#Or gets all the approvals done within the hour

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic Idea: Marriage trap the Office supplier!

Danny had developed an appreciation for office supplies. He didn't know where it came from; just that one day, as he was cleaning his parents' office, he noticed their invoices and Order forms were out of order, so he chose to organize the binders.

It was just to make things easier to find the information when Tax season came around, but he found a strange joy in locating the correct stamps to mark each form.

Approved with a little thumbs up.

E-mailed with a flying envelope.

Entered with a little arrow.

Scanned with a picture of a scanning machine. Completed with a little check mark. Even the Cancelled and its accompanying x-out circle made him feel giggly.

Before long, Danny went hunting from some dividers and was excited to assign colors to certain tasks. He even made sure to separate everything by the order in which it was completed. By the time he was done, he realized he had no more use for his stamps, so he chose to go about the rest of the office.

He did not sleep that night. The next morning, the Fentons woke to their office lab in its best state since they had moved in. Everything had a place, and everything was neat and tidy with Danny happily explaining his organization system- all written down and marked on colorful legal pads he found shoved in a box.

Since then, Danny would excitably talk about the newest pen, sticky note, paperclips, or paper clamps he had found. Often, they were in strange shapes- "Look, Dad, these are sticky notes shaped like toast inside a Toaster holder!"- and no one could tell why it bought him such joy.

Even desk organizers excited him, often seen changing up his things every once in a while with new highlighters or traveling pens. His two best friends were often spotted walking behind Danny at any store within a fifty-mile radius of Amity Park that sold office supplies.

But that meant no one was surprised when Danny eagerly announced he would work in an office until he had enough money to open his own stationery store. What was surprising was that Danny somehow managed to find a job at Wayne Enterprise right out of high school as an office admin assistant.

A high-ranked one. He was the right-hand man to Bruce Wayne himself, working as a personal assistant then anyhting else.

It was clear across state lines no one knows how Danny even managed to land an interview since Mr. Wayne asked for at least a bachelor in office management to even apply or that Danny seemed unworried about living in a crime-infested city working for the man that was target a lot due to his wealth.

Danny only talked about all the superb brands of pens and notepads he would get with his new salary.

What was more shocking was how efficant Danny was at his job. He breezed through his work like a pro, getting Mr. Wayne on time every time (no one knows how) and cheerfully gaining the approval of the board.

Danny often stepped in for Mr. Wayne, Mr. Wayne-Drake or Mr. Fox, quietly becoming known as "Third-in-Comand" at WE despite the fact everyone knew him as "just the admin assistant"

He was also known for being very excited to show his desk to the office, covered in cute or interesting supplies from around the world. He spent hours schooling through websites and making wishlists of things he wanted to buy and try out.

Danny Fenton was a gift among the staff. He ran the office like a smoothly oiled machine, employing new systems and communication means that errors rarely happened in different departments.

WE genuinely feared the day he would leave the company to open that store. They tried to bride him by offering to pay his entire college career and make him a head of any department he wanted, or even officially give him Mr. Wayne's PA position but Danny insisted he wanted to open his store someday.

A plan was hatched by a low-level intern who had personally seen Danny take minutes with an invisible-ink pen and black light at his interview, only to witness the man fight for his right to have a paid internship and full benefits.

He mentioned how convient it was that Danny was close to every member of the Waynes. Yes. Bruce Wayne made it clear he would not be adopting the boy seeing as he was too old for that but what if....they ensured Danny stayed with WE if they made it the family bussiness?

Danny could still be a Wayne. They just had to get him to marry into the family, and WE could keep the embodiment of an office employee forever.

His idea spread through the company like wild fire, and not long, every single person who's checks were signed by Bruce Wayne was gunning for a chance to give Danny and a Wayne a wedding.

(Unknown to them, Danny is the hero Phantom, who, upon learning Batman's ID, instantly asked to work for him in an office setting because he wanted to open a stationery shop one day. Feeling blackmailed, Bruce allowed it, thinking he would catch Danny lacking, only to....find out the kid genuinely loved his job? And was good at it?

His kids are close to him as fellow vigilantes and are unaware of the WE employee's goal.

Danny just really likes Office Supplies. It might have something to do with his Ghost Obsession changing, or it's a Specail interest. He doesn't really care for the reason)

[tomriddleslovergirl]

Sleep, Beauty

Tom Riddle x Wife!Reader

Warnings: smut, p in v, oral (fem receiving), nipple play, fem reader, manipulation?

Word count: 1.3k

Summary: You had awoken to a bed without your husband, and went back to sleep with him beside you.

When you awoke, you found that the space on the bed next to you—where your husband’s sleeping body should be—empty. It wasn’t surprising, as Tom would often get up earlier than you to immerse himself in his personal studies of the Dark Arts.

He told you that he would like to be a Professor at Hogwarts, teaching about the subject, and you thought he was already more than capable enough of taking up the job. Tom has of course taught you a bit about the dark arts himself.

You squint, looking over at the small clock resting atop the bedside table. It was four in the morning. That was rather early.

Though you were tired, a curious spark lit up within you. What was your husband up to?

You shifted off of the bed, and quietly opened the door to leave your shared bedroom.

Voices from downstairs made their way to your ears. They were all male —perhaps two other men, not including Tom— and their voices sounded familiar.

What would anyone be doing here at such an hour, you wondered. Perhaps it was something important, an emergency. There was no other good reason!

You went back into your room, put on your robe, and then quietly made your way downstairs.

But, it was strange. Strange because when you made your way to the kitchen, there was only Tom, using his wand to clean some glass cups. (Tom has been teaching himself wandless magic, and has made a small habit of using it to do household chores. It at times has resulted in some broken glasses— though those are easily repairable with a flick of a wand. He must have been using his wand because he hadn’t wanted to accidentally break something, and wake you up from the sounds of glass breaking).

“Tom?” Your voice sounds deeper than usual, a result of just using your voice after sleeping.

He looked over at you, surprised. “You should be sleeping. Go back to bed,” Tom demanded, though his voice was as calm as a lullaby. “I’ll join you after I’m done cleaning up.”

You grabbed a cup that Tom just cleaned, filled it up with water, and gulped it all down in one fell swoop. After you finished, you placed the cup in the sink, so that Tom could clean it up again.

“I heard voices,” you said, watching him clean the last dish and place it in a cupboard.

Tom let out a small hum of approval. “Ah, yes. Malfoy, and Lestrange had come by to speak to me.” He took a step towards you. “Had we awoken you? If so, I’m sorry.”

“What were they here about?”

Tom grabbed your hand and pressed a small kiss to your palm. “Bed, Love. We’ll speak about this in the morning.”

“But it is morning time!” you whined, looking up at Tom.

He raised a dark brow. You were correct.

“You know what I mean.”

Tom pressed his body against yours, pinning you to the sink. He leaned down, and pressed a small kiss to the area where your shoulder and neck connect. He kissed up your neck until he made it to your jaw. Only then did he kiss your lips. He tasted bitter, though sweet as well, like a tart. Tom and his friends must have sipped on some wine while speaking about whatever Tom refused to tell you about at the moment.

The curiosity within you was slowly waning as one of your husband’s hands made their way to your waist, and the kiss got more intimate.

You pressed your head towards him, deepening the kiss, but he pulled away.

“I will not have you in the kitchen, if that's what you’re thinking,” Tom said, amused.

A scoff passed through your lips. “I was not.”

He grabbed one of your hands, encasing yours in his, and led you up the dark swirl of a staircase. A small feeling of excitement ran through your body at what was to come.

You entered the bedroom and Tom shut the door behind him, though only the pair of you lived in this house.

You crawled up the bed, and sat upright against the pillows, waiting for Tom to join you. As it was dark, you knew he had joined you once you felt a small dip on Tom’s side of the bed.

His hands tugged your robe off of you, and your nightgown was the next to go.

Tom gently pushed you, so that you were laying on your back.

He pressed a small kiss to your lips, though the hunger he had for you was radiating off of him.

“Be good for me.” A command that you’d always obey.

Tom made his way down your body, pressing kisses atop your body as he made his way lower.

Once he got to your breasts, he blew on one of the nipples, trying to harden it. Once it did, he took it into his warm mouth, gently sucking on the nub. Tom stimulated your other breast with his fingers.

Your back arched in response, and legs spread a little more, welcoming him in.

One of your hands clutched at his shoulder while the other grasped at the pale bedsheets.

Once Tom was satisfied, he gently bit at your nipple, before continuing to move downwards. He kissed down your stomach until he was finally faced with your vagina.

Like Tom did with your breast, he gently blew against your genitals. Your eyes fluttered, and your lower half pushed forwards against Tom’s face.

“Touch me. Please Tom,” You pleaded. Already, the mysteries of what Tom was planning with his friends had slipped out of our mind. Now, you could only focus on the pleasure he could give you. The pleasure you knew he would give you.

Tom kissed at your thighs, teasing you, but when he finally licked a stripe up your cunt, you wanted more.

Hands held down your hips to stop them from wiggling forwards. He dragged his tongue up and down your pussy, drinking in the fluid you produced—a show of your arousal.

You let out small moans, though they were replaced by a whine once he pulled his face away from you.

Instead, Tom used his finger to spread your slick across your vagina, before slowly inserting a finger into you.

Your eyes squinted shut, focusing on the feeling of his finger moving in and out of you.

Soon, another finger joined the first. He scissored his fingers, stretching you out to fit his cock in you.

His other hand focused on rubbing your clit, and before you knew it, you came. It was like a quiet storm. Your legs shook, and a thin sheen of sweat covered your body. Small, breathless moans escaped your mouth and were let out for Tom and yourself to hear.

Tom’s frame covered yours as he positioned his body over you.

“Do you think you can take one more?” Tom peppered kisses atop your shoulder.

You nodded. “Please. Yes.”

He smirked—though you could not see it— amused.

Tom was quick to rid himself of his clothing. He then grabbed his hard cock, and pressed it to your slit. Tom rubbed his hard cock against you, before inserting it in.

Your head fell back against the pillows, taking in the stretch. You lazily wrapped your legs around Tom’s waist.

Tom pulled out of you just to push right back in. He set a slow pace that he followed almost robotically.

Your eyes fell shut, focusing on how his cock filled you up perfectly. You were still sensitive from your last climax, though you could feel the next overcoming you.

Tom used one of his hands to stimulate your clit, and that’s when you break. White hot flashed through you, electric. You grasped at Tom’s shoulders, bringing him closer to you.

A small grunt escaped Tom’s mouth as he finished. His hips moved against yours a few more times before he was finally satisfied.

Tom quietly moved off of you, and tugged you towards him, so that your head lay on his chest.

“Go to sleep. I’ll clean you up.” He pressed a small kiss to your forehead, and did as Tom told you.

a/n: haven't written anything in a while😭 but decided to come back to a one-shot idea that I've had for a while now. I used this to also practice my smut writing skills as well😭 Comments are greatly appreciated and so are reblogs! Hope you enjoyed!

Tom Riddle Masterlist

[silovsmenot]

Bloody Nose | Matt Rempe

SUMMARY: During med school, your dad gets you a volunteer role with the New York Rangers to get some hands-on experience. On your first day, Matt Rempe clashes with Mathieu Olivier. WARNINGS: Mentions of blood & bruises. PAIRING: Matt Rempe x f! reader. NOTES: I don't think it's possible to not be feral for this guy. I'm sure this idea will have been done a hundred times before, but I couldn't help it. WORD COUNT: 1,600 FIND PART TWO HERE

It was not a role you were expecting as you were progressing through med school, in fact you never would’ve considered it if your dad didn’t know the general manager of the New York Rangers.

You needed some hands-on experience as part of your course, under supervision but in a real setting — while most of your friends went at found volunteer roles within doctors’ offices and hospitals where possible, you joined the medical team of the Rangers.

Of course, it was university policy that they had to approve the role, and they were quick to. You were not the first to find a role with a sports team, and you wouldn’t be the last. One student on the year above you spent a season with the Mets, which presented a whole different collection of injuries.

You didn't really know much about hockey, it had only been a passing interest as a child with your dad taking you to the odd game here and there ― you were certainly not a hockey fan but you were going to approach this with interest. And with how some of your friends publicly voiced their jealousy, you were becoming somewhat excited about the opportunity.

to expect. General hockey injuries ranged from the simple knocks, cuts and bumps to concussions, and everything in between. There was a lot that could happen, and you hadn't even considered the possibility of brawls yet.

In the early morning, you dressed into the simple uniform that you’d been given; a navy sports kit with the team logo and ‘team medic’ written simply across the back. You certainly looked the part. And with your hair tied back, you left your apartment for the airport. The medical staff travelled late to Columbus, and you’d be among them.

You’d already been introduced to the team medic, whose hand rose in a short wave at the first sight of you weaving through the small crowd. Simply relieved to see a familiar face within the flood of Rangers staff. In just under two hours, you were in Columbus, Ohio with a bubbling excitement.

For the whole ride to the rink, the senior medic talked you through your role. You’d take all of the ‘small’ injuries while he would be there for the more major, and any concussion assessments.

“Just be aware, Rempe likes a good fight — always be prepared to plug a bloody nose.” He sighed, giving your shoulder a friendly tap as he finally broke into a laugh. Excitement turned to a bubbling concern as you slowly nodded.

Players began to file into the arena, none having any idea who you were, but they did not question it. Staff came and went, and your navy Rangers tracksuit was enough to tell them that you were on the team.

There was one who’s eyes lingered a little longer than the others, and you felt your cheeks burning beneath his gaze. He must have been about a foot taller than you, shaggy brown hair and a mischievous grin that put a name to a face without even needing an introduction — this was Rempe.

You took your place at the end of the tunnel with the head medic, from there you’d watch the game, and be ready for any injuries that would come your way. Your heart was pounding as the puck dropped, this was for real and you silently pleaded that this would be a nice, calm game

But less than three minutes in, your eyes snapped up at the sound of the whistle — the gloves and sticks flying in different directions as two players grappled. You made no attempt to hide the rolling of your eyes as you grabbed the nearest towel, watching closely with each punch exchanged for any signs of blood. No blood meant they’d go to the box, you’d been told that much.

As the final punch was thrown, watching as the giant body of the Ranger was wrangled to the ice, none could miss the crimson that poured from his nose.

The head medic giving you the nod as you moved toward the gate ― a bloody nose was something that you could handle with your eyes closed, and he knew that. This was your one to handle.

You watched as the massive body of Rempe was skated to the bench by a referee, his eyes caught upon you once more as his lips curved into a pained grin. The crowd were going wild, stood on their feet as they cheered and screamed. It was your arm that he took as he stepped off the ice, the various hands of Rangers teammates tapping the 21-year-old on the back as you led him down the tunnel.

“Feeling okay?” You shouted over the cheers of the crowd as soon as you'd cleared the bench. You had to cock your head just to meet his eyes, his massive 6’8 body at your side. He almost flinched at the sound of your voice, the first words you’d spoken to him.

He didn't reply, he only nodded as he grinned, a bloody thumb raised for you to see. He was proud of himself and that was written clearly across his bloody face.

“Do me a favour,” You sighed, your hand pushing open the door to the medical room with the familiar pharmaceutical smell. “Warn me next time.”

That was enough to bring a laugh from his bloody lips, a bearish hand rising to wipe the crimson with a large smudge across his pale cheek. The red liquid was already everywhere, he’d need a blood jersey and you’d need a few minutes to clean this mess up.

“No promises, boss.” He teased in a whisper, dropping upon the medical bed with a thud. “What’s your name?”

You’d turned your back to him before he asked, collecting a cup of water and a handful of towels. It was well-timed as you felt that flushing of your cheeks almost instantly at his question.

“y/n, why?”

He sat completely still as you returned with hands full of towels are cotton wool, Matt had done this enough times to know what you’d ask him to do. His hand was already out and ready for the water that you’d give to him to swill out his bloody mouth.

“I’ve just not seen you with the team before … I’m Matt.”

You nodded in a silent ‘i know’, which made him laugh again. The pained grin seemingly stuck upon his lips as he watched you closely, every movement as if it were the first time he was seeing it — like he was seriously interested in the towels and the rolled wool. It was enough to bring that fluttering to your stomach.

He leaned forward onto his legs, bloody hands firmly planted upon his knees as he closed a gap between you. His voice no more than a whisper.

“Did you like my fight?”

You could feel his hot breath upon your skin as you stood, unmoving with a heavy inhale parting your lips. You were ready for blood and for broken bones, but you were not ready for this. Whatever this was.

“Do the girls normally like it?” You finally replied as you steadied yourself, brow rising in your own tease. Two could play that game, and you intended to play if he did.

Though he would not say it, your response drove him wild — that grin deepened as he leaned a little closer, his head cocking to keep your gaze tied with his own.

“They do.”

A slow nod, your hand placing the cup of water on the table beside him, your brow rose.

“How about you ask me when you win next time?”

It was far from the answer that he was expecting, but fuck — he liked the answer. He was resisting every urge to touch you, he sorely wanted to. Maybe it was the adrenaline of the fight, but you were very tempting to him.

You both, almost at the same time, broke into a shared laughter. His massive frame straightening up as he’d collect the cup of water, swilling the clear liquid before it would dribbling from his lips into the cup with a red tint.

“I don’t think you need me to do this for you?” You spoke with towels held toward him. He shook his head, taking them from you with a nod of thanks and began to wipe at the crusting crimson.

Things were quiet for a few moments, white towels turned red as his face became cleaner with each moment. The team’s kit manager would poke his head in with a clean jersey, which you quickly handed across.

You’d help him remove the blood-splattered jersey, catching a glimpse of his bare torso beneath the pads. Eyes were stuck upon the pale skin, which of course, he noticed. He liked that you were looking. Even as you helped him pull on the fresh, white jersey, his lips remained curved in the cheeky grin.

“You should come out for a drink with us after this.” Matt muttered with brows rising and falling, giving you a little nudge as he rose for the table and, once more, towered above you.

He crossed the room first, opening the door and holding it wide for you to exit first. As you walked through, you looked up with lips curved deep. You never expected to be glad of a fight, but you’d almost enjoyed wiping away all that blood.

“Maybe I will.”

[the-littlest-goblin]

Something that's stuck with me from the Arch Heart's appearance, which highlights a major underpinning of my frustration with C3, is the "Big Doors don't work" comment.

In what way exactly is the Big Door not working?

The purpose of the Divine Gate was to mitigate the gods exerting undo influence on mortal affairs, and according to everything we've seen in all 3 campaigns up to this point, this was a demonstrable success: the Calamity ended, and despite multiple potentially world-ending catastrophes cropping up since then, it has been up to mortals to deal with these threats. They've often done so with divine aid, but I fail to see how that's overreaching on the gods' part when accepting said aid is still dependent on mortal choice.*

Part of the Arch Heart's reasoning for wanting to "let go" is, as I understand it, because mortals continue to rebel against and resent the gods even from behind the Divine Gate. Which, yes they do, but like... the customer is not always right. Not every complaint needs to be catered to, especially the ones based on faulty postulates.

I get that this is not how the Arch Heart is thinking about it; my issue is not with the roleplay of individual characters, but with the narrative whole and the sheer amount of time it has spent, both in the text and extra-textual framing, sincerely entertaining the base axioms of an argument that is so poorly constructed Ludinus wouldn't make it past round one of a middle school debate club. None of the anti-god arguments have given any tangible evidence for the claim that the gods are an oppressive force or that Exandria would be better off without them that is not either:

A. Aeor, which was pre-Divine Gate and in fact the catalyst for the gods to pull back on interfering with mortal affairs, and therefore not all that pertinent to the current status quo;

or B. an event or action that, while it may be done in the name of the gods (e.g. Hearthdell) or directly encouraged by a god (e.g. Opal and the Crown) is nonetheless still contingent on mortals making choices, and therefore not a convincing argument that the gods are infringing on free will,** nor that removing them would prevent these types of situations.

An ongoing motif of C3 has been showing perspectives which challenge the prevailing narrative about the gods as established within Exandria's lore to this point. As a story enjoyer, I normally would eat up this sort of reversal—I love a metatextual play with in-universe narratives. But to do so convincingly requires more substance than a handful of characters going 'Trust me bro.' I'm going to need to see some peer-reviewed studies on Exandrian metaphysics before I take Ludinus "17 ulterior motives stacked in a wizard robe" Da'leth's word over what I've seen with my own brain over thousands of hours worth of game play.

If the message of the narrative is telling me to question the diegetic information it presents, then I am going to do just that. So far every argument that the gods do more harm than good for Exandria has been rampant citationless behavior. I find it baffling and borderline infuriating that we're approaching the denouement of this campaign and I still have yet to see evidence that the core conflict of the story, the central debate which has plagued every in-game and fandom discussion for a year now, is based on an actual problem. Like, at all.

*If you think Vax did not exercise his own agency and free will in every step of becoming Champion of the Matron, you are simply wrong.

**For real, we know there are magical means of straight-up mind control in Exandria. Like, you don't have to approve of it, but the gods engaging in standard issue verbal manipulation does not constitute a violation of free will, and it certainly doesn't make the argument that they are so immeasurably more powerful than mortals that they should not be allowed to exist.

[shhhsecretsideblog]

[Labor Denial, inconvenient birth] Imagine for a moment you're a professor at prestigious college. It's just the beginning of the final exam period of the year and your huge swell of twin belly has proven difficult to maneuver in your 38th week of pregnancy. Braxton hicks are a constant plague on you during the first and second day of finals and by the end of the third you're certain your belly has lowered a bit. At the end of the fourth day as you get ready for bed, a new and strengthened pain takes hold of your overstretched bump. It lasts longer than any braxton you had before, your belly even feels harder beneath your palms as it progresses.

You are still two weeks out from being full term and your doctor assured you that your babies had no interest in making an early appearance. Besides, there was no way you could miss the last day of exams, your employers would hardly approve.

In your mind, you decide these are just mildly more intense braxtons. Nothing more. You keep telling yourself this as the walk into the first test of the final day with a distinct, new pressure building in your low abdomen. You keep telling yourself it's nothing as you absentmindedly rock your hips during the first exam. You don't bother timing these pains; no need to time braxton hicks contractions. You ignore the growing pressure as students submit their exams. You ignore the slight wetness between your thighs when they shuffle out. You ignore the pain flaring in your hips as you shuffle to the next exam room.

All you need is to get through the next six hours of exams, go home, and get some rest. These pains were just the product of stressful times of exam season...

Keep Calm & Carry On

AN: thanks for a great prompt anon! Fpreg, labour denial, clothing birth. 2538 words.

Letting out a short grunt, I cup the underside of my low and heavy belly and arduously push myself up out of the chair. Being so heavily pregnant at the end of the school year, two babies wrestling in my belly, was no joke. Each week during my third trimester brought forth a new ache or pain and as I approached my due date I was regretting not taking early maternity leave. But the university was having staffing issues, there were barely enough faculty members to cover all the end of year exams as it was without me taking early leave. Plus I couldn’t exactly bow out now at this late notice. I couldn’t do that to all the students, they’d worked so hard.

So I grit my teeth and persevered through the long week of exams, through all the aches and pains and practice contractions. Only a few hours left on the final day and soon I would be at home resting for the double arrival. As I reached the exit of the now-empty exam room I had to pause and grab the door frame when another braxton hicks rippled across my taut skin. A groan slipped from my mouth and my knees slightly dipped as the wave built and built before eventually peaking with a lightning bolt of pain to my crotch. “Ooohhhhh… you need to s-stop t-this…” I muttered to the babies in my belly. “I know you’re practising for the main event but jeeze… mnnhhh… please just give me a break for a few hours.”

Unusually, the babies seemed to respond to my plea and after a particularly strong movement, with one baby’s head nestling deep within my pelvis, they settled quietly in my belly. “Phew, thank you. We’ll be done soon, I promise.” I dropped off the papers from my previous exam in the designated tray in the teachers lounge and picked up the stack of booklets for my next exam. After taking a quick breather, drinking some water and dampening the sweat from the back of my neck, I began the trek to my next exam in the hall on the other side of campus.

