#especially when there seems to be so precious few of you against everything

[biceratops7]

hold- wait a fucking minute...

Beelzebub is acting really freaking weird in this scene.

Ok so I encourage you to rewatch it cause I can't really properly illustrate it in gifs, but they don't sound irritated, or even particularly intimidating. We know Beezlebub to be a very dry person, even in moments they want something and need to manipulate/ convince someone for it. So this abnormally animated and even somewhat friendly demeanor doesn't strike me as part of buttering Crowley up to get him to help them.

This is a weird line. We know Beelzebub isn't like Shax, they've been around a bit more and have a better grasp on things like tone and figurative language. There's almost no way they're unaware that saying this would immediately clue Crowley in to the fact that Heaven and Hell do in fact have communication, so they must want him to know. For whatever reason, it's important to them that Crowley knows they're a reputable source.

And then I remembered where I've heard that tone before.

It's nearly the exact same one Crowley uses to tell Aziraphale that he needs to protect them. It's the kind of tone you use when you need someone to read between the lines and understand more than you can safely tell them. Beelzebub is fully ready to believe Shax when they say Gabriel's in the bookshop, and acknowledge later that Aziraphale was a very fitting and likely candidate to harbor him. They know full well Crowley doesn't want jack shit to do with Hell, and would probably be offended if anything by anyone referring to his "nasty little heart". That is merely a performance to mask what they're really trying to tell him, which is that Aziraphale is in danger.

Without this detail Crowley very well could've turned Gabriel in to Heaven instead of Hell, he certainly doesn't see much difference between the two. Beelzebub is the reason he decisively doesn't, and races home in a panic.

And I think it's genuinely so sweet, this moment of understanding and comradery between them that goes unnoticed, even to Crowley. They drop the shtick and make sure that he knows the book of life is a real threat, and you only need to be merely involved in hiding him to be erased from it. Because to them, there's also the very real possibility that Crowley knows about Gabriel while Aziraphale doesn't, so they're double checking Crowley will not to tell him and instead go straight to them. There’s just something so protective in it.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Delicate

Homelander x F! Reader

Summary: You and Homelander have been official for a while now, but you have yet to understand why things never went beyond a certain line.

Warnings: slight angst, slight manhandling, somnophilia, masturbation, explicit smut, praise kink, dirty talk, oral sex

A/N: not proofread as always bc I cringe at my own writing. take it or leave it

Homelander had never learned how to be gentle.

Of course he knew how to touch someone without breaking them if necessary, but there's limits to his self-restraint. Especially when it came to the intimate kind of encounter.

This sadistic side of his was an expression of his desperate need for control, an inability to truly let himself fall and be vulnerable with another person.

For decades his mantra was that normal humans only exist for supes' - and mostly his - entertainment. Your weakness was his thrill, the sheer difference in power so ridiculously high that you might as well be filthy bugs - and Homelander was like a cruel child with a magnifying glass.

Usually his mates were supes themselves and even they could barely handle his violent urges, but you are a mere human. So fragile and precious that it terrified him at times.

What if he loses control in the heat of the moment? What if he breaks you? Or even worse: What if you see him for the monster he really is and run away like everyone eventually does?

A while ago Homelander heard the story about Ice Princess' fling, some Vought employee nobody. She accidentally froze his penis off during climax. Hilarious, honestly. The first time he heard this story he had a very good laugh, and he still can't look that guy in the eye without cackling when he passes him in the hallways.

But now, being romantically involved with one of those weaklings himself, the possibility of something similar happening to you made his stomach turn...

...but of course, as Homelander always does, he chose to ignore the problem at hand instead of addressing it.

Why bother with an unpleasant conversation if he can just prolong this innocent, chaste bond for as long as possible? He'd rather have you like this than unnecessarily putting you into harm's way.

You on the other hand slowly but steadily grew impatient with your boyfriend.

At first you thought he was merely being chivalrous, but it's been three months and still nothing. He's famous, so you had involuntarily learned about his past affairs - and he's definetly not old-fashioned.

Then why is he hesitating so much?

Most of the time you don't dare talking about what's bothering you, simply because any issue of yours seemed so insignificant compared to the horrible things John's been through.

Admittedly, he once literally lasered a guy's head into mush just for throwing a can to his son's head. So while his reactions can be a bit unpredictable, John cares so deeply about the few people he loves that you want to spare him any more trouble.

Unhealthy way of handling things, admittedly.

Last week you had planned it all out: What you could only describe as the perfect date was supposed to continue in his apartment, and you could literally see all blood flow from his brain to nether regions as you entered the bedroom in finest lingerie.

Anyways, you had initiated several times up until now, and initially he'd always go along with it. However as soon as your make-out-sessions turn more heated, he'd abruptly end them and practically storm off.

Everything went so well at first, with you straddling his waist and tentatively grinding against his lap. His hands moved against his will as his resolve crumbled, finding the curves of your body and relishing in the feeling of your exposed skin under his gloves. His jaw clenched as he fought the urge to go all out, fearing dangerous consequences.

A proper dosage of pain can function as aphrodisiac, at least in your opinion. So you didn't tell him to stop, in fact your senses were too clouded by desire to even notice the way his fingers dug into the cushion of your hips.

Yet there was just the tiniest microexpression, just the fraction of a second where your heart sped up and your face contorted in pain...

...and Homelander, shocked with himself, threw you so frantically off of his lap, you landed face firsr on the floor instead of the bed.

Against all reasoning, you laughed hysterically at his not-so-subtle rejection, and god knows you'll tease him about it until forever. But also, understandably, on the inside you were as hurt and confused as never before.

Doesn't make it any better that your boyfriend had been avoiding you like you were the goddamn pest ever since.

Just like today, when Homelander comes home to you way past midnight, double checking with his x-ray-vision whether you were already fast asleep.

John was aware that this topic has been tormenting you for a while now, and while he never intended to hurt you - quite the opposite, really - he also clung to this pleasant illusion he had created with you.

Lucky at cards, unlucky in love, or so they say.

The course of his life had convinced him that all remotely good things happening to him will be taken away again. A farce prepared by destiny itself just to mock him, maybe evening out the scales since he had been blessed with too much power.

On days as shitty as this one however, nothing compares to having someone to come home to - even when he made sure that you weren't awake to confront him. He tosses his boots aside, grateful for you to be a sound sleeper as they fell to the floor with a loud thump.

Your boyfriend's heart sinks as he pulls up the blanket, being greeted by a handprint-shaped bruise on the side of your hip. Seems like it still hurts too much to sleep on that side. His fingertips run over the dark purple-ish mark, a pained groan escaping your throat when he gives in to the temptation to squeeze your ass.

He really is the worst.

Homelander freezes until he's certain you continue sleeping undisturbed, the sound of his own heart hammering against his chest drowning out all other noise. His palm is still lingering on your body, running up and down your sides and earning relieved sighs in return.

