#so I didn’t know where to get a better grip and had to hug a branch that definitely couldn’t hold all my weight

[goodlucktai]

raised on little light (1/3)

rise of the tmnt word count: 2k pairing: leo & oc i've had this idea rattling around since the rise farewell comic earlier this year made it canon that the turtles had another brother and a sister floating around somewhere. we know who their sister is, so this is my take on that 5th brother. i hope you enjoy meeting him <3 big thank you to @soldrawss and @mykimouser for enabling my insane behavior (and thank you again to sol for drawing the art i included in this chapter!!!) title borrowed from northern attitude by noah kahan read on ao3

x

2020

Leo regretted his last words as soon as they left his mouth.

“Hero moves are totally your style”? As if Raph doesn’t have enough issues already.

But what he meant—what he would have tried to explain if there was time—was that Raph is his hero. He’s always been Leo’s hero. And if Leo could be anything like him, even for a second, even if it was the last thing he ever did, then he could be satisfied with that. 

It’s a silly thing to be stuck thinking about, laying on a torn up chunk of earth with a monster ominously lumbering somewhere below, looking for where it threw its toy. Laying there, feeling every bruise and broken bone, and hoping that he didn’t hurt his big brother’s feelings.

They’ll be okay, Leo thinks, trying to make it be the thing that gives him courage instead of just more homesickness. They’ll miss me, maybe for a long time, but they’ll be okay.

Leo’s supposed to be fighting for his life, but it’s all he can do to keep a grip on the photo in his hand, the only thing in this entire dimension worth holding onto. It’s all he can do to keep his eyes open when every blink is longer than the last. 

It feels like enough of a rebellion. The Krang looked annoyed that he was still breathing the last time it batted him through the void like a fly, which gives Leo the idea that he should probably be dead by now. He feels a detached sort of pride at how grown-up he’s being about all this. Better late than never

Leo waits for the Krang to come for him, dripping his blood and sneering his daddy’s nickname for him hatefully as it does, and hopes he made his family proud. 

Leo hopes he’ll go wherever Gram-gram is. It would be nice to know someone when he gets there. 

Movement in his periphery snags Leo’s attention. His brain starts throwing up warning flags, signaling danger—anything moving around in here is another parasite, or a Krang hound, nothing he’ll want to be sprawled out on a silver platter for—but he can’t summon any urgency. 

He turns his head and finds himself looking up at another turtle. 

It’s the very last thing he expected to see. They both just stare at each other for a moment. 

The newcomer appears to be a few years older than Leo, based on the broadness of their shoulders, and half a head taller. Their skin is more gray than green and their plastron is so pale it’s closer to white than yellow. Their carapace, what Leo can see of it, is a deep blue-black and they’re covered, skin and shell both, in white spots. Two of the spots on their face give the impression of eyebrows lowered in a glare, but they don’t seem angry at him.

The turtle is completely unfamiliar to Leo, which is saying something. He thought he and his family had the monopoly on… this whole situation. 

Disquieted, Leo remembers that he’s supposed to be the only turtle here. That was a very significant part of the decision he’d made. 

It must be a hallucination, he decides, instantly comforted by his own reasoning. That makes sense. He just wished that if his mind was going to conjure him some dying company it could at least be someone he knows. An imaginary Mikey or Donnie or Raphie for one last hug. One last affectionate forehead bonk. An “I still love you,” if that wasn’t asking too much. 

Don’t you cry now, he scolds himself sternly when his eyes start to blur and burn. It’s not about you. 

With a resounding crash of metal against stone, the Krang finds them at last. He’s snarling something that Leo is too slow to piece together before he cuts himself off—surprising the hell out of Leonardo by acknowledging the hallucination. That’s not how that works. 

“Another pest ,” the Krang hisses. His serrated teeth glint when he draws his gummy lips back in an ugly smile. His tone is oily and unpleasant when he adds, “You’re less colorful than those other ones. I would have remembered seeing you. Where were you when your accomplices were fumbling about in my Technodrome like the stupid creatures they are?”

“We won,” Leo reminds the alien, even though it makes him cough. His lips are warm and wet now but he won’t think about why. “Blew up your ugly ship. Who looks stupid now?” 

“Shut your mouth!” the Krang roars, going from slimy to homicidal in about three seconds. Leo cringes, every ounce of animal instinct in his body urging him to hide in his shell and ride the rest of this nightmare out. 

The spotted turtle snaps, “Don’t talk to him.” 

It would have made sense if he was looking at Leo when he said it. Don’t engage, don’t bait the big monster that could kill you with as much effort as it takes you to blink, et cetera ad nauseum. If only he’d had a nickel for every time he heard that. 

But instead the turtle is looking at the Krang, and he’s radiating the kind of cold-blooded murder that you mostly only see in movies. He has one arm flung out in front of Leo like he actually means to use it to stop the Krang from getting any closer. 

“Don’t even look at him,” he goes on, sounding seconds away from baring his teeth. 

This guy is significantly unaware of the danger he’s facing, and Leo ought to warn him about what enormous clusterfuck he’d just wandered into. Leo ought to say he appreciates the reptile solidarity, but you should definitely run, new guy. 

But this probably isn’t actually happening outside of his own head. And besides, Leo has to focus really hard on his numb fingers so he doesn’t drop his photo. 

“I’ll look where I please,” the Krang says, as unbothered by the hallucination as he was by Leo’s entire family. “Starting with that fool head of yours. I’m interested in whatever backdoor led you here. If it’s my way out, well —”

Adrenaline surges through Leo, and he’s hardly aware of moving before he’s lurching up and shouting out, “No!” 

He can’t get out, he can’t. Leonardo won’t be able to trick him again. He won’t be there to help this time. 

“I do have one thing for you,” the spotted turtle interrupts to say, reaching over his shoulder for what turns out to be a compound crossbow strapped to his back. 

Leo doesn’t know a lot about archery so it’s weird his fictional turtle does, crank-cocking the weapon like it’s an extension of his arm. He watches cluelessly as the turtle slides something very purple out of his jacket pocket and notches it into the groove where the bolts are supposed to go. It’s definitely not a bolt, but it’s a piercing-type projectile of some kind, and it fits in the crossbow like it was designed with crossbows in mind. 

The turtle aims the bow at the Krang, who clicks the claws of his metal suit on the ground the way Splinter would drum his fingers on the kitchen counter when he was waiting on the microwave. The Krang looks condescending and mildly curious, like he’s watching dumb little animals do something they’re not trained to do. 

“He told me to tell you he’s sorry he couldn’t be here to see this part,” the spotted turtle says, and then shoots without a second of hesitation or unnecessary dramatics. 

The Krang bats the projectile away, or tries to, but it explodes on contact with his armor, and suddenly all Leo can smell is burning metal. Then burning meat. 

The Krang begins to scream, clawing at something defiantly purple with a mind of its own that eats straight through him the effortless, immediate way corrosive acid chews through soft tissue. It moves like nanotech, covering as much of the Krang as possible in a manner of seconds and clearly designed to consume whatever it touches like a school of cartoon piranhas. 

Donnie would love it, color scheme and all. 

The Krang stumbles drunkenly, howling like a creature possessed, and Leo and his turtle companion both watch silently until he tips over the edge of the hunk of torn earth they’re on. Gravity is nonexistent in this dimension, so he doesn’t so much fall as sort of drift in another direction while he’s distracted with the purple stuff that’s doing its best to eat him alive. 

The last handful of minutes have been so bizarre that it’s actually going pretty far in convincing Leo that none of it happened for real. The Krang hasn’t actually found him yet. This is clearly a dream. Or a pre-death electrical storm as the neurons in his brain fire up to fizzle out.  

He tips his head to the side again to stare up at the archer, who is putting his bow away with perfect confidence that whatever that purple thing was, it will do the job. 

“Who are you?” Leo asks stupidly. 

“Gio,” the probably imaginary turtle replies.

Leo’s mouth runs off before he can stop it. “Just Gio? Like Cher?”

God, he thinks. That was stupid, Leo. Not the time or place, Leo. You’re in the prison dimension. You’re dying here and you can’t even cut the jokes now? Raph was so right about you.

But the imaginary turtle surprises him by smiling slightly, the corners of his mouth pulling just barely upwards in a way that somehow completely transforms him. Not the time or place for jokes or smiling at them but here they are. Like company.

“Giorgio Hamato,” ‘Gio’ says. That lands in Leo’s ears as something remarkably worth making a lot of noise over, but he can’t begin to unpack it. And after a second, he forgets what the remarkable part was. His mind is a deck of cards that got shuffled too enthusiastically and ended up scattered all over the floor. Gio doesn’t seem to mind when Leo just blinks at him, adding, “I’m here to take you home.”  

“Pretty sure Uber doesn’t come out this far,” Leo mumbles, the words a paint smear, all thick and wet and muddy. One of his teeth feels broken and it’s keeping him awake, a blistering ache that cracks through the back of his mouth like lightning. “And I’ve got, like, zero bars.”

This is how I cope, he thinks, watching the bigger turtle absorb the second bad joke in as many minutes. Leo’s blinking fast so he doesn’t cry. He’s trying to focus on anything but the pain radiating through his whole body, and the swallowing darkness all around him, and the ruins of ancient metal ships looming where they float unrestricted by gravity, and the ballistic howls of a pissed-off pink alien still dealing with whatever the heck this Gio guy did to him.

He can’t focus on any of that because all of that is scary and he’s already terrified. He needs to not be terrified because he doesn’t want to be that kind of ghost when he haunts his family. He wants to be the friendly, funny kind, the kind that gets to stay at the end of the movie, the kind that will make silly faces at Mikey so he doesn’t get scared, and leave sticky notes for Donnie to remember to charge his phone and drink enough water, and cover Raphie with an extra blanket while he’s asleep because it gets cold at night but he always leaves his bedroom door open for them.

If Leo’s friendly and funny, if he helps, he’ll get to stay. He didn’t get to stay the first time, so this time he has to make it stick.

Larger hands wrap around his. It doesn’t register for a second, and then it does in a big way.

Leo jerks his head up. Moving just that much hurts like his ribs are broken all the way down and the bones in his leg have all melted into liquid agony, but it clears some of the fog away.

Someone is holding his hands in the prison dimension.

An alien like the Krang wouldn’t know the first thing about the human gesture, the togetherness of it, so it’s not some mean trick that’s being played. And it can’t be an imaginary turtle that Leo dreamed up, after all, because kindness would be the last thing he’d give himself.

Possibly very real Gio says, “Fuck Uber. Whatever that is. And don’t repeat that word.”

The punchy breath Leo chokes in is going to punch out again as a laugh or a sob. Leo squeezes the bigger turtle’s hands, photo crinkling between them, suddenly tethered to something in this void and hysterically certain that he’ll die for real if Gio lets go.

“I’m sixteen.” Leo’s voice wobbles. He doesn’t know what to react to first. He doesn’t understand how this is happening. He holds on. “I can say the fuck word if I want to, I’m practically an adult.”

Gio’s face does something it hurts to look at. His eyes are dark and sincere, the shape of them entirely familiar. There’s a warmth inside him that permeates the gloom. A star belonging to a much larger galaxy, but more significantly, belonging to the same crooked constellation Leo belongs to.

I know you, he thinks, surprised by the truth of it. I do. Where have you been?

“We’re going home,” Gio says, the certainty in his voice like one of those huge stones a river parts around, unmoved by the currents and crashing water. “I know the way out. Don’t worry about it. Close your eyes.”   

The worst thing that could happen has already happened, Leo thinks. There’s no reason not to trust him. There’s nothing left to lose. He closes his eyes.

He feels himself drawn in, tucked against the built-in armor of a turtle chest, head resting on a broad shoulder. He’s been carried like this a million times before. He didn’t think it would happen again. Somewhere along the line, he’d been picked up for the last time and put down for the last time, and now he’s here, where no one who loves him can reach him, to scoop him up when he falls asleep on the sofa and take him to bed.

But Gio lifts him up like he’s still a kid. The Krang is bellowing hateful promises in between the grating shrieks of pain, promises of what he’ll do when he gets his hands on Leo, but all of that is far away. 

Leo isn’t afraid anymore. He isn’t going to be a ghost.

He’s pretty sure he’s going home.   

[inkbagel]

I like when nightwing has long hair but he should tie it up more often. I almost fell out of a tree once bc I didn’t tie my hair back and he fights crime for a living there’s no way he can see what he’s doing half the time. Plus braids are cute

[sinofwriting]

I ❤️ MILFS - Max Verstappen

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

Masterlist | Support Me! | I ❤️ MILFS verse

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

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

He wishes now that he had paid more attention.

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

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

—

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

Benny chuckles when the race comes to an end, Logan doing his cooldown lap and she finally lets go. “And just think you’ve got over twenty more races of this.” Her nose wrinkle and a hand goes over her heart that’s thudding. “Please, Benny.” He chuckles again but pats her shoulder. “You’ve got this.” “Not gonna tell me it gets easier?” He snorts. “No. This is far worse than F2 or F3 and we still were both scared watching him out there. We’ll never know a day of peace now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

A laugh leaves her at the way Benny pulls him into a bear hug, lifting him off his feet a little. “Proud of you, kid.” He murmurs. She can’t hear what Logan says, but he’s put down and it’s her turn.

She wants to bundle him up in her arms, hold him and not let go, but doesn’t want to embarrass him in front of his team, so she raises a hand and pushes his hair out of his face. “You did amazing, baby.” He smiles at her, all bright and shiny eyes and then he’s wrapping his arms around her, hugging her tight and she’s quick to return it, rubbing his back. “You did so good, Logan. So good. I’m so proud.” She tells him again, pressing a kiss to his sweaty head. “Thank you, momma.” He tells her, hugging her tight for another moment before letting her go. She smiles up at him and god, that makes her heart ache. Her son, her baby, taller than her somehow. She woke up some days and still wasn’t sure where the time had gone and how he was taller than her shoulders. “Go shower and debrief and then Benny and me will take care of you, yeah? And I’ll get your favorite ordered to the hotel, ready as soon as you get there.” He beams at her again, darting forward to press a quick to her cheek before starting to rush away. “Best mom ever!” He calls over his shoulder and she laughs.

—

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

—

She remembers clearly the first time Logan calls her mom.

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

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

Setting the essay down on her dresser, she runs her now free fingers through his blond hair. “C’mon Logan, time for bed.” He grumbles, fingers tightening on her shirt and she can feel it being pulled slightly. “You can put on your new race car jammies, cuddle with Ello.” He shakes his head, squirming a bit in her lap as he tries to shove himself closer. “Stay with you.” “Oh, baby.” She whispers, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Y’know I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.” His head shakes again and she has to bite her lip as his head hits her collarbone. “Want cuddles, momma.” Her heart thuds painfully in her chest at the name he called her, tears pricking her eyes. “Okay, baby. Let's get you in jammies, grab Ello, and you can stay with me tonight.”

—

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

“I want custody of Logan. I want to adopt him. And I need your help to make that happen.” He stares at her, no expression on his face, not even shock. “He’s,” She pauses, jaw twitching and tears springing to her eyes. “He wants to do karting, just like Dalton. And he’s good at it. I’ve taken him. They told him no. They haven’t bought him clothes in two years. They don’t know a single thing about his school, his grades, his teachers. He hasn’t called David dad since he was six and he hasn’t called Madelyn mom since he was four.” Her hands are formed into fists, nails digging into her palms as she speaks. “I have money, I can provide for him. I’ve got my shares of the company now and I’ve got my inheritance from Grandma Talls. But I know that a judge won’t sign off without some influence.” “Madelyn and Daniel?” She leans forward in her seat, a spark of hope filling her. “I already talked to them, they’ll do it.” One of his hands comes up to rub at his mouth, sighing. Then it drops to open up one of his desk drawers and he’s pulling out a bunch of papers, dropping them on the desk in front of her.

“I figured this was gonna happen and I knew after you talked to them and they called me. They signed away their rights three hours ago. Michael and Lily are waiting outside to come in so you can sign the papers.” Tears slipped from her eyes, joy wrapping itself around her entire being from his words, the fact that he called their family lawyer to be on standby, that he and her mother were so supportive. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” He smiles at her. “I couldn’t say no to you. Not when it comes to Logan. I’m way too young to have a grandkid, let alone one that’s eight, but I made my peace with that years ago.” “Thank you.”

—

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

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

Y/N Sargeant, Mother of Logan Sargeant.

Fuck.

—

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

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

Pulling away from her, Oscar grins when her hand comes up to pat his cheek for a second. “Thank you for the invite, Os.” “Of course.” He sends a fond look to Logan, who's standing awkwardly by the table. “Y’know Logan and you are always welcome.” She makes a humming noise. “C’mon, let me introduce you to everyone.”

Turning around, he smirks at the table. “Everyone, Logan.” Charles lets out a laugh, as the others chuckle. He gestures to her, “This is Momma Panther or Pan.” “Y/N or Pan.” She corrects, playfully shaking her finger at Oscar. “I only let the F2 boys call me Momma Pan.” He sighs. “Okay, this is Y/N. Logan’s mom.”

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

“She,” Carlos points at her. “Is his,” he points at Logan. “Mother?” Logan moves away from the table to stand by his mom, easily melting into her side at all the attention. The action makes Oscar smile, all too used to the easy affection between the mother and son. “I got pretty lucky right?” She shakes her head. “I’m just happy you weren’t a difficult child.” Logan both blushes and preens at the same time. Carlos shakes his head, disbelief still clear.

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

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

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

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

The current two time world champion smiles a bit awkwardly at her. “Have you been here before?” She shakes her head, turning her head a bit to look at him better. “No. To Australia of course, for Logan’s races and to visit Oscar once, but not here.” He nods and she can’t help but notice the way he swallows harshly. “We started coming here in 2021, it’s good food. Good drinks.” She laughs, “good gin and tonic?” He flushes a little, but laughs. “Yes. Very good. Heavy on the gin.” She nods, “I think I’ll have one of those then.”

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

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

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

Logan wrinkles his nose, glancing at the drinks part of the menu, before grinning. “They have it.” Oscar glances at what he’s pointing at, shaking his head. “You and your goddamn obsession.” “We come here like once a year.” Logan defends. “And no other country sells it.”

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

“So, Mrs. Sargeant,” Lando starts. “Just Y/N or even Pan.” She sends a fond look to Oscar who had made that nickname stick. “And I’m not married.” She says, amused. “Ah.” “Not married.” Fernando shakes his head. “Now that doesn’t sound right.” She looks at him amused. “Don’t believe in premarital sex?” She teases. The older driver laughs and so do the others. “No. Just hard to believe that you aren’t married. You are a very gorgeous woman.” “Thank you.”

“So,” Lando starts again, giving Max a weird look seeing how his friend is gripping his glass of water. “Will you be coming to all the races?” She nods. “Yes, I have since Logan started his career. Haven’t missed one.” Logan shakes his head, grinning at her. “Nope, not one.” “Your work allows you to do that?” Her lips press together for a second to try and hide her smile at the gentle but obvious fishing they are doing. “I have shares in some companies and a very generous inheritance. So, no true, real work.” “You do some work for Grandpa when we’re in the states.” “I organize his desk for him, which he then messes up as soon as he sits back down at it.”

“You do not mind the constant travel? It is quite tiring.” Charles asks, curious. “No. And once I got Logan in karting, I promised him that I’d make it to all of his races. Maybe in a few years, I’ll stop going to all of them, but I am part of his team as well.” “Manager?” “God, no.” She shakes her head at Carlos’ assumption. “Cook slash nutritionist. Benny, his trainer is amazing, also doubles at being a physiotherapist for Logan, but he doesn’t know how to cook to save his life. So I make their meals.” “Mine as well.” Alex pipes in. “They’re truly amazing, by the way.” “Of course.” “Can you make mine again?” Oscar asks, leaning over Logan a bit to look at her. “I’ve missed having them.” “Sure.” She laughs. “Get me your new sheets before the next race, yeah?” “Done.”

—

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

“Very heavy on the gin.” She whispers, turning a bit to look at him. He rubs his hands against his jeans. “Do you like it?” “It’s nice.” She smiles. Relief fills him. “Good.”

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

—

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

“Dinner was nice.” Oscar hums and he can feel the bed dip beside him. “You seemed a bit more relaxed.” “No media, and you and Pan were there. A bit more relaxed.” Logan scoffs. “Yeah, because you were so tense with media before.” As he speaks, he reaches out to lay a hand on Oscar’s thigh, giving the muscle a squeeze. “It’s nuts, isn’t it? I mean we all got told that the media was so much more, so different, but…” He trails off, shaking his head. “Yeah.” Oscar sighs and then he’s laying beside Logan, the American luckily moving his hand off and away from the other’s thigh before he lies on it.

“Y’know I have no personality, apparently.” Logan snorts, eyes opening when he hadn’t even realized he had closed him. The Australian driver also has his head turned so they’re looking at each other. “What? Have they never seen a Prema video?” He shrugs as best as he can. “I’d take that over my apparent frat boyness.” “You? A frat boy?” Oscar laughs. Logan sighs as he thinks a bit more about it, the mood turning a bit serious. “I just hope momma hasn’t seen it.” “What happened?” “She’s just worried. Thinks I haven’t noticed, but she’s wondering if she did a good job with me, done enough for me. And she’s given me everything y’know. I can’t imagine what I’d be like with them as my parents.” Oscar moves a bit closer, just a few inches between their faces now. “You’d still be amazing, still great. Maybe a frat boy.” The American rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.

“I think Fernando has a thing for her. For Pan.” He clarifies. “What?” “I mean, just during the dinner y’know, he kept looking at her. And him calling her gorgeous.” “Well, he’d be dumb and blind to not notice that.” Logan scoffs, rolling onto his back and turning his head to the side, keeping his eyes on Oscar. “I’m being serious.” The younger laughs, poking him lightly. “I think Alonso has a thing for her.” Logan’s face scrunches up in disgust. “Dude, no. That’s gross. Momma isn’t even thirty and Fernando’s like forty-three. And isn’t he dating that journalist?” Oscar’s brows press together. “What journalist?” “The one that gave Fred shit.” “I thought she died?” The two look at each other, both baffled.

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

“Different journo.” Logan mutters. He then blinks, “wait, she died?” “Mate, you didn’t hear about that?” “No!” “She was supposed to be at Spa, remember. And we all were relieved when she wasn’t there. She died, car crash or something, I can’t remember.” “How do I not remember this?” Oscar shrugs as best as he can while laying down. “I don’t know.”

It’s silent for a moment, “you don’t think,” “No.” Oscar shakes his head, but he doesn’t sound too sure. “I mean, yeah no.” “Right.” He looks up at the ceiling.

“Okay, so Fernando is out of the running.” Logan groans, “Os, no.” “Look he clearly has eyes, but if he’s dating someone he’s out. He wasn’t the only one looking.” “Oscar, please, it’s my mom.” “She’s like my mom too, which is why we have to talk about this.” Oscar insists, wriggling closer to Logan. Their sides completely pressed together and when Logan turns his head to look at the other, their noses nearly brush. He looks at Oscar’s face, all earnest and caring and sighs. “Fine. Charles was looking, but he only dates one type, so safe from him.” “Lando was looking.” Logan snorts, “I thought this was for potential dates, not another kid.” He laughs, their noses brushing together from the movement. “Okay, no Lando. Max.” “He kind of looked weird when you introduced her.” He frowns. “I saw that too.” “But he also got all blushy when they talked.”

“The drivers do know, I mean Alex knows that she didn’t like birth you, right?” Logan’s frown deepens. “Of course. I mean, it’s not super well known, but it’s a little hard to believe that she naturally had a kid twenty years ago.” “Thought so.” Oscar then chuckles. “Imagine, them thinking that she did, though. Just thinking she’s got some sort of insane skin care routine.”

—

“How in the hell does she look like that with a twenty-year-old kid?” “I know right?” Alex says, looking at Carlos. “It’s insane.” Charles pokes at his own cheek. “I think I need to ask her for advice, what products she uses. I want to age like her.” “We all want to age like her.” George agrees. “What are you saying?” Fernando frowns. A few of them share a look, but Charles and Max share a different one. “Mate, you’ve got wrinkles and all these lines.” Max says. “I mean those are natural, but look at her. The skincare helps.” Fernando frowns, “Lines?” Charles touches at his own lines, “see lines. From smiling, laughing, frowning. All good things, very nice. Just not uh,” his brows furrow drawing a blank. Lando snorts at his struggle. “You just want to help your skin. Keep it healthy.” The older driver makes a humming noise, considering.