My body seemed to be practising for labour every few minutes at this point, each wave forcing me to stop and brace against a solid surface and breathe my way through them. I was grateful the students were all in their examination halls so the campus was empty, no one to see me hunched over my bump leaning against a wall.

“Hooohooo… oof! Come on babies, this is getting anno— annoying now—!” The weight between my legs was ever increasing, my waddle so distinctively wide it was almost comical, if not for the pressure and pain that came with it. I couldn’t stop the growl rumbling in my throat as my entire belly turned to stone and squeezed hard. The stack of booklets trembled in my hands and I was panting heavily. I wanted to go home, fighting these pains all day was draining all my energy, but I just couldn’t abandon the students. When the pain passed I fixed my expression and walked as determinedly as I could towards my next shift, my free hand rubbing the constant ache in my lower belly.

When I got to the exam I grit my teeth through the roll call and amazingly managed to walk up and down the rows of students to hand out the test papers, but my ability to stay standing was wavering fast and I plumped down on the chair behind the moderator's desk with a humph. My hands naturally gravitated towards my belly, my fingers splayed each side across the tensing swell, and I took measured deep breaths.

“Are you alright, Miss?” One of the students asked.

“Hmm? Oh, yes I’m fine.” I tried to reassure the student and keep my eyes from closing as the wave continued to build. “Y-you may turn over your papers and begin.”

The contraction built to astronomical heights and my face scrunched, silently bearing the pain of the worst braxton hicks yet. There was just so much pressure, my pelvis was screaming at me. Unconsciously my legs were wide beneath the table, my belly sitting heavily between my thighs, my hips tilting outwards in my slumped position. Thankfully the wooden desk had a modesty panel so the students could not see beneath the table or view my ridiculously widened legs.

One of the baby’s felt so damn low, as if one good sneeze would shoot them out, but I was sure the heaviness was simply a common feeling for being this advanced with twins. It couldn’t be as low as it felt, I’d have to be in labour for that, which I was not.

As time ticked on I barely noticed my body’s subtle movements, trying to keep my concentration focused on the students and their exam, ignoring all the aches and pains that my body was subjecting me to. I wasn’t even aware of when I started rocking forward and back in my chair, or when I lifted my hips off the seat…? Unconsciously I’d pushed my weight forward onto the desk, leaning on my forearms and elbows, subtly lifting my backside and easing the fiery ache building in my pelvis. God, this chair was torturous, I couldn’t find any position that didn’t make me want to scream.

Eventually I gave up on sitting, resorting instead to pacing the room keeping one firm hand pressed into my lower back while the other lifted my heavy belly. The students paid no attention, focusing on the exam papers, all too used to the moderators patrolling around the room and monitoring for any cheating.

The walking was helping the aggressive pains in my hips but it felt like the movement was bringing the baby down even lower. My breaths came thick and fast, my constant movements tiring my body but I couldn’t bear to sit back down in that chair. Another wild pain lashed across my middle and I was forced to stop my pacing, thankfully while I was at the back of the hall behind all the students facing the other way. My belly tightened, urgent and sharp, and I nearly doubled over but instead threw both palms out in front and braced against the wall. My hips were making wild circular motions that I couldn’t control and somewhere in the depths of my mind was a calling to squat down.

Fighting against my body’s instincts I clamped my mouth shut and panted through my wide nostrils. Fuck, it felt like one of the baby’s was coming out… but that couldn’t be right… I wasn’t in labour. But— but then why did I feel a need to push?! I glanced up at the clock, no phones were allowed in the exam hall, and saw I still had two more hours to go.

Two hours, I could do that. Even if I was in labour, a twin birth would take a long time. Everything was fine. I paced along the back wall of the exam hall, my fingers brushing the plasterboard keeping constant contact with a nearby surface to keep myself grounded and stable. Up and down I waddled, restless in my taut and tired skin. The waves crashing through my uterus every few minutes were creeping towards agony and I was finding it harder to stay silent. Just a few hours. That’s all I had to do. But the weight and pressure was sinking lower by the minute and I was having to bite down on my fist to refrain from groaning.

With just over an hour to go I noticed a hand go up at the front of the sea of students. Reluctantly I left my haven at the back of the room and waddled painfully down the row towards the person in question.

“Have you got any spare pens? Mine has run out.” They asked, their eyebrows pinching at seeing my exhausted and sweaty state. “Mmngg— sure.” I managed to grit and went back to my desk for the extra stationary. After providing the student with extra pens I barely made it back to the desk before the next contraction struck, a deep low groan escaping from my mouth as I curled forward and braced the wooden frame, my hips swaying instinctively against the pain.

“Oh my gosh Miss, are you okay?” One student asked in a panic. My only response was another deep groan, louder this time, as I battled the urgent squeezing that was shoving a baby’s head through my cervix.

“Shit! She’s having her baby!” One student cried out.

I shook my head frantically, trying to keep some semblance of control within the exam, despite the incessant tensing and building pressure. “It— it’s fine. Everyone back to your tests.” I tried to assure the students, even though I couldn’t move from my position gripping the desk. “I… it’s possible I’m in labour but… just carry on with your final exam okay. Labour takes hours, it’s— ooooh— it’s nothing to worry about.” The grin plastered on my face was entirely false, the pressure building between my thighs was telling me I might not have as long as I’d hoped.

Instead, when the contraction waned, I stood up and confidently sat back down at the desk and shuffled papers mindlessly and eventually the students went back to their exams. These babies were coming, I could feel it, the giant boulder in my pelvis was almost certainly one of the heads burrowing its way out of me. I straightened up, blocking any exit with the seat of the chair. Just an hour to go, I was going to make it.

I lasted 10 minutes before my determination faltered, the urge to push returning with a vengeance. There was no stopping it, my only hope was the uncomfortable but strategic position on the chair. As soon as the contraction began tightening my womb my body was bearing down uncontrollably. My head dipped, my chin to my chest, my fingers white knuckling the desk as I pushed. Fuck. The head was moving down, I could feel it as it inched lower towards the exit. I barely had time to catch my breath before my body pushed again, hard, fully leaning into the contraction and bringing this baby out whether I wanted to or not.

Through the incessant contractions and the desperate urgency of these babies to be born, I held fast to my position on the chair, blocking any exit with the seat. I was granted only a short reprieve before the next contraction struck and I was back to my silent pushing. I couldn’t make a noise, couldn’t distract the students from their graduating exam, but I also couldn’t do anything else to delay or stop the birth. I was trapped in this never ending cycle of pain. The head was right at my opening, bulging my sensitive lips into my underwear. I wanted to scream, to cry, to open my legs, but I couldn’t. One glance at the clock told me there was only 20 minutes left of the exam. I could make it.

My babies however, were not too keen on following my schedule, and even with my upright position I could feel myself opening around the head. This baby wanted out and it wanted out now. When the burning started I couldn’t help but widen my legs, throwing each thigh over the edges of my seat. My body kept on pushing, through every grievous wave of pain that squeezed my middle, and I couldn’t stop myself from pushing in earnest. The grunt that echoed my throat caught the attention of a few students at the front and I tried to offer a reassuring smile, desperately hiding the fact the head of one of my babies was crowning into my underwear.

When I let go of the push the baby retreated and sighed in relief. But this was short lived as I was back to pushing again barely a minute later. Fuck! I had no phone, a room full of students, and two babies that were desperate to get out of my body. In the short break between pushes the high-pitched ding of a bell sounded signalling the end of the exam. Everyone in the room looked up at me. My chest was heaving with laboured breaths, I gulped and managed to say “Pens down everyone. P-please leave your papers on your d-desks and exit the hall…”

The scratching of chairs on hardwood floors echoed the room as the students stood up and left the exam hall via the door at the back of the room. I was supposed to have collected each paper before dismissing them but there was no way in hell I could stand up. The next contraction was upon me before all the students left and I panted my way through the squeezing urgency of my rock-hard belly.

The crown of the baby’s head was getting bigger and bigger and the second the final student left, the door closing behind them, I let out a deep primal groan that I had been stifling for the past few hours. The head came to a full crown in my underwear and I sobbed and squirmed as everything burned white hot. Out. I needed this baby out of me!!!! With a forceful grunt I disappeared into a deep earnest push and birthed the head of my first child into my knickers.

“Mnnnnghhh… ohh god…. It’s out— the head…. Oh fuck…” With a trembling hand I felt the bulge of my trousers and the head that now sat at the apex of my thighs. “Why couldn’t you wait… just a bit longer guys?!” Before I could form any sort of plan or thought, another tightening rippled across my belly and I knew there was no stopping what was about to happen. Gripping the edge of my seat I bore down with everything that I had, the shoulders stretching me as wide as the head, and I wailed as I threw my head back.

“Oh my gosh Miss Jones…?” A voice came from the other side of the hall. I opened my eyes to see the headmistress in the doorway. “Grrrhhhh… babies are coming—!!!” I grunted and roared, pushing the shoulders out which was immediately followed by the torso of the first baby slipping out and down my trouser leg.

My colleague and boss rushed across the hall to me, wide eyed and panicking. “You poor dear, why didn’t you tell us you were in labour?” She asked, helping me pull the waistband of my trousers down so I could get to my newborn babe.

I couldn’t speak, in too much shock and trembling, an instinctual need to hold my baby was the only thing I was capable of. The infant immediately gurgled and cried as I lifted them up and placed them on my chest, wiping their face and checking every inch of my new baby.

“You did it, goodness, you had your baby.” The head teacher muttered in awe.

“Yeah… but mnnggh… I’m having twins, remember.” I grumbled, as I felt my womb contract again…

[leviraaaaaa]

In another life?

Levi stared at you from across the room, watching you as you distractedly fumbled with the straps of your gear. He watched as your fingers clumsily attempted to work with the clasp on your thigh properly, only for it to keep slipping out of your grasp, again and again, earning annoyed huffs from you. You were late, you knew. The others in the room had already cleared out, leaving only you as you struggled and Levi as he watched. But the more you tried to hurry, the worse it kept getting, the belts getting all tangled up with each other and you looked like you were about to cry.

He would've left by now as well, if not for you and your misery that made him stick around. It was very unusual to see you this unsettled, specially right before an expedition. Your hands were trembling uncontrollably. Levi felt frustrated only by watching you. Finally, he sighed and stepped forward.

“Call yourself a captain and you can't even tie your gear.” He muttered as he kneeled in front of you. Without letting you protest, he slapped your shaking hands away and took the strap to his own hands.

You were about to argue but when he shot a glare at you. You shut up. Even you knew when to be stubborn and when to be not and the clock that ticked away on the wall was a clear indication of what the choice should be. Therefore, you settled with a quietly mumbled curse but stretched out your leg anyway.

His expert hands worked fluidly, slipping underneath the belt and wrapping it around your shin. He pulled out one end and the leather grasped to your leggings.

“Too tight?”

“No.”

He did the other leg too, finishing the task you'd been struggling with for the past 15 minutes within 10 seconds. When he was done, his hand hesitantly reached up for for the ones at your thighs. He shot a questioning glance up towards you for approval and you nodded. This was no time for proprietary. He went back to work.

“What's on your mind?” He asked, glancing at you with gray eyes when he was done. In them, he had worry.

Everything. You wanted to say when you looked at him. Everything.

But of course you don't.

You shook your head, standing up. Wordlessly, you stepped around him, picking up the the sword sheathes hanging on the wall and adjusted them to your waist.

Levi stood up as well, brushing down his pants. He was about to tell you he didn't buy it. There was something wrong, he could tell, but before he could part his mouth, someone entered.

“Levi—Ah, I see you're here as well.” Erwin's deep voice reaches you as you turned. “Shadis is asking about your absence. We have about 5 minutes until we depart. Is everything okay?” Erwin's blue eyes found you as he asked the last question. Levi didn't fail to notice.

“Yes, sir.” You replied, a little too quickly perhaps. Levi's eyes narrowed. “I'll meet you out, sir.”

You sidestepped Erwin, in a hurry to leave the room. But just before your face disappeared, he caught the sight of absolute despair that was etched on your face.

.

“What's wrong with her?”

Erwin turned around, not surprised to find Levi on his horse, stanidng out of formation and beside him. “Levi.” He said pointedly.

“Don't be an ass, I'm going back in a minute.” He snapped. He knew Erwin knew something. “What the hell is wrong with her?”

“Hange says she's sick. Threw up in the morning twice apparently. Refused to have breakfast as well.” He shrugged.

Now that he thinks about it, sure, he hadn't seen you down at breakfast hours. He had just assumed you'd gotten in earlier.

Levi looked outraged. “And you're letting her out like that?”

“Levi, really.” Erwin sighed, looking at him. “Since when does she listen to me?”

Levi felt irritated. It was stupid of him not to realize Erwin must have told you to stay in. More stupid of him to not realize you had said no, like the arrogant shit you were.

“Put me near her.” He said suddenly. “Let Eld handle my squad.”

Erwin gave him a strange look. It made Levi self-conscious. “What?” He said defensively. He knew it was strange, fuck, but he couldn't think of another way.

“She can take care of herself." Erwin said. "She's a soldier, she knows what she's getting into. If she thinks she can handle it, why not have a little faith?”

“If she dies out there because she's too fucking stubborn, you'd be the one sorry.”

Erwin looked thoughtful. “Heart getting in the way of your head, Levi?”

Levi felt heat rushing to his cheeks. But Erwin cut him off before he could say anything.

“But yes,” He nodded. “I was going to tell Hange to keep an eye on her. But you don't listen to me either, do you?” He looked at him, the blonde man's piercing blue eyes searing straight through Levi's soul. “Do as you may.”

Do as you may. Levi thought about the words as he turned his horse around. Do as he might— for a friend. If that's what you were.

.

“Are you supposed to be here?” You asked tiredly, glancing at him when his horse stopped beside you.

“No.”

You frowned.

“Last minute change of formation.” Levi lied.

“Erwin didn't tell me.”

“Because he sent me here to tell you.”

You gave him a skeptical look. It was clear you did not believe him, but you didn't say anything else.

And that's how Levi knew there was something definitely, definitely wrong. Anytime else, you would've never let this go easily. You would've pestered him, annoyed him with questions, teased him, made every use of it until you got the answers you were looking for. Then you would argue. Bicker at him to convince you were okay so he left you. You hated the idea of getting help anyways, specially from him.

.

Expedition had started a while ago. Neither you or Levi had exchanged any words since then.

The two of you were on watch duty, perched on a tree as you scanned around for any upcoming titans, the smoke gun ready at your hand. A bland job, unsuited for both of you and very below your skill level. But you weren't complaining and you always complained.

You looked pale. There were bruises under your eyes and your lips were chapped, you looked fragile as a bird, a very exhausted bird.

And it was because Levi was watching you so closely that he noticed the exact moment your eyes lost focus.

The exact moment your muscles went slack and the grip around your swords went loose.

The exact moment your legs crumbled and you dropped forward.

And it was because he was watching you, because in his guts, he was certain there was something wrong and every inch of him was guarded that his body kicked in just the exact moment you tipped and he dived forward, catching you seconds before you crashed onto the ground like a broken ragdoll.

—

You were sitting at a table in the sidelines, watching couples as they swayed in rhythm to the melody of the piano all around the ballroom. You hummed along, tapping your fingers as you took a swig of your drink.

It was a ball hosted with a goal to fund for the scouts. It looked all fancy, but really under those painted and polite faces were twisted thoughts and sly hearts. You could feel the political tension thrumming in the air. And though you never really liked the social expectations to meet when attending these, it was fun to dress up and get a taste of the life of nobles for a night.

Shame that it's your last ever one.

You startled when the dark-haired man appeared beside you and sank down on a chair without a word.

"Tch." He clicked his tongue impatiently, plucking off a glass from the nearby waiter. He swung one of his legs over the other, his irritated face stood out bluntly amongst all the polite smiles and pleasantries. "How long do we have to stay here?"

"Levi." You smiled. He didn't return your smile, or even turned to look at you. He merely frowned, the slight wrinkles around his eyes indicating the foul mood was not at all uncommon for him. "Manners."

"Manners? If Erwin forces me to talk to one more of those stuck up rich bastards—"

"You're the star here. 'Humanity's Strongest' remember?"

"What a joke." He huffed frustratedly. "Don't call me that. It's like I'm a product being advertised to be sold."

"If you put it that way." You shrugged. Raw words, you thought. No false Incase of politeness. He said what he thought, no filters. Always. "The human miracle, the thug from underground that held talent like no other, the one who'd save humankind. Sounds like a pretty tempting investment."

"I will pour this on you I swear."

You giggled.

"Lots of admirers though." You tilted your head to observe the group of young girls huddled in a corner, ogling at him, giggling softly and pointing. Levi shot them a halfhearted, disinterested glance, which only made them squeal louder. He scowled.

"Won't fucking leave me alone." He mumbled.

You smiled, watching him as he fidgeted, fingers holding the wine glass by the strange way you've always seen him, by the rim. He looked out of place. In this grand room filled with colors and vibrance, he was dressed in black. Trousers, shoes, waistcoat, suit—it was all different shades of black. And even his eyes were a shade of gray. It contrasted against the paleness of his skin.

He was beautiful, you thought, watching him from the corner of your eyes. Beautiful. But there was an edge to it. Like the way the sharp edge of a sword glitters in the moonlight. Intimidating. Dangerous. Mesmerizing.

It only ever made you want to steal a closer look, to peer at his heart to see if his soul was as stone made as he appeared.

You've known him for so long, since the first he ever became a scout. Yet here, right now, in the midst of all this grandeur and with him looking like someone straight out of a novel, you felt like a little child. A lovesick little teenager getting her first crush. Not a scout who's killed titans. It always felt like that. With him. It was like hoping for the moon, and you're only just a silly, silly human.

You've known him for so long and you've grown so close, yet now that you look at him, he's never felt further away.

You were only just a girl when it was him.

Levi was cruel, there was no other way to put it. But yet, as you came to realize through the years, the unkind words he threw at your way sometimes, they were only just that. He didn't mean half of it, almost as if he said them only out of habit. He was kind too, you noticed. In the strangest ways. He'd let you pester him all day, make him help you with his work, forcefully make him listen to every gossip you learnt about, rant about your little romance novels, and in turn, sometimes, when you pushed, he'd even share glimpses of your own life.

You think the strangest thing was that about him. That he pretended he didn't care, that he hated listening to you rant but somehow he always remembered the smallest details, some of which even you forgot sometimes. Levi seemed to always notice the day you didn't sleep enough, when you looked too tired, when you felt uncomfortable.He’d remind you to eat, to take care of yourself, to rest.

From a young age, you had learnt to accept that life was always going to be too short for you. That it will never be enough. There will always be something more you'd need. And so you had forced yourself to keep everyone at an arm's length. Fuck around but never, ever fall. Because it'd hurt so much less when the end bell finally rang.

So what were you to do, when your heart starts to beat differently for that one strange, complex man?

You liked the way Levi looked at you. His gaze honest and clear. You liked how straight he was with his words.

It was nice. To be with someone so rudely honest. Because Levi looked at you as if you were you. And it reminded you that this scarcity of life you were given weren't all you were.

You were a living, breathing person.

Levi made you feel alive.

A voice cut you off your thinking. There was a man in front of you, trying to gain your attention. And you smiled politely, rejecting what was probably the dozenth of man who proposed to you for a dance. Levi glanced at the dejected man who walked away sullen.

"Won't you dance?" He suddenly asked, looking at you. "You haven't moved an inch since you've been here. I thought you liked this shit."

You only shook your head.

"Why not? You look like you want to."

You smiled sheepishly. "Not tonight." Not ever.

He sat up straight, finally turning to look at you. He put his glass down, his expression serious. Steel gaze searing through your skin.

"You're resigning." The words were a statement but it was also a question.

You stared at him.

"You didn't tell me." He said accusingly. "I had to find out from fucking Erwin tonight. Why are you resigning?"

There was genuine concern underneath, and that made your heart throb a little.

"Well?" He demanded, the hint of frustration lacing his usually cool, flat voice at the lack of answer.

"Sure you know, Levi." You sighed.

He raised an eyebrow brow inquiringly, looking confused.

"What? Is this because you passed out during the last expedition? You've been a wet rag ever since." He said. " Don't tell me you blame yourself for that and think you're incapable or something."

"I am incapable."

"Bullshit. It was this one time and it's probably because you skipped meals or something. You're better than half the other idiots."

Oh.

You realized suddenly as you met his eyes.

He doesn't know.

Levi doesn't know yet.

No one told him.

Erwin hadn't told him. Your eyes found Erwin's blue ones in a corner of the room. He gave you a slight nod, turning his focus back to the men he was conversing with. He must've thought it would be best if you told him yourself.

You felt despair.

You clasped your fingers, then unclasped it. The room was suddenly so cold. You can't do this.

Levi was still watching at you, waiting, his brows furrowed. He spared a glance at Erwin as well. You couldn't help but think how strange fate was. It pushed rose colored glasses onto you, granting you those soft beautiful moments and convincing you that, this is nice, this is perfect, you can live like this.

Until you're here. Until suddenly the delusions slip out and reality is a far, far tougher enemy to defeat than titans.

How do you tell Levi time was running out?

That fate was a cruel, cruel little thing.

“What's going on?” He said quietly, his shoulders tense. Like he could sense your feelings somehow. There was a subtle sign of panic in him at your silence. “What aren't you telling me?”

“Oh." You muttered tiredly, eyes downcast. He was staring at you, narrowed gray eyes. You looked almost sad, melancholic. "Don't you know?"

"What?" He blinked.

"Levi," You looked up, bracing yourself for the next words. "I'm dying."

Levi choked on his drink.

—

Levi hadn't seen you since then.

He didn't know what happened to you.

You had disappeared the day after, your office cleared of all possessions, and Erwin had only told him you had gone back home. He had no way of contacting you, no way of visiting you, no way of confronting you to ask what the fuck were you talking about. He could hardly focus on his work because that's all he could think about. You looking at him with those eyes, with the saddest face he had ever seen you make. He can't forget the words you said, how you said it. That's all he could think about.

So when he received the letter, your neat, elegant handwriting on the smooth paper surface, he was relieved. And worried. And surprised.

You had wrote only two words.

"Meet me?"

He frowned. Meet you where?

But when he turned to look at the envelope, turning it on his hand to check the sender's address, he froze.

Behind it, was the address of a hospital.

—

Hange was going from corridor to corridor, swooping through room to room to find you as Levi quietly follows. He felt nauseous as he walked. He never liked hospitals. Today, he hated it even more.

It didn't take long. Hange asked a few nurses and they all seemed to know you. Levi registered it numbly, how often you must've come here for everyone to know you by name only. He remembered the times you’d disappear without explanation. Was that for hospital check ups? How long had you been sick and he hadn't realized?

“Ah!” Hange's excited yelp broke him out of his daze. They disappeared behind an open door. “There you are!”

From the other side, he could hear a muffled voice. A voice he knows. He doesn't step in though. His hands are balled into a fist as he squeezed them in his pockets. It didn't feel real. This can't be real. There's no way you're on the other side of that door.

“No, Erwin couldn't come. He's been so busy but Levi—huh, where did Levi go? Wait, let me go and—” Hange's head pops back out. “Shortie, are you being shy? She's looking for you!”

Fuck. Was there still time to leave this fucking place?

But no, Hange knew. They were looking at him with the same excited expression but their eyes had a strange, determined look. You have to do this, they were telling him. For your sake.

So he did. He exhaled sharply and hoped for composure and walked in.

And nothing in this world ever could've prepared him for what he saw.

Just over the few weeks, your eyes had sunken to your face and your cheeks were hollow. And your face was pale, almost as colorless as the white hospital walls. There were wires attached to you, through your wrist, through your nose.

You looked broken.

But your eyes lit up the moment you saw him.

"Hello." You smiled.

