#I have to wear TWO knee braces

[rosesncarnations]

We have to do stupid inventory at work today 😠

[raccooncityriots]

Slapping this under a read more because it’s just me old man yelling at a cloud while I elevate my leg lmao

Also, call me cheap as hell, but I just do not understand when my coworkers are like, “I’m so tired of the literal buffet we get a free pass to, you guys want to get Mexican?”

No?! I don’t! Why would I turndown one of the best perks of this job??

When the mainline food looks awful, I just get a big ass salad and a some sort of wrap from the always present sandwich and salad bars. There’s also always pizza if you don’t like the fully customizable sandwich and/or salad options AND 9/10 days there’s a generic hamburger/chicken sandwich option regardless to whatever theme the rest of the mainline is going for that day. Sometimes my coworker hates absolutely everything and just has the sandwich bar make her some straight up grilled cheese. The sky is the limit.

We can also use our pass at a non-buffet option for a single meal of burger w/fries, chicken strips, etc.

Like, I’ll go to a restaurant for lunch every now and again, I get just wanting to go hang out and get something different. But some of these people eat out like three times a week and that just could not be me.

[kwonhochi]

i wish wish wish i had the energy to do my pt exercises i havent done them in ages and its rly coming back to bite : ( it really is a vicious cycle like. i get tired -> i dont do them -> im in pain -> makes me more tired -> more in pain -> more tired ->

[aliteralsemicolon]

Bad, bad news - 18+

Main masterlist | Kinktober Masterlist

"Bad, bad news, one of us is gonna lose, I'm the powder you're the fuse...just add some friction." You and Spencer play to see who can control themselves the longest. Loser is at the winner's mercy for the rest of the night.

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

DISCLAIMER You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Minors do not interact at all. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read.

WARNING: Smut: Switch!/dom! Spencer, switch!/sub! reader, cock-warming, nipple play, dirty talk, edging/orgasm denial, clit stimulation, one singular spank, no use of protection, pet names (sweet girl, good girl, etc). Not proofread. Proceed at your own risk.

Word count: 2.9K See notes at end for authors note & spoilers.

Rolling around half naked in your bed sheets is like a harmonious duet on most days. You and Spencer mindlessly slip into your roles using non-verbal cues. Today was not one of those days. Today was a messy battle for dominance and your sheets bore the brunt. 

“Give in,” Spencer whispers, his knee strategically pressed against your heat. “You know you want to.”

You wiggle your wrists out of his grasp above your head and flatten your palms against his chest as you push him back down. He doesn't react fast enough and you’re straddling him again. You claim his mouth in a roaring kiss and swallow a desperate moan.

“Baby, if anyone’s going to give in it’s you.” You taunt, pulling away.

Without warning, Spencer bucks his hips up, rubbing his hardness against your core. It makes you jolt. 

“Yeah?” He licks his lips and flashes you a cocky smile.

“Y-yes.” You’re quick to regain composure, not wanting to let him rob you of the upper hand. “You can barely control yourself.”

He harshly cups your jaw in retaliation and pushes himself up until his lips are almost brushing yours. You have to brace yourself against his shoulder and his eyes lock in on yours. He lingers there for a second, his breath tickles your skin. Your eyes flicker between his eyes and his lips. His hold on your jaw loosens as the two of you slowly lean in. 

“I’m not the one that needs to be controlled.” It’s a low gravel that vibrates against your mouth as he retracts his head, making you chase after the kiss. 

Before you can catch his lips, he rolls you over and pushes himself on his knees. The noise that leaves you upon impact is something between a squeak and a grunt. He doesn’t give you time to assimilate, flipping you over and yanking you by your hips. Your cunt slams against his bulge and you groan, gripping the sheets. He grabs your hands, pinning them behind your back. You try to squirm out of his grip, but he’s got you pinned firmly. 

“Hey, that is not fair!” You whine. 

“Oh? Why not?” 

“You’re biologically stronger than I am!”

“Aw, poor baby.” He pouts with a mocking coo. 

You huff and make another futile attempt to set yourself free.

“Just give in and I’ll let go.” He chuckles. 

“Fuck off–ah!” A firm smack on your behind cuts you off. 

If that wasn’t so hot you could have at least pretended to be upset, but the way you involuntarily grind your hips gives you away before you can even make the effort. Spencer hisses in response. His eyes rake down your back to your ass pressed against him. So that backfired. 

You’re just as stubborn as he is and he doesn’t have the patience to wear you down. He needs to watch you squirm as you beg for him. He wants to feel how desperate you are for him. Using a featherlight touch, his hand travels up your back. He leans in, torso hovering over your back and brings his lips to your ear. 

“How about I make you a deal, hmm?” A trail of kisses starts from below your ear to your jaw.

“A deal?” You repeat, falling into a slight daze.

His fingers stop skimming over your back when he reaches the clasp of your bra and he undoes it in one swift motion. You can feel your heartbeat as your breasts spring free. 

“Mhm.” He releases his hold on you and moves off you to sit up against the headboard. 

“What deal?” You question as you sit up, eyeing him curiously.

“Well, it’s more of a bet.” 

Part of the reason you and Spencer work so well is because of your ability to keep up with each other's competitive nature. 

“Go on.” You rid yourself of the bra hanging on your shoulders. 

He tries to hide it, but, being met with your bare chest has an immediate effect on him. The silent but sharp inhale, the way he tries oh so hard to keep his eyes on your face and the way his lip rolls between his teeth. You can practically feel your arousal pooling in your underwear. 

“Come here.” He beckons you closer with his fingers.

A shrewd smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth. You position yourself on your hands and knees, effectively crawling toward him. It shouldn’t feel as alluring as it does, but the sight makes his cock twitch. Part of him wants to grab you and pull you onto his lap the second you’re within reach, but he waits for you to get there on your own, watching you intently with every step. 

His palms caress the sides of your ribcage as you straddle him and he swipes his tongue between his lips. You drape your arms on his shoulders, wrapping them so your fingers run through his hair. You let him kiss you on the chin, jaw and shoulder, but when he tries to go lower, you pull on his hair by the base. He turns his head back up to you and you both rest your foreheads together.

“You are impossibly stubborn.” He groans. 

“I wouldn’t have to be if you would simply do as I say.” 

“I should tie you up and make you watch as I take care of myself in front of you.” There’s an underlying playfulness in his sigh. 

“That sounds like a punishment.” You quirk your eyebrow.

“I wouldn’t have to if you had let me take care of you as I’ve wanted from the start.” 

“You won’t. At all.” You state point blank, indicating he's not the one in charge.

Spencer tsks and brushes his thumb against your nipple. You playfully slap his hand away. You don’t know it yet, but he’s already noting everything he’ll punish you for when the time comes. 

“Do you trust me?” 

You nod, giving him a cautious stare. 

“Do. you. trust. me?” He repeats, unsatisfied with the non-verbal confirmation. 

“Yes!” You huff. 

“Up.” He drops his hands to your hips, gripping the flesh and pushing it away from him. 

You lift yourself off him and on your knees. Spencer then lifts his hips, tugging his boxers down providing ample room for his length to bounce out. Looking down you can see just how hard he is. His tip’s swollen, pink and leaking with pre-cum. If you weren’t so turned on right now, you’d question what he’s up to. 

There is no shortage of things you want to do to him and he can tell as much when he runs a finger through your slit, pushing the fabric to the side. The action is unexpected and you have to use his shoulders for support, a whimper escaping your lips. You glare at him but he pays you no mind.

“Fuucck,” He breathily groans, “you are soaked.” 

It always takes you a little off guard when Spencer swears. He rarely does, saving it for when he feels very passionately about something. It makes you clench around nothing. Spencer guides your hips a little lower and runs his tip between your folds. You can only chuff in desperation as you try to keep yourself composed. 

“Sit.” He commands, lining himself up with your entrance. 

You’re sceptical but comply nonetheless. You slowly sink on his length and his fingers dig into the plush of your hips. The two of you exchange a gasp as you attempt to ground yourselves. Something about how he stretches your walls open is so delicious and palatable, that it makes you forget all sense or reason.

“Now what?” 

“Now,” his voice floats in and out of short breaths, “you sit still.” 

“I beg you pardon? Still?” Your perplexity makes him chuckle.

Shock waves travel between your cores and you squirm. 

“Uh-uh.” His grip on your body tightens as he holds you in place. “You heard me. Sit still.” 

You mull over his words and it clicks.

“Cockwarming?” 

“Precisely.” 

“That’s your deal?”

“Bet.” He corrects. 

A silent pause takes over the conversation. You try to study his challenging stare, but honestly, all you can focus on is how enchanting his eyes are. How ethereal they look when you have him begging for you. You’re smart enough to recognise that the only shot you have of making that happen is if you indulge him for now. 

“Okay, genius, I’ll bite. What are we betting on?” 

“Control. More specifically, which one of us is better at exhibiting control.”

“So not you.” You snort. 

He rolls his eyes but he’s unsure if it’s because of your comment or how warm you feel around his cock. He doesn’t point out that he’s already demonstrating a great amount of control by not flipping you over and fucking the shit out of you, because it might not work in his favour.

“What happens when I win?” 

Your follow-up question brings him back to you with brows raised in astonishment. 

“When you win?” 

“Or when you lose. Whatever way you wanna look at it.” 

His eyes narrow and his tongue swipes the inside of his cheek. Maybe if he brought up how good he is at holding his tongue, he could make a point about how much more control he’s in. 

“Whoever wins gets to do whatever they want to the other. For tonight.” 

You twist your lips to the side in contemplation. Spencer tracks every shift in your features. 

“Deal.” You answer with a genuine smile. 

“Thank you.” His gratitude is relayed in a husky whisper.

You don’t know if it’s the way he speaks or the words he says, but it makes you clench. You don’t realise until he hisses and throws his head back. 

“You can’t be doing that.” His thumbs caress the skin they’re resting on. 

“What? This?” You repeat the action intentionally and give him your most convincing doe eyes. 

Oh the things he plans to do to you. His thoughts hide behind a half-smirk and his eyes drop to your breasts. The look on his face borders between unsettling and erotic, sending shivers down your spine. Spencer lets his hand drift up your sides, stopping so his thumbs brush your nipples again. The feeling provokes goosebumps all over. 

You unintentionally whimper when he gently rolls them between his thumbs and forefingers. At first, Spencer was only trying to tease you for your antics, but the sound of your voice made him want to coax more out of you. He adds pressure to his hold and tugs. Your walls tighten around him again and he lessens the pressure to keep himself composed. If you don’t stop, he will. Your hands move to cup his wrists in place and you try to hold back the pathetic sounds threatening to spill out of you. 

“Can’t have your cake and eat it too, sweet girl. Tell me what you want.” His voice is a coo masking a command. 

“For you to stop playing games and give up already.” You try to keep your voice steady but fail. 

“You’re just delaying the inevitable at this point. The longer you fight, the harder you’ll have to beg.” He relays it like a scientific fact that can’t be proven wrong. 

“And you’re delusional if you think that’s happening. I won’t beg for you.” 

“That’s two bets you’re losing tonight.” 

You scoff but before you can get another word in, he pulls your taut nubs with a tighter grip than before. You have to fight the urge to lean away and roll your hips. Your breathing quickens, it’s almost as if you're quietly heaving. Then you make the mistake of looking down. Slender fingers toying with your hardened peaks and cock so deep inside you that your cores are touching at the base. 

Your senses feel heightened. Everything you sense is jumbled. You can practically taste the sweet ecstasy that fills your body when he’s driving into you so hard that he’s pressing against your stomach. You don’t realise how close you are to the edge, but Spencer does. He can tell by the slight shake in your legs as you try to keep yourself still. And the way your nails dig into his wrists. 

All your focus is on keeping yourself from clenching because you don’t want him to stop. The coil in your stomach has almost completely unravelled; you just need to sit still for a few more seconds. 

Seven. In your distracted state you let a few tiny moans slip out. 

Six. It elates Spencer, he almost feels bad for what he’s about to do. 

Five. As you grow louder, Spencer begins shushing you in his soft voice. 

Four. You shut your eyes, anticipating your release.

Three. Almost there, your lip rolls between your teeth. 

Two–

Your efforts are wasted because Spencer lets go right as you’re on the brink. 

“NofuckWHY?!” You speak so fast that you join your sentence into one word. 

A brash chuckle erupts from him. He releases his wrists from your grip.

“Come on, you didn’t actually think I was going to let you cum.” 

You let out a frustrated huff. 

“Only good girls get to come. Are you a good girl?” He adds, intertwining his hands with yours. 

It seems like an intimate act, but you can see past it. As always, the sneaky bastard has found himself a loophole. The truth is, Spencer doesn’t have more patience, he’s just too good at achieving results. He’s basically admitted defeat and you’ll still be the one to lose. You can only give him a narrowed stare, scouring his eyes with your jaw hanging.

“No?” He prompts when your silence is too long. 

This time, he only gives attention to one of your nubs and his other hand lands on your clit without warning. He doesn’t ease you into his brutal pace, flicking over your bud with his middle finger. The strain against your sensitive nipple, the stimulation on your inflamed bud and his erection still buried inside you. It’s an overwhelming sensation and you’re unsure of what to focus on. The result is a loud, strangled moan you try to muffle in the crook of his neck.

“Fuck! Spencer!” 

It doesn’t take long for the tension in your abdomen to start building again. You try to focus on your breathing and relieve the intensity by pressing your nails into his shoulders. Spencer remains undeterred and you can’t escape the feeling. It’s building fast and it’s going to run through you like a tidal wave. 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck– oh God– oh fuck–” 

Your stringed obscenities are matched by Spencer's more silent hums and groans. He’s enjoying this, probably more than you are. His begins to twitch inside you at random intervals, he could cum just from this. 

“You’re close. Maybe I should stop. Hmm?” He mumbles his words as close to your ear as he can. 

“Pleaseplease–fucking–please– don’t stop. Don’t stop!” 

“Admit that you’re my good girl.”

“Spenc– mmh–” 

It’s too much but not enough at the same time. The tension inside is brewing too thick, you’re about to snap. 

“You’re not cumming until you say it,” Spencer warns sternly, “say you’re my good girl.” 

The sound of his voice only adds to your desperation. All you give him in return is your lewd mewls. He’s brought you back to the edge, you only need one final push. 

“Still nothing? You must not want it bad enough.” He starts to slow down his pace, indicating that he’s about to stop. 

The threat alone makes you break. 

“No!” You yelp. “Nonono– I’m a good girl– I’m your good girl! Please don’t stop!”

You’re panting frantically. He’s won.

“Yeah? You think so?” 

Yet he’s still going to make you work for it. He quickens his pace again and you don’t even try to keep yourself still anymore, squirming in his lap. 

“Mhm..” It’s a broken beg, your face still hiding in his neck. 

“Look at me.” He hisses gently, struggling against the friction you’ve started to build. 

You lazily lift your head to meet his eyes. He has a victorious smirk on his face. Your eyes struggle to stay open and you flutter your lids.  

“Oh, you look so pretty. All flushed and desperate.” He teases. “Tell me, what are you?”

You need release, now. Your legs try to close around his body. 

“I– ah– shit– I’m–fuck your g–good girl!” Your words exit as more of a moan than a coherent sentence. The coil in your stomach is about to burst any second. 

“I’m sorry. I can’t hear you.” He’s relishing in your struggle. 

You let out a frustrated whine. 

“I’m your good girl!” 

Spencer chuckles at just how agreeable you’ve become because of how badly you want to cum. Your brows furrow and you throw your head back, eyes squeezing shut. Just as you’re about to get your sweet release, Spencer stops. You snap your sights on him, utterly dazed, annoyed and confused. Spencer leans in, getting close enough for his whisper to reach you.

