#I hope this is what you were looking for! T-T''

[beautifulplaceofyouth]

AN APPLE A DAY KEEPS THE DOCTOR AWAY

Synopsis - Your boyfriend is tired after a long day of work and you have been impatient all day, just to have him inside you again but then the apple foreplay starts. You don’t know if you want to ride him harder or smack him with that in the face. (6.8k) Pairing - Caleb!possessive!boyfriend x Needy!Reader Warnings - (nsfw 18+) He’s being playful sadistic tease, lap riding, orgasm edging, unprotected raw vaginal sex, a lot of kisses, creampie, a little handjob, slight nipple play, apple foreplay, dirty talk, pet names(baby, buttercup, pipsqueak, brat, pretty girl, little seagull, Miss Apple) - He is sweet but such a big flirt, I can't. - Their sexual chemistry is off the charts here. Don’t judge, okay? (And sorry Zayne, the apples are really keeping you away while Caleb is in charge-sorry, had to say it, haha) Hope you will enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it!

The warmth of the shower still clung to your skin as you padded through the apartment, his oversized t-shirt doing little to conceal the anticipation thrumming beneath. You loved the way his clothes swallowed you whole, a tangible reminder of his presence even when he wasn't there. But he was home now, or at least, that's what the click of the automatic lock had signaled, a sound that usually heralded a greeting, a kiss, a moment of reconnection.

But silence hung in the air, a stark contrast to the usual boisterous energy he carried. Frowning, you followed the sound of your own bare feet against the polished floor, drawn towards the bedroom.

The sight that greeted you stopped you in your tracks.

Caleb was a study in contrasts. The crisp lines of his uniform, usually immaculate and imposing, were softened by the loosened tie and the undone buttons of his shirt, revealing a glimpse of the powerful chest beneath. He sat on the edge of his bed, legs spread wide, a posture that usually radiated confidence and control. But his head was bowed, his eyes closed, and the lines etched around his mouth spoke of exhaustion. He looked utterly drained.

"Caleb?" you murmured, your voice soft, laced with concern. He was a man of steel, a protector, a force to be reckoned with, but even steel could bend under pressure.

His eyes fluttered open at the sound of your voice, a flicker of recognition sparking within the deep purple depths. A ghost of a smile touched his lips, a slow, weary curve that tugged at your heart.

"Hey, baby," he rasped, the sound rough around the edges, a testament to a long and arduous day.

Instinct took over. You moved towards him, drawn by an invisible cord of affection and worry. Dropping to your knees on the soft rug by the bed, you nestled between his legs, pressing your cheek against the solid warmth of his thigh. The familiar scent of him, a mixture of leather, gun oil, and a hint of something uniquely Caleb, filled your senses, grounding you. Your hands gripped his other leg, anchoring you to him, seeking reassurance in his physical presence.

"You okay? You look tired," you asked, your voice a soft murmur against the fabric of his uniform.

His gaze softened, the weariness momentarily receding as his eyes focused on you, dressed in his old t-shirt. It was several sizes too large, completely swallowing your frame, the fabric draping around you in a way that highlighted your delicate features. The effect was undeniably cute, a disarming vulnerability that contrasted sharply with the fierce, independent woman he knew you to be. It made him forget, for a fleeting moment, the exhaustion that clung to him like a second skin. The sight of you, so sweetly nestled against him, so readily offering comfort, stirred a primal protectiveness within him. It also ignited a spark of desire, a hunger to devour you whole, looking so tempting and innocent in his oversized shirt.

His hand reached down, his fingers threading through your hair, the touch gentle and possessive. He separated the strands, feeling the silky texture against his calloused skin, the contrast both soothing and stimulating. He cupped your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his gaze, his thumb tracing the curve of your lips, a silent invitation.

You parted your lips for him, a subconscious act of surrender. He didn't hesitate, slipping his thumb past your teeth, the pad of his finger rough against your tongue. You tasted his skin, the faint tang of sweat and the underlying scent that was uniquely his, a scent that always sent a shiver of arousal through you.

"Oh, you know, the usual," he drawled, his voice regaining some of its usual playful edge. "Just a normal clean up tonight. Nothing crazy."

"Then why do you look like you're about to fall asleep any second now?" you managed to ask, your words slightly muffled by the presence of his finger in your mouth.

He pressed deeper, exploring the sensitive flesh behind your teeth, teasing and tantalizing. You widened your lips, granting him greater access, your saliva slicking his finger like a glaze. He watched you, his eyes hooded, a mixture of weariness and desire swirling within their depths. A tired chuckle rumbled in his chest.

"The fleet work has been hectic lately," he admitted, his voice laced with a hint of resignation. "But seeing you waiting for me at home is worth it."

The heat bloomed in your cheeks, a flush of pleasure and embarrassment. You playfully nipped at his finger, a silent protest against his teasing. His eyes glinted with amusement. "What are you up to now, pipsqueak?" he said, his voice a low purr. "Don't pretend I didn't see that pink peek under my shirt."

You whined softly, unable to form a coherent sentence, your thoughts already scattered by the sensation of his finger dancing against your tongue. He made you suck on it a few more times, drawing out the pleasure, coating it in a glistening sheen of your saliva.

Finally, relenting, he withdrew his finger, sliding it slowly along your lips, leaving a trail of your drool in its wake. He waited, his gaze fixed on your face, watching the play of emotions flitting across your features. Your eyes were glazed, your breath coming in shallow pants, and your attention was clearly drawn to the burgeoning bulge straining against the fabric of his trousers. He was already hard, fueled by the simple act of you sucking on his finger, and the knowledge of your desire sent a secret thrill through you.

You loved his cock. You always had. It was the perfect shape, the perfect size, designed to fit you like a glove, to fill you completely, to drive you to the brink of madness with pleasure. The mere thought of it throbbing inside you, of feeling your clit pulsing in anticipation, sent a wave of heat crashing through your body.

As if sensing the direction of your thoughts, he spread his legs wider, increasing the angle of your view, making his arousal even more prominent beneath his pants. He looked impossibly large and imposing, the uniform adding to his aura of masculine power.

"Well, now," he murmured, a wicked smile curving his lips. "Looks like someone's got a little… itch they need scratching."

He reached out, his fingers smoothing your hair away from your face, his touch surprisingly gentle. "Say the words, buttercup," he whispered, his voice a husky invitation. "What do you need?"

You were too far gone to resist, too consumed by the burning need that had taken root deep within your core. Shame flickered across your face, a brief and insignificant spark against the overwhelming tide of desire.

"I… I need your cock," you breathed, the words a soft, desperate plea, your face burning with a mixture of arousal and embarrassment.

He chuckled, a low, predatory sound that vibrated through you. “Need it, do you? Well, I’ve got plenty to offer. Where do you want it, baby? Do you want to taste me first? Beg for it?” He watched your face, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “In your mouth, making you choke on it? Buried deep in your ass, stretching you until you scream? Or do you want it throbbing inside your tight pussy?” he mocked, the words a low, husky rasp that sent shivers dancing down your spine. His voice held a playful cruelty, a deliberate goading that both thrilled and terrified you. “Tell me. You need to be more specific."

Each syllable was a spark, igniting a firestorm within you. You leaned closer, driven by a primal need that overrode any sense of shame. He watched, his eyes narrowed and glittering with predatory interest as you rubbed your face against his crotch, inhaling deeply. The scent of leather clung to him, a familiar aroma that always seemed to intensify when he was aroused, mingling with a musky, undeniably masculine scent that was uniquely Caleb. It was a heady blend, an intoxicating cocktail that stripped away your inhibitions and left you craving more. You felt like a pet, a creature starved for affection and finally presented with its favorite, most forbidden treat.

"In…in my pussy," you whispered, the words barely audible, a fragile offering into the heavy silence. You felt the immediate backlash, the sharp tug as his fist clenched in your hair, yanking your head back. The sudden movement stole your breath, forcing you to meet his eyes.

He looked more alive than you'd seen him in weeks, the dull apathy that usually veiled his features replaced with a sharp, almost feral intensity. Yet, the lazy, knowing smirk that perpetually played on his lips remained, a tantalizing contrast to the hunger burning in his eyes. It was a dangerous combination, a promise of pleasure laced with pain, of control willingly surrendered and boundaries ruthlessly tested. In that moment, he looked like he could devour you whole and revel in the aftermath.

"Your pussy?" he hummed, the question laced with amusement. His gaze flickered down your body, a slow, deliberate appraisal that made your skin prickle with anticipation. "Did she miss me?"

"Yes," you confessed, the single word a testament to the ache that had consumed you during his absence.

His smirk widened, twisting into a sardonic grin that sent a shiver of apprehension down your spine. You knew that look. It meant he was ready to torment you, to play with your desires as a cat toys with a mouse. His ego was undeniably stoked by your desperation, by the knowledge that you had been counting the minutes until his return, aching for his touch. He practically lived for your vulnerability, for the power he held over you.

"Did she now…" he murmured, the words a low, possessive growl. He released your hair, bracing himself against the bed on his elbows. His chest expanded, a silent invitation, "Take my clothes off, first. We don’t need any distractions along the way, do we?”

Your hands trembled, your fingers fumbling with the buttons of his uniform jacket. His eyes never left yours, pinning you beneath their intense scrutiny. Each movement felt amplified, each rustle of fabric echoing in the sudden silence that had descended upon the room. Once the jacket was off, you moved to his shirt, your ears ringing with the sound of each button being undone. The room was silent save for your harsh breathing and clumsy movement.

Caleb was clearly enjoying your distress. He remained perfectly still, comfortable in his position, his expression a mask of amused detachment. That small, teasing smile remained etched on his face, a silent challenge that dared you to break his composure. For a fleeting moment, you wanted to wipe it off, to shatter his control and unleash the beast that lurked beneath the surface.

When his shirt was finally off, revealing the sculpted lines of his muscular waist, the defined pecks and abs that rippled with every breath, his biceps on full display, you bit your lip, tasting the metallic tang of blood. The sight of his body, so familiar and yet always so intoxicating, sent a wave of heat crashing through you.

His hand moved with surprising speed, his thumb pressing against your bitten lip, gently but firmly preventing you from inflicting further damage. He clicked his tongue in displeasure, the sound sharp and disapproving. "Don't bite your lips. You know I hate it when you hurt yourself."

You nodded, your eyes fixed on his. You licked the blood from your lip and his finger, savoring the taste of him, the subtle hint of his skin. When he pulled away, you didn't hesitate. You went for his pants, your fingers clumsy but determined. The task proved more difficult than anticipated. His erection strained against the fabric, a thick, hard bulge that threatened to burst free. It was a miracle you didn't snag him with the zipper in your haste.

His chuckle was low and humorous, laced with a hint of smugness. "Careful, little seagull. If you want my cock, don't break it before I'm inside you."

You glared at him, your frustration momentarily eclipsing your desire. You yanked his pants open, the fabric tearing slightly at the seams. He laughed again, the sound a deep rumble in his chest, helping you pull them down his strong, long legs. When they were piled on top of the other discarded clothes, you licked your lips, your gaze lingering on the outlined length beneath his underwear. A wet spot was already forming, a testament to his own arousal.

A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. "Someone definitely missed me."

Caleb breathed deeply, his chest rising and falling with each ragged inhale. He dropped his head backwards, his smile lazy and predatory. "Guilty," he admitted, his voice a low, husky rasp that sent shivers down your spine. Lowering his eyes back to you, he nodded towards his crotch. "Go on. Keep going. I need to see how much you want it"

The jerk was seriously enjoying this too much. You leaned over him, your breath hot against his underwear, and carefully, you pulled his briefs down. His cock sprang free, slapping against your face in its eagerness.

"Oh…" Your breath hitched, the familiar sight of his engorged shaft sending a jolt of electricity through you. You squirmed on the floor, still kneeling between his legs, your own desire intensifying with each passing second. It was already pulsing with need, pre-cum oozing from the tip like it was desperate to be inside you.

Caleb stroked your cheek, his eyes glazed with his own escalating desire. "Go on, baby."

Lifting his hips slightly, you tugged his underwear down, freeing him completely. And then, he was beautifully, gloriously naked.

Your gaze travels the length of him, lingering on the thick, throbbing veins that pulse beneath his skin. The head of his cock is slick and engorged, a testament to the raw power that lies within. He's magnificent, a sculpted masterpiece of muscle and desire, and he's all yours, at least for this moment.

He watches you, his eyes burning with an intensity that could melt steel. He’s close to the edge, you can feel it in the tremor of his hands, the raggedness of his breath. The knowledge that you hold him in this state, poised on the precipice of oblivion, is a heady rush, a potent aphrodisiac that fuels your own desire.

A slow, deliberate smile spreads across your face. "You think you're in control, don't you?" you whisper, your voice laced with a playful malice.

He doesn't answer, his gaze locked on yours, his body a taut bowstring stretched to its breaking point.

Reaching out, you grasp him firmly, your fingers encircling his shaft. He groans, a low, guttural sound that vibrates through your bones. You squeeze gently, testing his limits, and he bucks against your hand, his hips lifting off the bed.

Even that first touch was making him thicken, the slick head, full of arousal as it pulsed in your hand like it has a mind on its own.

"You’re so hard," you murmur, your voice a silken caress as you lick your lips. The sight of him, so engorged and ready for you, sends a shiver of desire coursing through your body. Your folds clench in response, aching to be filled.

And then, with a slow, deliberate movement, you climb into his lap, straddling him with a possessive hunger. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as you grind against him, the friction igniting a firestorm of sensation.

"Tease," he groans, his voice ragged.

"Only because you like it," you retort, leaning down to kiss him, your lips brushing against his.

The kiss is slow, sensual, a deliberate exploration of each other's mouths. You taste his hunger, his desperation, his raw need, and it only fuels your own. You deepen the kiss, your tongues tangling in a dance of dominance and submission.

Caleb's laughter morphed into a low growl. He reached up, tangling his fingers in you hair, tugging your head back just enough to force you to meet his eyes. Those goddamn eyes. Piercing purple, they held a dangerous glint, a promise of delicious torment. "And you, pipsqueak, are a brat."

You stuck your tongue out, a childish gesture that earned you a sharp, playful slap on the ass.

"Hey!" You protested, but the sting only served to heighten the awareness already thrumming through you. Your body was a traitor, responding to his touch with an eager anticipation that bordered on embarrassing.

"You love it," Caleb murmured, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down your spine. "You love when I take control, when I remind you who's in charge." The words were laced with a possessiveness that ignited a fire deep within you.

You shivered, your nipples hardening into tight peaks under the shirt you were wearing. “Yes,” You whispered, the admission barely audible. The air between you both crackled with unspoken desires, a silent conversation of wants and needs.

Caleb’s eyes burn into yours, and you feel like he can see straight through you, right down to the core of your being. He knows exactly what you want, what you crave, what makes you tick. And he's not afraid to use it against you. Or, rather, for you.

“Then let me remind you who owns you,” he says, the words a promise and a challenge all rolled into one. It's a declaration of intent, a signal that the games are over and it's time to get down to business.

With that, his hand moves to your hips, his fingers digging into your skin, not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to leave no doubt about his intentions. He lifts you, just slightly, guiding you, positioning you with a deliberate precision that sends a fresh wave of heat washing over you. The anticipation is almost unbearable, a delicious torture that you wouldn’t trade for anything.

You feel the tip of him against you, a spark of electricity that ignites every nerve ending in your body. He hesitates for a moment, savoring the anticipation, letting you feel the promise of what’s to come.

And then, finally, he surged forward, slamming you down on his thick cock, forcing his way through like it was nothing.

He sank inside, dragging every inch, and you were lost. Utterly, completely, irrevocably lost. There was no thought, no reason, only sensation. The feeling of him filling you, stretching you, possessing you. It was primal, visceral, and utterly intoxicating. He slid inside, bottoming out, burying himself to the hilt, making you almost gasp for breath, feeling that familiar stretch which always made you wet. It was a deep, resonant chord that vibrated through your entire being.

You clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into the solid muscle of his back. He kissed your neck, a slow, deliberate exploration that sent shivers of pleasure cascading down your spine. He knew exactly where to touch, where to linger, where to tease. He was a maestro, conducting a symphony of sensation on your skin.

"That's it, little brat. Ride me, just like that." Each stroke was a slow burn, building the tension, tightening the coil of anticipation within you.

You did as he commanded, your body moving in time with his, your hips meeting in a slow, torturous rhythm. With each thrust, you felt him slide inside you, filling you completely. It was maddening, the way he held back, taking his time, savoring every moment. He was a sadist with a PhD in pleasure.

A familiar warmth radiates from his skin, a heat you've known for as long as you can remember. He's always been there, a constant in the ever-changing landscape of your life. He knows you, perhaps better than you know yourself.

He knows about the way you devour your food, a whirlwind of messy enthusiasm that leaves traces of your meal scattered across your face and fingers. He's seen you with chocolate smeared across your cheek, a testament to a stolen midnight snack. He remembers the endless supply of napkins he’d have to procure, a silent offering to your sweet-toothed chaos.

He's witnessed the aftermath of your showers, the trail of glistening droplets that marked your path from the bathroom to your bed. He's seen you, hair plastered to your face, completely absorbed in the glowing screen of your phone, blissfully unaware of the damp patches forming on the sheets beneath you. He'd sigh, but a fond smile would tug at his lips. He knew you. The carefree, sometimes oblivious you.

And he definitely remembers the summers, the inevitable scraped knees, and the dramatic tears that followed. The way you'd recoil at the sight of your own blood, a picture of pure, unadulterated distress. He'd be the one to clean the wound, his touch gentle and reassuring as he applied the antiseptic and bandaged you up, murmuring soothing words until your sobs subsided. He knew your vulnerabilities, your little fears, the things that made you uniquely, endearingly you.

But right now, those memories fade, replaced by the intensity of the present. Your breath hitches, a ragged gasp in the quiet room. You’re completely vulnerable, stripped bare of any pretense. You are willing, utterly and completely willing, to surrender to the sensations that flood your body. You are his to command in this intimate space.

You clench around him, your muscles contracting in rhythmic waves. You feel him harden even further, a testament to your effect on him. A moan escapes your lips, a sound that is both desperate and exquisitely pleasurable. You beg him, a whispered plea that is barely audible, but he hears it, every syllable etched into his memory.

You look up at him, your eyes wide and pleading. Your face is flushed, your lips parted, your expression a mixture of pain and ecstasy. You are dripping around him and that makes him even more crazy about you. You are beautiful, breathtakingly so, in your vulnerability.

He knew exactly what he was doing to you, the way he was driving you insane with need. And yet, even as you begged him to let you come, he only chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. The bastard.

"Begging already, little brat?" he taunted, his free hand moving to cup you breast under the shirt, teasing your nipple. "You're going to have to do better than that if you want me to let you come."

You whimpered, your body trembling with the effort to hold back your release. You wanted to come so badly, but you also wanted to please him, to earn his praise. The push and pull of desire and obedience was intoxicating.

And so, you tried again, your voice pleading as you begged, "Please, Caleb. Please, let me come."

But still, he held back, his thrusts slowing down even more, the teasing becoming unbearable. He was deliberately dragging out the agony, savoring your frustration. And just when you thought you couldn't take it any longer, he reached for a red apple on the nightstand. An apple. Seriously? He took a bite, the juice glistening on his lips as he continued to torment you with his maddeningly slow movements. He had the audacity to make eye contact while chewing. You swear, you almost lost it right then and there.

Caleb was a masterpiece of sculpted muscle and arrogant grace, and right now, he was pure, unadulterated torment. His dark eyes, usually alight with amusement, held a predatory glint as he took another deliberate bite of the crisp, red apple. The juice glistened on his lips, a stark contrast to the strained expression you had sure mirrored on your own face.

"Enjoying the view?" he drawled, his voice a low, rumbling vibration that traveled right through you, intensifying the sensations already firing in your core.

Enjoying? It was a complex cocktail of pleasure and agony. You were straddling him, naked, your thighs burning, your breath coming in ragged gasps. His hands, strong and calloused, gripped your hips, guiding your movements with ruthless precision. He was a symphony of control, and you were dancing to his tune.

"Caleb," You managed, your voice a choked whisper. "Please."

He smirked, holding the apple just out of my reach. "Please what, pretty girl? Please may I continue to admire the…scenery?" He punctuated the last word with a suggestive squeeze of your hips, making you arch your back.

He knew what you wanted. He knew exactly how close you were, how desperately you were clinging to the edge. And he was relishing every second of your struggle.

With agonizing slowness, he brought the apple to your lips, the sweet scent filling your nostrils. Your mouth watered in anticipation. Finally, a taste of something other than the burning ache that consumed you. You leaned forward, ready to sink your teeth into the crisp flesh, but at the last moment, he pulled it away.

"Almost," he whispered, his breath ghosting across your ear. "But not quite."

A frustrated groan escaped your lips. "You're a sadist," You accused, but the words lacked any real heat. You were too far gone to muster any genuine anger.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against your skin. "Only for you, buttercup." He took another bite of the apple, the sound amplified in the close confines of the bedroom.

The sheer audacity of it! He was eating the apple, savoring it, while you were practically begging for release. It was infuriating, and yet… a strange sort of thrill ran through you. This was Caleb. This was the man you had fallen for, the man who pushed you to your limits, who challenged you in every way imaginable.

"You know," he said, his voice laced with mock innocence, "they say an apple a day keeps the doctor away. Perhaps you should have one." He offered the apple again, and again, snatched it away just as you reached for it.

"Caleb, I swear…" You started, but he cut you off with another bite.

“Mmm, delicious,” he murmured, savoring the flavor. “Tart, sweet, just the right amount of crunch. Almost as delicious as… certain other things I’m experiencing right now.”

He dragged his length inside you, each thrust deliberate and deep, hitting every nerve ending with agonizing precision. His size was both a blessing and a curse, filling you completely, stretching you to your limits.

Your frustration mounted, threatening to spill over into tears. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Am I?” He feigned innocence, but his eyes betrayed him. “Perhaps I’m merely showcasing my appreciation for apples. Besides,” he added, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “I thought you enjoyed a little… torture.”

He knew you too well. You did enjoy it, in a twisted sort of way. The knowledge that he held all the power, the exquisite anticipation, the feeling of being completely under his control… it was all part of the intoxicating allure of Caleb. But tonight, his teasing felt… excessive. You didn’t know if you wanted to ride him harder or smack him with that same apple he was enjoying it so much. The sadist.

“Caleb, please,” You repeated, your voice cracking. “I can’t… I’m so close.”

He chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Such a pretty little thing, begging for me.” He took another bite, the juice dribbling down his chin. He let it linger there for a moment, before slowly, deliberately, licking it away. The movement was obscene, provocative, designed to push you over the edge.

“Caleb!” You cried out, your voice cracking. You bucked against him, desperate for release, but he remained frustratingly still, a solid, immovable force beneath you.

He finally lowered the apple, holding it just inches from your lips. The scent was intoxicating, a sweet, tangy promise. “Open,” he commanded, his voice husky.

You obeyed instantly, your mouth parting in anticipation. He brought the apple closer, the skin brushing against your lips… and then he pulled it away, again!

Your teeth snapped shut on nothing but air, frustration bubbling up inside you like a venomous poison. He wrapped his fingers around your throat and pushed his thumb against your pulse, bending your neck back. It lifted your face up, completely under his mercy.

His smirk was wide and predatory as he resumed eating the apple himself, savoring each bite with theatrical relish. The juice dripped down his chin, a crimson trail that seemed to mock your unfulfilled desires. He was teasing you, taunting you, pushing you closer and closer to the breaking point.

"Such impatience," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement. "You wound me."

You glared at him, your frustration mounting by the second. "You're such a jerk," You hissed, but the words were half-hearted, your anger quickly turning to desire as you watched him eat the apple, his eyes never leaving yours. The symbolism wasn’t lost on you. Temptation, forbidden fruit…he knew exactly what buttons to push.

The apple scent fills the small space between you, a sweet, tart aroma contrasting sharply with the musk of your exertion. He's savoring it, each bite deliberate, his dark eyes hooded as he watches you. You're catching your breath, trying to regain some semblance of control after… well, after everything.

His gaze flickers down, amusement dancing in their depths, and you groan. What now? You’re already a mess, pleasantly exhausted and decidedly undone. Surely he can't be thinking of continuing this particular brand of delightful torture.

Then you see it. His black phone, sleek and modern against the rumpled, fresh cotton of his bedsheets. He picks it up with the same hand he's using to hold the apple, somehow managing to balance both. You watch, confused. Too much already, too much sensation, for any more of his nonsense.

"What are you doing?" you ask, your voice still thick with pleasure and just a hint of irritation.

His smirk is evident, even in the dim light filtering through the curtains. He angles the phone so its back is facing you, the red apple charm dangling from the side, mocking you with its innocent sweetness. It swings gently, a tiny pendulum counting down the seconds until… what exactly? You’re not sure, but you know, instinctively, that it won’t be boring.

"Keep riding me, pipsqueak," he says, his voice low and laced with teasing. "You look too pretty not to take a picture.”

Your cheeks flush. "Don't you dare," you manage, but the words lack conviction. You know he will. And a part of you, the part that's still humming from the aftershocks of his touch, wants him to.

Just then, he thrusts up, his cock grazing your stomach, hitting that precise spot that sends shivers down your spine. You yelp, a small, involuntary sound of pure feeling, and in that very moment, he captures it. The flash illuminates the room for a fraction of a second, freezing your expression in time. You’re sure you look ridiculous – mouth slightly open, eyes wide and glassy, a sheen of perspiration on your skin.

He doesn’t stop there. He takes more pictures, experimenting with angles and lighting, capturing every detail of your flushed and vulnerable state. You want to protest, to grab the phone and delete the evidence, but you're also completely captivated, paralyzed by the intensity of his gaze and the lingering sensations rippling through you. You roll your eyes back when he pulses inside you, twitching like he would cum inside any time soon. It triggered an orgasm in you which wanted to be let free but still he forced it back.

“Caleb…please…” You beg, desperate for a release. Anything to stop this torture.

“Yeah...that's it. Beg me. Fucked stupid on my cock. Seeing you so desperate for me...Fuck...baby," Caleb groans at your debauched state, grinding his hips, his phone almost slipping from his fingers but he uses his evol to keep steady.

Finally, satisfied with his impromptu photoshoot, he tosses the phone onto the bed, the soft thud barely audible over the pounding of your heart. He turns his attention back to you, the apple still clutched in his hand.

When you whimpered, seeking fraction, Caleb just laughed, a low, seductive sound. He tossed the apple core aside, his hand moving to hold your hips steady as he finally took control, his thrusts becoming harder and faster, driving you wild with need.

You closed your eyes, fighting back tears. He was toying with you, pushing you to your limit, and the realization was both humiliating and… exciting. You hated him for it, and yet, you loved him for it too.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice softening slightly.

You reluctantly opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. The amusement was still there, but there was something else too, something akin to tenderness.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his thumb gently tracing the curve of your cheek. “So beautifully desperate. Show me how much you want it," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Ride for me, baby."

And you did. You rode him until your muscles screamed, until your lungs burned, until your vision blurred. Each thrust was deeper, harder, more insistent than the last. You could feel him, all of him, and the sensations were almost overwhelming.

You clenched around him, tighter and tighter, trying to pull him over the edge with you. You could feel the tension building in his muscles, the accelerated rhythm of his breathing.

"You're killing me," he groaned, but there was no complaint in his voice. Only raw, unadulterated pleasure,” So tight,” he groaned, his voice laced with desperation. “So fucking wet for me.”

He started to buck beneath you, his movements growing more frantic. Each slap of skin echoed in the room.

