with the added height, he still towered over you.

his arm hooked around your waist, fingers rubbing your side contently. you loved rafe cameron and you always would.

-

[archangeldyke-all]

Angel I need to share this with you. I saw this tiktok where a girls bf switched shoes with her on the way back from a night out. So he took off his shoes and gave them to her so she could be more comfortable, and then he put on her heels and walked the rest of the way back in them.

You think our sweet sev would do that???

- 🐥

oh COMPLETELY!!!

men and minors dni

this evening, when you decided to wear your most uncomfortable pair of heels, you were under the impression that tonight would be a lowkey dinner date, where the most walking you'd have to do was to and from the car.

that had been the plan. and dinner had been great. you and sevika spent the evening making lovey eyes across the table from one another, feeding one another bites of your dinner, and laughing.

but then you'd gotten back to your car, sevika had turned the key, and a horrible grinding noise rang out.

"fuck is that?!" you ask. sevika groans.

"it can't be good." she says.

so, your evening takes a turn. you spend forty five minutes sitting in the car waiting for a tow truck, then another forty five letting the mechanic poke around under the hood.

"yeah, i'm gonna have to take it to the shop." marcy the mechanic says. sevika groans and you rub her back.

"how long 'til it'll be ready?" your wife asks. marcy shrugs.

"two days, a week at most."

"a week?!" sevika cries.

you squeeze her shoulder. "relax, baby. marcy, thank you so much for coming out so late." you say.

"'course. you ladies need a ride home? it'll take a few minutes for me to get the car hitched to my truck, but i don't mind stopping on the way back to the shop."

you shake your head. you're tired and you just want to get home. you're only a few blocks away, and sevika probably needs the walk to calm down anyways. "that's alright, we'll hoof it. thanks marcy. text me when you get back to your shop safe, alright?" you ask.

marcy salutes you. "will do. you ladies have a good night. or... as good a night as you can, after this."

which is how you find yourself walking half a mile in your worst fucking shoes.

you manage just fine for the first few blocks. by the time you're in your neighborhood, your feet are aching and you're clinging to sevika's arm for support.

and now, three blocks from home, you just can't take it anymore.

"hold on, honey." you groan as you pull sevika to a bench. she frowns at you in concern.

"you alright?" she asks, pinching your cheek sweetly. you chuckle.

"my feet are killing me. just give me a few seconds to rest and i'll be good to go again."

sevika giggles and sits beside you, kissing your head. "didn't plan on an evening stroll, did ya?" she asks. you snort.

"no, i didn't."

"not our best date night." sevika laments. you laugh.

"not our worst either, though." you say.

"no? which one was our worst?"

"hmm... remember that time the restaurant caught on fire during our anniversary?"

sevika bursts into laughter. "you think that was our worst? our dinner was comped and we got free drinks for life!"

you snort. "well, what do you think our worst date's been?"

"the time we tried to go for a hike and a fucking hail storm started. i thought we were gonna get fuckin' iced off the mountain." she says.

you laugh and rest your head on your wife's shoulder. "god, that was horrible."

"or maybe the time we took jinx and isha to the aquarium and they both got food poisoning."

"they never shoulda eaten the fish sticks in that cafe. 's just wrong to eat fish in their own fuckin' house." you giggle.

"fuck, we were in that bathroom for hours."

"i'm just glad the cleaning staff was so fuckin' nice about all the vomit. i woulda banned us for life." you say.

sevika cackles and kisses your head. "how are your feet?"

"still sore, but i can manage."

"don't be stupid." sevika grunts. you frown, not understanding what she means until she bends over and starts untying her shoes.

"what're you doing?"

"i'll trade with ya."

"sevika!" you laugh. "we are not the same shoe size."

she giggles and shrugs. "so? we only got three blocks left."

"have you ever even walked in heels before?"

sevika shrugs again. "no. but how hard can it be?" she asks as she wiggles out of her shoes. you snort.

"sevika, you're gonna break your ankle."

"so, i'll hold your hand." she says. she shoots a mean glare at you, like she's daring you to protest further. you just roll your eyes and slip your heels off.

"i really don't wanna visit the hospital tonight, sev."

"i'll be fine." she giggles, handing you her fancy dress shoes and taking your heels in her hands.

you laugh as you watch her slip into them, standing with a slight wobble, before turning around and crouching to tie her shoes on your feet for you.

"my prince charming." you giggle. she winks up at you.

"i'm the one in the fancy slippers now, babe. think that makes me cinderella."

sevika helps you stand, and you sigh in relief at the feeling of your feet flat on the pavement. "thank you, love." you say, kissing her cheek. sevika winks at you, then weaves her arm in yours.

"anytime, dear."you start your walk back with slow, careful steps, holding onto sevika's arm and eyeing her feet in your stilettos. but, after a few moments, sevika lets out a scoff and straightens her spine. "this isn't so bad." she giggles. "look, i bet i could even--" she jumps a bit, and you cringe as she does.

"sevika! be careful!" you laugh.

your wife giggles, then starts jogging ahead of you. "oh, babe, these are easy. fuck are you complaining for? look!" she starts a little jig. you're shaking your head in disapproval, trying your best to swallow back your laughs. but when sevika trips and falls face first into your neighbor's front yard, you can't help but cackle.

kofi

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taglist!!

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@ferxanda @helaenabugmom @spookymomfriendtm @leeidk87 @cinnamowor1d

[lovemomhatepolice]

have you always been this beautiful? - oscar piastri

navigation taglist requests

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! reader

warnings: friends to lovers (??), alcohol, partying, swearing, p in v, blow job, pet names, protection used!, drunk sex, English is my second language!

type: smut with plot

word count: 4k

summary: You've never seen Oscar so drunk. And you've never seen Oscar with so many conflicting emotions. What would the evening bring you?

more content: formula 1 masterlist, oscar piastri masterlist, as a boyfriend - lando norris, as a boyfriend - charles leclerc, latest oscar's one-shot

Mclaren's win in the Championship was uncertain until the last moment. Lando led for a long time, battling with the two Ferraris behind him. Both teams fought for dominance - for both teams this was to be the evening that decided everything. And on that fateful day, Oscar Piastri ended up in 10th position - admittedly scoring points for Mclaren, but the bitterness was evident. Fortunately, only for a moment - the end of the race, Lando wins, Mclaren wins the Championship.

Such a frenzy has not been seen for a long time.

After all the celebrations, commemorative photos and interviews, it was time for a private party. You and Oscar's family returned to the hotel earlier than he did. You bathed, washed your hair and chose the perfect dress for the evening. It was short, black and left little to the imagination. But who would care about that? This evening was supposed to be full of celebration, alcohol and fun, right?

—————

“You've been looking at her for fucking ten minutes,” groaned an already slightly drunk Lando, poking Oscar on the shoulder. “Don't you know how to approach?”

“Rude?” muttered Oscar, glancing at his teammate. “I'm not staring.”

“Of course,” nodded Norris, taking Oscar under his arm and leading him crookedly to the bar. “You drink and go!”

“No, no-” Oscar tried to get out of the hands of the man, but it was not given to him.

Lando pressed his glass into Oscar's hand, grinning like an idiot. “Trust me, man. Liquid courage. You're going to need it,” he said.

Oscar sighed, combing his hand through his hair. He didn't need courage. He needed to take the plunge. But when he looked around the room and saw you laughing with his sisters, your head tilted back, your eyes gleaming in the golden glow of the chandeliers - his heart froze.

He took a sip. Then another. Before he knew it, he and Lando were drinking a line of colorful shots whose names he couldn't remember. The men at the bar laughed, drinking along with the drivers - Zak Brown, the mechanics, their fathers joined in. A nice artificial crowd had formed, but they were trusted people, so they could afford a moment of normality.

“There you go!” Lando cheered, tapping his glass against Oscar's, before stumbling away and going God knows where.

Oscar stayed at the bar, clutching his drink a little too tightly. He pretended for so long that there was nothing between the two of you. Because if there was nothing, nothing could go wrong. There was no risk of ruining what you had. There was no risk of losing you.

But today something was different. He had time, he had time to think things over and allow himself (in his intoxicated state) to have feelings that he kept at bay when he was sober.

You caught his gaze. You stopped them. You smiled.

Before he could stop himself, his feet began to move. The crowd blurred around him, music rumbled, laughter echoed. He stopped in front of you, suddenly realizing how close you were, how the scent of your perfume wrapped around him like a bloody spell.

“You washed up nicely,” you teased, looking at his starched suit.

Oscar laughed, shaking his head. You were drunk, too, you both were, and like Lando said, alcohol was your liquid salvation.

“And you…” He swallowed, letting his gaze lower for a moment, then raised it back up. “You look amazing.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused . “Incredible enough to stare at for ten minutes.”

He groaned. “Lando told you.”

“He said. I even dare say he shouted” You tilted your head, now in a softer voice, you were a little too bold. “But… I don't mind.”

Oscar felt his pulse thump against his ribs. The air between you changed, charged with something unspeakable. Something he had ignored for too long.

He should say something. He should finally come clean. After all, you were looking at him with those damn beautiful glowing eyes.

“Will you dance with me?” you asked, stepping closer and breaking the silence that had fallen between you.

He swallowed, but didn't protest. When you grabbed his hand, he knew there was nothing more he could do, let alone refuse. You led him to the dance floor, and he was too stunned to say anything. His head was swirling with thoughts, and his heart was beating too fast. Oscar had never been so drunk.

When you stopped, you turned to him and put your hands on his shoulders. He took a deep breath, his hand settled on your hip and took a step closer. Your faces were almost in contact. You felt each other's breath on your lips. Oscar felt a shiver run along his spine. You looked at him with an intensity that made his stomach flutter. His lips parted and he wanted to kiss you so badly that it was unbearable. Oscar had never been so drunk. Neither was you.

His hand tightened slightly on your waist, and his fingers tightened on the soft material of your dress. Your embrace on his shoulders reflected his tension, the silent understanding between you.

The music around you faded into the background, the throbbing bass barely registering in the hum of blood in Oscar's ears. He was no longer thinking - he was feeling. The warmth of your skin through the thin barrier of cloth, the way your breath brushed his lips, the way his heart pounded against his ribs as if trying to escape.

“You should kiss me” - you muttered, barely audible over the music, but it reached him.

His throat trembled as he swallowed, and his grip tightened even more. “I should,” he admitted, his voice hoarse, rougher than usual.

One bar passed.

Then another.

Until he finally gave in.

Oscar leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in the softest, most tentative kiss. It was only a whisper of contact, but it caused a jolt in both of you. Your fingers tightened on the material of his shirt, clinging to him.

At first he was hesitant - uncertain, as if held back by the weight of years of unspoken words and stolen glances. But then you breathed softly against his lips, melting into him, and all hesitation vanished.

His lips clamped tighter on yours, moving in a way that seemed like a confession. His free hand moved up to embrace your face, and his fingers wove into your hair, drawing you closer, as if he feared you would disappear.

The world blurred, everything but you and him became irrelevant. You were now just the two of you, wrapped in the golden glow of the room, captured in a moment that had waited too long.

When he finally pulled away, just enough to look at you, your eyes met his with an unspoken question.

