#and I told her ‘don’t let him near you’

[luvyeni]

⚔️… ( drabble ) never let you leave ! ୨୧ 一 이희승 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ ヾ

yandere!heeseung・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・fingering , manipulation wc ・ ‎0.8k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. y/n & heeseung are on a break from their relationship even though hee opposed SOOO to get her to come back he kindof stalks her & makes her feel unsafe so she asks him to come back & protect her .. . ??

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 im a little rusty with yandere i hope you like it !!!

he was too controlling, he never let you be; always calling when you were out with friends, or out at work — or just in general he was always calling. he did this under the premise of “there are bad people out there” or “im just trying to protect you.” you could take it anymore. so you broke up with him, told him you just needed space.

he didn’t take it well at first; and you expected that. he cried, begged you to stay; he said he couldn’t live without you — that probably would’ve worked in the beginning, but you were tired. “i don’t even feel safe with you anymore heeseung, being with you scares me more than anything now.” and with that you left him.

he left you alone after that; you didn’t even see him anymore, in fact you didn’t see him for almost a month after that. his friends said all he did was stay home and play games, which made you sad, but this was for your happiness, so you couldn’t just back down. “as long as he gets the help he needs i wish him nothing but the best.”

heeseung in fact wasn’t getting the help he desperately needed. in fact he was getting worse, he was dying without you; he felt like he couldn’t breathe because he wasn’t near you — well not as close as he wanted to be.

you began to feel it a month later; you let your guard down, and that’s when you began to feel like you were being watched. you tried to ignore it, but it was hard when it was all the time, even in your apartment. you began to close the blinds. but that didn’t work, you felt like you were exposed in your own house.

“it’s heeseung isn’t it?” you friend said, you shook your head, quick to defend the boy. “no jake said he’s getting help.” what you didn’t know is that heeseung was always one step ahead of you, watching you. waiting for you. he saw your every move; even in your home with the cameras he installed.

you couldn’t take it anymore; you felt like you were going insane and nobody believed you, they thought you were just exhausted from work or something. “you just need sleep.” how could you sleep if you felt like someone was watching you!

you began to think maybe heeseung was right, maybe he was the only one that could protect you. maybe the world was too dangerous for you. which is why you found yourself knocking on his door. “poor baby.” he saw your tired state. “you look so tired.” he smiled to himself as you let yourself in. “i can’t sleep, i can’t go out alone, im scared someone will hurt me.” you rushed to say. “didn’t i tell you that?” he said. “you didn’t listen, now look.”

you wrapped your arms around him, and he wanted to hug you back; but he had to teach you a lesson — don’t ever think about leaving him again. “hee im so tired.” you looked up at him with those eyes. “yeah?” he said. “let’s get you to bed then.”

he guided you back to his room, laying you down on his bed. “please don’t go.” he smiled, laying next to you. “im not.” his hand was resting on your stomach. “i won't go anywhere.” his hands now moving. “you can just stay here with me.” you moaned softly. “heeseung.” he kissed the side of your head. “you don’t even have to go out, i’ll make all the money and spend it on you.” he said cupping your heat. “fuck you’re so wet.”

you couldn’t believe you fell for again, allowing his fingers to explore your insides like before. “you missed me?” you nodded. “use your fucking words.” he growled. “missed the the way i held and protected you.” he said. “the way i fucked you?” his fingers curled, hitting the spot that made you moan. “fuck hee please keep going , i need you.” you cried out. “need you so bad.”

he sped up, your hips following his movements. “you’re mine, everything you do is because i give you permission to.” you’d complain if he wasn’t fucking your open with his fingers. “you understand, you’re mines, your body is mine, your mind is mine?” you were desperate, ready to cum. “fuck yes hee im yours.” you screamed. “i’ll never leave again i promise.”

that was all he needed, before he whispered into your ear. “cum.” and it was like your body was finally at peace, your mind too. “hee.” your breathing was heavy from your orgasm, eyes heavy from your long exhaustion. “shh, go to sleep.” he said. “when you wake up we can handle me okay.” he held you softly in his arms. “im fine holding you just like this.” you slowly drifted off to sleep in what you thought was the safest place at the moment — but you couldn’t be far from wrong.

because you in fact were sleeping right in the arms of the reason you were feeling so unsettled and by time you woke up you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it… you gave yourself to him.

you were his now, all his and was never gonna share you again…

©️LUVYENI

[sweetdispatch]

The card - Q. Hughes

6 days of kinkmas

pairing: Quinn Hughes x girlfriend!reader

summary: Quinn and his girlfriend got into argument which led him to teach her manners

warning: NSFW, graphic sex (18+), safeword, dom!quinn, oral (f and m receiving), dacryphilia, slapping, orgasm denial

words: 1.8k

note: final day of kinkmas is here! but i have a surprise for 24th👀

---

Quinn, as a captain, was organising a Christmas party for his team. He needed your help but you were giving him a cold shoulder. A day earlier you two got into an argument and you didn’t want to forget this without apologies from him. You felt offended by his words and how low he thinks about you. As much as you wanted to help him, you didn’t want to give him satisfaction. 

“All I’m saying is that it would be nice if you would tell me about this party at least a week earlier. Not day before” You sighed, trying to explain to him why you were mad.

“You don’t do anything so what’s the issue that I told you this now?” 

“What is this supposed to mean?” His comment made you furrow yours eyebrows. 

“You’re sitting at home the whole day doing nothing. It shouldn’t make a difference that I told you now” He shrugged and you looked at him, shocked at the words he just said to you. You left the living room and went to the bedroom. 

This was yesterday and the two of you haven’t spoken since then. You had nothing to tell him because Quinn is the wrong one. If he thinks that you’re doing nothing, that’s exactly what you decided to do. You saw that he was struggling with preparing meals and cleaning at the same time but you were too stubborn to help him. 

“Could you help me with the cake? You're a much better baker than I am” He asked you politely when he saw you getting water from the fridge, but you hadn’t responded. You went back to the bathroom to do your makeup and acted like you hadn't heard anything. 

Quinn was furious at you. He couldn’t understand why you’re acting this way. In his mind, he hadn’t said anything wrong and you were the one who’s making a big deal of your conversation. He decided to let it slip for now, but after the party, he knew he’ll teach you manners. 

The party was going smoothly. You two acted like a loving couple around his teammates while you hadn’t sorted out the argument. You were chatting with other girlfriends when Quinn was standing with the boys near the kitchen island. One of the girls went to grab a drink and interrupted his conversation. 

“You’re a dick Quinn” She said and the boys looked at her. “You’re a dick for telling Y/N that she’s not doing anything in the house”

“Excuse me?” Quinn was taken aback by her words.

“She told us about your argument. How could you say this to her when she’s making everything so you could have a better life” She answered him and left. She sat on the couch and Quinn felt humiliated. 

The boys were chirping at him about this situation and he got even more mad at you. He started thinking about his plan to punish you for what just happened. You were completely unaware of the fact that one of the girls confronted Quinn and enjoyed the party. He could see you laughing from afar but he knew that you won’t be laughing when the two of you will be home alone. 

The party ended around midnight. When you closed the door after the last guests left, you sighed. All you wanted was to take off your makeup and get changed into something more comfortable. You started going to the bathroom when you heard Quinn. 

“Living room. Now” His voice didn’t leave a space for argument. You followed into the room and saw his furious face expression. “You think it’s funny to tell everyone about our conversation? You think this was nice when one of the girls came and called me a dick in front of others?” 

You were shocked. Yes, you told other girls about your argument but you never thought that they would direct this to him. You didn’t know what to say so you just stood there, waiting for his next move. 

“I’m using the card today” You froze hearing it. You completely forgot that a couple months ago you gave him a “card” that meant that he can use you however he wants and do whatever he wants. “You’re under my control and have nothing to say unless it’s a safeword, which is…?” He asked you to be sure you remember. 

“Sunflower” 

“Good, now I want you naked in the bedroom. Hands on your sides and no touching” 

You were turned on by the idea because sex with Quinn was always insane and you were curious what he’s gonna do to you. You took off your dress and threw it on the ground. You sat on the bed, waiting for him to come into the room. You trusted Quinn with your life and you knew that he would never hurt you but something in his voice made you nervous. You’ve been so caught up with your thoughts that you haven’t heard when he entered the room. He was standing only in his underwear. His voice brought you back from your trance. 

“Knees” You listened to him and positioned yourself in front of him. He was caressing your hair and tucked them behind your ear. “We could have a nice night but you had to run with your mouth. I think we need to put it into better use now. You already said too much” 

In a quick move, Quinn took off his underwear and you saw his hard dick. By instinct, you grabbed his dick and started playing with his length. He wasn’t happy with this and pulled your hair roughly so you could face him. 

“I said mouth. Don’t you dare to disobey me because it will end up even worse for you” You nodded and opened your mouth letting him put his dick inside. 

Quinn’s moves were rough. He was pushing his cock into your mouth without any mercy. You were gagging around him but this didn’t stop him. It turned him even more. You could feel the tip of his dick hitting your throat. Tears were spilling from your eyes and he laughed at the sight. Before he could cum in your mouth, he took out his dick. 

“Lay in the bed. Legs wide open” You do what he told you to. He kneeled in front of your pussy and started eating you out. “So wet and I’ve barely done anything” He chuckled and returned to licking your clit. 

Quinn pulled his fingers into your pussy and you moaned loudly. You felt incredible with his tongue on your clit. He could feel that you’re close to your orgasm but he stopped. You looked at him but he didn’t say anything. Only grabbed your hips and threw your body around. You were lying on your stomach when you heard.

“Ass up, face down” You positioned yourself and waited when you felt the first slap on your ass. You screamed by surprise not expecting this. “Next time you’ll want to act like a brat, remember how it feels” 

Quinn spanked you four more times. The pain became a pleasure for you and when the last spank laid, you moaned. He looked at your red ass for a couple seconds. He did this on purpose so you don’t know what he’s gonna do next. The next thing you felt was his dick deep buried inside of you. 

You were a mess under him. It felt so good when Quinn was fucking you roughly. You grabbed the sheet trying to find balance but with each thrust you were falling apart. It didn’t take him long enough to bring you close to your release. When he felt your muscles tightening around him, he pulled out. It was the second time when he didn’t let you cum.

“You’re not gonna cum until I say so” He stated and laid another spank on you. 

“Please Quinn, I need it” You begged him.

“Please Quinn, I need it” He mocked you. “You, my sweet girl don’t have anything to say” 

He thrusted into you again, this time you moaned loudly. He was keeping a hard pace and you went with your hand to touch yourself. Before you could do it, Quinn grabbed your wrist and placed your hand on your back. He did the same with your other hand. Now, you were totally at his mercy. Quinn was keeping your hands behind your back, still fucking into you. You were moaning and begging him to let you cum but he didn’t let you. Again, he pulled out of you and you cried. 

“I am gonna decide when you gonna cum, not you” He said not bothered by your tears.

Quinn threw you again and you were again on your back. He towered over you and thrusted into you again. You moaned but now, he shut you up with a kiss. It was the first time you tasted his lips today. His hand went to circulate your pussy and you started feeling overwhelmed. Other hand, I went to play with your boobs. This was all too much for you. All the touches, teasing and three denial orgasms. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Sunflower” You said repeatedly, each time quieter from another.

Quinn took his dick out of you and panicked. He knew that he fucked up because you never used it before. He pulled you into a hug and started caressing your back. 

“Shh, you did so well. You’re safe” He was whispering into your ear and you started crying into his shoulder. It was breaking his heart knowing that he’s the reason you’re crying. “I’m so sorry baby, tell me what I can do to make you feel better” 

“Just hold me please” Your voice was breaking at each word. Quinn hugged you tighter and let you calm down. After a couple of minutes, you spoke again. “Can we take a bath and forget about it?” 

“Yes and no” You looked at him. His thumb wiped your tears. “We can take a bath but we have to talk about what happened. I need to know what exactly happened to push you to say this word. And don’t you even think that’s embarrassing. That’s why we have the word. To use it when it’s too much” He placed a kiss on your forehead. 

Quinn raised you and went into a bathroom to prepare your bath so you could relax. He stayed by your side all the time, reassuming you that everything’s fine and you’re safe. You appreciated it that he didn’t leave you alone to deal with this but wanted to help you. When you were ready to leave, again he raised you and gently dressed you up in his shirt and laid you on bed. 

“We don’t have to talk about this now but tomorrow okay?” You nodded and Quinn pecked your lips. “Goodnight babe, I love you and I’m sorry for today… and yesterday” 

“Stop, we’ll talk about everything tomorrow, now let’s just sleep… I love you” You curled into his chest.

[jxwl4k]

Hi! It's me again with one more Bakugo request, and I'll leave you alone after this. So, it's another childhood friends scenario, but they've stood close the whole time. Somewhere down the line, they began flirting and kinda acting like a couple, which makes it clear to everyone that they like each other. However, the truth reveals that they're already together when they get caught having a really cute moment together, like baking or him tickling her and kissing. Also, thank you for writing my other request - I loved it!

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ already yours .𖥔 ݁ ˖

☘︎ . . . genre. fluff

☘︎ . . . pairings. bakugou x reader

☘︎ . . . request? yes by @rocketblasterr

childhood best friend to lovers.

Growing up next door to Bakugou Katsuki meant a life of chaotic adventures, loud bickering, and unspoken understanding. From the moment you both could walk, your moms swore you were a package deal. “Wherever YN goes, Katsuki’s not far behind.” They weren’t wrong.

You were the quiet shadow to Katsuki’s blazing presence. While he demanded attention, you held your ground right beside him, undeterred by his explosive personality. He dragged you into his games, made you his partner in crime, and over time, you became the one person who could hold your own against him.

By high school, things were different but still the same. The constant teasing from your friends—“Just date already!”—was shrugged off without a thought. “We’re just friends,” you’d say. Katsuki would grumble something similar, though his scowl was always a little darker when people brought it up.

But they weren’t wrong, not entirely. The shift between you two happened so naturally that neither of you could pinpoint the exact moment you became more than friends. Maybe it was that time you pulled him into a hug after he beat Todoroki at the Sports Festival. Or the late nights you spent studying at his place when he’d fall asleep sitting next to you, head lolling onto your shoulder. Or maybe it was the day he realized he didn’t just want to see you smiling—he wanted to be the reason you smiled.

Either way, it happened, and months ago, Katsuki finally admitted it. “Oi. I like you, dumbass. Don’t make me say it twice.” You hadn’t made him, not when your response was a breathless “Me too.”

The two of you didn’t make a big deal out of it. You were already so comfortable with each other that dating felt like a natural extension of what you had. There was no awkward phase, no dramatic confessions—just you and Katsuki, the same as always. Only now he held your hand sometimes, kissed you when no one was looking, and let his rough exterior soften just for you.

But you hadn’t told anyone. Why would you? It felt like yours, a quiet truth you didn’t need to announce. Besides, you were both sure people would overreact—because, of course, they would.

That’s how you found yourselves on a lazy Sunday afternoon, baking cookies in Katsuki’s kitchen. Well, you were baking, while Katsuki stood beside you, arms crossed and scowling like he was judging you on “Worst Cooks in Japan.”

“Your batter looks like shit,” he said flatly.

You huffed, rolling your eyes as you carefully spooned dough onto a tray. “Do you ever say anything nice? I’m doing just fine.”

“Tch.” Katsuki leaned in over your shoulder, his voice a low rumble near your ear. “You’re supposed to flatten it so it bakes even, dumbass.”

You turned to glare at him, only to realize how close he’d gotten. He was right there, head tilted slightly, crimson eyes watching you with that unreadable look he sometimes gave when he thought you weren’t paying attention. Your heart skipped.

“Then you do it, chef boy,” you shot back, pretending your face wasn’t heating up.

Katsuki smirked at your challenge. “Fine.” Without warning, he reached for the dough… and smeared a streak of flour across your cheek.

You gasped. “KATSUKI!”

A devilish grin tugged at his lips. “What? I’m helping.”

“Oh, you’re so dead,” you growled, grabbing a handful of flour.

What followed was chaos. Katsuki dodged every handful of flour you tried to fling at him, laughing in that rough, carefree way that made your chest tighten. “You call that an attack?” he taunted, wiping his hands on a dish towel like he was untouchable.

You narrowed your eyes. “Oh, you think you’re funny?”

You charged at him, aiming for the flour canister, but Katsuki was too quick. He grabbed you around the waist, pulling you into his arms with ease. You squirmed, kicking lightly as you laughed. “Let go, you big jerk!”

Katsuki didn’t. Instead, he grinned down at you, his hold loosening just enough for you to look up at him. The laughter died down, leaving just the two of you in the silence of the kitchen, breathing slightly uneven. Katsuki’s hands stayed firm at your waist, his thumb brushing gently against your side. His red eyes softened, searching your face like he was memorizing every detail.

For a moment, the world outside his kitchen didn’t exist.

Then he leaned down and kissed you.

It wasn’t your first kiss, but it still made your stomach flip in that way only Katsuki could manage. His lips were firm but careful, like he was trying to tell you something he couldn’t say out loud. You melted into him, hands curling into the fabric of his shirt.

Unfortunately, your bliss was short-lived.

“BAKUGOU! We’re—WAIT, WHAT?!”

You jolted away from Katsuki, turning to see Kirishima and Mina standing in the doorway, mouths hanging open. Mina’s squeal was ear-splitting. “I knew it!” she shouted, practically vibrating with excitement.

Kirishima grinned like he’d just discovered the meaning of life. “Oh, man! I told you two were acting different!”

Katsuki groaned, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “What the hell are you idiots doing in my house?”

“We came to get you for training, but this is way better!” Mina said, grabbing Kirishima’s arm. “You two—oh my god, you’re actually dating!”

You buried your face in your hands. “This is so embarrassing…”

“Don’t hide,” Mina teased. “You guys are adorable!”

“Shut it,” Katsuki barked, though his ears were flaming red.

Kirishima nudged him with a grin. “Don’t worry, Bakugou, you’re still the toughest guy we know. Just… softer when YN’s around.”

“OUT.” Katsuki pointed toward the door, glowering as Mina and Kirishima laughed their way out of the house.

When they were gone, you glanced at Katsuki, biting your lip to hold back a smile. “Well, the secret’s out.”

Katsuki sighed, rolling his eyes before pulling you into his arms again. “Tch. About time, I guess.”

“You’re not mad?”

He smirked, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Why would I be? I don’t care who knows. Long as you’re mine.”

Your heart fluttered at his words. “I’ve always been yours, Katsuki.”

His grip tightened slightly, and for once, Katsuki didn’t have a sharp reply. Instead, he held you closer, the scent of flour and vanilla filling the air around you.

And when Mina texted later with a million questions and teasing emojis, neither of you bothered to reply.

[callsigns-haze]

What ruined this Christmas so quickly? Lies. 2

Part 1 here

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x wife!reader

Summary: Just a few weeks before Christmas all goes downhill. You're left taking care of the kids and leaving work early and now your husbands brings up the topic of moving as soon as possible to San Diego. You're overwhelmed but he's willing to go no matter the lies he told.

Warnings: Mentions of throwing up, mentions of sickness, lies, overwhelmed reader, arguments SMUT

Word count: 10.6k

At 6 a.m., the household stirred to life, much earlier than Bradley had hoped. The first sound was Theo’s sharp cry from the baby mattress nestled beside the bed. The sudden noise startled him out of a restless sleep, his eyes snapping open. Before he could fully sit up, another sound followed—Anna’s small voice calling out from her bed in their shared room.

“Daddy! Theo’s crying!” she called, her voice groggy but insistent.

Bradley groaned softly, rubbing his hands over his face as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He glanced at Theo, whose little fists flailed in the air, his cries growing louder by the second.

“Alright, buddy, I’m coming,” Bradley muttered, his voice thick with sleep.

Anna was already out of her bed, her messy hair falling into her eyes as she clutched her blankie and stood near Theo’s mattress. She looked up at Bradley with wide eyes. “Is Theo okay?”

“He’s fine, Annabelle,” Bradley assured her as he scooped Theo up, gently rocking him. “He’s just hungry.”

Anna trailed behind him as he headed to the kitchen, still clutching her blanket and dragging it along the floor. “Can I help?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

“Why don’t you sit at the table, and I’ll get him a bottle?” Bradley suggested, nodding toward the dining area.

Anna complied, climbing up onto one of the chairs and resting her chin on her arms as she watched him move around the kitchen. Bradley quickly prepared a bottle, testing the temperature before settling into the chair beside Anna to feed Theo.

“Did you sleep okay, Banana?” he asked, glancing at her.

She nodded slowly, but then scrunched her nose. “Not really. I woke up a lot because Judy was coughing.”

Bradley frowned, his gaze flicking toward the hallway. He’d check on Judy as soon as Theo was settled. “She’s still not feeling good, huh?”

Anna shook her head solemnly. “No. She said her throat hurt last night.”

Bradley sighed, the worry from the night before creeping back in. Between Theo’s early wake-ups, Anna’s boundless energy, and Judy being sick, it was shaping up to be a long day. And you were still at work, likely swamped with tasks after your overnight shift.

“After this, we’ll check on Judy, okay?” he told her.

“Okay,” Anna agreed, stifling a yawn.

Bradley gently lifted the now-empty bottle from Theo’s little hands and brought him up to his shoulder, patting his back softly. Theo squirmed a little before letting out a small, satisfying burp.

“Good job, buddy,” Bradley murmured, his voice low and soothing.

He looked over at Anna, who was still sitting at the table, her head resting on her arms. “Hey, Banana, why don’t you go watch some TV for a bit? I’ll put on your cartoons.”

Anna perked up at the suggestion, nodding eagerly. “Can I watch the animal show?”

“Sure thing,” Bradley said with a tired smile as he stood up, balancing Theo in one arm. He guided Anna into the living room, turning on her favorite wildlife documentary. She climbed onto the couch, pulling her blanket up around her shoulders as she settled in.

With Anna occupied, Bradley carried Theo back into the kitchen and placed him in the bassinet by the window. “Alright, buddy, time for a little rest,” he whispered, gently tucking the baby blanket around him. Theo blinked up at him sleepily, his earlier cries now a distant memory.

Satisfied that Theo was settled, Bradley headed down the hall to Judy’s room. He pushed the door open quietly, peeking inside. Judy was still curled up in her bed, her face pale against the pillows. Her breathing was slow and a little raspy, and her hair was a messy halo around her head.

“Judy?” Bradley whispered, stepping closer.

She stirred at the sound of his voice, her eyes fluttering open. “Hi, Rooster,” she croaked, her voice hoarse.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Bradley said softly, sitting down on the edge of her bed. He reached out, brushing her hair back from her face. “How are you feeling?”

Judy shrugged weakly, her small shoulders barely moving. “Tired,” she murmured.

Bradley frowned, resting the back of his hand against her forehead. It was warm—warmer than it had been the night before. He grabbed the thermometer from her bedside table, turning it on before gently placing it in her ear.

When the thermometer beeped, he checked the reading: 101.5°F. A low-grade fever.

“Still warm, kiddo,” he said softly, setting the thermometer aside. “Your throat still hurting?”

Judy nodded, her face scrunching up slightly.

Bradley sighed, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead. “Alright. I’ll get you some medicine and a glass of water. Maybe some honey for your throat.”

“Okay,” Judy mumbled, her eyes already starting to close again.

Bradley stood and pulled the blankets up around her, tucking her in snugly. “I’ll be right back, Jude,” he promised, smoothing the covers over her.

