#long time no see! hope you're all doing good :)

[madamechrissy]

Baby You're No Good

Pairings - Cult leader/clan Leader Geto x F! reader

Summary - You have been promised to marry the psychotic, human hating leader of the Geto Clan, Suguru. Your heart sinks at the wedding when you realize you're likely to be ended once you've fulfilled your duty, giving him an heir. He detests you on sight, as do you, but something happens the first time you lay together, Suguru swears you're some witch, because he can't get enough of you. He becomes consumed with fucking you, with the excuse of 'having an heir' but you begin to wonder just where the lines are blurring. Would you survive this- and will Suguru survive being with you?

CW- Arranged marriage trope, ENEMIES TO LOVERS, psychotic Geto lol- lots of hate sex, Suguru calling you a stupid monkey, angsty in places, FULL of smut. Reader is a virgin bc she's sheltered due to been promised to him. Reader is FEISTY asf and mean right back. Explicit sex and Geto being whipped/insane/obsessed and an ass. This part- fingering, fucking, loss of virginity, masturbation (suguru) finger sucking, hate sex, light angst. WC this part- 6.4k

Based on Clan Leader Geto- will be three parts <3 Plz share/comment/like if you enjoy!! Suguru is unappreciated I wanna give this psycho Princess a good fic!

Songs for this part-  Geto Suguru - Fill the Void - I hate everything about you

Part One

You were to marry Suguru Geto, curse user, rumored cult leader, and clan leader to the major four clans there were. The Kamos, The Zenin, The Gojos and The Getos, the main four clans that you all know there are. As for Suguru’s family, it turns out he is now the clan leader for them, he is the one that they are now riding the whole line of the Geto Clan on.

Marrying you.

You stand there nervously, tummy feeling sick in your pretty white robes as you stare at this psychotic man, this man that thinks people without power are lesser, and perhaps worthless. Perhaps he wishes to eradicate you all, yet for his duty to the Geto clan, it leaves him to have to be with you, the chosen one from your family, for as long as you two were alive.

Maybe Suguru Geto back then was tolerable, back when he was just a clan leader and not all the rumors that are held, but now!? Being his bride was not just terrifying, it was a literal death sentence. After you’d given him heirs you were absolutely sure he’d eradicate you and perhaps anyone you’ve ever known and loved, including your family, who’d just given you the saddest of looks.

They weren’t here, you supposed even they couldn’t live with just handing their only daughter off to him, maybe before, you’d have been excited, remembering meeting him when you were just a teenager, he was a little older than you. Handsome and sweet with this smile that made you want to pinch his cheeks, he was so courteous and sweet, but that was a different man.

You look now, as you nervously step down the aisle, eyes of everyone on you aside from him, Suguru Geto. He’s decked out in brilliant emerald robes, laughing and murmuring to several girls near him. His long black hair is half up, showcasing his handsome features, yes if perhaps he wasn’t a psycho killer, you could find him attractive, not be sick to your stomach.

As some long red headed lady taps his shoulder, her long nails against him, he finally sees you then, and his jaw locks, you feel those violet eyes on you like a physical touch. You doubt he remembers your one meeting years ago, you doubt he recognizes you or cares, or sees you as anything but a nuisance, a duty. But you see his narrowed eyes dip down your body, taking you in.

Your heart hammers as you get closer, a mix of sorcerers scowling or smirking at you, along with the Geto clan looking curiously, murmuring here and there. Everyone hoped to stay on Suguru Geto’s good side, if he had one, you weren’t quite sure, feeling the insane energy emanating from him as he studies you. Another step, another click of your heel echoing in the immaculate hall.

It’s hard to be impressed with the beauty of it, of the Geto estate, surely it’s one of the nicest there are, there are four major families, and the Geto family is one. You don’t know how you ended up being selected, your family is certainly wealthy, but you wonder at your horrific luck now as you stand before him.

You have to lean your head back just to look at the tall man, towering over everyone in the room, he makes you feel so small, even smaller with his quiet assessment, as the room is full of hushed whispers. Half of them surely want you to just die, half of them want an heir from you, you imagine this man in front of you leaning down wants both.

Suguru eyes you carefully, yes you’re beautiful, but you clearly have not an ounce of power, not an ounce of any useful energy. You’re clearly just some pathetic little mortal, which disgusts him, you’re tiny and pathetic, useless. He’s so annoyed this is what he has to do, but he certainly can’t just not fulfill these obligations, as Suguru needs the backing of his family to gain more power.

Already so powerful, and with an enormous, loyal following, he detests that he has to in any way deal with his parents still, but he supposes he will handle it for now. Surely soon he’d have the precious few mortals he allows to live, to be loyal servants at his beck and call, pathetic ants that work for their lives he allows them.

Your eyes lower nervously, lashes casting shadows on your cheeks, lights of the soft chandelier hanging above you glittering on your smooth skin. He feels it, you’re terrified, which makes him smirk just a bit, as you should know your place, under him, beneath him, perhaps he can handle you if you’ll be just a little docile. You are pleasing enough to look at.

Something familiar stirs when you look back at him, with eyes glimmering with unshed tears, your lower lip caught in your row of upper teeth. He remembers it like a fog, being at Jujutsu high with his best friends, right before he started to realize how horrible humans were, God he’d been so naive then. Your families introduced you two, but you were young.

He remembers thinking you were pretty, being just a little shy actually, which is so laughable now. You’d met Satoru then too, and he could swear you’d made eyes on him, on his old best friend who now is his enemy, which hurts Suguru in many, many ways, as having Satoru back on the right side, his side. There was no denying Satoru was the strongest, but Suguru was coming for him.

He smiles a bit as he thinks of it, and his pretty face looks terrifying for a moment, making your breath catch, as the priest begins the ceremony, and Suguru rips his eyes from you. You eye black gauged earrings, alone with some little barbell in his eyebrow, details that almost make him seem like a human, but you suppose those are just from long ago.

Suguru feels Manami’s long nails against his back, he turns and smirks at her, ignoring the pretty, but pathetic human in front of him. Manami and him have long hooked up together, though Suguru partakes in many women, she seems to be the main one by his side. Just this morning she’d sucked him off, he had not been in any sort of mood however to do more.

Knowing he’d have to fulfill his stupid duties were irritating him to know end, and no amount of sucking was fixing his shitty mood. He also sees the girls he truly sees as his real daughters, Mimiko and Nanako whispering about the bride just a bit. He errantly thinks he hears ‘pretty’ but he remembers how young they are, and what he keeps them a bit sheltered from still.

They didn’t know all of his plans yet, they were just girls still.

“You may kiss the bride.” Suguru hears errantly, he sighs, leaning down and pressing his lips against yours, hopefully the only time he’ll have to, but something literally jolts through his body as he does. He pulls back, glaring down at you, gripping your wrist, tiny in his massive grip, making you wince a bit, looking up at him with frightened eyes.

“Do you have any cursed energy!?” He demands, narrowing those intense eyes of his, you step back, shaking your head quickly.

“You know I do not. Why ask?” You whisper, he grabs your wrist even tighter, sensing every bit of your body, finding nothing. Why then, had he felt that!? Some odd shock through his system!?

He’d never kiss you again, it is quite annoying.

As the ceremony goes, and Suguru has many people around him, including some redhead you notice is all over him, you come across two little girls, who you’ve been informed are like daughters to Suguru. They both study you curiously, the little blond with pigtails smiling at you.

“You’re just a human, right?” She says, and you nod, shyly.

“Does it… suck to have no powers?” The little brunette says, and you sigh.

“Honestly, no. I don’t want all of that responsibility I guess? Do you all…” They both hold balls of energy, and you step back, heart racing as they giggle.

“Girls, not at the ceremony.” You’re almost shocked to hear him sound- kind, affectionate?- from across the room, chuckling a bit.

“Fine, dad.” They speak at the same time you notice, then they bombard you with more and more questions, while Suguru watches curiously, Manami murmuring things she’d do to him in his ear, as the other members start to dance. Someone dances with you, then, and Suguru…

Well he doesn’t fucking like it.

Why!? You’re nothing really.

When you’re finally done in the ceremony, and you’ve been dressed in some dainty little see through slip, you feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment, as they finally leave after slathering you in fragrant oil, brushing your hair till it gleamed. You eye yourself in the mirror nervously, seeing the color on your cheeks, the way your eyes look so… frightened really.

Being promised to Suguru meant being sheltered, and aside from making out and some touching when you could sneak out, you were indeed a virgin, and having your first time with a dude who wants to kill you just doesn’t sound fun. You sure wouldn’t let him see how afraid you were, not when he walks into the room, a goblet of wine in his hand, sighing and shutting the door.

You’re tense as he eyes your, thin transparent material showcasing your curves, the nip of your waist, the just of your hips, and most tantalizingly the swell of your breasts. His breath catches at just how good you do look, his cock twitching in response, irritating him to no end.

Perhaps this is just his stupid body’s response, but he does not get attracted to humans, they disgust him, even the pretty ones. But you are… exceptionally sexy right now, could it be all the wine, could it be that he saw you before he changed? Suguru shoves all those thoughts back, gulping down the rest of the red wine now, a drip falling from the corner, and you’re just standing there.

“Let’s get this over with.” He mumbles, and you glare then, making him smirk but also making his cock even more full of blood.

“Let’s, I don’t want this any more than you.” You mumble, unlacing the ribbons over your gown then, and he’s irritated at how bad his hands itch to take it off you, instead raising a brow.

“Oh I doubt that, at least you get to fuck me, someone with power. I am the one that has to fuck a pathetic monkey.” Your scowl deepens, as he unlaces his belt, letting his robes fall, and you see his perfect body, well formed pecs and cut abdomen, lines and swirls of tattoos all over his body, even on his corded arms.

You falter for only a moment, because his body is literally perfect, down to the trail of dark hair below his flat belly button, but you quickly shove all that out, ignoring the way your body is reacting to just seeing him. “Monkey, huh, is that what you call humans?”

“Sure is, pathetic monkeys, lesser developed and-” He pauses when your dress falls in a silky pool to your ankles, and you stand there naked fully, his heart dropping into his damn stomach.

His cock is leaking precum just staring at you, god you’re fucking beautiful, so beautiful he doesn’t think he can put a word to it. It’s as if his cock doesn’t recognize you’re some pathetic human, neither do hands that itch to touch, and his tongue that wants to just lick you.

Fuck you’re annoying.

Why are you built like this!? Your perfect tits alone are making him ache for you so badly he can hardly breathe, as they rise and fall with your own nervous breaths, and you look right at him, boldly. Suguru tries to avert his eyes, to play it off in any way, but he’s awestruck, lips parted, as he watches you cross your arms under those breasts, sees a hint of a pussy he wants to bury himself inside.

Fuck if you were just… if you just had some powers, he’d have so much fun with you, god he’d tell you how pretty you were. He’d make you cum on his mouth over and over, feel you gripping his long locks, but he can’t because you’re… you’re nothing, really, just a monkey… he has to remember.

You see red lining his perfect cheekbones, making you curious at him until he clears his throat, averting his eyes and releasing his hair, letting it cascade over broad shoulders. “Let’s just… get it done.” You murmur then, sitting on the futon now, decked with reds and golds in the luxurious room they had made for the two of you.

That’s when Suguru sees your perfect little pussy, making him bump into the side table, you blink a bit, curiously at him, thighs spread as you rest on your elbows. He cannot even function, you are so perfect he hates it, surely there is something about you, some energy they’re missing, there is no way that you’re a human, with such effects on him!?

He lets his pants fall as he tries to pull himself together, and that’s when you see him, rock hard and thick, far, far too many inches. You panic, wondering just how the fuck that’s gonna fit, you’d had fingers inside you that hurt a bit before, this was probably gonna wreck you. You almost shut your thighs, watching his reddened tip drool pearly drops of precum.

Sheltered but not stupid, he was clearly ready. You raise a brow. “You seem pretty… ready for such a monkey in front of you, hmm?”

Suguru glares now, grabbing you by the hair, cock near your face, you wonder if he’ll shove it in your mouth wildly, but he’s just pulling at your hair, making you gasp out in pain, as he tilts your head back. “Do you even know what to do, pathetic little fucking monkey!?”

“I haven’t before, no.” You whisper then, and he pauses, gulping down some horrible sense of guilt. Not only has he not been with a virgin, he knows he’s clearly not your choice for this.

What is it that's making him feel so much?

He hates it. He hates you.

Is it the fact that he can see you’re afraid, he lays with women who coo over him, who are soaking wet as he just smiles at them, women who drop to their knees if he snaps his fingers. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but he shouldn’t care, right? What are humans to a sorcerer?

“I know you need an heir, so just… put it in me.” You say, he chuckles then, shaking his head as he shoves you back on the bed, bouncing just slightly when he rests over you on an elbow, sucking on two fingers then.

It’s so lewd, how his mouth wraps the thick digits, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks on them, before he sinks two right in your tight little cunt, making you gasp at the stretch, and making him exhale, holding back a moan. You’re so tight, clenching him, your gummy little walls convulsing, making him picture just how good you’ll feel around his cock.

“Do you have to!? Just get it in.” You whisper, and he glares down at you, lips parted at your utter lack of knowledge and insolent mouth.

“I can’t, you’re too tight, stupid monkey.” You glare and shove at his chest, only making him chuckle more. “You think I wanna prep or even touch you?”

“You think I w-want those or that in me!? No, just do it. Stop that… touching me inside… mnh!” At the sound of your own moan you cover your mouth, gasping as your eyes shoot up to his, he tilts his head, long silky hair falling like a curtain to the side of you both, as he presses on that spot again.

This time your eyes roll back, and he knows he’s found it, that spot in your pretty pussy that is just a little spongier, as your cunt starts drooling, and his cock has to press against the bed, for any pressure. Not only do you feel so good, so wet, you’re also fucking gorgeous as your head falls back, eyes fluttering shut, and he looks down at the mess you’re making.

“Messy little thing, tsk.” He says then, and you’re struggling to form a word when he puts his fingers back in, building pressure in your tummy that feels far too good, making you hate him more. “Hear her, huh? Monkey that excited?”

“D-don’t hear shit, don’t even l-like it.” You manage to utter out, and he’s smirking down at you, kissing down your breasts far too fondly, moaning as your walls are fluttering around his fingers, sucking a pretty, puffy nipple in his mouth. “Just fuck me, would you?”

“It will hurt you… I-” You pause, blinking as he leans up from licking and biting your breasts, little trails of saliva, as you look at him with wide eyes.

“What do you care, you don’t need me to like it to give me an heir. Just get it done so I can go to sleep.”

Your words hit him then, why does he care? Suguru could slaughter a village but can’t imagine fucking you without preparing you properly, fuck he wanted you to like it, to want him. And why!?

“You won’t be able to take me, tiny pathetic little cunt can’t.” You scowl as he sucks on a nipple again, scissoring his fingers in your cunt now, making lewd squishing sounds as you feel you’re soaked, mortifying you.

“Stop sucking on them, you don’t need to.” You shove him again, and he glares, leaning over you now, intimidating as he curls slick fingers, making you gasp in pleasure, biting your lower lip hard so you don’t scream out how good it is.

“If I must breed you, I’ll do it how I wish to. Stop acting as if you can tell me what to do.”

“I hate you.” You smack him then, earning a psychotic glare, and you realize fuck you’ve messed up, as he takes his fingers out of your pussy and shoves them right in your mouth, making you choke on them.

“Will you shut up, stupid monkey, fuck.” He’s then lining up his cock with your entrance, shoving your thighs up high. “Fine then, wanna get it over with, huh?”

You nod eagerly, hating every second under him, even if your body betrayed you. “Sure do, fucking psycho.”

“Psycho, huh?” You nod again, then gasp in pain as he fills you, stuffing your cunt full in one stroke, making it burn even though you are soaked and prepared somewhat, nothing could really prepare for his huge cock inside you.

“Ah!” You blink back tears, tears that bother him, and they shouldn’t, but now he wants to tenderly brush back your hair, that’s fallen on your brow. He wants to pull back out and prep you more, but you’re an insolent brat who won’t even let him, and he shouldn’t want to.

But your pussy gripping him drives him insane, to the point he could cum in a stroke or two, it’s gripping that fucking good. He can’t take it, he rests his head in the crook of your neck, so you don’t see an already pussy drunk face when he pulls back, shoving his cock even deeper, and feels your nails in his back, digging, hears your little cries of pain.

He wants cries of pleasure.

What the fuck are you doing to him!?

Is it human to have a pussy like this, he wonders, biting back a moan and leaning up, grabbing at one of your thighs to sink deeper, and you hate that it starts to feel good, when he starts fucking into you. Thick cock stretching, as your cunt gushes around him, his tip dragging on some spot that makes your eyes roll back again in pleasure, and this fucker notices.

“She’s fuckin’ soaking my cock, huh? Like it, pathetic little monkey, a sorcerer over you?” You manage to glare, shaking your head, his attractive smirk widening, as he fucks you deeper and harder, and you’re a tremblind mess under him. “Oh no, you don’t hmm?”

“N-no, hate it. Hate you.” He scowls now, as you gulp down moans and cries he’s dying to hear, so he pays attention, to when you’re gasping, clamping down, realizing the spot and angle you’re dying over, so Suguru grins down at you, lifting your thighs up so high he slams your cervix. “Ah!”

“There it is.” He whispers to himself, pressing on the backs of your thighs and slamming your cervix, over and over, as you’re moaning so sexy, your back arching, while he’s folding you damn near in half now. “F-fuck… you feel so…” He stops himself, he can’t say that.

It feels so perfect.

Feels like you’re made to take his cock.

You’re so pretty under him, perspiration on your forehead, eyebrows scrunched, lips red from you biting them, your eyes glazed over. God you’re gorgeous, as his cock is throbbing inside your tight walls, and you’re struggling so hard to act like you hate it, when he’s hitting that spot over and over, his tip dragging on it again and again. You moan out loud, whining when he rolls his hips bottoming out.

“J-just cum, finish it. W-wanna be d-done.” You whisper, he glares now at you.

“Not enjoying it at all?”

“Hate it. B-boring.” Suguru laughs now, shaking his head, slamming into you, and you’re screaming out, convulsing, feeling pressure build and build, realizing with a panic then.

You’re gonna cum.

Not for him, dammit!

You struggle to hold back, shaking your head and covering your face, when he lets your thighs fall to the side, yanking your hands off your face, pinning your wrists above your head with a strong hand, long fingers wrapping your delicate wrists like they’re nothing. You gasp at it, as his other hand yanks you by your hip, slamming you down his length.

“I’ll look upon your face.” He says through his teeth, dying to watch it when you cum, and fuck he feels it, you’re so close. He wants it then, he needs it, you to cum all over him, milking him so good, and your eyes go wide in shock, but they’re already so fucked out. He’s leaking precum inside you, dragging on that spot and watching you unravel for him.

“Why do y-you wanna- mnh, f-fuck!” You’re clinging to the sheets, when Suguru would like you to cling to him, as he sends you over the fucking edge, and he watches your gorgeous face screw up in pleasure, making his cock pulse.

Fuck you’re pretty.

Fuck he hates you for doing this.

He’s never even felt anything better than this.