"Caleb," You gasped, your body convulsing. "I'm going to…"

He cut you off with a guttural roar as he reached his own climax. His body went rigid, his muscles contracting violently. He surged deep inside you, pumping furiously into you and you cried out as the wave of pleasure washed over you. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tight against his chest. He held you there, gasping for breath, his heart pounding against you ear. And then, just when you thought the moment couldn't get any more perfect, he tightened his grip around at the back of your neck, not enough to hurt, but enough to let you know who was in control. A primal growl rumbled in his chest as he came, abs clenching as rope after rope of his cum flooded your pussy, the sound, the feeling of its warmth sending shivers down your spine.

His shaft throbs painfully inside your used hole, pumping the last hot load deep inside, your mind drunk on him as you start to drool with your lips parted, too stimulated to even make a sound.

You come at least two times, the feeling of being so full triggered your orgasms without a warning.

You clung to him, your body trembling, completely spent. The world seemed to spin around you, the only constant the feel of his strong arms holding you close.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his breathing began to slow. He loosened his grip slightly, but he didn't let you go. His hand remained firmly planted on the small of your back, possessive and grounding.

You could still feel the faint tremors running through his body, the lingering aftershocks of the storm you had weathered together. He was still pulsing, his semi-hard cock still buried deep inside your pussy, each twitch sending a fresh wave of sensation through your exhausted body.

Time seemed to warp and bend, stretching into an eternity of shared breaths and whispered sighs. Finally, a low groan rumbled from his chest as he shifted, his muscles coiling with renewed strength. The movement was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was enough to reawaken every nerve ending in your body. He pulled your hips up, a slow, deliberate movement that sent a shiver of awareness through your exhausted body. The friction was exquisite, a burning reminder of the pleasure you had just experienced, and the potential for more that still lingered between you.

Then he slipped out, the loss sudden and sharp. The heat that had been contained within you dissipated, leaving a void, a feeling of vulnerability that made you instinctively tighten your muscles. Your spent leaked out, a slick, glistening testament to the raw intensity of your passion, a visible manifestation of the pleasure you had just shared.

He shifted you slightly, just enough so he could observe you. "Look at that mess," he smirked, his voice a low, husky rumble that sent a fresh wave of heat through your veins despite your depleted state.

Nestled in his lap, you couldn't deny the tableau before you. His abdomen and the length of his partially erect cock were slick with your essence, a glistening testament to your shared passion. The sight was both explicit and undeniably arousing, a stark display of your complete surrender and his unyielding power.

A blush crept up your neck, a complex blend of embarrassment and a defiant sense of pride.

Pulling you closer to his chest, he nuzzled his face into you hair, his voice a low murmur against your ear. "Well, that was… fruitful."

You groaned, burying your face in his shoulder. Even now, even after all that, he had the nerve to mention that. His obsession with apples were maddening sometimes.

"You're impossible," You mumbled, your throat dry.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest. "But you love it."

He knew you too well. You did love it. You loved the teasing, the torment, the intensity. You loved the way he pushed you to your limits, the way he made you feel alive.

He pulled back slightly, his purple eyes sparkling with amusement, less intense.

“Speaking of fruit, I believe I promised you an apple pie. Perhaps we should get started on that?”

You swear, the man has no sense of timing. Like, seriously? Apple pie? After the apple-as foreplay stunt he just pulled? You glared at him, trying to summon up some semblance of indignation, but all that came out was a breathless giggle.

Caleb was an amazing cook. It was a fact known and revered by all who had the good fortune to taste his creations. His apple pie was legendary, a masterpiece of flaky crust, cinnamon-spiced apples, and buttery goodness. The same went for his chicken wings, a fiery, flavorful explosion that could reduce grown men to whimpering, grateful wrecks. And despite everything, despite the teasing, the torment, the sheer exasperation he often inspired, you knew in your heart that he would make you the best damn apple pie you had ever tasted. He poured his heart into everything he did, and you knew that even something as simple as baking a pie was, in his own way, an act of love for you.

"You're serious?" you asked, your voice still shaky with a mixture of arousal and amusement. The absurdity of the situation was almost too much to handle.

"Absolutely," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch sending a fresh wave of warmth through you. "Although, I might need your… assistance. Someone has to peel the apples, after all."

You sighed, a small smile playing on your lips. He was infuriating, maddening, and utterly irresistible. He had a way of pushing your buttons, of challenging you, of making you laugh even when you wanted to strangle him. And somehow, you wouldn't have it any other way. He was your chaos, your comfort, your perfectly imperfect partner in crime.

"Fine," you said, leaning down to kiss him softly, a lingering, playful brush of your lips against his. "But you're doing the dishes."

He laughed, a deep, throaty sound that resonated through your body as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss. "It’s not like you would do them anyway. You know that you like to use me any chance you can get.”

You pouted, feigning hurt with an exaggerated frown. "That's not true! I can do house chores any time I get free time." You knew it was a flimsy argument, a desperate attempt to maintain some semblance of control in a situation where you were happily, hopelessly outmatched.

Caleb shook his head, his eyes filled with affection. “And you still like to slack off and it ends with me spoiling you rotten, little brat.” He pinched your cheek playfully, his touch gentle and teasing.

You playfully pushed him, your laughter bubbling up again. “And you still do it.” You knew he enjoyed taking care of you, spoiling you with small gestures and acts of service. It was his love language, and you were fluent.

He kissed your neck, nuzzling it affectionately. The scent of his skin, a musky blend of sweat and apples, filled your senses. “That’s because you’re my princess, Miss Apple.”

[satorusluver]

JJK men's favorite positions in bed (Toji and Nanami)

Tags/warnings: fem reader, established relationship, smut (minors begone), doggy, missionary, creampies, spanking, hickeys, slight breeding kink?

Word count: 460 ish

A/N: Idk this is just rambling about NSFW hcs for Toji/Nanami. Hope to do some of the other JJk men's fave positions too, esp Gojo. 🩵

Toji - doggy, I mean, is anyone surprised? I think he's an ass man (though he certainly appreciates tits) and there isn't a sight Toji enjoys quite as much as watching your ass bounce while he's pounding into you from behind, his thick cock splitting you open, savoring how it makes your poor little cunt look completely overstuffed. The man can't keep his hands off of it, grabbing and squeezing and most definitely spanking it if you're into that.

He's got the meanest smirk afterward too when he sees the red mark of his hand on your skin, chuckling at the way you wince when you try to sit down. He likes to mark you up in general when it comes to sex, leaving hickeys on you so everyone will know what you've been getting up to, that you're not as innocent as you look. He'd also love for you to leave hickeys on him and wouldn't try to hide them. In fact, he would be so fucking cocky about showing them off.

Toji prefers to fuck raw and cum inside you. Even if you were to get pregnant, the way he sees it he's already a father to one kid, so what's another? And maybe he wouldn't mind having a pretty little live-in girlfriend walking around his apartment in nothing but his T-shirt with his baby on your hip.

Nanami - missionary. Kento is romantic, okay? The man makes love, and missionary is his favorite for the intimacy and the ability to see your beautiful face. He's not really domineering in bed, but he will often tell you to look at him when your eyes roll back because as much as he loves the evidence that he's pleasing you, he loves getting to look into your eyes when he's making love to you more.

I don't think he's big on leaving hickeys in visible places because he doesn't want other men to think of his darling gf/wife in a position that's for his eyes only. I also don't think he's big on you leaving hickeys on him in visible places because he overall prefers to keep your private life, well, private. He'll definitely leave them/let you leave them in non-visible areas if you want to though!

Kento is a very attentive partner in your relationship and especially in bed. He always ensures he makes you cum at least once, preferably twice, before he goes over the edge himself - probably while mumbling a barely coherent "I love you", his light blonde hair falling into his eyes and his breath hitching in his throat and as he feels the first spurt of his thick, warm cum spill out from the tip of his dick, still buried deep inside you.

[cringywhitedragon]

”They said it would destroy us all if it got loose. And they were right.”

A once thriving colony.

“98% of Otania has been infested by an alien lifeform we call the Dredge. Anything it infects is converted into one of its drones.”

“The Federation has set up a blockade around the planet. Nothing can get in or out.”

Fighting for survival.

“It’s only a matter of time before one of those creatures finds a way to breach the wall. And when they do, the fleet above us have orders to bombard the planet until nothing remains alive. Including any survivors.”

Their only hope lies in

”My father was always a busy man. But on those rare days off, he would do all he could to spend as much time as he could with mom and I.”

“He never spoke much about his work offworld. Not until now.”

“What are these?”

“Notes. Notes that might be our only chance at saving this place.”

One just like the enemy

“Salutations, I am the Artificial Replicating Unit. You may call me ARU.”

“A self replicating artificial intelligence? I thought the Federation outlawed those years ago after that incident on the Cyclon?”

“I can promise you that I have no intention of going rogue. If anything, the thought of seeing myself as a God terrifies me…”

“O Connell, I think you’re scaring them.”

A scientist and a reluctant smuggler must journey offworld.

“You’re looking to get off this planet then, you’re looking right at him. Captain Daniel O Connell at your service.”

“Ranolnt? The 4th planet in this system!? There’s no way in hell. The federation patrols that place more than a swarm of Hydralian Sandshulkers do their nest.”

“Just trust me on this.”

A twist on the old tales of rogue AIs and a love letter to the genre of sci fi

“Just like you, I am capable of expressing what humans call emotions. Like now! SECURITY DRONE AHEAD!”

“ARU!”

“I am ok. The rover might be damaged beyond usability but this drones works even better.”

“I never thought I would be saying this but ARU acts so… Human. I don’t know what your father did when designing them but he sure did a damn good job at it.”

A tale of hope, love, and secrets.

“I don’t know what you two found that was so important but it better be worth it!”

“This has to be one of the craziest journeys of my life. And I just want to say thank you.”

“Thank you for being here.”

Activating self destruct sequence in t minus 5 minutes

“No! You can do this to him!”

And just what it means for something to truly be considered “Human”

“He never treated it like a machine. He treated them like one of his own children.”

“I may be made of metal but that doesn’t mean I cannot show love.”

Man of Machine

”Why…. You are a Myraid like us. Why would you defend them?”

“Because they created me- and that’s enough for my gratitude.”

Coming Summer 2026

"Why? You are myriad like us... Why would you defend them?" the powerful hive mind asks the united army it's fighting, speaking through a million bodies, but still understood. "Because they created me—and that's enough for my gratitude," the machines respond in unison.

[melanchoire]

cld you do giselle and reader roomates who “help” eachother when horny? ^^

cw: ass eating, cunnilingus, fingering, scissoring, 69ning.

i see giselle capable of doing this 😭 you could be sitting on the couch of the living room on any given day of the week in the afternoon, focused on completing homework when she plops down on the couch and says “oh my god i’m so horny right now” 💀

it would take you so by surprise that you would have to turn to look at her hoping that she was joking, but she looks so frustrated and disappointed that you feel like she’s not completely joking...

you know giselle’s reputation, her typical routine of partying all weekend and kissing or sleeping with as many people as possible, and you weren’t against that! she is attractive and has a hot body, you would fall for it too

“can’t you just, i don’t know, text one of your many boyfriends?”

“ugh, sexting isn’t the same as fucking. i want to get laid, not dick pics.”

and well— you loved giselle's honesty, but sometimes it was too much even for you or for her own good

“don’t you want to help me? you know, fuck and stuff.”

“giselle what the fuck—?”

“oh shut up, (y/n).” and she takes the computer off your lap and places it on the coffee table, climbs onto your lap and takes your hands to guide them to her ass 😳 you would have refused if it weren’t for the fact that you were focused on her tits practically pressed against your face and the feeling of her ass in your hands… giselle is hot as hell and you wouldn’t miss the chance to fuck her! honestly, it’s something you’ve wanted for a long time

dry hump with giselle on your lap with a steamy session of messy and sloppy kisses as you two grope each other’s bodies, squeezing tits and pinching nipples through the thin fabric of t-shirts or gropping each other's asses playfully 😵‍💫 both giselle and you wanted this for a long time and it shows in how you never hesitate before your actions

69ning with gigi with her on top 🥴 you always looked at her ass when she wore very short pants or just ones that really accentuated her attributes, so when she made you lay on your back on the couch you almost drooled watching her sit on your face with her pussy on your mouth and her ass lowering onto your face...

moaning into each other’s pussy because you two are fingering each other at a fast pace, massaging her thighs and squeezing the skin between your fingers or spanking her to make her squeal and leave finger marks on her creamy skin🫠 taking advantage to start to tease giselle, parting her buttocks and giving a long and slow one all over her slit, from her clit to her ass, grinning against her when you hear the shaky moan that leaves her lips

giselle can only moan against your pussy, and that’s all for giselle to start enjoying your teasing. stopping the actions of her mouth on you to end up sitting properly on your face, tilting her head and throwing her messy hair over her shoulder as she moves her hips against your mouth and begins to lose herself in pleasure 🥴 but she’s not selfish! she knows you’re just as horny as she is, so being the kind roommate she is, she ends up riding your mouth at the same time as she fingers you and uses her other hand to rub your clit 💕

even when her juices are gushing out of her pussy and soaking your entire face, she's not done yet! but the moment she lifted her ass from your face she directly positioned herself between your legs, aligning her pussy with yours but in a reverse way in which she was turning her back to you because she enjoyed more than she should the sharp spankings that you provided her at all times 🥰

gigi being so exhausted but wanting to continue 😔 laying on her side and lazily making out with you, pressing her sticky, sweaty body against yours and saying “c’mon, (y/n). just one more. i need one more.” looking so attractive with her messy hair and sweaty forehead 😩 giselle being so insatiable that you don’t understand how she can calm her needs when she is alone 😭 but she is lucky that from now on, whenever she has a problem, her roommate will be here willing to help her

[00valentina-writes00]

someone breaks into the house and tries to kill reader, caitlyn comes home to her bleeding out on the floor?

♡♥︎ Stay With Me ♥︎♡

Warnings: injury, blood, Caitlyn is worried, (Grayson makes an appearance cause she’s not dead cause I say so!), angst, opened ended ending

The night had been quiet.

Too quiet, in fact. The kind of stillness that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, urging you to check the locks one more time, even though you already had. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

You were alone in the house, Caitlyn working late at the office, trying to solve another one of Piltover’s many problems. It wasn’t unusual. She had long hours, and you had gotten used to the silence that filled the house when she wasn’t home. You always found ways to keep busy, reading, drawing, or working on your own projects. But tonight, it was different. The shadows seemed to stretch unnaturally long, the silence felt suffocating.

It wasn’t until you heard the soft creak of the door opening that your heart skipped a beat.

You froze.

It wasn’t Caitlyn. She would’ve called, let you know she was home. No, this wasn’t her.

You grabbed the nearest object—a heavy glass vase—and held it in your shaking hands, hoping it would be enough to defend yourself, even though you knew it probably wouldn’t. The sound of footsteps grew louder, too close, too fast.

—

Caitlyn had been on edge all night.

There was something about the case she was working on—something about the criminal she was tracking—that didn’t sit right with her. She’d been distracted, more focused than usual, as if her mind kept drifting back to something she couldn’t put her finger on.

But when she’d finally gotten the call that the case was closed for the night, she was grateful.

The streets of Piltover were quieter than usual as she made her way back to your shared home, the feeling of unease growing in her chest. She was almost there when her comms buzzed in her ear.

“Caitlyn?”

She straightened, immediately alert. “What is it, Grayson?”

“We’ve had a disturbance reported at your residence,” Grayson’s voice crackled through the comms. “Neighbors heard sounds of a struggle. We’re sending backup, but you need to get there now.”

Caitlyn’s heart stopped.

Without another word, she broke into a sprint, her boots pounding against the cobblestones, the familiar ache in her chest turning into a cold, sick feeling of dread.

Her mind raced with thoughts of what could be happening, of what might have already happened. She wasn’t fast enough, she thought. She should’ve gotten home sooner.

As she rounded the corner, her heart sank into her stomach. The front door of your house was wide open.

Caitlyn didn’t hesitate. She kicked the door open the rest of the way, her gun drawn as she stormed inside, her eyes scanning every inch of the living room.

Her breath caught when she saw you.

You were lying on the floor, your body curled into itself like you were trying to protect your wounds, your clothes stained dark with blood. Your skin was pale, your chest rising and falling in shallow, ragged breaths.

“Hey,” Caitlyn choked out, her voice shaking as she rushed to your side, kneeling next to you. She dropped her gun, not even thinking about it, and gently cupped your face with trembling hands. “Hey, look at me. Stay with me, okay?”

You blinked up at her, your eyes unfocused, your hand weakly reaching out to her.

“Cait—Caitlyn…” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“I’m here. I’m here,” she murmured, her hands moving quickly to check for the worst of the injuries. She pressed a hand to the bleeding wound in your side, doing her best to stop the blood flow. “Shh, stay calm. Help’s coming. Just stay with me, alright?”

Your breaths were ragged, each one a struggle, and Caitlyn’s heart ached at the sight.

The blood soaked through her fingers as she pressed harder, her hands slick, but she couldn’t stop. Not yet. Not until she knew you were going to be okay.

She held you tighter, brushing your hair back from your forehead as your eyelids fluttered, threatening to close.

“Stay awake, please,” Caitlyn begged, her voice breaking. “I need you here. I need you to stay with me.”

You tried to focus on her, tried to keep your eyes open, but your body was growing weaker with every passing second. The world around you was spinning, your vision blurring with the tears that kept threatening to fall.

Caitlyn was still here. That was all you could think about. Her voice, her touch, the way her breath hitched in her throat.

But you were so tired.

“Please, don’t go,” Caitlyn whispered, her voice trembling. “I can’t lose you. Not like this.”

You wanted to say something—anything to reassure her, to let her know you were still here—but your throat felt tight, the words dying before they could leave your mouth.

Caitlyn wasn’t giving up, though. She refused. Her hands pressed harder against your side, her face full of worry and desperation.

“I’m not letting you go,” she said, her words fierce despite the crack in her voice. “You hear me? You’re gonna make it through this. You’re gonna be okay.”

The sounds of sirens grew louder, and Caitlyn could hear the rush of footsteps outside. Grayson and the backup were close. But for now, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was you.

With every labored breath you took, every wince you made, Caitlyn’s heart shattered a little more. But she wouldn’t leave you. She couldn’t.

“I love you,” Caitlyn said softly, her lips brushing your temple, her voice full of so much emotion it made her own chest ache. “I love you so much. Stay with me. Please.”

Your eyelids fluttered once more, but this time, you managed to whisper back, though it was barely a breath.

“I love you too… so much…”

[everythingmp3]

changing her ways

adult!Van x fem!reader

when Van invites you over to her place, all she expects is just another meaningless hookup - what happens instead is that she ends up breaking her rule of never letting lovers stay over, never being romantic, never being tender, and the next morning, she doesn´t seem to regret it. not one bit.

authors note: felt like writing some more for her and used the idea of spending the morning with her after a hook-up to explore what it might look like if she met someone she actually liked during her era of "getting her needs met". hope you enjoy <3 (around 6k words)

warnings: some smut, both receiving

it had always sounded a bit cliché to you, sentiments like "love will come to you when you’re least looking for it", but there was a truth at its core, one that applied to how you and Van first crossed paths as lovers.

later on, you would come to look back and feel eternally grateful for the boredom you had felt that Friday night when you and her first met, because the only reason you ended up swiping through dating apps was that you had little else to do.

you weren’t really looking to meet up with anyone, it was more of a game to you, but then, out of nowhere, you were struck by the profile of an older woman. for a moment you hesitated but she was too painfully your type to let the chance pass you by, so you forced yourself to get over your nerves and start a chat with her. to your surprise, it only took her about ten minutes to respond, which you tried to take as a good sign, as encouragement to actually try to get somewhere with her.

Van was a dry texter, not one for chit-chat, so after a few brief words, she cut to the chase and asked you "would you maybe wanna come over for a drink?".

you werent naive, you knew that it was just a more polite way of saying "listen, I am just looking to hook up" but you didn’t mind, in fact, something about her being so forward and shameless about her interest thrilled you, it had its appeal after one too many times of wondering whether a woman was actually flirting or just being friendly - it also helped that she was older, a certain thrill to the feeling of being told "come over here" by someone who naturally held a bit of authority, simply due to your age difference. there was a faint smile of anticipation on your face the whole way over to her place, the sun disappearing behind the horizon as you entered her dark store and climbed the stairs up to her apartment.

the moment Van greeted you, not with a hug but an appreciative long glance over your figure as she stood by the counter and prepared a drink for you, it hit you: she was even hotter than expected. shockingly so. her voice immediately struck you at your core, the way she said "please, come in, sit", low and husky, an almost primal quality to the way your body reacted to her, the total conviction when you thought to yourself "I have to have her".

you tried not to stare too obviously as you waited for her on the couch but in person she was naturally much more striking than in the few photos you´d seen of her; her was outfit simple, a pair of well-fitted jeans and a white shirt, but something about the way the fabric hugged her curves made you feel warm all over when she came closer and joined you on the couch and handed you your glass. her hair fell down her shoulders in soft, thick waves and your fingers already ached with the desire to feel it, your heartbeat quicker when she finally looked at you face-on and seemed to like what she saw, undeniably so.

usually, the drink was only a polite gesture she offered people to make the transition from being strangers into having sex more smooth, with most of her lovers she had made it clear that a few minutes of talking were more than enough for her, she was not the type to dance around why she had invited someone over, but with you it was different.

Van found herself actually enjoying your company, the time passed quickly as you sat there and got to know each other a bit, there was a natural chemistry, a spark, both of you genuinely laughing here and there, getting invested in what the other person was saying, urging each other to go on, to share a bit more. the thing that caught her off-guard was that you were different than the other younger women she´d been with before.

Van tended to go for people who were of a different generation because she liked the control it gave her, the predictability of it, she was used to girls being easily flustered by her, being nervous and not really pushing back, letting her take the lead, but from the first minute you started talking, she realized: oh. this is new. she is not intimidated by me. the moment you told her "most of those tapes down there are older than me, you know", almost as if you were judging her, messing with her a bit, she thought "okay. this could be very fun" and let go of her initial fear of being with an equal.

you fell into a nice rhythm of conversation, so eventually she got you a second drink and completely forgot about her rule of keeping the people she slept with at arms length, anonymous, never asking for more details about their personal life than their first name and age. thirty minutes passed before you both remembered why you´d met up in the first place, which suddenly made you go quiet with anticipation, eyeing each other from up close and almost holding your breaths as you felt just how charged the air had become, how quickly you had managed to sink into a deep attraction to each other, a shared feeling of "I need her. badly.".

it was the first time in ages that Van felt butterflies before leaning into kiss someone, but she did, as she put her hand on your face and felt you meet her halfway to kiss her, deeply, her whole body burning with a fire that she´d long thought extinguished, but there it was, her whole face and chest flush pink from it as she held your face in both of her hands while kissing you, almost as if she was afraid you´d leave, pull back, change your mind, but you were just as eager, if not more, pressing yourself up against her and caressing her hair as you moved on the couch to be half on her lap, closer, as close as possible, her hands wandering down to your thighs to support you, her grip almost bruising in its urgency.

Van had gone a long time without indulging in that kind of sensuality, she hardly ever kissed people for longer than necessary during sex or leading up to it, but right then she remembered how much she had missed it, craved it, her hands all over you as you made out and sighed between kisses, her fingers briefly tilting your head up to allow her better access to your neck as her grip on you tightened - she seemingly wanted to devour you, which killed your ability to remain quiet or composed in any way, as you felt her thigh pressing up between your legs and let out a sound that broke down her last bit of restraint, the second she heard you moan like that for her, she pulled you up to lead you to her bedroom.

once you were both on her bed, after a frantic attempt to get undressed as fast as possible, you got lost in a neediness and desperation for each other that almost scared you, both of you shaking from how turned on you were, wet to a degree that almost hurt as you kissed and moved against each other, her eventually holding your arms down by your sides as you felt her lips and tongue, her teeth, all over your chest and stomach, over your underwear, teasing you, savoring the mess you´d made, before she went down on you like she was close to starving, which she was, after only ever allowing herself rushed and impersonal sex for too long, the kind of sex that was only focused on getting off and nothing more, you could feel it in the way she held your thighs apart and moaned from your taste, that she had not felt arousal like that in ages, and you willingly surrendered, letting her take her time with pleasing you, making you come undone, before you eagerly returned the energy, which turned into a long night of both of you taking turns again and again with helping the other person feel as good as possible, you and her both taking a deep pleasure in the way you managed to both worship and wreck each other, to be in a place of joint helplessness against the wave of desire that had swept you up out of nowhere, that left you raw and open in the most delicious way, sensitive to the smallest touch, the lightest kisses and licks, every little thing you did to each other.

in the middle of it, as Van was melting into you, against your mouth, as she felt another orgasm spreading through her already weak limbs, she thought "this is too intense, stop this, tell her to stop and leave" but she couldn´t bring herself to, you had done the thing she´d considered impossible for a stranger to mange: you´d broken down her walls. you´d made her surrender. you´d gotten under her skin, and as much as she wanted to hate it and tell herself to push you away, all she could think when she saw you look up at her with your chin and lips glistening, a tired but pleased smile on your face, was: this is what I´ve been missing.

the thing that drove you insane that night was that she was sensitive in a way you had no expected at all, you could tell that she was getting something she hadn´t in while from the way she moaned, almost in a pained manner, assuring you that she was fine when you paused to give her a moment to breathe, kissed her face and allowed her to take a second before you continued, her hands on the small of your back to ground herself as she sighed "don´t stop when I seem overwhelmed, just keep going, I want you to, okay?", which you didn´t have to be told twice, leaving both of you ruined by the end of the night before you fell asleep satisfied, tired, tangled up in the crumpled sheets, the pillows in the wrong place, and yet, a deep sense of comfort wrapped around you, Van half-conscious still as she wrapped her arms around you and forgot about her rule of sending people home, never sharing her bed. it felt right, healing in a way, to feel her lovers soft breath as she drifted off, her face close enough to you to be lulled to sleep by the scent of your skin, that she´d quickly become addicted to, a light kiss to your shoulder before sleep took her as well.

the next morning, she woke up earlier than you, so after a while of laying there, Van sat up and rested against the headboard and smiled to herself when you moved to rest on top of her. you were still half-asleep as you laid your head on her chest and savored the feeling of being heavy and limp on top of her, her body still warm from sleep, a feeling of utter ease even though you were in a strangers bed.

if anyone had told Van the evening before how she would start the next day, she would have cringed at the idea of allowing that level of intimacy, but the way you were laying there evoked a foreign mix of both affection and protectiveness in her, as she watched you and ran her palm up and down your back, slowly, eventually caressing your hair, which got a purring sound out of you that made her laugh quietly and ask "comfortable there?", a nod from you and a half-mumbled "yeah.. very.." in response as you kept your eyes closed and felt soothed by the feeling of idle, soft touches.

Van´s body felt both soft and firm under you, a strength to her arms as she held you up that contrasted the tenderness she was offering you, so it took you a while before you managed to pull yourself away and fully wake up. it hit you then that she had been sitting up for a while already, so you propped yourself up on your elbows, looked up at her and asked "wait, how long have you been awake?".

Van shrugged and said "hm, like an hour maybe?".

"what? you´ve been waiting for me to wake up for an hour??", you felt a little guilty then but she smiled and cocked her head "well, it´s not like this is torture exactly, having a pretty girl laying on me." you were charmed and gave her a little nudge before you rubbed your eyes and stretched your limbs, as Van kept looking at you and reached out caress your sides, "youre a sweet sleeper you know" she mused.

