#but in past days when something like this happens (our schedule is moved or something) one of my coworkers is the first one to complain

[spacebell]

so either I am very chill (with some things) or I let people walk all over me

[wolverigrl]

The first date

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

!Disclaimer! I made some small changes in the last parts! The movie they made is a fictional one about Lady Deadpool. Everything takes place in 2015. Y/n is in her late 20s. Blake and Ryan got married long before and I changed the ages of their and Hugh's kids so it would fit more!

Warnings: none, only some swearing here and there and a bit fluff, not proofread!!

Enjoy!

Previous part

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The early morning breeze was cool as I jogged through Central Park, the soft hum of the city waking up in the background. The familiar rhythm of my footsteps against the pavement was oddly comforting, almost like a meditation. I pulled my black baseball cap lower, shielding my eyes from the rising sun, and zipped up my running jacket a bit more. My leggings clung comfortably to my legs, and I felt grounded, my mind clear, my body moving with ease.

Jogging here had become part of my routine, a way to escape for a moment. The quiet mornings felt like a reset. As I slowed my pace and started walking toward the park exit, my breathing still steady, I noticed two people approaching from the side, their faces lighting up in recognition.

"Excuse me... are you y/n?" the guy asked, his voice a little shaky with excitement.

I smiled softly, adjusting my cap. "Yeah, that’s me."

The girl next to him looked at me with wide eyes, already fumbling for her phone. "Oh my God, we are big fans! Can we take a picture with you?"

I chuckled, nodding. "Of course, let’s do it."

We huddled together, her phone snapping a few pictures. The guy, who looked like he was around his early twenties, lingered for a moment longer, hesitating before speaking.

“You probably hear this all the time." he began, "but you really inspired me. I’ve always wanted to act, but I didn’t have the courage to pursue it. Seeing you do what you love gave me the push I needed so I just joined a local theater group."

For a moment, his words hung in the air, and I felt a rush of warmth. It wasn't every day someone said something so meaningful.

"That’s amazing! I’m so glad I could inspire you. Keep at it, okay? It’s tough, but if it’s your passion, it’s always worth it."

He nodded, his face full of excitement and we hugged each other as a goodbye. As they walked away, I called out, “You made my day! Love you guys!” Their faces lit up even more, and I couldn't help but feel grateful for moments like this.

This encounter left me with a good feeling, and as I walked back home, I couldn’t help but feel lighter. Connecting with people like that reminded me why I started this journey in the first place.

Back in my apartment, I kicked off my shoes and collapsed onto the couch. My mind wandered to everything that had happened over the past few days—work, interviews, photoshoots—but one thing stuck out more than the rest: Hugh. I had been thinking about him more than usual, and after yesterday’s intense moment, it was hard not to.

Still, before I let my thoughts drift too far, I got got into the bathroom for a quick refreshing shower. After that I changed into a comfy office look, grabbed my phone and dialed my parents. I hadn’t caught up with them in a while, and I missed hearing their voices.

“Y/n! Pumpkin! How’s our superstar?” my mom’s voice greeted me on the other end.

I smiled, sinking into the cushions. "Super busy, as usual. But everything’s going well. I'll have a meeting with the team today. lots of interviews coming up."

We chatted for a while about my schedule, how they were doing, and the usual family updates. I purposely avoided mentioning anything about Hugh. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell them, but I wasn’t ready for that conversation yet. Not when things between us were still so undefined.

After saying goodbye, I got up to get ready for my meeting at the office. As I was applying a bit of makeup, my phone buzzed on the counter. Hugh’s name appeared on the screen.

HUGH: Good morning, beautiful❤️ How's your day starting?

I couldn’t help but smile as I typed back, already feeling my heart speed up a little.

Y/N: Good morning handsome🥰 Doing pretty good so far. Just came back from my morning run. How about yours?

Almost immediately, his reply came through.

HUGH: I still don’t know how you can enjoy running😅 Mine's good too. Picked coffee with a friend and now we're at his house already working.

Y/N: Maybe you're just getting old?👀

HUGH: Why so mean? Did you trip on your run?

I snapped a quick selfie in the mirror with my tongue out and send it to him.

Y/N: I'm not mean. It was a legitimate question. I'm heading to the office now! Wish me luck!😘

HUGH: Looking great as always! And good luck, though you don’t need it. You always kill it sweetheart😘

A moment later, another message appeared, this time with a photo of Hugh, standing in what looked like an unfinished house. He was wearing a tight-fitting shirt, his arms slightly dusted with sawdust, his hair messy in a way that only made him look better. I paused, biting my lip. He looked really good. And my mind, much to my frustration, flashed back to that kiss.

Y/N: Somebody pls call the fire department🔥

HUGH: Lady, stop exaggerating😂

I chuckled, shaking my head. There was something so annoyingly attractive about how casual he was, even when he looked like that. After a few more texts, I realized I had to leave or I’d be late.

The management office was buzzing with energy when I arrived, as usual. I greeted everyone warmly, settling into the meeting room where we began discussing upcoming interviews and events. Everything was going smoothly, just the usual PR talk—until one of the managers, Sam, leaned forward with a more serious expression.

“So, we’ve been thinking,” he began. “The buzz around you and Hugh has been great for both of your images. The movie’s coming out soon, and the fan speculation has been... let’s just say, active”

I nodded slowly, already sensing where this was going.

“We think it would be smart to keep that momentum going." Sam continued. “Even after the release of the movie, we want you two to keep up the appearance of having something going on. Publicly, deny it in interviews, of course. But tease the people a bit more. Keep them guessing.”

I blinked, processing what he was saying. "So, you want us to pretend we’re together, but not really confirm anything?"

Sam nodded. "Exactly. It’ll keep the public engaged, and your fanbases will stay hooked. It’s good for both of you."

The idea sat heavy in my chest. I could see why they wanted it—it made sense from a PR standpoint—but the thought of turning something personal into a game made me uneasy. What if it messed things up between Hugh and me? What if it turned whatever we were trying to figure out into a spectacle?

“I’ll talk to Hugh about it." I said carefully. “And I think it’s best if you reach out to his team as well, just to make sure we’re all on the same page.”

Sam smiled, satisfied. "Good call. Let us know what you both decide."

They nodded, and we moved on to other topics. I was particularly excited when they mentioned a potential collaboration with a fashion brand. Modeling for a brand had always been a dream, and eagerly agreed.

After sorting out some paperwork, I left the office, my mind still swirling with everything we discussed. As I stepped outside, my phone rang. It was Chris.

"Hey!" he greeted me. "I'm in New York earlier than planned. Are you free?"

Of course, I agreed, and we arranged to meet up at his hotel. Soon, we were stroling through the city together, talking about everything from movies to work. Even though my phone buzzed several times, I ignored it, wanting to be fully present with Chris.

After a while, Chris turned to me with a grin. "So, about those rumors with you and Hugh... anything you want to share?" I felt my stomach twist. Lying to I Chris didn't sit right with me, but Hugh and I had agreed that only Ryan and Blake knew about us. So, I gave him the standard answer.

"We’re just friends,” I said, not quite meeting his eyes. “You know how the rumors go. Our Managers want us to play along because it looks good. That’s all.”

Chris raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced but letting it slide. “If you say so.”

Then, with a sudden shift in tone, he said, “Actually... I’ve been meaning to tell you. I met someone.”

I blinked, surprised. "What? When?"

“Not too long ago. Her name’s Alba. She’s incredible—smart, sweet, talented and down-to-earth. We’ve been spending a lot of time together lately.”

As Chris spoke, his eyes lit up, and I could tell he was smitten. I felt a surge of happiness for him, pulling him into a tight hug. “Chris, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you.”

He smiled, clearly touched by my excitement, and we spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the city, talking about Alba, his family and how things were going. Eventually, I had the idea to skip the pub and order takeout instead. Chris agreed, but only on one condition.

"We have to watch a Disney movie!" He said with eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Deal!" I laughed.

After heading back to my place, we posted a photo of us together on Instagram, and as expected, the comments looded in.

>>ginainabottle: Where's Hugh?😭<<

>>markix69: Y/n always with the dilfs. QUEEN💯<<

>>teddy1xoxo: How is it living my dream?❤️😭<<

I finally checked my messages and saw a few from Hugh.

HUGH: Have fun tonight😘

HUGH: Meeting up already?

HUGH: Everything okay?

Guilt twisted in my stomach and I quickly called him.

"Hey.." I said softly when he picked up. "I'm so sorry I didn't respond earlier. I was just... you know how it is... We've been talking non-stop."

"Y/n it's fine." Hugh replied, but there was something off in his tone. "What've you two been up to?"

I told him everything--how we spend the day walking around, catching up and now were getting ready for a movie night.

"Chris is still here, actually." I added. "We're about to watch The Little Mermaid."

There was a pause before Hugh spoke again, and I could swear there was a hint of something... maybe jealousy? But I brushed it off.

"I miss you." he said, his voice softer now.

"I miss you too." I replied, smiling at he thought of seeing him soon.

"Oh, by the way." I added remembering the management's idea. "My team suggested we tease the fans a bit more online. Even after the movie releases."

Hugh chuckled. "Yeah, we can play around with it. Deny everything but drop a few hints. But what do you think?"

I bit my lip, thinking back to the conversation with my team. "I'm not sure, honestly. I don't want the media or public pressure to affect what we're building between us, you know? But if you're okay with it, maybe we should continue."

Hugh chuckled, the tension easing from his voice. "Like a soft launch, huh? So, we hint at things but never really confirm it?"

"Exactly." I said, smiling at the idea now that it was being said out loud. "We can have fun with it. But still deny things if people ask outright."

"Deal," he said, his tone light again. "Let's tease them a little, but keep the mystery alive."

We both laughed at the absurdity of it, and the playful tone of the conversation helped ease my earlier guilt. Then, Hugh's voice turned a bit more serious, though stillwarm. "By the way... how about gym and breakfast tomorrow? Just the two of us?"

I hesitated, not out of uncertainty but because of how much I wanted it. "Like... our first real date?" I asked, grinning into the phone.

"Yep. Our first official date." he confirmed, the excitement in his voice clear.

"Then, it's a yes!" I said, feeling butterflies stir in my stomach at the hought. "Where should we meet?

We hashed out the details and after a few more minutes of casual banter, we finally said our goodbyes, both of us feeling lighter.

As soon as I hung up, I turned to find Chris giving me a curious look from the couch. "So. first date, huh?" he teased, raising an eyebrow.

I sighed, knowing I couldn't hide it anymore. "Yeah, fine. You got me," I admitted, plopping down beside him. "Hugh and I... there's something going on. But we're keeping it quiet for now. Chris grinned, clearly happy for me. "I had a feeling. And honestly? I'm happy for you. Hugh's a good guy He was always super nice when I had the chance talking to him."

"Thanks, Chris. It's just complicated, you know? With the media and all."

"Yeah, I get it." He said with a knowing nod. "But if anyone can handle it, it's you." He then smirked, his teasing side coming back. "So are you guys gonna do a soft launch like the rest of us normal people, or something more dramatic?"

I squealed and shoving his arm. "What the heck?! He mentioned a soft launch too! What are you? Telepathic?!" And we both bursted into laughter.

We calmed down and shifted our focus back to The Little Mermaid. Chris singing along to Part of Your World with exaggerated enthusiasm. It wasn't long before he dozed off, his head lolling back against the couch. I smiled fondly at him, his mouth slightly open, snoring softly. The day had been a whirlwind of emotions, but it was nice to end it with someone I trusted so much.

Grabbing my phone,I snapped a quick picture of Chris, chuckling to myself as I did and quickly posted the photo to Instagram with the caption:

>>y/n instagram: Disney and chill with my favorite co-star🧜🏻‍♂️<<

The comments poured in almost instantly, but I ignored the notifications, setting my phone on the coffee table and grabbing a blanket to drape over Chris. After making sure he was comfortable, I turned off the lights, heading to my bedroom. I slipped under the covers, the events of the day replaying in my mind. Hugh, Chris, the PR idea and the upcoming date.

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of Chris moving around the apartment. I got up and changed into comfy clothes as I walked into the living room where he was packing up his things, looking like the human version of a Disney prince as usual. As I stretched and rubbed my eyes, he glanced over at me with a soft smile.

“Morning, sleepyhead." he teased, zipping up his jacket. “I’ve got a meeting downtown, but I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”

I sat up and gave him a playful wave. “Didn’t want me to think you snuck out, huh?”

“Exactly. I’m not that kind of guy,” he joked, slinging his bag over his shoulder. Then his tone softened. “Hey, keep me updated on the Hugh situation, okay? I’m curious how things go. And don’t forget to tell me about that first date.”

I smiled, the warmth of his support making me feel even more confident. “I will. Thanks, Chris.”

He leaned down and gave me a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. “See you soon, y/n. And don’t forget, I’m always just a text away if you need me.”

“Will do. Good luck with your meeting!”

With a final wave, he headed out the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts—and a mess of nerves about my first official date with Hugh later that morning. I had no idea what to expect, but I hoped it wouldn’t turn into a disaster.

After Chris left, I freshened up, threw on my workout clothes, and made my way to the gym where Hugh and I had agreed to meet. This wasn’t just a casual workout—it was our first date, so I kinda did a big deal out of it.

When I arrived, Hugh was already there, looking ridiculously good in his gym gear. He waved me over with that easygoing smile that never failed to make my heart race.

“You ready?” he asked smiling down at me.

“I was born ready!" With this Hugh opened the door and let me go in first.

We started with some light cardio to warm up, and things were going smoothly—until we hit the weight section again. I’d watched Hugh easily lift a set of dumbbells like they were made of air, and, in a moment of misplaced confidence, I thought 'Why not?'. I grabbed a barbell and decided to push myself a bit further than usual. The first few reps went okay, but as I tried to push the barbell up again, my arms started to shake. I tried to power through it, but I quickly realized I had overestimated my strength. Just as the weight became too much, Hugh was beside me in an instant. “Need some help there?” he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes. I tried to save face. “I’ve got it, just—just give me a second…” Before I could protest further, he gently but firmly took hold of the barbell, lifting it with ease and placing it back on the rack.

"Yeah, you totally had that under control." he teased, his smile widening. “Okay, maybe I overdid it a little." I admitted, feeling the heat rising in my cheeks.

"No shame in asking for help." he said, giving me a playful nudge. “Just don’t hurt yourself trying to keep up with me.”

I playfully groaned and lightly slapped his chest. He just laughed, pulling me tighter against him, his arms wrapping around my waist. I looked up at him, grinning, my gaze lingering on his lips for a beat too long.

“Do you need a kiss to forget that little mishap?” he teased, moving his face closer, eyes sparkling with mischief.

I smirked, voice dropping to a whisper, “Oh, I’ll need more than one to forget that.”

Before he could respond, I closed the gap between us, pulling him in with my arms wrapped around his neck. My fingers tangled in his messy, sweat-damp hair as our kiss deepened, the heat between us rising instantly. He brushed his tongue over my bottom lip, and I parted my lips, welcoming him further. His hands gripped me firmly at the waist, keeping me pressed tightly against him, while my hands couldn’t stay still, roaming over his broad shoulders and chest. Every nerve in my body felt like it was on fire, completely overtaken by the moment, the world around us fading away.

I didn’t even realize when my hands slipped under his shirt, fingertips grazing his warm skin. But just as quickly as the moment ignited, Hugh pulled back, breathless, his forehead resting against mine.

“We’re only on our first date,” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement, a crooked smile playing on his lips. “I haven’t even given you flowers yet.”

I chuckled softly, my head still spinning, and nodded. “You’re right. We said we wouldn’t rush things… and, well, making out in a public gym might be pushing it. I don’t think our management would be too thrilled if the media caught wind of this.”

Hugh laughed, loosening his hold on me, though his hands lingered for a moment longer. “Yeah, I can already hear the headlines.”

Reluctantly, we stepped back from each other, both grinning, but still feeling that magnetic pull between us.

After that little incident, we wrapped up the workout, and I offered to cook us breakfast back at my place. It was the least I could do after Hugh saved me from total humiliation. But as soon as I started cooking, I realized maybe that wasn't the best idea.

The eggs burned almost immediately, the toast was so hard you could break a tooth on it, and I somehow managed to get pancake batter all over the counter.

Hugh stood nearby, watching the chaos unfold with a mix of amusement and concern.

"I swear, I'm usually better at this." I said, desperately trying to salvage something from the mess. Hugh laughed, leaning against the counter. "Better at lifting weights or cooking?"

"Oh shut up!" I laughed and tossed a burnt piece of toast at him, which he dodged easily.

"You sure you don't want me to handle this?" he asked, his voice filled with amusement.

"Hugh, I already said no. I'm perfectly capable." I said defensively, though the evidence clearly suggested otherwise.

"You keep telling yourself that." he teased.

I flipped another pancake, only to see it land halfway off the pan.

I let out a dramatic sigh, slumping my shoulders in mock defeat. Hugh chuckled and wrapped his arms around me from behind, pressing a quick kiss to my neck. The warmth of his lips and the slight scratch of his beard sent a shiver down my spine, goosebumps rising instantly. I turned my head towards him, and with a soft smile, he said, "Looks like the universe is giving you a day off from cooking. Let’s clean up and eat at the café instead."

Eventually, we gave up on my culinary attempt and decided to head downtown to the next café. We settled into a cozy corner table, ordering some coffee and toast. As the food arrived, I couldn't help but laugh.

"At least this can't go wrong, right?" joked, gesturing to the perfectly normal-looking plate in front of us. Hugh raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't be so sure. With us, anything's possible."

I pretended to look horrified. "Don't jinx it!"

He chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. "So, What do you think of our first date so far?"

I paused, meeting his eyes.

Hugh leaned back smiling. "Well I've gotta say, it's been pretty great so far."

I chuckled, feeling the warmth spread through me. "I agree. Disaster-prone, but definitely memorable."

We spent the rest of breakfast chatting, laughing about the little mishaps from the past couple of hours, and just enjoying each other's company. It, again, felt easy and natural, even with the nerves of a first date hanging in the air.

As we finished up, Hugh reached under the table for my hand and squeezed it gently, giving me a soft look that made my heart skip a beat. "You know, I'm really glad we do this."

"Me too, Hugh." Iadmitted, feeling the same.

Later that afternoon, Hugh and I met up with Ryan for an interview promoting the movie, which finally releases tomorrow. It was just the three of us sitting in a comfortable setup, no live audience, just cameras, and a quiet room. I always looked forward to interviews with Ryan—he had a way of making everything fun and unpredictable.

The interviewer greeted us friendly with a firm handshake and began with the usual questions about the film after introducing us to the already recording camera.

"So, y/n, how did it feel stepping into the shoes of Lady Deadpool?”

I smiled, leaning forward slightly. “Honestly, it was a dream. She’s such a chaotic, yet deeply emotional character. Playing her meant getting to do some wild action scenes while also diving into her personal struggles. Plus, I got to wear a lot of leather.”

Ryan jumped in, grinning. “And kick some serious butt. Let’s not forget that.”

The interviewer nodded and turned to Hugh. “And how about you, Hugh? Wolverine is such an iconic character. How was it returning to the role?”

Hugh smiled, looking relaxed. “It’s always an honor to play Wolverine. This time around, the dynamic with Deadpool—and Lady Deadpool—added a whole new level of fun. The banter, the action sequences, it all just felt... electric.”

Ryan leaned in dramatically. “But let’s be honest. It was terrible. We all hated each other on set!"

Hugh, the interviewer and I bursted into laughter as Ryan continued, completely straight-faced. "No, seriously, it was a nightmare. Every day was a battle I'm surprised we even finished the movie."

"I mean, you were pretty hard to work with.: I teased, leaning into the joke.

Ryan shrugged dramatically. "I do my best to bring chaos wherever I go."

The interviewer then introduced a fun segment: Fan questions pulled from Twitter. “Alright, we’ve got some tweets here from fans. Let’s see what they want to know.”

He read the first tweet aloud. “@MarvelFanGirl asks: ‘What was the funniest moment on set?’ "

Ryan immediately jumped in. “Oh, I’ve got this. There was actually a pretty intense kiss scene between y/n and Hugh in the original cut of the film, but - spoiler alert - it got cut because the film was running too long. Marvel classics." Hugh chuckled, already shaking his head in amusement.

"And I swear by the mother of my children, Blake Ellender Lively!" he dramatically paused. "They just kept going after the director's cut! The crew didn't know if they were still in the scene or... well, if it was method acting, if you know what I mean."

At this point the interviewer started laughing uncontrollably and held his hand in front of his mouth.

I laughed, hiding my face in my hands. “Why do you always bring that up?”

“Because it’s comedy gold!” Ryan laughed, clearly enjoying himself.

"Don't listen to him, Hugh said, grinning. "He's just upset he didn't get a kiss scene."

"Eeeexactly!" Ryan exclaimed, pointing at Hugh. "Where's Deadpool's kiss scene, huh? It's an outrage!"

Even the crew behind the cameras started laughing and the interviewer moved on with the questions, still giggling.

"Ryan, if you could switch roles with anyone in the cast, who would it be?" asked the interviewer.

Without missing a beat, Ryan replied.

"Y/n, hands down. She got the sexiest costume, the coolest weapons, and she gets to kick more butt than anyone else. Plus, let's not forget--she gets to kiss Hugh."

I groaned, shaking my head while Hugh laughed. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

"Never!" Ryan said with a grin.

The next tweet came in, and the interviewer read it out. “@WolverineLover asks: ‘If Wolverine and Lady Deadpool had their own spin-off movie, what would it be about?’”

Hugh pretended to think seriously. “I imagine it would be about trying to stop Lady Deadpool from blowing up everything in sight.”

I shot him a mock-offended look. “Hey, Lady Deadpool isn’t that destructive.”

Ryan snorted. “Oh please, she’d turn the whole thing into a circus. Wolverine would just be there for damage control.”

We all laughed as we moved on to the next question. “@DeadpoolRocks asks: ‘Ryan, how much of Deadpool is actually you?’ "

Ryan grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Oh, about 90%, I’d say. The other 10% is just me trying to look cooler than I actually am.”

As the interview wrapped up, we exchanged a few more lighthearted jabs, and I couldn’t help but feel how much fun we had together. Ryan and Hugh had a way of making every moment a little less serious and a lot more entertaining.

“Alright." Ryan said, standing up as the cameras shut off. “Who’s ready for round two tomorrow?”

I moaned, already dreading whatever he had in store. “I’m not sure my dignity can handle it.”

Hugh laughed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as we walked out. “Don’t worry, I’ll be there to save you. Again.”

“Let’s just hope there are no weights involved this time,” I quipped.

After the interview, we walked off stage, and Ryan clapped Hugh on the back.

"Man, I'm still disappointed they cut the kiss scene. We were all waiting for the slow-motion sparks."

Hugh just laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, I'm sure that's why the audience would come to watch the movie. For that."

Ryan wagged his finger. "Don't underestimate the power of romance, Jackman. Fans live for that!"

I shot both of them a look, trying to keep a straight face. "As long as no one mentions the breakfast disaster, I'll consider this interview a win."

Ryan blinked, clearly intrigued. "What breakfast disaster?"

Hugh grinned mischievously, but before he could spill, I put my hand over his mouth in protest. "Nope! Not happening. What happens in the kitchen stays in the kitchen."

Ryan raised his eyebrows, clearly enjoying my embarrassment. "Im going to get that story out of one of you. Just wait!"

"Ha! You wish!" I called over my shoulder, heading out of the studio with them.

Eventually, we split off, with Ryan going in one direction, and Hugh and I in another, after we said our goodbyes.

Hugh opened the passenger door for me so that I could get in. After my little "Thank you", he closed the door with a smile and sat down on the other side. "My place or yours?"

I kissed his cheek. "Let's go to your place."

With that, Hugh drove off, placing his hand on my thigh as he drove.

Smiling, I looked out of the window and stroked the back of his hand with my thumb. What a day.

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@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild

Next part

Sorry if it's not proofread! Struggled with a migraine today but still wanted to finish this part. But I tried my best! And I hope I didn't confuse anybody with the small changes.

[tyuggyuuu]

Just accidentally.

Pairing Karina x fem!reader 🔞 / fifth member of Aespa

Synopsis Accidentally walking up almost naked to your member hotel room, who is also one of your enemies for years.

Warning contains smutx, dirty talk, cursing, using toys, degrading, petnames (mostly slut,whore, princess) dom!Karina and sub!reader, fingering, toying, striping.

Wc : 1,5k

It was just a normal day, like always, doing your scheduled works and practicing really hard for your concert as the concert was close. While rehearsing, you couldn't stop looking at one member, Karina. It wasn't because you were jealous or anything, like always being envious of someone, but something else was happening today. Yeah, it was captivating to watch how her flawless body moved and her curves seemed to be begging to be embraced.

Just before your eyes could switch their gaze, the girl noticed, and her face flashed into a daring smirk, which she always had whenever she was around you.

Your breath hitches as she steps closer to you. "What are you looking at, princess?" Her words spin your mind, causing you to pause a little. You reply, "Nothing, why do you care? Just do your practice, man!" Moving your body, you face your back to her, but you can still feel her frowning face from behind.

"I know you imagined something, right?" Her smirk appeared again, which you could feel just from behind as you have known her for more than years. "Whatever, Karina, do your practice or else-" you stopped when you felt a hand around your waist. Her hands' softness could make anyone weak, and you being wet was just way too overwhelming. "There was something I thought would hurt you." She took her hand off, making you gasp.

The eyes of both of you didn't even try to look at the other side where poor Giselle was trying to stop your fight for the 100th time. "Stop, guys, not this time. I don't want you two to ruin our day. It's literally the concert, and our fans will go crazy if they notice. Be friendly," she finished.

