#co napping is great

[if-you-heart]

sleepypilled cuddlemaxxers

soul acting like a neurotic stray dog to even the smallest bit of affection is so funny to me

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Something that has been on my mind.

Taskforce 141 with a smol reader who can sleep anywhere because she just fits into all the small spaces around the base and everyday it's a game between the taskforce on where they find the reader dozing off on the base! 🙈

Hope you have a good day! 😽

The Great Task Force 141 Hide-and-Seek Champion

Pairing: Poly!Task Force 141 x Tiny!Reader

Warnings: Mild language, ridiculous amounts of fluff, protective 141, jealousy, cuddling

Author's Note: i tried making this poly. You might be able to see it if you squint so… yeah :)

Summary: You have an uncanny ability to sleep anywhere. Thanks to your small size, you manage to squeeze into places no one expects, turning the base into your personal nap zone. At first, it was a game—finding you before Price lost his patience. But slowly, things change. Now, the boys aren’t just looking for you—they’re making sure you’re safe, warm, and taken care of. And maybe… just maybe… they’re realizing they don’t just want to find you. They want to keep you.

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

Day 1: The Supply Closet

"Where the hell is Mouse?"

Price’s voice echoed through the barracks, already laced with exasperation. It had only been an hour since they'd last seen you. An hour. And you’d already vanished.

Gaz, standing casually by the doorway, sipped his tea. “Check the supply closet.”

Soap narrowed his eyes. “Why the hell would she be in the—”

Ghost, moving like a man far too used to this, didn’t wait for the debate. He walked straight to the supply closet, gripped the handle, and pulled it open.

There you were.

Curled up on one of the metal shelves, wedged between a stack of MREs and a pile of folded tarps. Your cheek was pressed against a plastic-wrapped ration pack, arms tucked under your head like a damn cat.

Soap stared. “Yer kiddin’.”

Price sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. "How the hell do you find this comfortable?"

You stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent before sleepily muttering, “Warm.”

Gaz snorted. “Comfortable, Mouse?”

A small nod. “Mm.”

Ghost studied you in silence, then turned and walked away.

Soap gawked. "We’re just leaving her here?"

Ghost shrugged. “She’ll wake up eventually.”

Price sighed. He wasn’t paid enough for this.

——

Day 5: The First Shift in the Game

It started small.

The first time Soap found you tucked into an abandoned supply box, he huffed out a laugh, shook his head—and left his jacket over you.

The next time, Gaz found you curled up under a desk and quietly slid his extra hoodie beneath your head.

Price, despite all his grumbling, was the one leaving snacks.

And Ghost? He never woke you. Never disturbed you. But he stood guard.

The others didn’t notice at first. But after a few days, Soap started eyeing him.

"Y’know, mate," he smirked, "fer someone who acts like he don’t care, you sure stand ‘round a lot whenever Tiny’s sleepin’."

Ghost didn’t react. Didn’t even blink.

But the next morning, when you woke up in your favorite nap spot, there was a blanket over you.

——

Day 12: The Wrong Soldier Found You First

This was not part of the game.

Normally, it was them who found you. Normally, you’d wake up to soft teasing, grumbling, or just being carried away in Soap’s arms.

But today?

Today, some random soldier found you first.

It was innocent at first.

The guy had walked into the break room, noticed your small form curled up in the corner, and let out a snicker.

"Christ, does she ever actually work?"

The temperature dropped.

The conversation across the room stopped.

The soldier barely had time to react before four very dangerous men turned to look at him.

Ghost’s voice was low. Cold. "What did you just say?"

Soap moved first, stepping closer—a little too close. "Say it again, mate."

Gaz threw an arm around your shoulders, very pointedly shifting you away from the guy.

And Price? Price just gave the final nail in the coffin.

“She’s with us.”

The soldier left.

Quickly.

——

Day 20: The Final Nap

At this point, Price was done.

"Alright," he sighed, rubbing his temples. "Where the hell is she now?"

Soap groaned. "We've checked the barracks, the mess hall, the damn armory—"

Gaz cut in. "—and all the lockers."

Ghost, silent as ever, merely looked up.

The team followed his gaze.

And there, sticking out of an open vent, were a pair of very familiar boots.

Soap wheezed. “Oh, no bloody way!”

Gaz just stared. “I don’t even wanna know how she got up there.”

Price turned on his heel and walked away.

“I don’t care anymore,” he announced. “If she falls, she falls.”

Ghost crossed his arms. “She’ll come down eventually.”

Soap grinned. “God, I love this game.”

——

Day 27: The End of the Game

They weren’t expecting to find you here.

Ghost stopped in the doorway first.

Soap nearly bumped into him before looking past and freezing.

Gaz, coming up behind them, just blinked. “Well… shit.”

There you were.

Curled up in Ghost’s bed.

And not just curled up—wrapped in his blanket, half-buried under the heavy black comforter, nuzzled into his damn pillow.

Ghost just stared.

Soap broke first. He grinned. “Oh, this is rich.”

Price, arriving last, sighed. "At this point, she’s not hiding anymore. She’s just making a statement."

Ghost finally moved forward, stepping to the edge of the bed. He tugged at the blanket.

Nothing.

You made a soft, grumpy noise, burrowing deeper.

Soap snorted. “Mate, she just claimed yer bed.”

Gaz smirked. "Might as well get in."

Ghost glared.

Price, done with all of them, turned to leave. “You deal with it.”

Ghost exhaled through his nose before sitting on the bed.

The shift in weight made you stir, eyes cracking open.

"...Ghost?"

He hummed.

You blinked sleepily at him before mumbling, "...Warm."

Soap grinned. "Y’know, mate, if ye just let her sleep with ye, we wouldn’t ‘ave to find her all the time."

Ghost stared.

And, to everyone’s surprise…

He laid down.

Didn’t move you. Didn’t wake you. Just shifted so you weren’t alone.

Soap gawked. “No bloody way.”

Gaz smirked. “I think she wins.”

Ghost just closed his eyes.

Fine.

She wins.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[silhouettecrow]

365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 313

Adjective: Rapid

Noun: Skin

Definitions for those who need/want them:

Rapid: happening in a short time or at a fast pace; (of movement or activity) characterized by great speed

Skin: the thin layer of tissue forming the natural outer covering of the body of a person or animal; the skin of a dead animal with or without the fur, used as material for clothing or other items; a container made from the skin of an animal such as a goat, used for holding liquids; the peel or outer layer of certain fruits or vegetables; the thin outer covering of a sausage; a thin layer forming on the surface of certain hot liquids, such as milk, as they cool; the outermost layer of a structure such as a building or aircraft; a strip of sealskin or other material attached to the underside of a ski to prevent a skier from slipping backward while climbing; (computing) a customized graphic user interface for an application or operating system; (informal) (British) a skinhead; (informal) (especially in jazz) a drum or drum head; (informal) relating to or denoting pornographic literature or films

[candycryptids]

Oops 🥴

[planetpiastri]

pairing: lando norris x fem!australian!reader [no faceclaim] summary: honestly, you kind of expected this part-time gig to just be four days of pure chaos that gave you an excuse to see an f1 race up close. then some guy in the fanzone complimented your shoes, and the rest is history. notes: requested by anon!! this has been sitting in my drafts for aaaaages, sorry love <3 y'all are so brave for putting up with me while i try and remember how tf to write these uhhh yeah this one took a turn hope u like it anyway LMFAO

liked by oscarpiastri, ynusername, and 13,024 others

ausgp Arriving in style! The lads looked great at the Melbourne Walk today 🤩🤩

view all 1,654 comments

username1 lewis and zhou are absolutely slaying!! and oscar is also there

ynusername oscar i love you but you gotta step up your game mate, i wanna wear your merch so bad but it is UGLY!!

landonorris excuse me ausgp i think my fit was deserving of recognition in this post :(

ausgp Can't compete with the hometown hero 🤷‍♂️ landonorris but daniel isn't in this either ? oscarpiastri You're funny.

landonorris

liked by mclaren, ausgp, and 811,364 others

landonorris he shoots, he scores! thanks for such a warm welcome melbourne :)

view all 7,023 comments

oscarpiastri You and I have different definitions of scoring I think

landonorris ever heard of playing the long game? oscarpiastri Nurse he's out again

username2 where's the worker with the shoes i think they're indirecting her

username3 GET THIS MAN THE SHOE LADY'S DIGITS

maxfewtrell Now that's just uncalled for

ausgp Love to see the spirit 😉

username4 aww lando always looks so happy in melbourne, he loves it here :'))

ynusername oh wtf

liked by ausgp, yourfriend, and others

ynusername busy busy busy day, absolutely buggered, but very excited for tomorrow 😁 (also peep The Shoes on the last slide)

view all 89 comments

yourfriend i mean... he's right, they are sick shoes

ynusername you're just saying that cos you made me buy them yourfriend well yes!

username5 omg are u the girl who was working the fanzone today??

ynusername i was one of them!

username6 ok if this is the shoe lady i don't blame lando for staring she's so pretty omg

yourfriend "the shoe lady" ynusername i've been titled?????

ynusername

liked by yourfriend, landonorris, and others

ynusername weirdest work day ever (included today's shoes bc apparently it's a thing now)

view all 112 comments

yourfriend that wrap was good as hell tho

ynusername deffo the most exciting part of lunch

username7 wait who is this girl and why does lando follow her?

username8 go to lovestruckln on twitter, she has a whole thread about it!

landonorris ...weird in a good way, right?

username9 your lack of rizz is astounding lando username10 bro STAND UP ynusername weird in an interesting way landonorris i'll take that

landonorris

liked by ynusername, ausgp, and 1,011,023 others

landonorris melb, you have my ❤️

view all 8,327 comments

username11 SHOE GIRLLLLLL

username12 i hope they never hard launch and he just keeps posting pics of cool sneakers

georgerussell63 You're welcome

charles_leclerc You did it, you crazy son of a bitch ausgp Where's our credit?? georgerussell63 You put the pieces in play, I moved them into checkmate ynusername you threw a shoe at me. calm down. ausgp He what???

username13 bro's collecting aussies like infinity stones

danielricciardo ?? oscarpiastri No ynusername :// landonorris 😁😁

ynusername you're cool ig 🙄

landonorris your swag style and utter disdain for me has captured my heart ynusername oh my god stop i'm blushing

tagging: @thearchieves @sheridamn @nikfigueiredo @charlig123456789 @ilove-tswizzle @aandreea2005 @sideboobrry @vellicora @eire-the-egg @marymustdie @cocote1410 @taygrls @koalapastries @vroomvroommuppett @nichmeddar @d3kstar @333kiki @ririyulife @resident-swiftie @zimm04 @jupiter-je-taime @ever_bizzare @clemswrld @hollieeelol @leireggsworld @ironmaiden1313 @lunar-racing @lightninginab0ttle @maddie-naps @bwddermilch @pnkwhskyprncss @landossainz @chaotic_version

request: hiya! i love how funny your smau’s are and i’m begging for an aussie!reader x Lando one. maybe she works for the AusGP and they met in Melbourne? idk -anon

[amidnightqueery]

So it's been a month since this post. I was just told my room leader is quitting, so I'm now taking on some of her responsibilities. I don't think they've confirmed a new room leader yet (it won't be me, I'm not equipped for that – unless I have a co-room leader). It says a lot about the state of the industry that, after working as break cover/IS for a year, I've been made a permanent in one room and have been so for a mere 4-5 weeks before having this dropped on me. Once the RL leaves I'll be the most senior one in there because the other worker who was permanent in there dropped down to casual a month ago (thus granting me the position she was in). To throw another spanner in the works, it seems the other staff member I'll be working with (recently casual, now permanent) who has been dropped in there only this week is going to be hella frustrating to work with because she appears to think she can overrule me when I know the routines and children better by virtue of being in that room longer and at the centre more consistently. Sighhh

I've been kind of wanting a more important role at work, and now that I've been given one I almost feel like shitting myself lol

[shhhsecretsideblog]

Against All Odds

A bodyguard and his charge are secretly dating and expecting their first child. But as Melissa approaches her due date, things take a dramatic turn at her father’s campaign rally….

(25k words!!! Content: childbirth, violence, death (not MC’s), non-con elements, mortal peril, clothing birth, birth denial)

Story co-written by the incredibly talented @wootenbassett75 and will be posted in parts to his DA account here

~•~

His suit was pressed, and his gun fastened to his hip beneath the jacket. Victor had been in the bodyguard game for nearly a decade now, yet none of his previous gigs compared to his current. For the past year, he had been on the personal detail for Senator George Matthews. Well, not his detail, but that of his daughter. At first he had regretted it, seeing this as a glorified babysitting duty for some spoiled politicians kid that had never been told no. Oh how wrong he’d been. 

It all started ten months earlier, a Christmas party her father had been holding for his campaign supporters. Up to that point, he had mostly avoided conversation with Melissa, finding the fierce independence she had as a nuisance. She hadn’t wanted a bodyguard, and apparently only relented due to her fathers position making them all potential targets of groups that had less than savory intentions. At the party though, something happened. Victor didn’t know what, but one thing led to another and they spent the night together, then the next week, it happened again, and again, and again. Before long they were having their secret love affair whenever they could get away. All seemed well, till those two pink lines appeared.

She was pregnant, and Victor was the father. They couldn’t come out and say it, he’d never get to keep his job. So, she claimed it was a fling, a one night stand with a man she didn’t recall the name of. Her father had been furious, but eventually relented. Now months later here they were. He tried so hard to be with her at all times but it didn’t work. At the hotel he wasn’t able to sleep in her room due to the constant eyes of the press. He’d protested about her even coming, the baby was due soon, this party was the last place she should be. But he had a job to do, and there was no way he could convince her or her father otherwise. 

Victor pulled out his copy of her room key, and entered. “Melissa?” He called out. “You awake? The party is already starting.”

“I’ll be out in a minute.” Melissa said from the en-suite of her hotel room, leaning against the sink and shifting her hips side to side. 

After arriving at the hotel mid-afternoon Melissa had disappeared to her room to take a nap; being 39 weeks pregnant and carrying the weight of a bowling ball in her pelvis all day was exhausting, so she took the opportunity to rest before the event tonight. She only managed to get an hour or two rest before she was awoken by a dull ache cramping across her womb and the need to use the bathroom. 

On pulling down her clothes and sitting on the toilet she soon discovered she had lost her mucus plug. Part of Melissa was excited at the sign that she was nearing the birth of her child. But the timing wasn’t great. Her father’s campaign was reaching its pivotal point and it felt like every other day she was required at some event or another, helping to create the perfect family image, to aid her fathers bid for Senate. 

They were hoping she’d go overdue to when all the craziness of the campaign was over, so she and Victor could disappear for a few days and have their baby together. Melissa clung firmly on to that plan, determined to get through this final week. 

After discarding her ruined underwear she quickly showered and freshened up, wrapping the fluffy white hotel towel around her swollen body. She felt another dull ache ripple through her middle and leant against the sink taking slow breaths. That's when she heard Victor enter her hotel room. After the practice contraction ended she waddled out of the en-suite, towel still wrapped around her, and saw him standing there in his suit for the party tonight. 

“Don’t you look handsome this evening.” She said, smiling brightly. 

Victor chuckled. “And you look like you’re glowing.” In the privacy of this room, he had no hesitation walking up to her, placing both hands on her towel wrapped bump, and planting a kiss on her lips. Beneath his hands he could feel that slight tightening, but having been unable to read any of the pregnancy books thanks to an overly nosey roommate, he thought that was just some kicks. “I see our girl is anxious about the party too.” He knelt, and gently opened the towel so he could see the soft flesh of her belly. “Behave in there lil Miss. Mommy has to give a speech tonight.” Victor kissed her navel and stood. “You did remember your speech right? You dads staff will have a heart attack if you wing it like you did in that last party.” A fond memory, watching her fathers upity speech writer lose his mind.

Victor walked to her bed, keeping one hand on the small of her back to guide. None of the dresses seemed like they would be comfortable in his mind, but he knew very little of women’s fashion. That being said, he’d never seen her more comfortable than in one of his tshirts and sweat pants with a tub of ice cream balanced on their daughters dwelling.

“Yes, yes, I remembered the speech. It’s in my handbag somewhere…. I think.” Melissa added with an uncertain giggle as she lowered herself onto the edge of the bed. 

The second her weight transferred onto the mattress a small hiss slipped from her mouth and she immediately lifted and adjusted her seated position. “Oooof— she’s tucked so damn low it feels like I’m sitting on something.” She joked. 

Melissa closed her eyes briefly, exhaling heavily, before opening her eyes and running her hand over her towel-clad belly. “I’m not sure any of the dresses I’ve brought for tonight are even going to fit. I’m huge. Could you get the black one from my bag please? I think that’s my best bet. You’re definitely going to have to help me get dressed.” A smirk flashed across her lips. 

Victor returned the look, then shook his head. “Of course I’ll help you baby.” He said, moving to grab the dress. He removed it from the back, he’d seen her wear this one before, months ago, when she was far smaller. They were going to be lucky if they didn’t have to cut this off of her when the party was over. He saw some other items that he was unsure if she’d be planning to wear, so grabbed them too. When he returned he had the dress as well as panties, a bra, and pantyhose. “No funny business ma’am.” He winked. If Victor was honest with himself, she carried pregnancy so well that it somehow made her even more attractive. It’d led to some adventures beneath the sheets. “What first?”

Melissa winced a little as she adjusted her position on the side of the bed, the baby determined to stay nestled right between her hips making it impossible to find any sort of comfort. 

“Underwear first please.” She said, pleasantly surprised Victor had managed to select a matching set that was also black to go with the dress. Throwing open her towel in a casual fashion, Melissa then tried and failed to stand up. Scoffing in annoyance she took the garments from Victor and proceeded to put her underwear on as much as she could while sitting. 

From the corner of her eyes she could see the smirk of amusement as Victor watched her struggle around her belly that was weighing heavily over and between her thighs. 

“Don’t you dare laugh.” She playfully warned. 

“Not a word.” He said, holding his hands up. The smile remained though. “Miss Independent, how about you ask the father of your child for a hand huh?” It wasn’t the first time he’d helped her, and certainly wouldn’t be the last. Victor took her hands, waiting till she gave the go ahead to pull her to her feet. 

That discomfort in her face made him desperately wish he could take it away, but knew that there was nothing to be done until their little bundle made her grand appearance. An idea did come to mind though, one that could give temporary relief. Victor put her hands on his shoulders, then knelt to help her raise her underwear. Dirty thoughts came and went. Later, they’d have some fun later. He managed to get her panties on, then went to work on the pantyhose. 

“Ah shit…” He grumbled, realizing once they were to her knees that they were apparently inside out. They both got a good laugh out of the mistake. All in all, dressing took almost thirty minutes. “You look beautiful.” He told her as they worked the dress. “Now turn around.” It wasn’t a suggestion. Victor turned Melissa so she faced away from him, slowly, he placed his hands on the underside of her belly, and lifted up. Videos circulating on the internet told him this would relieve some of the aches and weight temporarily.

“A pre party gift.” He whispered in her ear, planting a kiss on her cheek.

The sound that left Melissa’s lips as Victor gently lifted her swollen belly was low and full of blissful relief. 

“Oh wow—” Her head tilted back, melting into his embrace as she was granted a temporary respite from the weight she’d been carrying. “I need you to never stop doing this…” She said with a soft giggle of amusement knowing full well they couldn’t navigate the evening in this position. Especially as no one knew of their relationship. They’d be lucky to get away with meaningful looks and a few subtle points of contact with all the eyes watching. 

Reluctantly after a few minutes Melissa gave Victor a silent signal it was okay to let go and she braced herself for the weight and pressure to return to her hips. She didn’t bank on another cramp hitting at the same time and she groaned a little hunching over slightly. Attempting to walk off the seized muscles she waddled over to the desk to get her clutch, remembering to include her speech. “We are definitely doing that again later, that felt incredible. How did you know to do that?” She asked in pleasant wonder, her hand absentmindedly rubbing under her belly already missing the support of her partner’s hands.  

“One of those internet things. ‘What to do for your pregnant partner’.” Victor explained. “It also had ‘make her favorite meals’, and ‘get her a pregnancy pillow’. You kinda beat me to both of those so, this was the next best thing. After the party I’ll give you a foot massage. Read that they can help this late into pregnancy. Lord knows heels look uncomfortable even at the best of times, I can’t imagine how irritating it’ll be for you to wear them with lil Miss in there.” To ease the amount of walking, he grabbed her handbag for her. 

Together they walked to the door, his hand on her the entire time. Before reaching for the handle, Victor gave Melissa one last passionate kiss before they would practically be separated for the entire night.

“I love you, and our girl. Once this nights over we will do anything you want, promise.” With his proclamation said, Victor opened the door. The night would be simple, easy, just a little speech and he could sneak her away to relax and get out of her restrictive clothing. What he hadn’t told her yet, was that he had a little box in his pocket, and a hotel room reserved one town over with flowers, chocolates, and candles all laid out. Along with a note, one asking the question he should’ve asked the day she showed him the test.

Inside the lift going down to the ground floor Melissa looked in the mirror, adjusting her soft curls that skimmed her shoulders, ignoring the way her belly felt like it was tightening again. These braxton hicks had an annoying habit of happening at the worst time and she just hoped it wouldn’t happen while she was giving her speech. 

She stepped closer to Victor, seeing their reflections in the mirror and wondered what their daughter would look like. Would she have her red hair, or her fathers blue eyes… 

“One more week. Then my fathers campaign will be over and we can welcome our daughter into this world together.” Her voice was soft and quiet, as if worried someone would hear through the doors. 

The lift slowed, approaching the ground floor where the event was being held. Facing the doors they stepped apart but kept their fingers linked, giving each other a loving smile before separating as the doors opened and their facade began. 

Victor understood politics about as well as an ancient Roman would understand the use of smart phones. He knew there was a vote coming, and that Melissa’s father was predicted to win in a landslide, but he had no clue what his policies even were. As it was from the beginning of their relationship, Victors facial expression was that of perpetual boredom when he was working. Eyes scanned the crowd, hands at his sides and kept open in case quick access was needed to his handgun. Not that he would. Besides himself, Victor knew Melissa’s father employed four other private security guards for his staff. 

“Another boring party eh?” Asked one of the guards, an older man with gelled back hair.

“Quiet nights make our job easier don’t they Felix?”

“True.” Felix said, his own body set to spring into action. “How’s Dandelion?” He asked, pointedly looking at Melissa as she socialized.

“She was fine. Just moving slow today.” Victor worked to keep his tone level. Felix was ex-military, Military Police to be specific. The man could sniff a lie from miles out. “Rooster and Hen?” Victor asked, steering the conversation away.

“Hen stayed in the room, turns out that it was the flu, not a stomach bug. Rooster is talking to campaign investors at your two o’clock.” Victor looked, and saw the Senator. “Head on a swivel tonight. Rumor has it he pissed off quite a few people with some announcement.”

“Will do.” Victor said, and left the veteran guard to his duties, moving to where he could watch the woman carrying his child speak with others till speech time.

Melissa moved around the hall with the social ease of a butterfly; although she had not followed in her fathers political footsteps and despised half the people in this room, her upbringing meant these formal events were second nature. Effortlessly navigating conversations, speaking with the relevant people, singing her fathers praises - being the perfect reflection of the perfect candidate. 

Her pregnancy had initially caused a little controversy for the campaign but the negative press soon died out and now, being quite visibly heavily pregnant, everyone was fawning over the impending new child. It was almost impossible to get through a single conversation without someone touching her bump without asking or making some comment about her looking ready to ‘pop’. Melissa smiled falsely through gritted teeth, both from annoyance but also the persistent cramps that continued to plague her evening. 

The dress was too tight, making her belly heavier and firmer beneath the black form fitting fabric. Pressing a hand into her aching lower back, she turned to find a comforting face through the crowd watching her silently. She smiled, feeling instantly more relaxed at the sight of Victor's dimples as he returned the smile.  

“Hey!” A voice as piercing as the last time Melissa had heard it echoed through the room. Quickly approaching was one of the only people who was actually closer to her age than her fathers. “Melissa girl, I thought you were going to be held up in some hospital somewhere, look at you!” Genevieve Wilkins, or Evie as she preferred to be called, was a friend of Melissa’s from college. Her short pixie cut brunette hair gave her a tomboy look that did nothing to suppress her femininity. 

She wore a pants suit, her press badge proudly on display for all to see. While they had known one another for years, even Evie was unaware of the childs true father. That didn’t stop the reporter making her attempts at guessing. 

“You are looking great! I’m surprised to see you out and about. If I were as pregnant as you my ass would be on the couch watching tv and eating my feelings.” She smiled. “I know I ask every time we see each other but… cmon… an exclusive story for your best friend? The name of your babies father?” Evie was only half joking, such a story would make her career as a reporter in the political scene.

Melissa laughed at the audacity of her friend; she was like a dog with a bone when she wanted something. “Well….since you’re my best friend and all…” She said in a hushed voice, looking around them before leaning in towards Evie, opening her mouth with the distinct impression she was about to share a secret. 

“…I’m still not telling you.” Melissa whispered into her friend's ear before laughing loudly, holding the swell of her bump that seemed to jolt with the laughter. Evie playfully swotted her shoulder, scowling with annoyance. 

“Seriously though, I’m just not ready for that yet. I’m sorry.” Melissa made a conscious effort not to look towards where she knew Victor was standing nearby and watching, not wanting to give her friend any sniff of a story. Changing the subject she asked “Is the dress alright? It was the only option that still fit, this little one just doesn't stop growing. I feel huge. But I couldn’t miss the party tonight, Dad’s got me giving yet another speech.” She rolled her eyes, unconsciously shifting her hips a little as her back flared up again in discomfort, the tension wrapping around her sides and up her spine. 

“I just need to get through this week. Oooof— One more week, then the campaign will be finished and I can focus on my little girl.” Her affection for the baby shone through her bright smile, hands cradling the underside of her belly as she spoke, rubbing away the tension that had caused a little moan to slip past her lips. 

“Ugh, another speech. Of course.” Evie sighed. “Not that you are a bad speaker, it’s just, having you do all these speeches is dumb. Let a soon to be mom relax why don’t you.” The reporter didn’t seem to notice the moan, that or she assumed it was just one of the many joys of pregnancy. Constant discomfort. “When the time comes, I expect to be your first call girl. I have duties as favorite Aunt that I can’t properly fulfill if I’m not at the hospital to meet her.” Evie smiled, placing a comforting hand on Melissa’s arm. “And yes, that dress looks great on you. Shows off your curves just enough.” She winked, that playful nature ever present.

Meanwhile across the room, Victor was watching with bated breath. Evie, he only interacted with the reporter a handful of times. ‘Nosey’ was an understatement with that woman. He shifted his gaze momentarily, spotting the Senator and some other partygoers pouring glasses of scotch. God, he would kill for some alcohol, but that was one thing he’d sworn off. ‘If you can’t drink, then neither will I.’ Victor should’ve just gotten Melissa a puppy. 

“Excuse me?”

Victor was pulled from his thoughts, a man dressed like the wait staff stood before him with a platter.

“Yes?”

“The party is running out of food already and the Senator requested that catering be ordered. Do you have the gate code so the delivery can come in?”

“Oh, uh yeah. #9921856. Then you press the unlock button and the back door opens.” Victor said, only half paying attention. 

“Thank you sir.” The waiter said. In his distraction, Victor missed that the staff member with whom he’d just interacted with had no name tag, unlike all the others present.

While Evie was regaling the story behind her latest article, Melissa found herself zoning out a little, distracted by the tightening and heaviness of her belly. It wasn’t anything unusual, she’d been experiencing cramps sporadically ever since she reached 36 weeks, but she was starting to notice the frequency in each pulse of discomfort. 

Nodding habitually along with Evie’s animated story, her hand moved across her belly and she felt it harden beneath her fingers. A sharp inhale pulled through her nostrils as the tension peaked and the baby shifted. 

“C-can you hold my drink hun?” She interrupted her best friend, practically shoving her glass of sparkling water into Evie’s hand. “I need to nip to the bathroom. Baby’s pressing right against my bladder.” With a forced smile and lighthearted joke Melissa was waddling away before Evie had a chance to respond. 

