#i was so stressed when i checked it and thought i missed it

[satancopilotsmytardis]

(Getting) Better Together

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Commissioned by an anonymous user. Dabi did not know that he was an omega, and he can’t say that he ever really wanted to find out that he was. He just wanted to join the League of Villains and destroy his father. But when the League’s doctor refused to clear him for active duty, he really thought the next step would be getting kicked out. He didn’t think that he would suddenly have the guy who tried to kill him trying to help him through this entire situation. 

Contents: ABO, Alpha!Shigaraki, Omega!Dabi, Recovery from malnutrition/starvation, Mating Cycles, Heat/Ruts, Sex Ed, Discussions of past child and spousal abuse, Infertility, Sex Toys, Porn, Loss of Virginity/First Time, Anal Sex, Grinding, Cumming in Pants, Wet and Messy, Praise Kink, Creampie, Multiple Orgasms, Knots, Dabi has genital piercings, Shigaraki has a massive cock. 

Word Count: 19249

Given that the new boss nearly killed him, Dabi really didn't think that the situation with the League of Villains would have anything over the usual jobs that he's done with other crews of criminals. But the next day, when he and Toga come back in after getting the few things they had kept at the safe house Giran had them held up in, Kurogiri informs them that they'll be living on the floor above the bar with Shigaraki. They each get a private, barely furnished room with a lock on the door, and they'll be able to buy whatever they want to decorate their space with the money that they're going to get for being on retainer, training, and running whatever small jobs the League has for them before they debut. They are also informed that there is a grocery list on the refrigerator and that as they need things, they can add it to that. On Wednesdays and Sundays they'll get a delivery of whatever they're missing. He's also not expecting them to be told that the League has a doctor on-call and that they will need to schedule a check-up with him over the course of the next week to ensure that they're healthy and that they have any medicine that they need as they get started in the organization. That's pretty strange. 

But nothing is as strange as the doctor coming back into the examination room he's been sitting in for half an hour, and getting a somewhat bewildered look. 

"What's up, doc?" He asks, not appreciating that he's somehow managed to be even more of a freak than he already is. 

"I have the results from your test." 

"What do I have, like seventy incurable diseases or something?" It would be his luck. 

"No," but there is definitely something, given the tone. "You reported being a beta?" 

"...yeah?" 

"I have to inform you that your designation is actually that of an omega." Ujiko tells him, looking him dead in the eye. Dabi stares back. 

"What?"

"It appears that you've had extended periods of malnutrition and are severely underweight for your height. Being in such a state, your body seems to have essentially 'turned off' all of the sex traits of your designation, allowing you to pass for a beta. You'll need to have another examination to determine the health of your reproductive system." 

Dabi is so stunned that he doesn't even find the words to protest. 

///

It's another hour and a half later when he is finished, feeling a little humiliated after the entire thing, though luckily a different doctor, someone else on AFO's payroll who is actually an expert in Omega anatomy took care of that, and they're in the room with he and Ujiko to determine what he needs to do going forward. 

"Mr. Dabi--" 

"Just 'Dabi'." He says numbly. 

"Dabi," they correct, their voice gentle. "I am very sorry to inform you, but it appears that the damage sustained by your body from your burns as well as the extended period of malnutrition and high-stress has... rendered you infertile." 

Oh. That's supposed to be a bad thing. Omegas are supposed to be all about having lots of pups. But Dabi feels some relief sweep through him for the first time since he got the news. "Okay, is that why I've never had a heat?" 

"In part, maybe. But that is more likely to be related to the weight and malnutrition. We're going to prescribe some shakes that you can drink to help get your daily nutrients more readily, and we recommend you start eating a diet that is rich in fat and protein." The omega doctor gives him a pamphlet that outlines how he should be structuring his meals to ensure that he's putting on weight and Ujiko goes in for the kill, 

"Until you gain ten kilos and have your first heat, I am not marking your chart as 'field ready'." 

"What? But I've been fine. I can do my job! Just give me suppressants!" 

"Not having your heat for so long is not 'fine'," The other doctor tells him, using that infuriatingly gentle tone again. "Extended stress like this can cause a whole host of severe medical issues that can dramatically shorten your lifespan." Like he doesn't already have a short one of those. "Now that you'll be getting the nutrition your body needs as well as having a safe place to sleep, you're going to start off by feeling much, much worse as your hormones begin to equalize." They keep talking for a while, loading Dabi up with about five more pamphlets for him to read and Dabi wonders if the League was really worth all the trouble it's turning out to be. 

///

When he gets back to base that night, he goes straight to his room, and spreads out the pamphlets on his bed, trying to read through them all, but feeling like all of the information is just sort of slipping off of his brain from his shock. It takes until there's a soft knock on his door for him to realize that it must have been hours, that he skipped eating, which he's probably going to be in trouble for if AFO doesn't just decide that he's not worth the trouble of keeping around and throw him to the streets again. 

He manages to get up and go to the door. 

Shigaraki is standing on the other side, and yeah, it must be late, because he's not even wearing the hands anymore. "Here," Dabi looks down at his hands and finds a small box that claims to have a phone in it. "My number and Kurogiri's is already programed in. If you need a teleport, just text him and he'll open a portal." 

"Oh. Thanks." 

"...The doctor didn't clear you for missions." It's not a question. But the tone of it rings a bell in the back of Dabi's mind that, for as much as they're villains, means that Ujiko didn't tell Shigaraki why he wouldn't clear Dabi. "If you're using anything harder than weed, you shouldn't be here." 

"I'm not on drugs." He says a little numbly. "I'm an omega." 

He says the words half because he doesn't know if he believes them. Says them out loud himself and makes them horribly, achingly real. 

Shigaraki blinks, and then frowns, his hand moving to scratch at his neck as Dabi just holds onto the phone box like somehow that will help him feel grounded from the mess of his emotions surging through him. "...If you're pregnant then this isn't a good place for you either. We're going to start a war, Dabi. This isn't a place to raise a pup if that's what you want." His voice isn't gentle like the other doctor's was. It's clinical. "If you need treatment as you decide what you want to do, we can provide that, but we won't be able to keep you here if you can't be active. I can speak to Giran, he might be able to take you in as a broker-in-training--" 

"I'm not pregnant." Dabi tells him. "I didn't know." It sounds so pathetic when he admits it, and he doesn't know why he does. He tried to kill Shigaraki two days ago. He doesn't even like him. 

There's another long pause, and then he hears Shigaraki take a slow breath. "Okay. Do you want me to come in?" 

Dabi doesn't know what he wants, but he steps aside. Shigaraki closes the door softly behind him and sits on the crate that is serving as his desk, picking up some of the scattered pamphlets from the bed. Dabi manages to make his legs move so he can sit back down. 

Shigaraki starts to read him the pamphlets, pausing to make Dabi repeat back the things he's read so he knows that Dabi is starting to pay attention. 

///

He's going to be a mess. Once he comes out of the shock of learning his real designation, Dabi finally has that sink in. He is going to have his hormones flooding him all the time and because it's going to be the first time, it's likely that he's going to have such intense emotions that he's going to cry at the drop of a hat or get particularly vicious out of nowhere. He shouldn't be around any other omegas that he doesn't want to form an intense pack bond with, and he should be very, very careful about what alphas he associates with, because he's probably going to go back and forth from wanting to be mated to his brain turning completely off and able to be commanded without even needing a real order. None of the rest of the League are omegas though, so that's something. But Shigaraki, it turns out, is an alpha, along with Muscular, Magne, and Toga, though she's young enough that his body won't register her as a potential mate. 

Shigaraki keeps him away from the other alphas, and offers to have Kurogiri be the one who brings their work back and forth if that will make him more comfortable. But Dabi hasn't told any of the others. As far as they know, his scars are the reason that he's not allowed to do field work right now, and he's been avoiding them, hoping they think he's got an infection or something so that they don't ask what's going on. But Shigaraki is the only other person he's told, and he doesn't know if he'll manage to figure out how the fuck to do this on his own if he has to.

Shigaraki, thankfully, doesn't say anything about that yet. They don't know when his first heat is going to hit, but he doesn't ask, or assume that he's going to be allowed to knot him like a toy-- use him the way that Enji used to use his mother. And Dabi keeps his mouth shut. He goes online and reads forums and websites that are dedicated to helping omegas through their cycles and people are constantly arguing back and forth about if a toy or a person is better to get them through their heats faster, but that's not the first thing he has to deal with. 

No, the first hard thing that hits him through this transition is trying to eat. 

It's so stupid, he has been half-starved and has eaten spoiled food, or even rotten food when things were really bad, so many times in his life, but having to put on the weight he's being asked to is hard. He is supposed to start his day with a nutrient dense protein shake that has a chalky flavor that is absolutely not 'vanilla' no matter what the bottle says it is, and is so thick and rich with fat it coats his tongue like there's a waxy film on it. He fucking hates it, and it's so much liquid that he feels like he's stuffed to the gills before he even starts the day. After the shake, he usually gets an hour or two of studying villain shit, apparently taking on some of Duster's administration work, of which there's a lot, because he can't go into the field. During this time, he's supposed to have another high protein snack, even though he's already full. Then he gets to go work out. Putting on muscle is a good way to get his body up to weight, and he has always liked training, so that isn't a hardship. It's just that afterwards he has to eat a full lunch that is also high in protein. In the afternoon he is supposed to finish anything that he didn't in the morning and have another snack. He usually finishes around mid-afternoon, and then he waits for dinner, alone in his room, makes himself eat again, and has to have one final snack before he gets to go to bed. 

His isolation also means that all of these meals are taken in his bedroom, which now has a proper desk, a mini-fridge, microwave, and a hot plate. He can actually cook rudimentary things if he wants to, and he doesn't even have to wash the dishes, he just puts them in a bin that goes outside of his door so that Kurogiri or someone can take them downstairs to the dishwasher. But he can't bring himself to cook. He can't bring himself to do much of anything but the bare minimum, and that's not good enough. When he goes back to the doctor for another checkup, he's only gained .3 kilos at the end of the week which is lower than the average person who is on a refeeding treatment. At this rate it will take him far too long to get to a healthy weight, well after the League is supposed to debut in its new form. It takes about half an hour of him nearly pleading to get the goalpost moved. Seven kilos and one heat, if he can hit that and comes out of it not half-dead or having lost the weight again during the heat, then he'll be cleared for the summer camp job. 

It doesn't feel like a victory though when he goes back to his room and has to sit alone inside of it, staring at the fridge full of food he doesn't want to eat and trying to hold back tears as he feels his body betraying him again.

There's a soft knock against the door and Dabi shuts the fridge and calls, "What, Duster?" Because Shigaraki is the only one who ever comes to see him now. He must want the files that he was reviewing. Potential recruits for the summer camp job, that he's not going to be able to go on unless he gets his shit together. There's a slight pause, but Shig opens the door. He's not expecting him to step inside, flinch, and then close the door swiftly behind him. 

"Are you okay?"

He's really not expecting it when just that is enough to push him over the edge and have his seams aching as blood beads up under them. He made himself stop crying years ago. He thought that all of his tears got burned off with most of his skin on the mountain. But Shigaraki asks him one question, and he immediately bursts into the closest thing he has to tears. 

"Shit, Dabi--" Shigaraki moves into his space, his hands reaching out towards him, and Dabi can't help it, he flinches back, sparks leaping up to his skin to defend himself. He knows that this is pathetic, that this isn't what Shigaraki thought he was signing up for when he brought him to this place. But he can't help it. That doesn't mean he's going to let the other kill him though. Shigaraki immediately takes a step back, holding up his hands, his smell starting to pulse out through the room. It's gentle and comforting, not at all the acrid angry smell that he'd been when he first tried to kill him, and that scent takes all of the fight back out of him as he sobs harder. "Can I touch you? I promise I'll be careful." 

It takes him a second. He’s never wanted anyone in his personal space before, but he feels like he needs Shigaraki right now. He manages to cool his skin down, and lets out such a pitiful sound, a watery whine that he's never heard himself make. And then he gives a tiny nod. Shigaraki moves over to him and chuffs comfortingly, reaching with one hand, a finger curled into his palm, to wipe away the blood from his cheeks, and the other wraps around his shoulders as he pulls him into a hug. He keeps him close and it... feels so good for someone to comfort him. No one has done that since Natsuo, and as much as he loves his brother, even in his memories he wasn't great at it. He was young, they were both young. He shouldn't have put that on him. 

It takes an age for him to stop crying, and when he does, Shigaraki just gets him to sit down on his bed, and Duster goes over to the bathroom and wets a washcloth before he joins him and starts to wipe the blood off of his cheeks. He does it so softly, but his seams are aching so badly from the wounds being freshly torn open. He waits until Dabi's face is all clean and he's just letting his shame saturate his body before he speaks again. 

"Sorry... hormones, I guess." 

"You don't have to apologize, Dabi. When your cycle is under control, you'll be back to normal and driving me absolutely insane again." Shigaraki sounds more patient than Dabi would have ever given him credit for before. "Your room reeked of distress before you started crying, do you want to tell me what's wrong? Did something happen during your check-up?" 

"... I'm not gaining weight well enough, and I've already been struggling to eat as much as the doctor is telling me to." He admits softly. "This is a waste of time. I'll get my shit and go--" 

"I think that's a bit premature, Dabi." Shigaraki tells him. "It's only been a week. If you're having a hard time with the meals, there are other things that we can try. What don't you like about them so far?" 

It takes him a minute, but Dabi makes himself talk, and Shigaraki surprises him again by sitting there the entire time and listening. 

///

The next morning Shigaraki comes into his room with his groceries on one arm. He splits Dabi's nutrient shake in half and makes him put half of it in a weird cup that he then puts in the freezer, and only has him drink the other as Shigaraki chops up an onion, a red pepper, chilis, and minces some garlic. He puts one of the pans on the little burner and moves to put the vegetables in, but Dabi steps in, not wanting to be completely babied and also--

"You can't cook them without putting something in the pan, they'll stick!" 

"It's a non-stick pan." 

"It's a shitty non-stick pan that looks like it's been hacked at with a machete for ten years. If you don't put something into it, they'll stick." 

"Fine, you can help." He almost sounds smug when he says it, and Dabi wonders what the play is, other than making his room smell like onions. "Put a couple of spoonfuls  of the Greek yogurt into a bowl with the garlic and season it with whatever you like on your eggs." 

"What the fuck are you making?" Dabi asks, in utter confusion as Shigaraki opens a can of tomatoes which he hasn't ever used in a breakfast dish before, and once the other vegetables are sweating, pours the tomatoes in as well. 

"It's a loose take on shakshuka, I used to have it when my teacher and I were in North Africa." He cooks them for a little while as Dabi goes ahead and adds the garlic to the yogurt and digs out a bottle of hot sauce that he got and puts in a couple of splashes of that along with some salt and pepper. When the liquid in the pan has reduced a lot, Shigaraki adds some seasonings to the pan, and then uses the spoon to make two wells in the vegetables, and cracks in two eggs. He covers the pan and takes out a small thing of pita bread. 

In a few minutes, once the eggs have set, he takes that pan off the hot plate and puts it on a trivet, so he can warm the bread in a second one. That doesn't take long, and when it's all finished, they sit with the big pan between them, a plate and bread in front of each of them, and Shigaraki puts the yogurt sauce on top. He uses the pita bread to break the yolk of his egg and scoops up some of the mixture. Dabi hesitates, but he's usually not a picky eater, and he has to eat anyway. So he follows his lead. 

It's definitely different from anything he's had before, but it doesn't taste bad, and after how miserable his meals have been for the past few weeks, he isn't about to complain. Not really. He is going to badger Duster though. "Needs salt." 

"Add salt then." 

"Why did you make me breakfast?" 

"I made us breakfast," Shigaraki tells him, "That's high in protein, and hopefully tastes better than your shake?" 

"...Yeah?" 

"Good. Eat." And that's all he says about it. 

Dabi decides not to look a gift horse in the mouth and they eat the shakshuka as Shigaraki changes the discussion to the files he was working on yesterday. That discussion goes on for so long, that he doesn't notice when they finished off the pan, or when the dishes and trash got cleared away into the bin and bag to be removed, but when they're done, Shigaraki is still talking as he gets out three small containers and a few more pouches from the grocery bags. 

He only gets derailed momentarily when Shigaraki asks, "Do you like sweet things, savory things, or salty things?" 

"What?" 

Shigaraki doesn't repeat the question. 

"Uh, I don't love sweets." He says after a second.

Shigaraki puts one of the pouches back in the grocery bag and steers their conversation right back to work. He keeps Dabi talking as he finishes with what he's doing, and when they've pretty fully debriefed, he suggests, 

"I'm going to go change, and then we can go to the training room together." 

Dabi glances at his phone, surprised that it's already after ten. "Oh, okay. Why are you joining me? I promise I'm not about to have another breakdown." He's not sure if that's true. He might. He doesn't know. 

"I need to work on rebuilding muscle too," Shigaraki tells him, reaching for the hem of his shirt. He pulls the fabric up and Dabi sees that the other man is nearly as thin as he is, though he doesn't look hollowed in the sick way that Dabi is now seeing in the shape of his body. But the vivid, angry raised circular scars that dot his side speak to exactly why Shigaraki isn't at his physical peak. He knows from the reports that he also got shot in the leg at UA. "I figured that it would be easier if we did it together. Is that alright?" 

He doesn't want to be babied. He doesn't need to be. The hardest things he's ever done, he's done alone. He can get through this too. But there is a little voice in the back of his head that says he doesn't want to. He doesn't want to be alone again. 

"Okay."

Shigaraki smiles at him, and it's a very tentative thing. It almost looks like it hurts, like he hasn't smiled for any reason in a long, long time, and his face kind of forgot how to do it. Dabi isn't sure he remembers either. 

An hour later when they're both catching their breath between sets, Shigaraki pulls the three little containers out of his bag and offers him his choice. One has cheese, nuts, jerky, and a few grapes in it, another has a homemade trail mix with a few different kinds of nuts, some pretzels, and dried fruit, and the last has some slices of celery, a little portable cup of peanut butter, and some raisins. Dabi picks the trail mix, and Shigaraki eats the celery, before they get back to work. 

When they go back to base, Shig lists out a few options for lunch and lets Dabi pick one, and they cook it together. He hasn't cooked with someone else since he was a child, and he feels small again cooking next to Shigaraki. But it's different than it was when he was young. He was... always anxious when he cooked back then, always waiting to ruin something and prove to Enji that he was right to cast him aside. With Shigaraki he doesn't have to worry about that, because Duster clearly does not know his way around a kitchen and breakfast was a fluke. But they make lunch. And they make another snack to have between that and dinner, and when dinner rolls around, they have that too. Before Duster leaves for the night, he has Dabi take the shake out of the tiny shitty freezer and Shigaraki makes him shake the cup for a minute, and he hears the stuff inside get thicker and thicker. When he opens it, Duster offers him some different ice cream toppings, from toasted peanuts to strawberry sauce. Dabi doesn't like sweets, but he puts the chocolate sauce and some peanuts on top and eats the second half of the shake like it's ice cream. It's still not great, but it is miles better than it was all the past week, and Dabi tries to remember how to smile too as he thanks him. 

///

The rest of the week follows this trend. The day after the first, he and Shigaraki sit down and they plan their meals and snacks for the rest of the week, sending whoever goes out to do the grocery shopping to do that, and then Duster kicks out all of the others so that Dabi can go down to the kitchen. He didn't realize how skittish he would be, but yeah, the thought of being open and exposed is making him want to ignite or pull his skin off. They cook and meal prep for the rest of the week, but by the time they're done, Dabi is letting out the most pathetic sounds that he's never heard from himself before, and he's shaking like a leaf. Shigaraki chuffs at him again and leaves everything downstairs a mess as he ushers him back up to his room, but even that doesn't feel safe anymore.

Shig makes him sit on the edge of his bed and pulls out his phone. A second later he goes to the door and pulls a shipping box through it that's nearly as tall as Toga. Dabi doesn't have his head on straight enough to even manage to ask what the fuck that is, and he doesn't end up needing too as Shigaraki drags it over. 

"Okay, here. Why don't you make a nest, Dabi?" 

Dabi knows that nesting is a thing that omegas are supposed to do on their heats, and when they're still sharing a bed with their pups. It's supposed to be a comfortable, secure place that helps make them feel safe. It's supposed to be instinctive, but as Shigaraki starts to take out the piles of pillows, blankets, and sheets, he feels lost. Shig waits for him to move and Dabi hunches in on himself, 

"I... don't know how." It's supposed to be easy, isn't it? But looking at all of this shit, he can't imagine how he's supposed to make the pile of it more comfortable than just curling up on his little bed and pulling a blanket over his head. 

Shigaraki pauses. "Okay. Neither do I." Dabi wonders how he can keep being made to feel even more inadequate than he was before. "But I've made a blanket fort before. Do you want to try that instead?" 

"...Okay." 

He and Shig move the two chairs that they've been using to work in front of the bed, about a meter from the edge of it and apart from each other. Then Shig looks around until he finds one of the specific packages and has Dabi tear it open and spread it out in the square of space that they've made for themselves. It's a pad of some sort that has been vacuum sealed and compressed in on itself, and when they leave it alone on the floor, it starts to re-inflate, and fill out the space. Shigaraki has him opening the other blankets while he gets the thin into a mattress cover that crinkles, the label from that proclaiming it will fit most nest pads and that it's waterproof so that, Dabi blushes, slick won't leak through and ruin it. They start to put down pillows and blankets together, and there are so many of them. Some say they're very soft, some say they retain smells better than others, some say they're waterproof, and a million other things that Dabi didn't know that omegas would want, or not want in their nests-- and it occurs to him then, that maybe Shigaraki doesn't know either. Maybe he just bought a little of everything hoping that one of them would work for Dabi. 

It takes them about half an hour to get all the blankets and pillows settled inside, the nest nearly twice the size as his bed, and at the end, they use the backs of the chairs as posts, holding up two sheets that they secure together with clothes pins over their head that they stretch in a canopy over the nest by tucking one side under the edge of his mattress and draping the rest. It casts the underside in shadow and Shig holds open one of the flaps of the fort. Dabi hesitates, but crawls inside, and watches the flap close. He listens to the other moving around the room for a few minutes and feels... so small as Shigaraki cleans up the mess from all of the packaging. He feels small, but... not bad as he stays in the fort, feeling the heat of his body seeping into the air around him. It's going to get very hot in here if he leaves it like this. 

Dabi kneels and reaches for the joint in the sheets, and he unclips a few of the clothes pins in the middle of the sheets, using them to open up a vent that also serves as a skylight, letting in a little more light and allowing the heat to vent a bit more. Then he's left sitting alone and the doubt starts to creep in again. 

"Can you either come in or get out? I feel like a dumbass sitting in a pile of blankets with you just staring at it." 

"Who said I was staring at you?" 

"Are you?" 

"...Are you sure you want me to come in?" 

Dabi pulls one of the pillows close, making himself as small as he feels. "...Yeah. Not going to jump on your knot. I'm not in heat yet, Duster."

Shigaraki moves around the room again for a second, and then he hears him kneel down. He opens one side of the sheet and hesitates another second before he climbs in with him. They move around a bit, getting to a point where they're both comfortable and Shig gives him his afternoon snack. Dabi isn't expecting for that to make a warm contentedness roll through him and banish away the stress that had come from being downstairs so thoroughly, but as soon as he has his trail mix with three jerky strips, he starts to... purr. 

He's never heard that sound out of his throat. He's never even heard an omega do it in person. His mother certainly wasn't purring at all in his memories. But he starts to make that sound. It's awful. It's rough and stuttery, like his body is trying to shake off a decade worth of rust to figure out how the fuck he's supposed to show that he's... happy. He doesn't know if he's been happy since he was five. Shigaraki lets the sound ride, just sitting with him, taking out his phone as Dabi eats his snack and clicking away on some mobile game.