“Prove it.” 

Spoilers: Smut.

AN - When I said edging, I meant it. We’re all getting edged. Anyway first kinktober piece, I can’t promise I’ll deliver all of them in October. I’m just a girl (uni takes priority sorry guys). Also, this is kinda overdue now but thank you for 1K <3

TT has ruined so many things for me. I couldn’t write this without thinking of “asserting dominance” and giggling.

Thank you for reading!

[bisexualbaker]

I was just wondering about this myself for unrelated reasons, thank you!

Hello! I was wondering how difficult it is to interpret sign language from a person with disabled hands. I intend to write a character whose hands are damaged by leprosy, but he does know sign language; if he tried to use it instead of speaking aloud, would people be able to guess what he is trying to sign, or would it be too difficult / impossible to tell, and how severely could his hands be affected before it became unreadable? I haven't decided whether his fingers are paralyzed, or mostly gone. Thanks!

Hi!

I know for ASL, you need at least one hand that can do handshapes, which generally means 5 functioning fingers. This isn't hard-and-fast--and there are definitely signers with disabilities that interfere with their signing--but it means your character may need to adapt signs, be understood only by a few people who know his signing style well, or other signers find his signing hard to understand, or he might not be able to sign at all. Some other sign languages do require 2 hands. I think exactly how hard it would be to adapt sign language depends on the sign language itself (what handshapes are common, how many hands you need) and exactly how his hands function.

Mod Rock

[oflgtfol]

good news re:accutane is my dry skin is clearing up like im still not 100% but its also like the middle of winter and even before accutane i’d always get dry skin during this weather so my current level of dryness is like, normal pre accutane level. likewise my lips are totally fine again

the dry skin + lips was also the first side effect to start so im hoping the Side Effects Going Away process will then happen in the same order of them appearing, ie, the reason my body still hurts so much is that that side effect began later on so i still have some more time before it starts going away, ie, this isnt permanent and theres still time for it reverse before i should start getting worried for real

[fangswbenefits]

Double-edged Sword

Summary: Miguel knows he has to let you go before you can be his. But it’s not that simple. Especially when you keep on testing his limits…

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x spider-woman!reader

Word count: 2.2k

18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed and jealous Miguel. Soft/inexperienced reader. F*ngering.

Part 1 (if you're just starting out) - Previous part

By the time Miguel rose from his slumber, he was met with a pair of curious eyes glaring at him.

"You snore."

A sleepy yawn worked its way out of his throat as he lifted his wrist to assess the time. It was still fairly early in the morning, and he allowed himself to relax against your soft pillows.

You were on your side, both hands tucked under your head, and your trademark sweet smile curling your lips.

"Did you sleep well?"

Miguel nodded, mustering the will to sit up against the bed rest. He soon realised he had fallen asleep on top of the comforter with just a blanket covering him, whereas you were nicely tucked inside your bedsheets.

A distinct barrier between you two.

He looked down at you through sleepy eyes, wishing he could plant a soft kiss to your temple.

You looked so peaceful and it brought a sense of calmness to him as well.

"I was thinking of meeting Tom today.." you began, as you flopped onto your back. "Think you can get someone to cover for me? Just for a while?"

And just like that, Miguel's stomach turned uncomfortably. "Today? Already?"

Your head turned to him. "Why? Do you think I should wait? Do we have something important today?"

"Maybe you should wait a little longer," he said with a sigh. "Take some time to figure out the best approach."

"I've been waiting for months... I just... I really need this," you whispered, now facing away from him.

In reality, Miguel knew there wasn't much he could say to deter you from this. He couldn't really blame you from wanting to set things right with someone who meant so much to you.

He would have given everything to be able to get that opportunity with Gabriella.

However, the less rational side of him was seething with jealousy. After all, you had revealed you had feelings for him.

But what truly fueled his escalating jealousy was what had happened last night. The kiss, him touching himself in front of you, and you touching yourself in front of him. Intimacy had engulfed you both so unexpectedly, that he wondered if it had been a mistake.

He dreaded that thought, so he promptly pushed it away.

"Sure. Take your time."

You then shifted to sit next to him, your shirt briefly clinging to your breasts, letting him know you were braless.

Of course.

He groaned inwardly at the sight of the small protuberances on each nipple.

And you caught him staring, arching a brow in amusement. "Want to see them again?"

He cleared his throat and shook his head. The last thing he needed now was a raging boner.

But it seemed that you were hellbent on torturing him, so when you got on your knees, briefly crawling to him, and finally settling on his lap, he knew he was fucked.

You were wearing nothing but a shirt and sleeping shorts, and when you looped your arms around his neck, he instinctively closed his eyes, bracing himself for yet another erection.

He had expected you to lean in for a kiss, but you remained still, eyeing him with utmost interest.

"This place can be so isolating," you sighed.

Miguel gripped your hips, adjusting you back to prevent having you seating on his crotch.

"Nueva York is overflowing with spiders, yet you still feel so lonely, you know?"

He did know.

It was lonely at the top.

While many spiders had relationships of their own and managed to build their lives around them, Miguel had nearly forgotten how used to being alone he had gotten.

"So you feel lonely here?"

You seemed unsure. "I have you to keep me company, though I figure that doesn't really count. you were forced to babysit me when I forgot got here."

"I wasn't forced to do anything," he corrected, slightly frowning. "I saw the potential in you and wanted to harness that."

Your fingers were absentmindedly caressing the nape of his neck. "I feel really comfortable around you."

That caught him slightly off guard.

"I never thought I'd be able to reveal that secret to anyone... you whispered, shifting to sit on his growing erection. "And last night.."

The not knowing was killing him. On one hand, he was scared to find out that it had been nothing but a hear of the moment thing, but he yearned for more than that... and that part of him needed to kn more.

"Was is because of loneliness, then?"

You pressed your lips tightly together.

"Well, I suppose loneliness gets the best of us, eventually," he sighed, trying his best to seem as casual as possible. "Sometimes, using your hand just doesn't quite do it."

At this, you widened your eyes, before averting your gaze. "It wasn't because I felt lonely... I... I just... you're really attractive and.."

Miguel decided that was enough.

He brought his hand to the back of hour neck and pulled you closer until your lips grazed along his.

"Can I kiss you?"

You swallowed, pressing yourself down on him. "Do you always get this.. excited so easily?"

He gripped your chin between his fingers, tilting your head to have your eyes meet his. "Only for you."

It was a simple confession mixed with desire, but it was enough to startle you.

Fuck.

You leaned back as if snapped from a daydream. "Do you mean that? Or are you just saying that to make me feel better?"

Miguel took a deep breath. "I mean that, and you can feel it," he proved his point with a roll of his hips.

You moaned softly, eyes fluttering shut and mouth dropping open.

His sweet girl was so, so responsive...

Instinctively, you tried to match the sway of his hips, but it felt clumsy and Miguel brought both hands to your hips, gripping them tightly.

Your breaths were coming out shaky as he guided you on his clothed cock, guiding you on how to move your body alongside his.

"Does that feel good?" he asked seductively.

"Yes..." you gasped. "I... I'm.."

Miguel felt the first beads of precum drip from his tip. "You're what?"

Your hands came to grip his shoulders, and you took a deep breath before one of them slid down to your

body.

Miguel immediately knew what you meant, but he intended on having things go differently this time.

" can do that for you... he offered, gripping your wrist gently, as your fingers prepared to slide inside your shorts.

You bit your lip, eyes still squeezed shut. "You have to...”

"I want to," he said firmly.

Nodding, you brought your hand up to his shoulder again, and he took the chance to gently slip his fingers past the waistband.

You immediately shuddered and leaned to rest your face against his neck.

He trailed down carefully and his cock twitched once he reached your clit.

"Is this okay?"

You moaned in response, wrapping your arms around him.

Your clit was already swollen and Miguel felt his fangs threatening to drop once he began to slowly roll the pad of his finger around it.

It didn't take long until he felt your wetness seeping through the layers of fabric and staining his suit.

"Please... Miguel..." you groaned, now jerking your hips against his touch.

He began to drag your wetness along your folds to coat your clit with it. You were soaked for him, your body already working on preparing you to take his COCk.

But he would have to be gentle.

He would have you riding his fingers first.

"Please what, sweet girl?" he cooed, planting a kiss to your temple."

You answered by trying to have his finger slide down to your entrance.

So eager...

"Can you take one finger?"

You halted your hips and took a few seconds to nod.

"I can take it..."

He could cum just from your shaky voice and how much you craved him.

As one finger reached your opening, he felt you tense up lightly.

"I'll be gentle," he promised, tracing the sensitive spot. "Tell me to stop, and I will."

"Don't stop..."

He pressed yet another kiss on your flushed skin, and slipped the tip of one finger inside, feeling you immediately squeeze around him.

Miguel realised that if he were to be your first, he would be utterly fucked. The way you gripped his fingers with your walls nearly tipped him over the edge. He couldn't imagine how ridiculously good it'd feel to have his cock inside you instead.

"Try to relax.."

And you did try.

Until his thumb pressed down on your clit.

Your hips immediately bucked into him, encasing his finger inside you until he was buried knuckle-deep.

"Easy..." he growled, his fangs emerging right away from the overload of sensation.

He doubted you'd be able to take another thick finger of his, so he settled for having just one sliding in and out, drawing the sweetest gasps from you.

"You're doing so well.." he praised.

You rolled your hips instinctively, fucking yourself on his finger as best as inexperience allowed you.

"Take... take your... suit..." you pleaded, clawing at his chest with one hand.

The digital layer vanished down to his waist. He didn't want set his cock free or he would cum in an instant.

Then, he saw you roll up your shirt with trembling fingers, exposing your breasts.

He nearly came rigth there and then.

But nothing could have prepared him for what you were about to do.

You desperately brought your pierced nipples to graze against his bare chest, slowly raising your before sinking down around his finger.

Miguel was now certain that you would be the death of him.

He felt your wetness dribbling down his hand, but kept a steady pressure on your pulsing clit. With each undulation of your body, he was able to feel the cool metal of your piercings digging into his skin, and couldn't fight back the growl that emerged from deep within him.

As expected, he was embarrassingly close, and needed to do something about it.

"Lift your hips."

You groaned in response, stilling for a moment.

"Wait….. why?"

"I'm close.."

You slowly clenched around his finger, and his hand came to grip your hip tight.

"Too close..

The beginning of a pout settled on your face, but you did as requested, finally putting a stop to the near excruciating pleasure he was feeling.

Now he could focus on you.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck to anchor your with each flick of his finger and with each sway of your hips.

"Are you okay?"

You didn't answer, but he could tell from your erratic breathing that you were nearing your peak. Your whimpers increased in intensity, as you clumsily rode his finger, chasing after your bliss.

The sound of his watch beeping broke the rhythm for a second, but Miguel ignored it.

As long as no canon event was involve, he wouldn't shift his attention from you.

It beeped again.

But you were so close.

"I... I think I'm.."

He didn't need your words, your body language spoke to him in ways he didn't know he craved.

The movement you started convulsing against him and tightening your grip around his neck, he knew you were coming undone. Your walls clenched around his finger as the orgasm tore through your body.

Another beep, which Miguel ignored again.

Miguel allowed himself to enjoy your tightness, realising you would need far more preparation than this if you were to take his cock.

Your legs were shaking slightly, as he kept pressing the pad of his thumb against your pulsing clit.

But what really made his cock twitch was the way you kept mumbling his name in between sobs, eventually slumping against his chest.

He slowly withdrew his finger, earning a deep sigh from you.

<CANON EVENT IMMINENT: ANOMALY DETECTED>

Miguel's heart nearly burst out of his chest from the unexpected announcement, and you jolted into him, still descending from your peak.

Instant bones killer.

Much against his will, he brought himself to suit up and carefully set you aside on your bed with a kiss pressed to your forehead, before jumping to his feet, quickly clicking through his watch.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled hurriedly, glazing at you as he neared the bedroom window.

You were a panting mess, but quickly tried to gather yourself. "Don't apologise. Just go."

He hopped onto the window sill and took a deep breath, throwing you a final glance. "TIl find you once I'm done."

"You don't have to... I have to do this on my own."

He nodded. "Don't deactivate your mic."

Your straightened your shirt before sitting on mattress. "Miguel... it'll be fine."

"Do as I say."

You eventually nodded.

He hated having to part from you, but his duty came first, and he couldn't step away from it.

Not even for his sweet girl.

"Lyla, summon squad 12, and give me the readings on the anomaly."

Before swinging into the cool morning air of Nueva York, Miguel saw you crossing your legs and stare at him with those sweet eyes that he was so addicted to.

But he would be there for you again.

He would find you.

And he would make sure your devotion would he his.

Not Tom's.

Once Miguel was done with the canon disruption, he threw himself into a portal to get to you.

Your mic wasn't working, and your bio readings weren't available, and he could only assume you had switched off your watch.

Luckily, he had checked Tom's file before deleting it as you had requested.

He knew exactly where to go.

The sun had began to set on the horizon, engulfing the city in shades of orange that helped mask his movements across the innumerous rooftops. He refrained from using his web often, as the laser-like flashes would draw too much attention.

So he took it to jumping and clawing his way up the steep walls of the building opposite to where he lived on all fours, already being able to pick up some interference coming from your mic.

You were close.

"... you want me to leave."

Miguel reached the metal railing of an emergency exit, and balanced himself on it, feeling his heart stammering against his chest.

"You're so good at that, so go ahead."

From there, he was able to spot you in his apartments, near a window. He caugjt a glimpse of Tom and immediately decided he hated him.

He was scowling deeply at you, arms crossed, and words sharp as knives.

How dare he?

His claws were digging into the railing, and Miguel felt droplets of venom spill from his fangs.

This Tom individual wasn't even attractive to begin with, so he figured your previous attraction to him had to based on something else.

"You hurt me! You cannot do this and expect me to pretend nothing happened."

Clearly not based on personality.

Your voice was so low, Miguel was barely able to make it through the mic. "Tom... it was also hard for me..."

Miguel was visibly seething at this pint, wishing he could just drag you out of there. You deserved better than someome who didn't bother listening to you.

"Please leave."

There was a long pause and Miguel held his breath, not wanting to miss out on your reply.

"Don't do this..." you whispered, and he could hear the sadness in your words.

It was itching him to put an end to it.

But...

Deep down, Miguel knew you needed this. Closure. Even if things didn't go as you had hoped, you had tried your best to remedy this situation.

His heart hadn't wanted you to go visit Tom, but his mind spoke differently. He had to let you go to him, to have you as his.

A double-edged sword.

"You left me for months. Ignored me for months. You don't get to do this without a decent explanation," the idiot went on, further angering Miguel. "And since you don't want to tell me the truth, I want you gone."

This time, you cleared your throat and stormed out of the room, not exchanging another word.

Miguel considered dealing with Tom in his own way, but you came first.

He plunged from the rooftop and into a deserted alley, pacing quickly to meet you as you exited through the door, zipping up the hoodie that hid your suit underneath.

Miguel called after you, but you didn't turn to face him.

"I don't want to talk, Miguel."

Not wanting to be spotted by some passer-by, he urged you to walk into another alley.

"I heard some of it," he said softly once you were both out of sight.

You pressed your back against the wall, looking absolutely defeated. It was almost criminal that someone like you had to ever feel this way.

"You did what you could," he went on, placing one hand on your shoulder. "Maybe one day he'll understand."

Miguel didn't want him to be near you ever again, but he had to comfort you somehow.