And yet somehow, he thought, in the strangest way, you still looked beautiful. Now more than ever. Beautiful in a way that terrified him. It made him feel sick to his stomach. But he couldn’t look away.

He swallowed the dread down.

"You look like shit." He said.

You broke into a smile.

"Sit." You patted across a chair beside you. "Don't worry, I've made them disinfect the room twice. No germs." You reassured him, grinning. You knew him so well.

He said nothing, but silently took a seat

When you beamed up at him and his heart tugged. It took so little to make you happy.

Then you turned back to Hange, the two of you slipping to easy conversation. He doesn't know for how long. He kept his eyes on the floor. To look anywhere but you. He doesn't know when the time passed, but every once a while you would laugh at something Hange said and that's the only time he would feel conscious, your voice bringing him back. That's the only time he spared a glance at you.

You laughed the same. You looked in pain, but you laughed the same.

It went on for a while more, as the two of you chatted, discussing such casual things, none of you addressing him. He was grateful for it, to be ignored. Grateful to not be expected to be included in the conversation. It was hard enough to be here. He's not you or Hange. He couldn't pretend everything's fine and laugh about it.

But he could almost convince himself that everything was fine. Everything was fine. He was in the meeting room in the Scouts headquarters with everyone else and you were fine. Hange was shitting about military police and you were agreeing. Hange was telling you about titans and you were listening. And in this version, you were fine. You weren't here in this small, colorless hospital room, with tubes and needles going through you.

“Right. It's getting late, so I gotta go. I hope you feel better, girlie,” Hange's voice snapped him out of his daze as they pushed back on the chair to get up. He dully notices Hange's choice of words. Feel better. Not get better. “We’ll try to come by when we can. Make sure to drop by when you can as well. C’mon Levi let's go.” They nudged his shoulders. Levi felt relief. He needed some fucking air.

But Levi was only about to stand up when your fingers reached out to wrap around his hand.

“Levi.” You asked him, speaking directly to him for the first time in the hour. “Stay a while?”

He flinched when you touched him. He doesn't meet your eyes. Instead they find Hange's brown ones, who were watching the interaction closely.

“Sure Levi, why don't you accompany her?” They smacked his shoulders casually, but Levi didn't miss the intentional squeeze. “You don't have anything to do today anyway.”

Levi considered rejecting you for a second, considered making up some shitty excuse to escape this room and escape you, but then he looked at your eager expression and he found himself sitting back down. Levi could get low, but even him wouldn't go this low. He couldn't go that cheap. He couldn't be that much of a fucking coward.

“Wonderful.” Hange grinned. “Tell shortie to behave please. He'd been a mess ever since you left.”

“I will.”

Then Hange was gone. Leaving the two of you with each other and a chilling silence.The first confrontation in weeks.

He didn't think this room could get any more fucking suffocating.

He glanced down where your hand touched his. Your wrist looked so slender it was as if he could break it just by wrapping his hand around it. Skin and bones, that's all you were. Fragile.

"I'm glad you came." You whispered.

Levi inhaled sharply. You could tell him to jump off an edge right then and he'd probably do it.

For a long moment, Levi said nothing, just stared at where your hand rested on his wrist. His fingers itched to pull you closer, but he held back. He holds you gently, so gently, like you were made of glass.

Like you were the most precious thing he's ever held in this lifetime and now you were slipping away.

"I don't understand." He said suddenly.

You stayed quiet. You knew what he meant.

He felt angry at you. So fucking pissed. He felt betrayed. It's like everyone knew except him. Erwin knew. Hange knew. He didn't. Then you fucking spring this on him and disappear for weeks. And that wasn’t fair. That wasn't fucking fair.

“You could've told me.”

You looked down, letting out a soft breath. “I didn’t know how.” you admitted. You never wanted to see that look on your face.

Not yet. Even now that you'd told him, you wished you didn't. You wished you had a little more time.

Levi clenched his jaw, casting his eyes to the sterile white floors.

“When?” His voice was rough.

“Always.”

So you'd been sick. From the day you'd arrived. He felt hollow. In Levi's head, he could remember you. He could remember the first he'd seen you. You were dying then and he hadn't known.

After a pause, he spoke again, his voice carefully blank and face expressionless. Silver eyes devoid of all emotions as they looked down at you.

“How long?”

You keep quiet. Not long. You don't tell him that though. After a while, you spoke. “I don't know.” You said. “Days? Weeks? Months? Who knows. I'm not getting better.” You smiled.

He doesn't know what to say to that. How to respond to that.

He doesn't know how to feel.

"You were fine." He said, almost numbly. As if affirming it would make it true.

"No " You shook your head. "No, I wasn't.”

"You were fine. Even weeks ago. You were fine.” He repeated, shaking his head. He knew it was pathetic. He knew it was hopeless. He knew he was just lying to himself because hell, if he's got to accept this shit. He pulled away his hand from you, ignoring the hurt look on your face. “You were fine. You went out on expeditions. You fought titans. You sparred with Miche. You were fucking fine.”

"I'm sorry." You whispered. But he shot a heated glare at you. That wasn't what he was asking.

“The meds stopped working." You shrugged. “It was always going to. Eventually. It's surprising that it even worked for so long.”

Finally, after minutes of agonizing silence, he let out a tired breath. “Leave it to you to find the stupidest way to die.” He muttered.

You smiled weakly. “Pretty pathetic, huh?”

So much pain. He was in so much pain, you knew.

Levi doesn't show it, he refused to show it, but fuck, you knew him so well, it hurt. He cared so much. So so much.

You'd seen him hold on to a dead comrade for months. Everyone would forget them, not Levi.

Levi can't let go.

It was his eyes that gave it away. Never had he ever looked at you that way. His eyes seared through your soul like he was searching for an answer. Searching for a way, something to hold onto you with. Like he knew. He knew you were fading away. Like he could feel the emptiness you felt with every breath. In his eyes, you saw the most subtle glimpse of despair.

The more you looked at him, the more you felt vulnerable. Something was breaking inside you at the sight of him. Every bit of desire you'd locked away was strangling your heart.

He was here, with his dark hair falling over his face and the silver gleaming through his half lidded eyes and shit, he was so beautiful. Since the day you met him. You felt so soft when he looked at you. So fragile.

You yearned. So badly. Would it be so wrong?

“Do you think I'm pretty?” You asked him.

Levi was confused, caught completely off-guard. “What?” His asked uncertainly?

“I want to know.”

“You want to know if I think you're pretty?”

“Yes.” You smiled.

“Do you always have to be so unserious?”

“Yes.”

Levi blinked. Then sighed. You and your fucking theatrics. “You’d think someone who's dying would ask smarter questions.” He muttered under his breath.

You held your gaze. You wanted him to answer.

Levi balled his hand to a fist. His fingernails digged into his hand. He knew he couldn't lie. Not when you were looking at him like that.

“...I don't know.” He exhaled softly. “Sure, I guess. You keep a neat face. I suppose you don't look that shitty.”

“Even now?’’ You looked at him pointedly.

He stared at you. You and your sunken cheeks and your fragile hands and your tired eyes. You looked ethereal.

Even now.

“Yes.”

You thought you might cry. It hurt. It hurt more because you knew he was being honest. You could tell from the way he was looking at you. He still saw you in the brightest light.

And that sums up the kind of person Levi is.

You're pretty, Levi. You want to tell him. You're so fucking pretty, did you know that?

You don't though.

But he did look so fucking pretty.

You felt sad suddenly. All those fucking years he chose to be a nonchalant bitch. He chose to act like he doesn't give a fuck. And now that you're here, to the end of your lifeline, now he was gonna look at you like that?

You can't do this.

You thought you could, but no. You overestimated your strength. You thought you could handle this. You thought you were strong enough, strong enough to be with him like this, strong enough to handle the way he was looking at you. But no. You should've never called him here.

You can't do this.

He has to go. For your sake. And for his.

“Levi.”

“What?” It was so unfair, you knew.

“Leave.”

His eyes widened. But you held your gaze.

Levi was startled at the sudden shift of mood, the abrupt turn the conversation took. He stared blankly.

“I want you to leave, Levi. And never come back.”

His mind felt empty. There was something strange in your eyes, a desperation. You were looking at him like you wanted him to understand something. Like you needed him to understand. But he didn't understand. What was happening? Why were you saying that?

“You don’t mean that.” He said flatly, after a stretched pause as he waited for an explanation. He looked as calm as ever, but you could see the confusion in his eyes.

You sighed, turning away and leaning back on your headrest. You refused to look at him.

“Did I do something wrong?” He pressed when you didn't respond.

You shook your head.

“I don't want you here anymore.”

“Why?” His voice was so blank but shit, you could just feel the strain underneath.

“I don't want you here anymore.” You repeated, closing your eyes. “I don't want you to see me like this.”

“You don't get to decide that.” He said, his voice harsh and laced, now with an anger as he started to realize where this was going.

“I can actually. I call the nurses. They kick you out.”

“You're being stupid. I can't just—” He sounded frustrated. “I can't just leave you here alone.”

You shook your head again.

“What the fuck? You're the one who brought me here. You're the one who wanted me to stay."

You did, didn't you? What were you thinking? Steadying your expression and masking the absolute heart wrenching pain you were feeling, you looked at him.

“I'm not going to let you do this.” You said calmly. “I'm gonna get worse. And then I'm gonna get worse. More and more. And you're gonna hate it. I'm not going to let you do this to yourself.”

He stared at you with disbelief.

“Let me go, Levi.” You whispered, your voice cracking. “You can't save me. Not this time.”

—

Well, you were a fucking idiot if you thought he was gonna give up just like that.

He wasn't going to leave you like that. In that soul less, lifeless, shitty ass hospital room, tied up to fucking machines and whatnot. He wasn't going to leave you there all alone. You're insane if you thought he was going to.

But he did leave you alone for the two weeks. He's known you too long. You get mad when people doesn't listen to and throw this big pissy rampage and Levi, for one, did not have the mood to deal with that and two, he suspected it would not be good for your health. Another reason is the hospital’s too fucking far from the headquarters. It took so much time or else he would've come earlier. He couldn't focus shit on his work because all he'd been thinking about were you and all he did was wait for another mail where you apologize and take back your words and ask him to come and visit again. You didn't.

He still showed up today, though.

With a bouquet of flowers in his hand. They felt heavy surprisingly. It was sappy as hell and he kept cringing internally everytime he looked at it. Fucking hell, he'd never though this day's come.

He looked up. It looked like it was going to rain today.

Then he braced himself. Knowing the stubborn shit you were, you were bound to throw out a reaction. But he hoped you'd forgotten about it. Hence, also the flowers. Hopefully, they'd be enough to calm you down. But frankly enough, he didn't give a fuck about your stupid reasons. For his own sake, he had to be there. He had to be with you.

So he stepped into the hospital, taking in a deep breath once the sterile scent kicked in.

He retraced his steps the last time he'd been here, taking the steps slowly. When he reached the floor you were on, he set off to the left corridor, trying to remember which room was yours. But he finds it soon enough, the familiar door.

He took a deep breath, the scent of hospitals making him suffocated. He felt nauseous again. He wondered how you looked now. Was he strong enough to do this?

Were you right? Maybe for his sake, he shouldn't be here. His heart pounded so hard against his chest and he couldn't breathe.

Fuck it.

He stepped in. Then halted.

Empty.

Everything was empty.

The shelves. The table. The bed. Every inch of the room sparkled like someone had just cleaned it recently, the scent of disinfectant hanging on the air. The last time he'd been here, there were those weird romance novels you used to like, piled on the table. All of them were gone. The bed was made up, white sheet spread smooth with the corners folded and the pillows fluffed. Like no one had ever laid there.

Like no one had ever been in this room.

“...you're…Captain Levi, aren't you?”

The soft voice startled him. He jolted, turning around to find a young girl looking at him curiously, reddish hair peeking through her blue nurse cap. He recognized her. He'd seen him the last time he was here, she was the one who showed Hange and him to your room. Her hazel eyes softened when he turned around.

“She's told us a lot about you.” She said, explaining.

Levi doesn't talk. He doesn't blink. He doesn't breathe. His hand gripped onto the bouquet harder.

“Has she been moved?” He asked, his voice harsh. He tried to steady it but his hands were sweaty and his heartbeat was rising. “Do you know where she's—”

But she was looking at him sadly, and Levi knew. Levi knew then.

The ground underneath swayed slightly and he found his eyes travelling to the floor. What was he doing here? Why did he come here today? He needs to leave leave leaveleaveleave—

He didn't need to hear the words from her, he already knew. He looked down to his hands, which were shaking slightly. The bouquet was almost haphazard from how tightly he'd been holding them. They felt heavier.

“She said you'd come back.” She told him, looking at him pitifully. “Come with me, please.”

Levi followed her. He didn't know why. He didn't even want to know why. But his head was empty and he could no longer form a thought. He could no longer think, only do what he's asked.

He didn't process where she's leading her, but then they're standing in front of a room. She tells him to wait and goes back in. Levi waited. He doesn't know for how long. Time meant nothing anymore.

She came out a couple seconds later, an envelope in her hand. She holds it out to him.

“She told me to give you this. She asked me to keep it. I told her she should just mail it but she insisted you'd come back.” She let out a soft sigh.

For a second, Levi doesn't do anything.

He stared at the paper in her hand blankly, unable to process it. His eyes hurt from staring, but in the back of his head, he already knew what it was. He should be curious, intrigued. Sad. Something. Anything. He shouldn't be this numb. But he couldn't show a reaction. He felt so tired. He stiffly reached out, taking the letter from her hand

He vaguely registered the elegant scroll of your writing on top of the white surface. To Levi, it said.

The girl looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to respond. To ask. To react. But when he didn't say anything, she looked almost disappointed.

“That's all, then.” She tells him, giving him a polite nod. “I'm sorry for your loss. I will be heading back now.”

Levi didn't say anything.

It's only when she's walking away, when she's getting further and further, he remembered something.

“Wait.” He called out, his voice hoarse. He has to ask. He needed to ask. He must know.

She stopped, turning back.

He let out a shaky breath. He needed to know. “Do you know when…” He inhaled, his voice was shaking, shit. He steadied it. “When did she…?”

He doesn't need to finish his sentence, she already knows. She looked at him. “Not long.” She answered kindly. “It’s been 3 days.”

3 days. You'd left the world 3 days ago.

“Did it..” He tried to find the right words to say. He remembered how you winced everytime you moved. “...was she in pain? When she passed?”

She shook her head. “No.” She said. “It was peaceful. She had a smile on her face.”

Right. Of course you fucking did.

Barely aware of his own actions, he turned to walk away. He needed to get out of here.

“Actually..” She started again, her voice hesitant, stopping Levi in his tracks. Like she wasn't sure she should say this. “The last word she said…it was your name.”

He can't breathe. “What?”

“‘Levi.’ she said.” The nurse told him with a soft look. “'Levi' was the last thing she said.”

—

Levi,

I knew you'd come back.

You stubborn fucking asshole. You were never going to listen to me in the first place.

Are you angry at me? You are, I know. You have every right to be. I know you're so mad at me right now and probably cursing me, but I couldn't let you be there. I know it's so cruel of me. But believe me, I had no choice. For my sake. For my sake, I couldn't let you be there. I couldn't let you see me die like that.

You have to understand. I was so scared, Levi. So terrified. And the more I looked at you, the more scared I felt.

I didn't want to leave you.

I don't care about rotting in a grave somewhere, Levi. I just didn't want to leave you.

You'd think after knowing from birth that you were going to die soon, you'd learn to not be afraid of it. You'd think being in the scouts, where everyday was a gamble, you'd learn to not be afraid of it. And I did. I swear I did. Death didn't scare me anymore. That's why I did so well in the scouts. You used to call me reckless, but there's no point of being scared for a life you were going to lose either way, was there?

I thought I could do this. I thought I could get over it. I thought I didn't have anything to lose.

But then I met you.

You with your stupid fucking ego and your stupid fucking attitude. You with the stupid hair and you with the stupid face. You with the prettiest eyes I've ever seen.

And it scared me so much. So much. What I felt for you. This constant yearning to be near you. I had so little time. All I ever wanted was to be with you. But I had so little time.

I'm sorry for always annoying the shit out of you. But I had so little time. I had to make the most of it. But as it turned out, it was never enough. It was never going to be enough.

The day the meds stopped working, the day I passed out on that expedition, the day the doctors told me there's nothing they could do anymore, the first thought I had was, “I can't be with Levi anymore.”

Not “I'm gonna die.”

But it was you I thought of.

It's so strange, isn't it? I've spent half a lifetime in hospitals and tied up to machines, having to take dozens of meds everyday just so my organs would keep functioning. I was so tired of it all, all I wanted was for it to end. I waited so eagerly for the day it'd all stop. But now that we're here, I'd do anything, I'd do anything to spend one last day with you. One last hour. One last minute. I'd give up anything to go out on one last expedition with you. Just to hear you call me a ‘suicidal fucking psycho’ again. Just to hear you get mad at me again. Just so you could lecture me. Just so you could smack my head and tell me what a fucking dumbass I am. Just one last time, for you to wrap my wounds with the gentlest hands.

I hope you know you changed everything.

You gave me my life back.

And I will owe it to you for eternity.

I'm rambling, aren't I? I don't know how much longer I have, at best 2-3 days. My lungs are going to shit and I've been tied to a nebulizer the whole week. I can't even hold the pen properly because my hands are shaking so bad and it hurts to even write. But I want to. I want to write. I want to tell you so much stuff, to tell you everything, to tell you anything. Shit, I wish you were here. It hurts to breathe, Levi, and I wish you were here. It always hurt so much less when you were here.

I think I'm going to stop here.

I can't fit a lifetime of unsaid things in one letter, could I?

Tell Hange I love them and tell Erwin, I said thank you. I'd write them letters as well if it didn't hurt so bad, so you're gonna have to relay it for me.

Don't be mean to Hange, okay? You know they love you. Let them take care of you. Let others take care of you. You don't have to be the strongest all the time. It's okay, I swear it is. It's okay to let go. It's okay to be selfish. You're gonna be okay, I promise.

I'm going to write one last thing. It's okay if you get mad at me for this, I deserve it. But I really needed to say this. I really wanted you to know. I'm just sorry it had to be in one shitty letter.

But I need you to forgive me, Levi. I'm sorry that I'm so much of a coward that I never said it to you when I had the time. I'm sorry that this is how I'm letting you know.

I really like you. You have no idea, do you?

You're such an asshole. But you're the most lovable asshole I've ever met.

It wasn't much of a life, but I hope you know that I've loved you with all of it.

If Hange's theory of multiple realities is true, I hope I get to meet you in every one. I hope you're my friend in every one. I hope I get to fall for you in every one.

Matbe I'll see you again. In another life, perhaps?

This time, I would do it right. This time, I wouldn't do this by a stupid letter. This time, I would say the words, true and honest, with every bit of my soul.

I love you, Levi. My heart failed to keep me alive but it never failed to love you.

With the little life I was given, I've loved you with all of it.

Till my last breath.

Sincerely.

P.s. I don't know if you found it, but I've stashed a bunch of those green tea you like in the bottom drawer. Parting gift.

—

Levi stood before a tombstone.

It was gray, like the sky. It was definitely going to rain.

He'd been standing here for a while now, in the cemetery, the letter clutched to his hand, the bouquet still on his other hand. The flowers were all wilted now, but the air still smelled like roses. The grave in front of him was fresh, it was obvious it's barely a couple days old. There was a name etched on the stone, a name he's known for so long. A name he knows so well.

Strangely, it didn't hurt. He didn't feel anything really. There was a strange vacancy in his chest, a voidness where his heart should be. He felt empty, like he lost a part of him somewhere.

He glanced at the letter again. It was wrinkled now, from how hard his fingers been clutching it. He glanced back at the last few sentences and he felt that familiar tug in his chest again.

Levi's head felt empty.

Out of all the ways he'd thought he might lose you, this wasn't one of them.

Out of all the scenarios he had ever imagined where there would come a time he had to lead a life without you being a part of it, this wasn't one of it. This was never one of them. Losing you like this was never one of them.

Being a scout meant there were no tomorrow's. You go out with the expectation of never coming back. And he knew that. Death was reality.

Yet. Wasn't that why he'd always been careful to stick around with you? Always making sure your gear was working, your straps were tightened, your swords were sharpened. Always looking for you first the moment the missions ended. Always the team he'd make Erwin pair him with. Because he thought as long as you were in his sight, as long as he was near enough to see you, you would be okay. He wouldn't let you die. All that for what if this is how it turned out?

Vaguely, he remembered his mother. Here he was again, after years. Nothing changed.

This was the one place his strength meant nothing. Nothing.

Him being humanity's strongest changed nothing.

“Fucking idiot.” He muttered quietly. “Don't even have the guts to say it to my face.”

He swallowed down the bitter taste in the back of his throat. What was he doing? Why was he talking to himself?

He felt angry. Angry at you. Angry because all you needed was to say it. To say it and he would've given up everything. He was angry at himself too. Who was he to condescend you when he was no better himself? When he never had the guts to say it as well?

At least you got to say your piece. Now he'll never get to.

“Fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair. He felt restless. It was so fucking unfair. So, so fucking unfair. He had so much to say. So much he's never told you.

He never even got to say goodbye.

He sighed. Looked down to the bouquet. Then to his own surprise, he crouched down, laying the flowers gently on the stone surface.

“I hope you like them. They're all dead and shit now but,” He swallowed, his hands shaking.“Parting gift.”

His touch lingered, softly caressing the carvings of your name, tracing the familiar letters. His fingers shook when he reached the deathdate.

Finally, finally, it started to rain. First, a couple drops caressing his face, and then the sky was grieving with him, crashing onto this world and onto him. He was drenched in a second, his hair sticking to his forehead and his clothes sticking to his skin. He stood up, broken from his daze. He stuffed the envelope down the pocket of his jeans and hoped that was enough, but it was already half wet. The one last thing you'd left him and he couldn't even keep it in piece. He was well and truly an idiot.

He spared a glance at the sky. He wondered if it was the rain that made it all seem so black and white. Or maybe you had sucked the color out of this world when you passed.

He sighed. Does it matter anymore?

But he moved anyway, standing up and turning away.

He can't stay here forever.

He has to go back. Go back to the lifeless foul walls of the headquarters and his stuffy office. He had a shit ton of paperwork he needed to get done. He had to handle his squad. He had to prepare for next week's expedition. He had so much to do. So much to do.

He wondered vaguely how he was going to tell this to Hange.

But he continued walking, hands stuffed to his pocket, grabbing onto the letter. He doesn't look back.

Leaving half his heart on the stone where you lied beneathe.

[lokischocolatefountain]

Sundress

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Rating: 18+ (Fluff, slight smut, no angst for once, slutshaming but not how you think)

She laughed freely at something his cousin said, all her nervousness from their journey to Texas leaving her little by little when his family embraced her as one of their own within minutes of meeting her. Oh and the alcohol helped too. He took her hand and played with her fingers as he sipped on his beer, smiling as he felt himself relax in the presence of the people who knew him the best.

It was unbelievable really, being back in Laredo not as the former sheriff who ran out on his bride but as a federal agent with a beautiful woman on his arm wearing his ring. She was here in a pretty sundress, sitting on the sofa in his home, laughing with his cousins as they shared embarrassing stories about him. Pops loved her, just as he expected and he just knew that if Ma was alive, she would love her too.

It could’ve just been his beer-addled mind, but he was so happy with her right there, right then that he would quit his job and just keep her right there in Laredo. He never liked the damn place, always wanted to break free and run off to explore the big bad world. But he also saw the appeal of a small town as he stared into the old picture of his parents on their wedding day. He wanted love like that. And he had it. He wanted to take care of the ranch with her, work where he lived so that he could slip into the house whenever he wanted to kiss her senseless. He wanted to wake up in the morning without worrying about going elsewhere for work and just bury himself in her warmth, make sweet love to her, have the big family he’s always secretly wanted.

