#I imagine there were many a night these two were just knocked the fuck out on Kevin’s pecs

[ddejavvu]

I love your best friend with no boundaries James, and I was wondering if you could do one where James and reader are having their regularly scheduled mid-day naps, and Sirius and Remus walk into the dorm to find James just humping reader while they’re asleep? Maybe James and reader wake up to the GASP of horror from Sirius after his not so innocent eyes witness “straight up porn in their shared dorm where Peter of all people could witness”

I love all your works and was wondering if I could be marked as 😻anon? I’m the person who requested the bsf Steve imagine and I’m 100% gonna request something again because you’re perfect and I just wanna kiss you on the mouth🫶🏻🫶🏻

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Sirius considers himself James's best friend- no, brother, but he's not afraid to whack the man upside the head when he finds James grinding on you in his sleep.

"You-! Nasty-! Fucker-!" He bullies James awake, appreciating the much calmer, kinder way that Remus rouses you, tugging you away from James on the bed and murmuring that your nap is over. You blink your eyes open serenely, and James's shoot wide in pain as Sirius assaults him.

"What the fuck? Agh- Sirius! I know you're mad that I've got the better potions grade, but killing me won't help!"

"This isn't about potions, Potter," Sirius scoffs, "But I am thinking about tossing you in a hot cauldron. You were- eeugh, you were humping her, you animal!"

Your brows are furrowed and your blinks are bleary, but your brain catches up with the help of Remus's hands where they trace soothing circles on your back.

"Oh," You mumble groggily, as James groans with quickly reddening cheeks, "Uh- s'alright, Jamie."

Remus's hand stills on your back, but James and Sirius join in a fused indignant-confused "What?"

"S'just natural I guess," You shrug, "I dunno, I haven't- er, got one. But it was an accident, Jamie, you were asleep. It's alright."

James’s cheeks are still plenty rouged, but he nods sleepily at your forgiveness, relieved that he's not being hit by two people instead of only one.

"Yeah, thanks bird," He flops back down onto the mattress, letting out a sigh heavily infused with relief, "Wouldn't do it on purpose, y'know. Not while you're sleeping, that's- that's pervy."

"Some people like pervy," You hum, settling back into your own position in James's bed, though he's no longer curled around you. Sirius watches as you knock your hand against his own, "Sirius thinks I'm a perv."

"You're both pervs," Sirius grimaces, his lip curled in distaste as Remus stands from James's bedside, "Seriously, he eats off of your spoons, you've seen his dick, he's been grinding all over your ass - if you don't get a marriage license soon you're going to be very unpopular with the traditional crowd."

James turns towards you with a gasp, his eyes shining just the same as his grin does, "We could get married!"

"We should," You laugh, "And we could get a flat, and we could have your mother over for dinner every Tuesday."

"That would work." He nods, fully settled back into the pillows from Sirius's disturbance, "She loves you. And she's free Tuesday nights - her knitting circle ends at three."

"I know that," You scoff, barely biting back an overexaggerated eye roll, "James, I write your mother once a week. I know when her knitting circle is."

"You write my mum?" He rears back, momentarily confused, "She's never told me that!"

"Of course she hasn't," You snicker, "Because if you'd known, you would have stopped me from telling her how many times you get detention every week, and you'd want to share the sweets she sends me in exchange for the intel."

[rillian4e]

{Missing you}

ft& Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Alhaitham, Scaramouche

a/n: been so looong since my last post, I'm overwhelmed with exams and having to study😭🫠 trying to become more active as best as I can, so here's a little scenarios of various genshin men missing you and your body.

summary: your lover has been awfully busy these past weeks and you as well which resulted in you two rarely seeing the other, much less spending time with one another. it's late and your boyfriend finds himself desperate for you but you aren't there to help him.

sw: nsfw, fem!reader, afab, jerking off, humping for alhaitham, needy men, a little bit of size kink for wrio's part, slight pet names, lowercase writing etc.

neuvillette who finds himself buried in paperwork in his office inside the palais mermonia but he still cannot get his mind off you, how he wished he had you here with him, cockwarming him on his lap while he worked—simply imagining it makes his pants feel tight, he misses having your warm folds around his shaft, the way you'd always let out the prettiest sounds when he even slightly touched you or raised his hips... he doesn't even realize that he has long forgotten his work, his hand around his cock, spreading the pre over his length as he gave a few pumps making him groan. "hnngh...so hard and you're not here to help me, I am acting in such a vulgar way, it's embarrassing yet...yet I can't get you out of my mind..." he mumbled to himself, fantasizing that it was your lips wrapped around him, sucking him in while playing with his balls while he only fucked himself deeper in your throat, when he came, he opened his eyes to see his hand coated with his cum, "...ah, what a mess, if only you were here to clean it up." finally returning to his senses after he relieved himself, he heard a knock on the door, "monsiuer neuvillette, is everything alright?" he was caught off guard by the question of the melusine behind the door, quickly he composed himself, hoping no one would come in and see him in such an embarrassing situation. "yes, of course. there is nothing to worry about, everything is alright." now he knew he needed to take a break and have you on his lap for real, not just fantasizing about it.

—★°•☆

being the duke meant wriothesley had a lot of responsibilities and he always fulfilled them accordingly but sometimes he was tired of it, spending so many nights here without seeing his pretty angel was unbearable. he missed having you in his arms, your small body pressed against his much bigger one—not to mention having you bent over his desk while he fucked you from behind, squeezing your tits while he rubbed tight circles on your swollen clit. the way you'd always tremble and cry tears of pleasure at him being so big and mean...archons, his cock is already rock hard at the thought of having your little pussy around his length. he is quick to free his cock from his pants, teasing the slit and stroking himself as he imagined everything he'd to you when he and you finally met again. "f-fuck...gonna breed you s' much when i see you...fuck you till you can't think about anything except this dick." he growled as he looked down at his erection, letting out a groan as he reached his climax.

—☆°○★

the ever so stoic and composed alhaitham never thought he'd feel this way, he wasn't the type to be affected by such things yet he couldn't seem to stop finding himself drift his thoughts onto you, he's preoccupied with a big project and the akademiya has only gotten more hectic, so his work hours have increased which is why you two didn't have any time together. when he came home, he felt exhausted but he was so sexually pent up and his cock was already dripping pre-cum. he tried ignoring it but couldn't, so he caved in—calculative as usual, alhaitham knew you had left a pair of panties at his place, it was bad habit of yours to leave your belongings at his house, he'd surely scold you before but now he was glad that you were so careless. sitting himself down he wrapped your panties around his cock, thinking of you and getting off on your smell. the panties did little to soothe his ache for your warm cunt but he'd have to do with what he had. "miss you...miss you so much...wish it was your pussy instead of your panties," he let out little pants alongside groans, his breathing heavy and warm as he came on your underwear.

—★•°☆

who would have thought that the former sixth of the fatui harbingers, the ever so arrogant and prideful, scaramouche, would have such vulgar lewd and dirty fantasies of you, his lover while you're away in another nation. he certainly would never tell you how badly he wants you when you're away, he thinks it's humiliating but doesn't care when he knows you probably feel the same way, when you get back, he will make up for having you not be there for him to fuck and ravage as his possession. his cock hardens at the thought of having you submit to him, cry and lay there helpless as you take what he gives you. even as he pumped his hard erection, his focus went over to you—how would you react if you were here? would you get aroused to see him jerking off so shamelessly? "s-shit...shit, close," he let out a needy whine as his cum spurted out, scaramouche felt better but it wasn't nowhere near as enough, "haa...if only you were here, my pretty and obedient slut..." he sighed as he closed his eyes, thinking of you and when you will be back, hopefully soon because he cannot handle not having you there to relieve his needs.

[roturo]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ CHASING THAT FEELING

ੈ♡₊˚•. 'TILL YOU'RE MADE OF ME! gojo satoru & geto suguru (separated) ⊹˚. ♡

tags: breeding and breeding!, possesive behavior, unprotected sex, god complex, cult leader!geto suguru, crazy in love!gojo satoru, mentions of killing, mating press, overstimulation, dumbfication, tummy buldge, use of nicknames (doll, princess, love, baby, queen, house-wife), fluff if you squint your eyes to the point you can barely see. rbs & comments are appreciated! may gotten too lost writing for geto lol.

gojo satoru

this man won’t let you chase the feeling and would give it to you in a plate made for gold. It would become too much for your own good– most of the time it happened once he came back from a long and exhausting mission he needed to take care of. he was never really in a bad mood, but this mission specifically made his eyes twitch and even raise his voice at Yuuji once he came back. 

“Can you believe those fuckers made me do that?” his voice was low, sounding almost like a demand to you, “I… I could easily snap my fingers and disappear the higher ups if I wanted to. What stops me’ I’m literally a god to them” a specific hard thrust made your eyes roll, already fucked dumb with how he was using your body, like if you were just a fuck toy made for him.

“Wouldn’t that be a better idea mhm?” a small whine came out of him when his already sensitive cock was feeling that familiar sensation that made the both of you see stars, “kill them and just stay all day fuckin’ this pussy? my pussy.” his hands gripped your hips in even a more possessive way like if you’re going to escape from him any moment. “what d’ya think so doll? make you a mommy with how much cum i would dump in you, fill you up, be my little house-wife hm?”

in less than a second he had your legs up, almost breaking you in half– his thrusts becoming erratic and somehow faster than before. you could sense your night lamp blinking and some furniture shaking– gojo couldn’t take it anymore, he was so pent up this whole week he kept imagining infinite ways to fuck you and make you pregnant so he could no longer be away from you.

“Mhmgh- this fuckin’... fuck.” with that last thrust you forgot how many times you had come in the night, thinking you really just passed out because of the overpleasure, you felt gojo’s body suddenly fall into you– heavy breathing coming out of him, “are you okay baby? this was… shit.  ‘m sorry-  guess i missed you a little too much.”

geto suguru

he even got weirded up with himself after feeling something other than hate towards humans. but the way his heart softened each time he was you talking with mimiko and nanako made him feel that homely feeling again– he wouldn’t trust someone else to take care of them, fuck, he doesn’t even let manami  go inside his room but the he has you there inside taking not only care of those two small cute monsters but of him too.

“Ah… Shit- why i didn’t do this sooner?” there was a small bump adorning your tummy with how much cum there was inside you, each time expanding a lil more when geto’s cock filled you up again and again. “Fuckkkkk, should this be it? Make you mine? Fill you up and get you knocked up huh?” he thrusted inside you hard making you roll your eyes and fill your eyes with tears.

“I bet you would love that- All those stupid monkeys would be jealous, you’d be their queen, my queen– c’mon, tell me how much you want this baby.” his movements became slower, giving you some time to breathe and answer his question. face getting closer to yours he licked away the pleasure tears you’ve been displaying to him, “please ‘sugu- please make me yours- show those monkeys they have no chance with you, just… me” geto left a long groan at that, giving you no time to react and coming in once “atta’ girl,” that smirk appearing on his face, “i will keep fucking this pussy day and night until you’re made of me princess– ffuuckk-” you smiled at his words, cupping his face– eyes full of admiration towards to him even in this giddy state.

“fuck me until i belong to you my saviour” you whispered into his lips, before you could kiss him he answered, “I already do my love” he smiled and then kissed your lips– not in a hungry way, but in a way he could express what he couldn’t with words.

one of his hands crawled down until it met your nub of nerves, opening you eyes again to see his- “i can’t ‘sugu, s’much” -the pleasure was overwhelming, he was making sure you come dry, with no mercy he started rubbing that specific spot, making you arch your back, your pelvis touching his in the process. “the last one baby, i promise… i… i just have to make sure”

“please baby… make me a dad, make me yours, and i promise i will even kill all the remaining monkeys in this world for you to be mine too.” you chuckled at his sentence, giving a small peck on his lips “aw ‘sugu, you know that’s your purpose even before meeting me, the day i was born, i was made for you– i belonged to you.” “fuck baby, don’t say that, i’m only a god to those defenceless monkeys, you have all control over me.”

[loving-family-poll]

Ultimate Incest Tournament - Semifinals

Propaganda under the cut:

Sam/Dean:

I'm sorry but they have it all. children of metaphorical incest just continuing the cycle in any way they can. they are brothers and mother + son and wives and each other's scorned lovers and life partners they've had multiple infidelity arcs they are sexually psychopathic together they have forsook life and morality and the earth itself for each other and just love each other so much . They are literally in a heaven of their own making together for eternity, incestuously. Come on!!! Blueprint!!!!! It's not gay if he's your brother!!!!!

dean did stuff to sam's dead body in ahbl. i just know it

Messed-up, isolated sibs with all the daddy and abandonment issues. Their lives are so claustrophobic with the brothers no more than five feet apart in the car, a motel room, or standing next to civilians (face it, they are frigging magnets). Can't leave out that they are always touching each other to check for wounds which is a huge PLUS for any shipper.

Sam and Dean ARE literally the blowjob brothers. They walk into a situation and everyone goes well well well if it isn't the blowjob brothers....... And they say. Yep. That's us. And then they fix the situation with their epic love story

THE classic, iconic, show shopping, never done before etc. etc. incest ship. It changed fandom and it changed the world

Dave/Rose:

Daverose blondetwin sweep because they were codependent without ever meeting from growing up seeing each other in their dreams

What does it mean to be an abused teenage boy growing up alone and seeing a girl in your dreams every night who is also your best friend. and when you finally meet her you go on a suicide mission together even though nobody was asking you to die with her. and then you are the only two human beings left in the recognizable universe on a cold meteor surrounded by aliens but you’re glad it’s with her. and when you finally touch the girl from your childhood dreams she looks exactly like you. because she’s your sister

I don't have words for how good these snarky assholes are together. DaveRose is brain chemistry changing. They both put up so many fronts, and engage in so much snarky wordplay, and are constantly trying to get under each other's facade. They play off each other so well, witty and sharp, I need them to be together always

We all die & we all die alone are the two cold truths of the universe but dave and rose broke both simultaneously by ascending to godhood together

Their twincest wins because it is just so confusingly tragic? profound? dave leaving rose behind in a doomed world, dave following her to the bomb. they are both so closed & cut off & curt its hard to imagine the depth of these things. but that is their love language: giving up their lives for each other over and over, in a confusing and fumbling and heartfelt love song. i can’t say i love you but i know we’ll die together anyway. because we’re made of the exact same stuff. i’ll find you again at the last moment. that’s love.

THEY DIED TOGETHER, YOUR HONOR

Confirmed canon by the author, (something happened) between them. Parallels of dying by each other's sides in EVERY timeline. They are THE womb-to-tomb. There is nothing platonic about winking at your brother while talking about crushes, that shit is incestuous. Seer/Knight archetype. They will die protecting each other.

do you realize love someone if you don’t follow them on a suicide mission into the gaping maw of a literal fucking sun after they knock you out and psychoanalyze you in your dreams? the blueprint of the “ethereal androgynous blonde boygirl twins” trope. witch/knight dynamics. they find each other to die together in every timeline no matter what (but they’re still emotionally constipated teenagers who bicker and make fun of each other in pesterchum). kids with grown-up powers. perfect little freaks of nature. what if we looked exactly like each other’s eyes

[sv5hive]

all's well that ends well | lh44

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!reader

content warning(s): suggestive content? (like one little comment nothing outrageous

word count: 2,107

note: this is a part two to this fic! thank you to the anon who gave me the idea otherwise i would have been stuck for ages!! so happy so many of you enjoyed it and i hope you enjoy this one just as much 😚🫶🏻

(masterlist!)

you let out a shallow sigh as you gently pushed the door closed with a click. last night's fight had plagued your mind and haunted your dreams meaning you had gotten almost no sleep at all. you just wanted to get all your stuff and find a small place to rent while you looked for a more permanent place to stay.

but lewis had other plans.

"hey, baby-"

"don't call me that, lewis. i thought i made it clear last night that it was over. i thought i also made it clear that i didn't want to see you again."

"ok, ok. i'm sorry. i just, i know i fucked up. but i can make it right again. i promise."

"like how you promised we would have a normal life together? i don't want to wait anymore, lewis. i told you this already. now please, let me just get my stuff and leave."

"no, just, just hear me out on this. i can't imagine how you felt while waiting for me to finally catch up to what you realised a long time ago. but i have been in love with you since the day i met you and if i let you walk away again i would never be able to live with myself."

despite what you had said earlier, you didn't hate him. and lewis could see you weighing up the idea in your head.

"saying it is but proving it is another. otherwise your apology means nothing."

"ok. yeah, ok i can do that."

he grinned at the possibility of winning you over.

"but, i need space. so, i will be getting my stuff and leaving."

"wait! you can stay here. i'll go, it's only fair."

"don't be silly, lewis. i still have my hotel room booked don't worry about it."

"no, no, please stay here. this house is yours as much as it is mine. don't worry, i can find somewhere else to stay. i know how you get sleeping in a bed that's not yours."

he knew you too well.

"ok. uhm, thank you, lewis."

"you don't need to thank me. i'll see you soon?."

"ok, yeah. see you soon."

you thought sleeping in your own bed would help you get a good night's rest but you seemed to toss and turn for hours on end. looking to your left, the digital clock on the bedside table screamed some unreasonable time in blinding red. you huffed before realising that maybe it wasn't just the bed. after all, all those years you slept in this bed you weren't sleeping alone. eventually, you did manage to fall asleep at some ungodly hour after scrolling on your phone mindlessly. but not without pondering how lewis was planning to change your mind.

the next morning you were awoken by a knock at the door. rolling your eyes, you readied yourself to turn lewis away but instead you were met with a bouquet of flowers on the doorstep. you peeked your head out to see if the person who dropped it off was still around but it was like they had disappeared into thin air. bringing the bouquet to the kitchen to place in a vase your eyes caught notice of a note gently tucked into the leaves.

thank you for giving me a second chance. you won't regret it.

he was making it hard to stay mad at him. you pulled out your phone and sent him a quick text.

thanks for the flowers.

anything for you. and i meant what i said.

read 9:26 am

humming along to the radio, you plated up your lunch and made your way to sit at the counter to eat. the recent weather had been unusually pleasant with the sun shining all day, and you thought about going for a run outside when a text popped up on your phone.

do you have any plans tonight? it read.

you debated lying to him but you had already finished with your work that day and you found yourself wanting to see him again after a little bit more than a week of being apart. you typed out your reply after a couple of seconds.

depends. what do you have planned?

it's a surprise.

you grinned.

i'll pick you up at 6.

oh and can you wear that black dress again? the backless one?

read 12:46 pm

you felt your face go warm at the reminder of what happened the last time you wore that number. god damn it. no matter what he would always have that effect on you. looks like you had something to look forward to tonight.

you smoothed away imaginary wrinkles while obsessively checking your entire appearance over in the mirror. it felt like you were doing too much but then again, you had to show lewis what he would be losing out on if he couldn't convince you. before you could check the time there was a knock at the door.

you calmed yourself down and opened the door to come face to face with lewis.

lewis swore he felt his world stop spinning.

"you- wow. you look...as beautiful as ever. seriously, why were you ever dating me?" he eventually managed to get out, audibly breathless.

your giggles filled the air as you hoped your makeup meant he couldn't see your entire face going red.

"you look, ok." you were lying straight through your teeth. he could make a trash bag look like a designer outfit and you both knew it. he found it funny enough to let out a chuckle though so maybe it was the right move.

"oh and uh, these are for you." as he remembered the bouquet of baby's breath, white chrysanthemums and blue hyacinth in his hands that he painstakingly put together himself.

"oh they're lovely. thank you. i'll just go put these in a vase and we can go."

he couldn't mess this up now. not again.

"ok, do you plan on telling me where we're going now or is it still a surprise?" you asked locking the front door and heading towards the car.

he opened the passenger door for you as you got in.

"y'know there's a saying that goes something along the lines of 'good things come to those who wait'. you ever heard of that one?" he retorted before getting behind the wheel.

"hmmm, i don't know. doesn't really ring any bells for me."

"that's too bad because i'm still not telling you."

"fine, be that way."

he looked over at you staring out the window refusing to spare him so much as a glance. you always have been a stubborn one he thought. shaking his head with a smirk, he began driving.

you were definitely surprised when you two arrived at the restaurant you raved about months ago - you didn't think he had been fully paying attention while getting ready for bed. now sat down at the secluded booth, you couldn't help but grin at the fact while in awe of the decor. all lewis could do was admire the pure joy and glee present on your face.

"what? why are you looking at me like that?"

"like what?"

"y'know, like that."

"i don't know what you're talking about."

all the other patrons must have been irritated by the way you two couldn't stop chatting and laughing as the bottle of wine dwindled down over several courses of delicious food. but if it meant he could see you so happy after everything he put you through he was ready to pay for them all to leave.

"so i've been thinking, and, i'm ready to take the next step with you. don't worry, i'm not about to get down on one knee right now, but i just thought you should know."

"what changed your mind?"

"i should've listened to you but instead i was an idiot and i let you leave. i'm sorry for that. and everything else. i guess seeing you walk out really brought me to my senses."

"yeah? well i'm glad it did."

"and i am absolutely ready to retire and start a family with you-"

"what?" you almost spat out your wine.

"i've thought about it and i want a family with you more than anything."

"no, lewis, i won't let you do that. you love racing. you said it yourself it's your whole life!"

"not anymore. i want to be there for you and i can't do that if i'm away driving every weekend."

"i can travel while pregnant, lewis. i'd follow you until i am physically unable to and we would be waiting for you until you come back home. i know how much racing means to you and i will always support you. besides, wouldn't you love to have your kid cheer you on in the garage?"

you two were cheekily grinning now at the prospect. he couldn't believe how lucky he was to find you.

"are you sure? it's not going to be easy."

"yes, of course i am. i've been sure for years, lewis. you were the one who wasn't ready."

his smile faltered a little as he wished he could go back in time and tell himself to get his act together. he couldn't change the past but he was damn well going to change your future together.

"ok."

"ok."

to everyone else in the restaurant, it seemed like a normal date, but if lewis kept his word then it meant the start of a completely new chapter in your relationship.

"you ready for this?" you were in awe of the man stood in front of you.

"more than ready."

"stay safe, ok? we want you back in one piece."

"of course. anything for my two favourite girls."

he placed a kiss on your forehead before taking the toddler from your arms.

"you ready to see daddy race? hmm?"

lewis nuzzled his nose against hers and placed gentle kisses all over her face, prompting an endless symphony of infectious giggles.

he had been absolutely petrified when you told him you were pregnant. he wanted nothing more than a family with you but babysitting nieces and nephews was very different to having your own child. even after all the baby books, birthing classes and packing dozens of hospital bags, lewis still almost passed out when your water broke. and if you weren't in excruciating pain due to your rapidly growing contractions, you would have teased him for his panic.

soon enough, his daughter was placed into his arms for the first time and all of a sudden there was nothing to be anxious about. he could still visualise the moment perfectly and yet somehow failed to describe just how he felt looking at the little one's face. she was the perfect mixture of the two of you.

"i'm so proud of you, my love. you know that right?"

season after season, he was left fighting in the midfield when he was finally given a championship contending car to restore his former glory. it was clear to everyone that lewis was more motivated than ever and that he just needed a car good enough to take him back up to the top step. all the late night meetings and simulator runs had finally paid off, as the legendary eighth world championship was won just a few races ago.

now, as you helped him prepare for his final race in formula one, you looked fondly back on the beginning of your relationship. you had everything you always dreamed of and you wouldn't trade it for the world.

"i couldn't disappoint my biggest supporters!"

"even if you didn't win we would still be your biggest supporters! isn't that right, my sweet girl?" you tickled your daughter as she curled back into lewis' neck to evade your hands.

"thank you."

you looked back at him with furrowed brows while fussing over the toddler.

"what for?"

"for everything. for taking me back, for making me the happiest man in the universe. twice, by the way."

you beamed from ear to ear at the reminder of the wedding that awaited you next year. he had proposed to you just before you found out you were pregnant and it felt like your life was falling into place at last. studying his face, you felt content knowing that you were truly meant for each other. nothing else mattered more than what lied ahead of you and you couldn't wait to experience it with the man you had fallen in love with years ago.

"i would do it all over again in a heart beat."

note: omg. it's literally 1 am but i had to finish this before my random streak of motivation ran out. i didn't think so many people would want a part 2 like i was so shocked at how many people enjoyed part 1!! never thought i'd get 10 notes let alone 100+ you are all tooooo kind 🥹

[azrielsdove]

Love and Loss: Ch.5

Warnings: Angst, Suggestive, 18+

Ch.4 Here | Ch.6 Here

***

As if Rhysand couldn’t get any more insufferable, he was refusing to get rid of the marriage bond. You had taken to wearing long sleeves, covering the tattoo that symbolized your love for so many years. He was doing it to further upset you, annoyed that his brothers came to your aid. In his mind, everything he did was justified and as their High Lord they should have been on his side.

It took you a week to recover from his attack on your mind, plagued with awful nightmares whenever you tried to sleep. Madja had ended up giving you a sleeping daught, knocking you out for two days straight. You welcomed it, wishing you would never wake.

Azriel and Cassian had decided that one of them would remain by your side at all times. You were getting tired of their constant protectiveness, but you appreciated them more than they would ever know. They could have allowed you to die at Rhysand’s hand that night, standing by their brother as always. Instead they went directly against him, saving your life in the process. You knew they were being punished for their actions. Cassian had told you how he was trying to send them away on different missions, missions they both refused. On more than one occasion they had come back bruised and bloody, a sign of the High Lords anger.

Azriel was sitting with you in the private library, the two of you reading quietly. He was surprised you wanted to return to this room, that you still took comfort in it. You had explained that you refused to let Rhysand take all joy away from you. So he sat in the armchair across from you, a shadow whispering over your skin from time to time.

Your eyes were focused on the book in your hands, but your mind was lost in the memory that had been pulled from you the night of the attack. When you told Azriel about Rhysand, and the strange way he reacted. You had been replaying that afternoon over and over, remembering the way you he avoided you for months after that. It left an uncomfortable feeling in you, like there was something you didn’t know. Rhysand had been ever more charming after that, finding you that night to press harsh kisses on your skin. He left countless marks over you, claiming you as his. Then you thought it was endearing, romantic. Now, you weren’t so sure.

You weren’t sure if anything Rhysand ever did or said was real. As angry as you were at him, you struggled to believe your entire marriage had been a lie. A lie to, he said, ‘dangle over Azriel’s head’. You were beginning to understand there had always been more at stake, and that maybe you chose the wrong male all those years ago.

Your gaze moved up from your book, looking to the male sitting across from you. You took in the way his leg was propped on top of the other, one large hand resting on it. Your eyes traveled up his massive arms, focusing on how tiny his book seemed in his giant grip. His eyebrows were furrowed, hazel eyes moving as they read the words in front of him. You stared at the sharp angle of his jaw, the lip he was biting on as he read. The shadows swirling around him sped up, running through his hair and down his neck at the notice of you. You were overcome with desire for that to be you, to run your fingers down his neck. You imagined the sounds he would make as you touched him, the way he would moan your name when you sucked-

“Hello? You okay over there?” His words broke you out of your heated daydream, your legs squeezing tight together. You couldn’t help the low blush the covered your cheeks, coughing slightly.