They stay in the nest for the rest of the day. And when Shigaraki leaves for the night and Dabi has to contemplate taking down the sheet so he can get into his bed, he can't bring himself to do it, instead climbing right back into the secure pile of pillows. It's only when the other man is gone, that Dabi realizes the alpha left his scent all in his blankets. That even though Dabi's natural scent is all but gone because of his burns, that Shigaraki's has layered through the space. It's soft and warm, telling Dabi that he was content in this space too... that the alpha was pleased with what they put together, which makes him purr again. And beyond the emotion the can place in the scent, his nest just smells good with Shigaraki's smell like chai tea and the breeze on a stormy day. He didn't used to like the rain. It could fuck with his quirk, it made finding places to sleep absolutely miserable, and it invited sickness into his body. 

But it's hard to think of a time he's ever felt safer or more cozy as he curls up with Shigaraki's smell in his nose. 

///

Shigaraki makes the doctor move back his appointment for the end of the month, and when he goes back, he's up by two-point-three kilos. He looks like it too, able to see the way his stomach isn't so flat that it's practically concave, and his face doesn't look so sallow anymore, his cheeks rounding out a little again and making him... look a little more like his mom. Fluid retention, the doctor tells him, since he's also been exercising and trying to gain muscle and not just fat, he might lose the water weight again and start to see that weight increase much more gradually. He stops having to drink the nutrient shakes now that his diet is more balanced, as long as he replaces the calories that he loses if he removes that from his diet. 

He gets back to base and finds that Shig is restocking his fridge with snacks and bursts into tears again because of his stupid hormones, and from the relief. This is all even more ridiculous given that as soon as he is allowed into the field, he'll be racing towards the confrontation with his father and his inevitable end. But he's realizing now that if he hadn't ended up here, if Shigaraki had kicked him out the second that he found out he was too weak to be useful right now, he probably wouldn't have ever even made it to standing in front of his father, let alone able to fight him. Duster takes his outburst this time with more grace, immediately chuffing at him and pulling him close. He holds onto him for a few minutes as Dabi ruins his shirt, and then he makes Dabi sit so he can lose his jacket and shoes, before he ushers him into their nest. He climbs in too, bringing Dabi's water bottle, and letting him get the stupid amount of bloody tears out of his system. 

In about half an hour, once Dabi has stopped crying and he's gotten most of the gross blood off of his face, he manages, with a fair amount of embarrassment, "I'm on track for weight gain again." 

But Shigaraki doesn't mock him for having a meltdown over good news. He just smiles, and it looks better than it did at the start of the month because he's been doing it a lot more. "Good. As long as you have your heat, no matter what the doctor says, I'll let you come on the training camp mission if you feel up to it."

Dabi blinks, "What?" 

"You're underweight, and you need to keep getting better, but if you want to debut with the others, I'll let you. My leg is still recovering. I won't be able to run when we need to, so my teacher has decided that I have to stay here and monitor your progress over coms. Someone will need to stay out of combat and coordinate movements. You can make sure that no one can get near you, and I can have a nomu keep an eye as well. As long as you don't overdo it, as long as you think that you'll be ready for that, I'll let you go." 

He is very, very lucky that he doesn't start crying again. "Thanks, Duster." 

"Just keep this up. Go wash your face, I'll get lunch." 

Dabi does as he's told, and they resume their schedule for the rest of the day. When they're finished much later with all of their work and have eaten their meals for the day, they tend to stay in the nest for another hour or two, Shig playing his game and Dabi reads, sometimes. Sometimes he just listens to Shigaraki's soft breathing, and soaks in his scent.

He's sleepy and content when he mumbles, "You're a much better alpha than I thought you were when we met." 

He's not expecting the long stretch of silence that comes after those words and he wants to take them back. He didn't mean for them to be an insult, but they definitely sound like one in hindsight. 

"I don't think I was a very good one when we met." Shigaraki tells him. "My teacher doesn't have a designation because of his quirk. Neither does Kurogiri. I wasn't allowed to socialize with many other people. I don't think I knew how to act before then. But... being around you is helping." He says it like a confession, turning to look at him finally. "I know that you're still the same rude asshole that I hired-- against my will--" Dabi appreciates the jab. It makes the rest of his words feel like they aren't scraping his skin raw. "But beyond that, you're someone I am responsible for. Someone I need to look out for and make sure that you're taken care of. I'm starting to feel the same way about the others. Starting to think about what it would be like to not be alone-- to... have a pack." 

Dabi doesn't want to start crying again, so he tries sarcasm to push through the lump in his throat. "If you give me a nomu, I'll tell everyone that you're a perfect alpha." 

Shig laughs, a short, soft thing that makes his insides feel warmer. "And what do I have to do to make that something other than lip service?" 

"Be perfect." 

"I'll do my best." 

Dabi isn't sure which one of them moves first, which is probably strange because they move so slowly. But neither of them stop until their lips are pressed together. Dabi doesn't start to panic until the second after they're kissing, as he feels the cracked texture of Shigaraki's lips against his and he has to immediately wonder what his scars feel like under his skin, if this was stupid, if he should pull away quickly and make an excuse about his hormones acting up to get the other to leave him alone and not bring up this again. Then Shigaraki wraps a hand around the back of his neck and tilts his head to the side slightly, changing the angle and making it feel like their mouths were made to press together like this. Dabi's breath is caught in the back of his throat as he realizes that this is the first kiss he's ever had. He's pretty sure he shouldn't be kissing his boss who also tried to kill him once, but it's hard to focus on that when the movement of their lips makes his skin tingle softly. 

When they part, Dabi hopes the ache across his seams is still just from him bawling like a baby earlier, and that he's not turning red. But it gets a little more intense when he sees Shigaraki's eyes searching his face, a heaviness there that makes that tingling in him feel even more intense. 

He doesn't think he means to say, "Spend my heat with me?" As the first thing out of his mouth when he finds his voice. He doesn't know if it's really a good idea to go from his first kiss to asking for Shigaraki to be his first time when he's going to be out of his mind from his hormones. But Shigaraki doesn't balk at the suggestion, doesn't immediately shoot him down and makes his embarrassment any worse. 

"I'll stay with you and help you prepare. Ask me again when it's closer. After you've had a little more time to think about it, okay?" He pairs the words with pulling Dabi close again, his lips falling against the crown of his head this time instead of his own, and Dabi feels so warm, the words not stinging like rejection. 

"Okay." His hands curl into fists against the blankets so he resists the urge to tangle his fingers into his shirt and press his nose against his neck so he can drink in the warmth of his smell. Shigaraki stays with him for another hour, and that's enough for now.

///

They don't touch like that again, but Shigaraki does make him sit down with his laptop no matter how loudly Dabi protests as humiliation roars through him, and makes him actually look at heat supplies. Those range from more waterproof blankets and special smoothies like his nutrient ones to make sure that he stays hydrated and keeping his weight where it's supposed to be while he's on his heat, to toys. 

"I am not buying a dildo." 

"Technically the League of Villains is buying you a dildo." Shigaraki says without blinking. "And you're going to want it if you decide you want to spend your heat alone. Having a knot is going to be the only relief you'll get from everything, trust me. I had to spend a few of my ruts without anything to help and I was miserable and about two seconds away from decaying my own dick." He pauses, "You might also want to get some quirk canceling cuffs if your quirk is going to be so high. I don't want you to set your nest on fire." He just goes on like this is a perfectly normal, and not entirely humiliating thing to be talking about, "The doctor mentioned you might have cramping, didn't he? We should get you a heating pad too." 

Dabi throws up his hands and slinks down into the nest. "Fuck it. If you're not going to listen to me, then you can buy the heat supplies! You know more about it than I do!" He grabs one of the blankets, pretends it's not deliberately the one that Shig was laying on last night and burrows underneath it. 

"You're acting like a child." 

Dabi blows a raspberry at him to prove his point, flicking him off as he does. But Shigaraki closes the laptop and shifts their conversation to the much more comfortable topic of work, and he hopes that means this discussion is over. 

///

It's two days later, very deliberately when Shigaraki has his own appointment with the doctor, that Dabi hears the thump of a package being delivered outside of his door. He hesitates before he climbs out of his nest, feeling like even just the distance between his nest and the door is too exposed. Still. It might be groceries, so he has to get out of the nest and he makes himself go over to it, poking his head  out and seeing a large box. He pulls it into his room and closes the door swiftly, finding a knife to cut open the tape. He chitters happily when he pulls out another new blanket for his nest, but removing that lets him see some of the other boxes beneath it. On top is a heating pad in a long flat box and beside that is another that happily proclaims that it is an eight inch dildo with an insertable knot in 'glacier blue' that comes with an attachable suction cup or pillow strap base. 100% silicone and body safe. 

Dabi lets out a humiliated keen. 

///

It takes him about an hour, but he eventually forces himself to take everything out of the box and sees that Shig did get him plenty of the heat smoothies that he loads into the fridge until they're needed, along with some quirk suppression cuffs, and special cleaner for the dildo to get it sanitized and ready for use. He really doesn't want to use that, doesn't want to take the dildo out of the box, but he's so morbidly curious about what a knot even looks like, given he hasn't ever even seen one before, that he can't help opening up the packaging. The garish box makes way for bubble plastic and a silky black bag to put the toy inside after use, and an entire booklet of warning and safety tips. He is genuinely worried he's going to need those quirk cuffs if he keeps getting any more overheated from his embarrassment, but he proceeds anyway and opens up the second layer of packaging and gets his eyes on the toy. 

Eight inches is a lot bigger than he thought it was. Dabi lets out another miserable keen. The dildo looks very realistic-- other than the fact it is the neon blue of the packaging, of his quirk, but the head looks like a real cock, and the shaft is detailed with thick winding veins that go down to the last three inches of the toy and then abruptly swells with two bulbous shapes on either side, changing the shape drastically from his own cock and making him a little dizzy. How the fuck is he supposed to get this inside of him? Dabi would have a better chance of shoving an orange up his ass. He is still staring at the thing, completely intimidated, before he hears Duster's soft knock before he lets himself in, the same way he has been for weeks now. 

Dabi looks up at him, not knowing at all what his expression might be saying, but at least Shigaraki immediately loses any words as well as he sees the neon toy in his hand as the door shuts softly behind him. 

"You're a fucking pervert!" He throws the dildo at the other and then darts down into his nest, grabbing one of the pillows that is saturated with Shigaraki's scent and pulling it close to his chest, like that can comfort him. Duster's smell is comforting, even if he has half a mind to kill him for this humiliation. He doesn't hear the thunk of the toy hitting the other or the floor which means that it's probably dust now if he caught it, and Dabi doesn't know if he's glad to be rid of it, or if he really shouldn't have done that. Shigaraki is trying to help take care of him. He's not supposed to be an ungrateful brat about that. 

But Duster moves towards his nest and he sees his shadow as it falls across the front flap of the entryway. "Why are you upset, firefly?" Shig's voice is gentle and patient and the pet name makes Dabi's cheeks feel even warmer. 

"I don't want heat toys." 

"Can you explain why not?"

It's so hard to try and think straight through the high whine of panic that feels like it's going through his head, but after a minute Dabi forces himself to start talking.

"I don't want to have to use those. I don't want to be helpless for a week, in pain, and vulnerable. I don't want to be out of control again. I-- I don't want to get pregnant, I don't want to be claimed, I don't want someone to hurt me like-- like my mom." He can taste smoke on the back of his tongue, hates how weak he already sounds, "I don't want to be an omega." 

Shigaraki is quiet for a long moment as he processes Dabi's latest fucking breakdown, but when he does start to speak, he lets out a soft sigh first. "Dabi, you know that you can't change that." 

"Fuck you." He also knows he's being over-emotional, but he doesn't actually want to hear that right now. 

"You can't, firefly. This is something you're going to have to deal with for the rest of your life. But you won't be in pain forever," he keeps his tone low, though that doesn't impart as much gentleness as Dabi might have expected. "It will only be as your glands wake up for the first time. You won't be helpless. The cuffs I got you can be taken off whenever you want to, and they can't be locked. If anyone tries to hurt you, no matter how deeply you're in your heat, you'll be able to set them on fire, Dabi. Your heat is going to make you extremely, extremely horny, but it's not like what people say about being 'out of control'." Shig promises. "You won't completely forget where you are or get so mentally fatigued you lose your sense of self-- not unless you're completely dehydrated, and that's not going to happen because you're going to have your full fridge of smoothies to drink while you're in heat. The doctor told you that you can't get pregnant, and if you're still scared about it, a silicone toy won't be able to do that for you anyway, Dabi." 

There's a small pause and then he goes on, "I don't know what happened with your mother," and if there is a verbal signpost for 'and I don't want to touch that with a ten foot pole', Shigaraki is waving it, "But as long as you're here, you are not going to be claimed by anyone unless you change your mind and decide you want that. You're going to have your heat in here, in your nice, safe room, with the locks on your door, and everything you need so that you don't have to worry about anything but making yourself feel good. By the time you're finished, you're going to feel so good, and I'm going to let you use Kurogiri as your personal errand boy and let you send him off to get you anything you want as you recover. You won't have to see anyone until you're ready to be a pain in everyone else's ass again-- and especially mine." 

Dabi doesn't say anything for a long moment after he stops speaking, but when he does, he's still got his face half-buried in the pillow. "You're a bastard." 

"Why?" 

"You just called me irrational for like five minutes straight instead of being even vaguely sympathetic, and you completely shot me down while doing it like I wouldn't notice." 

Shigaraki snorts and seems to think his petulance means that he's not likely to get kicked out again, and he pulls half of the sheet aside so that he can start to crawl into the nest to join him. "I can be sympathetic if you want me to be, but you know you're being irrational." Dabi's face goes hot again when he sees that Shig is holding the dildo. "I wasn't shooting you down, firefly. I'll stay and help if you want me to, but I want you to have explored all of your options first. I don't want you to ask me and regret it." He didn't dust it by accident, and as he crawls up to him, Dabi hides his face in the pillow to block him and it from his sight. 

"And you bought me a dildo that I won't ever be able to use!" He hears the toy thump into the blankets and Shig chuckles softly before he's carefully catching Dabi's wrists. He pulls a bit, but Dabi holds the pillow tighter. He'll smother himself with it if it means that he won't have to look at him right now.

When he won't let up with the pillow, Shig gives up on it, and just presses a kiss to the top of his head instead. "Why not, Dabi? Even if we do spend your heat together, if my rut doesn't trigger during it, you'll still need something inside when I can't give it to you." 

Dabi didn't really think of that, but he isn't about to say that. Besides, it doesn't address his biggest gripe about the toy, namely, "It's huge! Knot aside, eight inches of anything is not going inside of me!" 

He's not expecting for his outburst to be met with a sudden shift in Shigaraki's scent. Something that he's never smelled off of the other man before and that surprises him so much that he immediately forgets his stubbornness and looks up to see Shigaraki's face. His eyes are a little wide, his mouth parted in slight surprise, and embarrassment is spilling from his pores. 

Dabi's brain comes to a screeching stop and neither of them say anything for a handful of agonizing seconds. 

"Wh-- D-Did you get that because--?" Dabi's eyes flick down, but at this angle, he can't really get his eyes on Duster's crotch. "No. No. You wear skinny jeans all the time. You couldn't possibly--" 

"I thought," And Duster's voice is a little higher, a little more breathless, "that would be a good warm-up. But we can get you something smaller if you'd prefer." 

"'Warm-up'?!" 

///

It is devastating in such a particular way to learn that Shigaraki apparently has a monster cock that Dabi is going to have such a hard time of dealing with that the other man thought he would need something to practice on even when his body was going to be absolutely gushing for it, but they don't actually linger on it for too much longer that night. They eat, and they talk about other distracting things, and pretend that they aren't both embarrassed about the way they are fumbling towards... sleeping together. 

But Shigaraki has decided that embarrassment is the enemy by the next night, rather than the natural next step in this whole situation, and comes to Dabi's room with determination, a bottle of whiskey and a six pack of soju, and his laptop, not even blinking when he asks, "How much sex ed have you had?" 

Dabi almost immediately overheats from the instantaneous spike of adrenaline. 

Shig won't be dissuaded though, and once they've had dinner and are settled into their nest, he queues up the first video that he's downloaded for them to watch. 

Dabi isn't expecting the video to be almost presented like a nature documentary, though it's all animations with a soothing female voice narrating. It starts at the very beginning, stating that all humans start as betas in the womb, but that just like their primary sexes, another set of genes gets activated resulting in alphas and omegas, and if those genes aren't activated, then betas are born. Alphas and omegas are both recessive traits that have a complex presentation that crosses over a couple of different gene markers like eye color and hair do, which can result in them being much less common than betas, who don't have any of those genes to turn on or off. That's also why it's so rare for alphas and omegas to be born from two betas having pups unless they have an alpha or omega ancestor. 

The video goes on from there, describing that the early markers for their designations are in their DNA from early in their development, but that they can't be judged by anything but medical testing from when they're born until they hit puberty, despite common superstitions. During puberty, the genes turn on again as the pituitary gland activates the pup's primary puberty. When that activates for male alphas, it means they develop their ability to knot, while female alphas will find what appeared to be their clitorus lengthening, which is actually their penis pushing out of their body. Their testes stay internal, which can make it harder for them to produce healthy sperm, but they also should, unless there's a medical problem, have a working uterus as well which allows them two avenues for their fertility. That's interesting, if nothing else, but when the section about omegas starts to play, he does his best to not sit up straighter as he listens. 

Female omegas have larger glands along their vagina than a beta or alpha female that help them with the extreme production of slick, as well as a secondary set of muscles inside of their vaginal opening that allow them to 'lock' a knot inside, helping to ensure a higher chance of impregnation within a single mating session. Male omegas don't have a typical vaginal structure, they have something like a cloaca, with the slick glands in their anus along with the additional muscles for locking in a knot. But when those glands start to swell to produce slick, some weird skin flap that the video compares to the thing that closes the esophagus and trachea when eating, closes off the actual rectum, ensuring waste can't be pushed into their vaginal canal when they're being mated. 

The video goes on from there, explaining how when an alpha goes into rut, they will grow more sensitive to smells, more restless, and more aggressive with other alphas, or anyone who seems like a threat to the idea of them getting a mate. Omegas, on the other hand, start to have anxiety about their environment, and will instinctively seek out comfort, food, and the companionship of those they trust, to help take care of them when they're in their heat. It's apparently not uncommon for omegas to gather for their heats at times, creating a large group nest if they don't have mates to take care of them, and then spending their cycles together, taking care of one another, male omegas even producing sterile heat fluid instead of semen. A good heat, one where the omega has the supplies they need, if they've been eating, staying healthy, and feel safe, won't be the agony that Dabi has thought of it all of his life. His mom wasn't safe at all, she definitely wasn't healthy when she was so stressed out of her mind he remembers her leaving frost on everything that she touched. She had a bad mate. Her heats saturated their house with the scent of her pain and misery-- though that was under Enji's possessiveness and determination. 

The video finishes, and Shig finally cracks open the bottle of whisky, having refused to let him start drinking until he watched the video. 

"Questions?" He asks, seeming to still refuse to be bothered as Dabi happily takes the drink and doesn't bother to sip at it and enjoy the flavor, just wanting the burn of something that isn't his blush. 

But he doesn't get a refill until he's managed to mumble, "Not really about the... biological stuff. That was... pretty thorough." 

"So what about the non-biological stuff?" 

Dabi is definitely blushing hot enough that it's probably visible even through his scars. "I don't know. I guess what it's actually like?" When it's not awful, "What's your rut like? Have you been with an omega on it before?" He wouldn't have had the balls to ask that a month ago, but Shigaraki is the one insisting they do this whole song and dance instead of just letting Dabi get overwhelmed when his heat triggers and go from there. 

"I am territorial, I get more irritable, the itching under my skin gets," he winces slightly, "really bad until my cycle actually starts. The first few times, I didn't have anyone around, and I didn't have any toys, and I felt like I was going to stroke myself raw. Later on I got a couple of things that made it easier for me to deal with in the periods of time when I wasn't consumed with my lust." He hesitates for a second, "I have had two of my ruts with an omega." 

Dabi waits, but more details don't seem to be forthcoming. "C'mon, Duster, you can't leave me hanging. Was omega pussy not all that it was chalked up to be?" Maybe that's why he's being so dodgy about this. Maybe he doesn't want to spend Dabi's heat with him. Maybe he doesn't... want him.

"She was fine. During our cycles, I would say she was exactly what I needed, but I didn't know her very well, and I was glad to be rid of her when our cycles were over. I only shared my cycle with her because I needed to lower the scent of my hormones so that I would be able to make my debut at UA and have the scent patches actually work."

"Oh." Dabi hasn't ever heard of an alpha or beta using scent patches. Normally omega use those so that they can pass as betas, because omegas are still often thought of as nothing more than baby making devices. With the patches, they can pass as betas. "Okay, sorry for pushing, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"It's fine, Dabi. It's just not something I can give you a lot of details about. Sex, especially on my cycle, is good. I enjoyed it, she seemed to as well, but it really wasn't that different from sex in general, it was just a lot more frequent and longer than usual. Whatever you're used to, it will be like that, just heightened." He hesitates, "You were upset about the dildo," Dabi blushes and pours himself a new glass. "Have you... never tried anal before?"

Dabi is glad he's pouring because it means that he doesn't have to look up when he admits, "Never tried... anything before, Duster. Think my hormones were too fucked up to let me have a sex drive." He's sure he's going to burn his ears the rest of the way off from how hot they are, "Never even touched myself before."

He doesn't know if he was really expecting mockery. Shig has been really, really good about not mocking him about any of his inexperience and not asking about why he's so fucked up. But he doesn’t think he was expecting the other's natural spicy scent to go so much hotter and roll out through the air in their nest and send a different kind of warmth under his skin. Dabi nearly fumbles the bottle as he looks up and finds red eyes boring into him.

It takes him a second to find his tongue and croak out, "Oh my fucking god, you are such a pervert."

Shig has the good grace to look a little chastised, trying to reign in the way Dabi's admission spiked his arousal so completely. "It's just... very flattering that you would ask me to be your first."

"Yeah, super flattering, so flattering that you finally smell excited about getting to stick your enormous dick in my ass. I can't believe that you have a virginity fetish. You're a weird reclusive gamer. You're supposed to be the virgin!" Dabi huffs.

"Is that so?" Duster doesn't bother to keep the amusement out of his voice.

"Yes." He refuses to look at him, actually taking his second drink a bit more slowly, trying to pretend he doesn't feel a little dizzy from how good he smelled when he was getting hot, and like that smell isn't sitting in their nest all around them. He doesn't want to embarrass himself anymore.

"Are you just going to pout for the rest of the night, firefly?"

Dabi doesn't answer, obstinance the only path forward for his dignity.

"...Do you want to watch some other... unconventionally educational videos about shared cycles?"

"What the fuck does 'unconventionally educational' mean, Shigaraki?" Dabi asks. The other doesn't offer up an answer immediately and Dabi puts the pieces together, "Porn?! Are you asking me if I want to watch porn with you?"

"You asked me to spend your first heat with you and what it would be like. I'm not saying that all porn is realistic, but porn with actual actors on their cycles is much more realistic than anything else. Because instincts are so high, they can't have a crew on set, they just hunker down, turn on the lights and cameras, and do their thing for their cycles, and then it gets cut down to the hottest parts in the editing room. But that might help you get a better idea of what it looks like from an omega's perspective when it happens." 

"You just have an answer for fucking everything, don't you?" 