“Why can’t I have a baby brother?” He recalled asking his parents, wishing to have a playmate at home. They’d tried. For many many years, they’d tried. But he didn’t know that. “It’s because you’re a naughty boy and I don’t have time for more naughty ones.” Ma said, pinching his cheeks before getting back to work with the newborn foal.

All his cousins had siblings and though he was close enough to them to not long for more kids his age to play with, he was jealous of them and angry at his parents. So he told himself all those years ago that when he was old enough, he would give his son a lot of little siblings to play with. It was stupid and childish really, but the sentiment hadn’t worn off over the years. He would like a big family someday. When they were away from all the dangers his job brought them.

Family and friends flitted out one by one, making Javier grateful that he didn’t have to kick them out to take his fiancé to bed. He loved his family and all but he had been around her for hours without being able to touch her inappropriately and that was getting to him. Kicking his family out to fuck his girl wouldn’t have been nice. And it wouldn’t have done well for his ‘Javi who left his fiancé at the altar’ reputation.

“I really like them,” she giggled as she cuddled into him on the sofa. He pressed a kiss to her lips and pulled back to find her smiling wide. He smiled back, unable to resist the infectious effects of her smile.

“Good. And they like you too. Especially pops.”

“Wooo!” She pumped her fist in the air, making him laugh. “‘S nice to have my future father-in-law’s approval.”

“Yeah well, let’s not rub it in my face,” he grumbled, recalling how unimpressed her father was with him. But he couldn’t fault the man. If his daughter came home with a guy who got shot at everyday for a living, he would be more than just unimpressed.

“Aww, Pobrecito,” she cooed before pressing wet kisses to his cheek. “He’ll come around. He’s just annoyed that you would be such a slut and have sex with his daughter under his roof before marrying her.”

“And whose fault is that?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. She’d teased him all day, fucking grabbed him beneath the dinner table while carrying on conversation about work with her family.

“Whose fault?” She asked, making her eyes all soft and sweet just like the night she sneaked into the guest bedroom of her family home and begged him to fuck her. How was a man supposed to resist those sweet eyes and their filthy requests that contradicted their innocent act?

“Yours.”

“Mhmm?”

“Mhmm.”

“Okay then,” she said, smiling sweetly. Nothing good came out of that innocent act. “I’ll be a good girl tonight. I’ll take my bag to the guest bedroom. Sleep there for our entire week here.”

He rolled his eyes at her and snatched her bottle of beer before emptying the contents in one gulp. He wasn’t going to let her off the hook that easy.

“Rude!”

“Better rude than cruel, you absolute demon of a woman.”

“Cruel!? How dare you! I’ve been on my best behavior all day. I made your family fall in love with me faster than you made my family tolerate you. Miguel loves me so much that he would marry me if you didn’t. Linda invited me on a shopping trip and José didn’t move from me for hours.”

“José is two,” he said, laughing. Babies loved everyone, right? They were just innocent little creatures who loved everything. Or that was just what he told himself when his base instincts told him to take her to his room and put a baby in her immediately.

It wasn’t his fault. It was the goddamn sundress making her look all sweet and homely and just like something he’d want to put a baby in. He was going insane. Just the sight of her fitting in so well with his family and cradling his cousin’s kid while wearing a ring that declared her his was enough for him to stop thinking practically about all the things they needed to get out of the way before having kids.

“So? He loves me. I’m just so dang lovable,” she said, poking his chest with her index finger. “Not my fault that I’m perfect and you’re a big grump my father doesn’t care for.”

“He doesn’t hate me for being a grump. He hates me because he heard his innocent little girl screaming my name at night.”

“Asshole!” She gasped and shoved him away from her, but he returned right back and kissed her on the lips. Before she could call him more names, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, laughing as he felt her grab his ass immediately. Becoming boring was one of the reasons he didn’t want to get married, but with a girl like her who wanted him so openly, there wouldn’t be a boring day in his life.

“You make me fuck you in your family home, I get to have you fuck me in my childhood bedroom,” he said, carrying her to his room.

“Around all the posters of half naked women?”

“You offended, baby?” He asked, slapping her ass. He wasn’t the half naked women plastered all over his walls kind of guy anymore. But it made him feel giddy to think she might be…jealous?

“Nope! Just regretting taking down my John Wayne and Sydney Poitier posters. I had a John Wayne poster where he’s on a horse, wearing a cowboy ha—” she gasped as he dropped her on his bed.

“He was just a fake cowboy, baby. I’m the real deal. Got a ranch and all. I’ll put on the clothes if you want me to. Get on a horse, wear the damn hat. You want that?” He asked, hovering over her as she unbuttoned his shirt.

“I don’t know, Javi…” she tutted, twirling his hair around her finger. “You might look like a clown in it since you gave up the cowboy life to be a slut in Colombia.”

“I gave up the cowboy life to chase Escobar,” he corrected, giving her a pointed look.

“Yeah, but you spend more time being a slut than chasing Escobar.”

He pinched her ass, making her shriek and slap her hand over her mouth. “Javi! Don’t make me scream. I don’t want your dad to think badly of me!”

“Oh that’s one thing I can’t do, baby. Making you scream and making you cream comes naturally to me,” he said, making her gasp in horror. She had no reason to react so dramatically seeing that he’d definitely given her worse lines in the past. But it was fucking cute.

“Slut,” she chided, pushing him away but then pulling him down to her immediately. She gave him a peck on the lips before blessing the rest of his face with her kisses. It had him smiling like a kid, laughing like he used to when he was a permanent resident of this room.

“How many girls you fuck on this bed before me, Peña?” She asked as he shrugged his shirt off and got to work on her sundress. She looked pretty as hell in it, the white cotton with lemons printed on it giving her the look of the chaste woman she was not. But she looked the part in front of his family, hair down and neatly combed, pink on her cheeks and lips, and a pretty dress that made her look the part of a fiancée any group of Tias would approve of.

“You’re the first. The only one,” he said, pushing the elastic off her shoulders and kissing the swell of her breasts. He breathed in her distinct scent mixed with her sweat and took her breast into his mouth. She tasted salty from sweating, but he was not one to be disgusted by that. He came home to her sweaty and disgusting every damn night and she took him anyway. He buried his face between her breasts and took in her scent, groaning as his cock twitched in response.

Images of her with her knees bent by her head, still wearing the damn sundress as he drilled into her cunt filled his brain.

“Riiight. Totally believe that,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“You don’t trust me? You’re the only girl— woman, on this bed.”

“I don’t believe you. I know for a fact that you were a slut in high school.”

“Oh I was,” he agreed, hand diving beneath her skirt. “But I never brought girls back here. I sneaked into their bedrooms and sneaked out when we were done.”

“Of course you did,” she laughed, fucking herself on his fingers. It was sweet, having her in his family home, learning more about him and being delighted in what she found.

“It’d been a fantasy for a while actually, to bring a girl home, sleep with her on my bed. I just hated having to pull my pants up and run out before my girlfriend’s parents caught us and shot me.”

“You absolute menace!” She scolded and shook her head. He wondered if she would’ve given him her time of day had they gone to school together. He was quite the lanky kid with none of the muscles of his current body that she loved so much. He didn’t have much game either, not enough to impress her at least. She was a big city girl and all he knew at fifteen was Laredo and its oppressive walls. The Agent Javier Peña of now had slipped a diamond ring on her finger, but Javi from Laredo would’ve made a fool out of himself trying to get her to just talk to him.

Or not.

Maybe she would’ve liked him back. Maybe stupid boys with the worst pickup lines and too much confidence were her teenage self’s type.

“Would’ve sneaked into your room too,” he teased, bunching her skirt up at her waist before sucking her clit between his lips.

“Javi!” She squealed and not from pleasure. He apologized for hurting her with his desperation and placed a gentle kiss on the nub.

“My dad would’ve killed you for sure,” she said, running her hand over his arm. He flexed his muscles for her benefit and she took his offer, lavishing his arm with attention before moving a hand down his back as far as she could reach.

“Worth it for this pussy.”

He spent the night with his head between her legs, making her cry his name into her hand and then his pillow. In his head, he gave Javi from two decades ago a pat on the back. He’d gotten out of Laredo like he always wished, no matter the circumstance. He landed a pretty girl who wanted to fuck just as much as he did. He had love like his parents. He’d have a wedding he wouldn’t walk out on and someday maybe the grandchild his dad mentioned in passing.

Life was good.

.

.

.

Series Masterlist

[cmdrfupa]

What if…

Suguru x Reader

1.3k words

a/n: I decided to put my Gege hat on and give a different flavor. Suguru decides to come to you instead during his most troubling hour.

It was past 2 a.m. when Suguru finally arrived. The world outside was still, wrapped in the thick silence that only the dead of night could bring. He hesitated, standing at the doorway with a quiet tension lingering as he looked down at Nanako, who he had in his arms and Mimiko, who clung to his side.

It had been 3 days and you only thought the worst. No contact, no idea if the mission had gone well. He’d ran away. But there he was, holding onto the facade of bravery as the girls stood shaken but comforted by his presence.

And there you were. A calm, familiar face that that was giving him the same.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” he took a deep breath, his voice low. “I just needed a safe place for night or two. Somewhere safe for them.”

An understanding warmth softened your gaze as you nodded with no questions. “i’m always prepared for a sleep over. Come on in.” You moved out of the door way and gestured towards the living room for the girls to sit on the nearby couch.

You crouched down, meeting them at eye level as they sat next to each other. Your voice was soothing as you introduced yourself as Suguru’s friend. “You’re safe here.” You promised, glancing up at Suguru with a small nod of reassurance. “All of you.”

Suguru kneeled down as the two girls clung to huddled together with tired, teary eyes. He murmured his own soft reassurances as you returned with blankets and pillows for them. You met each of their gaze as you returned, your voice gentle yet certain. “It’s late. I know you are all exhausted so let’s get you comfortable, okay?”

Nanako looked at you then her sister, then Suguru, as if seeking his approval, and he nodded. Mimiko followed suit, and within minutes they were nestled under the blankets, eyes growing heavy as you hummed a soft lullaby. When you finally stood, both girls were fast asleep, breathing slow and steady.

Suguru straightened, lingering near the couch, a rare vulnerability in his posture. You gave him an almost pacifying look, then nodded towards the kitchen. “Let’s talk.”

You watched Suguru stir his tea and take a sip. He was exhausted, the bags under his eyes told you a lot but not enough.

He remained standing, an arm crossed over his chest, watching you watch him with an unreadable expression. When he finally spoke, his tone was uncertain.

“I know what I did.. what I almost did. And it scares me.” His voice wavered, carrying a tone of frustration. “I don’t want to be the one who only sees one way out.”

“What was your plan, Suguru? Kill everyone? Make even the innocent casualties of your own pity party over what?” You tried keeping your voice low while still getting your point across.

“This is not the time.”

“It is if you came to me at 2 in the morning with two children.” A deep sigh left you as your sipped your own tea. “Are those the girls from the village?”

With a nod, he began quietly, his voice hoarse, carrying the weight of everything he had seen that night. ”Once I’d seen the real issue, I just wanted them to be safe. But it’s more than that.” He paused, struggling to find words. “I wanted to kill each and every person who thought it was okay to torture and cage children. I almost became something I didn’t recognize.” His voice dropped, and his fingers tightened around the mug. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep fighting like this.”

You studied him, letting his words settle but giving him space, then spoke up. “You don’t have to be that person,” you spoke gently. “You’re here now. You showed mercy when it would’ve been easier not to. That matters, Suguru.”

He looked up, eyes dark and conflicted. “It doesn’t feel like mercy. They’re gone. The ones who hurt the girls. But I don’t know if I can walk this line forever.” His voice nearly broke. “I don’t want to lose myself.”

“It took strength to do what you’ve done the past few days.” You leaned forward.

“It doesn’t feel like enough.” Suguru’s jaw clenched. “Just stopping, it doesn’t change anything.” He paused, as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, “How do I protect people like them without..” his voice trailed off, frustration evident in the way he drug his hand down his face.

You walked around the island in your kitchen, and your hand found his. A steady warmth that grounded him.”You’re not alone in this. We will find a way— a better way. You don’t have to bear this all on your own.”

“Thank you.” He looked at you, searching your eyes as if they had the answer he couldn't yet put into words. “For everything.”

Suguru sat in silence for awhile, the remnants of the past few nights tension still etched into his face. You watched him, carefully, seeing how how his eyes stayed closed a little longer with each blink. Without a word, you walked to the bathroom, turning on the shower until the steam filled the small space, softening the edges of the night.

“Come on.” You murmured gently, stepping back into the kitchen and reaching out for his hand. He glanced up, surprised, but your expression eased his hesitation. He followed you, a quiet understanding passing between you both.

Once inside, Suguru slipped off his shirt, the damp marks of the previous days struggle still clinging to his skin. You moved to stand behind him as he finished undressing, your touch light as you guided him beneath the stream of water. He closed his eyes, letting the water wash over him, a rare sense of peace setting in his bones.

You reached for his shampoo, working it into a lather before running it through his hair. The gesture was gentle, unhurried, as though time itself had slowed just for this moment.

As your fingers massaged his scalp, Suguru exhaled and his shoulders finally fell. All the tension began to melt under your touch.

Neither of you spoke for awhile. You simply continued to wash his hair, the silence filled with the quiet rush of water and the occasional soft breath as he leaned into your touch.

Your small, simple acts always spoke more than words could with him. A reminder that he wasn’t ever alone. That someone was present, and caring for him in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to experience in so long.

As your fingers slipped through the last strands of hair, something in his chest gave way. It tightened and before he could stop it, a quiet, shuddering breath escaped him, his head lowering as the weight of all the pain and suffering caught up to him.

You moved closer, your hand steady against your shoulder, letting him lean against you. “It’s alright.”

Suguru’s breath hitched and he closed his eyes, the hot water mingling with the tears he could no longer contain. He pressed his forehead against your shoulder, his quiet sobs barely audible, held close by the warmth or your embrace.

In that small, dim bathroom, with only the sound of water surrounding you, you held him. Cocooning him to give shelter, gentle touches as you ran your fingers through his hair, letting him release the grief and exhaustion he’d carried for so long. A rare moment of unguarded intimacy, a quiet assurance that he didn’t have to carry the burden alone.

His breathing slowed and the last of his tears faded, Suguru lifted his head, his expression softened in a way he hadn’t felt in years. He looked at you, his voice a quiet murmur. “Thank you,” he said, his gratitude too deep to fully express in words.

You only smiled, fingers lingering before he intertwined his with yours. He kissed your pinkie and gave a sigh of relief before his warm gaze met yours.

A gaze that told him everything he needed to know.

[unbidden-yidden-deactivated20240]

Ever since October 7th, the amount of misinformation and disinformation about Jews, Israel, Judaism, and even just like, basic facts about reality have been so intense that it's really dredging up a lot of my gaslighting trauma.

(No, not in the memic sense that it's been distorted into, but the kind of gaslighting that leads you to detransition and think it was your choice despite drowning in dysphoria, the kind that warps and changes and erases memories, and makes it so that you dissociate for literal months at a time to escape the pain. That kind.)

And I recognized this because I keep finding myself arguing facts and trying to reason with people who say that they're part of the compassionate left and care about working on antisemitism but yet spew the kind of antisemitism that would be totally at home on Stormfront.

It's that first arguing stage of gaslighting, where the abuser keeps saying outrageous, untrue things and you're still fighting to try and get them to empathize with you and seek mutual understanding. This:

A gaslighter does not simply need to be right. He or she also needs for you to believe that they are right. In stage 1, you know that they are being ridiculous, but you argue anyways. You argue for hours, without resolution. You argue over things that shouldn’t be up for debate — your feelings, your opinions, your experience of the world. You argue because you need to be right, you need to be understood, or you need to get their approval. In stage 1, you still believe yourself, but you also unwittingly put that belief up for debate.

(bolding mine) (source)

This is a pattern I recognize in myself in personal relationships and even within communities, but what's happening right now is a lot bigger and more diffuse. It's not one abuser or even a shitty cohort of abusive people who are monopolizing a community space. This is being encouraged in a frighteningly large number of non-Jewish progressive spaces. In the same way that stochastic terrorism adds up very quickly, this type of cultural gaslighting and stochastic emotional abuse feels like a deluge.

But if you look at history, this is not new, for Jews. This is but the latest version of a very long game of Why Won't You Just Give Up and Assimilate or Die that Jews have thus far prevailed on at great cost to ourselves.

Anyway I'm done arguing with goyim about things that absolutely should not be up for debate: Jewish history, Jewish culture, what certain religious concepts in Judaism mean, Jewish lived experiences, what is and isn't antisemitism. If you aren't willing to engage in a genuine way that seeks mutual understanding, I'm not interested. I'm done.

You are engaging in violent behavior and lying to yourself about it and calling it activism. Well I am no longer going to participate. You can lie to yourself all you want, but you are a bad person and I don't forgive you, and you can do that alone.

You are acting from a mob mentality and a mob cannot be reasoned with. You are drunk on your tiny bit of power and social capital, and years down the line you'll lie to yourself and pretend that you cared about us.

You didn't. And deep down you know it, too.

Instead of arguing with people who refuse to see facts or reason and put our experiences up for debate, I am going to work on compiling a resource for people who want to actually learn.

Everyone else can fuck off.

[bachiras-toaster]

your rewards are so sweet : ̗̀➛

RANPO EDOGAWA x gn!reader

cw: suggestive but no explicit smut

wc: 1.6k

Ranpo sat idly at his personal desk in the Armed Detective Agency: A dimly lit office, his hands perked behind his head in a resting position, his legs on his desk, and a strawberry lollipop wedged in between his pouted lips. Underneath his feet were piles of documents he had yet to even look at, and it seemed like he had been procrastinating his duties for what was likely an hour now, just staring at the clock as the minutes went by.

He didn't even seem startled by the sound of footsteps approaching his office, despite having done literally nothing within the past sixty minutes. Scolding? Punishment? Ranpo had been through all of that before, and besides, he was already the greatest detective that the agency had to offer. What was the worst that could happen to him if he was caught slacking on the job?

"What is it you want? I'm busy." He groaned, knowing that he had done nothing but get lost in his own daydream the entire time. However, his demeanour changed when he caught wind of the voice that was on the other side of the barrier as the entrance to his office slowly tilted open.

"Oh, that's no way to treat your coworkers." You made her presence known to him, your voice low in a teasing tone.

Ranpo's heart leapt as soon as he heard your sweetness. How could he mistake that voice for anybody else? It was the voice of the coworker he was practically head over heels for, the one he would do anything to impress.

It was no mystery to the agency that Ranpo was hopelessly in love with you- It was no mystery to you either. In fact, it seemed like the only one who seemed to deny his infatuation was himself, disliking the fact that people could accuse him of being so devoted to another person's approval. Despite what he said though, it was abundantly clear that he was constantly at your feet, desperately waiting for just a shred of praise.

He quickly turned around, his lollipop dropping onto his desk accidentally as he was shocked by your sudden appearance, his face flushed with embarrassment.

"(Y/n)-San! I didn't even know you were here." He stammered, immediately going to wipe the drool that leaked from the corner of his lips when his lollipop hit the table, trying to seem as casual as possible but unfortunately failing miserably. He glanced down at the desk and swiftly picked up the treat, wrapping it in tissue before nonchalantly discarding it into the bin and standing up. "—What are you doing in my office? Are you investigating something?" He turned his attention towards you, still a little nervous. "You could have knocked first.."

"Had to make sure you were doing your work instead of slacking off." You hummed, making your way towards his workspace. It seemed like his eyes hadn't moved from you since you entered the room- Although, how could they? You seemed so serious and elegant in everything that you did, even walking seemed like an accomplishment of yours to him. "The President ordered me to make sure that you were working on the cases instead of just sitting at your desk and eating sweets like you always do."

"Just eating sweets?" He seemed offended, adjusting his cap before looking you in the face. "I am investigating all cases that come to me with complete seriousness, thank you very much." He huffed. "Sweets are important for a detective's health! Detectives must use their brain a lot, so they need a lot of energy. Besides, I am doing all of this work for the sake of catching criminals, for the sake of justice. Shouldn't I be rewarded for my hard work with sweets?" He asked you in a rhetorical sense, already reaching into his pocket to take out another unwrapped lollipop to replace that one that was just wasted.

"Rewards come after you get the job done." You proclaim with a faint smirk as you watched him carefully remove the wrapper from his candy. Just as he was about to take the second lollipop into his mouth, you swiped it from him and stuck it in your own, enjoying the delectable taste of raspberry-flavoured goodness. At the action, his face took on an expression of both offendedness and arousal at the sight of you stealing his candy and he wasn't sure whether he should address it. But as you sucked on the lollipop with such relish, his face flushed and he let down a gulp. Just the sight of you taking the candy from his mouth and putting it in your own filled him with emotions he never knew he could feel, as well as a range of private thoughts he had thought about every night.

You truly were one of a kind. He would do absolutely anything for you, and he'll do it willingly.

"Can you tell me what you've found out about the case at least?" You asked, your words muttering, the lollipop was stuffed between your teeth and cheek. He quickly adjusted himself and cleared his throat, tugging on his collar as he sighed, pointing at the documents.

"Of course... Well, I've already found out that we're dealing with a serial killer, probably a woman. According to the evidence we’ve collected, the culprit also suffers from some form of illness." Ranpo replied obediently and swiftly, as if he had known that information all along despite having just looked at the case for the first time since being assigned it.

You smiled at his immediate response and just chuckled, your index finger swirling around the stick of the lollipop. The first sentence he said came out casually, but when he caught a glance of your approving nod, Ranpo’s head immediately went down to skim through the document some more to desperately search for more leads and clues.

“…More specifically amnesia.” He continued. “Though, it’s quite clear that her loss of memory was not natural and it was forced from her by someone who’s powers probably has something to do with the mind.” He spoke fast, still trying to catch glances at you to see if you were still listening as he rambled on, pointing towards the documents. “The murders lead back to her, but she is not the villain. She was instead brainwashed into doing someone else’s dirty work for them so that they couldn’t be traced back to the crime… The only reason we haven’t found the culprit yet is because they’re already dead. Her latest mission was approximately one month ago.”

He turned the sheet of paper towards you and you scanned the collection of images and texts written down, continuing to swirl your tongue around the lollipop.

“All of the previous murders are relatively close together- Perhaps by two or three days. The absence of murder in such a long period of time is clearly an anomaly. But it’s only this way because I’ve concluded that her latest murder was killing the person who set her up to all this after she gained clarity over what she had done. This murder-slash-victim in question is Yori Hazaguchi: a meek, little office woman, who has probably already thought about turning herself in.”

As his last finger pointed towards the papers once more, he stood himself back up to his fullest height to proudly admire the case he had solved yet again. He then turned his head towards you to see if you agreed, and was met with the perfect sight of your smile just growing into a wider, proud grin.

"Ah, good. So it looks like you actually have been working. Fukuzawa was wrong to be so accusing. Maybe you’re deserving of rewards after all." You got up.

Removing the lollipop from your mouth, you strolled slowly over to stand right in front of him. You saw the way his chest tightened the closer that you got, and it fascinated you to see him so nervous in your presence. It wouldn't stop you in any capacity though. You kind of liked seeing him in such a way.

"Say 'ah'." You smiled, holding his chin with your thumb and beckoning him to open his mouth.

He looked at you while you stood in front of him, his eyes actually fully opened for once to welcome you with a love struck gaze- The pupils of a puppy. Your faces were so close to each other that he felt your sweet breathing mingling through the air, the aroma of the lollipop still being present in your breath. Your lips, your eyes, your hair: As he scanned these things and felt your thumb softly graze his chin, he pulled a weak smile. All of these aspects filled his mind and made him go weak.

"Ah..." He opened his mouth, awaiting for the reward.