"Be friendly? With her?? I can't," you scoffed before leaving the two, but Karina gazed at you as you left.

The biggest reason to hate her was that she was dating your crush, even after knowing he was your crush. You hated how you happily told her you liked someone, and the next day you saw her with that man you liked a lot.

But the past is the past. You let them both go, and even after some days, you heard they both broke up. But still, it hits you that she betrayed you. And now it looks like, she doesn't even give a fuck about what she did to you.

The happiness on your face can be seen by everyone when you walk to your hotel room after the concert. You loved your fans so much that you ended up crying a little on the stage after seeing their overwhelming support for you.

You wouldn't believe that the other members were still busy because their schedules were much busier than yours. You usually did things earlier to prevent any inconveniences later for your rest.

(well the over happiness can cause you too forget to much things lmao) spoiler

As you reach your room, you feel the exhaustion from the concert and know you need a quick bath to relax. You turn on the water, and as soon as you step in, the warm water touches your skin, instantly calming you. The steam rises around you, and your muscles start to loosen. It’s a fast bath, but enough to wash away the tiredness and help you feel refreshed.

Before you could relax and enjoy yourself, you heard the doorknob of your room opening unexpectedly at that hour. "Who is it?" you asked, with a relaxed tone knowing that only staff or members could enter, and there were plenty of CCTV cameras to monitor.

"When there was no response to your question, curiosity sparked and goosebumps rose as you stepped out to investigate. "Why are you here, Karina?" you inquired, forgetting to cover yourself as you quickly got up to check.

Your half-naked body glistened in the room, catching her gaze as she couldn't tear her eyes away. Your focus was on her lips, which were inadvertently flirting and biting, leaving you unable to think or act in that moment.

"I should be the one asking you that, you know?" Her words caused you to flinch slightly. You were confused by her statement and asked, "Why would you be the one asking this?" Your eyebrows raised in question, but you couldn't decipher any meaning after a stressful and busy day.

"This is my room," she stated, her eyes fixed on your glowing body. Before you could fully process the situation and look around to realize the unfamiliar surroundings, her hand slid onto your waist. You were only wearing a plain white shirt and panties, causing goosebumps to cover your body.

Her eyes were locked on your lips, and yours on hers. "I might..." she began to say with a hot, deep voice that made you feel aroused and eager to be with her in bed. "Please..." you blurted out, unable to control your desire. You quickly covered your mouth with your hand, but she just smirked, leaving your hand there in a mix of relief and defeat.

The two of you reached for each other's lips the moment you felt the need to be intimate. "Fuck," you mumbled, still able to feel her smirking at your vulnerability. The kiss was more than just a kiss; it was becoming more passionate by the second. The tongue war was intense, and in the end, she emerged as the victor.

"Do you like it?" she asked, one hand on your waist and the other on your ass. You moaned uncontrollably from the pleasure you were receiving as she started to lick your neck and shoulder, giving you hard and wet kisses. "You're so good," you spoke out, the praise only making her more intense as she slapped your ass.

"It will be even better if you strip for me, won't it? You will, right?" Her smirk and dominating tone made you feel submissive in your mind, and you did as she asked.

She sat comfortably on the master bed as she undressed herself and watched you strip for her. "Just wait until I have my way with you, my cute little slut," she said, her words turning you on even more and making you impatient. You got on your knees and crawled to her naked as she spread her legs, asking you to pleasure her, which you did without hesitation.

Her moans grew louder as you pleasured her, your tongue playing with her clit and her pussy. "Damn it, you whore. You know...ahh, fuck, I'm going to punish you for making me feel this good," she said, her breathing interrupted by your intense actions. You didn't stop until she reached her climax, her cum covering your mouth, which you shamelessly licked and swallowed.

"Good girl, now come here," she said, tapping the bed next to her. You lay down, and she went to grab something else.

"You want me to pleasure you more than you want it, right, princess?" She asked, caressing the strands of hair on the sides of your face. Karina stood in front of you with a toy on her waist, her words making you nod quickly in reaction, which caused her to scoff a little at your impatience.

"Mommy, please," you pleaded with puppy eyes as she grabbed your breasts and played with each of them, her other hand down there fingering your holes, and moans escaping your mouth without hesitation.

"Fuck," you whimpered when her two fingers inserted into you and she played with your cunt. "Cum for me, princess, if you need a ride to heaven tonight," she said, her hand moving from your clit to your holes in and out, causing you to reach your climax and cum on her fingers.

She inserted the toy into your walls and started thrusting, causing you to whimper even louder as she was now fucking you with a dildo. "You're so tight, aren't you?" She smirked and began thrusting harder with each motion, making you feel like you were in heaven every second.

"Ah, you, please, make me cum, please mommy, ah, fuck me harder!" You managed to say, the words making her frown before you could release your cum. She stopped and looked at you. "You can't cum right now, You can only cum when I tell you to." You grunted as she inserted it again, both of you moaning and filling the room with your sounds and loudness.

"I want to, ah, please let me," you started to cry and whimper for her to let you cum, but her dominating self wouldn't allow it. "No," she said, making you whimper even harder as she thrust one last time and let you cum for now. After making out for a whole fifteen minutes, you both collapsed on the bed, exhausted. "Are we good now?" You asked as you lay facing each other.

"Only if you pleasure me like this every time I ask you to. I didn't know you were this good sucker," she said, making you chuckle and roll your eyes at her. "You know you're going to get punished if you roll your eyes like that at me," she said, smirking.

[luvrxbunny]

churn

pairing: knight!Miguel O’Hara x princess!reader

summary: Your royal knight helps you in a way your fiancé never could.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader has hair that can be pushed over her shoulder, reader has visible collarbones, infidelity, miguel seems to have a little thing for readers collarbones.. Idk,  f! masturbation, IMPORTANT LINK (ill be refering to this throughout the fic)

wc: 4.9k

a/n: i don't even think this is good guys cry i just needed to post something but i tried ilya 🫶🏾 (not proofread one bit)

He hated this part of the day. 

Miguel isn’t allowed to feel many things, he is even more limited in who he can feel them for, but he hates this part of the day. When you finally finish your chores and duties. You always tell him that you’re not going to get excited this time, that you know he’s busy but he always sees the excitement build in your face as you search tirelessly for your fiancé. 

Ser Isaac was one of the more well-known lords of the land. He’s known for his outstanding looks and entertaining charm. Everyone has heard of his endless generosity, empathy, and care for others. But in Miguel’s experience. He’s a selfish dick. 

He doesn’t hate Ser Isaac, of course not, that’d be treason. He is allowed to hate his actions, however; the way he neglects you. He hates how Ser Isaac is using you for your position, stature, and admiration throughout the kingdom. He spends all his time sucking up to your father, thanking him for his daughter's hand in marriage rather than worshipping the daughter for tolerating his artificiality. 

You round the corner to find your father and fiancé at the bar, once again. This is where they’ve been for the past few weeks. You’d asked them to try to spend less time together, to make some room for you, but they both laughed you off and continued their boisterous chatter. 

Miguel watches your smile melt off your face as you take in their inebriated state. You turn to him for a moment with a small smile, knowing he’ll give you the same pitying look you get every time this happens. It’s a small comfort; knowing that at least one person in your life cares about you, even if that person is your assigned guard.

You approach the pair of drunks with a brave smile. “Have you saved any for me, my love?” The two men pause to look at you before slowly turning back to one another and breaking out into a fit of laughter. Miguel can see your expression flush into one of embarrassment and anger. You open your mouth to speak again but their laughter raises in volume, drowning out anything you would’ve said. 

Miguel sees a heartbreaking sadness flash over your face before you compose yourself. 

In his mind though, it’s the same as you begging him for help, so he steps in. He moves from his corner by the doorway to stand at your side. His presence gives you a small boost of confidence and commands the men to give you more than 3% of their attention. 

Your fiancé is the first one to quit his laughter and sober up a bit. He takes a deep breath and rolls his eyes at Miguel’s presence. “Is he necessary?” He doesn’t even look at Miguel, his eyes don’t flicker in his direction once. Miguel does the same, keeping his eyes forward and surveying his surroundings. He can’t help the slight smirk that worms its way onto his face, however. 

You stand up straighter at the acknowledgment of your muscle. “Miguel is mine, therefore he stays by my side.” Miguel’s eyelids flutter and flicker to you for a moment. He tries his best to ignore the swirling in his stomach but his breathing stutters. “I’d like to confer with you about your schedule, dear.”

Your fiancé smirks maliciously at you before changing it into a faux kind smile. “Of course, sweetheart. I’ll make so much time for you.” He stands up, looming over you but not taller than Miguel. “When I’m finished organizing all of our affairs, paying all your maids.” His voice gains more and more venom as he stalks closer to you. 

Your confident gaze is gone, now looking at the wall rather than your soon-to-be husband. “Yes, dear. I’ll spend time with you when I’m done with cleaning your messes.” His voice raises to a shout, screaming right in your face as your eyes stay on the ground. Miguel’s hand goes to rest on the hilt of his sword, just as a reminder of what could happen if Ser Isaac decides to do more than yell. But that negatively catches his attention. 

He scoffs loudly and turns to Miguel, who still isn't meeting his threatening eyes. “You think to strike me? You?” Miguel hears you take a breath, like you’re preparing to speak up for him but he can’t allow that. “I only mean to protect the Princess, Ser.” Miguel keeps his smirk from crawling onto his face this time, he keeps his expression stoic and straight ahead. 

“Oh? OH? I’ll I have you know that I shall do whatever-” He raises his hand. “I’d like-” 

It comes down toward you “with MY wife.” Miguel grabs his wrist, stopping all movement. You watch his grip tighten before your eyes, so tightly you swear you can hear Isaac’s bones cracking. 

“You will not. Not in my presence, or ever, if I can help it.” You’ll never forget the look on his face. The pure shock on his face, the look of disgust and disdain. You don’t even want to think of Miguel’s face. The anger, and unwavering confidence. He exudes this certain dominance over Isaac that you can’t help but admire.

Isaac’s face shows a look of embarrassment once he sees how easily Miguel can hold him back, so he scoffs and goes back to his seat, grumbling about your ‘big oaf of a guard.’ He complains about the both of you to your father as if you aren’t even in the room. You’re not too sad about it, you’ve grown a bit used to his rejection, and it doesn't sting as bad. 

A clock in the corner of the room catches your eye and excitement runs through you with a soft gasp. Miguel looks over to you and follows your gaze to see the time, 3:00 PM. The swirling in his stomach returns as you clear your throat and begin to leave the room. Although you know Mguel will follow, you keep pace with him once you both exit the room, choosing to walk by his side. 

You’re always different for the next two hours. You linger by him more, find more excuses to touch him and talk with him. He knows why, he knows how princesses like to play their games, how they love all their suitors. But sometimes he slips up, sometimes he believes your advances are genuine, that you honestly wish for him to whisk you away from your castle life, your perfect, royal life. Then he comes back to reality. 

You enter your chambers and stand by the foot of your bed, Miguel by the door. His heart is racing because he knows what comes next. It’s- unfortunately, his favorite time of the day. You stand by your wardrobe, just looking into the mirror before catching his gaze in the reflection. “Mig?” Your soft tone sends a suppressed shiver through his body. “Do you think you could help me?”

He’s walking towards you without hesitation. “I- I’d ask one of the maids but they’re all busy and-” He doesn’t need a justification, you don’t need an excuse. “Of course, Princess. I understand.” You do this every time. Your maids are always ‘too busy’. You both know it's a ruse, but neither of you wants it to stop. 

He lets his hands rest on your side for a moment, relishing the way he can feel you expand with the deep breath you take. He slides them back to where you’re laced into your dress and takes his time untying the strings. You wish you could see his hands, the way they’d thread through the strings, how careful and gentle they’d be. Or how small the strings would look between his thick fingers. 

Once he finishes loosening your corset he opens it for you, reliving the extreme pressure it puts on you and you thank him with a soft sigh. He’s in a trance though, he slowly removes the fabric from your body. Your spine seems to compress itself, making you seem even shorter than usual now that you don’t have this brace forcing you upright. You’re just watching him in the mirror as his hands come up to your shoulders and slowly turn you around. He’s not looking you in the eyes yet, he’s just looking at you. He looks at your collarbones and slowly pushes your hair over your shoulder to reveal more of you to him. But something snaps him out of his trance and he puts distance between the two of you before you even take a breath. “S- I’m so sorry, Princess.I—” You cut him off before he can say more. 

“There's no need for an apology! I didn’t say anything, did I?” There’s a shy flirtiness in your tone that causes Miguel’s face to sink into a dark red color, bringing a giggle to your lips that only worsens his condition. He turns and walks back to the door while you finish undressing. 

He keeps his eyes dutifully out the window. Pretending he can't hear the fabric sliding against your naked skin. How he yearns to look, it's like you have your own gravitational pull. It’s a constant struggle to hear you undressing and redressing yourself into something he knows is going to screw with him. You’ll probably change into your favorite nightgown. It’s an adorable sleeved gown with feathers at the top. You always mention you don’t like how long it is, and that it’s “unflattering” but in truth, everything you wear is flattering. You make it so. 

Miguel suddenly becomes aware of the silence in the room. No rustling, no sliding fabrics. He risks looking over at you and his heart almost beats out of his chest. It’s new. You must’ve gotten it tailored because he’s never seen anything fit you so well. It’s a night dress, flowy but short, very short. It barely reaches the halfway point of your thigh. It has no sleeves, your neck, collarbones, and shoulders on full display, and the top hugs your breasts in a way he’s never witnessed. 

You watch him admire you for a moment before speaking up with a soft “Hmm?” and his eyes fly to yours. “I think it’s quite cute!” You smile at him brightly, waiting for his opinion. He doesn’t give you one though, he just stares at you for a little longer. You grow conscious under his stare and anxiety begins to eat away at you. “W- What do you th—” 

His face twitches before he blurts out. “Yes. Yes, you look-- It’s very- You look very cute. It’s beautiful. You- You look amazing, Princess.” His sentence ends with a sharp inhale that's followed by a calm exhale as Migusl straightens out. He’s been slowly leaning down, subconsciously trying to get closer to you. “You look incredible, Princess.” He tries to place his eyes forward again, trying to turn the environment back to professional, he can’t help but look at you one last time as you thank him. 

Your eyes are on the ground and your hand sliding up your arm, uncomfortable with all the skin you’re showing. “You do.” Your eyes snap up to his upon his third confirmation. You seem to be searching his eyes for something, looking deep into him in a way he’ll never get used to. 

Your brows furrow and you chew on your lip for a few seconds before declaring that he follow you and starting a rapid pace. He follows behind you urgently before realizing where the two of you are headed.

The castle has a lot of tunnels and hidden passageways, these passageways sometimes lead to other rooms in the castle or secret rooms in the castle. One of your handmaidens was kind enough to show you a passageway right by your washroom that leads to a secret chamber. You’d instantly fallen in love with what you found. 

Miguel was there the first time you saw it, you laughed so loud it echoed off the walls. You thought it was a novelty. He was there when he saw it pique your interest for the first time. It had been late at night, and Miguel hadn’t retired to his quarters yet so he was guardian of your door. Inside your room, he could hear you giggling with a drunk Ser Isaac. Your giggle soon turned to breathy whines but they were interrupted with a dull ‘thump’ before a very disappointed sigh from you. It was a matter of seconds before you opened your chamber doors and told him to follow you with about the same amount of urgency that you just did. 

You told him to guard the door and quickly shut it before you could see any opinion on his face. He was almost hyperventilating at his post. First of all, he was uncomfortable being out here, staring at your drunk, passed-out, fiancé, while you’re in that room doing god knows what. The other thing that bothered him was how he could not stop thinking about how he’d be so much better for you than that machine. 

You opened the door again far too quickly with an even more frustrated expression on your face. “I cannot figure it out. It- It doesn’t work.” Your words come out as an exasperated whine that tugs at his heartstrings. “Show me.” 

You chew on your lip for a second before opening the door to let him in and shutting it behind the two of you. There’s a single, yellow light overhead, shining down on where you would be sitting, where the heavy, metal rod protrudes from the seat. “This thing? It will not move, no matter how hard I try!” He examines the churning lever, immediately spots the problem, and starts removing his gloves. 

“It’s rusted over, Princess. I can fix it.” You watch as his thick fingers curl around the lever and his biceps tense as he pushes, trying to break it free of the rust. There’s an awful screeching sound and Miguel grunts roughly as the lever begins to move. You try to hide your smile of excitement as Miguel rotates the handle a few more times before letting go. “There.” 

You rush over to test for yourself and make sure you can operate it on your own. You smile and turn to Miguel after moving it around with ease. He smirks back at you while he brushes his hands together to remove the rust, and something about the whole scene does something to you. His hands are dirty, his knuckles hairy, his hands huge and thick as he stares at you with something you haven't seen before. You still have one more problem. 

“It also…” You trail off before clearing your throat and starting again. “It doesn’t seem to fit.”

Miguel has to shut his eyes for a moment as arousal floods his veins. He takes a deep breath before looking up at you with the softest expression he could muster, hoping it would hide his lust. “You need to start with your fingers, Princess.”

Your eyes widen at his answer and you quickly nod despite him being able to see the confusion written all over your face. He smiles fondly before explaining further. “That.” He gestures to the machine. “Is too big for most girls.” He looks you directly in your eyes as he speaks, slowly bending to your height. “So you have to start with your fingers.” Your eyes dart to his dirty hands for a moment. “You put them inside you, however many you can take.” 

You start blinking rapidly like your innocent little brain is having trouble processing what he’s telling you. All you respond with is, “Oh.” Miguel chuckles quietly before standing upright and putting his gloves back on. “Yes. I hope that helps.” You walk up to the door with him, to open it for him or accompany him out but you both pause when you hear a bit of commotion on the other side of the door. 

You watch him as he identifies the noise, and breathe out a soft sigh of relief when you see his tense expression relax. “They’re cleaning up Ser Isaac.” He states with a certain disdain that makes you smile softly. You stare at him.

“Okay, then you stay here.” You walk over to the seat and churn the lever a few times to ensure you could do it yourself before sitting on the edge, not quite on the metal penis but close. Miguel is watching from the corner with wide eyes, unable to rationalize what’s going on. You simply tell him “Don’t look.” And he whips his head back around. 

He stares at the dark wall, unknowing what he’s waiting for until he hears it. A soft sigh leaves your lips. He waits. He receives more. You grow in volume as you become wetter, he can hear it, the little squelching sounds getting louder, and faster as you get more desperate. Miguel is using all his willpower to not turn around and take in what he has no doubt is a beautiful sight. 

He hears your whines muffle as you bite your lip and he wishes you could tell you not to, that he wants to hear them all and more. He heard you let out a ragged breath as you added another finger and he couldn’t help his desire to do it for you, but he happily settled with only hearing your beautiful sounds and movements. 

He thanks the Gods every day for letting him stay in that room, for giving him the saccharine memories of you pleasuring yourself for the first time. 

This time feels different though. You’re all dressed up and giving him that look. The one that swirls fantasies into his head and makes his hands clam up. 

He follows you to the room and assumes his position in the corner, but never hears the metallic clink of you situating yourself in the seat. He waits and waits but hears nothing, no movement from you. So he turns around. He has to see what you’re doing, even if it's only for a second, just to make sure you’re safe. 

He finds you standing directly behind him, staring right at him so you guys make eye contact the moment he looks over his shoulder. He instantly turns back around, embarrassed that you found him looking, and worried you might get the wrong idea.

Miguel tries to explain himself, stumbling and stuttering over the start of his sentence before you cut him off. “How come you never look?”

The question silences him. 

“Do you have no desire to?” He turns around again. You seem genuine in your questioning, he feels like he detects a bit of hurt in your voice as well, but that’s most likely in his head. 

“You know I cannot desire.” He states softly. He, as a knight, cannot desire any woman, and most definitely not a princess. Yet he sees anger flash through your eyes at his statement. 

“Just because someone tells you you’re not allowed, does not mean you can’t.” Miguel stays silent, not knowing what you want him to say in response. He can see you scanning his face, examining his features to try and find any crack in his exterior. You must find whatever you’re looking for because you suddenly nod and take a step back. 

“Who are you more loyal to, your oath, or me?” The question baffles him. “If I, your princess, were to tell you to disobey your oath… Would you?” 

His eyes widen and you can see the gears turning in his head, trying to understand where his loyalties should lie. His mouth opens and closes with unsaid words and you decide to give him a break. 

“Come here.” You demand, pointing next to the machine, by the churning lever. You take a deep breath, seat yourself by the metal phallus, and slip a finger under your gown before you can give it a second thought. 

You slide your fingers over your panties for a moment, teasing yourself. Through a lot of trial and error, you’ve found that this is your favorite part; exploring your body, what makes you feel good, and feeling yourself soak your panties throughout the process. 

You hear Miguel take a sharp breath of air, reminding you of his presence and sending a jolt to your core. You’ve never been like this in front of someone, aside from what Miguel could hear and the few times your fiancé was sober enough to attempt to get you off. But even then, it didn't feel like it does now. 

You can’t help but imagine what it would be like if Miguel was the one touching you. If it were his thick fingers sliding under the satin fabric of your underwear to finally slide into you. There’s a burning stretch due to you using two fingers instead of one but it only furthers your fantasies of Miguel’s large hands. You peek your eyes open for a moment, your gaze still on the ground but you can see his feet, a small (or rather large) reminder that he’s right there. 

You can’t help the whimper that slips out, louder than usual. You’re more desperate. You can’t think of any other reason aside from him. You’re soaking your fingers in a way you haven’t since your first time and it’s driving you wild. “Miguel” His name comes out with a small whine, pitching your voice up and scrambling his brain. 

He has to take a deep breath before answering you out of fear that his voice will shake. “Princess?” His voice is rough and gravelly. He hears you take a sharp breath at the sound of it before clearing your throat in hopes of composing yourself. 

“You will churn the lever for me today.” His heart stops. “Understood, Ser?” His eyelids flutter as his eyes burn holes in the wall he’s facing. He goes over your sentence in his head, assuming he must’ve misheard you. His brows furrow and twitch along with his face before accepting that he heard you correctly. “Un-” He takes a shaking breath. “Understood, Princess.”

His hand comes up to wrap around the lever without him even looking in your direction. 

You stare up at him as you pull your panties aside and slide down the cold metal, your teeth digging into your lip to try and keep any noises inside. You only let out a satisfied sigh once you’ve sunk to the bottom before pushing yourself to the tip again. 

You can’t help but focus on him. He’s right there. You can see the curve of his nose and the plush of his lips, the way they purse before his tongue comes out to wet them and pull one into his mouth to bite. He doesn’t have his helmet on so you can see his rich brown curls, the way they frame his face and dance over his neck. You can see his thick, bushy brows, and behind his beautiful lashes are his warm, chocolate-brown eyes looking down at you. 

You gasp once your eyes meet and Miguel goes red. He just wanted to see you for a moment. You’re right there, practically whining in his ear as you impale yourself on what should be his cock. 

He can’t take it anymore, he can’t hold his feelings back as he feels a ripple flow through him and blood rush to his dick. His head decides to conjure every arousing, heart-warming, lovable memory he has of you. He hears you whine again at the loss of eye contact, even if it was only for a moment. Another ripple flows through him, settling in his lower stomach, and creating a painful pressure as your whimpers grow. He tries to redirect his thoughts and focus ahead as he keeps churning for you, cranking the lever again, and again. Your moans pick up as he regains his steady pace.

He tries not to imagine that it’s him. He tries not to think about the fact that your moaning aligns with the throbbing of his cock. He definitely doesn't think about the way his dick is pressing into the metal plate covering his cock. He doesn’t note the way his free hand twitches behind his back, wishing to provide any sense of relief to himself. He doesn’t get distracted by the thought of him touching himself with you sitting right there. 

You feel your orgasm building before Miguel starts to slow down again, his timing uneven again and you look up at him in confusion. He’s staring at the wall, his chest heaving and that same expression on his face. You don’t care to decipher what it means in your impatience. Miguel just feels your delicate hand on his, pushing his hand, forcing him to churn the lever.

You moan as your seat becomes functional. Your chin collides with your chest as you release all the moans and whimpers you’ve been trying to quiet. It almost feels like he’s been toying with you, with all his starting and stopping. You’ve been pushed to the edge of your sanity. 

You can’t comprehend how embarrassing this might be for you, a princess burying this rod inside you again and again, wishing it was someone other than who you’re set to marry. 

You shake the thought of Isaac from your head and replace it with Miguel. Just thinking about the life you could have with him has you tensing over the metal. Your fingers lace with his before you can even think about what you’re doing.

Miguel’s gaze is now on the ceiling, his eyes already slipping shut as your nails dig into his hand. His dick is leaking behind his crotch plate now, begging for your attention, a feeling he isn’t used to regulating. He feels himself pulse painfully and his free hand twitches again. 

Just for a moment. He thinks. Just one second. 

His hand comes from behind his back to crush itself against his crotch, trying to relieve any pressure before he loses his mind, but you hear the clink of the metal hitting and open your eyes instantly. You spot his hand over his dick before slowly looking up to meet his eyes. Miguel lets a moan slip out as he massages himself more thoroughly, squeezing more precum from his tip before pulling away and forcing himself to break your stare. 

“Please.” Is all he hears from you. It’s weak, pathetic, and punches him in the gut, taking all the breath from his lungs. His eyes wander back to you before he can think better of it and he’s instantly stuck, locked into your eyes. 

He watches your body catch alight. You tremble over the steel cock, holding eye contact with Miguel and pushing his hand, forcing him to churn, fuck you over and over as you cum. He can’t do anything but watch. He doesn’t even think about touching himself, not wanting anything to take his attention away from this moment. 

