#most of the time all of them will be loaded with content so i get overloaded lmao

[kibbles-bits]

Does social hierarchy even matter in heaven? It’s funny if it doesnt and vox is only doing it out of his own pride and for the praise lmao.

im curious to know how he ‘helps’ people for him to be loaded since he cant buy his way to the top again

It doesn't matter as much as he thinks! All Winners are friendly and they don't treat him unkindly even if they don't like him. He feels different and is treated a little differently and he takes it super personally - which enhances the traits he has that makes other Winners treat him differently in the first place.

(They can smell the capitalism on him. But he's here in Heaven with them, so he's a good guy, right?)

He considers 'loaded' as just being one of the most well-known faces in Heaven and getting involved in as many things as he can. If he's treated differently he's going to make sure it's because he's Important and The Best.

He's in charge of most media entertainment, news, organizing public events and he has a finger in the development of new technology. He's involved in most things that make people happy and content in Heaven. Which leads him to working alongside Emily more than any other Winner has before.

Working alongside her led to their friendship and she treats him normally. All he has to do is Be Good and Helpful. He slips up a few times, gets charity mixed with personal desires, but she's quick to correct him or put a selfless spin on his ideas without making him feel different ashamed and he appreciates that.

(I feel like I should say he does genuinely love and value her. Aside from Vark (gifted to him by her), she's his only real friend.)

Also, being friends with a Seraphim is the biggest ego boost and everyone knows they're friends. He made sure of it. So now he's more Important by Default. He practically has God's seal of approval.

You can even say Emily makes his life rich.

(Read the Heaven's Best AU HERE)

[ozzgin]

Just read your arranged marriage kidnapped by a most post and the humor in the servants always thinking reader is in peril. The same going for monster hubby (He just thinks they're submissive and breedable)

Like none of them realize they are a moster fucker cause they hide it so well. Like just imagining reader be like "oh be gentle with me I'm a dainty maiden" and then giving him the night of his life is hilarious. Or them having dinner and the servants feel bad for them cause monster hubby is eating human meat but their just thinking about other things he can use his tongue on.

Or maybe someone comes to rescue them from the terrible monster finally. But they don't wanna leave and instead fight the knight off. The knight thinks they've been brainwashed or something. Meanwhile the servants think the knight just wasn't good enough to rescue them.

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, NSFW! [Part 1] | [More Monsters]

The servants are not blind by any means: they can tell, quite plainly, that their monstrous Lord has a soft spot for you. Not only that, but the beast nearly worships you! They've come up with many theories, the latest one involving witchcraft. Surely you must have some sort of magical trickery under your sleeve in order to subdue their Master. There's no other way around it. All previous humans have been devoured, or have died in a pitiful attempt to escape, terrified to the bone upon gazing at his blasphemous Majesty.

You can't blame them. It's probably better for everyone involved if you omit the fact that your source of witchcraft lies in your...genitals. Well, not just that, of course. Your husband had started to lose hope. His appreciation of humans never came to fruition before your arrival. He was expecting you to cower in fear, not throw yourself at him.

He wondered if you wanted something from him in return, but no one could possibly pretend so flawlessly: the way you clung to him unprompted. The way you hungrily took him in, tears welling in your eyes, refusing to let go until you could feel his load avalanching down your throat. The way you'd trap his hips with your legs, despite being weak and feverish, asking that he doesn't stop yet. If that wasn't proof enough, your whines and moans were loud and clear. To think he could have his own little human, one who isn't repulsed by his monstrous form. He would've been content with mere tolerance, yet someone who begged to be fucked by him? He's been delirious ever since.

He loves everything about you, naturally, but he can't deny the shameless addiction he's now developed towards your body. He'd pound you anywhere and anytime if he could. If he needs to leave for official matters, know that the return will burn in the back of his mind.

"An important date, Sir?" one traveling servant will ask, glancing at all the scribbles in the calendar.

"Indeed", he answers solemnly. It's the times when he can finally fuck you dumb.

While the servants worry about their devilish Master being put under leash, for the other fellow humans the opposite seems to be true. You recall your last "rescuing" attempt distinctly. During one of your evening walks, burly, foreign arms swept you off in an instant. Before you knew it, you were holding onto the armored shoulders of an unknown man, as he made his way out of the traditional garden.

"I'll get you out of here", he promised between heaving breaths.

You stared in confusion. What was he saving you from? A good dicking? No matter how much you explained that you do actually like your newly appointed husband, the hero wouldn't budge.

You ended up just walking back home when the man fell asleep.

"That was quite the long walk", your monster partner remarked, polishing his weapons.

"Oh no, I was kidnapped", you state casually. "Got us some fruits on the way back."

Would it have been better to lie about it? On one hand, you do feel terrible for whoever attempted to retrieve you from the claws of the tyrant. Your husband is very possessive, and you know he'll scorch the Earth until that treacherous pest is gutted and fed to the pigs.

On the other hand...he becomes particularly savage after such incidents. You won't be able to sit properly for the next few weeks, but it's worth it.

Tough luck, you tell yourself, lounging in bed with a satisfied smirk and torn apart hole.

[thatoneweirdo14]

the fun part of being multifandom is now that i've got all my hyperfixations balanced i will literally never run out of content

[zooophagous]

So why do you hate the advertising industry?

Hokay so.

Let me preface this with some personal history. It's not relevant to the sins of the advertising industry perse but it illustrates how I started to grow to hate it.

I wanted to be a veterinarian growing up, but to be a vet you basically have to be good enough to get into medical school. I do not have the math chops or discipline to make it in medical school. I went into art instead, and in a desperate attempt to find some commercial viability that didn't involve moving to California, I went into graphic design.

I've been a graphic designer for about seven or eight years now and I've worn a lot of hats. One of them was working in a print shop. Now, the print shop had a lot of corporate customers who had various ad campaigns. One of them was Gate City Bank, which had a bigass stack of postcards ordered every couple months to mail to their customers.

Now, paper comes from Dakota Paper, and they make their paper the usual way. Somewhere far, far from our treeless plain there is a forest of tall trees. These trees are cut down and put on big fossil fuel burning trucks and hauled to a paper mill that turns them into pulp while spewing the most fowl odors imaginable over the neighboring town and loads the pulp up with bleach to give it a nice white color.

Then the paper is put on yet another big truck and hauled off to the local paper depot, then put on another big truck and delivered to my print shop, where I turned the paper into postcards telling people to go even deeper into debt to buy a boat because it's almost summer. The inks used are a type of nasty heat sensitive plastic that is melted to the surface of the paper with heat. Then the postcards are put on yet ANOTHER truck and sent to the bank, which puts them on ANOTHER truck and finally into the hands of their customers, who open their mail and take one look at the post card and immediately discard it.

Heaps and heaps and literal hundreds of pounds of literal garbage created at the whim of the marketing team several times a year. And thats just one bank in one city.

I came to realize very quickly that graphic design was the delicate art of turning trees into junk mail.

And wouldn't you know it there are a TON of companies that basically only do junk mail. Many of them operate under the guise of a "charity," sending you pictures of suffering children or animals and begging for handouts and when they get those handouts the executives take a nice fat cut, give some small token amount to whatever cause they pay lip service to, and then put the rest of the cash right back into making more mailers. "Direct mail marketing" they call it.

Oh but maybe it's not so bad, you can advertise online after all. Now that there's decent ad blocker out there and better anti-virus ads usually don't destroy your computer anymore just by existing.

Except now when I search for the exact business I want on Google it's buried under three or four different "promoted search items" tricking me into clicking on them only to shoot themselves in the foot because I searched for the specific result I wanted for a reason and couldn't use those other websites even if I felt like it.

And now we have advertising on YouTube and on every streaming service, forcing more and more eyes onto the ad for the brand new Buick Envision that parks itself because you're too stupid to do it on your own.

Oh thats ok maybe I'll get Spotify premium and go ad free and listen to some podcasts- SIKE we have the hosts of your show doing the song and dance now. Are you depressed and paranoid from listening to my true crime podcast about murdered and mutilated teenagers? That's ok, my sponsor Better Help can keep you sane enough to stay alive and spend more money.

It's gotten so terrible that now you have content farms, huge hubs of shell companies that crank out video after video to get more and more precious clicks. Which if the videos were innocuous maybe that wouldn't be so awful except now you have cooking hacks that can actually burn your house down and craft hacks that can electrocute you being flung into your eyes at the speed of mach fuck so some slimy internet clickbait jockey doesn't need to get a real job.

It of course goes without saying that animals are also relentlessly exploited by clickbait companies that will put them in compromising situations on purpose to create a fake fishing hack video or even just straight up killing them for sport by feeding small animals to a pufferfish that rips them apart for the camera.

And all of this, ALL of this doesn't even touch how adveritising is the death of art in general. Queer topics, any kind of interesting art, any kind of sex or substance use topics are scrubbed clean and hidden at the behest of advertisers.

Sex education, a nude statue, topics such as racism or sexism or bigotry in general have tags purged or hidden from search, even life saving information about SDTs or drug use, because if someone saw that and complained then Verizon might sell fewer tablets and we can't fucking have that.

Conservative talking heads often bitch and moan that they're being censored on social media. The stupid part is, they're right! They are being censored! But it's not by a woke mob, it's by ATT and Coca Cola not wanting their adspace sharing screen time with their stupid fucking opinions.

However, they won't ever figure that out, because the talking heads they get their marching orders from like Tucker and Jones ALSO rely on the sweet milk flowing from the sponsorship teat and they aren't about to turn on their meal ticket so they have to come up with even stupider shit to say for the train to continue rolling.

I managed to rant this far without even getting into the ads I see for the beauty industry. The other day a botox ad described wrinkles as "moderate to severe crows feet" as if wrinkles are a symptom of a fucking serious disease! Like having a flaw in your skin is a medical problem that you need thousands of dollars of literal botulism toxin to fix! I was incandescent with anger.

Advertising is a polluting, censoring, anti educational and anti art industry at it's very core. It destroys human connections, suppresses human thought and makes us hate our own bodies. It ads no value, actively detracts from value, and serves no real purpose and I believe it should be almost if not entirely banned.

[pedgito]

𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐘 | Joel Miller x reader

↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | you've got an issue and joel's willing to solve it. after all, what are neighbors for?

author's note | this was a prompt from a meet-weird thing i saw ages ago that was originally supposed to be javi, but jo (@undercoverpena) gave me the beautiful idea of making it joel and it spurred this monster.

content warning | established friendship, caught during sex, does the apocalypse having working appliances? probably not, but for the sake of this fic distend belief i beg. oral (eating out from the back), unprotected piv, subtly cocky!joel miller, he's a good ass neighbor, okay?, unbeta'd.

word count — 5.6k

Joel’s fixed this damn machine seven times, convincing himself every time that it was the last time. Shocker, it wasn’t. This time didn’t even last a month. He’s desperate now.

He would usually haul the load all the way to the communal laundry house closer to the group of joined townhomes that housed most of the younger adults—the spry and bright-faced ones who sprung up at the mention of patrol or work, any prospect of toting a gun around with any sense of leadership. They were eager, he couldn’t say the same for himself.

He was old, weathered—years of routine he had created to get the job done and get the hell home.

And truthfully, as he tapped the wrench against the metal machine, chin tucked into his palm as he scratched at his beard, he almost complied with the idea that he would just have to tough it out. Scrounging for parts was nearly impossible—dumb luck, really. In the past several years they’ve picked this town clean, bone-dry.

He’s elbow deep inside the barrel of the dryer when he hears the knock at his door, bumping his head against the rim of it as he exits and cursing under his breath as he pushes to stand, joints creaking and popping in disapproval. 

He can smell you before he sees you, the familiar scent of fresh-baked goods following you everywhere—Joel couldn’t feel guilt for being one of the folks addicted to your cooking. 

Grains had been hard to come by since the epidemic hit, everything was tainted on a global level. It took years and years of Jackson growing its own stock of wheat for things like pie or a nice, gooey cinnamon roll to even be plausible anymore. But, they were managing well so far.

“Saved ‘em for you and Ellie,” You tell him, a small plate of still hot brownies covered with parchment paper, dawning that trademark smile that Joel has come to love, tapping his fingers against the door frame as he passes the plate off to a quickly approaching Ellie.

“Girl’s got the nose of a basset hound,” Joel looks on in amused bewilderment as Ellie throws a mouth-stuffed thanks over her shoulder, “sorry ‘bout her.”

You wave her off whole-heartedly, taking in his sweaty appearance and casual attire. You were used to him in jeans and thick flannels, not a graphic tee and pair of sleep pants. He’s almost always dressed like he had to run at a moment's notice, you weren’t even sure he owned anything different until now.

“Everything good?” You question him, a small laugh escaping your throat.

“Damn washer and dryer is out again,” Joel explains, throwing a hand vaguely over his shoulder.

“Both of them this time?” You ask, “Damn.”

“I can fix ‘em, just a matter of finding the right parts,” Joel tells you, “ looks like I’m gonna have to hand wash again.”

Joel was a friend. You helped friends. It seemed like a no-brainer really, opening your mouth without thinking it through, the kindness tumbling out despite yourself.

“Oh, you’re welcome to load yours up at mine,” You offer and Joel looks immediately apprehensive, the southern charm and well-mannered tone gearing to creep up on you.

“Now, I don’t mean to make you feel like you have to—”

“Joel, I wouldn’t offer it if I didn’t feel comfortable with it,” You remind him, “seriously—anytime, just try and bring your own detergent—and for the love of god, empty your pockets before you put ‘em in.”

Joel chuckles tiredly at that, rolling his eyes as he nods in agreement.

“Got it, of course, sweetheart.”

“I leave an extra key under the rug, so if I’m ever not home just come in,” Given that Joel was Tommy’s brother, you knew he wouldn’t be up to any trouble, “sound good?”

“Yep. Anytime—just make myself at home.” Joel confirms and you nod with an even wider smile, waving a pleasant goodbye as you trailed down the stairs and made your way to the house you inhabited next door.

Right, anytime.

Unfortunately, Joel took that a little too literally.

-

Joel managed to scrounge up the courage a day later, tumbling into his house on tired legs after a lengthy patrol up at the cabin lookout, scooping the basket up in his arms and heading out his front door, taking the short walk to your house.

The lights were off, but that wasn’t unusual. Joel knew you liked to stay late nights in the town’s mess hall, often working on prep for the following morning to make the load a little lighter and sleep in a while longer, so when he fishes under the doormat for the key he thinks nothing of it.

And as the door swings open, it is still fairly quiet. Though, he can hear your own dryer running upstairs. He’s got the layout down too, having shared more than a few nightcaps with you. Friend to friend and nothing more, even if you had always felt a little more strongly toward being affectionate. A hug or a kiss on the cheek from time to time, he never pushed you away. Joel never seemed like the type of man who openly showed affection, even toward a friend. But, he was good, reliable–most of the time.

He reaches the stairs with trepidation as the sounds grow louder and part of him wonders if by some uncanny coincidence your dryer might be growling and rumbling on its own final leg. 

The moment his hand reaches that doorknob and turns he realizes he’s made a mistake.

He’s caught you at a…bad time. Head thrown back with your mouth hung wide, whatever noise you’re making was mostly drowned out by the nagging sound of the dryer as it tore through the spin cycle but he hears the tailend of it, a soft moan of pleasure from the man who’s buried inside of you right now, both of you naked from the waist down but your breasts on full display with your shirt tucked under your neck.

“Benny?” Joel asks, slightly amused.

You lift your head at the sound and spot him, your feet nearly slipping out from under you as you scramble to push Benny away, who perks with an even more perplexed, “Joel?”

“Goddamn it, Joel,” You curse behind gritted teeth, furiously readjusting yourself, pulling your sweats back on and over your ass and your shirt down, “What are you doing here?”

Joel looks down at the basket still clinging to his hip before back up at you, wordlessly.

You sigh through your nose with a tight lipped frown, cheeks puffing out as you brushed your fingers through your hair and down—Benny was still scrambling to redress behind you, unable to pull his gaze away from Joel.

“Benny?” Joel mouths at you quietly, eyebrows raised curiously.

You walk toward the now open door slowly as Benny buttons his pants and you shoot Joel daggers with your stern gaze.

Cut it out.

Joel smirks slightly, cheek dimpling with the action as he side-steps Benny, who leans around you and kisses your cheek—it was a kind gesture but given the situation, in horrible taste. You force a polite smile and once Benny is a far enough distance you hit Joel firmly in the arm as he passes by you and into the laundry room.

You walk Benny to the door with a million thoughts racing through your head, offering a distracted goodbye before you’re locking the door and racing back upstairs with determined footsteps and Joel has already loaded his clothes in the washer, turning the knob to set the load size and time.

“Benny?” He echoes his earlier questions, “Really?”

“What? Are you judging me?”

“No—just, that kid’s had quite an obsession with you for some time now. Just…surprised is all.”

Your lips pull together in a disapproving but nonchalant frown, taking his words for the bullshit they are.

“When I said anytime that did not extend to the middle of the night, Joel.”

“You’re usually still at work,” He supplies—and really, he’s not wrong, “M’sorry. I mean that.”

“Well, now I’ve gotta deal with the fact you’ve seen me naked,” You cross your arms over your chest and lean against the doorframe and Joel’s eyes track you for a moment, smiling with amusement at the thought.

“What? You want a fair trade?” Joel teases, “‘Cause, darlin’. I don’t mind—but it was an accident. Besides, ain’t nothin’ I haven’t seen before.”

He means it in a broader sense, but you can’t help the eye roll it induces. 

“No, no,” You chew at your bottom lip, watching Joel place the empty basket on top of the washer, “I can finish that up if you want to get some sleep. I know you had a long patrol today.”

“Oh, did you?”

He’s teasing you.

“Don’t push it, old man,” Joel shakes his head at that jab and chuckles, “Ellie clued me in when she picked up some sandwiches for her and Dina earlier.

He’s not going to pass on the offer, though. He nods, rubbing a hand over his tired face.

“Jesus—just…Benny?” Joel reiterates again, “Didn’t think the kid had it in ‘em.”

“Out,” You say with an over-pronunciation as you drag his slow and progressive steps further out of your laundry room and into the hall, “or you’re off my dessert list for a month, Miller.”

Joel smiles at you knowingly, “You wouldn’t dare,” He retorts, knowing you too well.

You wouldn’t make him suffer like that. Or Ellie, who wouldn’t hesitate to murder Joel if he robbed her of that pleasure. Not literally…but, she would carry a few choice words for him.

“Seriously, though, thank you,” He nods, leaning down to press a kiss into the crown of your head—an often familiar gesture when you parted after a long night of nonsensical talk and a couple glasses of wine or whiskey, depending on how hard the day had been, “I appreciate it, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, yeah—”

“And I do apologize for…not knocking and showin’ up at such a weird time.”

You shrug, “You’re forgiven. Just…don’t give Benny a hard time. He’s a good guy.”

“You’ve got my word, darlin’.”

Joel was determined to be on his best behavior, clearly.

-

It takes Joel a couple weeks to find the parts he needs and luckily there are no more run-ins on your midnight sex-scapades, still feeling the embarrassment from the first one. Joel doesn’t even seem to remember it after a couple days, thankfully. He was bypassing it for your own benefit, truthfully. And you knew that.

Selfishly, you're glad to have your appliances back to yourself. 

They’re good, solid, reliable—until they aren’t.

Your washer shits itself mid-load and you can hear it from downstairs. A loud screeching noise before an even louder pop that has you groaning loudly because you know. You can feel it.

You can’t even bring yourself to go check, peering through the window of your kitchen and catching a fresh pot of coffee in the house across from yours, a man coming into view and his stark white shirt contrasting the black coffee cup in his hands. He catches you out of the corner of his eye and looks at you with a quizzical amusement, smile tugging at his face.

Joel was always up before the sun rose, so with the sun just creeping into the sky you’re sure that’s his third or fourth cup of coffee. He reaches over his sink and fiddles with the latch on his window before heaving it up, watching as you struggled to do that same but eventually managed.

“You run outta coffee again?” He asks, sipping at the bitter, black coffee in his mug.

“No,” You reply quickly, slightly exasperated as you chew at your bottom lip, debating how to pop the question and feeling nervous under Joel’s intense gaze, curiously wondering if he’s still picturing you naked. He’s never explicitly mentioned it since, but you have caught him in the act.

Wandering eyes, gazes catching when your back is turned for half a second as you bend down or move in a way that exposes too much skin.

“My washer broke,” You cut to the chase and Joel chuckles at how comical it is, in hindsight.

Was this karma? It was definitely karma. 

You’ve never asked Joel for anything—despite your often bouts of kindness toward him you never expected anything in return, not even a favor.

“Doors open,” Joel nods toward his front door out of view, an invitation like you offered him.

You didn’t even hesitate, pushing the window close and bounding up the stairs.

-

You’re already loading your things into his washer before he appears around the corner, peeking his head in, coffee cup still in hand as he takes a few more steps and leans against the wall beside the washing machine and your eyes glance at him briefly before you continue moving the clothes, watching him watch you from behind the rim of his mug.

“I can start them and come back,” You tell him, “so I won’t be lingering around here all day.”

“No Benny?”

You stand up as you close the washer, deadpan stare pointed in his direction.

“You can be such a nosy neighbor, you know that?”

Joel shrugs, a smug smile covered behind his sip of coffee.

“It was just a few times. Besides he’s…too much for me.”

You turn the dial to start the load and it rumbles to life with a simple press of a button.

“You wanna talk about it?”

It wasn’t completely unnatural for you two—you knew quite a bit about Joel now: his life before, his work, his daughter…all things that come with trust and time. He’s waited patiently for you and you’ve given him peeks into your life, but nothing like this.

“It’s a long story, Joel.”

“Got time,” He smiles slightly, “I’ll go grab you a cup of coffee—sit down.”

You look around briefly, not a chair in sight. So, you raise yourself up just enough that you can slide your ass over the top of the washer, bare feet dangling off the floor and you wait, the subtle and quiet shake from the beginning of the load process keeping the awkward silence at bay.

Joel turns the corner a few minutes later with your cup, made up just to your liking and you nod with a gentle smile, taking the cup from his hand and allowing yourself a few generous sips.

“So—that night, you caught us,” You can laugh at the instances now, so you do in a soft, clipped manner, “it wasn’t the first—it had been a month by that point and he just caught me by surprise, showed up that night and things just got a little out of hand.”

Joel’s eyebrows raise in interest but he urges you to continue, leaning against the wall in front of you now, resting his mug on the shelf just above his head as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“He’s a good guy, don’t get me wrong—but I don’t do serious…I can’t, now with how things are. And I know a lot of people think the opposite, seize the moment and all that shit,” You sigh, a deep and heavy sound that expands and releases from your chest, “he was already talking about moving in, the idea of us having kids—so that night I just tried to distract him.”

“With sex? Seems a little…counter-productive, don’t you think?”

“Don’t judge me, Joel,” You warn him but it’s edged with a playfulness that Joel recognizes. You didn’t have a mean, deceptive bone in your body and Joel knew that from the first conversation he had with you.

“I needed him to shut up,” You groan at the thought of the conversation as it replays in your mind, “I’m trying to wash my clothes, he’s talking to me about babies. I do not want kids, Joel. Ever. At least none that are biologically mine. Who would want to bring a kid into this world?”

Well…Tommy. The thought comes to you after the words have already left your mouth and your heart sinks into your stomach, looking at Joel apologetically.

“Sweetheart, don’t even try to apologize. Ain’t nothing wrong with it.”

“It makes me sound horrible, I know but—”

“I’ve done my time—it’s none of my business how others choose to live. Besides, I’m pushing sixty, I don’t have to worry about all that…sorry, I’m not trying to be crude here.”

You nod knowingly with a smirk tugging at your lips, taking another sip of coffee before handing the mug off for him to place it next to his own, ready to slide off of the washer before Joel interjects with another question that catches you off guard.

“He treat you right, at least?”

You tilt your head with that same knowing smirk, pushing Joel away at his hip with your foot as he leans up from his position against the wall—Joel’s never flirted, always promptly skirted around the issue and went about it more gentlemanly. He’s not abrasive and straightforward like most of the men in Jackson, but damn did he know how to make you feel special.

Undivided attention, constant subtle compliments, giving up some much-needed sleep for a simple late night drink with you—part of you was too terrified to make your own move and make it clear just how badly you wanted just a small taste of him.

You’ve heard whispering, minimal talk from a few of the women in town. Joel didn’t often make his rounds but when he did, he left an impression. And you had every right to be jealous, because with him standing in front of you now—you knew it would be easy to say no and he would fix you right up, finally crossing that line that he’s been carefully dancing around for a few years.

“He’s a bit…timid,” You shrug, “and he doesn’t really…”

The air lingers and the side of Joel’s mouth pulls up—you don’t have to say it.

“Joel, don’t do that,” You shove at his shoulder as he approaches you, his hands pressing into the contraption you’re on, curled around the metal, “—he’s just…eager, but not in a good way.”

There’s a glint in Joel’s eye that leads you to believe he’s not thinking about Benny’s less than experienced sex life, feeling the sudden jitteriness from the coffee as your chest rises with a deep, shaky breath and Joel eyes the time over your shoulder.

Forty-five minutes and some change, plus the time to dry because Joel already knows you aren’t going to trouble yourself with walking the damp laundry through this cold, muggy weather.

“So, no then?” Joel asks.

He could have treated you better, sure. But, he wasn’t the worst.

But, the way Joel is staring at you knows makes everything and everyone dull in comparison.

You shake your head in agreement, chewing at the inside of your bottom lip as your hands fall to your lap, his hands ncreasingly closer to the tights covering your legs, suddenly feeling his thumb graze your hip. You both glance down at the action and your breathing halts, watching as his right hand slowly engulfs your thigh, fingers digging into the soft material and dimpling your skin underneath, his thumb only a few centimeters from dipping into the inside of your thigh.

They part on their own, welcoming Joel in wordlessly and his left hand echoes the other. His face is level with your own, staring down at your lips briefly before meeting your eyes and you’ve seen that look before—the adoration when he thought you weren’t watching, secretly you had become good at catching those glances, but Joel wasn’t trying to hide it now.

And it quickly dawns on you in the moment—he was jealous. Of Benny. Or really, any man that had come before him. But, he was using him as the scapegoat.