Bradley descended the stairs quietly, the creak of the old wooden steps under his weight barely audible over the sound of the TV in the living room. He peeked over to check on Anna, who was completely engrossed in her wildlife show, her small form bundled under her blanket on the couch.

Satisfied she was occupied, he made his way into the kitchen. He opened the cabinet where you kept the kids’ medications, pulling out the liquid acetaminophen for Judy. He set the bottle on the counter, then grabbed a clean spoon from the drawer and filled a small glass with water.

Bradley thought for a moment, remembering your go-to remedy for sore throats. He reached for the honey jar, scooping out just a little to stir into the water. The warm mixture would be easier for her to sip without irritating her throat further.

Balancing the items in his hands, he glanced at the baby bassinet near the window. Theo was still sound asleep, his tiny chest rising and falling with steady breaths. Bradley took a moment to adjust the blanket over him before heading back toward the stairs.

As he passed through the living room, Anna looked up from the screen.

“Is Judy still sick?” she asked, her voice soft with concern.

“Yeah, Anna, she’s still not feeling great,” Bradley replied, pausing to ruffle her hair. “But I’m giving her some medicine and water. She’ll be okay.”

Anna nodded, her attention returning to the TV. Bradley continued upstairs, carefully balancing the glass and medicine bottle as he made his way back to Judy’s room.

Bradley stepped quietly into Judy’s room, the glass of honey water and the medicine bottle still in his hands. She was half-sitting up now, propped against her pillows, her pale face peeking out from under her blanket. Her tired eyes opened a little wider when she saw him.

“Hey, Jude,” he said softly, sitting down on the edge of her bed. He placed the glass on her bedside table, then unscrewed the cap from the medicine bottle, carefully pouring the correct dose into the small plastic cup.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he said gently, holding the cup out to her. “This will help with the fever and make you feel a little better.”

Judy wrinkled her nose but obediently reached for the cup. She hesitated for a moment, looking up at Bradley with a wary expression.

“It’s not going to taste good, is it?”

Bradley chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Probably not, but it’s quick. Just take it all at once, like a champ.”

Judy sighed and tipped the cup to her lips, swallowing the medicine. Almost immediately, her face scrunched up in discomfort. She started coughing and gagging, her small body jerking forward.

Bradley reacted instantly, grabbing the bucket you had placed beside her bed the night before. He held it in front of her as she coughed and retched, her face turning red.

“It’s okay, Judy,” he said quickly, rubbing her back as she spat into the bucket. “You’re alright. Just breathe.”

She sat back after a moment, her eyes watery and her breaths shaky. “It’s so gross,” she whined, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“I know, kiddo,” Bradley said, setting the bucket down on the floor within easy reach. “But you did it, and I’m proud of you. The worst part’s over now.”

Judy gave him a small nod, leaning back against her pillows. Bradley picked up the glass of honey water and handed it to her.

“Here, sip this,” he said. “It’ll help get rid of that taste.”

She took the glass and drank a little, her face relaxing slightly as the sweetness replaced the bitterness of the medicine.

“Better?” he asked.

She nodded again, her voice still a little hoarse. “Yeah, a little.”

Bradley smiled, tucking the blankets back around her. “Good. Now, just rest, okay? I’ll check on you in a bit.”

Judy yawned and settled deeper into the bed, her eyelids already drooping. Bradley picked up the medicine cup and the spoon, giving her one last look before quietly leaving the room, making a mental note to wash out the bucket later.

Bradley made his way downstairs, pausing briefly to check on Theo, who was still sound asleep in the bassinet. Anna was sprawled on the couch, her blanket twisted around her legs as she watched her wildlife show.

“Hey, Banana,” he called gently, stepping into the kitchen. “You hungry?”

Anna turned her head, her messy hair falling into her eyes. “Yes! Can I have pancakes?”

Bradley chuckled, opening the fridge to grab the milk and eggs. “Pancakes, huh? Alright, but you have to help me eat them. No leftovers today.”

“Deal!” Anna called, hopping off the couch and running to the kitchen table to watch him.

As he set the ingredients on the counter, Bradley pulled his phone from his pocket. He tapped out a quick text to you, knowing you’d probably already been up for hours.

Good morning. Everyone’s up—Theo cried at six and woke Anna. Judy’s still running a fever, but I gave her some medicine. Making pancakes for Anna now. Hope you’re doing okay at work.

He hit send, set the phone down on the counter, and grabbed a mixing bowl. Anna swung her legs back and forth from her chair, humming a little tune to herself as she watched him crack eggs into the bowl and whisk them together.

“Can I help stir?” she asked eagerly.

“Of course,” Bradley replied, sliding the bowl closer to her. He handed her the whisk, steadying her small hands as she giggled and stirred with all her might.

As Anna concentrated on her “stirring duties,” Bradley glanced at his phone, wondering if you’d have time to respond. Even though things were tense, he hoped the text would at least remind you he was trying to keep everything under control at home.

As Bradley finished helping Anna stir the pancake batter, a faint rustling sound came from the baby monitor on the counter. He glanced at the screen and saw Theo standing up in his crib, gripping the rails for balance with a wide, toothless grin. His messy curls flopped as he bounced slightly, his usual morning energy already on full display.

Bradley sighed, amused, and looked over at Anna. “Okay, kiddo, keep stirring, but don’t go near the pan, alright? I’ll be right back.”

Anna nodded seriously, though she wrinkled her nose. “I know, Daddy. I’m not a baby.”

“Yeah, well, just don’t let me smell burnt pancakes, okay?” he teased.

When he walked into the room room, the little boy’s face lit up. “Dada!” Theo chirped, gripping the crib rails tighter and bouncing again.

Bradley couldn’t help but smile. “Good morning to you too, buddy.” He reached into the crib and scooped Theo up, holding him close. Theo leaned into his chest, his little hand grabbing at Bradley’s shirt as he mumbled another “Dada,” the only word he could say so far.

“Let’s go get you some breakfast,” Bradley said, carrying him downstairs.

Back in the kitchen, Anna was standing on a chair near the stove, pointing at the pan dramatically. “Daddy! They’re burning!”

“Anna, what did I just say about getting near the pan?” Bradley said, his voice sharper than he intended as he hurried to the stove. He turned down the heat and flipped the pancakes, a couple of them slightly darker than intended.

“Sorry!” Anna said, shrinking back into her chair.

Bradley sighed, adjusting Theo in his arms and softening his tone. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Just let me handle the stove, alright?”

Anna nodded, and Bradley leaned over to kiss her head before moving Theo to his high chair. He strapped the toddler in and placed a few of his favourite baby biscuits on the tray. Theo immediately grabbed one and started gnawing on it, babbling happily between bites.

“Dada, dada,” Theo mumbled again, his eyes sparkling as he held up a soggy biscuit like it was a prize.

Bradley chuckled, wiping a bit of drool from Theo’s chin. “Yeah, that’s me, buddy.”

Bradley finished the last batch of pancakes, carefully flipping each one before stacking them on a plate. He grabbed the syrup, a small bowl of fruit, and a glass of milk for Anna, carrying everything over to the table.

“Alright, kiddo, dig in,” he said, setting the plate down in front of her.

Anna’s face lit up as she grabbed her fork. “Thanks, Daddy!”

“Just don’t eat too fast,” Bradley warned with a chuckle, ruffling her hair.

He turned his attention back to Theo, who was happily munching on his biscuits, his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. Bradley grabbed a small bowl and filled it with some mashed banana, sitting down in front of Theo to spoon-feed him between bites of his own breakfast.

“You’ve got it easy, little man,” Bradley joked as Theo eagerly opened his mouth for another bite. “No flipping pancakes for you, huh?”

Theo responded with a delighted, “Dada!”

Bradley smiled, but his mind wandered briefly to you. He wondered how your morning was going—whether you’d had a chance to breathe or if work had been as hectic as always. He checked his phone on the counter, but there wasn’t a reply yet to his earlier text.

Turning back to the kids, he saw Anna stabbing her pancakes with a fork, her mouth sticky with syrup. Theo babbled happily in his high chair, smearing mashed banana on his tray.

“Alright, Banana,” Bradley said, slipping back into her nickname without thinking. “After breakfast, it’s straight to the bath for you and your brother. Deal?”

Anna nodded with a grin. “Okay, but only if I can have bubbles!”

“Deal,” Bradley agreed, wiping a bit of banana from Theo’s face as he started planning out the rest of the morning. Breakfast, baths, checking on Judy again—it was all manageable.

---

You stood at the whiteboard, marker in hand, as you stared at the equations you’d been working on for the past hour. The formulas were complicated—strings of variables, constants, and brackets that seemed to taunt you with their complexity. Your lips pressed into a thin line as you tapped the end of the marker against your chin, trying to pinpoint where the calculations felt off.

The sound of the door creaking open barely registered until you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Still trying to crack the code, Einstein?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes as you turned to see Matt leaning casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. His shirt was untucked, and he had a coffee cup in hand, looking every bit the definition of laid-back.

“Don’t you have your own equations to mess up?” you shot back, crossing your arms.

Matt laughed, stepping into the room and taking a sip of his coffee. “Probably, but it’s more fun watching you battle it out with the whiteboard.” He tilted his head, squinting at your work. “Let me guess—still on the orbital trajectory adjustments for the new satellites?”

You turned back to the board with a huff. “It’s not the trajectory that’s the problem. It’s the stupid velocity constraints. They don’t balance with the fuel consumption models.” You gestured at the rows of calculations, frustration creeping into your voice. “If I adjust for the constraints, it throws off everything else.”

Matt took another sip of his coffee, stepping closer to inspect the equations. “You know, this whole perfectionist thing you’ve got going on—it’s a little exhausting to watch.”

“Then don’t watch,” you quipped, but there was a faint smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

“Come on, you’re killing me here,” Matt teased, gesturing at the board. “You’re like one of those geniuses in movies who refuses help until the last second when someone like me swoops in with a fresh perspective.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Fresh perspective, huh? Let me guess, you’re about to tell me to carry the two or something equally ground-breaking?”

Matt grinned. “No, but I’m just saying, you could take a break. Sometimes the answer shows up when you’re not trying so hard.”

You sighed, stepping back from the board and glancing at him. “You’re probably right. But if this doesn’t get done by tomorrow—”

“Yeah, yeah, the world ends,” Matt said with mock seriousness. “Look, I’ll even buy you a coffee if it’ll get you to step away for five minutes. You’re scary when you’re this focused.”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes again, but his teasing did make you feel a little lighter. “Fine, but only because I need caffeine.”

“Caffeine and maybe some company,” Matt added with a wink as he headed toward the door.

You chuckled, grabbing your notebook and following him out, already feeling the weight of the equations lifting just a little.

As you walked out of the office with Matt, your notebook tucked under your arm, he glanced sideways at you, his teasing grin fading into a more serious expression.

“Alright,” he said, stopping abruptly and turning to face you. “What the hell is going on with you?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What are you talking about?”

“You.” He gestured vaguely in your direction. “You’ve been wound tighter than usual all week. And before you try to brush me off with some ‘I’m fine,’ let me remind you that I’ve worked with you long enough to know when you’re not fine.”

You sighed, your shoulders slumping slightly. “Matt, it’s nothing. Just… normal life stuff. Kids, work, schedules—”

“And yet, you look like you haven’t slept in days, you’re laser-focused on this project like it’s your lifeline, and you’re snapping at everyone who so much as breathes wrong around you,” he said, crossing his arms. “So, no, it’s not nothing. Spill.”

You hesitated, the weight of everything that had been piling up threatening to spill over. Finally, you leaned against the wall and ran a hand through your hair. “Bradley’s leaving again.”

Matt frowned. “Leaving? Like, for work?”

“Yeah,” you said, your voice tinged with frustration. “He got orders to go back to Top Gun after New Year’s, and we just—” You stopped, shaking your head. “We just moved into a new house. The kids are finally settling in, and now we’re talking about uprooting everything again. And on top of that, I’ve been missing work because the kids keep getting sick. It’s just… a lot.”

Matt nodded, his expression softening. “Damn, that’s rough. So, what—you’re trying to juggle all this and act like it’s no big deal?”

You gave a half-hearted shrug. “What else am I supposed to do? Someone has to keep things running.”

He sighed, taking a step closer. “Look, I know you’re Superwoman and all, but even you can’t do everything on your own. It’s okay to admit you’re struggling.”

You let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, well, admitting it doesn’t exactly fix anything, does it?”

“No, but it might help you breathe for a second,” Matt said, his tone softer. “You don’t have to carry all this by yourself, you know.”

You looked down at the floor, his words hitting a little too close to home. After a moment, you pushed off the wall and straightened up. “Thanks, Matt. But right now, I just need to focus on getting through this project.”

He nodded, though his expression was still sceptical. “Alright. But if you need a break—or, you know, someone to vent to—I’m around. And I mean it. Don’t implode on me, okay?”

You managed a small smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

As you sat back down at your desk, your phone buzzed faintly against the table. You picked it up, your finger hovering over the screen as you noticed a text from Bradley—sent two hours ago.

Bradley: Good morning. Everyone’s up—Theo cried at six and woke Anna. Judy’s still running a fever, but I gave her some medicine. Making pancakes for Anna now. Hope you’re doing okay at work.

You exhaled, a mix of relief and guilt washing over you. Relief that he was managing things at home, and guilt that you hadn’t seen the message sooner. You could picture it all: Theo’s loud cries breaking the early morning quiet, Anna’s groggy but cheerful energy, Judy still curled up in bed trying to fight off her fever.

Your thumb hovered over the keyboard for a moment as you thought about how to respond. Finally, you typed back:

You: Hey, just saw this. Thanks for handling everything this morning. Hope Judy’s feeling better and Anna didn’t burn anything in the kitchen. I’m okay—just busy. Miss you.

You hit send and stared at the screen for a second, hoping he wasn’t feeling overwhelmed with the kids. Part of you wanted to check in more, to ask if he needed anything, but the other part knew he’d already tell you if things were falling apart.

---

Upstairs, Bradley stood in the bathroom, already drenched from the mini war happening in the tub. Anna sat in the bath surrounded by bubbles, her wet hair sticking to her cheeks as she held her rubber duck like a shield.

“Anna,” Bradley said, trying to keep his voice calm, “you have to let me rinse the shampoo out. It’s not an option.”

“No!” she squealed, clutching the duck tighter and leaning back against the tub. “It’ll get in my eyes!”

“It’s tear-free shampoo,” Bradley explained, holding the showerhead above her head. “I promise it won’t sting. Just tilt your head back for me.”

She squinted at him suspiciously, her lower lip sticking out. “You said that last time, and it still got in my eyes.”

“Because you moved, Banana,” Bradley countered, sighing. “If you stay still this time, it won’t happen. I’ll be super careful.”

Anna crossed her arms, her duck now floating aimlessly in the water. “Can I hold the sprayer instead?”

“No way,” Bradley replied quickly, knowing where that would lead. “Nice try, but you’re not soaking the walls again.”

She huffed dramatically but leaned her head back just enough for him to start rinsing her hair. Bradley kept one hand cupped above her forehead to shield her eyes, moving as quickly as he could.

“See? Almost done,” he said, his tone softening as he worked.

“Are you gonna make me wear my itchy shirt today?” she asked, her voice small but filled with suspicion.

“No itchy shirts,” Bradley promised. “You can wear your unicorn one. Deal?”

“Deal,” she muttered, relaxing slightly as he finished rinsing the last of the suds.

“Alright, all done!” Bradley announced, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her. He helped her out of the tub, lifting her onto the bath mat and crouching to dry her hair.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we have pancakes for dinner too?” she asked, flashing him a cheeky grin.

Bradley chuckled, rubbing the towel over her damp hair. “We’ll see. But only if you help clean up your toys this afternoon.”

Anna nodded solemnly, as if agreeing to a very serious contract. Bradley kissed the top of her wet head and sent her off to her room to get dressed.

“Need some help, Banana?” he asked, leaning against the doorway.

Anna turned, holding up two options—a bright pink shirt with a sequined unicorn and a plain blue one. “This one, right?” she asked, waving the unicorn shirt.

“That’s the one,” Bradley said, stepping inside to help her. “Let’s get your arms through.”

He crouched down, guiding her small arms into the sleeves before tugging the shirt over her head. Anna giggled as the sequins caught the light, and she twirled around dramatically once it was on.

“Perfect,” he said, grabbing a pair of leggings from the drawer. “How about these to match?”

“Okay, Daddy,” Anna agreed, hopping on one foot as he helped her pull the leggings up. Once she was dressed, she grabbed her teddy bear from the bed and gave Bradley a quick hug.

“Thanks, Banana,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “Now, go downstairs and grab your blanket if you want to watch TV while I get Theo ready, okay?”

“Okay!” she chirped, dashing out of the room with her bear in tow.

Bradley smiled to himself before heading down the hall to Theo’s room. He peeked in to find the little boy standing in his crib, clutching the bars and bouncing slightly. As soon as Theo spotted Bradley, his face lit up.

“Dada!” Theo babbled, his chubby hands reaching out.

“Morning, buddy,” Bradley said, scooping him up. Theo nuzzled into his shoulder, still warm and soft from sleep. “Let’s get you cleaned up, huh?”

Bradley carried Theo into the bathroom, where he had already set up the baby tub. Placing Theo on the changing table, he stripped him out of his pyjamas, chuckling as the baby wiggled and babbled nonsensically.

“You’ve got a lot to say this morning, huh?” Bradley said, tickling Theo’s belly and earning a squeal of laughter.

Once the baby was undressed, Bradley lowered him into the warm water, using a small cup to pour water over his head. Theo splashed happily, his tiny hands slapping the surface of the water as Bradley worked quickly to clean him.

“Alright, let’s get the wiggles out so we can finish this bath,” Bradley said, laughing as Theo kicked his feet, sending water everywhere.

By the time he had Theo clean, dried, and in a fresh onesie, Bradley’s shirt was damp again, but he didn’t mind. He kissed Theo’s forehead, earning another delighted babble, before carrying him downstairs to join Anna in the living room.

When Bradley reached the bottom of the stairs, carrying a freshly cleaned Theo on his hip, he stopped short. There, on the couch, was not only Anna wrapped in her favourite blanket, but also Judy, who was sitting upright with a smug little grin on her face.

“Judy,” Bradley said, raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing out of bed?”

She looked up at him innocently, the picture of health despite the pale flush still faintly dusting her cheeks. “I don’t even feel sick anymore,” she declared confidently.

Bradley narrowed his eyes playfully and set Theo down in his high chair before crossing his arms. “Oh, really? Because last I checked, you had a fever, were coughing, and didn’t even want to eat.”

Judy shrugged, pulling Anna’s blanket tighter around her shoulders. “I feel better now. Maybe it was just a short fever. Can I stay down here with Anna?”

Bradley sighed, walking over to her and kneeling down. He placed a hand gently on her forehead and frowned. “You still feel a little warm, Jude. And you were coughing your head off last night.”

“Not anymore!” she said quickly, her tone slightly defensive. “See? No coughing.”

As if to test her theory, she cleared her throat a little too theatrically, prompting Anna to giggle.

“Nice try, kiddo,” Bradley said, shaking his head. “You might feel better, but you’re not completely out of the woods yet. You still need to rest.”

“I was resting,” Judy protested, crossing her arms. “I was just resting down here instead of in bed.”

“Uh-huh,” Bradley said, unconvinced. He glanced at Anna, who was grinning and trying to hide behind her teddy bear. “Did you drag her down here, Banana?”

“No,” Anna said with a giggle. “She came by herself!”

Bradley chuckled despite himself, ruffling Judy’s hair. “Alright, you can stay for a little bit. But if you start feeling worse, back to bed you go. Deal?”

“Deal,” Judy said, her grin widening.

“Good,” Bradley said, standing up. “But no running around, and no bugging your sister. I’m serious.”

Judy nodded obediently, but the mischievous glint in her eye made Bradley sigh. He could already tell the two of them were going to keep him on his toes for the rest of the day.

Bradley sat at the kitchen table, Theo contentedly babbling in his high chair beside him while Anna and Judy were watching cartoons in the living room. His laptop was open in front of him, the faint glow of the screen reflecting in his furrowed expression as he scrolled through flights to San Diego. He knew he shouldn’t have been doing it now—not while you were still at work, not after last night’s argument—but the guilt weighed heavy on his chest as he clicked through dates and options.

The sound of his phone buzzing on the table jolted him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the screen: You calling.

His stomach sank. Swiping to answer, he quickly cleared his throat before pressing the phone to his ear.

“Hey,” he greeted softly, trying to keep his voice casual. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you replied, the faint hum of noise in the background suggesting you were still at the lab. “I just wanted to check in. How are things going there?”

Bradley glanced at the laptop screen guiltily before closing it with one hand, his voice even. “Everything’s good. Anna’s watching TV, Judy’s feeling a little better and came downstairs for a while. Theo’s eating some biscuits—he’s got crumbs everywhere.”

You let out a small laugh, but there was a tiredness behind it that didn’t go unnoticed. “Sounds like a regular circus.”

“Always is,” Bradley replied lightly, forcing a small chuckle of his own. He could still feel the guilt gnawing at him, threatening to push its way through. Tell her, his mind urged. Tell her the truth. But the words wouldn’t come. Not yet.

“How’s work?” he asked quickly, steering the conversation away from his internal struggle.

“Busy,” you admitted with a sigh. “I’m still stuck on these formulas, but Matt’s been helpful—well, as helpful as he can be while teasing me.”

Bradley smiled faintly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

“I hope so,” you replied. There was a brief pause before you asked, “How’s Judy? Is her fever still hanging on?”

“Yeah, a little,” he admitted. “But she says she feels better, so I’m keeping an eye on her. If it spikes again, I’ll call you.”

“Okay,” you murmured softly. “Thanks for handling everything today, Brad. I really appreciate it.”

Bradley’s throat tightened, the guilt pressing heavier now. He swallowed hard and leaned back in his chair, his free hand running through his hair. “Of course. You don’t even need to thank me.”

“I’ll be home in a few hours,” you said gently. “Hang in there.”

“You too,” he replied, his voice quieter now. “Drive safe.”

As the call ended, Bradley stared at his phone for a long moment before setting it face down on the table. He glanced at the closed laptop, a sinking feeling settling in his chest. He hated lying to you—hated himself for making this choice. But now the lie was already out there, and he wasn’t sure how to take it back.

“Dada?”

Theo’s little voice broke through his thoughts, the boy’s crumb-covered hands reaching toward him. Bradley managed a smile and leaned over to wipe Theo’s fingers clean. “Don’t worry, buddy,” he muttered softly, mostly to himself. “We’ll figure it out.”

Bradley sighed and pushed the laptop aside, rubbing his hands over his face as the weight of the morning settled over him. The guilt still gnawed at him, making his chest tight. He grabbed his phone off the table and unlocked it, navigating over to the Dagger Squad group chat. He hadn’t checked it since last night, when he’d texted them—“I’ll be there after New Year’s.”

The group chat was buzzing with unread messages.

Payback: Man, I can’t wait to get everyone back together. San Diego’s been too quiet without us.

Coyote: You say “quiet,” but I think you just miss the Hard Deck.

Fanboy: Don’t act like you don’t miss Penny’s drinks too, Coyote.

Phoenix: I miss Penny’s drinks. And her scolding Hangman when he gets out of line.

Bradley snorted quietly as he scrolled down. It was the usual banter, familiar and light-hearted—something that usually made him smile. But today, it just made his chest feel heavier.

Hangman: Rooster, you better not back out on us, man. You already promised.