As his jaw hung open, you shoved the lollipop that you had previously sucked on into his mouth, smiling as you watched him happily close his lips around the treat. He took a couple of glances at you, before stuffing the sweet between his teeth and cheek without a second thought, the stick hanging innocently from his lips- The fact that he could still taste your warm saliva on it was even better to him. The action made his heart go even faster and his brain rushed with memories of how you had licked on that candy... God, he felt so special.

These kinds of rewards were the best.

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Love | Oneshot

(A/N) My first Ghost fanfiction aaaahhhhh. Really excited about this one. Also, this came into existance within like an hour, so it's not proofread or anything and I wrote half of it on the verge of falling asleep. Still, I hope you enjoy it.

Pairing: Older!Singledad!Neighbour!Simon x Reader (no Y/N)

Warning: slight angst, mention of injury, mention of drugs (medicine), fluff

Synopsis: You are Simon's younger neighbour, as well as his son's daycare worker. After getting to know each other, the two of you struck an arrangement, where you take care of Simon's son, whenever he has to leave. One day you get a call, that Simon has to leave suddenly, so you go and pick up his son. But when there's no contact for over a month, you start to get worried. Will he be alright?

“Again, I am really sorry I just have to leave.”

You watched Simon rush through his living room, grabbing both his and his son’s stuff and throwing them in separate bags. He had just called you and asked if there was any possibility you would be able to take care of his son for the next few days. He’d been called away on an important mission and had to leave immediately. So you had quickly dressed yourself and gone over to his house.

It wasn’t unusual for you to look after Simon’s son, but usually, he would be able to tell you in advance and not only half an hour before he had to be out the door.

“How many times do I have to tell you that it’s fine? I really don’t mind.”

You were standing next to the door, bouncing Teddy on your hip, while holding his favourite plush in your other hand and entertaining him with it. He was giggling, and the sound alone caused a smile to appear on your face.

You’ve always been told you were good with children. And it was true, you were. So no one was surprised when you went to work at a daycare as soon as you were done with school. There, you were the youngest employee, in charge of a whole room. No one could deny your talent. And coincidentally, Teddy was also in your room.

As soon as Simon and you found out that you’re neighbours, you went to the head of the daycare and asked if she thinks that it’s a conflict of interests, but she was happy to leave everything the way it was, as long as Simon was okay with it. And he was.

A shriek giggle ripped you out of your thoughts and you looked up to see Simon, dressed in his uniform, walking up to you and his son, his arms extended towards the toddler. Teddy mirrored his dad’s position and you handed him over with a smile.

Simon in general was an intimidating man. Tall, broad and seemingly only consisting of muscles, you would be scared shitless if you didn’t know him any better. But you did. The first time you met him, he was covered in Teddy’s puke and extremely tired. Both of you had left your houses at the same time, not yet knowing that you worked at Teddy’s new daycare.

As soon as you saw the two, you grabbed one of the wet wipes you were always carrying with you and walked over to Simon, gently cleaning his chin from his son’s puke. Of course you had to get onto the tip of your toes to properly reach it.

He thanked you before getting in his car and driving off. When the two of you met again later at the daycare and he found out you’d be in charge of the room Teddy would be in, he questioned if you were even old enough to be out of school.

Yes, your friendship started off with the two of you butting heads, but it didn’t take long to convince him of your talent with kids. He saw it every time he came in late to collect Teddy, when you’d be alone with him, and even though you were visibly tired, you gave your all to entertain his son.

After a few weeks of you gaining his trust, Simon and you started to actually become friends. Soon, you were on the list of approved people to pick up Teddy, since Simon often worked unpredictable times and rarely collected on time. Instead, Teddy would help you close up after the last child was picked up and you’d take him home and take care of him at your place until Simon would come and pick him up.

This arrangement turned into you becoming sort of a mother figure for the toddler, taking care of him whenever Simon had to leave or work over time. Still, something like this, where Simon had to leave with such short notice, had never before happened and you had to admit that you were a little worried by the intensity his eyes held.

And while your smile wavered at those thoughts, seeing Simon cradling Teddy against himself brought it back.

“You have my debit card if you need anything. And my boss’s number is saved in your phone. Bedtime is at eight and his favourite toys are-”

You interrupted him.

“They are already at my place. As are half of his clothes and toiletries. I have enough of that puree he can’t get enough of and if I run out, I’ll just make more. I also have dino chicken nuggets and fish sticks.”

Simon looked at you, his eyes soft and slightly wet.

“You don’t have to worry, Si. Everything will be fine…just…just be careful, okay?”

He nodded and checked the bags one last time before he handed Teddy to you and pulled his balaclava down. With a swift movement, he lifted both bags with one hand and used the other to open the door, letting you walk out before him. He quickly threw his bag in the back of his truck, before accompanying you to your house.

You balanced Teddy on your hip, so you could open the door and step inside, Simon right behind you.

“Right…”

He placed his son’s bag right next to the door and then just stood there, slightly awkward. With a sigh, he stepped closer to the two of you and placed a kiss on Teddy’s forehead.

“I’ll be back soon, buddy. Dada loves you.”

He turned to you and placed his hand on your cheek, cradling it for a moment.

“Thank you, love.”

You knew that in that moment, your cheeks were bright red. You always reacted that way when he called you love, and it always stocked the flame in your heart, hoping that one day, he would actually mean it in a romantic way.

“Of course. Go safe the world, Si. We’ll be here when you get back.”

He nodded, pressed one more kiss to his son’s forehead, before he left and closed the door behind himself. A few moments later, you could hear the engine of his truck starting and you watched him drive away through a window.

Since Teddy was so used to spending time at your place, he never made a fuss when Simon had to leave for a few days. But days turned into weeks and weeks turned into one and a half months. You tried to hide it from Teddy, but you were growing increasingly worried about your neighbour. The last contact you had with him was three days after he left. You knew that because of the nature of his job, it was rare for him to actually be able to get into contact with you, but this is the longest he had ever gone without contacting you while gone.

You had just put all the toddlers down for their nap when the room phone rang. You quickly picked it up, hoping that it didn’t wake any of the kids.

“Toddler room?”

The head of the daycare was on the other end.

“I’m sending someone to cover for you. Please come to my office as soon as they’re there.”

You frown. This wasn’t usual behaviour.

“Ah…yeah, sure. Thanks.”

It didn’t take long for your cover to arrive in your room. You immediately made your way to the office, nervously picking at your fingers. Once you arrived at the door, you quickly knocked and entered as soon as you were given permission.

The first thing you noticed was the tense look on your boss’s face. The next was that the landline was lying off the hook, on the table.

“What is…?”

Your boss looked at you with pity in her eyes, before she got to her feet and gently squeezed your shoulder.

“Take as much time as you need.”

She gestured to the phone before leaving the office and closing the door behind herself. With shaky legs, you made your way to her desk and picked up the phone, taking a deep breath before you raised it to your ear.

“Yes?”

On the other end, an older woman said your name and you quickly confirmed it.

“I’m calling on behalf of Mister Riley.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Yes?”

“He was injured on his last mission and is currently in the hospital, recovering.”

A sob escaped your lips and you couldn’t stop whispering your thanks to whatever being was watching over you and Simon.

“I’m sure he will contact you himself as soon as he is able to, but we were asked to do so ourselves in case he is unable to.”

“So he’s alive?”

Your voice was shaky, your lips quivering as tears of relief streamed down your face. The other end of the line was silent for a moment, before the woman spoke again, this time, a smile was clear in her voice.

“Yes, he’s alive.”

“Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you.”

She chuckled, before wishing you a good day and hanging up.

You took a moment to compose yourself before walking out of the office. Your boss was waiting a distance away from the door.

“So?”

You smile, but a sob quickly tore through you. Your boss had always known of your feelings for your neighbour, so when she got a call from his employer, she was probably just as worried as you were.

“He-He’s o-okay.”

You sobbed again, tears now freely flowing down your face.

“That’s great!”

Your boss quickly pulled you into a hug and consoled you until you had somewhat calmed down.

“Listen, grab Teddy and head home, okay? Take a few days off and prepare for him to come home. And keep me up to date, yeah?”

You nodded and thanked her before heading back to your room. There you filled in the others and carefully picked up the still sleeping Teddy, carrying him to your car.

Twenty minutes later you were home and Teddy was awake, excited he got to spend the rest of the day at your house with you. You smiled at his excitement and used taking care of him as a distraction for your feelings.

Time passed quickly and before you knew it, Teddy was falling asleep in your arms. As quietly as possible, you carried him upstairs and tucked him in, pressing a kiss to his forehead before whispering a quick ‘good night’ and leaving his room.

You had barely made it downstairs when there was a loud knock on your front door. For a second, you hesitated, wondering who would be knocking at your door at this hour, but despite that you opened it and immediately stumbled back, trying to support Simon’s weight on top of yours.

“Ah, ah, come on big guy. Don’t wanna crush that lassie right away, huh?”

You felt the weight being lifted off of you and looked up, seeing a young man with a mohawk, wearing a similar uniform as Simon.

“You got him Soap?”

Behind him, an older man entered your house. He had a thick beard and brown fisher hat and smiled at you. The two of them grabbed Simon and slowly dragged him to your couch, where they let him plop down, before they turned back to you.

They quickly introduced themselves as Price and Soap, colleagues of Simon’s.

“When he said that he would sign the papers to get out of the hospital and drive here while still high on pain meds, we knew we had to do something.”

Price was explaining the situation to you, while Soap was still in your living room, chuckling in time with the sound of a phone taking pictures. As soon as Price noticed what was going on, he shook his head with a sigh and sent you an apologetic smile.

“I should get that one back home as well. If you or Simon need anything, just give me a call, yea?”

He handed you a piece of paper with his phone number, before he grabbed Soap and dragged him outside.

As soon as you were alone, you quietly walked towards your living room, stopping short when you saw Simon sitting up and raising his phone to his ear. You hesitated to say something when you felt your phone vibrate in your back pocket. You pulled it out and smiled when you saw Simon’s name.

“Simon? What are you doing?”

“I just…you are amazing.”

You blanked for a second as heat rushed to your face.

“Wha…What are you talking about?”

“You…and you with Teddy…and you with me. You are just amazing and I love you and I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a while now but you are so young and you deserve better than me. I mean, I’m not even here most of the time. You deserve someone who’s there for you and can take care of you and hug you and isn’t broken, but me, I am broken. So very broken and you deserve so much better and-.”

You stopped him, a smile in your voice.

“Simon…I love you too.”

You suddenly watched him jump to his feet with a wince, but even though he was clearly uncomfortable, he started fist bumping the air, making you chuckle. Patiently, you waited for him to place his phone back to his ear before you continued to talk.

“Simon…tell me all of this again tomorrow, okay? When you’re not high on meds.”

“Yes…yes I will.”

You chuckled and walked over to him, placing your hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

“Oh, hi.”

“Hi Si. Let’s get you to bed, okay?”

He nodded, a lovesick grin on his face as he let you lead him upstairs to your bedroom, where you carefully took off his clothes and put him in one of the sweats he had left at your place a few months ago. You carefully pushed him onto the bed and tucked him in. As you were about to leave, he caught your wrist and held you back.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m gonna sleep on the couch. You need the bed, big guy.”

He shook his head and pulled you back.

“No…stay. Please. I swear I’ll behave.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle and nodded.

“Okay, okay. Just…let me change, okay?”

With a content sigh, he nodded and let go of your wrist. But he continued to watch you as you walked to your bathroom. It didn’t take you long to change into your pyjamas and get back into the bedroom. As you entered you noticed that Simon quickly hid his phone, before he turned to you, holding out his hand.

You slid into bed and got comfortable, before you turned off the light.

“Good night Simon.”

“Good night, love.”

You were awoken by a shrill squeak.

“Dada!”

You opened your eyes and saw Teddy climb up onto the bed and straight into Simon’s arms, who gave his son a big hug.

“I’ve missed you buddy.”

“Missed dada.”

A smile tugged at your lips as you watched the two, but you also felt like you were intruding on their moment. You tried to slide out of bed, but were pulled back before you got too far. A surprised shriek escaped your lips as you bounced on the mattress, Simon suddenly leaning over you, Teddy on his back and hanging on to his neck.

“I love you.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, before a smile took over your face.

“You remembered.”

Simon chuckled.

“There’s not enough drugs in the world to get me high enough to forget what we said last night.”

Your smile turned into a grin and you softly cradled his cheek in your hand.

“I love you too.”

A cocky grin took over Simon’s face before he dove down and pressed his lips against yours in a passionate kiss. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss as your lips moved against his. Both of you were pulled out of the moment when Teddy tumbled off of Simon’s back and into your lap. You pulled back and smiled at the toddler, who started crawling towards you, Simon following your gaze.

“Let’s get that one fed, huh?”

You chuckled and nodded, but as Simon moved to stand up, you noticed the him wincing. He played it off for Teddy’s sake, but you quickly pushed him back down.

“Other idea, I go and make some pancakes and we have breakfast in bed?”

As soon as the ‘p’ word left your lips, Teddy squealed excited, making Simon chuckle.

“That sounds good, love.”

The same old heat flooded your face at the nickname, but now you knew his feelings behind it.

Please consider reblogging and following me! It helps a lot!

Call of Duty - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

[earl-grey-teacake]

Hey! Just wanted to say I've been loving re-reading all the asks on Ao3 and I've gone back through the tags on here as well and I had a question - you've previously said that Oscar and Logan were adopted and I'm curious did Carlos and Lando and George and Alex know the mother before had? Like was it an arranged adoption or did they go through an agency? Because the idea of Carlos and Lando meeting a few babies and not getting the right vibe and then seeing Oscar and just going 'ah perfect' is quite cute.

Hello! Thank you so much!

Oscar was adopted in Australia during the week leading up to the GP. A baby left in a carrier just on the other side of the fence surrounding the track with a partially filled out form reading OSCAR and DOB: O4/06/2***. A McLaren employee heard crying and happened upon the abandoned child. Shocked, they quickly rushed the child back to McLaren hospitality before leaving to find a doctor and police. Oscar, however, did not stop crying- wailing his poor little lungs out, feeling alone and scared and utterly abandoned by the world.

Lando couldn’t stand the crying, and took the baby out of the carrier to soothe him. The infant quickly clung to Lando, having stopped crying and opted to quietly rest his head against Lando’s chest. This attachment became even more obvious when the doctor and police arrived, with Oscar refusing to go with anyone else, forcing Lando to hold him while he got a check up. The police checked to see if there was a missing person’s report or anything that could lead information on the parent, but there was nothing. This was simply an unwanted child left by the race tracks.

Lando couldn’t help but feel his heart break. This was an innocent baby that had done no wrong, he didn’t deserve this. The longer Lando held him, the more determined he was to adopt him. He loved kids, had always wanted kids, but with his work there was no time to put too much thought into it. There was also the fact that his fiancé was also a driver. Lando had never talked in-depth about kids with Carlos and there was a strong possibility he would refuse for the sake of his career. But Lando couldn’t stand not keeping Oscar, he had to adopt him, he knew that and if Carlos wasn’t supportive than Lando could be a single father. Thankfully, he didn’t have to think about that since Carlos had walked in to see Lando holding the sleeping infant and asked if Lando wanted to adopt Oscar so Carlos could have the lawyers get started on the paper work. They stayed an extra couple weeks to get the paper work filed before they flew back home to Monaco with a 1-month old baby.

**************

Alex and George went the adoption agency route. They had gotten secretly married when the entered F1 and when Alex was dropped off RedBull, they entertained the idea of adopting a child. However, with Covid, George moving up to Mercedes, and Alex moving to Williams, the plan to adopt a child was put on the back-burner. The idea was brought up again when Lando and Carlos adopted Oscar. Alex loved how George looked holding a baby, and George adored how Alex smiled when Oscar smiled back at him.

They gots lawyers, went through an agency and prayed that they would be approved. After 3 months of waiting, they received their approval notice in the mail stating they were to attend a panel and meet some children to see who would be a good fit. Within an hour, they were packed and on their way to London.

They met a couple babies, some were newborn, some could walk, and others were just learning how to talk. A person from the agency oversaw the whole thing, taking notes of interactions, how receptive the kids were to them, and how the baby��s temperaments would fit into their lives. The last baby brought out had tuft of blonde hair, light blue eyes, and a little name tag that read “LOGAN”.

He was shy and quiet, squirming in the arms of the caretaker until they placed him down as a cushion. He kept to himself but continued to stare at the couple. Alex smiled and scooted over, gently poking him and eliciting a giggle. Even though Logan couldn’t understand, Alex still spoke to him and Logan slowly responded in his own babbling before holding out his arms to be picked up. Alex quickly relented and picked up the child, holding his close to his chest as Logan played with the buttons on his shirt. George had come closer as well, poking his cheek and tickling his stomach. Logan let out a laugh and grabbed onto George’s finger and looked at him with those large, blue eyes, cementing in George’s head that this baby would be their baby.

George had looked through Logan’s file, looking to see what led to this adorable child being abandoned. There he saw the note “Born in Florida-> adopted in UK-> adoption terminated 1.5 weeks after arrival.” There was no extra information on why it was terminated and George was not keen as to the reason. Adoptions, especially foreign adoptions were difficult to obtain and the circumstances that must have led to the poor baby being here must not have been pleasant. But that didn’t matter, Logan had a new home now and it was with them. After a month of paperwork and home inspections, there were allowed to take their baby home to Monaco.

**************

Oscar is found at the race track as foreshadowing his successful future in F1.

Logan’s brief past is a nod at Logan being born in Florida, moving to Europe young, and being dropped by Williams after 1.5 years in F1.

[butididntpourthewhiskeys]

CITYBOUND III

TW: sexual references 🚨

With her face in the sun, Taylor closes her eyes, feels the warm sensation hit her skin. A siren goes off, only a few feet away. The usual car honking that always reminds her exactly where she lives, also doesn’t stop. But it won’t end this peaceful moment. The first rays of sunshine in New York City this year. The first time she’s on the rooftop this year. Eleanor’s little voice from afar, playing by herself. In her winter puff jacket and with her sunglasses on her nose, she opens her eyes again now, looking at the blonde toddler sitting on the wooden patio floor only a few feet away from her. She’s playing with her dolls on top of the stairs leading to the covered pool. She seems to be in her own world, doesn’t even notice Taylor sitting on the sofa next to her, with a wool blanket on top of her. The fact that she so desperately soaks in these first sunrays of the year makes it more than obvious that she and Eleanor need to escape to LA for a few days. She can’t take winter no more. Time for spring to come.

“Honey, remember, no playing by the pool top.” Taylor says, using her hand to shield her sunglasses, making sure she can see clearly what the toddler in her green puffer jacket is doing. Eleanor just nods, two big tails on the little curly head. She’s playing with the two mini dolls that her mother got her a few weeks ago and she still seems to be obsessed with these little princesses. Taylor smiles. She sinks her head, fixes the big blanket over her legs and checks her phone. Just as she was about to reply to the dozens of unanswered messages in her inbox, she can hear the door from the end of the rooftop open. Within two seconds, Taylor sees two huge feet tucked into these ugly big Nike slippers. In his sweatpants he closes the door slowly, smiling through the sun right at her. He’s done with work. She’s glad. Two hours were two hours too long. Too long of him working, and her pretending as if she’s glad to have some time by herself. 

“Wow, this is nice.” he says as he slowly makes his way towards her. With an approving smile, Travis takes a look around the luxurious rooftop. Hard to believe that this peaceful outdoor space is right in the heart of Manhattan. 

“Yeah.” she just says, her eyes still focused on the tall man, slowly making his way towards her. He lets himself fall down right next to her on the outdoor couch. She smiles at him through her sunglasses. 

“How was it?” 

“Good.” he smiles at her, his hand already on her thigh again, right above the blanket that’s been keeping her warm out here. “Jason says hi.” 

She smiles, nods. She wonders what his brother thinks about all this. She knows that Travis is very independant from anyone’s opinions. It’s one of the things she admires about him. She knows he won’t get influenced by anyone else’s opinion about what they’re doing, who she is or whether this really is a good idea. But she still wonders what his family thinks. The fact that he’s just spending the week here, at her apartment. With her and her child. A weird thought that brings up some anxiety the more she thinks about it.

“Thanks.” she says, and he can feel that she’s insecure of how to react suddenly. 

“I didn’t.. I didn’t tell him much. He knows I’ve been seeing you, but nothing more.” he says, has clearly just read her mind again. She nods. It’s okay. This answer is something she can live with. 

“I know.” she says quietly, moves her cold hand on top of his. Her eyes looking for Eleanor once more. Travis just looks at the blonde woman next to him, smiles. He moves his thumb a little up and down, gently caressing her small and soft hand that’s on his. 

“How are you feeling?” he asks then, and Taylor looks back at him. She sighs, leans back on the comfortable sofa that the two are sitting on, just facing the sun. He still can’t believe how nice and quiet it is here, in the middle of a rooftop in this big city jungle. 

“Crappy, to be honest. But it’s okay. I’m used to it. Anytime she gets something, I get it two days later. Just… mom life.” she says, almost laughing at the end of her sentence. He nods. “I feel bad though because I told you a million times that you’re getting it next. And..” 

“And I told you a million times that I don’t care.” he interrupts her gently, not raising his voice. Instead, his hand just keeps on caressing hers and it does something to her that she can’t quite explain. She feels safe. She feels seen.

“You’re stubborn, has anyone ever told you that before?” 

He laughs at her statement, throwing his head back like a little kid for a second. She can’t help but smile at him, too. She loves it when he laughs like this. She loves how easy everything is with him. There’s no darkness when they’re together. The black dog that always follows her around just disappears. This familiar blue feeling of anxiety on her chest dissolves slowly. He’s pure sunshine, and she doesn’t know he is aware. 

“Touché.” he just says. She smiles. She’s got no arguments left. 

“Mommy, Travy. Look.” 

The two are suddenly pulled out of their thoughts. With her little pink converse shoes, Eleanor comes running towards the two of them. Travis can’t help but laugh at her bouncy pigtails. With her finger up in the air she stops right in front of him, holding the little ladybug right into his face. 

“Honey, don’t.. don’t push it in Travis’s eye, please. Careful.” Taylor tries to stop her toddler, but it only makes the man next to her laugh. With his big hands, he gently holds on to the little hand, looks at it in awe, just like Eleanor did before. 

“Wow, where did you find this little beauty?” he asks Eleanor. Her eyes are lid up. Taylor loves it. She loves seeing the world through Eleanor’s eyes. She loves that for this little girl, life is still as magical as it can get. 

“It.. it was just flying on my hand. Just like that.” she says, giggles in excitement that this little animal chose her for a visit on this sunny afternoon. 

“Want me to show you a trick?” Travis asks, and Eleanor nods. Taylor watches the interaction and smiles. With his huge fingers, he shows the little girl how to get the ladybug to crawl from her one hand to the other. Eleanor giggles, and Travis smiles at her when she does it herself for the first time. 

“Now, you have to make a wish. Close your eyes.” 

With a smile on the little face, she closes her eyes. Her small hands still gently in Travis’s. Taylor’s heart feels like bursting for a second. 

“You got one?” 

“Mhmhm.” 

“Now blow it away. One, two…” 

Eleanor blows the ladybug away, jumps up and down for a minute out of excitement. Travis laughs at the little girl’s excitement, still holding both her hands in his. 

“Great job, E. High five.” 

Eleanor claps her small hand against Travis’s. The smile on the little face is so evident to Taylor. Eleanor feels the sunshine, too. 

Not just the one coming from the New York skies today. 

She runs away, back to playing with her dolls at the end of the patio. Travis still chuckles, looking after her. His hand wandering to hers again. 

“She’s so adorable.” he laughs, then looks at Taylor. She smiles at him, and he knows exactly what her face is telling him right now. 

“I know, she is. Thanks for.. for being so sweet with her.” 