—

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

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

She doesn’t even notice that he’s lessened that gap to Pierre until suddenly he’s overtaken the other French driver, just three laps later. “Oh my god.” “Fuck.” “Benny,” she whispers, and one of her hands is dropping so she can clutch at the older man. “Benny, I think,” “He’s gonna do it.”

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

“Yes!” The whole garage is cheering and she’s wrapping her arms around Benny, laughing when the trainer lifts her. “He did it! He did it!” She cheers. The garage quiets though as Gaetan starts to speak on the radio.

“Logan, you are on your cooldown lap.” “Got it. Where’s Alex?” She winces at the question, one of her hands grips at Benny’s shoulder as he sets her back down, the other holding onto her headphones that miraculously didn’t get thrown off her head or disconnected when celebrating. “Alex is P14, P14.” It’s quiet for a moment. “Okay, I’m sorry we didn’t get any points today, next race is ours right? The car felt great.” Both of her hands fly up to her mouth. “Logan.” Gaetan’s voice is full of disbelief and laughter. “Mate, you finished P8. You got us points. You got your first points.” She can see him react to the news, the car jerking underneath him for a second, before he wrangles it back under control. “What? What do you mean?” “You finished in P8. Clean race, finished ahead of both Alpines and Magnussen.” “Holy fuck.” The garage fills with laughter at his reaction and tears start to build in her eyes. “You guys,” his voice breaks. “Thank you guys so much. This was you guys, the car felt great, really.” She watches as James hops on the radio. “This was you as well, Logan. Amazing drive today.” “Thank you, James. Thank you so much for this.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m so proud of you.” She tells him, squeezing his sweaty body close before running a hand through his hair. “You did amazing.” “I did it, momma.” His voice is weak and she can feel tears hit the skin of her neck where his head is buried. “You did it.”

—

“Logan did amazing, it was a good drive.” She blinks in surprise at the voice, turning in her barstool to look. “Max?” He smiles at her, cheeks flushed. “He did really well.” “He did.” She agrees before patting the stool next to her. His smile widens as he takes the seat. “I didn’t realize that Red Bull was in the same hotel.” Maybe she should have since she had spotted a few Red Bull polos, but she figured it was fan gear. “I think Aston is here as well. You aren’t celebrating with Logan?” She shakes her head. “We already celebrated. Him, Oscar, and a bunch of his friends here are throwing a party. I wasn’t really interested in watching them all get wasted, so this,” she gestures to the hotel bar, “is me having a drink to celebrate before going up to my room and ordering some room service.” “Could I join you?” His cheeks redden at the words, at the way her eyebrows raise. “Not like that. But for food? I’ve never actually eaten anywhere in Miami that wasn’t catering.” She stares at him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. And I have the perfect place to take you.”

—

“Did I actually score points yesterday?” “You did.” “Sweet.” “Very. How’s the head?” Logan shrugs, “I mean, I drank a lot, but like I’m just dehydrated.” She shakes her head, “That will change in a few years.” “Not gonna tell me to not drink underage?” He teases, bending down to press a kiss to her cheek before grabbing her glass of juice and draining it. She snorts. “We’re in Europe most of the time and I gave you your first drink. I don’t think I have a leg to stand on. And you were celebrating.” “True.”

He sits across from her, refilling the glass and taking another drink from it before setting it down and starting to help himself to her pancakes, which she just pushes closer to him. “How was your night? You could have joined us. We wouldn’t of minded.” “I’m your mom, Logan.” She laughs. “I think the me going to your friend's parties ship sailed a few years ago.” “Yeah, but you're awesome. We like having you around.” “I know.” She smiles. “I wasn’t in the mood to watch all of you get wasted.” “Fair.” he says around a bite of pancake, which she sends him a look for and he quickly swallows the food. Giving her a smile that says sorry.

“So, how was your night?” “It was good.” She tells him, spearing a piece of fruit with her other fork. “I came back to the hotel, had a drink, and then got dinner with Max.” His brows press together. “Max?” “Verstappen.” She clarifies. “Red Bull is staying here as well, he saw me at the hotel bar and asked if he could join me for some food.”

“You went on a date?” Her eyes narrow at him. “It wasn't a date.” “You went on a date.” He scrambles for his phone. “Oscar is never gonna believe it.” “I go on dates.” “Momma, you’ve gone on like five dates. And two of those were before you turned eighteen.” She scowls at him. “It wasn’t a date. We just got dinner.” She insists. “Uh huh.” He says, clearly not believing her. “Did he pay?” “Yes.” “Pull your chair out, help you with your coat, anything like that?” Her mind flashes back to Max helping her get out of his car, his insistence on opening doors for her. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean,” Logan continues. “Did he walk you to your hotel room? Say that he had a good time and he’d like to do it again?” “Oh.” Logan grins at her, smug, as he finishes typing out a text to Oscar. “You went on a date last night.” “I went on a date last night.” And she doesn’t mention the fact that a new number resides in her phone.

—

“Logan!” He stops at the sound of his name, turning to look behind him, where Max Verstappen is nearly jogging to catch up with him. “Max.” He greets, when the older driver is next to him, nerves filling him at the eyes of said driver on him, along with how a few other drivers are also looking at the pair, shock and surprise clear on their faces. “Hey.” Max grins. “How are you feeling about the track?” He looks at the older driver in confusion. They had just left the drivers briefing, why was he asking him this? Alex had already spoken about how the team was feeling about Monaco. “The car won’t be the best here, but we said that in Miami, so we’re hoping to repeat that here. Alex has a good chance at ending in a point scoring position.” He reiterates what he's been told and what he’s been telling the press. “But how are you feeling about it?” Logan stares at the Dutchman, eyes flickering around trying to see if cameras are there, if his momma is there, but there isn’t anyone. The other drivers are already gone, so are the FIA people. It’s just him and Max. “Y’know you don’t have to talk to me because you went out with my mom.” He expects relief, like that one dick Jase, and really who puts that on a birth certificate, but Max just frowns. “I know, I don’t have to.” Logan swallows around the lump in his throat, “right.” Turning around, he starts to walk, somehow knowing that the other driver will join him. “It’s a tricky track, it’s Monaco. I was here last year and I barely got in the points.” “P10 and P9.” He throws the driver a look, because that was too much to know, but Max is just looking at him, encouraging him to continue. “The car isn’t suited for it. I mean it wasn’t for Miami, but this is different. And I’m still not managing my tyres correctly, so even if I did manage to gain positions, I’d get called in to pit and lose them.” Max huffs out a laugh. “You are a rookie in a Williams, it’s impressive that you’ve already gotten points. If you could manage your tyres, when sometimes even I struggle, well I’d put you in Checo’s seat.” “Not yours?” He laughs again, “No. I’m a bit better at it than Checo.” Logan couldn’t really deny that.

“Do you want some advice? On the tyres?” Logan quickly nods. “I’ll take anything I can get.” “Don’t fight the car too much on the turns. If you need to get it to turn properly or without going on the brakes too soon, fight it. But when you don’t, let the car be stable, keep it fluid. When you come out of the corner, press harder. It might feel like you’ll go into the wall, but you won’t.” “And if I go into the wall?” Max laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. “I think you're a better driver than that mate.”

—

“How are you doing that in the turns?” Logan looks up from his notebook, where he’d been scribbling a bunch of random words. Looking at the screen, he watches his own onboard. He thinks about saying that it was Max that told, but no one at Williams liked hearing about Red Bull, especially with Alex in the room. “Just something I thought I’d try.” “Well, it was good, continue doing it. We may have ended up out of the points, but we got close.” Logan nods. Even with his five-second penalty, he had still kept fourteenth, and Alex ended up in twelfth. “Will do.”

—

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

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

“I like you, Max.” He flushes, “I like you too.” He really did, even though his mother was going to have a heart attack when she found out how much older Pan was than him. “And I want to continue doing this.” She gestures between them with her free hand that isn’t being held in his. “So,” sensing that there’s something she wants to say. “I’m a mom.” He blinks at her words, panic starting to fill him. He thought he’d made that clear that he knew that, understood that. He always made sure to ask about Logan. He even had Logan’s number now after talking to him about how he felt about the Monaco track. “I know.” “Logan is important to me.” Oh, god, did Logan not like him? “The most important thing to me. And if we're going to continue to do this, I just need you to know that. He’s always going to be my first priority.” “Of course.” Relief fills him, his heart slows from its frantic beating. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” She stares at him, trying to gauge how truthful he’s being before nodding. “Okay.”

“Did you think that I didn’t know that?” She shakes her head immediately. “No, it’s just. I don’t really do this.” She laughs. “Dating, relationships. Logan pointed that out to me, so I don’t really know how this goes and I just had to make it clear, put it on the table now.” “I don’t really do this either.” He hesitates to ask his next question, but does. “Logan’s father. What was your relationship with him like?” Her face screws up in disgust. “Ew.” He laughs, not expecting that reply or that word to sum up a relationship. But fair enough.

“I mean the idea of a relationship between me and Logan’s father is gross. Logan’s,” she pauses, seeming to settle on a different word. “Birth parents are my aunt and uncle.” “His what?” He could have sworn she said birth parents, but that couldn’t be right. “His birth parents.” She looks at him, concerned. “I adopted Logan when I turned eighteen. Did you think I gave birth to him?” “No.” He says, shaking head and clearing his throat. “Of course not.” She stares at him, lips pressed together. He sighs, slumping in his seat, eyes closing. “I may or may not have thought you were just a really, really young looking forty-something year old woman.” She immediately bursts into laughter and his eyes fly open at the sound. “You thought?” “The graphic for the race footage says you are his mother, I did not think otherwise. I just thought you looked great for your age.” He defends, a little embarrassed, but delighted by the expression on her face and her laughter that is still filling his ears. “I am his mother, just adopted.” “Not that either of you see it that way.” “No.” She shakes her head, laughing one last time before calming down.

“No. Logan’s mine, he’s been mine practically since he was born. It just wasn’t seen that way legally until I was eighteen and custody got signed over to me.” “Of course.” He then flashes her smile, “So can I ask how old you are?” She laughs, nodding. “Yes, Max. I think just this once it’s better to ask a lady her age than assume it.” “How old are you?” “I’m twenty-nine.” He looks at her with new eyes, the age making much more sense. “I would’ve said twenty-five.” “Really? I think you would’ve said forty-something.” “How was I to know?” He throws his free hand in the air at the tease, his other still holding hers.

—

“Hi, baby.” She greets when Logan stumbles out of his room, practically still asleep, as he drops onto the couch. “Momma.” He whines, resting his head on her lap and turning his face to press it into her stomach, trying to block out the sun. Her fingers brush through his hair as she forces her body to stay relaxed. It was always a fight when he did this.

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

He mumbles something and she turns his face away from her stomach. “What?” “How was your date last night?” Her smile widens. “It was good.” “Yeah?” She nods. “Did you see Jimmy and Sassy?” “No.” She runs her hand over his forehead, knowing that he’s thinking of Sooty. “We should talk though after you’ve had some breakfast.” “About what?” “Breakfast first.”

“What do we need to talk about?” Logan asks nearly thirty minutes later, his fruit bowl all gone and his coffee on its way to be there as well. She swallows, hands flexing. “Max.” “What about Max?” She sighs. “Well, baby, him and I talked about becoming serious last night. But that’s not gonna happen until I know how you feel.” “You know, I’m okay with it.” “I know you're okay with me dating, but this is a bit more complicated. Max is on the grid with you and we’re talking about a relationship.” Logan eyes widen a bit at the word relationship. “I mean, how does Max feel about it? About being with someone who has a kid on the grid?”

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

“Max is good with it. He knows that you're my number one and that’s never going to change.” Logan flushes at the words. “He also likes you, thinks you're a good kid.” She lets out an amused huff as the word kid leaves her mouth. It was odd to hear Max describe Logan that way, with only five years between them. But at the same time she knew it came from being practically a veteran in the sport. Max was coming up on ten years in Formula 1 despite his young age. He flushes even more. “Really?” “Yeah.” She smiles. “He always asks about you, it’s really sweet. And he knows to that if you aren’t comfortable with this or need more time then that’s what will happen.” “I am an adult.” “You are.” She was sadly well aware of that fact. “But you are my baby, my kid. I couldn’t be in a relationship with someone if you didn’t like them or if it made you uncomfortable.” He nods. “I’m okay with it. Max makes you happy, he’s nice.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.”

—

She lets out a giggle as arms wrap around her from behind, lips pressing against her cheek. “Hi.” “Hi.” Another kiss is pressed to her cheek. “Can I help?” She glances down at what she’s finishing up. “No. You could set the table, though?” “Done.” A kiss is pressed to her temple and then the blanket of heat that covered her back is gone. “What cabinet?” “First one entering the kitchen on the left.” She says, turning her head a bit to watch as Max pulls the dishes out.

Her mouth goes a little dry as she watches him. His t-shirt is tight around his biceps and chest. His skin is a little tanned after their date a few days ago on a friend's yacht. She forces her eyes to not look at his hands, instead trailing them up to his strong shoulders and neck and then to his face. Max, she thinks as he starts to put the plates on the table, is unfairly attractive. Before he can catch her staring, she checks on the final thing on the stove. “Perfectly done.” She mumbles with a smile.

The sound of the front door opening makes her smile grow wider as she grabs a pot holder. “Am I late?” “Just on time.” She tells Logan as he steps into the kitchen. “Can I,” She stops him before he can continue. “No, go wash up.” “Alright.” He bends a little to press a kiss to her cheek before turning on his heel, offering a wave to Max. “Hi.” “Hi, Logan.”

Picking up the pan, she shakes her head as Max goes to try and take it from her. “Logan and you are both going to get on too well.” “Why’s that?” He asks, a twinkle in his eye. “You both don’t like when I lift anything.” “What’s the point of having a son or a boyfriend, then?” Logan says, clapping Max on the shoulder as he comes back. Max grins at the younger, delighted as he claps him back. “Exactly. We feel a bit neglected.” She rolls her eyes, shaking her head, though a smile is stretching across her lips.

—

Max watches amused as the mother and son argue.

“Mom, it would be for two races, two, that’s it.” “One race, really.” Max chimes in, smiling when she glares at him. “Spa is nice, but Zandvoort is really what I consider my home race.” “See, it would be one race. Max wants you in his garage.” Logan says, looking at the other driver, begging for him to help but at the last sentence Max shakes his head. “I never said that. Well, I would like to see Pan in my garage, not for the whole weekend, or even a day. She’s part of your team.” Logan looks at him, bewildered. “But, it’s your home race.” He shrugs. “I’d like for her to stop by, you as well. I already have it cleared with the team. Staying for even a whole session though just doesn’t make any sense. I don’t need her on my side of the garage to know that she’s supporting me, wanting me to do well, not when you are on the grid.” “Are you sure?” Max smiles at Logan, because yes he was sure. Did he want her there, supporting him? Maybe even dressed in something with his number? Of course. But, he liked seeing her in Logan’s garage. Supporting him, wearing his merch, being a mom. “I’m more than sure.”

“Besides,” she says, drawing both of their attention. “Max and I haven’t gone public yet. Or really told anyone yet.”

—

“Well, this is a bit of an odd one.” Laura says as they stop in front of the Red Bull garage. The cameraman focuses on what she’s looking at. “Both Logan Sargeant and his mother, better known as Pan from Formula 2 fans, are in the Red Bull garage, currently talking with our current championship leader Max Verstappen, his engineer GP, and Daniel Ricciardo.” “Shall I see if I can steal one of them away?” Will asks, smiling at the camera as he holds the F1 TV microphone loosely. “Please.” She gestures.

Will steps towards the garage smiling at the small group hovering just inside. “Could I steal one of you for a quick minute?” The five exchange a look and Will stops himself from rolling his eyes at the way they all look annoyed at the idea, but Logan nods. “Sure.” “Thank you.”

He watches as Logan says something quietly to them, getting nods from them all. His brow furrows when Max squeezes his shoulder before the younger driver gives his mom a quick hug, making him shake his head. Logan Sargeant was an absolute mommy’s boy and it was embarrassing as all hell to see. He couldn’t imagine being twenty and hugging his mom in public, let alone all those videos and photos of him reaching for her hand.

Will ignored the part of him that did think it was sweet and felt bad for the kid. He couldn’t look all sappy while filming, especially not when in front of the Red Bull garage.

“Hi everyone.” Logan greets, taking the third mic from the newest crew member. “Hello, Logan. How are you feeling about this weekend?” He smiles at Laura. “I’m feeling okay, I’ve raced here before, obviously not in an F1 car, but I do have some experience with this track.” “And you and your mum’s visit to the Red Bull garage, should we expect an announcement of you switching teams?” She teases. “No.” He laughs. “No, uh, just visiting for personal reasons. Saying hello to Daniel, wishing Max a good home race.” “I mean, I’m not sure, he needs it.” Will jokes, gaining a few laughs. “So, no business to be done at Red Bull? Just saying a hello and wishing a good race to a fellow driver.” “Yeah,” he pauses, looking back at the garage where it’s just Max and his mom standing now watching him with smiles on their faces. It’s only that he continues when his mom gives a brief nod, one barely able to be seen by the camera. “And I wasn’t just wishing a fellow driver good luck.” “Oh?” Logan grins, looking pleased with himself. “I was wishing my new dad good luck.”

—

“Carlos Sainz is a cunt.” Max freezes at her words, hand still on the doorknob from just stepping into the room. “Hi, schat.” “Carlos Sainz is a cunt.” She repeats. His brain is scrambling because what exactly had Carlos done but also why was it so attractive to her say the word cunt. It had to be the accent, he decided quickly, still trying to figure out the Carlos thing. “And why is Carlos a cunt?” He finally asks, releasing the door knob and stepping further into the room.

She’s on her laptop, rapidly typing something, and he can feel anger radiating off her.

“That bullshit he spewed, blaming Oscar’s inexperience.” She scoffs, pausing her typing as she shakes her head. “It was an incident, a racing incident, something he knows a lot about. There was no inexperience fault.” “Oscar’s okay?” He already knows that he is, but knows it's good to ask. “He’s good. He knows that it's a racing incident.” Max winces. Wonders for a second if he should warn Carlos to keep his mouth shut, but shrugs. It wasn’t his fault that Carlos was getting in trouble because he couldn’t watch his mouth or correctly look at footage. “Can I help?” She sighs, hitting close on whatever she was writing in. “No.” She then closes her laptop, turning to face him, with a smile. “Hi. Congrats on the win.” “Thank you.” He bends to kiss her. “You okay?” “Yeah, just,” she waves her hand at her laptop, “stuff.” “Anything I can help with?” She starts to shake her head no as he sits on the edge of the bed, but she stops. “Actually, could I get your insight on something? Not just as a driver, but as someone who lives and breathes racing, loves data, really knows how the sport works.” “Of course. What’s going on?”

Another sigh leaves her, hand coming up to rub at her mouth for a second before it drops. “Why would a team not resign a driver?” His eyebrows furrow, because she knows the reasons, but he answers. “Not performing well, they want out of the team or sport, sponsorship issues.” “The driver wants to stay in the sport and the team.” Her lips turn downwards a bit at the word team. “And the driver brought new sponsorships to the team.” “They have to be not performing well.” “They’re a rookie in a back marker team.” “They have to be really performing badly.” Max says, trying to think of who in Formula 2 or 3 she’s talking about. “They already have six points and have placed ahead of their experienced teammate three times.” His mind is scrambling again, trying to find a reason, because what? “How many does his teammate have?” “Nine.” “I have no idea. Not unless there’s conflict within the team.” She shakes her head. “Is there potentially a more experienced driver for the spot?” She shakes her head. “They’re looking at another rookie or maybe someone who stepped away from the series for a year, though they’d rather take a rookie than him.” “I don’t have an answer for you. It doesn’t make sense to me.” She nods, expression falling and she’s rubbing at her face.

“What’s going on?” He asks, standing up just to crouch down in front of her, taking her hands in his. “The driver’s Logan.” “What?” “Williams isn’t sure they want to offer Logan another year.” Max stares at her. “How?” “I don’t know.” She shrugs, laughing. “There’s talks of them signing whoever wins this F2 championship or even the runner-up depending on who it is. Logan’s making too many mistakes.” “He’s costing them too much money.” Max fills in the blank, shaking his head. “That’s ridiculous. Don’t take a rookie if you can’t afford it. You are supposed to account for the worse. And he’s doing well. It’s not his fault that they built a shit car.” “I don’t know what to do.” She admits, voice just a whisper, and his heart clenches painfully at the sound of it, at the tears in her eyes. “This is his dream. I don't know what to do if that gets taken away from him.” “It won’t. We’ll figure something out.” He tells her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

—

“I think I’m spoiled.” Max says, watching as she gets ready for bed. A faint feeling of arousal pooling his gut as she pulls on one of his shirts. He absentmindedly wonders if it would be weird to wear it tomorrow to the track, the scent of her lotion clinging to it. “Why’s that, honey?” He smiles, cheeks a bit pink, and that arousal builds a bit more at the pet name, at the way she shifts in the vanity chair to loosen some tension in her back. “You come to every race, you see me win, you celebrate them, you got to see me win my third championship today.” Those words feel weird off his tongue, today, but totally sober to celebrate. He wants desperately for tomorrow to come, for the race to finish so they can celebrate, him, her, Logan, the team. “I guess you are a bit spoiled.” He gasps, clutching at his heart, making her giggle. “That’s okay though.” She says, getting up and moving onto the bed, straddling him. “I think I like you spoiled.” He groans as she dips her head, pressing a kiss to the flutter of his pulse. “Schat.” It's a warning to stop and a plea for more. “I know.” She kisses the spot a bit firmer. “Celebrations will have to wait just a day longer.” She then rolls off him, his arm immediately lifting so she can press against his side.

“It’s cruel to win with a sprint race.” She snorts, “A sprint race never stopped us before.” “It’s cruel to win with a sprint race in Qatar.” He amends. “Very true.”

He sighs, staring at the ceiling as he calms down, luckily the feeling of her fingers tapping along his stomach not making it harder. “How’s Logan feeling?” Max asks, remembering how pale he looked when they got dinner. She sighs, moving somehow closer. “Not great. No fever, but his stomach is still a bit upset.” He winces. “He gonna be okay tomorrow?” “I hope so. The team knows that he’s sick, they’ll make the right choice.” “I hope so.” He echoes, wishing that Logan felt better, hoping that he feels better by the time the race starts.

—

“We are confident in him.” Max scoffs, tossing his phone aside. “I know.” “Logan still wanting to do his new routine.” She nods, lips pursed. He shakes his head. “He did good.” It wasn’t the rookie season that Oscar had, but it couldn’t be. Oscar got lucky enough to get a seat in a near top team, while Logan got one with a back of the grid team that was sometimes midfield.

Logan scoring ten points, getting himself to sixteenth in the standings, tied with Bottas in the standings, was very good for a rookie. It was a shame that Williams seemed to think he could’ve and should have done better. At least, Max thinks, the 2025 grid was wide open for possibilities.

“Are him and Oscar still joining us?” She throws him a look. “Us?” “You.” He amends, knowing that despite him joining her, he’d get caught up in Redline and different things. He was just happy she didn’t mind that. “Only for a few days and then they both are off to Australia.” “Will Logan be joining us for Florida?” “Yes. My mom has been asking the next time she’s going to see her only grandchild.” Max laughs at the eye roll. “So, Belgium first, then Monaco,” “You go to Milton for a day after.” He nods, “then Greece, Florida, Monaco.” “Not bad for the first few weeks of winter break.” “Not bad at all.” He agrees, wrapping his arms around her waist, chest pressed against her back.

It’s quiet between the couple as Max sways them.

“Max.” “Yes?” “Your mom, she does know that I’m not in my forties right? Or thirties?” She figured that the woman did, but she also had only briefly gotten to meet her at the one race, and there had been an odd expression on her face when Max introduced her as his girlfriend. He freezes. “Max.” “I knew I forgot something.”

@ohtous @cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @quackquackhun @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67 @namgification @asphalstead @poppyflower-22 @racingheartsposts @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803

[fastandcarlos]

Streamer Baby : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: when max leaves you and your daughter to stream for the night, only one of you is happy to let max go and play for a while

Max’s eyes lit up as soon as he walked into your apartment, heavy footsteps thudding through. He dropped to his knees as your daughter ran through to meet him, leaping up straight into his arms. His grip was tight as her arms wrapped around his neck, kicking her legs excitably at the sight of her dad returning home. After a couple of moments you followed through, joining the duo as Max pressed a kiss against the top of your head. Max’s free arm wrapped around you, inviting you into their hug as the three of you walked back into the apartment, all entangled in with one another.  

