#sorry sorry this will be the last scruff post

[eddiebabygirldiaz]

eddie grew out the stubble so he can mark up buck's thighs and let natalia know who he really belongs to

[cxrsed-angel]

Overtime

pairing: Joel Miller x F!reader

rating: 18+

w.c: 2k

summary: You stay late after work with Joel at his construction office. (I suck at summaries, Joel and reader hookup in Joel's office after everyone leaves).

warning: No outbreak AU, Smut, P in V sex (unprotected), fingering, oral (male receiving), dbf ish!Joel, mention of age difference (Joel is like 40+, reader is 20+). Established relationship

a/n: first fic of 2025 🥳this is just porn with no plot that's been in my drafts sorry not sorry. Posting this in hopes it helps me get over my fear of posting fics on here and my forming hatred of this app. this was proof read by only me so sorry if they're mistakes. happy new year :)

You've been at the front desk all day organizing Joel’s clients for the projects and renovation, replying to emails, answering phones, doing your best to answer the questions you can, or forwarding the calls to Joel so he can explain what you can’t. 

 You’ve been his assistant at his construction office since you started college. Joel is a close friend of your dad’s and he had convinced Joel to hire you until you go back to college in the fall to help him organize and with his schedule. You answer the phone, reply to his emails, get his lunch, and do everyday assistant things. Instead, you found yourself bent over at his office desk as fucked you. Almost every day, after everyone had gone home for the day. 

Once you see everyone else has left and it was just you and Joel. You go to Joel’s office and knock on his door. You slowly open it and see him behind his desk on his computer. You take a second looking at him, the gray hair mixing with his brown hair, the little bit of grey coming in on his beard. You never really had a thing for older guys…until now. You see him looking at his computer through the black frame glasses on his nose. He looks up, noticing you standing in the doorway, taking his reading glasses off and setting them on the desk. 

“You can come in, don't worry. ‘Aint too busy.” His deep voice breaks you out of your thoughts of admiring him. You nod, closing the door behind you. He motions for you to come closer, and you waste no time going around his desk. You see emails and his digital ledger on the screen. Next to the computer, he has a large brown leather book, his physical ledger, because he’s yet to feel the need to go completely digital. 

“You know you could probably make this into a spreadsheet. I could help instead of having this double thing you got going on.” You suggest as you open the old ledger, flipping through it. “How long have you had this thing, the 90s, the 80s, oh my god, since Kennedy?” 

Joel closes it, rolling his eyes at the dig of his age and the systems he currently has. His hands go onto your waist, gently pulling you down to sit in his lap. 

“My system has lasted me this long, so I’ll stick with it. Thank you very much. If it were up to me, everything would've remained paper. Damn, computer is hard to read and makes my eyes hurt lookin’ at it all day.” He turns you towards him a bit, changing your focus away from his computer. You lean down, kissing Joel, feeling the scruff of his greying beard against his face. 

Feeling the blood rush in your body, the both of you have been waiting all day to have your hands on each other. He runs his hands up your skirt, bunching it up further on your thighs. You feel his bulge under you, growing harder as you continue making out passionately. His hands squeeze your thighs harder you feel his hard cock pressing against you. 

“Seeing you in this fucking tight skirt all day was killing me, sweetheart. I just wanted to take you in here and fuck you on my desk.”  

You continue kissing him, his hands moving down to your panties, his fingers tracing over your covered core, feeling your wetness. Joel kisses his neck. 

“So wet already?…” He pulls your underwear down, tossing it with your skirt on his office floor. 

His eyebrows raise, looking at you as his fingers rub along the outside of your folds. You shift, humping against his hand for more relief focusing on how good his finger felt rubbing your swollen and needy clit. 

You whine incoherently, mumbling at his words, words failing to form as you get more aroused. He slowly slides two of his fingers inside you, slowly pumping in and out of your aching pussy; hearing the wetness forming, you melt against him, your back pressing against his chest as he spreads your legs while you're sitting in his lap. 

“This is what you wanted, huh? Wanted me to give this needy pussy attention. This pretty little pussy needed me, I can tell? Wanted me to finger fuck under the desk while I’m talking to my clients?” you moan more as he slides a second finger stretching you out. He feels your wetness coat his finger as he thrusts them inside, curling up and reaching your sensitive spot. 

You cry out more. “Joel Joel, Joel!” moaning out his name, your mouth opens, forming an O as he continues fucking you with his fingers feeling your climax building, but the feeling fades as you feel his fingers leave your dripping pussy. You groan disappointedly as you feel. You pout, looking back at him at the arousal still clouding your brain.

“Relax, relax. I’ll give ya what you want soon.” he places a hand on your shoulder, gently moving you off the familiar seat of his lap. You look at him, your face flush as you feel the room getting hotter. 

He softly kisses you quickly before his hard cock straining through his jeans as you kneel in front of him, unbuckling his belt, unzipping his jeans, and pulling them down along with his boxers. He stares down at you, his eyes full of lust as he watches you spit in your hand before slowly stroking his big cock, teasing him. He rolls his eyes back as he leans in the chair. 

After jerking him off, for a little you place his hard length in between your lips. You slowly insert the tip of his cock in your mouth, sucking on it and tasting the salty precum on your tongue.  

Joel groans as you tease him, not being able to take it anymore. He shoves his dick deeper into your mouth, making you choke. You followed his pace, bobbing your head up and down the length of his shaft, using your hands to jerk off the rest of what you couldn't fit in your mouth. 

“That’s it, that’s it. Attagirl, Take it all. Know you can.” You listen, taking him deeper in the back of your throat, your eyes watering. You relax, hallowing your cheeks; his office is filled with the sound of you gaging around his cock. 

“F-fuck, sweetheart, your mouth feels so good. You enjoy this, aren’t ya, sucking the cock of a man twice your age?”

You nod, trying to agree as he continues using your mouth; you look up at him and see his eyes rolling back closed as his chest heaves, still praising you as you suck him off. His grunts and moans get louder; he starts fucking your mouth for a bit, thrusting his cock deeper before letting you come up to catch your breath, taking his cock out of your mouth. 

“Fuck baby…bet your dad didn’t expect you to be on your knees for me every day after work when he suggested you come work for me, huh.” 

You wipe your mouth as you hear his joke, still on your knees, his hand still on your head, rubbing your hair.  “Just don't let it slip out on guys' night after a few beers. Don't know who he’d be more mad at, me or you.” 

You push the thought of anyone finding out about you and Joel in the back of your mind; you don’t want to think about what your dad will say or how he’ll scold you for sleeping with his best friend and your boss. 

He laughs as he grabs your hand, helping you stand up; he kisses you sloppy, crashing his lips onto yours. Tasting himself on your lips. “Don’t worry, ain’t gonna tell him.” 

 He holds your waist, unzipping your skirt and helping you step out of it. He moves it out of the way before moving you towards the desk; he watches you bend over the desk, can’t resist the urge to stare at your ass, he squeezes it before landing another smack on it. 

“You ready, baby girl?” he asks softly, still caressing your lower back. You nod, looking back at him. 

“Yes, yes, Joel, please. I need you,” you whine, not being able to wait any longer. Instead of giving in to what you want, Joel laughs lightly. 

“Sorry, baby, I couldn't hear you; what do you need?” He taunts you as he runs a finger along your folds, making you whimper as frustrated as his teasing. 

“Joel! Oh my god, just fuck me-” Your snappy sentence is cut short, interpreted by his big cock slowly entering the tip inside you; both of you gasp as he pushes more of his length inside you. 

“You just don't know when to shut up, do you, baby? I told you I’d give you want.” His voice is deep and condensing, which arouses more if you're being honest. 

He moves his hips a bit more, and your moans fill his office. And you feel him bottom out inside you, but he doesn't move, letting you get used to his size. After a minute, you nod, letting him know you could move. He slowly moves his hips, thrusting inside you, and you moan more as you feel him deep inside. 

“F-Fuck Joel, you’re so big. Feel you so deep,” Joel growls as his hips start moving faster; he grips your hips tightly fucking into you more. Joel’s office desk rattles underneath you from the force Joel was fucking you. 

“I know, baby, I know, baby. God, You feel so good. How’re you so tight every time? ‘Feel you clenching ‘round me, sweetheart.” his thrust gets faster. 

“Fuck-fuck Joel right there.” you moan as his hard cock stretches you out. You hear him groan as he fucks you harder after hearing the name. He pushes you down onto his desk, moving his papers and construction plans out of the way, off to the side. You feel his hand grab one of your legs, lifting it up onto the desk. The new angle has you feel more of him deeper inside your sensitive core; the arousal builds as you feel your release building, and Joel can, too. 

“Fuck…Joel…I’m-I’m.” You moan and whine as Joel continues thrusting inside you, helping you reach your release. He reaches a hand in between your thighs and rubs your clit as he continues fucking into you, bringing you closer to your climax. 

“C’mon baby, I feel you squeezing ‘round me. Know you’re close. Cum for me, sweetheart.” 

 You feel the knot in your lower stomach and hold on the desk as you cum around Joel’s cock. Your orgasm hits hard, and closing your eyes, you shudder, coming down from your release. 

“That’s it honey, that’s it. Good girl, fuck baby, ‘m not gonna last much longer, Jesus-.” Joel grunts as his thrust gets more and more sloppier. Joel presses deep inside you. He leans forward, pressing his chest against your back as cums. His warm load releases inside your sensitive cunt. You both let out a moan together before relaxing against his desk. You feel him slide out of him, you breathing heavily. 

Joel slowly pulls out after taking a couple of seconds to catch your breath. He lets out a low groaning “Goddamn.” 

He sits back on the chair. He gently grabs your waist, pulling you into his lap. You turn, pulling Joel into a kiss.

“I love you, sweetheart, but we gotta head out before the alarm comes on.” You nod, kiss his cheek, and then down his neck, feeling his hands on your waist.

“You don’t know the alarm code to your own construction office?” you ask a bit skeptically, but Joel just laughs and hands your skirt to you from the floor. 

“I know the code, smartass, just don't feel like messing with the damn thing.” he explains as he’s cleaning you off with a tissue. You nod before leaving his lap, putting your skirt and underwear back on as Joel adjusts his pants. 

“Oh shit, almost forgot. The Smiths said they want to change the hardwood they chose because they don’t think it matches the new wallpaper and wanted to expand the kitchen..” Joel turns his computer off, grabs his coat, and his hand goes to your waist, leading you out of his office. He listens to you tell him about the client from earlier. Ushering you out the door to his truck. 

“Honey… I don't work after 5 p.m., so you don't work after 5 p.m., come on.” He opens the passenger seat of his truck before getting in the driver's seat.

“I know, I just need to write it down so I don’t forget my boss is a real hard ass.” Joel rolls his eyes at your teasing, as he pulls out of the office parking lot leaving, to take you home.

[warping-realities]

Bed and Breakfast (Repost)

"I can't believe you're gonna make me stay in a dump like that," said the gorgeous woman with an arrogant tone towards her boyfriend, not realizing the owner of the cozy little beach inn was eavesdropping.

"Babe, chill out, the place is actually pretty dope and seems super comfy. Plus, it’s got killer reviews on travel sites. We’ll be lucky if there’s even a spot for us here."

"We wouldn’t have to deal with this crap if you had booked a hotel ahead of time."

"Laura, sweetheart, you picked a trendy spot last minute during peak season; there’s no way we’d find a room, and yet you insisted on coming."

"Of course, all the big shots are here. What do you think my followers would say if I didn't show up? An influencer’s gotta stay on top of all the trends, Jeremy, and this is the hot spot right now—God only knows why," Laura shot back, making her boyfriend sigh before being interrupted by a cheerful and upbeat voice.

"Good evening! I’m Cintia, the owner of Cozy Cabin. Welcome! How can I help you?"

"Good evening, ma’am. I’m Jeremy Grant, and this is my fiancée, Laura. We’re looking for a place to crash."

"Oh no! I’m sorry, but we’re all booked up. Reservations have been closed for over two months; we’ve become super popular lately." The woman, who seemed to be of an age that was hard to pin down, responded. Though she showed signs of age, she had a vibe of joy and youth around her, at that moment tainted by genuine sadness at not being able to help. That turned into indignation and anger when the pretty blonde in front of her let out a dismissive giggle followed by a sharp jab at her fiancé. But before Cintia could say anything, Jeremy quickly jumped in.

"Isn’t there even the slightest chance, Cintia? It would just be for one night so Laura can snap some pics and post them; she’s a digital influencer."

"Really? I’ve never heard of you, darling," Cintia said, taking the moment to get back at the rude young woman, who couldn’t help but fire back.

"I work with a younger crowd; it's understandable if someone your age doesn’t know me," Laura replied, making Jeremy cringe and a dangerous glint appear in Cintia’s eyes.

"Ah, trust me, I know how to spot a real influencer with clout. Right now, we’ve got Miguel Ramos, the famous fitness influencer, crashing here; it’s his fifth year visiting us during this time. Which gives me an awesome idea to help you out. If you’ll excuse me for a sec, I’ll be back with some info."

"Stupid hag," Laura muttered bitterly as soon as Cintia left the room.

"Baby, you kinda poked the bear..."

"Don’t you dare take her side, Jeremy. How could she compare me to that fairy Miguel Ramos?"

"Laura, watch your mouth. I’ve heard a lot about Miguel Ramos; he was a respected personal trainer before he blew up as a fitness influencer and has a solid follower base."

That was a huge understatement, and they both knew it. While Laura’s follower count hadn’t even hit the hundreds of thousands mark, Miguel’s had already smashed through the million barrier. And obviously, the vain woman didn’t like being reminded of that and soon found a reason to roast her fiancé.

"Jeremy, that scruff of yours looks awful! How many times have I told you to keep your face smooth? My followers prefer you to match my look!"

Jeremy didn’t know if that was true; Laura’s followers really did hype up how well they matched in appearance. But he couldn’t help but wonder if the fact that Laura dressed him in similar styles to hers, combined with her nagging to keep his face smooth and his blond hair styled in neat curls, made them look so much alike that some people thought they were siblings instead of a couple. It was proof enough of a totally narcissistic nature, as the class bullies loved to shout. But every time those thoughts popped up, Jeremy quickly shoved them aside; he had long accepted that he’d be nobody without his girlfriend, to the point of giving up his career as a gym teacher to follow her, making sure all her wishes were met and canceling himself out in every way. Because he was dead sure he wasn’t worthy of her love and that no one in the world could love him like she did. It was exactly because he thought all this that when he saw Cintia return with a satisfied look on her face, he replied calmly.

"Yeah, babe, that’s the first thing I’ll do once we hit the room."

"My dears, I found a solution; it’s not perfect, but it should help for today," Cintia started with a playful grin and that spark in her eyes. "We have a few rooms with extra beds that aren’t being used, and two of our guests have kindly offered those beds to you for a couple of nights. In two days, Mrs. Goldschmitt will be heading home, and her room will be free if you want to extend your stay."

"You mean you want us to crash in separate rooms?" Laura asked, indignantly.

"It was the best I could do, dear. Of course, if that doesn’t work for you, feel free to scram and find somewhere else," Cintia replied with a frosty smile.

"No, no, that’s cool; we’ll take it!" Jeremy quickly interrupted, wanting to avoid more drama and losing the only place they found.

"Great! Follow me, then; I’ll have one of the staff take your bags to your respective rooms," Cintia said, looking genuinely pleased as she led them down a hallway and a flight of stairs to the first room. She knocked on the door, which was promptly opened by a handsome Latino man in his thirties, with muscles that popped under a fitted white t-shirt and a friendly smile on his rugged, bearded face.

"Goodnight," he said simply, his voice oozing masculinity.

"Miguel, darling! These are Jeremy and Lau..."

"You don’t need to introduce me; I’m sure Miguel knows who I am," Laura interrupted while Miguel stared at her like she was some exotic creature that had just landed in front of him.

"Laura... apparently she’s a digital influencer," Cintia continued as if she hadn’t been rudely interrupted. "Jeremy and Laura, this is Miguel Ramos, the guy we talked about earlier, who kindly agreed to give Jeremy the extra bed in his room."

"Thanks for the lovely intro, Cintia; it’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Laura, and you too, Jer..." Miguel started, only to be cut off by Laura.

"I think our followers would love a collab from us."

"Um, sure, we can chat about that tomorrow, Laura. I believe you both are wiped out now, and Cintia still needs to take you to your room."

"Yeah, yeah, you’re right; we’ll sort everything out tomorrow. Shall we bounce then?" Laura wrapped up, talking to Cintia without even saying goodbye to Jeremy, who then stepped up to his girlfriend and kissed her on the cheek.

"Good night, love; sleep tight!" he said before entering the room and watching his fiancée being led away by Cintia.

.....

"Welcome, Jeremy; unfortunately, you’ll have to take the single bed."

"Thanks, Miguel; you didn’t have to do that or pretend to know Laura."

"Ahh, I’m sorry about that, but I thought it was better; I know how sensitive some influencers can be about not being recognized. I’ve never really cared about that, but I’ve seen some awkward situations, to say the least. And about the bed, it’s just a bed; I’m not really using it, and Cintia asked me for a favor; she’s a good friend and helped me out a lot when... anyway, you’re welcome here."

"Still, you didn’t have to do any of that; thanks a ton," Jeremy replied as he prepped to crash, thinking about what Miguel had left unsaid. It was no secret that his breakup with his long-time boyfriend, a big-time film actor, had been a massive bummer, so much so that he had stayed out of the spotlight for months until he was spotted on the beach close to where they were, which is why the interest in the place had exploded. The only news was that he wouldn’t be staying in some fancy hotel but in Cintia’s cozy little inn. Laura should be stoked, Jeremy thought before dozing off; she went looking for copper and apparently struck gold.

Already lying in the single bed, Jeremy found the guts to say something else.

"Miguel, seriously, thanks a bunch; I really appreciate your kindness... but... well... I apologize in advance if Laura throws a fit about the sleeping arrangements... she’s used to getting her way, and... well... there might be some jealousy or something..."

"She doesn’t need to worry, Jeremy; I’m not into guys skinnier, smaller, and younger than me," Miguel joked, but it made Jeremy flinch.

"I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to offend you."

"You didn’t offend me, Jeremy; I was just messing around. You can relax in the room; as far as I’m concerned, it’s as much yours as mine. Have a good night."

…..

The morning sun streamed into the inn's bedroom, causing Jeremy to roll over in bed and wake up, rubbing his eyes, treated to a stunning sight: Miguel in just white underwear, his sculpted body on display, staring intently at the bedroom wall like he was lost in thought. At that moment, Jeremy felt something he never thought he would feel upon seeing another dude: a pang of desire, mixed with a familiar sensation in his dick that he only associated with seeing Laura’s naked beauty. His surprise was so intense that he moved abruptly, waking Miguel from his daydream.

"Good morning; sorry if I woke you; I forgot to close the curtains last night."

"No problem," Jeremy replied, hiding his erection with a pillow.

"Anyway, I’m already heading out for my morning run before breakfast."

"Oh man, I miss doing that!" Jeremy commented.

"Do you do this too?"

"Yeah, I was a physical educator just like you, but since I started following Laura... she’s not a morning person and gets all cranky when I wake her up early... anyway, I’ve been running on the treadmill while she shoots her videos at the gym."

"If you want to train with me..."

"Nah, man, thanks, but no. I’ll catch some more Z’s," Jeremy replied, still trying to hide his erection.

"Then I’ll see you later. Sweet dreams," said a fully dressed Miguel as he left the room, leaving Jeremy alone with his confusing thoughts.

…….

To say the trip had been a letdown for Laura would be a massive understatement. First, Jeremy couldn’t even make a simple reservation and had the nerve to blame her when he should’ve seen this coming. Then there was the beach itself; she had never liked the sun and sea, and just thinking about sand made her skin crawl. But unfortunately, thanks to Miguel Ramos’ star-studded divorce and his apparent bad taste, that little beach was the hot spot for the summer. Ending up in the same inn as him could be a golden opportunity, but for that, she had to deal with the arrogant old bat who owned the place, the fact that her fiancé was sleeping in the same room as that gay dude, and the annoying roommate she was sure had been chosen by the old hag just to irritate her. And it was with a look reflecting her inner bitterness that she waited for her fiancé to show up for breakfast, which only made her angrier, since she wasn’t used to waiting and stubbornly refused to call him. After all, he should know his place and duties!

It was with that sour expression that Miguel found her after taking a shower and getting dressed as quietly as possible to avoid waking the still-snoozing Jeremy. Seeing that expression made him seriously consider making a run for it from the breakfast room without being seen, especially since he hadn’t had a great first impression of Laura, which was confirmed when he checked out the kind of content she produced, with Jeremy looking more like an accessory to her outfit than an actual boyfriend, raising the suspicion that maybe the other guy was stuck in an abusive relationship like he himself had experienced until recently. But before he had time to bolt, their eyes locked, and a practiced smile crept onto her face, not quite reaching her predatory eyes. Knowing that game all too well, Miguel plastered on a smile just as fake as hers and approached her table.

"Good morning, Miguel; I hope Jeremy’s snoring wasn’t too much of a bother," Laura said, kicking off the conversation in the worst way possible and making Miguel’s smile fade.

"On the contrary, it didn’t bother me at all; Noah snored way worse," he replied, a look of irritation briefly crossing Laura’s face due to the comparison with her ex-husband. Wasn’t it enough that her boyfriend was sleeping in the same room as him?

"You’re too kind, but it’s my fiancé you’re talking about; no one knows him like I do."

"Of course, and if you’ll let me say, checking out your posts on social media it’s clear to see all your influence on him," Miguel replied, barely hiding the sarcasm in his voice.

"Thanks. It was hard work," Laura shot back without realizing the dig hidden in his comment. "Speaking of work, when are we gonna do our collab?" she concluded.

"We’ll definitely figure something out," he replied in turn, knowing that as far as he was concerned, that was never gonna happen. "If you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment now. Maybe you should check on Jeremy; when I left the room, he was out cold. It seemed to me like he hadn’t slept that well in ages." He finished with a bright, genuine smile before exiting the room, leaving a fuming Laura behind.

Although Miguel’s statement was meant to poke at Laura, it wasn’t too far from the truth. Jeremy had slept like a baby and didn’t even stir when Miguel returned to the room and got ready for breakfast. If he had woken up, he would’ve been mortified, because he ended up ripping off his pajama shirt in his sleep, and without realizing it, he reached for his erection that had returned with Miguel’s presence in the room, while his mind filled with one of the most different and vivid dreams he’d ever had. In the dream, he found himself lying completely naked on a beach not too different from the one the inn was on, and with the sun bathing his body, a beautiful blonde woman approached and began kissing his naked body. He couldn’t tell if it was Laura or not, because each kiss in the dream sent him into an ecstasy so intense that it overshadowed any sense other than pleasure, so much so that he only realized the figure in his dream had shifted to a muscular, bearded man with his dark body glistening with sweat in the morning sun, just seconds before he was jolted awake by the indignant voice of his fiancée.

"Jeremy, so this is what you were doing instead of meeting me for breakfast? Jerkin’ off in that queer’s room? How disgusting!" Laura barked, her face twisted in outrage as she found her boyfriend in that compromising position. Jeremy, caught off guard, shot back without thinking.

"Never use that kind of word in my presence again, Laura; if there’s anything disgusting, it’s those expressions!"

"Jeremy, how dare you correct me! Disgusting, yes, and even more disgusting are the habits of these faggots, but apparently, you’re already pretty used to it, huh? Jerk off in one of their bedrooms? And you didn’t even shave that gross beard. As if you just cut your hair without talking to me, I’m at my limit!" she fired back, causing all the layers of inhibition to come crashing down on a now more awake Jeremy.

"I’m sorry, babe; I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. Give me a few minutes to get ready, and we can have breakfast together," he said, falling back into his servile habits as he struggled to understand what she meant about his beard and hair.

"Well, you can have your breakfast alone. And you don’t even need to come with me to the beach; I’ll take Kayla to help me. Make the most of your day without my presence!" she replied angrily, storming out of the room and leaving a confused and still groggy Jeremy behind.

He, in turn, stood up and stretched, losing his balance a bit as he felt the strange sensation that he seemed to be a good few inches taller, which he knew was nonsense, since no one grows overnight other than the fact that he had been this height since the start of his adult life, which had helped him in many volleyball and basketball games when he was younger. Other activities he missed but couldn’t find time in his day to practice. He had never resented Laura for these things, but deep down, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of irritation for having given up pretty much all his interests for hers. Shaking his head in an attempt to shove those intrusive thoughts aside, he headed to the bathroom and took a long shower, knowing it was pointless to look for his girlfriend while she was in that mood; poor Kayla, whoever she was, would have to put up with Laura that morning, he thought with uncharacteristic sarcasm as he soaped the six-pack abs on his torso, this time without trying to shake that thought away. After stepping out of the shower, he looked at himself in the mirror; for someone who could no longer stick to a strict workout routine, he looked pretty damn good; he was lean but built, and his short beard accentuated the angles of his face, framed by his golden curls.

Maybe it was time for Laura to learn to appreciate the boyfriend she had better, he thought, leaving the bathroom without shaving, before changing and getting ready to enjoy a morning of sun and sea without Laura’s constant complaints and orders, which without a doubt was the best thing that could have happened, said a new invasive thought that once again did not go away.

……..

Jeremy wandered along the seawall for several minutes, feeling the sand beneath his feet, the scent of the sea breeze filling his lungs, and the sun’s rays bathing his fair skin, even though he knew he risked getting burned; it felt too good to let go. After wandering for a long time, he sat down on the beach and simply let himself be engulfed by it all, a wave of peace and completeness washing over him. Without realizing that the longer he stayed there, the less white his skin became, turning to a golden summer tone, while his muscles expanded slightly, giving him the look of someone who worked out regularly and carefully. Lost in his own mind he found himself searching for Miguel Ramos' name on social media, and getting lost in the other man's posts.

And there he would have stayed without noticing the changes if he hadn’t been interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Hey, roomie, watch out for a burn on your skin!"

Looking up he came face to face with the target of his interested scrutiny in all his glory with a beautiful smile plastered on his face.

"I may not have your Latin genes, Miguel, but it’s been a hot minute since I’ve burned!" he replied, smiling, as that strange feeling invaded him again.

"Still, the sun around here is way stronger than what you’re used to. Let me help you," Miguel replied, approaching with a tube of sunscreen in his hands. "That is, if you don’t mind."

Jeremy did care, not because of any prejudice but because of the fear of what that closeness would make him feel, not to mention the erection that threatened to return. But at the same time, he couldn’t resist that offer.

"No problem; I think you’re exaggerating, but Laura will be a total nightmare if I burn; she already hates my skin being so tanned."

"What nonsense; your skin is gorgeous; that tan pops real nice against your blonde hair; it gives you a healthy vibe, especially with those defined muscles."

"Thanks, dude; it’s nice to hear a compliment from... hummm," he groaned when he felt the other guy’s strong hands massaging his back.

"Something wrong?" Miguel asked.

"No... no... it’s just that the sunscreen was cold."

"Ah, I’m done. Just a little more down here," Miguel said, his hands moving toward Jeremy’s buttocks, making him tense up.

"Okay, do you want me to apply it on your front?"

"No, you don’t need to; I’ll handle that myself," Jeremy quickly responded, taking the sunscreen from Miguel’s hand without even thinking about those manly hands being so close to his cock.

"And where’s Laura? I thought you were helping with her content."

Thinking about his girlfriend brought an unexpected wave of irritation to Jeremy, like a cloud blocking out the morning sun.

"We had a blowout earlier... she did what she always does, said what she wanted, and bailed on me; I guess hoping I’d chase after her... but not this time... she can fend for herself with her new BFFO," he replied with a touch of bitterness that didn’t go unnoticed by Miguel.

"Relationships can be a real pain sometimes."

"Ours isn’t, but I’m starting to think it’s just because I’m used to canceling myself out for her."

Miguel, who had already picked up on that, chose not to comment.

"Anyway, we should catch up later and sort this out; I still love her, of course, but some things are gonna have to change in our relationship."

"So how about we hit that run now, a little return to your old self?"

"Are you sure you’ll keep up with me, with all this extra size and already running before..."

"Boy, show some respect; I’m not one of the most well-known personal trainers in the world for nothing."

"Then we’ll see!" Jeremy shot back, getting up and taking off running.

……

Laura trudged through the beach sand with disgust. Her morning, like the rest of the trip, had been a total drag. Kayla was pleasant company, sharing the same interests as her, though she was in a lower tier with only a few tens of thousands of followers. Still, she expected Laura to return the favors she did by asking her to take pictures and film videos of her. Simply unbearable. And it was all Jeremy’s fault, obviously. She still couldn’t believe her useless boyfriend hadn’t come looking for her, and even worse, it was her forced to hunt him down again in that damned sand for the second time that day.

With that feeling, she watched two muscular dudes running from the beach edge towards the sea while laughing loudly and then diving in. A ridiculous and childish behavior in her book. So what was her surprise when she saw that one of those guys, the tanned blonde with a pompadour and a faded side cut, sporting a full beard just as blonde, smile and approach her with his muscular, sun-kissed body still glistening from the seawater.