Bradley stared at the screen, feeling his throat tighten again. I’ll be there after New Year’s. That’s what he’d told them last night. He hadn’t even mentioned it to you yet, at least not fully—not the truth.

Phoenix, always the perceptive one, had sent a single message underneath Hangman’s teasing.

Phoenix: Everything okay, Rooster?

Bradley hesitated, his thumb hovering over the screen. She was the only one who knew—who knew he had you, the kids, the life he’d built in Virginia. She hadn’t pried, but she always seemed to sense when something was off.

He started to type: Yeah, all good. Just a lot going on here.

But before he could hit send, Theo babbled again, snapping Bradley out of his daze. The little boy was playing with a biscuit, smacking it on the tray of his high chair. In the background, he heard Anna giggling at the TV, and Judy shifting on the couch.

Bradley exhaled sharply and backspaced the message. He tossed his phone onto the table, face down, just like before. He couldn’t deal with the Daggers right now—not when the truth was eating him alive. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep all the pieces of this lie together.

---

A couple of hours later, Bradley stood by the sliding glass door that led to the backyard, holding Theo securely on his hip. Judy and Anna were bundled up against the crisp air—Judy in her puffy jacket and a knit beanie, and Anna in a bright pink coat that made her look like a tiny marshmallow.

Despite still having a slight fever, Judy had begged to go outside, insisting she felt fine. Bradley had relented, on the condition that they both stayed dressed warmly and didn’t overdo it. So now, the two girls were darting around the small garden, giggling as they kicked a bright red ball back and forth.

“Careful, Jude,” Bradley called out, keeping his tone light but watchful. “Don’t overdo it, okay?”

“I’m fine, Dad!” Judy shouted back, grinning as she kicked the ball toward Anna, who squealed and chased after it with her arms flailing.

Theo babbled something incomprehensible and pointed toward his sisters, his little hand grasping the air. Bradley smiled and bounced him slightly on his hip. “You want to join them, huh, bud? Not yet—you’d get run over.”

Theo pouted dramatically, resting his head against Bradley’s shoulder, but his gaze never left the backyard.

Bradley shifted his weight, leaning against the doorframe as he watched the girls play. The sound of their laughter filled the air, and for a moment, the tension from earlier eased just a little. Anna tripped over her own feet and fell into the grass, bursting into a fit of giggles as Judy helped her up.

“You two good?” Bradley called out again, unable to stop himself from checking.

“Yes, Daddy!” Anna replied with a wide grin, waving at him before immediately turning her attention back to the ball.

“Alright, just remember the deal—if you start feeling tired, it’s back inside,” Bradley reminded Judy.

She didn’t answer, too focused on kicking the ball again, but Bradley could see the flush on her cheeks wasn’t just from the cold. He made a mental note to keep a close eye on her, just in case her fever crept back up.

Theo wiggled in his arms, and Bradley kissed the top of his head. “You’re a handful already, you know that?” he murmured, though the fondness in his tone made it clear he didn’t mean it.

The baby cooed in response, his small fingers grabbing at Bradley’s shirt, as if to say he wasn’t letting go anytime soon.

As Bradley adjusted Theo on his hip, keeping a close watch on the girls playing in the backyard, the faint sound of keys jingling at the front door caught his attention. His head turned toward the noise, and a second later, the door creaked open.

“Hey,” your voice called out, tired but warm. The sound of your bag dropping near the entryway followed, and Bradley could practically hear the relief in your movements—finally home after a long day.

“In here,” he called, his tone lifting as he shifted Theo slightly to free one hand.

A moment later, you stepped into the kitchen, your coat still on and your scarf loose around your neck. Your gaze softened the instant you saw Bradley standing by the door, Theo snuggled against his chest.

“Hi, Mama,” Bradley greeted with a small grin, nodding toward the baby in his arms. “Theo’s been waiting to see you all day. Isn’t that right, bud?”

Theo immediately perked up at the sound of your voice, his little arms reaching toward you with an excited babble.

“Oh, my sweet boy,” you cooed, stepping closer to take him from Bradley’s arms. Theo practically launched himself into your embrace, resting his head on your shoulder as you kissed the top of his fluffy hair.

“How was your day?” Bradley asked, stepping back slightly to give you space.

You let out a long sigh, still holding Theo close. “Exhausting. But it’s good to be home.” Your eyes drifted toward the sliding door, where Anna and Judy were still playing outside. “Why’s Judy out there? Isn’t she supposed to be resting?”

Bradley scratched the back of his neck, giving you a sheepish look. “She said she felt better, and her fever’s just barely hanging on. I figured a little fresh air wouldn’t hurt, as long as she’s bundled up and not running around too much.”

You narrowed your eyes at him playfully but didn’t push it. “Alright. I’ll trust your judgment for now.”

Bradley smirked, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “Good, because I already promised her.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, your exhaustion momentarily forgotten as Theo nuzzled closer to you, clearly happy to have you home. “Let me get changed, and then I’ll help with dinner.”

“I’ve got it covered,” Bradley assured you, motioning toward the counter where pancake batter was still visible. “Anna demanded pancakes this morning, and I’m pretty sure she’s going to want them again for dinner. I’ll handle it.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re sure?”

“Positive,” he said with a wink. “You’ve had a long day. Let me take care of the chaos for a little while longer.”

You smiled softly, leaning into him for a moment before heading upstairs, Theo still cradled against you. Bradley watched you go, his heart feeling a little lighter now that you were home.

Upstairs, you quickly peeled off your work clothes and slipped into something more comfortable—a soft hoodie and sweatpants, nothing underneath, craving the warmth and ease after a long day. The scent of home—faintly of pancakes and something floral from the detergent—wrapped around you as you brushed your fingers through your hair and headed back downstairs.

The moment your foot hit the bottom step, you were ambushed.

“Mama!” Anna’s voice rang out, high-pitched and gleeful as she launched herself at your legs, nearly knocking you off balance. Judy followed right behind, slightly more reserved but with an unmistakable brightness in her eyes.

“Mom’s home!” Judy called, her arms wrapping around your waist while Anna clung to your legs.

“Hey, girls,” you greeted, plastering on a smile and crouching down to hug them both. Anna nuzzled into your neck while Judy leaned her head against your shoulder.

“Dad let us play outside,” Judy said, glancing toward the kitchen, where Bradley was wiping down the counters. “Roo said I still needed a jacket, though.”

You managed a chuckle, kissing the top of Judy’s head. “Well, he was right about that.”

Judy looked up at you, a question in her eyes. “You’re okay, right?”

The question caught you off guard, and you forced another smile, nodding. “Of course, baby. I’m just a little tired from work.”

“Okay,” she said simply, her worry fading as Anna wriggled free from your arms and ran back toward the living room. Judy followed close behind, but not before giving you another quick hug.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Bradley came up behind you, his voice low. “You’re tense.”

You glanced at him, trying to play it off. “I’m fine. Just tired, like I told Judy.”

He gave you a look—one of those knowing looks that made it clear he wasn’t buying a word of it. “You’re faking it for them. I get it. But don’t do that with me.”

You sighed, rubbing at the back of your neck. “I just... it’s been a long day, Roo. Can we not do this right now?”

Bradley’s gaze softened at the use of his nickname. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Okay,” he said gently. “But we’re talking later. You know that, right?”

You nodded reluctantly, stepping away to join the girls in the living room. Your heart ached a little as you watched them laugh and play, their innocence filling the space while the weight of everything else lingered just beneath the surface.

Later in the evening, when the girls were distracted with a cartoon and Theo was dozing in his playpen, you found a moment with Bradley in the kitchen. He was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, sipping from a glass of water.

You stepped closer, lowering your voice to avoid the kids overhearing. “So… about those orders,” you began, keeping your tone casual but feeling your chest tighten.

Bradley set his glass down, his expression shifting slightly. “What about them?”

“Are they finalized? I mean, do you have to leave right after New Year’s, or is there some wiggle room?” You tried to sound neutral, but your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your hoodie betrayed your nerves.

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “They’re pretty firm,” he said after a beat. “It’s just a short thing. Five days, tops. Test some equipment, then I’m back here.”

You searched his face for reassurance, but something in his tone made your stomach twist. “And this just came in last night? You told me you got the email while I was at work, but… does it really have to be that soon?”

Bradley’s jaw tightened, and he pushed off the counter to stand closer to you. “Yeah, it does. They want it handled right away. I wouldn’t leave if it wasn’t important.”

You crossed your arms, leaning against the counter behind you. “It’s just… after everything we talked about last night, this feels sudden. Like we’re jumping into something before we’ve even had time to catch our breath.”

“I get that,” he said softly, his voice low. “I hate the timing, too. But it’s not like I have a choice.”

You nodded slowly, the tension in your chest still there but tempered by the sincerity in his voice. “Alright,” you said, though the word felt heavy. “If you say it’s necessary, I’ll trust you.”

He reached for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I wouldn’t lie to you about this. I know it’s a lot, but I promise, it’ll be fine. We’ll get through it, just like we always do.”

You squeezed his hand back, offering a small smile even as doubt lingered at the edges of your mind. “I hope so, Roo. I really do.”

Bradley rubbed the back of his neck and let out a breath. “I think I’m gonna go for a run,” he said abruptly, setting his water glass down on the counter.

You blinked at him, surprised. “A run? Right now?”

“Yeah,” he said, avoiding your eyes as he stretched his arms. “Just need to clear my head a bit.”

It wasn’t like him to go for a late-night run, and the excuse seemed thin, but you didn’t push. “Okay,” you said cautiously, tilting your head. “You sure everything’s alright?”

“Yeah,” he said too quickly. “I’ll be back in an hour or so. Don’t wait up.”

Before you could say anything else, he was out the door, leaving you standing in the kitchen, unease gnawing at your stomach.

-

The cold night air hit Bradley’s face as he jogged down the quiet street. His legs moved automatically, the familiar rhythm doing little to ease the weight in his chest. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out mid-stride, scrolling through his contacts before dialling Phoenix.

She picked up after a couple of rings. “Bradshaw, what’s up?”

He slowed to a brisk walk, his breath visible in the cool air. “I need to talk to someone.”

Her tone immediately shifted. “What’s going on? You sound off.”

Bradley hesitated, glancing up at the stars above him. “I lied to her, Phoenix. About the orders. I told her it’s official and I have to leave right after New Year’s, but it’s not. Not really.”

There was silence on the other end for a moment before she let out a sigh. “Bradley… why would you do that?”

“I don’t know!” he said, his frustration slipping into his voice. “I panicked. I know she doesn’t want to move again, not so soon. And she’s been exhausted with work and the kids. I just… I couldn’t tell her the truth, not after everything we talked about last night.”

Phoenix was quiet for a moment. “So what’s the plan? You can’t keep this up forever. She’s gonna find out.”

“I know,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll tell her eventually, but right now… I just needed to get out of the house. I couldn’t sit there and keep lying to her face.”

“Bradley,” she said, her voice firm but kind, “you’re making this harder on yourself. You need to come clean before this blows up in your face.”

He let out a heavy sigh, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. “Yeah, I know. I just… I hate disappointing her, Nat. She’s been through so much with me, and I keep dragging her into this Navy life, uprooting everything every few months. She deserves better.”

“You’re not giving her the chance to handle it,” Phoenix said gently. “She’s stronger than you think, Bradshaw. But you have to be honest with her, or this is gonna end badly.”

Bradley nodded to himself, even though she couldn’t see him. “You’re right,” he said quietly. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Good,” she said. “And call me if you need backup. You know I’m here for you.”

“Thanks, Nat,” he said, a hint of gratitude in his voice. “I appreciate it.”

“Anytime, Bradshaw. Now go finish your run and think about how you’re gonna fix this.”

He ended the call and slipped his phone back into his pocket, his feet picking up their pace again. The truth weighed heavily on him, but he knew Phoenix was right. He couldn’t keep this up much longer.

Bradley kept running for another hour, pounding the pavement beneath his feet as the chill in the air seeped through his clothes. Each stride felt like an attempt to outrun his guilt, but no matter how far he went, it lingered in his chest. His thoughts spiralled back to you, the look in your eyes earlier, and the way his lies felt heavier with every word he spoke.

The quiet streets of your neighbourhood were illuminated by scattered streetlights. Occasionally, the sound of his rhythmic breathing and footsteps was interrupted by a barking dog or the rustle of leaves. He picked up his pace, pushing himself harder, as if the physical exertion could bring clarity.

Finally, after an hour of circling the area, his body began to ache, and he slowed to a jog, then a walk. Bradley tugged his phone out of his pocket, glancing at the time. 10:47 PM. The house would be quiet by now.

When he stepped through the front door, the warmth of the home enveloped him, contrasting sharply with the night’s chill. He kicked off his sneakers quietly, leaving them by the door before padding into the dimly lit living room. Everything was still, and he immediately felt the familiar peace of home settle over him, though it was tinged with unease.

He made his way upstairs, his movements deliberate to avoid creaking the wooden steps. First, he peeked into Theo’s room. The baby was sound asleep in his crib, one tiny fist curled next to his cheek, his chest rising and falling softly. Bradley adjusted the blanket draped over him, a small smile tugging at his lips despite everything.

Next, he checked Anna’s room. She was sprawled across her bed, her blankie tangled around her legs, and her teddy bear clutched tightly against her chest. Bradley carefully tucked the blanket back over her, brushing a stray curl from her face. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake, mumbling something incoherent before settling again.

Finally, he opened Judy’s door just enough to see her. She was curled up under her comforter, her head resting on the pillow, her hair fanned out around her. The bucket from earlier sat untouched beside her bed, something he forgot to do. Her soft breathing reassured him that her fever seemed to have finally broken.

Satisfied that all the kids were okay, Bradley quietly shut her door and made his way to your shared room. The faint glow of your laptop illuminated the space as you sat cross-legged on the bed, engrossed in whatever you were working on. You were dressed in nothing but an oversized hoodie and sweatpants, your hair pulled into a loose bun.

You looked up when you heard him enter, your eyes meeting his. “Hey,” you said softly, glancing at the clock. “You were gone for a while.”

“Needed to clear my head,” he replied, his voice just as quiet. He moved toward the dresser, grabbing a clean shirt. “How’s work?”

“Fine,” you answered, your tone neutral as you looked back at your laptop. “Just finishing up some calculations for tomorrow.”

Bradley sat on the edge of the bed, the weight of the silence pressing down on him. He glanced at you as you tapped away on your laptop, your focus seemingly elsewhere, though he could sense the undercurrent of tension between you. Running a hand through his damp hair, he let out a sigh he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“When did we get so complicated?” he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You paused, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. Turning to face him, you raised an eyebrow, clearly taken off guard by his question. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, looking down at his hands. “I just feel like… like I keep screwing up. Like I don’t know how to make things easier for you—for us.”

Your gaze softened for a moment before you looked away, sighing softly. “Bradley, we’ve had a lot on our plate lately. Between the kids, your job, my job… it’s not exactly easy.”

“I know,” he murmured, his voice tinged with frustration. “But it feels like every time I try to do the right thing, I end up making it worse. I hate feeling like I’m letting you down.”

You leaned back against the headboard, closing your laptop. “You’re not letting me down,” you said gently, though your voice carried an edge of exhaustion. “I just wish we could have a little stability for once. For the kids, for us. Moving again so soon… it’s a lot, Bradley. It’s not just about the logistics—it’s everything.”

He nodded, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from blurting out the truth about his orders. The guilt was suffocating, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell you. Not yet.

“I’m trying,” he said finally, his voice thick.

“I know,” you replied, your tone softening again. “But sometimes it feels like we’re trying to solve different problems, and we’re not even on the same page.”

That cut deeper than he expected, and he could only nod, his throat tightening. He wanted to tell you everything, to come clean about the lies and the guilt eating away at him, but the words refused to come. Instead, he reached out, placing a hand lightly on your knee.

“I love you,” he said, his voice earnest. “Even when I screw up, even when things are complicated—I love you.”

You placed your hand over his, giving it a small squeeze. “I know you do, Bradley. I love you too.”

You reached for Bradley's hand, tugging him gently until he slid down onto the bed beside you. Without a word, you shifted, pulling him down flat on his back as you hovered above him. His eyes searched yours, the weight of his emotions evident in their warm brown depths.

Before he could say anything, you leaned down and kissed him, deeply and passionately, pouring every bit of love and frustration into the moment. His hands came up to cradle your face, holding you close as he kissed you back with equal intensity.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested together, both of you breathing heavily. You gave him a small, teasing smile, brushing a stray curl from his forehead.

“You chose me, Bradley,” you murmured, your voice soft but steady. “You chose to stop and help a complete stranger on the side of the road when her car broke down, even though she had a screaming four-month-old in the back seat.”

His lips curved into a small smile as he listened, his hands sliding down to rest on your waist.

“And then,” you continued, your tone turning playful, “you saw me again at the bar, and you still decided to ask me out, even though I had spit-up on my shirt and probably looked like I hadn’t slept in a week.”

Bradley chuckled at that, his fingers tightening gently on your sides.

“You chose me,” you said again, your voice softening as you looked down at him. “Even though I’ve screwed up plenty of times. Even though I came with a whole lot of baggage. And somehow, you still make me feel like I’m worth it.”

His smile faltered, and his gaze softened, guilt flickering in his expression. “You are worth it,” he said firmly. “Every bit of it. You and the kids are my whole world, Y/N.”

You leaned down, brushing your lips against his once more before pulling back just enough to look him in the eye. “So stop acting like you’re the only one who screws up. We’re in this together, okay? Even when it’s messy. Even when it’s complicated.”

Bradley nodded, his hands sliding up to your back, holding you close. “Okay,” he whispered.

Bradley grinned up at you, his hands sliding to rest on your hips as you straddled him. “You know,” he said, his voice light and teasing, “I don’t think either of us has been this eager in… ages.”

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head as you smirked down at him. “Oh? And whose fault is that, Roo?”

He chuckled, his thumb brushing against your waist. “Probably mine. Between deployments, kids, and life, I guess I’ve been slacking in the ‘sweep-you-off-your-feet’ department.”

You leaned down, your lips brushing his in a teasing kiss. “Hmm, maybe just a little,” you teased, pulling back with a playful glint in your eye. “But let’s be honest—when was the last time we had some proper alone time… you know, when I was ovulating?”

Bradley’s brows shot up, and a sly grin spread across his face. “Oh, you’re keeping track now? I didn’t know this was a strategic operation.”

You laughed, poking his chest lightly. “Strategic? Please. You know exactly what I mean. The stars aligning, the timing being right, the kids actually staying asleep…”

He groaned dramatically, dropping his head back against the pillow. “So, what you’re saying is, it’s been forever since we’ve had a shot at this under ideal conditions.”

“Exactly,” you replied with mock seriousness, folding your arms as if to make your point. “And guess what? I am ovulating right now, and we’re here, alone… at least for the moment.”

Bradley’s hands tightened on your hips, his grin softening into something more tender. “Well, then,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, “I guess it’d be a shame to waste this rare alignment of the universe.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped. “Smooth, Bradshaw. Very smooth.”

He leaned up, capturing your lips in a slow, deliberate kiss, his hands pulling you closer. “I might be smooth,” he murmured against your lips, “but you love me anyway.”

You smiled, threading your fingers through his hair. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” you teased, your voice softer now, the playful mood shifting into something more intimate.

Bradley’s eyes met yours, filled with warmth and love. “And you’re lucky I’m head over heels for you. Even when you’re giving me hell,” he said with a grin.

“Even when I’m giving you hell?” you repeated with mock offense, though your smile gave you away.

“Especially then,” he replied, pulling you down into another kiss.

Bradley smirked, his hands sliding up your sides as he tilted his head back against the pillow. “So, let me get this straight,” he began, his voice dripping with playful mockery. “You’re saying you’ve been walking around here, tracking your ovulation like it’s some top-secret NASA mission, and I’m just now finding out?”

You laughed, leaning closer, your hands braced on either side of his chest. “I didn’t think it was relevant to bring up until now,” you quipped. “You’ve been a little… distracted, Roo.”

“Oh, I’m distracted?” he shot back, raising an eyebrow. “You’re the one who has apparently been plotting a perfectly-timed rendezvous and didn’t clue me in.”

“Plotting?” You gasped in faux outrage, sitting up and folding your arms. “It’s not plotting—it’s practicality! You’re lucky I’m even trying to be efficient here, considering how often you’re either deployed or running off to fix the next crisis.”

Bradley chuckled, his hands finding your hips and pulling you back down toward him. “Efficient, huh? God, I love when you talk sexy like that,” he teased, a wicked grin playing on his lips.

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide your smile. “I’m being serious, Bradley!”

“Oh, I know you are,” he replied, his voice turning low and mock-serious to match yours. “You’re dead serious. I mean, what’s more romantic than hearing, ‘Hey, Roo, I’m ovulating—let’s get to it.’”

You smacked his chest lightly, unable to suppress your laughter. “You’re such a jerk!”

“But you love me,” he countered smugly, leaning up to nip playfully at your jawline.

“Do I?” you teased, feigning doubt.

“You do,” he said confidently, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke. “Because no one else could handle your spreadsheets and star charts for… whatever science-y ovulation data you’ve got going on over there.”

You laughed harder, shoving at his shoulder. “Oh, shut up, Bradshaw. It’s not that complicated!”

He grinned, pulling you flush against him as he buried his face in your neck, his laughter muffled against your skin. “Sure it’s not,” he teased. “But hey, since the universe apparently aligned for this moment, I’m not about to waste it.”

Bradley's teasing grin softened as his hands slid beneath the hem of your hoodie, his touch warm against your skin. “You know,” he murmured, his voice low, “I’m starting to think you’re overdressed for this conversation.”

You let out a soft laugh, arching a brow at him. “Is that so?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, his fingers brushing over your sides as he eased the hoodie up. “And since I’m already doing all the hard work, the least you can do is cooperate.”

“Oh, the hard work, huh?” you teased, lifting your arms so he could pull the hoodie over your head.

He tossed it aside with an exaggerated flourish, his eyes trailing over you with a mix of warmth and hunger. “See? Now this is much better.”

You rolled your eyes, a smirk tugging at your lips as your hands moved to the hem of his shirt. “Your turn, Bradshaw. Fair’s fair.”

He raised his arms obligingly, letting you tug his shirt off and revealing his toned chest. “There. Happy?”

“Getting there,” you teased, your hands sliding over his shoulders and down his chest, fingers tracing familiar lines and scars.

Bradley’s grin widened as he leaned in, his lips brushing your ear. “You’re being awfully slow tonight,” he murmured. “Not that I’m complaining… but I thought you were all about efficiency.”

“Efficient and thorough,” you countered, sliding your hands to the waistband of his sweatpants and tugging them down just enough to tease him.

He groaned, his hands gripping your waist and pulling you closer. “You’re gonna kill me,” he muttered, his voice low and husky.

“Not before I’m done with you,” you teased, leaning in to kiss him, slow and deep, as the rest of your clothes slowly joined the growing pile on the floor.

Bradley’s breaths grew heavier as his hands roamed over your body, his lips following wherever his fingers traced. His kisses were deliberate, slow yet urgent, as though he was savouring every inch of you while unable to get enough.

“God, you’re impossible,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and rough with need. “I swear, you make me feel like I’m drunk every time I touch you.”

Your laughter was soft, teasing, as your fingers tangled in his hair. “Drunk on what?” you asked playfully, your voice barely above a whisper.