Honestly, you couldn’t even care.

“You want someone to treat you right?” He speaks softly and if you weren’t so close you wouldn’t have heard him, “I got you, sweetheart. I swear.”

He’s not looking at you anymore, eyes dragging down the bridge of your nose to your lips again. But, you are looking at him, flooded with that tricky feeling that creeps up on you when you want things you know you shouldn’t.

“Joel, I told you—I don’t do serious,” And you hold your breath for the response, wondering if that would send this moment crumbling to dust, but Joel doesn’t miss a step.

“Good for you,” Joel dotes, “neither do I.”

Then he’s on you, the press of his lips in a heated kiss sends you tumbling back, caught by the warm slide of his palm over your back to pull you in, throwing your arms over his shoulders as he pulls back briefly, just enough for you to open your mouth to speak, but his tongue finds its way inside and the words fade away.

Just friendly, my ass—you think.

If you had known he kissed like this—you would’ve jumped at the opportunity months ago; a night spent drinking too many glasses of wine and laughing over some movie far before your time, but not his. 

He was so entranced, giving you all the details, but you couldn’t help giggling over it, too touchy to be considered friendly.

You’d both cut it short quickly when Ellie popped in halfway through the movie, and beyond that, it never grew.

Until now.

“Sweet,” Joel notes with a subtle smile, his hand dwarfing the size of your neck as his fingers wrapped around the column of your throat, holding you firmly in place as he maneuvered you toward and away from the kiss as he pleased, swallowing every tiny moan that escaped your lips when his other hand squeezed at your thigh just a little too hard.

“All that sugar,” In your coffee, the taste lingering on your lips and he licks around them teasingly, pulling away briefly to look at you, your eyebrows raising in question as the gears turn in his head, “—you still with me?”

“I’m just wonderin’ if you’re okay with this,” Joel speaks candidly, his eyes trained on his thumb as it rubs against the middle of your throat, traveling up under your chin and tipping your head up slightly, watching as you swallowed, “before I take this further, jus’ need to know.”

You nod jerkily, not even a second of hesitation. 

“You would have known the moment you kissed me, Joel.”

In turn, Joel nods slowly before he speaks, stealing the air from your chest.

“Alright then, pull these down for me,” He tugs gently at the material clinging to your thighs before both of his hands find the spot behind your knees and tug until your feet hit the floor, “and push that pretty little ass out for me.”

The absurdity of this language on his tongue makes you giggle but abide in an instant, struggling slightly as the material bunches at your ankles and Joel helps you the rest of the way, tossing your pants aside before he’s kneeling despite how his body protests, too eager to give you a taste of the pleasure you deserve and he’s grabbing the cheeks of your ass and squeezing them between his hands before he’s leaning up to bite playful at the soft flesh.

He groans quietly against your skin, the press of his aquiline nose against your ass as his fingers fold around the string of your underwear and pull, dropping them down to your ankles and off and then his tongue is flat against the seam of your cunt, gasping as you fall forward and your own fingers clawing against nothing.

“Joel!” You squeak out as his fingers dig hard into your ass, forcing you up on your tiptoes as devours, licking into your cunt as it quivers around his tongue. 

Your hand pressed against the wall in front of you to keep your chest from hitting the washer, feeling your pussy tighten around the finger that enters alongside his expert tongue, a soft groan erupting out of him from behind you. That smug motherfucker was attempting a teasing huh under his breath as he busied himself with the task of eating you out from the back and you couldn’t even think straight. 

‘C’mon, baby,” He coos between his alternating licks and slurps of the heady slick that dripped from your cunt, “come all over my mouth, let me taste that sugar.”

It’s absurd, the way he’s speaking to you now. Your eyes squeeze shut as his thumb finds your clit amongst the chaos of his tongue and fingers, face heating up at how noisy your cunt sounded over the dull shake of the washer and Joel’s satisfied moans, occasionally massaging at the back of your thigh when your legs shake with the creeping feeling of your impending orgasm.

“Oh,” You squeal, reaching behind you to dig your fingers into his hair, panting out in desperation, “—fuck, don’t stop! Joel, right—right there,” and then glance you take back at him, his eyes peeking open from his position below, on his knees and dutiful to you and you alone, well…

It sends you tumbling over the edge as his thumb rubs over your clit quickly, soothing you through the aftermath as he laps up the mess you’ve made all over yourself, dragging his tongue along the inside of your thigh because if you knew anything about Joel, he didn’t waste a meal. 

And you were just about the finest he’s tasted.

You clear your throat as you rest your feet flat on the floor, feeling the faint quake in your legs as Joel rises slowly, forcing you to swallow down a giggle as he winces and he can see it on your face.

“Worth it,” He excuses himself, “don’t look at me like that.”

“No old man jokes?” You sound sad and Joel can’t believe it.

He shakes his head.

But, the smile that breaks out on your face quickly diminishes any comeback he has.

You begin to push him away with a hand gripped in his shirt, carefully avoiding the obvious bulge in his sweats as you reach for your tights, ready to redress and drop to your own knees as a favor but his fingers are wrapping around your wrist, pulling your attention back to him.

“I meant it,” Joel tells you, tilting his head to catch your gaze.

You smile wide and tilt your head to mirror him, “I think you proved your point—Benny is a pathetic man who doesn’t know how to make me come, blah blah…”

“My job ain’t done if you’re still thinkin’ about him, darlin’.”

His eyebrows raise in challenge.

Okay, you’re game.

Wordlessly you allow the hands at your hip that guide you toward the front of the joined appliances, his fingers sliding under your top until you get the hint to pull it off, your breasts bouncing free from the shirt—the few bras you had were already in the wash, big deal.

Joel chuckles and stops for a moment, admiring the sight of your breasts for the second time that month, albeit more openly this time. He reaches forward and rubs his thumb along your nipple, watching the nub harden under his touch and you bite at your bottom lip, eye fluttering closed at how sensitive they were to touch, something other men never took the time to notice.

“You like that?” Joel asks with a creeping grin.

You nod, watching as he squeezed your tits in his hands, showing your nipples ample attention as he circled them with his thumb before leaning down slightly and swiping his tongue over the hardened nubs, sucking your breast into his mouth and his eyes peer up, gauging your reaction which quickly developed from a soft giggle to a loud moan.

“Clothes,” You breath out, “off—if you still have a point to prove.”

A point that you wanted proven. Hard.

Joel pulls away and yanks his shirt over his head, allowing you an unobscured view of the mix of muscled shoulders and his softened stomach, running your hand over the patch of hair at the center of his chest and down, right along his hips until his own fingers hook around the fabric and pull his sweats and boxers down in one motion, his cock catching against the edge of his waistband before it bobs back up toward his stomach.

You find yourself smiling despite yourself, forgetting for a moment that Joel was standing there and watching you, feeling your mouth water at the sight of him hard and leaking at how just getting a small taste of you had turned him on that much, precum leaking slowly from the tip and he wraps his hand around himself, other hand tapping at your chin to drag your attention back up to his face, reminding you he was still there.

“Got somethin’ on your mind, sweetheart?”

You shake your head furiously, “No, no—no, nothing. Just, uh—”

“I’ll start slow,” He tells you and with the size of him, thick and girthy in ways you’ve only imagined or pictured in your head, it’s daunting, “are you still alright with all of this?”

Your face softens and you nod, appreciating the repeated check-ins, the need for confirmation, but it pulls at your heart as you wonder why he feels the need to ask so much. As if he was fearful you would change your mind on a dime—Joel was fine with that, but he was more worried about the change in dynamic. Thankfully, you were determined for that not to be the case.

“I’m pretty tough,” You shrug, a playful smile gracing your face.

Joel nods absently as his fingers drag along your waist before catching behind your knee and pulling it up over his hip, both of your eyes dragging down to his cock as he tugged at himself a few times, his brow furrowed as he spread your lips apart with the head, dipping his hips down slightly to catch against your hole before he pushes in slow, one solid stroke that steals the sound from your throat and transfers to his own. Joel groans out softly as he pushes into you, his hands gravitating toward your face and wrapping around the sides of your neck, tilting your head back to mouth at your skin, his tongue dragging along your collarbone before sucking and nipping gently at your skin.

“Don’t I know it,” Joel responds after a while, “find something to hold onto.”

Your soft giggle of excitement shoots down to your core and your fingers wrap around the edges of the washer and Joel pulls back swiftly before he’s snapping his hips back into you before repeating the process several times, the jolt of the machine hitting the concrete wall behind you drowned out by your loud moans, quickly swallowed up by Joel’s lips as he pulls your mouth to his, breathing into it with every sharp snap of his hips.

“Harder,” You beg, biting at his bottom lip as he groans, using his fingers intertwined into the hair at the nape of your neck now to pull your head back and he pulls his hips back quick, bottoming himself out inside of you so forcefully you feel like your legs might give out, his cock rubbing against your already too sensitive g-spot and continuously finding a way to bring you closer and closer to the edge, “fuck—yes, yes. Joel, oh my god—”

“Yeah,” Joel goads you, his eyes drawn closed as he tries to keep his own orgasm at bay, “give it to me, baby—wanna watch you make a mess on my cock, alright?”

Easy, you laugh airily and feel the instinctive squeeze of your walls around Joel’s cock as he pulls your face to his, foreheads pressed against each other as he angles his hips back and slams into you one last time before you come undone, head falling back in a similar position to how he caught you a few weeks ago, this time for him. 

Your grab for his shoulders suddenly, blunt fingernails digging into his skin and he takes a few harsh breaths through his nose before he’s pulling out, hand grasping his cock as he jerked himself a few seconds before he comes in thick, short spurts against your stomach, squeezing at the head of his cock as he drags it through the mess he’s made.

His expression is nothing short of mesmerizing, mouth hung open just enough that his tongue can drag over his bottom lip before his teeth are taking its place, eyes drawn to your skin.

Wordlessly, he pulls away on his own pair of shaky legs as he reaches for his wrinkled, worn shirt and brings it to your stomach, cleaning up the mess with a faint smile on his face.

“You know, I think it might take me a bit to fix my washer,” You tease, “so—I might be over here bothering you for a while.”

Joel peers up at you, his head still tucked down as he wiped at your stomach.

“Fine with me.”

Then he’s peering over your shoulder, watching as the washer time inched toward zero, dinging behind you. You turn around, letting your leg fall from his hip finally, ass brush against him in the process and Joel can’t help the way his eyes refuse to leave the sight of it.

Only feeling slightly guilty when you catch him this time, not giving him the pass you usually do.

“We’ve still got about an hour left if I dry them here,” You tell him, “anything else you wanna prove?”

Joel’s tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek, eyes dragging up toward the upper level of his house before flicking back toward you, a smile plastered on your face.

“I can think of a few things.”

divider creds: @/cafekitsune

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 15: Bonnie

Summary: Your heat is over and your pack has moved on with their lives, settling back into the familiar routine. Except, some things have begun to change, and you're not entirely sure if its for the better.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7456 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, oral, handjobs, overstimulation, P in V sex, unprotected sex, creampie, hair pulling, switch Johnny, Johnny's lingerie kink, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, mention of nightmares, brief talk about killing and violence, insomnia, fluff, and of course a bit of angst

A/N: This chapter was an absolute bitch to write. I'm not kidding this was a nightmare. I'm happy with the changes I've made though, and how things are progressing. We've made a little bit of a time jump here, but not much. I think I'm getting sick so, posting the chapter before I inevitably pass out again. Oh, and Happy Easter everyone that celebrates.

Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

Your eyes fly open as the alarm blares. They burn as you squint against the bright phone light. An arm reaches over you, the warm skin sliding against your back as he fumbles to turn off the offending noise. 

You let out a quiet groan as you catch the numbers dictating the time on the screen before the phone is placed back on the nightstand. “‘S too early.” You grumble, rubbing at your crusty eyes. 

“Go back to sleep.” John murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before he shifts, climbing over you to get out of the bed. He tucks the blankets back around you before slipping into the bathroom. 

You won't go back to sleep. The last time you'd glanced at the time on your phone had been two hours ago, at 2 A.M. You’ve been awake most of the night, as you have been the last couple nights. You haven't been sleeping well. It was like your heat opened a floodgate and now every time you close your eyes, you're transported back into the past, back when you were a child. Back when things weren't fine. 

You've started trying to avoid sleep, waking constantly during the night from nightmares or from your brain’s own fear of them starting back up. It’s only been a week since your heat ended, and yet you feel no more rested than you did coming out of it. Nothing you’ve tried has worked, not even staying awake until you inevitably pass out prevents your subconscious mind from pulling up the horrible memories of your past. 

Even sleeping next to your alpha hasn’t provided any comfort for your mind. His presence isn’t enough to quell the fear in your mind that the nightmares might come back, that the memories might surface. 

Even he can’t protect you from this. 

You close your eyes as the bathroom door opens again, pretending to sleep as John dresses for his morning workout. He’s quiet, near silent as he moves about the room. It’s almost terrifying how quiet they can be. Though, you suppose, if your survival depends on it, it’s a skill you’d spend plenty of time honing. 

John grabs his phone from the nightstand, running a gentle hand over your head before he leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind him. You lay there for a few minutes, trying not to let the guilt eat you alive. You should tell them you’re struggling to sleep, that your mind is plaguing you with memories from your past, but you’re afraid of what they might think of you. You’re not the perfect omega, you’re not as whole as you might seem. 

You’re held together with duct tape on the inside. They already have enough to worry about now, they don’t need the weight of your misery thrown on top of the loads they all carry. 

You let out a long breath, turning over in John’s bed. You press your face into the pillow, inhaling the imprint of his scent on the fabric. It’s still warm where he was laying, and you shuffle over into that spot, letting your body go lax as you imagine him still there with you, arms still wrapped around your body. You want to bury yourself in his arms, press against his chest until you sink into him and become one. 

Only then, perhaps you can feel safe enough to sleep. 

You press your face further into the pillow, every inhale filled with John’s scent. It lulls you into a daze, the hypnagogic stage between sleep and wakefulness. 

You jolt as a hand touches your arm, calluses smoothing over the bare skin. You blink your eyes open, letting out a quiet groan. It’s light outside now, the room bathed in white light instead of the yellow tinge of the nightlight John had bought for his room for you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” John says, gently squeezing your arm. He’s already dressed for the day, hair still damp from the shower. You hadn’t even noticed he’d returned. 

You roll over, rubbing your eyes. “‘S fine. Didn’t even know I was asleep. Breakfast time?” 

John hums, leaning over you. “Almost. You’ve got time to get ready.” 

You blink up at him blearily, your mind still trying to wake up completely after your short nap. You stare up into his eyes, getting lost in their blue depths. You feel like you could swim in them, his deep earthy scent drawing forward memories of camping and swimming in the lake. Memories you could pretend were happy, memories not tainted by fear and grief. 

“Christ,” He breathes, pressing his lips to yours. “So fucking beautiful.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, your lips moving against his as you kiss. You trail a hand up his arm, sliding it to his back. His shirt is soft, thin enough that you can feel the muscles in his back as you smooth your hand across his shoulder blades. 

“Wish I could stay here all day.” He murmurs, his face pressing into your throat. You tilt your head for him, a quiet groan rumbling through his chest at your sign of submission. He sighs, pressing his nose against your scent gland for a moment before he straightens back up. “Got a job to do.” 

You let out a groan as you stretch, arching your back. “Fuck your job.” 

“I’d much rather be fucking you.” He says, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip before he stands up, grabbing the shirt you’d worn to slip into his room last night off the floor. It’s one of his, one you’d stolen from his laundry hamper while he was in the shower. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that.” 

You grin, pushing the sheets down before sitting up on the edge of the bed. You rub your eyes tiredly, stretching again before pulling on his shirt, slipping your slippers on. You pad back to your room, changing into more appropriate clothes for breakfast. You’ll be left to your own devices again afterward as the guys return to their normal training schedule. You won’t be napping this time, though, you fear. Instead you’ll be looking for ways to keep yourself awake. 

You and John walk hand in hand to the mess. It’s been a while since you’ve been inside of it, and you find you’ve grown to miss it a bit. You don’t miss the stares, the looks that pass over you and your entwined hands as John leads you to the line to get food. It’s like they know, like they all somehow witnessed what had transpired over the last couple weeks, like they had all been spectators to it. 

John makes your tray for you again, carrying it to the table where the others are already seated. You take your normal spot next to Kyle, both him and John sitting closer to you than before. Perhaps they were picking up on your nervous energy, but even Johnny and Ghost seemed to be sitting closer. You cast a glance between them before digging into your tray. Something had transpired, but you’re not quite sure what. 

You might never get to know. 

It’s quiet as you eat, the coffee bitter and watery, but you don’t care. You’ll suffer anything that might give you a boost of energy to make it to lunch without falling asleep. 

Johnny walks you back to the barracks after breakfast is over, his arm around your waist as you take your time crossing the courtyard. He’s oddly quiet compared to how energetic he usually is this early in the morning. Something must have happened to make him silent. 

“Johnny?” You ask after a group of soldiers jog past behind you. 

He hums, looking down at you. His eyes are still bright, but his brows are slightly furrowed. 

“Is everything alright?” You ask carefully, not wanting to risk pushing any buttons. 

“Aye.” He answers after letting out a sigh. “Jus’ an incident in the gym this mornin’. Nothing ye need tae worry about.” 

You raise your brows at him, silently conveying your desire for more information, if he can give you any. 

“Just some alphas talkin’ shite, like they do. Callin’ ye the 141’s whore. Askin’ if we all take turns or if ye let us all go at once.” He says, his tone practically seething as he leads you into the barracks. “Simon reminded them of their place.” 

You can only imagine how that went. 

Despite their obvious tension at the jabs made at you by the other alphas, you don't feel as angry as you probably should. Being called a whore was a bit demeaning, but part of what was said wasn't entirely wrong. Perhaps it's just some leftover hormones surging from your heat, or maybe being claimed has shifted your feelings towards your packmates, but the idea of being shared by them has warmth spreading through you. The mental images piecing together in your mind of taking them all at once would probably make the alphas that made that jab at you blush furiously. 

“Johnny?” You ask, turning to him when you reach your door. 

“Aye?” He stares down at you, his blue eyes soft as they gaze down into your own. 

“I, uh, I wouldn’t mind if at least part of what they said was true...” You sink your teeth into your lip. “You...uh...you’ve been waiting for a while...for your turn.” 

He gulps, shifting slightly on his feet. You can’t tell if he’s nervous or excited or something in between. 

“Well, I’ve been officially cleared to partake in more...strenuous activities..” 

“Christ.” He breathes, crowding you against the door. For a moment you’re worried he might just do it right here, right now, but instead he leans in, close enough you can smell the coffee he had with his breakfast. “I’d love that, kitten.” He bites his own lip as he stares down at yours. “Let me know, and I’ll be ready for you.” He leans down, closing the short distance between you as he kisses you. 

You lean into him, kissing him back. It feels like the first time you kissed him, except you can feel the hunger, the restraint behind this kiss. You can feel how much he’s been holding back, how long he’s waited to finally have this moment. To think of anyone desiring you in such a way makes your head spin. He wants you for you, not what you can do for him, not what you can give to him. Not even just for what’s between your legs, even if that’s what you’re going to do. 

He wants to be with you because you’re you. He doesn’t have to, he could choose not to, but he does. 

He pulls away, staring down at you. His eyes are darker now, speaking promises of what’s to come. “When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.” 

“You're tired.” 

You blink, your gaze snapping to his face. You had been drifting thoughtlessly, quite enamored with a single spot on the floor. You're not sure how long he let you stand there, empty-headed and practically dozing upright. 

You rub your eyes, trying to force your brain back to awareness. “It's early.” You give the excuse, toeing off your shoes. “Been a while since we've done this.”

“You're going to have to work extra hard to gain it all back.” Ghost says, pulling off his sweatshirt. 

Your eyes are immediately drawn to his arms, the strength in them, the tattoos on his skin. You bite back the desire to move closer, to get just a glimpse at one close up. You want to sit and trace them, hear the story of every single one. You want to push his sleeve up, watch the way his muscles bulge and flex, see how far his tattoo goes up his arm. 

You snap yourself out of your thoughts, moving onto the mat before you do something embarrassing like starting to drool. You watch him as he stands at the edge of the mat, brown eyes taking you in as you stand there. Something tickles in the back of your mind, a hint of fear, the sense of sudden danger prevalent. What would you do if he suddenly ran at you? Try to dodge and make it to the door? Where would you go? The med center again? 

“Easy.” He grumbles, sensing your obvious tension.

Your gaze snaps back to him, his posture relaxed as he stays still. “I'm putting a lot of trust in you.”

“I know.” He says, standing almost as still as a statue. You wonder how he can possibly be so still, but you suppose it's something he learned to do. “I should never have broken that trust in the first place.”

Your eyes widen, brows lifting as you stare at him. You didn't expect such a straightforward apology from him. You haven't really gotten one, until now. You hesitate as you stand there in silence, Ghost obviously waiting for your response. 

“I don't know if I can forgive you.” You finally say. 

“You shouldn't.” He shrugs, his gaze shifting to the wall behind you. “Even if you weren't really in danger, it was still a dick move.”

Your eyebrows raise even higher. “An apology and admitting you were a dick? Should I be worried?”

He huffs out a breath, shaking his head. “Consider it an offering of amicability, for Johnny. I know you two are getting close, so inevitably we're going to find ourselves around each other more often than we have previously.”

“Well, I suppose I could accept that.” You say, shifting on your feet. “I don't think you could convince Johnny otherwise.”

“Hardly. He wouldn't listen anyway.” He finally moves, shifting on his feet. “You gonna put your hackles down so I can approach?”

You take a deep breath, relaxing the tension in your body. You don't really have a reason to fear him, despite what he did. He hasn't given you a reason to fear him since then, and he's even gone so far as to apologize in his own way. John wouldn't have allowed this to start again if he didn't trust Ghost not to do something that might put you in danger. 

John trusts him, so you should be able to as well. 

Ghost slowly approaches, your eyes watching him carefully until he's directly in front of you. You stare up at him, holding his gaze. You wish you could see the rest of his face on the off chance it might give you a hint at what he's thinking and feeling. You wonder if that's partially why he wears the mask. 

Ghost holds out his hand and you place your own in his. It's so much bigger than yours, his long fingers engulfing your wrist as he wraps your hand. You could probably do it yourself by this point, but you like making him do it. You like the way his hands hold yours, the roughness of his skin against your own. 

He starts out reviewing things you already know. Punches, kicks, dodging. It doesn't take long for you to get back into the groove of things, moving like it hasn't been nearly a month since your last training session. You notice the fatigue faster than you had during your last session, but you expected that after almost a month, paired with your heat two weeks ago. 

“Now, punching and kicking will only get you so far in a fight.” He says, giving you a moment to breathe. “Almost all fights are going to end up on the ground. Even if your goal is disarming enough to escape, the chances of you and your opponent ending up on the ground is highly likely.” 

He swipes your feet out from under you before you can even blink, nearly knocking the wind from you as you land on the mat on your back. He’s on you quickly, dropping to his hands and knees over you. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him above you, his hulking form seeming even larger from this angle. Your mind begins to run wild, imagining all the things that could happen in this position. 

“Focus.” He grumbles, arms flexing as he presses his hands into the mat where they rest on either side of your head. “You don’t want to be in this position in a fight. You’re too vulnerable.” 

A shiver runs down your spine at his words. You are vulnerable like this. Even with him, someone who doesn’t want to hurt you, it would be so easy. Your head begins to turn, your gaze leaving his as instinct begins to take over. 

“No.” He snaps, gripping your chin to turn your head back so he’s looking in your eyes. “You do that in a fight, you’re not going to see the other side.” 

You gulp, trying to ignore the warmth of his fingers on your face, the firmness of his grip as he keeps you from showing submission to him. That’s not why you’re here. He’s right. If you do that in a fight, it’ll be over before you even have a chance to run. 

“Your legs are far stronger than your arms. Use them to your advantage.” He says, showing you how to get him into the right position to flip him. 

You know he’s helping you as you flip him onto his back. If he really was fighting you, you’re not sure you could have done it, even if you managed to land enough of a hit to disarm him. You wind up on top of him, sitting on his stomach. The position doesn’t help your racing thoughts, and you pray you can keep enough control over yourself so you don’t make it obvious. 

“Use your legs to pin my hands.” He directs you. You shift your knees slightly, trapping his hands against the mat. “Good.” He says, laying still under you. “You can’t hold a bigger opponent down here for long, but that’s not the point. This gives you a moment of opportunity to go for the face or the neck. Stun them and that gives you a headstart. If you have a weapon available, then you have one less person to worry about chasing you.” 

You gulp at his words. It hadn’t even crossed your mind during your training. He had said it so simply, so easily. You suppose it is to him, after years of doing it, after countless moments where it’s his life or theirs. Is that what he tells himself? Is that how he rationalizes it? Is there so much blood on his hands now that killing is as easy as breathing? 

You wonder how they all rationalize it. They all have blood on their hands, they all have killed, and will kill again. Every time they leave and come back, it’s with more blood, more nameless faces on the list of lives they've taken, all in the name of the greater good. 

Is violence and death really the path to the greater good? 

“What?” He asks, sensing your inner turmoil. 

You sit back on his stomach, your body rising and falling with his even breaths. “I don’t know if I could do it.” 

He tugs his hands from beneath your knees easily, resting them on the mat next to your legs. You can feel his fingers twitch as the blood rushes back into them. “You might not have much of a choice.” He says, holding your gaze. There’s a softness in his gaze you have never seen before. “Sometimes it’s the only choice. If they’re attacking you, they’re better off dead. Even if their goal is to take you alive, the things they’ll do to you.” He shakes his head. 

He’s speaking from experience. You know he’s seen things, witnessed the brutality omegas are subjected to at the hands of the worst kinds of alphas and betas. He’s watched omegas die in front of him while he’s sat helpless.

His hand lifts, cupping the back of your head to pull you down closer to his face. You catch yourself with your hands on either side of his head, fighting the urge to tense your shoulders. His hand doesn’t move from the back of your head, his fingers not even twitching as he holds you steady. 

“If they’re willing to do it to you, how many others have been on the receiving end? If you’re not willing to be the last, how many others will come after you?” He says, his gaze intense as he stares at you. “I hope you never have to, but you always have to prepare for the worst.” 