“Uh, yea. Sorry. I was just, thinking.” You got out, shoving your face back into your book. You were confused by the sudden lust for your friend, and embarrassed that he had caught you staring at him.

“Okay,” he chuckled, sensing your lie. He turned back to his book, but your eyes didn’t dare move up to him again. What was going on with you?

***

Azriel’s POV

Fuck, he cursed, watching the blush spread over her cheeks. He shifted slightly, trying to cover his hard-on. He hadn’t excepted her to be looking at him like that, pupils blown wide and mouth slightly open. It took everything in him to not jump across the coffee table and take her on that sofa, make her cry out his name for everyone to hear.

He pulled his eyes back to his book, trying to push the filthy thoughts away. He was used to thinking them about her, he would admit. However, he was not used to her thinking them about him. He knew exactly what was going through her mind while her gaze roved over him, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He couldn’t help but think back to all those years ago, when he should have stopped her from going with Rhys.

He had a bad feeling when she had told him Rhys was courting her. Something stirred in his chest, a warning to protect her. He knew his brother was aware how he felt about her, and yet he still chose to peruse her. It seemed most unlike Rhys at the time, to be so blatantly disrespectful to him. The words on the page blurred as his mind went back to that day.

He flew directly to Rhys, certain that she had to be misunderstanding his intentions. He rushed into his study, pulling him out of whatever important documents he was reading. “Az!” Rhys greeted warmly, smiling at him.

Azriel did not return the warmth.

“What are you playing at?” He demanded, shadows flitting about anxiously.

“Excuse me?” Rhys asked, expression turning cold.

“You’re courting her now?” Azriel’s voice was hard, barely keeping his anger in at the wicked smile Rhys threw at him.

“Is that a problem, brother?”

“You know that it is.”

“Do I? All you said is that you think there is something between you. If she wanted you, why would she choose to go with me?”

Azriel’s temper flared, his wings spreading as his anger ran through him. “Why go after her, Rhys?”

He took in the cold eyes and cruel smile on the High Lords face, unable to believe this was the same male he had called his brother all these years. “I like a challenge, Az.”

“She isn’t a game, Rhysand.”

“Not her. You. How far are you willing to go to get the girl?” Azriel glared at the teasing look on his face, wanting to rip it off.

“I will not interrupt her happiness with you. If you truly love her, I will stand down.”

Rhys laughed. “Ever the gallant male.” He stood, walking around the desk to face Azriel. “I don’t love her yet. I do, however, love making you mad. I love the sounds she makes when she’s under me, I love the way she moans my name. Would you like to see, brother?”

Azriel’s mind was blank with rage. He hadn’t even realized he had lunged at the other male until the two of them tumbled out the window, wings beating furiously as they fought in the air. “You are a dirty bastard, Rhysand!” Azriel bellowed, the wind whipping between the two of them wickedly.

“You can do better than a little no-one fae!” Rhys yelled back, laughter on his lips.

“I won’t let you treat her like this!” Azriel went for him again, missing by an inch as Rhys dodged his grasp.

“I treat her wonderfully. She feels loved and happy, does she not? She’s certainly beautiful enough to be the wife of the High Lord, wouldn’t you agree?”

“You disgust me.”

“Ah, but do I? Would you not do anything to have her as your own? You understand the draw she has, the desire to taste her.”

One of Azriel’s shadows hit Rhys square in the chest, causing him to fall back in the air. “You don’t deserve her.”

Rhys flew back up, annoyed at this argument. “Are you going to be the one to break her heart? Tell her i’m just playing her? You can’t deny her happiness is real, you know I will keep it that way. Do you really want to destroy her perfect little world?”

Azriel paused, the words ringing true. There was no way to prove how Rhys was acting now, especially not when she believed him to handpick the stars in the sky for her. She was in love with his brother, and he couldn’t stop it. “You think you could love her one day?” His question came out hoarse, emotion taking over him.

Rhys looked almost pityingly at his brother, flying back to land on the window in his office. “I could,” he said honestly. “What may have started as a way to get under your skin is turning into something true. She really is quite amazing, Az.” His voice was softer now, a vulnerability shining through. Azriel hovered in front of his brother, a pang in his heart at his words.

“Promise to make her happy. Don’t ever let her find out why you went after her in the first place.” Azriel said, crossing his arms. If his brother was going to act in this way, the least he could do was try to preserve her peace.

“I will. Always. Don’t ruin this for her, Azriel. I need a strong female behind me, but also one who respects and listens to me. She’s proven to be that. She’s perfect for what I need. Letting her become unhappy would destroy what i’ve created.” Rhys said, leaning back on the window frame.

Azriel nodded, still uncertain about this situation. “I will be close by if she needs me.” He said, a threat to his words.

Rhys gave him that horrible wicked smile, a tease in his eyes. “She won’t. She will be too busy screaming my name whenever you’re around.”

Azriel shook his head, forcing himself out of the memory. He was a damn fool for letting Rhysand manipulate him like that all those years ago. He had still believed he wasn’t worth anything back then, that no one would ever love him. It was only rather recently he had begun to think otherwise. He was ashamed of his past self, regret flowing through him. He wished he could go back in time and take her far, far away from this court.

Maybe it wasn’t too late for that.

***

Reader POV

You laid awake that night, staring at the high ceilings of your room. The shadow Azriel kept with you floated about, twirling delicately through the air. You felt a crushing sadness, the truth about everything taking over you. You hated how much you missed Rhys. He was always so in tune with your emotions, knowing the exact perfect thing to say in any situation.

You couldn’t help but wonder if that was all part of his horrible game.

The tears slid down your face, silent and full of pain. You had never imagined a life without him. To you, Rhysand had been your everything. He was your husband, your High Lord, the joy of your life. You two had been discussing children before he was taken Under the Mountain, ready to take that next step together. You couldn’t tell if you were sad or happy that your attempts hadn’t yet succeeded by the time he was gone.

The little shadow came down, sliding across your damp cheeks. You knew it was alerting Azriel, letting him know something was wrong. You didn’t have the energy to wave it away. You were drained, tired. Your anger overshadowed your pain most of the time, but when night came the ache in your chest made itself known. You felt as if your heart was ripping itself in two, screaming at the hurt of it all.

Your bedroom door burst open, Azriel rushing to your side. You didn’t even move to look at him, having no will to do so. He silently slid into the bed with you, wrapping his arms and wings around you. He kissed your hair, a murmur of “I’m so sorry” falling from his lips. His embrace reminded you of how it used to be, before you got tangled up with the High Lord. The two of you used to fall asleep close together nearly every night, finding a comfort in each other you hadn’t had before.

You began to drift off at his soothing presence, tears slowing. The thought you’d been having too often lately circled your mind, leading you into sleep. You wanted to ignore it, the implications it held too frightening for you to deal with right now. Had you overlooked what had been right in front of you this whole time?

***

Ahhhh I love this chapter!!! Please let me know what you think <3. Thank you for all your love and support on this story, it means so much that so many of you wait for each chapter to come out !!

Taglist: @amara-moonlight @tothestarsandwhateverend @onlyangellh @hnyclover @greenapplesaucepi @just-a-social-casualty-1 1 @heyyitsnat21 @mirandasidefics @bubybubsters @mybestfriendmademe @thaynarajejheje @brujitafantomatico @justdreamstars @thisblogisaboutabook @lees-chaotic-brain

[midmourn]

like the movies

♡ nct dream ﹒ gender neutral!reader genre fluff, slice of life, angst, suggestive warnings language, suggestive on jeno’s, brief death joke on haechan’s note if yall have any requests let me know 🫶 here’s the tropes if you can’t tell: mark: best friends to lovers. renjun: enemies to lovers. jeno: fwb. haechan: fake dating. jaemin: second chance. chenle: arranged marriage. jisung: brother’s best friend. i cant remember who inspired this but i do know it was for enhypen lol ( masterlist )

resting on his elbow on your bed, mark’s mouth is agape as he stares at you, blinking furiously. was he dreaming? you, who stood in front of the floor length mirror, smooth down your clothes for non-existent dust and smile to yourself, “okay, how about this outfit?” you wait a few seconds before frowning, “mark? hello— mark?” you wave a hand in front of him and he jolts, “wha—? oh, um, yeah, it’s great. you look really good— … dude.” he winces inwardly at the name, but you don’t bat an eye at it and frown at his seemingly insincere words. “you’re right, it’s bad. i’m going to change.” mark catches your hand with a laugh, “dude, no! seriously, you look really— …” he trails off, looking hesitant to say the next word, even though he’s said it so many times before so easily. what was different now? “— pretty. gorgeous,” he says it without even thinking, realizing it the moment you smile bashfully, ducking your head to your chest to try and hide it but failing miserably. he studies your face for a second, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. and— oh. he wants to kiss you so bad. you, his best friend. oh. oh shit.

renjun doesn’t know when the lines blurred from enemies to frenemies to … lovers? crushes? all he knows is that the burning rage that used to fill him every time your mouth opened was now replaced with warmth spreading over his chest and the urge to kick his feet while giggling. words neither of you would dare to speak around your mothers, intended to hurt, were replaced with teasing, playful words with no hint of malice. your head turns swiftly, knocking him out of his daydream as you raise an eyebrow at him, “take a picture, maybe it’ll last longer.” cheeks flushing a subtle red, his eyes narrow at you, “you might break my camera.” but his pinky creeping towards yours and lips curling up at the ends says how he really thinks. you smile, flipping your hand over and making the first move to intertwine your fingers. his heart stuttered in his chest, “i— you—” you laugh, squeezing his hand once before going back to your textbook. and, yeah, he was certain he’s never felt this before.

“if you squeeze any harder, i think you’ll break the glass,” mark attempts at a joke to diffuse the tension radiating off jeno. jeno’s lips barely twitched up as he glanced down at the glass in his hand before setting it to the side, done drinking for the night. he didn’t feel like it anymore when he saw how closely some guy holds you to his side, hand on your waist. he didn’t like the funny feeling it gave him and he could only imagine how it’d feel when alcohol was added into the equation. “jeno, dude, when are you gonna make a move? you guys have been—” he glances around, checking for eavesdroppers even though the music was far too loud for anyone to hear, “—messing around for months, basically a couple without the label. and you know there’s more people interested in y/n than just him.” the two look back to the opposite side of the room where the guy was whispering something in your ear, a smirk on his face. “you need to tell them you want something more than just fuck buddies. or else you’ll lose them forever.”

“you— WHAT?” haechan winces as your voice grows louder in his ear, casting a quick look around to see if anyone could hear you through the phone. “hyuck! what the fuck?” “don’t act like it wouldn’t be a privilege to date me,” haechan scoffs playfully, hiding his nervousness behind humor; as he always did with his emotions. “i’d rather die.” “okay, well, please! my mom’s already told everyone in my family that i’m bringing someone, including my sisters!” the mention of his sisters have you going quiet, and he hopes you’re thinking about it on the other end. “god, haechan— i—” you sigh in frustration, “how was my name the first name to pop up in that tiny brain of yours?” he ignores the jab, thinking back to that moment. truthfully, he already knew why you were the first name to pop up in his head when his mom mentioned bringing a date to his family reunion. but you didn’t need to know that. not right now, at least. “you weren’t, you were actually my last choice but all my other choices would’ve said no,” he teases, hearing you scoff in disbelief and he grins. “whatever. you’re lucky i love your sisters and hate letting them down.” “and me?” he raises an eyebrow, maybe a hint of hope in his voice. “you wish.” he does.

jaemin swears he’s dreaming when he looks up and sees you. never in a million years did he think you would come back home. not when you tried so hard to leave, anyway. you’re across the aisle, switching your gaze between two spices in your hands when you feel the back of your neck prickling. your head lifts, making eye contact with jaemin immediately. your breath catches, the world freezing around you as the two of you stared at one another. jaemin had only seen glimpses of you through social media the last four years, living your life in some prestigious university with your dream job and dream life in america. he watched your life through pictures like he used to watch you sleep. you break first, raising a hand to wave shyly at him, attempting a weak smile as you didn’t know how he’d react. jaemin abandoned his cart, walking closer to you as you set the spices into your cart. “hi,” you breathe out once he stands in front of you. for years, it seemed like you could never catch your breath, always missing just one thing. and now, it seemed like a breath of fresh air, standing in front of him. his lips turned up into a soft smile, eyes shining as he said softly, “hi.”

the hotel room is silent as chenle unlocks the door with the cardkey, letting you in first and doing a quick check of his surroundings before following in. he listens to the click of the lock, eyes following your movements as you grab a change of clothes and your skincare items from your suitcase. he loosens the tie around his neck, kicking his dress shoes off and turning his back towards you. he doesn’t intend on saying anything, knowing that this situation is definitely not your favorite thing in the world. while he wished it was on his own terms, he liked that it was you. it was only ever you for him. you just didn’t know that. “chenle?” he hums in reply, shrugging off his suit jacket and throwing it on the loveseat. “you don’t … hate me, do you?” his head snaps up, brows furrowing, “what?” the word comes out incredulous and you bite your lip, embarrassment sinking in as your cheeks begin to feel warm. “i … i know this isn’t ideal, but for me, i know it’s not the worst thing in the world.” he blinks at you. you smile slightly at his dumbfounded expression, “i was angry at first, and i was so … betrayed. but, i’m glad it’s you.” you don’t expect a response, heading into the bathroom quietly. he smiles to himself once he fully registers what you just said. i’m glad it’s you. he was, too.

from your spot on the armchair, you watch as jisung rises from his seat on the couch, next to your brother. “i’m getting a drink, anyone want anything?” the rest of your friends and your brother’s friends chime in with their answers, and you wait a second for anyone to get up and follow after him. but no one does. you smile to yourself before standing, “i’m going to help him, since you assholes won’t.” your brother waves you off, too far into the video game to give a better reply. you sneak up behind jisung, sliding your cold hands up under his t-shirt and he jumps, neck twisting to look at you. “ah!” he says a little too loudly, and you shush him. you stay silent before you hear shouts of excitement and disappointment from the living room, turning back to him. “what if—” he starts to say. “as far as they know, i’m helping you with the drinks and snacks,” you poke him in his ribs and he jumps, making you snicker. you stare into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, enjoying the small moment you’ve rarely got since you all came home from college for the summer. at the thought, your face falls and jisung frowns, brushing a stray hair away from your eyes, “what’s wrong?” you shake your head, not wanting to ruin the moment but he insists. “i … i really want to tell him, ji.” you frown, watching his face carefully. “the longer we keep this a secret, the more he’ll be mad. i think we should just rip the bandaid off.” at his hesitation, you sigh and step away from him, making him take a step forward to close the distance again. “jisung, if we’re really serious about this, we have to tell him at some time.” you hesitate, “… are you serious about me?” his eyes widen, “what? yeah, i am. i’ve been serious about you since we were seventeen. i…” he looks shy, “you’re it for me. you’ve always been.” your cheeks heat up, eyes darting away shyly at his words as you allow him to close more distance between you two and press a meaningful kiss to your lips. “we’ll tell him … after everyone leaves, okay? i don’t want to hide anymore. i didn’t like it in the first place.”

[captainfern]

just read rock bottom (both parts) - it was really good !!on a side note, thank you for making it gn, not many writers do that =]

but after reading part 2 i cant help but think that price knew and was kinda putting on a show for soap ... maybe as a reward after a hard mission he invites soap to help him and reader out, and soap realizes some Things about himself, mainly that he likes both of them -- but thats just my thought, im a sucker for threesomes (all good things come in threes after all lol)

anyway, like i said before, rock bottom is really good !! i love how you wrote it, and especially soap's orgasms - im a sucker for guys who are pathetic and cun in their pants

sorry for the long ask, i just wanted to say my thoughts =D

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Rock Bottom pt. 3

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x gn!reader x Captain John Price

[“Rock Bottom” by KISS]

[18+]

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• summary - soap thinks he's dreaming when price invites him to make you feel good lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 3.5k • warnings - gn!reader [they/them, 'hole', 'sweetheart', 'love', 'baby' are used], unprotected piv, threesome? idk price doesn't do a lot but it's enough lol, sub!soap, praise, oral [m!receiving], fingering, m!masturbation, a sprinkle of cum play, strong language

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i've changed it up a bit but i hope you like <3

sidenote i fucking LOVE that pic of soap

Late that night, Soap had a knock on his door. He wasn't expecting anyone, so when he checked his watch and it read 23:55, he was confused.

He opened the door, and was shocked to see you standing there. You smiled at him, and Soap swore he almost melted on the spot.

"Hey, Soap. Sorry, did I wake you?" You cocked your head to the side curiously, taking in Soap's unkempt mohawk and pyjama pants.

Soap shook his head. "No, no, was about too, though. Are you alright?"

You nodded, fidgeting with your fingers. You looked up and down the hall, before you leaned in closer. Soap's breath hitched, and he could smell your shampoo. He took a breath.

"Price wants to talk to you," you whispered. "He's in my room."

Soap's stomach sunk. Why would Price want to speak to him while he's in your room? The only logical explanation was that he knew what kind of sick fuck Soap was, listening in on him and you on more than two occasions.

Soap felt his cheeks warm in embarrassment, his spine tingling with nerves.

"Am... I in trouble?" Soap asked, and you gasped, shaking your head.

"No, of course not! Why would you think that?"

"Just wondering..." He trailed off, before he was following you down the hall a couple of metres to your bedroom door.

You opened the door and ushered him inside. Soap heard you close and lock it before you breezed past him and settled on the edge of your bed, a soft smile on your face.

Price leaned against the far wall by the window, a lit cigar in his hand. He exhaled a plume of smoke and it drifted out the open window, the tip of the cigar glowing red. The room was pretty dark, asides from the couple of soft, golden lamps dotted around the room.

Price cast a look over his shoulder at Soap.

"You know why you're here?" Price questioned, and Soap's stomach flipped with nerves.

"Uh... not really, sir."

"I think you do." Price said simply, closing the window and crossing the room with his cigar hanging from his lips. He paused beside your bed, placing a hand on top of your head, petting your hair.

Soap was burning up, and he dropped his gaze. He had been fucking caught, hadn't he?

"You're not in trouble, Soap. I told you that," you said soothingly, leaning into Price's touch. "But we know you listen. Through the wall. At the safe-house."

Soap was mortified. The tips of his ears were burning so hot he imagined there was steam coiling from them. He had his eyes firmly on the ground, looking at his feet. He didn't have the nerve to look up at you and Price.

"It's okay," you concluded. "You don't have to be embarrassed."

"Easier said than done..." Soap grumbled, face and body growing hot. Despite his torso being bare, he felt like he was being suffocated by his skin.

"You like the way they sound, don't you, sergeant?" Price voiced, and that made Soap finally tear his eyes away from the ground. "You have quite the crush, don't you?"

"...yes sir." Soap whispered. There was no point in denying it now. He was far too deep in whatever was going on.

Price hummed, looking down at you as he continued to massage your scalp, smoking his cigar. The smell permeated the room, lingering thick and woody. A light grey haze shimmered in the lamplight, hovering just above Price's head. Soap'd be concerned for his own lungs if he wasn't overcome with a million different emotions right now.

"You can fuck them, Soap." Price said suddenly, dragging his hand to the side of your face, cupping your jaw.

Soap's mouth dropped open. He couldn't help it. He wasn't fucking expecting that.

"I... I mean— not that I don't— it's... you know, it's just— are you sure? I don't—" Soap stuttered.

"It's okay, Soap," you said calmly as Price traced your lips with his thumb. "I want to. If, of course, you want to as well? You don't have to if you feel uncomfortable."

Price slipped his thumb passed your lips, and you snagged it between your teeth before you sucked it lightly. Soap's mouth continued to gape, not quite sure what to do or say.

"So?" Price urged, pushing his thumb deeper into your mouth, cigar hanging loosely from his lips. "You want to fuck them, or no?"

"But... aren't you two... together?"

"I don't mind sharing."

Soap's cock twitched at that. You were still sucking on Price's thumb, but your eyes were on Soap. You battered your lashes at him, and he felt his cock jump again, now semi-hard beneath the thin cotton of his pyjamas.

"Well?" Price prompted. "Last chance. You in?"

Soap was nodding before he got the words out of his mouth. "Y-yeah. Yes, sir. Please, sir."

Price beckoned Soap forward, popping his thumb out of your mouth. With one last pat to your cheek, Price settled at the head of your bed, smoking his cigar against your headboard. Meanwhile, you continued to sit cross-legged near the edge of your bed, smiling up at Soap as he approached.

When Soap's abdomen was parallel with your face, you reached forward and took hold of his pyjama drawstrings. You slowly pulled the bow apart, before you tucked your fingers beneath the waistband. You paused, looking back over your shoulder at Price. Soap realised you were looking for some kind of instruction. That made his cock harden further.

"You want to suck his cock, sweetheart?" Price asked.

You nodded, and Soap released a shaky breath.

"Right. Let him up on the bed."

Soap sat on the edge of the bed and you crawled onto the floor. You skimmed your fingers along his waistband teasingly, enjoying the goosebumps that appeared along the pale flesh. You could see the imprint of his hard cock beneath his pyjamas, and saliva flooded your mouth. You looked up at him, and the way he was looking at you made your stomach draw tight in pleasure.

You pulled his pyjamas down, and he helped by lifting his hips. You slipped it down his thighs just enough for his hard cock to spring out. It was achingly hard already, the tip flushed red and adorned with a single bead of pre-cum that threatened to fall as his cock bobbed against his stomach.

Soap hissed, tossing his head back when you took hold of him. You grasped him tight at the base, leaning forward to drool a string of saliva down his length. He groaned, breathy and desperate, as the saliva dripped down his shaft and collected above your closed fist. You smeared it up and down, pumping him, before you placed a couple of tiny licks to the tip.

His hips stuttered, and a hand shot down to hold your head. His hands weren't as big as Price's, but they sat heavier. Heavier in a way that made your stomach flip as he attempted to guide your mouth further onto his cock. You didn't let him— still placing small licks across the weeping slit, and along the underside of his head. He groaned your name, pressing your head closer, your mouth pushing against the tip of his cock, pre smearing across your lips.

Your other hand reached down to cup his balls, and his hips jolted again. He whined, eyelids drooping as he watched you fist his cock a couple of times. Then, you licked a fat stripe from base to tip, and he moaned loudly, tugging at the roots of your hair. He tasted heady, tainted with salt, as you swirled your tongue around his cockhead once more, before you finally gave in to his desperate pushing and opened your mouth wide.

You sunk your mouth around him, and he released another desperate moan, followed by a whimper when you hollowed your cheeks. He wasn't as lengthy as Price, but he was certainly wider. His cock stretched your mouth taut as you took more of him, and when your lips came into contact with your fist at the base, you gagged.

"Fuck, fuck," Soap groaned, hips twitching to thrust deeper. "S-so good."

Saliva leaked from your mouth as you pulled back, and then took more of him, bobbing your head up and down. His hand in your hair was a stable pressure, encouraging you to take more and more of him. You removed your hand at the base, holding his thigh for stability as his tip dragged across the back of your tongue, edging your throat. You gagged again, and Soap moaned in response.

Behind Soap, Price palmed himself through his trousers. He grunted softly, pressing his hand to the imprint of his hard cock. He puffed on his cigar, intent on not touching himself fully until Soap was fucking you into your bed.

"Mmmfuck, m'gonna come," Soap whimpered, pressing your head closer until your nose pressed to the hair at his pelvis. "M'gonna... fuck..."

"Pull back, sweetheart." Price ordered calmly, and you listened. You pulled your mouth off of Soap's cock with a wet pop, admiring how it glistened with your saliva. Soap groaned, frustrated, trying to push your head back towards his cock.

Price nudged Soap's lower back with his foot. "Don't start, Soap."

Soap stopped with a whimper, looking down at you. He pet your head, massaging your scalp. You kissed his inner thighs, before retracting your hands and getting to your feet.

Your chest was now level with Soap's face. Soap couldn't help but stare when you ripped your shirt off, nipples hardening in the cool air. Soap whined, and you let him lean forward and take one of your nipples into his mouth. You hummed in pleasure, hugging his head as he sucked and skimmed his teeth along your nipple. He switched to the other one as Price tutted behind him.

"Look how desperate he is for you, love," Price grunted, dipping a hand into his own pyjama pants and cupping himself, not fully stroking yet. "Make him beg to fuck you."

You cried out, the sound morphing to a moan as Soap bit at the skin around your nipples, sucking bruised over the indents of his teeth. He pulled away finally, his lips puffy and glossy. You stroked his short hair before taking one hand to the longer strands of his mohawk, tugging it to expose the bare expanse of his throat.

His Adam's apple bobbed as you clambered into his lap and attached your mouth to it, sucking harshly. Soap groaned, the vibrations travelling through your mouth as you peppered bruises up the column of his neck.

"You heard the captain," you teased, sucking a bruise right beneath Soap's ear before you bit down on his earlobe. "Beg for it."

Soap offered absolutely no resistance. He angled his head to look up into your eyes as you pulled away. His eyes were glassy and full of desperation, and it forced an involuntary moan from your throat.

"Please, please, let me fuck you," he begged, hands at your waist, trying to grind you against his lap. "Please, baby, please, I need it, I need it so bad—"

"You need it?" Price chuckled, and Soap's face burned up. "Hear that, sweetheart? He needs it."

"Aww, such a needy boy." You chuckled, placing a kiss to Soap's nose before you slipped off his lap.

You clambered across the bed until you were sat between Price's legs. You lay down, your head on his lap as you lifted your hips and pulled your shorts and underwear down, exposing yourself to Soap. Soap moaned, throwing his own pants away before he was swivelling his body, now sitting between your ankles. He grabbed your shorts and underwear and pulled them the rest of the way down, tossing them across the room.

"Please, please..." Soap whimpered, taking hold of your ankles and rubbing the skin. "Please can I... Please can I fuck you?"

You hummed, running your hands up and down Price's legs, feeling the material of his pyjamas. Price grunted, finally taking his cock out behind your head, gripping it in his hand. He fisted it, stroking a few times before stopping.

"Your choice, love." Price uttered, voice gravelly.

You smiled, biting your lip. "Have you been a good boy, Soap? Do you deserve it?"

Soap nodded desperately, crawling closer until his hands were smoothing against your thighs. "Yes, fuck, I've been a good boy. I'm—" he cut himself off with a whimper. "I'm your good boy. Please."

As Soap whimpered and begged, Price placed his cigar to the side and leaned down, cupping your jaw to angle your mouth to his. He kissed you deeply, tongue probing your mouth. Smoke swirled between the two of you, and you whined into the kiss. It was sloppy and lewd, the sounds downright pornographic. It tasted bitter and sweet all at once and when Price pulled back, he ran his tongue along your bottom lip for good measure.