"If I didn't try, you wouldn't want to follow me , would you?" 

Dabi wants to light him on fire. But that would mean burning up their nest that is so cozy and smells so good with the lingering threads of Shigaraki's arousal in it. So Dabi drinks his second glass, and then curls up more snuggly in the pillows and blankets. "Fine." 

He barely keeps himself from giving Shigaraki so much shit when he doesn't have to go searching up this kind of content, instead just navigating over to his saved files. 

///

They watch three videos. The first is with a male alpha and female omega, the second with a female alpha and male omega, and the last with a male alpha and male omega. Each of the videos has a different porn premise attached to it that Dabi is extremely embarrassed over, the first being a repair person who wanders into the house because the omega hit her cycle too fast to cancel, and she all but throws herself at him. She seems to have a very, very good time though. The second is a femdom playing with her sub, with leather, latex, whips, and chains all in play in addition to their cycles. And the final one is about an omega who has gotten in too deep with his loan shark and is offering up his cycle in exchange for a clean slate. Dabi learns two things from these videos: One, Shigaraki is absolutely a massive kinky pervert whose brain is totally rotted from porn because he doesn't even smell hot while they're watching these together. And two, that... it will be different than he thought it would be. Because the actors remember that they're actors even when they're in their cycles. Their movements get a little sloppy, the cameras having a hard time finding good angles sometimes because they forget that they don't have a crew or director to move the cameras, but they never forget the scenario when they're spouting off their dirty talk. 

Seeing that he won't be completely gone or catatonic the way his mother had always seemed before she went into rut and after she came out of it, means that watching all of these was worth it in the end. It's a relief that he doesn't really even have words for when they finish. He'll still be him in his heat. Duster will still be himself if he goes on his rut too. They're still not finished with the last video, but Dabi uncurls himself from the nest and reaches for Tomura's sleeve. 

Shig blinks, turning to him immediately, "Is it too much, firefly? 

He shakes his head weakly, feeling his embarrassment make his temperature rise again. He pulls on his sleeve a little more insistently and Shig gets the picture, turning his body more towards him, and Dabi leans in. Duster wraps his hand around the back of his neck again, touch always so light and careful, and pulls him in for the kiss he wanted. 

The kisses they shared before were soft and slow, and this one is definitely both of those things, but it's different this time. Because this time, there is a spark that is coursing beneath it. Something that makes Dabi's skin tingle before he's even started to open his mouth for it. And when Tomura's tongue slips inside, Dabi can't help it. He loses control of his scent the way Shig had earlier, and even though his glands are extremely damaged across his neck and wrists, he's only wearing thin sleep pants, and the faint sugary smell of his arousal starts to fill the space between them. He's about to pull away and make some kind of excuse, he doesn't even know why he would do that when they are... something. Definitely having serious conversations about fucking as soon as his heat hits at the very least. Being aroused with him shouldn't embarrass him, and when Tomura's scent starts to get hotter in response, Dabi's relief is immeasurable. 

Tomura knows what he's doing, so he takes charge of the kiss as the sound of the couple fucking spills through the speakers. He licks inside of Dabi's mouth and shows him how that can feel good. He encourages him to tilt his head, to move his lips, to use his own tongue, nervous as he tries to mimic the movements. He doesn't know if he's doing well or if his inexperience is what's making this hotter for Tomura, but he stays smelling warm with his arousal as he kisses Dabi again and again until it's Dabi pulling back with a soft gasp before his teeth are clenching down to keep any other sound out of his mouth. 

There's a deep, unfamiliar ache that is starting in his pelvis and it sours his scent with pain. 

Shig pauses and looks at him, confused. "Are you alright, baby?" 

"I-- I think," he swallows his pride. They were barely making out. "I think my glands are trying to work." 

Tomura blinks, and then his whole expression brightens. "That's good, firefly." 

"Tell that to my fucking nerve endings." 

Tomura has the gall to laugh, but then he moves to press another kiss to his forehead and pause the video. "I'll get you some pain medicine and your heating pad. If it goes away, then you're not in pre-heat yet." 

"And if I am?" 

"Then I'll stay with you, if that's still what you want, Dabi." 

He makes himself meet his eyes. "Okay." It's easier to say that than so bluntly admit to him that's all that he wants. Shigaraki has been with him through every step of him trying to get healthy. He's... the only person Dabi has ever trusted like this. He knows that he'll take care of him and make sure that he feels good. He believes him when he says that he'll be a perfect alpha for him just to prove that he's worthy of everything Dabi has chosen to trust him with. 

And he thinks the other knows him well enough to infer all of that from the simple answer. It earns him another kiss against his forehead and then Shig confiscates the alcohol and gets out of their nest. When he comes back, it's with one of his water bottles from the fridge, the heating pad, and some medicine, and he stays with Dabi as the pad heats and medicine kicks in. 

The ache goes away after about half an hour, but Shig stays for at least a little longer than that, with Dabi curled up against his side, his arm wrapped around him, and tracing the patterns of his scars over his shoulder. He must stay for a little while because he lingers long enough that Dabi falls asleep and can't remember being moved. 

///

Dabi wakes up with sweat soaking his skin, and the pain from the night before so, so much more intense than it was then. Intense enough that Dabi lets out a pitiful whimper and immediately fumbles to turn on the heating pad again, even though it's already sweltering in the enclosed canopy of their nest. Their nest. His and his alpha's. Dabi whines softly, looking around. Tomura isn't here. He doesn't usually stay the night, he knows that, knows that he always comes to see him early in the morning, but he wants him now. 

Okay, well, if he has to wait for him, he can at least fix their nest. Dabi liked being closed inside of the fort, but it's far, far too hot for that now, and the blankets and pillows are a mess. He takes down the overhead sheet, opening up the nest to the cool air of the rest of the room, and then he starts to shift things around. He lays out the waterproof blankets just over the round futon that makes up the base of the nest, to keep it clean, and then he starts to push the pillows around, building up an edge around each part of the bed until there is a rim around the entire thing that makes it feel secure. Dabi feels a tickle in his throat and tries to cough it away, but it persists, and as he lets out the next slow breath, his whole chest starts to hum softly. It takes him a second to realize that despite the discomfort in his pelvis, he's purring as he puts all of the super soft downy blankets Tomura got for him back into the nest. The blankets smell like them too, and as much as Dabi just wants to curl up in the mound with his face in those, he knows that he has to keep being good if he wants to retain permission to go out on the League's debut. 

So Dabi crawls over to the minifridge, really not trusting his legs to not shake badly if he were to try and walk there instead. He doesn't feel hungry, he's just hot, hurting, and anxious. Doesn't matter. He has to be good and make sure he eats something. He usually waits to have breakfast with Tomura, but he wants his alpha to make him feel better, and he will always prioritize making sure that his physical needs are met first. So Dabi takes one of the heat smoothies, something that he can have cold, and something he won't have to worry about having to prepare in any way. Tomura got him the fruity kind instead of the artificially sweet ones and Dabi likes it a lot more than his nutrient shakes. He drinks it quickly, liking the way the chill settles in his stomach, and then refilling his water bottle from the little pitcher in the fridge before he gets the pain meds from the night before and crawls back over to his nest. He turns on the heating pad even though he's already a little too warm, and takes the pills. It's with some hesitation, but he digs out the quirk cuffs from the 'heat box' and puts those on, allowing his temperature to lower enough he doesn't think he'll bake himself alive curling up tight in the blankets with the heating pad until Tomura comes in.

He pulls the blanket that the other man had been laying on the night before right up to his nose. His smell is so good. All that hot spice of an alpha, but the calm pulse of rain going over it all. It's so... reassuring. Tomura has made himself kinder, softer, more responsible for him. He's been spending every day with him despite all of his own work just to make sure that he's alright. He's embarrassed him a lot, but all because he wants him to feel better. Because he... believes he's worth the time. He didn't just throw him away when he needed that help to be everything that he thought he would be when he hired him. He cares about him. Dabi doesn't know if he's had someone who has done that since he was a child. 

It takes another half an hour before Shig knocks on his door and steps inside, and as soon as he does, Dabi is squirming because the discomfort and anxiety switch abruptly to a sharper pain and an overwhelming pulse of heat that goes through his body and tells him that yeah, this really is happening. It's not just a little pang like the night before. He's going into his heat. 

Not even twenty-four hours ago, that prospect terrified him. Now Dabi starts to purr loudly as soon as Tomura takes a step into the room. The pain is more intense, but that's okay because it means his body is doing its best to try and get itself ready to help make both he and his alpha feel good. 

"Tomura," he whines, trying to push himself up in the nest, wanting to bring him closer as fast as possible, even if that means trying to put weight on his shaky legs. 

"Oh, firefly, don't move--" He throws the lock shut and slips out of his shoes at the door, before crossing the room and immediately kneeling down at the edge of the nest. But he doesn't come into it right away. 

"Duster," he sounds more petulant this time, reaching for him again. 

"I know," he says placatingly, "but are you sure--" 

"Get in here and show me how this is supposed to feel good or I'm going to set you on fire!" 

Tomura laughs at him again and reaches into his back pocket, taking out a set of leather gloves with the index finger cut out of them, and slips those on before he climbs into the nest with him. "Okay, baby boy, don't be cranky." He pulses out the smell of his contentment, and Dabi whimpers as that pain gets a little bit sharper and makes him squirm as his legs press together instinctively. That hurts, but the rest of his body is starting to feel tingly, and the smell of Tomura's happiness makes him a little light-headed. He wants his alpha happy. It means that he did a good job remaking their nest. And Tomura doesn't just stop by reassuring him with his scent, he also gathers Dabi close and nuzzles along his shoulder, dragging his nose up the side of Dabi's neck as he holds him, and murmurs, "You did such a good job getting everything ready, Dabi. I promise I'm going to take care of you just as well." He rubs his scent into Dabi's skin and all of the sudden that pain inside of him snaps. 

Dabi lets out an animal keen that he didn't even know he could make as the pain disappears and instead his system is absolutely flooded with the arousal that he thought he should be expecting as an omega in heat. He feels his slick pulse hot down his legs and soak through his pajama bottoms immediately as his cock hardens to the point of aching in a matter of seconds. Holy fucking shit. Dabi doesn't think he's ever felt arousal like this-- no, he's positive that he hasn't. That this is the most intense form of need that has ever been pushed through his body. That he wants to be touched right now, more than he'd even wanted to stop burning in the moments before he'd died. Dabi tangles his hands in Shig's hair, feeling how soft and thick it is, and pulls his face up from his neck so that he can crash their mouths together. 

Tomura's scent is going thicker in the air, even as he lets out another breath of laughter against his lips, which is why Dabi doesn't bite him hard enough to draw blood as he tries to get his tongue into his mouth the way it was last night. His alpha chuffs at him softly, and his hands, made gentle to protect him, are wrapped around his body, pulling him closer even though Dabi is making such a gross mess as the slick smears all over his skin. Dabi saw how much those other omega's could produce, he knew that people called omega's on their heats a 'slip 'n slide', but he had still half thought that it was a figure of speech. He understands just how sincere those things were now as he feels his pajama bottoms clinging to his legs as every drag of Tomura's tongue behind his teeth has a fresh bit of his slick leaking out of his hole with no signs of stopping. Dabi is pretty sure he won't stop until Tomura has his knot sunk deep inside of him and he's full of his cum. 

He doesn't think that last night he was thinking about how good his alpha tastes, but underneath the flavor of his toothpaste, he can find traces of his scent lingering on his tongue, and Dabi would give up breathing entirely if he could just keep licking out that flavor from his mouth. Dabi lets out a moan loudly enough he's a little worried about how thick the walls are as Tomura makes him part, but consoles him by licking across the seam of his chin and nipping at his jawline like his scars aren't even there. Dabi is pretty sure he should be bitching at the other for being gross, but instead the thought of being tasted, of being claimed by the alpha is making him even harder. It's a surprise to him when he realizes that his legs aren't clenched tight together anymore to try to smother the pain of his glands, and instead he's opened them up. That he's wrapped them around Tomura's thigh so that he can rub himself against his leg, his cock aching and leaking almost as badly as his hole as he tries his best to get the other to keep making him feel good. 

Tomura lets out a growl that he's never heard before, a sound so deep and low that it vibrates through Dabi's body and leaves him gasping out another moan. "That's it, baby boy," his voice rumbles against his skin as he noses at his neck, licking at the place where his scent gland should be burned away and making Dabi moan again. He is pretty sure he didn't want to be claimed, but when Tomura gives a gentle nibble against that place, Dabi gets dizzy from how good that it feels. Shig's hands wrap around his hips and he coaxes Dabi's hips into moving against his leg. "I want you to feel so good, firefly. Show me what you like." 

Dabi feels dizzy from how thickly their smells are swirling around the air between them and he's pretty sure that he should just push down his pants so that he can fist his hand around his cock, but he doesn't want to stop clinging to Tomura. Like if he lets go of him, the alpha might abandon him even though he's being swaddled in the reassuring scent of his arousal. But it feels so good to rub himself against Shigaraki's thigh. He's more solidly muscular underneath his jeans, and the thick denim is giving him a tantalizing texture even through his pajama bottoms. He ruts his hips up against his leg again and moans, dropping his head back against the pillows. Tomura chuffs with his approval, leaning over him and grinding his thigh up between Dabi's legs more deliberately, putting more of that wonderful friction against his body. 

"That's it, beautiful. You can have anything that you want. Just let me make your body feel good." 

He's pretty sure that if he weren't plunging deeper and deeper into his heat, he might have protested. He might have been embarrassed over how much of an absolute mess he already is, but it's hard to care about anything else than how good his body is feeling and how nice it is that his alpha is being so sweet and gentle with him. Tomura presses his neck to Dabi's as he lets him move his hips more and more frantically against his leg. The touch of their skin there bleeds out across their entire nest and somehow sparks pleasure behind his eyes like a firework nearly as bright as the actual friction that he's getting against his dick. The way that their scents tangle makes the whole room smell like completeness. He's not alone. He's not hurting. He's with his alpha, and he's going to be safe, cared for, he's going to get to feel good for the first time in his life, and he doesn't have to be scared. He's not going to be abandoned. 

Those thoughts, possibly more than anything else, are what allow Dabi to let go of the last lingering threads of stress in his body and let him sink deeper into the hazy warmth of his heat. He ruts his hips harder and faster, until even just one more little twitch is enough for him to feel his orgasm washing through him for the first time in his life. It isn't like the way that he expected it to be. He thinks that he expected him to feel like he was going to ignite again, and maybe he would have if he didn't have the suppression cuffs tight around his wrists, but instead what he notes is that the pressure growing along his length makes his balls draw up tight to his base like if he were cold, so tense and feeling so full that he's not surprised that he can't keep it all inside. And at the moment of release, his entire cock feels like it's pulsing the sharpest pleasure he's ever felt along each inch of him. It makes the muscles of his thighs shake and fall slack as he feels the forceful ejaculation spill all over the front of his pajama bottoms in ropes that almost ache as he feels each spurt of his cum release from his body. Dabi is breathless from how good it feels, and it takes him a long moment to realize that he's moaning so loudly that his voice cracks as the sound rattles out of his throat. 

"Fuck, that's it, Dabi. You're so cute, little omega," his tone is so teasing, but he can't even protest it when being called that has him letting out a little chirpy noise of bliss. He's the omega. He's the one who's being cute. No one has ever called him cute before. No one has ever helped his body feel good like this before. "And you smell so good." Dabi isn't sure that he's been paying attention to anything but how good Tomura smells, but he does try to find his own scent in the tangled mix of them. He normally doesn't think that he smells like anything other than smoke and burning, but now he can smell himself. There is an overwhelming sweetness coming off of his skin, something that reminds him of caramel, though there is still a little tang of burning in it. The edge of his fire that darkens the smell with a touch of his smoke. He doesn't think it smells that good, but he doesn't really like sweets anyway. "Let me get you out of those wet clothes, baby." 

Dabi is reluctant for it, only because it means that he, apparently, has to let go of Tomura. But his alpha makes it an easier thing to do by making sure he's laying against the nice warm nest, and presses kisses to his lips and across his face, letting out his own deeper, satisfied purr as he does it. Tomura leans back and pulls away his own shirt, his skin, Dabi notices distantly, starting to get warm for the first time against his own. His body is always so cool to the touch, but he likes this a lot. It makes it feel like he's actually seeping into the other's skin. Then he reaches for Dabi's soaked pajama bottoms and Dabi trembles as he makes his soupy muscles work to lift his hips enough for Tomura to pull the fabric off of his legs. 

When he's naked, Dabi is still feeling off-balance, but he tries to push himself up so that he can roll over. Tomura pauses him with his hand against his chest, eyes roaming over Dabi's body like he wants to eat him alive. "Where are you going, firefly? Do you want to stop?" 

Dabi whimpers. He doesn't want that at all. Not when his cock is still just as hard as it was before his entire length was dripping with his cum. His insides feel like they're coiling tighter and tighter, desperately searching for a knot to hold on to. "No, alpha," he doesn't think that's what he meant to call Tomura, but the word slips off his tongue before he can stop it. It doesn't seem like it's a bad thing though. The other man gives another one of those low chuffs of approval and Dabi swallows whatever's left of his pride and keeps going. "...I was going to present," he feels his cheeks go a little hotter. "The way all of the omegas in the... videos did." 

"Oh, precious," Tomura leans in and nuzzles their noses together before peppering his hot face with kisses. "You don't have to do that unless you want to. I would be perfectly happy for you to stay just like this so that I can see how cute your face is when I have you cumming on my knot." 

Dabi lets out a whine that is nothing but humiliation as that has his hole clenching needily and sending a fresh pulse of slick down his thighs. "Need it, Tomura. I-It hurts." He thought he was supposed to stop hurting once he got so hot, but he feels miserable as he waits to get more. 

"I'm sorry, firefly, I'll help you feel better." He promises, his eyes dragging down his body. His hands follow the path of his eyes, tracing over his shoulders, down his chest and rubbing his thumbs over his nipples. The feeling of the soft leather against his skin makes him moan again. His nipples are already more sensitive from his piercings, but the way that they feel now is far more sensitive than they ever have been before, and Dabi finds himself moaning and arching into each touch. Tomura starts to let out a continuous, deep purr as he touches him, hands moving away far too soon so that he can bring them down along Dabi's stomach, one dipping between his legs, and one covered finger, and one uncovered, running up his aching cock, and smearing through his cum. "Never been touched before, but you couldn't help decorating your pretty cock just like the rest of you, could you, baby boy?" 

Dabi can't form a coherent sentence to answer him, he's too busy spreading his legs even wider and scratching his nails up Shigaraki's back. Tomura wraps his hand around his cock and gives him a stroke from root to tip, his length already so soaked that his glove glides across his skin and sends fresh pleasure going through his body. His hand doesn't stay there either though, and Dabi is about to beg for it back, before he sees that Tomura's eyes are starting to glow from how high his instincts are going. And then his hand is moving down, knuckles rubbing against his balls, and then pushing back-- 

He can't believe that just having Tomura's fingers rubbing against his hole can feel almost as good as it did to ride his thigh. "Alpha!" 

It gets him another growl, Shig's scent going hot and him moving his hand to the back of Dabi's thigh, holding his legs open as wide as they can go, and then grinding his still clothed cock against his hole. Just that pressure there has Dabi mewling, his breath hitching in his throat. "You were so nervous before, little one." Tomura's voice sounds deeper, richer in some way that Dabi doesn't quite understand, but that makes his own instincts feel like they're about to go insane. He wants to have him, wants to have more, but he doesn't know how to get it. "Are you ready to feel what your body was made for now?" 

Yes, yes, that's exactly what he wants. "Please, alpha," he pulls at Shig's shoulders, trying to get him to lean in again. He'd give him his mouth, his throat, every inch of his body if he brings him through this the way he promised to. 

Tomura kisses him again, but Dabi is sure he's doing it mostly to distract him from immediately protesting when his hips move away from his own again. But the kiss is good, beyond that, because his alpha's fangs have dropped, and Dabi realizes what that rumble in his voice must have been. The edge of command that he was trying to keep at bay as Tomura starts to fall into his rut right alongside Dabi's heat. He can't help but chirping and purring, wrapping his arms around his neck and arching up against his body to show his pleasure as his alpha proves exactly how badly he wants him as his hormones rush to meet Dabi's own. 

The other moves over him for a second and then there's the sound of heavier fabric hitting their nest before Tomura is lowering his hips back between Dabi's legs again. His hands curl around his hips and he angles Dabi's body up a bit more so that he can rub the hot head of his cock through his slick and between his cheeks, before teasing against Dabi's hole. Whatever thread of sense was left in him frays apart in his hand at that feeling. Tomura is big. Anything is big against his hole that hasn't ever had something trying to push inside, and he is breathless as the worry that it won't fit comes rushing back. But the wave of lust that follows immediately on its heels drags him under the tide and makes him delirious. 

Whatever tangled scent he's putting out, the tiny whimper that slips from his throat, has his alpha chuffing and nuzzling against his cheek. He licks his skin and that helps to soothe his anxiety a bit. "It's alright, firefly, do you want to start slower?" He shifts to get his hand back between them, bringing his fingers against his hole again which is definitely less intimidating, but not at all what his body wants. "Can open you up just like this. Have you bounce on your pretty toy until you're desperate to be full of my cum." 

His instincts are screaming against his nerves, telling him that he wants that, not to be stuffed up with some toy. He wants his alpha's knot. He wants Tomura to be the first person he has inside of him. He wants to be good for his alpha and help him through his rut the way he promised he would help Dabi through his heat. The way he's been helping Dabi ever since he got here. It's so hard for him to find his words, but he has to manage it if he wants to do any of that. "Just want you, Tomu." His voice is weak and breathless, the need pulsing under his skin like a second heartbeat. 

"Yeah?" There's no mistaking the possessive, pleased rumble in Tomura's voice as he says that. "Okay, baby boy, do you want me to help you relax? It will make it easier." He asks, nosing at his skin and scenting him as many times and ways that he can as he moves so his cock can rub against his hole again. He teases around his rim, both of their skin getting even more soaked as he does so, because Dabi's body is so close to getting what he needs and he can barely string together a coherent thought in his head. He doesn't manage to make a coherent word, just whining high in the back of his throat as he nods his head frantically, holding tight onto the other as he tentatively grinds his hips back so that he can feel him a little more as well. Tomura gives him another slow, deep kiss, and then he breathes, his eyes glowing so bright as they look into his, "Relax."

Dabi's muscles go so weak. He didn't even realize how much he was holding back, but he barely can keep his hands over the other's shoulders, and his legs fall open as wide as they can. There's a fresh gush of slick pouring into their nest as those internal muscles finally loosen from the perpetual tautness that has been plaguing him since he woke up this morning. He lets out a low breath and starts to purrs softly as Tomura starts to press inside. 

He is big. He's so big, and his head is blunt, and he surely can't actually be made to fit a knot inside of him the way he saw those other omegas take it. But his body is helpless to try and tense as Tomura rubs against him a few more times, each rock of his hips teasing him with a little more pressure until his hole is being forced wider around him. 

The moment that his head presses inside of him with a soft pop, Dabi sees stars. The pressure of having something inside is beyond anything he's ever felt before, and even just his head is so much and his instincts cry out how good it is. He hasn't ever felt this good in his life. Even his first orgasm can't possibly compare to how wonderful he feels having his alpha starting to open up his body and push inside. Tomura chuffs and licks at his neck, telling Dabi without words that he's still so safe, that he's not going anywhere, that he's going to keep giving his body this pleasure that he doesn't have words for. He is going to make him feel better and better, until he can't keep it contained anymore and he falls apart completely, and then Tomura will probably keep giving kisses to all of his scattered parts. 

