#-then its okay i'll step aside'

[drunkonimagination]

they mean so much to me

[unabashegirl]

Echo — Dr. Styles

Harry is a cardiothoracic surgeon and Aurora is just one of his students...

Author's note: Hello everyone, this one shot has been posted a long time on Patreon. I'm finally happy to release it for all of my Tumblr followers. I hope you enjoy it. It's quite long so happy reading!

check out my patreon and get access to more :)

word count: 7.5K

masterlist

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The operating room hummed with a symphony of beeping monitors and the steady rush of air from vents. He stood at the center, surrounded by a team of skilled medical professionals, each playing their part in the delicate dance of a heart transplant.

Dressed in his scrubs, His focus was unwavering as he gazed down at the patient lying before him. The heart monitor beeped steadily, a reassuring rhythm amidst the controlled chaos of the surgery.

"Scalpel," He called out, his voice calm yet commanding. A nurse placed the tool in his outstretched hand, and with practiced precision, he made the first incision.

The room seemed to hold its breath as Harry worked, his movements sure and steady. The transplant was a delicate procedure, requiring absolute precision and unwavering focus.

As he meticulously dissected the damaged heart from the surrounding tissues, Harry's mind was a whirlwind of calculations and decisions. Every cut, every stitch, held the patient's life in the balance.

"Alright, let me have a retractor," he requested, his eyes never leaving the task at hand. A nurse handed him the instrument, and he gently maneuvered the tissues aside, revealing the beating heart beneath.

The sight never failed to awe Harry, even after years of performing surgeries. The human heart, a marvel of nature, beating with the rhythm of life itself.

With a sense of reverence, he reached for the donor heart, carefully preserved in a chilled solution nearby. As he lifted it into place, a collective breath seemed to fill the room.

"Clamp," The doctor instructed, and the new heart was secured in its rightful place. With meticulous care, he began to stitch the arteries and veins, connecting the life-giving vessels of the new heart to those of the patient.

Time seemed to both stand still and fly by in the OR. Each stitch, each suture, brought the transplant closer to completion. The team around he moved with practiced efficiency, a well-oiled machine working in perfect harmony. After six hours of standing with no breaks, he stepped back. The heart transplant was a success.

The room seemed to exhale as the monitors beeped steadily, the sound a comforting reassurance of the patient's stable condition.

"Get him to the ICU and keep me updated every hour," the surgeon instructed his intern firmly. "Stitch him up," he commanded, swiftly removing his disposable gown and gloves.

"Dr. Styles? Should I inform his wife and family? What should I say to them?" the intern asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

"No, I'll take care of it. Thank you, everyone," Dr. Harry Styles replied, his voice steady and reassuring, before exiting the operating room.

As Harry stepped out of the operating room, the weight of the surgery lingered in the air around him. The hushed tones of the hospital corridor offered a stark contrast to the controlled chaos of the OR.

With a purposeful stride, he made his way to the waiting area where the patient's family anxiously awaited news. The sense of anticipation was palpable, the air heavy with worry and hope.

The patient's wife sat on the edge of her seat, her eyes red-rimmed from hours of anxious waiting. As she caught sight of Harry approaching, her heart leaped into her throat.

"Dr. Styles," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "How is he? Is he going to be okay?”

Harry paused before her, his gaze gentle yet unwavering. "Your husband is out of surgery," he began, his voice steady. "The transplant was successful, but he's still in a critical condition. We'll be monitoring him closely in the ICU."

Tears welled up in the wife's eyes, a mix of relief and fear washing over her. "Can I see him? Can I be with him?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry nodded, "Of course. He's being prepared for transfer to the ICU now. You'll be able to see him soon. Now it's a matter of time and his body's response to the new heart. I’ll go check on him in a few hours. Excuse me” He gave her a small smile before disappearing down the corridor to complete charting and also get to a meeting with the attendings and the chief.

Morning," Harry greeted as he stepped into the conference room, juggling his charts and a cold brew he'd snagged from the coffee shop outside.

"How'd the surgery go?" Niall, the attending for emergencies, inquired as Harry settled in beside him.

"Alright," Harry shrugged, already engrossed in his notes. "What's this meeting about?"

Harry and Niall had struck up a friendship recently. Niall was a natural conversationalist, known for his boisterous laughter and infectious smiles. In contrast, Harry tended to keep to himself, often lost in his thoughts.

"It's about the new surgical interns starting today," the doctor seated across from Niall shared, catching Harry's attention. He frowned, already dreading the inevitable chaos that came with the arrival of new interns. Teaching was never his favorite part of the job, but he endured it for the greater good.

"Oh, I'm excited!" Niall beamed, a glimmer of enthusiasm in his eyes that Harry couldn't quite match. He knew Niall's fondness for charming the new interns, often leading to more than just professional relationships.

"Morning," the chief greeted as he entered the room, his presence commanding attention. In his mid-sixties, the chief had hired Harry, yet their interactions remained minimal. Harry preferred it that way; he kept his circle small, especially in a place where boundaries could easily blur.

"This will be a quick meeting about the incoming interns and the duties and expectations for the next few weeks," the chief explained, setting the tone for the discussion.

Harry listened attentively as the chief outlined the responsibilities and expectations for the upcoming weeks with the new surgical interns. His gaze wandered around the room, noting the varied reactions of his colleagues.

Niall seemed positively thrilled, nodding along eagerly and already making mental notes about which interns he would be taking under his wing. Harry couldn't help but shake his head at his friend's predictable enthusiasm for the new arrivals.

On the other side of the room, Dr. Patel sat with a look of quiet determination, her focus unwavering as she absorbed every detail of the chief's instructions. Harry respected her dedication and work ethic, knowing that she would undoubtedly excel in guiding the interns. She was one of the most famous gastroenterologist surgeons in the hospital.

As the meeting progressed, Harry found himself growing more apprehensive about the impending arrival of the interns. The first few weeks were always a whirlwind of orientation, training sessions, and long hours in the OR. He knew it would test his patience and ability to teach effectively.

"Any questions?" the chief asked, bringing Harry's attention back to the present.

Harry glanced around the room, noting the silence that followed. He cleared his throat, deciding to speak up. "Just to clarify, are we each assigned specific interns to mentor, or is it more of a collective effort?"

The chief nodded, addressing Harry's question. "We have a list of assigned mentors for each intern, but I encourage all attending physicians to participate in their training and offer guidance when needed."

he chief distributed the lists of mentors to each of the attending physicians. Harry glanced down at his list and noted that he had five interns assigned to him, the majority of whom were male. It brought a slight sense of relief, knowing he might have more common ground for discussion with them, than with the female ones.

"They should be up in a few hours. They are getting introduced to their residents and the program before they're sent your way," the chief informed the group. "That will be all. Have a good day."

With that, the meeting was adjourned, and the attendings began to gather their things and prepare for the arrival of the new interns. Harry folded his list neatly and tucked it into his pocket.

After attending to some of his post-op patients, Harry returned to his rounds before a page from Camille, one of the cardiology residents, summoned him to the cardiology wing. He knew exactly what that meant – it was time to meet the new interns.

"Doctor Styles! There you are," Camille exclaimed, waving him over as he entered the room. Before him stood a group of about twenty eager faces, all eyes on him. "This is Dr. Styles, one of the leaders in our cardiac surgery program. Any decisions made here will be run through him first."

"Good morning, everyone," Harry greeted, offering a warm smile to the group. "Congratulations on being accepted into the program. It goes without saying that this will be a demanding journey, but I hope it proves to be fulfilling for each of you. I'll be mentoring a few of you directly, but please know that I'm always available for questions or guidance."

"Any questions for Dr. Styles?" Camille interjected before Harry could slip away.

One voice rose from the group, breaking the brief silence. "About the mentoring. How does it work?" the inquiry came.

"Is that you, Knight?" Camille scanned the crowd until her eyes landed on Aurora, who stepped forward, no longer hiding behind a taller colleague. "Yes," Aurora confirmed, her voice steady. "I'm just wondering when we'll find out who our mentors are and when we should meet with them?"

"We don't have a set schedule for that," Camille replied, turning to Harry for confirmation. He nodded in agreement before she continued. "It usually happens when you and the attending find a bit of time between their duties and cases. As for when your mentors will be revealed, they will progressively become known as we introduce you to the rest of the attendings," Camille explained. She then turned to Harry. "Dr. Styles, do you have your list?”

"Right," Harry acknowledged, reaching into his pocket to retrieve the list. Unfolding it, he scanned the names before finding the one he was looking for. "And Aurora Knight," he announced.

"There you go," Camille said with a smile. "Thank you for your time, Dr. Styles. We'll see you in a bit."

Aurora Knight had always been sharp, bright, and endlessly curious, but above all, she was remarkably disciplined. So, when the time arrived to select a career path, her parents were taken aback by her choice of medicine. Aurora's unwavering discipline had guided her through many challenges, yet the surgical program posed an entirely new and demanding playing field.

At 27 years old, Aurora Knight was a striking figure with her long, tousled blonde hair framing her face. Her hazel eyes sparkled with intelligence and a hint of mischief, reflecting her sharp wit and curious nature. Despite her petite stature, there was an undeniable presence about her, an aura of confidence and determination that seemed to radiate from within. With a warm smile that could light up a room, Aurora carried herself with a grace.

"We'll be dividing into groups now," Camille announced, her voice carrying over the bustling activity of the surgical wing. "Each group will be assigned a new case, with an attending and resident in charge. Please listen to your resident and attending," she emphasized, gesturing for the interns to pay attention.

Aurora listened attentively as Camille began calling out last names, assigning each intern to their respective groups. As the names were called, excitement buzzed through the room, mingled with a touch of nervous energy.

"I hope I get to be with Dr. Styles," Aurora heard a voice beside her murmur. She couldn't help but smile at the comment, the sentiment echoing her own thoughts about the charming head of the cardiac surgery program.

Aurora kept her gaze fixed on the floor, not bothering to glance up at the others around her. Despite her outward confidence, it was all a facade. In truth, she was more of an introvert, often finding solace in the quiet moments of reflection.

However, being reserved didn't mean she was blind. She couldn't help but admire his striking features from the corner of her eye.

"Knight," Camille's voice finally broke through her thoughts, and Aurora looked up to see Camille pointing to a group of five. She was the last to be called, completing the group.

"You five will be heading down to the emergency room," Camille commanded, her voice firm. "You do remember where it is, right?" All five of them nodded in response. Aurora, however, couldn't recall, but she still nodded, not wanting to risk embarrassing herself and standing out.

The group of interns began to make their way downstairs in silence. None of them knew each other, but circumstances had brought them together on this task.

"Does anyone actually know where it is?" one of the men finally broke the silence, voicing the question that had likely been on all their minds.

The question hung in the air for a moment before Aurora spoke up, her voice steady despite the slight nervous flutter in her stomach. "I'm not entirely sure," she admitted, her hazel eyes meeting the gaze of her fellow interns.

The man who had asked the question nodded in understanding, a small smile playing on his lips. "I guess we’ll figure it out all together" he reassured, his tone friendly. “I am Milo”

“Aurora” She shook her hand.

The group continued down the corridors of the hospital, following the signs that pointed toward the emergency room. As they walked, conversation began to flow more freely, the initial awkwardness of being strangers starting to fade.

Aurora found herself drawn into the discussions, her curiosity piqued as she listened to her new colleagues share their experiences and aspirations. Despite the nerves that still lingered in the back of her mind, she couldn't deny the sense of camaraderie that was beginning to form among them.

Soon, they reached the bustling entrance of the emergency room, the controlled chaos of medical staff and patients filling the space. Camille had mentioned they would be assisting with a new case, and Aurora felt a surge of anticipation mingled with a touch of apprehension.

"We should check in with the attending," one of the interns suggested, breaking the silence that had fallen over the group as they took in the scene before them.

Aurora nodded in agreement, the group moving towards the attending physician who was overseeing the ER that day.

They stood awkwardly a few feet away from Niall as he diligently checked over some charts and finished a note on a patient. All five of them glanced at each other, silently urging someone to muster the courage to approach.

Eventually, Niall felt the weight of their glances on him and spoke up without looking up from his work. "I won't bite," he said, trying to ease the tension. “He is in there”

Just as they were about to make a move, the voice of Dr. Styles boomed through the room. "About time! Where the bloody hell have you been?!" he yelled, the urgency evident in his tone.

The interns hurried into the room, where they found Dr. Styles performing CPR on an unconscious patient. "What are you doing? Get in here!" he commanded, his voice urgent as he gestured for them to join him.

Aurora struggled to maintain focus, but it was nearly impossible not to be captivated by Dr. Styles' striking appearance as he fought to save a life. The muscles beneath his uniform strained with effort, his hair falling in disarray as he applied pressure. Despite his intense concentration, a furrowed brow revealed his determination to revive the patient. Suddenly, his commanding voice snapped her out of her reverie.

Without hesitation, she reached for a pair of gloves and swiftly approached the table.

"Let's get an EKG on him, Dr. Knight. You know how to do that, right? Or do I have to draw it for you?" Harry's voice cut through the urgency of the moment. Aurora nodded, her focus already on the task at hand. She began placing the electrodes on the patient's chest, each one carefully positioned. She ignored his harsh comment doubting her abilities.

"You, intubate him," Harry's next command came without pause as he assessed the patient's vitals.

Milo, one of the other interns, tried to not hesitate. He moved to the head of the bed, positioning himself to intubate the man efficiently.

"He's still bradycardic," Aurora muttered to herself, her eyes scanning the monitors as the rest of the team worked swiftly around the patient. Aurora looked down at her shoes and noticed the blood that was pooling under the stretcher. " he's bleeding from somewhere," she added, her gaze shifting to the man's sides.

"Can we roll him over?" Aurora looked up, meeting Harry's gaze with determination.

Harry nodded in agreement, quickly commanding the nurses to assist.

"I'll help," Autumn, another intern, offered, stepping forward to join Aurora.

Together, they carefully maneuvered the patient onto his side, revealing the source of the bleeding. There, in the fourth intercostal space, was a large and ominous laceration. The sight sent a jolt of urgency through the team as they assessed the severity of the injury and prepared to take swift action.

As the patient's vital signs continued to plummet, Harry's urgency grew palpable. "Dr. Madden, were you able to intubate?" he pressed, his gaze fixed on the worsening situation.

"Just give me a second," Dr. Madden muttered, his focus intent on getting a clear view of the vocal cords.

"We don't have a second, Dr. Madden. Did you do it or not?!" Harry's voice rose with frustration as Aurora and Autumn applied pressure to the wound. "Dr. Madden!"

"I-I..." Dr. Madden hesitated, faltering under the pressure of the tense situation.

Harry wasted no time. With decisive action, he stepped in and pushed Dr. Madden aside, taking control of the intubation process himself. In a matter of moments, the patient was successfully intubated, the urgency of the situation leaving no room for hesitation.

"Let's get him to the operating room," Harry declared, his voice commanding as the team mobilized to move the patient to the next phase of treatment.

The tension in the room was palpable as the chaos of the moment began to subside. It felt as though a storm had swept through, leaving behind an eerie calmness in its wake. All five interns remained rooted to their spots, their expressions a mixture of shock and disbelief.

"He absolutely despises us," Autumn broke the silence, her voice tinged with frustration as she began to remove her gloves.

"Speak for yourself. He hates me," Milo sighed, his tone resigned. "I just couldn't get a clear view."

"At least he didn't offer to draw it out for you," Aurora quipped, attempting to inject a bit of levity into the tense atmosphere. The others chuckled nervously, their laughter quickly fading as they realized Harry had come back into the room.

Aurora, unaware of his presence behind her, continued to face away, while Autumn's eyes widened in apprehension. The realization dawned on them that their mentor had witnessed their candid conversation, adding another layer of tension to the already fraught situation.

"As soon as you're changed, I'll meet you all in the operating room," Harry announced, his pager interrupting the moment. Once the door closed behind him, a collective sigh of relief filled the room.

"Shit," Aurora thought to herself, the weight of the situation settling heavily on her shoulders.

"Good morning, everyone," Harry greeted as he entered the operating room. Aurora lingered in the back, blending into the crowd, attempting to mask her rising anxiety. Despite her efforts, she couldn't shake the nagging fear that Harry might use her comment to have her expelled from the program.

As Harry began to address the team, Aurora's heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing with worry. She had worked tirelessly to earn her place in the program, but one wrong move, one mistake, and it could all be taken away.

She watched as Harry moved about the room with confidence, his presence commanding attention from everyone present. His expertise was undeniable, his reputation as a skilled surgeon preceding him.

Aurora couldn't help but feel a pang of inadequacy as she compared herself to him. She was still learning, still finding her footing in the high-pressure environment of the operating room. The thought of disappointing him, of failing to meet his expectations, filled her with dread.

As the surgery got underway, Aurora focused on her tasks, trying to block out the persistent voice of doubt in her mind. She knew she had to prove herself, to show Harry and the rest of the team that she was capable, that she belonged here.

But with each passing moment, the weight of her anxiety grew heavier, threatening to overwhelm her. She couldn't afford to make a mistake, not now, not when so much was at stake.

"Dr. Knight," he called out, his voice cutting through her reverie. "Could you come here and hold the retractor?"

Aurora quietly extricated herself from the crowd, making her way to the table. With the assistance of a nurse, she put on gloves and a gown before positioning herself at the table.

"Here," he said, his hand extending the instrument towards her.

Their fingers brushed briefly as she accepted the tool. She couldn't help but notice the warmth of his hand compared to her own chill. Pushing aside any distractions, she focused on the task at hand, determined to carry out her duties with precision and professionalism.

She could only see his eyes and that was enough to make her nervous.

She tried to push aside the fluttering in her stomach and the way her heart seemed to skip a beat every time their eyes met. This wasn't the time or place for distractions. She had a job to do, a patient relying on her steady hands and focused mind.

With each passing moment, Aurora found herself slipping further into the rhythm of the surgery. The sounds of the operating room faded into the background as she concentrated on her task, her movements precise and calculated.

"Alright, that's all," Harry declared as he completed the final stitch. "Thank you, everyone." With that, he was the first to leave the room.

Aurora hesitated, waiting until Harry had exited before entering herself. Alone with him, she couldn't shake the sudden surge of apprehension. Despite her nerves, she couldn't fathom why he had specifically called upon her to assist him.

"Dr. Knight. A moment," he intercepted her as soon as she emerged from the scrub room. She swallowed hard, her heart pounding, and obediently followed him.

Harry led her outside of the hospital to a small coffee cart situated right by the entrance.

"Dr. Styles, I—"

"Latte or Americano?" He cut her off before she could finish, his question unexpected.

"Latte," she nervously replied as he ordered an Americano for himself and a latte for her.

"Dr. Styles, I just wanted to apologize for my comment. I want you to know that it won't happen again," she confessed, her words rushed and tinged with remorse.

"I wanted to apologize. I didn't mean to underestimate you in any way, Dr. Knight," he began after handing her the coffee and settling the bill with the vendor. "I'm certain that you're more than capable of handling not just an EKG, but any task thrown your way." He paid the woman and handed her drink. "I suppose I let the situation get the best of me. Just keep working as diligently as you have been, and you'll go far," he concluded before disappearing into the hospital.

Aurora remained behind, stunned by his words. As she processed his unexpected encouragement, she felt a newfound confidence settle within her.

Two months had passed since they began their tenure at the hospital. In that time, Aurora had forged strong bonds with Milo, Autumn, Daniel, and Abigail. However, Greyson had proven to be a persistent issue from day one. His reluctance to collaborate made him a challenge in a profession where teamwork was paramount.

As for Harry, he had remained standoffish. Since their last encounter, he hadn't directly addressed Aurora. Known for his impartiality and lack of favoritism, Harry maintained a neutral stance, assessing everyone solely on their ability to perform and execute.

“Right. Who will be assisting me today?” Harry asked as he looked around the operating room. His patient was being intervene due to a gun wound. He had already started operating, but though it would be a good idea to allow them to stitch up. “Milo and Aurora”.

Most of them had assisted him in the days prior, and today, Harry wanted both Milo and Aurora to have the opportunity to experience stitching up cardiac muscle.

Aurora silently recited the steps she had meticulously studied from textbooks and articles before entering the operating room. She made a conscious effort to recall every detail, anticipating that Harry might quiz them verbally. The nurse assisted Aurora in donning a gown and gloves, mirroring the nervous expression worn by Milo.

They positioned themselves opposite to Harry around the patient, they awaited instructions.

"Dr. Madden, could you assist me with this stitch?" Harry directed, prompting Milo to retrieve the necessary tools from the instrumental nurse. With careful precision, Milo attempted the stitch, mindful of Harry's guidance to ensure it held securely without compromising blood supply.

"I think that should do it," Milo ventured uncertainly, recalling Harry's recent advice on the importance of confidence in one's work.

"Very well. Dr. Knight, if you would?" Harry indicated to Aurora. Milo stepped aside, allowing her to take her turn. Aurora's task involved suturing the left coronary artery, a delicate procedure made more challenging by its angle relative to the heart. With a steady hand, Aurora cautiously slipped her fingers into the chest cavity, her nerves palpable.

Harry's reassuring voice broke through her anxiety. "Don't let it intimidate you," he encouraged, their eyes meeting in a moment of shared determination.

Aurora nodded silently, her focus returning to the intricate network of arteries illuminated by her headlamp. With determination, she began stitching, her concentration unyielding. The heart before them was far from healthy, but the man on the table had a family anxiously awaiting good news - a wife and two children relying on their expertise.

Suddenly, the monitor's alarming beep shattered the tense silence. Aurora's heart raced as she looked up, instantly gripped by nerves.

"What's happening?" Harry demanded, his voice sharp with urgency as he leaned over the cavity. "What did you do?" His tone rose with concern as he hurried to assist her in exploring the cavity.

"I didn't do anything!" Aurora protested, frantically searching for signs of bleeding around her stitches. "I followed the textbook guidelines," she muttered, her fear palpable.

Harry met her gaze, sensing her distress. "Find the source of the bleed," he instructed firmly, but the cavity was rapidly filling with blood. "Get a bag of O neg."

"I can't see anything," Aurora admitted, her panic mounting as she struggled to maintain composure.

"Think, Dr. Knight!" Harry urged, the urgency in his voice escalating. "The patient is crashing. What's your next move? Find the bleed!" His words reverberated in the operating room, but Aurora remained frozen in fear.

"Step away from the table, Dr. Knight," Harry commanded, his tone firm. "Leave the OR."