He watches you come down, your body melting into a puddle before him. You drape yourself over the front of the machine as you huff. Even out of breath and covered in sweat, your hair a mess and your dress surely mussed, he thinks you look like an angel, and it breaks his heart that he’ll never be able to keep you. 

He takes a deep breath before releasing the lever, relishing in the whine that leaves your throat as the rod slides out of you one final time. Despite better thinking, Miguel pats your head fondly, almost petting you before speaking as softly as he can. “Come on, Princess. Let’s get you to bed.”

You only hum and bury yourself in his neck as he lifts you from your seat. He takes his time getting back to your room, letting you rest in his arms for as long as he can allow. 

He lays you on your bed gently, propping your head up on the pillow and even going to cover you before you stop him. “Mmm Mig..” You begin sitting up again and stretch before opening your eyes to look at him.

Your eyebrows twitch, furrowing for a moment before he sees recognition in your eyes, quickly accompanied by mischief. “Sit down.” Your voice slurs adorably with your fatigue. He doesn’t get to hear this often. Normally, he’d do anything to stay with you, talk with you just a little more. 

But Miguel is still harder than steel in his suit, so pairing that with the hard metal of his armor, and sitting down? It sounds like the most painful thing he could do right now. “Princess… You should get some res-”

“ Sit down, Miguel.” He stares at you, debating his options again in the face of your stubbornness. You, however, take this as more defiance. “Please?” You beg him. 

You should know you never have to beg him for anything. 

He’s seated before your mouth even shuts. Your mouth is shaped into a smirk before he can take a breath, and you’re in his lap before he can blink. 

“Wha-?” Is all he can breathe out before your mouth is on his. His hands find your hips on instinct, grabbing all that he can and pulling it against him. You pull away. “Thank you.” And dive for him again. 

He places one hand behind your head to ensure you don’t do it again. 

thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist or send me some motivation here!!

[adverbally]

Think of the Tender Things

Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “‘Keep breathing, please.’” | wc: 773 | rated: T | cw: hospital, premature baby | tags: adoption, new parent anxiety, hopeful ending | title from “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” by Simple Minds

———

The NICU has its own window, far enough from the regular nursery to seem intentional. It makes sense to Eddie, theoretically speaking— keep the preemies and the sick babies away from the healthy ones so the comparison isn’t so startling. It just doesn’t work that well if they have to walk past the full-term nursery anyway.

They pause to observe the fat, happy newborns who will be going home in the next day or two. They’re all chubby cheeks and chunky limbs, round little tummies swaddled tightly with matching caps on their heads, just like the parenting books advertise.

Steve’s hand squeezes his, and Eddie knows he’s feeling the same thing: that’s how it should’ve been, and all of the guilt and fear and bitterness that goes along with that line of thinking.

They keep walking down the hall until they reach the door indicating the special care nursery. The glass there is smaller, since fewer babies fit in a room when they’re surrounded with incubators and ventilators and monitors galore.

The second bassinet from the right has a card with a stork that says “Baby Boy Munson” and wow, that’s going to take some time to get used to. Eddie gets closer, almost pressing his nose against the glass, to get a better look.

“He’s so small,” Steve says beside him. “I figured he would be, but…”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. It says right there on the little card: three pounds, thirteen ounces. Sixteen inches long. Not the smallest baby there but noticeably smaller than the ones they just walked past. “A lot of hair, too.”

“Yeah.”

They’re quiet after that. There’s not much they can comment on before they have to acknowledge the fact that they’ve just become adoptive parents a full two months ahead of schedule.

Their son (holy shit) seems even smaller with the tubes and wires obscuring him. Eddie identifies an oxygen cannula, a feeding tube, chest leads, an IV, and a blood pressure cuff, plus a few other lines he doesn’t know the purpose of. When you factor in a diaper that seems to dwarf half of his tiny body, there’s barely any skin visible. And from what Eddie understands, they’re lucky that more serious care isn’t necessary.

“Thirty-two weeks. That’s not… it could be worse,” Steve said after they got the call from the adoption agency that morning. The whole drive to the hospital, he rambled about lung maturity and the suck/swallow reflex and birth weight, going into one of Eddie’s ears and out the other as he tried to focus on the road.

Steve was the one who read all the books. Even the parts about premature births and what could go wrong throughout the pregnancy. “I’d just rather know and be prepared,” he explained. “Just to cover our bases.”

Eddie had skipped those chapters. It felt like bad luck, like tempting fate or something, as if avoiding it would prevent anything from happening. In retrospect, he wishes he had more of a clue about what’s going on, what their future will look like.

Any future seems far away when the present is so uncertain. Eddie watches his son squirm, with his too-long limbs and his too-big head, and he watches his chest rise and fall with each breath. His tiny lungs are working and he’s moving and none of his machines are beeping, and that has to be enough for now.

Just keep breathing, please, he thinks desperately. Keep growing and getting stronger and we’ll worry about the rest later.

When Steve breaks the silence, his voice is small. “Do you think we can hold him? Or, or touch him, at least?”

Eddie doesn’t want to. He knows it’s just his anxiety talking, but he’s terrified that he’ll pull some essential line or do something wrong. He was supposed to have another two months to prepare for this. How do people prepare for this?

“Ed, are you okay?” Steve’s voice startles him back into awareness.

“Yeah, just…” He pauses to think about how to say it without alarming Steve. He settles on, “I’m scared.”

Steve throws his arms around Eddie’s neck and pulls him into a tight hug. “I’m scared, too,” he confesses in a whisper. “I think we’re gonna keep being scared for the next eighteen years, but that doesn’t mean we can’t do it.”

Eddie tucks his nose just under Steve’s ear and breathes him in, sweet shampoo and hints of spicy cologne in the collar of his jacket. They stay like that for long moments before Eddie sighs and pulls away with a decisive nod. “Okay. Let’s go meet our son.”

[raya-hunter01]

Not My Sister's Keeper Pt 1 & 2

Roman X OC(Kara)

Jey Uso X OC (Tia)

Rating: 18+

Warning: Smut; sex, fluff, couple arguing, Jealousy, infidelity, pregnancy

Roamn’s wife recently left medical school and returned home to save her marriage and travel with him on the road. Upon her return, she finds out things are not what they seem. Her sister is pregnant by her best friend Jey Uso, who is also Roman’s cousin, and her husband is acting suspicious.

What happens when a conversation overhead on a baby monitor blows her world apart?

This first chapter. I posted the ending of the chapter for the seven-sentence challenge.

Pensacola, Fl

Roman's House

Kara's POV

“What’s wrong baby?” I asked my husband Roman as he seemed to be zoning in and out.

“Nothin, I just heard you talking to Terry this morning and I know you miss your friends out there in Boston. I feel like I forced your hand, and I don’t want you to regret your decision to come home.

“Why would I do that, I missed you too and we both agreed on it.”  

“Kara, I’m gone so much, and I don’t want you to look back and regret coming back. I should have made it a priority to come out more to see you,” Roman said as I caressed his face.

“Babe, I could never regret coming back. I did this for us and our family that we’re building. That means more to me than medical school. I can go back when your schedule is lighter,” I reassured him as he sighed.

“I just hate you had to leave, but I promise within the next two years my schedule will be lighter, and we can get a house out there so you can finish school. You have my word, I promise,” Roman said making me smile at the thought of us getting a house in Boston so I could continue school.

“I’m going to hold you to that,” I whispered as our lips met in a passionate kiss.

The past year had been hard on us, previously I had been traveling with Roman on the road. I loved it and I even had a job that allowed me to work from home.  Still with the perfect schedule I longed for more, so I accepted a scholarship to continue my education in studying medicine at Harvard Medical school. 

At first, Roman was supportive and even stood up to my family about me moving to Boston but then the distance began to cause a heavy strain on our marriage.

We would argue more, he became distant almost resentful that I wasn’t on the road with him anymore or at least in Pensacola waiting for him to come home. 

I didn’t see why he just couldn’t be happy and come see me more. That last argument we had when I was in Boston was an eye opener, I was going to lose my husband if we couldn’t find a solution.

-----

Four months Earlier

Boston Massachusetts

Kara’s Condo

“We’re going to have to make a decision, because this isn’t working babe,” Roman said as I felt my heart drop as we calmed down from our weekly facetime sex session.

 “So, what are you saying? Like get a divorce? Are you seeing someone ele.”

“Kara, I would never, I’m just sayin’ this is getting to be too much.”

“Why can’t you just come out here more on your off days like we agreed. I mean we started off good then all of sudden visits became few and far in between,” I said as Roman frowned sitting up in bed pulling the comforter over his waist.

“I know what we agreed, but I got more stuff on my plate now baby. I can’t help that and then I have stuff to take care of things here in Pensacola when I’m off,” Roman said as I nodded in understanding wiping my tears as he looked at me sadly.

Ugh, Facetime was not the way I wanted to discuss this. We needed to talk in person.

“I swear I’m not saying this to make you cry, baby. Please don’t cry, I’m sorry, ok,” Roman pleaded as I tried to gather myself, sitting up and grabbing my phone.

“No, you have a right to say how you feel, and I understand it,” I whispered as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Kara, I’m just frustrated and miss you so fuckin’ much. We gotta work something out because I can’t take much more of this, especially coming home to an empty house” he whispered as I wiped my tears.

“I miss you too……. We’ll figure something out….I promise.”

The rest as they say is history, a few days later I left medical school behind and surprised Roman by joining him on the road and never went back to school.

Being back on the road with him and in our routine felt good. I knew I was where I belonged, and I felt safe wrapped up in his arms, but I also knew deep in my gut something was wrong, I just didn’t know what.

I couldn’t worry about that today though, it was an important day for Jey and my sister.

“We need to get dressed, babe,” I said stealing one last kiss as Roman caressed my stomach.

“A’ight but I’m ready for this to be over so we can come home and work on our own family,” he whispered in my neck as I blushed.

I truly did love this man and I couldn’t wait to have babies and more babies with him.

------

Tia’s Baby Shower

Kara’s POV

“How are you feeling, sis?”

“I’m feeling very loved,” Tia said rubbing her stomach as I smiled. “We do love you, especially Jey,” I said as Tia looked around nervously.

“Yea, I love my child’s father too,” she said rubbing her stomach, her use of the words felt almost like she was trying to hint about something.

I already knew Jey was the father so what was that about?

Looking at her it seems she in nervous but somewhat happy so I shrugged off her words.

“I can’t thank you enough for this, Kara. It really means a lot to me,” Tia said as I gave her a hug trying to overcome the tension behind us.

“Hey, stop thanking me, I just wanted to throw you my big sister a baby shower. I mean my niece is on the way,” I said as she laughed but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

The dynamics of my family at times could be explosive at times, my parents though married seemed to be just tolerating each other.

For most of our lives my sister and I never got along, and my poor baby brother was always stuck in the middle of it.  

I think the relationship with Jey is a dig at me if I’m being honest. She knew I used to have a crush on him but we both agreed we didn’t want to cross the line and jeopardize our friendship.

Tia acted like she couldn’t stand Jey for all these years and then all of a sudden, she took an interest in him about ten months ago. Then a couple weeks later announces she’s pregnant with his baby.

 I think myy sister’s pregnancy was actually the boost I think we all needed to try to be a somewhat functioning family.

I would say today was a success as our family and friends got together to celebrate the pending arrival of my niece.

“Bae, I’m heading to Gram's to get her gifts,” Jey said sticking his head around the corner as Roman walked around him.

“Go ahead, Uce, I’ll help Tia put everything in the nursery,” he said as Tia avoided making eye contact with Jey and was looking at my husband with a smile.

“Oh, that would be nice, my sister is so lucky to have you,” she said as Roman looked nervous, rubbing the back of his neck.

What the hell is going on?

“Uh, well it’s my pleasure to help. I mean we are family after all.”

Trying to shake off the awkwardness, I decided to change the subject. “I guess ya’ll can start and I’ll put my pots back in the car, then help ya’ll,” I said as Roman shook his head.

“Nah, I got it, you did enough today. This will only take a second. You can go ahead, and head home, I’ll will meet you there,” he said giving me a hug as I smiled.

Roman was always so caring and loving. His soft lips against mine made me excited for what was to come later.

“I’ll see you at home,” I whispered against his lip he nodded.

“I Can’t wait to get home and take this dress off-”

 Tia cleared her throat as I blushed. “Sorry, I’ll see you in the morning, Tia.”

“I’ll call you later, and thanks for lending Roman to do this heavy lifting,” she joked as I saw Roman was seemingly in another world, avoiding her gaze.

Roman’s POV

“Always Ms. Perfect, I know I’m better than her,” I heard Tia mumble under her breath.

I felt my anger rising as Tia slick threw shots at Kara under her breath. Matter of fact, she had been throwing shots all day.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” I yelled as soon as Kara left, causing Tia to smirk.

“What are you talking about, I don’t have a problem, baby,” she chuckled as I snarled.

 “First off, I ain’t your baby and you know what you been doing all day to Kara.

“Oh, God forbid anyone upsets Kara. Oh, you so concerned about her now, but you damn sure wasn'’t when you were fuckin’ me,” she hissed stalking off upstairs as I growled snatching a few gifts off the table and following her.

“Look, I fucked up, and we slept together a few times. Stop trying to make it seem like it was some big love affair. I love Kara and that will never change I said as we walked into the nursery.

“A fuck up is one time, we slept together I know at least six times stop trying to lessen the blow of your actions and own it. I came on to you, and you took everything I had to give,’ Tia said smirking at my uneasiness.

“Look, I love my wife-”

“Yet, you were fucking me…. Her sister, and your cousin’s girlfriend.

“Ok, now that’s bullshit in itself, now you wanna act high and mighty. You only got with Jey to cover yo’ ass; he thinks he got you pregnant off of a one-night stand.”

“I wanted and still want to be with you, but you want her!  What was I supposed to do!” Tia yelled, frustrating me even more.

“Not bring other people into this shit and play with their feelings!”

“I ain’t playin’ with his feelings, I do love Jey,” she said as I scoffed at the bullshit she was spewing.

“Don’t do that shit Roman, we both agreed it was best if he and I raised the baby. You want to be with Kara, right?”

“No, you decided that shit, all by yourself and Jey doesn’t deserve this no more than Kara does!” I shouted trying to get my point across.

“So, what are you sayin? You got a conscious now!” Tia hissed as I growled.

“I’m sayin’ that I’m over this shit, and I’m telling Kara!”

“You really ready to risk losing everything now?!  We both Know Kara will leave you if she finds out.

“I have to tell her-”

“Look, I’m trying to compromise here. Just give me stipend and be a loving uncle to this baby. I promise you can see her whenever you like or say the word and we can be a family together.”

“I’m not her uncle, I’m her father, and even if I lose everything, we aren’t going to be together, Tia. We can co-parent,” I said laying it all out on the line.

“I’ve accepted that, why do you think I’m with Jey. Now you wanna fuck that up for me,” Tia whispered as I felt even more guilty.

We shouldn’t even be discussing this shit now, but it was like we couldn’t stop. It had been a long time since we had been able to talk alone besides on the phone when Kara or Jey weren’t around.

----

Kara’s POV

“Damn, how the hell did I leave my purse?” I muttered walking back inside my sister’s living room, retrieving it.

“You know Kara means the world to me,” I heard Roman say as I smiled picking up the baby monitor, listening to him talk to my sister as they put away some of her baby shower gifts in the nursery; “And I love Jey, that’s why neither one of them can find out you’re the father of this baby.

The silence after Tia's statement defining.

"F-Father," I gasped in shock trying to catch my breath as I waited to hear Roman deny Tia's claim, but it didn't come...Just silence.

I couldn’t breathe, it was as if those words seemed to be stuck on repeat in my mind and it wouldn't stop. “You’re the father of this baby.”

My eyes widened in horror as I lost my footing, collapsing onto the floor, looking at the baby monitor's red lights flashing.

Roman was the father of my sister’s baby.

“Jey is going to find out sooner or later and so is Kara. They ain’t dumb!” Roman hissed as I felt like I wanted to vomit, my breathing shallow as I tried to process what was happening.

“Aye, Tia, I’m back!” I heard Jey yell as I snapped out of the daze I was stuck in and ran out the back door, trying to avoid him.

Jey’s POV

"Tia, I said i'm back!" I shouted looking around the living room, seeing alot of the gifts still around the living room.

“I see that you are,” Tia said appearing at the top of the stairs, as I frowned at her nervousness.

“Why you look so nervous?" I asked sitting down her gift from my grandmother.

 “Roman, Jey’s back!” she yelled, ignoring my question as I heard her voice echo.

“What the hell was that?” I asked as Tia smiled, coming downstairs.

“It’s one of the baby monitors, mama turned it on earlier to show us how it worked. The other one is in the nursery, that’s the echo you heard.” she said as I nodded in understanding.

“Oh, that’s cool we need that for when we need some alone time so we can still hear lil mama in her room,” I said as she laughed.

“You are so silly,” she whispered as I looked around for Kara.  “Kara still here? I need to talk to her about something, I saw her car out front,” I said as Tia shook her head.

 “No, Roman sent her home, matter fact she should be there by now,” Tia said walking over to look out the front door.

“Bae, I’m telling you, I saw her car just a second ago.”

“Are you sure it was her car, it’s not there now,” Tia said as I frowned. “Many times, I done rode in that car, I know my best friend’s car Tia,” I said annoyed at her assumption that I didn’t know what I saw.

“Maybe she had forgot something,” Tia said as I tried to shake the feeling, she was hiding something as Roman finally joined us downstairs.

“Since you back Jey, I’mma head out. Kara is waiting for me at home,” Roman said as I smiled.

“Uce, ya’ll probably will get home at the same time. I just saw her car parked out front,” I said as Roman’s smile dropped.

“Huh, Kara left bout thirty minutes ago,” Roman said looking at his watch as I shrugged my shoulders.

Nah, try five minutes ago, give or take," I said as Tia looked worried.

“Was her car where she parked earlier?” Roman asked as I shook my head.

“No, she was parked out by the street.”

Roman seemed to go white as a ghost and Tia began pacing.

“Uh, I’ll leave ya’ll alone, I need to get home,” Roman said as I followed him to the door. He seemed to be antsy and dare, I say scared.

“Let me me walk you out, Uce.”

“Nah, I’ll see you later fam, I got it,” Roman said walking to his truck as I closed the door.

Damn what had him spooked?

Kara’s POV

I knew I couldn’t go home, if I did, I would kill him…I really would kill him. I parked down the street from my parents and then made my way to their guest house. I didn’t want anyone to see me, not right now.

I was falling apart and needed time to think, this couldn’t be happening it seemed like the minute I closed the door the dam broke as I screamed breaking down in tears sliding down the wall.

“Why him?” I cried overwhelmed by the betrayal of my husband and my sister. The darkness surrounding me, only visible light was from my phone as Roman and Tia had been blowing my phone up.

Not knowing or caring which one it was I accepted the call just wanting the ringing to stop.

“Sis, is that you? Roman has been trying to call you, he’s worried, you weren’t home when he got-.”

 Ending the call without saying a word, I thew the phone hard as I could against the mirror on my parents’ wall. Almost feeling a sense of satisfaction as it shattered into tiny pieces just like my heart had .

“Sis?” I laughed at the gall wiping my tears… “You ain’t no sister of mine,” I whispered, my heart straining against my chest as I tried to control my breathing.

 Every look, nervous movements and awkward exchanges between them played over and over in my mind.

“Sweetie, are you ok? I saw you come back her and I heard a crash,” my mom said coming into the guesthouse, turning on the lights as I scurried to the corner pulling my knees to my chest whipping my tears.

“I’m fine mama, can you please leave,” I whispered as she gasped at my current state.

“Bill! Get in here!” my mother yelled as I shook my head. I didn’t want to talk about it; I knew if I did the tears would come harder.

“Mama, I just want to be alone, please,” I sniffed as she came over to me. “Who hurt you baby?” she whispered kneeling down, taking me in her arms as I sobbed my heart out.

“What the hell is going on?!” my father bellowed coming in seeing my mother and I on the floor, locked in a comforting embrace and the glass on the floor.

“Don’t freak her out, calm down Bill, we don’t even know what’s wrong.”

“Well, something fuckin’ happened Rebecca, and I want to know what it is. She in here breaking mirrors and hysterical,” he said as mother sighed pulling out her phone.

“Maybe Tia can tell me, let me call her-”

“Don’t! Don’t ever call her asking her nothing about me!” I screamed hysterically as my mother looked at me in shock.

I jerked away, her touch scorching my skin. Hurrying to my feet, trying to make my exit, but my dad stood in the way.

“This is not like you sweetie. What happened?” my mom asked, rubbing my shoulders as my father and her tried to calm me down.

“Kara, what is going on baby, did something happen between you and your sister?”

“Dad, please just drop it, ok,” I pleaded retrieving my phone, and wiping my tears.

“Let’s give her a little space to breathe Bill,” my mom whispered as I felt myself losing it slowly but surely.

Hearing a car pull in the driveway I went back into flight or fight mode. “Dad, please move, I need to go,” I pleaded as he stood steadfast, unmovable.

“Baby I can’t let you drive like this, let’s just sit down and talk” he suggested as I shook my head.

“I don’t feel like talking daddy,” I said as my mom sighed.

“Dad?! Mom?! We’re here to pick up the crib!” I heard Tia shout my blood ran cold.

The crib we slept in as kids….That crib?

“We’re in here baby,” my mom called out as I cringed as Tia and Jey in came in the guesthouse.

“Aye, you ok Kara?” Jey asked taking in my appearance. I didn’t even care how I looked right now; my eyes were focused on Tia who looked scared to death.

“Maybe we should come back Jey,” she whispered trying to get a feel of what was going on.

“No, I’m good, come in,” I said as she sighed in relief, thinking her secret was still safe.

“Mom, dad, can you leave? I need to talk Tia,” I said as my dad looked between us unsure of my request but threw his hands up.

“Fine, let’s go up to the main house Rebecca and let the girls talk.”

“I think we should stay Bill; something is wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong mama,” Tia said as I nodded my head in agreement.

 “It’s right as rain,” I added as my dad sighed.

“Least she’s willing to talk to Tia, let’s let them talk,” he said ushering my mom out of the room.

“What did you do Tia?” my mom asked as Tia lowered her head in shame as dad closed the door behind them.

“Do you need me to leave Kara?” Jey asked as I shook my head no.

“No, it involves you just as much as it does me,” I whispered as he caressed my shoulder.

“What happened baby girl?” he asked as I looked at Tia trying to see if she would confess but she just stood there as if nothing was wrong.

Jey had to know, I know it wasn’t my place, but he needed to know.

“Girl, you had Roman worried and so was I when he told me you weren’t home. I’m so glad you were here and safe. We thought something had happened to you,” she said as I chuckled at her weak attempt to change the subject.

“Oh, I’m fine….I just needed some time to process some stuff. The problem with that is I only ended up having more questions and I know you know the answers,” I whispered as Jey looked at me confused.

“Questions about what Kara?” Jey asked, looking between Tia and I, picking up on undeniable tension.

“Jey, can you leave Kara and I alone to ta-”

“Jey, stay because I know you’re going to want to know the answers to these questions too.”

"Jey, please leave us,” Tia whispered.

"When were you going to tell me that not only has you been FUCKING my husband, but you're carrying his baby?" I asked calmly as Tia gripped the counter trying to steady herself.

You could hear a pin drop as Jey looked at Tia for any sign of truth to my words.

“Wh…W..What are you talking about Kara?” Tia stuttered as I scoffed at the deer caught in the headlights look on her face.

“Tia, what is Kara talking about?” Jey asked, my heart truly went out to my best friend. He deserved the world, but he always chose the wrong ones to love.

“I don’t know Jey, she isn’t thinking clearly,” Tia said as I rolled my eyes.

“Tia! Words of advice, when you are confessing your dirt and playing God with someone else’s life, make sure the baby monitors aren’t on, projecting your conversations throughout the fuckin’ house, dumb ass!” I hissed as she covered her mouth in shock.

“Ok, let’s calm down lau pele, talk to me, because you ain’t makin’  no sense right now,” Jey said gently pulling me to him.

“I’m sorry Jey, but that isn’t your baby,” I whispered as Tia began sobbing.

“Jey, I can explain-”

“Logan is my daughter, what you sayin to me’?”  he asked, looking between Tia and I, his eyes full of tears.

“Tell him…For once in your miserable life, tell the truth,” I said truly done with the lies.

“Jey, Just listen-”

“Is she mine?” Jey whispered walking closer to Tia as she began to figet wrapping her arms around herself.

“Jey, please, baby-”

“Is she mine, damn it!" Jey screamed as I jumped at the anger and hurt in his voice.

"No!...She’s Roman’s” she whimpered as Jey trembled with anger.

“I am so sorry,” I whispered as he pinched his nose trying to stop his tears from falling but to no avail and began pacing.

“It ain’t yo’ fault Kara…. I shoulda' known betta right? He asked, my heart breaking for him.

“I…..I didn’t mean for it to happen, Kara was gone, Roman and I were spending more time together on the road and it just happened.”

“So, in other words when I was gone, you made a move on him,” I said as she sighed.

“Look you left him, and he needed somebody.”

“How could you do that to Kara?” Jey said as Tia wiped her tears.

“Cause she’s willing…Willing to bed flop with anything that moves and I fuckin’ hate you for it Tia,” I cried wanting to give her this work but I knew I couldn’t.

“I tried to make it right-”

“Oh, that’s right, you slept with me and then told me I got you pregnant,” Jey said as I cringed at how he described it, but it was true.

“Where did you do it?” I asked as Tia subconsciously rubbed her belly.

“Don’t do this Kara?” Tia whispered as I scoffed.

“In my house?.....In my bed?” I asked with a whimper as she shook her head.