His alpha goes so slowly, pressing in inch by delicious, agonizing inch, and there are so many of those. Dabi didn't get a good look at him, but he would absolutely believe from how blindingly full he's feeling, that he's definitely getting more than eight inches of him. And by the time their hips are flush, they're both panting. Dabi's whole body is shaking, his eyes squeezed tight, some bubble of emotion in his throat that he doesn't have a name for as he's given what he needs. Tomura presses kisses to his face, over his forehead, his eyelids, along his cheeks. He purrs for him in response, and slurs around his own tongue that seems to have gotten heavier with his pleasure and heat, 

"Shh, it's alright, firefly. You're okay. You're doing such a good job, baby. You took me all the way inside your very first time. Your body was made for this, precious. You're perfect." 

Perfect. Dabi hasn't been perfect for such a long time. He thought he didn't believe in perfect anymore. But when Tomura says it, when he manages to open his eyes and look up at him, seeing his hair wild and mussed from how he's been pulling at it, seeing the flush across his cheeks that has finally brought life into his pale skin, his red eyes that are still glowing so brightly as he looks at him with no hesitation, no doubt, only a naked, searing affection-- Dabi can believe it again. Maybe not about him. But Tomura promised he would try to be a perfect alpha for him. Dabi isn't sure what else he could possibly do to prove he is like this. He doesn't know what the fullness behind his ribs is, but it's almost as distracting as the fullness inside of his hole, and the way that his body chooses to deal with the first is by forcing more bloody tears down his cheeks in a soft sob as he clings to Tomura. 

"Alpha," he doesn't have to explain that he's not crying because he's scared, or because he wants to stop. Tomura can feel him, can smell him. He knows what Dabi means and he just starts to purr for him again, even louder, as he licks and kisses the bloody tears off of his cheeks like he doesn't have to be ashamed of his ruined body. He proves to him that he wants him anyway when he rolls his hips into Dabi's, moving his cock inside of him and making every inch of his desperate hole light up with the need to be filled even more. 

"Let me love you slowly the first time," Tomura murmurs against his skin. "And then I'll give you anything else you could ever want for the rest of our cycles, firefly." 

All Dabi can do is give a weak nod, more tears trickling down his cheeks. He doesn't think he's heard anyone use even the vaguest concept of 'love' when it comes to him in over a decade. He'll take as much of it as he can get from the other man right now though. 

Tomura does go slow. He starts just by rolling their hips together in slow, undulating movements, teaching Dabi's body how to move along with them. Each one makes him a little more breathless than the last, the movements warming up his insides, getting them a little more relaxed, and not already clenching onto his cock so tightly when his knot hasn't even started to swell yet. He does it no matter how much he must also be wanting to fuck him hard and knot. He gives it to him gently because he wants Dabi's first heat to be enjoyable more than he wants to make up for the two unremarkable ruts he had before him. But when he's starting to whimper and try to make the soft rhythm a little more impactful, Tomura starts to draw his hips back. He slips a few inches of his cock out of Dabi's body and then rolls his hips again, sinking back inside. And oh! The pressure was good before, the rolling movements were so nice to stretch him open and made his insides feel warm and soft. But the friction of having Tomura's thick cock slide back as deep as it can go, that is delicious. Dabi keens, and the sound hitches on his breath, and then is nothing but a purr as he wraps his legs tight around Tomura's waist so that he can keep having that immediately. 

Tomura kisses his skin so gently, kisses his lips, keeps making sounds that tell Dabi how good he's being for him, how good they're making each other feel. But he keeps their pace slow, like he said he would. He doesn't pound into his hole the way they watched the other alphas do to their omegas in the videos. He just gives him his cock slowly and perfectly over and over again until there is nothing but their pleasure cycling between their bodies. 

Dabi's second orgasm feels so different from his first as it builds in his body. The health video said that the internal stimulation would pull the attention from his cock, and it absolutely has. He's sure he would be complaining about how long he's been so hard if it weren't for the fact that every measured thrust inside of him is turning every muscle in his body into liquid heat as his pleasure builds under his skin until he's sure that he's going to erupt. But he isn't going over the edge. It's like Tomura is holding a lid over that peak, and he is absolutely helpless not to obey and wait for him as he tries to get more. 

He doesn't understand what he was making him to wait for until he starts to feel his hole being forced to stretch a little wider again as he feels his alpha's knot start to swell. "Are you ready, firefly? I want to make you mine so badly. Want to have my spend soaking your insides, want your slick to smell like me for the rest of your cycle. Want to see you crying as you cum on my knot as I push inside." Tomura's voice is so thick with his own arousal, his growls and purrs slurring the words, his fangs glistening, and eyes still ruby red as he speaks. 

Dabi doesn't have words for how badly he wants that too, but his body is able to answer for him, a fresh gush of slick going across his thighs to help open him up even more for his alpha's knot, as he feels a pain in his jaw for the first time as his own fangs drop to show his alpha he doesn't just want his knot, but that he would take his bite as well if he deigns to give it to him. 

Seeing his teeth like that seems to strip away the last little bit of Tomura's measured control. He can't help the snarl he lets out, the sound demanding, possessive, and good instead of frightening. A sound that tells Dabi that he's so completely and deeply wanted that his alpha would kill anyone who might ever be stupid enough to try to take Dabi away from him. He kisses him hard and their fangs click, and their lips bleed, and that tangle of their blood on their tongues might as well be a drug from how high it sends Dabi into the clouds. He doesn't think that he'll ever have words for how perfect he feels like this. Even more perfect when his alpha builds their pace. Dabi holds onto him tighter, meets each one of his harder thrusts that has their bodies making obscene sounds as they move. 

The moment that Tomura's knot forces its way inside of him, swelling completely as he starts to cum, Dabi's nails tear through his back as he arches hard and cums with him. Stars explode through his body, that eruption actually a series of supernovas going through him as his alpha makes him feel so good that Dabi is certain without the cuffs, he would have become a sun from how he feels. His walls clench down so hard on Tomura's length, letting him feel every perfect, pulsing inch of him as he cums so much. Dabi has been soaked practically all morning, but nothing could possibly have prepared him for feeling the way that this does, now that he's being filled with the other's seed instead of just having his slick rush out of him. There's so much of it, it makes him feel blindingly full, and it is so satisfying in a way that his animal mind can't possibly articulate. He just knows that he's supposed to be satisfied. That he's supposed to feel like his purpose has been met and be ready to settle and cuddle for a while until they unlock. 

But Dabi wants it even more, and he's barely noticed that he's spilled his own cum between their bodies for a second time before he's starting to roll his hips again. Tomura chuffs at him, the sound absolutely amused. He can't thrust inside of him the way he was before. Not when he's locked inside. But he can do that good rolling thing that they were doing before. 

"You want more, precious?" 

Dabi manages a nod, and Tomura gets a hand under the small of his back and uses a strength that Dabi didn't know he had to lift him. Tomura lays back in their soiled nest and gets Dabi's knees wide around his hips, pressed into the bedding. "Okay, firefly, find what feels good," he murmurs, his eyes still glowing and his own arousal not fading in the slightest. "If you do a good job, I'll get to fill you up again without even taking my knot out of your pretty hole. Won't that be nice, baby boy? You'll be so full of my cum." He moves his hand to Dabi's lower abdomen, not minding the cum that gets smeared obscenely over his gloves. "Mm, maybe you'll get so full that I'll be able to see it." 

That has no right to make him so blindingly needy so immediately on the heels of his last orgasm, but Dabi can't do anything but keen and start to try to work out how much he can actually fuck himself on his alpha's cock before his knot shrinks. 

///

The rest of their cycle is a blur for the most part. Dabi just knows that he felt perfect, that Tomura took such good care of him, that he made sure he ate even though all he wanted was to mate and sleep. That he held him close and kissed him. that he never once tried to bite him, no matter the fact that Dabi essentially used his throat as a chew toy after their first round because he wanted Shigaraki to own him so badly. But he didn't let his neediness sway him. He also has the vague memory of being stuffed full of the dildo and his alpha's cock at the same time and how good that felt too, how his alpha called his hole so greedy even though it was his first time, and how that embarrassment had just made everything feel even better. But he doesn't think about that too much when they come out of their cycle. 

What he thinks about instead is the fact that Shigaraki doesn't pull away. He helps Dabi clean up his space and remake his bed. He orders them a bunch of food and then they both go into the shower together and wash each other's hair and skin until they're clean. He brings Dabi right back to his now clean bed once they're dry, and then he slowly and meticulously scents every inch of Dabi's skin, and lets him do the same. Then he holds him close and lets him lick and nuzzle at his throat, purring all the while until their food arrives. Tomura makes sure he eats every bite of what he needs to make up for all the activity, and in a day or so, when their hormones have cycled lower, and Dabi admits that he's dreading having the examination that he was told he would have to after his heat, Tomura asks if he wants him to come with him. 

He holds his hand the whole time, and gets Dabi bitching and arguing with him over nothing to distract him from how vulnerable he feels laid out on the doctor's table. 

///

"That's dumb as shit, Shigaraki." Dabi snaps as they debrief with the others. 

"Toga--" 

"Already has an assignment. If she can get the blood of as many students as she can, then we'll be in a way better position to infiltrate the school later on, either by using her, or Twice's doubles. Unless your almighty teacher is going to actually disclose who the spy he has in UA actually is?" He challenges. He swears to god that Spinner and Compress have backed off a little from the table, but he doesn't give a shit. If they think that this is going to escalate and want to be pussies about it, then that's on them. 

Shig scratches at his neck, his mask on and hiding his expression from Dabi, but he knows that the other man isn't pleased. But he made Dabi the leader for this job. He's going to lead, and he's going to prove that no matter how much time he was absent from the training with the others, that he's not weak. He's back, he's better, he absolutely deserves the position that Shigaraki has given him, and not just because all of them know he's taking his knot as often as he can get it, even with their cycles over. "Fine." 

Dabi tries not to be too smug over that and goes right back to laying out where the others will be when they hit the summer camp. 

By the time the meeting is done and Dabi has done the requisite socializing with the others, he's more than ready to be back upstairs in their room. Duster still technically has his own room, he still pretends to sleep there when his teacher calls and asks how things are going, but not five minutes after Dabi's inside, the door is opening again for his alpha, who steps inside and immediately pulls the hand from his face. It soothes him immediately to see his face again. He got so used to being able to see him, that whenever they're doing villain shit with the others and he's hiding, Dabi feels an uncomfortable distance between the two of them. 

But Tomura looks at him, and he's not frustrated with him snapping or talking back to him during the meeting. He knows exactly what to expect from Dabi at this point. He just looks lightly chastising as he steps into his space and wraps his hands carefully around Dabi's hips. Dabi starts to purr immediately as he leans in to get his kiss, but Tomura doesn't give it. "You skipped your afternoon snack, firefly." 

"Moonfish was having one of his, and it put me off my appetite. Figured we could make up for it tonight and order something terrible." 

Tomura hums and gives him his peck then. "Yeah? Terrible how?" 

"Something super greasy and bad for us so we end up not wanting to move for the rest of the night." So they can curl up in his bed together, cuddled close while Dabi watches Tomura play his games and he gets to feel cherished the way that Tomura hasn't stopped letting him feel since their cycle. 

He gets another kiss and a soft purr out of his alpha too. "If you wanted pizza that badly, you didn't have to make an excuse, baby boy. You want potatoes on it?" 

"Yeah," he doesn't need to stay in Tomura's space, he barely let him even get into the room, but he likes being close, and his alpha doesn't seem to mind, letting him tuck his head against his shoulder so that he can breathe in his scent like he's been starving for it all day. "Thanks." 

"Anything for you, firefly." He presses a kiss to Dabi's temple, and Dabi lets his own purrs start to rumble quietly between them. He knows that. Tomura will do anything for him, and at this point, Dabi is pretty sure that despite all of his good sense, that sentiment goes both ways. 

He enjoys this closeness for every second he can get it, only relenting when his stomach growls, and then, as soon as they've actually ordered their food, they're settling into the bed to be close again until it arrives. He thinks that he might not be the only one who was a mess before he got here, but he's just glad that they're both so invested in getting back on the right track. Just glad that he has Tomura with him, because he doesn't think he would be able to enjoy being an omega as much as he does now if he didn't have such a perfect alpha right beside him. 

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider leaving a comment/ask!

[iridescent-solstice]

Fic 1/2 made for the amazing @cinsilly for winning this contest I hosted a while back. I hope you like it and also thank you for participating in my silly little shenanigans. If I did my job right, hopefully you’ll join future events too! 🙆🏻‍♀️

The candle by his side burns faithfully as Julian leans over his cluttered desk. Wispy strands of his ginger hair wave back and forth as he grumbles in frustration. With an aching back and cramped wrists, his sleep deprived mind urges him to take a break.

But he won't. Because there is much to be done. Far too much.

He chides himself internally for not working enough. For not being fast enough. Because, despite the countless hours he’s spent here, there are still too many old journals to comb through. Too many documents he’s scribbled and had to scrap or re-read. He's frustrated. Tired. Hungry and extremely worried for all the people out there in worst conditions than he is. The physical states of those already infected aren't getting much better, and the count's temper is only getting worse. "DAMMIT WHY IS NOTHING WORKING!" He curses slamming his fist down on the poor table. It's like he's walking around in endless circles, isn't he? There has to be a cure! He chants in his head. With a library as huge as this, there must be something here about a plague spreading by beetles.

It’s almost beginning to feel like he’s drowning in pile and piles of unending assigned reading. Even with an apprentice, there’s still so much he has to do. If he doesn’t . . . No. Julian shakes the thoughts away. He doesn’t want to think about those consequences. Finding the cure is too vital a task to slack on. And he won't discover it if he spends all his time wondering about what will happen if he doesn't manage to uncover it. He can do it . . . Well, even if he couldn’t, there are too many people's lives at stake to not try his darn hardest. Too people relying on him. The countess. The citizens of Versuvia. The count. But most importantly . . . his apprentice is counting on him too. So, he has to find a cure. No.matter.what.the.cost.

Books, letters, documents and other knick knacks are sprawled all over the cinnamon-coloured table. But the mess inside his head is even worse than the one infront of him. A looming giant window behind him gives a glimpse into the internal state of the city. Cold, dark, deserted and in complete disarray. The normal hustle and bustle is no longer as usual as it once used to be. You’d be lucky if you saw a single person in sight. Not anymore though. They’re all hiding away inside their homes. He has no doubt that you would be too if you gave yourself the luxury too.

But he’s glad you haven’t taken that liberty. That you care enough to stay by his side. To risk your life. He has no idea how he'd do this without you. Throughout all his travels at sea, he's spent a great deal of his time alone. But he doesn't think he could ever go back to that lifestyle anymore. He needs you. 

He needs you to check up on him. To hold his hand and cheerfully tell him everything will be alright again. To not give up. He nee- No he wants you. Wants you to sit suspiciously close by as he navigates the medical forms. While he relays the important findings he just discovered. As he flips through the records. Patient after patient, case after case. It’s almost too much, but he knows he can handle it. With you by his side, he’s sure he can handle anything. Fatigued eyes search all over the table but his thoughts wander to you again. Like they always do when he’s stressed out. Are you hunched over a desk like he is? Huddled up in your shop researching old tomes? He wonders if you think about him too. He wonders if you miss his company as much as he misses yours. He can’t imagine those talking books to be good company. 

[ ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀꜱ ʙʏ: @/fairytopea]

[whomturgled]

i have so many feelings and i hate it

[dutybcrne]

While he’d had Diluc’s Vision in his care, Kaeya often spoke to it. Updates on how things were going in Mondstadt, on Jean and the Knights, quiet admissions on how much he missed him and hoped he was alright. Demands he come back to Mond alive, if not for the family he’d discarded, if not for the Knights, then for those at the Dawn Winery at the very least. They missed him more than anyone.

Kaeya doubted Diluc could even hear them, but if there was a chance those words could reach him, that Diluc could somehow be reassured through whatever turmoil he was facing in that moment and given some burst of determination to succeed through the worst from them, Kaeya would still ensure not a day went by without speaking to the Vision, conversations scarcely more than two hours apart if he could help it. It was a childish, most likely vain hope, he knew. But nothing and no one, including himself, would ever have been able to curb the habit.

Anything to make sure that Vision never once dulled to emptiness.

[oediex]

I think in all my life, I might have never been in charge of emptying the letterbox. I have always lived with other people who took the task upon them, to the point that I would often forget when said people were away from the house for a prolonged period of time.

Today, there was an official note lying on my bicycle where my current housemates deposit all my post. I am due to get my ID card renewed.

ID cards are compulsory where I live, and you're supposed to always have them on hand. I am meant to get my new one by the start of July. They're just under 25 euros and oh my god, I remember when they were just 15.

Honestly, it's about time. My last one was ten years ago and I used a three-year-old picture at the time, so it's just little old 22-year-old me and I do not look like that anymore.

When I got into my apartment, I didn't really know where to put it. It's currently on top of the clothes horse where my dry laundry is hanging patiently, waiting to be put away.

I hope I don't forget.

[guinevereslancelot]

not me forgetting i switched shifts with a coworker and showing up an hour early for work ✌️😌

[gibbearish]

huh

[propertyofwicked]

FIRST - LN

lando discovers his bestfriends little sister is a virgin, and will stop at no lengths to change that (and ruin her for anyone else)

warnings: smut!! MDNI!! virgin reader, fewtrell!sister, mostly soft smut with a small innocence kink

✧ it's officially assignment szn and ur girl is STRESSED. my posts wont be as frequent for a while but i am currently creating a backlog of things to post! ✧

masterlist the playlist

“ok, y/n - truth or dare?” ria asked the girl from across the circle they sat in on the floor of max’s living room.

being so close in age to her older brother, y/n fewtrell fit in well with his friendship group, often preferring to hang out with them over her own friends. a few others were dotted around the house, P and a couple girls using the kitchen. they were all due to head to a club soon, only using max’s house to pre drink as he lived closest.

“truth,” she responded, giggling slightly as the alcohol began to turn her tipsy - not drunk, just jolly she had told max when he last checked on her.

“where is the weirdest place you’ve had sex?” ria asked, giggling to herself at the rest of the group laughed, turning to face y/n for her answer. she went silent, heat rising her face gradually. her eyes scanned the group, everyone staring expectantly at her - only max avoided her gaze, looking at his phone to queue songs to the playlist.

“i- uh, well i guess i…haven’t?” she replied, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her whole. she didn’t know why she was so embarrassed - she was 19, almost 20, and it seemed that everyone around her was coupled up, or at least active in that department. and, it hadn’t been through lack of trying, every man she had almost been with had found out and used it to get to who she was related to - and subsequently, lando - or gave her the ick before they got the chance to.

“what do you mean you haven’t?!” niran had laughed out, he hadn’t meant to laugh, he just couldn’t believe it.

“i ju-”

“ok can we stop quizzing my little sister on her sex life? please,” max interrupted, y/n sighing out a breath of relief when they finally moved to the next person. her eyes scouted across the group of people, glad to see them all distracted and no longer giving her the sympathy eyes over her pathetic excuse of a love life.

in her embarrassment, however, y/n missed the way lando’s eyes had darted to look at her when she had answered, missing the way they darkened slightly at the revelation. he shook the thoughts plaguing his mind away, focusing on keeping his face neutral as he watched the blush rising her cheeks.

she didn’t miss the way his eyes followed her as she snuck out the room, however. she’d hope no one would notice her sneaking into the kitchen, smiling at P before swiping a bottle of something and heading to the garden, legs landing gracefully to sit on a step.

this was not the first time she had dwelled on this, but this time, she could at least comfort the blow of her overactive brain by drinking - or so she thought. as not a moment after she’d removed the cap, the bottle was being snatched from her hands and closely inspected by a man towering above her crouched body.

“this smells like ass, y/n - are you sure you wanna drink it?” lando asked her, lowering himself to sit on the step next to her. the sky was darkening, stars filling the vast blackness.

“yes im sure, thanks dad,” she mocked him, arms reaching over to snatch the bottle from him, but once again, he moved his arm out, stretching the bottle further from her reach.

“nuh uh!” lando said, shaking his head, “only when you tell me why you intend on drinking what im sure is the finest bottle of… £3.99 vodka - jesus, £3.99?”

“sorry mister ‘owns-2-mclarens-and-a-lambo’,” she replied, leaning further into his side in a desperate bid to get the bottle back - she wasn’t even sure she wanted to drink it anymore, she just wanted something to fiddle with when lando eventually forced her to talk to him.

“didn’t answer my question, darlin’” he told her, placing the bottle besides him as he removed one of his threaded bracelets, placing it in her exposed palm.

oh he knew her a little too well.

“i jus- no it’s so stupid,” she conceded, the bracelet twisting around her fingers. she stared directly at it, refusing to meet lando’s intense gaze.

“bet it’s not,” he told her, moving an arm to wrap around her when he felt the chill air brush his own skin.

“you know what’s worse than having to announce to your friends that you’re a lonely little virgin that no one wants? being the lonely little virgin. it’s so fucking embarrassing - i’m 19, hell i’m nearly 20 and when everyone around you has someone in their life, it’s so hard not to feel so behind in your own life, to feel completely unlovable, to constantly feel like there’s something wrong with you,” she breathed out, still refusing to make eye contact with the man besides her.

lando took in a deep breath, choosing his next words so carefully. his hand reached up to her chin, turning her face to look up at his.

“y/n, you are not unlovable, you’re not falling behind in life and there is certainly nothing wrong with you,” he told her, his tone harsh in attempt to knock some sense into her. she shook her head at him in disbelief, his hand dropping back to his side.

“see, i really want to believe you but the evidence isn’t really stacking up in support of your argument. if that was true, i probably wouldn’t be sat in my brother’s back garden throwing myself a pity party.”

“i think your brother might’ve had a part to play in this, if im honest y/n,” lando said, slipping up slightly. she paused at his words, before her head shot round to look at him again.

“what? what do you mean max has something do with the fact no one wants me?”

“it’s not that no one wants you, y/n,” he sighed at her again before giving in, realising he’d already said too much to stop now, “it’s just that max has a bad habit of… threatening anyone who even mentions you in that way?” he added, his tone making it sound like he wasn’t even sure himself.

“threatening them?” she repeated, anger beginning to bubble up in her stomach.

“he’s only actually hit 2 of them - hell even ive had a close call with his fist a few times,” lando laughed, before realising what he’d indirectly admitted to. luckily, neither of them had time to dwell on it before the man in question popped his head round the door.

“what are you two losers doing out here?” he joked, before sensing some tension being thrown his way, “whatever, we’re leaving in a minute if you wanna get ready?”

“no thanks,” y/n told him, pushing herself up and beginning to walk past him.

“huh?” max replied, confused.

“i said, no thanks. wouldn’t wanna risk you punching anyone who shows the slightest interest in me,” she added, arms crossed over her chest as she glared at him. she turned quickly on her heel, walking off, ignoring the group as she trailed up to the spare bedroom.

the two boys shared a look between them, lando’s face holding that of apology whilst max’s was gradually moving to infuriated.

“what did you tell her?” max asked him, jaw clenching slightly.

“i didn’t mean to,” lando replied, throwing his arms out slightly as he stood up, “i just thought she ought to know that the reason boys don’t go for her is not because she is completely unlovable.”

“she said that?” max asked, startled slightly at the comment, “she thought she was unlovable?”

lando said nothing, throwing a simple nod at him before brushing past him and making his way to the front door.

y/n laid in her bed, her mind racing through the conversation with lando, like a record on repeat. she’d heard the rest of them leave the house almost an hour ago, leaving her to lay with her own thoughts once more.

there was nothing wrong with her, max just threatened anyone who came too close to her.

max had punched 2 guys who had tried to get with her.

max had tried to punch lando - wait, why had he tried to punch lando?

the sound of the front door opening, then quickly shutting again drew her from her thoughts, a natural panic spreading through her veins.