Feeling overwhelmed, Aurora hastily removed her gown and other attire, desperate for relief from the constriction. It was as if everything had become too tight, making it difficult to breathe or see clearly. Without a moment's hesitation, she fled the operating room and scrubbed out.

Navigating the hospital corridors, Aurora was acutely aware of the rising panic within her. Recognizing the signs of a panic attack, she sought solace in a nearby supply closet, allowing herself a moment of privacy to release her emotions. Though tears flowed freely, she couldn't shake the memory of her mother's advice never to cry in public, especially at work. Despite the overwhelming urge, Aurora remained composed, and like a good girl she followed the rules.

Twenty minutes elapsed before Harry emerged from the operating room. With a heavy sigh, he immediately noticed Aurora's absence, both outside the OR and in the scrub room. Removing his surgical cap, he made his way to the waiting room, his heart heavy with the weight of failure. Despite their efforts, the patient had succumbed to their condition, even after receiving extensive treatment with blood and adrenaline. Harry's attempts to resuscitate them had been in vain.

"I'll see you all in the conference room, and make sure the autopsy authorization is filled out by then," Harry commanded, addressing Milo, Autumn, Daniel, Greyson, and Abigail. "Where is Knight?" he inquired, noticing her absence. The interns remained silent, unsure of her whereabouts. "Regardless, proceed with requesting the autopsy."

After speaking with the family, Harry embarked on a search for Aurora. He scoured every corner of the hospital until he finally heard her sobbing in the supply room. Without hesitation, he used his key for access and entered, ensuring the door was closed behind him.

Aurora hastily wiped her tears and stood up from the floor as Harry entered.

"Dr. Styles," she managed to say between sobs, attempting to compose herself but unable to stop the tears from flowing. "I am sorry for what happened—"

Before she could finish her sentence, Harry's lips met hers. A rush of unexpected emotions flooded through him at the sight of her tears. He had always found her attractive, but he had maintained strict boundaries. Yet, in that moment, something shifted.

His fingers entwined in her hair as their kiss deepened. Initially taken aback, Aurora's confusion gave way to surrender. She allowed herself to be carried away by the intensity of the moment. Harry kissed her with a tenderness, but Aurora could feel the passion bruising her lips and swelling them.

As their kiss continued, time seemed to stand still. In that fleeting moment, Harry and Aurora were lost in each other, their worries and inhibitions fading into the background.

But just as quickly as it began, the reality of their situation came crashing back. Harry reluctantly pulled away, his fingers lingering on Aurora's cheek as they shared a silent, knowing look. They didn’t interchange any words. With a heavy heart, Harry turned and left the supply room, leaving Aurora alone with her thoughts and the echoes of their forbidden kiss.

"What happened to you? Are your interns driving you crazy already?" Niall inquired, joining Harry in the cafeteria where he sat with an untouched tray of food.

"Pretty much," Harry chuckled nervously, attempting to distract himself from the recent kiss he shared with Aurora.

"At least, there are some attactive ones," Niall added, digging into the burger he had ordered.

As Niall continued to talk about the interns, Harry found it increasingly difficult to focus on the conversation. Thoughts of Aurora and their momentary lapse in judgment lingered in his mind, casting a shadow over everything else.

"Yeah, they're certainly... interesting," Harry mumbled absentmindedly, his mind wandering back to the supply room where he had left Aurora.

Niall noticed the distraction in Harry's demeanor and raised an eyebrow. "Everything alright, mate?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

Harry shook his head slightly, forcing a small smile. "Yeah, just a lot on my mind, you know?" he replied vaguely, not wanting to delve into the details.

Niall nodded understandingly, but the concern in his eyes didn't waver. "Well, if you ever need to talk about it, I'm here," he offered, placing a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Thanks," Harry said sincerely, grateful for his friend's support. But even as he tried to push aside the tumultuous thoughts swirling in his mind, he couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to become even more complicated.

Harry contemplated confiding in Niall. He longed for advice, a listening ear to untangle the mess of emotions swirling inside him. But the fear of Niall inadvertently disclosing their conversation to the chief held him back. Despite his growing feelings for Aurora, Harry hesitated to jeopardize his career and reputation over a fleeting attraction.

He departed that day after assigning a substantial list of tasks that needed to be completed.

He had hoped that by leaving, he could silence the relentless thoughts racing through his mind. Yet, even after hitting the gym and attending pilates classes, nothing seemed to make a difference. Harry remained plagued by confusion over why he had walked away without a word.

Now, he realized he needed to have a conversation with her. He needed to explain why it had happened, to assure her that it was just a single mistake and nothing more.

The following day, Harry arrived at the hospital earlier than usual. After grabbing a coffee, he began his rounds, checking on his patients. However, just as he thought he would have some time alone and that Aurora wouldn't be around, he unexpectedly encountered her. She was seated on one of the vacant stretchers on the OR floor, engrossed in what appeared to be studying.

Not wanting to interrupt her concentration, Harry debated whether to approach. Yet, he knew he needed to pass by her to reach his destination.

"Dr. Knight," he addressed her, making a conscious decision to acknowledge her presence. Continuing on his path without expecting a response, he felt a surge of nervousness. His heart raced, pounding in his chest as if it might burst. Despite his expertise in cardiovascular surgery, his palms sweated profusely, giving the sensation of a heart attack to someone less accustomed to such symptoms.

"Dr. Styles, could I speak with you, please?" Her soft voice caught him off guard from behind.

"Sure," he replied, attempting to appear composed though his nerves were anything but. "Follow me." Leading her upstairs to the rooftop, Harry sought solace in his refuge during the most challenging times.

"Listen, Dr. Knight. I know that I was completely—"

"Dr. Styles, I just wanted to apologize for what happened in the OR—"

Their words collided as they spoke simultaneously, their apologies hanging in the air between them.

"I crossed a boundary yesterday, and I shouldn't have kissed you. I'm your superior, and I'm supposed to be your teacher instead of..." Harry rushed out, "It won't happen again."

Aurora was taken aback. She wasn't inclined to apologize for the kiss; in fact, she had quite enjoyed it. Nor did she want him to apologize for it. The realization that it wouldn't be repeated left her feeling disappointed.

"Yeah, alright, Dr. Styles," Aurora nodded, feeling as though her apology for the incident in the OR had been rendered unnecessary and brushed aside. Disappointed, she managed a small smile before leaving, too disheartened to continue the conversation or remain in his presence.

Harry remained upstairs, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him like an eternity. Suddenly, he heard the door open, accompanied by the sound of giggles. Glancing over his shoulder, he instantly recognized the couple: Niall with a third-year intern. Harry recalled her; he had been her advisor during her second year. They shared a kiss, and as Niall pulled away, his eyes met with Harry's.

Upon noticing Harry on the roof, the intern hastily retreated, eager to vacate the scene. Niall allowed her to run out before he approached Harry.

"Why are you here?" Niall asked, standing beside him, his embarrassment and nervousness palpable. He wasn't ashamed of their relationship, but he understood the potential consequences if they were discovered and reported.

"Just getting some air. You?" Harry replied casually.

"Look, Harry—" Niall began, but Harry interrupted him.

"No need to explain, Niall. I won't say anything," Harry reassured him. Even if he hadn't kissed Aurora, he wouldn't have exposed Niall's secret. "Is it worth it?"

"She is," Niall replied after a moment of silence. "Not everything is about work. We all need to enjoy life a little. What kind of life would it be if we never took any risks?"

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," Harry admitted after a few moments. Life had grown mundane and routine lately. However, since Aurora had entered his life, things had become more exciting. Now, he found himself looking forward to going to the hospital.

As Harry reflected on the newfound excitement Aurora had brought into his life, he couldn't help but acknowledge the subtle shifts in his routine. Each day at the hospital held the promise of unexpected moments, whether it was a challenging surgery, a meaningful interaction with a patient, or even the briefest exchange with Aurora herself.

Despite the complications and risks inherent in their budding relationship, Harry felt a renewed sense of vitality and purpose. Perhaps taking a chance on love was worth the potential consequences. After all, life was meant to be lived fully, even if it meant stepping outside the boundaries of what was considered safe and predictable.

In the bustling atmosphere downstairs, Aurora found herself engrossed in the tasks of tending to outpatient consults and suturing wounds in the emergency room. It was a deliberate effort on her part to refine her skills; the prospect of returning to the operating room filled her with trepidation. Despite her best efforts to dissect every detail of the previous surgery in her mind, she remained uncertain about what had gone awry. Tempted to lay blame on Harry and the intense exchanges they had shared across the operating table, she struggled to shake off the lingering doubts.

Just as she was completing the discharge process for a woman who had sustained a laceration to her eyebrow, Aurora's pager buzzed urgently, summoning her to the cardiology wing. With a sense of urgency, she set aside her current tasks and hastened towards her next destination.

Much to her surprise, when Aurora arrived, Harry had summoned everyone.

"The autopsy has been completed. I thought it would be a good exercise to review it and identify where we may have gone wrong," Harry announced as she entered the room. "Dr. Knight, please take a seat," he instructed, handing a copy of the autopsy report to each person present.

Nervously, Aurora settled between Milo and Autumn, her apprehension palpable.

"Dr. Madden, please begin," Harry prompted, and the group delved into dissecting every detail of the report.

"So, what was the issue? Where did we go wrong?" Harry inquired after they had finished scrutinizing the final word.

Silence filled the room as everyone hesitated to speak. Aurora knew what had transpired, but she hesitated to voice her thoughts; she was reluctant to assign blame to anyone.

Silence lingered in the room as Harry's question echoed, met only by the sound of his watch ticking away the seconds. He glanced at the time, realizing his own time constraints. "I don’t have all day," he stated firmly, casting a discerning gaze over the assembled group. Among them, Aurora's eyes met his, devoid of the confusion evident in the others. He hesitated to call on her, torn between the desire for her insight and the fear of alienating her.

Before he could make a decision, Milo spoke up, his tone tinged with shame. "My stitches came undone, causing the cavity to fill with blood," he admitted, eyes downcast. Harry nodded, a plan forming in his mind.

"I'll arrange practice sessions for each of you next week to work on your skills. You're all dismissed. Dr. Knight, a word," he instructed as the others filed out of the room without protest. Once they were gone, Harry locked the door behind them.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to face Aurora, his demeanor softening. "I don't regret our kiss," he confessed, a wistful smile playing at the corners of his lips. "If it were up to me, I'd spend the whole day doing just that."

Despite her efforts to conceal it, her smile threatened to reveal her true feelings, while the blush creeping up her cheeks betrayed her nervousness. Stepping closer to him, Aurora closed the distance between them, her arms encircling his neck as Harry's hands found their way to her hips. He pressed a kiss to her forearm, his gaze locked with hers, and in that moment, the world seemed to fade away around them.

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's embrace, the tension between them palpable, Harry couldn't help but feel a rush of conflicting emotions. He knew the risks involved in pursuing anything beyond a professional relationship with Aurora, yet he found himself unable to resist her magnetic pull.

Taking a deep breath, Harry leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from hers. In that moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of them, lost in the intensity of their shared desire.

Aurora's hands deftly slid Harry's white coat off his broad shoulders, a sense of urgency in her touch. Harry reciprocated, lifting her effortlessly off the floor as their lips met in a fervent kiss. With a swift motion, he gently placed her on the nearby table, his hands moving with purpose to rid her of her scrubs.

"God, I've been craving this moment since the day we met," he murmured breathlessly, the heat between them igniting with his words. Every touch, every caress sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body, building a fire of desire that threatened to consume them both.

As Harry peeled off her top, Aurora's breath caught in her throat at the sight that greeted her. She hadn't expected to find intricate tattoos adorning his skin, each one a testament to a hidden side of him she longed to explore.

Aware of the ticking clock, Harry felt a sense of urgency creeping in. He understood the fleeting nature of the moment, knowing his beeper could disrupt their intimacy at any instant. With a swift motion, he lowered his pants just enough to free himself, his focus fixed on savoring every second.

As his lips trailed down her body, Harry uncovered her breasts, his mouth eagerly seeking out the tender breasts. With delicate precision, he lavished attention on each voluptuous, perky nipple, relishing the taste and texture beneath his touch.

"We're running out of time," she moaned, urgency lacing her words as she struggled to discard her pants. "I need you, now," she pleaded, her desire palpable. Harry's smile deepened as he peppered kisses along her neck, swiftly removing her pants with eager hands.

With a sense of determination, he pushed aside her underwear, his touch eliciting a shiver of anticipation. Slowly, he teased her wet folds with his head, each caress heightening her arousal. Finally, he entered her, their synchronized moans echoing in the room as they became one.

Their union was a symphony of passion and desire, the intensity building with each rhythmic thrust. Harry's movements were primal, driven by an unquenchable hunger for her. Aurora arched into him, her nails digging into his skin as waves of pleasure washed over her.

Lost in the sounds of ecstasy, they surrendered to the moment, their bodies moving in perfect harmony. Every touch, every kiss, ignited a fire within them, consuming them with a raw, primal need.

As their climax approached, the world around them faded into oblivion, leaving only the pulsating rhythm of their entwined bodies. In that fleeting moment, they were consumed by an overwhelming sense of bliss.

As they reached their climax of pleasure, they let out a simultaneous cry of release, their souls intertwining in a moment of pure bliss.

But as the echoes of their passion faded into the night, reality came crashing back, reminding them of the world outside their cocoon of desire. With gentle kisses and whispered promises, they held onto each other, knowing that their love would endure whatever challenges lay ahead. Because even though Harry was risking his entire career by having sex with her in a conference room at the hospital, it was all worth it to him because he finally felt like he was living again.

[runicarbiter02]

How would each CoD character react to you touching their cheek for the first time? (In a caressing way)

A/N: Oh my god, this is actually the cutest and I couldn't think of a better way to start off this blog, thank you for this, love! I hope you enjoy! ~ Hannah

ALEX KELLER

Oh, this man is absolutely melting the second your hand cups the side of his face.

The goofiest damn grin on his face, corners of his eyes crinkling, soft laugh rumbling in his chest.

"How ya doing, sweetheart? Hanging in there?" Man is always concerned with you and your well-being.

Absolutely is the type of person to just completely nuzzle into your touch, soft sigh of content leaving his lips.

You aren't getting your hand back any time soon. Try and pull away, and he will absolutely pull the kicked puppy look. You can't bring yourself to pull away anyway.

ALEJANDRO VARGAS

"Oh, is there something you need, mi vida?" This motherfucker and his sweet, smooth voice. Love him.

He will gently draw you in close with a hand on your waist, that signature cheeky grin on his lips. He'll gently take your hand in his and just press sweet kisses to your fingertips.

This will lead to him pulling you aside for a moment, peppering you in sweet kisses and showering you in the most endearing compliments in Spanish.

Expect to be walking away with a spring in your step and a flushed face.

GARY "ROACH" SANDERSON

At first, he will look wildly confused, his brows furrowing slightly and his head cocking to the side.

"What's up, hun? Everything okay?" He signs the term of endearment with so much passion every time, it is absolutely the sweetest and most heartwarming thing. Any term of endearment he uses is always signed with more passion than anything else.

Once you let him know you just wanted to love on him, this cheeky little shit is flirting with you like crazy.

"Oh, just wanted to love on me, huh? Well, there's more ways you could-" He cuts his signing off with his own laughter when you playfully shove his face away, and he follows after you, making obnoxious kissy noises.

He makes it up to you, though, with the most affectionate kisses. He's goofy and that reflects in how he shows you his love.

(Can you tell I love Roach? I love him very much.)

JOHNNY "SOAP" MACTAVISH

Johnny will take your other hand, place it on his other cheek, and will gently press your hands against his cheeks to squish his face.

He hums happily, reveling in your touch as his eyes shut and his lips curl into a smile.

"Always know what I need before I even do, mo chridhe." This man is so, so whipped for you. Looks at you with so much love and affection that you might as well melt before him.

Do expect this to end up with you wrapped up in his arms, snuggled close, the Scotsman whispering some of the stupidest jokes known to man to you in an effort to get you to laugh.

JOHN PRICE

I have like a very specific image in mind for this one!

He tends to work himself to the bone, getting lost and caught up in his work, and its very, very hard to get him out of it. It's one of those nights where you find him hunched over his desk, nose buried in his work.

You walk up behind him, gently resting your hand on his cheek and he pauses, tilting his head back to look up at you.

Despite the exhaustion, his expression softens, the tender smile on his face highlighting the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes.

"It's late, isn't it...? Mmm... Alright, dearest, I'll head to bed."

He gently grasps your wrist and tilts his head to press a fleeting kiss to your palm, and then to the pulse point on your wrist. It takes a bit more convincing before he's off to bed.

(I'm a bit biased, I'm a major John Price simp if you couldn't tell.)

KEEGAN RUSS

Look, I firmly believe our resident masked men are softies, but they're all different in terms of their softness.

This man is a softie with you, but good god, is he suave and flirty.

"Mmm, what's up, kid...? Just looking for an excuse to see my face, hm? All you had to do was ask." It should be illegal how much this man's voice sounds like a silky purr.

Soft kisses to your fingers, knuckles, and the back of your palm. Fleeting kisses that barely meet, brushing against your skin and leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake.

"Always so sweet for me, kid."

KÖNIG

(Apparently this man is a colonel? And from what I've seen, if he joined at 18, and if we take the average amount of time it takes to get to that rank... This man is likely in his early 40s. Dilf König? Dilf König.)

Masked man number two! Softie, but different from Keegan. This man is the shy sort of soft.

I imagine this would happen after he shows you his face for the first time. He grew up bullied for his appearance, among other things, and its made him rather insecure about his looks.

When you gently cup the side of his face after studying him for a moment, he heaves a shuddering sigh and averts his gaze shyly. But, the second you tell him how handsome he is, his face goes pink and he flushes shyly.

"Ah, meine Sonne und Sterne... You're going to make me melt." He then proceeds to kiss you softly on the forehead and tells you how much he loves you.

KYLE "GAZ" GARRICK

A pleasant flush works its way onto his cheeks and he gives you that beautiful smile full of sunshine.

"Missed you, lovely. You been taking good care of yourself?" Sweet, heartless man that he is, worrying about you even though he looks exhausted after his most recent mission.

Gently draws you into him and just hugs you tight, pressing his face into the crook of your neck and sighing happily. The second your cologne or perfume washes over him, all tension leaves him completely.

"Missed this. Missed you." Whispered words against your skin. He gently sways in place with you as you two embrace, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head. Fully cherishes the moment.

"How's about some takeout and we finally watch that show you've been talking about? The House of the Dragon, right? Hopefully its better than the last few seasons of Game of Thrones." You have a stellar date in as you binge the entirety of The House of the Dragon and make up for lost cuddling time.

(Gaz does NOT get enough love and it's criminal. Perfect boyfriend/husband material right here. I adore him. Also? Man is absolutely gorgeous? Best man.)

NIKOLAI

(Russian dilf? Yes please! Underrated man right here.)

Late nights in bed, curled up with him are always the sweetest. Soft whispered nothings as you both lay together, skin on skin, fully content in a post sex haze.

He shoots you a lazy grin as you cup his face, his hand gently rubbing up and down the expanse of your back. "What's on your mind, мое солнышко? Laying there looking so stunning..."

Soft, playful kisses are placed along your jaw, a cheeky smirk on his lips when you begin to protest, laughter in your voice.

"One more round wouldn't hurt... We can sleep in tomorrow morning, Золотце." You know damn well you're going to be exhausted in the morning as he takes the time to worship every inch of your skin.

RODOLFO "RUDY" PARRA

(Rudy, my darling, my beloved, my SWEET! This man is also criminally underrated even though he's PERFECT husband material. SHAME!)

He happily returns the favor as you rest your hand against his cheek, his hand cupping your cheek as he rests his forehead against yours.

"Long day, cariño? Mmm, I understand... I'll draw us a bath and we can relax." He takes your hand, pressing sweet kisses to your knuckles before he draws a bath for the both of you.

You both spend most of the evening in the tub, you resting against his back as he holds you close, featherlight kisses pressed to your skin as you both talk about your day.

The both of you take such good care of each other, and there's never less than 100% put into your relationship on both sides.

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY

Masked softie number 3: Tender and longing edition.

His night terrors don't often wake you; he's usually fairly good at hiding them. The first time he does wake you is during a particularly violent one that has him thrashing and crying out in his sleep.

He wakes not long after you do, sweating and panting, his voice hoarse from how much he had been crying out. Once you're sure he's fully conscious, you gently rest your hand against his cheek and guide him through a grounding routine: 5 things he sees, 4 people he knows, 3 foods he likes, 2 things he hates, and one thing he loves.

As he talks, you become his sole focus as the night terror fades into the back of his mind, the grounding method working wonders.

And when it comes to the one thing he loves, he shuts his eyes and presses further into your touch, a few tears streaking down his cheeks. One hand gently clutches your wrist while the other rests against yours, holding your hand against his cheek. He doesn't need to say it. You know.

You always, always know. And with a kiss to his forehead and your thumb stroking against his cheek, you let him know. I love you too.

[I'M SORRY IF ANY OF THE TRANSLATIONS ARE INCORRECT, I TRIED MY BEST TO GET THE PROPER ONES!]

Mi vida - My life; honey

Mo chridhe - My heart

Meine Sonne und Sterne - My sun and stars

мое солнышко - My sunshine

Золотце - Honey; darling

Cariño - Honey; dear

TAGLIST:

@floral-force

[yelenasdiary]

Would you be open to write a smutty smut fic with (neighbor!)Wanda x reader where Wanda calls Reader at night and tell them she needs a babysitter for the kids buuuut in reality she just wants reader alone (the kids are not at home). Wanda being overall a bit dark and manipulative. Any kinks you want but would like it veryvery much if you included some lactation kink 🤭🤭🤭

https://www.tumblr.com/yelenasdiary/718652810829398016/requests-are-open-for-24-hours-only-for-smut

My Little Helper

Pairing: Neighbour! Wanda Maximoff x Babysitter! Reader.

Summary: It’s Christmas Eve, you’re getting some last-minute baking done and neighbour, Wanda, was the last person you expected to be calling for a favour.