Thankfully the ladies bathroom was empty and Melissa sighed in relief as she went straight up to the sink and braced her palms against the counter, letting go of a quiet moan. “Oooohhh…..” Everything felt so tight and heavy, her hips moving in natural circles around the baby’s low position between her hips. 

“Mmm… no, no…. Please just be false labour…. You don’t want to come now baby….” Melissa looked down at her body, speaking to the bump packed tightly into her black dress. “Your dad and I have everything planned for next week…. Stay safe in there a little longer for me sweetie.” 

Her body responded with another sharp contraction, forcing Melissa to grit her teeth to stop any sounds from echoing around the empty women’s bathroom. 

There were too many people. How hard could it be to keep track of a heavily pregnant redhead? Victor, after a solid ten seconds of scanning the crowd, relented. 

“Oh hello handsome.” Evie said as he approached. “I assure you I’m allowed to be here, look, press.”

“I know. Where did Mel, I mean, where did Ms Matthew’s go?” There wasn’t panic in his tone, not yet at least. There was however, concern. He knew next to nothing about pregnancy and as a result immediately thought the worst could have happened.

“Oh! Her little one was dancing on her bladder.”

Victor nodded, and wove through the bodies of rich people till he reached the bathroom. An instinct he didn’t understand told him to go in, but logic prevailed. Others would notice if he went into the women’s restroom. So, he gingerly knocked on the door.

“Ms Matthew’s? Is everything alright?”

On hearing the knock Melissa’s head whipped towards the door, worrying for a split second someone would come in and see her leaning heavily against the sink and swaying her hips. That voice…his voice sent her heart fluttering despite the current cramp she was still trying to ride out. 

“Yes, e-everything’s fine.” She said with a forced lightness, catching her breath as the discomfort eased away. It was just a few cramps, nothing to worry about and certainly nothing to warrant telling Victor. He faced danger and high stakes situations for a living, a trait she was forever in awe of, but she had the distinct suspicion he wouldn’t take even the hint of a suggestion of being labour very well. They had to keep up appearances, especially tonight at the campaign event, and she wouldn’t risk his career over a false alarm. 

It took her another minute or so to be ready; smoothing her hair back into place and pulling her dress down from where it had ridden up from her swaying, but with a final glance at her reflection she pulled open the door and left the privacy of the restroom. 

“If I can’t hide, neither can you.” Victor whispered when he saw her. She seemed, tired, but not like she usually was. Pregnancy exhausted her and he was used to that. Maybe their night out after this would just turn into a relaxing night in. “Baby girl irritating you? I can give her a firm talking to tonight.” A group of her fathers supporters got a bit too close so Victors demeanor quickly altered to that of the bodyguard. 

People were attracted to his girlfriend like bees to honey, and as per usual, he was the invisible protector. The night continued, and Victor's eyes lingered on the woman who’d stolen his heart. There still seemed to be something off about how she acted. Perhaps the anxiety was finally getting to her, making her constantly rub her belly and sweat.

Melissa found herself needing a seat more often than she usually did during these events; her hips felt like they were carrying the weight of the world and these damn cramps just weren’t going away. She wasn’t timing them, couldn’t bring herself to admit that she might need to, but they were roughly happening every 15-20 minutes. 

Perching awkwardly at the side of the stage on one of the high bar stools she read through her speech, trying to stop herself from cradling and rubbing at her belly. Her father was currently on stage giving his usual confident spiel to his enthusiastic audience, which was mainly filled with wealthy older men who donated generously to his campaign. Plus the press of course. She smiled seeing Evie standing front and centre with her dictaphone and notepad. 

Another cramp seized her womb and Melissa nearly bent over in response, instead gripping her speech and the chair as she took slow and subtle deep breaths through the wave. It was just practice contractions….only practice… then why did the baby feel so damn low-? 

When it came to speeches, the entirety of the security team became one cohesive unit. The Senators body man was on stage with him, remaining a few paces behind and off to the side. Felix was stationed opposite Victor, taking the stage left corner of the raised platform while Victor had the right. He knew Melissa was behind him, and that she was far more fidgety than he’d ever seen before. Over the last hour, Victor watched her like a hawk. Nothing was wrong that he could tell, but it certainly wasn’t right.

“Foyer secure.” Came a crackle over his ear piece.

“Upper floor access secure.” Another said. Victor, out of the corner of his eye saw Felix lift his cuff to his lips to whisper.

“Crowd shows no threats, but keep your heads on a swivel.” He said.

“Possible code red.” A voice said, Victor didn’t know the man’s name, but was aware of his credentials. If he was calling a code red, there was a problem.

“Details.” Felix growled, tensing. Victor did the same, his hands falling to his side.

“Kitchen door wide open. Tape over lock. Building is not secure, repeat, building not…” He was cut off, as if the microphone ceased all existence. 

“I’m en route. Felix keep an eye on Dandelion.” Victor said, turning to move for the kitchen. He passed Melissa on the way, and in a moment of instinct, reached to squeeze her hand. “I’ll be right back.” He whispered, and disappeared into the back of the hotel.

Her eyes followed him as he rushed off out of sight, she didn’t even have a chance to ask what was happening. Melissa looked to the remaining security presence, at Felix, but his face was unreadable. Victor didn’t often leave her side, especially since she reached full term, and she wondered what called him away. 

No one seemed nervous or on edge; her father was making jokes to the audience, the sea of people hanging on his every word. Perhaps it was just a staffing issue, Victor had been closest to the kitchens. She had more pressing things to worry about— 

“Mmmh…” a groan rattled the back of her throat as her belly tightened once again. This time she placed a casual hand under it, hoping the movement looked absentminded and affectionate, keeping her face smiling and watching the stage. They were really starting to take her breath away now, that dull pulsing ache twisting into sharper more focused pulling. As she breathed her way through it she noticed her father wrapping up his speech and beginning her introduction. 

It took more effort than she cared to admit to move herself off of the bar stool and across the stage to the podium. Each step she became more and more aware of where the baby was nestled, low and deep in her pelvis, her waddle more pronounced than ever. 

“Thanks Dad.” Melissa said in range of the microphone, smiling as he kissed her cheek and passed the stage to his daughter. Her hands very quickly found the podium, leaning into it slightly to steady herself, her balance feeling off. Taking a deep breath, she said a silent prayer to her little baby “hold on a bit longer sweetie” before beginning her pre-written speech. 

The kitchens were quiet, and that was the first sign that something was wrong. In his training to become a bodyguard, the instructors always said not to draw your weapon unless your charge becomes endangered. However, Victor was military before he was a bodyguard. That part of his brain took over. 

“Al?” He called, using the echoes of his voice to cover the subtle scratching that was his handgun clearing the leather holster. There was a shuffling off to his left, the direction of the back door. Instinct and training had his pistol raised with his off hand supporting it in less than a second. The further into the kitchen, the more unsettling it became. 

The first body was one of his fellow guards, the bruising around his neck a clear indication of how his life had ended. Victors heart began to pound, blood rushing in his ears as adrenaline flooded his system. Two more bodies, one whom was shirtless, with a name tag tossed onto his chest. The second was a woman, one that Victor knew from the profiling of the staff. She was the head chef. Victor lifted his sleeve to his mouth to speak, and that was when all hell broke loose.

The sounds were muffled, but Victor knew gunshots when they happened. On the off chance it wasn’t his hearing that told him, then the new ventilation in the sleeve of his jacket would make a fine confirmation. Pain lanced through his body, emanating from the graze that hit his left bicep. Three more shots came, all of them intended to kill, but Victor was gone. The bodyguard dropped to the floor, rolling onto his back and pulling the trigger. He missed, spotting his target duck into cover at the last second. 

“Tangos in the kitchen!” He yelled into his sleeve. “Secure the family!” Two more sources of suppressed gunfire came at him, Victor giving himself covering fire as he moved to a counter for protection. “Felix! Do you copy?!”

Felix, couldn’t answer.

Out in the lobby, eight men stood. Felix was gone before he could even reach Melissa, and she was all alone atop the stage. The men wore masks, all identifying markers removed. Three had on wait staff clothing, explaining how one had gotten close enough to stab Felix. 

“Ladies and gentleman!” One called out over the cries of alarm. When they wouldn’t be silenced, a single nod came and automatic gunfire peppered the ceiling. “Ladies and gentleman! I hate to interrupt your party, but there is business to be conducted.” 

Gunfire echoed from the kitchen, from where Victor was. This didn’t phase the masked man. His eyes, were set on the heavily pregnant Melissa.

In the blink of an eye she had gone from giving a speech to frozen in fear. The room was deathly silent, no one daring to move an inch as the men with guns spread out across the room. Felix’s body was sprawled across the stage, the blood pulsing from his body and pooling towards her shoes. 

Her gaze moved across the room, still gripping the podium and keeping her head and torso perfectly still. Where had her father gone? He’d stepped off stage when Melissa began her speech but she couldn’t see him or his bodyguard. The eyes of the armed man who spoke locked onto her making her skin crawl at the darkness behind them. Even though he was wearing a mask, she could tell he was smirking behind the fabric as he stomped towards her. 

One of her hands released the podium, placing itself protective over her swollen belly, and she gulped nervously. “W-what do you w-want?” Her voice stuttered, failing to sound as strong as she wanted. 

“Where is your father darlin’?” The man’s voice was low and gravelled but somehow purred with malicious intent. 

Melissa opened her mouth but words failed her. Her heart thundered in her chest, eyes flicking sharply between his eyes and the gun in his hand that was poised directly at her. It felt like her lungs had stopped working, she couldn’t breathe. Another contraction tore through her body and she whimpered, cradling her belly and gripping the podium with white knuckles. 

“WHERE is George Matthews?!” The man yelled across the lobby, stepping right beside Melissa and putting the gun against the side of her waist. 

This close, she could smell his aftershave, the stink of his breath pungent with every syllable pronounced. There was two more shots from the kitchen, a cry of pain, followed by silence. Less than a minute later, two men emerged.

“Rest of the security is dead boss.” One said, nursing his arm. “Bastard killed Milo and Jamie though.”

“Then that shouldn’t stop you from FINDING THE SENATOR!” The leader shouted, pressing the pistol a little tighter to Melissa. “Search the building!” He pointed at Evie with his handgun. “You! You’re a reporter right? Make sure the world knows this is what happens when cowards are allowed on Capitol Hill.” One of the masked men ran up to him. 

“Cops are on the way. Silent alarm was tripped.”

The leader growled. “Fine.” He said after a moment. “Three minutes, then we go plan B.” He got close to Melissa, inhaling deeply. “Shame on your daddy for leaving a girl to take a man’s punishment.” He said. “Don’t worry, we won’t hurt you too bad.”

The man’s hand gripped her bare arm, pressing the small circular barrel of the gun against her side. Those three minutes were the longest of her life as the other armed men searched the lobby and surrounding rooms for her father. The boss meanwhile had gotten closer, his body almost pressed against her side as she stood frozen on stage. 

“You’re a pretty one, aren’t you.” He sneered quietly into her ear, his hand releasing her arm to stroke the soft curls of her auburn hair. “The photos don’t do you justice.” 

“P-please…. I’m pregnant, don’t hurt my baby.” Melissa croaked. 

“Oh I’m well aware of your… condition.” His hand travelled from her hair down the length of her body until it landed on the full swell she was carrying. “So big, bursting with new life. It's a shame their grandfather is a double crossing bastard.” 

Melissa’s breath hitched with another contraction, grimacing and gritting her teeth as everything tightened and squeezed and pulled downwards. The Boss just took her reaction as one of fear, laughing as his hand splayed across her belly while the other kept firm on the gun pressing into her side. 

She was trembling, paralysed by fear. She always thought she would be good in a crisis, headstrong and fierce, and yet now when the cards were down she couldn’t move. Begging to protect the life of her child. 

Another masked armed man jumped up onto the stage. “Boss - we gotta go. Cops are getting too close.” 

“Times up sweetheart.” The leader sneered, letting go of her belly and grabbing her arm once more. He looked out from the stage, at the sea of people now all on their knees cowering. “This is a message for George Matthews - If you ever want to see your daughter and grandchild again, you will reverse your decision and meet our demands!!”

The leader yanked harshly against Melissa, tearing her away from the podium which she was still gripping for dear life. She stumbled, knees threatening to give way. 

“No! Please— you can’t do this—” she yelled as she tried to break free from his grip only for the other man to grab her other bicep. Together they dragged her stumbling off stage. 

Every instinct was screaming at her to fight, to kick and punch and claw her way out but the men were too strong. Pulling her towards the door she could barely stay standing, her knees wide and shaking. Another agonising unyielding pressure wrapped across her middle and her cries of protest turned into groans of pain. 

“Unhhhh— no— please don’t do this… don’t take me. I’m— I’m having a baby—” The admission came from her mouth without even realising, desperation forcing her to admit aloud that she was in labour. 

But the true meaning of her words were lost to her kidnappers, thinking she was just referring to her very obvious pregnancy. “Shut up!” One yelled, while the other yanked her harshly through the doors and out of the venue. 

They didn’t slow for her. The men practically forced Melissa to skip steps as they descended to the parking lot where the unmarked blue van awaited them. Every shove, every yank, all contributed to her already advancing labor. No one was going to save her, they’d said as much. The men from the kitchen, where Victor had gone, their words hung in the air. The bodyguard was dead.

The Boss shoved her, hard, into the van. Others piled in behind. Distant sirens echoed through the forest, the police, safety was almost there. 

“Get moving!” The boss yelled to the driver, and the van jerked to life, screeching tires leaving two dark rubber lines on the road. They were underway. The boss looked at Melissa, and smiled, removing his mask. “You ain’t leaving till your old man reverses the choices…” His eyes dropped to her belly. “But I wonder how much extra he’d pay to save a grandkid.”

“Don’t touch me—” Melissa shrivelled back from the leader, using her feet to push herself into the corner of the van in an attempt to stop his giant hand from touching her skin. Every pore was sensitive and sweating, her breathing heavy and laboured through the ever increasing tightness wrapping across her middle. 

With his mask removed she could see the unkept beard that framed his jagged face. But those eyes… the way he looked at her, the way his gaze travelled down her body. 

Another contraction had her arms wrapped around her bump, bending forward slightly in her awkward seated position on the floor of the van. “Oooohhh….” A low moan slipped freely from her mouth as she breathed deeply through the intense feeling of her womb contracting. Why were they so intense… her hips were screaming at her to move but the guns pointed in her direction kept her in place. There was no denying it anymore, these pains were happening too often, too intensely. She was in labour…in labour and kidnapped. She was in labour, kidnapped, and the father of her child had just been murdered. The tears rolled silently down her cheeks as she moaned through the contraction. 

“Stop your whining! We’re not even touching you!” One of the men, who had kept on his mask, snarled and lifted his gun towards her face to make a point.

 “Whoa… hang on a sec Clyde.” The leader interrupted, looking curiously at Melissa. His large hand moved to her rounded stomach, splaying wide across its surface over the fabric of her black dress, feeling the hardened muscles beneath. Melissa’s breathing was heavy, terrified and struggling to get through the contraction without moaning. 

“Fuck—” the man cursed with a gravelled voice. 

“What’s going on back there Boss?” The driver called, taking a turn with enough speed to force the others to grab hold of the grips.

“This got much more interesting boys.” Boss said, a smile that would curdle milk directed right at Melissa. “Looks like this girl is about to give us another hostage.”

“What? Wait, she’s having the kid?!”

“Oh yes. And trying her damndest not to show it.” He began to rub her belly, the gun still trained. “Ain’t that right girly?”

“The hell are we doing here? We can’t have her do that in the van! Boss! We need to pull over.”

“No! We are going to the hideout. She can hold it till then.” Boss looked at her, now kneeling so he could lean close. The other men averted their eyes as he planted a kiss on her cheek. “Be good.”

“Fuck this. We need to reassess.” Clyde said. “Pull over!”

Despite the fury in the Boss’s eyes, the van pulled into a gravel cutout and turned off. The men filed out, some arguing. Boss lingered a moment, keeping his eyes on her like a stalker finally close enough to touch his obsession.

Melissa opened her mouth to speak, to plead with him to let her go, but all that came out was a low strained moaning sound as her belly contracted harshly beneath the weight of the Boss’s hand. The relentless pressure in her hips had Melissa pushing her hands into the cold metal floor of the van trying to ease the discomfort any way she could. 

“Yesss…. Oh darlin’ you’re really havin’ this baby soon aren’t ya?” The leader’s voice was thick, captivated by what was happening right in front of him. 

“I need a h-hospital— ooooohhh— please let me-go-unnnngh—” 

“I’m not letting you out my sight sweetheart.” He crooned, his hand moving around in large circles over her belly as if committing this moment to his memory, the way her skin was so firm and taut beneath his scabbed fingers. “You look like you’re about to drop this kid any second. So full and round. And to think… your father made you come to his ridiculous party when you were so close to giving birth.” 

He leaned in closer, the smell of his stagnant breath on her cheek making her want to vomit, and he whispered into her ear “…and I’m so glad he did.” 

He bit her ear, tugging it ever so slightly before pressing his hand harder onto her belly. “Maybe I should check that progress for you. Papers said you ain’t got a man for the kid… I’ll step in.”

Outside, the arguing between the men continued, till from nowhere the revving of an engine filled the air. Through the open side door, Melissa watched three men disappear. A flash of light had preceded it, a car, travelling at insane speeds plowed through the three men. Cries of pain and agony were drowned by the screeching of tires.

“Boss!” Clyde called, one of three who hadn’t been hit. “Boss it’s the bodyguard!”

Gunshots followed immediately, hitting Clyde in the neck, his blood spraying out to cover Melissa and the Boss. The last two living kidnappers opened fire as well, but over the fight, one word could be heard, a man screaming a name.

“Melissa! MELISSA!”

That sounded like— no, it couldn’t be— Melissa’s head craned towards the side of the van to look through the open door trying to see the owner of the voice calling her name. The leader, covered in blood, caught her movements and shoved her back into the corner of the van. 

“Oh no you don’t! You’re not going anywhere!” He spat, kneeling up, blocking her view out the door and gripping her harshly in place. 

Yelling and more gunshots roared from beyond the vehicle, someone was fighting against her kidnappers, someone was helping. Even if it wasn’t Victor, even if he wasn’t dead, there was a small glimpse of hope and Melissa grabbed onto it tightly and screamed loudly. 

“HELP!!! Help me please!” The air tore from her lungs, desperation to get away from this man pumping adrenaline through her veins. 

The man smacked her across the face and covered her mouth with his dirty hand. Melissa pushed against him, clawing and biting to get free, drawing on some primal unknown strength to get to safety…to get to whoever might be helping her. But another contraction twisted her insides, drawing her knees up towards her belly as she curled forwards and groaned into her attacker’s palm. It was too much; the pressure, the tightness, the pain coursing between her hips and shooting up her spine. It was overwhelming. Her vision blurred with unshed tears, the contraction reaching its peak, and she didn’t see the shadow now standing in the doorframe. 

Victor appeared as a specter. In the hotels kitchen he’d been shot in the arm and had another bullet graze his head knocking him unconscious. Upon waking, he’d found and killed the kidnapper whom had been sent to find the Senator. From there it was all a blur, pain and excruciating fear for a life not his own drove him into the parking lot as the kidnappers had escaped. He barely recalled breaking into a car and stealing it, all he saw was red.

Now here he was, out of ammo, yet full of rage.

“Hey!” He growled, and with practiced ferocity, grabbed ahold of the Boss’ belt and collar, using his adrenaline to throw the man out of the van and into the road with his dead comrades. The boss’s gun went with him. Victor advanced, knowing he needed to check Melissa but too scared, too angry to let himself think in that way. He beat on the man, holding his shirt in one hand to lift his face into the punches. “I. Will. Fucking. Kill you!” Victor shouted. He dropped to his knees, straddling the man’s body. Again, Victor pulled him close, but this blow wasn’t from a fist, but an angry headbutt. The Boss was out, dead or unconscious Victor didn’t care. Melissa was what mattered.

“Mel…” He croaked, rising unsteadily. Victor limped back into her view, a shaking hand coming to touch her cheek. “I told you I’d be back…”

“V-Victor?” Melissa croaked, blinking in disbelief and crawling across the van floor to the door where he stood. “I- I thought you were dead… they… they said they killed all the security…” 

She could hardly believe her eyes. The love of her life, the father of her child, standing right there covered in blood and surrounded by bodies. He took her hand and waist, helping her slowly out of the van. She was trembling. 

“Wha— how are you here?” Words nearly failed her. But she threw her arms around him, clinging on to his clothing and breathing in his cologne, as if touching him would make this all real.  

“What matters is I’m here sweetheart, and you’re ok.” Victor couldn’t bring himself to break the hug, even to check on her condition. “How is she?” Concern bleeding into the question. “Did they hurt either of you?” His hand moved down, rubbing her belly. The touch was from love and concern rather than the malicious intent that Boss had used. This was a man who wanted to protect. He felt that perpetual tightness, but his thoughts were too laser focused on injuries to realize that this wasn’t normal. “I’m so sorry, I’ll never leave your side again.”

She pulled back slightly looking up into his sparkling blue eyes, allowing his hand to cradle the swell of her belly that was wedged between them. “No….” She said quietly, shaking her head. “T-they didn’t hurt me or the baby… but… Vi—” 

“Come on, let’s get you out of here.” Victor kissed her sweat-dampened forehead, moving his hand around her waist to support her weight and guiding Melissa away from the blood and bodies littered around the van. 

The adrenaline still pumping through her body was the only thing keeping her legs from buckling as they moved slowly down the gravelled path back towards the main road. The smell of burning rubber ghosted her nostrils, a car abandoned nearby still smoking from the bonnet. She didn’t recognise the car but the blood smears on the open door aligned with the stains on Victor's suit. 

“Are you hurt?” Melissa asked concerned, stopping to look him over, checking for signs of serious injuries. She knew he could survive anything, her strong protector, but the sight of what she was now discovering to be his own blood was turning her stomach. 

“Nah.” He said, his lie obvious to anyone who heard it. “Just a little scratch, I’ve got band aids in the ho-.” In the blink of an eye, Victors gaze left hers, and stared off towards the van. His eyes widened, and grip tightening on her arm he spun his body to place himself between her, and the awakening Boss. A single shot rang, and Victor cried out in pain, and fell to a knee.

When Melissa turned, she saw the blood coming from Victors abdomen, and the Boss grinning.

“I told you I’d step up girlie.” He sneered. “That boy isn’t worth shit, have a real man.” 

“Run…” Victor gasped. “Run!” A hand pressed to the hole in his stomach, Victor managed to get himself and Melissa moving before a second shot rang. There was no third, only a click followed by cursing. The bastard was out of ammo, but that didn’t mean he was harmless. The others had guns, a rifle and two shotguns. 

“You can run girlie! But I ain’t no absentee dad!” A deranged cackle followed them into the woods.

“J-Just keep moving Mel.” Victor's voice was low, the blood loss already affecting him. “I’ll get you out…” 

He swayed, unsteady, and Melissa found herself having to support him slightly as they ran into the thick dense forest. Her stomach turned as she looked down to his hand, clutched firm against his middle. There was so much blood. Dripping between his fingers and seeping into his already stained shirt. 

“Victor… you're—you’ve been— oh my god….” The words barely audible through her heavy breathing as she pushed to move as fast as she could. With one hand supporting injured Victor the other cradled her full and heavy belly, each step was agony throughout her pelvis and spine. 

With slow movements they somehow managed to make it deeper into the woods beyond the direct line of sight from the road. That man, that ‘Boss’… he wasn’t dead, he was still alive! The whites around his eyes as he had called after her were enough to prove his insanity and anger. Victor’s breath hitched beside her, clearly struggling as much as she to move at any sort of speed away from the vengeful kidnapper.  

But then she stopped abruptly. Looking down with betrayal at her own belly as a sharp and twisting contraction came crashing over the horizon and swept her away with the pain. “Oooohhh…. No… not again—not now…” 

Reaching forward her hands braced against a nearby tree as the full strength of active labour tore through her body and an instinctual moan slipped past gritted teeth. The weight of the baby felt so low it forced her legs apart, an urgent pressure growing between her hips. Victor was clutching his own stomach, stumbling back to where she’d stopped, looking pale and horrified. 

Melissa opened her mouth to speak, to explain, Victor didn’t know she was in labour! But the contraction peaked, skyrocketing to higher levels than any of the others she’d felt. Instead of words a low rumbling sound came from deep in her throat, nearly grunting as her knees dipped and hips jutted back, feeling a distinct shift— 

Something gave way. Something changed. The pressure went away in an instant. But it was followed by a warmth dribbling down her inner thighs and her eyes flashed wide in sheer panic. 

At first, Victor had thought it was simply a break. He was ready to tell her that there was no time. But then she doubled over, not too dissimilar to all those times she’d tried to go jogging while pregnant and wound out gasping for breath. He almost laughed, delirium telling him that this was a moment to make light. The grunts were odd, his mind worked to put the pieces together. The logical answer was impossible. After all, she wasn’t due till next week. 

“Melissa?” He questioned, only to see her dress soiled, and a small puddle below her. “Oh…” Victor's confusion was evident, then his eyes went wide as hers! “Oh! Shit, shit.” He hissed. “You’re in labor?!” He was panicking. Immediately, a hand went to her stomach, and another to her cheek. “How close?” He whispered.

“I…I don’t know…. too close…” she said breathlessly, still recovering from the intense contraction. Her bottom lip quivered as she looked at her partner, the faint smell of copper in the air as his bloodied hand cupped her cheek. 

“I think I might have been in labour all day…” Every word was an effort, her body trying to draw all its focus inward onto the primal efforts of its task. But she couldn’t give birth out here… couldn’t have this baby now. The Boss was still alive, Victor had been shot, and they were stuck with no transport in the middle of nowhere. 

“W-what are we going to do?” She panted, her fingers lacing with his on her full and low hanging belly. 

It was dark in the woods, the only source of light coming from the full moon in the clear sky. But even in the low light she could see the paleness of Victor’s skin, the blood loss draining the colour from his cheeks. A stark comparison to her own flushed expression as each breath that filled her lungs was heavy and measured even between contractions. Melissa had no idea how far along she was in her labour, no clue how close their baby was to being born. But her waters breaking and the steady unyielding weight in her pelvis was not a good sign.

“What?! Like now? Is, is she…” Victor looked down at her, an image popping into his head of a baby dangling between Melissa’s legs. “Is she out? She coming now!? What do we do?” Victor asked. He thought there was going to be time, he thought he’d have a whole week to read the baby books? How long was labor supposed to even last? An hour? Two? The movies always implied it was fast and loud, a sure way of them both getting killed belt the kidnapper. Melissa’s body was ejecting their baby, and there wasn’t a way to stop it. 

“Ok, ok.” He breathed, quickly looking back in the direction they’d come from. “C-can you just like… not have her yet? We can’t stop here.” Another glance down, panic evident. “Just hold her in like there’s a line in the bathroom, right?” 

Nearby the cracking of branches announced the Boss stalking closer. He was still ranting.

“I ain’t got money for child support!” He was calling. “But I won’t raise no coward like that body man of yours!”

“H-hold her in—? Fucks sake Victor…. It doesn’t work like that….ooohhh….” Melissa snapped before humming behind closed lips. There wasn’t a contraction happening but that weight…. deep in her pelvis it felt like there was a bowling ball between her hips. 

“She’s not coming out right now but… oh I don’t know, she feels so low. And the contractions are so strong already…. I don’t know how long we have…” she admitted, rubbing the underside of her belly as Victor looked nervously in the direction they had travelled. The thumping of her heart in her ears was so loud, she didn’t hear the rustling of the trees or snapping of the branches. But her blood went cold at the sound of her kidnappers' voice. Getting closer. 

“Can you move?” Victor asked her, his eyes showing concern only for her even with a gunshot wound to the stomach. 

Melissa nodded, still cradling her belly. With Herculean effort she moved away from the tree and they staggered deeper into the forest. 

He wanted to carry her, anything to help her, but even moving was an effort on Victors part. The hole in his stomach was going to make this all much more stressful no doubt. They moved, the pace slow and sloppy. Even in the darkness, it was like following a bull in a china shop. Branches broke, bushes rustled, and Victor was silently cursing. At one point, Melissa had to stop, and he was forced to make her move even as a contraction wracked her body. With regret he took hold of her arms, and guided her.