"how so?" you asked, curious then. "I was half awake when you snuggled up to lay your head here" she pointed at the crook of her neck, "kinda like kitten" she added, to tease you a bit, which made you flush and shrug to brush it off, but she went on, a bit more earnest then, "I´m not used to that.. it felt nice". from her that counted as high praise, you could tell from the way she seemed kinda shy about having said it, so you leaned in closer and grinned, "oh really? you usually kick people out after?".

you were half joking but a look of guilt settle on Van´s face, you could basically see her cringe at some of the memories that your question had brought up, so you laughed and said "oh wow", kind of amused by the idea of her being the type to tell hook-ups to leave in the middle of the night. you moved to put your hands on her shoulders and look at her more closely, stunned by her face in the daylight, her freckles that you had only vaguely been aware of the night before, briefly too enamored to speak before you asked "so, are you regretting it now, that you broke that habit and let me stay?".

Van shook her head and gave you a sheepish smile, "oh no, no quite the opposite actually" while pulling you closer, her arms tight around your back as she kissed your neck and breathed in, started feeling you up a bit, turned on by the sweet, slightly disheveled look of you, the clear difference in your ages admittedly a turn-on for her, a rush of possessiveness as she felt you submit to her touch and thought "yeah she´s mine" even though you definitely weren´t, a content "hmmm" sound from you as you ran your fingers through her hair and let her have her way.

after she pulled back, she stared into your eyes, seemingly searching for something in your expression, and smiled as she asked "I have no idea why the fuck you agree to come here last night. are you sure you´re not having some kind of crisis and I am just taking advantage of it?". the way she phrased that made you laugh before you responded "oh sure, because there no way I could have found you hot otherwise", your eyes sparkling with amusement as she nodded, "yeah, thought so", a subtle smirk that gave away that she was having flashbacks of just how into her you´d been, the things you´d done for her, with her, to her, during the night, so you used the moment of warm silence to briefly snuggle up to her again and rest your head on her shoulder.

after a moment Van nudged you and said "you´re gonna fall asleep again, huh" not displeased by your unconcealed affection, but you protested "no, no I´m good" and sat upright then. "you hungry?" Van asked as she pulled the blanket off and moved to get up "yeah, pretty hungry actually" you admitted while getting out on the other side of the bed, "good, I´ll make you something nice, come, take whatever clothes you want" she told you as she pulled on a shirt and boxer shorts, while gesturing over at her closet, so you quickly opted for a soft oversized t-shirt and some thin cotton shorts, which made her glance over at you with a mix of endearment and lust, the unfamiliar sight of someone in her clothes stirring something deep within her, yet another aspect of romance that shed missed more than she cared to admit.

once you were in her living space again, you instinctively took a seat by the counter as she started rummaging around in the kitchen and told you to sit back and let her do the work, to be her guest, briefly checking for your preferences, how you took your coffee, if you were in the mood for something savory or sweet, if you needed some water or juice or both, taking pleasure in the unfamiliar act of serving her lover something to eat.

as she moved around the kitchen, you sat with your head leaning on your hand, watching her, which she would have shut down with a "you´re staring." if it had been anyone else, but with you, in that moment, the attention was invited, you could tell from the way she carried out certain movements that she was aware of you gaze and enjoying it, playing into it a bit, a silent erotic communication between you. "are you hungover at all?" she asked you, as she put some finishing touches on the two plates she was assorting for you, so you had to suppress a laugh as you eyed her and answered "hungover? from two drinks?...".

Van shot you a glare and waved you off, "forget it. enjoy this while it lasts, its not gonna be so funny when youre my age" flipping her hair over her shoulder before turning around and getting something else from the fridge. "I can only hope to look as good as you then" you told her in a purposely overly sweet tone, batting your eyelashes at her when she turned back around and gave you another critical look, trying her best not to appear flustered, the flush on her cheeks betraying her, "easy there." she warned you, without any true heat behind the words. "you´re trouble, huh" she said, more to herself than you, as she poured the coffee and saw how pleased with yourself you looked, sitting there, taking in the view of her growing a little hot from your unwavering attention, "me?" you asked, feigning innocence, to which she only said "yeah, you miss", smiling, both amused and a little frustrated how easy it was for you to get a rise out of her, after years of her considering herself stone-cold.

after she slid the finished plates over to where you were already sitting, she walked around to join you but stopped as she stood right behind you she paused, and without thinking she followed the instinct she felt then and slid her arms around your waist from behind, rested her head on your shoulder, shut her eyes for a second. you rested your hands over hers and soaked up the unexpected sudden tenderness, the way she audibly breathed out, almost as if some ancient weight was falling off from her shoulders, which perhaps was close to the truth, something about her touch tinged with a mix of gratitude and disbelief, as if she was making sure she hadn´t just dreamed you up.

after a few seconds of allowing herself to fully drop her walls, she pulled herself away and seemed a little shy afterwards as she took her place next to you and joined you in taking a first few bites, you just smiling to yourself instead of commenting on it.

for a few minutes you ate in relative silence, both of you only then realizing how starved the hours of fucking had left you, the morning sun casting the room in a soothing hue of gold, her hair even prettier then than the night before, glowing almost. you paused your eating to look at her from the side as she wiped a few crumbs from her mouth, absentmindedly pushed her hair back, seemed a little zoned out, which gave you the chance to shamelessly stare for a while, your gaze roaming over her, settling on her mid-thighs, where her plaid boxers had moved up a bit, revealing a decent amount of her leg, the faint freckles, which reminded you of how soft her skin had felt against yours, how sexy it was to you, that she had a certain delicate quality, something girl-ish almost in certain lights, fragile even, that opposed her tough vibe, her deep voice, her aura of "don´t mess with me".

you couldn´t help but reach out to caress her thigh, while saying "you look hot like this" tracing a line down her skin, which made her turn to you and say "likewise" in a low tone, as she gave you an equally appraising look and placed her hand over yours and kept it pressed against her leg for a beat longer, a shared pang of need detectable in both of your expressions then, an electricty as you looked eyes and saw your want mirror back to yourself. you both seemed to be getting flashbacks right then as you cleared your throat and removed your hand, trying to act casual, eating a bit more, while you were both left with tingling sensations all over your body where you´d felt the other´s hands and lips the night before, the sounds and taste of it coming back to you as well, the sensations that had banished all thoughts from your mind except one word, repeating, "more, more, more".

"we were pretty eager, huh..." Van said in a barely audible tone, which made you smile and say "yeah..", remembering how you had both moaned desperately just from kissing, how you´d already come close to finishing just from grinding up against each other before actually having sex, the neediness, the way you´d abandoned all pretense and let the other one see you in a state that could be considered undignified, considering the way you´d both begged each other to be taken, devoured. it had been unexpectedly intimate for a first time, it was palpable in the way you glanced at each other then and felt almost a little smug about how well you had fit together, physically, how hot the memories were to you.

you were both quietly getting turned on again, but you managed to keep it subtle for the time being, so you gestured at the empty plates and asked "so, if you dont let people stay usually, I´m assuming this is also not a common occurence?". Van nodded and leaned in a bit as she said "yes, correct, you cheated your way into this position, played some dirty tricks on me" a tap to your forearm, a hint of amusement to her demeanor when she saw the flicker of pride in your eyes, since you did love the idea of being an exception, having her in a way few others did, or even better, nobody else.

you could tell she was thinking of something then, so you nudged her and asked "what?" genuinely curious. "oh it´s just, it´s been a while since it felt the way it did last night..." she said, a little more earnest then, so your curiosity was peaked and you turned to face her more directly, your knee briefly brushing hers, another rush of warmth that you both felt at the same time. "how so?" you asked. she drummed her fingers on the counter and thought for a second before explaining "this might sound a bit corny but I usually feel like people aren´t really seeing me, like they see a role I could play for them, if that makes sense? and sometimes that can be fun or whatever, playing the part, I am fine with that, I sought it out, but with you... I don´t know. you paid attention in a way that felt kinda intense, like you were actually trying to understand me.. you were sweet, hard to describe, but I missed that, feeling like I might like to be friends with the person I am seeing"

you understood what she meant and it flattered you, the way she´d put that, so you made as sound of agreement and said "yeah, it felt natural, easy", "exactly yes" Van affirmed, looking up at you again then, a warm smile before she added "and you know, it also helped that youre fucking hot." she briefly caressed your cheek when she saw the subtle bashfulness she´d elicited with that comment, it came out of nowhere and left her feeling exposed in her affection for you, but the way you leaned into her palm killed any instinct to reel it back in. you returned the energy by leaning over and giving her a lingering kiss, your hand on her neck, remaining only a few inches from her face when you told her "I wouldn´t have been able to tell that youre not used to all this if you hadn´t told me" which you meant, she was far from unromantic and detached with you, which didn´t match her own description of herself, the way she usually went about intimacy, so she grinned and ran her hands down your back as she whispered "well, I had some practice earlier in life".

you nodded and took in her features from up close, her pink lips, her freckled nose, the deep blue of her eyes and said "right. broke some hearts, didn´t you?", which made her laugh and shrug "maybe. got mine shattered too though, so, balances out" you could detect a truth in there, which made you wonder what exactly that heartbreak had entailed, how her life had looked, a sudden need to know much more about this woman you´d so randomly come to feel deeply connected to just within a night. "god that just made me sound old as fuck huh" she sighed and shook her head while taking the dirty dishes over the sink, which made you laugh and play along with it by saying "maybe".

since breakfast was over, you were both eager to be more comfortable again and moved to the couch, where she urged you to lay your legs over her lap, instead of sitting there all polite with them crossed, her hands immediately settling on your knees, rubbing up and down a little. Van was stunned by how easy it was for her to slip back into the physicality she had had with girlfriends, people she´d actually cared for, she realized how good it felt to just lounge around with a lover, that it came naturally to her, that her fears of it had been unjustified, it was a hard truth to accept for her but as you got comfortable with your legs sprawled out over her, she couldn´t deny that in her heart, she´d been longing for it, a girl to call her own again.

"so. are you counting down the minutes until you can leave?" she joked, which amused you, considering just how obviously you were enjoying yourself in that position, so you joked back and said "oh sure, I am clearly dying to run off". "but on a real note, do you want a ride home when you go? Id be happy to drive you home", she asked, and you appreciated the offer but the feel of her hands on you made it hard to accept it, you wanted nothing less than to leave but you also didnt wanna impose, so you tentatively said "well... I mean I don´t really need to be anywhere today, so.." hoping she´d catch on to the subtext there, which she did, charmed by your hesitation, the nervousness that contrasted the boldness you´d already shown her, a mix that she liked, kept her intrigued. "ah, I see, do you maybe wanna stay for a bit longer then?" she suggested, before she could talk herself into sabbotaging this fresh, strangely enjoyable romance shed stumbled into without even realizing at first the night before.

"yes" you said, a bit too fast, eager to accept the offer, sensing that she was also glad to have a bit more time with you, so you pushed your luck a bit and added "I mean, not to be clingy but if you want I could get some of my stuff later and stay another night? I liked sleeping with you.." you meant the actual act of sleeping, but the double meaning was also true, so you didn´t correct yourself when you realized how that had come out. Van smiled and nodded, her hands still on your legs, squeezing lightly, "yeah, me too. and you could also just use my things and not leave at all".

you shared a look of fondness as you both realized that you weren´t alone in your need to stay together for the time being, "yeah, let´s do it that way" you agreed. "but be warned" Van said, lowering her voice for dramatic effect, "you might get really fucking tired of me in like two hours. I am sure you´re used to company that´s more.. well, like you". you leaned in a bit, "like me?", Van pulled you even closer then, grabbed your arm and grinned and as she finished her thought "oh you know, young, fun, dazzling" clearly messing with you, laying it on thick, but a genuine compliment hidden in there, which made you lean closer too and brush a strand of hair out of her face as you smiled, "I´ll manage, and who knows, maybe some of it will rub off on you" teasing her a little, running your hand down her side, leaving it to rest on her waist.

"god willing" she whispered and used her strength to pull you up against her for good, sighing "come here" as she felt you adjust your position and climb half on top of her, your thighs pressing down against hers. it took her only a second to pull you in for a proper kiss, the kind you hadn´t shared yet that morning, a shared sigh as you started making out, slowly, drawing each kiss out, her hands under your shirt, yours on her neck, her taste both sweet and still lightly bitter from the coffee, faint whimpering sounds from her when you grew hungry and licked over her bottom lip, felt for her tongue with yours, felt her surrender to it, her mouth open, a sloppiness to your kisses that made it hard not to wanna do more, so once you felt yourselves growing a bit too hot too fast, you pulled back to breathe, to ground yourselves, hands still gripping each other´s shirts tightly.

you smiled at her, pleased by the sight of her flushed face, her glistening lips, and said "you´re kinda selfish you know". Van was still dazed from before but snapped out of it to respond "huh??", the offense in her tone making you laugh as you played with her hair, "all of this, so much space up here and you never let lovers stay".

"well, I am not great company usually, so, did them a favor" she uttered, her fingers tracing patterns on your back. "so, you work alone downstairs all day and then spend the nights up here alone too?", "yeah pretty much..." she admitted, aware that she lived a kind of hermit lifestyle. "how have you not lost your mind?" you asked, half-joking, which made her grin, a flicker of mischief, "who says I haven´t?" staring into your eyes as she said it.

"right, sure" you said, amused by her quick wit, acutely aware of the heat where your skin was still pressing down against hers, a subtle heat growing where only some very thin fabric was keeping you from feeling her the way you wanted to, a light shit of your position that didn´t escape her, that made her push her thigh up a bit to fuck with you, to hear the sigh you inevitably let out. "yeah don´t say I didn´t warn you later on" she whispered. "warn me? I think I can handle a middle aged loner" you retorted and pushed your hands into her hair, not very gently, payback, aware that it made her weak to be handled like that. "you don´t know the half of it, lady" she said while smiling up at you, not backing down, so you moved one of your hands to her face, tracing her scars with your index finger while asking "oh yeah? something to do with this maybe?".

"maybe" Van echoed, smug, watching you briefly get lost in the act of closely inspecting the red lines that graced her pretty face, pleased by the way she could see the wheels turn behind your eyes. in a way that was perhaps a bit twisted, it did turn her on, to know that you had no idea that she had once been feral, that she had hunted and eaten people before, that she had a capacity for animalistic behavior that surpassed what you were assuming right then, mostly because something told her that you might be the kind of girl who wouldn´t just be shocked but also a little into it, the idea of her being capable of things like that, she´d just known you for a night, but she was nearly certain that the reaction she could get out of you would be priceless.

"tell me then, what dark secret are you keeping?" you asked her, your nose almost brushing hers from how close you were, her breath hot against your lips as she shook her head "lets maybe go on a date first before I spill that to you, hm". "this isn´t a date?" you asked, feigning ignorance, pretending to be a little disappointed, so she laughed "no, this is what you´d call a hookup, sorry to say sweetie" a faux act of consolation then, a few light slaps to your upper thigh. "but" she added "we can turn it into a date". you moved a bit then, to sit next to her again instead of on her, your hand reaching for hers, unwilling to let go of her. "when´s the last time you´ve been on one? do you remember how to behave?" you teased, which earned you a shove in the side "very funny, yes I do recall".

"okay, what do you wanna do today then, hm?" you asked, elbow propped up on the couch to look at her while resting your head against your arm. "oh lets see" she said, while tilting her head back for a second, looking at the ceiling as she felt her fingers laced through yours and thought about it. "we could enjoy the sun, walk around for a bit, go to this nice cafe I know for lunch, its really fucking good" you nodded, more than happy to spend your day like that, but before you could say anything about it, she beat you to it by moving closer to you, snaking her arm around your waist, and saying "but before all that... I think we should go back to bed for a while" an authority, a determination to he tone then that made your face feel hot under her unyielding gaze. "yeah, agree..." you said and pushed her back against the couch cushion to grope her, out of nowhere, a self-satisfied grin when you heard her groan "fuck" from the feel of your fingers digging into her chest over her shirt, "you´re so sensitive" you teased, not letting up, kissing her cheek as she grew needier by the second, "yeah and you´re relentless" she uttered, briefly submitting to your force before she used the position she was in to move her hand down your shorts, only to tease, but the second she brushed over you, the whine you let out told her: keep going. she wants more.

so she held you close as she used the other hand to tease you, not fully jerking you off, but playing with you, moving her fingertips up and down, feeling some of the wetness that had gathered, using it to press down against your clit and draw achingly slow circles as you clung to her, eyes shut, hips jerking a bit to meet her hand, nodding, your lips parted as you sighed "please dont stop..". Van took the chance to kiss your neck, to have you fully melt against her, her fingers adding some more pressure as you grew soaked for her and tilted your head to the side to let her kiss all the way up to your jaw, faint sighs as she breathed in your scent, got high on the feeling of having you that pliant and soft for her, so receptive, whispering sweet things to you as it took you no time at all to feel a climax go through you, less intense than the ones you´d had the night before, but still, enough to leave you weak and wanting more, much more. her fingers were still on you, drawing out some last few jolts of pleasure, as you leaned in to her ear and sighed "I wanna feel you... I wanna feel you come against me..".

"jesus..." Van groaned at the thought, since that was another thing that she´d stopped allowing herself, anything like tribbing was off the table with hookups, since she knew how much she enjoyed it when she was really into someone, how sensitive to that sensation she was, how easily it could turn her into a whimpering mess, but she couldn´t deny you, not then, not while still feeling your mess all over her fingers and already growing wet herself from the thought of having your cunt pressed up against hers, for a torturous amount of time, she wanted it to hurt, to be too much almost, so she nodded, her voice cracked with lust as she said "yeah.. yeah okay, come", pulling you up from the couch to have fantasy become reality as fast as possible.

you both quickly undressed and settled back into her bed, her sitting back against the pillows as you tried to find the best angle and moved her leg up to put yours under it, adjusting your hips until you both moaned in agreement when you found the right spot. you were both turned on enough to a point where you didn´t need spit or lube to make yourselves slick enough, your arousals mixing as you started grinding down against her and saw her shut her eyes, trying her best not to sound pathetic, while already feeling like she might lose her mind just from watching you move against her like that, hearing you whimper from it, since it felt even better than expected, an intensity to the feeling of your cunts almost making out in a way that left you weak in the most maddening way.

Van was happy to just sit there and grab your waist in support as you trapped her in a way, made her submit to your pace, the way you rubbed yourself up against her, that delicious sense of helplessness that she had always craved in bed, which you could tell from the way she shook and uttered broken up phrases between her moans like "god.. don’t stop..." and "so fucking pretty...", watching you in awe as you purposely drew it out and waited until she was close to finishing to join her and feel your orgasms hit you at the same time, eyes locked as you rode it out and were both left wrecked and breathless from it.

after you moved down from her, you could tell that she was still somewhat riled up, so you touched her where she was slicked up from both your and her own cum, moved your head down to lick over her chest and suck on one of her tits, as you felt her hold your head in place, almost as if to prevent you from stopping, to make you keep her sensitive flesh in your mouth, and drew out another high, a follow-up one that was less intense but just a needed extra release, a pleased smiled on her face after you finally moved away and laid down next to her, a barely audible "fucking hell…" that made you feel a rush of pride.

after a minute of satisfied silence, you both turned to look at each other from the side and mirrored the action of tracing each others outline, your leg draped over hers, a the room warm and quiet, the morning sun casting long shadows on the floor, over your figures.

Van was the first to speak again, "thank god you were reckless enough to come to some strangers house without even facetiming or calling before. that was kinda risky you know.." a hint of respect in there for how bold you´d been.

you smiled and answered "well. it paid off. and I am done with all that for now, so, no danger there". Van´s eyes lit up when she registered the subtext there and inquired "oh yeah?" to hear it confirmed, that you wanted to keep seeing her, only her. "yeah" you whispered and caressed her arm, "me too" she said, relieved that the days of meeting strangers for meaningless sex might just be coming to an end, that she was entering a new era, that romance was slowly entering her life again, the doors to it opened by your hands.

there was a deep sense of ease in the air then, neither of you were able to stop smiling from it, you didn´t have to say a thing to know what the other was thinking:

this is only the very beginning. I can´t wait to get to know you. all of you.

[legendofmorons]

Written in the stars (forever on loop) Chapter two - Catch my breath (what else can I do?)

Pairing: eventual Poly! Chain x reader, platonic Wind & reader

Series Rating: T

Summary: Day two with the chain has its challenges. Thankfully, Epona and Wind are there to make things better. Four and Sky have a heart to heart while a late night talk with Warriors leaves you with some questions and thoughts.

Warnings: grief, cursing

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know

Previous masterlist. Next

Breakfast is your saving grace in the morning, especially because you need something to do that isn't focusing on everything that happened yesterday.

You sit by Sky again, though Wind sits on your other side.

Sky looks exhuasted, blinking blearily and having to stifle a yawn every so often. He's got puffy eyes... has he been crying? Maybe it was just a bad day...

No one else speaks to you or sits near you, though. There's a tense atmosphere you could cut with a very dull butter knife.

"So, what do you do back home?" Wind asks before stuffing a bite of his food in his mouth.

You smile politely, "I work, I listen to music, I talk to my friends and family. Nothing exciting. What about you?"

"I like to sail a lot." Wind says.

This isn't a surprise. He gives off pirate gremlin energy anyhow. It's good to know it is from a hobby and not just your own interpretation of what is apparently more than a video game.

You smile a little more real this time. "That's good, it's important to have hobbies. Do you live near the sea?"

"You know about the sea!" Wind declares excitedly.

You laugh a little, "Of course I do."

You can feel the way all the others look at you with strange gazes and furrowing brows or outright glares.

You focus your gaze on Wind, blocking out the others.

Wind looks absolutely delighted, though, his grin wide and bright. "No one else but Wild knows. You do, though!"

"I do." You agree easily.

The young teen is adoreable in the excitement that causes his ears to twitch a little.

Sky smiles too, "He's a fan of the sea."

"Maybe we can visit it." You offer.

Wind cheers, beaming at you. "I hope so!"

Time clears his throat to get everyone's attention. The air goes thick again around you.

You turn your gaze to the oldest, wondering yet again why he has the fierce diety marking on only half his face if he has them at all.

"We're going to keep looking for a town today, we need to get our new friends some supplies since they were caught unawares." Time says.

He hasn't looked at you. Most of them haven't looked at you. Not really.

You feel your face heat up a little. Embarrassment floods your being.

If you had known you were going to end up here, you would have prepared more!

"We should also probably see about finding a river or something soon." Warriors adds firmly.

The others agree with both sentiments.

Wind elbows you playfully, "Don't worry, we all got caught unawares at least once. I started my adventure by hitting things with sticks."

The teen gives a wink at the end, like he's telling you a secret.

You laugh, recalling that sequence in Wind Waker. Immediately, you feel guilty simply for having loved and played the games.

Apparently, the world of Hyrule is real.

Oh.

Right.

This is all so bizarre.

You played through what were probably horrible quests and memories for fun. (You didn't know! If you had known - breathe. You remind yourself to breathe.)

Last night's dreams were weird.

Everything is so different

"Don't overthink." Sky chides lightly although, it sounds like it's something he says on autopilot, his face twisting with an unreadable emotion.

Grief, maybe? But worry, too.

"Okay." You manage.

"Twilight, Wild, Wind, Legend, and Sky, you'll all look for a river. Warriors, Four, Hyrule, and I will take (Y/n) and look for a town." Time says.

No!

You don't want to leave Sky and Wind. They are the least tense!

At least you'll be with Four and Hyrule. They are far less intimidating than Time and Warriors.

"Don't worry," Wind whispers to you as he nudges your side lightly. "They're all big softies."

He gives you a dramatic wink.

You crack a weak smile. "Really??"

"Really." Wind assures.

"Thanks." You say softer.

The teen grins at you. He looks pretty eleated in general.

"Alright, when you are ready, we'll head out." Time says to you. He's finally looking at you, but his face is stony.

You acknowledge his words and work on finishing your food.

After you've eaten and everything has been packed up, the groups split up.

You are flanked by four men as you walk. Warriors and Four on either side of you with Time in the back and Hyrule beside him.

None of them talk except to tell you if you're turning. Their eyes never seem to be on you, but you swear they're watching.

The silence is strange. (Some strange subconscious part of you rails against the tense air around you. This is wrong!)

"So... uhm... what's with the portals?" You ask after a good twenty minutes of walking.

This seems like a solid start point. The silence is too much anyway.

The others seem to share a silent conversation around you. None of them look at you.

Warriors looks at you as he answers. "There is a Sahdow opening them and letting lose monsters of different eras."

You nod. That sounds like some Legend of Zelda stuff right there... You should probably stop thinking of this as a video game world.

Four sighs. "Of course we're all here because we're heroes."

"That makes sense... why am I here?" You ask, feeling as if you're in free fall without a parachute as far as information goes.

There's a beat of silence.

The men exchange glances around you, yet another silent converstion exchanging in seconds.

"We don't know." Time says evenly, a measured tone flowing in his voice. His gaze is still too heavy on you, as if he's daring you to do something.

"Okay." You manage.

Four offers you a slightly strained smile. "We'll figure it out."

His smile is wrong. His eyes are wrong. He dosen’t believe in what he says, does he?

"I hope so."

Hyrule hums once. "Are you a hero where you're from? That might make it make sense if you are."

You laugh a little, startled at the notion. "No. No, my life back home is... boring enough."

Four and Warriors both look spooked by your laugh, looking at you with frowns. The latter looks a little angry, too, with pinched brows.

Okay. Maybe it was rude to laugh?

"Oh." Hyrule says.

"Boring can be good." Warriors offers after a moment, face fixing itself into an overly polite mask.

You smile weakly. "I guess so."

"Are you a royal then?" Hyrule asks.

You laugh again. "No. I'm definitely not."

The silence comes back, heavy and awkward. You don't bother trying to break it again.

There's something wrong in the air. You just can't place it. You have barely interacted with any of them!

At least Hyrule and Four just seem to avoid watching you. Or maybe it just feels that way because Warriors and Time won't stop - even if you don't catch them, you can feel it.

What is it with these heroes and the staring problem?

Yeesh.

Hopefully, when you see Wind again, He can lighten the mood.

-------

The trip to town was awkward, stilted, and almost painful. When you're dropped off at an inn to what for the boys to get the others, you are relieved.

You've gotten a travel pack with a place for your bed roll. You've also been given a few spare clothes, which is nice.

You are apparently to share an inn room with someone tonight.

Hopefully, it's Wind or Sky. They haven't glared at you or made you feel unwanted.

You settle on one of two beds, wondering what you have done to earn their cold shoulders. Did you... over step somehow?

Maybe they know about the video games? They aren't self-aware in the game, hopefully?

Nothing makes sense anyway.

There's a knock at the door before someone calls. "Hey, it's just me! We're roommates!"

Wind.

Thank goodness.

The door opens to reveal a grinning Wind.

"Did you have fun?" You ask.

The teen is practically bouncing. "I did! It was great, oh my goodness! Wild and Sky got tangled up in some roots, and we had to finish a mini dungeon!"

"That sounds... busy?"

"It was fun! We got some rupees, too."

"That's good!" You say a bit more cheerily.

The boy grins.

He asks you about your trip, and you just say it was okay, a little awkward, but not horrible.

Dinner is quick, and every time you try to make conversation with anyone but Wind they look pained by the attempt, and it peeters out.

Even Sky seems a little skittish about you during dinner, although his eyes look puffy again. Maybe he's going through something?

You sigh, deciding to go see Epona. Maybe she'll let you pet her?

Epona is at least less scared of you. She just sniffs your hand curiously.

As soon as she sniffs you, she's pressing her face into your hand insistently, as if asking for attention. Who are you to deny her?

She's sweet, at least.

"Such a good girl you are." You coo to Epona sweetly.

She isn't at fault for the tense atmosphere of the boys.

Petting her mane gently is relaxing in ways you hadn't quite expected. She's all but leaning into it, a few soft snorts here and there but otherwise seemingly content to be near you.