Translations:: (from Slovak): dieťa (baby), mamina (mommy), miláčik (darling)

Warnings:18+ ONLY! Minors & Men DNI!! Smut, Dom! Wanda, Sub! Reader, Manipulation, Oral (Both Receiving), Fingering (Reader Receiving), Lactation Kink, Mommy Kink, Pussy Slapping??, Legal Age Gap, Language Warning, Mentions of Drinking | 2.3K

AC:Thank you for sending this, I hope you enjoy it! X

Holiday Special Masterlist

"Rockin' around the Christmas tree, have a happy holiday…"

The Christmas classic played softly in the background while you were decorating some Christmas cookies to take to your parents' house tomorrow morning for a long, long day of celebrating, laughing and plenty of food. You couldn't help but hum along to the song not even realizing you were gently swaying your hips to the music. 

"Everyone dancin' merrily, in the new old-fash-"

Your phone stopped the music, your ringtone now blaring through your Bluetooth speaker. Shifting your eyes from the snowman shaped cookie to your phone, you frowned slightly with confusion when you saw the name 'Wanda Maximoff' trying to call you. Quickly, you brushed your hands on your red apron with reindeer printed all over it and swiped 'answer' before putting the device to your ear. 

"Hello?" You answered. 

"Y/n, Hi, it's Wanda from next door!" The Sokovian replied with a cheerful tone with a hint of stress. 

"Hey Wanda, is everything okay?" You asked before dipping your index finger into the bowl of icing. 

"I hate to be a bother, especially since its Christmas Eve but I have stupidly forgot one of the twins Santa gifts! I have called the store and they said they had one of the remote-control cars left in stock and are going to put it aside for me. I was just wondering if you'd be able to come sit with the boys while I duck out to pick up the toy before the store closes? They're asleep, so they won't be an issue" your neighbor explained. 

You'd been babysitting Tommy and Billie since you moved in next door. You needed the extra cash and Wanda needed the extra help since her and her ex-husband, Vision, got divorced. 

"Of course, just give me 5-10 minutes and I'll pop right over" you replied with a soft smile to yourself. 

"You're an angel! Thank you love!" Wanda said before hanging up the phone. 

Moments later you were greeted by the warm smile of your neighbor as she opened the door. "Come in, come in" she gestured with her hand. You returned the smile as you stepped into her living room, she closed the door behind you, but you couldn't help but notice a certain silence in the home. Your eyes landed on the coffee table, evidence of a bottle of red and an empty glass with lipstick stains around the rim made you frown slightly once more. 

"So" you said as you turned on your heels to face the older woman, taking in the fact she was in her silk dark red night gown and clearly had no intentions of leaving the house. 

"Don't be mad, but the boys are with Vision" Wanda admitted quickly, seeing the confused look on your face. 

"Oh" you replied as Wanda took a few short steps closer to you. 

"You look worried, I am sorry, I don't mean to worry you darling" she smiled softly as she closed the gap between you both, "it's just, I guess the holidays have made me feel lovely and I wasn't sure how else to get you to come over" she went on. 

"I understand" you replied, shaking off the odd feeling you had, "you could've just said" you added, smiling kindly at the woman. 

Gently, Wanda brushed a lock of hair behind your ear before her hand cupped your face. You weren't sure what was happening, your heart skipped a beat at her actions. Part of you felt like this was wrong but the other part of you was melting on the inside at her soft, warm touch. Her green eyes were burning into you, watching as you got lost in them. 

"You're so sweet darling, do you remember when you said you'd be happy to help me?" She asked in a soft tone, "with anything" she whispered, her eyes dropping to your lips. Lost in a trance, you nodded. 

"I need your help sweetheart, you see, I haven't felt any relief since Vision walked out that door. It's lonely here without the boys and I have seen the way you look at me" 

"I-I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean" you replied with a stutter. Your heart dropped to your stomach, you were sure the short glances were never something Wanda noticed. 

"Your secret is safe with me darling" her thumb stroked your cheek, "let me ask you something, have you ever been with an older woman?" She asked as her eyes locked with yours once more. You shook your head at her question. 

"I didn't think so, why don't you take a seat for me?" Wanda suggested. You walked around the sofa and took a seat in the middle, your hands sweaty with nerves. Wanda sat down beside you as she poured herself another glass of red, "would you like a glass?" She offered but you smiled kindly and shook your head. 

You watched as her lips touched the wine glass, taking a generous sip before placing it back on the coffee table and letting her hand rest on the top of your thigh. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the alcohol wash down the back of her throat before she looked at you once more. "I can tell you're nervous, it's okay, if you can't help me, I understand. I'm sure I'll find some other way to relieve myself" she said, breaking the silence with a hint of sadness in her tone. 

"N-no!" You turned to her, "I want to help, I mean, I know the holidays can get lonely and you've been nothing but kind to me" you assured her. Wanda smiled softly once more, she had you right where she needed you, mentally. 

"I'm not sure you're understanding what I need darling" she replied, running her hand higher up your thigh, "I need you" she lent in and whispered sending a throb to your core. You felt yourself getting wetter at the thought of being with her, just this once.

"Ms Maximoff, I wo-" you paused, placing your hand on top of hers and stopping her from moving it any further to your pussy, "I wouldn't want to do anything that would ruin what we have going on, I love babysitting the boys and I know you need that help bu-"

"Shhh" she cut you off, "this won't ruin anything angel, I promise" she added, shifting closer to you. "This will just be our little secret" she whispered before you felt her soft lips press against your neck. It was almost as if you had fallen apart completely, a soft moan left your lips as your neighbor's lips explored the exposed skin of your neck. She worked her way to your lips, kissing you deeply while you slowly laid back on the sofa, letting her hover above you. 

Her lips were full, soft and sent butterflies to your stomach then suddenly she stopped and pulled away, "come on dieťa, let's go to my bedroom" she spoke, her Sokovian accent coming in thick, making you weaker for her. You followed her up to her bedroom where she wasted no time pinning you up against the wall, her lips attacking your neck once more while her hands slid inside of your sweater before working it off. 

"Lay down on the bed darling, mamina is going to make you feel so good, I promise" she whispered against your ear. 

Like a lost puppy, you did exactly what she said and now here you were moments later, naked with her lips trailing down your body. "Mm dieťa, you're so wet and I've barely touched you" she looked up at you from between your thighs. "Say you need me" she added. 

"I need you" you replied, feeling your pussy throb with need to be touched. 

"Not like that! You know what I want to hear" she said bluntly, giving a light slap on your clit making you squirm. "I need you, please mommy!" you begged knowing she had just broke you, "mommy, please" you begged once more just to have another chance to call her mommy. 

"I have waited far too long to have you say that" she replied before running the tip of her tongue through your folds, humming at the taste of your arousal. Her tongue worked through your folds, around your clit and inside your pussy before she began to lap at your pussy. Her room only filled with the sounds of your moans and the sucking sound of her lips wrapped around your clit, she was far better than any toy you'd used on yourself. 

"F-fuck!" You moaned, gripping handfuls of her hair as she slowly inserted two fingers inside of you, "d-don't stop mommy!!" You moaned once more as she began to thrust her fingers. 

Her tongue swirling around the hood of your clit, her fingers thrusting deeper with every moan that left your lips, your pussy clenching around her fingers as you grew closer and closer to your first release. Throwing your head back with a hand covering your mouth to keep the urge to scream her name from leaving your lungs. 

"Don't keep those pretty little moans from me, miláčik! I want to hear them all, I want to hear how good mamina fucks your pretty pussy" Her words filled your mind causing your hand to land beside you, grabbing at the sheets turning your knuckles white. Once more, the bedroom was filled with your moans. 

"Cum for me love, you can do it" Wanda paused for a moment to take a mental screenshot of the way you looked right now, spared out for her, giving her exactly what she craved. You came with her name on your tongue, your legs shook as she continued to lap at your folds and thrusting her fingers slowly to ride out your high. "That's a good dieťa" Wanda smiled to herself once you had caught your breath. 

Wanda hovered over you, watching the way your eyes looked into hers. You gently cupped her face and pulled her down, kissing her deeply and ignoring the sweet taste of yourself on her lips. "It's your turn mommy" you smirked against her lips before swiftly flipping you both over so you were on top of her. 

Her hardened nipples peeked through the silk of her gown, catching your eyes almost instantly as you traced a finger down the valley of her breasts and untied her gown, letting it slide off her skin. Your eyes travel slowly from her exposed breasts to her eyes, she smiled softly, "go on darling, have a taste" she said softly as if she could read your mind. 

You wasted no time latching your lips around her left nipple. Wanda moaned softly, running her fingers through your hair, "don't be shy dieťa" she said before the warmth of her milk hit your tongue. At first it tasted a little unusual but the more your tongue swirled and flickered at her nipple while you sucked lightly, you grew to love it and eventually moved your lips to her right nipple and giving it the same attention. 

Wanda's moans were sweet, like hot chocolate on a cold winter's night. She loved watching the way your lips were glued to her, from her nipples to making your way down to her core. You kissed the inside of her thighs, remembering all those times you got lost thinking about how lucky her husband (now ex) was. 

"You're so adorable" Wanda smiled softly when you looked up at her for permission, "go ahead, sweetheart. Make mamina cum" she added. Her Sokovian accent only turning you one more, if that were even possible.

You took a long lick through her folds, moaning softly at the taste of her. She was sweet, better than any candy you'd had before. You lapped and swirled your tongue, almost copying the same actions she did on you, dipping your tongue inside of her while your fingers toyed with her clit. Her hands rested comfortably on your head, her hips grinding against your tongue as she moaned and praised you. 

"That's it baby, just like that! Fuck!" She moaned, a light smirk on her lips as she enjoyed the bliss she was receiving, closing in on her orgasm with every flick of your tongue. "Sm close darling! Don't stop!" She moaned once more, gripping a handful of your hair and slightly pushing you further into her pussy as she grinds herself against you just a little harder. Her pussy clenched around the tip of your tongue every time you were inside her, you didn't want this to end but you couldn't wait to feel her release on your tongue. 

"I'm cumming!!" Wanda moaned loudly as she gushed onto your tongue, you drew light circles around her clit to help her ride out her high, looking up at her to see her smirk turned to a soft but proud smile.

 "Come up here sweetheart" she instructed after a few moments. You laid on top of her, she brushed locks of hair behind your ear before pulling you back in for a deep kiss, loving the taste of herself on your lips.

"Thank you love, you've been such a big help" she smiled softly. You could feel her still hard nipples against your naked skin, you smiled in return before nuzzling your head into her chest. Wanda pulled the covers over the two of you and placed a kiss on the top of your head as she wrapped her arms around you.

"Can I help you again in the morning?" You asked tiredly, already wanting another taste of her milk. 

"You're going to be my little helper from now on darling, get some rest. I have a Christmas present for you in the morning" she replied softly, keeping you close.

Taglist: @red1culous | @sayah13 | @charl-lally | @when-wolves-howl | @bentleywolf29 | @fxckmiup | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz  | @mmmmokdok | @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145 | @observeowl | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @wandsmxmff | @apollo2907 | @wandaroman0ff | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight | @santana1437 | @fluffyblanketgecko | @puta1 | @inluvwithfictionalwomen | @tintedrose12 | @jaymieflorissssssss | @tita001 | @lizzieslcver | @youralphawolf72 | @donnietarantino | @natashamaximoff69 | @hehehehannahthings | @pandaemonium111 | @secrettoallofyou | @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss | @marvel-fan-2021 | @mmmmokdok | @riveramorylunar | @ripofflizzie | @marvel-madnessx | @scarsw1fe | @toldthatdevil | @itsmv3 | @natashaswife4125 | @katiemay-025 | @aphrcdtes | @romanoffs-widow | @maria-403 | @boredandneedfanfics | @wandamaximoffspuppup | @xox-little-troublemaker-xox | @music-4ever | @hyper-fixated-delusions | @carol-romanoff | @jono723 | 

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 7 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You felt exhausted and unappealing at the start of your third trimester, but according to your husband, you were still perfect. Just as you solve one problem for your friend, you inadvertently cause another one for yourself.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, Bradley eating pussy, swearing, angst, pregnancy

Length: 5400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

As nice as your second trimester had been, as soon as it ended, you were exhausted all the time. And you were once again starting to feel nauseous every morning. Maybe your mom was right and you needed to eat more than random foods dipped in hot sauce sporadically all day long. Your belly was also starting to change from a cute bump to a tender, oversized monster. When you mentioned it to Bradley, he scoffed. 

"Don't call my Nugget a monster."

"I'm not talking about the baby!" you said as you started to get dressed for work in your maternity tent, gesturing at your body. "But there's a lot going on here."

"Yeah," Bradley grunted as he pulled a clean flight suit from the closet, eyeing you up and down. "There sure is. You look fantastic."

"I feel tired. And gross," you told him as you got dressed.

"That's just the hideous uniform talking. You didn't feel gross last night when we were snuggling. And you certainly didn't look gross."

You wanted to agree with him, but you were in a bad mood. The attic still wasn't finished even though your contractor, Bradley Ross, was at your house so frequently, it felt like he had moved in. And your parents would be here in four days. And your house still wasn't decorated for the holiday. And the only gifts you managed to buy were matching pink tropical shirts for Bradley and the baby to wear next summer. 

Your husband zipped up his flight suit and made his way around the bed to where you were standing. "Would you feel better if I picked up dinner on my way home so you don't have to cook?"

"Probably," you muttered, trying not to smile.

He kissed your forehead and gave you his most innocent looking gaze as his fingers grazed your belly. "And after that, I'll eat your pussy until my jaw locks up and you're in tears from too many orgasms?"

You had to press your lips together for a few seconds before you could say, "Please."

"Then it's a date, Baby Girl," he said before kissing you on the lips, leaving you to chase him for another feel of his rough mustache before you let him leave for his early flight time. "I love you and the Nugget!" he called from the hallway.

"We love you, too!"

Five minutes after he left, you were still getting ready for work. In fact, when your doorbell rang and Tramp went running through the living room, you were still buttoning your tent shirt. "I'm coming," you called out, already knowing it was your contractor. When you pulled the door open, your shirt was buttoned mostly correctly, and you told him, "I'm just about to head out."

"Okay," he replied, taking you in before you stepped aside for him. It didn't matter what your husband said, you were a bit of a hot mess right now. And that reminded you that you needed a little bit of hot sauce before you left for work.

"Do you need anything from me?" you asked Bradley Ross, and his gaze dipped down to your horrible uniform.

"Not at all," he replied, turning toward the stairs. "Enjoy your day."

You parted ways and headed for the kitchen, and you realized your shirt was even worse than you anticipated. You had to unbutton and rebutton the whole thing while your bread was in the toaster. When it came out nice and crunchy, you dipped it into a dish of hot sauce and ate it in four bites.

"It's so fucking good," you moaned at Tramp before scooping him some breakfast. "No hot sauce for you. Just for the human baby," you told him, holding your hand near your belly button as Rose started doing her somersaults. "You're up late this morning," you told her, deciding you better stop in the bathroom one more time before you even attempted the short drive to work with her bouncing on your bladder.

As soon as you were done and walked back through your bedroom, you eyed your bed longingly. "No," you told it, turning away from temptation and walking out to your red Bronco in the driveway. You backed out past the other Bradley's truck and drove to base.

You were already hungry again by the time you got there. When you turned the corner to your office, you found Maria standing next to your door. "Are you waiting for me?" you asked, and her gaze snapped up to yours. "I'm surprised you're here this early with Bob blowing your back out twenty-four hours a day." Tears filled her eyes instantly, and you rushed toward her. "Oh my god, Maria, what's wrong?"

She let you pull her into an awkward hug with your belly in the way, and she sobbed instead of responding with words, so you let her cry. She had been preoccupied at brunch with you and Cam, but she definitely hadn't been like this at all. If anything, she'd seemed like she was lost in a dream world with her French toast the other day.

She sniffed and managed to whisper, "Bob's being deployed for some special mission. He just texted me. He's leaving the day after Christmas."

"Oh," you gasped, rubbing her back as she cried. This would be the first time her boyfriend was deployed since they started hooking up a few months ago. They would be fine. You knew they would. But you recalled all too easily what it was like when Bradley was gone when you and he were first dating. It made you feel sick to recall the feelings of self doubt and uncertainty, especially now that your daughter would be arriving in three months.

You were about to tell Maria that Bob's deployment would feel terrible but wouldn't last forever when she said, "I have to break up with him."

"Pardon?" you asked, completely thrown by what she said. "I thought you were in love with him."

"I am," she cried as you finally unlocked your door with her clinging to you and managed to get her inside. "But I can't tell him that now. We've been taking things a little slower after taking things really fast right after he moved in."

You were trying your best to piece everything together, but it just wasn't all fitting in your mind. "That's good," you said gently. "So why would you have to dump him? You love him, and he'd be coming back to you and the apartment when he gets home?"

She looked at you and shook her head. "I can't expect him to go months and months without having sex. We do it like at least once a day," she whispered as tears flowed down her cheeks. "Maybe he'd agree to take a break? I don't know. But I can't get upset when he wants to hook up with someone else on the aircraft carrier."

You felt like your eyes were going to bug out. "Maria, I really don't think you should be hasty here."

She just shrugged in your arms before pulling away from you and wiping at her tears. "You're so lucky you have Bradley." She left you standing there, unsure what to say.

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

All of the holiday decorations had Bradley a little stressed out. Some of his neighbors had lights on the palm trees in their yards, and there was even a tree inside the guard house. He could remember very little about his dad, but Bradley could remember everything his mom did until he died. For the life of him, the one thing that escaped him was how she made even the most basic things feel magical.

She must have done it effortlessly, because he never took the time to look behind the proverbial curtain to see how it was done. There were always presents under their little Christmas tree even though he realized after she was gone that it must have been a struggle. And now Bradley wasn't sure how he was going to do the same when it all just seemed so stressful.

He snorted as he made his way across the tarmac to the tower. All you said you wanted for Christmas was a babymoon trip and a million orgasms. But you could have asked him for either of those on any day, and he would have given them to you. He needed to find something else for you, too.

"Are you having a baby shower?"

Bradley looked up to find his best friend was looking at him as soon as he walked into the rec room to get a drink. "Good morning to you, too," he said, reaching past her into the refrigerator. 

"You need to have one, okay?" she said. "Your wife will like it."

Bradley felt a little more anxious, because he was going to have to admit he was clueless when it came to this topic as well. "Isn't that something her mom should do?"

Nat rolled her eyes. "That's a lot for her mom to handle when she lives on the other side of the country."

He cleared his throat. "Well, what do you even know about baby showers?"

"More than you," she said easily. "Which is why I'll take care of it."

Bradley sighed in relief. "You're not going to give me a hard time about this?"

"Of course not. When have I ever done that sort of thing?"

"Literally since the first time I met you," he muttered as she walked away. But he knew he had nothing to worry about; Nat would make sure you had exactly what you wanted or needed in any scenario.

A minute later, when he got called out to the tarmac, he found his best friend wrapping Bob up in a hug. While he wasn't invited into the conversation, he could hear the dreaded word 'deployment' as he walked past on his way to his jet, leaving him to assume Bob got a notification this morning. Poor Bob, but at least it wasn't him for once.

When he took to the air, Bradley immediately felt a bit calmer. He would figure out how to take care of everything with you by his side. He would make things special for Rosie in his own way. He could share all the things with her that he loved about his mom.

But the thing that calmed Bradley down most of all was arriving in the cafeteria for lunch in time to see you. "Sweetheart!" he called out, cutting in front of Jake and Javy to get to you faster. You had a burrito bowl in one hand and a bunch of little packets of hot sauce in the other, and you still looked cute in your tent uniform. Your face lit up when you saw him, and even though he reeked of jet fuel, you let him give you a hug.

"Do you know where Bob is?" you asked after you kissed him on the cheek. "He and I need to have a conversation."

Bradley ran his hand along your belly, hoping to feel a little thump from the Nugget. "I think he's been notified about a deployment," Bradley muttered.

"I know he has," you replied with strong annoyance in your tone. "Oh, there he is," you said, looking past Bradley. "Excuse me, Roo." You kissed him and added, "I love you, but I need to take care of this. I'll see you at home later when you're going down on me?"

Bradley nearly choked as he muttered, "Okay," while Jake and Javy clearly tried to hide their surprised and amused laughter.

You hurried off in Bob's direction as Javy said, "Nobody better try to call Rooster tonight."

"Silence your cell phone," Jake said, clapping Bradley on the back while he blushed. "Eat your lunch but save room for dinner."

"Fuck," Bradley grumbled, walking away from them as they laughed. Just for that, he'd make sure he was on his A game at home. He'd also have to remind you that your voice tends to carry when you're annoyed.

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

You set your lunch down across from Bob at one of the small tables with only two seats. He smiled as you slid into the chair opposite him, and he greeted you by name. Then he cleared his throat and asked, "You're not sitting with Bradley today?"

You followed his gaze to where your husband was sitting with Nat and Mickey. "Nope. I wanted to sit with you."

"Okay," he replied, still smiling. "But I'm actually waiting for Maria?"

"She's not coming."

His smile started to fade. "She's not?"

"She's not," you confirmed. "She told me you're getting deployed soon." When he nodded, you asked, "Do you like having a girlfriend?"

His smile was back. "I like having Maria as my girlfriend."

You were shaking your head as you started emptying packet after packet of green hot sauce onto your lunch. "And are you planning on sleeping around while you're gone?"

"No." His voice sounded hoarse, and his face went pale.

"Glad to hear that," you told him as you rammed your fork into your burrito bowl.

"Why would you think I'd want to do that?" he asked, leaning a little closer to you, his brow creased in concern.

"I'm not the one thinking it. You better ask yourself why Maria might think you'd want to do that."

Bob's eyes went wide even as he blushed bright pink. "I don't know... I thought she knew how happy I am. I told her she makes me crazy... I said... I s-said I want to go at it all the time now. I've never been with someone like her." You shoved a bite of food into your mouth and chewed it up while he processed his words. "Wait... does she think I'm like obsessed with getting laid? Because I'm certain I'm just obsessed with her."

You nodded as you swallowed, proud of him for piecing it together so quickly. "Seems that way. You have about a week to put in some legwork if you don't want her to break up with you." In an instant, you were left with Bob's abandoned tray as your only lunch companion, and when he didn't return, you ate his breadsticks and baked pasta.

This was turning out to be the longest day imaginable, and when you finally climbed into your Bronco to head home, you were yawning. Then when you pulled into the driveway, not only was your Bradley not home yet, the other Bradley was still working. You grumbled as you made your way inside, where he was hammering something upstairs; you couldn't even start taking your horrible uniform off in the living room after you opted to wear it home today to get here faster.