He holds you there for a breath, staring up into your eyes before he releases you, flipping you off of him and onto your back on the mat. He pushes himself up to stand, staring down at you as you lay there, catching your breath and thinking over the last few moments that transpired. 

“Come on. It’s almost time for breakfast.” 

It’s quiet in the rec room. The TV is off for once, only the hum of electricity and the occasional turning of a page the only sound breaking the silence. You and Ghost are the only two in the rec room, both of you relaxing silently as you read. He’s in the chair as usual, and you’re stretched out on the couch. 

You’re only halfway paying attention to your book, still thinking over your conversation with Johnny earlier, and what transpired in the gym during your training session yesterday. You know how much Johnny wants to be with you, and you're more than willing to go that far with him. You like Johnny, more than just as a packmate. It's hard not to fall for him with his confidence and his playful demeanor. You know he's been desperate to take things to the next level too. 

All he's waiting on is you saying the word. 

He will never force you into it. He'll impatiently wait for you to go to him, to tell him that you want it. All jokes and teasing aside, you know he'd never make you feel like you were being forced into something. 

The thought makes you want to cry. 

“Pull his hair.” Ghost’s voice cuts through the silence, nearly making you jump. 

You lower your book so you can see him, eyebrows raising in surprise at his words. “What?” 

“When you finally fuck Johnny, grab him by the mohawk. He likes it.” Ghost says, not even looking up from his own book. 

You stare at him wide-eyed, wondering for a moment if he can read minds, or if you’re just not quite as subtle as you think you’re being. 

“I'll, uh, keep that in mind.” You say, lifting your book again to hide your blushing face. 

The room descends into silence once more, the two of you continuing to read as if nothing had happened, as if that conversation hadn’t transpired. You wish it felt that way in your mind, though. The mental images Ghost’s words have drawn up drowning out the words on the pages that you’re trying to read. You’re trying not to get worked up further, but you can’t help it. After your training session and the thoughts that had come to mind with Ghost, and now these new images of Johnny, you’re sure your scent has begun to sweeten with arousal. 

You need to rectify this, and fast. 

You knock on the door, shifting nervously on your feet. Your hands have disappeared in your sleeves, the weight of your phone in your pocket the only thing keeping you from floating to the ceiling and dissipating into the air from the anxiety. 

Your stomach nearly drops from your body as the door swings open, Gaz standing there in his full glory. 

“Everything alright?” He asks, staring down at you with those big brown eyes. “You look nervous.”

You swallow the nerves, nodding in response. “Yeah, I just...wanted to talk to you for a minute.” 

He steps away from the door, brows still pinched in worry and confusion as he motions for you to enter. You brush past him as you step into his room, taking a look around. You haven't been in his room before. It's slightly smaller than yours and John's, and it doesn't have a private bathroom. There's artwork up on the walls, and a couple of plants on his desk, along with a few personal belongings. It's neat and tidy, not that you expected anything less. 

“What did you want to talk about?” He asks, turning to face you after closing the door. 

You take a deep breath, calming the nervous twist in your stomach. You shouldn’t be nervous. It’s a natural thing to bring up to packmates. You blame it on the fatigue from your lack of sleep putting you on edge.

“I wanted to ask you something.” You start, staring into his big brown eyes. They’re so beautiful, so expressive as they stare down at you. “Johnny and I...we’re going to...sleep together soon and...I just wanted to make sure that was okay? In case maybe you wanted to go first?” 

Kyle’s lips slowly lift up into a smile as you stare at him nervously, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “He’s been an absolute tosser since before your heat, and he’d only become utterly unbearable if he didn’t get to go first.” He steps up closer to you, grinning down at you. “For the sake of everyone’s sanity, I don’t mind being patient. Besides,” He leans down, his breath fanning your ear. “I at least know what you look like naked, so I can occupy myself while I wait.” 

Your face burns with warmth at his words, a shiver running down your spine. He’s not wrong. He’s seen you at your most vulnerable, lost to your heat, naked and stuffed with John’s knot. Your brain flashes back to the start of your heat, the feel of his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your pajama pants. You swallow thickly, meeting his gaze as he pulls back. 

“Enjoy your time with Johnny, love.” He slips his hand into yours, lifting it to his lips. He presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, lips brushing your skin as he speaks. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you’re ready.” 

You feel a bit out of breath as you leave Kyle’s room, and you’re sure your scent has sweetened with arousal and excitement. You might have been tempted to just jump Kyle’s bones right now, had it not been for your desire for Johnny, and your commitment to letting him be first again. You know Kyle’s right. You’d never hear the end of it if Johnny didn’t get the chance to be next in line. 

Now you just have to find him and tell him the good news. 

“Ye look nervous. Are ye nervous?” 

“I mean, this is a big step...” You say, wrapping your arms around Johnny’s neck as he shifts you into his lap. You try not to think about how strong he is, how easily he moves you. 

“Ye don’t have tae do this, if ye don’ want to.” He says, looking down into your eyes. 

“It’s not that...” You say, shifting in his lap. “It’s more...there’s no going back after this.” 

He wraps his arms tighter around you. “If I didnae want it, I wouldnae offer. Yer a fucking stunnin’ omega, kitten. Would be crazy not tae want ye.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, your gaze dropping from the intensity of his own. His stubble tickles your fingers as you trace the line of his jaw, working your way towards his lips. His tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip as your fingers trace the jagged scar on his chin. 

“Just...go easy on me? At least this first time?” You say, tracing his lips with your fingers. 

“‘Course, kitten.” He says, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. “Wouldnae want to scare ye away.” 

Your eyes widen slightly at the implications of his words, your stomach fluttering with excitement and a hint of fear at what he could possibly be alluding to. His hand lifts, gently grasping your chin, tilting your face slightly. He closes the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours. 

“Don’ worry.” He murmurs against your lips. “Take good care of ye.” 

You hum against his lips, tasting the chocolate he’d been snacking on when you sought him out as his tongue slips into your mouth. His hand leaves your chin, sliding down your throat to rest right at the base of your throat, fingers splayed across your clavicle. His thumb rests right on the edge of your mating mark, the pressure making you shiver. 

Johnny pulls you tighter against his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck. He moans against your lips as you shift against him, the bulge in his pants pressing against your ass. It’s not the first time you’ve felt it, but this time it’s different. This time you’re going to do something about it. 

“Fucking christ, take ye right here on this couch, if I’m not careful.” Johnny groans, nipping at your bottom lip. 

“Then best take me to bed, Sergeant.” You say, pulling back slightly to give him what you hope is a sultry look. 

The groan that’s pulled from his lips is downright salacious, something flashing in his eyes as you call him by his rank. He curses, tightening his hold around you before he stands, maneuvering you so you’re tossed over his shoulder. You let out a squeak of surprise that’s quickly replaced by giggles as he packs you down the hall to his room. 

He sets you on your feet once you're inside, closing the door. You look around his room, surprised to see it full of art supplies with drawings and paintings all over the walls. You stare open mouthed, taking it all in. It's messier than John and Kyle's rooms, though there's still a sense of order to it. A chaotic order, but you suppose that explains Johnny perfectly. 

“You draw?” You say, studying the art on the walls.

“Aye,” Johnny says, coming up behind you. “In my free time.”

“I didn't know that.” A small smile tugs at your lips. “They're beautiful.”  

“Thank ye, kitten.” He wraps his arms around you from behind, reminding you of why you came in here in the first place. “Not quite as beautiful as you.”

Your face warms at his compliment and you tilt your head back, staring up at him. “You're such a charmer.” 

“Try my best.” He grins, leaning down and kissing your forehead. “Promise I'll show ye my drawings later.”

You turn in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck. “I know. You're desperate.”

“Been waitin’ weeks for this, kitten.” He groans, grinding against you. 

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours. You tighten your grip around his neck, jumping into his arms. He manages to catch you, stumbling half a step back as his hands grip your thighs. You wrap your legs around his waist, lifting yourself so you’re face to face with him. 

“Christ.” He groans against your lips, walking forward until he reaches his bed.

He drops you on your back, your body bouncing on the mattress as he settles on his knees over you. His eyes have darkened as he stares down at you, your stomach twisting in excitement. Warmth has started to pool between your legs, your scent sweetening with arousal. 

Johnny’s hands are rough as they slip under your shirt, tugging it up over your head. He groans, eyes fluttering as he realizes you’re without a bra underneath. He curses quietly, something you can’t quite understand as his hands immediately close around your breasts. Your lips part as he squeezes the flesh in his hands, leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth. You gasp at the sensation as his lips close around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he’s a man starved. 

Well, you suppose he is. 

He has been waiting for quite a while for this opportunity. Something about it makes your brain tingle, arousal pooling in your stomach at the thought of someone desiring you that much. 

It’s not just him, though. Three of the four members of your pack have expressed their desire for you in such a way. The thought makes your head spin. You’re just a simple omega, and yet, here they are going half crazy over you. 

Johnny releases your nipple with a pop, shifting so he can give the same attention to the other one. Arousal continues to pool between your legs, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. You drag your fingernails across the back of his neck, a shiver wracking through his body, his hips grinding down against your thigh. 

“Fuck,” He gasps, releasing your nipple to stare up at you.

You repeat the motion, dragging your fingers slower. His eyes roll back, hips grinding harder against your thigh. He’s so sensitive, you think, pushing your thigh up against him. He lets out what can only be described as almost a whine, rutting his hips against your leg. 

“Fuck,” He curses again, pushing himself back up onto his knees. “Tonight is about you, kitten.” He takes a deep breath before slipping his fingers under the waistband of your pants, tugging them down quickly and tossing them on the floor next to your shirt. 

He sinks his teeth into his lip as he stares down at your panties, one of the pairs he got you on your shopping trip before your date with John. You had changed into them specifically for Johnny, remembering how excited he’d looked when he bought you five pairs of the lacy garments. He groans quietly as he runs his fingers over your lace covered skin, slowly lowering his fingers between your thighs. He glances up at you, meeting his gaze and you give him a nod before his fingers dip lower, trailing the wet spot on the lacy fabric. 

You part your legs more for him as he rubs you through your panties, quiet moans leaving your lips at the feeling of the friction from the fabric. His eyes are still on you, glued to your face as the pleasure begins to build just from his touch. You buck your hips against his hand, searching out more. More pleasure, more of his touch, more of him. 

“Look at ye, needy little thing.” He groans, his thumb dragging up your slit until he finds your clit, slowly circling it through the fabric. “Barely touched ye an’ yer cunt’s already soakin’ yer skids. Fucking sweet little thing, so needy for me, aren’t ye?” 

You push yourself up onto your elbows, staring down at him. “Are you going to sit there and run your mouth all night, or are you going to fuck me?” 

He grins wickedly at you. “I’m just gettin’ started, kitten.” 

He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee before trailing kisses up your inner thigh. His thumb continues to stroke you through your panties, applying more and more pressure as he gets closer and closer to your center. He whispers out a curse as he shoves your panties to the side, revealing your glistening folds to him. He leans forward, warm breath fanning your slit before he closes his mouth around you. 

You gasp at the sensation, dropping back onto your back on the bed as he drags his tongue through your folds, flicking it across your clit before he closes his lips around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he did your nipples earlier. Pleasure shoots through you as he eats you like a man starved, slurping away at your pussy obscenely. 

“Fuck, Johnny!” You gasp, legs trying to close around his head, but he holds your inner thighs, keeping them spread. 

You’re not going to last very long, not with him alternating between sucking at your clit and swirling his tongue around it like that. He’s done this before, and you can’t help the momentary spike of jealousy at the thought of him between any other omega’s thighs now that he has you. 

“Gonna cum!” You whine, hips bucking against his face. 

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess all over my face?” He groans. 

You curse, your back arching as he continues to work you up, hands fisting his sheets. 

“That’s it.” He groans against your clit, dragging his teeth over the sensitive bud. “Be a good omega for me.” 

You cum with a cry, soaking his chin as he continues to tease you. He laps at your juices, not slowing any as he works you through your orgasm, even as you begin to shake with overstimulation. 

“I-I can’t.” You gasp, the burning feeling starting to pulse through you as he continues to suck at your clit. It’s quickly becoming too much, the feeling overwhelming you. 

Ghost’s words flash through your mind at that moment, his suggestion yesterday while you both spent time in the rec room reading. You reach down, sinking your fingers into Johnny’s mohawk, gripping the short strands. He lets out a groan as you tug, pulling his face from your pussy finally. His chin is glistening with your release, his tongue darting out to lick your juices from his lips. 

He follows as you tug upwards, drawing him away from your pussy. He crawls up your body until you’re almost face to face, your fingers still tangled in his hair. 

“I said that’s enough.” You say, slightly breathless from your orgasm, but you put as much authority in your tone as you can manage. 

“Yes ma’am.” He practically whines, the muscles in his arms flexing as he sinks his own fingers into the sheets around you. 

The sudden shift in control has something buzzing in your brain, the back of your neck tingling. You’re an omega. You’re not supposed to be in control, and yet, here Johnny is, practically folding in front of you. A thrill shoots through your veins at the thought of what you could make him do, what lengths he’d go to for you simply because you have him in this position. 

“Take your clothes off.” You say, releasing his mohawk. 

He sits back without complaint, tugging his shirt over his head. You take him in, the hard lines of his muscles, the dark hair on his chest, the line disappearing under the waistband of his pants. You lick your lips as he undoes the button on his pants, undoing the zipper before tugging them down with his boxers. 

His cock is hard and practically standing at attention as he kicks his pants off. He’s slightly smaller than John, but not by much. Your pussy clenches at the thought of him inside you, but you’re not ready for that quite yet. You guide Johnny back up to your face, pressing your lips against his. You can taste yourself on him, making him groan as you lick into his mouth. 

You guide him onto his back, trading places with him. He settles beneath you, his hands lifting to your hips, but you push them back as you pull away. You smirk down at him for a moment before you move, changing your position so you’re facing away from him. You trap his hands against the bed with your legs like Ghost showed you, sitting yourself on his taut stomach. He has a clear view of your ass still sporting your lacy panties, your wet folds pressed against his skin. 

“Simon show ye that one?” He asks, flexing his hands under you. He could easily overpower you and free himself, but he doesn’t.

“Uh huh.” You say, wrapping your hand around his cock. 

“Hells bells, what are you two gettin’ into during trainin’?” He groans, obviously starting to picture the lewd things you and Ghost might be doing. You wonder how he’d react to seeing you on top of Ghost like you were yesterday. 

“He’s just teaching me how to defend myself.” You say, slowly pumping his cock. “I’m finding there’s not much of a difference between fucking and fighting.” 

Johnny lets out another groan, but you’re not sure if it’s because of your words, or your hand on his cock. You continue to pump his length, feeling the softness of him in your hand, squeezing gently to feel the vein running along the bottom side. Johnny lets out a choked groan, hands twitching again under your legs. 

“Fuck, I cannae last much longer.” He gasps desperately, his length twitching in your hand. 

Pearly white beads of precum have begun to slip from his tip, and you can’t help but lean down and drag your tongue across his head, gathering some in your mouth. He lets out a whine that rivals ones of your own, his hips bucking as he gets closer and closer to his own orgasm. 

“Please, kitten, let me cum inside ye.” He begs, pulling his hands free from underneath you so he can grip your hips. 

You pull away from his cock, sitting up on his stomach. He’s panting, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. You shift yourself again, turning back around to face him. His eyes are hooded as he stares at you, pupils blown with lust. His lips are parted as he pants, sweat beading on his forehead from the strain of holding himself back. You push yourself back until you’re hovering over his cock, pulling your panties to the side with one hand, grabbing his length with the other. 

You groan as you sink down onto him, bracing yourself with a hand on his stomach as he stretches you open. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing your hips as you work yourself down his length. 

“Fuck,” You breathe, pressing your hands against his abs as you sink down completely onto his cock, your hips flush with his. 

“So fucking tight and warm,” He groans, his grip near bruising around your hips. “Fucking feel fantastic, kitten.” 

You slowly begin rocking your hips, using your hands on his stomach for leverage. Your toes are curling already from this angle, the tip of his cock brushing that spot deep inside you with every rock of your hips. Small whines and whimpers leave your lips as you fuck yourself on his cock, squeezing your legs around his hips. They’re shaking already, and you know you won’t last long in this position. 

Johnny seems to notice that as well, his grip on your hips tightening as he starts to guide your movements. You’re starting to sweat from the effort, your thighs burning, but it feels too good to stop. You’re getting close again, the stretch of him inside you paired with the high of having such control over him just a few moments ago driving you closer and closer to the edge. 

Johnny pushes himself up as your movements begin to slow, wrapping his arms around you to shift you in his lap, laying you down on the bed facing the footboard as he slots himself over you. He takes over, thrusting into you, setting a frantic pace. Your head falls back as he pounds into you, your back arching as he folds his body over yours, pressing his face into your neck. 

“Gonna cum for me? Need tae feel ye squeezing ‘round my cock.” He grunts, nipping at the skin of your throat. 

You let out a whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. “Just like that.” You pant, squeezing your legs around his hips. “Don’t stop!” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He groans, continuing to rut into you like your pussy is the only thing that can save his life. 

You practically see stars as you cum, squeezing around his cock as pleasure jolts through your body like electricity. Your hips buck against his, grinding together like some sort of forbidden dance as he’s forced into his own orgasm by your walls squeezing around him. His hips stutter before he stills, warmth spurting into you as he cums. You hold him there, his body trembling with yours as he groans into your throat. 

“Fucking hell.” He moans, starting to shallowly thrust into you. He’s still hard, his cock dragging through your sensitive walls as he continues to fuck you despite having just orgasmed. “Never gonnae tire of this sweet cunt.” 

He probably won’t, you think as he continues to slowly thrust into you again. 

You’re in for a long night. 

NEXT ->

Taglist:

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[pure-smut]

feral.

featuring: Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader

contains: college!Sukuna, established relationship, birth control tampering, unprotected s*x, noncon/dubcon, breeding k*nk, size k*nk, cunnilingus, multiple rounds, creampies, stalking, toxic behaviour

word count: 2.4k

note: all characters are aged up to 21+!

MDNI | 18+ content

series: 1. infatuated | 2. obsessed | 3. addicted | 4. toxic | 5. feral

masterlist

a/n: okay this is the actual final part!! tysm for all the love y'all have given this series, sukuna is truly one of my muses he's just so fucked up lmaooo

“Good news,” you say, beaming. “No more condoms!”

Ryomen Sukuna’s head snaps up from where he was lazing on the couch, scrolling his phone.

“What?”

“No more condoms!” you repeat. “I switched to a different kind of pill, it won’t make me feel as bleh.”

Sukuna can only stare at you. You cross the living room and kneel beside him on the couch. He’s been so patient with you, so doting, you feel bad you changed up your birth control so suddenly last time. You reach across to run your fingers through his hair.

“I know you hated the condoms,” you say, an apologetic smile on your face.

“Stupid things,” Sukuna grumbles, leaning into your touch.

The two of you had only had sex once with a condom and it was obvious Sukuna was displeased. Since then, you’ve been sticking to hand and mouth activities, which is great but not enough forever.

“Well, I’m sorry,” you tell him. “We don’t need to use them anymore.”

You lean across to press a kiss against his lips.

“I missed you, ‘Kuna,” you tell him softly, your eyes glancing down pointedly. “All of you.”

A grin crawls across his face as he kisses you back.

“You still have me, baby,” he says. “I’m right here.”

Truthfully, Sukuna’s been slipping you sleeping pills every couple of nights, taking his fill of you without a condom. You wake up every so often a bit achy and sore but Sukuna’s careful to clean up after himself, never leaving a trace, so you don’t pay it much mind. Meanwhile, Sukuna’s happy to keep doting on you, knowing he’s spilling his seed unprotected in you without you even knowing.

He slipped you the morning after pill the first couple of times but the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of getting you pregnant. Your needy little pussy so eager for his cum, fucking his load into you until it takes. The idea was intoxicating. So he stopped spiking your coffee with the morning after pill. All he needs to do now is wait.

Until you interrupt his plans again.

Sukuna waits until you’re out of the house before he starts rifling through the bathroom cabinets. He finds your new pills quickly, a few of them already popped. He regards them with disgust. Just another barrier between you.

He takes a picture of them, making a note of the name and brand. After some difficult searching and a trip to the dark web, Sukuna finds someone who’ll send out several identical boxes, except filled with sugar pills instead. With a grin, he orders them.

Sukuna has to spend a few days finishing inside you knowing you’re still protected, waiting for the fake pills to arrive. He knows you’d get suspicious if he refrained from sex – it’s Sukuna, after all – so he fucks you the way you want, the thought of the prize at the end keeping him going.

You return home one day to see Sukuna with your favourite flowers, the lights turned low, and a smile on his face. Your sweet boyfriend.

You remember what you thought of him before you got together – an arrogant fuckboy would be putting it lightly. What should have been a quick, albeit satisfying, one night stand has somehow turned into the most loving relationship you’ve ever had.

You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him deep, your tongue flicking over his. He’s been in a semi-bad mood ever since you said you were switching pills but he seems to have gotten over it, returning to the gruff but loving guy you know.

“I love you, baby,” Sukuna mumbles into your mouth. “Get on the bed.”

He doesn’t give you time to respond before he carries you through to the bedroom himself. You’re used to this, being manhandled by Sukuna, so you only giggle as he throws you onto the bed. He reaches under your skirt to tug off your panties before crawling between your legs.

Sukuna inhales the scent of you. You smell so dark and sweet, it’s like you’re custom built to turn him on. Ever since the night he broke into your room to taste you as you slept, he hasn’t been able to stop tasting you. You often find yourself in the middle of tasks, cooking or studying, interrupted by Sukuna nudging his face between your legs to lap at you.

Sukuna wraps his arms around your thighs to pull you closer, his tongue parting your folds. You’re already glistening for him, so ready for him, and he loves that about you. Loves that he can take you whenever he wants, your pussy just waiting for him. You taste even better now that he knows you’ve been on the fake birth control pills for a week now, your scent somehow more powerful now he knows you’re unprotected, ready for his seed.

He groans into your pussy at the thought, his cock already throbbing. He licks a fat stripe along your lips before prodding at your entrance, lapping at your sweet honey. His nose nudges your clit, making you groan and card your fingers through his hair. You’d grind against him if you could, if his grip allowed you, but you’re no match for Sukuna’s strength. He always holds you in place, holds you exactly where he wants to.

Sukuna eats your pussy selfishly, the way he enjoys it rather than you – your pleasure being a nice bonus but not always necessary. His thick tongue slides in and out of your hole, gathering as much of your slick as possible, and you have to whine for him to please, please lick your clit. As usual, he brings you to the brink but doesn’t take you over unless you beg him.

Sukuna latches onto your clit, sucking it with just enough pressure to send you hurtling over the edge. His tongue swipes over the sensitive bud as he sucks and your whole body would buck if he wasn’t pinning you down so tightly. You moan and writhe as you come undone on his tongue, Sukuna licking up your juices as they run down his chin. He only pulls away when he’s painfully hard, needing to feel you around him before he bursts.

Sukuna quickly positions himself, slinging your ankles up over his shoulders as he aligns with your sopping cunt. He pushes himself in, feeling the fat head of his cock pop inside you before several more inches follow. You cry out his name, digging your nails into his forearm.

He normally goes slower than this, normally lets you adjust. But when you look up at him, Sukuna’s eyes are feral. Something instinctual has taken over him, has made him desperate to rut into you.

“S-Sukuna,” you whimper. “P-please… slower…”

A muscle bounces in his jaw but he obliges, the sound of your begging appeasing him. He doesn’t push any deeper but instead fucks you with shallow thrusts, only going halfway down his shaft.

It feels like your needy pussy is sucking him in, despite your pleading, and Sukuna has to fight to restrain himself. Your sweet, fertile womb is waiting for him and there’s nothing he wants more than to coat it with his cum.

But he does love you. He loves you so much. He doesn’t want to hurt you, not really, not when you’re whimpering so sweetly for him, your nails digging into him so desperately. So he rocks his hips, waiting for you to adjust, waiting for the wince on your face to turn to pleasure, before he sinks himself deeper.

“Ah, fuck… that’s it…” Sukuna half sighs, half grunts as he bottoms out. “Who’s pussy is this?”

“Y-yours, Sukuna,” you moan.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You, Sukuna!”

“Say it.”

“I belong to you. All of me belongs to you.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, your brain foggy with lust.

Sukuna’s pushing you to the brink again, his thick cock pistoning in and out of you as he rubs against your most sensitive spot. Sukuna feels you cream on his cock, helpless to it, your body not your own.

As you moan and mewl, Sukuna looks down at you and pictures you pregnant with his child. He imagines your swollen belly, how your heavy breasts will sway, how you’ll be with him forever.

His forever.

It’s enough to finish him. Sukuna groans long and low, sinking inside you as he spurts load after load into your womb. He fills you to the brim, his orgasm so powerful he falls onto his arms, muscles shaking.

He’s still inside you as he kisses you roughly, unlike the sweet, deep kisses he usually gives you after sex. You kiss him back but it’s only when you feel his hips rock again, his length still inside you that you realise he’s not done.

“’Kuna…?”

Sukuna ignores you as he pulls out long enough to flip you onto your stomach. He pushes your leg up, bending it at the knee to give him better access as he slides himself into you again.

You gasp as your tender pussy is violated, your hands splayed out as Sukuna pins your down with his body weight. He’s still fully hard, his girth hitting a new angle as he fucks his load back into you.

“S-Sukuna…” you whimper. “M’sore!”

“Quiet,” he commands you, voice rough. “I can feel how fucking wet you are so be a good little slut and let me finish.”

Sukuna’s harsh voice silences you as you bury your face into the pillow, hands fisting the bed sheets. He’s right – you’re tender but you’re still enjoying it, your pussy drooling around his cock. His cum is only making you sloppier, only making it easier for him to fuck you. So you stay quiet, softly whimpering into the pillow.

Sukuna continues fucking you, the feel of your plush walls still so tight around him and the lewd squelch of your sopping pussy making his second orgasm build quickly. He wants to fuck as much cum in you as he can, wants to fill your womb with it.