"Come with me?" he asked, his voice low and thick with a promise. You could only nod. He didn't have to ask twice.

You may have been making a mistake when you left the party that evening, merely waving to Lando, who was drunkenly dancing with Zak Brown in the middle of the dance floor.

Maybe you were also making a mistake when you got into a private cab, giving the driver the address of your hotel, which he knew well by heart.

Maybe you were making a mistake when you sat there all warmed up, covered by his black jacket, his hand clamped on your thigh.

Maybe you were making a ton of mistakes - that day you could blame it on alcohol. But what about the others?

~~~

The elevator ride was quiet, thick with anticipation, neither of you daring to speak up. Oscar stood next to you, his fingers blindly wandering down your back, which sent shivers down your spine. The quiet buzzing of the hotel's machinery filled the space, the only sound other than your unsteady breathing. What were you guys doing?

You looked up at him, your pulse hammering in your throat. His jaw was clenched and his gaze fixed on the flashing numbers above the door. It wasn't hesitation - no, it was restraint. The battle raged beneath the surface of his usually composed appearance.

The door opened with a quiet clang. He grabbed your hand, his grip was strong, and his touch ignited something deep in your chest. Without a word, he led you down a dimly lit corridor, passing a door that hid secrets far less intoxicating than the one between you.

When you reached his room, he hesitated - just for a second, his fingers hovering over the card scanner. You knew he was giving you a chance to leave, to change your mind. But you didn't budge.

The quiet beep of the lock disengaging made your heart go up to your throat.

It was dark inside, illuminated only by the lights of the city piercing through the curtains. The door slammed behind you, the sound was final, locking you inside, whatever it was - that moment, that night, that undeniable force that neither of you had the strength to fight anymore.

His jacket slipped off your shoulders as he stepped forward and looked at you. You were all warmed up and it wasn't about the weather at all.

“Oscar…” You weren't sure if it was a warning of the unknown or an invitation.

His fingers found your waist, his touch burning even through the haze of alcohol. You felt more strongly than before.

“Tell me to stop,” he muttered in a thick voice, with eyes darker than you had probably ever seen.

You didn't.

Instead, you reached for him, and the last shred of restraint crumbled between you. You touched his shirt collar and pulled him tightly to you, bringing your lips together. It was more intense now than at the club. You were alone and could afford it.

He tasted like expensive alcohol and the forbidden fruit that it was. God, but you were hungry.

His lips clung to yours, his teeth gently tugging at your lower lip, his tongue tasting, exploring. You melted into him, unable to stop the moan that escaped your lips as he pressed his body against yours. He had hard muscles and a lean physique, and his embrace was bruised and demanding.

He kissed you as if the world was going to end tomorrow, as if the only thing that mattered was the touch of your lips, the taste of your mouth. You broke the kiss, both of you catching air greedily. His pupils were dilated, blackness engulfing his warm, hazel eyes.

“I've been dreaming of this for so long,” he admitted, and his voice was low and hoarse.

“Why didn't you do anything before?” you asked breathlessly, looking into his eyes.

“I couldn't mess up what we had,” he sighed, looking for at least some doubt in your eyes.

You exhaled, your fingers still tangled in his hair, your body still pressed against his. "And now?" you whispered, searching his face, your heart pounding so hard it drowned out the distant hum of the city.

His thumb brushed over your cheek, down to your swollen lips. "Now I can't stop myself," he murmured. "Tell me this isn't just the alcohol. I don’t want this to be something we regret in the morning"

You swallowed, still reeling from his touch, his kiss, the weight of everything unspoken. "Oscar…" Your fingers curled against his chest. "The only thing I'd regret is never knowing how this felt."

His lips curved in a smile, and his hands moved lower, resting on the curves of your hips. “I want you so much,” he breathed, placing a kiss on the corner of your mouth, ”I've always wanted you.”

You could feel the evidence of his desire on your thigh and you bit your lip. You felt dizzy and your chest ached with the longing that had been burning inside you for years.

“Then take me.” - you whispered, feeling a thrill of excitement as the words left your lips.

You weren't sure who initiated the kiss. Maybe it was you, or maybe it was him. Or maybe both of you at the same time, surrendering to the inevitable.

His lips met yours and this time there was no restraint. There was a hunger that you had suppressed for too long.

The world around you blurred, the only thing grounding you was Oscar—his touch, his breath, the way he held you as if afraid you’d slip away. The years of unsaid words, of lingering glances and missed opportunities, all unraveled in this moment.

His hands moved up your back, pressing you impossibly closer, as if proximity alone could make up for the time wasted in uncertainty. Your fingers traced the sharp angles of his jaw before slipping into his hair, tugging gently. A quiet groan rumbled in his throat, and something about it sent warmth flooding through you.

“Fuck, I can't believe I waited this long.” - he murmured into your mouth, his voice rough and marked by something like desperation.

You laughed, a breathless, delirious sound, and kissed him again, savoring the touch of his lips, the taste of his tongue. Your body was on fire, every nerve alive and buzzing with need.

He tugged at the zipper on the back of your dress, and you broke the kiss long enough for him to slide it off your shoulders, exposing the bare skin beneath. His gaze darkened, and his fingers moved lightly over your shoulders, leaving goosebumps on them.

“You're perfect.” - he breathed, his eyes roaming over you.

You trembled under his gaze, suddenly restrained. But before you had time to pull away, he kissed you again, his touch strong and sure.

You moaned into his mouth as his hands explored your body, teasing and enticing.

The bra material rubbed against your nipples and you felt a shiver of pleasure. He was everywhere, overwhelming you with his touch, his scent and the warmth radiating from him...

You quickly moved to the bed, where Oscar pushed you lightly. Your knees collided with the hard wood of the bed, while allowing you to collapse under the soft sheets. You looked straight into his eyes as he threw off his shirt. Your skin burned between Oscar and the silk sheets that surrounded you on all sides. You looked up at him uncertainly, feeling him looking down at you and breathing loudly.

You reached into the zipper of his pants, unable to bear the sight of his erection, which looked so painful behind his black pants. He exhaled sharply, closing his eyes, and you could feel him tremble. He looked down at you, his eyes dark and full of hunger.

"I've wanted you for so long." he murmured, his voice rough. "I've always wanted only you"

Your hands faltered as you undid the button and tugged at the zipper. He reached down and helped, his fingers brushing yours, sending a shiver of anticipation through you. When he pushed his pants and underwear down, freeing his erection, your breath caught in your throat. He was thick and hard, and the sight of him made your pulse race.

Oscar's breathing deepened as you knelt in front of him, changing your positions, and your hands touched him for the first time. He groaned and grabbed the bed sheets tightly, tilting his head back.

You wrapped your hand around him, and your touch was teasing, even unbearable.

You looked at him, and your lips parted in a gentle smile, knowing that he only felt that way because of you. Then you leaned in to place your first kiss on his tip, and your tongue slid out to taste him. He tasted salty, and a little musky, but not unpleasant. It was a taste you knew you would grow to love, because it was his. "Fuck, yes," he groaned, his voice strained. You closed your eyes, letting the sounds he made guide you. You were tentative at first, slowly getting used to the unfamiliar sensation, but then his hand settled on the back of your head, urging you on. You took him deeper, and the feeling of him filling your mouth, of his cock sliding across your tongue, was intoxicating. You hummed, and the vibration elicited another low moan from him. "So good," he murmured, his voice low and full of heat.

His head fell back onto the bedding, though he tried to maintain eye contact with you. You set a steady rhythm, and your lips worked at the same pace as your hands, looking at his body from under your lashes. Seeing his reaction, you quickened your pace and your movements became more confident. You let him slide deeper into your throat, to which Oscar involuntarily moved his hips, but he didn't want to force you into anything.

You pulled away from him for a moment, feeling how his stomach and thighs stretched, under the touch of your hands. Oscar breathed deeply, allowing himself to look at you. You kept him on edge, starting over by licking slowly along his length.

“Do you like that?” you giggled, however, seeing his reaction and the hand that gently touched your cheek

She giggled quietly before taking him back into her mouth, her tongue working expertly as she brought him closer to the edge. Oscar’s breaths became faster, and his grip on her hair tightened as his muscles tensed.

“I'm close,” he warned, his voice strained as he tried to restrain himself.

You didn't relent, continuing to drive him over the edge, the pleasure building in your core at the thought of what was to come. His cock twitched in your mouth, and his thighs shook as he finally came, spilling himself into your throat. You swallowed every last drop, the taste of him coating your tongue and throat, the heat of his release warming your insides.

Without hesitation, Oscar drew you right to him, clinging to your lips as never before. He could feel himself there, yet it did not bother him at all. What's more, he felt more excitement when he knew he could do it with you. He was happy that you were there and not someone else.

After a while, he rolled over, pinning you beneath him. He kissed the hollow of your throat, then trailed kisses down to your chest. Your heart pounded against his lips, and he couldn't get enough. His hand cupped one of your breasts, kneading the flesh and brushing his thumb across the nipple. "I want to taste you," he said, his voice husky. "Make you feel so good" He lowered himself down, taking a hardened bud into his mouth and sucking gently. You moaned, arching your back, and he took the opportunity to reach behind and unclasp your bra. It fell away, and his hand moved to your other breast, kneading and teasing. He kissed and sucked, working his way down until he reached the waistband of your panties.

He hesitated a moment, looking into your eyes. He knew that you were already in a place from which there was no way out. Too much had happened this evening. However, he needed to know, he needed to know if you were sure you didn't regret it.

“Are you sure?” he asked, stroking your belly.

“I am so sure,” you groaned, pushing your hips out to him. You needed him, as soon as possible.

“Have you always been so beautiful?” he muttered to himself, not breaking eye contact with you.

He tugged at the waistband of your lace panties, and the material slid down your legs. Your skin tingled with impatience, and the cool air brushed your heated flesh.

Oscar paused for a moment, admiring the view. He had never seen anything so beautiful. He put his hands on your knees, gently spreading them apart. You felt vulnerable, exposed, but not ashamed. Not in front of him.

He looked at you, absorbing every detail. His touch was gentle as he moved his fingers along your inner thighs, making you shiver. When his fingers reached your center, you gasped, the anticipation was almost too much.

“God, you're so wet” - he moaned, sliding his fingers over your slippery folds.

Your back arched as his finger touched your clit, sending a wave of pleasure through you.

“Mhm” you moaned, squeezing the sheet tightly.

He continued teasing you, sliding his fingers through your folds and rubbing circles around your clit. Your hips moved, and you tried to control yourself, but it was too good, too much.

It didn't take much for you to start shaking under his touch. Oscar instinctively touched you, simultaneously licking and sucking the most sensitive spot on your body. His fingers did not slow down inside you, preparing you for himself. Your body squirmed beneath him, and you let yourself know loudly how well he was treating you.