“hello?” she called out, confused as to who could be walking in the house right now. there was no response for a moment, the sound of footsteps climbing the stairs filled the silence.

“it’s just me, baby,” a voice called out, the childhood nickname letting her know it was lando approaching her bedroom. the name used to be max and lando’s attempt to tease the girl, calling her a baby when she cried after dropping her ice cream. that was when she was 7, but 13 years later, the nickname still stuck. somewhere along the line, the name had turned from mimicking to a term of endearment, blurring the lines of their friendship every time he called out to her.

“oh thank god, i thought you were a murderer,” she joked, her breathing easing as his head poked around the door, eyes meeting hers.

“you thought i was a murderer and chose to shout ‘hello’? brave, or stupid?” lando joked back.

“never let them know your next move,” y/n replied with a shrug, before noticing the way one of lando’s hands remained hidden behind the door, “whatcha got there?” she asked him, the way one would ask a dog who had something they shouldn’t.

“depends, are you gonna be nice to me?” he shot back.

“me? im always nice to you, lan,” an innocent smile built on her face.

“tell that to the scar on my back.”

“tell the scar on your back to get over it, it was 10 years ago,” she snorted as he moved further into the door frame.

“no ice cream for you then,” lando replied, smirking at her as he shrugged.

“you got ice cream?” she asked, eyes widening at him.

“thought you might wanna watch a film and forget about tonight with a flurry.”

“gimme,” y/n said, making grabby hands that would’ve been embarrassing had she not already had the worst night of her life.

“nuh uh, not until you’re nice to m-”

“oh get over here you drama queen,” she groaned at him, patting the spot next to her on the bed. lando would never say no to her, giving in so easily as he climbed under the blanket, an arm falling naturally behind her head as he did.

he began fiddling with the tv remote, scrolling through netflix for something to watch. y/n leant further into his embrace, her head settling lightly on his chest as she looked up at him.

“lan - why didn’t you stay at the club?” she asked quietly, fighting the urge to fiddle with her fingers, nervous at the thought of insinuating that he’d want to spend his evening with her instead.

“clubs are only good when you’re drunk,” lando replied with a shrug, eyes still focused on the tv, “id rather just be the designated driver and still be able to get up for training in the morning.”

his eyes flitted down at her quickly, glad she’d returned her gaze to the screen as if he’d seen her wide eyes staring up at him, lando doubted he’d be able to control himself. what she’d revealed earlier still flew around his brain as he fought desperately to shake away any thoughts of taking her innocence, ruining her for anyone else. god, he felt like a creep.

the two fell into a comfortable silence, both of them appearing to focus on the film playing in front of them. lando’s hand remained tightly around her waist, his hand moving beneath her shirt slightly for his fingers to trace circles into her skin. her head remained on his chest, each breath taking in the lingering smell of his aftershave.

“lan?” she broke the silence again, looking up at him once again.

“yes, baby?” he replied, eyes never straying from the screen.

“what did you mean earlier when you said max had even tried to punch you?”

his head shot down to look at her, feeling himself crumble slightly as her eyes stared widely up at him, her tired voice drawing him further into the trap. he could lie, tell her it was a misunderstanding. or he could tell her the truth, and pray it didn’t destroy his entire friendship with the fewtrell siblings.

“when you told me i wasn’t unlovable earlier, you really meant…” she asked, filling in for his silence. she trailed off at the end of her sentence, unwilling to get her hopes up.

“yeah.. so about that,” he said, trying to regain his confidence. she hit at his chest lightly, pushing herself to sit up and look at his face clearer than ever.

“how long?” she asked him with unwavering eye contact.

“longer than i want to admit,” lando replied, smiling at her awkwardly, “and i understand if you don’t fe-”

“kiss me.”

“wha-”

“you heard me,” she told him before joining their lips apprehensively. it started off slow, both testing the waters before falling into a steady pace. his tongue swiped her bottom lip softly, deepening the kiss as his hand raised to hold her jaw. she stifled a moan, embarrassed at the way her body was reacting to the slightest touch.

“don’t get shy on me now, baby,” he told her, hands dropping to her waist, “come ‘ere.”

lando’s hands settled on her hips, fingers gripping at them slightly to guide her onto his lap. as she settled into the new position, he kissed her again, gentle in the way he pulled her in closer, his free hand disappearing under her shirt to draw circles into her skin once more. her hips instinctively rolled into his at the feeling, and he gripped at her skin harder, a small groan escaping his mouth.

“fuck, keep that up and i won’t be able to stop,” he warned her as she rolled her hips again. his head dropped to her jaw, pressing soft kisses along the skin.

“what if i don’t want this to stop?” she asked him, causing him to pause, looking up at her softly.

“are you sure?” he asking, checking her face for any sign of hesitancy. she nodded at him before speaking.

“there’s no one i trust more.”

with her reassurance, lando flipped the top of them over, trailing kisses down her neck as he hovered above her.

“we’ll go slow,” he told her as he pulled at her t-shirt, tugging the fabric up her torso, “wanted this for so long. gonna take my time with you,” he mumbled, pressing soft kisses to the skin of her stomach. her back arched into him slightly, helping him remove her top fully. y/n felt exposed, more so than usual. had it not been for lando’s large hands snaking up to grab at her breasts, she would’ve used her own to shield her nudity.

“so gorgeous,” he mumbled again, before dipping his head to take one of her nipples in his mouth, tongue flicking at it, his fingers tugged at the other. he pushed himself back up, re joining their lips in a sweet kiss.

“gonna make you feel good, alright?” he asked her, watching the way her head nodded at him, “yeah? need you to use your words from now on baby.”

“think you should take your top off now,” she told him, her confidence returning slightly, “seems a bit unfair,” she added, jokingly pointing at her own exposed chest.

“so it is,” he agreed, sitting back on his knees as his hands gripped the bottom of his own t-shirt, lifting it over his head. the material landed on the floor, but y/n couldn’t care less - she was much more focused on the way his muscles looked, a combination of his tan and the soft fairy lights illuminating his features in a way that had her stomach rolling for him.

“oi! my eyes are up here,” he joked, settling himself between her legs. lando’s hands trailed up the exposed skin of her thighs, dragging his fingers slowly. her hips jutted up slightly at the sensation, a satisfied smirking fighting its way onto lando’s face.

“this ok?” he asked her, hands toying with the waistband of her shorts.

“yeah,” she breathed out, anticipation beginning to get the better of her as he began pulling the material away from her heat.

“tell me to stop and i’ll stop,” lando told her, discarding her shorts with his top, before adjusting his gaze to her, “just relax f’me. breathe,” he added, noticing the way her chest had frozen, breath caught in her throat. a finger ran through her folds softly, her hips rolling slightly at the sudden feeling of his rough finger pad circling her clit. his movements stopped for a moment as he moved back up her body, kissing her softly as he gathered her slick along his fingers.

“so wet for me,” he told her, kissing at her jaw, “gonna get you ready for me, ok?”

“please, lan,” she begged, panting slightly as his fingers circled her heat again, pressing into her slightly. it’s not like she hadn’t done this before on herself, which was potentially her downfall the moment he pressed a finger into her, the stretch unexpected. lando’s face pressed into her neck, kissing a trail along the skin as he pumped his finger a few times. he could hear every noise she made for him so clearly, drawing him to push a second finger into her, feeling the way her walls clamped around him.

“im ready, lan, please just fuck me,” she begged him, panting in between her words. he could’ve passed out her words, blood rushing from his brain and straight to his cock. his body pushed back up, standing quickly to remove the rest of his clothes. her hands halted him as they reached out and grabbed at the waist band of his joggers, pulling them down slowly as the pressure of his cock strained against the tight material. he helped her remove them fully, her spare hand adding difficulty as she palmed him through his boxers.

“fuck, angel,” he groaned, careful not to overwhelm her as she pulled at his boxers, tugging them down as she had his joggers. however they soon established his noises were not as overwhelming as the size of his cock - her eyes widening as she came face to face with it, her finger running down the thick vein that travelled his length.

“like what you see?” he joked in attempt to ease her nerves.

“how-? is that gonna fit?” she stuttered, gaze travelling down to her stomach as if she were trying to size herself up.

“im sure we’ll make it work,” he replied, hand reaching to her chin, forcing her to look back up at him, “remember, we can stop whenever.”

she nodded at him, before reaching up, looping her arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss. he used the leverage to lay her back down, hovering over her once again as he rested on his forearm. without breaking the kiss, he reached down, guiding his cock through her folds a few times before settling the tip at her entrance.

“you sure?” lando checked again, searching her face for any last minute apprehension.

“are you sure?” she retorted, her smile illuminated by the moons glow, “can’t imagine fucking a virgin is high on your bucket list.”

“you’d be surprised,” he responded, mumbling slightly, his cock throbbed in his hand. he began lowering his hips, pushing into her slowly, low grunts falling from his lips as he disappeared further inside her.

“breathe baby, breathe for me,” he told her, feeling the way her body had tensed, her chest stilling as she inhaled deeply, “feel so good.”

lando waited a moment, watching the way her face softened, his necklace dangling dangerously around her lips. he started moving at a gentle pace, careful to listen to her responses.

“feels good,” she told him, eyes looking into his.

“yeah? ‘my the first person to make you feel good?” he asked, baiting her slightly.

“yes, fuck lan. only you.”

he close to lost it, his brain short circuiting at her words. he began to move faster in her, relishing in the way she moaned his name, her walls contracting around his cock. his hand reached between the two of them, fingers flicking at her clit before drawing pressured circles around her heat.

“faster, lan, please,” y/n begged him, her hand raising to tug at his curls.

“gonna ruin you for anyone else, angel,” he grunted, hips snapping into hers at a brutal pace, his eyes focused on the way her breasts moved in unison with his thrusts.

lando felt his high coming quicker than he could ever remember, feeling the way her grip on his bicep tightened and her breathing became more sporadic letting him know she was close too.

“you wanna cum with me?” he asked her, his tone soft whilst his pace remained rough, his fingers beginning to trace his own name on her clit. it gave him a sense of ownership over her, an invisible trace of him that would linger on her sensitivity forever - and she loved it, whining at the feeling of his skin on hers.

“please, fuck. wanna cum,” she told him, eyes shutting as her head rolled back. lando’s head dropped to her exposed neck, his teeth nipping at the skin before he titled his head further, mouth landing on the flesh of her breast. he’d quickly realised that leaving visible mark on his best friends little sister was potentially not the smartest idea, choosing to nip at the skin of her tit, mouth sucking the flesh into his lips as he did. his raised himself up again, admiring the way blood ran to the surface of her skin, only imagining the way she’d look when a bruise formed on the spot.

“only me?” he asked her, hand moving to grip her jaw, dark eyes locking with hers.

“only you,” she replied in a breathless moan.

“good girl,” he said, feeling the way her hips rolled up into his, heat running through her entire body as her climax washed over her. y/n shook around him lightly, her stomach spasming as she rode out her high, but lando couldn’t stop and admire the view. he pulled out quickly, feeling his own high rising in his cock, both of their eyes glued on the way his cock shot out ropes of cum that landed on her stomach.

“so….” she started, trying to fill the somewhat awkward tension in the room.

“we are so doing that again,” he said with a chuckle and he moved to locate his joggers on the floor.

“oh absolutely,” she replied, laughing with him as the fear of him leaving her washed away, though her eyebrow quirked up at him as he shuffled to the door.

“just grabbing a cloth. gotta get you cleaned up so we can finish the film,” he added with a smile.

minutes later, they were both sat back in the bed, her legs thrown over his lap as one hand grazed the skin of his back lightly, lando’s hand running up and down her thigh in a similar fashion. they sat in a comfortable silence, knowing that eventually they would need to discuss the future of this, the future of them, but for now lando relished in the way her hand continuously stroked at the same spot on his back. the same spot - he internally questioned.

“watcha doing?” he finally asked, curious to her supposed fixation on his left shoulder blade.

“apologising to the scar on your back?” she retorted, circling back to their earlier conversation.

“never apologise for anything ever again,” he mumbled into her hair, before pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“what if i murdered your entire family?” she piped up.

“i support women’s rights and their wrongs.”

“preach.”

-

✧ inbox/requests are open ✧

[callmemickey]

Simon Riley fucks intensely and passionately. He doesn’t grab your hair, or spit on your face, or cause you physical pain - my man’s has openly admitted to dealing with violent thoughts/dreams against women and wanting to be better. He might get rough if he’s stressed or angry, but he won’t be, like, throat fucking you for example. Sorry. I just can’t see it. He can be fast, but I don’t think he’s gonna be hardcore or degrading. I think if he gets the mask on, he miiiight be a little more… forthcoming.

Simon Riley finds sex to be the highest level of trust, love, and vulnerability. Don’t expect him to be a quick or easy lay. If he wants you intimately, this is the biggest honor you would ever receive from him. Maybe before he was tortured he would’ve been quicker to engage, but the Simon we know now? Yeah, you gotta work.

Simon Riley… ohhhhh he’s always asking you: “is that alright, love?” “that feel good?” “ahhhh, yeah, you’re a good girl, aren’tcha?” If you’re not feeling it, he’s not feeling it. he wants to make sure you’re into it 100%. the moment you grunt, wince, or groan in pain, he’s stopping to check up on his lovie. he just radiates Soft Dom energy to me (and I want him so bad). Simon loves to see you get all flustered, too. When you beg for him (and you’re a good girl) he will give you anything and everything you want.

Simon Riley being a Soft Dom… mmm, delicious. I love to imagine him praising and worshipping: “ahh fuck, i’ve missed my girl’s pussy” “so proud of you, taking my cock so well” “you want to be a good girl for me, don’tcha?” “you’re so beautiful when you struggle to fit me” if you’re engaged with him romantically, you’re his everything - man’s invested his entire soul and well-being into you. With that being said, throw him some praise, too! He’ll melt and become putty in your hands; he’ll do anything for you. Tell him how you were made for his cock, that nobody else makes you feel like he does, how you’re sooo good - but only for him. He’s definitely possessive of you - not in a red flag kind of way, but when you talk about how you’re his and only his… whew.

Simon Riley wants to see your face when you two are having sex. Anything missionary, missionary adjacent, cowgirl, it doesn’t matter, just let this man look at you! He doesn’t crave it, he needs it. Eye contact is so intimate, and if you’re shy and can’t maintain it? Ohhh, he’s gonna have fun. “eyes here, love” “don’t cover your face/close your eyes - i want to watch you cum” “you were just begging for my cock, don’t get all shy now” “be a good girl and look at me” he’s either coming inside or on your tummy/chest. preferably? inside.

Simon Riley prefers having a good session as opposed to a quickie. He likes doing things in the privacy of your shared home (because then you can be loud and cry his name as you cum on his cock for the 4th time 🤭). Sometimes, he’ll be desperate though, and this is when he gets a lil impatient. Like this one time, he went with you to your family’s Christmas party while being on leave for only a week, and he needed you. That man took you in the bathroom and railed you so hard you couldn’t leave for 15 minutes until you could stand without shaking (also not me writing this rn).

Simon Riley, upon specific request, will wear the mask in bed. Honestly, don’t expect this for a while, however. The mask serves as his identity - his separation from you. This will take a lot of courage on his behalf as you’re wanting to bring in something containing his countless sins and crimes into such an intimate situation. Like I said!!! It takes a while to get him this comfortable. Try to rush the process and you’re missing out on some pretty intense and animalistic fucking. It’s a rare time you can expect a more vicious kind of dirty talk from him: “fuckin’ hell, you like being a dirty little slut, huh?” “that pretty little face of yours deserves to be fucked” “your pussy was made for me” “shut up and keep taking it like a good girl should” “ahh, begging for my cock like the needy little slut you are”

Simon Riley loves aftercare, and he makes sure you feel loved during that time. Sweet Angel, we don’t deserve him. Massages, baths, checking on you emotionally and mentally, he’ll make you dinner, put on your favorite movie, and relax with you while he showers you with unconditional love and adoration. He’s obsessed with you. Get over it.

[monzabee]

prison for life - mv1

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where if anybody hurts you, Max is going to prison for life.

Pairing: max verstappen x pregnant!reader 

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: fluff, pregnancy, mentions of throwing up, cursing, kinda angsty in some places, jos verstappen

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i’ve been in such a max mood recently that is actually shocking to me, but i just needed some fluffy anything after working on smutty pieces for weeks. i got this idea in my dream and honestly i think it turned out better than i could’ve imagined!! feedback is always appreciated, and my requests are currently open if you want to check that out, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

If you would have to choose a word to describe Max, it would be ‘overprotective’, because that’s what he is. It’s not a bad thing, per say. He isn’t overbearing or controlling at all, but he is simply overprotective. And if you thought he was overprotective when the two of you were dating or when you first got married, you have to admit that you were not, at all, prepared for his protectiveness when you told him that you were pregnant. Apart from his initial meltdown over becoming a dad, or rather becoming like his own father, Max has been pretty chill about the whole thing – with the exception being your safety, of course. The underlying problem isn’t the fact that you’re some sort of daredevil because you’re not, the problem is the fact that Max believes that everything is out to get you. 

The olives you wanted to eat for breakfast? Choking hazard.  

The candles you bought for the living room (to be purely decorative, but still)? Fire hazard.  

The pool lounger Victoria thought would be a cute addition to the pool? Drowning hazard.  

The seatbelt in his car that is surprisingly tight? Could be all three, according to Max, given the right (or wrong) circumstances.  

So, yeah, maybe he wasn’t that scared of becoming a dad, but he was surely scared of you being in danger. That’s why you agreed to stay back for the most races this year – you knew he didn’t need to worry about you or your baby’s safety on top of the stress he had to deal with during the usual racing weekend. That was until you realised how much you would miss your boyfriend after almost a month of not seeing him due to a triple header. And so, you did the thing any person with a common sense would do – flying out to see him without telling him beforehand, because what’s the fun in that?  

The sheer look of shock on his face might be the funniest thing you’ve ever seen when you meet him in his driver’s room, but of course Max doesn’t share the same sentiment as you. Because all he chooses to focus is the fact that you were on a plane – a 0.23% risk out of very 7.7 million flights each year, but still. He spends at least half an hour, just checking you over and assuring himself that you and the baby are fine; at some point he decides that you need to go to the nearest hospital to get an ultrasound just to make sure the baby is okay, but you tell him to fuck off and calm his tits down in the kindest way possible. And that’s how the two of you end up on the small couch in his driver’s room, with his arms around you as you lay between his legs, his hands splayed on the swell of your stomach as he caresses the skin through the fabric of your dress. His voice is low as he tells you about his day, mostly media duties since it is only Thursday, and how he thinks putting a cat tree in the nursery is a bad idea (that was your idea initially, but you can see how having two rumbunctious cats hang out in the nursery could cause problems). 

“I also thought about something else,” he mumbles, suddenly busying himself with the flower pattern of your dress instead of looking at you.  

You raise your brows slightly, motioning him to continue, but let out a huff when he doesn’t do so right away. “Come on,” you whine softly, “tell me what it is Maxie.”  

“I don’t want him to get into karting.” His words are soft, mumbled, and most definitely final. You know how Max can be when he puts his mind into it, and this particular topic has been a discussion in your household ever since the two of you found out that you were having a boy. “I don’t want him to go through what I went through.” 

Letting out a soft exhale, you motion Max to six next to you on the couch. “He won’t,” you assure him, voice soft as you give pleading looks at him, “you’re not your father, Max.” He gives you a look that basically begs for you to not dwell on the topic, but you continue despite the look he gives you, “And what if he wants to get into karting? Are you going to tell him no?” 

Max tries his best to ignore the knowing look you give him, knowing very well that he won’t be able to ever say ‘no’ to his son, who already has him wrapped around his finger. “I might do that, you never know.” He grumbles, hiding his face in your hair – though the soft giggles coming from you manages to put a soft smile on his face. “You’re supposed to agree with me, you know, we have to be a united front.”   

“We’ll discuss it when the baby comes, until then, I’ll be the voice of reason.” You emphasise, poking him at his bicep to convey your point. “You feel better now?” 

“Kinda,” he murmurs, leaving small kisses onto the exposed skin of your shoulder as he keeps on murmuring against your skin, “I would feel better if I knew you stayed in bed all day, relaxing.” 

With that, you choke a loud laugh, and motion him to stand up as you try to do it yourself – though, of course, he has to help with the baby bump being in the way of you doing any sort of physical activity. “You’re funny, let’s go get me ice cream.”  

The only response you get back is a confused look from your husband, his head tilted to the side as he eyes you warily. “What does that have to do with anything?” 

“Um, excuse me?” You raise an eyebrow, “Your son,” pointing to your stomach, you emphasise your words, “is craving ice cream right now.”  

Max’s eyes soften instantly, and a smile creeps across his face. He nods, taking your hand gently as he helps you up. “Well, if my son wants ice cream, then ice cream he shall have.” 

You giggle as you both make your way out of the driver’s room, Max's hand never leaving yours. The paddock is bustling with activity, but for a moment, it feels like it's just the two of you, cocooned in your little world. As you approach the nearest concession stand, Max’s protective instincts kick in once again. “Is this ice cream stand safe? How long have they been here? Do they have the proper health certifications?” 

You roll your eyes playfully. “Max, it’s ice cream, not a five-course meal. I’m sure it’s fine.” He sighs but nods, deciding to trust your judgment. After all, you did manage to fly all the way here without incident and somehow alerting him. You both get a generous serving of your favourite flavours, and as you sit down to enjoy your treat, you feel a sense of normalcy and contentment wash over you. 

Max watches you with a tender expression, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and worry. “I know I can be overprotective,” he says softly, reaching out to brush a stray hair from your face, “but it’s only because I love you so much.” 

You smile, leaning into his touch. “I know, Max. And I love you too. But sometimes, you need to trust that everything will be okay. We’ll figure things out together, just like we always do.” 

He nods, his gaze shifting to your belly. “You’re right. I guess I need to talk to my mom.”  

“Why?” You ask, tilting your head to the side in curiosity.  

“Well, she promised me she’d look after you but you’re here, so I think we need to have a talk about not keeping secrets from each other.” He mumbles, dragging a hand down his face. 

You laugh, nudging him playfully. “Oh, Maxie, who do you think helped me with my bags at the airport? Your mom is unsurprisingly a strong woman.” 

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “I should’ve known better than to think you’d stay put for a whole month.” He sighs, but there’s a smile playing on his lips. “Alright, but next time, at least let me know you’re planning something. My heart can only take so much.” 

Max feels a lot better after tricking you with ice-cream into at least staying put withing the Red Bull hospitality for the day as he gets through his media duties. Max feels a lot better after tricking you with ice cream into at least staying put within the Red Bull hospitality for the day as he gets through his media duties. He periodically checks in, making sure you're comfortable and well-fed. Each time he sneaks a glance your way, you catch him with a knowing smile and a roll of your eyes, and he returns it with a wink. He knows that there is absolutely no reason for him to be checking on you as much as he does, because you’ll be fine in the cool hospitality suite with enough water to keep you hydrated for years, but he can’t help but worry about anything and everything going wrong. And his worries prove to be true when he sees the one person who he definitely doesn’t want around you.  

“What are you doing here?” He asks the approaching figure, “I thought you were not going to be coming to this race but the next one.”  

“Given the drop in your performance in the last few races I thought I should be here for... support.” His dad supplies, eyes finding you behind his son’s back on one of the couches in the hospitality, “And I can see the reason for why you’ve been distracted lately, what is she doing here?”  