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his gaze dark and hazy, filled with nothing but you. “Drunk on you,” he admitted, his tone utterly serious. His lips trailed down your neck, grazing your collarbone before he found his way lower. “On everything—your body, your mind, the way you feel, the way you sound…”

You gasped as his hands gripped your thighs, his touch firm yet reverent as he settled between them. “Bradley…”

He looked up at you, his lips brushing against your inner thigh. “Drunk on your pussy,” he murmured, his words sending shivers through you. His hands slid up your sides, grounding you and electrifying you all at once. “You do something to me, Y/N. Something I can’t ever get enough of.”

You could only whimper in response, the tension in the room palpable as his lips began to explore, his movements languid and worshipful, as though he wanted to memorize every reaction, every sound you made.

And as the night deepened, it was clear—Bradley was entirely lost in you, intoxicated in the best way possible. Hopefully tomorrow he'll get the urge to tell you.

[sugarushwriting]

reuniting with exotic dancer lee minho aka cat daddy

minho x reader

adult content featured, read at your own discretion

you watched him from afar in the club, not wanting to be a distraction. you wanted to see minho at work, in his element.

you knew if he saw you, you wouldn’t had been able to see him do his job. he’d want to immediately drag you to the back and have his way with you.

and you’d let him.

hips rolling, tongue out, he was feeling himself. and minho was a damn good dancer too.

it’s been only two weeks since your friends brought you here for the first time. two weeks, your mind consumed by lee minho.

cat daddy. an exotic dancer. a male stripper. you had no shame, but what would your parents say?

your eyes twitched as minho took the twizzler from a girl’s mouth whom he was dancing for. she blushed clapping her hands.

but minho didn’t have that twinkle in his eyes like he did when he saw you.

you crossed your legs in anticipation of him noticing you. just a look from him alone can get you to cry a river down below.

you came 2 hours away, no plan, no where to stay, just your bag and mind clouded with images of minho.

your heart raced when minho found you sitting at the bar. he stood up from finishing a dance for a woman, eyes found yours and immediately locked in.

with a smirk, he said goodbye to the women, and stalked towards you.

no words shared he grabbed your hand and led you to the back. same room from last time. once the door shut behind him, he took off the ears, pushing you against the door and kissed you.

your hands wrapped around his neck, his left hand going down to pick up your right leg from under your knee.

the kiss was insane, full of need between you two. “fuck, i missed you kitten.” minho whispered against your lips, before trailing his own lips down your neck, to your exposed shoulder.

you moaned in response, a smile playing on your lips. “i’ve missed you too, cat daddy.” you teased, minho gripping your ass in response.

nose to nose, minho kissed you once more, before walking backwards, tugging you along. he sat on the bed, and pulled you down to straddle his lap.

“what brings you here?” minho asked, loving your scent. he smiled up at you, his fingers teasing at your hips.

“i told you i missed you.” you sighed kissing his lips. “just wanna be near you again.”

“mhm, i get off in twenty minutes , think you can wait that long for me?”

you nodded. “yes.”

“you can stay here and wait—,”

you shook your head with a pout. “i want to watch you work.” you smiled shyly, playing with the tie he wore tonight.

minho smiled proudly. “of course. but don’t get jealous, okay? just doing my job.” he flicked your nose.

“pft,” you scoffed, “never.”

that was a complete and utter lie. soon as you went back out there, minho had one more table to dance for and the lady was not keeping her hands to herself.

her friends egging her on with cheers. minho was being his professional and polite self, allowing it. but you wasn’t going to allow it.

sneaking off, you found a guard and pointed towards the table. from what you read online about this place, the owner was a woman and she took her employees safety and comfort seriously.

you smiled as the table got scolded from the guard, stating touching the dancers were not allowed unless it was a private dance.

minho finished his work, his eyes meeting yours with a toying smile of his own. you weren’t slick of what you had done, but minho wasn’t going to complain.

he nodded towards the back once again, you grabbing your bag to follow him.

“let me go to the dressing room and change. stay here and behave?”

you nodded, following his instructions. he came back out just a few minutes later, dressed in jeans, a dark tee, and a hat sitting backwards on his head.

“you even look handsome in everyday clothes.” you groaned, minho laughing.

“where do you want to go kitten?”

“it’s kinda late, but i’m hungry.”

“i know a good bbq place.” minho grabbed your hand, leading you off.

at the bbq place, you and minho laughed and joked with one another, while he also talked about how became an exotic dancer.

basically it was a bet between he and his friends, he lost, got the job, and ended up loving it.

“is stripping your only job?” you asked, taking a bite of your food.

minho looked at you like he wanted to bite your head off. “dancing.” he corrected and you giggled.

“sorry sir. i mean is dancing your only job?” you teased.

minho laughed, a smirk playing on his lips at you calling him sir. “im a dancer at night and during the day.”

your eyes widened. “you dance during the day?”

“not the same dancing i do at the club.” minho explained as he ate, “i teach different dance classes. occasionally teaching boxing classes as well.”

“where?”

“my friend owns a gym. he works hard to keep kids off the street and occupied.”

you smiled at the twinkle in minho’s eyes. he also explained how he has three cats, all living with his family back home, and that’s where he got ‘cat daddy’ from, a collaboration of his friend bang chan suggesting it.

“oh, so that’s where the name came from.”

“where else could it come from?” he asked, serious.

“oh, uh, well,” you stumbled out, “me and my friends thought it meant something more, mhm, dirty.” you quieted down at the last part.

minho raised his eyebrow and then began laughing in his high pitch giggle. “kitten no. that is not how i got my stage name.”

your face got hot thinking about sana’s innuendo two weeks ago.

“what’s gotten you so flustered?”

you shook your head. “no—nothing. the bbq just starting to get to me.” you lied.

minho smiled at you, loving the way you get so flustered easily. you both finished the dinner in about two hours, just enjoying talking and time together.

“mhm ready to go?” minho asked after paying the bill. you nodded with a smile, knowing what could possibly come next.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

imagine, you on all fours on minho’s bed. your wrists tied together, then tied to his bed frame. your legs spread behind you. you leaned down on your elbows, your arms becoming sore.

“did i say to lay down?” minho asked deeply.

“minho, my arms are tired.” you huffed. and so is your ass, you thought.

“i don’t care.” he bit out. “do as i say kitten.”

you obliged, back to raising on your palms, your wrists becoming sore from being tied.

another slap came to your ass cheeks, probably already burning red against your skin. you screamed out, hoping none of minho’s neighbors or roommates heard you.

although he claimed his roommates were gone for the night, you didn’t believe him. knowing minho just a bit, he was probably even more excited to have his roommates hear you.

“please minho,” you begged.

“please what, kitten?”

“please fuck me. i missed you.” you continued to beg. pleading. the fact he still hasn’t touched you, tortured you.

his fingers plunged into your wet cunt, turned on from the spankings you received. in and out he thrusted, not being too gentle, but making sure not to cause you any pain either.

“so wet from only spankings, kitten? how naughty.” minho teased.

“minho, now is not the time to tease.” you groaned. you were sweaty, horny, needy, and irritated from being horny and needy.

“fine.” minho stated. what you couldn’t see is his smirk on his face, eyes twinkling with mischief. you were so drowned out from need, you hadn’t heard his movement.

you didn’t know his plan until his dick was buried in you, no warning, no easing into it, just full force.

“well that shut you up.” minho chuckled. you gripped the comforter in immense pleasure and relief. it was an awkward position as your wrists were still tied together the frame.

“please untie the wrists minho. please.”

he did. no argument. instead, after he untied, he pulled your wrists together in one of his hands behind your back and began pounding you ruthlessly from behind.

“missed you too kitten.”

[littlerequiem]

we mourned the sea ˚⁎⁺ chapter 3

> Crossposted on AO3

Levi hasn't seen you in a year, and he wonders how you will find him. Changed, perhaps. Lost, definitely. Or: After the war, you and Levi learn to live in this new world.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Levi Ackerman / Female Reader (Attack on Titan)

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 - Rated Explicit (18+). Post-Canon, Post-War, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Grumpy/Sunshine, Friends to Lovers, Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning, Chronic Pain, Panic Attack, Depression, Ambulatory Wheelchair Use, Irregular eating habits mentioned specifically in this chapter (WC: 5.5k)

( Previous chapter / Next chapter / WMTS' Masterlist )

-

You spot him alone in the library. Months have passed and winter has made its presence known.

Levi is staring at the fire. When his eyes lock with yours, you think they lack their usual cutting edge. Instead, he just looks tired.

“You gonna gawk much longer?” he asks. 

“Well…” Your grip on your book tightens; you stay rooted to your spot. “You don’t mind if I intrude?”

“This is a public space, isn’t it?”

It is, but it doesn’t mean you won’t ask.

Levi doesn’t leave when you sit on the sofa opposite him. The two of you stay like this, letting the crackling fire be your guiding light into the night.

.

.

.

It isn’t that Levi always preferred being alone, it’s just that it’s had a way of finding him.

Growing up, Levi remembers seeking affection—craving it, in fact—like a moth seeks a flame. Levi worshiped the ground his mother walked on, loved to listen to her speak, imitated her, anything to hear a “Well done, my Levi”. He imagines it made him a needy brat, that he was probably a burden to his mother.

When she died, he thinks that's when it happened. When he began to close in on himself, when he started to keep his emotions close to his heart.

"My boy, what wonderful craftsmanship!" Mr Jakowski's joyful voice assault's Levi's ears, plugging him out of his wandering thoughts.

Levi looks up at his boss, ignoring the smell of fresh paint.

Mr Jakowski is leaning over Levi’s shoulder, spectacles shining under the dim amber light. A large grin creeps on his rosy face, a contrast to the blue paint smeared on his white shirt. "What are ya making, hm? Is that something—"

"—personal," Levi cuts him off, shifting in his seat to conceal his work.

His boss lets out a loud bark. He pulls back from Levi. “Hah, mysterious as always, our Levi!”

Levi has been working at Mare Lumber Co. for a little more than a year now. His boss, Adam Jakowski, originally an Eldian from Liberio, is the sole carpenter in town. Levi likes working here. Most days, Levi tends to the till, manages the inventory, and assists Mr Jakowski with customer orders. It's routine work, really, but it feels good to be working with his hands, with his mind. 

“And how are you doing?” Mr Jakowski asks, propping his back against the edge of the counter, a habit of his whenever he chats idly with Levi. 

“I'm fine.”

"Are ya sure? You seem a little distracted, dear boy."

Mr Jakowski got in the habit of calling Levi ‘dear boy’ shortly after he took the job. At first, Levi told him off—sure, Mr Jakowski was older than Levi, but Levi was nearing his forties at this point. Levi was not a boy—never had been, perhaps.

And yet, he soon noticed something strange: every time he corrected the man, Mr Jakowski would correct himself, a distant glaze in his stare… only to make the same mistake the next day.

One day, his wife took Levi aside.

“You musn’t be cross with him, Levi,” Mrs Jakowski had said with a gentle voice. “My Adam and I… we lost our son ten years ago. Marleyans butchered him. And ‘dear boy’… that was Adam’s nickname for our son. Sometimes, I think… I think in his heart, my husband never quite got over it.”

After that, Levi never corrected Mr Jakowski again.

“Levi, are you listening to me?" Mr Jakowski laughs. "You’ve got that glaze in your eyes of a dreamer, the way my daughter be sometimes. Never seen it on ya before.”

Levi scowls. “I think you need to clean your glasses, old man.”

“Is it that missy staying at your house that’s got you looking so—”

“No.”

“Sure about that?”

At that, Levi stays silent. Of course, he’s sure. He'll be damned if he lets trifling innuendos get under his skin.

And yet, Mr Jakowski's eyes glint knowingly all the same, as if catching wind of something Levi isn't aware of. It almost makes Levi want to speak up (though, to say what?), but before he has the opportunity to say a thing, the man leaves him be. Levi listens to his receding footsteps and the tinkering noises soon coming from the workshop area of the store.

Levi reverts his attention onto the wooden figurine in his hands, casting it an altogether unimpressed look.

What he’s making… it’s stupid, isn’t it?

For the last week and a half, Levi has been using his lunch breaks to work on it. Right now, this wooden creation is simply a great blob of nothing. And yet, Levi can’t stop from continuing it. It started with your arrival, this idea, when something spurred deep in him to create and he doesn't know if it will lead to anything.

Perhaps he's wasting his time, perhaps—

The bells on the door chimes. Levi's eyes swerve up.

And he promptly places the figure on his lap, concealed right under the counter.

Because you've just entered the shop, greeting him with a pleasant smile. “Afternoon, Levi!” The door closes, light pooling around you, dewy and delicate. "Are you on your lunch break?"

Levi lifts a brow but gives you a slow nod. 

"Oh, good, I was scared I got your lunch time mixed up..." You lift a basket that was hidden behind your back, showing it off like it was some prized thing. “Ta-da!”

Levi just stares, not understanding what he's supposed to be seeing. 

“I brought lunch.” 

Oh, that's a first. You've never come all the way into town to visit his place of work, let alone have lunch with him. Is this because he accidentally let it slip that he sometimes skips lunch on his work days? You seemed particularly affronted last night; you'd washed the dishes grumbling something beneath your breath... 

“Miss Adler, is that you?” As if on cue, Mr Jakowski appears to Levi's left side, safety glasses still lodged on his head. He lets out a full-belly laugh, scratching the back of his neck. "I thought I recognized your melodic voice. It's good to see ya! I’ve been telling Levi to bring you around for some time now, but he's kept you all for himself."

"Has he, now?" you muse. "That's not very polite of you, is it, Levi?"

Levi keeps his expression blank.  

Mr Jakowski steps around the counter. "Is that lunch I see? You know, Levi rarely eats much in here."

“I know, that’s why I’ve come. I'm on a mission to change that, sir. I've brought lunch and even my secret trump card… cake!”

“You sure know the way to a man's heart, Miss Adler!” You pinch your lips, seemingly flustered, but Mr Jakowski is already shifting his attention to Levi, something almost devious splitting in his boss' expression. Levi's gaze narrows instantly, suspicious of whatever is to come next. “Now, you heard the lady, dear boy. You wouldn't want to reject the hospitality of such a kind woman, would ya?"

Levi considers Mr Jakowski. His offer sounds tempting enough, but Levi's already shirked his duties by working on his project. His lunch time is practically over...

His boss seems to read his mind. "Take an extra hour." Mr Jakowski walks over, squeezing Levi's shoulder—not painfully, but not lacking zest. The man leans closer, the smell of paint weaving into Levi's space once more. "Shop's quiet today, anyway—I'll handle it. And don't forget to hide that little secret of yours. Wouldn't want her to see your gift before it's finished, hm?"

Levi's eyes flicker from Mr Jakowski, then onto you. His shoulders rise... then fall again. He gives in with a sigh. You came all this way, after all, and Levi was never one to waste food.

“Fine,” Levi mutters, eying Mr Jakowski, “I'll be back in an hour, on the dot.”

.

.

.

“What are you reading?” you ask him one night. The two of you are at it again—sitting on different armchairs, reading in front of the fireplace. It's been a routine of yours these last evenings. 

“History books.”

You raise a questioning brow—that wasn't what you expected Levi to be interested in. 

Levi seems to pick up on your question before you even voice it.  “I want to understand why you upsiders do it.” 

Upsiders, the term coined by those living in the Underground for those living above.

You tilt your head. “Why we do what?”

“What you live for.”

.

.

.

Levi feels like he’s about to outright melt.

The park at this time of the day seems to gather heat like a damn magnet. Sitting on a picnic blanket under a large willow tree isn’t enough to stop sweat from coating his neck—summer is in full swing, and even the yellowing grass blades around them seem to feel its effects.

Over the last minutes, you’ve been telling him all about your morning: how you worked in the garden, how you cleaned up around the house.

“… then I went back into town to buy lunch," you explain, one hand outstretched as you caress the grass blades with the tip of your fingers. You seem content, relaxed. "I'm very excited to hear your thoughts on the cake, 'Vi. It’s a specialty from the Southern part of Marley, apparently.”

Levi squints, the eyelid on his bad eye trembling from the glare cast by the sun. Laid out between the two of you is something that’s just short of a small feast. Sandwiches, sliced fruits, fresh lemonade, and a takeaway box that contains what Levi can only guess is this infamous cake you're so excited to make him try. 

Vegetables, cheese, sugar. Levi still isn’t used to having these ingredients in such abundance. Maybe he never will be. 

But he certainly won't let any of it go to waste. 

"Hey, didn't I tell you to take it easy?" Levi mutters, picking up a cheese sandwich. "You didn't need to waste your free time doing all of this.”

"Come on, after my big freakout from last week, it's the least I could do."

"I told you, it was nothing—“

“But it wasn’t to me. I wanted to do this,” you cut in, weighing each word like it held its value in gold. Levi notices you reeling your hands into fists... only to be ushered out of existence as you shrug off the uncertainty. “Besides,” a bright smile brackets over your face, "all of this is keeping me busy. If I don’t do this, well… I've found that I just want to sleep all the time. At least, like this, I’m too occupied with thinking too much. Know what I mean?”

Levi thinks he does. It's why he always enjoyed cleaning so much, to some extent; it kept the edge off of things. He isn’t sure what that says about either you or him.

"I'm glad I could see where you work," you continue. "The shop has a certain aura to it, doesn't it?"

"It's the smell of saw dust and paint. You get used to it."

"I meant there's warmth to the interior." You snort, rolling a particular grass strand between your index, tugging at it without ripping it out. "But I like the smell, too, now that you mention it. I've only dabbled in oil paintings here and there, but it reminds me of that. I imagine adding color to something—anything, really—for a living must be rewarding. You get to style furniture according to someone's wishes, make sure it's dear and personal to them. That's pretty amazing, right?"

Levi almost smiles. Count on you to spin what some might consider mundane work and describe it as something magical. You've always had a knack for doing that, even in times of adversity. 

"And that boss of yours sure seems eccentric," you muse as you lean back, "bet he makes every day feel extra special.”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

Your eyes drift up to the sparse clouds. “Special’s… good. Special’s fun.”

Levi's lips twitch. Yes, he supposes that's true. Many things can be said about Mr Jakowski, but boring is not one of them.

"You and him are similar in that way," he murmurs beneath his breath. 

(You make every single of his day feel special, too.) 

A gentle breeze picks up the front section of your hair; it makes the smile on your face more noticeable, somehow more in the spotlight. For a moment, a delicate silence settles in, one filled with the sound of tree branches swaying above, its shadows moving across your face. Levi catches himself staring at you—again. Before he knows it, he's watching as you draw your attention on the food options laid on the picnic blanket. Your eyes stop onto a particular plate. 

Without even thinking about it, Levi raises the plate towards you.

You grin, grabbing a slice of spinach pie. "Thanks." As Levi retreats his hand back, placing the plate back on the picnic blanket, he notices you pausing. His eyes meet yours; your eyebrows knit together. "Hey, what's that on your hand?"   

Levi feels the heat of your attention as he glances down at his palm. Ah, that. The bandage. Levi forgot all about it. Earlier, while working on his personal woodwork project, Levi accidentally cut himself. The cut is superficial in nature, and the blood that leaked out of it felt excessive. Like his body was being dramatic for no good damn reason.

Unsurprisingly, your reaction blows out of proportion, too. "Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?" 

"S'fine." Levi now holds his sandwich with both hands, trying to shield his bandaged hand so you don't reach for it (somehow, he thinks you will). He's not sure how to handle your care right now, so he turns away from you, pretending to be interested in seagulls foraging nearby. "I patched it up."

“Still, you should disinfect it when we’re home…”

(Levi still isn’t used to that term of possession. We. Like it's his home, as much as much it's yours. Something shared.)

"I can make an ointment that'll speed up the healing process, perhaps, so you're not encumbered for very long,” you continue. Levi glances back at you. You're holding your chin thoughtfully. “I’ll need to go buy some tea tree oil for that. Maybe I should also stock up on ethanol and other essentials while I’m at it...”

The sight of you all pouty causes Levi to scoff. “Thought you weren’t a doctor no more?”

He takes the last bite of his cheese sandwich. 

“For you, Levi, always.”

Levi chokes. He begins to cough, the half-eaten bread hammering at his chest. 

Your hand is on his back just as soon as his coughing fit starts. "You okay?"

Levi nods with a blank expression, swatting your touch away. He stares at you from the corner of his eyes, disbelief lodged behind his gaze. Shit. Why do you have to say stuff like that? It's like you're trying to make his heart explode or some shit. 

“Cutting yourself at work and almost choking to death.” You whistle lowly. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re losing your touch, Ackerman.”

“I choked because of you, Adler.”

“Because of me?” You blow air with your lips. “Why, what did I do?”

“You—“ Levi feels himself growing hot—too hot. Blast this damn heat. “Forget it.”

You lean back, looking at him curiously. “Is this the fate that awaits me in a few years when I reach your age? Choking and half-finished sentences?”

Levi’s eyes narrow. “Well, aren't you full of jokes today?”

“Thanks. I’m trying real hard, in case you couldn’t tell.” You bite back a full-teeth grin; Levi hates how adorable you look, even when you're teasing him—especially when you're teasing him. “Maybe that’s what I should pursue next, huh? Comedian… that'd be quite the career change.”

Levi shakes his head. “I’ll have to support you financially for the rest of your days.” 

A burst of laughter rolls out of you. It makes Levi feel queasier still.

“Hey," you say once your laughter has dimmed down. Your gaze holds his, bright and true. "What were you working on anyway, that you ended up cutting yourself?”

“Nothing.” Levi doesn’t supply you with more information, the memory of the unfinished figure flashing in his mind. It's trivial, the sort of work he's been doing, especially compared to what Mr Jakowski builds. “Just keeping busy.”

Because Levi’s life is just that now. He has to keep himself busy, to fill it with things so he doesn’t stop moving.

“Hey, Levi?” Levi looks back at you, and you shoot him a lopsided smile. “Do you ever think your past self would believe you’re out here now, carving wood for a living?”

Levi considers your question. He’s not the sort of person to wonder about these questions, but he’s not surprised that you still are. 

The answer is simple. No, his past self wouldn’t believe it. His past self wouldn’t believe most of it.  

He tells you as much, aching to change the subject. “What about you? Picked up a pencil yet?”

“Hm… not yet. Haven’t been feeling it, to be honest." There's something a little sad hanging on your face for the shortest moment, only to be replaced by wide eyes and parted lips. “But, oh, I promise, that doesn't mean I don't like your gift or anything. The supplies you bought—I'll make sure they don't go to waste! I just—”

"Hey, breathe," Levi interrupts, his eyes charged on you. "It's fine if you don't. There's no pressure.”

Your shoulders deflate. You give him a tired smile. “Thanks.”

In the distance, a school bell rings. Children begin to pour out of the building, like a flock of birds leaving the nest, knowing it is there to come back to.

“Anyway,” you say, reaching for the sealed container. “Enough of that. It's time for my favorite part of any meal: sweets. I’m eager to know your thoughts on this lemon tart.”

(The answer? Levi will discover he has a taste for lemon desserts.)

After that day, it becomes a routine of sorts. You show up some days to have lunch with Levi. On the grass under the willow in Mare, you and Levi watch the sea drift from afar, cake laid out between the two of you.

.

.

.

“Oi, what’s this?”

You look up from your notes on your desk. Levi has barged into your office, holding the silver tin you asked to be delivered to him. 

"That's Valerian root,” you answer.

”Valerian root,” he repeats, eying you suspiciously. “Why?”

"Um... think of it as a gift, I guess?"

"Why? We’re not friends."

A grimace flashes on your face—ouch. So, Levi doesn't see you as a friend, even if you're starting to consider him as such, anyway.