"Come for me,beautiful" he said, his voice muffled by his actions. His tongue was relentless, and his fingers were curled perfectly inside you. The pleasure was building, coiling tightly in your core, and you were right on the edge. You cried out as your climax hit, crashing through you and sending you spiraling. Oscar groaned, tasting the evidence of your pleasure, and his fingers didn't slow.

"Please, fuck me already" you muttered, pushing your hips more into his face.

You didn't have to beg him for long. Oscar even immediately rose, hovering over you. Your faces were centimeters apart, and in one moment you were already so close that you didn't wait and caught his face in your hands, biting his lower lip as you kissed each other greedily, trying to gain as much as you could from it.

It seemed as if the moment froze when you separated from each other for a moment. Your bodies were centimeters apart, and the space between you pulsed with electricity. Your eyes met his, and the intensity of his dark gaze made you shudder.

Oscar reached involuntarily to the nightstand, where he had condoms. This was not his invention, Lando had pressed them on him earlier, being the number one fan of your relationship.

You felt the warmth of his body, his presence and the scent surrounding you. You reached for him, placing your hand on his chest. His gaze involuntarily softened and he smiled at you, positioning himself between your legs.

“Ready?" - he asked, his voice strained with desire.

You nodded, unable to find the words. A moment later, a loud moan left your lips as Oscar slowly entered you, letting you get used to the feeling. You clung to him, trying to adjust to his size. It had been a while since anyone had been inside you, and despite appearances, Oscar was bigger than most.

“Oh God,” he moaned, burying his face in your neck as he filled you completely. “Is alright?”

“Better than alright” you purred, kissing him on the lips and pushed your hips out to meet him, encouraging him to start moving inside you.

You felt the warmth of his body, his presence and the scent surrounding you. You reached for him, placing your hand on his chest. His gaze involuntarily softened and he smiled at you, positioning himself between your legs.

Oscar slid out and then slowly pushed back in, moaning. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

You groaned, arching your back, and his thrusts became more frantic and his movements less controlled.

“Faster,” you breathed, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him even closer to you.

Oscar nodded, and his lips descended to your neck. He kissed, caressed and nibbled you, leaving marks on your neck that were to be more visible the next day. He sped up, and the pleasure between you grew, coiling tight inside you. Your hips worked together, leading you to your desired fulfillment. His hands were everywhere exploring your body and touching every inch of your exposed skin.

“Oscar, please,” you moaned, unsure of what you were asking.

His movements were erratic and his thrusts deeper, hitting you just right. One of his hands descended to your clit, making you cling to him even more. His thumb did magical things, making you even scream from the caress on his arm, which definitely muffled some of your sounds.

"I'm close," he groaned, his thrusts becoming faster and more desperate.

"Me too," you breathed, feeling the pleasure building and the tight coiling inside you.

With one last thrust, he pushed you over the edge, sending you spiraling into oblivion. His fingers continued to work your clit, his mouth never leaving yours, exploring it with the utmost finesse. His movements were increasingly sloppy as he plunged in and out of you, letting you fill to the brim.

The pleasure was overwhelming, and the feeling of him pulsing inside you sent another wave of ecstasy through you. You writhed beneath him, and Oscar continued to worship you until the orgasm had worn off of you. Your bodies were pressed together, both slick with sweat, and you clung to each other as you came down from your high.

After a moment, Oscar carefully pulled out of you, the loss of his warmth making you shiver. You hadn’t felt this empty in a long time. He got rid of the condom, then returned, pulling the covers over both of you.

He held you close, and you felt safe and secure in his arms. You snuggled against his chest, breathing in his scent and feeling his heartbeat.

“I don’t regret it,” you said, looking up into his dark eyes.

You ran your fingers down his smooth chest, tracing marks between his muscles. He was as hot as you were—and the alcohol still lingered in the air.

“Me neither,” he nodded, stroking your hair. “And I never will. Lando was right."

"With what?" you asked, watching him chuckle.

"With me being stupid and not telling you before that i like you," he mumbled, pulling you closer to him and cradling your head to his chest.

"Everyone knew," you giggled, wrapping your arms around his waist. "You're not as smooth as you sometimes think."

A/N: please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

well, well - first smut about Oscar coming from beneath my fingers. i hope you like it! feedback is always welcome, love you <3

[lost-romantique]

"We aren't a family, sir!"

"We aren't a family, sir! You are the boss! We are the employees!"

"Who's that?"

"Oh, her? That's just Loona. What a nightmare. Serious attitude problems... She'll be out of our hair next month when she ages out. Good riddance, if you ask me. She'll never amount to anything much."

"Fuck, Blitzo! Why can't you stay out of my face for, like, five minutes?!"

"Because, I adopted you! And that should mean something!"

"Oh, what does it matter?! You're not my real dad! I was almost eighteen!"

"It still counts!"

"Well, it shouldn't! I didn't need you then, asshole! I don't, now!"

"I love you, dad."

"Okay, not much of a talker, are you? I'm Blitzo, the "o" is silent. I'm sure we're going to get along just fine. So, what's your deal? What'd you do? Who'd you diddle? You look like someone good with a gun. You look like someone who could shoot up an office-"

"I'm just worried about Millie. She'll be on her way by now, I'm sure!"

"Ugh, she'll be fine, Moxxie. It would take a roided-up hippo to take down that woman when she's upset."

"We've never dealt with the human government before! She's in danger!"

"Do you ever honestly shut up about Millie?! It's always "Oh, how's Millie?" "I can't tonight. I'm hangin' with Millie!" "I'm so worried about Millie!" And she's ALWAYS... FIVE FUCKIN' FEET away from you! It's pathetic!"

"Do you remember what you said to me after my first day with the company?"

"Not really..."

"I remember. You told me I did a good job and that you were proud to work with me. I feel like you wanted to say something more judgmental, but... you said that because I needed it... And it helped."

"Look, I'm hard on you, because I know what you're capable of, Mox. You care too much about what everyone thinks except for... me, because, y'know, my opinion is correct, but just... keep doing a good job. 'Kay? You shoot 'n kill good, you escape things easy... you can be strategic and cold-blooded when you need to, aaaand don't expect any more compliments; I'm maxed out."

"Thank you, sir."

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Someone with an eye for potential. Now you wanna keep working for peanuts, or do you want to shake things up?"

"I'm done. I don't wanna play ghost hunter with you, and I-"

"Uh, it's ghost-fuckers"

"I wasn't done! You know, I always love to have fun with you, and I ain't said boo to you moping around like a sad sack for weeks. But we have bills to pay... So look, you can go be pathetic and play sex ghosts, if that's what you need to do, but I gotta get this job done!"

"Fine! Who needs you anyway!? Bethany Ghost-Fucker works ALONE!"

"We're just Wrathians, Blitz. Muscle. It's all we're good for, all I'm good for. It's why you hired me. Any demon good at making a buck is welcome in Lust or Greed, but here? Demons like us ain't cut out for this."

"Uh... fuck you!"

"What?"

"Millie, I have spent too much of my time, energy, and holes into setting this up for us to entertain your bullshit. I brought you into this company for a reason, okay? You're tougher, smarter, and frankly more capable than anyone I've ever met in any ring..."

"Look. What I said earlier, you've just always been so unbothered by everything. Almost bulletproof and, I guess I never realized how much I depended on that. I didn't know how to react to you being reduced to…Bethany. But I should've respected you like you always do for me. I'm sorry."

"NO! Not them, Your Highness! It was me, it was all me, okay? Y-you can't expect to teach anyone a lesson by killing all of us!"

"You dare try to tell me how to PUNISH!?"

"Look, all that Hell is gonna see is you executing imps who are just trying to do their job! I'm the rogue here, not them!"

"Blitz, what are you doing?"

"Your Highness, please. Blitz just--"

"Moxxie, stop."

"Blitz, I can't let you-"

"This big red bitch never planned on hearing us out... Just... just take care of Loona for me."

"I love you, guys."

"Sir-sir, you're here!"

"Dad!"

"Don't you ever do that to me again, you fucking idiot!"

Moxxie was right, they are most definitely not a family. /sarcasm

[beanarie]

part 3 of buck takes a mental health break. things get kind of epistolary (ish) from here on out.

~

Los Olivos is... nice. Super nice. Buck has driven through a couple of times, but he's never stopped here. He squints at his phone, triple-checking the address, before he rings the bell.

The door opens, and it's like the sun came out. "Buckaroo!" Carla smiles big and wide. "You get in here right now." Her arms wrap around him as unabashedly as they always did. He gleans as much warmth and comfort as he can before she lets go to give him a once over. "Look at Mr. Universe! My goodness, so much more of you to love now. Come in, come in. I hope you're hungry. I've been cooking since late morning, but if you'd shown me a recent photo, I would've started yesterday."

He manages to put away most of the ribs she put in front of him, with her husband Elden polishing off the rest. After ignoring her protests and helping load the dishwasher, he takes in the photos taking up most of the wall space and several surfaces.

She chuckles at the one he stopped in front of. "That's from the wedding of, uh, you-know-who."

"It's a beautiful photo." Elden is wearing a suit a similar shade of blue to the one Buck wore to his and Abby's disastrous first date. If he closes his eyes, he can still hear Bobby's voice in his ear, giving last minute advice as he helped Buck with his tie.

That part of it was a good memory.

"You okay?" Carla asks.

Buck shakes himself, seeing a way out that's sure to be worth it if only to see her reaction. "Uh, hey. Do you remember how Abby had that ex that kind of smashed her heart into little pieces?"

"Oh, yeah. She was hung up to an embarrassing degree. Her mom used to talk about the guy, too. She loved him."

"I forgot about that," Buck says under his breath, suddenly thinking about Tommy hanging out with Abby's elderly mom, being mildly caustic at each other while playing scrabble or doing a puzzle.

"Why would you bring up whatshisn-?"

"Uh, Tommy."

She tilts her head, intrigued. "Good memory."

Later Buck is proud of himself for making sure she's sitting before he gives her the story. As it is she laughs so hard she almost falls off the couch.

"Your life, I swear," she says, wheezing. "I don't know why I'm even surprised."

Buck finds himself grinning along, wider than he has in a long time.

"You know, you lit up a little when you talked about him. You still like this guy?"

"Yeah," he says, only a little doubt in his mind. "I think so."

"He really thought you were in love with Eddie?" She has an incredible gobsmacked face. "Now, I adore that man, and the two of you would be pretty as hell." She winks and Buck snickers. "But he has a talent for making things hard, and you, Evan Buckley. You deserve something easy."

~

(Hen): Hey, Eddie told me what he said. Say the word, and Karen and I will get him ostracized from every parent group in the county.

(Buck): Don't do that.

(Buck): It affects Chris.

(Hen): Good point. We could do gyms. You have no idea how important gays are to that scene.

(Buck): I might not be Gay-gay but I have spent a little time in gyms. I know.

(Hen): Right, that's fair.

(Hen): You seemed like you were managing. I should've noticed you were making yourself smaller.

(Buck): Thanks, Hen.

(Hen): You're missed, just so you know. Not just during shifts. You'll always be one of ours, understand?

(Hen): Buck?

(Hen): Maybe you don't understand. That's on me. I'll do better in the future.

(Buck): I miss you, too. The lady who served me at this truck stop diner had glasses like yours.

(Hen): I hope you gave her a good compliment.

(Buck): Of course I did. And a big tip.

~

Oakland is next, Lucy doesn't have a spare room ("My partner's brother is staying with us for a while. He's a funny little shit. You'll probably be best friends.") but she does have a pullout couch, and when Buck lies at an angle, his feet don't dangle off the edge.

