#and maybe if we get questions i’ll answer those lol

[akkivee]

decided for my hypmic 7th anniversary post to list my fav song in each album, thinking it’d be easy enough, but i’m already stuck on the first mtr album what have i done to myself

[un-lawliet]

Hellooo hope ur having a good day! Can I request the first years founding out about Y/N being Gojo’s girlfriend and Megumi is not surprised at all LOL they’re literally his parents. <333

(THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST I ADORE THIS TROUPE THANK YOU THANK YOU i hope this is ok :)))) )

“Not So Secret.”

— In which the first years want to find out what is distracting their teacher, and Megumi is fed up.

“This is stupid.”

“Shut up Megumi!”

It was stupid.

It was stupid that Nobara and Yuji were peering through a crack in the door using each-other to balance as they both held awkward positions to see, fixated on catching the conversation that their teacher was having over the phone, in what Itadori coined as the “Secret Mission”.

“This is the fourth time he’s stopped teaching to answer his phone.” Yuji whispers, raising his finger to rest on his chin, his eyebrows scrunched in conviction.

“Exactly!” Nobara adds, whipping her head to look at Megumi eyes narrowed, crossing her arms, “It’s weird.”

They should be training, their weapons left abandoned in the training yard. It was Nobara’s idea to follow the white haired sorcerer, and Yuji had dragged Megumi along, despite his complaints, claiming, with a look of acute determination, that this was far, far more important than any training.

Satoru Gojo was an enigma to even those closest to him, his actions seemingly devoid of a will or want for understanding. His borderline erratic nature is what made this new repeated routine of ditching the first years for a something so benign as a phone call so inanely baffling.

“S’not that weird.” Megumi mumbled, because it wasn’t, because despite his constant affirmation that he was forced into a family with Gojo, he knew the man, and he knew who Gojo was calling.

The way the man’s entire face lit up when he glanced at his ringing phone, how he practically skipped out of the classroom without a second glance to his precious students.

His glee was palpable.

Gojo was on the phone with you…obviously.

“Itadori move I can’t see!”

“Huh? Aren’t we supposed to be listening???”

“Yes! But I can’t hear anything over your stupid breath in my ear, back up!”

“But then how am I gonna hear!?”

They were being way too loud, Gojo could absolutely sense them, even without his six eyes, and Megumi couldn’t understand why their teacher was pretending not to notice.

—“Maybe if you stopped talking we would actually hear something!” Itadori huffed.

“You stop talking!”

“No, I think I’ll talk plenty.”

“Megumi.” Nobara hissed, both her and Yuji now staring at him, “Take this idiot away please.”

“Both of you are being loud y’know?” Megumi deadpanned.

And they both glared at him indignantly.

“Well at least we’re trying!” Itadori frowned, “You’re standing so far back, there’s no way you can hear from there.”

Megumi could easily tell them, at this point he was considering it just to get them to stop this God awful attempt to spy.

But honestly? It was too warm outside to train and Megumi the was not in the mood to sweat today, and with Gojo distracted he could guarantee at least ten more minutes where he could relax.

When he had first moved in with Gojo, he remembers how the man paced around his apartment, practicing ways in which to tell you he’d basically adopted two children, on a random evening without telling you first.

Megumi recalls how Tsumiki had giggled, a sweet smile of her face, and asked if you were his girlfriend to which Gojo began to gush about you.

Your hair, your eyes, the way you laughed at his jokes, Gojo had shared every little detail about you, only freezing when Megumi insisted, “So, she isn’t your girlfriend then?”

“It’s complicated, you wouldn’t get it.” Gojo had glared, hands on his hips as he muttered “Brat” under his breath.

And Megumi held back a grin.

Now, almost ten years later, you had practically become a Mother to Megumi, doting on him and Tsumiki without question.

You were a teacher in Jujitsu Tech, just like Gojo, only you took the second year students under your wing, and you adored teaching them.

Every mission you came back from, you came with pretty bows to match Tsumikis hair, and when Megumi started using his technique you were his biggest cheerleader, bringing his demon dogs treats, and patting his head with shiny eyes, weeping about how proud you were of him.

And at some point the white haired idiot managed to finally grasp your affections, Megumi doesn’t know how or when but he does remember over hearing Gojos obnoxious laugh after he kissed you when he assumed nobody else was home.

Brazenly declaring his love for you in which you bashfully reciprocated, leaning into him with a giggle.

“You’re laughing.” Gojo had said, “I told you a joke and you’re laughing, I love you.”

And Megumi ignored how he had to hold back a smile, refusing to acknowledge the warm feeling of family that resonated in his chest.

He was good at playing oblivious.

“How is someone so loud so hard to hear?!” Nobara was back to pressing her ear against the door, ignoring the two boys. “I mean seriously it’s like he’s not even there!”

He probably wasn’t, Megumi thinks, Gojo likes to mess with people, he would never give up this opportunity to tease his students.

Nobara was facing them again, her eyes crinkled with mischief, before she’s gesturing to Yuji.

“Itadori, come here.”

“What? Didn’t you just say to back up?”

…

“Come here.”

“Ok.”

Megumi watched, amused as Yuji made his way back to her, oblivious to the devilish look in her eye.

“Now what? I can’t hear anything either you know, so what do you-”

Itadori yelped as Nobara pushed him through the door, a charming “Of you go!” on her lips.

Both she and Megumi jumped to each side of the door, shielding themselves from the eyes of anyone who was in the room as Itadori groaned.

“The hell Kugisaki? You could have just asked me to go in, I would have done it!” He pouted, rubbing his head.

Nobara rolled her eyes, “Is he there you idiot?”

“Is who- Wait huh???”

Nobara moved to look into the room, trailing Megumi behind her, curiosity getting the better of her.

The room was empty, a door leading to the back of the school hanging open, Itadori stood, his mouth open as he pointed furiously.

“Is that Y/N?” He gasped, his eyes shining with disbelief.

And Nobara glanced over, her eyes widening as she watched you kiss Gojo on the cheek, the pair of you holding hands as Gojo ate an ice cream that you must have brought back with you.

“Y/N and Gojo? Gojo and Y/N?” Nobara and Yuji were speechless.

“Megumi look, look!” Itadori grabbed Megumis shoulder and yet again, Megumi found himself being dragged against his will.

Gojo was looking at you, a ridiculous smile painting his features, as you fussed over him, readjusting his blindfold, so you could see his pretty eyes.

“There you are.” You sighed, your voice light as he winked at you.

“How was the mission hm? You’re back early.” Gojo mused, a hand reaching up to pinch your cheek, pulling it slightly, “Someone’s getting stronger.”

“Would you rather I stayed away longer?” You teased, swatting his hand away.

“Nah, how would I get ice cream during a hard days work without you.” And you gasped, your eyes flitting over his face.

“I completely forgot! You’re teaching I’m sorry oh my God-”

You’re cut off by his laughter, leaning down to whisper cheekily in your ear, “Look behind you baby.”

And you did, your eyes widening as you see Gojo’s first year class poorly hiding, observing the pair of you.

“Ah.” You sighed, then your eyes widened “Wait Gumi’s there too?”

Gojo pulled you back to look at him, nodding “He’s really opening up huh? I knew he would~”

You nod, opening your mouth to reply, before you were suddenly interrupted by Nobara and Itadori’s horrified exclamation;

“YOU KNEW??”

And as you heard Megumi’s groan, trying to silence his stupid friends, you and Gojo both laughed, leaning into each other, enjoying the company.

the end.

masterlist here <3

(A/N : i love writing nobara, she’s lit my fave character after Gojo i think- BUT also i love hana i hate that people hate her because she’s a “nobara replacement” she ISNT leave her alone!!!)

ANYWAY THANK U FOR THE REQUEST I HOPE THIS IS WAS OK :))

[habken]

Izuku and Katsuki Hospital Comic - Thoughts and Process

I wanted to talk about the process and my thoughts while making this comic! Cause it was A Lot of planning and I feel like talking about how I went about it could maybe be helpful for other people who wanna make comics too ?

Also I just like talking and I've had So Many thoughts about it over the last few months, I just need to get them all out lol

everything is under the cut (it's Very Long) ↓↓↓

Initial Thoughts

I started planning the comic in January, around the time the chapter with the second user's plan to transfer ofa to shigaraki came out. I remember feeling so anxious and sad seeing how devastated Deku was to lose the 'gift' that All Might had passed to him :'((

It made me start thinking about what it would be like to not only go from having all this insane power at your fingertips back to nothing, but also how it would feel to lose the vestiges, which had been his advisers, yapping in his ear and keeping him company for months. How it would feel to go from constantly having people looking over your shoulder back to silence.

Then I thought about what that would mean for his and Bakugou's relationship, which has developed so much over the series. How Bakugou would feel about Deku no longer having ofa, how the two of them would wrestle with old feelings now that Deku would be quirkless again. Bakugou having to face the kid he bullied and Deku going back to a state where the world saw him as "useless" with dreams too big for somebody without a quirk.

I feel like sometimes it's not really taken into account how Deku's past affects him in the present, and that goes for in the actual series as well. Considering he's the main character, it's funny that we never really get too much of a peak inside his mind lol, especially not recently, which is most likely intentional, but I digress.

What I really wanted to do for this comic was circle back to Deku's question to All Might at the start of the series, "can I become a hero without a quirk" because while yes, deku can be a hero, he had to get a quirk to do so. So what happens now that he no longer has it? After all of Bakugou and Deku's development, would Bakugou's opinion on deku pursuing his dreams while quirkless change?

I really didn't want that answer to be no. I didn't want to believe that Deku would have to give up and "be realistic" again, it just didn't feel right for that to be the answer after 400 chapters.

So I wanted to make something that would encapsulate those thoughts! And I felt like the best way to fully get that out was through a scene in the aftermath of the battle, the two of them in the hospital with nothing to do but talk about their feelings.

It was important to me that the doubts they both felt about the future were stomped out, and for there to be reassurance that things between them wouldn't snap back to how it was before UA. That Deku could still reach his dreams even if they did become harder to obtain.

I also felt like narratively it would be a good parallel if Bakugou were to lose something tied to his power too, and with his arm being so bad off in canon, I thought it made sense that there was a chance he could lose it forever.

So it's like they're both coming out of the final battle worse off with huge losses, but no matter what, they're going to fight to achieve their dreams, and they're going to do it side by side :')

At its core, it’s very self indulgent lmao, I didn’t think that we’d get something that sappy and gross in canon (😳) so I wanted to make something for myself :')

Planning

So then I made a first draft!

When I’m making bigger comics, thumbnails are super helpful! They help me see the full picture of what it could look like, and let me change things without putting in too much commitment. So most of the drawings are loose, but occasionally I’ll put in a little extra detail into things that I want to make sure are included in the final work.

There’s three main things I consider when thumbnailing for comics; expression, composition, and dialogue. Each of these things have a huge influence on each other, so keeping them all in mind when roughing out your drawings is important!

How it usually works is I play out the scene in my head like a movie and roughly come up with dialogue, then I draw characters and expressions based on that dialogue and the visions I had. Simultaneously I plan out approximately where those drawings will go/how much space they'll take up and finally, I add in the dialogue and move things around as needed so everything fits nice together.

Having the dialogue there in the draft lets me know around how big the speech bubbles are gonna be which is a massive help when figuring out paneling. It lets me plan around the bubbles and make sure nothing is too squished!

General tips:

Something I learnt from storyboarding is that establishing a setting for your scene at the start is really important! Most of my comics will start with a long shot or include one early on for this reason. It’s good for making sure readers aren’t confused on where everything is taking place!

Having a variety of shots is good for keeping your story engaging! This comic has a lot of closeups, but I tried to add variety where I could and used a lot of different angles to keep things entertaining even if there isn't that much going on

Final thoughts on this draft:

At this stage, the ending was really different from the final version I ended up with. It was a lot more focused on Bakugou's losses too and the vibe was kinda "well we're both nerfed now but that's chill we can still be heroes." I axed most of that cause I thought it was dumb and wasn’t really the conclusion I wanted lol

After the rough draft, I started sketching everything out and adding in panels based on the composition from the og thumbnails. I also changed the dialogue as I went, focusing on making it sound more natural and easy to read.

This is where the nuances in movement and expression became a bit more refined and speech bubbles where better planned out.

At this stage, establishing clarity and imagining how readers are going to move their eye along the page is really important. Comics are generally read left to right, but you can’t just assume people are going to automatically read it in the order you want, which is why panels and speech bubble locations are so important.

Tips:

A general rule is that along with going from left to right, speech bubbles should be in descending order. This can be broken a bit, but it’s important to remember that the rule is there in the first place for clarity's sake. So if you do plan on breaking it, make sure it's not at the sacrifice of legibility. The human eye is lazy and will jump to whatever seems most logical, so planning things out in a confusing manner is going to make your comic hard to read!

This is another thing I picked up from storyboarding, but keeping in mind the 180° rule is good for clarity as well! In the simplest of terms, if you have two characters in a scene, it’s good to keep character A on one side and character B on the other, and not switch those sides willy-nilly, otherwise it can get confusing. This isn't as important in comics as it is in film/television, but I still like keeping it in mind.

Final thoughts:

I hated the original ending but I couldn't exactly figure out how I wanted it to go, and I was too busy at that point to dedicate the time I needed towards it, so it stayed as these four panels for while :’)

During the period I stopped working on it, Deku lost his arms which had me panicking lmao, so much of the comic was devoted to his emotions and body language, specifically in his hands. I just went "am I gonna have to redo everything? Do I give him prosthetics?" and I was fully ready to rework the entire thing but Eri came in clutch for Deku (and me) <3

After Deku started getting hurt, I didn't really like the idea of him being discharged and sitting with a still injured Katsuki, and wanted it to be clear that they were both still in the hospital, so I had to axe poor Deku's "hospital gown" shirt for actual hospital garb </3

At some point during april-ish, I finally added in a new beginning and end, which took the comic from four pages to seven. I felt like the new parts added a lot more levity and humour which were needed, and I think it helped make Izuku and Katsuki feel closer than before.

For these pages, I skipped the thumbnail stage and jumped straight into full page stuff, which felt easier because they were kind of just add-ons.

Something I specifically liked were the first two panels in the last page. Fun fact, but a few days after I sketched those out, horikoshi released that art of to two of them smiling together and I went !! That's the vibe I wanted !! Me and Horikoshi are on the same wavelength! That was a good day lmao.

At this point, though, while new parts added a lot more to the story and brought it closer to the vibe I wanted, they also messed with the tone and overall pacing and it ended up feeling really off. Deku was now doing this weird 180 from being super sad and upset to then immediately joking around and goofing off with no acknowledgement of anything Katsuki was saying, which had been fine enough when it was just 4 panels, but very off-putting once I made the comic longer

...So I decided to add even more panels :')

I went back to my original ideas, and part of what I wanted to get across originally was the doubts about Izuku's future from here on out, and the worry that things would go back to how they were before he got ofa. I realized those initial things which had fueled the comic were no longer really part of it, and I wanted to change that.

When I thought up the idea of visuals surrounding their middle school selves, I felt so smart LMAO. I think it ended up being the thing that brought the entire comic together.

Izuku reverting back to that anxious, unconfident state, spiralling into himself, and mumbling out all his insecurities, including his fears about losing Katsuki's friendship (and yet still somehow more worried about Katsuki's feelings than his own). And in turn, Katsuki remembering and seeing Izuku as that kid again, and his own fears of becoming a bully once more.

It better explored what I wanted to originally get across and delved more into their feelings, so that the jokes and levity at the end felt like they were earned, rather than being a rapid shift in tone.

(The only other thing that changed was the some of the panels in the first page. I changed up the speech bubbles and got rid of a panel so it would be less cramped and easier to read.)

At this point, I was still having trouble figuring out how to tie everything in and segway pages 6-7 into the ending organically, so it sat like this for around a month.

Then chapter 423 released and the battle was over and I realized how little time I actually had to get the comic out. I knew that the next chapter could possibly make my entire comic obsolete, so I hauled ass :D

These were the final plans before I cleaned everything up! I changed around some of the panels to make the story flow better, I figured out how to tie everything in, and I finalized the dialogue!

At this point all the panelling was redone because I wanted more space in between them. Before, it felt really cramped and I think adding in more breathing room made it feel slightly less overwhelming for readers.

The biggest changes from the previous draft:

First, obviously, I finished the middle school stuff and figured out how to get from one part to the next. This was the hardest part of the planning, but I ended up deciding that Deku would spiral, Bakugou would kind of bring him out of that, they'd hug and then Bakugou would reassure him. I also included motifs relating to their childhood to be reminiscent of The Apology, and Katsuki's thoughts going back to them sharing the special All Might cards, them at the lake, etc. As if this was another healing moment for each part of them; their current selves, their MS selves, and their childhood selves too

I then changed some of the panels in the first page. I switched the direction of the diagonal line in the first few panels because I thought it made it more clear which way to start reading and made the comic flow better.

In the fourth page, I added a panel after Deku starts crying, because I felt like it worked better with the dialogue, and brought in more of Katsuki's POV into the story

The sixth page doesn't really look different, but there was a lot of resizing going on panel-wise. The bottom panel doesn't take up as much space and the panels up top are a little bigger

The final big change was the eighth page. I added in an extra panel and changed up a lot of expressions/dialogue so there was more of a natural transition between the heartfelt moments and the two goofing off

I then made some final changes and drawover notes before I started a week of cleanup and colouring!

Cleanup/Colouring Stage

Cleaning up my sketches usually just means duplicating the layer, putting the original layer at 5% opacity and.. cleaning it until it looks nice lol. It's the easiest way for me to work because I hate doing lineart.

This is what my sketch vs final usually looks like. The biggest change was adding in bandages into all the drawings lol.

For speech bubbles, I drew them all by hand, created a flat colour layer underneath in white, duplicated that and filled it in with black and shifted it with the transformation tool to make a drop shadow effect.

It took me two days to colour the whole thing :')

Usually when I colour, I work in a pretty painterly way, but I thought flats/cell shading would be a lot faster for this. I was right but it still took Very Long.

The smartest thing I did was put colour swatches of each colour I was using on a separate layer above everything else so I could easily use the eyedropper and get the right colour without having to reference them from another page. It was a big time saver!

I colour all on a single layer so I don't have progress photos to show, but for each drawing, I roughly added in all the colours in the approximate locations they'd be, and once I did that for every single panel, I went back and cleaned them up one by one.

And that's that! After colouring was done, I added my signature, posted it, and took the nap of the century.

Final, Final Thoughts

I worked... Very Hard to get the comic out before leaks night and even if it was just a few hours, I'm so glad I was able to do it cause when I saw the actual chapter I lost my mindddd

I feel like as the comic progressed, Katsuki's feelings took a backseat and if I was to redo it, I'd probably put a bit more emphasis on that than I did in the final version. I feel like his ~inner turmoil~ didn't fully come through the way I wanted it to. I didn't want it to be an immediate acceptance — I wanted the fact that he was struggling with his past to be evident too — but with the focus being so heavily on Izuku, Katsuki's inner thoughts get a bit lost which is too bad </3 Good thing is Horikoshi had the exact opposite idea as me, so it all worked out :D

I'm really proud of how the comic turned out, and I'm so happy to have gotten such a positive response to it! Thank you for reading if you got this far and thank you for reading my silly self-indulgent hospital comic :)

[caramelcleopatraa]

CAUGHT IN 4K

word count: 3.3k

x: finals are coming up, so i'm gonna be very busy, but i'm still writing y'all (this is the most consistent i've been lol) (excuse any errors of course) Hope you guys enjoyyy! leave comments... please. I love your comments.

content: Imani has a crush on Roman. Their friend group goes on live and her secret comes to the light. She thought that she was going to be rejected and move on, but things never go the way people expect. Roman Reigns x Imani, 18+ MDNI, oral (m recieving), cowg!rl, creamp!e

Imani loved weekend kickbacks. Time to chillax with her favorite people, and get her mind off of things. It was moments like these she waited for. Drinks and joints in rotation, and endless fun for hours to come. Jimmy, Jey, Roman, Trinity Talia, and Imani. She wishes that she was only thinking about the good vibes that circulated in the atmosphere, but she was focused on something else. It wasn’t like she was necessarily trying to focus on Roman, but it was inevitable when she could see him so clearly from the kitchen. She knew that having a crush on him could possibly mess up the bond that the group has, but he was so gravitating, He was perfect in her eyes. She basically textbook described him when Trinity and Talia asked her to describe her dream man: Tall, muscular, sweet, absurdly attractive, charismatic, humorous, dedicated. God, she could go on to name every single one of his attributes that she loved. She tried to brush it off as a mistake at first, but there was no part about this that was a mistake. He had a tight grip on her, and he wasn't even aware. She wonders what would happen if he felt the same way. If those pretty brown eyes she daydreamed about would reciprocate the love she was anxiously waiting to give him. She could only imagine all of the things she could do for him, to him, and provide him. If she had him all to herself, how they would spend their nights alone. How it would feel to be wrapped in his embrace. How it would feel to get lost in him between the sheets for hours, and repeat it again the next day. If she had him all to herself.

“WE GETTIN TURNT!” Talia raised her glass in the air and yelled out to her viewers, watching her through the small rectangular frame. Jimmy came around the corner with uno cards in his hands as the six of us gathered around the table. Roman, Trinity, or Jey would pop into the frame to answer a couple of questions while Jimmy shuffles the cards and Imani gathers multiple bottles to bring to the table. “Mani! They have some questions for you!” Imani joins her party, sitting the bottles on the table and scanning through the comments.

‘Do you get to go backstage with the bloodline?’

“Yes! It's amazing, I'm not gonna lie.”

‘Please do a makeup tutorial!’

“Maybe, I don't have a youtube channel.”

‘Seen any guys that have caught your eye?’

“A couple, but they ain’t nothin’ important.”

“Oh word?” Talia and Trinity both look at her with curious faces, but Imani just giggles and goes back to answering questions. 

“Ooh this is a good one. Kiss, marry, fuck: Jason Momoa, Michael B. Jordan, and Roman Reigns,” Talia reads out loud. That question got everyone’s attention. Jimmy stopped fidgeting with the cards and Roman and Jey both put their phones down impatient for her answer. “Well?” Talia was definitely setting her up, and she could feel it. Thank god for her brown skin that covered her fastly spreading blush. “Do I have to answer this?” “Yes, you do. I'm intrigued now,” Trinity says, as Imani quickly takes a double take at the entire table to see them all staring at her. She sighs before surrendering and thinking hard about the question.

“I’ll… kiss… Michael B. Jordan, fuck Jason Momoa, and marry Roman Reigns.” She instantly regretted answering the question before Trinity pried at Imani to get out more information that everyone was itching to know. “Hmm, why marry Roman?” She quickly swiped her drink off of the table and took a long sip, hiding her face. In all honesty, she wanted to say that it was the easiest choice, but that would only make her sound suspicious. And that was not a conversation that she wanted to have in front of quite literally everyone. “I'm not interested in the other guys like that.” “So you’re interested in Roman?” ‘Wait- wait! Noo that's not what I meant!’

“No, I just wouldn't marry the other two men. It’s not that deep Trin,” Imani says, a failed attempt at dismissing the conversation. “You’ve never gotten this defensive before… don’t tell me that you in your feelings.” She could see Talia smirking at the corner of her eyes. She knew she had to stop this fast. “You’re reaching Talia,” Imani says, laughing to herself. “Oooooh Imani wants the Tribal Chief, huh?” Never in her life had she ever been more embarrassed. “Jimmy, for the love of god, please start dealing the cards,” Imani says, covering her face, her words muffled by her hands. Everyone laughs, finding amusement in her nervousness. She anxiously waited for Jimmy to start dealing the cards so this moment could pass.

11:27 pm

Several rounds of uno and spades passed, and the guests were slowly starting to make their way out. She noticed Talia, Trinity, Jey, and Jimmy momentarily texting throughout the night, which would probably explain why the four of them were explaining the consequence of Imani losing a couple of rounds. “Sooooo we thought of something. Don’t be mad! It’s just a punishment for losing so much,” Talia says, sticking out her tongue. “Your punishment is that you have to ask Roman to fuck you.” ‘ASK ROMAN TO WHATT!?!?’

Her surprised face told them everything they needed to know. “You'll be fine. Uce will probably be down to fuck either way,” Jey says. Imani gave Talia a death glare, making Talia laugh. “You’re trippin’ girl. Just approach him with the right energy and make him want to stay with you. I guess this answers the question of if you have a crush on him or not.” Before she could defend herself, Roman walks in from the restroom and the four of them are gone in the blink of an eye. ‘These trifling’ heifers’

“Guess they all left. I should be on my way out then. Thank you for the food and dr-” She steps in front of him, stopping him from exiting out the front door. He looks at her with confusion. “You okay?” Her heart was beating fast. She didn't fully think out what she was going to do after she stepped in front of him, but it was now or never. 

“Fuck me.”

“...what?”

“F-fuck me.” She couldn't look him in the eye the second time. The pressure weighing on her shoulders was too much. But the thing that was racking her brain the most was how close they were. She felt like this was a disaster taking place in real time. She hears a soft chuckle, looking up to see him lightly smiling at her. “Was this your punishment for losing?” She nods, and his smile stays fixed on his face. “Do you want me to?” 

‘...did he say what I think he just said?’

Her mind is searching for an answer, a reason to say no. But she can't find any. As embarrassing and confusing this was, she had daydreamed about this moment. Maybe he was just being nice and would give her a quick fuck to fulfill the punishment. That idea became her leading thought. “You don’t have to if you’re uncomf-” “Do you want me to fuck you Imani?”

‘Shit he’s not joking.’