Soap whimpered, moaning at the sight. He took his cock in his hand, fisting it roughly as you and Price pressed your tongues together. Price pulled back an inch, a thick string of saliva connecting the tips of your tongues. Soap moaned again, pre rolling from his aching tip and down his shaft. He was painfully hard, cock twitching with each movement of his fist.

The string of saliva snapped and Price pulled back completely, picking up his cigar and placing it between his lips, taking a deep inhale. Meanwhile, you looked back at Soap, all desperate and whiney. Butterflies fluttered around your stomach, and your smile grew wider after you licked your lips.

"You're so pretty, Johnny," you whimpered, fingers trailing down your body. "Want you to fill me."

Soap moaned, mouth dropping open. He continued to jerk himself off as you quickly sucked your fingers into your mouth, before you were placing them at your hole. You pushed them in, arching your back, and Soap moaned again.

"Don't they sound so pretty?" Price mumbled, stroking his cock too.

Soap was nodding deliriously, eyes trained on where your fingers fucked your hole. He whimpered, begging silently with his eyes, pupils blown wide.

Price chuckled. "Come on, sweetheart. Give Soap what he wants."

You nodded, removing your fingers and spreading your legs wider, draping them over Price's. Soap wasted no time drawing closer until his cock rested against the plush flesh of your inner thigh. He was breathing deeply, whimpering softly as his cock ached, throbbing with need.

"Fuck me, Johnny." You said, and that was all Soap needed.

Cock wet with your saliva and his pre-cum, he notched the head at your entrance and pushed inside. Slowly, he stretched you open, and you moaned loudly, turning your head into Price's thigh. Price stroked your hair, other hand fucking his cock into his fist. The sounds were loud behind you, making you moan again.

Soap screwed his eyes shut, chewing on the inside of his cheek in focus. He didn't want to bust a fucking nut halfway inside you. Fucking hell.

He pushed in further and further before he bottomed out with a guttural moan of your name. He grabbed your legs and put them around his hips, notching himself deeper with the new angle.

He whimpered. "Fuck, feel's so good, baby. So tight."

You moaned, feeling him deep inside you. Not as deep as Price would normally reach, but deep enough that his tip skimmed somewhere inside you that had your back arching He was thick, stretching your hole open around his girth, making you whine.

"Move, Johnny." You whispered, pleading.

You felt so full.

He obliged, beginning to rut into you like a man starved. He whimpered and whined, one hand kneading your thigh around his waist, the other gripping your hip and pulling you back onto him. His cock slammed into you, fucking your hole in a way that even made Price let out a groan.

"That feel good, love?" He asked, a puff of cigar smoke blowing across your bare body.

"Mhm." You nodded, unable to form a sentence as Soap fucked you.

Price fucked his fist, grunting around the shape of his cigar. The air was hazy around your head— or maybe it was the dizzy pleasure overtaking your brain and the thin ring of tears in your eyes. The noises that both Price and Soap were making made your stomach twist, butterflies coursing through you.

Price grunted, deep and earthy, tasting of smoke. Slick sounds followed as he continued to stroke his cock, his other hand coming to rest on the side of your face, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. A small ember from the tip of his cigar floated down and landed on your cheek. It burned slightly, but Price smoothed it away with his thumb. It made you moan.

Soap meanwhile was the complete opposite. No deep grunts or curses or anything like that. He had been reduced to a whimpering, whining mess. Each time his cock pressed deeper into you, he whimpered softly, often followed by a higher-pitched whine before he was moaning your name like a mantra. His breathing was rapid and uneven as he rutted his cock into your hole.

"Tell them how good you feel, Soap," Price grunted above you, and your eyes rolled as Soap hit a spot inside you that had your hole pulsing around him. Soap moaned breathlessly, now peppering wet kisses along your neck and chest. Price huffed, nudging Soap's leg with his foot. "Tell them, sergeant."

Soap whimpered. "Feels so good, baby, fuck. Such a t-tight hole, all for me."

"Careful..." Price grumbled, but Soap didn't seem to notice. Or maybe he just didn't care.

He had his sole focus on pumping his cock into you. Your body trembled beneath him, legs quivering against his hips. You were moaning softly, his name. Johnny, Johnny. He had been wanting this, craving this, for so fucking long. He could feel his orgasm building, but he wanted you to come first.

"You wanna come?" Soap whispered after sucking a dark splotch onto the base of your throat.

You nodded, chewing your lip as your body began to heat up. Price continued to pet your face, fist speeding up, cigar still hanging loosely from his lips.

"Go on then, baby. Come for me, please." Soap whispered, and you listened— your body spasming, back arching as you came.

Soap moaned loudly at the feeling of your hole squeezing his cock as your orgasm rolled over you. Price moaned too, thrusting up into his hand a couple more times before he came. Hot spurts fell past his fist, splattering your hair and cheek. You whimpered out and, breathing hard, he placed his cigar on the bedside table's ashtray, and smeared his cum across your cheek.

"S’all right, love, there you go." He muttered, admiring the way his seed painted the edges of your hair and the soft dips of your cheek and cheekbone.

Soap watched the exchange and whined deeply, the sound stretched out as his orgasm neared. He fucked into your tight hole with his eyes halfway open, pleasure making it difficult for him to open them fully. But he wanted to see you. See how pretty you looked when he came inside you.

"Fuck," he cursed. "M'gonna come— fuck— gonna come inside you, baby, just— ah, ngh— mmmfuck, baby, 'm gonna—"

"Not inside, MacTavish." Price growled, and this time Soap heard him, he just didn't give a fuck.

Soap shook his head. "M'gonna— please—"

You whimpered. "No, no... please, inside."

Price grit his teeth. "Fucks sake, don't—"

Soap came with a string of whimpers on his lips, your name falling across his tongue in a moan. He pumped you full, stretching your hole around his fat cock and filling you hot. You moaned, hands now running up and down Soap's back.

Soap's body dropped onto yours, cock still inside you, and he nuzzled his face into your neck as his breathing calmed. He gently kissed the skin, and you stroked his back, legs flopping off of his hips and laying either side of him, pressed against Price's.

"Good boy, Soap." You whispered, bringing a hand up to massage the back of his head.

He whined into your neck, and you smiled. Then, you looked up at Price, who was still stroking the side of your face, looking down at you with those pretty dark eyes.

"You 'right, love?" He asked.

You nodded, smiling, barely able to keep your eyes open. "Mhm..."

He patted your cheek gently, before he took a fistful of Soap's mohawk and lifted him from your neck. Both you and Soap gasped, and Price made the Scot look up at him.

"You're on cleaning duties for the next month, Soap," Price said simply. "Listen to me next time."

Soap scoffed, and Price let go of his hair. He immediately buried his face back into the curve of your shoulder, sucking gently on the bare skin.

After a moment, he mumbled: "So, there's going to be a next time?"

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

[sunlightmurdock]

My Future in You | 2.5 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

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synopsis: Bradley’s twenty-two years old and not where he’s supposed to be. He’s supposed to be out of the academy by now. Instead, he’s retaking his senior year of college and praying to god that he gets into flight school. Mav’s gone, his mom’s gone. He’s mad at the world. Then, a hook up at a Halloween party changes his future even more than he could have imagined.

warnings: accidental pregnancy, references to abortion in a few chapters, angst, will be fluff eventually, will be smut so 18+, enemies to lovers kinda thing, extreme inaccuracies on hospitals and the entire birthing process but this is fiction so we move. WC: 4.7k

…

Bradley spins the padlock, humming as he does, twisting the lock and pulling open his locker. That run was awful, his instructor has been breathing down his back and Bradley had fucked up two consecutive manoeuvres. He’s sweaty, and tired.

It’s nice out, though, and you’ve been so couped up recently that it’s driving you crazy. If he’s done early enough he could take you out. It’s the middle of summer, there are tons of properties not far that host drive-ins.

You’d probably like that.

He reaches for his bag first. Towel, clothes, soap — the necessities. Under that, is his phone, which he picks up absentmindedly, without checking. Immediately, it starts to buzz in his hand. He turns it over as he walks towards the showers, seeing an unknown number flash up on the screen.

Instinct tells him to answer. He taps the button and cautiously brings the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“There you are, you son of a bitch!”

Bradley blinks, frowning slightly. His stomach drops.

“Jake?”

“No, no! Don’t you dare fucking speak, where the hell are you?” Jake rants on the other end of the line. Bradley’s brows furrow as he plugs a finger into his ear to try to hear. He knows for a fact that Jake gets one call a week, and he hasn’t ever wasted that call on speaking to Bradley.

“What? — I’m at work, what’s going on?” About fifteen other pilots just piled into this room behind him, it’s hard to hear, even with the way your brother is screaming.

“My baby sister’s about to have your kid in your dumbass uncle’s car is what’s going on! — I’m so serious about this, Bradley, if you fucking let her down today, I will kill you — I promise you that I will actually—“

“Uncle? Jake, slow down, I’m grabbing my keys. Where the fuck is she?” Bradley turns on his heel and shoves his way back through the steam-filled locker room, pressing the phone closer to try to hear. It has been hours since he was able to check his phone and the thought makes his throat tight. He can’t think of how many times you would have tried to reach him, how scared you must be.

It’s the entire reason you’re here, away from everything you have ever known; so that he could be there for you. And he isn’t. He might have missed it. He could have let you down all over again.

“She’s on her way to Sacred Heart Hospital! Do you know how many fucking times she tried to call you?” Before Jake even gets to finish his second sentence, Bradley has started running, hoping that he doesn’t turn a corner and knock hot coffee into someone important.

Jake continues to rant on the other end of the line but Bradley’s far from even listening. All he can think of now is when he woke up the night after halloween and saw you laying in his bed, wrapped in his jersey. You had looked so comfortable that he hadn’t wanted to wake you.

On his run that morning, he had thought about it. If he had woken you. Asked you for your number, asked you on a date. He had thought about the way you had joked the night before and the instant connection. But then he came home and realized who you were. It was all downhill from there with the way he had treated you.

He should have just woken you that morning, asked you if you would go to dinner with him. There are so many things he would do differently now. He swallows as he climbs into the driver’s side of his truck and wraps a hand around the wheel just to notice how much he’s trembling now.

“Are you fucking listening to me?”

Bradley swallows, fumbling to get the key into the ignition and balance his phone between his ear and his cheek. “Look, Jake… I’ve gotta go. I’ll call you when I can.”

Jake starts to protest, but Bradley hangs up anyway. His heartbeat thuds in his ears as he backs out of the parking spot. August third. It hasn’t ever been important before, it will be every day for the rest of his life. It’s his son’s birthday.

Maverick winces at your bedside. He has been told by nurses six times now to just sit, that it could be a while before a doctor can see you. But, he won’t. He has been standing to the right side of your bed for over an hour now. He has been acting on autopilot, he barely even knows how he got you here. It’s the one thing that has kept him alive in his career so far, probably. Instinct.

He watches as you double forwards, gritting your teeth, whimpering in pain.

Bradley doesn’t have anybody, Maverick never had anybody. You’ve got two parents out there somewhere who are willing to let you go through this alone. He swallows softly at the thought and lifts his hand, brushing it tenderly over your head as he leans closer.

“It’s alright, you’re going to be just fine.” He says quietly. Your hand darts out and your fingers link between his, squeezing hard at his shaking hand. As much as he’s certain that your grip is going to bruise, he just exhales slowly and smooths his thumb over the back of your hand.

He didn’t even know your name this morning.

“Alright, Miss Seresin,” The snap of a surgical glove alerts the both of you, looking up quickly to see the smiling woman in the colourful scrubs entering the room. “My name is Lucy, I’m just here to do a quick check on how things are progressing. How does that sound?”

Still gritting your teeth, you’re too busy holding your breath and waiting for the pain to subside to answer her. Maverick makes a pained sound at your side, exhaling deeply as you finally let go of his hand.

“Mhm.” You manage out.

Lucy offers you a sympathetic smile as she pulls up a stool at the end of the bed. Maverick turns his attention towards the ceiling as she settles between your legs. You make a soft sound, closing your eyes. You wish that your mom was here holding your hand, rather than Bradley’s last standing family member.

“Okay, you’re still at six centimeters,” Lucy hums. You drop your head back against the pillow and groan in frustration. You’ve been at six centimeters for an hour and a half. Maverick squeezes your hand softly as Lucy grabs your chart from the end of the bed. “How would you rate your pain at the moment?”

“I don’t know. Does it get worse than this?” Your voice trembles as you speak. After sobbing hysterically into both Bradley’s voicemail and to Jake’s commander, begging him to put Jake on the phone, you’ve been doing your best not to cry again. It seems to make Maverick uncomfortable.

“Can you give her anything? — An epidural, or whatever?” Maverick presses.

Lucy presses her lips into a line as she pushes herself to her feet and sets the chart back into its place. She gives a small shake of her head. If she knew anything about Pete Mitchell, she would know that ‘no’ isn’t a word he often agrees with.

“Why not?” He urges, brows knitting together as he drops your hand and straightens up. You glance between him and her.

She sighs softly. “With pregnancies that have complications, we tend to advise against epidural. It could put more strain on his heart, we would have to monitor very closely.”

“So monitor it closely. If you’re so worried, why has she been sitting here for an hour on her own?” Maverick challenges her. Lucy looks towards you and wrings her hands together.

“Pete, stop.” You breathe out.

“I can get the doctor to discuss it with you. It’s still an option at this point, but—“

“I don’t want it.” Your answer is instant. It’s the most confident you’ve sounded all day. Maverick’s head whips around and for the first time, you catch sight of Bradley in his eyes. It’s not a genetic thing, just more of a temperament. All of those hours spent together, Bradley’s quizzical, developing mind. He’s been copying those mannerisms subconsciously since he was in the first grade.

“But—“

“I don’t want it. We’ll be just fine without it.” You decide calmly, smoothing your palms over your swollen stomach for one of the last times. Pete opens his mouth at your side, he almost argues with you, but he stops himself. This isn’t his kid, or even his family — Bradley has made that clear. So, pressing his lips together, he just nods.

Bradley can feel all of the eyes on him. Maybe it’s because he’s in uniform, maybe it’s because he is walking so fast that when he collided with a doctor two minutes ago, he knocked the poor guy straight on his ass and just kept walking. His eyes widen as he spots the reception desk finally.

“Seresin. My, uh — my girlfriend is having a baby. Her last name is Seresin, she should be here.” Bradley breathes out. The nurse looks up at him and smiles. She sees a lot of stressed out, first time dads. This isn’t unusual.

“Alright. What’s your name, honey?” She smiles.

“Bradley Bradshaw.”

“I’ll tell her you’re here, I’ll come get you as soon as she says it’s okay. Why don’t you get some water, just take a breath?” She reaches out and pats the hand that he has resting on top of the counter. Bradley swallows, managing to give her a stiff nod.

She’s gone for less than two minutes, but Bradley’s pounding heart just makes it feel like it’s an eternity. She can see it on his face when she walks back towards him that he’s terrified. So, she just offers him a smile and nods for him to follow her.

At first, Bradley doesn’t even notice that there’s anyone else in the room. All he sees is you, sitting up in the bed, your hair pulled back and tears in your eyes.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He rushes towards you. You whimper as he wraps you in his arms, grabbing onto him tightly. He leans down and kisses the top of your head. “Jake got through to me, I got here as soon as I could.”

“I was scared you wouldn’t make it in time.” You whisper into his chest. Bradley turns his head and kisses your temple, nodding. He opens his mouth to agree, and then takes notice of who is standing at the other side of your bed. His uncle. He hadn’t taken much notice of what Jake had said on the phone.

He stands up straight and stares, silent for a second. Maverick has learned by now to just keep his mouth shut.

“I thought I told you to stay the fuck away from my family.”

“Bradley, don’t. He got me here, he stayed with me.” You frown up at him. Bradley just stares over you, looking at the man who has let him down again and again for as long as they have known each other.

Maverick takes a slow step back, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I’ll go. I’m sorry. I’ll leave.”

“No, Mav—“

“I don’t want him here. He doesn’t need to be anywhere near—“

“I want him here.” You answer back, scowling up at your boyfriend. Of all the stupid arguments that the two of you have had, Bradley knows better than to pick a fight with someone who is in active labour.

Even so, Maverick has spent more than two decades going against Bradley’s wishes. Making him eat his vegetables, refusing to let him drop out of little league, almost ruining his career. He needs to give his nephew some leeway here, if this is going to work.

“I could go to your place. Get you some things, give you two a minute. I’ll come back, sit in the waiting room. If you want me, I’ll be right outside.”

“No.” Bradley deadpans. You shoot him a look, then turn to offer Pete a small smile.

“Can I text you a list? I have it all written on my phone.”

Maverick nods. He still has your keys from earlier, and honestly, he’s grateful to be out from Bradley’s glare once he leaves the room. You’re grateful that you aren’t going to have the two of them fighting while you’re trying to do this.

Bradley’s scowl fades once he’s certain that Maverick is far enough away. He turns around and perches on the side of your bed, draping his arm around your shoulders and kissing the top of your head.

“How are you feeling? — Did they give you anything for the pain, yet?” He asks softly, smoothing his free hand tenderly over your stomach. You scrunch your nose slightly and turn to frown at him.

“No — Bradley, you smell disgusting.”

He stares back at you, blinking slowly. “Honey, I ran a red light to get here. Showering wasn’t my top priority.”

“No, I know, but — could you maybe put your arm down?”

His mouth twitches, giving an amused shake of his head as he unwraps his arm from around you. He entwines his fingers with yours instead, giving your hand a soft squeeze. “What do you mean they haven’t given you anything? — Do you want me to talk to someone?”

“No, no. I can’t have an epidural, it would put him at risk. I’m going to do it without.” You’re quiet as you explain it, just waiting for Bradley to freak out like Maverick had wanted to. He’s quiet for a minute. You brace yourself.

He strokes his thumb softly along the fabric of the hospital gown. It takes him a minute to finally lift his head and look you in the eye. He exhales slowly.

“You’re sure?”

“You couldn’t change my mind if you tr— ah.” You wince, sitting bolt upright and holding your breath. Bradley barely even notices you squeezing his hand. He feels sick, watching the way your entire body goes rigid with the pain. He has read that this can take like eight hours the first time, and he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to sit through eight hours of watching you suffer like this.

That being said, there’s nothing he can do but be here. An hour later, he’s already on the verge of tearing his hair out as silent tears roll down your cheeks while you sip on water. He has suggested the epidural twice more since your first conversation, you’ve refused it twice.

The contractions are more regular now. You’re trying to keep him calm, knowing that he’s freaking out even more than you are, but they’re close enough together now that you haven’t spoken in a while. You knew this was going to hurt, but the last ten minutes have been agony.

“Okay, Miss Seresin, just here for another quick check.” Lucy strolls back into the room smiling again, shooting a quick look to the new man standing at your bedside. Bradley glances between you and her, fighting to ask her where the hell she has been. She sits between your legs once more. You sigh in discomfort. The thing about not having an epidural — you can feel everything. “Oh.”

Bradley looks at her. “Oh?”

“She, uh — We’re just about there. That was fast, you’re sure this is your first?” Her smile has faded for the first time. You stare at her face. She looks scared. You feel like you’re going to throw up.

“She’d notice if it wasn’t, wouldn’t she?” Bradley bites. You swing your arm out and smack him in the stomach. Lucy stands up quickly.

“I’m going to grab the doctor.”

You’re quiet as she hurries off, turning your head and looking up at Bradley. He watches your lip tremble and reaches out instinctively, stroking gently at your cheek. He wipes a salty tear from your skin.

“She looked worried.” You whisper to him.

He leans down, pressing a slow, soft kiss to your mouth as he squeezes your hand. “You’ve got this. You’re going to be just fine. This whole time, you’ve been so strong. Just a little longer.”

Squeezing his hand, you lean closer and rest your face against his arm.

“I’m so fucking scared.”

“Nothing’s going to happen, to either one of you.” Bradley kisses the top of your head, his eyes sting. He closes them and inhales the familiar scent of your hair. There’s no way in hell he’s going to cry in front of you. “Just a little longer and he’s going to be here, this is all going to be worth it.”

He doesn’t know that for sure, there’s no way that he can, but it’s enough for you to believe it. Besides, there isn’t a lot of time to be caught up in the fear. Once pushing starts, there’s only one thing on your mind and that’s getting this over and done with.

Bradley isn’t sure what he was expecting labour to be like, but he wasn’t expecting so many people. There are six people in this room and Bradley isn’t sure exactly what any of them are here for specifically. His main focus is you.

Each time you push, your body goes tense, you grit your teeth and you hold your breath. He’s sure that you’re going to pass out any minute now.

“Okay, another big one. You’re doing great.” The doctor instructs. Bradley shoots him a furious look. A nurse at your side is quick to rub your shoulder and tell you to breathe. He leans in close and kisses the top of your head. Once again, you grit your teeth and push hard. Bradley feels like he can’t breathe himself.

This time, you don’t hold your breath. Instead, it’s all forced out of your lungs at once as you scream out, digging your nails into Bradley’s palm, hot tears spilling onto your cheeks. The second that you’re done screaming, there’s no getting your breath back. You inhale too fast and sob back out an exhale. Again and again as the nurse at your side tells you to slow down.

“Alright, and again.” The doctor sighs.

Your eyes flicker to him, and Bradley snaps. He can’t stand the pain in your expression, and he can’t stand that doctor’s fucking tone. “Again? — She needs a break. She can’t go again.”

The abundantly calm older lady between your legs simply lifts her head and looks up at him through her glasses. She has been delivering babies longer than either one of you has been alive. “Son, there’s no time for a break right now. This baby’s coming. Rather than yelling at me, focus on her.”

Bradley’s jaw ticks as he settles in closer and brings your knuckles up to rest against his lips. He winces, blinking back tears as you have to go through another tough push. Your head falls back against the pillows in a moment of brief respite.

He studies your face for a second. Up until this exact moment in time, as he’s wiping tears from your cheeks with his free hand, Bradley had seen the two of you maybe having another kid. Right now, he’s certain that he’ll never put you through any of this again.

“You must hate me right now.” He whispers, giving a soft shake of his head. Honestly, he doesn’t really expect you to answer. He barely expects you to hear him. He definitely doesn’t expect you to laugh.

Your face is hot, and blotchy with tears. Your entire body is exhausted and trembling, and you’re laughing at him. Sniffling, you blink through the tears, “I’ve hated you more than I do right now, it’s okay.”

He can’t help but smile, brushing a few strands of hair back off of your face, then leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I’ve been thinking a lot, about the future, and about our family—“

“Don’t you dare fucking propose to me right now, Bradley. Don’t.” You growl. The nurse at your side just can’t hold it in. Bradley frowns at her as she giggles and rubs soothingly at your back. He kisses your knuckles and closes his mouth.

You’re right. He’ll finish that speech another time.

“Here’s his head.”

Bradley looks swiftly away and stares at the ceiling. The death-grip that you’ve got on his hand is the least of his worries. The thought alone is enough to make him dizzy. Jake’s going to kill him if he passes out. He inhales slowly through his nose and leans in again, resting his forehead against your temple as you cry out.

“There we go, that’s perfect. Keep going, he’s almost here.” The doctor’s tone never lifts above a breezy cadence. She’s beyond cool, finally glancing up to offer you a small smile.

He sticks to your side, kissing your temple. Your chest heaves. There’s not long to go, you’re almost done. But, the end is the worst. It really does feel like you’re going to black out. You don’t know how people have been doing this for so long, or why some of them choose to have so many kids after this pain.

You half expect to give up, to break down crying and begging for your mother before it’s all done. You’re right on the verge, whimpering into the sleeve of Bradley’s flight suit. And then, it’s over. The doctor exhales deeply and hums.

He takes his first big inhale and promptly wails into the air.

The doctor has him in her hands when she looks up and catches sight of the two of you before her. You’re clinging onto his hand and he’s pressing as close to you as he can without crawling into the bed. There’s a fearful, awestruck look plastered across both of your faces as you stare in the direction of the scream.

She smiles at the two of you. You’re going to be just fine.

“Would you like to cut the cord?” The doctor asks Bradley calmly. He regrets yelling at her now, but she doesn’t seem to be holding a grudge.

Bradley blinks, then shakes his head. “No, I don’t want to hurt him.

She chuckles, then shakes her head. “You won’t.”

He does as instructed, rolling his sleeves up, and quickly cleaning his hands and arms. He’s the first one that gets a look. As he sets the scissors back down, he turns his head towards you with a look on his face that you haven’t seen before.

Blinking back tears, Bradley smiles softly at you. And then he’s all yours. They set the baby down on your chest, starting to clean and dry him off right away. Bradley moves to your side once again, brushing your hair back off of your forehead.

Still wailing, you whimper quietly as you stare down at the infant. Ten fingers, ten toes, a good set of lungs on him. Bradley’s lips press softly to your forehead as you reach out, hands trembling, and trail your fingers featherlight along the length of his spine.

His plush, pink lips tremble as the wailing starts to subside. Bradley strokes tenderly at the nape of your neck with his thumb, rendered silent as he watches you with him.

“Hi,” You breathe out, hugging the towel closer to him. You inhale deeply, then exhale through your nose. A nurse smiles as she reaches around you to place the soft knit hat on top of his head. He’s warm enough now, you want to keep it that way. “Hi, baby boy.”

Bradley swallows the lump in his throat. Four and a half hours of labour without any tears. Twelve seconds of watching you with your baby and hot tears are stinging his eyes.

You get five minutes with him before they have to check his vitals, his weight, his height. As much as your arms feel empty without him there, you want those results. You want him to be fine. You want to see him in that bassinet beside your bed tomorrow night.

Blinking, you look up at Bradley. He scoffs as your mouth falls open.

“Allergies.” He mumbles, crouching down to kiss your mouth as tears dampen his cheeks. You reach up and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, turning your face into his neck. You feel him relax into your touch. He kisses your shoulder, sniffling.

Both of you let it be quiet for a moment. You won’t be getting a lot of that once you’re at home, not with that boy’s vocal chords.

“Thank you,” Bradley mumbles into the crook of your neck. He pulls back from the hug just slightly, brushing the backs of his fingers along your cheek. He sighs, then nods seriously. “Thank you.”

“Just don’t ask me to do it again.” You joke, watching his tearful face shift into a grin. He sits forwards and kisses you. You close your eyes as he trails his fingertips along your arms.

“I’m serious,” He tells you softly, watching you blink tiredly. “I’d have nothing if it wasn’t for you. I was bitter and mean, and you were way too nice to me. It’s because of you that we have him. I’m so, so grateful.”

Your lips quirk up into a soft smile. If Jake could hear some of this, he would probably start to like Bradley again.

Exhaustion starts to set in, but there’s no time to sleep when there are doctors and nurses fussing over you, and then he’s being bundled back into you again.

Your eyelids are heavy as you turn your head and look over at Bradley, sitting in the chair beside your bed. His flight suit is tied around his waist and his t-shirt is draped over the back of the chair. Your baby looks tiny nestled into his arms.