He and Lucy get just this side of absolutely trashed. When they've toasted to Cap's memory multiple times and the stories slow to a trickle, she grabs his phone. "I'm gonna find you a not-nice boy on grindr."

Buck sits back in his chair and gives a have at it gesture. He watches her, always so comfortable in her own skin. "When did you first, y'know, know?"

She doesn't hesitate for a second. "Eleven. Heather Edison. Sixth grade English. She read for Juliet in class and I wanted to be Romeo so bad."

"Who did you get instead?"

She makes a face. "Tybalt. Ugh."

"What's it like growing up knowing pretty much the whole time?"

"Well, I got a couple years on you. It was a lot of sussing people out and very carefully figuring out who was safe to share that part of myself with." She picks up her shoulders breezily. "Sometimes I was wrong. It happens."

"That sounds terrible. I'm sorry."

"Price of admission," she says. "Now, do you wanna stick with the Greek god aesthetic, or do you feel like broadening your horizons a little?"

Sheree, the girlfriend, brings him coffee the morning after.

"Do you miss it?" she asks. "The job? If you're anything like Lucy... She broke her wrist once and the whole time she couldn't be out there it was like she was locked in a glass case full of water."

The job is what killed him, Buck thinks idly. But even now, he recognizes that it's also what kept him going as long as he did. Buck sips at his coffee. "It's only been a few days," he says with a little teasing smile. "Right now it barely counts as time away."

~

(Eddie): Chris said it's my fault you left and then he stopped talking to me again

(Eddie): it's not really is it?

(Buck): I don't know what I'm supposed to say to that. It feels like no matter what I do it's wrong, so I'd rather not engage at all for a while.

His phone rings. Buck rejects the call, then pulls over and drinks half a water bottle.

(Buck): I know this was hard on you, but finding out after the fact was not worse than being there. It wasn't. Bobby's face that night will be with me on my deathbed. Maybe you'll always remember how Chris looked when you told him, but you get a lifetime of new memories to replace it with.

Buck plugs all that in from the notes app, then immediately has a thought.

(Buck): If you ever talk to me like that again I'll transfer for good.

Hands shaking, he turns off alerts from Eddie. Then he texts Chris a photo of himself and Carla at her house. The amount of exclamation points he gets in return chips away at the concrete block around his heart.

~

(Buck): Am I exhausting?

(Buck): Sorry. Hi how are you?

(Tommy): Too late, you already set the tone. Exhausting? You did tire me out on a regular basis

"Oh," Buck says to himself.

(Tommy): in the bedroom. But I'd never say you were exhausting, that's not how I think of you at all. I don't see how anyone could.

(Buck): Oh

(Tommy): Howie told me about your sabbatical. Where are you now?

(Buck): A couple hours outside Salt Lake City.

(Tommy): Exciting stuff. Don't let the mormons get you.

(Buck): Truck driver fell asleep and caused a pileup. That was pretty exciting.

(Tommy): Not for an old pro like you. Did you have to bust out your skills?

(Buck): For a bit. No fatalities, that was good. Mostly just concussions and whiplash.

(Tommy): Look at you, working on your vacation.

It's such a simple exchange, but the concrete block feels even weaker now. He remembers Bobby saying He's good for you, at a time that they later found out was him saying his goodbyes. That taints it, somewhat, but Buck can't get over that Bobby thought he'd be leaving Buck in a good place, with Tommy.

(Buck): Thank you, Tommy

(Tommy): For responding to your texts? It was a real hardship. I'll never get those 90 seconds back.

(Buck): For making me smile. You always do that.

(Tommy): You're pretty good at that yourself. Drive safe, Evan.

[13tinysocks]

My Dead Girlfriend

You find common ground with the Marks- getting a little too comfortable in the process. Across the desert, plans are made.

Past child abuse. NSFW. (Not related, Jesus)

[Invincible Variants X Reader]

[Part one]  [Ao3]  [16]  [18] [Chapter Index]

17 * Rendezvous [10.3k]

"I ain't even saved your number

So no, I can't reply to no text,

I make him cry 'bout the pussy,

Probably why my shit so wet."

Cry Baby - Megan Thee Stallion (ft. DaBaby)

        Gray fought the urge to stand closer to you, instead opting to keep watch of the horizon until the others returned. They did, minutes before Tracksuit asking where he was. Neither of you told them to suck it, because that felt a little on the nose. Tracksuit returned, grumbling something about his stomach. 

        Gray took of before Tracksuit could get his bearings, knowing the way better than Tracksuit after Maskless relayed the directions. Tracksuit bitched and moaned as he took to the sky. Gray ignored him because being near you like a magnet for desire that still roiled in his stomach. Nothing was as boner-killing as Tracksuit rattling on about his bathroom trip as they flew.

        Gray found Mark's body under six feet of sand. The stuff dried to him like horrible glitter glue. His heart was still in hand, fingers clutching so hard it punctured in multiple places. He was stiff and cold, flesh starting to sink in with rot.

        With all the dried bug carcasses, he could smoke all of Mark in hours instead of days like Emperor. He set up a station in what used to be your old home. It'd keep the heat well.

        Tracksuit helped. Mumbling about how fucked up it was the whole time despite his actions, because eventually the bugs would run dry. They needed emergency food. 

        He made Tracksuit swear not to tell you. Though if they ever had to turn to the backup, you'd know right away where it came from. 

        ***

        Omni returned diligently to your side. Listening to your spiked heart rate, watching your reddened face, how your eyes avoided his. He chalked it all up to more crying, you poor thing.  

        He spoke first, watching the fire, trying to see what you saw in your memories.

        "I'm impressed by what you built down there." Your home. Your hamster hut. Your shitty bug furniture. Shared with Mark. You suck in your lips and he knows he's said the wrong thing. You didn't need empty platitudes, you needed connection. The thing you so clearly had with Mark. So apparent in the single, well-worn cot, the lingering smell of soup and sex. "I was young when I first developed my powers." 

        Markus was up to bat. Missed once, twice, then hit the incoming baseball so hard it knocked the pitcher off his feet and broke three of his ribs. It was chalked up to a freak accident but Nolan knew it wasn't. It was everything he had been waiting for, he was so proud. Took Markus and Debbie out to ice cream after insincerely apologizing to the parents of the kid his son just hospitalized. Markus remembers laughing at the ice cream shop, the smile on his dads face. It was one of the last times he ever felt normal. 

        Training began right away. School shoved aside, play dates ignored, his weekends bowling with mom gone for good. Dad didn't go easy on him just because he was a child. In hindsight, his training was harder at the beginning compared to when he got older. Back then, he didn't follow orders as well. He misunderstood things, wasn't strong enough to withstand villains or the beatings that'd come if he failed to take down the bad guy of the week. But he learned overtime, getting hit was better than staying in the room. 

        A few months into his training, he'd fucked up big time. Was too slow and let an elderly couple get smashed by a car some rouge giant mutant threw. Instead of going after the mutant, he lifted the car in a desperate attempt to save the man, who's screams he could hear. Except the weight of the car was keeping the blood inside his crushed body, and when he lifted it with an apology, he bled out in front of Markus's eyes. So fast there was no chance of saving him. Not the first death he'd seen, not even close, but he remembered it for what came after.

        Debbie had introduced Nolan to the idea of a timeout when Markus was a toddler refusing to eat his veggies. Stay quiet, keep your head in the corner, don't move. It was a very human punishment, suitable to his son without powers. Viltrumite children did not misbehave the way Markus did, for fear of a beating, or just the fear of being perceived as weak, to be culled. Nolan knew Markus would never understand that pressure being raised on Earth, so he had to raise the stakes, punishment would have to match his son. So he shoved Markus into the downstairs coat closet, told him to face the wall and not move until he came back. Then he shut the door. Didn't come back for hours. 

        The house had gone quiet. Markus was well-behaved, but this was ridiculous. Dad knew it was an accident. He surely didn't mean for him to be in the closet so long. It was an accident the punishment went so long. Those people were dead forever and that sucked but it wasn't Markus's fault for trying to save them. Honest mistakes happen all the time! When he opened the door, it was night. He saw Dad right away with his eyes adjusted to the dark. Sat still on the couch, a travel booklet open in his lap.

        "I told you to stay." Dad was in front of him in an instant. Chest to Markus's nose. The threat of violence in his stillness. "You want to be like me, don't you?" He nodded though he was scared shitless and really had to pee but didn't know how to say it. "Then you need to learn to truly reflect on your mistakes."

        "Dad-"

        He shut up when Dad's fist balled. He wanted to be like him so, so very badly. He also wanted out of the closet. He also didn't want to get hit again. He decided then to look at it as training, and not as something that made him feel cracked and incomplete, if this was the only way, so be it. Markus shut the door and faced the wall for three days.

        Debbie found him while looking for an old kerchief to wear to an open house. She blindly believed Nolan when he said Mark was staying at William's house for the weekend. Piss reek on all the coats despite being dried in his pants. She tore Nolan a new one the best she could, but he quieted her. He never hit her but he held things over her neck like a guillotine. "Debbie, you need to understand. Viltrumite children are different, stronger, he can take it."

        "Nolan, he's eight."

         "Which is early for powers, yes, but there's no better time to set him on the right path. What I'm doing is a good thing. Markus neeeds to be prepared to do whatever it takes to keep the planet safe." His voice was placating, easy. They'd had this conversation a hundred times and Nolan always won.

        But Debbie still tried, less as time wore on, but still tried nonetheless. "Can't you go a little easier on him?"

        "Do you want Earth to be blown up by a metor if I'm not around to stop it? Or alien invsation or mind control? I can't be everywhere at once."

        "There's other heros to-"

        Nolan held up his hand to quiet her. "They're only human."

        "Only human?" She was insulted. 

         "Yes, Debbie, only human. You'll never understand what it's like for us. What we are. As a Viltrumite, I know better than you. I know whats best for the planet. You know how to sell a house. Who do you think is more fit to raise our boy to be who he wants to be?"  Markus had begged for training all his life. Lay anxiosly awake at night, worring if he'd never get his powers. 

Debbie didn't try much longer, like she should've, she let him steamroll her. All she did for Markus was buy him enough time to change clothes, to go to the bathroom but not clean up. Nolan had him back in the closet while he took his mother to bed where they argued. Markus could hear their rising voices through the walls. Superhearing not developed enough to parse out the words. The yelling gave way to the apparent sounds of sex. There was nothing else to hear, to focus on. 

         It was Dad who got the say when he was let out. While he sat in the dark his fathers face had morphed into a monster in his mind, an unfamiliar hatred that choked out the rest of his senses. He wanted to yell at him, to hit the thing that was keeping him in there. But when Nolan opened the door and put a hand on his shoulder, it was just his father. He was so overwhelmed and so grateful he hugged him. Nolan hugged him back, saying, "I'm sorry I had to do that, son." 

        It happened again. He made less mistakes as he got older but they still happened. Nolan would take him to the closet, sometimes silently sometimes with violence. Markus tried leaving multiple times over the years. Dad would find him immediately or some time later, sometimes goading him back to the closet, sometimes beating him so bad he had no choice but to be carried back. And there he sat. Stewing. Becoming steelier than his father in the dark. Always aspiring to be like Nolan but thinking to himself, if he had a son he'd do different. He'd be better. He'd look better in red and white instead of that silly blue-yellow color scheme Art picked out for him. 