“I can’t stay for long,” Max told you, placing your daughter back down. “Don’t forget I’ve got that charity stream tonight.” 

“Don’t worry, I didn’t forget,” you smiled, heading back into the kitchen to carry on preparing dinner for the three of you. 

“Where are you going daddy?” Your daughter asked, her hand still resting on Max’s leg to make sure that he couldn’t run away from her. 

“I’ve just got a bit of work to do sweetheart,” he smiled, brushing his hand over the top of her head. “I promise that I won’t be too long.” 

“You’re stuck with mummy for a little while longer,” you joked, trying your best to keep her smiling. 

“I’d rather be stuck with mummy then do what I have to do tonight,” Max grinned, bending down and lifting your daughter up, a loud squeal escaping from her. 

“You can try and make me feel better, but I know she’s a daddy’s girl,” you assured Max, appreciating the efforts that he went to. He couldn’t help it, he felt guilty sometimes that your daughter clung to him more than you, but you didn’t mind, being a spectator of their relationship was pretty special too. 

“I’ll make sure that I’m done so I can come and say goodnight,” Max informed you both, placing your daughter down in one of the dining chairs just to the side of where you were. He walked around and grabbed himself a drink and a snack from the fridge before heading for the door. “If you need anything, you know where I am,” he smiled, pressing a kiss against the top of your daughter’s head, moving around to kiss the side of yours too before leaving the two of you to it. 

A sigh came from Max as he closed the door behind himself, hearing the groans of your daughter cry out straight away. He felt helpless as you called out her name in the hope that she would stop complaining, but it wasn’t to be. Whilst George headed upstairs, you found a couple of her toys lying around the kitchen floor, picking them up and placing them in front of her, only for her to chuck them to one side. 

“I want to play with daddy,” she cried out, folding her arms in front of her chest, a habit of Max’s she’d definitely picked up. 

“I want to spend time with daddy too, but he’s busy,” you weakly smiled, picking the toys back up off the floor. 

“Why’s he busy?” 

“Because he’s working,” you explained, opening up the kitchen door again to place the toys back in their box. “Why don’t you go and watch the television sweetheart then mummy can get on with sorting dinner?” 

“Can I watch Bluey?” She excitedly asked, offering the first hint of a smile she’d shown since Max left the room. 

“You can watch whatever you want,” you replied, keen to keep that smile on her face for as long as you possibly could. “I’m sure once daddy is done with work he’d love to come and watch Bluey with you too.” 

“Daddy’s coming now?” She quizzed, not quite understanding what you meant. 

“Soon,” you spoke, only for her smile to fade again. You quickly turned the television on, hurrying to find any episode that you could to put on and distract your daughter. Once you had one, you left her to it, heading back into the kitchen so that you could finish preparing dinner for the three of you without any distractions around. 

Above where you were, Max was all set up with his headphones on, talking to some of his fellow drivers who were taking part in the charity stream. He was lost in his own little bubble until a stream of light came through the door leaving him unable to see what was happening on the screen, the light hitting the exact spot where his character was. 

His eyes glanced to the door to see what was going on, only for a little figure to peer around the door frame, a cheeky smile etched on her face. “Love, what are you doing?” Max chuckled as he met your daughter’s eyes. 

“I missed you,” she grinned, inviting herself into the room, her chaotic feet charging through the room to where he was. 

“I’ve only been gone ten minutes,” Max laughed, bending down to pick her up anyway, sitting her down in his lap. Her arms immediately went around his chest, sticking to him tightly just in case anyone tried to take her away. He didn’t have the heart to tell her to move as she wriggled around to make herself comfortable, her hair flicking in front of the screen over and over again. The boys were baffled on the end of the line as Max’s character was killed, he’d gone from top of the leaderboard to bottom of the pack in no time at all, all thanks to the troublemaker cuddled up to him. 

Usually Max hated coming last, especially when it came to impressing on stream, but for once Max could make an allowance. His weakness was absolutely your daughter, every single person that knew Max could tell you that too, which was why it didn’t take long for the other boys to figure out why Max had suddenly plummeted to the bottom of the rankings. 

“Have you got a little guest?” Charles laughed through his headset as Max’s character was shot again. 

“I might have a team mate,” Max sniggered in response, “not that she’s exactly doing a good job of helping me right now.” 

“Don’t use your child to cover the fact you’re rubbish at this game,” Lando teased, celebrating being the one to defeat Max. 

“I’m being honest,” Max chuckled, glancing down at your daughter again. “You just wait until you have kids one day, you won’t be able to get anything done anymore without a little figure following you around constantly.” 

“Why don’t you just tell her to go away?” Lando jokingly quizzed, hearing several groans from many of the drivers through his headphones. 

“Shut up Lando,” Max grinned, “do you hear how stupid you sound sometimes?” 

As the game restarted, Max tried his best to focus again without your daughter getting in the way. That was soon interrupted again though when you peered through the door, smiling softly when you saw your daughter cuddled up to Max, relieved to see that she was safe in the hold of her father. 

“She just couldn’t stay away,” Max laughed, knowing exactly what you were looking at. 

“I had no idea where she’d gone,” you grinned with a shake of your head. “One minute she was there, the next she was gone.” 

“I knew she wasn’t going to leave me alone for long,” Max smiled, taking his headphones off for a moment. “I didn’t have the heart to tell her to go back downstairs again.” 

“It’s alright, she’s not getting in the way though, is she?” You asked him. 

“I’ve lost every round.” 

Oh,” you smirked, unable to hold back your laughter. “It’s for charity so I don’t think you’re allowed to get mad about that.” 

“I also don’t think I have the heart to get mad at this one either,” he chuckled, nodding down at your daughter. 

“No way, she’s a daddy’s girl after all.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[adorekento]

been thinking about dad!sukuna where no matter how hard he is, he'll always be soft to your kids, if possible add nsfw in the end too ;)

So Needy...

synopsis: They say that no matter how tough or rude your man is, he'll always and will be sweet to your kid. But when your little one's tucked in tight, they say... get ready for a freaky night!

warnings (18+): MDNI. dad!sukuna x mom!reader, fluff to smut, explicit SMUT, P in V, unprotected sex (take it or leave it /j wrap it up y'all), dominance, possessiveness, creampie, breeding kink, foreplay (if u closed ur eyes), begging, dry humping, fingering, riding, edging (?), cursing, pet names, mature, and strong language, etc.

wc: 4.8K (proofread)

a/n: this got me giggling and SHIT BRO I want him so bababbabaaadddd GOT IT MOANING HIS NAME IN MORSE CODE (29381837812)¡!!!!!!¡!!¡! I weote this liek Bro 3am PLZ Tske this ignore the errors I'm still Half aslewp

"Mama... good morning..." your 5 year old daughter mumbled as she shuffled over to you on the couch, resting her head on your lap.

"Mornin', sweetie. How’d you sleep?" you asked softly, closing your book and gently running your fingers through her messy hair.

"Still… sleepy, Mama…"

"Well, why did you get up then? You could’ve stayed in bed and slept better..." you said while adjusting her pajamas.

"But Mama, you and Papa aren’t there..." she pouted, looking up at you with those big eyes. "Where’s Papa, Mama?"

"He went out to get breakfast stuff. We didn’t expect you to wake up so early. Are you hungry? I can make something while we wait for your Papa."

"Nooo Mama. Let’s wait for Papa. Then we can all eat together at the same time.."

"Alright.. How about you get a bit more sleep here and then I’ll wake you up when Papa's back?" you suggested with a smile and she nodded sleepily.

—

Not too long after, the door opened and Sukuna walked in with groceries in his hand.

His eyes immediately found you and your daughter, curled up on the couch. You gave him a soft smile and placed a finger over your lips.

"She was asking for you when she woke up, you know?" you whispered softly, carefully adjusting your daughter’s head onto a pillow before standing up slowly, making sure not to disturb her.

"Why? you two can't live without me?" he said while placing the bags on the counter and glancing down at his peacefully sleeping daughter.

You moved to the kitchen, wrapping your arms around his waist as he started unpacking. "She insisted on waiting for you so we can have breakfast together." you said as you rest your head on his back.

"Tch, that stubborn brat." He rolled his eyes.

"Shut up, I know you love her."

"You sayin’ I’m going soft?" Sukuna turned around and leaned in closer, his hand brushing your waist.

"You? Soft? Never!" you chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Sukuna pulled you closer, his breath warm against your ear. "You’re lucky she’s asleep." he murmured, his voice husky, sending a shiver down your spine.

His hand slid down your back, fingers lightly tracing patterns through your clothes.

"Soft definitely isn’t the word for you... not even right now..." you whispered with a smirk, biting your lip as you felt something hard pressing against you from below, teasing him as you shifted your hips just slightly, feeling his grip tighten around you.

"You really wanna test me, huh?" he growled softly, brushing his lips against your neck.

Before things could escalate, you heard a yawn from the couch. Your daughter had started to wake up, she's rubbing her eyes and stretching lazily.

Sukuna clicked his tongue in annoyance, pulling away with a reluctant sigh but not before snagging a quick kiss. "Guess we’ll have to continue this later." he said making you giggle.

"Papa!"

Sukuna crouched down, catching her effortlessly and lifting her into his arms. "Morning, brat." She giggled when he kissed her cheek, hugging his neck tightly.

"Are we having breakfast now?" she asked, her eyes bright as she looked between the two of you.

"Yeah." Sukuna said, ruffling her hair before setting her down. He glanced over at you with a playful glint in his eye. "You owe me later."

"I’ll think about it."

"You owe Papa something, Mama?" your daughter asked, playing with her spoon and fork.

"I don’t know, do I now, honey?" you teased, grabbing the comb to brush her hair.

"Shut up."

"Mama, if Papa is making you angry, tell me, okay? I’ll talk to him!" your daughter said, pumping her fist.

"Oh, my sweetie... Papa’s making Mama angry! What’s my little one gonna do about it?" you laughed, combing her hair.

"Then I won’t talk to Papa anymore!" she pouted, making you giggle.

"Aww, you didn't even hesitate! But wouldn’t it make Papa sad? What if Papa cries, sweetie?" you pouted back, making Sukuna’s eye twitch.

"Who says I’m gonna cry?"

"I did, a problem?"

"Papa! What did I say about speaking gently to Mama?!" your daughter shouted.

"Right, right! Remember, baby, never copy your dad’s behavior, okay? Never speak rudely. Mama doesn’t like it. If Mama catches you speaking like that... Mama will be sad." you said, barely containing your giggles.

Your daughter nodded seriously, clearly taking the lesson to heart. "Okay, Mama. I’ll be nice every day."

"That's my good girl!"

—

After breakfast, Sukuna helped clean up while you tended to your daughter. She mentioned she was still sleepy and wanted to head back to bed. You tucked her in, smoothing her blankets and brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.

"Sleep tight, sweetie." you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

"Mhm... I love you, Mama and Papa..." she murmured, already drifting off.

"We love you more, baby." You said softly, leaving her room and closing the door gently behind you.

When you returned to the living room, you found Sukuna lounging on the couch, his head resting on his hand.

"Come here."

"You’re so full of yourself today and it’s not even noon yet." you teased, raising an eyebrow.

"Or maybe I’m just waiting for my reward." he said as you sat down beside him, draping your arms around his neck.

"And what makes you think you deserve a reward?" you asked, leaning in.

"Because I’m an amazing dad and a handsome husband?" he replied with a grin.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "You're acting as if that's your full-time job."

Sukuna leaned closer, his hand brushing your hair behind your ear. His touch was warm and comforting. "C'mon... don’t keep me waiting, baby..." he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

"Needy, aren’t you?"

"Yeah, I'm worth it."

You chuckled. "Oh, really? And what makes you so sure about that?"

Sukuna’s hand continued to trace gentle patterns on your back as he leaned in closer. "I’ve got my ways," he said, his voice low and filled with confidence. "I think you’ve got a pretty good idea of what I’m talking about."

You laughed softly, tilting your head to the side. "Not at all... I know you're insufferable though..."

"Insufferable AND irresistible."

You slid closer, enjoying the warmth of his body against yours. "Anddd... what if... I’m not in the mood to reward you right now?"

"Then I guess I’ll just have to make you change your mind, baby." he said, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke.

"I wanna see you try?"

"Oh, I don't have to try." he said with a smirk.

You leaned in closer, your faces inches apart. "Well, don’t keep me waiting," you teased, your voice barely a whisper.

Without breaking eye contact, he reached up, his fingers gently grazing your cheek as he closed the distance between you.

His kiss was slow and deliberate, brimming with the unique combination of passion and affection that only he can ever give.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with satisfaction. "Is that enough convincing?"

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his kiss linger. "Maybe." you said playfully. "But I think you might need to keep trying if you want to really win me over."

Sukuna chuckled, his hands resting on your hips as he drew you closer. "You wanna play, huh..." he groaned.

You leaned in closer, your lips almost brushing against his ear. "Mhm..." you teased, your breath warm against his skin. "Show me."

With a wicked grin, Sukuna’s hands slid up your back, pulling you even closer. His lips traced a slow, deliberate path along your jawline, sending shivers down your spine. His touch was light yet intense, every movement filled with purpose.

"Is this convincing enough?"

You could barely suppress a moan as his lips moved closer to yours. "Nah..." you said, your voice breathy and teasing. "I think you’re going to have to work a bit harder..."

Sukuna’s smirk widened as he guided you to sit on his lap, the firm pressure of his bulge pressing against you. His hands rested possessively on your hips, keeping you securely in place.

"Look who’s getting comfortable." he murmured, his voice low and full of amusement. "Guess I’m doing something right."

You shifted slightly, feeling the heat radiating from him. "Oh, you think so?" you teased, leaning in closer so your lips were near his ear. "But you still haven’t convinced me."

Sukuna’s hands slid up your back, his touch both firm and gentle as he pulled you closer. His lips brushed your neck in a teasing trail, making your breath hitch.

"You're just pushing your luck." he growled, his voice a dark promise. "But I’m more than happy to oblige."

You felt a shiver run down your spine as his lips lingered near your ear, his breath warm and tantalizing.

"And how do you plan on doing that?" you asked breathlessly, trying to maintain your teasing tone despite the growing heat.

"Oh, I have my methods." he said, his hands moving to your waist and gripping you tightly.

"But first... I really want to see you squirm."

You tried to adjust yourself, but your fumbling only seemed to heighten the tension between you. "You’re really making it hard for me to focus." you admitted with a laugh.

"Good, I love it when you’re a little off balance."

His lips finally met yours, you found yourself responding eagerly, the playful challenge melting into a deeper, more connection.

As he deepened the kiss, his hands roamed over your back, his touch were electrifying. Every press was calculated to make you feel the pleasure as his teasing never let you settled.

Sukuna’s hands slid up and down your back as the kiss became more insistent, more consuming, as he deepened it, making your head spin with the intensity of his desire.

His fingers found their way to the small of your back, pulling you even closer against him. The heat of his body pressed into you, accentuating the playful struggle you were having to stay balanced on his lap.

You could feel every subtle shift of his muscles beneath you, each one making the heat between you grow.

You broke the kiss just long enough to catch your breath, your eyes fluttering open to meet his intense gaze. "You’re really not making this easy..." you murmured.

"Isn’t that the point?"

He trailed kisses along your jawline and down your neck, his lips brushing lightly against your skin, making you shiver with anticipation.

You adjusted his collar, unbuttoning his shirt with deliberate slowness. Your icy fingers against his warm skin only heightened the growing heat between you.

The thought of where this is leading had your pussy throbbing.

The thought of taking this to the living room was dangerously exciting.

You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d manage to stay quiet—or if Sukuna would even let you. He loved hearing your voice, especially when he’s the one pushing you to lose control.

The thought of him pushing you to your limits and making sure everyone knew he was the one making you feel this way was seriously hot.

Leaning in closer, your lips brushed against his ear as you whispered provocatively, "Think you can handle letting me decide how loud this gets?"

Sukuna’s breath was hot against your neck as he growled low, "If that’s what you want, I’ll let you have it—for now." His hands gripped you tightly, pulling you flush against him, making it almost impossible to think about anything but the intense fire building between you.

"For now? I’m not sure how much longer I can keep quiet..."

"So you just want me to make you scream, huh?"

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a moan. "Yeah..." you admitted, your voice wavering slightly with the intensity of the moment. "But I also want you to make me lose control completely."

He chuckled darkly, his hands sliding down to your hips and pulling you into a closer, more intimate position. "I’ve been thinking about that..." he murmured, his lips brushing yours before he kissed you deeply again.

Sukuna’s hands roamed your body with a possessive, eager touch, his kisses getting hotter and more urgent. He gripped your hips tighter, pulling you in.

"Fuckkk..." you whispered, your voice shaky as his lips worked their way down your neck and shoulders.

"I haven’t even started yet and you’re already a moaning mess..." he growled, his hands cupping your face as he kissed you hard. His kiss was all-consuming, making you gasp for air and wanting more.

His lips moved to your ear, his breath hot and teasing. "You want this, don’t you?" he growled, his voice rough and making your spine tingle.

"Yes..." you gasped, fingers digging into his hair as you pulled him closer. "I want this. I want you."

Sukuna’s grip on your waist was firm and possessive. "Good..." he smirked, his tone both demanding and confident. "'Cause I’m about to give you everything you’re craving."

He lifted you slightly, his movements were smooth as he shifted you into a more intimate position. His body pressed firmly against yours and the heat of his desire was undeniable.

Every touch and every kiss from him was making you crazy like it's impossible to focus on anything but heat that's rising between you.

Sukuna’s large hands explored your body as he lifted you with an ease, adjusting you.

Your body radiates a heat that was impossible to ignore.

His kisses wandered from your lips to your cheeks, then to your neck, and finally, he lifted your right arm to kiss your wrist.

You couldn’t help but giggle as you ground yourself against his straining cock, the thin barrier of clothing the only thing keeping you apart.

The direct contact between your bodies made the moment even more intense.

His hands slid down your body, lifting your dress and exploring your thighs, dangerously close to your aching pussy.

’He's doing this on purpose...’ you groaned, feeling the teasing touch. "Stop teasing me..." You bit your lip.

"Shh... we have all the time we need, baby..."

"That doesn’t mean you can’t just drop the act and fuck me senseless!" you whispered.

"Shut up. You can’t tell me what to do." he retorted.

"But you promised you’d give me what I want!" you whispered-yelled, making him scoff at your impatience.

Sukuna’s smirk widened at your frustration, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Promises, promises." he said, "But you know I enjoy making you work for it."

His hands continued the exploration, clicking the edge of your underwear. His touch made it hard for you to stay as sane, your breath coming in uneven gasps.

You shifted on his lap, trying to ease the pressure, but nothing. "C'mon..." you breathed, "don’t make me beg."

"Begging, huh?"

"But I love hearing you beg."

Sukuna’s smirk grew more intense as he continued his teasing. His fingers brushed your clit on your underwear, and the sensation made you shiver with frustration.

You tried to shift on his lap, desperate for more contact, but he only seemed to enjoy making you squirm.

"Begging suits you, princess." he said, his voice a low murmur, filled with desire. "It’s cute hearing you ask for it."

You bit your lip, trying to control your breathing. "Stop playing and just—" you started, but he cut you off with a sudden heated kiss.

His hands gripped your hips firmly, pulling you closer. The kiss was rough, filled with raw passion and his touch became more insistent. His fingers finally slid underneath your underwear, his touch direct and electrifying.

"You’re really eager, huh?" Sukuna murmured, his voice rough and low as it brushed against your lips. "But I guess I can’t make you wait forever."

You gasped as he pulled your panties aside, His fingers began to rub your clit with a good pressure, sending waves of pleasure through your veins with every touch.

"Finally...!" you moaned, pressing against his fingers, your frustration giving way to your unfiltered desire.

"There you go..."

Sukuna's touch became more insistent, his fingers moving with a steady rhythm that matched the increasing urgency of your moans.

He grinned, clearly getting off on your reactions. Each time his fingers touched you, you gasped and squirmed.

"Enjoying this?" he teased, his voice rough and low as he kept teasing you just the way he knew you liked.

You could only respond with breathy moans and nods, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations. The world around you seemed to narrow to just the two of you, your focus entirely on the pleasure he was giving you.

The way his fingers slid in and out of your pussy had you moaning loudly, unable to hold back your noise.

Sukuna shoved his fingers into your mouth, making you gag. "I know you’re into making sounds, but you really don’t want our kid to wake up, do you?" he said with a dark chuckle, clearly amused by the situation.

‘Damn, I totally forgot…’ you thought, panic setting in. You’d been so wrapped up in everything happening right then that your daughter sleeping nearby had completely slipped your mind.

"Mmm, sorry baby... Faster please..." you mumbled around his fingers, your voice muffled. You dug your nails into his forearms, your need clear despite the gagging.

He quickly picked up the pace, his fingers moving in and out faster, pushing you closer to the edge.

He could feel you getting near your peak, no need for you to say a word.

He knew exactly how to push you to that intense climax you were craving.

All that teasing and buildup has left you intensely on edge, craving release more than anything.

You’re practically desperate to just hop on his cock, and have him give you what you need.

But you can’t take charge here as you know Sukuna likes to do everything. It’s not like you have no say at all, but you trust that he knows exactly how to handle things.

So, you let him take the lead, knowing he’ll do what’s necessary to make sure you get what you’re yearning for.

"Come on my fingers, babe. Show me how badly you need it." Sukuna murmured in your ear, his voice sending shivers all over.

The way he spoke made your face flush, and before long, you were dripping all over his fingers, completely lost in the sensation.

You arched your back, gasping for air as the pleasure surged through you. Every part of your body trembled, and you struggled to catch your breath.

The room seemed to spin around you as you tried to steady yourself, every muscle in your body feeling tight and quivering. Sukuna’s fingers, coated with your release, brushed gently over your skin.

"You’re still so worked up..." he said, his voice low and teasing, clearly enjoying the sight.

He trails his fingers slowly down your body, feeling every quiver, every reaction.

The way you’re still catching your breath, the way your eyes flutter open and closed—it's all fueling his desire.

He leans in again, his voice a soft, seductive whisper. "I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? For me to keep pushing you like this?"

Your body practically aches toward him, craving more. Sukuna pulls his fingers out, a smirk playing on his lips as he looks at the mess you made.

"So dirty." he chuckled, eyeing your juices on his fingers with a smirk.

You straightened up, covering your mouth with your hand and turning away, feeling a flush of embarrassment. "You didn’t have to put it like that..." you mumbled.

"Why so shy all of a sudden?" he teased, his grin widening as he slipped his fingers into his mouth, savoring every drop of your release.

The way he looked at you, his eyes dark with desire as he licked his fingers made your pussy clench with need.

"Can you just fuck me already?" you begged, your voice desperate. "Please…"

He pulled his fingers from his mouth, gripping your neck as he pressed his lips against yours with an intimate kiss.

His other hand slid beneath your shirt, teasing your nipples. He gave them a quick flick, causing you to gasp. Seizing the moment, he deepened the kiss, letting you taste yourself.

He continued to kiss you wild. His touch was making the heat between you grow more crazy with every second.

You could feel the pressure building and the anticipation almost unbearable as he made his intentions clear.

He pulled away just enough to look into your eyes. "Are you ready for more?" he asked and you could only nod in response, completely caught up in the moment.

You propped yourself up as he unzipped his pants, pulling them down. You took this chance to peel off your shirt, leaving yourself in just your bra and panties.

He guided your hips to rest on his lap, his lips crashing onto your neck with a forceful, almost feverish intensity.

The kisses were deep and relentless, driving you wild. He found that sensitive spot on your neck, pressing into it with a knowing touch.

It wasn’t just that he found it—he knew exactly how to hit it, making you moan loudly at the sensation.

He seemed to know your body even better than you do.

He kept his focus on your neck, his kisses growing more insistent, making you shiver with every touch.

His left hand moved skillfully across your back, effortlessly undoing your bra in one swift motion. His lips never left your neck, their heat intensifying as he found that sensitive spot.

With your bra now removed, his hand slid to your chest, his fingers brushing lightly over your bare skin.

The sensation made you gasp, your breath hitching as he explored further. He continued his slow kisses on your neck.

He paused for a moment, just above your collarbone, breathing heavily against your skin.

His hand—that's now free to explore—moved up to cup your breast.

His thumb brushed over your nipple, causing it to get hard instantly. He teased your nipple with slow circles making you moan softly.