Max scoffs, crossing his arms on his chest protectively, “She’s my wife, she is more than welcome to be here.” 

“She’s also a distraction, Max,” his father points out, “you’re going to lose your focus if you keep–” 

Since Max is faster than his father where it matters the most, he cuts him off before he can say anything further. “Leave, I don’t want you here.” 

Max’s father looks taken aback, his eyes widening momentarily before they narrow into a scowl. “Excuse me?” he says, his voice low and dangerous. 

“You heard me,” Max replies firmly, his stance unwavering. “I don’t want you here if you’re going to criticize my wife and stress me out, or worse, stress her out.” 

“You’re being irrational,” his father argues, taking a step closer. “I’m just trying to help you stay focused.” Seeing that his son is not going to back down anytime soon, he points a threatening finger towards him. “I’ll be back on race day, but you better be ready to put in a winning performance,” his father finishes, his voice laced with finality. He turns on his heel and walks away, leaving a tense silence in his wake. 

Max sighs deeply, running a hand through his hair as he watches his father disappear into the crowd. Looking back at you over his shoulder, talking to some interns from the social media team, he can’t help but feel the dread of you having to face his father – which gives him another reason to somehow stop the two of you from running into each other during the weekend.  

On Friday, Max’s luck decides to do him a favour as you tell him that you’re not feeling well enough to go to the track with him for the qualifying, and though it is true that he wants you to be with him, he also realises that this will give him one less thing to worry about. He knows how stressful it can be for you to navigate the bustling paddock and deal with the crowds, especially with the added pressure of possibly encountering his father. 

“You rest up, okay?” he says, his voice full of concern. “I'll be back as soon as I can. If you need anything, just call me.” 

You nod, giving him a reassuring smile. “I will, Max. Good luck today. We'll be cheering you on from here.” 

Max leans down to kiss your forehead gently as he mumbles into your skin, “I love you.”  

“I love you too,” you reply, your voice soft and comforting, “be careful out there, okay?” 

Max has one goal throughout qualifying, and to his team principal’s dismay, it is not being on pole. His one and only goal is to get the session done with as quickly as possible and get back to you as soon as he can. After the session ends, he barely waits for the car to come to a stop before jumping out and heading straight for the hospitality suite. His team notices his urgency but knows better than to question it once he tells them he’ll pay whatever fine the FIA will give him for missing his interviews. 

Bursting through the door, Max finds you resting comfortably on the couch, a cup of tea in your hands. The sight of you immediately calms his racing heart. “Hey,” he says softly, walking over to sit beside you. “How are you feeling?” 

You smile up at him, still in his team gear and the hat he almost never takes off, the warmth in your eyes easing his worries. “Better, now that you're here. How did it go?” 

“Starting on pole,” he replies, mostly in a mumble, taking your hand in his. “But all I could think about was getting back to both of you.” 

You squeeze his hand, your expression tender. “I'm proud of you, Max. You did great.” 

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Thanks. Let's just relax for the rest of the day, hm? I want to hold you to make sure you’re not getting out of this bed until tomorrow.” 

“You know, I would be happier about this proposal if it was until different circumstances,” you sigh, earning a laugh from him as he pulls you towards his chest, being careful not to spill your tea, of course. Why? Because it is a safety hazard, of course. 

As you settle back into the bed together, Max feels a sense of relief wash over him. The stress of the day melts away in your presence, and he realizes how much he needs these quiet moments with you to forget all about the outside world and focus his energy on what actually matters instead. 

The next day, feeling much better, you prepare to join Max at the track for the race. He’s still concerned but reassured by your determination to support him. As you arrive at the paddock together, Max is more attentive than ever, keeping an eye out for his father in hopes of trying to prevent the two of you running into each other. Navigating through the bustling paddock, Max keeps a protective arm around your waist, and a hand on your bump whenever the two of you stand somewhere talking to someone, guiding you through the throngs of people. His eyes constantly scan the crowd, his jaw set in a determined line. The other drivers and team members greet you warmly, and you return their smiles, feeling the anticipation that surrounds you. 

“Max, relax a bit,” you whisper, squeezing his hand as you notice the tension in his posture. 

He glances down at you, his expression softening slightly. “I just want to make sure everything’s okay.” 

“I know,” you reply, reaching up to stroke his cheek, “but we’re here to enjoy the race and support you. Try to focus on that.” 

He nods, taking a deep breath as both of you make your way to the Red Bull hospitality area. The team welcomes you with open arms, and you settle into a comfortable spot where you can watch the preparations for the race. He asks one of the interns to keep an eye on you, which he thought he was being sly whilst doing it, but you of course catch him in the corner of your eye. That’s when you realise the man walking towards him, your eyes meeting in nothing short of disdain for each other.  

You stiffen slightly, your hand tightening around Max’s hand as he turns just in time to see his father approaching, his protective instincts kicking into high gear as he lets go of your hand and decides to wrap his arm around you protectively instead. 

“Max,” Jos says, his tone neutral but carrying an underlying condescension. “We need to talk before your race begins, walk with me.” 

Max's grip tightens around you for a moment before he reluctantly loosens his hold. “What is it, Dad?” he asks, his voice steady but tinged with irritation. 

Jos's eyes flicker to you before focusing back on Max. “I wanted to discuss strategy, but I can see this isn't a good time.” 

Max's jaw clenches, his protective instincts on high alert. “If it's important, we can talk here. I’m not leaving her side.”  

Jos sighs, clearly frustrated. “Fine, if that's how you want it.” 

Max’s arm remains firmly around you as his father steps closer. “Make it quick,” Max insists, his tone leaving no room for argument. If other people were to see your eyes moving from one Verstappen to the other, they’d probably think you are watching a tennis match, though the situation in front of you is certainly more tense than that. 

Jos glances at you once more before addressing Max. “I just wanted to remind you to stay focused. Pole position is a great start, but you need to keep your head in the race.” 

Max's eyes narrow, and he lets out a scoff, “I know how to do my job, no need for reminder. Anything else?” 

Jos shakes his head, his expression a mix of disappointment and resignation. “Just don’t let distractions cost you the win.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Max hisses, taking a step towards his father as he gently pushes you behind himself. You have to put a hand against his chest to slow him down, though that doesn’t prove to be a sufficient prevention method. “I already told you; she is my wife, and he is not going anywhere so you better get that into that damaged brain of yours.” 

“Max,” you try to plead with him, “please, not before your race.”  

He gives you a look over his shoulder for a short moment before turning back towards his father. His jaw is set as he looks at the man in front of him. “I’ll only tell you this one more time. When she’s here with me, you don’t show up. If you do show up, you don’t come near her, you don’t talk to her, you don’t even look at her.” Another step taken towards his father has you tightening your hold on him, but he still manages to convey his message. “Try something like this again, and you won’t be in my life anymore let alone my son’s.” 

Jos's lips press into a thin line, his eyes darting to you briefly before settling back on Max. “Fine,” he repeats, his tone colder. “Just remember what’s at stake every time you get behind the wheel.” 

Max stands his ground, his eyes locked onto his father's, unwavering. “I know exactly what's at stake, and I don't need you reminding me. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a race to focus on.” 

Max stands his ground, his eyes locked onto his father's, unwavering. “I know exactly what's at stake, and I don't need you reminding me. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a race to focus on.”

It’s not the first time Max has stood up to his father, not by any means. But you can tell that this time affects him in a different way. The weight of the words exchanged and the implications for their future relationship linger in the air. You can feel the tension radiating from Max as he watches his father walk away, and it takes a moment for him to relax his posture and turn back to you. “Please tell me something that will calm me down so I don’t somehow do something that would put me to jail.”

“Okay,” you singsong, quickly positioning yourself in front of him so that you can fix him with a strict look on your face. “You are not doing something that will put you into prison, period.”

“I’m going to need a very good reason because all I want to do right now is follow him to his car and punch him.” Unfortunately for you, the way his jaw is set is a telling sign that, no, Max would actually do something like this given the circumstances.

“There is no sim racing in prison.” You try to provide, giving him a weak smile.  

Max's lips twitch into a small, reluctant smile at your words, the tension in his jaw easing slightly. “No sim racing in prison, huh? Do you honestly think that would keep me from doing something stupid?” 

“I panicked!” You exclaim, hitting him on his chest lightly as he laughs at you silently. “How are you supposed to help me raise our son,” you point to your stomach to emphasise your point, “if you’re in prison, huh?”

Max's smile grows wider, the tension in his posture finally starting to melt away. “Okay, okay, you’ve got a point,” he says, placing his hands on your shoulders and looking into your eyes. “I need to be here for both of you. But it’s so damn hard to ignore him.” 

You reach up and cup his face in your hands, your eyes soft and filled with understanding. “I know, but you’re stronger than him. And you have more important things to focus on. Like winning this race and getting me more ice cream on our way back to the hotel.” 

He takes a deep breath, nodding slowly as he lets out a soft chuckle. “You’re right. I can’t let him get to me. Not today.” 

“Exactly,” you say, giving him a reassuring smile, “I usually am.” 

Max laughs, the sound lightening the mood even more. “Yes, you usually are,” he agrees, pulling you closer for a brief kiss. “Thank you for always knowing how to calm me down.” 

“That’s what I’m here for,” you say, resting your forehead against his. “Now, go out there and show everyone what you can do. We’ll celebrate with ice cream afterward.” 

“Deal,” he replies, his eyes twinkling with affection and determination. With one last squeeze, he lets you go and turns towards his team, his focus now fully on the race ahead. “But I feel like I need to let you know that I would definitely go to prison for life for you.” 

You laugh, shaking your head. “Don’t you have a race to win, Verstappen?” 

He grins, giving you one last kiss before heading off to prepare for the race, giving you a grin over his shoulder as he starts to move away, “So, I’ll get the rest of that kiss after the race, then?” 

“Yeah, Max,” you let out a breathy laugh, your eyes not leaving his for a moment, “after the race!” 

[roosterforme]

Vintage | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You love teasing your husband about his deep and unwavering devotion to his Bronco, but he's insistent that it would come in second place to you every time, and he intends to prove it. While you're away on deployment, he concocts a plan to get you behind the wheel of your very own vintage beauty.

Warnings: Swears, fluff, mentions of smut

Length: 2700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

"Sometimes I swear you love that thing more than you love me."

Your voice startled Bradley as he ran the wet, soapy sponge along the hood of his vintage Ford Bronco, pulling him from his thoughts. That was something you frequently said to him, jokingly claiming that you were the second love of his life. But you both knew it wasn't true. Especially not tonight.

"Hey, Baby," he whispered, coaxing you closer to him as he tossed the sponge back into the bucket. "Come here."

The setting sun painted your face with orange and gold, and he noticed the sadness in your eyes. He quickly wiped his hands on his jeans and then held them out to you, and you were in his arms in an instant. "Bradley," you mumbled against his chest as he squeezed you, getting your shirt a little damp in the process. But you didn't seem to mind. "I'm going to miss you."

Detailing and cleaning what used to be his dad's 1973 Bronco had become a way for him to relieve stress. He would get out the soap and turn on the hose when he needed a few minutes to himself. It was easier to be alone in his head, processing his thoughts and worries when he was washing the light blue masterpiece he'd spent so many years and a lot of money preserving. He always found himself in a better headspace to deal with whatever was troubling him when he spent some time with the Bronco. And today was no exception. 

"I'm going to miss you, too."

Sometimes it felt like the nearly five years you and he had been married were just spent alternating deployments. First he would be gone on an aircraft carrier for months on end, and then it would be your turn. You'd be sent abroad with the Navy before returning to him, and then the cycle would begin anew. Everything felt harder when you weren't around, and maybe that's why Bradley was out on the driveway right now instead of helping you pack for your early call time tomorrow morning. 

With your cheek pressed to his sternum, you cried softly. "It's only two months this time. And I'll have access to my phone. And I'll even be home in time for our anniversary. I don't know why I'm feeling so emotional about this."

He pressed his lips to your hair and whispered, "It's not like it gets any easier. You know that. I know that. It's going to feel like two months of hell on my end."

You sniffed hard then looked up at him with a little smirk. "At least you'll have the Bronco to keep you warm."

Bradley groaned and started to walk you backwards toward the house. "I mean, she's pretty and all, and I've definitely spent a night or two curled up around her gear shift, but I never gave her a diamond ring."

Your lips and your soft laughter against his neck sent a jolt of physical pleasure through his body, but he didn't want to rush this. He needed this to last, to hold him over for two months without your touch. Both of you tripped along to the bedroom where he smiled and whispered, "Let me show you that you're my number one girl. Let me prove you always will be."

Bradley was meticulous. He knew every inch of his Bronco, inside and out, but he knew you better. The sounds you made were prettier. The way you clung to him as he brought you pleasure was unparalleled. Your fingers laced with his as he connected his body with yours in the most intimate way, and it left him breathless.

"I love you."

-----------------------

Two days. He'd only been alone for two days, and he was already halfway through binge watching a season of a show that wasn't even that interesting. When he got home from work, he eyed up the couch and TV before ultimately changing into some sweats and heading back out to the driveway. He looked over the Bronco from hood to taillights, making a mental list of what she needed: new wiper blades, two new tires, and an oil change.

When he took his phone out to order the parts from his favorite website, he must have typed something wrong. It rerouted him to a vintage Ford resale page that left him staring at a sage green 1975 Bronco in rough condition. Man, she was still pretty though, with her original chrome and hubcaps. She was just an hour away, and the price wasn't too bad...

He glanced up at the blue gem in front of him. An idea started to take shape. He wondered how you would feel about it. With a smile, he ordered the wiper blades and oil filter that he needed and went inside to make dinner. But he couldn't stop picturing that chipped, green paint, and the vinyl that needed to be patched. 

If he knew he could get you hooked on a Bronco of your very own, he'd make this purchase. Two months to go. Shit, he might have just enough time to pull this off. He could practically picture you cranking the engine to life and waving goodbye as you pulled out of the driveway and took your Bronco for a spin. He wouldn't be able to say it with a straight face, but he'd say it anyway. "You love that thing more than you love me, Baby."

When he was stretched out on your side of the bed later that night, enveloped in your sweet scent that clung to the pillows, he closed his eyes and thought long and hard about what he wanted to do. It would be fun to prove to you once and for all where his loyalties lie. Or maybe it could just be a project that would keep him busy, and if you didn't like the idea, he could resell it after you got home. Either way, he drifted to sleep as he thought about you behind the wheel, and he knew it was too perfect to pass up.

----------------------

"Hey, Baby," Bradley said with a smirk as he answered his phone.

"Bradley! I miss you like crazy!"

"I miss you, too," he promised as he looked at the rather beat up, green Bronco before him. He got it for a great price when he offered to pay cash, and the tow truck just dropped it off a few days ago. Half of the engine was taken apart on a tarp at his feet, and it was currently jacked up so he could replace the oil pan. But he thought it was gorgeous. "I have a little surprise for you when you get home."

"A surprise?! Tell me. You know I can't wait that long."

"Nah," he said, kneeling down to check the wiring for the headlights. "I think I'll make you wait this one out."

"Rooster!"

"What?" he laughed, wedging the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he slipped his work gloves on and pulled at the loose wire. "You know, this is what you get for always giving me a hard time about my dad's Bronco. I love you so much, Baby, I'll make you wait for the surprise. It'll be sweeter that way."

"You're the worst," you groaned playfully. "Now I'll be thinking about what it could possibly be the whole time I'm gone. I'll be wondering what you have up your sleeve."

"As long as you're thinking about me, I'm happy," he rasped, and your pretty sigh in response left him a little breathless.

"I'm always thinking about you. Promise me as soon as I get back, we'll go for a long drive? Up along the coast? Late at night?"

He loved that idea. It would just look a little different than you were probably imagining if he could get this thing up and running again in time for your return. "We'll make a night of it," he promised. "I'll pack some blankets, and we can sit in the back and look out at the ocean. Can't guarantee I'll be able to keep my hands to myself though."

"Mmm. That's what I'm counting on."

----------------------

After about two weeks of watching a lot of YouTube videos posted by professionals, Bradley finally had the engine rebuilt. He was just waiting for some parts to arrive before he could put it back in place. "You're a needy one, aren't you?" he asked the green Bronco. "Nothing like her. She's a saint." He nodded his head toward the blue one before kneeling to replace the taillights. 

He was quickly realizing that the money he saved on the cost of the actual vehicle was being eaten up in the expensive, vintage parts. He was lucky he knew how to do most of this himself, even if it took twice as long. Today he was replacing the brakes and listening to a Motown playlist, and he fully realized that he felt calmest when he was with you or a Bronco. He snorted at how ridiculous that fact was as he scooted under the vehicle, but it was true. And having you tucked away in the back with the tailgate dropped, all wrapped up in a blanket while you turned him on just by existing.... well, that's when he would be happiest of all.

As the weeks wore on and the project progressed, the day finally arrived when it was time to try to start her up and take her for a little drive. Everything smelled like new rubber from the tires he'd just put on. The vinyl seats were still in bad shape, but when he slipped the key into the ignition and turned it, the engine purred to life.

Bradley's head tipped back as he groaned softly. "So fucking pretty. My god." He tapped the accelerator gently with his foot, enjoying the rev of the engine. He smoothed his hands along the steering wheel and the dashboard before he adjusted the rear view mirror to accommodate his height. Then he flicked the chrome switch and turned on the radio which he was surprised still worked.

My Girl by the Temptations poured from the speakers as the station crackled to life, and that felt like a very good sign. "Let's get out of here, Sweetheart," he whispered before shifting into reverse and leaving the driveway and his toolbox behind.

She was smooth and steady and everything he was hoping for. Would it ever fully compete with Goose's Bronco? Probably not. Was it worth the investment anyway? He'd find out next week when you got home. There were just a few things left to do before he dropped it off to be repainted and have the interior patched, and then she'd be good as new.

Bradley's phone rang in his pocket, and he smiled when he saw it was you. "Hey, Baby."

"Bradley! I miss you so much. I swear, if this thing was longer than two months, I wouldn't make it. What are you up to?"

"Oh, I'm just out for a little drive."

--------------------------

After eight weeks of nothing more than a few scant phone calls, Bradley was more than ready to have you home again. Maybe you and he could take a few days off from work. He'd help you catch up on some sleep after initially keeping you up all night. He already had some blankets ready to go as soon as you said you wanted to drive up to Carlsbad and watch the surfers at sunset before making love in the back of your Bronco.

Your Bronco. His wife's Bronco. It would take some getting used to, but it already made him smile every time he thought about it. With his hands on that familiar steering wheel, he drove toward the Naval base where both of you spent so much of your time. He waited, leaning against the light blue hood until you came running toward him in your uniform with your bags.

"Bradley!" you shrieked as you landed in his arms where you belonged. 

"I missed you," he promised, finally kissing your lips again after so many weeks. He felt your bag hit his foot, and he smiled as he tilted your face up for better access to your mouth.

"I missed you, too," you moaned softly, and he was already making the move to get you back home and remind you what you meant to him. But you dug your feet in outside the passenger door. 

"Where's my surprise?" you asked as you tucked your fingers into the top of his jeans and grinned up at him. "I've been thinking about it nonstop. Is it you?"

"No," he replied with a chuckle as his gaze drifted toward the Bronco. "You'll see soon enough."

You glanced at where he was looking, and you rolled your eyes before kissing his chin. "Did she keep you company while I was gone? She looks pristine, like you spend some time working on her."

Bradley kissed your forehead. "Just get in, Baby," he rasped. "The sooner we get home, the sooner your little surprise will make sense."

He knew the routine by heart now. The short ride home would start out with you holding his right hand and playing with his fingers while he drove. Then your hand would migrate to his thigh when the Bronco was about five blocks away. Then as soon as the tires touched the driveway, you'd unbuckle your seatbelt and make your way over to his lap.

The routine was important to him. He loved it. He loved taking you inside and directly to bed before coming back out much later to get the bags. He thrived on the return to normal life that was triggered by the routine. But today, he knew you weren't going to end up on his lap, and that was more than okay.

When your hand settled on his thigh exactly five blocks away from home, Bradley smiled. Your fingers crept up inch by inch as you leaned closer and whispered in his ear that you had their fifth wedding anniversary all planned out for the following weekend. You were playing with the zipper of his jeans by the time he could see the house, and he just waited for it. He was not disappointed.

"What the fuck is that?" you gasped, both hands going to the dashboard in front of you as you leaned to check out the freshly painted green Bronco as he coasted into the driveway. "Bradley?" you asked, glancing at him with wide eyes as he shifted into park.

He smiled and leaned over to kiss your softly parted lips. "This is your surprise. You're always joking about how much I love my Bronco, but I'll never love anything more than I love you."

You pressed your lips to his once before pulling away, shaking your head slightly. "So you got me one of my own?" you asked, jerking your thumb toward the green one.

He nodded and pulled his key from the ignition before pressing it into your palm. "Yep. She's all yours."

"Wait," you whispered, your brow creasing in confusion as you looked down at your hand. "This is your key."

"No, it's your key. The key to the green one is in the house. That's my key."

You gaped at him as your eyebrows shot upwards. "You're giving me your Bronco?"

"Yep."

"But," you whispered, turning to look out the window, "I can drive the other one."

"No, I bought the green one with myself in mind," he replied, taking your chin gently in his hand so you were looking at him again. "This one's better. She's sweet. Like you. She's yours."

"Oh my god, Bradley."

He was wrong; you did end up in his lap. Right where you belonged. His hands settled at your hips as you kissed every inch of his face while he laughed.

"I want to take her for a spin," you whispered, nudging him out of the driver's seat with your knee. "Go."

He smiled as he walked around to the passenger side of the blue Bronco, and he barely had the door closed before you started the engine and shifted into gear. "Pretty soon you'll love this thing more than you love me, Baby."

---------------------------

He gave you his Bronco. The green one was for him. That's how you know he loves you. I hope they do some nasty shit in the green one to break it in. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[charliemwrites]

Part 5 of Mister(s) Steal Your Girl

Long awaited, but no Johnny smut just yet. Soon, I promise. (And Kyle will be back. It's been so long since he's gotten to smooch our dear reader.)

Also! A little reminder than you can check the queue to see what I plan to post for next. I try to update it often as the worms wiggle. Next I plan to do the final chapter of Greater Bad. (Unless I get my not-so-secret, no-longer-a-surprise oneshot out first)

Lastly! Please note that I wrote the "posts" from his perspective. So inconsistencies with the actual story and any grammar/spelling errors were purposeful or for "authenticity".

Content: Brandon.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ I asked my fiancé for an open relationship before marriage. It worked. A while ago I posted on r/adultery about the affairs (yes, multiple) I was having behind my then-gf’s back. We’d already been dating for ~4 years and I was seeing one of my coworkers (my “work wife”) regularly and one of her coworkers on and off. People on my other post were critical and called me all sorts of things like selfish and pig. I know it’s not traditional, but I genuinely don’t think I could ever be satisfied by one woman. My work wife (Rachel) and fiance’s coworker (Lucy) provide things my fiancé just can’t but I still love my fiancé. She’s the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. When I posted on r/adultery I was trying to figure out how to propose without her finding out. I knew she’d expect me to help with stuff and possibly want to look at my phone more often. It would have been harder to sneak off to meet up with Lucy or Rachel with wedding planning and I was sick of being stressed she would find out. Some nicer people on the post suggested I ask for an open relationship. I took their advice and sat her down to sell the idea. It’s a good thing I’m so good at sales (top 3% in my company for 5 years in a row) because she agreed. Yes, actually agreed. At first she got kind of pale and her eyes got really big and blank. I thought for sure she was about to start crying and run off. Maybe even kick me out. She doesn’t really get angry but she gets upset and it freaks me out. After I explained everything about how good it would be for us though, she agreed. This is my official unlimited hallpass. I’ve been seeing Rachel on weekends and Lucy once or twice during the week for drinks. Tonight I’m going to sign up for every dating site I can. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge. If anyone has other suggestions, I’ll check those out too. Fiance has been kind of off but I think it’s just an adjustment period. Sometimes I can tell she’s been crying but she hasn’t come to me about it so she’s probably just being emotional about all the changes. At least she’s got our house to focus on while she gets used to things. I feel a little bad about running out every night but she’s just so mopey and sad all the time and it’s not enjoyable to be around. I know she probably feels like I’m abandoning her a little but once she starts getting back to normal I’ll spend time with her again. You really can have your cake (all the cakes heh) and eat them too. Edit: no, I never told her that I already had Lucy and Rachel and I’m not going to. What good would it do? She’s already agreed to an open relationship and telling her that I didn’t have permission first would just hurt her for no reason.