The fact that you’re unaware, still thinking you’re protected, is a delicious bonus. A thrill runs up his spine as he thinks about how you’re letting him fuck you, letting him cum inside you, when you never would if you knew.

If you only knew.

You lay there, legs nearly numb and body drained of any energy, as Sukuna continues to saw in and out of you. You feel one of his large hands scoop under your hip, lifting you slightly so he can go deeper. Sukuna handles you like you’re just a hole for him to fuck and you realise the thought makes you even wetter. Your walls are so sensitive, each stroke feels like fire through your body, half pleasure and half pain.

Your abused pussy clenches involuntarily around Sukuna's girth as he forces a orgasm from you, his hips snapping against your ass at a brutal pace.

Having you in this position reminds Sukuna of every night he’s fucked you while you’re asleep, your body limp and pliant, just waiting to be moved to his liking. Except this time he's fucked you into submission, his own personal little fucktoy.

“Fuck…” he mutters, his cock swelling. “You’re such a good girl for me. You’re so fucking good.”

He’s so close. Your pussy feels too warm and soft, too greedy for his cum for him to last any longer. Sukuna grips your hip hard enough to leave bruises, holding you in place as he fucks into you. His balls tighten at his approaching orgasm and you can hear his moans behind you, his cock nearly overly sensitive.

You’re almost relieved as you feel his hot cum spill inside you, Sukuna’s thrusts slowing as his cock throws thick ropes of his sticky seed in your womb. Your breathing is ragged, your face streaked with tears you didn’t realise you were crying.

Sukuna pulls out of you but stays where he is, breathing hard. After a moment, he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“Sorry, baby,” he murmurs. “Couldn’t help myself. You just felt so good.”

Sukuna smooths his hand across your back, pressing more gentle kisses against your neck and shoulder. You let him, blinking away the last of the tears.

“I love you,” Sukuna says quietly.

You roll over to face him, wincing at the tender ache between your legs.

“I love you too,” you whisper.

Sukuna kisses you again, the way you remember, soft and deep. You want to ask what came over him but when he tells you he’s going to clean you up and run you a hot bath, you decide you don’t mind.

True to his word, Sukuna gently cleans you before leaving you to soak in the bath. He offers to stay with you but you insist you want to sit alone for a while, peppering him with reassuring kisses. And you do sit alone for a while, for a few minutes.

Quietly, you climb out of the bath and open the cabinet to find your birth control pills. You check you’ve taken the dummy pills Sukuna got you before putting them back in the cabinet. You sink silently to your knees and carefully lift one of the tiles on the bathroom floor. Sitting there are your real birth control pills.

You pop one free, swallowing it quickly before putting it back, replacing the tile without making a sound. You climb back into the bath slowly so you don’t splash before lying back again, relaxing.

You first discovered Sukuna’s sleeping pills when he was out collecting your favourite takeout some weeks ago. You figured that was the reason you were waking up some mornings with a familiar ache.

You discovered the tracking app on your phone the morning after Sukuna had installed it and had spotted him following at a distance behind you some days. So you gave him what he wanted – you made sure he saw you ignored other men and you never lied about your location.

You got your own set of morning after pills once you found the sleeping pills, knowing immediately what Sukuna was up to. He might think you’re unprotected, might fuck you like you are, but only you know that’s not true.

You close your eyes, enjoying the soak of the hot water. You know Sukuna does this because he loves you. Because he’s obsessed with you. You like that he's rough with you you, that he loves you so much he stalks you, that he wants to get you pregnant so he'll never lose you.

You love him just as much back. Your sweet, doting boyfriend who thinks he knows everything about you, who thinks he’s the one in control.

Your smirk to yourself.

If only he knew.

masterlist

Support me on Ko-Fi! ♡

Taglist: @sterzin @venus1224idkpleaze

[finsplurtz]

bloodsucker — izuku.midoriya

— dom ! vamp ? male.reader x sub ! izuku.midoriya

— contents: straight up fucking , vampire!reader , you get hungry mid sex , you lose control n drink dudes blood but he feels like he’s fucking floating , he loves it ❤️‍🩹

warnings : blood drinking uhm boo

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮

He finds it soooo unbelievably attractive when you go FULL vampire it’s insane. I mean fangs out, thirsty for blood, extremely strong and that hypnotizing voice of yours. You’d never kill someone drinking their blood. you wouldn’t even be able to ask if you can drink their blood cause you lose all your common sense.

Fucking into your cute pro hero relentlessly. Your dick is so deep inside Izuku it’s drawing so many loud whines from the greenette. Your eyes open and his neck looks so…. smooth, so pale..

Your breathing picks up as you stare harder while Izu’s moaning like a whore. Your lips turn upwards into a grin and he caught a glimpse of your sharp canines, which only come out when hungry.

His heart skips a beat the second he realizes what you’re staring at.

“ngh.. yn..mhh..!” Your grip on his hips are incredibly tight and your dick is practically abusing his insides.

You lean down and he feels and hears your breathing up close. He grabs onto your hair tightly and puts his hand on your back, you’re hitting that spot so perfectly it has his back arching off the bed.

You don’t feel the pleasure, everything is blocked out. When was the last time you had human blood? You don’t know but you’ve been dying to know what your boyfriend tastes like.

He feels you graze your sharp teeth against his skin, he gets chills and tugs at your hair to stop you. You’re licking at the spot and kissing it while he squirms to maybe get away but you’re fucking him so good he doesn’t want to leave.

He shivers when your teeth starts to push down on the spot.

“yn..! wait wait please don’t— AGH” He screams at the pain when your teeth sink into his plush skin. His nails digging into your back and dragging them down.

You’re sucking his blood rapidly while still thrusting into him. More moans leave him and he’s gasping a bit afraid. You’re taking a … generous amount of blood, his minds starting to blank and the moans turn into whimpers and cries as tears fall down the sides of his face. He’s given up trying to pull you off and one last thrusts deep deep in him, you let your hot load inside him. A broken moan before cum rips out of his slit coating his and your tummy.

most intense orgasm he’s ever had, he’s smiling and shaking under you as you finish drinking what you want. You pull back and look down at him with half lidded eyes, his bloods all over your lips and teeth. You slowly lean down to his mouth and he gladly opens his mouth for you to let your tongue roam. Kissing him sloppily, he can taste his own blood, it’s sweet. your small chuckles have his tummy turning

The amount of blood drawn from him causes him to pass out.

he wakes up all wobbly and drowsy, he sits up in his bed and touches at his neck feeling around at the bandage around it.

He sees you sound asleep next to him, the sheets were changed and izuku was all clean.

he slowly lays back and and stares at your sleeping face till you eventually wake up and let out a small gasp.

“‘zuku…..’m sorry..” you said in a sad tone. The greenette smiles a bit and gets closer to give you a small kiss and snuggle up closer to you.

He kisses your neck and it has you biting the inside of your cheek help he’s so cute hold me back

im vamp

a/n; guys i love vampitres also hellow

[osachiyo]

sub dazai content i beg 😭😓

"𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐀?"

note — ask, and thou shalt receive.

tws — explicit content, msub, teasing, degradation, cum eating, hair pulling, cowgirl, reader is meaaaan, bondage, choking, face-sitting, this is kinda filthy im ngl, i wrote this in 20 minutes so there will most definitely be errors, premature ejaculation, unprotected seeeex, dazai is pussy drunk but that's nothing new ... MDNI

"you think you're soooo cute, huh?" you raised a questioning brow, hands wrapped firmly around dazai's bandaged throat — and your pussy wrapped around his flushed cock. moans poured out of his mouth, which were all muffled by the sheer fabric of your panties stuffed in there — his lips wet 'n sticky with your arousal and his own spit.

he was so cute with his mouth shut — no more snarky and teasing comments you had to listen to as you rode him like your life depended on it. all he could do is moan and grunt around your pretty little panties while getting overstimulated over and over again. it was fucking amazing.

"feeling me up at work? seriously?" you scoffed, fingers tightening around his throat as you felt him gulp — cock twitching inside you as he tried not to nut right then and there. but god, were you making it so fucking difficult for him.

"don't you dare cum without my permission," you hissed out at the poor man, cunt squeezing down tightly as he bucked his hips up — trying to fuck up into you but to no avail, unfortunately. you giggled at his pathetic attempt to fuck you — "c'mon, this is so fucking embarrassing, honestly," you cooed — watching as he gazed at you through those pretty, long lashes that you were almost jealous of.

"fuck, you're such a slut, 'samu," you licked your lips — moving your hands from his neck to those chocolatey brown locks, tugging them hard as you can while bouncing on dazai's cock — watching as his eyes rolled back, his back arching as he moaned loudly despite being gagged — sticky white substance spurting into you and painting your walls white for the second time that night.

"oh you little...."

dazai groaned from the taste of your cunt — not at all minding his own cum dripping down your hole to his hot tongue. the combination of your slick and his load made him feel all dizzy — it was just so fucking lewd.

"enjoying yourself down there, baby?" you moaned, a grin spreading on your candied lips as you looked down at your boyfriend — eating your pussy out so nicely. fuck, he looked so ruined - his hair even messier than usual, eyes unfocused and hazy, pupils fully blown out, sharp nose bumping against your little clit as you rode his face to your desire, not caring if he could breathe or not — just like you knew he liked it.

i mean, how could you not? especially when you saw how fucking hard his cock got while devouring you like this — pussy gushing and creaming all over his face as he tried his best to lap it all up, not letting a single drop go to waste.

dazai felt like he was in heaven — hips twitching up everytime you grind down against his hot tongue, the lower portion of his pretty face completely soaked in your sticky honey — so fucking messy but he wouldn't have it any other way.

"o-oh fuuuhck — 'm close," you moaned — squeezing your eyes shut as you tugged on his wavy brown locks. the way you were using him solely for your pleasure — riding and creaming all over his face, had the man seeing stars — it felt so fucking good.

"cum, p-please, c'mon baby i know you can do it — cum on my face, please, " dazai spoke up for what seemed like the first time since you've started this — and fuck, his voice was so needy and desperate it had you gushing all over him, your juices being lapped right up by the man below you, who was basically on cloud nine at the moment.

dazai didn't stop licking and suckling on your cunt until he was sure he had cleaned every single drop — letting go of your clit with a wet 'pop!' as he let you come down from that delicious high.

you panted heavily, eyes snapping back open as you finally came to the right state of mind. you finally lifted yourself up, giving dazai some room to breathe properly, "oh 'samu, let's get you cleane—" your words died in your throat as you saw the creamy white substance all over dazai's tummy and thighs, and his cock dripping with cum.

he knows he should be embarrassed for cumming untouched from having his girl ride his face but all dazai could really think about in that moment was —

"fuck baby, i really need to rile you up more often."

© 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐘𝐎 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ─ do not copy/translate/repost and/or recommend any of my works on different platfroms under any circumstances. reblogs greatly appreciated !

[httpiastri]

NSFW alphabet – op81

author's note: hello again, rushed to finish this after quali today. mclaren second row lockout heck yes !!! anyways idk what i think about this one, first time posting something abt oscar in many months?? hope u enjoy tho :)

nsfw content below !! minors dni !!!

a – aftercare (what he is like after sex)

oscar is the biggest sweetheart after sex (when isn't he, though?). so so so gentle and caring for your every need. he'll be forcing you to drink some water, making sure you're cleaned up properly, helping you out with soothing lotions if your skin is sore.

lots of lots of kisses! forehead, nose, cheek, temple kisses, and especially little pecks on your lips. he loves having you rest on his chest after it all, fingers brushing along your skin or tangling in your hair. and there will be so many praises, "you did so well" and "you felt so good" and "you look gorgeous right now, did you know?"…

b – body part (his favorite body part of his and also his partner's body)

oscar has a thing for collarbones. they're like a magnet to his lips; his lips are automatically drawn to them. he loves to brush his thumb along them, seeing you shiver when he places fleeting kisses on top of them, and most importantly leaving little lovebites for only the two of you to see and know about. oscar is also in love with your breasts, no matter how big or small they are.

can't believe i almost forgot to write your eyes… i will get back to this later but your eyes are definitely one of his favorite things about you. watching you blink up at him innocently, watching your eyes flutter closed, watching them roll to the back of your head… oh he's smitten.

on his own body, he really likes his thighs. if he got to choose, he would have you sitting on his lap at all times. 24/7, no matter the occasion. the sight of you getting off just by riding his thigh is one of his absolute favorites, he loves flexing his muscles under you and guiding your hips down onto him.

c – cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

since he's a fan of your boobs (well, everything in the chest area, to be fair), he loves to pull out and spill his load over your breasts. he won't do it every time, but he savors the chances he gets. totally has a few pics of you with his cum all over your chest, dripping along your collarbones, saved for the moments when he misses you the most.

d – dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of his)

maybe not a dirty secret per se, but oscar has a little submissive streak... he sure does love begging a little, pouting and whining to get what he wants. and i mean, who could say no to these eyes looking up at you?

e – experience (how experienced is he? does he know what he's doing?)

well oscar went to school for longer than a lot of other racing drivers, and boarding school for that matter, so i think he's been able to get quite a bit of experience. he knows a lot, but it's more important to him to get to know you and what you like. his prior experience doesn't matter as much as the experience he gains together with you.

f – favorite position (this goes without saying)

oscar thinks you're the most gorgeous thing ever so you bet he doesn't want to spend even a second not getting to look into your pretty eyes. anything where he can watch your face contort or relax, and your eyes squeeze shut or blink up at him, makes him so weak. he loves a classic missionary, especially if he gets to hike one of your legs over his hip and especially if you put a pillow under your lower back because he knows you love it. and when you're enjoying himself, he enjoys himself, too.

seeing you ride him makes him a little crazy though, but don't expect him to keep his eye contact with you during it; his eyes will be firmly glued onto your boobs as they bounce up and down, he can't help it.

g – goofy (is he more serious in the moment? is he humorous? etc.)

oscar is a soft giggler during sex. he isn't overly serious but not overly humorous either, just a good mix. he's low laughs when you're whining for him, playful coos as reactions to your impatience, and a lot of "baby, let's not get ahead of ourselves, okay?" with teasing smiles. he's just not scared of a little humor because sex doesn't have to be so strict to him; it's just a cozy time you spend together and he wants you to be as comfortable and relaxed as you can.

h – hair (how well groomed is he? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he's no naked rat, but he likes to keep things neat. a bit trimmed, not super short but also not long. though i also feel like he definitely adjusts to your likes and what you find attractive.

i – intimacy (how is he during the moment? the romantic aspect)

sex isn't just fucking to him; sex is lovemaking. he loves to be romantic with it. celebrating birthdays or anniversaries in your bedroom with little candles everywhere to set the mood, rose petals in a heart on the bed, with a cozy bubble bath after. and even when it's not a big occasion, he's very soft and romantic. he has a few playlists he loves to put on, he knows exactly what to say to get you in the mood and where to press his lips to draw out your oh so sweet sounds. oscar is all gentle touches and soft glances.

j – jack off (masturbation headcanon)

that one time when you accidentally walked in on him jacking off because you came home early from work/school, he was so extremely flustered – but he also found it very arousing. when you asked him if you could help him out, he couldn't help his hasty nods and the way his heart skipped a few beats in his chest. watching you settle on his lap, your hands starting where his had left off, fingers brushing up and down along him teasingly... from that day, he replays the image of you giving him a handjob in his mind whenever he does it himself, and he loves to get your help whenever he doesn't have a lot of time but needs to get off before a race etc.

k – kink (one or more of his kinks)

marking. 100%. he'll be lowkey and casual with it, not really saying much about it, but after a while you come to the realization that he leaves quite a lot more lovebites than anyone you've been with before. the inside of your thighs, your hips, your ribs... but especially your chest area. they won't usually be where anyone can see, because he likes to keep your sex life private, but there have been occasions when he's been a bit extra riled up (or jealous) and he just couldn't back from leaving trails of hickeys down your neck. he just adores the thought of you having a physical reminder of who you belong to, even if they fade after a while.

l – location (favorite places to do the do)

your bedroom is the #1 favorite, but he's okay with other places too. he especially likes your bathtub, especially when the lights are dimmed and you've got some pretty candles spread out in the room (and downed a few glasses of wine possibly).

m – motivation (what turns him on, gets him going)

oscar loves lingerie. if you wore any lingerie, he would be turned on instantly. he just can't help it. i also feel like he's the type to just get turned on from mundane, domestic things. like, seeing you cooking? watching you do your nighttime routine? it's a reminder him that you're there, you're real, and you're his. there's nothing hotter than that.

during the actual lovemaking, he gets a little crazy whenever you say his name. especially when you're about to come and his name slips from your lips in the form of a breathless whimper and he can feel your insides contract around him. it could make him come instantly.

n – no (something he wouldn't do, turn-offs)

nothing where there's even the slightest chance that you'll injure yourself. nuh uh. he also dislikes things where you won't be able to easily quit if anything were to happen, like bonding. the idea of you being tied up when the fire alarm goes off or you get a panic attack makes his skin crawl, it's his worst nightmare.

o – oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

i don't think he has anything against receiving it, but it won't happen unless you initiate it. he's very certain about not pressuring you in that way; he knows it's not always your favorite thing to do and he respects that.

i see him as someone who loves to give it, though. especially if he can take his time with you, rile you up with soft kisses and gentle caresses of your skin.

p – pace (is he fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

oh i totally see oscar as more slow and sensual. as we've covered already, sex is lovemaking to him, and he's in no rush. he wants to enjoy every second of it, and make sure you do too. foreplay can last for an eternity with him because he loves preparing you for what's to come.

q – quickie (his opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he'd rather take his time with you and do it properly. if he really needs to blow off some steam, he'd rather just jack off or have you help him out if you don't have any time. if you're going to have sex, he wants to not be in any rush, and he wants to have time to properly take care of you after.

r – risk (is he game to experiment? does he take risks? etc.)

he's definitely open to experiment. he might want to try more things than he's willing to admit; even though he's fully comfortable with you by now, something still makes him a bit nervous about talking to you about it. he wants to find a 'good opportunity' to bring the idea up, but it might take him some courage to do it. he'll be very gentle, shy eyes blinking at you, voice soft… "only if you're okay with it, of course!" and "you really have to tell me if you don't want to. you have to promise me", maybe even making you pinky promise that you indeed do want to try the thing.

he'd be over the moon if you insinuated it, though. anything you're up for, he's automatically up for, too.

s – stamina (how many rounds can he go for? how long does he last?)

i think his stamina is quite good. when i say that he loves taking his time with you, i mean it in that way, too; he can go on for hours. if he needs to take a break, then he'll start focusing on you and making you feel good instead. neither of you will ever get tired, he just keeps on going until he's satisfied.

t – toys (does he own toys? does he use them? on a partner or himself?)

i wouldn't say he's the biggest fan of them, but he doesn't have anything against them, either. he's much happier if he gets to be the person to make you feel so good. though, the thought of you using your toys on yourself when he's not around really gets him going, and if anything, he's okay with you using them on yourself even when you're together. (fic abt osc watching you use your vibrator hereee)

u – unfair (how much he likes to tease)

not as much as some other people (*cough cough* his teammate *cough cough*) but he does enjoy it. he really likes teasing fingers dragging up and down your ribs, fleeting kisses all over your skin, brushing your hair away from your face as you're waiting for him to do something.

he does it in a gentle and sweet way that should be interpreted as just cute but it makes you furious sometimes? because he can be so slow it's infuriating and you want him to just get on with it already. he'll be pretending to think things through or fiddle with a belt, and you'll just go crazy because he should be touching you but he's just finding a bunch of excuses to keep you on your toes. he loves to see you squirming and whining beneath him, holding your hands away easily with a 'tsk' when you try to release some of your tension yourself since he's so goddamn slow. (blurb ish on this topic hereeee)

v – volume (how loud he is, what sounds he makes, etc.)

a lot of heavy breathing. i see him as a groaner, but he's not overly loud with it. he lovesss to talk you through it, though. "are you ready? is this okay? tell me if i need to pause. that feels so good, you're doing so good."

w – wild card (a random headcanon)

oscar LOVES praising you. it just happens naturally because he thinks you're doing so well and he loves you so much, he must tell you. "that's perfect, love. i love it when you do that. god, you feel so good. look at you, taking me so well. and looking so beautiful while doing it? there's no one as good as you..."

x – x-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

just a bit longer than average but it's the thickness that makes him stand out. even after being together for a long while, it takes you a good amount of foreplay to stretch out for him, and it still feels like he's splitting you open once he finally slips fully into you.

y – yearning (how high is his sex drive?)

nothing too special i'd say, he loves a good few rounds but he enjoys a sweet, romantic night of another kind just as much.

z – zzz (how quickly he falls asleep afterward)

a sleepy boy in general but most of the time, he gets a little energy boost out of sex instead. he will be the last to fall asleep pretty much every time, which is also because he just wants to enjoy the moment for as long as he can before eventually falling asleep. he adores having you in his arms after doing his aftercare routines, drawing little shapes into your skin as you start to fall asleep. once asleep, though, he sleeps so well & heavy. it'll take three alarms and you bribing him with kisses for him to actually wake up before 1pm.

[charlesxavierthirster3000]

Denim — C. Xavier

Pairing: 60s (First Class)!Charles Xavier x GN!Reader

Summary: Charles takes you out, but you're quite the fussy shopper. (Pls spare me idk how to write summaries 😥)

CW/Tags: suggestive content, pre-beach divorce Charles, no use of Y/N (there never will be on my blog), don't like don't read.

A/N: Huzzah guys I'm finally writing !!!! This prolly won't get much traction bc it's not Logan but fuck it we ball 🔥🔥 This has been rotting in Docs for like a week and I just finished it like 15 mins ago so here we go.. 😁 Also I wrote this as Fem!Reader in mind but I realised it could be GN so I'll just put it as that :3

WC: 461 / Navigation

Divider credits (They're so cute istg bro) here and here

Charles Xavier was not your sugar daddy. He could believe he was all he wanted, but your very minimal amount of dignity drew the line at that title.

The man could buy you everything you ever even thought of — which was fairly easy, considering his mutation — yet you wouldn't admit it even if you had 8 fully loaded AK-47s pointed at your face.

“Just get it, for God's sake,” Charles drawled, nodding at the pair of mid-blue bootcut jeans you'd been fawning over for what felt like half his lifetime. 

When you give the gorgeous denim another doubtful up-down, he gets up from his concerningly squeaky stool bordering the men’s section and reaches for your wrist.

“It would take immense effort to make me go bankrupt, sweetheart.” He places his credit card in your palm, gently forcing your fingers over it with a short smile. It's not the first time he's done this, and it most definitely won't be the last.

“I have a pair just like thi—” you try to argue weakly, but the gloved hand over your mouth leaves you no choice but to shut your gob. God, this man was direct.

“Uh-uh, not hearing it. We both know exactly how much you want it. End of discussion. Go pay.” 

He carefully nudges you forward in the direction of the distant cashier, but you blatantly refuse to move an inch. He stares incredulously at the back of your head and you have to bite back a laugh beneath the confines of his palm. 

You should’ve expected it, but the British in your brain still catches you by surprise. Damn colonizers.

“Get the damn pants. Your ass would look lovely in them,” he pats your ass with his free hand as punctuation, attempting to urge you forward yet again.

“All you care about is my ass,” you retort mentally.

“Yes and no. It's definitely up there.”

“I'm gonna bite you.”

“Kinky. But keep it in your shorts ‘til we get back, yeah?”

He takes his hand off your face and gets out of your head. You whip your head around to silently complain at him, but he's staring right back at you with a smile that, to the normal person, would look as if he'd done no wrong. But to you, it was only making your situation worse.

The same smile which was pissing you off in ways you didn't even think possible morphs into a genuine laugh delivered softly, and for God's sake, you can't keep your stomach from doing a brief flip at the sound.

“Fine. Pretend you don't want them. But you're going to pay with my card, and I'll show you exactly how much you won't regret buying them when we get back to my office.”

[bluesidez]

Gym Rat Miguel Part 11 | chapter on AO3 for easier scrolling

content warning: fluff, some hurt/comfort?? angst??? bittersweet moments???, recreational use of zaza, some nerd talk, 18+ so MDNI, p in v sex (first time 😗)

word count: 10.1k, halfway proofread (don't ask me NOTHING...)

shout out to @hyjionie and @hwasoup for one of the ideas here! 😗 you guys will know it when you see it!

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel whose mom was driving him crazy. The flight for New York was at 7 am and somehow she was up running around the house at 2 am.

“Miguel! Get up, we have to go. Now!”

“Ma, no one is even driving on the road right at this hour. There's no traffic."

"Which is why you need to get up and move. You know Gabriel takes forever. Get up!"

GymRat!Miguel who groggily put on his clothes. It was the hoodie you got for him for Christmas with the doodle of the two of you on the front. If he was going to be stuck in the airport for hours, he might as well be comfortable.

GymRat!Miguel who looked made sure that his laptop was loaded with things to do.

He could catch up on shows he knew you watched so that you could have someone to rant to about them. He could listen to that one podcast you mentioned just because you mentioned it. He could read that one manga you were raving about because he was not going to compete with fictional men, and maybe, he could steal ideas from it.

GymRat!Miguel who went to wake up Gabriel before their mom's voice pierced both of their ears again.

He opened the door to see Gabriel staring bug-eyed at his wall while he ate a bowl of cereal.

“Did you go to sleep?” Miguel asked, closing the door and walking closer.

“No,” Gabriel said. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Miguel ran his hand over his hair, curly strands bouncing back, “Promise me you’ll try to sleep on the plane?”

Gabriel took his bowl to his mouth, slurping up the last drops, “Only if the voices let me.”

“Right,” Miguel says then takes his bowl from him. “Maybe you can have a conversation with them right now.”

“And maybe I will!”

GymRat!Miguel who stares at the bags his dad has stuffed into the trunk with awe. 

“Pa, you know we’ll only be there for three days, right?”

George presses against the trunk with a little more force than needed, “You never know what could happen, mijo.”

GymRat!Miguel whose bones shake with exhaustion as he stares out the window on the way to the airport. Maybe it’s due to the lack of sun, but he’s never felt a cold summer night. 

GymRat!Miguel who sighs as his dad argues with the staff over a suitcase that Miguel knew would be too heavy. He’s not even sure what his dad has in there.