        "I know what isolation can do to someone," Omni said.

        Killing Dad was a lot easier than he'd thought it'd be. He'd placed him on such a high pedestal he didn't notice how thin the supports were. But that wasn't the point. This was about the things you shared, not his love-hate fueled parental double homicide.

        Yet you looked at him like he'd emphasized how he'd beat his father's head in after snapping mom's neck. You looked up at him, a whisper on your lips, "What the fuck?"

        He had expected that reaction. You'd given him a similar one before. Except by the time that happened, you'd been together for years and put things a little less vulgarly. He'd always thought it was strange, how you cried to him about the death of his parents. He told you it was an attack. An old arch nemesis, a flimsy story, really, but you'd believed him because with him, you knew he always knew what was best. He could still remember the horror on your face when you found out what he really was. This time around, he'd be more honest from the get go. The more you understood him, the more he understood you. 

        "Dude, if that's your idea of flirting you suck," Tracksuit said, back to you both lying on the floor trying to sleep.

        It wasn't said exactly, but neither party was willing to leave you with the other. So they stuck around under the tent, waiting for the cool but not overly hot morning to move the tent closer to Tracksuit's and Maskless's expansive concrete estate. 

        Despite what Tracksuit said, you had leaned on Omni's side halfway through the story. Relating to some things and being horrified by the rest. Hating that you felt bad for him, that you could see a kid Markus alone in the dark and feel only horror at the idea. Hating that you needed to feel his body heat, how you couldn't stop yourself from melting into it. Hating that you needed to hear a story of someone else burned in the dark. His story, life, was worse, to the point where you wanted to apologize for making him talk about it, but you don't.

        Instead, you give him want he wants, what a stupid part of you needs, "Thanks... Markus." You can't look at him. Won't. Don't want to see what the name does to him- send a flush of memory to his cheeks and a glint to his eyes. "Even if that was a super fucked up time in your life." You think about telling him about the first time you killed someone. Not first blood for Machine Head, but the real first time. The accident. 

        "Of course, my dove." His arm loosely snakes around your waist, holding your body closer.

        Tracksuit's head whipped around. Pissed at you but nosy. The last time he heard that name you were crying it out. And since when were you on a pet-name basis with that daddy-loving freak? He found Markus's head pressed to your (hair/scalp), not quite kissing you but not not kissing you. Nose twitching as he inhaled your sweaty, desert scent. Ew. He flipped back around.

        You knew what you were doing. Trying to get closer to Markus to fill the Mark shaped hole in your wounded heart. The guilt of it hits you, dizzying and harsh. 

        "Don't call me that." You said though it had made your gut pleasantly twist. To be loved is to be changed and Mark loved you so much in those two weeks despite what he did to you. You hated the way it changed you. Here was Markus, offering up love on a silver platter with no secret side dish of being locked away and going insane. 

        The skip of your heart says you're a liar who likes the name but he placates you, "Would you rather I call you something else?"

        His lips move against your (hair/scalp), his voice low and teasing, sending a pleasant tingle down your spine and straight to your still aching cunt. It'd been hours since you'd sucked Gray dry and you wanted more. When Markus had returned with Maskless, him and Gray took to the sky. You had no idea if he told but guessed not with how surprisingly chill Markus was with his presence. If you told him, you'd ruin things, but you'd get the pleasure of hurting his stupid feelings.

        You make the decision that's not best in the long haul, but for now, "My name is just fine."

        ***

        Gray waited in the sky. Hands behind his back, still slick with sweat. Heart rate slowed, an unusual relaxation in his shoulders that he tried to offset by being extra rigid. Cock still wet with your saliva. Luckily, the wind made his kilt flutter forward a degree, hiding the mild arousal that'd repossessed him. 

        You were down there. Small with distance. Content, with no idea that you'd taken his world view and flipped it around and around. Before he was fighting for a reason to care, unsure of why he was still fighting to survive. But the care you'd shown him, how easily you could unwind him and fill him with such new uncertain feelings was more than enough. One thing was for certain, procreation without actually procreating was much better than he had ever envisioned. He wanted to do it again and again and again. Any and every way you could teach him. He fantasized about things he never gave thought before. Remembered the slivers of your skin he'd seen and shivered. 

        He wasn't just surviving for the Empire now. He was surviving for you and your vicious tongue. For the chance to fill you with love and his... oh. Jesus, that was uncouth. But he couldn't stop thinking about it. If you'd like it. The sounds and faces you'd make. The-

        "You wanted to speak to me?" Markus lifted into the sky behind him. 

        Gray didn't turn. Hard on too apparent even in the wind. "Your mate attempted to convince me to take her to the others while you were gone." He kept his tone mild.

        Markus crossed his arms, "And how did she do that?" 

        He should tell the truth. Lies would cause problems in a situation like this but he felt so much closer to you having a secret. Plus his allyship with Markus was new, he couldn't risk it, not now. Not if it meant losing you. Gray just had to hope you'd also keep your mouth shut.

         "We spoke at length," he said, "She tried to use her powers but she's drained. From what I've observed, it may take until her leg heals for her to be at full potency. We should plan for that." A gnawing, horny part of him said fuck it. Take her along. Kill the others. More blowjobs for him. Blowjobs for a job well done. More food for him. Food for a job well done. Both animal cravings the desert brought out in him.

        "I see," Markus said. 

        Gray had been shot at by alien ray guns. Been cursed, beat, trained by one of Viltrum's elite. He kept himself cool and steady to a T. He felt Markus could see right through him, had to school his heart rate and breathing. He was sure he'd win the fight if it came to that, but there'd be repercussions surrounding you he wasn't ready to face- not after you'd recently grown so affectionate. 

        "Her leg will be healed in about a week." Gray added. 

        Markus nodded to himself. "So we have a week to convince her to not try and kill herself for nothing." Not a lot of time considering how stubborn you'd proved to be. Refusing to die in those caves, taking one of them down despite your affections for him. 

        "I say we have a week to train her until we all go to kill them," Gray said, watching the man over his shoulder. Was the idea too unlike himself? Would Markus know what had transpired?

        Markus was quiet a moment. Gray took it as suspicion until he said, "They could kill us too." Though Markus loathed to admit it. "Kill her to get at us. It's too dangerous." But so were they. They'd spot you eventually. "But I agree. Something must be done about them, sooner rather than later. I don't want her involved."

        Why not? She's an asset. Gray thought, before his dick caught up to him. No post-battle reward if you were dead. It was his turn to say, "I see."

        ***

        The days went by in a molasses blur. The tent was moved beside the concrete runes that was Maskless and Tracksuit's base. Simply so there'd be no quarrel about where you'd be and who with- you were with them, at their shared base, all the time. They kept to their original bases and you floated between them. 

        Skirting the days by in agony as your bone knit itself back together. Turns out humans didn't have speed-healing for a reason- it hurt like a motherfucker. You'd used the last of your codeine to dull the pain, but it barely scratched the surface. So most of the time you just laid down wherever was coolest, and wondered when you were going to join Mark in death.

        The pain wasn't all physical, being nearly bed ridden left you with lots of time to think about him. It shouldn't hurt so bad, him being gone. You hadn't really known him all that long. You lived together for two weeks and the affection had started to turn to a boiling hatred. But you got to live and he didn't. His only crime was not joining the empire, oh and mass homicide on your version of Earth but still- you felt like the shittier person. He killed for you, you killed because some robot asshole told you to.

        You were starfished on Markus's cot, recovered from the cave ruins under the tent shade. Hot, but hydrated enough to sweat. Stripped to the soldier's underthings. Leg no longer splinted, bone mostly healed but still, it hurt to walk.

        "What are thinking about?" Markus. Ever since he told you about himself, you'd started calling him the name like he'd been calling you yours. He liked it. A lot. You hated how much he liked it, but liked that somebody liked something you were doing. You just wanted to feel loved again. Not by him necessarily, but he kept hand feeding you affection like you were some skittish horse.

        Markus had you practice using your powers every day. Never as long or hard as Gray would like but it was compromise to not using power at all. Tracksuit or Maskless were often your unwilling subjects, paid in extra bug meat. You were getting better by the day, stronger as your leg healed.

       Gray was down in the caves doing something. He wouldn't tell you what. Maskless was down there with him, sifting through the ruins of the hatchery. Last you saw Tracksuit he said he was going to nap in his hammock- the map turned cloak he demanded you give back days ago. You did, though you bickered back and forth. Blooming friendship soured by his jabs and you making him literally jab himself. You missed the normalcy he brought, but you were also pissed at him. You were pissed at everything, all the time. So was he. The desert made bitches out of both of you.   

        Back to Markus. You wanted a few things from him. For him to take you to Phantom. For him to help you ease the pain in your leg and your heart. You could get all that and more if he would just, "Come here." You reached up for him, hovering over your bed. In the past few days you'd allowed him to hold you. It left you with a swirling contradictory roster of feelings. 

        He obeyed, coming closer until your arms could snake around his back. Tugging at him. He smiled. Thinking finally, you were returning his affections, molding into the sweet thing he wanted you to be. He'd been fine just holding you while you sat or laid there like a corpse, but he'd been yearning for your reciprocation. 

        For awhile, you let him hold you. You made no sound, didn't doze. Just lay with your eyes open, face pressed to his chest listening to his beating heart. Thinking about Mark. Thinking that if he wasn't so... You closed your eyes. You couldn't start thinking it was Mark's fault. Wouldn't. But if he had just held on, let you dig you both out...

        You couldn't think anymore. You pulled back from Markus's chest, looked into his face. Calm with a slight wrinkle of worry in his brow. "My-"

        You kissed him. Trying to recoup yourself in it, to not feel the overwhelming void. You feel his stubble scratch against your jaw and reach your hand up to trace along it. You feel needy and when he tenses and kisses back you feel wanted, vindicated. You go back and forth, slow and steady wins the race- and gets your motor humming. He welcomed your tongue into his mouth, practically rolled out the red carpet. He was all too happy to help you feel needed, wanted.

        Through the rolling of tongues and sighs, you could still remember Mark, feel the rebar digging into your skin and his arms around your waist. You needed something more. Your hand left his cheek, trailing down his chest until you found a semi on the soft side. 

        He was gone from you all at once. Standing on his knees on the edge of the cot. You followed him, lifting onto your elbows, face flushed and lips buzzing. Whining, "Why'd you stop?"

        You looked so much like her. Chest heaving, eyes wanting, splayed on the bed under him begging for more. He wanted to give it to you but not like this.

        "I don't think you're ready." He knew the only reason you let him cling to you was Mark's death. It stung, but he was grateful. Knew you'd eventually stick around because you liked him for him, not that dead boy. Only when your heart had healed and you were wanting, would he make love to you again.