"Hey babe, how was the morning?"

"Jeremy, how dare you leave me hanging like that! And that beard, you said you were gonna trim it! And your hair??? What the hell is this?"

"No hell, Laura. They look the way I like!"

"But not how my followers and I expected! You’re almost bald! That tan and those bulging muscles just don’t cut it!"

"Don’t blow it out of proportion, Laura; if I decide to shave all my hair, I will. Your followers have nothing to do with how I choose to style my hair or beard."

"Of course, it has everything to do with it; you’re my boyfriend; you affect how people see me!"

"Apparently, that’s the only thing I’m good for, how I make others perceive you."

"And how would it be any different? I make a living off this; I’m an influencer, and my boyfriend needs to be on brand with me."

"I’m not your accessory, Laura."

"Well, babe, in the end, it’s like you are!"

"So I don’t know if I even wanna keep this relationship going," he replied, turning his back on a furious Laura.

"Jeremy! Don’t you dare! Jeremyyyy....!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, but he didn’t look back and walked aimlessly toward the other side of the beach, under the watchful eye of Miguel Ramos.

…..

Jeremy wandered the beach for several minutes, trying to calm the influx of thoughts. He was torn between the despair of losing the woman he thought he loved and the growing contempt for that same woman. How could he have canceled himself out for so long? How could he not see who she was? And at the same time, she had been his life for the past few years; how could he live without her? There’s no way he could do that! Deciding to run back after her and humble himself for her forgiveness, he started sprinting. He only stopped when he heard the voice that made him start to associate with that strange feeling, a mix of desire and discomfort.

"Hey, Big Guy, what’s the rush?" asked a grinning Miguel, sitting on a bench at a beach bar.

"Sorry, Miguel; I need to find Laura!"

"And what’s the point in talking to her with your head all hot? Wait for you two to cool off."

"You don’t get it!"

"Ah, I get it. I get it so much that I’m gonna offer you the two things you need most right now: company and a few shots of tequila!"

"I don’t know, man..."

"Relax, dude, and follow me," Miguel said, grabbing Jeremy by the arms and leading him to a table at the bar.

…..

"I shouldn’t get in the middle of your relationship with your girlfriend. But I recently went through a messy divorce. And honestly, it took me a long time to realize I was in an abusive relationship," Miguel said to a downcast Jeremy.

"I’m not in a relationship like that; I love Laura," Jeremy replied, but with way less conviction than he wanted to show.

"And does she return that love? Does she love you the same way you love her?"

"Of course..."

"Really? Be honest with yourself if you don’t wanna be honest with someone you barely know."

"I want to believe that, but..."

"But you have doubts. Let me propose a game: I’m gonna ask you some questions about relationships, and for every positive answer from you and me, we’ll down a shot of tequila; I bet we’ll polish off a bottle in no time."

"First question: Have you ever felt like you were putting way more into this relationship than your partner?"

Both took a shot, and though neither noticed, Jeremy’s tan deepened, reaching a caramel shade very close to Miguel’s.

"Second question: Have you ever felt belittled by your partner?"

Another shot for both. And now Jeremy had shot up a few inches taller than Miguel.

"Third question: Have you ever felt like you’re nothing more than an accessory to your partner, that they don’t even see you as a person but as an object?"

Another shot. Another change. Jeremy’s muscles swelled, surpassing Miguel’s size and reaching the proportions of an amateur bodybuilder. The bottle was already half empty, but both men, who weren’t small, were already pretty tipsy, as that level of drinking wasn’t part of either of their habits.

"One more... one more..." a drunken Miguel said, looking extremely distorted in Jeremy’s vision. "Have you ever felt like you’re in this relationship out of fear... scared that you’re not good enough... that you can’t be loved by someone else... and that your partner takes advantage of that to keep you stuck with them?"

Another shot, and Jeremy’s already blurry vision began to swirl as a wave of anxiety took hold of him for finally admitting those truths, even while drunk. Miguel was spinning in front of him, and he felt an immense urge to get up and bolt, but when he did, he fell to the ground.

"Jeremy, Jeremy..." he heard the voice in the distance, that voice which stirred so many feelings within him. "Jeremy..." a voice that made him realize he could still desire and be desired... "Jer...." the voice that made him tingle just hearing it. "Jav..." the voice of the man he was in love with but couldn’t admit.

"Javier, get up; is everything cool?"

And Javier stood up amidst laughter.

"It’s all good, Miguel; it takes way more than a shot of tequila to take down a man my size," he replied with a grin, sitting back down at the table. At the same time, he ran his hands through his shiny black beard.

"Let me ask the question now," Javier said, beaming wider. "Do you think you’re ready to ditch this relationship and move on to better things?"

One more shot for both.

…..

Javier lay back on a couch of the exclusive rooftop bar Miguel that Miguel reserved just for the two of them, feeling his head spinning. While his roommate spent some not-so-productive time feeling the same way sitting on the toilet. As he tried hard not to toss his cookies, he felt his phone buzz. When he looked at the screen, he noticed there were tons of messages and calls from an unknown number. Choosing to deal with it when he was in better shape, he closed his eyes and thus didn’t see each of those messages and calls vanish from his records.

With his head still spinning, he slipped into a restless sleep filled with rapidly changing dreams, until again he dreamed of that slim, stunning blonde. In the dream, she lay down on him again and started kissing his naked body, but without provoking any reaction in him, nothing, no excitement, no pleasure, until once again the smooth woman’s skin gave way to the rough sensation of a beard brushing against his body, and it was Miguel who kissed him, reigniting the flame of desire within him. While he slept, he moaned with excitement, a powerful erection between his legs, until he finally woke up feeling Miguel’s real mouth wrapped around his swollen cock. Trapped in that feeling of pleasure, he pulled the other man closer to him, being overtaken by the now familiar sensation of raw desire.

After hours of wild sex, Javier sat on the edge of the couch. with the strange feeling that he had forgotten something, as usual when this happened he found himself mentally going over his posing routine for his next competition.

Every fiber of his body had been honed with the utmost dedication and commitment, and soon he would be on stage to put all that work to the test. He ran his hand through his raven hair and finished the motion with his soft trimmed beard. He knew he’d have to shave it before the performance, but he was reluctant because Miguel liked him that way. Speak of the devil, Miguel at that moment repositioned himself on the couch and smiled.

"A penny for your thoughts," said the smaller and younger man, but who had still earned the position of his coach and Javier’s heart.

"It’s no biggie, Mig; I was just checking myself out and thinking it’s a shame to shave; you like it so much..."

"Javi, I want you with or without a beard; I don’t care how you look; I care about being with you."

"So you mean if I were smaller and skinnier, you’d still be with me?"

"Maybe you wouldn’t have caught my eye right off the bat, but like I said, I care about the person you are; the man I fell for, and if he gains or loses weight, that’s not gonna change."

"Thanks, babe; that’s really nice to hear," Javier replied.

"You know what else is nice? Your posing routine, show it to me babe."

"You've seen it a hundred times, babe."

"What can I do if I can't get enough of watching my hot fiancé flex his muscles for me?" Miguel said with a mischievous smile, making a big smile spread across Javiers face, who even tried to pose seriously, crossing the covered area of ​​the lounge towards the balcony, but failing miserably and loving every second of it as he heard the whistles and flirtations of the passionate man he had chosen to have by his side.

……

The afternoon sun shone brighter than ever, but even that didn’t seem to brighten a sunburned Laura’s mood as she gossiped with Kayla at the beach bar while they discreetly watched Miguel and Javier talking.

"Is this a good time? They seem to be having a spat," Kayla asked her friend.

"Just because they’re serious doesn’t mean they’re fighting. If we consider their social media, they’re living the dream," Laura replied.

"You know as well as I do how misleading social media can be."

"Still, this is our chance to collab with them; it’s not every day we get to work with two of the biggest fitness influencers in the game."

"Smile; they’re looking this way!" said Kayla, making both of them flash identical fake smiles, returned by a nod from the fitness couple of the year, who then got up and headed toward the beach.

"There goes our shot," Laura grumbled.

"Don’t sweat it, girl; people like you always get what’s coming to them," said a smiling Cintia, who was passing by before positioning herself at the bar counter and grinning.

A grin that widened when she saw Miguel and Javier together on the beach sharing a passionate kiss. If there was something she took pride in, it was a job well done, and at her inn, that meant way more than just a bed and breakfast.

[mickyschumacher]

[GORGEOUS!]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you were in love with f1's beloved honey badger and you had been for almost year. but why in the world had you instead fallen for his teammate? or in which infidelity has laid it's sticky little hands on you.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: slight angst, infidelity naturally, falling out of love, steamy makeout sesh, suggestive content, pining, sad boy hours for daniel, lando being kind of a sneaky bastard, age-gap between reader and boys (8 years for dan and 2 years for lan), reader born in australia, set in 2020/2021, false or incorrect marine biology lingo and protocols lol, mention of crossiant horner, poor explanation of f1, mentions of insecurity, proof-read...ish

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: daniel ricciardo x marine biologist!female reader, lando norris x marine biologist!female reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4k+

𝐀/𝐍: i felt bad for not posting so here's me digging into my reserves! written when i did more song-based fics!! i wish life wasn't so busy 🤧 i have started a few thingsssssss but it's definitely going to be a while before i post them sorry 😣

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

You, honestly, were a normal girl. Mundane as mundane gets. Never once had you imagined of cameras, headlines and the need for a PR specialist in your life.

But it's what you had gotten. That's what Daniel Ricciardo came with.

You had met the Australian on pure accident. It was late 2020 and the season had just come an end. Hamilton was a six-times World Champion and Daniel had his last season with Renault. He hadn't got the result he wanted but he was optimistic about his future with McLaren. So eventually, he headed home to Australia for the Christmas holidays.

Now you would like to consider yourself a well-versed Australian. Especially considering you were born there. Robert Irwin was the most beloved Australian for years to come and Margot Robbie and Chris Hemsworth were your Aussie reps in America.

Somehow, however, you had never really got F1 or Formula One. That's not to say you hadn't heard of it. Honestly, for the past few years it was difficult to pass Albert Park in the summer of March without it flashing in front of your eyes. But if someone were to ask you anything about it, you would blink blankly and apologise.

Which is exactly what you did in early December. You were out having lunch with your closest friends at a local cafe, catching up on the year in the fresh yet skin-damaging Aussie sun.

You were in midst conversation when a brunette girl politely interrupted you. "Hi, sorry. This is going to sound really weird. I'm doing this on a bet. But do all three of you know that man over there? In the hat?”

You looked over to her table full of people. It seemed like she was with her family and friends. You and your friends zoned on the man in the hat, a guy who was trying to not make it obvious that he was aware of what was going on.

You scrutinised him carefully and unsurprisingly, you didn’t know him. Surprisingly, you did find that he was attractive. The curly hair, the scruff… you wondered whether he was actually Australian because no men in Australia looked like that.

Your two friends nodded while confirming with one another. “It’s Daniel, right? The driver?” One of them asked.

Your other friend hummed in agreement.

The brunette looked over at you. You blinked at her as your face slowly morphed into an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry. I don’t know.”

The brunette, which you expected to be somewhat sad about it, ended up smiling while your friends’ faces dropped.

“Thank you! Oh my god. You have no idea what you’ve just done!” The brunette laughed loudly, capturing the attention of her table. She pointed at the man in the hat, clutching her stomach. “She doesn’t know who you are, Danny. Take that!”

Similarly to your friends, the male’s face dropped. He looked at you and tilted his head.

When Daniel actually saw you for the first time, he was in shock. Not the type of shock of an Aussie not knowing who he was. But rather the shock of being in the presence as someone as beautiful as you.

Your eyes were tantalising and your apologetic expression was cute.

He waved a hand in dismissal. “It’s okay. I’m just an F1 driver.”

You nodded in slow understanding. Maybe you had in fact seen his posters in Albert Park. Honestly, you couldn’t be sure. Life as a marine biologist was busy and all over the place. Recognising celebrities or athletes was kind of the last thing on your mind.

━━━━━━━━━━━

That day you went home with the expectation of a normal tomorrow. One where you were out at the ocean and exploring the waters you had loved so much.

You wish you could say it came as a shock to see that same curly haired man on the wharf, but given the current temperatures that heavily contrasted your winter, it was reasonable as any other Aussie here.

What you didn’t expect was you passing him to get to your boat and then hearing a voice enter the air. “Hey! Excuse me. Sorry. You’re the girl from yesterday, right?”

You turned to the man, hand over your eyes to protect yourself from the harsh rays and take a closer look at him. Just in case it wasn’t him.

“Uh, yeah? You’re the driver, right?”

Daniel gave a wide smile, extending out his hand. “I’m Daniel. Daniel Ricciardo.”

Oh my. What a smile he had. The type to make you feel happy just by looking at it. You couldn’t even help but smile in response. You reached out to shake his hand, not ready to feel a weird sort of spark between the two of you.

“I... I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

Daniel slowly removed his hand from yours, grabbing any last second he could. He eyed the briefcase and scuba gear in your hands. “You diving?”

You looked at your equipment. “Well, testing. I’m a marine biologist. Although, I guess I’m still diving.”

Daniel pursed his lips. Now he had to get to know you. You were beautiful and a marine biologist. An Aussie dream.

“Oh yeah? What are you testing?” He queried with a raised brow,

“Oh! Uh, currently things like the local fish populations in decline. Their habitat. Whether they’re safe or not. Algae growth. Predators. pH levels. All the fun stuff...” You sheepishly trailed off once you realised you began rambling.

You didn’t know but in that moment Daniel was in awe of you. The twinkle in your eyes that rose once you talked about your work. Like your work was your passion. That’s how he felt about F1.

You watched Daniel nod as if he were actually interested. “Do you mind if I come with? I won’t contaminate anything. Promise.”

You mended your brows together. It wasn’t uncommon for people to ask to join. But the way Daniel said it… like it was something he had to do or he would regret it for the rest of his life, you couldn’t help feel compelled. “Um, yeah. Do you not have to be on the road or something though? ‘Cause your a driver?”

“Oh F1 only goes between March and November. We’re on holiday at the moment. Well sort of.”

“Oh,” you mumbled out cluelessly. Your cheeks burned with a tinge of embarrassment. How had you managed to get through all these years of living and not known about this?

Daniel laughed lightly at the reddening of your cheeks. Just when he though he could find you any cuter. “Don’t worry. I’ll teach you F1. And you can teach me the ocean.”

So the two of you went into your boat. The sun beat down onto you so harshly that for most of it, you had retreated to driving the vessel in the shade as Daniel sat next to you.

It had gone so well that this, whatever it was, became a regular occurrence after you exchanged numbers that day.

You were learning a lot about him and his job. He was actually Italian-Australian. He started this passion with go-karting. You found out F1 wasn’t just racing but it was racing to another extreme. 300 kph. God, getting your car to 100 kph for the open road was thrill enough for you.

That made Daniel wheeze with laughter and promise he would take you for a drive in a sports car to get a taste of the speed he craved for.

Apparently F1 had 10 teams, each with 2 drivers. In each of the teams, the drivers had the same car to drive, cars that were constructed originally by each team. The point of the races were for two championships. The Driver’s World Championship, the title the driver wanted to win, and the Constructors’ Championship, the title everyone from the driver to the team strategist wanted to win. They were calculated by the amount of points received by the drivers in the races.

All the races were settled through a long weekend of sorts. Fridays were for practices to see how the car was on the track as they had different conditions per track. Saturdays were for qualifying. Here, Daniel would push the car to its limits to get the fastest lap time as the drivers were ranked to then get a position for the actual race tomorrow. Sundays were where they raced for points.

All of it was slightly complex, especially with the penalties and rules that they followed. Buy you seemed to get the gist of it.

Daniel had learnt that you had grown up in Australia and like him had to travel a lot for your work. Weirdly, some times his race dates would match up with your travelling. Daniel chose to take that as a sign. You were 8 years younger than him, taking him by a slight surprise. You were 23 and he was 31. But it didn’t seem like it mattered to you. Communication between the two of you was a smooth sail.

Daniel even opened up about his time with Red Bull. A whirl of bad and annoying memories. But when you had said that you would like to see Christian Horner step on to your boat and throw him overboard into a tank of piranhas, only for thirty seconds of course, Daniel had never laughed harder.

━━━━━━━━━━━

By the billionth time you had hung out, the sun was setting in the evening, providing a refreshing cold breeze to match the heat. Christmas was close soon. And Daniel was aching to ask you out.

He had to go into this next season of driving knowing he had you by his side. Even his own family was pushing him to ask. Especially his sister, Michelle, who had dubbed herself the cupid as she was the very brunette who had technically introduced you two, or so she claimed.

The both of you had finished a dive and were heading to Daniel's car. You were supposed to have dinner with his family on this fine evening.

"You good, Danny?" You looked over to the man. Daniel, for the loud and outgoing person he was, was being rather quiet today. You couldn't really put your finger on why either. You took pride in being able to read people. But it looked like his mind was at some sort of battle.

He gave an idle hum, getting into the driver's seat.

You raised a brow, closing the door on the passenger side shut. Your hand reached out to his thigh, making him break his trance and flicker his eyes towards you.

"Listen, I don't know what it is or what's going on. But I'm all ears if you want," You smiled, patting his thigh. You went to remove your hand but Daniel placed his hand over yours, keeping you there.

Daniel's heart was in his throat. He was not normally a nervous man. He was the epitome of confidence. But you seemed to tear that down, in the nicest way, quite easily.

Daniel absorbed your curious eyes before releasing a shaky breath. "Uh," he awkwardly chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "I'm not normally like this. I can't really explain it... but these past few weeks, I... I haven't felt like this in a really long time. With you I feel free... happy... I guess what I'm trying to say is that I really like you. And even if I'm ancient, I would really like to be with you. You know. Together. If that wasn't clear."

The smile on your face the moment you realised what was going on hadn't stopped growing. You watches his eyes dart around, looking for a signal of anything. A yes. A no.

You looked down at your hands. The warmth of his spread among your one. You turned your hand to intertwine them with his and squeezed his hand, looking back up at him. "I think you took the words right out my mouth. I like you too, Danny. A lot. Even as an 'old ass man.'"

An odd silence settled within the car as Daniel simply stared at you, honey brown eyes hold your own.

"Danny? Are you okay?"

Daniel's eyes turned into crescents while his infamous wide smile sprawled onto your face. "Can I kiss you?"

You stilled in the passenger seat. Your eyes flickered to his lips before meeting his eyes once again. You weren't sure if you could trust your voice at the moment so you gave a curt nod.

Daniel smiled softly at the flustered expression you sported. Instead of leaning his head in like you expected to, he reached over to your seat and lifted you out of it. You released a small yelp before landing onto his lap, straddling his crotch as you faced towards him.

Daniel's fingers played with the slightly dampened tresses that had fallen around your face and pushed them behind your ears. His fingers trailed down to your heated cheeks and to your jaw. Bringing you closer to him, he leaned his head towards you.

Daniel's lips fell into yours. His hands soon fell to your back as your arms snaked his neck. The world... your surroundings were all gone. All you could feel was each other. His fingers sneaking past the hem of your shirt and grazing your bare skin. The action sent a wave of heat within you.

You let out a small muffled moan causing Daniel to adjust himself in his seat. A bulge had formed in his pants, aching at your touch. You released yourself from him for a gasp of air, which fell into further pleasurable gasps as Daniel's swollen lips had found your neck, leaving a trail of small sloppy kisses.

Daniel rested his chin onto your shoulder before pulling back to look at you. He grinned at your dazed expression. "As much as I would like to continue this in such a fitting setting like a car, I would rather our first time in an actual bed."

You let out a small laugh, feeling yourself fluster even further while you gave him a tight hug.

And that's how your relationship had started. Since then, it had been almost a year. In that year, you had gotten impossibly closer. You had visited his races without telling him because you were scared. You were scared of distracting him and scared for him. The first F1 race you went to matched up to your meetings with other marine biologists and techs in Spain. God, you didn't know cars could even go that fast. The occasional toss of a car to the side sent fear coursing through you.

Eventually, Daniel had found out and reassured you that you being there wouldn't harm anything. In fact, the thought of it calmed him down and encouraged him. He had even introduced you to some of the team and whispered in your ear when he pointed to Red Bull's team principal.

"Oh... so that's the man going overboard. That's a shame. You didn't tell me he look like a sea otter. Sea otters are supposed look cute. I'll just pretend he's plant plankton."

Daniel had never laughed harder at something. Just when he thought he couldn't love you more. God, you were a sight to behold. He would never understand how you managed to be who you were.

You had felt the same.

Well, at least that was until when you met his new teammate in McLaren, Lando Norris.

Lando was two years younger than you and what some people called the British Ricciardo. He was constantly smiling and cracking jokes. He was the moodmaker.

The vibe he had was like an annoying little brother of a sort.

But people obviously didn't feel attracted to someone if they truly thought of them like that.

You shouldn't feel this way. It was wrong. You had a boyfriend. A boyfriend who adored you. You had tried to keep yourself occupied with your job to avoid having to attend too many races and meet the McLaren team, in fear of meeting Lando.

But of course, how were you going to refuse to celebrate Lando's 2nd podium of the year in Monaco when Daniel asked?

So here you were. In a club dressed in a cream coloured set: a long sleeved bralette and a long skirt starting from your waist, ending just before your heels with a slit in the middle.

The compliment you had received in your ear from Daniel made you wish you could say you were dressed for him in the first place. But it would be a lie to say that.

You had navigated yourself around the club to drown yourself in some alcohol. You needed a distraction and you felt that being some what drunk and out of it would've helped.

you should take it as a compliment that i got drunk and made fun of the way you talk. you should think about the consequence of your magnetic field being a little too strong. and i got a boyfriend, he's older than us he's in the club doing, i don't know what you're so cool, it makes me hate you so much.

You were out of it for sure. Because sober you did not have the guts you had right now. The guts to not only sit at the same table as Lando but next to him and make fun of his British accent with Carlos.

"No, Carlos. I'm pretty sure he sounded like 'No no no... you ruined my ice cream,'" You laughed lightly as the Spaniard refused to agree with you.

"No he has bit of a weird sound at the 'ruined' part. He sound like those kids in the UK... on the road? What are they again..."

Lando's face burst with amusement. He laughed so hard, he had to prevent his cup from falling out of his hand. "Do you mean..." He gasped for air, "Roadmen?"

Jesus. Carlos Sainz discussing roadmen was the funniest thing that had happened so far.

You weren't sure where Daniel was even. All you knew he was probably talking to some other team member of McLaren. You were rather preoccupied and entranced by the British male next to you.

You couldn't explain it but it was as if there was a magnetic field around him and you, like an element, were simply attracted to him. As if there was no other path to go. He made you laugh differently. Feel differently. He was also a looker. That boyish charm that simply pulled you in. It made you wonder how strong his magnetic field was.

The science of it was simple. You may be a marine biologist but you hadn't flunked physics. The stronger the intensity of a field, the further the magnet, Lando, will be able to attract elements, like you. All you knew was that he was strong enough to inexplicably take you attention away from your own boyfriend.

you're so gorgeous i can't say anything to your face 'cause look at your face. and i'm so furious at you for making me feel this way but what can i say? you're gorgeous.

This attraction you felt to Lando what ridiculous in itself. But you had felt it from when you first met him and you felt it now. Lando was simply gorgeous. His smile was breathtaking. His laugh felt pretty.

And it infuriated you. You wanted to yell at him, tell him to stop. These feelings, this flutter, this tingle... make it all stop, you wanted to say.

But you could never say that to his face. How could you? Those same things came back every time you looked at him.

The smile. The flutter. The tingle.

You wondered whether he had even looked at himself in the mirror. You wondered whether ever had felt insecure about the way he looked and that if he did, you wished he hadn't.

Everything thing about him was simply enticing. A delightful view... from the arms of Daniel.

you should take it as a compliment that i'm talking to everyone here but you. and you should think about the consequence of you touching my hand in a darkened room. if you've got a girlfriend, i'm jealous of her. but if you're single that's honestly worse. 'cause you're so gorgeous it actually hurts.

This feeling... this infatuation was overwhelming for you. You were a taken girl. You had even made it was to the multiple Instagram F1 'WAGs' accounts and were met with the most glorious welcomes by fans.

You needed to get a grip on yourself for Christ's sake. Lando was also taken. Even if he was single, which if you were being honest was an insult to romance itself, you didn't have a chance let alone now. No matter how jealous you were, you had to be realistic. You paled in comparison to the fame Portuguese models that F1 drivers often found themselves with.

Of course, you had to admit they were beautiful. You had no conflict with them. They weren't your classic mean girls. They were impossibly nice and you even found yourself in some interesting conversations. But at the end of the day, you were simply a marine biologist.

So in the darkness of the club, you had managed to isolate yourself from Lando, who had gone with Pierre somewhere, and made the struggling and gruelling effort to talk to anyone else but him. You had conversed with Carlos before he had gone somewhere with his girlfriend. You had settle for Charles as a distraction.

Charles was a pleasure to talk to. As always, he was also so kind and sweet with his words. The type you were sure that when you looked at the, you knew that their mother raised them right.

Daniel had finally found his way to you, mentioning that Zak Brown had just pulled him aside for a talking to. You asked if he was okay, in which he responded with a smile and said: "Now that I'm with you, yes."

You managed to give him a soft and believable smile. Daniel was standing behind you, joining in your conversation with Charles. It wasn't until you were in the midst of a conversation about life in Monaco that you felt a hand on yours.

You smiled gently, expecting it to be Daniel's but instead it was Lando's.

ocean blue eyes looking in mine. i feel like i might sink and drown and die.

Your eyes snapped up to meet Lando's face. His blue eyes bore into yours.

Those goddamn eyes of his would be the end of you. The similarity of them to the oceans you had travelled and the beautiful creatures you had seen was uncanny.

Your heart paced furiously against your chest. He must've been drunk or tipsy to the very least to stumble onto you. There was no way he had purposely wanted you to drown in his eyes.

You sucked in a quiet sharp breath and edged to removed your hand. But as quickly as you had made that decision, the gnawing feeling at your heart had grown more intense and taunted you. Lando's hand hurried to grab yours and place it back where it was.

Your eyes shook with awe and lingered with a dangerous thrill. You could feel his fingers rub the back of your hand gently before intertwining them.

You looked blankly at the table in front of you while Lando had joined in the conversation so casually, like nothing was even going on. You had to thank your stars that the club was able to be as dark as it was.

A lot of the noise around you had turned into white noise and blurs of sound. Charles must've complimented you as you had managed to capture some mention of fish and coral reefs from your boyfriend.

you make me so happy it turns back to sad. there's nothing i hate more than what i can't have and you are so gorgeous, it makes me so mad. you make me so happy it turns back to sad. there's nothing i hate more than what i can't have and guess i'll just stumble on home to my cats alone unless, you wanna come along?

It was Daniel kissing your cheek fondly and Lando's hand grazing your knee under the table that had brought you back to reality.

The happiness and adrenaline you felt was wrong. You knew with every crevice and fibre of your body that this had to stop. This attraction and sickly sweet infatuation with Lando. God, he just made you so fuzzy. You could barely think straight.

You were stuck in between two men who had their touch on you. It wasn't right. As much as you liked Lando, he angered your entire being. He had simply waltzed into your life. He was playing along with your feelings.

Lando's damning eyes averted to you when he felt your hand slip away from him forcefully.

You hoped the guilt in your eyes shone as much as they could in this darkness.

You were going to have to break up with a man who would give you everything. You would have to leave all of... this... and get away from here.

You needed everything to return to normal. You had no idea how exactly you were going to explain a sudden return home without inflicting any suspicion.

All you knew now was that you had to make a lengthy apology to a man you had not realised you had fallen out of love with.

You supposed that was love.

Love was a bittersweet feeling. It was beautiful and fluttering but brought a lot of tragedy and strife along with it.

That was love: simply gorgeous.

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[cambion-companion]

"Hold Monster"

Based on this amazing post and artwork. I couldn't help but write something for our beloved INT 8 Tav from 1st POV since that's what I feel most comfortable writing.

Raphael x reader!Tav | Tav thinks the hold monster spell works in a very different way

You certainly hadn't intended to trip and fall into the portal, landing face-first on the polished marble floor of Raphael's entryway.

Your presence had been noticed immediately by Raphael who, upon recognizing you, wore a rather aggrieved expression. He set down his quill carefully and rose to full towering height, a slight twist of bemusement curling his lips. "Here I assumed you could go an hour without indulging in foolishness." He strode toward you and gripped you by the scruff like a wayward kitten. "You just caused me to lose a bet with Korilla."

"I really don't know how this happened!" You protested against his grasp as he dragged you back towards the portal. "I would've knocked if you had a door!"

Raphael released you with a slight push, his wings flexing as he glowered down at you. "Innocent or not, a trespass will be received as such."

"Ah! Raphael, it was an accident!" You began to panic as his eyes glowed a bright gold and flames began to dance upon the tips of his fingers. "Oh, not again." You groaned, wracking your brains for something to counter his retribution."