"So fucking... wild."

You moaned softly as his cold thick fingers toyed with your other nipple, sending sharp jolts of pleasure through you.

His mouth latched onto your breast, and the sudden pressure made you bite down hard on your lip, a whimper escaping before you could stop it.

You ground your hips against his, your soaked panties sliding over his hard cock. The slickness between you made the friction even more intense and you could feel his pre-cum through the fabric.

He groaned against your chest, teeth grazing your nipple, causing you to squirm and press harder against him.

Your hands gripped his head, pushing him closer, desperate for more. "Fuck... baby." he groaned.

His mouth moved eagerly against your skin, his groans vibrating through you as his teeth grazed your sensitive nipple again, sending another shiver down your spine.

His hands slid down your body, gripping your hips and guiding your grinding, pushing you harder against him.

The friction was electric, your panties soaked as you rubbed yourself against his cock. Every brush made your body tremble with need.

"You’re making it hard for me to control myself." he growled into your skin, his voice thick with lust. His lips moved up to your neck, biting gently before soothing it with his tongue, leaving you breathless and wanting even more.

You gasped, rolling your hips faster, the pressure inside you building rapidly. The way his hands gripped you tighter, the way his lips kept teasing your skin—it was all too much.

You needed more, and you needed it now.

"W-Who told you to—control yourself..." you groaned, pressing down even harder against his cock, the need almost unbearable.

"Just fuck me now... Please..." your voice shaky with desperation, your breath hot against his ear as you ground your hips, begging for him to give you exactly what you craved.

His fingers trailed down from your nipples to your thighs, edging closer to your core. This time, though, he pushed your panties aside, teasingly rubbing the tip of his cock against your entrance.

Just the tip, but it was already making you moan utterly loud, your mind spinning in a whirlwind of thoughts.

A part of you—in this heat—wondered if you'd even mind having another kid, the idea of him breeding you leaving your mind foggy with desire.

But you’d never admit it—not when he already had more than enough of an ego.

He smirked, feeling the way your body reacted to his teasing, pressing the tip against your entrance but not pushing in, making you tremble with anticipation. "So needy... look at you, already so desperate and I haven’t even put it in yet."

"Then put it in now!" You bucked your hips against him, trying to push him inside, but he held your hips firmly, keeping you still.

"Patience..." he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

Your mind was racing, the teasing too much, the feeling of his cock so close but not enough. You could feel your pulse pounding in your ears, your body on fire, aching for him to just take you.

"Bet you’d want me to—"

You cut him off with an urgent kiss, catching him off guard as you lowered yourself onto his thick cock, feeling him fill you completely.

You pulled back from the kiss, burying your face in his neck and biting down hard to keep your moans quiet. You knew you'd leave a mark, but you didn’t give a damn.

His cock twitched inside you, and his groans grew louder as he felt your sudden, intense move.

He gripped on your ass tightly and gave them a smack. "Looks like my girl’s a real freak." he chuckled. His comment made you clench around him even more.

In that moment, you lost all sense of anything, even the truth that he's your husband but damn the idea of repeating this only fueled your excitement as you eagerly rode his cock.

His size was fucking insane... you felt every ridge and vein of him and it's like he was sculpted just for you.

As you moved on him, his groans grew louder. The way he responded to every shift and motion of your body made you even more eager.

His hands on your hips were perfect, guiding you just the way you wanted.

You noticed how your husband’s eyes were glued to your bouncing breasts and the way you were taking him in and out.

His hesitation to meet your gaze just made you feel more in control. You grabbed his face firmly, making him look up at you.

"Eyes up here, baby." you said firmly, making sure he had no choice but to focus on you.

"Alright, Woman..." he chuckled, clearly enjoying how his words made you tighten around him. He knew his words drove you wild, making you squirm with desire every time he spoke.

"You’ve got me wanting to put a brat in you again.” he said with a smirk. His words made you close your eyes, and your movements grew more desperate.

"You’re seriously.. making me want to fill you up and maybe even get you pregnant..." Sukuna said, "Makes me wonder how you’d handle at least six—of them running.. around the house. You’re so damn good with our little one…" He watched you lower your head, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

The thought of Sukuna wanting another child with you is overwhelming. Even though pregnancy isn’t your favorite thing, the idea of him wanting to completely fill you up is making you wetter.

You grip him tighter, making him groan. "Hah..—Already thinking about it? Want me to fill you up, yeah? Tell me what you want." he teased, his voice dripping with desire.

The intensity of the moment leaves you speechless, and you can only nod in agreement.

His cock pulses and throbs deep inside you, and as you climax, the intense pleasure overwhelms you. You can feel his warm release filling you up completely, amplifying your own pleasure.

The simultaneous rush of your orgasms causes you to moan loudly, your body shaking.

As the waves of pleasure went down, Sukuna’s breath comes in deep ragged gasps. His grip on your hips loosens, but his cock remains firmly nestled inside you.

"So... you’re really full of surprises, huh?" he drawls, his voice low and rough, laced with a dangerous edge.

You arch an eyebrow, smirking as you shift slightly. "You think.. you know everything about me?... There’s always something new with me."

He chuckles darkly, his fingers lazily fixing your hair from behind. "Oh, I’m aware. It’s part of what makes this so damn interesting. You push boundaries."

You let out a soft laugh, enjoying the shift in his demeanour. "And you don’t exactly play it safe yourself."

"That’s one way to put it."

"I wouldn’t want it any other way. Boring isn’t really my style, Suuu-kuna~"

"Good. Because I’m far from done with you."

© [ adorekento ] do not steal, repost, or translate my work.

[stunie]

“DIDN’T MEAN TO HURT YOU!”

HAIKYUU + ACCIDENTALLY HURTING YOU. ft. hinata shoyo, kuroo tetsurou, & tsukishima kei x f!reader

filled request : “Since you said you write for haikyuu, can you imagine how sweet those tall (Hinata is tall in spirit) and strong green flag boys would be all very sorry and remourseful for harming their baby in accident? I think even Tsukishima (my fave asshole) would try to make it up even if it wasnt that serious.”

note : added kuroo ^ ^ <33 thank u for sending this in nonnie !!!

TSUKISHIMA KEI.

You don’t know when the brilliant idea of jump-scaring Tsukishima Kei first popped into your mind. Maybe it was because he’s been egging you on lately, resting a heavy arm on your head, then on your shoulders— snickering when you start huffing and puffing about how “You’re not a damn armrest.”

Cute- to him, probably. But today would be your turn to mess with him, show him a little taste of his own medicine, or something like that. You just think it’d be funny to hear him scream for once.

You’re as quiet as can be when you tiptoe behind him from where he’s pouring himself a bowl of cereal, your fluffiest socks already on to ensure maximum silence with the extra cushioning. All it would take was one singular hug around his middle— and then you’d squeeze, force the scream right out of his body.

You’re so close to him that you can hear his breathing now, each soft breath making your heart race a little faster, and you’re suddenly reminded of just how big your boyfriend is. You have to glance upwards to check how he’s doing, and you confirm the fact that he’s indeed.. still focused on perfecting his cereal to milk ratio.

Too much to notice you right behind him, at least.

It all happened too quickly for either of you to have reacted differently. You’re pouncing forward, arms reaching to circle around his waist, and you just barely register the sound of a loud gasp before there’s an impact directly to your nose, your body recoiling back as your vision flashes white.

“F-fuck!” You wince, staggering a couple steps back before you crouch down, hands flying to your nose to clutch it tightly as soon as the throbbing pain sets in.

“What the hell?” He sputters, eyes flickering from his elbow to your face a couple times before he’s rushing to crouch beside you. His hands are awkwardly hovering over your body as he tries to get a better look at you. “What were you doing there? Let me see.”

“Kei,” you sniffle, letting him pry your hands away from your face with a pained hiccup, “Was just gonna scare you….ouch…”

“You’re an idiot,” he snaps, but his eyes are full of worry when he leans in to examine your face. His finger comes to gently trace over your nose, other hand tilting your head up. “..At least it’s not bleeding.”

“Mhm,” you give him a nod, “..So did i get you?”

His eyes narrow at you, but he shifts, leaning forward and nodding for you to climb onto his back. “Idiot,” he’s grumbling to himself, “Do you even have to ask?”

The way you pout at the nickname has his eyes softening ever so slightly before he’s tearing his gaze away from you. “Get on already. There’s enough cereal for both of us.”

“Hm? But you only got one spoon,” you wrap your arms around him, letting him lift you up onto his back.

“And?”

KUROO TETSUROU.

“Look at this one,” Kuroo laughs, tightening the arm around your frame to pull you closer against his side. “He looks like Garfield, doesn’t he? What a neat cat.”

“Mhm,” you hum, nuzzling your nose into his chest as you scroll through your own socials. It was a routine the two of you had, to scroll absentmindedly while tangled in each other’s limbs until someone falls asleep first— except Kuroo’s been laughing uncontrollably for the last ten minutes.

You shoot him a nervous glare each time his phone threatens to slip from his grasp, the scare he gives you always accompanied with an “Oops! That was close.”

“Tetsu…” you warn when he suddenly jolts again, frantically adjusting his grip with a shaky chuckle. Your head was right below his phone, after all. “Don’t worry, don’t worry,” he smiles, free hand rubbing your head. “I’d never let it fall on you.”

“You’d better not..” your voice trails off into a sleepy mumble, and you switch your phone off, letting it plop onto the mattress as you wrap your arms tightly around his middle. “I’m starting to feel a lil tired..”

“Hmm? I’ll be joining you soon, sleepy girl,” he soothes, hand moving to rub your upper back as you melt into his touch. “Ah! That Garfield-looking cat is back,” he gasps, followed by a hushed whisper when you stir, “Oops. Inside voice, inside voice… hm? What’s this?”

You start to fidget, awkwardly adjusting your position against his side when he suddenly falls eerily silent. maybe too silent. You count the seconds of silence— ten seconds, then fifteen. You perk up a bit, one eye opening to check on your boyfriend, but he’s suddenly jerking back and yelping the moment after, phone slipping from his hands and landing right on your head with a loud thud. “Ah-!”

“Oh— sorry, sorry!” His large hand is covering your head instantly, the other tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “Didn’t mean to drop that on you. Just scared the living daylights out of me. That garfield, damned jumpscare… you okay?”

You glare at him, but it doesn’t come off threatening with the tears filling your eyes. “Tetsu…” you growl, and he flinches. “I know, I know! I’m so sorry,” he says, pulling you closer to pepper kisses over the top of your head. “I told you…” you pout, “I’m gonna get a bump on my head now.”

His lips tug into a sheepish smile at the thought of a lump forming on your head. “That’s my bad…”

“You’re laughing!”

“I’m not!” He protests, his hands rising up in defensive as you angrily puff your cheeks out. “Nope. No way. This is no time for laughing.”

He pulls you into a hug, chuckling as you weakly push at his chest with a whine. “There, there. You can be mad at me all you want. I deserve it.”

“Although, I think you’d be cute with a bump on your head too.”

HINATA SHOYO.

If you ask him, Hinata would still swear on everything that his intention back then was nothing more than to squish you in a suffocating bear hug. He definitely did not mean to knock you onto the floor your very first day back from vacation or anything like that.

You just looked so pretty waiting for him at the airport, soft smile tugging at your lips as you checked on his location through your phone one last time before tucking it away into your pocket. The way you shifted between your toes and the balls of your feet was just so cute, too cute that he couldn’t help but start running towards you, arms stretching out to give you the biggest hug of your life.

His eyes were slammed shut the moment he leapt towards you, so he didn’t catch the way your mouth fell open in a gasp or the way your eyes widened as your weight suddenly shifted backwards. “S-Shoyo?!”

The sound of your voice has his eyes shooting open, a surprised “E-eh?” coming out when he realizes the two of you are falling— and fast. He’s barely able to snake a hand underneath your head before the two of you crash onto the floor with a loud thud.

“Ouch— oops,” he grumbles, eyes slowly blinking open as he shifts onto his elbow. There’s a sigh of relief from him when he sees that your fall was at least partially cushioned by his hand, and you seem unhurt with the way you’re blinking up at the passerby before shying away from their gaze when you realize they’d stopped to stare at the two of you sprawled out on the floor.

“Sorry— are you okay?” Hinata’s looming over you now, carefully setting your head on his lap. “You didn’t hit your head, did you?”

“N-no…” you mumble, eyes narrowing into a glare as he freezes in place. “Shoyo,” your voice falls to a whisper, “They’re all looking at us now. really closely too…”

“What?” Hinata laughs, “Shy again?”

You tear your gaze to the side, cheek puffing out a bit. “A little…”

“Want me to carry you?”

your eyes widen. “H-huh?”

“Mhm,” he’s smiling brightly, arms snaking around your body to lift you up in bridal style as you yelp, scrambling to hold onto your bag, “I gotcha. Let’s go home now!”

“..Shoyo!” Your cheeks burn when you notice the onlookers now giving you a soft smile— and the elderly couple behind them are exchanging looks before they’re whispering something to each other- you recognize it as an ‘aww’ by the way their lips move.

“This is more embarrassing!”

“Hm, is it?” He looks confused by your shyness, but his hands are tightening around you anyways, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry! I’ll get us back fast.”

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

Sugar

best friend!san x fem reader

Trigger warnings: none that i can think of

Content warnings: names (sweetheart, baby, sugar), oral (m&f receiving), choking (briefly), breeding, dacryphilia (kinda?), san’s got a big dick (what else is new) and is down horrendous for mc.

Summary: your best friend just can’t keep his hands to himself

Word count: 5.7k

A/N: hey babes! i finally finished it!!! its unpolished as fuck but it’s done!!! it’s only taken me forty-seven years 🥴 not saying this is a full comeback as i’m still dealing with some personal shit but i hope i’ll have something else for you relatively soon. anyways, pls reblog if you enjoy the story!! 🥰🫶🏻

Tags: @bahng-chrizz @foxinnie8

Smut below the cut

Most likely to remain high school sweethearts. That’s the yearbook superlative you and your best friend had been awarded your senior year of high school. The kicker? You had never dated him. The thought had just never crossed your mind. You were content being the hot best friends that everyone either wanted to get with or wanted to be. He wasn’t, but you didn’t know that.

Choi San had harbored the biggest crush on you since the two of you were fifteen. He’d gone through a hard breakup back then, his ex spreading rumors and lies all through school, and despite claiming he was fine because he was a player, he was heartbroken. He had been in love with the girl and she’d broken his heart and tried to ruin his reputation. So when you comforted him and confronted his ex, which ended in a cat fight in the hallway that got both of you suspended, he began to fixate on you. He dated around to keep his mind busy and off you, but he was infatuated with his best friend. With the girl who would throw down with anyone who wronged him.

He’d been heartbroken when he found out you were going away for college instead of staying local, even more so when he realized the school you’d chosen didn’t have the major he wanted. He was distraught at first, thinking you’d be too far apart to visit often. Every school he looked at seemed so far away from yours until he found the school where he was currently enrolled. This one was only an hour drive away from you and he was relieved to find that your schedule at your part time job still allowed for you two to take turns visiting each other every weekend.

You were oblivious to his feelings. You often noticed how he had trouble sleeping at your apartment but whenever you asked, he claimed he’d developed insomnia. He hadn’t, he just couldn’t sleep because of the thoughts that filled his mind from knowing you were in the next room. He felt guilty to be honest. He was constantly having dirty thoughts that normal people didn’t have about their best friend. Your mere presence reduced him to little more than a giddy, horny teenager.

You also noticed that he became more clingy after the two of you left for college but you never addressed that. He was always an affectionate person and adjusting to college life was definitely hard, so you figured it was probably that. That was part of it. But really, he just missed you. It was that simple. He missed his best friend and his heart leapt every time you opened your door or he opened his. Seeing your face made everything so much better.

Today was no different. He lit up like a neon sign when your door swung open to reveal you in a cropped white hoodie and a pair of black yoga pants, a bright smile on your face. “Sannie!” You held your arms open and he immediately stepped inside, wrapping his arms around your waist and hooking his chin over your shoulder. Everything that had been bothering him up until that moment melted away as you hugged him, your grip tightening right before you stepped back. Oh how he loved your hugs.

You led him inside and motioned for him to sit on the sofa as you grabbed the bag of goodies you’d bought the night before. “I got your favorites.” You grinned as you rejoined him, opening the bag to show him the snacks, sodas, and alcohol you’d purchased. “Oh, also, my roommate is staying with her boyfriend this weekend so you can yell at the tv all you want, we don’t have to be quiet.”

He managed to conceal the excitement he felt at your words, knowing you didn’t mean what he was thinking. “Noted.” He hummed as he settled in. “Are we picking back up where we left off on that anime?”

“We can. I think we can finish the next season if we stay glued to the couch all weekend.” You hummed as you began to stage the snacks on the coffee table, only then realizing you’d forgotten glasses for the alcohol. “We can watch something else if you don’t want to watch that though. I’ve got some other streaming services if you wanna watch a drama.” You shrugged as you got up, heading to the kitchenette.

When you came back, he was sprawled out on your couch. His arms were resting on the back and he had the full man spread going on. He kind of resembled a starfish like that and you rolled your eyes as a smile tugged at your lips. You froze when he let out a low groan as he stretched, throwing his head back. Suddenly, images of you getting him off flashed in your mind. “Let’s watch that. We can watch a drama next weekend.”

You cleared your throat a bit and nodded as you recovered. “Okie dokie.” You singsonged as you joined him, sitting close enough that you could feel his body heat but still leaving enough space that you didn’t have those thoughts again. Where the fuck had that come from? You grabbed one of the bags of chips and settled in, his arm sliding down from the back of the couch to rest on your shoulders as you pulled up the show.

The episode started and you opened the bag, offering it up to San, who shook his head. “I’m good right now, sugar.” You shrugged and leaned into him, pulling your legs up underneath you. He tensed when he realized he’d called you something he’d only imagined calling you but you didn’t seem to mind so he forced himself to relax.

What you didn’t address was the surge of arousal that flooded your body. You were a bitch for pet names and he knew that. You weren’t sure why you were turned on by his words, though. It was San. Sure he was beautiful but he had never affected you like this before. Clearly it had been too long since the last time you’d slept with someone.

Your eyes locked on the screen and you focused solely on that for four episodes before you became aware of the ache in your joints. You’d managed to sit perfectly still for two hours straight and now your body was screaming at you to move. You gently shrugged San’s arm off your shoulders and stood as the fifth episode began, letting out a soft groan of appreciation as you stretched your muscles and cracked every joint you could.

The sound of your voice caught San’s attention and his eyes locked on the exposed portion of your back, wondering what it would feel like to press kisses there. Should I try and find out? Absolutely not. Why the fuck would you even think about that? Fucking dumbass. He shook his head and let out a sigh just as you turned to ask him if he needed anything from the kitchen. “What’s wrong?” You asked softly, noticing how irritated and distressed he looked.

“Huh?” His head snapped up and his jaw dropped slightly before he recovered. “Nothing, I’m fine.” He gave you a warm smile and you responded with a confused but playful wrinkle of your nose before heading off to grab a water. That was fucking close.

You opened the bottle and took a big gulp as you reentered the room, finding him sitting up properly now. He patted the spot next to him and you plopped down beside him, leaning back into his side, this time with your back to him. You brought your feet back up on the couch and took his hand, guiding his arm around your neck in a hug and tipping your head back to rest on his shoulder.

As you once again became enthralled with the show, his fingers absentmindedly traced shapes on the side of your neck. You shuddered at his touch every few minutes but didn’t register any of it as you focused on the tv. You whined a little when he moved his arm back to the back of the sofa but didn’t protest further, too invested in the show to care too much. You shifted to rest your head on San’s lap, grabbing one of the throw pillows to lay on.

With you stretched out like this, San was struggling to focus on the show. He was fixated on your exposed belly and began to discreetly drop his arm off the back of the couch towards your waist. He bit his lip as his hand made contact with your warm flesh, trying to appear focused on the show like you. You glanced up at him and took a moment to admire the view of his jawline before poking his chin. He looked startled and almost guilty when his gaze met yours. “What’s up with you today?” You asked in a teasing tone. “You seem extra cuddly and touchy-feely.”

“What, I can’t be touchy-feely with my best friend?” He grinned down at you and something in you shifted. “I just missed you. We used to see each other every day and for the last two years we’ve only been able to see each other on weekends.”

“Simpler times.” You sighed and turned your attention back to the screen, not bothering to move his hand. It felt nice.

He was surprised that you hadn’t swatted him away but he certainly wasn’t about to complain when you were delicately tracing shapes on the back of his hand. His heart was pounding and he was thankful you hadn’t continued with that line of questioning because he wasn’t sure if he could form a coherent sentence at this point. He should’ve known better than to start to get comfortable though. The second his hand wandered a bit higher, you grabbed his wrist and he froze. Fuck.

“That’s more than touchy-feely, San, that was almost my titty.” You didn’t appear to move your attention from the tv but all you could think about was just how close his hand was to your chest. What had gotten into him? And why were you so affected by his touch? You were just friends…right?

“Oh…sorry.” He mumbled, trying to appear nonchalant despite his internal panic. You didn’t buy it though and looked up at him again, taking note of his flaming cheeks. Cute.

“Seriously, San, what’s actually going on with you?” You hated how harsh your voice came out. You hated the way he flinched at your words. You weren’t trying to scold him, you wanted to put out feelers.

“Nothing.” He shook his head and refused to look at you. You thought for a moment before biting your lip. You clearly didn’t buy it and wanted to ask if he was thinking what you were so suddenly thinking. You were about to speak up when he continued. “I’m just tired. Come cuddle.” He opened his arms.

“Tired already?” He nodded. “Must suck to be any woman you fuck.” You snorted.

“I’ll have you know I have excellent stamina, thank you.” He fired back instantly and you laughed. There he was.

“I’ll believe it when I see it, gramps.”

“Is that an invitation, sweetheart?” You were almost taken aback at his tone, as you’d only heard him use it when he was actively trying to bed someone.

“San-” He just laughed and shook his head as if to assure you he was only teasing. Somehow that bothered you more. Desire had already begun to pool between your legs. You gave a little huff and released his wrist, which you’d been holding this whole time, abruptly sitting up as you swatted his hand away. You turned to look at him as the pillow you’d been resting on toppled from his lap, exposing the semi he was rocking. So he actually did want you. “Yeah, actually, it is.” He sat in stunned silence and you bit the inside of your lip to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, only speaking once you had successfully concealed your grin. “What? Did you think I’d get flustered and back off?” You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head to the side, your tone almost mocking.

“Yeah, kin-”

“Cute.” You cut him off and placed a hand on his thigh as you leaned towards him, your gaze flicking towards his lips for a brief moment before lifting back to his eyes, which still refused to actually look at you. “Tell me, Sannie, how long did it take you to work up the courage to try and feel me up?”

“I wasn’t-”

“Oh come on.” You rolled your eyes, your hand trailing a bit higher on his thigh as your voice dipped a bit. “You’re already half hard, clearly you were trying to get something out of me.” He squirmed at both your words and your touch, suddenly trying to squeeze his thighs together as he avoided eye contact in favor of staring at your hand, which he felt was far too close to his crotch for him to properly think.

He didn’t get a chance to respond before you spoke up again. “It’s never crossed my mind before, but now that I’m thinking about it, there’s so many things I could do to you, Sannie.” You whispered as you moved your hand away from the swell in his gray sweats and moved to straddle his lap. “What do you think? Should I?” You rolled your hips, grinding against his hard on, and he nodded far too quickly for his liking.

“Please do…” He whispered back, finally meeting your eyes. “Anything you want. ‘M all yours.” You got the feeling he wasn’t just referring to the current moment but you weren’t in any state to be asking for clarification.

You weren’t sure if you were prepared for the ramifications of fucking your best friend but you would have to deal with that later. The ache between your legs required immediate attention. You carded your fingers through his hair before turning your hand into a fist and tugging his head back. Your other hand rested on his neck as you caught his lips in a demanding kiss. The whimper that slipped past his lips went straight to your pussy and you shivered, leaning into his touch when his hands moved to your ass.

He was short circuiting. He was finally getting the chance to touch you and you weren’t pushing him away. In fact, you were the one initiating it. He licked over your bottom lip but you refused him entry, taking the chance to nibble on his lip instead. He gasped against your lips and you smirked, subconsciously tightening your grip on his hair.

“I never pegged you as the submissive type, Sannie.” You teased and he frowned against your lips, clearly pouting. Despite being a switch, he was more dominant than submissive. He was just following your lead because he’d dreamt about this for ages and he didn’t want to get ahead of himself. “Don’t worry, I’ll be nice to you. I’ve been told I’m almost too gentle.”