She slowly nods, which prompts him to lock the front door behind you. Her head was spinning, trying her hardest to maintain her composure. “Ask me again.”

“Fuck me, please,” She says nervously, eyes returning her shiny tile floors. “I don’t believe you sweetheart. Ask me again.” His hand gently grabs at her chin, making Imani look at him. Once they made eye contact, she knew that she was done for. She was already feeling weak from just looking at him. She took a deep breath before finally saying, “Please fuck me Roman.”

He wasted no time pulling her into a heated kiss. Not that she minded. This felt like a wonderful dream that she didn't want to wake up from. Only this wasn't a dream, it was real life. She finally got to feel the body that she had been drooling over. Right now, he was hers, and she was going to make the most of it. 

Her curious hands creeped along his captivating body while they explored each other’s mouths, dragging her hands up his torso from underneath his shirt. He pulled away from her soft lips to trail wet kisses from her cheek to her neck. “Not shy anymore huh?” She couldn't be shy. Her desire for him had completely taken over. “I really need you right now Roman,” She pants out. 

“Bedroom?” She nods and takes his hand in hers, leading the way to her bedroom. The sway of her hips only made Roman more aroused, as he silently admired her body from behind.

They enter her bedroom and she doesn't get a chance to close the door before being pulled into his arms again, temporarily hoisting her in the air to lay her on the spacious bed. He pulls her into another messy kiss, setting his focus on getting rid of their bothersome clothes. He quickly tore his shirt from his body and she did the same with hers. Their lips connected again, moving in harmony. He started to make his way down her body, but she squeezed his shoulders, signaling him to stop. “I wanna make you feel good first.” Roman was surprised to say the least. He kissed her tummy and replied, “Are you sure?” She gives him a confident nod, with those big doe eyes and her beautiful smile. “Alright, what do you want me to do?” “Let’s switch places.”

She scooted to the side, giving him room to lay down on the bed. She crawled down to his waist, tugging both his sweatpants and boxers down. His dick springs out of his pants, finally free from cloth restraints. Her eyes locked with his before lowering down to lick the underside of him; from his balls to his mushroom tip. A wad of spit drips from her mouth and lands on his length, using her hand to lather him up. His soft hums let her know that he was feeling good, and she was determined to make him feel a whole lot better. 

Her juicy lips start at his tip, giving small kitten licks before taking the tip in her mouth. Her warm mouth felt so good on his dick. He didn't know that Imani was this nasty. She gives him kisses up and down his shaft before taking him in her mouth again. 

She didn’t waste any time trying to tease him. He was big, and filled mer mouth well, but it’s nothing she's never handled before. Before she continued, the warmth of her mouth left him once again. “Can you record this?” Just when he thought she couldn't get more nasty. 

“Record?” She nodded her head. “Only if you’re comfortable.” “I’m more than comfortable,” Roman says, while reaching into his sweatpants pocket. He grabs his phone and opens the camera app, pressing record. “It’s recording, baby.” 

She smiles at the camera, curling her fingers around the base of his dick and tapping him against her tongue. She takes him in her mouth again for the final time, keeping her hand put at the base. She bobs her head slowly, swiveling her head from left to right. 

She keeps moving slowly, making sure to fit all she can in her mouth. Her hand that stayed curled around his base, moved in juxtaposition, stroking the rest of him that her mouth couldn't get to. “Goddamn baby, that mouth feels so good. I need that mouth around my dick all the time.” She moans in response, giving him vibrations that made him feel oh so good. She had him moaning and groaning. She didn't mind that at all. She got a big ego boost that he was so vocal from her mouth working its magic. She took note of every moan, every twitch, and any reaction he made. Right now, she was focused on his pleasure. 

His grip on his phone tightened, trying his best to keep his composure. She moved her head faster, still bobbing up and down, and using her hand to stroke his remaining inches. “Ahh s-shit mama, you keep sucking my dick like that and imma cum in your mouth.” She looks at him, already staring at her every move while she’s giving him euphoria like pleasure. She moans around his dick again, feeling her panties dampen. Her other hand massaged his balls lightly. Her slurping sounds made him close to coming. 

He couldn't take his eyes off of her. Those innocent eyes staring into him as he recorded her doing such lewd things. He tried his best not to tangle his hands in her hair and fuck her mouth full of him. But her mouth felt so good, and he wanted nothing more than to cum in her mouth. He couldn’t help himself when his hands disappeared into her hair, planting his feet on the bed and fucking up into her mouth. She put her hands behind her back, letting him use her as he pleased. His thrusts were quick, but soft, his balls slapping against her chin. “Oh fuck! I’m coming mama, ooh I'm comin’.” He kept her head steady while coming deep in her throat, and she accepted with jubilation. 

She bobbed her head a few more times, trying her best to overstimulate him the most she can, until his hand grabs her chin, lifting her up. “Slow down princess,” He says, ending the recording. She crawls up to meet him, giving him a quick passionate kiss. “See how good you taste?” Roman chuckles at her boldness. “Your turn. Lie down,” He says, trying to sit up, but fails due to her pushing him back down on the bed. “I need that dick right now daddy.”

“You don’t want me to eat that pussy?” She runs her hand through her messy hair. “God yes I do, but I need you to fuck me right now.” Her eyes did more pleading than her words. 

“I wanna record this too,” she says, looking down at his chest, tracing the intricate tattoo. He feels around the bed, finally grabbing the phone and reopening the camera app. “Can you prop it up somewhere? I want you to be able to touch me.” “Already on it baby.” He climbed back further on your bed, propping the phone up against the lamp on the nightstand. While he did that, she slid off her shorts and panties, throwing them behind her. He pressed record again, and instructed her to adjust herself so the camera could capture everything. 

His hands landed on her ass as they both observed themself. His hands felt so good kneading her ass, and she saw his eyes drinking in every part of her body. He couldn't keep his hands off of her curvaceous body, and he didn't want to. “You like it?” Her soft hands massaged his shoulders, making him groan softly. “I love it baby, love this ass.” An unexpected slap to her ass made her jump. “You sound so good, daddy.” His hands move her hips along his dick, grinding her body against his. 

“How long have you been thinking about this?” She shies away from his gaze, a sudden flash of embarrassment runs through her body. She had forgotten about all of her feelings of distress and nervousness and realized that she was running on arousal and adrenaline. “A-a couple of months.” He lifts her hips and grabs his length, rubbing the tip along her slit. A few rubs up and down her slickness before impaling her on his dick. They moan simultaneously, relishing in the mind numbing pleasure. “You been thinking about taking this dick baby?” She gives him small head nods, still captured by the feeling of him inside of her. His hands cupped her chin, turning her head to the direction of the phone, steadily recording them. His hands were full of her ass, moving her up and down his shaft slowly. His unsteady breaths and her elongated moans were harmonious. “Go ‘head then. Bounce that ass on my dick.”

Her eyes focused on him as she steadied herself, her hands placed on either side of his head. She throws her ass back, his thighs catching it every time. His eyes were still glued to the phone, watching her beautiful body on top of him. But it wouldn’t be long until he faced her again, her soft titties hanging in front of his face. She had daydreamed about fucking Roman, and she was finally doing it. It gave her confidence knowing that he couldn't keep his hands off of her body. Her facial expression told her exactly how she was feeling. It was almost overwhelming how sexy she was. Beautiful smile, sexy body, paired with addicting moans that made him want to fuck her all night long. 

“Mmm~ look at you taking daddy’s dick. You’re doing so good,” Roman pants, grabbing at her breasts. His gentle praises and gruff voice was enough to make her cum. His dominating presence, his words, his touch. This man had her mind running laps. Even though he wasn’t putting in any effort, he was hitting all the right spots.

Her words were slurred, eyes rolled back, mouth wide open spewing salacious moans. Her hips slowed down, the constant rhythm created by her ass and his thighs meeting no longer lasted while she hid in the crook of his neck. Her body was decorated with a sheet of sweat that didn’t take away from her golden hue. “Look at me.” She rested on her elbows, locking her eyes onto his. Their faces were laced with lust, an unsatisfied want for each other. 

His strong arms caged her in, preventing her from squirming or escaping. She was still catching her breath while Roman planted his feet on the bed again. He places a tender kiss on her cheek before fucking up into her. She grabbed on to any part of his body that could, her eyes fluttering shut. A harsh slap to her ass makes her scream in pleasure. “I said look at me,” Roman says, demanding her full attention.

“Ohhh- my god! You feel so fucking g-good!” Roman loved watching her unravel. How she screamed for glory while he fucked her. God, he could make this his favorite hobby. Making her cum over and over again. “Mhm- fuckk- keep talking to me baby.” Her mind was foggy. She could only focus on one thing right now, how good he was dicking her down. Roman was making her feel so good. She looked at his phone propped up on the nightstand again to see their reflection. Her ass rippled from his hard strokes. That sight alone had her ready to cum. “Shhit! I’m finna cum on that big ass dick!” “Yeah? You finna cum?”

Her nails dug into his broad shoulders, feeling a knot build up in her stomach. “Cum with me Imani, let me feel you cum around my dick.”

Her eyes shut as she came, her orgasm hitting like a dam breaking, sending waves of pleasure throughout her body. His hips slowed down, but still gave her deep strokes, coming deep inside her. High pitched moans and deep grunts filled the room. His hands lazily grab her hips, allowing her to move again. She reached to grab the phone and ended the video, dropping the phone somewhere as she laid limp against his chest. His thumbs worked small circles as they both caught their breath. “I’m gonna take a shower when I get up, wanna join me?” Imani hears him chuckle, still working small circles into her hips. “Nah, we’re not done. I gotta eat that pussy, Imani.”

If these were the punishments she got for losing in spades, maybe losing wasn't so bad after all.

🏷️ tags :) @reignsboy19 @2-muchsauce @theninthwonder @harmshake @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @alyyaanna @empressdede @badbitchcentralinc @christinabae @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @cyberdejos2

[mikanotes]

goodbyes are sour

connor x gn!reader — 2.1k words

genre: angst sorta! mutual pining in denial

warnings: mentions of guns and killing, kabedon for the sake of science, connor unreliable narrator LOL u have feelings android man… maybe ooc idk. (wrote this w the idea of connor being deviant since the beginning bcs Yeah!)

synopsis: You meet Connor again. Turns out things are much more complicated when you aren’t working together.

author’s note: hi dbh fic?! i Love connor nd i’ve been writing this for a while (crazy since it’s rly short) but i don’t like it much… anyways whoevers alive in the dbh fandom have this!

“Detective.”

There’s just something about the way Connor speaks. The cadence, the pitch, the enunciation of each word. It’s painfully evident that he isn’t human. Everything about him is so machine-like that even his perfect, human-like exterior could not fool anyone. However it is something you got used to. Hearing the android speak your name and call you ‘Detective’ back a while ago felt somewhat unsettling. Now it’s so easy to recognize that it almost makes you feel at ease.

“Do you seriously think I’m an android? I don’t wanna deal with those fucking machines, either. I’d be glad if you put a bullet through them rather than me.”

Turns out hearing him fake being a human is ten times more terrifying than his android speech patterns could ever hope to be.

This was not part of the plan.

You were sent with a unit to patrol around the streets for any android who still hadn’t been brought back or destroyed. You weren’t a fan of this whole assignment, but felt better than the rookies who were sent out to shoot humanoid robots as their first field mission probably did.

It would be fine, is what you told yourself, because you didn’t feel anything towards Cyberlife’s creations enough to be completely uncomfortable with the idea of their blue blood on your hands, though it wasn’t ideal. You could manage. Until the first person you came across happened to be the one android you genuinely cared about.

“I don’t think he’s one of them…” one of your fellow officers murmurs next to you. You suddenly become very aware of the gun he, too, is holding and pointing towards the target. Fuck. As if the situation wasn’t bad enough.

At least this idiot’s performance seems to be fooling them.

You wait one second, then sigh on the second, and finally lower your gun on the third. “You shouldn’t be here.” you say casually, prompting your colleagues to relax and the atmosphere to lighten a little. Your heart is in your throat, however. “We’ve got orders to round up every android we see around here. You should go home. This isn’t exactly safe.”

“I know, I know.” he sighs, rolling his eyes a little, “I was gonna leave anyways, thanks.”

Your coworkers mumble to themselves about how disagreeable this guy’s attitude is and it’s enough for them to miss the wink the latter sends your way as he leaves. You almost regret not shooting a bullet through his head.

Still, you sigh in relief, setting your gun back at your side and running a hand over your face. You don’t think you can continue patrolling in peace. There’s one too many questions in your mind and the key to answering them is escaping from your grasp.

You take the phone in your pocket and pretend to get a call, moving it to your ear and looking at the members of your team. “I’ll join up with you later.” you say, gesturing towards your phone. They nod and walk away, and you do the same, feeling more relieved than ever that these people see you as a leader of sorts. They won’t question you on anything. You hurry towards the direction your so-called partner left to the moment they’re out of sight.

A rooftop door, stairs, and more stairs. You’re jogging down like you’re chasing a criminal on the run. You’re down to the fifth floor out of eight when someone grabs your arm and pulls you out a door.

“Wha—” you try to yell, but a cold hand settle over your mouth. Your body relaxes but your expression tenses. Connor. “Let me go,” you mumble incoherently, surprisingly succeeding in getting him to let you step away.

You sigh and shake your head, turning around abruptly. His ‘human costume’ (which really just was a grey suit jacket thrown over what should’ve been his Cyberlife uniform, glasses, and a cap to hide his LED) is already gone, replaced by his usual attire, just missing his jacket.

“What the hell was that about?” you ask, annoyed, pointing towards the staircase (back there, on the roof) and the android simply shrugs. “Connor.”

“I was undercover, Detective. I thought someone as smart as you would recognize that much.” he says, his tone back to normal. You’d feel relieved if he wasn’t being so irritating. “Was I wrong?”

Your face drops. “No. I figured as much. But what for?” you sigh, crossing your arms.

“Same mission as always.”

“Who are you chasing? Did you find the place?”

“I have no reason to tell you.”

It only clicks then that while you know about Connor continuing his mission after being laid off the case, you’re not part of it anymore. He had to be sent back to Cyberlife, and you should’ve been forgetting about him entirely. You’re still DPD, and you have orders to shoot Androids on sight— Which you clearly aren’t following. He’s right. He has no reason to tell you.

Still.

You grab his arm when he threatens to walk away. You’re not sure what you want to say, but you’re not done talking. He lets you. “Connor.”

“Detective.” he says. You straighten your back and sigh, not breaking eye contact. He tilts his head to the side and his LED flashes yellow for an instant. “You’re angry.”

Of course you’re angry. He’s infuriating. There’s something about how logical and dead-set on following every single rule he is that makes Connor the most annoying individual you’ve ever talked to. Everything he does has to be for his mission. Every single thing.

“Do threats work with you?” you ask blankly, “If you don’t tell me where it is, I’ll get Cyberlife to bring you back, and all that?”

When he takes a step closer to you again, forcing your back to press against the wall, and his LED does not even threaten to change hues, you’re taken aback. Just a bit. It’s the same kind of frustrated attitude you would’ve expected from a human after saying what you just did. But not Connor.

He doesn’t seem frustrated, though. And you know he can look annoyed. He just doesn’t. So he must not be. And you want to find what it is he’s doing exactly, stepping closer to you without even saying a word, but your brain feels like it’s short-circuiting at the distance between you two. You know he does everything for his work. Does he think you have new information on deviants? Does he really believe you would call Cyberlife on him? Is he using his stupid interrogation module on you? Whatever it is makes you even more annoyed.

The silence feels heavy. It makes things worse. It gives your brain time to process how this is making you feel and it’s no good at all. “What?” you break the silence, tone somewhat irritated.

“I’m trying to understand the reason why you’re so angry at me.” he explains simply, like it makes sense. His eyes narrow a bit and the LED at the side of his head flickers yellow for a moment. “And no, Detective. Threats don’t work on me. Not when I can tell you’re lying so easily.” he adds, quieter.

“Shut up.” you scoff.

“I dont think I will.”

“Connor.”

“— However,” he interrupts, “I can step away from you at any moment if you tell me to.”

“No.”

“No?”

What— No?! You register the word after saying it and sigh, face contorting into a somewhat pained expression. You panicked and said it, your mind processing his offer as him leaving you again— With no information and nothing to ease your stupid worries. Now it just sounds odd.

Is that embarrassment?

“You didn’t finish what you were trying to do, did you? You haven’t told me why I’m angry yet. Since you apparently care so much.” you say, tone sounding much softer than before. Your apparent discomposure took away all the bitterness from your voice. Interesting.

Truth be told, Connor knows why you’re angry. He’s not letting you in on the details of what he’s doing despite the time you spent working as partners a very short while ago. He’s spent enough time with people, and you especially, to know that after forming some kind of bond with a work partner, it would be frustrating not to receive information about their mission the way you used to from them—

Especially considering he was still chasing after something you both knew about. Jericho. But he cannot tell you about that. Not… Right now.

What he really was trying to do was evaluate how much of a threat you really could be to his investigation. He didn’t sense any hostility before and he doesn’t now, and you could’ve shot him but you didn’t. But it’s not enough. He needs more time— More evidence that it’s fine. That’s why he pulled you here in the first place. That’s why he pressured you to talk.

He needs to make sure killing you isn’t necessary.

“Because I posed a threat to the stability of your current mission earlier. You wouldn’t have been able to shoot me had I been discovered, and your reaction to your colleagues shooting me would’ve jeopardized your job itself.” he answers.

This reasoning would make sense.

“That’s not it.” you sigh.

Your heartbeat is slowing down. No good. Connor leans his arm on the wall next to you and moves closer. Your heartbeat picks up in speed. It’s almost alarming. He can tell all the details about your physical condition and deduce what you’re thinking or feeling based off of them, sure. But he’s no human. The way he views and comprehends emotions is registered in his system in a much more clear and logic-based way than it is in humans’ brains.

So maybe he won’t ever know why your heart beats so heavily against your ribcage. So he just has to pressure the right places and demand answers. He unfortunately can’t allow you to relax. He won’t get anything out of you if you’re calm. You’re much too turbulent for that.

Or maybe he’ll just have to ask. In a normal way.

“Detective, what’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” you scoff, eyes widening. Wrong question.

You seem like you want to be angry but something is holding you back from displaying just how much he gets on your nerves. You sigh deeply and look at him, “What’s wrong with you? You’re acting so weird. More than usual. Why’d you pull me here if you didn’t want to tell me anything? And I’m worried. What if you really did get shot? Wasn’t Cyberlife supposed to deactivate you? They wouldn’t have brought in another Connor this time. You’re off the case, you— You would’ve died!”

“Maybe.”

There’s circles under your eyes. There always are, but they’re more defined now than they were the last time he saw you. Now that you’re actually being honest, your whole voice and mannerisms betray any of your usual annoyed and dismissive facade. He didn’t think you cared this much, though he understands that some humans are quick to empathize. To a fault.

Now it’s clear he doesn’t need to eliminate you at all. Part of him seems to have grown fond of your company. He couldn’t risk that getting in the way of his better judgment.

“I only pulled you here so you wouldn’t pointlessly chase down the streets searching for me, since I made sure no one would follow.” he says, stepping back and giving you more space, “You’re a police officer. It doesn’t matter what you say you’ll keep to yourself or not. I can’t compromise. This is too important.”

You’re hurt, it’s visible. He’s saying he can’t risk trusting you. He figures that must not feel nice.

The sound of the radio attached to your side breaks this prolonged silence with the promise of separation. You take it, eyes not leaving Connor’s, and listen to your colleague speak. You tell them you’ll be right there. You’re not one to be late. He knows you’ll really leave this time— Too far away for him to hope to talk to you again, if anything goes awry.

You turn the radio off and put it back where it was. “Hope you succeed, then.” you say, bitter, and push yourself up to start walking away.

“Take care of yourself, Detective.” Connor says. Asks. The words come out before he can really think. Something about your voice and this whole atmosphere made him… Feel uneasy. Like he needed to say something. If this is how your partnership ends, he doesn’t believe it should be on such a sour note. He cares doesn’t dislike you at all, so why should it?

You stagger a little, seemingly stopping in your tracks, but moving again no more than a second later. “You too, Connor.”

Somehow, goodbyes had never seemed so sad.

[katsu28]

hiii request for jamie tartt here🫡 i loved ur recent fic sm!!! could you maybe do the acacia flower or sunflower prompt? in my head i see hiding their relationship bc reader is a teammates sibling, but oopsie someone got heart eyes and started rambling haha

or literally anything else is fine too if this doesn’t strike your fancy lol<3 tysm!!!

hello!! i loved this so much, u are a gem for requesting it <3

acacia: a hidden relationship + sunflower: drunken rambling about their adoration, jamie tartt x kent!reader (no physical descriptors so imagine whatever sibling type u want!), 2k

“Are you sure we can’t tell him about us?” Jamie’s voice from where he was fixing his hair in the mirror pulled you away from your book and you glanced over at him. 

This was a question he posed to you all the time, and every single time, your answer was the same—though getting more creative with the details with every occurance. 

“Do you want my brother to gouge your eyeballs out? Cut off your dick? Possibly murder you?” 

Jamie paled, freezing in place. “Not particularly.” 

“Then no, we can’t tell Roy we’re seeing each other.” You picked up your book again, ready to resume your reading, but Jamie let out a noise resembling that of a kicked puppy’s whine. His shoulders slumped and he trudged over to you, throwing himself down on the bed in front of your crossed legs. 

Setting your book aside for good this time, you watched him make himself comfortable with his head in your lap, cheek pressed against your thigh as he looked up at you with the puppy dog eyes to match his previous whine. 

“I hate all the secrets. I have to lie to him, straight to his scary face, every fuckin’ day. D’you know how stressful that is? How stressed I am?” He huffed. You bumped your knuckles against his chin affectionately.

It wasn’t fair, Jamie having to face Roy and lie everyday when you had to do it a tad less often, but it was a necessary evil. One day, you’d tell your brother, but first you had to figure out how. 

This, among other reasons, were the downsides to being in a secret relationship with Jamie. There were tons of upsides too, no doubt about it. 

You had the privilege of seeing a softer, sweeter side of him that was reserved only for you, but you couldn’t go out in public with him. Nights in were your favorite dates, but sometimes you wanted to go to a fancy restaurant and eat expensive food and share a dessert with your boyfriend without needing to worry about the tabloids having a field day of it all. 

You could already see the headlines if the press ever caught wind of your relationship—AFC Ricmond Star Jamie Tartt Bags Manager Roy Kent’s Sister. They’d stir shit up, claim that Jamie was only with you because your brother was in a position of power over him and who knows what else. 

Most of all, you certainly couldn’t let Roy find out you were seeing one of his players, especially not Jamie fucking Tartt. They were friends now, but he’d always been overly protective of his sisters ever since you were all kids. He’d throw a fit and probably kill Jamie, then you. Well, he probably wouldn’t go that far, but you’d definitely be on his bad side until he got over himself. And you loved your brother to death, but he was a dickhead sometimes. 

“I’m gonna get early wrinkles, love. You don’t want me to have those, do ya?” 

“I think you’d look adorable with wrinkles. Like a cute little old man.” You dotted a kiss to his forehead, attempting to smooth out the crinkle between his eyebrows with your thumb. 

“That’s not funny.” 

“It’s a bit funny.” 

“Right, since you obviously don’t appreciate my problems, I’m off.” Jamie heaved himself off the bed, forcing out a rather overexaggerated sigh. You smiled innocently at him and he rolled his eyes, his own soft smile still on his face. He leaned down to press a kiss to your lips before heading for the door. “Dunno when I’ll be back but don’t wait up for me, yeah?” 

“Have fun, my love. I’ll just be here, thinking about you with wrinkles.” 

“Still not funny!” 

The Greyhounds were out in full swing tonight. Colin had somehow managed to book an entire pub for a whole night so they could drink and have a good time without being swarmed by the press vying for any morsel of gossip about one of the best up and coming Premier League clubs. Good friends, good food, even better beer—what more could anyone ask for? 

Jamie had been taking full advantage of it. That, paired with the fact that he no longer had to follow that god awful diet that deprived him of his beloved ice cold beverage, had led him to where he was right now, leaning heavily against the bar, drunk off his ass due to some sort of drinking game Jan Maas had insisted on teaching him. 

See, tipsy Jamie was fun. Very generous, would offer to buy a round or two, good for a few funny stories the next day. Absolutely pissed Jamie was a textbook oversharer. He didn’t make much sense, so everyone just mumbled a ‘very cool, mate!’ or something of the sort, made sure he didn’t topple over—those kinds of things. 

Roy was nursing his own beer next to Jamie tonight, half-listening in contained amusement as the Mancunian babbled on and on about someone. Who the fuck it was, Roy had no idea, but it was good entertainment and had soon garnered the attention of the rest of the team. Maybe this could be another one of those funny stories they could joke about in the locker room tomorrow. 

“She don’t look anythin’ like you, thank god. Imagine—imagine that! A lady Roy. Shit’s mad!” Jamie mused, amber beer spilling over the lip of the pint. “Nah, she’s the prettiest and the funniest and the coolest person ever and I love her.” 

“Who the fuck are you talkin ‘bout, bruv?” Isaac asked incredulously, looking just as amused as everyone else.

“Mate, I’m talkin’ ‘bout me girlfriend,” Jamie said very as-a-matter-of-factly, like they should’ve known that. “Duh.” 

“You’ve got a girlfriend? Since fucking when?” 

Jamie counted off on his fingers, scrunching his nose in thought. “Erm…four, five months? Maybe six?” He shook his head quickly, correcting himself. “No, not six. Would’ve done something special for six, wouldn’t I?” 