“You can’t hide girlie!” The voice was further away. Had he actually lost them? Or was this simply a game to him? With the deranged sadistic mind chasing them, the latter was more likely.

“Keep moving.” Victor mumbled, his voice was getting quieter, and Melissa could tell it wasn’t because he was forcing it to. Victor was well and truly lost in the woods, his sense of direction evaporating. He had to protect her, that’s all he knew.

“Hooo…hoooo… ohhh Victor…” Melissa whimpered, her knees trembling and her gait wide as they staggered through the dark wood. “Mmmmhhh…. Oh god I can feel her… she’s so low—ughh-!” 

She nearly doubled over as she clasped her rounded belly and pulled upwards, trying to relieve the building pressure. Another contraction had her curled into Victor's arms and gritting her teeth, trying desperately not to moan as her muscles contracted and her belly turned to stone against him. 

“I— ohhhh— I need you to check me— she feels like she’s right there—” she gasped into his bloodied shoulder, nearly biting down as the pressure spiked. Barely able to speak Melissa prayed the baby wasn’t as close as it felt… she almost felt like she needed to— 

The contraction finished and she gasped for air, pushing her intrusive thoughts away. They would make it to safety. They simply had to. 

“Check?” Victor looked at her like she was insane. “H-how?” 

The look Melissa gave him was a mix of exasperation and exhaustion.

“Right, right…” He had to do it fast, the kidnapper was on their trail. Victor helped her to the tree, seeing how her belly sat impossibly low. Cursing her overly tight dress, he managed to lift it just enough, and knelt. Well, there was no head between her legs, and for that he was thankful. “She’s not there.” 

Melissa groaned. “Fingers. In.” Her voice came between breaths.

“Fingers… Melissa that…”

He couldn’t tell if the sound that came was a growl from her or simply more pain management from the baby coming, so he obliged.

Her hose were ruined, and panties soiled, but there was nothing to be done about that. Grabbing the hem, he tugged and moved till he had access to her. As gently as he could, he inserted two fingers. How deep was he even supposed to go? He didn’t feel a head or anything, was he supposed to? Maybe they had time after all.

“You’re good Mel.” He said, putting her clothes back rather than pulling them off. They had time for that later, he was sure. “Her head is nowhere I can reach.”

She nodded, swallowing a deep breath. “Okay…. Okay that’s a good thing. Unnngh… it certainly doesn’t feel like it but if you can’t feel anything…” 

As Victor stood up from his knees, wincing and holding his stomach, she managed a smile. This man would move heaven and earth for her. “Thank you.” She kissed his lips lightly, holding on to his shoulders as her head tilted up to meet him. 

“Are you alright Victor?” She asked, feeling his clammy skin against her cheek. The baby kicked, harsh and disgruntled. “We need to get moving again, I don’t think she’s going to wait for much longer. That last one was strong, I almost felt like I needed to…” 

Her sentence trailed off, not wanting to say the word aloud. But her body knew, like an instinct somewhere in the recess of her mind. They were running out of time. There was something pressing down so deep inside, urgent and heavy, and somehow she knew the head of their daughter was right up against her cervix. Every move they made brought them closer to meeting their baby, but they couldn’t stop. 

A cackling laugh suddenly echoed through the woods followed by a very loud gunshot. 

The trunk not far from them exploded in a shower of bark. Pellets from a pump action shotgun did very little from a distance, but that didn’t stop a lucky shot from killing you. Victor was growling with effort, trying to get them both moving. The further and longer they ran, the slower they became. Melissa, to her credit, did keep a consistent pace. However each step appeared to force her stance wider and wider, like a saddle sore horseman. The perpetual leaning forward of her posture caused growing concern. Visually her belly looked the same as earlier, so that meant the baby was still up there right? When she got small then he would need to worry.

Another gunshot, another tree peppered with led pellets. The kidnapper was far from being in effective range, but he was catching up. 

Another sound became prominent the further they moved. A roar, for lack of a better word. It took far too long for Victor to realize exactly what that sound was. Water, rushing water. Pulling Melissa behind a tree, he caught his own breath while letting her catch hers. 

“Hear that?” He asked hoarsely. “That’s a river. That’s our ticket. We will never outrun him.” Victor removed his shirt, leaving only the blood stained undershirt as he tied a makeshift bandage around his stomach. A wince escaped his lips as he tightened it. “Nngh, jump in, let the rush carry you…” He said. Victors adrenaline was waning, and to Melissa’s eyes he’d appear on the cusp of passing out. 

“My little baby here yet!” That cackling voice called. “I got so many lessons to teach! Including how to properly discipline a mother who don’t FUCKIN LISTEN!”

Victor took Melissa’s shaking hands. “I love you. I promise you will get out of here.”

“Me…? W-what about you?” Her eyes were wide, searching his, trying to understand what he was suggesting. As realisation dawned her mouth hung open. “You can’t leave me!…. I can’t do this without you….” 

Victor seemed determined, military training having taken over with logical thinking. But he could barely walk as well, practically all the colour was gone from his face and his clothes were drenched with blood from the wound on his stomach. 

“What are you gonna do Vic? You haven’t got any weapons. Hell, you can barely stand. You can’t fight him, he’ll kill you—ooooohhhh—”

Another contraction had Melissa grunting as her knees began to buckle. “Nnnnghh…. I can’t do this… ohhh… the baby is coming soon… don’t make me do this alone….” 

Melissa whimpered, knees shaking as she gripped onto Victor for dear life, trying to get through the agonising wave forcing more and more pressure deep into her pelvis. 

Victor sighed, he had to do this, he had to protect Melissa and their daughter.

“Mel…” He said, trying to find the strength to argue, he had none. The dress was so strained, her hair plastered to her face. The makeup long since wiped away from the combination of tears and sweat. Victor could only imagine how he looked to her. He pulled her close, arms wrapping around her body. Up close hugs had become a thing of the past after their daughter joined, her growth causing her parents to be unable to embrace like they once had. Victor knew there was no time, but he waited, waited for her grip to loosen, his only outward sign that the contraction was over.

“I’ll come. But, baby, I need you to promise me.” He forced her eyes to meet his, thumb and index fingers on her chin. She was so beautiful, so strong, fierce, loyal, independent. She was going to be one hell of a mother. “If you have the opportunity, to escape…” His breathing was uneven, something had to be wrong inside that he wasn’t letting on about. “You run. And you don’t stop till you find the cops.”

Far away, the eerie sound of a deranged man singing a lullaby reached through the woods.

“Promise Melissa. Protect her, before you worry about me.”

The couple remained silent, no exchange or words could soften the awful request he was making. Victor would remain as long as he could, but his time was limited, and he knew it. 

They left the spot, moving at a glacial pace thanks to the constant contractions their daughter was causing. Each stop he saw the woman he loved descend further into pain, panic, and worry. The dress was torn in spots now, and her feet, he wanted to give her his shoes but had no time to stop, and they wouldn’t fit her anyways. He kept them both moving, following the growing sound of the river. It was their only hope. 

They reached the riverbank, both out of breath as they looked across the ravine. The moonlight reflected off its surface, twinkling like stars on the dark depths of the water rushing down stream. Melissa was clutching her belly, panting even between contractions, trying to hold the baby inside of her anyway she could. 

“I— I don’t know if I can get down there—” she said under her breath, looking hesitantly at their only option. The river was just so wide, so deep, a black abyss of uncertainty. Her legs were like jelly, wide and unsteady. The baby was so low it felt like she was seconds from dropping into a squat just to relieve the nauseating pressure. 

The next contraction came before they could formulate a plan, and her body did exactly what she feared. Grabbing Victor's arm as her knees buckled, Melissa dropped into a squat and a low mooing sound came from the depths of her chest. 

“Oh fuck— uhhhh— pressure—” her knuckles were white pulling Victor down as she sank further into the squat. “—nnngh— I think— I think I wanna push—?” 

“Push? Nonono.” Victor practically fell beside her. “Melissa, don’t push.” He tried to touch her bump, finding it a malformed mass rather than its previously rounded state. “Breathe, j-just breathe. All we have to do is, ah!” He winced as she pulled him closer. For fear of her making too much noise, he pulled her into a hug, his free hand pressing her face into the crook of his shoulder. “Do whatever you have to do, but you can’t push Mel.” His eyes darted the treeline praying that their pursuer wouldn’t hear whatever noises she had to make to prevent pushing.

Melissa clung awkwardly to his body, her knees had spread wide in her squat but her face was somehow buried against his neck. Groaning deeply she worked through the intensity of the contraction, feeling every millimetre of progress her body had made now in this position. Her hips felt like they were being wedged apart, her lungs ached from each ragged breath. She resorted to panting, heavily and desperate as the pressure built quickly to its peak. Mercifully the contraction let her go and the sudden panicked urgency of birth faded away. 

“Oh my god…. That was…. Oooohh….” Forming any sort of sentence was an effort but she slumped against him breathing slower and she hoped it would be taken as a sign the moment had passed. 

Slowly she lifted her head, worrying filling her eyes as she looked desperately to Victor whose arms were still supporting her squatted position. “I think we’re running out of time…” 

“You got that right darlin’…” A cold voice came from behind the trees. 

Victor moved in the blink of an eye, yanking her up to her feet at the sound of a gun being loaded. “Jump!” He yelled, squeezing her hand tight. Obeying without question, survival instincts giving her the required strength, together they leapt off the riverbank. 

The shock of ice cold water hitting them was akin to a freight train running down a car. For Victor, it spiked his adrenaline to the point that he forgot he’d even been shot. Heart pounding, he fought the current to reach the surface with speed. Was he still holding Melissa’s hand? Victor squeezed, finding that she was in fact still there. For Melissa, it only made things worse. Ice cold water forced all her muscles to contract involuntarily. In the dark depthless river, Victors hand was the only comfort. 

He found her with his other hand, and kicked down hard, bringing them both back up to the air. Only seconds were spent submerged, yet it felt like an eternity since the pair had breathed air. Silence fell as the roaring returned. In the short time, the couple was already nearly a hundred yards downstream. Their pursuer was nowhere in sight, had he jumped too? Or simply given up? The latter was too good to be true. A rock hitting his leg pulled Victor from his thoughts, and he tightened his grip on Melissa, doing all he could to keep her above water.

“Hold on!” He shouted, and she could feel him not only holding her, but also wrapping around an arm to protect their baby in her womb.

The need for air triumphed over the pain and the ice cold water. She tried to move her legs, to swim so Victor didn’t have to keep all three of them afloat, but her lower half had stopped listening to her mind… legs spreading under water around the head constantly pressing against her cervix.

Water spluttered from her lips as she groaned, her body contracting, the baby moving down. The water was strong, plunging down stream with a frightening ferocity. Their heads kept getting pulled under, but Victor’s arm around her body kept bringing them to the surface. 

Goosebumps covered her body, she had been so hot and sweaty trying to escape the wood in active labour but now every pore had clamped up against the frozen temperature and was screaming in protest. Her ripped dress was thankfully short enough to have ridden up her thighs but its fabric was tight across her skin, making her feel trapped in both the water and her own clothing. 

They weren’t going to make it. This would be how it ends… drowning in the dark.  Never meeting her daughter. Never marrying Victor. Never having that happy life she had pictured. 

But then the water calmed, no longer pulling them under and almost lazily carrying them down stream. 

“V-Victor— are you okay?” She gasped, still secure in his arms as he worked tirelessly to save them. 

“I’ve. Been. Better.” He said between gulping breaths. He kept her tightly held to him, a hand against her contracting womb. Even submerged, he could feel how different her belly was. “Let’s not, do that again.” He forced a smile, it was weak, and the hair plastered to his face thanks to the water made it seem like a delusional joke. 

For a few minutes, they just floated, the pair catching their collective breaths till Victor asked the question he’d been afraid to ask.

“How close?” No context was needed, for only one thing could make Victor, a man of action, bravery, and integrity soften his voice and fill it with such concern. His chest was to her back, an arm around her chest just beneath her breasts and above her belly, while the other remained on her stomach. Could that jump have hurt their girl? Could it all have caused her to be born in the water? 

Melissa’s legs floated uselessly in the water, naturally wide apart, her dress gathered just under her hips. At Victor’s question she lowered a shivering hand around her belly and felt between her thighs. She winced at the touch of her own hand, sore and swollen behind the thin fabric of her black underwear. 

“She’s not… coming out yet… but she’s definitely right there.” Melissa said with a cracked, rough voice. All the water and spluttering having scratched her throat raw. 

“I— I can’t close my legs anymore, the head is that low…” Delirious from their near-drowning, a quiet laugh escaped Melissa’s lips. “But I think the jumping and ice cold swimming might have scared her from her arrival…” 

As the sounds of the flowing water slowed, Melissa realised they had entered shallower waters and Victor was pulling them towards the bank. The edge was rocky, large boulders creating a bottleneck where the river quietened to a gentle stream. It was still deep and the water almost black in the dark midnight. Her bare feet found the bottom of the riverbed, her shoes for the evening's party long gone, and she tentatively stood upright in the water bracing against a boulder. Victor slumped exhausted against it beside her. 

The movement of her legs and body prompted the sudden arrival of the next contraction. Her hands flew out against the rock as everything squeezed aggressively. “Unnnnghhh— fuck— Victor!” 

Words failed her as the baby shifted, pressing urgently downwards and drawing a grunting sound from her throat. The instinct to squat… to open… returned with a vengeance and her knees trembled slowly bending. Dipping down into the icy water all she could manage to say was “—pressure—!” 

“Mel, Mel we’re so close.” He said, lifting himself to try and discourage her from pushing. “Just keep her in a little bit longer, please.” He could only see her upper body, the woman whom he’d fallen in love with nearly a year ago. It felt odd, having a reflective moment here and now. This independent free spirit that had struck him as a nuisance on their first meeting, now actively laboring with their child. And here he was telling her not to.

With the stream being more of a gentle rush rather than its frantic roar, everything could be heard better, and much to his dismay, the groaning Melissa had been trying to suppress for so long echoed throughout the small gorge, flying in all directions to give them away. Hand on his stomach, he looked for something, anything that could help them. Reflected by the moon on the slow moving water, he spotted it. Decades of erosion ate away at the banks of the river, leaving spots sporadically where one might be able to hide outside of the forest's view.

“Ok j-just breathe.” Victor got behind her, pressing the heel of his hand into her lower back and massaging. It’d relieved some discomfort in the late months of her pregnancy, perhaps it could do some good here as well.

Automatically her hips jutted backwards against his firm hand, an instinctual shift to get counter pressure. With a shaky inhale Melissa focused on his words and his hands, releasing her breath as slow as she could manage. 

“Hooooo— ohhhh I really want to push V-Vic—” her words a quiet whimper amongst her moaned breathing. It felt like the baby’s head was rammed against her bones, urgent and insistent. With wet palms slapping against the rock she growled through the peak and very nearly gave into her body’s instincts. 

His hands stayed strong on her hips, squeezing and moving in tandem, as she shifted her weight side to side in the water. “I… don’t know if I can…hold back the urges much…longer…” Melissa admitted quietly. Not daring to let go from where she was braced against the rock. 

“Ok.” He soothed. She was in pain, his only love was suffering. Victor took a look around again. There was no sign of the man, maybe they could rest, if only for a minute of two. “Melissa this is what I want you to do. Little pushes, j-just enough to ease the pressure.” Victor had no idea if that was how it worked or not, but he had to try. “I’ll help you walk, over there.” He nodded to the alcove.

They waited, five seconds, ten, thirty, when Melissa finally took a step it was unsteady, and Victor, despite his own pain, had to support her. Downstream the river was running crimson, his makeshift bandage had dislodged when they rushed down river. Victor didn’t care, his eyes were on Melissa. Her legs couldn’t get closer than shoulder width anymore. Was that the pain? Or was their daughter lodged so deep in her hips that it made it impossible? They stopped again, a little over halfway there.

“Do you need me to check again?” He asked, pressing a little harder into her lower back.

Melissa hummed her answer, nodding vehemently. Wading down the rivers edge would be difficult enough in this darkness even without a baby lodged between her hips. Every step felt like it could shift the baby that final inch right into position that would have her uncontrollably bearing down.

She grit her teeth, bending over slightly to brace her own thighs and would have bobbed under the surface if it weren’t for Victor’s arm around her waist keeping her upright. All logical thinking went out the window as the pressure thumped steadily downwards, contraction or not, it was always there reminding her of what needed to happen. Melissa barely registered the blood seeping more and more from Victor’s wounds, couldn’t think of anything bar the primal urges screaming through body. 

“P-p-please check me— oh god— I really wanna push— I need to p—” Her legs twitched beneath the water, a growl of failed restraint echoing from her lungs, finally bearing down with the urge. 

Victor acted fast, his arms going under hers to prevent Melissa from sinking deeper into a squat as her body finally got a little of what it wanted. Far too exposed in their current position, Victor practically forced Melissa’s legs to follow along with her body as he worked to guide her on. The fabric clinging to her belly shifted with each movement, and if it weren’t for the elements around them, he felt it would probably be a relief if he’d just tear all the restricting clothes off of her. However, that restriction was partially what was helping them delay their daughter's imminent arrival.

After her contraction ended, Melissa was paler than before. Resistance to her natural needs was taxing her to the point of what Victor thought was dangerous. Finally in the little nook, he leaned her against the vertical bank. Just as before, he knelt, wincing audibly as he tried to resist his own pain while simultaneously fighting her dress for access. The river water was murky and laced with grime, much of which was now caking the couple. Her thighs were dirty and scratched, and Victor found himself regretting making her jump.

“You’re doing so good.” He said, and Melissa had to take a moment to see that he was talking to both of them, mother, and daughter. With speed only mustered from panic and will, he pulled down her panty hose again as pushed her black panties off to the side. Just two fingers, he slid in. Barely past his second knuckle, he felt it. A tiny, solid mass, rounded with what he could only assume was a full head of hair.

“Shit…” He muttered. “Shit shit shit.” That was what? Three inches? Maybe four? The baby was so close to coming that renewed panic filled his mind. “She’s right there.” Victor said, rubbing Melissa’s thigh. “Only a few inches. Can, can you just, push her out real quick?” His cluelessness as to how birth worked remained his greatest shortfall. Not knowing that Melissa would have to fight with her body for every centimeter.

The laughter that came from her mouth was predominantly delirium. “I thought… we were trying to keep her in…?” Melissa said, leaning back against the riverbank and feeling the mud and roots on her spine. 

The water levels had lessened significantly at this point in the river, but that meant gravity was pulling harder on all her muscles. Including the weight of the baby wedged in her pelvis and forcing her legs apart. “As— much as I want— to give birth— oooooh— I don’t think a crying baby is going to keep us hidden from that mad bastard.” 

The reality of what Victor had said took a few moments to catch up with her brain. “What did you… did you say you could feel her? Our daughter?” The crack of emotion was clear in her voice just as much as it was mirrored in Victor’s eyes. Their daughter… she was almost here. “What are we gonna do?… I don’t think I can hold back from pushing anymore… I definitely pushed a little just now.” 

The urgency of the situation got stronger with every contraction. The weight she carried, lower and lower in her hips was only going to end one way. Her hands were wet and muddied as she rubbed the swell of her belly, silently wishing her daughter to slow down. Melissa grimaced and shifted in the water, her tights pulling harsh around her thighs from where Victor had pulled them down. 

“Ugh…. Just rip them off… they keep catching on everything and it feels like they are cutting me in half…” she asked with a frustrated huff, gesturing to the pantyhose littered with holes. 

It was an easy enough request. Getting a good grip on one of the tears closest to her belly, he pulled apart. Fabric separated with the ease of paper. Within seconds, Melissa was left with her legs fully exposed to the elements, not that the tights had done much to deter them in the first place. Anger and anguish in equal measure bubbled as her bare legs and thighs were finally revealed. She was covered in bruises and little cuts. What he’d thought was mostly mud was in fact the woman he loved getting all sorts of scars.

“That better?” He asked, tossing the ruined tights into the river. Victor rose to his feet, one hand resting on the bank for support, the other pressing firmly into his side. “We can’t stay here long Mel.” He hissed. Victors eyes expressed the pain he was feeling yet refused to voice. “I need to get you somewhere that you can deliver, a road, a cave, fuck I’d take some hollowed out tree. So long as it’s warm and dry.” Both were pipe dreams, Victor was kidding himself about all of this. Every second out here, exposed and in the open, was a greater risk he’d lose the only two lives that he cared about. “But, you’re right. She can’t come yet, it’ll give us away and risk her even more. So, try to not push. Maybe one little one here and there, but we have to protect her. She’s safest inside you…” Forcing a smile, he got his weight under himself, taking away the supporting hand to put it in her bump.

Her heart melted as he touched her rounded belly so affectionately. So often Victor was forced to show little to no emotion or affection towards Melissa and their baby, in order to keep up pretences and keep their relationship a secret. Each time they were granted that intimacy and excitement of impending parenthood it took her breath away. 

 “To keep her safe.” She repeated, nodding gently. Her fingers laced with his, both pairs cut and scratched and dirty. Together the parents-to-be were determined to survive. For their daughter. 

They continued down stream, following the bank until the ledge was low enough for the pair of them to get out. Victor continued to wince and hiss as he moved but never said a word. Too focused on protecting Melissa. Usually she would say something, force him to take care of himself, but the contractions were so close together now she barely had any energy to speak let alone worry about Victor. She needed him, had to trust him to get them all through this. 

Before climbing out of the river, Victor checked the area as far as the moonlight allowed, fearing their kidnapper had somehow reached this far through the forest. Melissa rode out another contraction at the edge of the water, practically bent over a boulder and grunting tiny pushes. The pressure was too great to ignore the call of her body and pushing provided blissful seconds of relief. As if her instincts were celebrating she was doing what was needed. But she tried to keep them small, tried to clench her thighs as much as she could, not wanting her daughter to be born until it was safe. 

In the short break between contractions Melissa somehow managed to crawl up the riverbank onto land, Victor helping her despite his injuries. She collapsed onto all fours on the grass, groaning with another contraction that happened less than a minute after the last. 

“Mel? Mel!?” Victor was beside her in an instant. “Breathe, breathe. Little pushes.” Inwardly he was cursing. These damned contractions were too close, how in the Hell would they make any progress if she was forced to the ground every other minute? He thought about carrying her, it wouldn’t be much faster, but perhaps… 

As if his own body was telling him that this was in fact not possible, he coughed, once, twice, a fit overtaking him. Hacking into the crook of his arm, the fit subsided and he managed a wheezing breath. This wasn’t good. Pulling away, he saw specks of crimson where he’d been coughing. Pushing aside his own welfare, he racked his brain for ideas. Carrying wasn’t going to happen. All they had was hope, hope that the bastard would give up, or never find them.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered into her hair, hugging her close. “I’m going to get you on your feet, then we need to get going.” Not too far ahead, the forest grew thick with undergrowth. Maybe a rest, somewhere hidden. He was so tired himself, and everything in him told him to lie down. 

On all fours and panting heavily, Melissa nodded in understanding. The tight black dress she had chosen for the party was now soaked, ripped, and had ridden up to her hips. Her knees were cut and scratched, blood and mud smeared across her body. She shivered as the contraction ended, her damp skin prickling in the night air. 

“She— feels closer—” Melissa said to the ground as she tried to catch her breath. “I— can’t stop— the pushing— I’m trying- to only do little ones but— oh Victor….” 

The pressure between her thighs had mounted, the position of all fours opening up her pelvis fully, feeling like something had definitely shifted. Her hands clawed at the grass as she panted through the new sensation, soil gathering beneath her fingernails. 

He removed his grip for a moment. Melissa’s belly was mere inches from the grass, and each contraction shrank it. The frame of reference let Victor see just how much her body was fighting her. Their daughter wanted out, and her body agreed. Impending danger to them all was the one and only reason he wasn’t stripping her clothing off to help deliver their little future. Victor watched in awe as Melissa shifted her weight back, the fabric of her dress coming up to reveal her panties waistline. 

That, was when his heart dropped.

Between her thighs, under the black lace panties that only hours ago he’d helped her pick with the intention of taking them off later for both of their enjoyments, had a noticeable bulge. Her crotch pressed out, rounded, yet still her lips remained together. She was there, she was right there. How could he ask Melissa to move when their daughter was so close? Victor centered himself, taking in a painful breath before he spoke to her.

“Baby, we still have a little time.” It wasn’t a lie, but it was far from the truth. Victor had no clue how long it’d take for her to go from this to holding her baby. “She’s close, b-but she’s not showing yet.” He glanced again, seeing that she wasn’t receding, but more importantly she wasn’t actively progressing.

Melissa moaned with gratitude, hearing that the baby wasn’t showing yet. Every cell in her body, specifically between her legs, was telling her their baby was coming out. But Victor said they had time. They needed time. 

“Okay— ooohh—okay that’s a g-good thing— we should— move before the next contraction hits…” she said heavily, sinking backwards to rest on the backs of her heels, rubbing her belly unconsciously. 

It took more effort than expected - for both Melissa and Victor - to get back to their feet. Victor was ghostly pale and unsteady on his feet, struggling to aid Melissa to stand who couldn’t straighten fully and stayed hunched over and bow-legged. Gravity made everything feel so heavy, the impending weight pressing right against her labia inside her panties. Melissa’s hand shot between her legs, feeling like the baby was about to fall out of her body. 

“Ohhhh… she’s right here, she’s really right there….” She gasped, feeling the change in her own anatomy from the impending baby. Panting heavily Melissa pushed upwards automatically, pressing against herself to give counter pressure against the urgency of childbirth. She kept her hand firmly on her crotch as they made the uncertain journey into the woods, hoping to find anywhere safe… anywhere they could rest while hiding from the armed grievous kidnapper. 

Victor quickly became accustomed to the different sounds Melissa made. Winces and grunts, little cries of pain all from the different issues she was subjected to. The quick, abrupt hisses most often came when her bare feet found a sharp twig or jagged rock. The lower, almost guttural moans and grunts most assuredly were the result of their impatient daughter. Every minute, almost to the point he could perfectly time it, he watched Melissa tense her arm and press firmly into her crotch. 

Trying to gain his bearings was hopeless at this point. Victors blood loss was so severe that he appeared as a specter in the woods rather than a man. Steps became dragging attempts of progression, and soon the effort to even hold his own side was too much. Vision blurring, he felt Melissa brush against him, whether in an attempt of comfort or simply because she was too distracted by her own pain, he didn’t know. He blinked, slow, lazily. Each time his eyelids grew heavier. 

“Mel—“ He rasped, and suddenly he felt cold on his knees. Victor looked down, he was kneeling, he hadn’t done that on… Victor collapsed fully, eyes staring up into the moonlit sky.

“Oh my god—!” Melissa watched in horror as he hit the ground looking ghostly white, his eyes swirling unfocused. She dropped to her knees in an instant, both her hands flying to his chest. “No no no…. Victor…. Stay with me…” 

Seeing the man she loved - her bodyguard, her protector, her soul mate - on the verge of unconsciousness and weak from blood loss made her heart stop. His chiselled perfect face was almost lifeless, blood staining his lips. The injuries he’d sustained must have been so much worse than he was letting on. She scrambled across his torso trying to locate the wound in a desperate attempt to try and stop the bleeding. 

“P-please— please Victor— you have to get up— we have to keep g-going—” Melissa’s words were breathy and panicked, her palms pressing into the hole in his stomach against the tacky congealed blood on his shirt. 

Victor looked right past her, his eyes unable to find exactly where the woman he loved was. He could hear her though, that sweet, gentle loving voice. For the first time in what felt like hours, he was numb, all the pain in his belly was gone, he felt oddly at peace. But, there was Melissa, and their baby girl. Weakly, Victor raised a hand to cup her cheek, using a thumb to wipe away the tears. Was this how it ended? Was Victor going to die unable to save her? Their daughter?

“Just, resting…” He said, the blood pumping in his ears preventing the bodyguard hearing what she said. “R-resting…” Another painfully slow blink, he tried to find their daughter, how old was she now? Three? No, four. He blinked again, finding that it wasn’t just Melissa kneeling beside him. A little redheaded girl, with brighter blue eyes and a smile to melt the world. “Hey kiddo…” He said, reaching out towards their girl.