You withdrew a small amount of silver from your pocket and shrieked. "I cast hold monster!!" Then charged at the cambion head-on.

So surprised was he by your yell and sudden movement, Raphael couldn't react in time before you leapt upon him. You wrapped your arms and legs around his torso and hips, clinging to him like a rabid spider monkey.

The force with which you jumped him caught both of you off guard and Raphael toppled to the floor, his wings failing to catch his weight in time. You felt his grip pierce your sides as he stared up at you in utter shock for a moment. The spell had worked, it seemed.

You panted. "I don't want my bottom singed again like last time. That wasn't very nice."

Raphael grimaced, his face sharpening again as his surprise subsided. Emotions warred across his features. "You are a most confounding creature. If I believed you at all capable of rational thought, you'd be a pile of ash this very moment. Now...get off."

"Sorry, I can't." You shook your head sorrowfully. "The spell lasts a minute."

Raphael growled low in his throat, his wings stretching as he slowly got to his feet. You still clung to him, holding him tightly as you could.

With great care and powerful restraint, Raphael removed you from his person limb by limb.

"Wow, you're strong." You said with awe, panting a little from the exertion. Seeing the look on his face you backed slowly towards the portal. "Okay, I can see you're busy. I'll be going now."

"I should think so." Sparks of hellfire danced between Raphael's fingertips as he looked at you, his expression much like one who is considering how best to skin a deer.

Once you'd disappeared back to the material plane, Raphael grunted and looked around his immaculate manor. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the infernal air. "For the crown."

[lmanburgseulogy]

C!WILBUR INSANE POSTING. guess what. It’s actually about revival arc 😎 wahhoo

Sorry if it’s unorganized i’m too lazy to read it back 💯 plus probably none of you have the attention span to read this /j

LONG LONG POST UNDER CUT!

Brown mop of curls that are frizzy and uncared for, white streaks contrasting the rest. They stick out no matter how much he tries to hide them. When he gets so stressed he tugs at his hair, he notices that its gotten longer since when he actually tried to keep up with it. It wraps around the curves of his ears and turns upwards at the scruff of his neck.

There’s a deep wrinkle between his eyebrows, a reminding mark of a general with a heavy expression going into battle.

His eyes look unfocused over cracked glasses, it always seems like he’s not fully in the moment. Maybe he isn’t, not anymore. His gaze only settles on the ways everyone has changed, when he’s the same person who stood at that button. His absent stare contradicts the heavy smile lines gained years ago. He can’t remember the last time his smile reached that high. Feels awfully forced these days, even when he is happiest. He knows he doesn’t deserve it.

Wilbur struggles with bright lights after being in the dark so long in limbo. His head is always throbbing, and by noon it feels like a very tiny man is pushing his eyes right out from behind. Sometimes he gets too overstimulated and can’t think or stand straight. Tommy worried about him, but he can handle himself.

He has permanent eye bags from decades of sleepless nights. When he puts himself on the stage to be perceived by other’s judgmental stares he lathers thick foundation over the darkest parts. he knows they would notice if he covered all of it. They notice every little detail.

Wilbur’s nose is crooked and hooked at the end. A bump holds his glasses in place where freckles spot his skin. He loves the sunrise, he likes the marks it leaves for him. Maybe the light is finally reclaiming him.

His chin is covered in scratchy stubble. It’s thick and itchy, but his hands are to shaky to shave anymore. He learned that the hard way. He could get someone to do it for him, but who would? People always attack him in the small, minor inconveniences. They seem to hit wilbur harder than anyone else.

His Adam’s apple is very prominent. He gets it from his father.

Two white scars cross down his chest, making an “X.” They are surrounded by dark, unruly burns. When he gets the motivation to change his clothes, he thinks about a fallen country’s flag, which looks very similar to his own body. A part of him hates it, a part of him knows there was a time he would live the flag with pride. He almost hates that more. Sometimes he feels like all he is is the day he got those scars, since that’s all they see him for. He tries not to think about it. Never turns out well when he falls in the pit that is his mind.

*weight mentioned ahead, implied starving as a form of self harm

Wilbur often squishes the fat on his arms and stomach. He doesn’t remember a time where his belly or thighs were this soft, only his ribs casting jagged shadows down his front or his skin wrapped tightly over his bones. It didn’t take long for him to get tired of the potatoes in Pogtopia. Or, that’s what he told everyone when they gave him that look. Pity, he knew it to be. He didn’t need to be pitied, not when this is what they want him to be. A man falling apart, another dog in the ring.

Wilbur thought it was odd, his new shape and stretch marks. He didn’t really hate it though. He is almost comfortable in himself, even when most of his meals were barely choked down. Phil likes to reassure him the healing continues, and he knows his dad isn’t a liar of course, but Wilbur tends to spill his uncontrollable emotion into every good thing. It’s whatever.

Wilbur has lumbar scoliosis, so right before his hips his spine curves into a “C.”

He remembers his mother talking to Phil after his exam for it. Her voice was wound up tight, ranting to phil about how he might be paralyzed when he got older. He can’t remember his mother much, yet that memory is clear as day. He would love to tell her he’s moving about just fine, except for the constant pain. Tommy says it’s normal though. (yes lets ask tommy for medical advice. sure king)

Scars litter his body, all around. Some big, some small. Some major injuries like The Final Control Room, and some are minor losses not even worth noticing during battle. A lot he doesn’t remember. Which might be for the better.

His fingernails are short and chipped. He expects it to be from clawing at the walls in limbo, the scraping sound makes him shiver to think of.

When Wilbur hits his head on doorframes he remembers family photos of him sticking out like a sore thumb in the line. He had his growth spurt early, and got a little too tall for his liking. Techno joked he was 1/4 torso 3/4 leg. Easy to intimidate people though!

Wilbur’s bones ache a lot. They’re old things, he thinks when he hears the pop of his knees. Sometimes the aching gets so bad he can only sit, which is embarrasing when he has to plop down on the prime path while Tommy gives him the worry look again. One time Eret found him catching his breath by the museum, boy he hated that. He remembered the last time they saw each other, when he apologized. Kind of awkward. He wished he could run away, like during L’manburg. A slight smile on his face when the breeze swept his hair back, legs moving in rhythm against the ground. He’s pathetic now, not even able to walk away if he tried. Potions never numb it as much as he hopes.

[bussyyeukie]

deathproof!Price x reader: normally you didn’t fling yourself into trouble, not that you didn’t find it, but you didn’t exactly hide from it…and this man with the broad chest and the smug smile screamed something awful, too bad you weren’t able to read that the first go around…

The rain beat down hard outside, such a contrast from the dry heat of the day–but that’s southern weather for you, so unpredictable sometimes. At least to you, not that the rain would've changed your plans.

Your teeth softly nipped at the butt of your cigarette, slowly smoldering away in front of you, smoke whispering up around your face and into the air around you. Eyes drooped and body relaxed leaning against the beam next to you, arm crossed under your breasts as it supported your other arm, which was reaching for your cigarette. Taking a slow drag from it as you followed with a deep breath in. Looking out over the parking lot, small and dirt. The bright billboard was captivating you. Something about the woman laid out on it with a wicked smile, her hair huge and a certain glint in her eye. You’d spent about 10 minutes staring at it, your first cig had just smoldered out the first round. But you weren’t as totally drunk as you were 10 minutes ago, so you could focus on two things at once better.

Your skin is deceivingly warm in the chilly night, even without a jacket. Boots nearly to your ankles and wide on your calves, nowhere near the short cutoffs you wore, a pack of cigarettes and a lighter tugging tight at your back pocket, phone tugging at the front pocket. Your shirt was exactly thick either for that matter. But by god did the liquor and the unbearably stuffy bar help warm you up.

Your brows furrowed as you looked at the billboard, sloppily pushing your unruly hair out of your face.

“Those’ll kill ya, y’know,” a gruff voice broke the near silence. Making you jump and whip your head around, eyes impossibly wide.

“Jesus fuck–” your voice was muffled by the cigarette pressed tightly between your lips, putting a hand to your chest, you plucked the cig from your mouth and scoffed, “You scared the hell outta me!”

Looking toward the door of the bar, dusty yellow light flooded out of it, only to be blocked by the stocky man in the doorway.

His arms crossed over his chest, pulling the sleeves of his jacket tight on his arms, and no doubt tight on his back too. A warm smile stretched across his face, which was full with mutton chops, and scruff.

Your brows furrowed tighter, cocking your head as the man chuckled, deep and rumbling, like heavy bass.

“Sorry darlin', couldn’t help it, not my intention but,” he walked forward a bit, shaking his head, making his way over the railing you were at, “No matter wot, I think I would’ve spooked ya.”

Wish a heavy breath you looked up at him through your brows, licking your teeth, before huffing and looking out over the parking lot again, silence falling between you two. You pulled another drag from your cigarette as the man chimed in.

“Serious though, those'll kill ya one day.”

With a glance to the side, before you turned to him and blew the smoke out–with no care how much it got in his face–you smiled. He didn’t even flinch at the smoke, instead you swore he took a deep breath in.

“Lots of things could kill me,” you said, hand on your hip, hooking a thumb in the waistline of your shorts, “And last I checked, most do die someday, and I’m not one to try and fight off the inevitable.”

Your smile twitched as you let the cigarette hang between your lips again, this time leaning back on the post behind you, and crossing your arms, looking the man up and down.

“Very true darlin', can’t really argue wiv that,” the man leaning on his elbow, which was propped on the railing beside you two, before sniffing and holding a hand out, “in that case, care t' share?”

There was a beat of silence before you rolled your eyes and chuckled, cheeks pink.

“Yeah man, sure,” you handed it over, not noticing the way the man's fingers lingered all too long on yours. Touching far too much for a pass of a cigarette. You did take note of how warm he was, skin rough and buzzing with heat. You also notice for the first time the hat he had on, almost a fisherman's cap but you couldn’t really tell.

He took a long drag of it, watching you the whole time, before sucking his teeth and passing it back to you, “Wot a pretty thing doin' all alone out 'ere? Dangerous this time o' night…”

You laughed a beat, the creepy nature of the comment flying over your head. 

“Admiring the local art,” you gestured to the billboard–which seemed much less interesting after your intense concentration on it had been broken, you paused for a moment then looked at the man and pointed accusingly, “hey–I can protect myself, thank you.”

The man chuckled, whipping his nose before settling back into his jacket, “Oh really?”

“Yeah, really.”

You crossed your arms smug-like, eyes scanning over the man's face, definitely taking note of how full his facial hair was, and how there were crows feet at the corners of his eyes. He was…very attractive, and they didn’t get past you. He had broad shoulders, and a full chest, and a taught stomach, and thick thighs. Your eyes dragged back up to the man's face, a smug smirk on his lips as his eyebrows were raised.

You leaned in closer to his, grinning, swaying your body slightly.

“I have a secret,” you said, rather sing-songy.

The man grinned wider, “Is that so?”

“Uh-huh,” you leaned back, back thudding against the beam, licking your lips slightly.

“Gonna tell me, darlin', or just leave me all high an' dry?”

You leaned forward, keeping heavy eye contact with the man in front of you, back straight as you bent at your hips. Sliding your hand down your leg as you did, reaching down into your boot, fingers twitching as they touch a cold metal in your shoe.

“You gonna ask nicely?”

The teasing chip in your tone made the man laugh, leaning down slightly himself to get closer to your face.

“Can I please know yer secret?”

A wicked grin stretching across your face, tugging at your lips. Eyes widening.

“You wanna see it?”

The man leaned down even further, looking nearly face-to-face with you.

“Ah reelly wanna see darlin’.”

The air was thick between the two of you. You could feel sweat pebbling on your palms, and on your upper lip. The man's gaze was so firm with your own, that it made your cheeks twitch with your smile.

In a split second your hand was out of your boot and the blade of your hunting knife popped open with a click, 5 inches long, and sharp. The tip of it resting just under the man's chin, just barely scratching at the scruff that was there.

Your pupils were dilated as you looked at him, grinning and wagging your hips playfully as you bit your lip rather rough. But you didn’t care, you were pretty drunk.

The man didn’t move, his eyes still locked steady with yours, not even flinched at the knife to his neck. In fact, he looked even more excited.

“Cute little thing,” he said, voice gravely and low. It sounded like he was speaking directly into your ear, you’d forgotten it was raining, or that your cigarette was now soaked in the rain as it laid in the dirt right under the railing. You’d forgotten the billboard, or the bar that had music going and people laughing.

The man reached out, and gripped your hand that was holding the knife, your arm steady as you pushed it slightly harder against him, pressing into the skin–not enough to cut, but to fully feel the pressure of the blade.

“Yer gonna get in trouble if ya keep pullin' knives off people,” the man teased, tsk-ing at you.

You shrugged, biting the tip of your tongue, “Been fine so far…”

“So far…”

The man chuckled, his grip on your hand was hot and tight, squeezing tighter as he stood to his full high, easily keeping your hand from following him.

“Like I said,” he watched as you stood fully, knife still clutched in your hand as your arms hung at your sides, looking the man up and down. His arm came up, and you watched as his thick, mutt of a hand cupped your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your lips. Prodding it softly past them for a brief moment. Glancing to the side then back to you, “Dangerous fer a pretty little thing like ya out ‘ere in the dark like this..”

Your brows scrunched as you looked at him, feeling him run his thumb over your lips again, his hand taking up nearly half your face.

“Well, I’m out of cigarettes,” you said, tilting your head as he dragged his palm over your cheek to grip your jaw, holding your head in place, “So I won’t be out here for long, will I?”

The man tutted, looking you up and down (which it wasn’t the first time he had), “Looks like we’ll 'ave to do somethin' about that, won’t we?”

A smile tugged at your lips, “If you’re drivin’...”

He stood straight and laughed, deep from his belly, then walked around the side of you, dragging his hand along your skin till he was gripping your nape tight in his hand. His fingers toying with the neckline of your shirt, dipping them under the collar as he squeezed.

“Of course, darlin', wouldn’t ever dream of it…”

There was a weird tone you couldn’t quite place, a weird intention somewhere in there you couldn’t figure out on your own at the moment. But alas, you felt your stomach flip as he moved you, the drunken haze making this feel like you were being lifted and floated, not near dragged down the steps to the shadowed car across the parking lot, the knife in your hand still glinting in the fading light of the inside of the bar.

[lillaydee]

The Arrangement Part 11

Pioneer! Joel Miller / Reader

Your life crumbled to nothing during a migration to Jackson, forcing you to agree to an arrangement just to survive.

NOTE: Possible inaccuracies in baby developments, food intake and inheritance or ownership laws coming. I really know nothing, but I needed to put some stuff in for the sake of the story line, so please forgive me and take everything in the spirit of storytelling yeah?

WARNINGS: Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Ellie & Joel Bonding (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (The Last of Us), Jealousy, Mutual Pining, Fluff and Angst, Frontier Joel, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Virgin Joel, Virgin Reader, Minor Character Death, Period-typical Misogyny, Marriage of Convenience

SERIES MASTERLIST

Part 10

WARNING - POSSIBLE NON-SMUTTING SMUT COMING UP.

---

Joel stared at you for a while, asking you if you were sure. His breathing immediately changed when you shyly nodded, biting your lower lip. It’s okay, you told him. We can learn together. He lowered his body and hugged you tight, being careful not to squish you.

“I’m terrified that I might hurt you again,” he whispered. “I don’t think I can put you through that again.”

You coaxed him into lifting his head, rubbing your nose to his, telling him that you promised you would tell him if he hurt you this time.

“You promise?”

“I do.”

“I love you, darling.”

“Love you too… please, husband, kiss me. I miss my husband’s lips.”

He kissed you, slow and deliberate, determined to take his time. He wanted to feel you, savour you, make you feel good. His hands began roaming about your body, slowly caressing every inch of you that he could reach. He kept at it until you were writhing for more, leaving your lips, kissing you tenderly all over your face, telling you over and over that he loved you, that he’s sorry, that he couldn’t live without you, whispering how beautiful you were, how lucky he was to have you as his wife. He trailed his kisses to your cheek, onto your ear, tracing it with his tongue, listening to your breathing change, softly smiling, aware that he was already doing better than he did before.

He traced the soft outlines of your jaw with his own, his scruff leaving a delicious trail on your skin, before going lower to your neck, placing open mouthed kisses as he went, feeling your hands caressing his back, your mouth opened, your eyes trying so hard to stay open to watch him go lower down your body.

His hands unbuttoned your dress, where his clumsy, massive fingers had trouble with dealing with some of the more delicate, decorative ones, before he looked at you pleadingly, asking for help. You laughed, undoing the buttons yourself. Your hands were barely finished with the final button when he ripped the front of your dress apart, revealing your camisole and drawers to him. He sat between your legs, taking in what he saw, the materials nowhere near thick enough to hide what was underneath.

You sat up, taking your hands out of the sleeves of your dress, lifting your body slightly to pull the dress out from under you. He had gone still, his eyes roving over your naked shoulders, your neckline, your bare arms, your almost exposed chest… You hesitated at first, but your hands slowly went to the hem of his shirt, pulling it up over his head. You got closer to him, trailing your fingers over his lips, lightly going lower and lower over his chin, his neck, his strong chest, down to his stomach, where your trail was obstructed by his trousers, where something was tenting it. You made to untie his trousers, your hand brushing against his hard member, and he stopped you, his breath ragged, his eyes closed, shaking his head, telling you not yet.

He toyed with the hem of your camisole, his eyes darting up to yours, seeking permission to take it off. You lowered you gaze, took a deep breath, and lifted it off your head yourself, and you heard his breathing noticeably stopped.

He was openly staring at your chest, eyes wide, pupils black, mouth open, jaw slack, looking like he could salivate at any moment. He was frozen, though. You suddenly got self-conscious, your hand shooting up across your chest. His hands shot up, taking your hand off, placing it at your side, before travelling back up to touch your breasts gently, his breathing had resumed, harder than before. He toyed with the underside, before his thumbs grazed your nipples, causing your eyes to close, your breath hitching.

His eyes shot up to yours, a small smile gracing his lips from your reaction. He leaned over and kissed you, slowly setting you back down on the mattress, one hand on your cheek, the other remaining on your breast, toying with your nipple, and when he accidentally flicked it, you responded with an involuntary moan.

His lips quickly left yours, lowering down to your chest, taking your right nipple into his mouth, and your body surged upwards, your hand going to the back of his head. His left hand toyed with your left breast, plucking at your nipple, while his mouth and tongue worked together, doing unthinkable, delicious things to your right one, before switching over to your left, his right hand immediately taking over what his mouth had just left behind.

He was making you feel so good, oh, so good. But it was still not enough. Your body had trouble staying still, his dalliances left the rest of your body not covered by his warm mouth or hands shivering. His hips began rocking into yours, brushing against your lower region, making you swoon. You rocked your hips back up to him, and the pressure of his hardness between your legs left you light headed.

He groaned, pulling back to crush his lips against yours, hands all over your body, pulling you so close to him you could hardly breathe.

Were you breathing? Did you say something? Did he say something?

Huh?

“I asked if you liked that, darling, but I think I know the answer.”

There was a smirk on his face, looking so happy he made you feel good.

“Please don’t stop. Please…”

He kissed you again, before going lower down your body, licking every inch of your skin all the way down to your belly button, before sitting back up, his hands untying your drawers, before placing them on your waistband, looking up at you, asking you if he could please, please, take it off.

You lifted your hips, and he carefully, slowly, slipped the material off you, his eyes landing immediately between your legs. You closed your legs, earning you a groan from him, his chin fell onto your knees, arms hugging them, his eyes begging, pleading with you to open them back up. Please, darling. Let me see you.

You had no idea what came over you. But you pouted and shook your head, your eyes cheeky. You first, you said, a sly smile on your face. He huffed a small laugh, before getting off the bed, and hesitantly, slowly, lowering his trousers, letting it fall onto the floor. He stepped out of them, his eyes on you, his nerves and insecurity clearly showing. 

Oh my.

It’s no wonder you were in so much pain.

You sat up, hands immediately taking his thighs, pulling him closer to you. You stared at this beautiful, magnificent piece of equipment he had been hiding from you, and with much curiosity, you lifted your hand, and lightly traced the length of it with your finger.

His body jerked backwards, hissing at your touch, his eyes closed, his member twitching, as if having a life of its own. Your hands shot out and grabbed his thighs again, eyes pleading at him to come back closer, and he did, albeit with much reluctance. You retraced the strong, visible vein that you saw, his hands going up to clutch his own hair, his chest heaving, his breath sounding like he was in danger of exploding. You kept going, until you reached his balls, at which point he pulled your hand away, his breath sounding as if he had just ran uphill, telling you that you needed to stop.

“Why? Am I hurting you?”

“God, no. It felt too good, darling. I want to make you feel good before I finish.”

“You did.”

“No, darling. I’m not done.”

There was such promise in his eyes, you decided to give in. He kissed you again, pushing you gently back down, before putting his hands on your knees, gently prying it open for him. Please open your legs darling, let me see.

You parted your legs a little bit, and he sat cross legged right up to you, placing your legs above his knees, hanging off his lap. He stared at your lady, seemingly awestruck by what he saw, his rough, calloused, hardworking hands caressing your thighs. He looked at you, realizing that you had your hands bunched up together on your tummy, eyes averted from his own. He took your hands in his, gently prying them apart, asking you to please look at him. Please, Darling, I need to see your beautiful face to know if I’m hurting you, alright?

You nodded, your nerves showing. He asked if he could please touch you. You nodded, prepared to close your legs, too nervous and embarrassed for words. He kissed your hands, telling you that you are beautiful. All of you, Darling. She’s beautiful. Just like you.

And with that, he wet his fingers with his mouth and placed them on your lady.

Oh.

Your legs involuntarily jerked.

His eyes darted towards yours, checking on you, to see of you were alright.

He moved his fingers slightly.

Oh, my.

Your legs seemed to have a habit of jerking today. Perhaps the ailment you had felt before, the one where your legs felt weak when watching him bathe was back?

He moved his fingers lower, and you gasped a little, your hips twitching. He then moved back to where he originally was, moving his fingers gently in small circles, just ghosting off your pleasure point, causing your breath to hitch.

“Am I hurting you darling?”

You could only shake your head, your eyes having trouble staying open.

He continued what he was doing, more pressure this time, and your hands clutched the sheets on his bed. His fingers continued circling, a lazy movement, making you lose all sense of senses and time of day. He kept at it, going lower every few minutes, before continuing, faster, tighter, as your breath got shorter, raspier, harder.

Something was happening. The ailment you felt before, it’s not only back, it’s vengeful… oh no, or dear Lord, oh God, what was happening to you? Your heart was beating far too fast, your breath in short bursts. You must be dying. This was it. You were going to die. You were sure of it. And yet, you were not afraid, looking forward to it, in fact. Something was telling you to bear it, you were climbing, higher, higher, higher. What you were climbing exactly, you didn’t know. But this climb felt so good. Your chest was heaving, your breath loud, your throat dry, your head empty, and suddenly, your body seized, your mouth open, a silent scream that only you could hear filling your ears, your head shot back on your pillow, eyes shut tight, as bursts of pleasure shot through your entire body, beginning at your core, where your husband’s fingers were working their wonders on you, travelling all the way to the ends of your limbs, all over every surface of your skin, before going up to your head, releasing itself through the roots of your hair.

When the world had righted itself again, you opened your eyes, your sight spotty, your ears ringing, to see your husband sitting between your legs, the most elated look on his face, his free hand rubbing your tummy, his dominant hand rubbing your lady lightly, causing you to jerk away from him.

“Joel…”

“Did you like it, darling?”

You couldn’t answer. But he took your wide smile and flushed body as a yes, happiness clearly written all over his face. He looked at his hand, now wet from your lady’s celebration, his smile disappearing, his hand lifted to his mouth, before he slowly tasted your dripping juices off it.

“Joel, no!”

It was like he couldn’t hear you. His eyes were shut, savouring what he was tasting, a moan escaping him, before he opened his eyes, dark with need, and lowered himself between your legs, hugging your thighs tightly to his shoulders.

Oh dear God. What was he doing?

You felt something touching your lady, slowly, tentatively. You got up on your elbows to see. Both his hands were visible to you, tightly holding your thighs in place. His eyes visible to you, from between your legs. But… if his hands were right there… what was doing this delicious…

Oh…

His beautiful face was pressed almost right up to your lady.

Oh, dear Lord. How obscene.

Before you could say anything, he took a deep breath, his eyes closing in ecstasy, before his tongue continued what his fingers started.

He feasted on you, his tongue playing with your pleasure centre, a hungry growl escaping his throat as he devoured your lady, tearing you apart layer by layer, making you cry out, babbling some nonsensical mumbo jumbo that could rival Ellie’s yammering, your legs were shaking, your hips lifting, seeking more from him. You felt yourself begin to climb, when suddenly, you felt his fingers join his mouth, gently, slowly, probing your entrance, before pushing in.

His name, Joel, was a simple name. Four letters. And even then, the E was silent. So really, his name only required three letters to pronounce, one single syllable. Up until now, you had no idea that saying his name, that simple, single-syllabled, three lettered name, would be such an impossibility.

You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t say his name. Hell, you couldn’t remember your own name. The sounds this man was pulling out of you were those you had never thought you could ever make before. You could feel him moving his fingers in and out of you, his tongue moving faster and faster, before you felt his fingers stretching you, making you scramble for purchase of anything within reach, breathing no longer possible, and before you knew it, you were grasping at his hair, your body lifting, your back arched, as the climb peaked, faster, harder, stronger than before, leaving your body trembling and tingling, your ears ringing, and before you could even make sense of what was going on, he was back on top of you, kissing you with such fervour he left your mind empty except for thoughts of him.

He looked deep into your eyes, asking you if you were ready for him. You pulled him back down for a kiss, your legs opened wide for him, your hand searching, grasping his member, causing him to stiffen and moan into your mouth, before finally, slowly, he breached your entrance.

It stung, but it was nothing like before. You welcomed the sting. He kept asking you if he was hurting you, and you kept kissing him, pulling his hips closer and closer to you every single time he pulled back. When he was finally fully in, he asked you again if you were alright, his body stiff from trying to control himself. You pulled him down to you again, asking him to just hold you close, relax, husband, I’m alright. You made me feel so good. I love you so much.

He immediately relaxed, telling you he loved you too, before kissing you again, slowly moving in and out of you, his moans turning into whimpers, telling you that you felt so good, you make me feel so good darling, I love you so much. His movements didn’t last long, he was much too overwhelmed, and before long, he stiffened on top of you, kissing you like it was the only thing he ever wanted to do, hugging you close, whimpering and whining and grunting into your mouth, before rolling over, taking you with him.

The two of you just laid there, silence in the room, except for your heavy breathing.

When the heavy breathing stopped, it was as if he had been in a trance before, and now he was woken up. He quickly sat up, checking your body for any signs that might have suggested he had caused you pain, panic in his eyes.

You had to assure him that he did not, in fact hurt you that day. That he did make you feel so good, twice. That you were so in love with him. That you did forgive him, that you never want to go for weeks without touching or kissing him again.

You pulled him back down, letting him rest his head on your chest, kissing the top of his head, playing with his hair, until you heard a soft snore escaping him, and you fell asleep with him, a huge smile on your face.

You belonged to the first group of ladies, after all.

**********

Joel woke up not an hour later feeling lazy, sated and comforted. He carefully extracted himself from your arms, laid himself next to you, facing you, and watched you sleep.

He did it. He made you feel good and he didn’t hurt you. His chest puffed up a bit at the thought. The sounds you were making, the way your body moved, was so much better than anything he had ever imagined. He knew he helped you finish. Twice. He only wished he could’ve given you another.

The way he felt, knowing you felt that good because of him, made him feel like he was on top of the world. And the way he felt when he was inside you… he didn’t think anything could top the feeling he felt that frightful night, a feeling that, despite the pain it caused you, was so good his brain left his body. But today… this was different. Your moans and whimpers, your soft lips, your body moulded onto his, oh… this must be heaven. A heaven that he intended to revisit again and again.

He watched your sleeping face, unable to imagine waking up to an empty bed ever again. His heart felt so full he wanted to scream with joy, let everyone know how lucky he was to have you in his life. He was so in love with you the thought of not having you around anymore made his heart ache, like it wanted to give up. He meant what he said to you. His heart beat for you.

He couldn’t help himself from caressing your soft cheek. You moaned a little, and slowly opened your eyes, immediately blessing him with a shy smile at the memory of what just happened.

He was contemplating something in his mind, and like the wizard that you were, you could see it. You asked him what he was thinking about. He pulled you into his arms, kissing your temple.

“I’m thinking… I like having you here in my bed. I’m thinking… maybe it’s time Ellie has her own room… so I can hold her Mama close when I sleep.”

You laughed, calling him a greedy man. He has to share you with Ellie, she needed you. He responded by holding you tighter, telling you he needed you too. And if that made him a greedy man, so be it.

His tummy rumbled. You gave him a kiss and immediately got up, taking your dress off the floor to go make him something to eat. It’s almost dinner time, you told him, as he held your hand, not wanting you to go. And maybe we should go get Ellie.