“Can’t help yourself, huh monkey? Gonna cum all over my cock, aren’t you?” He whispers, you shake your head, still pinned under him, and he lays over you, grinding his cock inside you, dark hair on his pelvis just pressing on your neglected clitoris, then you feel it, and he moans. “There it is.”

“No, no, no… f-fuck you… hate… ah!” You’re shattering, cumming so hard you can’t even see, all while this psycho watches avidly, and you hate him more for it, for giving you this orgasm that almost makes you faint. “Sh-shit… mnh…”

Your cunt soaks his cock as the orgasm wrecks your brain, as you’re convulsing around his thick veiny cock, with its tip pressing into your cervix, and you’re twitching under him, pathetic. You gasp as he fucks you through it, disoriented and blinking rapidly at how euphoric you feel, listening to the grunts and groans of his and the squelching of your cunt.

“Oh my… f-fuck…” Suguru groans now, unable to hold back any longer, violet eyes so dilated they look black as they drink in your face, lips hovering over yours, cock fucking harder and harder.

You almost cum again, clenching around him, as he moves over you, stuttering in his rhythm finally, faltering just a bit, gripping you tightly as he moans out, his breath hot against your lips, lips he wants to kiss, a mouth he wants to spit inside, tongue he wants to feel on his skin. You’re maddening, he realizes then, as he gets closer to his release, his cock throbbing at your pussy milking him so good.

“Mnh… shit I hate… you…” You whisper, as you’re cumming again, and he grips your wrists so hard they’ve gone numb, starting to pump hot loads of cum inside, you, groaning out loud at how good it feels.

“Milking me, shit… f-feels so fucking perf-” Suguru holds it back, luckily you’re too fucked out to care, as his cum fills you, so hot and gooey, and you’re both gasping for breaths, the room quiet save front he sounds of his cock slipping inside you, and your hearts pounding. “Filled you so fucking good, monkey, hmm?”

“G-good, it’s over…” You whisper, damn near delirious as your aftershocks make your sticky walls grip him, he gasps at it, pumping even more, as he looks into your eyes, feeling too much.

“Y-yes. Over.” He manages to spill out, and you whimper when he kisses your neck, something he shouldn’t indulge in, easing off your wrists and looking at them, his hand left prints clearly.

You ease them down, fingers wresting on his shoulders for a moment, a moment that feels too good, too natural, before you press on him. “Can you go, then?”

“What?” He blinks in confusion, cock still inside of you, fuck he never even wants to leave, so hot and wet and-

“Your seed is inside me, we should be good for now. I’m… sore. Please get off of me.” You look away now, and Suguru’s pulse races, as you refuse to look at him whatsoever when he gets off, easing his cock out of you with a messy pop sound, tensing as he sees the evidence of your innocence between your thighs.

“Let me clean you up.” He murmurs, and you glare, shaking your head and closing your legs then. “Would you just-”

“Fuck you, get out. I don’t need you cleaning me up, we’re good until… I guess whenever we have to do this again.” You stand on wobbly legs, as Suguru stands, looming over you as you head to the shower adjoining the room, grabbing you by the top of your arm. “What!?”

“So eager to run off, monkey? You should thank me.”

You laugh then, ignoring the throb of your pussy and the pounding in your head, fuck him he felt so good in you, you’ve never even felt that good before, not from little orgasms you gave yourself. You hate him more for it, not only did your first time have to be with this ass of a man, a psycho killer, you also came when you didn’t even want to, making it all worse/

“Thank you!? For what!”

“For cumming inside you.” He presses you against the wall then, looming over you so tall, his sweet breath like the grapes of the wine as he grabs your chin, forcing your eyes on his. “For making a monkey like you cum.”

“You didn’t make me cum, stupid psycho.” You glare right at him, chest heaving as you speak the lies, but he laughs right down at you, thumb brushing over a lip with teeth indentations from how hard you bit it.

“Didn’t cum? You’re a fucking liar, on top of being pathetic. Useless.”

“Useless, yes except to have your stupid heir. I can’t wait to get pregnant, actually, so I’ll never have to get touched again.”

“Oh yeah, so fucking horrible?”

“Terrible.”

“And you’re disgusting to me.”

“Good!” You shove at his strong chest, slick with sweat, and pause there then, as does he, a hand now entwined at the nape of your neck, as he dies to kiss you, brutally, over and over, but he just holds you there. “Am I done for the night Lord Geto, or whatever the fuck you like to be called?”

He’d like you to scream Suguru.

Fuck.

“Will you just let me clean you up, it was your first time and-”

“Oh no, you’re not gonna play like you care at all. We did what we had to do, what we both had to do, neither of us wanted it, or enjoyed it. Right?” You demand then, raising a brow, and he scowls.

“Not right, and I’m just-”

“I remember it, meeting you, you were… sweet.”

He laughs then. “What?”

“You were, and him? I’d have been happy to do this, but you? I don’t wanna look at you and think of it. Let me go.” He scowls as he goes to grab his clothes now, and you lean against the wall, covering your face, not wanting him to see just how you are affected by him.

“I’ll be putting a curse at your door, to make sure you don’t run.” He says then, making you blink in shock, seeing he’s dressed finally, putting his hair back up.

“I have nowhere to run to.” He pauses at that, jaw locked. “But go ahead, maybe it’ll be better company than you.”

Suguru scoffs. “Clean up.”

“Get out.” You order, finally he turns, walking out, leaving you to step into the shower, letting the hot spray hit you, sore in places you’ve never imagined, thinking just how much you hate him.

You’re sobbing then, under the coverage of the shower, where no one would see you, see what he’s done to you, your mental state in ruins. You scrub everywhere his elegant fingers touched, everywhere his lush lips kissed, hissing when you wash your sore pussy, looking down at your fingers, finding his cum pouring out of you. Hot, sticky white cum washed by the shower.

Steam fills as you slide down to sit in the shower, resting your head on your knees, hating him so much you can barely breathe. Bad enough he fucked you, why did he have to make you enjoy it, why did he act like he cared for your pleasure, cared for you after even? A lie, all a lie, and it’s the last thing you need. 

You will hate him.

Outside your room, Suguru leans his back against your door, trying to catch his breath, head swirling with you, hands shaking as they brush back his hair. You have him shaking, you annoying, stupid brat of a girl, who wouldn’t even let him try to care for you, at all.

Why’d he want to though? You were right, your duty was fulfilled for the night, he should stop thinking of how he’d love to be in that shower with you, how he’s dying to be back inside you, imagining making you admit how good it felt. He could feel your slick on his cock still, wondering if you feel him pouring out of you, dying to breed you again, again, again.

He detests you.

Summoning a curse, a rather derpy looking one shaped like a bull with several eyes, he plops him next to your door now, this is a docile curse he’s had since his youth, bringing back too many memories. Of being happy, of laughing, of a girl named Riko, right before he’d snapped, her riding this curse on its back as they tried their best to save her.

It proved how disgusting humans were that day, lest he ever forget, his fist clenched as he struggles to gain his resolve, looking down at the creature now. “Guard this door.” It nods, tongue lolling out, Suguru sighs then. “Also make sure you… care for the girl in this room. Yes?”

It nods again, as Suguru does not know if you are safe really, surely no one would go against him, but there is much hatred already for humans, and many, many people hate you. But he wants you to be safe, otherwise he’ll just get another bride thrown on him, and who knows if he’d hate her more.

Suguru ends up in his room now, sighing as he sees Manami there with another woman from his cult, he shakes his head as they try to disrobe him. “No, I am not in any sort of mood for it.”

“But Suguru, it must've been awful.” Manami cooes, and the other girl nods, as they rub up and down his arms, making him feel disgusted.

How?

How do they, powerful women, make him disgusted now? He owes you no loyalty, he did not plan to only be with you, but the thought of anyone but you actually makes him sick. What sort of witchcraft do you possess, some new undetectable kind that he hasn’t figured out, to make him feel like this? Are you some weapon to destroy his fucking plans?

“Go. Now.” Suguru orders then, and they pout as they leave, but Suguru can’t get his mind off you, not when he’s washing you off in the shower, every vivid thought of making you enjoy it fills his mind.

Suguru hates you more when he’s stroking his cock to the thought of you whimpering, begging for him, on your knees with your tongue out. He’s moaning as he pinches his tip, he already came so much but he can’t stop how hard he is, thinking of how your eyes would cross as he fucked your throat, as he came so deep and you swallowed him greedy.

Thinking of you riding him, your tits bouncing right in his face, your thighs squeezing his face as he lapped his cup out of your pussy after. ‘F-fuck, you like it, don’t you’ he’s muttering, wet hair sticking to his back as water pounds down, and he’s stroking his cock faster and faster, eyes shutting, vivid pictures of you everywhere.

‘That’s it, good girl, cumming just for me, mine, aren’t you’ he’s stuttering, saying stupid insane shit, so high off your pussy he can’t even talk himself out of it, not when his big hand strokes his thick shaft over and over.

When Suguru cums again he moans out loud, hunching over and gasping for a breath, hating you more for what you’ve done when his sticky cum pours all out of his hand now. He rinses himself off, shaking his head and covering it with his other hand, realizing jerking off was nothing like cumming inside you, like fucking your perfect little pussy.

Just who the fuck are you?

******

The next day of being Suguru’s wife, you open the door and gasp, seeing some bull shaped creature who’s grinning at you, several eyes wide open as it licks your leg, making you squeak. “What!?”

“He likes you.” Comes Mimiko’s voice, she’s poking around on her phone, and you take a breath, smiling a bit.

Just because Suguru is a psychotic dick, it doesn’t mean you’d take it out on little girls, or oddly cute curses. “Can I pet it?” You ask, and Nanako giggles next to her sister, stepping closer.

“He’s docile.” She pets him then, and the thing damn near purrs, you bend down on your knees now, petting him yourself, sighing.

“He’s kinda cute?” They burst out in laughter, leaving the hall then, as you find the first bit of comfort in one of stupid, psycho Suguru’s curses. “You like me?”

He nods, licking on your cheek, you swipe at it, wincing as it runs off, and suddenly Suguru Geto is standing right in front of you, as you’re just on your knees still, looking up at him. Vivid insane thoughts fill you, as you feel your tummy clench, pussy so sore from him still, thinking of the dreams you’d had of this ass of a man, and now you’re just… there.

He freezes when he sees your hair fall back, loose and flowing, shimmering likely from your shower, and you’re right where he pictured you, what he jerked himself to over and over. The urge to pull out his cock and fuck your pretty face was overwhelming, driving him so insane his cock responds violently, already leaking precum, annoying him to no end.

He’d turned down more women this morning, because now he’s coming to a really annoying realization- he wants you. Only you. He’s blaming his stupid body, for wanting a petty human, but it’s undeniable, while you just blink and look up for a moment, before you clear your throat, standing and grabbing the door way, looking away now.

“Where’d the curse go? I like him.”

“You like him!?”

“Better than you, I was right. He’s cuter.” You smile then, and he glares, grabbing you right by your throat, only making you laugh.

“Who’s the psycho here, me or you?” He whispers, and you grip his wrist now, as he looks how pretty your neck is with his hand around it, as he looks at glossy lips he wants to kiss.

“Gonna kill me before the heir?” You whisper, when he squeezes just so.

“Tempting to do so.” He whispers against your lips, and you come to a very annoying realization of your own, when your nipples tighten, when your pussy drips from him choking you.

You want this psycho.

Just your body, you’ll just blame that, but it’s undeniable, and it makes you despise him more. “Go for it, put me outta my misery. Won’t have to look at you.” You say, he squeezes harder, stepping a little further in the room, as you feel lightheaded, and fucking horny.

What’s wrong with you!?

“Why don’t we work harder on making it happen then?”

“Now!?” You demand, and he shuts the door, smirking, undoing his black robes as you rub your sore neck.

“Now.”

Taglist open for parts two and three if you're not on it already <3 Hope you enjoyed this, I know Geto doesn't hit like my Gojo or Sukuna posts, but I rly tried lol. Can't wait to see what ya'll think!

Taglist #1- @ur-1fav-girl @gradmacoco @arabellasolstice @saitamaswifey @rjreins @uarmyhopeworldwide @makkiihehe @dabisdolly @angelzrulez21-blog @espresso1patronum @juicu @meme848 @arcanedx @satxoru @jeon-blue @longlivegojo @silvarys @enhasrii @inthedarkshadows000 @shokosmokes @schlokki @ashdiamashi @socutesotall @staarflowerr @you-need-namjesus @tojicvmslut @pkcoleight @tasteofapplecider @erenspersonalwh0re @soyokosuguru @boobsbeesbongos @sjstg3 @msniks @hhhhhhhikariiiiiiii @l1v1ngzomb1e @lilbxtchsyndrome @voideddd @maddyhehehehhe @norikuna @yenayaps @alygator77 perm tags (rest in rbs) @honeybunnnnie @alt--er--love @indiewritesxoxo @nanasukii28 @makingtimemine @cuntphoric @loafteaw

[revelboo]

I just know EIA! Megs is gonna hold the carrier thing Over their heads in the most PETTY of ways. Like the human and Starscream are like. Bickering about names like "They need a powerful name. Like Vaportrail or Heatseek." and the Human's like "Oh, I was thinking bc your name is STARscream it could be one of the stars we've named, like...Polaris or Arcturus." and then Megatron chimes in like "We're naming them after a poet." "What?!" "Hey, that's not-" "I'm sorry, WHO is the one who was forced into carrying?? Thats right me." or like. "Wow I cant believe I managed to find a pack of rust sticks." "yeah, amazing. Especially since your CARRIER would love rust sticks rn." "You're such an ass, ugh. here."

He absolutely will and bring it up every chance he gets

Everything Is Alright Pt 128

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Shockwave x Reader

• Antenna immediately flattening back upon seeing you cradled in Starscream’s hand, you at least take a petty pleasure in the fact that Shockwave is as unhappy to see you as you are to see him. “Lord Megatron has ordered more tests be run on my human,” Starscream says, wings flaring as he curls his lip derisively and lies through his denta while you struggle to not laugh at how serious he sounds. Wings preening like he’s showing you off and it’d be cute if you weren’t still nursing your annoyance with all of them.

• Venting softly as he lingers nearby to watch over you, Soundwave divides his attention between you and Shockwave. While the scientist is an old friend, most of that friend was stripped away a long time ago. Every good thing torn away like his face. Knows you don’t like Shockwave, but they’ll need him to create protoforms for them. Servos flexing as his own thoughts snag him. Protoforms. Wanting that. Wanting you with his sparkling, to spark you. To have a family even if it’s this dysfunctional mess as long as you’re part of it.

• Easing you down on the counter, Starscream’s servo lingers against your back. Reassuring himself and you. Because Shockwave? Unpredictable at best, motivated by who knew what. “There are other aliens besides humans out there, right?” You ask as Shockwave retrieves a scanner. “Other organics.” You’re looking up at him, expression uncertain. And he nods slowly as you look away to track Shockwave. “So Cybertronians and other organics?” You ask and he realizes what you’re asking. As far as he knows, organics have always been a taboo.

• ‘There are archival records of Cybertronians bonding organics in the past,’ Shockwave interrupts and Star looks more surprised than you are. Making it apparent he hadn’t know. “What about the sparklings?” You ask, holding still as the light of the scanner plays over you. ‘Sparklings? There were no viable sparks created from such unions,’ Shockwave growls, frowning at the screen. And you look up at Star then Soundwave. Because you’d been hoping for some reassurances. That this was going to work out in the end, but you’re back to being a weird one-off again. Your whole species weirdly compatible with theirs.

• “Query- the lifespans of such bonded pairs?” Soundwave asks and you look at him in surprise, before your expression empties and you look up at Starscream. ‘How long do you guys normally live?’ You ask him, voice tight. Not bothering to look up from studying the scanner, Shockwave’s antennas flick. ‘The organic’s lifespan is bound to the Cybertronian’s, not the other way around,’ Shockwave growls. And Soundwave’s tension eases, venting raggedly as he turns his attention back on you, watching you frown up at Starscream while he tells you how long they live. How long you might live if nothing happens to your bonded mates. And you pale slightly, nodding absently. ‘Why are there now two spark bond signatures?’ Shockwave growls, as he holds up the scanner.

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[bbyg4rl]

reader getting all hot and bothered watching jj fix her car

thank you for fixing my car JJ

cw: jj x reader, no established relationship, oral (m receiving) !

summary: you thank jj for fixing your car.

a/n: this was supposed to be a small blurb but i got carried away lol hope you like this anon ♡

"you should let me take care of your car more" JJ speaks out from where he was hunched over your car's open hood. You had been watching him for fifteen minutes now. Fifteen minutes of the best view in obx. Fifteen minutes of grunts and pants and back and abs and arms. What a view.

You were sure the oil from your car ruining jj's shirt was just the universe blessing you. It's not everyday you can sit and watch a shirtless jj work.

"all done dumbass" he says pushing the hood of your car down with a loud grunt. Your eyes refuse to leave the sight of his arms as the muscles flex.

"Oh wow" you whisper to yourself, taking mental polaroids of every movement he makes.

Not a word leaves your mouth when he faces you. Your pussy's doing the talking now.

You can't help but rub your thighs together when he shoots you a shit eating grin all covered in grease and oil.

And of course he notices the affect he's having on you. He was enjoying this too.

Why else would a two minute fix take fifteen minutes? Why else would a perfectly fine oil sump shoot oil all of a sudden? That too only on his shirt?

Seeing you all worked up over had him worked up. He had his eyes on you the whole time. He'd seen every lip bite, every clench of your thighs, every flutter of your stomach- he was feeling everything you were feeling.

It took a special kind of control for him not to take you right there. To resist dirtying you with his greasy hands and bathe you in engine oil as he bent you over the hood and slid in and out of you.

He walked over to you slowly, his greasy hands now on your knees. "No 'thank you JJ'?"

"Thank you JJ" You say to him softly, voice on the verge of whimpers. You knew that he knew what you were feeling.

He takes a step back and points to himself. "Look at me baby- a small thank you isnt gonna cut it now is it?"

He takes your hand and pulls you off your seat. Your knees felt like jelly as he led you to the back seat of your car. He opened the door and you slid into the seat, earning a chuckle from him. He slides in after you and closes the door.

"Thank you for fixing my car JJ" you giggle out as your hands reach the hem of his shorts, He groans when you palm his crotch a few times before pulling them down.

You're quickly met with his cock, standing proud in front of your face. You wrap your arms around him and give him a few slow strokes. It's only fair he deserved to feel good after all the hard work he had just done.

He pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail with his hand and tugs you lower, silently ordering you to open up. And you gladly did. He pushed your face lower and lower as his dick twitched in your throat.

He held you down for a few more moments before using his grip on your hair to bob your head up and down on him. He hit the back of your throat with every rutt of his dick against you. Your mascara ran down your cheeks as he continued to fuck your mouth with his cock.

He pulls you off when hes satisfied with how much mascara is smeared on your face. He taps your cheek a few times- his silent code for please me.

You take his signal and reach out to stroke him, wrapping your mouth around his pink tip, You slowly suck as you tighten your hands around his shaft, twisting them around his girth, alternating between small kitten licks on his tip and long licks on the veins on his underside.