        "For sex? I think I am." You'd been thinking about how good it'd felt to suck Gray off for days. Gray had been avoiding you but seemed to have told nobody of your rendezvous. You missed how getting eaten out by Mark felt. Fingers stretching out your cunt. You ached for something more. Something thick and mind-erasing, even for a little while. Felt guilty about it, felt not-guilty, then guilty all over again.

        Markus frowned as you sat fully upright. Hands reaching for his waist. He leaned back, "You're still grieving and hurt."

        But you were insistent. Hurting so much in the stillness, the broken leg and your mind eating at you. You needed this. "Gray gave me the okay to walk yesterday. Why don't we set that back a little, yeah?" 

        He shook his head and completely floated out of range. "Don't use my love for you to hurt yourself." You didn't rise to follow. Knew it'd be a fruitless endeavor. 

        You scoffed still, rejection stung. "Sex wouldn't hurt me."

        He rose a brow. Remembering how you enjoyed him manhandling you. Remember how your attitude had started to shift after he fucked you. Sex changes things, though he doesn't bring it up. "I'm sure we'd enjoy it, yes, but I don't want you to regret it afterwards." 

        "I won't." 

        You didn't love him enough yet. You hadn't dropped Mark from your mind.

        "You will." He said. You fixed him with a look but you both knew he's right. "I appreciate the... offer but I think it's best to wait." He moved back toward the edge of the tent. Thinking about fucking you till you begged him to stop. Feeling himself twinge with excitement but his mind was stronger than his body. "I'm going to check on the others. I'll tell you if they've found anything."

        With that, he was gone. Fighting himself to leave you but knowing it'd pay off in the end. You wouldn't see him as some fuck buddy, he was to be your husband. 

        You were alone. Unsatisfied. Needy as hell. Pissed. Needed someone to rant to, a little normalcy. Needed to feel like you were talking to Mark at the very beginning of things. Him and his cocktail sauce jokes.

        You trudged to the other base where the only other person you could talk to was.

        The concrete remains were shaded but sweltering. The hammock ends were stuffed into cracks in the wall like they used to be before Maskless tore them out, unsecured and unsurprising when Tracksuit fell out of it, again. He swore as he got up off the ground, trying to fix the damn thing and take his nap. He was tired of sand, of this fucking place and everything that came with it. He heard the crunch of your boots, another thing he hated about the desert. "Didn't hear the other guys makin' food so wha'dya want?"

        You leaned against the bare window frame watching his back flex as he worked, trying and failing to shove the fabric back where it used to be.

        "That's not going to work." You thought of Mark trying to help make the buggy furniture. His hands were big and clumsy, you ended up making most of it.

        He scoffed. "You come'ere just to tell me that?" He crawled into the freshly hung hammock, which instantly fell. He bristled as he thrashed in the sheet, saw you still watching and hissed catishly, "Fuck off!"

        You left to his relief, only to come back a few minutes later. You walked slowly, mostly leaned to your good leg. You were determined to walk on your own, with no more sad looks from Gray or Markus. "Here." You re-entered the room, holding your rebar crutch. "Use this as a stake." 

        In the time you were gone he tried three more times with zero success. "Oh yeah, cuz I can hang a hammock off one thingy." He snatched the crutch out of your hand anyways. 

        You watched him look around. Considering sticking it in the sand but remembering it wouldn't hold. You suggested, "Stick it in the wall. Tie the other half to that." You point to a rusty spike of metal jutting out of the ceiling. You'd had to be resourceful in the cave, with Mark.

        Tracksuit grumbled but listened. Shoving the rebar into the wall, sending cracks along it, making you worry the wall would crumble and ceiling would come down but the rebar held. He tied one end to it, then the other to the spike you pointed out. He gently, slowly, laid himself down. Tensed for the inevitable fall but it didn't come. "Hm."

        "You're welcome." You said, not your normal biting tone.

        "Didn't say thank you." He bit back.

        "I know." 

        He waited for you to leave but you didn't. "Thought you came over cuz you were all like, annoyed at the sound of me falling n' shit. You jus' gon watch me sleep or something?"

        "No."

        He spun, back facing you. He slipped his mask off his face. Hot as all hell under the fabric. "Then piss off, I'm trying to sleep." 

        "Is it really that hard to not be a dick to me?" You snapped. Deep down you missed that asshole you smoked with. You needed a friend. You couldn't see him now, just another back turned. You can almost imagine Mark in the end- despite the hair.

        "I dunno, is it really that hard to not be a huge bitch when every guy in the desert is slobbering over your pussy?" 

        "Excuse me?" You had power again. You could make him hurt. You wanted to rebuild the bridge you burned but... God, he was such a dick.

        "If I were you, I'd be all for it. Like, you can't do shit but sit around, so why not ease the tension a bit and pass yourself around?" 

        He didn't mean it but he was mad. Missing Rex, missing home. Missing when he didn't have to hear about you and see you every fucking day. You got to eat good in a cave while he starved in the sun, got to cum as much as you wanted with an endless roster of boyfriends but abstained for some fucking reason. 

        He heard your footsteps coming closer but didn't move. He knew you couldn't hurt him but was wary of you controlling him. He hadn’t considered you could untie the hammock from the crutch and let him fall on his ass. It didn't hurt but it did well making him angry. He snarled up at you from the floor, unmasked, feeling naked but he didn't lunge for the cover. Thought it'd make him seem weak in front of you. "Fuck was that for?"

        You knew under the fabric he was Mark, but seeing his face for the first time felt like a hot slap. He was Mark with thicker brows, one of them slit. He was Mark with a more bent nose bridge, a bull ring septum, and a cheek dermal. He was Mark with longer lashes and a scowl that said he hated you. Mark would could grow facial hair, stubbly and spotty as it was. Seeing his face made your gut twist painfully and balloon with butterflies. You had wanted to reply, to tell him he was being a cunt but your throat was dry.

        Tracksuit saw the hesitation in your eyes and went for the kill. He stood fast, forced his face into yours grinning. "Aww, lose ya nerve when you saw this sexy mug?"

        You didn't back down, pointing at the cheek piercing, "You look ridiculous." Though you thought it looked sexy.

        "Tch. Yeah right. You're like- biologically down for all this, sweetheart." The pet name came out as an insult. 

        "I don't fuck losers." You leaned in, challenging him back. 

        "Really?" His breath was hot on your lips, "Could've had me fooled."

        You snarled. "Step off." 

         Even though you were in his place, standing over his fallen hammock. Even though you could make him with your powers but you don't. 

        "You first." He said.

        You'd been down this road before. Knew where it led, but you stood your ground. Waited for it to happen.

        Both of you stared nto each other’s eyes, yours so pretty, his light and amber. Anger electric between you. You don't remember who looked at whose lips first. Just that someone did and lips and teeth collided shortly after. You had him by the collar, pulling him violently close. He gripped you hard by the waist. Tongues already in each other's mouths. Growling like animals. Biting but never hard enough to bleed.

        As the kiss moved, so did your bodies. He pushed your back rough into the concrete wall, pressing himself fully into you. Warming your already overheated body. Pressing his quickly growing arousal to your thigh. You moaned into his mouth, heat pooling between your legs. 

        He sensed it. Moved his hands from your waist to your hips, forcing your legs up, making your thighs hook around his hips. The sound you made when his clothed arousal pressed to yours, a harsh gasp, only made him harder. He snickered against your lip, grinding into your core. "You fuckin' like that?"

        This was a terrible idea on both your parts but neither of you stopped. Tracksuit needed a proper release after starving in the desert and You needed a distraction from the grief. Both of you got something out of this. 

        "Hate it." You said against his lips, slick with your spit before you kissed him again. Body moving with his, dry humping each other like dogs against the wall.

        He's touchy. Hands slipping under your shirt to paw at your tits. Kneading them harsh in his hands. Savoring how it made you gasp into his mouth. "Not such a bitch now, huh?"

        He was Mark, but sounded nothing like Mark when he talked. It was the accent, the cocky attitude. Part of you wanted to pretend it was Mark making you feel good. Another part wants you to remember its Tracksuit. Mark was dead, couldn’t make you feel good anymore, move on.

        You can't make up your mind so you tell him to, "Shut the fuck up."

         You escape his lips and go for his throat. Not bothering to kiss down the column of skin, going right to sucking and biting. His hips cant against yours, pressing delicious friction to your core. 

        "Yeah," He gasps, "Yeah, just like that."

        "What did I just say?" You bite him again. This time he doesn't comment, only groaning as he grinds into you.

        He doesn't expect it when you say, "Get off of me."

        He listened, not because you used your powers. but because his mind came back to him. Thinking, 'oh shit, I'm so dead, the others came back and heard and I'm sooo fucked.' He listened, looked out the broken windows and saw no one. 

        "Blue ballin' me, seriously?" He tried to sound pissed but he only sounded desperate. He only stepped back a few feet. He was faster than you. Could so easily pin your back to the wall and fuck you into it. He doesn't because he's not Scars. You're a person to him, despite much of an asshole as you were.

        You gave him an annoyed look. "I can't take my pants off like that." 

        Oh. Oh!

         He shifted on his feet, ready to tear your pants off rather than wait for you to pull them down. His head (not the lower one) stirred. "Wait a sec. Are you trying to get me killed right now?"

        You didn’t stop undoing your pants buttons. "They're all out right now. We've got time."

        His mind went blank when you started wiggling your hips to get out of the pants. God Damn. His head stirred, that one this time. "They catch us, I'm dead."

        "You're dead once we run out of food anyway." Or until you accidentally made him kill himself, you thought bitterly. You knelt down and tugged off your boots, stepped out of your pants. Casual, easy, like sex used to be. You hated that you felt the need to say, "Are we doing this or what?" When everything was so easily passed between you and Mark. You hooked your thumbs in the solider shorts, waiting for his reply. Looking dangerously hot. He prayed to a God he didn't believe in that your pussy would be to die for.

        Tracksuit had you back against the wall, helping you tug down the shorts. Naked from the waist down, though your rumpled-up tank top didn't cover much. He'd undone his suit, pulled the zipper at his neck all the way down to his crotch. Exposing a sweaty, toned chest and a cock in dire need of attention. He hated that Art made him a onesie but it was easy to get in and out of.

        "Fuck." You moaned just looking at him. Still mostly clothed but Jesus. 

        "Like what you see?" He squeezed your ass as you rehooked your legs around his waist. 

        "Shut up." You tugged at his hair and he moans, leans in to mindlessly shove his tongue down your throat. You welcome it. Leaving him to blindly fumble with his dick, sliding the pink aching tip up and down your folds. Coating himself and relishing your shudder. 

        He pushed in slow. Eyes rolling back into his head as your welcoming cunt stretched around him. So wet and ready for him. It'd been such a long time since he fucked. A millennia by his standards with his revolving door of booty calls. Sliding inside you felt like coming home.

        You knew he'd be big, him and Gray were the same person after all, but he just kept going and going. Filling you inch after thick inch. Pushing your body to its limit by the time his pelvis met yours. For a moment, you were both still. Your body adjusting to the fullness. So much bigger than fingers. 