In the realm of reality, Melissa had to watch as Victor reached for someone who wasn’t there, for, for their daughter? The daughter who, now that her mother was too distracted with her fathers condition, was taking her chance to escape.

Pushing! Without awareness or conscious thought, Melissa’s knees had spread across the muddy grass and suddenly she was pushing. 

Her hands were still pressed into Victor’s abdomen while her womb squeezed and she grunted involuntarily. But Victor was dying. Pale and weak, hallucinating and barely conscious, the father of her child was prone on the forest floor. 

The child surged downwards, desperate to be born. “Nnnnnghh—no no no—!!” The head was right against her lips, bulging obscenely behind her skin, and she growled at the overwhelming all consuming pressure. They weren’t going to make it… there was no way out of this. Victor was dying and this baby was coming. Any hope she had left disappeared faster than the river’s current and finally, she succumbed, giving herself fully to the inevitable.  

Her bloodied hands slipped from his torso and grabbed his arm, a vice-like grip with nails clawing, and Melissa gave an almighty intentional push. Bearing down she felt every single millimetre as the head slowly began to part her folds, the sounds of her roaring effort echoing loudly through the forest. 

Victor's hallucination changed. Their daughter looked at her mother. He did the same, but instead of seeing the vibrant and happy woman of his dreams, she was dirty, crying, her teeth clenched as she strained. A stinging in his arm forced his tired eyes down, her nails were digging into him, why? The forest, it was dark, their baby gone, and all that remained in its place was Melissa giving in to her body to release the primal cry as agony gripped her womb to expel their baby.

“M-Mel?” He sounded weak, yet coherent. Victor grabbed her arm with his free hand. “Breathe, breathe…” Even on deaths door, even with the reaper at his back looking to take him away, his concern was for her and their baby. 

Unbeknownst to them both, only half a mile away, someone else heard Melissa’s cries, and started his trek to claim the woman and her soon to be born baby all for himself.

Victor with resounding pain and effort propped himself on an elbow to pull her close. “It’s ok, it’s ok.”

“Nnnnnghh-!!!! Pushing—Victor— I’m pushing—” Melissa grunted incoherently through her body’s primal action. It felt like there was no stopping it now; the contraction was drawing everything in and down, her belly tight and small while her legs were wide and spread. 

The salty tears rolled down her face into her mouth that was baring her teeth with each strain of her body. The baby wanted to be born, starting to open Melissa’s body, eager to meet her parents. As Victor spoke and eventually moved to sit up slightly, her heart leapt with hope but she couldn’t speak while the contraction still held her hostage. Her nails dug crescent moons into his skin, clinging onto him any way she could through the uncontrollable pushes. 

Then she slumped forward, panting heavily as the contraction waned and after a few gulps of air she could look up to his ashen face. “Oh Vic…. You’re hurt so badly…. I thought I was going to lose you…” She released her grip on his arm to gently cup the cool skin of his cheek. “We need to get you to a hospital… we both need a hospital.” 

Melissa stated the obvious. But looking around they had no clue where they were or how to get to civilisation. “C-can you move-?” She dared to ask, uncertain if she could even move at this point, with the baby peeking between her sensitive folds inside her underwear. “We need to move… we have to go…somewhere….anywhere…safer than out in the open like this…” 

Victor looked around, he felt so weak, and even the thought of movement seemed impossible. He put all his weight on his hands to push up, but all he received for his troubles was a flash of white and excruciating pain. His breathing was steady, wheezing with every inhale. Victor hated that he knew exactly what that noise was, and likely what it had came from . Just his luck, that the jump into the water was probably going to kill him faster that the hole in his stomach.

“Tree…” He said. With Melissa’s help, as much as she could at least, both of them got a few feet towards a tree trunk. Victor rested against it, eyes only focusing when he managed to look into Melissa’s. He smiled, that sad, knowing smile when he knew something she didn’t. “I don’t know if I’m going to get much further, baby.” He said. Slow, painful movements, and he lifted his shirt. The hole from the bullet was there, but up above it, his side was nearly black with bruising. 

“I— only have— one working lung, I, think…” Tears fell down his cheeks. “She won’t— wait for her— d-dad to catch his breath.” He pressed his hand into the underside of her belly. “I d-don’t see— how we— all three get..” He coughed, blood and phlegm on his lips. “Out of here.”

On seeing the full extent of her partner’s injuries Melissa felt her stomach roll with nausea. The deathly black tinge to his ribs that faded into the smears of blood across his abdomen. She’d never seen someone so hurt, so battered and broken as Victor looked right now. The tears falling from his eyes was enough of a sign of how much pain he was in. 

“Shhh… it’s okay… we’ll make it through this. We all will make it out of here.” Melissa softly whispered, running her fingers over the stubble on his cheeks. “I’m not doing this without you. Our daughter will just have to wait a little l-longer….” 

A blind confidence washed over the labouring woman. In the absence of his usual unwavering strength Melissa became determined and tried to take charge for the both of them. “We will rest here for a bit… let you… oooohh.. catch your breath and then we can-uhhh— move again” 

She knelt beside him, his chest rising and falling even faster than her own as he tried desperately to breath. But as her belly tensed again with a contraction she leant over his body, pressing a hand into the tree trunk behind him so she could brace against it as her body worked through the intense wave squeezing through her core. The intensity had her panting as she focused on Victor’s face right in front of her, determined not to push… to hold on for the father of this child. As she bit back a groan of resistance, they heard it— 

“Come out, come out wherever you are!!” A chilling voice in the distance echoed through the trees and it turned her blood to ice. 

That grating voice, and the look on Melissa’s face told him everything he needed to know. There was no way for him to get rest, not here, not now. The struggle was only exasperated for his laboring lover with the added stress of the man who had been hunting them for what felt like hours. An expression, he read it on Melissa before she could even warn him. A spike of adrenaline, born out of fear for her and their daughters lives, he moved.

It was excruciating, but he managed it. Victor flipped Melissa around so her back was on his chest, and her rear on his lap. Just as quickly, he put his hand over her mouth to staunch the oncoming noise he knew she wouldn’t be able to hold. Fearful that she’d give in, and that their frightened screams would also alert the kidnapper, he put his hand between her legs, cupping the baby’s head. Boots crunched close by, and his grip tightened.

“You know…” The man called, his voice only on the other side of the hedges they currently hid behind. “I think I knows what got ya try’n so hard t’ escape!” The couple listened to some fabric scratching. “Foun’ this here in your body boys jacket! Suuuure is a purdy ring! I’ll still let ya wear it, s’long as ya get on out here, AND STOP FUCKING HIDING FROM ME!” He fired the shotgun, and Victor tensed. 

“Shhh.” He whispered into her ear.

For a brief second she panicked when Victor’s muddy palm went across her mouth, but she soon realised his intentions and she panted through her nostrils as her body continued its attack. Her legs were twisted awkwardly in the rapid movement onto his lap, partially bent, partially entwined with his. As the pressure of the head against her opening increased Melissa found her hips tilting backwards automatically. 

It was urgent and insistent and she simply could not stop Mother Nature. The second Victor cupped her bulging crotch, providing blissful counter pressure, she bared her teeth behind his hand as she pushed uncontrollably. It didn’t matter that the sounds of twigs snapping or muttered ramblings were getting closer and closer, or the gunshot that rang through the empty forest, every cell in her body was focused downwards between her legs. Bearing down hard with the primal demands of nature, her body trembled with automatic effort. Mercifully Victor matched every push, keeping his palm secure over her underwear, preventing their daughter's progress and stopping any more of the head peeking through her sensitive labia. 

A low grunting sound rumbled from deep in her chest and Melissa clamped her mouth shut trying to contain any sound from escaping past her mouth or Victor’s hand. 

“Come on sweetheart…” the Boss’s smirking voice leered from behind a nearby tree. “You can’t hide from me forever. That bastard in your belly wants out any moment. Show me how close that nipper is to sliding out your—” 

A thud followed by cursing told Victor and Melissa their assailant had tripped and stumbled in the low-lit woods. 

This was their best chance, an opportunity to flee while he was distracted by his own clumsiness. But, Victor couldn’t get his legs to move, and Melissa was still tense, the contraction lasting an eternity. The baby was fighting both him and her mother, wanting release into the world, thirty-nine weeks of waiting to meet her parents. She definitely had her mothers patience.

“Don’t make a sound.” He breathed, so quiet even he could barely hear it. He released her crotch for but a moment, warmth coating his palm from the expelling amniotic fluid. Victor grabbed a rock, and with what strength he had left, he threw it off to their right. Luck was on their side, because they heard a crack as it landed on a branch, followed by a series of thuds as it rolled through the underbrush. Their pursuer heard it too, perhaps assuming they’d grown desperate enough to try and run. 

“Got you now girly.” He growled, Melissa could perfectly visualize the predatory smile he would be wearing. “That lil bastards mine!” He shuffled off. 

Even in his state, Victor made an important note in his head. Four shells have been fired, and the pump action he used only carried six. If he had no more ammo, they might have a chance after all. There was something else too, an odd hair in his run. He was limping, perhaps that trip had hurt him. The bodyguard was pulled from his observations by Melissa shaking, she was pushing again, and as much as he hated himself for it, he pressed his palm into her once again to halt process. The little luck they’d found couldn’t be ruined by their daughter's cries.

“It’s ok, it’s ok…”

Still awkwardly sitting on Victor’s lap, she grabbed the backs of her knees in desperation and pulled them up either side of her belly as she pushed hard. The brief moment he had let go to throw the stone had been all her body needed and the baby had slipped further… an oval shape bulging inside of her ruined underwear.  

“Nnnnngh— she’s coming—out—” Melissa rasped her warning between the unstoppable rounds of pushing. 

But Victor knew, he could feel the progress that had already been made when his hand clamped over her once more. The contraction was never ending… that insane overwhelming need to deliver this child was affecting her mind. The pressure and stretching around the head made her forget about the danger, not caring even. All that mattered was her primal desire to bear down and deliver this baby. 

And so with every crest of the contraction Melissa pushed against his hand, over and over, but his palm never wavered, never granted any extra room. When the contraction finally gave up she slumped back against his bloodied and bruised chest, her own rising and falling dramatically as she tried to catch her breath. 

“…have…to…give…birth…” she whispered, barely able to turn her face up to see his expression, his hand still firm between her legs while the other rubbed her swollen middle soothingly. “P-please… I have to get her out…” 

“Melissa, listen to me.” His voice was calm, almost as if he was in too much pain to panic. “If you give birth here, now, your noise, and her cries, will get him here.” Victor made wide circles on her belly, praying that it could calm their daughter. “He will kill me, and I don’t want to think of what he would do to you and our girl.” Victor felt her womb sieze again, and this time instead of just holding the near crowning head in place, he pushed their daughter back in ever so slightly.

An idea came to mind, a horrible, painful one, but one that would at least buy the couple a little time.

“I still have my belt.” He told her. “Baby, we have to stop her from coming. It’s the only way. I can barely walk, and keeping my hand between your legs isn’t an option.” Logistics ran through his mind, and he debated how best to do what he planned. “It’s long enough to make a figure eight between your legs, and I’ll rest it above your hips.” Without realizing what he was doing, his thumb began to stroke their daughters head as if in apology. “It will only be till you’re safe. But you can’t give birth here or this family won’t exist.”

Melissa began to sob, writhing in his lap against his firm hand that was sending shooting pain up through her pelvis and spine. The logic was clear, but that part of her mind had long been shut off and only instinct prevailed. 

“But— it h-hurts— so much—” her voice cracked through the hitch of her crying. “I— can’t stay like this— I have to push—”

Melissa’s silence confirmed that she was once more bearing down, her efforts moving the baby back down and undoing Victor’s attempt to give them more time.  He let her push again, understanding she couldn’t stop it but kept his hand firm between her legs as she gave into the urge. When it was over and Melissa was resting between pushes, she heard the clink of metal behind her back and felt Victor moving her down his lap. 

Exhaustion was sweeping over the labouring mother between contractions, her eyes barely focusing. She didn’t see him wrap the belt around her legs, barely felt the leather against her scratched and bruised thighs that felt numb in comparison to the burning at her crotch. It was only when Victor removed his hand and the counter pressure was replaced by something else that her eyes flew wide open. 

“No… oh no Victor please…” the panic poured with each quiet word as her hands went to the contraption now entwined around her hips. But as she moved, the taut unforgiving belt held everything steady and in place… a perfect amount of pressure against her screaming hips, but most importantly against the sliver of the head now resting in the damp gusset of her panties. The baby would certainly not get out now, which meant they had more precious time. 

“Shhh shhh shh… I promise, it’s only till we are safe. We can’t have a screaming baby here Mel. Not yet.” His hand now free, he stroked her hair in the way he had months ago when she’d broken down about the pregnancy. Nothing in his world was more important that the two women next to him, and if he had to cause her a little pain to protect them both, then he was willing to hate himself for it.

They didn’t wait long. During her next contraction and session of pushing, the belt proved to be more than enough to prevent any sort of progress. It’s only major downside in the meantime was forcing her legs closer and restricting that movement. He got up first, nursing his side all the while keeping an eye out for their pursuer. He was nowhere to be seen. Once vertical, Victor leant down, grabbing under Melissa’s arms. 

“I’m going to lift. I need your help to get you up Mel.” The tears in her eyes broke his heart, and it hurt even more that he could do nothing for that right now. “We have to be utterly silent, baby.” Again, that spike of adrenaline from her being in danger was falling. He knew well enough that such a boost was impossible to have again, it was a miracle it had happened twice. If they didn’t get out before he crashed, they were all dead.

“One, two, three!” Victor pulled.

Rising to her feet a silent scream had her mouth wide open and eyes screwed shut. Her entire body was trembling and she clung to Victor like a lifeline, fingers hooked over his broad shoulders. The next contraction pulled her weight back towards the floor leaving her almost half-squatting, belly hanging between her parted thighs and her face pressed against his clavicle. 

Melissa didn’t dare try and speak for fear of what sound would come out instead. Every muscle was squeezing and bearing down against the belt tight between her legs, her efforts moving the head only a fraction before it met the leather strap blocking the exit. The contractions were near constant and it was an effort to stand let alone move anywhere. 

But deep down she knew they must. A lunatic was out there somewhere, armed and focused entirely on Melissa and her baby. That baby was safe while she stayed nestled inside her body. Their daughter couldn’t come out yet. With gritted teeth Melissa managed to get some semblance of control over her body and with shaking knees she straightened up. Nodding against her lover’s embrace, she silently told him she was okay to move.  

Speed was an impossibility. Victor held onto Melissa, the pair breathing heavily. Even not knowing where they were, Victor knew where not to go, and that was the same direction as the kidnapper. Victor knew pain, he felt it now, but it was nothing compared to what he imagined Melissa was suffering through. Every minute or so, she’d slow, her belly shrinking and her legs naturally attempting to spread wider. It wouldn’t work, there was no way she could break that belt. At one point she’d nearly fallen, only held up by all the reserves of strength he had. The pressure within her body had to be intense, because with their daughters exit blocked, more amniotic fluid came instead.

Ten minutes, that was all either of them managed before Victor was too tired to keep her upright. It was forewarned by a single stumble, his hand planting on a tree. Eyes unfocused, he squinted off into the woods.

“What’s that…” He said, trying to get a better look.

Melissa was in the midst of a forceful contraction, bearing down fruitlessly with all the strength her body demanded in its hopeless attempt. Left gasping, she cradled her belly with soothing motions and followed the direction of Victor’s gaze. 

The pain was blinding them both, but it looked like a man made shape; square, with a triangular top, hidden in the distance within a thinning patch of woodland. 

“Is… is that a c-cabin-?” She whispered with laboured breaths, not trusting her own eyes. But when Victor squinted and nodded, the tiny dying ember of hope inside her glowed just a little. 

With heavy cumbersome steps they moved through the forest keeping one eye on the large shadow of the cabin, afraid it would disappear like a mirage. But each step they took only brought more of the building into view. Wooden and very clearly abandoned from the decay and rot of the outside slats. There was a narrow porch along the front with two murky windows and an olive green door. 

“It is…” Victor said, disbelief in his voice. Of all the things he’d expected to find out here, a hunting cabin, albeit an abandoned one, was a godsend. “Holy shit… it is.” He found himself smiling at her. 

With renewed hope, the couple limped their way to the cabin, the support they provided one another blending into an inspiring urgency to reach their destination. The steps up were difficult, with Victor having to hold Melissa’s waist as her restricted movement caused issues. He followed, palm still pressed to his side. The wheezing of his breaths was far worse now, but that did nothing to dampen the hope in his eyes. Muttering a prayer, Victor reached for the handle. It was unlocked!

“Inside.” He said, gently guiding her in.

The moonlight cast shadows across the room, its dirty windows only allowing a fraction of the light to enter. The cabin was minimalist, as one would expect of a hunting abode. A cot laid in the corner, lot blankets that reeked of mildew crumbled at the foot. A wood stove in the opposite corner with a small smoke stack stretching to the ceiling. There was also a table with a seat, and some boxes strewn here and there. Victor couldn’t have cared less. This place was warm, and it was dry.

Melissa staggered on unsteady legs into the dark abandoned room and practically slapped her palms against the table as she bore down yet again. The black fabric of her dress was hitched and gathered at her hips and caught up in the belt that wrapped tight between her thighs. The movements of her body were completely involuntarily; hips jutting backwards and circling ever so slightly in a desperate attempt to move the baby out of its current position where it filled the birth canal completely. Primal sounds of effort echoed in the empty cabin as she struggled to give birth with the leather holding her hostage. 

When the contraction let her go she slumped over the table, too nervous at the idea of sitting on the hard wooden chair and not wanting to go anywhere near the bed that smelt of damp and mildew. Bending at the waist Melissa folded her arms on the table, opening her hips as much as she was able, and rested her head exhaustedly into the crook of her elbow. 

“V-Victor…. I can’t do this… much longer… I can’t cope….” Her words were thick with defeat and exhaustion and pain. 

His body called this place safe, but his mind refused to believe that. Victor nearly hit the ground as he tried to sit, only catching himself on the table at the last second. Finding that he saw two separate chairs, he decided against it. In their current condition there was no way Melissa could get him up. 

“Not, long.” He told her, trying and failing to be reassuring. Melissa needed the bed, but there was no telling what was growing on it. He needed bandaging for his stomach, the bleeding was slow, but only because he thoroughly believed he was running out. The rear wall was decorated with what appeared to be an old pelt. Not clean, but far from the disgusting green on the mattress. He moved, forcing himself to ignore Melissa’s noises. He couldn’t be distracted, not yet. Once the bed had a covering he would get her onto it, undo the belt, and they’d have a baby. It was so simple.

The pelt was huge, a bear by his best guess. He tore it down, the old rusted nails tearing through the old leather. Melissa watched him shuffle painfully to the bed, putting it over everything. It would have to do. Next, he started to rummage. The multiple boxes had an assortment of supplies, all of which were long past their expiration dates. One though, was a red metal tin. A first aid kit.

“Nnnnngh—Victor—get this off me—!” Melissa groaned, holding herself up on the table by one elbow while her hands scrambled at the leather between her legs trying to find the buckle. She couldn’t see in the dark, nor over her swollen belly that hung low and obscured her vision. 

Every nerve in her body was trembling and desperate. As her hands brushed her cut and bruised inner thighs she grunted and pushed again, the head was right fucking there, so close and yet trapped behind the leather contraption. 

Her sounds got louder the more desperate she became. “I— need to have this baby— get it out— get it outta of me—” Though they were inside a wooden cabin it would certainly not contain the noises of a birthing mother and Victor hobbled to her side to try and calm and quiet her down.  

“Fuck. I know it hurts but Mel you have to be quiet.” He hissed. Injuries would wait. He had to help her first. He tried to rig her dress higher to reach the buckle. Where had he put it? It, it wasn’t… Victor violently shook his head to try and force his eyes to work. Too loud, she was too loud! Victor found the buckle, just beneath her left buttock. His fingers wouldn’t work, the blood loss causing motor function to fade. And there was no way she could reach it. 

“Well…” A voice said from the doorway. “If I was an insecure man, I’d say you were trying to have your way with my woman…” Victor turned, only to see the kidnapper standing there, shotgun aimed squarely at his chest. “That’s my little bastard in there body boy. Not yours.” 

He didn’t know why, but Victor tried to throw himself at the man. Was it a vain hope? Some poorly judged attempt at saving Melissa? It didn’t matter in the end. The stock hit Victor squarely in the temple, knocking him to the ground. He was out before he hit the wood.

“Now… my dear… how’s my bastard?” He moved closer to where Melissa was, sticking a hand between her thighs. When he found the belt, he frowned. “You naughty girl… that’s why they aren’t here.”

A fierce maternal instinct had Melissa shoving her elbows back hard, protecting herself and the baby against the vile man who had pressed up behind her bent position over the table. 

In the brief moment the Boss stumbled backwards Melissa tried to make a run for it. With the belt around her thighs and a baby wedged deep in her pelvis she didn’t get far before the man had grabbed her and threw her down onto the pelt-covered bed. 

Melissa cried out in pain as her backside and hips collided with the uneven mattress, sending shockwaves of agony from her pelvis all the way up her spine. “Wh—why are y-you doing t-this—?” She panted, tears and fear reflecting in her eyes, her hands wrapped around her large womb. 

The man crawled over her body, ragged and wild, his hands sliding up her bruised and bloodied thighs with predatory slowness. “You ruined everything… you were supposed to be a good little hostage until your daddy gave in to our demands. Now my men are all dead… but this baby—” His rough hand cupped the bulge between her legs and made a sickening noise of enjoyment. “This baby that’s oh so desperate to come out…. Will be my consolation prize.” 

With the glee of a hyena catching a baby antelope, he took a fistful of her dress and yanked, tearing it as part caught on Victors buckle. Delight filled those eyes, and he sat the shotgun down beside Melissa. To him, she was less than a threat, she was a source of entertainment. Take the baby, and then probably kill the mother. No doubt the senator would pay handsomely for that. Melissa thrashed as he placed his hand on her womb. 

“Be a good girl.” He growled. “And maybe I’ll let you mother a second bastard.” Leaning in closer, he purred. “Go ahead, give in. Beg, and I’ll remove the belt.” 

The hot stench of his breath on her face, combined with the white hot pain between her legs, nearly had Melissa vomiting. As his hand rested possessively on the bare patch of skin showing through the torn fabric of her black dress, her muscles contracted violently and she couldn’t stop herself from pushing. 

His touch was like daggers on her skin, but she was in no condition to fight or push him away. Mother Nature was screaming at her and left her unable to do anything but push. The kidnapped groaned with pleasure as she pushed right in front of him, both his hands splayed across her belly in gleeful fascination as it contorted in on itself, muscles tight and squeezing the baby down. 

“Yes….. ohhh look at you… so full and desperate to birth your bastard babe…” he sneered, almost grinding on her thighs as she beared down uncontrollably. 

Melissa gagged and grunted and pushed, trapped beneath this deranged animal of a man, torn between wanting to birth her baby and keeping her safe in her womb. But the choice was not hers to make. She couldn’t move and there was a strong piece of leather strapped across her crotch, leaving her in a perpetual state of almost-crowning. Her eyes scrunched and tears rolled down her cheeks with each reluctant push, and with the man straddling her swollen body Melissa didn’t see the slow movement happening on the floor of the cabin beside the table. 

Victors eyes opened. The kidnapper was so unhealthily obsessed with Melissa that he’d not even bothered to double check that Victor was dead. He watched Melissa pushing, and the great pleasure the man was receiving in return. He had to get him off of her. 

Rage boiled from deep within, even more so when he saw the little box the kidnapper had removed from his pocket to dangle before her. The ring Victor was planning to propose with. With all his strength, he lunged. 

While Victor was a bigger man in almost all respects, the kidnapper was nowhere near as exhausted as the couple was. It didn’t matter. This fucker was going to die for what he’d done. Victor's forearm wrapped around his neck, the other coming to lock it in place. The bodyguard flexed, his body screaming at him to stop. Caught by surprise, the kidnapper kicked his legs out, throwing them both back to the ground. This was the flaw in Victors improvisation. In a ground game, he was severely outmatched. With the loss of body functions and severe lack of breathing capability, he would run out of strength before he’d knock out the kidnapper. 

“M-Mel!” He called, as if she could help, or maybe he wanted her to run? Melissa was stuck there, watching the father of her child dying all the while trying to kill the man who’d hurt them both. And in all the chaos, their baby girl wanted to come. “Sh-shoot!” His frantic eyes flicked to the gun that was still on the bed, and the one shell he was sure it still housed.

Following his gaze Melissa looked across the bed and saw the gun. But she couldn’t move— couldn’t stop pushing— and the gun lay just out of reach. 

The cracking sound of bones colliding echoed through the cabin and Melissa looked up in time to see the kidnapper slam a punch at Victor’s face, blood spitting from his mouth as his head went back into the floor. Everything was happening so fast, Melissa didn’t know what to do… couldn’t form a single thought. 

She clamped a hand between her thighs, pressing upwards against the emerging baby to allow her legs to close a fraction, to provide counter pressure that might just grant her a few seconds of cohesive thought. With her free hand she rolled onto her side with a groan and grabbed the gun. 

Sitting wide legged on the edge of the bed, both hands now shaking and holding the weapon up, she took aim. In the darkness it was impossible to tell who was who, the men rolling and punching and kicking on the dirty wooden floor. One second Victor came into view, the next it was the madman— what if she got it wrong?! What if she shot the father of her child?? 

The baby kicked, a contraction starting up again, and her body was suddenly bearing down automatically. As the pressure in her groin jumped to astronomical levels her whole body tensed as it gave in to the push…. including her fingers that had been hovering over the trigger.

Since their first meeting, Victor had only taken her shooting once. Even with the proper technique, any attempt to use it was squashed when their daughter forced her mother to push. 

There was a flash of light, followed by the sensation of being kicked in the shoulder by a mule. Such pain was an afterthought thanks to her body’s constant need to push. Her eyes had been shut, the force of the contraction too much for her to keep them open. The gun fell to the ground, and a thud followed soon after. A body, she’d hit someone, Victor? The kidnapper? The darkness made it impossible to tell. All she could hear was her heartbeat, her cries, and the straining of the leather still between her legs.

“V-Vi—“

She heard coughing. And fear swelled.

Backlit by moonlight, someone sat up. Whoever it was moved slowly, dragging themselves across the floor towards the noises she couldn’t stop herself making. It was the kidnapper, she hadn’t killed him, she’d killed Victor! A hand came, gripping hers tightly.

“I, thought. I’d taught you…” Victors voice was hoarse. “Don’t jerk, the trigger.”

Melissa burst into tears. All the fear and pain and exhaustion culminating into one outlet, sobbing with sheer utter relief. “I— I thought I’d— killed you—” 

A cloud moved overhead allowing a beam of moonlight through the murky windows and she could now clearly see the man standing in front of her. This rugged handsome man that had entered her life a year ago; her lover, her partner, the father of her child. 

She gripped his hands, squeezing tight as she croaked his name in disbelief. Her fingers were curled and trembling as they travelled up his bloodied arms like a ladder trying to reach his face. The need to touch him, to feel his heart beating… the need to make sure he was alright… the need to— 

“Nnnnghhh—!” Push! Melissa groaned, her body acting of its own accord, but she didn’t have the strength to aid it anymore. Muscles tensed and contracted, attempting yet again to expel their child but even her body waned in its efforts. Too long had Mother Nature been denied. It was as if her body was giving up, admitting defeat. 

He was there for her in an instant. Weak as they both were, renewed strength was found and harnessed by the hope that maybe, just maybe, they’d both survive. With the man dead, there wasn’t a single fathomable reason to stop their girl being born. 

“Breathe! Breathe it’s ok I’m here, I’m here.” He tried to soothe her, but knew at this point it wouldn’t do much. She had to push, and he had to help her. Pulling one of his hands from her grip, he started to tug at the belt, trying to enforce his willpower on his fingers to comply. No matter how much he wanted to though, blood loss had rendered them near useless. 

When the contraction ended, she was left in agony, their daughter in a nonstop fight with the leather. He could only think of one other way to get them off that was not as dangerous. Melissa would need to stand again.