Kyle’s been gone for two (long, lonely) weeks when he finally gets a chance to call. So far, he’s only been able to send scattered texts at odd hours. Always something sweet – telling you he’s alright, or that he’s thinking of you. Sometimes you even catch him for a brief exchange before he apologizes and “goes dark” again.

Not that you begrudge it. This is part and parcel of dating him and you knew that going in. You’re not complaining when he’s putting his life on the line so that the public can live in blissful peace.

That doesn’t stop you from missing him though. His hugs, his smile. Getting his voice - even roughened by distance - is a nice compromise though.

“How have you been holding up, chickadee?” he asks after the initial reassurance that he’s whole and hale. 

“Easier this time!” you answer proudly. “I know what to expect with you gone and Johnny’s good company.”

“Yeah?” he asks, sounding pleased.

You can just imagine him now, leaning his hip against the nearest surface, arms crossed over his broad chest. He tends to duck his head when he smiles, and you unintentionally grin to yourself, thinking of him hiding into his phone. God, you miss him. 

“Mhmm! We found a board game bar that you’re going to love. Oh, and we’re going to the Hay Festival this weekend.”

He hums. “I’m sorry I can’t be there to take you, luv, but I knew Johnny would be good to you.”

More than good to you, really. There’s not been a day he doesn’t call to check up on you - if he doesn’t see you in person, that is. Dinner, movies, coffee. He’s somehow both a gentleman and an incorrigible flirt, but only with you. He’s nothing more than polite to anyone else, keeping his focus on you and whatever the two of you are doing.

You don’t know what to do with the undivided attention. If you didn’t know better…

“You two are getting close,” Kyle observes.

“I think so,” you admit, then hesitate. “Is… that okay?”

“‘Course, luv. I’m glad.”

You blink. “You are?”

“He’s my best mate and you’re my best girl.”

An odd pang of anxiety pierces your chest. Johnny calls you that too. His “best girl.” You love hearing it - but maybe you shouldn’t?

“It… doesn’t bother you? That we’re spending so much time together.”

He snorts softly, but it’s not derisive. It’s a noise he makes whenever he thinks you’re being silly, but his voice comes out soft and warm. Not an ounce of condescension.

“No, baby, I’m not fussed. You spend your time with whoever you want, however you want. Yeah?”

Your chest floods with warmth. “Okay.”

“There’s a love. I’ve got a brief, so I have to go. I’ll call soon as I can.”

“Be safe, Ky.”

“Do my best. Give Soap a smooch for us, aye?”

You blink as he hangs up. That’s a new one.

You ponder over it while packing on Thursday night. Was it just a joke? A tease at the little crush you’ve developed for Johnny?

Because it is a crush, you know it is. It’s impossible not to be attracted to him. Not with that smile, that laugh, the goofy humor and sweet mannerisms. He still sends you flowers every few weeks - just as the previous ones are about to die. It’s so thoughtful; you’ve started feeling a bit warm every time you look at them.

But you feel greedy, being even remotely interested in anyone else. You have Kyle and Brandon (even if you two are going through a… patch) and that should be enough for you. Shouldn’t it? You’ve never been with more than one person at a time before; it took you weeks to shake the compulsory guilt when you first met Kyle. It feels almost unforgivably audacious to want Johnny too, especially since he’s Kyle’s best mate.

Still… Kyle’s not a jealous or passive-aggressive guy. You’ve been with him long enough now that you know he’d just tell you outright if he was unhappy about something. And he’s been with you long enough that he can surely tell you’re more than a bit fond of Johnny.

Maybe that’s why he made the joke about “smooching” him.

Regardless, you want to talk to him about it. Things always make sense when you think out loud to him. His levelheaded and practical approach to difficult topics always straightens your panic spirals out into neat lines.

Plus, it’s not as comforting to hold your own hand. (God, when is he getting back?)

“Where are you going?”

You blink up at Brandon, folded pajamas in hand.

“The Hay Festival,” you answer.

Speaking of - you slip past him into the bathroom. He doesn’t follow, rooted to the spot spinning his phone around in his hands.

“Alone?”

You snort. “Of course not, I’m going with a friend.”

The allergy pills are at the bottom of the medicine basket beneath the sink. You really need to organize it the next time Johnny’s too busy to hang out. There’s no way you need three bottles of paracetamol. 

“I need that suitcase.”

You toss the bottle in and pivot for the dresser. “What for?”

He shifts, eyes sliding away. “An… overnight.”

Ah. That’s what he’s calling it now?

You snatch a few (too many) pairs of underwear from the dresser.

“Just bring them here,” you say over your shoulder.

There’s a long, tense beat of silence but you’re too busy rummaging for socks to break it first. Will it be too warm for thigh-highs? Eh, you’ll go with the sheer ones; the little lace roses match one of your dresses anyway.

“Bring who here?” Brandon asks slowly.

When you turn, he looks paler than usual. You shrug, trying to project casual comfort.

This is a totally normal and reasonable conversation to have. Just a couple in an open relationship, discussing a stranger coming to the house for a shag. Nothing to make a fuss over.

“Whoever you need the suitcase for? I know you’ve had people over before anyway, and I’ll be gone all weekend.”

He stutters, color returning to his face in bright pink blooms. “Why do you think I’ve had people over before?”

You arch an eyebrow. “I do the laundry, remember? And there was lipstick on one of the wine glasses.”

That had sent you into a tizzy at the time, disgusted that some stranger was in your bed, with your fiancé. You washed the sheets twice on the hottest setting and tossed in a bit of bleach for good measure. Hadn’t been able to look at him the whole week - not that he was there much to not look at.

Now, though, you seem to have adjusted to the idea, even if you’re still not thrilled. Brandon can have his… whoever over, and you’ll goof around with Johnny in Wales.

“Just toss the bedding in the wash afterwards,” you add.

“I thought you do the laundry,” he sniffs.

“I’m not traveling all day just to do chores when I get home,” you answer. He does a double take like you’ve started speaking a new language. “You’ll be here all weekend, I’m sure you’ll have time.”

He opens his mouth, and you can tell already that he’s about to argue - though you don’t really know what about. It’s not like he can’t do laundry or dishes, after all. He lived alone before you moved in together.

Thankfully, his phone distracts him before he can form the words. He spins away to tap at the screen and shuffles out of the room, shoulders till tense. You go back to packing and teasing Johnny about the amount of hair gel he’ll bring.

Friday afternoon can’t come fast enough. Even though you’ve taken a half day from work, the few hours seem to drag. You’re practically daydreaming about the food and drinks, music and activities. There’s a baker’s dozen art stalls you want to check out as well, and a gift to pick out for Kyle…

“Hope yer thinkin’ o’ me when ye make tha’ face.”

Your head snaps around so fast, you nearly give yourself whiplash. Johnny grins down at you in all his casually handsome glory – ripped jeans, green tee, and brown boots. Angels are singing somewhere, you think. Or maybe that’s just your nosy coworkers ogling from their own cubicles.

The reality of him sinks in a moment later and you leap up from your cushy chair – and right into his arms. He’s like a furnace compared to the cool, conditioned air of your office, a welcome source of warmth for your chilly fingers.

“What are you doing here?” you giggle. “Who let a rowdy guy like you in?”

He smells like bergamot and pine. It takes active thought to resist pressing your face into the crook of his neck. It looks cozy there.

As always, he squeezes you a bit tighter just before letting go.

“Hey now, Marcy’s a discerning lady. She knows a fine gentleman when she sees one.”

You snort, belied by the smile curling your lips. “She may need new glass then.”

“Och, don’t go talkin’ poor about my second-best gal now.”

“Is it that easy to get in your good graces?” you scoff, glancing at the time on your computer. It’s later than you expected; no wonder he came up to retrieve you. You spent so long daydreaming that you’ve lost track of time.

“Aw don’ be green, dove, you’re still my number one. Send ye flowers ‘n all.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, and now I’m wondering just how special that is.”

He stands close, proclaiming his case for how obviously special you are while you shut everything down for the weekend. You’re only half listening to the bit, admittedly. Mostly just basking in your excitement for the mini road trip and the weekend to come. You have no doubt that it’s going to be fun, even if it would be better with Kyle along too.

“Where are you headed off to?” Lucy asks.

“Hay Festival,” you answer shortly.

You’ve never been a big fan of Lucy, but lately she’s been insufferable. Talking over you during meetings, leaving you out of emails, throwing away papers at the printer. (Okay, you haven’t seen her do that last one, but you know.) Worst of all, she can help but make backhanded comments about every flower delivery.

“You’re not taking Brandon?” she simpers. “Something wrong?”

“He’s hanging out with a friend this weekend too,” you correct, “and he doesn’t like hay.”

“Shame that,” Johnny adds, sounding like it’s not a shame at all.

You haven’t told him much about Brandon – but you’re sure that Kyle has. From the face Johnny makes the rare times your fiancé comes up in conversation, he doesn’t think much of Brandon.

“Have fun you two!” your manager, Selene, calls.

You wave and shoot Lucy one last, unimpressed glance before stepping onto the elevator with Johnny.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ My fiancé is going on a weekend getaway with another man. I’ve posted in r/adultery and r/cakeeater before. I’m not looking for judgement or insults here. I really just want advice.

A little context: my fiancé and I are in an open relationship and it’s been like this for a few months now. I originally asked her to ope the relationship and for a while she was weird about it but lately she’s been getting sbetter. I thought she was finally getting used to me going out with other women and things were getting back to normal.

A few weeks ago, I noticed she was on her phone more. Like, all the time. Even at dinner when she used to be really picky about phones at the table. One day I came home from work and she was talking on the phone to someone. Giggling and laughing. When I turned the corner she was kind of blushing too. It kind of bothered me but I figured she was talking to a friend and just hot from cooking or something.

Lucy texted me pissed off one day, asking why I was sending my fiancé flowers but not her. I told her I hadn’t sent any flowers. I think they’re way too expensive for how long they realistically last and that they take up a lot of unnecessary space. But I thought it was weird that someone was sending my fiancé flowers and got kind of uncomfortable. That’s a pretty romantic gesture and her family isn’t the type to randomly send flowers either.

I tried taking her out on a date but she was all mopey again and turned her phone to ‘do not disturb’ so I wouldn’t even see if she was texting someone. We don’t have much to talk about now. I love her but she’s not a good storyteller or into very interesting things. All her ‘funny stories’ are just mundane things that happen during the day. We’ve run out of interesting topics about because we’ve been together so long. (That’s why I like having more than one partner.)

Yesterday she randomly started packing for a trip. I don’t even think she was planning to tell me until I asked her. She was packing a bunch of cute clothes too. Like dresses and tights and things like that. Stuff she only used to wear on our dates. I asked who she was going with and she just said ‘a friend’ which is weird because she would usually say the name of someone even if I don’t remember who they are.

Well today Lucy sent me a picture of my fiancé leaving her job with some guy. I couldn’t see his face because he was turned away, but I could see the side of my fiancé’s face and she was smiling at him. I got this awful sinking feeling in my chest like it was hard to breathe. It took me a few minutes to process that she’s going away for a weekend with a complete stranger.

Doesn’t she know how dangerous that is? Where did she even meet this guy? They’ll be gone all weekend so are they sharing a room? A bed? I nearly threw up thinking all these things as I called her.

I asked her to cancel her plans and come home. She seemed confused and reminded me that her plans were with someone else and it would be rude to ditch last minute. I told her I wanted to spend the weekend with her and that I’d been missing her. She seemed surprised and said that she’d see me on Sunday night, but she was looking forward to the festival with her ‘friend’ and wanted to go. As a last ditch effort I asked if her friend was more important than me, nearly begging at that point. She must have heard the desperation in my voice, but she just told me that she was already on the road and it was too late.

My fiancé doesn’t like lying but it’s hard to believe this guy was just a friend. Even if she sees him as a friend I know how men think and I doubt he sees her the same way.

She said some other weird stuff before she left about having someone over while she was gone. I don’t get it. How could she just casually invite someone else into our house like that? Has she had other people over? Is she dating now?

I’m not sure what to do. I don’t like that she put this trip over me. Should I talk to her about how bad this makes me feel? Should I call again and tell her to come home more forcefully? Am I blowing all of this out of proportion?

Edit: she doesn’t know that I’ve been seeing Lucy. I haven’t told my fiancé about any of the women I’ve been seeing. (mostly just Lucy and Rachel. I’ve done a lot of texting through apps and gone on a bunch of first place, but most women don’t put out right away and I usually can’t be bothered to get to know them better). Even then, I wouldn’t tell her about lucy. They don’t get along and never have. It would cause a lot of unnecessary drama.

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[allurilove]

Yandere Boyfriend x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: He cries, begging, use him!, gender neutral reader, he slips you some viagra, he becomes your maid—trying to get on your good graces, tie him up and blindfold him, doggystyle, he eats you out.

*Incase yall were wondering.. this is lol what I imagine yandere classmate/boyfriend looks like in his little uniform. This is the third post! And check out the first and second when you can! He is referred to as “your boyfriend” and this is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: He comes clean about his yandere tendencies, and how he lied about pretty much everything. Your boyfriend will do anything for you to take him back again.

He always dreaded this moment. The moment when he had to tell you the truth, and he hoped you wouldn’t look at him any differently.

He told you about how much of a sexual deviant he is, and how he never got accepted into the university, and how he got you to live with him.

You kicked out your boyfriend when he came clean. You wanted space from him, but he took it as a break up and he started to panic as a jerk reaction. He came by to your door everyday, and you only gave him five minutes to explain himself, and then you shut the door in his face. And like clockwork, he came again. Over time, you were slowly getting the full picture.

He liked you since highschool, followed you around, sniffed your locker when he missed you, befriended your siblings to see your room, and he often jerked himself off when he thought about you.

He showed up with flowers, chocolates, chips, your favorite food from the nicest restaurants, and even stuffed animals that could sing. He then slid letters underneath your door, and then he slid pictures of him incase you werent understanding how much he needed you. He would send his nudes through the phone, but you blocked him.

He did not get what a break meant. He hated that you wanted zero contact, and that you did not want to meet with him until you were ready to talk again. So, one last time he approached your door again. He knocked on the door, you peeked through the peephole, and saw he wasn’t holding anything this time. He was just wearing a dark hoodie, sweats, and his airpods shoved into his ears.

You opened the door just enough to get a good look at him. He…looked embarrassed? His face pink and he nervously fiddled with his hair.

“Can I come in..?” Your boyfriend asked. You slowly let him inside and your eyes widens as he pulled off his clothes. “Just hear me out-“

When he got his joggers pulled off, he revealed a little maid outfit. He wore this black and white skirt or dress, some white sheer tights, and had some bows in his hair.

“I’ll become your maid! I’ll clean, cook, and… sleep with you heh, if t-that’s just what you want!” He stuttered in the end to cover up the fact that he’s been so pent up. He didn’t want you to think that he’s still a sexual deviant (you so nicely called him).

So, over the next couple of weeks he would come over and clean your apartment. He would whistle some sweet tunes, vacuum the place, and he would occasionally flash a bit more leg at you. You found it humorous that he was trying to seduce you. The skirt of his dress would accidentally would be a bit too high up, and you caught sight of his erection. And he would try to be too helpful. If you were stressed out, he told you that you could hop on his cock.

He was becoming desperate for attention, and paranoid that you would find someone else during this “break.” He came around more often to clean your house, and he would sneak into your bedroom to snoop in your drawers. When you two were still dating, you had some scandalous intimates, and he audibly sighed when he saw none of those.

So, you weren’t seeing anyone new. He smiled as he chopped up some carrots for the stew he was cooking, he wanted to feed you well and make you happy. He snuck some viagra into your drink, and he handed it to you.

If you were being honest… you didn’t think that your boyfriend was capable of all of those things he was confessing to. You weren’t going to say that he’s dumb… but he definitely tended to act like he needed your attention and help 24/7. So, it was a surprise to hear that he was actually a massive pervert and manipulator. You continue to sit there with an impassive look on your face, your arms crossed, and you watch as he cried and sobbed. The viagra hasn’t kicked in yet, and he was cursing at himself for not giving you more. He tried to plead his case and get you to change your mind about him.

“I didn’t mean too!” He wailed. “It just happened so suddenly! I-It was like my feelings for you appeared overnight!” That was technically half true.

You did wish on a shooting star for a boyfriend, and the universe provided. But it turned into an unhealthy obsession, it turned an innocent man to start stalking you, and craving to be yours.

He could not stop, the tears in his eyes kept coming and he was on his knees. He knew any sane person would leave him in a heartbeat, they would dump his ass, and maybe even get a restraining order on him.

“You’re just so amazing! I fell in love with you immediately. It was like an instant connection..!” He pouted, and he crawled over to you. “Are you going to leave me?”

You heavily debated on it. He’s insane, that was pretty clear, and you also took a note that you should probably clean your sheets… and lock your room just in case. Your head still tried to wrap around the fact that he bought a plane ticket, and up-rooted his whole life…for you.

You sighed, “I might-“

“Don’t.” He quickly said, his eyes darkening and they narrow at you briefly. All before he nervously chuckles when you didn’t like his tone, and he reached for you, “W-What I meant was—“

“You can’t tell me what to do.” You scoffed and you took a step back. His hand falling down after you rejected his touch.

His lip started to quiver, and he bends down to kiss at your feet. “What can I do, my love?”

“You know I’ll do anything.”

You don’t know why, but you started to feel your body heat up. His lips looked so kissable and soft, his cheeks pink and tear-stained. You eventually gave in. You didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of seeing your body, so you unravel the ribbons in his hair, and cover his eyes. You used the other ribbons to tie his hands back.

He had to rely on his other senses to understand what you were doing. All he hears is a rustle of your clothes falling down to the floor, and you got him to lay on his back. You instructed him to open his mouth and he does so, his tongue sticking out in anticipation. He felt a presence nearby and he immediately tried to lick at it. His tongue feeling something warm and slick. He lifted his head up and buried himself into it, his tongue slipping inside to your core, and he probed for your g-spot. He pushed himself deeper, his neck straining to force his tongue deeper.

He wanted to use his hands to spread your legs further for him. He wanted to rip the blindfold off so he could see what he was doing, and make you feel better. He felt you pull away, and he latched his lips onto your heat to convince you to stay on his face. Your boyfriend huffed when his head fell back onto the floor, he licked his lips, and he felt you pull his boxers down. His cock sprung out— so eager for you to do whatever to it. A little dribble of cum spills out of his tip, and trailing down his shaft.

“fuhhhhck!” He let out a deep groan, your hand moving up and down his length as you put the condom on him. He wiggled his hips, imaging that it would be buried deep inside you. He could get off at the thought of you riding him.

You straddled his hips, his tip poking at your heat before you finally sank down on him. He bit his lip, his brows furrowed as you bounced up and down.

He still didn’t get to have sight privileges as you change positions. There was a ring of cum around his dick, and he began to harden again at your admiration. You praised him for doing so well, and you got onto all fours. He reached out for your hips, using his hands to guide himself behind you. He gently spreads your cheeks apart, and he glides right into you again.

He’s never heard of stopping at one time.

Once just wasn’t enough.

You let your boyfriend have a taste of you after months of shunning him. You had let him come to your graduation, but he had to stand from the distance, and he held a sign saying he “loves you.”

You were finally done with college and you were taking a right step in the direction, finding your own peace, and growing as a person.

But you just had to let him in.

Your boyfriend let out one final devastatingly brutal thrust—a sadistic smile tugging at his lips—and he knew he won you over when he heard you scream out his name.

Allure: Anywaaaaay! Idk if this will be the final, there might be another one where reader and him are engaged?? IDK don’t quote me.

[potofsoup]

Happy July 4th, everyone, and good luck to the UK voters out there!

Wow it's Year 11 of doing these!! Here's the AO3 link to the past 10 years, and here's the tumblr link.

Reminder that this is a long game -- some of the judges making decisions were appointed back in the 80s. Many of the cases that were decided this round were from Trump's term. So it's going to take long-term, consistent voting over a decade to start tipping things in the other direction. (Which I talked about in 2018 re: Trump shenanigans and 2022 re: Dobbs).

A lot has been done by the Biden administration (I'm assuming most folks have seen this post by boreal-sea with their very helpful sources), and much of that will be overturned by Trump, especially if he gets the Senate, and especially now that he would have a blank check for anything "official". So let's make sure that doesn't happen.

And even if Trump does get elected, your decisions down-ballot might effect control of the House or Senate, or might make it easier to vote next time, plus the whole plethora of state and local issues. It's Republican state attorney generals who are challenging climate regulations, for example.

Plus, when you really get down to it, only one of the candidates plans on pardoning himself and all his friends if he wins, and attacking the government if he loses. Maybe that guy shouldn't be the President.

If you're new to voting, remember to check voter registration deadlines! I'm a permanent vote-by-mail voter and it's so nice. :)

Transcript under the readmore

Page 1: Sam and Bucky meet up with Steve for a picnic. Steve: Thought you guys were still in Sudan? Bucky: I’m forcing Sam to take a break.

Sam collapses onto the picnic blanket. Sam: Oof, it just never stops, does it? Steve: Nope.

Bucky hands Sam an orange popsicle. Bucky: Eat and relax for a bit, Sam. Sam: Thanks.

Page 2: Bucky asks Steve: How are things state-side? Steve responds: HORRIBLE. Bucky: I thought you’ve been tentatively hopeful about what Biden has been able to achieve? Steve: I was! Student loans, child care, climate regulations, infrastructure, labor, trans rights … he’s quietly done a lot through regulatory improvements and congress bills. But now all people will talk about is how he’s OLD. And then there’s the Supreme Court’s decisions … Chevron and immunity… Steve puts his head in his hands, while Sam and Bucky look on with some concern.

Page 3: Bucky hands Steve a blue/raspberry popsicle: Steve, take a deep breath, and a popsicle. Sam: Sounds like we missed a lot. What’s going on? How bad is it? Steve: Pretty bad. The Supreme Court has made some decisions that give the Court and the President A LOT of discretionary power. Sam: Yikes, that doesn’t sound good. Steve: Well, the Chevron thing means that judges with life-term appointments can override policies made by government agencies. And now it’ll be harder to hold a President accountable because he will have immunity for any “official” actions.

Page 4: Sam: So if the President tries to, say, overturn a democratic election result, he’ll be allowed to as long as it’s in his job description? Steve: I don’t think threatening state electors is “official” business, but that will be decided by federal judges. Who get their jobs by approval from both the President and the Senate. Bucky: Yeesh. No wonder you’re stressed. Any good news? Steve: Well, thanks the Biden and the razor-thin Senate majority, the newer bills don’t rely on the Chevron deference. Still not great but not catastrophic. Sam, squirting ketchup on his hot dog: So what I’m hearing is that it’s now more important than ever to have a President and a Senate who you can trust to appoint fair judges, pass bills, and not commit crimes.