You lowered your gaze and fixed it on a small puddle of water at your feet. "I deserve this."

"You do not."

"I don't want your pity."

He shook his head. "You won't have it."

In fact, he was willing to give you his heart if you'd take it. But he wouldn't dare say that out loud. Not in this moment.

He waited for your to make a move, but you remained quiet.

"Let's go back to Nueva York," he suggested, placing one hand on your shoulder.

You sobbed softly, and he saw a couple of teardrops drip from your face.

He just couldn't bear seeing you like this, so he took a step closer and you quickly wrapped your arms around him.

"Thank you... thank you, thank you..." you kept on repeating in between sniffles.

He held you tightly in absolute adoration and devotion. "I'm here for you."

"You're a great friend, Miguel..."

Friend.

That word made his heart sink violently.

"Just as a friend?"

There it was... his obsession for you creeping in.

You pulled away from his grip, teary eyes narrowing at him. "Oh... with benefits?"

That was somehow even worse.

Your face twisted into something else as you patted your face dry. "What do you want from me, Miguel?"

Anything.

Everything.

"Anything you're willing to give me," he said truthfully.

Maybe he shouldn't have been so straightforward, but he was merely answering your question. He didn't want to lie, and didn't want to go back to having to hide how he truly felt.

"I don't know if I can give you much more than this."

Your words lingered in the air after hitting him hard and he felt as though his body had been plunged into freezing water.

"Why?"

Your gaze wavered and you began chewing your lip. "Because I don't know if I'm ready for anything serious..."

Miguel straightened to his full height. "Anything you can give me... I'll take it."

He sounded desperate, and deep down he knew that it was probably working against him. Being intimate with you only could only satisfy him for so long if nothing was to come of it.

As much as his body yearned for you touch, his heart was seeking something that wasn’t skin-deep.

"Can I ask for something?"

Anything.

Everything.

He would give it all to you.

You cleared your throat. "I need time."

He could definitely work with that.

However...

"Do you... like being with me?" Miguel carefully asked. "And I'm not talking about being with me like earlier today." Your fluttering orgasm was proof enough.

Your eyes widened and he could tell you had not expected his bluntness. "Of course I do... I... just need time."

He pressed his lips together into a fine line. In truth, he didn't want to be just friends with you. He didn't crave that level of human connection. He needed much more than that from you.

"You only want me as a friend."

It wasn’t a question, and it sounded more like an accusation.

Was he being fair with you? Was he being fair with himself? These questions kept on looping inside his head, but his emotions had a stronger hold on him.

"I trust you," you said in a whisper. "I don't trust people easily."

That did ease some of the uneasiness within him, but he still wanted more. The grip of his obsession for you was tightening around him viciously, and it was getting harder for him to keep it at bay.

"Maybe I want more than that."

"Miguel..."

He leaned in, bending his head just enough for his lips to almost meet yours, searching for the comfort of your warmth.

He could feel you slipping through his fingers again.

You turned your head lightly and pressed a lingering kiss on his cheek instead.

His eyes fluttered shut, and the dreadful feeling that you were parting from him suddenly overcame him.

"Maybe you should go back..." you said after parting from him. "I'll stay here for a little while..."

"Because of Tom?" he could feel the poison dripping from his words.

You shook your head vehemently. "Because of me."

Part 7

Masterlist

[honey-tongued-devil]

[Arcane preference] reacting to their s/o wearing mobility aids

When I said I was prioritizing the illnesses I had, I didn’t expect the hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, but here we are. For those who don’t know what it is: it’s a genetic condition that affects the ligaments, making them longer and/or looser, which cause problems over time. In my case, it affects my legs, so I’ll write about those. As always, if you want to read more of my work, you can click on the coloured texts! here the Tumblr masterlist, and here are the first two chapters of Everytime it Rains.

socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 |

Jayce:

He’s well-versed in what to do and not do, being around two people with a similar condition (though he’ll never call it a "disease" out loud for fear of making anyone uncomfortable).

His help is as subtle as possible: he’ll grab your backpack, shoulder bag, or anything else you’re carrying to keep you from overexerting yourself.

During walks, he’s the one who’ll suddenly mention it’s getting cold, too hot, or that he just remembered something, as soon as he senses you’re getting tired, assuming your fatigue is worse than his.

The first time you said, “I’ll pass, my knees are about to bend” he didn’t realize they bent backwards, and when he saw what that actually meant, he went pale.

He felt guilty about his reaction for at least a week.

Viktor:

Tell him something he doesn’t know.

He’s the one who’ll comment, “Where’s your brace?” if he sees you with bare legs and no aid, maybe tapping your foot lightly with his cane to emphasize his disapproval.

On the bad days—when fatigue, cold, or any external factor makes both of your legs useless—you end up helping each other out, spending most of the time on the couch with pillows under his knees and your legs draped over his.

If you have to do something alone while he’s busy, he’ll ask Jayce to accompany you, ensuring you don’t overdo it without realizing.

Ekko:

Honestly, he couldn’t care less. I mean, it’s not a big problem for him

The first time he saw your knees bend weirdly and too much, he just said, “Ouch.”

Other than that, there are hoverboards! If your legs stop cooperating at some point in the day, he’ll just have you balance seated on the hoverboard, saying it’s a gentleman’s duty to escort such an attractive lad/lady around.

He doesn’t ask what you want or need; he just does it, whether it’s bringing you food or removing your knee brace to let your skin breathe.

If he’s going to be away from the house for a while, he leaves a few things ready for you, like water bottles, so you don’t have to strain yourself carrying them up the stairs on your own.

When he sees you’re worn out, he’ll ask if you want a massage, using some body butter to improve circulation, relieve stress, and keep your skin elastic.

Vander:

His first instinct would be to carry you, but since that’s sweet yet sometimes awkward, you both agree that at night ‘it’s a man’s right to carry his wife/husband to bed, disability or not’.

He doesn’t know exactly how to help, so aside from asking if you need anything—like grabbing your aids, bringing them to you, or helping you put them on—he won’t push, knowing you’ll ask for help if you need it.

If you need to go upstairs, he’ll always walk behind you so that if your knees give out, he can catch you and avoid disaster.

At least two rectangular pillows appear in every useful room so you can place them under your knees. The problem is that you forget about them most of the time, so they’re not much help—at least until he comes along, lifts your legs, and places them in a more comfortable position.

"My legs hurt."

"Oh no, I’m sorry, I’m afraid we’ll have to cut them off," he jokes with a mock-serious expression, bursting into laughter when you swat at him in response.

Silco (old man):

Some things you could do on your own but feel more intimate when done together. That’s why you often trot into his office with the fabric sleeve and brace in hand, handing them to him, and he gives you his shimmer syringe in return.

There’s no specific reason beyond the mental closeness and vulnerability of the act.

“Too tight?” will always be his question, even though he knows by now how to adjust it perfectly and doesn’t need to ask.

When you’re together, he’s the one to carefully remove it, stroking your leg while lost in thought.

He never sends anyone to assist you; instead, he asks if you think it would be better to have someone accompany you, making sure you reassure him if you insist you can manage alone.

Silco (Young Man):

Zaun isn’t exactly suitable for crutches or unsteady footing, so as soon as you let him know about your condition, he feels even more compelled to improve the city (or at the very least, smooth out the streets).

He’ll ask questions—few but direct—to understand what it is and how he should act.

If you drop something, he’ll be quick but subtle about picking it up and putting it somewhere easier for you to reach.

“Do you want to go home?” is the question he’ll ask you most often, even if it’s just with a look, despite you explaining multiple times that you’ll let him know if you can’t keep going.

But he knows you push yourself beyond your limits, so he worries.

At night, he’s made it a small ritual to massage your legs when you stretch them out in bed, and it actually helps relieve the tension.

Jinx:

“I can make you a mechanical one.”

When you explain what the condition is and that you don’t need a replacement leg but help for the ones you have, she starts carrying around a notebook, taking notes on the “flaws” of your aid to make you a custom version better suited to your daily life and body.

“I’ll do it!” is her go-to response for anything you need to do that she thinks takes too much effort. She doesn’t even ask; she just throws herself into it with so much enthusiasm it becomes amusing after a while.

You don’t have many intact knee braces or aids left, because according to her, they were “boring,” and she’s customized them—though they still work pretty well.

Even if she won’t admit it, she’s become even more protective of you. For example, if someone bumps into you in the street, she’s ready to jump to your defense immediately.

Vi:

She doesn’t really know how to react or respond because of how versatile the condition is. How does she figure out which days your legs won’t work and which ones they will? Or when they’ll start hurting before it’s too late?

You two agree on a small code: you tap her hand or shoulder three times rhythmically when you start to feel fatigued so that if you’re in public or with company, you don’t have to announce it to everyone if you don’t want to. She’ll immediately understand.

She’s a little scared of doing the wrong thing. She doesn’t know how to handle it and, even though she tries not to, she starts to perceive you as more fragile, moving with a fear of accidentally hurting you.

But she learns over time. She’ll simply ask more often if you need anything when she’s going to the kitchen or the store.

And when you’re cuddling, she’ll pull your legs onto hers.

Caitlyn:

She asks you to explain the condition to her—what you can and can’t do and how she can help.

She’s the ultimate advocate for your aid.

If you skip wearing it one morning because you don’t feel like it or the pain hasn’t started yet, you can bet she’ll notice and say something.

Sure, it can be a bit annoying, but considering it’s a degenerative condition, you know she’s right, so you can’t really get mad at her.

If you’re just not in the mood, she’ll put it on for you herself, with such care that you start to wonder if there’s an instruction manual she got that you didn’t.

Beyond that, she’s not overbearing. She trusts that you’ll communicate when you don’t feel like doing something, and she doesn’t presume to know your limits better than you do.

Mel:

It’s not too much of a problem, considering most of your activities together don’t involve much walking or moving due to her work.

That doesn’t stop her from taking an interest, though. At least once a week, she’ll ask you how your legs are

If they hurt, if you need different support or more comfortable shoes, or if you just need a footrest or a cushion—she’s ready and ensures everything you might need is on hand. If she can’t get it herself, she’ll send someone.

During dinners, she privately asks whoever is in charge of arranging things to provide you with a footrest and an extra cushion on your chair. If you tell her it’s unnecessary, her response will be, “Can’t I spoil my partner a little?”

She knows you’ll let her know if you’re having issues, but she takes all the necessary precautions to ensure no problems arise in the first place.

Sevika:

Again, tell her something she doesn’t know.

The difference between your legs and her arm—besides the fact that yours are still intact—is that they require less messy and time-consuming maintenance than hers. So not only does she not mind helping, but she hardly even notices.

She won’t ask if you need anything unless you say so or show explicit signs of struggling. It’s a deliberate choice to avoid making you feel like she thinks you’re not independent or capable.

On the couch or in bed, she’ll have you rest your legs on hers and prop you up with cushions behind your back, making sure you’re fully supported.

[powerfultenderness]

Bed

Summary: König’s new neighbor finds out how comfortable his bed is. König falls quickly.

Pairing: König/F!Reader (civilian)

Rated: T+

A/N: Just some fluff. 

Word count: 2947

[Neighbor König masterlist]

It was nice to have his own place. Having been in the military most of his life, König was used to base life. The familiarity of it all was a comfort, but there were some, well, comforts that were always missing. Like his bed. The beds on base were little more than stiff uncomfortable cots, a little too small for him, causing his feet to hang off the edge of the bed. But his bed at home? Large and soft and yet firm enough to hold his weight, with ample room for his height. The pillows were like solid clouds. And the vanilla scented candle on his nightstand would fill his room with its delicious aroma and lull him into soft dreams. 

That’s where he was headed now, ready to eat the take out he was carrying, take a nice hot shower and climb into his bed. But as he rounded the stairs to get to his flat, he was met with a slight block on the stairs. A woman was struggling with a box, bracing it against her knee and grunting with every step she tried to take. 

“Excuse me,” he started in German.

You jumped, and let out an undignified squeak, when someone started talking behind you. The surprise made you drop your box, thankfully it was already low to the step and didn’t drop on your foot or anything. Still you were sure you heard something break. “Shit!” 

With a hand over your heart you turned and had to hold back another startled reaction. The man at the foot of the stairs was big, giant even, and was wearing…some sort of…hood? A mask? What the fuck? It took a second for you to realize he was carrying a take out bag, he must be trying to get past you. “S-sorry, you just startled me.” 

He raised his hands, a gesture to show that he meant no harm. “No, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He replied, this time in English. “Do you need some help?” 

You smiled politely at the man, “oh. No thank you! I got it!” You chuckled nervously, still a little out of breath from struggling with the box, while you braced your lower back with one hand. 

He smiled, not that you could see it, and gestured to the stairs. “Ok. After you.” 

Right. Shit, right. You were blocking him, the big guy probably didn’t want to just push past you on the stairs. 

You chuckled nervously again and picked up the box, trying to keep your grunts quiet, and heaved it up one more step. You could feel his eyes on you, another step, two more steps, then the landing. Whew! You gently dropped the box and straightened out your back to look up at the rest of the stairs. 

You sighed, the little flight you just made it up was the easy part, now the long part of the stairs. The faint chuckling you heard from the foot of the stairs didn’t help either.

“Miss, are you sure you don’t need any help?” 

“I mean,” you started with a huff, not out of anger, just an attempt to calm your breathing. “I don’t need help, I can carry it! But, help would be very much appreciated, yes. Thank you.” 

He nodded and smoothly moved up to the landing, keeping his movements deliberate. Something he learned to do long ago around civilians, especially around women that were smaller than him, so he didn’t scare them. You showed signs of being wary of him —a good thing as far as he is concerned, as he is a stranger—and took a step back as he neared you. Since his face is covered, he can’t offer a mollifying smile (though he feels himself doing so anyway), and instead simply nodded at you again before he picked up the box.

He chuckled, watching you struggle with the box had him expecting a heavy thing, but, “this isn’t heavy.”

“What!” You squeaked, hands on your hips, “it’s like, fifty pounds!” 

Even with his face covered (why?), you can tell just by the way his eyes darted over to you that he is smirking. “Where to?”

“Oh, not far. I’m at 203.” 

“Neighbor,” he nodded as he started up the stairs. “I live in 205.” 

You turned to him with a kind smile and introduced yourself, “nice to meet you, neighbor!” 

“König,” he replied, now at the top of the stairs, and shifted the box so he was holding it in one hand. He extended his right hand to you   

“Now you’re just showing off,” you say with an amused smile and shake his hand before leading him to your new flat.

He was surprised when you opened the door without unlocking it first.

“You should lock your door,” he followed you in. 

You rolled your eyes a little with a short laugh and spread your arms out in the literally empty flat. “What, you think someone is going to break in and steal my nothing?”

“No. There are other things to take besides your stuff.” He half muttered as he set the box down by the wall.

“Huh?”

He looked at you, with your head tilted slightly as you questioned him, and understood. You were one of those civilians. Innocent. He can’t bring himself to put a damper on this interaction, in the back of his mind he realizes that now he’ll have to keep an eye and ear out for his new neighbor. 

“Do you need help bringing anything else up?” 

You gave him a strained smile, nervous, if the sound of your voice was anything to go by, and shook your head. “No, no I couldn’t possibly take up more of your time.” 

You reached out and touched his forearm, intending to remind him of his dinner that he was carrying, but only drawing your attention to his muscles. “Oh. Wow.” You mumbled under your breath, before realizing that you’re essentially feeling him up and quickly drew your hand back. 

König blushed at the soft touch, and again at your mumbled admiration. Not for the first time in his life he was thankful for the mask that covered his face. 