“Baby, baby listen.” He said, forcing panic out and bringing that authority into his tone to get Melissa to listen through the pain. “Your legs are too wide, I can’t get the belt off.” Victor cupped her cheek, wiping away tears with his thumb. “I’m not going to risk cutting it, not with her so close. So I need you to stand up.”

“I— can’t—” Melissa’s chest heaved with unbridled sobbing. Her bare legs were spread wide over the pelt across the bed, the black fabric of her dress ripped and bunched at her hips, and her spine was barely holding her upright - the only reason she was still sitting was due to her fingers clawing at Victor’s clothing. 

Carefully, he bent forward and hooked his hands under her arms and taking some of her weight he slowly moved her to standing. Both of them were beyond weak, trembling, clinging to each other in desperation to get through the final hurdle. When Melissa’s knees threatened to buckle Victor turned her around quickly and guided her over to brace against the bed. Allowing him access to the belt buckle that was just below her left cheek. 

The instinct to open, to squat, to push was so hard to ignore and she almost yelled when Victor ushered her legs together. Gritting her teeth, Melissa panted as he tried to work at the bloodied fastening which was also covered with amniotic fluid and mud.  

“H-hurry— unghhh—! I— can’t hold it— much longer—” Melissa croaked as the next contraction approached and she dreaded the thought of being stuck like this for a single second longer. And if that contraction struck before the belt came off she feared she’d not be able to withstand another blocked attempt at pushing. 

He knew when a body decided to take over, the mind had no power to stop what nature demanded. Melissa’s knees were shaking as she fought, and it would only be precious moments before they were forced apart yet again in a vain attempt to push a baby through a leather strap. He worked as fast as he could, his heart racing and his breathing weakening to a wheeze. Bloodless fingers fumbled with the buckle, taking too long. Melissa’s legs were spreading.

“Fucker!” Victor growled, angry at his body for failing them both. Unable grab, Victor tried one last desperate gambit. Teeth bared, he bit the leather laced through the buckle, tugging at it. It worked, albeit a bit too well. Leather tightened before it loosened, pinching Melissa’s thigh to the point of bleeding. But that was an afterthought. The belt was undone, and their baby girl had no more restrictions.

“PUSH!”

The sound that came from Melissa was raw and desperate and primal. Legs spreading wide, fingers clawing at the bear pelt, she succumbed to her body’s demands. The baby had been stuck at a partial crown for so long her skin almost felt numb, a coping mechanism to the near-constant burn she’d felt for so long. But as she beared down fully, giving all her remaining strength down between her legs, the head moved and a white hot burning screeched through her senses. 

“Nnnghhh!!— fuck—!” She wheezed between pushes, before her body returned urgently to its task. As if it was fearful the ability to push could be taken away at any minute. 

Victor's hands were holding her hips, thumb affectionately squeezing in encouragement. Knowing he was alive, he was with her, delivering his daughter… It gave her hope and strength. A guttural roar of effort bounced off the dusty cabin walls as the head reached a full crown. 

She was right there…

Medical knowledge notwithstanding, it wasn’t a leap of logic for Victor to discern that the little tuft of red hair caked in amniotic fluid was actually their baby girls head. He’d been right, a little victory that he loved came true. This baby was going to look just like her mom. He smiled widely, though he knew Melissa couldn’t see.

“She's right here baby! Got her momma's hair too!” He said, the excitement in his voice equal to the day she’d told him she was pregnant. “You held back long enough. Let’s get our girl.” Hands squeezed her hips, a silent affirmation. Victor was going nowhere. Nothing could describe how he felt when the baby’s head was crowning. Joy? Terror? Admiration? Perhaps a combination of all three and many many more. Melissa had always been the strongest person he knew in spirit. She proved that tenfold tonight.

“She— she’s got r-red h-hair-??” Melissa laughed through her crying. The juxtaposition of joy in this moment compared to what was happening only five  minutes ago. 

As her body tensed with an automatic push, she growled with effort as she felt the full size of her daughter's head stretch her open beyond words, beyond description. Pure determination and feminine strength had Melissa giving it her all, focusing all her energy on one thing - out! Every cell in her body trembled as the head finally breached its widest point and she wailed in pure relief as the head burst free with a spurt of more fluid. 

“Ohhhh—god— was that… is the head out??” She gasped, croaking a ragged inhale, recovering from the strain. 

It was the head. Hanging down between the thighs of the love of his life, a baby’s scrunched face greeted him. Victor was too amazed and in awe to speak, the words he wished to say dying in his throat. So, he reached out. Melissa felt him let go of her thigh, but before panic could set in that he might have collapsed or passed into unconsciousness, his hand was holding hers. Soaked in the very fluid that had been keeping their daughter suspended, he guided her down between her legs till fingers met flesh that was not her own.

“She’s right here Mel.” Victor said, finding his voice. She could hear the emotion weighted in it, and accurately assumed tears fell as well. “Our baby is almost here.” He looked back between her thighs, ready for the inevitable moment that she would push.

“Oh wow…. Hi baby….” Melissa’s fingers trembled as they touched the slimy surface of their daughter's head. Making first contact with the little life she had been growing for the last nine months. Beneath the pads of her fingertips was a face, a little nose, pouting lips. This moment would be forever ingrained in her memories. 

Then the baby turned, the feeling was unlike anything she’d ever felt. In a brief moment of uncertainty Melissa let go of her daughters head and grabbed the edge of the bed once more, needing something stable to hold on to as her body began to prepare for the next hurdle. 

“Ohhhh… oh this feels weird…. I think… uhhhh…fuck gotta push—again—” she blurted a warning before her hips went back and her knees went down, half squatting in a natural instinctive movement. 

The squeezing of her muscles, the focusing of effort, it was all beyond consciousness. Melissa was simply moving as nature demanded while their daughters shoulders pressed against and then stretched her opening once more. “Nnnnnghh!— she’s coming— she’s coming out!!—” she cried out as a rumbling grunt echoed from deep in her chest.  

Victor could do nothing but watch. Their girl rotated ninety degrees. Melissa’s body was done holding back. He didn’t know how fast this was supposed to go. 

“Oh, oh! Oh!” First a shoulder, then the other, and less than a second later with a splash of her remaining amniotic fluid, a baby was in Victors waiting arms. His eyes were wide, not even hearing Melissa asking if the baby was ok. She was so tiny, so absolutely perfect. The baby was still connected to Melissa through the cord, yet something else that Victor wished he knew what to do about. The world stayed silent, until it broke and a shrill cry of a screaming baby filled the air.

“She’s here!” Victor said, finding his voice. “Mel she’s here!”

It felt like the world had stopped turning. That sound. That precious musical sound filled Melissa’s heart with more love and relief imaginable. Somehow she kept strength in her trembling legs, instead of buckling to the floor she tried to turn around. She wanted to see… she had to see her daughter. But something got caught - the cord. 

Automatically Melissa lifted a leg, blood and fluids pouring down her inner thighs, as she tried to step over the cord. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see them; her partner with the delicate wailing infant in his arms, their daughter. Relying on one leg as she raised the other was evidently too much for Melissa’s poor exhausted body and before she could lift it high enough her legs buckled completely, collapsing down to her knees on the harsh wooden floor. 

“Mel…” Victor said. She needed to hold their baby, he had to see it. “Baby. Try to roll.” The baby was still crying, sensing her parents fear, being scared, or just hungry, he had no clue. Victor leaned forward, letting the umbilical cord reach all the way to the floor. Just a few inches, that’s all. Just a few. A bright light flashed across the window, so fast that Victor was unsure if it was real. Melissa didn’t notice, or just didn’t acknowledge it.

Victor adjusted the baby, holding her in one tired arm, the other trying to lift Melissa’s leg up so she could sit. He felt himself fading, he needed to see it. He needed to see Melissa hold their daughter.

Melissa barely registered anything other than the cries of her baby. Her leg was in the air, was Victor holding it up?.. she didn’t know, didn’t care. Somehow she was sitting on the floor, on the edge of the pelt that draped off of the bed, her arms reaching out towards the tiny little life that was crying. 

Tiny… she was just so tiny. Her fingers were both shaking and secure as she lifted her newborn daughter from Victor's arms and put her immediately to her chest. The tears flowed like rivers down her cheeks as she took her first proper look at the little redheaded baby girl. 

“Shhhh… it’s okay little one… mumma’s here…” The automatic softness of her voice was instinctual as she moved her hands across every inch of the babe, every limb, every finger, every toe. She was perfect. 

With a bright smile through tears of relief and happiness, Melissa looked up at the love of her life,  father of her child, to celebrate the arrival of their daughter. But her smile faded when she saw how ghostly pale he looked, the way he swayed and his eyes rolled. 

“Victor—?” 

More lights flickered at the edge of Victors vision. All the willpower, all the duty of a bodyguard, a lover, and a father, could no longer keep him here. Melissa saw him smiling, even as his eyes lost focus. Victor tried, one last time to reach out, to hold her hand. So much was left unsaid, so many things he wanted for her, for them both. Thoughts fading into nothingness, he thought about the engagement band. Victor collapsed, the last of his life spent handing his baby girl to her mother.

Sounds filled the cabin, though he couldn’t tell what their source was. Shouting, crying, a baby, their baby. It was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.

At the thud of Victor’s body hitting the wooden floor of the cabin, his arm stretched out towards them both, Melissa’s heart shattered and she wailed. The gunshot wound, collapsed lung, the blood loss and the physical brawl with the kidnapper. Her bodyguard had kept her safe and delivered their child but at what cost… 

Melissa didn’t notice the flashes of light from outside the cabin, didn’t hear the noises of trucks or shouts in the distance. She crawled over to Victor’s body, one arm wrapping their baby against her chest, the other desperately seeking his ribcage. To feel a heartbeat, to feel his lungs rising with a breath, anything. 

She was sobbing hysterically over her partner when the doors burst open - a search party sent by her father. Suddenly there were people, so many people, so many voices. But none of them were Victor’s. They had to prise her away from Victor’s body, medic’s appearing from nowhere to examine both Melissa and the baby. She watched as another medical person in uniform knelt beside and worked on Victor. 

“I’ve got a heartbeat!” They yelled. 

Melissa swayed with sheer, utter relief and the medic examining her had to catch her before she slipped to the floor.

“Whoa… easy there Miss.” the young Medic said, holding her steady and guiding her towards a stretcher that someone had brought into the cabin. “He’s in the best hands. We’ll get you all to the hospital, don’t worry. You’re safe.” 

~•~ 

Beeping. Incessant and rhythmic. The first sensation Victor felt was a dull, aching throb in his stomach. He went to sit up, but realized his body wouldn’t allow such a thing. With agonizing slowness, his eyes opened. A white room, one that smelled of disinfectant and the most heinous fake lavender air freshener he could imagine. He blinked again, eyes focusing a little more. Where the Hell was he? Was this a hospital? He tried to speak, finding that his throat was raw from disuse. Logic left as memories flooded. Mel, their daughter, where?! Panic set in, the bodyguards eyes frantically darting side to side, utterly unfocused.

He moved again, a groan coming from his throat, followed by a series of rasping coughs loud enough to wake the slumbering Melissa, who he hadn’t realized was occupying the bed beside him. Nor did he see the little girl dressed in a bright pink onesie in the crib between them.

Hearing a noise Melissa stirred, automatically shhhing as she pushed herself up in bed, assuming her daughter was hungry. “It’s okay little one… hi…. Mummy’s here…”  

But as she blinked herself awake and stared at the sleeping baby, her eyes landed on Victor. Awake. His eyes were open. 

“Oh my gosh… Victor…” She threw the blanket off her bed and ignoring the soreness of her body she slipped out of her bed immediately going to his side. “Victor… you’re awake… you’re okay.” 

Her hands wrapped around one of his, the one without the IV drip, the one she frequently had held while he was unconscious and recovering from surgery. Bending forwards she brushed a kiss to the back of his hand. 

“I’d…. I thought I’d lost you…” her words a fearful whisper against his skin. 

Victor coughed again, trying to moisten his throat to speak. Melissa helped, giving him a small sip of water through a straw. It took a few moments, but he eventually was able to muster the strength.

“Not. That. Easy.” He said, smiling. If Victor was honest, he thought he was dead. The bloodloss, the injuries. Even now he felt his ribs grinding together. “W-where…” He looked around, spotting the little baby still asleep in her bed. She was ok, their baby girl was ok. Focus returned to Melissa, eyes scanning her up and down. Bruises and cuts covered most of her body, but that smile.

“How long?” He asked, gulping painfully.

“Nearly two days.” Melissa said with a painful smile, those two days had been torture. Not knowing if he was going to make it through the countless surgeries, how or even if, he would recover from his injuries. 

“I’ve told my father about us. I kinda had to. I may have thrown a fit when the doctors suggested moving you elsewhere.” Melissa giggled, still keeping her hands on his torso, as if making sure this was all real. That he was really awake and alive. “They weren’t giving me any information about you, said it was “family only”. So now everyone knows… about us. About her.” 

Melissa turned around, bending to pick up their newborn baby daughter wrapped in a pink cotton onesie with daisies printed all over. Her little hands balled into fists grabbing Melissa’s hospital gown as she placed her head into the crook of her arm and against her chest. 

“She’s perfect Victor. You kept her safe. You kept us all safe.” Melissa couldn’t stop her eyes from welling up, holding her daughter in her arms and placing her gently against Victor’s side so he could get a better view. 

“Look at that…” He said, utter disbelief in his voice. Victor reached out, brushing his fingers along their daughters cheek. She quietly fussed, and Victor instinctually recoiled, worried he’d hurt her. It took Melissa’s reassurance to convince him otherwise. “She looks just like her mom.” Victor continued to brush the baby's cheek, his eyes bouncing between her, Melissa, and the new ring that now sat upon her third finger.

“You got the ring. Sorry that it wasn’t as romantic as I’d planned.” Victor adjusted in the bed, wincing, but accepting the pain in order to get closer to his fiancé and their daughter. “If it’s been two days… Did you name her already?” 

“The police found the ring and I erm… assumed.” Melissa smiled brightly, holding up the diamond proudly and catching it in the florescent hospital lights. “You saved my life, and delivered our baby, I’d say that was pretty romantic.” 

She bent forward, carefully keeping the little girl secure between them as her lips brushed tenderly against Victor’s. Full of so much emotion, love, and gratitude. Pulling away slowly, the baby stirred and disturbed her parents' reconciliation. 

“I haven’t named her yet, I wanted to wait for you to wake up, but I have thought of a name. After everything we went through to bring her into this world safely, I keep thinking about how we managed to escape… if it wasn’t for that river in the forest we never would have made it as far as we did.” Melissa looked down at the pink cheeks of her redhead daughter, nestled between her parents.

“I’d like to call her River.”  

“River.” He smiled at that. “That’s perfect.”

[whoisshel]

Moving Day

bob floyd x fem!reader

When Bob told you about permanently moving to North Island, you were reluctant. For the last few years, you lived with Bob in Lemoore, you were settled there, had a life there. You and Bob even talked about starting a family there. Now that the Dagger Squad was offered a long-term position at Top Gun, you had to leave home.

This was an opportunity Bob couldn’t pass up, and you knew that but it was still hard to up and move your whole life. This wasn’t the first time you’ve had to move because of Bob’s job, this one was just the hardest. At the other bases, you never stayed long enough to settle. In Lemoore, you made friends, joined a book club and a hiking club, it’s even where you adopted Lucky, your Australian Cattle Dog. Leaving meant leaving behind the many wonderful memories you made together. Maybe this was just your stubbornness but you didn’t want to have to make new memories,

The one thing keeping you hopeful about this move was that you didn’t have to live on base anymore which is what Bob keeps reminding you on the drive to your new house as you pout, looking out the window.

“Come on, please stop pouting,” Bob begged, stretching his hand across the console to rest on your thigh, “I promise the house will make up for this.”

“Why couldn’t we get this nice house back in Lemoore.” You sassed, crossing your arms, continuing to look away from Bob.

Bob took his hand back, becoming quieter, “Because this is a better job for me.”

Realizing you’re being a little rude, you uncross your arms, turning to look at Bob and grab his hand, “I know, I’m sorry it’s just so hard to leave everyone behind.”

“I know,” Bob squeezed your hand, “It’s hard for me too, but we’ll make so many great memories here. We’ll also have a big enough backyard for Lucky to run around and for you to have the garden you always wanted.”

“That does sound nice.”

“And you’ll get to meet everyone. You and Phoenix will get along great…Hangman not so much.”

“No, I’ve been training Lucky new attacks” Turning to look at the back seat where Lucky was lying, “Isn’t that right Lucky, we don’t let people bully Dad, do we?”

Lucky sat up a bit to let out a single bark in agreement.

“While I appreciate that, let's not injure my co-workers.”

“Fine” You pouted, turning back to face the front and crossing your arms.

Bob gave your thigh a light squeeze, smiling at your goofiness. In return, you grab Bob’s hand giving him a similar smile before looking out the window.

After a short nap, you wake up to Bob lightly shaking your leg.

“We’re here.” He whispered, excitement clear on his face from his bright eyes to the wide smile stretching across his cheek.

As Bob gets out of the car to let Lucky out, you take your time to look at your new house. The house is a cute, one-floor white Stucco-style house with a gate wrapping around the back. While it’s a small house, it’s perfect for your small family.

“Ready to see the inside?” Bob asked, stretching his hand out for you to grab.

Holding onto his hand, with Lucky’s leash in your other, the two of you walked up the short sidewalk to the front door. Bob unlocks the door, holding it open to let you walk in first. Stepping in, you take in the light wood floors, white walls, and open concept with a slight wall between the kitchen and what would become your living room, the room you’re currently standing in. Walking forward to look at the kitchen, you see a sliding door to the backyard. Opening the door, you let Lucky off the leash to let him run around the enclosed yard.

“What do you think so far?” Bob came up behind you watching Lucky run around.

Facing Bob, you gave him a bright smile, “It’s perfect, sorry for doubting you.”

“That’s okay, I know picking a house without telling you was a big decision, but I wanted to pick the best house if you were going to move here for me.”

“Well you did a great job.” You wrapped your arms around his giving him a kiss, Bob pulled you in closer by your waist. “I love it.”

“Wait until you see the bedrooms.”

Shocked, you pulled back slightly, keeping your arms around his neck, “Bedrooms?”

Taking you down the hall, Bob shows you the master bedroom and then a small bedroom across the hall. You stood in the doorway in awe that Bob thought to get a house with two rooms. In Lemoore, you had talked about starting a family, but with the move, you thought those plans would be put on hold.

“I thought this would be a nice room for a kid, our kid.” Bob said, standing a little behind you, “I know I’ve said this before, but I really feel like this is it, I’m done being moved around. And this house will be a great place to start a family, I mean Lucky loves the backyard. Once our family outgrows this house then we can look for something bigger. Or if you really don’t like it here, we can look somewhere else.”

To stop Bob from continuing his rambling, you kiss him abruptly, causing him to hum into the kiss.

Pulling back, you look deeply into Bob’s eyes to make sure he gets your point, “Bob like I’ve said, this house is perfect.”

“I’m glad you think so, I really like it too.”

“And I love having a backyard for Lucky.”

“I also thought you’d love to start the garden you always talk about.”

Giving Bob a short kiss of appreciation, “It'll also be nice for our future kid to have a place to play outside.”

“It would be, wouldn’t it?” Bob stared down at you with stars in his eyes.

“I love you.” You said, giving Bob another kiss.

“I love you too.” Bob replied in between kisses.

[teddypines]

Daddy's Home

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Summary: The 141, mostly Price, getting a warm welcome home from a long mission away. His dragon babies being adorable and Soap being a little possessive. Also Y/N being a good mom, because you are doing great.

Note: Just fluff in the monster au.

Art/picture is from Pinterest, credits go to whoever made it.

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Y/N helped Amy out of the car before grabbing Jim from his carseat. She wasn’t scared that Amy would run off right now, since the toddler was holding onto her belt loops and couldn’t fly very far on her own. She was way too tired to do anything else but to hold onto Momma. Y/N smiled while strapping the hatchling to her chest in his papoose. Amy used to fit inside the papoose when she was still small, but now it was Jim’s. Once Jim was all settled and continuing his nap, Y/N closed the car door. “Want to be on Momma’s back, Sweetpea?” She asked Amy, receiving a small nod from the toddler. She helped Amy onto her back, making sure she was safe between her wings. 

With the children close to her Y/N grabbed the baby bag from the trunk and locked the car. They were going to pick up Daddy from a long mission. It had been a rough couple of months, especially with Price missing Jim’s hatching, but she filmed it for him and sent it to him so he wouldn’t miss it entirely. Amy was missing Daddy bedtime and just having him and her uncles around. With a small determent smile Y/N took the kids to the airfield on base. Hoping Nikolia took the 141 back home safely.

Y/N had to wait a little while in one of the hangars, of course being checked and double checked that it was actually okay for her and the children to be there. Getting a few odd looks as she sat there, Amy still holding onto her back. “Momma? Why are we up?” She asked in a sleepy voice. it actually made a few of the nearby soldiers melt at how cute the little dragon was. “We are picking up Daddy, Sweetpea. Bringing him home with us, and of course your uncles too. Their flight is just really early that’s why we are up early too.” Y/N explained to Amy, hoping her tired mind would understand what was going on for now. Amy nodded her head against Y/N’s back. “Otay.” 

<------------------------------------------------------------->

It’s been a long 3 months. Price hated it, even more because he missed the hatching of his son. He was glad Y/N filmed it for him, but he still felt upset about it. He missed his princess and his wife. Only he didn’t have a lot of time to dwell on what he was missing since the mission came first. He had to make sure his team was doing their jobs and that they got home safe after it all ended. They got pretty lucky with this mission, only Soap was hurt and that was mostly his own fault for not looking where he was going. There were minor injuries, but Ghost still fussed over Soap on the plane, giving him a small lecture about keeping his eyes open and to focus instead of yepping over com’s. 

Price just let it all happen around him as he talked to Gaz, telling the sergeant how much he longed for a hot shower and cuddles on the couch. Wanting to hear Amy’s voice, wanting to hold his son and to kiss Y/N. It was clear by the way Price moved his tail around the floor of the plane. Gaz understood the longing his captain felt, wanting to go back to his own loved ones. He was just as curious about seeing Price’s son as the man himself, wondering if the hatchling got his colors for his dad or his mom, or maybe a mix of both. Soap just wanted to see the hatchling and Y/N again, and have some time with Ghost. And Ghost just wanted to sleep.

“Landing in about 10 minutes, everyone.” Nikolia’s co-pilot announced to the 141, The four of them smiling at the news. They would be home soon with a welcome home party waiting for them on base. A small party, but a party nonetheless.

<------------------------------------------------------------->

“Miss? The plane is landing in about five minutes, would you like me to take you to the landing?” One of the soldiers around her asked with a kind smile on his face. Y/N nodded and stood up with a groan, Amy was fast asleep on her back, putting her full weight onto her Momma’s back. “Yes, I would like that, thank you.” Y/N answered. Quickly following after the soldier. She knew she had to wake Amy up soon or she would be upset that she didn’t get to greet her daddy. Jim wouldn’t mind either way, he was happy with whatever. 

Amy luckily woke up by herself from the loud noise of the plane. She was wide awake when she realized her Daddy was on that plane. “Momma, down! I want down!!” She demanded while struggling between Y/N’s wings. “Hold on a moment, Sweetpea, Momma is still walking.” Y/N answered only to be ignored by the toddler. Y/N sighed and quickly let Amy down. Needing to stop and kneel slightly, just to let the little one off safely. Amy flapped her wings in excitement as she ran a head to the landing plane. “Not too fast, Amy! We don’t want you to fall.” Y/N yelled after her. 

The soldier led the last bit of the way to the landing, the plane already landed. Now they just had to wait for the loading door to open. Amy, already jumping up in the air to fly towards daddy. “Daddy!” She yelled, just wanting her daddy back with her. 

It took a little while for the loading door to open, but there they were, the 141 safe and sound. Amy flew into Price’s arms, surprising him just a little. John quickly wrapped his arms around his little girl and kissed her head between her growing horns. “Hello, Pumpkin.” John greeted Amy. “I missed you so much.” He mumbled against her head “Missed you too, Daddy.” Amy answered. The others just chuckled and walked past the two dragons. Soap quickly going over to Y/N, the werewolf was more excited about seeing the hatchling and Y/N. 

“Sooooo, where is he?!” Soap asked, his tail wagging like crazy. “Well hello to you too, Johnny, yes i am doing great, thank you for asking.” Y/N responded as she carefully took Jim out of his papoose. “Jimmy, meet your uncle Johnny. He’s a werewolf and you’re gonna love cuddling with him.” She introduced the two. Johnny looking at the dragon hatchling in aw. “He looks so small.” Johnny carefully took Jim from Y/N. “Yeah, he’s just a little smaller than when Amy hatched.” Y/N answered, making sure Johnny was holding Jim the right way. Even when he had a lot of experience with holding Amy, Jim was just a bit more fussy about how people should hold him.

Simon slowly made his way to Johnny and Y/N, standing next to Y/N as he looked at Jim. “He does have a lot more hair than Amy did after hatching.” He commented after taking off his mask, not wanting to scare the hatchling. Knowing from experience that hatchlings didn’t like his Ghost mask. “Yeah, he has his Momma’s hair.” Y/N explained. 

John finally let Amy go once Kyle was like, ‘Okay enough, my time for hugs’. He looked over at the group a little further from the plane, he saw Y/N and just ran to her. Catching her off guard when he picked her up and kissed her. Holding her close as he spun her around. “Hello, Love.” He whispered to her. “Welcome home.” Y/N whispered back. She had wrapped her arms and wings around John, giving them a small moment alone. Putting his forehead and horns against hers. “I missed you.” Y/N whispered, a few tears rolling down her cheeks as she looked at her husband. “I missed you more, Love.” John answered between kissing her cheeks. Kissing her tears away. His one wing goes around Y/N’s wings.

“Do you want to see your son?” Y/N asked after a moment of silence. John nodded in answer before reluctantly letting Y/N go. She grabbed his hand and led him back to Johnny and Simon. “Johnny boy, can I have my son back?” She asked only to receive an almost death glare back from the werewolf. “Johnny, give the lass her son!” Simon ordered the werewolf, knowing he was already attached to the hatchling, just like when he first met Amy. Johnny whined before handing Jim back to Y/N. She moved Jim in John’s direction. “Meet your son, James Henry Price.” John looked at the hatchling in aw before grabbing him. Holding him close and just taking everything in. “He is beautiful, Love.” 

Amy ran towards her Momma and Daddy once she was out of Kyle’s arms. “Daddy’s home!!!” She cheered, continuing to run around the 141. Kyle joined the group shortly after. “She has a lot of energy doesn’t she?” John nodded his head, but kept his focus on his son. Jim let out a big yawn and spread his little wings a bit, they were still flimsy, but are slowly getting stronger. They were a pretty light blue. Getting the color from John's mother. “Owh What a handsome boy.” Kyle cooed over the hatchling. John smiled At his son and quickly kissed Y/N. “Thank you, love, thank you for this. For coming to get us.”

“Always John.” Y/N answered, happy that the boy’s were home safe.

[andy-15-07]

could you write dad!pedro. anything. surprise me! 🫶

Built from Nineteen

PAIRING:Pedro Pascal x reader

WORD COUNT: 1432 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

A/n:Hi, I thought I'd make a fic with Grandpa Pedro, I hope you like it.

You slide on your sunglasses and glance over at Pedro, who’s tapping the steering wheel with a restless energy only he can sustain. “You sure you don’t want me to drive?” you tease, gripping his hand.

He shakes his head, a grin spreading beneath his scruffy beard. “Nope. Today you’re the co-pilot, Mrs. Pascal. Our granddaughter’s here.”

Your chest tightens at the words. Granddaughter. It still feels surreal. After thirty-one years of marriage,married at nineteen, you remind each other often,life has an uncanny way of looping back on itself. Now, at fifty, you’re both waiting outside the maternity ward while your eldest, Isabella, welcomes her first child into the world.

“Want to talk about the others?” you ask, nodding toward the backseat where your two youngest are sprawled on the folded-down seats of the SUV. Lucas, twenty-six, is texting, already plotting a visit to the hospital; Diego, twenty-three, is reading some sci-fi novel, head bobbing as the car idles. And Mia, your fifteen-year-old, is asleep in the middle, her long hair splayed across both seats. You both laugh quietly,Mia’s Sunday afternoon naps are legendary.