"Aw, I wish I had something to give you, sweetheart."

Epona just leans a little more into your touch.

"I'll just keep an eye out. Maybe we can find an apple or something for you."

You can feel a few others watching you, but you don't turn. It's much nicer here with Epona than with the heavy silence and strained attempts at conversation provided by the boys.

Although Wind is certainly picking up some slack there, he deserves some cookies or something.

"How'd you get to be so sweet, pretty girl?" You muse.

It's a nice break from havin to be around anyone. Epona is so gentle and sweet, at least with you. She's happy to let you pet her man and sctach behind her ears gently.

Animals are amazing.

-------

Sky and Four take to their room, both looking forward to getting away from the painful reminder you are. They know it's not your fault, you seem nice, but still...

Grief is funny sometimes.

The moment the door closes, Sky's carefully polite face is falling into twisting grief.

Four just flops himself onto his bed. His head hurts, pounding like a horribly novice out of step marching band is playing their show inside his skull.

It's too much.

Sky just leans against the door, sinking to the floor with his head leaning back.

"Why couldn't they look different?" Sky asks in a shaking whisper.

The question escapes his mouth on accident.

Four turns over, so he's staring up at the ceiling. "I don't know."

Sky dosen’t turn. Instead, he just closes his eyes.

"It's not their fault." Four says, staring at the ceiling.

"No." Sky agrees. "It's not."

"I feel so bad for them." Four manages.

He does.

Against the grief and the anger and the stupid hope that twirl around his lost love, there's sympathy. Sympathy for the unexpected start of an adventure.

Sympathy for the lost look in their eyes at unfamiliarity scripts of hylian writing.

"Goddess... They looked terrified when they first saw me." Sky whispers into the room.

He uses that expression of terror to ground himself. It sounds bad. He knows it sounds bad.

But your terror is proof that you aren't his beloved sunshine.

His sunshine... never looked at him like that. They were never scared of him. Not when they saw him seal the imprisoned. Not when they saw him fight Demise.

They were never scared.

The expression of terror on your face chafes at his soul, but it helps him remember you aren't anyone else but a stranger in a scary situation.

"I think they're scared of Time." Four says.

Sky laughs weakly. "He is intimidating..."

"It's uncanny... They're identical in looks and personality."

"I know."

"How do you do it? I can barely look at them."

"I - can barely look away." Sky laughs, though it almost sounds like crying.

Four hums once, thoughtful mostly. His entire being, all of his colors, struggle under the grief you've stirred up. His empathize for his soul brothers is endless.

His grief is even more vast.

"Goddess. They'd be ashamed of me." Sky admits, "Dancing around a stranger trying to keep everything under wraps and falling apart as soon as the door shuts."

Four narrows his eyes, pushing up to lean on his elbows. His glare is trained on Sky. "Don't sully thier memory by assigning your shame to them."

"What?" Sky swallows, looking at Four with wide eyes.

The hero of skies looks like a kicked puppy, glassy eyes, and shaking form.

Four dosen’t care. Not now. Not when the memory of their soulmate's memory is being treated so poorly.

"They wouldn't be ashamed of you for doing your best in a hard situation. They wouldn't blame you for having complex feelings. Your own guilt shouldn't be projected onto their memory." Four says, or maybe that's Blue and Vio in control for now. Who can tell?

They all miss you. Every piece of him misses you.

"How could they not be?" Sky asks. "I'm messing everything up!"

"Legend hasn't stopped glaring at them, Time just stares silently, I can barely look at them. Sky, you're being more normal about this than anyone!"

"Wind is doing much better."

"Wind hasn't lost them yet. Of course, he's doing better." Four rolls his eyes, pushing down the envy.

"I know. I... Why does he still have them when no one else does?"

"He's fourteen. There's plenty of time for him to get fucked over like the rest of us." Four snaps.

"I didn't mean- I just miss them."

"I know." Four sighs, closing his eyes. "I know... I think we all do."

Silence falls over the room, heavy but not uncomfortable. It's the silence that falls over loved ones when they've had a hard conversation and need to think but still feel safe together.

Four falls back against the bed, trying to remember the way his lover once held him. Perhaps it's self destructive, but when it helps him cope, he dosen’t care.

He can feel the colors, his head is still pounding.

Blue is restless as ever, a rage at the reminder that you're gone. Anger that Sky could speak of your memory so poorly.

Green and Red are trying to calm it all down. They're trying to focus on the better times they had with thier lover.

Vio... is Vio. He's focusing on the facts again.

Like always.

Four focuses on his breathing, pretending that it's them here counting it instead of him.

Who knew trying to keep himself together would be so hard?

-------

You're outside trying to get some air after having the same dream from last night. The argument and lead up to something horrible in the dream is - draining.

The night air is chilly, but it's a nice relief from the stifling feeling of the bed.

Stars above you make out patterns you shouldn't be able to recognize, but you swear you see a set of stars that's supposed to be a harp. It isn't the harp constellation from your world, though. It's different.

You sit on the steps that lead up to the inn porch, leaning against the banister.

There's some sort of spinning string instrument tune stuck in your head, unplayable as the origin of the second and strange harp constellation.

There's the sound of the door opening and closing behind you. Probably another person in search of some air.

"What... are you doing our here?" Asks a man.

You turn, looking over your shoulder to see Warriors, still in his entire outfit, chain mail, and all.

His gaze is heavy, not as bad as Time's but strange as ever.

You sigh, trying to avoid tensing up at the sight of him. "I needed some air... I guess you do, too."

Warriors sighs, "You could say that."

"Don't let me stop you." You say, turning your head back to facing forwards and gazing out at the small town before you.

A lazy night breeze blows across you, ruffling your hair a little.

Warriors is silent behind you, a large presence. He's unmoving.

You're left wondering if he's still there for a moment.

It seems rude to check, though.

How he can be so still is beyond you, but you suppose that's probably a skill he picked up from the war. (A war you're not meant to know about.)

Warriors moves finally, walking until he's beside you. He stands there, unmoving again as he stares up at the stars.

"You shouldn't be out here without a weapon." He says finally.

You glance up at him. "Why? It's a small town."

"Ambushes can happen anytime anywhere."

"I can't say that's something I've had to worry about much." You admit. Which is true, for all the creeps and killers of your world... none of them are literal monsters.

Besides, you don't have a weapon right now. Why would you need one while traveling with the group?

"Count yourself lucky." Warriors tells you, "You should start worrying about it, though. Our group gets ambushed often."

You take a slow breath, trying to decide if you're supposed to respond or not. What do you even say to that?

He looks at you, face carefully neutral in a way that feels vaugley threatened. "You... aren't a fighter, are you?"

"Not the way you guys seem to be."

"You've never fought a war... have you?" Warriors asks in a soft voice.

He sounds- he sounds like your answer is important to this question. He sounds like you have some huge sway over what happens with this answer.

His face is still carefully blank.

"No. I've never fought in a war." You say slowly, trying to make sense of whatever this is.

Warriors let's out a slow, heavy sigh. "I hope it stays that way."

"Me too." You say.

You mean it, too. How could you not? Who hopes to get pulled into a war? Not you.

Moments pass, and thick silence seems to press in on you.

"I'm sorry." You say finally.

Warriors looks at you, face still unnervingly calm.

What life has he led that he's so good at neutral poker faces?

"Why?" He asks you.

That's a great question. Why are you sorry?

There's so many reasons.

You're sorry you played their games and enjoyed them.

You're sorry that you're here and slowing them down.

You're sorry that you came unprepared, and they had to step up.

You're sorry he's lost so much.

"I'm sorry I've been such a pain." You settle on. "I know I slowed you guys down and that you stepped up yesterday to help make sure I'm set up for whatever it is we've all been dragged into."

Warriors sighs while something heavy flashes through his eyes before it disappears. "You don't need to apologize. We weren't going to kick you aside."

"I guess. I'm still sorry."

"Do you know how many times I've heard these kinds of apologies?" He asks.

You shake your head. "No."

He looks up to the sky again. "Too many times. Too many people have told me they're sorry for things they can't control. That they're sorry for me doing something simple."

"Oh."

"Don't waste time or words on things like that." Warriors tells you with a stern look.

You would imagine it's a look he picked up as a captain.

"Okay." You breathe out softly.

"I mean it, (Y/n)." He says, though he sounds far away. It's like he's actually speaking to someone else.

Someone he lost.

"Okay." You say again softer.

-------

Next

[cjsmalley]

Anne Summers:

“What?” Buffy said disbelievingly, sure she had misheard.

Giles polished his glasses harder, “Travers was quite clear; if you don’t take the child, the Council will have no choice but to dispose of her permanently.”

Buffy looked out into her backyard, watching Hope and Spike play a rousing game of chase; with Dawn in the college dorms and Willow and Tara moved into their own apartment, they had the room.

With Danny paying the bills, they had the finances as well.

But another kid? A legit Potential? A half-demon Potential? Hope was only six and just showing her mutant ability consistently, copying everyone around her when allowed.

“What’s this girl’s demon half?” she asked, crossing her arms as she watched her Mate and their daughter play.

“It’s—” Giles made a phlegmy sound before shaking his head, “translates as ‘The-Ones-Who-Feed-On-Emotions’. She’s like a vampire but instead of bloods she eats—”

“Feelings,” Buffy finished shortly, “what feelings, Giles? Happiness? Sadness? Is she part Dementor?”

“Any feelings,” Giles replied, “but, from our research, positive ones directed at her are best for her development. Positive emotions in general are better than negative ones. But she also requires formula and does soil herself.”

Buffy nodded curtly before whistling; Spike left Hope to play by herself and came jogging into the house, “What��s goin’ on?”

Giles explained the situation again.

Spike raised a scarred eyebrow, “Well, Buffy, ‘m game.”

“You really think we can handle another kid?”

“Honestly, Slayer? Didn’t think we could handle one; but we’ve done alright by her, what’s another one. Hope’s in school most of the day anyway.”

“But remember those first few months?” Buffy reminded gently, “if not for our friends we would’ve fallen apart. And Anya and Xander are trying for their own.”

Spike snorted, “Not like I could forget that; demon girl’s too honest sometimes. But we still have the witches and ol’ Rupert. And the whelp needs the practice still if they’re tryin’ fer a sprog. We did alright. An’ ‘sides, could you really live with yourself if they kill a kid an’ you coulda stopped it?”

Buffy sighed; he was right. There really was no choice to be made.

“We need time, to explain this to Hope, to have a Scoobie meeting, to get the gear we need, but we’ll take her,” Buffy told Giles, “tell Travers a week. And if she comes to us injured or anything like that, there’ll be Hell to pay, several of them.”

“Of course, Buffy,” Giles agreed.

Later that night, the Scoobies all gathered around a meal. Buffy stood up, gaining their attentions,

“So, Travers contacted Giles,” Buffy began, to groans, “I know, I know. But he had a…good reason.”

“Are they paying you yet,” Anya questioned.

“No, sadly.”

And then Buffy told them what was happening.

“I thought Mommy and Daddy couldn’t have babies,” Hope spoke up, ‘cause Daddy’s penis doesn’t work right.”

Buffy had decided to be very blunt with her daughter when she asked questions about the human body; blunt but age appropriate. So Hope knew most girls had vaginas and most boys had penises and together they made babies using a special dance with the penis inside the vagina. She also knew that Spike couldn’t help make babies like most boys even though he and Buffy could do the special dance.

“We’re adoptin’, Mite,” Spike replied to her question, “do you ‘member what that means?”

Hope nodded, “It’s when a Mommy and a Daddy make a baby but can’t take care of it so they give it a new Mommy and Daddy. Like me! My original Mommy and Daddy are dead so Uncle Danny brought me to you and Mommy!”

“Very good, Hope,” Giles praised, “now, this little one your parents are adopting is extra special. She’s half demon and could be like Buffy when she grows up.”

“A Slayer?” Hope cocked her head; she knew all about her Mommy and Daddy’s night job, that they fought monsters, “how can she be half-demon and like Mommy?”

“We do not know yet,” Giles answered, “but the Council, you met them when you were younger, they needed to give this girl a new, special Mummy and Daddy so they asked Buffy and Spike. Because of you, really.”

“Me?”

“Well, yes,” Giles said, “they have proven able and willing to handle your abilities so it is hoped that they can handle the girl’s more…unique qualities.”

“Yeah, her vampire powers,” Xander snorted, “doesn’t anyone else find it suspicious that they just happen to have a half-vampire kid for Buffy and Spike?”

“She’s not half-vampire, not really,” Willow shook her head, “she’s an emotion eater. Not a blood-drinker.”

“Still, G-man explained her as an emotional vamp,” Xander argued lightly, “the Powers-that-Be must love these two or something. But, yeah, Buffy, of course we’ll help.”

“So will we.” Tara added for her and Willow.

“I’m in,” Dawn nodded.

And so, plans were made, and necessities were bought and soon a Council flunky dressed as a Social Services Worker was handing over custody of the nearly newborn girl who didn’t have a name.

She was blonde and blue eyed and could easily pass as a Summers child, lack of green eyes notwithstanding.

Spike seemed pensive as he took in the baby without a name before looking up to Buffy, “Slayer, Buffy…could we…perhaps…name her after my mum?”

“Of course,” Buffy agreed before questioning, “what was her name, Spike?”

“Anne…her name was Anne.”

Buffy smiled softly at her Mate and said, “Anne Summers…Annie…yeah, that sounds perfect. Guys,” she turned to their friends, allowing Spike a moment to compose himself, and older daughter, in Willow’s arms, “meet Anne Summers.”

The positive energy that resulted kept Anne fed for days.

Wished Away 9

Tylers meet Phantoms:

“Christ, Mum,” Rose said as she took in how Jackie, Pete, and Tony were dressed, “we’re just meetin’—”

“Royalty!” Jackie squeaked. They were all done up like they were meeting the Queen at Buckingham Palace itself!

“Honestly, Mum, they don’t care,” Rose rolled her eyes, grabbing her mother’s wrist and tugging her through the console room and to the wardrobe room, “I told ya ta dress casually. Let’s just hope the Ol’ Girl has clothes fer ya.”

It took about an hour to get everyone redressed, in things much more casual but still nice, before Rose led them back to the console room.

Jackie was clearly anxious, “Are ya—”

“’m sure, Mum. Danny an’ Sam don’t do formal unless they have ta. Unless you’re an annoying subject or someone threatenin’ war, ya don’t even have ta call ‘em by their titles. They’re just Danny an’ Sam ta family.”

“Lookie what I found,” Jenny bounded from the innards of the TARDIS, holding a tiny bike helmet.

She went to her toddler uncle and put it on him, making sure it fit right, “Landings in the Realms are worse than normal ones. The TARDIS does Her best but the Realms give her…nausea? A headache? She just doesn’t do good.”

“Oh, goody,” Jackie said lowly, hugging a strut for dear life already.

“Let me protect Anthony,” Bad Wolf came out, holding out her arms; without hesitation, Pete handed his son over.

Bad Wolf settled Tony in her arms, against her chest and shoulder, and then spread her feet and crouched slightly, clearly bracing for impact; she stayed steady even as the TARDIS began Her flight.

Everyone else was thrown about the console room, the Doctor and Jenny barely holding on to work the console, but Bad Wolf and Tony did not move an inch.

The landing was rough, just as Jenny said it would be, throwing even the Time Lords to the grated floor before the TARDIS stopped quaking.

Jenny recovered first and stood up, rubbing her shoulder, to peek out the doors, “We’re in the Palace. Uncle Danny and Aunt Sam are waiting…”

Slowly, everyone picked themselves up and Rose reemerged, straightening with some popping from her knees.

Jenny led the procession out, racing to hug a man and a woman, “Uncle Danny, Aunt Sam! How’re you?”

Danny and Sam chuckled and hugged her as one, “Good, doing good. You?”

“Perfect!”

She let go of them to drag Jackie, who was hesitant, forward, “This’s my Gran, Jackie. Mum’s side, duh. Completely human. He’s my step-granddad, Pete, and Mum’s holding my uncle, Tony.”

“Yer Majesties,” Jackie tried to curtsy even though she was in trousers, “an honor ta—”

“Oh, enough,” Sam chuckled, “didn’t they tell you? We don’t do formalities with family.”

“Family?” Jackie’s eyes were wide, “I know Rose said—but—”

“We count Clockwork as family,” Danny explained, “and he’s claimed the Doctor as family. The Doctor and Jenny. Rose’s basically married in by this point. Common-law, you understand. That makes her family our family. Welcome to the Palace, your home in the Infinite Realms.”

“My god,” Pete muttered, somewhat disbelieving.

“Not a god, not yet anyways,” Danny winked.

“Where’s Dani?” Jenny burst out, “Is she still in school?”

Sam grinned, “With Anakin, in the nursery. We let her stay home today.”

“Oh, Gran! Can I introduce Tony to Anakin? Please!” Jenny nearly begged.

“Anakin’s our youngest,” Danny explained kindly, “around Tony’s age, actually. We also have a nanny looking after them, Nanny Clara. He’d be perfectly safe.”

“Well…” Jackie looked to her husband, who nodded, “if you’re sure.”

Jenny cheered and took Tony from Rose, dashing off with him deeper into the Palace.

“Jenny knows the Palace as well as anyone,” Sam assured, “and if she gets lost, she can flag down a servant for help. She’s heading directly for the nursery. It’s the most defensible part of the Palace.

Danny stood up, helping Sam, “C’mon, we can talk over food; stay close, Tylers. Doctor?”

“Rose and I can bring up the rear,” the Doctor agreed, taking Rose’s hand as they began walking.

The Palace was a gothic masterpiece, in a very literal sense, though even Sam had wearied of all the gloom and had sought artists and artwork to fill the halls, soft, plush carpets and tapestries to keep the warmth, glassworks to fill the once barred windows. Statues and busts dotted the hallways, some classical, some avant garde

Masters had given their masterpieces, their magnum opuses; they were paid handsomely of course, in either coin or material.

Oils, watercolors, acrylics, textiles, glass, all created for Her Majesty the Ghost Queen. For His Majesty the Ghost King.

It wasn’t yet a riot of color, nor would it ever be, but it was more alive.

Jackie gasped and the group stopped, turning as one to see what had captured her attention.

“When they said the family was huge…”

Ah, it was the most recent family portrait; all the children were gathered around Danny and Sam, all in formal wear.

“We…sometimes people sell the souls of children to me,” Danny started, causing her and Pete to whip around to him in horror, “I know, it’s horrible, isn’t it? But anyways, we adopt the kids. Only Dani—Danielle—isn’t adopted.”

He pointed out each child and gave their backstory.

“Good Lord, you were young!” Pete said at Damian’s story.

“Old enough to be king,” Danny shrugged helplessly, “it…it wasn’t easy, we had help, so much help, and we made mistakes…”

“All parents do,” Jackie told him softly.

“So we’ve been told,” Sam smiled just as softly, “and we’ve learned and made new ones with each kid.”

Danny coughed and continued to point out kids and tell stories, until all had been covered and then they moved on.

As they neared the dining room, Danielle and Jenny joined them with each holding a toddler.

“Oh my,” Jackie said, taking in the Anakin Skywalker; she knew who he grew up to be, or would have if he had not been adopted.

“We’re hungry, Dad,” Danielle said.

Danny waved them into the dining room where the smaller table was already set for a meal; there were two chairs with booster seats and Jenny and Danielle put Tony and Anakin in them before sitting beside them and helping them get food.

The group chatted over the meal, Jackie and Pete slowly relaxing at how easy going the Royals were, and generally had good cheer.

After the meal was done, Jenny asked, “Do we put their photo up on the family wall now? I know you’ve got me, Dad, and Mum…”

Danny chuckled, “We can, if they’re okay with it.”

“Family wall?” Pete questioned.

“We keep walls of pictures of the extended family,” Sam explained easily, “you know, like Rose, the Doctor, and Jenny. Harry’s and Neville’s parents. Damian’s paternal birth-family. The Royal Portrait is just the immediate royal family. The walls are for everyone and everything else.”

Danny and Sam led the group out of the dining room and down another hallway; the walls were plastered with photographs. Some were professional, most were candid and amateur.

A common camera sat on a small round table; a high-end camera but nothing too expensive or professional.

Danny picked it up, saying, “If Jackie, Pete, and Tony don’t mind—”

Jackie decided it would be a family photograph and dragged the Doctor in; Rose and Jenny came without complaint.

Danny took a set of pictures.

After that was done, it was decided it was time for the Tylers to leave, taking pity on the still disgruntled TARDIS.

They were, however, invited to the next family gathering.

[spacegyaru]

cw: very toxic shidou! also, i'm having a baby fever rn after meeting my bf's nieces sooo. also, they're both 23 here!

toxic! shidou ryusei is the type to make you beg no matter what the circumstances are. whether it's in and out of the bed, if he has the chance to be a menace, he totally would be.

you remember staring back at the two lines that your pregnancy test kits left three weeks after officially breaking up with him. you cursed at yourself upon seeing it.

"ugh fuck," you whispered to yourself, after looking at the white stick you just used. you discovered that you were officially pregnant with your ex-boyfriend, ryusei shidou's baby.

well, the circumstances of the breakup weren't exactly ideal. you loved shidou dearly, but he started becoming a little bit toxic. it all started when you asked to break up with him for the sake of your career, but he refused to— you ended up having make up sex until you forgot about breaking up. after that, whenever you guys start having an argument, he brings up the fact that you almost broke up with him, even to the point of accusing you for cheating— but he wasn't agressive. it was more of a taunt to you, given his smug personality.

eventually, you got sick of it and broke up with him. now, you're in your bathroom, thinking whether you should tell him or not. you sigh, setting down the three tests, and taking a photo of them.

if you're going to be honest, you'd love to have kids— babies to be exact. but you're not sure about who their dad would be. also, you're not sure if your menacing ex would be the ideal man for that. besides, you're broke right now... which means, you'll be needing his help.

so with a little bit of hesitation, you texted him after deleting his contact, and not talking for the past two weeks, sending him a photo of those three tests.

this is the first time he left you on read, and it made your blood boil. you were so mad.

after that, you tossed your phone on the bed. why were you hoping for a good response from shidou anyway? that's like waiting for a shooting star.

until the next night...

you couldn't stop your blood from boiling upon reading this. so you devised a plan to confront. the next day, you were angrily storming in to the sports arena, after his football practice. there's not a lot of people during that hour and he's usually the last person to leave. you entered the locker room, where you met him, with his towel hanging low from his hips. he smirked upon seeing you with an angry expression while approaching him.

"yo y/n—" shidou tried to greet you, but your palm came across his cheek. you slapped him with full of anger.

"you have the guts to greet me with a 'yo' when i just told you that i'm pregnant and you literally ignored me?!" you almost caused a scandal in the locker room, but it's a good thing that there's only the two of you in the whole place.

you thought shidou would argue back, but he didn't. he smirked, ignored you, and just got dressed. all while you waited for his answer. this is shidou's usual trick to provoke you. he's going to be quiet and wear a smug expression, until you get so angry... and eventually, you're gonna find yourself calming down.

"r-ryusei— hey, d-don't ignore me! hey!" you tried chasing him as he almost left while carrying his sports duffel bag, but you blocked his way, almost doing a t-pose. and he laughed upon you doing this. you got so embarrassed and flustered by his reaction.

"you're so funny, y/n." shidou said in a smug voice, "if you want my help, you gotta at least be nice to me, you know? you'll need to take me back to your life.~"

oh hell nah, shidou knows a lot. he knows that child was made by you and him. but of course... he won't give you what you want. not until you beg for it. not until you show him how dependent you are to him.

shidou didn't expect you to give in so fast though. but you had swallow your pride. you badly need his help.

"i-i— don't leave me alone, ryusei. this is your child too. i—" you were having a hard time blocking his way and he's surely having fun watching you chase him like this. "f-fine, i'll play nice and do whatever you want!"

again, for the third time, shidou managed to make himself crawl back in your life again. you could never get rid of this man.

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Vuelve a Mí Pt. III

summary: you and joaquin run into each other...there's only some progress.

pairing: joaquin torres x f!reader

wc: 1,379

contents: 18+/MINORS DNI, angst, pining, longing, a SMIDGE of hope

an: so this series is really taking on a life of its own and will be longer than anticipated bc the angst is just...not going away? i can't control them okay, they're doing whatever the want and i'm just writing it.

vuelve a mí masterrlist

There hasn’t been much contact between you and Joaquin since the night you kissed. He’d texted you that night to make sure you made it home safe and of course you replied.

Every other week or so he would try to check in with you, and sometimes you would answer— other times you would let the messages come, the number growing and growing as you continued to isolate, not just from him but from almost everyone in your life. 

You were going to call him. You were. You’re going to call him when you’re ready, if that time ever comes. You meant what you said, and lying to Joaquin…it’s never been an option. Not when he looks at you with those deeply honest brown eyes. 

You’ve started with less abrasive parts of your old life. 

After weeks of simply walking by it, you return to your favorite cafe. It’s a place you shared not only with Joaquin but also with your family and friends. There’s so much meaning to this simple place that’s a mix of browns and creams and greenery.

As you take the last few steps to the cafe, you send prayers up to the universe, begging that no one from your past will be there. The coast is clear once you make it inside– none of the baristas look familiar and the crowd has certainly changed.

You order what used to be your regular– a dirty chai– forcing yourself to stop changing things. That’s all you’ve done since being back– change and change. You cut your hair, you darkened your style and found a new job despite your company offering you your position back. You were convinced your taste buds had changed, avoiding all the things that were your favorite. The most obvious is that you’d broken up with Joaquin. 

But, as you take the first few sips of your drink, it tastes like it always has. Light, the perfect mix of sweet and spiced. For the first time in two years you feel…normal.

Sucking in a deep breath, you let yourself sink into the feeling of being yourself, the woman before you had crumbled. Your body feels recognizable and new all at the same time. It's good, sitting in this cafe, sipping chai with scone in tow.

It’s so, so good—until it isn’t. 

You would know his voice anywhere. That is something that never changed despite the blip. His voice, the way his hair falls, the shape of his shoulders, the sharpness of his jaw; all of these are things you could forget if you tried. And you had tried, tired of the pain of not being with him.

You go still at the sound of his voice, hoping that he won’t notice you. Daring a glance, you see him at the counter. He must have just finished training– the grey t-shirt he has on clings to his skin, darker in some places than others from sweat. 

You don’t mean to stare, but he’s Joaquin and he’s here. That frozen feeling from when the two of you reached for the same puzzle floods your body and you overwhelmingly feel unlike yourself again. You’re internally chanting at yourself to look away as you watch him pay because if Joaquin were to turn around right now, your eyes would meet. 

Look down. Look down and focus on your scone. 

But it's too late– what you feared would happen does and you’re face to face with Joaquin. There’s several strides and a cafe of people between you but it doesn’t feel that way, not with the intensity of his gaze. Not with the way he makes your heart flutter a million miles a minute. You’re finally able to look away a few moments after your eyes meet, your self preservation finally kicking in.

You start to move, slipping your scone back into its bag, throwing your bag over your shoulder so you can stand. As you do so, Joaquin is already making his way towards you, though his steps aren’t as confident or smooth as you expect them to be. 

“Hi,” He breathes cautiously, hands grasping at the baseball cap in his hands.

“Hi. I was just leaving, you should be here, not me.”

“Querida, that makes no sense. This is your favorite cafe. Plus–”

“I have errands to run anyway, it's not a big deal.”

“I’m not staying– I have to meet Sam for some recon.”

Your heart beat slows a bit where it had quickened. “Oh, um– well…you’ll be careful, right?”

“Always,” He promises sincerely. There’s an uncharacteristically awkward beat before he speaks again. “How have you been?”

“I’m okay. Working on it.”

“Yeah?” It's impossible not to hear the hopeful shift in his tone. 