When you let Tramp out of the laundry room and sent him to the backyard, you were fighting the urge to take your shirt off and walk through the house topless with every fiber of your being. You made it to your bedroom before tearing it from your body along with your uniform pants. You eyed the bed. You were tired enough to get in and stay there, but you wanted your reward for making it through the day.

"Takeout and head," you whispered, nodding in the mirror with a grin. You turned from side to side, examining your belly and your breasts. Rose was moving a lot today, so much so that you almost noticed it more when she took a break. And your boobs did look pretty nice. You took your bra off and added it to the laundry pile, and that's when your husband walked in.

"I brought pizza, Sweetheart," he said before his lips parted in soft surprise. "You trying to get started without me?" he groaned, reaching for his belt.

You bit your lip, and shook your head. "Do you think we should wait until the other Bradley leaves?" you asked, earning a devilish smirk from your husband.

"Didn't stop us last week when we had sex in the laundry room while he was working. And it didn't stop you from sucking my cock while he was here the week before." You squeaked as he smacked you on the butt and whispered, "You promised me I could have your pussy the second I got home."

"Did I?" you asked, climbing onto the bed, and he was right there with you, hovering over your body as you stretched out. When he nodded, you said, "Then I guess it's all yours, Roo."

But that wasn't even where he stopped first, and you shouldn't have been surprised. His lips met the valley between your very perky breasts while he unzipped his pants. Then you watched him rut gently into the bed as he licked and sucked on you. He had some particular fascination with your chest right now, and he was almost reverent in the way he touched you. 

The sounds of hammering and soft music playing from upstairs were really doing it for you. Getting nasty while you weren't quite alone was always enough to get you going, but on top of that, your husband was so turned on by your weird pregnant body. You felt like a queen as he plucked at one nipple and then the other with his lips, leaving your skin damp to the cool air. Your nipples were furled into tight peaks as he whimpered your name. 

"I can't get enough," he murmured, letting his mustache scrape along your sensitive skin. Your hips bucked from the bed as he let his teeth graze your nipple. "Where do you want my mouth?" he asked, meeting your eyes even as his tongue darted out to trace the undersides of your breasts.

"On my pussy," you gasped.

"I can't hear you."

"On my pussy!" you cried out, and he smiled that wicked smile again.

"Now everyone knows," he growled, leaning on his forearms and treating you to the flex of his biceps as he pushed your thighs apart and settled in.

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

Bradley had one perfect tit in each hand and his face buried in your soaking pussy. Each time he thought you were getting close, he lazily kissed along your dainty rooster tattoo and up to your belly. Once he even paused to say hello to his daughter while you dug your heel into his back and begged him incoherently to put his mouth back on your clit. And he did so with a smile. 

Was he rock hard? Yes. Would he love to cum right now? Absolutely. Was he enjoying every second of the way your body felt and tasted? Definitely. Could he wait until he got you off to let himself unload? For sure.

Your tits were getting bigger and more enticing by the day. And your swollen belly was clearly all his doing. He was grinding his cock into the bed as he slid his hands down to your thighs, spreading you a little wider as he licked all around both of your holes until you were whining his name.

"Fuck," he grunted. Bradley Ross had just turned off his radio. That meant he was getting ready to head out for the day, which also meant the hammering had stopped. You were getting loud as hell as Bradley pressed his nose to your clit and lapped up your wetness. He was only concerned for a split second about your volume before he decided to just carry on. It wasn't like the contractor hadn't seen how hot you were with his own two eyes. Nobody could blame a man for getting at his own wife as much as possible, especially one with massive, pregnant tits and the prettiest face imaginable.

"Roo!" you moaned when he wrapped his lips around your clit. "Let me come, Daddy."

You were tired. He could hear it in your voice. The bedding was a little damp from the mess you and he were making, and his jaw truly was starting to ache. When you released the bedding with your left hand, Bradley could see the sparkle of your engagement ring before you dragged your fingers through his hair. 

Okay, now he needed to get off pretty badly, so he slipped two fingers inside you, and as soon as he did, you came. "Damn," he grunted against your clit before circling you with his flat tongue as you rode his hand and yanked his hair. You were riding him as he pushed on the back of your thigh until he couldn't take it any longer.

He barked out your name as he got to his knees and thrust his cock inside your overstimulated pussy as you were coming down from your orgasm, and that just made you come for him a little more as you shook your head back and forth on the pillow. One more deep thrust, and he came too, with his hands on your tits and sweat dripping down the back of his neck.

When you opened your eyes, you had the most serene look on your face. Bradley kissed the tip of your nose as he pulled his cock free and grunted. "You know, the guys heard your little pussy eating comment at lunch today."

"Oops," you giggled, running your fingers softly over your tits as he stood up and started fixing his clothing. 

"I got roasted for it all afternoon." But he was all smiles, because he really wouldn't have it any other way. "Come out and get some cold pizza when you're ready. I'm going to see how it's coming along upstairs."

You just nodded, and Bradley took one more look at the messy creampie he gave you before vanishing out into the hallway and closing the door behind him. The Craftsman smelled like sawdust and fresh paint, and he was really hoping the project would be completed in the next few days so your parents could sleep up there during their stay. Otherwise he might have to gag you during sexual activities, and he was only half joking in his mind.

Bradley Ross was carrying a paint can and some rollers down the stairs, heading right for the front door. "Have a good night," he called out, barely pausing to get through the door. Perhaps he'd heard your beautiful chorus of moaning. Didn't matter, but Bradley had hoped to ask him how much longer he thought the project would be. Instead he climbed the stairs to investigate for himself.

It looked incredible, and it seemed like a lot had been accomplished today. Two bedrooms of identical size were both primed and ready for paint. The hardwood flooring looked perfect, and the new windows were letting so much natural light in. The bathroom wasn't large, but it did have a tub and a single sink vanity, and the tiles you picked out looked pretty.

He shut all the lights off and headed back down to the kitchen where you were wearing a pair of his underwear with a maternity tank top, dunking a slice of pizza in some hot sauce. "How's it looking?" you asked. He knew you were talking about the attic, but he couldn't help himself as he grabbed a slice from the box.

"It's looking sexy and pregnant and like it just had an orgasm." You burst into laughter as he added, "The project upstairs looks good, too."

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

Later that week, you got a vague text from Bradley letting you know that he'd be late getting home from work. You were expecting maybe he'd be home around six or seven, just in time to help you wrap the presents you ordered for your parents, but he didn't get home until almost eight, long after Bradley Ross left for the day. 

He was quiet and looked contemplative when he walked in. "Hi," you called out from where you were sitting on the couch, and he finally met your gaze. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He made his way over to you. "Mav just wanted to chat. Is there any pizza left?"

He kissed you before heading to the kitchen, and you stared after him. "Of course there's no pizza left. I'm pregnant. And are you being weird on purpose? Why are you three hours late getting home?"

You watched as he started to pour a bowl of cereal in silence, and you weren't sure if he was even listening to you. When you made your way into the kitchen, he finally said, "There's a potential job opportunity. Remember when I filled in for a few days here and there as an instructor?" When you nodded he took a bite of cereal before continuing. "Mav seems to think I could do more of that type of shit."

Your eyes went wide at the prospect of fewer deployments for him. "That might be a good opportunity," you told him, still unsure exactly where he stood on the topic.

He just shrugged and said, "It's certainly something to think about, Sweetheart. Wouldn't really be happening until a few months from now, but I'm going to keep the conversation going with Mav."

It was then that you realized he looked exhausted. "Want to take a shower with me? I could wash your hair."

Your husband moaned softly and set his empty bowl in the sink. "Hell yes. Absolutely."

Within three minutes, you had your hands coated in shampoo, and you were working them through his thick hair while he felt around your belly, hoping to feel the baby kick. "I feel like I barely got to spend any time with her this week," he whispered with a pout. "Where's my Nugget?"

You felt her give a little thump, as if she knew he was right there waiting for her. You quickly placed his hand a little higher, and he sighed in contentment. "Hey, Rose. Daddy's tired. Can we all snuggle in bed soon?" She seemed to squirm in response. "Your grandparents are coming to visit tomorrow."

"And the attic conversion should be done tomorrow, too," you told him. "That's what the other Bradley said when he was leaving today."

"Amazing. Merry Christmas to us."

You practically tucked him into bed as soon as he was dried off, but he kept reaching for you to join him. "I need to let Tramp out. I'll be right back." You walked through the kitchen and past the refrigerator which was covered in ultrasound photos. Then you straightened up a little bit while Tramp ran around the yard. By the time you got back to the bedroom, Bradley had fallen asleep with the Nugget Notebook open on his chest and a pen in his hand. You took a peek to see what he had written.

Hey, Rosie. It's almost Christmas. I'm not really good at celebrating holidays, but your mom is. Her parents are, too. I'm hoping I'll kind of figure this whole thing out once you get here. I'm thinking you'll make everything more fresh and fun for your old man. We can get better at things together.

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

You were more than ready for a few days off. When you left work on December twenty-first, you reminded Cat that you planned on dropping off some gifts for Jeremiah over the weekend. When you got to the parking garage, you saw Maria and Bob making out next to his truck. He had her hands pinned above her head, and she was all smiles. You felt immediately better.

You knew the plan for the evening, and so did Bradley. Your parents were landing in San Diego at 6:15, and you assured them that you'd be there to pick them up. When you got home from work, Bradley Ross was finishing some details upstairs, and you were delighted by what you saw when you went to have a look.

"It's perfect," you gushed, looking around the space. The one bedroom was almost ready for your mom and dad. Someone would just need to make the bed later. The bathroom was shiny and bright and lovely, ready to be used. The second bedroom still had some wet paint, but you planned on just closing that door for a few days. "Let me write you a check for the balance," you told your contractor when he was about ready to leave. "I'll meet you in the kitchen."

After you wrote out the check, you waited for both Bradleys while you dipped some grapes in hot sauce. It was almost time to leave for the airport, and you still needed to change out of your uniform tent. You undid the top few buttons and played with your necklace charms, and as soon as Bradley Ross walked downstairs with the rest of his supplies, you rushed his way.

"Here's what we owe you. Thanks again for squeezing us into your schedule so close to the holidays."

"I hope you are happy with the outcome for many years to come," he told you with a smile.

"It looks so good, I'll definitely refer my friends to you for any projects in the future."

"Thank you, Mrs. Bradshaw."

You didn't bother correcting him when he didn't use your hyphenated last name, because as soon as he walked outside, you had your shirt off and you were rushing toward your bedroom. But as soon as you passed your mirror on your bra on the way to the closet, you paused and smiled. Your husband would love a little treat in his text messages; it had been ages since you sent him something dirty.

You snapped a photo of your boobs as they were hugged by the black lace. Then you took your bra off, covering your nipples with your hand and forearm before snapping another. Then you removed your arm and took one last picture of your breasts complete with tightly furled nipples. You expected that your husband would run into the house begging for a quickie before heading to the airport. The thought of his flushed cheeks and raspy voice made you giggle as you attached the photos and texted them away.

His hyperfixation was so fun for you right now, and you started to wonder if he was going to be as excited by your boobs after the baby was born. Would he be interested in the breastfeeding process?

"Hey, Baby Girl."

You turned toward the doorway as you straightened your sports bra and pulled an oversized shirt on. "Hi," you said, trying to play coy, but just grinning wildly instead.

"You ready to go get your mom and dad?"

"Yeah... almost. You looked down at his gym shorts where you could see the outline of his phone in his pocket. You pouted a bit when you had to ask, "Did you like the photos I texted to you?"

His brow furrowed as he patted his pocket. "What photos?"

You sighed. "The ones I sent like five minutes ago."

You watched as he unlocked his phone and started to shake his head. "I don't have any messages from you since lunchtime. What was it?"

"Thee pictures of my massive tits," you told him as you reached for his phone. But when you checked, they definitely weren't there. "Maybe I didn't tap send?" you murmured picking your phone up from the bed.

Bradley's arms wrapped around you from behind, and you could hear the smile in his voice when he whispered, "Can't wait to see them for myself." But you froze and tried to shake him off as your stomach lurched.

"Oh no. No no no no no!"

"What's wrong, Sweetheart?"

You handed him your phone and covered your eyes as you started to panic. Apparently you hadn't tapped on Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3 in your contacts. After you started typing his name, you must have accidentally selected Bradley Ross as the recipient. "Bradley! I sent them to the other Bradley!"

His eyes bugged out as he saw the photos in the message for himself. "You sent our contractor pictures of your tits!"

"I didn't do it on purpose!" you shrieked. "They were for you! What are we supposed to do now?!"

He pocketed both phones, heaved a deep, exhausted sigh and muttered, "I'm going to have nothing but fucking gray hair after this, I swear to god." Then he rushed from the room and you followed him long enough to watch him grab his keys and run out to his Bronco.

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

Checking in with Maria and Bob was dramatic. Like damn. At least BG got to eat his lunch. And now we have the great Bradley mix-up to contend with. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 8

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[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Back home

Hey guyss, I wanted to write a story for Charles to celebrate his victory in Monza. I know this part is very reader x Arthur but let me know what you think and if you want more parts :)

You’ve known the Leclercs all your life. It’s hard not to when you’re their neighbour. With you and Arthur being the same age and going to the same class, you naturally became best friends, spending every moment together. From school to afternoons playing at each other's houses to accompanying his family to the track for their races, your lives were intertwined.

You grew up with them. You were there when Arthur won his first race, when Charles got into Formula 1, when you graduated high school. Your life has always been surrounded by the Leclercs, so it was almost inevitable that you’d fall for one of them—Charles.

It was evident to everyone. Even Arthur noticed, and he didn’t like it at all. He made you promise you would never date his brother. After all, how could he stand that when he was in love with you, even if you had no idea?

Your crush on Charles was just that—a crush, an infatuation, a dream. He was older than you and often had a different girl on his arm. You didn’t stand a chance, or so you thought.

Aside from your love dilemmas, everything seemed to be going okay, until one day, your father received a job offer that involved moving to Spain. Your life changed drastically from one day to the next. You spent your last night in Monaco with Arthur, savouring your final hours together before your departure.

The moon hung low over Monaco, casting a soft glow on the city. You and Arthur sat on the steps of the Leclercs' home, the cool night air surrounding you. It was quiet, the kind of silence that carries a weight of unspoken words.

"I can't believe you're leaving," Arthur said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I can't either," you replied, looking down at your hands. "It all happened so fast. One moment, everything was normal, and the next, we're packing up our lives."

Arthur nodded, staring off into the distance. "It's not going to be the same without you here."

You felt a lump in your throat. "I'm going to miss you so much, Arthur. We've done everything together since we were kids. I don't know what I'm going to do without you."

He turned to look at you, his eyes soft but filled with something you couldn’t quite place. "You'll do great things. You always do. Spain…it's just a new adventure for you."

"But I don't want to go," you blurted out, the tears you had been holding back starting to spill over. "I want to stay here, with you, with everyone. I don’t want to leave my life behind."

Arthur reached out, wiping a tear from your cheek with his thumb. The touch was tender, lingering longer than usual. "Hey, don’t cry. We’ll still be friends, no matter where you are. You know that, right?"

You nodded, sniffling. "I know, but it's not the same."

He hesitated for a moment, as if battling with himself. "I just…I want you to know that…you mean a lot to me. More than you probably realize."

You gave a small, shaky laugh. "You mean a lot to me too, Arthur. You're my best friend."

He looked like he wanted to say something more, his mouth opening slightly before he closed it again, shaking his head. "Yeah…best friends."

For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Arthur gazed at you, his eyes searching yours, and you thought you saw something flicker there—a brief, intense flash of emotion that was gone as quickly as it appeared. Before you could decipher it, he pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly against him.

"I'll always be here for you, no matter what," he murmured into your hair.

You nodded against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "And I'll always be here for you."

You stayed like that for a while, neither of you wanting to let go, until the sky began to lighten with the first signs of dawn. With a heavy heart, you pulled back, knowing it was time to go.

"Goodbye, Arthur," you whispered.

"Goodbye," he replied, his voice barely audible.

As you walked away, you missed the way he watched you, the way his hand reached out, almost as if he wanted to call you back, to tell you everything he’d been holding inside. But he didn’t. He let you go.

Years had passed since that night. You had spent the last four years in Spain, earning your degree and living a different life. But now, you were back in Monaco, ready to start your master's degree.

The airport buzzed with activity, a mix of tourists and locals rushing to their destinations. You walked through the arrival gate, scanning the crowd for a familiar face.

And there he was.

Arthur stood near the entrance, leaning against a pillar with his hands in his pockets, a smile spreading across his face as he spotted you. His hair was a bit longer, and he looked more mature, but his eyes still held that same warmth you remembered.

"Welcome back," he said, pulling you into a hug as you reached him.

"It's so good to see you!" you exclaimed, squeezing him tightly. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," he replied, his voice softer. He pulled back, looking you over. "Spain's been good to you. You look great."

"Thanks," you said, blushing slightly. "You look good too, Arthur. Really good."

He laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Thanks. It's been…different without you here."

You smiled, linking your arm through his as you started walking towards the exit. "Well, I'm back now. We have a lot of catching up to do."

As you talked, Arthur felt his heart swell with every word you said, every smile you gave. Seeing you again brought back all those feelings he’d tried so hard to bury. But he knew better than to show it. You still saw him as your best friend, nothing more. And after all this time, he didn’t want to risk ruining what you had.

"Yeah, we do," he agreed, keeping his voice light. "So, where to first? Home or food?"

You laughed. "Definitely food. I’m starving!"

Arthur chuckled, guiding you towards his car. "Food it is, then. I've got just the place in mind."

As he drove, he stole glances at you, soaking in every detail, every expression. He had never stopped loving you, even after all these years. But for now, he was content just having you back in his life, even if it was just as friends.

Because being near you, hearing your laugh, seeing your smile—that was enough. At least, for now.

Part 2

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

imagine sanji realizing he loves you

The sound of his boots hitting the pavement rang in the air as Sanji walked alongside Nami; he was holding her shopping bags as a few of the others pressed ahead. Cigarette forever perched in the corner of his mouth, he listened as Nami rattled off a list of things she still needed to purchase. Usually he'd love being the navigator's little errand boy but lately, even that felt flat.

His eyes focused on the back of your head, hair down and unruly as always. You were walking between Robin and Zoro, leaning into the latter a bit as you had just left a tavern. Sanji had kept a close watch out at the bar, cutting you off after a few drinks but he smiled as Zoro brushed you off and Robin steadied you with two helpful hands.

"You're always staring at her, Sanji and not in that perverted way."

The cook stopped in his tracks and Nami smirked, reaching for her bags in his hands. He wanted to feel his heart racing with her so close, looking so beautifully but he felt a familial warmth and it shocked him. "Nami..."

She smiled contently. "It's okay, you know, to just love one woman. I think you picked a really good one! She loves you too, but she won't make the first move. She's too stubborn for that."

Stunned, he could only stand there as Nami hurried along - calling for him to follow. He snapped out of his own thoughts of what he was feeling, what he felt every time you looked at him and he rushed after his friends. He reached the group and casually motioned for Robin to let you go. He gracefully slipped an arm around your waist and when your head moved to see who was holding you, the biggest smile appeared on your face. Nami mentioned loudly that she needed to do more shopping and Robin, wholeheartedly, agreed to join her while Zoro followed with promises of a new bottle of sake.

"Where's everyone going?"

Sanji smiled as you leaned against his body as he adjusted his arm around your waist. "Shopping, but I'm taking you back to the Sunny. You need sleep."

"Sleep sounds nice..." you threw an arm around his neck and your whole body collapsed against his strength. Sanji chuckled as he lifted you up into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest.

Nuzzling your head against his shoulder, you murmured something so quietly he had to ask you to repeat it. You sighed as he continued to walk, effortlessly carrying you in his arms. "I said you are a very nice man, Sanji. Sweet....and the best cook in the world. I wish..."

Sanji stopped, gaze casting down on you; he smiled when he felt that intense thumping in his chest. The beating of his heart in a rhythm that felt like a song he had never heard before and when your eyes met his, it felt like his heart shattered and in its place, a new one formed.

"I - I love you."

The expression on your face softened and Sanji relaxed. "You might not remember this, but when you're sober, I'll tell you again."

"I won't forget," you promised, reaching up to pluck out the cigarette in his mouth. He grinned when you tossed it aside and leaned in for a kiss. He kissed you softly, pressing his forehead against yours.

"I love you too...but I really need to get some sleep."

Sanji laughed, agreeing as he continued down the path back to the ship. You told him you could walk but he refused to put you down - the love of his life wasn't going to walk a step if she didn't have to. He said so with pride in his eyes and who were you to deny him such a thing?

Relaxing in his arms, your eyes remained on him as he talked about what he was going to cook for dinner and as he rattled off different recipes, you realized listening to him talk about cooking felt like a soft lullaby. When he asked what you thought, you could only smile at him.

"Whatever you cook will always be good, Sanji."

The boyish expression of joy and delight painted his face wonderfully against the setting sun, and the two of you continued the journey back to the ship knowing everything had changed in a matter of minutes. Sanji and you were going to embark on the Sunny together, and every time the two of you stepped off the great vessel - it would be together.

"Can we kiss later?"

The question from your unsober mouth brought out a low laugh from Sanji and he nodded furiously, pressing a kiss onto your forehead. "As long as you want, but you have to get sober first."

"Black coffee than, okay?"

The cook agreed, the Sunny in the distance. He inhaled the fresh air and reminded himself to thank Nami later because if it wasn't for her, he'd never have the courage to tell you how he felt. Lemon bon bons, he'd make her that but not before getting some coffee and food in you - because from here on out, you were his first priority.

"Come on, sweetheart," he murmured, eyes smiling down on you. "Let's get you some coffee."

"Thank lots of kissing?"

Sanji grinned. "Oh, so much kissing."