GymRat!Miguel who thinks that TSA is having a field day despite his family being one of the few coming in at this hour. 

The man in front of him was taking way too long to pat him down and he got the hint was Miguel scowled at him.

GymRat!Miguel who had about four hours to kill before the plane came, so he decided to walk around the airport with Gabriel and pretend like they were a spoiled set of twins shopping casually in France.

“What do you think about this, Mimi? A little chic, no?” Gabriel held up a Gucci scarf to his green hoodie. 

Miguel stuck his nose up, “No, Bribri, it’s so yesterday.”

“Ugh,” Gabriel put the scarf back like it was on fire, “You’re so right. Thank god you’re here or I’d be so lost!”

GymRat!Miguel who feels like he’s back at home with Gabriel as they try their best to avoid the luxury brand store staff. Every time one would get close, they would giggle and rush out of the store. 

GymRat!Miguel and Gabriel who crash back at their terminal with enough food to feed a family of five. 

“What is all of this?” Conchata asks as Miguel hands her a coffee, a frustrated look on her face.

“Ma, it’s almost the crack of dawn and we’re hungry. Big boys gotta eat,” Gabriel said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

George reached in one of the bags and grabbed a sausage sandwich, “He’s right, Conchata. We can’t survive on two bites.”

Conchata eyed her three boys with her arms crossed, “All of it better be finished and I don’t want to hear one complaint about your stomachs.”

Miguel just snickered. It’s not like she bought the food anyway.

GymRat!Miguel who is watching an older couple meditate at his terminal as the sun begins to rise. 

“Yo,” Gabriel says. “That looks relaxing as hell. I’ma join them.”

GymRat!Miguel who is wheezing as he watches Gabriel plant himself between them to spread his arms and breathe at deep paces.

GymRat!Miguel who is thankful that his parents bought better-than-Economy seats, but that still didn’t stop any of the O’Hara boys from feeling like they were in one of those miniature museums. 

Both his dad and Gabriel were already tall, but Miguel was more than tall with a heavier body to match. If another compartment almost smacks him in the face, he might lose it.

GymRat!Miguel who takes off his headphones when Gabriel grips his arm.

“The voices,” Gabriel whispers. “The voices are here.”

“Are we doing this the whole flight?”

“Miguel, what if they tell me to do something drastic?”

Miguel looked to the window next to Gabriel and then up to the ceiling, “Three hours.”

“Three hours in which my brain could be infiltrated!”

“I’m closing my eyes, Gabri.”

“But-”

“Closing!”

GymRat!Miguel who used the flight to catch up on sleep and listen to the playlist you made for him. You gifted it to him earlier this month and said it would grow more and more. Miguel loved it because it showed that you were thinking about him, daydreaming about him. It also meant that he could connect to you more. 

No sound of crying babies, no smell of the artificial air packed tight, no light from overhead, just you and him in his mind, dancing on clouds. 

His heart felt like it followed the tempo of each song that played, the words and melodies taking over his mind. 

GymRat!Miguel whose mind wanders by the time the second half of the playlist starts. It was sensual and intimate in a way that passed the sticky sweetness of the first half. 

He was thinking about the nights when it was just the two of you and a bed. He could feel your body tangled with his in the sheets and your eyes piercing his skin. He could see you in front of him as the music played, the words glowing on your skin and the harmonies bounding you to him.

GymRat!Miguel who is yanked out of his fantasy of him pressing you up against a wall when his body jerks from the turbulence. 

He opens his eyes to see Gabriel knocked out and not a clue in the world.

GymRat!Miguel who is always reminded how idiotic people can be at the airport. 

Standing in the aisles is not going to make the people in the front move any faster.

GymRat!Miguel who could finally stretch his legs once he exits the terminal.

“If I get on another plane where a kids stares back at me the entire flight again, I’m going to spin my head like an owl,” Gabriel mumbles as he cracks his neck.

GymRat!Miguel who has a time laughing at his dad slowly losing his mind. 

First, he complained because his fabric luggage was lopsided and twisted from its buckled components, extra bag barely hanging on. 

Second, a wheel on his luggage was a few more spins from giving out. Every time the bag would skirt across the shining floors of the airport, George would grunt in frustration and yank it back. Gabriel almost pissed himself leaning onto Miguel from laughing. 

Third, the ride to the hotel almost gave him a heart attack. The cabs in New York were fast and no-nonsense when it came to getting people to their destinations. The cab drivers were also known to bob and weave into lanes like it was nothing. At every switch of a lane, George was mumbling prayers into the air. 

Conchata kept a hand on his shoulder as best as she could from the middle back seat, but George’s grip on the handle was turning white as he tried his best not to yell into the driver’s ear. Gabriel was filming him from the left side, wheezing like it was the funniest thing in the world. 

GymRat!Miguel who dropped his stuff off, took a nap, and used the rest of the afternoon to walk around Times Square. 

“You refused to go to a Broadway show with me but mark my words, you’re going to one with me before the year is over,” Gabriel pointed his finger at Miguel. 

“Unfortunately.”

GymRat!Miguel who watches as Gabriel dance battles with the random people in costumes in Times Square when they try to heckle him. 

At first, Miguel was worried for him trying to navigate such a bustling place, but there are moments like this that show him that his little brother has always been quick on his feet. His little brother was light years ahead of him in so many aspects and he couldn’t be prouder. 

GymRat!Miguel who probably filled his phone with more pictures and videos of Gabriel experiencing New York for the first time than were necessary. 

He couldn’t help it. His baby brother was soaring.

GymRat!Miguel who sends you places that he wants to visit with you. 

Envisioning you in his hoodie or with a fluffy, long scarf and walking down the sidewalk hand-in-hand with you had him excited to see you again. You would shine so brightly under the Christmas lights.

GymRat!Miguel who didn’t get back to the hotel with Gabriel until the evening. His parents both snoring in the room across the hall. 

GymRat!Miguel who still manages to get up early enough to hit the hotel gym before he and his family go tackle Gabriel’s dorm room. 

GymRat!Miguel who feels like the only other lady in the gym is trying her best to follow everything that he does. 

So much room in the tiny cube of a gym that they’re in and she moves to wherever he is after five minutes. 

GymRat!Miguel who is annoyed when she taps him in the middle of his set. He removes one ear of his headphones and tries his best to stop the disgusted look on his face from forming. 

“Hey! Sorry, I was wondering if I could use this machine! I’m kind of in a hurry.”

“After I finish this set,” she jerks back at that. “I’m using it right now.”

“Well, I just thought that-”

“Ma’am.”

“I’m 22! Don’t call me ma’am.”

Miguel’s eyebrows went up. He could hear Gabriel in the center of his mind calling her a “hard 22,” so he just put his headphones back on and continued to work through his set. 

GymRat!Miguel who thinks that interaction ruined the girl’s mood but he really didn’t have the energy to be concerned. 

He had to freshen up for breakfast. 

GymRat!Miguel who feels absolutely cramped when he steps into Gabriel’s dorm. 

“It’s not bad!” Conchata rubs Gabriel’s back as he looks around with his mouth in the shape of a line. “Once we clean it and set up your things, it’ll be just like home.”

Gabriel puts his hands on his hips, “Home doesn’t look like cell block 1.”

“At least the window overlooks the city,” Miguel says. 

The door behind them opens with George poking head inside. 

“Mijo, we need to set some ground rules. Your suitemates have no idea how to organize.”

“Did you go in their rooms?” Gabriel asked in disbelief. 

“It’s not my fault they left the door open!” George puts his hands up. 

GymRat!Miguel who works harder than he did for his own dorm. Every piece of clothing was in its rightful place, every surface was sparkling clean, the bed was made with minimal pillows and a giant RJ churro plushie, and there was an odd-shaped humidifier plugged up on his desk. 

“I’m putting your cleaning supplies in the corner of your closet, so this room should stay clean,” Miguel grumbled as he stuck a mini vacuum against the wall.

“Whatever, mom,” Gabriel replied.

“Gabriel,” Conchata had a hand on her hip and a finger pointed at her son. “Don’t whatever him. He’s right. There’s no excuse for this room to be a mess.”

Miguel and Gabriel stood in shock at Conchata’s quick defense.

“Are we in the twilight zone?” Gabriel asks out the side of his mouth.

“Maybe it’s the air pressure,” Miguel whispers back.

GymRat!Miguel who equates Conchata’s growing softness to the fact that not one, but two of her boys will be leaving the nest. 

The sentiment is sweet, but by the fourth time she just lets him and Gabriel roam the busy streets, he’s internally freaking out. 

It was far different from the woman who pinched their ears when they tried to sneak sweets into the shopping carts or the woman who had her shoe locked and loaded for when one of them did anything to annoy her. 

GymRat!Miguel who stays up late to talk all night with Gabriel about anything and everything.

“Which one of these do you think is better?”

Gabriel reaced into his backpack to unfold two flags, one with Jungkook over the Mexican flag and a Weenie Hut Jr. sign.

“Well, I definitely feel like there’s a clear answer.”

“You’re so right,” Gabriel says and folds up the Spongebob sign. “It’s better to represent.”

Miguel only sighed, “If that’s what you insist, Gabri.”

GymRat!Miguel who hugs Gabriel tight as their parents pack the cab back to the airport.

They’ve dropped Gabriel back at his school and said their goodbyes all morning. Miguel feels like he’s fading away. He bites his lips in order not to cry, but it’s hard when Gabriel's hands grip his hoodie like a lifeline. 

“Knock em’ dead, baby bro.”

Gabriel leans back with a wet laugh, “They won’t see me coming.”

GymRat!Miguel who waves out the window as the cab drives off. Gabriel waves back with both hands and a smile on his face. 

Miguel keeps looking back and Gabriel is still standing there. He wants to tell the cab to turn around.

After the fourth look, Gabriel is no longer looking at the direction the cab went but to a girl who also seems to have said goodbye to her family. He’s talking animatedly, arms moving as fast as the words fly out of his mouth. 

Miguel turns back around and pulls the strings on his hoodie hard, eyes welling up with tears. 

“Ay, pobrecito,” Conchata pulls Miguel into her arms, kissing the top of his covered head. “I know, it’s ok.”

Miguel’s lungs take in chopped breaths, hands never moving from the strings. He doesn’t know how to stop the tears from falling. 

“George, you too?”

To Conchata’s other side, George was looking out of the window, sniffling with a fist covering his mouth. 

“It feels like just yesterday I was teaching him how to kick a ball!”

Miguel blew out some air, “That probably was yesterday. He sucks at soccer. And football. And kickball.”

“How did he ever make the basketball team?” George says, voice riddled with sorrow. 

“His height, pa,” Miguel’s throat was tight again. “I didn’t call him beanstalk for nothing.”

The two of them lean onto Conchata, snot and tears crowding their faces. 

“Lose one baby and I gain two more,” Conchata sighed as she rubbed their backs, barely space in the little cab. 

GymRat!Miguel whose eyes remained puffy and swollen the whole trip back home. 

GymRat!Miguel who had to go back to school as soon as possible. 

He loved his parents, but being in the house without Gabriel took a lot more patience than he was willing to give. 

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t see you coming while he's looking for you around the Student Center. 

The campus feels a little different since he’s become more familiar with it. Now he’s got shortcuts and pathways down. He knows more places to hide away in and he carries more tips to survive than he did his freshman year. 

A tap on his shoulder has him turning around. He spins, looks down, and his mood immediately lifts. 

You’re standing there with a pretty smile on your face in the midst of the bustling crowd. Miguel bends down to pick you up, arms wrapping around your thighs, mindful of your skirt. You laugh his name out as you cling to his shoulders. 

He kisses your lips, mouth warm and cozy like the sun shining through the window in a cool room. 

“I missed you so much,” he breathes after two heavy pecks. He moved to the corner of your mouth to your nose to your cheek. “‘M happy to see you.”

“I’m happy to see you, too,” you run a hand through his hair and cradle his face, looking into his eyes. “Are you alright?”

Miguel puts you down, knowing your limit for periodic PDA was nearing its end. 

“Better with you here.”

“Really?” You lean into his chin on his chest with hearts in your eyes. 

“Absolutely,” he plants his arms around you. “Been replaying your playlist for me. You want me to be your good boy?”

Your eyes get wider and you bury your face in his chest. 

“Why are you hiding? You should have known I was going to ask about it,” Miguel chuckles as you groan. 

“You’re using it against me.”

“No, I just want to confirm!”

The irritated face you gave him was too much, he had to tease you more. 

“Just say the word.”

“Hmph,” you lean back as Miguel grins. “Well, be a good boy and help me find our friends.”

Miguel let you pull him, smile loopy, “Whatever you say, baby.”

GymRat!Miguel who is glad to see his friends again. Peter, MJ, Jess, and Ben are sitting at one of the high tables and they all greet you both with smiles. 

“The lovebirds are here!” Peter reached to shake Miguel by the shoulders. “Good to see you both alive.”

“Never better,” Miguel replied, holding the seat out for you to sit on. 

“Look at him,” Jess snickered. “His eyes are practically shaped like hearts.”

“It’s ok to look away from her Miguel,” Ben said. “She’s not going to disappear.”

“C’mon guys, leave them alone. Haven’t you ever had someone you’re head over heels about?” MJ asks.

“No,” Ben and Jess say in a monotone voice.

“I’m sure you’ll find someone someday,” Peter quips as he wraps his arm around MJ. “Someone to stare at like they’re the only ones at the table.”

Everyone looked at Miguel talking to you as you tapped on your phone. He would whisper something in your ear and you would push him back with a shy laugh. His hands rubbed on your shoulders and your thighs. 

“Movie night might be insufferable,” Ben sighed.

Jess leaned back, “A girlfriend or boyfriend would suffice. I’m not picky!”

“I am,” Ben says with raised eyebrows. “I need someone to acknowledge my beauty.”

GymRat!Miguel who does in fact become insufferable during movie night. 

Flashing bright colors are painting the white dorm walls, lighting up the room, and the two of you are cuddled together on his bed. It’s way too cramped and Miguel could barely fit on the thing by himself, but somehow, he has you laid in his arms, a blanket covering you both. 

He’s not even sure what movie is playing on the projector because his mind is too focused on you. His hands keep wandering your body under the thick blue fluff. He’s watching you body jump and listening to your breath hitch as he kneads your thighs, your sides, your stomach, your chest. 

He really did miss you and he wanted to take this time to become acquainted with your body again.

But you would kill him if he let his thoughts take over and sink his hands under your clothes. 

So he settled with touching you and kissing your neck occasionally, your mind to preoccupied with the movie before you. 

GymRat!Miguel who insists on a snack run and makes you tag along. 

Does he want snacks? Not really.

Does he use it as an opportunity to make out with you on the outside of his car? Absolutely.

“Mig, mm-” you melt into him as he pries your mouth open. “I thought you said you wanted milkshakes.”

Miguel cages you against the car, pans down to your chest, then back up to your eyes, “My milkshake is right here, though.”

You scoff, hit his chest, and push his arms to walk around to the passenger seat.

GymRat!Miguel who has milkshakes ready for everyone on their way out to their own dorms. He spent way too long playing with you in the privacy of his car.

GymRat!Miguel who by his second day of classes thinks he has the ideal fall semester schedule planned.

He’s still blocking things out on his calendar, but his classes are a bit more spread out this time, which means more time to be with you. 

With your stacked studio classes, he was going to take every opportunity he could to see you. 

GymRat!Miguel who wanted to take up a basic game programming class as an elective. What better way to nerd out than to get insight on how his favorite games worked?

Learning C++ and Python, breaking down the technical side of things, making his own small games through engines; Miguel was beyond excited, to say the least.

He walked into the empty lab, scoping the classroom out for the best seat. The perks of being early. 

GymRat!Miguel who is scrolling through his watch later list while he waits for class to start. Maybe he could finally watch the Let’s Plays he’s been piling up. Maybe character builds would be better. 

“Hare-Hare, is that you?”

Miguel stopped, that nickname something he hadn’t heard in forever. 

He turned to his right with a smile on his face, “Xina?”

“It is you!” 

Miguel stood to hug her, his body rocking from the weight of her, almost knocking him over. 

“It’s been so long,” she breathes out. Her hands slide down his arms. “Have you gotten even bigger?”

Miguel laughed, “Probably.”

Xina’s eyes flitted over his body and back to his face. 

Miguel sat back down, “You look different, too. Is that a tattoo?”

“Y-yeah! You like it?”

It was some computer code in a spiral shape on her arm. It was really different for her. A far cry from the conservative, shy girl who left the South. 

In fact, the outfit she had on was something she would never wear. It looked like something that Lyla or Tempest would throw on. No collared dresses or long socks over stockings, just low-cut skirts and flowy-sleeved tops. 

“It’s pretty cool. Do your parents know you have it?” 

She shuffled the sleeves of her shirt back down, “They weren’t too fond of it, but what can they do now.”

Miguel smiled softly, “Lyla told me you were coming down here. I guess I just didn’t believe it until I saw you. How have you been?”

“I’ve been pretty good. Just trying to readjust. It’s a lot different here.”

Miguel raised his eyebrow, “From China or from up north?”

“Um, from up north. It’s a lot slower.”

“Really?” Miguel watched as she picked at the mountain of bracelets on her arm. “Hopefully not too much slower. I want you to enjoy your time here.”

More people started to fill up the lab, dropping their backpacks and pecking on their phones. 

Miguel rolled his chair closer to Xina, “What happened up there? Is everything ok?”

Her eyes shifted nervously, voice tight, “Lyla didn’t already tell you?”

“She can say a lot of things, but I’d rather hear it from you.”

Her shoulders dropped and whatever thoughts that were clouding her mind disappeared. 

“I’ll-” the professor heads to the front of the class. “I’ll tell you one day.”

Miguel nods, dropping the subject. 

GymRat!Miguel who is really excited about the future of the class after the first initial day. 

The professor seemed to have a lot of knowledge involving the industry, and even if Miguel couldn’t see himself really tapping into the industry, he enjoyed the banter. 

“Class seems like it’s going to be fun,” Xina says as she walks next to him, bag patting against her hip. 

“That’s a sentence I’ve heard no one ever say.” 

“Oh, shut up,” Xina pushes his shoulder and Miguel fakes being knocked over. “This is coming from the man who got excited about encyclopedias being available for checkout.”

“There was good stuff in there! Not my fault that others didn’t catch on.”

GymRat!Miguel who chats with Xina like old times. 

She looked different, but the core of her was still there. Still the sweet, reserved girl that he remembers. 

“Ah,” Xina looks down at her phone. “I gotta go. Me and my roommates are having a house meeting.”

“You got a quad suite?”

“An apartment! You should come over sometime. We’re going to have a little housewarming party soon.”

“Cool, I’ll be there. See you Thursday?”

Xina grinned wide, hands folding together in front of her, “See you Thursday.”

GymRat!Miguel whose time with you during the day was limited to lunch time. Your studios were stacked along with some general ed classes and he hated it. 

“Miguel, stop pouting, I’m here now!”

“That’s until you have to go mix your paints with others and cut floorboards.”

“I’m not mixing paint with others,” you reach to wipe some salad dressing off of his lip. “I’m mixing paints with other paints. And mineral spirits. And turpenoid.”

Miguel slumped down his chair, petulant. 

“Why can’t I just sit next to you and encourage you?” Call you pretty, stare at you, hold you. 

“Because it’s a college course just like any other class. I just can’t just walk into your labs unannounced.”

“If it were one of my lectures, you probably could.”

You left out a soft breath through your nose, “True. Too bad my classes are three hours long, babe.”

Miguel groaned, “I should have switched my bio class to yours.”

“So you and I both could be distracted all day? Not a chance.”

“No,” Miguel held out the vowel. “I wouldn’t get distracted, I swear! We’d sit at the front of the class to ensure it.”

“And somehow, you’d still find a way to distract yourself.”

Miguel puffed and folded his arms.

“How so?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you shake your cup, seeing if you had any drink left. “Writing me messages on your notes app, spamming emojis, sending naughty pictures in the middle of class.”

“That was one time.”

“One time that my professor almost saw the hairs leading to your-”

“So what you're saying is, you don’t want my chest in your phone?”

“No! I never said that!” 

Miguel smirks and you fall back into your chair with your heart pounding. 

“You’re so mean, I’m going to class early.”

“Baby, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Miguel held your hand to stop you from leaving the table, pulling you to his side. 

“Let go, I’m going to class.”

“Let me walk you there at least?”

Miguel wrapped his arms around you and moved his head wherever your gaze went. 

“Fine, hurry up.”

GymRat!Miguel who finished his lunch in two bites and reached for your portfolio. 

GymRat!Miguel whose heart swelled as you swung his hand on the walk to class. 

“I think we can still make more time for just us. There’s the weekends, your birthday, fall break, winter break, our anniversary,” you sang as you looked up at him. 

“You excited?”

“To spend time with you? Always.”

Miguel felt his cheeks warm at the simple statement. 

“Are you?”

“If I’m not excited to be with you, you’ll know I’m being kidnapped.”

“Stop,” you giggle. 

“It’s true!”

GymRat!Miguel who lingers in the art building while you wait for class to start. 

“Is there anything in particular that you wanted to do for our anniversary?”

You fan your eyes up, “Hm. I’m not picky. As long as it’s close to school. We can save the bigger trips for the future or holidays.”

So no sporadic trips across the country. He can check that off his list. 

“Your face is telling me that you were thinking of something else.”

“No…”

GymRat!Miguel who after two weeks of class could definitely say that his elective was taking more brain power than his science classes combined. 

It was fun, but god, he didn’t understand the point of his professor insisting that they learn C#. 

“This is so stupid,” Miguel grumbled after the third failed attempt to get his program to run. “I think I’m in hell.”

“With me here? No way,” Xina snickered beside him. 

“Yeah, you’re right. Still doesn’t change the fact that this is a program that is completely useless to not only me but the rest of this course.”

“It literally can’t be that bad”

“Look!”

Miguel showed Xina his code and the lack of progress that it seems like he made. 

“That’s ‘cause your lines are wrong, silly.”

She leaned over him, tapping at his computer. Miguel noticed that her tattoo was on display today despite the cool chills coming in as fall approached. 

“There. That should fix it.”

Miguel ran his program again and was filled with relief when it actually did what it was supposed to do. 

“You’re a lifesaver.” 

“Anytime,” she beamed and fanned absentmindedly. “I’m always here to help. I definitely need your guidance for quantum physics.”

“What do you need that class for?”

“My advisor suggested it, but I’m starting to regret it and I can’t afford to drop it.”

“Tell you what, you help me with coding and I’ll help you with physics. Fair trade?”

“Plenty equal to me.”

GymRat!Miguel who smells Xina’s perfume as she helps him for the third time that class. 

It’s sweet and earthy. It reminds him of the time you fed him ice cream on a campus bench not too long ago. 

“What is that? It smells good.”

“Really?” Xina looks over to Miguel with a smile. She leans back and twirls the black strands of her hair. “You like it?”

“Yeah, it’s nice.”

“Thank you.”

GymRat!Miguel who gets invited to Xina’s apartment-warming party. 

“It’s pretty small, and I’ve only made a few friends here so far, but I would love for you to come.”

“For sure, for sure. Should I bring something?”

“No, just you and your body will suffice.”

GymRat!Miguel who laughs with Xina as they exit the class. 

“I’m just saying that if you have time to make merch for your games immediately after the first patch of it does numbers, then you have enough time to improve it and make other parts faster.”

“Game developers have families to feed, ya know?” Xina states. “They can’t just sit at a screen all day, they need quick money like the rest of us.”

“So you sell plushies instead? Whatever happened to ‘hi, hello’ or ‘this is how progress is going this month.’”

“Miguel!”

He turned to where he heard his name, that voice like music to his ears. 

“Bebé!”

GymRat!Miguel who runs to you and spins you around like he hasn’t seen you in years. You squeal into his neck, excited because he’s so excited. 

He puts you down and stands in shock, checking his watch, “I thought you had studio right now?”

“Critique ended super early, so I wanted to surprise you!”

“So the rest of your day is free?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

Miguel would punch the air with glee if he wasn’t in public. 

GymRat!Miguel who turns when you peek your head past him to see Xina standing with a small smile on her face. 

He slots his hand into yours and pulls you over. 

“Xina, meet my girlfriend. Bebé, meet Xina.”

You reach your right hand out, introducing yourself. Xina takes your hand with a grip like a blood pressure machine and a quick introduction. 

When you take your hand back, your eyes do a double take between the two, Miguel oblivious to what just took place. 

You clear your throat, “Do you guys take the same class?”

“Yep, we-”

“We go way, way back,” Xina grins. “Like trading silly bandz and Pokemon cards back.”

“Oh shit, really? So you saw Miguel in his baby days. What was he like?”

“Please don’t say anything embarrassing,” Miguel groans out. 

“Yeah, tell me something good. Something juicy.”

“Hm,” Xina tapped her chin. 

Miguel shook his head behind you, hands clasping together in a pleading motion. 

“Miguel had a crush on me.”

That’s not what he expected Xina to say and from the raised eyebrows on your face, neither did you.

“That’s,” you rock on your feet and adjust your backpack, “definitely something.”

“Yeah! He was so cute running around handing me flowers with the roots still attached. I was too busy trying to be the best ballerina around, though. Right, Hare-Hare?”

“Right,” Miguel looked to the door. “Uh, we’ll see you around Xina.”

“Yeah, see you soon,” her fingers twinkled, chains on her nails dangling. 

GymRat!Miguel who kept waiting for you to say something as you both walked to his car. 

He was excited to eat dinner with you for once, but your silence was scaring him. 

“What’s wrong?” He breaks, sick of his aimless thoughts. 

“I don’t know, Hare-Hare, you tell me.”

“Amor, don’t be upset. It was such a long time ago.”

“That’s fine, I don’t care about that. Why would she bring it up in the first place? I don’t even know her like that.”

“I think she was just nervous, she’s not usually like that.”

“Compared to…?”

“Compared to the kind person I know her to be. Look,” Miguel reached for your hand, voice steady. “I’m sure she’ll open up to you as I’m sure you will to her, ok?”

You blew out a deep breath, “Ok.”

“Trust me?”

“I trust you.”

“Good,” he pecked your lips. “Now let’s go get pizza. I’m starving.”

GymRat!Miguel who still brought a gift to the apartment warming. It felt rude to not show up with something. 