“That's why I’m here. I wanted to see if…if I could be in places I used to be. Enjoy things that I used to.”

“And?”

“Well, it was going okay…” You say delicately, trailing off. You don’t want to blame him– you truly believe that none of this was his fault but you wouldn’t be nearing an out of body panic attack if he hadn’t showed up.

He tilts his head in confusion, you can practically hear his brain churning to understand and you pray that it doesn’t. Much to your dismay, clarity materializes in those beautifully warm brown eyes. “Then I showed up.”

Your stomach feels heavy. When will you be able to outrun this guilt? Every time you get a head start, every time you believe that it's finally left you alone it rears its ugly head and takes grip of your heart. 

“No, Joaquin, that’s not fair to you.”

“But it's true, isn’t it? You didn’t deny it,” For the first time, there’s some bitterness in his voice, some anger. As you look in his eyes, you see the sadness that’s been rooted there since you returned.

You can’t blame him. You deserve it.

“Yes,” You admit softly, regretting allowing yourself to say it when you hear him sharply inhale. 

“Y’know, querida, maybe you were right. Maybe we just aren’t the people we used to be.” 

You frown at his words, trying to explain it the best you can. “Quino, it's not like I want this. I’m going to call when I’m ready, I meant what I said.”

“You know what Abuela says; you shouldn’t promise things you don’t believe are possible,” He murmurs matter of factly. 

“I… I’m trying. You don’t– have to be so unkind,” You grit out, trying your best to contain the tears that have pooled in your eyes. 

Joaquin realizes that he let his frustration override his patience and love for you once he sees the shine of tears in your eyes. But, just as it was the moment he turned around to face you, it's too late. His words—no matter how much or little truth they hold—feel etched into your brain.

They’re added to the pile that confirms your worst fears. 

You’ll never be the same. You’ll never figure out what’s wrong with you. Never be able to safely love and be loved by Joaquin again.

You shouldn’t have come here. You shouldn’t have thought that things could ever be the same or that some part of who you were had come back with you.

“Querida–” He begins.

“Goodbye, Joaquin,” You say stiffly, attempting to rush past him to make your exit.

His hand grasps yours– firm enough to stop you in your tracks, but gently enough that you can let go if you wish.

You aren’t sure what you want at this moment but you stop, glancing over your shoulder at him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. It's just…frustrating. Quiero que vuelvas,” He squeezes your hand, running a thumb over yours.

You squeeze his hand back, trying to soothe not only him but yourself. “I’m trying, Joaquin. I want me back too. Give me time to find her.” 

"Okay," He agrees, resigned.

“Be careful with Sam.”

“I will. And you too…cuídate.”

You give him a simple nod–not trusting your voice– before you walk towards the door and make your way. Joaquin stays cemented in place, eyes tracing every detail of you that he can just in case his biggest fears come true. But he’ll hold onto hope, he has to.

must be 18+/have your age displayed to be added to the taglist!

joaquin taglist: @magikdarkholme, @plan3t-plut0, @mewmew222, @linnygirl09, @ezhz444, @karmaswitch, @badbishsblog, @moonymeloncholymoney, @glader13, @how2besalty, @happypopcornprincess, @hiireadstuff, @lisiliely, @spider-steve, @giuliahowlett, @nolita-fairytale, @hrlzy, @faretheeoscar, @giuliahowlett, @abriefnirvana, @fanboyswhore9, @sidkneeeee, @sophreakingfunny, @heartbreakgirlism

[haikyu-mp4]

An Olympic medal in pettiness – Oikawa x reader wc 757 – gn!reader, brother!Kageyama

It took your brother a long time to come to terms with the fact that you married Oikawa Toru. The years you spent rekindling your sibling bond with him were worth it, though, and you were happy to have him visit your family in Argentina. After all, your son was becoming a big fan of his uncle, even though he didn’t visit often.

“Uncle T!” the boy squealed, catapulting himself into the setter’s arms the second he had put his bag down in the hallway.

Tobio grabbed him with an oomf and put him on his hip, and the bright look in his eyes was a marvel to witness. “Hey there, Spiderman.”

You gave him a side hug and a simple greeting, asking about his flight and everything, until Oikawa eventually came through the door. He had picked your brother up from the airport and had to park the car before coming inside.

It would be a lie to say that the tension between those two had dissipated after all these years, but at least they were civil and found interesting conversation topics in their different countries’ leagues and eventual international games.

The first day ended with Kageyama heading to bed almost as early as your son after such a long day of travelling. Before bed, he had spent some time learning about little Oikawa, which came with a promise of playing volleyball in the yard the next day.

That morning, you pulled Oikawa out of bed to make breakfast. “You get the eggs,” you commanded, kissing his cheek and continuing to set the table with everything else. “I need you to be especially mindful of my brother today, love.”

He looked at you like you insulted him, pointer finger pushed into his chest. “Me? I’m being an angel!”

You snorted and shook your head. “You’re being nice, but who knows what happens when you get out there. Please remember that our son might want to bond more with Tobio today, and it’s okay if you lose on purpose now and then.” 

“Forgive me if I think he has more to learn from me, I’m just saying.”

Rolling up a kitchen towel with practiced precision, you flicked it to smack his ass with it. You giggled as he glanced angrily between you and the eggs that he had to keep watching so they wouldn’t burn.

“I’ll get you for that!”

At lunch, they were all jittery at the thought of playing later, your son telling all about his training and how he hoped to become a starter when he went to middle school. He also raved about his other uncle, Shoyo, who visited from Brazil once in a while, admitting that the ninja was his favourite player even though he wasn’t a setter.

When the sun had settled a bit lower in the sky, Oikawa and Kageyama made their way outside, one carrying your son and the other a volleyball. You trailed behind them, smiling at the heartwarming scene but slightly worried for what was to come.

“Uncle T, I saw you setting for Sho at the Olympics. You have to teach me how to set like you!”

Oikawa looked at your son in pure betrayal, then at you for some mental support. You held up one fist and lip-synced ‘stay strong’ for dramatic effect.

“Are there any shrimps like him on your team?” Tobio asked, not catching Oikawa’s emotions at all.

“Not really.”

“Then I don’t think your uncle knows anything I can’t teach you,” Oikawa quickly said with a petty smile, not letting Tobio finish his thought. This time, he didn’t turn to you, already aware that he did exactly what he wasn’t supposed to.

Tobio frowned, stopping as they reached the little net. “So that’s how it is.”

Oikawa put your son down and shrugged. “What can I say? One of us won the Olympics, and it wasn’t Ninja Shoyo.”

While they quarrelled, you decided to cheer for your son instead, as he seemed to ignore both of them to go for a spike serve. You clapped excitedly as he hit it like his dad taught him, then cheered even louder when the ball hit Oikawa square in the head.

As the older man stumbled back from the surprise impact, Tobio turned to your son and gave him a thumbs up. “Good power, but that one was definitely out. I’ll teach you.”

Your son had them both wrapped around his finger and would be getting all the coaching he wanted and more, that’s for sure.

masterlist

requested by @toge-maki for my event, anything for you <3 BIG thanks to @cottonlemonade for helping me with the plot!!

[limolib]

Re-blooming

(Alt ending to Wilted lemon trees)

The recruiter x reader

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Warnings; No reader body/race/age descriptions (if any pls lmk), but in my mind there’s an age gap. A little ooc. NO USE OF Y/N, I still don’t refer to the recruiter with a specific name. English is not my first language. Some description of injury.

WC: Just 2k 🤏🏻

Summary; Alt/fluffy ending to wilted lemon trees (for the fluff girliesss). I don’t think this could be read alone tbh :p

A/N: hope you enjoy this cause I wrote it instead of paying attention to my lectures and now I’m hashtag regretting it

He watched through the scope as the car approached his made up end spot. Welcome to the final show. The car you picked out was unassuming, grey and very much a family car but he caught your alias pretty easily. You were speeding down an empty backcountry road, almost at your sweet sweet escape, not on his watch though. He shot the bullet, hitting your tires immediately, causing the car to flip over into a nearby ditch. He abandoned his position, taking his gun with him to ensure the job is done. The wreck caught up in flames, the light from the fire casting a yellow glow onto the surroundings. He approached your position under the turned-over car. Your back was to the ground as your hands were reaching for your gun, but it was too far away, plus he kicked it from your line of sight with his polished shoe. You panted, looking down at your lower body with defeat, the wreckage making it difficult to move. He watched you, so helpless and at his mercy and he couldn’t help but feel a little bad. Just a little.

“Bad time to say that suit looks great on you?” You coughed. “Brings your face out.”

“Get up.” he kicked your side softly, causing you to cough more.

“Way to kick a woman when she’s down.”

The flames from the car had reached your legs, that's for sure, but the fact that you were not crying out in pain right now was concerning.

“Cmon now, don’t give up so easily.” He dropped his weapon, hurrying over to attempt to lift the car a little to give you crawl space. The metal of the door burnt his hands, but he endured, for you. You shimmied out on your elbows and collapsed once more, panting heavily with a bloodied nose from impact. He picked his gun back up and stood over you, feet at your sides with the weapon aimed at your head. Your hands came up slowly in surrender.

“You win.” There was a hint of teasing in your tone, though he was unsure as to why.

His jaw clenched, grip tight on the firearm as he looked into your tired eyes. He needs to do this. Now.

“Just like back in Cairo, huh?” You coughed, causing him to smile a little.

“You and I remember Cairo very differently.”

The memories of that time crawled into his mind involuntarily, especially how the air felt that night. You studied his face from your position on the rough floor, conflicted and hesitant.

“Was this not what you wanted?” You croaked.

He didn’t answer, only kept his gaze trained on your face.

Cairo must’ve left a lasting mark on him.

Your eyes were already getting blurry from a combination of blood loss, the adrenaline wearing off and the newly felt pain.

“Just kill me, babe.” You coughed.

That seemed to do the trick, as he knelt down to smack you on the head with his gun. As you finally succumbed to unconsciousness, you heard a shot ring out, then felt the sharp pain in your abdomen; the final domino in your blacking out spell.

. . .

There was an unfamiliar warmth on your face easing you out of the state you were in. Kind, welcoming, gentle. Your senses began making their way back to you, the sweet birdsong melody engulfing you warmly. There was a waft of fresh air all around, the kind you smell deep in the countryside when the next city isn’t for hours. Then, pain.

So so so much pain, everywhere. At the sensation, your eyes shot open, but they were instantly shot back shut due to the intense light on your pupils. You blinked a few times, willing yourself to beat the force of the sun beaming down on you. When your eyes finally adjusted to lights, you attempted to sit up, wary of the unfamiliarity of the surroundings. It was futile, the pain knocking you immediately back down, a handcuff at your wrist also limiting your movement. You were shackled to the bed. More pain was elicited when you’d attempted to pull on the chain.

“Don’t do that.” You hadn’t even noticed his presence, posted in a dark corner with the light from the window only hitting his lower half. You took a second to take the room in whilst propped up on one arm.

It was a small bedroom with very little indication as to who lived in it before, only a few boxes of belongings strewn about. The floor was a mess, bills and other varieties of papers covering the small carpet. The walls had what you could assume were certificates of achievements adorning them, a wide variety of colours and sizes. By the bed lay a singular teddy bear, brown and innocent, and the only indication of this being a child’s bedroom.

Your eyes made their way back to him, observing as he leaned forward slowly, allowing the sun to hit his blemish-free face. Well, almost blemish free, save for a small scar on the bridge of his nose.

“Kinky” you jiggled the chain.

“You were strongly against any and every form of help I tried to offer you.” He tilted his palm to show a nasty bite mark on it. “You wouldn’t let me stich, sedate or transport you. Or anyone else for that matter. Caused me a lot of trouble.”

He got up slowly from his spot, opening the door by his side and disappearing outside.

You got up as well, the chain being long enough to allow you some movement in the small room. You padded over to the certificates, bare footed and a little cold. They were almost all academic achievements, all dedicated to one-

“Is that your name?” You didn’t have to turn around to feel his presence there behind you.

“Yeah.” His hand came up to your side, grasping your wrist gently to undo the cuff. You couldn’t tear your eyes from his name though, it felt like a gigantic leap forward, like he’d just given you the moon and stars. It was so fitting for him.

“You live here?”

“Used to.”

“And then?”

“You know.”

Growing up, the games, it was a stupid question really, you were just so giddy and so barely able to think straight.

He exited the room wordlessly once more, leaving you to your curious exploration. You lipped over to one of the boxes by the bed, small and unassuming, the outside adorned with little hand drawn hearts and other shapes. Inside, a modest collection of old photos, mostly of him and his father. Camping, fishing, playing, bathing. There were few where his mother made appearances in, mostly just him and his dad. He looked so eerily normal, smiles wide and carefree like he wouldn’t grow up to be a murderer. You must’ve spent a good amount of time flipping through each photograph, soaking in the normalcy they held. The smell of food began filling your senses, alerting you of your previously quiet hunger. You limped over slowly to the door, then out through the hallways to where you could hear some plates and pans clinking. There he was, back to you over the small stovetop cooking what you could assume was a steak. He wore a plain white shirt, a little loose on his form, paired with a pair of plaid pants.

He’s in his pyjamas. You held back a giggle by biting your lip.

You still don’t know why he brought you here, or why he hadn’t killed you yet.

“Is that the only meal you know how to make?”

“You know the answer to that. It’s just convenient. And you need to restore your iron.”

He turned around, revealing a very pretty blue apron with lemons on it. He plated the tempting meal and took the apron off, sitting down on the small kitchen table, opening the seat by his side for you to take. You descended onto the chair slowly, wincing at the pain from your side. He dug into his plate with his usual class, but your curiosity prevented you from eating anything, the questions on your mind already too filling.

“What’s the plan here? Wine, dine and end my bloodline?”

He dropped the utensils, a hand coming up to rub his eyes at your stupid play on words. There was a small smile on his lips when he looked back up at you.

“No. You’re already dead.”

You exaggerate a look around the place, eyes wide and breath loud. “Spooky.”

He gave you a tired look and sighed.

“I regret not killing you.”

“You don’t mean that”

“I do, actually.”

He turned back to his meal, mentally preparing himself for what looks to be a lifetime of lame jokes.

“I faked it all. The body, the death. Had to shoot you for authenticity and all. Also because the bullet had your name so I didn’t want to waste it.”

You poked his side, earning no reaction from him.

“They didn’t check after me, loyalty pays off I guess.”

“Where are we?”

“About an hour drive out of Seoul, it’s cozy here. Has its charm. I can keep you safe and keep my job at the same time.”

“Oh? So when you’re out playing villain, what do I do? I’m not your little housewife.” There was a small smile in your words.

“Is that so bad? Weren’t you the one who wanted white picket fences and wrap-around porches?”

“You wanted it too, hotshot. Or else you wouldn't’ve kept me alive.”

He slumped back, hands dropping the utensils once again, turning his face to look at you.

“Must you be difficult?” He sighed.

Your hand came up to fix his slightly disheveled hair out of his face. “You’re just so entertaining.”

His eyes were on the hand he had on the table now, watching as he cracked knuckle after knuckle, the other hand at his side. He pushed his tongue out into his cheek, taking a few deep breaths to try to cool his anger. His throat bobbed heavily before he pushed up suddenly from his spot, taking a few short strides to the outside. You irritated him endlessly, making his feelings for you all the more infuriating. You followed him a minute later, finding him leaning on the house front, one leg over the other as he watched the empty field opposite. He had his hands in his pockets, jaw clenched tightly as he tapped his head on the wall gently. You brought your hand up to touch his bare bicep, causing him to sigh and shut his eyes, his shoulders relaxing. In a swift movement, he brought your form flush into his, engulfing you in his embrace, a hand coming up to press your head into him, scratching at your scalp a little.

“I risked a lot to get you here I-” he let out a shaky breath. “You need to work with me to keep our peace. Seoul isn’t safe right now, it won’t be for a while, for you anyway. I know it’s a huge contrast, but…we can figure it out when you’re feeling better, okay?”

So he got it all, the job, the girl, the looks. You…weren’t mad, nodding into him.

He used his hand to angle your face to look into his.

He kissed you then, it was new. Unsure and a little innocent, unfitting for who either of you were. You smiled against his lips, pulling away to look at him once more. His arm found your waist, the other coming up to interlace with yours. You swayed gently to no music, moving in tandem to the sound of nothing. It was mostly him, though, being a surprisingly great dancer. He hummed a soft song you were unfamiliar with, eyes boring into yours somberly .

I won’t say I’m in love.

[gingerteafairy]

THE GREAT GUIDE FOR JAILBIRDS IN LOVE

warren lipka x fem!reader part one here

summary: Warren weren't that prepared for the silly little thing called love, learing that, sometimes, you really need to fight for it (literally).

tags n warnings: highly suggestive (can be categorized as smut, but it's too small for that), language, fights, blood, angst, some sensitive topics. word count: 13k

Rule #5: Appearances Can Be Deceiving

Warren adjusted his tie around his neck once more, huffing as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He absolutely hated this. Ties, polished shoes, neatly pressed shirts... If it were up to him, he would’ve shown up in ripped jeans and an old t-shirt. Or better yet, naked—if that weren’t illegal. But there he was, in a freshly ironed blazer and expensive cologne.

And why?

Because of you.

You, who made him spend beyond his budget on a small bottle of sophisticated perfume. You, who convinced him to actually wash his hair, tying it back into a decent ponytail. You, who made him use the fancy deodorant he reserved for special occasions. His shaved face, smooth as a baby’s skin. You, who made every bit of effort feel worth it.

“Yeah. Okay.” Warren took a deep breath, snapped his fingers, and lightly slapped his own face. “Oh, almost forgot.”

He rushed out of the room, the sound of his shoes echoing as he hurried to the living room. On the table, a narrow vase held a bouquet of red tulips, a folded note tucked between the petals. His name, written in his messy handwriting, made a smile involuntarily tug at his lips. He picked up the flowers gently, inhaling their scent, blinking a few times as if it brought him back to reality.

“Alright. Let’s do this.”

He left an hour early, driving with an uncommon focus, determined that nothing—traffic, long traffic lights, or bad luck—would ruin this evening.

A familiar tune started playing on the radio, and without thinking, he began singing along.

“Close your eyes, give me your haaaand… Do you feel my heart beating? Do you understaaaaand?”

He was so caught up in the excitement that he didn’t even notice the strange look from a man in the car next to him, stopped at the red light. When he did, Warren furrowed his brow and slapped the side of his own car.

“What’s your problem?”

The man frowned, rolled up his window, and drove off when the light turned green.

“Coward.” Warren rolled his eyes and kept singing, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel. “Am I only dreaming aaaaa… It’s eternal flaaaame.”

The tires slid smoothly along the road until, finally, his house came into view. Warren took a deep breath, turned off the radio, and replaced it with the CD he’d burned earlier that afternoon—but decided to keep it silent.

Before getting out of the car, he glanced in the rearview mirror. He ran a hand through his hair, made sure his beard was still in place, adjusted his collar, and cracked his neck to release the tension.

“It’s going to be fine.” He whispered to himself.

Then, he stepped out before his nerves could talk him into turning back.

He walked with determined steps to the door, straightening his posture. When the door opened, the sight in front of him stole all the air from his lungs.

You looked stunning.

The silk dress hugged your curves just right, elegant without being over the top. Your makeup accentuated every contour of your face, the sparkle in your eyes, the soft lipstick. Every detail contributed to the perfect image that Warren couldn’t stop admiring.

“My God…” He swallowed hard, blinking several times, making sure he wasn’t dreaming. “You’re…”

The word vanished from his throat.

“You’re… amazing.”

You smiled, blushing slightly as you adjusted the strap of your dress.

“Thank you.”

Warren blinked, as if returning to reality, and quickly extended the bouquet toward you.

“Oh! These are for you.”

“For me?” Your smile widened as you took the flowers, examining them with affection.

“I hope you like them…” He murmured, a little shy, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to hold back the grin that kept wanting to break free. You grabbed the small note tucked between the flowers, your name written on it in his handwriting.

“Hey, don’t open it yet.” Warren’s voice came out hurriedly, and he gestured with his hands as if trying to stop your movement in midair. “Wait until I leave, please.”

“Why?” You raised an eyebrow, pretending to open it.

“No… it’s just…” He took a deep breath, shoved his hands in his pockets, and stared at the ground. “I’m embarrassed, that’s all.”

You laughed softly.

“You’re not embarrassed to kiss me in front of my house, but you’re shy about a little note?”

“It’s different, okay?” He grumbled, looking at you from under his lashes. “So… shall we go?”

You nodded, closing the door behind you. He extended his arm, and you slipped yours around his as you both walked to the car.

When they arrived, he opened the passenger door for you, tilting his head slightly in a chivalrous gesture.

“Wow, such a gentleman.” You teased as you got into the car.

“I always do this.” He rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue before walking around the car and sitting in the driver’s seat.

He turned the key in the ignition, and before starting the engine, he looked at you with a mischievous grin.

“Did I ever tell you that you're the most beautiful thing in the world?”

Your face flushed, and an enormous smile spread across your face before you could even reply.

“No.”

“Well, let me tell you now. You look absolutely wonderful tonight.” He flirted shamelessly, not taking his eyes off you as he pressed the button on the radio.

The soft intro of Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton began to play.

You widened your eyes, surprised by the coincidence.

“No way, Warren.” You laughed, bringing a hand to your face. “Oh my God!”

“Casablanca, my dear.” He winked and started the car.

The music filled the car’s interior, and you let yourself sway gently to the rhythm of the melody. Warren, at the wheel, hummed along, occasionally pulling faces and pretending to play air guitar, making you laugh every time.

The CD playing was made specially for tonight. Warren had burned it earlier that afternoon, carefully selecting each track, though you might never know that little detail.

Or maybe, in a few years, he would tell you.

But not now.

Now, he just wanted to enjoy every second of this moment by your side.

The venue was packed, and that was clear as soon as they pulled into the parking lot. Cars lined every available space, and an excited buzz could be heard coming from inside the club, as if the very air was charged with festive energy.

Warren parked and, before even turning off the engine, he turned to you with a soft smile.

“Ready?”

You nodded, adjusting your dress over your legs.

He got out of the car and walked around to your side, opening the door with a gentleman’s flourish. He extended his hand to you, firm and steady, his fingers warm against the cool night air. You took his hand, letting him help you out with grace, avoiding any misstep in your high heels.

Warren didn’t immediately let go of your hand. He kept his fingers intertwined with yours as you walked toward the club’s entrance. The red carpet led up to the main door, where a tall, serious-looking security guard stood waiting to check invitations.

He handed over the passes, and without delay, the security guard allowed them through. Once inside, a subtle mix of floral scents and fresh food enveloped you both. The hall was beautifully decorated, with sparkling chandeliers casting golden light across the room. There were snack tables strategically placed, while waiters moved around offering glasses of champagne. Background music played softly, blending with the hum of lively conversations.

Warren leaned in slightly toward your ear, his voice low but laced with genuine concern.

“Are you comfortable with all this?”

The warmth of his breath brushed your skin, sending a slight shiver through you.

“Yeah… it’s fine.” You reassured him, glancing around. Some familiar faces appeared, while others were just blurred figures in the crowd.

He didn’t seem entirely convinced. His hand gently slid to your bare back, the tips of his fingers caressing you softly, discreetly.

“If you want to leave, you know you can tell me.” The firmness in his voice was comforting, like a silent promise.

“Thank you, Warren.” You smiled, biting your lip lightly as you felt his almost protective touch.

His response came in the form of a gesture: his hand slid to your waist, fingers tightening slightly, as if reaffirming that he was there for whatever you needed.

“Hey, sweetheart! How are you?”

The sweet yet vibrant voice made you turn. A well-dressed older woman approached with a warm smile, the gleam in her eyes revealing genuine affection.

“Mrs. Beavers!” You exclaimed, opening your arms to welcome the woman's gentle embrace. “How are you? It’s been such a long time.”

Warren took a subtle step back, observing the interaction with curiosity.

“I’m doing great, darling.” Elizabeth Beavers pulled away slightly, holding your hands with warmth. “You look radiant tonight. More beautiful than the crystals in these chandeliers, and trust me, we paid a fortune for those.”

You smiled, feeling your face warm at the compliment. “Thank you. And you, Mrs. Beavers—you're still pure luxury and elegance.”

Elizabeth laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“You’re quite the charmer.” She teased, giving your hand a light, affectionate pat. “But call me Elizabeth, you know I feel ancient when you call me Mrs.”

She then shifted her attention to Warren, appraising him with a long, discerning gaze.

“And who’s this handsome young man by your side? Your boyfriend?”

Warren, who had been silently observing until now, straightened up and extended his hand casually.

“Warren Lipka.” He said with a half-smile, sensing that Mrs. Beavers posed no threat.

“An exotic name for such a charming man.” Elizabeth quipped, winking her green eyes. You wondered how someone as sweet as her had ended up with a son like Daniel. They didn’t even seem related, much less mother and child. “And where’s Luke? He must be growing up fast.”

“At a friend’s house. They’re playing camping.” You responded, watching Elizabeth nod in approval.

“How wonderful.” She smiled, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “You should swing by my place to pick up your gift later; I’ve got a little surprise for you, too.”

You laughed, already imagining what it could be.

“My dear boy,” Elizabeth continued, turning her attention back to Warren with a fond look. “Did you know this lovely lady was the most beautiful girl in school when she was 17?”

“Really?” Warren raised an eyebrow, a smile beginning to form on his lips. His hand returned to your waist, pulling you gently closer.

“Yes! The prettiest of them all.” Elizabeth sighed dramatically, fanning herself with a lace handkerchief. “And when I saw how sweet she was… Oh my, I nearly disinherited the useless Daniel just to have her as my daughter.”

Warren chuckled, enjoying the conversation more and more.

“And it looks like her little party girl is all dull and dreary,” Elizabeth added, rolling her eyes.

“Oh, Elizabeth, you’re being harsh.” You teased, laughing as you leaned in closer to Warren, settling against him in a side hug.

“My dear, she’s awful, dreadful.” Elizabeth shot a conspiratorial look. “If she ever dreamt Daniel had a kid with someone else, I’m sure she’d cancel the wedding.”

Warren, who had just been following the conversation up until now, furrowed his brow in confusion and made a vague gesture with his hand.

“Wait… she doesn’t know that they…?”

“Of course not, darling.” Elizabeth made a face of boredom. “You think he’s going to tell that airhead he had a life before her? Not a chance!”

Warren turned slightly to face you, leaning in to murmur in your ear.“Can I go beat him up now?”

You laughed, covering your mouth to stifle the sound.“No.” You whispered back, trying to hold back your laughter before returning to the conversation.

“Oh my God! I can’t believe it’s really you!”

The excited voice made you turn instantly, only to be pulled into a tight embrace. The familiar scent of floral perfume surrounded you, and even before seeing her face, you already knew who it was.

“Claire! Oh my God, it’s been forever!”

The hug was strong, almost overwhelming, but completely filled with affection. Claire pulled away just enough to hold your arms, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she took in your appearance from head to toe.

“You look stunning!” She exclaimed, clapping her hands excitedly before casting a playful glance to the side. “And who’s this, huh?”

The mischievous tone made you smile even before you could respond.

“This is Warren. He’s with me tonight.”

Warren gave a small nod, his eyes quickly scanning Claire before returning his gaze to you.

“Hmmm, bad boy vibe.” She teased, laughing, and you had to hold back a laugh too. After all, he was a bad boy, in a way.

“I get a little crazy with this, you know.” You said, winking at Warren before turning your attention back to Claire.

Before Claire could reply, Elizabeth rejoined the conversation, hooking her arm around Claire’s with a motherly smile.

“Claire, darling. We were just talking about Honey.”