You fight to keep awake as your always calm doctor walks into the room once again and sits down between the two of you.

“Seventeen inches, four pounds and ten ounces. Congratulations.” She tells the two of you with a small smile. Bradley doesn’t look up at her, smoothing his fingertips through the soft, dark hair on your son’s head. She looks at you, then at Bradley. “He’s strong. He’s doing well. We’re going to move you to the neonatal intensive care unit so that we can keep an eye on his feedings. We need to get that weight up, keep him warm. But, I’m not concerned.”

You swallow softly. “The tests and everything… he looked okay?”

She stands up and takes two small steps towards you. She rests her hand softly on your forearm, giving you a sincere nod. “Aside from his weight, he’s perfect. Does he have a name?”

Bradley finally lifts his head and looks, offering you a small smile. You wipe the tears from your cheeks and nod at her. “His name’s Thomas.”

It breaks your heart when it’s time for him to go. The thought of him being without you on that ward. Bradley holds you while you cry, and truthfully, he feels like crying too. It’s been a long day. You’re all emotional.

He stays with you until you fall asleep. Then, half-awake himself, he heads off to see your son. It’s the first night that he gets to say goodnight to the both of you.

Bradley stops as he closes the door to your room behind him. He stares at the man asleep in the waiting area, drooling on his hand as it props his chin up. He knew Mav had gotten here a while ago, someone had brought the bag in. Bradley just figured he would have gone home by now. Exhaling slowly, he clenches and unclenches his fists at his sides.

“Mav?”

The older pilot startles awake, blue eyes wide and blinking quickly as he tries to figure out where he is. It takes him a moment to figure out who is in front of him. Tall, flight-suit, mustache. Maverick feels the lump in his throat grow as he realises that it isn’t his best friend.

He looks Bradley up and down. He looks older now than he did a few hours ago, not just because he’s tired. Because Maverick isn’t looking at a little boy anymore.

“There’s someone you probably want to meet, huh?”

…

tags: @chaoticweirdogeek @alanadetigy @itsmytimetoodream @oldnatgwenaccount @khaylin27 @bioodforbiood @luckyladycreator2 @mizzzpink @cherrycola27 @unordinare @shanimallina87 @heli991113 @ghxst-heart @momc95 @asteria33 @lilyevanswhore @diamond-3 @galaxy-moon @jostyriggslover96 @forgiveliv @shawnsblue @little-wiseone @lovemesomevesey @alm33 @averyhotchner @diorrfairy @thedroneranger @batdanceq @wkndwlff @cassiemitchell @himbos-on-ice @damrlova @fudge13 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @slutford

[queenendless]

🔞 Specialz (Adult!SatoSugu x Adult!Fem!Reader)🔞

A/N: Yeah ... I might be writing more Shibuya inspired smut than I thought. KINDA canon divergence cause in this AU Gojo can heal others too so sorry for the confusion, BIG TIME!

LONG ASS FIC, OVER 7K LONG, MY LONGEST ONE YET OH LORD! ALL FOR THESE TWO SO THERE!

⚠️ CW WARNING ⚠️ NSFW CONTENT! Porn with long ass plot, murder/bloodshed, somewhat feral Gojo, sorta exhibitionism/definite vouyerism, choking kink, tentacle action, deepthroat fuck, breeding/claiming kinks, unprotected sex, clit play, creampie, p in a and v, double p in v, nicknames/pet names, some dirty talk, praise talk, GoGe simping, horny SatoSugu x reader in already established polyamorous MMF relationship. This smut piece is gonna be as horny as I can make it. SO MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

* Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like, and follow instead.

I hope you enjoy.

Credit to anaemicc on Wattpad for the new smut terminology Imma gonna use as reference help when writing 🔞 content from now on.

The setting is Shibuya on Halloween night. Crimson tainting the skies, the cityscape, your thighs ... The AU where Geto is alive, he and Gojo are secret lovers, and are yours, banging you for the entire city to see amiss the chaos that unfolds ...

"Hey you." The sudden warped appearance of you alarmed Jogo, peeved off Choso and stirred up Gojo's sudden carnal longing. "You're wanted elsewhere. So," Your unsure drawl was cut off by Choso's poisonous blood shots narrowly scraping you, swirling through the air, as bodies got caught in the crossfire dropping by the hat. "Eyes on me."

Though that made it hard to divide your attention as you felt so turned on by the gleeful smiling face of one Satoru Gojo that ripped that special grade's veiny arm clean off right between his legs so provocatively.

"Oya oya~" Gojo's eyes widened at the sight of your lithe self; foolishly valiant in the face of death. "I felt you coming a mile away, sweetie~ Sliding in after me, alright~"

"Less innuendo, more exorcizing!" Your cursed energy pushed as many normes outta the way as you could to leave you more room to work to draw that Death Painting in.

Stopping use of his Limitless technique, Gojo gave up on adjusting his technique and focused on compact attacks using curse energy manipulation, operating with only basic cursed energy manipulation and martial arts.

Unable to use Domain Amplification and their Innate Techniques at the same time, Volcano – Jogo – safely uses the former to protect himself unlike Hanami – Weeds.

Foolishly dropping their Domain Amplification just to use their vines to strike at you two compelled you to force push the panicking crowd afar, barely swerving out of range. You're left breathless at a crazed smiling Gojo spinning like a starfish through those vines, eerily giddy as he ripped out those rooted eyes, feeling weak in the knees at imagining Toru asking your greatest weak spot with that look, in that tone…

Your distracted self sensed too late as you were caught in iron, lean arms, eyes glowing dangerously and narrowed possessively.

"Careful, babe~ You want to get hurt that bad, huh~?" The low, dark tone he took with you as his barrier shield you two from the poisoned blood shed coating it, scoffing under his breath. "Where the fuck is he?"

The lights flickered as Volcano and Weeds tried their Amplification fists once more, spurring Gojo to maintain his technique the more they tried neutralizing it.

"Just be careful …" Gojo sounded so far off, trained onto those special grades, reluctantly releasing you. Now was not the time for further discussion. The plan had to keep going, as should you. "Now."

Barely a moment of you warping out of Limitless, did Choso's hands teeming with cursed energy etched straight close to your glowing eyed face. Just where you wanted him.

You sensed another familiar presence down the other end of the tunnel behind him as your cursed energy wave knocked him back enough in the right spot.

"About time." Gojo smacked his tongue under his breath, smirking regardless, relieved at sensing him as well, of course.

"Prison Realm … gate open."

Tentacles slithered out from the shadows beneath Choso's feet, summoned to immobilize him with their tensile grip, just enough time for the gate to unravel in its bleedy X shape. Just as your cursed punch socked him in the face for good measure.

"Nice right hook, honey~" Suguru's rich airy voice was all you could make out to be him since the lights flickered once again.

Choso's lack of combat experience paired with the task of not causing too much carnage did not make things easier. For every limb Choso erodes away from his cursed bloody touch, ten more take their place. The exploding sprays of piercing blood struck down many lingering fools still unable to see the full picture.

"I'm sorry I can't save everyone. So I promise to exorcise them instead!" Both thoughts raced through yours and Gojo's mind.

Your cursed energized back kick whipped Choso's head sideways, earning a low whistle from Geto. For a human spirit hybrid, Choso could take it. You still felt somewhat bad inside for it, though.

Goosebumps immediately raked up your skin at the sight of how easily Gojo crushed the weakened asparagus between his Limitless and the wall.

Volcano's threat to burn them both alive didn't deter Gojo nor Geto in the slightest.

Just as darkness overtook everything one second, light flickered back on in the next.

Hanami's purple blood splattered the crater dented wall; steam and ash wafted off it, leaving Jogo shitting himself.

"Next one."

God, you got wet hard at that moment, blushing something fierce, wanting Satoru looking at you like that.

One minute was up.

The tentacles vanished in place of the cube latching onto Choso, jutting out of him from various points.

"Good night, Choso Kamo. You are spared … this time. Prison Realm, close." With all cursed energy drained, Choso was swallowed right in, the Prison changing from a red fleshy cube with various open eyes to a solid stone closed eyes cube once more, slamming into the floor with sheer force, and Geto looking down at it with disgust. "His desire to avenge his younger brothers' deaths by Itadori-kun's hands means he won't kill himself trapped inside this until he's freed to see his goal through … still though … wasting my efforts on this hybrid monkey. What a joke."

Geto noticing your attention elsewhere, eyes glowing that cursed blue, floating up onto the platform, alarming those frightened monkeys away as you were lost in your future vision. "None of them deserve my cursed gift the way you do."

"Fuck." Gojo's eerily calm voice barely hid his excitement at how breathtaking you look among the carnage littered ground, twistedly smiling at a fleeing Jogo, "The sooner I exorcise you, the sooner I can pound my angel to oblivion."

Magnetically latching his heels on the metal border and levitating himself upright, he used Limitless to halt thrown humans his way by Jogo as cover. If too many lives were lost here, then there'd be no reason for Gojo to hold back anymore. Jogo was itching too close to you to his liking.

Sooner than scheduled —

"An eight-car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line. Please do not lean on the platform doors or reach your hands or face past them." The announcement came on, followed by the rocking screeching sight of the eight train cars hailing from Meiji Shrine.

Lost in the sea of costumed people running for their believed way out of this mayhem, appalled gasps stirred the crowd bustling around the opening train doors as panic and disgust raced through Jogo at the eight car train filled with gutted, bleeding, dead transfigured humans falling out. And no Patchface in sight.

"Mahito – GRK!" Garbling Jogo got grabbed by the neck in his lapse of focus, slammed into the floor, leaving a crater sized dent in the wake.

"Hands off my woman." Gojo hissed venomously.

"That all went faster than expected." After spraying himself insistently to get rid of the monkey stench, Geto picked up the cube and slipped into the back of the station amidst the chaos.

The root covered exit crumpled apart with Hanami now exorcised, causing dozens upon hundreds of people to fall in. Gojo growled, suspecting more cursed spirits or users are above too.

"I'm on it!" Brazenly catching as many falling normies through the caving ceiling as you could brought faint smiles to both their faces.

Looking back to lock eyes with Satoru once more, Suguru slid the cube to him along the floor, his nihilistic smile being the last thing Gojo saw before warping away himself.

Just as three swift blurs came straight outta the train door, helping you catch every other falling figure, bouncing off the debris chunks like springs alongside you.

Recognizing their cursed energy presences, Gojo cackled with mad glee.

"Game over." Slamming Jogo hard enough into the ground, blue flames licked the air as they enveloped Jogo whole. "I win."

Eroding to ashes, Gojo's form sagged down in relief as the fear felt in the room washed away by confusion and relief. Spotting Yuji and Mei instructing the masses left standing to leave via the stairways as Ui stands proudly by his very much older sister's side, including that the proper authorities would tend to them outside. Scooping up the cube, he floated back up to even level.

"Gojo-sensei!" Yuji's cheeriness lightened the bloody setting, running over.

"The veils have all been lifted. Which made exorcizing the special grade responsible for the transfigured humans attainable. Itadori-kun made sure of that." Mei informed him, making Yuji blush from the praise. "Y/n-chan's seer intel was spot on. Truly a valuable asset~" Mei Mei praised you as well.

"I expect nothing less from her~" Gojo's senses – coming down from his looney high – sensed your presence having teleported farther up. On the highest floor. Oh, sweetie, why?

"Hey! Thank Nee-sama for her compliments, you tall oaf!" Ui bristled up.

"So, Gojo-kun, you owe me for today. Cause I'm guessing … Geto-kun will no longer be helping out around here?" Her coy smile paired with that velvety threat didn't deter Gojo facially. But left Yuji as the dumbfounded cutie at the moment.

"Hmm." Pulling his phone out of his jacket pocket, he meddled with it. "Well, with the veils dropped, I'm finally able to make a hefty deposit in your account." The ping on Mei's own phone plus the wide ass smile on her laughing face spoke volumes. "Yuki and Yuta will be stopping by soon. When they do, hand them this." Airily stating, Gojo tossed the cube for Mei to catch, who recognized it right away. "She has her own plans for that hybrid pup, anyway, so …"

Mei hummed pleased with the conspiratory talk, accepting the curse wrapped cube. "The Prison Realm huh? What are you all up to, I wonder?" He didn't look up for further discussion on the topic. She could keep her lips sealed, for however long she gets paid big at least. "Very well. Thank you for the extra pay, Gojo-kun~"

Seeing his student praying on the sidelines for the human lives lost tonight made melancholy stir within him. "Yuji." Grabbing his attention, ruffling his pink hair affectionately, Gojo's endearing smile had Yuji blushing. "Great work."

"Sensei …" Blinking back tears, brushing them away with his sleeve, Yuji nodded firmly. Mahito was exorcised. The lives lost because of him – Junpei – were at last avenged. "I didn't lose this time."

"Good. I'll leave the rest of the cursed spirit clean up to you all … unless the end of the world comes crashing down on us, that is. If not, I'll see you back at campus tomorrow, my precious pupil~" He chuckled as he ruffled Yuji's hair once more. "Until then, gotta jet~!"

His two finger salute and bright smile was the last sight those three saw before teleporting.

Joining his special two souls awaiting him uptop, sky high.

❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞

Two badasses with God complexes.

Conflicting ideals.

Enemies on paper.

But partners nonetheless.

Quelling this near nationwide disaster by a fragile truce to team up and take down those special grades.

All because of you; your cursed Seer self.

Many lives were still lost.

But better that than tipping the scales into full blown chaos.

A pounding headache, for instance. Which made warping that much harder on your head and neck, to be honest. Wobbly walking, vision blurry, now blinding as the Shibuya night lights sparkled through the glass stained border walls of the observatory deck, draping an arm across your stinging eyes as your other hand leaned on the wall for support.

"Where do you think you're going, sweetheart?" Gojo's slow horror slasher walk upon you was twice as nerve wracking as watching it unfold on Volcano head. That plus sexy. "Nearly getting yourself killed. Butting in when I could handle it all myself. Then trying to slip out?" He sighed heavily, vibrant eyes narrowed like a predator. "What am I gonna do with you?"

"Correction." The nihilistic smiling presence of Geto walking out of the shadows behind one of the few supporting metal pillars had your heart jolting in anxious excitement. "What are we gonna to do to you?"

Your hand slipped as your knees buckled, going limp, as your world view tilted, when Satoru caught you from behind, gently helping you sit down; to both their concern and relief.

"Hey hey, easy." Satoru gently laid your head in his lap as he sat Indian-style against the wall, brushing aside your hair strands tickling your face, his fingers massaging your cranium and scalp. "You pushed yourself hard tonight, sweetie."

"For weeks, actually. Just take slow calm breaths." Pulling your legs gently to straddle his hips as he sat curled up before you two, Suguru massaged your thighs, eyeing you with such prideful devotion. "You did great, honey."

Satoru hummed in agreement. "We're so proud of you~"

"Don't mention it." You went limp in their grasp, desiring to stay this way in your own share of Infinity.

"Still though," Satoru's shaky tone made your breath hitch at that same feral edge from before return; gaping to his sinuous intentions. "After the hell we went through tonight … I just want to take you here and now and make you a mess myself~"

"He's not the only one~" Suguru's own supine gaze had your chest tighten in nervous anticipation. "After all the hassle we were put through tonight, we deserve our own reward. Sparing those monkeys required such restraint on my part, after all. You already understand what we seek the most now."

You squirmed, clasping your hands together in a praying plea. "GoGe foreplay first … please~?"

Suguru snorted, slyly smirking at you, holding your hands in his giant sculpted ones, smooching your knuckles. "Hmm, should we give the lovely lady what she wants, Satoru~?"

Satoru sighed heavily, smiling smugly, dipping down to kiss your forehead. "At this point, why not~? Besides," Roughly grabbing him by the bun, Satoru yanked him forward hard enough to clash sloppy smooches with. "I've missed my Suguru~"

You shifted between their two leaning bodies, eyeballing as Satoru's other hand clutched and squeezed Suguru's neck; veins flexing out on said hand and neck. Drool slipped down the corner of Geto's mouth, raspy grunts leaving his rosy flush face, as their velvet slobbering tongue duel dragged on. It was quite enticing to your GoGe starved eyes. "Hah, I see this still gets you going~ Depraved of my suffocating touch crushing you~" Gojo playfully taunted.

Geto husked out some dry laughs, "You crave it too~ Breaking me in, like the raunchy bastard I can see coming out of you~!"

A welt of anger pulsed the side of Gojo's head, startling you as he shifted his weight against Geto's, quickly slamming him against the glass wall beside you by the neck, "How's this for you then~?"

"Hah~! Perfect~!" Geto's raspy laugh was cut off as Gojo devoured his wet mouth whole, their deep groans of lust slipping out between every parting of their lips, drool connecting their tongues as their heaving mouths were so close to each other. Eyes half lidded with smoldering fixation on each other atop such heightened emotions looked to be borderline dangerous. "Tell me, Satoru~ Do you still miss this~?"

From the inky shadows Geto summoned, the tentacles returned, wrapping around Gojo's wrists to free Geto and let him breathe; red prints left on his thick veiny neck, gleefully smiling as the snowy haired man fell to his knees with his hands restrained behind his back. As more tendrils helped undo his gold colored kasaya garment, his black yukata robes came next as the skin of his broad upper body was revealed; damn muscles. The sash now untied, his length was freed, flapping against Gojo's curling lips.

"Getting impatient, aren't we Suguru~?"

"You are too, smart ass~"

"Mmh, you're not wrong~" Missing that taste he always relishes, Gojo hummed as he took Geto all in one go, slathering that pulsing dick with as much fervor as the starving beast coming out inside him that needed sustenance.

"Aah fuck~! Yes, Satoru~! Just like that~!" Suguru's chants of praise went in sync with his lecherous moans as he raked his hand through those snowy locks to press him closer, his little bun fell loosely unkempt from his insistent thrusting, slamming himself against the wall with each bang echoing off the see through borders. "Take me, Satoru~! Take it all~!"

Satoru's insatiable slurping paired with his thorough tongue lashing and gluttonous sucking accentuated Suguru's echoes; his nose buried deep in those raven colored pubes.

A sneaky appendage slithered beneath Gojo's slim tight pants, then under his boxer shorts. Lurching from the slimy firm hold stroking his own hardened length mercilessly, Gojo's deep groans vibrated through Geto's dong, driving his moans higher and louder than before. Rubbing his head with its wet end, sliding down to brush his balls, it all had Gojo's legs trembling as he instinctively grinded against Geto's beating heat. "Sneaky bastard~!" Satoru's muffled words were overshadowed by the titillated mewls mushing out of his stuffed mouth as well.

"Ah~!"

"Mh~!"

"Ngh~!"

Lathered in the cum slipping down both sides of his mouth and chin, Satoru's deepthroating by Suguru's slamming thrusts paired in tuned with those insistent rough strokes on his girth finally had them coming undone in unison; their verbal and muffled cries of release had your eyes bulging out of their sockets.

Pressing your trembling fist to your lips, you marveled at their flushed expressions and enamored noises, leaving you elated at making you come just from watching their pleasure together. And yet, it wasn't enough. Not until you felt those two interwoven with you. You were long overdue.

Your muffled cry of coming reminded those two you were still here, curled up against yourself, eyes glossed, lost in them coming down from their highs.

"Satoru~ It appears our dear Y/n has been by her lonesome long enough~" Dumping his heavy load for the latter to swallow greedily, Suguru retracted those tentacles out from Satoru's now ruffly tainted pants, freeing his bound arms as well, sending that particular curse back into the shadows, watching you with mischievous glee, knowing you in this state would prefer their touch than an octopuses.

Satoru's breathtaking blue eyes were now in your line of sight, heaving heavily with that rosy tinted face, sending droves of butterflies storming your insides. His feral mindstate was returning, being stoked higher, sharing Suguru's sentiments entirely. "Then, what say I plow that pretty mouth of hers myself?" Satoru's languid tone conflicted with his hungry gaze.

"So long as I can devour that finely plump ass~" Suguru purred, mischievously grinning.

"Deal."

Nothing compared to the white hot scorching of your lovers' tongues as Satoru legit crawled over to you, backpedaling you to be flushed against the opposite wall, openly kissing you to submission, your fingers raking through his white undercut then into his fluffy hair had him sighing in comforting bliss. Your eye peaked open, spotting Suguru kissing you from your neck to your jawline until eventually tempting you to pull away from Satoru's lips just to kiss him instead, despite Satoru's pouting at missing your lips already.

"Are you both good? We are risking getting caught together …" You couldn't help it.

Their hearts throbbed for your worrywart self.

Satoru couldn't help but laugh. "Even now, you're still worried about us?"

Suguru chuckled. "We appreciate your concern for us, Y/n, but we're fine."

"More than ever, in fact. And right now, all I want is to gaze upon you. No covers. No restraints." Satoru, taking your hand in his, pressed kisses to your knuckles. "The way it should be~"

You hummed as Suguru took your other hand in his as he pressed it to his cheek, nuzzling your palm then kissing it. "Just the three of us."

You weaved your hands through their locks at the back of their heads, pressing their foreheads against yours, hugging them around their necks, getting teary eyed from the swell of emotions coming forth. "I need you so much closer … both of you."

Tilting your chin upwards between his forefinger and thumb gave more room for Suguru to clamp his teeth deep into your neck, gnawing long and hard enough in various spots to leave those red marks in his wake. "Goddess incarnate, you truly are~"

Sucking and licking from your ear down to the valley between your bosoms, Satoru smugly grinned up at you. "How did demons like us get gifted with such a naughty little angel~?"

With combined feral impatience, they tore open your dark jujutsu jacket, stripping your gasping self of your undershirt as well, smirking as they ripped your bra clasp apart, before devouring a mound for each to take.

"Toru~! Sugu~!" Your wanton cries made them that much harder, your fingers tugging harshly at their hair, as you surrendered to their mouths.

Suguru flicked your one rosy tipped mound, pinching and twisting it between his lithe long digits to his enjoyment at its jigglingness. "Neh … Satoru? Shall we finally claim this sinfully beautiful lady for ourselves?"

Satoru lashed your other swelling hill with feverish hardness, teething your bud as well as suckling it messily in between, before deeply chuckling. "From the look on her face, I'd say so."

He wasn't wrong.

Grabbing you by your hips, ripping the button off your work pants, sliding your panties down with them as well, they both breathed in your long missed bare beauty and your sought out essence.

Satoru's slim-fit matching black pants were shoved down those long fine legs, along with those soiled briefs, freeing himself at last. Suguru's high waisted poofy pants came down too, more erect and thick than before. In their own mind reading way, they knew what they wanted.

"Hug my neck, Y/n. And hold on tight." Satoru commandingly whispered in your ear. Just as you did as instructed, he lifted you up by your hips just as Suguru grabbed you by your knees, both carrying you with iron clad grips, both standing up with such ease. The strongest duo, people.

Stunned from the swift change in position, your hanging self suddenly rolled your eyes back as your body swayed from the tingling pilfering their already coated dongs evoked as they slid into you with familiarity. The flash of pain from the swift plunge made you shout loudly only to moan even harder as they lit the fire in you.

"Aah~! Hah~! Aghn~! Uhh~!" Your incoherent babbling only got them going, stroking their innuendos.

SQUELCH!

Suguru slamming you so hard from behind, drunk on how exhilarating you felt intertwined. "Mmph! Such a – mgh! – tight squeeze you are~!"

FWOP!

Satoru pounding into you excessively, his feral side coming back with a vengeance, shaking from sparks raking his nerves from your inner dripping heat sucking him up just as greedily. "That's it, Y/n~! Take it all~!"

THRUST!

Cum trickled down from all over, trailing down both men's legs and your flesh, forming puddles on the floor at how much was coming out.

The flaps of skin against skin, the gushing squished, the night lights of Shibuya highlighting all your curves, spasms, shuddering, the sweat lining your forms, your gaping sleek mouths, your muscles contracting and clenching.

You deeply missed this.

Intoxicated by their unadulterated need for your indulgence, your arching back, your bouncy breasts throbbing from each thrust, your lissom face, it was all – !

"Fuck, your cunt is heaven~!" Satoru keened hornfully, crushing his sloppy lips into yours, eating up all your mewls.

"Shit, your ass is bliss~!" Suguru raggedly moaned as you clenched around him, slipping in and out ravenously, bringing his face down to chew on your supple peaches.

The cacophony of your trio's profane shouts of ecstasy reverberated around you, eyeing the nightlife beyond the walls, wondering amiss the chaos in your mind if the others were alright. You could feel the number of cursed spirits dwindling, your allies spirits still intact, and the euphoria drowning away the headache your visions always gave.

Time slowed down as you felt Suguru's sweaty face pressing your lower back and Satoru's own against your own, both stopping as they heatedly caught their breaths, exchanging nervous but curious gazes, before Satoru looked into your eyes with his serious ones. "Y/n … will you let us … start a family with you?"

Your heart squeezed as they slowly lowered you back on the stained ground, humming as Suguru expressed the same intentions, having you straddling his lap from behind, angling your face to see his charming one again resting on your shoulder. "Being apart after all this time has made us consider what we now desire going forward."

"Granted, 10 days is just too much separation, if I'm gonna be honest!" Satoru griped, nuzzling your unoccupied cheek, smiling warmly. "And yeah, raising Megumi and Tsumiki together over the years has been quite the adventure."

"The same goes for Mimiko and Nanako … but they particularly want a baby sibling to dote on and spoil endlessly." Suguru softly laughed.

"Granted, I too would spoil that kid … our kid … to be honest, raising a kid in our kind of world is difficult, especially if they become a sorcerer, inherit our techniques, and be seen as another cursed pawn to use for society's personal gains … unless we destroy the corrupt system first." Satoru's straightforwardness had truth to your current realistic problem.

"This past year has been challenging for all of us. And I believe our secret partnership is not so secret after tonight. But if we do decide to have a kid, then we'll defend them until our last dying breaths." Suguru vowed, squeezing your hand in his giant sculpted one to your smiling delight.

"But only with you. And only if you want to." Satoru sheepishly chuckled. "Even though my dick is literally up your womb now."

"Baka." Suguru scoffed under his breath.

Your hands took each of theirs to cup your now stuffed belly together; Satoru's cock still inside. "I'll only ever bear one … with you two."

You were willing to do it. You yearned for it. Lord, the thought of bearing a child you three created together brought tears to your eyes. "So yeah. Let's do it."

Pulling out of you on both ends to make this work, Satoru stripped off his high collared jacket to ball into a makeshift pillow and Suguru slipped out of his monk robes for you to splay your bare back on, they made sure you were comfy enough to further progress as they gently laid you down on your temporary bedding. "Thanks~" You whispered your gratitude, earning big moist smooches on your honey soft cheeks from them.