“First I’m hearing of it. How ‘bout you boys, did you know Jamie had a girlfriend?” Isaac asked, looking around. A chorus of ‘no’s and similar answers sounded amongst the others. Jamie’s brow furrowed. “It’s settled then. Who’s got the heart of the great Jamie Tartt?” 

“Good rhyme, boyo!” Colin chimed in, clapping his best friend on the back. 

Isaac looked proud of himself. “Whoa. I’m a fucking poet and I didn’t even know it.” He accepted another few praises before turning his attention back to Jamie, who looked like he was thinking really long and hard about something. “Okay, back to you. Tell us about her.” 

“I don’t even know where t’start, man,” Jamie sighed happily, resting his chin in his palm. “She’s kind and warm and—and she knows me better than anyone. It’s like…it’s like she’s an angel.” 

It was kind of weird, hearing Jamie be so open about his feelings for another person. He’d always been one to play things close to the vest, so that’s how they knew things with this secret girlfriend had to be serious. 

Sam beamed, happy as ever that his friend had found someone special. “Surely the angel from above has a name? Maybe one of us knows her?”

“Y/N.” 

The room fell silent. Everyone turned to look at Roy, who looked like he was about to start punching dicks. 

“Y/N, like…Roy’s sister, that Y/N?” Sam replied hesitantly, drawing pointed looks from every single one of his teammates. “I’m just confirming! There are other people named Y/N in London, you know.” 

Jamie pointed in his teammate’s general direction, nodding aimlessly. “Yep, her. That’s my girl.” 

Roy stood from his seat without a word, grabbing Jamie under the arm and dragging him towards the door. 

“Hey man, what the fuck are you—” 

“Just fucking shut up, will you?” 

“Okay.” 

You were about to call it quits on finishing your book and turn in for the night when the doorbell rang. When you went to open it, you definitely weren’t expecting to see your brother standing on your doorstep, practically carrying your half asleep boyfriend and looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. 

“Your prick boyfriend got proper pissed. Where do I put him?” 

So Roy knew. And judging by the way Jamie was swaying on his feet, you guessed that he’d been the one to let the cat out of the bag. 

“Erm, couch is fine. I’ll get him settled later.” You opened the door a little wider to let them in and Roy grunted his acknowledgement, hauling Jamie over to the couch and promptly dumping him onto the cushions.

Jamie didn’t even flinch when his face hit the pillows, instead just letting out a dreamy sort of sigh and smacking his lips together without even opening his eyes. You were the one to roll him over onto his side, nudging the dustbin right near his head before covering him with a blanket. 

“How much did he drink?” You asked, smoothing the walnut mist strands away from his eyes. 

“Too fucking much, that’s how much.” Roy grumbled. He wandered over towards a different area of your flat, not wanting to wake Jamie. “Jan Maas taught him a Dutch drinking game, except that fucker can actually hold his alcohol.” 

You cast a fond glance back at your boyfriend, smiling softly at his peaceful face. “Yeah, this one can’t really drink much anymore. Said it’s because of your training regimen, the no beer thing.” 

“Of fucking course you’d know.” 

“I assume Jamie told you about us.” You said quietly, picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of your jumper instead of looking at Roy. Another vague low noise of acknowledgement from him, though it sounded a bit more strained this time. “If it helps you come to terms, Jamie’s been wanting to tell you for ages. I was the one who wanted to keep it under wraps.” 

“Why?” 

You let out a humorless chuckle, shaking your head. “‘Cause I knew what you’d think. Knew what you’d have to say about it.” 

“Are you a mindreader?” 

“No.” 

“Then how would you know what I’d think?” 

“Oh come on, Roy, you don’t think I know how you are? You get…dickish. I still remember you scaring off poor Billy Montgomery in year nine!” 

“Billy Montgomery was a fucking wanker, that’s why.” 

“Yeah, I know that now,” You huffed, scowling. Roy raised an expectant brow at you. “You’ve always been outspoken about the people I date. I just—I didn’t want you to be that way with Jamie. I know you’ve had your differences, and I know you’ve made up, but…I dunno, I was just worried about what you’d think of us.” 

“Do you love him?” Roy asked stiffly. There was a tic going in the hard line of his jaw when he forced his gaze to yours, and it almost looked like he was in the middle of shitting a brick. If you hadn’t been so nervous about his reaction, you probably would’ve laughed. 

“I do. A lot, actually. He’s…everything I could’ve asked for. Everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner.” 

“Then it shouldn’t fucking matter what I think.” Roy said. “Jamie makes you happy, and that is the only thing that matters.” 

To say you were taken aback was an understatement. You’d been so worried about how you thought your brother was going to react to the news, you never stopped to consider that maybe Jamie wasn’t the only person who’d been working to change for the better. 

“Thank you, Roy.” 

Caught up in your heartfelt sibling talk, neither of you had noticed Jamie had woken up and stumbled over to the two of you until he gathered the two of you into a rather squished hug.

“My two favorite people, the Kent siblings! You guys are the best!” He slurred, nuzzling into the embrace. Roy let out a growl, but he patted Jamie’s back stiffly nonetheless. You had to stifle another laugh at how utterly uncomfortable he looked right now. “Oh fuck, I think I’m gonna throw up—” 

“That’s it, I’m fucking leaving.” Roy shoved Jamie away from him, wiping his hands off on the front of his jacket and heading for the front door. “Make sure he doesn’t choke on his own vomit and tell him he’s still got training tomorrow, I don’t care how shitty he feels!”

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[fluentmoviequoter]

You Weren't Supposed to Hear That

Requested Here!

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x shy!wife!fem!reader

Summary: After years of trying, you get pregnant. With Deacon's birthday coming up, you decide to surprise him with the news, but he catches on to your nervousness and you accidentally tell him more than you mean to.

Warnings: brief angst, lots of fluff, Deacon teases his shy wife

Word Count: 1.6k+ words

Picture from Pinterest (we're pretending this is Deacon's party lol)

“Deac,” you mumble, trying to turn away from him.

“Your cheeks are really warm. Maybe we should both stay home today,” Deacon teases before pressing more kisses to your jawline.

You keep your eyes closed, accepting your fate as Deacon moves closer to you, kissing over your cheekbones.

“It is my birth-week,” Deacon adds. “You shouldn’t deprive me of your love this close to my birthday.”

“And you shouldn’t try to make my cheeks warm so often,” you argue halfheartedly.

“Try? Oh, sweetheart, I succeed every time I set out to make you shy.”

You turn toward your husband, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. He chuckles, rubbing your back. Deacon doesn’t know, but you’ve been craving his touch more than usual the last few weeks. With his surprise birthday party approaching, you’re keeping more than one secret from him.

“Would you really stay home with me?” You trace your finger over his chest as he answers.

“In a heartbeat.”

“One of yours or one of mine?”

Deacon presses a hand to your chest, and you immediately regret the question. Your heart races beneath his touch, and he nods as if inspecting something.

“Yours.”

“Go to work,” you request, leaning closer to him.

“I’m getting mixed signals.”

“Then pick one.”

“Grumpy this morning, aren’t we?”

You don’t answer, moving impossibly closer and tangling your legs with Deacon’s. He chooses the first option of going to work, pressing apologetic kisses to your forehead as he removes himself from you.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he promises. “I love you.”

“I love you. Be safe.”

“Always. Gotta get back to those warm cheeks and racehorse heart.”

You frown at his teasing, and he chuckles on his way out. After his car leaves the driveway, you move your hands to your stomach, wondering if he can tell you’re not quite the same. Keeping the secrets is hard, especially when he looks up at you with his big, brown eyes, but you only have a few more days. As long as he doesn’t ask, you’ll be fine.

✯✯✯✯✯

“What’s the problem, Deac?” Luca asks, lowering the boxing mitts on his hands. “You’re not pullin’ your punches like usual.”

“Something’s up with my wife but she’s too shy to tell me. I’d think it was about my birthday, but she’ll talk about that with no problem.”

Deacon looks down, and Luca looks over at Hondo. Hondo shrugs, unaware of anything other than the surprise party.

“Any ideas about what she would keep secret?” Luca asks.

“Nothing, I didn’t think. It takes some time to get her to talk, but she tells me everything eventually.”

“Then she’ll tell you whatever this is when she’s ready, too.”

✯✯✯✯✯

You stare at the ultrasound until it grows blurry. The tiny baby growing inside you is just a speck of white ink. Since you got married, you’ve wanted to start a family with Deacon, but it never seemed to work. When you were late a few weeks ago, you didn’t think much of it until you saw the two pink lines on the test. After dozens of negative tests and nights of Deacon drying your tears, you thought you imagined it. The ultrasound in your hand is proof, though, as are the nausea and the weight gain no one except you has noticed.

When you hear a car door close, you rush to hide the ultrasound. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, like Poe’s telltale heart beneath the floorboards. If Deacon finds the ultrasound before the party, he will assume you were hiding it. Which you are, but because you want it to be a birthday present. You’ve been nervous about Deacon catching on by himself, but with proof like this in the house, your nervousness grows into genuine fear that half of the surprise will be ruined.

“You okay?” Deacon asks.

Looking up quickly, you wonder how you didn’t hear him come in. “Yeah,” you answer softly. “Just thinking.”

Deacon nods, sitting next to you and pulling you into a hug.

“Are you sure everything is okay? You’ve been quiet, a different quiet.”

You shrug, and Deacon’s hands move to your waist. Freezing at the contact so close to your stomach, you open your mouth to explain, but Deacon removes his hands before you can.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, moving back to give you room.

“Wait, no, Deacon,” you begin aimlessly.

“It’s okay. You want space?”

“No. I don’t want space from you, I- I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. It’s okay.”

Nodding quickly, you force yourself to remember how perfect the plan is. If you want the reveal to be memorable, you must find a way to convince Deacon you are completely fine, normal, even.

“What do you want me to do?” Deacon asks.

Unable to think of an answer quickly, you only succeed in growing more nervous. Terrified that Deacon will believe you’re hiding something much bigger or dangerous to your relationship, your anxiety over the reveal mixes with the uncertainty of what Deacon is thinking.

“Are we- do you trust me?” you whisper.

“Of course.”

“Then can you just give me a few days without asking and then I’ll tell you once I know for sure?”

“So something is happening?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Maybe or you don’t know?”

 Deacon’s voice is soft and kind, without a trace of his usual teasing, and you can’t take his genuine concern for much longer.

“Please stop asking questions. Just for now.”

Deacon nods, his eyes cast down at his wedding ring.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you,” Deacon repeats. “And I do trust you. Sorry if I pushed too much.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When you wake up the following morning, you can feel much more weight on your stomach and chest. Usually, that would indicate Deacon is holding you close; when you open your eyes, he is entirely on his side of the bed, with a person-sized gap between you. Between your fear, nervousness, and the hormones of being pregnant, you don’t even form a thought before you start crying.

Trying to silence your cries, you push your hand over your mouth and shake against your pillow. It isn’t long before Deacon’s hands are on you.

“Sweetheart,” he calls, which only makes you more upset.

You sit up, letting him help you as you look up at him until you are eye-to-eye.

“I didn’t mean to lie to you,” you explain quickly, not thinking before you speak. “I just didn’t want to ruin the surprise and I thought that if you caught on to me being nervous you’d think it was about your birthday present, and part of it is, but you’re also so smart and you know me better than I know myself. So, if you realized that I was pregnant before I got to tell you it would ruin the surprise and your birthday, and I didn’t know how to keep it from you without being scared.”

You take a deep breath, and Deacon smiles brightly as he wipes your tears.

“You’re pregnant?” he asks quietly, cupping your face in his hands.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” you reply before sniffling.

“I can pretend I didn’t.”

“Are you- is that okay?”

“Are you kidding? This is what we’ve wanted since we got married. You’re amazing, sweetheart.”

“Didn’t do it alone,” you mumble.

“Ow,” Deacon breathes out, pulling his hands away. “You burned me.”

You pout, leaning forward until your forehead hits Deacon’s shoulder.

“You’ll pretend to not know?”

“I’ll act surprised,” Deacon counters, dropping his hands to your stomach. “But I can’t promise anything else.”

“Sorry I ruined the surprise.”

“Well it was this or let me think you were falling out of love with me, so I’m not upset.”

“I could never.”

“Tell me again when my hands don’t leave your baby bump,” Deacon teases.

✯✯✯✯✯

When Deacon’s birthday finally arrives, after days of being shy, warm-cheeked putty in his hands, you’re excited for his surprise party. Despite your word vomit incident, you managed to keep it a secret.

“Why are we at SWAT H.Q. on my day off?” Deacon asks, his hands wandering your waist.

“Deac,” you warn. When he pulls his hands back, you answer, “Because I had your gift delivered to Hicks.”

“You didn’t trust me not to open it?”

“No, I did not.”

“Ouch.”

His teasing is cut short when his team jumps out, yelling, “Surprise!” and “Happy Birthday, Deac!”

He smiles at you before thanking everyone. Hicks makes his way to your side, pulling you into a hug as he hands you one of Deacon’s gifts.

“I’ll never know how you managed to keep this a secret,” Hicks muses.

“Me neither,” you agree.

After slicing the cake and giving Deacon his presents, you reveal the one gift you’ve dreamed of giving him since your wedding day: a positive pregnancy test. He, admittedly, does a decent job of acting surprised. But when he sees the ultrasound for the first time, he stops pretending and falls in love with you again.

“Thank you,” Deacon says through his tears, hugging you tightly.

You are then hugged and congratulated by everyone on 20-David and Hicks. Each man makes a short pitch of being the best uncle, and you laugh after all of them.

“Happy birth-week, Deacon. I love you,” you say as you get back in the car.

“I love you, every part of you and the baby you’re making,” Deacon replies, pushing his hand under the hem of your shirt.

“I think you were right… your hands on me all the time may be a dealbreaker.”

“Might I suggest…” Deacon pauses as he kisses you. “remembering that I’m the dad, and your husband, and madly in love with you?”

“I can try as long as you don’t keep doing that.”

[paingoes]

Cuckoo Egg

@echo-goes-aaa: Speaking of uniforms Slave whumpee belongs to a general in the army. As a punishment for being "disrespectful and ungrateful" the general puts him in uniform and sends him out "on mission" to "see what I do for you" Whumpee gets captured by the enemy, and it's only after an interrogation that the enemy realizes something is very very wrong with this soldier...

@sowhumpshaped: sucks to suck! saying this to both whumpee and the enemy. idiots lol also there goes a perfectly good general uniform, ugh. whumper's never getting that back

inspired by this post. i really couldn’t get over how much i loved this prompt, i wrote something out last night! it ran a little long so this is part one of two. i’ll upload the next section soon.

(Content: verbal abuse, implied physical abuse, institutionalized slavery, military content, minor character death, fear, begging, lot of crying, blood)

========================

“I didn’t mean it like-,” The sharp look his master gives him cuts off his speech. Cillian shrinks back in on himself, tucking his chin into his chest protectively.

“Did you iron the flag as I instructed you to? Yes or no?”

“No, sir.” Cillian says through gritted teeth.

“Did you take care to make sure the emblems on the uniforms were in their proper state? Yes or no?”

“No, sir.”

“When you disrespect the symbols of our nation, do you disrespect those who have given their lives so that you may live? Yes or no?”

“No, sir,” Cillian answers automatically. His eyes widen.

“No?” The general asks, danger in his voice.

“Yes, sir.” Cillian corrects himself.

“That’s right. And when I asked you why you had neglected your duties like that, did you accept your failure and apologize? Or did you talk back to me and disrespect me further?” The general stares at him, as if challenging him to argue more.

“I talked back, sir.” Cillian lowers his head in apology. 

The general taps the riding crop against his own leg. Cillian flinches, but it does not strike him immediately. The general bounces it idly, as if caught in deep contemplation. Cillian waits, barely breathing.

“I don’t think you appreciate the sacrifices we make every day for you. You’ve been sheltered all your life. If you spent a day out in that heat, you’d shrivel up. Where is your gratitude, son? Don’t you have any respect?”

Cillian looks down. It’s not a question he’s meant to respond to. He can recognize when he’s being scolded. The general’s voice booms throughout the small space. Small, stinging tears begin to form at the boy’s eyes. The general gives him a disgusted look.

“Maybe you would benefit from a day in the field. Would it stop you from crying your eyes out everytime you get disciplined?”

It is decided for him that quickly. He’s sent immediately to bed, knowing well he’s expected to rise early the following morning. He blinks and the sun is up. 

The general dresses him personally. He is particular about the details. Cillian only catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He has seen the soldiers brought into the manor. They have been large, strapping. Their muscles bulged out from beneath their uniforms, the fabric well-worn and natural looking. On Cillian, the effect is clownish. It hangs off him loosely. His sleeves and pant legs both have to be rolled up and pinned.

His master guides him forward, his hand clamped tightly over Cillian’s shoulder. For better or worse, the encampment is not set up far from their current lodging. Cillian is dropped off without fanfare, rolling out onto the hot sand of the desert.

He falls in line. One of the officers was made to expect him. She retrieves him quickly from the entryway, shuffling him in amongst the other soldiers. He’s noticeably shorter than most of them, just barely meeting the height requirements for enlistment. 

It was only meant to be a day trip. At the same time, she understands the exercise is punitive. She puts him onto one of the offroaders set to leave that morning. It pushes off into the hottest parts of the desert, well past where the gore begins but where it’s unlikely to see any action. There is not much that is required of him. She does not care enough about making a point to endanger her own mission. All he has to do is keep watch. He is not — under any circumstances — to be given a gun.

Cillian shifts uncomfortably in the seat. The leather burns him even through the uniform. The other soldiers there are content to ignore him. He gazes out into the horizon, his eyes catching on the painted rocks that jut out from the sand. The craters in the ground become more and more frequent the further they go. The offroader shakes in protest as it hits another one.

“Whoops,” the driver lets out a laugh, pulling over before the whole thing topples. They’re close enough, anyway. The soldiers pour out. Cillian climbs to the top of the vehicle. The sun beats down on him immediately. His neck quickly burns up. The dark brown of his hair captures the heat. It makes him feel feverish. 

The pack takes off further into the desert and in between the painted rocks. They carry their devices with them; gunpowder, thick coils of wire, shovels. It’s not demolition day today, but it will be when the insurgents next arrive on the scene.

You can imagine their shock when they are already waiting for them. 

They’re dressed in slick black despite the desert heat. Their bikes are tucked safely into the shade of the rocks. Almost thirty of them are pressed against the rock face, all of them armed. Outnumbered two to one, there is no fight.

Cillian isn’t fast enough. Of course he’s not fast enough. He falls quick and hard when they catch him, his hands bound up with zipties before he can even see the face of the man doing it. He does catch a glimpse of the soldiers fleeing. Most die before they reach the threshold. The bag is pulled securely over his head and the last thing he sees is the blood boiling in the sand.

===================

There’s a hand against his face. 

“The fuck? Did you waterboard him or something?” A voice says, feeling the dampness of the fabric.

“No. Crying, probably.”

“That’s hysterical,” The voice says flatly. 

Cillian thrashes as his wrists are yanked back. The knife nicks him. Its wielder curses. The ziptie breaks abruptly, but his hands are pulled in front of him just as quickly. He whimpers as the cold steel bites into his wrists, pinning both his hands to the surface. The hands depart and the door slams shut. It is dark and silent and cold.

He has no way of knowing how much time has passed, but the bag is abruptly yanked from his head. Even the dim light of the room is shocking to him after the hours spent in darkness. He winces. Tear tracks stain his face. His eyes adjust enough to just make out the features of the woman standing in front of him.

Black eyes. Black hair. It falls off her shoulders in sharp edges. Strangely pale skin. Her eyes don’t blink. Her blank expression does not change. She leans against the table, only inches from his face.

“I swear they get younger every year,” She mutters to herself.

“Please let me go,” He sobs. “Please, please.”

It’s like she doesn’t even hear him. Cillian gets the overwhelming urge to hide himself. Her stare seems to go right though him, so much he begins to think she isn’t here for him after all. He’s just in her sightline by mistake. Stupidly, he glances behind him. It’s a blank wall. When he looks back, her expression hasn’t changed. She still hasn’t moved an inch.

She tilts her head as if it’s about to roll off her shoulders.

“What’s your name?” Her affect is flat and cold.

“C-Cillian,” he sniffles.

“Sicilian?” 

“My name is Cillian,” he takes a shaky breath.

“Hello, Cillian. My name is Nicolette.”

Her slowness is agonizing. The silence hangs in the air, interrupted only by Cillian’s little gasps for air. 

“Please let me go,” he repeats, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please.”

It seems like the silence will go on forever. He startles a bit when she is first to break it.

“Cillian, why did you try to bomb us?” She asks.

How could he possibly answer? He panics at the question.

“I didn’t- I’m not-. I’m not with them,” he manages, cut off by his own sobs. 

“Cillian?”

He glances up.

“I don’t like liars.”

She withdraws from the table. Her hand disappears behind her back, appearing just as quickly. She places the dagger gently down on the table. She fixes him with a final look before she withdraws from the room. The door slams shut again. His frightened sobs are still audible even down the hall.

=================

She’s perched above him on the table, rolling the knife between her fingers. She rests her head in her other hand, her eyes narrowed. Cillian sobs, trying to put as much distance between the two of them as he can. The cuffs make it impossible. She’s practically sitting on his hands. 

“Cillian.”

He regrets having given her his name. He flinches at the sound of it.

“Are you going to be good?”

It’s a familiar question. His mouth answers before his brain can catch up.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, I kinda like that,” she says, as if she’s surprised too. He blushes. She doesn’t notice. His face is already flush from crying nonstop. He jumps in alarm as her hand suddenly presses up against his chest.

“No,” he mutters in protest.

She flattens out the insignia on his breast pocket. “E5, sergeant? That’s not bad.”

“It’s just a uniform,” he whines in protest, about to break down again.

“Cillian,” she says in warning, “Enough games. You know what I want.”

“No I don’t!” He protests, “I’m not enlisted, I’m not-“

She cuts him off with a sharp slap. Again, his reaction is involuntary. He curls in on himself.

“I’m sorry,” he says weakly. 

Nicolette withdraws her hand, placing it back in her lap.

“They’re carving out supply tracks along the Eastern Stretch. Why? What’s the target?” 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, absolute misery entering his voice, “I don’t know. I’m not part of it.”

A brief look of frustration crosses her face. He almost misses it. He’s been so trained to anticipate that twinge of annoyance, he reflexively flinches.

Nicolette stops twirling the knife. His breath catches. It’s poised at such an angle that it’d be very easy to just stab him in the chest and end this whole thing. She moves the tip down by his fingers instead. It doesn’t touch, not yet.

“I don’t know,” he curls his hands up into fists, “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, ma’am. I don’t know. Please. Please.”

“You seem like such a nice kid. Why are you making this so hard on yourself?”

“I’m not trying to,” he sniffles, “I’m sorry. I’m annoying you, I know. I’m not trying to.”

“You aren’t annoying me,” Nicolette says. She does not elaborate.

The tears start back up. He doesn’t speak again. Nicolette twirls the knife on the table, its tip making a small dent in the surface.

“You know, in the old days of the war, your men would cut the noses and ears off of ours. When they’d come back to village, we could barely recognize them. They didn’t die from it. Neither did we. They only meant to terrify us. It’s the fear that gets you. It’s always the fear.”

Cillian twists his neck, wiping his face on his shoulder. He shivers.

“I’m sorry,” He says.

“Me too.” She stops twirling the knife, holding it firmly within her fist.

“I’m sorry,” he yelps, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, god, please. Please, I don’t know. If I did I would tell you. Please, please, don’t.”

He jumps back in the seat, his wrists still fastened firmly to the table. Her silence draw on. She doesn’t move. He keeps talking.

“I don’t know, I’m not lying, I promise, I don’t know. Please don’t. I wasn’t even supposed to be here today. I’m not one of them. It’s a mistake.”

“Some mistake,” she says, but she still doesn’t move. His crying is too out of control for him to speak further.

“Do you need more time to think about it?” She asks patiently. 

“No,” he insists, “I don’t know.”

She drives the knife clear through his palm.

(continued here)

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Something There (Chapter 12)

6.8k words

Roy Kent x Reader

Warnings: Language, fluff, references to smutty things, absolute fluffy fluff

Series Masterlist

A/N: This has... taken a while, lol. Honestly, I've been struggling with how to end this, mostly because I don't want to say goodbye to Roy and Bucky! But, all good (or at least halfway decent) things must come to an end. (Plus, I already know there'll be some blurbs featuring these two!) I hope you enjoy, and thanks for coming along for the ride ❤️

“What would you say is your greatest accomplishment?”

Roy nodded towards me and smirked. “Can I answer for her?”

Another “Manager Monday”. Apparently, people liked seeing Roy and me sitting together and answering questions. According to Keeley, the internet referred to us as the “Mum and Dad” of Nelson Road. It was weird and a little flattering, if I was being honest. And, frankly, getting to goof around and not-so-subtly flirt with Roy on camera during work hours was a pretty good deal.

“No, you cannot,” Keeley chuckled. “Go on then, greatest accomplishment.”

“Winning my Olympic Gold Medal,” I answered, elbowing Roy when I heard his good-natured snicker. “It was something my grandpa and I talked about for as long as I can remember. And he did come see me win it. After that, whenever he introduced me to people, it was always, ‘This is my granddaughter. She’s an Olympian.’” I smiled at the memory before turning to Roy. “What’s yours? That year you led the league in red cards?”

Roy’s smile had my heart doing somersaults. “You fucking know it.”

With lots of laughter and poor attempts to hide our flirting, we got through a couple more soccer-related questions before Keeley broached the topic we both knew she was dying to get to.

“So, the internet has been debating between two couple names for you two,” she announced mischievously. “‘Boy’ and ‘Rocky’. Which do you prefer?”