It didnt take long for him to reach his climax. He let out small whimpers as he paints your face with his cum.

"Thank you for fixing my car JJ" you say again as you lap up at the sticky liquid around your lips.

check out my other works ! masterlist

[laambfuzz]

—- lunch munch club. ft schlatt. ᝰ

summary: watching porn late one night when you come across an interesting video. you're taken by surprise when you see the main male star is also the man who's streams you tune into almost daily.

— tags: smut, lunch club!schlatt, munch schlatt, mentions of oral, schlatt does purn (duh), open ending.. so we can expand upon this if we're interested.

authors note: hii! the two ideas i had originally can wait, because the lovely @fanficfox posted something about lc!schlatt doing porn and it struck me with inspo. so! everyone say thank you fox, and i hope you all enjoy! ♡

it's not uncommon for you to have some time to just yourself and the stash of porn videos that pop up on your twitter feed

twitter algorithm knows what to give you these days, which is nice. it saves you the hassle of finding a good account

but perhaps twitter knows you a little too well, when you're recommended a video of a guy eating a girl out

and you're intrigued of course, because who doesn't love that? especially when the camera is on her chest, helping entice you into the experience. as if it were you

the video is already a few seconds in by the time you click on it, and you're introduced to the scene with obscene moans escaping the girl

you can see her thighs tremble around the head in between her thighs, her free hand reaching out to run her fingers through the male's hair

you can hear muffled groans from in between her thighs, and you watch as the head moves back slightly, taking a breath

"god sweetheart, you taste so fuckin' good. could stay down here all night and take my sweet time with you."

that's when a shiver runs through your body, because oh. that sounded like.. and you supposed when you looked at the figure of the male, and the hair..

no. you were being stupid. of course you were. why on earth would schlatt of all people do porn. you know what he's like, he wouldn't

but oh, he would. and when he raises his head from beneath the girl's thighs with his lips glistening with her slick, you're frozen

it's as if your mind has short-circuited, because what the fuck?? you have so many questions; why was schlatt doing porn, why was he not making it subtle, why was he fucking good at it?

you don't have time to focus on your own questions, because your eyes are drawn back to the screen. you watch as his slim, naked body crawls up the bed, getting closer to the camera, licking his lips slowly as he groans

"words can't describe how good that was. need you to taste yourself, baby."

and with that, he's leaning over the camera to lock lips with the girl

immediately you close the tab. your whole being is flushed, and you feel hot inside for many reasons

you felt like you shouldn't have seen that, like you were.. intruding. which was stupid, he put this on the internet, there's nothing private about that

you decided you'd sleep it off. or that maybe this was a bizarre dream you'd wake up from not too long from now. anything but clicking back onto it

and yet only 10 minutes later, you had re-opened the tab

the next evening, schlatt is streaming and you try to watch it like normal. as if last night didn't happen

but you couldn't

now, every time he makes a suggestive joke or comment, you're transported back to last night

when he rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck mid-stream, you remember how he looked doing it in the video, before he crawled towards the camera

when he licks his lips after taking a drink, getting the remnants of whatever liquid he had consumed from them, you can only see him licking the girl's slick off himself

you felt insane, like you couldn't act normal about it

and maybe it was part of the insanity, but it felt like he knew.

maybe you were just psychoanalysing his every move now, but you could've sworn he was never like this before.. he was

you decided to test the waters with a few donations littered throughout the night

when he has ordered food in and was wolfing it down, there were scraps and sauces across his lips

"are you always this messy? i thought you liked to take your time with things."

when he's reviewing a video and he's talking a lot over a particular section

"you ever been told you talk too much, or do people usually like that?"

or, when he's playing a poorly made hide 'n' seek game with fans

"i'm not sure you're as good at hiding things as you may think."

"oops, 'things' autocorrected in."

every time schlatt hears one of your donations come through tts, he feels a shiver run down his back

he knew his little side hustle wasn't exactly locked behind security, it was just.. out there

maybe he was overthinking it, reading too much into your donations for no reason

either way, he's noting down your name on a sticky note on his desk for next stream for.. reasons.

[zepskies]

Aww thanks so much, friend!! (lol even SB can offer his own version of comfort. 😂)

That's so normal too with pregnancy! We can be our own worst enemy sometimes, but definitely rock those beautiful curves, hun. 😘💗 (LOVE that Joey gif!!!! loll)

Giving me full PTSD here, girl 😂

God I'm so sorry. 😭 Honestly I was using my own PSTD here, so you're not alone. 😅

And yep, that's always the worst when your partner eats so much crap and does not gain an ounce. Like, how?! Are you magic???

Right?!?! This is such a thing with men in particular I think, not just Dean lmfao.

Sobbing 😭 He so would do that! And honestly, love doesn't give a shit about looks. I mean, at some point, we all will be wrinkly and saggy, so you better hope there's more there than looks 😅🤷‍♀️

Gah, I'm so glad you agree! 😭😭 Exactly!! Of course attraction matters, but real, true love gets to the core of a person and doesn't just consider how they looked when you first met one another.

Bury me in a ditch... 🫠🫠

lmfao girl I'll hop in with you. 🤣

Lovely 😆 Oh, Beau! Sweet, sweet Beau... I can so see him and reader getting their wires crossed, and him not even registering it while she quietly suffers 🙈 I feel like that happens a lot to couples, though, when times get a little stressful and busy. Loved the realism of this!!

lolll that visual right? 😅😅 But busy Beau I thought made sense with him getting lost in a case at times, and yeah I agree -- I feel like something like this could very easily happen when couples have been together for a while. Life can just pass you by, but this was a big reminder for Beau. 💗

Poor, tired Beau, though, now dealing with a crying and upset reader 😂 (Do you think he retrospectively wished he would've just let her hop on for a quick ride? lmao)

lmao I'm sure he does!! Though consequently he's now wide awake. 💀

DEAD 💀 Also 💯 agree with this SB headcanon 😂😂 And weirdly, I thought from the start that Ben would probably mind the least of all of them if his partner put on a few extra pounds. If grannies don't scare this man, weight certainly won't either lol (His answer was perfection 😂😘)

ahahaha thank you, lovely!!! YES that was my HC too! I feel like Ben's not only "seen it all," but the granny thing would definitely expose him to some cellulite and stretch marks. I don't feel like a bit of extra weight is gonna deter him from some good pussy. 🤣🤣

But so on point for him to be jealous at first and accuse her of cheating 🙈 I also wonder how long she got away with it, considering that man's sex drive.

Ben has absolutely no chill! 😭 I can't imagine she'd get away with it for very long -- maybe a few weeks at most LOL.

Loved all of them so much, friend!!! 🩵🩵🩵

Aww thank you!! I appreciate you, friend. 🥹 This set of HCs hit close to home for me, and seeing as it did for you too, I'm very glad you enjoyed them. 💕💕

Headcanon: Body Insecurity/Appreciation

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader, Beau Arlen x Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

AN: This one was requested by one of my lovely Patreon members, @roseblue373. 💜 It's a special one to me personally, being plus-sized myself and having gone through my share of insecurities. Wish I had one of these guys to make it better lol!~

Prompt/Request: Great job with the latest Dean/Beau/Ben reacts vignettes! I'd love to see one where reader has put on weight and isn't happy with their body, and how each would make her feel better!! IF the muse agrees, of course! ❤️

HC: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to your body insecurity.

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Established relationship, body insecurity (but also body appreciation), thicc thirty, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, spiciness/smuttishness.

Dean Winchester

You've started breezing past mirrors when you get out of the shower.

Because if you catch sight of your own reflection, you can't help but utter a sigh, your lips dipping into a frown.

In the privacy of the room you share with Dean in the bunker, you take a risk in unwrapping the towel from your body in front of the mirror.

You inspect yourself with growing dejection, noting all the places that are rounder, heavier, less firm than they used to be.

Looks like no amount of running down leads and killing monsters has been enough to keep you in shape.

Too much shitty fast food, too many times you indulged yourself with snacks and dessert alongside your foodie boyfriend.

"What'cha doin', sweetheart?" Dean asks. He steps into the room while wiping donut icing from the corner of his mouth.

Speak of the devil.

When Dean finally catches you frowning at yourself in the mirror, you inhale sharply and close the towel back up.

"Nothing. Just need to get dressed," you reply quickly. "Shower's open."

You try to offer him a smile, despite the pang of jealousy when you eye him.

He gave you the first chance at the shower after the latest case wrapped up, so he's still wearing most of his FBI suit, sans jacket. The white dress shirt is rolled up to his elbows, a few days of scruff neatly trimmed across his cheeks.

The man can cram an entire pizza down his gullet and wash it down with three slices of apple pie, not to mention countless beers. And still, Dean stays looking downright edible.

By comparison, you feel...fat. Like you've let yourself go.

You turn away from him to grab your well-worn sweatpants and an oversized shirt; you plan to change alone in the bathroom, but Dean grabs your arm.

"Who says you need to get dressed?" he says, popping his brows with a suggestive grin. He slips his arms around your waist, but your instinct is to shy away from his hold. You chuckle awkwardly and avoid his now curious gaze.

"Sorry, babe. Um...I'm wiped. I just want to get to bed," you say.

But Dean isn't fooled. His spidey sense is tingling, and his gut is almost never wrong.

His hand slides down your arm and grasps your hand, tugging you back into his arms. You utter a little gasp, but you ultimately smile at his familiar grin. There's a perceptive gleam in his eyes though.

"You know, seems like you've been pretty wiped lately," he says, raising a brow. "It's been a while since we, uh..."

He waggles his brows playfully, squeezing your hips. You want to smile, but you can't let yourself. You can't quite look at him either.

For Dean, it's another glaring red flag. His lips form a frown, and he dips his chin to find your eyes.

"Hey," he says. "What's goin' on? Talk to me."

His tone is so sincere, you have to blink against the sting of tears. Your lower lip wobbles, and Dean frowns in earnest. He presses a hand to your cheek and gets you to look at him with your watery eyes.

"Sweetheart, you gotta tell me what's wrong," he says, more gently, but serious.

Eventually, you're able to get it out. You can't bear the thought of him touching you, because lately, you can't even bear looking at yourself.

"I know I've been gaining weight, I just..." your voice breaks, and you gesture haphazardly at your body. "I'd get it if you're not really into this right now."

Dean's heart clenches. He's downright shocked at your confession, and more than a little disheartened. He presses a hand to your cheek and guides you to look at him.

"All right, hold up just one damn minute."

His calloused fingers gently brush away your tears, but his hands keep moving, slowly traveling down your body. They slide down your bare arms, skimming the sides of your breasts.

Your breath hitches. Your hand is still fisted over your beating heart, keeping your towel closed. His hands continue to move, molding to the curve of your waist over the fuzzy fabric.

"I'll admit, we've been pretty busy lately with everything we've got going on. But if you think that means I'm ever not into this delectable, sexy, voluptuous, goddess body you got rockin' the house?" he says, grinning that utterly Dean grin of his.

You bite your lip against a bubble of laughter. He's too fucking much sometimes.

Dean tugs you closer, until your hips fit snugly against his through his slacks. His tall, broad frame crowds you. His lips skim your cheek, then over your lips in a tease.

He squeezes the flesh of your hips, tender and sensuous.

Your heart flutters at the feeling.

"Mmm, I like you nice and soft," he murmurs against your cheek, close to your ear. "Feels that much better when I fuck you."

A small gasp gets trapped in your throat, while the gravel depths in his voice go straight to your pussy in a pulsing throb of warmth.

By the time he claims your lips in a devouring kiss, you're all too willing to let him peel your towel open, drop it to the floor, and guide you backwards onto the bed.

There he'll take his time, forging yet another mental map of every plush square inch of you.

Beau Arlen

Beau is a busy man. You understand that.

As Sheriff, his job demands a lot from him. He's also a father and has an ex-wife to contend with. (You knew that going in, and you've come to love Emily too.)

However, you can't help but start to take it personally when your sex life begins to suffer. He's often claimed being tired...but there's another suspicion that's been taking root in your mind, feeding your doubts and insecurities about how your boyfriend sees you, and about how you see yourself.

When you slip into bed at night, a kiss goodnight is all he gives you lately, before he's sighing deeply and closing his eyes, his soft snores soon filling the room.

One night, you try touching his shoulder, leaning in to kiss his bearded cheek. He hums at the pleasant feeling.

"You wanna...?" You trail the question in his ear, pressing more sweet kisses down his neck.

"Aw, sweetheart," he groans. "I'd like to, but I think I'd just smother you. I'm about to pass out."

You huff a laugh. You teasingly walk two fingers across his chest. "What if I make it easy for you?"

You shift onto your side. Resting a hand on his chest, you lean down to kiss him. He hums at the softness of it, but the more passion you try to imbue into each new kiss, Beau isn't as responsive as you would like. Eventually, you stop all together.

You frown, becoming disheartened. "You're not into this, I guess."

He opens his tired eyes, gazes up at you in apology. He opens his mouth to reply, but you beat him to it.

"You know it's been a month since we've had sex," you say.

Beau frowns, sliding a hand up your back. Only now does he notice, with appreciation, the familiar silky négligée you're wearing.

"Nah, that doesn't sound right," he says.

"Well, it is," you say. "I know you say you're tired, but I mean, you've had this job for as long as I've known you, Beau." Your eyes fall away from him. "So is it the job, or...is it me?"

Beau's brows furrow. "Now wait a minute."

The mere thought dredges up what's been plaguing your mind recently, and it has your throat tightening. Tears of embarrassment and upset well up in your eyes, no matter how much you try to push it down.

You push away from him and turn away, crossing your arms. You try not to look at yourself in what used to be your favorite lingerie.

You can't stand the extra weight you've put on, mostly in your hips and ass, but in your middle and arms too.

You've gone through your own stress at work this year, with less and less time to try and take care of yourself, along with making sure Emily gets to and from school, cooking for the three of you, going to PTA meetings when Carla can't make it (since Beau often can't), and every other proverbial hat you wear.

Beau follows you, sitting up and laying a hand on your back. "Sweetheart--"

"I know I've put on a few. Hell, more than a few," you admit, hastily wiping under your eyes. "God, I can't even look at myself right now, let alone have you--"

"Hey. You stop right there," Beau says, more firmly. He gets you to turn around with his hand on your shoulder. He doesn't like the way you're curled in on yourself, as if hiding your body from his gaze.

That, and the sight of your tears damn well break his heart.

He cups the side of your face gently and presses a tender kiss to your forehead, followed closely by your lips.

You don't want to melt, but you just can't help it. You cling to the front of his shirt and lean into his kiss, like you've been lost in the desert, and his lips hold the breath of life.

You almost don't realize it when his arms slip around your waist. He earns a surprised yelp from you when he gathers you close against his chest and rolls you underneath him.

You land against the pillows in a huff. You stare up at his playful smile, his green eyes glinting with amusement, with fondness, and also with desire as they roam over your breasts, barely contained by dark green satin and lace.

"I've been neglecting you, haven't I?" he says. His voice is a low, earthy drawl as his gaze rakes over you. His big hand runs down your side and over your hip, then down your bare thigh, squeezing soft, tender flesh. He slips that hand under the satin night gown.

His hand can't span your entire thigh, but it's not for lack of trying. Your heart beats a staccato rhythm at the way he looks at you, your breath hitching when his thumb dips between your legs, brushing against the damp, silky fabric of your panties.

"It's not because I don't find you sexy as hell. Believe me, darlin', I do," he says. "You're so fuckin' beautiful, especially when you're all laid out for me here."

And he means what he says. You know it by the hardness you feel pressing against your hip. You slip your fingers into his hair with a sigh.

He bows his head to press kisses along your neck; down and down, he noses at the thin strap of your night gown. His path of kisses continue, and he indulges himself by dipping his tongue between the valley of your breasts.

"Filling out this lacy little thing so nice," he murmurs into your skin.

Your upset has turned to abject relief, but you still have to blink away the remaining urge to cry.

You let out a slightly tremulous breath.

"Oh, yeah?" you ask.

Beau pauses. He pulls away, just so he can look up and meet your eyes. He still finds insecurity in yours, so he meets you with a kiss filled with heat and intent.

He's now wide awake. He plans to take his sweet time taking you apart, inch by inch.

In fact, in the back of his mind, he also plans to do better about letting his deputies help him out more at the precint so he can have a better work-life balance.

(Because going a whole damn month without the taste of you is "no bueno," in his words.)

Soldier Boy (Ben)

The man may not be very patient, or particularly perceptive, but he's not an idiot.

At least, not about sex.

He knows that you've been feigning tiredness, and generally avoiding his touch.

What's strange is that you haven't been avoiding him. You still cook for him, still share conversation with him, still insist on having him spoon you on the couch while catching him up on the past four decades of TV shows and movies.

But when he begins to sneak a hand under your oversized shirt (an old one of Ben's), caressing your hip, then dipping down to your softer stomach on the way to your panties, breaking your concentration from the movie as unease laces down your spine.

You grab his wrist on reflex, instead lacing your fingers together.

"What's the matter now?" he asks.

You look over your shoulder at him and find him frowning at you, a divot between his brows. You don't manage to hold his gaze for long.

"Sorry," you say quietly. "I'm just, um, tired."

Ben doesn't believe you, and he's direct when he calls you out on it.

Reluctant to put what you've been feeling into words, you pause the movie and leave the couch (and him) behind.

Ben is annoyed enough to follow you (and underneath, he hides an edge of concern). The conflict leads into the bedroom, where you're still unwilling to open up.

He finally stops you from walking away from him, pinning you against the dresser by your hips. He practically looms over you as he demands an answer. He knows you're hiding something — something that's had you reluctant to let him touch you.

"Is there something you wanna tell me?" he says, a raw edge of warning in his tone. "What, are you fucking somebody else?"

Shock flashes in your eyes, making you angry. "What? No!"

"Well, you seem to be getting your fill somewhere, and it hasn't been from me--"

"Are you fucking serious? I'm not..." Your lips purse. You're actually hurt that he would hurl that accusation your way--and it couldn't be farther from the truth.

You tug your long shirt downwards and cross your arms, but it's more like you're hugging yourself, shielding your body away.

Ben's brows furrow a little bit more.

Eventually you get it out; you haven't been feeling up to being intimate because you're having a hard time even looking at yourself lately.

"I know I need to, um, get back in shape," you say, taking in a shaky breath to try and steady yourself. Your throat constricts, the beginnings of tears stinging your eyes. You want to look at anywhere but at Ben. "I just haven't had much time, with everything going on. But Annie gave me this guide on some different diets, like intermittent fasting, Keto--"

"Fasting," Ben intones. "What, you wanna fucking starve yourself? What the fuck is Keto?"

You sigh, barely resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

"No, not starve myself. And Keto's just..." The idea of trying to explain the new diet craze to your boyfriend is too daunting a task to consider. "Never mind. The point is, I have a plan. My hips, my thighs, my ass--"

Ben squeezes your hips at the mention of them. He happens to like the softness.

"Yeah, you've got a little extra. So fucking what?" he says, his voice deep and exacting as his gaze roams over your body. "Just gives me more to hold onto when I'm fucking you."

You utter a shocked laugh. "Ben!"