Pedro shifts to look at you. “What about the way you made me ask your father for permission to marry you?” His eyes twinkle with mischief.

You roll your eyes, smiling. “He was terrifying. I almost begged you to drop me off at home and call it off.”

He grins wider. “Then you would have denied me the best twenty-seven years of my life.”

You squeeze his hand. “Twenty-seven years married, plus the two years we were engaged. Twenty-nine! You did wait for me.”

A sudden vibration: your phone buzzes. You glance down. A text from Isabella: Pushing now. Wish us luck! You breathe in. “She’s starting to push.”

Pedro exhales. “Here we go.” He hits the lock and pushes the car door open with a flourish. “Let’s greet Grandma and Grandpa Hotel!” he declares, making you laugh as you both hop out.

Inside the brightly lit corridor of the maternity ward, the sterile scent contrasts sharply with the warmth of anticipation bubbling in your chest. You approach the nurses’ station; the young woman behind the counter welcomes you by name. “Mrs. Pascal, Mr. Pascal, she’s doing great. They’re prepping the newborn for a quick check before you head in.”

You exchange a glance with Pedro, who looks just as giddy as you feel. Behind you, Lucas and Diego tumble through the doors, scanning for you with sleepy eyes, until they spot the Pascal trademark excitement. “Wait, we get to meet our niece?” Lucas asks, straightening in sudden alertness.

“Your niece, yes,” you confirm, tapping your son’s shoulder. “But more importantly, she’s our first grandbaby.”

Diego’s jaw drops. “Grandbaby. Dude.”

“Seriously,” you say, brushing past him. “Fifty years old. Four kids, and now the next generation.”

Mia, who’s rubbing sleep from her eyes, leans forward. “Why do I feel like I’ve been waiting nineteen years for this?” she murmurs, voice drowsy but face lighting up.

Pedro chuckles. “You’ve got the right idea, kiddo.”

The nurse returns with a swaddled bundle,pink and soft and Mom and Dad peek around the corner of the nursery window. Your heart lurches as you step forward; Pedro puts an arm around your shoulders.

There she is: a tiny head crowned with chestnut hair, little fists curled against her cheeks, slated for greatness. You catch Pedro holding back tears; his voice cracks as he asks, “Isabella? Can we...can we see her?”

A nurse lifts the cover and opens the door. “Just for a minute,” she says gently. “She’s doing well.”

You step in, Pedro just behind you. Your eyes meet and you both let your hand rest on the incubator’s edge. “Hey, little one,” you whisper, leaning forward. “I’ve been waiting nineteen years for you.” You reach in, careful to slide on the tiny glove, and touch her tiny palm. She grips your finger.

Pedro clears his throat. “I’m ...I’m Grandpa Pedro.”

You laugh softly. “You’re Grandpa Pedro.” Turning to him, you add, “You did promise to go by Grandpa Pedro instead of Pop-Pop.”

He nods gravely. “Important distinction.” He shrugs, eyes brimming. “Pop-Pop is too… cat-like.”

Mia scoots up next to you, peering at the baby’s face. “She’s perfect.”

Diego shuffles in behind her. “She’s got Mom’s cheeks.”

Lucas ducks in by Pedro’s side. “And Dad’s strong grip.” He lightly squeezes her hand, marveling.

Isabella appears in the doorway,pale but triumphant,supported by Chris, her husband. She’s crying; you rush forward to embrace her. “You did it,” you whisper into her hair.

She nods, tears falling. “She’s healthy. She’s ours.”

Chris offers a sheepish smile. “We named her Emma.”

Emma. Simple, sweet. You feel a surge of emotion. “Emma,” you repeat. “Welcome.”

Pedro bends, kisses Isabella’s forehead, then Chris’s shoulder. “We are so proud.”

Behind you, the nurse clears her throat. “Time’s up. We’ll be bringing baby Emma back in a bit.”

You step out of the nursery, your arms still full of joy. The hall seems to glow, as if the fluorescent lights are basking in newborn radiance. Outside, you find a visitors’ chair; Pedro seats you, and you sink in, letting the moment wash over you.

“Can you believe we’re grandparents?” you ask, and he wraps an arm around you

“I can,” he says, “but it still feels like a dream.”

You smile against his shoulder. “Do you remember our wedding day?”

He chuckles, voice soft. “You telling me to look confident even though my nerves were betraying me.”

“You had that ridiculous grin.” You sit up. “Tell them what happened.”

He grins at your prompting, then clears his throat for effect. “So I’m standing at the altar, right? And then I suddenly realize… I forgot the rings.”

You laugh, high and delighted. “Oh, God! You were mortified.”

Pedro nods solemnly. “I literally patted every pocket before, and then,nothing. I whispered to you, ‘They’re missing.’ And you just looked at me and said, ‘Give me your jacket.’”

You grin. “I found them in your boot.”

He chuckles, warm. “The one with the scorpion embroidered on it.”

You laugh again, shaking your head. “We were married in a blaze of improvised vows, the rings slipped on with tears and laughter.”

“Exactly,” he says, lifting your hand and kissing your knuckles. “We’ve been winging it ever since.”

You nudge him. “Agreed. And look at us now: winging it with four kids, a granddaughter, a 15-year-old who steals our snacks…”

Mia’s voice drifts from down the hall: “Mom? Dad? When can I meet her?!”

You grin, standing up. “Right now."

Back in the nursery, you’re the first to circle back in. The room feels quieter than before, shadows dancing on the walls. Nurses bustle softly, and Emma is swaddled in a pastel blanket. You approach with reverence.

Pedro steps beside you. He whispers, “Her little face wrinkles when she sleeps.”

You nod, enchanted. “She seems peaceful.” You lean forward and hum a lullaby,one you sang to your own children,which earns a tiny twitch of Emma’s finger.

Pedro watches, eyes shining. “That sound… it’s us, you know? It’s our family echoing

You rest your hand on his, pressing it to your heart. “All those years ago, we never imagined this moment.”

He smiles. “But we always believed it.”

The door opens and Isabella slips in. “Mind if I join?” she asks quietly.

You wave her forward and she sits on the little rocking chair. Chris stands behind, hand resting on her shoulder.

Isabella’s voice is soft. “I’ve dreamed of this day since I was ten.” She looks at Emma, tears glistening. “She’s exactly what I hoped.”

You squeeze her arm. “You’re a mother. My girl… you’ve grown.”

Chris speaks for the first time. “Thank you,both of you— or everything.”

Pedro squeezes Chris’s hand. “No, thank you for making us grandparents.”

It feels like a promise,an unspoken pledge that the circle continues. You glance at your wristwatch. “We should get back and tell the others.”

Isabella nods and stands, cradling Emma. “Come on,” she says. “Let’s go say hi to Marco and Lucia, too.”

You follow her out into the hall, but pause at the doorway. You turn to Pedro. “Hand in hand, like always?”

He offers his arm. “Like always.”

You link yours through his, stepping out together, hearts full. Outside, you’ll meet Lucas, Diego, and Mia, full of excitement, and everyone will crowd around Emma. But right now, in this fleeting quiet, you share a look that says more than words: nineteen-year-olds dreaming big, now fifty-year-old keepers of a legacy, welcoming the next generation with open arms. And it is perfect.

[electronicwitchcollection]

~*Aizawa smut*~

Finally, the result of the jealous poll is written! While I was writing it, I had another Aizawa request and realised that request fit better with what I was already writing 🫠 so I had to rewrite what I had written and then restart this from scratch 🙃

Anyway, here it is! The first thing I’ve written that’s not about Bleach 😂

Being a pro hero was hard. Teaching a class room full of overconfident, stubborn teenagers with quirks was harder. You loved it though, found it incredibly rewarding and your heart swelled seeing those young men and women bloom into the great heros they become under your guidance. But damn, it one hell of a journey to get them to that point. That's why you've found yourself accepting the offer to join the other faculty in one of their impromptu "Let's go to the bar and get drunk before those damn kids make me reevaluate wether or not it is worth not just becoming a villain and blowing up the damn school, children and all" or whatever it was Mic had said to convince you to join them.

After some delicate and calculated persuasion, you had convinced your partner to join you. Shota was a somewhat reserved and apathetic man. His tired appearance and preference to nap above all else gave him a rather cool and unbothered disposition. He wasn't one for social gatherings nor large crowds, preferring his own company or that of a small select few. Despite this, he begrudgingly agreed to accompany you to the gathering, if only to prevent any unwanted attention you may get, given the shortness of the dress you had decided to wear.

For his usual lethargic demeanour, he was infatuated with you. He loved you irrevocably. Shota could be supportive and incredibly sweet, but he had a possessive, jealous streak a mile wide that he hadn't been able to tame in all the time he has called you his. You saw the way his half laden eyes widened a fraction, darkening as he feasted on the unobstructed view of your thighs. Saw his fingers twitch at his sides, itching to reach out and remind you that you and your body belonged to him and him only. It had worked though, sighing as he rubbed a tired hand down his face, muttering that he'll go and change.

As the night progressed the alcohol flowed easily, doing its job to help you unwind and relax. Inhibitions lowered, you chatted happily with your co workers, reminiscing over past missions you had participated in before you all became teachers and swapping war stories of the children in your classes. The lights were dimmed, pulsing colours lighting up the small dance floor you could see, housing inebriated strangers sensually moving their bodies to the beat. You could feel the music vibrating through your body, tempting you with its intoxicating melody to sway with the rhythm.

As your hips moved beneath you, you felt a chill run up your spine. Eyes snapping up, they immediately fell on Shota, staring at you from across the room. Sat at the bar between Snipe and Vlad, paying no mind to their conversation, his entire attention was fixed on you. His legs were spread, intoxicatingly so, foot bouncing with restless energy. A small smirk appeared on his lips before he brought the bottle of beer he was nursing up to his mouth. Your mouth went dry at the sight, flush of heat rising through your body that had nothing to do with the alcohol..

"Let's dance!" Nemuri spoke into your ear to be heard over the music, snapping you out of your trance. It felt like somebody suddenly turned up the music, brightened the lights as you broke away from his predatory stare. Nodding happily you accepted her hand and allowed her to drag you from the table. Passing the bar you locked eyes with Shota. You held out two fingers to Nemuri as she turned at your sudden stopping, letting her know you'll join her soon. You slipped between Shots's open thighs, as he raised an amused eye brow.

Laying a hand on his thigh you leaned in, the subtle masculine smell of his aftershave drawing you closer. His hand automatically went to your dress, subtly tugging down the hem to a more appropriate length before sliding up and setting on the swell of your hip. He leaned in close to your ear, gravely voice cutting through the energetic music "Do you want a drink, Kitten?"

You shook your head no, giving him your best smile. You wrapped your hand around his fingers, so much thicker and battle worn than your own, playing with them teasingly "Come dance with me"

"No" 

You pout at the short, blunt denial, bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly. He was so much more reserved when not at home. Less playful and willing to engage with your energetic whims. Normally you were sympathetic to his uneasiness, understanding of his dislike for situations such as this. But you were well on your way to being drunk and you wanted to dance with your boyfriend. Wanted to feel his hard body move against your own. Using his strength to twirl and bend you to his will. "Please?"

He shook his head with a soft smile at your wide, pleading eyes and the child like reaction to being told no. His hand abandoned his drink to the bar, the chill lingering on his palm as he cupped your jaw, using his thumb to pull gently on your bottom lip, watching as it bounced back to normal "No. I don't dance"  He gently brushed the back of his knuckles over the tip of your nose before leaning in to kiss you. It was sort and discreet, yet it made your eyelids flutter close, your body lean in closer to prolong the grazing contact for as long as he allowed.

His hand sneaked from your hip to the swell of your ass, giving it a possessive squeeze and a dismissive tap "You dance, I'll watch" you just caught the subtle warning in his husky voice, so well disguised in his aloof candour you almost missed it. His eye brow raised the smallest of fractions, eyes deepening the faintest of shades darker . Have fun... but behave.

He'll be watching. Watching to ensure that dress of yours doesn't ride up too high up your shapley thighs. Watching to make sure no one gets too close to what was his. The unspoken promise sent a chill up your spine. A little put out that he denied your request, you turn to make your way to the dance floor, making sure to let your fingers slowly caress their way down his thigh as you parted. You didn't look back, you didn't need to. You could feel the weight of his stare on you, could feel the hairs in your body stand on end at his predatory gaze fixed on you.

You easily spotted Nemuri, dancing seductively in the middle of the dance floor, more than one set of eyes on her. In your absence she had coaxed Mic into dancing with her, an accessory to use to highlight her flirtatious movements. Her eyes brightened when she caught sight of you, beckoning you closer with a curl of her finger. She oozed sex appeal, her confident, hypnotic movements of her hips easily encouraged you  to succumb to the music, letting your body feel the beat,sway your hips to the rhythm.

Grinning widely, you look over your shoulder, catching Shota's eyes already fixated on you. Watching the seductive roll of your hips, the way your ass bounced under that dress threatening to ride up with every sway of your hips. He wanted to watch? Then you would put on a show for him, let him see exactly what your body could do when he isn't pressed up against you to keep you behaving.

Your fingers gently brush against your thighs, slowly dragging them up, caressing the exposed skin. Higher they climb, following the curves of your hips and waist, coming up to twist gently in your hair as your eyes close, body moving to the beat that made your heart thump in your chest. You look through your lashes, a thrill shooting through you at the hungry look on Shota's face, eyes never leaving you. You could see the faintest if smirks on his lips, he was enjoying your teasing.

You run your tongue over your bottom lip, heat pooling in your stomach at the way he looked at you, ravenously. You could see his hand flexing on his thigh, itching to get you in his grasp. You were steadily riling him up, with your flirtatious movements, pushing your limits, igniting the embers of passion that burned in every inch of his body for you. Only you. Yet he still wasn't budging. You had yet to entice him from his seat to join you on the dance floor.

You felt a large hand settle on you hip,breaking away your focus from Shota to see who was touching you. Ready to politely refuse their advances. Your eyes lit up upon seeing the cocky grin of your occasional mission partner. Blonde hair pushed back, large red wings blocking the dancers behind him. With an exited laugh, you tip toe and throw your arms around him, an inebriated display of greeting"Hawks! What are you doing here!?" 

He grinned and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him to talk into your ear "I was in the area..thought I'd stop by"  You lean back, flattening your feet to smile at him. It had been ages since you had last seen him, he rarely made an appearance around the school anymore since becoming the second hero in the ranks. He looked you up and down, lip curling into a smirk "you look good, I'm surprised that boyfriend of yours left you all alone looking like that" 

You chuckle, stepping to the side to nod at where Shota was perched at the bar"He's over there."  Hawks leaned closer, sending Aizawa an exaggerated wave. You could see Shota's jaw clench, eye brows furrow in annoyance. Hawks was not his favourite person at the best of times, but the overfamiliar way in which he spoke to you, nonchalantly touched you, made him absolutely murderous. A fact Hawks both knew and enjoyed.

You elbow him softly in the stomach, trying to hide your grin as you turned back to focus on him "Stop trying to wind him up"  the answering grin told you that you were right in your accusation , damn wind up merchant. Leaning down he spoke across your ear, eyes watching Shota as he silently fumed at the close proximity "Isnt that exactly what you were just doing? I saw the way you were shaking that ass, trying to make him jealous?" 

You couldn't deny it. That's exactly what you were trying to do. You knew how jealous and possessive Shota could be, and secretly loved the thrill you felt when he snapped and reminded you just who it was you belonged too. "A little" you admit with a guilty smile and a half shrug "he wouldn't dance with me, I was attempting to seduce him over" 

Hawks straightened up, wrapping his hand around your hip and pulling you closer to him. White teeth on display as he grinned menacingly "Let's see how mad we can make him" Before you could think of all the reasons why that wasn't the best of ideas, Hawks placed his hand in the centre of your back, using it to support your weight as he dipped you back playfully, long hair tumbling back as you laughed. He swayed you in an arch before snapping you back up straight, smirking at the joy on your face. Hands returning to your hips he pushed into you, leading you in a flirtatious to and fro.

Your hips swayed and rotated, flawlessly hitting every beat. One hand gripping his shoulder for stability, the other resting gently on his arm. You playfully flipped your hair, rolling your body into Hawks. He answered in kind, moulding himself to the shape of your body, gyrating playfully into you, eyes flicking over your head to take in the sight of Shota, steadily becoming more enraged at the display, with sadistic glee.

You moved and and swayed easily in accordance to Hawks's lead, giving yourself over to the joy of letting go of your inhibitions, simply enjoying the freedom of dance. Hawks took hold of your hand, directing you into a spin, grinning at your laugh. Spinning you the opposite way a half turn, he pressed himself into your back. Hands on your hips he encouraged you to sway side to side.

Lost in the music you didn't notice Shota's stiffening form, the tightening grip on his beer bottle threatening to smash the fragile glass. Too preoccupied with your promiscuous gyrating to see the darkening of his eyes, the clenching of his jaw. You were unknowingly pushing him to his limit and he was about to snap under the pressure. Hawks was a little more tuned in, lowering his head over your shoulder to hide his smirk so not to provoke that anger his way.

You noticed too late, the drag of Hawks hands going from your hips to your waist, unintentionally dragging up your dress with the movements, aided by your serpentining hips. Feeling the fabric of your dress bunching up too high at the top of your thighs, you quickly tugged it back down, red tinting your cheeks at the unintended, indecent exposure of your body. Hawks squeezed your waist, rumbling chuckle in his chest vibrating through your back as he muttered into you ear

"Seems Aizawa has reached his limit"  You look up to where Shota was previously sitting, only for your eyes to widen and your mouth go dry at the sight of him angrily stalking towards you, eyes flashing dangerously in the neon lights. Shit. You went too far.  "It's been fun," you could hear the amusement in his voice, struggling to contain his laughter " but that's my cue to leave" he tapped your side once in parting before backing away discreetly, mingling into the mass of dancers to avoid Aizawa's impending wrath.

You didn't look back, keeping your eyes solely focused on Shota as he neared, readying your apology on your lips for when he came within hearing distance. You could almost see the heavy waves of irritation pouring from him in droves as he stalked through the crowd, not deviating from the straightest path to you. "Shota, I..." not breaking his stride, his hand encased your wrist, pulling you silently behind him as he carried on walking through the dance floor, your attempted apology falling on deaf ears. He was pissed, and he was going to make you pay.

You teetered behind him, struggling to keep up with his long powerful strides in your heels, but knowing you would be ignored, you kept the complaint to yourself. Breaking through the crowd , Shota opened the dark wooden door that lead the the corridor where the restrooms were situated, pulling you through. The door closing behind you muffled the deafening music, your ears ringing gently with the change of decibels. The sound of your heels clacking on the floor, too soft to hide the angry heavy steps of the one leading you.

Shota walked past both the men's and woman's bathroom, headed straight for an unmarked door at the end of the corridor in eerie silence. Throwing open the last door with the same delicate care he had the first, he pulled you in behind him, turning quick to slam it shut behind you. You heard the click of the lock a mere second before you were pushed up against the rigid door, trapped by his hands planted either side of your head. Your eyes flicked over his shoulder, momentarily checking your surroundings, stacked shelves of alcohol bottles and boxes of crisps was all you could take in before Shota's hot breath brushed against your neck with every frustrated exhale.

You swallowed thickly, dry lips parting as you carefully moistened them with your tongue. The atmosphere around you was thick and tense, suffocating with his barely restrained fury"Shota, I'm... "

"You thought it would be fun to make me jealous? " He talked over your meek explanation, voice dark and thick, like raw honey dripping from his tongue and coating his words. His hot breath landed on your neck, prompting an involuntary shiver "You put on quite the show didn't you? flashing your pretty little panties to everyone in that bar " You whine breathlessly as his teeth grazed over the flushed skin on your neck before sinking in harshly.

You moan, head swimming dizzily at the rush of heat throbbing between his lips. His hot, wet tongue soothing over the mark he had made on your skin, reaffirming his claim of you. Your head lulled to the side, offering him unobstructed access as your eyes fluttered closed. Possessive kisses were pressed into your neck as large hands found your thighs, caressing over the silky skin.

Your breath caught in your throat as his hands increased their pressure, dragging up your thighs, bringing your dress up with them to bunch at your hips, exposing your panties for the second time that night  "Shota.."  he silenced you with a forceful kiss, unkept scruff adding to the sensations driving you needy with desire. He bit at your bottom lip, thrusting his tongue between your parted lips as you gasped. You surrendered easily, giving up the control he desperately craved, blindly following the intoxicating way his tongue brushed against your own, dictating the pressure and speed to suit his tastes.

You could feel his strong hands gripping your hips with bruising force, keeping you immobile against the door as he claimed your mouth. Your breath quickened when one of his hands started to wander, brushing tantalisingly slow over your thigh, fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. When a finger curved against your core, following your panty covered slit, you gasped, groaning in the back of your throat 

"Shota.." 

"You love making me jealous don't you?"  You could hear the strain in his voice, feel the restraint he was exhibiting not to lose it completely. His finger brushed over you again, adding more pressure to demonstrate his intent. "Love driving me wild..." He muttered into your neck, nipping at the skin between husky words. His fingers followed up your panties to the waistline, teasing along the band "Letting another man feel what is mine" Shota pushed his hand into your underwear, slipping a teasing finger between your folds, gathering the moisture dampening your silky skin to ease his entry. You moan at the ripple of pleasure surging through you, gripping hold of his wrist in an effort to not melt into a pool at his feet. His name the only thing able to leave your lips in a breathy whine

"Can he make you feel good like this?"  He dipped his finger deeper into your core, feeling your inner walls clamp around his invading digit. Slowly thrusting it into your depths, teasing against your hidden pleasure spot as you moaned. "Can he make you moan as beautifully as this?"  You whined pathetically, knees weakening with every dirty word breathed hotly against your ear.

His finger stopped its torturous teasing, pulling away from you completely leaving you feeling empty and needy. His darkened eyes captured you in an unbreakable stare, unable to pull away from the intensity in which he held you. His hot breath coated your lips with heavy pants, usual cool demeanour replaced with unrestrained desire. "You love taunting me, don't you?..." his whispered words sent a shiver down your spine, needing no volume or intensity to make your heart rate quicken beneath your breast.

He hooked his fingers into your panties, dragging them down over the swell of your hips to your thighs where the fell down the length of your legs. He kneeled, eyes not leaving your own as he smoothed his palms down your quivering legs, lifting each in turn to remove the underwear trapped around your ankles and shoving the garment into his pocket "...Just so we end up here, with my head between your legs, every ..fucking.. time" 

You watched transfixed as he guided one of your legs to drape across his shoulder, messy black hair obscuring your view as he inched his way towards your core. You heard him inhale deeply, groaning deeply at your intoxicating scent before flicking his eyes up to yours once more to utter a single command

"Watch" 

A strangled moan ripped from your throat at the first drag of his tongue, slowly, torturously licking a wet stripe up towards your clit where he rolled his tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves. Looking down you couldn't tear your eyes away from the sight. Shota, on his knees, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he lapped at your most sensitive area with possessive hunger. Your hands went to his hair, pushing it back from his face to give you an unobstructed view as he tasted you. Using him for stability as your leg started quivering beneath you.

Shota twirled his tongue over your swelling clit, flicking the tip against it rapidly with a grunt as your fingers tighten in his hair. Your breathy moans and quivering thighs feeding his possessive nature. Fingers digging into your thighs, Shota pushed his face deeper, nose pressing into your soft mound as his dexterous appendage traced your bundle of nerves. The smell of your arousal hit his nose, making his mouth water instantly.

Lavishing your clit with a sloppy kiss, Shota couldn't get enough of your sweet whines, steadily increasing their volume, making themselves known over the beat steadily thumping from the bar . Your taste was intoxicating, heady flavour coating his tongue with every deliberate swipe had him yearning for more. Subtly lingering on his tastebuds, Shota sought a thicker coating on his tongue. Parting with your clit with a gentle suckle, Shota kissed his way down to your opening, seeking to drink straight from the source.

Looking through pleasure filled, half laden eyes, you watched mesmerised as he lapped at your folds, delving his tongue deeper with every earnest swipe. Currents of pleasure rippled through your body with every flick of his tongue , pushing you closer to the edge of euphoria you were in desperate need of. Nonsensical moans fell from your parted lips, fingers tightening in his disheveled hair as your thighs quivered.

Shota grunted once at the tug you gave in his hair, not letting it distract or deter him from his intended target. His tongue pushed through your silky folds to plunder your depths. The way he stroked your inner walls was luxurious, slow and deliberate, assuring he tasted every inch of you, capturing every drop of your arousal to claim as his own. Unable to control your reactions in the midst of pleasure, your head dropped back to hit against the door, guttural moan escaping past your heavy pants, giving yourself over to the burning desire.

His movements quickened, slurping obscenely at your cunt, his skilled appendage pistoned into you with vigorous determination to get you to completion. "Shota.." you whined, sensations becoming overwhelming, needing more to push you over the edge you were teetering on. When the tip of his tongue sinfully flicked over your hidden sweet spot you gasped, thighs attempting to close together in a futile effort to halt the breath stealing sensation.

Shota growled between your legs, reluctantly pulling away from his treat to shoot you a stern look, one that has struck fear into the most ruthless of villains, your arousal glistening on his unkept scruff. Fingers tightening on your thighs, he opened them back up, keeping your thigh planted at the edge of his shoulder allowing him the room he desired "keep your fucking legs open . Im not finished"  he warned with a husky growl, leaving no room for argument or objection before eagerly returning to your core.

Quickly resuming his loud devouring, Shota drove his tongue into your depths, wetting his tongue with your arousal, his desire for you unquenchable. His grip on your legs was bruising, fingers digging into the soft plush, keeping you open for him. He could feel you quiver, your body trembling as the surge of pleasure raced through you, heating every nerve that dwelled within.

You were close, he knew the signs, had them memorised. The shuddering way you gasped between strangled moans, the way your hips jerked minutely, unsure wether to retreat or push closer to the source of your pleasure. The way your fingers tightened in his hair, hand shaking as you resisted the urge to push him closer. He wanted your release, your sweet cries, your addicting taste. The knowledge that he was the one, the only one, who could pleasure you this skilfully.

His own erection straining in his pants, protesting being confined by the unforgiving fabric of his jeans only hastened his need to bring you to completion. Eager to to feel your tight walls being split open by his thick cock, squeezing him so tight it was sinful. His calloused hand trailed up your thigh, slipping between your soaked folds as he returned to your clit, flicking his tongue over it relentlessly.

He could feel your juices being pushed out by his fingers, wetting his hand as he thrusted them into you with increasing speed. Your moans left you without restriction , vocalising the pleasure you were feeling. You were burning, pleasure coursing through your veins like molten lava, incinerating you from the inside out, searching for a way to escape. You could feel your lower stomach tightening, like a band ready to snap and release all the built up tension.

Shota swirled had his tongue around the shape of your clit before surrounding it with his lips and sucking. His fingers curled inside you, beckoning your body to its climax as they brushed over the spongy pleasure point he knew would send you over the edge. And over the edge you went, eyes slamming shut at the rush of release, you saw white behind your lids. Mouth parted in a silent scream, your body jerked and twitched as the orgasm exploded through your body.

Shota groaned as he felt you climax, your walls clamping down tight over his still probing fingers, your release getting pushed out, spraying over his hand. He kept his fingers and tongue moving to carry you trough your orgasm, pridful growl rumbling in his chest. When you were left panting over him, your grip on his hair loosening, Shota finally pulled away from you. Sat back on his haunches, he sucked his fingers clean, dark eyes taking in your appearance.

You were panting, face flushed pink. Beautiful. His. Pulling your leg from his shoulder, Shota shot up to his feet, large hands cupping your face and pulling you into a deep, frenzied kiss. You were pliant in his hands, melting into him as you tasted yourself mixed with the bitter malty remnants of the long forgotten beer he had been nursing.

 "You were beautiful Kitten... perfect"  he whispered huskily against your lips, kissing you again, then one more time "but im not finished with you yet.." his tone turned darker, tilting your head up to look into his eyes. " after that little stunt you pulled.. you're going to be screaming before I'm satisfied you've learnt your lesson.."