[mystellenia]

tutor session with nerd!ellie

summary: ellie agrees to tutor you, and your first session is today!!

content: sfw!! just some kissing and like light groping if u squint. i wrote this as like you guys lowkey playing around during the study break and i like how chill it is

notes: this took me way too long i need to time manage better

(wc 1.8k)

you sighed in satisfaction, propping your hands on your hips to look at your work. your apartment was basically sparkling after your much needed deep clean in preparation for your and ellie's study session. the two of you agreed that your place would be better since she has a roommate that spends most of her time at their apartment. 

thinking back to your last planetary class—the class after the time you asked ellie if she could tutor you—your lips curl up in a smile, laughing softly to yourself about how the two of you joked in class and how she explained a concept to you that you'd missed while watching her spin her pencil zoning out. 

you glanced at the clock, confirming that you still had time for a shower. it was only 3:15, and you guys had agreed on 4, so you freed your hair of its bun and headed off to the bathroom.  

after stripping and turning the shower on, you scroll on your phone to wait for the water to heat up, the small bathroom's air quickly thickening with steam. your thumb stutters while you clean out your notifications, coming across a text from ellie. 

ellie: hi are we still on for today at 4? and should i bring my textbook or did u get one from the library? 

your thumbs circle around one another as you think of your response. 

you: yess sometime around 4 is still good, i'll send address now 

you: please bring your textbook i haven't gotten around to getting one yet 

the steam from the shower started to fog up your phone screen, causing many typos you luckily caught before hitting the send button. 

turning on your shower playlist, you set your phone on the sink and pull the curtain aside to step inside. 

a quick twenty minutes later, you've finished up your shower and slip on some pjs after lathering your body in lotion. the time on your phone now said 3:48, so you exited your room to the living room to make sure you had everything you needed to study. 

once you laid out all your notes and your laptop, you plopped on the couch and waited. the dancing flame of the candle you lit caught your eye, teasing you after you blew it out in fear that she might think you were trying to 'set the mood' and subsequently relit it. 

fifteen minutes later you hear four soft taps on the door, signaling ellie's arrival. for no reason at all, you look through the peephole and see her standing on the other side of the door staring at her feet, red-brown hair pulled into a loose, low bun and her arms covered by a navy blue henley. that's all you catch, though, before she glances up again and looks at the door, making you jump to the side at the thought of her somehow seeing you through it.  

returning to the door, you turn the doorknob to swing it open and are met by ellie's startled stare before her eyebrows lower again. "hi... am i late?" 

"no, no, of course not," you rush out, "just on time. i was actually just waiting on the couch for you."  

you step aside to make room for her so she can enter, and she quickly glances around before noticing your setup and taking the seat next to yours to unpack her bag.  

once she's fully unpacked everything, with her textbook open on the chapter you went over in class, she pats her thighs and begins, "well, how about we start on what we went over on tuesday, yeah?" 

you dumbly nod as you reach for your notebook to flip to last class's notes.  

"okay, let's see..." while she finds the section your professor left off at, you take a moment to look at her. her brows were slightly furrowed as they always were, and you start to ask her how she got the cut in her right eyebrow but she speaks before you can get it out.

"okay, found it. do you understand everything about planetary atmospheres?" she asks. 

"pshhh, that's a cakewalk," you jest. "just weather, but in space, no?" 

"okay, then, miss genius," she chuckles, finding the next section. "how about planetary formation and habitability?" 

"yeah, isn't that just on, like, explosions? like supernovas?" 

ellie snorts before answering, "not at all, actually. let's start here." 

you feel your ears heat a bit at your complete failure at recalling tuesday's class and pull your knee up to your chest to rest your cheek on it. 

"so you already know that planets form from dust and gas around a young star, right?" you nod, so she continues. "so all planets orbit their own host star—ours is the sun..." 

forty-five minutes later, you stand up and stretch out your stiff joints, heading to the kitchen to grab you and ellie a snack. rummaging through the pantry, you find tortilla chips and immediately think of chips and salsa.  

"hey, we could do chips and salsa," you announce before realizing your apparent lack of preparation. "damn... so there's good news and bad news. which one you want first?" 

she shoots a confused look your way as she answers, "good news, of course." 

"so the good news is that i have tomatoes for us to bite into like apples to pair with the tortilla chips," you say with a cheeky grin. 

ellie drops her phone as her entire face screws up in a grimace, her eyes closing while she thinks. "why... the hell would we bite into tomatoes?" she probes. 

"because, the bad news is that i don't have any salsa. so." 

she seems lost in thought for a moment before asking, "how many tomatoes do you have?" 

you pause to count them, "uhh, like four. why?" 

"because i can make the salsa," she declares while standing up and rolling her sleeves back, revealing an intricate tattoo on her forearm. "can i look in your fridge to see what you have?" 

"yeah, sure," you gape, surprised at her gracious offer. "how do you know how to make salsa, anyway?" 

she speaks into the refrigerator as she bends to grab the tomatoes and other veggies and herbs you'd forgotten about. "just some recipe online," she responds. "but that recipe is what my dad used all throughout my middle and high school years. it's the best there is, trust me," she says, looking back and up at you as she finishes. 

"oh, i'll be the judge of that," you quip. 

once she starts chopping the onions and tomatoes, you have to force yourself to stop drooling over her random knife skills and excuse yourself to the bathroom even though you don't have to go. 

you splash a bit of water on your cheeks and give yourself a pep talk in the mirror to boost your confidence, then head back out into the kitchen. ellie had apparently finished her salsa and plated it in a small dipping bowl for the two of you, her lean forearms now flexing as she opened the bag of tortilla chips. 

"hey, perfect timing," she says, clapping her hands over the sink to rid them of any crumbs. "i just finished my legendary, michelin-star salsa. you ready?" 

"you're really gassing this up, huh?" you smirk. "i bet this recipe is by a mom of three who had to share her whole life's story before even telling what ingredients you needed." 

"bro, just eat it already." 

you give in and scoop a hefty dip of her salsa onto your chip, raising it to your mouth while maintaining eye contact. 

your eyes widen as the salsa covers your tongue, the crunch of the chip pairing perfectly with the smooth sauce. "oh my god. el, this is so good." 

she stares at your mouth moving around your bite for a beat too long before her eyes flick back up to yours, processing what you said as her trademark smirk took over her face.

"el, huh?" she teases, but saves you from responding with her cocky answer. "of course it's good, i made it," she says while wiping imaginary dust off her shoulders. 

the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, you leaning on the kitchen counter over the bowl of salsa and her looking down at you eating the snack. her eyes linger on your lips for a bit before her hand lifts to your mouth to brush her thumb at the corner of your mouth. she casually wipes her hand on a rag before realizing what she did and freezing while staring at you like a deer in headlights. 

in your shock, you stop chewing and murmur through the fresh tension, "what was that for?" 

"oh, you had some salsa on your lip," she explains, lifting her pinky finger to point to your lip so as to prove herself, "right here." 

her hand slowly falls back to her side as you stand straight and grab her arm to pull her in to a bruising kiss, slow and full of want.  

ellie doesn't need to be told twice—she quickly has your thighs wrapped around her hips after tapping them to signal you to jump. she walks the two of you to the island so she can stand between your open legs. her kisses hungrily move down to your neck, her mouth making quick work of undoing what little composure you had left as a soft breath escapes you. 

in your lustful daze, you don't notice ellie's phone ringing for a while—not until she grunts in annoyance. opening your eyes to look over her shoulder, you see her phone lit up next to the fridge with a call from a someone named "claire!!" 

"it's from someone named claire?" you inform her with poorly masked jealousy and are met by her exasperated groan. "god, that's my roommate," she says. "just ignore it." 

you do just that, closing your eyes again as you pull ellie back up to your lips to kiss her again, her tongue tracing the seam of your lips before entering. 

the phone rings again and ellie pulls away with a huff to answer it. "yes?" she demands. although you couldn't make out what this claire was saying, you did notice ellie's eye roll and her hands patting at her pockets to retrieve her car keys. "yes, i'm leaving now." 

"ugh, my roommate locked herself out of the apartment. again." she walks back to the couch to pack up her stuff to leave, and you shyly slide off of the counter and simply watch her. 

"well, what a productive study session, am i right?" she awkwardly jokes, twisting the ball of her foot into the ground. 

"oh, shut up, ellie. i'll see you in class on thursday?" you say. 

"yeah," she confirms with a chuckle, "thursday." 

she lets herself out, but not before sharing a soft stare with you, her gaze stuck on yours like honey. then, she stepped outside and the door shut with a click. 💫

reblogs are always greatly appreciated!!

yayyyy finally done and i already know what i’m writing next (ellabs girlies get ready)

ladies ladies calm down i gotta establish the relationship before anything happens but perhaps a part 3??? lets see how this does

tags of those who were waiting for this: @saturnsdrafts @hazywazysmind @nramv @elliesactualgirlfriend

anyone who wants to be tagged in the future, just comment!!

click here!! oh and here too!! ˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶

[jays-bookmarks]

Relief (Blade x gn!reader)

@genshin-obsessed so I heard u like Blade 👀

Summary: After being cursed with immortality by the Abundance, you joined the Stellaron Hunters as a doctor. Today, your most stubborn patient finally comes to you for help. Words: 835 Warnings: reader is implied to be shorter than Blade & can be held in his lap (but our Bladie is a strong boy so he can hold anybody uwu)

You muttered to yourself as you walked around your office, organizing your medicines and checking equipment. As the only doctor in service of the Stellaron Hunters, it was important for you to keep everything in tip-top shape in case of emergencies. Although Elio usually told you in advance if a mission would be particularly bloody, there was always the possibility he would withhold one of his predictions. You couldn’t get complacent.

Despite your regular interactions with the other Stellaron Hunters, you felt you couldn't truly connect with any of your “teammates”: Kafka was always inscrutable, Silver Wolf seemed to treat reality like a game, and Blade… Blade was the only one who you thought could understand you. You had both been cursed by the Abundance in your own ways, after all. But after he ignored your attempts at friendship for so long, you had resigned yourself to an eternity of loneliness in your empty office.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by a knock on your door. You paused for a moment. Neither Kafka nor Silver Wolf were due for an appointment, leaving only one other person…

You opened the door to see Blade standing with his arms crossed. His expression betrayed nothing of what he felt, but you could see a tension in his shoulders. He didn’t speak as you blinked up at him in surprise.

“Blade. Come in,” you said, stepping aside to let him enter.

Blade went to sit down in his usual spot, and you quickly busied yourself gathering the necessary materials to make the painkiller you devised specifically for his condition. You couldn’t mix the medicine in advance, as its effectiveness faded quickly with time, so you always kept the raw ingredients on hand.

You glanced over your shoulder at Blade. Your gaze flicked over his body as you observed him. To the untrained eye, Blade seemed fine as ever, if a little irritated, but you knew how to read him after having treated him for so long. You could tell he was holding back more pain than usual. The fact that he was here of his own volition told you all that you needed to know.

You took a breath, then walked over to him. The medicine you made would work in time, but you could provide him with a more immediate source of relief. Gently, you reached out and pressed a hand to his chest.

He stiffened at the contact but didn't push you away. You closed your eyes and poured your energy into him, letting it wash over him and dull his pain. You focused until you felt Blade’s breathing grow more even and his muscles relax.

You felt lightheaded as you pulled back. The process had taken much longer than you anticipated and had cost much more of your energy as well.

You tried to step away toward the counter, not wanting to linger too long in Blade’s personal space, but a wave of dizziness hit you and you stumbled. Before you could hit the floor, Blade caught you in his arms.

“What did you do?” he asked, panic bleeding into his voice.

You knew you would recover in time—the Abundance’s curse would not let you go so easily—but the pain was still nearly unbearable. Your breathing was shallow and your vision blurry. Blade adjusted his grip on you and pulled you into his lap. His arms shook slightly as he held you.

“I’m sorry… I just wanted to help…” Your voice was weak and shaky as you spoke. “It… it'll pass… I'll be okay…”

Though you said this, you were still on the verge of tears. You were not like Blade—you hadn’t spent an eternity in combat and had yet to become numb to the pain of pushing your body to the limit. What he bore with a straight face was agony for you. You tried to hold back a whimper.

Blade tightened his grip around you.

“Why?” he asked.

“I… just wanted to give you some relief…” you said. You pinched your eyes shut to try to block out the pain. “Did… did it work, at least?”

Blade was silent for a while. Then, he pulled you closer, letting your head rest against his chest as his breath fanned over your face. 

“…Yes,” he said. “Don’t do it again.”

“…Sorry…” You breathed out, letting your eyes fall shut. After what you had done, you were completely exhausted, and Blade's embrace was so warm… You fell asleep to the steady rhythm of his heart, for once free of worries as Blade held you close.

The next day, Kafka would enter your office only to see Blade glaring at her to stay silent. You were still slumbering in his arms. He had stayed in that same position all night, not caring about the fatigue in his muscles nor the ache that came with it. Kafka smiled knowingly, holding back her teasing words—if only for now—as she closed the door, leaving Blade alone with you.

[yandere-randomfandom]

Kid!Stanley Pines & Kid!GN!Reader

Poor Stanley,,, why is his backstory so sad? This is where MC saw Stan and decided to cheer him up.

🍦

The moon emerged from behind the clouds, casting its light on the entirety of New Jersey. It peculiarly chose to shine on the Pines twins who were standing outside their lawn.

Ford frowned at Stan's crumpled sign that hung over his neck. Extra Stan, for three dollars or better offer, seriously?

"Are you really sure you'll be okay? I could help you sneak in after midnight, you know."

Stan tutted dismissively, waggling his index finger. "Tsk, tsk, poindexter. It's almost like ya want me to get in more trouble. Forget about me! I'll be fine, I swear."

"Ugh, I just wish Dad hadn’t done this," the former muttered, draping a blanket over the latter's shoulders. Ford looked into his brother's eyes with worry. "But... I'm sure he doesn't mean it. Things are just—"

Stan turned away, brushing him off. "Yeah, yeah. We're poor and stressed and all that. Now, scram! Unless you wanna end up outside like me!"

"...Goodnight, Stanley," Ford sighed, reluctantly leaving him alone. A few more seconds and Stan listened to their front door get locked.

It's quiet now. Nothing but the hushed noise of crickets and wind. Stan sneezed, pulling his blanket closer to his body. He sat on the rough sidewalk; it was better than the ant-infested grass behind him.

Stupid dad, he thought as he lightly kicked the ground. Stupid school.

Stan couldn't stop the tears from pricking his eyes. This is so annoying. Can sleep just hurry up and take him already?

...

A small, but noticeable creak.

The boy whirled his head toward the next house in alarm, locking eyes with you. You stared back with wide eyes, one of your hands supporting your window.

As soon as he noticed you, however, you promptly retreated into the comfort of your dark room.

Stan scoffed, crossing his arms. Great. Now he had the crazy neighbor's kid judging him too.

Whatever. It should be fine. He only had to endure this for one more day.

His eyes closed, his head tilting to his shoulder as he drifted into dreamworld.

...

It's hot.

Stanley fluttered his eyes awake, only to shut them close again when the sunrays horribly blinded him. What a terrible way to wake up...

He felt his dry tongue and cursed under his breath. While rubbing his crusty, sweaty face, he paused at the sound of bells harmoniously ringing.

There's an ice cream truck that was parked many steps away from him. Turning his head, he saw it had just one customer— you. He accidentally made eye contact, then quickly flashed you a smile before looking away and using his blanket to wipe the sweat from his face.

Ugh. This is awkward.

And the heat is unbearable. He needed shade.

...

Footsteps.

As Stan glanced at the ground beside him, he watched as an elongated shadow slowly grow taller by his sitting figure.

He turned and blinked at the sight of you offering ice cream. Your shadow comforted his overheated body even for a moment.

"Hi," you said. "This is for you."

Stan's gaze flickered between you and the ice cream. It was his favorite flavor. "Huh?"

Your hold on the treat slightly loosened. "Oh. Do you not like this? I think I've seen you eat this somet—"

"If you insist, thanks!" the boy snorted, swiping the ice cream away from you. He felt nothing but utter relief when his tongue tasted the cold.

Quietly, you sat down beside him, sparing a small gap between you two. Weird. He kind of expected you to leave right after that. One thing's for sure though—Stan couldn't handle sitting in awkward silence.

"Y'know, ice cream for breakfast is an interesting choice," he remarked, leaning toward you with a curious look. "I feel like it'd be better for dinner. And I'm pretty sure that it's still really early."

You fidgeted with your ice cream cone. "Um. Yeah. It's around eight."

"Eight?!" Stan squeaked, his eyes bulging. He’d normally still be asleep at this hour. It was completely off his sleep schedule. Aside from school— but it's Sunday! "Why are you here, then?!"

A smile curved your lips. "You slept outside. I just wanted to keep you company."

"We're not even friends," he pointed out.

"I want to be," you murmured, looking away from him.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." You modestly took a bite of your cone. "I said I bought you."

"Huh?!"

"Your ice cream costed three dollars."

"It did?!"

...

...

...

Ford stared, astonished, at the sight of you and his twin sleeping next to each other. Your head rested on his shoulder, while Stan's head nestled on yours. Both of you breathed gently as you snoozed.

[deakyjoe]

Taste Your Lips Of Wine

Pairing: Papa Emeritus IV/Copia x Reader (fem, afab)

Category: smut, angst, fluff, friends to lovers

Summary: Copia needs help when being wine drunk creates a problem.

Warnings: 18+, smut, dry humping/grinding, pillow humping, explicit mentions of sex, horny Copia, horny reader, angst, loneliness, crying, Copia’s a bad friend (but makes up for it), Copia is also slightly perverted but knows it, friends to lovers, getting wine drunk, several mentions of erections, swearing/cursing, poorly translated Italian (topina = little mouse), let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 6k (it was going to be longer but I decided to split it into 2 parts)

A/N: We’re back with more dry humping with Copia! This was inspired by the knowledge that apparently he humps things when drunk (source: Tobias Forge somewhere I think). This will have a part 2 at some point but it’s not yet finished so don’t know when that will be. Enjoy!

Consider buying me a coffee :)

Being best friends with the leader of the clergy had its downfalls.

"What do you mean you're cancelling again?" You asked with a huff, hands planted firmly on your hips as you stared him down.

Copia shifted from foot to foot, knowing how much he was upsetting you. There was nothing he disliked more than upsetting you. But he didn't have a choice. "I'm sorry, I know. But I promise I'll make it up to you."

You turned away from him with a low groan, he'd made that promise the last three times. All you wanted was one night with him. One night to hang out together, catch each other up on the gossip of your lives over a bottle of wine. One night with your best friend. It wasn't much to ask for. And your empathy for the business of his situation only extended so far. "Fine, yeah."

"Topina..." He mumbled, taking a couple of hurried steps towards you.

Your eyes screwed shut at the use of the pet name, you knew he was only using it to soften you up. Copia had an unintentional manipulative streak to him, unaware of how easy it was for him to shape you and your thoughts. But you figured that was on you, and your unconditional affection for him.

Another downfall of being his best friend. He was easy to forgive.

Looking back over your shoulder at him, you plastered a smile on your face. "It's okay, really. I know you're busy. Just... we'll reschedule."

Again.

He watched you for a moment, mismatched eyes willing you to break and confess how truly saddened you were at the prospect of another lost evening with him. But you stayed strong. If Copia had to list a downfall of being friends with you, he'd say it was your unwillingness to tell him when you were disheartened over something he'd done. He could always sense it in you, he just didn't know why you refused to admit it.

So he nodded and looked on as you turned away from him again, pretending to busy yourself with something on the desk in front of you.

Before his own guilt could walk him out of the room, he forced himself towards you. Stopping just a mere couple of inches behind you, Copia watched as you tensed up at his presence before wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.

"I'm sorry, topina." He whispered in your ear. He knew the position was intimate, especially for outsiders who viewed the two of you as just friends, but you and Copia had never shied away from the more personal of actions. "I will cancel all future clergy meetings if it will make you happy"

You relaxed back against him, resting your palms over the tops of his gloved hands as you sighed. "All future clergy meetings? So not this one?"

Copia grumbled something under his breath. "Unfortunately not."

You could hear in his voice how unhappy he was with the situation as well, so you decided to push your own feelings aside. As you always did for him.

You turned in his grip and cupped his face in your palms. "Just let me know when you're next free and I'll be there with a bottle of wine and two glasses."

"No, I shall bring the wine. The least I can do for being such a bad friend." He frowned at you, trying to tally up in his head how many times he actually had cancelled on you recently. The numbers weren't looking good.

You shook your head. "You're not a bad friend. You are, however, a good Papa."

He averted his gaze out of embarrassment, tips of his ears burning pink. "I can be both at once."

You thought that over. It was true, and the angry part of you wanted to agree. He was being a bad friend by cancelling so often after promising you just a fraction of his time. But the other part of you, the part that adored him more than anything, and regretfully the part that ruled the majority of you, wouldn't allow such a thing to slip past your lips. "Don't be foolish, Copia."

His eyes flashed back to yours.

"You are a good friend. The best friend I could ask for." You placed a quick kiss on his cheek before waving your hands at him in a dismissive motion. "Now go. You have important Papa things to be getting to, I'm sure."

He watched you again for another moment, silently begging for you to just confess that you were frustrated with him. But you stayed quiet. So he leaned forward, left a lingering kiss on your forehead, and then left the room, and you, as he went to deal with whatever had caused him to cancel in the first place.

You collapsed into the closest chair and held the tears back, no matter how much they stung your eyes or made the back of your throat ache. You wouldn't allow them to fall. You wouldn't cry again over your best friend abandoning you for another evening. You wouldn’t…

Staring at the clock, you debated the best way to spend your suddenly free evening as the first tear cascaded down your cheek.

That was another downfall of being best friends with the leader of the clergy. It left you rather lonely.

Copia couldn't believe his luck when only an hour later he was being informed that the meeting, the one he'd broken his best friend's heart in favour of, had been cancelled. Sister Imperator had come down with some sort of illness. She was sort of integral to the whole thing which meant proceedings couldn't go forward without her.

Attempting not to jump for joy at the news of her being sick, Copia raced down to the cellars where he knew the good wine was kept. He could only hope that you were still in your office where he'd left you earlier, as this was his opportunity to make up to you all those lost nights. And what better way to start than grabbing two bottles of wine rather than the usual singular one.

As he hurried towards where he hoped to find you, he debated what way was best to inform you that he was now free. He didn't want you to think that you were second choice, that he was only there because the clergy meeting had been cancelled. Whilst it was partly true, you were always first in his head, and his heart, but he often didn't have much choice when it came to splitting his time. He had to attend official clergy business. Which meant you were granted only spare moments. Copia knew it was unfair and he wanted to change it. But how?

He felt over the moon when he saw that the light in your office was still on. You hadn't decided to spend your evening elsewhere.

All thoughts escaped him, however, when he burst through your office door with a smile, the two bottles of wine raised high in his hands, and found you crying.

Everything dropped. His smile, his hands to his sides, and his heart.

Your tear filled eyes shot towards him, sleeve of your shirt hurriedly wiping away all evidence of sadness, as you straightened up in your chair and tried to school your features into a more neutral expression. It didn't work, you knew he'd caught you.