He grins lazily, and he turns you this way and that, admiring you from all angles. In his eyes, he doesn't find a side he doesn't like. You can't help but blush hotly under his gaze.

"Sweetheart, do whatever you want if it makes you feel good. But you don't need to starve yourself." His hands move to your ass, squeezing a bit harder on the plush flesh.

A yelp escapes you; he's pressing into you from the front as well, and you feel him heavy and already half-hard against you. You grab onto his arms for stability as your breaths quicken.

His attitude kind of surprises you, even though it soothes the frayed, insecure part of your soul that wants to be as beautiful and attractive in his eyes as he is in yours.

Ben is literally a super soldier. You're actually kind of jealous. The man can drug and booze hard and eat whatever the hell he wants, but his super metabolism just seems to absorb it into his washboard abs.

(The more you think about it, the more you want to smack him.)

Nothing about him isn't hard and lean, muscle and strength.

Only his hands have a measure of gentleless when they're holding you like this.

"I've just got so many stretch marks now," you begin to complain, in an emotional whisper.

He snorts. "And? You think it's anything I haven't seen?"

At that, your head tilts in consideration. Butcher's Granny Fucker remark comes to mind. You bite your lip against a smirk.

Ben crooks a curled finger under your chin. He guides you to meet his eyes, before he lures you into a lusty kiss.

It's somewhat rough because of his beard, but you still smile afterwards, leaning against him now.

"Ain't nothing about you that I can't handle," he adds, all smirking and cocky. To prove his point, he hooks those strong hands behind your thighs and lifts you onto the dresser.

You gasp and cling to his shoulders. From there, he makes quick work of ridding the oversized shirt from your body, revealing you to the cool air and his hot gaze.

You take his face in your hands and bring him in for an even steamier kiss, your heart lighter and trembling with anticipation.

You've held yourself from him long enough, Ben thinks, and he has every intention of devouring you right on your old dresser -- before you two even get to the bed.

AN: 😮‍💨 I feel like each of these could've been even longer with their own one-shot loll. I wrote the Midnight Espresso-verse for Dean, partially to explore what his relationship would be like with a plus-sized reader. 💖💖

Let me know which one you liked most this time!

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[practicalgauntlet]

τότε μείνε μαζί μου

"Then stay with me."

Spencer's POV

Synopsis- They say there are 5 stages of grief. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Well, I'd like to add one more- Revenge.

Category- Heavy angst, retribution

Warnings- feral Spencer, angry Spencer, grieving Spencer, beating someone half to death, blood and gore, thoughts of violence, actual violence, Spencer goes ape shit the way Hotch beat Foyet. Vivid details of someone's nose breaking, blood, lots and lots of blood, OOC, I paint a very graphic image of Spencer's snap.

Notes- I love writing angst, I don't know why I just hope you enjoy it. And I'll make good on my promise for something tooth-rottingly sweet, so don't get too angry with me <3 This goes out to @slipk-holy for helping me edit, you're the best!!!

Wordcount- 3,123

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Spencer sits in the middle of his apartment, his last words to your lifeless body still echoing throughout his otherwise empty mind.

"I'll wait for you my darling, you better be waiting for me on the other side."

Spencer was not a religious man. But when it came to you, he believed in miracles. He believed that someone out there plucked you from your divine path and placed you in his life. Spencer prayed to whoever had put you in his life to return you. He pleaded to hold you in his arms once more, but there was no answer.

He never believed in the afterlife. He thought of it as nothingness, a lack of consciousness where one ceases to exist on any plane. The idea of holding you, of seeing you once more clung to the fibers of his mind. It kept him from breaking entirely.

So maybe Spencer was a man of religion if only it meant you awaited him with open arms.

He hadn't moved in such a long time, his back aching from the upright and cross-legged position on his hardwood floors. Spencer lacked the motivation to crawl onto the couch or drag his body into the shower. He hadn't had the motivation to do anything really, other than replay the memories he held so dear to his heart.

But as he looked around his apartment, still teeming with the life you lived there, disdain rose up his throat like bile; burning a path through his body until he was boiling over with it.

Your most recent book was still open on the coffee table, the collection you brought with you still mixed with his on the massive bookshelf. Your slippers were still haphazardly strewn across the floor where you left them that morning, the echo of your halfhearted attempt to convince him to call in sick was still so fresh.

He felt something hot and putrid clawing its way out of him, singing every piece of skin and bone it touched on its way out. It was nasty, and vile, leaving a trail of change in its wake. Spencer could feel the mutation in his soul. He could feel the emptiness devour him whole, chewing on his bones for every last morsel he had to offer.

All that was left was a devastating rage. A fury that threatened the world around him. An indignation that promised singed handprints wherever he touched. A wrath so powerful he was no longer the man he was proud of. He was a stranger, an offensive mockery of what once was.

And the best part?

Spencer didn't care.

Spencer didn't care as he stood up and kicked the coffee table into the wall sending glass shattering all over the floor. He plucked the book out of the pile of carnage, not giving a shit about the splinters of glass embedded into his fingertips.

Spencer didn't care as he ripped the pages out of the book, hurling the empty hardback through the window. He watched with a sick satisfaction as the destruction sparkled around him.

Next was his bookshelf, the stories and words he'd share with you when the two of you couldn't sleep now flung across the room. The bookshelf was toppled, and not a care in the world was given as it crashed to the floor.

Spencer was a whirlwind of devastation, a tornado of obliteration so fierce there wasn't a corner nor cabinet that was untouched by rage.

Wherever you lingered, he destroyed. The chair you'd always sit at was slammed into the wall. The mug you favored was shattered against the floor. Every instance of your memory, of your ghost, was annihilated by his hand.

When he got to the bedroom, his chest heaving with firey vengeance, he paused.

Your side of the bed was still crinkled, the indention of your head imprinted on the pillow. Your Kindle was still charging on your nightstand. Your knickknacks and decorations still hung in every corner and on every shelf.

It was like you were just at the store and he should start dinner so it would be hot for when you got home. Like you were in the shower or on call. Anything but dead.

He couldn't tear apart the last remaining proof that you lived, that you had grasped his heart with your bare hands and allowed him the same privilege.

No, he couldn't bring himself to taint the preserved capsule of the life he shared with you with anger. Or sadness. Or the grief that left him raw and vulnerable. He couldn't even step one foot past the doorway.

He closed the door.

There was no use in even trying.

Before he could move on to the bathroom, the itch in his fist for more destruction too tempting for someone so usually non-violent, his phone rang somewhere in the apartment.

Spencer didn't feel like answering it or talking to someone about his wife and the chokehold her death has on him. He was perfectly content in watching his world crumble around him alone.

But it rang. And it rang. And it rang.

In a sudden burst of energy, Spencer marched right up to the source of the maddening noise. His mobile phone was neatly tucked into his satchel pocket, at fifty percent, just the way he left it after unceremoniously tossing the stupid fucking bag to the floor.

Spencer grabbed the phone in one hand and his heaviest lamp in the other. There was something so twisted about the relief that flooded him every time he brought the base of the lamp down on the phone.

His teammates would call it overkill if the phone was a person and the lamp was a knife. They would profile him as someone who was devolving, someone so close to snapping almost entirely that they had to act swiftly. In a way, he was. In a way, he was exactly like the monsters they hunted for the bloodlust that raged through him was for one thing only.

No amount of superficial destruction could keep his need for violence a bay. No, Spencer needed something organic to put his fists through. But for now, the insistent ringing of his phone has stopped, and he felt just a tad bit better.

Until his landline rang.

There was no breaking this phone, the technology old but surprisingly durable. So he only had one choice left if he were to save the last remaining shred of sanity he was clinging to.

"What the fuck is so important that you have to call me every six seconds?!"

He seethes, face hot with ire.

"Woah," J.J, breathes into the phone. "Calm down, Spence. I'm just calling to check up on you."

"Don't call me that."

"Sorry, Spen-. I'm sorry. I just needed to know you were okay."

Spencer was beyond annoyed, beyond aggravated. He could feel himself splitting at the seems with hatred and violence.

And Spencer didn't care if he was taking it out on his friend. Spencer stopped caring a long time ago.

"Oh, I'm fucking fantastic J.J. Just beaming with joy! It's not like my wife died not even twenty four hours ago. No, everything's happy unicorns and God damn rainbows."

J.J. just sighed.

"Spencer, I'm just trying to be there for you."

He could hear the desperation in her voice. But instead of comforting him like it should have, like it had done in the past, it irritated him even more.

"Sure, thanks."

Spencer was ready to hang up, ready to unplug the phone and toss it out of the broken window. But he heard something in the background, and his attention was once again drawn away from his agony.

It sounded as if someone were speaking to J.J., their tone urgent and dead serious. Spencer couldn't make out the words, but he could make out the importance of them.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing. We're just having some problems with an unsub."

He knew exactly who she was talking about, knew why she was purposefully vague with him. And the second it all clicked, the second a plan swiftly formed in his head, he was dead set on a path.

"Okay... just- stop calling me for a while."

He played into the grieving husband shtick, not letting a drop of indignation seep through his voice. Arousing suspicion would nip his brilliant plan in the bud, and Spencer just couldn't have that.

J.J. was hesitant to agree, with her being an amazing friend and all, but ultimately relented. Spencer just needed space is all, at least that's what she told herself.

Spencer gently sat the receiver down, an eerie calm settling over him. It was a rage he'd never felt before, one that guaranteed an end. A retribution.

Revenge.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

It was easy for Spencer to just walk into headquarters.

Too easy.

Maybe it was because of the pallor of his skin, or the dark bags that had become so much darker. Maybe it was even the shabby robe he still wore; his pajamas reeking of depression.

Either way, Spencer didn't linger for long. The faster he was in and out, the less suspicion he'd raise. The less suspicion he arose, the longer he'd have with his ultimate agenda.

It was calculated perfectly, executed just so. Swiftly enter the building, sadly waving to the guards all the while mumbling about friends, and help, and shoulders to cry on. Sympathy was so easy to wrangle, so easy to manipulate.

They let him in, their eyes downcast to avoid the miserable expression on his face. He should be upset at how easy it was to get in. There really should be more security. But then again, he didn't really care, did he?

He breezed passed the main office, passed the badge check, and into the elevator. Now would probably be the point where reality would hit. Was he really planning on interfering with an ongoing investigation, just to get answers he could deduce himself?

But none of that even registered as he watched the numbers slowly click up.

The lobby leading into the bullpen was empty, void of his friends or the others he knew only in passing. He was alone. The perfect environment to enable his downward spiral.

That collected calmness puppeteered him like a marionette, its hooked claws pulling the strings of his limbs towards the hallway that led to the interrogation rooms.

This is where he heard the commotion of the BAU in action. Hushed demands, muffled yelling, the occasional sigh of frustration. They hadn't noticed him yet, his socked feet concealing his footsteps.

He popped his head around the corner, watching as Hotch, Morgan, and Emily whisper to each other in front of the viewing window. J.J. and Rossi were sitting inside the room, their backs towards the window and their undivided attention upon Dimitri Cain.

Just the sight of the man had his blood boiling, his fingers twitching, and his throat closing around a violent burst of every emotion possible.

Anger- because his wife was dead and he was the man responsible.

Sadness- because he was reminded that he could never look upon the love of his life ever again.

Jealousy- because he wasn't the one in the room, demanding answers and getting them.

Joy- because he was closer to scratching that itch than he thought possible.

J.J. and Rossi exit the room, their faces grim and arms crossed with frustration. The five of them move away from the interrogation room.

"We need to form another plan,"

He heard Hotch say, his voice tight and stern.

The team agreed and left the door in the hands of a guard whilst they plotted. Now was the perfect time. He couldn't believe the luck he was having.

Maybe there was such a thing as the divine.

"You're not supposed to be here, Dr. Reid."

The guard said as Spencer approached.

"I was called in to help, you can ask Hotch but I doubt he'd enjoy being second-guessed."

"I just don't think-"

"Please..."

Spencer pleaded, and the tone he used was genuine this time. There was no manipulation nor tactic to persuade, only unadulterated desperation.

"I need something to do."

The words unsaid seemed to be as loud as those spoken, the guard's face falling with sympathy as he hesitated.

I need something to distract me.

Only a brief second did Spencer play with the idea of attacking the guard. He knew of all the pressure points to swiftly and quietly take him down; it wouldn't be hard to get what he needed.

But the guard stepped aside.

"Thank you."

The heavy door was opened.

Spencer stepped through, his body tingling with a blazing fire.

The door clicked shut.

He was alone with the object of his undoing. The breaker of his world. And there was nothing more dangerous than a desperate man with nothing to lose.

Spencer sat across from Dimirti, the man in question eyeing him with a speculating gaze.

"You're gettin' nothin' outta me."

Dimitri leaned back and blatantly challenged Spencer.

"I just have a few questions."

"Are you even a fuckin' fed? You look like shit."

Spencer unconsciously mimicked Dimirti's stance, staring the man down with an unbreaking mask of tranquil fury. He let his silence answer for him, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back in the chair.

"Alright, I see how it is."

"And how is it, Dimitri?"

"It's that reverse psychology shit, not gonna work on me."

Spencer just shook his head.

"Just ask me the stupid fuckin' questions already so I can get this shit over with."

Spencer hummed, clasping his hands in front of him and leaning forward on his elbows.

"Why did you take her?"

"Again with this bitch-"

"Watch your fucking mouth."

Eyes wide, Dimitri stilled. Then, realization glided across his face. A slow smile spread, tainting Spencer with its wickedness.

"You're the husband."

It wasn't a question but a mere statement.

You got what you want, I have a husband-

Please! I don't want to die!

Spencer pounced like a lion, toppling the table with Dimitri still cuffed to it. He was lost in the rage, mind, and body willingly subject to the agonizing fury that was slowly becoming a shield.

He couldn't hear anything, not a thought registered. Only the broken screams of his wife as she pleaded to live.

Spencer straddled Dimitri, completly in control as the man beneath him writhed.

Something sick and twisted bloomed inside him with the first punch. With the second, that evil forged a bond with his soul. Once pure and golden, Spencer Reid was now as dark as the blood that seeped from Dimitri's nose.

On the third punch, Spencer could feel the cartilage break. The splintering of his knuckles was nothing but an afterthought to the satisfaction and relief that plagued him.

Dimitri wiggled under him, trying with all his might to kick him off or slide his hands out of the cuffs. But Spencer kept going.

He brought his fist down again, Dimitri's face already swollen beyond recognition. The deep burgundy of Dimitri's blood sprayed across Spencer's face, across his chest, and outward into the air.

Unbeknownst to Spencer, he was giddy. His face stretched in a feral grin, every tooth shining with glee as he continued to pummel Dimitri into the stained marble floor.

Someone was screaming, the ragged and unfamiliar sound muffled like it was underwater. His ears were ringing, adrenaline and undiluted grief pushing everything Spencer ever was deep into an iron box and tossing it down the hole you left in his heart.

It wasn't until he was ripped from Dimirti, that he realized he was the one screaming.

"You killed her!"

Spencer thrashed against the strong body behind him, the grip under his arms unmoving despite his best efforts.

"You killed my wife!"

Feebly, Spencer tried to continue the beating, swinging his long legs towards the motionless body lying on the floor. Something wet hit his face, the sensation shocking his senses back into the present.

Derek was behind him, growling his name like Spencer was a rogue unsub who refused to listen.

He was dragged out of the room, his limbs now hanging numbly at his sides. Cold metal was wrapped around his wrists before anyone even tried talking to him.

Spencer welcomed the bite, savoring the only thing he could feel.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

Hotch was in his face, his eyes wide with frustration. The team was behind him, but Spencer didn't even spare them a glance. He just looked past Hotch, unseeing and unfeeling.

"Spencer!"

Finally, he dragged his emotionless gaze towards his boss who was frothing at the mouth with anger.

"I don't know."

"I don't know, I don't know? What do you mean, 'I don't know'? I should fire you!"

"Then do it."

What did he have to live for anyways?

A team that would only look at him with pity? A family that would treat him like he were made of glass, cracked and begging to be shattered.

Hotch huffed a sigh, hands on his hips.

"Listen, kid. I know exactly what you're going through. Vengeance isn't the answer."

"Says the man who did the same exact thing I just did. The only difference between you and me is that you got your retribution immediately."

Spencer hated the look of understanding that creased Hotch's brows, the empathy that threatened to undo all the apathy that was holding him together.

"This anger isn't going to bring her back..."

Spencer knew this. He knew nothing could bring you back. No amount of praying, religious devotion, and possible rituals would bring you back to him.

The simple truth was that he was lost without you.

He didn't know how to live without you by his side.

Something dripped onto his hands clasped in his lap. When he looked up and could see nothing but his swimming vision, he realized he was crying.

An unstoppable sob wracked his body, forcing his shoulders to cave in and his chest to implode. The damn was bursting, his walls cracking with each broken cry.

When he took a deep breath, a feeble attempt to control the crumbling mess that was his mental state, it all crashed around him.

His throat burned with the intensity of his scream. All his grief, all his anger, and sadness, and desolation were unleashed. He curled in on himself, hugging his sides as if he were able to replicate the feeling of your embrace.

The team surrounded him, hushed assurances, and murmured comfort as they all wrapped their arms around him. It still wasn't enough.

It still wasn't you.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

A/N- This was supposed to cure my writer's block, but it still has its claws in me. I keep comparing my writing and my stories to those I see on my feed and I only get discouraged. But comparison is the thief of joy, so please let me know if you enjoy this. Feedback is very much welcome in any form but I need to know if I'm doing something right.

[tangerineastronaut]

Can we get some fluff jongho takes care of reader on her period plsssss

soft 🐻 c.jongho

Let him take care of you. He insists.💕

Pairing: Jongho x Fem!Reader Genre: Fluff, Drabble, Texts + Written imagine Requested: Yes w.c. 780 Warnings: period cramps, reader is on her period, medicine (OTC pain meds) A/N: a jongho request? c'mere anon i'm gonna kiss you. I'm sorry this is short and sweet. I'd love more Jongho requests, I don't see enough content for our bear and I'd like to add to what we've got 😩 Anywho this hits home for me bc idk about y'all but my periods are HELL. I could definitely use a jongho 😭 This is my first time adding texts to a story, so I hope it's alright! Requests: Open (link below)

Requests | WIPs

Masterlists: BTS | ATEEZ | GOT7 | Stray Kids

You open one eye as someone knocks on your door, though quickly close it again as a swell of pain steals the air from your lungs. Your insides feel like mush, and everything below your belly button aches. 

You feel something soft on your face, and when you open your eyes again, you’re embarrassed and incredibly relieved at the same time to find Jongho running his knuckles down your cheek.

“Jongho?” you ask weakly. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you I was on my way, didn’t you see my last text?” he asks. You realize he’s crouched in front of the couch, where you collapsed an hour ago and haven’t moved since. You shake your head. 

“N-No, ‘m sorry.”

“It’s okay. What do you need?”

“A hysterectomy.”

“Funny. What else do you need? Have you taken anything?”

Jongho clicks his tongue as you shake your head. He leaves for a few moments, so you close your eyes again. But then you’re being urged to sit up, and your face crumples in pain. 