Before you'd feel his excitement too much, he manages to tear his body away from you, his erection twitching painfully as he rolled onto his back.

John really had pure intentions when he embraced you from behind, simply wanting to distract himself and fall asleep while cradling you in his arms - yet instead his already hard cock buries itself neatly between your thighs, the friction making him utter vile things.

Damn it Y/N, why the fuck do you always sleep in underwear only?! Is it to taunt him or to test his limits? Because it's working.

A breathy moan escapes his lips as he spread his legs wide, cock already leaking precum when he ran his thumb across the slid. He grabs it fiercely, pumping hard to make quick work of it, while roaming every inch of your skin he can get his other free hand on.

"Need some help with that?"

Shit.

ShitshitshitshitSHIT!

Seems like he was a little too busy with getting off - so much that even his heightened senses didn't catch you waking up to this scene. Your boyfriend had a habit of sleeping naked, so right now there was none of what he did left to the imagination.

"Heyyy sweetheart..." John tried to put on his trusty showman attitude, an awkward grin stretched across his face while trying to cover himself with the next best pillow. "Sorry babe, didn't wanna wake you up. Just go back to slee-"

"And miss out on the show?" you chuckle half-sleepily and he wants to die. He's done worse things in his life, way worse to be precize - so why is he fucking shy nowy just because you caught him? "Aww, you're blushing." He contemplates lasering your lips together to make you shut up.

"C'mon, John, I know you're holding back for some reason, but we don't have to go all out." Shuffling closer to your boyfriend, you give him those damn doe-eyes he can never say no to. "And I'd love to lend you a hand, if you know what I mean."

John instinctively closes his eyes as your face moves closer, lips eagerly awaiting yours...

...but just when you were about to touch him, he takes a hold of your wrist. "Y/N, I-" he shakes his head, trying to regain his composure. "Just- just let me go to the bathroom, okay?"

You frown. Worse, the humiliation makes tears dwell in your eyes. Pushing your partner is wrong, but without context you really start doubting yourself here.

Suddenly the stench of fear was lingering in the air, and your heart starts racing like a hummingbird. Trying to calm yourself was a fruitless attempt in front of a man that could perceive almost anything, even your pathetic strangled sobs.

So he was right: You're afraid and maybe even disgusted by his behavior, and just offered yourself to placate him.

Maybe he should just snap your neck to escape the inevitable heartbreak.

"A-Are you cheating on me?"

"Huh?" That question caught him off guard. He was prepared to hear anything, seriously all kinds of insults or accusations, but that? "Are you dense? Why the fuck would I cheat on you?"

And that's when it dawns on him: You are scared - but not of him.

To your defense, he did have a reputation of not being able to keep it in his pants. Maeve had remarked that fact more than once so you wouldn't forget. And him constantly being swarmed by the prettiest celebrities didn't do any good to your self-esteem either.

You're scared of him leaving you.

"Then what is it?" you sniveled, shrinking into yourself as you hugged your own legs. Seeing you like this and knowing he's responsible was somehow even worse than his earlier apprehensions. "You always react as if you got burned whenever we touch. Did I do something wrong, or- or am I not attractive enough?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" John scoffs in an almost irritated tone, unable to refrain from rolling his eyes. Comforting people didn't really come easy to him, even if he hated himself for not being able to let the shielding facade drop just this once. "You're gorgeous and you know that! C'mon, you women are always causing arguments out of thin air. Stop making this about yourself, would y-"

Seeing your glossy eyes turn into a glare at his ramblings made him shut up immediately, but the damage has already been done. "You know what, I'll-" For a while, you sit on the edge of the bed thinking and with every passing second of silence, Homelander's anxiety skyrockets. "I think it's better if I sleep at my own place for a while."

That's exactly what he's talking about, damn it! The line between control and insanity is a thin thread, and he is not willing to take any chances - when it comes to you at least.

"No!" he almost screams at you, jumping up from the bed and pointing a warning finger at you. "You're not going fucking anywhere!" When he sees your wary expression John's eyes soften, instantly regretting his outburst.

Why does he always fuck up? Why can he never seem to keep what makes him happy? Why can't he be what you need?

Homelander buries his face in his hands, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself just like you taught him. "Look, I-" He reluctantly put his hands on each of your shoulders and when you don't flinch away, he starts rubbing circles on your back. You always do it for him when he's upset, so he figures maybe it can help you too. "Please...I'll tell you the truth, okay? Just...don't leave."

You turn around to face him, nodding mutely as he wipes a tear from your cheek with his thumb. Seeing you cry was gutwrenching, moreso when he was the reason. "I..." he helplessly gestures around, wishing there was a script to this like he was usually provided. "I tend to become...rough."

"So?" The initial hurt now turned into confusion, suspicion even about whether he was telling the truth. You defendingly cross your arms, like a barrier so you wouldn't falter before you got answers.

"I'm not made out of glass." Compared to his strenght, you might as well be. "And I can talk. If you become too wild I'll let you know."

Stubborn as always. But he loved that about you, too. "It's not that easy, Y/N." His head falls in defeat and exasperation. John's about to cry himself, and he hates you seeing him anything less than perfect. "I'll hurt you, and then you'll hate me. Or worse..."

Consciously ignoring the worse part, you cup both sides of his face, making him look up to meet your eyes. "John..."

You straddle his waist again, feeling relief now that you finally understood. Peppering kisses across his face and neck you whisper "I was so, so worried you had grown tired of me..."

"Never." Homelander wasn't someone to apologize often, let alone sincerely. The times he did ever since leaving the lab he can count on one hand.

But despite him being...well, him, John knows best what it's like to be plaqued by insecurities. He hugs you tight enough to make you feel the sincerity of his words. "I only wanted to protect you. I never wanted to make you feel this way."

"Next time talk to me from the start, okay?" You smile softly as he aggrees, and he doubts to be deserving of all your sympathy.

Your hands never leave his body, featherlight touch reassuringly calming his nerves. And yet together with the fact that the only thing currently separating your bodies was your thin panty, it was no wonder that his body reacted the way it did.

A moan disrups your conversation when his cock stiffens again, and you can't help but buck your hips against him in response. Your panties were already soaking anyway, due to the friction and his dirty little deed earlier.

The scent of your lust wipe all negative emotions from your boyfriend's mind, replacing them with something else.

"I want you, John" you breathe against his ear and he whines. "We could just take it slowly..."

"I don't know how" he admits, and you smile at his reluctant aggreement. Gently being shoved down on his back again, it feels like he melts beneathe your fingertips. "Then I'll teach you."

Goosebumps rise on his skin as your fingertips ghost over his body, and you lean over for a longdue kiss, so tender and affectionate John thinks he will fall apart.