“Uhm,” you cleared your throat and focused, “this was the heaviest box! I thought it would be best to start with that one! So I got it, really. Thank you, though.” 

You smiled at him again and König decided then that he liked seeing you smile. “The food can wait. I don’t mind helping.” He offered one more time, that seemed to be the pattern with you.

Honestly, why were you even saying no to this hunk of man? Sure, you couldn’t see his face, but the form fitting long sleeved shirt he wore did little to hide just how fit he was. So you hummed and hedge, “I really don’t want to be an imposition-” 

“You won’t.”

You smiled again, not a kind polite one like before, but bright and happy. He definitely liked your smile. “Well, in that case, König, I’d love your help!” 

His stomach flipped at your words and smile, and he felt himself blushing even harder. He knew why. It wasn’t often that cute civilian women smiled at him like that. It was nice to have the attention of a pretty woman, even if nothing more came of it, as he expected. 

“Let me put this down,” he lifted the bag of food a bit and you nodded, “sure!” 

Out in the hall he paused and waited for you to lock the door. You scoffed playfully and obliged him, “really, someone taking those broken plates off my hands would be a blessing.” 

He smirked but didn’t humor you, he wasn’t going to encourage your carelessness; what if something happened while he wasn’t around? 

With König’s help it didn’t take long to bring up the rest of the boxes. The man doubled up on boxes on both trips while you carried light bags and just opened doors for him. 

As he set the rest of the boxes down in the living room, you were rummaging through one of the bags you carried up, until you pulled out a wallet. “Thank you so much, König, let me pay you for all your help.” 

“No.” He shook his head and raised a hand to refuse your payment, “it was my pleasure.” 

Pleasure? Damn, where was this guy when you were moving out too? 

“König,” you draw out his name in a small pout. “How can I repay you, then?” 

Once again a wave of excitement rushed through him. He couldn’t help the inappropriate thoughts that ran through his mind for a second, that influenced his answer. “Have dinner with me.” 

Normally he wasn’t so forward with women, and never with civilian women. But you were nice, and didn’t seem to be scared of him, and besides, he saw you checking him out at least once! 

You were a little surprised by the request but smiled nonetheless. “Dinner? Sure, when-” 

“Now.”

“Now?” Well now you’re really surprised. “König, are you offering to share your dinner with me?”

He looked around the apartment, the only thing you had were a few boxes, and shrugged. “What else will you eat?” 

Oh. He had a point. You’re sure if you dug around in one of your bags, you could find a forgotten energy bar somewhere, but you didn’t have any real food around. “Well, ok. That’s true. Are you sure I can’t pay you? I feel like the person roping others into helping them move is supposed to pay for dinner.” 

“No.”

You shrugged, “well, alright then. Let’s go. Oh, unless you want to eat here? I can offer premium seating on the floor!” 

He chuckled and moved towards the door, holding it open for you. He once again waited for you to lock the door before leading you to his flat.

205 was a different layout than yours. It was one of the bigger flats with two bedrooms, two baths, a spacious living room and open kitchen. His place was nicely furnished, one of the first things that caught your eye was the big leather sectional in the living room. It was one of those deep couches, which made sense, considering how tall he was. 

The table and chairs that he motioned for you to sit at were also clearly chosen to accommodate his size. You practically had to climb into the chair, and could easily kick your feet while he grabbed the food and some plates.

He had been so efficient in helping you, that even with the short delay, the food was still warm. You thanked him again and started to dig in when he set a plate in front of you. It’s only after your first bite that you noticed he was eating by lifting his mask for every bite. 

Oh. “I’m sorry.” 

He hummed, confused by your sudden apology. “Why?” 

You gestured to your face, “you probably take off your mask when you’re alone in your home.” 

Warmth bloomed in his chest. You were concerned about him? Of course you were, you were nice. A pretty, nice girl who didn’t want to be an imposition on him, who worried about his comfort, who didn’t lock her door. 

He shook his head, “don’t worry about that. It is not a problem.” 

There was something intense about his stare as he answered you, so intense that you dropped the matter and quickly finished your meal. He matched your pace, finishing his meal just as you finished yours.

You opened your mouth, you were going to thank him again and bid him goodnight, he was sure, but he spoke first. “Want a beer?” 

“Oh. Sure.” 

You smiled at him again, causing his blood to thrum in his veins. He wanted to remember your smile for the next time he was on a mission. The other men would brag about their women, and he had no one to think of, but now your pretty smile would keep his mind company. 

Once you had your beer, you glanced around the apartment, taking it in. He had nice taste, the furniture was high quality, and even the TV looked like it was on the expensive side. Whatever he did, he was doing well for himself. But your eyes kept getting drawn to the couch. Maybe because you were currently lacking furniture yourself, it just looked so comfortable.

“König,” you started, not looking directly at him, “can I sit on your-” 

Face? Dick? Yes, whatever you wanted, “yes.” He answered as you finished your question, “-couch?”  

Oh. He deflated and took a breath to calm down. Of course you weren’t asking him to fuck you right now. 

You set your beer down and moved to the living room. “It just looks so comfy.” You explained as you sat down and pushed yourself back into the firm cushions. You chuckled to yourself as your feet hovered off the ground when you were seated all the way back. Yea, this couch was definitely meant for taller people. 

He grabbed your beer and set it down on the coffee table in front of you, to which you flashed him with another brilliant smile. He grabbed the TV remote and turned it on, “movie?” 

You looked at him as he sat down next to you, his knee gently bumping into yours. “Dinner and a movie? Careful, König, I might start thinking this is a date.” 

He laughed, boisterously, nervously, but relieved that you laughed with him. 

The movie was of no consequence, but he felt encouraged every time you giggled at one of his jokes. By the time he was done with his second beer, he wasn’t even paying attention to the movie, instead he was telling you stories about his missions, nothing classified of course, but the way you stared at him with wide eyes, shining in anticipation as if he were more interesting than the handsome man on the television fueled him. At one point he even rolled up his shirt to show you a nasty scar on his side. 

You gasped, eyes wide and looked up at him a little flustered as you asked him if it had hurt too bad.

“Ah, it was nothing! I barely felt it!” He assured you and cleared his throat as he rolled his shirt back down. 

“Wow! That’s crazy!” You exclaimed as you shifted in your seat too.

His eyes flickered down for a moment and he noticed the way your thighs squeezed together before you found a comfortable position. You were closer to him now, and when he draped his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers brushing your shoulder, you didn’t move or give any indication that you were uncomfortable. He grinned to himself, nervous adrenaline finding its way into his blood and he had to actively stop himself from bouncing his knee.  

And that adrenaline faded as you nodded off to sleep next to him. Well, you had mentioned that you’d been driving all day, moving. So naturally as soon as you were comfortable you fell asleep. 

He was only slightly disappointed, it was still a better night than he could have hoped for otherwise.

-

You woke to the sound of your phone buzzing. Your morning alarm. You sighed, you still had time before you really had to wake up, so you snuggled right back into bed. It was so soft and warm, but the temperature in the room was bordering cold, which made the warm and heavy blankets even more inviting. The subtle scent of peppermint and vanilla-

Wait!

You quickly sat up, eyes wide in confusion as you looked around a room you had never seen before. It took a moment for last night’s events to come back to you. Oh! This must be König’s room…but he was nowhere around.

You straightened out the bed, feeling slightly guilty about climbing into such a nice bed in your street clothes.

“König?” 

“Good morning!” He called from the kitchen.

You followed his voice, glancing at the couch on the way to the kitchen and saw that there was a pillow and blanket folded neatly on one of the cushions.

“Did you sleep on the couch?” You asked once you were near the kitchen, stopping on the other side of the island counter. Like you, he was dressed in the same clothes as last night, mask and all, probably hadn’t wanted to wake you.

“Yes.” 

“You should have just woke me up. Sorry I kicked you out of your room. Did you carry me to bed?”

“Yes. Breakfast?” He asked just as he flipped an egg.

You glanced away and fought down a blush. What you’d give to have him carry you to his room while you were awake! 

“No, thank you.” 

“Are you sure?”

“I still have a lot of stuff to take care of, I should get started.”

“Oh.” He sounded so disappointed, and even his shoulders drooped a little.

You chuckled, “but thanks to you, I’m starting the day so refreshed!”

“Me?”

“Yea.” You nodded and smiled at him again, just like you did last night. “Your bed is so comfortable!”

“You like my bed?” 

“Mmhmm!” You flashed him a devious smile this time, “maybe next time you can join me.” 

The clatter of the spatula falling to the floor and him scrambling to grab it, echoed over your cute giggle. By the time he was standing up again, you were already by the door. “Bye, König!” 

“G-goodbye!” He stuttered after you, already dreaming of what next time would entail. 

[mechaprincessgirlgutsgore0]

You move into a new apartment and your roommate is a synth. She’s been on nanobot HRT for 8 years now and is fully mechanised. She goes to the mechanic for checkups, she plugs herself into charge every night, and she has to keep her lubricant, hydraulic fluid and coolant topped up. On top of all this, she’s 5 years older than you and beautiful, so you’re a little bit in love but you don’t want to make it weird.

you two make friends quickly. you have a lot of shared interests, and a similar sense of humor. before becoming a synth she loved cooking, so as a token of your friendship she insists on making food for you. as a cash-strapped young professional in the city, you take it, of course.

as the weeks pass you find yourself getting closer to her. you two really get along, and as you settle into living together, you become more emotionally open to her. sometimes you even help her with minor repairs.

after a few months you notice some things start to feel off. was your skin always this hard and shiny? did your knees and shoulders always make these strange noises? did your body always generate this much heat in those places?

sometimes you almost feel like your brain is rewiring itself — i mean, they do say that your frontal lobe develops throughout your early twenties. it’s probably not a big deal.

at some point your bedframe breaks. you try resting on your mattress on the floor for a few nights, but sleeplessness on top of a developing general fatigue is wearing you down.

your roommate suggests sleeping in her bed. you’re taken aback at the offer at first— i mean, really? are you sure you’d be okay with that? she insists she doesn’t mind, and with your head spinning from tiredness and embarrassment you follow her to the bedroom.

there you have the best night’s sleep of your life. at first you try and stay apart in the bed, but she keeps encouraging you to come closer. she wraps a hard plastic arm around your chest, and you blush. is this what love feels like? she whispers in your ear. “goodnight, babe~”. it feels strangely appropriate coming out of her mouth.

in the morning you feel fully recharged and refreshed, like nothing you’ve ever felt before. from now on you sleep in her bed. you keep getting closer to each other. she grips your thigh while you sleep. she starts playing with your pussy. you don’t ask her to do any of this, but you let her. it just feels right.

something seriously seems up with your body at this point. your skin is as hard as rock, and begins developing strange patterns of ridges around your body. your movements feel stiff, yet more precise. your vision seems almost superhuman, yet your taste and smell have almost disappeared altogether.

one night she asks if you’d like to have sex. for real, this time. you’ve talked about kinks before. she offers to dom, and you’re happy with that. nervously, you ask to be tied up. she smiles wryly. “sure thing. but I can do you one better. you’ll see.” what could she possibly mean?

as you relax on the bed waiting for her, you look over to the nightstand. a couple of toys, along with an assortment of screwdrivers, wire cutters and a prybar. something isn’t adding up. before you have time to think, she walks in, and straddles your thighs.

“now, sweetie, before we start there’s something you should know about~”

she takes a screwdriver from the nightstand. before you even have time to react, she jabs it below your belly button. you wince and brace for a sharp jab of pain, but it does not come. instead, you watch in horror as the screwdriver digs beneath your hardened skin, prising the strange ridge apart. she twists the screwdriver upwards, popping the panel cleanly off your body, to reveal a tangled mess of cables, circuitboards and modules, dappled in a pattern of flashing LEDs.

“hmm… well, I’m proud of my work, if you’re not. you make a very pretty sexbot. there’s just a few things that will need adjusting~” She says, while reaching for your new chest cavity. Instinctively, your arms jolt to block her from messing with your internals.

“Hey-hey-hey now… calm down, my little toy, there’s no need to be so defensive… if you’re going to be like that, i might as well~” she moves her hands to grab your upper arms, and squeezes next to a seam. you feel a mechanism click, and your arms slide neatly out of their sockets.

“there we go. let’s be a good little machine, now.” she reaches down to your crotch, and thrusts two fingers in. but, instead of massaging your insides, she goes deeper, until you feel another click, and your crotch slides out like another replaceable module. you moan softly as she pulls out, her fingers dripping with synthetic lubricant.

“just one last thing~” she says, staring you in the eyes lovingly. her dexterous hands move up to hold the side of your face. she feels around for something, until finally trying to prise her fingers beneath a seam next to your ear. you feel another click, and your plastic face plate slides out of its socket.

“We won’t be needing that anymore. Not if I need to replace your mouth hardware, which, I will, of course… you’d be a terrible kisser otherwise!

Now, what to do with you. I can’t just let you back out into the world, not now that you know what you’ve become… that won’t do. You wouldn’t like that, would you, machine?

Instead I could turn you into a dumb little sexbot. slow down your processor, tune up your sensors… wouldn’t that be nice?

Just as long as you’re not naughty~ otherwise I’d have to sell you, or scrap you for parts. there’s a lot of valuable components inside you, you know that? you’re much more of an asset than you realise.

Let’s get your throat lubricant injectors fitted for now… there’s a lot more that needs doing, but I just have to see you dressed up in this bunnysuit and fucked to pieces… you’d like that, sexbot, wouldn’t you?”

[strxwberry-milku]

🎀 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖🎀

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Roman Reigns,Jey Uso and Jimmy Uso

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In which we explore the things the boys like during sex

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Daddy kink!,Spitting,Spanking, Face slapping( not too hard tho)and plenty more.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,365

౨ৎ 𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐘 𝐔𝐒𝐎౨ৎ

1. 𝐇𝐞’𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡,𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬: “comon baby, I know you can do it” he groaned out as he gripped unto your waist watching as you struggled to take his full member, you whine out in return as you placed your two hands on his chest in hopes of steadying yourself on his thick cock “ I’m trying daddyyy, your dick is to biggg”. Rolling his eyes he braced himself upwards and gripped your hips even tighter “I guess i just have to do it myself ” and with that being said he started to piston in and out of your sloppy hole in such a way that you couldn’t even scream, the only sounds escaping your mouth was pathetic little gasps.” reaching his hands down, he gripped unto your rounded ass and presented a harsh smack on your left cheek “that’s it baby, let daddy hear all those moans” your eyes rolled at the back of your head as your head was swarming with static noises and your vision blurry.

2. 𝐇𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 : He smirked as he watched your tears trickle down your face, It was such a turn on for him because he knew only he could make you cry in pleasure like this , the way you looked so fucked out and cock drunk made him so weak to his knees. He leaned down close to your face and used one of his hands to grip your jaw “ Awwww is my little baby bout to cum all over daddies dick,hmm?” he faked pouted as he continued his assault against your aching pussy,when he didn’t get a response he gave a little smack against your swollen clit, grunting he said “ I said are.you.going.to.cum.on.daddies.dick?”with every syllable he uttered was a long and harsh stroke inside your quavering pussy. “ YES DADDY I AM” you screamed out in exasperation as you felt as though any second you would explode all over his cock and paint it white. Laughing at your expression he lightly tapped his hand on your cheek,his eyes bore deep into yours and he cruelly smirked down at you “ then come baby”.