He whined at your ribbing and you chuckled softly as you pulled back, moving to sit on the floor between his legs. His eyes followed your every movement. You sat on your knees and pushed his oversized tee up a bit to admire his toned stomach before hooking your fingers in the waistband of his sweats. You tugged them down, his now-fully-hard cock springing free and slapping against his belly. “No underwear? Must’ve been real confident things would play out like this, huh?”

“No, actually. I just rarely wear them.” He rolled his eyes and you made a face. He seemed to be getting bolder and you weren’t sure how you felt about that. You were having fun with him. If he decided to take over…well, you doubted that would happen but you might have a brat on your hands.

You didn’t respond, just finished pulling his pants to his ankles, took his dick in your hand, and licked the head. His head tipped back as he let out a surprisingly deep groan and your previous visions came rushing back to you. He looked and sounded just as pretty as you imagined when you took him in your mouth.

“Holy fucking shit, y/n…” He groaned, one hand moving to rest on his belly, holding his shirt up while the other curled into a fist on the sofa. You hummed at his reaction and continued, taking him as far as you could manage. You gagged a little around him and he hissed, his hips jerking a fraction of an inch before he could stop himself. “S-sorry. ‘M sorry, y/n. Didn’t mean to.”

You giggled softly at his apology and he bit his lip, looking down at you. You bobbed your head as your gaze met his and he damn near lost his mind. You looked so pretty with his cock in your mouth. He wanted the image burned in his memory for the rest of his life. Who knew when or if he’d get the chance to do this again?

Given how you responded to his accidentally fucking your face, he decided to experimentally roll his hips. He almost met God when the tip slipped down your throat and you gagged around him, swallowing harshly as you tried but failed to relax your throat. You’d never deepthroated before and it showed as you tried to recover, tears filling your eyes and quickly overflowing to your cheeks. He gently pulled you off and wiped your cheeks, cooing at you as you coughed. “Breathe for me, sugar.” You nodded and took a deep breath, letting him dry your face. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what possessed me to do that. Are you okay?”

You nodded again and offered a small smile. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna go full send and hurt you or-”

“I’m fine, Sannie. I promise.” He finally nodded after a few beats of silence and you tilted your head, eyes narrowing as you studied him for a moment. “Now, what’s with the name? You said it earlier too.”

He looked panicked at first before a grin crept onto his face. “Well, I would call you honey since you’re so sweet, but I feel like that’s a bit overdone, don’t you agree?” You shrugged in agreement and he leaned down, taking your jaw in his hand and jerking you closer. He was a breath away and you were going haywire. “I wonder if your personality is all that’s sweet.”

“What are you saying?” You asked quietly, surprising both of you at just how quickly you’d folded with a single rough touch. So much for him not taking over.

“I wanna taste you, y/n.” He moved to whisper in your ear and your breath hitched. “Every. Single. Inch.” He punctuated his words by kissing and licking up the side of your neck, then biting down softly on your earlobe and drawing out a tiny whimper.

You squeezed your thighs together and closed your eyes for a moment. You grounded yourself with a deep breath before opting to respond by simply tugging at his cock, teasing the head with your thumb. The groan he let out scratched an itch in your brain you never knew existed and his grip on your jaw grew tighter as he inhaled your scent.

“Get up.” You blindly followed his command, standing when he backed away. He didn’t speak as he kicked his pants the rest of the way off and stood with you, hauling you over his shoulder before starting for your room. You squeaked in surprise but didn’t fight, a smile creeping across your face.

You couldn’t stifle the giggle that slipped out when he kissed your side. It shouldn’t have tickled as much as it did.

San had an idea of the things you liked, you’d both talked about your escapades enough, so it came as no surprise to you when he gently placed you on your feet only to grab you by the throat and push you back onto the bed. Still, a thrill ran through your body as you wrapped your hands around his wrist. You sucked in a gasp just before he began to apply pressure to the sides of your throat, your eyes rolling back.

You felt his breath on your face as he leaned down to crash his lips against yours. Your hands left his arm and moved to his shirt, pulling him as close as possible. As he slipped his tongue into your mouth, he slowly relieved the pressure on your throat, allowing blood flow to return to normal and give you a head rush. You moaned into the kiss and wrapped your legs around his waist in a desperate attempt to keep him close when he started to pull away.

“I’ve always wanted to do that…” His voice was a low rumble that made your panties uncomfortably wet. “Always wanted to try everything you mentioned being into. The choking, the biting, the breeding…everything.”

If you weren’t aware of your panties sticking to your folds before, you were after that. “Please do.” You exhaled, trying to pull him back in even as he righted himself between your legs. “All of it. Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” He raised an eyebrow as his hands moved to rest on your hips and you nodded. “Anything?”

“Anything.” You nodded again and bit down on your bottom lip when he rocked his hips, the blunt head of his cock smearing precum across your yoga pants as he rubbed against you. “Please…”

He didn’t speak as his hands slid up your sides, fingers inching under the hem of your hoodie and ghosting over your cool skin. He reached higher still until his hands cupped your breasts. “No bra? Must've been real confident things would play out like this, huh?”

You rolled your eyes and tried not to laugh as the conversation from only a few minutes prior repeated itself. “No, actually. I just rarely wear one.”

“Take it off.” He groaned in response, pushing your hoodie up so your chest was entirely exposed. You sat up, which took a bit of effort given your legs were draped over his thick thighs, and pulled the surprisingly-thin material over your head. He immediately knocked you back and caught your lips in a feverish kiss, propping on one arm while his free hand wandered along your belly.

Your arms wrapped around him, one hand moving to his back while the other tangled in his faded pink locks. He’d dyed his hair magenta a few weeks back and it had since lost its vibrancy - though not before staining a few towels and his pillowcase. You gave his hair a gentle tug and he groaned into your mouth, sending a wave of electricity down your spine.

He began to trail kisses along your jaw and neck as his hand cupped your breast, his thumb swiping back and forth over your nipple. You pushed your chest into his touch, head tipping back as your back arched. Your breath hitched when he brought his kisses to your chest, lips encasing your nipple as his tongue flicked back and forth. “Sannie-” You gasped, your grip on his hair tightening. His hand gave your other breast equal attention, lightly pinching and rolling your nipple before swapping sides.

You couldn’t say you’d ever been curious about what it would be like to sleep with San but you were certain his skills would exceed his reputation if he already had you drenched with minimal effort. You wondered if he could feel the wet patch between your legs, starting to soak through your yoga pants.

He could. He found himself eager to bury his head between your legs despite being determined to take his time with you. He worried he’d disappoint you if he moved too quickly but he still began his descent, peppering sloppy kisses down your belly as his fingers hooked in your waistband. He took your pants and panties both in one go as he moved off the bed. You didn’t miss his sharp inhale.

“Y/N…” Your face flushed red as he knelt between your legs, gaze locked on your glistening cunt. You wanted to tell him not to stare, to urge him along, but you couldn’t seem to break your silence. Finally, you lifted your head and he met your eyes, his own eyes widening in something akin to adoration, though more intense. “Is this all for me, sugar?” There was that name again. You nodded eagerly but he shook his head. “Words.”

You frowned a bit, annoyed that he was making you speak up when he could just take one look at you and know. Of course, you knew he wouldn’t give in so you gave a soft whine before speaking. “Yes, Sannie, it’s all yours.”

You didn’t know why you were so against speaking up. The sound he made the second you did respond made you clench around nothing. He noticed, of course, and let out a low groan as he hooked your legs over his shoulders and kissed your thigh. “May I touch?”

“Please do.” You whispered and caught your lip between your teeth.

He continued to litter your thighs with messy kisses and soft bites as his fingertips teased their way up to your pussy, never once breaking eye contact. Your head fell back to the sheets as soon as you felt him run a finger through your folds, gathering up some of your arousal. He moved torturously slowly, rubbing feather-light circles on your clit before easing one digit into you.

“You’re drenched, baby…” His voice, though painfully sexy, was full of wonder and amusement.

“Your fault…” You mumbled and he chuckled softly.

One finger wasn’t enough. You needed more. He could tell and you felt him smirk against your skin as he curled his finger. You let out a soft sigh at the action but he wasn’t satisfied and so he added another finger, and another when you still didn’t give him the response he wanted.

“Fuck this cunt’s gonna feel so good-” He sighed.

Now three fingers deep, he began his search for your g-spot. It didn’t take him very long if your embarrassingly loud moan was anything to go by. “So fucking pretty, baby.” He groaned, suppressing another sound when you clenched around his fingers. “You like it when I call you pretty? Or was it ‘baby’?” He teased.

“Both.” It was all you could muster as he leaned in and flicked his tongue over your clit. You immediately brought a hand up to your mouth to stifle your sounds but he pulled back and nipped at your thigh.

“Let me hear.” At that point, you had no fight left in you. You just wanted him to touch you and you’d do anything to get your way. You gave a nod, a small ‘okay’ slipping from your lips, and he slowly leaned back in, lips closing around your clit. He sucked and you let out a soft curse, bringing your hands to your chest to knead at the soft flesh of your breasts. He groaned in appreciation and set a slow pace, working you up with his fingers while his tongue traced different shapes over your clit.

You suddenly felt ridiculous for never having wondered if he truly lived up to his reputation. He was proving to you just how good he was and you were cursing yourself for never having thought about having his head between your legs. “Sannie- oh-” You keened, one hand flying to tangle in his hair once more as he pressed against your g-spot at the same time as he sucked on your clit. You wouldn’t last long like this. He was too good.

Your toes curled as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, his tongue dipping into you occasionally in place of his fingers. Your muscles ached with the tension that was building but you knew you wouldn’t be relaxed until he made you cum. Hoping to encourage him to get you off faster so he’d fuck you, you began babbling praises, only inflating his ego.

He made sure you felt his appreciative groan before pulling back for a quick breath then diving back in, tongue flicking with vigor. His cock throbbed as he inhaled your scent and his eyes rolled back briefly. He wanted more of you. All of you. So when you announced you were close, he backed away entirely and smirked. “Not yet, baby.”

“Sannie, what the fuck?” You whined indignantly, lifting your head when he sat up between your legs.

“Decided I want you to cum on my cock instead.” He shrugged, moving up the bed to catch your lips in a kiss. You were surprised by how sweet the kiss was considering how feral he’d just been acting over your pussy but you welcomed it, tugging him closer with a soft groan as you tasted yourself.

“So fuck me then.” You whispered between kisses, lapping your juices off his lips a moment later. The whole scenario was filthy and intoxicating.

“You mean like this?” He grunted as he slid into you with ease. Your jaw dropped and you gasped at the stretch. He fit perfectly, like you were made for each other - a thought that both terrified and intrigued you. He wasted no time in setting a slow, deep pace, each thrust driving you up the bed with the force.

“Just like that, Sannie.” You nodded furiously, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders while your other hand twisted the sheets by your head.

San was on another planet. He finally had you. You, the girl of his dreams ever since he was fifteen. He was finally fully sheathed inside your warmth and he never wanted to leave. He’d give anything to stay with you.

He hadn’t intended to babble that out loud and realized his error when you responded.

“Yeah? Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Then fuck me harder and treat me like the most precious thing you’ve ever held.”

It was an easy ask. He had no problem cherishing you. Even as his hips began to snap harder and faster, the sound of skin slapping filling the room, he showered you with kisses and words of adoration. “So fucking good, baby. Do you have any clue how long I’ve wanted to feel this perfect little pussy? To make you fall apart on my cock?”

“Tell me, Sannie. Tell me how long you’ve wanted me.”

“God- ever since we were in school. It was so hot the way you fucked her up for hurting me and I’ve wanted you ever since.” His admission sent a thrill rushing through you and you clenched involuntarily, earning a low groan from him.

“And you held it together for that long? Fuck, Sannie, you- oh-” The tip of his cock just barely kissed your cervix but it was enough to make your thighs squeeze his hips.

“Shit, baby, you keep that up and I’ll cum…”

“Then keep fucking me just like that.” You demanded, back arching as he dipped his head down to lick and suck on your chest. He caught your nipple in his mouth and allowed his teeth to graze the stiff peak, grunting against your skin when your walls fluttered in response. “Want you to cum inside as many times as you can until you make me cum.” It wasn’t a demand or a plea, it was just a simple fact but he was eager to comply with your wishes.

“Christ, y/n, you’re killing me…” San groaned, resting his forehead on your chest as his hips pistoned relentlessly. He pulled back just enough to look up at you and you could tell by his expression just how close he was. “You really want that? Want me to breed you like a good little cocksleeve and keep filling you up over and over until you fall apart for me?”

Your nod and whimper were the only convincing he needed. He let go instantly, stars dancing behind his eyes as he pumped you full of cum. This was all he’d wanted for the better part of a decade and he was on cloud nine over finally getting you.

He briefly pulled out and flipped you over, taking a moment to watch a bead of cum drip down your folds before he slammed back into you. He might regret this later given how sensitive he was but he needed to give you anything you asked for.

Your back arched as he hit your sweet spot and you let out a soft cry. “There! Just like that!”

It didn’t take long before he felt another orgasm building. He warned you and you demanded he continue, begging him to give it to you. His cock twitched and he let go at your behest, filling you all over again.

Before he was finished, he reached around to roll your clit between his thumb and forefinger. He delighted in the squeal you let out and did it again, tears welling in his eyes from all the sensation.

“Oh god, Sannie, I’m so close!” You cried, your thighs trembling as your orgasm threatened to wash over you.

“Cum for me, sugar.” His voice was a low rumble in your ear, hoarse with unshed tears, and you couldn’t hold back. You let out another squeal as he toyed with your clit, tipping you over the edge. Your high hit you like a bus and you let out a sob of ecstasy as your pussy clamped down on San’s leaking cock.

You felt a tear fall on your back and gently pushed him back, forcing yourself to roll over. “You okay?” You asked softly as you pulled him to you, still buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“‘M fucking perfect.” He offered a lazy smile as he leaned down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.

“Mm then what’s this?” You teased as you pulled back, wiping a tear from his cheek.

“Proof that I’ve met my match.” He chuckled softly and wiped his face dry. “Seriously, that was…fucking amazing.”

“It was. Can someone explain to me why we didn’t do this sooner?”

“Who knows.” He shrugged and flopped down beside you, then pulled you to lay on top of him. “But I say we do this every weekend, sugar.” He laughed deeply when you swatted his chest in response but deep down you knew this was more than a one time occurrence.

[qlossytbh]

𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞? - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 where you find yourself with immense baby fever

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 baby fever, fem!reader, fluff fluff fluff, established relationship, reader and spencer are married, hotch x platonic!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 1.5k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫�� 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 so i imagined older spence but younger jack so pretend jack is around 3 or 4 but spence is like around season 7/8 (?)

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“All I’m saying, you could’ve been a little nicer,” You turned to Morgan with a rigid sigh. If he didn’t know you better, it’d probably sound like you were deeply annoyed with him, on the verge of cursing him out. He knew you were only regarding the events of today's case.

“I think you’re mixing ‘being nicer’ with tough love,” You deadpanned at your friend, earning nothing but his signature snicker.

You shook your head, feigning that of disappointment. You rolled your shoulder back, craning your neck slightly to scan the files that rested between your fingers. God, how many files could one see in a day?

It was a few hours past midday when the case came to an end. Hotch had a sudden dilemma that he needed immediate solving, so he told all of you to make it back to headquarters. You and Morgan however, had been stuck together for the day and made it back a lot earlier than the rest of the team, prompting the two of you to get some necessary paperwork done.

You needed a day off— especially from Morgan.

The bullpens doors opened unexpectedly, drawing you and Derek out of your conversation. You turned, seeing the rest of the team waltz through the glass door— only this time, they were accompanied by a pair of small legs.

You couldn’t stop a reflexive smile from growing onto your face. “Is that who I think it is?”

Jack waddled into the bullpen, one of his tiny fists bundled up onto a small section of Hotch’s dress pants. You could’ve screamed, a reaction that was becoming more necessary every time you saw a kid, and most definitely when you saw Jack.

At the sound of your cheery voice, Jack looked up, biting onto his knuckles— something you learned was a sign of his bashfulness.

But when he realized it was you who was standing next to Morgan, his face immediately morphed into one that could only portray pure and innocent child joy, looking as if he couldn’t be happier to see you. Nothing could compare to how ecstatic that made you feel, chest getting fuzzy with endearment. Hotch placed his palm onto the back of his head. “Look who it is!”

You've taken care of Jack too many times you lost count, given since you and Hotch were close— practically family. You adored Jack and found yourself being struck with some newfound motherly instinct when it came to him— or any kid for that matter. He always gave you this very violent need to squeeze his cheeks and hug him so tight he might pop.

“Is that little Jackie?” Your voice was high and welcoming, trying to hide how utterly joyed you were with seeing him and failing miserably. Jack immediately pushed himself off of Hotch’s leg and began running towards you.

Well, he more so waddled his way over to you, small feet pattering roughly against the floor as he ran over to you in an unstable line. You met him halfway, crouching down and opening your arms for him. When he was close enough, he launched himself into said arms, voice loud with giggles and shrieks. “If it isn’t my favorite boy!”

You squeezed him tightly, rising once again to your natural height and hugging the small toddler. Morgan, of course, didn’t miss a beat to taunt. “Careful, Reid’s listening.”

“Oh please,” You rested Jack on your hip, keeping strong secure arms around him while he gripped the ends of your hair curiously. “Spencer knows that Jack comes first no matter what, isn’t that right Jack?”

“Yeah!” He laughed.

Spencer couldn’t keep in a single thought as he watched you interact with Jack so naturally. It twisted his chest in weird, scary ways. If it were anyone else he’d be terrified. But it was you. And he now found his head lingering with the idea of you as a mother— the mother of his children, specifically.

It was a conversation the two of you had once, very briefly a few months after you two got married. Spencer had been meaning to get back at it, but with the chaos of your jobs it had been really hard to think about anything other than serial killer and criminals.

But fuck, if Spencer said that seeing you interact so carefully and sweetly with not only Jack but many other children that had stumbled up on these last few cases— he’d be the biggest liar on the face of this earth.

Just the thought of starting a family with you was something that filled him with anticipation. It made his chest burn. Something he craved so deeply, it sometimes left him breathless.

“You’re getting so big and strong that I’m beginning to have a hard time lifting you up.” You huffed, setting him down onto the ground and crouching beside him. “You’re gonna give me back problems.”

“Derek says it’s because you’re getting weak!” His R’s were disguised as muffles W’s, which only caused your heart to clench further. A choke disguised as a strained laugh left your mouth.

“Is that so?” You turned over to him with a glare. Morgan scratched the back of his head and turned on his heel avoiding you and your piercing gaze.

“But who’s your favorite; big old chiseled Derek, or little weak me?” You squint your eyes at the boy, pursing your lips feeling very confident in his answer.

And to no one’s surprise did Jack point towards you and with a huge, wide smile laughed out. “You!”

You laughed victoriously, holding out a palm for Jack to clap. “Yeah, that’s right!”

“Oh, come on,” Morgan groaned.

After one last hug from the child, you ushered Jack over to Hotch, shooting an endeared smile towards him. God, you loved that kid so much.

JJ, Prentiss and Rossi made their way to the conference room. You look ahead, meeting the gaze of your husband and smiling profusely. It was a subconscious reaction your body had. You found yourself meeting Spencer halfway. “Hey,”

His hand rested on your hip as he leaned down, kissing you chastly. Spencer would’ve loved to actually take his time greeting you with a much proper kiss, but it was a middle ground the two of you found between professionalism and well— being married.

His hand, however, remained on the spot on your hip, thumb drawing circles instinctively. It was subtle, but his touch was still there. Your smile was big and lovestruck, looking up at him with soft eyes. “Hey,”

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, Jack's laughter ripped through the air as Hotch lifted him up. You and Spencer turned and you swear you could almost cry.

It was as if lately, when you allowed yourself to think even slightly about the concept of children you’d combust into a pool of tears and overbearing endearment. Spencer watched you looking over at Jack and noticed something pooling beneath your eyes.

You looked back at Spencer, lips tied in a pout. “I want one.”

“A baby?” He tuned, laughing slightly at how your body sunk against his, resting your forehead on his chest in exasperation.

“Yes,” You pushed yourself off his chest, throwing your hands around as you spoke. “The small hands, small feet— I swear everytime I see a baby, I get violent.”

You pouted. “Imagine a mini us Spence,”

And Spencer did. He thought about it in such detail that he forgot it wasn’t an actual reality of his. A little girl or boy, that resembled either of you, that held so many fractions and traits of the two of you— it seemed unreal to him.

“A mini us?” He repeated. You looked up at him.

“Well— yeah,” You reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean, we haven’t really talked about it but..”

Spencer wanted kids more than he had ever wanted anything before— but he knew that he only wanted it if it was with you. He couldn’t phantom the thought of starting a family with anyone else.

“We should,” He spoke. Your fingers played mindlessly with the bottom of his tie, looking up at him with a teasing smirk.

“We should talk about it or we should try?” A blush crept up his cheeks as his eyes widened just slightly. You always found ways to catch him off guard and you loved getting even the slightest reaction out of him.

“Uh—“ He dragged out his words, before his eyes landed back on you. “Both?”

You laughed and he smiled. He always smiled when you laughed, he couldn’t stop himself from doing so. You reached down, tangling your fingers with his. “I’m serious though,”

He hummed. “So am I.”

“You actually want to start trying for a baby?” This seemed like a conversation that was far too intimate to be having in the middle of the bullpen— where you usually discussed varieties of atrocious things, but here you were I guess.

“Yeah,” He said, almost in disbelief that you had questioned it. You found yourself growing oddly shy, just thinking of a small version of the two of you running around.

Before you could continue on the subject, Morgan, who now held Jack on his shoulders, was calling you and Spencer over to the conference room. You turned to Spencer, smiling softly.

“Can we get back to this once we get home?”

“Please,” He breathed, leaning forward and pressing a longer kiss onto your lips. You grew giddy and smiled into the kiss, pulling away sooner than both of you would like.

“I love you,” You smiled. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and placed a loving kiss on your forehead.

“I love you.”

[vanesycho]

kinktober day 15 [car sex]

|masterlist|

warning:smut, p in v, unprotected sex, riding

wc:1,1k

You watched Joshua as he finished his performance and came backstage. When the other members came in, you congratulated them all one by one, but your mind was still on your boyfriend. Normally, you had the chance to see his stage so closely many times, but today was different, more than usual...hot? His mood change during the performance, his serious facial expression, the way he licked his lips...It made you shiver.

As soon as Joshua noticed you backstage, a smile appeared on his face, he approached you and pulled you by the waist and hugged you tightly. "Was I good?" he whispered in your ear, you smiled, when you pulled back, you whispered the same against his lips "You were better than good...God, I had a hard time not jumping on the stage." he let out a chuckle, approached you and kissed you on the lips "I'm glad you liked it, my love." he held your waist tightly and squeezed it lightly and soon left the room to change.

Now you were in the car to go back home, he hadn’t missed the fact that you occasionally glanced at him and examined his side profile, he held himself back from laughing “I can’t focus on the road if you look at me like that, babe.” You turned to the front with embarrassment, you had unknowingly examined him too much but you couldn’t help it. The images of the scene that had come to your mind were constantly replaying. Joshua glanced at you briefly and then turned back to the road “What are you thinking? Tell me." He stopped at a red light, turned his full attention to you, he realized that you were avoiding answering, put his hand on your leg, you swallowed when his thumb started to caress your skin “Yeah?” Knowing that there was nowhere to run, you just gave in “I was just…I was thinking about how good you looked on stage. I mean, I already know you looked good but- today..You were so hot.” Joshua threw his head back and laughed. He didn’t know he had this effect on you but he honestly liked knowing it, he leaned in close and placed a small kiss on your neck “I like knowing you see me like this.” His deep voice made you shiver, he pulled back as if nothing had happened and continued on his way with the green light on. A slight smile appeared on Joshua’s face as he continued on his way, turning the car into a deserted alleyway, you frowned upon noticing this. “Are we taking a different route?” Joshua pulled over without answering and turned off the lights. Only the moonlight illuminated the interior of the car in the backstreet where not even the streetlights worked properly. He turned to you, gently placed his hand on your cheek, his other hand went back to your leg and squeezed it lightly. “If you look this affected after every performance..” he whispered, his eyes shifting from your eyes to your lips, he let out a breath, leaning in closer but not kissing you yet, just letting your lips brush against each other. “...We should have some fun off stage to celebrate this, right? Don’t you think your boyfriend is doing a good job? I think you should reward him.” Even before his lips had made contact with yours, he was driving you crazy, his thumb caressed your cheek, the slight smile on his face didn’t leave. “What kind of reward?” he hummed, pretending to think for a moment, then pulled back and unlocked the car door. “Get in the backseat.”