"Well., I noticed you seem to have insomniac tendencies, so I...” You clear your throat, swatting a dismissive hand in the air. “If it makes it easier to accept it, think of it as a medical order."

"A medical order." Levi scrunches his nose, pinching his lips together. "And what does Valerian root do, anyway? "

"Valerian root is tea. Or well, not tea. It's an infusion. But you can brew it the same way and it helps... it helps to fall asleep."

.

.

.

When Levi comes home that night after work, the sun is setting low over the sea, a red dot over the horizon. There's a gentle breeze in the air, one that carries with it the smell of salt and sand from the beach just below the valley. 

As soon as Levi is home, he slips into his usual patterns. He takes his shoes off, swapping them for the soft slippers Gabi and Falco once gifted him. He grabs his indoor cane by the entrance, just where he left it. Then, like a rite of passage, he makes his way to the common room, expecting to find you. 

You're not there. Instead, the quaint room that serves as a kitchen, living room, and dining room is empty, a distinct smell of herbs in the air.

Levi recognizes the scent almost immediately; it's the same fragrance that hung around the Survey Corps infirmary on any given day. Frankly speaking, Levi equates the smell with, well, you. It's been years since he smelled it.  

Peppermint, chamomile, tea tree oil... there was always a particular mixture of herbs you favored to treat ailments. Funding within the Survey Corps was sparse, after all, all the more within the medical wing, so to remedy this, you had to get creative: you bought cheap herbs in bulk and created balms with what the Survey Corps could afford. The same herbs Levi now smells in the air.

And Levi suddenly gets a sense of...

Home. 

It's corny, really, that all of a sudden, he feels more at home than the home he's inhabited in the year of living alone. But maybe that's the thing about getting older; there's just smells that remind of the past, things that feel impossible not to acknowledge.

In a way, Levi is grateful that those scents are what he associates with your infirmary, with your hands. Later, when his leg was wounded, and he became accustomed to the stomach-flipping stench of strong antiseptic solutions prevalent in Marleyan hospital tents, the memory of you—of his fucked-up sense of home—remained untainted.

"Oh, fuck!"

A crash assaults Levi's ears. He turns, only to find you half-bent down, picking up a pile of books from the ground. You straighten back up, looking flustered at the sight of him.

"L-Levi,” you huff, “y-you scared the living out of me!"

Levi's brows draw low, shooting you an unimpressed look in return. "Then you should pay better attention." You're holding onto a bunch of books that pertain to gardening. 'Flower symbolism' reads one cover.  "If these were the streets, you'd be a dead woman by now."

His words cause you to roll your eyes at him, although a playful tug of a smile graces your lips not a second later. "This isn't the streets, 'Vi. There's no one out there to hurt me, least of all within the confines of this house."

Levi knows you make a point, but his nature has always been to be suspicious of everything, and that much hasn't changed here. He wishes you'd be a little more careful, at least for his sake.

"Anyway, welcome back... how was the rest of your day?" You dart past him, placing your pile of books on the kitchen table.

Levi notices you've changed since he last saw you; you're now wearing a long skirt that reaches below your knees. Levi has never seen you wear anything like this. He wonders if you got it at the market in Mare, or if this is something you bought on your travels.

"Levi?"

Levi swerves his attention back to you.

Right, your question.

"Same as always." The rest of his day was, in fact, just as Mr Jakowski had predicted. Quiet. "What's all of this, then? You starting a bookclub or something?"

"Not quite. I spent my afternoon at the public library. Have you been?" Levi shakes his head. "Walls, Levi, it's even bigger than the one we had back hom–I mean, back on Paradis." You pick up a random book, flip through it and show him a page that's all about flower propagation. "I'm gonna make sure your garden's perfect."

Levi’s brows scrunch low. Truth be told, he doesn't see the big deal with flowers. Aren’t there more practical things to grow, like vegetables? Flowers seem to take up place and suffer the risk of easy destruction.

But maybe it's simply not for him to understand. 

"Hey Levi, are you listening to me?"

"Yeah.”

"What was I talking about?"

Levi glances at you. There's a spark of defiance flashes in your stare. 

He crosses his arms over his chest, face impassive. "Something something... gardening."

You chuckle, placing the book back on the table. "Actually, I was asking you if I could get your opinion on where to plant what tomorrow. You've got the next two days off, right? Can I spare a moment of your time?"

Levi doesn't work Saturdays and Sundays. The weekend, as Marleyans call it, is for rest.

"Yeah, I'll help." 

"Great!"

With that decision out of the way, Levi leaves you to it. He stops in his bedroom to grab a clean change of clothes and then heads to the bathroom to start his rigorous pre-dinner routine (Levi's found that he will not, cannot, rest before he completes it). 

It all starts with a shower, where Levi rubs at his skin until it is raw and pink, massages his scalp and hair until it's lathered and soapy, the scent of his lemon-scented soap rampant. Once Levi is pleased that every part of him is clean, he rinses himself with hot water, the act oddly meditative as he feels every muscle, every bone in his body come undone, one limb after another.

As soon as he's done and toweled dry, it's shaving time. 

Tonight, as Levi lays out his shaving kit by the sink, he can't help but pause at the sight of his reflection.

Levi stares at himself. 

Over the last three years, time has caught up to him, in more ways than one. His hair has gotten longer, yes, but it's the strands of silver now framing his face that Levi lingers on. Then, there are wrinkles on the sides of his eyes, on his forehead, on his smile lines that are new. He's even accrued a collection of freckles on the ridge of his nose; somehow, he thinks the warmer weather in Marley is responsible for that. 

In some strange ways, with every new year Levi ages, he thinks he looks more and more like Kenny, minus the facial hair. That son-of-a-bitch got his way with him after all, it seems, and despite this, Levi suspects Kenny would still call him a runt if he were here standing next to him right now.

"Still can't grow facial hair, huh, kid?" Kenny would say. "And you're still just as short."  

Yeah, that sounds like Kenny alright. 

"Hey, 'Vi?” A shy knock makes Levi turn his head towards the door. “I forgot to give you the balm I made for your cut. Do you want it now?"

"Gimme a moment," he mumbles. "... I'll be right there."

Levi finishes his routine. He shaves his face and massages his leg. He changes into indoor clothes. 

By the time Levi’s done, he finds you sitting on the sofa, flipping through one of your books while stroking Scout. It seems you've already started the preparations for dinner; there's simmering onion soup that's replaced the previous smell of herbs over the stove.

This time, upon hearing him approach, both you and Scout look up, almost synchronically. It makes Levi's heart a little warm—why does it feel so strange to have an audience waiting for him? 

Before Levi can contemplate on this very question, you've swung to your feet. "Here, sit down; I’ll get the balm."

Levi does as he's told, taking a seat on the free spot—on the other side of the sofa, next to Scout. His peripheral catches you first washing your hands over the kitchen sink, then retrieving something from the ice-box. 

Scout's purr pulls him back to the sofa. The kitten has made her presence known, demanding attention from Levi, and Levi obliges her. He scratches her under her chin like he always does, using his unwounded hand to do so.

Soon, the cat's purr vibrates against his fingertips. 

"She misses you, you know." Levi glances over your shoulders. You're standing on his other side, bending down. "May I?" you ask, looking at his palm laid flat on the arms of the sofa.

Levi nods.

Carefully, you take his hand into your own, flipping it to remove the bandage and analyze the cut. The wound runs across the tender flesh of his palm, ending with his index. It's not a deep cut by any stretch of the imagination, but it is on his five-fingered hand. Just his luck. 

“Did you know that Scout sometimes goes into your bedroom, meowing into the void?" you say in passing, eyes focused on his wound. "It's like she's looking for your ghost or something.”

"That cat needs to get used to me being absent." 

"She's just attached to you. Can you blame her?"

Levi's throat goes thick. No, he supposes he can't blame Scout, not when he's felt that same emptiness himself before, knows how damaging it can be.

"Anyway, I hope she grows used to me being here, too. For now, she still refuses to enter my room when it's just the two of us, but I think we may bridge that gap soon." Your voice turns into a coarse whisper, leaning closer to Levi like Scout might somehow overhear—and understand you. "I may or may not have bribed her with some leftover tuna."

"You mean you’re spoiling her."

"Hey, all's fair in love and war." You lean back. A knowing smile tugs at your lip, delicate like the first bloom of spring. "Besides, there are worse things for a cat to be."

After that, you focus on tending to Levi's wound—disinfecting it, adding balm, wrapping a clean bandage by the careful press of your hands. It brings Levi back to the old days, when he'd watch you either tend to him or his comrades. There was always this intensity, this non-bullshit attitude, that would always wash over you. It made Levi aware just how seriously you took your job, how dedicated you were to your craft. It was one of the first things that made him respect you.

Now, as Levi watches you at it again, there is something else, too. Something that speaks volumes of just how touch-starved he's become. He tries to ignore the warmth that blooms under your touch, tries not to think about how long it’s been since anyone that wasn’t his doctor touched him like this.

He fails.

It might be why, when at last you seem satisfied with your work and rise to your feet, Levi finds himself doing the same. He stands, moving with no objective in sight, the scent of herbs and home and you beckoning him closer. 

As he does, he ends in your personal space, his fingers almost grazing yours. 

He freezes. 

You seem just as surprised to find him in your space. Levi watches as your lips subtly part, the smallest shift in your expression that narrows into your eyes widening. He listens to your breath catch; it makes the tip of his fingers tingle.

"Um... Levi?" 

Levi blinks, panic swelling in his chest, but before he can say a thing, a sudden "mrrrp" vibrates below. What happens next is a blur, but Scout has somehow jumped off the sofa, intertwining herself between you and him, and the sudden feeling of fur on your bare legs must have taken you by surprise.

Because the next moment, you’ve bumped the back of your calves against the edge of the sofa, almost tripping back. 

Luckily, if there's one thing that hasn't changed, it's Levi's instincts. He instantly latches onto your elbow, steadying you, your warmth blooming beneath his grasp. 

“Walls,” your voice vibrates against the shell of his ear, breathless. "... Thanks." 

You straighten, taking a subtle shift back. Levi finally lets go, clears his throat, and moves away. He flexes his hand, trying to rid himself of the tickling sensation he'd just felt. 

"It's nothing." He focuses on Scout, who's skittered away and in between the dining chairs, looking at you and Levi with wide eyes. Levi exhales harshly as he stares at her. "Tch, have a care, you damn cat. We're practically titan-sized to you; don’t creep around like that unless you want to end trampled on."

The rest of the evening is uneventful. Like every other evening since you moved in, you and Levi share a meal, seated at the dining table, facing the window with a viewpoint on the sea. You share tidbits of information you've learned about the village and its inhabitants, while Levi provides scarce comments here and there. You discuss Gabi and Falco’s upcoming visit for the solstice, and everything you plan to do with them.

Everything is just as Levi remembers it being. The setting is different, there are people missing… but there is something soothing that he is here now, with you, with scents that don't feel foreign, with foods that feel familiar. 

One thing does loom over Levi's mind, though.

Levi swears you drew closer when he stood.

.

.

.

One night, you fall asleep in front of the fireplace.

Come morning, Levi's gone, but there's a blanket draped over your body.

.

.

.

That night, Levi can't sleep. That in itself isn't shocking; Levi's always been a chronic insomniac. Still, when the telltale signs of a sleepless night make themselves known and Levi realizes he's in for one of those nights, he doesn't waste time. He gets up and goes to make himself a fresh cup of valerian root tea.

Half-way there, however, something stops him in his tracks.

It's your the door to your bedroom, half-ajar, warm light pooling out.

And Levi sees you.

You're on the floor, crouched over something. Next to you, it seems that your bribing paid off; Scout is by your side, staring at you with keen interest, tilting her head as she looks at your every movement. 

That's when Levi notices what you're doing, what you're twirling around one by one, as if to show the cat.

Your drawing materials, his gift to you. You've taken them out of the desk he built, laying them all on the floor to inspect them.

Pencils, an eraser, a notebook.

Huh.

-

Thanks for reading! This is a slow build into feelings and healing, but I hope the journey will be worth the read. If you have a minute, I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments/tags. Take care <3

[nerdycheol]

Courtside Hearts || C.S.C

Pairing | highschool!seungcheol x fem!reader

wc:732 words. Note: My first ever fic. Been meaning to write something about this gose seungcheol.

Feedbacks & reblogs are appreciated. English is not my first language.

You stood near the bleachers, the air thick with excitement. The loud squeak of sneakers against the polished gym floor mixed with the roar of the crowd, creating a rhythm that echoed in your chest. Boys howled, whistles pierced the air, and basketballs bounced in a constant drumbeat, heightening the electric atmosphere.

Seungcheol’s team was neck-and-neck with the opposing squad, every point hard-earned, every second fought for. Your eyes were glued to him—the way he moved, the determination etched on his face as sweat dripped from his brow. He was commanding on the court, his focus sharp as he signaled plays and dodged defenders.

When he was at the free throw line, your heart pounded so hard you could hear it in your ears. You crossed your fingers, muttering under your breath, “Come on, Cheol. You’ve got this.”

A girl next to you leaned closer, her grin teasing. “Your boyfriend’s good, but the guy on the other team’s totally stealing the show.”

You raised an eyebrow, shooting her a smirk without breaking your gaze from the court. “What are you talking about? My man’s the star.” Your voice brimmed with confidence, a pride you couldn’t mask even if you tried.

He dribbled twice, his hands steady despite the pressure. As the crowd quieted, you noticed the subtle twitch of his lips—a barely-there smile, almost as if he knew you were watching. Then, he bent his knees, flicked his wrist, and let the ball fly.

Time seemed to stretch as the ball arced through the air. The crowd held its breath—and then, swoosh. The ball swished through the net, clean and perfect. The gym erupted in cheers, and you threw your hands up, beaming with pride.

“That’s ma man!” you shouted, your voice cutting through the noise. For a fleeting second, Seungcheol’s eyes found yours amidst the chaos. He gave you a shy smile, his cheeks tinged red, but the sparkle in his eyes told you he heard you.

Seungcheol’s team won, and your excitement had you practically skipping toward the locker room. You could already picture him, sweaty but smiling, maybe even making a little joke with his teammates. You pushed the door open and found him sitting on the bench, his uniform sticking to his skin, but his grin as bright as ever. His teammates were laughing and nudging him with knowing smirks.

"Look who’s here," Jeonghan called out, his voice carrying over the chatter. “Your girlfriend’s here to see you, huh, Seungcheol?”

You felt your cheeks warm at their teasing, but you weren’t bothered. All you wanted was him. You stepped forward, eyes locked on his, and before anyone could say another word, he stood and closed the distance between you, pulling you into a quick kiss, his lips soft but full of meaning.

“Did you see that last shot?” he asked, pulling back just enough to look at you with that confident, playful glint in his eyes.

“Of course I did,” you grinned, stealing another kiss, this one lingering a little longer. You pulled away, your voice soft as you whispered, “You were amazing out there.”

Seungcheol’s teammates laughed and made a few more teasing comments, but he didn’t care. Not when you were in his arms. He leaned down, his lips brushing yours again before pulling away with a smile. “I’m glad you think so.” His eyes flickered over to his friends, who were still laughing, but he didn’t give them a second thought. His attention was all on you now.

“They’re gonna keep teasing me, aren’t they?” he murmured with a smirk.

You laughed, your hands resting on his chest. “Let them. They don’t understand that I’m the luckiest one here.”

With that, he kissed you again, a soft but definite press of his lips against yours, and for that moment, the rest of the world disappeared. Just the two of you, locked in your own little bubble, despite the teasing laughter and playful whistles echoing from his teammates.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered between kisses, his smile never fading.

[russellbby]

There’s always pressure😣

paring: charles leclerc x sister!f2 driver!reader, arthur leclerc x sister!f2 driver!reader

in which: she’s very proud of them after racing alongside each other, but the pressure is always still on her..

requested: yes, by anonymous: Leclerc!sister being a F2 driver, watching Arthur & Charles both driving in FP1 session and being very proud of them but also feels a bit left out and feels there is going to be so much more pressure on her

a/n: loved this request! Let me know if you want a part 2!

//

Y/n Leclerc, a rising talent that is currently driving in formula 2. She had just entered the f1 paddock to watch both her older brothers drive in FP1 together.

She smiled and waved at the cameras pointing to her, and made her way over to some of the fans that are waiting for her to sign stuff and take photos.

A few fans started to shout over to her..

“Imagine if you were driving today, Y/n!”

“Three Leclerc’s on the grid need to happen!”

“Why are you apart of Mercedes’s junior team and not Ferrari’s?”

“Don’t you feel like the black sheep of your family?”

“You need to get into f1 soon!”

Y/n smiled awkwardly when the fans shouted them, she quickly signed and took photos before heading her way to the Mercedes garage.

“Sweetheart, isn’t your whole family in Ferrari? What you doing here?” Susie Wolff, asked the young girl.

“Y/n, I told you that you don’t need to be anywhere near our garage today as both Arthur and Charles are in FP1 together” Toto said as he saw one of his junior drivers in the garage.

“I know, just don’t need to be reminded what’s happening today as I had enough of that walking into the paddock just now, I’m going to see Kimi so see you guys later” Y/n added as she left.

“Media never lets the kid breathe without comparing her to her brothers and why she’s not apart of the Ferrari junior team,” Toto said watching Y/n walk away.

“Well, she’s in great hands with us. Tell Lewis to keep an eye on her, he knows how to talk sense in her when she bottles up her feelings” Susie added.

//

“Y/n! There you are, where have you been?” Pascale asked her daughter who just entered the Ferrari garage.

“Just in Mercedes, sorry maman” Y/n mumbled as she stood by her mother.

“Toto and Susie told you that you didn’t need to be in there today due to this special moment between your brothers today” Pascale added.

“I know, sorry” Y/n replied quietly.

“Hey kiddo!” Carlos said as he messed up her hair making her slap him lightly.

“Hi Carlo! Do I need to remind you again not to touch my hair?” Y/n replied as she glared at him.

“Oh leave her alone,” Rebecca said as she appeared from behind Carlos.

“This is why I like her more than you!” Y/n teased as she hugged Rebecca.

“Love you too kiddo” Carlos mumbled.

A few moments later, Y/n watched as Charles and Arthur soon got into their cars and made their way out onto the track, she smiled proudly at them so ensure her mother and everyone she was happy but deep down she was feeling the opposite.

//

Y/n had managed to slip out of the Ferrari garage just before FP1 was finished. She quickly went back over to the Mercedes garage, before she was caught.

“Hey kid, you okay?” Lewis asked.

“Oh, hey Lew! I’m good!” Y/n replied.

“Why aren’t you in Ferrari? Family must be proud watching Charles and Arthur today, special moment for you all” Lewis added.

“Yeah, very proud of them” Y/n mumbled as she looked up to the TV screens that were showing Charles and Arthur with the whole family hugging.

“Shouldn’t you be with them?” Lewis asked.

“Rather stay out of the way, a moment for them to enjoy with the family” Y/n added.

“Y/n, c’mon kid you don’t need to pretend with me. Toto told me as he can read you like a book, I know you are feeling left out and you think there’s more pressure on you due to what the fans were saying when you walked in today” Lewis told her softly, as she look away.

“It’s not just confusing, I love them and very proud of them. But no one really takes notice of me, I feel left out and just adds more pressure to me as I’m their little sister and should be good at racing like them..” Y/n mumbled.

“Don’t even realise I’m gone..” Y/n whispered looking back to the TV screens that are showing what’s happening in the Ferrari garage.

“Hey, c’mon you’re still their little sister and you mean everything to your family. You are creating your own name for yourself in racing, you joined Mercedes which is a different route to both your brothers. I know how bad the media can be, you can’t let them bring you down as you are doing amazing in F2 right now” Lewis told her.

“Why are you so good at talking, I just want to be sad but you’re making it hard!” Y/n joked with a smile on her face.

“What can I say? C’mon, let’s go the hospitality as it will be comfortable and we can talk more” Lewis added as the youngest Leclerc nodded.

//

Lewis and Y/n has been in the hospitality for 30 minutes when Toto and Susie joined them, the five of them had been there for some time and Y/n kept getting messages from her mother..

Maman❤️

Y/n, darling! Where have you wondered off to?

You should be here with us all celebrating this special moment with your brothers!

It’s so disappointed in you, that you have decided not to be here!

You better be in Ferrari as soon as possible.

read

//

Part 2 anyone?👀

[talesfromawannabewriter]

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

Cain: (snorts) Like I’m supposed to believe the daughter of the first liar.

Charlie: That is it! I am so sick and tired of always being compared to my mom by others! Especially you! You don’t know a damn thing about me.

Cain: Not like your mother? Not like your MOTHER!? YOUR EXACTLY LIKE HER! Mixed in with father’s naive understanding of forgiveness and relationships! That just by clapping your hands, singing a few songs, and saying sorry automatically you can get away with murder! And by that I mean actual murder! You killed my mom!

Charlie: He came back!

Cain: Yeah but not before you killed half of the exorcists and pissed off Heaven just because you were upset!

Charlie: They were killing my people and going to destroy my hotel!

Cain: I can’t believe I’m saying this but you should’ve gone to Dad and told him about it! Or if not him some authority figure in Hell! Of my mother told you beforehand about it, then you should’ve just moved base! You and all your friends wouldn’t have blood on your hands if you had just stayed in your place!

Charlie: …My place?

Cain: Exactly your place. Staying on the sidelines and not involving yourself in the internal affairs of the sinners.

Charlie: They. Were. Killing. My. PEOPLE!!! I think if you were part of the majority who had to worry about it then you’d understand.

Cain: Mmm, no I wouldn’t because if I die then I die. And by the way even if there was salvation for sinners they wouldn’t take it. Because they are all selfish, self centered, self righteous, idiots who constantly had their chances to be better in life but they blew it! Charlie: Do you even hear yourself right now!

Cain leaned down in Charlie’s face as he growled out his words.

Cain: More often than not. But we are getting off track here. The point is that you are a perfect mix of your parents, but more so your mother. When you didn’t get your way like the spoiled brat you are, you went out and caused trouble. Then by batting your eyes and acting cute to anybody, mainly your daddy, you think you can get out of a situation Scott free. Just. Like. Lilith.

Cain felt a sharp sting as his face turned to the side. He couldn’t believe what just happened. Neither could Charlie. However, she still stood firm albeit shakily.

Charlie: I’m sorry Cain but you were asking for it.

Slowly Cain reeled his head back to look at her and Charlie felt a chill run down her spine as her eyes glowed red.

Cain: …That is it, I’m going to knock you into NEXT SINSMAS!!!

Charlie didn’t know how, it happened so fast, but the next thing she knew was that she was outside lying on the ground as Cain got on top of her. Thinking quickly she used her fireworks to blind side him as she tried making her getaway. However, Cain recovered quickly and simply grabbed her long legs. Using his legs he wrapped them around her. Making sure she wouldn’t get away this time.

After that the two started exchanging punches as they rolled around on the rough dirt. For a few minutes that’s all they were doing. Until Cain said,

Cain: Don’t forget you ain’t in ya castle anymore princess! You’re in my house now!

Was all he said as he delivered a powerful punch to her eye right as Charlie delivered an equally painful one to his nose. They both screamed as they rushed to let go of the other. Charlie grabbed onto her eye as it was painfully shut closed and started to throb. Cain held his broken nose as it kept gushing out red, near black blood. The only thing that could be heard now was their heavy breathing.

For a few minutes that’s all they did was catch their breath. Until unable to bear the pain anymore collapsed onto the ground. Their breathing slowed, not to an alarming degree but still. They both took to staring at the orange, reddish sky. Not saying a single word to each other until Charlie broke the silence.