Your breath caught in your throat, a chill running down your spine. Shota's hand left your cheek, the sound of his belt buckle clinking soon following. You swallow thickly, tongue darting out to moisten your suddenly dry lips. You couldnt help yourself, at the sound of his zipper being pulled down your eyes drop down automatically, just in time to see his ridgid cock spring free of its denim prison as Shota pushes his jeans down to his mid thigh.

You watch transfixed as he fists himself, squeezing his thick cock as he pumps himself slowly, getting a desperately needed moment of relief. The gravely moan in the back of his throat made your clit throb, pussy aching to have him buried deep inside you. You wanted to touch him, to run your fingers over the vein that protruded ever so slightly, follow it like a road map up to the head of his cock, brush your thumb over the bead of precum. Smeer it down his shaft and wrap your fingers around him, feeling the silky hot skin under your fingers. Pump him slowly until hes thrusting into your hand...

Before you could make a move to fufil your desire to touch him, Shota released the hold he had on himself. He swiftly grabbed your hips, fingers splayed over your ass and lifted you easily, pressing you back against the door. You wrap your legs around his waist, arms circling the back of his neck as you press together. His breath was laborded with need, eyes fixed on yours. He captures your lips once again, hand leaving your hip to guide his cock to your entrance. Sliding through your lips to coat himself in your wettness.

With a rough snap of his hips, Shota sheathes himself to the hilt into you in one fluid snap. You cry out, head thrown back breaking the kiss, hearing his own guteral groan in your ear. Your nails dig into the back of his shoulders, little creaent moon indents left in his skin, proof of your pleasure. Panting lightly as you try to adjust to the thick length stretching you to its shape, you moan up at the ceiling. Not giving you time to adjust he sets a punishing pace, pistoning his cock into your velvety depths as he mouths at your neck.

 "Fuck Kitten.." he growls into your neck, nipping at your sensitive skin "always so goddamn tight.. perfect"

A series of wanton moans and breathless whines fall from your lips as you were repeatedly fucked into the door, hearing it rattle in its frame. Shota's fingers dig into the swell of your ass as he uses it for leverage, slamming you onto his cock every time he drives forward.

"Purr for me Kitten..."  he whispers into your ear, his hot breath making you shiver "let me hear those pretty little moans" 

You oblige, moaning over the lewd symphony of your debauchery, the rhythmic slapping of skin, the sinfuly obscene wettness of your cunt as he hammers into you. "Shota... ngh..." you whine breathlessy, tilting your head down to watch his face. His jaw set in concentration, trying not to blow his load too early. His lips parted with ragged breaths, trying to suck in enough oxygen to keep up with his frenzied pace.

One of his hands leaves your ass to roughly tug down the front of your dress,  cupping one of your perfect round tits, squeezing the weight. He pinches your rosy pink bud between his finger and thumb, groaning at your answering cry. Slamming his hips into your tight heat, Shota watches your breasts bounce. Lured in by the hypnotic sight, he greedily sucks your nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud before suckling. He groans around it, sucking hard before pulling off with a wet pop, pleased with the hardened result. 

His dark eyes are on yours, the heat of his gaze burning your cheeks. You can feel your climax approaching, tetering of the cusp of ecstasy. Pleasure burns through your veins, searing throughout your body, only to pool in your lower belly, a swirling, agonising flood of pleasure ready to breakthrough the dam.

"You're mine Kitten" he growls at you with a particularly vicious thrust of his hips, driving his cock deep into your sopping cunt ".. say it"

"I'm yours.."  you whimper around a desperate breath, catching in your throat as you moan "..I'm yours"

" Again!" He barks at you through clenched teeth, frenzied thrusts jutting his twitching cock into your gspot with dizzying accuracy "louder Kitten!"

"I'M YOURS!"  You cry out, nails digging into his back, clinging onto him for all your worth as your orgasm floods trough you at a rapid pace. You moan, loud and throatily as searing pleasure rips through you, stealing your breath. Your pussy clenches around his cock, reluctant to free him from your depths. Your release, hot and as sweet as the pleausre you're drowning in drenches his cock "SHOTA!" 

"Fuck, Kitten. That it.." He growls into your neck, breathing hard against your skin. His hips stuttering as he spills himself deep within you, a deep throaty groan reverberating through his throat. He grinds his sputtering cock into your fluttering walls, letting your pussy squeeze him of every last drop of his cum. "Ngh...that it.."

You're both left panting, clenching fingers slowly softening on eachothers bodies. Shota's fingers digging into your ass slowly relaxes, smoothing his large hands over the swell, caressing up to your hips and thighs, peppering soft loving kisses into your neck, whispering sweet words of praise as you come down from your high. 

"You did so good Kitten, perfect...took me so god damn well" 

He pulls up slightly, resting his dampened forehead against yours, your hot breaths synchronising between you. Shifting you slighty, Shota slowly slides his softening cock from you, hissing slightly when your walls clamp around his oversensitive flesh. He gently lowers you to your feet, holding your waist, ensuring your feet can support your weight. 

"You okay, Kitten?" He asks you softly, tenderly kissing your forehead when you nod. After tucking himself away, Shota carefully rearanges your dress, covering your boosm, pulling the hem down over your ass and down to your thighs. Hands smoothing thier way back up to your waist once you were presentable. Putting a finger under your chin, he directs your face up yo his, thumb gently cleaning up your slightly smeered lipstick while staring into your eyes "You are mine Kitten.. never forget that"

"Always" you breath in return, no doubt in your mind that you were well and truly his.

[slasher-fxcker]

Hihi! I was wondering if you can do billy and stu and just the slashers reacting to their someone being hurt at their job and trying to hide it?

A/N: Okay I was going to do this request for multiple slashers, BUUUUUUT I started writing for Billy and Stu and got carried away. I love them too much

Billy & Stu Reacting to their S/O being injured at work.

Warnings: Swearing, mention of blood, brief mention of killing (but I mean this is the slasher fandom so kinda expected lol)

This blog is 18+, Minors do not interact

GIF by casualwriters

You hadn’t been working at the video store for too long but you loved it, your friend Randy had gotten you the job when they were desperate for staff. It was great for the boys too; Billy and Stu would stop by all the time using the place as their personal hang out much to your managers displeasure.

Every Saturday night the boys would swing by and pick some scary movies to watch together after you finished, unfortunately for them you were going to be stuck doing inventory tonight. As usual Billy wasn’t impressed about having to share your time with anyone other than Stu, “Just blow it off what are they going to do fire you?” you rolled your eyes as you continued getting ready. “Yes Billy, probably.”

Stu got up from his spot in front of the tv to try to pull you back to the couch, “Come on babe, do you really think you should be out at night? Don’t you know there’s a killer on the loose?” You try to supress your chuckle as he raises his eyebrows at you, his usual smirk on his face.

You fake innocence putting on your best fear filled voice, “Oh no, what will I do if Mr. Ghostface comes to get me.” Billy laughs one of his rare genuine laughs before Stu steps closer to you placing his hands on your waist, “I could think of a few things.” Smirking as he notices the way you flush at the suggestion. You lightly smack his chest as he laughs at himself once again before you press a chaste kiss to his lips. You grab your bag, blowing a quick kiss to Billy before heading to the door. “I’ll try to get back in time for movie night, but don’t wait up.”

Inventory was fairly boring, you tried to get it done as quickly as possible while Randy spent most of the night showing you his favourite scenes from various movies. Shoving another handful of popcorn into his mouth he continued his rant, “Come on how can you have lived your whole life without watching this movie? Quick you're gonna miss the best part!”

“Randy unlike you I’m actually trying to get this finished before midnight, now are you going to help me or not?” He sighs before finally getting off his ass and heading towards the storage room, 15 minutes go by and he still isn’t back to help. “I swear to god Randy if you're napping on the kart again I’m going to kill you.” You mutter to yourself as you head to the storage room.

You see Randy sitting on the kart going through a box of movies, you try to get a closer look before he sees you. You noticed the box of X rated movies he was looking at. “Randy you perv!” You didn’t realise you had snuck up on him before he jumped up knocking you into the shelves behind you both. Before you could move a box came off the shelf and fell onto you. Your head immediately pounded “Oh shit, Y/N!” Randy hurries to help you up, moving the various tapes that are scattered around to get you back out into the store, sitting up on the counter Randy starts looking over your head. “Oh shit, you're bleeding. Billy’s going to kill me.” You feel him practically prod at your forehead as you hiss in pain and slap his hand away. He helps you clean up the blood and tells you to go home, “Ill finish up here, it’s the least I can do.” You can see how sincere he is when he apologises. Your only worry is how you're going to explain this to the boys.

You decide to head straight home, hopefully the boys will think you just had to stay too late and will leave you be until tomorrow. That way you would at least have time to clean yourself up and come up with a story.

Looking in the mirror the damage is worse than you thought, the red tint on your forehead of smudged blood, the dried blood in your hairline and the bruising that was already beginning to show around the cut that could definitely not be concealed. You sighed as you wet a cloth in the bathroom sink raising it to your head gently, the pain immediately making you wince at the contact.

You raised your hand to try again when you heard something in your room, you looked out the doorway and saw what you could only assume was the boys sneaking in your window. You panicked and slammed the bathroom door closed locking it behind you. You hear the taller of the two call out to you as he knocks on the bathroom door. When you don’t answer he tries to open the door, “Whys the door locked babe?”

“Sorry Stu, I’m not feeling too well.” You try to sound convincing. This time its Billy that answers, “Come out here and tell us what’s wrong.” “Yeah we will look after you.” Stu giggles as you can clearly hear Billy push him away from the door. You feel bad hiding from them, “No its okay, you should probably go home in case I’m uh infectious or something. Yeah.” Your voice wavers and you know you aren’t convincing anyone.

Stu is quiet for once but you hear the edge in Billy’s voice as he speaks, “Y/N don’t lie to us, get out here.” You know they won’t leave, part of you wonders if it would be dramatic to climb out the window at this point. “Don’t make me break the door down.” You would’ve rolled your eyes but you knew he probably wasn’t kidding.

You slowly unlocked the door before slipping out of the bathroom, still not looking at either of them. You try to hide your face but of course they can see it, Stu is at your side immediately trying to make sure you're okay. He gently inspects the cut careful not to touch it. You try to ignore Billy’s stare but you can feel his eyes on you, looking at him for a second regret fills you when you meet his eyes. Billy might be a murderer but everything he does is so calm and thought out, never out of rage. You wouldn’t know that looking at him now, fists clenched at his side as his eyes narrow at you, gaze shifting between your eyes and the cut on your head.

Stu takes you to sit down on the bed, unsure of how to help you. He might be the most caring person when it comes to you but he’s also kinda hopeless. Billy’s gaze doesn’t leave you as you move around the room. Eventually after what felt like endless silence he walks towards you taking your chin in his hand and turning your face to look at the cut better. “Who did this to you?” Any other time Billy’s over protective tendencies would make you feel secure but seeing him like this, eyes dark and glazed over in anger didn’t bring you any comfort.

“No one did this to me.” He cut you off as his grip tightened slightly, “Don’t fucking lie to me. Who did this to you.” You don’t know what to say, you pull your chin out of his grip and sigh, “I was working with Randy and…” Stu seems to pull you closer protectively as Billy raises his voice again. “Randy did this to you?” Billy hated Randy already for so many reasons but this time Stu is the one to speak up, “That little fucker is going to pay,” he stood up and tried to walk away before you grabbed him, “No! I mean please just stay here with me,” you plead him as you pull him into a hug again, you know just how to stop this big softy from making a stupid decision like trying to kill Randy.

“He’s right. You think he gets to hurt you and get away with this.” Calming Billy down was going to be a harder task, “He didn’t hurt me Billy, we were taking inventory and it was an accident.” He scoffed, “He accidentally sliced your head open.” You walk towards Billy and take his face in your hands making him look at you once again, “It was an accident,” he tries to turn his head away but you bring him back to look at you, “And I’m fine now. I promise.”

You watch him as his eyes flicker from your eyes down to your lips, bringing himself closer to you. You reach up to place a kiss on his lips, slightly surprised when he begins to deepen it. His hands wrap around your waist as he starts walking you backwards towards the bed. You know where this is going and as the back of your knees hit the bed frame you break apart smiling up at him as you think you’ve won this one. He gently pushed you back onto Stu’s lap, the kind look gone from his face as he turns to Stu, “Keep her here til I get back.” Stu only seems to nod and Billy starts walking back towards the window, you suddenly realise what’s happening and frantically try to get out of Stu’s embrace.

“Billy no!” you practically yell at him, stopping him half way out the window, “Please Billy, don’t kill him.” He doesn’t respond as he sends you a bone chilling smirk and disappears out of your room.

[kitasgloves]

Obsessed With You

tracklist

— ♬ "You and me, we were meant to be. We live happily in my fantasy"

— ♬ Erotomaniac! Dazai Osamu x Reader, NSFW, gender-neutral reader, depictions of stalking, obsessive behavior, and masturbation, non-consensual dry humping, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 3.9k words, no beta

— ♬ NOTE: I DO NOT CONDONE, ROMANTISIZE, OR SEXUALIZE WHAT IS DEPICTED IN THIS STORY. EVERYTHING IS A WORK OF FICTION. READER'S DESCRETION IS ADVISED.

Osamu Dazai hums to himself as he smiles at the singular picture plastered on his wall, it was a decently sized photograph of a Yokohama civilian stuck against the wall with tape. His smile erupts wider as he strides closer to the photo, with his limber finger he traces the person's smile in the photograph. After another long moment of staring, Dazai sighs and fetches his coat.

He left his apartment and traveled towards the Armed Detective Agency, his footsteps were particularly bouncy. He deliberately arrived twenty minutes late, before Dazai settled in front of his desk, he got his daily scolding from his beloved co-worker, Kunikida Doppo. His routine went on as usual. He lazed around and folded important documents into paper airplanes to annoy Kunikida, he disturbed Atsushi Nakajima, who happened to be stationed beside him as he disrupted his working hours, and he'd have his daily nap on one of the couches in the office.

For the past several weeks, his mood has been unusually cheery. Dazai's antics grew less but didn't disappear completely (much to Kunikida's dismay). The smile on his face appeared…unsettling if one were to gaze at it for far too long. It was as if his smile never wavered and gave the impression that he was plotting something. But nobody in the agency bothered to ask what he was thinking about, and if any of them were, they doubted he'd tell the truth.

After another day's work, Dazai clocks out early. In addition to his daily routine, he'd stop by the new bookstore a block from his apartment. As he approached the small bookstore, he could feel the pace of his heartbeat quickening. Dazai could feel his breathing hitch at the sight of the figure by the display window. They hadn't noticed him yet and he greedily watched the sight. His eyes traced the curve of their body, he focused on the look on their features as they arranged the books on the display window, and a crooked smile rose on his lips when they remained oblivious to his presence.

You moved to Yokohama several months ago after graduating college. You wanted to start an independent life of your own and thought that Yokohama was a lovely place to begin the journey. Upon arrival, you were admittedly overwhelmed. It took you several days to find a new place and job, it wasn't what you initially envisioned, but it worked for you, nonetheless. A humble apartment for one and a simple job at a local bookstore were enough for you to strive in this new independent life.

The bell rings when a familiar tall figure enters the bookshop, you look up from the counter and flash a beaming smile at the customer. 

"Hey, Dazai"

"Hello, Belladonna"

Dazai wiggled his fingers at you flirtatiously and you laughed, completely thinking he was being satirical as you often do. Ever since you bumped into Dazai while looking for an apartment, he never ceased to call you 'Belladonna'. You have no clue what urged him to call you that nickname, but you figured it was harmless. Dazai was a charming man with dark chocolate hair and eyes, tall and slightly lean, and had his signature bandages wrapped around his arms and neck. You wanted to ask him the reason for those bandages but held your tongue worrying it might be too personal to share.

 "How's your day?"

"Great! And judging from that beautiful smile on your face, you were looking forward to seeing me"

The brunette leaned against the counter and flashed you a flirtatious smirk. You laughed at every flirting and romantic advance Dazai made. Truthfully, you were weirded by him at the beginning. It perhaps had something to do with when you found him climbing out of a river, where he told you he was attempting to drown himself. He clasped both of your hands in that fateful meeting and asked if you wanted to try double suicide with him. You initially thought that he might be on drugs or he's mentally deranged, but you soon discover that he is simply eccentric. Somehow, Dazai has crawled his way into your life and made room for himself, which was both impressive and perplexing.

"Any new suicide attempts for today?"

"I tried swallowing a bunch of unknown pills in Dr. Yosano's office, but I only ended up getting an upset stomach rather than death"

"Serves you right"

"How mean! You know how difficult it is when your stomach's in pain. As I said, I like death, not pain and suffering"

He pouts and you playfully roll your eyes and turn around to organize the newly arrived books. You can feel his gaze on you as you work, but you can't see how he is gazing at you. His eyes were darker, the color of his face was flushed pink, and his smile was...twisted. Dazai watched you like he was a starving man, hungry for something that was not on the menu. His Adam's apple bobbed as he saw you bend over to pick up a stack of books, his hand creeping toward the zipper of his pants. He was about to unzip his pants until you whipped your head around. Immediately, Dazai fixes his expression.

"Do you mind giving me a hand with these books, Dazai?"

"Of course!"

The brunette gingerly strides towards the other side of the counter and assists you in carrying several heavy books into a new empty bookshelf.

"Thanks! I owe you one"

"Oh, no, no, no, you don't need to return the favor"

"Nonsense, how about coffee this weekend, my treat?"

Dazai could feel his heart skip a beat, he couldn't fight off the pleased smile rising on his lips. He takes a step forward and gazes at you with unblinking but glimmering eyes.

"It's a date"

When he hears you laugh as he replies, he feels a twist in his chest. He did adore your sweet laughter, but he didn't like how you laughed at every obvious romantic gesture or comment he gave. God, he's trying to capture your heart! Or was it hard to take him seriously? Dazai chats with you for a while, cleverly distracting you from your duties with his blabbering as he throws one interesting topic and another just to have you hooked on him while he basked in your attention.

Dazai walks home satisfied after spending a few hours with you. Once his apartment door closes, he rushes to shred off his coat and go to bed. He collapses on the mattress with a huff as he hastily pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket. It wasn't an ordinary handkerchief; it was the handkerchief he slyly stole from you earlier while you were distracted chatting with him. Dazai presses the handkerchief against his nose as he greedily inhales your scent trapped against the fabric.

"Hmm, fuck, [Name]"

He moans as he smoothly unzips his pants and frees his growing erection. Dazai lazily strokes his length as he hungrily imprinted your scent in his brain. To think he was about to stroke his cock like this while he was at your workplace made him laugh against your handkerchief. His eyes roll back when he picks up the pace of his hand around his dick, he suffocates himself with your handkerchief as he imagined you were in the room with him, watching him jerk off while his tongue rolled out your name repeatedly.

"[Name], [Name], [Name]—"

He chants your name as he approaches his orgasm. Dazai throws his head back as spurts of his cum coated his hand and abdomen. He goes monetarily limp in his bed, sweating and with your handkerchief still against his nose as he catches his breath. He swiftly cleaned himself up and went to bed. 

Dazai has a picture of you on his wall. He dreams of you when he sleeps. He goes out of his way every day hoping he'll catch you walking down your street. He knows just where you went to school. He knows the names of all your friends. He knows he's got it bad again. An Obsession. Dazai knows your middle name. He has a lock of your hair. He might be a little bit insane because he thinks he can see you everywhere. Nobody can understand, no one can see his point of view. They might say it's gotten out of hand and that Dazai's obsessed with you.

But how must one blame him? It was you. It's your fault because you were so damn insatiable. You attract a primal part in him that he keeps suppressed. You arouse his hunger for your innocence. You feed him with your saccharine smiles. You bring out the twisted side of him that he thought he had abandoned back when he was still in the Port Mafia. But he thinks he has become intensely worse than before. He was greedier, he was willing to take risks just to be around you.

Oh, and he's horrible. He lies to you and pretends to be an eccentric but harmless individual while he masturbates to the mere thought of you returning his growing and twisted attraction. The way you welcomed him each time made him want more than what was possible. He wants to get next to you, he loves all the things you do. He wants to get close to you, you're his dream come true. He wants to have sex with you, your sweet caress won't do. Dazai's obsessed with you, he's obsessed with you.

Dazai is pretty aware of what he's experiencing and what he's doing isn't healthy or acceptable. But denying that he doesn't ache for you is so difficult to do. To deny you is equivalent to mortal sin, he thinks. Everyone at the Armed Detective Agency watched silently as Dazai gingerly hummed a song before clocking out early again, he barely got anything accomplished the past few days. As much as Kunikida wanted to yell his ear off about his responsibilities in the agency, the blonde couldn't help but feel there was something suspicious going around with Dazai that he avoided interacting with him as much as possible. Kunikida's suspicion heightened when the best detective in the agency, Ranpo Edogawa, stopped eating sweets at his desk and looked at Dazai instead with narrowed eyes.

"Belladonna!"

The brunette startles you with an embrace from behind when you are cleaning one of the bookshelves. You yelped and smacked him with a feather duster. How did he sneak behind you? You didn't even hear the bell tingling at the door when he entered.

"What the hell, Dazai!"

"Sorry, did I scare you?"

"I didn't hear you walking in!"

You playfully bantered with him as you continued with your work while Dazai entertained you with nonsensical tales. You listened as his mouth went miles per minute. For some odd reason, you never found his blabbering annoying, nor did you find his weird habits irritating. Somehow, the more you spend time with Dazai, you begin to think he's more than what meets the eye. The following weekend, you and Dazai went out for coffee as promised. He's more enthusiastic than usual. 

Fortunately, Dazai was able to control himself that weekend when he met with you. He dressed himself more appealingly and he made an effort to take a shower then fix his hair to hopefully make you swoon. He was afraid that if he wasn't able to restrain himself the moment he saw you out of your working clothes, he'd pounce at you and eat you whole. Fuck, you looked gorgeous. The way you timidly batted your eyelashes at him punches the air out of his lungs.

"Shall we go in?"

The brunette nodded and followed behind you as you both entered the café. It was a warm morning with a few people scattered amongst the booths. You and he placed your orders and waited for your beverages and food to be served at a table in the corner of the establishment. Dazai felt like he was knocked stupid in the head because he hadn't spoken a word since he saw you. Your smile sets his heart aflame. He felt electrocuted with your eyes. Hell, the very mention of your name, his stomach fills with butterflies.

Once your orders were brought, you began a casual conversation with the brunette. You notice how flushed he looked, his eyes were filled with intensity, and there was sweat trickling down the side of his face. You assume that he caught a fever with the way he's behaving quietly. You settled your coffee down and cast him a concerned look.

"Are you okay? You're awfully quiet"

"Hm? Oh, I'm fine. In fact, I'm feeling great! After all, I'm on a date with you!"

Dazai flashes you one of his charming smiles and you shake your head and chuckle, dismissing your concern for him. You barely notice him touching his coffee or the food you ordered for the both of you. He was hyperfocused on what you were talking about, especially the way your lips moved with every syllable. Dazai naturally stores every piece of information you obliviously give out to him in his head. He can see your hand resting on top of the table, inches away from his, and he's dying to grasp it. He wants to interlock his fingers with yours and steal the warmth from your palm. He needs to cling to your skin. He needs more and all of you. Your heart, your body, and your love.

He thinks, your love is better than cocaine or any drug for that matter. He needs you more than oxygen. Dazai knows he's got it bad again, no, he knows he has grown worse. An obsession. His obsession has escalated out of his control. He knows more than your middle name. He's got personal records of your birth certificate and various important documents. He has more than a lock of your hair, he possesses every item that his greedy hands stole, from chewed pens to used underwear. Dazai thinks he's a little bit insane because he sees you everywhere, he sees you in every corner of his apartment, in the Armed Detective Agency, and in public. He knows his friends won't understand, they cannot see his point of view. Kunikida would just smack him in the head and yell at him to get back to work or Atsushi would just nervously laugh at him and tell him he's just feeling tired. But everything has gotten out of hand, and he's obsessed with you.

"Bye, Dazai!"

"Farewell, Belladonna. Thank you for the wonderful treat"

You smile at him before walking across the street and turning a corner. That cute café 'date' couldn't satisfy his craving. Dazai needed more. And the only way he saw it fit to gain satisfaction was to follow you home. He was undetected by you or anyone as you approached your apartment. When you shut and locked your door, Dazai didn't take it as a sign to leave. Oh no, he hasn't even begun. He wants to get close to you, he loves all the things you do. He wants to get next to you, you are his dream come true. He wants to have sex with you, your sweet caress won't do. Dazai's obsessed with you, he's obsessed with you.

There he was, stealthily breaking into your apartment after expertly picking on the lock. The sick part of it was this wasn't the first time. He has done this multiple times when he got hopelessly desperate. A devilish smile was on his features as he listened outside of your bathroom door, he leaned against the door to press his ear to hear you humming in the shower. He swallows as he imagines your naked and wet body from the other side, it sends his heart into a frenzy.

He spots your discarded clothes on your bed and he waltzes towards them. His eyes zeroed in on your underwear and his hands didn't even hesitate in snatching them before bringing them against his nose. He collapses on your bed and greedily inhales your lingering scent within the sheets and from your underwear.

"[Name]"

He utters your name in a wistful whisper. Dazai lays there as his hand trails down to his pants, he can feel his skin heating, his heart banging against his ribcage with want, and his erection growing in his pants. If only you knew that you were the only one who had this profound effect on him. Nobody has urged him to feel this way in the past. No one was successful in rendering him into this disturbing and deranged being because of their mere existence. It was only you.

Dazai shuts his eyes as he palms his hardened cock in his pants while sniffing your underwear. The risk of you catching him in the act flies over his head. If only you knew that you and he were meant to be. Both of you live happily in his fantasy. Dazai and you go walking down the aisle and you look at him and smile. But suddenly, his alarm clock rings. He wakes up in denial.

The brunette glanced down at his hard erection in his boxers as he discovered he was back in bed in his apartment. Oh right, that happened two days ago. He escaped from your apartment before he could jerk off with your underwear. Dazai shuts off his alarm and runs a hand down his face. He frowned, he wasn't in the mood to go to work today. Nonetheless, he fixed himself and went to the Armed Detective Agency.

Everyone noticed how detached Dazai was behaving. There was a lack of suicidal antics and constant blabbering from the brunette. He just sat on his chair and stared blankly at the laptop screen on his desk. Although he didn't get any paperwork done, Kunikida didn't dare scold him. His eyes can see the eery look of vacancy on his colleague's face. The blonde thought about consulting Ranpo about the matter and even asking him to use his Ultra Deduction to figure out what was going on with Dazai.

Meanwhile, Dazai felt like he was going to burst into complete madness. The obsession he contained and concealed from everyone was choking him. Such intense and twisted emotions can only be controlled for so long that after his shift at the agency, the brunette hastily goes straight to your apartment. He breaks into your apartment as before and sits in your bed in the dark, and there he waits. He waited like a patient wolf waiting for an innocent sheep to arrive.

You felt a cold shiver run down your spine when you grabbed your keys from your bag, you felt unusually hesitant to enter your home. You felt a premonition that something was off. However, you felt exhausted, you needed to have dinner and rest. You shoved the uneasiness in the back of your mind as you unlocked your apartment door, you opened the lights and emitted a relieved sigh when nothing was in disarray. But to your horror, you found a very familiar figure sitting at the foot of your bed.

"Da—Dazai?"

"Hello, [Name]. Can I have a word with you?"

A twisted smile rises on Dazai's lips as he takes in your stunned expression. He watches you stumble back and look at him with horror as if you've witnessed a gruesome murder scene. He knows his calmness about the situation was disturbing you. He predicted that you'd make an attempt to escape, but at the moment, you were too astonished to make up a reply.

"[Name]..."

"...What the hell are you doing in my apartment?"

You finally gained your composure to speak. You sounded both petrified and disgusted. You had the right to feel violated! This guy just broke into your apartment! He must have some wicked scheme prepared. You slowly took a step back and shakily drew in a breath. Dazai chuckles.