That was all he said and soon you found yourself in his lap in the backseat. Joshua leaned his head back and watched you while you continued to rub yourself against him. You moaned as his swollen cock made contact with your pussy, he tightened his grip on your waist "Shua.. Please, I want you.." you spoke needily, Joshua leaned closer and started to kiss your neck "I know darling, don't worry I'll make you feel good." You felt his cock inside you in no time, a loud moan filled the car. Your hips slowly moved down, trying to take it all in "Too m-much.." He grabbed your hips and made you sit on top of him, kissed your lips to quiet your voice, his tongue roaming around in your mouth as he waited for you to get used to it. He pulled back with a loud kiss "Are you okay?" he whispered against your lips, you nodded "Good. Now I need you to move those beautiful hips of yours darling."

You did as he said, your hips started to move on his hard cock, Joshua threw his head back in pleasure, his mouth taking in slightly spaced breaths, your pussy clenching around him and he loved the feeling so much, "You're so good baby- oh fuck you're gonna make me come early." You held onto his shoulders tightly, his hand not hesitating to roam all over your body. He looked at you, brushed your hair behind your ear and exposed your face, even though he couldn't see much in the dark, he knew exactly how good you looked riding him and that was a sight for him to see. His hand slowly moved from your neck to your breast, squeezing it gently, lingering on your nipples for a while. He pulled you by the waist and made you come closer to him. You felt his tongue on your nipple, he ran the tip of his tongue around it, sucking on your breast while his other hand worked on your other breast. He lightly bit your erect nipple, smiling when he heard your tiny whimper.

Your hip movements started to speed up after a while, Joshua's occasional whimpers and the sounds of your bodies merging drove you even wilder. You let out a whimpering sound as his cock hits your pleasure point, his hands returning to your hips and supporting you. He helped you move on him easily. The pleasure grew inside you, Joshua knew he was close too, your pussy clenching around him making him moan deeply. He smiled to himself and threw his head back again. “Ah- you always feel so good- and tight..I- fuck, I’m so close.” He swallowed hard, watching his twitching Adam’s apple, making you wet your lips. You couldn’t hold back any longer as each stroke brought new pleasure, you came in no time, your juices flowing down his cock, you pulled back and soon Joshua’s juices were flowing down his belly. He looked at you tiredly and let you rest on his chest before moving on. He kissed the top of your head. “I think you should reward me like this after every concert.”

[fangswbenefits]

Fever

Summary: You're running a fever and Astarion offers to cool you down… only to make things a whole lot worse.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Dry humping. Vampire bite and blood sucking. Precum and cum. Skin to skin contact with the purpose of thermoregulation that ends up getting out of hand. Inappropriate use of tadpole. Banter.

Word count: 3k

A mind-numbing chilling shiver tore throughout your entire body, causing your muscles to contract involuntarily in a desperate attempt to keep yourself warm.

The bonfire crackled vigorously, emanating a welcome wave of heat, as you embraced the blanket around you, keeping both knees tightly close to your chest.

"You can't possibly be cold."

Astarion.

Great.

You lowered your quivering chin to rest on your forearm, definitely not in the mood - or mental capacity - to voice out a proper reply.

"It's blazing hot tonight," he continued, entering your narrowed field of vision. "Hello? I'm talking to you."

Nodding, you hugged yourself tighter.

He scoffed. "What is the matter with you? Oh, do not tell me you're turning into a mindflayer… what a nuisance."

Astarion and his eternal aptitude for inconvenient remarks.

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what was to come. "I think I'm running a fever."

Astarion lowered himself to eye-level with you, his body close enough for you to make out the swirling flames of the bonfire dancing in his crimson eyes.

"So what? Drink a healing potion."

You inwardly cussed, pressing your forehead firmly against your arm with an exasperated sigh, effectively hiding from his burning gaze.

Clearly, your silence paired with the deflecting physical reaction was enough for him to draw a conclusion.

"You don't have any."

Silence.

"What have you done with our potions?" His voice immediately shifted into an accusatory hiss.

Another shiver. 

This time, you mustered the strength to look him in the eye. "Some passers-by were injured by thieves and asked for help… so… I…" your voice faltered as you struggled to keep your thoughts straight.

He was already pinching the bridge of his nose, his face twisting into a deep scowl. "So you gave them all of our potions?!"

You shrugged with a faint smile and Astarion went ballistic.

"Why must you carry this deathwish around? And why must you drag me along with you?" He growled dramatically. "Why didn’t you just ignore them? Or – I don't know – not give them anything?"

You matched his frown. "They were severely injured. They would have perished from their wounds."

He threw both arms up in exasperation as he raised to his feet at once.

"Well, better them than me – or you, for that matter," he added, both hands on his hips. "You're far too precious to be killed, darling."

How could you forget?

And he was right… to an extent.

You chose silence.

It was a very effective way to handle Astarion whenever he went on a rambling spree.

"When is Shadowheart returning with Gale?"

"Soon. I hope."

He groaned in response. "You're actually fortunate I'm so resourceful."

Your head turned to him and you watched as he strolled away, disappearing into his tent. 

A jab of realisation hit you all of a sudden, as you vaguely recalled rummaging through his belongings earlier on when he left to hunt an animal to feed on.

Fuck.

You winced.

"Where are my healing potions?"

Your eyes dropped close and your teeth clattered.

Angry footsteps drew near at lightning speed. "You stole from me?!"

You shrugged. "You steal from everyone."

He then crouched down again, eyes narrowing dangerously. "I steal for us –  the collective good!"

You did scoff this time. "Then why were you hiding them away?"

"Call it safekeeping. Although I was careless enough to teach you lockpicking, wasn't I?”

A firm hand came to grip your forearm, but you flinched away. “It's fine. I'll be fine.”

He glared at you in silence as if your reply had snapped him out of his tantrum.

There was no point in arguing with him, as he was known to have low tolerance for unexpected predicaments.

But even through your feverish haze, you could see he was no longer pursuing an argument.

After all, his bond to you was built on meeting halfway, even when disagreements occurred.

“On your feet, darling,” he said, extending his hand to you as rose to his full height.

You grabbed it and pushed yourself upwars, nearly losing your footing. Luckily, Astarion was agile enough for both of you, and he quickly steadied you with both hands firmly gripping your shoulders.

“There you go,” he said almost lovingly. “Let's take care of that.”

You nodded tiredly as he wrapped an arm around you, guiding you into his tent.

“Sorry for the potions.”

He chuckled lightly. “I guess it can't be helped with that bleeding heart of yours.”

You didn’t even try refuting his remark. He was absolutely right. But still, you didn't regret having helped those people. 

And now you were stuck in this predicament until Shadowheart returned.

It could be worse… at least you weren't alone.

The shivers were only getting more intense and you watched as Astarion suddenly pulled his shirt off in one swift move.

Instantly, your jaw dropped. “What – Astarion?”

He eyed you with sheet amusement. “Darling, I swear this is not what it looks like.”

Frankly, you weren't even sure if this wasn't just your mind playing tricks on you.

Why would he even remove his shirt in the first place?

“Considering our current situation, this is the best course of action. Skin-to-skin. I'm cold enough to drop your temperature.”

Your eyes widened.

Oh?

He tossed the shirt to the side and moved to stand closer to you. “Let me help you out of your clothes.”

Under different circumstances, this would have been a welcome exchange, but this particular scenario didn't make room for any of those thoughts.

So, you merely stood still as he tugged at your own shirt, undoing each button, hands traveling down your torso.

A wave of coldness took over as your skin met the uncomfortable night breeze. 

“It's too cold… Astarion…” you said in between clattering teeth.

He shoved the fabric off your shoulders and down your arms, eyes always holding yours. 

You felt your nipples harden, but none of that seemed to matter. He had seen you naked many times and you felt comfortable around him.

But you also felt ill. 

And no amount of loving stares could ease the way your body spasmed uncontrollably near his. 

“You're burning up,” he said, as he pressed the back of his cold hand to your forehead.

His touch brought immediate relief and you leaned into it, earning a soft caress as his hand trailed down.

As if disconnected from your mind, your body moved on its own accord, closing the gap that separated you from Astarion, and you gasped as his chest came into contact with yours.

The difference in temperature was so stark, that even Astarion flinched momentarily before his arms closed around you.

A gentle tug inside your head made you wince.

The tadpole.

It was trying to connect with his.

It often happened in moments of intimacy when both of you allowed that door to open.

But now was not the time or moment, and you forced yourself to repress it.

Your chin met his shoulder and you eased into him until you could feel the shivers begin to subside.

You weren't sure how long it took for your body's temperature to drop, but what you did know was that you could tear yourself away from him.

Astarion's cool skin came as the relief you were seeking, and you allowed yourself to let out a shaky breath as you clung onto him.

“I've got you.”

His voice was low and tender and your racing heart skipped a bit.

Even standing, you felt as though you could drift off into a slumber at any moment.

More time passed.

More silence.

More comfort.

And the worm squirmed again.

You promptly ignored it.

Astarion shifted against you and you sighed blissfully, resting your cheek on his shoulder, eyelids dropping.

Another tug and you frowned.

What was happening?

The tadpole rattled almost violently and you allowed yourself to let go.

As soon as you felt it reach Astarion's, you gasped and your eyes flew open.

You could faintly feel pulsating waves of pleasure through the tadpole.

His mind laced with yours and that was when you felt a growing pressure in your lower half.

Not now. Not now. Gods.

His voice echoed inside your head in a never-ending plea.

He sounded desperate.

And he felt… hard.

Positively aroused.

Think of Withers. Think of Volo and his abysmal outfits.

That wasn’t exactly the mental images you would have preferred in this moment, but it was quite clear that he sought a distraction.

You shuddered into him and he let out a low groan in response.

Was he aware that you could hear his thoughts? Did he even care?

Your tadpole vibrated evenly and his yearn for friction became yours.

Astarion… what are you doing?

He jolted under your touch, but didn't utter a single word out loud.

Instead, he focused on caressing your naked back with gentle fingers.

You're inside my head when I crave to be inside you.

His bluntness was enough to cause your body to react.

The fever had been broken, but the heat refused to leave.

Maybe we should pull away.

He let out a chuckle that rumbled in his chest.

You're still quite warm, darling.

Your tadpole held on to his viciously, and it was quite evident that the connection wasn't going to be easily severed.

Not when you could now feel how hard his cock was for you.

Inside your mind.

It was as if you were experiencing everything happening in his body.

The gentle throbbing in his lower half was now your own, too.

You can feel it, can't you?

He was almost purring through his tadpole and you tried to find words, but his hard cock was too distracting.

You had often wondered how an erection would feel like for a man.

Now you had your answer.

And it felt almost… urgent.

I never felt this before…

His cock twitched and you felt all of it.

I suppose we never allowed it ourselves, darling.

Your hands locked behind his back, but you struggled to keep your fingers from slipping as sweat gathered along your skin.

As expected, the stimulus was enough to stir your clit, earning another chuckle from him.

Oh, I can feel it swelling up…

You clenched.

It didn't take long for wetness to pool in your underwear.

The two of you were still very much covered from the waist down.

It was almost painful how restricted his cock was against the fabric of his trousers.

Now you know how it feels when you get me hard.

Instinctively, you began to grind against him, seeking that delicious friction that only he could provide.

Or maybe we should save this for a more suitable moment.

His suggestion caused you to bite your lip to muffle a groan of disapproval.

We can just stay like this… for a while.

He hardened even more and you were beginning to feel conflicted on what to focus on: his cock or your clit.

You can focus on both, sweetheart. 

You clenched again.

His hands dropped to your waist and he pulled your hips harder against his.

Gods… this hurts… 

It truly hurt to feel his cock restrained like that, leaking precum as he kept a steady pace.

You could feel how soaked he was getting.

Does your clit always feel this good grinding against me?

Your arms looped around his neck for support, because you didn't think you had it in you to withstand the unexpected duplication of pleasure. 

How are you getting harder?

This time, he groaned in response, angling his hips so you could also physically feel how hard his cock was.

Another clench was all it took for him to move his lips to your neck, fangs grazing your skin.

Would you clench harder if I bit you?

You shuddered, bucking your hips as if they were Astarion's. Now you knew how it felt whenever he began to grind against you.

Astarion… you get harder when you bite me, don't you?

He growled before his lips latched on to you, suckling gently.

Do you want to feel my cock getting harder from your blood?

Maybe you should postpone this endeavour. Even if the fever was no longer an issue, maybe it was better to wait out whatever had caused it.

But he was also waiting on you, his fangs eager to break skin and sink into you.

Logic was replaced with arousal and you nodded.

Please…

Astarion didn't need to be told twice, and you let out a pained yelp, as he tore through the barrier and found his target.

With the first gulp of his blood, you felt your mouth drop open, and not because of pain or discomfort.

No.

You could feel your blood coursing through his body, rapidly shooting downwards and filling his cock with each passing second.

The pleasure was nigh unbearable and you kept on grinding against him, desperate for the friction.

He lifted one of your legs to grant him better access and as soon as he found a sweet spot, he began thrusting as if there were no clothes in the way.

You kept clenching around nothing, squeezing out more of your wetness whilst being able to feel just how drenched he was for you.

With each roll of his hips, you felt more and more precum leaking.

The upside to having this tadpole connection was that you got to hear his voice even when his mouth was busy.

Your walls began to squeeze, yearning for his cock.

Darling, you feel so tight.

His cock was gradually getting warmer from your blood and his balls were getting tighter.

He was close.

He was inside your head and he was dangerously close.

I can feel your clit. You're close, too.

You expected to feel lightheaded from him feeding on you, but it was as if his vigour was now yours.

Your body refused to wither as you remained linked to his.

Dampness was seeping through your crotch as he humped more eagerly than ever.

The temptation to just undo his trousers and let him sink inside you was 

I need to be inside you.

It wasn’t a request.

He was begging.

But your ears caught the distant sound of voices nearing the tent.

Astarion. Someone is coming….

He growled, pulling away from your neck and capturing your lips with his blood-stained ones.

You tasted metal on your tongue.

I'm close… 

And so were you.

It was probably a mixture of the thrill of getting caught and how delicious his thick cock felt from being pumped up with your blood.

It was overwhelming.

Your mind was not even focusing on your swollen clit.

You just wanted his cock to find release.

And it was a shared sentiment, because Astarion kept on praising how drenched you were for him and how much you were throbbing.

He could feel your clit the same way you could feel his cock.

It was as if the two of you had swapped places and were both desperate to reach the climatic release.

The voices were getting closer and your grip tightened around his neck, his tongue tracing your lower lip before he began suckling in it.

It was an effective way to muffle his moans.

Clench again… 

Your body obeyed his words and you clenched in frustration, wishing you could drive his cock inside you and empty his balls.

By this point, you were able to make out Shadowheart’s voice.

Quick…

He kept on grinding and you felt his balls tighten even more as he neared the edge of the precipice, his cock twitching and throbbing as he toppled over.

“Gods!” you almost yelled.

Astarion grunted in between gasps.

Shock and unfathomable pleasure entwined as you felt the first strings of cum shoot from his cock, pooling around it as it remained enclosed in his soaked underwear.

His pleasure was your own.

Literally.

Your mind blanked and your hips moved on their own as if you were the one thrusting his cock, mouth agape and heart almost leaping from your chest in sheer bewilderment.

You're almost there…

His words rang inside your head but he now knew better than yourself how close you were and you simply let go as his warm cum began seeping through his trousers.

So much cum… 

Another voice was heard nearby and it catapulted you into your own bodily climax.

And this time, Astarion groaned harder than before as he felt your rhythmic contractions flutter throughout your walls. 

“Gods… this–”

Astarion was stunned into silence, having to bite down on your shoulder to keep himself from being too loud as your orgasm tore across his own body.

You felt the contractions.

You felt your clit pulsating in unison with your heartbeat.

But your pleasure was his.

You pressed a hand on the back of his neck, cradling him as he rode out your climax.

Your tadpole squirmed tiredly and you figured you had overstayed your welcome with this sudden and intense connection.

Just as quickly as it had occurred, the link was severed at once and there was a sudden quiet in your head.

Astarion slumped slightly against you, dropping your leg and face buried in the crook of your neck.

“That was…”

Your uneven breathing held you back for a moment. “... amazing?”

He pulled away and your vision cleared with a few blinks only to see your blood smeared across his lips and chin.

“Unexpected, I reckon.”

From outside his tent, you heard someone clear their throat.

“Why am I not surprised that they're in their tent again?”

“Ah, Shadowheart. Young love tends to be lively and intense.” Gale tried to reason.

A pause.

“Well, they could try to be quieter about it, then.” 

You glanced down to find the front of his trousers, realising just how much of his cum had spilled from the waistband.

“Are you still feeling feverish?” he asked, capturing your chin in between his fingers to tilt your head up, so that your eyes could meet his.

You shook your head.

“Are you still upset about the potions?”

He rolled his eyes. “I am upset that it took us this long to take full advantage of these blasted worms.”

Masterlist

[machveil]

Hmm… Loser!Simon 🤔 Have you done anything on him with a short!reader? (I’m 5’1.75”🤭)

babe, wake up, I posted something

Loser!Simon Riley adores how short you are, absolutely dwarfed by him. he didn’t really know how to physically handle you when you first started dating. Simon is used to used being rough and tough - parading around as Ghost and manhandling other soldiers, bruising his knuckles while hitting a punching bag. you? you’re a little thing compared to him!

Loser!Simon Riley who’s afraid to touch you at first. he didn’t want to grab you too hard, tighten his grip uncomfortably around you - he settles for minimal, extremely light contact. when you hold hands? his is nearly limp, just barely making his hand stay intertwined with yours. cuddling? Simon lets you cozy up to him while he lays stiff as a board, one arm awkwardly wrapped around your waist

Loser!Simon Riley that gets more comfortable about touching you. he realizes you won’t break, won’t shatter beneath him, when he wakes up one morning. he had rolled half on top of you in his sleep and you just laughed it off, said he made a good weighted blanket. that made him feel better, suddenly he’s completely enamored with touching you. he doesn’t purposely hold you too hard, but he can use some of his strenght to squeeze you when you hug, sets his palms on your hips to gently move you when he needs something

Loser!Simon Riley that can’t help but stare at the top of your head. you catch him frequently, eyes dazed and lost in thought as he looks at you. in the kitchen, your bedroom, in public - he just follows closely behind you, zoned out for a moment before glancing around. you don’t really think much of it, Simon has his quirks and you figured this was just one of them. well, until you hear him drunkenly mumble to himself at a pub, looking at you with those same dazed, smitten eyes, “Tiny thing, could prob’ly bench you.”

CW: size difference (spoiler alert, too fucking big!!), thigh fucking

Loser!Simon who’s big, there’s no denying that his height and weight alone are nothing to scoff at. his muscles are another contributor, well trained and made for combat, a healthy layer of fat bulking him up even more. in bed he’s no different, but in the heat of the moment Simon wishes he wasn’t so massive. maybe you’ll both work your way up someday, fight through Simon’s impatience, but today’s not the day. he doesn’t fit, the stretch of him trying to slip into you is too much. even with copious amounts of prep and lube, Simon can’t stomach the way you hiss and grip the sheets

Loser!Simon Riley that thinks one day, god, one day, he’d find himself fucking into you instead of against your thighs. it feels good all the same, his hand working you towards your release as he hopelessly ruts between your plush thighs, his free arm holding your legs together for him. he wishes he wasn’t so damn big, eyes glued to where his tip disappears and reappears between your legs, smearing your skin with his pre. he’s tried to nudge his way into you, nearly orgasming when his head bullies its way into you - but ultimately pulling out because he feels bad seeing your eyes tear up

[babyleostuff]

jealousy, jealousy | choi seungcheol

fluff (+ a bit of angst) 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!cheol x gn!reader 𐙚 wc: 1.1k

. . . seungcheol getting jealous of a fictional character

��cheol, it’s just a fictional character,” you sighed, trying to explain for the tenth time since you got out of the movie theatre that, yes - the main lead was hot, but no - you wouldn’t ever leave seungcheol for him.

sometimes you wondered if he was turning thirty or ten next year. 

you didn’t mean to be all heart eyes at the movies, but it wasn’t your fault the main lead was good looking, not that it even mattered - seungcheol had his celebrity crushes too, but you didn’t go around and whine about it. “you know it doesn’t mean anything, baby,” reaching over, you ran your fingers through his hair, like you always did whenever he was stressed or anxious, turning him into a puddle in your arms in a second.

“mhm,” your boyfriend mumbled, and gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter, not sparing you a single glance. you sighed and dropped your hand. 

any other time you’d find this situation quite amusing - cheol jealous of a fictional character you happened to gush over, if not for the fact that you knew exactly how this would end.

with a silent treatment and an extremely pouty boyfriend.

normally you found that side of him very endearing, but dealing with a jealous coups was not an easy task, partially because your boyfriend happened to be one of the most stubborn people in the world.

now it was him and his pout against the world.  

“you know i love you,” you said, and turned your body away from him towards the window. 

if he was going to act like a child, then so be it.

“i’m a fucking idiot” seungcheol grumbled to himself, pulling his shirt over his head with a bit too much force, hitting himself in the head in the process. “fuck.” 

he couldn’t get the image of your soft gaze and gentle voice out of his head, when you tried to cheer him up in the car after he acted like a complete asshole. he was the last person that deserved your sweet affection, and he was so mad at himself for acting like a fucking toddler instead of pulling the car over and throwing himself into your arms to beg for forgiveness. 

“are you okay?” suddenly your voice pulled him out of his thoughts. you peeked through the door, and rubbed your eyes, already wearing his t-shirt that you always wore to sleep. the genuine concern in your eyes, and your adorably sleepy expression made seungcheol want to bang his head against the wall. 

how could he be so stupid, and get jealous and angry at you for finding a fictional character attractive? 

"uh, i'm fine, i just hit my head," he said quietly, not really looking at you. usually you’d immediately coo at him, and kiss the spot where he hit himself - of course you knew how much seungcheol loved your attention when he injured himself, even if it was just a scratch, but now he could only watch as you nodded and left without a word. 

he sighed, picking up his toothbrush to finish up his bedtime routine. there was no way he’d sleep in your bed tonight, seungcheol wouldn’t be able to lay next to you knowing how much he hurt you.

besides, there was so way you’d allow him to cuddle you after how he acted, and that was something he would not be able to stand. 

looking at his reflection in the mirror for the last time, seungcheol turned all of the lights in the bathroom, and padded over to your shared bedroom to take his pillow, and a blanket from the closet. 

he’d take the couch, it’d be less painful than sleeping in the same bed without being able to hug you. 

“what are you doing?” you suddenly asked, your voice laced with sleep. you pushed yourself up to take a better look at your boyfriend, who was standing at his side of the bed with what looked like his pillow and a blanket, his expression reminiscing one of a kicked puppy. “you have to be kidding me, choi seungcheol.” 

you looked so disappointed, and… annoyed? that was his last straw, and fuck every part of his dignity he had left - he’d beg on his knees for you forgiveness if that’s what it took. 

“ ‘m sorry, okay?” he said, his voice breaking. you could bet that if you turned the lights you’d see your boyfriend all teary eyed, not that it would surprise you - seungcheol was usually quite emotional when it came to you and your fights.

“i know there was no reason for me to get jealous and act like the biggest asshole about it, you didn’t deserve any of it,” he gripped the pillow tighter as if it would help. “and then i got so embarrassed of myself, i didn’t have the guts to tell you how sorry i was. please forgive me baby, i’m so sorry.” 

“oh, cheol,” you sighed and opened your arms. without a second thought, the boy threw the pillow aside and ran into your embrace, his strong arms wrapping tightly around your waist as if he was afraid that you were about to run away.

“i'm not mad at you,” you pressed your cheek against the side of his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. “okay, maybe i was at first, but that's only because you seriously act like a child sometimes.” seungcheol groaned, as if he didn’t know that already. 

you sat like that for a moment - your arms wrapped around his strong shoulders, with his head buried in your neck where he placed gentle kisses, just like the fight never happened. 