“No! As much as things haven’t always been good between us, I would never do that,” she cried as I tried to piece together their intimate moments.

“His bus?” I whispered as she nodded. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, now we were getting somewhere.

“The first night of the UK tour when I couldn’t reach him, he was with you wasn’t he?” I asked as she dropped her head in shame.

“That night you left the show early proclaiming you were sick,” Jey added as she nodded.

“Oh my god I’m going to be sick,” I whispered.

“I swear it’s over, Roman loves you and only you. That’s why we did this!” Tia cried as Jey exploded flipping the couch and storming outta the house.

“Jey! Don’t leave!" Tia cried as I grabbed my keys preparing to leave as well. I had heard and seen enough.

“Actions have consequences Tia. That was one of them, a good man walking out of your life….A new life about to be born," I said pointing at her stomach.

"Kara-"

"Your dead to me,” I whispered, heading for the door as she jumped in front of me.

“Kara, just listen-”

“Don’t call…Don’t text…Don’t come by my home… I never want to see you again,” I said as she gasped, falling against me and grunting in pain.

"Get off of me Tia!" I shouted as she held onto me to steady herself, but I didn't push her away.

 “Kara, my water just broke” she cried as I looked down seeing at the small puddle at her feet.

Are you serious right now? This cannot be happening.....

Taglist:

@reci24 @southerngirl41 @vebner37 @jeyusos-girl

@melaninsugababy @romanreignkisser @bebesobrielo

@arination99 @2-muchsauce @bakugoumarianawrites

@empressdede @alyyaanna @christinabae @harmshake @anonandwannakeepitthatway @venusesworld @jeyusosgirl  @theninthwonder @mya2real  @justazzi @whatdoeseverybodywant @reignsboy19 wooahmiri alichesmi pytbgeezy @ superpietom 

@truefant4sy @yana3sworld amandairene88

[wutheringmights]

After I finished reading The Epic of Gilgamesh today, I entered a fugue state where I sat down and read the entirety of Alanna: The First Adventure by Tamora Pierce.

On the record, I have had a lifelong love and adoration for Pierce's Tortall books. I first read the Song of the Lioness quartet when I was 11, and they rewrote my brain. I love them so much. I reread them and the other Tortall books on a semi-frequent schedule.

It's been a while since I reread any of the Alanna books, if only because my sister took our shared copies when she moved out. I've been meaning to buy my own set for a long while now but haven't been able to justify the purchase. The other week, I just so happened to find the first two volumes at my local indie bookstore. I bought them immediately, as well as ordered the third and fourth book. (And discovered that the store owner knows me by name-- when I went to pick up my order, she saw me and said, Hi Frankie! I got your books over here.) (I may be spending too much money there.)

So I have been in a bit of an emotional rut these past few weeks. Work sucks. Life stinks. The temptation to run off to Tortall and curl up in the fantasy story that captivated me as a kid has never been stronger.

Ergo, I ran off to read the first book as soon as I could.

If you're looking for any critique of this book, series, or Tortall in general, I will never give it. Sure, it's problematic and dated, and in many ways imperfect, but someone else can list out all of its issues. They're all perfect to me.

Anyway, the book. I should say something about this book in particular.

One thing I appreciate about Pierce's writing is how she handles school settings in fantasy. Learning and training is so mundane. All of her heroines have to work hard and put in extra hours of study in order to improve, much less keep up with their peers. It's so normal that it circles around to being weirdly refreshing.

Also, there is still no other fantasy author who handles period talk and birth control the way Pierce does. We make fun of the trope of fantasy birth control nowadays, but I rarely see it presented as it is here: as a part of normal puberty lessons and given long before sex is in the girl's radar. And even today with the glut of YA fantasy stories out there, I still have yet to see menstruation be portrayed as frequently or as bluntly as Pierce writes it.

There was a period of time publishers really tried to push the Tortall books as straight YA, which doesn't work for that reason alone. You gotta market them to middle schoolers. They're the ones just starting puberty talks, and getting scenes like this is so good for their brains.

Moving on: I fucking love these characters. Alanna was an icon of brash, temperamental heroines that have shaped my taste to this day. I love how even in the first book, Jon is kinda shitty. I adore George Cooper. Talk about a taste maker the way this man sets a standard.

I just can't be coherent when it comes to any Tortall books. I have no thoughts. Head empty. I am going to binge the rest of this series as quickly as I can before my library book comes in. Then normal book content will resume.

Before I go, I need to talk about the book covers.

Growing up, my sister and I had these covers:

Which, god. I love them. The black is striking. The art is incredible. Alanna looks so good. They were the perfect pocket-size too. I was going to buy the same edition for my copies, but instead I got the 40th anniversary reprints:

Not bad at all! These books have had some seriously bad covers, and these look great! Very anime, which will appeal to the 11 year olds who need to have their socks rocked by this series.

But, man. I really miss those black covers. One day I will splurge and buy a second set of them just so that I can stare at the art.

[natailiatulls07]

The golden trio Pt 3

Lando Norris x female!reader

Carlos Sainz x female!reader

Max Verstappen & Female!reader & Charles Leclerc

Summary - Being bestfriends with two famous formula one drivers is never easy, but what will happen when you get involved with yet another formula one driver??

Warning - a little amount of hate and talks of sex (a quick comment)

A/n - I will most likely post of either Wednesdays or weekends, it’s just those are the days where my schedule is more freed up 🤍

The golden trio

-

f1gossip

Spotted: Y/n L/n last night, she was with Lando Norris and they looked like they were doing some food shopping. How is everyone feeling after seeing Charles and Max’s posts earlier today?

Liked username and 3,281 others

username Personally I feel bad, I mean Charles and Max wouldn’t post and say those things if it was lie

username I mean maybe we were wrong. Tbh I’m annoyed at myself for assuming those things 😔

username Come on guys, she obviously manipulating them!

= username I highly doubt that, they’re very smart men and wouldn’t let that happen

= username Plus she hasn’t been back to their apartment since the other night sooo 🤨

yourusername posted to her close friend’s story

Gossip Groupchat (White: Reader) (Red: Charles) (Blue: Max)

Hey

Hey Bee, how are you??

I’m good, Lando showed me your posts on instagram. You know you didn’t have to

But we had to Bee and we wanted to. They were horrible to you, you’re our best friend, our sunshine. You obviously do not deserve it

Yeah ofc, we’d be the worst people ever if we let them carry on

You know I’m not angry at you guys, never was, I think just after what happened I needed to give us a little of space

We know Bee, we’d be same. I’m just glad you bumped into Lando and he let you stay at his place for a few day

About that…don’t get annoyed please

Why would we get annoyed?? 🤨

Um well

Me and Lando slept together

Ok…right well I know that I’m not annoyed about that, was it meaningless or what??

Yeah, I agree with Charlie. I just don’t want to see you getting hurt by him…

We were both drunk and um we woke up the next morning. I remember doing it but he said that doesn’t remember so I think it was more or less meaningless

That’s alright, it’s okay that it ended up that way, don’t worry

Okay…I’m probably gonna to head back to the apartment later today once I finish some work so I’ll see you guys later 🤍

See you later Bee 💙

Bye Bee ❤️

f1gossip

Spotted: Outside her apartment building, Y/n L/n and Lando Norris was caught sharing an intimate moment together. Is there something going on?? Or is it just friends being friends??

Liked username and 5,194 others

username Wait, why can I actually see this being a thing??

username Ngl I ship it 😋

username I wanna know how Max and Charles feels about this duo 😯

username So is she moving back into the apartment??

= username Where was she staying over the past few days??

= username A lot of people were saying that she was staying with Lando because he was non stop posting her and seen with her

= username That makes sense ngl

yourusername posted to her story

Twitter

username Wait, why do I love the fact that Y/n outs Charles and Max on her story?!? 🥹

username Ikr, she proper calls them out on everything!! It’s amazing 😍

username I was stalking her instagram earlier and some of the older posts are just amazing 🥰

lizziemackintosh

New going purple episode!! We have the gorgeous Y/n L/n in, we talk online hate, friends, relationships and anything in between. Thank you so much babes, I loved just hanging out with you!!

Tagged: yourusername

Liked by lilymhe and 46,825 others

username She looks stunning 😍

username I’m excited to see these two together

yourusername Loved hanging out with you, need to do it again soon 🤭

= lizziemackintosh OFC

username This is my joker.

username One queen hanging out with another queen, I love it 🥹

-

Tag list: @eviethetheatrefreak @janeholt3 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @namelesssav

[milaisreading]

Hi! it's me again, can I request a scenario where the manager is on a day off and visits a cafe and meets Sae's mother with him? and after getting along with each other Sae's mom told Sae to drive her home, and the paparazzi saw Sae with her hand on her waist and manager is wearing a sundress and started a new issue with her being pregnant and accepted into the family? I really loved how you wrote the misunderstandings and more rumors part. Thank you if you'd write this!

Author: At this point I might make a chapter where they are dating for real with how much of these rumors we made😭😭 thanks for the request🩷

Warnings ⚠️: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open

⚽️Blue lock belongs to: Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

"Marc! Come back here!" (Y/n) scolded as she held the redhead's hand tightly, glaring sternly at him.

"But aunty, it's so boring." The boy pouted as his free hand pulled on the girl's (f/c) dress. (Y/n) glare softened and she patted the boy's head.

"You just know I can't be mad at you, huh?"

"Yep! Because I am your favorite!" The boy nodded his head as he giggled when the man at the counter called their name.

"Our food is ready~" Marc cheered as he pulled (Y/n) along to get the food.

'He really is my favorite person.' (Y/n) agreed in her head.

"And then Itoshi scored the goal! Aunty, you really should have seem it. Nobody on PXG was ready for it! Even Itoshi #2 was left speechless." Marc talked about the last game Real Madrid and PXG had as he ate his fries, (Y/n) nodding along as she added a quick word here and there. She did watch some parts, but due to the hectic schedule in Bastard München she had, she wasn't able to watch all of it.

'It's kind of funny that he keeps calling Rin Itoshi #2."

"Really? And what was your favorite part?"

"Hmm... probably the part where Itoshi Sae scored the winning point! It was so fun-"

"Oh? Marc, (Y/n) I knew I heard someone familiar." The girl and Marc looked up, only to find Sae and a unfamiliar woman with dark green hair looking down at them.

"Ah Sae-san, you are back in Japan?" (Y/n) smiled as she got up from her seat to greet him while Marc immediately hugged the football player.

"You must be (Y/n)! I am so glad to finally meet you." The woman smiled as she moved past Sae and (Y/n) bowed.

"Yes, (L/n) (Y/n) it's nice to meet you ma'am."

"Same here, I am Sae and Rin's mom, Itoshi Minako. I heard a lot about you from my sons. Sae, she is much prettier in person, you were right." The woman smiled and looked at Sae, who had an embarrassed look while hugging Marc back.

"Mom!"

"T-thank you, ma'am. Do you want to join us, the restaurant is pretty packed today?" (Y/n) offered, trying to get over the embarrassment while pointing at the two empty seats next to her and Marc.

"You don't have to-"

"That's a nice idea, thank you." Sae's mom nudged him and then looked down at Marc.

"And you must be Marc...we heard a lot about you." The woman chuckled nervously as the other two blushed, remembering the article that came out a while ago.

"Mhm! I am a huge fan of Itoshi! He is the best!" The boy grinned as the older woman started gushing over the cuteness.

They sat at the restaurant for the next hour or so and talked about random things. Sae gave Marc some tips and tricks as a beginner and the boy in return would ask him about his job. (Y/n) and Minako would look at them from time to time, finding the interaction adorable. Minako would then move to ask (Y/n) some questions about her job and her opinions about her sons, which (Y/n) found odd, but answered them regardless.

Minako's eyes had a strange look to them, Sae noted, and he could feel like something weird would happen soon.

"Well, Marc and I need to go now."

"Do you have anyone to pick you up? It's pretty late." Sae raised an eyebrow as (Y/n) put on Marc's jacket.

"Don't worry, Sae-san. I will call a taxi, my home isn't far away-"

"No, no. Sae will drive you two home." Minako interjected, causing Sae to look at his mom oddly, but flinched as he noticed her glare at him.

"There is really no need, Itoshi-san. Besides, you need to go home too-"

"I need to finish some shopping anyways, don't worry about me. Sae, doesn't mind it either." The said boy looked at (Y/n) and gulped, nodding his head in agreement.

"A-ah thank you so much... alright then, I will just go and call my brother to inform him, come on Marc."

(Y/n) smiled as she pulled the boy away. The two Itoshis watched them keenly before Sae turned to look at his mom.

"Why did you offer me, mom?"

"Didn't you tell me you liked (Y/n)?"

"Well yes, but-"

"No but, Sae. This is your chance to spend some extra time with her! Plus I love this girl already, I can't wait till I start picking wedding dresses with her~" the woman giggled as Sae's face turned red and shook his head.

"(Y/n) doesn't like me that way-"

"But you do, now try and make her to like you back. Ahhh~ I can't wait for the possible grandchildren."

"Grandchildren?!" Sae blushed even more, but didn't protest the idea much.

Once the two said goodbye to the older Itoshi woman, Sae escorted (Y/n) and Marc to his car and drew off. (Y/n) gave him the directions to her house, the two would talk about some random things, mainly about their jobs, with the occasional interjection from Marc. Soon tho the boy fell quiet and (Y/n) looked at the backseat, smiling softly.

"Ah~ he fell asleep. I guess all that walking and eating tired him out." The girl commented as Sae nodded his head.

"So your family is in Japan?"

"Yeah! Big brother wanted to visit his mom and for her to see Marc again, and my sister-in-law always liked summers here more than in Portugal." Sae nodded his head.

"So you two share the same father?"

"Mhm! He married my mom 5 years after his divorce to bug brother's." Sae noticed a sad look on the girl's face as she mentioned her mom, but decided to say nothing and switch the topic.

"Sorry if my mom jumped this idea onto you."

"Oh no! Not at all, I am just sorry that you had to bother yourself driving us here-"

"It's not a bother. I don't mind helping you. Besides, Marc is adorable when he talks about football, he seems passionate about it, more than I was at his age at least."

"He really is. He looks up to you and Isagi a lot, actually. It's always fun when he talks about a game of yours." (Y/n) smiled as Sae nodded his head.

"You sure you don't want me to carry him?" Sae asked as he held (Y/n)'s bags while she carried the sleeping boy out of the car.

"No Sae-san, you did honestly too much by now. Thank you so much again." (Y/n) smiled as the redhead stood silently for a moment, admiring her smile. Sae was about to speak up again, but someone clearing his throat behind them interrupted him.

"Anyways Itoshi, thank you for bringing my sister and son back, have a nice evening."

The two looked at a man, a few centimeters taller than Sae as he was glaring at him.

"Big brother! You are here already, I thought you were still at your mom's house." (Y/n) raised her eyebrow as Sae glared back at him.

"We had to cut the visit short since she wanted to visit you and dad as well. Come on now, she made your favorite cake." The (h/c)-haired man said as her took the bags out of Sae's hands and waited for (Y/n) to join him.

"Thanks again, Sae-san. Have a great evening!" (Y/n) smiled and the taller nodded his head. He watched the two walk towards the house and Sae couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"Great, now I have to deal with an overprotective brother..." Sae sighed as he smiled and got into his car.

"(Y/n), he is perfect for you!" The red-haired woman, Isabella said as she took her son from her.

"You two were spying?!" She asked in disbelief while looking at her dad and the woman.

"A little..."

"(Y/n)!"

"Sis!" (Y/n) and her sister-in-law looked at the father and brother, who were fuming.

"He is too old for you." The father said.

"Isn't he like 2 months or so older than (Y/n)?" The Portuguese woman questioned.

"Too old, and he looks like a punk." The brother butted in and the two females looked at each other in disbelief.

"Aahhhh!!" The next morning screams were heard through the (L/n) household as (Y/n) and her brother ran to the kitchen.

"What is it?!"

"Is someone hurt?!" They looked around frantically around the room, only to find their father pale as a ghost and Isabella.

"(Y/n), you never told me Sae proposed to you! Look! It also says you are pregnant! I will become an aunt, oh my God!" Isabella said as she showed the two this morning's newspapers, crying as (Y/n) gulped at the rage her brother was radiating.

"He touched you!"

"He didn't, I swear we are just friends!!"

"Come on honey, (Y/n) is an adult now." Isabella protested as her brother shook his head.

"She is still a baby!"

"I hate my life..." (Y/n) groaned as she saw the picture of her and Sae leaving the restaurant yesterday.

"SAE ITOSHI!" Rin and the said boy flinched as they heard their mom's yells while their father stayed silent, eating his breakfast.

"Yes mom?" The redhead asked as his mom stormed into the kitchen, holding her phone.

"I am offended, happy, hurt and excited, all because of you." His mom cried as Rin and the father looked at each other.

"What happened? I didn't do anything, I swear." Sae defended himself.

"Clealry you did. Look at this, my own son. My own flesh and blood won't tell me got engaged. And that I will be a grandma soon! Is that why you wanted me to meet (Y/n) yesterday?!" Rin spat out his drink while their father looked at Sae in disbelief. The redhead took his mom's phone and read the article she was showing him.

"Mom... (Y/n) and I aren't engaged, I swear and that meet up was an accident-"

"Really? Because you look all cozy holding her waist, Sae you fucking backstabbing brother!" Rin yelled, enraged at the picture. Sae started shouting back as their father tried to shut them up. Meanwhile their mom took her phone back and dialed a number while sobbing.

"Hello? Mom? Did you read this morning's newspaper?"

The arguments became louder as Minako continued sobbing.

"Yes, my poor baby seems to be embarrassed to admit it, but the girl is such an angel. I met her yesterday, finally we can pass the heirloom onto a girl. Oh! I already know some places where I can take her wedding dress shopping!" The woman cheered as Rin chucked a glass at Sae, who dodged it.

"Are you out of your mind, Rin?!" Their father yelled.

"Ahh~ no, Rinnie is just excited to be getting a sister-in-law AND a nephew or niece, he just doesn't know how to express it."

[wosoimagines]

Tall Tales - Alyssa Naeher/Reader

part one | part two

prompt: part two to Our Own Litle Book Club where Alyssa helps open up a book store.

warnings: none.

words: 1562

i hope you guys like this cause i'm hoping to get back into writing and maybe even setting a schedule for it to help keep me on track since i'm working two jobs and can get pretty busy these days cause i've really missed writing.

Y/N POV

“So, I have a surprise.”

Alyssa furrowed her brow as I pushed the box across the table toward her. I kept a close eye on her reaction as she opened the box.

Alyssa blinked once. Then twice. And then a third time before she reached into the box.

“Are you asking me to move in?”

I chuckled a little as Alyssa held the key up in between us.

“Not yet,” I shook my head. “I bought the place next door with the money I made from my book. Which reminds me, I really do need to do something for Rose the next time she’s in town since she recommended it to all of your teammates and on her Instagram.”

“Why did you buy the place next door?”

I looked down at the table as I fiddled with the mug that had my latte in it. I had wanted Alyssa’s opinion, but she had been so busy preparing for the World Cup and the last thing I wanted was for her to feel like she had to help me with it.

“I want to open a bookstore. Is it a bad idea?”

Alyssa stayed quiet as she put the key back into the box that was sitting on the table. We had only been together for a couple of months, but her opinion on this meant a lot to me. I held my breath until Alyssa reached across the table to grab ahold of my hand.

“I think it’s a great idea. Do you have a name for it?”

“That’s a work in progress,” I said as I grinned at her. “I was hoping that you’d help me with that. And maybe help me fix it up? I’m not in a rush and Arthur said he’d keep me on the schedule until 11 so that I could work on it in the afternoon until it’s ready to open and then we’ll come up with a plan for my schedule here too.”

“How much work needs to be done?”

“I could show you around when you finish that coffee.”

Alyssa shook her head as she turned back to her coffee that was only half gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I grinned as I stepped back once we had moved the bookshelf into place. Alyssa wiped the sweat off her brow as she joined my side.

“Now we just have to put the books on the shelves.” Alyssa let out a small groan as I waved her off. “I can do it tomorrow with the others.”

“You sure you want the others to put the books up with you?”

I rolled my eyes at that before I tossed the water bottle over to her. Alyssa had met most of the people I had hired but she had insisted that the two of us do the work ourselves to make it our little project.

“You have practice tomorrow and I have the day off from the coffee shop. Besides, it would help if the others know where everything is at so that they can help people find what they’re looking for when we open next week,” I said. I had been training everyone who was hired how to use our system, but it had been easy since a couple of the people coming to work at the bookstore also work at the coffee shop with me. “Besides, you have your national team camp to worry about.”

“I can always tell them that I have personal stuff going on. I want to be here for opening day.”

“Alyssa, you know you can’t do that,” I swatted at her shoulder. We had arguments over the topic that past few days now that I had set the date for my grand opening, and it happened to be while Alyssa was going to be at camp. She’d ultimately be in town as their national team camp was taking place in Chicago, but Alyssa was worried that she wouldn’t be able to stop by for opening day. “I won’t let you put your own career on hold because of me.”

“I want to.”

“And I don’t want you to. What if they refuse to call you up later because you took time away from the team?”

“Let me worry about that.”

“Absolutely not, Alyssa. I’m your partner, it’s part of my job to worry about you. I could never forgive myself if they refused to call you up because you took time for me.”

“So, you can support me as my partner, but I’m not allowed to support you.”

I sighed as I pinched the bridge of my nose. Alyssa didn’t even have a schedule for her camp days yet so there wasn’t any telling if she would have to miss opening day or not.

“Look, the team is coming for the soft launch. It was supposed to be a surprise in case you’re going to be busy on opening day,” I explained. I had reached out to Becky to help me set up the surprise. “You guys will be the first customers that we have. I wanted to make sure that you could still be a part of the opening, but I won’t let you put your own life on hold for me. And we’ll have the first book club meeting when you get done with camp. Okay?”

Alyssa stayed silent as she nodded her head. I was a little upset that I had to ruin the surprise, but if it helped to quell Alyssa’s nerves about possibly missing the opening day then I guess it wasn’t too bad to ruin the surprise.

“We’ll be the first customers?”

“Pinky promise.”

I held my pinky up so she could lock her own around mine. After all, pinky promises were the most important promises ever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I grinned as I rocked on my hills as the girls made their way toward me. I wrapped Alyssa up in a hug when she got close enough. We had been on the phone just this morning, but nothing compared to being able to see her in person.

“You ready to see how it turned out?” I softly asked her.

“You know I am.”

I pulled away from her before turning to unlock the door. I waited for the girls to pile into the store before I turned on the lights. Most of the girls gasped or squealed when they could finally see how the store turned out. I didn’t mind as they started to go about the store.

I did step up next to Alyssa though as I grabbed ahold of her hand. My eyes were drawn to the display that she was looking at. There were quite a few displays about the store. We had mystery book dates scattered throughout the store, along with a banned book display and even one for our employee favorites.

“In the beginning,” Alyssa read out loud. She looked down at me. “Are those the books we’ve recommended to each other?”

“I couldn’t have opened this place without you. I wanted to do something a little extra special for the two of us,” I admitted. I had even gone as far as to make sure that all the books were in order of how we had each recommended them to each other as just another way to tell our own story. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.”

“Good, because you guys are also working opening day as well.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, you guys are going to come and work opening day. More press for the store and you get to come to opening day.”

Alyssa grinned before she pulled me closer to give me a kiss. I couldn’t help but melt in her arms. I was getting to live my own little story and I wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Sonny called out, causing Alyssa and I to pull away from each other. Neither of us being comfortable with showing too much PDA around Alyssa’s teammates. “How did you get ‘Tall Tales’ for the name?”

“You don’t have to tell her,” Alyssa said to me, but I was already shaking my head at her.

“Alyssa loves telling me all of the national team tales you guys get up to and she’s tall, so it kind of just worked out perfectly.”

“I knew you loved all the shenanigans that we get up to, Uncle!”

Alyssa groaned at that.

“Is ‘shenanigans’ your word of the day, Sonnett?” Alyssa asked. I immediately brought my hand up to cover my mouth to keep the laughter from spilling out. “I’m so proud of you for being able to use such a big word in a sentence.”

“Don’t be mean,” I said as I pushed Alyssa away from me.

“Let’s be realistic,” Alyssa said. She caught sight of the book in Sonny’s hands. “Are you sure you should let her read your book? She might have trouble with some of the words and subtext and all the hidden meanings in it.”

“Hey!”

“It’s okay, Sonny. You can ask me all the questions about it,” I said to the blonde defender before turning to Alyssa. “And you are getting no more kisses until you can be nice to Sonny.”

Alyssa groaned at that as I moved closer to Sonny to talk to her about some of the themes that she would find in my book.

[aziraphales-library]

hello, i've been on the aziraphale-centric fics kick because he is one of my favorite characters ever :( <33 i wondered if you all have any azi centric fics to recommend? i really like hurt/comfort and hurt aziraphale :-) thank u <3

Hi. We have some Aziraphale-centric fics here, so check those out (it includes that one you're thinking of, so you don't need to add it in the notes). Here are some more...

A Gradual Acceleration by PunJedi (G)

Aziraphale has to deal with 6000 years worth of pent-up feelings and what happens when the world doesn't end on schedule. It's a tricky thing, love; his modus operandi has been to ignore it. But there reaches a point at which it simply cannot be ignored. Crowley is willing to wait, though.