You had recommended a candle, so Miguel went and got something that smelled similar to Xina’s perfume plus a candle warmer in the shape of a flower. 

He knocked on the door, a gift bag in his hand.

After a few seconds, it swung open with a guy who he didn’t have to bend down to look at. 

“Woah,” he said. “You’re huge.”

“Uh, thanks? Is Xina here?”

The guy was brushed to the side to reveal a frazzled Xina. 

“H-hey, Miguel! You came!” Xina clung to him, fingers clammy and breath burning through his shirt. 

“Yeah, of course. Was this the wrong day?”

“No! No, no. You’re right, come on in.”

GymRat!Miguel who felt that the apartment was really nice and Xina’s roommates were a rambunctious bunch. 

Although, he expected the event to be a bit more relaxed. There were people crowded together in the living room, some screaming at a game on the TV, some making their mark on the couch, others dancing out on the balcony. 

Miguel was anxious to say the least. 

GymRat!Miguel who was pulled into Xina’s bedroom, the stench of that sticky, sweet perfume filling his nostrils. 

“Sorry about that, I didn’t know it would get this wild.”

“It’s fine,” Miguel shuffles the bag into her hands. “I just wanted to give you this, then I’ll be on my way.”

“Aw, so soon?”

“Yeah, I’ve got some stuff to catch up on.”

He wanted to get out of here. 

His eyes panned around her room, the style of it matching more to her past self. White lace, lilac and soft pink bows, tiny bunny and hamster families sitting on a shelf above her desk. 

A poster from a franchise that she swore she hated but he loved. Funny. 

Xina dug into the bag pulling out the candle warmer, “Miguel, this is so cu-ute! It’ll be perfect on my desk.”

“I thought you would like it.”

“You do know me very well,” she pulls out the candle and holds it to her nose for cartoonishly amount of time. “This smells fucking amazing. It’s like, like the inside of an ice cream bucket. But in a jar.”

“Xina,” Miguel sits the candle down before she moves the wicks up her nose. “Are you high?”

“Only a little…un poco,” she holds her fingers in a pinch. 

He pushed her hand away from his face. 

“They’re not making you take anything, right?” He pointed back to the door. 

“No, I wanted it to. It’s nice. You should try it sometime. Relax a little.”

Miguel watched Xina’s eyes for a moment, searching for anything, something about how she really felt. For the moment, they were only cloudy and unphased. Miguel supposes that he should be like that too. 

“Maybe another time. I think I’m gonna go.”

“If you must,” she pouted and hung on to his shoulder until they reached the door. 

GymRat!Miguel who finally breathed easier once he was in his car. 

He wondered what to get a person to help them come down from a high easier. 

GymRat!Miguel who didn’t care what Lyla had to say, the arcade was a great idea for the 1st Anniversary date. 

He had it all planned out: pick you up at your dorm door, drive you out, about an hour to the closest city, spend the rest of the night exploring the city, come back to the hotel, breakfast in bed, an afternoon at an art class because you wanted to see him paint, an evening at the arcade, and a night to complete out his Mission B: Virgin No More. 

It was perfect. Immaculate. Sublime. 

GymRat!Miguel who took the term passenger princess more seriously than he needed to. 

“You sure you don’t want me to drive?”

“Nope. Just sit there and look pretty.”

“I might fall asleep.”

“You’ll still be pretty either way.”

GymRat!Miguel who has the most fun going to random stores with you. Sure, there were some boutiques where the owners looked at you both like extra heads were sticking out of your necks, but there were also stores that were cozy and warm. 

You both stayed in the nooks and crannies of stores looking at trinkets, jewelry, books, anything. 

“Miguel, look!” you hold up the tiniest pair of baby shoes he’s ever seen. “How precious is that?”

“Put those down, I don’t need any new ideas.”

“You had old ones?”

GymRat!Miguel who buys a giant puzzle for you both to complete together. It’s a watercolor painting of the night sky and the bright day blending together. 

It was the two of you together in one piece, he had to get it. 

GymRat!Miguel who is giddy that you bought a set of matching silk pajamas for you both to wear. 

He knew you were definitely going to get hot in them, but what are hotels for if not turning up the A/C and cuddling together under the thick, starchy comforters? 

GymRat!Miguel who keeps staring at you through the mirror as you brush your teeth. There’s a fluffy headband keeping your hair out of your face, and you’re only wearing the top of your pajama set. 

He’s no better, only rocking the pants. 

“What?” you say with foamy toothpaste flooding your mouth. 

“Nothing. You’re cute.”

You spit out the toothpaste, “You’re cute!”

GymRat!Miguel who holds you close as you take a bunch of mirror selfies before you both head to sleep. 

GynRat!Miguel who knew this day was starting off right when you came out of the bathroom with your stomach showing. The shirt is like a blessing, mesmerizing in multiple areas, hugging your skin tight but loose enough for him to stick his hands under it. 

“Amor, I don’t know if you know this, but,” Miguel pulls you in between his legs. “We’re supposed to actually make it out of the hotel room today.”

“And we will,” your eyes sparkled. “So until we get back, be good.”

Miguel groaned and peppered searing kisses across your skin, hands hot on the pocket of skin he could see, squeezing and gripping. 

“Do I get a reward?”

You lean and whisper in his ear, breath tickling his skin, “A really, really hot one.”

Miguel's eyes are opened wider when you stand back, neck burning. 

“You’re killing me.”

GymRat!Miguel who really sucks at painting. 

“I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong.”

“Well, to start off, your brush isn’t even clean.”

You guide his hand to his water cup with a giggle, “None of your colors are going to show up if you keep dipping them willy-nilly.”

“Ok, but how come your hearts are so much better than mine? We both followed the teacher.”

Your eyes looked from your uniformed artwork, colors tangling together intricately and shapes flowy to Miguel’s canvas that had dripping paint, a bad mix of oversaturation, and wobbly shapes. 

“You know, I’m not completely sure how you managed that, babe. What matters is that you did it with love,” you say noticing both of your initials in one of the best hearts on the page. 

“Maybe you’ll be better at pottery? Mosaic?”

“I think you just enjoy laughing at my expense.”

GymRat!Miguel who rolled the sleeves of his sweater up when it was time to play arcade games. 

He had to look good, show off, and earn prizes. 

You watched with heavy eyes as he geared up to play the boxing game. 

He made the boyfriend outfit look even more yummy, with his button-down peeking from under his blue sweater to match your outfit and his big jeans hugging his waist. 

With a heavy swing, the machine seemed like it lifted off the ground with the force he gave it. His face was so serious as he waited for the score and you were inching closer to insanity. 

The machine faltered, red dashes dancing across the screen. 

“Did you break it?”

“Uh. I hope not.”

After what felt like a moment in which you both probably should have run away or called a worker, the machine blinks back to life. 

“No way.”

A max score of 999 stared back at you both and the card machine lit up with rainbow colors. 

You held his hand in yours, looking at his knuckles for any bruises or blemishes. When you stared up at Miguel incredulously, he had a goofy smile on his face. 

GymRat!Miguel who may have been more competitive than he needed to be. 

You yelled as his score kept inching away from yours on the basketball arcade game. 

“You’re, like, as tall as the machine! You’re cheating!”

“It has nothing to do with height, chiquita.”

You groan out a sound of frustration as you miss your shots, messing up your streak. 

The timer goes out, Miguel winning by a landslide. 

You push your head back as Miguel celebrates. 

GymRat!Miguel who keeps this song-and-dance up for the rest of the night. Sometimes you would win, sometimes he would win. 

His final strike was when you both were in one of those FPS games that required you both to be crammed inside of a dark box. 

“Miguel, stop taking my fucking shots!”

“Oo, she’s getting feisty with me now.”

You thought quickly and leaned over. With an eye on the screen and the intention to rile him up, you moan his name right in his ear, breath needy and warm. You lick at his jaw to seal the deal and turn back. 

Like paper, Miguel folds, and his aim becomes absolutely terrible. 

“W-why would you do that?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to feel that bad as “Player 1: Bunny WINS” and “Player 2: Bear LOSES” jumped across the screen. 

You kiss Miguel on his cheek as he readjusts his pants with a frown on his face. 

GymRat!Miguel who could hear his heartbeat in his ears on the elevator ride back up to the room. 

You were holding onto the giant plushie he gave blood, sweat, and tears to earn, saying that it reminded you of him. 

Miguel, on the other hand, was digging his nails into his palm and opening the collar of his sweater sporadically. 

“You alright?” you say, placing a hand on his elbow.

“I might pass out.”

“Miguel,” you hold him close as you both walk to the door. “You gotta calm down.”

“I am! I’m just nervous.”

“You’re shaking.”

Miguel’s hands tremored as he ran the key card over the censor.

GymRat!Miguel who let you hold his hands as you kissed over his wrists. 

He was so dear to you. His presence, like a beautiful spark.

“You’re so sweet.” A kiss to his palm. “The sweetest there is. I adore you.”

Miguel took a shuddered breath as he watched you, heart rushing to his ears.

GymRat!Miguel who is more calm when you both start to remove your clothes. It wasn’t steamy and desperate like he imagined. It was slow, intimate, and quiet. 

It was like seeing you all over again for the first time when he helped you take off your shirt. It was like stepping into new territory when you held his jeans so he could step out of them. You both took turns taking off an article of clothing, savoring the moment. 

Miguel fumbled a bit when he was met with you the clasps of your bra, fingers knocking against each other.

When the time comes, after what was an hour or so of touching, feeling, and existing within each other, your hands fumble with the condom.

Miguel feels out of his body as you slide it down with care, hands moving as if you were molding clay. 

It wasn’t until he was on top of you that he felt that this was really happening. The foreplay between you a spot of comfort and habit.

After so long, he finally slid in deep, the pit of his stomach quivering. You were so unbearably tight.

“Y-you ok?” Miguel squeezed onto your hand, watching your eyebrows knit together. 

“Yeah, it’s just,” you chuckle, breath almost gone from the feeling of him. “You’re really big.”

Miguel’s face shifted from worried to shocked. 

“Oh! Well, I guess that’s a good thing?”

“You don’t have to guess, I can feel it.”

Miguel twitched and jolted involuntarily, causing you to whimper, your words going straight south. 

“Miguel! Stop moving.”

“Sorry! You’re really tight right now and I’m trying to focus.” 

“God,” you sigh and let your head drop to your pillow. “Are we even doing this right?”

“No clue.”

Miguel kissed your collarbone as you wrapped your arms under his. He continued to kiss across your shoulders, lips light and airy. Up your neck to your jaw, he could feel you relax and breathe a little easier. 

He grazes his mouth to your cheeks, humming as you move them closer to his lips. He kisses your temple, your eyebrows, your forehead. At your nose, you start to giggle, Miguel’s kisses leaving flutters on your skin. 

Miguel joins in on your joy, grinning as you try to return the pecks. 

“Ok,” you whisper. “I think I’m ready. You can move now.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. I want you to make me feel good. I want you to feel good.”

Miguel looked at your eyes, waiting, wanting, open. He couldn’t help but to think how lucky he was to have a girl like you who was just so beautiful and lovely. 

His body is pressed against yours, the plush of your chest molding onto his. Your legs were wrapped around his thighs and your fingers danced across his back. 

He takes a hand to hold the side of your face while the other one is pressing you even closer to him. He moves out as best as he can, the warmth of you an addicting feeling, and slides back in slowly, a shallow thrust to start off. 

Your breath was hot against his mouth as you shuddered. Miguel groaned, feeling the heat of you through the thin condom. 

He moved again, watching as your face twisted and turned. Your hands are pressed against his back, palms applying pressure until the feeling stretches to your fingertips. The pricks of your nails dig softly into Miguel’s skin, muscles moving as he tucks your hair away from your face. 

By the third thrust, Miguel is moaning out, overwhelmed with you everywhere. When he breathes, you breathe. When he tightens his hand on your back, you tighten yours. When the feeling of you becomes too much to bear, you’re right there with him, eyes heavy and wet. 

Everything was heightened, from the sound of the bed squeaking as Miguel’s hips moved, to the little sounds you made when he inched in deeper. He’s scared he might shout in your face due to how good you feel so he presses against your lips, grunts coming out with each thrust. 

You take him with stride, hands balling up to fists as he gets deeper and deeper. 

His name from your lips is broken down from two syllables to four, enunciation clear enough for Miguel to know that he’s doing something right. 

“Don’t stop,” you plead, gaze reaching Miguel’s soul. “Please.”

“I won’t.” He would never leave if he had the choice. “Am I, shit, am I doing good? Do you feel alright?”

He shifts back to see your face and his heart speeds up watching you under him. Your arms fall to the bed and your mouth stutters open as Miguel continues. 

Your eyes drip as you let out staccato moans and Miguel leans down to kiss away your tears. 

“C’mon, bebé, let me know.”

You nod your head and cry out when Miguel goes even deeper. He hums against your mouth as a thank you. 

“Miggy, I,” you stop as you take a breath. 

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

A rush of heat from top to bottom filled Miguel’s core. The air left his lungs swiftly and came back in twice as fast. His back shook, nerves like a spring. All he could hear was your breaths, all he could smell was your warm skin, all he could taste was the lingering touch of your tongue, all could feel was the hot valley of you, all he could see was you.

He dies and comes back to life, sight piecing together that the stars and hearts were not part of you but they were just his muddled brain taking you in like the first day he met you. His throat burns like he swallowed hot coal. 

Your mouth is moving but he still can’t connect the words yet. He feels himself floating away. 

“Baby?” the way that your hands grip his body ground him. “Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” Miguel nods, eyes blinking fast. “What just happened.”

“I think you came?”

Miguel looked down, and sure enough, you were right. 

He doesn’t remember you getting any relief. 

“Can I-” he groans as you clamp down on him when tries to pull out. “Can we do that again?”

You nod your head, “Please.” 

GymRat!Miguel who, after a brand new condom and a clearer mind, realizes that he has a lot of work to do. 

He knew that you were his everything, but he couldn’t deny that he was a little embarrassed. You swore to him that it was ok, flattering even, but Miguel isn’t buying it. 

Your legs were bent at his sides as he lifted your hips off the mattress. He held them up as he stroked deep and focused on the sound of your breaths. 

“B-baby,” your voice is stunted as Miguel keeps a steady tempo. “Look at me”

Miguel groans into your neck, shuddering from the sound of your voice and your hands rubbing his sides. Your moans were high in your throat, breaking as Miguel’s hands pushed and pulled at your skin. 

“I can’t.”

“Why,” your words fizzle as Miguel hits a sweet spot. “Why not?”

“If I look at you, I’m gonna cum.”

Miguel goes faster as he feels you constrict against him. The bed creaks as the sound of him delving into you gets louder and louder. 

“Oh,” your nails scratch his back. Miguel matches your voice, desperate to please you. 

You open your mouth again, a three-letter phrase ghosting your tongue. 

“D-don’t,” Miguel’s hips freeze and unfreeze as he hears the first vowel leave your mouth.

“I wanna see you.”

Miguel shifts, eyes finding yours, and he knows he won’t make it. 

He tells you just as much and you pull him closer. 

“Te amo, mi luna.”

Miguel cries as he feels the air leaving him. He reaches down to touch you, your body jolting when his fingers graze your clit. 

You cum around him and he pushed through, waiting until you were shaking to let go. 

“You,” Miguel leans his forehead on yours. Both of you are shaking, blood pumping with adrenaline. “Play so unfair.”

“But you love me?”

He cuddles into your thumbs wiping at his eyes, “So much. I love you so, so much.”

You kiss him, feeling warm and satisfied, sighing as he melts on top of you. You run your fingers through his wild hair and scratch at his name. 

After a while, Miguel perks up, eyes sparkly and big like a little puppy. 

“A-again.”

“What?”

GymRat!Miguel who pulls you to the edge of the bed by your legs. You yelp at his strength and the icy pricks of the hotel A/C coating your overheating skin. 

Miguel slides back in with a practiced ease, the angle different, but not unfamiliar. 

He held your legs and hips from the bed, watching as your body moved from the faster momentum he produced. 

Your voice reaches the ceiling as your hands grip for anything. Seeing your reaction, Miguel grips your hips and your stomach, angling even deeper. It was fulfilling until your hands landed on your chest, stopping them from jerking so.

Miguel pulled your wrists together and down, watching as your arms framed your chest. He moans out your name, eyes stuck on the picture presented before him. 

How could anyone ever believe you were not beautiful? 

GymRat!Miguel who can’t help but to ask for one more round. In your disheveled state, you tell him it’s the last one. 

The sounds leaving your bodies were enough to make the bed blush. It was something so perfect about the whispers you mewled into each other's skin contrasting the wet sound of Miguel slapping into your wet entrance. 

Somehow you were nearly bent in half, knees almost next to your ears, as Miguel’s feet were planted on the bed. You didn’t even know your body could do that. 

At every smack of skin, Miguel was moaning your name louder and louder, mind completely gone. 

“I’m, ngh, gonna cum!” Your voice comes out at a volume that matches his. 

Miguel nods, encouraging you to release, kissing along your skin. 

You shout as he swerves his hips, melting your cour as he slides along your sweet spots. 

“So good,” Miguel says, balls twitching against you as crumbles to the bed. “So amazing. Mi luz, mi sol.”

The two of you catch your breath in the dim hotel lighting, jolting with aftershocks of your anniversary. 

GymRat!Miguel who held you on his chest as you slept, lips pressed against the top of your head. He checked his phone before going to sleep, wanting to set a timer for the morning. 

A Game Exchange’s Worst Nightmare

Miggy Mig MC: I did it

Winner-Winner: ???

Ly(ability)la: Only you would announce losing your virginity like that

Tempie: omg

You’re not a baby anymore 🥺

What am I gonna do

Winner-Winner: WAIT

LESGOOOO

Tempie: I never thought this day would come

Winner-Winner: you was tearing it up wasn’t you? 🤪

Ly(ability)la: you’re so annoying

Tempie: like I didn’t prepare fast enough

I

I WASNT READY

Winner-Winner: I hope you did that trick I taught you

It gets em every time

Guaranteed banger

Tempie: This actually ruined my night

Ly(ability)la: Temp is losing it and so is Wins

Congrats to you ig

Winner-Winner: I bet she’s KNOCKED OUUOOT

Ly(ability)la: is being normal like not in your cards or…

Tempie: I think I’m sick

Miggy Mig MC: .....

Gabri 🤏🏽🤡:

“I did it”

“No fucking way"

"NO FUCKING WAY"

"AND? AND SO?"

“It was just as good as you say. That’s all I’m saying.”

"I feel like I need to throw something on the grill"

“Not too much Gabri”

GymRat!Miguel who wrapped his arms around you as you fixed up something the next morning. 

“G’morning,” you say to a heavy Miguel leaning down on you. 

“Super good morning,” his hands reach to cup your left breast and your stomach under your robe. He left a long kiss on your shoulder. “Whatcha doing?”

“‘M getting your gift together.”

“Another one?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Well, let me step up my game.’

GymRat!Miguel who sits with you on the bed as you both trade gifts.

“Aw, Miguel! How am I supposed to eat these? You look so cute here,” you took a piece of candy in your hand and looked his face planted on it. 

“Like this,” Miguel takes your hand and guides the candy to his mouth. 

You smile watching him, body warm. 

GymRat!Miguel who watches your eyes glow when you see the dolphin charm with the date that you two took our first date. 

“Put it on me?”

Miguel slid the jewelry over your skin, watching as gold danced against your skin.

GymRat!Miguel who feels like crying when flipped through the scrapbook you made. Each section matched a song in the playlist you made for him. 

It was so thoroughly crafted and thought out that Miguel couldn’t stop the waterworks. 

“Why did I think that outfit was cool?” Miguel laughed wetly as he saw a picture of you both at a pumpkin patch.

“You look adorable,” you catch his tear on your thumb and hug his side.

GymRat!Miguel who drops you off at your dorm with kiss after kiss to your lips. 

Jess opens the door with a dramatic sigh, “The two of you are glowing. How cute.”

GymRat!Miguel who reaches back to his night with you every time he’s sick of the class he’s in. 

A little bit dangerous when it comes to his labs, but everything is reminding him of you. He can’t even look at his blanket without thinking about the way your shirt draped your body. 

Maybe he should make love to you with it next time.

GymRat!Miguel who is in a daze during his programming lab. 

“Earth to Miguel. Did you finish the mini code?”

“Uh, yeah,” Miguel replied to Xina. 

“Good, because I need you to check this equation really quick. I need to turn it in later this week.”

Miguel leaned over to Xina’s laptop, arm reaching across her. 

“So,” she slides her nails up his arm. “What do you think?”

“It’s fine. This part is very wrong, though.”

She squeezes at his muscle, chest pressing on him.

“Are you cold or something?”

“No, why do you ask?”

“Because,” Miguel slides her laptop in front of him. “You’re really touchy today.”

“Miguel, I’m always touchy.”

She puts an arm on the back of her rolling chair and leans on her wrist. 

“True.”

“Is there a problem with friendly touches?”

“No, Xina. I’m not like that.”

“Ok,” she holds her hands up in defense. “I’m just trying to understand.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“That,” Miguel says turning to her, “Being weird. Overstepping.”

Xina folds her arms and nods her head, “I got it.”

GymRat!Miguel whose time with you dwindles within the next couple of weeks. If it’s not studying, it’s the robotics team. If it’s not the robotics team, it’s his class schedule never matching yours. If it’s not your studios, it’s his study sessions with Xina. 

Currently, she was sitting beside him on the first floor of the library, head on his shoulder as she sighed over a new formula. 

“This is so gross,” she said, wiping away eraser shavings.

“Did you even try?”

“Like, once. That was enough.”

GymRat!Miguel who gets your text and looks up to where he knew you’d come from. He felt like he could feel you close, but the entrance was so far away he couldn’t see. 

He got up for a second, turning and standing tall to catch a glimpse. 

“I know you’re not about to give up this. You said it was easy! That’s not the Miguel I know,” Xina grabbed his wrist, hands unbearably hot. 

His phone buzzed again. You said you were going back to your studio. 

He sighed and sat back down, mind foggy.

divider by: @thecutestgrotto + @adornedwithlight 🩵

a/n: Y'all know that gif with the smoking duck? I feel like that but I would replace the cigarette with an Icee or something.

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[ozzgin]

Okay but imagine this grumpy dragon with his silly sunshine human. Know human knows how much the dragon cares for them and they know the dragon won't let any harm come to them. But this silly little human let's impulsive thoughts sometimes win. So imagine the human taking a leap of faith just to get a react out of their dragon partner.

(Honestly I'm imagining this as a human princess, she just wants to see the forest and run through it. I just like imagining falling in one of those pretty dresses and the dragon catching you. But he lectures you the whole time)

Ok ok hear me out, goofy Reader who's always had a crush on her family's dragon, and the dragon who was always aware and just kind of went along with it because it's cute. Except now it's officially happening. Content: female reader, monster romance, parody

"I am ready to be the sacrificial bride."

"...The what?"

The King - your father - looks up from his book with a confused expression.

"You know, for the dragon", you clarify, mildly annoyed by his obliviousness. "The one guarding our Kingdom?"

"Oh, sweetie..." he begins, "no one does that anymore. We have a yearly contract."

What a load of nonsense. You stomp up the stairs, heading for the top of the tower. It's fine, you tell yourself. So what if you don't have an excuse to flirt with the beast? You can just come clean and confess your feelings either way.

Above the roof, the gargantuan monster yawns lazily. He can hear your angry footsteps, and he knows exactly why you're coming. You're not the most discreet suitor, you see.

He's been looking after you for years already, earning the grand title of benevolent guardian who keeps you out of danger. No one has a grasp on you quite like he does. It is only natural, then, that he could read your longing stares, or the dreamy sighs as you’d nudge yourself one inch closer to his frame.

Oh, he knew very well that you didn’t “accidentally” end up in this or that kind of trouble, especially because your terrified shrieks would immediately turn into a beaming smile upon his arrival.

He grunts, preparing himself to face you.

You explain your side while he nods along monotonously. Pointless to argue, really. He'll just say yes. After all, why not? You're kind of annoying, but at least you're cute. Maybe this way, if you're officially "dating", you'll be less clingy, and he can do his job in peace.

"Really?" you repeat, eyes wide in delight.

Before he can confirm his intentions, you begin to unbutton your dress.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I thought we're going to consummate the relationship", you respond sheepishly.

Good Lord, you're a helpless horndog. What would he even tell your father? Somewhere, deep into the royal gardens, the King sneezes loudly and jokes about his daughter being up to no good.

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[f1fantasys]

BROKE

Warnings - explicit smut, minors dni, male and female receiving oral, blowjobs, fingering, sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, swearing. HEAVY ANGST

A/N - hope you all enjoy this. I had some much fun writing it and it’s one of my longest fics I’ve written. Please leave suggestions in the comments and requests are always open!

5K+

The breakup was messy. You'd dated Lando for 2 years, but had known him for much longer than that. He was your everything, and you thought he'd remain that forever. But you were wrong. So wrong. Here you were, 6 months after the breakup and you heart was still breaking into pieces with each passing second.

You were a social media content creator for f1, and obviously Lando being a driver, meant you had spent a lot of time together, both in front of and behind the camera for about 3 years, until Lando asked you out and well, the rest was history. You both fell ferociously in love with each other - only for it to end in shatters.

Things were more than perfect at the end of last year. You'd had the most incredible winter break, and for the first time, you even spoke about getting married one day.