The door was closed softly behind him before Copia rushed towards you, bottles of wine abandoned on your coffee table. "Topina, what's wrong?"

You looked away from him as he crouched in front of you, his efforts to get you to meet his gaze ignored. "Nothing, I'm fine."

Despite not thinking it possible, Copia's heart sank even more. He was the reason you were crying. Never before had he despised himself so much. "Please don’t lie to me."

"I'm not." You sniffled, hating how your voice cracked slightly. It wasn't helping your case. "I just- really, I'm fine."

"It's me who's made you cry." He said it as a statement more than a question and, when you said nothing to disagree with him, he knew he was right. "I wish you would tell me when I upset you. I can always tell but you're so reluctant to just say so."

"Because I know that it's stupid of me to be upset." You huffed, tugging on the sleeves of your shirt.

Copia's gloved hands grabbed yours to stop you from fidgeting. "Why is it stupid?"

You hesitated before answering, looking down at him crouched in front of you. It probably wasn't doing his knees any favours. You wondered how long he'd be able to hold the position for. "You're Papa now and you have important things to be doing, like running this place and spreading our message or whatever."

He held back a laugh at the use of 'or whatever' and said nothing to allow you to keep talking.

"But I-" You cut yourself off with a frown. "I want you to..."

A frown settled over Copia's face too as you trailed off. "What? What do you want?"

"I want you to make time for me. Selfishly." Your teeth clicked shut as the confession spilled. No turning back now. "I'm lonely and I miss you."

It was nothing he hadn't already guessed but hearing you say it out loud was a whole different matter. The guilt of it that had been slowly eating away at him since his promotion to Papa, that had dragged him away from you on too many occasions, solidified itself.

"Topina-"

You cut him off. "And I hate feeling like I'm being scheduled in. I want you to spend time with me because you want to. Not because you feel you have to. And not because you have a spare hour or two with nothing else to occupy you."

His heart shattered. "That's what you think this is?"

How had he managed to turn years of friendship, years of undying devotion to one another, into something that you thought was an obligation for him?

You shrugged and looked away from him. "When was the last time we spent any spontaneous time together? Everything is precisely coordinated to fit into your Papal duties."

His nostrils flared with his own effort to restrain tears. "Topina, there is nothing in this world I treasure more than you and our friendship. All that I do now as Papa is because I have to. You have always been a want. I want to make time for you. I want to spend time with you. You understand?"

You nodded slowly but he could see you weren't quite buying it.

"I know things are different now that I'm no longer just a Cardinal but please don't ever think for a second that I value you any less than I used to. Maybe I even value you more now for managing to put up with my ridiculous schedule, hehe." Copia chuckled in an attempt to lighten the mood, stomach flipping when you let the smallest smile break out. "I'm sorry for how I've been treating you. It makes my chest ache to see you like this and to know I'm the cause of it."

He couldn't quite remember the last time he'd seen you cry. It wasn't a common thing, that was for sure.

"I will do everything in my power to make it up to you. Starting with-" He pointed over his shoulder with a thumb. "-two bottles of wine for tonight."

Your eyes widened briefly. You hadn't had time to wonder why he was back in your office after leaving only an hour previously. "Tonight? But I thought you-"

He cut you off with a wave of his hand. "Cancelled. I was so relieved when I found out because it meant I got to come back and spend the evening with you."

"Really?"

"Sì!" He stood up, groaning when his knees made a concerning sound. "Come on, let's begin the night officially. I want to hear everything you've been needing to tell me."

You took his hand with a smile and followed him over to your couch where the two of you sat side by side, your legs thrown over his as you always did. Glasses of wine were poured and all previous upset was forgotten.

You informed him of all the latest Siblings of Sin gossip, Copia let you in on a few clergy secrets. Laughs were exchanged, bottles of wine were drained, a pleasant buzz settled over you both, and the two of you somehow got impossibly closer as the night progressed. It wasn't uncommon for the two of you to be practically cuddling by the end of a long evening so when his arm landed around your shoulders and started tracing patterns up and down the length of your arm you thought nothing of it.

Copia didn't either until you adjusted the positioning of your legs over his and brushed against his crotch with one of your thighs. His breath hitched as all blood rushed straight to his dick. It was a reminder of why he usually limited his wine intake to a single shared bottle with you. It made him horny.

He desperately tried to focus on what you were saying as he hardened in his pants, begging the universe that you wouldn't notice. It didn't help that you were so close to him, when did you get so close, and that his hand was still moving gently over your arm and shoulder.

Firmly trying to remind himself that you were his best friend and that the proximity shouldn't have been making his cock twitch, he reached for a spare cushion and subtly tried to place it over his lap. It worked as you didn't pay any attention and carried on with your story.

Reminder: never bring two bottles of wine to an evening spent with you again.

Convinced he was now in the safe zone, Copia let his head rest against the back of the couch with his face turned towards you so you knew you still had his focus. What he didn't expect was for you to match the position. But instead rest your face against his arm, cheek pressed against his bicep. It also affected the way you were looking at him, eyes angled up to see through your lashes. He felt himself get harder.

Best friend, best friend, best friend.

The thought ran through his head screaming like a headless chicken. Could headless chickens scream? It didn't matter. What did matter was that being wine drunk apparently compelled him to think about what you'd feel like sat on his cock, clenching around his length, the noises you'd make-

His legs jolted up, jostling yours, as he twitched underneath the cushion.

Your head shot up, a look of worry crossing your face. "Are you okay?"

"Me? Oh, hehe, I'm fine." Copia replied through a tight jaw. He was a bad, bad man. "Just tired, I think."

You glanced towards the clock in the corner of the room by your desk. "It is getting late. Maybe we should head to bed."

"Good idea." He nodded enthusiastically, desperate to get away from you and distance his thoughts to something more appropriate. He shouldn't be thinking about fucking you. You were his best friend, his closest confidant. Why was he thinking about fucking you?

Damn wine.

"I've had a good time tonight." You smiled as you stood up from the couch. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you how I was feeling before."

"Me too, topina. And I swear, from now on, you are always my top priority." He shifted slightly, wondering how he was supposed to stand up without you noticing the raging hard on he was sporting.

Your smile softened. "You gonna sit there all night or...?"

"Right, yes." He hesitated before standing up, hands rushing to cover his crotch as he did so, stumbling a little in the sudden movement.

"Woah." You reached out to steady him, a giggle escaping you. "You should handle your wine better than this. You're Italian."

"I handle my wine just fine." He bit back playfully, ignoring the way your hands were grasping onto him and how it had his head swimming. "It's just been a long day."

"Mhm, okay." You nodded, unconvinced. "Come on, I'll walk you back to your room."

"That's not necessary." He said but followed you anyway. He couldn't understand why he was suddenly so sexually drawn to you. It couldn't just be the wine, right? It made him unbelievably horny, sure, but to this extent? And to his best friend no less?

You didn't reply as you started the route back to his dwellings, arm looped through his in an attempt to keep him upright.

Copia watched you out of the corner of his eye the whole way there, wondering when this primal attraction to you had started. It couldn't possibly have only begun that night, so strongly. He thought back on it. He'd never found you unattractive but, for some reason, your relationship had never taken that course. You'd been fast friends and that's the way it always had been. Why was the only thought on his mind now the idea of fucking your brains out?

Must be the wine. Definitely the wine.

Right?

All he knew for sure was that he couldn't wait to get back to his room so he could jerk the unclean thoughts of you away. His mind strayed to the concept of humping a pillow like a dog in heat. It seemed rather appealing, he'd always been a fan of dry humping. He wondered what it'd be like with you-

Stop.

Your voice knocked Copia out of his thoughts as you reached his door. "Do you need me to tuck you into bed or are you good now?"

He should have said he was good. He should have said goodnight. He should not have entertained the idea of you in his room when he was in this state. He should-

"Well, if you're offering." He grinned down at you, hoping to play it off as a joke.

You rolled your eyes at him as you opened his door, a smile tugging on the corners of your mouth. "Okay. Come on, Papa."

He bit down on his tongue at the use of his title. As often as you acknowledged his Papacy, you never directly referred to him as Papa. He'd always just been Copia to you. He liked it that way. His promotion hadn't changed the way you viewed him. But he couldn't deny the feelings that the use of Papa had stirred deep in his abdomen.

You guided Copia into his bedroom and left him to lean against one of the corners of his four poster bed as you started removing all of the decorative pillows from the surface of it.

"How many of these things does one guy need?" You snorted as you plucked another one with a lace trim and discarded it to the other side of the room.

Copia only watched on silently, the heat in his gaze increasing with every passing second. He wanted so desperately to banish the thoughts he was having. But how was he supposed to when you bent over his bed like that and gave him the perfect view of your ass? And why had you chosen to wear those jeans today?

He knew he couldn't have you, couldn't even bring up the subject with you. But what would one night with you be like? Just to get it out of his system. He was sure it was the wine doing all the decision making in his body so one night would surely cure him of all impure thoughts of you. Right?

He snapped out of it when you turned to look at him again, a wide smile brightening your face. It was a big turnaround from the way you'd been looking at him before with tears in your eyes. How bad of a friend was he to be thinking about you like this when only a few hours earlier he'd been making you cry.

"Need your pyjamas or are you too drunk to get changed?" You asked, eyes looking him up and down.

Copia froze when your eyes lingered on his crotch for a second too long. When had his hands stopped covering himself?

But you said nothing, only awaited an answer to your question.

"Not drunk." He mumbled and pushed himself off the pillar towards you. "But I'm fine. Thank you for walking me back. You can go to your own bed now."

Your breathing quickened as he stood only a foot or two in front of you. A dilemma had hit you. You always hugged goodnight. But how were you supposed to do that with the boner he was rocking. Were you even supposed to address it? But he was looking at you so expectantly. Did he even know what his body was doing? Or was he really that drunk?

So you just decided to bite the bullet and extended your arms out to him. Copia let out a visible sigh of relief, that you weren't repulsed by what his body was doing and running a mile away, as he collapsed into your embrace. His face got buried in your neck as his arms wound around your waist. You didn't fail to notice how he kept his pelvis angled slightly away from you. So he was aware.

You continued not to say anything on the matter as you did your usual hug routine of one arm around his shoulders and the other lifted so you could card your fingers through his hair.

Turns out, that was a big mistake.

Copia couldn't help himself. The sensation of your hand stroking through his greying locks and your nails scratching lightly at his scalp had his body going haywire. And you smelt so good. He had no control as his hips bucked forward into yours and a low whine rumbled from his throat.

The two of you froze instantly, bodies going rigid in each other's arms.

You didn't know what to do, mouth hanging open as all possible words escaped you. What you did know was that a twinge of something you'd never felt for him before had rocketed straight through you.

Copia was panicking, he was convinced he would be able to keep his sudden urges to himself. But all it had taken was a measly hug. So he resorted to what he'd been doing all evening. Apologising.

"Shit, I'm sorry. The wine, it makes me-" He paused as he didn't know what word to use.

But you came to his rescue.

"It's okay." You whispered, sliding your arms down and away from him. "You don't need to explain. Alcohol and bodily reactions and all that. It's good."

He pulled away from you and sat on the edge of his bed, sliding a gloved hand down his face. The leather came away marked black and white from his paints. He was beyond caring. "I'm still sorry, topina. It was inappropriate of me. Accept my apologies and promise me we'll never talk of it again."

"Talk of what?" You asked with a half smile, flattening the top of his hair. "Get some sleep. You could probably use it. Sleep off the wine. Goodnight, Copia."

"Goodnight." He huffed in reply, watching carefully as you exited his room and shut the door tightly behind you. He waited only a couple more seconds before grabbing the nearest pillow.

You, on the other hand, stood confused on the other side of his door for a moment. What had just happened? Copia was hard. In front of you. He'd rutted said hard on against you. Albeit briefly but still...

And you hadn't been entirely opposed to it.

You shook off the thought and started to make your way back to your room. However, you didn't get very far when you were stopped in your tracks by a dull thud and the sound of your best friend shrieking.

Instantly, you turned on your heel and practically ran straight back to his room. You were shocked to find, once you'd opened his door again, him sprawled on the floor and desperately grinding against a pillow.

"Oh." You breathed out, unable to move. It was like someone had glued your feet to the carpet. And fixed your eyes in place so you could only stare at him. "I heard you fall and I- I'm sorry."

That caught his attention as he suddenly stopped moving and tilted his head back to look at you. "Topina!"

"I shouldn't- shouldn't-"

Shouldn't what? You didn't know.

Copia looked at you with panic in his eyes as he stood up again. When had he fallen on the floor? "I'm fine. Sorry you had to see that."

Sorry?

"You don't need to be sorry." The twinge of something you'd felt before had returned. This time a lot stronger. And suddenly all rational thought was leaving you. "Do you want some help?"

It felt like his world suddenly crashed down around him. And all that was left was you.

Help? You couldn't possibly mean...

You saw the disbelief in his eyes so decided to clarify. "I'm suggesting we dry hump like horny teenagers, Copia."

Correction: you were his world.

What friend would suggest such a thing? You, apparently.

"You want to do that?" He asked hoarsely.

"Unless you're finding the pillow satisfactory." You glanced towards the rumpled item in question, still on the floor.

"No. I would much rather prefer a warm body."

"My warm body?" You questioned with a slightly teasing tone. "You seemed to like it a couple of minutes ago."

He felt himself blush at the reminder. "If you're offering."

The statement reflected one he'd said not long ago, when you'd suggested tucking him into bed. He couldn't believe how the night had turned out.

"Sit against your headboard." You instructed, shutting his door behind you and locking it for your own peace of mind. You highly doubted anyone was about to waltz into his bedroom at this hour but you'd rather not risk it. You didn't need anyone catching what you were about to do.

Copia didn't need to be told twice, practically jumping onto his bed and getting into position. He could feel himself burning with desire for you. A desire that was about to be fulfilled.

You took a deep breath as you looked at him, so eagerly waiting, before making your way over to him. "This is a one time thing. We don't speak about it again. Okay?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "Okay."

You paused at his bedside for a moment, wondering whether he'd considered this before judging on his reaction to the scenario, then crawled onto the bed and towards him. You kicked off your shoes and settled into a kneeling position next to him.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" You asked, needing to make sure he was certain of the decision.

"Sì, are you?" He eyed you hungrily and impatiently.

The look in his eyes sent a burning sensation straight to the base of your belly. "I'm sure."

You scooted closer to him, accepting an outstretched hand to balance yourself as you swung one of your legs over him and settled yourself down onto his lap. He was rock hard beneath you.

Copia hissed as you settled your weight against him, hands flying to your waist to steady you. "This may not last as long as you think, topina."

"Pity, I expected a man of your age to not be a two pump chump." You smirked and shifted yourself minutely, revelling in the groan he let out. "Are you always like this when you're horny or is it the wine?"

He licked his bottom lip as he stalled his answer. "I can be... desperate and needy. The wine is making it worse, I think. Should stick to one bottle in future."

Your mind whirled at the thought of him being desperate and needy. You wondered if you could get him in that state tonight. "Need you to guide me to what feels good. Not sure how you want me."

Copia wanted you in all kinds of ways. He didn't say that aloud though. "I assure you anything you do will feel good. I am focusing right now on not coming with you just sat on top of me."

"Oh." Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "The wine really got you wound up, didn't it?"

"The wine, yes." He replied as his hands slid down to your hips, tugging you to rock against him. The friction of that one simple movement caused his mouth to drop open in pleasure. He really wasn't lasting long tonight.

You watched in amusement as his eyes screwed shut when you did it again of your own accord. Shifting slightly, you tried to find a good angle for you. As fun as it was to watch him enjoy himself, you couldn't help but notice that not a whole lot was happening for you. You were sure if you moved your hips just right you'd find the seam in your jeans and you'd reach ecstasy as you ground yourself against him.

"Topina, slow down. Fuck." Copia's hands gripped your hips tightly to stop you from moving.

You hadn't realised that in all your searching for your own pleasure, you'd been giving him his. "Shit, sorry. Just trying to find a good position."

He frowned. "Is this not good for you?"

You shrugged. "Jeans are making it difficult to feel much. They're pretty thick."

His hands ran up and down your denim clad thighs, squeezing softly at the flesh beneath his finger tips, as he pondered something. "Take them off."

"Copia, I-" You cut yourself off when you noticed the way his eyes were trained on the movements of his hands over your thighs. "Do you want me to take them off?"

He glanced up at you. "I want you to do whatever is going to make you feel good as well."

"I'm doing this to help you." You croaked, not even believing it yourself anymore.

He shook his head. "Not helpful unless you enjoy yourself too."

That was all it took to have you rolling away from him and kicking your jeans off of your legs as quickly as possible and then settling yourself back over him, this time with only your underwear left in the way.

Copia's hands returned to your thighs, squeezing the bare skin now instead. "Try now."

So you did.

"Fuck me." You gasped, hands flying to grip his shoulders. You hadn't anticipated the texture of his pants, the fancy lace up and stylish wear and tear, and what that would feel like. It was like they were built for this.

"Feels better now." He beamed at you, not needing a confirmation of any sort since the way your face had scrunched up was proof enough.

"You can never wear these around me again now." You grumbled, gesturing at his pants. "Will make me horny."

"Is that such a bad thing?" He teased, snaking an arm around your waist to guide your movements. "Only if you promise not to wear those jeans around me."

You looked at him questioningly.

"Make your ass look good." He grunted, rocking your hips against his even harder.

"You were looking at my ass?"

"Guilty." A choked groan escaped his mouth. "It is not a regular thing, I assure you."

The retort you had planned died on your lips and was replaced by a strangled cry as he bucked up underneath you. You buried your face against his shoulder with a whimper of his name. "Copia."

His eyes rolled back at the sound of his name sounding like that coming from your mouth. "I know, topina, I know. Feels good, doesn't it?"

"Un-fucking-believable." You sighed, picking up the pace of your rolling hips.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, depraved noises escaping you both as your bodies moved in rhythm with each other.

Copia's arm was locked around you, the other firm on one of your thighs, squeezing occasionally. He could feel himself edging dangerously close to release. But he wanted you to come first. "Need you to come for me, topina. What's going to get you there, hm?"

Your head turned so your face was against his neck as you whined. "Talk to- fuck- talk to me."

"And what would you like me so say? How you feel so perfect rubbing yourself against me right now? That you're my perfect topina?" He chuckled when you mewled. "Oh, you liked that."

"Fuck." You gasped. "Yes, yes."

The grinding of your hips became desperate, almost feral, as you neared closer to your orgasm quicker than you ever had done before.

"Was it being called perfect? Or being called mine?" Copia mused, having to pause his thoughts for a second as he could feel himself practically throbbing beneath you. "Fuck, you really are perfect at this."

The way he said it, the tone of his voice, the breathlessness of it, had you toppling over the edge. Your pelvis bucked a few more times, chasing the high, as your mouth formed around a silent scream against the skin of his neck.

Copia took that as his queue to let loose, wildly rutting up underneath you for a minute before his own orgasm hit. He couldn't even find it in himself to regret the mess he'd made in his pants. It was worth it.

He instantly relaxed beneath you, accepting the full weight of your body as the afterglow had left you in a state of not being able to hold yourself up anymore. Copia's gloved fingers danced up and down the length of your back, soothing you.

When you finally sat up again, hands planted firmly on his chest to support yourself, you looked content. Copia was glad you weren't suddenly freaking out.

"Thanks for the orgasm, buddy." You patted him gently on the chest before standing up onto shaky legs.

Copia chuckled. Buddy? "I should be thanking you. I was sentenced to a night with my pillow until you offered to help."

"It was mutually beneficial." You assured him as you tugged your jeans up your legs. "Now we just never speak of it again."

"Sì, sì." Copia knew he was going to have trouble with that. "You can stay the night if you want."

You glanced at him. "We've already crossed one line tonight. Let's not cross any others."

He didn't point out how you'd shared a bed before and it hadn't meant anything. But he didn't want to push you. "If you're sure."

"I am." Slipping your shoes back onto your feet, you looked at him. "You should definitely get some rest now."

"I will, topina." He replied softly.

You straightened up and placed your hands on your hips. "Well, I'm done here so... see you around."

Copia shook his head with a laugh and corrected you. "See you tomorrow."

"Really?" You looked hopeful.

"Sì. I was being sincere when I said you are my priority. I will make more time for you, I promise." He moved to the edge of his bed and beckoned you over. When you approached him he cupped your chin in a gloved hand. "My topina, bestest friend in the world."

You giggled at his phrasing. "I can accept that title."

Of being the bestest friend in the world? Or of being his?

"Goodnight, Copia." You planted a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth.

It caught him off guard. But not in an unpleasant way. In fact, he found he rather liked it. "Goodnight."

He watched on fondly as you slipped out of his room and disappeared into the night. Collapsing backwards onto his bed, Copia wondered how he was going to manage never mentioning tonight to you again.

A/N: Second Copia dry humping fic. Apologies for the slight repeat but I think about it a lot when it comes to him…

[mattsdolll]

𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 - 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 . . ୨୧

childish!reader x softbf!matt

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 . . matt healing his girls inner child, helping her through a lazy day, taking care of her. proofread!! (i think) pouty/childish reader, no smut, pure fluff, cuddling, kissing etc, this is kinda short but i'll work on doing longer works soon. i’ve had this idea for so so long and i finally decided to write it ! its been lurking in my drafts for tooo long now (2 days) this is my first time writing something and actually posting it, im literally terrified

1.2k words

enjoy🤍

you had been laying in your soft white sheets the entire day, you read a few pages of the book you were reading, a poetic romance novel, taylor swift interludes playing softly in the background. you flipped through the pages mindlessly. you grew somewhat bored, setting the book down, tugging your bookmark between the pages. you closed your eyes in attempt to fall asleep until you received a text from your boyfriend asking if he could come over, he missed you. you replied with a simple text telling him you were going to shower first, you had no plans, after all. at least this got you out of bed, one of the few times this week. you got up, padding across the wooden floor sluggishly to the bathroom, after a long much needed shower, you threw on a pair of grey sweats, a white tank top and uggs. you brushed through your wet hair. you glossed your lips, curling your eyelashes. you felt incomplete without those simple steps to your routine.

you had spent the past week decaying in bed, you hadn’t seen anyone in ages, you barely even spoke to anyone except matt, he was checking up on you 24/7, making sure you were okay. you were deep in thought until your phone buzzed.