Lustful possessive looks now sprouting on their faces, Satoru draping your left leg over his left hip and Suguru doing the same to your right leg over his right hip, each then taking a hand of yours to pin them both above your head; intertwined fingers and all, before guiding their veiny soaking thickness in their spare hands to gently, carefully, simultaneously sliding them into your achingly drenched folds. Your breathless urgent gasps came quickly, them being tolerable enough to give you time to adjust at being double stuffed.

After pulling in a lungful of air, you whispered. "K - Keep going."

Rolling their hips in sync, they completely domineered you in all your good spots, their upper ripped bodies flexing to your inner delight as they heaved in and out, gritting out groans through their teeth with you convulsing around them obsessively.

Blood buzzed in your ears whereas theirs were roaring at how much your moans enlivened them.

Their lean statures bending over just to suckle and smooch your face and neck, leaving red blemishes and bite marks in their wake. Your back curving in order to press your fuzzy nude self to theirs for their comfortable safe warmth.

Your throbbing breasts were brazenly exposed by their groping, thumbing and pinching with those long lithe fingers before their mouths swallowed your swelling melons; one for each to partake on. Their steamy breaths, savage canines, and skillful tongues combined with their jutting taking things up a notch had your toes curling and your legs squeezing their waistlines desperately when you saw it.

Your reflections on the smooth ceiling. Your flamed face, their ruffled heads devouring your boobs, cum slathering your clit as more splattered on your abdomen.

The thrill of seeing you all in your primal states made you howl sharper.

"None are worthy to bask in your raw majesty but us~" Suguru dictated selfishly, drooling popping off your breast, noticing your gaze training upwards before his veiny hand grasped your chin, forcing you to meet his depraved smile. "Devoted to only us~!"

"This cunt, this body, everything that you are!" Satoru's deepened husky voice going with each savage pounding had you gushing out more messily as he looked up from your other abused tit with narrowed eyes, shadowed with the thrill of his feral edge. "Ours."

Shedding hotly shimmering tears from the rippling explosions edging you closer, all you could do was writhe and spasm in delectable anguish as their pelvises tapped you like wrecking balls; delving straight for your womb, with your cunt throbbing at how much you missed this. Them. Smothering you in your own ripple of heaven.

The springs were coiling as you were all etching closer to the edge. Static sparked their fingertips when Suguru began gently squeezing and choking you, earning him your gasping heaving mouth with your tongue sticking out to his wry amusement. "Now then honey~ Come for us long and hard~ Your loving Sugu wants it~!"

Trails of fire forming from Satoru aggressively rubbing your clit had you chortling out such adorably profane mewls. "Your precious little self can't take much more of this, sweetie~ I can feel it~ Just let yourself burst free~!"

Suguru's thumb brushed your quivering bottom lip. "Let us bless you with our essence, our very souls~"

Satoru endearingly kissed your bump for good measure. "Let us put the most precious baby in that perfect little oven of yours~"

"Bear our child, Y/n~"

"Turn this cursed night to the most blessed one yet~"

Their squeezing hands on yours had you clawing at their veiny knuckles.

"No one else but you is worthy enough~"

"You were made for us~ You kept us together for all these years~ It has to be you~"

"Our closest friend, our wife, our ray of heaven~"

Your eyes widened as their free hands left your slightly marked neck and reddened clit to lay their hands atop another's over your accelerated heart, smiling with tears in their eyes at the overwhelming sexual amour, confessing with such emotion as the strongest duo that they are.

"I love you."

Their intimate, amorous words thickened with such raw truth did the trick.

The sensation of total release brought about a dizzying explosion of feeling, leaving you shuddering uncontrollably as you reached your glorious peak.

That broke down their floodgates.

Crying your name out in unison, they once again soared over the edge, but dumping a heavy truck load this time. Curling in on you, they flooded themselves inside you, they poured their dumploads of steaming white hotness in every crevice, fold and bundle you held, sloppily pounding into you for good measure to ride that high.

Their conjoined seeds have finally hit their mark.

All you could do was take it all in, heaving and crying softly at how their friction, their hardness, even their engorged heads felt too good inside you to be real.

But it all was.

This nasty, unhinged, embarrassing – yet provocatively arousing time spent on Halloween night.

With these two powerful, terrifying, sometimes unhinged men that have softer, gentler, tender sides to them.

Endlessly devoted, unconditional and all encompassing.

With each other.

And you, of course.

❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞

Over a decade spent cultivating.

Keeping it hush hush, as those two were on opposing sides, but still kept in touch because of you.

Trying to rebel against the system and make way for the next generation of sorcerers to change this kind of world into a better one takes work. Resources. Allies.

Ergo, you departing Jujutsu High post graduation to aid Yuki Tsukumo in her mission, guided by your visions and your own heart's ambitions to end the cursed energy problem; the root cause of this fractured world.

From your prophetic visions starting in your student days to realizing your two loves parting ways, you divulge your hidden truths to them. Wanting you three to stay united. Acting as double agents in a sense. Better than being forced to take each other out in this long marathon game.

Some convincing and persuading lead to an eventual struck deal. Partners slash secret lovers, regardless of their switched conflicting ideals and surface level allegiances. While neither were thrilled at you collaborating with Yuki; her playing her own part in dividing the fine line between them to their somewhat breakup, they knew you were overall fighting to change things your way just as they were doing the same but the way they individually were best at.

Dropping in on them back and forth, from Suguru's temple of a home to Satoru's private housing to even your own apartment when you were in Tokyo, your desire for you three to maintain your bond stayed strong.

Planned secret meetups, play dates where those two talked in private but watched with affection from afar as you get overwhelmed by those four precious rugrats, late night call sessions that lasted until the sun rose, roundabout impromptu rendezvous in each other's bedrooms …

Eventually, those years became 10.

The kids grew up. As did you three.

But with time came change. Good and bad. For you sensed the divide lingering beneath the surface growing to uncomfortable lengths.

When you had that vision whilst traveling abroad with Yuki doing research.

Of that December night.

The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.

As Yuuta Okkotsu nearly killed Suguru.

And Satoru was tasked with executing him.

But willingly spared him as you arrived, their stunned faces on par with your eyes glowing and tears trekking down your face, as you tearfully embraced your one armed lover, begging for Satoru to heal him, offering Suguru refuge, for you no longer desired them fighting each other anymore.

Proclaiming that if they ever loved you at all, that you'd all marry each other straight away.

After a stunned faces pause from them both, immediately in came some touch deprived, molten kisses from both your men then watching them exchange some as well, Satoru restored Suguru's arm and promised to rendezvous with you as soon as he could, knowing he had his students to check up on. And Suguru had to pick up his girls as you helped walk him out of the wrecked school grounds as best you could.

While you have been dating for a decade, the idea of marriage popping up various times never came to fruition. Knowing your taboo relationship meant treason for Satoru and execution for them both if found caught.

But that near death experience, the second one, made you all reconsider how short your lives were and how certain precious things shouldn't be taken for granted, especially in this cursed world. You couldn't bear it. And neither could they. The look of heartbreak on your face was one neither desired to be the cause of.

Meeting up in Okinawa, among the snow covered flowers, in loving memory of Riko and Kuroi, internally apologizing for failing them to save them both when your vision came too late and you were too far away and not strong enough to aid them and your loves the most, hoping they and your dear friends back at Jujutsu High were both there in spirit, watching over you all and granting their blessing.

On Christmas Day, arriving well into the afternoon, with an awkward faced, gray suited Megumi and an optimistic Tsumiki in a floral lace bodice ruffle trim wrap hem chiffon formal gown in baby pink. Smack dabbed in between the siblings, Satoru Gojo was well suited up in his tux; hair down and shades on.

As was Suguru Geto, his hair now cut to grace up to his shoulders, right arm intact, in a matching tux, with the twins coordinating with Tsumiki on the plane ride over; Mimiko in a similar dress in navy blue and Nanako in a matching one but in burnt orange.

The impromptu modern-day elopement went underway in the chapel overlooking the snowy garden.

Thankfully, the twins helped score you an Ariel dress; a romantic cloud of matt organza, with a removable balloon skirt and sleeves, and a subtle black chiffon ribbon.

Your chaotic duo were awestruck, jaws slacked and eyes radiating with unbridled love.

Your four kids beaming with supportive glee at how you; their mother practically at that point, walked down that aisle like an angel descending down from the heavens. The girls giggling as you gave a flustered Megumi your bouquet.

Your hands grasping one of each from them as you began the small private ceremony.

Astonished and amazed that Satoru, having memorized both yours and Suguru's ring sizes, had purchased them as soon as they landed.

Improvising your vows on the spot, you three merely spoke from the heart.

The rest of the week was spent touring Okinawa, the guys treating your kids to all the joys this place gave to them and their long passed friends they consider as family too, making sure they were all conked out before your husbands treated you in your shared newlyweds suite and made sure to remind you just how much they both missed, cherished and adored you.

The rest of the year spent looking back on the hectic events leading up to that moment, as fireworks flashed throughout the night sky, the girls and Satoru cheering for the new year, Megumi and Suguru exasperated but smiling nonetheless, and you relishing being snug in between your embracing loves.

The congratulatory calls over Satoru's phone from Shoko and Nanami teemed with suspicion and reluctance whereas Haibara was over the moon for it. Even Yuki called you and gushed over your dramatic lovely momentum. All of them seemingly suspecting Suguru had survived but choosing to keep shut about it along with your kids, to you three's grateful reliefs.

A lot has changed since then.

Satoru letting you, Suguru, and the twins crash at his private home in the countryside where Tsumiki usually stayed with Megumi before he began attending Jujutsu High and staying in the dorms.

Suguru decided to try and start over, becoming the stay at home father of the group while Satoru was working and you were traveling. Still working out and training to still be in the best shape along with his girls, knowing that this new take on life would take time to adjust to as well as work on their hateful outlook on humanity as a whole.

Then a new issue revealed itself.

Particularly… Kenjaku.

Fortunately, your visions have helped you all derail his plans a lot over the past year and several months. But a millennium old cursed user was just part of the problem.

The rise of special grade cursed spirits with self awareness and intelligence was another.

So training Megumi along with Yuji and Nobara made sense to prepare them for what lay ahead. Yuji especially, with the King of Curses taking refuge inside him. But you still cherished them and the second years like your own babies as well.

Your last call with Yuki involved her discovery of the long sought after Prison Realm your vision foretold of as well as its hiding place.

The events of the Shibuya Incident came soon after. The deaths of thousands. As well as who was responsible.

After nearly passing out from the info overload, you made sure to message your husbands on the issue at hand. While apprehending slash rescuing the traitor Kokichi Muta from that Patchface's assault, Satoru saw your visions theories as proven fact with aid from Kokichi's own confessions.

Not willing to take the chance, of course you intervened.

Right before Yuki's sudden visit at your place, dropping the cube in a wary Suguru's grasp, giving him her personal request to capture Choso Kamo alive in the cube, so Satoru's imprisonment in it doesn't come to fruition as your vision unfortunately revealed as well, assuring him she'd stop by to pick it up when the hard work was done, dropping the bomb on him in her own Yuki way.

So Suguru; not fully trusting her, getting involved fell under his own personal agenda to ensure you both would stay alive and unsealed.

Of course Satoru got a text from her to give him a heads up on her and Yuta dropping by soon.

Then came the detailed veils dropping right after you two slipped in behind Satoru.

You know what happened next …

Which all leads to right now.

The walk down memory lane ended with you coming down from your high at last, easing down, relaxing your sore, tingling, fatigued self.

Pulling out their softened dicks in unison, admiring how much of their cum filled your swollen red pussy and stuffed your moistened ass crack; trickling down like tiny streams of thick cream. They released your hands as their heaving selves laid down on either side of you, cushioning you in between. Satoru's snug tee and Suguru's sweaty scarred chest.

"That … was awesome." Satoru breathlessly cheered.

"Our best one yet." Suguru hummed proudly.

"Question. Whose cleaning this mess up?" Your shaky finger pointed at the cum all over the floor.

Both men tiredly cackled, nuzzling your nose and cheeks.

"Eh, let the workers here handle it, sweetheart~ We did help save Halloween, after all!" Satoru mused.

"Besides, we have more important matters to discuss." Suguru pointed out.

"Like?" You panted.

Suguru pushed himself up to gather your discarded clothing. "What shall we name our bundle of joy?"

"Mochi~!"

"No food related names, Satoru." He was deadpan serious.

"I'd rather that than anything outdated or boring! Our kid deserves the best name possible! Unless you want them to be miserably stuck with one for life~?" Satoru prayed that wasn't the case.

"Ahem." Your reaching hand had Satoru pulling you up on your sore bum as Suguru handed back your attire. "I'd rather we put our clothes back on, go home, call it a night, and talk about this in the morning. When I'm not entirely wiped out?"

Satoru started putting back on his jacket, flirting, "Oh our sweet, darling angel, how our world turns to your loveliness~"

Suguru slipped back on his robes and kasaya garment, tying them up tight. "She's right though. We've postponed our departure long enough. The girls are waiting for us back home, after all."

"Work related stuff can be dealt with in the morning." Satoru groaned, stretching his limbs, popping them from stiffness.

"Need help getting up though." You whimpered, fully dressed but too sore to stand up.

"Allow me the honor, our lovely wife~" Suguru swooned, sweeping you up with no struggles.

"Can we squeeze in one spooky film viewing though~?" Satoru pouted, pleading.

"In the living room, with the girls. You handle the snacks, I get the blankets." Suguru suggested.

"Deal." They kissed on it to your giggling relief. "Y/n, you're something special, ya know that~?" Satoru, your husband, pecked your nose.

"Our special wife, soon to be mother of our child." Suguru smooched your forehead.

"Oh, how long will that take, I wonder~? Hehe, our bedroom is gonna get pretty occupied for a while~" Satoru chuckled mischievously.

"Hey." Their eyes looked to yours as you smiled with such smittenness. "I love you both too."

They both kissed either side of your lips, coming together in one drawn out smiling smooch, before Satoru grabbed Suguru's shoulder, allowing you all to teleport on outta there together.

Back home, safe and sound.

For your own special Halloween.

The night is still young, ya know.

[sethsclearwater]

synopsis: based on this request from @raxwrites where paul imprints on reader but she’s already in a (very shitty) relationship. paul convinces her to spend one night with him and reader realizes just how quickly he’s making her fall for him.

warnings: smut, dom!paul, sub!reader, cheating(?) (on a shitty guy lol)

word count: 5.49k

…

you and leah had been friends since childhood. you two were more or less attached at the hip and it was one of the many reasons why leah had decided to fuck with sam’s head and tell you about the shapeshifters. fortunately for everyone, you had taken the news quite well and actually found the whole thing rather funny considering how annoyed you had the opportunity to watch sam get when he heard she broke the news. 

shortly after the news broke, embry had made an off-handed joke about you being paul’s imprint - yet another thing you were unfamiliar with. despite the death stare embry got from paul after saying that, he stumbled out some half-assed explanation of it which left you more confused about the whole thing than ever. 

after both leah and embry had given you the world’s vaguest explanation of it, you had decided to just drop it and go back to focusing on the fact that leah and her entire “friend group” were a bunch of massive wolves. 

all of this led to today where you and your boyfriend were in a heated argument over his night out with a girl who he had repeatedly told you not to worry about. “for fuck’s sake josh! what part of you two spending the night together was platonic?” you yelled, angry tears streaming down your cheeks as you got up from your spot at the kitchen table to find your keys and phone. 

you two had been going at it for over 2 hours now and were making absolutely no progress so you figured now was as good a time as any to get the hell out of your apartment. 

“we literally didn’t do anything! i don’t get why you have to make such a big deal out of everything! you seriously need to work on your jealousy issues because you sound crazy right now!” your boyfriend yelled back, making sure his voice was louder than yours in some weak attempt to assert his dominance over you.

at the use of the word ‘jealousy’ you decided this was it and grabbed your phone and keys before quickly getting out of the apartment, sprinting down the steps to your car despite the sub-freezing, snowy conditions currently happening all around you.

as you turned the ignition on and began pulling out of your parking spot, you could faintly make out josh at the top of the steps yelling some slew of obscenities at you. you ignored him, using the back of your hand to wipe the tears off your cheeks before you were driving over to emily young’s house where leah supposedly was according to her last text a few hours prior.

after hearing that your boyfriend decided to spend the night with another girl (who he adamantly claimed was just a friend), leah let you know that she’d be over at emily’s for most of the day if you needed her or a place to stay for the night while you cooled off.

the drive over to emily’s was only about 10 minutes but ended up taking nearly double that thanks to the snow-covered roads. as you pulled into her driveway and quickly got out of your car, you neglected to realize that the only car in her driveway was one of the boy’s. 

in your haste, you ran up to the door, knocking rather hard when you finally felt the chill from the 20-degree temperatures outside. it didn’t take more than a few seconds for the door to open and reveal paul lahote.

he looked just as confused as you imagined you must’ve but you couldn’t have really cared less, just desperate to get out of the cold at this point, “where’s leah?” you asked with a sniffle as you pushed past him to get into the warmth of emily’s house.

paul stepped back, quickly shutting the door behind him to keep the heat in, “she’s on patrol- or work, fuck, work-” he stumbled out, watching your crying figure as you kicked your shoes off and tossed your keys and phone onto the entryway bench. 

“are you okay?” he asked after a moment, his voice softening as you slumped down in one of the kitchen chairs with another round of tears rolling down your cheeks. you’d seen paul on occasion, mostly in group settings with the rest of the pack but he did drive you home a few times when it was too rainy or snowy for you to walk back so you weren’t total strangers.

you paused at his question, looking up at him pleadingly with tears rapidly streaming down your cheeks. you imagined you must’ve looked like a hot mess. you’d gotten out of the shower just before your boyfriend arrived home so you hadn’t had time to do anything with your hair and were only wearing a pair of old sweatpants and some oversized t-shirt you’d pulled out of the back of your closet.

“do i look okay?” you asked, letting out a weak laugh as you reached your hands up to palm away the tears that couldn’t seem to stop streaming down your cheeks. paul frowned, watching you carefully as he pulled out the chair next to you, slowly sliding down into it as he tried to figure out what on earth to do with you.

“sorry,” paul mumbled after a moment, “he didn’t hit you, did he?” he asked, voice hesitating for a moment before he ended his question, clearly unsure if he was overstepping or not by prying into your personal life despite how little the two of you knew each other. 

you let out another breathy laugh at his concern, shaking your head with a sniffle, “jus’ cheated on me,” you managed to get out, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as you pulled your legs up to your chest and wrapped your arms around them, still not meeting paul’s gaze. 

every ounce of dignity you had was just shredded thanks to the current state you found yourself in but paul didn’t seem to mind your emotions too much, “you wanna talk about it?” he asked softly, his frown deepening when yet another round of tears came spilling over your waterline and down your cheeks. 

shaking your head, you finally worked up the nerve to peek up and meet his gaze for a moment, “not really no,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper, “i hate that fucker,” you added after a moment, both you and paul letting out quiet laughs at your comment.

“can’t say i like him too much either,” paul reassured, cracking the tiniest bit of a smile which had you letting out a heavy sigh of relief. something in you just felt unbelievably better knowing that someone was able to sympathize with your pain.

“you want some water?” he asked after a moment, offering you a small smile when you nodded. while you attempted to dry your cheeks of your tears, paul got up and quickly got you a glass of water to stop you from crying even more and hopefully lessen the severity of the headache both of you knew you’d be getting in a few short hours.

he handed you the glass, your fingers brushing for just a moment too long, “thank you,” you whispered, taking the glass and sipping on it to give yourself a moment to shake the insatiable feelings you were now realizing you’d definitely been having for the poor boy for months now. 

paul gave your upper arm a gentle squeeze before he was grabbing his phone, “you wanna sit down in the living room? emily’s got the pullout couch in there if you wanna get some sleep,” he asked as he quickly responded to whatever text he had just gotten a few moments prior. you thought about his proposition for a moment before humming and nodding.

“with you?” you asked, raising your eyebrows at him as you looked up at him, your small smile coming in stark contrast to you puffy, tear-stained cheeks.

paul rolled his eyes, “won’t make it weird,” he reassured, “just don’t want you getting all worked up again,” he added, and this time you rolled your eyes, hardly able to contain the small smile on your face as you got up and made the incredibly short trek into the living room. 

while you grabbed your phone to see if leah had responded to any of your texts, paul got the pullout set up so the two of you could sit down there and hopefully just throw on a movie or something, “emily said leah is gonna be back in a few hours,” paul broke the silence with after a few moments as if he’d read your mind or something. 

you hummed and nodded, smiling softly when he offered you his hand so he could help you onto the makeshift bed. your hand slid into his as you got into the pullout, pausing for a moment when he slid his hand onto your lower back to help steady you. 

paul noticed your pause, gently squeezing your hand when you peeked over your shoulder to look at him, “everything okay?” he asked, watching as you finally allowed yourself to actually look at him.

your boyfriend or ex or whatever the hell he was must’ve clouded your vision way more than you thought because you’d never really paid any attention to paul or the way he looked at you before. but today, you finally saw how he’d been watching you this whole time, something much softer in his gaze than anything you’d ever seen with your boyfriend.

you’d never seen a man look at you like that before and weren’t looking to lose it anytime soon. before your mind could catch up to what your heart was planning, you were tightening your grip in his hand to pull him closer to you and smashing your lips against his.

paul must’ve seen it coming from a mile away because he didn’t waste any time before he was melting into you, untangling his hand from yours so he could slide both hands down to your hips and pull you closer to him. 

your hands were on his chest, desperately running them down until you found the hem of his t-shirt so you could slide your hands underneath, “fuck,” paul groaned against your lips when he felt the way your palms flattened out against the expanse of his abdomen, your hands sliding up his chest so you could tug his t-shirt up.

paul already understood what you meant, parting his lips from yours for a moment much to your dismay. he let out a breathy laugh as he pulled his shirt up and over his head when he saw the pout that had quickly formed on your face, “c’mere,” he murmured as soon as he had tossed the shirt to the side, sliding his hands back down to your hips so he could pull you closer to him and press his lips against yours again. 

his fingers toyed with the thin material of your t-shirt, “can i take this off?” he murmured against your lips, letting out a breathy laugh when you quickly nodded pulling back so he could help you take your shirt off. 

in your haste getting out of the shower earlier, you’d apparently neglected to put a bra on which left your bare chest exposed to him. paul sucked in a sharp breath when he saw the way your nipples were already hardening as they were exposed to the cool air, “fuck me,” paul groaned, “lay down-” paul ordered, not giving you a moment to process what he was saying before he was manhandling you down onto the squeaky pullout mattress, conveniently wedging himself in between your legs so he could have better access to you.

he didn’t waste any time, latching his lips around your nipple, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud while he massaged your other boob with his hand. “paul-” his name fell off your lips so easily, moaning and whining as he rolled your nipple between his finger and just barely grazed his teeth over the other one, “paul please-” you whimpered, desperately reaching down to pull him up so you could touch him in all the ways your body was begging you to.

“‘s wrong?” he asked with a breathy laugh, already knowing you were definitely more than okay but the sudden whining from you had him a little bit concerned he was being too rough with you.

you just shook your head, desperately reaching down to his sweatpants, “i need you-” was all you were able to make out as you dipped your hand below his waistline, immediately wrapping your hand around his now fully hardened cock. 

paul dropped his head against your collarbone and let out a low groan when he felt your fingers wrap around his length.  “i’ll fuck you in a minute,” he reassured, sliding his non-supporting hand over yours to gently pry it off of him so he could finish prepping you for him.

you let out a disgruntled sigh which had paul laughing again, shaking his head, “you got it,” he mused, dropping down to press a soft kiss to your lips. you were happily reciprocating the action against his lips, running your fingers up his chest so you could snake them around his neck and knot in his inky hair to pull him closer to you.

paul was all too aware of just how you needed him, making quick work of sliding his hands down to dip below your sweatpants, toying with the thin material of your panties for a moment, the frustration leaving you whining against paul’s lips.

he paid little mind to your whines, taking his time dancing his fingers along the outline of your panties, barely brushing his fingers over your covered clit, chuckling to himself when he heard the mewling that left your lips at the sensation, “paul-” you whimpered, tightening your fingers against his hair so you could hold him closer to you.

paul allowed you to hold him close, pressing his lips to your neck, “‘m comin’” he reassured, dipping his fingers below your panties so he could swipe them through your slick folds. you were muffling your whines against the crook of his neck, untangling your fingers from his hair so you could wrap your arms around his neck, a rather loud moan leaving your lips when he finally pressed down on your clit.

“there you go,” he murmured against your neck, slowly circling his pointer finger around your little entrance while his thumb continued to toy with the sensitive bundle of nerves between your thighs, “breathe princess,” paul reminded as he lifted his head from your neck so he could get a better look at you, hardly containing his laugh when he heard just how fast your heart was beating from your lack of oxygen.

you nodded, sucking in a deep breath as you ran your fingers across his shoulders, dancing them along his chest while paul allowed you a moment to catch your breath, “there you go,” he mused, slowly dipping his pointer finger into your canal, the muscles immediately fluttering around him as you took the intrusion. 

“deep breaths for me princess,” paul murmured as he began curling and uncurling his finger inside you, working at stretching you out for his cock, “such a good job,” he cooed as he watched the way you followed his instructions, your little whines and moans as he continued to toy with your clit letting him know all he needed to know.

once he felt your walls beginning to relax around his finger, he slowly added a second finger to your channel, dropping his head down to press a soft kiss to your lips when he heard the low whine you let out at the stretch, “breathe princess,” paul reminded, his lips leaving yours for only a moment before he was melting into you again, slowly scissoring his fingers as he stretched you out. his thumb gently rolled your clit, the pleasure and paul’s lips against yours serving as a pleasant distraction from the stretching. 

once he’d decided you were no longer tense, he began curling his fingers inside your delicate walls, smiling to himself when he felt the spongey tissue of your g-spot, the sudden hitch in your breathing followed by a low moan letting him know he definitely needed to continue the action. 

he continued curling his fingers against the sensitive tissue, parting his lips from yours to pepper your neck and shoulders with delicate kisses. as soon as he felt your walls beginning to tighten around his fingers, he began working at marking up your collarbone.

“paul-” you whined, flattening your palms against his biceps, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as your head dropped back into the pillows as you felt the coil in your belly beginning to tighten. you had never cum with your ex before, always finding yourself needing to take care of yourself on your own time because he couldn’t be bothered with it. so paul managing to have you nearly cumming on his fingers within just a few minutes was forcing you to rethink why the hell you hadn’t gotten with him sooner. 

“cum on my fingers princess,” paul murmured against your collarbone, continuing his steady pace as he stroked your g-spot and rolled your clit.

you whimpered, desperately working to meet your orgasm and come undone on your imprinter’s fingers, “nice and easy,” he murmured when he felt your walls tightening around his fingers, well aware of just how close you were to cumming, “there you go kitten, let go for me,” he encouraged, keeping all of his actions steady, his words sending you right over the edge as you finally complied and let go.

your orgasm washed over you, your walls desperately throbbing around paul’s fingers while he continued to lighten his touches, helping you work through it without overstimulating you too much. you were sucking in heavy lungfuls of air, eyes fluttering open as you worked at getting your heart rate down to a reasonable bpm. 

you wrapped your splayed palms around paul’s shoulders to pull him down for a tight hug. a soft laugh left his lips at your action, slowly pulling his fingers out of your soaked channel, “deep breaths princess,” he cooed, pressing his lips to your hairline while he allowed you a few more moments to compose yourself. 