You were spending the last few days of the break on a ski trip in Finland. Lando had rented the coziest little cottage with a lush interior and fancy fire places to keep you warm from the blazing snow outside. The day had been filled with laughs and falls while skiing, and once you made it back in doors Lando jumped you in the shower. He pushed you to the wall, attacking your lips with his own, sliding his tongue into your mouth, exploring it. You were a moaning mess as you felt his hand slide down to your core, pinching and pulling at your clit as he slid two fingers in at once. ''Oh Lan'' you moaned into his ear, palming his throbbing dick and feeling it twitch in your hand, causing his breath to hitch at the sensation. ''Gonna fuck you senseless, yeah?'' he asked, before lowering to his knees, eyes not leaving yours. All you could do was nod your head and bite your lip as he licked a stripe up your cunt, collecting all your juices and using them as a lube to easily slide his tongue through your entrance. You pulled at his hair as he thrust in and out of you, shamelessly moaning the most obscene noises you could muster, as you released and came all over his mouth, shaking in his hands. He made sure to swallow everything before leaning up and kissing you with urgency, before he pushed you down by your shoulders to sit on your own knees now. You pumped him a few times as you spread his pre cum across his slit before you leaned forward and deep throated him, gagging in the process. Your hands pumped whatever you couldn't fit in as he held your hair out of your face, praising your name through gritted teeth. ''Taking me so fucking well baby'' he mumbled. He took a hold of your head now and fucked himself in and out of your mouth relentlessly, hardly giving you any room to breath. A few minutes later his movements were sloppy and his dick started twitching as you felt him shoot sheets of warm, salty cum down the back of your throat. You rode him through his orgasm before standing up again. He man handled you to face the other way, pulling your ass out and thrusting into you immediately, rough and fast. Your palms were flat on the wall as he pushed the side of your face against the cool tiles and fucked into you, whispering dirty nothings into your ear. His one hand snaked around your throat, applying some pressure as he continued his activities, telling how tight and how good you were for him, until your body was shaking and shuddering with the intense orgasm. He pulled out and somehow go the both of you out of the shower, before lifting you to sit on the counter by the sink. He spread your legs open and stuffed himself back into you, taking a hold onto your waist as your hands found and squeezed at his biceps. You came a third and fourth time before Lando was emptying his load into you, fucking it as far in as he could. You leaned forward on him, breathless, chuckling at the quick turn of events. He told you he loved you, you did the same. The night didn't end there though. Lando had fucked you in the kitchen again, ate you out in lounge on the floor by the fireplace, as well as in the hot tub, before you decided you wanted to taste again him so you gave him head so good he thought his mind might just explode. It was as if you were both starved of each other and hadn't had sex in days, though it was quite the opposite. You did the nasty almost everyday since the winter break started, and you still couldn't get enough of each other. When Lando fucked you for the last time that night, as you both lay in bed, he told you how you changed his life for the better, how he's never loved anyone as much as he loves you, and how he doesn't plan on loving anyone else but you. Tears prickled the corners of your eyes hearing him say all that. And as you both came in unison, Lando told you how one day he was going to marry you and how you'd start a family together. You had told him you wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of your life with him. It was incredible while it lasted.

As the season started and Lando's head was focused on the world championships, and you slowly started to feel him slip away, race by race. You figured it was just the stress of it all that was causing him to shut you out.

Although you were a presenter for sky, it didn't mean you were at every race. You were often back at HQ in England, streaming from there or preparing notes for the next races you were to attend.

You would face time as best you could with the different time zones, and you always tried to be home in Monaco whenever he was. Normally he would run into your arms at first sight and pepper you in kisses, tell you how much he missed you. But by the 5th race he had distanced himself so much that all you got when he walked through the door was a ''hey'' and a retreat to your bedroom.

As the races continued your face times became less frequent, and most of your messages to him went un-answered. If my any miracle he did reply, it was just a short one or two word response. No more ''I love you's'' at the end.

The one day, when he was in Canada and had actually picked up your call, you asked him what was going on.

''Lan, is everything ok? You've been distancing yourself so much lately and I miss you, I really do'' you said through the screen.

He sighed. ''You know y/n, I have to focus on my job, keep my mind where I'm needed mentally and physically. It's not like I can race cars sitting at a desk like you do. I have to actually be here, and I thought I'd have more support from you to come to my races.''

Wait, what? Was he actually saying this to you right now? He'd always respected and supported your job, and now all of a sudden that's a problem for him?

''Lan, what? You know I come to as many races as possible, and it's also a job where I'm needed physically at HQ, but we've always made it work, and we always communicate as much as possible when we're apart. You know I always support you, even if I'm not there in person. Where is all this coming from?'' you asked, desperation in your eyes.

''Whatever, I can't deal with this now'' he said, before ending the call.

You scoffed, if he couldn't then you couldn't be arsed to deal with it now either.

He'd returned home the day before you did. He'd text you the morning you were supposed to arrive that he was going on a golfing trip with Carlos for a few days.

You were upset at the fact that he was choosing to spend his time home away from you, when he knew you wouldn't be going to the next 2 races. You'd tried to distract yourself and meet up with the other wags that were in town but it only made you more upset listening to how perfect their relationships seemed at the moment.

4 days later, Lando returned home. You were in the kitchen preparing lunch as he just walked through the door, ignoring you, and straight to your room.

You both were too stubborn to say anything for the rest of the day. You'd eaten in silence and done your own things until you went to bed. Normally he would be cuddling you from behind, kissing you breathless, but tonight you slept as far as possible though on the same bed.

What you weren't expecting was to be waking up the next morning with Lando hovering above you and pushing his dick into you. You moaned at the contact and instinctively bought your hands up to cup his face and pull him in for an urgent kiss, wrapping your legs around him as tight as you could. He set a quick, fast pace, fucking into your core eagerly. Your nails dug into his skin as your body trembled, reaching your orgasm quicker than usual because you were so desperate for a release, and it wasn't long until Lando was emptying himself into you. This time he pulled out straight away and went to the bathroom - to clean himself up - not you - before he jumped in the shower and then merely said he has paddle with the boys, leaving you hornier for more.

That was the last time he fucked you. He didn't touch you after that. One day, after the next race when you were both home again, you'd had a silly argument, both throwing metaphoric daggers at each other, and so Lando had been streaming all day, not interacting with you at all. You were in the lounge watching tv as you heard quiet moans coming from his streaming room. You quickly got up and silently walked to the room where the door was slightly jar. You watched as Lando had his cock in his hands, jerking off while watching porn.

You couldn't help but let a tear slide down your cheek as to what extent he was willing to go to to not be with you. But you still loved him, so you let it slide and busied yourself doing other things.

You'd caught him getting himself off a few more times - once in the bathroom in the middle of the night, once right next to you in bed, while he thought you were sleeping, and once sitting in his car just as you'd returned home from doing some shopping.

The one race you were working at, he again ignored you more times than you could count, and you'd ended up having multiple arguments about stupid things all 5 days that you were there. You'd both said hurtful things to each other, things you never thought you would say

You were reaching your breaking point now, he was not talking to you, not touching you, just shutting you out in every way possible, so you decided you needed to confront him about it.

At the start of summer break, the one day, Lando was sitting out on the balcony, watching the sunset, alone, a beer in hand.

You walked out and sat next to him, staring out at the beautiful Monaco view, before you looked at him and started talking.

''Lando, please talk to me. What's going on'' you said softly as you tried to keep you tears at bay.

Lando looked at you, for what felt like the fist time in months, his eyes beautiful as ever but not holding the usual warmth and love he once held for you.

''There's really nothing to talk about'' he said quietly, turning away from you.

''What do you mean? You've distanced yourself from me for months, and I've kept quiet, but you need to talk to me, tell me what's bothering you or what I'm doing wrong, because clearly I seem to be the problem here'' you said, the tears threatening to spill any second.

''Why does everything have to be about you? Fuck. You're so fucking needy all the time. Always calling and texting and trying to get my attention when I have more important things to deal with. If you want my attention so much then why the fuck aren't you at all my races?'' he spat.

''Is this what this is about? Me not coming to all your races?'' you asked, not believing it.

''I told you, it's not all about you.'' he said, throwing daggers at you.

''Lando, you're not making any sense. You say I'm needy then you blame me for not going to races. Where is all this coming from? Our communication has dropped so low. You seem to want to me away from me at al times. You don't talk to me, you don't do anything with me these days. You haven't even fucking touched me in months'' you say.

''Oh so now its about me not touching you? I don't have time for shit like that anymore'' he said, standing up and leaning against the balcony.

''It's about everything, Lan. How did we let our relationship sink this low? And don't think I didn't fucking catch you getting yourself off all those times after we last fucked'' you spat back, also standing up now.

His gaze on you turned angry. ''Ugh I'm so fucking sick of it all. All the whining and irritation. Take a fucking hint, y/n'' he said through gritted teeth, shouting at you now.

''So is this it then? Just throw away years of friendship and love because YOU let our relationship sink?'' you asked, voice softening, the tears falling uncontrollably now.

''The doors' fucking open'' he said, pointing at the door.

You heart shattered as he said that. He gave up on you, and now he was practically telling you to leave.

You stood there, frozen, before he spoke again.

''If you won't then i fucking will'' he said harshly, walking away from you and out of the door.

Your body went into shock. You managed to tremble inside before your legs gave way and you sat on the floor by the sofa. A series of wrecks ripping through your body.

You cried so much that night, your heart broken into a million pieces all by the person you loved the most.

On a different occasion, you knew Lando would rush back to you, apologize and ask for your forgiveness. But something in the way he spoke and looked at you tonight told you that this was really the end. He was done with you.

You didn't hear from him again after that. You tried, so hard to move on without him in your life. You packed your bags and left the apartment, finding a smaller place for yourself. Your job was still your passion, so you stuck with it, requesting to spend as much time as possible at HQ rather than going to races, to which your bosses kindly agreed to because they knew your relationship with Lando and how much you were struggling.

You closed off from mutual friends, even the wags, because all they did was remind you of what you once had with Lando. Carmen though stuck by your side through it all. She was your lifeline. Everyday felt like the worst day of your life, reliving the break up over and over again. By now you felt like you were functioning just for the sake of it.

Last month you even went on a date, but all you did the whole night was compare him to Lando - the Lando that you loved, not that broke your heart. You ended up saying you were feeling sick and left early.

Nothing was helping you move on. All you thought of 24 hours a day was what was and what should have been.

Lando though, didn't seem phased by anything. You often caught yourself looking at his Instagram account to see how he was doing, though you knew it was the worst thing to do. Gossip accounts would post regular updates of him walking out of clubs beaming, happier than ever, with a new girl at his side every time. It broke you how quickly he moved on. How okay he was without you, yet here you were trying to hate him and be angry at him, but not able to diminish the love you will probably always feel for him.

Your boss this morning had just told you that you had to go for the next race in Singapore. They desperately needed you back on their screens and the more you though of it, you needed to get back out there and move on with your life. You needed to block Lando, your lover, as much as you could, and only deal with Lando the driver.

You were excited to finally go to a race, you absolutely loved it and maybe it was a good first step for you. Sky had assured you that you would only be working with Ferraro this weekend, and have nothing to do with Mclaren.

It was also good to finally catch up with some of the other wags and your Sky girlfriends. After the first night out with them, you knew you were stronger than you thought and you knew you'd be okay.

It was media day today. You'd opted for a simple body-con dress, nothing too fancy or showy.

You held your breath as you entered the paddock. For the first time in over two years you were entering alone, not with Lando holding your hand, and your heart couldn't help but ache at the though of it.

But you quickly screwed your head back on and made a bee-line for the Ferrari garage. Charles' eyes brightened as soon as he saw you, rushing over to hug you. ''Y/n, its so good to see you again, we've really missed you the last few races'' he gushed.

''Ah it's good to see you too Char, and I'm so happy Alex is here so we can catch up!'' you said, jumping slightly when Carlos appeared out of nowhere and pulled you in for a hug.

''Our favorite presenter is finally back where she belongs'' he squealed.

The day was going well, you managed to do all your work in the Ferrari garage, as well as record a few bits for the pre-race shows. That was until you were being pulled into the driver press conferences to take notes for Craig Slater as his usual colleague fell ill.

You walked behind Craig, following him into the room and as you looked up you locked eyes with none other than Lando.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you took him in. He still looked handsome as ever, though his expression of initial shock of seeing you quickly turned to a frustrated look, clenching his jaw.

You sat down, hands shaking, and tried to concentrate on what you were here for. You listened carefully to the questions and answers, and when Craig asked Lando a question he couldn't have made it more obvious that he was not happy to be here let alone answering ridiculous questions. He shot daggers at everyone, replying sarcastic and cocky answers wherever he could.

As soon as the press conference was over he shot out of his seat and bee lined through the door. You let out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding in. You walked into a passage and saw George came over to you and engulfed you in a tight hug. He knew how Lando had hurt you because of Carmen. You also knew you could trust him.

You couldn't help but break down completely in his arms, your sobs over taking your body as he held on to you and let you cry. ''You're okay, y/n, shh'' he whispered into your hair. ''Why does he look at me like he hates me?''you sobbed. ''Y/n, no he doesn't. He's just being an ass'' George reassured you'' After a few minutes you said ''I'm sorry.'' ''Hey, don't be sorry. I'm here for you whenever you need me'' he said, pulling back and looking into your eyes sincerely. He wipes your tears from your face and told you he'd give you a ride back to the hotel since you were staying at the same one.

You managed to calm down on the ride back. ''Call me if you need anything, anytime of the night'' George said, walking up to your room with you.

As you settled in bed that night your mind couldn't help but replay the once good times of yours and Lando's relationship. Your tears returned as you cried into your pillow. No matter how much you try to forget him and move on, your heart strings are still gravitating towards him.

Just as you were about to fall asleep your phone buzzed with a message. When you turned it over and saw who it was, your heart skipped a beat. It was him.

''Why the fuck are you here Y/n?'' was all he said.

''It's still my job Lando'' you replied, not sure which way this was going.

His next message sent another dagger through your heart-

''I don't want to be fucking anywhere near you''

By now you were full on sobbing again. How has he just forgotten everything from the last few years. He's literally talking to you like he hates you and can't stand the sight of you. You really didn't even know what to respond.

''Well you don't have to worry about that. I'm with Ferrari all weekend''

He didn't reply anything after that. Needless to say you cried yourself to sleep that night.

You got up early the next morning and went for a run to clear your mind. You needed to concentrate on work so you threw yourself in as soon as you got to the paddock. Filming with Charles and Carlos was always a fun time and they had lightened up your mood for a bit until they had to get into their cars for FP1 & 2.

At the end of the day, you'd stayed behind to finish some work up. Just as you were packing up you heard the door open, expecting it to me a mechanic or someone from Ferrari hospitality but when you looked up you were internally shaking. Lando.

He stood there, looking at you with the same disgust he'd shown you yesterday. Yes he still looked handsome but he also looked tired and worn out. Hair messy, eyes red. He didn't say anything right away.

Instead you both just looked at one another for multiple seconds. You tried to keep your composure and not let him see how broken you were. But with each passing second you were failing.

You finally cleared your throat and said his name, rolling it off your tongue left a bitter taste on it.

''Lan Lando'' you said, holding your breath.

His voice was firm but soft. ''Why the hell are you are y/n?'' he asked the same question as his text.

You sighed. ''I told you I still work with Sky. It's my job and I love it. I'm not going to leave just because you don't want me here'' you said, surprised at how you held your words with saying that.

Now it was his turn to sigh. ''But what don't you fucking understand'' he almost shouted, putting his hands in his pockets. ''I don't want to fucking be around you. I don't want to associate you with my love for racing, so stop coming here'' he spat.

You let a few tears roll down your cheek, heart breaking all over again at his words. ''Lando what did I ever do to you to make you hate me like this. Why? Why did you distance yourself and why did you walk away from me?'' you whispered.

He shook his head. ''All I know is that we were a mistake. We were wrong in so many ways, and I wish we had nothing to do with each other'' he said in a low voice.

By now you were struggling to breath, literally. You sat yourself back down and held your head in your shaky hands, your mind refusing to believe he was saying all of this to you. You were having a full on panic attack in front of him.

Gasping for air, you looked at him again. ''Lando I-I-'' you said, begging him to do or say something to calm you down. He was always the one who would do so and now he was the one causing the pain.

You shut your eyes and took a few deep breaths while he just stood there and looked at you.

This was it, you thought. You had to find a way to let him go and live your life with him in the past. You won't let yourself continue to love someone who doesn't love you back. Someone who hurt you in so many ways and who said painful things about your relationship in which you were at your happiest.

Just as you were about to look up again you felt hands on your knees. You gasped as you saw Lando leaning down, tears in his own eyes. He squeezed your knees and opened his mouth to talk but nothing came out. Instead his tears spilled over onto his cheeks. His touch sent a jot of electricity through your body.

You placed your hands on top of his and smiled through your tears. ''I'll go, you wont have to worry about being near me anymore'' you whispered, though he quickly shook his head.

''Yes, I'll be fine. You'll be fine'' you said, even though you didn't believe yourself one bit.

What you didn't know was Lando's side of the story.

Everything was perfect. You were both in love. Life was good, more than good. Then this year came along, and Mclaren suddenly had a competitive car. He was closer than ever to be in contention for both drivers' and constructors' championships. He didn't know how to handle the highs and lows, the pleasure and pain. And instead of coming to you for help, he pushed you away. He became the nastiest person he'd ever been. He hurt you in ways you never deserved in a million years, thinking it'd be easier if you hated him, that way he can focus on racing. But boy was he wrong. Distancing himself from you in the beginning was frustrating and felt wrong in so many ways, but he pushed himself away from you, telling his brain it was for the best even though his heart and gut knew what he was doing was wrong. Then even when he was around you physically, he had to keep himself away. Instead of throwing himself in your arms after being away from each other, he barely acknowledged you. He refused to let himself touch you, kiss you even though all he wanted was your comfort. The one time he fucked you was a moment of weakness, or so he told himself. And then the breakup. The most gut-wrenching day of his life. The words he'd thrown at you, the lies he told you, the guilt he made you feel. He was broken when he walked out of the door that day. Every cell in his body was telling him to come back into the house and apologize to you, beg for your forgiveness, hug you and never let you go, yet his mind was made up, and he couldn't look at you again without feeling the pain of all the guilt of everything - so he didn't turn back. For 6 months he used every girl that threw herself at him, in the hopes that he could forget about you and move on, though he found himself comparing every girl to you. None of their hair was soft and silky as yours, no one had smooth and lush skin, no one had curves in all the right places, no one kissed him and touched like you, no one fucked him as good as you did. But most importantly, no one was as beautiful, as kind, as intelligent as you were. He was miserable, jumping from one girl to another only to be praising your name as he came and have her call him a dickhead before walking out. He shouldn't have been surprised to see you back at the Paddock - it was also your job to be there. But when he locked eyes with your he felt all the air leave his lungs, and even though he wanted nothing more than to run up to you and take you in his arms, he decided that being pissed off was the easier option. As if it was. When he'd texted you last night, it was more of an excuse just to 'text you,' not to be an asshole, but of course, he was nothing less than as ass. And today, he was about the head out back to the hotel when Charles had asked how he felt having you back in the paddock, and eventually he'd let slip that you were still here, working late. Lando's feet had auto-piloted their way to you. Did he plan on hurting you again? No. Did he hurt you again? Yes. As soon as the words left his mouth of calling your relationship a mistake, he wanted the world to swallow him up. It was anything but a mistake. It was all-consuming love that held passion, kindness, trust, honesty, and earnestness. And he ended up throwing it all away for nothing. Not that anything would be worth it. He should never have even thought anything like that, let alone say it out loud to you. The last straw was not helping you through your panic attack. You all but begged him for help and all he did was stood there, feet stuck to the ground as he couldn't believe such vile words left his mouth causing you to go through all of this. Without thinking he ran up to where you were sitting and knelt down, his hands coming into contact with your skin after months of agony. Through all of this, even though his actions were the exact opposite - he never stopped loving you. Not once. He decided then and there that he needed to own up to his mistakes and ask for your forgiveness, even though he doesn't in a million lifetimes deserve it.

''Y/n,'' he said, voice breaking.

''No Lando, you don't have to say anything. I'll leave, never come to the paddock again, I'll find a new way in life for myself. One that doesn't revolve around you. I promise. You don't have to worry anymore. I-'' you stated while he cut you off.

''No no no y/n, listen to me'' he said then continued-

''You don't understand. It's not you that i hate. It's me. It's all fucking me'' he said through his tears that were now freely falling.

You honestly didn't know how to respond, so you stayed silent, hands still above his on your knees.

''I know I don't deserve you even listening to what I have to say but please, please just hear me out. Even if you hate me after everything, I need to tell you'' he begged.

You nodded.

''Y/n nothing was ever your fault. We had the most incredible relationship and I went and fucked it up. I know it sounds fucked up, but having a competitive car this year threw me off balance. I didn't know how to deal with the ups and downs, and instead of coming to you for help or telling you how I felt I shut you out, pushed you away, and disrespected you so much that i physically fucking hate myself for it. It's no excuse for how i treated you but i need you know that not for one second did i ever stop loving you. I don't think there will ever be a time where I'm not in love with you. Walking out the way I did in Monaco ended my world and even though i wanted to walk straight back in to you, i knew i didn't deserve to after everything i said. I am so, so incredibly sorry for everything I said and did. I know it's selfish for me to ask, but please, please forgive me, even though you owe me nothing. I hope we can find our back to each other because living in this world without you is the worst, most painful feeling I've felt these last 6 months. We were never a mistake, and we will never ever be a mistake. I love you so much y/n'' he said softy through his tears.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. It was all too much. Too many words spoken for you to process everything he said. You wanted to believe him, to jump back into his arms and tell him your forgive him, tell him you love him more than anything. But you had to protect your heart before any of that could happen.

''Lan'' you whispered, unable to say anything more as your tears were flowing uncontrollably.

''It's okay baby, I know, that was a lot. Catch your breath. Just breath'' he said, bringing his forehead to yours, Whether he was trying to calm you or himself down, he didn't know. But he held onto your hands and squeezed them tight.

As hurt as you were by him, he actually managed to calm you down and bring your breath back to a normal pace.

You pulled away from him after a few minutes, looking into his puffy and red eyes, breaking at how this was all affecting him more than you thought it was.

''Lan,'' you started again.

''I really appreciate you telling me all of this. But you hurt me, so much, more than I ever thought possible.''

He nodded his head, tears returning to his eyes.

You continued - ''And as much as i still love you, as much as i want to go back to where we were a year ago,'' you sniffled. ''I need time. I need time to think through it all. I can't risk my heart being broken by you again. I have to protect it'' you said, unable to wipe away at his tears.

He nodded again, held onto your hands that were still holding his face. ''I know. What I did was awful and I don't expect you to take me back right away. I completely understand. But please know I will always, always wait for you. No matter how long it takes. I only want to be with you, so whether you want me in a minute, a year, or 10 years, I'm only yours, if you'll have me, that is.''

You nodded and stayed staring at each other for what felt like hours but was probably only 5 minutes.

Lando cleared his throat and mumbled that he needed to get back to the debrief.

He gently got up and leaned down to press a soft kiss on your cheek, letting his lips linger there for longer than he should have.

''I'll see you around, yeah?'' he whispered.

''Yeah, see you'' you cooed, trying to break a smile at him as he returned it before walking out.

You let out a few heavy breaths, trying to allow your mind to catch up to what had just happened.

The next two days of the race weekend passed with a blur. You were so busy at work that the times you were in the paddock you hardly had time to breath, let alone let your mind wander to Lando.

You'd seen him i passing a few times, the both of you giving each other a shy smile, before either you or him were being pulled away for something or the other.

He'd texted you last night after quali, just checking in and asking if you'd wanted to fly back to Monaco with a few of the other guys and mutual friends. He said he hoped he wasn't over stepping too soon. But you'd appreciated the offer and told him you've love to.

Once you were back in Monaco Lando hugged you tight and kissed your cheek, before you drove off in different directions to your houses.

The few weeks that followed that weekend were both a breath of fresh air and a mix of longing and desperation.

You were glad and grateful that Lando had explained himself, but that still didn't justify why he hurt you so much, and so even though you wanted to go back to him, your heart was still wary and doubtful.

He'd texted you a few times in between, the conversations light and positive from both you and him.

You hadn't seen him until you bumped into each other at Jimmyz one night. You were out celebrating one of your girlfriends' bachelorette's party.

It was the first time in a long time that you were excited to dress up and go out, try and have a good time. You opted to wear a white lacey dress, that left little to the imagination. It wasn't you go to dress since it was quite daring - but you woke up today feeling good about a day full of opportunities(!!!!)

You'd been in the club for about an hour, actually having fun and dancing with your girlfriends, drinking enough to be a bit tipsy but not drunk.

At one point, you went to the bar to get another drink. While you were waiting for it your eyes wandered around the club - watching people dance and drink like crazy until you you found none other than Lando's eyes.

Your breath hitched and you couldn't help but internally swoon at him. He looks so good, in his black button up and backwards cap. his eyes instantly turned a shade darker the more you looked at each other. As the shock sore off, his face broke out into a smile that held a thousand suns in it and you returned it with your own.

He started making his way towards you, drink in hand until he was standing in front of you. Neither of you made a move or said anything, until Max Fewtrel broke you both out of your trance and pulled you in for the tightest hug, drunk, and mumbled how much he'd missed you.

He situated himself to sit on a stool at the bar, in between you and Lando, mumbling away and talking nonsense.

You could see from Lando's face that he was starting to get annoyed with his friend. He reached over and took your hand, electricity igniting between the two of you and he pulled you to a booth where you could finally be alone.

Your heart was fluttering in your chest at the contact, as he didn't let go when you were standing to each other again, with nothing in-between.

He smiled again. ''How are you?'' he asked.

''I'm, I-I'' you stuttered, not finding your words.

He gave you a worried look, smile dropping and eyes wearing a shade on concern, which quickly turned to lust when he saw you bite your lip.

Suddenly, Lando launched himself at you. He pushed you against the wall, cupped your face and crashed his lips to your with an urgency so unfound you had no time to think but reach you hands up to his face.

The kiss was messy and desperate, the both of your starved of each other for too long.

''Lando'' you cooed between breaths as he slightly pulled up and rested his forhead against yours.

''Fuck'' he mumbled. ''I'm sorry'' he said, started to pull back but you kept a firm hold on his face and shook your head at him, before bringing your lip back to his and sliding your tongue into his mouth.

He responded instantly, hands returning to wrap around your body to pull you as close as possible as his tongue fought with yours, winning eventually and sliding into your mouth now.

Your hands found his hair and pulled at it as Lando's mouth moved down to your neck and sucked and nipped at it, finding your sweet spot as if he'd never forgotten.

You moaned at his actions as you rubbed your thighs together, something he didn't miss. It took everything in him to pull away and look into your eyes.

'''Let's get out of here, yeah?'' he asked, voice laced with desperation.