“i’m on my way, see you in 10”

you laid back in your bed, a gentle sigh left your lips, an inappreciable pout forming as you waited not so patiently for matt to arrive. your vision soon grew hazy, the ceiling distorting. not long after your eyelids fell shut, despite your great efforts to fight it off, falling into a deep sleep.

matt tossed a plain black hoodie over his body, creased navy plaid pajama pants and air forces, he picked up his keys and drove to your apartment. he noticed your windows were open, a sign you were home. he knocked on your door lightly but there was no answer. he hesitated before letting himself in, finding you asleep, entangled in your sheets. he smiled at you in awe of how peaceful you looked.

you were enjoying your sleep, that was until you felt a weight sink into the bed next to you, you opened your eyes, met with your boyfriend laying next to you, your sheets tucked over your tired body and your favorite bear plushie snug under your arms. he smiled down at you. “hi sweetheart” he whispered softly, kissing your head, you had forgotten he had a spare key to your apartment.

“matt?” you mumble softly, to which he smiles, bringing you closer as you crawl onto his clothed chest, you look at him for reassurance to lay down, to which he nods. you feel at peace, he provides a familiar sense of solace as your body sinks down into him. “'course princess, c'mere..” he mumbles, letting you bury your face in the space between his collarbone and neck “how was your day? have you eaten yet?” he peppered gentle kisses onto your face before making contact with your lips, he kissed you softly, just a light peck. you lean into his lips before he separates us, i nod to his question. “hii..i missed you baby, i ate noodles, and my day was fine, just sleepy” you half whisper, half mutter, your brain still hazy. you were unable to recall what you did today aside from passing out. he lifted you onto his lap a bit more, sitting you both up.

“just fine?” he questioned softly, a frown apparent on his lips, you could tell he was worried about you. “d’you wanna maybe go watch a movie? i’ll make us something to eat, we can lay on the couch, yeah?” he kissed your nose a few times, scratching your back “mhm, i’d like that” you mumble softly, he stands up, moving you off of him, you pout, putting your arms up to be carried, to which he obviously obliges, he cups your thighs in his palms, lifting you off the bed as he walks you to the living room, you wrap your legs around his waist, laying your head into his shoulder. he sets you down on the kitchen counter, laying a gentle kiss to your head, grabbing the rigatoni pasta out of your cupboard. you watched him begin cooking, in awe of your boyfriends aspects, his brown curls hanging delicately over his forehead, his eyes soft yet enthralled on the pasta. you got bored of just sitting there, you got off the counter and walked your way to him, hugging around his waist

“matty ‘m boredd” you whined, your glossed lips forming a pout, your brown locks laid over your shoulders, batting your eyelashes at him in the hopes he’d show you attention. he looked at you as if you were the most precious thing on this earth, to him, you really were. "princess i'm busy cooking, can't give you attention right now..why don't you sit on the counter here so you can watch me cook and we can talk about your day, hm?" he says softy, you shimmy your way up onto the counter and begin telling him every detail of your day, despite not having done much.

matt picked you up once he finished cooking and sat you down on the couch, he grabbed two bowls of pasta and set it on the coffee table in front of you. he sat down, matt gently hugged around your waist, putting on your favorite barbie movie: barbie in a mermaid tale, he knew how much you loved it, despite how childish it seemed, he would always tease you for it yet he would sit through the entire movie every single time, just to make you happy. he smiled down at you.

you always had ribbons scattered all over your place, in your room, the living room, your drawers, they were everywhere, he grabbed a pretty pink ribbon and laced it in your curls, tying your hair in a loose ponytail, he made sure to tie a bow too, just the way you liked it “my pretty girl.” he whispered, peppering kisses on you. he laid you down on the couch, carefully laying on top of you, pressing gentle kisses to your lips over and over, mumbling sweet nothings into your ear. you hum into his mouth, savoring his lips. he dipped his lips back into yours, kissing you lovingly. you felt his hand intertwine with yours, softly lacing your fingers together and holding them slightly above your head. “i love you, sweet girl.” he whispered, caressing your face, bringing your hair behind your ears. “i love you too, so much.” you whispered back.

after the movie, he carried you to your bathroom, setting you on the counter, he got between your legs and put your pink headband on your head to keep your hair out of your face, you just let him, he always did this kind of thing for you. he grabbed your cleanser, washing your face for you, he grabbed a towel to pat your face dry. “my gorgeous girl" he whispered, half to himself, he adored your bare face, he adored you, with or without makeup. he finished up and took you back to your bed, he tugged his hoodie off, along with his shirt, he kicked his shoes off and climbed into bed, he let you change into pajama shorts and the same white tank top, you laid on his bare chest, snuggling into his body. you soon fell asleep to his touch, scratching through your hair, it soothed you to sleep. "goodnight, angel. i love you" were the last words you heard before dozing off, you couldn't ask for a better boyfriend.

. . .

tags: @mattscoquette

[shadesslut]

𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻 DAY 5

Knife/Blood Play

(a/n: Sorry for the late post! I'll try to catch up but I have a lot of schoolwork:/)

MINORS DNI

Pairing: (Gf!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader)

Content Includes: (Knife play, blood play, handjob, smut)

Main Masterlist

𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

🦇

🦇

🦇

Ethan knew he was weird, he knew that. He knew he liked certain things people would avoid or be afraid of. Ethan knew his hobby wasn’t normal, and that he wasn’t normal. 

It was Halloween night in New York, teens clad in werewolf and vampire masks. Ethan was hiding in plain sight. He wore his Ghostface attire as he rode on the elevator. His hands were bloody, and his mask splashed with red stains. No one batted an eye to him, it was just a costume right?

He knocked loudly with a clenched fist on the door. Y/N had invited him over tonight to have dinner and watch scary movies. 

The door opened, creaking on its hinges as it did so. Y/N had a maroon button-up long sleeve, orange and black plaid shorts, and knee-high knitted socks. 

“Nice costume,” she complimented him as she looked him up and down. He tilted his head down at her. She scoffed before stepping aside to let him in. 

Ethan shut the door behind him, his fingers still twitching from earlier that night. 

“You look good,” Ethan lowly said. She went back into her small kitchen, lifting a pot lid to check on the water. 

“‘Good’?” 

“Pretty.” Ethan corrected. “I’m hungry,” 

She dryly chuckled as she shook her head. “I’m making potato soup.” 

Ethan grabbed the bottom of his mask, sliding it off his head. Beads of sweat dripped from his hair to his forehead. He walked up behind her, his head hovering over her shoulder. “Not that kind of hungry,” he whispered, his lips dangerously close to her skin. 

Her breath hitched, but she waved him off. “Not before we eat,” She told him. 

He groaned, stepping backwards to lean on the counter. 

“You wanna help me?” She asked. She ripped open a mesh bag of potatoes and began to wash them. Ethan watched her as her thumbs swiped across the potato skin under the water. 

“What do you need me to do?”  

“Can you start cooking the bacon?” She asked as she brought the clean potatoes to her cutting board. Ethan nodded, and he went for the fridge. The sound of a knife sharpening caused Ethan to jerk his head towards her. She swiped the knife’s blade with her fingers. 

Oh fuck me. Ethan thought. 

She grabbed one of the potatoes with her left hand, and she held the knife above it. She started at the end, piercing in the middle with the knife. She slightly slid the knife forwards, and then she went down the middle, cutting it in half.

Ethan didn’t move, his hand freezing on the fridge handle. His eyes were focused on her hands as she cut. How could someone be so precise with a knife? So delicate with their movements? So careful? Ethan’s eyes watered barely, and his cock twitched in his pants. How would she handle cutting skin? Would she be as gentle as she was now? 

She chopped perpendicularly of her previous cut, chopping the potato into cubes. She did a few more potatoes, and when she finished she slid them off with her knife into the boiling water. 

Ethan tried to hold it back, but he accidentally let out a moan. 

Her hands froze as she looked over to Ethan with wide eyes. His face instantly flushed under her gaze. 

She lightly chucked, breaking the tension in the air. “You, you okay?” She asked, her voice lacing with concern. Ethan nodded. 

“Just been waiting for you all night,” he half-lied. She smiled sweetly. “Can I ask a weird question?” 

“Go ahead,” 

“Promise you won’t judge?”

“I promise.”

Ethan took a breath, and he decided to just go for it. “Can you give me a handjob?” 

She stared at him for a moment, before doubling over in a laughing fit. “Ethan, that's not bad, and yes, yes I can.” She smirked. 

Ethan gulped. 

“Can you also hold the knife up to my throat?” 

Her laughing stopped. She stared at him for a moment, searching for any sign of sarcasm. “What?” She asked once she realized he wasn’t making a joke. 

“I just think it’d be hot? You know, like how you think it’s hot when I choke you?” 

“What if I accidentally cut you?” 

He shrugged his shoulders in response. The water boiling was the only noise filling the room. He couldn’t be serious right? Obviously, he was making some kind of joke with her. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said it-” 

“I’ll do it.” She cut him off. His eyes flicked up to hers as they widened. 

He tried to hold back a smile. “Really?” He asked, hopefully. She slowly nodded, and she walked towards the sink to wash the knife. Ethan swallowed nervously as his hands stimmed in excitement. 

She turned around with the knife in her hand as she tried it with a rag. “Take off your clothes.” She demanded. Ethan’s movements stuttered at first, his hands shaking as he bent down to reach the end of his robe. Swiftly, he raised it over his head along with his shirt. Y/N slowly walked towards him, tossing the rag to the ground. Ethan’s smile widened as he watched her fingertip trace the end of the knife, all the way to the tip. 

“You’re so hot,” Ethan moaned. Y/N smiled. She set the knife down on the counter before unzipping Ethan’s pants. Ethan slid the jeans down, not caring about them as they dropped to his ankles. 

Knife back in her hand, she carefully dragged the tip of the knife near his v-line. She made sure to not press as hard to avoid cutting him. What she didn’t know was that Ethan begged her to cut him in his head. 

She tilted her head up at Ethan and parted her lips. Ethan slightly bent down for her, giving her access to kiss him. Their kiss was slow, but heated. The knife was now pressed flat against Ethan’s stomach, and her other hand reached in his boxers. 

He moaned into the kiss, his cold hand grasping his cock. 

“You’re such a fucking loser,” she whispered, making Ethan’s cock twitch in her hand. “Getting off by me holding a knife to your skin. You’re disgusting.”

Ethan’s eyes shut, a whine coming from his lips. Her hand slowly slid up his cock, her grip tightening as it moved. She dragged the knife up over his belly button, up to his chest. Ethan shivered looking down as he watched the knife get closer to his chin. 

“Mm fuck,” Ethan moaned softly. His chest rose up and down, slighting pressing against the knife. Her hand quickened as she twisted it up and down on his shaft. Precum spilled down her thumb, lubing up the rest of him. She lifted the knife up to his neck, and Ethan’s eyes widened. Never had he ever been this turned on in his nineteen years of living. His hips jerked up, and his hand tightly gripped at her hip. 

“Y/N, please,” 

He snaked his hand around her ass, firmly groping. She flinched at the touch, causing the knife to press against Ethan’s neck. The knife punctured some of his skin, barely, and a few drops of blood dripped down his neck. Ethan felt himself get closer and closer to the edge. 

She finally saw the blood drip down, and she instantly stopped all her movements. “Shit! Are you okay?” She asked with concern, moving to grab a towel. Ethan’s grip tightened on her, pulling her back to him.

“Don’t you dare fucking stop.” He spoke lowly as his eyes darkened. She gulped and nodded in response. He let out a sigh of relief as she started to jerk him off again. Her grip on the knife wasn’t as sturdy as before, but Ethan didn’t care. 

Ethan swiped two fingers shakily across the blood, catching it onto his skin. He smeared it across his lips, and pulled Y/N closer to him. He came in her hand as he smashed his lips onto hers. She dropped the knife, it clattering onto the floor. Her hands came up to grip his face, his cum sticking to his cheek. 

His blood smudged against her face, staining her lips and chin. Harshly, he bit on her bottom lip, causing her to squeal in pain. Blood trickled from her lip, and Ethan sucked it all up. 

She pulled away, applying pressure to her lip with her fingers. 

Ethan panted as he stared hungrily down at her.

“That was,” she trailed off, shame bubbling inside of her.

“Fucking hot.”

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

something tells me our ghoulie would be fond of period sex (i’ll go to horny jail now)

Bloodletting

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader

Word Count: 2,839

Warnings: smut (18+), blood play, bloody cunnilingus/bloody kisses, period sex, masturbation (male), rough sex, creampie, biting.

Notes: Can't lie, this was my immediate thought watching him tear into that bloody chunk of meat for the first time. I usually try to include at least a little plot, but this is basically all porn. Very fun submission to write; thank you! Please save a good seat for me on the bench in horny jail, I'll be in promptly.

Fun fact: orgasms can help relieve period cramps for some people.

Today had been a poor choice of start point for this long walk.

Normally, trekking across the bombed out western seaboard was strenuous and uncomfortable enough, the deadly sun baking seemingly the entire planet to a crisp, the cloying dehydration, the constant danger that something or someone was around the corner, ready to eat you. It was a far cry from the safety and monotony of the vault you'd grown up in. Usually, you were able to find lots of beauty on the surface, plenty of things to appreciate. But right now everything was just awful and uncomfortable.

Menstruation was such a nightmare topside. The proper products were apparently incredibly difficult to find anymore, leaving you to make the best of things with old torn pieces of clothing and less-than-ideal medical supplies. But these things didn't provide the absorption you'd long been accustomed to, and you kept having accidents the last few days, the result of a heavier-than-average flow. Normally, these things wouldn't bother you, but it was insanely annoying to constantly feel as if you were bleeding through basically the only clothes you had, doubly so when there was no place to clean them or bathe yourself most of the time. Besides, these pants chaffed terribly when they were damp.

Months back, you'd made the choice to ditch the vault suit. It was surreal and sort of sad feeling, packing away what had truly been a symbol of your identity for so long. However, it attracted far too much attention and caused trouble when people assumed they could take advantage of you, so you'd opted to start dressing like a proper Wastelander, boiled leather armor and denim pants. Right now, however, you desperately wished you'd been wearing the suit. The absorbent liner would have saved you some of this embarrassment.

The old ghoul had been telling you some story or another as you mounted a steep hill, your mind tuning in and out in frustration. You were sweaty, cramping, bloated, and bleeding on yourself, and all you wanted was a chance to clean yourself up and sit down for a minute. Eventually, the two of you came across what looked to be the abandoned skeleton of an old repair garage, just barely maintaining its tall stance against the horizon. As the two of you began to pass it by, you paused.

"I need to stop for a bit." you said, frowning at him as he turned his gaze to the position of the sun in the sky and back to you, confusion plain on his face.

"Whassa' matter?" he asked, "You're not usually this pussy about the sun anymore. Been long enough."

He was right, you were usually able to soldier on better than this. Today wasn't one of those days, though.

"I need like ten minutes alone, okay?" you snapped, short of patience. "I just...need it."

Your companion held up his hands in a silent, play-offended gesture of surrender, stepping aside to let you walk into the ramshackle little garage.

"Ten minutes!" he called teasingly behind you, prompting you to roll your eyes despite him not being able to see it.

Dropping your bag against the wall, you quickly toed your boots off so you could shuck your pants to the ground, groaning quietly at the bloody mess between your thighs. Digging some dirty rags out of your bag, you checked the spare canteen you kept undrinkable water in. Almost empty. You wanted to cry.

You could always ask Coop for some of his, since he was prone to drinking from questionable sources. He might even give you some, close as you'd become lately, thanks to a night of whiskey and Jet by the fire that had led to other forms of entertainment.

But you'd rather not have to explain this to him. As you did your best to scrub away the rusty red covering your skin, you wondered if he even remembered that this was something that happened to women. You had no idea what you were going to do with your pants.

Apparently, time had slipped away from you, as he appeared suddenly in the doorway a moment or two later, already speaking to you like he'd been standing there the entire time.

"It's been fifteen minutes, girlie. I'll have you know--" came his halted snark, quickly cut off as the two of you made eye contact, as he took in your nakedness below the waist. You felt a creeping sense of panic, a desire to flee out the broken window to your side. Neither of you said a word, and after a moment, he stepped forward towards you, softly gripping your wrist in his hand and holding it up to examine it. His honeyed eyes flicked back and forth between the soiled rag in your bloodied hand and where you'd been attempting to clean yourself up, briefly moving over to where your pants lay crumpled up on the floor.

"I'm--" you began, wanting to explain that you were fine, but you were quickly and decisively cut off from speaking when he lifted your bloody fingers to his mouth, sucking them between his lips with an obscene sigh. Your jaw fell slack as you watched him lick them clean, feeling like you were having some sort of erotic fever dream you'd wake up from any moment. Your hormones must've been working in tandem with the sun to drive you crazy.

However, it only continued to escalate as he seized you by the wrist, dragging you a few feet forward towards the rickety, grimy couch that leaned against the back wall, shoving you just enough to make you sit right in the center, a stale plume of desert dust filling the air around you as he rucked your hips up against his chest, your calves hooking over his shoulders. One of your flailing, still-socked feet knocked his hat clear off his head, sending it tumbling down to the floor, but he didn't even seem to notice, too preoccupied with running his hands along your inner thighs, smearing through the patches of drying blood there with fascination.

Your whole face burned white-hot, but you continued to watch him closely as his hands converged at your mound, one thumb tracing lightly over your now-swollen slit, just barely grazing your bud and drawing a hiss from between your teeth. However, instead of touching you there again, as you'd hoped he would, both thumbs traced down the line of your labia, parting them softly and spreading you open for his hungry eyes to see.

This new kind of attention made you squirm a bit at its intensity, the movement making your abdominal muscles clench just right to draw a trickle of warmth from between your legs, your face reaching supernova in embarrassment, but before you could pull away, he dove forward, his mouth sealing itself over your cunt and lapping wildly. The feeling was electric and ticklish and sent you clamoring to grab onto anything for leverage, letting out a screech that was half giggle and half moan.

He had done this before, gone down between your legs and licked and tasted and teased you until you couldn't handle it anymore, and always with great enthusiasm (and more than a little smugness, frankly), but never with a hunger like this. His thick tongue traced back and forth along your folds, seeking out every sanguine drop before dipping back down to your entrance, the wriggling muscle slipping inside with ease, drawing out another cry from you.

You were on fire, being teased more than you could handle; his tongue felt amazing, but largely avoided where you really wanted it to be, leaving you pushing and grinding your hips against his face as best as you could in your strange, folded over position. With one proper swivel, you managed to brush your clit against the bony ridge that sat at the top of where his nose would have been, scraping just right and sending you bucking right back at the same angle. The rough way you pushed against him was met by his hands curling under your ass, attempting to yank you even closer to his face as you felt that knot in your gut begin to tighten.

"Oh god, Coop, I'm gonna cum." you gasped, nails digging into his scalp as your thighs pulsed around his head. The older man, typically quite silent for most of the performance, let out a rather loud groan at that, and the sound was enough to push you right into a tense, crying orgasm, your little mewls ringing off the ancient concrete walls. If he were any other man, you'd worry about smothering him between your damp thighs, your scrambling hands pressing into the back of his head.

Fortunately, Cooper Howard wasn't just any man.

He continued to fuck you with his tongue through your climax, dragging it out for what felt like minutes. However, once you finally came down from that euphoric peak, he didn't stop, his tongue continuing to slather across you in full, wide strokes, his fingers moving up to tease at your oversensitive clit.

This, too, he had done before, this beautiful torture of keeping you constantly on the verge of a new orgasm despite still riding the wave of your current one. You both loved and hated it, feeling like every nerve in your body was alive with electricity, but simultaneously on the verge of pain from all the sensation. Presently, you loved it a lot more than you hated it, feeling the tight, cramping muscles in your belly relax just a little with your release. Glimpsing down at him once more, you could see that he'd tugged his hard cock free from its confines, jerking himself enthusiastically.

The ghoul's lips wrapped back around your clit, long, nimble fingers probing your saliva-slicked entrance. Two of them slid inside to the hilt before you even really registered their presence, causing you to hiss at the slight burn of the rad-rough flesh against your sensitive insides. The suction on your bud soothed the burn, allowing you to relax, and soon a third was added alongside the first two, quickly pushing you into another sudden and intense climax, washing over you like a tidal wave as he stretched you. When he eventually pulled his hand away, it was half-covered in red.

You were still trembling hard as he quickly worked his way back down your thighs, swiping up anything he may have missed. The sensation of his tongue running along your plush flesh made you giggle, earnest and breathless, but the sound was immediately cut off with a whine when he suddenly turned and viciously sunk his teeth into the meat of your inner thigh, not hard enough to break the skin, but damn near.

This, he had never done before.

Of course, you knew the man was intimately familiar with sinking his teeth into human flesh, but feeling them against you didn't frighten you as you expected it might, the sensation exhilarating and primal. The searing, pinching pain made you squeal, and one of his ungloved hands jammed up against your lips to silence you, filling your nose with the smell of iron and gunpowder. Come the morning, you'd be sporting a gnarly bruise there. The knowledge sent another hot tremble down your spine.

Unlatching his jaw from your leg, he pulled himself up to his full kneeling height, right even with you, a wild look in his eyes you weren't sure you'd seen before. So often he had the brim of his hat to obscure them, but now they stared, wide and glassy, into your own.

His fingers fisted into the already wild hair at the back of your head, pulling your forward into a passionate, metallic-tasting kiss. You could feel the way your face attempted to stick to his where he'd smeared your blood around your mouth with his hand. Quickly, he began to lean forward over you, pressing you into the mildew covered cushions as he pulled himself on top of you. The dry-rotted frame of the couch groaned loudly in protest at the additional weight, squeaking and sighing out curses as he repositioned your legs along his hips, falling right into place to rub his throbbing prick against you. Another throaty noise left you, strangled and awkward, but you were past being able to be embarrassed right now.

It distracted you just enough when the old cowboy dropped his head into the crook of your neck, his lips dancing along your pulse point, that you didn't tense when he pushed his way inside you, burying himself nearly to the hilt in one push. Both of you let out soft, satisfied groans as you stretched taut around him, clenching hotly already after all the attention he'd given you, his heavy breathing in your ear making every hair on your body stand on end.

For a short moment, he allowed you to adjust to his girth, warm hands pushing your shirt up to expose your breasts to him. His bare hands felt like they were everywhere, swiping affectionately against your face, tugging and pinching at your nipples, eventually settling into your hair, holding your head steady and forcing you to look at him as he began to fuck you. It didn't take long before he had you built right back up, the rub of his pelvic bone against you too good.

