#''it was kind of planned'' WHY NOW THOUGH you JUST went full time and you had a rental crisis two months ago how the FUCK-

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: nsfw, dubcon, yandere, omegaverse, forced/accidental bonding, subjugation

♡ part one

♡ fem reader

Once you wake up in the morning, you feel… changed.

Your body feels full—as though you’d indulged too much last night—heavy and sticky and sore all over. There’s a strange taste in your mouth—sweet, somewhat salty, and metallic. Geez, you’re head’s pounding—how much did you drink last night? No, this feels different from a hangover—more full-bodied than that—a withdrawal of some kind or another. You must have done more at the party than drink, and yet, you can’t remember having stayed there all that long. No, you left with someone. That’s right. You went with… that overgrown Omega.

Oh no.

“Good morning, sleepyhead!”

He comes in only wearing a pair of snug boxers—body stacked with brawn, not a single hint of Omega-like softness aside from his tousled bed hair. There’s a big toothy smile on his face—eyes are creased in cheer while carrying an overfull breakfast tray. You know you’re hungry, and yet you can’t bring yourself to feel anything but sick to your stomach by the horrid sight of his flaunted neck, decorated by a gory ring of your bitemark.

No. No, no, no, no, no! Fuck! “Tell me that’s not what I think it is…”

He laughs lightly with an awkward smile, apologetically scratching the back of his neck while balancing the tray in the other hand. “I’m afraid so…”

The world stops spinning, and for a moment, you think it might actually never start up again. Your throat snares, and you think you might throw up. How the fuck could this happen?

He sets the tray down next to you, then himself. The whole bed takes waves upon his weight. You remain still—eyes unrest and mouth hung.

“Hey, I know this might not be what we had planned, but…” he starts.

But you don’t let him finish before declaring, “I’ll take full responsibility.”

There’s nothing else to do, you think. The red string of fate has tied the two of you together. It’s sealed.

“There is no going back now.”

His face expresses shock, but if you’d taken a closer look, he’d probably not be able to hide it—the overwhelming sensation of victory. Oh, bless your Alpha pride. He knew you would say that.

He smiles softly. “I’m in your care then.”

It’s a work in progress after that—slow in the beginning, but that’s to be expected. You never pegged yourself to be the type who got caught up in the unmendable mistakes of a one-night stand, but then here you were—mated with a stranger, moving into his apartment because it’s bigger and closer to work, sharing the same bed and eating the same meals and helping each other through one another’s ruts and heats.

He's still no closer to being your type. In fact, he’s the total opposite—too giant to give you even a semblance worth of superiority over him. A couple of days ago, when he’d been searching for the remote in the couch you were lying on, he’d taken to pick you up instead of just asking you to move. It was completely humiliating. He’s so brazen, and it’s starting to become clear he’s doing it all on purpose!

He doesn’t get fussy when you state your claim of being the one on top—no, but what he does instead is somehow worse, going along with it with snide praise, grinning up at you, his big hands weighing heavy on your haunches as you roll them, calling you his good girl. It seems to humor him how it angers you—chuckling behind your hands as you layer them both atop his mouth, growling at him to “Shut up!”

No, he doesn’t mind letting you take charge. He rather enjoys the view of watching you ride—working so hard to appease him while he rests pretty and admires your body—all soft edges and plush curves. You tire quickly, though—poor thing, why don’t you leave the rest to him?

You had rejected it the first few times he’d offered. Your bruised pride simply wouldn’t have it—you’d rather you both stop than let him finish you off. But a couple more nights and you’d quicker come around than either of you expected—perhaps worn down by his constant nagging or simply fed up with your own failure—you let him assist by bouncing you on his lap.

You wouldn’t admit it to his face, never, but you’d enjoyed it far more than you could have ever thought…

Thankfully, your face in and of its own glory told him all he needed to know. It didn’t take long before he’d taken full advantage of it, nor for you to begin allowing it without being asked. Soon you were letting him fuck you against the wall, making the entire room shake—wall creaking and shelves rattling, pictures falling down. You hold your tongue and hold on tightly, arms and legs wrapped around him—moaning sweetly right by his ear. Fuck, you even bite him again.

As time passed, you came around to indulging more and more of his antics. Letting him fuck you from behind—hard and heavy and deep—thrusting into you while grappling your waist. You even go down on all fours when he does it—digging your claws into the sheets.

Lying belly-up beneath him still makes you feel nervous—and slightly ashamed—almost convinced something’s wrong with you for liking it. And yet you can’t help it. You know any other Omega wouldn’t fuck you like this. They wouldn’t have the stamina, the drive, or the desire. Not like him, who does it all like it’s his nature even when it shouldn’t be.

Guess you’re both freaks.

♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Hawks, Amajiki ♡ JJK – Gojo, Geto ♡ HQ – Kuro, Oikawa, Miya twins, Tendou ♡ BLLK – Reo, Nagi, Bachira, Isagi ♡ DS – Doma ♡ WB – Suo, Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[zenmai--jikake--no--komoriuta]

woke up to fifty million people trying to get a hold of me for various reasons... I have work trying to call me in because nobody else is responding but my recently-pregnant coworker is feeling sick again and there's so many tasks to do and they're desperate, 5 different messenger chats and family members trying to finalise holiday plans but I'm so burnt out with this fucking holiday that I don't even want to think about it anymore, my physiotherapist emailing to ask if I'm ok bc I haven't done any of my exercises since last week when I left a note at 3am about being kept awake with the worst hip pain I've had in months................ I just want to be left alone right now holy shit why is everyone asking everything of me all at once, this is the last proper day I'm going to get to spend with james before the holiday and now I'm in guilt mode and can't settle down because everything is time-sensitive and I can't put off responding to half of this any more than I already have,,, ,,

[malavera]

Peaches: “Would you be so kind in lending a hand?” (18+) — Logan Howlett

summary: the friendly old man neighbor of yours is helping you with your wash day

warning: the setting of this one-shot is AU no correlation to Wolverine & Deadpool, SMUT! MDNI, fingering, female oral receiving, age gap (legal), no use of Y/N, the use of pet name peach, sir kink, squirting

wc: 3.5k (well it's a full shot not a drabble ehe)

creds: i forgot where the divider is from, creds to the creator!

dedicating this one to my favorite authors!

@velvrei @wolverinesleftclaw @stark-ironman @lovelybucky1 @cyber333angel @dollverine @joelsgoldrush

peaches masterlist

The day had finally come when you decided enough was enough. The laundry had been sitting there for three days, staring at you from the corner of your room like a silent accusation. Today was the day you would conquer it. Armed with your resolve, you hauled the overflowing basket to the laundry room. But as fate would have it, the universe had other plans.

The washing machine, that steadfast appliance you’d trusted for years, chose this very moment to betray you. The once familiar hum was replaced by a groan, a sputter, and then—nothing. You stared at it, disbelief turning to frustration as you realized the mountain of clothes in your arms was going nowhere. Your favorite pair of undies, buried somewhere in the pile, would have to wait.

You let out a long sigh, leaning back against the machine, its cool surface doing little to soothe your annoyance. Arms crossed, you dialed your father’s number, hoping for some semblance of a solution.

“Dad, the washing machine broke,” you said, half hoping he’d have a quick fix, half dreading his response.

There was a pause before he spoke, his voice calm, almost too calm. “Ask Logan for help, he’s pretty handy with stuff. I won’t be back until 8 PM tonight, buttercup.”

You nearly dropped the phone. Logan. Of course, it had to be him. The very thought of knocking on his door, asking him for help, sent a thrill of anxiety coursing through you. Why did it have to be him?

Logan Howlett—the man who occupied your thoughts far too often, the man who was the face of your wildest dreams. Just the mention of his name made your heart race. And now, you were supposed to ask him for help? The universe certainly had a twisted sense of humor.

You ended the call, staring at the washing machine like it was some cruel joke. The burnt toast theory, they called it. Sometimes, when things went wrong, it was the universe’s way of steering you toward something better. But as you stood there, contemplating the inevitable encounter with Logan, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was a blessing in disguise—or a test you weren’t sure you could pass.

Logan Howlett had been a fixture in your mind for five long months, ever since he moved into the neighborhood. It wasn’t just his rugged good looks or the way he carried himself with that effortless confidence; it was the way he seemed to have slipped so seamlessly into your life. Your dad, always quick to befriend a fellow drinker, had taken to him immediately. They were practically inseparable, sharing beers on the front porch, watching games in the living room, and even lingering over meals in the dining room.

And there you were, sneaking glances every time Logan was around, feeling that unmistakable flutter in your chest whenever he caught your eye.

Today, though, was different. Somehow, you found yourself standing on his porch, heart pounding as your fist hovered in mid-air. What were you thinking? Asking Logan for help—it felt too forward, too direct. But here you were, ignoring every ounce of self-doubt, raising your hand to knock on his door.

You barely had time to second-guess yourself before the door swung open. And there he was, the embodiment of everything that had been haunting your thoughts for months: tall, effortlessly sexy, his dark hair tousled just right. He was wearing a white shirt that clung to his broad chest and shoulders, tucked into denim jeans that fit him perfectly. You couldn’t help but notice how the summer sun cast a warm glow on his skin, making the moment feel almost surreal.

“Hey,” Logan’s voice broke through your reverie, casual yet deep enough to send a shiver down your spine. He squinted against the sunlight, his expression shifting into one of familiarity. “I was about to come over. Your dad called and asked me to check on something.”

You swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady as your mind raced. “Yeah, the washing machine broke. Dad said you could help… Would you be so kind in lending a hand?”

You could hear your own voice, slightly strained as you tried to strike the perfect balance. Not too high-pitched, not too low. Not too eager, not too aloof. But before you could overthink it any further, Logan flashed you a small smile, one that made your heart do a little flip.

“Yeah, sure, Peach.”

And there it was—that damn nickname that never failed to turn your insides into mush. It started innocently enough, the day your dad brought home a bag full of peaches and peach-flavored drinks. Logan had been there, chuckling at the sight, and ever since, he’d called you “Peach” with that easy, teasing tone. Now, every time he said it, you couldn’t help but melt a little, even if you tried to play it cool.

As you turned to lead him to your house through the backyard, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was the universe’s way of pushing you closer to the man who had taken up residence in your thoughts.

“It made a really loud noise and it was shaking really bad, the sound was a bit scary,” you admitted, your voice tinged with worry. “And also, can you check if my clothes are alright? Did it tear them off or something?”

Logan nodded thoughtfully, a low hum of consideration escaping him as he surveyed the situation. “Where did your dad put his tools?” he asked, his gaze already scanning the room.

“Oh, it’s right there,” you said, pointing towards the shelf against the wall. Determined to be helpful, you stood on your tippy toes, stretching to reach the toolbox. But before you could grasp it, Logan moved past you with ease, his hand already closing around the handle.

“Careful, Peach. It’s pretty heavy,” he murmured from behind you, his voice close enough to send a subtle shiver down your spine. His presence loomed over you as he reached up effortlessly, the scent of his cologne mingling with the warm summer air.

You stepped back, feeling a mix of flustered and grateful as he handled the heavy toolbox with ease, making you feel small and protected all at once.

“O-okay.” The stutter slipped out before you could stop it. Seriously? Get a grip, you scolded yourself internally. Trying to regain some composure, you quickly added, “I’m just—gonna… fix you something to drink.” You gestured awkwardly towards the kitchen, hoping to retreat before you embarrassed yourself further.

Logan nodded absentmindedly, his focus entirely on the washing machine that seemed to be on its last legs. He didn’t even glance your way, which was both a relief and a disappointment. You took a nervous step back, then another, finally turning and heading to the kitchen, hoping a moment away would help you steady your nerves.

Leaving his presence created an unfamiliar ache in your chest, a tug of reluctance you hadn’t anticipated. It was as if some part of you didn’t want to leave his side, didn’t want to be apart from the quiet strength that Logan exuded. The thought of retreating to the kitchen, of putting physical distance between you and him, felt wrong, almost unnatural.

You wanted to stay. You wanted to watch him work on the broken machine, to see those skilled hands in action, to listen to the steady, assured way he moved and spoke. But at the same time, you knew you couldn’t trust yourself around him. Not when your heart raced at every little interaction, not when just being near him made you feel so unsteady.

You didn’t have the confidence to be casual, to act like you weren’t hanging on his every word and gesture. And you certainly didn’t have the strength to face the feelings that threatened to overwhelm you every time you were close to him. So instead, you sought refuge in the kitchen, hoping the distance would help calm the storm inside you, even as it left you aching for more.

Twisting the faucet, you watched as the water streamed out, the steady flow almost hypnotic in its simplicity. The kitchen was quiet, the only sound the gentle rush of water hitting the sink. You leaned forward, letting the coolness soothe your heated skin, and splashed your face with the cold water, hoping it would bring some clarity to your muddled thoughts.

For a moment, the shock of the cold jolted you back to reality, away from the overwhelming thoughts of Logan that had been swirling in your mind. You closed your eyes, letting the droplets drip down your face, trying to steady your breathing and collect yourself. It was just a broken washing machine, just a neighbor doing a favor.

You swung open the fridge, your hand instinctively reaching for your favorite peach-flavored soda. The cool metal of the can felt reassuring against your palm as you pulled it from its place. With a satisfying hiss, you cracked it open, the sweet, fruity scent immediately filling the air.

Reaching for a tall glass, you filled it with ice, the cubes clinking softly as they settled. Then, you poured the bubbly soda over them, watching as the fizzy drink cascaded down, swirling and dancing around the ice. After inserting a straw into the glass, you carefully picked it up, the cool condensation forming on the outside of the glass. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, and made your way back to where Logan was.

"Here you go," you announced, placing the glass on the nearby table. Logan turned his attention from the washing machine to you, his eyes briefly darting to the drink you’d set down. A smile curved on his lips, the warmth in his gaze making your heart skip a beat. “Thanks, Peach.”

“Ehe…” You offered a nervous smile in return, your cheeks heating up at the casual endearment. Trying to steady your fluttering nerves, you grabbed the straw and shoved it into your mouth with a little more force than intended. It was your way of silencing the awkwardness bubbling inside you, a desperate attempt to keep any embarrassing sounds from escaping.

“So, your dad’s going on a date later today, huh?” Logan’s voice was light, but he noticed the nervousness you were trying to mask. His intention was to ease the tension with casual conversation.

“Y-yeah, he’s working now, but that’s what I’ve heard,” you replied, nervously fiddling with the straw. You decided to sit on the edge of the table where Logan’s drink was, adjusting it carefully to avoid spills.

Logan glanced at you, then back at the washing machine, his smirk widening. “You okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you responded, a bit defensively.

Logan chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. “From what I’ve heard, you’ve never been too thrilled about him dating. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

You hesitated for a moment, the weight of Logan’s question pressing on you. Taking a deep breath, you decided to let your guard down. “Well, it’s just… I’ve always felt like I have to compete for his attention. It’s silly, I know, but it’s hard when you’re used to being the center of someone’s world.”

Logan’s expression softened, and he gave you an understanding nod. The moment of connection hung between you as Logan turned his attention back to the washing machine. He worked with focused precision, his hands moving deftly as he made the final adjustments. The clinks and whirs of the machine were soon replaced by a steady, rhythmic hum.

“There we go,” Logan said with a satisfied grin, stepping back to admire his handiwork. The washing machine was back in action, its gentle whirl now a reassuring sound.

You let out a relieved sigh, watching the machine function smoothly. “Thank you so much, Mister Howlett. I really appreciate it.” you said, your gratitude sincere as you adjusted from your sitting position to stand up. You set down your now-empty glass on the table, the slight clink of the glass breaking the brief silence.

Hearing you address him as "Mister Howlett" sparked something within Logan—an unfamiliar, yet undeniable feeling. It was a sentiment he had been trying to avoid, one that stirred within him despite his best efforts to keep his distance. The formal address seemed to intensify the feelings he had been wrestling with, making them more pronounced.

You're not the only one who has a crush, he does too.

From the moment Logan had closed the trunk of his truck while moving into the neighborhood, you had been on his mind. He remembered the day vividly—watching you step out of your car in a beautiful white sundress that hugged your upper body and flowed gracefully. The way the dress accentuated your figure, combined with the ease of your movements, had captured his attention in a way he hadn’t anticipated. As you came knocking on his door with your dad beside you to welcome him into the neighborhood, those peach-flavored pie you brought had been lingering in his mind ever since. He wondered if you smell as good as that pie where he devoured in one full bite that night. And here you are, wearing the same white sundress that's gotten him obsessed with.

As Logan took a step forward, you instinctively stepped back, forgetting about the table behind you. Your hips brushed against it gently, causing a small jolt. Logan had intended to reach for the glass of your beverage, but his proximity brought him uncomfortably close.

With a casual yet deliberate movement, Logan took the glass from behind you, his body nearly brushing against yours. He lifted the glass in front of you, tilting his head slightly with a smirk. “Thanks, Peach,” he said, his voice low and warm.

Without breaking eye contact, he chugged down the drink, his gaze locked onto yours. The act was both confident and intimate, making the moment feel charged with unspoken tension. The shared space between you seemed to crackle with a newfound energy as you both stood there, the air thick with the lingering effects of the brief but intense connection.

You cleared your throat, feeling a flush of heat spread across your cheeks as you managed to wiggle your way out from the proximity of Logan. You made your way toward the washing machine, watching it work through the glass as your laundry tumbled inside.

“Tell me, Peach,” Logan’s voice came from behind, smooth and deliberate. “Is your taste as good as this peach soda?”

Your breath hitched, and your mind raced. Am I hearing this right? Is this a dream? You thought, trying to process his words. Despite the possibility of it being a dream, you couldn't bring yourself to face him. Instead, you leaned against the washing machine, the rhythmic vibrations grounding you.

“Um—W-what do you mean, s-sir?” you managed to stammer, your voice barely more than a whisper.

You could feel Logan’s presence closing in behind you, the air growing warmer and thicker as he approached. The vibrations from the washing machine seemed to pulse more intensely against your torso, amplifying the sensation of his proximity. Each step he took made your heartbeat quicken, your senses acutely aware of the space between you shrinking.

Logan’s shadow fell over you, and you could almost feel the heat radiating from his body. His breath, though not yet touching your skin, was close enough that you could sense its warmth. 

“You wanna know what ‘m thinking, Peach?” He mumbles behind your ear. You wished he didn’t hear your shuddered breath and the swallowed saliva down your throat from the way he makes you nervous.

“I don’t think so, Mister Howlett.” you managed to reply, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to maintain your composure.

“Naw, why? Afraid you might like it?” You could feel the smirk slowly forming in his face.

“I-”

“I’m thinking of bending you against this washing machine, lift up your very short sundress and get on my knees. Slowly taking my time smelling that scent… of arousal from your pussy, where I know, she’s dying to be touched, to be fingered, to be fucked, by me.” You gasp once you feel the bulge from his rough jeans, teasingly grinding against your ass earning a chuckle from him as he continues,

“Oh yes I know, Peach. I know how much you want to feel this cock inside you. Should’ve known better to close your blinds at night when your delicate… fingers desperately trying to reach that high, because I’m always watching you, Peach. Even though you’re such a pain in the ass with that, Peach flavored pie, and that fucking beautiful smile. I wanna turn those smiles into tears… Tears of pleasure from me, fucking this cunt.” You gasped loudly as Logan roughly thrust his bulge against your ass, hitting you against the washing machine.

“L-Logan,” you stammered, your voice trembling with a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

“Call me, Sir,” Logan’s tone was laced with full authority, each word deliberate and commanding. You choked back a swallow before you corrected yourself.

"Sir, I don't know what you're talking about." You stood on your ground.

"Yeah? Let me remind you how it feels then, this time, with me." Logan grunted in your ears before you felt a rush of cold air blowing against your damped panties resulted from Logan lifting your skirt up. You whimpered once you feel his fingers grazing against your soaking wet cunt, earning a mocking tut from Logan.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk... Your cunt says otherwise, Peach." He rubs you through the panties before ripping them off of you, the sound piercing through the room.

Logan crouched on his knees, proving his promise to you the one where he'd like to take his time smelling you from down your legs up to your thighs, dragging his warm tongue on your delicate skin upwards earning a moan from you. Logan hummed once he connected his lips to your glistening pussy lips, his tongue swirling and lapping your gushing juices.

You feel like god had just granted you your wishes into doing this sinful things. You finally can experience the feeling of his tongue against your throbbing cunt that keeps on gushing. Logan moaned, while he laps your juices up like a dog. "You taste just as I imagined, peach-flavored cunt." He murmured against your pussy.

A rosy hue crept across your cheeks hearing his statement. "Come on, Peach. Gimme more." Logan breathed out, his two hands that were gripping your thighs pushed and lifted you upward attempting you to bend over more over the top of the washing machine. Spreading your legs wide, you moaned out loud once you feel his tongue crazily lap your pussy like a dog in thirst.

"S-sir.." You squeaked, feeling yourself close.

"Hmm, yeah, give it to me, Peach." Logan grunted, burying his face even more.

"Ngh, I'm gonna-" Before you could finish that sentence, you froze as you heard your dad's voice calls out to you.

"Buttercup! I'm home, have you managed with the laundry yet?" He hollers from the other room. You gasped while Logan didn't even budge, he kept resuming his action.

"Y-yes, Dad! Everything's good now!" You holler back, holding yourself back from moaning.

"Do you need any help, darling?" You heard the sound of footstep, your eyes widened and hurriedly answer, "No- No, Dad! Everything's good, I'll be coming in a second." Logan smirked.

"Okay darling, I'm gonna get some rest." Your dad holler back as his footsteps fading away. You sighed in relief before you gasped when you feel Logan entering two fingers inside your cunt.

"What a naughty little girl, she needs to make herself cum before she gets back to being the dotting daughter huh?" You whimper to his words.

"Please, sir. Don't stop, it feels so good.."

"Yeah? Wait till you feel my cock." Logan vowed. He curled his fingers inside you, effortlessly flicking your g-spot before he stood back up on his feet, leaning against your back. He gently guide you to stand on your feet even though it's impossible for you as you're still in daze from his fingers still working their magic.

Logan whispered all kinds of filthy things in your head to get you to reach your high. "Is this just like what you imagined, peach?" — "Feels so good yeah?" — "Yes it does. Are you gonna cum for me?" — "Yeah come on, almost there, I know," — "Make a mess on my fingers, baby."

As you choked a loud moan, Logan's other hand went to silenced you while you came gushing down on his fingers. Your whole body shook while Logan holds you in place as you're coming down your high.

"There you go, good girl." You panted once you've gained your strength to stand on your own, you turned around and to find him smirking, a notable wet droplet covered some parts of his jeans as you now just learned, that you squirted on him a little.

He brought his fingers up to his mouth, his gaze never leaving yours as he tasted what's remained of you on his fingers.