Roy rolled his eyes. “Keeley,” he growled, as I snorted, “We’re not answering that.”

While we were more than happy to let our friends at Nelson Road know about our relationship and annoy them with our PDA, we had agreed not to make any big public show of things- at least not until the season ended. We were enough of a distraction when we were just a few blurry photos the night of the gala; we didn’t want to take away any more media attention from the club, not when our teams were on the verge of something great.

Keeley rolled her eyes. “Fine, fine. But once you two go public, you know better get used to those questions, alright? Because you guys are really fucking cute, and the internet loves you already.”

“We are pretty cute, I’ll give you that,” I chuckled, taking Roy’s hand and smiling at the grumpy coach- my grumpy coach.

In return, he leaned over and pecked my lips gently. “That better not fucking end up online,” he warned Keeley, thick eyebrows raised threateningly.

“We’d break the internet with that little kiss,” she teased, winking at me. “Better be nice to me, or I’m leaking that clip.”

“Careful,” Roy replied with a nod in my direction, affection sparkling in his eyes. “I heard this one’s got a mean right hook.”

~

Roy leaned on the doorframe, enjoying the view. Who would’ve thought that just watching someone put on makeup would make him so fucking happy?

But seeing her standing in front of his bathroom sink and applying that red lipstick had his heart skipping a couple beats. He liked this domestic thing, the sleepovers and the driving to work together and the making dinner and… everything. He wanted more of it, he realized. He wanted more of her. The word was on the tip of his tongue, the word that had been floating around in his head since they got together, since the gala if he was being honest. Maybe even before that, he didn't fucking know. But it was too soon, he knew. Things were already going fast enough and, although she was diving in headfirst just as hard, Roy was still worried about scaring her off.

Her playful eyes met his in the mirror. “Can I help you, Kent?” she teased.

He shrugged and pushed himself off the doorframe so he could stroll over casually. “Just admiring the view.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed a slow kiss to her cheek. “I like when you wear that color.” Another kiss to her temple. “Especially when it ends up on my neck,” he hummed.

“Fuck off,” she chuckled, elbowing him gently. “Come on, let me finish getting ready. Otherwise, you’re going to be late to your game, Coach.”

“Fine,” he growled. “But after the match?”

She whirled around and grabbed his face gently, her eyes bright. “After the match, I promise my lipstick will be all over your neck.” She pressed her body close to his. “And maybe some other particular places.” Her red lips formed that smirk he loved, the one he couldn’t believe he used to find annoying. “But only if you win.”

Roy grinned, eyebrows raised at her appealing offer. “Well, lucky for me I’m the manager of a winning team.”

“That is lucky,” she purred, nudging her nose against his. “Now then, can I go put on my new Greyhounds kit?”

His grin widened. “You got a fucking Greyhounds kit?”

She shrugged. “Of course. I’m part of Richmond. I like the fellas. And I’m pretty obsessed with their pain in the ass manager.” She smiled. “It’s about time I start rocking some Greyhound gear.”

Roy’s heart was soaring. He loved wearing her name and number on his back, even if it made their relationship obvious to anyone who was paying even an ounce of attention. And he’d be lying his ass off if he said he hadn’t pictured what she’d look like wearing his name on a kit. Granted, some of those pictures in his head were in his bed rather than at a match, but still. What a fucking dream come true.

“Alright,” he sighed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Hurry up then, Coach.”

Roy probably would have skipped to the living room if it weren’t for this shit knee. With no one around, he didn’t bother hiding his stupid grin, the one he found himself wearing quite often these days. The internet had gone a bit wild with images of him wearing her name on his Whippets kit; he could only imagine the silly little fan edits and TikToks that would surely follow this match.

“What d’you think?”

Roy’s old man heart nearly stopped in his chest. The bright red and blue material hugged her figure perfectly, tempting him to rip it off of her and forget all about his match. The little Greyhound logo settled beautifully over her heart, just like the Whippets manager had weaseled her way into his. He was officially obsessed with the picture in front of him, he decided.

“Fucking perfect,” he hummed. He twirled his finger in a circle, eyebrows raised. He just needed to see one more thing. “Give us a spin, then.”

Her grin widened as she turned around, something mischievous in her eyes. Roy sat up a little straighter, unashamed to be so obviously excited to see-

“Does that fucking say Tartt?” he spat, pure disgust smeared across his bearded face.

Her laughter rang in his ears, almost magical enough to make him forget about this absolute betrayal. He narrowed his eyes at her as she turned back around, shameless amusement on her face. “What’s the matter, Roy?” she teased as she made her way over to where he slumped on the couch. “Don’t you think I look good?”

He reached out and tugged her onto his lap, doing his best to keep his stern expression. “I think,” he growled against her shoulder, pawing at the material, “that you need to take that fucking thing off.”

With a giggle, she grabbed his wrist and looked at his watch, reminding Roy of the night of the gala- their very first night. “Ah, no time to change, I’m afraid.” She pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, careful not to leave any lipstick on his face. “Let’s go, Kent.”

Still grumbling and growling, Roy allowed himself to be pulled off the couch and dragged out of the house. When she wasn’t looking, he shook his head and smiled softly at her. Even with such a stupid name on her back, Roy still thought that seeing her in a Greyhounds kit was his new favorite sight.

He just couldn’t wait to rip the damn thing off of her.

~

“Let’s fucking go, Greyhounds!” I screeched, ignoring the way Keeley covered her ears.

After everything that had happened this season, both on and off the field, it was hard to believe it was coming to an end. Tonight, the Greyhounds were only one victory away winning the Premier League. And, after weeks of wearing Jamie’s name and other players’ names on my back just to mess with Roy (and the internet), I was proudly wearing his name and our number on my Greyhounds sweatshirt.

Keeley leaned close and held out her phone. “You’re already trending,” she teased, showing off a blurry photo of Roy and me entering the stadium, with me wearing Roy’s name and my signature red lipstick as I smiled up at the Greyhound manager. “And so is this.” There was Jamie Tartt, entering the stadium, wearing a fanny pack and, as usual, a hat. Unlike usual, this hat didn’t say “ICON”; instead, it proudly proclaimed “ROCKY”.

I rolled my eyes as the guys took their places on the field. “Is that a reference to that stupid ‘couple name’ thing?” I groaned. “Because you’re all supposed to be helping us keep quiet, you know.”

The sly way Keeley narrowed her eyes had me almost squirming. “Yeah. Because the way you two act during Manager Mondays and wearing each other’s kits is really discreet.” Suddenly, her suspicious expression turned somber, giving me a new urge to fidget. “How’s it all going by the way? You and him? The two of you seem pretty damn happy these days.”

“We are,” I assured her, not bothering to stop my wide smile from filling my face. “He’s… well, you know how he is.” I gave a soft chuckle as I looked down to the pitch and watched Roy lean over to say something to Coach Beard. Perfect, I decided. That was how Roy was; perfect. From the way he stood during games, shoulders squared and all business, to the way he always stole a quick kiss when our paths crossed at work, to the way his strong hands tenderly adored me in bed, to the lazy afternoons on his couch, to the phone calls and texts that flooded my phone whenever we were apart, to the way he made me laugh and smile in between all those moments. Roy Kent was fucking perfect. “He’s Roy.”

Keeley’s voice brought me out of my thoughts. “I do know how he is,” she said carefully. The little clearing of her throat had me turning my eyes to her. Her eyebrows knitted together, as if she thought I would slug her at any moment. “And I hope this isn’t totally inappropriate, but we were talking last week- and he was saying he’s so fucking happy,” she quickly added, probably seeing my slowly raising eyebrows. “He’s just worried about being… clingy?”

I couldn’t help but laugh at how completely apprehensive my friend looked. “Oh, Roy’s clingy as fuck,” I said. “But I like it.” I shrugged, my eyes returning to the gruff man on the pitch that had weaseled his way into my heart. “I… I’m clingy too,” I admitted. “I think that’s why we work, actually. We’re both pretty intense people, we both do everything at full speed, you know? So, one person’s idea of ‘too clingy’ is my idea of ‘absolutely fucking perfect’.”

The smile on Keeley’s face was filled with joy and a bit of relief. “I’m so happy to hear that,” she said, grabbing my hand and intertwining our fingers. “Really. He deserves the best and you-” She smacked a kiss to my cheek. “-are the fucking best, babes.”

~

The tips of Roy’s fingers tingled as he stared down Jamie, who was making a mad dash towards their opponent’s goal. There were only moments left before stoppage time ended in a tie and the match inevitably went to extra time, which had been a dangerous place for the Greyhounds all season long. If Jamie couldn’t beat both the clock and goalkeeper, it felt like their season would end in defeat. And Roy couldn’t have that. Not this season. Not when everything seemed to be ending so well, on and off the pitch.

Only one defender stood between Jamie and the goal. Roy held his breath as he watched Jamie move this way and that, doing a maneuver he knew Tartt hadn’t learned from any of the coaches on the pitch; he’d learned this particular move from the Whippets. And he’d apparently learned it well, because suddenly Jamie was in front of the goal, kicking the ball and-

“JAMIE TARTT SCORES!”

Less than a moment later, the familiar sound of the referee’s whistle had all of Nelson Road in pure pandemonium. Roy sprinted onto the field, not caring about his stupid knee, and was instantly swallowed by the swarm of blue that was his team. He grabbed and hugged whoever was close by, not caring to see anything other than their wide eyes and wider smiles. He wondered ever so briefly if anything in his career would ever live up to this moment; he knew nothing before ever had. And, if he was being quite honest, he could live with this being the happiest moment of his career.

He was hugging Jamie tight, mumbling something about being fucking proud of the prick, when he heard some of his players call his name in teasing voices. He knew those tones; he’d been hearing them a lot lately, caused by one thing- well, one person- every fucking time.

Sure enough, when Roy glanced over his shoulder, the sight made his smile grow.

There she was, clad in her Greyhounds sweater, running at him. He knew she’d regret this run in the morning- they’d probably spend the whole next day icing ankles and knees- but she didn’t look like she cared. In fact, she looked like she didn’t care about anything other than Roy.

She threw herself into his arms and let him envelop her in a tight hug, one far too tight for two platonic managers to share.

“I’m proud of you,” she huffed into the crook of his neck. “So fucking proud, Roy.”

He released her slightly so she could gaze up at him, her eyes full of adoration and joy. Deep in his chest, Roy held a hope that she would stare at him like this for the rest of their lives. “Fucking come here,” he murmured, his hands leaving her hips to cup her face.

At some point over the season, Roy had lost count of how many times he’d kissed this woman. There were some kisses that were irrevocably stamped on his heart- their first kiss while sitting on his couch listening to Sam Cooke, the kiss in the rain after he’d given her the Team USA football, the sweet kiss they’d shared after he asked her to be his girlfriend- but this was probably his favorite so far. It was soft and slow, and it made the roar of the crowd go silent in Roy’s mind. He knew there was no going back from this; there would be photos of this kiss in the papers, and he’d definitely be asked about it in the post-match press conference. They’d once again be the subject of rumors and speculation, with Twitter users trying to put together a timeline and reanalyzing every little interaction they’d had over these last few months. It was going to be pure fucking hell.

But thankfully, his own personal heaven was in his arms.

When they parted, she wore a wide grin, the kind that made his heart skip a beat. “Congrats on the win, Coach,” she chuckled as she ruffled his hair. “Can’t believe you guys beat us to it.” She kissed his lips effortlessly, as if she kissed him on the pitch every day. “Whatever happened to ladies first?”

Roy shook his head and tightened his grip on her. “Just means the Whippets get to be the grand finale.”

“Grand finale,” she repeated, giving his jacket a tug to pull him back to herself. “I like the sound of that, Kent.”

Roy could’ve stayed on that pitch forever, holding her and kissing her, finally able to show everyone how he felt about her and how she miraculously felt about him. The feeling of winning the whole fucking thing, and having his girl in his arms, and hearing his team shout and celebrate, it was intoxicating as hell.

But, as Keeley reminded him with a giggle, there was pomp and circumstance to get through.

His whole body shook with excitement as he stood by Rebecca’s side and received the trophy. In the smiling crowd, he locked gazes with those familiar eyes. Could his smile get any bigger? he wondered. Surely that would be the morning headline: Richmond’s Roy Kent finally knows how to smile. And damn, if it wasn’t something he wanted to keep doing.

Once things began to die down on the pitch, Keeley began herding him towards the press conference he still had to do before celebrating with the team. He kept an arm wrapped around the Whippet’s manager as he finally made his way through the halls, to the familiar door that led to the press room. He paused in front of it, thinking about all the less-than-stellar moments he’d had in there. Announcing his retirement. Watching Jamie have a meltdown. Throwing a chair at George fucking Willows after being asked about Keeley. Being asked intrusive questions about his love life and the drama of this season. Some crappy things happened in that room, he admitted to himself.

But today? Today he walked in with his head held high; for the first time in a long time, Roy Kent felt nothing but good about himself and his life. His team was officially the best in the Premier League, and he had the girl of his dreams to kiss after the match. He allowed himself a smile as he settled in front of the cameras, enjoying the surprise on the reporters’ faces when they caught sight of his expression. In the back of the room, Keeley gave him a thumbs up before wrapping her arm around the Whippets’ manager, who shot him a wink that had his stupid grin widening.

Yeah. This might be the best fucking day of his whole fucking life.

The clamoring began before he even sat down. Roy rolled his eyes, albeit good-naturedly for once, and pointed to a familiar face, a reporter he didn’t fully hate. “Yeah?”

“Coach Kent, how does it feel to lead the Greyhounds to do the impossible?”

Roy leaned into his seat, determined to at least look relaxed. “Feels fucking great,” he said. “And I’m going to ignore that ‘impossible’ thing.” He smirked at the tittering from the reporters. “Because honestly, this team is fucking incredible. And anyone who thought this was ‘impossible’ for those lads hasn’t been paying attention.” After answering a few questions about the season and the match, he could see the journalists beginning to get restless. It was clear what they would be asking next. He pointed to another raised hand. “You.”

“A certain coach had an… interesting way of congratulating you,” the reporter asked in a timid voice. “Anything to say about that?”

For a moment, he glanced to the back of the room. Not to Keeley, like he usually did during these things, but to the pair of eyes that gazed back with a beautiful mixture of adoration and teasing. Another wink encouraged him to lean forward on his elbows and ignore the heat rising in his cheeks. “There’s a lot I can say about that,” he chuckled. “But, all I will say is this-” He looked directly at those bright eyes. “-I’m fucking mad about that woman. She seems to think I’m alright, which is nice. And she continues to be one of the most impressive managers I’ve had the honor of watching on the pitch. And I am looking forward to seeing her and the Whippets kick some serious ass next weekend.”

More questions were hurled at him, mostly excited and kind ones, but Roy didn’t really hear them. He was too focused on trying not to simply sit and stare at that pretty face that smiled at him and made him feel like he’d won more than the Premier League.

~

I pulled my dark blue blazer on and turned to get a good look at myself in the mirror. Dark blue blazer, white blouse, best jeans, hair up in a ponytail, red lipstick applied, necklace my grandfather had given me around my neck. This was it, I decided. This was the outfit of a Women’s Super League-winning coach.

“You look fucking amazing.” A pair of strong arms wrapped around me as a scruffy kiss smacked my cheek. “Like a fucking winner.” Roy smirked at me in the mirror. He looked damn good in his white Whippets kit, the number six on his back and something that kind of looked like love in his eyes. If my entire season wasn’t on the line, I’d be debating ripping off that jersey and throwing Roy onto the bed. “Gonna wear your gold medal?” he teased.

With an eyeroll, I slipped out of his grasp and sat on my bed. “Just toss me my sneakers, Kent.”

Roy raised an eyebrow as he moved towards my familiar Converse that sat perfectly next to the closet. “Wow, I get to touch the Match Day shoes? What an honor.”

“Yeah,” I chuckled as I took the shoes from him and tugged them on. “I’m hoping your luck from last weekend rubs off on me and the Whippets.” I knew that underneath my joking tone, he could hear my nerves. Roy always seemed to know what was going on beneath the surface.

Sure enough, he sat down next to me and took my hand. “Oi.” His voice was as soft as his gaze. “You’re going to be fucking brilliant.” He kissed my forehead. “Your team is incredible. You are incredible. You’re Coach Bucky. World Cup winner, Olympic champion, NWSL Coach of the Year.” He shook his head as he rattled off my résumé with a smile on his face. “You’ve fucking got this.”

“I know.”

He raised his thick eyebrows at me expectantly. “But?”

“But…” I sighed heavily and let my head fall against his shoulder. “There’s just so much pressure,” I murmured. “It’s our first season. And with all of my personal drama…” I closed my eyes. “I have to win. I have to show that I’m a fucking winner. If I don’t, I’ll forever be that slutty American who slept with Roy freaking Kent.”

He gave me a light shove. “Oi, I thought you liked sleeping with Roy Kent.”

“Roy,” I huffed. “I’m being serious. I need to win today. I have to prove that I deserve to be taken seriously. Everything I’ve built this year is on the line. If we don’t do this, I don’t know-”

“Babe.” Roy shifted and lifted my legs until they draped over his lap. His arms felt like a warm blanket as they wrapped around my waist and tugged me close. “You don’t have to prove shit to anyone. You’re lightyears better at this job than I am-” A snort slipped out of my nose. “-and everyone knows it, no matter what happens today. You are brilliant and accomplished. And if it’s not this year, it’ll be next year.” He gave me a squeeze. “But I believe in you. Your team believes in you. Rebecca and Keeley and all the Greyhounds believe in you. Fuck what anyone else says.” He kissed my forehead, lingering for a moment. “You can always just punch them anyways.”

Fucking Roy, making me laugh and forget my anxiety. As I smiled through my nerves and kissed his mouth, probably smudging my lipstick, all I could think was how badly I wanted him to make me laugh for the rest of my fucking life.

~

The feeling of pride in Roy’s chest was unlike anything he’d ever felt in his life. The energy of the stadium vibrated through his whole body, and he couldn’t help the lump in his throat when he saw how absolutely packed the place was. He walked confidently into the owners’ box holding Phoebe’s hand tight. He smiled down at his bouncing niece, with her bright eyes and her own Bucky kit. She was talking a million miles a minute, reminding him of Keeley, chattering all about how well she knew the Whippets would do and asking if Roy was really going to take her onto the pitch after the match if the Whippets won. Her yammering only stopped so she could give Keeley a hug and take her seat next to the blonde.

“Ready to see your girl in action?” Keeley teased over Phoebe’s head as Roy took his seat.

His broad smile would have been enough of an answer. “She’s gonna be so fucking brilliant,” Roy laughed. “I can fucking feel it.” He narrowed his eyes at Phoebe’s expectant face. “Add it to my tab,” he grumbled.

To his surprise, Phoebe shook her head. “You get a free pass today, Uncle Roy,” she informed him earnestly. “It’s a very big day for Bucky and you’re probably very stressed.” She nodded, her demeanor comically matter of fact. “So, I’ll let it slide. Just for today.”

“Thanks, Pheebs,” he chuckled, kissing the top of her head. He nodded to Rebecca as she took her spot on Keeley’s other side. “Boss,” he greeted with a salute.

“Coach Kent,” she replied, a sparkle in her eye as she saluted back. “Beautiful night for a game, hmm?” Despite her calm tone, Roy could see the way her fingers drummed on her lap nervously.

He smirked at her. “Ready to be the owner of two winning teams?”

She shook her head, holding back a laugh. “Not thinking about it,” she announced firmly. “I am just going to enjoy the match, cheer for our girls, and feel proud of them no matter what.”

Keeley, Roy, and Pheobe all just stared at her until a smile broke out across her face.

“Alright, yes, I’m fucking ready!” She turned her attention to the field, where the Whippets were beginning to line up. “Let’s go, Whippets!”

The quartet were joined in the box by Beard and Nate and Jamie, who looked quite comfortable wearing Kira Malone’s name on his back. There were deafening cheers all around as the Whippets were introduced. Roy’s whole body felt warm as he bellowed their names; even without being head over heels for their manager, Roy would feel beyond proud of these women. He’d watched them work all season long, through sweat and injuries and fatigue and the harsh media. And they’d done it all with smiles on their faces and their heads held high. They were impressive and inspiring, and Roy already knew they would win that trophy.

And they had ninety minutes to do it.

After the players were introduced, the Whippets’ coaches stepped forward to shake hands with the opposing coaching staff.  Of course, every eye in the owners’ box turned to Roy with mischievous smirks on their faces.

Not that Roy noticed. He was too busy jumping to his feet so he could cup his hands around his mouth and bellow, “Let’s fucking go, Buck!”

With that colossal voice of his, no one was surprised to see the manager look up in their direction. Her red-lipped smile was clear as day, and they all oohed teasingly when they saw her blow a kiss up towards them.

“Obviously that was for me,” Jamie joked, turning around and winking at his manager.

“Fuck off,” Roy chuckled as he resumed his seat. He gave the striker a light shove before turning his attention back to the pitch. Fuck, how was he supposed to focus on the match that was starting when she was down there, looking strong and confident and powerful- not to mention gorgeous. His heart hammered in his chest as he watched her in her element, shouting excitedly at her team and reaching out for Luke’s hand every now and then. Some part of him wanted to watch her forever; the other part of him couldn’t wait for the ninety minutes to end so he could wrap his arms around her and celebrate her victory.

A stray piece of popcorn smacked him in the temple and diverted his attention.

Keeley shot him that shit-eating grin and tossed a fresh piece of popcorn into her mouth. “You’re drooling, Roy-o.”

He narrowed his eyes at her and reached over Phoebe’s lap to steal a handful of Keeley’s popcorn. “Yeah, yeah,” was all he could manage. He smiled down at Pheobe, whose attention was rapt with the match in front of her. “Having fun?” he asked loudly, amused to find that her trance was just as intense as the one he’d just been in.

All the little blonde could do was nod, mouth slightly agape, as she watched the Whippets score their first goal of the match. The entire stadium was on their feet, deafening with their shouts and cheers as the players embraced. But of course, the only thing Roy could see was their manager and the way she looked up at the owners’ box, right at him.

~

Lucas was holding my hand so tight he was going to cause permanent damage to my blood circulation. Not that I cared; we had succeeded in keeping the game tied 2-2 all through stoppage time, and now Amanada Camacho had managed to secure a penalty kick. With my free hand, I gripped my necklace tightly, as if the little gold charm would somehow direct Amanda’s kick into the right direction.

The forward made her move, running towards the ball, and gave a powerful kick-

That sailed perfectly into the corner of the goal, out of the goalie’s reach.

In unison, Lucas and I let out sharp screams and crashed into each other’s arms, trading kisses on cheeks and foreheads. When the referee blew her whistle, we sprinted onto the field, greeting our mob of Whippets in a pile of hugs that evolved into a mountain of players and staff tumbling over each other. It was loud and chaotic- and beautiful. Somewhere in the reveling, tears had formed in my eyes, but they didn’t fall until I found myself face to face with Rebecca’s glowing smile and own teary eyes.

“Well done,” she said simply, wrapping me in a tight hug. “Well fucking done.”

I melted into her embrace- fuck, how was this woman so perfect that even her hugs were the best?- and finally let the tears fall. “Thank you for believing in me,” was all I could manage.

She shook her head. “That’s just the Richmond way,” she chuckled as Keeley approached us.

The blonde wrapped us both into a group hug, chattering about how brilliant the girls had been, how brilliant I had been, how we were going to have the biggest celebration ever once we left the stadium, how I’d better have brought a change of clothes like she’d instructed me so we could party properly.

But her excitement was drowned out by my beating heart when I caught sight of a pair of beautiful brown eyes sparkling at me.

“Kent!” I shrieked, breaking free of my bosses’ warm embraces. I sprinted towards him, this time under stadium lights and falling confetti rather than pouring rain, and launched myself into his arms. He caught me with ease, lifting me and letting me wrap my legs around him. With a couple of first place finishes under our belts, we were finally free to be as publicly insufferable as we wanted- which I planned on taking full advantage of. I figured a dramatic kiss on the pitch was a good start, and Roy seemed to agree as he attached his lips to mine hungrily.

“So. Fucking,” he huffed into my mouth between kisses, “Proud.” He held me tighter, pressing my chest harshly to his. “You’re amazing.”

I finally removed myself from the kiss so I could bury my burning hot face in his shoulder. He let me plant my feet back on the ground, but kept his arms firmly around me. “Roy,” I murmured, realizing I had something important to tell him. “I-”

“Bucky!” Phoebe jumped onto my back, nearly knocking me over.

“Pheebs!” I laughed, turning away from Roy so I could hug his niece. “I’m so glad you came,” I gushed. “Your team wins a championship next, right?” When I glanced up at Roy over Phoebe’s head, he was already gazing at me, something soft on his face. He’d been doing that a lot lately, I realized as I returned his smile. This gentle stare that held something significant, something I felt sure one of us would break down and say soon. Something I’d wanted to say since I first ran out in the rain to him.

But I didn’t have time to think about that. Not when my team was calling for me to join them to be crowned the Women’s League champions and hoist the trophy in the air and beam with pride as cameras flashed in our faces.

I was still beaming as I held Roy’s hand in the club the Greyhounds and Whippets took over to celebrate both of our victories; Rebecca was something of a blubbering mess as she took the microphone early in the night and thanked both clubs for their hard work, thanked our coaching staffs for surviving the wild ride that had been our season (Beard raised his eyebrows in our direction, clearly remembering being frustrated enough to lock us in a shed), and above all thanked Keeley for being her partner in the adventure of establishing what she knew would be a great legacy of women’s football in Richmond.