"Go on, gimme one more, baby. I know you can." he huffed, his warm breath tickling you just right. His thumb was suddenly strumming against your puffy, sore clit again, and tears brimmed in your eyes as your muscles seized once again, whimpering almost pitifully as you gave him what he wanted.

"Attagirl." he praised, running the blunted edge of his teeth along your throat as your body tugged at him. Your breathing was hard to control, making you see spots as he shifted your calves back over his shoulders, basically folding you in half once more as he pulled himself up higher and began to rut into you in earnest. The blunt head of his cock slammed into your tender cervix like this, making you jump and whine, but your legs only tightened around his shoulders, pulling him closer as he used your body to get himself off.

Suddenly, there was a loud crack, and the entire couch frame collapsed into a plume of dust, even worse than before, making you screech in shock. Cooper, however, seemed to barely notice, his pace not even slowing as he shifted you a few inches away from a busted 2x4 sticking out in your direction, pressing you harder into the cushions that were now trapped beneath you. Nevertheless, he did seem to be making sure you were okay in his own way, his wild eyes and insistent hands checking over every visible inch as he continued to pump between your thighs. When he dropped his mouth to your breasts, you throbbed around him, cooing as he sucked and nipped at your breasts.

"Fuck." he growled at the sensation, his hips slapping against you even harder, but in less coordinated strokes, his head heavily dropping back into the crook of your neck again, his entire weight resting on you now.

As you felt him begin to throb inside you, signaling his own release, you also felt those strong teeth latch onto the sensitive skin where your neck met your shoulder, digging deep into the smooth muscle as you screamed. You could hear your lover groaning loudly as he gave you a few more rough strokes, his teeth keeping firm at your neck as he pulsed every last drop of himself inside you. Beyond the pinching pain repeating itself, you could feel the burn of him sucking hard on the flesh between his teeth, trying to mark you up as visibly as possible. Remarkably, this was enough to push your oversensitive body into one last muted orgasm, leaving you shuddering against his chest.

Once his teeth released you, his strong arms wrapped around your body, carefully flipping you so that you laid across his chest, the leather of his clothing sticking eagerly to your sweaty skin. No one said anything for a few minutes, his fingers dancing along your spine, tracing the outline of the bite on your shoulder and earning a small whimper, which he chuckled at. Things were strangely blissful.

"Yeah, I think I'm gonna need another fifteen minutes, boss." you sighed eventually, snuggling your face against the smooth leather of his vest and breathing in the smell of violence and sex.

"You can have ten." he responded, drawing a look from you until the hand that had been kneading away at your ass cheek slipped down further, rough fingers teasing at your abused entrance once more, pushing what was leaking out of you back inside.

"Oh? And what happens then?" you asked, trying hard to keep your hips still against his sinful hand and failing.

"Then we're going again."

[hiitsm]

Sharing the Weight of Fears

Part 1.

You and Alexia navigate a tender moment when you reveal a worrying change in your health.

Angst, Fluff & Comfort.

-

You absentmindedly traced the seams of your Barcelona Femení jersey as you sat in the doctor's waiting room, heart pounding with a mixture of anxiety and embarrassment. It had been weeks since you first noticed the subtle change in your left breast-a small lump that seemed to grow more prominent with each passing day. At first, you brushed it off as nothing, convincing yourself that it was just a minor fluctuation, nothing to worry about. But as time went on, so did the nagging worry at the back of your mind.

You glanced around the room, trying to distract yourself from the apprehension gnawing at your insides. The sterile scent of antiseptic and the soft murmur of hushed conversations did little to ease your nerves. You couldn't shake the feeling of unease, the fear of the unknown looming over you like a dark cloud.

After a thorough examination, the doctor offered a gentle smile and a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "It's always best to be cautious," she said, her voice soothing and calm. I need you to keep an eye on things, check for any changes every day. And if anything seems off, don't hesitate to come back."

You nodded, trying to swallow past the lump you managed to choke out, grateful for the doctor's patience and understanding.

As you stepped out of the doctor's office, the midday sun greeted you with its warm embrace, but the unease in your chest refused to dissipate. You pulled out your phone and sent a quick text to Alexia, wishing her luck in the upcoming match. It was a small gesture, but it felt like the least you could do to show your support, even if you couldn't shake the lingering worry from your mind.

Making your way to Camp Nou, you tried to focus on the excitement of the match ahead, pushing aside the nagging doubts that threatened to cloud your thoughts. The vibrant energy of the stadium buzzed around you as fans filled the stands, their cheers and chants echoing in the air.

Spotting Eli and Alba among the crowd, you made your way over to them, plastering on a smile to hide the lingering unease. Eli's keen eyes immediately noticed something amiss, and she furrowed her brow in concern. "Are you feeling alright, dear?" she asked, her voice filled with maternal worry.

You shook your head, dismissing her concern with a wave of your hand. "I'm fine, just a bit tired," you replied, forcing a smile to your lips. "Didn't have time to put on makeup today, that's alI"

Eli's gaze softened with understanding, though hint of concern lingered in her eyes. "Well, make sure you take care of yourself, okay?" she said, her tone gentle yet firm. "We don't need you passing out on us before the match even starts."

You chuckled weakly, grateful for her concern but wishing desperately to erase the worry lines from her face. "Don't worry, I'll be fine," you reassured her, though the words felt hollow on your tongue. Deep down, the unease still gnawed at you, a silent reminder of the uncertainty that lurked beneath the surface.

The match was a blur of cheers and adrenaline-fueled excitement as you cheered on Barcelona Femení from the stands. The tension mounted with each passing minute until, finally, the moment arrived-Alexia's goal, a burst of triumph that echoed through the stadium as the team secured their victory. You joined in the chorus of cheers and applause, heart swelling with pride for your girlfriend's achievement. After the match, as Alexia made her way over to where you and her family were waiting, Eli's keen eyes immediately honed in on you once again. "Alexia, mija, keep an eye on Y/N,' she said, her tone laced with concern. "They look a bit pale."

You felt a flush of embarrassment creep up your cheeks at Eli's words, grateful for the dim lighting of the stadium to conceal your reaction. Alexia's brow furrowed in concern as she turned her attention to you, her eyes searching yours for any sign of distress.

As you all made your way out of the stadium and towards the car, Alexia's concern for you was palpable. Her worry only intensified as she glanced over at you, her brow furrowed with genuine concern. "Are you feeling alright, mi amor?" she asked softly, her voice filled with a mix of worry and tend erness. "Maybe you should rest when we get home. I don't want you to get sick."

You reached out to gently squeeze her hand, offering her a reassuring smile despite the lingering unease in your chest. "I'm feeling fine, Ale," you assured her, your voice calm and steady. "Just a bit tired from all the excitement, that's all. And promise, take it easy once we get home."

As you arrived home, Alexia's protective instincts kicked into high gear. She ushered you gently inside, her arms wrapped around you in a comforting embrace. "Let's get you settled on the couch," she suggested, her voice soft and soothing. "You can relax while I make us something to eat."

You nodded gratefully, allowing her to guide you to the cozy haven of the living room. Nestled against the cushions, you watched as Alexia moved about the kitchen with practiced ease, the rhythmic clatter of pots and pans a comforting melody in the background.

As you settled into the cozy haven of the living room, a sense of unease settled over you like a heavy fog. Despite your best efforts to push aside your worries, a nagging feeling gnawed at the edges of your mind. Your breasts felt oddly itchy, a discomfort that seemed to intensify with each passing moment.

You tried to dismiss it as nothing more than your imagination running wild, but the memory of your visit to the doctor earlier that morning lingered in the recesses of your mind, casting a shadow of doubt over your thoughts.

Alexia noticed your unease, her keen eyes picking up on the subtle shift in your demeanor. With a gentle touch, she brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead, her voice soft with concern. "Qué pasa, mi amor?" she asked, her brow furrowing with worry. "Is something bothering you?"

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to articulate the swirling chaos of emotions churning within you. But as you met her gaze, the warmth of her love and understanding enveloped you like a comforting embrace. "It's nothing, Ale," you reassured her, forcing a smile despite the turmoil roiling within. "Just a bit tired, that's all."

She studied you for a moment longer, her gaze filled with a mixture of worry and understanding. With a nod, she leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, her touch a silent promise of unwavering support.

Later, as you sat together on the couch, the remnants of dinner forgotten as you basked in the warmth of each other's company, Alexia's playful demeanor shifted as she sat behind you. Her hands teased their way up your torso, fingers dancing over the fabric of your Barcelona jersey. "Me encanta verte con mi camiseta del Barcelona, pero también me encanta ver y sentir tus pechos,' she murmured in your ear, her words sending a shiver down your spine.

You couldn't help but smile at her words, the warmth of her affection washing over you like a gentle wave. Hearing her speak in Spanish always had a way of soothing your soul, reminding you of the depth of your connection. Lost in the comfort of her voice, you momentarily forgot about the worry gnawing at your mind. Before you knew it, Alexia's hands had moved to lift your shirt, her touch tender and gentle as she brushed against something unexpected.

She paused, her brow furrowing in confusion as she examined the red patches marring the surface of your left breast. "¿Qué es esto?" she asked softly, her voice tinged with concern as she traced the outline of the irritated skin.

Your heart sank as you met her gaze, the weight of your worries crashing down around you. How could you explain the inexplicable to her, when you barely understood it yourself? But as you looked into her eyes, the love and trust shining in their depths, you knew that you had to confide in her, no matter how difficult it may be.

As Alexia's concerned gaze bore into yours, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the difficult conversation ahead. "It's... it's something I noticed a while ago," you began, your voice trembling slightly despite your efforts to remain composed. "I went to the doctor about it, but.. but didn't want to worry you."

Her grip tightened on your hand, a silent gesture of encouragement and support. "What did the doctor say?" she asked softly, her voice filled with concern. You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to find the words. "She.. she said it's probably nothing" you admitted, the weight of your worries lifting slightly as you spoke the words aloud for the first time. "But... but she wants me to keep an eye on it, just in case."

Alexia's brow furrowed with worry as she listened to your explanation, her fingers tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand. "Why didn't you tell me, mi amor?" she asked softly, her voice tinged with hurt. You looked down, feeling the weight of guilt settle in the pit of your stomach. "I didn't want to worry you," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "And I thought... I thought maybe it was nothing, you know? But now..."

Alexia's heart ached as she watched the turmoil playing out across your face, her own emotions mirroring yours. "It's okay to feel that way, mi amor," she said softly, her voice filled with tenderness. "But next time, I want to know. I want to be there for you, to share the weight of your fears and insecurities. You don't have to face them alone."

With a gentle squeeze of your hand, she rose from the couch, her movements fluid and purposeful as she disappeared into the bathroom. Moments later, she returned with a small jar of soothing cream, the faint scent of lavender filling the air as she applied it to the irritated patches on your skin. "There,'' she said softly, her touch gentle and comforting as she smoothed the cream over your skin. "That should help with the itchiness."

You felt a rush of gratitude swell within you at her tender care, the weight of your worries easing slightly under the warmth of her touch. "Thank you, my Ale'' you whispered, your voice choked with emotion.

She smiled, her eyes shining with love and reassurance as she leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. I will help you with your daily checkups," she murmured, her voice filled with determination. "And maybe we can see the doctor again soon, just to be safe."

Her protective instincts kicked into high gear, her unwavering devotion filling you with a sense of warmth and security. Unable to contain the swell of emotion within you, you reached out to pull her close, your lips meeting hers in a passionate embrace. I love you, Alexia," you whispered against her lips, the words a silent promise of love and devotion. And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of her embrace, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand.

-

My thoughts during and after writing this piece:

Sometimes, a health scare can catch us off guard, leaving us feeling vulnerable and, surprisingly, embarrassed. It's moments like these where the support of someone close can truly shine through. Whether it's a partner, a family member, or a friend, having someone there to share the burden can make all the difference. They remind us that we're not alone, no matter how daunting the situation may seem.

[freyito]

ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢᴀʀᴅᴇɴ

✭ pairing(s): gallagher x ftm reader

★ summary: Gallagher has been the only one in your life to make you feel like a man. Even if you can mold and shape yourself in the Dreamscape, make yourself look and feel as Cis as you want, and yet, nothing has been able to fill the hole you feel within your very existence... aside from Gallagher. And now you can't find him. You can't find Gallagher. You can't find him.

✧ a/n: HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!!!!! im gonna be writing a lot more x male readers and especially a lot more x ftm readers... i started this blog cause wherever i looked in whatever fandom i was in i never found many male readers... and especially barely any ftm ones... and it feels like i havent written any proper x m! reader fics in a while, soooo... we'll start here. i'll still write gn reader of course!!!! but i like lowkey haven't written much that matches my identity in a bit.

🗒 cw: ftm reader, 2.2 story spoilers, dysphoria like mad dysphoria, anxiety, depression, sensory overloard, grief (?), hurt/no comfort, proofread

✎ wc: 2.2k

The Dreamscape has been quiet lately. Even Golden Hour was quiet, silent, and whenever you looked to the sky, its brilliance had begun to dim. The Dreamflux Reef had always been quiet, too, and yet now, it was uncanny. Micah had been so aloof, answering your questions curtly, and Gallagher hadn’t even sent you a text. Every time you texted him, it never went through, as if he wasn’t in an area with service. Which was normally okay, you knew he had to be out on a job or something, but it had been a whole week and he hadn’t even come back to his bar. When you had asked anyone about Gallagher, they had given you this look like they didn’t know where your lost dog was… which isn’t exactly far from the truth, you suppose. But you could see some sort of guilt behind their eyes. And that made you uneasy.

Sure, he had gone weeks at a time without being with you, but he always sent texts, and most people knew where he was, especially the locals. His last text to you was an ‘I love you babyboy.’, which isn’t abnormal, he had a habit of texting you that specifically around five times a day. He had to drill it into your head. He always made sure you knew you were loved, especially by him. You were ‘something special’, as he said, ‘the best thing that ever happened to him’, ‘his pretty boy’, and the list goes on. But your phone remains eerily silent.

You can’t help but check it every other minute, wading through the crowds of Golden Hour, the last place you wanted to be right now. No one in Dreamflux Reef would give you a definitive answer, no one had seen him, or if they had, they gave you indecisive answers. He was out on a case, he was at the lounge, anything to get you off their backs. You had to admit, you were becoming increasingly nagging, annoying, even. But who wouldn’t? Your boyfriend had been gone a whole week with no trace of him, no communication, and you were starting to think the worst.

Golden Hour makes your head spin, looking under every literal rock you can find, getting any info you can from the most lucid strangers and even mumbling drunkards. You are desperate, any little bit of information you use. Even if they had just seen a man with brown hair or a man with hazel eyes. Of course, none lead you to Gallagher. And the Bloodhounds aren’t of any help either, they all stare at you with confused looks and some even tell you to stop playing around.

You’ve already given up, the hustle and bustle of Golden Hour making you feel even more hopeless, the feel of everyone's eyes on you, not fitting in, it all sinks in once more. You were better off putting up lost dog posters at that point. Was it possible for people to go missing in the dreamscape? You had no idea, but you were holding onto the hope that perhaps this was all some twisted nightmare that had crept into your head, but each step you took disproved that thought.

Perhaps reality will have answers, and while you feel so reluctant to wake up, to be seen once more. You had never met Gallagher out of the dreamscape, and only now did you realize what you could be getting yourself into. Perhaps he had just… left? After so many years? Surely not, right?

You return to reality, unsteady. Your body feels frail, even if you had been maintaining it properly. It feels odd to be back in reality, where suddenly how you look, how you talk, and your mannerisms all mattered. You had to act masculine, you had to shut up and walk tall, hyper aware of the eyes on you. Even if it only takes only a minute to get to the front desk, even if you know the guests will never recognize you in the dreamscape. You still can’t help but feel self-conscious, being able to hide behind the veil of the dreamscape for so long, now out in reality, feeling as if you were stripped bare for all to see. Which you weren’t, but perhaps your nerves were getting to you.

When you reach the front counter, your nerves don't abate. They only grow in size, the fear quickly creeping through your system. There was no guest named Gallagher, and you didn’t even know what room he had been staying in. They can’t tell you anything considering that you yourself aren’t the customer they are looking for. But the way they look at you just as the people in Golden Hour and Dreamflux Reef do tells you all.

Reluctantly, you make it back to your room. You don’t know if you want to go back to the Dreamscape, you’re already shook up as is. If something so dire could make you resurface from the vast, blissful ocean that was the Dreamscape, why would you go back? No sign of him for a week, reality or otherwise, and not a word from those closest to him. Do you really wish to go back? Where you know your current efforts have failed. Where that sinking feeling that you know he’s gone takes hold of you?

You stare at the dreampool for a second longer, trying your best to shove down your doubts and your fears, and sink back into the sweet allure of dreams, waking up once more in the Dreamflux Reef. You stay where you are for another minute, a place you’ve called home for several years, a place that would be filled with hearty laughter, maybe even the clinking of glasses, and smell like Gallagher’s mild cologne. That scent has dimmed recently, either because he hadn’t come home, or perhaps you were… used to it. His clothes were still strewn about on the bed, what he was going to wear the day after he had disappeared. You didn’t dare move them, not once, afraid of losing all the little things about him.

When you finally exit the house, the streets feel colder. It’s even quieter than before, and most residents look… somber. Perhaps they always looked that way, and you just didn’t know. You figure you’d try your luck with Micah again, either to get closure or just wallow with someone who was close to Gallagher, you are unsure.

You had done your best to ignore the… tower that seemed to breach out of nowhere in the Reef, despite how tall it had been and just how oddly enchanting it was. You, like many of the Penacony locals, didn’t enjoy change. To have something like that just simply grow out of the ground you knew when those Trailblazers came around was jarring. That had also been the day that Gallagher had stopped coming home, and the events that followed had made you so desperate to find him once more. This beautiful dream, torn asunder by some madman’s delusion of a grander, peaceful life. You never did like the family, you never liked Sunday.

On that note, Micah was nowhere to be seen, at least where you looked. Not all the way down in the alleys or by the train station, not in the dive bar playing pool, nowhere. You had no where but to ascend those damned stairs that faced towards a false moon. You didn’t want to, not at all. It wasn’t intimidating, but every time you lingered near it for too long, you felt uneasy. It had an air to it that spoke of danger, something that told you it ‘was not for you’. And here you were, stood in front of it and the three graves that paid homage to it.

The first step you take bathes you in a stillness unlike one you’ve ever felt. Tranquility follows as you continue to walk, the world is suddenly so quiet, the hustle and bustle of the Reef fades out, and you are left with blissful nothingness. The only sound that follows you is your steps. It isn’t so bad when you think about it, it’s comforting, in a way.

Micah is tending to the plants that surround a small little courtyard. He’s relaxed, untensed, and seems genuinely at peace. It’s been rare to see someone like that in recent days. When he hears you, he lifts his head and gives you a soft smile, one that reeks of pity, as if he knows what you are going to ask him.

“Micah–”

“I have no idea where Gallagher is,” Micah sighed, his smile faltering slightly. “Not a text, not a word.”

At this point, you knew people were lying to you. Micah’s reminder only makes you realize just how much people were. “I know that. Tell me what happened to him.”

Micah is taken aback by your blunt reaction, but easily gives in. The jig is up it seems, and he doesn’t fight back any longer. With a soft huff and slump of his shoulders, he sets aside his current task, turning his full attention towards you.

“Then we’re gonna have to sit down and talk. It’s a bit of a doozy.”

.  * 　　　 ✦     .     　⁺ 　 .

Your head spins with all the details. It’s all so confusing, Gallagher, being… fictional? The man you had fallen in love with was simply just a creation, not tangible, not real. What were you supposed to do with that information? All you had been doing for the past hour or so is staring at the wall. Your room is silent, as is all things now, dark and lonely. It’s suffocating. You feel empty, devoid of whatever was there, whatever had filled the hole in your heart, as cliche as it was.

A hollow home, a hollow heart, and not a soul to mend it. Those welcoming arms are no more, or perhaps, never were. And yet, his clothes still remain, his toothbrush and cologne and shampoo and everything else stay in the bathroom as if he were. If you spaced out long enough, you could still hear his hearty laughter, if you sink a little deeper into the pillows you can smell faint traces of his shampoo. Anything to hold onto what you love. Who you love.

You need to drown yourself in something before you lose your mind. You want to cry, and yet… you can’t. It is still all catching up to you. You wander around the house mindlessly, desperate for something to happen. Anything. But there is nothing. When you stop, there is null, a terrifying distance between you and the empty kitchen. You have to get out of here, you have to leave, this home is not yours anymore. It is simply a house.

Your feet bring you away from the Reef, finally, settling you in the Reverie. You follow a familiar path, one that you had walked on a particularly bad night, that had led you to the Dreamjolt Holstery. It was unwise of you to fall in love with the mixologist, but here you were, several years in, finding out he was quite literally made up.

Slowly, you take a seat at the bar, the lounge around you empty, dead. You have no idea where the bartender is, but you don’t care. This is the same seat you had taken that night. It was something you should’ve forgotten, really, such a minor detail that now felt all too big and meaningful to your heart. You can still remember what had torn you up, it was a particularly bad day, feeling too dysphoric, and no matter what you did, even in the Dreamscape, it had done nothing to affirm your identity more. So you sought out a drink, or a few, to wash down that bitter taste that plagued your taste buds all day. And there he was, a little disheveled as always, eyebags, gravelly voice, something about him just… washed over you as if he were a dream. Which, looking back, apparently he was. You remember fighting between two thoughts; wanting to be him, or wanting him. To be a man so… masculine, gruff, big and intimidating, something like that…

Your nostalgic daydream is broken by steps, and a figure above you. You look up, hoping that you’ll see the same scene once more, that Gallagher will shoot you a smile and a chuckle, ask you what’s got you down, but instead, it’s Siobhan. She looks down at you with a sympathetic smile, as if she knows exactly what you were thinking about. You can’t tell if you feel angry or sad, or neither. You simply push those feelings down.

“What can I get you tonight?” She asks, her voice even and calm as always.

You take a minute to think, unsure if you want something strong to keep you occupied or something that could serve as a tribute. Ultimately, you settle with…

“A glass of uh… The Big Sleep,” You can’t help but chuckle lightly at the name, even if the chuckle was devoid of joy. Siobhan doesn’t mention it, simply smiles and nods.

“... To the ghosts of the past?”

“Yeah… to the ghosts of the past.”

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