"Hmm, taste just like a peach."

let me know if you want me to start the journey for Logan & Peach 😉

[starlost97]

— prettiest.

summary: With Charles questionable dating history, you didn't want to risk getting into a relationship with someone with that reputation. He was, however, determined to change your mind. And when you did, he couldn't be happier.

tags: fluff, Charles Leclerc is a simp, f!reader.

characters: Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz Jr. (mentioned).

warnings: swearing.

a/n: pathetic men begging for a chance? yes please. also love u charles but u would never see a glimpse of any of my female friends <3 anyways don't take it too seriously! enjoy :)

word count: 461.

requested?: yes! by a friend.

The world is a cruel place.

Charles, however, was the only one to blame in this situation.

He was also the only one that could fix it.

When you told him that despite your feelings for him, you wouldn’t date someone with such a questionable dating history, the driver was extremely sad. Everyone heard the jokes about how you can’t introduce your female friends to Charles, so why would you risk getting in a relationship with someone with that kind of reputation?

Well, the monegasque made sure to show you everything he had to offer.

Liking all your instagram photos, commenting on them — and making all their fans go wild in the process —, shamelessly staring at you — although that wasn’t really on purpose — when you appeared on screen. The world knew how obsessed he was with you.

He stopped going to parties. He only went to them when he knew you were there, and that was clear.

Charles didn't ask you out again for a long time, though. As if he had a plan to complete before allowing himself to bother you again.

But God, he was terrible at hiding how badly he wanted to take you out. To treat you just like you deserved. To turn all his adoration into worship.

He did last surprisingly long, however. It wasn't hard to exceed the expectations when they were that low. Even Carlos thought that he would last two days without telling you how much he loved you.

Well, he lasted four. And he was very proud of it.

“You're so beautiful.” He mumbled, staring adoringly at you. “Such a shame I didn't win you yet.”

“Yet?” You asked, smiling. “So full of confidence, aren't you?”

“How could I not be? I just made the prettiest girl in the world smile.” Charles said, stroking your cheek. “Come on, give me a chance. I'm starting to get desperate.”

“Sorry, starting?” You breathed out, starting to laugh.

“Alright, you got me. I'm desperate already. Hopelessly desperate.” Charles said, feeling butterflies only with your laugh.

You two stared at each other's eyes for some time, sharing adoration.

“You better not make me regret this, Leclerc.” You mumbled, getting up from the couch and walking away.

Charles was quick to grab your hand and pull you to himself. Your faces were now close to each other, and you could feel his quick heartbeat against your chest.

“I swear that you won't.” He said, closing the gap between you and kissing your lips, feeling as relief filled him. “Fuck, how can your kiss be so sweet?”

He stared at you in disbelief. He indeed just kissed perfection, didn't he?

“I might have to kiss you again and again to find out, pretty girl.”

[bunnys-kisses]

kink-o-ween - day 6

charles leclerc - pet play

cw: smut/pwp, collars & leashes, dom/sub, mean!charles, dirty talk, pet names (puppy), oral sex (charles receiving), deep throating, big cock!charles, consensual sex, pet play (duh)

charles remember the first time he put a collar on you. in fairness it wasn't a dog collar, but rather a cute choker that you asked him to help put on. when he got a good look at it around your throat, he felt the air out of his lungs for a moment.

"how does it look, honey?" you smiled, happy with how your outfit for the day turned out. you weren't doing anything too exciting, but you wanted to dress well. and when you took leo's leash in your hand to have your canine 'son' join you for the day, charles felt wires cross in his brain.

"you look... amazing." he smiled at you. the gears in his head were already turning.

it was after monza that the plan came to fold. charles had been meticulous with it all. while it wasn't the most complicated items to get, he wanted to make sure they were perfect.

if you looked good wearing a fabric choker and held a dog leash. then how would you look in a leather collar with a leash attached to it. if you were charles' good little puppy.

he didn't go behind your back about it though, it wasn't the kind of thing he could spring onto you. it was something that would have to be discussed and when he showed you the pretty red leather collar he wanted to get you. your face went hot and your eyes wide, but you simply told him, "yes. i'd love to." and charles had never bought anything so quick in his life.

he never knew he needed another puppy in his life.

in the private hotel room in monza, you happily stood in front of your lover while he sat on the couch in the small living room. beside him was a black box that the collar and leash arrived in before you left monaco. you were near naked in nothing but a mis-matched set of bra and panties. dark grey panties and your favourite white bra. honestly you could've worn a full clown costume and charles would still be itching to get his hands on you.

"one last time. do you want this?"

you smiled and got yourself down onto his thigh, you ran your fingers down the t-shirt he wore and looked into those beautiful eyes of his. you watched him softly lick his lips absent minded. it was cute. he wanted to make sure there were no issues between the two of you.

"yes, yes, yes." you clutched onto his shirt tighter and leaned in closer, "i want you. i want this. tonight." then went in for a kiss and charles' strong arms got around your waist. the kisses started soft, a promise that this was what you wanted. but, eventually, they grew hotter. and your hands dragged across him.

the touches left you yearning for more, your heart felt in your throat as your boyfriend rubbed up against you. when you broke the kiss, you could see the heat in his cheeks and you found him so painfully endearing. you placed a soft kiss on his cheek before you watched him take the box from the couch and open it for you.

inside was a collar, ferrari red. perfect for you. you tilted your head back and let the driver put the collar around you. his large, strong hands around your neck. he could easily choke you if he so desired. god, you were beautiful.

you looked gorgeous in red, it made his blood run hot. especially when he clipped the leash onto you. you mad a very pretty puppy. and all for him.

he cupped your face, feeling hot all over. like he was going to burn through his clothes as if he were an inferno. he said to you, "now, puppy. why don't you get between my legs and make yourself useful for me?"

you nodded dutifully, you slipped into the headspace so well. just as you slipped to your knees in front of him as he sat on the expensive couch in the hotel room. everything felt expensive, from the collar around your neck to the room you were in to the food you had for dinner. you were just another expensive piece in charles' repertoire, but he loved you more deeply than any material item.

you were his good little puppy.

he undid the fly of his jeans while he held the matching red leash around his hand. he eyed you with an insatiable want as he got his cock out of his bottoms. he stroked his cock with his free hand while he wound the leash in his other hand. he yanked your closer to him.

your nose almost touched his hard length. charles was known for packing down there. the whole grid and even their significant others knew about it. either seen it by accident (or on purpose) or have heard stories from those who have seen it. the prince was packing.

and he wanted every last centimeter between your lips and down your throat.

you rubbed your nose up against it a little as charles pulled you by the neck. he groaned in the open air of the bedroom as you slowly put your mouth around his length. you started gingerly against it, but the tug on your collar made you go deeper.

you took him perfectly, just as you had done a million times. you felt the thump in your chest as you licked at his cock lovingly. you managed to get it all the way to the back of your throat and it made him shudder.

"you look perfect." he said, "you look like someone who should be painting on the ceiling of a chapel." his breath was heavy as he felt you work at his cock. you were perfect. he yanked on your collar a little tighter, "does someone like being the puppy. do you like being on your knees for me?"

you knew it was a trap question. if you took your mouth off his cock, he'd simply shove you back down on it until you saw stars from the lack of oxygen to your brain. you gripped onto your knees as you continued to pleasure him. you felt like a dream, you made charles run hot as he gripped the leash tighter.

"good puppy, so good for me. you should wear it on the track. show everyone how obedient you are. you are, no? good for me." he chuckled as he continued to throat fuck you. he always went so deep in you and it made you gag sometimes.

it made your core grow hot as you continued to let him fuck your throat. your eyes closed as you felt his cock hit against the back of your throat as you got greedy and tried to take more and more. you shuddered as you felt it so hot all over.

"such a good puppy. so good for me. you know exactly how to take me." he gripped the leash tighter and forced you further onto his cock. your ears burned with blood as you continued to orally pleasure him. it all clouded your head as you yearned for more, more, more.

and charles was happy to provide. anything for his perfect for his puppy. his cock stayed in your mouth as you continued to make him feel good. you could feel yourself grow hotter from it all. you gagged onto his cock, but you kept taking him as best as you could. you could feel the heat in your body as you pleasured him.

he held onto the leash tightly. he made sure that his cock kissed the back of your throat as he kept your nose against his trimmed pubic hair. you felt on cloud nine as he pulled at you. his praise filled your brain as you moved against his cock.

even with the pulls at your leash, you felt amazing. and soon charles had gotten his cock back fully into your mouth. and with a few more hard thrusts he finished down your throat.

you whimpered and relaxed against his cock in your mouth. it slipped between your lips as you rested against his thigh. you looked up at him like a sweet little puppy and rubbed your thighs together. you looked like a dream and it turned the man on greatly as he carded his fingers through your hair.

you opened your mouth a little to show that you had swallowed it all with ease and were more than happy about it. which earned another head pat from your lover.

eventually he got you back into his lap and tenderly kissed at your face and neck while his hand grazed your hip. he said to you, "my puppy has done so good. you're amazing." you leaned into his touch and he continued to praise you.

that collar looked so pretty around your throat, you looked like a dream to him. his pretty puppy. <3

[improbable-outset]

📄 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐁𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.1k

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Secret mutual pinning, angst, emotional turmoil, mentions of insecurities, EVENTUAL SMUT, confessional sex, cunnilingus, unprotected p in v sex, long distance relationship

𝐀/𝐍: I didn’t expect this to be so long. Also hey @lazyjellyfish300 remember this blurb?? We’ve got the smut🥳

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Saying goodbye to you wasn’t part of Miguel’s plan. As you prepare to leave Alchemax for a prestigious new role, Miguel struggles with the realisation that he’s about to lose more than just a colleague.

“What are you doing?”

Miguel watched intently as you packed away your belongings in a box, clearing up your workstation. It wasn’t just a casual clean up— this looked like something more final.

You meticulously removed the photos from the wall, gathered your notes, and neatly stacked your research papers. The once vibrant workstation, full of personality, now looked eerily bare.

“Clearing my work station.” you said matter-of-factory. His chest felt heavy with uneasy tension, a sense of foreboding growing with each second.

“Yeah, I got that much, genius,” he shot back, stepping closer and stopping right next to your desk. “Why are you clearing your desk?”

You turned to face him wordlessly, his question only carrying more weight between the two of you like an unwelcome guest. His mouth went dry as he locked eyes with you.

Up close, you always managed to take his breath away, a quiet beauty that never failed to stir something deep within him. But today, there was a different kind of tension in the air, a sense of finality that he couldn’t grasp.

“Well?” he prodded, though he had a sinking feeling that whatever was going to unfold would change everything.

“Well uhm…I put in my two weeks notice today.”

He almost choked at your words. This was worse than he anticipated. He thought maybe you were moving to a different workstation, not leaving the company entirely.

“What?” his voice was barely a whisper. He could feel his pulse thundering in his ears. You were leaving— he was losing you.

“I’ve been offered a lead geneticist position at another company. But it’s in Raleigh, so…I’m gonna have to move.”

You had worked as a research scientist at Alchemax for several years, and because of the nature of your work, you and Miguel collaborated on a daily basis.

Discussing experimental results, debating research protocols— it all came so naturally. Over time, what began as a professional respect grew into something more personal. And now, that bond was about to be severed.

You were leaving for a bigger, fancier job in North Carolina. The thought twisted something deep inside him and he struggled to keep himself together.

“I can’t turn it down. I’ve busted my ass on the application and the whole interview process.”

“Congrats…” The word came out strangled, forced through clenched teeth. Trying to talk without being overwhelmed with emotions was like trying to hold back a flood with a paper dam.

“You don’t sound very enthusiastic.” you half-joked, but there was a note of concern in your voice.

You were right, his response wasn’t the best cover-up for his true feelings. The mere idea of you leaving filled him with dread, despair and most of all, jealousy.

“Of course I’m happy for you. I know you’ve been working hard— you deserve the opportunity.” He managed to hide most of his turmoil behind a cold wall of control. But deep down, the words felt hollow.

He knew he had no right to feel this way. You had every right to leave, to seize this incredible opportunity. This wasn’t something that came around often, and he didn’t want to be the one to hold you back.

You set the box down on the desk— the box that held all your belongings. “I’ll still be here for another two weeks.”

“Two weeks…” he echoed, the words sticking in his throat like a curse.

Two weeks. How was that enough time to prepare for losing you? What was he supposed to do after that? Just accept that you were gone? His heart couldn’t take that.

“I’ll visit Nueva York whenever I get the chance,” you said, trying to sound reassuring.

“You better. You’re not allowed to just drop off the face of the earth once you’re gone…” it was getting harder to keep his tone light.

“Of course…Nueva York and Alchemax aren't going to leave my mind anytime soon.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of us every now and then…and I’m certain this place won’t forget you…”

“I doubt it.” you scoffed, a bit of edge to your voice. “The higher ups will probably replace me before I even step foot in North Carolina.”

Miguel’s heart sank at the thought, though he knew there was some truth to it. The idea of someone else taking your place, of your work station filled with notes and projects by another rando, was too much to bear.

He could already picture the empty space where your personal touch used to shine through, replaced by some faceless new hire who was unaware how amazing you were

“Yeah, knowing them, they’ve probably already written up your job description, listing your position open for applications.” he sighed solemnly.

The company never had the best moral compass when it came to their employees, and would replace anyone that wasn’t serving their needs in a heartbeat.

“It’s okay, I’m sure I’ve left my mark here, even if I feel like I didn’t do much.”

Miguel almost let out a laugh in disbelief. You were always such a hard-worker, always a quick-thinker. You had single-handedly helped him out more times than he could count.

Another company had even recognised your talent and wanted you to work for them…yet you still doubted your capabilities.

“Are you serious? You’re irreplaceable. You’ve saved my ass more times than I could remember.” His voice was firm now, desperate to make you see things from his view.

“Mhmm.” You hummed. “Now, I’ll soon be the lead geneticist in another company, just like you.”

The enthusiasm in your tone was impossible to miss, and it reflected in your eyes. It should have made Miguel happy for you, and in a way, it did.

But the guilt still gnawed at him, guilt that he couldn’t match your excitement. Deep down, all he wanted was for you to stay, for purely selfish reasons.

“Yeah…just like me.” he repeated your words, the tiniest edge of bitterness creeping into his voice.

You didn’t seem to notice. “I guess all those late nights of research finally paid off. And all your teachings too.”

Miguel recalled all those nights together— just the two of you, the lab quiet save for the hum of machines and the scratch of pen on paper.

Mundane tasks became memorable simply because you were there. The memories sent a shiver up his spine, a bittersweet reminder of what he was about to lose.

It was a painful realisation that not everything lasts forever, especially the good things.

“Don’t count all this success as being attributed to just me, you did a lot of studying, too.” he chuckled lightly. “You really put in the hard work…you earned it.”

But even as he spoke, the words tasted bitter. Even if he was proud of you, it didn’t make the ache in his chest any less potent.

He glanced back at the box on your desk. No one could replace you— not in the lab, and certainly not in his life.

“But, I wouldn’t be here without you, so I have to give you some credit.” you smiled warmly. “If I ever win an award in this field and they make me stand on those podiums and talk to a huge audience, I’ll be sure to mention your name.”

Miguel felt his stomach flip at your words. He was at a loss for words. You’d mention his name if you won an award? He didn’t realise he had made such an impact on you— to be someone you viewed as admirable enough to acknowledge publicly.

The thought alone could possibly make him faint. To have his name mentioned in such a light by you…it was almost too much to handle.

He swallowed thickly. “Ah…you don’t have to go that far. I’m just some scientist,” he said coolly, though his pulse quickened. “Really, you’re gonna go places, make a name for yourself— you don’t need to credit me.”

“But I will. You've been a big part of my career here,” you insisted.

Your words hit Miguel square in the chest. You were adamant about recognising his role in your life. It was almost overwhelming, the way you considered him to be that much of an integral part of you.

He forced out a playful scoff, hoping to mask the surge of emotions rising in him.

“Yeah, I guess I helped you with some projects…but don’t go listing me as some co-author in your resume.”

You laughed softly. “Don’t worry, I know my limits.”

~

The next few days felt like treading on thin ice, where one wrong move could crack the fragile tension between the two of you.

Since the day you told him you were leaving, you’ve been unusually reserved, quieter than usual— a shift that didn’t go unnoticed by Miguel.

The sudden change in your energy tightened the coil of anxiety in his chest, and it was made worse by his inability to figure out why you were acting this way.

Whenever he would look your way, you always seemed distracted, lost in thought. Your responses were always brief and you would only speak when spoken to.

Miguel couldn’t help but feel concerned over you, but he was hesitant to ask you about it, not wanting to intrude or overstep any boundaries.

One evening, you both found yourselves working late again in his lab alone. The atmosphere was quiet— filled with the soft sounds of typing and the occasional shuffle of papers.

Miguel couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances at you. You were staring at your work, but he could tell your focus was elsewhere, lost in your own thoughts that were weighing you down.

As the evening wore on, the solitude of the lab and the waning hours seemed to offer the right moment. His concern outweighed his hesitation, and he turned his chair to face you.

“You’ve been quiet all day. Is everything okay?” He asked gently.

You looked up at him from your papers. The lightning highlighted the tiredness in your eyes, your expression weary and distant.

“Yeah, just thinking.” you mused.

“Is it about leaving? Are you upset?”

He could see the hesitation in your face, your eyes darting away from him and focused on the desk in front of you. “It’s not about leaving…well, maybe it is, in a way.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been thinking about how I’ve been in relationships…you know, what I wanted, what I didn’t get. I’m starting to wonder if maybe I’ve been asking for too much.”

Miguel blinked, taken back by your admission. He hadn’t expected that, but now that you brought it up, he was curious to know more.

“Too much? What could you possibly have asked for that was too much?”

“Just…little things. Being held, feeling safe, someone who actually listens after a long day,” you replied. He didn’t miss the tinge of bitterness in your voice. “I thought those were normal things to want, but it was like… like they were a burden to give.”

Hearing you feel so unappreciated made his chest tighten with frustration. How could someone make you think you were asking for too much? You deserved everything you asked for and more.

“That’s not too much to ask. It’s not a burden— it’s what you deserve.”

This wasn’t a passing thought; it was clear you’d been hurt before. The idea that someone had made you feel unworthy of love you craved infuriated him.

If you were with him, you wouldn’t even have to ask for that. He’d give you everything you wanted, and then some.

You let out a tired sigh, still not fully convinced by his words. “Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll ever find that. Or I’m chasing something unrealistic.”

No, don’t think that.

“You deserve someone who will give you all of that.”

You looked up at him. He could tell his words resonated with you when he saw something hopeful in your eyes. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” he said— he kept his tone low, hiding the fierce enthusiasm he felt. He could go on about everything you deserved, but he didn’t want to come off as desperate. “And if you have found it yet, it’s not because you’re asking too much.”

There was so much more he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to do— but he held himself back. He wanted to pull you into his embrace, just to share your warmth.

He wasn’t going to confess to you, that wasn’t the smartest move. Instead he pushed his feelings down for your sake, and pretended his love for you was just platonic.

“Are you in a relationship?” you asked suddenly.

Miguel had to hold himself back from giving a puzzled look. You’ve worked together for years now— wasn't it obvious that he was single? Maybe he’d been too vague about his love life, that was probably why you were asking.

He thought that by never mentioning a partner, it made him seem more available to you. But it seems you’ve overlooked that.

Not that he was inexperienced. He had his fair share of relationships— some short-lived, others too casual to be called serious.

They were a balance of good and bad, each leaving him with lessons to learn.

But he could confidently say that none of them had ever made him feel the way you did. He longed to express that with you, to tell you why you had his heart wrapped around your finger. But he knew that would only complicate things more.

“No…haven’t been in one in a while.”

And you’re the reason, he wanted to add.

“What about you? Found anyone special yet?” A small part of him dreaded to hear you answer, even if either response wouldn’t serve him any good.

“No.”

If you weren’t leaving the company, that answer would’ve brought him joy. But now, knowing that you were available it made the situation more poignant— a reminder that he had missed his chance.

Ironically, it would’ve given him more clarity if you said yes.

He had gotten used to concealing his true feelings since the day you told him that you’ve given your two weeks notice. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

So he offered you a reassuring smile instead, “Don’t worry. You’ll find someone who will cherish you the way you deserve.”

I’m right over here.

From the look of your face lifting up, he knew he managed to sound convincing and encouraging.

“I do have my eyes on someone though…” you added.

Your words echoed in his head and wrapped around his throat like a vice. A storm of emotions hit him all at once, leaving him struggling to navigate through the confusion.

On one hand, he was dying to know who you were referring to. On the other, he felt shattered that someone else managed to make their way into your heart and he wasn’t even aware of it.

He swallowed the lump in his throat before speaking. “Oh really? What are they like?”

Each question he asked felt like digging himself deeper into a pit he might never climb out of. Even while he forced himself to act neutral, it was hard to predict when the nonchalant facade would eventually crack.

You let out a sheepish laugh before answering. ”Well…he’s pretty tall,”

Miguel’s mind raced through every tall colleague he could think of, analysing every conversation you’d had with them, and trying to think back to any clues that would give away your feelings for them.

Miguel knew he was probably being overly cautious, but his instincts flared up. It wasn’t just his jealousy— though there was no denying that he was feeling a tinge of envy— but he didn’t want to see you get hurt by anyone.

Especially after what you revealed to him earlier. But he brought those thoughts to the side for a moment and continued to listen to you.

“He’s… a little grumpy but that’s what adds to his charm,” you added. There was something reflecting in your eyes, a sparkle that he couldn’t quite grasp, but he dismissed it.

Grumpy? You found that charming? He thought back to all those times you had called him grumpy.

His stomach fluttered as he felt a new sense of hope. But he didn’t let that sway his judgment and got optimistic too quickly.

“What else do you like about him?” Miguel asked. Deep down, Miguel felt a change of heart and he was desperate to know more, hoping that there was even the slightest chance that it might be him.

“He’s always there when I need him, even though he tries to hide it, he secretly has a heart of gold.”

You were killing him, little by little, with every answer you were giving him. It was all the qualities he was proud to have, yet he still felt doubtful.

He managed a small smile, trying to hide the longing in his heart. “Sounds like a good man. I’m sure he’s lucky to have your affection.”

“Yeah. I really hope he feels the same. Otherwise, all those coffees I gave him would be a waste,” you let out a sigh, clearly lost in thought about the man you admired.

You couldn’t have been more obvious. His heart fluttered as he recalled all those coffees you would give him in the mornings, especially during your joint projects.

Thank the stars that he was a master at keeping a tight lid on his feelings. There was no way he was going to let his excitement show— not yet, not until he was sure

“Those coffees?” he asked. “Why do you give them to him?”

“I was hoping I’d stand out to him and not just be a colleague he sits with.”

“Stand out? What other things are you willing to do?”

“Maybe offer to help with his paperwork— if he doesn’t mind.”

Miguel couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but his heart swelled with happiness with each word. You wanted to stand out to him. Offer to do his paperwork.

You didn’t have to do all of that to get his attention; he had eyes on you for a long time, but all these little things you did were an added bonus.