By the time Rebecca finished and called me up to make my own speech, I was close to joining Rebecca in her tears; unfortunately, I knew I wouldn’t look as graceful as she did once my waterworks began flowing. So instead, I focused on smiling as I kissed her cheek and took the accepted the microphone from her.

“How’re we feeling, Richmond?” I was answered with cheers and shouts from our teams and their loved ones. “I’ll try to keep this brief so we can get back to partying- although my Whippets probably already know I’m not as capable of brevity as the Greyhounds say Coach Kent is.” The mere mention of Roy’s name provoked catcalls and wolf whistles from both squads. “Calm down,” I laughed, shaking my head when I caught Roy’s not-really-annoyed eyeroll aimed at Jamie. “I just want to say thank you,” I continued once the commotion subsided. “Thank you to the Whippets, for all of your incredible work and dedication. I think we made it clear to the Women’s Super League and all of England that W.F.C. Richmond has arrived.” Cheers again filled the club, as well as my heart. “Thank you to our fearless leaders Keeley and Rebecca, for believing in us every step of the way.” Keeley’s little bow alongside Rebecca’s refined wave had me giggling into the microphone. “A special thanks to our dear Greyhounds. It was an adjustment learning to work together-” Coach Beard’s exaggerated groan could be heard loudly over everyone else’s teasing hums. “-but we managed.” I shot Roy a wink that was returned with a blown kiss. “And, personally, more than anyone else I have to thank my right-hand man.” My eyes found Lucas’s. “Luke,” I sighed. “You formed me into the player I was so proud to be. You mentored me into the coach I’ve become. You were insane enough to follow me here for this adventure, you held my hand during every scary moment and picked me up every time I fell. We came here for greatness-” I shrugged, gesturing to the assembled group of champion athletes. “- and I think we fucking found it.” Both teams hollered in agreement, but still managed to hear my last few words: “Richmond on three! One, two, three-”

“RICHMOND!”

In a blur of cheers and hugs and kisses, I finally found myself back in Roy’s embrace, accepting the chaste kiss he pressed to my lips.

“Wanna sneak off for a moment?” he hummed in my ear. “After that, I need to give you a proper kiss. And if I do that here, I think Beard might actually be fucking ill.”

I leaned into his touch. “Can’t have that,” I teased back.

We wandered away from the bar, ignoring the eyerolls from our friends when they caught sight of our lovesick expressions. We had warned them early on; they were going to miss the days of our screaming matches and insults. These days, instead of walking in on arguments, they walked in on make out sessions. Jamie had more than a few times accused us of trying to make him go blind. Even Keeley grimaced when I asked if she wanted to continue Manager Mondays next season, clearly regretting asking us to be more affectionate once we were public.

All season everyone bitched at us about getting along. We were only giving the people what they wanted.

Roy clearly knew what he wanted when he found a dark, isolated corner where he could press my back against a column that hid us from view. His mouth melded with mine as his hands lazily stroked up and down my sides. I sighed against his kiss and snaked my arms around his neck, pulling him flush against me. My mind was filled with thoughts of the weeks ahead of us; sure, we’d have a shit ton of press, but once the circus was over, this was all I wanted to worry about. We’d floated the idea of going on some fabulous vacation together, turning our phones off and isolating ourselves in a little bubble of sex and food and laughter. I’d told Roy we could settle plans once the seasons were ended, which he had seemed thrilled about. Or at least as thrilled as Roy could manage. But as I kissed him harshly and melted in his arms, I briefly considered that spending our entire break locked in his house with nothing but takeout, movies, and his bed sounded just as good as whatever destination he had in mind.

Still, we’d worked hard and gone through a lot; we deserved a damn vacation.

“You’re fucking incredible,” he mumbled as he began to wander down my neck. “Seeing you on the pitch today… and up there with your speech…” He groaned softly and pressed a slow kiss to my collarbone. “Don’t think I’ve ever loved you more than I do right now.”

My grip on him tightened as my body tensed up. Not bothering to hide my wide smile, I tugged at him until his face was inches away from mine. “You love me?”

His smile was sloppy and bashful, my favorite sight. “Fucking ’course I do,” he murmured as he brushed some hair out of my face. “You’re something special, you know that? I think I’ve loved you since that moment in the shed at the fucking retreat, hearing you say we were both going to win the whole fucking thing. Called it ‘fairy tale shit’.” He touched his nose to mine. “This right here, this is some fairy tale shit.”

“It is,” I breathed before closing the space between your mouths, pulling Roy into a tender kiss. Before I could deepen it into something a bit harsher, he pulled back, eyebrow quirked playfully. “What?” I chuckled.

“I love you,” he whispered, raising both eyebrows now.

I nodded, trying to hide the grin that was growing on my face. “So I heard.”

He rolled his eyes and took my face in his hands. “Anything you care to say to me, Coach Buck?”

He knew. Of course he fucking knew. He knew from the way I kissed him and the way I looked at him and the way I held him close whenever I could. He knew from the way we made love at night and made breakfast together in the morning. He knew from the way our fingertips brushed when we passed each other at work. He knew from the million little things we shared every day.

But sometimes, a fella needs to hear the words.

“Fine,” I huffed, all faux exasperation as I tugged his face back towards mine. “I guess I love you too.”

Taglist: @optimisticsandwichgladiator@reading-blogs@callmecasey81@ladygrey03@puckyou-forpuckssake@royalestrellas@shineforever19@rae4725@burnafter-reading@her-fandom-sanctum@infinetlyforgotten@giggling-sewer-ginger@whataloadofmalarkey@agentstarkid@kingleahhh@tortilla-maria1@geekgirl1996@amatswimming@meg-ro@spicyraccoonlordking@spaghetti-dad187@needlesthreadandbuttons@elissaaa@imsoluckyeverythingworksoutforme@reverieisaway@djskakakaksjsj-blog@thatonedogwithablog@allthetroubleiveseen@sunderland-6@netflix-addict@paranormal-is-my-life@jill2629-blog@itsbuzzfeedbitch@pretzelactivist@amieinghigh@kashee-h@beingalive1@mythicalbinicorn@needyomega@kno-way-home@janalustare@sssatorus@its-a-rich-mans-world@confessionsofatotaldramaslut@hesitant-alien33@katie-sheep-111@bonesbonesetc@seacactusplant@thebookwormlife @dreamscape22 @rae4725@timelordhunterandmysterysolver@littleesilvia@anonurs@itswhateveripromise@chewymoustachio @gcidrvsh @katdahlali @ohwauwdoritos @lemoonandlestars @perfectwhispersvoid@seatbacksandtraytables@kingleahhh@maackiimoo @isuspectitwasthenargles @bannsshheeebiittcchhhh @charkachow @gcstnml @queen-of-the-downtown-scene

[shadowkoo]

A Sweet Mistake

→ Summary: Your boyfriend texts you something rather surprising that sends you spiraling through past memories.

↠ yeosang x f.reader | 1.1k words | 18+ ↠ genre: smut, angst, meet ugly au, (there’s also a dash of fluff bc why not)

→ Prompts: #32. “I dare you.” + #48. Sometimes you question how everything could have turned out if that day had gone differently.

→ Warnings: getting dumped via text, praise, being called a good girl (bc you are duh), talking on the phone while being fingered, Yeosang is kinda depicted as an dumb asshole but you’ll forgive me (and him) by the end lol

→ Author Note: Thank you for requesting @anyamaris I hope you enjoy! Learn more about my mini requests here. As always, all likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated <3

Your phone dings, drawing your attention away from the book you’ve been devouring for the last hour. You blink several times before staring at the text you just received in total disbelief.

[ From Y♡ at 3:15 PM ]

‘I think we should break up’

A few seconds later another message pops up.

‘I’m sorry’

Your heart races as you reread both. He can’t be serious. No way. After how you spent all evening together? The fresh memory floods your mind…

- Flashback begins -

Yeosang smirks as his fingers curl inside you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Wait, wait!” you rush as you reach for your ringing phone, “That’s my boss's ringtone.”

“Go on, answer it.” His eyes flare, “I dare you.”

You’re not one to back down from a challenge, so you do. And at that very same moment, his lips find their way around your already sensitive clit.

“H-Hello,” you answer shakily, “Yes Ma’am, your schedule? It’s been confirmed and emailed to you. Uh-huh. Yes, okay. Will do.” You answer your boss's questions quickly and silence your moans with a hand over your mouth as she rambles on about flights for her upcoming trip.

Your breath catches in your throat as the heat grows hotter in your lower belly, you’re almost there.

Yeosang groans as your walls begin to tighten around his fingers. “God, you’re perfect,” he whispers before licking you right where you need him. “Let go for me, baby.”

“I’ll look into it and get back to you!” you rush out, quickly hanging up before she’s suspicious, and come undone onto your boyfriend's fingers and mouth, leaving behind a soft sheen of your release.

“That’s my good girl. I love you.”

- Flashback ends -

And that was just the start of the night. So what changed between then and now? He suddenly doesn’t love you anymore?

That thought sends a sharp pain directly to your chest and tears well in your eyes while you type a message back to him.

[ Sent at 3:30 PM ]

‘Why??? What’s going on?’

[ From Y♡ at 3:31 PM ]

‘I just think it’s for the best…’

‘I’ll come by your place later to pick up my things.’

So his mind is already made up. It’s a good thing that your workday is almost over. You need to go home and cry. Maybe you’ll doordash some dinner and ice cream too. You certainly deserve it.

The ride home on the train is quick, and thankfully no one pays any attention to you as tears fall silently. And before you know it, you’re staring at a box half full of things that belong to Yeosang.

Your fingers play with the bracelet around your wrist, the one he bought you for your three-month anniversary. Its charms are a sun, strawberry, and pie slice, all of which are a small reminder of the day you first met.

- Second flashback begins -

The soft spring sunshine tickles your skin as you walk to the train station in the mid-morning light. The birds are singing, flowers are blooming, and it seems like it’s going to be a good day.

You smile. Not just a good day, a great day.

All of those happy thoughts come quickly crashing down when something from above smacks onto your head, easily knocking you down to the ground.

You gasp after the sudden impact. “Ow. What the fuck?” Your fingers reach up and touch something gooey that’s now covering your hair and face. “Ew.”

“Oh my god! Are you okay?” a stranger asks, kneeling down beside you to help. “Here, I’ve got a couple of napkins in my pocket. Let me help you.”

“What is it? Why is it warm and sticky?!” you panic, not sure exactly what to do in this situation.

“It seems to be a type of dessert? A strawberry pie, perhaps?”

“You’re kidding,” you groan. “So someone decided to just throw a pie out a window? The universe hates me.”

The kind stranger laughs, “Or maybe the universe thought you could use a little more sweetness in your life?”

“Unlikely, but thanks,” you say, using one of the napkins he handed you to wipe your eyes clean. You can see better now, he’s a cute stranger - if you have to be totally honest. Of course you would meet someone attractive in a ridiculous way like this. It’s just your luck.

You lick your lips, it’s tasty at least. “What a waste of good pie.”

“I can’t believe it landed directly on your head. I watch the whole thing happen in slow motion,” he says, struggling to hold back another laugh. “I’m Yeosang. Normally I don’t laugh at pretty girls who almost get knocked out by flying desserts, so my apologies.”

“Apology accepted. I’m Y/N, normally I don’t smell like I came directly out of a strawberry bake off but here we are.”

- Second flashback ends -

And that was the beginning of it all.

Sometimes you question how everything could have turned out if that day had gone differently. For instance, if you would have been slightly late to leave for work you wouldn’t be sobbing while packing up his things right now. Which is the last thing you thought you would be doing after falling so easily for him.

But you’ve never been one to beg for someone to stay. You’ve always said, if they wanna leave, let them.

‘He’s worth fighting for.’ The voice in your head practically screams at you. ‘Don’t give up so easily.’

Your doorbell chimes, breaking your thoughts and letting you know that he’s here. He has a key, which is how he normally lets himself in, but you guess things are different now.

You take a deep breath before opening the door, not sure what to expect exactly.

“Hi,” he smiles nervously and looks down at his hands which are holding…flowers? “Can we pretend the last four hours didn’t happen? I had a momentary freak-out and realized that texting you about breaking up was a mistake.”

“What?” your brows furrow in confusion.

“I still want to be with you. It just kind of hit me earlier how much I love you and I can’t imagine you not being in my life. But everyone leaves me at some point, and to make it hurt less I thought that by breaking up with you, it would make a future difficult thing less painful in the present.”

“Well,” you ask, crossing your arms. “Did it work?”

“No, I’m an idiot.”

“That may be true, but I love you anyway.” You hug him tightly and let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Next time you want to run because you’re scared, just remember that I will always love you, even when you make mistakes - like believing that I’m going to leave you.”

“Well, that’s good to know. I’m still sorry.”

“Good. You should be.”

©shadowkoo 2024. All rights reserved.

[writing-whump]

Inspired by your answer to my last question could you write a fic where Isaiah is like feeling really bad (maybe a really high fever that makes him delirious) with hector as the caretaker taker and he accidentally calls him mom?

If you feel like this doesn’t fit currently in the timeline I’ll wait.

And if you don’t want to write it no hard feelings.

Way too sick

Isaiah sick with a raging fever part 2. Hector as main caretaker. This was such a great prompt, I loved it on the first sight! Just needed to get to a good point, lol.

Isaiah was dizzy.

Everything was twirling, the bathroom tiles creating a nauseating colourful collage.

His stomach wasn't just cramping. No, there were pauses between cramps. This was more like switching between more painful teeth grinding cramps, those that forced up more stomach acid up his throat and those that just made him curl up and take them quietly.

He was tired. His arms didn't hold, his neck didn't hold and everything was so cold and uncomfortable. The wall against his back, the porcelain bowl in front of him digging into his arms. His knees were getting numb from being folded over them for so long.

Isaiah had this thing where he could zone out when the real world became too painful. He learned it during training with father, kept him sane.

He couldn't tell where he was of what day it was. So he retreated into the back of his mind. No point in panicking. This surely had an explanation.

He just had to hold out until it got better. It always did. That's what a wolf's sturdy healing body was for. Taking pain.

What did they plan for holidays? They should go somewhere, it was too warm in Vienna in summer. He should read more poems. They were very meditative and he could always stop and mule over words in times like these...

Something cold on his cheek made him blink. His senses returned to him, swarming him back with nauseating precision. It made him gag immediately, stomach muscles slamming against his ribs.

Hector was there, leaning next to him. "Hey, easy, easy. Deep breaths."

"What-" he gulped, trying to make his scratchy throat to work. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here, duh," Hector huffed at him, amber brown eyes unusually close to Isaiah's face. He could see all the honey and brown hues swiling inside.

Isaiah was even more confused, but his head felt too floaty to decipher the meaning. He slumped to the side, Hector quickly catching him, hand around his shoulders. "Yeah, this is way too high. Arnie get the bath going- Yeah, mild temp not too cold- He would get into a shock-"

Isaiah felt Hector's massive frame underneath him and let go even further. Everything hurt. Hector was too cold and too edgy to lie against.

"I'll give you 'edgy'," Hector grumbled, both hands around Isaiah as he dragged him upward. "Let's not wait, we can start with a shower and wait until the bathtub is full."

Isaiah must have been floating, cause the walls and the ground disappeared as Hector lifted him up. That was nice. Less things to dig into him.

Getting into the bathtub under the freezing water was less nice. He struggled against the strong arms, trying to get out, but Hector pinned him down into a sitting position. "Oi, oi, oi, stop it. Stay still."

Isaiah didn't want to stay still. He was missing a shirt and trembling with the cold. Water was rapidly filling the bathtub and he still had his pants on and Hector was pushing him down - was he trying to drown him?

Isaiah trashed around, trying to get away. What was this? Did Hector finally lose patience, wanting to get rid of him for his betrayal? Did father order this and Hector listened? Did the pack decide this and Hector was executing their will?

Suddenly there was Arnie, both his hands on Isaiah's cheeks. Saying something. Isaiah tried to focus on his little brother's pale face, green eyes wide withe emotion. Lie still, lie still, lie still.

Arnie wouldn't be angry at Isaiah. He wouldn't listen to father or the pack, cause he never listened to anyone. No, Arnie was here so it meant he was safe.

Isaiah relaxed, falling back against the water. Another pair of hands were holding him up, so he wouldn't sink.

***

Hector worked mechanically. 10 minutes in the cold bath. They needed new clothes. He send Arnie to get some of his old ones. T-shirt and boxers, so Isaiah wouldn't be too warm.

He didn't have time to freak out. Isaiah would drown himself if he did.

Hector helped him out of the bathtub, then the pants and socks, drying him up with the towel. Isaiah was too out of it to be scared this time, eyes completely unfocused.

When they got him into the bed, clean and relatively dry, Arnie went to get more of wet towels to wrap around him. That's when Hector let himself slump against the side wall.

Hector knew Isaiah had a lot of forgiving him to do. That Hector needed to win his trust back.

Arnie never gave up on Isaiah the way Hector did. Arnie never doubted him the way Hector did. Never hated him the same way.

Of course that would leave scars. Hector expected- maybe ignored it willfully? Was it not good they didn't talk it over?

The thing was, Hector was sure if they started to talk, they would argue. On the surface they were very different and would disagree on bunch of stuff - from pack size, training regiments to what school was useful and how a wolf should act. But he felt like their hearts were connected. That they both felt how much the other cared.

Hector felt rejected for so long, but it was all an illusion. Isaiah always cared. He looked like he didn't because he cared so much. And Arnie always believed in him with that blind devotion of his.

The only one in the wrong was Hector.

But he never felt so useless and so distrusted as at that moment in the bathtub. Where Isaiah, feverish, out of control, logic and reason fried away, looked at him - recognised him - and trashed in terror.

There was a hollow pit forming in his stomach. Hector buried his hands in his hair, pulling at the strands.

He felt do disgusted with himself he just wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.

***

Isaiah's breathing was all wrong. Too fast and erratic.

Hector went closer, despite himself. He put a hand over Isaiah's forehead gently.

The fever was a lot better after the bathtub, but now it was climbing again. He opened the window and readjusted the wet towels around Isaiah's ankles and wrists.

His heartbeat was too fast too. Like a small terrified bird, beating in his chest, trying to come out.

Isaiah's stomach gave a loud gurgle, a bubble of air coming up in a soundless burp. His face scrunched up in pain. "Ugh."

"Hey." Hector was torn. He felt incredibly protective, seeing Isaiah this helpless and out of it. He wanted to be close. To guard him, to hold him.

But he also felt like he was too close, too much. That he should get the fuck away if Isaiah could get scared of him.

Arnie told him about what their eldest brother said about stress stomachache that prevented him from realizing he was getting sick. Sobbed himself to sleep right after in the living room, when cleaning it up.

Tonight was really brutal.

Isaiah rolled to his side, face still a mask of pain. He opened his eyes blearily. Then he was heaving, before he could even lift himself up on shaky arms.

Hector sprung up to help him lean over the wet towel at his side, so he wouldn't choke. Isaiah heaved and heaved, but only a clear string of bile came up.

He fell back in exhaustion, breathing all ragged. "Ow, that hurt."

"You are running on empty, man." Hector quickly retracted his hands away, leaning back against the wall.

Isaiah didn't move, but his eyes slowly turned towards Hector. He lifted his hand clumsily to rub against his chest. "Hurtssss."

"Your chest?"

"My hand."

"Hand?" Hector leaned closer in surprise.

Isaiah reached his right hand over to him as if he expected him to see an injury. "Ow."

"Did you hit it in the bathroom or something?"

"No. Broken. More places. Last week."

Hector braced himself against the bed to inspect the hand. It looked completely alright to him. Maybe echoes of the pain? "You are fine now, Zaya, I promise."

"Hurts."

"Okay, you know what?" Hector grabbed one of the wet towels from Isaiah's left ankle and wrapped the hand carefully inside. "Like this. It will get cooled down, is that better?"

Isaiah made a satisfied noise at the back of his throat and gingerly put his hand back against his side. "Thanks."

"Anything else?" Hector said, a little amused at the whining. He had never seen Isaiah like this.

"Head's killing me," Isaiah said with a pitiful frown.

"Go figure. You were puking your guts out for over an hour nonstop." Hector reached for the glass with the rehydration solution Arnie made in preparation. "Think you could manage a few sips of this? Would help a ton with the headache."

Isaiah eyed it wearily. "Can't get up."

"True," Hector said with a sigh. "I'll get you a straw, just wait a minute."

He rumbled through some drawers until he found the colour straws Arnie collected. They never drank alcohol at home or outside, since Hector hated it, but Arnie liked drinking juices and sweet drinks with cool cocktail glasses and straws.

Isaiah didn't change positions until Hector returned, sitting down at the edge of the bed. He helped Isaiah to lean forward a bit to catch the straw between chapped lips and take a two slow careful sips. "There. Careful. If you keep it down, I will give you more." He eased him back to bed, sliding away from it immediately as well.

"Uhm..." Isaiah blinked, eyelids falling heavily.

"Get some more sleep."

"Why are you...so far away?"

Hector scowled then chuckled. He was a hand away, not wanting to crowd Isaiah after the bathroom thing...but the words made something fluttery and heartwarming flood his chest. The blond wolf shifted closer.

Isaiah wiggled out his left hand towards him, fingers outstretched. His eyes looked so much like Arnie’s when he looked up.

Hector clasped his hand with a sigh. "Here. All close, not going anywhere. Sleep."

***

Hector expected the worst to be over after the little whiny, but somewhat coherent episode.

No such luck.

The fever went up again, making Isaiah gasp and shake in his sleep like a leaf.

Hector threw the covers over him at one point, when his teeth started to chatter audibly but Isaiah was kicking them away soon after.

He had to change the shirt he sweat through two times. There was a constant sheen of perspiration on his forehead and neck. A battle Hector wasn't about to lose, wiping it away.

In-between, Hector held Isaiah’s hand, trying to anchor him. The sick wolf trashed around, but the hold calmed him.

When Isaiah turned his head with a whimper, a crease between his eyes, Hector dared to lean closer. He massages the frown gently with his forefinger and thumb, the way he would do for Arnie with a particularly bad migraine.

Isaiah's face relaxed after and he slept a little less fitfully.

It was around 4 in the morning, when Isaiah's eyes opened again. Hector slept in bounds of 20 minutes tops, checking on him, shifting and waking with every little sound or roll.

Isaiah's eyes were open, two big endless pools of dark green. There was something different about them this time. Too smooth and dark, like his pupil wasn't there.

"Mom?"

Hector gasped for breath. The word felt like a punch against his ribs.

"I feel really sick," Isaiah rasped, his look all dull and vacant. "Don't think I can get up."

Hector wanted to let go of Isaiah's hand, flinching away like it burned, but the other man held on to it with surprising force. "Mom. You gotta tell Hex...tell Hex and Arnie not to play in my room, okay? I don't want them to catch this."

His eyes closed again and he let out a quiet whimper. "Dad's gonna be disappointed I can't train with him today. Will you say I'm sorry?"

For better or for worse, Hector couldn't find his voice. He just sat there rigidly, while Isaiah dug his fingers into his hand.

"I was really looking forward to it..."

"Shhhh," Hector managed, brushing the sweaty hair out of Isaiah's forehead.

Isaiah let out a shaky breath, before it evened out.

Hector held his hand all tight for another half an hour, hot little tears dripping onto the sheets.

[daisynik7]

Reap What You Sew

Pairing: Takashi Mitsuya x Original Female Character

Rating: Mature

Word Count: ~5.5k

cw: explicit language, switching POVs (2nd and 3rd person), established relationship, kissing, suggestive, angst, fluff

Summary: A dinner with you, Mitsuya, and your parents quickly goes south. Mitsuya makes a decision that could lead to dire consequences. 

Author's Note: Hello everyone, thank you for your patience with this! Heads up, this story is going to reach a pretty dramatic turning point in the next chapter, so be prepared! And with that ominous warning, enjoy lol. Thank you for reading!

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Mitsuya spends the remainder of their date giving his girlfriend a crash-course in the history of the Tokyo Manji Gang, skipping through the boring, less significant details and emphasizing what she absolutely must know. The most important takeaway is that Tetta Kisaki and Shuji Hanma are not to be trusted at all costs.

Since the encounter, the two left the arcade promptly, Mitsuya glaring at the sketchy captains on the way out, who matched his expression with equal vigor. He made sure they weren’t followed to the station and boarded the train, returning to the park where they had previously spent the most amazing day together. He regrets forcing them to the arcade in the first place, wishing they had stayed laying in the grass, blissful in their own little world, away from any potential danger. How could he be so arrogant to think he could keep these two major parts of his life separate? How could he be so careless to let Hana become involved in this?

Sitting on a park bench, she listens, barely interrupting, nodding along to indicate her understanding. She’s now aware of all the players involved, of who she should avoid and who she can trust, including all of Mitsuya’s closest friends. At one point, she asks, “What about Mikey?”

If this was three years ago, at the height of Toman’s regime, Mitsuya would have a confident answer. However, the founder’s current favoritism towards the new captains leaves many open-ended questions for those who’s been loyal to him from the start. Deep down in his heart, however, Mitsuya still believes in Mikey. He chooses his words carefully. “They’re trying to manipulate him, but we’re going to bring him back. We have to get him back.”

Eventually, he suggests befriending Emma Sano and Hinata Tachibana to learn the ins-and-outs of being a girlfriend of a Toman boyfriend. They’ve both managed to succeed in it without harm, for the most part. Maybe the reason for that is because their boyfriends have both put the gang on the backburner to focus on their personal lives, Draken preparing to be a father and Takemitchy preparing for university. Mitsuya even has his own plans for after high school, but he always figured he would be able to balance his responsibilities all at once. Now that he’s a proper boyfriend, can he add that into his already teetering workload without sacrificing what he already has? Or without one collapsing on top of the other?