Travis doesn’t say anything for a moment. He appreciates her words. Truth is, he appreciates every moment of the past 48 hours. Being here, in her home, with Taylor and her daughter. Being able to just be together. Watching her take care of her child. Taking care of her. Lots of hugs to give and witness. Lots of kisses in this house. Lots of laughs. He hasn’t felt this happy and secure in a while and he hopes that this bubble won’t burst anytime soon. He knows it’s outrageous for him to have cancelled a majority of his off season plans for this week, just to spend time here. It’s unlike him to give up work (and play) commitments just to be with a woman. But this time, it’s different. It feels more like a deep need to be here with her now. Not like a choice. He knows, he needs to find the right words soon. But for now, it’s enough to turn off his mind for a bit. Enjoy a few more hours of heaven with Taylor. 

“Thanks for introducing me to her.” he replies, his face moving closer to hers. He gently kisses her cheek, his beard scratching her slightly. She looks back at him, nods then. Her forehead leans gently against his chin, her small hand caresses his beard for a moment. He steals her forehead a tiny kiss. 

“Means a lot, Tay.” he adds. She nods. He knows it still makes her feel incredibly vulnerable to have let him enter her and Eleanor’s life. And he can only fathom why. It must have been a tough fight for her to take back her own life after separating from Eleanor’s dad. And he knows she won’t let anyone hurt her daughter ever again. But he just wishes she’d know that he will never hurt either of the two. 

She doesn’t reply to him, instead lets her head gently fall onto his shoulder. His arm wanders around her and he loves holding her like this. The sun facing them. It’s peaceful here. It’s peaceful between them. He loves to feel this shift since the other night. Since the night she opened up, and allowed him to get close.

Closer than ever before.

___

With the hood of his jacket pulled deep into his face, he enters her building. It’s gotten dark outside now, and the sunny afternoon has turned into an icy, freezing night. Brandon opens the big doors for him, then enters the code to operate the elevator for him, and a few seconds later he steps inside. The doors close, and he can finally pull down the hood covering him. He can breathe again. None of the paparazzi outside have noticed him. 

“Quiet evening, man?” he asks the security guard, who politely smiles back. 

“Yeah, all good. Did some shopping?” 

Travis smiles and nods, the wine he got for himself and Taylor securely wrapped in a brown bag in his hands. 

“Yup. Got her some snacks. Keeping both of’em happy.” he jokes.

Brandon smiles. The interaction ends once the elevator door opens again. Travis steps outside, uses the key she gave him to enter the penthouse. Brandon says his goodbye, wishing him a nice evening and Travis closes her door. In an instant, her smell creeps back into his nose, into his lungs, into his… heart. It’s the same smell as her hair, when he kisses her head gently. The same smell as all her clothes, and the bed he slept in for a few nights now. He feels this indescribable feeling of happiness again, just by smelling her. He knows he’s far beyond the stage of falling for her. Her home feels like home to him, and every day - it just keeps getting worse. 

Travis takes off his jacket, gently throws it over the chair in the living room. He steps into the generous, open kitchen, and carefully places the bags of food and wine on the countertop. He knows Taylor struggled to get Eleanor to sleep tonight. So the last thing he wants to do is wake up the small girl. He takes the bottles of wine from the brown bag, finally finds free space in the wine cabinet on the other side of the kitchen.

“Hi.” he hears a familiar voice coming from the stairs then. He turns to her, closes the wine cabinet. She smiles, the same make up free face as earlier, before he left to go to the grocery store on Greenwich Street that she loves so much. She’s in her comfy clothes from before, her bangs a bit messed up from Eleanor’s pillow. 

“Is she out?” he asks, and Taylor nods, makes her way up to him. He immediately opens his arms, pulls her in for a tight hug. Her face pressed into his shoulder, nothing but her bangs looking out. She breathes him in. 

“Yeah finally.” she sighs, “Why do you smell so good.” 

Travis chuckles, moving his head in her tight hug to kiss her soft cheek again. 

“You smell so much better.” 

She lets go of him, both her hands wandering to his face. She smiles, then comes closer to kiss him gently. 

“I got you some snacks. And wine. And..” 

“Thanks so much. I promise, I will make a batch of cookies later tonight. I haven’t forgotten it. And I really want you to try these. Because, quite frankly, it’s a crime to stay at my house for more than 24 hours without trying my chai..” 

“Hey, I have a better idea.” he says then. She stops for a second, has already started reaching for flour, sugar and the chai tea in her cupboard right in front of her. She can feel his big hands wrap around her from behind, and it makes her smile.

“Yeah, and what is that?” she asks, his beard pressed into her neck, gently kissing her skin. 

“Come here.” he mumbles. One second passes and she feels his strong arms on her hips, lifting her up and placing her on the countertop behind her. She can’t help giggle a bit, loves that she’s towering him now. Her hands securely on his shoulders. He’s so strong and it never leaves her unimpressed. His nose touches hers for a second, and the smile on his face warms her heart in an instant. 

“Mister, if this is what I think it is, can I remind you…” 

“It’s not.” he assures her, kisses her again, can’t help but let out a laugh. She closes her eyes, both her arms wrapped around his neck. She feels herself letting go, a low sigh escaping her mouth. He pulls back after a few seconds, fixing a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“I wanna spoil you tonight.” he says then, and she smiles, biting her lower lip for a second. He’s so handsome in this moment, and his eyes could move a damn mountain. She can’t unsee these pictures of him as a little boy. He truly, still, is the goofy kid he told her he once was. And god, does she have love for this kid. Does she have love for this man in front of her, his huge hands being so gentle and kind.

“You spoil me every night.” she whispers against his lips, making him laugh a bit. 

“I don’t mean that kind of spoiling you.” he says, and she stops for a second. 

“Wait, you’re not talking about… sexy time?” 

“Sexy time?” he asks her with a laugh, can’t believe this is the way she describes their mindblowing, life-changing sex.

“I mean.. yeah it can be. But, I want to give you a massage. A proper one.” 

She can’t believe his words, almost feels insecure for a moment. It’s been a long time since someone she shared a bed with has made this kind of effort for her. She still remembers, early on with Joe, he would do small little things for her. But it was never like this. It was always accidental. Always unplanned, but sweet. But this, right here, with Travis, is different. She can’t believe he’s thought about this. Can’t believe he wants to spend the evening giving her a massage, has actively thought about what she would need right now. It’s a new level of attentiveness she’s foreign to when it comes to relationships. 

“Would you.. would you like that?” he asks then, has noticed her getting lost in her own thoughts. Within a second, she’s pulled back to reality and nods. Her mouth forming a smile.

“I would love that. I would absolutely love that. Thanks so much.” she murmurs, comes closer to him again and kisses him gently. He can tell she’s touched by this gesture, but that’s exactly what he wanted to achieve tonight. He wants to make her feel appreciated, respected, loved. He knows that after the past years with her ex, it’s still hard for her to let herself fall, enjoy the moment, let someone else take full control. But she deserves to be spoiled. She deserves to be treated this way. Always.

“Want to eat first? Or..” 

She shakes her head, and it makes him laugh. She just presses her face next to his, hugging him like a koala bear. He smiles, can feel her craving his proximity. Within a second, he has lifted her up from the countertop, slowly walking up the stairs with her hugging him this closely. He can hear her giggle into his sweater, carefully closes the door to her bedroom behind them. 

“Shall I leave the door open in case the little one wakes up?” he asks, carefully lets her down. She looks up at him smiling, then shakes her head. 

“No, all good. I still have the baby monitor app on my phone. If there’s movement in her room, my phone goes off.” 

He nods, his hand already on her cheek, stealing her forehead a last kiss before letting go again. She quickly turns on the little light next to her bed, then dims the room by turning off the main light. The mood has shifted, and it’s this romantic, low light she loves so much whenever she gets to be alone with him. This is her safe space. Him in her bedroom. The door closed. The world just staying outside. 

“I’ll quickly go pee, okay? Do you.. do you need anything?” 

“Bodylotion and a towel.” he says, and she smiles, not moving for a second. 

“What?” 

Standing in the door to the bathroom, looking at him, she just starts giggling. Her hand in front of her mouth now, the way she always does, whenever she gets shy for a second. 

“Nothing. I.. I just can’t believe you’re so serious about giving me a massage.” 

“Of course I am.” he says, has already taken off his sweatshirt and throws it over the little chair at the end of her bedroom. 

“Do you have a lighter?” 

“Yeah, top drawer by my bedside.” she says, can’t believe he’s putting so much effort into this. She just watches him reach for the lighter, then begins putting on the big Loewe candle at the end of her room. She can’t believe he’s got this romantic side to him. A side of him she doesn’t really know that well yet. He suddenly looks at her, a bit confused, not sure what she’s waiting for.

“Go pee, now. Come on.” 

“Okay, okay.” she mumbles, laughing to herself and closing the bathroom door gently. A few minutes later, the door opens again and she’s slowly stepping up to him. He has sat down on the side of her bed now, wearing nothing but his sweatpants and some socks. She stops right in front of him, looks around the room. She can’t believe he’s put on the candles. 

“Bodylotion?” 

“Oh, I forgot.” she mumbles, makes her way back into the bathroom again. When she comes back, she passes him her favorite shea body butter and a large white towel. A little out of place, she just stands there, watches him place the towel on top of her bedding. 

“Shall I..” 

“Come here, I’ll do that.” he smiles at her, and she trusts him. In her sweatpants and shirt, she crawls onto the bed, lands on her back and giggles as he reaches for the hem of her shirt, slowly pulling it over her head. She’s not wearing a bra yet he won’t break eye contact to her. A few seconds pass, and her pants have gone, too. She lays there for a moment, in the dim light, feeling a bit more vulnerable than usually. 

“You warm enough?” he asks her, notices immediately that she’s not a hundred percent comfortable. But she nods, just watches him closely. He puts a generous amount of body lotion into his hands, starts warming his hands together. 

“Shall I.. shall I take these off?” she asks him with a smirk in her face, and it makes him laugh.

“Yes.” 

“Oh, so it’s that kind of a massage?” 

“Babe..” 

“I’m teasing.” she giggles, gets rid of her thong and turns around. Laying flat on her stomach now, she feels his hands land on her back and it makes her shiver for a second. With her head turned to the side she closes her eyes, feels him fix her hair to the side, to ensure it’s out of the way. 

“Do you have a spot that pains you sometimes?” he asks her, almost a whisper. This is their world. Nobody is here to listen in, and she feels herself let go. Feels herself open up. 

“Yeah my.. my upper back and neck. I have horrible posture, so..” 

Within a second, Travis starts massaging the spot that always hurts her, and she melts into the pillow. She feels goosebumps form all over her body, and she can’t believe he’s so good at doing this. For a moment, she can’t really speak, can’t really think anymore. His warm, soft hands kned over her skin and she feels a deep relaxation take over her. 

“Oh my god..” she whispers then, and he smiles, giving his best to help her muscles relax properly. 

“Is that okay?” he asks her quietly, his hands moving up and down her back, again and again. 

“So good. This is.. so good.” he smiles, continues his work. He takes some more of the body lotion, moves with his hand movements down again to her lower back. He can feel her relax more and more underneath him. With her eyes closed, the talkative woman is suddenly dead quiet. 

“Baby?” 

He hears her whisper, almost feels like his entire body tingles for a second. She’s never called him that. She’s never called him anything other than the occasional ‘babe’ or ‘Trav’. For a second, he loosens his movements, looks up at her. She hasn’t moved, her eyes are still closed. He’s worried he might have hurt her. A hint of fear coming through. 

“You okay?” 

“I might fall asleep, is that.. are you mad, if I..” 

He laughs gently, keeps on working on her back. 

“You can fall asleep if you want to. This is for you to relax, stop worrying about falling asleep.” he says in the calmest way possible. Taylor doesn’t move. She feels herself drift off, can’t believe the amount of work and effort he puts into every single inch of her body. She can still feel him work on her lower back, now slightly moving to her hips. She can feel his talented hands move down every single muscle on her side. Not only are his movements the perfect amount of pressure and ease, but he also seems to have an extensive knowledge about the general muscle allocation. She’s never been massaged by someone she’s intimate with, didn’t know how good it can feel to let go off the tensions she carries in her upper thighs, and even her bottom. She doesn’t move, doesn’t know if she’s asleep yet or if she’s reached a new level of letting go. She can feel him work his way down her legs, massaging out all the tension from tour rehearsals in her calves. It’s the first time that his touch hurts a little, but it gets less and less with every round of kneading from his fingers. With every touch, the tension leaves her body. She lets out a soft sigh when he starts massaging her feet. She knew he’s good at foot massages, but she didn’t know his massaging skills extend to her other muscles, too. 

“You still awake?” 

“Mhmhm.” she mumbles. 

“Can you turn around for me?” 

She immediately moves in her bed, looks at the man smiling at her. He can’t help but laugh a little bit. She must have been so comfortable that she didn’t notice the pillow leaving a proper imprint on the right half of her face. She’s too cute. Before reaching for the body lotion again, he can’t help but get closer, steals her warm cheek a soft kiss. 

“I’m shocked about how talented you are, mister.” she mumbles then, relaxation in her voice. He smiles, reaches for her left hand, massages her arms up and down. She’s laying fully exposed in front of him. No blanket covering her. And she’s never felt so safe. Never before. 

“This is the best massage I’ve ever gotten.” she adds. Her eyes slowly closing. With his left hand he holds her arm upright, kneading all the tensions in her upper arm. 

“I’m glad.” he says, fully focused on his work. “I’ve gotten so many massages before that I really picked up where some of the muscles are located, and what type of movements help release tensions.” he explains, slowly lets go off her arm, and Taylor opens her eyes again. She feels his hands full of lotion gently massage her tummy now. Suddenly, her hand reaches for his arm. He looks at her. 

“Trav?” 

“Mhm?” 

“Kiss me.”

He smiles, comes closer to her and steals her lips a gentle kiss. He lets go after a few seconds, keeps on massaging her soft belly. She feels everything in her body tingling for a second, and she knows why. She knew this massage would eventually get to this point, but she didn’t think it would relax her this much. She then feels his hand move up her torso and within a second, her eyes are open. Wide open. He stops then, lowers his head and starts laughing. Within a second, the mood has changed. Drastically.

“I promise this.. this was not a boob grab, I just wanted to massage your cleavage. You do have muscles there. Believe me or not. And..” 

She giggles, too, holding onto his strong arm, clearly messing with him. 

“Please go ahead, I’m not stopping you.” she says with a giggle, her eyes not leaving his. With his soft hands he wanders up, starts massaging the muscles on the side of her neck. He’s so close to her face now, so close, and his hands keep on making the same moves. She looks deep into his eyes, feels him hit her deep muscle tissue then. She swallows. It hurts. It hurts to feel all the tension leave her body. She closes her eyes. 

“You’re so tense here.” he whispers. She nods. He keeps massaging her. “Feels like.. feels like you carried a lot of weight on your chest.” 

She has no idea why, but within a second, a tear streams down her face. Travis stops immediately, but her hand reaches for his. 

“Please keep.. keep going.” she sniffles. She doesn’t know why she gets so emotional all of the sudden. But whatever he was doing with her body right here, works. She feels all these stuck feelings leaving her body. So many emotions come back up. She’s so tired suddenly. She feels this pain so clearly. But she needs him to keep going. She needs him to knead it out until the very end. 

“Is it.. is it getting less?” he asks her, has noticed what she experienced just now. He’s learned from his physiotherapist that especially in the chest area, people tend to hold their tensions. Their grudges. Their undigested feelings. The last thing he wants to do is hurt the woman in front of him. But with every kneading movement of his fingers, he can feel her soften up. She has her eyes closed, nods. He won’t stop. After a few minutes, his movement gets slower. She opens her eyes again, looks into his. Within a second, her hands land in his neck and she pulls him down to her, kisses him gently. Her tears have dried up, and instead, she feels him be as gentle as she can be. And he loves tasting her. He loves how soft she is. Everything about her. A doze of dopamine hitting his system. She lets go off him then, her hands in his neck so that their noses still touch. 

“Thank you.” she whispers against his lips. He nods. She doesn’t need to say anything else. Slowly, she reaches for his left hand, not letting her eyes leave his. Within a few seconds, he realizes where her hand has moved. With the most gentle motion, she has placed his hand on the most intimate part of her body. He understands immediately, lowers his face to kiss her neck gently. He’s trying so hard. He’s trying so hard not to let these three words just come bursting out of his mouth in this moment. Her skin is so soft under his lips, her little hands on his scalp, caressing him gently. He can feel her longing for him in between her legs. His fingers gently exploring her body, being as careful as they could be. Within a few seconds, he leaves her neck, looks back into her eyes again. Her lips are a bit swollen from their previous kisses, and there’s a kind of calmness in her eyes he hasn’t seen before. 

“You sure?” he asks her again, and she appreciates it so much. Not a single time they’ve slept with each other without Travis asking for her consent beforehand. She appreciates this, appreciates just how much he respects her. She nods, adjusting her head on the pillow. She looks down, so that she can witness his fingers moving gently. She feels her chest rising, enjoys every single one of his hand movements so much. She swallows, her breath a bit shaky now. She can feel him kiss her cheek while his hand keeps up the steady movement. She feels so safe in this moment. She knows she can let go. She knows with him, she’s always safe to let go. 

“Fuck..” she mumbles then, a little sigh escaping her mouth then, breaking the silence between them. She’s holding onto his neck with her hand, desperately looking at him.

“Can you..” 

Travis immediately looks at her. She is fully focused on his hands, her left hand on his lower arm now, feeling his muscles move while he pleasures her. With the other hand, she’s holding onto the towel underneath her. She struggles to speak right now, but he patiently waits for her to finish her thought. He feels so close to her in this moment. They’ve just reached a new level of intimacy. He can feel it in his bones. 

“What..” 

“Can you go.. just a bit faster?” 

He doesn’t reply to her, just does what she asked him. His circle motions are steady but at a higher speed than before. And she appreciates it. So much. She lets her head fall back into the pillow, the little frown appearing on her face that he knows so well. A frown he only knows when he’s in between her legs. And he loves it so much. With his free hand he begins to caress her naked stomach a bit, her hand reaching for his. She’s close. And he’s ready to be there for her, for every second of it. A last little moan escapes her mouth and it gives him goosebumps. Suddenly, her breathing gets faster and faster and he can hear her whisper his name a few times, with the same high pitched desperate moan that he knows and loves so much. He can feel her ride off her wave of pleasure, tightly holding into his arm, guiding him in his movements. He looks into her face as it happens, and he swears he’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life. For a few seconds, she breathes fast with her mouth open, her body just coming down from this mountain she climbed with him. He knows she’s sensitive now, and he’s as gentle with her as humanly possible. His hand still between her legs, he doesn’t move, gives her the time and space to come back down to planet earth. She opens her eyes again after a few seconds, her cheeks flushed. She just pulls him down to her, kissing him full of giggles and lust. He can feel her hand reach for his boxers. He laughs into the kiss. He knows what she wants, and he would be lying if he said he doesn’t want exactly the same. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.” she mumbles in between the shower of kisses she gives him, her hand now fully landing on his naked butt. She smiles into their kiss. The stubble of his beard scratching her face in the best way. 

“You’re so welcome.” he whispers back, smiling at her. She loves to feel his naked weight on top of her now. Two noses touching. He looks down for a second, gently guiding himself into her. He watches her face closely, trying to find any trace of discomfort. But there is none. She closes her eyes in pleasure again, and so does he. Paradise. He opens his eyes again, feeling her arms holding onto his. Her frown is back. Paradise. He can feel her move with him, her mouth opened, sweet moans escaping her again. He knows she’s holding back, not forgetting that they’re not alone in this house. But he’s still in paradise. 

“Baby..” she cries out then, half a whisper, half a beg, half a moan. He looks at her, his big hand already cupping her face. He kisses her forehead right over her bangs. She’s warm. She’s slowly but surely starting to sweat a little, just like him. 

“Can I.. I want to be on top, please. Please.” she mumbles. He immediately stops, lets himself fall next to her in bed. He feels her get up, position herself on top of him. She’s still flushed, yet her eyes barely leave his. He looks up at her, can’t help but feel like he’s dreaming. Her long hair over her naked shoulders. Her hands reaching for his chest to hold herself upright. She’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. She begins her movements again, and he helps her. His hands on her hips, his eyes on her face. She’s so beautiful. He can’t help but look at her. Can’t help but stare at her letting go on top of him. 

After a few minutes, he feels his vision get blurry. She lets out another moan, a little louder than before. He feels himself come undone, then loves to feel her collapse on his chest. She’s breathing heavy, both of his hands on her bare back, feeling her lungs do the most in this moment. She comes down only slowly. Her skin hot and soft. She doesn’t move, just relaxes slowly. And he loves every minute of it. He loves feeling her get heavier and heavier on him. His hands stroking her back up and down, making her feel just as loved as before they had sex. A few seconds later, she looks back up at him, a smile on her face. He smiles back at her, both his hands cupping her face now, kissing her gently. This time, there’s no lust in his kisses no more. There’s just love. A lot of love. 

She quickly moves on his torso and lets herself fall next to him. She stares at the ceiling for a second, then turns her head back to him. He’s moved to his side, just so he can see her better. His hand on her stomach again. He loves being so close to her. There’s nothing better than being so close to her. His fingers drawing circles on her skin. 

“That escalated quickly.” she mumbles. He laughs, stealing her temple a soft kiss. 

“Thanks for your.. for your incredible massage. Also for.. the other part after.” she says, grinning at him as goofy as a teenager who just had sex for the first time. It makes him laugh. 

“I don’t think my body has ever felt so relaxed, Trav.” she whispers. His lips still on her temple. He smiles, as she looks back at him. There’s a sparkle in her eyes, he hasn’t noticed before. It must be the afterglow that people always speak about. 

“You’re very welcome. Glad you liked it.” 

“I didn’t just like it. Trav, that was.. electric. Literally electric.” 

He smiles at her using his own words. She lets their noses touch once, has now moved to the side to be face to face, and eye to eye with him. 

“Thank you so much.” she says again. He doesn’t really react, just places his hand on her cheek. There’s so much love in his eyes in this moment. He doesn’t need to say anything. His eyes just say it all. 

“You cold?” 

“A little.” 

He starts moving, for the first time since minutes and helps her crawl underneath the big blanket just under them. She adjusts a little, then cuddles herself fully under the covers. Her hands looking for him. She moves again, until she’s finally fully embraced in his arms. He kisses her head, makes sure she’s covered by the blanket. Silence takes over, and he allows himself to close his eyes for a minute. 

“Trav?” 

“Mhm?

“Can we try this?” 

“Try what?” 

“Us.” 

For a second, he can’t dare believe his ears. His eyes open, but he doesn’t move. He doesn’t know if she just meant what she said, but she said it. Taylor moves again, turns around to be able to face him. She’s worried suddenly that she’s said too much. She’s worried that his silence is something other than utter surprise. He looks at her in shock. Within a second, she feels a tummy ache flaring up inside of her. 

“Do you.. can you please say something?” she mumbles and he takes a breath, slowly sits up. She’s worried now. She’s never witnessed him this freaked out. She knew it was too soon. But she can take it back. Thank god she didn’t fully speak it out yet. She can fix this. She looks at him leaning against her bed rest. She carefully sits up as well, holding the blanket close to her naked body. 

“I’m so sorry for.. just.. not finding the right words, Tay.” he says finally, and she nods “No worries, I mean I know I..” 

“My answer is yes. But I need you to know what I’m in for.” he interrupts her and she’s shocked for a moment. She looks at him, feels her hands shaking suddenly. She doesn’t feel relaxed anymore, at all. What bomb did she just set off? She can feel him get nervous as well. It’s been a while since he was acting like this around her. 

“I.. I don’t want us to just be another fling. I..” he stops, gathering his words, “I know this is not the most romantic way to do this, but if we try this, if we.. if we try being something serious. Like.. as serious as a relationship. Then.. then I want you to know that I’m in it for the long run.” he looks into her eyes, fully aware that this could scare her off for good. But he needs to honor himself. He needs to be straight with her, or else this won’t have a chance of working out. 