        "You good?" He panted into your lips. You growled and canted your hips. That was answer enough. 

        Squeezing your ass, he rolled his hips back, dragging his dick slowly out before he pushed forward. Testing the feel of you. All of you felt like it was squeezing him, trying to keep him inside, close. You moaned as he pulled out again only to shove back inside, faster this time. He'd done enough fucking to know the signs that someone liked it fast, liked it hard. He wasted no time in setting a pace that made your skin clap together. 

        Filling you all the way before leaving you empty then forcing your cunt to reopen, to take all of him in one long drag. Over and over. His pelvis slapped harshly against your swollen clit. Your moans echoing off the concrete walls only spurred him on. So different from the way Mark worshiped your pussy. Mark was all about giving, even when you were pleasuring him, he wanted to be good for you. Here you were, a week after his death, being fucked near to tears by another man (kind of). Tracksuit took, greedy and unforgiving. God, you were awful and God Tracksuit's dick felt so good. Why was Mark so scared of giving you his?

        "You know," Tracksuit pulled you from your half-dazed thoughts, "you're a lot nicer with a dick you." He watched your face, flushed, fucked-out by a few strokes. He wasn't surprised, he was good at a short list of things: Killing, fighting, and fucking.

        Only then you realized how desperate and slutty you must look. You schooled your features but he'd seen it, was grinning mischievously at you though his eyes were clouded with want. Dick snapping into you. 

        "You're a lot less annoying when you shut up." You could've cum by now if he just kept quiet. Stopped pulling you out of your thoughts that only made you start to spiral. Pleasure mixing thick with self hate and regret.

        "You say that a lot." He chuckled.

        "Because you talk a lot." You yanked him forward by his tousled hair. You sucked on his neck and finally, instead of yapping, he moans. Gripping you harder, hips starting to stutter, thrusts less calculated, balls deep practically grinding his cockhead against your cervix.

       “You want me to pull out or can I cum in you like a slut too?” He probably shouldn't have added that last part. You'd probably push him off, hate him for saying it but you don't. 

        The idea makes you clench around him, throb with want. Finally forget. You try and fail to keep your voice steady, maoning, "Don’t you dare pull out.”  

        "Fuck- nnnngg- fuck I'm-" A jackal's bark escapes his throat as he cums. Filling you more than you already had been. Hot and claiming. His head lulls as his dick went sof, heart hammering. "Holy shit." He pulled out of you. The plug gone, his cum starts to ooze out. "Fuck I did not think you’d let me cum in you, that’s crazy." He mused over the view a moment. 

        You leaned back against the wall. Dejected. Feeling like a slut cheating on Mark who was fucking dead. Feeling like if you didn't cum this would all be for nothing. You don't care about showing him, just lift your tank top and let him see the scar. "Doesn't mean much, remember?"

        He felt like an asshole. "Uh. Yeah." His hands leave your ass, now lightly bruised in the shape of his hands. Usually people were panting when he was done with them. You just looked kinda sad, but that wasn't his problem. You were the pampered princess, he was just some guy, not some princeling who promised to save you from a castle. He unnotched your legs from his waist, left you shivering and wanting as he grabbed his zipper and starting pulling it up. "Thanks for that."

        Your feet hit the sand and you are fucking pissed. "I'm not done." You prowled forward, needing to finish what you started. Pussy throbbing. Having a taste of him but not enough to bring you to orgasm. You kept thinking about Mark every time you got close- bit of a mood killer. 

        He jutted his hips forward, softened dick uselessly flopping between his legs. "Can't really fuck you like this."

        Mark would've never left you wanting. Even if he'd come he'd take care of you, double whatever you gave him, triple it. "You selfish asshole." 

        Tracksuit shrugged with an unwarranted smirk, like you’d just called him handsome. "I get that a lot."

        You narrowed your eyes at him and his toned body and good dick and hair sweatily stuck to his forehead. You wanted him all over again but he'd need time to recover. "Lie down."

        "What?"

        Your eye twitched. "Look, we're probably going to die. Let's just get this out of our systems." That got him on his back, hands folded behind his neck like a pillow. Dick still soft but soon to wake. 

        "So what'cha gon do until then?" Tracksuit watched you, amused as you crawled on top of him. Cum rolling in streaky tears down your inner thighs. 

        Your pussy touched down on his muscled thigh. Rough fabric providing the perfect amount of friction. You don't reply, hands coming down on his hard chest as your hips started to rock, sliding yourself up and down his leg like a dog. He watched, mesmerized by the way you moved. Needing his dick to resurrect so you’d do that rolling motion on him. 

         "You gonna help at all?" You snarled at him, still and lazy, hands still tucked behind his head.

        "Don't wanna ruin the view." He said, happy to watch as your eyes flutter from grinding on his legs. Most girls would be too embarrassed to do something this desperate. God, you really were a slut. He appreciated that. Loved a good slut. Didn’t consider why you might be desperate or what it meant. 

        "Dickhead."

        "Speaking of," he palmed his regrowing erection. Still slick with your fluids. You were poised to sit down on him before he was fully hard. He didn't mind. 

        You were full once again. Getting fuller by the second as he grew harder inside of you. Again, you rolled your hips on him. Feeling his cock push into your walls, grind against all those sweet spots that made your eyes roll back. Your shin shot little spikes of pain up your back but you didn't care. Leaned forward, gripping him by the shoulders as you chased release.

        Hands came to your hips, guiding you along with a guttural, "Fuck yeah, baby."

        It was your turn to set the pace and you did. Bringing yourself up and down as fast as you could. Trying to out run the grief. Feeling Tracksuit's thickness punch up inside of you. Thinking about doing this with, "Mark."

        Tracksuit's closed eyes open. Watching you. Knowing who you were pretending he was. Fine by him. He was using you to cum too. But, he was still mildly insulted, he wouldn't give you what you wanted, only himself. He gripped your hips hard, started fucking back up into you, making your tits bounce, setting the pace. You tried to keep up but you were only human. Just a hole for him to fuck.

        You were about to cum. You could feel that sweet tension building inside of you, ready to snap when he flips you on your back. Climax slips through your fingers as his dick shifts, hitting a different spot entirely.

        "Are you fucking serious?" You snapped.

        "Yes ma'am." He didn't hide the way he was watching your tits bounce through the tank top. Didn't hide his purposeful denial.

        "You are-"

        "A selfish asshole? Yeah, think I just heard that."

         You snarl but get lost in him again. It's endearing. He liked your attention on him, though he doesn't know why. He'd had plenty of casual flings he didn't care about, but none of them got a round two. Maybe the desert was really starting to get to him. Maybe he had a crush. Whatever- you were fucking him and he was going to make sure you knew it.

        He grabbed you by the plush of your hips and rammed in deep. Cock filling you all at once. He savored the way your eyes shot back. Mouth fell open. He opened his mouth to taunt as your spasming hand reached up, and covered his lips. He smiled into your palm. 

        You bounced off each other. Shifting sand under your bodies. He filled you deeply, completely, fast, so fast. Holding your hips at an angle so his cockhead punched into your g-spot every time. You felt orgasm finally coming like freight train. Your mind went blank.

        "Oh shit!" Your pussy convulsed around him. Squeezed so hard he felt like you'd snap his dick clean off. Jerked him off with your muscles and twitches so good that he came again. The hardest he'd ever cum. Vision going blurry and mind going fuzzy. Maybe there was a reason the others wanted you so bad.

        Cum leaked out your hole from around his softening length. Every inch of you full and warm and claimed again like it'd been with Mark who could've fucked you like this had he not been so scared. 

        For a few blissful seconds, you were a blank slate before it all came crashing back. Mark was dead and you just fucked somebody else a week after he died. 

        Tracksuit pulled out and flopped into the sand beside you. Heaving, red faced.

         "Holy fuck." He said. It was good before but feeling the way you came? "I think I just saw God." One thing was for sure, your pussy was not mediocre. Most people couldn't get him to cum once, let alone twice.

        Your breath hitched. He turned to watch you laugh exept you weren’t laughing. You were crying.

        ***

        Markus wasn't gone for more than ten minutes. Just long enough to check on Gray and Maskless's progress with the jerky. A collective secret shared. Talking of dead man's meat cools his body and mind. They head back in a group, flying low and slow, idly searching the desert as they went. Finding nothing. 

        He heard it before he landed. Heard the same sound fall from your lips all those weeks ago in the dark cave after you fell. Ricocheting off the walls of the concrete ruins, so loud it made his ears twitch. Markus was a reasonable man. He knew you were bound to be attracted to the others, would be downright concerned if you weren't. But still, it hurt, hearing you fuck another version of himself. The one who didn't even care about you- that hurt. How could you be so stupid? 

        His gloves groaned as he approached the building. He was going to rip that rat off you and give you the talking-to of a lifetime. A hand fell on his shoulder, Gray. Who was fighting jealousy in his own right but approached the situation a little more clinically. "Humans get frustrated when they can not finish what they set out to do."

        Maskless ran his hand over his face and retreated to the tent, where he laid himself down. Hands over ears to drown the sounds out. No prude but pretty fucking annoyed. Forcing himself to think about William and now how much he hated the lot of you.

        Markus waited, getting angrier by the second, every grunt and moan that came out of that building like a punch. He was livid, but willing to wait until you were decent. He'd waited and suffered long enough what were a few more minutes? But once he heard your soft cries, that plan went out the window.

        ***

        "I'm bored! This is boring!" Lensless whined, head thrown back. Phantom didn't react to him poking at his wounds anymore. Whenever Phantom was conscious, he didn't react to much at all. "We should just kill 'im. Jerky-fy him the way that guy did."

        "He knows where she is." Scars scratched at his beard. Somehow he grew one while all Lensless got was spotty stubble. 

        Lensless hummed, thinking while he shoved a thumb under Phantom's dirty bandages. Feeling around in the hot meat, stomach grumbling. Phantom breathed but didn’t stir. 

       "He's not gonna tell us, even if he could." Lensless pulled his thumb out and popped it into his mouth, savoring the rich flavor. He sucked his finger clean before shoving it back in. "She's probably dead anyway." He smiled, but wasn't happy. You barely used your powers on him. Barely pushed him around. He hardly got to see you cry and break down. That was no fun at all.

        Scars quietly considered this. Hating that Lensless of all people was right. "We'll kill the next one slower." 

        Lensless grinned. "Any idea who?"

        "Whoever we find. We'll keep him alive till we've got a replacement."

        "Sounds good to me!"

        Mohawk slunk away from the wall he hid behind.

        ***

        "Aw shit," Tracksuit rolled onto his side, trying to joke. "Was it really that good?" 

        You wiped at your eyes with your thumb but the tears kept coming, hating that this was what you'd been reduced to. A grieving slut with a gaping pussy.

         "I miss Mark." You'd never said it, even before the desert. Before you would have lashed out at the suggestion it but you'd been beaten down by the sun and withered by grief. You were a shell of who you used to be. Longing to be that person again but you couldn't be, not out here. A sob ripped from your throat.