“Here,” he says, sliding onto the sofa beside you. You take the glass of water he’s holding, sipping it down as he drops something in the palm of your hand. Two tylenol; you take them, finishing off the water. 

“Why didn’t you take anything earlier?” he asks, lifting a hand to your cheek. His palm is warm and you lean into it. Your head hurts. Your face hurts. Your back, legs, stomach. All of you hurts. 

“I just kind of curled up to die,” you admit, looking up at him. “Didn’t wanna move.”

Jongho sighs and wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his firm chest. Your arms go around his neck as you bury yourself against him.

He’s soft and warm and smells so good; his cologne isn’t overwhelming, just a note of something that could only be described as “manly.” It's amazing how a person could make you feel safe with just a hug, but that was Jongho.

“What can I do for you, baby?” he asks, brushing hair away from your face. He presses a kiss to your temple, letting his lips rest there. You nuzzle your nose into his shoulder and inhale, making him chuckle.

“Nothing,” you mumble. “Just be here.”

You open your eyes, blinking and rubbing at them. You're a little groggy and confused, but feel something firm and warm behind you. You tilt your head back, and Jongho kisses you below your ear.

"Hi," he hums softly. You groan, feeling a little more human but mostly still mush.

His fingers twitch and your face flushes—his large hand covers the softness of your lower belly, thumb gently brushing your skin. You were holding his wrist, very obviously not wanting him to move even in your sleep.

“What time is it?” you ask. You finally release him and move your hand to your stomach, resting it over his—still hurts, though not nearly as bad as before. Could’ve been the medicine, but you suspected it had to do with a certain someone as well. 

You roll over so that you're facing him, squished together on your small couch. He doesn't seem to mind and wraps his arms securely around you, pulling you snug against his form.

“It’s close to 1 a.m., you haven’t been sleeping very long,” Jongho says, rubbing your arm. “How are you feeling? Need more medicine?”

You shake your head. 

“It’s better now,” you say with a shy smile. Jongho smiles back, so cutely that you have to lean forward and kiss him. You move your hands to either side of his face.

He sighs against your mouth and hugs you tight, pulling back just enough that your noses are still touching. 

“Wanna go to bed?” he asks, stealing another chaste kiss. He moves his hands down to your lower back, fingers firm yet gentle as he massages either side of your spine. You nearly melt with relief, moaning as you tuck yourself against him. 

“No. Don’t wanna move. Feels good,” you mumble. Jongho hums a laugh. You rest for a few seconds until he begins to sit up. You grab his hoodie for purchase until he stands, smoothly lifting you up bridal style and adjusting you in his arms. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and cling to him, pouting at the sudden disruption.

When you open your mouth to protest, he kisses you, using soft lips to steal whatever complaints you may have wanted to file.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to your cheek as he speaks. “Let's go to bed."

"Can you hold me?" you ask quietly. Jongho nods.

"Of course, baby. That's why I'm here."

[boybandbaby]

Secret (Evan Buckley x SingleMom!Reader)

word count: 1343

warnings/tags: nervous buck, 18+ mdni (mention of sex), as always please let me know if i missed anything

note: part of my single mom reader universe which can be found here

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Buck had noticed your change in demeanor from the first two dates. He thought things had been going well but he’s starting to second guess himself.

He starts to think that maybe he had worked up this idea that things with you could be end game. I mean it was only your third date and he was already thinking of engagement rings.

He had been scolded by each member of the team and his sister when he asked Chimney which ring shop he went to. They all told him to slow his roll and not to get ahead of himself. Though they were excited for him and his new situationship, they didn't want him to get too ahead of himself.

He wonders if maybe you had noticed that he was beginning to really have feelings for you. Maybe now you had found him creepy or too pushy or too needy. Was he texting you too much? Was he asking to see you too much? Had he made you uncomfortable and now you were trying to figure out how to break things off already?

Then he remembered a joking comment from Eddie on yesterday's shift. He had been discussing the movie you picked out for both of you to see and that he was really excited to spend more time with you.

"How long have you guys been seeing each other?" Eddie had asked.

"We've been talking for a little over a month but it's officially our third date." Buck replied, buttoning his shirt up.

"Ooh, third date? You know what that means." Eddie wiggled his eyebrows. Buck knew he said it to be funny but now Buck wonders if you maybe live by the ridiculous rule of sleeping together after the third date.

What if you’re expecting sex tonight? Or what if you’re freaking out about him wanting sex tonight? Or what if you don’t want sex with him at all, ever?

Buck can feel himself sweating through his shirt in the very well air conditioned movie theatre. He’s glad it’s somewhat dark or he’s sure you could see the sweat beads rolling off his forehead. He knows you very well may be able to see him as he can see your face clearly in the light from the screen.

You’re quieter today. Face bright under the movie lights with a small smile that has a hint of nervousness in it. The popcorn bowl is still quite full and candy boxes unopened despite both of you stating you loved movie snacks.

You spend the entire movie silent and rigid in your seats. Your hands found each others' the first two dates. The first time over the table at dinner and the second time on the car console on your way to the beach. Now, they lay in your lap and his on the arm rests. You're itching to hold his hand but you're just too nervous about the secret you're holding in.

Buck knows he has to confront you kindly after the movie about what’s going on and hopefully reassure you he’s not in this just for sex. So as you’re both finally leaving the theatre, the last ones, he goes to speak when you do first. “That was a good movie, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. I enjoyed it.” He smiles, hands in his pockets as you stand in the cold, face illuminated by the neon lights of the signs out front. Buck cannot remember who was even in the movie, let alone the plot. “Look, I wanted to talk to you about something…” he trails off.

“Oh? Um, yeah sure.” You look around and guide him to a near by metal bench. “Everything okay?”

Internally, you’re spiraling. You know you haven’t been acting normal tonight but you hoped that he would just ignore it. You’ve only known him for a few short weeks but you know parts of him by now. You know Buck has a habit of overthinking things so you’re sure he’s picked up on it. You’re wondering if somehow he knows your secret.

“I know it’s our third date and there’s this like third date rule that people follow. I just want you to know that I’m not expecting anything from you. I hope that’s not why you’ve been quiet all night. I know we’re still getting to know each other but I hope you know that I would never try to pressure you into doing something you weren’t comfortable with.” Buck rambles, hands flexing and squeezing on his thighs. He can feel sweat accumulating on his palms and he realizes he hasn’t even looked at your face since he started talking.

When he looks up, your eyes are slightly glossy and he’s not sure what he’s said to make you…upset?

“Y/n…”

“I have a daughter!” You blurt. When you search his face for any sort of information on how he’s feeling about this news, you’re met with furrowed brows, mouth slightly agape, and silence. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled it out like that. All night I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you. It’s the third date and yes I’m aware of the third date rule but I of course know you weren’t trying to sleep with me. I just figured the third date is either make or break and it was time for me to tell you about my daughter. You know, that way you can decide if you want to continue seeing me or get out before it goes any further.”

“What’s uhhhh, what’s her name?” He stutters.

“Her name is Evie. She just recently turned 7. Her father isn’t in the picture but that’s a story for another time.” You wave off. “What do you think? Or like how are you feeling about all this? I'm so sorry I haven't said anything up until now."

“It’s doesn’t change how I feel about you. I’m surprised, sure, but I know you probably kept it a secret for a reason. I can’t imagine it’s easy being a single parent and trying to date.”

“It’s not just that. I don’t want to bring someone around her until I know that it’s serious and it hardly gets to the serious state. I really like you but I was scared this would scare you away. I’m also scared that we’ll get in too deep and you’ll realize you don’t want to be with a woman who has a kid or that the other shoe will drop and you’ll be this horrible evil guy.” You finally grab his hand. "But I know you're not a bad guy."

“Just breathe.” Buck kisses your knuckles. “Breathe, babe. I totally understand where you’re coming from. We'll take this as slow as you want. Your daughter comes first and I want to be part of your life and eventually hers if you'll let me."

"You're seriously so sweet, Buck." You pull him in for a hug. "I don't want to force you to stay or make you feel like you have to be okay with this."

"You're not forcing me to do anything. I really really like you and I want to make this work. I'll be as involved as you'll let me and I'll be patient with you just like you are with me and my job." He rubs your back before kissing your forehead. "Please don't ever scare me like that again, though. I was freaking out the entire movie."

"I'm sorry! I was nervous!" You laugh. "I could barely pay attention to what was happening."

"I don't even remember what movie we were watching." He smiles. "You want to go for ice cream? Or do you have a curfew?"

"Shut up, I don't have a curfew." You push his shoulder. "I could go for ice cream, as long as you're buying."

"I think you should buy me ice cream since you had me on edge all night." He winks. "Come on, milfy."

"Evan!" Your eyes widen as he starts running to his car. "I can't believe you just said that!"

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[trippiexlove]

Heart of a Woman

Author Note: Based on the song Heart of A Woman by Summer Walker. Y'all chose it! I hope you enjoy. If you want to leave a song request for a one shot please comment on this post. Check out my master list for other one shots / stories.

Warning: Smut, Angst, P in V, Oral (f! receiving), Profanity, Praise, Toxic Relationship

Pairing: Zilla Fatu x Black OC

Word Count: 3,210

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Only thing that saving you...

Is a Heart of a Woman…

Indya leaned over the large island in the kitchen of the house she shared with her boyfriend of three years, Isayah. 

Pissed wasn't even the word. She was livid. 

Moments ago she received a random message from an unknown number. It was a message every woman dreads to get. 

A coming to you as a woman message. 

Normally she would ignore it, majority of the time it was just women trying to ruin their relationship. She knew how popular Isayah has become in the last year. His wrestling career really taking off this past year. She knew groupies came with this lifestyle. She had trusted him. But this was a constant cycle they went through. 

But this message was different. It had actual concrete proof. Pictures, screenshots and screen recordings of multiple messages and FaceTime calls.

She couldn't help but to feel the hurt and betrayal. Most of all she was more upset with herself. Knowing that this wasn't the first time, but continuously keep giving him second chances. 

She was so focused on the messages. Continuously scrolling through them, in denial, trying to find something that didn't make this true. The more she kept looking it the more she became upset. Indya was so focused on the messages until the familiar ringtone, signaling an incoming FaceTime from Isayah, came to her phone.  

When she answered the phone she could see he was outside somewhere. Seem like he was talking to someone beside before his focus turned to the phone. "What's up ma, you good?"

"I'm coo'" she was very short with him. Her attitude evident as he furrowed his brows together. She walked into the living room, propping the phone on the table before sitting on the couch. 

Isayah could sense her energy through the phone. "You sure? Yo' tone says otherwise" concern laced in his voice. 

"Who's Erica?" She didn't waste any time, crossing her arms waiting for an answer. 

Isayah scrunched up his eyebrow, a look of confusion on his face "What'chu talkin' about?"

She rolled her eyes before continuing to speak. "I won't ask again Isayah," she stated pointedly "who is Erica?"

He looked away briefly before looking down into the phone "I don't know what'chu talkin' bout Indy"

"So we're going down the route of acting like we're dumb" she nodded her head. She grabbed her phone off the table, going to the message thread. Once she pulled it up she sent all the messages and screen recordings to him. 

Isayah phone dinged from the other end. She watched his face as he read through the messages. He kissed his teeth, exiting out the thread. "Indya that's someone I used to deal with a long time ago. Haven't seen that girl in years"

"Do you really expect me to believe that?" Indya frowned. "You must take me as a dumb bitch if you think I'ma just let you sit here and lie to me when there's fucking proof!" she raised her voice. Getting more and more upset. 

"You just gon' believe her over what I'm tellin' you. I'm yo' man right?" Isayah voice rising with every word. 

"Are you my man though?" Indya lifted an eyebrow. She stared right back at him as he shot dagger through the screen. 

"Indya, stop fuckin' playin' with me. I told you I ain't seen that girl in years, the fuck you trippin' for?" Indya was token back from his words, before nodding her head.

"You know what since you wanna play dumb, I'll act fucking stupid. Go be with that bitch and stay the fuck away from me. You're single, fuck you!" Indya hung up before he could get another word in. She threw her phone down, before placing her head in her hands. She felt the tears that have been threatening to fall for a while. The constant ringing of her phone, as Isayah kept calling and texting, sounded throughout the living room. 

After a while, she wiped her eyes before grabbing her phone and blocking his number. Heading upstairs to sleep the night off. 

[Few Days Later]

Indya was out on a girl's day with her best friends, Sabrina and Tara. They got her out the house to take her mind off the fight she had a few days ago with Isayah. Refusing to let their friend to wallow in her feelings. 

They spent the day shopping, getting their nails done, and were currently at their favorite restaurant to have lunch. 

After placing their order with their server, Sabrina looked over at Indya. "We've been avoiding this conversation all day, but I think it's time to address it" Tara nodded knowing what Sabrina was getting into. "How are you feeling Indy?"

Indya sighed, throwing her head back slightly "I think I am just more mad at myself for continuing to keep taking him back."

"You can't be upset with yourself about that," Tara grabbed Indya's hand "It is not your fault that he can't grow up and see what an amazing woman he has and to treat you accordingly"

Sabrina nodded in agreement before adding in her two cents "You have been nothing but great towards him and will literally drop everything just to make sure he's ok. We all make mistakes but it's just how we learn from it"

Indya nodded. Taking in her best friends words. "It's just so hard because I really do love him." she sniffled a bit, wiping the tear that fell. 

"We understand girl," Tara sympathize with her best friend "but sometimes love isn't worth the hurt he's causing you" 

"What do you plan on doing now?" Sabrina asked as she leaned back in her chair. 

Indya sat in silence for a moment, she knew what she had to do. The decision didn't come so lightly "I'm done and forreal this time. I can't keep doing this"

"We your girls, we love you and will support you" Sabrina smiled grabbing her other hand. Tara nodding in agreement.

Indya blinked back more tears smiling at both her best friends. Truly appreciative of them. "Thanks I love y'all"

Soon the server brought over their food and the conversation shifted to something lighter. For the first time in a last few days Indya felt a weight lifted off her shoulders. Forgetting about the drama and enjoying the rest of the time with her best friends.

They paid the bill once they were done. Hopping into Sabrina's car, she started heading towards Indya's house. When the pulled up Indya sighed when she noticed Isayah's car in the driveway. 

He was back after being gone for a week due to having shows and appearances. Sabrina looked over at Indya, a certain look in her eye. "Do you need us to come in with you?"

Indya shook her head as she grabbed her keys out her purse "It's fine"

"You sure?" Tara leaned up from the front seat "We can just go in and beat his ass real quick and get your stuff"

Indya softly laughed at her friends "I promise I'll be fine. I'll text y'all"

"Ok," Sabrina said unsure "you better text us"

Indya promised she would text them as she got out, Tara taking her place in the passenger seat. She waved bye to them before walking up to the front door. She blew out a breathe before unlocking the door going inside. 

When she walked in Isayah was standing in the middle of the living room. She turned to the door locking it. 

"Where you been?" Isayah questioned, watching her every movement. Indya ignored him, throwing her keys in the bowl by the door. Walking right by him. He furrowed his eye brow as he watched her walk towards the stairs.

With quick movements he grabbed upper arm, making her turn towards him. "You hear me talkin' to you" 

"Unless you're here to admit to what the fuck you did, we don't have shit to talk about" she tried ripping her arm away from him. This caused him to grip tighter. 

"I keep telling' yo' ass that ain't shit happen between me and that girl" His frown deepened looking her dead in the eyes. 

"She literally sent me screenshots of y'all messages!" Indya felt her temper slowly increase the longer he held her arm. She was beginning to become frustrated.

"Her ass could've faked those messages and yo' goofy ass sitting here believin' them!" He raised his voice slightly. 

Indya widen her eyes in shock. In disbelief of what he said. She pushed on his chest, finally releasing herself from his grip. "Explain the pictures and videos of y'all on FaceTime then Isayah! Do you think I'm dumb?!"

"Indya tread lightly on how you speakin' to me. This is your warnin'" He squinted his eyes her direction. This only fueled the petty side of her. No longer caring how she was making him feel. 

"I don't give a fuck, you ain't scaring shit over here. You can go be with that bitch and y'all both can be hoes together!" She turned to go up the stairs, but before she could, she was pulled back. 

Isayah wrapped a hand around the based of her throat, pulled her close which made her look up his towering frame. She slightly shuddered at the the look in his eyes. His eyes going completely dark, a mix of anger and lust lingering inside them.

"I done let'chu get fly at the mouth one too many times. Now it's time for you to listen to me" Indya was getting upset with herself for just how quick she submits to him. Knowing that this was the issue in the ever ending cycle of their relationship. 

First their good, then she catches him cheating, he uses his manipulative ways, he dicks her down and then the cycle starts over. 

He could see the wheels turning in her head. Knowing she was going to try to resist he quickly scooped her up, making his way up the stairs to their shared room. 

He plopped her on the bed, hovering over her. Placing both hands on the sides of her head. He leaned down placing kisses along her neck and behind her ear. 

Indya didn't want to fall into the same old pattern again. She took her hands, pushing against his chest. "Isayah we can-" her breathe hitched as he sucked on the spot right below her ear. 

Surely leaving a mark, he took one of his hands trialing down her sides til he reached the hem of the shorts she was wearing. His hands found their way in, brushing against her wet folds. 

Indya softly moaned, arching more into his touch. He entered one finger in her, groaning at how wet and tight she was. He leaned up to look her in the eyes, entering another finger. Indya moaning out as he quickened his movements. 

"What were you sayin' baby?" Indya couldn't make up any coherent sentences, as her core tightened. "You want me to stop?" When he didn't get a response he slowed down "Do you want me to stop?" his voice deepened. Indya eyes popped open looking at him.

She whined as she moved her hips, desperate for any type of friction. Isayah took his other hand, placing them on her hips to still her movements. "No I don't want you to stop" completely submitting to him.

Satisfied with her answer he pulled her shorts and underwear off, leaving her lower half completely bare. He removed his shirt, throwing it across the room.

He left wet kisses trailing down her chest and stomach til he was leveled with her intimate area. 

He skipped all the teasing, quickly latching on to her sensitive bundle on nerves, switching from flicking his tongue across it and slightly sucking on it. His fingers entered her once more. 

Indya loudly moaned at the double stimulation. She grabbed at the sheets on the bed, trying to ground herself. "F-fuck Isayah .. I'm cumming" 

Isayah sped up the strokes of his fingers. Hitting her spot continuously, Indya reaching her climax soon afterwards. 

Isayah sat up, cupping her chin with his hands "open up for me baby" Indya stuck out her tongue, knowing exactly what he wanted. He stuck his fingers in her mouth, letting her lick off all her juices off his fingers. Once she was done he brought her into a searing kiss, tasting her sweet essence. 

He pulled away looking her deep in her eyes. "Face down. Ass up. You better arch how I like it"  he stated in a commanding tone.

Indya wasted time doing exactly what he said. Arching her back just how he liked. Isayah let out a groan of approval, sending a smack to her backside. 

As Indya waiting in anticipation, she heard the soft sound of a zipper, as Isayah shredded the last bit of clothing, coming up right behind her. She felt Isayah glide the tip between her wet folds. 