“I’m not in this, if.. if you want a little distraction. Or a little fun. I want a partnership. I want to have a family eventually. And of course, we.. we have a long way to go. To see if we fit. To see if this can work. But I just want you to know that if we try this, then.. then this is my intention.” 

Travis takes a deep breath after finishing his little speech. He can’t dare look at her again, but he’s proud of himself for having said it. Suddenly, he feels her hands reach for his. He looks back into her eyes, and she smiles. A little tear in her eyes. He can see that clearly. 

“Okay.” she whispers. He swallows, not sure how to react. All he feels is her small hand caressing his. 

“Okay?” 

She nods, a smile on her lips. 

“I want the same thing. With you. But.. I’m just.. I just hope you know what you are in for. With all this attention. I will be on tour soon, Trav. If you think this is bad, the security and the.. the staying hidden, then you have no idea what you’re in for in the next months. My life is crazy. My life is.. fully out of control. But it’s my life. And I have lost years of my life hiding for someone else who couldn’t handle the pressure. And.. and I can’t do that no more. I’m all in, but I just hope you know what that means for you.” 

He looks at her, a big smile on his face. All the worries from before are gone. He nods. 

“Tay?” 

She looks at him, worry in her face. She knows his smile can’t really mean that he changed his mind after her little speech. But she is in fact worried that he will regret this. That he will ask her for more time to think about this. About what it means to be in a relationship with her. 

“I need to tell you something.” 

“What?” she says, her hand still holding his. She looks at the man in her bed. His naked torso leaned against her bed rest, his smile all over his face as he looks at her. She feels calm just looking at him smile like this, but there’s still a part of her that is full of anxiety right now. 

“I.. I think I’m really really really in love with you. Like… so much, it’s not even funny.” 

She doesn’t say anything, just stares at him for a moment. 

“Is that okay? I feel like.. maybe this is a good time to tell you. I will let you know if I can’t handle your life, I promise. But I need you to know that I’m ridiculously in love with you. And.. and it would make me the happiest person on this planet to call you my girlfriend.” 

Travis finishes his sentence. She doesn’t say anything, just sits up a bit, both of her hands touching his cheeks. She presses her forehead against his, then leans in and kisses him. It’s a different type of kiss. She’s emotional. His hands land on her bare back again. 

“I love you, too.” she whispers then, closes her eyes and lets him kiss her bangs gently.

“So much.”

___

“You sure this is a good idea?” 

He asks again, sitting on the bed and looking at her. He’s wearing a pair of his Nike sweatpants and a black t-shirt. He watches her finish her make up in the mirror by her bedroom. She looks incredible, just like every day. A pair of blue boyfriend jeans covering her small frame, a grey longsleeve shirt on top and her black adidas shoes covering her feet. He loves to watch her get ready in the morning. He doesn’t know why, but it’s just another way of spending time with her. Witnessing her every move, every mundane thing she does in the morning, getting to know her even better. 

“Of course it is.” she says again, for the fifth time today, turning around to look at him with a smirk. He laughs too, now, knowing he acts absolutely ridiculous. After all, it’s her dad. She loves her dad. And he’s always been popular with his ex- girlfriend’s fathers. No need to act like a little boy now, Travis. 

“Listen, my parents are.. very much open to the idea of me dating again. I know they want me to be happy. And.. trust me, it’ll be fine.” 

He nods, watches her walk towards him. She stops standing right in front of him. He presses his face into her shirt, right above her stomach, giving her a few nervous kisses. 

“Also, I can’t stand the thought of you flying out today. So we definitely need to have a nice lunch altogether before you leave.” she mumbles into his head, kissing his head once. 

He looks back up at her and smiles. He can’t believe he’s flying out to Kansas City again. He can’t believe he’s spent five extra days in this city. Unplanned. The most incredible, beautiful, five days with this woman. Not a single chance, he could ever forget these days in his lifetime. 

“I’ll miss you, sweetie.” he mumbles. She nods, and he can see in her face that it worries her. She doesn’t want to leave their bubble. And neither does he. 

“I’ll miss you, too.” she says, “But it’s just one week.” 

He nods. They can do one week. They’ll be fine. 

“Travy, look. I did this for you!” 

Taylor quickly lets go off Travis, hears her daughter run into her mother’s bedroom. A pencil and a piece of paper in her small hands. Taylor and Travis decided to let some time pass before explaining to Eleanor where they both stand, with each other, in their relationship. She won’t ever fully introduce someone into her life, unless it’s as serious as it could get. And they’ve got time. They’ve got all the time in the world for this big move. 

“What? For me?” Travis looks at the little painting she made him. He’s in true disbelief. Eleanor smiles proudly at her mommy, gets all shy and nods then. 

“This is Olivia and Benjamin and Chauncy and Rambo.” 

Taylor can’t help but laugh a little, looks from Travis back to Eleanor. Her hands land on the little curlyhead. All it took was for Travis to show Eleanor a few pictures and videos of his dogs, and the little girl fell in love. Taylor knows how much she adores animals. Of course, she would fall in love with his doggs in a minute - even without having met them yet. 

“Oh my goodness. Eleanor. This is.. this is beautiful.” he says, completely serious, looking into the little girl’s proud face. 

“Wow, you’re so talented.” he says,pokes her tummy once and she giggles. 

“Can I get a hug?” he asks, and Eleanor falls into the big man’s arms. For a moment, Taylor stands there and feels herself get emotional. She knows this little girl hasn’t had a steady male figure in her life, besides her grandfather and her uncle, for almost a year now. Ever since her separation from Joe, Eleanor has seen her father twice. Phone calls that were promised got less and less. And Taylor could feel Joe not just forget about her, but also his daughter. He’s left her. She can barely let these thoughts enter her mind, but sometimes, they just come creeping back up. She knows that Eleanor knows exactly that her father hasn’t called in months. And Taylor knows that maybe, just maybe, this is why she’s so crazy about Travis. And how can she not be? He’s tall, he’s funny, he makes her laugh and he’s so kind and gentle to her. 

“Thanks so much, girly. I’m honored. This is beautiful. I will hang this one up in my house.” Travis says to Eleanor. Taylor notices Eleanor’s hand landing on Travis’s.

“And I promise you, soon you will meet Rambo and Chauncey. I promise. And I’ll send mommy some videos tonight.” he says, making Eleanor jump up and down a few times. Taylor loves seeing her so excited. She loves this relationship that’s slowly forming between Travis and her. But then again, the more she feels these two connecting, the more she feels herself growing anxious. A deep wave of anxiety, worry, almost panic arising in her chest.

If this won’t work out, then Travis will break two hearts. 

Not just one.

___

“Grandpa!” 

Travis hears Eleanor screaming while running towards the elevator door of the townhouse. He just stands there in the kitchen, taking a deep breath, which he hopes will remain unnoticed. Taylor already laughed at him taking off his earrings before. But he wants to be as presentable as possible for her dad. After all, he’s the man who entered his daughter’s and granddaughter’s life. He wants him to have a good first impression. Whatever that means. Travis slowly makes his way to the door, watches Eleanor jump onto Scott’s arm. The older man laughs a few times, already listening to Eleanor tell him all about her new school. Taylor just looks back to Travis, rolling her eyes at her daughter. He laughs. Eleanor is a very talkative little girl. He absolutely adores it about her. 

“Hi, honey.” Scott says then, hugging his daughter. Travis immediately feels the man’s eyes on him. He smiles at him, not sure how to act. He takes a step closer to him, opening his arms. Immediately, he realizes that Scott gives him a hand shake instead. Slightly embarrassed, he shakes his hand, tries to hide the fact that he expected the welcome to be a bit warmer, instead. 

“Hi, Mr. Swift. It’s so good to meet you. Taylor told me so much about you.”

Scott smiles, barely, and nods. 

“Nice to meet you.” 

Taylor watches the interaction, and gets a little confused. Her father is usually the warmest person she knows, has never not opened his arms for any of Taylor’s friends, or even her crappy ex-boyfriends. She’s not used to her dad being this cold, especially towards someone as open and as warm as Travis. Her parents have always taught her to keep warm people close. And Travis is one of these people. 

Taylor doesn’t say anything, just places her arm on Travis’s shoulder. It’s a small gesture but he knows its her way of assuring him.

“So glad you get to meet Travis, dad.” she mumbles, but Scott doesn’t really react, is suddenly extremely busy hanging up his jacket next to the door.

“Alright, shall we have lunch?” she says then, hoping the mood in the room gets lighter soon. She feels incredibly insecure suddenly. But she hopes Travis won’t feel any of this. He doesn’t deserve to not feel welcomed. After all, he’s been the most incredible person in her life for these past months.

“Sounds good.” Scott says, placing his bag in the dining room. 

“Grandpa, can we watch a movie together?” Eleanor asks her grandfather, already holding his hand again. Scott smiles at her, his hand protectively on her little head. 

“Sweetheart, your mommy and I have a few work meetings after lunch. But tonight, we can watch a movie together. How about that?” 

Eleanor nods, seems to not be very happy about his answer. 

“Should I.. do you need any help in the kitchen?” Travis asks Taylor. She looks at him, and immediately feels his tension. She hates it. 

“Actually, why don’t you and dad just sit down, and Eleanor and me we can get lunch ready huh?” 

Her hand lands on Travis’s back. He gives her that one look that always makes her laugh. But she knows this is good. As soon as her dad and him talk for a bit, the tensions in this penthouse will disappear and her dad will absolutely love him. Just like everyone else in her life so far.

“So, Scott. I heard you were also big on football during high school?” Travis asks, sitting down right in front of him at the dining table. Scott looks at him, no smile in sight. He nods. 

“Yup, I was a running back for five years.” 

“Oh wow.” Travis laughs, obviously relieved that the two have found a topic to discuss. “That’s awesome. Did you ever think about doing it professionally?” 

“I was a Finance major. So football was obviously just a hobby. Nothing more.” 

“Yeah, I get it. For me, was quite the opposite. Sports was always the only thing I was good at, so..” 

Scott doesn’t react. Silence. Travis looks up at him, has run out of things to say. Her dad clearly isn’t interested in a conversation with him. Instead, the seventy year-old man picks up Eleanor, helping her crawl onto the chair next to him. She shows him her little photo book that her mother has crafted with her, and filled with polaroids of herself and her three cats. Travis watches Scott smile at Eleanor. The shift in his mood couldn’t be more obvious. He’s completely in awe with his granddaughter, as he should be. And he couldn’t be less interested in getting to know him. Travis swallows, feels Taylor’s hand on his back. He can see in her face that she feels the same as him, pretends to put on a smile for him. But he can see right through her. There’s no denying that the mood is off. 

“What do you guys want to drink? Water? Sparkling water? Soda?” 

“I’ll just get a water. Thanks, honey.” Scott says. 

“Coke for you, babe?” she asks Travis. Her hand gently caressing his cheek over his beard. 

“I’ll just.. get a water. Thanks, babe.” 

She doesn’t say anything, and Travis wasn’t the only one feeling her father’s eyes on him. Taylor walks back into the kitchen, feels herself slowly get angry. She doesn’t know what has gotten into her dad. But she really hopes he gets it together, soon. 

“Do you usually just drink sodas for lunch, Travis?” 

Taylor places the waterbottle on the countertop with a bang. She’s getting mad, now. One more word and she’s going to loose her patience. Travis has been nothing but kind and polite. Yet her father treats him like a criminal. 

“Well, I train a lot. So I need to get my calories in somehow. I try to stick to diet drinks, but.. well sometimes an ice cold coke is just.. refreshing.” he laughs, a little insecure as he doesn’t get a nod back.

“Sodas are the number one reason for type one diabetes in our country. And that goes especially for children, Travis. I always tell Taylor it’s probably safer to have pesticides in the house than to give Eleanor any of these sugar drinks.” 

Travis doesn’t say anything, just nods. He asks himself if he was irresponsible these past days. After all, he did drink coke in front of Eleanor and even let her try once when Taylor allowed him to. He gets quiet, understands that there’s no arguing with her dad in this. After all, he’s right. 

“Too bad, because all this little girl drinks is coke and fanta and sprite. Oh, and sometimes before bed I add some sugar to her coke. Just makes her more sleepy, I find. The good old sugar crash just does the job.” Taylor says, a hint of anger in her voice. She places the food and water she just brought on top of the hardwood table. Scott just shakes his head, his hand still protectively on Eleanor’s little head. 

“Not funny, Taylor.” 

“Dad, come on. As if you never drink coke for lunch.” 

“Well, I certainly don’t after having cancer.” 

“Here goes the good vibes.” Taylor says, angry, looking at Travis. He doesn’t say anything, and she feels horrible for him. Under the table, she reaches for his hand, squeezes it a few times. 

“Eat up, guys.” she says then, encouraging the two men to start eating. Eleanor reaches for her glass of water, and starts chugging it down. It gets quiet. Horribly quiet. Travis doesn’t speak, and neither does Scott. 

“Grandpa.” Eleanor says, and Taylor has to smirk. Of course her bubbly five-year old would kill these weird vibes today. 

“Yes, honey.” Scott says. 

“Look at my bracelets.” she says, proudly, showing her grandfather her arm full of friendship bracelets. 

“Oh, beauiful. Did you make that all by yourself?” 

“Yes, with my friend Emily.” 

“That’s awesome.” 

“And this one I made with Travy yesterday.” she says proudly, smiling at Travis. He smiles back at her, his head tilting slightly to the side. He always does that whenever Eleanor looks at him with her little eyes. Taylor witnesses the interaction with a smile. 

“Travy?” 

“Yeah, she… well, my nieces always call me Travy so I told Eleanor she can call me..”

“Taylor. Can I speak with you outside for a second.” 

Taylor swallows. For a moment, the entire demeanor around this table has shifted, once again. Travis knows exactly what this is about. He feels guilty all of the sudden. Guilty for having entered Taylor’s life. Guilty for getting closer to Eleanor. He can feel Taylor get more tense. The two adults get up, leave the room to take the stairs up to the rooftop patio. He swallows. He’s definitely lost his appetite now. He just sits there, leans back. A door is closing. Loudly. And then all he hears is yelling. Scott yelling, then Taylor. Then Scott. Then Taylor interrupting him yelling some more. He’s so glad he can’t hear just every word he says. But he knows what this is about. And hearing Taylor yell like this is not something he’s ever witnessed before. 

“Travy..” Eleanor mumbles then, looks at Travis confused. 

“Is mommy fighting with grandpa?” she asks him, has also put down her fork. He can see in her little blue eyes that she’s worried. And Travis feels even worse. He swallows, takes a deep breath, then sighs. 

“Yeah, I think so.” 

Eleanor nods.

“I don’t like it when mommy is mad. Because.. because sometimes, she gets sad, too.” 

“Yeah, I also hated when my mommy was sad.” 

Eleanor nods. 

“Maybe grandpa didn’t like my bracelets.” she says then. Travis can’t help but smile suddenly. He can’t believe this beautiful little girl thinks anything she ever did is the reason her mom and grandpa are fighting. 

“Hey, give me your hand, girly.” he says then, gently. Eleanor looks at him, and Travis reaches for her small hand on top of the table. 

“Listen to me.” he mumbles, “your grandpa absolutely loves your bracelets. Trust me.” 

Eleanor nods slowly. He caresses her tiny hand for a second, so long, until Eleanor seems to be lighting up again. 

“Travy.” 

“Yeah?”

“Promise to send mommy the video of Chauncey and Rambo, okay?” 

He smiles gently, then nods. 

“I promise.” 

[sillyblues]

‘pecador.’

synopsis— you bring the sinner out of miguel o’hara

cw— religious themes, blood, mild nsfw, 18+

“En el nombre del Padre,”

Miguel O’Hara was a sinner. Violence has always resided in his soul, along with anger that bubbled in his veins. It was evidently clear to him and everyone, even back then when he was younger. He could barely remember his first memories of joy with his mother nor a play with his brother, but he could remember vividly when he threw a punch at somebody who told him that he and his mother and brother were dirty.

And ever since then, he has not learned of a moment filled with peace. His father berated him and punched him as well because how dare he hurt the son of his boss. Because of it, his father had been fired, and they had no money anymore. But Miguel didn’t care. How could he when that little shit insulted his mother in front of him? He let his father vent his anger and frustrations on him. 

“Y del Hijo,”

But a mother’s love was great, and his own mother couldn’t bear to see her son getting hurt, so she tried to stop him. She took her in his arms and protected him from his father. But she shouldn’t have done that. He wished his mother stayed put in place and come to him when his father was done with him. But she didn’t because her love for him was great.

His father grew furious at the sight of his wife hiding his son away from him and in wrath, he hurt Miguel’s mother as well. The slaps and the punches and the hair pulls were thrown at his mother and he knew it was painful. He tried to pull away from her as his eyes were wide and tears streamed down. He begged his father to stop and asked him to forgive him, he sobbed as he said to him to hurt him instead, just not his mom. But despite it all, his father turned a deaf ear to his pleads and his mother’s embrace was tight just so he would not get hurt.

“Y del Espíritu Santo,”

His father’s anger was a large fire that evaporated away his family’s water of tears but Miguel’s resentment was a burning fiery hell only reserved for his father. His rage was molten and flowed through like lava and it pulsed within his heart and consumed his rationality. His fury blinded him and he didn’t know what he had done until he regained his vision momentarily back to see his mother crying.

“Miguel, escúchame,” his mother whispered to him with a tremble as she took the bloodied knife that he didn’t know he was holding from his arms. He looked at his hands soaked in red and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“My baby boy, thank you for protecting Mama,” she hugged him and rocked him back and forth as she sobbed. Like instinct, he hugged her back weakly. “I love you so much, I want you to know that.”

“Be strong for me and for your little brother, okay? He has no one but you. Take care of him and yourself, alright?” her soft voice was full of sadness and he desperately wanted to look up to her and comfort her. He wanted to tell her that he also loved her very much and he will but like a lullaby, her voice sent a wave of sleepiness and his vision darkened.

But he couldn’t help it and then, he fainted. When he woke up in a hospital room with his little brother, Gabriel, snuggled beside him, nurses and the police greeted him. There, he knew his mother killed herself.

“Amen.”

He took his mother’s words to his heart and swore that he would protect his brother. He did not let anyone take him or his brother or relied on adults because he trusted nobody. He appealed to the court at 16 years old that he could take care of himself and his brother. Fortunately, he was approved and he took multiple jobs to sustain their needs. He didn’t go to school, no, he didn’t have any time but he made sure that Gabriel did. He worked tirelessly sleeping barely 5 hours a day just to bring food to the table and have a roof over their heads. But despite his busy schedule, he made sure to be there on Gabriel's important days.

Years went by and they had formed a mundane lifestyle. And he tried so hard to keep it that way. But violence resided in his soul and the sinner in him was rekindled once more when his brother was found dead one early morning. He received a call when he was about to go to work and rushed to the crime scene when he heard the news. When he saw Gabriel’s lifeless body and the blood that pooled around him, the remaining hope in his heart was crushed and rage once more visited him and burned fiercely. The police ruled it as suicide as he was found in an alleyway in between buildings. But Miguel knew that it wasn't because of his brother who was so happy and talked his ear off about graduating and becoming a billionaire so he could support him and would never give up on life like that.

“Padre nuestro,”

Miguel decided to join the underworld where mafias and gangs ran about. He took jobs there not only for quick cash but to form connections and information. He investigated more about his brother's death and found out that he was bullied for a long time by a group of kids his age. Apparently, they picked on him because he was sorry for being dirty and a son of a filthy murderer. There was evidence on the autopsy that was not reported that he was burned, with cuts and bruises littered all over his body. A camera evidence that was also not submitted and was deleted (but luckily saved by the corrupt authorities who tried to keep it as a blackmail opportunity) showed that they pushed Gabriel to his death and they all laughed about it. Not only that but he wasn't their only victim.

Miguel felt so angry at himself and guilty that he didn't know that behind his brother's insistence on being covered up from head to toe, lies numerous wounds. Knowing him, he probably didn't tell him so he wouldn't worry about him. He wished he did. He wished Gabriel was a little more selfish and made him worry about him instead because he would protect him better.

With this, he took his time to learn more about the arrogant pricks that murdered his brother. He moved to a different city, to Nueva York, so that he had an alibi. He stalked the conceited brats who did the same to numerous people and their rich parents who didn’t give a shit whether their children murdered someone. He learned their routine. Their schedule. And when the time was right, he put a bullet through their heads one by one when they least expected it. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, come on man, I’m sorry,” they begged with tears and snot dripping, crawling backwards under his shadow. “Don’t kill me, please, I’ll give you anything.”

“Money? Do you want money? I’ll give you hundreds and thousands,” they always said the same thing, thinking that money was enough for him to forgive the suffering they had caused to his remaining family that they took away, the bruises and cuts on his brother’s body, the damage they had done on him mentally. “No? Half a billion? No, no! One billion!”

His jaw clenched. Pathetic pigs. He cocked and aimed it at them.

“No, no, no! NO—!” they stuttered and screamed but were cut off by the sound of a bullet fired by a gun with a muffler.

He wondered if they at least felt some remorse or at the very least thought about how Gabriel or the other kids they tortured and killed felt as they begged them to not hurt them. But he knew people like them, he had seen them countless times including his very own father. People like them didn’t care about anything or anyone other than themselves. These kids were just the same as them.

He made sure to clean up his tracks, deleted potential shreds of evidence, and made some story that would make their case solved and closed easily. He left the city swiftly and came back to his new home. With this, he tried to leave his old past behind and began his life anew.

“Que estás en el cielo.”

Miguel hated himself. He hated the fact that he killed his father which resulted in the death of his mother so that nobody will know that he killed him. He hated the fact that he was so ignorant of his brother's suffering that he had to be pushed to his death for him to realize that his brother was in pain. He hated the monster he turned out to be, always out for blood and killing people like it was nothing.

The sea of guilt and remorse suffocated him and he drowned himself in alcohol and women. The money he saved up which was supposed to be for Gabriel’s graduation gift was used on his vices. 

Day and night, his sins weighed heavy on his mind and not once, was he given at least a moment of peace.

“Santificado sea tu nombre.”

A knock snapped Miguel out of a trance as he smoked out of the window of his apartment. The wispy grey stench wafted in the air as he raised an eyebrow, wondering without much interest who could be knocking on his door. It couldn’t be the landlord as he just paid his month’s due. His past flings? Probably.

Knock. Knock.

He took another drag and inhaled as much as he could before he exhaled and extinguished it on the ashtray full of ashes and butts of leftover cigarettes.

“Alright, alright. I’m coming.”

He opened the door and found nobody, but a baby in a basket with a letter sticking out of the blankets wrapped around it. The sight of the baby filled him with anxiety and dread. He looked sideways, hoping to at least find who put the baby on his door but only the sight of closed doors greeted him. He had an inch of what was happening and he did not like it one bit. 

With a shaky sigh, he took the baby and cradled it in his arms. God, he didn’t even know its gender. But the sight of him made the baby giggle and coo at him and he bit his lip. Fuck. He opened the letter with his other hand and the words written on it confirmed his suspicions.

“It’s your baby, Miguel. You were the last one I hooked up with before I found out I was pregnant and even then, it was too late. She was too grown and I cannot abort her anymore. I don’t have any papers of her because I have no money and I can’t raise her.”

Miguel could feel a migraine forming and he rubbed his forehead. The baby must have found his distress amusing because it giggled once more and tried to grab his fingers. 

No. She. Not it. 

Fuck.

Miguel wasn’t ready to be a dad, he doesn’t even think he was suited to be one because he was a piece of shit but he took another look at her that was so snug and comfortable in his arms as she looked at him with wonder, he thought it wouldn’t be so bad to try to take care after her.

“Venga tu reino.”

A few years passed by and Miguel accepted his role as a father. He named the baby Gabriella after his late brother. He got into therapy and went back to work so he could raise her with no financial problems and so that he wouldn’t be a bad father to her. Gabriella was a handful child. He slept countless sleepless nights, often waking up early in the morning because she was crying. Sometimes it was because she was hungry, sometimes she just needed help to digest the milk, and sometimes there wasn’t any particular reason for her cries. But still, he cradled her in his embrace and sang lullabies to her softly.