Homelander's groan gets swallowed by your lips as you pull your panties aside, slick folds now grinding against his cock. Your name falls from his lips in meek whimpers and you refuse to believe this wonderful man could ever harm you.

"Let me take care of you." Shit, how do you always know exactly what to say?

Raking your hands through your hair as you sit up, air gets stuck in Homelander's throat at the sight, making him choke.

You look fucking magnificent.

Hell, he'd pay an artist to paint you like this so he could look at it forever. If only it didn't require another person seeing you naked...

"You know, I thought it was just my imagination..." A mischievous smile plays on your lips now that you think of it. "But my panties have been disappearing a lot lately."

Your boyfriend didn't respond anything else but a whimmer, shame washing over him at being caught. Not that he was really subtle to begin with.

"Speak up" you tease, giving his shaft a soft squeeze and he instinctively thrusts into your hand like a dog in heat. "Did you use them to get yourself off to your fantasies, huh? Naughty boy." His cock twitches in your palm at the words. "From now on, I want you to come to me for release. Always."

"I trust you" you add as doubt is clearly written on his face, voice firm and as unwavering as your loving eyes, driving tears into his own. You lower yourself on his cock, savouring the feeling of being filled out like this. "Mhh...you feel so good inside of me. Will you behave, John?"

"Y-Yes..." was all he managed to wring out, since it takes every ounce of strenght inside of him to not cum to your sweet affirmations right away. John clutches the bedframe so hard that it crumbles under his grip, but to his surprise you don't wince at the sound - quite the opposite, it shot a wave of heat right through your core.

"John...look at me." You guide his hands away from his eyes to cup your breasts instead, looking at him like he's the best fucking thing in the world. The intensity of your gaze causes him to shiver, makes him wanna hide.

Yes, this is too good to be true.

Whatever you see in him right now he will taint with his own hands given time.

And yet he can't stop anymore, now that he's aware of the depht your love helds for him.

You read him like a damn book, noticing his internal struggle so you silence the voices in his head with a passionate kiss. "So good for me, John" you cheer him on, moving your hips at a low pace.

Tension finally leaves his body and he dives his tongue into your mouth, groaning deeply as he moves his body alongside yours. His touch was careful yet bruising, sending pleasant tingles down your spine.

"I love you, John" you cry out as your foreheads touch, eyes never leaving his. "I love you so damn much!"

That declaration was enough to drive him over the edge.

Homelander pulls you as close as close as humanly possible when he stills momentarily, jackknive-like thrusts chasing after his high. The sounds he made as you got filled up bordered on obscene, as did the amount of cum spilling out of you.

"Shit" he speaks breathlessly against your skin, covering a bitemark he had just caused with kisses. "M'sorry..."

And yet he wasn't willing to let go off of you just yet, this amazing orgasm unable to ward off the embarassment of his poor performance.

"Never apologize for having a good time, silly" you chuckle, brushing your nose against his. "I'm flattered, if anything."

John never knew that sex could be so...satisfying, more than just physically. Filled with carefree laughter instead of expectations.

After all, he was conditioned to never wanna disappoint.

"Nah-a-ah." You yelped as he spun you around effortlessly, now him being the one howering over you, bearing his canines like a starved predator. "I refuse to let my goddess go unworshipped."

"John...I'm okay, really. Sex between lovers is not just about that..." And yet when he opens your legs, you don't resist.

He bets you taste just as fucking good as you smell, feisty little thing. Driving him crazy all those weeks. Do you have any idea how hard it was to endure this sweet torture for your sake?!

A shiver runs down your spine when he licks his lips at the sight of your leaking entrance, taking a deep inhale. There's a hunger in his eyes that no sane person could ever comprehend - but you indulged in it, craved in his twisted kind of love.

Heh, you were a goddamn freak just like him all along, isn't that right?

Homelander takes his time kissing a path down to your navel, admiring the marks he left on your body he was now able to see as the lovebites they are. He briefly looks up to assure himself of your consent, an answering smile all he needs to continue.

"Myyyy tuuuurn" he chants so cheerful, you almost thought he had put on his formal persona.

A relieving finger finally has mercy and slides into your already overstimulated sex, making you arch your back when he curls it inside. Pleads and curses falling from your lips as he enters a second one and then another, and you desperately try to move yourself deeper onto him.

"Attagirl!" Seems like his confidence has returned, at least judging by that damn smug smile his tone indicated. The frustrated pout you wore right now was so adorable, he decided to end your misery and bury his head between your legs as well.

You were still fucking yourself on his fingers while he relished the taste of himself on your pussy, before enveloping your clit with his tongue. "That's my fucking girl right there" he mouths as he ate you out, pumping his fingers keenly on your weak spot he so easily found. "Come on, I want to hear you."

When you came it felt like you were ascending to the afterlife, screaming his name at the top of your lungs before collapsing into the sheets.

Your legs had long since gave out but John put them over his shoulders, humping the mattress while his tongue still ran over your nerve endings, shooting jolts of overwhelming pleasure through your system.

"Oopsie" he coos, a predatory glint in his eyes as he crawled on top of you again, his kiss giving you a taste of your own spent. "Made me hard again."

You eyes flutter open after the last bit of your climax had ebbed out, exhausted yet invitingly batting your lashes as your limbs entangled once again.

"Seems like I found the Homelander's weakness."

[kyushiblast]

⤷ 〝 jealous much? 〞

➞ pairings : grusha , arven , & jacq ( separate ) x gn! reader

➞ summary : how they react when jealous.

➞ genre : fluff

➞ cw / other : nothing

➞ a/n : need requests y’all

❝ grusha ❞

— ♥ the incident of his career hadn’t just affected him physically, a mental toll was in state along with it including his bit of possessiveness for you.

— ♥ he can’t help it. after all, you’re on his list of most cherished. and as cheesy as it sounds, he’d hate losing someone so precious to him as he’d lost his occupation.

— ♥ so when he sees this person shamelessly hitting on you, of course he’s going to step in and say something.

— ♥ glaseado mountain has a few forms. sometimes calm, sometimes sharp and unforgiving as if mad at the people climbing its skin. grusha’s cold persona towards the person embodied that.

— ♥ would probably threaten to pokémon battle. just because he’s an ice type gym leader doesn’t mean that he’ll just have ice type pokémon on hand every time, so he’d most likely use varieties including those you’ve traded with him.

— ♥ he’ll be levelheaded as much as he can until the other person initiates a snap or an aggressive show, but either way in the end he’ll definitely come up to you and ask if you’re okay.

— ♥ expect a brief hug after, and maybe a few kisses or two. he’s not too big on pda, especially if some people come by to watch him battle and he’s waiting for the area to clear up.

— ♥ but the best part is him being in denial about being clingy afterwards. that’s when teasing him is essential.

❝ arven ❞

— ❀ he’s the type to be suspicious and accusatory first, ask later.