𝜗𝜚 𝐉𝐄𝐘 𝐔𝐒𝐎𝜗𝜚

1. 𝐇𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲: You whimper at the cold sensation of whip cream being poured down your centre.He watched as your eyes rolled back in euphoria as he continued his attack on your puffy clit,you felt like your soul was being sucked out of you,you gripped unto his black locks as your legs trembled and shook; your legs almost closed around his head if not for him grabbing unto them tightly,he let out a hum in delight and closed his eyes as his tongue prodded deep into your tight hole , relishing the sweet taste from the whip cream mixed with your delicious nectar he began lapping at your pussy faster like a starved man“ keep them legs open for me ma,I wanna be able to suck up all of your juices” you wanted to come right then and there,he always knew the right words to say.

2. 𝐇𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦: It comes a time when a couples sex life becomes some what boring,so why not spice it up by wearing scandalous outfits?. “ That’s it mama,twirl around fa daddy” he huskily whispers,as his eyes slowly rake up and down taking in your two piece,lace pink lingerie that you brought from victoria secret, his breath shudders as he leans back on the bed enjoying the little show your putting up for him, if it’s a show he wants then it’s a show he will certainly get.Slowly licking your lips you teasingly fiddle with the panty straps and gaze into his eyes, kissing his teeth in annoyance he leans back up “ ma stop playin wit me before I cut this shit short and fuck you into next week” now as much as you would like that, you loved to see him all riled up also, so you continued your teasing,much to his dismay. Turning around you bend over allowing him to see your pussy print and the little wet stain that accumulated over time by seeing him so eager to fuck you, he let out a groan as his hands immediately went down to palm his crotch to try and calm down his raging boner;giggling deviously at his reaction you begin to slowly drag down your panties,making sure to spread your legs a little wider so he can see your already wet lips “you like what you see daddy?” oh you were so naughty,taunting someone who you know would not hesitate to break your back in for 40 days and 40 nights was not the way to go,but oh well,if he’s the one doing it to you then I guess it’s fine.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐍⋆. 𐙚 ˚

1. 𝐇𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤: You loved seeing your man like this…all pussy drunk and hazy from the sinful words that were spilling out of your mouth,it made you feel all powerful seeing the mighty warrior Roman Reigns being so responsive and vulnerable under you. A sense of pride washed over your body like viscous waves hungrily sweeping over anything that got between it’s way; the way his eyes were squeezed tight and mouth hung open allowing you to see his pretty rows of teeth neatly arranged and his pretty pink tongue patiently sat inside waiting like a preying lion ready to strike out at any second, you couldn’t resist the urge,so you leaned a bit up and angled your mouth above his and allowed your spit to dribble into his awaiting gob, you moaned in pleasure as you watched him close back his mouth and swallowed it. You stifled a laugh at the scene in front of you, knowing that if he heard your mockery he would surely snap out of whatever trance he was in and ruin the fun for you. His body wracked and pulsed under your touch as you raked your nails up and down his back which in return elicited pitiful whines from the man under you. Leaning down close to his ear you allowed your tongue to lol out its cave and slowly graze it against the shell of his ear “ Awww is my baby about to cum?” you taunted making sure to tighten your self even more around him . curses flew rapidly out of his mouth like a mantra as his cock pulsed inside you from your delicious words, it rang in his ears like a sweet tune. Humming in satisfaction you barked out a command “ cum for me daddy,paint your pussy white,ruin my insides so that no other man except from you has the access to make it this wet ” with a deep groan he flung his head back and began to spurt his creamy load deep inside you.

2. 𝐇𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭: If there’s one thing that Roman likes, Is putting a bratty girl like you in their place. Stepping inside the elevator he groans in frustration as he watches as you throw a little temper tantrum at not being able to get your favourite victoria secret spray.Turing around to face him you shout “ I told you I wanted that spray! you never listen to me!” you shouted and rolled your eyes in irritation as you crossed your arms. You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears, In just a split second he had you pressed against the elevator wall with his hand clasped firmly around your neck. His warm breath fanned against your face as you watched his jaw clench and his stern eyes bore deep into yours “ I suggest you knock off that little attitude you have baby, I told you I would get you the perfume later, but seeing as though you wanna act like a brat I might just change my mind” scrunching up your face, you open your mouth to let out a complaint but that was quickly stopped when you felt his mouth against yours. Gasping out for air you look up breathlessly into his brown, maroon eyes “ please daddy” you desperately whimpered ; he barked out a laugh, were you serious right now? YOU wanted to cum when YOU were showing off the whole day? you must take him for a fool. Peering down at you he let out a mocking laugh “ you must have lost your mind if you think that you will get to cum today baby” groaning in frustration you pout and turn your head away from him. The elevator pinged signalling that you were at your final destination; quickly removing his hand from your neck he whispers “I’ll see how you act by the end of the day, and maybe just maybe! i’ll see if you deserve this dick”.

BEFORE YALL GET ON MY ASS, I have been busy with work and shi.So I decide to write y’all a lil sum to apologise.

But….hopefully for da halloween season I will return on my grind.

[leahwllmsn]

next to you

leah williamson x reader

Just when you start to patch things up with your ex, an accident happens.

; angst, mentions of car accident & injuries

“Keira?”

“y/n.”

You become more alert when Keira speaks. She sounds like she has been crying, her voice is hoarse and you can tell the urgency behind it despite having only heard one word.

You’re scared to ask, but you brace yourself and hope that it’s nothing bad. “What’s wrong?”

It takes a few seconds for Keira to answer, all you can hear is her heavy breathing.

“It’s Leah.”

And you really wish Keira had stayed silent just a bit longer.

“What—Leah? What happened?”

Keira lets out a shaky exhale and you want to cry at the thought that something bad has happened to Leah.

“Just… meet me here, it’s uhm—I forgot the name of the hospital—”

“Hospital?” you immediately stand up, your hands going to the nearest wall to steady yourself. You hear commotion on the other end of the call and your heart starts to beat erratically in your chest.

What is happening?

“Keira?” you’re on the verge of tears. You two were fine last night. Leah was perfectly fine. “Keira, please say something.”

“y/n? I’ll text you in a bit. The doctors are here. I have to go.”

Keira’s voice is a faint sound that you can’t concentrate on anymore. The only thought going through your head is that something has happened to your…Leah and you have to get to the hospital as soon as possible.

—

The moment you read Keira’s texts, you hurriedly leave your apartment, all the while trying to reply to Keira as best as you can with shaking hands.

You don’t ask Keira anything else, just a simple ‘where are you’, and once Keira answered, you don’t hesitate to run all the way there because thank god, it’s only two blocks away from your place and you wonder just how long you spend going about your day thinking that everything is fine when Leah is fighting for her life a few blocks away—

No. You quickly rid yourself of the thoughts. Leah is fine.

You’ll show up at the hospital lobby, ask for a ‘Leah Williamson’ and they’ll tell you which room she’s in and you’ll see her there, sitting on the hospital bed, maybe a few bandages on her smooth skin, yet her dazzling smile plasters her face.

You’ll then chastise her for being so clumsy and reckless and you’ll give her a hug—because you spent the whole day together but not once were you brave enough to give Leah a big, tight hug when you knew she was expecting it as you parted ways at the end of the night

(You don’t want to think about the possibility of Leah not being able to hug you back.)

Yeah. Everything is going to be okay.

But once you arrive at the hospital and you ask the nurses for a ‘Leah Williamson’ and they tell you she is in the ICU, you feel the scenario you were watching in your head disappear just like that.

Leah isn’t fine. It’s not going to be okay. It’s far from that if Leah is in the intensive care unit and you feel dread taking over you, making every step towards Leah a grueling task.

You spot Keira first. She’s on the floor, leaning against the wall opposite to the doors where Leah is. Her face is pale, hugging her knees tightly as she rocks herself back and forth. You’ve never seen her like this. Keira is always full of composure, never wearing her heart on her sleeves.

But now you can see that Keira is afraid. She looks terrified and worst of all, Keira looks hopeless.

You force yourself to stay calm and not jump to conclusions. So what if Leah is placed in the ICU? So what if Keira’s face is so panic-stricken and pale and her eyes puffy from all the crying? It could all mean nothing.

For all you knew, Leah is seconds away from getting discharged and then you can have lunch together at this new restaurant that you want to bring Leah to because you know Leah will love it.

But then Keira looks up, her eyes meeting yours, it’s finally sinking in that it may be more serious than what you let yourself to believe.

The next thing you know, Keira is hugging you, sobbing silently into your chest. “She won’t wake up, y/n.”

No.

“I was supposed to pick her up, but she said she’d call an uber instead. I don’t know what happened, y/n, I really don’t. I got a phone call saying she was in a car accident—” you can feel Keira hugging you tighter. Or maybe it’s you who did, you don’t know anymore.

“I got here as soon as I could. She was already in the operating room when I got here, and uhm, she has injuries to her head and chest. I overheard them saying that she was bleeding from her chest when they brought her in. And I had to go earlier because the doctors went out. They said they had to stop the surgery because they said she needs time to recuperate or something, I don’t remember. I don’t really want to know the specifics. I just understood that they stopped the surgery in order to prevent her from bleeding to death on the operating table—”

You grimace and take a sharp intake of breath. It’s getting harder to listen to what Keira is saying.

And it seems like Keira understands how overwhelmed you are because she loosens her grip on you and steps back. “Sorry. That was too blunt,” she wipes away her tears and looks at you apologetically. “I also didn’t mean to bombard you with everything. I know it must be hard hearing all this.”

“It’s okay,” your voice is barely a whisper. You’re afraid you’ll burst into tears. “I need to know.”

Keira takes a deep breath before continuing. “They’re keeping her in the ICU for 24 hours. If she lives—if she’s stable enough, basically, they’ll operate on her again.”

“If she lives?”

Keira merely shrugs in response and you feel your eyes brimming with hot tears. You can’t lose Leah. Not like this.

“Can I—” you clear your throat. “Can I see her?”

“You can, but just… Brace yourself, I guess. She’s connected to a bunch of machines, and she has a ventilator on to help her breathe. It’s not a pretty sight.”

You nod slowly, trying to understand the severity of it all. “I just want to hold her hand. I can do that, right?”

“Yeah, you can,” Keira flashes you a smile. You can see the tears welling in her eyes. “Hold her hand as tight as you can, will you? Maybe she’ll come back to you.”

You blink away your own tears at that. How you wish that’s possible.

With one last look at Keira, you push the doors open.

The first thing you take a note of is, apart from the beeping and the hum of the machines, it’s eerily quiet. You walk slowly, not daring to lift your head up. Maybe you shouldn’t be here. Even Keira waited outside, that must be an indicator of how horrible being in this room must be.

But you decide that you should stop being a coward. Leah needs you. You aren’t going to run away again. So stopping at the foot of the hospital bed, you slowly lift your head up.

It doesn’t sink in at first. The figure on the bed looks so much like Leah, but she also doesn’t. You almost don’t recognize her with the tubes connected to her body and the bandages on her head. There were cuts as well as patches of purple and blue bruises all over her pale skin. One particular cut stood out, it’s on her left cheekbone and you’re sure Leah will complain about it if she’s awake.

You understand why Keira seems like she doesn’t want to step in the room.

You make your way to the side of the bed. You sit down on the chair and for a few seconds, you stay still. Everything is finally sinking in.

Leah is here in front of you, but at the same time, she’s not.

Leah is dying and you can’t do anything but sit next to her and hold her hand and wish that she will wake up. You try your best to ingrain to your memory what it feels like to have Leah’s hand in your grip.

And finally, a tear escapes your eyes. You blame it on the fact that Leah would always squeeze your hand back but this time it stays there, limpless.

“I know we just saw each other yesterday, but I miss you,” you chuckle through your tears that are now freely flowing down your cheeks. “I miss you, and your damn smile, and your stupid sarcastic remarks.”

You grip Leah’s hand tighter.

“You’ll come back to me right, Leah? You have to.” you hope Leah is able to hear you. “I have so many stories to tell you, yesterday wasn’t enough for me. Did you know that I went back to London a few months ago? I didn’t tell you, obviously. We hadn’t talked in so long.

“Beth told me that you were scheduled to have a Ted Talk. You were brilliant. I mean, I’ve always known that, but seeing you up there in front of thousands of people… you were so eloquent and so damn brilliant. I could tell that your smile wasn’t as bright as before though. I blamed myself for taking your happiness away from you.”

You keep your gaze on the blonde’s face. Despite everything, Leah is still the most gorgeous person you have ever seen. “I’ll do anything to get you smiling again, you know that right? I’ll do anything, Lee, even if it means switching places with you. I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

—

two years ago

“y/n!” Leah shouted, not caring about all the heads that turned in her direction.

You stood still. From across the street, Leah could see you wiping away the tears that were flowing down your face. Leah wanted nothing more than to be the one doing that, to hug you close and tell you that everything will be okay.

But the moment Leah stepped forward, you quickly turned around to make your way back inside the building.

“y/n!” Leah shouted once more, though this time it sounded more like a plea.

Leah stepped into the street, but she had to immediately step back because of the cars that rushed by her. Her eyes darted around until they landed on the intersection and she ran towards it.

Leah repeatedly pushed the button on the traffic light pole, hoping it will allow her to cross faster, all the while keeping her eyes on the spot where you stood earlier.

At the back of her mind, she knew that she was too late. She knew you were already inside your friend’s apartment, somewhere Leah couldn’t get into because she didn’t have the access keys. But Leah wasn’t the type to give up that easily, so she had to try to do something.

Once the light changed and the cars stopped moving, Leah sprinted across the street, bumping into people and muttering rushed apologies.

She arrived at where you stood. She tried to catch her breath as she stared into the doors of the building that was tightly closed. From the window on the door, she could see mailboxes and an elevator that would take her to where you were.

But Leah couldn’t do anything but stand there helplessly. It killed her and she didn’t know that it could hurt this much to know that she was too late. She knew you wouldn’t want to see her anymore—you made that clear enough when you told her you were leaving the country to play football in Paris. You made it clear that you wanted to start fresh and that meant leaving Leah behind.

Leah placed her forehead on the door, letting out a heavy sigh and tried her best to not let anymore tears fall.

“y/n…” she muttered. “Why?” Leah knew you couldn’t hear her but she couldn’t help it; she let out everything she was feeling, including the tears that she tried so hard to suppress. “I love you. I’ll give up anything for you. Isn’t that enough?”

Leah wiped away her tears and walked away from the doors. She took a deep breath. She had to calm down, she had to if she wanted to think of ways to get you back.

But with every thought of you and every flash of your smile and your eyes and your laugh in her mind, Leah’s breath started getting heavier and heavier until she couldn’t handle it anymore and she let out a scream.

“Why?!” Leah looked up at the building. She screamed as loud as she could, hoping that you could hear her. “I hate you, y/n! I fucking hate you!”

Leah sobbed, clutching her chest. It hurt. It felt like there was a knife through her heart and that no matter how hard she tried, she wasn’t able to pull it out.

“I hate you… I hate you. I hate you.” Leah dropped to her knees, unable to stop crying. She knew no matter how much she said it, she would never mean those words.

Leah contemplated sitting there, in front of the apartment doors, waiting for you, because you had to come out sooner or later. But she decided against it. She already looked pathetic enough, and she wasn’t going to wait until someone finally recognized her and took pictures of her in her most pitiful state.

She was Leah Williamson and Leah Williamson didn’t cry on the side of the street, hair in a mess, eyes all puffy.

So Leah stood up and swallowed all her tears instead of letting them fall freely.

Leah was good at everything, she captained her country to the Euros championship, for fuck’s sake. Leah knew all the right things to say and she knew what shouldn’t be said out loud. Leah knew a lot of things and she had everything one would want in life.