“there you go,” he chuckled when he finally heard your breathing and heart rate even out to a reasonable level, “you think you can take my cock?” he asked as you loosened your grip on him a bit, allowing him to lift his head so he could get a better look at your expression.

you nodded, “please,” you whispered, running your hands across his shoulders and biceps before sliding them down his chest, looking down to the ever-prominent tent in his pants from you. your cheeks were heating up to a bright pink when you realized what an effect you were having on him, quickly lifting your gaze away from the bulge to look back up at him.

paul chuckled, “i’m all yours,” he reassured, failing to hide his smirk when he saw how flustered you got at the thought of him being yours. you’d been so oblivious to him for over a year now, too invested in your own problems to ever realize just how he looked at you or see how he always managed to be there for you at the perfect time. 

you slowly nodded as you processed his words, blushing an even deeper red when he got out from in between your thighs to get up and tug his sweatpants down. his hardened cock was quick to stand at attention, the tip a fierce red with droplets of precum pooling.

paul smirked again when he saw the way you were staring at his cock, leaning down to hook his fingers around your sweatpants and panties to he could tug them down and toss them to the side as well, “all mine?” you asked after a moment, finally pulling your gaze from his cock to look up at him.

“all yours,” paul confirmed as he got back on the pullout, “get on your hands and knees for me, yea? gonna show you who you belong to,” he added, barely holding back his laugh when he saw how flustered you continued to get every time he spoke to you. 

as you processed his words, paul slid his hands down to your hips so he could help you get onto your hands and knees, the poor pullout bed making all sorts of pathetic squeaks as it desperately tried to stay up while you and paul fucked. 

“such a good girl,” paul praised once you were settled on your forearms and knees, one of his hands remaining on your hip to steady you while he spit into the other one, quickly spreading the saliva across his cock to help lubricate him so you wouldn’t have too much difficulty taking his length. 

paul was by far the largest man you’d ever been with, something paul had managed to figure out by himself when he felt just how tight you were clamped down on his fingers a few minutes prior, “deep breath for me princess,” paul ordered as he slid his hand in between your thighs, dipping his finger into your channel for just a moment to make sure you were still ready to take him before he was pulling it out and replacing it with the tip of his cock.

at the feeling of his cock prodding at your entrance, you reminded yourself to breathe, letting out a slow exhale, and relaxed your hips so paul could pull you back onto his cock, “so fuckin’ pretty,” paul groaned, both hands tightly gripping your hips as he tugged your hips back to impale you on his cock, “keep breathing princess,” he reminded, keeping a firm grip on your hips as he felt the way your walls were desperately working to accommodate the intrusion that was your imprinter.

you were whining, resting your forehead against your hands as you tried to relax yourself enough to make room for paul, “‘s really big paul-” you whimpered, moving to pull your hips forward but paul’s hands remained firm.

“breathe princess,” paul reminded, “i’ve got you, yea? not gonna hurt you, just need to stretch you out on me, okay?” he added, gently rubbing his thumbs in circles against the fatty flesh of your hips.

you slowly nodded, peeking over your shoulder to look up at him, immediately feeling way better when you saw how confident he looked in his promise, “you want me to hold you? might help you feel better,” he suggested, smiling when you quickly nodded.

“c’mere,” he cooed, sliding his hands down to your ribs, slowly pulling you up. as he helped you up, his cock pushed further into your channel, “you’re okay,” he reassured when he heard your whining. he wrapped his arm around you, coming to rest just under your breasts as he pulled you up so your back was flush with his chest.

“just a little more,” he murmured, wrapping his other arm around your abdomen so he could hold you steady as he pushed himself the rest of the way into you, “such a good girl,” he mused, pressing his lips to your head when he felt you finally relax into his arms, allowing your head to rest against the crook of his neck.

while he allowed you a few moments to process the feeling, he pressed gentle kisses to your hairline, murmuring quiet praises. once your walls stopped desperately clenching around him, relaxing just enough to accommodate him comfortably, you were letting out a soft sigh, lifting your head up to peek over your shoulder up at him, “feels okay?” he asked, pressing his lips to your temple when you hummed and nodded.

“that’s my girl,” he praised, muffling his chuckle against your hair when he felt your walls flutter around him at the praise, your heart skipping a few beats as you processed just what you were doing with him. you nuzzled your nose into the crook of his neck in a weak attempt to hide your blush from him, your hands hooking around his forearm to hold yourself steady.

paul decided against teasing you about it, suddenly becoming much more aware of just how badly he wanted to cum inside you when he felt your walls clenching down around him, “you let me know if you want me to slow down, okay?” he asked, waiting for you to nod before he was drawing his hips back, his cock dragging along your walls in the most delicious way possible before he was plunging himself back inside you, not wasting a moment before he was setting a rough pace, one hand holding you up while the other held your hips in place so he could snap his against yours.

you let out a loud whine at the first thrust, dropping your head back against his shoulder again, eyes closing as pleasure began flooding through your system yet again, “just needed my cock in you didn’t you?” he asked with a chuckle when he saw the way you were desperately nodding, loving how much pleasure you were so easily able to provide each other.

he slid one hand down to your abdomen, splaying his palm across the smooth skin so he could keep you steady but also drop his thumb down to toy with your clit. “oh my god-” you whimpered when you felt the pleasure coursing up your spine, forcing your brain into a fuzzy mess as you tried to comprehend all the sensations and emotions spilling through you.

“my cock feel that good? makin’ you feel better, isn’t it?” he gritted out, his thrusts getting rougher when he saw just how quickly you were coming undone on him. he held you up, supporting you as he continued to fuck you as you desperately nodded.

“so good-” you whimpered, “all yours,” you added softly, just loud enough for paul to pick up on it. hearing you admit he owned you just as much as you did him snapped something inside him, suddenly every fiber of his being telling him to make sure everyone knew you were his.

“this pussy is all mine, yea? all mine,” paul repeated, his grip around your chest tightening when he felt the way your walls were suddenly desperately fluttering and clenching around him, both of your emotions going haywire at the connection.

you hummed, squeezing your hands around his forearms in a weak attempt to stabilize yourself, “not giving it to anyone else, you understand? you’re mine now,” paul ordered, pinching your clit between his fingers when he realized you weren’t responding to him. 

a loud moan escaped your lips at the sudden jolt, “not giving it to anyone else-” you breathlessly repeated back, able to form a somewhat coherent response by some grace of god. you weren’t used to being made such a mess from a cock, desperately trying and failing to keep some shred of control as paul continued his ruthless thrusts. 

“that’s what i thought,” paul pushed his hips into yours, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix to send his point home, the action taking away any control you might’ve had as you fully surrendered in his arms, trusting him to support you, “gonna fill you up so everyone knows just who owns you and you’re gonna take it all like a good girl, aren’t you?” he asked, his rhetorical question sending your brain into a tizzy as you desperately nodded, not trusting yourself to form a coherent response.

paul let out a dark laugh when he saw your nod, your approval being all he needed to pick up the pace until he had your breasts bouncing atop his forearms with each thrust, your moans and heavy breaths filling the silence of emily’s living room as your orgasm rapidly began approaching.

“paul i’m gonna-” you started, gasping when he rolled your clit between his fingers, the action having you dangerously close to cumming without his approval and, based on how dominant he had been with you tonight, you’d imagined he wouldn’t take too kindly to you cumming before he let you.

“such a good girl,” paul praised, “make a mess on my cock for me,” he added, rubbing circles against your clit while his cock continued to stretch you out with each thrust, the small bulge in your belly with each snap of his hips sending him over the edge at the same time as you.

the knot in your belly snapped as paul shot his release into your walls, both of you holding each other as tight as you could as you rode your highs. paul’s thrusts stuttered as his cum spilled into you, the feeling of your walls throbbing around him as you came having him pushing his hips as close to yours as he could, “paul-” you whined when you felt the way the tip of his cock was prodding against your overstimulated cervix. 

“not yet-” he responded breathlessly, “let me fill you up,” he added, holding you close to him as he spilled his release in you. you nodded, relaxing back into him as you came down from your high, both of your breathing heavy and ragged as you came back down to earth. 

you gently squeezed paul’s forearms, lolling your head to the side so you could nuzzle your nose against his collarbone, “there you go,” paul murmured after a few moments, slowly loosening his grip on you so he could pull his cock back enough so he wasn’t overstimulating you to the point of annoyance, “you’re staying here for the night, yea?” he asked, pressing his lips to your hair as he waited for your response.

you let out a soft laugh and nodded, “you can have me in the morning if you want,” you added teasingly, squealing when paul snapped his hips back against yours at the comment, a lewd squelching sound from all the fluids pooling between your thighs. 

“i’ll be holding you to that,” paul agreed, giving you one more squeeze before he was slowly letting you go and pulling himself out of you so he could get you cleaned up. as he helped you lay down on the couch, you intertwined your fingers with his hand, tugging him down so he could lay next to you.

paul complied, allowing you to pull him close to you, “still gonna have to clean you up in a minute,” paul reminded, opening his arms so you could get between them wrapping them around you to hold you close once you got settled. 

“just wanna lay with you for a minute,” you whispered, tossing your leg over his hip to hold him even closer to you as paul got a blanket over your naked figures. your comment had his heart doing all sorts of things he’d never felt before so he settled for just pressing his lips to the crown of your head while you cuddled up with him.

before paul’s mind could get the best of him, you peeked up at him, “i’ll break up with him,” you reassured, smiling when paul let out a heavy sigh of relief, nodding. 

you snuck a quick kiss against his lips, smiling when you saw how flustered you managed to make him over the action, quickly burying your face in the crook of his neck so you could get comfortable and allow him a moment to get it together.

paul gently ran his hand up and down your side, holding you close to him as the two of you just soaked each other in. before he could come up with a response to your promise, he heard your breathing begin to even out, quickly realizing you’d definitely fallen asleep in his arms.

“just a few minutes,” he mumbled to himself, holding you close as he also let the fatigue take over him as well.

bonus: leah, emily, and some of the boys coming back to find reader and paul’s clothes thrown all over the house with the two of them passed out on the pull out couch - all of them can’t stop laughing about it and never let reader and paul live it down.

[ode2rin]

your tequila lips is my idea of luxury

pairing. mikage reo x gn!reader

genre. fluff & university/college rom :D 

warnings/content. 4.1k+ wc | soccer team captain!reo (giggles) | mentions of alcohol, drinking, and drunken state | public kissing (don’t ask) | minimal proofread | me and my poor attempt of banter

in which: last night left you with three hazy memories — a dare, a kiss, and the name reo mikage

If college has managed to drill one thing into your head, it’s the gospel of abstaining from weekday drinking. After all, who in their right mind willingly marches to class with a pounding headache? Certainly not you.

But if there’s also one thing college didn't prepare you for, that is ignoring that one advice it drilled into you, and the golden rule of never, ever going against your own wisdom. 

If it did, then maybe you wouldn’t find yourself seated at the table of your kitchen dorm, your elbows resting heavily on its surface and your hands cradling your throbbing head, with your fingers pressed against your temples in a feeble attempt to alleviate the pounding sensation that is making you feel like it’s your last day on earth.

And to add a splash of more chaos to the mix, you feel like your headache intensified by tenfold at the absurdity of what your roommate just told you.

“I did fucking what now?”

“You kissed Reo at the party last night! Reo freaking Mikage!”

Yup, it’s definitely your last day on earth.

“ —and we squealed so loud! We never thought you had it in you to pull shit like that!” 

Well, you didn’t either.

“Hold on, talk slowly! I kissed him?!” 

Furrowing your brows, you attempt to process the bombshell your roommate just dropped on you. 

“Don’t tell me you forgot what happened last night!”

To say that your roommate did a poor job of filling you in on what atrocity happened last night is an understatement. The only thing you managed to register from the weirdly sequenced story were two things: kiss and Reo. 

And from there, the memories of last night came rushing back to you. 

Fucking hell.

You are damned, no doubt. Of all people, it had to be Reo Mikage. Are you even allowed to say that name so casually, even in your mind? That name drips gold and glory in every letter. He’s probably the richest guy on campus, the most famous (for sure), and on top of that, he’s the captain of the goddamn soccer team. Talk about a boring and plain college life he’s living. 

And to kiss that said man in a party for a dare? You’re doomed. You’re done for. You did the worst thing imaginable. 

You should’ve known better that nothing good comes out of college parties and dumb drinking games.

You made a lot of questionable decisions in your life, that you admit. But this one probably takes the top spot.

And it all started innocently enough – with a dare. 

The kind of dare that only seems like a great idea after a few too many shots. You had been the reigning champion of beer pong for as long as you could remember, and your friends decided it was high time to knock you down a peg. The stakes were set: a dare for a dare, and you were handed the ultimatum. Win the game or face the consequences.

But as fate would have it, your well-practiced skills crumbled under the pressure, and you found yourself facing the ultimate punishment—eight shots of tequila, back-to-back, in quick succession. 

Under typical circumstances, you could easily handle that quantity, but regular situations don't account for having a crucial presentation the following day. Eight shots? It's a nightmare, considering you've reached your limit.

And so, you found yourself stumbling through the crowd with only one goal in mind: redemption.

Or maybe it was the tequila that whispered that goal into your ear, urging you to prove yourself. It was hard to tell. 

And in that hazy state, your eyes had locked onto a figure that seemed to glow amidst the dim lights of the party. Reo Mikage, a name that resonated through campus like a melody, stood there, his presence magnetic and his smile dangerously alluring.

Without much thought, you approached the poseur table he was located at.

“Are you single?” you asked him the second you got close enough for him to hear. Fortunately, he wasn't surrounded by his usual crowd.

Now, what happened to ‘hello’? To ‘are you having fun?’ That question is too straightforward for a conversation starter, isn't it? 

“Yeah? Yes, I mean.” Reo replied, confusion evident in his tone.

“Okay good, listen.” Stepping closer, you caught him off guard, and he instinctively took a step back. His movement prompted a questioning look from you, tinged with a hint of concern because it was one step, yet he backed away for three. Little did you know, your proximity was affecting him more than the alcohol he'd consumed.

Undeterred and tequila-fueled, you continued. “I really don't want to drink those abominations in liquid form my friends dared me, so may you find it in your good heart to let me kiss the shit out of you so I’m saved.”

What the hell did he just hear? “Kiss the shit out of me…?”

“Yeah.” So, he heard you right. He’s not making it up. Good, he thinks.

“What do I get in return?”

“Lunch? My treat.” 

Did you just offer a multimillionaire heir a lunch and promise it's on you? At this point, you're not drunk — you're certifiably crazy.

“Hmm, sounds good. Alright, please do show me how the shit out of me can be kissed by you.”

In the face of his agreement, you rolled your eyes at his mocking tone. But there was no time for second-guessing; this was your moment.

Grasping the front of his shirt, you tugged him closer. You saw how his eyes widened at what you did before it broke out to a boyish grin. A breath passed, and then — the two of you collided.

In the electrified space between heartbeats, your lips found each other hungrily. His breath mingled with yours, a shared exchange of anticipation as your mouths moved in sync, exploring each other with an urgency that defied logic.

The taste of tequila still lingered, a faint reminder of the daring choice that had led you here. But it was the heat, the fervor, that consumed you both. Your bodies pressed together, the proximity sparking flames of need that danced through your veins.

His fingers found purchase at your waist, the touch igniting a trail of sensation that sent shivers down your spine. Your fingers were tangled in his hair, and a moan rose out of your throat as he drew your bottom lip between his teeth, a delicious tug that blurred the lines between who was kissing whom.

You pulled back from the kiss first, and a protest almost climbed Reo’s throat. But he knew better than to step in unwarranted, instead, he settled with savoring the image of your flushed state. Even in these neon blaring lights, Reo could discern your state with your heavy panting. Was it because of the alcohol? Or him? He hopes it’s the latter.

“That was… fuck. Thank your friends for the dare for me, yeah?”

And that’s how it all ended — with a kiss far from innocent.

Now here you are, nursing a splitting headache as you trudged across campus, textbooks clutched to your chest, trying to shake off the remnants of last night's debauchery. The taste of regret was heavy on your tongue—not just from the hangover, but from the events that led up to it.

In your slightly inebriated mind, the plan made sense. Kiss the hottest guy at the party, and you'd show your friends that you were up to the challenge. It was akin to hitting two birds with one stone: escaping the impending liquor onslaught and salvaging your pride. 

At the time, it sounded good – sounded like a winning strategy. But now? You want to bang your head against the wall for even thinking it made sense. And you’d do it if it weren’t for your phone buzzing in your pocket interrupting your self-loathing.

Last night for Reo was enchanting, to say the least. 

It was like a spark in the darkness, an unexpected surge of joy that he found himself smirking at the memory, reliving the sensation of your lips in his.

Last night might have been the spark, but it wasn't where it all began for Reo. 

Before you approached him at the party, he remembered you from freshman year. It was hard not to—especially when he recalled the exact moment. He perfectly remembers how you looked him dead in the eye and quipped,“Why waste your time on that sport if your aim is as off as a blindfolded archer? The goal's over there, genius. Not me.” after his supposed goal went astray and hit you in the back.

Well, he took that personally— word for word. And within a year, he had risen to become the best player on the team.

Now add that memory to the daring kiss you shared last night? There was no way Reo would be forgetting you anytime soon. He was now on a mission to make sure that you remembered him as vividly as he remembered you.

Good thing you owe him lunch, and an even better thing that he spotted you just now on a bench near the field he was on. He chuckled to himself at the coincidence, he wasn’t expecting to see you so soon. 

Reo, with his pragmatic and business-oriented mindset, was perhaps one of the last people on earth to put faith in notions like fate. But maybe he can make an exception to that philosophy if it’s you. 

Because right now, this whole thing felt like a mischievous wink from the cosmos, giving Reo a shot at something he had only dared to imagine. Wasting no more chances, he pulled out his phone.

[Today, 8:32 AM]

Is this Y/N?  This is Reo, by the way.

From his vantage point, he saw you reach for your phone immediately after he hit send. The widening of your eyes and the hint of surprise as you read his message didn't go unnoticed.

Cute. Peering down to his phone, he snorted with laughter at your response.

y/n: No. You’ve got the wrong number. [8:33 AM] Your friend confirmed it’s yours, though :P [8:33 AM] Also, I can see you typing. [8:34 AM]

Your eyes immediately scanned the whole field in search of the possible source of your college life’s impending doom. After a few seconds of looking with furrowed brows and a crinkled nose, there – you saw him, with his head slightly cocked to the side and his arms crossed over his chest, grinning at your display of reaction to his messages.

Your searching eyes transformed into bewilderment the instant he stood up, making his way toward you. Realizing that the two of you couldn’t be seen together under any circumstances to avoid igniting unnecessary gossip, your fingers danced over the screen of your phone, rapidly firing off messages that inundated his notifications.

y/n: what do you need are you trying to approach me stop right there stop walking!!!! everyone's looking i swear to god [8:37 AM]

Your frantic typing, however, seemed to make no impact. As if on a mission, Reo continued walking closer to you with the most annoyingly confident grin on his lips. His gaze was locked onto you, unwavering and undeterred.

Even from the distance that separates you two, you could make out what he was wearing. And you were damn sure, it was the sluttiest piece of clothing a man could wear.

The divine must really have its favorites, it seems. Because while you looked like hell had taken up residence on your head from last night’s festivities, he looked too sinful for a sunny morning in his compression shirt. 

No one should look that damn good at 8 AM—it's practically criminal and a slap in the face to regular college students like you.

As Reo closed the distance between you, you could practically feel the weight of all those curious eyes fixated on the scene. Were they looking at him? You? Or both? The thought alone made you want to sink into the ground and disappear.

“Hi.” 

Hi? You’re hyperventilating from the attention the two of you are getting and he quips a hi? 

“What do you need?” you hissed, trying to keep your voice steady amid the prying gazes of onlookers.

Reo's grin remained stubbornly intact, seemingly oblivious to the audience around you. “I’m here to collect a favor you owe me!” he declared with an enthusiasm that felt almost out of place in this surreal moment.

He can’t be seriously asking you to buy him lunch, right? What does he even eat? A5 Wagyu steak? There’s no way your student budget can afford that.

“I don’t remember owing you anything.”

“Really? I’ll remind you then, you offered to buy me lunch last night before you grabbed my collar and kissed m–”

“Finish that sentence, and lunch is not the only thing you’ll get from me.”

Your threat hung heavy in the air, your words loaded with a blend of annoyance and embarrassment that had settled on your cheeks.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” and yet, ever undeterred from your hostility, Reo's voice took on a smug, teasing tone that matched the twinkle in his eye.

This guy. “You're a bit annoying, don’t you think?”

“No, I don't think I am,” he countered, “And I also don't think that's how you should speak to someone who, and I quote, found it in their good heart to kiss you and save you from eight shots of tequila, though.”

Reo was on a mission, that much was clear. And quoting your exact words from last night seemed to be one of his tactics to ensure you remembered him and that kiss you shared. 

And lucky him, it looks like it’s working like a charm in which the telltale warmth in your cheeks revealed. Unfortunately for you, your simmering frustration combined with a throbbing headache could either launch you into a one-way ticket to expulsion or earn you a potential criminal record.

May the universe and all the saints grant you patience, because the overwhelming urge to wipe that damn grin off his face is slowly overtaking your senses.

You glanced at your watch, calculating whether you had enough time to wrap up your presentation before considering lunch. “Fine. Text me the location,” you conceded, your tone reluctantly agreeable. “I have a presentation to do first. I'll meet you there before noon.”

It might turn out to be a questionable financial decision to let him choose the lunch spot, but you were sticking to your word. You still owed him, after all.

“Sure. Good luck on your presentation. I’m sure you’ll devour the shit out of it.” 

His playful tone, quoting your own words again back at you, made your eyes roll in a mix of annoyance and flustered embarrassment.

Reo, on the other hand, seems like he’s having the time of his life with your reactions.

Someone can’t wait for lunch time, it seems. And clearly, that’s not you but a certain purple-haired.

If anyone were to observe Reo in this moment, they might easily mistake his fidgeting for the anxious prelude to a first Tinder meet up. Of course, that would be utterly absurd, considering he was simply awaiting someone's arrival, who happened to owe him a wholesome meal.

The little bell above the restaurant's entrance jingled, drawing Reo's attention like a magnet. 

His heart skipped a beat when he saw you walk in, much to his surprise. Seemingly fresh and put-together now, you appeared quite different from the disarrayed figure he had spotted on the field earlier. 

Your smile, which now adorned your face as you exchanged pleasantries with the hostess, seemed to hint that your presentation had gone well, and perhaps the remnants of last night’s headache were subsiding.

Casually dressed yet carrying an air of understated confidence, you navigated the room with ease. His eyes followed you as you moved, taking in the subtle sway of your hair, the way your lips curved into polite smiles for familiar faces. He observed this scene unfolding before him, almost as if he were watching a scene from one of those romcom movies.

When your gaze finally settled on him, Reo could feel the heat making its way to his neck that he hoped his collar was hiding well.

The moment you settled into your seat, you wasted no time in addressing the metaphorical elephant in the room. “I’m sorry I put you in that position last night,” you blurted out.

Conversation starters were not your strong suit, Reo noted with an inward chuckle. Last night's shameless question was understandable, given the influence of alcohol, but in the clear light of day, your choice of conversation openers left much to be desired.

“It’s fine,” he replied with a sidelong glance, his lips curling into a faint smile of reassurance. He raised his left hand to catch the waiter's attention, subtly signaling for the menu. “Glad it was me, actually,” he mumbled more to himself than to you, his own unfiltered thought taking him by surprise.

“What?”

“What?”

Before you could even attempt to untangle the verbal knot, the waiter arrived with the menus, saving Reo from any further explanations. He observed as the waiter acknowledged you, a smile exchanged between you two. It seemed you were a regular here, and he found himself intrigued by yet another layer of your personality.

“You know him?” Reo inquired, nodding toward the departing waiter.

“Oh, I'm a regular here. It's my favorite place,” you explained with a hint of fondness.

“What are the chances? It's mine too.” 

Your eyes narrowed in playful disbelief, seemingly not buying the idea of someone like Reo enjoying a meal at a diner like this. “You?”

You admit you were surprised when he texted you of this place being his choice of dining. You were totally gearing up for him to suggest some fancy French or Italian joint where you'd need to take out a loan just to cover the bill. After all, people like him should be dining on caviar and foie gras. But then he texted you this choice, and maybe he's more down-to-earth than you thought. Or maybe he just knows where the good food is. It's hard to believe either, though.

Challenged, Reo insisted, “Yes. Me.”

“Alright, what are you having then? I’m ordering their famous pesto pasta—surely you know what that is, right?” you teased, a playful smile tugging at your lips. 

“Of course, I do.” Reo was basically lying through his teeth, at this point. But he couldn’t back down from his claim. And what? Admit that it's his first time here and the only reason he chose this was because he often sees you eating here? Not a chance.

“Why don’t you order for us then?”

With no turning back, he quipped, “Sure thing,” before signaling for a server. He sensed your amused gaze on him, and a hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

“We’ll have two orders of your pesto pasta, please.”

“Uhm sir, we don’t serve pasta here.”

You let out a laugh, and Reo swears he could almost hear the birds chirping in the background.

Maybe a bit of embarrassment was a fair trade for that sound, he mused.

Lunch, for you, was not so bad and not quite the disaster you initially imagined.

Not until, out of nowhere, Reo brought up your embarrassing escapade from last night, “Was it because of that incident in freshman year that you approached me last night?”

“Freshman year?” you echoed, momentarily thrown off track. “Did we ever have a class together? Because I genuinely can't picture myself willingly signing up for economics or any finance-related course.”

“No, we didn't share any classes. And what's wrong with those courses? They're actually quite enjoyable.”

Yeah, if your idea of fun is spending hours deciphering graphs and balancing budgets. Enjoyable if you think that analyzing the stock market is the pinnacle of excitement.

“I don’t remember you from freshman year, though.” you admitted.

Reo's disbelief was palpable as he leaned back in his chair, a smug grin settling in. “You told me I suck at soccer a couple of years ago. Ring any bells? It was on the field.”

“I did fucking what now again?” You briefly questioned your past choices – or the lack of recollection thereof. Were you perpetually in a tipsy daze during your time at university? How could you miss every brash choice you made? Your brazen mouth could indeed get you into unforeseen trouble one day, that much is very clear.

“And here I was, thinking you kissed me on that dare as payback for me accidentally hitting you with a soccer ball.” Reo chuckled at your surprise, leaning back further.