"I just want to have a little chat with you, Belladonna"

"You...you could've talked to me after my shift"

"Hm, but I wanted talk in a private place, my dear"

The brunette notices your hands shaking as you avoid his intense stare. A horrible part of him felt aroused at your terrified state. Dazai carefully rises from your bed and stalks towards you like a hungry wolf.

"Get the fuck out of my apartment now, Dazai. This isn't funny"

"I'm not going to do anything bad, [Name]. Don't worry"

"I don't care. Get out, now!"

Your warning goes deaf in Dazai's ears. In a panic, you grabbed your phone from your pocket and dashed out of your bedroom. Unfortunately, Dazai was swift enough to seize your hand and steal your phone from your grasp. With a gasp, you watched him discard your phone on the floor before pulling you into a bone-crushing embrace. He held you from behind, wrapping his long arms around your torso and securing your hands against your sides. You felt a disgusted shudder when his face leaned down to inhale your hair.

"Come on, there's no need to get anyone involved"

"Let me go!"

You struggled. When you feel the brunette laughing darkly from behind, your heart stops. This wasn't the Dazai you met, or he wasn't the man he showed you to be. He wasn't eccentric, he was a fucking maniac. You begin to quiver in his hold as he tries to soothe you by rubbing his cheek against your temple.

"God, you're so fucking perfect"

Dazai reveled at how heavenly it felt to finally have you in his arms. His senses were overstimulated with every part of you. He buried his face against the crook of your neck as he felt himself salivating by your scent alone. He wants to sink his teeth into you and make you scream. While he was lost in his twisted fantasy, he failed to register the fact that you started sobbing.

"Wh—what do you want from me?"

You pleaded with a petrified tone. Your heartbeat stops when his hands begin to roam all over your body. Dazai was breathing heavily against your ear. Your stomach drops when his hips begin to buck against you as you felt his erection rubbing against your ass. By that, you fell into a fit of helpless sobs.

"What do I want? Oh darling, isn't it obvious?"

The brunette whispers against your ear. He couldn't contain himself as he dry-humped his erection against your clothed ass. These perverse emotions he felt for you ate him alive while he was dying to have you. Dazai was beyond redemption. Now, that he has enacted on his desires, it would be impossible to turn back. He greedily places kisses along your neckline and cheek, his teeth grazing against your skin, tempted to have a taste of your flesh. Your sobbing only fueled him as he lost the distinction between right and wrong.

"I want to get close to you. I want to get next to you. I want to have sex with you"

Dazai grunted. You couldn't hold back your crying as he continued to dry-hump against your ass. His confession brought unimaginable disgust within you. Whenever you tried to wiggle away from his strong embrace, he would bite on your exposed skin keeping you in place. You clawed on his arms when he moaned your name against your ear.

"I'm obsessed with you"

Dazai whispered tenderly. You begin to thrash around as he laughs and keeps you in his cruel hold. He wasn't completely blind to the facts. He knew there was no way for you to love him back when he'd done the unthinkable. But he couldn't help it. The intoxicatingly sweet but aching feeling blooming in his chest. He can have you in his arms now but not forever. He knows he doesn't deserve it but he still smiles through it. All he needs is a taste to survive. He'll deal with the consequences later. As you wailed uncontrollably, all Dazai could think about was how lovesick he was of you.

©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)

[demonic0angel]

Hotel AU

Jason groaned, holding a military grade field dressing to his wound as he tried his best to walk faster. Gunshots rang behind him and instinct allowed him to dodge, but one bullet still managed to graze him by the shoulder. It only made pain flare up worse, but Jason just sucked in a breath through his teeth and toiled onward to get to safety.

His comms buzzed in his ear, but no one was available at the moment. Jason still muttered a soft, "Requiring backup."

No one answered.

Jason, for an existential crisis-having moment, wondered if he was gonna die again.

Just as he thought this, a hand grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into another building.

Jason cursed and pulled out his gun with his unfortunately injured hand and pointed it towards his assailant, but then paused.

He had been pulled into a beautiful, first class looking hotel area.

"What the..." he started, before he turned.

An enormously tall woman smiled down at him. She was outrageously beautiful, with long red hair tied into a ponytail and a neat uniform covered by an apron. "Welcome, sir, to the Phantom Hotel! You seem to be in need of some assistance, would you like some help?"

Jason felt eerily calm and level headed, even as he bled all over the floors. "... that'd be nice." He said gruffly.

"Right away, sir." She said with a smile. She waved to someone over to his side and continued to speak. "I'm the co-owner of this hotel, you may call me Jazz. May I get your name for registration?"

Jason still didn't freak out yet. "Registration?" He echoed, as he took in his surroundings.

The hotel was beautiful, with tall ceilings, marble floors, white walls and candle chandeliers that glowed with dim lighting. People that didn't look like Gothamites milled around the lobby and sitting area, all relaxed and chatting amicably. There were a few that were dancing to club music. There was a noticeable bar in the corner of the room that looked unstaffed but was conspicuous in its size and black coloring.

"Yes, sir." Jazz said. "I assume that you're staying the night? We offer breakfast in the morning, and drinks are free all night!"

Jason was silent for a moment. A person wearing a similar uniform to Jazz, with a dark green vest and dark colored apron, approached them and immediately got to bandaging Jason's wounds.

Once again, Jason did not freak. He felt oddly calm, and in the back of his head, he knew that he was safe here. His gut instinct was to collapse on top of Jazz and take a nap, strangely comforted by her presence.

"... why am I so calm?"

Fuck it. He decided to just voice his question.

Jazz giggled. It was a cute noise. "Why wouldn’t you be? There’s nothing to worry about. We're the same, after all!"

Jason blinked. Then he turned to her as the attendant stepped away with the medical box, Jason feeling all healed up, and he said, "Is a night here free?"

"For you? Yep! Everything is free here."

Jason gave a nod. "Then I'll take a room with a single bed, please. Breakfast is free?"

"Yes, sir."

"Great. The name's Jason Todd."

Jazz smiled, a sparkle in her eyes that made Jason feel all fuzzy with warmth. "Very good, sir. Your room number is 312, on the third floor. Here's your room card." She handed over a plastic card that was procured out of thin air but Jason didn't think about it.

He was mentally exhausted and being in her presence made him feel like he was going to drop and fall asleep on the floor and still wake up refreshed. It was so disconcerting that it was almost not disconcerting.

Jason eventually found the elevator, though not without lingering a little around the area. The vigilante in him was telling him to be careful, even though everything else inside of him couldn't give less of a damn and was telling him to kick back and relax. Jazz, after registering him, had gone to the bar to prepare drinks.

She mixed together alcoholic concoctions amidst a small crowd and the more Jason stared, the more it seemed like the dim light was hiding something. People looked like they were wearing ragged clothes and a lot of them had dark stains. There were quite a large amount of old people as well, along with people with seemingly missing appendages.

The last two details wasn't a bad thing, but the amount of them seemed like a hint to something bigger.

When Jazz made eye contact with Jason, she gave a sweet smile and a little wave, and that was Jason's signal to leave.

He got into an elevator, went to his room, and practically sank into the cloud-like bed before he basically knocked himself out. That night, he had never slept so well.

When he woke up, his body felt rejuvenated and he almost felt peppy. It was as if his previous irritations were only bad days and he had finally struck on a good day for once.

He washed up, miraculously found his wounds all healed up, and when he went to take a shower, his clothes were found on the sink, all washed and patched up. Even his helmet had been cleaned and fixed, pristine like the day he had first gotten it.

Jason could've been more suspicious.

But to reiterate, he couldn't.

Everything about this place was like a mother's hug. It was comforting. It made him feel safe. He felt like there was nothing to worry about and although a small part of him found this alarming, he really couldn't explain why he decided to trust it.

When he came down the elevator for breakfast, he was astonished.

Last night, the hotel had looked elegant and high class. Now, in the morning, everything looked warm and homey.

The various large rectangle tables had turned into small round tables that were densely packed together. The floor was a cool blue carpet and the walls had turned a shade of cream. The ceiling had shrank, but now flowers and vines grew from it, dropping from the ceiling with bright blossoms. The bar had been replaced with a little coffee area, with a young man behind the counter, currently taking orders.

The people sitting around and eating their breakfasts looked different in morning light. They glowed with faint shades of blue and green.

Jason paused to take in the sight, considering this information before he shook it off and approached the counter.

The man, after noticing him, immediately went to the cash register with a large smile on his face. "Hello!" He said cheerfully.

Jason immediately noted the similarities between him and Jazz. They had the same heart shaped face, the same ethereal beauty to them, the same nose and smile. This man, however, had bright blue eyes and dark black hair that swept over his eyes.

"What are you drugging me with? I'm way too comfortable here." Jason blurted out.

The man paused. And then he burst out laughing. Jason couldn't help the few snickers that fell out of his throat too, but they both quickly calmed down and the man explained softly, "We're not drugging you. You're just comfortable here because it's where you belong. Don't stress too much."

He continued to smile reassuringly. "Call me Danny. I'm the owner. What would you like to order?"

Jason's eyes flicked to the menu and then he said, "A California club croissant and a caramel latte, please."

"Coming right up, big guy!"

Jason moved a little bit away to the side so that other people could order.

He couldn't help but contemplate what was going on, but it was a little hard to think being this close to Danny's presence. The urge to fight against his soothed mind and the urge to just relax were warring, but unfortunately, his latter side was winning.

If Jazz had seemed comforting and like a hug, then Danny was the blanket, fireplace, hot chocolate cup and book on a cool rainy evening. It was like Danny was his missing piece that just sucked out all of the fear, misery, and rage inside of him.

It was almost crazy how Jason didn't want to retaliate against them at all.

"Here you go, Jason." A voice interrupted him and Jason looked up into crystalline eyes before something was pushed into his hands.

Jason looked down at his order and then up again. "Thanks."

Danny smiled. "No problem! You're pretty freaked out, huh?"

Jason shrugged. Then he thought about it and he asked, "Can I leave?"

"Of course you can." Danny said. "Come back anytime. For someone like you, you have the opportunity to come by anytime you want."

Jason nodded wordlessly and then, with his order in hand, he started walking to the door.

For one last time, he turned and met Danny's eyes. Danny smiled cheerfully, his eyes squinted in happiness. He gave a big wave and Jason returned it before he put on his helmet and pushed past the doors into the open air of Gotham's polluted and smoky world.

The rose glasses fell off and the pink sparkles faded away with each blink.

Jason stared dumbfounded at his own state of body and mind, as his siblings and family all screamed into his ear frantically, begging to know where he went and how he was.

Jason could only stare at the gray, listless world around him and wonder if he had imagined everything.

"What the fuck?"

[fillinforlater]

On her back

Male Reader x Bae Joohyun

Length: 2958 words

Tags: Daddy kink, Master kink, breeding kink, literal breeding, like impregnation, rough sex, mating press (for literal, REAL mating), from loving to degradation, emotional manipulation, teasing, overstimulation, multiple creampies, spitting, toxic relationships

TW: rough impregnation, emotional manipulation, the usual "On her" stuff

Inspiration/Credit: not possible without @sooyadelicacies, my great co-writer and inspirator

(A/N: Reminder that OC is an asshole and that this is fiction. Anyways, rough daddy kink breeding sex, yay. Enjoy a subby!Irene lol. Btw, it's been more than a year since Part 1 came out!)

“I’m here if you need a break from all these youngsters xoxo”

You are alone in the backseat of a Mercedes-Benz, quietly sipping on a cool, refreshing beverage with your airpods in. You need to destress and know just the person to see. You put your drink down and begin to close your eyes, settling in for a quick nap before you arrive at your destination. 

Maybe it was only a few minutes, maybe it was much longer than that, but you feel the car stop and you begin to wake. 

"We have arrived, sir."

Looking out, you find a beautiful secluded home surrounded by lush greenery. One of your many getaways. 

"Thank you, as always," you say politely as the door opens up for you and you're handed your luggage. You stroll up to the door and put in the passcode as well as the biometric scan of your fingerprint. But before you turn the knob, the door already opens and you are greeted by a stunning beauty. 

"Irene," you say simply. 

"Hello, my love."

"It's been a while," you add, a sigh on your lips, but you keep it down.

"It really has," the small woman responds, hands fidgeting on her sides as she just stands there, her boundless beauty that will persist for decades to come filling the air like the strong, vibrant smell of ripe fruits.

"God, you're so fucking pretty." 

This time, the sigh is at least palpable in the aftermath of your words when your arms reach out to her. Joohyun tenses up for a seconds before your embrace reaches her, caresses her back and finds rest on her butt. With ease, you pick the petite idol up and Joohyun's legs instinctively wrap around you.

You kiss her gently, lovingly. "Still tensing up? I thought I trained it out of you?" you tease. 

She blushes. "It's been a long time, Ma—" 

"Shh, not yet. There will be time for that. I need my lover right now, not my toy."

A soft smile on her face. One in a million, quite literally: days and weeks and months go by where she can never feel like this around someone else. They all make her put on the cold, reserved, distant smile, but with you finally by her side, she melts.

At least the temperature of her palms cupping your face is able to melt ice in seconds. Joohyun leans close to you and presses her lips on yours, her passion coming over you in a quiet explosion. A tad bit quicker, a little more tongue when she parts your lips, now you pull her in closer.

"God, I've missed this," she coos and you brush away her astray hair. 

"I have been busy... the young ones are quite—"

"Difficult? Always have been. Think of me back then."

You can't help but smile at the memories, though they also make your cock twitch against its cotton prison. Joohyun giggles. She must feel it poking her exposed midriff. 

"Those were fun times, but you know I'm still as tight as ever, only with more experience now. I promise I'll take away all of your stress today." 

"I know you will. That's why you know of this place. It's a short list, Irene." 

She smiles happily and melts her lips into yours once more.

With her secured around you, you wander off, straight to the bedroom, careful not to bump into anything on your way. There are easily a hundred idols you'd just violently throw onto a bed like this and then destroy their tight pussies, but with Joohyun you remain careful for now. Lay her down on it, never disconnecting your lips.

Joohyun starts to undress immediately and instead of following suit, you decide to watch her. Many months ago was the last time you've seen her bare body—at least in real life, up close. There are dozens of videos you've filmed with her and she even sent nudes last month, a rarity for the outwardly timid idol.

"You're skin," you groan and reach for her bare tummy, then breasts. "Still porcelain, still smooth and perfect."

"Th-thank you. I made sure it's perfect, just for you."

"Not for the fans, not for the members? Not for your own self-gratification?"

"Only for you, my Master."

There she goes. 

"Music to my ears. Hearing such obedience. It's rare to find that nowadays, I wonder if my methods are getting stale?" 

You muse, but she knew it was your way of asking for her opinion, her advice. Bae Joohyun was an intelligent woman and admirable leader after all, and she knew all the tricks in the outside idol world and in your bedroom.

"Are you concerned about the outcome, even with all your leverage? Or is it getting too boring for you?" Before Joohyun can continue, you rub in between her legs, over her modest panties to find a little bit of wetness there. Joohyun opens her mouth; no moan, no breath, she just sinks into the sheets. "I-I just don't see the problem."

"They are just so damn cocky and continue to be. Disobedience, arrogance, self-centeredness, it's all running rampant nowadays."

"We weren't any better back then."

Press a finger onto her pussy lips, the fabric disappearing a bit into the increasingly aroused hole.

"Oh, you think so?"

"Ye-yes, Master. Suzy, IU, Jennie, even I—we were all a lot of trouble for you. I remember the reeducation training with Jessica and Nana. Maybe some things never change—ah, fuck."

Joohyun moans when your tongue trails along the side of her body, up to her collarbone where you place kisses. She is now trapped underneath you and with all your experience and ease, you join her in her (almost) nude state. 

Instead of your finger you place a knee on Joohyun's covered heat and she instinctively grinds on it and loses herself in needy, desperate, good girl whines. She starts to pout and you rake your fingers through her hair like—

"Like in good old times." Your deep groan fills Joohyun with love.

"Yes, Master."

"You know how to grind on this knee. You know how to make yourself look submissive. You know how to combust into nothing but bliss when I just command you too.

"Don't you, Irene?"

"Y-yes, Master! You're so good to me."

Joohyun hesitates and whimpers for a moment, looking at you. 

"Master… call me Joohyun please. Irene is for everybody else, but I am Joohyun and I am yours, my Master. Your whore, your slave." 

The shortlist came with perks. She could make such requests of you. 

"Jennie was one of the worst, but she is one of my biggest sluts, so I guess it only makes sense." You think out loud. 

"Joohyun, is it true Red Velvet will have their last comeback soon?" 

She can only nod and hum. 

"I'll have to fuck you after then too… to breed you." 

Her eyes widen and you feel a great dampness in her folds. 

"Master, it will finally be my turn?" 

"We've discussed this before." 

"I-I know… but I said you could breed me before then. You know I would give up my career for you, Master. I only wish to be your cumdump."

There she goes, melting into a shape you have foreseen years ago. Of course she has been ready for it, but the time is right right now.

"Good girl."

You pull aside her panties and give her pussy lips tiny smacks. Joohyun starts to mewl and whimper in this perfect pitch, the pitch only your hand can make her reach.

"M-Master, hng!"

"This hole is ready to be bred." Indeed, you find it to be exceptional compared to even to your best youngsters, perfect, especially the wetness is extraordinary. "Now spread your legs and tell me how much you need it."

"Master, I've needed it since I underwent your training. I didn't allow any man to touch me but you, Master. I am pure. I-I stopped any form of contraceptive. I've been waiting. I'm ready to walk away from being an idol because all I want is you, Master. I see comments online, I know people call me Mommy because of my age and looks, but the only Mommy I want to be is for your child, Master. Breed me please. I am your good girl. I always have been. This whore, this slut, needs her Master to complete my training, to make me your breeding bitch."

You deem these words to be enough, excessive even. There was no need for all of them to be said out loud, you could clearly see it in her eyes, the wanton desire for your cock creaming inside her.  Some people might call it cruel to her, but the last person to call it cruel is Joohyun herself.

You penetrate her gracefully, something she has not experienced ever. There was always a need to destroy her pussy; after all, Joohyun was once a defiant bitch. Nothing of this is left as she ecstatically welcomes you inside, dopamine flushing her brain, passion in the way she moans, laughs when you bottom out.

"Daddy!"

"Squeeze tight, Joohyun. I need you to make me cum as often as you can and keep it all down, so you better be the tightest girl ever tonight."

"I'm Daddy's tight girl, just breed me and I'll not lose any of your seed."

"Stick your tongue out."

Joohyun does as told and you let some of your saliva spill out onto your tongue before it oozes down to her. You always found her cock drunk expression thrilling, this one probably being its greatest form when you start to thrust into her as she still tries to catch your gift.

She pouts, as your saliva misses her just a bit and drips on her body. 

"If they saw you now—Irene, everyone's ice queen—reduced to nothing but my personal whore, a Daddy and Master kink too? Some people think you're a bitch in how you behave and treat others. They are right in a way, aren't they darling? 

“You are my bitch.”

"Ma-Master, you are right," Joohyun moans, her response interrupted by ragged breaths. "I-I'm your bitch, a bitch in heat. Do-do you like the hot pussy of this ice slave?"

Has she always been this humorous? A circle around her clit, just a rub, and her eyes are wide open. Joohyun looks so different in bed, a different kind of gorgeous from her stage presence during songs with the velvet-concept. You appreciate both, but this is clearly your favorite.

"Good that it's still tight," you groan and pound her harder. "I bottomed out a thousand times and still your grip is... fuck."

"Yes, Master, please praise my pussy more!"

"Isn't this enough praise, bitch?" you say in rhythm to slower but significantly harder thrust, the type to make inexperienced girls limp and screaming. Not Joohyun, she takes it well, though her voice still breaks at the rough pleasure forced upon her needy sex.

Joohyun stretches her arms out, holds onto the frame of the bed while you force her feet further apart and higher in the air. She looks stupid, an embarrassing position for an idol of her class to be in. 

"Yes, Master!" she suddenly howls when your finger presses into the flesh of her thighs. "I don't want to dance anymore, make me unable to dance!"

"When I'm fucking done with you, don't even think about getting out of bed." You lean down to her sweaty, burning face and nibble at her jaw. "Don't move on your own before I've filled your entire womb!"

"Yes, Master.” Joohyun struggles to catch her breath, her words somewhere up in the air along with your face deliberately drooling down on her. “It's time isn't it? Please make me pregnant. I've been waiting for so long, Master, I've been patient and good—" 

"In due time, Joohyun, but you will take it all the way in your womb until you're dripping and spilling seed everywhere. One day.” Your promise is sincere, partially because Joohyun’s rippling pussy has your voice a bit strained. Rejecting her would be pointless, really, her pussy could just will you in and if she’s really not taking contraceptives— 

“I've heard your contracts are up in the air. Are you really going to throw it all away for your Master?"

Joohyun puckers her lips for you to kiss, barely able to squeeze out words through them and her forced out moans.

"Yes, M-Master! I don't care about the contracts, I only want your child."

"Then show me that cute little face," you say, teasingly leaning down to her lips searching for yours but not getting them. "The one you make when you cum on my cock like the good slut I trained you to be."

Joohyun is almost at that point of peak devotion, where she can almost will herself to an orgasm just from your command, but it's still too many almosts. You still have to lay a hand on her clit, the other on her waist and move both your hips and hands in quick, stimulating fashion until Joohyun squeaks like it's her first time in your bedroom. 

The night you tamed her, many, many moons ago, was a great achievement, because you know she would still be drop dead gorgeous when you decide to do this to her. Without giving Joohyun any signs of your imminent orgasm, you cream her the moment the pleasure over takes her. 

Her cute expression of bliss and submission to your superior frame is flooded with ecstasy and pride when you flood her cavern and womb with a thick load that is meant to stick inside her and eventually form a baby. Joohyun frantically holds onto your arms stabilizing her ever twitching body, her glassy eyes looking at you in reverence and servility. 

"Th-thank you, Master," she whispers, her face and chest flushed with happiness, both a bit puffed from pride and soreness as her walls still milk you. "It feels so warm."

"I know what you're feeling," you coo into her ear and feel her burn up even more. "Finally, no condom, no contraceptive, nothing blocking my seed from blooming in your tight tummy. Every orgasm before this pales in comparison, because this one was real.

"So I'm giving you more."

"Ma-Master, I don't deserv—ahh!"

You put every vampire to shame when you furiously bite down on a pale sweet spot between Joohyun's neck and shoulder. Unlike vampires however, the faint taste of blood pulls you back to reality, that it's better to just fuck Joohyun's cum-filled cunt deeper than getting your teeth into her deeper. Nonetheless, the euphoric girl has both arms around you and tightly clings to you.

"Ma-Master," she cries out. "I ca-can't take it any-anymore."

"Don't care," you growl, empathy foreign to you. "I don't care if your pretty feet or legs or hips go numb. You'll take my cock until I want to stop."

You glare at her, eyelids hiding sniveling, tears begging for mercy as once again, overstimulation breaks her. What a weakness to still have. It’s part of Joohyun, sure, but you thought she would’ve grown past it, especially for this moment.

"You wanted this Joohyun. You wanted Master to breed you. You begged for it, don't you fucking bitch to me now. Did I make a mistake in choosing you? Are you really ready to give up your idol career if you can't handle me like this?" 

Every word sliced into her. It's been ages since you broke her down like this, not just physically and sexually, but verbally. It was like she was your trainee all over again, a dominant, crushing hand on her throat, an unrelenting pelvis crashing down on hers.

"I will fuck you for however long I want..." 

You pause for a moment and choke her even harder. 

"Suzy can take it. Why can't you?"

"I can, Daddy!” Joohyun screams, finally fighting for herself against herself. “Make me a baby mommy, don't listen to my stupid mouth. You, you own this pussy!"

Feel Joohyun's pussy struggle to take all the cock and cum when you fold her to a painful degree and watch her face become just a canvas for tears. It's also red, like her bleeding shoulder or her round butt which you spank over and over again, red like her sore pussy lips or her insides. 

"Good thing that you're still tight," you scold Joohyun and spit at her face. "At least your pussy is trying to make your real dream come true."

"Master, I'm cumming."

"Shut up. I don’t care. Put your own fingers around your throat. Spread your pussy lips. Look at me, while I destroy you.

"While I end your career, Irene."

A second load, pumped and mixed into the first and ultimately overflowing from Joohyun's gaping hole. The moment you pull out, she knows that this will be it. She is going to be pregnant, no way around it.

You gently cup her face, look at an expression of bewilderment, hurt, happiness, sadness, pain, confusion. Not the first time that you've destroyed a young woman like this while making her pregnant. A kiss to ease the pain a bit, she thinks, but it's just a set up for a reality check.

"I'm a bit disappointed," you tell her. "I needed your full devotion, but it seems you have forgotten how to take a second load.

"That said, I don't regret it. You're beautiful and ready. I think your group deserves one more comeback, then you can tell them what happened."

"Th-thank you, Daddy."

"You can stop choking yourself, by the way."

"Yes, Daddy. I-I love you."

[ovaryacted]

i truly love shen he’s exactly the kind of levelheaded guy you want on your side and idk i think he’d be great at helping you destress and relax if you catch my drift lmao

─ John Shen x fem reader

CW: MDNI/18+. NSFW. Established relationship themes (kinda). Shen being a dependable bf. Mentions of Jack Abbot being a mentor (cause duh!). Pussy eating. Y'all know the drill!

YES! Both Shen & Abbot have that appeal to them, they're cool and collected in high stress situations, at least from what we've seen cause we know Jack has his own mental health issues and manages them, we don't know much about Shen yet. This feeds my personal headcanon that Jack had some influence or part in Shen's medical training at The Pitt, and tbh I have no doubt that Abbot was a mentor to both Shen & Ellis so the way they handle medical care is different than with Robby who is still a great physician but doesn't handle his emotions especially grief particularly well and I don't blame him. (I actually think Robby was put into the attending position right after Adamson's death and didn't have the proper time to grieve or process that change so he's under a lot of stress especially in a "post Covid" world.)

ANYWHO! Yes, Shen to me is the laidback guy that knows what he's doing and is both a good teacher (cause of Abbot) and a very reliable physician. His general attitude shouldn't be confused for incapability, but quite the opposite. He's smart as shit, and also a smart ass, but that's what has me gravitating towards him. He's the real prince of The Pitt, and Francis Anthony Langdon is the Ken Doll lolz (but very smart too).

Shen's approach to teaching helps you get through your residency, he lets you come to your own conclusions, corrects you if needed and isn't harsh about it. He guides you the same way Jack taught him, by walking you through things and letting you find your own confidence to take care of your patients. Thing is, you excel in emergency care, you're good, almost too good sometimes and it fills Shen with pride, and by extension Jack because he knows his teaching style is paying off. The old man is just glad the next generation of physicians have no problem using his education techniques.

But stress? Oh that was a killer. When your mind ran too fast and you were on the verge of burning out, when the walls felt like they were closing in around you and you were running on fumes, so close to collapsing in on yourself for working too damn hard. Sometimes, things just get to be too much for you.

And Shen? He sees it all, and he's already running checklists in his mind on what was needed.

The second you both get home, no questions asked, he walks you through fulfilling your needs. He acts like an extension of your brain and nervous system, starting off with the basics: food, shower, and magnesium glycinate gummies to get you to calm down. After those three things are taken care of, it really depends on your energy levels on what happens next. Too sleepy? It's nap time, he'll pop in some ASMR for you to listen to and lets you knock out until the next day with a kiss to your forehead. If you have to work in a few hours, he'll set your alarm up for you, and if you do have the day off, he creates the most zen environment to make sure you sleep well and deeply.

But if you needed something else? If you needed that little extra attention, he'll give it too.

"C'mon. Be a doll for me and open up." John mumbles above you, shifting your legs and spreading them a bit to make room for his head. "Wasn't so hard right?"

The first kiss on your clit makes you whine, too tired to moan any louder. Your eyes flutter closed, humming with every gentle pass over your slick cunt, his tongue petting over your lips with an affection only he'd be capable of. You shudder when he sucks around the sensitive bundle of nerves, instinctively widening your legs for him and reaching down to curl a hand in his hair, keeping him in place as your body sinks into the mattress.

You could feel him grin against your thigh, placing a wet kiss against your skin before focusing on your pussy once more.

"Just sit back and enjoy it. I'll have you sleeping in no time."

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