— ❀ will cross his arms and be sassy. maybe something like, “is this person bothering you, (y/n)? i can deal with ‘em.”

— ❀ when he’s jealous he’s obvious. he’ll pull you in more, scowl and throw sarcastic comments at the other person, and he’ll suggest to go somewhere else.

— ❀ WILL throw in a regular pokemon challenge to the other if it gets to that point. like might as well make it a tradition or smth to go up to someone and challenge them whenever lmao ,, wait that already happens

— ❀ arven would also grasp onto your arm or sleeve subconsciously, afterwards backing away and apologizing after the person’s gone for just grabbing your arm.

— ❀ “i hate it when people just keep persisting on someone even when they’re obviously taken…” arven would sigh, “…but hey, it means you’re hot stuff if people keep coming to take you away from me!”

— ❀ then he’d offer to go on a picnic or something, whatever you’d like. he’s just glad that you’re there with him, no matter what.

❝ jacq ❞

— ☾ the other person isn’t gonna take jacq seriously. i mean, he does look like he just woke up, with his laid back attitude and ruffled clothing. but the charm in it was something you could admire, and clearly the other person didn’t see that.

— ☾ he’s a lil irritated. not just because this person’s competing against him, but also because they have a solid chance.

— ☾ they looked better and dressed better, they were smooth with talking, and in no way did jacq feel as if he could compete properly against them.

— ☾ you seemed to sense his thoughts, holding his hand comfortingly. his heart, as if a weight was pushed off of it, immediately lightened.

— ☾ THEN he had the confidence to say some things. and after you both left the scene, a semi-heartbroken person left behind, he’d kiss you on the forehead thanking you for everything.

— ☾ sure, it was just a small scenario that doesn’t hold much significance in one’s eye. but it strengthened your relationship in the end, and as dorky as it seems, it mattered.

— ☾ jacq’s a good person. he just needs you there to remind him of it. give him one compliment and he’ll pay back tenfold.

work of kyushiblast , please do not translate , copy , or repost here or on any other platform !!

[mirohlayo]

MOONSTRUCK | LN4

moonstruck (adjective)

unable to think or act normally, especially because of being in love.

( you just made lando loose all his senses )

warning : none, fluff

word count : 886

note : looks like an etablished relationship but no, just lando crushing on you lol. wrote something short for this one bc i think it suits much better. also kind of related with wonderwall post.

!! english not my first language !!

a great race.

it was such a perfect day. time seemed to stop for a while, like people had to enjoy every single minutes of this unreal moment. ends of races were often filled with happiness and a sense of pride always won over fans and racing teams. it was the amazing sport of formula one.

the drivers always celebrated their podium. with friends, race team, engineers, family and any others close people. it was an overload of joy mixed with lot of positive emotions, and these were such precious moments that must be cherished at all costs. but not everyone has this chance. this chance to say you did a great job, to say you drove well. when you feel like you're just not good enough. your being hurts you so much as if you were stabbed everywhere. no one wants to feel like that. and luckily, that wasn't the case for lando.

he did an amazing race. a fantastic job. as soon as he jumped out of his car, his race team congratulated him and praised him for his podium. p2, that's just incredible for the mclaren team. and of course, oscar was proud of his teammate. just like you. you were so proud of lando. you never stopped believing in him, you were always the one to cheer him up. that's why today he hugged you a bit longer than usual, his arms wrapped you tightly against his warm body. in that moment, everything seemed perfectly perfect. the rays of the sun dazzled only you two, in each other's arms, like a reunion of two souls who had been separated for far too long. it felt just like him and you against the whole world.

and with heavy hearts, the pilots had to separate from their favorite person to return to the one final task : post race interview. so as did lando. he gave you a soft smile filled with an amount load of love and let you out of his embrace. he took place in front of the interviewer, and kept his concentration for the race questions. the spot was that the mclaren team was still in front of him a few meters further, so he could still see the people he loved celebrate the efforts of both mclaren drivers. he saw lots of wide smiles, sparkles in all eyes. everyone was still cheering and lando's heart felt full of happiness and love.

his mouth was speaking words, answering bunch of questions about how was the race and stuff like that. a noisy background, filled with laughters and cries accompanied deep lando's voice as he was still talking to the interviewer. his eyes scanned everywhere, sort of a habit he have every times it was post race interview time. he looked from the mclaren engineers to his tired but proud teammate, from the fans of the paddock club to the others drivers. and then he saw you. your person.

his gaze immediately softened, as if he had found reassurance in you. his eyes laid on you so effortlessly because every time a weird but pleasant sensation seized him, as if he was hypnotized by a stunning thing. you were shyly laughing with his manager, charlotte. a crystal clear sound escaped from your mouth which turned into a beautiful smile. the way your eyes slowly squinted, shiny sparkles in them, your cheeks' lines came out and embellished even more your face. your perfect side profile that lando's couldn't help to look at. the sun rays colored your skin in an orange-pink shadow. now it seemed like the world stopped. he captured an unreal moment of you. wow. you just looked like a goddess. a pure gem he wanted to chase after and keep it for himself. and just with this glimpse of you, he started to loose all his senses.

now he was stuttering. he acted clumsy, saying dumb and incoherent things. he stammered on his words, let little "huhh" "hmm" out of his mouth while he was thinking about what he have to say. but he couldn't think because now all his attention was on you. nothing came into his mind but only this picture of you. he even started blushing and a shy smile took place on his lips. god why he was so fucking lost every times it comes to you ? it's just unfair how much effect you did to him. but soon the interviewer finally saw his awkward position and finished quickly the interview.

then he ran to join his team, especially you. you turned to face him, and without any hesitation you hugged him tightly. because it is never enough hugs. oh how his heart craved for your touch. your body pressed against him, your breath on his neck. he was for sure so in love with you. and whenever you would ask him why he acted so clumsy around you, he always had the same answer. "you just stress me that's all" he would shrugged. but actually, the most correct answer would be "i just don't know anymore how to act normal because of you, your person and your presence. because after all i think i'm just a bit too much in love with you".

yeah, it was the perfect answer. and that without any doubts.

[ghoulie-67-baby]

Softly now - Good Omens

Summary: Your anxiety has been raging all day, one accident at home makes you snap.

Warnings: Anxiety, depression, panic attack, anxiety attack, angst, crying, blood/wound.

Pairing: Ineffable husbands x Human!reader.

Word count: 1,674.

To say today had been challenging was an understatement. Nothing particularly bad had happened. The mix of work and anxiety had me in a spiral, wanting to go home and curl up away from the world. After finishing my shift, I trudged home in the pouring rain, the sound of droplets on my hood keeping me grounded. I knew Crowley wouldn't have had any issue picking me up but it felt like a burden and my head was telling me he'd be annoyed if I asked. So I settled for the walk in the dingy weather.