“No,” you retorted, shaking your head slightly. “I did it because the dare was to kiss someone we found hot at the party.”

Oh. “So you think I’m hot?”

“My drunk self sure did.”

“Well, and what does your sober self think now?”

Clearly, this banter was a game both of you were more than willing to play. With a pointed gaze, you focused on Reo, a slow grin tugging at your lips. The effect on Reo was almost instantaneous—his throat cleared awkwardly, and his confident grin faltering.

“My sober self thinks my drunk self is absolutely right.” 

You infused the word ‘absolutely’ with a nonchalant drawl, noting the flush creeping up Reo’s cheeks. His composure seemed to waver, and he hastily reached for his drink, downing it within seconds. 

Satisfied that you managed to wipe his confident grin, you pressed on, “Are you blushing?”

“No,” Reo responded a bit too quickly, his voice a tad higher than usual. “It’s a bit hot in here.”

“Sure, whatever you say.” You chuckled at his flimsy excuse, your eyes catching the telltale shade of red tinting his ears and neck. Reo is easy to fluster as it is for him to do so, you noted. “Let’s get out of here, let me just pay.” 

Just as you were about to signal a waiter, Reo halted you with his words, “It’s done.”

“Done?”

“I gave them my card before you arrived.”

What the fuck. “But the favor…”

Reo's smirk reappeared, a gleam of triumph in those amethyst orbs. “Looks like you still owe me a date.”

“A lunch,” you corrected him, but Reo shrugged nonchalantly, a playful ‘same thing’ expression on his face.

“Sure, whatever you say,” he mimicked your tone, “Let me walk you to your next class.” He offered, rising from his seat as you did.

“Thank you, but absolutely no.”

“Why not?” 

Reo must be really oblivious to his fame, it seems. “Just because. Also, don’t you have practice?”

“I do, but ten more minutes with you sounds better.” 

You rolled your eyes at his attempt to charm you. “Are you slacking off, captain? Looks like my freshman self was right about your soccer skills after all.”

“I’m not slacking off, I just know my priorities.” and there it was again, that grin and that stare. Whether it was the tequila or just him, Reo really had a way of pulling you into his orbit.

Bashful, and at a loss for better retorts, you looked away. “Next time.”

“So there’s a next time, then?” he innocently asks, clearly fishing for another affirmation.

“Next time, I’m paying.” 

“Got that.” Reo mindlessly agreed. He’s just happy there’s a next time, honestly. “Let me walk you out, at least.”

Both of you left the restaurant, walking side by side in companionable silence. After a few moments, you decided to break the quietude that had settled between you.

“I guess we're parting ways here,” you remarked, your voice carrying a hint of finality.

Reo’s disappointment was evident, though he tried to mask it. “Sure. Thank you for the meal.”

A soft chuckle escaped your lips. “What are you thanking me for? You paid for it.”

“Let me rephrase it then, thank you for introducing me to this place. I’ve clearly been missing out,” he beams.

“You're welcome, Mr. Fine Dining.”

As you walked a few steps ahead of Reo, you turned your head to look back at him, seemingly remembering something to tell him. “Oh, by the way,” you start, a teasing smile making its way to your lips, “I’m glad it was you too.”

With that, you took one last glance at his starstruck expression before parting ways, leaving him with a lingering smile.

Maybe something good does come out of stupid college parties and dumb drinking games – in the form of someone with enchanting smiles and magnetic purple eyes, that is.

And now, for sure, with or without the tequila haze, there’s not a single chance you’re forgetting Reo Mikage anytime soon. 

note. he makes me ill ( i love him very much and this is purely self-indulgent because i need him like air).

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Imagine König fucking you while holding in a chokehold and pressing all his weight on your back. I can't stop thinking about this 😩

Chokehold

Warnings: 18+, Degradation, Name-Calling, Smut, Choking, Jealous König, Restraining/Pinning, Profanity, No Pronouns used for Reader Except 'You'.

"Stupid little thing," König spat, his teeth gritted and his anger seething and hot, hips battering yours as his front all but melted to your back. You grasped at his arm, a thick cobra about your throat, gasping for breath. König squeezed.

"Thinking you could get away with talking to Ghost like that–" He growled, pulling out all the way and slamming back in. You yelped, hands gripping, scratching König's arm. A clawing plea. Your lower half burned, bruised and most definitely destined to be sore for the next week. Their functionality would also be pulled into question. And all because you had to go and joke around with Ghost.

“Fucking whore – can’t keep your hands to yourself for one minute, can you,” König was breathing heavily, panting as he worked to keep you docile. His weight on top of you kept you pinned to the bed, tears glazing your eyes, making them glass. Doll-like.

And yet, despite your fragility, König treated you as if you were undeserving of it. Or he simply did not care for it.

His breath was almost smoke, steam, with how it scorched the back of your neck, where, just beneath your hairline, red bites, marks and teeth-filled kisses were pressed, branding you. König relented his crushing grip of your throat when your breathing grew shallow. He gave you an inch, perhaps two, to breathe, releasing you slowly, like a pressure valve.

And as you wheezed, he knocked the air out of you again. And again. And again.

His rhythm was less of music and more so of the ocean, unruly and all-consuming. The fog had settled over your mind long ago, and only König’s voice could guide you through it – through the euphoria he filled you with and stole from you with the same hand.

His unoccupied arm – hand – unfurled from the blankets and slid amongst their silkentine desert. It slithered between you and the bed, clutched at your stomach where, pressed flat against your skin, he felt himself. Tearing you apart from the inside, decemating you, shunting you closer to the headboard and keeping you welded to him with his sheer mass alone, he could feel the pace and ferocity with which he moved with the imprint of his cock against his palm.

He glowered, his body tightening, locking up.

“Mine,” he promised, pushing his hand to your stomach, making you shriek, your back arch into him. You were close now. He could tell. Your whimpers broke, voice strangling as your breath began to draw thin again.

And, just as he had done many times that night, he withdrew, letting your body slam to the bed as he sat above you, his looming figure a shadow of a man. You could barely register the cold air hitting you before König was on top of you, his arms trees beside your head, an infinite forest. And on his lips, behind that burning smile, lay the words you’d been dreading to hear.

“Oh, we’re not finished, Love.” The drawl in his voice slapped you, left you stricken. Lowering himself to your level, his chest to yours, noses almost touching, he grinned. Smirked.

“Not until I say so.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[granolawriting]

A change in fate ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

pairing: no breakout!Joel x fem reader

Summary: Your toxic ex kicks you out of your place without another word. Only hiring a mover to get your stuff somewhere else. And when Joel finds you in a state of disarray, and stays indifferent, you butt heads until it comes to a head when your paths cross again after that night. That time, much more complicated.

Content warning: age gap, you're 21 and Joel is mid 30s to early 40s. Enemies to lovers.

word count: 4k

A/N: this is the first of a two-part series inspired by an old movie I grew up with. If you can recognize it, I'll like, give you a really big treat. no nsfw this chapter, but the next one will. And as always, let me know if you like my work or if you have any suggestions for anything else I could write :)

Part 2 out now!!: to make you forget

“NO. No. No no no no no no no NO!!!” 

Your fist hits solid wood once more. Every slam that pounds upon its impenetrable front leaves a mark on your hand in the shape of bruises and soreness-- you try the door once more. It's locked, as it had been the last ten times you attempted to open it. Desperation laced in the fruitless fervor that played its sound of metal clanking on metal as the knob refused to turn. 

The thump on the ground follows a fall of your knees. Defeated, hopeless, in a dress that isn't even yours. Tears stream from your face in such passion you can't even feel them anymore as more of you is wet than it is dry. You imagine you look a mess, hair disheveled as you held it as you screamed at him-- makeup once beautiful and elegant streams down and across your face in the motion your hands chose to wipe away your tears. 

A screeching of tires followed by the shutting of a door is what knocks you out of this pathetic display. A man walks over to you and begins to pick up the boxes right beside you, carrying them to the back of his truck that has the title “MOVERS” painted on its side. You clamor to your feet, disorientation doesn't help the heels strapped to your feet as you chase after him;

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going with those? Who the hell are you?”

Rancor coats your tongue as your anger spits out onto him, He stands in the middle of an empty parking lot with only the light emanating from houses and lamps decorating the street are you able to take him in. 

He was tall, perhaps 6ft, an older man. Salt and pepper hair covered just above his forehead and a stern face was complimented by equally gruff facial hair of similar color, and a frown that seemed natural for him. He wore an old jacket-- probably made in the same year you were born with plaid linings on its inside to support a Carhartt branded outside. All the clothes upon his body seemed worn, from the stained jeans and a belt fitted so many times it might as well have been made for the exact curve of his body, to the heavy worker's boots with every scratch telling a story beyond your years. He looks at you. Up and down his eyes register curiously the woman that stood before him. He scoffs, and with a low Texan drawl he replies in kind; 

“Well princess, looks here like someone was kind enough to get yourself a mover for all them boxes outside the house. ‘Supose you know where i'm to drop em off?” 

“They can stay right here.” 

It comes out of you not in a literal sense, but you guess a plea of desperation. You can't imagine that this is actually happening. You can't just leave. After all the years you spent with him, all the hours you poured into his care and the best he can do is call up some old guy to take your shit somewhere else? 

“Now you know I can't do that. I ain't come all the way down here just for’ nothin. Now, I was hired to move, least you can let me do is my job.” 

His palms outstretched to you as he finishes putting the first box in the back of his truck, looking to you with little care for what you’re properly going through, moreso just a plea to let him go home sometime before 1 in the morning. 

your breath grows uneven again, you feel something build up in you again as you just refuse to accept this. Turning your back to him, you storm over to another box untouched by him and kick it, screaming and crying and truly just making a mess of yourself as you collapse once again on the curb of the sidewalk. Folding your arms across your knees, and with a head buried deep in your chest you sit there for a moment as you listen to the crunch of his boots against the loose gravel along the pavement trail back and forth past you as each box is stored into the vehicle. 

“Still haven't given me an address. Or were ya’ thinkin' of just sitting here and lettin' me take yer’ things?” 

Irritation follows his tone as he becomes increasingly impatient about your behavior. 

“I don't have anywhere to go.” 

“Surely you got someplace. Now get a move on, I'm bout damn tired of all this.” 

He drags you up by your upper arms, feeling his calloused hands hold onto the smoothness of your body as he lifts you to your feet. Shocked though, you push him away from you in haste;

“I can get up by myself. Thank you very much.”

You dust yourself off for just a moment before continuing, he looks at you with impatience.

“And I need a ride.” 

He stammers a bit as he begins to speak, 

“A- fucking,? Damn. alright then. Just get the hell on alright? Sure you wouldn't want em’ having to pay me extra.” 

He walks back to his truck as you follow, The two footsteps upon the concrete road are all that can be heard in the neighborhood as your pain slowly wells into your chest, and the outbursts cease. 

------------------------------------

“Now, listen here. We've been drivin' for damn near an hour now, and ain't nothing come of it. Where the hell am I takin you? Or I'm about to leave ya on the side of the damn road. I've got a kid at home.” 

“Just take me to the other side of town.”

“Are you fuckin kidding me? Now, I don't know what you've got goin on and I truly, don't want to. But you're real damn selfish ya know that? Makin me drive all over town like this like I'm some goddamn taxi. This place best got some money to pay me for.” 

His voice is deep, gruff, and when laced with the anger of a despondent woman who seems as if she has all the time in the world he's not keen to hold back judgment anymore. His hand grips the steering wheel firmly and doesn't look at you for a moment as he speaks to you. 

You're taken aback, to say the least. After the pain you've felt, the torment you've faced the only thing to greet you is the unwanted mouth of some old man who doesn't know what he's talking about.

“I'm selfish? You don't know the night I've had. How can you call me selfish? You were hired for a reason so why don't you just do your fucking job okay? As long as you’re getting paid it shouldn't matter a damn to you.” 

You shrug your shoulders and cross your arms in his passenger seat, watching him with disdain as he grips the wheel and drives relatively carelessly through the empty streets just to get you out. 

After a few minutes more, and by a few you mean around 30, you find yourself in front of a home you’d never think to see again truthfully. As you take in the sight of it, a simple house facing an otherwise unimpactful street, but you held memories of all your years within the confines of these blocks. You were home, after so many years away. 

“Get out.” 

He says bluntly. The clock shines a bright 1:47 on its dash, signifying that you definitely didn't meet his “before 1” pleas. But damn, could he have been any nicer about it? 

You watch as he hops out of the car himself, to the sound of a hard opening of the back that held all your belongings. And as you made your way ever so slowly out of his truck, trying to not fall as the step was coated in the darkness of the night that was no longer politely illuminated by street lights. As you made your way to the concrete below you, rounding his truck was he almost done putting your stuff back out, only on a different curb this time. And without a second to spare, he gets back into his truck, and leaves. Not a word said to you, not even an exchange.

What an asshole. 

-------------------------------------------

“So you’re telling me, that the man you were with for how many years, kicked you out for what?” 

The voice of your childhood friend rang once more through the old walls of the house, in the kitchen where you two sat. this was her family home, one that she now inherited, and one that after many years of silence on your part, she gladly opened up to you as well. 

“We were together almost 3 years. And he just, found another girl I guess. But she was in my closet, filled with her clothes. It's as if he’d moved me out overnight. He didn't have a word to say to me, it's like I never even mattered to him. But I've told you this time and time again, what more can I even do at this point?” 

She repositions herself with her legs crossing over one another as she looks for a response, taking a sip of coffee before having it dawn on her. 

“Today. 3 pm. Uncles holding a barbeque. You remember my uncle right? Everyone will be there. Maybe we could find you a good little rebound to bring you down to earth.” 

“Are you- a rebound? Seriously? Is that all you can think of right now?” 

“Listen. The only thing you can do with a broken heart is fix it. And that doesn't happen in a day. Least you can do is get something tasty to chase the pain with. Like hot old guys. You’re only 21! This is the prime time to do whatever you want.” 

You think for a second. Letting this wash over you as you try and figure out the next thing to do. Do you really doll yourself up after the most traumatic evening of your life is not even 24 hours in your past, just to eye all of your friends older relatives, and family friends that you’ve been ogling at since you were 16? 

I mean fuck it, what else are you going to do. 

Following your friend up the stairs, she lets out an excited giggle at the prospect of having you back after so many years. There's so many things to tell, different people to see, and subsequently laugh at, but the best of all her skills with a brush have gotten much better since the last time she helped you look good. Much better, apparently for as you looked at yourself in the mirror you could barely recognize the woman looking back at you-- let alone any trace of the girl sat in a torn dress the night before screaming outside her ex’s house. 

You put on a pretty yellow dress, adorned with flowers It's hemmed all properly frilled to some level, and the flow of the skirt portion barely getting over your back end does the top also treat you well; a low neck cup to shape your chest perfectly as the daintiness of your outfit, paired with little yellow heels, made you look properly irresistible. 

-----------------------------------

“Guess whos backkk!!!”

The excited shrills of your friend beside you make everyone who'd arrived at the party thus far to crane their heads back to look, all of which subsequently smiled with shock as they looked upon you. None of them had seen you since you were 17, about 18 years old. That's when you left, the moment you could. Looking back you missed all of this so much, the community, the story told in every face that looked upon you. But all is lost now and the most you can do is make the best out of the time you have right now-- and as it stands you’re at the center of it all. 

They approach you by the droves, asking every question they can that have undoubtedly had rumored answers to in your absence; detailing from where you've been, what you’re doing, where you go to school, where you work, and most hurtful-- how your ex was doing. You briefly told them all that you and him had since parted, and that you were just getting back on track, spending some time at your friend's house in the meantime. They all looked upon you in sympathy, but as more people entered the party the more they dispersed to greet other guests. 

“Oh my god, is that who I think it is?” 

A low, familiar tone enters the backyard where you stand, and turning around to face you is your friend's father. Who, for most of your life was like a father to you as well. He opens his arms and you follow suit, embracing him in what feels like a much-needed hug, before setting you down again to continue talking to you. 

“Oh, honey if, if I'd known you were coming I'd have brought you something. How long has it been since I last saw you? God, you seem so grown up now. It's like I barely even know you.” 

His head moves to look behind him for a second, and soon he ushers someone forward to join in the conversation. 

“Ah, there's something I'd love for you to meet. This is a good friend of mine, Joel. I haven't had him around any of these much, he just moved back here from Texas a couple weeks back. But he's someone I've known my whole life. Kinda like you and my daughter in a way!” 

Though as the man who emerged behind him reared his head, you couldn't believe your eyes. It was him, of course, it was him. That asshole that drove you home like you were the greatest burden he's ever had to carry. 

“Yer fuckin kidding me.” 

He looks at you in shock. Nothing more. However, you see that to his side is a young girl, no older than 12 who seems to be in awe over you. Her hair was tucked into each side of her face to illuminate it in a crown of curls that came to her shoulder and stretched all the way to her ears in volume. She wore a small shark tooth necklace, and some form of singer on her shirt that you didn't recognize.

He-, Joel, looks down at her; 

“Sarah how bout you go say hi to your friends for me. I'm gonna be busy a moment” 

She runs off, and your friend's dad begins to speak again. 

“Do you, know each other from somewhere? I can't imagine you do.” 

“She's that insane little girl I told you ‘bout. The one kickin n’ screaming all over the place. Reason why Sarah hadta’ stay the night at your place.” 

“The insane little girl?” 

You chime in.

“There's no way- Joel, you’ve probably got the wrong girl” 

“No, he has the right one.” 

You stare directly at him, sending daggers into each of the brown eyes that look back at you. 

“He kicked me out of his car at almost 2 in the morning without a single word. Isn't that right?” 

Though no matter how piercing your gaze it fails to impact him as it should, for with equal level tone he snipes back; 

“Yep, after makin me drive all the way cross’ town just cause she wanted to. Knowin I got someone waitin’ for me. Clearly, something she don't understand all too much anymore.” 

That was unnecessary. 

Something brews inside of you as you glance upon his finger void of a ring, even a tan that would indicate its recent removal. Though as the only sane-minded person seemingly left to observe watches your eyes as you make such a connection, he swiftly puts an end to it. 

“Now, Joel. you know how young girls are they-” 

“I'm not that young.” 

“Alright well, they. Are just passionate, that's all. She was with him for how many was it now? Three years? Left the moment she turned of age. Clearly she just doesn't know how a mans supposed to be. This is all she really knows.” 

This is all she really knows.

That's all that rang through your head as the conversation died and Joel exchanged brief apology. That in a way, he was all you really knew. And now you’re back home, and you don't know what to do with yourself, really. You don't know what you like, or what you don't like. It was all just, him. For so long. You vowed to yourself that day that, no matter what went on you would say yes to anything. To embrace kind of, anything that came your way as some divine fate, or at the very least a fun experience. 

As the night droned on, and you fielded the barrage of squeals, hugs from people you don't remember, and a bit more liquor you could've accounted for, the night came to a slow end. Feeling eyes on you constantly was one thing, but feeling the eyes on the man with who’d you'd had a comfortable reunion was even worse in a way. Although, as you looked upon him in your own moments you saw in him something unveiled after the veil of hatred and sorrow fell off of you. Something, interesting about him. Attractive. Obviously nothing you were going to personally indulge in, but an interesting assertion nonetheless. He stood in the light of the evening, fairy lights covering the backyard as it illuminated his now more time-appropriate outfit; one of marginally better jeans and a plaid shirt, rolled to his elbows to reveal what were impressive forearms, and with the proper fit of his shirt, showed an impressive physique for a single dad.

… … …

 Thats stupid. Anyways, the night drew to a close and as you saw your friend too wrapped up in the conversation of someone relatively older than her, you decided to take the few blocks walk home, especially since you didn't have a car anymore either. Though as you exit the front door to travel down the sidewalk you hear a familiar accent call out to you after only a few feet have been made distance between you and the doorframe; 

“Ya’ walking home this late at night?” 

“Yeah, I am. Not like I've got a car do I?” 

You turn your body to look at him, but only after you've finished your sentence, using the body language of someone unequipped for any more stupid banter to cue him into leaving you alone. 

“How’s about I drive you home. Least I can do after what I’d said today. It wasent quite my place.” 

His voice has an unfamiliar tune of sympathy as he lets out that apology of sorts, so you engage. Though, begrudgingly. 

“Don’t you have a daughter to take care of? That seemed what got you so mad before.” 

He sighs a little, you notice you've hit a bit of a nerve. 

“Well, she’ll be stayin' at a friend's place for a few days, really hit it off. Got nothin but time on my hands now.” 

“Well in that case I'm not gonna say no to a free ride. Obviously.” 

You smile a bit, a first with him. Other than ones of sarcasm, every interaction you've had with him thus far hasn't been all that pleasant. And he smiles back. And, as the light of the moon shines down upon his weathered face, the smirk on his makes your smile grow even more. 

Hopping into his car once more, you take the road to your place with a little more enjoyment than how it transpired the night before. This time, the sound of his music accompanied by a hum through his car is what played to fill the silence of the atmosphere. Something old, country, of course. You’d never heard it, and it sounded well beyond even his years. But despite that, there was a comforting air that was shared in the car-- cool air blowing in from the windows rolled down, watching as his arm held on to the side of the car door from the open window, tapping its side in unison to the beat. 

“This here is it right?” 

Pulling up to your shared home you felt almost a little reluctant to respond with a yes. Though when you do, he steps out of the car as you do as well. You watch as he awaits your circle to the front where he stood, as a means to walk with you to the front of your door. Looking at him curiously as you reach the entrance, he gives response to your motions, though you watch as his fingers fiddle with one another ever so slightly as he poses such a response;

“It ain’t right leaving a lady to walk all by herself after dropping her off. And, I just wanted to say again that it ain't my place makin assumptions about you like that. Wanted to know if I could make it up to ya’. Kinda seems like lifes dealt you a bad hand right now, thought to offer you a drink over it.” 

A drink? 

You thought about that for a second. The man that kicked you out of his car, literally less than 24 hours ago, is now offering to take you out for a drink. Well, it was as a means for apology. So that's something. Nothing more to it, it's a Southern thing. They drink to anything. Especially sorrow. 

“I think I’ll have to take you up on that. You’ll know where I’ll be.” 

You reply with a smile that grows just large enough to show your teeth. He gazed at you for a bit longer, as his eyes grew brighter at the prospect of an invitation accepted. He was a lot less harsh than meets the eye, it seemed. But you still weren't properly convinced. And, there was still much a mystery about him that although intimidated you, enticed you even more. You cock your hip to the side of the doorframe, leaning up against it as he spoke to you as a means to accentuate your figure just a bit as he looked at you. Just to see what would happen. 

“Oh, alright then. 7 alright with you? I’ll come pick you up course’.” 

“Seven’s more than alright with me. I'll see you then, Joel.” 

As you bid farewell to him, you watched as his eyes tracked your movements as you did so. The way your hips have shifted place, the tone at which your voice shifted ever so slightly. He took in your gaze, a small cat eye that sharpened your eyes paired with the sly smile of a woman your age was enough to catch his stare for a moments longer than it should've. You relished in that. 

He leaves you off with a nod and a smile, though you take the time that he walks back to his truck as a means to take in all that he was without interruption. He was handsome, to say the least. There was something to be said about a man with southern hospitality and an ass made from manual labor that reached deeper into a realm of attraction that was often untapped by the men of your age range. And you enjoyed greatly that you’d discovered such a thing. 

Tomorrow, 7pm, Joel. 

[devils-dares]

Man's World

summary: a tight championship race, a relationship situationship enemies with benefits that can't take place anywhere but behind the scenes, two drivers pitted against one another. who will prevail?

pairing: f1 driver x f1 driver!fem!reader (written with lewis hamilton in mind, but contains no identifying traits for any driver)

warnings: smut MDNI, verbal fights, driving, strong language, toxic masculinity, women being talked about negatively (in a man's world), being pathetic

wordcount: 5005

a/n: i have been working on this since august. this fic has gone through many phases of life with me, and i have finally finished it. i truly hope you enjoy.

-----

Good God, what had you gotten yourself into? It wasn’t supposed to be anything, if anything you two were bitter rivals to the death. Saying his name was like licking a battery, leaving a coppery acidic taste in your mouth.

So why did you wake in his bed? He, his body shining in the early morning sun, was making a plate from what you imagined was room service breakfast. His sheets, they smell like him, and the memories from last night and nights past come flooding into your head again.

He’s laying it on thick, smiling at you when he sees you sitting up in bed.

“You okay?” He says, the sweetest voice spilling from his lips. You hum, the ache between your thighs and the soreness in your hips delectably painful. He hands you a plate.

Your head spins from the irony of it all. Enemies to lovers, you’d said the night before as a joke. And what did he say in response?

“Lovers don’t fuck each other like this.”

It was true, the bruises on your body spoke wretched stories when they darkened over days, but sung beautifully while you moaned out his name underneath him as he pressed on them. He fucked as hard as he fought on track, the two of you trading first and second place back and forth every race. It’d become a game, riling each other up all week long just to end up on the podium next to each other and the same bed later on. It was a joke around the paddock that the two of you had tension and needed to “sort it out”.

All things had to end eventually, right? It bothered you when his alleged girlfriend was at Silverstone. He’d just spent the night prior making sure you couldn’t talk while his head was between your legs and now Thursday brings rumors of him walking the paddock with a lady friend.

She was beautiful, and that pissed you off.

He came to your room Sunday night after the race, a knock you two have come to create inadvertently. You didn’t bother to open the door, instead opting to lean against it.

“Open the door,” he said, “someone could see. Open the fucking door.” He’s agitated, good, you think. He led the race by a few seconds, but his cockiness came through like always, leading to an ill-timed spin and you taking the win from him. You’re winning the championship by just over ten points, and he’s had a slew of what could be considered amazing races, but losses in his book because he’s a place behind you. He knocks and knocks until you’re sure his fingers go raw, and you wipe a stray tear before opening the door to toxicity personified. He pushes past you to get in and slams the door shut. You sigh and rub your forehead before he pushes you up against the door.

“When I say open the door, open the fucking door, got it?”

“I’m not going to listen to you.�� You challenge him, and he puffs his chest out, showing off just how much bigger he is than you.

“You’ve already tried being a brat, remember what that got you?” A night full of edging and no release, that’s exactly what that got you. Your body shudders at the memory.

“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought.” He laughs.

“Fuck you!” You try to shove him but he barely moves an inch, instead grabbing your wrists and pushing them back against the door.

“What’s got you in such a mood? Back to back races left you a little sex-starved?” He tuts. “I thought I taught you better than that.”

“Who was that girl you were walking around with?” You ask, tears brimming at your waterline in anger.

“You’re jealous! Do you know how pathetic that is? What gives you a right to know, being my whore in private?” Your face turns away from his, but he pulls your hands up to hold with one of his, and he turns your chin towards him with his free hand. He sees how red you are, face burning with embarrassment.

“She’s an obligation. Management, you know.”

“So you’re not-”

“No. I wouldn’t be here if I was. She’s in the room across the hall from me.”