He slowly pushed in, Indya moaning out as he stretched her out. He stilled for few moments to allow her time to adjust. "Fuck, you're so tight for me ma" 

Craving more, Indya moved her hips back. Isayah taking it as a sign, picking up his rhythm quickly. Indya screamed out as he practically fucked her into the bed. 

She brought her back against his abdomen, trying to slow him down. He quickly grabbed her wrist, pinning it against her back. "Ain't no running. You been talkin' yo' shit, talk it now" 

Indya couldn't think, her brain clouded by the immense pleasure he was giving her. 

"I-Isayah I can't!" she moaned out loud. Feeling that familiar burn in the pit of her stomach. 

"Shut the fuck up and take it. This what'chu wanted right" Indya moaned loudly, Isayah groaned as he felt her clench around his length. He knew she was getting close and stopped all movements causing Indya to whimper. "You don't get to cum til I tell you to"

Isayah grabbed her other arm, holding both in one hand. He rammed back into her, causing Indya to gasp loudly. Isayah's strokes were relentless. 

The only sounds throughout the room were their skin slapping together, "Fuck, look at'chu takin' it for daddy so well" He sent a smack to her backside, Indya moaning at the stinging sensation. 

"Baby I can't hold it," she let out a breathy moan, her climax being so close "I need to cum please" she begged desperately. 

Once again Isayah stopped his strokes abruptly, pulling out of her. He laid down, pulling her on top of him. "You want yo' nut, you gotta earn it" 

Indya straddled his waist, reaching back grabbing a whole of his length. She slowly slid down, both groaning at the contact. He took a hold of her hips, bringing her down more, engulfing all of him.  "S-shit"

Indya placed one hand on his chest as she slowly went up and down. She moaned at the new angle she was in. Isayah hitting a new spot. Indya threw her head back as she picked up the pace. 

"Who pussy is it" Isayah wrapped his hand around her throat "hmm, tell daddy who pussy this is"

Indya gasped, feeling that burn in the stomach "Fuck daddy it's yours"

She rotated her hips, earning a deep guttural groan from Isayah. "Fuck, you ain't leaving' me." He moaned out again, feeling his release brewing "Damn, you feel so good baby keep it right there." 

She smiled inwardly. Feeling a little motivated sped up her movement, the grip he had on her hips tightened. "Isayah I'm cumming" she whined out. 

Isayah felt her movements slow down, he sent another smack to her backside causing her to whimper. "Keep goin' and you better not fuckin' stop, daddy cummin' wit'chu" 

With his hands wrapped around her waist he assisted by moving her faster up and down. Indya let out a drawn out moan as she released.

Her released triggering Isayah's own, pulling her into a searing kiss as they both came down from their euphoric high. 

Indya woke up, feeling extremely groggy and sore from the events earlier. She groaned as she turned over, seeing Isayah still sleep. She heart feeling heavy, remembering everything that happened. 

She reached for her phone seeing she had multiple missed calls and messages from Sabrina and Tara. 

Bri🔥: Indya are you good? Bri🔥: I swear if something happened I will sliced tf out of that big ass Samoan idc Tara❤️: Girl you need to call us back. Tara❤️: Bri is going crazy over here. You better call soon or we're pulling up.

Indya quickly texted them both back, telling them that she was ok and that she would explain in a little bit. She noticed it was a quarter after midnight. She quickly but quietly got up, throwing her clothes from earlier back on. 

When she looked back at Isayah, she felt rage start to build inside of her. Many thoughts were going through her mind. Then an idea clicked. She acted quickly, going into the closet and started grabbing his clothes. 

She moved quietly, not wanting to wake him up. She walked outside going over to Isayah's Mercedes, stuffing the clothes in there. She repeated this process about 3 more times. She grabbed the keys, backing the car away from the house. 

She went back inside grabbing the bags she had already packed, putting them in her car. Turning towards Isaiah's car once more, she took a lighter out of her pocket, flicking it on. 

She hovered the flame over a piece of clothing til it caught the flame. Quickly spreading to other article of clothing. 

Indya stood there for a moment, staring at the flame. Feeling it burn away all the hurt Isayah has cause her, feeling a sense of calm. She was quickly token out of her trance when she heard noise come from the house. Knowing it was Isayah coming, she quickly got in her car, starting it. 

When she started backing up she saw him run out the house with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. 

He saw his car in-flamed, his eyes widening in shock and rage "Indya what the fuck?!"

"Have fun with that bitch!" She quickly pulled off as he tried running towards the car. 

Indya couldn't help but laugh but also cry as she felt the overwhelming feeling of freedom and her shoulders feeling lighter. 

She didn't know how she did it but she found herself pulling in to Sabrina's house. Grabbing her things, she walked up the short walk way, knocking on the door. 

The wait wasn't long, as Sabrina quickly opened up the door, staring at her friend. Eyes drifting to the bags beside her. Without saying a word she grabbed a bag, leading Indya in the house and to the guest bedroom. 

She turned towards Indya, stood in the middle of the room. Silently crying. She brought her into hug as Indya began sobbing on her shoulder. 

"I am here for you. I am so proud of you, finally choosing yourself" She let her cry on her shoulder for a while til she stopped. She pulled out the hug, wiping her friend's tears. "Get some sleep and we'll talk in the morning" leaving the room. 

Indya sighed, going into one of the bags, changing into a pajama set. She crawled in the bed, engulfing herself with the pillows and blankets, sleep finding her quickly. 

[001x456]

any 457 fic recs?

In-ho x Gi-hun fic recs

credits to the respective authors! ♡

*some of them are wholesome fluff, but some may contain topics that can be triggering, taboo and considered “dark theme” in nature; so after tapping the links, make sure you read the tags first (actually, since I'm a sucker for whump, spicy and fucked up stuff, most of them are 'dead dove do not eat', so be warned)

Overthrown

Seong Gi-hun isn't the only enemy the Front Man has. It takes him too long to realize that.  Or, Front Man's right hand man, the Officer, with the help of the Soldiers, plans to take him down. And In-ho has been too blind to see the betrayal coming.  (Ironic enough, it turns out the one who's too trusting isn't Gi-hun.)

Obedience and Oblivion (NSFW)

Dragged back into the shadows of the games, Gi-hun finds himself bound not just by chains but by the quiet, unnerving pull of the man who holds him captive. The Front Man offers him comfort wrapped in control, tenderness laced with possession. As lines blur between survival and submission, freedom and desire, Gi-hun must decide: will he rise above, or let himself fall deeper into the arms of the enemy?

and I found love where it wasn't supposed to be, right in front of me

"Young-il was a good person. He was my friend. And you killed him because all he wanted was to save his family."

"Gi-hun —" In-ho quickly stopped and shut his mouth when he realized he was letting it slip. He's Player 456 to you now, and you're not Young-il anymore, warned the voices in his head.

You're the Front Man and he's Player 456. Young-il and Gi-hun are no more. And that ache, the sudden surge of pain in In-ho's chest, In-ho could never seem to understand.

all I worship and adore (NSFW)

After the tenth year anniversary of his wife's death, In-ho decided it was time for him to feel something else that wasn't grief. He found himself in a shady brothel with a companion of an overly friendly, overly awkward sex worker named Seong Gi-hun. (It's fine, right? It's merely physical pleasure and nothing more. This does not mean you're betraying her, it does not mean you're moving on, or so In-ho told himself.)

loving you is a losing game

Gasping and gurgling and choking on his own blood, In-ho's eyes remain fixated on Gi-hun and Jun-ho.

Mister Right

“Hwang Inho,” His assailant introduced stiffly and rattled off a lengthy sequence of numbers. “Eh?” They’d given Gihun something for the pain and it was making him a little dizzy. “My name and badge number,” The man said, his jaw clenched tight as he advised, “you should lodge a formal complaint to the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency when you are able to walk, sir.” “Oh…ok.” “Did you remember what I just said?” Gihun’s head lolled. He blinked groggily at the figure dressed in all black. “Are you my nurse? This needle in my arm hurts. Could you blow on it?” The man didn’t move. “Please?” He whined, blinking back tears.

One Way Ticket (NSFW)

Gi-hun arrives in a foreign land brimming with hope and dreams of starting a new life with the woman he’s convinced is his soulmate. But when things start to unravel, and the truth of his situation becomes painfully clear, he finds himself at the mercy of a stranger—Hwang In-ho, a man who sees opportunity in Gi-hun’s desperation.

Final Game

In which In-ho tries running away from his own self, his guilt, doubt and feelings. (Gi-hun is handcuffed to a bed, yet In-ho finds himself the one in chains, unable to run away.)

Material Girl

“I’m not a prostitute,” The man sitting in the small plastic chair opposite Junho’s work desk repeated. Junho glanced up from the arrest form he was filling out on his computer and studied him. Seong Gihun, age forty-three, resident of Ssangmun-dong. The system showed his only living relative to be his elderly mother. There were numerous citations on file for money issues mostly, but no prostitution. Oh, and today was his birthday. “Officer,” the man said, wringing his hands like an old woman and rocking in his seat, “I swear.” Junho took his fingers off the keyboard and crossed them over his desk. “Ajusshi, I have you on video without your pants in a popular love hotel.”

dead (for a little while) (NSFW)

Gi-hun loses the next game.

Strangely, they don't kill him.

like a good, good dog (NSFW)

"Come on," Thanos — Player 230 — said, "I see the way you look at him and the way he looks at you. A blind person could see you've been yearning for each other. Don't look at me like that, I'm just doing you both a favor here."

"What did you just say?" Gi-hun asked.

"You heard me. Fuck 001. Or die."

In a Truth or Dare game, Gi-hun landed himself with the most absurd dare. In-ho realized the price of his undercover mission may be higher than he thought when he was getting fucked at his own game. Figuratively and literally.

Alternative Universe where no one gets hurt.

Forgotten Vows (NSFW)

Gi-Hun wakes up with a wedding ring on his finger.

Dirty Business (NSFW)

Gi-hun sucks In-ho’s dick while he watches the chaos unfold.

Facilitated Karma

VIPs kind of get whatever they want, here- so when one of them orders to have Gi-hun for a night, In-ho has to comply.

Gi-hun doesn't get the memo.

All Your Pieces (NSFW)

After the failed rebellion, he dissociates on the Frontman's floor.

pick up your stitches (better than your riches) (NSFW)

Gi-hun just looks at him in silence for a moment, studying his frame intently. “How do you live with yourself?"

“I don’t know.”

When he leans in, it’s slow and deliberate. It’s like he’s showing his hands. Begging Gi-hun to squint and pretend they’re clean.

“You can tell me no,” he reminds him. Miraculously, Gi-hun just nods.

Or: Gi-hun and the Frontman meet after the games are through.

wrap my name across your mouth when i let my feelings down (NSFW)

“You haven’t eaten all day,” In-ho reminds him, a note of desperation in his voice. “Let me feed you, Gi-hun.”

Gi-hun’s eyes are unfocused and bloodshot, he notices. There are dark circles underneath them. In-ho chastises himself for not considering the fact that his companion might be sleep deprived.

“Uh, yeah,” Gi-hun awkwardly rubs at his neck with his right hand. “I could eat.”

in the flow of things

“That’s my fish,” Inho snaps, taking a step closer. His voice echoes through the narrow space, sharp with rage. The man chuckles softly. “I mean… define 'your' fish.” Inho blinks, momentarily stunned by the audacity. “Are you serious? You stole it. You've been stealing my fish.” “Borrowing,” the man corrects, raising his finger. “Relocating is the better word, actually. You keep buying more anyway, so I figured-” “Relocating? Are you serious right now?” Inho's voice rises, disbelief flooding his system. He stalks closer, fists clenched. “You’ve been breaking into my apartment and stealing my fish like it’s some kind of hobby?”

or Five times Inho came home to an empty fishbowl, and the one time he finally caught the culprit.

let's drift away in fits of pleasure (NSFW)

Fronting a secret killing game while also taking place in said game was difficult as expected, but the most unexpected inconvenience was that of sneaking out every night to return to In-ho's office. He resorted to excusing himself to the bathroom for long hours during lights out and hoping the others didn’t bother to ask in the haze of their exhaustion.

It was Gi-hun that pushed the boundaries, as he should have learned to expect these days.

Nightmares

Chapter 1: Gihun gets a nightmare and I Inho takes care of him Chapter 2: Inho gets a nightmare and trys to hide it from Gihun because he thinks he deserves to get them

TO YOUR SWEET NOTHING

"You’re up early,” came the dry, familiar voice of In-ho beside Gi-hun. “Early?” Gi-hun snorted, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. “It’s almost nine. You call that early?” In-ho grunted, shifting slightly but making no move to get up. “It is when you’ve spent years sleeping with one eye open,” he murmured, his voice muffled by the pillow.

Or, a soft lazy morning between Inho and Gihun

Would You Still Love Me?

In-ho turned back to his microscope, clearly done with the conversation, but his lips twitched into a smile. “Speaking of worms…” “Oh, please no,” Gi-hun groaned. Nothing sane or understandable ever followed that phrase. “Would you still love me if I were a worm?” “Why are you even asking this?” Gi-hun demanded. “Do you plan on turning into a worm?” His eyes widened in mock horror. “Oh my god, did you sign up for some kind of freaky experiment?”

Or, "Would you still love me if I was a worm?" fic featuring Gi-hun and In-ho!

[wedriftlikelonelyplanets]

Hello :) thank you so much for writing these propmts! I would like to request number 8 with landoscar (i dont know if this is allowed or not so please feel free to ignore this but i would love if it was about Oscars broken rib. However i will totally appreciate everything you write!!)

of course you're allowed to ask!!!! i'm pretty chill about trying to make requests fit the request! unless it's something i'm absolutely weirded out by. so no worries there.

from this prompt list here, number 8: "are you hurt"

Apologies again, this isn't really angst despite the "angsty prompt list" i'm apparently only capable of writing SOFT

It's hard to breathe, when he gets out of the car, can't stop himself from letting out a long, hissing breath as he frees himself. He sees the team waiting for him already as he climbs out, bated breath and broad grins. It feels good, knowing they're waiting for him, but he has to prepare himself.

He's already overstimulated from the pain, knows he's going to have to talk to Kim about it, but it's not like they have infinite amounts of time between Austria and Silverstone. He's probably just going to have to put his head down and grin through it. After all, it's what he's good at anyways. He hugs them, allows for pats on the back, gritting his molars together as sparks burst behind his eyelids. He just needs to make it through the podium, and then he can lie flat on his back in his driver's room and breathe through it.

Pop some extra strength ibuprofen and hope it's enough. Wonders if it's a pulled muscle, a pressure injury, even. He hopes that it's an easy fix, because he can't imagine sitting any part of this season out. Not with their car being a rocket ship. Not with the team where they are in the standings.

The podium celebration happens in a blur, leans himself into Carlos a little too heavily when his vision goes a little blurry from the pain of keeping himself completely upright. Knows his face probably looks deathly pale, but hopes no one else notices. He's relatively unscathed, when he makes it off the podium.

He's still got media left to do, still has the post race press conference, and the longer time stretches, the more exhausting it feels. The more energy it requires. It all passes in a blur, he can't remember the answers that spill out of his mouth to the questions he's asked. Knows that George and Carlos can probably tell that something's wrong, but they're probably not about to ask them what. Especially not George, riding the high of his victory.

When it's all over, he stumbles back to his driver's room, catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, cheeks flushed, eyes fever bright, he doesn't know why anyone didn't stop him.

It's slow-going to get his fireproofs off, every movement sending a sharp pain through his side, exacerbated by every breath he takes. He's only got them stripped to the waist when there's a knock on the door.

He opens it, and his mouth opens, and then closes, before he steps out of the way, wordlessly. Letting Lando barrel past him and flop down dramatically on the massage table in the middle of the room. It was a shit race for Lando, and Oscar knows he has to be fuming. He's just not sure he has the energy for it right now, doesn't have the energy to listen to Lando bitch about Max. All he wants to do is put something comfortable on, crawl into a car, and then crawl into his hotel bed, and sleep until morning before they have to repeat the week all over again, but at Silverstone instead.

"You alright?" he asks, trying to muffle the gasp of pain that escapes as he bends over to finish pushing off his fireproofs. But Lando doesn't answer, and when Oscar looks up, Lando's looking at him, eyes laser focused, lips downturned.

"Are you hurt?" the question comes out forceful, almost accusatory, and Oscar nods, a short, sharp jerk of his head.

Lando pushes himself up into a sitting position, looks at him, head tilted. "You told Kim yet?" he asks, and Oscar's reminded of a dog, waiting for a bone. "Haven't had the chance, have I, mate?" he says, sharply, turning his back on Lando, forgoing peeling the rest of his suit off to pull off his fireproofs instead.

Lets Lando see the long, naked line of his back in hopes that it'll be enough of a distraction, as he pulls on a t-shirt, zips on a hoodie over it. He still has to change his bottoms, get himself out of the fireproof leggings and the rest of his suit, but the idea of it is exhausting. He wants to flop down onto the massage table like Lando did, and cease to exist for just a little while.

"How bad?" Lando's still on the topic, and Oscar wants to tell him to let it go. "Mind yours," he hisses through his teeth, as he runs a hand through his hair, moves towards his backpack, where he knows he has a stash of ibuprofen stored. Lando grabs his wrist as he walks by, and Oscar allows himself to be reeled in, until he's standing between Lando's spread legs, so close their noses are practically touching.

"How bad, Oscar?" Lando asks again, and Oscar swallows heavily, the click of his throat loud in the quiet of his driver's room. Darts his gaze to Lando's blue-green eyes, and then away again, unable to hold the intensity of his gaze.

"Hurts to breathe," he mutters, and Lando nods, brushes his thumb reassuringly over the slope of Oscar's wrist, before leaning in to press a kiss to his lips, soft and chaste.

"I'm getting Kim," Lando says, finality in his tone. And then he's hopping off the table and making a beeline for the door, turning back for one second to look at Oscar, eyes burning through him with their intensity.

"Stay," it's a command, if he's ever heard one.

[bunji-enthusiast]

(𝐃𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲) 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐈𝐭

Characters [Kissy Missy, Huggy Wuggy, Doey The Doughman]

Note || request: idk if you're taking requests but can you possibly do small fic of kissy, huggy, and doey getting affection for the first time by y/n / the player? Platonic head kisses, hugs, that sort of thing.

Why, yes my good fellow fan. I actually loved this, omfg.

— Doey The Doughman

As an ex-employee of Playtime Co., you couldn’t shake the weight of your past. The haunting memories of the factory lingered in the back of your mind, yet there was something much deeper pressing at your heart. You had seen so much suffering over the years, and now, among the few survivors in this grim new world, you couldn't help but notice the vulnerable ones. Doey, especially.

The plump dough creature had been a beacon of hope for so many, but behind that friendly, playful demeanor, you recognized a burden. He held his group together, sacrificed his time, energy, and emotional well-being for those under his care in The Safe Haven. Even when it wasn’t necessary, he put on a brave face, especially with the overwhelming responsibility of leadership. You could see it in his eyes, that exhaustion. You suspected that he had once been a child under that appearance, his innocence hidden beneath layers of experience far beyond what a creature like him should bear.