“Do you think I should buy him more coffee?” you asked, you gaze locked with him, searching for his approval. You were asking for his opinion too.

“Coffee’s a good ice breaker. Maybe you could add a little note too, I bet he’ll notice you after that,” he kept his tone casual, but Miguel couldn’t stop the grin tugging at his lips.

You looked so eager, willing to take whatever advice. After all, if you were talking about him, you’d take his advice even more seriously, right? It only made sense.

“Maybe you could ask him out on a casual date, nothing too big. Just to see how he reacts,” he teased, way too excited with how you’ll respond.

Will you ask him out now?

“You know…I think I’ll call him now,” you got up to leave the room.

Everything came crashing down on him in an instant. His heart shattered, taking all his hopes with it. So, you weren’t talking about him after all.

“Ah, alright…good luck with that,” he tried to maintain a neutral tone, but the strain in his voice betrayed him.

The weight of his unrequited love pressed heavily on his chest, it was almost palpable. Each step you took away felt like a knife twisting deeper into his heart.

How could he have been so foolish? Of course, it wouldn’t be him.

From the sound of your footsteps, you walked a few doors down, away from his earshot. You probably didn’t want him to overhear.

Sadness and disappointment surrounded him like a suffocating fog as he slumped back at his desk. He hadn’t heard from you in half an hour.

You were either working up the courage to call your love interest or caught in an extended conversation. But what he didn’t expect was to see your name pop up on his phone screen when his phone rang.

Although he didn’t want to hear how your conversation went, he still wanted to be supportive. He loved you too much to ruin your happiness.

He cleared his throat, bracing himself for whatever you had to say, expecting to have his heart shattered again, before picking up the phone. “Hello?”

“Oh, don’t say ‘hello’ like you haven’t saved my number,” you teased.

Miguel forced out a chuckle, trying to match your lightheartedness. “You got me there. Of course I have your number saved. So, how did it go?” he asked, his voice filled with forced anticipation, even as his heart pounded in his chest.

“Well, that guy I was talking about earlier…”

You left the sentence hanging, as if daring him to grasp the meaning. Miguel cleared his throat, keeping his composure and hoping his voice wouldn’t betray his pain. “Go on…what happened?”

There was a pause that went on for a few seconds, but it was enough to make his stomach twist as he waited for your response. Finally, you spoke.

“Well, did you know that it was you and were just acting clueless? Or did you not pick that up, yet?” you asked.

Miguel froze, the words processed in his mind. For a moment, he was stunned into silence, his grip tightening around the phone near his ear. His mind replayed the conversation you had just shared to see if he missed anything.

Then, a small smile slowly crept on his face, a mix of disbelief and dawning realisation. Now, hearing you confirm that it was true, he couldn’t hide his relief and the warmth that spread across his chest.

“I…uh…had…my suspicions,” he stuttered, his voice thick with emotion. “But hearing you say it now…it means more than you know.”

He paused for a moment, realising he might be sounding too eager, too vulnerable. “But what did you mean when you said ‘did you not pick that up’? Was it…was it not obvious that I had feelings for you too?”

“No, actually.”

A soft sigh of relief escaped Miguel’s lips. He’d tried so hard to keep his feelings for you hidden, fearing rejection to avoid an awkward situation that might follow, especially with you leaving the city.

But knowing now that he hadn’t been as obvious he feared— that you hadn’t noticed— was a strange comfort. Still, a part of him couldn’t help but wonder how things might have been different if he’d confessed first. Would he have had the courage? Probably not, even with your imminent departure.

“Well…now that we both know how we feel, what does that mean for us? Are you…happy that I have feelings for you too?”

“Duh.”

Miguel let out a chuckle at your blasé response. The tension in his chest from earlier was starting to ease, allowing him to bask in the moment.

But the reality of your limited time here was starting to set in, dulling his joy with a stab of regret.

“So…you’re still leaving, huh?” he couldn’t hide the solemn tone in his voice.

“Yeah, I am. But that doesn’t mean this has to end before it starts.”

His heart stuttered at that. “You really think we could make it work.”

“If we both want it, I don’t see why not.” The determination in your voice was palpable, even through the phone. It made him feel more desired than ever.

“I want it. More than anything. And right now, I really want to kiss you.”

“Hold on, let me come to you,” you hung up the phone and Miguel could hear your footsteps getting closer.

Once you finally arrived, you looked back up at him. Miguel could see the eagerness and the tinge of mischief in your eyes.

“Kiss me please.”

At that moment, he knew there was no use waiting any longer. His lips met yours in a soft, tender kiss. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this alive.

He couldn’t believe this was really happening, he had always dreamed of this moment but now that he was experiencing it in person, it felt too surreal to be real.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as his lips moved lovingly against yours. Breaking the kiss, he took a moment to study your face.

He wanted to kiss you again, to tell you sweet nothings that he had been holding back for so long. But he knew he had to compose himself and give you a moment to breathe.

“Lock the doors,” your voice echoed in his mind, sending his mind into a frenzy. He chuckled but still obliged, giving you both a newfound privacy.

Everything else felt like a blur and the next moment, he was unbuttoning your shirt and tossing it to the side. He didn’t waste any time doing the same to your pants.

His throat went dry when he noticed the wet patch on your undies, a sign that you were just as turned on as he was.

Just as infatuated.

It drove him crazy. As he leaned in, he felt your hands hike up under his shirt too. He took this as a sign to remove it, his toned body now in full view. His muscle’s glistened under the light.

He pressed your bare chest against his— the raw feeling of your skin against his was pure ecstasy. He lifted your body with ease and set you on a clear desk.

His body was still pressed against yours as he kissed over your neck and down your collar bone. He felt so lucky to have you in his arms like this, even better in his lab.

You were finally his…

He knelt down between your legs, his hands caressing over each thigh. His lips found your inner thigh, kissing over your skin, dangerously close to your core.

It was his ultimate goal to memorise every curve and crevice of your skin, what made you tick and all your favourite spots you liked to be touched. He wanted to savour this moment as much as he could.

His tongue slowly ran over your soaked cunt, finally getting a taste of you. Immediately, you gasped and your legs twitched in response.

You tasted incredible, or maybe that was just the heat of the moment. He continued to pleasure you with his mouth, his tongue tracing delicious, slow patterns around your sensitive bud.

He heard you gasp out his name which motivated to continue. His hand reached up to intertwine with yours, his touch grounding and tender as he continued to pleasure you with his mouth.

“Oh God…right there, Miguel—”

Your free hand reached into his scalp and gently tugged on his curls. Feeling your hips grinding against his tongue only drove him further, desperate to coax your orgasm.

That’s it…

Give yourself to me.

He knew the moment you reached your peak when he felt you tighten your grip on his hair and cry out his name. Seeing the way you threw your head back in the throes of your climax sent an overwhelming shiver through his body— a sensation he couldn’t describe.

Your body convulsed against his mouth as you squirted on his tongue— and he licked you clean eagerly. Finally, he pulled his mouth away, his tongue leaving your body with a final, tantalising flick.

He ran his fist across his mouth to rid your wetness before rising up to his feet. You were completely spent, your body limp and your breath came out ragged.

Your legs were still shaking from your fresh release. He couldn’t help but glide over your cheeks, his thumb tracing over your cheekbone.

He felt you lean into his touch as he savoured the feel of your skin beneath his fingers.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours.

You let out a shaky laugh, catching your breath. “Like this? All sweaty and musty? You must really love me then…”

Only you would throw a sarcastic comment after he ate you out. After a moment of stillness, you came down from your high. He spread your legs apart as he hovered over you on the desk.

The precum that leaked from his tip mixed with your wetness as he positioned his tip over your entrance. Slowly, he pushed himself in and was immediately overwhelmed by your cushiony grip over his tip.

Your fingers gripped onto his biceps, keeping yourself steady as he pushed further. Once he bottomed out, you lifted your head to see the light bulge on your belly.

A sense of pride washed over him, seeing your eyes feast on the lewd sight of him filling you up. Every inch of him was all yours.

He dragged himself out with your wetness coating his dick before pushing back in again. His body moved against yours in a perfect harmony, every motion was driven to heighten the pleasure between the two of you.

As the ecstasy reached a new height, Miguel’s body trembled slightly. He couldn’t resist letting out a soft moan followed by your name, his voice filled with all the love he had for you.

“Just like that…” you murmured against his lips.

Hearing your praise, Miguel’s lips curled into a smile, his expression filled with a mixture of confidence and pride.

Every stroke hit a new depth, sending a shiver through both of you.

All he could think about was being connected with you in every way possible. Physically. Emotionally. He angled himself so his pelvic bone could rub and stimulate your bundle of nerves.

“Miguel-!”

You let out a cry when he changed his pace, your nails digging into his back. He wanted you to feel him for weeks, remembering this night. Each sharp, precise thrust, hitting your sweet spot over and over and driving you over the edge.

He could feel his own peak crawling up with each passing second. His thrusts grew more desperate and frenzied, aiming to chase his high with your body wrapped around his own.

“Look at me…I want to see you,” he breathed.

The sight of you under him, taking everything he was giving you, sent him over the edge. His body tensed as he reached the pinnacle of his own climax.

With one last thrust deep into your heat, his cum pulsated into you in strong waves. He stayed balled deep until each were drained and waited for a moment before he pulled his hips back.

He felt withdrawal as he released himself from your grip, his deflated dick now hung between his legs.

His body slumped weakly against yours, the intensity of the moment leaving him content and blissfully exhausted. The world around him faded into the background. In that instant, everything felt perfect.

The pulse in his ears gradually quieted to a gentle hum, and his muscles started to relax as he settled against you.

As he kept his arms around you, holding you close, he felt at peace for the first time in what felt like ages. It all felt so right— like this was exactly where he was supposed to be.

He wanted to stay like this, savouring the closeness, but your soft gasp tugged at his concerns.

“Are you okay?” he asked, still feeling lightheaded from the afterglow. “What’s wrong?”

You quickly sat up on the desk, adjusting your clothes with a sense of urgency. “We need to put our clothes back on.”

The seriousness in your voice jolted back into reality. The sterile scent of the lab and the harsh fluorescent lights snapped into sharp focus, reminding him where you were. He carefully pulled himself away from you, his mind scrambling to catch up.

As he gathered his clothes from the floor and desk, the remnants of your passion, he couldn’t help but glance back at you— disheveled, flushed and utterly captivating.

Once he was fully dressed, he looked at you with amusement. “I think we can slip out before anyone asks what we’ve been up to,” he teased with a grin.

You buttoned your shirt, still appearing slightly frantic. “Did we make a mess?”

Miguel scanned the lab, his eyes sweeping over the desk and the floor. He didn’t spot any obvious signs of a mess, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one. The weight of what had just happened hung in the air.

Still, the room would be locked overnight— no one would see anything.

“Well…” he replied with a casual shrug. “I’m not too worried about any physical evidence. As long as they didn’t hear you cry out my name.”

You shot him a mildly annoyed look, pressing your lips together. “We should clock out before anyone suspects us.”

Just as you were about to move, Miguel gently pulled your arm. “Before we go…I need to know if this is something you truly want. Not just a temporary escape.” His voice was soft with vulnerability as he searched your eyes.

Your lips curled up into a reassuring smile. “Let’s go out to dinner and talk more there.”

Miguel’s eyes sparkled, the tension on his shoulders lifting. The idea of an intimate dinner, just the two of you, felt like the perfect addition to the connection you had just deepened.

He felt a sense of triumph as he allowed himself to experience this with you after the long, silent yearning.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’d love to have dinner,”

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. “Come on then, let’s get out of here.”

Miguel quickly switched off the lights and locked up before taking your hand in his. The two of you stepped out into the crisp night air, leaving the lab— and its memories— behind.

~

Miguel sat behind the wheel of his car, gripping on the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. You both agreed that he’d drive you to the airport, allowing you to spend these last moments together.

The car ride was silent, save for the occasional crackling of the chip packet in your hands. Miguel's eyes flickered towards you as you reached for another chip. You seemed calm and collected, but he knew better.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, to break the silence, but nothing came out. Words that normally flowed so easily from him were caught in his throat. What could he possibly say that would make it any easier?

“Do you want some?” you offered, holding out the bag.

He shook his head, lips twitching into a forced smile. “I’m not really hungry right now.”

His eyes were back on the road. The thought of food was the furthest thing from his mind right now. All he could think about was the impending goodbye as the streets of Nueva York blurred past.

“Are you okay?” your voice, a soft caress.

He let out a dry, humorless laugh. Of course he wasn’t okay. How could he be? But he nodded anyway, giving you a reassuring smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m fine…just a little nervous about dropping you off at the airport, that’s all.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either.

The truth was too raw, too painful, to voice. He didn’t want to admit how devastating he was and burden you with his feelings, not now.

“I’ve never done anything this big before.” you confessed. He could hear the uncertainty in your voice. “Moving to a completely different state…”

He felt a mix of sadness and pride in his chest. He was so proud of you for taking such a big step, but at the same time, he wished things were different and you could stay with him a little longer.

If only he had known sooner, maybe he would have had the courage to confess— to hold you close and never let you go. To have you to himself just a little longer.

“I know, it’s a big deal,” he tried to sound comforting. “But you’re smart, and capable, and I know you’re gonna do amazing.”

“Thanks, I needed that reassurance.” you sighed. “I’m a little nervous. What if I don’t fit in and I’m too…Nueva York-y for them.”

With one hand, Miguel reached over and gently squeezed your thigh, while the other gripped the steering wheel.

He tried to radiate some of his warmth and comfort, despite his emotions swirling like a vortex inside him.

“You’re going to fit in just fine. You’re the most adaptable person I know. And even if you are a bit ‘Nueva York-y’, as you put it, I think the people of North Carolina could use a bit of that.”

He glanced back at you, catching the flicker of unease in your eyes. It was refreshing to know that, despite your excitement, you were still feeling the same apprehension that had been eating him.

It gave a sense of connection— knowing this change was just as daunting to you as it was for him.

“You’re going to enlighten them with your 'Nuyorican’ charm, trust me,” he said lightly.

As the airport car park came into view, Miguel felt a shudder. The moment of truth was closing in with each passing second. The parking lot was busy, surrounded by the hum of engines and the distant echo of rolling suitcases.

Once he found a parking space, he switched off the engine and sighed— the sound heavy with the weight of unspoken words. Part of him wanted to stay rooted in his seat, to delay the inevitable just a little longer.

But he knew better. There was no escaping this. No loophole.

Even if it killed him.

He stepped out of the car and opened the trunk. The reality of the situation was hitting him as he helped you with your luggage. This was really happening.

Inside the terminal, the building was bustling with activity— people rushing to catch flights, families reunited, and others parting with goodbyes. The overhead announcements echoed across the vast space, creating a backdrop of noise.

But the chaos felt distant to Miguel, like it was happening in another world. His entire focus was on the small details of you— how tightly you gripped the suitcase handle, the way your eyes darted around and scanning signs to find where you were supposed to go.

Every little movement you made seemed to carve into his memory, as if he were trying to etch these final moments into his mind.

He tried to keep himself distracted by glancing at the departure board, watching to see when your flight’s status changed to ‘boarding’. Meanwhile, you checked in your flight and dropped off any checked baggage.

Once that was done, Miguel walked with you to the security gates. His heart grew heavier with each step. The moment of separation was looking closer and closer like a looming shadow.

“Alright…this is it…” you announced, finally reaching the security gates. Only ticketed passengers could pass, so this was where he would have to let you go.

There were a few guards already waving people through, urging the crowd to keep moving. The noise of shuffling feet, distant conversations, and the occasional beep of the scanners filled the air, but it all seemed muted to Miguel. He looked back at you one last time, his heart hammering in his chest.

He wanted to say something— anything— to keep you from leaving. Words like ‘don’t go’ or ‘I love you’ hovered on the top of his tongue, but he knew they were pointless. You were leaving, the ticket was booked, and nothing he could say would change that.

“I’m… I’m gonna miss you…” the word felt insignificant in the grand scheme of things. But they were the only truth he could manage.

He knew it was pathetic to confess that now, like it wasn’t obvious already, like it was going to change anything.

“I want to give you something…” you reached for your bag, and Miguel’s breath caught in his throat when he saw what you pulled out— a Polaroid picture.

He took the picture from you, a nostalgic smile spread across your face when he saw the image. It was a picture from your early days at Alchemax, back when he had still been pretending to be annoyed with you.

In the photo, he was giving his signature grumpy glare, arms crossed over his broad chest, while you stood behind him and grinning widely. You were not bothered at all by his gruff demeanor.

“I wanted to wait until the last minute to give it to you,” you rubbed your neck sheepishly.

Miguel chuckled at your words. It was so typical of you, waiting to give him something special at just the right moment.

“Of course you did.” he replied fondly, his fingers tracing the picture gently. He slipped the photo in his wallet, a place where he could keep it close. “It’s perfect…thank you,”

It was more than just a picture, it was a snapshot of a moment in time, a memory he’d hold onto long after you were gone.

You look back up at him, your expression earnest and vulnerable. “Bésame?”

“Con mucho gusto, mi amor,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he closed the distance between the two of you.

He cradled your face in his hands, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. His lips traced over the contour of yours, savouring the moment before fully capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

The kiss was everything— desperate, filled with unspoken words and unfulfilled yearnings. He wanted to hold onto this moment forever, to keep you with him like this just a little longer, but he knew he had to let you go.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, though he rested his forehead on yours, his breath becoming in ragged gasps.

“Be safe, okay?” he murmured.

“I’ll call you when I land...if I get any signal,” you replied with a shaky smile.

You start to queue up for the security gates, your luggage trailing behind you. Miguel’s heart twists as the line slowly gets shorter, the distance between you growing with each passing second.

He couldn’t do anything but watch with his hands shoved deep in his jeans pockets. His eyes were fixated on your figure, memorising every last detail of you.

He knew that once you went through those gates, he would never be able to kiss you, or hold you, or touch you.

Just as you disappeared out of sight, behind the security gates, the airport intercom called out your flight number and announced the final boarding call.

He watched the departure board change to ‘In Air’ which was the final push to turn away. He walked back to his car, the Polaroid photo in his wallet burned into his psyche.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @nina-from-317 @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @cupcakeinat0r @club-danger-zone @kavimoo

@fullmetalgizzy @frogs-and-oscar-brainrot @embearlyhere @soymiguelsesposa @twwcs

@safixiovi @tatatida @ghostsdoll @hyjionie @tomalymme

@saintdiior

Look, I know the smut seems a little rushed here but I didn’t want to focus on the spice in this story but rather the bittersweet, emotionally rollercoaster.

Ayrus xoxo

[808airsoftbros]

How Le Sserafim Gets You Off From Your Games/Matches

Author: Since the last one did pretty decently enough here is the second part of the series but for disclaimer reasons, this will only contain 18+ members only. If you want to see more of my stuff check out the Masterlist

Kim Chaewon

Miss Chaewon here isn't the type that doesn't like when your attention is focused elsewhere especially if it's not on her

But what she wants she will do anything to get it no matter what kind of tricks she has to pull but Chaewon knows every button to push to make you head over heels for her

"Hm... Baby, why don't you get off your pc and play with me instead~?" She whispered suggestively.

Yet to no surprise, you still kept your focus which made me Chaewon chuckle in amusement knowing that wouldn't last for long for the things she had planned

Suddenly, Chaewon decided to strip naked and laid on your desk, displaying her body in full glory and began playing with herself in front of you and moaning loudly as possible and sometimes in your ear

"Mmm~! Come on, deary, don't you want to stick that big fat cock of yours inside of me~? Because I sure do~," She whispered and you gave in turning off your pc before getting all rough and passionate in bed

Miyawaki Sakura

Though Sakura was a gamer herself and often times plays Minecraft and League of Legends matches with you, there are occasions when Sakura just wants your full attention

Not only does she want your attention but most importantly tend to her needy desires for you

"Come on, baby~! It's been weeks since we've last done it and I want you to fuck me~!" She begged to give you an innocent look despite her request being the exact opposite

Of course, you said only one more match and then you two could do it but Sakura was out of patience with you

However, she does have her ideas especially since she sometimes caught you looking at anime female characters you sometimes play

Sakura Would go into her closet that was filled with anime cosplay outfits and some were quite provocative which is exactly what she needed. When she came wearing a maid outfit that revealed much of her delicious curves you cannot help but stare

"What's the matter sweety~? Cat got your tongue~?" Sakura purred with delight knowing the effect she had on you

Huh Yunjin

Oh our dear Jennifer Huh is a special one... Yunjin is known for her goofy and funny personality in the Kpop industry but also for her beautiful tall and slim body

Yunjin knows this well and you lost count of how many times she used this to catch your attention and this made nights full of moans of your name from her mouth

One night, Yunjin was out later than usual, you got bored and decided to hop on a few missions on Helldivers to pass the time

But what you didn't notice is that Yunjin came home and when she walked into your room, she sighed almost annoyed as she made a rule about no pc time when she was around

"Baby~. You know the rules, get off the game~," Yunjin spoke in a stern yet motherly tone but you didn't hear her from your headphones making her playfully roll her eyes

"Alright, you wanna play hardball? Then let's play~," Yunjin declared before getting under your desk and when you felt something tugging on your shorts you saw Yunjin pulling your shorts and underwear revealing your cock

With Yunjin now sucking you off it was harder to concentrate as you tried to suppress your moans from Yunjin's skilled mouth, you gave in to your frustrations and desires

"Looks like I got your full attention~. Now come with mommy to bed so we can some real fun~," Yunjin smirked victoriously.

Nakamura Kazuha

The former ballerina princess is quite the clingy and needy one, despite her elegant and beautiful demeanor she has a naughty side that only you know

When Kazuha arrived home from dance practice, all she wanted to do was to have your cock inside of her but she was annoyed when she found you playing on your PlayStation 5

Determined, to get you off, Kazuha went up to you and straddled onto your lap.

"Hey, baby... You tired?" You asked while you played Spiderman and she hummed.

"Not yet... I still want you~," She whispered into your ears sending shivers down your spine and Kazuha knew well she had a massive effect on you

Before long Kazuha tanks off her tank top and unclipped your draw letting it fall on the floor revealing her perky boobs which made it even harder for you to concentrate

"Come on, baby~. Don't you want to suck on these babies~? I know you do, so why don't you get off the game and play with me instead~?" She whispered into your ear tempting you to give in to your desires

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 13 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Confronting Kevin in California should have made Anna feel like she had the advantage, but nothing with him ever went to plan. As soon as Bob encounters Anna's husband for himself, he knows something isn't quite right.

Warnings: Angst, Kevin is a dick, bruises on Anna's arm, adult language, 18+

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

"Did you delete her number yet?" Nat asked as she lifted her helmet and Bob's off of the shelf in the hangar where their gear was stored when they weren't flying. "Or are you trying to prolong the pain like some sort of sadistic artist?"