“Nope,” he said, getting up, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling you close, pressing his face to your naked tummy, breathing your scent in deeply, hugging you tight as if you would float away if he let go. “She’ll be fine with Liv and Will. I’m having you all to myself tonight.”

You had to pry yourself off him when his tummy rumbled again, telling him he needed to let you go so you could make him something to eat. You needed to wash before that. You’re all sticky. So was he.

He followed you into the living room, where he proceeded to wash you right there in the kitchen, immediately kissing every single part he had just wiped clean. When he got to washing your lady, he gave up on the cleaning altogether and proceeded to carry you back into bed, telling you he could just eat bread tonight, before taking you again and again, making up for lost time.

The two of you ended up eating in bed, your body hugging his, your legs across his lap, feeding plain ol’ bread and cheese to one another, kissing each other in between bites.

Unfortunately, story time was cancelled for the night. But you definitely did not hear him complain.

**********

You and the ladies were headed to town the next day, Ellie strapped to your chest. You sent Joel two jars of water, telling him you might be a bit late back, urgent business in town. He nodded, pulling you in for a kiss, which lingered a bit too long, earning him some cheeky remarks from his brothers. He let you go with a blush on his neck, his hand immediately rising up to rub it off. He kissed Ellie on the cheeks, before giving you another one for good measure, telling you he loved you, standing where he was until you and the ladies disappeared from his sight.

Just as Joel got teased for the happenings of yesterday, you were not immune either. The ladies had heard what happened from their husbands, and you had to endure your sisters’ teasing too. They were happy for you, telling you that there was nothing you couldn’t come to them for, should you face any problems. We are sisters now, Liv said, family, we look out for one another. And, you know, they say that if you have knowledge, you should impart it to your sisters, Diana said, winking at you. Sharing is caring after all.

That got everyone laughing like crazy, even Ellie was laughing. Clever girl.

It was then you realized, you have a family here. You were not alone. Not anymore.

The five Miller ladies arrived in town to what could only be described as a stand-off. A dishevelled looking Esther was standing in the middle of the street, two very angry looking ladies facing her, throwing profanities so bad her way that you had to put your hands over Ellie’s ears. Much as the Miller ladies wanted to mind your own business, all of you couldn’t help but watch. Hell, the entire town was, why shouldn’t you?

Tess waved all of you over, even she was standing there, watching her mother be confronted by these ladies.

“The wives of the registrar and the bank officer,” Tess told all of you. “Apparently, my mother has been very busy.”

Ah… that’s how she found out Ellie wasn’t yours, and that’s why she called Joel well-off. She had inside information.

How ironic, the way she kept badmouthing Rose, only for her to do it herself.

A band of men rode into town from the far end of the street. Esther’s attention was distracted, and upon seeing the men, she panicked, and immediately ran off, leaving the two angry ladies screaming at her fast-disappearing figure. Tess looked at the approaching men, took a deep breath, and asked if you ladies had time for a quick snack with her? No worries, she said, she had a feeling her mother won’t be bothering you ever again.

All of you entered the tavern, where Max was bartending, just as the men rode past, chasing after Esther. He quickly greeted everyone, Tess introducing him to Liv and Diana, who very excitedly said hello to this man who made Tess so happy.

Turned out, Esther had a gambling problem. Those men, who passed by the town every now and again, had won big against her, and she promised them she would pay the next time they were in town, which happened to be today. The income from the tavern used to go missing, Tess said, and when she figured out what was happening, Tess opened a bank account in her own name, depositing the daily earnings in it to stop Esther from gambling it all away. Tess basically took over, paying her mother a stipend for working there. It was her father’s tavern, after all.

Tess figured that Esther started sleeping with the bank officer to gain access to her account, but the man, as horny as he was, didn’t actually have the authority to do that. She figured that’s why Esther was so persistent on marrying Tess off to Joel. It had always been money oriented. At first, he was just some good-looking man with seed money for building a new house, but when she found out he was married, she was going to give that dream up. Until she found out about the money he had deposited into his and his new wife’s bank account. She was just looking for someone to give her the money to pay off her debts.

“But… the way those men rode after her just then, I have a feeling we won’t be seeing much of her any time soon,” Tess said.

And Tess turned out to be right. She woke up the next day to her mother’s possessions gone from her room. Rumour had it she was last seen leaving Jackson on a wagon train, off to bring her contemptuous heart and less than charming personality to become someone else’s problem.

Tess then asked if everything was alright with Joel. The ladies began snickering, and Tess quickly sent Max away, leaning on the table to hear more, a sly, teasing smile on her face. She was happy for you and Joel and was even happier when Maria told her that the Miller men had agreed to help Max on his build.

Tess then said she’s feeling generous today, come back after your shopping and she will send you home with a delicious meal. Tommy’s birthday dinner was about to have some delicious food on the table.

**********

Rose was sitting at her desk in her foyer of the establishment, looking at receipts from the night before, when the front doors slammed shut, followed by the sounds of the bolts being locked in. She looked up, panic filling her chest when she saw who it was, standing just on the inside of the now locked front door, a basket in hand, a stern look on her face.

You.

Your eyes locked on hers as you took steady, confident steps towards her.

“Elena,” she stuttered, standing up, “You need to know your husband did nothing wrong. He never touched me, nor I, him. Please, you have to believe me.”

“Do I look stupid to you?”

“Elena, I swear on my life, on my girls’ lives, he never touched me.”

“But you touched him.”

For someone so soft spoken and average sized, you could definitely command the room and make Rose feel like a child.

“What? No, I didn’t! He sat right there,” her panicked, flailing hand pointing at the chair opposite her desk, “and I sat right here,” placing her hand on the chair she had just vacated, patting it unnecessarily several times, trying to convince you. “Look, look,” she took a piece of paper from under her desk, placing it face side up so you could see. “I drew him the female parts, showed him where things were, told him how he could… make things feel good… that’s all. Our clothes stayed on. No touching!”

You glanced at the paper and did a double take. Oh wow. That’s… wow… huh… Rose could draw. There was no question in your mind that she knew the lady part on a very intimate level.

Wait, snap out of it. You came here for a reason.

“You kissed him, Rose, out on the streets, for everyone to see.”

Realization dawned on Rose’s face.

“Oh… that… right. I’m sorry about that, Elena. I didn’t mean to, exactly. It’s just, he was so flustered and shy and nervous, he was shaking the entire time I spoke to him. He could hardly look at the drawing without blushing. I guess, I did that to calm him down. It was just a quick peck on his cheek. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.”

You advanced on her, your steps slow, deliberate. You could see her visibly swallow, torn between running away or surrendering herself to her fate, quite aware that she had crossed a line, albeit without meaning any harm. You stopped two inches from her, staring her right in the eyes. She didn’t have the courage to look away, nervousness clear on her beautiful face.

“If you ever place your lips anywhere near my husband’s person again, Rose, I will rip all your skin off and use it to make purses, do you understand?”

She was stunned. Fear clearly written across her face.

“Do. You. Understand?”

“Yes! Yes, yes. Of course. Yes.”

“Good. Now, stand here,” you pointed to the open space just behind you, placing your basket on her desk.

“Elena, what are you going to do to me?”

Your eyes snapped at her so fast she immediately took her place at the spot you pointed at.

“Stand straight, arms out.”

“Why…”

“JUST. DO IT!”

Her body immediately went straight, arms shot out to her sides. You went to your basket, your hand reached in and with much drama, pulled out… a measuring rope.

Rose flinched, her hands covering her face, her body rolled back to avoid whatever imaginary thing she had thought you were going to throw at her. But when nothing came, she peeked through her fingers, looking at you questioningly.

“Stand straight, as you did just now. I need to measure you,” your face now relaxed, a small teasing smile on your lips, walking towards her, all intimidation a thing of the past.

“Why?”

“I’m making you a dress, as a… thank you. You know, for… imparting your… expertise... to my husband.” There was honesty and earnestness in your eyes.

She visibly relaxed, releasing a long-held breath. “You don’t have to do this, he fixed some things around here for free as payment.”

“I want to. Please hold your hands out.”

She crossed her arms instead. “So… did he… perform well?”

You failed miserably at hiding your blushing smile. “You are a very good teacher.”

She laughed with joy, clasping her hands together, a small jump accompanying it, her face looking proud and touched at the same time. “Good to know.” She genuinely looked happy for you. “You know, as badly as people want to see women like me, I have never actually deliberately wrecked a marriage. I don’t wish that on anyone.”

“I know.”

“And your husband is so in love with you. He wouldn’t have asked me if he wasn’t. He’s the first man to actually ask me to teach him something, made me feel as if my profession has its benefits after all. In my books, Joel Miller is an honourable, upstanding man, you’re lucky to have him as your husband.”

“I know.”

She looked at you for a while, contemplating, “You’re really making me a dress? I wanted to order one, but I heard the waiting list is months long.”

“I’m really making you a dress. Right away. No waiting. We go to the material store right after I take your measurements. My treat.”

“You know,” she said, a cheeky smile on her face, “If you throw in a bonnet to go with that dress, I may have something to teach you, as well.”

You didn’t have to think. Your hands immediately wrapped the measuring rope around her head to get its circumference.

“Deal.”

And that was how Joel Miller found himself losing his mind, pressed up against his front door that night, trousers down around his shaking legs, breath ragged, one of his hands scrambling for purchase on the wooden surface so hard he was in danger of losing a couple of nails, his other one knuckled up, his teeth biting hard into it, worried that he might wake his BabyGirl with the screams that were threatening to escape him, his beautiful, devoted, beloved wife down on her knees in front of him, showing him what she learnt that day.

If he dies today, Joel Miller will die a happy man.

After she milked him dry, he stood there, weak in the knees, face disbelieving, breath heavy, looking down at his wife’s proud, elated face.

“Did you like it?” she asked him shyly.

Did he like it? Dear Lord, this woman was insane to even ask that question.

He responded by picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder, carrying a squealing wife into their now shared bedroom, placing her on the bed, telling her it was his turn.

**********

Two years later, Ellie was toddling along, her Uncle Benny holding her hand on one side, her cousin Marcus on the other. Her Uncle Will was trying to keep her cousins Daniel and Lucy from scaring the chickens. Uncle Tommy was sitting with her Papa.

Joel had his head in his hands, fingers grasping his own hair. He was scared, which, in retrospect, was extremely silly. He was in a war. He watched his buddies get shot, and died right in front of him, heard bullets whizzing past his head, and still, this was the most scared he had ever been in his life.

Your piercing scream filled the air. Joel stood up, he couldn’t take it anymore. He had to go to you. Tommy stopped him, telling him there was nothing he could do. Let the ladies do their job, the midwife was here, you would be fine.

Joel paced pack and forth in front of his house, his heart beating fast. His wife was hurting. He had promised you he would never cause you pain again, and here you were, in so much pain, probably the worst pain known to men, giving birth to his child. His child with you. He couldn’t shake the guilty feeling out of his head. He did this to you.

He stood by and watched as you carried his baby in your belly, getting so sick at the beginning, hardly able to keep anything down, while still trying to take care of him and Ellie. You were stubborn, he had discovered, insisting on doing the work as usual. He had to go to work, he had a job to do, you had told him one morning when he was reluctant to go to another build since you were so sick. The ladies will come help, you told him. Go, husband, I will be fine.

He always came home to a clean house, his daughter healthy, happy, looked after and fed, his meals cooked, his laundry washed, hung and dried, folded neatly and stashed away in the armoire he had built for you. And still, you kept him company, read to him at night, letting him rest his head on your belly, treating him in ways he didn’t think he deserved.

And now, you were trying to push a baby out of your person. His baby. And you had to endure so much pain to do it. If he could take the pain away from you, he would do so in a heartbeat. But right now, he felt helpless, useless.

When you screamed again, he ran into the house, ignoring his brothers’ calls, going straight into the bedroom. The ladies yelled at him, telling him to leave, but he didn’t care. He went to you, got behind you and held you safely in his arms, letting you squeeze the bones out of his fingers, kissing your head over and over, telling you that you were doing so well, you were doing good, you were so strong, he loved you so much.

After what felt like a lifetime of pain, you and your husband were rewarded by the cries of your new baby daughter. Ellie has a sister. Joel never thought he could cry this much from happiness.

That night, after everyone left, you laid in bed with your husband, daughter and newborn, Joel asking Ellie to choose a name for her sister. The two of you were planning to list a few of your favourite girl names for her to choose from. You started with your mother’s name, which, by happenstance, was also Joel’s mother’s name, only spelled differently.

Ellie immediately kissed her baby sister.

“Hi Sarah.”

**********

After Joel had tucked Ellie in, he laid next to you, careful not to hurt you while he held you in his arms, thanking you over and over for Sarah, for Ellie, for all of it. He told you he was sorry you had to go through so much pain, promising you that this would be the only time you would have to go through that, his heart couldn’t take you going through it again.

That was the only promise to you he had ever broken.

Not two years later, he was making the same promise one more time, your son Jake in his arms, kissing you over and over, thanking you for blessing him like this.

Thankfully for you, he never broke that promise again.

Epilogue

[x-press-it]

Devilish Desires - 7/8

Dangerous Temptations, Irresistible Touch 🎞️❤️‍🔥🌹⚔️🖤💻🖱️

Sub!Logan Howlett x Dom!OC (They/Them)

Summary: Logan, typically guarded and dominant, finds himself captivated by E, a mysterious being with a devilish allure and ancient presence that challenges his control.

Context: This story unfolds 'within' the "Days of Future Past" new timeline, during Logan's early years as a history teacher at Xavier’s School. It’s set well before his consciousness from the original timeline reconnects with him in 2023, as seen at the film’s end.

Content Warnings (for the whole story): Smut 18+ (Dry humping, Edging, Unprotected p in v.) - Dom!Logan into Sub!Logan - Pet Names (Good boy, pretty boy, pet, pup, amongst others...) reversed age gap (Logan is younger) - OC Notes: Established name, backstory, powers, fighting style, female body but gender fluid character (Logan misgender them at first because he doesn't know, even in the descriptions) - Mention of other character from the MCU and subtle references to the comics for flavor (not mandatory to understand what is happening) - Flash back and mention of past trauma - Very quick mentions of drugs - Fluff with Dark Undertones: Emotional tension and possessive affection - Worship Themes: Religious imagery, reverent language and awe - Ancient Mysticism: References to otherworldly or demonic presence - Mental Health: Power dynamics, personal vulnerabilities - Trope: Rivals to lovers.

I'm back after 10 years of iatus and fairly new to how things are done on tumblr now, so sorry if I missed any warnings. Also english isn't my first language so there might be typos/weird sentences...

Notes: Got very inspired by sub!Logan and repeated listening of "Between wind and water" by Hael. Cover made with canva from an idea I got from this post. If you know who made the picture, tell me so I can credit them - Click on the divider to find the creator. Also this was meant to be an imagine turned into a full story. Just so you know, some chapters are very short, other are long. I'm in the process of editing/writing/rewriting parts so I'll post a chapter everytime I have one fully edited.

I kept getting derailled by stuff but El Famoso Chapter 7 (as my hubby has been calling it those last weeks) is finally done T^T I think my ADHD brain doesn't want me to finish this story because once it's done, it's done and I'll have to say goodbye to Ezekiel and this Logan. Regarding the poll I made about male x male smut, as the results were mixed, if I write anything between Logan and Zeek, I'll make this a bonus scene. Okay, people, it's time to feed the hunger again :)

Need some music? I've got you

Previously: in Devilish Desires

Chapters: 7/8

Word Count: 12.4K / 60K+ for now

E opened their eyes as the ray of the sun stroked their skin. The golden light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. Next to them, Logan was still sleeping, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, his expression peaceful—more so than E had ever seen since their first encounter in that tense hallway weeks ago.

They let their gaze roam over the lines of his face, memorizing every detail: the scruff along his jaw, the way his lashes rested against his cheek, and how his tousled hair fell messily across his brow, lending him an almost boyish look. The sight stirred a rare, warm smile from E, a glimmer of something fragile and cherished flickering within them.

Despite the contentment that coursed through their veins, a seed of resolve pressed at the back of their mind, they didn’t want to disturb him, nor did they want him to wake up alone, with only the ghost of their presence left in the warmth of the sheets. But time wasn’t on their side, as the rest of the mansion was about to awaken.

E brushed their fingers lightly along Logan’s arm, feeling the solid muscle shift beneath their touch even as he slept, the faint brush of their fingers drawing a soft, instinctive hum from him. Slowly, his eyes cracked open, still heavy with the haze of sleep.

The sharp alertness that often defined him flickered briefly before his gaze landed on them. Almost immediately, his features softened, the edge of wariness melting into something softer.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice rough and hoarse, but so low it felt like a quiet confession.

E’s lips curved in a small, tender smile. Something in his tone, softer than anything they’d ever expected from him, made their old, dusty heart stutter in their chest. For all the years they’d walked the earth, never had they been spoken to in such a way.

“Hey,” they responded in kind, voice almost shy as their eyes traced his features—the rugged lines of his face, the way his hair stuck up slightly, the barest hint of something unguarded in his expression.

Logan shifted slightly, his arm flexing beneath their touch, though he made no move to pull away. “Leavin’ already?” he asked, the whisper still rough but edged with something else—an unspoken reluctance, maybe, or the wish to hold onto this fleeting moment a little longer.

E leaned in, their lips brushing against his temple. “Wouldn’t want people to find out they’re right about us, would we?” Their voice was tinged with light humor, but the reference to Scott’s pointed remarks during the trial still lingered between them. The subtle accusation—that it was easy for lovers to fight in sync—now felt like he had seen right through them, and they both didn’t like that.

Logan’s face turned thoughtful, a shadow of concern settling over his features. “Is there anything we can do about it?” he asked, the question heavy with the understanding that staying under the radar was going to become increasingly difficult in the days yet to come. “Turn their feelings around, maybe?”

“There might be a solution,” E said, their tone serious. “But you’re not going to like it.”

He frowned, curiosity mingled with caution. “Go on, lay it out.”

“We act like something happened between us,” they explained, eyes flickering with a hint of reluctance. “Something bad. We make them believe we can’t stand each other anymore.” They paused, studying Logan’s reaction. “It has to be convincing, Logan. Real mean. We’ll need to sell it, even if it means hurting each other in the process.”

Logan exhaled slowly, the tension in his jaw tightening as the weight of the plan settled on him. “You’re right—I don’t like it. But I see how it could work.” His eyes met theirs, resigned but resolute. “If you’re game, I’m in.”

A small smile, bittersweet and fleeting, crossed E’s lips as they leaned in and kissed his cheek. “We may have to do it more than once.”

“Yeah,” Logan said with a heavy nod. “The more we do it, the more convincing it’ll look.”

They sat in the stillness that followed, letting the warmth between them linger just a moment longer before the masks would have to come on and the distance between them would become painfully real.

The silence in the room grew heavier, the weight of what they were about to do settling over them. In a rare moment of connexion, E reached for Logan’s fingers, the tips of their own brushing against his in a soft, tentative dance. Logan’s response was immediate; he closed his hand around theirs, the warmth a brief comfort against the cold edge of reality.

“It’s a difficult time to go through,” they murmured. Their voice, barely above a whisper, carried the tremor of uncertainty. They tried to sound reassuring, though the words were as much for themselves as for him. “We need to focus on the moments we’ll be alone. Let’s not let ourselves get lost in our own lies.”

Logan nodded, his thumb moving in slow circles, brushing gently over the back of their hand. His expression was raw, the look on his face saying everything words couldn’t—the pain of what lay ahead, the quiet acceptance of it, and the unyielding resolve to shield them, even if it meant taking the fall himself.

The hurt, etched into the hard lines of his face, was a reflection of everything E felt. They both knew this was the quickest way to shift the tide, to keep E safe from the suspicion tightening around them like a noose. And if it meant bearing the brunt of it, he would—because of the fierce, protective feeling blazing in his chest, but also because he trusted them.

E let out a heavy sigh, their lips pressing into a thin line before they smoothed back the strands of his hair with their free hand, fingers brushing through the dark mess. They were about to speak when Logan’s head turned slightly, his ears twitching as he picked up the faint sound of running water. It came from the direction of Kurt’s room, judging by the echo through the walls.

Logan’s gaze shifted back to them, softer now but edged with urgency. He brought their hand to his lips, pressing a gentle, lingering, kiss to their knuckles. “You have to go,” he said, voice low and reluctant. “People are starting to wake up.”

E exhaled deeply again, the air leaving their mouth almost trembling, but they nodded. They leaned forward, pressing their forehead against his in a quiet, intimate gesture that said everything they couldn’t put into words.

“See you around, pretty boy,” they whispered, the familiar teasing lilt in their voice dulled by the reality of what was to come.

Logan gave a small nod in return, the reluctance in his eyes mirrored by the heaviness in his chest. The thought of what they were about to do—the lies they’d weave to protect their arrangement—made the air between them feel sharper, more fragile.

He watched as they slipped out of the room, the emptiness they left in their wake pressing down on him like a weight he couldn’t shake. It was a stinging sense of loss, one he knew would linger long after the door closed behind them.

Once he found himself alone, he rose from the bed, the space around him cool and empty in the absence of E. Their scent lingered faintly in the room, and his heart ached with want—no, the need—to see them, to have them against him, to touch them.

What was happening to him? Was he that far gone already? Wrapped around their little finger? His head felt foggy, exhaustion creeping in at the edges of his awareness, adding to the strange weight pressing against his chest. He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to clear his thoughts, willing the heaviness away before heading to the bathroom.

The steady patter of water as he showered grounded him, but it did little to clear the memories that crowded his mind. E’s teasing smile, their eyes dancing with mischief; the way they’d pushed and pulled at him the night before, challenging him yet surrendering with a trust so deep it shook him to his core.

The thought of it sent warmth coursing through him, a pulse that beat in time with the thrum of the water. They had told him they were a giver—always putting others first. For so long, they hadn’t allowed themselves to be selfish, maybe not ever. Only once in their long, lonely existence.

But with him, they had.

That truth sank into him, mingling with a sense of awe that twisted into longing. He knew a thing or two about keeping things—instincts, urges, emotions—in check for years, decades, centuries even. The weight of being chosen by someone who, like him, had kept their guard so high for so long was something he felt with every fiber of his soul, making him shiver with pride.

He’d known satisfaction before, shared heated moments with countless partners over the span of nearly two centuries—men and women, different faces and places—but this… this had struck deeper than he thought possible.

Rinsing the shampoo from his hair, Logan let out a breath that fogged the glass wall of his shower. His mind replayed the previous night, as if on loop: the way E had looked at him, unguarded and raw; how their movements had mirrored a kind of surrender that words couldn’t touch.

That feeling of being seen and wanted—not just as a weapon, not just as a mutant or a means to an end, but as himself. Whole. Flawed. It was dangerous, intoxicating. A craving took root in his chest, a quiet yet insistent need for more of that feeling, more of them.

Stepping out of the shower, he dried himself off, wrapping a towel around his waist before brushing his teeth. The routine motions were automatic, but his mind spun with those vivid images, heat already pooling low in his belly.

He styled his hair, the habitual tug of the comb pulling him back to the present, but not completely. Not when his senses were still keenly aware of their scent lingering on his skin despite the shower, faint but unmistakable, as if they had marked him as theirs.

One night. That’s all it had taken for them to make him theirs. He got dressed before making his bed with the practiced precision of someone who’d been a soldier for a long time, the last trace of E smoothed out beneath the taut sheets. Moving on, his hand reached for the small, worn notebook on the nightstand—a habit, a piece of routine that kept him anchored. But today, even that felt different. His eyes flicked over the scribbled notes—reminders and plans for his lectures—but they barely registered. His mind was still caught in the gravity of E’s laughter, the way it had curled around him, warm and dangerous.

Logan made his way to his desk and sat down, the notepad now forgotten in his grip. No matter how many mornings he’d seen after tangled nights, none of them carried this. None of them ever left him feeling whole the way E had, even if just for a fleeting moment—before the hollowness crept in as soon as they were gone.

His reflection caught his eye in the mirror: rougher around the edges than usual, but still carrying that stubborn resilience he never seemed to lose. Tugging at his shirt collar, he adjusted the fit of his flannel, then ran a hand through his hair to push it back into place. A breath shuddered out of him as he wrestled the knot in his chest, forcing himself to focus.

With one final glance, he made sure everything was in order—boots laced tight, notepad folded neatly on the desk’s edge, though the ghost of last night still clung to the room. He inhaled deeply, the faint scent of E lingering in the air, uninvited in the way it stirred memories too raw, too exposing.

The space felt emptier than it should, as though a piece of it—and him—had left with them. Closing his eyes briefly, he centered himself, then rose and made his way down the hallway to the mansion’s first floor.

The hum of early morning voices grew louder as he neared the kitchen. He could already pick out Jean’s quiet laughter and Scott’s steady, self-assured tone. The familiar sounds grounded him, even as a faint tug of anticipation simmered at the edges of his thoughts.

When he entered, the conversation quieted momentarily as their eyes turned toward him. Jean and Scott shared a glance, surprised to see him this late; Logan was usually here long before either of them. He nodded their way—silent, but not unfriendly—before crossing to the counter. Grabbing the coffee pot, he filled his mug and brought it close, the steam curling in the air.

He was still lost in thought when E entered, their stride confident, eyes sharp with mischief. The air shifted the moment they stepped in, crackling like an unspoken challenge. Their smile was subtle, but unmistakably smug, as if they owned the space.

“Morning, everyone,” they greeted, their voice silk, effortless. Two of the three people they addressed didn’t seem entirely comfortable, their wariness obvious, but E wore their nonchalance like armor, as though they couldn’t care less. They moved through the room with practiced ease, every motion so deliberate, so fluid, that it made Logan’s pulse quicken in a way that used to irritate him—but now, it simply thrilled him.

They made this masquerade look effortless.

Their eyes met his, a flicker of shared understanding passing between them before they glanced away, the moment hidden beneath a mask of casual indifference.

They reached for the coffee pot, their fingers brushing Logan’s where his hand rested casually on the counter. The touch was fleeting, something no one else in the room would notice, but it left a warmth that lingered between them. The slight squeeze they gave him was enough to send a silent message: brace yourself. His jaw tensed, but he masked it with a sip, his gaze hardening as he prepared for whatever came next.

“Black coffee again, Logan?” E’s voice broke the silence, playful and biting. “You ever consider trying something with flavor?” They poured themselves a cup, their smirk deepening as they glanced over their shoulder at him.

Logan’s response was automatic, rough, as he played along, letting them lead the dance of their back and forth. “Coffee’s coffee. Doesn’t need all that extra crap.”

E’s eyebrows arched, their grin widening as if they’d caught him off-guard with a well-placed jab. “Ah, a man of simple tastes. Should’ve figured.”

He met their eyes, a silent challenge sparking between them. “What’s that supposed to mean?” The words came out with an edge, but there was a tension in his chest that had nothing to do with annoyance.

“Oh, nothing.” E shrugged, taking a sip of their coffee, their eyes dancing with amusement. “Just that I thought someone with your experience might be a bit more adventurous.”

Logan felt the tension coil tight in his chest, the line between reality and performance starting to blur. He forced his expression into one of irritation, letting a spark of anger flicker in his eyes. Leaning into the feeling to give the act weight, he set his mug down with a deliberate thud.

“Careful there, sweetheart. Last time someone thought they had me figured out, it didn’t end too pretty,” he said, letting the hint of a growl seep into his voice. Jean and Scott exchanged glances, brows raising as they picked up on the shift in atmosphere.

E’s smirk grew sharper, almost daring. “Wouldn’t dream of it, old man,” they retorted, a flick of mock respect in their tone that had the others in the room shifting uncomfortably. Jean's eyes darted between them, curiosity turning into concern as the tension thickened.

Logan clenched his jaw, leaning forward just enough to invade E’s space, his face a mask of barely-contained fury. “Old man? You better watch your mouth or I’ll remind you why you don’t cross me, kid.”

Scott’s gaze snapped to them, mouth opening to intervene, but E beat him to it. They laughed, a sharp, biting sound that bounced off the walls and made Logan’s skin prickle. “Oh, I’m terrified,” they said, their words dripping with sarcasm. “Please, Logan, save the dramatics. You’re not as intimidating as you think, kitty cat.”

The silence that followed was suffocating, and Logan felt his pulse thunder in his ears. He reminded himself that this was part of the plan, that E’s sharp jabs were calculated. But damn if it didn’t cut deeper than he’d expected. He caught the brief flicker of apology in their eyes, barely noticeable to anyone but him.

Jean’s voice cut through the standoff, soft but steady. “Is everything okay here?” she asked, trying to smooth the tension with a touch of authority.

Logan didn’t break eye contact with E as he replied, “Peachy, Jeannie. Just a friendly morning chat.”

“Yeah, friendly,” E added, their tone so falsely sweet it made Jean’s frown deepen.

Scott’s eyes narrowed, suspicion clear as day. “Well, if you two are done, maybe we can all get on with our morning without the theatrics.”

Logan bit back a retort, taking a step back and grabbing his coffee cup. The room was stifling now, and he could feel the way E’s presence tugged at him even as they stood apart. “Yeah. We’re done,” he muttered before turning his back and leaving, letting the act settle like a stone in his gut.