It's Not The End Of The World by mellohirust (T)

“I think I'm still worried about… our old sides.” This is where he expects said bomb to explode. This is his fatal flaw, that he hasn't actually moved on, that things aren't actually as over as he wants them to be. It's all they've ever wanted, and they didn't truly have it. Not in his mind. Not somewhere deep within him, like a disease, like something he couldn't pry out of him. How selfish would he be, to drag the other down with him just for reassurance, force him to relive it all? Crowley stays quiet. Aziraphale feels as if he's confessed to something awful, like a part of him was fundamentally incompatible with the other. Aziraphale suspects both of these things could be the case and Crowley would love him anyway. He has it written down, somewhere in his mind, what Crowley ought to say. It’s not what he actually winds up saying. “Yeah,” the other finally mumbled, after what felt like eternity. He draws a breath. “Yeah, me too.” - Aziraphale hasn't been able to let himself rest in six thousand years. Crowley's determined to help him change that, even if addressing the root of the problem is more unpleasant and complicated than either would've hoped for.

So Still I Wait by HotCrossPigeon (T)

Aziraphale asks one too many questions. What is Heaven to do with their wayward Principality? Crowley picks up the pieces. (Solitary confinement warning)

A Hard World for Little Things by GiggleSnortBangDead (E)

When the Almighty Lord created the universe and decided that desire would exist within it, They hadn’t exactly said: “This shall go on top, and this on bottom.” But there was an ordering of things and a hierarchy of desire. That’s how it was explained to Aziraphale. All of us serve, he had been taught, and some of us are happy to serve a little more.

Night and Day by wyrmy (E)

Aziraphale Engel, black sheep of his strictly religious family, lives a quiet and monkish existence in the middle of London, trying to avoid the many temptations of the flesh and do his bit for the church that his father founded. But his quiet, untroubled, and unhappily narrow existence is about to come to an end, and he will be faced with the choice to give up even more of who he is or to survive in the real world.

Smitten at First Fright by Oopsynini (M)

Aziraphale has problems. No one needs to tell him so, he's well aware that his issues are many and in-between. He's an agoraphobic shut-in with a bad back and a sad past. It's a rule that, to most, he isn't much worth the effort of getting to know. Crowley doesn't seem to abide by any of that. He's an enigmatic gardener with a green thumb and a smile a thousand miles wide. It's something like love at first sight; if that included a panic attack and a minor foray into bird watching. Aziraphale is smitten, now if only he could get past his fears and admit it.

- Mod D

[accio-victuuri]

ONE NIGHT IN BEIJING & other sweets 🌃

when i first saw this song being discussed earlier, i was confused cause i don’t know what’s happening. lol. what’s with the song. i cannot trace where the screenshot is from but it says one of WYB’s favorite song is this, one night in beijing.

then a fan commented that XZ sang this in our song before ( not main performance ) and someone found a recording. did he discover the song because of that? was it on zz’s playlist at some point in the past and became his fave?

the song itself tho. very 👀👀👀

Don’t wish to ask where you have been

Don’t wish to wonder if you are ever returning

I’m thinking of your heart, I’m thinking of your face

I’m thinking of your embrace – I won’t let go, I just won’t

that’s just the first few lines and i’m here nodding my head that this fits his style of bittersweet song.

but this not even the interesting part….

Fans are thinking about how this relates to what’s been happening in the past few ways. The way we have speculated about 11/19 and WYB acting as the mystery driver again. Then him sharing a post on his weibo. One night in Beijing? Does he love that particular title cause it sometimes describes their meetings? They are often busy and one night is all they can get.

People are also pointing out the change in ZZ’s work schedule today. His LOCH sched starts early and ends in the evening or very late but the 5:30-6:00 AM call time for him is almost fixed. Yesterday, 11/22, WYB posts and we think they are together. What happens today? ZZ comes in “late” to work at 11:30 AM. So why the change? Was he spending time with Bobo? This reminds me of that time he was out of his schedule too when Bobo was sick.

A common argument from haters is how is a relationship between them possible. They are busy! Well.. this is how. since 2020, they have been meeting (allegedly) and even going to each other’s workplace ( allegedly lol repeating this to be safe ) It doesn’t matter how long, they make it work. You will always find time for the important people in your life.

Next, let’s move on to XZS post. On a Thursday. Also it perfectly coincides with their WB account reaching 10 million followers. The photos shared are behind the scenes content from ad shoots but the contrast of the photos stands out. Day & Night. The kadian they use, 14:23 loving zhan forever. Which goes to show that they do use it!

The caption gives us more insight on the choice of photos. Sun & Moon. Another symbolism that is popular with CPFs Sun/Sunshine & Moon.

“It is the perfect moment, just like when the gentle light meets the rising moon.”

I think the english translation doesn’t give that much deeper meaning that we clowns love. so we gotta take it to the next level 🙃🙃🙃

"Fuguang" and "Wangshu" are both important elements in Chinese culture. "Fuguang" comes from the works of Song poets in the Southern Dynasties, which means sunlight or sunlight."Wangshu" is a god in Chinese mythology and legend, representing the moon and can be used to describe moonlight'. The two can be combined to show that lovers support each other and move towards a bright future together.

This caption aligns to WYB posting a photo yesterday that shows the 🌙. So does this mean WYB is the Moon & ZZ is the Sun/light? I have to say that it fits with their personality ( tho Bobo is warm and ZZ has his moments of being cold too but you know what I mean, for symbolic purposes only ok. ) I am loving this imagery between them! I hope we can have more reference in the future.

I’m cackling at this tho. The progression of posts, WYB’s caption was a reminder that it’s getting colder > YBO reposts and says to wear warmer clothes > XZS posts and GG is wearing a cozy sweater 😂 As if saying that yep, he has worn warmer clothes. LOL.

and xzs and ybo are at it again, the photo ybo shared yesterday was showing wyb’s back and xzs shared something similar today as the last photo in the grid. i’m sure they have lots of photos that show his face or close ups of his body like his hand but they had to choose this as the finale.

i mean thank you, this will make it easier for us to edit them together 😂😂😂

Bonus, the “light” photos appear to form an 8 = bo. (p1) is a himalaya episode about the 8 of diamonds card forming an 8. What a coincidence!

-END.

[ladylooch]

Birthday Suit - [Mack X David]

A/N: Happiest of birthdays to our 👢 anon! We are so grateful to you for providing us with Our Little Family! Personally, I'm grateful for you support, friendship, and always talking AUs in the DMs. I hope you have a wonderful birthday. Please know that you are loved and appreciated here 😘

Timeline wise, Mack and David have been hooking up for a few weeks at this point, but are not dating. 

Word Count: 4.3k

Late on a Friday night in New York City, Mackenzie Hischer stuffs the gold key to her apartment unit into the lock, flipping it open and dashing into the darkness. The minute the apartment air wraps around her skin, she feels herself beginning to decompress. She just spent the last six hours smiling and laughing, shaking hands with sponsors, to help keep her job funded for the next year. She knows it was all a huge success, with discussions beginning to happen as early as next week for more features she will do later in the year. At this rate, her schedule is almost completely full, which is impressive for a first year journalist in her field. 

Her right hand wraps around the heel of her red pump, sliding it off her foot. She drops down three inches, then pulls the other one off. Her bare feet savor their freedom, ceasing the non-stop cramping she has been trying to shake off since hour three. Mack  moves to her bedroom, throwing herself onto her bed in a tired heap. She pulls her phone out, beginning to scroll through the 50 notifications she has from various apps. 

The first place she goes is to Messages. She bites her lip, not seeing anything worth responding to right now. She clicks into her message from David. The last time she heard from him was three days ago after she stopped by for a post-game romp. He had asked her to stay, she said no, so he asked her to text him when she got home that night. His last message was:

Glad you’re safe. Sleep well 😘

She re-reads the message again, then sighs, flipping over to Instagram to doom scroll through her friend’s various Switzerland themed posts. She checks the time, realizing most of them are getting ready to start their Saturdays. Photos of European markets, the ski slopes, and pastries fill her feed until she gets to a post from the New York Rangers, wishing their #14 a happy birthday. She perks up, slowly moving back into a sitting position. 

It’s David’s birthday.

He didn’t mention that when she was him last, nor has she heard anything from him today. She double checks the date on the post, then contemplates. Should she text him? Should she quick try to order something for him to have ready for when she sees him next? Ugh no. That’s not appropriate. She scrolls past the post, not sure how to handle this new information. Her sister posted a picture with David and Stella, saying happy birthday to Stella’s favorite Ranger. Mack chuckles at Connor’s pouty response on his wife’s post. She hovers over the heart button, then likes it. She scrolls up to the Rangers post and likes that too, then takes a screenshot. 

Before she can think it through fully, Mack sends the picture to David.

You up, birthday boy?

Mack tosses her phone to the end of the bed, closing her eyes to give them a rest while she waits to see where the rest of her night is going.

I’m older than you, but not that old.

Mack giggles. Her body awakens at fleeting thoughts of the last time his hands were on her. The sex keeps getting better and better every time they have each other, surprising considering how glorious their first time was. If Mack was honest, she’s starting to crave his skin on hers at the most inappropriate times, but tonight isn’t one of them.

Are you up for one more birthday present?

Mmmm, what do you have in mind, Mackncheese?

Mack bites her lip, looking over at her dresser where various, unused pieces of lingerie are resting in a drawer. No she doesn’t have a gift he can take home with him, but she has herself, willing and interested. She is thankful her makeup is done and presentable. All she needs to do is put on a little more lipstick, then she changes into a blue teddy she’s been wanting to wear since her spontaneous purchase of it in Paris. 

Going with modestly, she takes a few pictures with her silk robe, letting it fall slightly off her shoulder so he can see what’s underneath. 

Any interest in coming this way?

Give me twenty minutes.

She smirks at his instant response, then falls back onto the bed. Men are so easy. Every minute passes painfully slow. Her heart rate accelerates then evens out. Her stomach dips and swells in anticipation of seeing him. This all feels dangerously like crush territory, but she figures that’s normal. They are regularly hooking up, so it’s natural to be excited about seeing him.

When fifteen minutes have passed, she gets up, heading out to the living room to wait for him in the kitchen after pouring herself a quick glass of wine. She sucks it down, then runs her tongue over her teeth, feeling the warmth spread out from her chest to the rest of her body. It’s a minuscule buzz that takes away any waining apprehension about letting him see her like this. 

Ron buzzes up to her apartment, asking if she is expecting a “David Carlson” again. Mack blushes but allows Ron to send him up. She adjusts the tie of her robe, then waits for his confident knock on her door. A smirk stretches her lips, then she rolls her neck, allowing her greedy need to begin to consume her body. All she wants is for him to touch her tonight, stroke a fire and frenzy in her core, put it out, then leave her to fall asleep in a satisfied, uninterrupted heap. 

Mack opens the door for him. He grins at her, stepping forward immediately to carefully back her into the apartment again. He kicks the door shut with a slam that makes Mack jump a bit.

“Sorry.” He mumbles against her lips. “Gonna kill me sending pictures lookin’ like this.” Mack holds onto his huge shoulders as he continues to walk them backwards. Her body buzzes with his hands on her hips. The back of her knees hit the arm of her couch. He sets her down onto it, then pulls apart the satin robe. 

“I didn’t know it was your birthday today.” Mack murmurs. “I would have bought you-”

“I don’t like my birthday.” He cuts her off. “Plus this is a nice present.”

Warmth fills Mack’s chest as he steps back to take her in. Her pink nipples are budding through the blue lace, catching his attention. Then he glides his gaze the rest of the way down her. He takes her hand, then pulls her back into a standing position. His hands come to her hips, twisting her so her back is to him. 

He kisses the vertebrae of her neck, then raises his fingers to the collar of her robe, slowly maneuvering the silk down her warm skin. Mack shivers at being fully exposed. The robe gets tossed onto the plush, arm chair, then he steps back again. Mack stands there for a moment, feeling his hot gaze troll over the curves of her ass. She looks over her shoulder at him, watching as he drags his eyes begrudgingly from her ass to her face. 

He steps forward, bringing her lips to his at that angel. He pulls her hips flush with his, letting her feel his hard arousal press into her ass. David forces his tongue into her mouth, lapping and swirling to taste her fully. The fingers of his right hand glide past her stomach, feeling over her belly button, then hovering above her clothed core. He pulls away before he presses the tips against her clit. Mack’s eyelids flutter, losing the battle to stay open. It’s only been three days, but she is drunk on how he touches her.

At this rate, he is ruining her for anyone else, but Mack doesn’t particularly care. 

David’s lips cover hers again. His other hand slides up her chest to grip the side of her neck. He holds her head steady as he rolls two fingers into her clit and makes love to her mouth. Mack’s body leans into his, her back pressing to his strong chest. She brings a hand behind her butt, giving his thick shaft a squeeze. David grinds his hips into her hand as she sighs a moan to him. His fingers slide from her clit to her entrance. He moves the wet fabric aside there, feeling how soaked she is for him. 

He pulls away from her mouth in a lust haze, watching the widening and softening of her eyes as he slips a finger inside of her. 

“Fuck, honey.” He groans when she drags her swollen bottom lip between her teeth. “You’re going to look so good getting fucked on this couch.” He grins down at her, then kisses her softly while sliding his finger out of her. He pushes at her hips, but Mack shakes her head, turning in his grasp.

Her hands work their way from his shoulders down his chest as she falls to her knees in front of him. Her eyes trail down from his to his zipper. She licks her lips, kissing his bulge over the denim of his jeans. David holds her face as she slides him from his unbuttoned pants. She rolls her hand up the hard velvet, then kisses the tip to hear him hiss. While maintaining eye contact, she lays her flattened tongue at the base of his cock then licks a straight, seductive line up. She is patient in her pursuit to his tip, hugging the thick vein at the bottom of his shaft until his head knocks back towards the ceiling, then she sucks his pulsing head between her lips. His knees lock into place and he sways slightly forward, resting a hand on top of her head for balance.

“F-fuck.” He blinks, exhaling heavily, then looking down at her face. Her wet cheeks collapse inwards as she sucks him harder. His head rolls back towards the ceiling again. Mack increases the tempo, adding her hand around the remaining length that won’t fit in her mouth. She strokes her hand and mouth simultaneously. “Honey, you’re a star.” He murmurs to her.  “You suck my cock like it’s your favorite thing to put in your mouth.”

“Maybe it is.” She murmurs, sucking his tip while letting her hand fall away to grip one of her breasts. 

“Holy…” He trails off, rubbing at his jaw. He collects his bottom lip against his pointer finger, pulling it down as he moans again. Mack relaxes her mouth more, taking in as much of him as she physically can. His hand comes to the back of her head, resting there respectfully as he praises her. “So fucking good, honey. Shit, I could come down your throat right now.” He moves his fingers around to her chin, cupping it and pulling her off him. “But that’s not why I’m here.” His eyes darken.

“Why are you here?”

“To hear you scream my name while you ride me.” He smirks, giving her his hand to help her back to her feet.

“Sure, but only because it’s your day.” She teases, taking his hand and leading him towards the hallway to her bedroom. David raises an eyebrow at her taking him to her bed. He hasn’t been there yet. They’ve mostly fucked and fooled around on her couch. But tonight, Mack wants the comfort of her King mattress, not to awkwardly fumble around on the couch.

Mack looks around her bedroom with fresh eyes, realizing how feminine it probably looks to him. It’s mostly white, with accents of pastel blues and pinks. The comforter is huge and cozy, perfect for cold nights like this in the winter. David flips the light on when they get in. Their hands drop as Mack goes to the side of the bed, watching him as he soaks in her space. He fingers a fake plant coming out of a vase on her dresser, then chuckles at her with a questioning look.

“It’s art.” She cuts him off before he can say anything.

“Sure, honey.” He murmurs, then goes to the picture on her dresser of her parents and sisters. He places it face down. “Not gonna let Captain Hischier see what I’m about to do to his daughter.” Something about the gentle respectiveness of this entire moment has a searing heat sizzling in Mack’s core. She watches him look round the room, noting the art on the walls, the soft rug beneath the bed and the plush, coziness she has created by filling her bed with pillows. He’s so fucking sweet and hot and good. Mack can’t hold back the urge to touch him, stretching her fingers out anxiously by her hips. 

David turns back towards her and Mack rushes around the bed to reach for him. They meet in the middle with a renewed frenzy of hands and lips. Their heavy breathing engulfs the room as they touch each other, awakening a new urgency. 

“Smells good in here.” He murmurs as he backs her up.

“It’s a vanilla candle.” She breathes out.

“Mmm, sweet like you, honey.”

He reaches his hands under her thighs, lifting her up onto the bed easily. He crawls on between her legs, forcing her back towards her pillows. When she doesn’t move fast enough, he picks her up around the waist, hauling her with him, then drops her onto her pillows. Together, they shove them off the bed, letting the decor fly to the left and right so they can get comfortable together. He grips her chin, kissing her deeply, letting his mustache tickle at her nose before he kisses over to her jaw, yearning for her throat so he can feel her moan vibrate on his mouth while he grinds his bare bulge between her legs. 

“As much as I love this… it’s gotta go.” He smirks, pulling off the strap of her top. He kisses the line it dug into her shoulder, then follows the falling cup down to her nipple. He sucks it into his mouth, releasing it with a slurp, then repeats those actions with the other side. 

His hands drag the teddy down her body, revealing new slices of her skin to kiss. Mack dashes her fingers through his hair as he licks back up her stomach. He hovers over her mouth again, smiling when she takes his hard cock in her hand. 

“Had to take a break there.” He murmurs, thrusting his hips forward into her hand.

“You about done?” She whispers. 

“Mhm.” He kisses her nose, then rolls to the side of her to take off his pants, but not before grabbing a sleeve of condoms from his back pocket. He rips one off, then slaps it in her awaiting palm. He tosses the rest onto her nightstand. Mack raises to her knees. David brings a hand to the back of her knee, then trails it up her thigh to her ass. He massages the full cheek there, watching her hand roll the latex down his shaft. He adjusts it slightly at the tip then pats her butt to hop on. 

They watch each other as David grips the base of his shaft for her, guiding her wet heat down him. Their mouthes drop open in unison, little noises spilling out as she settles down on him. 

“Oof.” Mack mutters. David notes her discomfort, lifting her up gently, keeping her up at a lesser depth until she moves his hand away. She settle down on him completely again, then moves her hips forward and back along his abdomen. David’s legs harden under her resisting the urge to push them further until she is ready. Mack tries to breathe through the stretch, but it is painful. So much that she can’t ignore the pure terror at the thought of him thrusting up into her this way. “Maybe not this position, actually.” Mack mumbles. 

“Okay.” He says, helping her off him. “What do you need?” He cups her face, kissing her lips. His thumb presses into her lips. She kisses it, closing her eyes for a moment, trying not to be disappointed she can’t give him what he wants right now. 

“Um…” She shakes her head, distracted by the dull ache settling between her legs.

“How about you lay on your back, honey? Then I can control the depth.” 

“Okay.” She nods. She bites her lip, laying down. He smiles gently at her, kissing her lips.

“I’m big.” He reminds her. “If it’s not good for you, then we need to stop. Okay?”

“Yes.” She agrees.

But that’s the last they need to hear about anything not being good for her. David wets his fingers with his mouth, rolling them through her folds, focusing on her entrance, then presses his plumped head into her pussy. Mack swallows him more comfortably, stretching in a delectable way that has her hips trying to list off the bed. 

“Behave.” He mumbles above her, smirking at her eagerness. 

“I don’t like to behave around you.” She mewls back. He chuckles, then rocks his hips in a way that has Mack gasping. “Oh.” She moans.

“Fuck, you feel like heaven.” He mumbles into her mouth. “Made for me.” 

Mack cups his head, fingers rushing through his black hair as she holds him to her throat. His thrusts are slow but deep, wakening her up and softening her resolve. Her walls contract around him, pulling him deeper than he is trying to go, which makes him groan in appreciation for how well she has adjusted to him. His hips roll deeper into her, curly hair tickling her clit with his thrusts creating an erotic sensation that has Mack’s eyes rolling back into her head.

“Right there.” She whispers. “Keep going… don’t stop. Please.”

Her words fall from her mouth like breath, escaping without her trying to push them out. His arms come under her shoulder to hold her neck, other hand bringing her leg around his hips. Their bodies move like a wave, hips thrusting and colliding with each other in blissful slaps. Mack crunches up, kissing along his shoulder for a moment. Her head falls down, only half on the pillow as his thrusts explode through Mack’s core. David pulls away from her neck, looking down at her face. His hand moves from her hip, bringing the pillow more under her head to keep her comfortable. Mack’s eyes close, she moans loudly, then comes with a bang around him.

“Oh my god.” She squeaks as he works her through every flutter of her orgasm. He is biting down on his bottom lip to keep focus, then slows his thrusts when he feels her relax down into his arms. “I wanna ride you now. I can do it.” She practically begs him. She wants to watch him come undone under her, because of her. 

“Yes, honey. Whatever you want.” He smirks, then hits his back again. His hands reach for her, helping her climb on top, not that she needs it. That first orgasm was great, but she’s chasing another high already. 

She lines herself up with him again, gliding down him better now that she is sickened from her first round. She drops down on him, forcing her ass cheeks to slam into the top of his thighs.

“Oh fuck.” David groans, running a hand over his face. His other hand comes to her hip. “Look so good up there.” He compliments her, top lip curling up in a slight sneer as she moves slowly on him. “You got more in you than that.” He demands, slapping her ass. “Give it to me, girl.” 

Mack rolls her eyes, leaning over his face, palm pressed into the bed below him. Everything around him is girly and feminine, but his dark, masculine presence overshadows all the frills and fuss, taking over her room and senses like he owns the damn place. But he doesn’t and Mack thinks she should remind him of who is in charge here.

“Keep your hands on the bed.” She murmurs, kissing along his nose. He pulls his hands away from her hips, letting her fuck him the way she wants to. 

Her hips snap and roll, forward backwards, up and down, working his cock like a seasoned vet.  His hands grip into fists on the bed, taking some of her comforter in his palm, wrinkling it against his skin. Mack sits up, pressing her biceps into her breasts to make them tight and bounce right over his face. David is speechless, for once in his damn life. He raises his neck, trying to catch a nipple. Mack puts her hand on his neck, forcing him back down. 

“Be good.” She snaps at him. He laughs, eyes rolling back into his head.

“You know, honey. I think I like this version of you the best.” He grits out. “Fucking me like that. Shit.” His eyes close, a blissed out smile covering his mouth as she falters slightly from how good she feels stuffed full of him. He opens his eyes feeling her legs struggling a bit. “Don’t quit on me now, Hischier. Not when I’m about to cum this fucking hard.” His teeth are mashed together, words barely getting out through the thin spaces. His hips begin to move under her, pressing her up when her legs give out a bit more. It feels too good. Mack has to surrender to him, knowing his powerful thighs can do the rest of this job easily.

“C-Can’t help it. Touch me. I need you.” She begs, reaching up to hold her breasts. David’s hands fly to her hips, then he forces her into a tight rhythm, hard and fast, punishing almost, until they both fly over the edge into the abyss. David gushes into the condom, savoring her ripples, careful as he works her up and down his cock a few more times to finish himself fully off. Mack collapses onto his chest like goo, unable to hold herself in any type of position except horizontal. David’s hand goes to her hair, holding her cheek on his shoulder as he tries to catch his breath. 

“Happy birthday.” She whispers to him. David’s face gets lost in her hair to kiss her scalp.

“Thank you.” He responds quietly.

In ten minutes, the aftermath of their sex has been washed from their bodies and they lay together in silence, soaking in the warmth of each other’s skin. Mack’s eyes droop, tired from a long day, ready to surrender to the tiredness that collects in her veins. Beneath her, David’s chest rises and falls consistently. His hand trolls up and down her arm, until he twitches hard, inhaling deeply to awaken himself.

“I should go.” He mumbles, rubbing at his face with his free hand. He drops a kiss to her head, then rolls out from under her.

A big yawn stretches his lips apart as he works his jeans back into place. He pulls down on the bunched up crotch, then rushes the zipper back into place. He looks around for his shirt as he buttons himself back up. Mack watches him from the comfort, warm cocoon of her bed, feeling bad that he has to drag himself back across town after 1:00am.

She should let him stay. It’s the decent thing to do.

“What’s your day tomorrow?” She inquires. 

“Ah, day off again. Coach is giving us some rest.” He yawns again, leaning down to pick up his shirt by her dresser.

“Oh… Well, maybe you want to stay then?” He pauses with his shirt at his biceps. 

“I…” He trails off, then licks his lips. He drops his arms and cocks his head at her. “You’re gonna have to ask. You don’t get outta this by making some half assed statement.” Mack hides her grin, rolling her eyes to seem annoyed.

“I just don’t want your blood on my hands when you tiredly drive off into a ditch.”

“In New York City?” He chuckles.

“Okay, fair. Or onto a sidewalk and killing innocent people.” 

“So I would be staying over purely for safety purposes?”

“Mhm.” 

“Okay, but you still got to ask.” 

“Ugh! You’re so annoying. Will you stay? Pleeeease.” She huffs at him.

“Okay, geez, I’ll stay.” He holds his hands up at her, making a show of dropping his shirt.“You just want me safe for my dick.” He jokes as he works his jeans back off so he is naked again.

“Is it that obvious?” She wonders, batting her lashes at him.

“Yeah.” He nods. “But I’m okay with it.” He walks over to the light, switching it off to allow darkness to take over the room.

Mack grins, collecting him back into her arms as he crawls under the covers with her. 

“This is a nice bed.” He compliments her.

“Mhm. It’s the one house thing I always spend good money on.” He nuzzles his stubbled cheeks into her chest.

“Could get used to this.” He mumbles against her left breast. Mack presses her lips into his hair, rubbing his shoulders with her fingers.

She could too.

Fuck.

Read more Mack and David here.