Bob flinched at her words, because she hit a little too close to home for his liking. It wasn't that he wanted to be missing Anna like this, but he had been writing a lot of poetry about her. He couldn't help himself. He hadn't posted any since the one about his bookshelf, but that didn't mean his computer wasn't full of it.

"I'm not trying to prolong the pain," he told his friend with a grimace. "I don't know what I'm doing."

She shoved his helmet down onto his head and told him, "I know she threw you for a loop, but either delete her number or give her another chance. Don't sit in this annoying gray area. I don't know why you guys insist on doing that shit. I tried for ten years to get Bradley to contact his wife, but he just flounced around in the gray area like an idiot instead. Don't be like him," she said firmly, pointing to where Bradley was looking down at his phone with a dopey smile on his face. He was almost definitely texting his wife if he looked like that.

Bob sighed. "Nat, I don't know if she wants me to give her another chance right now. She said she's going to deal with her husband, but I think she needs time."

Nat rolled her eyes and held her hands up in the air. "Why don't you," she said, waving her fingers like she was performing magic, "talk to her again?!"

Bob pulled his helmet off again, saying, "What would you suggest I say? She already knows I've had feelings for her for months. There's just a point where it becomes too much."

"You could tell her that even though it blew up in your face, she's the best lay of your life." Bob immediately wished he hadn't told her that. "Or that you'll still be around after she figures her shit out. I think the ball is in your court."

He was still blushing furiously and nowhere closer to knowing what he should be doing when they all got called to the tower, but he did smile when Nat snapped at Bradley to put his phone away. She probably needed to get laid more than Bob ever did.

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

The bus ride from San Diego to Carlsbad shouldn't take an hour and a half when it would take barely forty minutes to drive yourself. Not for the first time, Anna wished she had a car in California. That way she could get to Kevin faster. Kevin. Fucking Kevin. The man who was the reason she didn't have a car in California.

She needed to stay calm. If she could catch him while his guard was down and convince him to just sign the paperwork, she would be golden. But every time she thought about seeing his face, she started to panic. She had seen nothing except kind faces for months. The faces of her friends. The faces of her students. Bob's beautiful blue eyes always seemed to look at her with a smile behind them. Even now, after she met up with him for a little bit at the bookstore, his eyes were kind.

Her hands shook slightly. She needed to deal with Kevin so she could move on and never have to see him again. Then she could work on getting back to the people who didn't look at her like she was worthless. When the bus finally fought its way through traffic and made a stop near the hotel where the conference was being held, she sprinted down the steps and up the block. She had already memorized the map and knew she needed to find the grand ballroom, but when she got to the upscale hotel, she was sweaty and panting for breath, and even the doorman was looking at her skeptically as she slipped inside.

The lobby was crowded enough that she padded her way across the marble floor in her beat up sneakers, blending in well enough with the others. Signs for the National Neurological Physicians Association conference were plastered all over the place, and she had to keep from rolling her eyes. It was laughable that physicians from all over would come here to listen to Kevin blathering on and on about his specialty area of study. But when Anna paused to really think about it for a second, something close to cold fury started flowing through her veins, because she was the one who paid for that for him. She was the reason he was a speaker at this massive conference in the first place.

With renewed purpose, she picked up her pace and turned right past the elevator bank, following the signs that led her toward several people in monogrammed lab coats. The ballroom was in sight, and she was ready to push through the double doors when one of the men in a lab coat popped up in front of her. 

"Not so fast," he said, a forced smile plastered on his face. "You're late for the introductory speakers, and you haven't signed in yet."

"Oh," she said, scrambling to push her bag up on her shoulder. "Right." When he gestured toward a long table with some unclaimed name badges and information booklets, Anna's heart skipped a beat. She took a step closer, praying nobody would ask her for any sort of identification, and reached for the badge that said Dr. Angela Harmon, MD. She clipped it onto her shirt, realizing she was terribly under dressed to even try to pull this off, and then she picked up the booklet with Dr. Harmon's name on it as well. "Is this all I need?" she asked, tapping the name badge and praying this random woman didn't decide to show up right now.

With a nod, the man said, "Please try to find a seat at the back to keep disruption to a minimum. I believe Dr. Webber is still speaking, and you know how excited we all are to have him here."

Anna had to bite down on the inside of her cheek and take a deep breath before she could say, "So excited," through clenched teeth. "I wouldn't dream of being disruptive."

"Of course not," he agreed, finally smiling kindly. "Enjoy the conference, Dr. Harmon."

Carefully and as quietly as she could, Anna entered the ballroom to find hundreds of people sitting in rows of chairs listening to her worthless husband giving a presentation in a three piece suit. 

"But we already know recent attempts to update computational axial tomography are largely like someone trying to reinvent the wheel," he said with a charming smile, and the room hummed with amused laughter like everyone was in on some sort of inside joke. Anna's skin crawled as she carefully took a seat in the last row, praying Kevin hadn't seen her yet. If he was this well known and well regarded in his field, then he didn't need money from her manuscript. He was simply holding onto it to be an ass.

She had to listen to him for twenty more minutes after that. Nineteen too long in her book. His voice sounded light and carefree, and his smile was handsome and unassuming. Frankly he was putting on some sort of persona, and it was nothing like she was used to. But it wasn't until he started on a short presentation that Anna's attention was piqued, because it was then that she saw he was using the laptop that they used to share. The one she used to type up her book.

A soft sound escaped her as she stared longingly at it, wondering if her work was still there. He slammed the computer shut, and she was jolted back to reality as he said, "Once again, thank you all for being here for the next week. We have so many groundbreaking topics to learn about and some of the most renowned research physicians in the country sharing their expertise with us. Let's take a quick break and then dive right into new MRI techniques with Dr. Nunez."

There was an immediate round of applause, and Anna jumped to her feet, heart pounding so hard, it was making her nauseous. When she headed toward his cocky, smiling face, she realized Kevin was already surrounded by colleagues, shaking hands and laughing. And that was when he spotted her. They'd been on the phone just a handful of hours ago, but he looked shocked to see her here. She watched his sharp, gray eyes narrow in on her with a spiteful glare before he smoothed out his features into something neutral. And that's when she came to terms with the fact that he would know she was living in southern California. That's when she knew she needed to make this work.

"Anna," he said with absolutely no emotion as she cut in front of the person he was talking to. "What are you doing here?"

She swallowed hard, imagining Bob and her two friends were with her, urging her on, cheering for her to fix this. "I have something for you to sign," she told him as her voice shook. She took a step closer as she reached into her bag to pull out the folded paperwork and a pen.

"No," he practically growled under his breath, trying not to draw more attention to himself. "Why are you doing this here? I'm a little busy."

Anna wanted to laugh in his face. She was a little busy trying to get on with her stupid life, but that didn't stop him from disrupting her mission every day. "Just sign the divorce papers, Kevin," she demanded, but she sounded like a child even to her own ears. His eyes flashed with so much anger, she could barely breathe with him this close to her. He was built similarly to Bob, which was a frightening realization. Where Kevin always used his size as an intimidation tactic, Bob had never done that to her. She always felt safe around him. Right now she felt very unsafe around Kevin, even though they were literally in the midst of a crowd of people.

"Just sign it," she whispered, trying to push the document into his solid chest. It was unbelievable that at one time, she was in love with this man. It was crazy to think about how he used to tell her he loved her too. "Please, Kevin." He looked so angry right now, and Anna felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up in fear as the people behind her started whispering.

"Who is this woman? That's not Alyssa."

"Did she say divorce? Isn't he married to that other physician? The pregnant one?"

So Alyssa was pregnant. And nobody here even knew about Anna. It was like she didn't even exist. Like she had never existed to her husband. A mortifying little sob bubbled free from the back of her throat, and she looked up at Kevin as he said, "Let's take a little walk."

His hand closed around her bicep, and Anna wanted to yelp as he pulled her up onto the stage, past the podium, where nobody else would be able to hear them. The laptop was right there, and she considered trying to take it, but she'd never make it out of the hotel let alone back to her apartment with it. Instead she tripped along next to him until he had her where he wanted her.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" he snarled. "Were you always this stupid? Or have you gotten worse?"

"Come on, Kevin," she pleaded, and he finally released her throbbing arm. "You don't need it. Look how well you're doing. You don't need my book."

He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair as if he was trying his hardest to keep his composure. "You think you can come here and embarrass me in front of my peers? Mentioning our marriage like we still have one when you moved away?"

Her fist clenched at her side. "Our marriage didn't fall apart because I left," she hissed under her breath. "It fell apart because of you. And now your mistress is pregnant?"

Kevin sighed. "I understand that you're jealous, Anna. I really do, but I'm not signing anything for you."

She clenched and unclenched her fist. The desire to punch him in the face was so strong as her other hand shook with the papers grasped between her fingers. She was far from jealous, and he knew it. He wanted to get a rise out of her because he felt cornered. "I don't care what these people think about me," she whispered. "But you do. So just sign it."

He stood before her, tall and broad with his jaw set as he said, "There is no way in hell you have what it takes to intimidate me. Now get the fuck out of here, or I will have security remove you from the hotel for disrupting the conference."

She knew she didn't have any other choice. If she somehow got herself in trouble for being here, she didn't have the money to spend on more legal help. So she took a step backwards just as Kevin's hand flew up to pull the name badge from her shirt. "And you're obviously not Dr. Harmon. She has enormous tits, and I fucked her last year in Toronto. Now go." 

Twenty minutes later, Anna was back on the bus heading south toward San Diego, empty handed with tears in her eyes and a bruised arm.

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

"What happened to your pretty girlfriend?"

Bob looked up from his phone as he walked up his porch steps after a long run on Monday evening. He hadn't been sleeping well, debating reaching out to Anna again, and he was hoping the run would tire him out. But he should have known Suzanne would have her door open and her game shows blaring at this hour.

"Hi, Suzanne," he said, wishing he could just duck inside his own place without having to chat with her.

"I haven't seen her again in weeks."

Bob sighed and tipped his head back. "She's not my girlfriend. She never was."

"Not with that attitude," his neighbor mused under her breath.

"You have a good night, Suzanne." Bob swatted Sylvester away from his front door before heading inside and up to take a shower. He thought about Anna as he ran his soapy hands along his body. He tried not to, but she was on his mind a lot. When he climbed into bed, his skin felt too hot. He opened the window to let the late fall air in, but it did nothing to help him. He wanted to see her, even just to make sure she was still okay.

He reached for his phone, typed up a text, and then deleted it. "You sound so desperate for her," he groaned, trying again. But again he had to delete it rather than send it. Finally he settled on something simple.

Hey, I've been craving some peanuts from Chippy's. Feel like joining me for a bit tomorrow?

It sounded neutral enough. If she said no, he'd ask Jessica to make sure the ladies were checking in on her. If she said yes, then Bob could see with his own eyes if she was okay. He would also get to see with his own eyes how fucking beautiful she was, but that didn't matter as much, honestly.

He was just slipping into a daydream where Anna's husband divorced her tomorrow and never left the state of New Jersey again when his phone vibrated on his nightstand.

Anna Webber: Peanuts from Chippy's sound heavenly right now. I would love to join you for a little bit.

He exhaled as the cooler air finally met his skin, and he pulled his sheet over himself after he promised to meet her there.

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

Before she went down to the quad with her lunch bag, Anna adjusted her cardigan. She knew her sleeve was covering his bruised arm, but she felt naked all morning during her lectures anyway. She felt like her skin and the inside of her brain were on full display for everyone. She wondered when Alyssa was due. She wondered if Kevin slept with Dr. Harmon when he was in Toronto last June or last October. Perhaps both. She wondered how someone who was so full of shit could keep coming out ahead of her.

"Anna!"

At least her friends were still faithfully waiting for her at the weird looking tree. And at least Bob was making it a point to let her know she was welcome around him. She could hardly wait to go to Chippy's later. 

"Hi," she said, plopping down in between them on the bench, adjusting her sleeve one more time before pulling her sad sandwich out. "What's new in the world of science and mathematics?"

Almost immediately, she had a container of veggies and a homemade ranch dip in her hand while her friend told her about a fascinating math conference she wanted to go to next year in Philadelphia. Apparently the dates were just announced, and you had to be someone important to even get an invitation. Anna loved that her friend already knew she was going to go, but it made her dwell on Kevin and his conference which was still going on in Carlsbad.

"Oh!" Jessica said as she poured some potato chips on her already delectable looking sandwich. "Jake and I are going to Cabo next month! A much needed break after the term ends."

"I love that for you," Anna told her, feeling jealous in spite of herself. And that made her feel even sadder. She almost winced when her other friend wrapped her arm around her, inadvertently mashing her hand against the bruise from Kevin.

"Don't worry. Bradley and I aren't going anywhere for term break. I wanted to, but his favorite Grateful Dead cover band is playing right here in San Diego on New Year's Eve, and he absolutely can't miss it. That would be a crime." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm which made Anna laugh. "How's your week going?" she asked cautiously. 

Anna wanted to tell them all about going to the conference at the hotel. She wanted to tell them that she saw Kevin and left with less than nothing. She would tell them, but not right now when she only had a little bit of time before she had to give her Classics lecture. She didn't want to run the risk of arriving to the lecture hall with tears in her eyes. 

Instead she softly said, "I'm going to see Bob later. Just a quick visit to Chippy's for some peanuts."

Jessica was instantly vibrating with excitement. "That's great. I think you and he will have fun!"

"We will," Anna confirmed. Even though it was a little awkward, she'd had a nice time with him at the bookstore. She always did. Because he was kind and sweet and literally the opposite of everything that Kevin turned out to be. She just wished there was some reality in which she could feel his arms around her again. "We will."

The end of lunch came way more quickly than she wanted it to, and Anna found herself mentally regrouping to try to find another way to get her manuscript. She taught her last two lectures and graded a handful of essays, counting down the minutes until she could see Bob again. His blue eyes would be soft when he looked at her, and his words would be enough to make her feel better even if they only engaged in some small talk.

When she only had thirty minutes until she was supposed to meet him, she printed off sixty copies of the quiz she would need for tomorrow afternoon. Anna locked her office door behind her as she headed down to the teacher's lounge to retrieve the quizzes before someone moved them, never to be seen again. She learned her lesson after last time that if you didn't grab them right away, there was a good chance they'd end up in the trash. Then she would drop them off before going to meet Bob.

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

Since he was running early, Bob decided to just head to Anna's office and meet her there. He'd been so antsy to see her, he showered and dressed in his favorite jeans and tee shirt in record time after work. Even though he'd only been in this one academic building one time, he remembered exactly how to get to her office. Having an outstanding sense of direction just came with the territory for a WSO, but her hallway also smelled like fresh baked bread.

When he rounded the last corner, Bob skidded to a halt and ducked back behind the wall. There was a man about his age who was vigorously jiggling Anna's doorknob. "Anna. Open the door so we can talk," he said calmly even as he pushed his fingers through his hair in exasperation. Bob didn't know who he was, but he had a bad feeling, and that's when the man turned his head and spotted him.

Bob squared his shoulders to try to match the other man's height as he rounded the corner completely and asked, "Are you looking for Dr. Webber?"

The other man appraised him with cool gray eyes and smirked. "Let me guess. You're sleeping with her?"

Bob's heart lurched into his stomach as the color drained from his face. He knew this had to be Kevin. He knew it without confirmation, and now he didn't know how the hell he was supposed to respond. So he simply kept his mouth shut while the other man took a step in his direction.

"She really likes to act so high and mighty. Very hypocritical in this scenario," he muttered, making Bob's skin crawl. "I can't believe her."

Bob swallowed hard, trying to figure out why Anna agreed to go to Chippy's today if she knew Kevin was in San Diego. All he knew about was what she'd told him when she came to his house. Bob didn't think he should divulge too much to this man, so he simply asked, "What do you want from her?"

The answer was swift and felt like a punch to the gut. "She's my wife, and she's coming back to New Jersey with me where I can keep track of her. She doesn't belong here, and she needs to stop lying. So why don't you tell me what you want from her?"

His nostrils flared as his fingers curled into fists, and Bob had to take a few deep breaths before he said, "I just wanted to make sure she's okay."

Kevin crossed his arms over his chest and said, "She's nothing you need to be concerned about."

The uneasy feeling that started to fill him up spread through his whole body now, and Bob took a step backwards. Maybe Anna was already at Chippy's. Maybe she didn't know Kevin was here at all. He backtracked his way through the building as he started to panic. What if she did know he was here? What if she had played Bob and everyone else the whole time?

He would check for her at Chippy's. He made it all the way across the quad to a weird looking tree that was growing sideways when he froze again. It just didn't make sense. Anna said she hated Kevin and never wanted to go back to New Jersey, and Bob had no reason to believe someone else over her.

He started calling her phone, torn as to which direction he should head. Back up to her office? To Chippy's where they were supposed to meet up? She didn't answer. He started toward the bar, covering the few blocks at a brisk pace as he tried to call her again. He walked back and forth across that sticky floor through the clusters of students enjoying an after class drink before he was satisfied that she wasn't there. 

"Damn it, Anna. Answer your phone," he muttered as he ran back to her building and up to her office. The building was virtually empty at this hour, and now there was nobody in the hallway at all. He knocked on her door and called out her name, but he was met with silence. The kind of silence that just didn't feel right.

He felt like he was going crazy, running in circles both metaphorically and physically for this woman, and when he finally reached his truck, he had to wipe the sweat from his brow. Her apartment wasn't far from campus, and he didn't know where else to even look at this point. When he got there, he parked and tried to call her one more time before someone else who lived in the building simply held the door open for him.

"Thanks," he muttered, heading for the stairwell and taking the steps two at a time until he reached Anna's floor. And then her apartment. What he heard coming from inside made him want to rip the door from the hinges.

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

I hate Kevin. Hate. Him. I'm sorry, but he's still going to get worse. Just remember that Bob is a sweet cinnamon bun. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 14

@thedroneranger

@theamuz

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[bluur00]

𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐋 - 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎

hurt/comfort. insecurity. unhealthy diet. mentions of body image. fem!reader. model reader.

When you entered the fashion world as a model you knew you had to keep your body, face, hair, skin at a certain standard. At first it was going well, your everyday diet wasn’t effecting for you to starve.

That was until you started dating the famous baseball player, Kenji Sato. He always pamper you with foods and snacks that he knows you love, he made you forget that you worry about your appearance every single day.

Eventually, the public caught up to your change in appearance, they gave critical comments and comments that had control on what you would have to do to please them.

“why is her body get bigger? her recent magazine cover is trash!”

“what has she been eating to get those kind of pimples?!”

“she honestly let herself go after going viral just for that fashion show.”

and so on.

Everyday, every night, you would get at least thousands more commenting your appearance, which made you decide to start going back to your old diet and start to reject the food Kenji offers. 

You think doing this plan of yours would be easy considering how busy he has been between baseball and ultraman business.

Even though that was your plan, it didn’t get past Kenji, no matter how busy he would be he is still observant for his own girlfriend. He knew how you started to just have granola bars for breakfast, 

“Good morning, baby, I made pancakes for you,” Kenji greeted, you smiled  in acknowledging, “thanks, Kenji but I’m good with some granola bars for now.”

for dinner you would say that you will eat but still just goes to bed before even getting a plate.

“Y/n, you’re not gonna eat?” Kenji asked, noticing how your not getting a plate to eat, but instead your still glued to your phone, scrolling through the comments, “Y/n? Baby?” Kenji called once again, you lifted your head to look at him, “Oh, yeah in a bit, you can finish first it’s okay,” you smiled. He then saw you went upstairs a few minutes after you said you would eat.

He saw how you rejected his snacks, even your favorite ones. They were some that you accepted but he knew you just hid them somewhere he wouldn’t find.

Kenji just got back from an interview and you were waiting for him in the living room, reading magazines that are full of other models. You then heard the front door closed, “Baby, I’m home!” Kenji called out, you immediately closed the magazine and shifted your focus to the television, Kenji then walked in placing a box of cookies from your favorite bakery, “got this for you!” you smelled the cookies, and the temptation to eat it was very high, but instead you smiled and thanked him.

Of course, the next few days Kenji found the same cookies he bought you that night.

He noticed how you measured your weight more often, usually you would only do that when there’s a photoshoot or fashion show event. 

“Y/n, what do you wanna watch?? If you don’t come here I’ll choose the movie for tonight!” Kenji shouted, when he didn’t get a response back he went upstairs and checked the bedroom, there you were standing on a weight measurement. 

One day, Kenji decided to confront you about it. It was dinner time and as usual, you ran away upstairs without eating. Kenji took a plate and filled it with food according to your own portion, before going up to the bedroom to talk to you about what he recently has been noticing.

Kenji knocked and opened the door, you were laying on the bed scrolling through comments of your recent event, Kenji noticed you tear-stained cheeks, he then knew exactly what has been bothering you.

“Hey baby, brought you your dinner since you escaped from the table,” Kenji chuckled, making his way to sit at the edge of the bed beside ur figure. You lifted your head, noticing the food he held and shook your head, “no thanks, not hungry,” before laying down your head again.

“Y/n, I notice you haven’t been eating properly, your barely ate rice these few weeks, I found so many of the snacks I gave you in your drawer, and now I see your crying because of what? Comments?” Kenji ranted, he was clearly frustrated and concerned about your wellbeing, you turned off your phone and faced your body to him.

His eyes were yearning for answers, you then decided you can no longer keep this from him, it’s unfair as being in a relationship to not tell him what you’re going through, you sat up and sighed, “the public hasn’t been happy with how I’ve been looking like, plus companies I’m working with are forcing me to do something and fix the public view or it will not only cost me but somehow them as well,” you paused, you realized tears slowly started to drop one by one.

Kenji placed the plate to the bedside table, and held your hands, rubbing your skin hoping that it could comfort you, “I figured I might as well go back to my old diet and it could somehow fix this,” you finished, at that time your tears kept on falling that you harshly wiped them, avoiding the urge to break down that instant.

“But what about how people will say?” you said, fearing how mean the public can be, Kenji shook his head, “that’s just the haters, have even try to search for good comments and response? I bet they’re plenty,” Kenji suggested, you immediately picked up your phone but Kenji stopped you, “eat first then sleep we can continue this tomorrow,” Kenji urged, scratch that, he demanded. 

You then wrapped your arms around his waist, pulled yourself to him, planting your face on his chest, breaking down at the point. All the thoughts, the worry, the fear, you let out by crying to him. Kenji gave an understanding look, placing his arms around your figure, placing his chin above your head, muttering, “aw, my baby, been so tired, hm? It’s okay, I’m here,” you eventually stopped crying in a few minutes due to his words.

You and Kenji pulled away, as Kenji wiped the tears that were still resting on your cheek, softly smiling as he reached out to take the plate from the bedside table, taking a spoonful, “now eat.”

[xxsabitoxx]

How the Pillars react to your death

Important note: all of these deaths occur during the infinity castle arc, heavy and implied spoilers. Rengoku’s reaction to your death takes place before Mugen Train! Reader’s gender is unspecified.