For someone like Doey, affection was something foreign, something he rarely got, especially in such a harsh environment. Leadership had made him strong, but at the cost of his own peace. That was something only an empathetic soul like you could truly understand. You knew, deep down, that he needed care and compassion as much as anyone else. And though it was strictly platonic, affection might be the very thing that could allow him to heal — to feel like something more than the leader of a group of survivors.

One evening, after a long day of coordinating plans, you approached Doey in the quiet of the Safe Haven. He was sitting on a makeshift bench near the fire, his long, colorful arms resting at his sides, and his eyes fixed on the dim glow. His yellow, orange, and red dough belly pattern of three bendy arms seemed to ripple with the firelight.

You could see that he was tired, maybe even a little lonely, his mouth set in a soft frown. Without thinking, you moved closer, and a gentle but firm hand rested on his shoulder. He blinked, startled at first, before his eyes softened.

"Doey," you began softly, your voice uncharacteristically tender. "You’ve done so much for everyone. But you’ve been carrying this weight alone for too long."

He didn’t respond immediately, his hollow eyes looking at you through the holes in his doughy face. But there was a subtle shift, a small recognition that the burden he carried wasn’t unnoticed. You could feel the tension in him as if he was silently giving himself permission to let down his guard, just for a moment.

You kneeled beside him, reaching up to gently pat his head, careful not to be too forceful. The blue clay of his doughy scalp was soft, cool to the touch. He blinked again, this time with a hint of surprise, but you continued, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head, a silent promise of care. The warmth you felt in the moment was something you hadn’t realized you needed, and perhaps, neither had he.

As you leaned back, Doey’s long orange arm slowly lifted, hesitating before it rested on your shoulder in return. You could tell he was processing the moment, unsure of how to respond, but you knew it wasn’t the kind of affection he was used to. He was a leader, after all — strong, unyielding, and often alone in his role.

But here, in the dimly lit corner of The Safe Haven, there was a quiet kind of peace. You could see the tension in his body gradually melt away. He needed this. He deserved this. After all, even the strongest of leaders were human, even if their form was a strange, colorful dough creature.

"Thank you," you murmured. "You don't have to carry it all on your own, Doey. We're all in this together."

For a moment, Doey said nothing, but the subtle shift in his expression spoke volumes. His holes, the makeshift eyes, softened as if a weight had lifted. And then, in a rare and tender gesture, he leaned toward you, wrapping his long yellow arm around your shoulder in a gentle embrace.

The warmth of his body, though made of dough, felt oddly reassuring. The hug wasn't tight or demanding, but it was everything he needed — a small, quiet moment of affection and support. It wasn’t about leadership, or strength, or the mission. It was simply about being there for each other.

You could feel his breath — or perhaps it was the absence of it — as he pulled away just slightly, his eyes meeting yours. "You're right," he finally said in his soft, humble voice. "I... I haven't been good at asking for help."

You smiled, giving him a reassuring pat on the back. “You don’t have to ask. Sometimes, it’s okay to just let others help you."

As the fire crackled in the background, you stayed close by Doey’s side, offering him the rarest of gifts — a moment of respite, of care. Just for tonight, he didn’t need to be a leader, a beacon of hope, or the one who carried the weight of so many. He could simply be Doey — the dough creature who deserved love, affection, and the safety of knowing someone had his back.

And for you, it was a reminder that even in the darkest of places, sometimes the best thing we can offer one another is warmth, care, and affection — the simple things that make us human, or in Doey’s case, something more than just an animated being. Something deserving of a gentle hug and a soft kiss on the head.

— Huggy Wuggy

It had been a long time since you had last seen Huggy Wuggy. The factory, now eerie and abandoned, had its haunting air, but there was something... different about it now. The silence that permeated the air had always felt oppressive, but as you ventured deeper, a strange sense of sadness washed over you.

The towering blue creature loomed before you in the dimly lit corridor. Huggy Wuggy stood there, as if waiting. His large black eyes stared at you, reflecting the remnants of something broken, something lost. His tall, slender frame seemed so out of place in the sterile halls of the factory, but it wasn’t his presence that made you pause—it was the unmistakable loneliness that seemed to emanate from him.

The thought had crossed your mind many times, especially after the encounters you had witnessed between him and others in this factory. Huggy Wuggy had been part of a long-lost project, a toy designed to spread love and affection, but something had gone horribly wrong. The violence he once displayed, the frenzy he brought upon anyone unlucky enough to cross his path, wasn’t his doing. It was the Prototype, manipulating him, turning his purpose of affection into something much darker.

You had made a decision—one that surprised even yourself.

The truce, strange as it was, had to mean something. The creature before you had been twisted by forces far beyond his control, but there was still a trace of the original Huggy inside. You didn’t want him to be just another victim of whatever twisted fate had led him down this path.

“Hey, Huggy,” you spoke softly, your voice breaking the quiet tension of the room. Huggy’s head tilted slightly, as if trying to understand what you were doing here.

You took a cautious step forward, your heart racing slightly. You had no idea how he would react. He had been hostile before—ferocious, even. But this time felt different. There was a hesitation in his movements, a kind of vulnerability that hadn’t been there before. Perhaps, after everything that had transpired, Huggy had found the small, flickering ember of his former self.

You slowly raised your hand, offering him an open gesture—an invitation. Huggy’s large yellow hands twitched, the velcro straps on his palms shifting as he examined your hand cautiously. His face, though monstrous and alien, held a certain curiosity now, as if unsure whether to accept or reject the kindness you were offering.

Gently, you stepped closer, placing your hand on his outstretched arm. It felt surprisingly warm, almost organic. Huggy froze, and you could feel his body tense as if ready to pull away. But you didn’t back down.

In a move that could have been considered a gesture of trust, you leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on the top of his head. It was a simple act—one that might have seemed odd to anyone else, but it was something that felt right in that moment. Huggy, the once terrifying creature, stood still, unsure of how to process the affection.

After a long pause, something shifted within him. He let out a low hum, almost as if responding to the touch. His large black eyes blinked slowly, as if digesting the sensation, and for a brief second, it felt as if time had stopped. The hostility that had once radiated from him seemed to fade, replaced by something almost... grateful.

You pulled back slightly, watching as Huggy lowered his head, almost as if in acknowledgment. It wasn’t much—just a small sign that the creature, so often feared and misunderstood, had been longing for the kind of kindness he had been created to offer.

Huggy’s response wasn’t immediate, but it wasn’t hostile either. Instead, he took a step closer, his large frame towering over you. He didn’t try to grab you or threaten you. He simply knelt down, lowering himself to your level. And then, with a gentle motion that seemed so foreign to his nature, he wrapped his long arms around you in a hug. It was awkward, almost clumsy, as if he wasn’t entirely sure how to hold you without causing harm. But it was there—a gentle, almost tender embrace.

You held on for a moment, a quiet smile creeping onto your face. This—this was what Huggy had been meant for. Not to be a monster, but to offer comfort, to be the source of warmth and affection he had been designed to be before everything had gone wrong.

It felt like a small victory. The kind of victory that didn’t come from defeating an enemy, but from giving someone, or something, the chance to be seen as more than what they had become.

Huggy’s large head nuzzled gently against your shoulder. Despite everything that had happened in this twisted factory, in this place of nightmares, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace.

“Thank you, Huggy,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him. “You didn’t deserve any of this.”

For a brief moment, the factory seemed less ominous, less dangerous. Huggy, the creature who had once been a source of terror, now simply wanted to be understood. And for once, in this forsaken place, you understood him.

You stepped back from the hug, your hands resting on his shoulders as you gave him a reassuring smile. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Maybe, just maybe, Huggy Wuggy could find his way back to the love he was once meant to give.

As you turned to leave, you glanced back one last time at the towering blue creature, now seemingly at peace, standing alone in the quiet, broken factory. The path ahead of you was uncertain, but for the first time in what felt like forever, you knew there was a chance for redemption—even for Huggy Wuggy.

And in the end, that was all that mattered.

— Kissy Missy

The factory loomed around you like an old, haunted memory, every creak and groan a whisper of its long, forgotten past. The shadows seemed to stretch for miles, the dim flicker of lights casting eerie silhouettes against the walls. But amidst this endless labyrinth, there was something — or rather, someone — you couldn’t shake from your mind.

Kissy Missy.

When you first encountered her, she had been a tragic figure, caught in the aftermath of violence and destruction. She had once been part of something grand, a cheerful toy meant to bring joy. Yet, years of abandonment, trauma, and violence had altered her. Despite her kindness, there was a depth of sadness within her. She had seen horrors that no one should have to bear, and now, she wandered the empty halls, looking for solace in the rubble.

You had grown fond of her over time, not just as a comrade in this strange and dangerous world but as a friend. And you knew, perhaps more than anyone, that even the toughest souls needed affection sometimes.

That night, as you walked through the cold, empty corridors of the factory, your thoughts turned back to her. Kissy Missy was injured. You could see the physical toll the factory had taken on her, the scars on her body from an unknown attacker, and the burns marking her face. But there was something else, something you could sense. Her spirit, too, had been wounded, battered by years of loneliness and violence.

You stopped in front of her quarters, the heavy door creaking as you pushed it open. She was there, slumped against the far wall, her large, dark eyes tired but still holding a glimmer of something — something hopeful, something good.

She didn’t notice you at first, her gaze distant. But you didn’t need to say anything. She’d always understood. Slowly, you moved toward her, kneeling down to her level. For a moment, you simply gazed at her, taking in her delicate features and the softness that still remained beneath the layers of pain and exhaustion.

“Kissy…” you said gently, your voice carrying the weight of unsaid things. She turned toward you slowly, her gaze meeting yours with a quiet recognition. She didn’t smile, but there was a flicker of relief in her eyes — she had been waiting, perhaps without even knowing it, for this moment.

Without thinking, you reached out, your hand softly resting on her shoulder. The warmth of your touch was met with a long, almost imperceptible sigh from her. It was as though she had been holding her breath for too long, and finally, someone had come to release her from the tension of it all.

You didn’t speak, not just yet. Instead, you simply gave her a gentle squeeze, a comforting touch that she had long since forgotten. Her eyelids fluttered, and she leaned into it, just slightly, her head dipping to rest against your hand.

The gesture was so simple, yet in it was everything. It was the kindness she hadn’t known in years, the warmth she had been starved of, the affection she so desperately needed but never dared to ask for.

Without a word, you stood up and moved behind her, pressing your palm against the back of her head, urging her forward into a soft embrace. You could feel the tension in her body, the slight tremble as she tried to stay strong, but she gave in. She allowed herself to be held for a moment, to be taken out of the nightmare of the factory, even if just for a brief while.

It was quiet — just the two of you in that forgotten place. You could hear the faint hum of the factory’s systems, the distant echoes of machinery, but none of that mattered. What mattered was that, for once, Kissy Missy wasn’t alone.

As you stood there, holding her, your mind wandered to all the things she had gone through. The years of isolation. The horror of the massacre. The unrelenting loneliness. It was no wonder she had become the way she was — strong, silent, fierce in her resolve. But beneath all of that, there was a heart that longed for connection, for love, for someone to show her that she still mattered.

You kissed the top of her head gently, a small gesture of affection, your lips brushing the soft, pink fur of her hair. It wasn’t romantic; it was something deeper, something more human. It was a promise — a promise that she wasn’t forgotten, that she wasn’t some abandoned, discarded thing left to rot in the depths of the factory.

The slight weight of her head against your chest was a silent confirmation that she understood. You weren’t going to leave her alone in this place. You wouldn’t let her carry the burden of her past by herself.

For a long while, you stayed like that. The world outside seemed distant, and all that mattered in that moment was the fragile creature in your arms. You could feel the subtle rise and fall of her chest as she took a deep, steadying breath, and you knew, for just a fleeting moment, she felt safe.

When you finally pulled back, you didn’t leave her side. Instead, you sat beside her, your shoulder against hers, offering your presence as a reminder that she wasn’t forgotten. She looked at you, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, there was something resembling peace in her eyes.

In the quiet of that factory, you promised yourself that no matter what horrors lay ahead, Kissy Missy would never face them alone. And that, for all the trauma she had endured, she could still find a little bit of warmth, a little bit of comfort in this broken world.

You didn’t have to say it aloud. She knew. And for now, that was enough.

[w0rmss]

Hi! Would you write a smut oneshot of Bruce Wayne just playing with reader’s clit for his own amusement? I feel like he would 100% trace his name with his tongue ahhh

He would he so so would and thank you for the request

Tw: orgasm denial oral(f) slight sub/dom use off baby girl and nicknames like that afab reader

Enjoy

Bruce had been between your thighs for hours. His hands keeping your legs open to the point your hips hurt. A puddle had formed under you from how wet you were between your arousal and his saliva. "Bruce." You whine trying to push his head away. He laughed which only made the sensation worse. "What baby girl to much... you can take it." The billionaire goes right back to his meal faster than before.

Your back arches when his tongue finds your clit. "Fuck fuck fuck." You squeak let's pushing against his hands to close. Then you realise, the mother fucker his writing his name with his tongue. Not just burce but his full fucking name. Bruce Thomas Wayne. "Bruce please." You whine grinding your face against his nose. He just hums around your clit, the vibrations sending pleasure through you. You're so close to the point you start seeing stars. Then he stops.

You shoot up and glare at him. "Bruce!" The man just smirks and kisses your inner thigh. "What pretty baby... what do you want. Tell me." He continues to litter your thigh in kisses occasionally kissing your puffy overstimulated bud. "I I... mmmm." You flop back on the bed and grumble. "I wanna cum." "What was that pretty girl?" Bruce gives your clit a hard suck causing you to gasp. "What do you want gorgeous." He asks again sterner this time, and your slightly embarrassed to admit, it's hot. "I wanna cum... please." That's all Bruce wanted.

The man dove head first into your core lapping up all the juices and sucking your clit like it was his job. Your legs clamped around his head and your hands pulled at his dark hair to bring him closer. Soon your orgasms crashed over you amd Bruce's expert lounge helped you ride out ever last wave. "Oh fuck." You whine your breath coming out in gasps as bruce licks up every last drop like a dehydrated man. "Happy baby." He kisses up your body to your lips so you can taste yourself off his tongue. "Very." You hum into his lips. "Good cause I'm not done with you." He grinds his hard cock into your overstimulated pussy and you know it's gonna be a long night.

Hope you guys enjoyed. I love Bruce so much it's not funny.

Anyways keep requesting please I'll get to them eventually thank you so much

[thevoicefromanotherworld]

"YES?"

We all know Dave is obsessed with boobs. I mean, we all saw THAT scene in the movie, so I wrote a fic about it

Hope you like it!

Dave was trying to concentrate on reading the comic he had in his hands, but the fact that you kept teasing him to pay attention to you wasn't helping at all.

More than once he had looked up from the colorful pages to see the tempting shape of your nipples showing beneath the tight black t-shirt you were wearing. It was no secret that Dave loved boobs, but specifically his girlfriend's, meaning yours.

You knew perfectly well the effect you were having on him. When you woke up that morning, you decided that you wouldn't put on your bra.

After all, Dave had already seen you naked a few times, so you left it stored in the drawer of your nightstand.

You turned your head towards him when you felt him looking at you. He quickly turned his head back to his comic.

“Dave, are you okay?” you asked, he nodded without taking his eyes off the comic.

“Perfectly,” he answered in a squeaky voice, making you smile.

You stopped what you were doing and sat on his lap slowly. He pushed the comic away in the same way to look at you, while a blush spread across his cheeks.

You smiled because despite everything you had shared together, the fact that he still retained that shyness was something that turned you on more than you were willing to admit.

“What are you doing?” he asked in a shaky voice.

“I'm taking care of my boyfriend,” you smiled, leaving a soft kiss on his lips, before looking into his eyes, his glasses fogging up for a moment. “That's what good girlfriends do, right?”

-I guess so - he murmured, sketching a nervous smile - you know you're my first girlfriend, so I don't have much experience in that

-I know - you smiled -

You saw how his gaze went down to your chest again. You made a gesture with your index finger towards your face.

-My eyes are up here, Dave - you reminded him, he tilted his head before looking at you attentively -

-Yeah… sure… I'm sorry… it's just that… I… - he stammered, you shook your head from side to side -

-You don't have to apologize - you whispered - I know exactly what you need

-Yes?

-Yes - you said reaching the hem of your shirt between your fingers -

You put the garment aside, and your breasts were in front of him. He looked at them for a moment, before looking up at you.

-Shit - he cursed making you smile, he brought his hands closer to them - Can I…? –he asked, you nodded-

-Yes –you said- please touch me –you almost begged-

His deep blue eyes connected with yours, before he caught your breasts in his hands. You gasped at the touch of his cold skin against your warm one.

They felt heavy in his palms as he ran his thumb over your nipples, making goosebumps rise all over your skin. His gaze focused on your face, taking in all the sensations that ran through it.

-Don't stop… -you gasped- please…

Dave leaned forward to capture your lips in a soft kiss, before moving his lips down your neck, until he caught one of your nipples between his teeth, while massaging the other with his hand.

You brought your hands to his curly locks, tugging at it with each little bite and swipe of his tongue.

-God… -you gasped- if I knew you were so good at this, I would have stopped wearing a bra a long time ago

-You don't need them -he said making you smile- for me you can burn them all

A couple of passes with his tongue made you cum like a teenager.

You didn't care in the least, not when you saw the smug smile your boyfriend had on his lips, and the way his blue eyes shone with a special glow.

[organic-bloodbath]

thank you for the chishiya x pregnant!reader, it was so good!! i hadn’t finished the show when i sent my request, not knowing he was a doctor lol

if you’re still taking requests… how about after they wake up in the hospital, and reader has already delivered their baby? anything soft or fluffy💕 thank you!!

Child of Hearts - Part 2

Chishiya x Pregnant!Reader

This applies to two different requests:

"I just read your child of hearts shot it was so nice, so like after the borderlands, like when they are in hospital due to the meteorite and all.

So the child is born in the hospital and all are safe,  i want chishiya reaction to seeing his child for the first time. While being in the hospital bed along with the reader who was lucky to survive the crash"

- Anon

Part 1

Summary: You wake up in the hospital and get back home safely. Later, you finally deliver the baby, Chishiya by your side.

A/N: Second part for softie and fluffy Chishiya ♡ Thank you for everyone reading the first part, hope this is alright 🫶🏻

♤♡♧◇

You opened your eyes, confused where you were and what had just happened. At first, you saw only white all around you. White ceiling, white walls, and as you looked down, you were covered with a white blanket.

You were starting to panic. You had no memory what had led you to a hospital. This was a hospital, right? You were too paralyzed to even move at first.

Then, a few flashes came back into your mind. You were only crossing the street outside with Chishiya, a crowd of people surrounding you, until you noticed something bright in the sky. After that, no memory at all.

You didn't know how many minutes you stayed still and in your thoughts, but after a moment the door opened and a woman in a doctor's coat came in.

"Oh, you're finally awake!" she exclaimed and came to stand next to you. "Are you feeling alright, Ms. Tanaka?"

"Um, what happened?" you asked and instantly coughed, finding your voice a little raspy. "Can i get some water?"

"Of course, honey," the woman said and brought you a cup of water. "Do you remember anything?"

You shook your head.

"A meteorite hit Tokyo and people were taken to the hospital, you included," she explained.