The expression on Claire’s face shifted instantly, the laughter vanishing as pure disdain filled her gaze.

“That one’s even dumber than Dan.” She spat, tossing her long blonde hair back with an exaggerated motion. “The bitch said I use hydrogen peroxide to lighten my hair. Well, she’s the one who needs it to clean her rotten soul.”

“Claire!” Elizabeth scolded, furrowing her brows.

“Oh, Mom, stop. I know you were saying the worst things about that air head.” Claire crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow.

Elizabeth sighed, rolling her eyes with amusement.

“Anyway, folks. I’ve gotta go. My boy’s waiting for me. My hot nerd is finally on my hands” Claire said, sending you one last knowing look.

“Tell me all the details later.” You teased, laughing.

“The normal ones or the hot ones?” She shot back, grinning slyly. “You know I can't stop talking about my love life, sunshine. You’re the only one who can match my freak.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing, and Claire blew a kiss before disappearing into the crowd.

“But Warren,” Elizabeth turned back to him with a playful tone, “If there’s one thing time has done for this girl, it’s made her even more beautiful.”

She pointed to you, a mischievous smile curling on her lips.

Warren looked at you for a moment longer than necessary, as if absorbing every detail of your face before responding.

“You seem like a good man.” Elizabeth continued, her eyes evaluating him. “Can I rest easy?”

He let out a short laugh, tilting his head slightly. “If it’s up to me, you can sleep soundly.”

“Brilliant.” Elizabeth smiled, clearly pleased with his response. “Now, excuse me, I need to speak with Denver.”

She kissed you quickly on the cheek before heading to a nearby table where an elegant man waited.

Warren followed her movement, and upon seeing her greet the man with a kiss on the lips, he furrowed his brow.

“Oh… that’s Denver.” His curious gaze landed on you. “Don’t you think old couples kissing is kinda gross in a cute way?”

You simply smiled, watching them together. “Thirty years married. Can you believe it?”

Warren whistled lowly, shaking his head. “Seems almost unreal.” He mused, then turned his attention back to you. “Where do you want to sit?”

You scanned the room for a moment before pointing to a table further away from the bustle.

“Hmmm… how about over there?”

“Perfect.”

His smile was genuine before he leaned in to place a soft kiss on your forehead. That simple gesture made your chest warm.

When you reached the table, Warren pulled a chair out for you, ensuring you were comfortable before gently pushing it back in place.

“Would you like a drink?” He asked, already scanning the room for the bar.

“Sure. Whatever they have. I trust your judgment.”

He raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“That’s dangerous.”

You just laughed and shook your head, watching him walk away toward the bar. While you waited, you couldn’t help but watch Warren for a few seconds, admiring the way he walked with such confidence. His hair perfectly tied back in a ponytail, the sleeves of his jacket fitted just right, subtly revealing the hidden strength in his forearms.

Yes, you definitely trusted his judgment.

You rested your chin on your hand, your eyes following Warren as he approached the drinks table. He seemed lost in the vast array of options, furrowing his brow as he scrutinized the machines. His nose wrinkled slightly in concentration before he pressed a button – and immediately, liquid spilled over the edge of the glass.

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, shaking your head.

“Oh, darling. You never learn, do you?”

The unexpected voice sounded far too close to your ear. Your body stiffened instantly, a chill running down your spine.

Daniel.

You turned your face and came face-to-face with him, his breath hot and laced with false sweetness brushing against your skin.

“Sorry… did I scare you?”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you quickly composed your expression.

“No.” You coughed, subtly shifting your chair back with a calculated movement. “What were you saying?”

“About your boyfriend.”

Daniel’s smile was sharp, predatory. He crossed his arms, eyes darting between you and Warren, who was still fumbling with the drinks machine.

“I’ve done some research on him.”

Your jaw tightened. You kept your posture firm, but your shoulders instinctively tensed.

“And what does that have to do with your life?” Your voice came out cutting, harsh. You stood up, your body automatically adopting a defensive stance.

Daniel chuckled lowly, tilting his head to the side as if amused by your reaction.

“You always surprise me, doll. It was one of my favorite things about you.” He took a step forward, his hand reaching toward your face. You caught the movement before your instincts could even react – and you stepped back.

“Enough talk, Daniel.”

Your hand rose instinctively, slapping his with a firm strike. The sharp sound echoed between the two of you.

Daniel laughed. A low, drawn-out laugh. He glanced at his now slightly reddened hand and shook his head, as though genuinely impressed.

“Got some strength, huh?” He lifted his eyes to yours, a twisted glint in them. “They say bad company corrupts good manners.”

Your blood boiled. Your breath quickened. You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes.

“What did you say?”

Your voice came out louder than expected. The buzz of the room quieted, and like a domino effect, people began to notice the tension between you two.

Daniel saw it. And he reveled in it.

He grinned, leaning dangerously close to your ear.

“Prisoners really cause some serious damage, huh?”

Shock ran through your body like a jolt of electricity. Your stomach dropped instantly, as if the ground had disappeared beneath your feet. Without thinking, you shoved Daniel hard, feeling the tension burst from within you. He stumbled backward, his feet sliding on the floor, but, surprisingly, didn’t lose his balance. Instead, he let out a loud, cruel laugh, as if it were just a game to him.

“What was that?”

Warren’s deep voice cut through the air like a sharp blade, penetrating. His expression was loaded with controlled fury, his eyes fixed on Daniel with an intensity that seemed capable of piercing through anything in its path.

You blinked, your heart pounding as if you had just run a marathon. Your gaze quickly scanned the room, trying to anchor yourself to something familiar, until your eyes found Warren’s. He was by your side now, the forgotten glass on the table, his jaw set, the muscles in his face clenched in a tense expression. The silence between you two was thick, like a bomb about to explode.

“What was that?” Warren repeated, his voice now lower, but the threat in his words was palpable, like a blade ready to cut.

On the other hand, Daniel, with a fake smile plastered on his face.

"She's so good when she's like this, isn't she?" His voice dripped with provocation.

Before you could react, Daniel casually reached out and brushed a hand over Warren's shoulder, as if brushing invisible dust off his suit.

"She only likes the ones who are at the bottom of the barrel. Such a masochist. Delicious in bed."

Warren froze.

The air grew heavy. You felt his body stiffen, the muscles in his jaw tightening. His gaze, once sharp, became lethal.

"What did you say, you motherfucking piece of shit?" His voice was low, hoarse, almost a hiss. He took a step forward.

"Did you learn that vocabulary in life or in prison, mate?" Daniel scoffed, his eyes swiping up and down Warren's body with calculated contempt. Warren's blood boiled. Without hesitation, he grabbed the collar of Daniel's suit, pulling him roughly closer. 

"Say that again if you dare." Daniel laughed. An irritating, petulant laugh that only served to inflame Warren's fury even more. 

"Looks like not much has changed since then." He shoved Warren hard, smoothing his jacket as if to erase his touch. Then he leaned forward slightly, his voice low and venomous. "Enjoy your little friend while you're at it. She'll have a baby with you when you start to get on with life." Just like he did to me and that little freak of yours." 

That was the last straw. Warren's punch landed squarely on Daniel. The impact was sharp, brutal. Daniel stumbled backwards and fell to the ground, clutching his face with a groan of pain. 

"Shit!" He yelled, pulling his hand away to see the blood running down his nose. 

"Warren, no!" You ran to him, but Warren was already blinded by rage, climbing on top of Daniel to throw another punch. 

The guests around you froze, some murmuring in shock, others watching the scene without being able to look away. Elizabeth clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide, and you saw, in that instant, her heart breaking into pieces. Your own chest tightened—not for Daniel, but for her. Despite everything, he was still your son. Denver looked away, hiding his face in his hands, unable to watch. 

"Come here, honey." Claire pulled you by the arm, pulling you away from the fight that was unfolding. in an increasingly bloody manner. "You'll end up hurting yourself if you get in the way."

His body shook, blood pounding loudly in his ears. "Say that again." Warren's voice was a growl as he grabbed Daniel's collar, pushing his head against the floor. "Say it, you fucking bastard. Say on my fucking face." 

"Security!" Daniel screamed, twisting to try to gain control of the situation and landing a blow on Warren. The impact made a cut open at the corner of his mouth. Warren laughed. A harsh, almost animalistic laugh. 

"Even Luke can be stronger than you." 

The name hit Daniel like an invisible blow. His face contorted for an instant, but he quickly disguised it with a growl of rage. 

"You bastard!" 

He raised his fist, but Warren was faster, spinning and immobilizing him again. Seconds later, two security guards grabbed Warren, pulling him back. Two others grabbed Daniel, forcibly separating them and taking them to opposite corners.

"Let me go! Let me go." Warren growled, pulling away with a sudden movement. He ran his hand over his face, wiping the blood from the cut. "I'm going to kill you." "I'm going to press charges against you, you piece of shit." Daniel spat the words, trying to free himself from the security guards' grip. His face was red with fury and humiliation. "You're going to jail again!"

The crack of the slap echoed through the room.

You grabbed the collar of Daniel's shirt, pulling him closer, your eyes fixed on his.

"If you tell the police, I'll tell your fiancée what you said when you abandoned our son."

The color drained from Daniel's face.

"You’re not that brave."

He tried to laugh, but his eyes wavered. You saw the exact moment he realized that, yes, you would have the courage.

"I doubt she knows that." Your voice was cold, cutting. "And I don't think you want to ruin the wedding before it even starts the dollhouse acting to hide the jerk you are."

Daniel tensed, the muscles in his jaw tightening.

"Fine." He huffed, pulling away from the security guards and massaging his arms. "Fine. Fuck, okay. I won’t call the cops."

"Fine." You pushed him away one last time before turning to Warren and taking his hand. "But no visiting Luke."

You leaned forward slightly, staring at Daniel with a look of pure ice.

"You don't exist to him."

Daniel opened his mouth to retort, but Warren, still breathing heavily, cut him off.

"Wow, that was hot" He grunted without thinking, his eyes sliding up and down you, appreciating the fire in your eyes.

"Not now, Warren." You grunted back, forcing a brave face, trying not to laugh at the gravity of the situation. "You're dead to me and Luke, Daniel."

You took a step back, lifting your chin.

"Act like it."

"But—"

"Whoa, dead men can't talk." Warren snapped his fingers, interrupting Daniel with a mock-casual tone.

"What?"

"Quiet."

"You're—"

"How can you talk with all that dirt on your face?"

"Bro!"

"Rest in peace." Warren made the sign of the cross before raising his middle finger at Daniel. "In hell."

The entire room was silent for a second, until a small group of youngsters burst into applause and muffled laughter. The distraught parents tried to silence them, but Warren spun on his heel, spreading even more chaos.

"Censorship!" he shouted, raising his arms theatrically. 

"Warren!" You laughed, pulling him by the arm as the first drops of rain fell outside.

Without even looking back, you focused on the only thing that really mattered at that moment.

Warren laughing.

Free.

Turning back to the party just to give the middle finger to anyone who dared to exist.

He got into the car, the smile still dancing on his lips, patiently waiting for you to settle in next to him before starting the engine.

The rain began to thicken.

But you didn't care.

Because, that night, you left there the same way you came in.

Together.

"Where to?"

Warren's voice came low, still charged with adrenaline, as he got rid of his damp suit and tossed it carelessly into the backseat. His hair stuck to his face, messed up by the rain and the fight, and he brushed it away with a quick movement of his hand.

"My house." You replied, trying to fix your hair in the car mirror. “As soon as possible.” 

Without taking his eyes off the road, Warren felt around in the backseat, grabbing a random rag and throwing it to you. 

“Thanks.” 

“You’re very welcome.” His playful tone made you smile. 

Without warning, he slammed his foot on the accelerator, making the tires screech against the wet asphalt. The horn honked loudly as he pulled out of the parking lot. “Screw all of you!” 

“That’s it! Screw you!” You laughed, leaning your face out the window, feeling the cold wind and light rain against your skin before shrinking back into the car. Your heart was still beating fast. Warren laughed too, but this time with a certain nervousness, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “What did we do?” 

“I’m so fucking screwed.” He let out a loud sigh. “I’m going to jail, aren’t I?”

“You won’t.” You patted his shoulder, feeling the tension in his muscles. “Trust me.”

He glanced quickly at you before turning his attention back to the road.

“Daniel doesn’t even have the courage to admit to his own fiancée that he has a son.”

“Coward.” Warren snorted.

The car was silent for a moment, only the sound of the engine and the rain filling the space. Then, a smile played on his lips.

“And what was that, girl?” He ran his tongue over the corner of his mouth, still feeling the metallic taste of his own blood. “Wow. I got goosebumps all over.”

He let out a short laugh, shaking his head as if he still couldn’t believe what had just happened.

“I’m telling you, you have the stereotype of a criminal.”

You leaned slightly towards him, lowering your voice.

“Yeah?” Your hand slid along the back of his seat, your fingers lightly brushing against the warm nape of his neck. “What are you going to do with that?”

Warren’s laughter died there.

He turned his head to you, his eyes dark in the dim light of the dashboard. He bit his lip, the muscles in his jaw tensing. Your innocent, shy eyes tried to hide it, but he knew. He knew exactly what was going through your mind. 

“This car is going to stop.” His voice came in a thick whisper. “And now.” 

Warren turned the steering wheel with a firm movement, throwing the car onto the shoulder of the highway. 

“Hurry, darling?” You laughed, feeling your own body heat up as he pulled the handbrake and parked in a darker area, away from the traffic. 

Warren leaned towards you, his hands sliding to unbuckle your seatbelt. His eyes burned with barely contained desire. 

“You have no idea how much I’ve been holding back.” The last thing you felt before you gave in completely was the heat of his hands pulling you into an urgent, hungry kiss.

You purred and took off your seatbelt, forcing your body onto Warren’s lap. He pulled the lever back so you could fit without moving the steering wheel, steadying his hands on your body when the seat reached its position. Straddling your legs on either side of Warren’s waist, you found yourself free to continue the kiss, holding his face in your hands.

Warren palmed your thighs, pulling your dress up so he could touch them directly, marking the spot with his firm fingers. He lifted the fabric once more so he could touch your bum, pulling the elastic of your panties so you could feel the softness of the flesh. You moved forward, brushing against the tent that formed in Warren’s dress trousers, panting into the kiss. You deepened, hungry for him: biting, sucking, licking. Whatever you were entitled to and Warren could give you, you took.

“Oh, shit.” You groaned, feeling the metallic taste in your mouth, remembering Warren’s cut. “I’m hurting you, aren’t I?”

“Fuck that bruise.” He grumbled, scraping his nails across your skin, pulling you closer. “You’re hotter than that.”

“You look so attractive with that bruise.” You whispered, kissing his mouth more calmly.

“Hmmmm, I think I’m gonna start hurting myself more.” He chuckled softly into your face, capturing your lower lip in a hickey. He noticed the small red stain of his blood on your lip, touching it with his thumb. “You look delicious with blood on your mouth. I’d love to visit you in jail if you killed Daniel.”

“Would you? And what would you do to me there?” You flirted, moving closer, shaking your hips back and forth. Warren gasped, throwing his head back, trying to maintain control with his hands on your hips.

“I was going to exercise my right to come and go, come and go, come and go.” He murmured hoarsely, pulling you closer to brush your lips against his. “Damn, I almost came imagining you killing the guy.” He laughed, breaking the kiss.

“You’re horrible, Warren. Look at that.” You laughed in disbelief, resting your hands on his shoulders.

“That’s not even the worst part.”

He began, his hands going up your back to slide the zipper halfway down, grabbing the straps of your dress to slide them down your arms, catching a glimpse of your breasts that he had fantasized about so many nights.

“The first thing that caught my attention about you after your smile was your hips.”

“Really?” You gasped, feeling his hand lightly support the weight of your breasts in his palms. “Why?”

“Because women look really hot with that littl fat on their hips after having a baby.” He finished with a straight face, making you laugh out loud. “So, I kind of already suspected that the kid was your son because of your ass.”

“You’re a terrible person, Warren.” You spoke about his lips, stealing a slow and lingering kiss, massaging his lower lip with your tongue.

He licked his lips and went to your ear, biting the lobe before whispering. “And you love it.”

“You’re a bad influence on me.” You reciprocated in the same tone, closing your eyes to feel him distribute slow kisses on your neck, giving a long, slow lick to your throat.

“And I’m gonna influence you to fuck with me in this car right now.”

Soon his strong arms wrapped around your back, pulling you closer. Strong, intense, passionate. That was Warren’s description of your body, of kissing you, of biting you, of hearing you moan, of having you completely. And you had him in that old car, now, so special to you.

Rule #6: Haste is the enemy of perfectionYou had convinced Warren to stay a little longer at your house after all the chaos that had unfolded. The atmosphere was calm, soothing, like a warm cup of hot chocolate on a rainy day.

He closed the door softly behind him, watching quietly as you made your way to the kitchen. You carefully poured water into the vase to preserve the flowers. Your fingers grazed gently over the delicate petals before you placed the note next to them, careful not to lose it.

That’s when you felt it.

Warren’s arms wrapped around you from behind, his warmth melding with yours. He leaned in slowly, pressing soft kisses along your neck, trailing down toward the base of your throat. Your body relaxed under his touch, your eyes instinctively fluttering shut as your hands found his, gripping them gently over your own skin.

He smiled against your ear before placing a long, lingering kiss on your cheek, tightening his embrace as if trying to merge with you.

You turned in his arms, but didn’t pull away, your bodies still pressed close.

Your fingers traveled up his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath his damp shirt. Slowly, they made their way up to his neck, then to his face. Your thumb traced a gentle path along his cheek, and for a brief moment, Warren closed his eyes as if savoring the sensation.

When he opened them again, the dimples were visible. His unruly curls fell over his face, even more endearing under the soft yellow kitchen light.

“I prefer you like this,” you whispered, running your fingers through his hair, feeling the soft texture. “Your hair is beautiful.”

He tilted his head slightly to the side, almost reflexively, as if your touch was pulling him in.

“I thought about cutting it,” he murmured, his voice quiet, hesitant. “I thought maybe I should look more like those neat, ‘normal’ guys... I don’t want people to look at us funny when we walk down the street together.”

You frowned.

“Don’t ever do that.”

Your tone came out firmer than you’d expected, and Warren’s gaze locked onto yours, searching your face. His expression softened, but his words were still filled with quiet resolve.

“Don’t change just to fit what others want, Warren. I like you just the way you are.”

He blinked, as if needing a second to process your words.

“You like me?”

The question came out in a disbelieving tone, almost startled.

You paused.

Only then did he realize the words that had slipped out, unfiltered, as if they were second nature to you. A warmth crept up his face, and his gaze faltered, as if he had just ruined the moment.

But Warren didn’t let it slip away.

His hands moved to your face, holding you with a gentle but firm grip, forcing you to look at him.

“I like you,” he said again, this time with more certainty. “I’m embarrassed to say things like this... I didn’t want you to open the note in front of me because I’m a shy idiot when it comes to stuff like this.”

He looked down, took a deep breath, and then met your eyes again.

Silence.

He was searching for the right words.

“It’s just that…” He swallowed hard. “You’re worth me losing my shyness. You’re worth changing.” His eyes studied every feature of your face. “Changing into a better man.”

There was something raw in his voice. A genuine longing.

“Clothes, shoes, hair... I want to be worthy of you. Because I know I never will be.”

“No, Warren.”

Your voice was almost a whisper, but it carried weight. You swallowed hard.

“You are worthy.”

He blinked, surprised.

“Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” You took a deep breath. “I know you’ve messed up in life. Who hasn’t? But that doesn’t define you.”

You hesitated for just a second, gathering your courage.

“You are Warren Lipka.”

A pause.

His chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths.

You closed your eyes for a moment before reopening them and saying the words that had been stuck in your throat:

“My Warren Lipka.”

His lips parted into a smile. He was trembling slightly, but it was the kind of tremor that came from someone trying to hold back something much larger, something he wasn’t ready to let out.

He leaned in slowly, pressing his lips to your forehead. His eyes fluttered shut before he rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin.

“I like you.”

The confession came out as a whisper, thick with an emotion he hadn’t yet dared to name. He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his gaze intense.

The words I love you caught in his throat, but they were there, hanging in the air between you. You could feel it.

It was in the way his fingers trailed lightly down the back of your neck, as if testing the waters of something deeper. It was in the way his eyes burned with a desire to be closer, to bridge the gap between your souls.

“I like you too.” You hesitated, feeling the weight of your own feelings pressing down on you.

The silence cracked in the space between you, thick with unspoken words.

The moment felt too beautiful to be rushed by grand gestures, by too-big words.

“I really like you, Warren. A lot.”

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if savoring every syllable before pulling you into a tight embrace. His chest pressed against yours, his heartbeat a steady rhythm beneath the skin. His scent mixed with yours, a delicate blend that felt like home. And even without saying another word, you both knew.

You were his.

And he was yours.

For the whole night, if it came to that.

You stroked his hair gently before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Want anything before we sleep?”

He mumbled something against your neck, his voice muffled. “Just you.”

“Then let’s get rid of these wet clothes before bed.” You smiled, tightening your arms around him. 

Warren sighed, reluctantly pulling away from you.

“Alright.”

He ran his hand through his hair, the curls even more charmingly messy now.

“You can shower first, I’ll wait for you in the room.” He stepped back to let you pass, then paused, glancing over his shoulder. “By the way... where’s your room?”

You pointed down the hallway to the door at the end. “That way.”

Warren followed the line of your finger, nodding his head.

“Thanks. I was worried I might end up in Luke’s room by mistake.”

You chuckled, already walking toward the bathroom. As you closed the door behind you, the last thing you heard was Warren’s muffled laughter echoing through the house, filling the air with warmth.

Your body craved water in the middle of the night, pulling you from sleep. The familiar warmth enveloped you, and you realized Warren was holding you close. His arm was firm around your waist, as though he wanted to keep you there forever. His chest rose and fell in a calm rhythm against your back, his messy hair brushing against your skin.

You tried to slip away slowly, careful not to wake him. His arm was heavy, but with gentle movements, you managed to free yourself from his embrace.

You got out of bed and walked quietly to the kitchen, your bare feet meeting the coolness of the floor. You poured the water into a glass and drank in silence. Flashes of last night danced through your mind—too vivid to be just a dream.

Warren had been in your room. He was still there, sleeping deeply, and that was proof everything had really happened.

A small smile tugged at your lips as you stood there.

Then, you remembered the note.

The one he’d written with the bouquet.

The one he’d asked you to read only after he’d left.

But… he was asleep. It wouldn’t hurt to look.

You tiptoed over to the table, carefully grabbed the note, and unfolded it. Your eyes ran over the first line.

“Hi, I don’t know how to start this.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly. You pressed your hand over your mouth to stifle the sound, but your eyes were already glued to the paper.

“I have a rulebook. It’s called The Great Guide for Jailbirds in Love. I wrote it in prison when I was thinking about getting out and how I wanted to build a family.

One of the rules is: haste is the enemy of perfection. That’s why it took me so long to tell you I love you from the first time I saw you.

But you know I’m all messed up and love breaking rules, right? You didn’t need that much time to see that.

Well… that’s it. I love you, princess. A lot.

P.S.: Sorry if I start a fight and then tell you I like you. I get really scared when it comes to love.

I love you forever.

—Warren Sillyka.

(Also, I love the nickname Luke gave me. Congrats on raising such a cool kid. You’re an amazing mom. I want to be his dad, if you’ll let me. But maybe that’s just an excuse to wake up by your side every day. Now I’m talking too much. xo.)”

Your heart tightened.

You read the note once, twice, over and over again.

The “I love you” was there, unafraid. No hesitation.

You felt a smile stretch across your face before you even realized it, and with the note pressed to your chest like it was the most precious treasure in the world, you returned to the bedroom.

Back to Warren.

Back to the arms that, even in sleep, seemed to know exactly where you belonged.

Rule #7: Forgiveness Is Not Forgetting

The week flowed with the softness and intensity of a fast-moving river, its days drifting by in a harmony that felt almost like a dream. What once seemed trivial and mundane became extraordinary. Warren and you found yourselves closer than either of you had expected, a bond deepening without words, but through subtle gestures and glances that spoke volumes. You would purposely brush against each other, exchanging discreet smiles, your hands almost imperceptibly grazing as he, with a natural ease that felt rehearsed, would wrap his arm around your waist, as if by instinct—catching you before you could fall, though perhaps trying to keep you from losing yourself in something far greater.

The most intimate moments began to intensify. During lunch breaks, conversations flowed easily, often veering down paths that felt deeper than any trivial subject. And when no one was watching, the kisses in the storage room tasted of secrets and freedom.

It was a Friday afternoon when everything seemed even more vibrant, almost unreal. Luke, with that pink bubblegum sticking to his lips, was animatedly chatting with Warren, who leaned casually against the counter. Standing tall, he looked like a protective wall, listening intently to every word from the boy, even if their conversation was lighthearted and playful.

"Caleb the Giant knocked over my headphones, and you know what happened?" Luke said, his little legs swinging restlessly in the high chair, more excited than anyone else in the room.

"Oh, it was nothing, just a master move, huh?" Warren grinned, his eyes sparkling as he raised his hand for a high-five. Their laughter echoed through the space, but suddenly, he seemed to remember his role as the "adult." He straightened up, more serious now, though still maintaining a gentle tone. "But don't fight, Luke. Fighting never solves anything, even if Caleb is a walking bore."

Luke pouted, crossing his arms with a scowl. "That's not fair, Warren. You were cooler. Now you're starting to sound like my mom."

"And your mom is right, you know?" Warren sighed, still trying to maintain his responsible demeanor, but it was clear he spoke from his own experience. "Fighting only creates more trouble. But if anyone challenges you, you have to stay polite. Just say, 'No, thank you.'"

Luke wrinkled his nose, clearly skeptical of how effective that suggestion would be. "That doesn’t work with Caleb," he muttered, throwing his arms up in frustration as if the solution were just out of reach.

"He does that because, deep down, he’s jealous, Luke." Warren spoke in a more serious tone now, but it also carried a surprising understanding. "Believe me, I know what I’m talking about. People like Caleb do things like that because they don’t have what you have. He may have all the cool toys, but... what about the rest?"

"But he's rich, Warren! He has everything he wants!" Luke countered, a skeptical look in his eyes as if that was the explanation that should settle everything.

"It’s not just about what he has, Luke." Warren smiled wearily, leaning against the counter, his arm stretched out, his calm expression hiding a subtle bitterness. "Try forgiving him. That’ll throw him off. It’ll mess with his ego, be the ultimate power move. And you’ll have more control than you think."

"Forgive him?" Luke looked puzzled, his head tilted adorably as he mulled over the suggestion. "If I tell him I forgive him, it’ll be worse. He'll laugh at me again and spread it around that I’m a coward."

"That kid’s the real coward, Luke," Warren grumbled, almost without realizing he was dropping the "responsible adult" mask he was trying to maintain. "But look, if he keeps it up, you can play your final card: tell him you’ve got a bodyguard who's ready to stop all the bullying in the world."

Luke’s eyes lit up, immediately excited as if he’d found a new lever to pull. "And who’s this bodyguard?"

Warren, with a mischievous grin and an easygoing look in his eyes, extended his hand to the boy, exuding the confidence of someone who knew exactly the power a simple gesture could hold. "Warren Lipka, at your service, secret agent to Luke."

"Awesome!" Luke couldn’t contain his joy, raising his arms in an impromptu celebration as if he had already conquered the world.

"Warren, are you busy today?"

You stepped out of the office, a stack of papers clutched in your hands, your phone pressed against your neck, while your disheveled hair fell messily over your face. Your expression was tense, betraying the chaos of the day. You couldn’t help but move hurriedly, your eyes glued to the phone as if it were the only thing keeping you afloat in the storm.