Dodging puddles, I yanked my coat collar around my throat, shivering as raindrops trickled down my face, leaving tear-like streaks on my cheeks. Luckily the bag containing my laptop and books had been miracled by Aziraphale to stay waterproof and protected by any weather. Despite the calm look on my face, the bustle and noise of the streets had my eyes darting around. My heart thundered in my chest as the bookshop came into view, looking as beautiful as ever. I sped up, gasping as people barged into me in their rush.

With clenched, freezing hands, I shoved open the heavy wooden door and huffed out a sigh, slamming it behind me and locking out the world. My forehead reacted against the hardwood as I flipped the sign to 'closed'. I knew nobody would be in the shop, especially if Aziraphale had anything to do with it.

After a few minutes of unmoving silence, I wandered to the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. A good cup of tea made everything better. There was no sign of the angel or demon as I walked through our home so I settled for one cup. Moving around the familiar space, my mind zoned out and I was set on autopilot.

I jumped out of my head as the sound of shattering filled the room. Shards of delicate, precious china scattered over the floor the beautiful flower pattern ruined. Anger and irritation flooded through me as I glared at the mess. Tears gathered in my eyes as I rushed to clean it, guilt crawling up my spine.

With trembling hands, I gathered some of the shards together to throw them away whilst trying to ignore the feeling rising man my throat.

"Love, let me take that from you." I froze as the Angel's voice floated through the silence. I hadn't even noticed him arrive home. With a quick shake of my head, I walked to the bin to throw them away but flinched as a large shard sliced my palm.

"Oh Y/N, you've cut your hand now." He tutted, reprimanding my stubbornness but I couldn't look at him. Instead, I trudged to the sink, rinsing the gash with a hiss and wrapping it in a towel. A warm hand rested against my icy shoulder as I watched the blood run down the drain.

"Darling, you need to let us help you." Crowley followed not far behind the angel with a disapproving look on his slender face. I watched silently as he unwrapped the bloody towel and grabbed the first aid kit to clean it properly. By this point, Aziraphale had cleaned up the remainder of the cup and droplets of blood from the tiles.

"You should really be more careful Love," The angel stood making hot chocolate, concern painting his face. I nodded silently, biting back a sob as tears filled my eyes. My chest began to heave as the demon bandaged my palm.

Only when a tear splashed on his hand did he realise the streaks on my face and the heads of my breaths as my good hand clutched the countertop, knuckles turning white. I stared straight ahead at his jacket, frustrated with myself. I squeezed my eyes shut, begging the tears to stop but it only worsened as waves of anxiety and guilt crashed over me.

Crowley caught me by my elbows to steady me as the first sobs escaped, swaying as my senses erupted with overstimulation. With ringing ears, I tried to listen as he spoke but words seemed to bleed into each other.

The only clear sound was my wails and whimpers as I tried to breathe, the room closing on me. Embarrassment filled me as I clawed at Crowley's chest, pulling him as close as physically possible so I didn't feel like I was sinking. Slender fingers passed me to chubbier ones as the blur of beige of Aziraphale's jacket came into view.

"Softly now, Love," he whispered into my ear. My breath caught in my throat as I cried into his chest which I had all but fallen into. The hum of his voice vibrated through my body as his fingers traced patterns on my back, the other hand smoothing down my hair. I couldn't help but feel bad for cuddling him when he was warm and soft and I was cold and soaked but he didn't seem to mind.

Warmth flowed over me and I looked down to find myself in Crowley's black sweater and Aziraphale tartan pyjama pants. I hummed thanks to the angel as my sobs died down into silent tears and hiccups. I clenched my fingers into his waistcoat, knees trembling and head pounding with such ferocity that I felt nauseous.

"Now, Love, whatever managed to get you in this state?" His voice was gentle, ringing softly in my ear, the definition of angelic.

"Rough day is all." My voice was exhausted and small as I muttered against his chest.

"Did something happen, Darling?" I shook my head, taking note of the pissed-off tone in his voice. "You know I'll be the first to punish them if you need me to."

"Nothing happened, 'just been a bad day." I drew patterns on his chest. "All day I've had this niggling feeling in my chest and small things have built up and then when the cup smashed it was just the last straw." I trailed off, new tears dripping off my cheeks. "Didn't mean to break it Azira, just lost focus and-" His soft hushing cut me off as his fingers scratched gently at my scalp.

"You don't need to apologise, Love, as long as your okay." The relief that overtook my system was ridiculously strong and deep down I knew he wasn't really fussed about the cup but I needed to hear it. "It's just a cup. It is replaceable whereas you are not." I dismissed the flush on my cheeks as I pulled away from his chest, looking up at him. Sparkling blue eyes stared down at me with a soft smile as I rubbed my thumb over his cheek.

"Why don't we go and get comfortable whilst our angel finishes that drink, Darling?" I nodded, pressing a kiss to Aziraphale's cheek before taking Crowley's hand and following him to the bedroom.

Flinging his sunglasses on the bedside table, he sat on the edge of the bed. Serpent eyes looked up at me expectantly and though I tried to stop it, my bottom lip trembled. His arms stretched open for me and I fell into them with a cry of anguish.

His slender arms wrapped my legs around him so we were chest to chest, hands holding me tightly around him as I cried into his neck. My cry in the kitchen had been one Of pain, panic, anger and frustration at myself and the world. But this one was relief, pent-up emotion and overwhelming gratitude to my two celestials. I let myself into him, neither of us paying mind to my echoing wails or the tears that soaked his collar. Not even the way my cries shook both of our bodies.

Somehow, none of these things annoyed the demon who merely dismissed it for comforting me. Once I settled down, I lay boneless against him, head on his shoulder and body slouching whilst I caught my breath. I shifted my head to look up at him with puffy, tired eyes. My shaking hand rubbed his cheek, thumb grazing his cheekbone as he smiled down at me, letting his eyes flutter shut.

The shuffle of slippers at the door brought us back to reality but I didn't want to shift. Three steaming cups were placed on the nightstand before the bed dipped beside us.

"Feeling any better Darling?" The softness in the demon's voice caught me off guard for a second. I hummed out a yes, not having the energy for a better response, blinking tiredly as the world finally slowed down.

"Let's hop into bed whilst Crowley gets changed, Love." I nodded, crawling off his lap and flopping dramatically in the middle of the bed, beside a pyjama-clad angel. The fresh hot chocolate was placed in my hands once I sat up. I smiled as the heat seeped into my skin, sighing in delight as the sweet liquid ran down my throat. The two chuckled and Crowley climbed in beside me, gulping down his drink, mostly to appease Azira. The heat didn't bother him, it had no effect against hellfire.

A comfortable silence filled the room as we finished our drinks, basking in each other's company for a few moments. Rather quickly my eyes began to feel heavier. The cup was slipped from my grasp as I wiggled down under the covers, Crowley pressed reassuringly against my back.