She had the perfect house growing up. She had the best family, the perfect support system. And with her newfound fame, anything she wanted, she’d get and anything she got bored of, she could just throw without a second thought. There wasn’t anything she couldn’t have.

But walking back to her car that day, Leah felt like knowing the answers to everything and being able to have anything she wanted was useless. All the fame and fortune couldn’t get you back into her arms.

—

“Hey, have you eaten?”

Your head shoots up at the voice. You don’t realize you’ve fallen asleep.

“Yeah,” you reply, voice groggy from sleep. “I went to the cafeteria an hour ago.”

Keira smiles at you. You notice how she keeps on averting her eyes away from the hospital bed.

“Georgia’s here,” Keira informs you. “She was so confident about wanting to see Leah but I think the reality finally caught up to her.”

You lift an eyebrow in question.

“She’s outside, too scared of setting foot in the ICU,” Keira elaborates.

“You seem to be scared too earlier.”

“Yeah,” Keira trails off, standing next to you. Her eyes still aren’t landing on Leah’s figure. “I just feel so helpless. I hate feeling helpless.”

“Me too,” you sigh. “I’d like to think that me being here helps though.”

Keira hums. “I bet she appreciates it. She never would admit it, but she missed you a lot.”

“I missed her too.”

“Are you staying here tonight?” Keira asks.

“If that’s okay with you.”

“Of course,” Keira nods. You see the pain in her face when she finally does look at Leah. “I can’t stay in this room for too long. It feels suffocating. I don’t know how you do it.”

You shrug. “I want to spend every second with her. It does feel suffocating but it’s better than not being with her at all.”

Keira places a hand on your shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “Thank you. I’m sorry I can’t be here accompanying her too. I feel like I’m such a bad friend.”

“You’re not,” you immediately shake your head, your hand going to touch Keira’s. “Leah would understand.”

Keira’s eyes are shining with unshed tears, the sight amplifies the pain in your chest.

“I better go check on G.”

“Is she okay?”

Keira gives a small laugh. “She’s okay, just scared. Who isn’t though?”

“Yeah, I get it. It’s crazy to think that we might lose her,” your voice cracking as you voice your biggest fear out loud. “Do you… do you think she’ll make it?”

Keira stays quiet. You don’t think she’s going to answer until she lets out the biggest sigh. “I’d like to think so.”

“But?”

“Hm?”

“I just feel like there’s a ‘but’ somewhere in your sentence.”

Keira doesn’t answer this time, instead she averts her gaze away. You see her trying not to cry and you feel bad for bringing the topic up.

After a beat, you feel Keira squeeze your shoulder one more time before walking towards the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Once the door closes, you look back at Leah. “Are you ready for tomorrow, Lee?” You lean forward and brush strands of blonde hair away from Leah’s face. “You’re going to be strong for me, aren’t you?”

You take Leah’s limp hand in yours and kiss the back of it softly. “Maybe I should ask the nurses where I’ll be sleeping tonight. Although, I think I’m good here too. It’s just a bit cold. I’m sure you’re loving it though. Your apartment always felt like the north pole.”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? When you wake up… I’ll go wherever you go. I’d move back to London. We can travel the world together, just us two. How does that sound?”

Although there’s no answer and all you can hear is the beeping sound of the heart monitor, you feel hope blooming in your chest.

“We can go to Nashville, see that country music festival you’ve always wanted to go to. Even though you know how much I dislike country music, I’d suffer through it for you. Or… we can just stay at your apartment, here in London. I missed that place. We had so many good memories there. God, I’m so talkative today. Are you tired of hearing me speak? Maybe I should let you get some rest.”

You feel your heart getting lighter. You’re actually optimistic about things. It feels good to have hope.

“Goodnight, my Leah. I love you. I’ll see you real soon.”

—

three years ago

“Have you ever thought about what you would name your child?”

You looked away from the TV and to the blonde next to you. “That’s a random question.”

Leah shrugged, her hands finding yours, your intertwined hands resting between you on the sofa. “I’m just wondering. I think I want to name them after me.”

“Narcissistic much?” you teased, causing Leah to flick your forehead.

“Or Amanda,” Leah continued. “After mum.”

“Amanda is nice,” you nodded your head in thought. “I think I’d like to name mine Lily.”

“You’re naming your child after your cat?”

“After the flower, dummy,” you rolled your eyes. “You know they’re my favourite flowers.”

“What if you have a son instead of a daughter? Will you name it Streaky?”

You let go of Leah’s hand and gave the blonde’s shoulder a weak shove. “You’re making fun of me.”

“I’m not!” you heard Leah’s soft laughs, and the next thing you knew Leah was scooting closer, placing her arms around you. You felt a kiss on the side of your head and you immediately sighed in content.

“Streaky is cute though,” you pretended to be in thought, not really thinking of naming your son after your second cat.

“We are not naming our son Streaky,” Leah argued. “I was only joking!”

You raised an eyebrow at that. “Our son?”

“Mhmm.”

You looked at Leah. She had her attention back to the TV, some Netflix show was on, you couldn’t remember what you were watching anymore.

“Do you think our children will look like us?”

“Can we back up a second, babe,” you laughed. Your heart was doing somersaults. You two had never talked about kids before. “Our children?”

You saw the smirk on Leah’s face as she turned back to you. “Well we are together, aren’t we? Are you thinking of having children with other people, darling? I’m hurt.”

You shook your head at her ridiculousness. Ridiculous that she was able to talk about a serious topic with such ease and so full of confidence as if having children with you was something that was definitely going to happen.

You fell more in love with her if that was even possible. “I love you, Lee.”

“Amanda and Lily are cute names, aren’t they?”

“I just know they’re going to be stubborn and cocky, with egos as high as the Eiffel Tower. Just like their mother.”

Leah pulled away from the hug, her brows knitted. “Excuse me?”

“I’m kidding,” you grinned at the blonde before peppering kisses all over her face. “Even if I wasn’t, I would still love those parts of you.”

“Whatever.” Leah was trying her best to look annoyed but you could see the small smile on her lips.

“Are you getting tired of me already?” you pouted.

Leah immediately dropped her act and kissed away your pout. “No. Never.”

“Even if I just called you stubborn and cocky?”

“Yes,” Leah rolled her eyes. “As long as you don’t mind that about me.”

“I find it kinda hot actually.”

Leah pinched your nose at your statement, causing you to laugh. “What? I’m just telling the truth.”

Leah shook her head fondly at you. “I bet Amanda and Lily will have a thousand guys or girls lining up after them if they take after their mother’s flirting skills.”

“Oh, thank you,” you beamed at Leah. “I do have excellent flirting skills.”

“I was talking about me actually. Did you forget who made you blush 24/7?”

“Wipe that smug grin off your face, Williamsom.”

Leah hummed, placing a chaste kiss on your lips. “I’m so in love with you, y/n l/n.”

You couldn’t help the smile on your lips as you melted into the kiss and into Leah’s embrace. “Me too.”

“I can’t wait to meet Amanda and Lily Cathrine.”

You laughed at that. “Cathrine? We are not naming our daughter after you.”

“Pleaseee?”

You sighed, never able to say no when Leah gave you her puppy dog eyes. “Then it’s fair if Amanda has my middle name.”

Leah grinned at you. “You got yourself a deal, my love.”

—

Hour 1

You don’t notice when Keira and Georgia arrive. They are sitting next to you in the waiting room, you’re sure they’ve said something to you, but for now, you don't feel like talking to anyone.

You just need some time to regroup, to convince yourself that Leah will be fine and that the worry in your heart should calm down.

You will talk to Keira and Georgia later, you make a promise to yourself that you will.

Just not right now.

(Right now, you’re afraid that you’re actually going to lose Leah.)

Hour 2

“Georgia, stop fidgeting.”

“How can I? When we don’t know if she’ll make it.”

“Don’t say that. She will. Weren’t you the one who said that she’s strong? Of course she’ll make it.”

“She is. She’s strong. I’m just… I’m scared, Kei.”

“Yeah, well, so am I.”

Hour 4

“What’s taking them so long?”

“It’s only been 3 hours.”

You look up at the restless blonde. Georgia has been walking back and forth for the past hour, while Keira is sitting next to you, her knees bouncing up and down.

You haven’t uttered a single thing. The whole time you have just been watching them silently.

It’s sad, you think. They are so used to being a trio that without Leah, it all feels incomplete.

Georgia would say a thousand words per minute about what might happen and Keira would reassure her that everything would be fine. Then within the same hour, it would be Keira who was stressing out over Leah and Georgia was there to calm her down.

It’s another sad thing, you think. Despite it all, they have each other to lean on. You have no one.

The only person you wanted is lying in an operating bed as doctors try to keep her alive.

Hour 6

Returning from the bathroom, you see two men in scrubs having a conversation with Keira and Georgia.

“We’ve done everything we can,” you can hear one of them say. “Now we just have to wait for her to wake up.”

“When will she wake up?” It’s Georgia who asks.

You’re now standing next to her, your thoughts running everywhere now that you know the surgery is over.

“We cannot say,” the other doctor answers. “She’ll wake up when she’s ready.”

You tune out everything after that. You can faintly hear Keira asking more detailed questions about the recovery period, but how could you think about the recovery when Leah hasn’t even woken up? Who knows if she will even wake up.

At that thought, you immediately snap your head towards the two doctors and ask something that you aren’t sure you want the answer to. “Is there a possibility that she won’t ever wake up?”

It’s a long ten seconds before you have your answer.

You feel like you shouldn’t have asked.

“I’m afraid that the possibility is always there.”

Hour 7

There isn’t a lot of difference with Leah’s appearance since the last time you saw her this morning. Still beautiful, you’d argue. But aside from that, everything is still the same—Leah still has that cut on her left cheekbone, she still has that bandage on her head and her hand is still not squeezing your hand back.

The room is still cold and the sound of the machines is still the one accompanying you instead of Leah’s laughs.

“Since you just got out of surgery,” you speak, already used to not getting a reply. “You probably still want to rest some more, huh? You did a good job back there, love, you deserve to rest. But not for too long, okay? I’d miss you too much.

“I’ll be here when you wake up, Leah. Then you can tell me what you’ve been dreaming of all this time. I hope it’s nice, wherever you are.”

“Please wake up.”

Hour 10

“You can wake up anytime soon, Lee. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. I’ll follow you wherever you go, so you don’t have to be afraid of losing me anymore. As long as I have a say in it, you won’t lose me.”

Hour 12

“You should go home, mate,” Georgia says, her voice etched with worry. “Get freshen up.”

“Yeah,” Keira agrees. “We’ll stay here with her.”

“I’m good.”

You give them a tight-lipped smile and focus your attention back to Leah. There is no way that you’re leaving her.

“I’ll go with you,” Georgia offers. “Your place is near, right? It’ll be quick, it won’t even be an hour.”

“No thanks. I’m good right here.”

Hour 14

It seems like Georgia and Keira have very good persuading skills because the next thing you know, you’ve relented to go home—just to quickly shower and get a set of fresh clothes since you’re not sure how long you’re going to stay at the hospital.

You’re back at the hospital exactly half an hour later, your backpack over your shoulders and a fresh bouquet of roses in one hand.

You smile at the flowers you’re holding. You’re sure Leah will love it.

“Where’s Georgia?” you ask upon entering the room and seeing that Keira is alone.

You set your bag down and place the flowers on the table next to Leah. You bend down and place a kiss on Leah’s forehead.

“She went to get some food at the cafeteria,” Keira answers. “You should get something to eat too.”

You’re about to argue and say that you’re not hungry when your stomach betrays you and lets out a growl.

Keira laughs at you and you only smile sheepishly before stepping out of the room.

It’s easy to spot Georgia. She’s the only person who took up a table for six people all to herself.

“Hey,” you sit down in front of her. “What are you eating?”

“I have no idea..”

You give her a chuckle. “You don’t know what you ordered?”

Georgia shrugs, shoving her plate of food towards you. “It’s good though. We can share.”

You two eat in silence before a thought pops into your head and you look at her questioningly. “By the way, where is Amanda? Does she know what’s happened to Leah?”

“Yeah,” Georgia answers, mouth full of food. “She was visiting Jacob in Australia. They’re on the flight here.”

You hesitate for a few seconds before you decide to ask what’s on your mind. “Does Amanda hate me?”

Georgia raises her eyebrows at that. “You did break her daughter’s heart, mate.”

“I know,” you sigh. The answer is obvious but it still manages to leave an ache in your chest. Amanda was once the closest thing you had to a mother. “I hope she doesn’t hate me too much.”

You hope Leah will wake up so you can make up for everything you did wrong.

Hour 17

Leah still hasn’t woken up.

You would be lying if you say you aren’t losing hope.

Hour 20

“Is it naive of me to still have this hope in my chest when hours had passed and there are still no signs of you waking up? I’m not stupid for waiting, right Lee? You know that I’ll wait for you forever, but please don’t take too long. It’ll hurt too much.”

Hour 23

Georgia and Keira decide to go home and promise to return in a few hours.

You don’t mind being alone with Leah—you would take any chance to be with her. But the silence is getting too loud and you feel like screaming.

Because why is Leah still unconscious? It has almost been a day, it doesn’t make sense to you that she isn’t awake yet.

Your head is throbbing. You can’t get an inch of sleep. How can you when the love of your life isn't waking up?

“The sun is shining so brightly, I wish you could see this. It’s nice and warm. Wake up, love.”

Hour 25

You don’t want to cry. You’re afraid that crying means you’re giving up on Leah and you will never do that.

Leah is going to be alright so there is no need for you to be sad and cry.

But Leah is still lying there unconscious and all the scenarios of her not waking up came rushing in, and it becomes really hard for you to hold in your cry.

So you let out a sob. It’s quiet at first. But the pain in your chest keeps on multiplying as each second passes and the thought of having to live without Leah’s smile is getting more and more vivid.

“Leah… I’m begging you. I’ll do anything. Why won’t you wake up? Is it better over there? That’s why you don’t want to come back here? To come back to me?”

It hurts. Everything hurts. You don’t want anything else, you just want your Leah back.

“I love you,” your vision is blurry with tears. Your cry is getting louder and louder but you don’t care. You wish it’s loud enough to wake Leah up. “I love you. Isn’t that enough? Please wake up. Lee… Why won’t you fucking wake up?”

Then it happens. It’s a whisper you would miss if your crying hasn’t stopped.

“Why… are you crying?”

You turn to the source of the voice.

“Leah?”

“I love… you too. Stop… crying.”

And you can’t describe what you’re feeling when you finally feel Leah squeeze your hand again.

(You can’t stop crying, even when Georgia and Keira finally return to find their best friend awake.

You can’t stop crying because you don’t want to go through this again and the thought of it being over is filling your body with relief and you don't know what to do but to cry.

Most of all, you can’t stop crying because Leah’s smile is the most precious thing in the world and you’re glad that you’re ble to see it again.)

—

a few days ago

You greeted Leah with a shy “hello” and a tiny wave. You still couldn’t believe that Leah actually agreed to meet up with you—a part of you still felt that you didn’t deserve this chance.

“So where are we going?” Leah spoke in an indifferent manner, which you expected. It would take some time to knock her walls back down but you were willing to be patient, however long it would take.

“The arcade,” you answered, gesturing for Leah to follow you.

Leah looked confused. “The arcade?”

(You started to walk side by side and you almost forgot that you weren't supposed to reach out and intertwine your hands).

“Yeah,” you smiled at her. You hoped Leah couldn’t tell how nervous you were. “We never ended up going,” you saw Leah’s features relaxed slightly as she realized what you meant. “You remember right? That time when I went to the arcade with Guro and you got jealous.”