Behind him, he heard E’s soft chuckle, a practiced sound meant to sting, and it did. But they’d both agreed—this was the way it had to be. And so, the distance began.

Logan spent the hours following the kitchen fight lost in his thoughts, the conversation replaying in his mind like a broken record. He knew it wasn’t real—that much was clear—but E’s words had hit harder than he’d anticipated. Not because there was any truth to them, but because they came from them. A part of him hated how it lingered, stirring something raw inside. He wasn’t the type to let something like this gnaw at him. He was the Wolverine, damn it. But it still dug under his skin.

He tried to shake it off, but the feeling wouldn’t fade. He needed to see them. To remind himself it was all just an act.

By the time he reached the library, the weight in his chest had grown unbearable. E was hunched over a stack of papers at one of the long oak tables, their focus intent on something that looked law-related. Figures. Logan leaned against the doorframe for a moment, watching them. He was always amazed by how easily they could shut everything else out. He let the silence hang for a beat before pushing himself off the door and making his way inside.

E glanced up when he approached, the brief flicker of relief in their eyes catching him off guard. “Logan,” they said softly, setting the pen down. The words were warm, but there was something unreadable beneath them.

“Got a minute?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost careful.

“For you? Always,” E replied, their smile faint but genuine.

Logan sat across from them, his rough hands resting on the polished surface of the table. He didn’t quite know how to start, what to say, but when he opened his mouth, the words just poured out of him, unguarded. “That stuff in the kitchen,” raw emotion coated the rough edges of his voice, “I know it’s all for show, but… damn, you didn’t hold back.”

E winced slightly, their gaze dropping to their notes. “I know. I’m sorry. I hated saying it.” They took a breath, their eyes meeting his again, darker now, their expression tight. “Unfortunately, we might need to take it up a notch. Be even more convincing.”

Logan leaned back in his chair, trying to keep his voice casual. “It’s fine. I ain’t gonna lose sleep over it.” He shot them a look, though—he wasn’t convinced by his own lie. Not entirely. “But if we need to go harder… what’s the plan?”

E’s eyes searched his face for a moment, their fingers brushing against his where they rested on the table. It was brief, but it caught him off guard, something warm and unspoken passing between them. “We make it meaner,” they said quietly, their voice low, tinged with a hint of regret. “You push me, I push back harder. We have to make them believe it’s personal.”

Logan nodded slowly, though the idea of making it worse, of biting deeper, didn’t sit well with him. “You sure you’re up for that?” he asked, his voice gruff despite himself.

“If it means we’ll have better days, then yeah, I am.” E’s hand lingered for a moment longer, their thumb tracing an absent pattern on his skin. The small touch, so simple but with the weight of everything unspoken, grounded him, a silent reassurance amid the chaos they were building. “Are you?”

The question hung in the air, and for a second, the noise of the world outside the library faded away. He exhaled slowly, the tension in his chest releasing with the breath. “Yeah. I’m in.”

A slight twitch at the corners of E’s lips. There was something almost tender in their gaze, a fleeting softness. But that moment was broken by the sound of footsteps approaching. Their expression shifted in an instant—like a switch had been flipped, delicate features hardening suddenly—and their hand pulled away from his, curling into a fist.

Before Logan could react, they smacked him across the face with a loud slap, the sound echoing in the quiet library. “Who the hell do you think you are, Howlett?” E snapped, their voice cold and cutting, each word like the crack of a whip. “Talking to me like that? You think you can just come in here and throw your weight around?”

Logan blinked, the sting of the slap still fresh on his skin, but it wasn’t just the pain that lingered—it was the venom in their tone, keen and raw, that struck deeper. A flicker of heat stirred low in his gut, unbidden and maddening, the kind of sensation that set his instincts on edge. Damn it. He hated how his body responded to the bite of it, to the fire in their eyes. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt this twisted pull, the way pain and tension tangled together in a way that left him craving more.

His gaze flicked toward the doorway, catching Hank standing there, a stack of books balanced in his arms. The doctor’s expression was frozen in surprise, his wide eyes darting between them. Logan forced the heat back, burying it under a frown.

Without missing a beat, his face twisted into a scowl, his jaw tightening as he played along. “You’re lucky I don’t throw you outta here, witch,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, practically vibrating with barely-contained intensity.

E scoffed, their eyes blazing as they leaned into the act. “Oh, don’t you worry, you rabid dog. I’m leaving. I can’t stand to breathe the same air as you right now.”

They swept up their papers in one sharp motion, the sound of rustling edges filling the heavy silence. Their shoulder brushed his as they stormed past, the contact deliberate and forceful. Logan didn’t move, his hands curling into fists on the table, every muscle in his body taut as he fought the urge to call after them—or worse, follow.

Hank stood rooted to the spot, his mouth opening slightly like he wanted to interject, but whatever words he had died before they could form. He stared after E, then shifted his gaze to Logan, clearly hesitant.

Finally, Logan broke the silence with a grunt, shoving his chair back roughly. The scrape of wood against the floor was loud in the stillness. “What’re you starin’ at, Hank?” His tone was gruff, laced with irritation, but the effort to keep the edge in his voice felt heavier than before.

Hank raised a single eyebrow, his composure sliding back into place like a well-worn mask. “I was about to ask if everything is all right, but… I suppose I already have my answer.”

Logan didn’t reply. Instead, he stalked toward the door, his steps heavy and deliberate, a growl rumbling low in his chest. The act was working. Too well, maybe. And for reasons he didn’t care to admit, that fact sat heavier in his gut than he liked.

Later that night, when sneaking into each other’s rooms wasn’t an option, they both found themselves in the forest clearing. Neither had planned it, but some unspoken pull brought them to this spot, far from the prying eyes and ears of the mansion. It was theirs—a sanctuary untouched by the chaos of their daily lives.

The clearing was quiet, the kind of stillness only the forest could hold. The soft rustle of leaves danced with the cool night breeze, and a sliver of moonlight spilled onto the grass, casting long shadows across the ground. Logan stood a few paces away, rolling his shoulders as he circled E, his gaze locked onto theirs. There was no need for pretense out here.

“You sure you wanna do this tonight?” he asked, his voice low and gruff, carrying a hint of concern that he couldn’t quite mask.

E’s lips curved into a smirk, their stance relaxed, yet poised. “What’s wrong, pretty boy? Afraid I might embarrass you?”

Logan snorted, his mouth twitching into a brief grin. “Ain’t no chance of that, darlin’. But you ain’t exactly fresh off the bench after today.”

“And you are?” E shot back, lunging forward with a quick burst of energy. Logan sidestepped with ease, their movements more familiar to him now. They twisted on their heel, throwing a jab that he caught mid-air, his hand closing firmly around their wrist. A shiver ran down their spine, stoking their hunger in the most exquisite way.

“Point taken,” he muttered, his voice tinged with amusement as he pulled them closer, his smirk returning.

The sparring unfolded in a steady rhythm, their movements fluid and purposeful. It wasn’t just a fight—it was a conversation in motion, a silent exchange of trust and challenge. Each strike, dodge, and counter carried its own cadence, a private language spoken in the dead of the night.

By the time they called it, E was sprawled on the grass, breathless and flushed, sweat glistening on their skin in a way that made Logan’s gaze linger a moment too long. He dropped down beside them, leaning his back against a tree, his eyes roaming over them as a heat that coiled low in his gut tightened, stirred by the sight of them so alive, so unguarded under the moonlight.

“You gotta work on that right hook,” he teased, the grin on his face softening the edge of his words.

E huffed, propping themselves up on their elbows. “I landed it once.”

“Once don’t make a streak, sweetheart,” Logan countered, his voice quieter now as his fingers brushed against theirs in the cool grass.

For a while, they both simply stayed there, the silence between them comfortable, filled only with the soft chirp of crickets and the distant whisper of leaves. Eventually, E sat up, leaning into Logan’s steady frame. Their hand rested lightly on his stomach, fingertips itching to slip beneath his shirt, but as his warmth enveloped them in a way that felt safe, grounding, they didn’t want to break the peace.

“It’s harder than I thought,” they said softly, the words barely breaking the stillness.

Logan turned slightly, his brow furrowing. “What is?”

“This whole thing.” E gestured vaguely at the forest, at him, at everything. “The fights. The secrecy. Hurting you. Hiding—just to be us. It’s only been one day, and I already hate it.”

Logan’s chest tightened, their words circling in his mind, refusing to settle. ‘Just to be us’. The unintentional confession lingered in the air between them, heavy and unspoken. It wasn’t just the exhaustion from the sparring session that had them speaking so openly—it was trust. Trust in him.

He looked down at them, nestled against him, their breathing steady. Their guard, that armor usually so rigid that centuries had forged, had slipped, leaving behind a version of them few ever got to see. There was a softness there, a vulnerability they rarely allowed, and it filled him with something between awe and a quiet ache. That they thought of them as a ‘us’, even subconsciously, stirred something deep in his chest—a mix of pride, longing, and adoration. That they trusted him enough to bare this side of them made his heart flutter in a way he hadn’t expected.

His hand moved without thought, his fingers brushing through their dark hair with a slow, deliberate reverence. The wavy strands slipped like silk between his fingers, tethering him in the moment, a silent reassurance that this wasn’t just a fleeting dream.

“It’s rough, Angel,” he said softly, his voice gravelly in the quiet. The nickname slipped out naturally, a little softer than usual, carrying more weight. He hesitated, letting the words sink in before adding, “But we’ll push through.”

E’s lips twitched into a faint smile, though their eyes remained fixed on his free hand, resting next to theirs on his stomach. “Yeah, I know,” they murmured. Their fingers shifted, brushing his for a moment before lacing them together. The contact felt soft, simple, yet charged with an unspoken understanding.

They exhaled, their voice tinged with frustration. “It would be easier if we could plan the fights, but we can’t. If we do, it’ll feel… off, staged. They’ll figure us out.”

Logan nodded slowly, his thumb sweeping over their knuckles in soothing circles. “You’re right. It’s gotta feel real… for them and for us.”

That last part slipped out before he could stop it, and he tensed, unsure if they’d catch the hidden meaning. E turned their head, meeting his gaze, their eyes searching his face. “And you’re okay with that?”

His lips quirked into a smirk, his defenses sliding back into place just enough. “I’ll live. Ain’t my first rodeo, sweetheart.” He reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair from their face, his hand lingering against their cheek before finding hers again. “‘Sides, I’ve had worse things thrown at me than words.”

They leaned into his touch, their eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment before reopening, their expression softening. “I hate that it has to be this way,” they admitted quietly.

Logan let out a low, thoughtful hum, lowering his head to nuzzle lightly against theirs. “Me too, Eki,” he murmured almost hesitantly, his voice softer now. “But we’ll get through it. I know we will.”

It was the first time he called them this way. The name rolled off his tongue with a warmth he hadn’t intended, but it was there all the same—gentle and intimate, carrying more weight than he realized.

They stiffened ever so slightly, not out of discomfort but surprise. A flicker of something unfamiliar sparked in their chest at the sound of it, a flutter, and a quiet warmth bloomed around it as they tilted their head to glance at him, lips parting as though to respond, but no words came. The urge to kiss him, to lick and nip at his lips gripped their gut, but they couldn’t, not without harming him.

Instead, they stayed like that, the night wrapping around them both, the stars scattered above like silent witnesses. E sighed, leaning back into him, their head resting against his chest, and he instinctively tightened his arm around them, pulling them closer.

“At least we’ve got this,” he murmured after a long stretch of silence, his voice low but heavy with meaning.

E smiled faintly, their hand squeezing his. “Yeah,” they whispered, warmth coating her tone. “This is nice.”

Logan bent his head, pressing a tender kiss to the top of hers, the gesture unhurried and sincere. “It is,” he agreed.

For now, this was enough. The clearing remained their sanctuary, a pocket of time untouched by the outside world, as they held onto each other, finding strength in their shared determination to see this through, no matter the cost. Whatever came next, they’d face it—together.

The fights had started happening more often—small sparks igniting without warning, flaring into roaring fires. Every little thing became an excuse to clash, to bruise each other for show. It was a performance they played, and the mansion was their stage. It didn’t matter what set them off—a look, a comment, a minor disagreement—each moment seemed to lead them to scrape against each other’s nerves. Yet, beneath the verbal clashes, another kind of pyre burned. This one was different, stoked not by anger but by their need to reassure each other once the curtain fell. It consumed them in private, a fire that was anything but an act.

Logan could feel it burning now, simmering, as he watched E coming out of Charles’ office. He’d been on his way to his first class of the day when his gaze landed on them, and an unexpected warmth blossomed in his chest. They looked composed, calculating as usual, every line of their body a testament to the control they wielded so effortlessly. It was that same composure that made something inside him twist—a familiar frustration, a gnawing at his gut that tainted the lukewarm affection he felt for them.

He hated it—not the ache in his gut or the sight of them, but the distance their polished exterior created. It was a weight he couldn’t shake no matter how hard he tried. Every time, it reminded him that what they had now wasn’t simple anymore, wasn’t easy. There was no space for softness between them, not in public, at least until further notice.

A sigh slipped between his lips, and he braced himself. This was the perfect opportunity, and he couldn’t let it pass. So he picked up the pace, his boots echoing in the hallway as he approached, each step deliberate. E’s eyes caught him, but they didn’t flinch, though there was a flicker of something unguarded flashing across their face—caution—just for a second before the mask fell back into place. Their poise didn’t falter, but Logan saw through it.

“Well, look who’s here,” he drawled, playing the part, his voice loud enough to draw attention, the edge in his tone slicing through the quiet of the hallway, freezing a passing student in their step. “The school’s puppet master.”

E turned to face him fully, their gaze sharp and unreadable as they assessed him. “Howlett,” they replied, stepping into their role, voice low and steady, but it carried a warning. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t start something here.”

“Oh, come on, sweetheart, I ain’t starting anything,” Logan shot back, a sly smirk tugging at his lips. “Just calling it like I see it.” He took another step, closing the gap just enough to feel the tension coil tighter between them. “You’re always scheming, aren’t you? Pulling strings, keeping everyone in line.” His voice dropped lower, each word sharper than the last. “Bet half the staff’s already eating out of your hand.”

They straightened their stance, jaw tightened, the only crack in their armor. “I’m a qualified lawyer and I’m doing my job,” they said smoothly, though the words came out clipped. “You might want to try that sometime.”

Logan let out a bitter chuckle, his tone laced with mockery. “Oh, I’m workin’ just fine, sweetheart. Don’t need your little lectures. ‘Qualified lawyer,’ huh? Tell me—what’d you do to earn that title? Cheat your way through the bar exam? Maybe pay someone off?” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, venomous growl, still very much audible to the audience gathering not far from them. “Or was it somethin’ else? Maybe you just slept your way to the top.”

The words hung in the air like a gunshot, the hallway falling deathly silent. A collective gasp rippled through the few students and staff watching the exchange, their eyes darting between the two of them, waiting for the fallout.

But against all odds, E’s face shifted, their expression a razor-thin mask of mockery, as if the words Logan had thrown at them were beneath consideration. “Watch your mouth, Howlett,” they snapped, voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “Another comment like that, and I’ll have you up for sexual harassment.”

For a moment, everything froze. The crowd held its collective breath, the charged stillness pressing in on all sides. Logan’s fists clenched against his thighs, his muscles taut as if ready to snap, to strike at something—anything—to vent the storm that seemed to be brewing inside him. His breath hissed through his teeth, the silence surrounding them hanging thick in the air, leaving only the sound of his heartbeat drumming in his ears.

A few feet from them, the door to Charles’ office swung open, its creak slicing through the tension, a subtle command that immediately stilled the room. The professor’s calm voice followed, cool and unyielding. “That will be enough.” The steady words cut through the sharp air with authority.

Every head turned as the headmaster entered the hallway, his gaze sweeping between Logan and E, the tension palpable. Logan stood bristling, fists still clenched at his sides, while E remained unflinching, their posture a perfect balance of defiance and composure.

“Logan,” Charles began, his tone measured but leaving no room for argument. “This behavior is unacceptable. Whatever concerns you have, this is not the way to address them. Such language and accusations have no place here.”

Logan’s jaw ticked, his teeth grinding together as he shot a glare toward Charles. “You don’t get it, Chuck—”

“On the contrary,” the Professor cut in, his voice firm but even. His eyes, clear and resolute, locked onto Logan’s with quiet strength. “I do. I know exactly what’s happening. But I’m telling you now: it stops here.”

The words hung in the air, firm. He shifted his gaze briefly to E, who stood calm and unaffected, their expression unreadable but charged with unspoken triumph. Logan’s chest rose and fell sharply, frustration seemingly rolling off him in palpable waves. His jaw remained clenched, posture taut, keen eyes betraying nothing but the simmering tension in his frame—a masterful performance that left no cracks for doubt.

Still, Charles continued, his focus shifting back to Logan with unwavering steadiness. “E has earned their place here,” he said, each word measured, deliberate. “Through hard work, expertise, and dedication. Qualities I expect you to recognize and respect. Whatever grievances you harbor, they do not justify this behavior.”

Logan’s chest tightened, his fists flexing against his thighs as a growl rumbled low in his throat. His eyes flicked to E, blazing with fiery defiance that looked convincingly real to anyone watching. Meanwhile, E, ever the picture of composure, turned to Charles with the ease of someone who knew how to play their cards perfectly.

“It’s fine, Professor,” they said smoothly, as if brushing off the situation as a passing annoyance. Their voice carried just enough weight to draw the attention of the onlookers. “Logan’s entitled to his opinions, misplaced as they are. My work isn’t for him to recognize—it’s for the students. That’s what matters.”

A faint murmur of admiration rippled through the crowd at E’s collected response. Logan’s shoulders tensed further, his apparent fury simmering just beneath the surface, but his eyes held a flicker of something almost imperceptible—an edge of satisfaction in how well the act was landing.

Charles nodded at E, his expression approving. “I admire your commitment, E. Truly. However,” he continued, turning back to Logan, his tone sharpening once more. “You are an example here, Logan,” he said, his words leaving no room for argument. “Consequently, I expect better from you. For now, I’d like a word with you in my office.”

Charles turned his wheelchair toward the open door, gesturing for Logan to follow. Logan didn’t move immediately, his body remaining taut, every muscle coiled as if ready to snap. His gaze stayed fixed on E for what felt like an eternity, the tension between them almost electric. But with a reluctant growl, he finally shifted, his heavy footsteps echoing as he stepped into the Professor’s office.

The door clicked shut behind him, its sound reverberating through the hall, leaving hushed conversations in its wake. The lawyer remained still for a moment, head held high, their composure unshaken as the students’ gazes lingered. Curiosity mingled with admiration in their stares, though none noticed the faint smirk curling at the corners of E’s lips—a near-invisible aura of triumph. Without a word, they turned, their stride deliberate, whispers of victory trailing behind them like shadows of their success.

In Charles’ office, the door clicked softly shut, sealing off the muffled hum of conversations outside. Logan crossed the room with deliberate strides, his arms folding tightly over his chest as he stopped in front of the Professor. His stance was taut, his brows drawn, and his jaw clenched—all the hallmarks of frustration expertly crafted into an act that, to anyone else, would seem entirely genuine.

Charles, ever composed, sat calmly behind his desk, his fingers steepled in front of him. His steady gaze met Logan’s, but the faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes betrayed an edge of knowing that Logan instantly caught. The flicker of amusement sent a ripple of unease through Logan, but he held firm to the role he’d been playing all morning.

“My friend,” Charles began, his voice smooth and measured, “I think it’s time we discuss this little… performance of yours and E’s.”

Logan’s brows furrowed, his expression hardening with practiced defiance. “If you’re about to tell me to cut it out—”

“Quite the contrary,” Charles interjected, his lips curling into the faintest smile. “You and E are charming idiots, both of you. In fact, I’d say your commitment is remarkable. The arguments are convincing. Almost too convincing.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, though the flicker of his gaze betrayed his uncertainty. “So, you knew?” he asked, his voice low, the usual gravel edged with something lighter—caught between annoyance and relief.

Charles leaned back slightly, his expression softening with patience. “Logan, I am a telepath. Nothing escapes me in this mansion. Did you really think something as… vibrant as your exchanges with E, along with your little settlement, would go unnoticed? I suspected it from the very beginning, but the confirmation came quickly enough.”

Logan shifted his weight, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away, his discomfort evident as the mask slipped from his features. “If you think it’s a waste of time—”

“I think,” Charles cut in smoothly, “that it’s clever. Effective, even. E has been earning the team’s trust far faster than they would through conventional means. Their role as the so-called ‘victim’ in your dynamic has not only won them sympathy but also admiration. And your willingness to take on the role of the aggressor,” he added, his voice dipping with warmth, “speaks volumes about your character.”

Logan’s shoulders stiffened, the compliment settling awkwardly on him. He huffed, shifting his gaze to the side. “Ain’t about me, Chuck. It’s about makin’ sure they get a shot. At the whole thing.”

Charles inclined his head slightly, his smile softening further. “Even so, it takes courage to play the villain, especially when it places you under scrutiny. Your actions show a deeper understanding of what this team needs to thrive.”

Logan scoffed, the heat creeping up his neck. “Yeah, well, don’t go spreadin’ that around. Got a reputation to keep.”

Charles chuckled softly, his amusement tinged with genuine affection. “Your secret is safe with me, Logan. Just be sure to keep the balance. This arrangement, as effective as it is, can’t come at the expense of mutual respect—or your sanity.”

Logan’s lips twitched into a faint smirk, his usual gruffness returning as he grumbled, “We’ll manage. E’s tough—they can take it. We both can.”

Charles nodded, his gaze steady. “I trust that you will. But remember, my friend, even the best performances need the occasional intermission.”

Logan snorted, the corner of his mouth tugging up in reluctant agreement. “Noted. Thanks for not blowin’ it up. Now, if we’re done here…” He gestured vaguely toward the door, his tone laced with impatience but lacking its usual edge. “Got a class to run.”

Charles waved him off with a faint smile. “Of course, my friend. Now, if you would, make a bit of a show as you leave. It wouldn’t do for the others to think you got off easy. And try not to terrorize anyone else on your way out.”

Logan smirked faintly at that before turning away. The tension in his body had eased slightly, and he inhaled deeply, drawing the simmering anger back into his gut to slip into character. With deliberate force, he yanked the door open, letting it slam against the wall. “Got it, boss,” he called over his shoulder, his voice cutting sharply through the room.

He stormed into the hallway, his boots striking the floor in heavy, echoing thuds. His scowl was perfectly crafted—a tempest of irritation that sent students scattering like leaves in a gale. Pale faces turned away, and whispers followed him, swirling in his wake.

Before he could make it far, a door to his right creaked open. A hand shot out, gripping his arm with surprising strength, and hauled him into the shadowy confines of a supply closet. The door clicked shut behind them, sealing them in near darkness.

“The hell—?” Logan grunted, his surprise barely surfacing before the familiar scent of spice and smoke wrapped around him. His glare softened in an instant, his lips twitching into something close to a smirk. “Eki?”

“Shh,” they whispered, amusement lacing their tone. They pressed closer, their presence steady and teasing. “You’re supposed to be in trouble, remember?”

Logan huffed, his eyes narrowing, though there wasn’t a trace of real irritation. “What’re you playin’ at?”

E leaned in, their hands trailing up his chest with slow, deliberate intent, pausing at his shoulders. The faint light slipping through the door’s edge slanted across their face, highlighting the wicked curve of their lips. “Heard you stomping out of Charles’ office like a wounded bear,” they murmured, their voice dripping with mock concern. “Thought I’d check on you.”

His brow twitched, the stubborn set of his jaw softening despite himself. “Checkin’ on me involves draggin’ me into a closet now?”

E’s smirk widened, their tone a mix of teasing and confidence. “Don’t act like you mind.”

Their movements were playful but edged with intent. They leaned closer, their breath warm against his neck as their lips hovered near his ear. The subtle press of their body against his sent a ripple of heat through him.

“Besides,” they whispered, their voice dipping lower, more intimate, “I wanted to tell you something.”

His hands moved to their hips without a second thought, his fingers settling naturally along the curve of their waist. “Yeah? What’s so damn important it can’t wait?”

E’s fingers drifted lazily over his arms, their touch light but electric. They tilted their head, their lips brushing his ear in a deliberate, measured move. “You were so hot when you yelled at me earlier,” they murmured, their voice a sultry purr. “All fire and fury… made me want to slap you again just to see what you’d do.”

Logan’s breath hitched, a low, guttural sound rumbling in his throat as his grip tightened on their hips, just enough to warn. “You’re playin’ with fire, Angel.”

E pulled back slightly to meet his gaze, their eyes glittering with mischief and challenge. They could feel his hunger feeding their own. “Am I?”

Their voice was soft but charged, every syllable a spark fanning the flames between them. The pull was undeniable, intoxicating, and he felt himself give in, just enough to let them reel him closer. Damn it—he didn’t want to fight it. Not this time.

“You’re lucky we’re in this closet,” Logan muttered, his voice dropping to a low, rough tone that sent a shiver through the confined space.

E tilted their head, their smirk softening into something warmer, almost tender. “Lucky?” they asked, their tone playful but carrying a trace of sincerity. “Or smart?”

A quiet huff of laughter escaped him, the tension in his hands loosening slightly as his grip softened on their hips. But his fingers stayed, a lingering reminder of the fire simmering beneath the surface. “Maybe both,” he admitted, his voice quieter now.

The air between them grew heavy, thick with a charged anticipation neither seemed willing to shatter. Time stretched, every heartbeat amplifying the pull between them, the unspoken heat crackling like a wildfire ready to ignite, a match struck on a flint.

Then, faint footsteps drifted in from the hallway—distant, but clear enough to cut through the tension.

They both froze.

Logan recovered first, his voice steady, though the faint edge in it betrayed his reluctance. “We should get outta here before someone catches us.” Yet he didn’t pull away, didn’t move to create the distance his words suggested.

E leaned in, their lips brushing lightly against the crook of his neck. The touch was fleeting, soft as a feather, yet it left a mark he couldn’t ignore. They lingered for a moment before pulling back, their voice a low murmur. “Guess so. But next time, Howlett…”

They let the words hang for a beat, their smile teasing but layered with something deeper. “You owe me a real fight.”

Logan smirked, one corner of his mouth quirking up in that familiar, roguish way that made it impossible to tell if he was amused or intrigued. He cracked the door open, peering into the hallway. Satisfied the coast was clear, he glanced back, kissing their cheek quickly and murmuring, his voice a quiet promise, “You’ll get one.”

He stepped out into the corridor like nothing had happened, his boots striking the floor with a steady, confident rhythm. The sound echoed faintly as he disappeared down the hall.

E lingered in the closet for a moment, their smile turning satisfied as they watched him go. Something flickered in their expression—anticipation, maybe hope—as they slipped out in the opposite direction, the promise of what was to come hanging thick in the air between them.

The common room resonated softly with the chatter of Ororo, Marie, and Kitty. Seated in a cozy cluster around a small table, they were quietly planning their next trip to the mall. Kitty leaned in, her eyes sparkling as she described a sweater she had spotted online, while Ororo listened with a small, indulgent smile that softened her regal demeanor. Marie occasionally chimed in, her voice warm and lilting, adding her own thoughts about colors and styles.

A few feet from them, E sat upright on the couch in the center of the room, one leg crossed over the other, a cup of tea resting steadily on their knee. They watched the television with quiet focus, as the news anchor’s voice delivered updates about local events. There was a trace of weariness in their posture, the kind of exhaustion that settled behind the eyes and hinted at a long day spent poring over legal documents.

The moment Logan entered, the room’s tranquil atmosphere shifted. He strolled in with his usual swagger, the faint scent of cigar smoke trailing him. His flannel sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing his sturdy forearms. His gaze swept the room briefly before he plopped down beside E without a word. His hand brushed their knee as he reached for the remote on the coffee table, a casual but deliberate motion that claimed space.

Click.

The news was replaced by the vibrant green of a baseball field, the roar of the crowd pouring from the speakers. A game was already in progress, the commentary animated and full of energy.

E let out an audible sigh, their lips pressing into a thin line. “Seriously?”

“Game’s on,” Logan replied casually, settling back into the couch, his feet on the coffee table, as if nothing were amiss. He didn’t even look at them, his eyes fixed on the screen, his poise relaxed but unyielding.

E’s hand shot out and snatched the remote from his grip, flicking the channel back to the news. “I was watching that.”

Logan straightened slightly, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. “Yeah? Well, now I’m watchin’ this.” He grabbed the remote again, switching it back to the game, with a decisive press on the TV clicker.

The tension between them crackled like static electricity, the air thick with unspoken challenge.

E’s jaw tightened. “Are you five? Grow up, Howlett.” With measured precision, they took the remote again and returned the television to the news. Their movements were controlled, deliberate, as though refusing to let Logan’s antics rattle them.

His eyes narrowed, his voice dropping as he leaned in. “You’ve got somethin’ to say, witch?” The word was low but sharp, cutting like a blade slipping between ribs.