“Oh.”

“Oh? You don’t own me, you shouldn’t be obligated to know who she is.”

“Yet you told me.” He drops his hands.

“You know, if I’m not going to get what I want from you tonight, maybe I should go to her. She seemed very eager to get to know me when we got together for this.”

“Wait, no,” you say, sighing at the words you’re about to say, “just stay here with me, you’ll get what you want.” You’re embarrassed, face turning red. He smiles, and the bared teeth spell out danger for you.

“That’s what I wanted to hear from you.”

He leaves at two in the morning. You know because you lay awake all night, listening to him breathe. The ache between your legs was no longer pleasant or welcome, and you were tired of giving in to him. He gathers his clothes, does a half-assed job at pulling the covers back over your body, and doesn’t even bother to close the door quietly, instead opting to come near to slamming it.

You wish he could just break your heart, leave you to sulking by yourself, but he seems to have that same, sick attachment that you have to him. He’s bad for you, and the both of you would be sick in the head if you had any fantasy of this becoming a real thing. He’s not worried about losing his job if this gets discovered, his name is more than enough to keep the lights on and the paychecks running. You, on the other hand, were not well liked throughout the paddock apart from the drivers. You were a controversial topic, people either hated you or were your fiercest defenders.

You turn over and check the clock, 2:46, it reads. You sigh, squeezing a pillow over your head. This needs to end, for both the betterment of you and him.

—--

That ideal comes crashing down in Qatar, literally. The two of you collide, taking each other out of the race. It was his fault entirely, and that was reflected with the addition of two penalty points to his super license. Unfortunately, the two of you had to enter the media pen at the same time, and the daggers of death he sent your way were not easy to miss.

You were wound up, he hadn’t come into your room since Zandvoort when he’d beaten you by quite a close margin, just a touch over half a second. He hadn’t even spared you a word, driver’s meetings be damned. You were left to hang high and dry.

It wasn’t for lack of trying, though. Almost every stop you had, and weekends in between, you spent time at the clubs, attracting men to bring back to your place, but none of them scratched the itch that he left. You barely even finished with half of them. He was obnoxious, insufferable, yet you found yourself in the bathroom of another hotel room fixing up your hair to go knock on his door.

You looked at yourself. You were attractive, sexy, but it made you feel dirty that you dressed up all for him. Suddenly, the lace in your lingerie felt itchy, cutting into your skin. The silk felt like it was actively pilling against you, and the tendrils of your hair wouldn’t stop sticking to the lipstick that just so happened to be his favorite shade on you.

You had to get your independence back from a man who knew he had it and just didn’t care. You didn’t go.

That didn’t stop you from opening the door when he knocked a few minutes later, though. He smiled when he saw your attire, you didn’t bother to cover up. At least you didn’t fall into the trap of knocking on his door, small victories.

He stayed the night this time, just like the first few times. He actually cared back then, and it feels like that today, with his hand in your hair holding your head to his chest. You woke to his soft breathing, he’s still asleep, and that gives you the perfect opportunity to leave him like he left you.

You throw all of your clothes in your suitcase haphazardly, and drag out the luggage to the hallway to zip it up, in fear that he might wake and try to talk or squeeze another round out of you.

You two ran into each other a weekend later at an event in Monaco.

“You left.” He says.

“What did you say?”

“You left a week ago in Qatar. You weren’t there when I woke up.”

“Did you expect me to be?”

“Considering how-”

“If that sentence ends in some grade school jab against me I’m going to hurt you. You just lost a good thing.” He put his hands up in mock defeat.

“I didn’t know how sensitive you were going to be about this whole thing.”

“And if you knew?”

“I would’ve found someone else to fuck.”

—--

The Las Vegas Grand Prix, if you could’ve skipped it you would’ve. Inaugural grand prix in Sin City, your hands were already shaking on the way over here. He must’ve gotten the idea after Qatar, because absolutely no effort was given in him talking to you other than what was necessary, which seemed like a lot, given every single interview question was framed towards yours and his friendship. Both of you answered the same, there was no friendship beyond what was required in a purely professional setting, and the two of you were excited to put the championship race behind you once one of you was crowned.

Mathematically, there were about six drivers still in the championship race, the thorn in your sides that kept the two of you from being in a truly isolated battle, but realistically it’d come down to the two of you. That idea was currently being drilled into you from your team. Keep a clean race and good pace. Every single scenario was being run through during this meeting, and you only participated when necessary, which wasn’t smart, considering this would be your first time racing this track. You couldn’t help it, your mind was wrapped up in a twisted way, your situationship taking over your mind like a sick grade school crush.

I wonder if I’m on his mind as much as he is on mine. Does he think about me often? Does he think about what happened? About why I left the way I did in Qatar?

Your name was being called and your teammate knocked your leg with his knee. You looked at him, a thankful look in your eyes as you answered a question on strategy.

The start of this race weekend sucked. Practice 1, you’d picked up a puncture from an extra bit of carbon fiber on the track. Practice 2 brought mechanical failures, components overheating from the temperature of the track. Your confidence was shot seeing him at the top of the leaderboard in the sessions leading up to qualifying. And when qualifying came, your bad luck stuck around. You felt a power cut in your last flying lap of Q3, resulting in a measly P6 where your teammate qualified P2 and he got pole position.

With the team breaking curfew to put you in a driveable car for the next day, you were shaken up to say the least. You were in the car, the team doing their last minute checks and holding tire blankets and coolers to the car. The track was lit up beautifully in an elegance that only the night could hold.

Five cars in front of you. Five to pass and then hold the position. That’s all you had to do to secure a good lead into the final race. The clock clicked into position, the track cleared. You took the formation lap to get locked in, butterflies fluttering in your chest when the red lights started stacking.

The timing was perfect. You had an amazing start, picking off two positions into turn one. The start was great, but not much else was. You gained another position about halfway through the race, and a botched pit from another team allowed you to gain second up until an aggressive move from another driver caused damage and relegated you to P3.

But everything about his race was aces. Perfect pit, minimal tyre degradation, he was flying. You would’ve taken him out yourself, he was pissing you off that much. Yet again, you felt a power cut in the straight, and that caused you to lose fastest lap to him. Luckily your teammate was in a position to steal it back, but that was one less point for you in a championship battle for the ages.

You stood on the podium next to him, proud bastard, you thought. He walked past you, a glint in his eyes that was unmistakably lust, but could’ve only been seen as a rivalry spark by anyone else. He took his spot on the podium, and when it came time to spray, he was sure to aim only for you, seemingly rubbing in his victory.

He didn’t knock that night, or the night after that. You waited up for him, willing to bring him inside, but he never came. You couldn’t bring yourself to knock on his door either, saving yourself from the embarrassment of him not answering. You didn’t go clubbing, you couldn’t. If you saw him out with another woman, having the time of his life… you shook your head. It wasn’t worthwhile to think of him like that.

You flew home. Wasting tears in Vegas would do nothing to prepare you for the last race. The only one that really mattered, the championship decider.

You put in the hours at the facility, spending nights there because you didn’t want to go home. You’d sleep in your office, the only place he hadn’t tarnished with his presence. The team was concerned about you, but they still had two cars and two drivers to get ready for the finale.

I wonder if I’m on his mind as much as he is on mine.

If you had to go to one more team related event, you were going to cry. You were squeezed into formal wear and airbrushed to the gods the days leading up to Abu Dhabi. You shook hands with sponsors and promised results over the weekend. You were fucking exhausted.

It didn’t help that he looked amazing every time you saw him, which was often considering you stayed at the same hotel, and he was everywhere you were. Whether you were arriving and he was already sat in the breakfast lounge, or you were with a friend and his gaze lingered just a bit too long on your smiling figure, he was fucking everywhere.

Finally, a moment of reprieve, you thought as you entered the hotel. You were able to sneak past the fans, and took your hood off as soon as you entered, the lobby serene in the middle of the night.

You punched the button to call the elevator, and once you got in you pressed the button for the rooftop terrace, leaning against the back wall. Just before the doors closed, however, a hand jutted between the doors. A few people darted in from different teams, immediately making the cart feel small, and someone came to stand next to you, their body pressed up against the side of yours, pushing you against the wall. You knew that cologne, and dared to peek up.

It was him.

You cursed him in every language you knew. He stayed pressed up against you like that even as staff began to filter out. Soon enough, it was just the two of you, and he seemed like he was heading to the roof with you. As if every holy body hated you at that moment, there was no one else on the terrace when you two got there. You rushed to the edge, taking in a breath with your arms on the railing.

“Been a while since it was just the two of us, hasn’t it?” The man had to be immune to taking hints. You didn’t answer.

“Are you just planning on ignoring me for as long as possible?” Ignored again.

“I just hope you’re doing okay, y’know.”

“Don’t do that thing where you pretend to care just to get into my pants, it’s not going to work.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” You turned around to face him, a look of disbelief on your face.

“I swear.” He says. You don’t answer.

“What we were doing, it was fun, it is fun, but I’m not losing you over it.”

“Look who’s ready to be the bigger person,” you say sarcastically, “we weren’t friends, you’re not losing anything.” He rubs his forehead.

“Don’t you get tired of all of this?”

“I tire of you.”

“Ouch.” Silence falls on the conversation.

“We’re rivals,” you say after a bit, “we were never meant to be close.”

“So it’s like that.”

“It always was.” The two of you lock eyes, both unwilling to break first. You’ve effectively shut down the conversation, but your heart still aches to hear his voice, his hands on your skin, anything.

“For your sake, I hope you win on Sunday.” He starts to walk away, towards the elevators.

“Why the sudden attitude change?” You blurt out.

“Maybe I realized I lost a good thing.” He turns back to you as he says it.

“You…” You try to start. He steps closer to you, looking at your hands as if he was contemplating holding them. He huffs, deciding on grabbing them and holding them close to his chest.

“You are far more important to me than you realize.” And just like that, he’s got you trapped again. He leans down, letting go of one hand to cup your chin, tilting your head up to kiss you. You curse yourself for feeling a connection to him, even still. HIs hands fall to your hips, squeezing them.

“We shouldn’t… too out in the open up here.” You say.

“My room?”

“We have practice tomorrow.”

“Okay. Whatever you say.” He starts to turn away.

“Just a little bit of time together won’t hurt, right?” You say. He smiles at you.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He takes your hand, leading you back to the elevator, clicking his floor number.

As it turns out, spending a night with your ex-enemy with benefits does hurt. Your phone was buzzing off the nightstand with your manager asking you where you were. You groaned, rubbing your eyes as you reached over.

“Fuck!” You yell, waking him up with your voice.

“What? What is it?”

“I’m going to be massively late, I have to go.” You scramble to find your clothes, scattered across the floor.

“I’m not going for another hour and a half, you can’t be that late.”

“I also can’t be seen with you, do you know how bad that would be for both of our reputations? If someone were to catch me leaving your room and going back to mine… I knew this was a bad idea!”

“Don’t overreact, we’ll figure this out.”

“There is no figuring this out, I’m going to get caught on the way to my room in my clothes from the night prior, which, may I remind you, I was photographed in. That is going to ruin me publically, who, may I remind you again, already hate me.”

“I’m sorry.” He says.

You get dressed quickly and sneak out, getting to your room with almost no eyes on you.

—--

Friday brings a better showing for you and your team than Las Vegas did, topping both free practices by two-tenths and one-tenth respectively. Everyone was happy about your performance, and you were excited to see yourself on the top of the timing sheets again.

Saturday brought the same results, topping another free practice. It was a bit touch-and-go at qualifying, having to rush across the line with only a few seconds remaining to get your last flying lap, but that was just enough time to push you over him.

Sunday. The day you were simultaneously dreading and looking forward to. Between the two of you, winner takes all.

You sat in your car in the pole box. You glance to the side and catch a glimpse of him, he’s nodding his head to something the mechanics are saying. You sigh. Your mechanics float around your car, fiddling around for anything last second. The coolers blow on you as well as the car, the temperature of Abu Dhabi was nothing to trifle with.

You take a deep breath, feeling secure and quiet in your helmet. You play out the track in your mind, feeling every twist and turn in your body before you drive. Your eyes are closed, but your mind is far from relaxed.

During the formation lap, you become acutely aware of just how much is riding on this race. Not only your reputation, but your opportunities for the next season, and just how much power you can have with negotiations as it was your contract year. You shake your head. No time to think about that if you haven’t even accomplished the first step, winning this race.

You roll into your box, watching in your side mirror as the last of the drivers do so and then your eyes flick up to watch the lights. All you had to do was get the start.

Your timing couldn’t have been better. You were gone by the time you reached the first corner. He’d gotten a good start, but nothing compared to yours. All you had to do was manage the race.

The two of you quickly realized you were both pulling away from the competition, and he had much more grip in the corners, cutting at your lead. Soon enough, you were called in to box.

Time ticked away as you rolled into your pit box. The mechanics lifted the car, but one of the tyres wouldn’t come loose. Your internal timer was screaming at you. You see him enter the box and leave before you get all tyres on, and by the time you exit, he’s got a second and a half on you. You curse out your engineer after learning the pitstop took six seconds.

The race was on, and with him just out of DRS, you had a lot of time to make up. The race was slipping out of your grasp, and you thought of every wrong decision that put you in this position. Did you not slim down enough? Was there an extra gram or two of something on the car? You huff, shaking your head clear of the thoughts. There was no time to think like that, not when there was a slim chance you could still win.

And then it happened.

The screens on the side of the track blinked the letters that turned out to be your saving grace: FCY followed by SC. The limiter flashes on the screen of your steering wheel and suddenly you’re back in the race, seeing his rear end grow closer and closer until you’re right up against him. Finally, after a few laps, your engineer lets you know that the safety car is coming in.

“Be ready,” he warns, “you know he could take off at any point.” And so he does. The exit of turn 16, onto the start straight.

You had him, you didn’t let him slip away, not even for a second. It was close with him for a while, two laps to be exact, before your slipstream and DRS combo took him. Your engineer cheers you on as calmly as he can, his even voice showering you in praise. You breathe through the turns, knowing only a few laps remain between you and this championship. Everything rides on this, everything. Win this last race and your name will be in the history books forever.

And that’s exactly what you did, crossing the finish line with those fireworks going off in the background, nothing could take this from you. You did your cooldown lap, pulling back up to the finish line to do your celebratory donuts, laughing and hollering on the radio with your team. You couldn’t even be bothered that he was there with you, right next to you. You pull into the pitlane, your heart racing as your engineer offers the news that you are not, in fact, the target of any penalties. You sit in your car after pulling up to first place, flipping your visor up and crying, soaking up every emotion possible in this moment. You feel pats and slaps on your helmet, other drivers congratulating you on the win, on the championship. You finally find it in you to leave your car, climbing out slowly and soaking it in, that your name will forever be in the history books. You drop your steering wheel in your car and turn around-

He’s standing right there, his shoulders droop a little more than usual but he stands there, waiting for you. He approaches you slowly, leaving his helmet on.

“Congratulations, you drove well.” He says softly. Interestingly enough, your heart breaks a little for him. You pull him into a half hug.

“Scared me for a minute there, thought I’d lose to you again this year after that pit stop.”

“You underestimate your drive. There’s nothing I could do to stop you in those last laps. Don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful set of last laps to close out.” Your heart races at his words, his praise eliciting a reaction that feels unlike anything you’d ever felt with him. He flicks your visor down as he walks away, getting a small giggle out of you.

Finally, you get to your team. They’re practically bursting over the barricades to congratulate you, chanting your name. You laugh, running up to them, allowing yourself to be bombarded with their congratulatory cheers.

“Go get that damn trophy for us.”

The trophy ceremony was honestly a blur, literally and figuratively. You’re pretty sure you blacked out during it, and tears filled your eyes and rolled down your cheeks. You don’t even remember the party afterwards, the sprays of champagne, the club overflowing with the team’s staff, your teammate getting hammered after helping to win the constructor’s championship as well.

You didn’t remember much until the next morning.

You woke up groaning in the hotel room, your phone buzzing itself off the nightstand. You grabbed your head, this hangover was not going to let you go gently. You snatched your phone off the floor, genuinely surprised that you remembered to plug it in last night.

“Hello?” You answer, your voice hoarse from whooping and cheering all through last night.

“Please tell me you didn’t fuck him, because if you did I’m gonna bury your body where no one will find you.” It’s your publicist, sounding exasperated and also hungover.

“What?”

“Did you fuck him?”

“Fuck who?”

“Friday morning, somebody has a photo of you stumbling out of his room at the goddamn crack of dawn in your dress from the night before.”

“Oh my god.”

“So I’m gonna take that as a yes-” You drop your phone, unwilling to hear the rest as you can just predict how much of a PR nightmare this will be.

“Who knows?”

“It’s a pretty grainy photo, honestly, and it’s posted by one of those deuxmoi wannabe F1 twitter pages… but-”

“But what?”

“If you edit it to make it a little clearer, it’s pretty fucking obvious. It’s circulating pretty fast, but we can put out a statement if it’s not true. So, did you?”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“How many times?” You sigh, rubbing your forehead.

“I don’t know. A lot.” It’s her turn to sigh.

“I’m too hungover to deal with this, but I’ll see what I can do. It… it won’t be a lot, more likely than not we’ll be planning damage control. And of course this comes out the morning after you win the championship, you need to pick your men better.” She hangs up with a click.

You know you shouldn’t, but of course you begin to scroll through social media, seeing everything that’s under your name. Forget the championship, this is the biggest piece of news this sport has seen in a while. And of course nobody’s condemning him, why would they? He’s got a paycheck the size of his goddamn ego and a fanbase that spans continents. You scream into a pillow, throwing your phone across the hotel room. Your phone buzzes on the floor again, and you’re the most sure you’ve ever been that if you dare to check, it’ll be your team principal. He wouldn’t reach out, it’s not his reputation that’s being destroyed. No, he’s being paraded around for hitting that.

Angry tears stream down your cheeks. How could you be so fucking stupid? Of course you were bound to get caught, but they couldn’t let your championship sit undisturbed for one day? The stupid trophy sits on the countertop by the bar, practically taunting you with its presence. The hunk of metal changes from an achievement to an accusation before your eyes. That you slept your way to the top, that he let you have it, that you needed a man to get you to where you are. It makes you sick, and that’s probably why you find yourself hugging the toilet now. It’s not fair, it’s never been fair…

And it will never be fair.

[starsandhughes]

Penalty Box— Imagines Edition: Not So Happy Birthday (Part Two)

GENERAL MASTERLIST

part one

happy birthday to me! have a present🤍 sorry it's so short!

warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of underage drinking, crying, anxiety, fighting, mentions of prison

word count: 1.9k

Previously

“I can’t believe him,” Jamie scoffed. “He told me he fucked up, but that was a whole new level of fucking up.”

“He crossed so many lines,” Cole agreed in disbelief.

“Yeah, well…” you took a deep breath, “I probably did, too. I don’t even remember some of the other awful things I said before I sobered up.”

“He had no right,” Petey piped up.

You nodded and brought your knees close to your chest and leaned more into Quinn, “I don’t want us to go to bed angry.”

“I don’t want him in this house right now, Sissy,” Quinn said.

“I know; I don’t want him either. I just don’t want to go to bed angry. We’ve never done that in our four plus years of dating, and I don’t want to start now.”

“He said the same thing in the car,” Cole admitted.

“He was a real mess,” Jamie admitted. “He couldn’t tell us what happened. He could barely get a word out.”

You nodded and closed your eyes as more tears slipped out. You knew what you had to do– what you wanted to do.

“Cole, can you come sit with me while I call him upstairs?” you asked quietly.

“You don’t want me?” Quinn asked, confused.

“I love you, Quinny, but sometimes best friend number two is better suited for a job,” you slightly smiled at him.

“You got me there,” Quinn breathed out a laugh.

He let go of his hold on you as you accepted Cole’s hand to walk up the stairs with you. He sat down on the edge of the bed and kept your hand in his as you picked up your phone to call your boyfriend. Trevor picked up his phone immediately, “Hello?!”

“Hi,” you said quietly.

“Y/N, I am so sorry. I cannot believe–”

“I’m sorry, too,” you cut him off. “We’ll talk about everything tomorrow. I just didn’t want to go to bed angry.”

“Yeah,” Trevor sighed. “Me either.”

“I love you,” you breathed. You squeezed Cole’s hand in fear that he might not say it back.

“I love you, too,” he finally answered.

“Always?”

“Forever.”

— — —

You woke up just after six am the next morning after a restless night full of overthinking. Quinn was knocked out on the other side of his bed, so you carefully slid out from under the covers to go downstairs. You made yourself a cup of coffee then wrapped yourself in a throw blanket as you sat and slowly sipped your drink on the end of the couch. You were completely zoned out. The only thing going through your mind are various fake situations as to how today’s talk with Trevor will go. You had practiced the made up conversation in your head that you could probably direct a movie scene for it.

You didn’t know if Trevor was awake yet and it was killing you. Is he going to call first? Or is he anxiously waiting for you to call him since you have to give him permission to even walk in the house. Your anxiety was killing you, so you decided to go outside and sit on the front porch in order to avoid anyone that might wake up soon.

The answer to the questions in your head was answered as soon as you stepped outside. Trevor was sitting in his car at the end of the driveway with his head laying on the steering wheel. He was just as a mess as you were. You stood right in front of the door to the house, contemplating on turning right back around and going inside. Trevor hadn’t noticed you yet. You could do it and avoid what needed to happen for a little while longer. You could leave the helpless boy alone in his car. You could go sit back down on the couch and listen to your thoughts screaming at you. You could, but you didn’t want to.

You sat in one of the porch chairs and pulled out your phone. You scrolled to Trevor’s contact and pressed call, not wanting to brave the walk down to his car.

“Good morning,” Trevor said when he answered the call. The sound of his voice broke your heart. It was obvious that he had been crying.

“Good morning,” you echoed.

“Did you sleep–”

“Get out of your car,” you cut him off. Trevor whipped his head around with wide eyes as he looked to see you on the porch.

“Are you sure?” he whispered.

“No,” you sighed. “But you should do it anyway.”

You watched him as he carefully walked up the driveway as if he was preparing for you to tell him to turn back around. You put your head down once he got close to you. You were almost ashamed at how nervous you felt. He’s your boyfriend for fucks sake! He’s your soulmate, you’re lifeline.

He’s the person who hurt you last night. On your birthday. While in jail.

Trevor knelt down on his knees in front of you and slowly brought his hand up to your cheek. You closed your eyes and pursed your quivering lips. Last night, all you wanted was to see him, so why were you so scared?

“Please look at me, Y/N,” Trevor pleaded in a whisper. He slowly drew his thumb across your cheek bone, “Please.”

He sighed in relief when you finally opened your eyes to look at him. It was evident that he had no sleep, and the pain in his eyes made you want to skip the whole conversation part and throw yourself into his arms. He needed you just as bad as you needed him. This was killing both of you.

“I know you’ve thought of a million different ways for how this will go, but I need you to let me go off your script, okay? Let me talk first.” Trevor took a deep breath when you nodded. “I am so unbelievably sorry for what I said last night. I should’ve thought things through before I opened my mouth and said things I didn’t mean. You’ve been through things that no one should ever have to go through. Things that I can’t even try to relate to. It wasn’t okay for me to throw that in your face when the reason that I was upset had nothing to do with that.

“I shouldn’t have even been upset! I assumed things that weren’t even true and then got mad that you flipped it on me and I stepped way out of line. I kept replaying things over and over last night and you were right. You didn’t know who the guy was and so many of our friends have come up behind you in the same way, so I get that that was your first thought. You looked absolutely beautiful last night. Not for me, not for strangers, but for you.

“I got flashbacks to one of our high school parties before we got together when Jack said that you dressed up just for me and then you talked with some other guy the second we walked into that club and I don’t even know why. My stupid high school insecurities that you were into anybody else but me came back up and I turned into a total dick because of it. None of this is an excuse. I don’t want it to be an excuse, I just want you to know why I acted like that. The universe decided to pull a cruel joke on me and I got scared. I am so sorry, sweet girl. I didn’t mean a word I said and I’ll get it if you never want to see me again. I just need you to know that I’m sorry and that I love you.”

You didn’t know how to feel. Nothing that he just said was even close to what made-up Trevor said, and you were thrown for a loop. You understood that fear and anxiety could play tricks on you and warp your mind. It makes you act out in self defense, sometimes rather stupidly. The alcohol definitely made it worse. It certainly does for you. It did the night of the party that he was talking about.

“I didn’t want to talk to that guy that night,” you said. “I tried to walk away, but you were surrounded by girls. The beer got the best of me and I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me, so I stayed. But I did dress up for you. Jack was telling the truth.”

Trevor softly smiled and tucked some hair behind your ear, “I guess we went back in time last night, huh? Just reversed the roles.”

“Yeah,” you nodded. You decided it was your turn after the silence lingered for a bit. “I’m sorry, too. I know you have to be nice to the fans and I honestly never think anything of it. I was hurt and mad and I lashed back. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Can you give me one more chance?” Trevor asked you. His voice was shaky and ridden with fear.

You smiled and got down on the ground to be on his level. You ran your fingers through the sides of his hair and settled your hands at the nape of his neck, “You never lost your current one.”

You slowly brought your lips to his and kissed him softly. It was quick, but it said all that you needed to say. You rested your forehead against his when your lips parted and felt your body relax as soon as his steady breaths hit your face. It had only been a night, and you were used to spending nights away from him while he was on roadies, but the absence of his touch last night left you feeling like a part of you was missing. It didn’t matter that you fought, all you wanted was him.

“I love you,” Trevor breathed. “Forever.”

“I love you, always.”

“How about we go inside and I make you a fresh cup of coffee? Do you think Quinn will kill me if he sees me inside?”

“Maybe,” you joked. “But I think I can take him.”

“You can definitely take him,” Trevor said.

You laughed and accepted Trevor’s hand to be pulled off the ground. He grabbed your blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders, took your half drunk cup of coffee in his hand, and followed you inside.

You smiled to yourself on the couch when you heard Trevor softly singing as he made the two of you coffee. He always made his cup first and your cup second so that yours would be the warmest out of the two. You knew it didn’t really make a difference, but it’s one of your favorite things that Trevor does for you. You looked back and watched him as he poured the creamer into his cup and patiently waited for yours to finish brewing.

Your smile grew when Trevor smiled back at you when he noticed you watching as he walked towards the living room. Trevor kissed your forehead before handing you your mug, just as he always did. You leaned against his shoulder once he sat down next to you, finally feeling content.

“How long do you think we have until anyone wakes up?” Trevor asked you.

“Probably a few hours,” you chuckled. “Not everyone couldn’t sleep last night and got up at the crack of dawn.”

“So does that mean we have time to…?” he trailed off, but you knew exactly what he meant.

“Trevor Zegras,” you faked a gasp. “Are you asking for makeup sex?”

“I would never!” Trevor played along.

“Petey’s asleep in my room,” you said.

“Race you to the car?”

“You’re on.”