Warnings: this post contains spoilers for the final arc of the manga. This includes implied spoilers for various characters. Please do not read this if you don’t want to be spoiled and don’t blame me if you go ahead and read it anyways lol

A/N: I wrote this whole post in my head while showering last night and I’m honestly offended it took me 3x as long to actually write it.

Giyu 

“CAWWW! DEAD! KOCHO SHINOBU AND L/N Y/N ARE DEAD! THEY DIED AFTER A CONFRONTATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO!” Giyu’s body comes to a screeching halt, Tanjiro shooting past him before falling to his knees as violent sobs wracked his body. Giyu, on the other hand, is frozen in place, a sob stuck in his throat. Shinobu’s death was a punch to the gut, but you? For the first time since Sabito had died, Giyu felt tears burning at the back of his eyes. Yet, nothing would come out, those tears wouldn’t break the barrier and slip down his cheeks. His tight throat would not let the sob escape. There was no possible way you were gone, you promised him you’d be okay. Though, childish beliefs like that reminded him of his own faults. Once again, he couldn’t protect the people he cared about. Rather than wallowing in sudden grief, he began moving again, past Tanjiro who was struggling to get back up. He needed to keep moving, if he didn’t stop, he was certain he would collapse entirely and never get up again. He couldn’t let your sacrifice go to waste. 

Shinobu 

Her feet barely hit the ground, body manoeuvring through the endless castle with one destination in mind. “CAWWW! DEAD! L/N Y/N IS DEAD! THEY DIED AFTER ENCOUNTERING UPPER MOON TWO!” She stumbles, shock hitting her like a bucket of ice water being dumped over her head. Her mind is racing, not willing to believe what the crow had just said to be true. You had steered away from the plan. In a desperate attempt to save Shinobu’s life you tried to defeat Upper Two yourself. Hot, angry tears are spilling down her cheeks, hand clutching her heart as she tries to understand. “Why would you do this? Why wouldn’t you take my word for it and go with Tomioka? Look what you did… you went and got yourself killed,” Yet again, Upper Two had taken something precious to her. One word flashed through her mind, alongside your beautiful face. Revenge. She would get her revenge, not only for Kanae, but for you. “Don’t worry, my love. I’ll be with you soon.” 

Rengoku 

It’s quiet, too quiet even. You should be back by now, the sun has fully risen. Kyojuro’s heart is hammering in his chest, doom creeping up his spine. He has an unshakable bad feeling about your late arrival. His worst fears are confirmed when your crow arrives without you. “No…” breathless, as if all the air is being ripped from his lungs. “Don’t say it…” his knees are giving out as your crow lands on the wooden porch. “T-they’re gone…aren’t they?” he chokes it out, the words are as bitter and burning as bile. Your crow only caws, soft and full of sorrow, unable to share the proper message as Kyojuro begins to sob. He’s curling in on himself, crying so loudly but unable to hear it due to the intensity of the ringing in his ears. It’s a panic attack manifesting in the most intense form. He can’t fathom a world without you, nevermind having to live in one. Senjuro is rushing to his brother's aid, seeing your crow gives him more than enough information to know as tears well in his eyes. 

Tengen

He’s kneeling dutifully outside of Nezuko’s room, Shinjuro by his side. His wives are inside, too stubborn to sit out and not help at all. Their excuse being that Nezuko saved his life, they owe her the same kind of protection now. You on the other hand, were too determined, leaving your retirement to fight the battle against the demon lord himself. Nothing Tengen nor his wives said could convince you to stay on the sidelines. His heart is sinking the moment your crow appears in the distance, he’d recognize it anywhere. “N-no… don’t you dare…” Tengen’s voice is cracking as it lands, Shinjuro is turning his head the other way, knowing what is to come. “Don’t you dare say they are dead…” his voice is rising in his panic, he knows the answer. The commotion has Makio, Suma and Hinatsuru running outside. The moment Hina’s eyes land on your crow, a violent sob escapes her chest, falling to her knees as Makio and Suma come to the same conclusion. “T-they’re dead…aren’t they?!” Makio sobs, Tengen can’t raise his head as your crow delivers your final message. 

Mitsuri 

She’s frozen in place as a crow comes directly for her, fear is ebbing through her body, a cold sweat forming on her brow. She knows the message before the crow can even utter it. “No! Go back! I don’t want to hear it!” Obanai is frozen beside her, grabbing her arm so she doesn’t collapse. The crow circles around her, cawing woefully as she begins to cry. “I-I don’t want to know! Don’t tell me!” she’s hiccupping as Obanai tries to pull her forward, they need to keep moving. “Mitsuri…” his voice is surprisingly soft, the crow is still circling overhead. “We need to hear the message…” she shakes her head, hands coming up to cover her ears as tears slip down her cheeks. The crow caws again, Obanai signals for it to deliver the message. “CAWWW! L/N Y/N IS DEAD! THEY DIED AFTER AN ALTERCATION WITH UPPER MOON ONE!” The crow continued on about who lived and who died, what was important is that upper moon one was dead. That didn’t matter to her though, no she couldn’t even hear the rest of the message over the ringing in her years. Mitsuri let Obanai tug her along, they needed to keep moving at whatever the cost. 

Muichiro 

“CAWWW! L/N Y/N IS DEAD!” He keeps running, uncertain as to why he feels a tightness in his chest at the crow’s message. “THEY DIED DURING A CONFLICT WITH UPPER TWO!” He’s still moving, more so concerned over his unexpected and overwhelming sadness. Why am I sad? I don’t even remember that name… but then your kind smile is flashing before his eyes and the world is crashing down around him. He comes to a screeching halt, eyes wide as he finally pieces together the message. “y/n…” how could he ever forget? Before he realizes it, he’s sniffling. Tears blur his vision for a moment before he blinks them away. He begins to move again, the sadness gripping his chest is slowly fading, fading until he can’t even remember why he got teary eyed in the first place. He needs to remember the task at hand… where was he heading again? 

Obanai

The flapping of wings catches him off guard, head craning upwards as the crow begins to caw. The noise is full of sorrow, which can only mean it bears bad news. “Obanai…” Mitsuri is watching the animal circle above them, her heart pounding erratically at the endless possibilities of the message it may share. “CAWWW! L/N Y/N IS DEAD! THEY DIED IN BATTLE AGAINST UPPER MOON ONE!” Obanai’s feet are slowing, hitting the floor beneath him with a little too much force as the message rings through his head over and over. “N-no… oh… Iguro I…” Mitsuri is crying, staring at the man beside her as the world seems to cave in on him. It’s as if everything is in slow motion for a few beats in time. The words the crow uttered felt foreign, your name paired with ‘dead’ didn’t make any sense in his mind. It was impossible really, there was no way you were dead. You had gone to face Upper One with Gyomei, Sanemi, Muichiro… four hashira against upper One and you didn’t make it? You were so strong… no the message can’t be correct. “Kanroji… let’s keep moving.” he’s turning it off, every swelling emotion is being suppressed as he takes off again. Mitsuri is left with no choice but to wipe her tears and follow. 

Sanemi

Upper Moon One is standing before him, Gyomei at his side. This battle needed to be won, if not, everything would be lost. The demon before him needed to be put down, there was no other option. He’s talking, but he couldn’t be bothered to listen. Rather, Sanemi is gauging every vital point he can strike and how to go about doing it. “CAWW! I BRING A MESSAGE!” he doesn’t glace up, nothing that crow could say would be able to break his focus. “L/N Y/N IS DEAD!” except for that. Sanemi inhales deeply, eyes widening significantly as he debates on if he heard the message correctly. “THEY DIED DURING AN ALTERCATION WITH UPPER MOON TWO! UPPER MOON TWO IS NOW DEAD!” it feels as if all the air in the room had been sucked away with the crow’s flapping wings. Upper One no longer seemed smug about the message after the addition of Upper Two being defeated. Beside him, Gyomei is crying. Sanemi doesn’t realize it, but so is he. He’s oblivious to the hot, angry tears rolling down his cheeks. Still, his patience remains intact, waiting for Gyomei’s signal to attack the high ranked demon. Now, he has absolutely nothing to lose. Kagaya is gone, now you are gone, it is likely the rest of the Hashira wouldn’t make it out of this… he has nothing left to fight for. 

Gyomei “CAWWW! L/N Y/N IS DEAD! THEY DIED AFTER ENCOUNTERING MUZAN!” Tears flow freely as he fights, part of him wishes he hadn’t been able to hear the message in the first place. You had met the unfortunate fate of encountering Muzan himself. It was likely that you were alone, if you weren’t, you were likely the strongest in your group. It pained him, knowing you likely died a brutal death. That pain fueled his attacks, taking every ounce of heartbreak and despair out on the demon before him. You didn’t deserve that, nobody deserved a fate that cruel. He keeps moving, mind reeling yet completely focused. It’s as if he is fighting in a bubble, the world muffled around him yet perfectly clear all at once. Too many emotions are raging through his soul to really pinpoint just one of them. He can only hope you’ll wait for him on the other side, he can only pray you’re watching over him at this very moment. Guiding him, giving him strength. “I’ll meet you again soon, don’t worry. I promise I won’t keep you waiting much longer. Wait for me, please? You will, won’t you?”

[g-hughes]

Let’s talk Nico Hischier in the form of a request shall we? "I just want you to be happy! And perhaps a little bit naked."

The Girl from Across the Hall - N. Hischier

masterlist || g's graduation celly

synopsis: Ever since he moved in, Nico has had a crush on his neighbor, but she doesn't feel the same way. . . or does she?

word count: 3.0k

warnings: idiots to lovers, mentions of hookups/sex, cursing, drinking

Nico had a crush. 

At age 25, Nico Hischier, captain of the New Jersey Devils, had a crush on his best friend. 

It wasn’t like Nico planned on falling in love with his best friend, it just kind of happened. He wasn’t sure when it happened, but it did, and there was nothing that he could do about it. 

Nico could remember the day he met her like it was yesterday. He had just been drafted by the Devils, and was moving into his apartment, by himself in Jersey City. He wouldn’t ever admit it out loud, but he was terrified; being in a new country, a new city, about to embark on a brand new journey in his life. Nico thought he was doing a good job at hiding his nerves, but apparently, he was not. 

On the second week of being on his own, Nico had ventured out to get some basic things for his apartment that his mother hadn’t already supplied him with. He was thankful that his parents had flown across the ocean to help him move in. He hadn’t ever lived on his own before, and found himself calling his parents almost every single day. Nico had gotten by for two weeks with the basic supplies and amenities he had, but he wanted to get some more things like a blender and a waffle iron, and maybe some decorative pillows. 

But Nico was a lot like his mother, and ended up buying a lot more than what he had wanted to get. With his arms full of shopping bags, Nico made the trek up to his tenth floor apartment, breaking a sweat by the time he got to his front door. He grunted as he shifted the bags around, trying to grab his keys out. 

“C’mon,” He said to himself, trying to adjust his keys in his hands, his arms beginning to hurt from the bags cutting off circulation, “Fuck! Fuck!” He cursed as his keys clattered to the ground, “Fuck!” 

“You okay?” A gorgeous girl in a pair of shorts and a tank top stood in her doorway, a confused look on her face. 

Nico sighed, and looked down at his keys, “Yeah.” 

“You sure?” She asked and Nico shook his head. 

“I dropped my keys,” He said in defeat. 

“I see,” She said, stepping out of the door, “You just move in?” He nodded, and she bent down to grab his keys, easily finding the one to the door, “I’m Y/N,” She introduced herself, putting the key in the lock, and turning it, “My sister and I live across the hall.” 

“Nico,” He said, and she pushed the front door open, “Thank you.” 

“No problem,” She nodded, “But you know. . . the doors have their own key fob you could’ve used. Hell of a lot easier than fiddling with a key,” Nico’s jaw dropped dumbfoundedly, as he watched Y/N skip back across the hall, “Nice to meet you, Nico!” 

And now, nearly 7 years later, Nico lived in the same apartment with Y/N still across the hall. Though things had changed over the years, such as Y/N’s sister moving out and Nico becoming the captain of the devils, their friendship never changed. They got closer as the years went on, both of them being the same age, having some of the same interests. But Nico was drawn to her personality; confident, sassy, smart, a beautiful person both inside and out, but also a bit intimidating. Nico had witnessed her first hand hold her ground against pissed off hockey fans, and dudes who think they are entitled to get something after a first date. 

And maybe that was why Nico was afraid to tell her how he felt. Or maybe it was because he didn’t want to lose her as a friend. Y/N had been one of the first people he had connected with when he moved to Jersey. She was there through it all, his tough rookie season, bad losses, exciting wins, being named captain, a run in the play-offs, a miserable season following. She was his person, his best friend. And he was going to be damned if he did anything to mess with that. 

So Nico kept his feelings a secret, and kept on playing the dutiful best friend role that he had been playing for the past 7 years. Even when all he could do was sit on a barstool and watch as she danced with some random guy at the bar. 

“You know,” Jack said, sitting down next to Nico, “This is getting pathetic.” 

“What is?” Nico asked, looking at his alternate captain. 

“You,” Jack said, honestly and the Swiss man furrowed his eyebrows, “And her,” Jack then pointed to where Y/N was, her back pressed against some guy as they swayed to the music. 

“She’s having fun,” Nico shrugged, “And I’m making sure he doesn’t disrespect her.” 

“Oh you are such a hero, Nico! A stand up guy! Oh please have my babies!” Jack feigned, batting his eyelashes in an exaggerated move, “You’re making me sad! It’s a bar! We just clinched a playoff spot! And you’re making me sad!” 

“Then don’t look at me,” Nico sassed back. He grabbed his beer and took a hefty sip, before looking back at the dancefloor where Y/N was still with that guy. She was facing him now, whispering something in his ear, as his hands sat dangerously low on her hips. Maybe they were discussing going home with each other. It wouldn’t have been the first time that Nico spotted her coming home with a guy or watching a guy leave out her front door. It broke his heart every single time, but he would never tell her that. 

“Look,” Jack said, sitting his beer down, “I am just looking out for you, okay. It is painfully obvious that you have a thing for Y/N, and it’s kind of obvious that she doesn’t feel the same. I don’t want to see you get hurt. And I feel like that's where this is heading.” 

Nico sighed, hanging his head, “So what do I do?” He asked honestly. 

“You find yourself a hottie, take her home, and bang her,” Jack said as if it was the simplest thing in the world, “Hey, I know that you haven’t had your dick in something other than your hand since you broke up with Macy eight months ago.” 

Jack was right, Nico hadn’t been intimate with anyone since his ex. Macy was a great girl, fantastic even. She never got mad or upset about him always being going or putting most of his focus on hockey and the team. The only issue was, she wasn’t Y/N. Nico hated that every time he kissed Macy or touched her, he would imagine she was Y/N. When Nico broke up with Macy, she wasn’t mad, and it was almost as if she expected it. She even told him that she knew his heart wasn’t completely in it, and that it belonged to someone else. 

“I don’t do one night stands,” Nico said. 

“How do you know? Ever had one?” 

Nico was silent for a moment, “No.” 

“Then?” Jack encouraged, “Just get it out of your system.” 

Nico pondered it for a moment, looking around the bar. It was packed, girls in scantily dressed clothing, and men with fake designer clothing on. The loud music felt like a second heartbeat in Nico’s chest, and the air was thick with sweat. 

“Her,” Jack said, pulling Nico’s attention, and pointing to a girl on the other side of the bar, “She’s just your type, she looks like Y/N.” Nico hated to admit it, but the girl on the other side of the bar did look a lot like Y/N. A tall-ish build, with beautiful curves and a bright smile. However this girl had a certain aura about her, as if she was commanding all eyes to be on here, where for Y/N, all the eyes in the room naturally followed her. 

“I’ll be back,” Nico said, chugging down the rest of his beer before going to the girl. 

It was about five minutes later that Y/N came bouncing up to the bar, out of breath, and in dire need of a drink. She loved going to bars and clubs like this. She loved feeling the bass in her bones, the bright lights robbing her of her site, the layer of sweat on her body. She knew that Nico hated it, but would grin and bear it just for her, he hated her going to these places alone. But the Devils were in the playoffs and so coming to the club was a must for celebration. 

“How ya been, Dancin’ Queen?” Jack greeted her. 

“Dying of thirst!” Y/N answered back, draping an arm around his shoulders. He held up his beer in offering and she shook her head, “Water, please. I don’t like drinking alcohol at the club.”

“You’re so weird,” Jack shook his head, but knew her reasoning. Y/N only liked to drink in a ‘controlled environment’ as she would call it, the comfort of her apartment or Nico’s or Jack’s, or anywhere that wasn’t in public. She was just naturally a ball of fun at the club, sober.

 Jack waved down the bartender and asked for a glass of water, which Y/N thanked him for. The cool liquid felt amazing down her dry throat, “Where’s Nico?” 

“Overthere,” Jack smirked, nodding towards the other side of the bar. Y/N’s eyes widened as she saw her best friend, leaned up on the side of the bar talking to a gorgeous woman, “Where’s your date?” 

“My date?” Y/N asked, looking back at Jack. 

“Yeah,” He shrugged, “The guy you were dry humping on the dance floor.” 

“Logan?” Y/N asked again, a laugh tumbling from her lips, “He’s been my friend since elementary. He’s just here for the weekend.” 

“Mhm,” Jack nodded, rubbing his lips together. Y/N looked back over towards Nico, a weird feeling in her chest as she watched him move in closer to the girl, and brush a strand of hair behind her ear. 

Y/N swallowed down the rest of her water, “I think I’m gonna call it a night. I’ll order an uber or something.” 

Jack snapped his head towards her, “What? No? You love this club!” 

“Yeah,” She sighed in defeat, “But I’m tired and my feet hurt and the music is starting to give me a headache.” Jack looked at her incredulously. Usually Jack and Nico were dragging Y/N out of the club at the end of the night, hardly ever did she want to leave before last call. Jack looked over at Nico, and then at Y/N, realization settling on his features. 

She was jealous. 

“Are you-” 

“I’m leaving,” Y/N ordered, turning on her heel, but Jack grabbed her arm. 

“Hey,” Jack said, “One, you’re not going to get into an uber by yourself on a friday night in Jersey City. I’ve watched enough SVU to know that’s a recipe for disaster.” 

“Thanks detective Tutuola,” Y/N crossed her arms over her chest, her breasts being pushed up over the top of her silver slip dress, “Are you coming then?” 

“Yes,” Jack grumbled, “Hold on.” He turned back towards where Nico was standing, waving his hand to get his friend’s attention, but Y/N was growing impatient, not wanting to stand there and watch Nico talk to some girl who was giving him ‘fuck me’ eyes. 

“Uber is two minutes out.” 

“Fuck it! I’ll just text him.” Jack groaned, slamming back the rest of his drink and getting up from his barstool, “C’mon.” He put his hand on the small of her back, leading her hastily out of the bar towards the awaiting bar.

“That’s seriously so cool!” The girl, whose name Nico learned is Megan, said, “I have only been to Switzerland once, and it was the most beautiful place I have ever been too. We went up to the mountains and ugh. . . that’s a sight I still have dreams about.” 

“Yeah it’s def-” Nico was cut off as his phone buzzed in his pocket, “Excuse me,” He blushed as he pulled his iPhone out of his pocket, seeing a message from Jack. His dark eyebrows furrowed as he read it and then looked up, seeing Jack slam his glass down and all but run out of the club, his hand on Y/N’s back. Nico looked back down at the message, anger blooming in his chest. 

‘Going home with Y/N. Don’t wait up.’ 

Nico clenched his jaw, sliding his phone back into his pocket. He huffed and turned towards Megan, “You want to get out of here?” 

Megan licked her lips and nodded, “Sure.” 

— — — 

This is what the walk of shame must’ve felt like, though she had little shame as she walked down the hallway on the tenth floor to her apartment. It was more like she didn’t want anyone to see her current state of dress, a large oversized t-shirt, a pair of men’s boxers, and white nike socks all courtesy of Jack Hughes. After they left the club, Y/N didn’t want to return to her empty apartment, instead she went back to Jack’s place, where Luke had escaped to earlier in the night. She had crashed in Jack’s bed after many more drinks and rounds of UNO. 

Now, she was making that fateful walk back home, her silver dress strewn over her arm and her heels in her other hand. Her hair was a mess of curls and hairspray, her face felt disgusting with the remnants of last night’s makeup. Y/N was almost home safe, when her neighbor opened his door, startling her. 

“Hey,” Nico said, standing shirtless in nothing but a pair of running shorts and sneakers, “You’re just getting home?” 

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded, “I ended up staying at Jack’s last night after we left.” 

Nico felt his heart speed up, “Seriously?” 

“Yeah,” Y/N said again, this time shrugging, “I felt like I had been home alone so much this week with you guys gone, and didn’t really want to come back alone so I-” 

“But you weren’t alone,” Nico crossed his arms over his chest, “You had Jack.” 

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed at the shift in Nico’s tone, “But I was tired of looking at the same scenery, I need a change. What’s with the interrogation?” 

“Just didn’t know you and Jack were like that.” 

“We have been for a while,” Y/N shifted on her feet, “Usually he comes over here cause Luke is-” 

“Luke knows?” 

“He lives there,” Y/N was growing confused and a bit annoyed, “Look, it’s not that deep. I crashed at his place last night. I don’t know why I’m getting grilled like a criminal right now.” 

“Cause he’s my teammate,” Nico grumbled. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling, anger, jealousy, sadness. “And we’re about to go into the playoffs and I don’t need some chick messing with his head.” 

Y/N was taken aback by Nico’s words. ‘Some chick’? Y/N wasn’t just some chick. She was Nico’s best friend, and considered an honorary WAG of the Devils organization. Everyone loved and adored her, inviting her to sit in the same section with the rest of the WAGs or on roadies or to watch parties. The coaching staff knew her on a first name basis and knew that if anything happened to Nico, she was the first person to call. Y/N L/N wasn’t just some chick. And Nico knew that. 

“Fine,” Y/N pursed her lips, “Good luck in the playoffs, Nico. I’ll leave you and the rest of your team alone.” 

“Wait, Y/N-” Nico was cut off by the loud slam of her front door and the lock turning. He groaned, cursing himself in his head as he walked up to her front door, pounding his fist against the wood. 

“Go away!” 

“No!” Nico protested, continuing his loud knocking on the door. 

Y/N rolled her eyes as she yanked the front door open, “Go away and quit knocking on my door like a lunatic!” Y/N went to slam her door in his face again, but Nico stopped it with his strong hand. She let out a huff as she turned on her heel, welcoming him into the apartment. 

“I’m sorry,” Nico said, running a hand through his hair, “You’re not just ‘some chick’. . .” He took in a deep breath, gathering up the courage, “You’re everything to me.” 

“Nico,” Y/N sighed, looking up at him from the couch. 