Charlie: Why do you hate me Cain? I know it’s not because of my mom or dad.

The eldest Morningstar child took his time for his answer.

Cain: …I don’t hate you Charlie. I think I just wish sometimes for you to have never been born.

The First Anti-Christ

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

(excuse me for the long prologue)

Anti Christ, the child of the fallen one, the devil. Everyone knows of the name and what it means. However, they don’t know of WHO that child is do they? Everyone thinks that the child will make themselves known as they bring on the end of humanity. What people don’t realize is that the anti-Christ has already walked upon the Earth.

In fact he was the first to be born on the planet. You see he was one of the very first humans. The very first child and son of the mother of humanity, Adam the first omega. His name was Cain.

Now many must be wondering on how this came to be. Why did it happen. How and why did the first omega manage to give birth to the fallen one’s offspring. All will be explained here, in this story.

A long, long, long, time ago when the Earth was still young the creator of it had decided on what its final inhabitants would be. They were called humans, the very first of their kind. He made them into something special. With their names came their designations.

Lilith the first woman and alpha

Adam the first man and omega

He made the two to be companions, to watch over another as one would for a friend or as he hoped like siblings. However, his other creations had other plans. While the Lord was busy attending to his purpose of watching over the universe. The other creations, the angels went down to the humans and they told the two that they were more than just companions. They told them that they were mates and they would bring forth true humanity.

Both were confused and asked how? The angels told them that once a month Adam’s womb would welcome Lilith’s seed and instructed him for when the time came for Adam to lay on his back and to spread his legs for his mate. When they heard of this both were rather disgusted by it. They hadn’t known each other for long but they simply weren’t compatible in that way. They couldn’t even bother to be friends for they both had too many differences that often clashed with each other.

While Adam was energetic and outgoing, Lilith was reserved and careful. It would often cause arguments from the two, especially when it came to their duties. Their first duties, of naming and caring for everything in the garden. Lilith thought Adam to be immature. Adam thought Lilith to be demanding. Both seemed to think that nothing was ever good enough for each person. One thing they both could agree on is that they did not wish to be mates.

Still Adam did not wish to upset the angels and simply bowed his head and nodded submissively. They began to explain other sets of rules that both were to follow. Lilith as the alpha was to always provide and care for her omega. Adam as the omega was to always follow her way and submit to his alpha. Both were to bring children into this world.

Lilith would become the father of humanity. While Adam would become the mother of humanity.

Lilith, disgusted at the thought, disagreed wholeheartedly. She fled from the garden and away from the omega. Hoping to never set another foot in there again. She was found by someone, an angel of the Lord himself, whom she would soon call a friend and sometime after that a husband. Though she didn’t trust him at first she eventually told the angel of why she ran from paradise.

The angel was shocked and confused. Why would his siblings do that? Why would they mess with his Father’s creations that way? He wanted so badly to go up there and tell his Father of what they had done to Lilith. He knew that they would somehow find a way to pin the blame onto him.

That is why he came up with a new plan. To meet and talk to Lilith’s supposed mate. What he didn’t know at the time was that the omega was actually his true mate.

He crept into the garden, careful not to aware the elders of his presence. What awaited him in the garden was not what he expected. A true beauty, one that took his breath away. Though he had thought Lilith to be pretty. She was nothing compared to Adam.

His soft brown hair, honeyed eyes that sparkled, and tan skin that was splattered by freckles. His Lucious curves was enough to drive him insane. The angel managed to open his mouth and introduced himself. His name was Lucifer, the angel of light and God’s most favored son.

[kathlare]

the weight of her name

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: In the midst of the lively paddock at Spa, Lando's peaceful moment with his family takes a turn when a conversation brings up memories of someone from his past.

Wordcount: 1.0 k

Warnings: just fluff

July 27th, 2023 - Spa, Belgium

The Belgium Grand Prix paddock was a hive of activity, with engineers, drivers, and staff bustling around in preparation for the weekend ahead. Inside the McLaren Team Hub, Lando Norris sat with his family at one of the small tables tucked into a quieter corner. The smell of fresh coffee filled the room as his mum, Cisca, passed around mugs and biscuits, chatting casually with her parents. His dad, Adam, was checking his phone, occasionally chiming into the conversation.

Lando leaned back in his chair, a small smile on his face as he listened to his grandparents banter about their travel to Spa. His grandmother, ever the storyteller, was animatedly recounting their journey and how they nearly missed their connecting flight. Lando’s grandpa shook his head with a chuckle, muttering something about how she always exaggerates.

Then, out of nowhere, his grandmother’s tone shifted, her eyes lighting up with recognition as she turned to Cisca.

—Oh, that reminds me!— she began, her voice laced with fondness. —You know who we saw at Silverstone? That beautiful blonde girl. What was her name again?— She paused, tapping her fingers against the table as if trying to recall.

Lando’s ears perked up immediately, his easy posture stiffening ever so slightly. He didn’t need to hear more to know exactly who she was talking about.

Cisca’s face froze, her usual composed demeanor faltering for a moment. She quickly reached out for her tea, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere. —Mum, maybe we should focus on—

—No, no, wait!— his grandmother interrupted, ignoring her daughter’s subtle attempts to shut her down. —Amelie! That’s it. Amelie Dayman. Such a sweet girl. Always so polite and kind. We ran into her right before the race started.— She turned to Lando, her eyes twinkling with nostalgia. —You remember her, don’t you, Lando?—

Lando’s jaw clenched slightly as he tried to play it cool, but the slight tinge of color rising to his cheeks betrayed him. —Yeah, I remember her,— he replied, his voice calm, though his grip on the edge of the table tightened.

—Oh, you should have seen her!— his grandmother continued, oblivious to the tension building around her. —She was absolutely lovely, as always. We went to say hello, and she looked so happy to see us. Such a natural beauty, isn’t she?—

Cisca shot her mother a warning look, her lips pressed into a thin line, but it was no use. The older woman was on a roll now, completely unaware of how her words were slicing through Lando.

—And you know what I said to her?— his grandmother added with a chuckle. —I told her how much we missed having her around. She laughed, but I could see it in her eyes. She misses you too, Lando.—

Lando let out a small, forced laugh, rubbing the back of his neck as he leaned forward in his chair. —I doubt that,— he muttered under his breath, though no one seemed to catch it except for his mum.

—Oh, nonsense!— his grandmother said, waving him off. —The way you two were back then… You were smitten with her, Lando. Absolutely smitten. And she cared for you too, you could tell. The way she looked at you... oh, it was like a scene out of one of those romantic movies. I always told your grandpa that you were in love.—

—Mum!— Cisca cut in sharply, her voice firm but not loud. She placed her hand on her mother’s arm, her expression tight. —That’s enough. Let’s not dwell on the past.—

But it was too late. The damage had been done. Lando’s mind was already racing, flooded with memories he’d tried so hard to bury.

He could see her in his mind’s eye. Amelie at Silverstone, standing near the paddock, her blonde hair shining under the sun as she laughed with his grandparents. She’d always been so good at that, at charming everyone around her effortlessly. He hadn’t even seen her that weekend, and yet, knowing she’d been there, so close and yet so far, had been enough to throw him off his game.

His grandmother sighed, finally noticing the shift in the room’s energy. —I just think it’s a shame,— she said quietly. —She was good for you, Lando. You seemed so happy when she was around.—

Lando’s dad, Adam, finally looked up from his phone, sensing the awkwardness. —Maybe it’s best we leave it there. Let the boy focus on his race.—

Lando nodded, grateful for the lifeline. —Yeah, I’ve got enough to worry about this weekend,— he said, standing up abruptly. —I think I’ll go check in with the team.—

He left the table without another word, heading out of the hub and into the chaos of the paddock. But no matter how much he tried to shake it off, his grandmother’s words followed him like a ghost.

She misses you too, Lando.

Did she? Or was it just wishful thinking? Because no matter how much time passed, no matter how many races he won or lost, the truth remained: he still missed her. And no amount of distance or distractions could change that.

[soft-persephone]

Something Real

MDNI // E // WC: 9.5k // smut, oral (w receiving), glove kink?, hand kink if you squint, John talks you through it // masterlist // rough drafts // AN: I had a time getting this one started, but as hard as it was, I also had fun and I may make it a series. Who knows?

Imani rushed down the block, flying past the few pedestrians that were up at this particular twilight of dawn. 

Raw adrenaline coursed through her veins as each leg collided with the concrete below her feet, jolting her with such force to her goal. 

She snuck a glance behind her to see him catching up with her. 

Fuck. 

He was catching up with her. She couldn’t let him get any closer. Barely a minute ago he was nowhere in sight and now he was gaining up on her.

Diggin deep within herself, Imani mustered up whatever strength she could find in her body, grunting with force, she somehow gained speed. 

You train for this, she told herself. This is what you do, its who you are, no random fucker on the street is going to take that away from you. You were going to live and you were going to win. 

Just a few more seconds and she’d be at her shop, and she could finally escape. She would win and be free.

“Aye!” from the corner of her eye, Imani saw a blur of black wool rush past her to who was behind her.

What the?

Another man was rushing towards her, but she didn’t stop. Sheh couldn’t, but he was just as fast, going step for step with her. 

He slowed down when she did, reaching out to grab her, by the shoulders. Instead of her usual sloppy slow down, she collided face first into his chest.

“It's okay now.” his velvet tone flooded her senses, “you don’t need to keep running. We got him.”

Oh God.

Imani frantically tapped at his chest with the palm of her hand when she saw his friend in the dark wool coat handcuff the man running after you.

“N-n ugh- no.” she gasped for air, half choking when she couldn’t breathe in enough, “no.”

“Alex!” Elle waved him down, quickly shifting her attention once he started to jog over, “NO!”

“What do you mean, no?” Alex huffed shortly, the condensation of his breath filling the space between them as he shoved the man to the side, so he wouldn’t be near her, but he could still hold onto him. “We arrived here, just to see this man chasing a woman who looked scared out of her mind. We can ask him questions once we get downtown.”

“A race!” Elle explained, as she turned her phone around, so he could see she was livestreaming on instagram, “she was scared of losing a footrace.”

“A footrace?” The man holding Imani scrunched his face as he held her back some to look at hers. She nodded, her chest still falling up and down.

“I wasn't doing nothing!” The man finally spoke up for himself. “It's just a thing  Citrusly does.” He huffed, shaking his head, “you beat the owner in a footrace, you get free drinks for a month. She’s only here Tuesday morning’s  5am to 6am for it.”

Imani felt like she could breathe a little better once Alex uncuffed the man.

Alex’s expression shifted to something more guarded, but not quite pleased or relieved, slightly sorry, but only slightly. He uncuffed the man and pushed him. 

“Get out of here.”

“Fucking cops.” the man muttered, brushing off his clothes.

“I’m sorry about that. Are you okay?” Imani put her hand on his shoulder, looking him over as she would have done if the situation was dangerous, which it was not, but she had a business to run, and right now there were lots of phones recording them.

“I’m fine now.” He beamed at you. His body language shifting. 

“That's good.” she squeezed his shoulder lightly, giving him a polite smile, praying it didn't give him any ideas, “because of accidental arrest or not, I still won, so you don't get the one month discount.’

“Mani!” Elle scolded her, but she ignored it. 

“Are you kidding! I totally would have had it, if that man didn't tackle me!”

“He tackled you three steps away from the shop door.” You pointed at Alex’s cop accomplice, “this man didn't grab me until I stopped running which was at the shop door.” she waved her hands up as she finished proving her point, “You lost.”

The onlookers cheered and laughed, some going back inside and others going on about their day as you attempted to console a sore loser.

“Tell you what,” Imani put her hands together in front of her, “As an apology, because of my friend’s actions, I’ll give you a drink and a pastry today for free, on me.”

The man, Donnie, she just learned his name was, nodded. He had a sweet smile that went well with his light brows eyes and freckled face, a few spots on his cheeks much whiter than the rest of him. You would have been all over him in high school, but right now, you weren’t  so sure if you were up for anything with anyone.

“I’d really like it if I could also get,--”

“No more no less.” Imani interrupted with a playful smirk and a laugh. “That’s my final offer.” she licked her lips, ignoring how his eyes followed the movement. “Take it or leave it.”

She bounced back and forth on her heels, laughing softly and averting her gaze at Elle who looked at her like a disappointed mother. She ignored the smirk on Alex’s face and the coy look on his friend’s

“Alright.” Donnie relented, even taking a step back. When did he even get so close? She wondered. How did she let that happen? “But I'm challenging you again next Tuesday!” he pointed at her, smiling.

“I’ll always be here.” Imani opened the door for him and waved him off with one more smile. 

“Damn,” a rich voice called behind her as the door was taken out of her grasp and swung open wider, “mm mm mm, that was cold blooded.”

Imani huffed through her nose, praying she didn’t jump from how he startled her. 

“Right,” Alex chuckled, pushing past her in the shop. 

“Tell me what you’ll say if the same person asks you out on the same day every week, but you keep giving the same answer each time, and they can’t take the hint.

Imani shook her head and made her way behind the counter to make everyone's usual.

“Every Tuesday?” 

“And Mani’s too stubborn to actually say yes.” Elle Huffed, “He’s nic–”

Imani took the opportunity to raise the pressure of the steam wand to cut her off, blowing  a cloud of steam in front of her. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to cut you off.”

“I’m not falling fo–”

Imani did it again. 

“Will you–”

She did it again. 

“Sorry, I was actually making a drink  that time.” 

Imani placed it  in front of her. “This one’s yours.”

“Giving her a look, Elle took her drink and left to go to the usual table. Before you could ask Alex’s friend what he wanted, he was already following her.

“Does he—“

“He will eat and drink anything you put in front of him," Alex deadpanned with a hint of a grin. “He greedy as hell.”

Imani will always love her best friend Elle, but she was doing the absolute most, and so was Alex.

She  and her friend have been close since college. Truly the sister she’s  always wanted, so when she finally got the guy she’s been obsessed with since high school, it sucked that they didn’t get to spend as much time together as they used to, but Imani was a big girl, and she knows she can handle not being first in line anymore. 

She’ll settle for two.

But right now, number two was confused on why it was so important for them to meet the best friend, that was more of a brother, to the man her best friend was dating. 

“Just to be clear, I’m not the one in a relationship with Alex, right?”

“Mani!” Elle warned through gritted teeth. 

Imani raised her hands, backing off. 

“You are my family and you’re important to me,” Elle put a hand on Imani’s shoulder, “just like John is to Alex.”

Imani wanted to fold in on herself. 

She looked up at the ceiling to avoid Elle’s gaze.

“And as your family, I’d like to know where you have been in the last week. You weren’t answering  your phone and no one had seen you anywhere. Is it because of what comes up in two days?”

“No, I’m fine.” Imani shook her head,” I just needed some time alone with my thoughts. Is it healthy, probably not, but I know what I want, and I just needed to take that time.”

“So you're okay?” Elle asked softly. 

“I was in my apartment. I just chose not to pick up any calls.”

She playfully rolled her eyes and averted her gaze from everyone for a moment. They were all looking at her now, and she didn’t even know what else to say. 

Fuck, Elle for doing this to her. 

“Okay.” Imani hoped it didn’t come off as short as it sounded to her. All she could feel was her face burning and her ears muffling everything from how hot her head was getting. She shrugged off her jacket for good measure and took a large sip of her drink. 

“John,” he held out his hand, breaking the ice first, “Sampson.” He said as you shook it. 

“Imani.” She half smirked and  waved a hand in an obvious gesture, since Elle has done nothing but call it out every five seconds. 

“You have a last name, Imani.”

“Nope.”  She said, popping the p.

“It’s Lounds.”

“Like The Lounds Enterprise Lounds?” He raised an eyebrow. 

Imani smacked her teeth and leaned back, crossing her arms. 

“Now why’d you have to go and tell him.”

“So you’re his semi-estranged daughter he doesn’t like talking about.” 

“We’re not estranged.” She huffed, “I just make my own money.”

“And how’s that working out?” he chided. 

“John, don't start with her. Once she gets started, she won’t stop.” Elle smiled as she gave her input, failing to hide her smile as she did. Not quite a master at 

“Good.” Imani beamed, grabbing a cinnamon roll and picking it apart as she ate it.

“Aye,” Alex frowned, “you're wasting a perfectly good common roll.”

“It's a habit,” Imani said with her mouth half full, “it’s a test for texture. Jimmy taught me. I've been doing it all week and now, whenever I eat a pastry, I pull it apart .

Imani talked on, going into detail about texture and doughs and mouth feel as she watched John grab a muffin. 

Interesting. 

She laid out an assortment, just like she did when she met Alex here the first time. Who had a knack for picking out which one was the sweetest just by looking at it. 

Muffins could be sweet but they weren’t sweet like other things. 

“Slow down Sugar,” John brushed his hands of crumbs, “it ain’t going nowhere.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“It’s a nickname.” Elle mused.

“Sweet tooth.” Was all Alex said, focused on getting the rest of the cinnamon roll in his mouth. 

Well that explains it. 

“Why are you dressed like a  Gangbanger from LA?” 

Imani looked down at her clothes, picking at the fabric of her Dickies jacket and pulling the oversized sleeves over her hands. 

“They were Deonte’s.” She licked her lips before smiling slowly. “He was from LA and he did live that type of life at some point, but I- I think something happened and he used the last of his money to fly out here,” her chest used to feel tight when she talked about him. It used to make her shake and take her breath away, but now. . . Not so much, “so he was uh- I think that’s why he was homeless when I met him.” She nodded, feeling like that was enough for now. 

“I’m sorry I don’t mean to—“

“No, it’s okay,” Imani smiled softly, “I like talking about him.” She said in a half whisper, thinking of her long lost friend. 

No one said anything so she felt the need to interject, or rather Alex and Elle had heard all this stuff before, but the opportunity to show someone else Deonte as she  knew him, to share who he really was with anyone who listened, she’ll never pass that up. 

“He left that behind once he got here, I helped him get on his feet. . . let him stay with me. . .save up for a new place, but there wasn’t any need for that. We got so close and the housing market was shit, so I. . .  somehow, convinced him to stay with me.” She gently cleared her throat, “for good I think.”

“That’s when he started the nonprofit with you?” John graveled, his  interjection startled her. She blinked at him for a moment, remembering she had an audience. 

“Y-yeah.” She smiled. “How’d you know that?” She leaned forward, but kept her hands in the sleeves of the too big jacket, “people don’t usually know that.”

“I make it a habit to keep up with things that benefit my community.” he took a non communal sip of his drink before tilting his head and squinting at ut with a low short hum, “ You two did good work.” he shifted his attention back to her, “  You,  do good work.” 

Imani’s shoulders fell with a tension she didn't know was there. His dark eyes reflected a glimmer of. . Joy? A sort of complement of  reverence she didn’t quite understand. 

She searched his eyes, the feeling overwhelmed her, but she let it. She couldn’t stop the way she held his gaze and searched for more, eagerly taking as much as she could get in that moment, but then she realized what it was. 

He was proud of her, of Deonte and the work they did together, and the work she kept doing after his death. 

A feeling her father long since neglected to give her. A feeling she forgot she used to devote herself to once she removed herself from her father’s influence. 

“You don’t like saying thank you either, Imani?”

She inhaled sharply, leaning back in her seat. 

“I- I uh.” 

“Most people say thank you when they get a compliment.” He said casually, but there was something in the inflictions of his voice. How the colors of his tone would sway and flow across a spectrum like a musical scale. Going from something light and casually rich and pleasant to something low and imposing. 

A skill she’s sure he’s picked up to properly reprimand and deal with the criminals he may catch, but she was no criminal and there was no danger. 

So why use it so flippantly?

Her mind felt foggy, but she knew not to ask.

“Say thank you.” He took a sip of his coffee. Imani watched him intently, confused in her sudden stupor, her eyes following the micro movements of his face, his hand, soaking in the way the leather of his gloves creaked and strained with the movement. How his tongue darted to reach  the foam of  the latte that settled on the hairs of his upper lip, catching in his beard. 

“Thank. . You.” She averted her gaze, ignoring how tightly her legs were pressed together. 

“Leave that girl alone.” Alex drawled, breaking the spell, “she’s trying to have a heartwarming vulnerable moment and you keep messing with her.”

John rolled his eyes. 

“And you need to take some notes, so you can learn to do the same instead of bottling everything up until you explode, motherfucker.” 

Imani winced and let out an “ooh.”

“You gon’ let them gang up on me like that?” He glanced at Elle in mock offense.

“He’s right though.” She took a conspicuous sip of her drink. 

“Don’t do him like that,” Imani fiddled with the hem or her sleeve, feeling normal and letting her hands out of the jacket, “everyone grieves differently.”

“Exactly,” Alex held out his hand in a fist, not putting it down until she bumped it, “unh, that’s what I’m talking about. We gotta stick together.” 

 “Stick together as what?” John smacked his teeth. 

“Dead partner club.” Alex said matter of factly. 

Imani nodded in agreement. 

“I grieve different.” She said in a partially nasally tone and pitched her voice lower. “Huh.” 

“What?” Elle looked at Imani as if she was being an embarrassment, again.

“None of y’all listen to Kendrick?” Imani shrugged back.

“Is that hat an artist of some kind? Is he one of the rappers you like to listen to?”

“Elle, do not play with me,” Imani bristled. Because they’ve been friends for how long? And she still wants to act  brand new whenever she brings up the goat.

“See, this is why Jannie thinks you’re old and I’m not.”

Alex bit back a laugh, but John let it fly, not having to worry.

Elle shook her head, not taking the bait because you were in mixed company, but if it was only the two of you, she would have definitely taken it there. 

“Anyways,” she said pointedly, “I need a favor.”

Imani laughed through her nose. 

“Shoot.”was all she said, Elle already knew she’d do anything for her. 

“I need you to accept your invitation to Jonesy’s  dinner party with me and—“

“Ugh,” Amani loudly scoffed and downed the rest of her drink and grabbed her water, not looking up at Elle, “anything but that, Please.”

“It’s just for one night.” She urged, there will be lots of amazing people and you’ll even find more donors for your organization. It’ll be amazing for networking.”

“Okay,” Imani frowned, “fine fine fine.” She kept saying until Elle stopped talking. “I don’t care. I’ll just go.”

This was more than a hopeful answer for her. Ellle softly squealed. 

“You’ll like this one. I promise.”

“Please don’t,” Imani scoffed into her drink, “I don’t want you to be known as a liar off something like that.”

“I think that’s our cue to go to work.”

As Alex bundled back up and kissed Elle goodbye. 

Imani watched as John stood and fastened his coat. 

“Are you okay?” Elle brought her out of her daze. They were long gone and out the door but she was still looking out, “You seem out of it today?”

“Y-yeah,” Imani muttered into her glass of water, “just thinking about Deonte.” 

________

Fuck. Imani cursed to herself. 

Fuck fuck fuck.

She paced back and forth on the sidewalk. 

She hoped  her eyes weren’t too red. It was a bit ago and it took her a while to get here, so maybe it’ll wear off before dinner starts. She just needed to get over it by then. 

Her usual stuff was gone and she frantically kept calling her main guy until he was able to come through, but he had everything but what she usually buys from him. 

Going against her better judgment, she settled for what he had and it was way too strong and it felt way too different, and now everyone was going to know she was high and she’ll embarrass herself, and they’ll hate her forever. Then Elle wouldn’t  want to be her friend anymore, and her Dad will find out, and he’ll cut her out of his life and from the family forever. 