Mentally drained from explaining as much as he can, there’s a prolonged silence between them as she lets all the information sink in. After what seems like an eternity, she speaks, a slight waver in her voice, though resilient. “Takashi, it’s going to be okay.”

His brows are tight with worry, holding her hand with a firm grip. “How are you so sure? What if they try to hurt you?” 

She smiles at him. “Because I’m with you. I’ll always be safe when I’m with you.”

He’s scared, absolutely terrified. But her confidence in him moves him to tears. He blinks them away, grinning at her with as much confidence as he can muster. “I’ll keep you safe, Hana. I promise you.”

This is one promise he swears to himself he won’t break. 

~~~

A week after your date, your parents put the pieces together and ask you straight up. “Are you and Mitsuya dating?” It’s your mother who poses the question, your father still as uncomfortable with the subject as he was the morning you announced that you were hanging out with a boy.

The three of you are eating dinner, about finished with the meal on your plate. You almost choke on the last bite, surprised by her very correct accusation. Clearing your throat, you answer honestly. “Yes.”

Your dad makes a strangled nose in his throat, clearly shocked. Maybe he was hoping with all his might that the answer would be no, or that you’d lie about it. Ignorance is bliss, after all. Your mother isn’t quite as keen on playing dumb. She’s noticed the change in your demeanor, the pep in your step, the sound of your hushed voice through the thin walls, speaking to Takashi well into the night on the phone. She doesn’t miss these things. A mother’s intuition never fails. She studies you carefully, almost challenging. “We should invite him over for dinner.”

You know better than to argue with her, so you agree. The next time his mom isn’t working a night shift, that’s when he’ll come for dinner. It’s been decided. 

It’s a Wednesday night when he arrives to your house, dressed in a lavender buttoned-up shirt and black slacks, a colorful bouquet of spring flowers in his hands, smiling wide when you open the door to greet him. His hair is swept back more than usual, gelled and parted to the side, his effort to make a good impression evident. You want to give him a kiss, giddy at his appearance, though you decide against any form of physical affection throughout the night, assuming it wouldn’t be a good look in front of your parents.

He removes his shoes, laying them next to yours on the rack, giving you a sly wink before walking with you into the kitchen, where your parents are putting the finishing touches on their homemade dinner. “Mitsuya, good evening. Thank you for coming,” you mother says, wiping her hands on the front of her apron. She nudges your father, who’s surly near the stove, arms crossed over his chest. He sniffs, avoiding his gaze while he mutters, “Yes, hello.”

Takashi bows, holding out the bouquet when he stands up straight. “Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Shimizu. Mr. Shimizu. It’s an honor to be here with you tonight to share this wonderful meal. I brought these flowers for you.”

Your mom accepts them, smiling politely. “These are lovely. Thank you. I’ve got the perfect place for them. Honey, go ahead and show your boyfriend to the table. Dinner will be ready soon.”

Your father makes a noise, somewhere between a disgruntled huff and an incredulous laugh. You’re unsure how he feels about this whole situation and you pray that he doesn’t grill Takashi too hard tonight. You’re confident in your boyfriend that he will be his authentic, good-natured self and that your parents will learn to like him just as much as you do. You take your seat at the table, Takashi right beside you. Under the surface, hidden from view, he reaches for your hand, squeezing you gently until your parents join you. Your mother sets the flowers in a vase at the center, adding a splash of color to the setting. 

Tonight’s dinner is glazed miso salmon with white rice and steamed vegetables. Takashi admires the meal with sparkling eyes. “This is incredible, Mrs. Shimizu!”

She waves him off. “Oh, this is nothing, dear.”

“It’s definitely something,” he beams, picking up his chopsticks to dig in. “My mom can’t even make rice without burning it.”

She giggles. “So who does the cooking at home, then?”

“Me. I only know how to make the basics for me and my sisters. Hana here has significantly improved our instant ramen by adding fresh ingredients, which is genius. My sisters love her recipe,” he brags, glancing at you. 

“That’s nice to hear. Anyways, help yourself.”

Altogether, you clap your hands. “Thank you for the food!”

There’s a moment of silence while the four of you begin eating, only the tap of utensils on ceramic plates to occupy the silence. Takashi takes a of bite, commenting, “It’s delicious, Mrs. Shimizu.”

“Oh good. If you’d like, I can give you the recipe. Something new for you and your sisters to try at your house,” she offers. 

“I’d love that. Thank you.”

Your father suddenly speaks, startling the rest of you. “So, Mitsuya. That bike of yours. Do you have a license to drive that thing?”

You clench your jaw, nervous about the interrogation that’s about to occur between your father and your boyfriend. Takashi wipes his mouth with a napkin, clearing his throat, giving him his full attention. “Yes, sir. I’ve had my license since I was sixteen.”

Your father raises a brow at him, elbows propped on the surface, hands in prayer, tapping his fingertips to his chin. “Do you enjoy riding it? Seems dangerous if you ask me.”

You almost mutter, Nobody asked you, but you resist the temptation, stuffing your mouth with fish to prevent yourself from blurting anything out. Takashi seems to be handling well, explaining, “I only go the speed limit, sir. And I wear a helmet every time I ride, so it’s pretty safe.”

“And you’ve driven Hana on your motorbike several times already, haven’t you?” His brows are tight, scrutinizing and intimidating. 

“Yes, I have. She has her own helmet and I’m very cautious when she’s with me. Her safety is my top priority. It always will be.”

Your father hums, and you hope you’ve gotten past the worst of it, not expecting him to bring out the big guns. However, you soon find out that it’s far from over. “Are you in one of those biker gangs?”

“Dad!” you cry out, cheeks hot.

Even your mom interjects. “Honey!”

He doesn’t waver, waiting for Takashi’s answer. “Well?”

The smile on your boyfriend’s face drops, his expression more serious when he replies, “Yes, sir. I’m in the Tokyo Manji Gang.” He stutters a bit while adding, “I was one of the founding members.”

As if he cracked the code, your father nods, smirking in a wicked manner. “I’ve heard about them. I noticed your jacket a few times whenever you dropped my daughter off. Don’t think I didn’t do my research on you. I’m aware of your little gang, all the havoc you’ve caused throughout the years.” Your mom calls him by his first name, urging him to stop. He doesn’t relent. 

“I understand your concerns, sir. I won’t deny that I’ve been involved with violence in the past. But I’ve changed a lot since then. I don’t like fighting, I never have. I want a life outside of the gang, and I think I’m on my way there.”

“Oh? How so?” 

“Well, I want to be a fashion designer. I’m quite handy when it comes to sewing.”

“Are you planning on going to a university?”

“Vocational school. After graduation, I’ll be taking a year off to work at a local tailor to save some money for tuition. I’m applying to a school nearby, so that I can be here for my family. And for Hana.” He glances at you, smiling. You reach for him, holding his hand. 

Your father leans forward on the table, intrigued. “So, you’re aware that Hana is attending a university here in Tokyo.”

“Yes, I am, sir. And I know she’s going to study to be a teacher.”

“Yes, that’s right. That means she cannot afford any distractions from her studies.” 

Takashi places his palm over his chest. “I’ll make sure nothing gets in her way of that.” 

“You misunderstand. Boyfriends are a distraction.”

This time, you do interrupt. “Dad, Takashi hasn’t been a distraction for me so far, and he will never be a distraction. He helps me, he supports me. I’m happier because of him.” 

His voice is stern as he bangs a fist on a table, frustrated. “This boy is trouble. It doesn’t matter what he does in his spare time. Sewing, babysitting, I don’t care. At the end of the day, he’s a gang member. A delinquent. A punk.”

Tears well in your eyes, skin prickling with anger. Takashi gazes at his lap, at a loss for words. “How can you be so prejudiced?” you argue. “You don’t even know Takashi, yet you’re judging him. He’s been nothing but kind and sweet to me. It doesn’t matter to me that he’s in a gang, he’s important to me, and I won’t let you belittle him like this!” 

He stands up, throwing his napkin on the table, pointing his finger at you. “You are naïve, Hana! Disillusioned by this silly little fantasy of yours. I won’t let you ruin your life for someone like him. I just won’t!”

You’re on your feet, matching his expression. “I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions. You can’t tell me what to do!”

“Hana.” Takashi’s voice is quiet, the slightest tremble in it. He tugs on your wrist, urging you to calm down. “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not!” you whine, cheeks wet with your tears. 

Takashi stands with you, taking a deep breath, directing his words towards your father. “You’re right. I am a gang member, a delinquent, a punk. It’s all true. There was a time that I would risk life and limb for the gang. I almost did after getting my skull fractured by a metal pipe in a fight. My mother and sisters were terrified, thinking they lost me.”

He swallows hard, looking at you with a small smile on his face. “And now with Hana in my life, I’m surer than ever what I need to do. I’m going to leave Toman. For good.”

~~~

It’s Friday night and Mitsuya sits in Draken’s kitchen, a devoured bowl of his friend’s homemade curry in front of him. Emma and Hana are inside the guest bedroom, which is slowly transforming into a nursery. He can hear his girlfriend’s sweet laughter at Emma’s weekly work drama while they assemble a crib that the expecting couple recently purchased. They had met no more than two hours ago, though it seems like they’ve already become fast friends. 

Mitsuya finishes recounting the drama from over a week ago. Draken stands up on the other side of the table, collecting the dirty dishes and carrying them to the sink. “So, what did the old man say after that?”

“Nothing. He ate the rest of the meal in silence. Her mom started rambling about some other stuff to lighten the mood and that was it.” He checks behind him on the two ladies, making sure they can’t hear him. In a hushed voice, he adds, “Hana hasn’t really spoken to him much since then. She said it’ll fizzle out eventually.” 

“Ah, I see.” Draken lets the water run, soaking the bowls. “Do you really mean it?”

“What?”

“Leaving Toman.”

There’s a heavy pause while he thoroughly contemplates his response. “Yeah, I do.”

At the time he announced it, his entire body was buzzing with emotion. It slipped out of his mouth before he realized what he was actually saying. As the days passed, the more confidence he has gained about his decision. All the dreams he has for his future no longer revolve around Toman. And while he wants to remain loyal to his friends, his brothers, he figures he can do that without being involved in the gang anymore. He’s long grown tired of the unnecessary violence and drama.

“Wow,” Draken responds, whistling through his teeth. “Good for you, Taka.”

“How about you?” Mitsuya gets up, leaning against the counter, watching his friend. “Do you ever think about leaving?”

Draken focuses on scrubbing the dishes with a sponge. “Of course I do. But I can’t do that to Mikey.”

“Am I a bad friend?”

Draken stops the faucet, wiping his hands dry on a dish towel, turning to face him. He places a hand on his shoulder. “Not one bit. You should be happy. If this is something you have to do, then do it. You’ll always have our support. Me, Emma, and little Ken Junior.”

It takes a beat to realize his last words. “Wait, Ken Junior?”

Draken beams at him. “Yeah. We’re having a boy.”

They hug, Mitsuya patting Draken’s back extra hard, so excited that his cheeks hurt from smiling, tears welling in his eyes. “Fucking Ken Junior, holy shit.”

Draken sniffles, squeezing him in a tight embrace. “KJ, for short. Emma thinks it’s cute.”

They break apart, laughing. “It is. Does Mikey know?”

“Not yet. Emma finally managed to convince him to come over for dinner next Friday before the Toman meeting. Maybe you should come to, so you can leverage your bad news with our good news,” he jokes. 

“That’s not a bad idea.” A lightbulb shines in his mind, remembering what he overhead a couple of weeks ago at the arcade. “I almost forgot, I have something else to tell you.” 

After recapping the incident with Kisaki and Hanma, Draken stares at him, uneasy. “Are you sure they said that?”

“Positive. They’re trying to take out Mikey.” Admitting it out loud has Mitsuya’s throat dry, the seriousness of it all creating a sense of dread in his chest. This feeling hasn’t left since that day. Voice trembling, he adds, “They also threatened Hana.” 

Draken huffs. “Sons of bitches. I always knew they were scheming. I don’t know why Mikey even trusted them to begin with. We have to tell him. Who knows when they’re gonna go through with it? Could be today, could be tomorrow.”

“I don’t think it’d be random. Kisaki is trying to work his way up, get as close to Mikey as possible. Maybe even take over your spot.” 

“Mikey’s too smart to fall for that,” Draken states, dismissing the very idea of it. 

“I don’t know,” Mitsuya ponders, biting his lip. “Kisaki is in his good graces right now after all that shit with the Leviathans.”

With more conviction, Draken says, “It takes a lot more than that for Mikey to truly trust people. He probably already suspects Kisaki’s true intentions. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. He’s always been a big believer in that.”

Having known Mikey for years, ever since they all first founded Toman together, Mitsuya reconsiders the current situation. Could Mikey’s icy behavior towards his real friends be part of a more elaborate plan to foil Kisaki and Hanma? Is it all an act to test the gang’s loyalties to him and to Toman? After all, their fearless leader has always been one for dramatics. “So should we tell him?”

“We’ll wait until Friday,” Draken suggests. “He’ll want to make a big show out of it, in front of everyone. Have dinner with us and tell Mikey everything, even the stuff about you wanting to quit. Yeah, he might be a little pissed, but once we tell him about Kisaki, he’ll have his fun and feel better.” He smiles at him reassuringly. “Mikey cares for you. We all do. Not because you’re in Toman. Because you’re you.”

Mitsuya’s been contemplating all week long about what he truly wants to do when it comes to his future. It’s terrifying to take that leap outside of what he grew up with and into the unknown. Sure, it’s easy to think that leaving the gang life is easy. For him, Toman has been his comfort. Brothers who protected him, supported him, even when his own family couldn’t. It was exciting, an escape from his less-than-glamorous life.

He doesn’t need that anymore. He has Hana and being in love with her is just as thrilling. The surge of adrenaline that rushes through him each time he touches her, kisses her, hears her voice. He has someone who loves him for all that he is, someone who will continue to love him no matter what. His fellow twin dragon reassuring him is exactly what he needs to solidify his decision. It’s time to move on.

~~~

There’s a palpable tension in the air as you walk into Takashi’s home, fully aware that you’re alone with one another the rest of the night. It’s the first time in a while that your boyfriend’s mother doesn’t have to work on the weekend, so she took this opportunity to bring the girls to their grandparents. Takashi was extended an invitation of course; he declined, wanting to spend some much-needed alone time with you. You’re nervous about staying the night with him though you can’t deny it any longer that you’ve been thinking about this next step in your relationship.

The same genuine smile is on his face when he welcomes you in with a big hug. “Hi,” he greets, kissing you. You drop your bag to wrap your arms around him, melting into his lips. The jitters you had on the way here soon fade as you relax into his embrace. You could stay like this forever, given the chance. He pulls away, cupping your cheek lovingly. “The pizza should be coming soon. Do you want to put your stuff in my room?”

You nod in response, watching him grab your bag, heart racing once more while he leads you by the hand into his bedroom. You’ve been in here before, but never like this. Never with the preface of something more intimate happening, and soon. You still haven’t spoken a single word to him and he senses your trepidation. “Are you okay?” he asks, concerned. 

Unconvincing, you reply, “Yeah.”

“Are you sure?” He plops down at the edge of the bed, patting the spot beside him. 

You sit, hands on your lap, twiddling your thumbs. “I’m a little nervous.”

He holds you, lacing his fingers with yours. “About what?”

You face him. “This.”

Understanding, he leans closer, nuzzling his nose to yours. “I’m nervous too. But you know what? You and I have all the time in the world. We can go at whatever pace we’re both comfortable with. If that means tonight, great. If that means years from now, that’s great too. I just want to be with you, like this.” He brings your hand up to his lips, kissing along your knuckles. 

Your heart swells in your chest, not from nerves this time. “I want to be with you too.”

There’s a slight hitch in his voice before he whispers, “I love you, Hana.” He swallows thickly, repeating himself more surely, gazing into your eyes. “I love you.”

It slips from your mouth easily, naturally. “I love you too, Takashi.” It’s a sentiment that’s been lingering on the tip of your tongue for a while now, and you’re relieved to finally let it out. Ecstatic that he feels the same way as you. 

You and Takashi eat pizza on the couch, laughing over silly stories until there are tears in your eyes and your stomachs hurt in the best way possible. After dinner, you get ready for bed, Takashi gushing about how adorable you are in your pajamas, scooting to one side of the bed to make room for you, instantly cuddling you once you’re in. Moonlight streams dimly through his window, enough for you to see the soothing lavender in his eyes as the two of you stay up a few more hours talking about anything and everything. 

It gets close, almost too close. Chaste kisses that leave the both of you breathless and clearly aroused. Lingering touches, grazes of bare skin, I love you chanted over and over again. But you don’t consummate your relationship tonight. Instead, you fall asleep snuggled together, completely committed to one another for the rest of your lives. And somehow, this seems more intimate than anything else. 

~~~

Another week passes and Mitsuya finds himself once again at Draken’s for dinner on a Friday night. However, the setting is a bit different than usual: the notoriously absent and distant Mikey Sano has joined them. 

The obviously tension is quickly dismissed when Emma makes her important announcement to her brother, who reacts accordingly. After being cold and lifeless to those around him, Mikey sheds his frigid demeanor and cracks the first genuine smile they’ve all seen from him in months. “A baby?” he repeats, almost in disbelief, studying his sister’s tummy, which is starting to show signs of pregnancy. 

“A baby boy, Mikey. You’re going to have a nephew!” she says, tearing up. She holds out the sonogram to him. 

Mikey laughs softly, shaking his head, inspecting the picture. “I can’t believe my little sister is going to have a baby. And with this guy of all people,” he jokes, pointing at the man beside him.

“Hey!” Draken yelps, shoving his arm playfully. “I’ve been doing a damn good job so far providing for your pregnant sister while you’ve been off gallivanting with the Leviathans.”

Mikey’s expression sullens, realizing how accurate that is. “You’re right. I should have been here for you, Emma. I’m sorry. I’ve just been busy.”

“Busy with what?” Draken prods, focusing his attention on him. “Come on, Mikey. We’re your friends. Your family. You can talk to us.”

He runs his fingers through his hair, taking his time to ultimately ignore him and deflect the attention to someone else. “What’s Mitsuya doing here anyways? Don’t tell me he’s gotten someone pregnant too.”

Mitsuya’s alarmed at the sudden spotlight. Chuckling nervously, he replies, “No one else is pregnant, don’t worry.”

“Though he did snag himself a sweetheart, didn’t you, Takashi?” Emma nudges him, grinning. 

“Oh?” Mikey raises a brow, curious.

He waves them off, embarrassed. “Yeah, that’s true, but that’s not why I’m here.” He clears his throat, ready to explain. “Mikey, there’s something you should know about Kisaki and Hanma.”

Mikey listens intently as he recalls the incident from a couple of weeks ago, fresh in his memory. He doesn’t interrupt and his expression remains neutral. When he’s done, Mikey sits in silence, processing this new information carefully. Eventually, he utters a single word. “Interesting.”

Draken’s face contorts into a grimace, unsatisfied with his friend’s reaction, or lack thereof. “That’s all you have to say?”

Mikey shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest. “What else should I say?”

“Kisaki is trying to get rid of you. Aren’t you upset?” Mitsuya asks, bothered by his cavalier attitude.

He smirks. “Did you really think I wouldn’t catch on to that motherfucker’s plan?” 

Draken barks a laugh, slapping Mikey’s back jovially. “I knew it! I fucking knew it! Didn’t I tell you, Mitsuya?!”

Mitsuya relaxes, smiling at the two of them. “So you knew about Kisaki this whole time?”

“The Leviathans aren’t as loyal to him as he thinks they are,” Mikey explains. 

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I wasn’t sure who to trust. At first,” he answers. 

Draken raises his voice. “You doubted us? After everything we’ve been through –”

“I know. I know, Draken.” His gaze lingers on the sonogram of his soon-to-be-nephew. “It took a while to come back to my senses, but I did. I’m sorry.”

“What about Emma? Why have you been ignoring her?”

Mikey gulps loudly, staring directly at his sister. “I wanted to protect you, so I distanced myself. I didn’t want Kisaki or Hanma thinking I was close to you.” He reaches out to hold her hand. “I’m sorry.”

Emma sniffs, wiping tears away from her eyes with her free hand. “It’s okay, Mikey. I’m just happy to have you back.”

“I promise I’ll be around more, for you and the baby,” he says, smiling at her. 

Mitsuya’s chest is heavy with emotion, happy to see his friend has returned to his normal self, anxious about the news that’s been weighing on his mind lately. He doesn’t want to put a damper on this joyous moment, but Draken doesn’t give him much of a choice when he announces, “Mitsuya has something else he wants to tell you.”

Mikey focuses his attention once more on him. “What is it, Takashi?”

He takes a deep breath, trying not to let his nerves prevent him from doing this. “I’m leaving Toman.”

Mikey blinks at him several times, processing, then his expression softens. “Is this because of this new sweetheart of yours?”

“It’s not just her,” Mitsuya explains. “It’s time for me to move on. Pursue my dreams of becoming a fashion designer. I can’t do that if I’m active in the gang.” He looks down at his lap, avoiding whatever reaction is on Mikey’s face. “I’m sorry.”

It’s silent for a few moments and Mitsuya is convinced that his friend is ready to shun him for the rest of his life. When he hears his soft voice, he looks up, relieved that he isn’t yelling or glaring daggers into his soul. “You don’t have to apologize, Takashi. It’s alright.”

“It is?” 

“Of course it is. We’re brothers. I’ll support you no matter what you decide. And if that means leaving Toman, so be it. It’s tough losing another founding member, but if this is what’s best for you, I have no choice but to be okay with it.” He grins at the picture in front of him. “Besides, there will be a new little one coming soon. Who knows? He could be my successor.”

Emma giggles nervously, not fond of the idea. “Let’s hold off on that for a while longer, shall we?”

It’s almost too good to be true, the way the stars have aligned just right for Mitsuya. His dreams are this much closer to becoming a reality. He’s got everyone in his corner with his entire future ahead of him, brighter and more tangible than it’s ever been before. 

With everything finally out in the open, they’re able to enjoy a relaxing meal, courtesy of Draken, who cooks a delicious dinner for them. Mikey catches up with Emma and Draken on their journey to become parents and Mitsuya shares in small detail about his serious relationship with Hana. 

When they’re done, the three men ride out together towards the shrine, nostalgia hitting Mitsuya hard and directly in his heart. This very well may be the last time he rides with them like this. It’s almost enough to change his mind about leaving. Almost. They’re no longer kids anymore, and he’s learned to be okay with that. 

They have a vague idea of how Mikey’s going to proceed with Kisaki and Hanma, but of course, there’s always something unexpected when it comes to Mikey. After the usual announcements, he calls out for the two to join him front and center. They’re surprised by the unexpected attention, unsure what Mikey could possibly be recognizing them for. 

Mikey’s voice is calm at first. “I want to take this moment to recognize these two, Shuji Hanma and Tetta Kisaki. I trusted them to infiltrate the Leviathans and they did so successfully.” There’s a hesitant round of applause from the confused crowd. 

Mitsuya notices the obvious buzz coming from the Leviathans gathered near the back but resists the urge to turn around to inspect. Takemitchy nudges him, whispering, “What’s going on?”

“You’ll see,” Mitsuya responds.

Mikey continues. “Most of you may not know this, but I’ve grown a bit closer to the Leviathans myself. I wanted to gain their trust, since we were previously rivals. You see, trust is very important to me and very important to Toman. It’s one of the foundations that keeps a brotherhood together, don’t you agree, Kisaki?”

Kisaki’s shoves his glasses up his nose, suspicious of what’s happening. He nods, silently agreeing with him.

Mikey’s voice gets louder. “That’s why when someone breaks my trust, it’s hard for me to look pass that.” He directs his attention to Kisaki, eyes narrowing. “Isn’t that right, Kisaki?”

Hanma interjects, rolling his eyes, impatient with all the banter. “What the hell is this about, Mikey?”

“I’m expelling you both from the gang. Your Toman memberships are revoked immediately.”

There’s a collection of gasps and chatter, mostly everyone surprised by the sudden expulsion of the two captains who were previously praised just weeks before. Draken remains calm next to Mikey, occasionally glancing at Hanma, who flashes a creepy smile on his face, unfazed.

Kisaki yells, “What?! You can’t be serious!”

“Does this sound like a joke to you?” Mikey replies, stone-cold. 

Kisaki throws his hands up in the air, outraged. “What did I do?” 

Mikey walks up to him, nearly nose-to-nose. “You know what you did. Did you really think you could plot to take me out without anyone warning me about it first? Who do you think you are? Have you forgotten who I am?”

“I never did anything like that!” he argues, desperation laced in his tone. “You’re going to trust these nobodies instead of me?! I joined Toman to help you, Mikey. Everything I do is for your sake. Together, we can make Toman the most powerful gang in all of Tokyo. You need me!”

Mikey grabs him by the collar roughly. “I don’t need any part of you. I never have. Now get out of my sight.” He let’s go of him, waiting for them to leave. People from the crowd shout their support of Mikey’s decision, subsequently adding in their malice towards the two ex-Toman members. Hanma has yet to react properly to the situation, seemingly finding this entire altercation amusing, an eerie smirk on his face with his hands stuffed inside his pockets. When they refuse to leave, four burly brothers escort them out. Kisaki is in hysterics, continuing to blab on and on about how much Toman is going to suffer without him. 

Hanma finally speaks when he passes by Mitsuya. “You’re going to regret this,” he threatens loudly to no one in particular, yet Mitsuya has this awful sense that it may be towards him. He bursts into a maniacal cackle as he’s shoved towards the exit, his wicked laughter still ringing in Mitsuya’s ear even when they’re completely gone. 