You couldn't form words now. All you knew was you were so horny for him, and if you didn't find some privacy soon, you might just let him fuck you on the dance floor for everyone to watch.

''Y/n?'' he pulled you out of your thoughts.

''Uh huh'' you said, grabbing his hand and letting him lead you out the exit.

The uber back to his place - once yours too - was palpable with sexual tension.

You couldn't keep you hands off each other, and you were practically sitting in Lando's lap as he nuzzled his face into your neck and hair, whispering sweet nothings into your ear which had you blushing.

You cupped his face again and kiss him slow and deep, savoring the moment until he ruined it (not that you were complaining) by slipping your boobs out of your dress and lowering his mouth to them.

He sucked at your peaked nipples, pinching them between his fingers as you tried to suppress your moans bu pulling hard on his hair.

Finally, the uber driver cleared his throat, telling you you were home. As Lando payed him a generous tip, you slipped your boobs back into your dress and shimmied out of the car, Lando not far behind you before he scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder.

You giggled as he tried and failed to open the door a couple of times before finally getting the right key and walking into the house.

As soon as the door was shut he had you pressed against it.

His dark eyes stayed on yours before he ripped your dress off of you into two pieces.

''Lando!'' you squealed, pouting at him.

He smirked. ''Oh don't 'Lando' me as if you aren't turned on by it'' he said, knowing you all to well.

You stuck your tongue out at him.

As you stood there, hands behind your back, Lando shamelessly gawked at your body.

You didn't miss how his eyes turned shades darker when he saw you weren't wearing any panties.

You licked your lips and sighed. ''You're still wearing too many clothes'' you cooed.

He looked back up at you, though didn't say anything.

Instead he walked closer to you and sank down on his knees, prying your legs open all the while his eyes never left yours.

You held onto his hair and bit your lip, knowing what was coming as he gently reached up and let the back of his index finger slide through your dripping folds.

Your body hissed at the contact, having dreamt of this feeling too many times since you last felt it.

With ease, he slide his finger through your entrance before leaning forward and using his mouth to devour your pussy.

You gasped and moaned as you placed your one leg over his shoulder, giving him better access.

''Fuck Lan, yes, please'' you said through breaths as he also moaned at finally tasting you again.

He pulled back to add to more fingers as you closed your eyes, rolling them to the back of your head.

''Taste so fucking delicious baby, missed this so much'' he mumbled before diving straight back in.

You could feel your orgasm approached hard and fast, and before you could even warn him it was ripping through your body, shaking you above him as you moaned one of the most obscene noises you think you've ever made.

You gushed your fluids all over his face as he tried to swallow as much of it as he could as he rode you through your orgasm.

He finally pulled back and stood up again, lets his lips latch onto yours so you could taste yourself on him. Lando pulled and bit at your bottom lip as you started to unbutton his shirt and take his belt off.

When he was left in his his jeans, he hoisted you up again, smacking your ass as he stalked to the bedroom, dropping you on the bed.

You giggled as you sat on your knees and hooked your fingers through his belt loops as he leaned down and kissed you again. You popped his bottom open and slid his jeans down, ogling at the growing bulge in his boxers as he took the jeans off completely.

You palmed his thick girth, eager to have him in your mouth. Just as you were removing his boxers he stopped you.

''You don't have to'' he said sincerely. But god, you wanted to.

So you ignored him and continued your task, groaning when you finally set him free. His dick was standing hard and tall, angrier than you'd seen before, with the vein at the side throbbing with the blood rush. You took him in your hand and licked your lips at the sight of pre cum oozing out the slit at the top.

He placed his hands on you, taking a hold of you head as you leaned forward and harshly sucked on just his tip, letting your tongue run over the slit, swallowing all the pre cum.

''Fuck me'' you heard him mumble as you took more of him in your mouth and pumping what you couldn't fit in.

You deep throated him, feeling him hit the back of your throat as his hands on your head tightened, and began a quick pace of sliding him through your lips.

Lando let out a series of moans and praises of you.

''You're so fucking good at this, don't know how I survived without it for so long, fuck y/n'' he said through gritted teeth again.

You were gagging, tears threatening to spill out the corners of your eyes.

Hearing him say all those things had your core dripping, clenching around nothing. And so as you got distracted him rubbing your thighs together, Lando took full control.

He was fucking his dick in and out of your mouth, showing it no mercy until you felt him start to twitch uncontrollably.

''Fuck y/n, gonna cum, yeah?'' he said. You knew he was asking if he should cum in your mouth or pull out.

But you didn't slow your actions. Instead you fondled with his balls, pulling at the tightly until he could barely hold his body up, ropes of warm cum shooting down the back of your throat.

Fuck he tasted good you thought as you rode him through.

Words had long left his mind as all he did was let out his own obscene moans and groans, slipping your name in in-between.

You pulled back as you swallowed everything and sent him a sheepish smile. You were both spent and you hadn't even fucked yet.

Lando pushed you down and hovered above you, kissing you again as you wrapped your legs around his body, begging him for more.

''Lan please, i need you to fuck me, please''

Normally he would tease you for begging like that, but he wanted nothing more than the same.

So he pumped himself a few times, sliding through your folds and lining himself up at your entrance.

''Ready baby?'' he asked.

You nodded eagerly.

He pushed in, quickly, stretching you out. It burned, since the last time you had sex it was with Lando when he fucked you before the breakup.

You held you breath as he bottomed out, stopping his movements to allow to you get used to the intrusion.

''You ok?'' he asked after a few seconds.

''Yeah, I am. You can move'' you whispered.

And he did. He pulled out and slammed back into you roughly.

Your nails were digging into his back, probably drawing blood as all you could was moan at how he felt.

His own moans were more pornographic that ever, and he quickly set a pace that was so rough and hard, but felt so fucking good.

''Lan, yes, fuck, uh'' you said, groaning with each thrust as his mouth found your nipples to suck and bite at.

''So fucking tight my angel. Feels so good. Taking me so fucking good'' he moaned.

''Not gonna last long'' you managed to mumble.

''Don't hold it in. let it out baby'' he said, bringing his fingers down to toy with your clit.

In no time you felt the warmth build up in your stomach as you pulled Lando's head up for a dirty kiss, spit from the blowjob still messy around your mouth and chin.

''Fuck Lan, I'm gonna cum'' you said as your body shuddering with your orgasm fluttering through you, your inner walls clenching around his cock almost painfully.

He didn't slow his movements though. He whispered dirty words into your ear and you instantly felt yourself getting worked up again, waiting for another blissful orgasm.

Suddenly he stopped his movements. Your eyes flew open, ready to protest as he slid out of you and sat against the headboard.

''Need to feel you ride me, please'' he begged as he helped you to your knees as your straddled him.

You both sat there, panting as you took a hold of his cock and sank down on him, gripping his shoulders tightly as you set another hard and fast pace, bouncing up and down on him.

Lando's eyes flew to your boobs, his mouth agape as he watching them move with you.

''So fucking hot baby. Gonna fuck a baby into you one day and see how your boobs grow even bigger''

All you managed to do was moan at his words as you leaned down and captured his own nipple into your mouth, biting and sucking at it as he was now meeting you half way, fucking into you.

''Fuck Lan, you feel so good'' you said, feeling another orgasm approaching quickly.

''Hmm baby'' he mumbled.

You moaned loud as you orgasmed again, your fluids gushing out of you and making a mess.

''Feel's so fuckin tight'' Lando moaned as you started to feel his movements get sloppier.

He was in control again since your body was still shaking and tired from your orgasm as his cock started twitching inside of you.

In minutes he was cumming in you, praising your name to no end as sheets of warm cum filled you up. His own body shaking and shuddering against yours.

As you rode through your orgasms and slowed your pace you looked at Lando again, taking in his disheveled state, eyes still dark, mouth agape letting out little breaths, hair messy and stuck to his forehead, sweat dripping down his face and onto his body. He was as spent as you felt.

He puled you closer and gave you the sweetest smile.

''Thank you'' he said, pecking your nose.

''I love you Lan, I never stopped. And i want to be with you. Forever. you cooed.

''I love you too baby, always, and thank you for giving me another change. I won't hurt you again. I promise.'' he said, kissing your knuckles.

You leaned against him, both content just being in each others' arms again, as you felt him soften in front of you.

''Shower?'' he said, smirking.

You grinned. ''Always,'' before kissing him for the millionth time tonight.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two Three Four

Eddie loads the dryer but leaves it open for now; Steve’s asleep on the couch, his pup on the play mat on the floor next to him. Eddie checks the pup every few minutes; he’s pretty content right now, making a concerted effort to get his romper covered foot into his mouth.

He’s a pretty good pup, as far as Eddie can tell. Eddie’s apartment is a mirror of Steve’s, sharing the lounge wall, which means Eddie doesn’t really hear anything at night, their bedrooms are as far apart as they can be.

He’s heard him once in the day though, mid afternoon, crying. Just that once though, and Steve says he only wakes up once in the night for a feed and a change, and apparently that’s pretty good. Or at least, Steve seems happy with it, Eddie has no clue what's normal or not for new pups. Or any pups.

Steve’s still taking the opportunity to nap, though, and Eddie’s letting him. The pup is only ten days old, after all.

Eddie figures he can do their lunch dishes too, so he heads into the kitchen to tidy up. It doesn’t feel weird, letting himself help out around Steve’s place. Feels like home. Feels right.

Eddie likes it.

His Alpha definitely likes it.

Eddie’s done the dishes, dries them, puts them away, and decides it’s time for another loop of the apartment to check on Jamie. He’s fine. He’s waving his arms about and making happy pup gurgling noises.

There’s a knock at the door. Sharp. Very confident; also very fucking annoying. Eddie’s eyes flick to Steve and, yup, whoever it is has disturbed Steve and he’s stretching on the couch, starting to wake.

Eddie answers the door, finding the most petite female alpha he’s ever seen in his life. She frowns spectacularly at the sight, and scent, of Eddie, “can I help?”

“This is Steve’s apartment.” It is not at all delivered as a question, and Eddie guesses if she knows Steve well, she can scent damn well that this is his apartment.

“...can I help?” Eddie repeats, trying his damnedest not to let his hackles rise at the strange Alpha pushing on their boundaries. There’s a new pup in the apartment, and Eddie’s Alpha is the most alert it’s ever been right now.

“Eddie, who is it?” Steve calls from inside, and the Alpha steps closer.

Eddie has to resist the urge to just slam the door, but he can’t stop himself from swinging the door tighter to himself, blocking the doorway with his body, when the Alpha takes a step forward.

“Steve, it’s Nancy,” she calls.

“Oh.” Steve says, and Eddie can’t work out that tone at all, “okay Eddie, she can come in.”

Eddie still pauses for a second, having a mad glare off with this tiny Alpha, before he backs down and makes just enough space for her to pass.

She ignores him, going straight in and hovering near the couch, clearly pausing when she catches sight of the pup, “I heard you’d had a pup but…”

Steve sighs, bending down from where he’s sitting to scoop Jamie up into his lap, “his name is James.”

Eddie can feel how fucking awkward this is, the atmosphere between these two palpable. Eddie debates leaving, for a split second, this isn’t actually, anything to do with him.

He doesn’t though, he can’t, he shuts the door, and then hovers awkwardly behind the couch, and behind Steve.

Nancy eyes him again, and Eddie stares right back. Steve sighs. “If you two want to have a pissing contest you can do it some place else. You’re making it stink in here.”

As if on cue, Jamie starts crying.

“You’re right, he should go,” Nancy says.

“Excuse you?” Eddie can feel his eyebrows dragging his whole fucking face up into a scowl.

“Oh no,” Steve stands, “we’re not doing this, Eddie, do you mind taking him a sec?”

Eddie swells with pride that Steve would trust him with the pup, right this second. He probably actually puffs his chest up like an idiot, but he can’t make himself care. He takes Jamie into the nursery, bouncing him and holding him so he can scent at his neck, making nonsensical shushing noises. Unfortunately he can’t hear Steve and Nancy talking over Jamie’s half formed warbling in his ear, but it only feels like a couple of minutes before the pup settles and the front door clicks shut.

Steve comes in, looking tired suddenly. Tired and worn, “you okay?”

Steve shrugs, “she just came to remind me that I’m a stupid omega.”

Eddie has to bite back a growl, “she what?”

Steve laughs, but it’s empty and there’s no humor in it, “she didn’t actually say that. She said I would have been better to have a little more security before I had a pup. That having an Alpha I’m not mated too around the place is a bad idea. She asked if you were the father.”

For a second, Eddie’s heart feels like it tries to beat twice in one go, “what did you tell her?”

“That I don’t know who the father is. Technically true, but I put it like that to get a rise out of her. She always thought I was...flighty.”

“That’s a very polite way of putting that.”

Steve shrugs, coming close and scenting the top of his pups head, “I just wanted a mate. A family. Someone serious,” he shrugs, “I guess you’ve got to kiss a lot of frogs or whatever. Just never...found the one that turned out to be a prince.” And Steve scents sad. He scents so godamn sad, “but I’ve got Jamie now, and we don’t need anyone? Do we pup?”

Eddie excuses himself, and goes home.

The knocking at Eddie’s door could be described as fucking obnoxious, so Eddie knows it’s Robin before he yanks it open.

“Steve said he hadn’t seen you for a couple of days.”

“Uh hu.”

“He also said Nancy had been over, was she a bitch? Did she say something to you?”

“No-”

“So why are you avoiding Steve?”

“I am not avoiding Steve-”

“Great, so you won’t mind coming over then. Me and Chrissy brought take out.”

Eddie sighs down at his adventure Crocs, listening to the happy chatter from inside the apartment. He really needs to get it together. He forces himself to think about that fact that he’s just made an amazing new friend, and that he gets to be a part of Steve’s life, and that he should be happy with that.

He really, really needs to be happy with that.

He’s just, he thinks, gotten his shit under control enough to knock when Robin drags the door open, “oh, figured you’d gotten lost, was just about to mount a search and rescue."

Steve and the girls are piled onto the couch, so Eddie takes the armchair. Jamie’s in his Moses basket, off to one side where Steve can look over him. The coffee table is covered with take out.

“Eddie,” Steve smiles all happy at the sight of him, “we missed you, you been busy?”

“Uh, yeah, work, you know, got busy,” Eddie says lamely. He can feel Robin eyeballing him, so he ignores her in favor of duck rolls and chicken chow mien.

They go back to the conversation they were clearly having before Eddie arrived, “I’ll definitely go out with you,” Chrissy is saying, “I mean, I won’t be any good at it, I’ve literally never played basketball, but you can teach me.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine, you have cheerleader reflexes. I just need to practice with someone to get back in shape before I go out with the guys again, you know.”

“Yeah,” Chrissy agrees, “just getting out there will do you good.”

Steve hums, “I’m already getting really restless, you know?”

“I’d be climbing the walls, have you been out for a run yet?”

“Couple of times, but was more of a brisk walk, with the stroller, but I felt so much better afterwards.”

“Well, when you do get out for one, let me know, I can come with you for the first few while you find your feet?”

“Yeah, that would be great, I don’t know how far I’ll manage, but I’ve really got to get moving.”

“Eddie, help me with the coffee?” Robin distracts Eddie away from Steve and Chrissy’s, quite frankly, horrifying conversation. Sports? Running?

“You look like you’re going through the seven stages of grief, or whatever,” Robin laughs at him.

“What?”

“Don’t worry, I went though the same thing with Chris.”

“What...thing?”

She turns to him, rolling her eyes, “you just realized that you’ve fallen in love with a jock?”

“Oh. I-Oh no.”

“Oh, sure, I can watch Jamie,” Eddie finds himself agreeing easily.

Steve’s wearing...well. Eddie’s not sure. He can't look. They’re shorts, Eddie’s pretty sure. They’re...green, maybe? But the most important feature is that they’re so tiny as to be practically indecent. Hence Eddie maintaining fierce eye contact.

Behind Steve, Chrissy is...stretching? Eddie guesses that’s what that is? Steve’s already got a little color in his cheeks and he’s bouncing on the spot a little.

“I’m real out of shape so we won’t be gone long, okay? Like, half hour, max.”

“Sure,” Eddie grabs his keys and slides into his adventure Crocs.

“He’s literally just been fed and had a change, he should sleep the whole time. Obviously help yourself to anything,” Steve is saying as Eddie follows him down the hall, "I've got my phone, so just call if you need and we can come straight back."

Jamie is there in his basket, the TV playing something quietly, and Steve kneels and scents his pup real quick before he goes.

The curve of Steve's ass is peeking out of the bottom of the shorts, the milky skin inside his spread thighs- Eddie stares at the ceiling. Nope nope nope, “sure,” he tells Steve, and the ceiling, “we got this.”

Eddie waits for the door to click shut before he moves again, looking down at Jamie, who gurgles, "what the fu-I. Sorry. I shouldn't swear in front of you but, I mean. I'm pretty sure I'm in love with your dad, is the thing."

Jamie farts, and then starts to cry.

Eddie sighs.

[reidingandwriting]

Nice To Meet Ya! > w.w. & l.h.

Word Count: ~1,900

Pairings: Wade Wilson x Reader, Logan Howlett x Reader, it’s (the beginning of) a throuple over here

Warnings: Fem!reader (she pronouns used like. twice in the very end), to be expected amounts of cursing and vulgarity from Wade, lots of cursing in general tbh, maybe a little OOC Logan, still getting to learn how to write his character well (Deadpool and Wolverine gave me brain worms so I had to write this immediately after watching)

A/N: This may become a little bit of a series! I’m having so much fun writing them since I Finally watched Deadpool and Wolverine so there will be a lot of solo & duo content with these two. This part is a little Wade focused but the next part is more Logan focused 🫶🏻

Next Chapter

You never in a million years imagined this would be your life. You were raised by busy parents, and you quickly became self sufficient. Independent. When you hit your teenage years, your parents… god knows where they went, to be honest. All you knew is you had a house to yourself, you didn’t have friends anymore, and as lonely as it was, you found a bit of comfort in the solitude. You worked as a bartender at this bar not too far from your house, and you were a crowd favorite. You always brought in the biggest tips and many of the patrons were protective over you.

Your longest regular was the merc with a mouth- Deadpool. Wade, as he introduced himself once, a faint whisper. The fabric of his mask rubbing against your cheek as he whispered the name in your ear. Wade Wilson.

He was... Loud, to say the least. You didn’t think he had an off switch. He insisted he did- but you’d have to go under his suit to find it, he teased you. He never stopped talking and there was no such thing as small talk with him; if you were talking to him, he was downright vulgar, and the quite frankly gross sense of humor was entertaining. He also flirted like it was his job. Much like the rest of his vocabulary, his flirting was pure filth that would make even the most seasoned sailor blush. And god forbid any creep start talking to you.

“Hey, princess, sorry I’m late. Too busy blowing my load to the thought of you, then remembered, wait! I can come see your fine ass in person whenever I want. Wanna finish me off?” You could practically feel the smirk Wade was sending you. You gestured for him to lean in, waiting until he was leaned against the bar, chest hovering above the countertop as you leaned in.

“In your dreams, dick for brains.” Your lips brushed against where his were covered by his mask, and you smirked when you heard the sharp intake of breath. The gasp almost impossible to hear, but it made your heart flutter all the same.

“You, sweet thang? Always. Holy fucking shit, that was so hot.” You and Wade had quickly become friends, his personality meshing well with yours. After ‘baby knife’ had somehow found itself in the hand of some perv that had been borderline stalking you at work for weeks, you found a new part of his personality. His protectiveness. He was as chipper as ever, but with the manic energy of someone who could, and would, kill someone who mildly inconvenienced someone he cared for. Unhinged, barely holding onto his minimal self restraint to splatter the guy’s blood all over the wall. Wouldn’t want you to have a mess to clean up, he admitted once it was just the two of you.

He offered to walk you home once after he’d known you for a few weeks, and now it was habit. You loved the times you had with just him. He was the same old Wade, but more open about himself. More vulnerable. These walks were where you got to know Wade, and he got to know you. You had let him crash one night, not that long ago, when it was storming hard. He had already insisted on walking you home, storm be damned, and you repaid him with a home cooked meal, some trashy movie, and a night of conversation on your couch until you dozed off, your head lolling to the side and landing on his shoulder.

Hours later, you had woken up, now lying down and the comfortable weight of Wade’s hand in your hair from where your head rested on his thighs. By the time the sun rose, you were alone in your living room, the only trace Wade had been there being a sloppy drawing of the Deadpool mask and a heart he scribbled on the whiteboard of your fridge. You smiled at the doodle and left it up, it still being up there today.

You stood at your spot behind the bar a few weeks later when someone new walked into the building, and you tilted your head. Newcomers weren’t entirely unheard of, but they were pretty rare, especially on a weekday. You took in the man as he stood near the doorway; brown hair, and oh fuck, good beard. The leather jacket he wore did little to hide how muscular he was and you watched as he scanned the room. Body tense, as if looking for potential threats. Potential ways out if danger occurred. Not like anyone would mess with him, aura alone enough to scare off anyone within a ten foot radius, let alone the hard look in his eyes.

Still, he walked over to the bar and took a seat. You offered a gentle smile, watching for another second before speaking. “You seem like a whiskey fan.”

His hazel gaze shifted up to meet your eyes, and you felt as if he was staring right into your god damned soul. It was intimidating, it was hot, and you couldn’t decide whether you should look away or lean in and-

“Yeah. Whiskey’s nice.” He nodded his head towards a bottle behind you. You nodded and went to pour a glass as he spoke again. “You always try to guess orders?”

“Only the interesting ones. Or the pretty ones.” You winked before turning, smiling when you heard the slightest huff of amusement. “Haven’t seen you here before. New in town?”

“Somethin’ like that.” You turned back around, setting the glass in front of him, propping up on your elbows as he drank. “Thanks.” He looked familiar but god, you couldn’t place where you had seen him before. You made light conversation, most of the talking done by you, but you found that you didn’t mind. He listened, intently. Everything he did seemed to be intense, like it was his default. You were grateful for the slow night, getting to see a glimpse of the man behind the bulletproof walls he had clearly built around himself.

“You thirsty slut! Of course I’d find you here.” You heard Wade’s voice before you saw him, and an annoyed scowl took over the unknown man’s face.

“Thirsty slut? Thought that was your autobiography title,” you said and Wade gasped in mock offense.

“You know I don’t read! Mocking the illiterate, how dare you?” Wade hopped onto the counter, hip almost knocking the glass of whiskey over.

“I don’t get how you’re late to a place you wanted to go to.” The brunette man said, voice low and rough, and Wade waved a hand dismissively.

“So uptight, can you believe it? Need to pull the stick out of your ass, maybe put it in-“

“La la la la la, not listening,” you sang, covering your ears, and Wade turned to you.

“You traitor! I leave you alone for five minutes and Wolvie has his claws in you.” Wolvie… Holy fuck, you were trying to flirt with the Wolverine. “And, Peanut, you know I’d never be late on purpose. Except I really needed to piss, then I got distracted by this really cute dog outside and I ended up totally abandoning my favorite dog.” Wade reached out to pat him, and you watched as a sliver of claws extended from his hands. A warning that didn’t seem to deter Wade much, but he did put his hand down. “Well, might as well introduce you.” Wade told you his name was Logan, and Wade told Logan your name in return.

You and Wade continued to talk, Logan yet again preferring to listen rather than join the conversation. Wade told the story of how he met Logan, how together the two of them essentially saved the world, and how the two of them were now roommates. Begrudgingly, according to Logan, but Wade seemed thrilled about his ‘roomie’.

It was hours later when the three of you left the bar. Wade insisted on walking you home, taking your hand in his and skipping down the street with you. Logan was a few paces behind you, his presence a comforting sense behind you. Where Wade was loud, in your face, Logan seemed to be the quiet lurker type. He’d hide in the shadows, making himself known when he felt threatened. You walked up to your front door, unlocking the door and Wade helped himself inside. You rolled your eyes and turned to Logan, who lingered on your doorstep.

“If you want to come in, you’re more than welcome. At least one of you has manners,” you called towards where Wade stood in your kitchen and cackled. Logan nodded, muttering a ‘Thank you’ as he walked inside, his shoulder brushing against yours gently. You shut the door behind you and Wade opened your fridge.

“Aww, pookie, you kept my drawing!” There was a hint of an unfamiliar emotion in his voice… something, something new. You couldn’t place it, yet you smiled anyways.

“Of course I did, Wade.” Now that you were in the safety of your house, Wade’s mask had been discarded on your kitchen counter and you could see the smile on his face. “Get out of my fridge, you leech.“

“I’m starving,” Wade whined and you turned to look at Logan. He stood a little awkwardly, and you gestured to the couch, taking a seat and smiling when he followed suit. He sat on the cushion furthest from you, but you didn’t question it.

Logan couldn’t help but study you. There was an obvious familiarity between you and Wade, you matching his wit and comebacks, but you were different when you spoke to him. You were quieter, more reigned in. Strangely not out of fear, but as if you were trying to make him comfortable. You switched between Wade and Logan like it was second nature, and the more he talked to you and the more he watched you and Wade, he felt himself begin to relax just a little.

He didn’t realize how much time had passed until Wade, ever the charmer, let out a dramatic yawn, throwing his hands up in the air as he stretched. “Well, cupcake. I think it’s about time we head home. Old man is already up way past his bedtime.” Wade yelped as he jumped back, barely missing the claws that protruded from Logan’s hand, and he stuck his tongue out at him. “Grumpy grandpa.”

You stood and Logan followed suit. Wade kissed your cheek before saying goodbye and stepping outside, leaving you and Logan alone.

“I hope I’ll see you again, Logan.” Your voice was gentle, your smile even more so, and Logan nodded.

“I’ll be around. Don’t think I have much of a choice with that one.” There was a sliver of fondness mixed with the exasperation in his voice, and Logan started to walk outside. “Goodnight, bub.” Logan closed the door behind him, lingering until he heard your locks click shut. He caught up with Wade a moment later and Wade gave him the biggest shit eating grin ever.

“Is someone melting the big bad wolf’s heart?” The metallic clang followed by Wade’s pained grunt made Logan laugh, and Wade shoved his shoulder.

“Wait until she sees what an asshole you are. Then she’ll realize I’m the better half of this friendship.” The two men continued to bicker the entire way home, both of them thinking about when they’d get to see you next.