[russellsppttemplates]

From the start, it was you (George Russell)

The heart doesn't seem to choose by team colours

Note: english is not my first language. This is the first driver!reader I've ever written, so I hope I've done a good job. Also, I did not plan to post this piece specifically now, but seems fitting with the whole shitshow that has been going on the past couple of days. Also, this is a plot I've seen written a lot, so I know there are many other pieces that are way better, and hopefully my take on it isn't too bad!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: race collision, medical exams, curse words, gender inequality comments

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

Your purple race suit made you stand out amongst all of the other kids as you walked back from the podium, proudly smiling at your trophy, "Y/N! We're here!", you heard your father as he waved so you'd know where they stood, "congratulations, darling! That was an impressive overtake you did there in the last lap!", he praised, scratching your head before placing a kiss there, "I was trying to get first, but I couldn't get it", you admitted it, looking sideways at the boy who you couldn't take the first place from.

George Russell was a tall boy, same age as you, so you often raced against eachother. While you had become friends with some of the other kids, Russell wasn't one of them. It began when you tried to congratulate him for his P3 a few years ago, stretching your hand out politely, a smile on your face as he turned his back to you, mumbling something as he walked towards his parents. So, you weren't the best of friends if anyone asked.

"Y/N, darling, go stand next to the boys so I can take a picture of you! It will be such a good memory for when you're older!", your mother said excitedly, making you, George and the boy that finished his race behind you on each of your sides, smiling at the camera and hoping it would be as quick as possible, not wanting to stand next to him for a second longer than you should.

.

"I have your media day schedules here", Mary said as she handed you and Oscar your respective schedules, "Y/N, you're going to get interviewed with Charles, Yuki, George and Fernando", she stated as she then moved on to Oscar, explaing a few things to him since he was going first.

"And Y/N, while you're in there, try not to kill George, even with your eyes, okay?", she advised, tapping your shoulder softly as you looked at her sideways, "last time you were both in the same panel, you managed to be out of qualifying", she nodded, "only because our car wasn't that reliable, and we all know how theirs is", you pointed out, smiling sweetly and hoping to get on her side, "you're lucky you don't annoy me too much, Y/N", she smiled back.

The team had made many improvements to the car, granting you and Oscar the possibility to aim for higher places on the grid, and since you were a nerd about all things engineering, too, you loved when you were asked about the topic. But lately, the questions about the car seemed to get asked to your teammate Oscar, leaving the excuse that "the journalists already have the information they need", and because they didn't want to be accused of not asking you questions like it had happened before, it seemed to divert to other topics.

"Y/N, here", one of the journalists waved, grabbing your attention, "With the recent events and new propositions from the F1 Academy, do you think the sport is going to suffer from having a bigger opportunity that's being given to women in motorsport?", your heard him say, making your blood boil.

Despite the constant raised awareness for gender discrimination and discrimination in motorsport, especially in the last couple of years, some people still had it pretty engraved in their system, and while sometimes it came out looking a little bit more subtle, this one didn't even bother to soften the edges.

You'd be lying if you said this was the first time you heard these comments directed at you, or that you thought it would be the last, no matter how much you wished some sort of disciplinary measure was taken, "I woul-", you began before you heard a loud clash on the floor and felt water on your legs. The trousers you were wearing were soaked around your thighs and knees as George got up to grab the bottle that belonged to him, "I'm so sorry, Y/N", he apoligised as he put the lid back on, "I think it's best if we call it a day, hm? The next group needs to have this cleaned before they come in here", the Mercedes driver said as everyone seemed to agree and get up, bidding goodbye as Charles and George stayed until the end.

"Careful, don't slip", the monegasque driver said, making sure you wouldn't fall and walking out of the room with you, "figures the guy wouldn't even be here to check if everything's fine", you muttered as Charles chuckled, "you two really are like the cat and the mouse".

"He's not even here! He just flew off to his fancy room to delight in the joy of making fun of me", you grumbled, bidding goodbye to Charles as you found yourself by the entrance of Ferrari.

Walking the distance to meet your team, Mary was the first to get you, "I'm sorry they asked that", she said, "it's a good thing Russell spilled his drink", she teased, knowing you wouldn't want to dwell on the comments for long. It hardly solved the problem and you'd look into it in the team meeting when the time called for it, "promise you won't take him out in the race?".

Laughingly at her assumption and the fact that she had managed to pull you out of your misery as you walked to you driver's room, "don't worry, and tell the guys downstairs to now worry either, they're not going to have to build me a new car either", you flashed a smile before closing the door, changing into another pair of trousers you had brought with you.

.

"You're starting P4, Y/N", your race engineer said over the radio, "we are going to give it our all to support you and help you".

"And I'm going to drive the beat I can for you guys. Today, we get orange flying around and its going to be because of the Papaya team", you smiled under your helmet, "Oscar is P6, so I think we can even aim for a Podium, depends on how things go", you said.

As soon as the lights went out, you reacted quickly and passed the car that had been sitting next to yours, your race engineer confirming your third place and giving you a run down of all the grid changes.

"Do us proud, you're doing well, good pace", you heard on your speakers. You were enjoying the drive, analysing the data without team and looking for the right opportunity to overtake Charles, "go after the next turn, Y/N. Charles' tyres are not looking so good, so we think you have the upper hand there. George's car seems to be having some issues, too, he won't go after you", the pit wall channeled in your radio.

You looked in your mirrors as you were about to make the overtake, having patiently waited to reach the specific turn and going with it, confident that you would be able to overtake the red car.

A fraction of a second, you would always say, was game changing in Formula One. A decision to overtake or stay back, to accept the call to the pits or a new strategy, sometimes all it took was less than a second. And it also took less than a second for your car to start spinning, making you remove your hands from your steering wheel and brace yourself for the collision that would soon enough happen.

The impact wasn't as hard as you had expected, having felt most of it in your hips and shoulders. Groaning, you opened your eyes to see the damage, hearing "Y/N, can you tell us if you are okay?" over the radio.

Pressing the button, you heard the equipment's buzz, "I'm okay. I'm sorry about the car, guys", you gulped, adjusting yourself, "another car tapped me, right? Are they okay?", you asked, "George's fine from what we've heard".

After the marshalls confirmed you were free to go with the medical car to get checked over, you were back in the hospitality as the race continued, "doctor said I'll have some bruises, nothing too bad though", you gave them the report as you apoligised and thanked everyone on your side of the garage.

"Turns out they'll have to build you a new car after all", Mary offered as she hugged you, "if Russell had been more careful, this could've ended differently", you groaned.

"From what I've heard, he was trying a risky move and the car had an issue and locked up. He lost control of it and his front wing tapped your rear wheels just about enough to cause the crash", she explained, "it's not like he purposefully wanted to take you out", she reasoned.

"I know, it's just not ideal", you sighed, "we could both be in there". On the screen, Oscar was sitting P2, having successfully overtaken Charles a few laps in after the race resumed.

Even though George was far from your friend, you still wanted to check if he was okay, specially after seeing the impact the crash had on his car, too.

Walking to the Mercedes hospitality, a few people stopped you on your tracks briefly to express their relief on seeing you up and about and wishing you well before you found yourself by the glass doors.

"Is George here? I'd like to see if he's doing alright, but only if that's okay, I'm sure you're busy", you asked one of the media girls, Holly, recognising her from previous encounters.

"He's in his driver's room, yes, let me walk you there", she smiled, walking with you and knocking on the door, "George, may I come in?", she asked before he gave a positive answer, "Y/N is here, she wanted to talk to you", she stated, backing up so you could be seen, "yes, that's alright", the tall man said as Holly held out her arm, gesturing you to walk inside the room as she closed the door behind her, most likely going back to work on the race content.

"Hey", you waved awkwardly, "I don't have any other way to contact you, and asking your team how you were didn't seem... right? So, yeah, I came here", you gulped, suddenly feeling a weird pressure to act properly, whatever that meant.

"I'm good, barely got a scratch since I was able to stop the car before it hit the barriers", George explained, "and you? It looked pretty bad", he checked.

"I have some bruises, I think the adrenaline is slowing down now, so it's a bit painful, but nothing major", you clarified.

"The car had some issue and there was not way to control it, I just let it go because there wasn't anything I could do. I'm very glad you're okay", he half smiled as he looked at you.

In all the years you've known him and interacted with him, there had never been a time where he was this relaxed and smiley around you, not even when he had overtaken you in the last lap of the race. And while it was new, it was also comfortable.

"Me too, it looked scarier than it felt, though", you offered as he grabbed his water bottle to take a sip from it, "Oh, close the lid properly on that one", you chuckled playfully, not imagining the backlash and reaction it would have.

The new and comfortable mood turned back to the old and expecting one.

"Do you really think I'm that clumsy to drop a bottle like that? I wanted to get us out of there, to get you out of there because they were asking sexist questions", he stated, "and I didn't do it because I thought you couldn't defend yourself, because you sure know how to stop your foot and put it down, but because they don't deserve your time like that. Hell, I wish you spent that little time with me instead!", George yelled out, not missing your shocked expression, "maybe there was a time that I didn't like how you just showed up and got things done, but in the end, it's not because it's you, or because you're a woman. I wanted to be the one to show up and get things done, because I admire you so much", he gulped.

"So you're saying it's my fault that I've been labelled a bad sport because we constantly fight out there? That's why you've hated me?", your defensive side turned up, not dwelling on his kind words.

"I'm not saying it is either of our fault! I'm just trying to explain to you that I don't hate you like you think I do", he put his hands on his hips, walking around his room, "you might hate me, and that's fine, you know? I'm not going to be the one to tell you how you should feel, that's not how it works, but I have never hate you.

"I might've said I hated you when we were little, but that's because you probably stole my place on the podium, and even that was probably well deserved. I never thought I'd feel like this about you", he concluded.

"And what is it that you feel about me? Because I would like a warning should you want to beat me up to deal with all it is that you're feeling...?", you gestured to his stance. Was he saying he didn't hate you? Did he have other feelings that were actually in the happiness section of the emotion wheel and not near the anger section?

Chuckling, he approached you, "I have had feelings for you since we started driving in F2. At first I thought it was just the thrill of the competition and of having someone to challenge me, and when you got the Mclaren seat, I was so happy that you'd be racing against me", he further offered, "I don't know when it came out that we hated eachother, and when you didn't seem to feel otherwise, I tried to hate you, or at least dislike you, and it wasn't working, so I just let it go however it went, and it's led me here. And I'm being honest with you, so laugh all you want, or deal with it however you want to", he raised his hands as he excused himself.

"George, I nerve said anything because I can't afford to say those things. How many rivalries have you seen in motorsport? So many, and many more that are not written in books and shown off in videos. And none of them have apoligies to offer, or rather, the very few that have done it, turned out okay. But if I was the one to talk about it? A female driver talking about how she cares that her colleagues and her have a good relation and that they don't hate eachother like the press wants people to believe?", you scoffed, "That's not on my books, that's not something I can consider.

"And I don't hate you, George. For Goodness' sake, I came here to see of you were alright. Any other person would've yelled that you ruined their race, but I understand that there are things we can't control and shit like this happens. It sucks, but that's how it is. Like Charles says all the time, 'sometimes it's like this'", you giggled, "I actually think you're a pretty decent guy", you blushed.

Over the years, the bickering had only spurred you on even more, and maybe it wasn't just the thrill of seeing him so on edge that made you continue to do so.

"So you're saying you've never hated me?",

George said as he offered you his chair to sit down as he prepared tea for both of you, "Maybe I didn't like you so much when we did karting, but that was just because you were really tall and actually gave me fair competition", you winked.

[lapis-lights]

04 | I Love You For Infinity

'Falling From Grace' Series Finale

[Vendetta!Leon Kennedy x Reader]

Song Title: Infinity by Jaymes Young

Content Warnings: Near death, Lots of gun violence, Experimental Stuff, They finally get to be happy :D

Word Count: 13.9k

Author's Notes: Here we are at the finale :') I really really hoped you guys liked this series as I spent such a long time on it. I know some things were out of character but hey! We live and we learn, yeah?

I'm working on drafting up potential ideas and blurbs for the next big story project so I hope you guys will stick around for that :D

Posts are scheduled for 8 a.m. EST every day until the series is complete!

Series Masterlist

Ao3

Summary: You and Leon have finally found common ground as you take your final stand against the J.I.E., but not everything comes up roses. Though, no matter what, Leon's hand is in yours and it was something you would face...together.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

'Cause you're the reason I believe in fate, you're my paradise. And I'll do anything to be your love or be your sacrifice. 'Cause I love you for infinity....

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

The next days are spent meticulously losing yourselves in the files you’d recovered from the J.I.E lab but also losing yourselves in each other. 

A switch had flipped in the atmosphere between you two and the abrupt shift from avoiding Leon to not being able to stand being away from him for more than a few minutes was enough to give you emotional whiplash. 

There are nights where he takes it nice and slow, worshiping your body and rolling his hips deeply into you just to watch your face contorted in pleasure. There are times he fucks you so desperately that all you can do is hold on for dear life and let him do all the work. There are days where you tug each other away from papers and reports and bioweapons to relax, offering up the suggestion of stress release that usually ends with one of you blissed out while the other takes gentle care of them. 

Sometimes Leon will go on errand runs that leave you regrettably on your lonesome, until he returns and catches you by surprise. You don't even get a chance to greet him at the door before his head is between your thighs, licking hotly into your core eagerly while you mewl helplessly above him. You're sure housekeeping is frustrated with your constant requests to change the sheets daily. 

It's not just sex, though. There are times you doubt that this is as permanent as he promises. There are moments where you stare listlessly and wonder when Leon will realize that you're not what he wants before leaving you in a cold bed one morning. While it never happens, he's always quick to soothe those fears with a gentle kiss and an offer to make cups of coffee for the both of you. Never does he berate you for thinking so sillily as your past partners had done, but rather he listens and quiets those thoughts with a tender press of his lips to the back of your hand. 

You're hopelessly in love with him, it's not even funny. You try and give back tenfold of everything he does for you, holding him during restless nights and staying up as late as you can when he can't find the strength to go to sleep. 

One night, you had read to him, voice laced with sleepiness but persisting nonetheless because you wanted to help him. Leon's head rested against your chest, reading along with you but not really doing but more than staring at patterned ink on the page. In reality, he would later tell you he was simply listening to your voice.

"Death is of happenstance, when we ebb and fade from the minds of others long after our indestructible destruction. We live and die in memories," you read sleepily, having selected a random book from off one of the shelves in the room. "The bittersweet taste of your absence on my tongue is nothing compared to the confectionary hope that you will be in my arms upon reunion."

Leon makes a noise of recognition, moving to look up at you. "I like that."

"Yeah? Do you read much?"

“Nope,” he says candidly and rolls so that his nose is buried in the slope of where your neck connects to your shoulders. One of your hands keeps a hold on the book as the other starts running mindlessly through his hair. “Love it when you do, though, sweet thing.”

That’s the other thing: his nicknames. Leon’s oddly obsessed with calling you anything sweet–sweet girl, sweet thing, sweetheart…While he does use others, those types happen to be the most common occurrence. They never make you fail to feel giddy, something like a schoolgirl finally getting the popular boy to look her way. Only for you, he seems to be just as obsessed as you are.

Admittedly, Leon's said he prefers you saying his name just because he likes the way it sounds alone, but you don’t pass up the chance to give him nicknames of your own. 

Things don't always go smoothly, though.

There are times you shy away from him, unfamiliar with his efforts. Times you question if what he promises is really true and try to not flinch away every time he reaches for you. Leon never hurts a hair on your head and while you know this, old habits do tend to die hard.

It's one night when it's raining lightly that Leon pulls you away from your analysis on one of the J.I.E.'s version of regenerators that the Los Illuminados cult created. You go whiningly, complaining that he was being too needy but secretly exhausted in a way that was probably all too easy for him to spot. 

Leon holds you in place on the bed next to him like he's afraid you'll try and run away back to the desk if he doesn't, but you don't necessarily complain since he's warm and the proximity is enough to make your heart do backflips in your ribcage. 

"You work too hard," he mumbles as the weight of the world settles into your bones. "Try and get some rest."

"Yes, dear," you mock, but kiss him all the same to let him know that you weren't truly mad. 

He makes a nice satisfactory noise, pulling you closer and kissing wherever he can reach, hands rubbing along your skin gently and leaving sparks of electricity in its wake. Just from his touch and warmth, you already feel yourself anchored down and sleep touching your eyes.

Leon lulls you, hands starting to mess and play with your hair as you allow yourself to be anchored down and down until the images fly behind your eyelids and sift through your unconscious memories.

You roll over and your face hits the sand. 

You stumble to your feet, the familiar weight and feel of a gun in your hands as the sound of helicopters roar in your ears as they fly overhead, shooting down the infected natives of the island you'd been sent to investigate. Nearly all members of the team assigned to you lie dead at your feet, crimson blood flowing in rivers from explosions, gashes, and bullet wounds. There's no time to worry about them, though. 

There's mixed screaming all around you, and aiming is second nature. A clean headshot and a well-charged kick is all it takes to take down the guy in front of you, and you swap out your handgun for a shotgun as multiple people form into a small crowd. 

You pull a grenade from your pocket, pulling the pin and throwing it into the sea of people. Stepping some paces back, you wait for the explosion before picking off the rest of those who survived the blast. It's then that your earpiece clicks and a voice comes through from your field managers back at headquarters.

"Come in, Python," they say, "according to our data, the source of the virus is right through the jungle. You need to gather whoever else is alive and head that way."

You grit your teeth, chest pricking with annoyance as you press on the earpiece and snap, "That's practically a suicide wish. We will not be doing that."

"May I remind you that you're not the director of this mission," the person on the other side snaps but their voice sounds fuzzy–muffled. "You follow whatever orders you're given and right now, you need to get to that virus."

You reload your submachine gun, and open fire. "Are you crazy?! There's only ten of us, maybe less. Who fucking knows how many are protecting the virus?"

"You signed up for this. We're expecting results."

They really were trying to work you to death.

The line cuts and you mumble a curse under your breath. A back hits yours and you glance to see one of the other team members has covered you from behind–a talented sniper who has played a role in more than a few of your successes in the past. It's a relief that she's been assigned here too and together, you mow down the bodies that are continuously shuffling and moving towards you.

There's too many coming close to her and enough that were far away from your side. You duck, twisting around her to shoot at the oncoming attacks at point blank while she props the muzzle of her rifle across your back to stabilize her aim. She takes out the ones that were a good distance away. You motion to her and together, you take off towards the heart of the island. 

"F.O.S. is insane," you grumble to her, swapping the magazines in your gun. "Sending two people for the virus."

"Better get a hell of a paycheck out of this one," she agrees. "When we get back, drinks are on me."

The two of you trek for what seems hours and time bends and warps in on itself. The next thing you know, she's not next to you anymore and nothing but the sound of nature and the wind blows through your ears. Confused, you whirl around and call out her name in hopes of a cheery response. You're met with silence and the creeping sense that something is watching.  

Your stomach drops as you aim your gun, anticipating an attack from any direction. 

Instead, a rumble is heard from far away and a flock of birds flies from the top of the canopy, squawking in distress.

A force knocks you off your feet as the island begins to undergo an earthquake. The ground sinks beneath your body as you fight to get back up, panic settling deep in your bones as your arms refuse to cooperate. You scream out for help, to see if anybody was alive left from the bloodbath on the beach, but you know the irrevocable horrible truth.

Everybody but you died that day on the island. The sniper had jumped in front of you to take a hit and sacrificed her life to give you a chance to get the virus. You had shown up at the J.I.E. with a small vial that contained a strain along with the blood of your innocence staining your hands.

The earth seems to try to swallow you whole, opening up as if to send you straight to hell. The heat is enough to burn the flesh off your bones and it feels like you're melting from the inside out. Another scream claws its way from your throat as the tears cascade down your cheeks in wet rivulets. You know you're going to die the way you should have with everybody else on that damn day. It was unfair, leaving you to be the lone survivor and the target of the trainers who worked their agents to death. 

You wait for the burn, for the fire to sear you alive when you feel that familiar touch. It's the same one that causes that controlled blaze inside of you–that melted the ice and saved you. 

It pulls you from that earthquake and right into reality, a sob escaping your lips as you scramble to upright yourself. You're sweating, eyes still leaking and your throat on fire as if you'd been shouting. Your whole body is numb and cranked to a hundred all at once, shaking like a withering leaf on an autumn day. 

Then, "Sweetheart? Are you with me?"

You flinch away, curling up before you realize who it was and what was happening. 

The bedside lamp turns on and bathes the room in a gentle yellow glow and you see Leon worriedly glancing over you, hands twitching like he didn't know if he should touch you or not. You've only had one episode before in front of him. When the night terrors bled into real life and he had woken you up then too. Back in the motel, it was nothing but awkwardness and the assumption that he didn't care whether you were suffering subconsciously or not. 

Now, things are different. They had to be. 

You sniff, trying not to look more puffy and bloated than you already do before reaching out, fingers searching for his own in a way they never have before. Leon sighs in relief, threads his hand around yours, and urges you closer. You fall against his chest and he tucks you into his body as if he could shield you from the outside world and hide away from all the distresses of your life. He doesn’t say anything–doesn’t ask for an explanation–just holds you and stays throughout the whole thing.

Once the adrenaline faded and you’re left with the exhaustion that comes after crying, Leon finally pulls away to get a good look at you. The care is more than enough to make you burst into tears, but you hold them back in favor of not sullying his shirt more than you already had.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice hoarse from sleep and screaming. 

“Don’t be,” he affirms, cupping your face and checking you as if making sure you weren’t hurt. “Bad dreams?”

“They usually are,” you admit and lean into his touch. Leon laughs gently when your eyes flutter shut, the warmth emission from him more comforting and grounding than anything else. 

He brushes strands of hair away from your forehead before twisting to grab the water bottle from the nightstand on his side. Leon doesn't pry into what happened–just stays with you as you drink to soothe your throat and settle down. You look at the digital numbers glowing on the clock. 

3:45.

"We should go back to sleep," you wince and fidget with the sheets beneath you but the reluctance is evident just by your body language and tone alone. "We should."

"We don't have to, baby," Leon soothes. "We can just stay up and do whatever until the sun comes up."

You don't want to return to that bloody beach–the start of many missions that would leave you in shambles and with less humanity than you started out with. It's almost laughable that once upon a time, you'd been a bright starry-eyed girl dreaming of changing the world. If you could rewind time, go back to when you were thinking of what you wanted to be when you grew up, you'd tell yourself to be an engineer or a veterinarian. 

Anything but this. 

Has Leon suffered through the same thing? How many people under him has he lost due to stupid mistakes and things that could have been prevented? You two really had to be so similar yet so different, but somehow, you'd found solace in each other.

"I got your shirt dirty," you frown, eying the dark patch that was no doubt a gross mix of your tears and maybe even snot.

He shrugs, pulling it by the hem and over his head. "Don't sweat it. I got a million more like it."

You can't help but stare at his perfectly sculpted chest that your hands have run over so many times. You can almost feel the heat of his skin beneath your palms. However, Leon's breathy chuckle pulls you out of your light fantasy. He flicks your forehead lightly, and you squeak as he rolls off the mattress.

"Quit staring, perv," he snorts, rummaging through his bag for another shirt. "My eyes are up here."

"We've literally fucked," you grumble, earning a surprised laugh from him. 

Upon getting another shirt, he disappears into the bathroom before returning with some tissues and picking up another water bottle along the way. You graciously blow your nose and clear all that gross mucus from your system. He allows you to finish off the rest of his old water bottle before tempting you back into his arms to lay back down.

You don't hesitate to get comfortable, breathing out serenely once you finally settle down. Reluctancy lies in your mind just thinking about going back to sleep and having to carry another gun or watch another person die, and Leon seems to catch on just as quickly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks gently, open to a yes or no. 

Gosh, you never would have expected the grumpy guy that used to insult you freely would be this caring. If you'd known that this is how he really was, you would have cut yourself off early, though it's a miracle something like this hadn’t happened sooner.

You take a deep breath in and blow it out. "It was years ago," you begin, picking up Leon's hand and starting to trace his palm lines in an act of distracting yourself. "I was sent to an unnamed island just off of Cuba where Umbrella had set loose a virus as an experimental field run. It was my first time giving commands."

Leon hums, shifting your position so that he can rest his head on your chest, listening to your heart and your voice while you continue brushing your fingers along his skin. 

"I was sent with a fairly large team but they overestimated us. There were infected natives that we were instructed to take out, but there were so many." You close your eyes and frown. "I remember the bloodshed–the screams of anguish of all the people I couldn't save in that first fight on the beach"

"Oh, (Y/n)." 

You open your eyes and smile, albeit a little watery. "I was the only one to get on the chopper that left the island that day. Stealth became the foundation of our training from then on and I was the one who bore the brunt of it all since I was able to make it out."

Leon scowls, all dark and lips curling back into a near snarl. "So they worked you into being their perfect little soldier." 

"Like a dog." You cup his jaw and run a soothing thumb across his cheekbone. "But, I'm here now with you. That's what matters, right?"

He breathes out, regaining his sense of control and nods. "Yeah. That's what matters."

You sit there throughout the night, holding and soothing each other through touches and the occasional kiss that borders on something more if the two of you weren't tired from being woken in the early hours of the morning. Instead, you relish in the presence of him. There's many things that go unsaid, including what your relationship is labeled now, but that's a worry for another day.

The next time your face hits the sand, your eyes fly open as you find yourself in an unmarked place that you can't identify. 

No longer is the feeling of silky sheets and Leon underneath your hands, but rather the rocky grains of sand that have already begun to stick everywhere. The sky stretches with the Milky Way, white stardust streaking across a navy canvas that seems to shudder the longer you look at it. Behind you is an island, the silhouette of trees rising up like a daunting wall and tittering with the sound of nocturnal animals. Somewhere, a bird squawks. 