It felt like it was just yesterday Miguel opened the door and found her on his doorstep. Gabriella has grown into a bright young child. She took after his looks as she inherited almost all of her genes from him. 

Oh, she was so lovely. She was the best of him, better than him and Miguel liked that because she deserved better. She made him believe that he wasn’t the worst piece of trash and that he wasn’t useless. She made him feel loved and he made sure she felt loved as well.

She was very much into soccer and he was so proud of her. He attended all of her games without a miss, winner or not. He was there with her by her side, teaching her how to be kind enough to not hurt anybody and allow herself to be hurt. He taught her to be emotional yet to also remain logical. He taught her to tell him anything yet also let her remain her own privacy.

Miguel loved her very much and she loved him very much as well. 

“Hágase tu voluntad en la tierra como en el cielo.”

But he was a sinner and there will be time that his sins would catch up to him. He understood this one day when he got home one afternoon as he got home after work and was greeted by his child, his precious baby, his Gabriella’s lifeless body in her blood.

The tears came fast and thick. He immediately cradled her into his arms and rocked her back and forth. He begged her to wake up, to open her eyes for Papa. To surprise him that this was just a prank. Or a dream. Anything.

Please, wake up. You can’t die yet. I haven’t lived the rest of my life with you yet. I haven’t seen you on your quinceañera yet or your graduation or the first time you get a job. I haven’t seen you get married or surprise me with grandchildren. 

I haven’t seen you live your life yet.

Please. Don’t do this to me.

“Danos hoy nuestro pan de cada día.”

Violence has always resided in his soul and with his daughter’s death, he committed his one last vengeance. He visited his old life once more. He got back with his connections and his trusted friends gave him whatever he needed in exchange for nothing and as their condolences.

The killers of his daughter were related to his previous crimes. They were related to the families of the people he killed and they decided to kill his daughter as their revenge.

And in return, hunted them all down. He hunted all families down and despite all the scars, all the sharp cuts, all the black and blue bruises, and all the bullets that pierced him, he never gave up and killed them all. Multiple mafia familias were down and he made sure that they couldn’t even think of getting revenge and that all they could do was bow before him.

“Hahaha, you son a bitch,” one cackled as he spat on him, “you deserve it all.”

“You heartless bitch, you’re the reason why all your family’s dead. Fucking cunt, you think you can revive them? Dream on.” he babbled his useless mouth on and wheezed.

“I know.” How could Miguel not know? For not one second that had gone by, he could never ever forget how he killed his family.

“Your death will not bring my family alive but it will make sure that any other families won’t be killed.” And with that, he pulled the trigger and let the loud sound of the gun resonate through the room. His head spat out red and some solids of his brain decorated the wall behind him. His blood dripped down and it joined the pool of the blood of the other corpses that lay dead in the room. The rays of the rising sun shone through the window and it gleamed on the pool of red. Silence filled the room and only the sound of his breaths remained.

Miguel’s eyes gave up suddenly and he fell to the ground on his knees with a harsh thud. With a tear, his shoulders loosened.

Finally. It’s over. Everything’s over.

Miguel should be glad that all of his enemies were gone and nobody would even dare to hurt him anymore but what does it all matter when everyone he held dear was gone?

“Perdona nuestras ofensas,”

Due to the rules of the underworld, the top dogs with Miguel O’Hara leading, their identities would be hidden and they would not be allowed to surrender themselves to the government as it could overthrow the black society altogether. Partly because of this, he turned to God and moved to a quaint town. He became a priest with the sole purpose of repentance and earning forgiveness for his sins. He didn't know if he was asking God to forgive him or his family who died because of him to forgive his carelessness in protecting them.

It was ironic really because he never really believed in God despite the nightly mass he, his brother, and his mother used to have. The words he uttered were redundant, merely sounds he couldn't understand nor tried to. When his mother died, he and Gabriel did the nightly mass in honour of their late mother. And when he died, he could only attend Sunday mass in the church with Gabriella because of the ache of missing his mother and brother yet still continue the tradition of being faithful to God. He wanted her to grow up good and kind so he taught her the values and morals of being a Catholic despite not fully believing in God.

A hypocrite, that's what he was and usually thought about as he led the mass during his schedule.

And he still was when a quiet mysterious woman moved into town. 

You.

“Como también nosotros perdonamos a los que nos ofenden.”

You appeared so suddenly out of nowhere in this town. He lived in the Church but in such a small town, words tend to spread easily. In just two days of your arrival, he already heard of a young woman who had just moved in. 

Miguel was a bit wary as this town barely had any people. Most residents were grandparents or older parents who were already retired and their children who left to move to the cities for bigger opportunities and education. He didn't know what you were thinking about coming here. Were you sent here by the underworld? No, it can't be. He was protected by his friends who ruled the underworld now. Did you have a past like him? Were you running away from something? He sighed as he shook his head. Then again, it was none of his business and it was most definitely not his right to pry.

The next Sunday was the first time he saw you. You sat there at the back, ushered by your neighbours, he presumed. In rows of people, you stood out so brightly. Your back was straight, there was elegance so blatant despite the plain clothes you wore. He met your gaze one too many times and noticed the way you hung onto every word he uttered.

And when the mass had ended he stayed around longer this time and talked with the locals a bit more. And without a doubt, your new friend introduced him to you.

“Oh good morning, Father O’Hara! Wonderful mass, by the way, I loved the homily, well, as usual, it really reflected my situation now with my son in college. Do you still remember?” Mrs. Lorraine greeted him with a handshake.

“Oh for God’s sake, Lorraine, yes Father still remembers that and I’m sure he appreciated that you love it. Don’t forget you’re here to introduce [Name] to him.” Mrs. Eleanor said, cutting Miguel off before he could even reply.

“Oh! Dear me, why yes,” with widened eyes, she laughed, “Yes, forgive me.”

“Father, this is [Name]. They just moved in here and I invited them to join the church.” she moved her body to show your figure and Miguel finally had a close look upon you. Your eyes stared at him and for a second, he felt like there were just the two of you. You looked at him with wonder and curiosity and Dios mío, you looked so innocent and he was reminded of the darkness that exists from within him. He felt like one touch and he could corrupt you easily. He clenched his jaw and furrowed his brow, desperately hiding any tremor in his composure.

“[Name], this is Father Miguel O’Hara. He moved into this town a little while ago and clearly, one of our only priests.”

“Oh, good morning, Father Miguel.” Christ, your voice was soft as a wind that tickled his heart. You held out your hand to him. “It's nice to meet you.”

“Good morning.” He nodded stiffly. He took your hand and shook it.

Even your palm was smooth and he forced the thought down to hold your hand longer.

“No nos dejes caer en tentación y líbranos del mal.”

You were kind. Endlessly so. You sponsored this town’s community event alongside donations to the church anonymously but everybody knew it was you. Everyone just decided to keep their silence to respect your decision in keeping your identity. 

You preferred to listen to others and learn more about them rather than talk about yourself. You always asked how everyone was doing and gave them gifts under the excuse of it being old despite it polished brand new. Whenever children or the grandchildren of the locals visited, you always stopped by their house and gave them little gifts as well.

Miguel had seen you interact with children multiple times whenever he was doing groceries and pass by at yours, he saw you giggling along with the children. He saw you reading books to them under the shade of a tree and rays of sunlight would gently decorate your faces and the winds would play with your hair. He saw you happy and the children happy with you as well.

And his heart throbbed at the sight of you each time but he swallowed the feelings forcibly down as his grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“Amén.”

He hated you.

He hated the way you invoke feelings in him. He hated the way you tempt him unknowingly and he cannot blame you to take any responsibility for the way you make him feel. He hated the way you make him want to sin again, to unleash the beast inside him he had caged for so long but for another different reasons entirely which was you.

He was a priest, someone who he tried so hard not to sin but you make him falter in his beliefs so effortlessly.

So he hid himself who had become a sinner once more just at the thoughts of you.

“En el nombre del Padre,”

But he was so weak for you.

After a mass one sunday morning, you asked him if you could have a talk with him just the two of you and somewhere private. Miguel knew he should have said no. He should have turned you away and pretend he has not been watching you from afar and from the corner of his eye. But he was weak for you and before he knew it, he let you in on his office room.

“Father Miguel, why are you ignoring me?” you asked so suddenly and he knew it was coming. He has turned away from you, pretending he doesn’t see you coming and would walk the other way. But he was still caught off guard. You leaned closer to him he could smell your delicious scent. He leaned away because his patience with you was just so little he might lose his hard-earned control.

“Pardon me, but you’re getting too close.” He said with gritted teeth and tight fists. You looked hurt at that. With widened eyes that were soon filled with dejection, you slowly rubbed your arm. Guilt flooded his being and as much as he wanted to apologize, he couldn’t. Any second with you drove him insane and he could only take so much of this. He didn’t want to lose his reason, his morals, his values as a Priest. He couldn’t bear to. But any more second with you, he just might lose it all for you. You bit your lip.

“Why do you hate me so much?” you whispered with small tears welling up your eyes and Miguel hated himself more. There was nothing more he wanted to do at the moment than to hold you and wipe your tears away himself. But he can’t. It’s wrong. Priests don’t get close like that to their fellow believers. 

“I don’t hate you—” he sighed as he looked away but you cut him off.

“Then why do you look away from me? Am I so undeserving for you to not look me in the eye? Am I so disgusting for you to get close to me? Am I so inadequate and worthless for you to treat me like you treat others?” you said harshly at him while tears slipped your eyes. You took a step at him with every word you said and he took a step back in every step you took until his back was pushed to the wall behind him. “So do not tell me that you don’t hate me when all you did made me feel like you despised my entire being.”

For fuck’s sake.

He grabbed your arm and turned your body, switching positions with his. He made sure to cover the back of your head so it wouldn’t hit the wall too hard and he growled under his breath.

“I do not hate you.” he said with gritted teeth. “I want you.”

Your eyes widened at that.

“What?” you confusingly and breathlessly asked.

“Every time I see you, there is nothing more than I want than to be with you. I look at your pretty face and I want to kiss you so bad. I look at your nice figure and I want to hold and caress you. I want you.” he panted silently, the words he never dared to even utter to himself outloud was finally out of his chest. And now that they were free, he looked at your eyes to see how would you react. Would you push him away and slap his face? Would you be disgusted with him you’d never want to see him anymore?

He would understand but he didn’t know if he could bear with your hatred.

“Then take me.” your hand encircled his neck and the other gently stroked his cheek.

No.

“I’m right here.”

I can’t.

“Show me you don’t truly hate me.”

It’s wrong.

“Show me how much you want me.”

In an instant, he captured his lips with yours as his hand slid to the back of your neck. At the touch of your lips, the hidden lust for you blossomed. He pressed his face to yours and yours closer to his deeper, his kiss burning so passionately and fiercely. You opened your mouth with a moan and he invited his tongue in, and he nearly groaned at your fragrance hynotizing him and your sweet taste that ignited a new kind of hunger for him. His tongue swriled with yours and together, they danced a dance that left him breathless.

He pulled away slightly and a web of both of your saliva disappeared. He stared at you as you panted. You looked at him pleadingly and your stare sent a rush of blood down in his pants. He wanted more and he knew you wanted the same.

And with that, he plunged to the roaring sea and its waging waves of lust.

“Y del Hijo,”

For you, he threw his title as a Priest and became just Miguel.

All for you, he returned to his origins and became a sinner once more.

“Y del Espíritu Santo,”

Each day and night, you invited him into your temple and he worshipped you. What once was just thoughts that tortured him became reality that gave him a glimpse of heaven. Your aroma engulfed him and filled his never-ending greed of you and your flavor satiated his endless glutton for you.

“Amen.”

As he finished his prayer, he stood up from kneeling and bowed to the Cross of the Lord. He fixed his clothes and the sounds of his footsteps against the tiles of the Church rang as he left with thoughts of you.

He wanted to hear your melody that was akin to the trumpets of the angels again. He wanted your soft and supple skin to be against his dark and rough ones. He wanted to be pressed under you with your legs on the either side of his head and your juices spill in his mouth. He wanted your warm cavern envoloped around him and to feel you come undone by him.

With a silent chuckle, he thought about how he tried so hard to not corrupt you by with his wicked thoughts only to be corrupted by you instead.

For Miguel O’Hara was a sinner and no matter how much he tried to change that, he will always be one. Violence has resided in his soul, along with anger that bubbled in his veins but time changed him and has now become lust that occupied his being along with the infinite greed and glutton that only wanted you.

[g-xix]

pleeeeaaaaase write more for george clarkey, absolutely obsessed with the last one

Nights Out | George Clarkey (fluff)

Say the word your wish is my command ~Freddie Mercury my bae And ofc, here's more G Clarkey content as requested... Quick picture:

Cutie. Anyways, enjoy the 1.2k wordcount George Clarkay smut!!

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Coming home drunk that mf would be soooo loving and touchy...

You'd be in the bedroom of your apartment, flipping pages when you first hear a distant shout from someone on the street. Probably some latenight, Friday party-goers. Nothing unusual in London. But then after a few minutes, you hear some shouts which are not in fact so distant. As a matter of fact, they sounded like they were coming from the stairwell of the apartment block.

Checking the time on the little digital clock, it read 1:34am, meaning that the stranger in the stairwell was not gonna be popular with the neighbours. That's when you realised that the stranger in the stairwell might not be a stranger after all.

Bookmarking the page hastily and sliding your feet into your fluffy slippers, you stumble-ran to the front door, opening it just in time to see a sober ArthurTV at the door- a contrastingly drunk Chippo and George in either arm.

"Thought I'd make sure he didn't bust his face open while trying to make it up the stairs." Arthur explained, and you could only give him a short hug and best wishes as George stumbled into the flat, Chip shouting "Bye sexy!" As your boyfriend blew a kiss and shut the door behind you. 

He turns to you slowly, lips stretched into a dopey smile as he sees his beautiful girlfriend after such a long night.

"God, has anyone told you how gorgeous you are?" He'd gush, putting his arms around your shoulders as you smiled at his antics, pecking his lips lightly, though he chased your lips as you pulled away- getting a proper thirty second snog before he pulled away with a contented grin on his lips. 

He'd take a moment to just stand still and look around at the interior of your shared flat- and though nothing had changed within the last four hours he had been out for- he still gave a nod of approval. 

"This is cute." He'd mumble, seeing the framed picture of the two of you which Cam had caught on a night out- the two of you bundled together in a corner- yourself staring up into George's eyes, whilst he looked up at you in adoration. He'd reacted the exact same way when yyou'd first printed and framed it, though clearly in his state he couldn't recall it. He picked up the frame to examine your faces further. "You're so pretty..."

You knew his words were just drunken rambles of all his thoughts, but it was still impossible not to love what came out of his mouth- and it was fair to say it had you in a blushing mess by the time he was done. 

"I got something for you whilst I was out." George garbled, his words becoming more tired as the buzz of the night wore off and the fuzzy scent of your vanilla candles clouded his senses in the most pleasant, domestic way it always did. 

"Did you really?" You'd raise a brow, not believing for a single second he would've stopped the night out for a moment to grab something for you. Even if you had asked him to get a pint of milk at some point. 

Fidgeting around in his cargo bottoms, he'd search through his pockets with a face of immense concentration, before his face lit up- hand withdrawing a crumpled and withering little flower, head weakly stood as George wielded it with a proud smile. 

"A daisy?" You'd question with a raised brow, wondering why he'd decided to pluck the small flower on his night out. 

"Yeah, cuz it's like you... The yellow bit's like the sun..."

"Which is like me?"

"Yeah because you're so... Bright."

You often wondered what the hell he meant and whether you should be flattered or offended with his drunk comments. He said it with such a loving sparkle in his eyes it only felt right to assume he was trying to be sentimental as he pushed it into your hand to see for yourself. 

Sighing with a smile and dropping the flower down onto the table, he'd wrap you in another hug from behind, resting his head ontop of yours and swaying you from side to side, breathing slower and squeezing your waist appreciatively. You'd only be able to hold his arms and let out a soft smile yourself, leaning into his touch despite wanting fully well to go back to sleep.

"C'mon, you, let's brush your teeth and get you a shower, Georgie..."

You'd push him into the bathroom, shutting the door despite his whining for you to sit on the bathtub and keep him company despite doing the menial task of brushing his teeth- instead finding the paracetamol in the apartment and leaving that on the bedside table on the left side (his side) of the bed. That way he could get over the headache in the morning easily. 

Returning back to the bathroom to check up and make sure he hadn't accidentally drowned himself in the shower or something stupid like that- you'd walk in to see the taps running into the bath- George drizzling some scented soaps into the stream and letting bubbles form across the surface- a few strays floating across the bathroom. 

"I thought I'd run us a bubble bath." He'd explain enthusiastically, dropping in one of those Lush bath bombs he'd bought last Christmas, yourself having to take take the bubble mixture away, as he'd already formed a mountain of froth.

But who were you to deny a bubble bath at two o'clock in the morning.

For some reason, you would have your back to the tub with his body slotted between your legs- his back leant into your body whilst he holds his hands on your thighs, gently tapping and massaging little patterns onto them beneath the water whilst he blows the bubbles away when they start getting too close to his face. 

You'd be left in charge of drizzling shampoo into his hair, massaging his scalp and trying not to get shampoo in his eyes, as well as scrubbing his upper body with whatever gel was available. Meanwhile he'd hum something familiar and mumble little nothings- whatever really came to his head.

Then, feeling a lot more relaxed and clean after that, he'd insist on returning "the favour" (you didn't really know what favour he meant) by carrying you the short distance back to bed- dropping you onto your side before jumping on top of you, making you groan as the bed bounced beneath the two of you, George letting out little giggles as he rolled over and onto his side, you clutching your stomach from the impact but still finding it within yourself to laugh at his stupid antics.

Pulling the duvet up and switching the lights off, his arm would find itself around your waist, hand resting against your stomach as you nestled back and into his body, finding comfort in his warmth whilst he placed a sweet kiss behind your ear. He'd tangle your legs together, at some point in the night even nestling his head in the crook of your neck, so that you could gently run your hands through his hair when you woke up, just savouring the feeling of your boyfriend and those lazy, love-filled mornings you could share together.

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Dirty Little Secret

Idol!Choi Yeonjun X Female Reader

🍰 - smutty 

Authors Note: Welcome in Angels! The wait is over, the yeonjun fic is finally here for you all! I’m sorry for it taking so long, I’ve had terrible writers block and literally spent hours rewriting this fic over and over again :( but it is finally here! I hope you all can enjoy this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it! <3

Warnings: oral(f receiving), sloppy makeout, spit swapping, tit groping, use of the nicknames “babygirl” and “gorgeous”, yeonjun is like a glorified sugar daddy but they’re in a very serious relationship --- MDNI PLEASE OR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED !

Triggers: none as far as im aware 

If you had known how this trip to the mall with yeonjun was going to go, you wouldn't have let him take you. You would've stayed at home with him and done something fun there instead.

However you didn't, and because of this you were almost banned from the Mall forever. How exactly did you get yourself in such a circumstance? Choi Yeonjun.

Yeonjun was a huge spoiler. He was constantly getting his girl whatever she wanted. Even things she had just tapped on online to look at. Within days it would be waiting on your doorstep in a pretty little box with a letter from him.

This usually happened when he was away on tour or away at the studio. Whenever he was home with you, you were constantly being taken out and spoiled all over town.

His favorite places to take you were lingerie stores and unique stores you had never been to before. To which he'd buy you everything you gave extra attention to.

Today was a day unlike any other. Yeonjun had just gotten home from tour and after being forced by you to rest at home for a while, he was ready to take you out. He wanted to buy you a brand new outfit for your date later tonight.

All was going well, until he set eyes on a lingerie store that had just opened up while he was away in the states. All thoughts of getting you a new outfit were erased from his mind as he lead you into the new store.

Choi Yeonjun had no shame when it came to lingerie stores and his girlfriend. He didn't care at all if fans caught sight of him or if paparazzi were passing by taking a photo. Though it was very unlikely due to the fact that paparazzi had no idea where the young couple lived.

You let him take the lead with picking out the sets for you to try on for him. Knowing that he always picked out the most prettiest outfits for his girl.

Once an armful was gathered for you to try on, you were sent into the dressing room. You didn't feel quite comfortable walking out of the room with each set on to model, so instead you opted to sending him photos.

That just wasn't enough for Yeonjun. Looking over each photo you sent him, taking in every single detail and approving the ones he liked. Though one thing caught his attention when you got to the fourth set. There was a bench behind you completely unoccupied but it seemed like it could be a tight squeeze.

Yeonjun was up for the challenge. Glancing around to see if anyone was watching as he flung open the door. Quickly covering his girlfriend's mouth as she began to complain and forcing himself inside with her.

The smirk he gave you once he was finally in and looking you over was quick to send a shiver down your spine. He only looked at you like that when he craved you. And boy did he crave you.

You had no time to complain about the tight squeeze before Yeonjun was crashing his plump lips to yours. Tongue hungrily entering your mouth and exploring. Teeth clashing together as he tried to force your mouths as close together as they could get. 

Biting down gently on your bottom lip and staring into your eyes, yeonjun smirked at the lust in your eyes. It had been a while since he had gotten to kiss you like that and he wanted more.

Letting out a soft gasp when his lips pressed back to yours as his left hand grabbed at your tit. Groping it harshly while trailing his lips down to your neck. Hand slowly trailing from your chest to your pussy.

“ you're so wet baby girl. ”. Those words had you turning bright red and seeing stars already. Turning your head away just to look back to him when he slowly went down on his knees.

Lifting your right leg over his shoulder to see your pussy better in the open crotch panties. This was definitely his favorite of the group and would most certainly be going home with you.

Quickly covering your mouth when yeonjun's tongue first pressed to your pussy. Absolutely terrified of getting caught in this predicament, but the fear made you more wet.

Right hand coming down to rest on his head as you kept your mouth covered and watched him. He was staring right back up at you as his tongue began to flick back and forth against your pretty little clit.

Only pulling back to mutter the words, “ you taste so good, gorgeous. ”.

It would've seemed sweet and innocent if his tongue wasn't pushing into your hole slowly causing you to instinctively clench around it. 

It wasn't often that oral would happen between you and Yeonjun but whenever he went down on you, it was like you were on cloud nine.

His tongue always hit the best places and caused you to see stars without just mere minutes of eating you out.

Growing more frantic to taste all of you, Yeonjun thrusted his tongue as deep as he could get it. Nose brushing just right against your clit now. His eyes falling shut as he lost himself.

Your moans were growing harder to hide the more Yeonjun ate you out. You didn't want to get caught though so you kept it covered. Hand getting tangled in his hair. Your orgasm was fast approaching.

Panting softly as you began to grind just right against his tongue. His nose bumping your clit had you falling apart at the seams. Cumming around his tongue with a shrill scream that was covered up with your shirt sleeve in your mouth.

Feeling the sensitivity creep in as yeonjun made sure you were cleaned properly with his tongue before standing up with you. Admiring the work he made of that beautiful face of yours.

Both of you were sneaking out of the dressing room once you had gotten your normal clothes on. Discarding the other sets you had put on and keeping the one you had just cum in. On the way to the cash register, Yeonjun spoke a single sentence that had you brighter than a tomato.

“ Just wait until we get home. My tongue won't be the only thing you'll be cumming on today, baby girl. ”

You sure loved the sound of that.

Authors ending note; So what did my Angels think of this? I put extra work into this one since its my first TxT smut oneshot! Hopefully it turned out pretty good, yeah? The Lee Know fic will be next and then after that my Jin fic, I don’t quite know when I’ll have those out yet but I’ll keep you guys posted! Tell me what you guys think in the comments below and tell me if you want more TxT! See you in the next one, Angels 🫶