"did you seriously want to go to sleep on the couch?" you asked, kissing his forehead.

cheol leaned back, revealing the pouty lips, and his big doe eyes you knew so well. you could swear some day he’d be the death of you. "yeah, i wanted to. that was the plan," he admitted shyly, his thumbs running over your exposed hip.  

"you're so dramatic, cheollie," you sighed and shook your head, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. "why didn't you want to sleep with me, though?" 

your boyfriend groaned again, hiding in your neck like it was his safe space, pushing you back onto the bed with the force that he tackled you in. "i wouldn't be able to cuddle you," he murmured after a short while, like he was scared to admit it.  

"again, i didn't hear you." the truth was you heard him perfectly fine, but what was better than making your usually confident boyfriend shy and blushy. 

"i wouldn’t be able to cuddle you!" he huffed, looking at you again. "happy?" 

"very much, darling," you smiled at him. “now stop being a drama queen, and come to bed.” 

seungcheol nodded like a child that was just promised an ice cream, and scrambled out of your embrace, quickly grabbing his pillow from the ground. you smiled to yourself, watching your big teddy bear of a boyfriend crawl back into bed. 

“no more fighting, okay?” you murmured, your cheek pressed against his chest. “we just wasted a perfectly fine afternoon on your whining, you big baby.” 

seungcheol knew you didn’t mean to make him feel bad about what happened, he was sure you were probably used to his antics by now, but it didn’t change the fact that if it was up to him he’d spend the night worshipping you in every way he could just to show you how much he loved you. 

“i’m really sorry.” 

“it’s okay baby. let’s just sleep, yeah?” you said, and snuck your hand under his t-shirt, dragging you nails over his tummy. “and you know i’m yours, right? and that won’t change. ever.”

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[hyperballart]

perv!art thoughts…

it began the moment he saw you around campus for the first time; you’re one of tashi’s closest friends and roommate so he knows he’ll be spotting you more often. his heart is still sore from the loss of tashi’s number, so he figured you’d be a good temporary distraction, but the second you talk to him he knows that ‘temporary’ won’t be the case.

all interactions with you are somewhat fleeting; greeting exchanges and some small talk, but it hooks him in more and more. he starts cutting up pictures of you he finds from the school’s newspaper from the sports section you’re in and keeping them in a small box under his bed. in one instance, he’d taken a picture frame from your desk when he went over to lend tashi his phone charger when she lost her own — it was a picture of you with a friend back home at the beach. he studied the way that tiny bikini clung to your wet skin, the small arch in your back, and your sweet smile every night before bed.

he gets so unbelievably hard when his mind wanders to you — which is all the time. when patrick comes to visit tashi, the four of you gather in you and tashi’s dorm to hang out. he always sneaks off with one of your belongings, small enough that you thankfully don’t get too alarmed of — his recent acquisition had been one of your used athletic shorts. he knows he should’ve thought this through when he knocks on your door and you open wearing some of the tiniest jean shorts he’d ever seen.

“hi art!”

he snaps out of it and greets you with a flustered hey before making himself comfortable. patrick, tashi, art, and you sit on the floor sipping on cold beers from the mini fridge and making conversation. art keeps zoning out throughout the night — he stares at your bare legs and thighs. he stares between them more specifically, at the way the denim is tightening with every subtle move around your thighs, he wants to rip the fabric off and kiss the red marks left behind better. as if on cue, you start to speak.

“—i don’t know where all my shorts keep disappearing,” you giggle as you adjust the hem on the ones you’re wearing, “i think they have to add cameras in the laundry room, i haven’t worn this pair since high school — god.”

art gulps as tashi replies, “maybe it’s just you at this point, this is like the 20th time you’ve misplaced something.”

the night carries on, art chimes into the conversation every once in a while and he struggles to hide his boner in his pants. he feels himself twitch when you get up and bend over to retrieve another beer. his head turns fuzzy and he replies with a stiff nod when patrick asks if he’s good.

he needs to touch his dick soon, he knows he won’t last but it kills him to be this close to you without his hands on your skin. he muffles a whimper when you get on your hands and knees and reach across between patrick and tashi to change the radio station.

you’re almost flush against his chest, he sees the way your tank top lifts up and reveals your midriff and waist, the dip in your lower back when your back naturally arches. he casts his eyes lower and notices the way your tiny jean shorts slide down a bit and tease a hot pink lacy thong — this one must be new, he hasn’t seen it in your drawer before — and he feels sweat building at his temple.

“there,” you sit back down next to him again as a rock song comes on, “oh god i’m sorry art, i didn’t realize i was gonna be in your space like that.”

“it— it’s okay, don’t worry about it,” he needs to leave now, “i actually have practice early tomorrow, i’m gonna go to bed.”

he says his goodbyes and you offer to walk him out, when you hug him he hopes you didn’t feel his erection. he quickly runs to his room.

he locks the door before plopping on his bed and immediately strips down. he spits on his tip and groans when he remembers the way you pouted when he announced his departure. he grips himself nice and hard — he bets you’ll be even tighter. he strokes himself upwards, base to head, and watches as more cum oozes from his slit. he sighs out your name as his eyes flutter shut and goes back to the way your thighs were bulging out of your shorts earlier.

“mmm, fuck,” he searches around under his pillow until he feels the stretchy fabric — your missing garment. he brings the crotch to his nose while his other hand frantically fucks his throbbing cock. he’s whining into it, the smell of you slightly lingering is enough to have him panting and really, really fucking close.

in his state of delirium he barely recognizes that he’s started licking and lapping at them, “tastes so fucking good, oh god, nnghh —“ he reaches down to his balls and squeezes them, wheezing out your name yet again as he glances to his bedside table where the picture of you in your bikini rests. he cums instantly in ropes that paint his chest.

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Aemond X Reader: The cowardly king

a/n: hotd has been giving me some inspo for writting i'm hopping it will pull me out of writers block 🙃

Warnings: Spoilers for Ep 3, smut, rough sex, angry sex, whores, being treated badly by men, flinching, talks of being hit, Aegon being a little shit (like always), female reader, no use of y/n

Word count: 1,6K

His voice drifted across the room causing your ears to perk up. You turn your head in a swift motion searching from him in the crowd. Your eyes find his platinum blond hair in an instant. He’s being followed by three men, one of which looks around the room in despair. You rise from your seat, ignoring the shouts of the men you’d been talking to. You’d get punished for bad service later but you didn’t care at the moment. There was something more important to deal with right now.

You watched from the corner of your eye as King Aegon pulled open the various curtains that give some of the customers a bit more privacy to enjoy themselves. Your bare feet pad across the floor in a rush, desperately trying to get to the curtain before Aegon. You're so close, just a few more steps and you’ll reach it. But then one of the girls bumps into you causing you to lose your balance. You stumble gripping the nearby table. The girl comes your way apologizing as she helps you stand straight but you aren’t paying attention to her. Your eyes narrowed in on the curtain Aegon has just gotten too. You try to move quickly to distract him but it's already too late.

You watch in horror as the King pulls the curtain open to reveal none other than his brother Aemond, in the arms of an older woman. You stop in your spot, body frozen as you listen to Aegon's shrieks of laughter. Aemond sits up immediately, not daring to make eye contact with his brother who continues to laugh like a loon. You watch the exchange with a deep pain in your heart. You knew why Aemond chose to stay with the madam and you knew it had little to do with sex and much more to do with something he lacked in his life. A mothers touch. You don’t pay attention to the conversation, focused only on the slumped frame of prince Aemond. You wish to hug him but you know better than to move from your spot. You watch him rise from his spot turning to face the room for the first time.

“Any whore would do.”

That's when his eyes catch your frame. He stares at you for a moment, his eye seeping into your soul. For a moment he thinks you might be enjoying the show his brother has put on but when he sees the clear disgust in your face he knows he’d misjudged you. He walks out of the room, unafraid to show every part of himself to the people that surrounded you. You waited a moment before going after him. 

Aemond’s long legs allowed him to take large steps, causing you to have to walk quite fast to catch up to him. You have a feeling he doesn’t know where he’s going. Being caught off guard by his brother seemed to have destabilized him a bit. You knew it wasn’t smart to let him leave in such a state. There was no telling who would suffer the consequences.

“Aemond, wait!”

You didn’t know if he hadn’t heard you or he was simply choosing to ignore you but you weren’t giving up that easily. You forced yourself to walk faster despite the pain that the stone beneath your bare feet was causing you. You managed to get closer to Aemond, your hand reaching out to grab his shoulder. You managed to touch him lightly but not to stop him from walking.

“Leave me.”

“Aemond you know i can-”

“Leave me!”

He’d whipped around so fast you’d barely had time to grab onto the wall behind you. His face was mare inches from your, his hand gripping onto your wrist in a brutal manner. You looked up at him in horror, your shoulders taunt with fear. Aemond raised his hand, the action causing you to close your eyes. You prepared yourself for the blow of his palm to your face.

It never came.

Aemond stared at you, he took in the way your body prepared itself from the pain you imagined you were about to go through. It was only then that he noticed his hand was raised and that you’d interpreted it as him preparing to hit you. His eyebrows furrowed at the realization. You’d thought he was about to hurt you and the first instinct you had was to take it. 

You wondered if he’d only hit you the one time or if he would take out all his anger on you. Men had laid their hands on you before but they hadn’t been trained in the way you imagined Aemond was. You expected him to be far stronger than the men you’d dealt with before. So you could only imagine that the pain he would bring you would be far worse.

Time seemed to pass slower, his hand had not made contact with your face yet and it seemed to be taking far too long to do so. Slowly you opened your eyes, preparing yourself to close them again if necessary. Only, when you looked at Aemond again you saw fear in his eyes. You looked at him like a wounded animal and he looked at you like a child who didn't realize its own strength. His lips opened slightly allowing a whisper of your name to slip through them. You watched as he slowly lowered his hand until he could cup your cheek. You looked up at him with wide eyes, trying to figure out his next move. Never would you have expected what he did next.

Aemond crashed his lips into yours in desperation, his body pushing you up against the wall. His chest rubbed against your breasts causing your nipples to harden. A small whine made its ways out of your lips as Aemond ran his tongue against your mouth. You allowed him what he was asking for, opening your mouth so that his tongue could tangle with yours. His hands found your waist, fingers digging into your hip with an unnecessary amount of strength. Aemond tugged at your hair causing you to groan as he unlatched your lips from his. He stared down at you for a moment, his chest heaving with angry breaths. Your pupils were shot wide, the sudden desire Aemond had managed to pull out of you becoming clear. 

“Turn around.”

You did as he asked, turning so your back was to his chest. He shifted your hair to the side giving a bit to your neck. You let out a moan at the feeling. Aemond was seething but it wasn’t because of you. He was enraged by his brother and needed to take his frustration out on someone, one way or another. It seemed this way at least he could enjoy himself a bit.

You felt him move himself against you, his dick prodding at your ass. You widen your legs a bit, trying to make it easier for him. Aemond lined his dick up with your entrance before pushing into you with a harsh thrust. Your mouth fell open at the sudden intrusion. Without giving you so much as a second to breathe Aemond began pistoling into you. You couldn’t help but moan out his name as he moved against you, your hands moving to hold onto his head. He rested his face on your neck, allowing his grunts of pleasure to become less obvious. He continued to chase his high, not bothering to help you get to your own. Your pleasure wasn’t really on his mind at the moment but it wasn’t an issue. You were used to it. Just another part of the job. After one harsh thrust Aemond came with a groan, his seed spilling down your thigh as he held you in place. 

He pulled out of you causing you to let out a small whine. You didn’t try to move from your spot, afraid that perhaps your sudden movements might anger him. You tried to listen to his footsteps moving away from you but you heard nothing. Aemond looked at you, his eyes falling on the bruised he’d left on your skin from his harsh grip. He called out your name, causing you to turn your head to the side. He grabbed your face forcing you to turn to face him completely. You stared up at his eyes, your mind still a bit foggy.

“I would never hurt you.”

His eye ran down to the bruise on your hip before he looked back at you.

“At least not in the way you thought I would.”

“Yes My Prince.”

Aemond watched you for a moment longer before turning to leave. You watched him get his clothes back on before exiting the place. You couldn’t help but keep staring at the spot he once had been.

“Guess he meant it.”

Aegon's voice filled your ears causing you to turn to look in his direction. He gave you a sly grin.

“Any whore will do.”

The right thing to do was to bow your head to him. He was the king after all. But you couldn’t care less. He’d just embarrassed his brother in front of many simply because he could. You stared at him, watching as he continued to smile at you. You turned on your heels making your way away from his prying eyes. 

If it was up to you, you’d have his head on a stick.

[dxxdhood]

Okayyyyyy your sub!Wade Wilson fic literally destroyed me and I need like a million more consider yourself my new dealer

(If reqs are open can I get uhhhhh Wade Wilson where he's needy but has no idea what he wants so reader has to shut his brain off and figure it out for him pls and thanks)

hi anon, i love this idea so much omg! i may have played around with it a bit but i think i still kept the same core idea. i went with fem! reader on this, but if you want a similar request with gn! or male! reader, let me know! pls enjoy!!!

rough night

pairing: wade wilson x fem!reader

summary: wade needs your love and attention, and luckily, you're always there to help him out.

tags: smut (18+), sub!wade wilson, dom!reader, dirty talk, praise kink, light bondage, grinding, clothed sex, oral (f receiving), exhibitionism, car sex

wc: 2.0k

“Okay, babe, hear me out: the ending to the stage version of Little Shop is leagues better than whatever deus ex machina crap they had to throw into the last two minutes of the movie. Cowardly movie-goer audiences can not handle true stage-level tragedy–”

“Wade!” You shout, nearly swerving the car as you double check the directions. Past midnight on the freeway after a long day, you barely had the concentration to drive in silence– much less in a car with your partner in it. “Can you help me get us home first before we start arguing over musical movies again. Please?”

Wade hums, tapping his scarred hand against the console, “That’s a big ask, I’m not so sure I can, to tell you the truth. You wanna talk about musical movies? Can we talk about how big The Greatest Showman got when the score is nothing but pop songs? Look, I get the lead actor looks like my crazy-hot new best friend, but the 2010s had way better stuff coming out.”

Turning his head so you could see the shit-eating grin plastered on his face, he whistles a note before speaking. “You missed our exit, by the way.”

“What?” You double check the GPS to make sure he’s not lying. Sure enough, he’s right. “Why didn’t you warn me?”

“Oh, you know. Typical Deadpool, just pissing off everyone around him all the time for no reason,” he chimes in again, and something about his tone sets you off. You speed across the next available ramp, and after the few seconds it takes for you to end up on a deserted road, you stop the car.

Taking a deep inhale, you make sure to hit the inside light so he can see you properly, and you grab the arm still fidgeting next to you. “Wade, what’s up with you?”

His eyes go large, and his expression loses all the mischief immediately. Shaking his head a little, he purses his lips. “Nothing. Nothing’s up.”

“Let’s just get home,” he says after an empty moment, almost like he’s booting up again. “You can yell at me the entire way back, okay? I was being a pain in the ass. I’ll take it lying down, promise.”

Seeing him in the dim, yellow lighting, he’s trying to retreat into his hoodie. He’s pulling away from you even as he speaks, and it makes your stomach turn.

“Let’s–” you start, unbuckling your seatbelt before gripping the door handle.  “Let’s just take a second first.”

You catch a wash of confusion on his face, but you exit the car and walk over to his side before he voices his thoughts out loud. Opening his door, you quickly envelope him in a hug before he can try to pull away again.

You swear you heard a whimper, but it was so quiet, you nearly missed it. Almost instantly, Wade buries his head in your neck, and his arms wrap around your middle tight. 

The two of you stay there, alone, with the gentle sound of crickets chirping in the background for what feels like a small eternity. You know it must have only been a few minutes, because shortly, your thighs burn from the angle you’re bending at, so you gently pull away. You decide not to mention the wetness left on your shirt.

“What do you need?” You ask.

He shakes his head again, but faster this time. “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t even know why I was trying to piss you off.”

“Today was fine, right? I thought so, but all of sudden everything felt like it was going to shit. In my head, I just started going around in circles, going over all the little ways I kept fucking up, and – I don’t know – it got to me.” Wade brings a palm to his forehead. “It’s just one of those hate-yourself days, I guess.” 

You nod, taking one of his hands in yours as you stand on the dying grass surrounding the road. Rubbing his palm with your thumb, trying to transfer some of your warmth to him, you’re suddenly met with an idea so good, you can keep inside the chuckle. 

“Sorry, sorry!” You choke. “Not laughing at you, I just– I just think it’s funny where my brain goes.”

“What do you mean?” He looks up at you with pupils so big, you just want to go back to squeezing him. 

“Well, we’re all alone out here.”

You can almost see the loading screen in Wade’s mind when he breaks out in a laugh. “No way, I finally found someone worse than me.”

“Would you want to?”

He’s nodding before he can even process, but after a second a frown sets in. “You know I’m always down to clown around, but I’d just be a burden right now. I’m all sad and icky and touchy-feely. I don’t even know what I–”

“You want me to handle it?” you interrupt. “I’ll just do stuff we’ve liked doing in the past. You don’t have to worry about a thing, I’ll make it all good for you.”

Wade turns his head away, and for a terrifying moment, you believe you’ve made him uncomfortable. But a part of him wins whatever fight is going on eternally, and when he faces you again, a blush coats his cheeks.“You’d do that?”

“You think I’m offering ‘cause I like hearing myself talk?”

“You have the sweetest voice I’ve ever heard,” he smiles, and not having learned anything, you bend down again to kiss him. He responds fast, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek as he pulls you in closer. No matter how much of you he gets, he always finds himself needing more.

You push his hood down and you carefully run your hands across his scalp, cradling his head, as you deepen the kiss. Licking inside his mouth, you feel more than hear a rumble build in his chest.

Breaking away, you pull your sweater off before laying it on the ground in front of the passenger seat. Stepping to the side, you give Wade a second to process before you order him.

“Kneel.”

He definitely mumbles a soft “holy shit” as he slips out of the car and drops to his knees. Briefly, you run your hands across his shoulders, kneading at the intersection between his shoulders and neck, feeling the tense muscle there. Typical Wade to cause problems instead of talking about his own. Just how long was he carrying around all of this tension? Maybe when you’re both home later, at what will probably be the crack of dawn, you can run him a warm bath or give him a better massage.

For right now, you slip past him and sit in the car seat above him. Angled so your legs dangle out the car door opening, you place a hand around the back of Wade’s neck and urge him closer.

“You ready?” You whisper. “You want to eat me out, Wade?”

He buries his head into your thigh at your words as he lets out a groan, “Yes, please, oh my god.”

Grabbing both of your legs, he lifts them onto his shoulder and he already starts to move his head closer in between them.

“Hold on,” you grab one of his hands, interlocking your fingers. “Here, help me move one of my legs off your shoulder and against your dick.”

To his credit, he does, even as he shivers at your words. As he scooches around, trying to get comfortable or maybe just hungry for more sensation already, you feel his cock half hard.

“You’ve been wanting this, huh? Wanting me to boss you around a little,” you whisper, inching your head closer to his so you can whisper in his ear. “Wanting to hear dirty things in my voice?”

“Yes!’ he shouts. “Yes, please! Can I eat you out, babe? I’ll be good!”

“”Course you will be,” you smile. “You’re always so good for me.”

With a little maneuvering around your legs, you manage to slip your shorts and underwear off, accidentally tossing them into the darkness.

Wade frowns, his brow creasing, “No, I haven’t been very good lately–”

On command, you grab his chin and tilt it so his gaze rests on yours. There’s no hiding from your words now. “Don’t say that. Stop talking.”

“You don’t feel good?” you smirk. “Then prove to me right now how good you can really be.”

He needs no further encouragement as he buries his face between your thighs, already licking across you, teasing you even now. His pace is quick, desperate, but he’s still careful to avoid where you need him most.

With one hand perched at the top of his head, you scratch the other down his neck as a warning, but all it does is draw a moan from him. You can feel the vibrations through you, and it causes you to grind across his mouth.

Panting heavily, you decide to even the score. You press your calf up against his hard cock, inching it backwards and forwards, bit by bit, and that’s all it takes for Wade to remember his own needs. Wanting  you already, he slowly grinds against your leg, and though it feels harsh through his pants, from past experience as well as the wet groans filling the air, you’re sure Wade enjoys it.

Suddenly, he decides to circle your clit in earnest, and it draws a loud moan from you. You begin to grind yourself against his tongue, still somehow working you with coordinated movements despite how out-of-control he humps your leg.

His whimpers slip out of him, as if he’s been completely fucked dumb just by getting off on your leg. The power is heady, and you move your hands to his, wrapping them around his wrists and bringing them in front of him to settle right in front of his stomach. Once you’re sure you’ve got a secure grasp, you bring one of your hands away to tilt his face up to yours so you can kiss him again.

You taste yourself warm on his lips, and the thought causes even more heat to pool at your core. All too soon, you pull away from him and shove his head back between your thighs. 

“Fuck, Wade, so good. You’re so good for me.”

He’s whimpering right into your core and involuntarily, the hand restraining his wrists clenches. The harshness only turns him on further, and he continues rubbing himself along your leg so quick, you’re sure it must be starting to sting.

“Yeah? You like fucking my leg, Wade? I love seeing you grind on me, sweetheart, you’re so pretty.”

His pace increases, and he starts letting out frequent moans in between the warm breaths he exhales onto you. Your thighs are shaking – his speed for you has never faltered – and you shove his face towards you with the palm against his head.

“I’m gonna come. You wanna be my good boy and come with me, huh?”

At that, he releases a loud groan into your pussy, and you feel yourself coming, dripping onto his already soaked face. At your wetness, his grinding only increases, and after only a few more seconds, Wade finishes, cum seeping from his pants onto your leg. 

The two of you stay silent with only your breaths slowly returning to normal to fill the air. Wade’s eyes are large, gazing at you like you’re all he could ever want, and it’s almost too overwhelming for you to return.

Shakily, he pushes off the ground and makes it to his feet before he stumbles to the side. On instinct, you jump from the seat outside to catch him, your arms wrapped around his waist. You’re still afraid that he’ll fall, but Wade lets out a light giggle.

“If you couldn’t drive us home before, I’ve got no clue how we’re making it back now.”

You lightly slap his arm, “You could be nicer to me after I made you come, bitch.”

He lets out a groan that would sound exaggerated if it came from anyone else, “Shit, call me that next time!”

“Next time I wreck you in the middle of nowhere?” you smirk.

“Just name a time and place.”

[messylustt]

౨ৎ ‧˚

𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐡𝐞𝐦

miguel o’hara x fem!reader. a lot of words.

fic masterlist previous part pt eight next part

violence + blood + injuries; making out; suggestive content; my god whew — miguel’s hand raises to…what? you don’t know, because the spider society’s alarm bell is ringing. mayhem, fire, fights…masked men. you only want to help. when miguel confronts you about your ‘help’ clearly displaying anger and well…worry, something unexpected happens…you both getting as close as you did before…maybe closer?

You’re still staring at Miguel, staying close. Closer than you probably should be. And just as his hand reaches up to…to what? What was he going to do?

Because now the alarms are sounding. Followed by the cries of spider-people. You quickly whip your head to the door. And at first Miguel doesn’t look away from you. As if the word ‘emergency’ isn’t registering in his brain. No. He keeps his eyes on you, his lifted hand having to drop away as you rush to the door.

Miguel clenched his jaw, cursing the whole idea of having an ‘emergency bell’.

You’ve reached the door and then the hallway seeing mayhem. Everyone is running (or more so webbing) around, as a fire had started in the centre.

Miguel is soon joining you, just as you spot Miles and Hobie running up. “There you are, mate.” Hobie sighs in relief, grabbing your shoulders as he goes to move you.

“Wh-“ You look around. “What’s going on?”

Miguel narrows his eyes on Hobie’s hands. He knows now’s really not the time to feel petty, but part of him wants to break his ringed fingers. Hobie moves you with him further down the hallway. “If they recognise ya, they’ll wanna kill ya, luv. So, let’s maybe go…ay?”

Your eyes widen. “Kill?! What? Why?”

Miles is hot on both your heels. Miguel not far behind him. Then Miguel notices Miles, brows slightly furrowing. “Why are you here?” He asks, making Miles glance back.

“Uh…I was invited.” He says slowly.

“Uh huh.” He eyed the kid. “By who? Gwen?”

Miles gulps at the look Miguel is giving him. “Yeah…”

“Mm.” Miguel hums, looking distasteful as he walks past Miles, catching up to you and Hobie. “Now we’re letting anyone in?” He mutters to himself with a small scoff.