Water rushes up the shoreline with puffy white seafoam before receding gently and restarting the cycle all over again, but its efforts never even come close to where you were sitting. You imagine it would be cold. The sound of waves crashing calms you and on this beach, things are peaceful. It's quiet, and soft. 

There's no blood, no voices, no guilt. 

You lay back down, let the sand pillow around your head, and smile.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

“Babe, come look at this.”

Leon perks up at your call, immediately getting up to join your side on the bed where multiple files scatter across the sheets. You’ve been drawing links between experiments for a few hours now while Leon makes sure you take a break every once in a while to clear your thoughts and make sure you aren't working yourself into a hole.

“They’ve been tampering with copying DNA strands,” you point out, reading a paragraph on the top of a page titled ‘Somatic Cell Nuclear Transfer’. “‘Multiple test subjects have been shown falling apart or melting into a pile of unidentifiable yet useless substances. Dr. Walker theorizes that this may be a result of unstable skeletons and has proposed we build the structure akin to that of a machine. However, development would take too long so for now, we must continue perfecting the process’.”

Leon’s eyebrows furrow as he takes the paper from your hands and scans over the rest of the report briefly. “They’re trying to clone something.”

Your blood turns cold. “But what? They’ve been bulk creating bioweapons so surely that would be pointless.”

“Unless it’s not a bioweapon they’re trying to replicate,” he points out. “They could be trying to create a replica of a political figure or something.”

“But how would they have the sources to pull that off? They can’t get close enough to someone with power for a DNA strand or something of the likes.”

“I don’t know anymore about that than you do, sweetheart,” Leon mumbles, focusing on the report as his chin hooks on your shoulder and rests there. “Can you think of anybody that they’d get an advantage from?”

“Nobody else that you can’t think of,” you parrot, going through every person that they’ve targeted in the past. “Mostly I’ve been sent out to intercept the progress of rivaling companies and shadowing after you for information so your guess is just as good as mine.”

“We have to go back to the lab,” he sighs, rubbing a hand down his face and tucking it into your neck. His breaths tickle your skin. “Can’t catch a fucking break.”

“On the contrary, Mr. Kennedy,” you shrug your shoulders a little so that it jostles him enough to emit a mock aggravated groan. “I think you’ve had plenty of breaks since our last breach into the lab.”

He glances up at you, a red tint glowing on his face and you would have made fun of him for it if you weren’t going through the exact same emotions as he was. 

There’s a tense moment as your thoughts align on the same page for a minute.

“Wanna make it one more?” he prods suggestively and you have to laugh now, reaching up and patting his cheek affectionately.

“As much as I’d love to, I’d rather be able to walk when we head out. You really seem to enjoy folding me like a damn pretzel.” you tease.

“Start stretching more.”

“Give me time beforehand then.”

He falls dramatically onto his back, making a pitiful little noise as if you’ve wounded him. You snort, pick up the map, and begin marking down the route the two of you had agreed on but not yet finalized. The safe rooms are already circled in blue, and the major areas to avoid are in red. The best course of action was to pull an alarm and cut through the offices to the labs that connected to the computer room, and there, you could find the information you needed.

It was risky, and there were a lot of factors to be considered before the two of you immediately dove in. 

“That’s another cause for concern on the list,” you note, “along with the other ones we’ve listed down.” 

“Perfect,” Leon retorts. “As if the all-seeing heat detecting monsters and the eyeball motherfuckers weren’t bad enough.”

Throughout your view over of the list of bioweapons they’ve created, you managed to narrow down the ones they’ve deployed as a means of defense. One attracts to that of thermal senses and another that purely uses sight as it’s only dominant means of living, which means they’re going to be your biggest problems alongside the potential undead waiting to pop out. 

It’s also possible each one of them was injected with a variant of Las Plagas to make things even more fun. Total obedience was needed for them to function as a reliable defense system, and if they went rogue, it would cause too many heavy casualties. 

“This sucks.”

Leon huffs. “You can say that again.”

“We need to settle on a date,” you tuck everything back into the binder neatly before snapping it shut. With no grace, you fall onto Leon’s chest and he grunts as his arms circle around your waist instinctively. “Do you have any ideas?”

“Sure. We could go to the movies or take a walk in the park–”

“I will sleep in the other bed tonight.”

“I’d say a week’s time.”

You laugh gently, resting your chin on his sternum. He sighs, exasperated but lovingly all the same, and in this tender moment, it’s easy for the daunting mission to fade away. The outside world doesn’t exist when you’re with him and some part of him mourns that you’ll never be able to return to this suite when everything’s said and done. 

The future is terrifying since there’s no telling what’ll happen when he has to report back to the government.

Leon had explained to you that he was able to prod his bosses for an extended vacation after his former one was rudely interrupted by their request for his aid in dealing with the situation with Arias. You have no doubts that they wouldn’t hesitate to call him back though, so it’s a miracle he’s lasted this long. He assures you there’s nothing to worry about so you try not to be too bothered by the unnatural radio silence. 

“What are you thinking of, sweet girl?” Leon asks, running a hand through your hair and beginning to gently work out the tangles that bind together some strands. 

“You.” The answer is simple yet honest. He’s always on your mind nowadays, isn’t he?

“Yeah? What about me?” He tests and you know exactly what he’s trying to instigate.

“I’m gonna have to teach you some self-control, mister,” you chide, closing your eyes and reveling in the soothing motions through your hair. “You’re worse than I am.”

"Is that a good or a bad thing?"

"Whatever you decide," you say while stretching, yawning in the midst of the afternoon glow through the suite windows. "I wanted to ask you something, though."

Leon tilts his head and begins weaving a section of your hair into a braid. "I'm listening."

"Where do you see yourself in the future?"

He pauses, his motions stuttering before resuming almost cautiously this time. "What brought this on?"

"I was wondering what your plans are when we finally can rest," you close your eyes and make a noise between contentment and hesitancy. "We can't be worked forever and that pension's gonna be fan-fucking-tastic."

"Well," Leon breathes in like he's confessing a secret–like the two of you are children whispering things into each other's ears and pinkie promising not to tell, "I'd like to move into a suburban house–maybe one with a picket fence–that's in a small no-name city. The community would be nice but know how to keep to themselves. Maybe I'll have a couple kids running around. Work never really allowed me to think about having a family."

"That sounds really nice," you say wistfully, imagining it behind your eyelids. 

"I'd like to be able to paint and alter the walls however I'd like since I can easily afford something like that," he keeps on going. "A kitchen space just big enough to cook with someone and maybe even a window where I can watch the sun. I'd like a nice, cozy bedroom that's not neat or messy so I can bury myself in bed no matter what time I come home."

He wants such an idyllic life–one that you see in movies that everyone lives vicariously through because in this society, it was practically unachievable. Would you be so willing to have such a peaceful way of living as well? You can't fight forever, but all you've known for years is blood and gunpowder and pain. Could that world be something you deserve after everything you've done? 

Leon stops, rests his hand on the back of your skull thoughtfully, and says, "...And I want you to be in it."

You open your eyes and look at him, caught off guard. "Me?"

"Who else, sweet thing?" He laughs. "I hate to break it to you, but I'm not letting you go after this."

“Stockholm Syndrome,” you hum. “Are you really sure you want me there for all that, though?”

“There’s nobody else,” Leon says seriously. “Only you.”

You breathe in, then out and focus on the heat of his touch and the weight of his words on your heart. “Okay, Leon.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. We’ll have a house together away from this all and you won’t have to worry about the monsters anymore.”

His eyes crinkle with joy when he smiles and you’ve learned what it’s like when he expresses any genuine happiness. It’s a sight to behold but surely, it’s one you would never ever forget.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Your heart beats in your ears harshly, finger twitching to pull the trigger on your handgun as you watch carefully for any signs of movement around the corner. 

The world around you sucks a breath in, watching and waiting for any possible movement that would trigger an event. 

Nothing but the hum of electricity can be heard, a constant drone in the background as sweat accumulates on the back of your neck and your stomach rolls nervously. Your arms shake and you're already aching for the welcoming feeling of the hotel suite. Unfortunately, things aren't that simple.

You and Leon had left early in the morning, once again, focused solely on making it out alive by the end of the day. Following the route and plan the two of you had finished up and agreed on, it wasn't hard to find and trip the fire alarm to the offices. People came rushing out–as predicted–but what you didn't expect was for the monsters to be roaming freely among the workers.

You and Leon had done the best you could, using the walls of the cubicles to hide away from the eyes of the monsters who could only see, with ugly pink bat wings and the body of a fleshy larva. It was only when the thermal searching bioweapons came in that you were positively fucked. Computers came crashing down, wires fizzing electricity and the lights overhead spark angrily as bullets were shot with desperation.

There were so many of them–so much that the rubble and the amount of monsters combined separated you and Leon.

You panic when you can't see him anymore but hope that you'll regroup soon enough, running through a doorway and barricading it with a quick glance at the room and seeing that he's nowhere you can find.

Hence your position now. You have to be careful since you're in an uncharted section of the laboratory that you didn't study in depth like you had for the rooms that you planned for. Carefully, you get up from your position and walk. The atmosphere is not helpful, and it feels like the walls have eyes. You shoot down any security cameras you see and somewhere along the way, there's a safe room. 

There's nothing but a few boxes of ammo, a dusty old typewriter, and a plant that smells suspiciously like the vials of herbs that Leon had made you take all those weeks back. The thought makes your frown as you root out the plant from its pot. 

Your time in that snowy motel seems like such a lifetime ago. It's hard to believe that just last month, you were ready to kill him on sight. Between everything that's happened and all the emotions that have purged, this story of yours seems like just the beginning. Catharsis–or something like it. Now, you're ready to have a life with your sworn enemy just because you were stupid and fell in love. 

Who knows if Leon really was playing the long game or not?

Once you've checked and reloaded all of your guns, you step out of the safe room and back into the long hallway. The door at the end leads to some kind of boiler room and the heat only makes you more inclined to collapse. However, you push forward and take in the environment. 

There's a large pod-shaped machine in the middle exhausting steam and monitoring its pressure on the side, which would be the heater. All around is a metal platform that winds up upwards with stairs at every level, and there's no telling where the top door might lead to. Instead of dwelling too hard on it, you begin climbing. 

The lack of any enemies or things to shoot lets you know that any destruction to the boiler would probably be too large of a causality so they didn't want to risk the chance of the thing exploding. You're about halfway there when the hairs on your neck stand up and your gut pangs. 

You grab your knife and parry the incoming attack. 

The woman backs away, clearly surprised that you managed to sense her despite the silent stealth she employed. It takes about two seconds to recognize who it is and your blood runs cold. Ada blinks innocently, sheathing her knife and jutting out a hip. Expertly applied make-up refuses to run even under the heat and humid steam of the boiler room and infuriatingly, you understand why Leon might've been attracted to her in the past. 

"Ada," you say, hesitantly putting away your own weapon. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I see he's told you about me," she tuts, moving to walk past you. "All these years and he still can't let go of me."

You think she's just trying to get under your skin, and you follow her just to see what she might say. "How long have you known Leon?"

"Mm...We have a history. One I wouldn't expect someone like you to understand."

You clench your jaw, reminding yourself that if it's a fight she wants, she'll have to work harder for it. What was the point in taunting you like this? Was it because of personal feelings that she had tried to get the jump on you earlier or was it part of a mission that she was on as well?

"You know," Ada begins, climbing another flight of stairs. "He's gotten good at acting–lying. He's not as predictable as he was before."

"So?" You reply irritably, ready to get away from her. 

"So you never know," she looks up wistfully, "he might be using you for information. When this is all said and done, Leon will get his hands on the data he needs and you'll be free from your contract. The business deal will be done and you can go your separate ways."

"Is that what you really think?" 

She looks back at you, something like pity or sadness in her eyes. "Maybe. I'm just trying to warn you before you do something you might regret."

You can't say anything about that. 

The two of you continue up the stairs until you finally reach the final door at the top. Upon opening it, you sigh in relief at the cold air and turn to find Ada isn't following. She only shakes her head slightly, backing away like she's disappointed or something.

Ada takes a deep breath in like she's trying to steel herself. "You're good for him. Better than I would've ever been. Don't fuck it up."

You open your mouth to retaliate, question what she means, promise you won't–maybe say something. You don't get the chance when she swivels around and vaults over the railing of the platform falling down and disappearing. You gasp, rushing forward to see call out for her, but the words die in your throat when you realize she's nowhere to be found. 

Left confused by the brief interaction, you glance back at the open door that leads into a narrow corridor. A lone door lies on the other side of it, and you try to remember if there was anywhere that it would lead to. However, you fail to, and decide that there’s really nowhere to go but ahead. You press forward, and the door to the boiler room slams shut behind you. 

You whip around, hearing the harsh click of a lock echoing through the small space.

You yank on the handle but to no avail. The thing’s bolted tightly.

An intercom crackles overhead and that voice that had spoken to you before when you and Leon had faced off the spider audibly clears the static.

“What do we have here?” they muse. “You two had better get to the main lab with all our fun little experiments. I’ve got a surprise–and perhaps you’ll find your way back to each other eventually. Don’t keep me waiting. Oh! Try not to die on the way, will you? It’s been a while since our animals have had a good hunt so I do hope you’ll be good sports and provide some much-needed entertainment.”

The static cuts off and rapid banging erupts from above. The sounds of the ventilation stagger and a shriek emits from the ceiling. You swap out your handgun for your reliable shotgun, making a beeline for the exit at the end of the corridor just as the door to the vent crashes down and you hit the floor to dodge the tentacle that comes flying at your head. 

You get a good look at what you’re up against–a pile of wet flesh that has eyes embedded into it like gems encrusted on a globe. Multiple limbs stretch outward from the main hub, wriggling hair-like tendrils spreading across the floor towards you rapidly. You get to your feet, breath coming out in ragged gasps. Your hands pump your shotgun and aim. When the hit lands, the thing screeches and puss explodes outward from its body. 

Being in such a confined space barely provides any advantages for you, and coupled with the fact that the mass of the bioweapon nearly takes up the entire corridor along with the lack of any environmental resources, it’s up to your combative prowess to get out of this one.

You grab an incendiary grenade and pull the pin. The fire is quick to make work of the thin tendrils on the floor and you sever the tentacle inching towards you from the side. You’re not quick enough to pivot around. A limb bashes into your torso and sends you flying, your ribs pulsating in pain as you slam on the ground. The concrete scratches your knees as you get up shakily, and you see your shotgun has landed a few feet away.

Upon not seeing you dead, the monster screams and focuses all of its efforts into trying to kill you. 

“Goddamnit,” you curse. “This isn’t good.”

You evade an oncoming attack, crying out when one tentacle wraps around your ankle and yanks. You fall on your back with a harsh thud and it begins dragging you towards the center where the monster opens up to reveal a mouth full of lines of rotating teeth. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you pull your knife and hack away at the restraint on your leg. The grip tightens enough so that you can feel the monster trying to crush your tibia and fibula together.

You have enough of it, dangerously close to the heated saliva of the bioweapon’s mouth. You stab your knife into the tentacle, and it splits  apart with a gush of hot blood. The shriek that emits from the mouth is enough to make your ears ring, but there’s no time to think about that now. 

Swapping out your submachine gun, you roll to your feet and begin targeting the spots where the tentacles source from. When they explode, the smell is so horrendous that you have to take the time to gag before reloading and letting the bullets do all the work. 

“You need a bath, buddy,” you mumble under your breath, wrinkling your nose in disgust. “Fuckin–this is what being an irresponsible pet owner does to a bitch.”

You sidestep another swipe and work on getting rid of the last few joints. Blood pours down the main body of the bioweapon and stains the floor beneath it, and as the last tentacle has been disarmed and popped, all that’s left is the main hub. 

It’s really unfortunate that you assumed it would be easy, but as the mouth closes suddenly, gurgles, then hurls a ball of acidic saliva at you, it proves that it won’t be as simple as you had hoped. 

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

The saliva leaves a burn bark in the ground and you know that it would be hot enough to melt the flesh right off your bones. You duck and roll, barely managing to avoid another shot for your head.

“I thought I wouldn’t have to play dodgeball after PE in highschool,” you groan, trading out your submachine gun for your hard hitting reliable magnum. “Alright, I’ve had enough of your bullshit.”

The next time the mouth opens up, you can see the glowing heart of the monster beating behind a thin wall of translucent flesh just at the back of its throat. You only get a few sections to work out a plan before it spits at you again, you use the time to jump out of the way before firing a couple of shots right into the heart. 

It shrieks but persists and you take the period after the next attack to reload your magnum as fast as you can. Fingers dance quickly as you push every bullet into a designated hole in the round, aiming, and emptying all of it into the heart as quickly as you can. Just to be safe, you take a hand grenade and launch it into the still-open mouth,

The monster seems to swallow it, trying to prepare another acid attack, but it doesn’t get the chance. You duck, shielding your head as the grenade detonates and erupts. Guts and eyeballs go flying everywhere, and blood spatters across your clothes and skin. The monster finally rolls over limply and stays down this time as you finally stand to breathe in gulps of air.

It feels like you’ve just run a marathon, and your ribs ache from when you had been thrown across the corridor, but at the best, it might have been bruised. It doesn’t feel like they’ve been broken at least, which really was the only positive side to this whole thing. The bad part is the fact that this gives you a taste of just what the J.I.E. had been working on this entire time, and that didn’t bode well if they managed to get farther along than what you just encountered.

You pick up your discarded shotgun and find you’d only been two bullets away from being empty. You’ll have to manage your inventory better the next time. Taking the time to reload everything and check through your belongings, you observe the cuts and scratches you obtained during the fight. It doesn’t seem too bad, all things considered, and you decide to wait on trying to eat the mysterious herb you had picked up before.

The lock clicks again and you try the door again to find that this time, it unlocks easily. 

On the other side, you find a more open space. The room holds large test tubes that line along the far left wall with bodies of people floating inside of them, and tubes connect to various points on their limbs. On the right are monitors that track the progression of every corresponding subject and you go to the nearest one.

You walk slowly, realizing that every one of them were incredibly similar in terms of appearance. They hold the same face shape, the same nose, the same skin color. There’s only minor differences between each of them like the curve of the upper lip not matching or the varying heights by a couple of inches, but in general, they remain fairly similar.

You travel to the other side of the room and work one of the monitors that list it’s for test subject number six. There were a few tabs you were able to access, including the general review of the experiment as a whole. The computer screen casts blue light as the report loads and your stomach drops upon seeing the title. 

"The (L/n) Project - Molecular Cloning Process

Two weeks since Agent (L/n) escaped the facility. She has left behind all devices and managed to disarm the tracking chips installed within her weapons. We suspect that the tracker we injected into her has been damaged as well–Mr. Williams theorizes it must have occurred during her fight with T-X108 and therefore, had rendered us unable to pin down her exact location. The search parties sent out have not managed to find her.

However, she has allowed us to go forth with the cloning process. Her rebellion had greenlighted the project, appropriately named The (L/n) Project as we try to replicate her favorable traits and create a bioweapon capable of her abilities and more. 

This project utilizes a mix of the T-Virus as well as the Las Plagas parasite to ensure total and absolute control over the subject. Many defects have been formed due to the incompatibility between the mix of the virus and plagas, however, Dr. Stills remains optimistic and claims that we need only to find the right combination. Our last resort only banks on the chance that (L/n) will return and will ensure her capture and re-initiation. 

Should we apprehend her within the lab, she will immediately be injected with a plagas egg. From then on, she will be kept in confinement until the parasite reaches full maturity. 

Until that time comes, we will continue the cloning process in hopes of favorable outcomes. We have already gotten this far. All it needs is time."

The files about the J.I.E. dabbling in cloning flash through your head, and your stomach jumps into your throat. You return back to the test tubes and swallow harshly, now seeing that those are your features being reflected back at you through the glass. Those things are supposed to be replicas of you–formations that they took of your DNA strands and molded into your image in hopes of replicating your performance on the battlefield but better. 

They've had plenty of chances at getting your DNA through blood work and any hairs you might have misplaced or left behind. Think about it, you had willingly provided them all the resources to your genetic code on a silver platter simply because you believed you were working for the greater good.

You back away, shaking nervously as terror fills your system. You need to find Leon and you need to do it now.

You start running, stumbling out of the room into one much larger. It's like a factory, walls whitewashed and outlined in varying glass containers that hold a multitude of different bioweapon shrieking and clawing to get out. In the center is a control board that seems to operate a giant claw. Whatever this shit is, it meant no good. 

A door flies open ahead and you gasp, looking up to see none other than Leon stumble through. You're about to call out to him until you see him hold the door just in time for somebody else to follow after. A woman, it looks like, and your chest boils with something sharp. She's not wearing the same red get up Ada had been in, so she must be somebody new. At least, you hope that's the case.

You back away, watching as they head down the stairs together and go straight for the control panel. Before one of them can touch anything, you come out, gun securely held as you nervously shout out to him. 

"Leon?" 

He whirls around immediately, but instead of his expression twisting into relief like you thought it would, it morphs into one of confusion. His features set into harsh stone as he loads his gun and aims it at you.

You stop in your steps toward him, slowly putting your own weapon back into its holster and putting your hands up in a surrendering position. Wondering why he would turn the gun on you now if all times, you think with a pang that this is where he might betray you and has alerted an accomplice to aid him in this final stretch of the mission. 

This is soon cleared when the person walks out from behind him and you find you staring at yourself. 

"Leon," the fake you says, all nervous and matching your pitch perfectly. "This must be what they were talking about–with the cloning."

A bitter taste fills your mouth, insulted that this copycat would even have the audacity. "You would know since you're one of them," you snap, turning your attention to him. "Please, you've got to believe me–you've been traveling with a clone."

"Stop trying to manipulate him!" The clone's eyes shine with fake tears and you scowl. 

Leon hesitates, strung between two identical people and you can't believe they somehow created the perfect replica. How they even managed it is beyond you, but what matters is that there was a chance Leon could accidentally kill you without knowing it until it was too late. How could he handle it if his intuition is the very thing that had kept you alive and killed you all at once?

“Don’t fall for it,” the clone frowns, forehead wrinkling just in the same way yours did when you were determined about something. "She's just trying to trick you so we'll get separated again."

"You're one to talk," you seethe, knowing that losing your temper right now was akin to fighting a losing battle.

"Leon," she croons, circling around to look him in the eyes earnestly, "don't you remember all those nights we spent together? How free it felt to finally love me openly after all this time?"

He softens but only slightly, the grip on his gun loosens as he hears her recount the events of something so recent. 

"I've loved you for so long and didn't even know it," she says, so open and vulnerable like a mirror to your own emotions. It was eerie and creepy in a way you loathed, unsettling just how it was to see a reflection of yourself sweet talking the man you love. "Shall I tell you when I first admitted that I love you so that I can prove it really is me?"

She doesn't even wait for an answer before she's leaning in and whispering in his ear. Whatever she says, it must be something wild judging by the way his face flushes so violently crimson. Usually, it's you doing all that work, knowing what subjects will make his face burn in such a way that it's nearly impossible not to cradle it just to feel the heat beneath your palms. However, it's not you this time, and the fact makes you want to throw up and gag at the sight of it.

When the clone leans away, she scrutinizes his face before letting her expression fall. "You still don't believe me fully."

"I can't make a mistake."

"Then ask us a question," the clone suggests suddenly, matching your tone and body language down to a T as if you really just had a bright idea. "One only the real (Y/n) would know."

Leon's eyes turn focused, looking between the two of you trapped in front of him in similar stances. Really, what could he ask that the clone wouldn't know? She had apparently inherited all of your memories–all of the time you spent in the motel leading up to this second had been meticulously recorded. 

"When did we first meet?" He finally asks. "When did we really first meet?"

"Operation Counterpoint," the clone says immediately as if this were some twisted game show. "You caught me on an espionage mission gaining intel on Umbrella through your own mission. You almost killed me that day."

Leon looks at you and the raw emotion in his eyes as he waits for your answer makes you falter. You always knew him better than anybody–knew the things that made him tick and do the things he did better than you know your own quirks. You hope that intuition doesn't fail you now, needing it more than ever in this bizarre situation. Leon asked a simple question, but something underlined it. He was looking for something else–something more.

You understand what he's asking and you duck your head.

"When you saw my scars," you say quietly and nothing but the hum of electricity could be heard like the atmosphere had sucked in a breath and was holding it. "When you found out what the J.I.E. had been doing to me–how they were hurting me, that's…that's when we met. When we really first met."

Leon pivots and shoots the clone in the head, the throat, then the heart and as she falls to the floor, he reaches for you.

You sag in relief as you let yourself fall into his arms. The tension drains from your body as you find yourself in the clear once again. Leon–your rival, mortal enemy, and savior–pulls you to his chest in a real hug that you melt into. You haven't felt the warmth of an embrace from anyone but yourself in years before him–didn't allow yourself to. You suspect that he's just the same, or perhaps even more, starved of the touch than you were

His arms wrap across your back, pulling you right into the space that has become reserved for you against his body. His hold on you is so firm that it would take an army just to get him to release you from his sweet embrace. To be fair, you're not keen on leaving it anytime soon.

"Oh, sweet girl," he mumbles against your hair, grip tightening as if he'd rather die than let you go. "Angel, is it you? Tell me, please–please."

"It's me," you reassure as genuinely as you can. "Leon, you did good–you did so good. Thank you, oh my god."

The tension from the situation dissipates as you relish in the feeling of being alive and well. You can feel him shaking and you pull away only slightly just to get a good look at his face. Leon never cries even though he's seen a fair share of your tears and you've seen the nightmares that plague him every time his insomnia lets up and allows him to sleep. Now, you see that familiar well of hot saltwater welling beneath his eyelids and your heart hurts for what confliction he must have gone through while making his choice. 

You wipe them away before they even have the chance to make a track down your cheeks and his forehead presses onto yours desperately. 