"No, what’s up?" Warren asked, his brow furrowing in immediate concern. He approached you with quick, purposeful steps, his gaze locked on your tense face. He knew that when you looked like this, something urgent was happening.

"I need you to watch Luke." You replied, your voice tight and direct. Snatching the phone from your hands, you typed quickly, your mind racing at full speed. "I’ve got a parent-teacher meeting today, and his doctor just called me. She needs me to come in urgently. I’ll stop by Elizabeth’s to grab his gift while I’m at it."

"So, you’re going to be out the rest of the day?" Warren asked, his eyes never leaving you for a second, like he was trying to gauge what else might be coming.

"Pretty much." You exhaled sharply, frustration escaping through your teeth. Your phone wouldn’t stop vibrating, adding to the pressure already mounting inside you. "Damn, I have to go now. You can close early if you need to. If it gets tough, and if he wants to go out, be careful with the people around. If he starts getting too stressed, give him his headphones, okay?"

"Got it." Warren nodded, trying to process the flood of information while you already began to move, ready to leave.

"Thanks, Warren. Bye." You said, giving him a quick peck on the lips—a brief, yet meaningful gesture—before you hurried toward the door.

"Hey." He called, his hands automatically running through his messy hair. He straightened up and looked at you with a soft smile, his demeanor calming. "Now, that’s better. Bye."

"Thanks. I owe you one." You shouted over your shoulder, already heading out the door, your footsteps echoing quickly down the corridor. On the way, you dropped your phone, muttering a curse under your breath as you bent down to pick it up.

At least Luke hadn’t heard the mutterings under your breath, and without wasting any more time, you jumped into the car and sped off toward your appointments.

“It’s… four-thirty…” Warren started, adjusting the watch on his wrist before casting an amused glance at Luke, who was practically bouncing out of his chair. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his calm tone contrasting with the boy’s energetic excitement. "How about we finish our work quickly and then hit the mall?"

“Yay!” Luke shouted, his little eyes sparkling with excitement as he sprang out of his seat. He grabbed Warren’s hand, eager to rush down the hallway. "Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go!"

“Why the rush, little man?” Warren laughed softly, matching Luke's quick pace until they reached the middle of the aisle, between shelves of cookies and snacks. He placed his hands on his hips, relaxed yet alert, like he was in perfect sync with the boy. "Let’s get the work done properly first, before anything else."

“It’s because there’s a giant octopus at the mall!” Luke exclaimed, releasing Warren’s hand and already hopping around in impatient excitement, eyes glued to him, waiting for him to start opening boxes.

“An octopus, huh?” Warren raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile creeping onto his face as he sliced open the box with a pocketknife, careful not to nick Luke’s small hands. He tucked the knife into his pocket efficiently and, with the other hand, began organizing products onto the higher shelves.

“It’s not a real octopus, Warren. I’m a kid, not stupid.” Luke teased, laughing as he grabbed a pack of chocolate cookies. He placed it within his reach, his eyes lighting up with the idea. "It’s like a ferris wheel for kids. And I love octopuses! My favorite is theGrimpoteuthis, or dumbo octopus if you find it hard to say. "

“What do you like so much about octopuses?” Warren asked, genuinely curious, continuing the tedious task. He leaned slightly forward to reach the top shelves, but his eyes never left Luke, interested in what he might say next.

“I really love octopuses.” Luke answered, his enthusiasm contagious, pausing to share his thoughts while still working. "Octopuses have 8 tentacles, and it’s almost the same distance I have from my mom. We have 7 years and 7 months between us."

“Wow…” Warren said, impressed but still keeping his playful tone. "But hey, let’s focus on the work, little guy. We can’t waste time on this right now, or the squid will be gone." He winked, teasing lightly, but with a smile on his face.

“It’s not a squid, it’s an octopus.” Luke rolled his eyes, chuckling as he returned to his task. He seemed to find a nice balance between being serious and playful. "Wanna hear more octopus facts?"

“Sure. Hit me with it.” Warren chuckled softly, his eyes bright with genuine interest in what Luke might say next. He admired the boy—his mini-me, but with his own spark. He wondered silently how you had managed to raise someone so wonderful, someone who, despite everything, remained so pure and curious.

“Okay, here it is. Did you know octopuses have three hearts?” Luke asked, his voice full of anticipation, his eyes locked on Warren’s face as he quickened his work pace, grabbing packages with the efficiency of someone used to the job.

“Three hearts? That’s a lot.” Warren mused, tapping his chin casually, though his eyes remained focused on the task at hand. He picked up the heavier packages with precision, his posture relaxed but attentive, and his curiosity piqued by the conversation.

“Yeah. And did you know they have blue blood?”

“No way, you’re lying.” Warren teased, laughing softly when he saw Luke’s mock angry expression. He could tell the boy was eager to show off his knowledge. "I’m kidding. Why is it blue?"

“They have hemocyanin. I don’t know what that means, but my mom said that cyan means blue.” Luke explained with a thoughtful expression, and Warren nodded along, showing he was listening carefully.

“Did you know they’re super smart?”

“Oh, I know. I saw this crazy video of them escaping from aquariums.” Warren perked up, his voice rising a little with excitement, but he quickly caught himself. He didn’t want to sound like he was just telling any random story. The truth was, he’d watched those videos trying to learn escape strategies—something he never thought he’d need in real life. "But I get what you're saying. Octopuses are smart."

"Yeah, some even solve puzzles!" Luke shared, rubbing his hands together and shaking off the dust that clung to his fingers. He beamed with pride, happy to be teaching Warren something new. "I’m done."

“Me too, just one little thing...” Warren squinted, adjusting the price on a package of cookies that had been mis-labeled. He seemed more focused on the task now, but his eyes were still on Luke, keeping watch. "There. All done. Let’s go."

After getting into the car, Warren began to feel something new, something different from anything he’d experienced before. He glanced in the rearview mirror, checking that Luke was safe in the back seat, and a sense of belonging and purpose filled him. He found himself in a role he’d never imagined taking: someone who truly cared for another person, simply and genuinely. As he drove, he guided Luke, asking him not to stick his head too far out the window, helping with the small things the boy couldn’t quite understand or process.

For a moment, Warren felt as though he was healing something inside himself, something that had been lost along the way. He saw Luke as a kind of mission, a purpose. Taking care of him was something Warren never expected, but now it felt like something he would always do, a silent bond that couldn’t be broken, no matter what was happening around them. He knew Luke wasn’t his biological son, but there was something more, something neither he nor you dared to admit. The truth was simple, yet complex: family wasn’t just made of blood.

“Stay there, I’ll open the door.” Warren gently indicated, walking around the car to open the door for Luke. “Can you unbuckle your seatbelt and get out by yourself?”

“I can.” Luke replied confidently, stretching his legs to jump out of the car, but before he made any move, he asked a curious question, his eyes fixed on Warren as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “Hey, why do you open the door for mom if she can get out by herself when she’s with me?”

“It’s chivalry, Luke. It’s a nice gesture that shows how much I care about her.” Warren answered with a sincere smile, carefully closing the car door to avoid hitting any of Luke’s limbs, even though the little boy was already far from the door. His posture was relaxed, but he was still focused on what he was doing.

“Hmm, so all the men who do that really like the women they’re with?”

“Most of them just don’t like seeing the car scratched or the door broken because they don’t trust the girls.” Warren replied with a playful tone, but also curious about Luke’s question. He took the boy’s hand as Luke extended it, beginning to walk side by side through the shopping mall.

“Do you think that about mom sometimes?” Luke looked up at him with curious eyes, as though the answer had a much deeper meaning than he realized.

“Only sometimes, when she’s wearing those huge heels or when she’s mad about something.” Warren responded with grace, trying to lighten the mood while holding Luke’s small hand. “Is she always that scary when she’s mad?”

“Very much. Uncle Daniel says she’s always been like that. One day he even wanted to call the police.” Luke revealed, squeezing Warren’s hand a little harder, as if sharing an important secret, a revelation. His tone grew more serious, as if he were sharing something he’d heard many times before.

Uncle Daniel? That echoed in Warren’s mind. He realized that Luke still didn’t know who his father was, and it caused a strange pang of discomfort inside him. But he forced himself to continue the conversation without letting that thought take over. What mattered at that moment was that Luke was right there beside him, and he wanted to make the most of it.

“Hey, why do you always wear headphones? Do you really like music that much?” Warren asked, trying to steer the conversation away from Luke’s father, as if the silence between them could ease the growing tension in his mind.

“My ears hurt if I listen to too much loud noise. My mom said I’ve been like this since I was little.” Luke revealed, and Warren felt his mind grow even more confused with this information. He was trying to make sense of it all but decided to leave the topic for now.

“You’re still little, Luke.”

“Boring.” Luke stuck out his tongue at him, but his smile quickly returned, and Warren couldn’t help but laugh with him. “You’re the strangest adult I’ve ever met, Warren.”

“And you’re the strangest kid I’ve ever met, Luke. We’re even.” Warren teased, beginning to swing their hands as they walked. He felt a connection with Luke, a strange sense that, despite everything he had gone through, maybe—just maybe—he could be a good example for this boy.

“Everyone says I should be normal and that I’m weird. I get sad about it. But it’s different with you.” Luke smiled, and those words made Warren’s heart tighten. He felt something so strong, as if he were seeing Luke’s true pain right there, but also his strength.

Luke was an incredible kid, too good for the world he’d been given. He didn’t deserve any of it, but Warren knew that, somehow, he could still be a part of Luke’s life, doing whatever he could to help him. He didn’t know the reason for Luke’s suffering, but something inside him told him that, if he could change anything, he would do everything possible to make sure Luke had a lighter future.

“You know, being normal is boring. Normal people are boring.” Warren began, cracking his neck slightly to ease the tension that was starting to build up. The conversation was taking a lighter tone, but he knew the impact his words could have. “One day, I told your mom I wanted to be normal, and she told me never to do that. She likes me the way I am. That’s really important.”

“She says that to me too, but she’s my mom.” Luke whined, swinging his hands together in a slightly exaggerated way, still with that tone of someone wanting to express all his frustration but not knowing how. It was as if the boy had some doubt about what it truly meant to be "normal" and how he fit into this world.

“But this time, I’m the one saying it.” Warren replied, now with a calm that almost sounded wise, as if the words were coming from a place of real experience and understanding. “Next time someone calls you weird, know that it’s a compliment.”

Luke seemed to absorb the information, and a shy smile appeared on his face, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “Okay.” The boy’s expression, which had been heavy, was now more comfortable, lighter. Slowly, he was starting to understand that being who he was was fine, and he didn’t need to fit into molds imposed by others.

As they walked through the mall, Warren kept his thoughts focused and serious. He knew that, no matter how simple they seemed, people’s internal battles, even the smallest ones like Luke’s, were real. They were so different, yet so similar. Each had their own fears and sadness, and sometimes the pain seemed to come from such unexpected places. Luke was still so young, yet already felt loneliness, which made Warren’s heart tighten. He knew he couldn’t let that continue. He didn’t want Luke to feel how he sometimes did—lost and alone.

“Is that the octopus over there?” Warren asked, pointing to the children’s ride with a giant purple, colorful octopus, where a few kids were having fun, looping around and shouting with joy. He tried to steer the conversation toward something lighter, something they could both enjoy together.

“Yeah. I have the little card from when I came with my mom.” Luke said, all excited, grabbing his little backpack and opening it quickly to pull out his Aquamen card, which made Warren smile. The boy had a habit of holding on to memories, and it made Warren feel a pang of tenderness. “Here it is!” He showed the card with a victorious expression.

“Good taste, kid.” Warren teased, admiring the boy’s dedication to keeping that card with so much care. He walked over to the reception, validated the card, and added credits, always keeping Luke’s hand between his, as if not wanting the boy to get lost in the sea of people. It was their first outing, and in a way, Warren felt like a real father, trying to protect and make everything perfect for Luke. The attendant handed the card back, and Warren smiled as he returned it to the boy. “All set, let’s go.”

“Aaaayyy!!” Luke exclaimed, his hands clapping joyfully as he ran toward the line, jumping and skipping with contagious energy. “Come on, Warren!” He looked back over his shoulder, with that big, radiant smile, waiting for Warren to follow him.

“I’m coming.” Warren laughed, running to catch up with the boy. He already knew how important it was for Luke to have someone there, someone to trust. As he reached the ride, he placed a careful hand on the boy’s shoulders. “Alright, I’m here. You’re up next. Have fun. I’ll be right here, okay?”

“Okay.” Luke nodded, eagerly climbing into the seat of the ride. He looked a little nervous, but at the same time, his smile showed he was ready to face whatever came next. The attendant adjusted the safety belt, and Luke stayed there, firm, eager for the fun that was about to begin.

As the ride started to ascend, Warren watched Luke’s face carefully. He saw the boy’s smile expand, as if the whole world was too small to contain the happiness he was feeling at that moment. It was a genuine smile, the kind that only appears when someone is truly enjoying themselves. Luke’s expression was pure wonder, and Warren felt a deep sense of satisfaction, as if his mission was being fulfilled.

He stayed there, waiting, watching, feeling time pass in a more peaceful way. The octopus made a full rotation, and Luke waved from the top, his hands flailing, while his face lit up with contagious joy. Warren smiled back, a silent laugh escaping his lips, and moved a bit away, looking for a nearby bench to sit and wait. He bought a bag of popcorn, trying to distract himself a bit as time passed.

But inside, he was calm. The feeling of being there, part of this moment in Luke's life, was more than he had expected. It was as if, somehow, he had found a piece of himself in that boy. Something he hadn’t realized was missing.

Warren walked over to a distant bench, where exhausted parents occupied the seats, their faces revealing the weight of a long day, toys in hand, and tired gazes that said more than words ever could. But while he tried to distract himself by observing the scene around him, something caught his attention. Daniel was there. He appeared at the amusement station, his face weary, eyes slightly misty from exhaustion, still sporting a faint bruise that seemed to silently tell a story. Their eyes met. Warren felt a pang of guilt. That man still represented a part of an unresolved past, but he didn’t want to deal with that now. He waved briefly, averting his eyes from Daniel and focusing again on Luke, as if the problem wasn’t standing right in front of him. But, contrary to his plans, Daniel approached, walking with a downcast look, like a defeated lamb, carrying an invisible pain.

He stayed there, waiting, watching, feeling time pass in a more peaceful way. The octopus made a full rotation, and Luke waved from the top, his hands flailing, while his face lit up with contagious joy. Warren smiled back, a silent laugh escaping his lips, and moved a bit away, looking for a nearby bench to sit and wait. He bought a bag of popcorn, trying to distract himself a bit as time passed.

But inside, he was calm. The feeling of being there, part of this moment in Luke's life, was more than he had expected. It was as if, somehow, he had found a piece of himself in that boy. Something he hadn’t realized was missing.

Warren walked over to a distant bench, where exhausted parents occupied the seats, their faces revealing the weight of a long day, toys in hand, and tired gazes that said more than words ever could. But while he tried to distract himself by observing the scene around him, something caught his attention. Daniel was there. He appeared at the amusement station, his face weary, eyes slightly misty from exhaustion, still sporting a faint bruise that seemed to silently tell a story. Their eyes met. Warren felt a pang of guilt. That man still represented a part of an unresolved past, but he didn’t want to deal with that now. He waved briefly, averting his eyes from Daniel and focusing again on Luke, as if the problem wasn’t standing right in front of him. But, contrary to his plans, Daniel approached, walking with a downcast look, like a defeated lamb, carrying an invisible pain.

“Can I sit here?” Daniel's voice was low, almost as if he feared the answer, as if even the simple act of asking for permission was a burden for him.

“It’s a free country.” Warren replied, with a neutral tone, polite but carrying the coldness of someone wanting to maintain distance. He shifted slightly to the side, making no real effort to hide his internal irritation.

Daniel sat beside Warren in silence, his hands crossed almost defensively. His posture was slumped, eyes heavy with deep dark circles, as if he carried not just physical tiredness but an emotional weight that he couldn’t let go. He sniffed once, the sound almost lost in the tension between them.

“Did you come here to get hit again?” Warren asked bluntly, grabbing a handful of popcorn and tossing it into his mouth. The question was direct, cutting, as if he wanted to wound that man a little more with his indifference.

“No… Actually, I was passing by and remembered this place.” Daniel said, looking around, his eyes lost in something distant, as if the memories of those times suddenly overtook him. “I came here with her when Luke was a baby.”

Warren didn’t answer. He only nodded, a small gesture, no words. He didn’t have much to say, nothing that would really matter in that moment.

“Honey broke up with me.” Daniel sighed heavily, as if the weight had been lifted from his shoulders, an unasked-for confession. “The same day, in front of everyone.”

Warren responded automatically, with visible boredom in his voice. “Sorry to hear that.” He wasn’t interested in sympathizing with Daniel anymore. The sad version of the blond man was starting to irritate him.

“I paid so much for that party. I did everything she asked. She drained every penny I had saved in my savings account.” Daniel continued, completely ignoring Warren’s grimace, unloading another piece of his pain. “She never had to ask me for anything, even when I insisted.”

“She?” Warren repeated, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He knew exactly who he was talking about, no need to mention her name. He had heard it all before, and the frustration was beginning to build inside him.

“I was so jealous when I saw you two together for the first time.” Daniel confessed, his body sinking into the bench as if gravity itself was pulling him down, too weak to fight the weight of his own words. “We hadn’t spoken in years. I found out she never dated anyone after we broke up. Then, when I saw you together, with Luke smiling like he never did with me, my brain short-circuited.”

“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?” Warren scoffed, rolling his eyes with an impatient tone. “Your big idea was to throw a wedding invitation at her?” He couldn’t hold it back anymore. The irritation was visible, and the words came with a subtle venom. He didn’t want to know about Daniel’s feelings, or his old frustrations. He wanted to focus on the present, and Daniel didn’t belong in that picture.

“I went crazy, don’t blame me.” Daniel said, his expression twisting with discomfort, fingers messing with his once-blond hair, which now looked dull and lifeless. “Deep down, I always knew I liked her, and I was looking for someone shallow to replace her. Someone who didn’t know anything about me, and I could pretend to be someone else to escape the past.”

“Then why did you leave her?” Warren cut through Daniel’s words sharply, almost like a knife. His voice was threatening, and Daniel instinctively clicked his tongue, letting out a frustrated huff. He knew that question didn’t have an easy answer, but Warren wanted to hear it from Daniel. Why all this mess?

“I never abandoned her.” Daniel grumbled, running his hand over his head, as if trying to push away the painful memories that still haunted him. “I just didn’t know how to take care of Luke. That’s all. I didn’t… know how to deal with him. It was getting on my nerves. Consuming me. I couldn’t concentrate on college and my parents are rigid about it. Every time I had to take him to the doctor or something.” 

Warren felt anger bubbling up inside him. “And what’s so bad about that kid that you’d do something like that?” The question came out almost as a shout, his patience already at its limit. He closed the popcorn bag tightly, his fist clenched, trying to control the fury that was about to explode.

“He’s not normal. You must know that. You don’t need to be an expert to see it.” Daniel pointed at Luke, who was still playing away, before turning back to Warren, as if trying to justify himself. “When he was born, he cried all the fucking time. After a while, he started to be quiet like a mouse. He wouldn’t express anything, wouldn’t talk. We took him to the doctor and they said they didn’t know what was wrong.” 

Warren's stiffness eased a bit. He leaned back in his seat, listening to the story, trying to keep control and process what Daniel was saying.

“I always liked parties and all. Whenever there was one at home, Luke wouldn't stop crying for a second.” Daniel continued, rubbing his tired eyes, a shadow of regret beginning to appear in his voice. “He didn't like being picked up, he bit people, kicked them. He was violent. He was a... freak.”

Warren bit back the curse that was about to come out, his fists clenched, his body tense as he tried to listen without losing his train of thought. “Freak.” The word felt like a punch to the stomach. He wanted to scream, but he forced himself to stay silent.

“I left them alone when he was about 9 months old. I couldn't stand living with it anymore. I thought: it was an accident, so why should i care?” Daniel's voice broke, and his lips trembled, as if confessing was torture. “Today I regret that.”

“Good for you, you should suffer more.” Warren spat, his voice cold as ice, uncrumpling the popcorn bag and grabbing another handful, his stomach churning. He didn’t want to feel sorry for Daniel, not after everything he’d done.

“So I heard from a phone call when he was three and a half.” Daniel trailed off, sobbing, his breathing heavy as he ran a hand over his chest. “Claire. My sister… Told me Luke was autistic.”

At that moment, Daniel broke down. He began to cry, his hands on his head, his shoulders shaking with each sob. Warren’s eyes widened, a little disconcerted. He looked around, desperately searching for something to distract himself, but here they were, in the center of everything, in a public scene he didn’t know how to handle.

At first, he hesitated, but something forced him to reach out. He placed his hand on Daniel’s back, a clumsy attempt to calm the man, trying to at least appear decent in the face of his pain. 

“She… raised money and went to these expensive doctors by herself and found out about this.” Daniel continued, his words coming out in a disjointed way as he wiped his face with his shirt. “She didn’t tell me about this. She found out from my sister. I tried to help, but she wouldn’t. She said I was fucking dead to her. I’ve never seen them since that day. Luke doesn’t even know who I am.” 

Warren felt a tightness in his chest, but his anger didn’t go away. He couldn’t let this go.

“Man, you were the biggest jerk ever.” The words came out harsh, but necessary. He caught Daniel’s attention with a simple but cutting sentence. 

“What?”

“You were an idiot. The worst.” Warren continued, shaking his head in disapproval. “I know she forgave you, I do too. I can’t even imagine what the first few years must have been like…” 

“Then why does she treat me like this if she forgives me?” Daniel interrupted, his voice desperate, his pain showing, but also his confusion and wounded pride. 

“Forgiving isn’t the same as forgetting,” Warren said, his voice firm, almost emotionless, as he removed his hands from Daniel’s back, wiping them on his pants. “And she’ll never forget this, Daniel. It’s her son.”

“I know.” Daniel sniffed, running a hand over his face, and a hint of remorse showed in his eyes, but it seemed too late. “I know…”

“Uncle Dan?” Luke asked curiously, his voice soft. Warren didn’t even realize when the boy had gotten off the ride. He was so immersed in his own thoughts that everything around him seemed distant.

“Hey, baby octopus.” Daniel answered in a forced voice, trying to sound cheerful, but the smile he tried to show didn’t convince anyone.

“Are you okay?” Luke frowned, approaching him, his big, sincere eyes full of concern.

“Yes, I am, Luke. Thanks for asking.” Daniel smiled back, but the expression was an effort, his body tired and his mind restless. He forced himself to get up from the bench, trying to hide the weight of the situation. “It’s time for me to go.”

“You’re leaving?” Luke tilted his head to the side, visibly disconcerted. He looked at Daniel, who just nodded silently, as if that were explanation enough.

“I have to take care of some things.” Daniel lied, forcing his throat not to tighten. He didn't want the boy to see the pain in his eyes. Not now.

“Take care, okay?” Warren was sincere. Even though he hated him, he was still as complicated a person as he was.

“Thanks. Bye, Luke.” Daniel finally said, waving quickly before turning his back and walking towards the exit, his posture hunched, as if he carried more than just regret. His footsteps echoed as he walked away, disappearing into the crowds of the park.

Luke looked at the place where Daniel had gone, confused, as if he was trying to understand what had happened, but couldn't. He then turned to Warren.

“What happened to Uncle Dan?” Luke asked, his voice soft and full of uncertainty.

“Adults complicating simple things.” Warren replied, trying to make the moment seem light. He shook the empty popcorn bag, trying to mask the feeling of emptiness that still accompanied him. “Want some?” He offered the bag to Luke, but he knew the little boy wasn't interested.

“I want a burger.” Luke replied with a mischievous and defiant smile, taking Warren's hand again, as if it were something natural, as if they were together in any situation, without the complications of adult life.

“You'll owe me that trip when you're an adult. I'm getting my pockets empty.” Warren smiled, feeling a little lightness return to his heart. He threw the bag of popcorn in the trash with a determined gesture. “But I also want to eat something with more substance. Will you have some soda?”

“My mom won't let me.” Luke pouted as he started walking, his hand still firmly in Warren's. “She says I'll grow up with bad bones, she only gives me juice. She makes beetroot, orange and carrot juice for breakfast.”

“Typical of your mother. I hate beets.” Warren rolled his eyes, letting out a light, more relaxed laugh. He always found it funny how some mothers could be so strict about certain foods.

“I hate it too. It's so disgusting.” Luke whispered, almost as if he was confessing a deep secret, something that no one should ever know. 

Their laughter was spontaneous, a moment of complicity that made the day a little brighter. Despite all the heavy revelations that were still engraved in his heart, Warren knew that what mattered at that moment was to make Luke smile. He wanted, for a brief moment, to banish the ghosts of the past and give the boy something simple: happiness. 

“I bet you’ve never had Pepsi with lime.” Warren said, raising an eyebrow, trying to spice up the conversation with something fun. He started walking towards the fast food joint, determined to do what every father would do: spoil good habits with a pinch of fun, lots of sugar and fries to go with it. It was a small diversion, but he knew that these small gestures could mean the world to Luke.

[simpingforbots]

Hello I was wondering if I could have human reader and TFone elita one in it the human lands on cybertron gets found by elita one and lives at her place and shows the struggles of them liveing on cybertron and them growing in their relationship with elita one soon after having a hard time sleeping elita ask them if they want to sleep in her bed and cuddle

Thank you I hope this wasn’t a lot

Hello. Sure can do my best. I am thinking of putting this meeting this time in future, after Sentinel became a twix, but before war. In more peaceful times. might even take few chapter so head up.

Little Alien - part 1

You were no one special and you knew it. Unlike every one else on this ship you did not go to some expensive college, or was a genius gifted kid who managed to ace every thing, or just well adducted person who did their best to earn their spot here. You were just a normal, run of the mill, human being, who happen to win this stupid lottery and decided to take a bite. The months of grilling training for the launch off, space and it’s zero gravity and how to act was enough to make you second guess, yet you still decided to stay. How many people can tell their future generation that they were in actual space, joining egg heads for some kind of experiment. What you did not know that you were also an unfortunate sap to become their lab monkey, after all they need someone to do something

You just stared at the new planet as it slowly passed in to the illuminator, able to see light illuminating from it, fascinated that something like this exsist. All it took is to travel though some kind of worm hole while you were frozen, now about to land on this new world. The leader of this operation asked every one to come to the detachable shuttle, and get ready for descend. Smiling, you pushed your self though zero gravity, enjoying the feeling of being free, collecting your suit and camera on the way as your only job here. Floating in to the shuttle you greeted other people on it, smiling and doing your best to stay out of their way as they got every thing ready, dragging in boxes and other expensive equipment. They been good to you so far, and you relay did not wanted to piss them off. Taking your right full seat at the far back, away from controls and important leavers, you stared outside and watched as shuttle detached it self, slowly moving away from the main ship, able to see other scientists watch you and the team go down to the planet. The ride was not without hiccups as this planet was a new environment and who knew what was on it, especialy of it looked like it was made from metal. You felt the entire ship shake as they slowly descended, landing on the stable ground and after some time you finally were allowed to get out, following others as they all got out, carrying boxes and other science equipment.

“Holly Shit” your eyes grew wide as your eyes scanned alien terrane. The alien sun was just going up, basking the entire world in wonderful colours and constantly shifting mountains added to the majestic atmosphere to this new world. Hell, you sure you can fell quite buzz of something coming from below heavily padded boots of the suit. “DO you think there is air here?”