Behind them, the conversation amongst the others faltered. Ororo exchanged a glance with Marie, and Kitty froze mid-laugh, her eyes darting between the two.

E didn’t rise to the bait, not at first. They simply set the clicker down on the arm of their side of the couch, their gaze fixed on Logan. “I’m trying to stay informed. Something you should try once in a while.”

Logan smirked, though there was no humor in it. “Informed, huh? That why I don’t see you in the Danger Room? Too busy stayin’ ‘informed’ to pull your weight?”

E’s expression hardened, their composure cracking slightly. “I’m not a soldier, Logan. I never signed up to be. Unlike you, I have an actual job that involves more than swinging claws or quoting history. Being a lawyer means spending hours—days, even—preparing cases, handling crises, and keeping this place from falling apart.”

“Sure,” Logan drawled, leaning back with an exaggerated shrug. “Real noble. But we’re all bustin’ our asses for this school, so what makes you so special that you can skip out on the hard work?”

E’s voice dropped, each word razor-sharp. “The work I do is just as important as your training sessions. Or do you think the contracts you sign, the legal battles I fight, and the protections I negotiate are meaningless?”

Logan chuckled darkly, the sound low and mocking. “Contracts don’t save lives when the next fight comes knockin’, sweetheart. Maybe you’re just lookin’ for excuses. It’s easier to sit on the sidelines than to get your hands dirty, huh?”

The jab landed. A flicker of hurt flashed in E’s eyes, quickly masked by steely resolve. They inhaled deeply, their voice steady but heavy with disappointment. “I thought we were on the same side, Logan.” The weight of their words hung in the air, each syllable a quiet accusation. “Guess I was wrong.”

The room’s silence was suffocating, the atmosphere unbearable.

Logan’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching on his thighs, and for a moment, it seemed like he might back down. Instead, he stood abruptly, his gaze hard and unyielding. “You don’t know the first thing about loyalty.”

The words hit like a hammer, reverberating in the heavy silence that followed. Before anyone could react, Logan turned on his heel and strode out, his boots thudding against the wooden floor with each step.

E remained seated, their face unreadable save for the faint trembling of their hand as they gripped the arm of the couch. After a moment, they set their tea down with careful precision and stood, smoothing their clothes as if to steady themselves.

“Wow,” Kitty murmured, breaking the silence. “What the hell’s his problem?”

Ororo’s gaze lingered on E, sympathy softening her sharp features. “Are you okay?”

The lawyer managed a tight smile, though it didn’t reach their eyes. “I’m fine. Thanks.” Their voice was composed, but there was a brittleness to it, like glass under strain. With a measured motion, they reached for their teacup, lifting it carefully as if it provided some small anchor in the wake of the exchange. “I should…get back to work.”

Without another word, E left the room. Their posture remained straight and unwavering, but there was something fragile in their steps, as if they carried the weight of Logan’s words with them.

Behind them, Ororo, Marie, and Kitty exchanged quiet glances, their subdued chatter shifting to murmurs about Logan’s behavior. They kept their voices low, but their concern lingered in the air, tangible and unresolved, as though the room itself hadn’t quite recovered from the tension.

The Danger Room’s hum vibrated softly in the air as the team gathered, the younger members shifting with barely contained energy while the veterans stood with their usual aura of quiet confidence. Charles’s voice rang out, calm and commanding, as he outlined the day’s objective: clearing one floor of a simulated building of hostile threats and rescuing the hostage.

As usual, people paired off naturally. Scott and Jean exchanged a glance, already stepping into position together. Ororo teamed up with Kurt, offering a serene nod in his direction. Kitty, Marie, and Bobby gravitated toward each other, chatting quietly in low voices.

That left E and Logan, awkwardly standing in the cleared center of the room, where the group had split into smaller teams around them. The silence between them bristled with unspoken tension.

Scott frowned, his visor glinting under the cold light. “Are we seriously pairing them together?”

“They did well during the trial last week,” Charles reminded him, his tone firm yet patient. “Better than anyone expected. It only makes sense for them to try working together again. And perhaps channeling that aggression as a team will mend some of it. ”

Skeptical glances passed between the team members. Logan crossed his arms, his stance as rigid as stone. E stood beside him, their posture stiff and guarded, though their eyes darted toward the others, catching every raised brow and murmured whisper. At least they didn’t sense outright hostility from the rest of the group, which was a small relief amidst the tension.

Finally, Charles’s voice cut through the room with quiet authority. “Begin the simulation.” The words were directed at Hank in the command center, where Charles was now heading as the machinery of the room began to hum louder.

The walls around the X-Men and E shifted, morphing into the interior of a crumbling high-rise. The floor beneath their feet groaned ominously, and the sound of distant gunfire echoed from somewhere above.

Logan glanced at E as they moved cautiously down a simulated hallway. “We take the stairs. Blitz ‘em all the way to the hostage. End it quick.”

E raised an eyebrow. “Blitz? That’s your plan? You think we’re going up against a horde of mindless zombies, or did I miss the memo?”

Logan growled low in his throat. “Look, sweetheart, I don’t have time for your lawyer talk. You want to win, you hit hard and fast.” He punctuated his words by striking his left palm with his right fist.

E stopped mid-step, their gaze catching on the floor layout displayed on a nearby wall. They gestured toward it, a hint of strategy sparking in their tone. “Or, we could think for more than two seconds. See this?” They pointed to a narrow corridor on the map. “That’s a bottleneck—perfect for an ambush. We lure them in, control the fight, and pick them off one by one.”

“You mean drag it out,” Logan muttered.

“Ororo?” E called out over their shoulder. “What’s your take?”

The white haired woman, walking a few feet behind with Kurt, tilted her head thoughtfully. “It’s a sound strategy. Fighting smart is just as important as fighting hard.”

Jean chimed in, her voice measured and calm. “Agreed. Brute force only gets you so far. For all we know, there could be fifty of them in there.”

Logan turned to Scott, silently hoping for backup, but his teammate merely folded his arms and gave him a look—a pointed one, like Logan had just suggested fighting blindfolded. Even Kurt’s tail twitched awkwardly, as though uncomfortable with Logan’s stubbornness.

“Fine,” Logan grumbled at last, his voice dripping with reluctance. “We’ll do it your way.”

“Good choice,” E quipped, already moving ahead.

Scott stepped forward, his visor glinting in the dim light as he addressed the team. “Here’s the plan. Storm and Nightcrawler, you’re on decoy duty—draw their attention toward the main corridor. Shadowcat, Rogue, and Iceman, you’re the scout team. Find the hostage and get them to safety. Jean, Wolverine, and E, you’re with me at the choke point. We’ll hold the line and clean up any stragglers.”

The group split seamlessly into their designated roles. Ororo and Kurt advanced toward the wide-open hall at the far end of the floor, preparing to lure the enemy, while Logan, E, and Jean moved into position at the narrow corridor for the ambush.

Ororo stepped into the open, her eyes faintly glowing as she summoned a swirling gale. A deafening crash echoed through the space as she hurled a metal filing cabinet into a crumbling wall, scattering debris and drawing immediate shouts from the mercenaries.

Kurt vanished with a soft bamf, reappearing behind two guards. Before they could react, he disarmed one with a sharp tail swipe and incapacitated the other with a swift punch. A third guard spun toward him, but a gust of wind sent the man’s weapon skidding out of reach.

“That’s our cue,” Ororo murmured, retreating into the shadows. Kurt followed, the sound of their retreat baiting the mercenaries into pursuit.

At the bottleneck, Logan crouched low, claws unsheathed, his muscles taut as he prepared for the enemy to funnel in. E stood to his left, chakrams glinting in the dim light as they adjusted their stance.

“Remember: controlled chaos,” E said lightly. “Try not to go feral too fast.”

“Funny,” Logan muttered, his eyes narrowing as the first wave of mercenaries rounded the corner.

Jean stood behind them, her focus locked as she created a shimmering telekinetic barrier to intercept the inevitable projectiles. The mercenaries opened fire, but their bullets froze mid-air, suspended like raindrops caught in time.

Logan surged forward, slashing through their ranks with brutal precision. E darted to his side, chakrams spinning in graceful arcs that deflected bullets and struck with unerring accuracy. A guard raised his weapon, only for one of E’s metal disks to slice through it before returning to their hand in a fluid motion.

“Not bad for a desk jockey,” Logan muttered, slicing through another mercenary with a savage sweep of his claws.

E smirked, ducking under a wild swing and planting a chakram squarely into an enemy’s knee. “Thanks, lumberjack. Didn’t know you even knew what a desk was.”

Logan snorted, sidestepping an incoming blow. “I know plenty. Like how not to overthink in a fight.”

E shot him a sharp look, flicking their chakram with a flourish that knocked a gun from another guard’s hand. “Overthink? Sorry, some of us like to use both brains and brawn. It’s called multitasking.”

“Focus!” Jean snapped, her barrier flickering briefly under the hail of bullets as she reinforced it with a concentrated burst of telekinetic energy.

“Scout team, status?” Scott’s voice crackled over the comms.

Kitty’s reply was calm but clipped. “Hostage located. Three guards in the room. Reinforcements heading this way. We can’t engage yet—too many nearby.”

“Understood,” Scott replied. “We’ll clear the path soon.”

“Yep, soon would be great,” Bobby’s voice chimed in, followed by the faint sound of ice cracking.

Scott turned his attention to Ororo and Kurt. “Decoy team, double back and draw reinforcements away from their position. Make it loud and chaotic.”

Ororo gave a nod and turned to Kurt with a playful smile. “Time for a distraction?”

He reached out, grabbing her hand with his blue-skinned one, his smile matching hers. “Let’s make it count.” They both vanished in another one of his characteristic bamfs.

The team at the bottleneck only heard the distant sounds of chaos—shouts, clangs, and the occasional explosion—as the decoy team created their diversion.

“Chaotic enough for you?” Kurt’s voice crackled over the comms.

“Nice work, keep going,” Scott instructed.

Not far from him, the fight intensified. More mercenaries poured in, Logan's large frame crowding them into chaotic clusters in the narrow corridor. One lobbed a grenade, but E reacted quickly, their chakrams spinning out and deflecting it into the wall. The explosion sent a shockwave rippling through the space, leaving E’s ears ringing but sparing the team from serious harm.

Logan growled, claws carving through the crowd with brutal precision. “They just keep comin’,” he muttered, elbowing a guard in the face before slashing another across the chest.

“Almost like they’re programmed to, huh?” E quipped, catching one of their chakrams mid-spin and flicking it toward an approaching guard.

Scott’s optic blast tore through the adjacent wall, collapsing part of the corridor and forcing the mercenaries into an even tighter cluster.

“Nice,” E muttered, resetting their chakrams on the hooks at the back of their shirt.

Logan, now drenched in sweat, glanced over his shoulder at Jean. “Think you can drop somethin’ on ‘em?”

Jean nodded, her telekinetic energy flaring as she wrenched a section of the crumbling ceiling down onto the remaining guards. Dust and debris filled the air, muffling the mercenaries’ groans as they scrambled to recover.

“All clear on our end,” Scott called into the comms. “Scout team, you’re up. Decoy team, escort them back.”

On cue, the younger team members escorted the hostage out, covered by Ororo and Kurt. Together, they retreated under the relentless flow of enemies, making their way to the staircase—the designated extraction point according to the simulation.

The high-rise dissolved back into the metallic walls of the Danger Room as the simulation halted.

“Nice work, team,” Charles’s voice echoed from the speakers above.

Logan rolled his shoulders, claws retracting with a metallic snakt. “Would’ve been faster my way.”

E wiped a bit of sweat from their brow, tossing him a dry look. “Faster, maybe. Messier, definitely.”

Logan smirked, something feral flickering in his eyes. “I’ll give you messy, sweetheart.”

Before E could retort, Logan lunged.

Gasps rippled through the team as his massive frame barreled toward the lawyer. But instead of bracing for impact, E moved.

They dodged to the side, fluid as water, sliding past his outstretched arms. Logan whirled around, but E was already behind him, darting away like a shadow slipping through cracks.

Their movements became a dance—graceful, calculated, almost mesmerizing. E sidestepped his strikes, ducked under his swipes, their bare feet gliding across the floor with uncanny ease. A faint smile tugged at their lips, their eyes alight with challenge.

Logan, by contrast, was all force and fury, each swing of his arms carrying enough power to send anyone else sprawling. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t catch them.

“Quit dancin’, witch,” he growled, his voice rough and strained.

“You quit swinging, old bear,” E shot back, twisting out of his grasp once more.

The onlookers watched in stunned silence. To anyone else, it might’ve looked like Logan was furious, his teeth bared and his movements unrelenting. But the subtle nuances of his posture—how his shoulders stayed loose, how his strikes never fully committed—told a different story.

And, of course, E saw everything.

Finally, Logan managed to grab them, his arms encircling their waist in a vice grip. He pressed them firmly against his chest, his breathing heavy, his pulse hammering against theirs.

From the outside, it looked like he wanted to crush them. But up close, the heat of his gaze burned with something far more intense than anger.

E’s breath hitched, and they fought to keep a smirk from curling their lips. Instead, their fingers brushed against his chest, reluctant to break the embrace, but they needed the show to keep going so they pushed him back with all their strength, slipping free of his hold.

“That’s enough!” Charles’s voice cut through the tension like a whip as he entered the room again.

Logan stepped back, his chest heaving, though the predatory gleam in his eyes didn’t fade. “Logan. E. My office. Now!”

The rest of the team stared as the two of them followed Charles’s voice toward the exit, leaving the charged silence of the Danger Room behind.

“Am I the only one who thinks that was…” Kitty began, searching for the right word.

“Terrifying?” Kurt offered.

“Hot,” Marie muttered under her breath, earning an amused eye roll from Ororo.

But no one dared say anything else.

Charles sat behind his desk, his fingers steepled as he regarded Logan and E with a calm but pointed gaze. They stood across from him, arms crossed in a near-mirror of each other, just as they had during their discussion about Logan’s contract weeks ago. However, the tension between them now was markedly less volatile than it had been back then.

“You did well today,” Charles began, his tone measured. “The training session proved that the team has accepted you, E. They trust your skills and instincts. However…”

Logan shifted his weight with a grunt, already sensing where this was headed.

“…you both need to work on mending the… tension that you’ve been projecting toward each other,” Charles continued.

E raised an eyebrow, their lips twitching with mild amusement.

Charles’s gaze flicked between them. “You’ve played this ruse of animosity so convincingly that it’s starting to unsettle the team. If they find out you’ve been misleading them, it could lead to feelings of betrayal, even resentment, and undermine all the progress you’ve worked so hard to achieve.”

“Great,” Logan muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “So what, we’re supposed to just stop fightin’ all at once?”

“Not quite,” Charles replied with a small smile. “I suggest spacing out these little arguments. Gradually lessen the intensity. Make it appear as though you’ve come to a mutual understanding over time.”

E exchanged a look with Logan, their shared exasperation reflected in his expression. “Honestly? That sounds like the most exhausting part of this entire charade.”

“No kidding,” Logan grunted. “It’s been weeks of butting heads during the day, and I hate it.”

“You hate it?” E shot back, their voice dripping with mock incredulity. “Try being on the receiving end of your constant growling.”

“Yeah, well, you’re no picnic either, sweetheart.”

Charles raised a hand, silencing them before the exchange could escalate further. “I trust the two of you can manage for the sake of the team.”

Both of them nodded, though they shared a small, sheepish smile.

“Good. That will be all for now.”

As they walked down the hall, the guarded tension dissolved entirely now that they were alone, replaced by an easy companionship they both found natural. The faint murmur of voices drifted from the dining room, and both of them slowed instinctively, ears pricking as snippets of conversation reached them.

“I think we’ve been too hard on E,” Marie was saying, her tone tinged with guilt. “They’ve got good instincts, and they’re a damn good strategist.”

“Agreed,” Ororo added. “Their fighting style is intriguing—fluid, adaptive. We could all learn something from that approach.”

Hank’s thoughtful voice joined in. “I did some research on kalaripayattu, their preferred martial art. It’s not just excellent for coordination but also sharpens the mind. A fascinating discipline.”

“You’re all missing the bigger picture,” Scott interjected, his voice edged with frustration. “Logan’s the real problem here. He’s been acting irrationally for weeks.”

Kurt spoke next, his tone hesitant but sympathetic. “He has not left the mansion in a long time. Perhaps he is… how do you say… getting cabin fever?”

“I personally think Logan is an ass, and that’s not gonna change overnight,” Scott added, drawing a few chuckles. “It’s just his basic instincts resurfacing.”

“Or maybe it’s some kind of twisted mating ritual?” Bobby quipped. “Am I the only one who noticed how they were watching each other during that fight? I couldn’t tell if they were going to kill each other or just have sex on the floor.”

Laughter rippled through the room, and Jean’s voice was the next to cut through. “I think he’s taking it out on E because they’re both such strong personalities. And, let’s face it, they couldn’t be more opposite if they tried.”

Logan and E exchanged a glance in the hallway, a slow, knowing look passing between them. A faint smile tugged at both their lips, underlining the shared triumph. Mission accomplished.

Neither of them said a word at first as they continued walking, their footsteps echoing softly against the polished floors. As they reached the next corridor, Logan glanced around, checking to see if they were alone. Then, with a swift motion, he leaned in and pressed a brief kiss to their cheek, his voice low as he murmured, “See you later, Angel.”

The warmth of his words and the kiss lingered as he turned and strode toward his room, leaving E to stand there for a moment, their fingers brushing the spot he’d kissed. They watched him disappear around the corner before turning on their heel and heading in the opposite direction, a small, lingering smile playing on their lips.

To be continued…

Notes: If you enjoyed it, don’t forget to comment and spread the love 😊 More on the way!

✨ Masterlist ✨

Don’t forget to follow the tags “Devilish Desires” and “xpressit writings” to stay tuned for the next chapters 😁

🔖 @quillycrow

[mirrorball-leclerc]

track 002. la del insta

─── ❝ todo comienza y se termina ❞ ───

masterlist // previous // next

NOVEMBER 2022

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1, isabellaperez and others

redbullracing i have been told that my previous caption was not appropriate, so here's a boring pr one scripted by salty spice himself, daniel ricciardo returns to red bull as our reserve driver. it's wonderful to have you back daniel.

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📍isabellaperez alternate caption was the honey badger is back mother fuckers!! read it and weep!!

user43 i love red bull's admin and their chaos. wonder where christian horner found them.

↳ redbullracing he found me on the streets of monaco and picked me up by the scruff of my neck and told me he had a job for me. who was i to deny salty spice?

↳ danielricciardo you would love her less if you had to see her everday.

↳ maxverstappen1 at least you got a break for a while, i've been suffering for four years

↳ estebanocon you two have it easy, i've been suffering since 2016.

↳ schecoperez i've been told to say that i've been suffering for 19 years.

↳ isabellaperez fuck you guys (except tio checo. i love you)

↳ alexalbon don't worry isa, you're my favorite red bull admin

↳ isabellaperez thank you lily's boyfriend! you're my favorite williams driver!

user07 red bull admin is checo's niece?? plot twist. honestly though, i love her.

christianhorner this is not the caption we talked about isabella.

↳ redbullracing i would say sorry but we both know it's going to happen again. it's been happening for over 4 years.

user92 she's been apart of the team longer than checo? it's kind of iconic. but why red bull and not aston martin when checo was racing with them at the time?

↳ isabellaperez aston martin didn't have a position open and red bull did. it also allowed me to travel with my uncle which i've been doing since 2011, i was only going to stop because the fia demanded it due to covid.

user59 so do you live in monaco or mexico with checo?

↳ isabellaperez used to live in LA but the influencer life was not for me (check out my youtube channel) then i was convinced by my sister and arthur to move to monaco. i travel to mexico all the time, i have to see my mami of course!

BAHRAIN 2023

the youngest mclaren driver stood off to the side, nervous for his first ever formula one grand prix. his teammate seemed less nervous, but still nervous to a certain degree. oscar truly didn't want to fuck this up, not after everything that happened in the last 6 months for him. he noticed a brunette girl staring at him from across the pitlane, she gave him a small wave before turning to go back inside the redbull garage.

the younger brunette turned to look at the slightly older one, "who was that?"

the older one turned to look at him, “you don’t stand a chance. she's checo's niece, very overprotective that man is. not excluding you know, max and daniel. take it from me, i've tried.” 

“i asked who she was not if you tried to get her number.” 

“oh, i have her number, but i have a girlfriend, you pastry. matter of fact," lando said, "you have her number too."

“it’s piastri! you know this!” oscar shouted as lando skipped, literally skipped, away from him. oscar rolled his eyes at the older drivers actions before turning to go back inside the mclaren garage.

the brunette girl stood outside the redbull garage again, with daniel ricciardo at her side. she turned to look at the empty spot oscar had once been in, then back at daniel, “can't believe i still think he's cute. he's the enemy.” 

daniel laughed, "he's not the enemy isa. you're allowed to have a crush on someone." 

isabella rolled her eyes, running a hand through her hair, “i hope him the best at shit-claren.” 

“isa!” 

the girl laughed, “it’s true!” 

redbullracing posted a new story

alexa, play the boys are back from hsm2!!! welcome home honey badger!! we've missed you!! (salty spice told me no more cursing on official red bull posts)

liked by austinriley, maejones, redbullracing and others

isabellaperez we're back people!! bahrain 2023, praying for a better result than last year. please f1 gods, don’t give us a double dnf. (but at least ferrari had a 1-2!)

tagged: redbullracing

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danieljricciardo i know you aren’t liking your posts from the official redbull racing account

↳ isabellaperez what good is it running the red bull account if i can’t like my own posts?

user82 paddock princess is back people!!

↳ isabellaperez am i royalty like charles? people’s prince and poddack princess?

↳ charles_leclerc you wish you were as cool as me

↳ isabellaperez at least i don’t wear questionable pants.

↳ georgerussell63 she got you there buddy

user75 isabella running the red bull racing account but still being a tifosi will always be hilarious to me

↳ isabellaperez corporate espionage at it's finest (i'm kidding christian, please don't fire me)

logansargeant is it considered treason if i follow you?

↳ isabellaperez idk let’s ask alex_albon, is it treason?

↳ alex_albon he’s in the groupchat? how is this treason?

↳ logansargeant good to know

logansargeant and oscarpiastri started following you

redbullracing posted a new story!

1-2 in bahrain! what a way to begin the season! congrats maxverstappen1 and schecoperez (i’ve been told by helmut that i need to be more ‘professional’ whatever that means)

duckling to get over my crush on oscar i’ve decided to ask arthur for ollie’s number.

super max oh for fucks sake, don’t do that

duckling maybe i should text austin then.

honey badger DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!

honey badger i will fucking confiscate your phone isabella estrella perez

duckling i don’t have a middle name. my sister does, it’s maria. honey badger i could not give less of a fuck. don’t you dare do such a thing.

super max I WILL CALL SEBASTIAN ISABELLA PEREZ!!

duckling don't threaten me with sebastian, max! that will do nothing!

super max added one person

honey badger had changed the group name to 'redbull's four musketeers'

paddock dad do i want to know?

super max ISABELLA WANTS TO TALK TO AUSTIN! TELL HER IT'S A BAD IDEA! duckling fuck you, you stupid maxi-pad

paddock dad isa, why would you do that?

honey badger SHE HAS A CRUSH ON OSCAR AND IS AFRAID OF LOVE! duckling i am not afraid of love. i’m afraid of falling in love, two very different things daniel super max yet another thing austin ruined for you. love along with getting a pet. paddock dad how the hell did he ruin getting a pet for her? honey badger honestly don’t remember but i think it was something along the lines of how his cousin had one and it got killed by a car. duckling i still want a dog he didn’t completely ruin that. paddock dad never let a man ruin anything for you or so my wife says

super max you might want to mute this chat seb, it was created to help isabella over any and all problems, small or big.

duckling okay fuck you verstappen

super max no thanks. i have a girlfriend. honey badger we're aware. we've heard nonsense super max do you really want to go there ricciardo? your wife wrote a song about only buying a dress so you could take it off honey badger DO YOU LIKE MAKING HER EYES ROLL VERSTAPPEN? DO YOU?

isabella had been so focused on her phone and texting back the others that she didn’t notice the person coming at her. she crashed into the person and her phone fell to the floor, landing with a loud crack. at least the crack sounded loud to her, but not louder than the ‘mierda’ she let out. she bent down to pick up her phone and so did the person she had bumped into, both reached for her phone, bumping heads.

“fuck,” isabella softly whispered, “you have a hard head,” she told the other person as she rubbed her head.

the person laughed, “guess that’s a good thing for an f1 driver.”

isabella’s eyes slightly widened when she realized who she had bumped into. she would recognize an australian accent anywhere, she had grown up near daniel ricciardo. oscar piastri was too busy inspecting her phone for any cracks to notice the expression she had made. he handed her the phone as both stood to their full heights, he was noticeably taller than her.

"no cracks," oscar told her as he handed back her phone. she smiled politely at him, "thanks."

"and your friends are blowing up your phone. i think you had like 10 messages come in while i was checking to see if it had any cracks. not that i read them-"

isabella waved him off, "it's just max and danny, they were arguing about who had the horniest songs written about them."

oscar laughed, "i'm oscar piastri."

"i know, i'm isabella perez" she replied, "i saw your alpine tweet, plus arthur talks about you a lot."

"i know," oscar replied, "arthur leclerc? you two know each other?" he questioned as they began walking together. isabella didn't know where he had originally been heading but now the two were walking back to their hotels.

"he's dating my sister, dulce? you might know her."

"oh, you're isa. i always wondered why they called you isa and not bella."

"because i will stab anyone who calls me bella," isabella emptily threatened. too enthralled on her phone she failed to notice the small smile on oscar's face.

"okay, bella."

isabella quickly looked up, glaring at him, "i'm glad you dnf'd."

"ouch," oscar dramatically muttered, "you wound me bella."

the two were interrupted by a voice shouting for oscar. they turned around and were met with the sight of alex albon and logan sargeant, both williams drivers also walking back to their hotel.

"alabono!" isabella shouted, rushing to hug the bleached-blonde. the taller driver opened his arms and accepted the hug, "hi, isa. did you have a good day?"

"no, charles dnf'd, so the ferrari in me is crying. however, the redbull in me is screaming for joy."

before alex could reply a ding interrupted him and caused isabella to look down at her phone. her eyes widened, and she handed her phone over to alex, "can you give this to max or danny later? i'm catching a flight on air-max later tomorrow."

alex nodded, "see you in glendale. or sooner."

"bye alex, bye logan, bye piastri!" isabella shouted as she ran off. logan looked confused between isabella's phone and alex, "why'd she give you her phone?"

the phone dinged again and alex sighed as he switched the phone to silent, "it's quite the story, one that either isa or dulce should tell you, not me."

"okay," logan said, he turned to oscar, "why'd she call you piastri?"

"oh, i called her bella," oscar replied, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. alex's eyes widned and logan knew their was a story there but he didn't pry. he wasn't close to any of the other drivers besides oscar, so he wasn't going to ask. he could be nosy sometimes but even he knew his limits. alex didn't want to talk about isabella's phone so maybe the phone had something to do with calling her bella.

"surprised you're still standing," alex said, "last time someone called her bella she kicked him in the nuts, and they had just met. he stopped calling her bella after that."

the two rookies exchanged looks as alex pocketed isabella's phone and pulled out his own phone and began to type furiously on it. logan's phone dinged moment's later but he ignored it, not wanting to make oscar suspicious. however, when his phone kept dinging oscar turned to him curiously and logan waved him off, silencing his phone.