Page 5: Steve: Plus all of the state level offices, now that more and more deciding power has been thrown back to the states — abortion, LGBTQ rights, voting access… Bucky: Hey, at least this is a big election year so we can actually do something! Steve, with his arms crossed, looking surly: Except that all people want to talk about is how Biden is “too old” and “not doing enough,” as if that is on par with Trump’s desire to dismantle basic rights! As if the candidate who doesn’t embody ALL their ideals is not worth voting for! Bucky interrupts with a smart and a loud “PFFT.”

Page 6: Bucky: Um, Steve. YOU were like that in 1940. Sam, nudging Bucky: “Oh, this I gotta hear. Spill, Barnes.” In sepia, Steve is pacing around their apartment while Bucky is sitting and reading a newspaper. Steve: I can’t believe he’s running for a 3rd term! we need a fresh candidate to vote for! This is hardly a choice at all! AND he refuses to engage in Europe! All of Europe under fascist control and we’re just twiddling our thumbs? He’s letting millions die through his inaction! Bucky: Most people don’t want another war, Steve. If he came out for it, he would lose. Steve, indignant: But Buck, it’s your Polish relative who are in danger! Bucky, closing his newspaper and looking at Steve: Yeah, and between FDR and Willkes, I trust FDR to help if he could.

Page 7: Steve, in sepia, looking away: Should he be encouraged to do more? Maybe I should vote for Browder. The Communists have historically be Anti-Fascist.

Sam interrupts off-screen: Waitaminute! STEVE was going to PROTEST-VOTE? Steve: We were in a Blue State, Sam! Sam: But what about the down ballot races?! Steve: RELAX, I did my due diligence down-ballot. I wanted a senate that’s more progressive than the President.Voted LaGuardia for Mayor, too. Steve hesitates: Then, when I got to the President… I realized that the Best case scenario would be that my vote did nothing, versus if it actually spoiled the election. And when I asked myself who I could trust to work with my Senator… well, FDR had a good record with Labor. (sepia shot of young Steve voting) Bucky interrupts: Hold on, Steve.

Page 8: Bucky, eating a cookie, arching an eyebrow: You didn’t vote for Browder? Why didn’t you tell me? Steve: And have you say “I told you so” for the next century? Bucky: Heh.

Steve, with hand on his chin: What’s weird was that, despite everything, I still felt HORRIBLE when I ticked that box. Sam: Sounds like you built up the meaning of that vote far too much in your head. Logically, we know that a single box can’t represent all of the complexity of a whole system, but the desperately WANT it to. Just look at how people have built up so much around the term “Zionis” that it’s made productive conversations difficult.

Page 9: Sam and Steve speak in the background while Bucky reaches into the cooler and pulls out a box. Steve: Sigh. And that’s something that goes beyond the election. Sam: Which is why we need to vote, AND do other things. Bucky, looking at Steve and Sam: Like how Steve works to push organizations on the local level? Or like all the work you do as Captain America? Sam: Exactly. Vote AND.

Sam looks at Bucky fondly: Like how you vote AND make me and Steve take breaks. Bucky, looking stern because he can’t handle compliments: Shush, Sam.

Bucky holds up a cake that has the number “107” on it: It’s time for cake. Happy Birthday, Steve.

[pucksandpower]

Lover

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: the little (and not so little) ways that you and Charles show your love for each other

You’re in the kitchen, phone pressed to your ear as you listen intently to Charles’ mother give you her famous tiramisu recipe step-by-step. “Now, this next part is very important,” she stresses. “You’ll need one cup of granulated sugar to add to the mascarpone filling.”

“Got it, one cup sugar for the filling,” you confirm.

Pascale chuckles warmly. “I’m so glad Charles has found such a lovely girl who wants to learn my recipes. He’s always loved my tiramisu since he was a little boy.”

You smile, touched by her kind words. You and Charles have been together for a year now, but it still makes your heart flutter to be so accepted into his close-knit family.

“It means so much to me that you’re sharing this recipe with me,” you tell Pascale sincerely.

You chat with her a while longer, going over some of the trickier steps and getting tips on how to best soak the ladyfingers. Finally, you have the full recipe memorized and are ready to give it a try.

“Okay, I think I’ve got it now. Thank you so much again, Pascale! I really appreciate you taking the time to walk me through this.”

“Of course, chère! Let me know how it turns out. Charles is a lucky man to have such a thoughtful girlfriend,” Pascale says warmly before hanging up.

You grin, eager to get started. You know tiramisu is Charles’ absolute favorite dessert and you want to surprise him with a homemade version tonight after he finally comes back from his latest race.

Humming to yourself, you gather the ingredients — mascarpone, eggs, espresso, cocoa powder, and of course, the sugar. You double check you have everything and preheat the oven so the ladyfingers will be perfect.

As you start the recipe, you feel a rush of excitement. You follow each step meticulously, Pascale’s voice guiding you in your mind. You carefully separate the eggs and beat the whites to stiff peaks. When it’s time to add the sugar to the mascarpone filling, you pause.

Now, which one was the sugar again? You look between the two identical jars of white powder, second-guessing yourself.

Shoot, you should have labeled them.

After a moment of hesitation, you decide on the bowl on the left. Yes, that must be sugar, you reassure yourself. You mix it into the silky mascarpone filling until it’s perfectly combined. Once assembled, you spread the filling over the ladyfingers and cover it with a final dusting of cocoa powder.

It looks absolutely beautiful. You did it! You made Charles’ favorite dessert completely from scratch. You can’t wait to see the look on his face when he takes the first delicious bite.

You glance at the clock as you clean up. Charles will be home soon. You carefully store the tiramisu in the fridge to chill until after dinner.

Right on time, you hear Charles’ keys in the lock. You hurry to greet him, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. “I missed you!”

He grins and nuzzles your neck. “And I missed you, ma belle.”

Over dinner on the balcony, Charles tells you all about the race and his ambitious one-stop strategy under the Suzuka cherry blossoms. You listen attentively, asking questions and laughing at his dramatic reenactments.

Finally, it’s time for dessert. “I have a surprise for you,” you say with a playful smile.

Charles’ eyes light up. “Oh really? Do tell!”

You bring the chilled tiramisu to the table, along with two small plates and forks. “Ta-da! I made your favorite, with your mom’s secret recipe.”

“No way, you’re kidding!” Charles exclaims. He takes in the layered dessert with delight. “It looks incredible, mon cœur. I can’t believe you did this for me.”

You blush happily as you dish out servings for both of you. “I hope I did it justice. Your mom walked me through the whole thing over the phone.”

Charles takes a big eager bite, closing his eyes as he savors it. “Mmm … it’s absolutely delicious,” he declares after swallowing. “Seriously, this is amazing. Here, you have to try it!”

He holds out a forkful toward you. You accept it into your mouth, immediately bursting into incredulous laughter. “Oh my god, this is so salty! I definitely screwed up somewhere. You don’t have to eat it!”

But Charles just grins and takes another hearty bite. “What do you mean? It tastes perfect to me.”

You stare at him in confusion. “You can’t actually like this, Charles. It’s like I poured the entire salt shaker in by accident.”

“No no, it’s great! The best tiramisu I’ve ever had,” he insists. Seeing your disbelief, he takes your hand from across the table. “Really, Y/N. I love it because you made it just for me. With love. That’s what makes it so special.”

You feel your insides turn soft and melty at his words. “You’re just saying that to be nice,” you protest weakly.

He shakes his head. “I’m saying it because it’s true. Because ...” He pauses, looking into your eyes sincerely. “Because I’m completely in love with you, mon amour. I’d eat a thousand salty tiramisus if it made you smile like this.”

You can’t help the joyful laugh that escapes you. “You’re such a hopeless romantic, you know that?” You tease him.

“Only for you,” he flirts back with a playful wink.

You lean across the table to kiss him tenderly. When you pull back, the adoration shining in his green eyes leaves you breathless.

Maybe he’s right. It doesn’t matter that the tiramisu is an utter fail. All that matters is that you made it with love.

And that’s the sweetest taste of all.

***

It’s been a few weeks since your salty tiramisu mishap. You and Charles laughed about it afterwards, but you were still determined to make him something special with your own two hands.

So you decided to take up crocheting. It was trickier than you expected, but you persevered, watching YouTube tutorials and getting tangled in yarn for hours.

Finally, after a month of work, you’ve produced your first wearable creation — a sweater for Charles.

It’s an oversized style, cream colored with red racing stripes across the chest. You did your best to evenly stitch the rows, but there are gaps in some places that cause the stripes to waver drunkenly.

The sleeves are several inches too long, dangling adorably over Charles’ hands when he tries it on. And the neckline gapes open no matter how he tugs it.

But none of the flaws matter to Charles. His face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning when you present it to him.

“You made this? For me?” He asks as he eagerly pulls it on.

You nod, suddenly shy. “I wanted to make something special for you, even if my skills are still .... developing,” you admit with an embarrassed chuckle.

But Charles is beaming, admiring himself in the mirror. “It’s perfect! Seriously, I love it. This is the best gift ever!”

He engulfs you in a big hug, sleeves flopping over you. You hug him back, relieved and happy he appreciates your efforts.

From that day on, Charles insists on wearing the sweater constantly, even styling it with whatever eclectic pants he decides to wear on race weekends.

You try to discourage him — the holes along the hem are getting bigger from snagging and the neckline is truly unsalvageable.

But Charles won’t hear it. “Are you kidding? This is my new lucky charm!” He declares. “I have to wear it for every race now.”

Sure enough, he starts a winning streak whenever he dons your handmade sweater, even though it’s quite a departure from the fitted shirts and designer hoodies he previously favored, leaving his fans scratching their heads at the sudden change.

You watch in amused endearment as he proudly wears your gift for candid pre-race interviews and photo-ops. The overlong sleeves just make his exuberant gestures even more adorable.

Finally, a reporter works up the courage to ask him about the quirky sweater. “That’s quite a statement piece you have been arriving in each Sunday,” the reporter comments during a press conference. “What made you decide to wear it?”

Charles’ face lights up even more. “My sweater? It was handmade for me by my incredible girlfriend,” he announces, making you blush furiously from the audience.

“She worked so hard on it, even though crocheting is totally new to her. So I wear it to show how much I appreciate her and how talented she is,” he continues sincerely.

The reporters “aww” as Charles shows off the uneven stitches like they’re couture. “It’s my good luck charm now too! She put so much love into making it that I feel like I can’t lose whenever I have it on.”

He looks directly at you, eyes shining. “It’s the best gift I’ve ever received, because she made it just for me. I’m the luckiest man in the world to be with someone so thoughtful and caring.”

You have to wipe away joyful tears at his heartfelt words. You never imagined your clumsy crocheting would come to mean so much to him.

But Charles wears that sweater for every race, no matter how tattered it gets. Because for him, it represents something priceless — your love.

***

You hum along to the radio as you stir the melted chocolate in a bowl. The rich aroma fills the air of your shared apartment. Today is Valentine’s Day and you want to surprise your boyfriend with homemade chocolate-covered strawberries when he gets home from training.

You dip the first plump, red strawberry into the silky chocolate, letting the excess drip off before placing it gently onto a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. One by one, you coat each strawberry, taking care to fully submerge them.

When the tray is full, you quickly pop one glistening strawberry into your mouth and slide the rest into the fridge to let the chocolate harden. As you wait, you tidy up the kitchen, washing the bowls and utensils used to make the treat. A glance at the clock on the microwave tells you Charles will be home soon.

The sound of the front door opening makes you grin. “Mon amour, I’m back!” Charles calls out.

You grab the tray of chocolate-covered strawberries and head towards his voice. “Welcome home! I have a surprise for y-”

You stop short, your throat suddenly feeling scratchy and tight. Your lips tingle oddly.

Confused, you lift a hand to your neck. Is this just excitement to see Charles? But no, your tongue is starting to swell now too. Your breathing becomes labored.

Charles rounds the corner. “Mon ange, what’s wro-” His eyes widen as he takes in your distress. In a few quick strides he is by your side, the tray clattering forgotten to the floor. “What’s happening?”

You wheeze, barely able to force out words. “Can’t … breathe …”

Charles sweeps you into his arms and runs for the front door. “Hospital. Now.”

You cling to him, each ragged breath a struggle. The world seems to blur and tilt alarmingly.

Then somehow you’re in Charles’ car, speeding down the street. One of his hands grips the wheel while the other clutches yours tightly. “Just hold on, stay with me. We’re almost there.”

You try to respond but only manage a choked gurgle. Black spots swim across your vision. A feeling of detachment steals over you.

The car screeches to a stop outside the emergency department entrance. Charles lifts you from the passenger seat, calling for help. There is a flurry of activity as a team of doctors and nurses rushes over with a gurney.

You are barely aware of being wheeled into an exam room, too focused on trying to pull air into your lungs. A mask is fitted over your face, dispensing blessed oxygen. An IV is inserted into your arm.

The medical staff works quickly, asking Charles questions as they begin treatment. Antihistamines. Steroids. Epinephrine. The medications slowly start to counteract your reaction. The vice-like tightness in your chest and throat gradually lessens.

After what feels like an eternity, you are able to take full breaths again. The room comes back into focus, no longer spinning. Charles sits at your bedside, clutching your hand, his handsome face creased with worry.

The doctor examines you, nodding with satisfaction as your symptoms continue to improve. “It appears you had a severe allergic reaction. We’ll run some tests to determine the cause.”

Charles looks stricken. “But how? What could have possibly …” His gaze falls on your swollen lips. “The strawberries,” he whispers.

You nod weakly. It had to have been. You’ve never reacted to them before, but an allergy can develop at any time.

Charles smoothes back your hair, distress pouring off of him. “I’m so sorry, mon cœur. I should have been there with you.”

You squeeze his hand. “You couldn’t have known. I’m okay now thanks to you.”

He just shakes his head, unconvinced.

The testing confirms it — you are now mysteriously allergic to strawberries. The doctor gives you an EpiPen prescription and strict instructions to the fruit in the future.

After several more hours of observation, you are finally discharged from the hospital with an exhausted Charles supporting you.

The sun has long since set on what was supposed to have been a romantic Valentine’s Day. Instead, you spent it swollen and terrified in the ER.

Back home, Charles tucks you into bed, insisting you rest. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror — puffy-faced and red-eyed — and cringe. Some Valentine you turned out to be.

You reach for Charles’ hand again. “I’m so sorry I ruined our evening. I wanted it to be perfect but instead I ended up scaring you half to death and forcing you to rush me to the hospital.”

Charles silences you with a gentle kiss. “Not another word, mon amour. You have nothing to apologize for. All that matters is that you are safe.”

He caresses your cheek, looking at you with such love and tenderness it makes your heart ache. “You could never ruin anything. You are the light of my life — my everything. No Valentine’s Day is complete without you.”

You feel yourself tearing up. Even after the ordeal of this evening, he still looks at you like you hung the moon.

“You’re still the most beautiful Valentine I’ve ever had, you know that? A little swelling can’t hide that.” Charles brushes away your tears and pulls you close. “Rest now. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

You nestle into his embrace, letting his warmth and steady heartbeat soothe you. As you drift off, you can’t help but marvel at how lucky you are to have this man. Even at your puffiest and most distressed, he thinks you’re beautiful.

No matter what surprises life throws at you, with Charles by your side you know everything will be okay. He loves you unconditionally — swollen lips, hospital visits, and all.

***

“Close your eyes,” you say to Charles as you lead him into the living room.

He laughs and covers his eyes with his hands. “What are you up to, mon amour?”

You grin, though he cannot see it. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

You guide him across the room, hands on his shoulders. He shuffles along, peeking through his fingers.

“No peeking!” You scold, and he squeezes his eyes shut again, smiling.

You position him in front of the coffee table. “Okay,” you say. “You can open your eyes now.”

Charles drops his hands. On the table sits a large gift-wrapped box with a massive red bow on top. His eyes go wide with surprise and delight.

“For me?”

You nod, bouncing on your toes excitedly. “Happy birthday!”

He pulls you into a tight hug. “You are too good to me, ma belle. Thank you.” Leaning down, he captures your lips in a sweet kiss.

You swat his shoulder playfully. “You don’t even know what it is yet! Open it.”

Charles grins and turns his attention to the present. He carefully unties the bow and lifts the lid on the box. Inside sits a sleek red bomber jacket with the Ferrari logo embroidered on the chest. He runs his fingers over the leather appreciatively.

“This is beautiful,” he murmurs.

“Look on the back,” you prompt.

Charles turns the jacket over. Across the back, in bold white letters, it reads: DADDY.

His eyes go wide again, and for a moment he just stands there gaping at the jacket. Then his eyes roll back in his head and he collapses to the floor in a dead faint.

“Charles!” You rush to his side, kneeling next to him on the plush carpet. Gently you pat his cheek, trying to rouse him. “Charles, wake up!”

After a few tense moments, his eyelashes begin to flutter. You breathe a sigh of relief as he opens his eyes.

“Wha … what happened?” He mumbles.

“You fainted, silly.”

You help him sit up slowly. He puts a hand to his head, still looking dazed.

“I had the strangest dream …” He trails off, glancing around the room. His gaze lands on the jacket lying nearby, and his eyes widen again.

“It wasn’t a dream,” you say softly.

Charles looks at you, lips parted in shock. “Then you … you’re …”

You furrow your brow in confusion. “I’m what?”

“Pregnant!” He exclaims. “We’re having a baby!”

Now it’s your turn for your eyes to go wide. “What? No! I’m not pregnant!”

Charles frowns, thoroughly bewildered. “But the jacket said … I thought it was your way of telling me we’re expecting.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Oh my goodness, no. The jacket is for a very different reason.”

He looks almost disappointed. “It is?”

You take his hands in yours. “I know you’ve been talking about getting a dog for months now, ever since you met Mimi.”

Comprehension begins to dawn on Charles’s face. “So the jacket …”

“Is for our new puppy!” You finish excitedly.

Charles’ face lights up. “You got me a dog? Really?”

You nod, grinning. “Really! I picked him up yesterday from the shelter. He’s the cutest little dachshund, white with brown spots. I’ve been keeping him at your brother’s so I could surprise you today.”

Charles whoops and tackles you in another ecstatic hug. You laugh as he covers your face in rapid, smacking kisses.

“This is the best birthday surprise ever!” He crows. “I can’t believe we’re finally getting a dog. And the jacket — it’s perfect!”

He grabs the bomber and shrugs it on over his t-shirt. It fits him flawlessly, the white lettering bold against the red.

Charles scrambles to his feet and rushes to the nearest mirror, twisting this way and that to admire himself. “I love it! Thank you, thank you!”

You stand and wrap your arms around him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I’m so glad. But you should really be thanking your new baby boy.”

Charles turns in your arms and cups your face in his hands. “Have I told you lately that you’re the best girlfriend in the world?”

You grin up at him. “Hmm, I don’t recall. Feel free to remind me.”

“You …” He punctuates each word with a kiss. “Are …” kiss “The …” kiss “Most …” kiss “Thoughtful …” kiss “Loving …” kiss “Girlfriend …” kiss “In …” kiss “The …” kiss “World.”

You pretend to swoon. “My, what a sweet talker you are.”

He chuckles and kisses you tenderly. When you break apart, his eyes are shining.

“So when do I get to meet our new baby?” He asks eagerly.

“Right now, if you want,” you say. “We can go pick him up from Lorenzo.”

Charles pumps a fist in the air. “Yes! I’m going to be the best dog dad ever, just you wait and see.” He crouches down and coos, “Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy?”

You pat his head playfully. “You’re a good boy.”

Taking your hand, he practically drags you out the door, babbling excitedly about names, beds, toys, and treats for the puppy the whole way to the car. Your heart swells watching his enthusiasm. You know that dog is going to be the most loved and cared for pup in the world.

When you arrive at his brother’s apartment, Charles bounds up to the front door ahead of you, unable to contain his excitement. Lorenzo opens it laughing, the wiggling brown and white puppy in his arms.

“Someone’s here to see you!” He says, handing the squirming bundle of fluff to Charles.

“Hello, hello!” Charles cuddles the puppy to his chest, his whole face alight with pure joy. The pup responds by licking every inch of Charles’ face he can reach.

Charles laughs delightedly. “Aren’t you just the sweetest boy? Yes you are!”

He looks up at you, eyes shining. “Thank you, mon cœur. This is the best gift I could have asked for.”

You lean in and scratch the puppy behind his silky ears. “Of course. Happy birthday, my love.”

As you walk back to the car, Charles cradling the puppy like a newborn, you know in your heart that your little family is one step closer to completion.

***

The race weekend after Charles’ birthday feels strange. As you wander through the Ferrari garage during free practice, Fred rushes over looking concerned.

“Here, take a seat,” the team principal says, grabbing a folding chair and positioning it behind you. “You should not be on your feet so much in your condition.”

You frown in confusion. “What condition?”

But the French man has already hurried away. Shaking your head, you continue walking. It’s a few minutes later that you spot Pierre.

“Hey!” He says, jogging up to you. Before you can react, he places both hands on your stomach and smiles brightly. “Wow, it’s hard to believe that little baby Leclerc is in there! I can’t wait to meet my niece or nephew.”

Now you’re really bewildered. You take a small step back from Pierre’s wandering hands. “What are you talking about? I’m not pregnant!”

Pierre laughs. “Very funny. You don’t have to hide it from me.” He winks and walks away.

When Charles finds you later, you’re still puzzling over the strange encounter.

“Everyone is acting so weird,” you tell him, explaining what’s been happening all day. "It’s like they all think I’m pregnant or something."

Charles frowns. “That is odd. Where would they get that idea?”

You shake your head. “I have no idea …”

Later, after the last practice session of the day, you wander into Ferrari hospitality for a quick cup of coffee. Carlos quickly spots you and makes a beeline over, cheeks flushed with excitement.

“I just saw the photos of Charles wearing his new jacket.” He says. “A mini Leclerc on the way, how wonderful! Congratulations to you both.”

“What? No, there’s no …” you start to protest, but Carlos is already walking away.

Charles comes up beside you, having overheard. “This is getting out of hand,” he mutters. “We need to clear this up.”

“I know!” You say. “I feel bad, they all seem so excited. They must think we’re hiding a pregnancy from them.”

An idea comes to you then. Turning to Charles, you say loudly, “Honey, why don’t we go introduce the baby to everyone? I know they’re all just dying to meet him!”

Charles catches on immediately, smiling slyly. “Of course! Let’s go get our little one right now.”

You nod, linking your arm through his. As you walk away, you hear gasps and murmurs behind you.

“They already had the baby? When did this happen?”

“I can’t believe they’ve been hiding it all this time!”

You have to stifle a laugh. Charles grins and squeezes your hand.

In his driver’s room, your puppy is napping contentedly on a plush dog bed. Charles scoops him up gently so as not to wake him. Cradling the pup, you both head back out to the hospitality suite.

Everyone turns to look at you eagerly as you enter. Carlos steps forward, craning his neck to see the bundle in Charles’ arms.

“Here he is!” You announce proudly. “Our baby boy!”

Charles turns so they can see the sleeping dachshund nestled against his bomber jacket. A shocked silence falls over the room.

“Wha … that’s not a baby!” Carlos splutters. “That’s a dog!”

You and Charles just shrug with matching sly smiles. “He’s our baby.”

As the puppy yawns and stretches in Charles’ arms, licking his chin affectionately, you know with certainty that your furry new addition will be showered with just as much love and adoration as you both share for one another.

Who could ask for anything more?

[astro-inthestars]

My tumbler and my phone is missing and I have never been more distressed!! :D