“Hobie, what happened?” You ask, as he continues to move you, his grip staying on your shoulders. He brings you to the tech room, it appearing empty. You look behind you at the way you came. “I didn’t know you could get here through there.” You mutter.

“Lyla.” You hear Miguel say, her appearing by his shoulder. “What is this?” Though the look Miguel is displaying makes you feel as though he already knows.

“An attack on HQ.” Lyla says, beginning to tap away at her little screens.

“Okay, there are way too many of them.” You hear Pav say, running into the room.

“We held them off as much as we could.” Gwen is close behind. “But their strong. Like freaky strong.”

“Y/n!” Pav exclaims, bringing you in for a hug.

“Oh—“ You weren’t expecting the hug, everything happening so fast, as you slowly pat his back.

“Where were you?” He sounds concerned.

“I was just…” you drift off, licking your lips. “Gwen, whose really strong?” You quickly look to her.

“You remember the men who attacked last time? The one’s with the masks?” Gwen asks, to which you slowly nod, catching on.

“They’re back?” You ask. Gwen nods.

“But they look different.” Gwen’s says—her having seen the ones who attacked you and the tech room when they were in pools of their own blood, curtesy of Miguel. “They’re…”

“Bigger.” You mutter, picturing the masked men that were in Miles’ universe. “Better suits? Strangely taller?” You ask her.

“Yeah…”

“They’ve upgraded.” You mutter.

“Which means they aren’t here for a tiny thief job.” Miguel says, walking past you all to one of the only computers that didn’t get smashed. He pauses though, licking his teeth, as he mutters rather quietly. “Does anyone know the password?”

You hold back your amused smile, as you walk up to the computer. You lean down, tapping at the keyboard. The screen glitches a little, but for the most part it works.

“You’re looking for the security cameras right?” You ask Miguel, still staring at the screen. Lyla was clearly too busy to compute it, so you tap at more keys, bringing up roughly twenty different security camera images.

You zoom in on the middle three, displaying the fire and the masked men. Miguel leans over the desk beside you, staring at the screen. “They started the fire by smashing the tech there.” You point to a far spot on the screen, noticing the destroyed screens and machines.

Everyone had begun to surround the computer. “Why do they want to destroy tech?” Pav ask, as you shift your gaze to Miguel.

His gaze is focused on the screen, and more specifically on one specific ‘masked man’ . You narrowed your gaze on him. Where had he gone earlier? Has he met this guy? How does he recognise him? They all look the same to you.

Green woven—now metal—suits, but still those handmade masks…except now with added metal elements scattered randomly. “Miguel.” You say, making him shift his gaze to you.

You tilt your head, silently communicating that you know somethings up. The raise of your brows asks him why he isn’t voicing anything.

Miguel’s teeth are grinding as he stares at you, silently communicating back. You narrow your eyes upon understanding his expression as one showing he’s not going to voice anything. If he doesn’t have to anyway.

Hobie stares at you two for a moment, blinking. “Can you two read each others minds now? Is that what we’ve been missin’?”

You shift your gaze to Hobie, who’s standing, arms crossed. Then a rather loud scream makes all your heads whip to the computer. A masked man is holding up a spider-person by the throat. But what makes you want to puke is the way his claw is beginning to stab into the spiders chest and running down, tearing skin and other bodily flesh.

Hobie, Gwen, Pav, and Miles are quick, rushing out of the room and assumably to the lobby, where the guy’s screams are easily heard. Other spider-people are trying to fight back, but the masked men seem to be knocking them down a little too easily. How are they doing that so easily?

You swiftly turn your gaze to the screen, eyes darting, as your chest heaved. “One of them took it, Miguel.” Lyla says, making you shift your gaze to him.

He’s moving away, most likely to get to the action to help as well. He meets your gaze. “Don’t you dare move.” He warns, before he’s slipping through the secret entry.

What did Lyla say? One of the masked men took what? You look back to the computer, wincing every time a spider-person got hit. Hard. You take note of one guy, his hits extra painful to watch—the one Miguel was staring at. You wanted to help. You wished you could help.

Then you hear the shuffle of metal making you spin. But your heart slows upon seeing Peter and Mayday. Wait…mayday?!

You rush forward, seeing Peter’s frantic expression. “Y/n, Thank god. I didn’t—I didn’t know what to do.” He gesturing to Mayday.

“Peter why is she here?!” You’re extremely worried.

“I didn’t know an attack was gonna happen! I would have left her home.” He’s looking behind him, clearly knowing he has to help, but still holding tightly onto an unbothered, babbling Mayday.

You quickly grab her, pulling her into your arms. “Go.” You say. “They need you out there. Go.”

Peter looks hesitant, and you understand why. “I’ll hide.” You say, knowing he’s skeptical because you’re well…human and could barely fight back against those men. Especially if spider variants are getting knocked out.

“They won’t find me. They won’t find her.” You hold Mayday close to you, as she rests her head on your shoulder, her smile still present.

Then Peter is nodding. He trusts you. He knows you’re not one to be stupid. “Go.” You say again, and he moves, rushing out towards the action.

Your heart is beating on overdrive. Holding Mayday tightly, you turned back to the screen. None of your friends were knocked out, injured or…dead. But just as you go to find somewhere to hide—as you had promised, you noticed something.

A small machine, with a switch, it’s almost unseeable through the screen, but you catch it. That isn’t the spider-society’s tech. That’s from the masked men.

No. It suddenly clicks. Why all the spider-people were getting knocked out easy, why they could never sense when a masked man was l close. It was as if someone switched off their spider-sense and strength.

You felt Mayday lean away, using her own spider webs to attach to a farther desk, yanking you along the ground. “Mayday.” You hold her back. Now was not the time. Why did Peter give her her own webs?

You rip the web, pulling her back. “Mayday.” You say making your look at you, hair curling around her face. “You have to stay still. Okay? Just stay in my arms. Then how bout we play a game after?”

Her face lights up. You’d played these games with her, the main two being learning fun handshakes, and the other was hide and seek. “Alright?” You ask gently. She excitedly jumps in your arms. “You gotta stay still, though.” She stills, wrapping her arms around your neck.

You sigh, turning back to the screen. You can spot Gwen looking confused, clearly feeling the effects of not having a spider-sense. Then you spot Miguel. He seems unaffected by the change, noticing the masked men a lot quicker than the other spider people. Then you shift your gaze back to the switch.

The spider variants didn’t know. Shit, shit, shit. You had said you’d hide, to keep Mayday safe. But you can’t just do…nothing. Then you decide something incredibly stupid, like beyond a seeable level of stupid that could turn out terribly.

But you had to try. Because they weren’t winning out there. You pull Mayday away, making sure she caught your gaze. “Okay, Mayday…we’re gonna a play a game now. How’s that?”

She nods quickly, clapping her hands. “Alright…you remember hide and seek?”

She again nods at you, slightly playing with your hair. “I’m gonna count. And you’re gonna hide. Somewhere good. Really good.”

She begins to try and get out for yours arms, eager to play. “Mayday. Find somewhere really good.” She’d always been very good at choosing a hard hiding place. It always took you forever to find her. And you were counting on that.

Then you reluctantly let her go. You wouldn’t be long. You wouldn’t be. “One…” you pretend to cover your eyes, as you watch her waddle away through the cracks between your fingers.

You were stressed. This plan couldn’t go wrong. You wouldn’t let it. “Two…”

You were gonna reach that switch. “Three…”

And now you can’t see Mayday, knowing what direction she ran in, and roughly where she had hid, so that you could rush back to her. You had to be quick.

You ran towards the secret exit, grabbing a loose pipe. You’d rather go out there with a weapon. Loud sounds reach your eardrums when you made it outside the room, but you continued to run.

You couldn’t slow, or take your time. You rushed past spiders, thankful none are noticing you. Just stay unnoticed—you keep repeating to yourself. You reached the middle of the mayhem. And god was it hectic.

You couldn’t let Peter see you. You couldn’t let Miguel see you. You couldn’t let any of them see you. It’s as if you never came here. You ran, skirting past broken tables and machines.

Everything felt hot, the fire still partially there. You held back a scream as a tumbling, fighting duo nearly barrelled into you—it managed to knock away your pipe, but you couldn’t stop to dwell. The switch, the switch, the switch.

You slid to your knees, rushing under a table. You’ve almost gotten punched, and you’re sure a cut is bleeding. But you run, you can now see the switch, and also your friends. They look terrible.

You grit your teeth moving quicker. You’re so close. And just as you think relief is near, a body hits you, knocking you down. You wince, looking up to see a masked man. He tilts his head, blood coating his entire claw along with his suit.

You shuffle back along the floor, trying to get to your feet. But his boot comes down onto your chest, making you wheeze. “Aren’t you that chick who got away?”

“Different chick.” You wheeze out, scrabbling to get his foot off you.

“Nah, I remember the poster they put up in the lab. Your face is recognisable.” He presses harder against your chest. Your hand scrambles to the side, against the dirty floor. Find something. Anything.

Your hand finally clasps around a loose peice of metal. You tighten your hold, the sharpness cutting your palm. You swing your arm across, stabbing it into the guy’s calf.

It goes in deep, resulting in him lessening his boots hold. You manage to roll away, swiftly getting to your feet. He goes to lunge for you again, but your arm shoots out in a punch, right across his face. He stumbles slightly back.

But you seem to be more hurt then him. “Mother fu—“ you hiss, holding your now bruised knuckles. “Shit…why did I do that?” You mutter to yourself.

But you try not to dwell on the pain as you run past him and the others, finally reaching the switch. One hand is bloody while the other is bruised and you’ve never felt more relieved. You push the switch, a small whirring sound reaching your ears.

Then suddenly you catch sight of all the spider-people’s spider-senses turning back on, practically animated. But your relieved smile drops as practically all the masked men shift there gaze to you. Shit.

With all the turned heads, you catch Hobie’s turn as well. His spider-sense now taking note of you. His eyes widen in a mix of confusion, worry and anger? Wow you’ve never really seen him angry before.

Miguel takes note of you now as well now, as you shift your gaze to him, pressing your lips together as you breathe through your nose. Miguel’s expression is downright terrifying. You watch as he snaps one the masked men’s necks as he moves towards you.

You gulp, noticing some of the masked men move to you as well. You swiftly grab the small switch machine, and begin to back out of the room, or at least try to.

And just as a claw reaches for your face, an orange web yanks you aside, nearly making you tumble, but a tight hand wraps around your upper arm. “What the fuck are doing here?” Miguel lowly hisses out.

“Miguel— I have to go.” Mayday. You had to get to Mayday.

“No, no you can’t just go anywhere. You were already practically an enemy to these guy, but oh now they want to kill you.” He says this while slicing his claws across one of the guys throats—having tilted his head back to display the guys bare neck.

“Miguel.” You hiss. “Let go. I have to go.” You rush these words out.

But Miguel didn’t want to let go. You were bleeding, bruised, and almost dead. “Why didn’t you stay put? Why didn’t you stay goddamn put?” He growls.

You’re breathing hard. You had to go, and you didn’t have the time to explain. So you do the best thing you can think of. “I’m sorry about this...”

Your hand had reached for something on the a table, a plate, another peice of metal, whatever it was you knock it across his face. Not to cut, or harm, just so that his grip would loosen around your arm.

And it does, leaving you room to run. And god did you run—fast. You skirted past fighting people, the spider variants finally knocking some of the masked men down, now that the switch was off.

You reached the secret entrance, rushing into the tech room. You kept the switch machine close to you as you rushed to Mayday’s hiding place. You tried to slow your breathing, not wanting to freak her out. You wiped your bloody hand on your pants, wincing as your cut rubs against the material.

You didn’t want to scare her.

You reach the small cupboard type thing, having to lift yourself up. She had clearly webbed herself towards it. But with you being taller than her you managed. You took a breath. Pretending that you had been playing the entire time.

“Oh, Mayday.” You sing songed quietly. “I wonder where you are?”

You neared the closed cupboard door, hearing a faint giggle. You sigh in relief at the fact that she’s still here. You whip the doors open and you hear a small squeak. You scoop her up.

“Found you.” You said softly, earning now huffing giggles from her. She was okay. She was okay.

But then your heart drops. You hear heavy scuffing boots enter the room. No. Please no. Without thinking you rush into the cupboard, shutting the door.

Mayday begins to babble on about something, but you put her head into your neck. “Shh.” You shakily whisper. “Shh.” You stroke her hair. She moves a little, but luckily she begins to relax in your arms.

You can hear the taunting boots near. And you hold your hand over your mouth, quieting your heavy breathing. Please stay quiet Mayday, please stay quiet—you think to yourself, holding her closer to you, as you slide to the floor of the cupboard. It only just fit you both.

Then the door is getting harshly pulled open and your eyes widen. No, no, no. But then just as the masked man comes into view, his body is getting harshly lifted, his feet raising as blood bleeds out from his stomach. Your eyes widen.

Then he falls to the side, revealing a heaving Miguel. Your head knocks back against the cupboard back wall, as you hold Mayday tighter to you. You couldn’t let her see. Any of the blood, you wouldn’t let her see.

Miguel meets your gaze, just as Hobie, Pav, Gwen, Miles and Peter rush to a stop beside him, all staring into the cupboard.

You begin to shakily stand, still holding onto Mayday for dear life. You were scared. Your adrenaline slowly disappearing.

Peter rushes forward taking Mayday from you. He notices there isn’t a scratch on her and Peter is beyond relieved. “Make sure she doesn’t…see.” You say, sounding somewhat out of it as you blink, so your eyes would stay open.

Then Hobie is slipping his arm around your midriff, supporting your legs, as you gulped down arising tears. You wouldn’t cry. Not in front of everyone.

“What the hell was that?” For once there is no joke in Hobie’s tone.

Your eyes a blurring, but you wanted to stay awake. You hated how much your body could exhaust. “You were supposed to stay up here.” Miguel is saying, his breathing still heavy.

You know that you arriving back to the tech room, alerted that now dead masked man of where you were.

For once Miguel doesn’t mind that Hobie is holding you. He’s helping you. And though Miguel would rather help you, his hands are covered in blood—Hobie having used his surroundings and web to mainly fight them, his hands being rather clean from the red.

You half heartedly chuckle. “You can just say thanks.” You meet his gaze, a small smile edging your lips.

“Are they…” You drift off, Gwen filling in.

“They left. They aren’t dead. Some of them are. But the others…left.” She says, making you nod.

“Thank god.” You mutter out, the pain finally feeling like it can catch up to you. “And fuck…” You slightly push off of Hobie, shaking your bruised hand. “When were any of you gonna tell me that punching someone really fuckin’ hurts.”

“Well, usually punching someone with a metal head tends to hurt.” Pav says, raising his brows slightly.

“Eh.” You chuckle, continuing to flex your hand.

;;

Miguel didn’t leave your side when you went to medical, you getting stitched, and mended.

“Don’t sleep in here.” He says, gazing around at practically every spider person. The medical was of course packed.

“But the fire reached my room—“

“Not mine.” Miguel says, already slipping his arms around your body—though he keeps his hands, for the majority, off of you. His hands were still covered in blood, though dry, meaning the blood wouldn’t taint you, he still couldn’t.

“That’s fine—“

“Shut up, and move.” Miguel wasn’t looking for your acceptance, taking you to his room.

;;

Once inside, he shuts the door, leading you to sit on his bed. As you did, he had slightly begun to pace the length of his room.

“What are you doing?” You ask, watching his stressful state. “Can you stop?”

He shifts his gaze to you, semi stopping. His body was still tense, his jaw clenched. “Sit.” You say, gesturing to the chair. You narrow your gaze until he obeys, moving the chair to face you, as he took a seat.

Glass still slightly littered the ground, the slight scratch marks on the chair staying easily visible.

You noticed for a moment that he couldn’t look at you. His gaze instead getting caught up with his wrist. You glanced down at it, noticing a thin…bracelet? It was covered in blood, and he had begin to fiddle with it, making your brows furrow.

“What’s that?” You ask. But he still doesn’t meet your gaze, clenching his hand into a fist.

“Nothing.” He says. But it wasn’t nothing of course. It was your bracelet, the one he had found in your rooms doorway, back in your universe when you had went missing.

“I didn’t know you were one to wear jewellery.” You speak light heartedly. But he barely reacts. “Miguel.” You say, sighing. “Can you at least look at me?”

And it’s the slight sadness in your voice that makes him. He looks up and you’re shocked to see a million different emotions swirling in his eyes.

“Why did you do that?” He asks, now not looking away from your eyes.

“What?”

“That.” He hisses lowly. “You were supposed to stay in the tech room.”

“Miguel you do realise that I couldn’t have just stood there and literally watched…right?” You ask, seeing his gaze flicker everywhere on your face. “I saw something important, and thought i should help.”

“But you shouldn’t have.” He says.

“Yes, I should have…” You stand up now. Miguel moves to stand also, but you hold your hand out, making sure he stayed seated. “I want to help Miguel. I want to be of help.”

“Yeah, well you being of help nearly got you killed.” He snarls.

“Exactly the same as all of you.” You say, stepping closer to his seated self. “You guys go through so much dangerous stuff all the time. And finally when I can actually help you hate me for it.”

“Because you’re—“

“A weak human, yeah I got it. But I wanted to help. And It worked…none of you guys are dead!” You exclaim, breathing heavy.

Miguel stares up at you, his breathing close to matching yours.

“That is all I’ve ever wanted to do, Miguel.” You say. “Help.”

“You almost died out there.” His voice had begun to soften.

“And so did you!” Yours hasn’t yet, though.

He couldn’t resist. Slipping his hand under your thigh he pulled you towards him, making your body tumble. He caught you by a second grip on your other thigh, making sure you landed in a straddle over his lap. His legs were still a fraction spread, which made yours naturally spread further around him. This satisfied Miguel’s want to keep those legs spread. Wide and open for him.

He pulled you even closer, your body sliding along his thighs, right up against him. Your heart was beating like a drum in your ears. You couldn’t think. You couldn’t speak. All you could do was breathe and stare. Stare at Miguel’s piercing red eyes that now practically told you everything he hadn’t voiced yet.

Miguel stared at you, his eyes seeming to hood over on their own. You were yet again, so close. He could taste your breath. And he wanted to. God did he want to.

He’s sure it would taste so sweet. You would taste so fucking sweet. His clawed hands stayed wrapped around your thighs, as he began to lean in, his eyes focused on your freshly wet lips, your nervous habit. You were nervous. He met your gaze once more, before darting his eyes down again. He couldn’t stop leaning in.

Your heart has stopped, having been beating rapidly in your ears. You want to gulp down your nervousness but Miguel is now so close to your neck.

His warm breath fans over your skin as his mouth opens a fraction. His hands ran up your body, to grip around your waist. Then he leaned in, his lips attaching to the side of your neck. You heard him hum, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine.

His hands begun to slip under your shirt, the feel of your bare skin making him go practically insane. He couldn’t believe it. He began to slowly litter small kisses—at first—his breathing growing heavier and heavier.

Your chest was heaving as he pulled you tighter to him, his lips now pressing harder against your skin. When they turned open-mouthed you could feel the drag of his fangs, his tongue coming down to soothe forming bruises.

Your head had begun to roll back, your hands tightly gripped onto Miguel’s shoulders. “I couldn’t let you die, cariño.” He whisper-groaned into your neck. His panting breath only occasionally felt, because he couldn’t back away from your skin.

His kisses began to lead up to your jaw. You were flushed, your body hot, everywhere. “Miguel—“ you breathe out.

“Shh, I just wanna…I just…” but he couldn’t even finish the sentence as he reached to hover over your lips. His hand slipped to the back of your neck, his claws embedding themselves into your hair, as his other hand tightened a fraction around your waist.

Now you’re breathing hard, your eyes slightly glazed over, your mind utterly dazed as you stared at Miguel. “I just want to…”

You gulp. “Want to what?” You quietly asked, your own eyes flickering to his lips.

“I— carajo.” Was the last word he managed before his lips found yours, your head knocking back. Miguel wrapped his lips around your bottom, breathy groans easily escaping him, as he pulled you impossibly closer. His heart was beating on overdrive, nearly at a concerning tempo as he lapped at your mouth.

And god did you taste sweet. So fucking sweet. And he gets to feel you—have you. He doesn’t have a care in the world as long as you stayed this close. Right against him letting him keep you this close. Your tongue dragged across his bottom lip, soon finding his tongue. His head moved to push further against yours, as he swirled his tongue around your mouth.

Then your body slightly jolts. His hand that was gripping your waist had tightened to a point that his claws had cut you a fraction. Miguel immediately let your waist go, realising that his body’s reaction—tightening around you, was to make sure you wouldn’t leave. “I’m—“

But you’re cutting him off with another kiss, slightly raising on your knees, so that his head had to tilt up to stay kissing you. His hands slipped to wrap around your raised thighs. “Tell me you weren’t gonna apologise.” You spoke to his lips, leaning away a fraction.

But Miguel eagerly chased your mouth, managing to pull your head back down, with a swift grip to your hair. “Miguel—“

He shook his head, his lips brushing against yours. “If I say no, will you keep kissing me?” He tilted his head, lips still lightly brushing yours, as his tongue came out to lick your top lip. “Mm?”

“Yea—“ but Miguel cuts you off, kissing you hard as one of his hands stoked up and down your thigh. “Then I’m not sorry at all.” He muttered between kisses. He was addicted. That’s the simplest way to put it. Utterly addicted. “Dios…I’m not sorry.”

Your hands slipped around his neck, beginning to play with the ends of his brown hair, your fingers soon sinking to softly grip the strands. A breathy moan escapes Miguel’s lips at the feeling of your fingers, his mouth opening against your own. A small forming smile edged your lips at the reaction.

“Shut up.” He whispered, smashing his lips back to yours. His kisses had grown even more heated—if possible—spreading across your cheek, his nose brushing against your hair. “Dios, y/n, can I touch you…mm por favor…?” He asks, trying to pull your thighs back down onto him.

But you held your own, staying just out of reach—legs either side of him on the chair. When Miguel would much rather you pressed against him. Of course he was hard, aching almost painfully. “Y/n.” He lowly growled out.

You grabbed his chin, lifting his head up, as you teasingly pecked his lips. “I’ve never seen you beg, give me a moment to enjoy it.”

Miguel clenched his jaw as he harshly pulled your thighs further apart, making you gasp, landing right on top of him. He moved his hands to your hips, keeping you still, as his head slightly leant back at the feeling. “Mm…that’s it…” He whispered out.

You could feel his bulge right under you, making your core ache. Now you felt hot. And as you looked at a breathless Miguel, his chest heaving mismatched you couldn’t help but begin to slightly move your hips.

Miguel’s breathing hitches, his hands gripping your waist. “Y/n…”

“Shh.” You partially mocked, earning a small growl from Miguel. “Didn’t you say I had to do anything for you?” You moved your hips along him, grinding torturously. “This seems like it would certainly help.” Your tone is breathy, as your hips movements sends jolts through you both.

“For a…mission.” Miguel remembers the start of the deal—the conversation—correcting you, through heavy breaths. God, what were you doing…keep doing it.

“Which loosely means for you.” You copy his previous words.

His head slightly falls back. “Mierda, cariño…”

You go to place your hands on his chest, when his head comes back up, his grip slipping from your waist to your hips and managing to stop you. He leans towards your ear. “But do you really think I’m gonna let you grind on me like that? Make me pathetically reach my high with clothes…still on?”

Your breathing hitches. His hand reaches up your shirt again, but pauses by the side of your waist. Then before you know it, Miguel’s holding your thighs—wrapped around him—as he stands. You quickly wrap your hands around his neck thinking you would fall.

Miguel chuckles at the reaction, instead, effortlessly walking with you towards his bed. He leans forward, resting you down as his hands came to cage you in. You’re resting on your elbows, pushing a little higher up. Miguel leans even more forward, so that you’re forced to lean back with him.

“Lie back…eso es (that’s it)…that’s ma’ girl.” Miguel breathes, as your head rests back against his sheets. My girl. His girl. All of Miguel’s previous loud voices, the ones that had quietened when you hugged him have become one. Repeating the words—my girl, my girl, my girl.

my god, that was a trip. and finallyyyy! AHHH — I hope this is what you guys expected and hope you all liked it

I promise promise promise, I will carry on this smut on the next part <33 it was just getting so long—I couldn’t stop writing (I’m sorry guys I gotta keep eedging ya)

plus since it’s the last part (part 9) next, everything will be concluded, and all mysteries solved! coz that’s just plain cruel if I utterly leave you guys hanging

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