"just friends from home, they were planing a party," logan quickly lied. oscar shrugged him off and logan was quick to divert the conversation to a random topic.

alex albon OSCAR CALLED HER BELLA AND HE'S STILL STANDING. NO BALLS WERE KICKED!!!!

dulce perez HE WHAT? BUT SHE HASN'T LET ANYONE CALL HER THAT FOR YEARS! EVEN AUSTIN WASN'T ALLOWED TO CALL HER BELLA

daniel riccardo THIS IS BIG NEWS PEOPLE!

lewis hamilton will you people shut up? some of us have an early flight to catch tomorrow.

fernando alonso mute them, i usually do that until the next morning. lewis hamilton i should start doing that

daniel ricciardo CARLOS DROP EVERYTHING NOW!!!

bailey winters MEET ME IN THE POURING RAIN! daniel ricciardo NOT THE TIME BAILEY! bailey winters IT IS ALWAYS THE TIME FOR DAPHNE JONES SONGS!

carlos sainz what happened? what did i miss?

arthur leclerc that's not fair, i've known her for years and i still get punched on the arm when i call her bella

dulce perez that’s because it’s usually “this is the skin of a killer bella” lando norris to be fair it’s a great line, and robert pattinson is great. team edward all the way daphne jones for legal reasons, team jacob natalia ruiz shall i tell suki lando’s in love with her boyfriend? lando norris CAN I MEET HIM? TELL ME I CAN!!

carlos sainz QUE ESTÁ PASANDO?! SOMEONE EXPLAIN!!

logan sargeant what’s the big deal with him calling her bella? it’s her name, no?

carlos sainz QUE? HE CALLED HER WHAT? dulce perez the only people allowed to call her bella was our dad, tio checo too, but ever since dad passed she hasn’t let anyone call her that. she says it was his name and only his. arthur leclerc her ex tried calling her bella and she kicked him in the nuts when they first met. he still did it every time he was angry at her. charles leclerc which was everyday and she always cried because only her dad was allowed to call her that. logan sargeant so the ex was an asshole? max verstappen biggest understatement of the year.

logan sargeant and that’s why she gave her phone to alex earlier.

mick schumacher HE TEXTED? AGAIN? I WOULD STRANGLE HIM IF I WOULDN'T LAND IN JAIL

daniel ricciardo i’m going to punch that guy. take a hint dude.

logan sargeant why don’t you guys just block him?

dulce perez oh why didn’t we try that? WE DID THAT YOU AMERICAN!

natalia ruiz seb said we needed to teach her to not reach out to him on her own. we're starting with confiscating her phone anytime he texts her and we give it to her the next day. it was hard to get where we are now, trust me. she used to fight us on it but now she just hands her phone over.

mae jones we're not quite sure what the next step is but we're making progress. maybe we can get her to block him on her own.

george russell so what exactly is the next step in operation osbella? obella? iscar? what's the official name?

fernando alonso how about 'all of you need to stop being invested in isabella's love life and go the hell to sleep?"

lando norris yes papa nando. fernando alonso that's going to stick isn't it? max verstappen absolutely lando norris 100 percent daniel ricciardo already making t-shirts lance stroll papa nando, papa seb, and uncle lewis mae jones good luck explaining that one to isa and oscar in the other groupchat.

¡leclerc-s speaks! it's austin gp weekend! (i live in california) anyways hope you enjoyed this one before quali today or after. expect more posts this weeked, maybe? i'm not sure yet.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Imagine # 1,060

Picture NOT mine.

Year posted - 2024

Rating - SFW

Reading time (Roughly) - 12 minutes

This one was actually a request, which I don't typically do, but sometimes I simply can't resist!

Tag(s) - @rishdrago

With a tired sigh (Y/n) sat the last of her groceries onto the counter in her kitchen. It was another long day at work, with another grueling case coming to a close. While she loves her job, sometimes it really takes a toll on her. But now at home all she needs to worry about is putting away her groceries, and making a quick dinner. Easy enough. If it wasn't for the sound of a floorboard creaking in the hallway that set her into fight or flight mode.

Spinning on her heel in an instant, she unholstered her pistol and aimed at the doorway to the hallway. "You really messed up you know, but if you know what's good for you, you'll come into the light nice and slow. Otherwise you're gonna leave my house in an ambulance, or a body bag." (Y/n) called out to the would be intruder, bracing herself for a potential firefight. But when the intruder rounded the corner, and came into sight, she nearly dropped her gun. "Frank?" She breathed out in a whisper, her arms falling to her sides. "Frank's dead." He muttered mournfully. "You look pretty fucking alive to me." She sassed as she holstered her pistol, knowing deep down that she could still trust Frank with her life.

The behemoth of a man simply shrugged his shoulders, taking a small first step into the room, as if he was testing the water. "What are you doing here?" She asked turning back to her groceries, while letting him come into the room at his own pace. "I killed Gianni Franco." He stated as he walked up to the other side of the counter, leaving the space between them to prove he meant her no harm. "Trust me Frank, I am well aware of that. You do realize I'm still a detective right? And I'm still friends with Jake you know, so I'm the one he goes to, to vent about you." She glanced his way, trying to get a read of his reaction to her words.

He seemed unbothered, which really didn't surprise her. "I'm sorry." Now that surprised her. Setting the box of noodles down, she turned her full attention to Frank. "Why are you apologizing to me? I'm not the one you should apologize to." She pointed out, but Frank didn't seem bothered, as he casually scratched at the scruff on his face. "Frank why are you here?" She asked now standing across from him at the counter, looking into his eyes which once swirled with so much life. "I don't know... I'm not exactly sure what to do now." He admitted.

"Jake would tell you to turn yourself in." (Y/n) mused with a small smile, her words making him chuckle softly under his breath, a sound she had missed more than she ever realized until now. "That's why I came to you." He admitted, now leaning against the counter. "I knew you wouldn't arrest me on the spot like Jake, and I could just talk to you." Frank admitted with a small smile, though it didn't reach his eyes.

"Well that's where me and Jake are different, I actually believe you're doing the world good by killing those guys. People like that have to much money and power for us to touch, and we could use a vigilante to even out the odds." She hummed as she grabbed a beer from the fridge, sliding it across the counter to Frank, who took it with a small mutter of thanks. "I knew you'd feel that way." He said before sipping his beer. "Then why didn't you come to me sooner?" She asked as she leaned again the counter.

"Because I don't want you trying to join me." He stated matter-of-factly, making (Y/n) chuckle softly. "That's fair I guess, but what's changed? Why come to me now?" She pried, hoping he would open up to her. "I had a dream about you last night." His words stuck a cord in (Y/n)'s heart, one she didn't realize was still there until now. "A dream?" She played off her nerves like a natural, making her glad she was trained to hide her true emotions, in order to effectively interrogate suspects.

"It started as a nightmare, I was reliving their deaths." She knew he was referring to his family, so she didn't pry for clarification, knowing it only hurt him to talk about them. "But before I could wake up, you appeared from the shadows. You didn't say anything, you just..." He trailed off as he stared at his beer. "You just pulled me into a hug, and held me while I cried for them." (Y/n)'s heart broke at his admittance, she knew he hated showing vulnerably before he lost his family, let alone now that he's The Punisher.

"It made me realize how much I've missed you, and I also realized I can't keep doing this alone, I can't keep being alone." He looked up to her, his eyes ever so glossy. "I know Julie would want me to move on, to come to terms with what happened. But I couldn't do that while the Franco's were still alive and free." He sipped his beer. "But now... Now I need help getting through this, and you're the only one that can help me (Y/n)." Frank wanted to hold her hand as he spoke, but he resisted the urge.

"I'll always be here for you Frank." She assured him, her words pulling a genuine smile from him. "How about I make us some dinner, and we can figure out where to go from there." She offered, smiling when he nodded in agreement. "You should stay here tonight, get a shower and have some normalcy for a change." She added. "Are you trying to say I smell bad?" He asked with a playful smirk.

"Frank dear I've been holding my breath this entire time." (Y/n) joked, making him roll his eyes, despite his smile. "Still a smartass I see." He huffed. "You wouldn't have it any other way." She sassed before pointing to the hallway. "You still remember where the guestroom is." She added, smiling when he nodded and walked off to take a shower while she cooked dinner.

"Well what are you planning on doing now that you've dealt with the Franco family?" (Y/n) asked before she finished off the last bite of her dinner. "There are still people who are not punished by the justice system." Frank stated having finished his dinner long before she had. "Are you planning on doing to them what you did to the Franco's?" She asked. "Only to those who deserve it." Frank clarified, setting (Y/n)'s mind at ease.

"I'm glad you've come to me Frank, but I'm unbelievably exhausted, and I need to get some sleep." She rose from her seat, picking up her plate, and moving to grab his. Frank took her plate, and grabbed his own. "I'll deal with the dishes, go to bed, we can talk more in the morning." He insisted. "Okay thank you." She leaned over and pecked his temple like she used to as a quick thanks. "Oh and I forgot to ask, you didn't break any windows to get in did you?" She asked.

"No don't worry, I just picked the lock on the back door." He shrugged casually. "You still have that spare key I gave you don't you?" She arched a brow at him, and his faint smile gave him away. "Goodnight Frank." She called as she walked away into the hall. "Goodnight (Y/n)." He called back to her. When (Y/n) reached her bedroom, she began shedding off her clothes, in desperate need of a warm shower before going to bed.

As the water washed over her sore muscles, (Y/n)'s mind drifted to Frank. She'd been so torn up when he was declared dead, and mourned for him and his family for many months. They were a big part of her life, they were family to her. Even though deep down (Y/n) had loved Frank in a deeper more heart wrenching way. She knew it wasn't right, she knew that then, and even now she feels guilty for it.

She never acted on it, and never intended on trying to take him as her own. He was happy and he deserved the love he already had with Julie. Now things are different, but it still doesn't feel right, even if it's been over a year since she passed. He clearly still loved her, and (Y/n) wasn't going to make a fool of herself, and potentially push him away and loose him again. Still she couldn't deny the way her heart fluttered at the sight of him again, so much more gruff and rugged.

And knowing that he trusted her enough to come to her made her head spin. By the time she finished her shower, her eyes grew heavy with sleep. Her mind was still stuck on Frank, even as she crawled between the sheets. She wondered idly if he would still be here in the morning, or if he'd ever come back when he did leave. As she began drifting to sleep, she heard the sound of the guestroom door opening and closing. Telling her he was still here, and most likely would still be come morning.

(Y/n)'s sleep was dreamless and peaceful, which was better than she'd had in weeks. While Frank's dreams were chaotic and filled with memories that still hurt him oh so deeply. He dreamt of his children, of his wife, of the look of betrayal and hurt on Jakes face. Then he dreamt of (Y/n), and her never ending acceptance of the choices he's made. He felt at ease while he dreamt of her, his tense muscles relaxing as he dreamt of walking with her beside a lake.

She always had a way of putting him at ease, just by simply being there and listening to him vent whenever he needed it. He knew she meant more to him than just a friend, but he much like her, had never intended on exploring those feelings. But now after everything, despite knowing he's putting her in danger by coming around, Frank knows he needs her. He needs her help more than ever, and he knows deep down that Julie would understand.

When morning came Frank woke up to the smell of breakfast. Something he's missed more than he realized until now. In a bit of a groggy daze Frank wondered into the kitchen, dressed in the sleep clothes he found in the closet in the guestroom. "Mornin' bud." (Y/n) mused as she pushed a fresh cup of coffee his way. "Morning." He muttered as he slipped at the hot brew, slightly surprised she remembered how he likes his coffee.

"You want some breakfast?" She asked as she pulled two plates from the cupboard. "Please." He nodded his head in agreement. "Good because I made plenty." She mused with a smile, as she placed a plate in front of him. "I'm glad you're still here and you didn't slip away in the night." She added sincerely. "I half expected that last night would be the last time I'd ever see you." Her words cut him deeper than he would have expected, but he understood where she was coming from.

"Like I said, I need your help." Frank said earnestly. "Well then, what's the plan?" She asked as she sat beside him with her own plate. "I don't really have a plan, but for now I think we'll just take it one day at a time, and figure it all out." He shrugged. "Wow the Frank Castle doesn't have a plan, that's a first." (Y/n) joked, making him chuckle. "So are you planning on staying here?" She asked a few moments later. "No I don't want to put you at risk of being caught hiding a fugitive." He shook his head.

"I appreciate that." She hummed softly, having worried a bit about that last night. "I think it'll be best if I just come in the evenings when I need... Well a shoulder to lean on I guess." He said, picking at his food a little. "And when you need patched up I imagine." She added, trying to lighten the mood a bit, and Frank agreed with a small chuckle. "Yeah I'm sure I probably will come to you when I need patched up." He smiled at her before going back to eating his breakfast. "I'll be sure to stock up on some supplies." (Y/n) mused more to herself, than to Frank.

(Y/n)'s pager went off with a shrill beeping, signaling that it was time to get to work. Her partner letting her know they already had a new case to work on. "Well that's my queue, I've gotta get going. I'll see you later Frank, don't worry about the dishes, I'll deal with that when I get home." (Y/n) moved back into the kitchen, placing her half empty plate into the sink for now. "Hey (Y/n)." Frank called to her before she could rush off. "Yeah?" She asked, turning her attention to him. "Thank you, for everything." He stood from his seat, and crossed the room, pulling her into a hug. "You're welcome Frank." She hummed as she hugged him back, feeling as though she's already made a difference in his chaotic life.

Buy me a coffee sometime? ☕️

(Click the coffee for my Kofi link, IT'S NOT NECESSARY BTW.)

I honestly couldn't think of a better way of ending this one, but I hope it was satisfactory either way. I'm a little rusty, as I haven't consistently written in ages, so I apologize if it didn't turn out as good as you hoped. (゜-゜)

[nburkhardt]

Somebody Loves You, You Got A Friend. (Part 8)

Other parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

Seeing as all my current WIPs are making me mad, I nearly forgot about this. Since it’s already written out and in my notes app, I thought I should post it lol.

Quick note: a few POV changes happen, there’s a bit of plot and I kinda bash Nancy a bit. (picks up right after part 7)

Gareth watches as Eddie falls asleep and he only knows because of how relaxed his friend looks and he pulls his eyes away to find the freshmen looking so confused.

They don’t ask anything, thankfully, but they’re not at all sneaky with their glances towards Eddie. Or the completely silent conversation they have with each other.

He just hopes whatever it’s about doesn’t involve Eddie.

Eddie’s dragging the rest of the day and Gareth is about ready to explode at how dumb his friend is being, “dude, you should’ve stayed home”

“I had to take tests, that effects my final grades” he says, “I- Ms. Click fucking hates me dude”

And unfortunately, his friend is right and he has to watch as he suffers finding his work and everything else. The rest of the day is pretty boring, the only weird thing was catching Nancy Wheeler eye Eddie during their shared class. He only noticed because he’s trying and failing at not laughing at Eddie, who’s nodding off during Mr. Smith’s lecture.

Once the final bell rings, he’s trying to find Eddie since their last class isn’t shared.

He turns the corner and nearly falls on his ass, “fuck” he mumbles and looks to see the person he ran into, “dude my bad.”

Jonathan Byers nods and helps him up, “sorry, I wasn’t paying attention either”

He’s about to say something else, when he hears an all too familiar laugh. Looking around he finds Eddie with a nasty glare aimed at Nancy Wheeler, he looks at Jonathan and wordlessly they both move towards the other two.

“I don’t fucking sell shit anymore, Wheeler and it wouldn’t be any of your business if I did!”

She crossed her arms and glares up at Eddie, “but you did sell! And it is my business!”

He can just see Eddie’s anger, before anything else happens, he steps closer to his friend and quickly grabs his arm, “Eddie let’s go, cool off before you get home, yeah?”

Eddie doesn’t answer, just glares at Nancy, “it’s not your business, he told you to stay away! That means, stay away from me too.”

He doesn’t say more, simply because Gareth punches his arm and leads him back out, “dude what the fuck?”

Eddie shakes his head and makes a beeline to the van, “Nancy is a bitch, dude.”

“I noticed, who were you talking about?”

“Stevie. Nancy believes she can get him to help her with some shit. Been like this for a year now, when Stevie and I were only just starting out with our friendship” Eddie explains with a glare aimed at nothing and his hands clutching and unclutching from frustration, “When he was only a few months pregnant, there was one morning where his mom answered the door to find her standing there and wanted her to wake him up to fucking talk about whatever”

That’s, really fucking confusing to Gareth. He looks towards the school and sees Jonathan and Nancy walk out with their brothers, “didn’t Nancy break up with Steve?”

Eddie let out a near hysterical laugh, a cigarette dangling from his mouth now, “She nearly fucking broke him, actually.”

“What?”

Eddie jumps into the drivers seat, pointing a finger to his passenger seat and he doesn’t need to be told twice. Once inside the van and Eddie starts it up, “Stevie told me that she blamed him for Barb’s death and his mom told me about how she found him sobbing about it. He said Nancy called him bullshit, that their whole relationship was bullshit.”

“Fuck dude”

He’ll never be able to look at Nancy the same, “and now she’s pushing you to what?”

Eddie scruffs and turns down his street, “Fuck, I don’t even know. She came up to me demanding to know if I knew why Stevie left school or where he is, then when I wouldn’t answer, tried saying I’m a bad influence”

He laughed, “I mean you are but not like that”

“Fuck you dude” he smiles and shakes his head, “I haven’t sold anything since I found about Ellie. Wayne pulled me aside after we told him, to tell me that I needed to stop- I mean, I already was thinking it.” He shrugs, “I don’t know why Nancy would think like that”

Gareth doesn’t either and he tells this to Eddie, the van comes to a stop in front of his home, “I don’t know either, she sounds like she’s a little obsessed with Steve.”

“I know and it’s weird, right?”

The Next Day

Eddie is woken up by Eleanor’s cry and he groans, he feels Steve stir next to him and he shushes him, “stay, I’ll grab her” he gets a hum in return and he sits up before dragging himself over to her crib.

She’s kicking her legs and wiggling trying to get out of the blanket, “hey baby” he whispers to catch her attention, she blinks up at him and whines.

Smiling, he lifts her up and rocks her, “come on, cranky.” He looks over and sees Steve smiling at him, it makes his heart beat a little faster.

Steve moves up a bit and pulls his shirt off, before he can even sit down next to him. Eleanor is no longer crying, thankfully, but Steve still makes grabby hands at him.

Laughing, he hands her over and then pulls the covers back over them before wrapping his arm around Steve. They sit in silence as Eleanor drinks and Steve drops his head onto his shoulder, “I guess it’s another long day”

Laughing softly he pressed a kiss to his head, “want me to stay home?”

“Maybe? She was so fussy yesterday, Eds.” He whispers, a hand patting her back, “even mom couldn’t get her to settle”

Later on Janet finds all three of them in bed asleep, Eleanor in Steve’s arms and Steve against Eddie. She shakes her head before going over and shaking Eddie, “Honey, don’t you have school today?”

He blinks back sleep and looks up to find her standing there, “nah, I’m skipping today. Gotta help Stevie”

She smiles, nodding before placing a kiss on their foreheads, “I’ll call the school, have one of your friends pick up your schoolwork later, okay?”

He nods and she smiles before walking out of the room and he looks down to find Steve still asleep with Eleanor snuggled against him. Sighing, he relaxes back down and decides they don’t need to get up anytime soon.

Steve is humming along to the mixtape Eddie put on to fill the kitchen as they make breakfast/lunch.

It’s currently noon and Eleanor is having tummy time in the living room with Eddie, while he’s busy making breakfast sandwiches. They slept in until nearly eleven and when they made their way downstairs, Steve found a note from his mom telling them she had several appointments today.

He can hear Eddie encouraging Eleanor to move around as he makes his way towards them with their food, when the doorbell rings. Confused, he sets the plates down and goes to the front door and through the peephole finds Nancy and Jonathan.

Even more confused and a little frustrated, he opens the door with, “Isn’t today a school day? Why are you guys here?”

They both look shocked to see him, which is weird since they’re the one’s knocking on his door.

“I’ve been trying to find you!” Nancy starts with and there’s her angry determination, “you’ve been locked up in your house?!”

Jonathan just looks uncomfortable.

Raising an eyebrow at her, he shakes his head, “uh, yes? I live here. Just because we don’t run into each other doesn’t mean I left town. Just my asshole father, now you should go back to school. Isn’t this your senior year?”

“Shouldn’t you be there with us?”

Rolling his eyes, he leans against the wall. Giving the impression of indifference, “I graduated earlier this year, through a different school. Not that it concerns you, I’ve told you before, Nancy. I’m not your boyfriend, and I’m definitely not your friend.” He then looks At Jonathan then back at her, “he’s your boyfriend, now leave me alone. Leave Eddie alone while you’re at it”

Nancy narrows her eyes at him and he can just barely smell the annoyance in the air from her scent, “So you are still friends with him? Is he the reason you dropped out? Why you won’t help with the upside down?”

“I have much more important things in life,” he thinks of carrying Eleanor for nine months, holding her and feeding her, thinks of being with Eddie and the alpha holding him like he’s the whole world, “like I said before, I was there to apologize. I stepped in when you needed help, but afterwards? We were told it was over. Will was found and is fine and safe. Shouldn’t you guys be over this?”

Neither person in front of him can give him an answer because he hears Eddie shout, “Oh Stevie! The little missy and I miss you!”

He sees the confusion on their faces and before they can ask, he slams the door in their faces. Which if he’s being honest, he should’ve done sooner. He locks the door and turns around to the ones that actually deserve his attention.

He knows, Nancy won’t give up though.

~

Yikes I completely forgot how I wrote Nancy in this 🫣 oops. Please know I DO love her but she’s just a stubborn person and can’t understand that Steve’s not involved and refuses to be involved.

I can’t believe I added plot to this lol anyway, we’ll get to more slice of life again 🥰

If you see any typos or mistakes, let me know!! Also if you have any ideas that you’d like to see, send me an ask or message! Same goes for if you want to be added to the tag list!

@spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @zerokrox-blog @callme-keys @maya-custodios-dionach @rajumat @yellowdevilkitten @munsonfamilyband @steddierthings @tartarusfairy @mx-jinxous @zombiethingy @lunaticmarunatic @carlyv @thelittleclare @estrellami-1 @epiclazershark @bookworm0690 @forest-fogg @flustratedcas @p0lybl4nkk @tiny-enthusiast @a-gae-af-racoon @blackpanzy @marvelmwah @malicia62 @solliesolesito

[girlboybug]

trash magic

"boy, you wanna hold me down and tell me that you love me?"

or the one where you get a tattoo for joel and he shows you just how much he appreciates it.

what’s playing 🎧 trash magic by lana del rey

pairing : joel miller x reader

word count : 2k

*unedited*

CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, joel is sooo super turned on by your tattoo, size kink, overstimulation, mentions of unspecified age gap, unprotected sex, tit-fucking, lots of heavy petting/groping, praise and hints of degrading, joel is a dirty depraved man muahaha

TRIGGER WARNINGS : uhh none come to mind but if there’s something that is triggering plz let me know. otherwise enjoy <3

a/n : hi guys i’m so sorry it took me FOREVER to update, i just wanted to post smth small bc i felt bad abt my lack of presence on here. i wanna say thank u so much for the love and support on my work it means the absolute WORLD to me. life has just been so draining and writing has fallen to the back burner and i HATE it but here, i hope this slightly makes up for it, i promise i have a lot in store!!

it had been just a little over a month. a little over a month without joel was time spent cruelly—longingly. and in all honesty, most people in jackson wondered why you were so distraught over his lack of presence, unable to comprehend why a young, pretty girl spent all her time trailing behind a stone-faced old man. but he was your stone-faced old man. his hard glare, monotone responses and hands that were perpetually stuck in fists, were all aspects you loved about him, despite the fact that they seemed to act as a wall to block everyone out.  but what people didn’t realize was that those walls came right back down the second it came to you. 

you figured their judgment lied in the point of view that they had of him. they only saw cold joel, unfriendly joel who had zero time for anyone except ellie and, maybe you. but they didn't see the way he was when you were alone. they didn’t see the way his face would drop all its coldness when he'd look at you, his fists following in suit and unraveling into gentle hands that would tighten around your jaw to pull you up for a kiss. instead, all they saw was a hardened old man leading on some girl young enough to be his daughter. 

and even if he was, you didn't care. it was hard to care about anything when he'd press his mouth over yours, enveloping you in and cleansing you of everything you've ever worried about the second his tongue pushed past your lips. you replayed the way his scruff felt against your skin, your bare tummy…your inner thighs. you squirmed around in the booth at the tipsy bison, ignoring the comments about how you're going to regret getting the tattoo that you did, how joel is nice and all, but he's the last guy you should be getting a tattoo for. 

you didn’t fucking care, the only thing that you did care about was how he would feel about it. and god, you hoped he liked it. you are definitely not one to handle pain all that well, and with the limited supplies cat had after tattooing ellie, you were extra nervous of all that could go wrong. but you missed joel so much, you needed something, anything, that felt like a piece of him was always with you. 

the moth sticker on the neck of his guitar always did catch your eye, and when he was gone, you’d cradle his guitar, hold it the way he would and simply stare at the sticker. you imagined him the day he stuck it on, the way he’d look down at it, and maybe even smile to himself. it made your heart just about ache at the image. 

you grew antsy to show joel the more you thought about it, but maintained what little patience you had left. you decided to keep it a surprise until you both got home, feeling as though the reveal was something that deserved to be private for you two alone. 

—

“i have a surprise for you.” you whispered excitedly, clambering into his lap. he smiled up at you, pushing his glasses into his hair and shutting his book. his eyes fell to your fingers that slowly took their time unbuttoning each little button on the flannel that…suspiciously looks a whole lot like the one that went missing from his side of the closet. 

“that so?” he hummed in that low gruff voice of his, a hot feeling stirring in his lower stomach as he watched the flannel begin to part the lower you went. 

“mhm. i hope you like it.” you murmured, swallowing hard when you pulled the flannel open. his eyes lingered on yours for a moment before traveling down to the valley of your breasts, gasping when he saw a moth decorating your skin. 

“are you out your goddamn mind?” joel exhaled in disbelief, tracing his fingers over the moth splayed across your sternum. 

your hands gripped the fabric of your flannel, fingernail rolling over the button with nerves. “are you…are you mad?” you unintentionally whimpered, and he shook his head, sitting up with you in his lap, leaning forward and pulling his glasses back down to look at it better. “no baby no but, i…i coulda given you the sticker i had,” he laughed, unable to peel his eyes off of the tattoo. you rolled your eyes jokingly but in the back of your mind, fear was starting to settle in. 

did he hate it?  

“do you like it?” you asked quietly, praying he said yes. “oh, baby i love it,” he uttered heavily, bringing his stare from your chest up to your face. he pulled you by your chin, smile still on his lips while he kissed you. you cupped his face, thumbs circling around the stubble on his jaw, a giddy feeling beginning to bubble in your tummy. 

“did it hurt?” he questioned with his lips still close to yours. you nodded, pecking him. “yeah. but i just thought of you the whole time,” you admitted truthfully, smiling fondly down at him. he shook his head, kissing you again. he made a sound of sympathy, running his thumb along your bottom lip. he stared at your chest before something clicked in him, making him flip you on your back.

he wasn’t phased by the surprised yelp that left you, instead he was focused on stopping your hands from trying to hide your bare chest with the flannel. “unh unh don’t cover up now, too pretty to be doin that,” he chastised lowly, devouring you with his eyes. you grew hot under him as he continued speaking. “looks so good on you…real good, wish i was there with ya while you got it done baby,” he groaned, hands groping your breasts, thumbs straying to caress the wings of the moth. 

you whined hushedly, arching your back into his touch. “i do too but you were gone,” you formed something like a pout, pushing an upset finger into his chest. he tsked, holding your accusatory hand to kiss your palm. “i know, i know, already said m’sorry baby,” he murmured, taking advantage of the way you softened at his actions. he trailed kisses down your jaw, murmuring more apologies for his absences. his words were enough, and all you could do was just lean into him, taking every touch and kiss he gave you happily. 

“can’t believe you did this,” he breathed out, pressing his growing bulge to your clothed core. you whined, sitting up on your elbows. your ankles lock around him eyeing him from under your eyelashes. “i just wanted to feel like you were always with me, i missed you so much joel,”

he breathed in sharply at your confessions, his cock twitching and heart racing. “oh baby,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead lovingly. “missed you too. thought about you all the time.” his hand rubbed your outer thigh making its way between your legs. “thought abt this,” he exhaled, feeling you buck down into his palm with a sweet little moan from your lips. 

“missed it s’goddamn much, missed you the most though,” he muttered, the familiar twange in his voice sparking a smile across your face. he pushed your panties to the side, gathering your slick with the pads of his fingers, his cockhead weeping with precum when it registered just how wet you were with such small touches. 

he pushed his middle finger in and wasted no time in fucking you with his digit just the way you liked. you cried out, gripping his wrist while he fucked into your little cunt with his finger, groaning to himself at how tight you felt. 

he leaned down, kissing all over the tattoo, licking and nipping at your breasts while you tangled your fingers in his hair. 

“joel—fuck, just, just—please fuck me,” you breathed out, the patience you’d been struggling to keep had finally ran out, and you couldn’t wait anymore, you needed to have him the way you’ve been craving all this time. “shit—alright, need it tha’ bad huh,” he grunted, pulling himself from out his boxers. 

he held your waist with both large hands of his, pushing inside you, burying his face in your chest and groaning loudly at the way you grip him. you cried out, nails digging into his wide back, teeth grazing his shoulder while you tried to catch your breath. 

the stretch burned and tingled, rippling through your skin and nerves in a way you hadn’t felt in so long. he pushed in and out of you slowly and gently, shaky little breaths that sounded obscene, fanned out over your lips from his parted mouth, and you breathed them all in, pulling him in closer. 

his forehead rested on yours, kissing you while his hips grounded down into yours, taking his time to appreciate how fucking good you felt all around him. utterances of f-fuck, baby poured into your mouth from his, casting a warm sensation to spread across your cheeks. 

he rocked into you, somehow going deeper with every thrust. knowing that he was filling you to the very brim sent him into a mindless delirium, and in return fastening the way he fucked you. gentleness morphed into rushed, desperation to feel you, every single inch and crevice and to make up for lost time. 

you took him in, tightening your calves around his lower back, tugging at the back of his hair while his tongue lapped at your tits and sternum, losing his mind at the fact that you’ve marked yourself as his with this moth. your bold declaration of love and dedication to him turned him on in ways he couldn’t even begin to fathom and the more he thought about it, the harder his hips crashed down into yours. 