“Just listen,” Nico stood in front of her, “I’m in love with you. And I have been for a while. And I-I know you don’t feel the same way about me, and I’m okay with that. Well, I’m learning to be okay with that. It sucks, okay,” Nico shook his head with a self deprecating laugh, “It sucks because I just want you to be happy! And maybe a little naked with me,” His cheeks turned red and she couldn’t help but giggle, “But if that’s not what you want, then I’ll deal. I want what’s best for you and if Jack is what is best-” 

“Wait,” Y/N held her hand up, cutting Nico off in the middle of his confession, “Jack?” 

“Yeah,” Nico nodded, “You said that you guys have a-” 

“Oh my god,” Y/N couldn’t help the laughter falling from her lips. “Oh my god, Nico.” She closed the gap between them, placing her hands on his stubbled cheek, “Jack and I? We are friends. There is nothing and I mean nothing between us,” Her eyes searched his for a moment, as she drew in a breath, “I love you too. And I have for a while.” 

Nico didn’t hesitate to place his lips on hers, pulling her flush against his body. Years of pent up tension and wondering what the other was thinking washed away in an instant. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in his brown hair. When the two of them pulled away for air, Y/N rested her forehead against Nico’s. 

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” She asked. 

“Me? Why didn’t you?” Nico laughed, “God, we’re dumb.” 

“Yeah,” Y/N smiled up at him, “But you love me.” 

“That I do.”

[putellasawfc]

gingerbread competition!

leah williamson x reader

-

christmas music sounded from the bluetooth speaker that had been set up across the room, the familiar jingle of all i want for christmas is you by mariah carey filling the apartment you shared with your girlfriend of four years with a contagious level of christmas joy. the days had finally began to get chillier, the nights getting darker earlier and that’s all it took for you to get into the christmas spirit, which is why you had a variety of seasonal based activities ready for leah and yourself to partake in during the three day weekend you both had.

originally, you had really planned for tonight to be the night that you unpacked all the christmas decorations that you had stored in the loft and begin decorating your house. but after a long day of filming for different youtube videos and tiktok’s with the other arsenal girls, neither of you could be bothered with lugging down the boxes and bin bags that were filled to the brim with tinsel, baubles, stockings and lights. so instead, you went with the second best option. decorating a gingerbread house instead!

leah had been very scrooge about it at first, whining and wittering on about how there’s no point because it never stays up, even calling the whole thing a scam at one point but you had just tutted, claiming she just didn’t know how to build them properly.

“i do know how to build them! they’re just all flimsy, stay up for about five seconds and that’s it!” she defended herself, her brows furrowed in frustration as you stifled a laugh at how much offence she had taken to your previous statement.

“alright, alright. i believe you.” you teased, continuing to empty the gingerbread house kits you had picked up the day before. “i bet i can make mine look better than yours though.”

you knew the leah williamson could never back down from a challenge, her competitive streak was too high.

she scoffed, leaning forward with her elbows on the wooden table. “yeah right. sorry baby, but you have no chance.”

“well i actually have full confidence in my gingerbread house decorating abilities, so.” you said, dragging out the ‘o’ as you spread the different icings and sprinkles amongst the table, between the two of you. “why don’t we put a bet on it?”

“what kind of bet?” she eyed you, and you thought about it for a moment.

“whoever wins gets to choose an ugly christmas sweater that the loser has to wear to the next event we go to?” you suggested, that being the first thing that came to mind.

the blonde thought about it for a second, her gaze falling to the items on the table before she pursed her lips and slowly nodded, her blue eyes finding you again as she held out a hand in your direction.

“you have a deal.”

you grinned, wrapping your hand around her own and giving her a firm handshake. “may the best woman win.”

now, here you were almost twenty minutes later trying your best to apply the white icing onto the roof of your house that had miraculously managed to stay up for longer than fourty-five seconds, after you had generously coated the sides in too much icing. you would never admit it out loud, but leah was definitely right about the whole thing being flimsy. you had almost given up at one point in frustration after the house caved in on itself a sixth time.

“maybe we should’ve decorated cupcakes instead.” you mumbled, licking off some of the icing that had smudged on your thumb.

“i hate to say i told you so .. but.” the lioness captain huffed, “i definitely told you so.”

“when have you ever not enjoyed saying that?” you shot back, taking a quick glance towards her own house that had yet to be built, the woman deciding it would be better to decorate the pieces first and then stick them together after.

“i have my moments.”

you shook your head in amusement, finally satisfied with the amount of white, red and green icing that coated the house to mimic snow and tinsel. you moved to pick up a small bag of sprinkles that had already been opened by leah earlier, looking into the bag with furrowed brows.

“could’ve saved some for me babe.” you frowned, not even a quarter of the bag was full anymore.

“oops, my bad.” her tone was anything but apologetic, an amused smirk sat on her face and you elbowed her gently.

“you sabotaged me? that’s a yellow card!”

“i didn’t sabotage you! i just had to make my house look good, you wouldn’t understand.” she sent a playful look of concern to your creation and you gasped in mock offence.

“you’re so mean! my little house looks great.” you pouted, “would’ve looked even better if someone hadn’t used all sprinkles but … it’s okay i can still win without them.”

she scoffed at that, before the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, aside from the speaker that was still blasting out more christmas tunes as the night went on. you made do with the sprinkles you had left, carefully sticking them to the icing around your house, focusing on the outside of your roof to make it look like colourful christmas lights had been put up. you moved onto picking up different sweets, dotting them around the house wherever you thought looks best, just adding the finishing touches when a groan to the left of you caught your attention.

you raised a brow and looked over, not being able to help the smile that rose when you saw how much leah was struggling with putting the pieces together. she’d managed to get two to stick together, but then the other side would fall down, and then when she’d attempted to stick that side back together, another side would fall down, tangling her in a never ending cycle that was clearly annoying her with the way her brows touched and her jaw tensed.

“looks like your little sabotage was for nothing.” you chirped, revelling in the way it only made her more frustrated.

“shut up.”

you laughed, finally finishing the house before pushing it away slowly, relieved the whole ordeal was finally over. “ahhh, now i get to sit back and watch you struggle.”

“i’m breaking up with you.” she muttered under her breath, intense gaze not moving from her house.

“you’re not allowed.” you swiftly replied, leaning in closer to get a better look at the mess she was making. “maybe if you ask nicely, i could give you a hand.”

she didn’t reply at first, still attempting to finish the task herself, but when almost three minutes went by and she wasn’t getting any closer to completing it, she stomped her foot like a toddler throwing a tantrum and turned to you in annoyance.

“fine. help me.”

“uh, what was that?” you questioned, cupping your ear with your hand.

she rolled her eyes, throwing her head back in exasperation at your immaturity.

“please will you help me build my house?” she asked again, “before i throw it at a wall.”

you grinned, throwing an arm over your girlfriends shoulder and pulling her into your side, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek before nodding. “i’d love to.”

it took a little bit of work, the pair of you bickering back and forth when leah had accused you of putting too much pressure on it and you accusing her of letting go too soon, but eventually, the both of you pulled your hands away cautiously, giving it a few seconds just to make sure before you gave eachother a double high five, pleased that it had finally stayed put.

pushing it back slowly as you had done to yours previously, you both sat back and admired your efforts on both houses.

“think it’s gonna be a pretty close one love.” leah said, pulling up her phone ready to snap a picture for her instagram story, where you had planned to put up a poll to see who’d win.

“hmm, maybe.” you hummed in agreement, “but i think my gumdrops on the roof might just help me win.”

she rolled her eyes once again, but this time with less irritation now that the hard part was done with. “yeah, yeah. if you say so.”

the defender took a quick snap, moving her phone to show you her screen when not even second later did leah’s house fall apart, one of the pieces even landing on the floor with a soft thud.

“you’re having a laugh.”

[strayrockette]

My Sunshine Girl: A Healing Home

Masterlist❤️Previous Part

Summary: Having Benny around changes things for the better.

Themes: Family drama, underlying grief, and finding comfort in your favorite person

A/n: I didn't realize I was writing in first person and by the time I noticed I was already too deep in the process 🤷‍♀️LMK if you wanna be part of a taglist for this series, or for all my works!!

The weeks following the fight at the bar were a blur of quiet days and slow healing. Benny had told me to stay home until the bruises and scrapes faded, though he never really explained why I needed to lay low or how he planned to smooth things over with the cops. I didn’t press him on it. I trusted him enough to just listen, even if the silence that came with being cooped up sometimes felt too heavy to bear.

I called my uncle to let him know I was taking a few weeks off, spinning some story about needing to clear out the attic and sort through old boxes that had been collecting dust since my childhood. It wasn’t a lie, exactly; the attic had been long overdue for a cleanout. But what I hadn’t expected was how many old memories would come flooding back during those quiet weeks at home.

Some days, the house felt haunted by the past—pictures of my mom tucked away in forgotten corners, trinkets from a time when life felt simpler. I’d find my old pookie bear, the one my ma had made me, and all at once, the grief would hit me hard, like no time had passed at all. I’d crumble under the weight of it, tears streaming down my face, and Benny would be right there, no questions asked. He didn’t pry when I broke down, didn’t push for explanations. He just wrapped his arms around me, letting me cry it out until the storm passed.

He was my buffer, my anchor, the one constant in a sea of emotions I wasn’t always prepared to deal with. And even on the hardest days, he made it easier just by being there.

But it wasn’t all sadness. Sometimes, between the dusting and sorting, we’d stumble onto something that would break the tension and remind me that joy still had a place in this old house. Like the day Benny found my middle school diary—tucked away in a box of yearbooks and scribbled notes, full of awkward confessions and childhood crushes. I was mortified, scrambling to snatch it out of his hands as he held it above his head, flipping through the pages with a devilish grin.

“Number one: Mr. O’Connell, your eighth-grade math teacher? Really?” Benny read aloud, his tone dripping with mock horror as I jumped, trying and failing to grab the diary back.

“Oh my god, Benny, stop!” I begged, my face burning as I reached up, but he just laughed, lifting the diary higher, making a game out of it.

“You had a thing for math, huh? Or just guys with glasses?”

I groaned, mortified but unable to keep the smile off my face. “Give it back! I swear, I’ll—”

Benny kept reading, amused at my futile attempts. I shoved a nearby box over, using it as a makeshift step stool, only for it to collapse under me, sending me tumbling to the floor. The crash echoed through the attic, and for a second, everything went silent before Benny’s laughter broke the tension, deep and infectious.

I looked up, sprawled on the floor, and started laughing too, the kind of uncontrollable, belly-aching laughter that leaves you breathless and teary-eyed for all the right reasons. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed like that in this house.

We spent the rest of the day making new memories, each corner of the attic becoming less about the past and more about the here and now. Benny helped me pack away the old pain and fill the empty spaces with something lighter, something new. The house felt different by the end of those weeks, less like a museum of all the hurt I’d carried and more like a home that was ours.

Every time I looked at a corner that used to be filled with sadness, I felt gratitude instead—a quiet, blooming joy that wrapped itself around my heart. I wasn’t forgetting my mom or the pain we’d both gone through, but I was finding a way to make room for happiness too.

The midday sun streamed through the kitchen window, casting warm, golden light across the countertops as I moved around the stove. The smell of homemade tomato soup filled the air, mingling with the buttery aroma of the grilled cheese I was making for lunch. I knew Benny was supposed to be out the door over an hour ago, but here he was, his arms snug around my waist and his head resting comfortably on my shoulder. I could feel the soft, steady rhythm of his breathing against my back, his presence grounding me in a way that made the entire world feel right.

“Weren’t you supposed to leave an hour ago?” I whispered with a giggle as he kissed the sensitive spot on my neck, his lips lingering just long enough to make my skin tingle.

Benny hummed, his voice low and lazy, full of that warmth that always sent shivers down my spine. “You’re holding me hostage,” he murmured, nuzzling into my neck like he had all the time in the world.

I scoffed, flipping the sandwich in the pan, the bread sizzling as it turned a perfect golden brown. “I hope that’s not what you’re tellin’ the boys,” I teased, trying to keep the smile off my face as his kisses grew more persistent, more playful.

“They’d believe it,” he said, his lips brushing against my skin as he grinned. “You were a sight of fear for them that night.”

I nudged him gently, still caught off guard by the way he made me feel so seen, so known. “No way they fear me,” I said, laughing at the absurdity of it. The idea of those big, greasy, tattooed men being scared of someone like me was ridiculous. I was a lot of things, but intimidating wasn’t one of them—not to them, at least.

Benny chuckled softly, his voice a warm rumble that I felt all the way to my bones. “You were a force,” he said, and I could hear the pride mixed with amusement in his tone. “Five women tried to pull you off, and you broke through them—teeth, nails, and limbs flying everywhere. Like a little monkey.”

I gasped, feigning offense as I pushed him back playfully, though his hold on me didn’t loosen. “Rude!” I scolded, my cheeks warming as I turned the sandwich again, trying to focus on the task at hand despite the way his words made my heart race.

Benny laughed, the sound deep and peaceful, wrapping around me like a favorite song. “I never want to think about that night ever again,” I sighed, shaking my head at the memory. I’d gone to the bar looking for some fun, but it had turned into anything but that. “Eat your grilled cheese and leave me alone, Benny Cross. You’ve made enough rude comments for one day.”

He dipped lower, his lips brushing my cheek, then my jaw, peppering soft kisses along my skin until I was practically squirming from the attention. “I’m waiting,” he murmured, his voice smooth as honey, and I knew he was enjoying every second of this.

“Your plate was already made,” I said, my tone dripping with disbelief as I tried to keep my composure. I pointed to the counter where his sandwich and soup were sitting, perfectly plated and ready to eat. “Right there.”

“For you,” he whispered against my ear, his hands roaming my sides in a slow, soft caress that sent jolts of pleasure through me. He was relentless, every touch deliberate, every kiss a gentle tease that made it hard to think straight.

I bit down on the wave of heat that spread through me, refusing to give in completely. “If I hear someone make a comment about me keepin’ you hostage the next time I’m at the bar, I swear I’m chucking an 8-ball at ‘em,” I warned, trying to sound stern, but my voice came out breathless, betraying the effect he had on me.

Benny grinned, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered, “Let ‘em talk, Sunshine. You’ve got nothing to prove.” His hands continued their slow exploration, skimming over my hips and up my back, a mix of comfort and desire that made my knees weak. “Besides, I like being held hostage by you.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and free, bubbling up from somewhere deep inside me. “Yeah, well, you better behave,” I said, turning just enough to look at him, catching the mischievous glint in his eyes. “Or I might just let you go.”

He pulled me closer, his grip firm but tender, holding me in place as he looked down at me with that lazy, cocky smile I’d grown to love. “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried,” he said, his voice low and rough, filled with something deeper than just teasing. “I’m right where I wanna be.”

I leaned into him, letting the warmth of his body and the comfort of his words wrap around me like a blanket. His stubble tickled along my neck with each kiss he placed. I shivered and inched away from him with a giggle, "At least let me finish plating my dish."

He grumbled as he stepped away, grabbed his plate, and moved to sit at the table. I glanced over my shoulder and found him staring intently at me, his eyes dark and.. "Oh my gosh, Benny, are you pouting??" I squealed, "I'm so telling-"

My teasing quietened as a rapid knock broke our moment. The knock wasn’t just loud—it was aggressive, rattling the walls with an urgency that made my heart jump. Benny stood up from the table, his easy smile fading as the tension in the air thickened. I watched as he walked to the door, his shoulders squared and ready for whatever trouble was waiting on the other side. I barely heard the door open before a booming voice echoed,

“Where is she?”

Uncle Harold boomed, his voice filling every corner of the room. Benny instantly stepped in front of him, his stance protective and his jaw clenched tight. I could feel the anger radiating off Harold in waves, each word landing like a blow.

“You need to back off, Harold,” Benny said, his voice edged with warning as he kept his body between me and my uncle. “You can’t just come in here like this.”

But Harold was past listening. He shoved Benny aside, his eyes searching the room until they found me, just as I stepped around the corner from the kitchen. I froze, the intensity of his glare pinning me in place. Benny quickly moved to close the door behind Aunt Gina and stepped in front of me, blocking my uncle’s line of sight. His broad back was a shield between me and the onslaught of Harold’s rage.

“What’s going on?” I asked, my voice shaky but defiant. I tried to look around Benny, but he held his ground, his presence a firm line of defense.

Harold’s face was twisted with anger, his fists clenched as he pointed at me. “You’ve got this boy living in your mama’s house!” he shouted, his voice cracking with emotion. “And I’ve got Old Man Harry telling me you’ve got a bunch of Vandals vouching that you weren’t in a fight when six women described you in detail!”

The words hit like a slap, the sheer force of his anger pressing down on me, but as his accusations rang out, something inside me snapped.

Benny glanced back at me, his eyes searching mine, but he didn’t move from his spot in front of me. He was there, steady and unflinching, even as the storm raged on. “Harold, you need to calm down,” Benny said, his voice low and tense. “She doesn’t need this from you.”

I stepped around Benny, frustration boiling over. “DO YOU EVEN HEAR YOURSELF RIGHT NOW?” I yelled, my voice trembling with fury and years of bottled-up hurt. “You used to be a biker too! You still have your bike! You know what that life is like!”

“That’s different,” Uncle Harold snapped, his anger flaring again as he tried to reel himself back, but I wasn’t about to let him off that easy.

“No, it’s not!” I shot back, my voice breaking. “When you met Aunt Gigi, you’d just gotten out of jail! She still gave you a chance. She saw something in you that no one else did. How is it any different for me and Benny?”

Harold’s face tightened, his anger battling with the guilt that flickered briefly in his eyes. “It’s different because your mama made me promise,” he said, his voice straining, shaking with unspoken grief. “She made me promise that I’d protect you. I gave her my word that I’d be the father you needed.”

Pain gripped my chest, sharp and unforgiving. My throat tightened as I tried to hold back the emotions that threatened to swallow me whole. “Don’t bring her into this!” I shouted, my voice cracking under the weight of it all. The mention of my mom felt like a knife, twisting deep. The hurt was suffocating, choking me with memories of promises I never asked for.

Harold’s face contorted with pain and fury, his voice shaking as he continued. “You’re running around with this boy, getting into trouble, doing things you shouldn’t. You aren’t the little girl we raised.”

I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to steady myself, but the grief and anger were a tidal wave, pulling me under. I tried to step around Benny, desperate to confront my uncle face-to-face, but Benny’s arm shot out, his hand gently tucking me behind him. His body was a shield, protecting me even when I was ready to charge headfirst into the fire.

“Harold, enough,” Benny said, his voice like steel, unyielding and protective. “You don’t get to judge her. You don’t get to make her feel small.”

I peeked around Benny, the tears burning in my eyes as I stared at my uncle. “You never knew me,” I said, my voice cracking with the raw truth I’d kept buried for years. “Because the little girl you raised was broken, scared and angry. You never saw that, did you? You never saw how hard it was to keep it together, how much I was hurting.”

The room was thick with tension, the air heavy with the weight of unspoken pain. Aunt Gina stepped closer, her face etched with sadness as she watched me unravel. “Sunny, we’re just trying to help,” she said softly, her voice a calm presence amidst the chaos. “We love you. We don’t want to see you get hurt.”

But I was too far gone, too tangled up in my own grief and anger to let the words soothe me. “I know you love me,” I said, my voice trembling as I fought to keep control. “But you don’t get to decide what’s best for me anymore. You don’t get to come in here and throw around all your guilt and promises like they’re weapons.”

Harold’s face fell, the anger draining away, leaving only the hollow ache of regret. His shoulders sagged, and for the first time, he looked at me not with fury, but with a kind of desperate sorrow. “I’m scared, Sunny,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m scared I’m failing her. Failing you. I don’t want to lose you.”

The admission hit me harder than any of his accusations. I could see the guilt and fear that mirrored my own, the weight of promises made in grief and love and uncertainty. But this wasn’t just about him, and it wasn’t about my mom. It was about me.

I took a shaky step forward, Benny’s hand still resting on my shoulder, grounding me. “You’re not failing me,” I said, my voice softening as the anger ebbed away, replaced by something gentler. “But you’ve got to let me live. You’ve got to trust me to make my own choices, even if they’re messy.”

Aunt Gina reached out, squeezing Harold’s arm, her touch a quiet anchor pulling him back. She looked at me, her eyes filled with a sadness that was heavy and old, and nodded slowly. “We just want you to be happy,” she said, her voice choked with the weight of everything left unsaid.

“I am happy,” I whispered, looking up at Benny, who watched me with those steady eyes that had been my rock through it all. “Because I’m finally living for me.”

Uncle Harolds expression softened, the lines of his face deepening as he looked at me, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his own failures. “Forgive me,” he murmured, his voice breaking with raw vulnerability. It wasn’t just an apology for tonight, but for everything—for every time he’d let his anger and grief overshadow his love for me.

Harold bowed his head, the pain etched deep into his features, and without another word, he turned away, his broad, hulking figure seeming smaller, more fragile as he walked toward the door. He moved slowly, like he was dragging the weight of the world behind him, every step heavy with the sorrow of a man who’d tried to do right but hadn’t always known how.

Aunt Gina lingered for a moment, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and quiet reassurance. She reached out, squeezing my arm gently, her touch warm and grounding. “We’re still here, Sunny,” she said softly, her voice laced with a kind of fierce love that made my chest ache. “No matter what, we’re still here for you.”

I nodded, feeling the sting of tears that I refused to let fall. “I know,” I whispered, my voice catching as I met her gaze. “Thank you.”

Gina gave me a soft, reassuring smile, the kind that spoke of years of shared memories, both good and bad. She glanced at Benny, her expression shifting to something like cautious hope, and then back at me, her eyes full of unspoken promises. She turned to follow Harold, her footsteps light but purposeful, and with one last look, she stepped through the door, closing it softly behind her.

With the door closed and my aunt and uncle finally gone, the weight of their words hung heavy in the air, settling deep into my bones. The playfulness of our earlier mood had completely vanished, replaced by something darker and more somber. I stood in the middle of the room, feeling lost, unsure of what to do with myself as the emotional turmoil that always seemed to follow me crept back in. I had thought I’d managed to escape it these past few weeks, hiding in the warmth of Benny’s company, but now it was back, clawing at me with a vengeance.

I sniffed, trying to swallow down the lump in my throat, the familiar sting of tears threatening to break free again. “I need a nap,” I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper. I couldn’t even bring myself to look at Benny, my gaze fixed on the stairs as I rushed past him, desperate to get away, to hide from the flood of emotions crashing over me.

I stumbled into the bedroom, shutting the door behind me and collapsing onto the bed. I curled up into a tight ball, pulling the blankets around me as if they could shield me from everything swirling inside my head. My uncle’s voice echoed, relentless and unforgiving, each word like a dagger twisting deeper. ‘I promised your ma I’d take care of you.’ The guilt, the pressure, the overwhelming sense of being a disappointment—it all wrapped around me, suffocating and relentless.

I buried my face into the pillow, my chest tightening with each shaky breath as I tried to keep it together. But it was no use. The tears came anyway, hot and uncontrollable, spilling over as I silently sobbed into the fabric. The pain of my past, the weight of everyone’s expectations—it was too much. All the anger, the sadness, and the unresolved grief came rushing back, drowning me in a wave of emotions I didn’t know how to handle.