Leah rolled her eyes, the scowl on her face made you smile wider. “I wasn’t jealous.”

“Sure you weren’t.”

“Do they have food at the arcade?”

You gave a small laugh at the change in subject. Leah always turned moody everytime you brought up your friendship with the Chelsea player. Mostly because she didn’t like that you were fraternizing with the enemy—her words. You loved provoking her every time.

“Yes, they do have some plain toast with butter for you. I checked.”

“I’m just hungry,” Leah replied back, her tone annoyed. “I haven’t had breakfast.”

“They have food,” you reassured her. “And tea.”

“Cool.”

Despite the short responses, Leah’s voice didn’t hold as much bitterness as you were expecting and you were grateful for that.

You walked in silence, you came up with some jokes every now and then, trying to get more smiles out of the blonde.

It wasn’t until your tenth attempt that Leah let out a short laugh.

You wore a proud smile the rest of the way.

—

“You know, you haven’t apologized for stealing my breakfast.”

Leah stopped walking and stared at you confused. “What?”

“When we first met,” you clarified. “You stole my breakfast.”

“I didn’t do such thing.” Leah rolled her eyes.

“You did.”

“Well, I don’t exactly remember something that happened decades ago now do I?” Leah scowled at you, forever annoyed whenever you brought it up. You continued walking side by side, no particular direction in mind. “But I always let you take my breakfast!”

“But I never really did fancy your plain food, Lee,” you smiled fondly at the memory. “Anyway, back to what I was saying, you haven’t apologized.”

“Even though I didn’t do anything wrong, I apologized to you every time you brought up this argument just to annoy me.”

“You didn’t.”

“Mate, I did.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Whatever! I always let you take my breakfast! Which went on for years, if I may add.”

“So?” Leah rolled her eyes again and you laughed. “Your eyes will fall off if you keep on rolling them at me.”

“It’s because you’re annoying.”

“But you’re smiling so I must be doing something right.”

It was funny how Leah immediately dropped her smile. “I wasn’t smiling.”

“You were.”

“No. Just spasms.”

You chuckled at Leah’s response. After hours spent at the arcade, you felt that Leah had started to loosen up. You could see it with the way Leah wasn’t acting like standing next to you was the worst thing in the world anymore. Leah started to talk more too, you didn’t have to start the conversation to get the blonde to say something, and you were glad because you really wanted to hear Leah speak—you badly missed the sound of her voice.

“Where are we going next?”

You tilted your head in thought. You didn’t know—your plan had only consisted of going to the arcade. You figured Leah would get tired of you by then and you would just head back, but Leah was still here, not looking like she wanted to leave.

You racked your brain of where you could take her next and when a thought came up you grinned. “I know a place.”

“What is it?”

“You’ll see.”

“Why don’t you just tell me?” Leah sounded impatient.

“You’re no fun,” you pouted. “The place reminds me of you, that’s all I’m saying.”

—

“Why does a florist remind you of me?”

“Because you smelled like roses,” you answered, picking up a single red rose. “You still do.”

“That’s ridiculous. I do not.”

You grinned up at her. “I was trying to be romantic.”

Leah scoffed, looking away. You smiled to yourself when you could see the faint blush on Leah’s cheeks.

“Flowers are very symbolic,” you continued. “You can express a lot of things with them. Sometimes you don’t even have to say anything because the flowers can speak for you. I think that’s amazing.” You looked at the colorful display of flowers in front of you. “This place reminds me of you because every time I come here, I think of everything I wanted to say to you but couldn’t.”

You could feel Leah’s gaze on you so you looked back and met Leah’s eyes. “Stop looking at me and look at the flowers. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Yeah.” Leah still hadn’t looked away so you were the first to break your eye contact. Leah’s gaze made you nervous.

“These are white tulips,” you pointed at the white flowers in a clear vase. “They can be used to seek forgiveness. I think about you a lot whenever I see one. These too,” you walked across the store to where a bouquet of purple flowers lay. “Purple hyacinth… ‘I’m sorry’, ‘please forgive me’...” you trailed off.

After a beat, you turned to Leah who was still staring at you intently.

“I’ve always thought of sending you some flowers, but I never had the courage to do it. I think a part of me is scared that you’ll end up throwing it away,” you took a deep breath and smiled. “I’ll do it today. I hope that’s okay with you.”

Leah didn’t reply, instead she took the single rose from your hand and brought it up to her nose, taking in its scent. “I love flowers,” she said, returning the rose to you. “And just so you know, if you did send me flowers, I don’t think I have it in me to throw them away.”

—

“Why red roses?”

“Aren’t they your favourite? I know you love white roses too, but I think the red ones are more fitting here.”

“How so?”

“Sometimes people have different interpretations of what a flower symbolizes, or their meaning might change over time… but this one stayed consistent. Everyone knows what red roses symbolize.”

“So what are you saying?”

“I’m not saying anything, Lee. I told you how symbolic flowers are, didn’t I? I’ll let them speak for me.”

When you saw the small smile on Leah’s lips, you knew that everything would be okay.

You couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life making it up to her.

—

sorry for any medical inaccuracies:)

I don’t really like this but oh well, hope it’s decent enough 🫶🏼

[rememberwren]

Ghoap x Reader. Let's talk aftercare.

I said, how would aftercare work if the scene ends before it begins?

CW: Simon's history of non-con, safewording, not much aftercare for aftercare being my primary focus tbh, established ghoap, fem!reader.

-

Ghost safewords and disappears into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. 

Johnny hasn’t even kneeled up onto the bed yet. You’re still wearing your robe. The scene which the three of you had planned with near religious fanaticism for the last two weeks had barely even begun, and now it has already ended. 

You and Johnny stare at each other with twin expressions of confusion. Johnny, quick and long used to Ghost’s unpredictability, rushes the door. He knocks and then braces his hands against the doorframe, head down. 

“Simon? Can I come in?” he calls through the oak. 

“It’s unlocked,” Ghost says back, scathing. The water faucet has been turned on, muffling his voice a little but not his tone. He’s furious. You can take a guess as to at whom. 

It isn’t his fault, though, you think. You sit on the edge of the bed, toying anxiously with the hem of your robe, any and all arousal having sublimated into thin air with Ghost’s safeword. It’s hard to believe that only a few minutes ago, the three of you had been setting up with excitement, eager to play—or had you? Had there been signs that Simon wasn’t in the right headspace? Should you have been looking more closely? You draw your knees up toward your chest, wrapping your arms around them, feeling hollow. 

“Prefer if you opened the door instead of me,” Johnny says calmly, a pillar of strength, stone strong amongst the uncertain shifting sands. 

The door jerks open. Johnny disappears inside and gives you a sheepish glance before he shuts the door behind him. It’s fine. You can wait out here. The hollow feeling inside your chest seems to grow and swell, throbbing in time with your heart like an angry bruise. You wished you were inside the bathroom too, a part of their duo, more than just a temporary fixture in their bedroom. Should you get dressed? God, should you leave? No—you couldn’t do that, not before making sure that Simon was okay. 

After nearly ten minutes of heated whispers back and forth, the door opens and the two trudge out of the bathroom. Simon can’t meet your eye. 

“Well,” says Johnny, rubbing the back of his own neck. “This has been enlightening. Time for aftercare?” 

“Doesn’t aftercare usually come after something?” Simon asks waspishly. “Didn’t even manage to fucking do anything.” 

“Prepared to do something, didn’t we?” says Johnny, like it is a simple matter. “Can we get you anything? W—”

“You can get the hell out.” 

You slip off the bed. You don’t need to be told twice. You find where your clothes are piled carefully on top of the dresser and slip your underwear on beneath the robe, feeling too raw to just let the slinky, silky fabric fall to your feet and bare you to the room. 

“It’s important, Simon,” Johnny says, calm and resolute. “The way you’re acting tells me you need it.” 

“I need you to stop yapping for once in your goddamn life,” says Ghost, dressing himself with jerky movements on the other side of the room. 

“Then do it for her, aye?” Who? you wonder, looking over your shoulder. There is only you. You glance over your shoulder to see that Simon has stopped dressing himself, top half still bare, eyeing down Johnny like a dog who hasn’t decided yet if he intends to fight or find the threat beneath him. Johnny tips his head toward you. “She needs it too. Can’t you tell?” 

Simon’s brow furrows, mouth dipping into an even deeper scowl. His eyes flicker towards you, but you are determined to show him that whatever Johnny is saying is wrong. He doesn’t need to let you do anything; you’re fine. You hadn’t even been the one to safeword! But whatever he sees on your face has his eyes going a little soft, his mouth a little less harsh. 

“Water, I guess,” he mutters. “‘M thirsty.” 

“I’ll get it,” says Johnny. When he passes you, he lets his hand rest on your shoulder, dragging softly from one shoulder blade to the other. He asks: “Will you stay with him?”

You nod. Johnny isn’t giving you much of a choice. Not for the first time, you resent his meddling, the near-omniscient way he seems to know what everyone needs even when you couldn’t say for yourself  what that is. 

Simon has seated himself on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. With his back turned, you feel fine to drop the robe and tug a shirt on. Carefully toeing your way around the bed, you stand beside him, frowning, unsure what you’re doing here. Why you’re here. Johnny should be here. You should be fetching water like Lassie.

Simon glances up at you, a flash of irritation. He heaves a sigh. “Not angry at you.” 

“I know,” you say. You’re pretty sure that’s true. 

“I’m doing every fuckin’ thing right. Why’s it still going wrong?” he wonders, letting his hands down to hang loosely between his legs. 

You step there, until he has to put his hands on your hips, until he can bury his face in your chest. You stroke reach up tentatively, stroking at his hair the soft, easy way that he likes. You’re no good with words—are just as likely to stutter over the wrong words as you are the right ones. 

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “I just know I’m not finished trying. Not if you aren’t.” 

He huffs a breath against you, turning to place his cheek and ear against your sternum. Your heart must be beating out of your chest, but he doesn’t mention it. Each of his slow, even breaths seems to melt away the icy hollow feeling inside your ribs.

“Thanks for stopping us,” you say, in case Johnny hasn't already. 

He looks up at you, dark, endless sort of eyes. He says: “Thanks for letting me.” 

You scratch his scalp softly, unable to respond. Johnny reappears, waters in hand.

[outsideratheart]

A Night To Forget (Leah Williamson x reader)

A/N: What a shit show that game was. What were they doing? They do know it was a must win in the title race right?

The tackle in this fic was based off this video.

Leah knew that she played a big part in Arsenal’s shocking performance. Never did she think she would let her frustrations take over in the way that they did. 

You were having a near perfect game with scoring the opener and assisting the other two goals. Arsenal were playing into your hands and they were making it easy for you to dance around the pitch. 

It was near the end of the game when the away team was beginning to get sloppy with their tackles. 

Erin had played you a lovely through ball and you were off. You saw Leah running at you but even she knew she wouldn’t be able to match your pace if you got free. It’s what lead her to doing what she did. 

As she stuck her foot in she missed the ball completely and her studs connected with the inside of your knee. You were on the floor in agony within seconds. 

“What was that!” Erin shoves Leah backwards, far away from you. 

“I didn’t—it was an accident” 

“Bullshit” the Scottish woman was furious. 

Meanwhile you laid on the floor clutching your knee. You didn’t hear a pop but you can’t lie and say the three letters weren’t floating around in your head. 

“Speak to us Y/N” one of the physios told you. 

“ACL?” It was a question that you dreaded the answer to. 

Leah heard you say the three letters and she thought that meant that was the diagnosis and it made her feel sick. The referee had given her the red card but she refused to leave the pitch, not until you had. 

“I didn’t mean to Lia” your girlfriend tried to get closer to you but this time it was her team mate who pulled her back. 

“Give her space” Wally hated to admit it but the tackle was bad and she wasn’t sure what your reaction would be to seeing the blonde. 

The physios removed your hand from your knee so they could access the injury. When you saw your hand it was covered in blood. Clearly the studs have cut you and from the amount of blood it must have been bad. 

“We don’t think it’s your ACL. We need to stitch you up so you obviously can’t continue” 

“I’m not getting on a stretcher, no way” 

The two physios look at each other, shake their heads and laugh a little. They knew full well that you wouldn’t get on a stretcher if you could walk. 

“We know but you will let us help you” you nod your head. Guro, who remained by your side, helped you up and took the place of one of the physios. 

You see Leah and it’s enough to make your blood boil. 

“Y/N. I didn’t—“ 

“Stay away from me Williamson” it was as impersonal as it could be and you meant every word. Leah was the last person you want to see right now. 

“Please I—“ 

Again she was cut off but this time by the Norwegian. 

“No! You heard her. Stay away” 

Leah stopped in her tracks. You never let anyone talk to her like that. That is until this moment.

Millie was waiting for you at the sidelines and the look she gave Leah was one of disappointment. Never in her mind would your girlfriend do anything like this to you. She was your biggest protector but tonight it was her you needed protecting from. 

The full time whistle is blown and the member of staff that had been sat with Leah tells her she can go back out. She lingers at the door to the Chelsea locker room where she he hears you laughing with Sam, Millie and Guro who must have been subbed off. She is in two minds whether or not to knock. She knew she wanted to see you but did you want to see her? If your previous reaction was any indication then the answer was no. 

Leah was doing her lap and was just near the end of the away stand when she heard the stadium break out into cheers. When she looked around to see what was the cause was, she saw you. She saw you walking near the home bench wearing a black compression sleeve and a matching knee brace. Millie was carrying a pair of crutches but laid them on the bench. 

You were injured. Leah didn’t know what the damage was but she knew that you were hurt. She also knew by the looks on your friends’ face that she wouldn’t get close to you right now. 

It was a hard thing to process for you. You tried to masque your hurt with a grin but it wasn’t very believable. You wanted to celebrate with your team, this win was huge, but your mind was elsewhere. 

“She didn’t mean to” Sam, of all people, came to Leah’s defence. 

“And that means I can’t be mad? You saw the replays, she could have ended by career with that tackle” you didn’t know what to feel, you didn’t know how you should feel. 

“But she didn’t” 

“Why are you defending her!” You covered your mouth in case a microphone and camera on you. 

“Because no one else will and you know it” Sam really was trying to do the right thing but maybe it was wrong of her. 

“Well then she shouldn’t have done it” your response was scarily calm. 

The girls in red stayed clear of you and rightly so. It was only Alessia that was brave enough to come to you. 

“You’re very annoying to play against. Good game tonight, you deserved to win this one” her genuine words earned her a smile. 

“Thanks Less” you pulled her in for a quick hug as you walked down the tunnel together. 

“Is it bad?” She wasn’t sure if she wanted the answer “Leah was asking about you” 

“Well you can tell Leah that I don’t know the severity of the injury she caused” 

“But it’s not, you know….” the forward daren’t speak the words that had now rivalled the Macbeth superstition. 

“No. I needed stitches and the brace is because the two cuts are on the joint. It’s so I don’t reopen them” 

Leah looked up at the sound of Alessia entering the locker room. She saw you through the gap, immediately stood up and started walking towards you. 

“Y/N” she begs you to look at her. 

“Thanks for checking in Less. I’ll see you at home” you didn’t address Leah but you did look at her. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing though because there was a numbness in your gaze. 

She waited and waited in your shared apartment. Hours passed and she was close to giving up, she thought that you must have changed your mind. Could she have blamed you if you had? 

Leah blew out the candle, your favourite one, and turned off the lamp. Just as she got into bed she heard the front door open and close. She was on her feet in a flash and running towards you. 