“Fuck!” She shouted into the night air, searching for some reprieve. 

“Mani?” 

“Oh,” she softened some at the sight of her friend, “hey.”

“Are you alright? I brought the gummies you left at my house.”

Oh right. 

She did ask for Elle to bring it. That’s where it was. 

But it was too late. She was already on some other stuff and she had to smoke it and worry that none of it stuck to her skin. 

“No, I’ll be alright without it, but thanks.” She took it and hid it in her purse, and that’s when she saw the little baggie of pills.

Fuck, she was screwed. 

In addition to T seeing her have a mini panic attack he have her the pills free of charge, insinuating she take them. 

“They’re real anxiety pills and shit. People use ‘em just to feel good, but you may want to see a Dr to actually get them prescribed. Let me know if you need something stronger or not as strong, and I’ll hook you up. Take care of yourself.”

Imani closed her purse. 

She’ll just wait until the weed wore off and she wasn’t high to take one, she might not even need it at that point. 

“Imani, let’s get out the cold and inside already.”

Huh?

Imani blinked. 

Alex and Elle were giving her odd looks at the door. 

“Sorry, I zoned out.”

She followed them. 

She needed to pull herself together. She’ll get busted at any point if she keeps this up.

“You guys made it!” Jonesy kissed her and Elle on the cheek. Alex held out a hand for him to shake, but Jonesy pushed his hand away, going straight for the hug. 

“Oh we know each other better than that, Alex.”

“Uh, yeah.” Alex patted Jonesy on the shoulder, politely putting an appropriate amount of space between them. 

“Your coats can go in this closet here.” Jonesy pointed, “Make yourselves comfortable. You all know your way around the place.” He flashed them with a smile and a slight wave, “I’ll let everyone know when dinner is ready.”

“WOW, you look gorgeous Imani!”

“Thank you.” Imani pretended to be flattered by the backhanded compliment. 

Since Deonte’s death she’s developed a nasty habit of wearing his clothes and adopting a lot of his personal style into hers. The extravagant more feminine outfits or even her own particular  style of streetwear was seen less and she wore more dickies and carhartt than anyone in her old circle  had ever seen in their life. 

“Are you planning on returning to the court anytime soon?”

“No, I left my tennis days behind me, I fear.” She chuckled lightly and moved on, making sure not to be rude.

Five more interactions and twice as many more comments about her long silky dress that hugged her curves and how the color complimented her skin, Imani felt like she had a little more control of her senses. A sense of herself had begun to return to her.

“Come here.” A velvety low voice resounded in Imani’s head, and a hand firmly grabbed her and dragged her into a half hallway half corner. 

Was that God? Some sort of Angel punishing her for everyone to see, making her an example of his divine punishment?

“What’s wrong with you?” 

Imani gasped  half a beat after he spoke, her eyes widening as she came face to face with John. 

He grabbed her face in one hand, his thumb and forefingers  slightly digging into her cheek as he moved her face up, down, and side to side. 

“Weed.” She managed to squeak through her squished lips. 

“You sure it’s just that?” He let her go, pulling up a little baggie in front of her face. 

“H-how did you?” 

“Don’t worry about that.’ He steeled. “Answer my question.”

Imani blinked, piecing together her thoughts to remember what the question was again. 

“I’m fi—“

“— no you’re not. Your friend asks you to come somewhere as a favor and you decide that’s the perfect time to get high.”

“That’s not it.” Imani hissed. “Let me answer.”

He held her gaze, but shut up. 

Good. 

“I smoke to take the edge off of being here, not to be out of it completely. Although sometimes, you do need to get that high.” She ignored the disapproval on his face and continued, “I left my usual stuff at Elle’s, so I made a quick irrational decision to take something  else, even though I knew it wasn’t going to go well because I refuse to be  here sober.”

“Doesn’t explain these pills.”

“They're back up—“

“They’re a crime.” Imani flinched at the bite in his voice. “I could arrest you just for having these. You already admitted they were yours.” 

“I just—“

“John, you made it!” Elle’s warm soft voice filtered out between them. 

“This is why we don’t bring you nowhere. Can’t show up anywhere on time. Don’t take your coat off and shit.” Alex shook his head, saying the last part lowly so no one around them could hear. 

John didn’t spare them any pleasantries and Imani must have looked as panicked as she felt, so much for being discreet. 

“What’s going on here?” Alex's expression fell, his brows drawing close and his mouth falling shut into a firm line to match John’s.

John silently flashed the bag of pills before stuffing them back in his pocket. 

“Your friend is high, out of her mind.”

“Is that why you said you didn’t need the gummies?” Elle turned to look her in the eye, but Imani turned, not wanting her to see the look on her face. But Elle stepped closer, gently grabbing her shoulders. 

Imani kept her gaze cast to the side. 

“Mani,” Elle whispered, “what did you do?”

“I called Tony and he didn't have what I wanted, so I had to take what he had and then he recommended these pills  he said  they was for anxiety or something like that because apparently he thinks I have it or that something’s wrong with me  and offered to be my unofficially psychiatrist or some  shit but then advised I see a real one if I took these and felt like they helped but I wasn’t going to take them unless the weed didn’t work which it isn’t so once it wears off I’m taking them but I can’t now because he took them so I—“

“Mani, breathe.” She sighed. 

 Imani hated that sound, and she  hated the look on her friends’ face even more. . 

“I’m sorry.” It spilled out of her mouth. “I just wanted to feel comfortable in my skin. I didn’t want to be here.  I just want. . . I hate how they look at me.”

“It’s okay, Imani.” With a tissue, she didn’t see her pull out her purse, Elle dabbed at the tears she wasn’t aware of, “let’s just get through tonight.”

“I’m sorry.” Imani urged, desperate to show her sincerity. . Her mind not letting her come up with anything more thought out, everything she was feeling felt messier and harder to describe. 

“I know, I know.”  Elle cupped both sides of Imani’s face and brought her forehead to hers. 

“Let’s talk tomorrow okay.” She gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and Imani gave her one back on hers. “No excuses, Elle added.” A smile pulling at the corners of her lips. 

“If I have to hurt Jimmy to make time for you to be with me this week , don’t get mad at me for it.” Imani smiled back. 

“And I won’t.”

Imani nodded, for some reason feeling better.

John didn’t look like he approved any more or less, and Alex’s face seemed unreadable to her. 

“Can I have my drugs back?”

“No.” John said seriously without missing a beat.

Imani rushed to him and pulled at the front of his shirt. 

“You can keep the pills. I just need the other stuff that’s in there.”

If she remembered correctly, there might have been some shrooms and a bit of weed left.

He pried her hands off his chest.  

“Are you seriously asking a cop if you can have your illegal substances back?”

“No, I'm asking a cop if I can have the  legal substances back that happen to be in the bag with the illegal ones.”

“You mean you’re illegal ones.”

“Please.” She stepped into his personal space and rested  her chin on his chest, craning her neck up as she did so she could look him in the eye.”Please can I just have the mushrooms back?”

“Oh just the mushrooms?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Yes!” Imani leaned back from him. Happily grabbing at his arms as they rested at his sides. 

“Well I’m that case,” He started to move  his hand  and Imani immediately stepped back to accommodate him,” no.” He shrugged his coat off his shoulders and straightened his blazer on his body. 

“John, don't antagonize her.” Elle lightly chided.

Alex nodded in agreement. A hint of amusement in his eyes. “Elle’s right, don’t antagonize her John.”

Imani slumped forward, letting her cheek rest on his chest as she pouted.

“What are you doing?” John said, too exasperated to even let out a sigh, ignoring both  Alex and Elle.

 His display of emotion was a delightful anomaly to Imani. How could he look so upset but nonchalant at the same time? 

“I’m not moving until you give them back.” She huffed through her nose.

“Then I guess we better get comfortable.” He murmured in a low peeved voice, flooding her senses with its bass and depth. She could listen to him speak forever. 

“Mani, no.” Elle hissed. “Get off him.”

“He has my drug—“

Alex lowered himself so he was at her level and could get in her face. “Get. Up.” He said through gritted teeth, his tone sending a chill down her spine.  

Imani  rose to stand straight, but she was not happy about it. 

He didn’t  leave her any room. She tried to step past him, but he took one forceful step forward, backing her into John’s chest. 

“Act like you have some sense.” He pointed in her  face. 

“No one told you to do these drugs and no one told you to bring them here. Be grateful John, or me, isn't  arresting you in front of your friends and dragging  you out that door.”

“I—“

He  wordlessly gave her a look, daring her to speak and interrupt him.

Imani shut her mouth.

“If you’ll do what I say, then you’ll do what he says, do you understand me?”

Imani nodded silently, not wishing to provoke him further. 

He patted her cheek and then backed up to take his place by Elle’s side. 

“You aren’t my fucking Dad.” She muttered under her breath. 

“What was that?”

“I said you aren’t my—“ 

“Dinner is ready!” Jonesy popped around the corner with a smile. 

On instinct, Imani plastered a smile on her face and shifted her body language to something casual that suggested polite conversation. 

“Thank you, we’ll be right there.” She slightly bowed her head. 

“Oh,” Jonesy paused, his brows raising, “when did you and John get so close?”

Imani was no longer resting onto his chest, but she hadn’t removed herself from his personal space. While she would no longer lay on him as he stood, she settled for resting her hands on his lower half, close to his pockets. 

She’s been attempting to ease them in his pocket and take her drugs out, but he either smacks her hand away or grabs it before squeezing very tightly until tears pricked her eyes, so she just kept them there in case there was a small window he wouldn’t notice her hand slipping into his pocket again. 

“We haven’t.” Was all Imani said, her smile unwavering. 

Adding to her amusement, John stayed silent behind her. 

She watched out the corner of her eye, as he discretely moved the bag from his pants pocket to the one  inside his jacket. 

Fuck. 

There goes plan A.

“Everyone to their seats.” Jonesy declared loudly, his voice filling the room before scurrying off with a terribly concealed grin. 

Imani was very familiar with dinner parties at Jonesy’s house. He was a stickler for order and had a flair for presentation, decoration, and all things that went into being a great hostess.

One of those things he never budged on and will always obsess over to every minute detail, is the seating arrangement. 

Childish as hell to some, and by some, mostly her, the seats were often set by a system only he understood, something about the structure to set up the perfect flow of conversation, so they never lulled and no one was ever bored. 

Imani had the same seat around the same people each night, but not this time. 

She was by John, Imani and Alex at a completely different spot by the head of the table. 

The fuck?

They were practically at the end. 

When Imani brought Elle, they were placed closer to the head but not there directly. Imani would be on the left and Elle would be on her right. 

She peered down the table to glance at Alex and Elle once more. 

He was on her right. 

Imani’s brain struggled to put the pieces together.

“Imani,” a blond woman who had a clearly younger and equally  blonde man stuck to her side. He fawned over her every movement, but the hollow glint in his eyes was off putting.

 A forced  display of desire? Or was he really that bad at hiding how much he hated the woman who was undoubtedly paying him to be here? “I heard you were investing in restaurants? What a cute adventure.”

“Not investing,” Imani took a careful sniff of her green beans before taking a bite, the accent of almonds in some type of balsamic glaze? Went really well together, a perfect way of combining flavor and texture, but the green beans were undercooked, making the dish crunch unpleasantly in her mouth, “I own a cafe and I’m slowly making my debut into the fine dining community here in DC. There’s this chef– Jimmy Raines, who reached out after visiting my cafe and trying one of my pastries. He—“

“So it’s true?” She smiled thinly, smirking, “you’re actually making food in these places? You aren’t just investing?”

“Well I, for one,  think it’s wonderful,” a brown skinned gentleman next to her interrupted, “Imani is truly exemplifying how she's the best of us each and everyday, and if she figured out a way to get income from her hobbies, then I say brava.” 

Imani gave Sharvesh a quick smile of thanks, but turned her attention back towards her plate. 

There was the option of Chicken or Pork Chop, and she went for both. 

The chicken was perfect, but the porkchop was dry, even more so  disappointing, they both were seasoned the same. The flavours were not too compelling, not even in a garlic powder onion powder way of simple and good, Only salt and pepper, but they weren’t that high quality in cuts that warranted such a simple flavor palette. 

They at least could have been basted or crusted in some type of herbs. 

The only good thing had to be the potatoes.

Fondant, to be exact. 

She made a mental note to ask Jimmy to teach her how to make them. 

“May you pass the potatoes down, please?” She had to have more, her stomach felt like it opened a portal and transformed into a bottomless pit that would never get full. 

Before she could put her fork down and take the platter, John had already reached for it, his arm more than long enough to reach over for it before she could. 

Wordlessly, he puts some on her plate for her before adding some more to his owne, 

Imani thanks him softly, and digs in, not wasting any time. 

“Can I have them back now?” Imani leaned towards him to whisper in his ear. 

“If you behave.” Was all he said in between bites of his food. 

Sighing, she takes another bite of her chicken. 

Sharvesh directs his attention towards her, ready to say or ask something else, as he takes the platter back, but John interrupts him. 

“You mind passing the chicken down here too?”

“Of course.” His shoulders drop some, but he complies, recovering with a quick smile. 

They were going dish per dish, plate for plate. If he wanted something, she also wanted that something and vice versa.

Dessert was atrocious and she couldn’t fight the indignant sound that came out of her mouth. 

It was some type of… peach cobbler inspired thing. . . Shaped cylinder made up of layers. The peaches were clearly canned, insipid, and flavorless, overwhelmingly covered in fructose. The layer of crust was dry and it fell apart in the mouth in the worst possible way. The only good thing  about it was the scoop of ice cream on the side. A terrible choice for the presentation, but at least something about it was edible. 

“Can I have your ice cream?” Imani said a little too loudly. The disgust in her voice is clear and easy to pick out  in her semi inebriated state. 

Imani was seconds away from loudly complaining, before John pinched her side faster than she could speak. 

John leaned towards her, and dropped his voice. “This is not behaving.” he hushly growled in her ear with more bite than she could physically comprehend. He wouldn't dare openly glare at her, but the threat in his voice made up for what his face could not.

She swallowed, ignoring the chill that ran down her side and the knot of warmth that quickly raced through her lower belly. 

Imani flinched away from him. Unable to fight the fear that he might do. . . Something. 

The look on his face and tone of his voice made her think of a look she remembered a mother giving her child in public one time. 

Apparently, she is acting out. 

“How was dinner? It was nice wasn’t it?” Elle questioned as they stood around once more for cocktails. 

“Don't ask a question and not give someone a chance to answer.” Imani scolded into her cup without looking up. “And then don't give your answer first.” 

“Well someone’s clearly sober.” Ellle half singed in a soft voice. “How do you feel?”

Imnai frowned, pondering.

“Upset. . . but not like, disappointed.” She licked her lips. It would be mean to say it out loud , but she couldn't fight the nagging voice in the back of her head. The thought of saying it, seeing her say it, and all the possible reactions of the words once she said them, were starting to become its own beast. The thought of not saying it at all begins to eat away at her and she now has to say it.

“Upset. . .dinner was, well it wasn’t terrible but it could have been better.”

“You and John practically ate half of everything?” Alex’s brows drew together.

“That was mostly potatoes and the. . “ She turned towards John who was scarfing down one of the “dessert cocktails, “what was the vegan dish?”

“Red pepper chickpea souffle’.”

“Hot hummus.” Imani nodded matter of factly.

“Definitely sober.” Elle said with a shake of her head and a smile.

“I’m sorry,” Alex interrupted, looking concerned, “are we just okay with Imani being rude as hell for no reason.”

Imani’s face felt like a child’s would if they’re parents told them no after they asked for ice cream. Her cheeks puffing in another pout.

“It's not on purpose.”

“She was raised to be emotionally unavailable and is learning to express herself emotionally.”

“Elle!” Imani said shortly in warning.

“She left her feelings wheel at home.”

Imani opened her mouth to defend herself, but quickly closed it in realization.

Elle was doing this on purpose. Why? 

“Ain't nothing wrong with trying to better yourself.” John interrupted out of nowhere. “The right way is always better than self medication.” he tossed his drink on the nearest tray as it went by. “But what do I know? It's not like I got a degree in psychology or anything  fancy like that.

“Nigga, done read two books sand thinks he knows something.”

Imani laughed, rolling her eyes.

They said their goodbyes and grabbed their coats, shuffling back out into the chill of the night air.

“Mani!” Elle called out.

She turned, the wind whipped at her face. The snowflakes falling into her lashes slightly obscured her vision,“Yeah?!” She called back.

“John’s taking you home.”

And he did.

“There are more things than drugs that can take the edge off” he was so close, his words rumbled against Imani’s face, pulling at something within her  and making her pussy throb. 

Her tongue felt thick as she licked her lips. 

“Like what?”

Like what included Imani’s bare  back to his still dressed chest, watching his leather clad fingers rub torturously slow firm  strokes against her clit. 

“Please. . . “ she whimpered, throwing her head back into his chest, her smooth bare  legs shamelessly spreading wider, straining against his pant legs. 

She attempted to grab his offending hand with hers to do something, anything, but he stopped her, restraining  her hands against her chest in a tight grip.

“I’m so close.” She tried again with a sniffle. His deft fingers found a way to circle the sensitive nub of her clit even slower, before sliding off down her lips and into the wet center of her pussy. He curled his fingers in an equally slow pace, fueling her desire and bringing her back to the edge. Driving her insane, but nowhere near what she wanted. 

“Look at you,” he trailed firm sloppy kisses down her neck before coming back up. Imani Relished the feeling of his lips. Craning her head back into his chest so he could trail them along her jaw. 

He pulled his fingers out of her pussy to hold her chin back, her arousal pooling between them on the bed and what was left of it on his fingers trickled down her face as his lips locked onto hers in a backwards upside down kiss. 

She keened into his mouth as he wantonly pushed his tongue past her lips to slide his tongue against hers. 

“I wonder what sound you’ll make after you taste yourself on my tongue.” He added another finger and started sliding them in and out of her at a faster pace. 

“Oh,” she softly let out. 

He brought his other hand to her clit, letting go of his cruel grip on her hands. 

She immediately brought them to his arms, squeezing tightly at his sleeves, but she wouldn’t dare stop him, not while she felt so good. 

His finger glided across her clit at a steady cruel pace. With each stroke of leather against her puffy nub she gushed around his other fingers that slid in and out  of her pussy. His thick long fingers were filling her up. 

“Look at you,” his voice was hot  and low as it brushed against her ear,  “all that talk, but you do just what I want you to.”

“Please,” she strains, somehow straining her legs wider. He responds by curling his finger into her, digging her out and hitting a spot she didn’t know was there. Her hips chased the movent, and he didn’t stop her, letting her fuck herself onto his hands.

“And you ask so sweetly” his rich dulcet tone was a song in her ear she didn’t want to end. She’d let it get stuck in her head forever. 

“You wanna cum for me?” He added another finger not waiting for her to respond. 

Imani mewled, blinking away a stream of tears as they stung her eyes. 

His words pulled at something within her. The desire had her body ablaze, but his request was adding a foreign feeling into the mix. Tinging her desire with another burning emotion that electrified her nerves and filled her with something akin to bashfulness or fear, but it was a fear colored with an excitement for more that she would never admit, unless  he made her, and something told her he could. 

He pushed down on her clit. 

She cried out against the movement, her hips jolting foward in shock, but pressing against his hands just as much, increasing the impending pressure, causing her to leak onto the hand that was sliding in and out of her. 

“Cum for me.” 

And she did. 

Her legs jolted and tensed, as she spilled into his gloved hand. 

Before she could let out any moan, he snaked his head around her to swallow any and every sound in a kiss, his beard danced against her cheeks as he did. The slide of his tongue on her matched the movements of his hand buried in her pussy as he buried them inside her, coaxing  her through her orgasm.. 

Once over, he eased from behind her. 

Imani layed back onto her sheets with parted lips. Watching with hooded eyes as John stood over her. 

She swallows the lump in her throat as she watches him enveloped his own gloved fingers  past his lips, lapping as much of you as he could off them. 

When he slid his hand out his mouth, something in his face changed, making her body flush with even more heat. The thin sheen of sweat  on her body started to burn, unable to catch up with her ever flowing desire and the man who caused it. 

He tugged roughly  at  his gloves and threw  them on her nightstand. 

Her hips dipped in the bed as she watched him unbutton his shirt, revealing the expense of flushed dark brown skin overflowing with a warm undertow of gold. 

She pant for  more, her tongue threatening to lathe out her mouth at the sight.

She needed her mouth on his skin. 

The smirk he gave her as he shoved himself out of his pants sent a jolt through her body. 

“Keep those legs open. I want to taste you.”

And taste her he did. 

Imani shoved at his head as much as she could, pushing with all her might, but he ignored her and latched his mouth on her more firmly, sucking hard at her clit. 

His bare hands felt even better, but she couldn’t take it. 

Her lips were sore and puffy and her clit was aching. 

Each push and pull of his finger inside of her brought another tear to her eye, and his mouth on her clit only made her keen and whine at the pain, but her pussy had other thoughts. 

What she registered as pain and too much, her body only felt an override of pleasure. 

Her legs strained open, pathetically begging for more and giving him easy access. She gushed and flooded his tongue with each cry, whine, and whimper. 

“Please, please, please. . .” Was all her brain would let her say through her cries of ecstasy and tears. 

“I’m giving you all I got baby,” he added a third finger, his voice against her puffy pussy making her squeeze each and every one of them, unbearably filling her up more than her mind could comprehend, “what more do you want.” 

He switcher from sucking on her clit to lathing it with his tongue. Swiping with slow firm movements. Her hips follows each one. With his tongue hitting her clit just right, his fingers stuffed snuggly inside her, and his beard scratching oh so pleasantly at her sensitive overstimulated skin, she came again without warning, 

He hummed against her, making the feeling that much more euphoric and that much more unbearable. 

He pulled his fingers out of her. As they slid out, they were followed by a hot sticky stream of her arousal. 

“You’re so creamy.” He kissed her inner thigh, smearing the mess she was making further along her body, 

He pushed his tongue in her, his beard scratching overwhelmingly at her pussy. Wet, sloppy sounds and matching slurps filled the room as he continued to eat her out. 

Imani clutched the back of his head, pulling at his hair. She’d had enough. She couldn’t take anymore and she needed to put a stop to him now or else he’d kill her. . She’d be surprised  if her knuckles weren’t raw and split in the morning from how hard she was pulling, but it only encouraged him, 

He moaned into her, making her whimper and lose her grip,

“Please. . “

She didn’t realize it until he was looking at her through her legs that she had came again. 

He looked half crazed. A hunger so deep and intense, she had to avert her gaze, but her eyes were  back on him once he made his ascent towards her. Without looking away, he crawled over her body. 

“Come here.” He said like velvet, leaning down, he trapped her in a hard kiss. Haunting her senses and  pushing against her further, swiping against her mouth more intently than he had the entire night. 

“Mmh,” she whimpered in between kisses. They were soft and keening. 

When she had made one particularly drawn out mewl his hips pushed against hers, causing his dick to smear precum against her lower belly. 

 “Mmmmm.” He broke the kiss in satisfaction. “Keep that up.”

He moved her to her side, putting one  of her legs around his waist as he settled behind her on his side. 

“You ready?” He smirked against her ear, kissing her right below it. His breath was hot. 

She shook her head into the sheets, straining her eyes shut in worry. 

If he wasn’t holding her, she’d collapse into the bed, and her pussy was worn out and tired. 