"Hey Azira," I whispered, tapping his shoulder hesitantly. "Will you read to me?" The uncertainty dissipated immediately when he broke out in a smile and miracled a book with the flourish of his hand.

"It would be my pleasure, Love, do cuddle down and relax." The three of us got comfortable and I held Crowley's hand that draped over my waist as Aziraphale's voice floated to my ears, and the story began.

All three of us knew I wouldn't last long but he still happily read, knowing it would calm me and I might rest properly. And rightfully so, writhing minutes I had drifted off beside my two favourite beings.

[merakiui]

PLEASE. please. if you would be so kind to give us some more stalker ex scara... the first time I saw it it just changed my brain chemistry, and I desperately need more </3

>:D thinking a lot about stalker ex Scara, but you get really drunk and he's the only one left to look after you......

(cw: yandere, nsfw, non-con, alcohol/intoxication, toxic ex scara, modern college au, connected to the previous stalker ex scara concept)

Just,,, the fact that he's been so good and sweet ever since he casually slid himself into your friend group and you're not sure if you can trust him, yet here you are being completely, utterly, stupidly vulnerable in front of your very unstable ex. orz

Kuni's not one for parties; in fact, he'd much rather spend his precious time doing quiet, comfortable things with you (cuddling is so much healthier than drinking, after all! <3). Unfortunately, you allow your foolish friends to talk you into attending these brain-rotting parties so you can get drunk off your ass, and he can't let you attend them by yourself because there are too many risks. If you got too comfortable with Venti or Kazuha or even Tighnari while drunk, Kuni would never forgive you. >:( he's worked too hard cultivating this friendly image for himself, and he isn't going to let you or anyone else ruin it.

But right now everyone else is too inebriated to do much of anything, and he hasn't touched the drinks ever since he arrived, instead choosing to anchor himself to some forgotten corner of the room. He sulks and broods in silence, a scowl plastered to his face. He's just barely tolerating it for your sake. It's because he loves you that he's doing any of this. Soon you won't even need any of these troublesome friends. Soon you'll just have him, and he's all you really need. It was like that when you were growing up, after all. Even though, as painful as it is, you don't seem so codependent, so swept up in romance... You're so independent now, no longer the shy, fearful thing from the final few months of your relationship with him. He'd be impressed if he wasn't trying so hard to isolate you from each of your friends. It's a challenge when he's trying to tiptoe around Heizou's sharp, witty perception or Venti's proclivity for knowing everything about everyone despite no one knowing much about him.

But he endures. He's gone years without you; this is nothing.

If you were smarter, you'd know not to trust a word he says. That kind, soft smile he's perfected for this act is not to be believed, especially not when he's using it to assure your friends that he'll bring you home safe and sound. Heizou has his doubts because it's late and you can hardly walk a straight line, but he's tipsy just like the others and it's hard to deliberate like this. Besides, when has Kuni ever let the group down? :)

He takes you back to his dorm instead because Albedo's not home and he has the entire room to himself. While you meander clumsily over to his bed, kicking your shoes off and shucking your jacket in the process, he watches. You have no idea how much he depends on you, how much he admires you, so much so that it surpasses love and lust entirely. Without you, he's nothing. Or that's what he thinks because for the majority of his life he's felt empty and sub-human and so alone. But now you're here, and you can fill those empty spaces in his heart and give him a reason to keep living.

You don't seem particularly fazed when the bed dips under his weight. Rather, you blink sleepily up at him when he leans over you, gingerly reaching to help you out of your sweater. You're too drunk to protest or struggle, and you feel so dizzy every time you open your eyes. It's difficult to remain fully conscious when sleep is tugging at your body, pulling you under. You don't even realize he's fit his mouth on yours until his tongue is pushing past your lips. You manage to place your hands against his chest, intending to push him away, but you're so exhausted and tired. They fall to your sides, useless.

Kuni sits up and smiles at you. He says something about you being dumb and cute... or something about how your friends are fools. You don't really catch all of his obsessive murmurings when your attention is waning. Clothes are torn off; he kisses you a lot. You're not sure if you're reciprocating, but it certainly sounds that way when you're whining beneath him, arching against sodden sheets, your breaths coming in pants and huffs each time he ruts into you.

He doesn't have to worry about anything. Right now, it's just you and him in a corner of the world, locked away from everyone who might try to take you away from him. It's not like you'll remember much come morning. You don't need to anyway. It's better if you're lost and bewildered. That way he'll be able to craft a story to suit his fancy. You'll believe it. You'll have no choice, and Kuni knows how to tell very believable tales.

[mamsieur]

Don't mess with the Storm | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Summary : Sometimes, Cyclone could live up to his call sign. Especially when it concerned you, his youngest daughter, his little Storm.

TW : slight violence, mention of alcohol, family/domestic fluff

Length : 6753 words

AN : You can't make me believe that Beau Simpson isn't a family man with lots of kids. That's what he radiates.

posted on AO3 August 21, 2023

Your mom always said you took after your dad, but if he was a Cyclone, you were a Storm ; smaller and less destructive. Storm has always been your nickname. 

It described you quite well as much in your way of doing things than in your personality. You were passionate about everything you did and you often left a mess after you.

Being a Vice Admiral, Beau managed to control himself for his work but when it came to you and your well being, he could literally destroy everything on his way. Not that your father was in any way abusive or violent, but he sometimes could over react.

You were your parents’ precious little baby.

You were the youngest of four children; you had three older brothers, all in the military. Two of them, Nathan and Jamie, were naval aviators, like your father, and one, Aaron, was a Marine Officer. 

Needless to say, you were well taken care of ; you liked to think that you had a small ‘army’ for yourself.

But as much as they thought of you as their little princess, they never treated you like one, and you never wanted to be. You were tough and very capable of defending yourself. Your father always encouraged you in whatever you wanted to do. 

You wanted to join the soccer team? Let's go. Switch to boxing lessons? Done. A new passion for karting? He had your back. An interest in mechanics ? He bought you your first tool box.

As long as you put your heart and soul into whatever you did, your family would support you.

So when you told them you wanted to work for the Navy after your engineering degree, they were as supportive as they could be.

You were a genius engineer - your mom’s word, not yours - and you loved working on jets, inspecting them, gathering as much data as possible to make them as efficient as they can be. Working at Top Gun was heaven. Since the pilots were supposed to be the best, you loved pushing them and their machines to be better and better.

Of course, the fact that you were working on the same base as your father had raised some eyebrows. But neither of you cared, and he got you no special treatment.

After the uranium mission, you were assigned to check the status of the Dagger Squad's F-18s. Everything seemed to be in good shape, and while your computer analyzed the flight data, you inspected the engines. You liked to work alone when you could, it helped you stay in your bubble of concentration.