“missed me so much you had to get something that reminded you of me tattooed on ya’,” he grunted, grabbing one of your legs and haphazardly throwing it over his shoulder, shuffling even closer to fuck you harder. you couldn’t even reply correctly, all you could do was tearfully babble, nodding stupidly. 

“love you so much joel,” you hiccuped, entire body being nearly fucked into the headboard, tits bouncing mesmerizingly with each thrust joel sends into you. 

“say it again,” he groaned, cock twitching at your open admissions. “i love you, love you love you so much,” you cried, leg beginning to tremble on top of his shoulder. 

“‘love you too baby, love you so goddamn much,” he breathed out in a rasp, shuddering a heavy sigh when you tighten and pulse all around his cock. 

he loved the way his hands just engulfed you, his hand almost covering the entirety of one of your breasts, palming your soft flesh. you were so easy to squeeze, to pick up and hold and fuck, and joel took full advantage of his strength and how palpable for him you were. 

with ease he pulled you up along with him, still impaled on his fat cock, feeling a familiar cockiness spread in his chest when you whimpered at the feeling of him so far inside of you. 

he rested on his haunches, keeping you upright with his hands gripping your hips tight, face falling into your chest once more, his beard tucking the valley of your breasts. 

your bodies flowed into each other’s fluidly, hips rolling and meeting each and every thrust like clockwork, his hips coming up only to be met with yours crashing down into his. it was addicting, you couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, could barely even remember your own name, the only thing you could manage was fucking yourself onto joel. 

“so deep,” you cried out through a series of whines and he laughed, bringing a big hand to your tummy, rubbing over where his cock bulged. you keened, lips trembling while you squeezed his shoulders. “i know baby i know,” he crooned, plastering an open mouth kiss onto you. 

he slid a hand between your wet grinding bodies to rub circles over your soaked little clit, chuckling to himself when you choked on a sob at the contact. you shook like a leaf in his arms, his sweet little angel so close, he felt it in the way your cunt gripped his cock, and it filled him with pride knowing he was the only one who could unravel you like this. 

“know you needa cum baby—you gonna ask me?” he growled in your mouth, biting your bottom lip testingly. you whimpered, arching your chest into his, a little pathetic nod following your actions. “s-sorry joel, please please let me cum, feels so good i-i dunno if i can hold it,” you whimpered, trying to fuck yourself on his cock. 

the swirls from his fingers over your clit persisted and it made you vibrate in his hold, your impending orgasm making you lose what little control you had over your own body. 

“c’mon baby give it to me, cum all over it,” he grunted gruffly, and you shook wildly, squeezing your eyes shut and collapsing in his arms while your orgasm reverberated all throughout your limbs  

“joel—oh my—fuck!” you sobbed, bouncing on his cock while you rode out your orgasm, feeling milked dry as he rubbed your clit into over sensitivity. 

“good baby, so fuckin’ good,” he drawled out lowly, patting your poor abused clit with his long fingers. “wanna do somethin’ for me?” he panted and you nodded eagerly. 

“lie back for me,” he ordered and you obeyed, laying back down onto the pillows beneath you. he begrudgingly pulled out of your tight cunt, shushing you when you whimpered at the loss of him inside you. 

he straddled you, feeling his cock ache in his rough palm when you stared up at him, resting on your elbows, cute tits perked and barely concealed from his flannel. 

he shoved the material away from your flesh, jerking himself off before he put it between your tits. “push ‘em together f’me—ahh shit, y-yeah just like that—oh shit baby, keep lookin at me like that—“ he growled under his breath, fucking your tits with hard pistons from his hips. 

“gonna cum, gonna cum on these cute fuckin’ tits baby,” he groaned, throwing his head back while you egged him on, whimpering and squeezing your thighs together at how he used your chest to cum, it was so hot seeing him fall apart on top of you, looking glorious and gorgeous even in such dirty circumstances. 

you wrapped your lips around his leaking cockhead, the corners of your mouth peeking upwards with smugness at the way he gasped and shivered at your actions. “shit,” he groaned, his own orgasm taking over his body. 

he came in your mouth, your tits still engulfing his shaft. he twitched on your tongue, whimpering to himself at the way you sucked on his tip. he pulled himself away from your plump lips, starting to soften from how sensitive he was. 

he laid beside you, pulling you into his arms once more, feeling content and right with the world when you nestled into your rightful place on his chest. 

“still in awe over you.” he murmured, running his fingertips up and down your arm. “you’ll get used to the tattoo soon,” you giggled and he shook his head. “meant you…you as a whole baby.” he whispered and you looked up at him, pupils dilating into hearts. “joel,” you uttered, leaning up to kiss him. “i love you,” you mumbled sleepily. he smiled, kissing your clammy forehead. “i love you too baby.” 

[dngrs-untld-hrshps-unnmbrd]

Sweet Little Killer

Ghoulcy | Cooper x Lucy | post S1 | touchstarved | hurt\comfort | angst | sometimes he's an asshole | there was only one bed | overprotective and jealous Ghoul | eventual smut

Those big eyes, Cooper thought, his anger rising. Those big eyes of hers were glistening with tears, and twice as pretty for it. He wondered if she knew the effect she had on men with those soulful eyes of hers. If she did, she was damn well making those tears brim on her dark lashes on purpose, trying to wrap his withered heart around her pretty little finger.

As Ghoul and Lucy journey across the wastes to New Vegas both of them learn a helluva lot more about each other, and circumstances and mutual attraction drive them into each other's arms.

Start with Chapter One

CHAPTER THREE

The ghoul shouldered into the washroom with his thumbs tucked into his belt. A moment later he came out holding a skinny, grey-haired man by the scruff of his vest and shoved him down the corridor.

‘But I haven’t finished my bath,’ the old man protested, clutching his scrubbing brush on a stick against his chest.

‘Come back later,’ the ghoul told him.

‘I’m so sorry. He wouldn’t listen. I’ll only be a minute,’ Lucy called after the poor old man.

‘Go on, vaultie.’ He jerked his head at the door. The ghoul had refused to allow her to be alone in the communal washroom unless he was with her or he cleared it out and stood guard by the door.

‘You didn’t have to kick that old man out,’ she scolded him, entering the empty washroom. There were several hip baths scattered around, and a shower in the corner.

‘The alternative is me standing over you while you bathe,’ he called after her as the door swung closed, ‘so I’m being mighty reasonable.’

This was the ghoul, being reasonable. Lucy turned on the shower and was pleasantly surprised by the clean, warmish water. The tiles were cracked and moldy, but this bathroom was luxurious compared to the rest of her existence on the surface.

‘You all right in there, vaultie?’ the ghoul called through the door.

‘yOu aLL riGhT iN tHeRE, vaULtiE?’ she mocked under her breath, soaping her hair.

‘Vaultie!’ he barked. ‘I’m coming in.’

‘I’m fine ,’ she hollered back. ‘Don’t come in.’ How could the man go from forcing her to fight Radscorpions all day to practically not allowing her to breathe without his permission? Because the man was an asshole, that’s why.

A different thought occurred to her that cooled her temper. Just what was another bounty hunter going to do to her that was worse than Radscorpions?

Probably best not to think about.

Lucy emerged a few minutes later, clean, but annoyed with the ghoul. ‘Are you going to tell me why you’re being so jumpy?’

He flashed her a glare that told her that he was less in the mood for talking now than he ever had been.

As they passed the bar on the way to their rooms, the ghoul dug in his pocket and slammed a key on a battered keyring onto the counter. 

‘We only need one room.’

Lucy took a deep, angry breath, preparing to holler at him. It was only the last-minute memory that she didn’t want to draw any attention to herself that made her whisper-shout instead. ‘One room? I can’t even sleep by myself?’

Predictably, the ghoul took her wordlessly by the elbow and steered her away.

When he unlocked the door to what was now their room, there was only one bed. Lucy sighed heavily. Of course. A double, but it was a small one. If he lay down, the ghoul’s feet would be hanging off the edge.

‘I hope you enjoy sleeping in the chair,’ she told him sweetly, gesturing at the hard wooden chair in the corner. ‘If that doesn’t suit you, I hear there’s another room available somewhere else.’

‘Chair’s fine by me,’ he muttered, sitting down and folding his arms. He stretched his long legs out and crossed them at the ankle, taking up almost all the room in the small space.

Through the grimy window, Lucy could see that it was already dark outside, and the room was chilly. She dove into bed beneath the one blanket, and took off her bra and pants under the covers. Her hair was damp, and she shivered as the bed slowly, slowly warmed up.

Muffled coughing woke her from slumber sometime later. For a moment she didn’t know where she was, and then she saw the outline of the ghoul in his chair in the darkened room. He had a fist to his lips as he fumbled inside his duster for his inhaler. His coughs grew desperate and wracking before he managed to hold the inhaler to his lips and take his medication.

The ghoul lowered his head once more with his arms folded tightly across his chest.  

As Lucy exhaled, she saw her breath. The room was freezing and the ghoul…well he wasn’t sick, but he was suffering.

Lucy got out of bed and padded toward the door.

The ghoul lifted his booted foot and placed it on the wall, blocking her way. In a gravelly voice he asked, ‘Where do you think you’re goin’?’

‘I was just going to find you a blank—’

‘Get back to bed.’ The ghoul coughed again.

‘But—'

‘Bed.’

She stood shivering in front of him. This wasn’t right. ‘Your lungs don’t like the cold, do they?’

The ghoul answered with a surly cough. He looked up at her, his eyes traveling from her bare feet, up her bare legs in just briefs, to her pebbled nipples in her tank top, and finally to her face.

She reached for his hand, coaxing him to stand up. ‘Come on. Just for a minute until you warm up.’

His dark eyes glittered in the darkness. He slowly got to his feet, shrugged out of his duster, lay his hat on the chair, and pulled off his boots.

Lucy got back into bed and scooted over to make space for him. Her heart was hammering in her chest. She’d never slept in the same bed as a man before. It had always sounded so nice. If you wanted a cuddle, there was a warm, loving body right there.

‘Just until I warm up,’ he said, getting under the blanket. The bed creaked as he lay down. Lucy moved closer and was surprised to feel heat radiating from him even though he was shivering. Ghouls must run hot.

Slowly, his body relaxed, and his eyes drifted closed. He fell asleep, which was what Lucy had hoped would happen. She drank in his face as he slept. As ravaged by radiation as he was, the ghoul was handsome. Full lips and high cheekbones. A strong body. She’d been roughly manhandled by him, but what would it feel like if he was holding her?

Lucy rolled onto her side and scooted back against him, wiggling her ass until she made contact with as much of him as possible. He was blissfully warm. She fell asleep, pretending that this was her husband, and she was safe in bed with him.

She awoke sometime later to darkness, and with a heavy arm over her hips and wrapped around her stomach. The ghoul had awoken and pulled her closer.

‘Now you’ve done it, vaultie,’ he muttered sleepily.

Biting her lip, she nestled back into him even further, and he responded by squeezing her tight. Something hard and thick nestled into the cleft of her ass.

Lucy’s eyes opened into the darkness. ‘I thought you…’

‘You assumed I couldn’t get it up because I didn’t want one of the working girls? Real nice of you. Ever think that I’m just picky, sweetheart?’ His breath was hot on the side of her neck.

This was new information.

New, interesting information.

‘Is there anyone?’ she whispered.

Heavy silence. ‘Not in this world. Not anymore.’

Before the bombs, then. ‘You remember her?’

He sighed. ‘Shit, can we change the subject? I was enjoying myself just now.’

She turned slowly in his arms, keeping herself pressed tightly against him. ‘You remember your name, don’t you?’

‘I do,’ he finally admitted. ‘But that doesn’t mean that I’m going to tell you what it is.’

‘Please,’ she implored him. ‘Please tell me.’

The ghoul opened his eyes. They were nose to nose cavity in the darkness. Her hands were against his chest. His bare hands were ever so slowly kneading her hips.

‘It’s Cooper,’ he finally said.

She smiled. ‘Cooper. It suits you.’

‘Not anymore it doesn’t, and I’m getting up.’

Cooper tried half-heartedly to get out of bed, but she clenched her hands on his shirt. ‘Please don’t. This is the most comfortable I’ve been since coming to the surface.’

He gazed at her lips. She eased her hips closer to him, needing to feel his erection against her sensitive flesh.

‘You’re gonna need a dose of RadAway if you don’t stop doing that.’

‘Then I’ll take RadAway. This sure feels nice, doesn’t it?’ She lifted her hand and touched his face.

He closed his eyes as her fingers stroked his cheek. ‘No, vaultie,’ he lied.

‘What were you like before this world?’

‘Naïve.’

She smiled ruefully. ‘Me, too. I’m trying not to be so stupid anymore.’

‘Me, too.’

‘How’s that working out for us, do you think?’ she whispered. 

He slanted his mouth over hers, kissing her with parted lips. She moaned softly, and when his tongue slid against hers, she opened her mouth wider for him.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she pressed her breasts against his chest. From the way she was arching her back, this girl was turned on. By him. A ghoul. Was this vaultie so sheltered she just didn’t know any better?

Cooper broke the kiss. ‘Does that feel good to you? I don’t know what this body feels like to anyone else.’

‘So good, Cooper,’ she whispered breathlessly. ‘What feels good to you?’

He drank in her beautiful face. ‘Anything you do, darlin’. You nearly made my heart quit beating when you touched my shoulders and compared me to my wanted poster. I’m—not used to this.’

Fuck. That’s too vulnerable. He needed to shut the hell up.

She reached down between them and pushed her hand up beneath his shirt. ‘This heart?’ Sensation exploded across his chest.

‘Mmm,’ he says, dragging a ragged breath into his lungs.

‘You feel so good, Cooper. Warm and strong.’

He was drowning in her soft, sweet adoration. It was so much. Too much.

With a groan, he rolled on top of her, pinning her beneath him as he devoured her mouth. He had no right to get his hands all over the prettiest, sweetest woman for thousands of miles around, possibly anywhere, but he was going to be selfish and do it anyway. His cock was harder than ever and he thrust it against her pussy through the thin fabric of her underwear. Lucy moaned. The sound of her made him crazy, and he slid against her again and again, both of them delighting in the friction.

He pushed her tank up and saw that she’d taken off her bra before bed. When he sucked one of her nipples into his mouth and grazed it with his teeth, she gasped and hitched her knee up to his hip, inviting more.

Pulling her briefs to one side, he slid two fingers across her sex, and discovered so much slippery wetness.

‘This for me, darlin’?’ he asked, admiring the wetness on his fingers.

She bit her lip and nodded, and then cried out as he sank his middle finger into her up to the third knuckle.

Mine, he thought, clenching his teeth on her shoulder right by her neck, and circling her clit with his thumb. Lucy moaned louder. 

He added a second finger, and that really made her yelp and clutch at him. He wasn’t trying to make her come yet. He just wanted to explore her, watch her, listen to her, as he pumped his fingers slowly in and out of her. The sweet grip of her on his fingers was making him ache to be inside her. He probably shouldn’t. He probably should make sure they had some RadAway before they did that, because he knew he wouldn’t be able to pull out of her once his cock was hammering into her and his orgasm was barrelling down on him. No way he had that kind of self-control around her, and he would end up filling her with radioactive cum.

Unsteadily, she pulled at his belt while he kept thrusting with his fingers, and it made him smile at how clumsy he was making her.

When her hand wrapped around his cock, it was his turn to lose focus. He couldn’t drag his eyes away from the sight of her touching him. There were radiation scars even on his cock, but she didn’t seem to care, her slender fingers caressing his girth.

‘You’re so thick, Cooper,’ she whispered as he thrust into her hand.

‘Fuck, stop saying my name,’ he panted.

‘Why?’

‘It’s too much, vaultie.’ He could feel his heart softening. All the protective anger he carried around was melting away. If he didn’t stay angry, he would die. Chems and anger were all that were holding his ruined body together.

‘Lucy,’ she corrected him with a caress and a smile. ‘Call me Lucy. And I want to say your name. I love your name.’

The sunshine was going to burn him alive, and it wasn’t even daylight yet.

They continued to caress each other, focusing on whatever made the other one breathe harder and moan. She came first, her thighs squeezing his hips and her pussy squeezing his fingers in a death grip. The sight of her head thrown back in pleasure was enough to make him lose it. He cupped his hand around his cock as he came, making sure he didn’t splash her with any of his cum.

After, they lay wrapped around each other with their legs tangled together. Lucy was asleep, but Cooper's mind was racing. The clarity you experience after you climax, he’d once heard it called.  

What about your man ? he wanted to ask her. That Knight in a tin can. If she wasn’t going to think about the canned Knight or talk about him, then Cooper wouldn’t either.

Cooper’s arms tightened around her. I don’t want him to have you.

He gritted his teeth, wondering what the hell he was doing, being possessive over a woman. He’d only ever felt this strongly about a woman once before in his life, and it had all but destroyed him.

Hope hadn’t been part of his life since the bombs fell and he’d lost everything. It was probably best if he and Lucy never talked about what had just happened between them. As much as it hurt him, they probably shouldn’t touch each other again either, and focus on getting to New Vegas.

With her pretty hand lying against his heart and her semi-naked body tight in his arms, Cooper knew he was in the danger zone. 

-

I just finished playing Fallout 3 and I loved it! These games have been on my list for ages but the show bumped them to the top. I started New Vegas and I'm having so much fun imagining what Cooper and Lucy are going to do there in S2. Thank you for reading!

Read Chapter Four here.

[severalforraelee]

Getaway to Hawaii: Pierre Gasly x Reader

Photo credits to motorsport.com

Word count: 2,078

Written by raelee / Posted Mar 15

Masterlist

Formula 1 Masterlist

An arm wrapping around my waist wakes me up from a deep, much needed sleep. Running after two little boys all day isn’t easy- especially with a husband gone half of the year because of his job. I snuggle back into the arm, already knowing who it is and enjoying the limited alone time that I get with him. With my eyes still closed, I feel him lean over me, kissing me on the cheek over and over again. I giggle at the action, squealing as he rubs his scruff against my skin.

“Stop it, Pierre,” I roll onto my back to look into the Frenchman’s captivating eyes.

“You don’t really want me to stop,” he teases, “This is the first time that I’ve been alone with my lovely wife in two weeks. Let me keep kissing her.”

He leans closer to me and I let him, our lips connecting in a deep kiss. His body moves so that he’s straddling me and I raise my hands, tangling them in his hair and trying to pull him closer to me, as if that’s even possible. A warm hand sneaks up my- sorry- his shirt on my body, rising higher and higher.

Then the door’s thrown open.

“Mommy.” The boy with the palest blonde hair that I’ve ever seen- God knows where he got that from- stands in the doorway to mine and Pierre’s bedroom, meeting my eyes with a guilty and shameful look on his face.

“What’s wrong, baby?” I push Pierre back gently so that I can sit up, concerned with his expression.

“I tried to go potty by myself,” Elliot responds, seconds away from crying.

It’s then that I notice the lack of pants and underwear on his lower half.

“Gross, someone got pee all over the bathroom,” his older brother decides that this is the best time to chime in, running to stand behind Elliot.

Elliot erupts into tears at Ayden’s words and I hurry out of bed, taking care to tug my shirt down before my kids can see anything. But it’s not like they haven’t seen it before.

“Sh, it’s okay, El, let’s go get you cleaned up,” I reassure the two year old, grabbing his hand. “Pierre, can you clean up the pee while I get him ready?”

I leave before he can respond, not wanting to hear his grumbling at being assigned pee clean up duty.

It’s an hour later, Elliot and Ayden playing together nicely in the living room, Elliot with his big boy pull-up on and Ayden showing off his big boy Spiderman underwear, when Pierre appears again.

He wraps his arms around me from behind, watching as I move the scrambled eggs around in the pan. His chin leans forward, resting on my shoulder as he murmurs gently into my ear.

“I can’t believe that you put me on pee clean up duty.”

“You weren’t here last time for poop clean up duty,” I wrinkle my nose at the memory.

He hums, hopefully in gratefulness, and rocks us back and forth gently. “I have been away a lot lately. I’ve missed the boys, they always seem like they’ve grown so much since I last went away.”

“They’re two and three, prime growing ages,” I respond, pushing the pan of scrambled eggs off the burner and pulling the one full of bacon onto the burner in front of me.

“Mm, I know who else is in her prime,” he flirts, kissing my neck.

I roll my eyes at his action but can’t help the little smile on my face.

“What do you say during summer break you and I sneak off to have a romantic getaway?”

“Pierre, summer break’s in three weeks. Where would we find a babysitter on such short notice? Where would we go? Where would we stay?” I question him, even just the suggestion sending me into a frenzy.

He turns me around, holding my hands in his own. “My mom already said yes to babysitting, you know how much she loves the boys. I know a little place in Hawaii, leave all of the other details to me to figure out.”

“You mean your assistant,” I raise my eyebrows at him.

He rolls his eyes but leans forward, placing a kiss on my lips.

It’s surprisingly passionate. I didn’t think he would want this romantic getaway this bad, but the kiss shows the emotions that he can’t put into words.

He pulls back, placing a final peck on my lips. “So? What do you say?”

I sigh, glancing over to the living room where Elliot and Ayden have somehow found markers and are drawing on each other with them.

“I hope your mom knows what she’s in for.”

He follows my sightline, sighing as well before beginning to walk towards the living room. “I’ve got this one.”

~

“Pierre, this is beautiful,” I gasp as we walk into the villa sitting atop Hawaii’s ocean blue water.

“Only the best for my love,” he responds, leaning in and kissing my temple.

I move to the bedroom, setting my suitcase down on a chair and pulling out my phone. One text to Pascale to check on the boys won’t hurt…

Just as I open my phone, a rough hand pulls it out of my own, setting it down on the nearby dresser. Pierre’s arms wrap around my body, caging my arms to my chest and lowering his head, resting his cheek on my own.

“None of that now, they’re in good hands,” he reassures me.

“I know, it’s just hard being away from them. I haven’t been this far away from them in three years, four if you’re counting the time that I was pregnant with Ayden.”

My body turns in his arms, his hands sliding to rest on my lower back as I wind my arms around his neck. My fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck, wanting to do something to soothe the slight anxiety I’m feeling at being away from my babies.

“So we might as well take advantage of being away from them while we can, right?” He suggests, a smirk beginning to make its way onto his face.

I narrow my eyes at him, immediately picking up on the insinuation of his words. That doesn’t stop me from kissing him back when he leans in to place his lips on mine, and I don’t protest when he guides me over to the bed.

~

I smile at the waitress as she walks away with our breakfast orders, thanking her. My gaze turns to Pierre to see him already looking at me, a smile of admiration on his lips.

“So, what do you have planned for today?” I ask, sneaking a wishful gaze at a couple riding past the beachside restaurant on jet skis.

That looks so fun.

“I didn’t plan anything for today.”

His words have my gaze returning to him and his face drops at my expression.

“What?” He questions.

“Pierre,” I pause, the dots connecting in my mind. “Did you plan anything for this trip?”

“No,” he responds, now looking like he’s regretting that choice. “I thought that you would want this time off to relax.”

“Pierre, I’ve been running after two toddlers for the past three years, I need to have something to do,” I whine, “I can’t just sit around all day.”

I feel bad complaining, since this is a lovely trip. From taking initiative of wanting us to go on it to buying plane tickets to renting the villa, it’s clear that he did put thought and effort into making this a nice, romantic getaway for both of us.

But… how many times do you get to go to Hawaii?

“I’ll fix this,” he reassures me, reaching over the table to grab my hands in his own. “Do you want to go ride jet skis today? I saw you watching them.”

I give him a shy smile, being brought back to our first date. He held my hands just like this when telling me that his job requires a lot of time and energy, but he really wanted to have a relationship with me and asked if I’d be okay with that. I’m so thankful that I said yes that night.

“I would love that.”

~

The next couple of days go by in a blur. Pierre and I went to ride on jet skis the first day, hiking to a volcano the second day, tanning on the beach and swimming in the ocean (and maybe having sex in the ocean) on the third day, and snorkeling on the fourth day.

Throughout it all I miss my boys, sneaking texts to Pascale and smiling at the photos she sends me throughout each day. By day two Pierre realizes what I’m doing, which means that I don’t have to hide the check ins anymore, showing him the goofy photos and videos that his mom sends of our sons.

“It’s so beautiful here,” I breathe out, cuddling closer into my husband’s side as we watch the last sunset of our trip. The pinks and purples and oranges swirl together over the clear water as the sun wanes in the sky.

“You’re so beautiful,” he replies quietly, “I’m so lucky to have you. You’re the perfect wife and mother to our sons, and you’re the kindest person that I know.”

I smile up at him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for planning this trip, Pierre. I really appreciate it.”

“Thank you for coming with me. I know it’s been hard for you to be away from the boys, but I’ve really enjoyed this time together.”

We sit together in silence for a while, his hand stroking my shoulder delicately.

“I really do miss you guys, you know, when I’m traveling for races.”

“We don’t doubt that you do. We really miss you, too.”

“Do you think that you and the boys would like to come out for more races? You know, more than the ones that you do right now?” He suggests.

“Uh, Pierre, I actually want to talk to you about something,” I admit nervously, sitting up on the swinging bench.

I pull back from his grip, resting my back on the armrest of the bench so that I can face him. He gives me a concerned expression, obviously unsure of the topic of discussion and my anxious behavior.

“Uh, okay,” he lets out a nervous chuckle. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine,” I soothe, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s just, I want something, and-””I want something, too,” he interrupts me, eyes lighting up at my words and the ideas of what I could want running through his mind.

“Okay, how about we say what we want together on the count of three?” He recommends.

I nod and take a deep breath. “One… two… three…”

“I want another baby.”

I squeal and he cheers as we say the same words. My hand reaches out for a high five and he connects it, pulling me into his lap with the grip.

“Look at us, we’re in sync,” he grins widely.

I laugh, leaning forward to press a sloppy and excited kiss to his lips.

“Is that why you wouldn’t come out for more races? Because you’d be pregnant?” He inquiries.

I nod. His hands rest on my hips as he stares out at the sunset, clearly trying to do some mental math.

“Well, if it’s August, and you get pregnant now,” he murmurs to himself, “You’d be due… in May, so you could still come to some of the races.”

“With two toddlers and a newborn, Pierre?” I raise my eyebrows at him, unimpressed.

He shrugs, pulling me closer to him. “We’ll figure it out.”

His lips meet mine again, one hand raising to tangle in my hair as he tries to push me even further onto him. My hands rest on his shoulders, traveling to guide along his back.

Once we run out of breath, me much sooner than him, he pulls away, planting a kiss onto my lips.

“We should get started like now, since it might take a while.”

“Of course,” I nod, smirking at him.

He can’t help but grin, pulling me in for a kiss once again.

Who knew a romantic getaway would turn into another baby?

Well, many people probably saw that coming.

[labselkie]

head hurts and i’m unnecessarily stressing over a paper and a presentation so. unluckily for you guys y’all get three big texts posts today

how it feels to go into five tangents at once

i’m going to refer to my s/i as myself in this post sorry (this counts as the mutant au,, that’s technically the main skyliv canon now, spidersona is second canon shhh. also a the mutant she has a different job)

can i let liv be stereotypically evil for a little bit. can i sit on that metal chair and giggle and kick my feet while she monologues and infodumps for an hour. tell me all the things she’s planning on doing to spider-man.

can i just. pull up to the lab one day during her lunch break to find her still hunched over her desk. she perks up like usual,, it’s a sight id never get over, before bolting over and getting a tentacle tto pick me up by the scruff (back of the shirt) and drop me in the first chair she sees

it’s like she’s got it all ready, like she rehearsed for this rehearsal. i mean when she turns the monitor around she didn’t realize she had a folder of pictures we’ve taken together open but “OH WHOOPS! DONT LOOK AT THAT, ITS FINE” and she minimizes it to a folder called “evil plans”

can i let her get into it every now nd then? even if she gets too into it, idc if she calls me her lackey or sidekick before she bursts into laughter. idc if she tosses me her goggles to hold before deciding to slide them uncomfortably over my bangs to try them on. she’s lost a lot with her work, this is the most fun she gets nowadays

the computer files make it canon that she’s had friends. but if you’re an Octavius who’s been dead set on work, i don’t know if you’re canonically destined to keep those friends

i mean, in my au she’s barely started the collider, but she’s still busy. she’s got a much more involved role in everything else at alchemax. she has to oversee funding from fisk and sponsoring miles’s school. she feels the need to consistently redesign and tweak her technology. she wants it to be perfect, she wants it to be seen

but after a bit, maybe i can help her learn that not everyone has to see her. i need to learn the same thing, but a couple people, maybe even one, can be enough

i show off liv being a “mad scientist” too much. maybe she hasn’t been consumed by her work, maybe she’s got a perfectly fine social life. if that ends up being canon for whatever reason, i’m sorry. i don’t want to take that away from her

but she’s an Octavius. like every Spider is cursed by the universe, so many with that last name must be cursed too. same with the Osborns, and the Staceys, and so many more.

But when a mutant so out of the norm just shows up at your lab one day, maybe this universe is special