[alexmeeksmartin]

enchanted to meet you

part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/alexmeeksmartin/716331255770333184/dont-be-afraid-to-jump-then-fall

pairing: chad meeks-martin x gn reader

synopsis: the one where anika drags her roommate, y/n, to meet her new friends from blackmore. one in particular catches y/n’s eye.

a/n: first fic, so probably is kinda bad but we’ll see how it goes ! sorry it’s so rough, still finding my footing lol !! originally wrote in the first person but changed it, might still be a mistake or two in there tho

wc: 2.0k

“so, y/n, these are the guys i wanted you to meet!” anika starts as you study the four strangers that anika had just gathered around. the first was a tall boy with short curly brown hair, who shyly looks away the moment you make eye contact with him. from what anika had said, your bets are that he’s ethan. he’s totally what you expected from anika’s stories. “this is ethan, as you know we’re in econ together.” bingo.

next to him was a shorter girl with dark hair and freckles crossing over her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. you make a mental note to find out where she gets her shoes. “and this is tara, her and her sister only live a couple blocks away from us.” tara sends you a large smile, to which you respond with a warm grin.

anika crossed the pair to walk over to the other girl in the group and wrap her arm around her shoulder. “here we have mindy.” in your head you think that those two would definitely make a cute couple, anika clearly has taken a liking to her. “i’ve heard a lot about you.” you begin before anika shoots you a look, quickly silencing you.

“and last but not least, this is chad.” anika finishes, showing you an absolute hunk of a man, with chad winking at you. you play it cool, giving him a raise of your eyebrows in response. as far as you know, he could be just another gross man. “well, I’m y/n obviously. um, so, it’s really nice to meet all of you! i’m gonna go get a drink now… but i’ll see you guys around!” you say, swiftly heading to the kitchen through the bustling crowds. you’re sure they’re all nice but anika is a bit more outgoing than you are, and they look like they could be a lot. plus, parties aren’t really your scene anyways, you think to yourself.

you head to the kitchen, seeing a bottle of vodka and pouring yourself a shot. a drink or two wouldn’t hurt, especially when it comes to getting you out of your shell. you’re just about to chuck it back, but an ecstatic tara comes barrelling into the room. “hey, i’ll do one with you!” she exclaims, pouring herself a shot too. “cool.” you respond, tara hurriedly getting herself ready, before counting the pair of you down. “1! 2! 3!” you both down it, tara’s face immediately screwing up while you seem to maintain a calm expression. little does tara know, you’re screwing up just as much on the inside. “how can you- does that seriously not burn or feel weird whatsoever?” tara questions.

“do enough shots in your time and you’ll be the same.” you state, winking at tara. the pair of you talk for a while, maybe even an hour or so before you depart to discover who else is around. you walk into the living room, seeing mindy & anika cuddled up on the couch together. anika spotting you immediately signals for you to come over. both of you having had a few drinks by now, you sink down into the couch beside the two girls.

“you enjoying yourself?” anika asks you excitedly. “yeah, your friend, tara, is a lot. in a good way, though.” you answer.

“you’ve got the best of her tonight I think,” mindy begins, “usually she’s fun-drunk for the first hour or two but then she gets messy. it’s hilarious from the sidelines, but not so funny when you’re taking her home to her sister.”

“anyways, you got your flirt on yet, y/n?” anika teases, with mindy mouthing ‘sorry about her’ over her shoulder to you while you roll your eyes at the question.

“ani, babe, do you really think that I want to get with any of these frat guys? the vast majority of the men at these parties are walking adverts for birth control.” you remark, slightly exasperated. anika had been bugging you for weeks about getting yourself out there.

“can i say, mindy? please please please?” anika pleads with the girl beside her, mindy giving an exhausted nod. “so, don’t say you heard from me-“

“anika, seriously? we’re not in high school.” you cut in, laughing.

“-but, i have on good authority that someone at this party has a crush on you.” anika finishes.

“what she is trying to say is that chad has been asking a lot about you tonight, y/n,” mindy explains, “you also may happen to be his hallway crush.”

“hallway crush?” you ask, curious.

“he’s seen you at blackmore a few times, says he finds you cute-“ mindy gets cut off as tara rushes in. “mindy! anika! shots!” tara shouts, “oh, hi, y/n!”

“hi, tara.” you giggle as the girl shoots past, with mindy & anika in tow.

you remain seated on the couch, as ethan makes his way into the room. “hey.” he says, plopping himself down beside you. “hi. having a nice night?” you ask. “i mean it’s okay, parties aren’t really my thing though.” you turn to face him, “i get it. wanna dance?”

“sure.” he says, smiling at you. seems like a lovely guy, you think as you get up to dance, ethan spinning you around.

you two dance for about 15 minutes or so before you part ways, ethan deciding to take a minute outside to himself. you stumble through the hallway before some random bumps into you, with force, knocking you to the floor.

“hey, dickhead, watch it.” you snap at him, the man turning around. “watch what?” he responds with hostility. “where you’re fucking going? you just smacked right into me.” you continue, glaring at him.

“oh yeah? I don’t give a fuck.” he says. “fucking prick.” you retort. his response? to chuck his drink on you.

“what the fuck? you asshole!” you yell at him, now absolutely drenched. seemingly out of nowhere chad appears, your knight in shining armour. “hey, what’s up? there a problem here, y/n?” he asks you, placing his hand on my shoulder. “yeah, this fucker just chucked a drink on me after basically shoving me to the floor.”

“seriously?” chad asks, and you confirm with a nod, “you think you’re a tough guy, pushing people around? throwing drinks? go take your ass home. now.” chad says.

“oh, yeah? what you gonna do about it if i don’t, man?” the man aggressively asks, stepping up to chad.

“i’ll kick your fucking ass, that’s what.” chad threatens. the man looks away before taking a swing, but chad catches his arm before he can make contact with his face.

“not gonna work.” chad says, still holding onto the guy’s arm, then hitting him with a slap taking him to the floor. the guy quickly scurries away, with you and chad making an escape to the outside as well. you burst out laughing at the guy’s failed attempt, chad practically pulling you with him.

“thank you so much for that, but i could’ve handled it, that was very sweet of you though.” you say to chad through your laughter, feeling cold air of the outdoors wash over your skin.

“yeah, well, just because you can handle it doesn’t mean you should have to deal with it. besides, it’s not like he was gonna actually do shit.” chad responds, as you warmly smile back at him, laughing. maybe you judged too fast, you think, chad showing you that he has more depth than just being some mindless jock.

you spend the rest of your night getting to know chad, finding the twin to be just as funny as his sister and also very kind. and of course, very attractive. it definitely made conversation easier to know he felt the same, even if he didn’t know that you were privy to that information.

as the party starts clearing up, mindy lets you know that she’ll let anika stay at her’s tonight due to your roommate getting herself far too drunk. you’re thankful, knowing that mindy taking anika home means you don’t need to spend the next couple hours holding her hair back as she throws up, nor do you have to deal with her being terribly hungover the next morning. the two girls get themselves an uber, leaving the group of you, tara, ethan, and chad to walk home.

you all talk as a group for the majority of the journey, chad kindly offering you his shirt and wearing his letterman jacket after yours is still soaked from the drink. after hearing of you and chad’s story from the night, tara repeatedly tells the three of you about how she wishes she had seen it, and would’ve ‘kicked the guy’s ass’ herself.

once getting to tara’s place, you and ethan wait outside while chad takes tara up to her sister, knowing full well that sam wouldn’t take too kindly to two strangers knowing where she lives.

“so, chad, huh?” ethan asks, leading you to tilt your head at him in confusion.

“what about him?” you question.

“he’s a pretty cool dude, y’know? very loyal, very loving-“ ethan continues, listing off chad’s positive traits.

“is this you being a wingman, ethan?” you laugh.

“no, i’m not- i mean, yeah, i am. it’s just he’s a really great guy, and i think you should know that, y/n.” ethan says.

“well, i’ve formed my opinion of him already. but that’s nice of you, i’m sure he’d appreciate it.” you say, smiling at the now flustered and blushing boy in front of you.

“um… a good opinion i hope?” ethan shyly asks.

“let’s just say that you guys might be seeing a bit more of me.” you answer, as chad makes his way back out of the building. “tara all good?” you ask.

“yeah, she’s fine. sam isn’t too happy but there’s not really anything i can do to fix that.” he responds. “anyways, we should be getting you home.”

“i can make my way back, don’t worry.” you reassure chad, but he shakes his head.

“no, no, i insist.” chad says, sweetly grinning at you.

“if you say so.”

“um- i think i’m just gonna head back to the dorm, i’m really tired… call if you need me, chad?” ethan awkwardly puts out there, and you feel like you can see chad’s smile grow ever so slightly bigger.

“yeah, that’s fine, man. see you in a bit.“ chad replies.

“we shouldn’t be ages anyways.“ you add. “it was lovely to meet you, ethan!” you say, giving him a hug before turning around and you swear you noticed the end of chad mouthing ‘thank you’ to his buddy.

the two of you walk to your place together, laughing and smiling the whole way, finding yourselves at your door much quicker than you anticipated, and also much quicker than you’d wanted.

“well, thanks again for letting me borrow the shirt and for sticking up for me with that guy earlier, means a lot. um, i can probably get the shirt washed and back to you by tomorrow night-“

“don’t mention it, y/n. suits you better anyways.” chad smiles. you smile too in return, not sure what to say next.

“but, maybe i should get your number just so i can make sure you get back into your apartment safe and sound…” chad trails off, handing you his phone to put my number in and you oblige, slightly giggling at his attempt to be smooth. “so, you already had enough of us four or do you think you’ll maybe consider hanging out with us? or me?”

“no, i’m totally repulsed by the idea.” you reply sarcastically, getting a laugh out of him. “i mean, it’s been a pleasure getting to know you guys. could still do a little convincing on you though, bud.”

chad’s face drops slightly, and you lightly hit his arm. “i’m joking, obviously. you’ve been ever so lovely tonight, chad.”

“i’ve had a really great night, y/n.”

“me too. i’ll see you soon. thanks for walking me back, and goodnight.“ you say before kissing him on the cheek and swiftly making your way into the building, leaving him flustered at the door. you walk back up to your apartment, praying that this was the very first page and not where the storyline ends.

a/n: hope this was somewhat readable. don’t know how to use tumblr super well but will hopefully find my way, and if you read till here i hope you enjoyed!

[thedvilsinthedetails]

Heyyyy…

hey im still figuring out what i wanna be called but for now u can call me Jamie if u want I’m genderfluid as fuck [they/she/he or whatever idegafatp]

some typa aroace spectrum probs grayace & demiromantic also omniromantic - in general I have nothing figured out

so a simp w like a slight preference for men ig but kinda ace most of the time but sometimes very not

neurospicy bitch

writing request status: OPEN FOR MICROFICS RN

I’m a rosekiller loverrr but also a multi shipper so u never know what ur gonna see ig [but probably Rosekiller, Wolfstar, Dorlene, Starchaser maybe some sunkiller if I’m in the mood etc] for the record just bc I don’t ship smth doesn’t mean I support hating it even as a joke [translation: prongsfoot is chill leave them be]

if u don’t like smth, just ignore it, if u send me hate I’ll reply w shitty jokes probs

my dream job is to be an actor [screen actor specifically]

Media I like:

Fav TV stuff: Challengers, Gravity Falls, Cruella, 10 things I hate about you, into the spiderverse

Fav author is @neil-gaiman also that man is my idol so I’ll probs reblog him a shit ton [do u think he’ll like…mind that I tagged him? Sorry if this bothered u Neil!!!] Music [uhhh changes all the time tbh but for rn]: The Neighbourhood, Olivia Rodrigo, Conan Gray [Kid Krow phase rn], Chappell Roan, Renée Rapp, Green day, Ricky Montgomery, NOAHFINNCE, MARINA and Hozier

Spider-Man. Fucking love Spider-Man.

One thing to note about me tho: obvi I love recommendations but I find starting literally any new forms of media really fucking daunting for no reason [this is everything: songs, movies, books etc]

e.g. I fucking love spider verse but I still haven’t watched movie 2, same w latest season of young royals, same with even like ONE song alone I find it rlly hard and really scary

so if u give me recommendations and I don’t get back to u about them for ages it’s not bc I forgot or i was ignoring u but bc I find it scary so pls be patient :)

also same w please don’t like assume I’m knowledgeable about like any of the music artists I named earlier bc tbh I don’t rlly listen to artists I listen to songs [im still a fan of a lot of music artists ofc but the artists I listen to ≠ the artists I’m a fan of]

HI! welcome to my crazy blog, I love making friends im not at all scary I promise :D

Btw my inbox is ALWAYS open for spam, ship ramblings [even if it’s not smth I ship], info dropping about ur hyperfixations, venting, questions etc. [the only thing is no illegal ships bc it will be ignored] also sorry pre warning im shit with the inbox chains [‘send this to ten people who…’] so often I won’t answer those sorry, anything else I will make sure to answer but the chains I sometimes just forget about sorryyy

Barty Crouch Jr & James Potter kinnie

got a FAT crush on Evan Rosier [he’s the loml he just doesn’t know it yet] and also a crush on Dorcas Meadowes

I write sometimes:

I fell for you like glitter on stage - rosekiller band au, this was a microfic series on tumblr that I posted on ao3 for convenience [words: 4548] [this is my fav thing I’ve ever written lol]

we are all just prisoners here of our own device - Jegulus, a oneshot on ao3 based on the song ‘hotel California’ by the eagles. [Words: 6162]

Oh where do we begin? The rubble or our sins? - ON HIATUS. Roman Empire Jegulus au with side Rosekiller, Wolfstar and Pandalily on ao3 [words: 6141] [currently I don’t want to write Jegulus - the hyperfixation hath faded]

also I’m in a marauders RP as Barty and u shld follow it bc we’re all super cool and funny and amazing and awesome and yeah @bartythebabygorljr

tags you’ll see on my page:

me and my old black biro > writing tag

Im in love with that Rosier boy > [this is a new one] me having a massive crush on Evan Rosier

the most boring soap opera > my life tag

I have an online diary called @miseryoforpheus if ur fascinated by my charming and irresistible personality

[The song at the bottom of my intro post changes all the time depending on how I’m feeling]

THIS BLOG SUPPORTS PALESTINE

THIS BLOG STANDS WITH UKRAINE

THIS BLOG THINKS JK ROWLING HAS A NEGATIVE QUANTITY OF BRAINCELLS

[tabithatwo]

Can I ask why you don’t like this new season of yj? No hate or anything, I’m just genuinely curious

I’m so tired and probably won’t be very coherent but that’s okay there’s like six more of these in my asks if I want a second more thorough answer tomorrow lol but a lot of how I feel is in posts on my blog and I’ll just talk mostly 2x08 here. I’ve been hanging on tight until this episode but it has BROKEN me. Like I’m in mourning lol. To anyone who likes it I’m so happy for you I’m not coming for you at all.

But to me the main issue I’ve had is how they have constantly had opportunities to go DARK and SHOW the devolution but they played it very fucking safe (the makeup being the catalyst, Shauna’s birth being truly the safest option possible, like an episode of call the midwife except a fucked up dream happens, etc) and there was no actual build to the level of violence and depravity (or even RELIGION BUILDING) that the card draw sacrifice calls for. The ate Jackie because she was already dead and the wilderness slow cooked her, they were all mourning the baby last episode, they showed us Misty feeling potentially genuine remorse and guilt for Crystal? The “cult stuff” up until now has been mostly fucking dbt techniques and self harm. Yes the shauna lottie last episode was intense but we got absolutely zero follow up on it in any real characterization way for shauna this episode.

Then they kicked us out of the room when the decision was being made and I PROMISE people who think that was a shit move are largely not thinking they needed to explain the card game. It’s about showing your characters in pivotal huge moments. Yellowjackets is advertised and set up in s1 as a psychological horror. I want to see the characters GRAPPLE with things in a psychological horror. Seeing how they got from point a to point b isn’t about understanding the rules of their game, it’s about seeing developed characters reactions to crazy fucking shit.

Instead we get a jump straight into everyone drawing a card and the group deciding to kill one of their two hunters. Would some be on board with no questions asked? sure, but to ask the audience to believe that it just Makes Sense that they landed here after being very fucking relatively TAME all season until that one fight (I was so scared after that scene and no one reacting that this is the jump they were making, based on one moment alone and I was so sad to see it happen lol) is a big ask.

Now add on top of that the way they’re cutting us out of the actual character driven moments. That wasn’t psychological horror, that wasn’t delving into characters psyches like we’ve been promised. It was a thriller moment, change on a dime, maybe for shock value I guess. To me that interim would’ve been a very hard scene to write, a glimpse even of them deciding and reckoning with this belief and darkness in themselves. It’s a large group with a lot to juggle and big messy dynamics. And the easy way out of that is to just not show it at all.

People keep saying “they don’t have time to develop things this season because of side plots.” But they CHOSE to have those side plots in the first place. They’re filling shit in because they don’t WANT to get into the nitty gritty. We watched musical theater and cops and whatever the hell else and whatever. Fine. Sure. But it isn’t that those plots magically overtook some extra brilliant deep moments that they planned on showing with these characters to actually WITNESS their devolution, like s1 set us up to expect. They added them to fill empty space.

I GET that they become brutal. I GET that they devolve. I UNDERSTAND that from moment fucking one. The draw of the show to me is not watching them chase someone. We got that in the first scene. It’s seeing HOW they get there. What has to happen to get them to that place AND how does it impact each main character. Don’t just list the bad things for me. Show me their reasoning and their religion building and their arguing and their giving in. That’s what the real story is to me. Because we just saw them do their first ritual kill, but we didn’t see much more DEPTH to it, with these characters that we’ve now spent 18 episode getting to know, than the pilot already showed us.

1 am ramblings please forgive confusing turns of phrase or typos lol

[ilovewriting06]

A Well Kept Secret

This is not a request this is an idea I came up with and it wasn’t supposed to be this long but I started writing and just couldn’t stop. Please let me know how it is it would mean a lot. Warnings: smut mxf, oral (m and f receiving), slight choking, praise kink, sir and commander kink, a little bit of dirty talk, teasing, and probably more that I can’t remember lol

I leaned back in my seat all but shaking with excitement and nervousness as the speaker over the intercom announced that we would be landing momentarily and to buckle out seat belts. As the plane landed I looked at the shining diamond laced wedding band sitting on my ring finger all alone.

After I got my bags I waited outside the airport for the taxi that I had called, as I was waiting I closed my eyes and smelled the salty ocean air. God I missed this. Once the taxi pulled up I loaded my bags and then hoped in the back seat buzzing with a mix of emotions. Once I told the driver where to go I leaned back in my seat and enjoyed the view of the island I’ve heard so much about. Although I looked calm and maybe a little anxious on the outside a thousand questions were circling their way around my mind. What if he isn’t happy to see me? What if he forgot about me? Does he still love me?

The questions I had left my mind as the taxi pulled up to the Palace. I handed the driver money and got my bags out of the trunk before taking a deep breath and walking towards the entrance pulling my suitcase with my carry-on strapped to the bars behind me. As I entered the building many people looked in my direction but I ignored them as I walked to the front desk.

The woman sitting there looked at me with a questioning look while eyeing up my bags before asking, “How may I help you?”

I smiled nervously before saying I’m looking for 5-0 headquarters. She smiled and said they’re on the third floor and I’d be happy to give you a visitors badge but those will need to stay down here.” I looked down to my luggage and realized how bad that must look pulling a suitcase into the headquarters of 5-0. I smiled and nodded before saying, “Of course, I’m sorry I came straight from the airport and didn’t have anywhere else to put my luggage.” She relaxed a little before smiling and said, “That’s quite alright, let me take those to the back until you come back for them and I’ll get you a visitors badge. I’ll be back in just a moment.”

As I watched her walk away with my suitcase I spun my ring in circles out of nervousness and excitement while tapping my foot. True to her word she came back within a couple minutes with my badge and said, “Just get in the elevator hit floor three and walk through the glass doors and you’ll be at your destination.” I all but bounced on the balls of my feet as she handed me the badge before spinning around and hurrying to the elevator.

When the doors opened I stepped out of the elevator and was standing in front of two glass doors. I put my hand on the handle before taking a deep breath to try and calm the butterflies rampaging around in my stomach before pulling the door open and stepping inside.

As I walked forward I saw the 5-0 seal on the ground and smiled a proud smile before continuing on to find three people standing around a smart computer none of whom I was looking for. I wrung my hands nervously before clearing my throat earning the groups attention. As they looked at me curiously I looked at them before swallowing and saying, “I’m looking for Lt. Commander Steve McGarrett.” The blonde man went to answer before a voice from behind me interrupted him by saying, “That’s me, how may I help you today ma’am?”

I turned around to look at him and watched as recognition lit up his eyes. I took the chance to get a look at him, he looked the same yet different, he seemed more depressed than the last time I saw him. I swallowed hard trying to fight back the tears as I knew I was partially to blame for that.

He looked at me with disbelief in his eyes before cautiously taking a small step forward as he choked out, “Y/N?”

I smiled as my lips trembled holding back the sobs that were threatening to escape as I said, “Yeah, Stevie it’s me.”

I watched as the tears that were shining in his bright blue eyes started to overflow and before I know it I’m in his arms with my head tucked in his neck with my arms wrapped tightly around his waist and one of his arms encircling my waist and the other holding the back of my head as he buried his face in my hair as both are bodies shook with sobs.

After a few minutes we pull apart and he studies my face as if he’s memorizing it like it’s the last time he’ll see it and I’m quickly reminded of why I didn’t wear makeup today.

After a few seconds of looking me over in my simple jean shorts, flowy white tank top, and flip flops he grabs my face and pulls me in for a long overdue kiss. As are lips melded together our tears mixed together as we started crying out of joy glad to be back in the others arms.

When we pulled apart he said, “God you don’t know how much I’ve missed you.” And then his face paled slightly as he swallowed before asking, “Is it over or do you have to leave again?”

A smile broke through on my face as I nodded my head before saying, “It’s over Steve. I’m back. For good.”

I watched as the smile I missed so much graced his face before he pulled me into another quick hug and a peck on the lips before saying, “Thank God.”

Our celebration was cut short when the blonde I had briefly met earlier asked, “What the hell is going on?”

Steve and I glanced at each other before facing the three people still standing in their spots looking at us like they just saw a dinosaur rise from the dead. Steve cleared his throat before wiping his eyes and saying, “Danny, Chin, and Kono,” as he said each name he gestured to them to let me know who was who, “I’d like you to meet Y/N…..my wife.”

The response was filled with questions and wife flying from everyone’s mouth. As Steve tries to quiet them down they only seemed to get louder so he finally straightened up before yelling, “QUIET!” I looked at him biting my lip as my eyes darkened a little remembering just how hot he was when he was dominant. He made eye contact with me and when he saw me biting my lip I watched as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back a little trying to control himself. To everyone else he looked annoyed but I knew that he was really trying to keep himself from taking me right here.

After he calmed down he said, “Now we’re all going to calm down and then you can ask questions which Y/N and I will be glad to answer. Everyone nodded their head as they gathered closer together in front of us.

Steve looked and said, “Danny.”

Danny looked between us and said, “When did you get married?”

Steve and I looked at each other before smiling and he answered, “We got married three and a half years ago on November 8th.”

Everyone looked shocked before Kono spoke up and said, “If you’re married where’s the ring boss.”

I looked at Steve before smiling and saying, “Ah that reminds me.” I pull the necklace out from under my shirt to reveal a sparkling black band. I took the necklace off and slid the ring into my hand before grabbing his left hand and placing the ring where it belonged. He looked at me and smiled before unzipping one of the many pockets on his cargo pants and pulling out the shining diamond engagement ring he used to propose to me four years ago. He gently grabbed my hand and slid it back onto my finger and a small clink was heard when it hit my wedding band. I looked at my hand in the light and smiled as I was reminded of the night he proposed.

Steve smiled and held up our hands before saying, “Right here.”

Everyone looked at each other before Danny spoke up again saying, “Okay I think I can speak for all of us when I say, I have absolutely no fucking clue as to what is going on.” Everyone nodded their head in agreement to signify they agreed with Danny.

I looked at Steve before saying, “I’m starving, how about we tell them everything over lunch?” Steve nodded in agreement knowing that if I got to hungry I got extremely moody.

As we walked out of the building with Danny, Chin, and Kono following us like puppy dogs everyone watched curious as to who I was and why I was with the infamous Commander. I was walking with my hand grasped in Steve’s until I stopped abruptly face palming making Steve look at with a questioning look. “My suitcase is still in there.,” I said as I gestures towards the building. Steve chuckled before leading us back to the front desk. As we waited there for the receptionist a friendly looking man passed by saying hello to Steve before looking at me curiously since I was tucked securely into Steve’s side with my arms wrapped around his waist. I pulled away from Steve before offering my hand as I said, “Sorry, I’m Y/N McGarrett, it’s lovely to meet you.” He looked at me to Steve to back at me. Steve chuckled before saying, “Duke this is my wife.” The man’s eyes widened as he verified that he did in fact hear Steve correctly.

After another thirty minutes I was all but begging Steve to leave as my stomach was greatly protesting at how empty it was. Steve payed no mind to me as he talked to Duke. I furrowed my eyebrows as I stepped closer to Steve to whisper in his ear, “Steve I’m hungry and tired, but more importantly I’m fucking horny and watching you gesture wildly with your hands when I know just what they can do to me is not helping. I haven’t had sex in two and a half years and I swear if you don’t hurry up I will find somebody else.” I pulled away and smiled politely at Duke and walked over towards the group of 5-0 members that too wanted Steve to hurry up so they could figure out the story between us. I watched as Steve kept side-eying me while he desperately tries to get out of the conversation as he was now worked up wanting to go home but knowing he had one more thing to take care of before he could take care of his wife. Steve finally got out of the conversation and all but pulled me out the door with my suitcase as he yelled over his shoulder at his team to meet us at Kamekonas.