I didn’t hear Benny come in, but I felt the bed dip as he sat beside me, his presence a quiet, grounding force that I hadn’t realized I was desperate for. He didn’t say anything, didn’t ask me to talk or try to pry me open. He simply wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close, his body fitting around mine like a protective shield. I felt his head nestle into the crook of my neck, his breath warm and steady against my skin.

He didn’t let go, didn’t pull back when I tensed, just held me tighter, his arms firm and unyielding. Benny’s embrace was like an anchor, something solid and real in the middle of my storm. His touch was gentle, each stroke of his thumb against my shoulder a silent reassurance that I wasn’t alone, that I didn’t have to carry all of this by myself. I felt the trembling in my body start to ease, the frantic beating of my heart slowly matching the calm, even rhythm of his.

Benny’s presence was more than just comforting; it was life-saving. He grounded me in a way that nothing else could, pulling me back from the edge of my own despair. The panic, the guilt, all the things I kept locked away—they didn’t feel so unbearable with him there, holding me through it. I closed my eyes, letting myself sink into the warmth of his embrace, feeling the tension slowly begin to drain from my muscles.

He kissed my shoulder softly, his lips brushing against my skin in a gesture so gentle it almost broke me all over again. I felt the tears well up once more, but this time they were softer, less frantic, as if Benny’s presence was slowly unwinding the tight knot of pain inside me. I turned slightly, pressing my face into his chest, breathing him in—the scent of leather, smoke, and something uniquely his that always made me feel safe.

“I’ve got you,” Benny whispered, his voice low and hushed, like a secret meant only for me. His hand moved up to cup the back of my head, his fingers threading through my hair as he held me close. “You’re not alone. I’m right here.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, the words breaking through my defenses in a way that nothing else had. Benny didn’t try to fix me, didn’t pretend that he could make everything better, and that was exactly what I needed. He was just there, unconditionally, holding me as I broke down, no judgment, no expectations—just a quiet, unwavering support that made me feel like maybe I could keep going, even when everything felt impossible.

I pulled back just enough to look up at him, my eyes puffy and wet, but his gaze was soft and full of something that made my heart ache. I saw the way he looked at me—not with pity, but with an understanding that went deeper than words. He brushed his thumb across my cheek, wiping away the last of my tears, and I felt the flood of emotion rise up again, but this time it was different, warmer.

“I love you,” I whispered, the confession spilling out before I could second-guess it. It was raw and unguarded, the truth laid bare in the quiet space between us. For the first time, it didn’t feel scary to say. It felt right.

Benny’s face softened, and a smile tugged at his lips, gentle and filled with a quiet joy that made my heart flutter. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against mine, his eyes closing as he let the words sink in. “I love you, too,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “More than you know.”

I melted into him, my arms wrapping around his neck as he held me tighter, his embrace a sanctuary from the world outside. The chaos, the pain, my uncle’s harsh words—they all faded into the background, replaced by the steady, calming presence of Benny beside me. I buried my face against his chest, letting myself be small and vulnerable, knowing that with Benny, I didn’t have to be anything but myself.

Taglist: @storiesfromafan@aleemendoza2425-blog , @preciouslilmonster , @iamaslytherin0

[redroomreflections]

Well Worth The Wait

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader Summary : R and Nat have a night alone - based on The Loud House couple that can be found on A03

Note: These are reuploads.

18+ Minors DNI (it's smut)

w/c: 4k

The door slowly opened to reveal the scene beyond. In the living room of Natasha’s suite were candles lit up in various spots. Some are taller than others, and some brighter than others. Rose petals lined a trail to the middle of the room where there was a picnic-like setting waiting for you. A champagne bottle sitting on ice. It all added to the ambiance of the room. You stepped further inside, and Natasha’s footsteps could be heard behind you through the clacking of her heels against the floor. She reaches for your hand when she realized you’ve stopped.

“I guess Sam does know how to decorate,” You comment as you find a fully decorated table for dinner. This evening had been planned for weeks. A night at the Compound. A date for just the two of you to reconnect and talk with each other. Here you had total privacy. Soundproof walls, nice air conditioning, and a fully stocked fridge. No kids running around. No phones. No work emails. A luxurious night if you do say so yourself. Natasha’s suite in the Compound is huge. It's kind of romantic if you think about it. Every time you’re here you remember the nights you spent together before marriage. The times you promised each other the world. Crazy how things turn out.

“Sam said dinner will be ready in twenty minutes,” Natasha tilts her chin towards the kitchen where you can smell the fragrance of whatever is cooking wafting through the air. “For now how about drinks?” She suggests and you nod. You watch as Natasha struts into the kitchen. You decide to stay behind and explore a bit more. There’s a blanket right in front of the fireplace. Sam’s doing? Along with a red box that you’re sure you’re not supposed to touch. Curiosity gets the best of you and you walk over to shake it. Could this be the gift? You know the one. Natasha promised to give it to you the night of Christmas but Paige broke a fever so you rainchecked. Then Charlie got sick too. Then the rest of the house. Next thing you knew it was time for work again. Weeks went by and you never got around to opening your gift. That doesn’t mean you forgot about it. Natasha mentioned it once or twice in passing. She knew how to keep you wanting more. Which is why you’re so excited to open it. Your fingertips trace across the red ribbon, pinching close together to rip it open when you hear Natasha’s footsteps once again.

You pretend as if you weren’t going to touch anything and instead walk over to the double doors of the suite. There’s a balcony here. It overlooks the beautiful forest of upstate NY. You reminisce on the nights you would sit here with your laptop and phone. You’d work and work some more until Natasha was done with her Avenging duties. When she finally arrived home she would come and sit in your lap, give you a big kiss, and fall asleep in your arms. It’s amazing how so much of your life has changed. In a way, the suite was your first apartment together, and now you have a home with your littles.

“What are you thinking about?” Natasha asks as you turn to her. She passes you a full tumbler before taking a sip of her own drink.

“You,” You swirl the liquid around in the cup, watching the ice ding against the edge, before taking a drink. Screwdriver. Vodka and orange juice. Not a bad drink though you think Natasha mixed it for your benefit. “Us.”

“A lot to think about then,” Natasha lowers her drink. She follows your line of sight to the infinity pool directly below you. Many nights she’d watch you swim. You were always so graceful.

“Did you ever think we’d be here?” You glance over at her. “When you think about the beginning and everything we went through. You and Me. Did you ever think we’d have this?”

“I did,” Natasha shrugs. “When I allowed myself to. I’ve only ever wanted it. This. With you.” She confirms. In the beginning, your relationship with Natasha wasn’t easy. It was rough and heartbreaking, and pain-inducing all at once. It was also fun, and exhilarating, and everything you dreamed of all rolled into one. In the distance, there’s a timer that goes off. Dinner is ready. You follow Natasha into the kitchen. She sets her glass down on the counter in exchange for oven mitts. She takes out the pan of lasagna. “There’s a salad in the fridge. It’s fresh. Can you pull that out?” She asks and you quickly get to work. You spruce it up, making sure it's to your liking before you both carry everything into the living room.

It’s there you sit across from each other. Natasha is wearing a dress and so she opts to have a pillow sitting in her lap.

“For modesty,” She said even though you’ve seen everything she has to offer. Not that you mind seeing it again. In fact, you welcome it. You take care to fill both of your plates with food. Though you’re sure Natasha will be eating off of yours.

You engage in small talk. It’s odd to do all things considered but you find that you enjoy it. Any time you could get with Natasha was always cherished.

“I love what you did with your hair,” She rests her chin on her hand to admire you. You knew she would. Your hair took hours to do. From the wash routine to the straightening and curling, and down to the styling. Your hair falls into soft ringlets around your face, barely brushing past your shoulders.

“Try not to mess it up,” You take in a forkful of lasagna. Promises of what’s to come in the air between you.

“I make no promises,” She laughs. She takes another sip of her drink to finish it off.

“You made me wait a long time,” You gesture to the box still waiting to be opened.

“I assure you it will be well worth it,” Natasha promises. She scoots around the table to come and sit next to you. You immediately open up to her so that she can crawl into your arms. She kisses your jaw several times before settling her head on your shoulders. “I know it’s been a long while since we have been intimate.”

“A while,” You repeat jokingly. Natasha nods. It’s been a month. A long month. Not that you’re counting or anything. “It has been but it doesn’t matter because I have you all night and all morning.” You tap her nose. “Maybe we can take a bath? A massage? I know you like those.”

“You’re so good to me,” She murmurs.

“I’m only giving back what I receive,” You kiss the side of her head. For a moment, you two sit together in silence. Natasha takes your hands into her lap to toy with your wedding ring on her finger. A small symbol of your love. You haven't taken it off since the day you said 'I Do'. Neither has she with the exception of missions and fieldwork.

“Y/n,” She says. You lift your head up to look down at her. “I’d like for us to do this more often.” She turns to look at you. “I want us to always make this time for each other. It hasn’t been long but it feels like it’s been ages.”

“Having four children will do that to you,” You nod in agreement. “I promise. A night to us. Whenever we can.”

“You want another drink?” Natasha asks and you enthusiastically pass her your cup. You would be making the most of tonight.

Another hour passes where you simply sit and enjoy each other’s company. Every so often one of you will bring up a new topic or random thing that comes to mind. Overall you just want to spend time with your wife and you’re doing exactly as you planned. As the night winds down, you’re even more excited to be opening ‘The Gift’.

************************

“Spunk?” You test the phrase on your lips. You snort at the word written in large white letters along the black-wrapped casing of the bottle. What an interesting yet accurate name for a semen-like lubricant. Natasha glances over at you from her spot beside the bed. She’s lighting more candles here in the bedroom. You would help but you’re feeling a bit…light.

“The girl in the store said it was the best-selling option,” Natasha murmurs as she lifts the small red box. She places it in front of you. You’re still stuck on the fake cum. It’s such an exciting concept—one of your wildest fantasies coming true. The black bottle is simple and pretty self-explanatory. You turn it over in your hands. It’s new. “Could it be any more obvious?” You twist open the cap, and bring the open lid to your nose, to smell the fragrance. You scrunch your nose, anticipating something weird, and only get a citrusy smell in return. “Babe is this safe to be using inside you?” You ask. You’re a bit unsure. You try to read the ingredients on the back. The print is incredibly small. You squint. Interesting.

“I’ve tried it,” Natasha shrugs.

Wait. Pause. You lower your hand to look over at her.

“On yourself?” You ask and she rolls her eyes.

“No, on Wanda,” She jabs but at your interested look she changes her tune. “Yes on myself.” She says exasperatedly.

“Damn, that’s hot.” You mutter. Visuals of Natasha touching herself flash through your mind. You can imagine how good she looked with her fingers stuffed inside of her dripping wet pussy. You picture her face as she spread the sticky substance over her clit. Damn. You can’t wait to be able to do the same.

“It doesn’t take much for you, huh?” Natasha rounds the bed to stand between your legs. Your hands take their usual spot on her hips. You squeeze the skin underneath your fingers, eyeing her cleavage before looking into her eyes. She’s amused.

“Well, when my wife looks like this,” You shrug. Could she really blame you? “My panties are flooded every time you look my way.”

Natasha hums as she swipes her thumb across your bottom lip. “How much did you have to drink again?”

“Not enough,” You open your mouth to allow her to slip her finger inside of it. You suck on the digit, swirling your tongue over the edge of it before you release it with a pop. You purse your lips, hoping she gets the hint. She does. Natasha leans down to press her lips against yours. You moan at the taste of her. Strawberries and cream. Was she wearing lipgloss? You swipe your tongue against her lips asking for permission. Natasha obliges. Her tongue tentatively licks yours. You return the sentiment with enthusiasm. You pull back and look into her dilated- lust-filled eyes before you dive back in. Kissing Natasha would never get old. You don’t ever want to lose the feeling of absolute love and adoration you feel. The blooming in your chest that seemed to explode whenever she touched you is euphoric. She breathes harshly before pushing against your shoulders. You don’t have to be a master in body language to know what she wants. You lie back against the sheets pulling her down with you. She straddles your lap, her fingers finding the buttons of your creme satin button-down. One by one, your skin is exposed to the cooler air of the room. She pushes her fingers under the fabric, finding your nipple already a hardened peak.

“Nat,” You moan into her mouth as she pinches and tugs. She pries herself from your lips to kiss a trail from your neck to your chest. She nudges the covering away with her nose to take your nipple between her lips. She sucks, licks, and lathes until she’s satisfied. Then she moves over to your other breast to give it much of the same treatment. You thread your fingers through her hair. “Nat, fuck, I need you.” You’re not usually this needy. Not this compliant. She’s leading and you’re enjoying it. You know she does too. Much like your shirt, she unbuttons your pants, gripping the belt loops to tug them down your waist. You lift your hips to aid her.

“Here?” She questions as she pushes your legs apart. You nod wordlessly. You’d like her tongue on you. In you. Natasha settles on her stomach, no doubt preparing herself for a ride, as she kisses and bites at your inner thigh. The skin is sensitive there as her hair tickles with every move she makes. You look up at the ceiling in anticipation. The first lick is kitten-like. The second has your mouth dropping open as she pushes your panties further to the side. She wants full access. Natasha licks and licks until finally, she sucks your clit into her mouth. The moan you let out is low and guttural. The high you feel as she gives you her all. It never ceased to amaze you at how well she knew your body. Natasha knows every spot to lick and touch. Every inch and how to play it well. She raises one hand to spread your legs wider. When she’s sure you’ll be staying put, she presses two fingers at your entrance. The fill is amazing. She pumps into you, matching the rhythm of your hips, as she fucks you. You’re not going to last long, You’ve been wanting this. Your moans are frequent. Tumbling out of you like a mantra as she brings you to orgasm. You flutter around her fingers, clenching violently, as she hums. The vibrations give you the much-needed push as you lay spent. Finally, with a little reluctance, Natasha releases your clit from her mouth. She kisses your inner thigh again before coming to lie next to you.

You try to catch your breath. Your head lolls to the side to look over at her with glassy eyes.

“Fuck,” You breathe. She chuckles lowly. Does she know what she does to you? The power that she holds? “Give me a minute and I will absolutely rock your world.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second,” Natasha helps you out of your shirt. Next, she takes off her own clothes, a fiery red dress with laced backing, leaving her in nothing but her panties and heels. Five-inch stilettos that show off her toned legs. She reaches down to take them off and you tap at her.

“Leave them on,” You plead and she releases the straps. “Come here,” You whisper. “I want you here with me.” You say. She nods. She crawls over to you, settling herself on your hips, before leaning down again. “How did I get so lucky?” You ask rhetorically as you look into her eyes. She smirks. You know the one. She’s just a little bit shy about this entire thing and you find that endearing and so sexy. Having a soft moment when you’re about to do nothing but dirty things to her is an amazing thing.

“So I’m guessing I mixed those drinks a little too well?” Natasha murmurs as she traces her fingers along your cheek.

“Extremely well,” You nod your head in agreement. “I’m not drunk. Honest.” You laugh at Natasha’s eyebrow raise. “I’m just really in love with you?”

“Is that a question?”

“Not even,” You shake your head. “I really want to fuck you now.” You confess and this causes Natasha to giggle. She finds the tipsy version of you quite funny. “Are you going to finally let me get my gift?” You ask with a pout. “It’s been so long.”

Natasha reaches above your head, her breasts in your face, as she reaches for the box. You watch the firm soft globes, hanging freely before you raise your head to give one of them a soft bite. Natasha flinches in surprise, dropping the box next to you as she sits up again.

“That’s the mood you’re in tonight?” She asks amusedly. She opens the box, pulling out the dildo along with its harness.

“Nat,” Your eyes widen. “This one looks so realistic.” You take the toy in your hand. It’s at least 8 inches long. Thick and veiny. A smooth tip. The same color as your skin and you don’t know if she made that choice for you or her but you’re not complaining at all. The phallus has a pair of testicles that you’re inclined to squeeze until Natasha lies a hand over yours to stop you.

“It’s filled,” She says and you immediately understand what she means. You turn over the dildo in your hands.

“So, I can cum inside you?” You ask in wonderment. Okay. Maybe you’re just a little bit drunk but you feel like it’s Christmas and your birthday rolled into one . “Oh, babe, I have to use this on you.”

“Are you sure you can handle it?” She asks.

“Positive,” You stand to fix the harness around your hips. Next is the dildo that you attach with ease. Natasha looks so delicious sitting before you. Her legs were crossed at the ankle. Her eyes showed her absolute desire and hunger for you. When you’re sure everything is fixed into place accordingly, you crawl into the bed. You bracket your arms around her body, her legs parting automatically, as the head of the penis slides against her panty-covered core. Natasha’s lips drop open as she closes her eyes to enjoy the feeling. You kiss her open mouth first. Then her cheeks, her jaw, behind her ear. Anywhere you can get your lips on. You give a tiny lick to the hollow of her neck. She moans slightly. Your hips cant into her, gliding against her folds, as you prepare her. “Do you need to cum first?” Your lips ghost against her skin. “Need you to be ready for me baby.” You say.

Natasha is lost in the pleasured feeling of the cock against her clit. Even through her panties, it's sending her reeling. Natasha nods just as your fingertips trace along the waistband of her underwear. “Leave them on?” You question, thrusting a bit harder causing Natasha to gasp as it sends shockwaves through her body. You angle your hips to have the head of the cock poke just slightly at her entrance. Not enough to breach but enough to promise what's to come. You duck your head, biting at the soft tissue of her breast, as you start a steady rhythm. It’s essentially dry humping. Though from the wet spot and the way her underwear sticks to the lips of her pussy there’s nothing dry about it. You lick at her nipple, teasing it with the tip of your tongue, as Natasha whimpers below you.

“You’re teasing,” Natasha says in between labored breaths.

“Teasing?” You question. You circle your hips, paying attention to what makes her moan, to pull the most pleasure out of her. Natasha comes with a long whimper as she stiffens underneath you. Her whole body stills even as her hips continue to search for that pleasure. “That’s so good, baby.” You release her nipple from your mouth with a pop. Natasha simply kisses you. She kisses your face and neck her hand slipping up to your chest to push you on your back.

You’re impatient but excited. You lie back against the pillows to make yourself comfortable. Natasha rids herself of her panties before she straddles you. She uses her pussy lips to grind against the toy. Her juices glisten with every swipe she does. When she decides that she’s ready, Natasha lifts up, taking the penis in her hand to direct it to her entrance. You can feel the weight of her against you as she sinks down onto it. She breathes through her nose. She closes her eyes in an effort not to come too quickly as she takes it all in.

From your angle it looks absolutely heaven-like. You can see her having a bit of trouble with the last inch so you place your thumb directly along her clit, providing tight circles that catch Natasha off guard as she takes the last inch.

“Good job, baby.” You praise. You never take your finger off her clit as she lifts her hips again. The sigh that leaves her lips is followed by an even louder moan as she drops down again. You let out your own moan at the sight of her. Natasha’s hand wraps at your wrist pulling you away to place them on her hips.

“Too fast,” She mutters. She doesn’t want to come too quickly. You nod, using your hands to guide her, as she finds what makes her feel good. In turn, it makes you feel good too. Natasha’s motions are quicker. Rougher. As she rides you with abandon. You set this pace this time. Up until this moment, she’s been in charge. Not anymore. You can tell she likes the change as you grip her hips, forcing her up and down, as you thrust into her. You’re thankful for the ab workouts you’ve taken as you thrust up.

“Fuck,” You say to yourself as your eyes travel to where you and Natasha meet. She looks so full like this. She’s spread open so wide, bouncing along your cock, her clit brushing against your pelvis. After a particularly hard thrust, Natasha crumbles, folding into herself, as she leans further down. Her lips are against your ear now, her moans louder, more brazen, as you fuck into her.

“Yes, baby, yes, fuck,” Natasha babbles into your ear. You make a bold move, raising your hand before slapping her left ass cheek. It gives a loud echo through the room just as Natasha clenches at the slight pain. You smack again harder this time and she cries out again. “Yes, yes, yes.” She sounds like a broken record as she sings your praises. One thing about Natasha. She has stamina. She could do this all day. Most days. Except now, it’s been so long since she had you like this and you’re fucking her so well and you’re not giving her a chance to recover as she climaxes around your cock. She’s seated upright again, her back arching, her nails digging into your forearms as she clenches around you. You follow her headfirst into your own orgasm, your hips increasing their thrusting into hers before you drop back down onto the mattress. Natasha falls along with you.

You rub against her back, pulling the cock out of her gently, before rubbing at her cheeks. They’re probably red from how many times you smacked them and you’d be hearing about it later. For now, it was worth it. Natasha lies down tiredly in your arms. She stretches her legs and curls into you.

“Good?’ You ask and she nods. She nuzzles her nose in your neck. “I’m not done with you.” You inform her and she nods again. She already knew. You’d give her five minutes and that’s all she could wait. When you promised her tonight you meant it. You reach for the water bottle on the nightstand. You crack it open and take long sips out of it. You pass it to Natasha who tiredly takes a long gulp.

When you feel both of you have recovered enough, you flip Natasha onto her back. Missionary. A simple position. Top tier if you do say so yourself. You get to see Natasha and all of her expressions of pleasure. You get to hold her down and make her take whatever you’re giving. Natasha helps you guide the cock to her entrance. Both of you share a breath as you press into her. You kiss her forehead, murmuring words of encouragement, as she takes every single inch.

“So damn tight,” You bend yourself slightly at the knees. Her hips wrapped around your waist, your hand on her thigh to keep her spread, as you hump into her. “You’re always so wet.” You mutter into her skin. “Are you going to let me fuck you all night?” You practically growl and Natasha simply nods her head. She’s too lost in the pleasure to give you anything of substance. This round is hard and fast. You don’t hold back as you pound into her. Your thrusts are sharp and short, causing her breasts to bounce with the force, as Natasha begins to whimper again. Her whimpers quickly turn into moans when you turn your attention to her neck to place another bite. Natasha gasps, arching her back, and you can feel things become a bit slicker as she floods your cock.

“Yes,” She manages to moan out. You sit up so that you can kiss her lips.

“Whose pussy is this?” You ask. You’re feeling bold. Probably something you both will laugh at later. For now, you need her to say it. "Whose is it?"

"Yours," She wheezes. She doesn't really know up or down right now.

You can feel that familiar coil in your stomach. You reach down between the two of you, making enough room to toy with her clit, as you want to come at the same time. You slam into her and this time Natasha practically screams.

“Oh fuck, yes, Daddy,” Natasha moans and you almost do a double take. She’s never called you that before. Suddenly that’s all you want to hear from her.

“Say it again,” You command, and Natasha’s eyes open just slightly to question. “Say it.” You thrust into her again and Natasha grips your forearms for purchase.