“Oh, you can take it. Don’t be like that.” The gentleness of his voice was in contradiction with the cruel way he rubbed his dick through her folds. Holding one hand at the base, he meticulously and cruelly swayed it from side to side before smacking it against her pussy and then repeating the action. 

“Mhm,”  she  whined in protest, “stop.”

“See, “ he ignored her, "you can,” he pushed inside of her without warning, “take it.”

Imani couldn’t remember the last time she felt so full. She couldn’t  remember the last time she wanted someone to fill her up. He was opening up a desire she forgot she had. 

He started with slow languid thrusts. 

“Damn, baby.” He moaned in her ear. “Damn—“

She clenched around him, making him swear. 

He thrust into her harder and she keened, her walks opening back around him.

“Just like that, keep taking it,” he graveled in her ear, “you take me so well.”

Imani mewled, squeezing tight against him once more. 

His hips snapped harder, pushing through how tight her pussy was holding onto him. 

“Fuck. . .” She moaned softly. 

His hot chuckle danced on her skin as she swore for the first time tonight. 

“You like that baby.” 

She let out a drawn out moan.

“You like when I tell you how good you're doing? Like when I tell you how good you take this big fat dick? That you let me fill you up like this? Dig you out?”

He licked his lips before kissing along her neck. 

His beard rubbed deliciously against her skin, the satisfying scratch heightening her senses. 

She let out a long string of incoherent noises, unable to talk back. 

He smirked into her  neck as he pushed her onto her belly, snapping his hips into hers at a grueling pace, her walks desperate to keep as much of him inside as they could. 

Without wanting, she snaked her hand around to grab his head and pull him closer.

“John.” She moaned.

His duck jumped inside her. 

“John.” She called out again. Her voice was soft and strained with need. 

A need for him. 

John had plenty of women who wanted him, who threw themselves at him, and sometimes it was women he may have wanted just as much, but he can’t call how many of them needed him. Not like this. Not this much. 

That wasn’t his style. That’s not who he was. That’s not how he got the name Two-John.

But tonight, he’d let himself be needed. 

But only for a moment.��

Mustering up the last of his strength, he thrusts into her harder, faster. 

She went limp under him. Her hand slipped out of his  hair and beside her head. Not taking any chances, he grabs her hands and refrains them above her head. Her pussy throbs around him and he makes a mental note of that. 

She whimpers, keens, and mewls, and shuts up.

Freeing him of thoughts of being needed. 

“You like it rough too?” He slowed down, thrusting as hard as he could with each stroke, letting her feel every inch from tip to base.

“Cum on this dick baby. Cum for me.” 

He enveloped her neck with his teeth, biting hard. She moaned  into his mouth and he moaned as he felt it vibrate in his lips. 

By some unforeseen power, she did. Imani came just when he told her too. 

She squirmed in his mouth. But as his hips slowly moved her through her orgasm as he also came down from his, she attempted to move her neck but he wrapped his hand around her throat as he bit her again,  squeezing firmly. His other hand grabbed at her hands, leaving her at his mercy. 

He let go of her neck, lapping at the intentions of his teeth before moving to her collar.

As her pussy painfully throbbed, snd the sting on her neck followed suit, an odd sensation like she was being punished washed over her as she settled down.

“John.” She called out again.

It seemed to pull him out of his trance. 

However, he didn’t move his mouth off of her without one final clench of his teeth. She whined, shuffling against his grip and the feeling of his dick softening and the condom inside her.

He peeled himself off her.

Imani felt an odd sense of Deja vu as she watched him with hooded eyes as he moved above her once more that night. 

His chest rising and falling heavily under a thick sheen of sweat. 

She had had one to match, her skin sticky as well, but she was so exhausted her lungs failed to rise and fall in her exertion. She only pant silently into the air. 

John was going to tell her he should go. 

Grab his clothes and make an exit.

But he couldn’t stare himself from her gaze. Those big brown eyes and puffy round cheeks, tugs at something within him he thought he buried  long ago, but if it did occasionally  come out it’s grave, he knew how to fight it back down into the pit where it belonged, but it wasn’t until now, after he came, did he realize he fucked up. 

“You got a bathroom?” He needs to focus on something. Focus on a task until he could find a way to leave you. 

“Other side.”

Her artsy open plan loft was off putting. 

There were no hallway walls. Every room bled into the other except for  the one extra room downstairs and the bathroom. 

He’s confident the single room above that looked over every  size of the loft, that also had no surrounding walls, was your bed. 

He grunted once he finally found the bathroom and the lined closet. Running warm water over it he made his way back. 

There were plants galore, art and other knick knacks  littered everywhere in an organized mess. An island? Oversized bar cart? Whatever it wasproudly displays an espresso machine and equipment and tools he didn't understand. 

If it’s a bar cart, it’s a waste to not have  a proper alcohol display, but to each their own. 

“If that’s your room upstairs than this is—“

“Yeah it’s Deonte’s room.” She interrupted him, fidgeting as he cleaned her up. He tried to look into her eyes and gauge where her head was at, but she kept averting her gaze. 

“Can we not talk about it?” The softness of her plea startled him. 

Reminiscent of a tone he’s heard Elle use ever so often with Alex, but not as headstrong or demanding. It was insecure, panicked, and vulnerable. 

He nodded, wordlessly climbing into bed. 

He froze as she instantly moved against him, cuddling into his side and wrapping an arm around his waist as he laid on his back. She snuggled up against him as if she belonged there, and for half a second, it felt that way. 

Unable to find an excuse, he stayed.

But as she  drifts to sleep, he keeps thinking what exactly he got himself into. 

Fucking a woman in her dead exes bed, a woman who hadn’t had sex with anyone since his death three to four years ago, sharing a moment he knew was just sex, but what did she think it was? 

But he remembers her other suitors.

 The way Elle complains when she blows off or intentionally ruins the dates she sets Imani up with.

How Elle makes side comments whenever she brushes off a guy who hits on her and asks for her number, and he settles, drifting into a sleep as deep as hers because if anyone wanted a relationship less than he did, it would be Imani Louds. 

He was sure of it. 

.

.

.

.

taglist: @megamindsecretlair @nerdieforpedro @blackpinup22 @kindofaintrovert @notapradagurl7 @unknownpinner @jedinightsister @m1sk1n3

@kemkem101 @savvysav1 @professionalm1sandrist

@bbyxgall @blackpinup22 @sweettea-and-honeybutter

@brattyfics @blowmymbackout @cherrypoppers1

if you notice any errors, please let me know. My brain hurts and i have no beta readers.

[simplyghosting]

You ever meet someone and think, “Oh, I’m talking to a real life villain.”

[captainsjack]

who wants a really depressing au where tenjack are dating and during elevens era jack gets taken by the weeping angels. the doctor spends two thousand years trying to find him only to accept that he can’t. and so she goes to the one place she knows she can see him again. she goes to the face of boe.

[screampied]

☆ cw. fem! reader, college au, first lesson, dumbification, praise, he's so nerdy, squırting, unprotected, mdni.

nerd! nanami who ends up teaching you a few ‘fundamentals’ of squirting after you end up gushing out by accident.

“oh, my,” he’d huskily croon, taking a short glance at your body that’s laid flat on his timber desk. mousy eyes zero up ‘n down your entire frame before he groans, feeling your legs snake around his slim torso. after another hourly long session of cramming your brain with pounds of boring information, you’d probably forget by the next day, you told nanami that you wanted to try out ‘penetration.’ and now, that came with you gushing straight out with his meaty shaft buried snugly deep inside of you. he grows quiet, smacking his lips as he feels your slobbering cunt dripping wetly like a running never-ending faucet. it’s almost adorable with the way your face scrunches up and you’re clawing at the buckle of his drooping belt with shaky hands. “we haven’t gone over that area yet, sweetheart,” and you’re moaning, feeling your back tickle against the scattered piles of marked papers that laid directly underneath you. “ah, ah. don’t close ‘em,” he purrs, staring as your stick-glossed quavery legs try to snap themselves shut. “let me examine the wet problem a bit closer.”

“w- was that supposed to happen?” you breathe through rushed pants, frantically chewing on your bottom lip as you watch him pull out. he’s slow, feeling your slight muscles tense and spasm as you drenched the entirety of his stilled dick with molasses of your webby slick. “f- fuck,” you whimper, and nanami’s pressing a pointed thumb down against the pearly top part of your tender clit. gradually, he’s swirling a plethora of exaggerated shapes alllll around your tender entrance, lowering his head once his turgid cock’s fully out of you.

with a placid hum, nanami nods. “don’t fret, sweet thing. it’s normal,” and you prepare a deep, heavy breath as you try to peek down, watching nanami re-adjust his clear-framed glasses. “but, do you think you can do that again? i’m . . having a bit of trouble with my vision,” and he softly presses a chaste kiss against your cunt. shortly after, a slimy dewy web of stringy juices merrily glues against his lips. “i believe if my hypothesis is correct . . if ‘m closer like thiiiis,” and you moan, feeling the cold lenses of his glasses press right up against your puffed folds. “you’ll help me solve just how much of a wet girl you can get for me this time.”

openly, nanami eyes at your sopping pussy that’s just pouring from all areas with so many dewdrops of slick. a shimmery stream of your syrupy arousal cascades down the slot of your entrance and oh- it’s so pretty. at least to him.

if you squinted enough, you could see the obscene mirroring reflection of the shiny glossed view that rests between your legs from the clear lenses of his glasses. “clitoral glands,” he starts to ramble, rubbing a thumb near the top bulb-shaped part of your twitching heat. “clitoral body,” and you moan, feeling him swerve his digit down lower. “but let’s skip to . . . her,” nanami coos huskily, and you gasp once his round thumb plugs itself inside you after just a few loose inches. you swallowed that single digit right up oh-so blissfully.

like a hidden trick of a magician—his finger disappears inside of your cunt, and it presses against a particular small texture right above your lower opening. “. . that pretty urethra of yours.”

there - that’s where you felt the exact pressure of yourself gushing out, creaming down his cock with such a vivid risqué spray.

you’re still getting over it as your jaw dangles open—mouth cutely wholly ajar and all. as nanami continues to toy with your slobbering clit, he silently grumbles whatever extra clitoris facts underneath his breath. a single finger that was tucked inside of your gummy orifice gradually transitions into two, and you let off the sweetest moan that rang against his ears.

“such a pretty pussy from an even prettier girl,” and his words smokily deepen as he loudly ‘pops!’ both fingers out of your drenched slit. it’s all puffy now, drooling from each slippery flap. nanami sits up before re-aligning his milky-covered tip against your sobbing cunt.. “mini pop quiz,” he grumbles, letting off a deep sigh once his flushed crownhead languidly slides its way between the split of your folds. you’re laid back against the desk with a pout twisting across both sides of your lips.

pop… quiz?

nanami adjusts his crooked glasses by shoving them slightly back with a middle finger before humming. “riddle me this,” and a sweet moan drags its way past your throat once he’s smearing his bulbous tip across your sticky entrance.

left-to-right and it’s hypnotic. “what is the majorly important gland of the clit that helps lubricate the vagina properly?” and nanami presses a large hand on your tummy, simpering at the cute silence for an answer. with a snicker, he tilts his head at your quirked brow. “oh- c’mon. this is easy, we talked about this two days ago.”

“t . . the um-” you stammer, the throbbing of your clit increasing with each delicious second that passed. with your mind joggling its empty memory, you inhale a moan that was desperately trying to escape from your spit-stained lips. “the clitoral glands?”

“close, but no, dumb girl,” and with a smack, nanami whacks his swollen tip against the front of your weeping pussy. you finally release that moan you were holding onto with heave after heave puffing out your chest. “try again. this time, actually use that brain for me, yeah?”

you pout, and after about four seconds you left off a whiny grump. “is it . . the skene’s glands?”

“good girl,” and you let off a needy mewl once he rubs a palm against your pussy. his personal way of praising you without words, even after calling you a ‘good girl.’

it’s a soft, enticing rub that smears the entirety of your slick around his entire palm, coating it right away.

you’re so wet - pathetically drenched that you stick your candied juices all over the prints of his hand.

“it’s very important that you know about the skene’s glands. just like how important it is for me to teach you how soaked you are,” and you don’t even realize it, but the second he spanks against your cunt once more with his palm, you’re squirting . . again.

it’s a thick shiny geyser that ends up spurting out of you with a loud pssssh! and your toes curled in ecstatic rapture. you’re whining at how sudden and abrupt it was, and nanami just shakes his head with a wry smile. a hand maneuvers in a circular rotation against your pussy as you finish your three-second monumental high. “f- fuuuck, fuck!” you whimper out the same colorful syllables through your lips as your eyelids droop.

as you’re panting, still feeling the scattered bundles of paper rub and prick against the back of your skin, you eye nanami through murky peripherals. pretty ‘n glossed-eyed, you let off a shaky puff before moaning. “did . . did i pass?”

“not quite,” nanami takes his glasses off. they were still a bit soaked from earlier, a bit of your own droplets of literal juices fogging the lenses before he gave it a sweet lick. filthy. nanami squints at your twitching body before slithering a fat thumb down your tender, convulsing pussy for the nth and last time. “think we still have more basics to go over,” and he positions his head right back down between the eagle-spread valley of your legs, whistling riiiight between your driveling, puffy slit.

“besides,” and you whine once he gives your cunt its final, sloppy spank. “my only criticism— is that, we could work on that squirt velocity a little bit more,” and he pats your cunt before staring straight at your pulsating entrance, hungrily licking his lips.

“i wouldn’t mind training her, heh.”

[thedimenotmensioned]

when you realize that everyone who tried to gaslight you into thinking there’s something wrong with you for being against rapey predatory creepy perverted rapist actually WAS INDEED WRONG and you were RIGHT all along.

I’ve stayed the night and dealt with men (multiple occasions) who didn’t make me feel uncomfortable, nor scared, who didn’t force themselves on top of me after being told no and pushed away at the very least 6 fuckin times, who didn’t think that because it’s “night time” that I should already know wassup and expect to be raped, or because we’re opposite sex and hanging out alone that this is what we must do and it’s expected and demanded, or because we’re lying down/sleeping in the same bed, or because I fuckin SAT NEXT TO THEM, or because they got my attention now it’s required and expected that I give them my pussy too, or bc we’re simply hanging out.

This is all the shit rapist ass niggas, chaos officers👮🏻 and pickmes told me when trying to convince me I’m the one in the wrong, I’m a liar and these males did absolutely nothing wrong because I should’ve knew thats what were they were trying to do to me and their intent and, I must’ve been around them simply because I wanted to be raped and now I must be upset because “they don’t want me”.

NOW LISTEN

I have cuddled naked with, slept in underwear, showered with, made out with, humped, humped damn near naked with, got my titties sucked, neck sucked, gave hand jobs, and slept in the same bed as niggas who I told “NO”, FROM THE JUMP that never EVER raped me, nor made me feel as if they were about to. And to this day have never had sex with me. Even when i would get anxious and id tell them we should STOP this because I don’t want you to get the wrong impression and try to stick it in or take my panties off next. And THEY WERE THE ONES WHO would tell me to chill, and that they’re chilling/relaxed and they’re aren’t going to do that, and that they aren’t going to try to stick it in, they aren’t going to fuck me because they know I said no. They never ever scared me, held me hostage, balled up their fist angrily asking why can’t they fuck, they didn’t jack me up by shirt demanding my pussy, they DIDNT mark me up and fight me for it, they didn’t wait until I was unconscious to restrain me and make sure I can’t scream. They didn’t wait until my guard was off when I wasn’t looking and slam me down. They didn’t do any of that. So I thought interactions like that with males were pretty normal tbh and that most men were like that because all the men I had been around at the time were like that. that’s all I knew at that time……..

Meanwhile a RAPEAPE whom I’m NOT even flirting with, not cuddling with, nor doing anything sexual or intimate with whatsoever, not courting, not dating, not even sitting close to (intentionally), not allowing them to grope me, nor kiss me, nor rub me, absolutely NOTHING feels entitled and comfortable enough to pin themselves onto me and make sure I can’t scream, or full fledged attack and slam me down. And think I’m NOT supposed to be angry and upset about the shit. Let alone to think I’m NOT supposed to say something or feel a ways about the shit. Especially as someone who never had sex before at the time. And they think that I should’ve expected it, wanted it and knew it was gonna happen because we’re the opposite sex and alone or because the time of day it was or because they got my attention/number at the moment.

and since then Ive met only rape ape after rape ape. another. Then another. Then another. and the cycle just continued on. And I had to learn the hard way many men (majority) are absolutely nothing like the very few ones i met and are used to. But apparently I should’ve magically knew that already and expected to raped by majority of males i meet simply because they’re males with a Y chromosome (as told from rapist and police in different words tho😄). I didn’t know that at the time, but baby I know now and i promise you I’ll never forget.

Stay ready to DrillaAyeP it’s most of them. And yes it is innate, involuntary, instinctive and their biology to attack and never take no as an answer. As told from a female officer who blamed me for what happen and told me I should’ve expected it. Well I will definitely expect it in the future. Ya know better, ya do better.

And shoutout to the handful (literally a handful🤲) of men on earth who knows what “No” means, have self control and don’t beat women up, or threaten and intimidate them for pussy. There’s not many of them on earth. But y’all are greatly appreciated by me. People are trying to convince me y’all don’t exist, but I know y’all do which is why I put myself in position to be raped to begin with because I thought most men were like that and that only 1% were rapist. I was wrong.

99% are rapist. And 1% are not. the police and rapist even agree with me. That’s why you don’t hang out with a man at night or alone. Even my rapist told me this and told me I should’ve protected myself better and he wouldn’t have did what he did. And he’s absolutely correct. He’s an innate rapist demonic alien beast who have no self control and who has no conscious nor awareness and is on rape autopilot.

[nezuscribe]

arguing with arranged!gojo is difficult because he’s not used to arguing with women and you’re not used to arguing period.

it rarely happens, but when it does it gets really heated between the two of you. you pace around your room, huffing as gojo stands there with his arms crossed, nose flaring.

like that one time he found out that one of the new guards the brought in from the west was somebody you used to fool around with.

yeah that was bad.

“why do you even care!” you snap at him, and he can’t find a plausible reason aside from the fact that he was purely jealous.

this guard that they’d brought in from the west, much to your shock, was somebody you used to see in the late hours of the night. you never did anything frisky, just some shared kisses here and there.

but the moment you saw him, your whole demeanor changed. and gojo could tell. it took a bit of picking and prodding (which gojo is great at) but you eventually told him the story.

and he was not excited to hear it.

“i want him gone,” he tells you and you roll your eyes, shrugging indefinitely.

“fine,” you throw your arms up, “get him out. but what about those girls? you think i don’t want them gone whenever we walk into one of those balls or those dinners? when i see the way they look at you? you think that’s easy for me?”

“it’s different,” his tone is unwavering and cold.

you scoff, shaking your head in dismay.

“what? what’s so different? that i kissed him? big deal!” you feel like you want to cry and yell and jump and scream at the same time.

because it was different. for you. because the men didn’t seem to care that gojo had a new wife, or that he cared for her. but the ladies did. they gossiped in frenzied tones, batted their eyelashes at him even more as if that could cast him away from your spell.

so you didn’t know why he cared so much about this one man. why it should matter to him when he’s had far, far more experiences than you.

you felt hurt that he doubted you, angered with his hypocrisy, and tired from spending the entire day ignoring each other.

“this is going nowhere,” you mutter eventually, picking up your pillow as his eyes drop to your hands, “i’m sleeping somewhere else.”

“what-”

“and don’t follow me,” you bite out, not even glancing behind your shoulder as you begin to sulk out of your shared bedroom to your old one all across the estate.

and sure, maybe you’re not being entirely fair. there’s been some petty arguments when he bumps into one of his old girls, but it didn’t hurt nonetheless when he accused you of lying, when the conversation of your old romantic life was just never brought up.

you wipe at the stray tears on your cheek as you slug down the stairs, sniffling to yourself as you curse your husband to hell and back, when a force unlike any other picks you up from behind.

“what?” you squeal, your body manicured over a strong shoulder, your legs near his torso, your eyes facing his back as you kick at him, “let me go, i’m going to fall!”

“don’t make me laugh,” gojo murmured, one strong arm around your waist, the other around your thighs as he hauls you back up the stairs.

“i told you not to follow me,” you grumble, pinching his back but he doesn’t react.

“you’re funny if you think i’ll let you sleep alone.”

your brows furrow, feeling the need to kick him, but also not wanting him to drop you.

it doesn’t take long for him to reach your bedroom, opening the door with his free hand (unbridled strength if the greatest warrior of the north meant he could pick you up with just one hand) and plops you back on the mattress.

you prop yourself up on your elbows, looking away, hoping he can’t see the tear marks.

because it did hurt. his words hurt you. they cut deep. and he notices, his gaze softening slightly.

“don’t cry,” he whispers, leaning down to trace your tears away but you swat his hand off of your face.

“then don’t make me cry,” you say with a heavy sigh, siting upwards, back slightly hunched.

you take a deep breath, rubbing at your eyes as you glance upwards at him. it’s been a while since the two of you had fought, and the first time over something serious, and he looks awful.

“i don’t judge you for being with those girls,” you start with a heavy whisper, “you did what you could to stay sane. but don’t judge me for doing the same.”

gojo breathes deeply through his nose, blinking.

“you’re right,” he says after a heavy second, causing you too look up in confusion.

he nods again, his big hand cup your jaw, his thumb rubbing your cheek as he catches the stray tear from the corner of your eye.

“you’re right and i’m sorry,” he repeats, and you’ve never had somebody agree with you before, “i just…saw the way he looks at you and…i didn’t like it.”

you offer him a small nod.

“but he just looked at me,” you shift so that your resting on your haunches, hands in your lap. he towers over you, one hand going to cradle the back of your head.

gojo shrugs, like he can’t put it into comprehensible words how he felt when that guard looked at you with hunger in his eyes. how only he was allowed to look at you with such starvation.

“i didn’t like it,” he can only repeat, and you know he struggles with his emotions, spent years hiding them so that they wouldn’t become his weakness.

“do you want to sleep?” he finally asks you, and you slowly blink, trying to hide the tiredness from your face.

“i’ll still be here when you wake up,” he offers and you crack a small smile, trying to hide it from him.

but your smile drops as you think, eyes darting up to his.

“it’s okay to not like something, and it’s okay to feel angry that you don’t. but don’t ever, ever, make me feel like that again because of it.”

your stare is unwavering, and he feels a certain sense of pride in seeing that. and gojo nods, one steady movement as he drops down to his knees, trying to be level with your gaze.

“you have my full authority to strike me down if i do,” he promises, his hands cupping your face, his words serious but you can’t help but giggle.

“good,” you murmur, tugging slightly harshly on some of the strands of his hair as he winces, pushing you back onto the bed with the sheer force of his body, climbing up into you as he hold you close to him.

you let out another laugh as he acts like a bear cub, not wanting to move an inch away from your warmth as he cuddles into you, trying to finish his massive size compared to you.

the two of you laid in silence, a comfortable one, as he laid his head in your chest, hearing the steady rhythm of your heart.

“i am sorry,” he whispers, craning his neck to look up at you as he rests his chin on your sternum, “i’m sorry.” he says again, his words barely above a sound.

you blink again, moving some of the hair away from his face as you observe his sorrowful features.

“i know,” you whisper back.

gojo finds your hands, interweaving your fingers together, heart tugging when he feels your ring against his skin.

he brings the finger to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against the ring as you watch him silently. no other words needed to be said, no words left unspoken as he pulls you into his chest.

because no woman would amount to a sliver of you. and no man would amount to a morsel of him.