When Steve had opened the door for me and then got in the truck himself he quickly started the drive. Before he even got out of the parking lot he already had his hand on my thigh and slowing inching his way up to my crotch. I grabbed his hand to pretend I had no idea what he was doing and that I innocently wanted to hold his hand. When he glanced at me and saw the innocent look in my eyes he let out low groan before shifting in his seat trying to find a position that relieved the tension in the front of his pants. He looked at me again before groaning out and saying, “God I hate when you do that.”

I looked at him innocently and asked, “Do what?”

He again groaned before saying, “You know what. You’ve always had that damn ability to look so innocent when I know you’re not and it drives me crazy because all I can think about is,” he cut himself off with yet another low groan before I continued for him, “Can only think of what? Me, kneeling in front of you sucking you off while I look up at you with your hand tangled in my hair and my nails digging into your thigh as I moan around you and maybe if I’m allowed I’m touching myself to get some form of friction?” When I finish my sentence I bat my eyelashes innocently just like I do when I suck him off. He moans loudly while his hand squeezes my thigh as he’s trying not to lose control as he stuttering out a broken yes. I hummed before leaning over and whispering in his ear, “Don’t worry baby as soon as we get home I’ll suck you off, I promise.” As I sit back in my seat I gently brush my hand across his hard on putting just enough pressure to give him friction but not enough to help his situation. He throws his head back before saying, “Do we have to go? Can’t we just go home?” I shot him a look that told him absolutely not he huffed before putting both hands on the steering wheel to try and ground himself.

When we pull up to the food truck I see that it’s a shrimp truck and all but run out of the truck and stand in front of the truck waiting on Steve while I’m bouncing excitedly. When he gets out of the truck I see him fixing his pants to try and hide his hard on. When he gets to me he chuckles before saying, “I thought you would like it.” I nod enthusiastically before I hear Danny say, “I assume she likes shrimp.” Steve laughs and says, “I’d say so, for like a month that’s all she would eat because she had never had it before, that’s what I’ve heard anyways she did that when she was like six.” Danny chuckled before heading over to the truck to order. I follow Steve over and he asked me what I wanted, I looked at all the options and I couldn’t choose, “Surprise me.” I kissed him on the cheek before slipping into a picnic table close by.

Within a few minutes everyone was sitting at the picnic table with me and Steve on one side and the other three on the opposite side. I quickly realized there was an extra presence and looked to the side to see a big guy wearing a red apron with his face on a shrimp. I looked at Steve quizzically before he said, “These three spilled the beans so now he’s here for the story too.” You nodded before Steve slid me a basket of garlic buttered shrimp and I squealed in delight before diving right in. Steve just shook his head while chuckling while everyone else just watched in amazement at the fact that someone so little could fit so much into their body.

After about ten minutes I had ate all my shrimp and I was against Steve’s side with my head resting on his shoulder and his left hand on my knee when I got an idea. I laid my hand on his knee acting as if I just want to touch him when in reality I was up to something much less innocent. My plan was momentarily cut off when Danny said, “Okay, I need to know the story behind you two before I explode with curiosity.”

Steve nodded before starting the story, “About five years ago a new SEAL was introduced to my team. That SEAL was Y/N. She was fresh out of training so I still had a lot to teach her. We both had feeling for one another but we were both too stubborn to admit it, neither one of was wanting to make the first move. About three months after she joined the team a mission went south and everyone was shaken up. Y/N the most as her segment was hit the hardest. Most of the men died except two one of them being Y/N. I know she was blaming herself since she was the newest one on the team. So I made sure she was alright and constantly checked in on her. One night I was asleep when I woke up to heavy breathing and what sounded like crying coming from across the room. It was obvious that it was Y/N since it was only me and her in the room. When I called out and didn’t get a response I was about to get up when I heard her coming to me. When she got to me I could see the tear streaks down her face and the guilt in her eyes. I don’t remember how exactly it happened but one thing lead to another and we woke up in the same bed.” Steve cleared his throat as I slid my hand up his thigh until I was over his bulge and that’s when I started applying pressure making his head snap towards me warning me to stop. I just smiled and continued and watched as his eyes seemed to glaze over with a mix of pleasure and anger and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to move for the next few days. He had stopped talking because he couldn’t get through a sentence without losing his train of thought so I felt a little guilty and continued the story for him. “After that everything took off we started dating and within a year we were engaged. After about six months we got married on a navy ship in the middle of the Pacific. We were happily married until about a month before Steve got here. I was called in one day and told that my contract was going to be extended because they were sending me on an undercover mission. I can’t say much as it’s classified,” I got a scoff out of Danny before he muttered, “As always.” I looked at him and he let out a nervous laugh before saying, “Sorry continue.” I started talking again, “The mission required me to go undercover in an organization that I was instructed to take down from the inside out. In order for that to happen I had to be undercover for a very long time,” by this point Steve was biting his lip to keep himself from moaning and I let a small smirk slip out before continuing, “Before we knew what was happening Steve and I were standing in a Navy aerial base saying our goodbyes, similar to our reunion today except our tears then were not of joy and the ring exchange was a little different. Steve knew that it was killing me that I couldn’t take him with me or talk to him, I wasn’t even allowed a picture. So before I boarded the plan Steve took off his ring and gave it to me before saying, ‘Here take this with you, that way you’ll have a tiny piece of me with you for as long as you’re gone.’” I glanced at Steve to see he was getting a little emotional but I couldn’t tell if it was from the story or from the fact that I was relentlessly teasing him with no hope of release anytime soon, “So in turn I took my engagement ring off and gave it to him so he could have a piece of me with him as well. I wore his ring as a necklace and he wore mine in his pants apparently.” Everyone laughed at that except for Steve who was struggling to keep himself from squirming in his seat.

I looked up as Kono asked, “So how long was you undercover op?”

I sighed before answering, “It lasted for two and half long years, I just wrapped it up three weeks ago.” I stopped speaking because I felt Steve grab my hand rubbing his bulge in a death grip before pulling it away from him. I looked at him and saw that he couldn’t take anymore without giving away what had been happening and I could also see that he was in so much discomfort it was starting to hurt, now I felt bad. I decided to finish up the conversation so I could help Steve as soon as possible. “I was going to call Steve while I was finishing up everything in Washington but I knew that we shouldn’t be reunited over a phone call after not having communication for,” I added in a yawn for extra effect before continuing, “two and a half years.” I yawned again before saying, “I’m sorry guys but the jet lag is getting to me. I think it’s time Steve and I get home, wherever that is.”

After we said our goodbyes Steve fixed himself before standing up to grab my hand and lead me to the truck.

Once we were pulling out onto the road I looked at Steve to see he was pissed. I swallowed my anxiety and apologized, “I’m sorry Stevie I didn’t mean for it to go that far. If I knew-,” he cut me off by glaring at me and yelling, “Shut up!” I closed my eyes and choked down a moan as it was clear that even after two and a half years I was still a hopeless sub that loves to be yelled at and dominated. I rub my thighs together for some friction when I feel Steve grab my knee and pull my leg away from the other so I couldn’t continue the friction.

I let out a whimper before pathetically begging, “Please baby. Just let me have a little friction. Please.” I heard a low humorless chuckle pass his lips before he tightened his hold and shot me a look before saying, “Not a chance in hell babe. You’ll be lucky if you even get to come tonight. You know that would be fun, edge you all night and make you wait till morning to cum.” I let out a whine at the thought of not cumming because I knew if I pushed it to hard Steve would hold to his word and I’d be lucky to make it through the night without ending up in tears begging him for a release knowing that he wouldn’t give me one until the sun was rising, it wouldn’t be the first time and more than likely wouldn’t be the last.

With the fear of no release I returned to my rightful role as the sub and leaned back in my seat trying my hardest not to move or make a sound knowing that if I did either I would add fuel to the fire and make tonight the definition of heaven and hell.

When we pulled into the driveway of a beachfront white house I didn’t even take in the scenery the only thing I was interested in locating was the bedroom, but I had a feeling we wouldn’t make it there for awhile.

As soon as Steve got out of the truck he came around to open my door and I muttered out a thank you while he got my suitcase from the backseat. When we got to the door Steve fished the keys out of his pocket before unlocking the door and all but throwing it open. As expected once I was inside the door it was slammed shut right behind me and promptly locked before he grabbed my hand and pulled me to the living room, my suitcase long forgotten. I watched as he unbuckled his belt and pants and let them fall to the floor along with his underwear. I moaned at the sight of him forgetting just how big he was and with his ‘friend’ standing at attention dribbling precum on his stomach and the floor it looked all the more intimidating. He sat on the couch before beckoning me forward. I took timid steps until I was in front of him. Instead of throwing orders at me he slipped out of his dom role and grabbed my hips before asking, “Are you okay with this Y/N/N? If you aren’t we can stop.” I melted on the inside still amazed at how caring he is but frantically shook my head before saying, “No, don’t stop, god please don’t stop.” Steve smirked and like the flip of a switch he slipped back into his role as dom while I eagerly waited for the next step.

Steve used one of his hands to grab the hem of my tank top and ordered me to take it off. Without another thought I stripped out of my tank top leaving me in a black push up bra, shorts, and a drenched thong. Steve was staring at me with so many emotions in his eyes it was hard to pinpoint all of them but I could make out the longing, lust, love, but my personal favorite, happiness. As he was taking in my newly exposed skin I took the time to throw off my flop flops. In doing so I must have moved to much or done something that wasn’t okay with Steve as I felt his hold on my hips tighten. I looked down with wary eyes to be met with clear blue eyes that were not very thrilled. I gulped before tilting my head in question knowing that saying something without permission would not be good for me. He used his hold on my hips to push me down onto my knees. Once I was on my knees I came face to face with his length. I heard him clear his throat and my eyes darted up to meet his, “Did I tell you to take those off,” he said as he gestured to the flip flops on the floor a few feet away. I shook my head no as I looked down. I felt him grab my jaw in between his thumb and index finger and lift my head so my eyes met his before saying, “Use your words pretty girl.” I blushed under his touch at his words before saying, “No sir.” My answer caused him to close his eyes before moaning. I blushed remembering how much he loves being addressed as sir during times like this, however he didn’t like being called sir while we actually had sex. He claims that me moaning his name meant that I not only really wanted it but that I also really wanted him and as a plus it turned him on even more. I didn’t argue with him when he told me this years ago I just smiled loving that I could moan his name and make him more aroused at the same time.

I was broke from my thoughts when he said, “Good girl,” I blushed hard as he praised me before he continued, “but,” after he said but my eyes widened and my face fell at the thought of not being his good girl. He must have noticed how distraught I was at not being good for him because he cupped my face with both hand pushing my hair back before saying, “That’s not what I meant baby, you are and always will be my good girl,” at his words I smiled so wide my cheeks hurt which in turn caused him to smile before he continued, “I was mentioning that I was promised a blow job when we got home.” I nodded my head while he removed his hands and I lowered my head to his length. As my hot breath hit his cock it twitched in need and leaked more precum.

Before doing anything I looked up at Steve to get permission to which he nodded giving me the green light to continue. In an instant my tongue was running up the underside of his cock before kitten licking his tip which caused him to hiss in pleasure while tangling his hand into my hair before pulling my head back hard so that I looked him in his eyes. When we made eye contact he took a deep breath as he stared into my innocent looking eyes before growling out, “Stop teasing.” “ Yes, sir.” Happy with my response he shoves my head down onto his length causing me to choke on him at the sudden intrusion. After calming my gag reflex I started bobbing my head adding suction for additional pleasure. I was in turn rewarded with a loud moan followed by, “That’s my girl. Always willing to get on your knees for me, aren’t you?” His voice deep with arousal paired with his words caused me to moan around him sending vibrations through him.

Before I know it his hand tightens in my hair as he pushes me further down on him causing him to choke out a groan. I added more suction and bobbed my head faster and deeper knowing he was close. I looked up at him through my lashes knowing it drove him crazy. His eyes met mine and he threw his head back with a throaty moan and within seconds his salty cum filled my mouth. I looked up at him with my mouth full and swallowed once we made eye contact. He groaned and grabbed my face pulling me up to meet his awaiting lips. As the kiss grew more heated he pulled me onto his lap causing me to straddle him. The feeling of his length growing against my thigh caused me to to moan into his mouth. I felt his legs moving under me and wondered what he was doing. My question was soon answered when I heard his belt hit the floor a couple feet away. I slid my hands down his chest to the hem of his dark blue T-shirt before looking in his eyes asking a silent question.

At the okay to remove his shirt I slid back onto the floor earning me a questioning look from the man above me. I payed no mind to him and started lifting his shirt and with every new patch of skin revealed I placed a kiss on his torso until I got to his chest and pulled back to lift his shirt over his head. With Steve’s help the shirt was quickly discarded on the floor next to our other clothes. I leaned back on my knees and cursed, “Fuck,” how the hell is he more fit now than he was back in the navy. He smirked before pulling me back onto his lap.

Once I was straddling his hips he quickly unclamped my bra and threw it before he flipped us so that I was laying under him on the couch. As he hovered over me he looked me over before saying, “How is it that you look even more beautiful than the last time I saw you?” I felt a blush crawl up my chest to my face at the words of his praise. As he continued talking he ran his left hand down my face which I nuzzled into out of both a need and a want. I closed my eyes as he ran his thumb over my cheek before I felt his weight disappear. My eyes snapped open in alarm as I propped myself up on my elbows. I was met with the sight of Steve kneeling on the couch at my feet. “What’s wrong?” His eyes snapped to mine and I swallowed hard scared that he was going to yell at me for talking without permission, instead I was met with a goofy grin, “Just thinking about the best way to take these off.” As he spoke he ran his finger down the crotch of my shorts with just enough pressure to stimulate my clit. I moaned out and my eyes rolled to the back of my head. I looked back down as I felt him lower himself onto my legs. His eyes stared into mine as he unbuttoned my jean shorts with his mouth before taking the fly in his mouth to unzip them. I moaned trying and failing to not break eye contact.

When I made eye contact again he was sitting up to kneel at my feet once again. Once situated he grabbed the top of my shorts and slowly pulled them down while running his hands down my legs. I lifted my hips to help him and when he successfully got them off he threw them onto the floor and then turned his attention to my thong. When he went to pull them down he peeled them from my soaked core. He looked at me before saying, “Jesus princess, did you cum in your shorts?” Ashamed that he knew my secret I looked away from his sparkling eyes. He reached up and turned my head to face him. When we made eye contact he smirked and said, “I’m not mad baby, in fact I feel fucking accomplished to make you cum without any stimulation. I didn’t give you any and I know you didn’t touch yourself because I saw your hands the whole time.”

I blushed and looked away again still feeling embarrassed. “Trust me baby there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, it’s honestly hot.” I looked at him to see if he was lying but I saw the sincerity in his eyes along with the fact he was staring at my core with little to no blue left in his eyes.

Once he met my eyes he knelt back before spreading my legs. At the sight of my glistening core and wet thighs he moaned, “Holy fucking shit.” I blushed again while he picked up my right leg. He kissed my ankle and slowly worked his way up to my core but instead of touching me he ignored it and kisses down my other leg causing me to squirm in need. When he kissed his way back up he slammed my hips down with his hands hard enough that I knew there would be bruises in the morning which caused me to release a moan knowing that there would be many more before morning. Once he pinned my hips down he started kissing the inside of my left leg right above the knee but instead of sweet innocent kisses like before he was sucking and biting marks into my skin. When he was satisfied with his work he moved to my other leg and continued his pleasurable torture. The more marks he left the louder my moans got and the heavier my breathing got. By the time he was satisfied with his work I was a panting moaning mess. Instead of stopping like I thought he would he continues his way up to my hip before sucking a mark there right above his thumb that was holding my down and then switching over to my other hip to leave a matching mark. When satisfied with those marks he kissed right below my belly button before sucking and licking his way up my abdomen. By the time he reaches my boobs my abdomen was scattered with multiple marks . When he got to the underside of my boobs he left a sweet kiss under each one before turning his attention to my right boob. He swirled his tongue around my nipple before biting it and pulling it back causing me to arch my bag and let out a pleasures scream. When he released it he kissed it before doing the same thing to my other boob. When he was satisfied with his ministrations he sucked his way across my chest leaving a few more marks until he landed on my collarbone. Once there he bit and sucked his way to the base of my neck where he sucked the biggest mark yet onto my neck. As he made his way up he left more marks until he reached my ear. He took my earlobe into his teeth before slowly pulling away and then pulled back a little to hover over my face.

By the time he was done me throat was raw from the moans and screams that he pulled from me no doubt them being the reason he took his time. I looked into his face with tear filled eyes, panting. He cooed when he saw the tears that were slipping down my face, “What’s the matter sweet girl?” I choked out a sob before begging, “Please!” He smirked before asking, “Please what, baby? Use your words, tell me what you want.” I shook in need while saying, “Touch me, please, Steve, please touch me!”

“Baby, I have been.”

I cried out in frustration before shaking my head, “No.” I knew he wanted me to say it but I couldn’t get the words out.

His gaze hardened at my defiance, “What do you mean no? Do you want a release or do you want me to go take a shower, alone?” I nodded my head and then shook my head at each question. He looked at me intensely before saying, “Then tell me where you want me.”

I let another sob rack my body as I stuttered out, “M-my pussy.” He looked at me with a raised eyebrow unsatisfied with my answer I cried out again, “Yours, you’re pussy.”

He smirked as his hand traveled down to cup my core before he asked, “What do you want? My fingers? My mouth? Or both?”

I whimper because I know he knows what I want. I take a shaky breath before saying, “Both.” He grins like a Cheshire Cat before sliding down my body until his mouth is positioned in front of my dripping core. With his hot breath on my throbbing core I throw my head back as my legs shake. He uses his hands to hold my legs open before he uses his nose to rub my clit. I know he wants one more thing before he gives me what i want so I give it to him, “Please baby, please touch me, let me cum I swear I’ll be a good girl. Please.” I cried out the last part and without another second Steve’s mouth is on my licking up all arousal and my eyes roll to the back of my head and I grab onto his hair as I let out the loudest moan I’ve ever heard. At the sound of my moan Steve groaned into my core causing my legs to shake. Steve shoves his tongue into my tight hole circling it and moving it from side to side inside me before latching on to my clit earning a scream out of my raw throat. It didn’t take long before the knot in my stomach was tight and I was close. Steve must have felt it because he shoves his middle and index finger into me hitting my g-spot on the first try. I open my mouth in a silent scream as my legs shake. He pulls back just enough to say, “Cum for me princess.” I pull his hair as I release so hard on his fingers I can tell that I just squirted all over his hand and mouth. He lets out a groan as he licks my clit to help me ride out my high.

My sweaty skin is sticking to the leather as I reach for Steve. He slips out of his role as dom and crawls up my body with his hair spiked up in a thousand different ways and his chin shining with my cum. He smiles before licking his lips and kissing me. I grab his shoulders and pull him down closer to me until our chests are squished together. I take one of my hand and run it through his hair as I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him down until his cock is rubbing against my folds. He pulls away smiling before saying, “Damn woman, already?” I smile before pecking his lips and saying, “Mhmm, I better get at least two more orgasms before we’re done, and if you can go as long as you used to you’ll have time to give me three.” He smirked as he took that as a challenge before saying, “I’ll make sure to make it four before the nights over.” I smile and chuckle before saying, “You better get to work you have three to go.”

Steve props himself up on his hands as I use my hand to guide his length to my entrance. Before he continues he asks, “How long has it been since something this big has been in you?” Sure I’ve used toys but none that were close to the size of him and from the look on face he can tell. He brushes a strand of hair out of my face before saying, “It’s going to hurt, so if it get too much let me know.” I smile at the fact that after what just happened he’s still concerned about me. I take his hand and kiss his wrist before saying, “I know baby, I’ll be okay.” He still looked concerned but he nods his head before dipping down to kiss me. As he kisses me I feel the head of his cock stretching me more than I’ve been accustomed to for two and a half years. I slam my eyes shut and dig my nails into his shoulders at the sting of the stretch. I whimper and little as he continues and he starts praising me to take my mind off the pain, “Look at you baby, taking me so good like the good girl that you are.” I moan as he stills in me when all of him is in and the pain starts to subside. I open my eyes to see Steve holding himself back. I know this has to be hard on him he hasn’t had anything besides his hand for almost three years.

I pull his head down to me and kiss his lips and then leave little kisses up his jawline until I get to his ear. I take his earlobe into my mouth similar to what he did earlier before whispering, “It’s okay baby, I’m okay, you can let go.” He takes a shaky breath as I continue down his neck until I hit his sweet spot right below his jaw. He lets out a moan before choking out, “I don’t want to hurt you.” God I love this man, “It’s okay Steve I trust you.” He nodded before he started moving slowly I dug my nails into his back and bit his shoulder to keep from making pained noises knowing it would make Steve stop. He noticed anyways and stopped and I shook my head before muttering against his neck, “Keep going, the pains almost gone.” Which wasn’t a lie I was starting to get a taste of the pleasure I know him and him alone can give me. He nodded and continued and within a minute my pained grunts turned into pleasure filled moans. At the change of my noises he started moving a little faster. I grabbed his hair towards the base of his neck before moaning, “Faster, go faster.” He quickly obeyed and picked up the pace causing me to run my nails down Steve’s back and from the hiss that left his mouth I definitely left red marks and possibly a little blood. I would have apologized but I know he likes it.

As Steve rails me into the couch his dirty talk and praises don’t die down at all. “Look at you baby. Your hair sprawled all over the place and your face glowing. You’re absolutely beautiful.” “That’s my good girl taking me so good.” “I bet you’ve thought about this for a long time haven’t you. Planning how you were going to get me all riled up and fuck you till you can’t walk.” “You’re so fucking tight.”

I moaned out while throwing me head back leaving my throat vulnerable, Steve saw the opportunity and took it. I choked out another moan as Steve applied just the right amount of pressure to my throat for my climax to hit full force. Steve groaned as I tightened around him causing him to bury his face in my neck. Steve rode out my high and kept going. Within minutes I was close again and I could tell he was too. His thrusts got sloppier and his breathing changed to panting. I wrapped my legs around his waist and kissed him while I pulled his hips down into me harder causing him to let go and filling me with his cum as I fall over the edge again. Steve rides out both our highs before collapsing on me but holding himself up enough to not squish me.

After a couple minutes of soaking in the bliss of our climaxes and the feeling of being in each others arms. Steve propped himself up to look into my eyes as his blue eyes looked into my Y/E/C eyes he smiled a love filled smile before kissing me like we kissed on our wedding day, short and filled with love. When he pulls away he says, “I love you, so much that it hurts.” I smile and wrap my arms around his neck and answer, “I love you too, and it hurts me too but it’s the best kind of pain I’ve ever felt.” He chuckled and kissed my nose before sitting up and sitting at my feet. I quickly get up and crawl on his lap and lay my head on his chest and listen to his racing heart. He wraps his arms around my waist and I realize something and sit up and look in his eyes with a mischievous look he raises his eyebrow in question, “You still owe me an orgasm.” He smirks before saying, “Oh baby, I’m not even close to finished with you yet, I have two and a half years to make up for.” My eyes widen as he stands up holding me and I cling onto him like a koala bear. He chuckles as he walks up the stairs and to his bedroom. He lays me on the bed before kissing me gently and I know we aren’t about to have sex, we’re about to make love.

(The next morning)

I woke up with my head on a chest and my legs tangled with someone else’s legs. I smile as I remember I’m home where I belong in the arms of my husband. I look up to see he’s still asleep. I kiss his chest before making my way to his neck where I start sucking until I hear him moan. I look up to see his sleep filled eyes staring at me. “Morning Y/N/N.” I rub my thighs together from the sound of his morning voice and feel the sting in between my legs from last night events. I move to lay on the pillow beside him so I can look at him and yawn out a, “Morning.” He smiles and pulls closer with his hand holding me close I wrap my arm around his torso. “So, what are your plans now that you’re done with the Navy?” I think about it before shrugging my shoulders, “I don’t know. I never really thought about that I just thought about coming home to you.”

He looked at me with a look in his eyes that tells me he has a plan and has had it for a little while now, “Well what are your thoughts on joining 5-0?”

I smile wide and excitedly ask, “Really?! You wouldn’t mind?”

“Baby why on earth would I mind? I get to keep you close to me all day everyday and maybe sneak a few rendezvous in here and there.”

I playfully slap his chest before saying, “Steven!”

“Whatttt? I know you secretly love the possibility of getting caught.”

I blush and ask, “When do I start Commander?”

The way he pulls me tighter against him tells me Commander will be entering bedroom talk. I swallow a chuckle when he says, “As soon as you want.”

I smile, “I want to start as soon as I go pee.”

He chuckles and nods. When I go to get up out of bed it’s clear to me that I can stand, barely, but I can’t walk.”

Steve sees my face and sits up and asks panicked, “What’s wrong?!”

I look at him and blush before muttering I can’t walk under my breath, “What? I couldn’t hear you.” I look at him and see that he honestly didn’t hear me. I sighed before saying, “I can’t walk.” He looks at me and a smirk crosses his face as he gets out of bed and picks me up bridle style scrunching his my shirt up to reveal I’m not wearing anything underneath. He smirks yet again and walks to the bathroom, “Maybe you should wait to start 5-0 till tomorrow.” I nod my head while smirking when it registers that he will be working at home won’t be working today.