The sun was slowly setting as you finished diagnosing the last jet. Being alone in the hangar, you took the opportunity to put on some music. You hummed and swayed a little while you waited for the analysis to finish on your screen and inspected the engine.

Your head was - quite literally - in it when you heard footsteps behind you. They stopped a few feet away from you to let you finish what you were doing.

"I'll just be two minutes," you muttered and then shrugged, getting no response. You finished inspecting the seemingly defective part and stood up. Your face was covered in dust and motor oil, and your hair was starting to fall out of your ponytail.

You sighed and turned to your mysterious guest.

"Oh! Good evening Lieutenant Bradshaw. May I help you?" you smiled a little and wiped your forehead with the back of your hand.

"Good evening Second Lieutenant Simpson, to tell you the truth, yes, you may..." he grinned charmingly, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the plane, "I was wondering if you'd forgotten our date? It's 7:20, and we agreed to meet at 6:30 ?” 

You stopped smiling and looked at the clock. Crap! You hadn't seen the time.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry! I was servicing the jets and didn't realize what time it was! I should have set an alarm, I'm sorry. Jesus, how could I be so stupid?"

You were starting to mumble excuses as you gathered your things when you felt his hand on your wrist.

"It's okay, I know how you get when you're focused on something. We’ll find another day for that. I'll wait for you at the bar, okay?" he reassured you with a grin.

"Uh yeah, yeah okay! I'll be quick!" you nodded and smiled back at him. He tucked a strand of your wild hair behind your ear, a few inches from you, making you blush slightly. His thumb stroked your cheek. He had that cheeky smile he always had when something was on his mind. He took your hand and kissed your knuckles, his beautiful brown eyes never leaving yours.

" Or , I can also wait for you in the changing-"

" Lieutenant Bradshaw, Second Lieutenant Simpson, what are you two still doing here? "

Your father's stern voice echoed through the hangar, taking you by surprise. Bradley took a quick step back and straightened his posture to greet him.

"I, uh-"

"Lieutenant Bradshaw forgot his keys, sir, he was out. I got carried away with the diagnostics, I'm almost finished here," you replied quickly as Cyclone’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Bradley then at you.

"Hm. You better hurry then, Second Lieutenant, overtime is not allowed. You're free to go Lieutenant Bradshaw."

"Yes sir!" you said in unison and Bradley left as quickly as he could, flashing one last smile in your direction before disappearing down the corridors.

As you started to clean up the mess you'd made, you heard an amused sigh.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing. You're still living up to your nickname."

"Ha ha, very funny Dad," you rolled your eyes and closed your toolbox, "Don't wait for me, I'm going out tonight."

"Mmh. Is Bradshaw involved?" he asked as he helped you carry your stuff to the storage room.

"Yes? I mean the whole Dagger team is, I need to get to know them to understand how they work."

That was only half a lie. You knew they most likely were all at the Hard Deck, you'd met them there a few times. You got along well with them, especially Natasha, Bob and Mickey. And of course, Bradley... But it was different with him.

You'd known him for years and your very first assignment had been with him. Your friendship had evolved over the years into a kind of friends-with-benefits/fuck-buddies relationship until a few weeks ago. Since the uranium mission, he wanted more than that, and so did you. You two tried to keep your relationship secret because you suspected it could jeopardize either of your careers, and mostly because you knew your father would not approve.

He always thought the guys you dated were not good enough for you. And as annoying as it was, he was always right. He scared away some of them and when you thought back about it, it's a good thing he did.

Truth be told, you have been in love with Bradley for so long that sometimes it hurted. 

You had tried to tell him so many times in the past, but you were afraid of losing what little intimacy you had with him. So when he asked you out, first thing after the uranium mission, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. The hope that your feelings would be reciprocated had invaded your heart and mind, and you felt like it was the first time you were in love. It wasn’t of course, but you were all giddy about it.

You didn’t like to lie to your dad, he knew you too much to know everything in just one look. 

But it was worth it, wasn’t it ?

You hoped it was.

After a well-deserved shower, you changed into clean, comfortable clothes that actually suited you. You put on your helmet and rode to the bar with your motorbike. Your mother hated when you used that ‘death machine’ and your father wasn't really fond of it either. It reminded him of Maverick. He wasn’t fond of Maverick. It always made you laugh watching your dad trying to remain calm in front of the Captain. You’ve never seen a man getting on his nerves that much.

The Hard Deck was already busy when you parked ; a totally normal Friday night , you thought. Looking around, you spotted Natasha’s, Javy’s and Bradley’s cars.

Penny nodded at you with a smile as you entered. The Daggers were in their usual places and Bradley seemed to be winning the pool game against Jake. In a desperate attempt to break his concentration, Jake chuckled, "Your girlfriend's here, Bradshaw”.

The whole team had discovered your relationship, of course, but swore to keep it a secret. You were grateful to them, but Jake being himself, he couldn't resist taking a dig at you. 

You rolled your eyes and took a seat next to Bob, watching the two eternal rivals finish their game. You caught up with Mickey and theorized with him on the last episodes of Kenobi then made your way towards Penny at the bar to buy your round of beers. As you waited for your drinks at the counter, you felt two hands around your waist.

"You're late, Second Lieutenant ."

"Had to fix your teammates’ jets, Lieutenant , tell them to be more careful," you grinned, leaning your back against your boyfriend's torso. You heard him chuckle softly as he whispered that you were an ‘idiot' and kissed the top of your head.

"Sorry about our date, I'll make it up to you."

"You bet your sweet ass you will," Bradley snickered at the squeal you let out as he spanked you a little, “But right now, you owe me a dance to celebrate my victory against Hangman.”

He took your hand as you rolled your eyes but followed him. Your whole body pressed against his, arms around his neck, the room faded away. All you could feel and see was him; one of his hands on the small of your back, the other on your hip, guiding you. The warmth of his body was like a spell that kept you close, not wanting to let go.His hands roamed down your back making you shiver. It felt like you belonged there.

You couldn’t let go of his eyes, hypnotized. He had such beautiful eyes ; those hazel brown orbs were magnetic, so infuriatingly charming. 

One of your hands gently stroked his scarred cheek and he leaned into your touch, smiling like an idiot and humming the song you were slow dancing to. His smile always sent butterflies to your stomach and heat to your cheeks. It was almost annoying how easily you fell for his charms.

The two of you danced until the song ended and you pulled him by the collar to kiss him. You felt his hands slip into the back pockets of your jeans, shamelessly squeezing your ass, and his proud grin against your lips. You bit his as you pulled away from the kiss.

"Okay, lovebirds , get a room," Jake complained and you flipped him off, still in Bradley's arms.

"Don't be jealous Jakey, your time will come," you teased, making your partner chuckle.