“Daddy,” Natasha cries and you practically come on the spot. You angle your hips again, gripping hers in your hand, as you thrust harder and harder and harder until Natasha reaches her peaks, and you fall quickly behind her. You know your grip will bruise later and you’ll apologize when the time comes. Instead, you squeeze the balls of the fake cock, making sure to keep your hips still, as it spills into Natasha in thick spurts. She is thrown into another small orgasm as her insides are painted with the sticky substance.

You kiss across her forehead, tapping at her hips again, and she loosens them as you pull out. You look down between the two of you, her pussy still pulsing, the fake semen dripping from her and onto the blanket. You take two of your fingers, sliding them through her core to collect the mixed fluids to bring to your mouth.

“Nat?” You question when her hips jump at the feel of your fingers. She’s sensitive and exhausted. You lean back, the cock bobbing in the air though you ignore it, as you help her take off the heels. Really you’re doing all the work and she lies there.

“Mhmm?” She responds without ever opening her eyes.

“This was the best present ever,” You say and she laughs. A full belly laugh that has you laughing too.

It was well worth the wait.

[ultra-violet-heart]

The story of a (soon-to-be) Princess Consort who uses her cruel husband's hands holding the sword to relieve the heat on her cheeks

(Image taken from manga illustrator Hinoki Kino's IG. It's kinda related to this short story.)

This is a bonus short story written by Touko Amekawa for the 7th Time Loop anime! I got the title from this post by Amekawa. It’s set on Rishe's 7th loop, and it's all about Arnold and Rishe... flirting in winter. Hehe.

Disclaimer: This translation is made by me for fandom purposes only. This unofficial translation is not affiliated with the official 7th Time Loop franchise. All rights reserved for 7th Time Loop to its respective committees, committee members, staff, author and rights holders.

The bonus short story can be found in Touko Amekawa's Notes blog, but as the entry is now deleted, she also reposted it in her Twitter/X account!

I’m posting my Ko-Fi here as currently, I’ve been having financial troubles, so if anyone can donate, I would be much grateful for the help, thank you very much.

"So in Galkhein, during the first month, a festival is held during the harsh winter in order to implore spring to come, isn't it?" As Rishe spoke in that manner, the pleasant sound of a writing pen then stopped.

As Arnold was busy on his desk with his official duties, he stared at Rishe, who was now seated on the chaise longue across him. This was where Rishe sat every time Arnold was at his office working on his official tasks.

(Images from the 7th Time Loop anime opening. Rishe isn't asleep in this story, though.)

"What are you reading, a book about official events being held in this country?"

"Yes! I borrowed it for my studies, and I find this book well-written and very interesting!"

Arnold's attendant, Oliver, was very quick at his duties, and whenever he saw Rishe showing even a hint of concern [on something], he would immediately make prompt arrangements.

When she thanked him for giving her the book, Oliver smiled naturally and said, "My Lord ordered me to immediately give you anything you want, Lady Rishe."

"When a country can hold a large-scale festival like this in winter, it's evidence of how prosperous this country is. It's fantastic."

The sound of cicadas and the summer breeze blowing through open windows. The view seen through the window would was really beautiful, even in spring and summer.

Just imagining the view in Galkhein's autumn and winter was enough to make one's heart leap in anticipation.

Though before that, there were things she needed to check, it seemed.

"During the festival, are there any public duties you, Your Highness, and I need to perform?"

"Don't worry, there isn't any need for that. ―――――And if there is, we don't need to participate."

"Great! It's a relief we won't be doing any exhausting work there." Relief now gave way to increasing anticipation. "Then, Prince Arnold! What kind of food stalls would you like for us to go to?"

"……?"

Arnold then wore a slightly suspicious look, so she continued to add. "If we don't think carefully the order of the food stalls we're visiting, we might get too full in no time. I want to check out all the stores you might think of visiting, Prince Arnold, so I must plan this efficiently!"

"........."

"Since we're going there in secret, why don't we buy new cloaks for the festival? It will be fun if you and I get cloaks of matching design, Your Highness!"

While the color of Arnold's eyes and hair were very distinct, the opposite went for Rishe, [with her eye and hair colors] being pale. Them already standing side by side made them quite a pair, so if they wore matching garments, it would be interesting to see.

"It's written on this book that many restaurants offer special menus during the festival! Like that restaurant you and I went to on our secret trip the other day, Your Highness. The food there was so delicious, by all means, I want to go there again during the festival!"

"......Well, if you don't mind."

"Thank you very much! Is there any place you want to go to, Your Highness? I'm happy to accompany you there, together......"

"........."

"Prince Arnold?"

As he expressionlessly stared at her, Rishe tilted her head, puzzled. Arnold then said something.

"You really don't have hesitation."

"Hesitation?"

Arnold stood, walked to the chaise longue where Rishe sat, then sat down besides her.

"―――Within you."

Arnold's sea-blue eyes focused on Rishe.

Rishe's face was reflected on his eyes as he blinked.

Arnold gave her a soft gaze, his fingers playfully running through her coral hair.

"You spending time with me like this will be a natural future."

"~~~~…...?!"

As he pointed it out, she felt her cheeks warm immediately. "B-b-but, that is...!"

"'That is'?"

As she tried to object, she became embarrassed of her unconscious assumption.

Of course, it was natural Arnold was there with her in the festival scene she imagined.

(Simply put, I want to be with him there, but if this continues, His Highness might find that out......!)

Averting herself from Arnold's gaze, Rishe managed to reply.

".....By the first month, when winter arrives, we will be an officially married couple......"

Why did she feel too much embarrassed after saying such an obvious thing?

(I-I don't think I can fool him at all......!)

To cool her flushed cheeks, she took Arnold's hands while he was still caressing her hair gently.

Pressing his hands against her cheeks felt cool and comfortable.

".....Rishe."

"Ugh......"

Believing that Arnold's cold hands would cool her burning cheeks somewhat, she barely manged to utter an excuse.

"From now, I-I'm looking forward to winter! Festivals... I love festivals!"

"......I see."

Would Arnold's hands get colder in the winter?

She was worried now that his fingers might get frozen while he was holding a sword.

Rishe hoped to give Arnold a pair of gloves way before the winter festival arrived.

As she got distracted by such thoughts, it took her a few seconds to realize how embarassing it was for Arnold's hands to be pressed on her cheeks.

[icallhimjoey]

Lost & Found

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader     Summary: You take a little break, a week away to somewhere warm to relax and calm your senses. So does Joe – same flight, same hotel, same travel plans and, worst of all, same suitcase. What was meant to be a lovely trip to the sun starts off on the wrong foot when you find expensive designer outfits belonging to a man in what you thought was your suitcase.     CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, lots of swearing, we get a little spicy but nothing too bad, 18+ just in case though!     Author’s note: I asked for requests and then used 0 of them – sorry – this is one of those things that started in a whatsapp chat and started living its own life fairly quickly. Wasn't meant to become a five-parter but, big sigh, here we are... I hope you enjoy this first part!    Wordcount: 3.4K  

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Of course. Of fucking course.  

Something always had to go fucking wrong, didn’t it? Couldn’t just be smooth fucking sailing for once, could it?    

Jesus fucking Christ.  

Joe massaged his temples as he let his breath escape through flared nostrils.   

Typical.  

He’s just flung his suitcase onto the bed, ready to charge what needed charging and to change what needed changing. The heavy bounce of it should’ve told him something was off.  

That wasn’t his. 

It wasn't his suitcase that he'd just flung onto his hotel bed.   

It looked enough like it, but his three-digit code didn't unlock it, and upon closer inspection, this one had a lot of marks on it that suggested it had been used a lot more and for a lot longer.    

Not his suitcase.  

Same brand. Same colour. Same model. Not his.  

He'd taken the wrong suitcase. Like the day hadn't been long enough already.  

The warm breeze had felt glorious when he'd stepped off the plane, the temperature balmy enough to really make him feel the difference when walked down the stairs onto the tarmac. The sun had been out, and he'd felt how it immediately relaxed his shoulders. It was exactly what he needed, why he even booked the trip in the first place, he thought, slipping his sunglasses down from the top of his head onto his nose.  

Sun. Warmth from up above that clung in the air that surrounded him.  

Was nice.

Lovely.

He'd gotten what he'd thought was his suitcase from the conveyer belt no problem, finding it quickly. Then it only took a minute to wait for a taxi that took him to his hotel. He'd booked a room in the kind of place you didn't need to leave at all if you didn't really want to – nice hotel restaurant downstairs, nice hotel rooftop bar upstairs, big pool surrounded by sun loungers outside and a view of the beach just behind it. Not quite a resort, but, kind of a resort, if you asked his mum. 

It was exactly what he'd needed. A few days away from the hustle and bustle of daily-life-sludge Joe felt he'd had a hard time wading through. Just a quick break to get his sun-starved skin some much needed vitamin D. Make the freckles that hid underneath his skin show up. It was the time of year when temperatures dropped fairly quickly once the sun went down, but the days were gorgeous still. The type of hot where you could sit in direct sunlight in the middle of the day without feeling like you were melting but still get tanned all over.  

Joe should've felt lucky, because that was what he'd been announcing to the world a lot lately. "I feel very lucky," over and over until it caught up with him.  

"Quick few days away will sort you out," his mum had told him over the phone, and mother's always knew best, didn't they?

So he'd just gone and booked it. Went, fuck it, this looks nice, I want to go there.

And now he was here.

He had five full days all to himself, travel days not included, in which he’d get to truly switch off a second. Enough time to listen to his favourite podcast for however long he wanted without being interrupted halfway through an episode. Enough time to finally get past page five of this book he’d started reading three times already. Enough time to work through his inbox at a leisurely pace. Have whichever drink whenever.   

Joe was meant to feel all lucky.   

It was just that... he'd just flung a suitcase onto his hotel bed that wasn't his, and... now what? The good bits felt all fucked up, the positive twisted, leaving him with just the negative frustrating shit. 

Trip fucking ruined already, and he'd not even been there two hours. 

All he had on him were his passport, his phone, a pair of wireless headphones that were running low on battery and his bank cards. He'd foregone bringing a backpack as carry-on, checking in his suitcase, and feeling very free as he'd walked through the TSA screening with barely anything on him.   

Now he regretted every single decision he'd made that lead up to this moment.   

Unbeknownst to him, you were just two floors up, in the same hotel, in a room that looked identical, also stood by your hotel bed. Difference was, you'd just opened what you thought was your suitcase, only to be met by a bunch of stuff that wasn't yours.   

You didn't own anything pinstriped. Or, um, Dior.  

You checked the code that you hadn't changed to open it – that wasn't what you'd set it as.   

That wasn't your suitcase.   

“Um, what the fuck?”  

Whoever the suitcase belonged to had shut it but then hadn't run a thumb over the numbered wheels to make sure anyone without the right combination couldn't open it – an idiot, you thought.   

And idiot with... very expensive clothes. Men's clothes.   

For a moment far too long, you just looked at what was in front of you and processed what this meant.

You didn’t have your things.

Your stuff.

No dress to slip into. No bikini to wear underneath.

Shit.

You'd have to phone the airline, let them know you'd taken the wrong suitcase. Yours had probably been brought over to lost and found, the owner of this one probably hoping his would be there too. Except it wasn't. It was a 40-minute taxi ride removed from lost and found, up on the 11th floor of a nice beach hotel. With you.  

Shit.   

You looked down at your own top, the stains from the bottle of coke that had sprayed everywhere upon the first cap-twist still evident.   

Fuck.  

This first evening you'd booked a table downstairs for dinner, and then were planning on having drinks upstairs to really make sure you'd knock yourself out cold until at least 10.30am the next morning.   

You threw an arm up and smelled an armpit.  

Rank.

Yea, no way you were going to do those things in the outfit you currently had on.   

"Hi, I have a question regarding baggage claim? Is there a service agent I can talk to? It appears I have taken the wrong suitcase by accident."  

Joe sighed as he got put on hold for a minute, only to be told later to please return the suitcase to baggage claim. He hoped they'd be able to give him any other information that didn't involve him traveling back there. Also, maybe a little info on whether or not his suitcase had been left behind and was now in lost and found, or if someone else had taken it.   

"Please find the baggage claim customer service desk, and we'll be able to help you locate your luggage from there."   

All right. Fine.   

Was he going to do that tonight? After just getting to the hotel, now hungry and tired and in need of some good food and a good night's sleep?  

No.  

Probably not the nicest thing, since, you know, someone else was likely also trying to track down what he was storing in his hotel room right now, but Joe had a dinner reservation for one he wanted to get to. Had scanned the menu online beforehand and was craving the steak tartare now. It just sucked he was going to have that in the same outfit he'd worn traveling there, as well as the rest of the night and the next morning.   

Deep breaths, Joe. Big gulps of air. Take a step back. Zoom out a little.

In the grand scheme of things... this was just annoying. Not the end of the world.

He'd fetch a spare charger for his phone from the front desk, have his meal, have a nice drink, and do his very best not to think about all the things that frustrated him for the rest of the night.  

But, that was easier said that done.  

Especially when, halfway through dinner, a pretty girl walked in wearing what looked suspiciously similar to one of his shirts.

Nah.   

Couldn't be.  

He was probably just seeing things. Was just looking because she was pretty. Was too tired. Had one drink too many.

Was grumpy about the fact that the only charger the hotel had for him didn't fit the outlets here, and they didn't have a plug adapter for him to make it work.   

Was more grumpy about the fact that you'd sat down in his direct line of sight. You know, since he couldn't just burrow himself into his phone for fear of the battery dying on him.   

Was most grumpy that the shirt looked better on you than it did on him.  

For fuck's sake.  

And he wasn't even sure if he even packed that shirt at all! 

For his own sanity, he convinced himself he didn’t pack it.  

Lots of people had shirts like it. Faded orangey colour. Striped. The one he owned probably wasn't quite as pink as this one. Or maybe it was... but, even so, it could be the exact same one, still didn’t need to be his. 

It was a little more difficult however, when upstairs at the bar, after the first sip of his gin martini, he saw you walk out in a jacket that he knew for a fact he’d packed.  

That was his jacket.

Stop it, Joe thought. You've gone mad.

Just a coincidence.

Big coincidence, though... wasn't it?

“you’ve overworked me, i should get another week” he texted his agent, blaming the fact that he was seeing things on that, and received a “lol no” in return.  

Joe was still annoyed the next morning when he climbed into a taxi, phone about to die any second now.

Had you been out the door about twenty seconds earlier, you'd have run into him.

Somehow, traffic turned the twenty seconds into over ten minutes. Joe was already standing by the baggage claim service desk, your suitcase on the floor next to him, patiently waiting as the lady behind the computer typed away with eyes stuck to a computer screen Joe couldn't see. 

You walked up, eyes on your phone, occasionally looking up for signs that pointed you in the right direction. You didn't even notice Joe, or your suitcase on the floor next to him. 

"At airport now, fingers crossed" you texted a friend, and got a quick, "it's there, it's GOT TO BE there" from her in response. It wasn't until the guy in front of you turned around, gave you a polite smile, and then did a double take for you to see it. 

Your suitcase.

"My suitcase!" 

"My jacket."

Oh.

Oh, fuck. 

You were standing in front of the guy whose suitcase you'd gone through the night before. Whose suitcase you did your best to pack so it didn't look like you'd gone through every single thing that was in there. Whose pinstriped jacket you'd thrown on because it was the morning still, a little chilly for... just his T-shirt that you wore underneath. 

You immediately forgot how to function as a normal humanbeing. 

Error 404: cognitive function not found.

"Um, I–I..." you faltered, blood heating your cheeks, and you saw how the brow of stranger in front of you slowly furrowed as his eyes scanned down your body. 

Fuck. 

Now, you see, in your defence... you were left to your own devices, just, all alone in a hotel room, unsupervised, with a suitcase that was full of special, unknown things. Lots of treasures and, expensive designer clothing... how was anyone to expect you to be sensible and not snoop? 

Of course you were going to be snooping.

You snooped.

Were a tried-and-true snooper.

It was just that... you hadn't just snooped, had you? 

Hadn't just let your eyes roam. 

You'd gotten your hands in there almost instantly. 

You'd called a friend, and explained your situation, and had then switched the regular call to Facetime to go through the whole thing together. Toiletry bag and all. Every single item had passed your grip, and you'd tried on more items than you dared admitting to anyone – the boyfriend-fit of every single item had made you consider maybe just... keeping a shirt.

"Fuck me, that looks good on you. Keep it." your friend only egged you on.

"I can't keep it," you said, checking yourself in the mirror before asking your friend to google for prices, wanting to know how much this had cost the owner of the suitcase.

When she told you, you took a moment to let that sink in before you said, "Yea, maybe I should keep it."

That jacket, or perhaps the one pair of jeans. Claim you'd just found the suitcase like that. He'd left it unlocked, anyway.

"Look at this, this... this is clearly someone on a business trip, there's suits, but then, look, he's got two-in-one shampoo and conditioner in his toiletry bag," you held up the bottle close enough to your perched up phone to show it properly. 

"Who takes shampoo on a business trip? Surely you just use whatever they have at the hotel?" your friend made a good point. 

"Especially two-in-fucking-one," you tossed the bottle onto your bed, next to all the other shit you were fishing out. Razor, nail clippers, a moisturizer of which you didn't even recognise the brand - very fancy.

"Men are insane,"

"Even the rich ones, apparently," 

"Especially the rich ones."

It'd been a good half hour of giggles before you'd decided you were just going to wear one of his shirts to dinner. Why not? You could fold it up nicer than the way you'd found it in there. You'd be fine.

He just... he wasn't meant to actually see you in his clothes. You were wearing literal proof of what you were desperately wanting to hide.

How were you going to talk yourself out of this? 

Were you just going to be honest? 

Look at him.

Of course you weren't going to be honest. This man would've made you nervous even if you hadn't shown up in his literal clothes, revealing you'd not just opened the suitcase to see it wasn't yours - you'd gone through it and were now wearing what was his.  

"Oh, excellent!" the lady behind the desk stood up and peered over the desk at the floor, at the two similar suitcases. "This will be a lot easier now," she stepped around with a little scanning device, scanned both labels that you, thank God, both hadn't touched. Imagine if you'd have ripped that off. You'd no idea what that would've meant, but surely it would have made the whole situation a lot more complicated. 

You were contemplating pretending to be crazy. Or stupid. Just really, really, really stupid. 

Shut the fuck up why did he not stop staring at you? Could he look away for just a second, maybe? 

"I didn't mean to– I only opened it this morning, I didn't have anything to we–" you rambled, stumbled through little white lies and stopped when you saw the faintest little hint of amusement on Joe's face.

"Are you going to sue me?" you winced.

"No," his smile grew, but he held out a hand. For the jacket, you presumed. 

"There, all settled." the baggage claim service agent smiled. "This one is yours, and this one is yours." 

"Thank you," Joe smiled at her – she'd done her job. You saw it was just him being polite before his attention turned back to you.

"Um, I won't sue you. But I would like my clothes back..." his hand was still there and you realised that you fully understood the body language, but hadn't actually moved to take it off yet. 

"Yes, of course! Sorry, I was– the plan was that I'd fetch my own suitcase from lost and found and then would change into my own stuff, and–" you squeezed your eyes shut, letting the jacket slide from your shoulders, knowing that you sounded absolutely insane. "You weren't meant to find out." you huffed a laugh, hoping that finding humour in the situation would make him copy it.

"Not exactly a water proof plan," Joe gave you a nod and looked at you a little apprehensively, head tilted down, as you handed over the jacket that he folded over his forearm.

"Well, had you not been here yet, I would've gotten off scot-free," you joked lightly, confidence creeping in a little as you raised your eyebrows at him just before kneeling down next to your suitcase and tipping it onto its side to open it.

"Ah," Joe nodded, all understanding, but his face quickly twisted in exaggerated confusion. "So... that wasn't you in my shirt last night?" 

Your neck cracked with how fast it snapped to look back up at him. Deer in headlights, eyes wide in shock, blush deepening. Had you ever felt sweat prickling in your pits before? 

"I–"

"And red jacket?"

Fucking fuck shit. You were such a fucking idiot.

"Red?" you focussed entirely on the wrong thing, but, what else was there to do in a panic? "No, t'was more of a brownish sort of–"

"Burgundy." Joe cut you off.

You looked at each other for a long moment where it took you a smidge too long to close the mouth you'd left hanging open.

My God.

You'd really worked yourself into a corner here, hadn't you?

"Is that... is that my T-shirt?" 

It got worse fast, though.

You looked down to see for yourself, eyes still huge, and for what? To check if you were still wearing the black T-shirt? You knew you were wearing his T-shirt. It was why you'd opened your suitcase in the first place, to fetch something of your own to change into. To take into a toilet stall so you could give him back what belonged to him, and if you were quick, give it back without pit stains. 

When you looked back up, you felt how the blush was now making your neck and chest break out in hives. There really wasn't a way out of this. Caught red-handed, you had no other choice but to surrender and admit to every single wrong choice you'd made. Not willing to speak the actual confession into existence, you let your arms move on their own accord and just... moved to take the T-shirt off. One of your arms disappeared into the T-shirt, out of the sleeve, and you were about to pull the whole thing over your head when you were stopped.

"No– no, stop, don't–" he laughed. Planted a hand on your shoulder – the one of which the arm was stuck inside the T-shirt now.  

You stopped, listening to his instructions from your kneeled position on the floor. 

Joe wasn't going to let you undress into just your bra in the middle of an airport. This was a weird beginning to his trip but, was it really that bad? He'd gotten his suitcase back. That was what he'd wished for ever since finding out he'd taken the wrong one, and now, it had been returned to him.

He'd gotten what he'd wished for.

So what if a pretty girl borrowed some of his clothes for a second? It probably only meant that some of it smelled nicer now. She looked like she felt bad enough about it, too.

No big deal.

"Are we staying at the same hotel?"

"I... I think so?" you sat unmoved.

"If you could leave that at the front desk, I'll just... it's fine, I'll pick it up there," the frown that graced this man's features earlier seemingly had been sarcastic. Or, he'd just turned friendly. Either way, everything about his face told you not to worry about it.

Well, tough. Fuck him. You were worrying. This was so awkward. 

You very slowly moved your arm back into the sleeve of the T-shirt and then moved to close your suitcase. 

"Okay," your voice had never sounded thicker with hesitation.

"Okay?" Joe laughed.

"Yea," you sighed. "Yea, all right. I'm sorry." you winced as you clicked your suitcase shut and got back up onto your feet.

"It's fine." Joe waved a hand, dismissing the whole thing. You thought that was just to make you feel more comfortable, because you were very clearly going through it. For good reason. Had you been in his shoes, you would've told yourself off for the shit you'd pulled.

"Looks better on you, anyway," 

And like you weren't red in the face enough already, the snort laugh that escaped you turned you purple whilst simultaneously breaking any and all tension.

---

The Taglisted

@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddie-joe-munson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frogers, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @ohmeg, @paola-carter, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thefemininemystiquee, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @yelyahcardella

taglist currently full, sorry