“Y/N. I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry” 

“What were you thinking? It was sloppy, dangerous and unnecessary” 

“I needed to stop you. I hadn’t been able to stop you all game” 

That was her defence and you found it pathetic. 

“You played terribly Leah. I won’t stand here and sugarcoat things. You made mistakes but this wasn’t one of them. You knew exactly what you were doing when you came flying in” 

“I didn’t. I swear I didn’t. I—” Leah pauses for a moment. She didn’t mean to hurt you but she also couldn’t know for sure if her subconscious wanted to stop you by any means. 

“You didn’t mean to hurt me but you knew the tackle was reckless and it could end badly yet you did it anyway” 

When you put it that way Leah found herself agreeing with you. 

“I love you Leah but I have every right to be mad at you. You can’t dismiss my feelings“

That wasn’t Leah’s intention but she knew that was what she was doing. 

“I’m not. I mean I won’t. Do you want space from me? I can sleep on the sofa or even go to one of the girls’ houses” Leah was ready to give you your space if that is what you wanted. 

“No, I don’t want that. I just want to be mad for a little bit but I can do that with you in bed beside me” 

Leah found herself smiling. She was in trouble, big trouble, but you were going to forgive her. 

“Don’t be surprised if I punch you in my sleep. Dream me might want revenge. Now carry me to bed. I don’t know how you put up with this thing. It’s so annoying” 

Just when Leah began to forget about what happened, you remind her. To be fair the black brace was very bulky and hard to ignore. 

“How bad is it Y/N? Tell me the truth, please” Leah carried you bridal style whilst waiting for the verdict. 

“8 stitches and I have to wear the brace while they heal” you told her everything that you knew. 

Leah laid you down gently on the bed and her fingers lingered on the velcro of the brace. You knew what she was asking without her having to open her mouth. You lean forward and undo the straps. Gently you pull the compression sleeve down, revealing the ugliness of the injury. 

Your girlfriend gasps and takes a step back. She hurt you, she hurt you really bad. When you first started dating she made a promise to never be the reason for your pain, only for your happiness. She broke that promise tonight at Stamford bridge. 

“I have a hospital appointment for scans tomorrow morning. They don’t think there’s any serious damage” 

“I’ll take you” Leah tells you. 

“Damn right you will Williamson. I am clearly in no shape to drive” 

“Please don’t call me that” you could have sworn you saw Leah shrink in size “Call me Leah if you have to, but not Williamson” 

Here’s the thing. Leah loved nicknames and you called her plenty of them. Each had a different meaning and you used them in different scenarios. It’s why this struck her so deeply. 

“Leah” you wait until she is looking at you “come to bed” 

The blonde does as told but she does it goes so gingerly. You were fragile in her eyes and no way was she going to hurt you more. 

That night the two of the slept poorly. That is until you pull Leah into your arms. You tried your best to forget about the incident because you knew Leah blamed herself for the loss. In this specific moment she simply needed to be held by her girlfriend. 

[spaceshipellie]

Can you write a soccer!ellie x fem!reader where It’s fluff before Ellies game and then her team loses and she fucks you roughly after out of anger? <3

soccer!ellie x fem!reader

warnings: dom!ellie, sub!reader, fingering (r receiving), strap usage (r receiving), fucks you in her soccer tshirt, slight dacryphilia, spit, slight spanking, reader wears a skirt, 18+ MDNI

author’s note: firstly i am SO SORRY this took me a million years to get to but i hope you still love it. sporty ellie whether it’s soccer, volleyball, hockey, whatever makes me soooo hot and bothered (not to mention all the sporty ellie fanart ??? makes me weak in the knees every time)

no one could deny that ellie was hot as fuck, especially when she was playing soccer. the way she moved so quickly and strategically. the way she’d stride along lifting her top up to wipe sweat from her face, exposing her abs. all the girls at her games fawned over her but you were the only one she ever gave a shit about. she loved looking up at you in the stands and seeing your pretty smile as you looked at her, giving her a little wave or even mouthing an “i love you.”

it was about ten minutes before the game was about to start and you were currently standing before her, cupping her face whilst her hands securely held your waist that adorned one of her soccer shirts.

“you’re going to be amazing, baby.”

“always am when i’ve got my little good luck charm cheering me on.”

you smiled and pressed a soft kiss to her lips before you felt a towel come flying at you both.

“williams, we’re on in five, keep it in your pants,” the coach said.

ellie rolled her eyes at them, throwing out a “yeah yeah, i’m coming” before giving you another quick kiss and squeeze on your waist.

“i’ll see you later, baby,” she smiled, licking her lips.

“good luck.” you stole another quick peck before scampering off, ellie eyeing you up as you left.

you watched intently throughout the game. it was very back and forth with who was in the lead and with only two minutes to go and ellie’s team a few points behind, you were getting nervous. you could see it in ellie’s face too and the way she paced with her jaw clenched.

soon enough, the buzzer went indicating the game was over and ellie’s team had lost. you could see her and her teammates all hugging and patting each other on the back and mumbling things to each other and you braced yourself for dealing with a pissed off ellie later.

you were now at home after ellie had showered and changed in the locker room and she had ranted about the game for the entire drive, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the steering wheel. you had mostly just been listening, sensing that she needed to get the frustration out of her system. well, ranting about it was one way but you could think of some other things that normally helped.

whilst she was slumped in a chair, arms folded across her chest and an aggravated pout on her face, you stood behind her and started gently massaging her shoulders.

“sorry about the game, baby. there will be others.”

“i know but doesn’t make it any less fucking annoying.”

“you were still amazing out there.” you continued rubbing her shoulders comfortingly.

“we should have fucking won,” she grumbled, bouncing her knee in irritation.

you leant down to kiss her temple gently and left more soft kisses down towards the curve of her neck before leaving one behind her ear and whispering.

“wanna use me to feel better about it?”

something in her must have snapped because she then shot up from her seat and grabbed your arms to pull you close, her own arms trapping you against her. a tiny smirk graced her features.

“oh yeah? that’s what you want?”

“that’s what i want,” you spoke quietly, your hand gripping her hair to pull her closer to you.

she hungrily kissed you, her hands exploring your entire body as she pushed you towards your shared bedroom. she ripped off her hoodie leaving her in her wife pleaser before pushing you down onto the bed. you whined a little as you bounced with the impact on the mattress. she looked down at you sitting on the edge of the bed, like you were her prey and she was starving. your skirt had bunched up a little, giving her a peak at the skimpy red underwear you had on. she shoved your legs apart and admired the wet fabric, chuckling to herself before using her other hand to grip both your cheeks between her fingers and kissed you, her hot open mouth on yours. she teased your clit through your underwear with light strokes.

“i think you kinda like the fact that we lost,” she taunted.

“no.” your voice didn’t sound very convincing.

“you sure? sure you don’t like it when i take my anger out on you like this?” her fingers pressed harder against your clit. you couldn’t find the words to say.

“speak up, baby.”

“i-i-fuck ellie, i like it.”

she smiled smugly to herself. “good girl.”

she started to peel your underwear off your legs, a string of cum breaking as she pulled it away from your aching cunt.

“you gonna let me do whatever i want with you?” her finger toyed with your hole.

“please, ellie,” you tried to nod, her grip still holding your face.

she shoved two fingers all the way in and her pace was immediately relentless. you cried out as she fucked into you, the tips of her fingers hitting that spot every time.

“so fucking wet for me, pretty girl, and i’ve only just started.”

you let out a squeaky moan as you already felt yourself wanting to close your legs but you resisted. her hand on your face slid down to pull the soccer top up, exposing your tits. she pushed the fabric towards your mouth indicating for you to hold it in place so she could squeeze your boobs, pinching your nipples occasionally.

“i think you can take another for me,” she said as she pushed a third finger inside.

your arms grew tired from holding yourself up but you pushed through it as she suddenly got down on her knees and spat directly on your cunt. you both watched as it dribbled down over your clit and got caught in the rapid movements of her fingers fucking in and out. your cries were muffled by the fabric in between your teeth.

she left bite marks and sloppy kisses all along your thighs. she moved her hand away from your tits and starting rubbing her fingers side to side on your clit. the added pleasure brought tears to your eyes and she looked up at you.

“can’t handle it, baby? come on, i know you can.”

your moans were unholy as you felt it building up in you lower stomach. your ears were practically ringing except for the wet sounds of your cunt and her words.

“ellie, i’m gonna–“ the top dropped from your mouth and a whimper cut you off as her fingers kept torturing you through your release. the familiar clear liquid splashed and dripped down her wrist and forearm.

“shit, baby, you fucking squirted.”

still in a daze, you looked down at where her fingers were still buried inside you but were now still and her arm and the mattress under your ass was wet. your fucked out pussy couldn’t stop clenching even when she pulled out and kissed you, grabbing your skirt and yanking it down, tossing it somewhere in the room. she quickly span you around so that you were lying flat on your stomach and gave your ass a quick slap. you could hear her undoing her jeans behind you and shuffling around with something. something you assumed to be her strap. the bed then dipped either side of you as she leant on her hands above you.

“lift up,” she instructed, shoving a pillow under your hips so that your ass was propped up better.

she kissed and grazed her teeth on the back of your shoulder and relished in seeing the massive “williams” stated across your back. you were hers and everyone at that game knew it. you lifted your ass up in desperation and felt the tip of the strap against it.

“you needy for my dick, baby?”

you moaned an mmhmm in response.

“once just wasn’t enough, huh? you need to be stuffed again?”

“ellie…please.”

she started rubbing the tip of the strap over your slippery folds. she seemed to take an agonisingly long time in teasing you like that before she eventually pushed it in, bottoming out making you gasp against the mattress. she used one arm to hold herself up and used the other to grip your waist, pushing and pinning it down into the bed as she started to fuck into you. her thrusts were hard and they slowly got faster and faster until you were practically blubbering at how good and overwhelming it felt. the praises and filth that left her mouth whilst she had her way with you were never ending.

“you’re taking my dick so well.”

“such a good girl letting me use you like this.”

“so good to me, baby.”

it was pushing you over the edge as she brutally slammed in and out of you. your moans became more strangled and loud despite your face being pressed into the bed. she gave your ass a few slaps before roughly gripping the flesh and spreading it so she had a better view of your stretched out pussy and the cum that was forming a ring around her strap. you were so sensitive it was almost too much but being completely pinned under her, you couldn’t move away even if you wanted to, which you didn’t of course. she wasn’t completely wrong before, of course you didn’t want her to lose but you also weren’t going to complain about what it had led to.

“oh fuckfuckfuck,” you pathetically cried.

“come for me, show me how good i’m making you feel.”

your whole body shook as you came and you felt empty when she eventually pulled out. you whined and wiggled your hips, gaining a low laugh from her. she dragged some of your cum that was dripping down to your clit and pushed it back inside of you with two of her fingers. she worked them in and out slowly whilst brushing your hair away so she could leave a kiss behind your ear.

“don’t worry, baby. i’m not done with you yet.”

[writeaboutit]

Thus With a Kiss, I Die

Firefighter Abby and Reader get trick-or-treaters

Wanted to get out one last Halloween-themed fic before spooky season ends(even though it's technically the 1st). I had a couple more ideas, one including a Halloween party that would bring in the other characters(Ellie, Dina, Jessie, etc.) but idk if I want them in this universe or not so lmk if y'all would be interested in that or not. Anyway, I hope you like it and happy last days of spooky season!!

Series: p1,2,3

Word Count: 945

Warnings: None

You tried and failed to walk down the hallway in a normal way—those damn wings. The costume was cute but you kept forgetting about the wings strapped to your back. You couldn’t really tell if that was a good or bad thing.

On one hand, they were light enough to endure wearing them for the next two hours while you and Abby handed out candy to the neighborhood trick-or-treaters and then three more hours for the Halloween party. On the other hand, you had already lost seven wing feathers to various walls, low-hanging light fixtures, and one door jam. 

You turned sideways and shimmied down the hall to accommodate the small space and expansive wings. You would get used to it… or at least that's what you keep telling yourself as you round the corner into your bedroom. 

Abby was sitting on the edge of your mattress struggling with a buckle on the arm cuff on her fake metal armor. Suddenly you thought you probably shouldn’t be complaining about the wings. You knew that Abby’s costume was a sensory nightmare but she was ignoring it to appease you and your dream couple's costume. 

It was your first Halloween in the new house and you were dying to dress up. You had only lived in apartments previously and being in a house this year meant trick-or-treaters surly. You'd be damned if you didn’t go all out with your costume.

So here you were wearing massive white wings and a long white dress, Abby across from you wearing a grey get-up covered in chain mail and fake shoulder/arm armor, a sword sticking out of her belt loop—the perfect Romeo and Juliet. 

Although you knew Abby was probably more uncomfortable than not you had to admit that she looked hot as shit and by the way she went still forgetting the stupid buckle to drink you in she was thinking the same thing. 

You took a deep breath trying to steel yourself against your wife's burning gaze and walked to the space in between her spread knees. 

“Let me help,” you motioned down to her wrist and loose armor. 

She raised her arm without comment. You could tell she was staring at you but you focused on feeding the leather strap through the buckle and tightening it. You guys did not have time to get…distracted. 

“You look so pretty, baby.” She broke the silence and you could no longer avoid her pulling eyes. 

“Thank you, so do you.” You said softly leaning down to press a light kiss to her cheek. 

She hummed at the contact and bracketed her arms around the back of your thighs, pulling you into her. 

You laughed at the sudden tug and braced your arms on her shoulders for support. The pair of you stared at each other for a long while, in complete silence. You spent the moment—what felt like ten years, debating whether or not the distraction would be worth it. You could just run downstairs and throw the candy bowl out on the porch for the kids to help themselves. 

Yes, that sounded like a very pleasant idea. Just as you were about to suggest it to your wife the doorbell rang. 

You squealed forgetting about that plan. You guys could do that later, right now you were too excited to celebrate the holiday. You couldn’t wait until you and Abby had kids one day and were able to take them trick-or-treating. For now, handing out candy would have to suffice. 

You pulled out of Abby’s grasp and tugged on her arms, “Come on, come on. We have our first trick-or-treaters!” 

Abby laughed at your excitement. She was glad that you were getting so much joy out of the night even though all you were going to be doing was sitting by the door and saying hello and goodbye to kids dressed as Disney princesses or video game characters. 

You guys rushed down the hall, well more like you and Abby just followed at a reasonable pace. You could hear the high-pitched voices of excited children on the other side of the door and you grabbed the fake cauldron full of candy and unlocked the door. 

Abby hung back just slightly from the open door frame making sure your guys' dog Alice didn’t become an escape artist and jump scare the kids. 

She smiled as you gasped and asked a little girl if she was the little mermaid. The little girl squealed excited that someone knew who she was and excitedly exclaimed, “Yes! Do you like my dress?” 

“I love your dress,” you dragged out the love for emphasis. 

Yeah, Abby was fucked. She wanted to make you a mom, like yesterday, despite the logistical hurdle regarding that. 

You finished dishing out the candy and closed the door a smile on your face. When you met Abby’s eyes you knew exactly what was brewing behind her eyes. 

“Nope. Stop looking at me like that, we definitely do not have time for that.” You waved a hand over her form. 

“Not even just a little bit of time?” She grabbed the center of your dress and pulled you in, “I can make it real quick baby,” She whispered against your lips. 

Your heart stalled in your chest. Well… when she put it like that?

Just as you went to answer her the doorbell rang again causing you to laugh and her to groan. She rested her forehead against yours and you answered, “Sorry baby, you’re just gonna have to wait until tonight.”

You pulled out of her grasp once more and placed a light pat on her ass. She groaned again.