“Leon, we have to keep going,” you prod, however just as reluctant to let him go. “We have to make it out of here together, okay?”

He lingers stubbornly and you think you might have to walk with him wrapped around you but he manages to pull away all the same and nods. You know he’s back with you now on a level head and that things were very possibly going to be okay again. You’ll live to see the day, and that was a true promise that passed wordlessly between the two of you.

Together, you approach the control panel and begin operating the system to tell you what has been happening.

Every single creature on the wall is registered to a number and every one contains at least one or more virus or parasite. Some of them mix together the T-virus and Las Plagas, even going as far to see if the plagas and Uroboros could be compatible somehow. The creatures maintain some sort of semblance of what they once were, ranging from rats to dogs to humans. 

This is more fucked up than you could ever have imagined. While the binder you had gotten had prepared you somewhat, even then, they only had one page of review and. This was the whole report, elaborately written for each of the bioweapons they had been creating.

“What the fuck could they be doing this for?” Leon mumbles angrily under his breath as he sifts through file after file.

“They wanted to take the bioweapon war to Umbrella,” you reply, nudging aside his hands so you can pull up the command prompt for the system. “With enough power, they could take down the pharmaceutical company and be revered as heroes for the anti-terrorism.”

“But the government would’ve shut them down the same way they did Umbrella.”

“Not quite.”

You enter in the string that brings up an overview of the J.I.E.’s plans, letting Leon read through it as you pull out an external hard drive to plug into the USB port hidden discreetly away from the open. Beginning to copy the information that was showing on screen, Leon sighs and catches your attention. 

“They’re gearing towards the favor of the public,” he realizes and you nod. “And this whole plan is why…”

“Why I left, yes.” You select all of the creature reports and start uploading them on the drive while talking. “They think that bringing a whole entire war to the companies is the only way to deal with them–they don’t think about civilians or people or the moral justice of those who do wrong. They want the advantage, which makes them no fucking better than Umbrella or Tricell or anybody else.”

“Who’s behind all of this? Do you know?”

You take a deep breath, trying not to think about what names or relations meant to you–especially higher ups who didn’t know how to keep their nose out of other people’s business. “Mr. Williams is the head of the J.I.E.–the one who made the company and announced its making under the false pretenses of making the world a better place. He built it on the trust of those who witnessed him jailing a couple criminals until he successfully apprehended an Umbrella team member. He was revered, and the J.I.E. received a lot of funds for his deed.”

“But?”

“But he’s been disillusioned ever since.” You look up at him seriously, taking his hand and clasping it between your palms. “Leon, promise me that if he manages to make an appearance, we run. He’s charismatic and knows how to get underneath your skin–you won’t get anything out of talking to him.”

“You’re sure about this?” he asks, squeezing your hand back gently.

“One hundred percent.”

Leon nods, trusting you. “Then we’ll run.”

The next moments are spent analyzing the creatures in the glass cases. You can see the wriggling parasites beneath the bronze flesh of some of the animals, stretching from Las Plagas to Uroboros to other possible variations. The animals with viruses don't have any wriggling tendrils but they do still snarl and rot from the inside out. It's disturbing, knowing that this was all right under your nose while you'd been willingly working for the J.I.E. 

When the hard drive is finished uploading the reports, you navigate away from the experiments and instead turn your focus onto the U.S. government. Leon makes a noise of confusion upon seeing you type in the buzzwords, but is effectively silenced when you open a file that introduces the world of hacking. There were so many files about getting through firewalls and securities that it's almost impossible to believe that they kept track of all of it. 

"This is how they're bypassing the protections the government has been putting up," you tell him, cutting and pasting all of the files. "With this, you can fortify it."

Leon doesn't say anything, just simply pulls you closer by the wait and kisses the crown of your head. You can't tell what he's thinking right now, but if anything, you're glad you can help him. He looks like he has something on his mind and you almost ask what he's thinking about, but instead resign to let him have his moment instead.

When you have all the information you need and have stopped needing to upload things to the hard drive, you unplug it and tug it into your bag. Together, the two of you start making your way to one of the exits you theorized. Sure, you might not be able to find the entrance you came through by means of the dressing room but at the very least, you could find a way out.

There's a dizzying amount of doors to get through and everything seems to be going fine. Nobody's come for your head yet and there's no monsters that have fallen from the ceiling looking for blood just yet. 

It's only when you make your way to one of the first floors that a strange clicking sound is heard and you and Leon halt to pull out your guns. It's reflectively dark so you have to click on a flashlight just to be able to see a small portion around you. The mysterious noise seems to be coming from ahead behind a crate of boxes and since there's no telling what it might be, the two of you proceed with caution.

Your footsteps are light, breaths even lighter. You monitor yourself in the way a doctor might, and the adrenaline already begins building. You approach the crate, lift your leg, and kick it in.

When the boards crumble, a shriek is heard, and you barely manage to dodge and roll out of the way of the humanoid that lunges for you. The figure screams, dressed in rags and streaked with dirt. One good look at it makes your heart twist harshly upon recognizing it: it's one of the failed clones, evident by the way her cheek is rotted away to show the inner workings of her mouth and her eyes are a stained color that vaguely reflects yours. Larvae wriggle within her gums and she stumbles to her feet, groaning incoherently as she sets her sights on you. 

"The fuck?" Leon hisses. "What is that thing?"

"It's one of the failed clones," you provide, aiming your gun again. "C'mon, let's get this over with."

You shoot the clone in the eye, blood spattering outward from the socket. She feels back with a mangled noise, clutching the wound as Leon takes his chance. He approaches rapidly, plants his foot, and roundhouse kicks the clone into the wall hard enough that her neck completely snaps from the impact. 

You whistle lowly. Showoff. 

"Overkill," you tut, shining the flashlight over the dismembered body that refuses to move even when you prod it with the toe of your boot. "It's probably safe to assume they've got a million more of these just lying around so let's proceed with caution, shall we?"

"Roger that."

The two of you press forward, coming across more defects that are bursting through the seams with incompatible parasites. Some explode outward with grotesque flesh and wriggling limbs that you have to shoot down while others seek to take a bite from your neck. Leon covers your back and you watch out for his, and together, you fight your way through the failed mirrors of yourself. 

You come upon a main lab that's circular in shape, guns held defensively and on high alert. It's strangely silent considering you'd just come from a room full of monsters and shrieking clones with skin melting off their bodies. 

You walk forward, finding a circular platform in the middle set up like a stage and metal stairs line around the whole thing. You're about to turn around to ask Leon what he thinks this room could be used for but you're suddenly grabbed from behind. A scream leaves your throat as you thrash, and Leon shouts your name. The cold barrel on a gun presses to your temple and an arm clasps around your neck as a sleazy yet familiar voice spits in your ear. 

"I suggest you stop struggling or I'll kill you right fucking now."

You stop, but choke upon seeing Leon being apprehended by a bunch of soldiers dressed in gear marked with the J.I.E. logo. He's strong, but certainly not enough to break from them as they pull and hold his hands behind his back. 

"Please," you whisper, barely able to breathe from the grip that's across your throat. "Don't hurt him."

"You know I don't run things like that," Williams snears. "Especially from dogs like you. You just couldn't sit still and be obedient, could you (L/n)?"

You scowl, fighting against him to breathe in before he shuts off your airways again. "You know I'd rather die than lick the boots of some greaseball who thinks he's some big head honcho hotshot."

"You never know when to fucking shut up, do you?!" The gun presses harsher to your temple and you squeeze your eyes shut. "Drop your weapons and this will all go a lot smoother."

This situation seems too against you, too harsh. Maybe you should comply for now, give them the ultimatum of taking you and sparing his life. You'd do it without question, but who's to say they won't kill you before he can make it back to you? You drop everything from your bag to your guns to your knife, and completely give up. Upon feeling you give up and going slack in his arms, Williams lets you stand, slowly letting go as to make sure you won't run. After all, he's got six soldiers pointing automatics trained at your body to make sure you don't try to do anything. He scoffs, laughing at your pathetic state before turning his attention to Leon who's refusing to remain still or quiet.

“Stay away from her!” Leon screams, pushing against the arms that hold him back, barely able to restrain his lean muscular body. Your chest tugs as if magnetizing you to him and your eyes sting with hot tears. “You put one fucking finger on her, I’ll kill you!”

“Oh?” Williams taunts and he raises a quizzical eyebrow. “Leon Kennedy defending (Y/n) (L/n)? My ears must be deceiving me.”

If looks could kill, everybody in the room would be dead with the way Leon’s eyes darkened. A hand touches back and you instinctively jerk away before roughly being tugged closer. Somewhere, chains clink and your whole posture goes rigid.

“The perfect soldier we could never replicate,” Williams muses, pressing a firm hand to the scars that shape your backside. “Not without discipline, of course.”

The room falls silent as Leon processes his words. 

"You're dead," he spits venom, dripping with promise. "I'm going to kill you and I'll make it fucking hurt, motherfucker."

"Don't listen to him," Williams waves Leon off as if he were just some bothersome fly before focusing his attention on you. "Haven't we taught you anything, Agent (L/n)? This fool doesn't love you. At the very best, you're just some lively entertainment for him before leaving you in a cold bed in the morning." 

Leon thrashes even more violently than before. You keep your eyes on the concrete beneath your feet. 

"You can't save him the same way you couldn't even save yourself."

"Shut up!" Leon's desperation leaks so candidly though his voice. "(Y/n)! Don't listen to him!"

"Oh, she'll listen to me," Williams circles around, forcing your head up with an iron clasp around your jaw as his face comes into view. "Dogs don't like to be chained up and beat, after all, don't you know?"

You curl in disgust when he lets go, and he continues up the steps to look down on the spectacle beneath him. Just as you told Leon, it's always power he wants, and now is more apparent than ever. 

"Mr. Kennedy, listen to me." You know he doesn't want to hear another word from the man's mouth. "I don't like to do things like this, you know. But, the girl you act like you love so much is more than just the foolhardy agent you've met on the battlefield."

Leon knows you better than that. He knows the way you cry and laugh and love. He knows how willing you'd be to take a bullet to the heart for him in the same way he'd put his head in a guillotine for you. Williams doesn't know the extent of your love, doesn't understand it. He might still believe you hate each other given your past passive aggressive reports on him–but it's clear as day that those feelings have changed since you attempted to cut ties with the J.I.E.

"She's special, isn't she?" Williams croons as if he thinks praise will have you sitting at his feet like a loyal little lapdog. "However, she still has killed so many of your allies–even almost you. Is that something you'll let go of so easily? She could be a traitor trying to get under your skin. She could be our specially engineered clone and you had killed the very real one. How do you know that she's loyal? Certainly, if she wasn't loyal to the very company she agreed to contract to, she'll never be loyal to you."

"You're insane," Leon spits. "Of course she wouldn't want to stick with the guy who's ordered her to be fucking abused into submission. Do you treat all your agents like this or just her?"

"(L/n) is special, like I said. Every special agent deserves special treatment, don't you think?"

Leon glowers. "You'll regret saying that."

Williams just his chin out. "And what makes you think that?"

The lights power down with a groan. The insistent humming drone of electricity stalls and goes silent. The emergency lights fail to come on. The darkness is black enough that you can't even see your hand in front of your face. 

A gun cocks and your heart drops. 

"Get down!"

You hit the floor as bullets start ringing through the air. It's wild, confusing, and you don't know what's happening or why. Your breaths start coming out in panicked puffs as you cover your head, and stay on the ground. Somewhere, someone screams and the blast of a shotgun is heard. The soldiers are commandeering orders and radio static voices are heard all over the place. 

Somebody touches your shoulder and you gasp, scrambling away from them, feet kicking blindly until they're held down. You almost scream before a comforting voice talks to you in a low tone and cuts all those defenses short.

"Sweetheart–baby–it's just me, don't worry,” Leon's thoughts run a million miles a second and they translate easily to his tongue and out his mouth, “C'mon, get up, we have to go. I can carry you if you can't walk on your own. Shit, he didn't hurt you too bad, did he?" 

You can't form a coherent thought but merely wrap your arms around him with a sob, too keyed up and overwhelmed with everything that's happening around you. Why did the power go out? Did Williams escape in the mess? Who was behind everything that was happening?

"It's okay," Leon soothes, gathering you up in your arms and you feel the floor leave from beneath you, "C'mon, we're getting out of here."

"What…"

"You can ask later. For now, we're leaving."

You bury your head into his chest and let him take you away to wherever he chose fit. The world seems like a blur as more men start shouting over the blasts of gunshots and Leon does his best to get the two of you out. You hear a hum running as lights dance behind your eyelids. Time seems to drag on and flash by in a second as Leon's body jostles beneath yours until eventually, you feel him jump and the roar of an engine fills your ears. 

You open your eyes as he sets you down on a stiff bench, vision blurry as you watch him leave. You don't know where he had taken you or if he'd ever be back, but weakly, you want to reach out for him. There's no energy in your body, exhausted from fighting for so long. People are still shouting and the smell of gunpowder invades your nose. 

You fight to stay conscious, afraid that if you sleep, you might not be able to wake up. Before, you'd been vehemently unafraid of death, but now? Now you're terrified of it. 

Leon comes back into your view, and he seems conflicted, but nonetheless is here. He gently moves your body so that you rest on his lap comfortably, your head nestled against his collarbone as he starts rubbing the palm of his hand across your head. You can still hear the screaming, the gunshots, the blood and pain. 

It feels like you're staying between life and death, back on an island and being with Leon.

"Sweet girl," Leon says just loud enough for you to hear against your hair–the first nickname he ever seriously used with you. "You've been fighting all on your own for too long. Let me take care of you."

Unable to hold back, you allow the tears to spill over at the weight of the truth his proclamation holds. How long has it been since someone's held you like this? Has anybody ever held you like this?

"You can rest," he croons gently. "I've got you, baby. You can let yourself go." 

A lifetime ago, it would have sounded like poisoned words from a wolf in sheep's clothing. But now? 

Now it kind of sounds like he loves you.

And that's perfectly alright with you.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

During the entire time since you showed up at the motel, Leon had been in close contact with the president back at the white house. You feel like you should have known, would’ve thought it was obvious, but he was very good at distracting you at the best of times.

Leading up to your final stand against the J.I.E., he’d been arranging a squad to be ready on standby in case anything went wrong. When you’d been grabbed, he’d sent out the signal for them to be able to track him down just before he’d been apprehended. The B.S.A.A. was ready, and they successfully cut the power and utilized their nighttime equipment to navigate the sudden battlefield. 

Williams had been captured and taken in for questioning. That much had put your heart to rest.

Leon had ordered an escape chopper, which is what he had carried you into in those final moments. Surely, things must have been more intense for him but you’d been so out of your element that you had completely shut down. A trauma response, maybe, from having to face the possibility that you would die that day.

You stand in the waiting room, wearing a nice little dress as you fiddle with the dark black hard drive in your hands. Your nerves won’t allow you to sit down or rest to any capacity and you anxiously blow out a breath. This moment would determine your future for the rest of your days. Maybe you’d be sent to jail for a lifetime to atone for your crimes against them, but you know Leon wouldn’t let that happen.

The door unlocks and a young man in a stiff suit waves you in. “Miss (L/n). They’re ready for you.”

You nod nervously, take one more deep breath, and enter the office.

The president is already there, hands folded stiffly on the desk as Leon stands to attention behind him. Right now, it was nothing but business, and you shakily nod your head. Reminding yourself that this is a lot more than the times you reported to Williams, you wipe your clammy hands on the back of your dress.

“Good morning, Mr. President,” you say, and thank the heavens when your voice doesn't crack.

The president only smiles non-threateningly, and motions to a chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat–and do loosen up, please. We’re just here to have a conversation, nothing life-changing.”

“Sorry, sir.”

He laughs not unkindly as you take your seat and clasp onto the hard drive in your lap for dear life. 

“From what I understand, you’ve been working with Agent Kennedy for the past month or so, yes?” 

“Correct,” you answer. “The Justice for Inhumane Experimentalists had been keeping me under a contract to pledge my mind, body, and soul to them and when I differed from their plans to begin a bioweapon war, they nearly killed me. I managed to escape and track the coordinates Mr. Kennedy was at."

"I see." The president nods to the hard drive in your hands. "May I?" You slide it over to him and he turns it over in his hands briefly before smiling. "You've done us a great service today, Miss (L/n). For that I would like to formally pardon you from any and all offenses."

A huge weight is lifted from your shoulders as you breathe out in relief. "Thank you."

"Although…" he interjects. "We would rather have you put under watch, which is why you'll be staying with Agent Kennedy for a couple of weeks. I'm sure there's no objections?"

"None at all, sir."

"Good," the president smiles. "There's one more matter I'd like to discuss before I let you go."

You steel yourself for the worst. "Yes?"

"I'd like to personally extend an invitation to you to join the D.S.O. as Agent Kennedy can show you the ropes and you'd fit right in." Your mouth drops open. "Of course, you don't have to accept, but it would be the best option for you right now and we'd hate to lose such a capable soldier who's survived enough things that would kill the average person."

"I…" You look at Leon who only looks back at you with a blank expression, but you can practically hear him begging in your head. 

"You'd be helping people–for real." The president looks at you earnestly. "And surely, you'll get many more benefits than the J.I.E. had granted you. From what I hear, you didn't even have time off."

You think about it, about how the trajectory of your life is changing now. What would happen if you said yes? If you said no? Surely there was no life for you outside these four walls, but could you really afford keeping on going with agent work? You look at Leon again, biting your tongue. You're a ruinous person–scum of the earth. But…if he thinks you can be redeemed then…

"It would be an honor to join, sir," you answer.

The president smiles. "Then you're dismissed. Do be sure to rest up, will you?"

You get up as Leon walks forward and motions you to follow. Dutifully, you trail behind him as the president waves a little goodbye on your way out. The weight of the world lifts from your shoulders as you breathe out in relief when the door closes behind you and Leon immediately slips his hand into yours.

"That wasn't so bad, now was it?" He chides.

"Actually, it was horrible," you correct. "I don't think I've ever been scared shitless in my entire life."

Leon laughs, pulling you along to where his little sedan is waiting in the parking lot. You’re sure that if you hadn’t been driving, he would've crashed it upside down in a ditch somewhere while he walked out fine. It seemed like something Leon would do.

He takes you to his home, an expensive apartment overlooking the District of Columbia that he claims he only had because it’s near the office and that meant less driving for him. You call him a dork and roll your eyes but feel that adoration for him simmer just under your heartbeat. 

While you shower, he orders food and claims he’ll help you settle in after you’ve had something to eat. 

When he finds you staring listlessly out the window to his balcony, he comes up from behind and rests his head on your shoulder, arms winding mindlessly around your waist and sighing peacefully when you lean back into him. It’s oddly domestic and comfortable, and it’s something you don’t want to let go of.

"This is temporary, isn't it?" You mumble brokenly, thinking about what Ada had said back at the lab. "You don't really…you don't."

Leon's eyebrows knit together in confusion as he cups your face and turns your head so that you're forced to meet his eyes. "What gave you that idea?" 

"If you just want me for the pleasure, you can say it," heart twisting painfully as tears well hotly in your eyes. "You can tell me. I can let go."

"No, no," he chastises, holding you close like the nonexistent distance between your bodies was enough to kill him. "When our job is done, we'll go wherever you want. No matter what."

"You don’t get it, Leon," you sigh, pulling away from his grasp. It feels like you're tearing your soul apart. "I've always been unlovable. No matter what I said or what I did, I always ended up alone–and I can't bear to get attached to someone who doesn't reciprocate the way I want them to. I can't do that to you."

He doesn't talk for a moment, frowning upon seeing your hands massaging into your upper arms. Self-soothing, and the feeling of your own touch makes a sad sort of feeling gather in your chest like dew collecting on leaves on crisp early mornings.

"(Y/n)," Leon murmurs your name with so much emotion behind it that you almost start crying all over again. "You know I love you, right?"

The whole world seems to stop.

"For infinity. Forever," he turns you around from your position and reaches out, hand waiting for your own. When you hesitantly rest your palm in his, warmth radiates from his body into yours. "You're not unlovable. Never in a million years. Not if I have anything to say about it."

You really can't hold back the tears now and his other hand comes up, thumbing them away as they cascade. 

You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him close enough to kiss him properly, unable to vocalize just how much his affirmation meant to you.

Leon kisses you like he needs you to exist. His hands rake across your body and your skin tingles with anticipation. When had you gotten to the point where the line between hatred and need blurred so intensely? When did you start needing his touch to be able to function properly? When did you start craving Leon in the ways that you would have loathed just a few months prior?

You love him, infinitely and eternally. Who knows what the road ahead holds for you both? But, as he carries you to his bedroom and closes the door tightly, you find you’re not as afraid of the future as you had already been.

An angel, fallen from grace. 

But, if this is the consequence, then hey.

You’re not one to complain.

[uhohbestie]

TAMN Outline

Since we're so close to the end of TAMN, I just wanted to share what Lock and my outline looks like, especially because neither of us ever used outlines for writing fic before this LOL

The only reason we have one for TAMN is because we were determined to finish this thing within a year of starting it and really wanted to post a chapter a week. Realistically, between work and irl and different timezones, there was no WAY we'd be able to keep up with a weekly posting schedule OR our self-imposed deadline if we were writing on the fly, so an outline was a good way to keep us on track.

(Details under the cut 'cause this got long af lmao)

SO FIRST OF ALL. We have quick chapter markers to refer to just to keep track of where we're at. The obvious ones are as follows:

🐈 Scar POV Chapters 🦜 Grian POV Chapters 🧟‍♂️ Some sort of significant zombie encounter that chapter 💦 Smut

I took this screenshot a WHILE back so Chapter 12 was actually split into 2 chapters, as was Chapter 14. So while the two emojis in Chapter 14 were meant to signify both Scar and Grian's POVs in that chapter, we ultimately just split it into a separate Scar chapter and a separate Grian chapter.

As for the other markers, this is what they mean at a glance:

✔️ Chapter is written ✔️✔️ Chapter has been edited by one person ✅ Chapter edited by both of us; Ready to Post 💯 Chapter has been posted to AO3

The last one isn't in the screenshot above, but is another one we use. And, ofc, if it doesn't have any of those markers beside it, it means the chapter hasn't been written yet.

Other than that, every chapter heading has not only the chapter number, but a reminder of where Scarian are, the time of day that chapter starts at, and how long of a walk/drive to their next destination remains. Plus, the very first point is always the current date and the weather (in Celsius 🍁) for the day. It looks something like this:

For a short chapter like Ch. 6 where not too much happens, the outline is just a handful of points. Also, we put a strike through things we skipped as we wrote when we felt they no longer fit the mood we were going for. (Basically, the outline is here as a guide and we adjust as needed for full creative freedom.)

Now the LINKS at the bottom lead to ANOTHER document where Lock and I's original conversations are sorted, in case we need to reference back to something we don't remember. That looks like something like this:

So when you click the link, there's a pop up that will take you directly to the original conversation about it located in another doc.

Basically, Lock and I had talked about TAMN for months before every writing it, so when I suggested making an outline, Lock was like "yeah, we basically have a skeleton already with how much we've talked about it". So what we did was, I copy-pasted EVERY conversation we had about TAMN into a Google Doc, and then Lock went through and SUMMARISED EVERYTHING in each conversation into The Main Points. After that, I went and put them into chronological order in a new doc which then became the outline we use today! 💫

Thus, when you click on a link from the outline, you get taken to the conversation summary, and if you scroll down past the summary you get to the actual conversation itself, minus our usernames/formatting/timestamps to make it easier to read at a glance:

And then, ofc, the further along we got in the fic, the more complicated the plot and the chapters got. So instead of short and sweet outlines with a link or two to old conversations, we had to come up with a lot of in between events that still somehow added to the plot and moved the story along to the main points we wanted to hit.

This was actually what took me the longest during outlining, and poor Lock kept going "JUST LEAVE IT BLANK, WE'LL FIGURE IT OUT AS WE GO" but I really wanted to have SOMETHING down just to give us a springboard to launch off of, because we had no idea if we'd have time WHILE writing to come up with anything.

(This continues on for more pages since we combined two chapters into one here, but this is the gist of what the outlines turned into per chapter as we got later and later in the fic LOL)

Turned out to be the right call, because it's saved our asses more than once when on a time-crunch! That said, there were a couple chapters where we DID in fact go "idk about what's in the outline, what if we do this instead?" and then do that because it Felt Right. So again, the outline was super helpful but not a hard and fast rule. (Though Lock and I had our fair share of "WHY DIDN'T YOU WRITE WHAT WAS IN THE OUTLINE"/"I FORGOR" moments that have been fun every step of the way 😂)

AAAND, I THINK THAT'S IT! THAT'S OUR OUTLINE! 🎉

Just wanted to make a post for it to document because it was such a novel experience, hahaha! Like I said earlier, neither Lock nor I ever used outlines before, even when writing fics together for other fandoms :')

I've got two completed longfics under my belt from before TAMN in my last fandom and I wrote those completely on the fly as well. Worked out just fine, but like. It took me 2-4 YEARS to finish the fics, and they were both MUCH shorter than TAMN is. 😅 Nothing wrong with that obviously, but it was a lot of fun to try something new and it felt incredible to be able to have a new chapter ready to go each week! ;w; 💜

We're almost done writing the fic and honestly idk what we're gonna do with all this free time once we've wrapped it up... time to come up with a new longfic ig LMAO

IF YOU MADE IT THIS FAR, HOORAY! 🎊

Here's a little bonus for you--

From the time I went to a gun range and shot both a rifle (near the head) and a shotgun (the spray by the stomach) and took notes so that we could use it in our fic JHGFDSKJHDF THE CRAZY RESEARCH WE'VE BOTH DONE FOR TAMN I STG 😂😂😂😂😂