"A meteorite?" you asked in shock, brows shot up close to your hairline. That wasn't at all what you had expected. It wouldn't have been even close to any guesses you might have had.

"It's a wonder, really, how little bruises and injuries your body suffered," she said. "Only your leg got a severe hit and you lost a lot of blood. We took you in for a surgery, and you'll be fine."

You glanced at your leg under the blanket and found your thigh wrapped in bandages.

"Is my baby..." You laid your hand protectively on your stomach, trying to find any movements but felt nothing.

"Your baby is alright," she smiled. "We examined her throughly and she's healthy and well."

"Her?" you whispered, eyes wide. You hadn't known the gender of the baby, you had wanted it to be a surprise when the baby would be born.

"Oh, you didn't know the gender?" the doctor asked, surprised. "I apologize for ruining the surprise."

Then, your eyes widened.

"Chishiya? Where's Chishiya?" you panicked. "Please, please don't tell me he's-"

"Mr. Shuntaro is alright," she calmed you down. "He's awake and well. I'll send him here soon, you shouldn't get up and walk yet."

You let out a breath of relief. Everything was fine. You were going to be fine. Nothing to worry about. Chishiya was okay. Your baby was okay. You were okay.

When you saw Chishiya approaching you not long after, tears started pouring down your cheeks before you even realized it.

"Y/N!" Chishiya breathed out and wrapped his arms around you tightly. He held you in silence for a while, and you let yourself cry against his shoulder. He planted a kiss on the top of your head. "When i woke up alone, for a second i thought i had lost you."

"I'm okay," you assured him. "And the baby is too."

You stayed like that for a few more minutes.

"Let's go outside for a bit," Chishiya suggested after a while. "It's good for you to get some fresh air."

He told you he'd get you a wheelchair if you were too weak to walk on your own but you weren't that much in pain. Although, when you put weight on your left leg, you did let out a short wince, making Chishiya force you to sit back down until he'd gotten you crutches to use.

On your way through the corridors, you saw many patients who had their arm or leg wrapped in bandages but were overall doing well. Some were on a wheelchair and some moved with the help of crutches, like you. You wondered how many people died in the accident and how many were left only injured, like you. Then, a fear in your chest rose if any of your friends or family had been around and gotten hurt. Right now, you recognised none of the patients. You wished you would have though, because that would mean atleast they weren't dead.

As you arrived outside, the sun shining bright on a cloudless sky, you and Chishiya sat on a bench together. You were both quiet for a moment, only enjoying the fresh air.

"Do you feel somehow... different after the accident?" Chishiya asked.

"I suppose, a little bit," you answered, furrowing your brows. "I can't really explain it."

"Me neither. It's like something inside me has changed, but i can't figure out what."

You did have an odd feeling. Like there was something missing, but you couldn't figure out what could mean.

"I haven't been in an accident as big as this before," you stated. "Does every victim, like us, feel this way? Like, as if you now have more will to live after almost dying."

"Well, technically we did die for 1 minute," he corrected.

"That's strange, isn't it?"

"Sure is," Chishiya agreed.

You were about to say something, when someone approached you.

"Y/N? Oh thank goodness, darling," an older woman rushed towards you and immediately put her arms around you, squeezing you so hard you were barely able to breathe.

"Mom, i'm fine," you mumbled against her blouse. "What are you doing here?"

"They called me, of course," she said. "I'm sorry, i would have come sooner but you know how it is at work."

You weren't so close to your mother anymore, you saw her very rarely. She had always put her work and career before you, sparing you the most minimal amount of time she could.

"Oh, and Chishiya," mom gasped, as if only now noticing his presence, and took him into a hug as well, startling him completely.

Mom had never hugged Chishiya before, so Chishiya only froze and didn't manage to hug her back, not really knowing what to do. You found the confused expression on his face amusing and couldn't help but smirk a little.

"What a miracle that the both of you survived that massive attack." She let go of Chishiya, looking down at your stomach. "Oh, i mean, the three of you, of course."

"Is everyone else alright?" you asked.

"Yes, as far as i know," she nodded. "I've asked all our family and friends and they were all okay."

♤♡♧◇

They kept you at the hospital for two more days to make sure everything was alright with you and the baby, doing a few tests, until they gave you the permission to go back home.

Your father, who had moved to Korea after his new wife seven years ago, called you for the first time in five years as well. You had let him know of your pregnancy, but he hadn't cared to be involved in your life very much. So his call was a complete surprise, but it was a nice gesture to see that his daughter didn't die.

As you got back home, slowly you and Chishiya settled back to your normal daily routine and tried to continue your life as before.

♤♡♧◇

♡ 6 WEEKS LATER ♡

You and Chishiya were at a restaurant, having a dinner together. You hadn't gone out in a long time, so it was nice to have a fancier meal for once. Right now, you were in the bathroom, leaving Chishiya to sit at the table by himself and wait for the bill.

While washing your hands, you felt your underwear become wet. Your eyes widened as you looked down to your feet and right then you felt pain in your stomach.

"Oh, fuck," you whispered. "No, no, no."

"Hey, you oka-" a girl came to you from one of the stalls right at that moment, but her words stuck in her throat when she looked down as well. "Oh. Oh." She put her hand on your shoulder. "Come on, i'll help you."

You gasped after another cramp.

"Are you alone here or with someone?"

"I'm w-with my boyfriend."

"Okay, i'll help you to him, it'll be okay."

You didn't know this woman but you were thankful for her help, anyway. You clung on her elbow as she walked you towards Chishiya. He turned to look at you, confused at first why you were dragging a stranger with you, but soon realized what was happening.

Chishiya was immediately right by your side, holding you up by his hand on your arm and other around your back.

"Okay, we'll need to get to the hospital," Chishiya said. He didn't show it, but inside he was freaking out a little. He knew this day could come any moment by now and had mentally prepared himself for that, but it still came as a surprise since you were in a public place.

"I can drive you," the girl offered. "It'll be faster than ordering a taxi."

You and Chishiya shortly exchanged glances.

"Okay, okay thank you, i-" you started but your words were interrupted by a gasp of pain.

Chishiya and the girl helped you to the backseat of her car, Chishiya sitting right next to you.

"I'm Kuina, by the way," the girl said, glancing over her shoulder after she had put her seatbelt on.

The entire car ride, which didn't last more than 15 minutes, Chishiya held your hand and tried to make you stay calm.

"So, you know if it's a boy or girl yet?" Kuina asked.

"Girl," you answered when the car stopped at traffick lights. "It's a girl."

Kuina smiled. "I'm sure she's going to be a very beautiful child."

♤♡♧◇

"Chishiya, i can't do this," you muttered on the hospital bed. "Please, don't make me do this, i want to go home. Can't we do this tomorrow or next week or-"

Chishiya cupped your face in his hands, stopping your panicked rambling. "I'll be with you the entire time, don't worry."

"I can't-"

"Yes, you can," he assured you while you were crying. "You're one of the strongest people i know. It'll be over sooner than you realize."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

♤♡♧◇

Hours later, after finally delivering the baby, which had been the most exhausting, painful and terrifying experience in your life, the baby had been taken away shortly.

You were only lying on the bed, your body feeling heavier than ever before. Chishiya sat next to you on a chair, his hand resting on yours. You had squeezed his right hand so hard during the delivery that he could have easily twisted his fingers into wrong positions.

"You did well," Chishiya said with a soft voice. "They'll be back any minute."

"I'm so tired," you mumbled.

Chishiya brushed your hair with his fingers. Your forehead was still sweaty. "I know."

After around 15 minutes, Chishiya left to go to the bathroom. Just a moment after, a doctor came inside, holding something in her arms and a wide smile on her lips.

"Here she is," she announced and gave the baby to you, wrapped tightly in a white blanket.

As you held her in your arms and looked at her sweet little face, your eyes started to water immediately and in just a few seconds you were crying.

She was so beautiful with her big dark eyes and toothless smile. She was so tiny and fragile that you were almost scared to hold her too tight.

"Hi, honey," you chuckled through the tears. You wiped your thumb gently on her cheek and right when you were about to pull your hand away, she grabbed your thumb with her little hand, looking into your eyes.

Soon, the door opened again and Chishiya stepped back inside, stopping on his tracks when he saw you and your child. Your cheeks were wet from the tears as you lifted your head to look towards him.

"Shiya," you breathed out. "Come here."

He walked towards you slowly, as if afraid that this was all a dream and if he took one wrong step, he'd wake up back to a much darker reality.

He stopped right by your side and looked at the baby, locking eyes with her. He was speechless and couldn't find any words to say.

"Do you want to hold him?" you offered.

You gave the baby to him and he carefully took her into his arms, being as careful with her as you had been too, scared to drop and break her.

Chishiya only looked at his daughter for a while in awe. He took her small hand in his and flinched, when the baby let out a little laugh. It immediately made a smile spread on his face, and you could see his eyes starting to water a little bit, but he forced to keep the tears inside. You didn't think you had ever seen him cry in front of you.

"She's beautiful," Chishiya whispered, then turning to you. "Like her mother."

You chuckled, cheeks warming up - even after these few years, the compliments Chishiya gave to you still made you blush and your heart flutter. You couldn't believe that all three of you had survived a meteorite attack with only a few scratches and were now here together.

Chishiya gave her back to you, and you moved yourself a little to the left so that Chishiya could sit on the edge of the bed with you. He put his arm around you, gently squeezing your shoulder and pressing a kiss on the top of your head. He let his head lean against yours as you both just looked at your child together.

"Shiya?" you whispered.

"Hm?"

"What should we name her?"

"Don't mothers always have a list of ideas what to name their kids?"

"I did have, but none of them seem good enough now," you said and let your thoughts wander around your mind for a moment, until it catched one of idea. "I think... Akane."

"Akane," he tried, tasting it in his mouth first a little bit and looking at your daughter in your arms who had eyes on you the entire time. "She does look like an Akane."

"Where have i heard that name before?" you wondered. "It sounds familiar."

Chishiya thought about it for a moment. "It does, doesn't it? But it's a beautiful name nevertheless."

"Y/N, Chishiya and Akane," you smiled and looked into Chishiya's eyes. "I like that."

Chishiya smiled back and kissed you gently on your lips. "Me too."

♤♡♧◇

A/N: i hope you liked this, let me know what you think 🫶🏻

[lsunstreakerl]

using this hellsite for its intended purpose (posting smut on main)

this is technically two ficlets, but I'll be posting the second one later. for now, I gift u all 1.7k words of omegaverse, and it's actually max and esteban, omega/omega (I cannot believe I'm writing these words I am going to hell). hi yes hello mature content here. not violent just horny.

This is not any less embarrassing than Max had expected it to be, standing at Esteban's door at five in the morning. He hadn't even sent a heads up text, he'd just shown up.

He's not even sure if Ocon's in the country.

He hopes he's in the country- Max is kind of fucked otherwise, because then he's just standing in front of the door for nothing, and he's pretty sure this is preheat, but he doesn't fucking know.

His heat crisis at the airport hadn't been sexual at all. His cresting heat in his own flat in Monaco had been brutal, but tame compared to what's to come, and Max doesn't exactly have other omegas to ask.

It's not that he's scared, he just-

Well.

There's footsteps on the other side of the door, and then quiet for a moment- Esteban must be checking to see who it is.

Sure enough, the door swings open a few seconds later.

"Verstappen, what the fuck- oh shit."

Esteban smells good, is one of the things Max notes as he's being dragging inside, door shut behind him. He has a big fluffy nest on the floor of his living room, and there's an action movie paused on the screen, and-

Max is pretty sure he's talking to him.

"-aaaaaax. Hey, earth to Verstappen-"

Max blinks rapidly, and then he tips forward and buries his nose in Esteban's neck, pressed right against his scent gland.

"Ah!"

Esteban yanks him back by the collar of his shirt, and Max whines, because he smelled good and he wants more, and it's making him feel better being next to it.

"Why did you do this. Why the fuck- why did you come to me, how long have you even been an omega, what the fuck-"

Max feels a whine building in his chest, because that's a thing omegas do, and he's rapidly realizing he's going to need to get comfortable with a lot of uncomfortable things about his designation soon.

"Christ, okay- okay, come on."

Esteban is leading him into the living room, and Max hopes they're going to the nest, because Esteban's looks so good, better than anything Max has ever been able to build.

Esteban bats at his hands, gently nudging the side of Max's foot.

"Shoes, please."

Max toes them off, and then Esteban tugs him down into the nest, and it's so soft, soft and perfect, and Esteban's got this omega thing on lock.

Max immediately shifts towards Esteban, because he wants snuggles, wants the warm heat of someone else, and Esteban's scent is so nice, even if he smells concerned and bewildered at the moment.

"Right, preheat, okay. Maybe the Dutch do it differently."

Max almost wants to laugh. He has no idea how Dutch omegas nest or heat. He's never been allowed near other omegas.

Esteban sighs, and there's a begrudging type of fondness in his eyes for a moment.

"I'm doing this because I'm a good person, Max, so remember that next time you want to shove me, yes? Good. Come on, shirt off."

Esteban tugs his own shirt over his head, and Max's brain isn't quite moving at its normal pace, but he's compliant as Esteban bats at his hands, pulling Max's shirt off over his arms and shoulders before tossing it to the side somewhere.

Max just wants to snuggle.

Esteban pulls him in, letting Max settle his nose right above his scent gland, chest to chest in the nest as he pulls a blanket over them.

"You have no idea what you're doing."

Max makes a weak whimper, distracted by pressing his nose in until his brain is just a looping mantra of Esteban, Esteban, Esteban-

"Right."

Esteban kicks up a purr, and Max melts on top of him, loose muscles and head fuzzy. His throat hitches, but he can't quite make it go- still doesn't know how.

There's a nose in Max's hair, and one of Esteban's hands comes up by his neck, long fingers running down the side.

Max feels like there's a weighted blanket on his brain, making everything slow and syrupy.

He loses track of time- he's pretty sure Esteban starts his movie back up, based on the explosion noises.

Max barely even registers that he's softly grinding his hips over Esteban's thigh, only notices because Esteban's scent sweetens under his nose, and his purr gets louder.

"Max."

It's gentle, and Max makes a responding hum. His eyes are half open, not really seeing anything.

"Max, you are supposed to heat partner with an alpha."

Duh. Max would've done that, if he was out and trusted any of the alphas to handle him right- his first choice was Daniel, but he's out of the country with Scotty, and Max didn't want to interrupt their trip.

He can't exactly go to Seb.

Asking any of the garage members violates probably a million FIA policies and also the law in a few countries. Lando and George are omegas, but they're new and Max doesn't know either of them, which leaves him with Esteban. He'd shown up on a whim, even though he isn't part of the pack, because he knows he can't handle it alone.

An older, more experienced omega was the logical choice.

He doesn't realize he's whining until Esteban noses at his hair, scent wrapping around him.

"Okay, you don't have to tell me- it is okay, Max. I will help you."

Esteban hitches his thigh up and Max gasps, lightning bolts going through him at the change in angle. Long fingers run down the side of his neck before pressing down on his scent gland, and Max ruts forward, nose back in Esteban's neck. It feels good, and it smells good, and if things could stay slow and hot and nice just like this, Max might be okay with heats.

Esteban breaks that fantasy.

"Go on Max, get a good one in before your heat really hits."

Max whines softly, and Esteban sighs, hand slipping down Max's spine to settle on his lower back, helping him with the drag and slide of it all, the push-pull. Max's brain is liquid, a soft loop of sensation and feeling good.

It's not a rough orgasm by any means- it's gentle compared to others Max has had, washes through him in a way that's slow and overwhelming, leaves him collapsed against Esteban's chest, slick cooling between his thighs.

Esteban noses at him again- he's scenting him, gently pushing the side of their heads together. Max hasn't been scented by a member of the pack before- Daniel scented him regularly before he left, and Nico had done it frequently as well, but they're both gone now, and it's been a minute since anyone outside of Redbull bothered.

"You are okay with fingers? Toys? Mouth?"

Max's hips jerk again at the thought, face heating up. He nods against Esteban's neck, keeping his face hidden.

"Okay. Max, I am not set up for a heat at the moment- I need my alpha to come by with groceries, is that going to be alright?"

Esteban has an alpha? That can't be right- Max has his nose on top of Esteban's scent gland right now, there's definitely no mark here.

He noses at it pointedly, enjoying the spike is Esteban's scent at the sensation, his soft gasp.

"Don't be archaic Verstappen. I can have an alpha without having a bite. I have two, thank you very much."

Okay- Max knows the alphas of the pack significantly outnumber the omegas, but two is just greedy. His scent must change, because Esteban snorts.

"I didn't think you wanted Pierre or Charles, but if you want to share for your heat we can do that."

Max pauses for a moment. He's... actually not sure. He hasn't been with an alpha before, but if Esteban is here- if they listen to him-

Max isn't stupid. He knows his first proper heat is going to be bad, that's his consequence for being on suppressants for so long. Toys aren't going to cut it. They'll keep him from Red Heating, sure, but that's about where that ends.

He's going to be begging Esteban for something he can't give him.

Pierre isn't terrible. He's not close with the rest of the garage, and Max is pretty sure he's somehow managed to entirely miss the memo that Max is the pack omega- probably hasn't picked up on Redbull being a pack at all.

In his defense, there hasn't been a garage pack on the grid since before Max was born.

Charles- Max isn't sure how desperate a heat is going to make him, but if he ends up begging Charles to fuck him he's going to jump out the window when it's over.

Weird cresting heat induced insanity aside, Max has not once wanted anything to do with Charles. He's annoying and entitled, and Max still doesn't believe that he's actually an alpha.

He seems like the kind of guy to want to be a gentleman to an omega, which-

Charles has not once ever been gentle to Max, it's practically the foundation of their relationship, and Max isn't sure if he's going to want kindness and consideration for his heat.

He's not freaking out about it, he just-

He doesn't know.

He's whining into Esteban's neck again, a slow need starting to build deep inside of him. He wants them, he doesn't want them, he cares, he doesn't care- everything is so difficult.

Esteban rattles out another purr, scent heavy in the room. Max settles, nose full of fresh snow and eucalyptus.

He nods his head, a tiny shift, and Esteban's scent takes on a pleased note, sweet and satisfied.

"They will be good, I promise. I'll kick them out if they aren't."

Max is fairly confident that's not how that works, but maybe the French are different. Esteban slides one hand to tap at his phone as the other shifts from Max's back to the front of his hips.

"Okay?"

Max nods, and he's sure his own scent is all over the place, canting his hips up for Esteban to slide his hand down under his waistband, long fingers cool against his overheated skin.

His scent spikes again and Esteban purrs, nosing gently at him.

"It's okay, Max. It's alright, you're okay."

Everything is-

It's a lot.

Max is whining, a soft noise as Esteban works his fingers inside of him, and they're so different from Max's, feel alien inside him, but they feel good too, and Max-

Max wants to be good, wants to show Esteban that he knows how to be an omega, a good omega, even if the pack doesn't want him.

He knows it's not his strongest area- he's poured all his time and effort into racing, doesn't know what to do with himself outside of it, but this- Esteban's fingers inside him, Max's nose pressed into his neck, a slow build- this feels good. It feels right.