        Tracksuit didn't reach out. Didn't know if he should or not. His casual flings cried sometimes, but he usually had the option to just fly away before they got sappy on him. He couldn't really leave because this was technically his house, his camp. Plus, he kind of, sort of liked you a little more now after you made him cum twice. Enough to think he should be a little less of a douche to you. You had been trapped for two weeks, had just lost you kind of boyfriend. He wracked his brain for something nice to say. "You like... are like... really-" He'd always been bad at being earnest. "-Not a bitch at all, I was just kinda mad earlier." That was a start.

        "Is that seriously how you talk to women?" The voice made you both bolt upright. Sand stuck to the sweaty backs of your clothes.

        Markus's frame eclipsed the doorway, casting a cool shadow over you. Mask on to protect his face from the UV, to protect you from seeing the betrayal in his eyes. 

        "Shit, dude." Tracksuit yanked up his zipper. "Don't kill me but also learn to knock? Seriously, don't kill me."

        "If I wanted you dead, you would be." Markus deadpanned. "I've been waiting for you two to finish."

        You moved for your pants. Markus was a red-white flash. Suddenly, you were sat down, pants on, wiped dry (much as he could) between the legs by a rag Markus threw into the wastes. You stared up at him, heart beating erratically, even your tank top was fixed back in place.

         "I don't want you to look as indecent as you must feel." He said as his attention turned to Tracksuit, who was in fighting stance, ready to be attacked. But Markus didn't lunge. "That was a stupid idea."

        "Yeah, cuz you're gonna kill me." Tracksuit tried smiling but it didn't reach his eyes- so close in hue to Markus's, to mom's. 

        Markus ignored him and his tense muscles. "(Y/n) is under deep emotional duress. She is in no state for intimate relations."

        "Intimate relations?" Tracksuit scoffed. "You mean fuckin'?"

        "Obviously."

        The more time Tracksuit went by without his head being mashed into a pulp, the more he relaxed, but never completely. Markus could pull a Maskless any second. "If you haven't noticed, we're all stuck in a fuckin' desert bro, we're all under 'deep emotional durress', so yeah, I'm gonna need to relax a little."

        Markus wanted to snap his neck. For fucking you, sure, but his voice, his manner. So childish, so unrefined. What he could've been had father not been so cruel in molding him into the perfect hero.

        "A few months in the desert is nothing." He said, "As Viltrumites we can survive much longer without food or water. You would know had you ever had any hardship." Days in the closet. No food. No water. No light. Just him, the darkness, and the coats pressing in.

        "Bitch, I moved outta my parents place and roughed it for years. Oh and-" He pointed to his face, exposed to Markus for the first time. His nose bridge was permanently knocked to the right. "I didn't have it easy with daddy-dearest like you did. He'd beat the shit out of me, no fuckin' time out. Like, matching costumes, man, for real? How often do you two go on daddy-daughter dates, huh?"

        Markus's jaw ticked at the way you watched them both. Catching a flash of concern for Tracksuit at his jab. He couldn't kill the fucker, you cared about him now, clung to him like you had Mark. It'd only set back your relationship. 

        "I suggest you be quiet, Mark." The name came out low, a warning from Markus's lips that made Tracksuit almost flinch. 

        "You sound just like him." Tracksuit half-laughed. "That's fucking crazy, dude. Like, actually insane."

        "I won't warn you again, Mark."

        "Okay, first of all, I never went by that stupid ass name," Tracksuit said. Dad picked it. He hated dad. Hated mom too but a little less, "Went by Seb. You know, like, Sebastian." 

        "I'm aware of our middle name."

        "Cool. Well, if you're gonna 'dad' me, at least get the name right. Or don't maybe. Seriously, you're freaky as fuck, dude. Quit it with the dad voice and the dad outfit and the dad lecture-" Tracksuit threw his hands up then down. "Whatever. It's weird! You're weird!"

        Markus's lips twitched stiffly down. He even frowned like dad. "Father must've only lectured you if you're like this."

        "Uh, my broken nose, hello?"

        "That's nothing." Markus took a proper step into the room. Sand dusting up around his boot. "Do you want to see what my Father would do to me for acting like this?"

        You're up on your feet. Legs and back aching. Embarrassed, vindicated, but having seen enough macho bullshit.

        "I came onto him." You admitted fast. 

        Markus's eyes slide to you under the dark glass. "I could tell. I thought you were better than this. I told you to wait until you felt better." 

        It hurt. Almost felt like your actual parent was disappointed in you. You lashed out, "I thought you hated your dad for what he did to you. Why the fuck are you acting like him now?"

        There were still tears in your eyes, but Markus didn't miss a beat. "I hated him, but you both are acting like children."

        Another shadow crossed into the room. Gray hovered in through a busted window, wearing an expression that gave nothing away.

        Tracksuit threw up his hands, "Uh-oh! Mommy's here to yell at us too!"

        You snickered at that because it felt good to be a bitch. To feel like you and Tracksuit were on the same page, friends again at last. 

        "We have a guest." Gray said.

        ***

        Mohawk remembered vaguely where Maskless and Tracksuit held up. He wanted to warn them because they were alright. He liked them better than those pretentious dickheads because they didn't slobber over you. He didn't truly care for Maskless and Tracksuit, he just wanted help taking Lensless and Scars down. It was only a matter of time till they went after someone else then someone else, picking them off one by one. If Mohawk wanted to live, he needed to buddy up. Kill them and eat them. Not the other way around.

        Seeing that tent outside the concrete ruin surprised him but to hell with the dislike, he thought. The more the merrier. 

        Gray intercepted his landing in the sky, asking why he was there. Mohawk explained in a frazzled frenzy. Mohawk had some of his head on but it wasn't screwed tight. That's what drinking blood and eating raw flesh did to a guy after two weeks. He could only imagine how batshit Lensless and Scars were since they really, really liked the taste where Mohawk... could only admire it a tad. 

        Gray wanted to talk longer in the sky. Steer Mohawk toward the tent so he could fetch the others, conveniently leaving you in the ruins with orders to stay put. Gray didn't trust him a bit. If anybody was going to snap next, it'd be Mohawk. Perhaps once the job was done, he could be eliminated.

        Despite everything, Mohawk was quicker with him. Fueled by desperation and annoyance at the idea of waiting a second longer to launch an attack. He touched down. Gray only had seconds to warn the others and hope they had the sense to hide you.

[cherrymakun]

yippie!!!

anyway I would love to just give sanji affection :3 maybe like he's feeling a bit touch starved and reader just goes over to him to kiss and hug him

(you can add other characters if you wanna!)

I'm already kicking my feet and giggling

-🪷

I loved your idea!! I hope it was what you're waiting for, even if it got a little longer than I expected lol. Writing for Sanji is so fun. I hope you enjoy~~ <3 <3

Touch starved Sanji 

☆ Characters: Sanji

☆ GN!Reader

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊₊‧

Sanji always have been such a needy starved boy when it comes to you.

The man is always trying to get your attention in any way he could. He absolutely loves spending his time with you, more than with anyone else. You can’t remember how it started, but you notice that even for trivial everyday occasions, like doing the dishes or sharing a cup of tea, Sanji always finds his way to you.

But he has as a rule to never touch you first. He doesn't want to make you uncomfortable.

But you, oblivious of this, and with all his affection directed to you, you have no choice but to delightfully accept your destiny.

By now, anyone with eyes could see that you two get along a little too well. You love spending time with the blond boy, just as much as he seems to do with you. Although you cannot exactly pinpoint when it started, it seems to be going just fine. For every small act of affection you offer him, tons of his love awaits back to you.

With time, you got used to it. Even if you've never noticed this norm of him, everything was just fine by you. For you, everything is as normal as the sun.

But today, something feels.. off. 

It was early morning when you first noticed your favorite boy was acting weird. Typically you eat breakfast alone, since Sanji is too busy preparing the food for the ones who haven't woken up yet. But this morning when you arrived he had already finished everything earlier, just waiting for you to come.

Once you take a seat, Sanji takes no time to sit next to you. When asked why, he just said he wants more time with you than usual, while taking a place almost clued to you. You wouldn't complain, of course, but he never has done something like this before. 

As the day went on, you noticed that Sanji was getting closer and closer to you, to the point of your hair smelling like smoke due to his cigarette. Even so, he is still not touching you. Sometimes, you could swear he wanted to say or do something to you, but he never finished the action. It 's getting weird.

When evening came, Sanji had spent the entire day with you. 

“Sanji,” you’re at the aquarium room with the blond boy, who is sitting next -but not too much- to you “Is everything ok?”

“Of course it was, my love. Why wouldn't it be?” There’s nothing strange in his voice, but still...

“I dunno, you’ve acting weird today. You stayed by my side every minute. More than usual, I mean”

A mischievous smile took place on his face.

“ I just wanna be with you, mon amour. There is no better company I could reach for.”

You looked down and realized he had placed his hand millimeters away from yours, to the point where your fingers were almost touching… Almost.

No touching, you realize.

You finally got it.

“Sanji,” His attention is all yours now “Why you never touch me?” 

He got so disconcerted he dropped his cigarette on the floor.

“P-pardon?” 

“ Not in that way!” Your cheeks get red “What I'm saying is.. You're always saying the sweetest things to me, and always doing things you know I appreciate. It's almost like you enjoy making me blush” You got a little embarrassed “But you never dare touch me, never. Even when it seems you want to… Why?”

You messed with the young boy's head. 

He felt his heart skip a beat and his hands began to shake. You're supposed to never realize that. His plan was to leave things as they were, so he would never deal with how he really felt around you. So he could never be rejected by you.

Sanji had to gather all the courage in his being to say:

“We don't touch the masterpieces, mon cher. Even if we want more than anything.”

The French accent took over your ears like music, and messed with your soul like a dance. You can’t take this anymore.

This time you were the one who approached him. You cupped his face with your hand while lovingly caressing his cheeks.You look at him with tenderness, as you can feel the boy melting on your touch.

“I’m touching one right now” 

“Mon amour…” He gently took your hand and brought it towards his mouth, leaving a small kiss. He looked at you with eyes filled with a fever you’d never seen before. “Can I ask you a favor?”

“Anything”

“May you let me… hug you?”

It would be a sin to deny this.

Sanji embraces you like a starved man, so tight you can barely breath. He puts your head on his shoulder, and you feel his warmth emanating. Suddenly, the outside world seems to disappear. All that comes to your mind is how needy of you the blonde was, and how much time he must hide it.

“I've dreamt to do this for an eternity” Sanji whispered in your ear. “I can't let you go, I don't want to”

“But is your turn now” You gently pulled away from him, which made Sanji miss the closeness instantly “Come here, let me repay the love you’ve gimme me”

You didn’t have to ask twice. Sanji fell into your arms like it was his place on earth. You spread kisses on the top of his head, while laying it on your lap. When lying down, you gently stroke Sanji's hair, like you’re playing with it. The pretty boy seems like he's enjoying every second of this.

“If I died now I would die as a happy man” 

You laughed a little at his sentence.

“Next time just ask me, silly. I would never say no to you”

You could feel Sanji writhe with happiness on your lap. A smile 

Secretly, you couldn't wait for him to ask again. A little smile show up on your face. Secretly, you couldn't wait for him to ask again.

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hehehe such a needy boy remembering that requests are still open! 💜💙🩵