“So far reading says there is traces of oxygen on this planet, so I presume so” one of the scientist reply, piking up a small rock for the sample “Should be safe for us, but for safety reasons it best to keep the helmet on”

“okay...” you stayed quite, continue watching new mountains grow from the gorund while other collapsed. Pulling your camera out, yes it was on old one, that was printing photos, you still liked t, you started taking pictures, letting the small machine whirr as it printed, giving you a memorabilia of such strange and wonderful world.... “Hey guys, do you need me to take some other photos... for the science?”

“Actually it will be nice” you grinned as you continued taking picture, staying ou of the way of those who knew what to do.

It seems like you’ve been here for hours and standing in one place, taking the picture at the same spot soon bored you and you wondered out a bit further in, not to far as to still be in radio frequency range, taking photos of every thing that seemd out of sight. Like the small tongues of grass poking though the harsh metallic surface and seeming to thrive in this harsh environment, right next to flowing blue liquid that glowed brightly. Walking over to it, you huffed a bit thanks to the heavy weight of the suit, lifting your camera and ticking a picture of the river as close as you could, even able to see it “flow” in picture. Maybe you should tell your “friends” about what you found, kneeling down a bit and reached over, moments away from touching it before quickly puling your hand away. Right, no, you are human, you poke things with sticks just like God intended. Turning around, you spotted a small “stick” or something that looked like it, wrapping your gloved hand around and plunging it in t the river, obtaining a sample. A sound from the other side of the river quickly alerted you, making you jump and stare on shock at what you wee seeing.

A deer – or something that look like a deer, giant and made out of metal, reminding you about the obstruct sculpture you’ve seen one time back on Earth, herd of them, leisurely walking over to the river, ignoring your presence and bowing to take a sip of the strange liquid floating by, one by one, stretching in to line, with few staying on guard, the round lights on their head instead of normal horns glowing purple, their head high up and staring around. Your eyes were glued to them, to much in awe to even say anything but slowly breathing in, time to time eyes darting from one creature to another. You were scared that if you move to fast you’ll scare them, if you make any noise, like calling to your group, they will run away, so moving slowly and carefully, you lifted your camera again, turning the flashlight of. Slow as a snail, you raised it, closing one eyes and looking through lens at the creature, who were still enjoying liquid, ignoring your presence completely, allowing you to take as many photos as you want. Finally one of them noticed you, the light shifting for just a second to red, before going purple again, the head slightly tilting to the side, it’s small eyes shifting rapidly, waiting for any action from you. And so did you, watching them in return, ready to run in case those huge metal beast decides you were danger. Finally it decided to see what you was about, jumping over the narrow for him river, making you jump and take few steps back, freezing a bit as it walked over, graceful as one would be on earth, heavy body making idle mechanic noises as it slowly walked over, head low and lights blue, closing the distance. You carefully lifted your hands up and try not to look threatening to something metal and big, just letting it inspect you, and it seemd like the thing approved of you, the head bumping in to your side lightly, yet still making you stumble, rubbing a bit and light turning green with a ding, letting human let a heavy sigh of relief, lifting hands toward the head and letting it slide up and down the metal segmented head, able to feel quite buzz and warmth even beneath gloves.

“Wow, you are beautiful!” you whispered, smiled creeping up not your face, the mask fogging up a bit with your breath speeding up, able to feel your heart pounding in the chest. “just what are you? Hehe” you let a chuckle, bracing your self as the rest of the flock came over to “inspect” new creature, head budding you as well and soon enough the entire heard was playfully bumping heads to get their own share of head pats, making you savour the moment that you were the first to interact with alien life, even if it was wild one, it still was amazing, so in the moment that you were unable to feel that the distant faint rumble grew nearer, and when it become a small tremor that it seemed to finally alert the deer, their heads shooting up, scaring you a bit, with their rings turning red and quickly scramble away, forcing you to curl up and cover your head from them running over you, almost trembling you to death with their huge heavy metal hoofs and weight. When they ran away, you got up, confused just what was going on, turning your head to horizon and watching carefully, seeing something that was not right.

Mountains, they were growing closer, shifting quicker and quicker toward your and your team direction, but could it be just your imagination. Confused you reached for the tablet on your hand, taping it to activate your radio, calling out to the team, asking if every thing was okay, only to get static. The mountains grew nearer and tremors grew harder, finally sending you in to panic mode, turning around and running back to the ship, stumbling with every shake and heart pounding. Why did you wonder so far?! You kept running, panting and screaming for the team, eyes pilled on horizon and seeing your team finally react to earthquake, gathering expensive equipment on to the ship in a hurry, constantly looking back. Why were they looking back, what was going on. Regretfully you turned your head, stumbling over your feet, catching just in time as to not fall, eyes growing so wide you could feel them almost pop out of the scull – the constantly shifting mountain were rapidly moving towards you, sending violent earthquakes along, and the sight alone pumped more adrenalin in to human’s blood stream, the chain of exhaustion quickly falling of, screaming louder, turning your head and speed up as much as you could in the heavy suite, waving your hands at last person jumping in.

“Wait! Wait! FUCK!!!” You yelled loud enough to even burst your own ear drums, tears forming as you watch human look in between inside the ship and you, diving in and the ship slowly rising up, the engines roaring no lounder then the grumble of the ground, slowly kicking in and flying away, leaving you behind to your doom. You screamed in anger, fear and pity for your self as the shifting mounted quickly caught up, tossing you around like some kind of tennis ball. You felt every bump and toss, sharp edges digging in to you and you fell on your head to hard, knocking you out.

Ever since Orion become a prime every thing seemed to change for the best. No bot had to slave away in mines as energon flowed through city and it was plenty then enough for every one, the only reason mines were still were open was for minerals and safety was at all time high with Elita-one on control. And she was quite proud of it, after all she did spend most of her life reaching for high position, and now she was right hand of Optimus Prime, with a lot of paperwork and responsibilities, along with all the stress. Hunched over another stack of data-pads, it took every thing not to throw it at poor sap who came in, bringing more documents and thankfully some energon to help her power though this entire mess even if the energon crisis was over, there were other troubles that needed to be taken care of. Like sudden influx of young bots, waste and a clear as day divide between those who could live in comfort and those who could not, something even Prime did not approve much, seeing as every one were equal. Letting bot place data-pads and energon in front of her, she waved them off, leaning back in chair with a grunt.  Besides those problames there were still Quintessons, who are now no longer provided with energon by Sentinel and Megaron with high gurds, now knowns as decepticons, constantly causing trouble and even starting roomers about false Prime.

She needs a break. Getting up, Elita headed out, passing by B-127, who was happily talking some ones audio off, a smile creeping on her faceplate to see him so free after hearing where he was, finally enjoying a proper life that was intended. Heading out, Elita headed up to the surface, wanitng to enjoy the scenary just for a bit, reminiscing about past adventure, driving through landscape when something caught her opticks. On horizon something appeared, descending quickly and carefully, to small to be one of Quintessons ships. Reeving up the engine, fem-bot speed up toward the landing, even if it was far away, praying to primes it was nothing to worry about, still being carful of shifting terrain. By the time she reached the spot she calculated was landing site for the small ship it wad to late for who ever landed. One of many shifting mountains made it’s way toward the ship and crushing something small in the way while the ship left, just in time to avoid collision with the shifting mass of metal, leaving one of presumed passengers behind to their fate, getting tossed around mountain like some kind of ball before going limp along woth moving maintain stopping. Knowing first hand how ruff it can get, Elita rushed over, something inside her gripping her spark as this small thing looked to close to a sparkling and getting tossed like this surely did not end well. Transforming mid way, Elita closed the distance, slowing down and carefully walking over to limp body laying on one of spikes, unmoving or showing signs of life.

This small thing did look like sparkling from a far, but up close it looked more creepy. It was small, in white covering with no distinguished segment, as if the metal was fused all in one moving part, it did had hands with five small digits, curled a bit, creepy. Shaking of the strange feeling, Elita approached it closer, kneeling down and letting her self inspect it, head tilting side to side while optic scanned the strange life form. It did not look like any Quintessons she’ve ever seen, in fact those bug creature were big and this paled in compression, hell it’ll easily fit in her servo alone. Slowly reching out, she poked it, body swaying before going still again, but just for a second she could feel warmth. Could this thing still be alive? Poking it again just to make sure it won’t suddenly attack or anything else, even if the size difference was big, she wrapped her servo, lifting it, round strange head with big reflective visor swaying a bit, limbs hanging down, big bot could feel it moving, middle torso expanding and slowly deflating over and over, like some kind of constant force, an engine that can not stop even when one is unconscious. Seeing her own reflection in the strange head, Elita use one of the digits to prop up the round head to make sure it was looking at her. It felt so week and fragile, just what is it? Squinting a bit, Elita could see something under the strange visor, could this strange reflective thign move, slide up perhaps. Slowly, using the other servo, she tapped the head, it making a hallow thunk noise, still not reacting and the strange reflective surface moving just a bit, confirming that it can be moved. Using the same digit, she slid it up, opticks growing wide and head tilting back a bit with shock.

This thing had a face, just like any other cybertronian, just on strange colour and weird things on it, yet the expression seemed peaceful as if they were simply recharging. Bringing them closer, Elita squinted, tapping on the strange helmet to see what else was inside, angling it along the way. Nothing that she can see from here. Looking up, she had to wonder if this one was left behind as to let other escape the shifting mass or they were unlucky enough as to not get on the ship when disaster stuck, what ever it was, she can no leave it here, no matter how much she wanted. Letting a heavy exhausted sight, fem bot stood up, leaning on the mass and turned, heading back to the Iacon, already getting a headache just from thinking what will happened when she brings this strange creature there, especialy Bee with all his questions.

--

Why is every thign hurts? Letting a grunt out, you tried opening your eyes, immideatly getting assaulted by light, forcing you to squint and raise your hand to shield eyes from such suden brightness. Where were you? Not on the ship that was for sure as there was no ideal chatter of tv captain put on as to not let the crew go crazy due to all the silence outside the ship. Who wouldn’t if you had to spend months floating in vacuum of space with no constant noise that ususaly surrounded you on Earth – all the nature sounds and human life, a constant, even if not noticeable, noise. Slowly getting up, you can feel fresh bruises painfully sting all over you, a sigh of relieve escapes you, seeing that you managed to get out of what ever the fuck was happening alive, with only cracked visor, quickly putting panic in to your head. Even if there was air that in theory was breathable, it was still not the best. Taking a few deep breath you did not notise anything bad happening, no dizziness, or sharp pain in chest, meaning it was alright. Good. Hold on, where are you?

Finally snapping back in to reality, your eyes grew wide while you looked around, head snapping from one side to another. You were in the hugest room you could even imagine, bigger then the room you visited back in the day during the “tour” where guide explained what was going on and what you singed up for, showing of the top of the notch technology. No, this was bigger, much-much bigger and it seamed like you were on something huge that extended a bit further and dropped quickly, getting up, you walk, spinning around, eyes wide and instinctively reaching for the camera, bumping in to something. You bumped in to the glass... what? Putting your hand on it, you followed the slightly noticeable surface, trailing it above and behind you, horror slowly sipping in. Dome, where ever you were placed in to the glass dome like some kind of spider caught in a glass, you are not a bug! Panicking, tried to get under it, the gloves are to thick to do the job, and even if they could, you doubt you can lift something so big and heavy. So banging it is. Drumming your fist on the surface, you yell

“HEY! Let me out! Let me out!!!” you shouted on top of your lungs, bot fist hammering on the surface, hell even kicking, trying to get attention of what ever it is caught you. Do you really want to? No, but you have to get out and try to call “home” to get the hell of this planet and tell every one to not come back. “HEY!!!”

Something seemd to hear you and a heavy, like very heavy footsteps echoed though the entire place, you freezing and staring at what clearly was door frame, eyes glued and heart pounding, expecting something to pop in all while your brain started processing every thign at once. You were in a huge dome, in a hugest room big enough to fit in 10 of the ships you travelled through space, you saw huge deer made out of metal, so what can be stomping so loudly through the hallway. As realisation quickly hit you like a frag train, sweat pooling on your back you quickly stopped banging and just stared quietly at the doorframe. It did not take to long for the source of the stomping to slowly peer in, metal fingers wrapping around the edge of doorframe, and a huge metal head with strange helm popped in. Of God, it had a face and it’s huge blue glowing eyes staring at you like a child staring at the new thing they just found. Both of you just stared at each other, wide eyed, shocked and confused, you honestly were about to faint as the vision got blurry and starts blinking in to appearance. It seemd like the big yellow things will make the first move.

The face light up with smile, it’s mouth moving as it spoke garbled words that sounded like someone put on blender and drill, quickly walking in to the room and closing the distance between your prison and it, huge hands reaching for the dome. You let a yelp when cage left the gorund, you sliding back and trying not to fall on your ass, heart pounding and now completely terrified. Of course this planet will have giant metal people, though huge bot did not seemd to concerned that you were terrified out of your wits, rotating the cage and you at the same time, examining you with the most puppy like eyes you really did not expect bot to have, it’s mouth in a wide smile. How can he talk so much, is he expecting you to understand him just because he speaks non stop.... oh god is that how animals feel when they first get adopted.

When Elita brought the strange creature back with her, every one seemd to be shocked by it and freaked out, mostly confused and wierded out how something alien can look so like them, even in a weird way they ad two peds, two servos, a head hidden behind round helmet, all keeping their distance, and not only bacouse it was a strange thing, but because Elita held it and no one want smoke with here, she carried her little finding in to her office, placing it in a small glass cage so that it won’t run away when it wakes up and she is not there. Grunting, big bot leaned on table, scaning the small thign over again. It seemd to be damaged while being tossed around like some kind of ball, but not leaking anything, meaning that the thing it was “made out of” was only an outer shell, like Quintessons had the first layer, hiding beneath a strange fleshy thig, could it be the same case. So does it mean this thing is a Quintessons, like hatchling of theirs? Hardly, they should look somewhat similar, like a smaller version of them and ugly. Letting a heavy sigh, she tapped on the glass, keeping her worries to her self as another request for meeting came though, taking her to the other side of this huge building, passing by B-127.

B-127 knew that Elita brought something that caught every one of guard and he wanted it to see, yet the tall fem pushed him aside, saying that it was not the time for that, making him a bit grumpy. Is she saying he can’t control him self around something so small, but he can and he will prove it, and it did not take long for big fem-bot to be called for another boring meeting that he can sneak in to her office, quickly running though the corridor. And just as he was getting closer he heard the weirdest sound ever – it sounded like chirping and soft singing in some new tones, getting his attention at full strength. Tip toing now, as to not scare it, Bee poked his head out of the hallway, staring at the small dome with the thing, it awake and active, and looking at him.

“OH WOW! You are cute! What are you? You are relay weird little thing, are you?” chittering B-127 quickly closed the distance and “gently” grabbed the dome, little thigns sliding to the back of the cage, still staring at him “IS this your opticks? Why are they not glowing? How are you small? Are you a sparkling? You are so cute! I am gonna call you Steve Two” he spun the cage, trying his best to get a better look at the little thing locked away and how to get you out the cage, jolting you around at the same time. It seemd like Elita knew he would come and locked it up tightly, taking the key with her, but no trouble he will just

“What are you doing?”

“AH” tossing the dome out of panic, B-127 scrambled to catch it, digits slipping while it was in air and the cage shuttering on impact, letting a yelp and covering his mouth. He did not mean for that to happen “B-127!!!”

“I did not mean to kill it!” Bee spun around, hands in air as angry Elita stormed in t the room, eyes on him and steam escaping with angry hiss “I just wanted to see them”

You yelled as the cage got tossed and big golden bot scrambling to catch you, like a child trying to catch tossed ball, but to your horror he did not and you plummeted down, glass shattering on impact and you hitting the gorund. You must be very lucky though as all you came out with was a few cuts, somehow surviving the fall, but it still hurt and knocked air out of lungs. Coughing your lungs out, trying to breath in, your ears rung like crazy, as if you were by explosion, roiling on stomach. You can not rest now, even if you wanted, you need to run, scrambling to your feet you ran, or tried to, stumbling and falling again and again, basicaly crawling under the huge table, hiding from the sight yet still able to see thing. The huge golden bot was clearly getting scolded by a big alien robot, who most likely was his mom or something like this, huge arms on hips and staring at young bot, chattering in strange robotic language and yellow one looking down, quite. Okay, good, you got kidnapped by baby bot and now the little one tries to convince the parent to keep you. Pink one even was letting steam out of the body, upset that yellow one broke the cage and bend down, piking up a few shard, scaning all over the place, clearly lookig for the lost specimen – you.

“Oh hell nah” you whispered, gripping in the table leg and darting behind, barely avoididng being seen. “Oh fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck” looking around for something to hide in that is to narrow for huge hands, you managed to spot a small crevasse in between wall, far away and risky if you do it now, yet the huge pink robot was closing on to your location, so you waited your options and darted out of the hiding, legs burning already but you pushed your self, laser focused on crevasse, ignoring a metallic noise, heavy footsteps an just in time managed to throw your self in to crack as huge metal fingers clasped around the empty space where you once were. Purely out of adrenaline, you pushed your self deeper, wedging in between walks and stared back out of the hole. The pink one was kneeling and starring at you with the most angry stare there was, light blue rings in dark blue ocean of light shifting almost every second. It grumbled what you can gues was disappointment that something small like you manged to get away, moving away and shoving metal hand in, fingers wriggling around, inches away from you, and there was no more space to shove your self away from, the tank already stuck and you are not getting out of suit, not because it was dangerous, but because you will get captured the second you will climb out of this bulky suit. The fingers went back, face returns, angry grumble, and again it is trying to reach for you.

What did you get your self in to?

[wordsofwhimsy]

𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚎𝚜 & 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎 - 𝙿𝚝. 2

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

【ＰＡＩＲＩＮＧ】 ⦂ Mark Grayson x Reader

【ＧＥＮＲＥ】 ⦂ Fluff, romance, & slight!tragedy

【ＷＡＲＮＩＮＧＳ】 ⦂ None

【ＩＮＳＰＩＲＡＴＩＯＮ】 ⦂ “Forrest Gump” by Frank Ocean

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

♫♪ This is love, I know it’s true… ♫♪

Mornings had always been hard for you.  Most days you struggled to even open your eyes, let alone get out of bed.  As a young teenager you mother had told you this was a sign of depression.  You of course, being a teenager, brushed off her concern.  It took several years for you to come to the same conclusion on your own.

Mornings with Mark were different.

The sun seemed softer, warmer, dripping through the blinds like honey.  The songbirds were a melodious symphony that gave you a sense of peace.  Your mind was blank as you slowly blinked into consciousness.  Mark’s sleeping form was the first thing you clearly saw as your vision came to focus.  He was laid on his side turned towards you, lips slightly parted, and his face completely relaxed.  He was beautiful, and you were in love.  Unable to help yourself, and perhaps even unaware of your own actions, your fingers reached out to trace slowly over his shirtless chest.  They moved gingerly over the plains of his abdomen, dipping into the valley between his pecks, and skirting along his defined collarbones.  In synch with your fingers finding his jaw, you leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips.

Mark’s arms snaked around you in response, pulling you into a languid yet strong embrace.  His mouth moved against yours, melting you into a puddle on his bed.  “I hope I didn’t wake you up,” you murmured against his lips.

“No, no,” he assured between quick, soft kisses.  Then he paused and added, “Well, maybe.”  You rolled your eyes and pushed playfully away from him.  Chuckling he and pulled you back in, keeping you close. “Wait no I’m kidding, come back.”  You immediately gave up the fight and settled comfortably back into his arms.  He placed a kiss to the top of your head, and in that quiet moment you wished it could last forever.  That was until you felt a pang of hunger curdle in your stomach.  Knowing that an embarrassing growl was just around the corner, you asked,

“Would you want to go get breakfast?”

“That sounds good,” he responded, burying another kiss into your messy bedhead. “Get ready.  I know the perfect place.” 

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Konnichiwa!” A woman of small frame and jet black hair stood at your table side, a toothy grin painting her face.

“Konnichiwa,” you greet back with a small awkward chuckle.

“Are you Americans?” the woman asked, head slightly cocked to the side. 

“We are—sorry, we don’t know Japanese.”  You threw a quick glance to Mark whose eyes were fixed on you. 

“That’s okay~” the waitress responded promptly in a singsong tone. “What can I get for you?”

“I’ll have the pancakes.”

“I’ll do the tamagoyaki [a/n: this is a “sweet and savory omelette” that is a traditional breakfast option in Japan], please,” Mark added, his stare only now moving to look at the waitress. 

“Hai!” She gave a slight bow before heading off to presumably ring in your order.  Waiting to be sure the waitress was out of earshot you finally looked to Mark with an incredulous expression.

“Y’know, this is definitely not what I had in mind when I suggested breakfast.”  He flashed his pearly whites at you, apparently pleased with his choice.

“Trust me, Japan really has breakfast figured out.”  You chuckled before taking a sip of your water. “My mom and I come here sometimes.”  The unspoken question on your mind: did your father come too?  Instead, you say,

“Debbie makes some of the best pancakes, I’ll have to see if this place can stack up.”

“Pun intended?” Mark laughed.

“In all seriousness, I’ve never been to Japan before.  Tokyo is gorgeous!”  He hummed in agreeance.

“You should see the countryside.”

“If it’s anything like it is in anime’s I can only imagine.” 

“Honestly? It’s pretty close.” Your foot bounced under the table, still shaking off the jitters from the flight here.  You took another sip of water, dehydrated from the adrenaline rush.  Mark’s broken face came into view as you put the glass back down.  He tried to hide it, but you knew him well, and his pain spoke to you even in the silence.  Uncrossing your legs you slipped your foot from the sandal you were wearing and reached out to rub your toes over calf.  This seemed to bring him back to you, his body tensing for a moment then relaxing.  “I’m excited for you to try these hotcakes.  I’m telling you they are kind of ridiculously fluffy.  It’s like eating a cloud.”

You laughed, eliciting a grin from him. “Well now I’m really excited.”  Your morning continued on in this fashion, conversation staying to lighthearted subjects and an obvious all together avoidance of what happened yesterday.  A part of you wondered if he chose to eat on the opposite side of the planet in an attempt to avoid hearing any news stories or strangers’ conversations relating to the matter.  The thought alone left your heart burning in your chest.  As desperately as you wanted to talk to him and find out the details of the event, you would leave the ball in his court and wait patiently for him to be ready to open up.

Instead, you offered him wordless comfort in the small gestures of connection as you sat there together.  Rubbing your foot against his leg under the table, reaching over with your hand to rest on top of his, placing a kiss to the top of his head when coming back from the restroom.  It was the best you could give him, and though they seemed insignificant to you, they meant the world to Mark.  They were all he needed in that moment.

“Okay, don’t tell Debbie, but that might have been the best pancake I’ve ever had,” you confessed, leaning back in your seat with your hands placed on your stomach in dramatic effect.  Mark’s face lit up.

“I told you!  It doesn’t even make sense how good they are.”  You laughed at his excitement.

“Speaking of Debbie, is she working today?”  The joy melted quickly from his face, and yours mirrored the same emotion.

“I doubt it.  I should probably go see how she’s doing…”  You stayed silent but nodded your head in agreement.  Having paid the tab a few minutes prior, you both stood from the table and headed back to the small alley you’d landed in.  “Ready?” he asked, you now cradled in his arms with your arms wrapped around his neck. 

“Mhmm.”  You both move in synch towards each other, kissing slowly and deeply.  The feeling of his lips against yours never ceased to put butterflies in your chest, your toes coming to a point in pure bliss.  Your mouths moved together, complimenting one another effortlessly.  His tongue skimmed along your bottom lip but then pulled away shyly, sending chills down your spin.  By the time you broke away for air you were already high above the ground and moving just below the clouds.  You buried your face into the crook of his neck, still unable to handle the height after all this time.

Instead of thinking of how far up you were, you focused on the feeling of weightlessness you had when held in his arms.  For all his strength and otherworldly capabilities, he treated you like a delicate flower.  Doing his best to offer you the world while forever being mindful of your fragility.  He always kept you so secure, and flying like this in his arms left you with a feeling of almost ethereality.

Unknown to you, this feeling was requited in Mark – only he felt the weightlessness in his mind and heart.  He could never let you go, and had resolved long ago that you would be apart of his life forever.  Even in the centuries to come where you were dead and gone, you would live on eternally in his heart.

♫♪ I won’t forget you. ♫♪

[swagyalastorwife]

Adam dating alphabet{ headcanons}

Author's notes : hiiiiiiii guyssss (^-^)/❤️I hope you like it and sorry for the spelling mistakes

⚠️warning ⚠️: jerk off, mention of sex very often, sex life

🔝maybe I'm overdoing it a little but I prefer to warn⚠️

♡A affection:

He is not afraid to show you how much he loves you in private, in public it's another story, he has to keep his cool guy image but even in public he won't hesitate to hold your hand and slap your butt

♡ B His favorite part of your body:

He loves your butt and your breasts my god, he will never take his hand off your butt and when you cuddle he automatically puts his head in your breasts

♡C curiosity:

He is a very curious man and he will always ask you what your things are for, makeup, sanitary napkins, etc.

♡ D dirty secrets:

He secretly dreams of doing it in public...or that you have total control over him, you will tie him up with handcuffs and ride him all night long..

♡ E experience:

He has had a lot of bad relationships because of lilith and Eve so the day he saw you for the first time he understood very quickly that you were the right one! don't disappoint him he loves you more than anything

♡ F favorite moment with you:

In the evening after a long day of work he loves to snuggle up to you and complain about others Angel

♡ G generous:

For you he will do anything and he will offer you everything you want, he just wants you to be happy with him

♡ H home:

He does not clean the house but will do the tasks that you tell him to do. If by some miracle he puts something away without you asking him he will want you to congratulate him

"hey baby I cleaned the dishes"

"ha that's cool thanks Adam"

"is that all you have to say to me?? just thank you??"

♡ I intimacy:

He loves these moments of intimacy with you but not only sexual no, just being snuggled up against you makes him so happy

♡ J jerk off:

Well he will only do it if you refuse to fuck him, he will do it by looking at photos of you

♡ K keep your secrets:

He is your biggest confidant and he will never betray you he loves you too much for that and he will keep your secrets and he will never use them against you

♡ L language of love:

Touch he loves touching you and his biggest fear is losing you, even at night he holds you close to him because he is afraid that you will leave and leave him alone

♡ M motivation to get up in the morning:

0/10 he does not like being woken up and go to work these are the excuses he uses because in truth he simply loves being stuck to you and loves the warmth that comes off your body, he does not want to be separated from you, good luck getting him up

♡ N name:

He calls you baby, honey, sweet heart, killer boobs, slut in the hottest moments and many other nicknames

♡ O Oral:

As much as possible, and will do anything to hear you scream his name too

♡ P physical touch:

As I have already said everywhere! and at any time

♡ Q quality time:

For him quality time is when it's just the two of you and there's no one else, snuggled up on the couch and watching TV

♡ R rock:

When he sees you naked or just wants you he'll get hard as a rock

♡ S sex life:

Every occasion birthday, party, in the shower, and especially in every room of the house

♡ T tickle:

He likes to hold you down on the bed and tickle you just to hear your sweet laugh

♡ U ugly:

He'll never admit it but he's very self-conscious about his physical appearance and always thinks he's too ugly to be with you

♡ V voice:

He loves hearing your voice, he could spend years listening to you talk

♡ W weird habit:

When you're away too long and he misses you he'll take a sweater of yours or your perfume to smell your scent {it's so cute}

♡ Xmas:

He didn't really Christmas before he met you but he quickly realized how great a party it was

♡ Y you:

You are everything to him, he literally lives for you without you his life would be like a punishment for him ,you are his fucking reason to live so please don't break his heart

♡ Zzzz:

He loves to sleep and especially with you, he will snore and will surely take up all the space in the bed

Iiii hope you like it (^-^)/❤️