"She's right Seresin, just wait till you're a big boy."

The evening continued quietly, with one beer after another, a few games of darts and pool, and a few songs on the piano for Bradley. 

You watched him from the bar, mesmerized, an affectionate smile on your face. You still wondered how you'd managed to get his attention; this man could have anyone he wanted with his smile combined with a little song, the sweetness with which he spoke, his sarcasms, his eyes so soft and intense at the same time, his stupid, stupid, cocky grin... God, you were definitely and undoubtedly under his spell, mind and heart.

Your eyes never left his form for more than five seconds. You looked at him as if you wanted to learn every aspect of his physique; but to be honest, you already knew him by heart. 

You could locate every beauty mark, every scar - and tell its story - and where his birthmark was. You could describe every shade of brown in his eyes, depending on the light or his emotions. You knew every expression on his face; when he was angry, frustrated, sad, or playful. You knew exactly where and how to touch him to make him putty in your hands, every positively sensitive area and those to avoid.

And yet, every time you looked at him, behind the piano, laughing with his friends, you discovered a new detail that made you love him even more.

The way he cared for all of them - even Jake, his "archenemy" - and knew just what to do to make them feel better and laugh. How he always listened to what they had to share, good or bad, and offered to help. How he'd always protect them as if they were his siblings, his rather hazardous family.

Speaking of hazardous family, it always made you laugh how Bradley could be so like Pete and like your dad. It was sometimes a mixture of arrogance and calm, defiance and seriousness. Part of you was sure that if they tried, your dad and Bradley would get along. But were they willing to ?

As you were lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice a man, a little younger than you, sitting next to your stool. He started talking, trying to flirt, but you didn’t really pay attention, still absorbed by your boyfriend’s silliness, until he clicked his fingers in front of your face.

“Hey, ‘m talking to you doll. You should really pay attention when someone is talking to you, got it ?”

You sipped your beer and looked at him out of the corner of your eye. He continued his flirtatious attempts, bragging that he was one of the best in his class at Top Gun. He kept trying to get your attention by snapping his fingers or grabbing your arm. His breath was clearly too close to your face and stinked a mixture of beer and chips. 

It really started to annoy you, so it was your turn to snap your fingers in his face.

"I'm not interested,” you snapped your fingers again, “If a girl ignores you, it's because she doesn't want to talk to you, got it ?"

You got off your stool, ready to join the Daggers by the piano. But a hand gripped your wrist and the man pulled you close to him. You could see a hint of anger and annoyance in his eyes, but it didn’t scare you. You were used to guys like him, thinking they own every woman they see. 

“Listen doll, I was nice until now. Give me your number and I’ll forgive you,” he grinned, his buddies sneering behind him, as if they were proud of him. You couldn’t help but giggle at the scene. What kind of bad joke was that ?

In one swift motion, you released your wrist and pinned his arm behind his back. You bent him violently over the bar and locked him in that position, pressing down just enough to hurt and immobilize him. 

"One false move and I will dislocate your arm," you threatened in his ear as a few glances turned in your direction. "Now listen to me carefully. This is the last time you'll talk to me or any woman like that. Understood?"

He grunted and struggled a little. You pressed harder and repeated, "Understood?"

"Okay! Okay, I understand! Get off me!"

The man growled again and you finally let go. Penny gave you a look that you understood as a warning and you smiled innocently to her. The man and his group walked away with a grunt, giving you one last murderous look. You smiled broadly and made a mocking curtsy. 

Bradley raised an eyebrow as they passed him, muttering that you were a "crazy bitch". You joined him with two beers, one for him and one for you.

"What happened?"

"Nothing to worry about, just some big macho guy. He didn't like that I wasn't paying attention to him. I just put him in his place."

You shrugged with a smile and Bradley shook his head, laughing a little, knowing exactly what you meant. He put his arm around your waist and kissed your temple. 

"I know you can defend yourself, but don't get yourself in trouble, Stormy."

"Don't worry, if I get in trouble, my knight in shining armor will come and rescue me, won't he?" you teased. He chuckled but nodded before taking you on his lap at the piano. He started a new song that had the remaining customers singing and dancing.

***

The end of the evening was a bit hazy.

You'd had too much to drink to get back on your bike, so it was Bradley who drove you home. You pulled your boyfriend into your small house - he offered no resistance - and kissed him as if your life depended on it, as if that simple contact made your heart beat. His hands roamed your body with hunger, and yours tore his Hawaiian shirt from his back. You thought of nothing but Bradley, his soft lips devouring your jaw and neck, leaving a few marks where he passed, his hands so warm on your skin, his breath making you shiver. 

You wandered back to your room, kicking off your shoes, and your clothes ended up in a pile at the end of your bed. 

You loved doing it with Bradley. He gave you everything you wanted and so much more. You'd never been as fulfilled as you were with him. It was as if he knew everything about how your body worked, that it held no secrets for him. 

Your nightly activities have drained you both of what little energy you had left, and you fell asleep hugging each other, as if afraid the other will evaporate.

The next morning, it was not your massive headache that woke you, but the sound of several cars and children laughing outside your house. What day was it? Was it Saturday? It was Saturday!

You jumped to your feet as Bradley mumbled something unintelligible.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" You shook your boyfriend and wrapped yourself in a blanket as you heard the sound of a key turning in the front door lock.

"Bradley, get up!"

"Mmh, five minutes..." he mumbled, burying his face in the pillow. You heard the door open and small footsteps running toward your room. You panicked and shook him harder.

"We don't have five minutes! Get your ass up!" 

You grabbed the first thing you could get your hands on: panties and Bradley's tank top. You stumbled to your bedroom door to get out before one of your nephews’ innocent eyes discovered their aunt and a man they didn't know naked as worms in her bed. You tried to look as natural as possible as you quickly closed the door behind you. Standing in front of you was Jack, your three-year-old nephew. He was Nathan’s, your oldest brother, son. He laughed as he threw himself on your legs to give you a hug.

"Oh my God, hi sweetie! You're early!"

"Dada said we'd surprise you, Auntie! And Pop-Pop is here too!" the little boy laughed.

"What a nice thought!" you tried not to sound too ironic as you picked him up to give him a kiss and rearrange his wild blond hair. "Auntie needs to get dressed, okay? Go wait with your dad in the living room!"

You gave him one last kiss and made sure he ran to the living room before storming back to your bedroom. How could you forget that your brothers were visiting today? You were so screwed! A million thoughts went through your head and one thing made you snap out of it; Bradley yawning and taking his sweet time getting up. You grumbled and attacked him with a pillow.

"Hey! What was that for?"

"We're in deep shit Bradley! My whole family is here! They weren't supposed to be up this early!"

"What?" he blinked and narrowed his eyes, trying to process what you'd just told him. You started to rattle on about how your brothers got their permission for your mom's birthday, but your brothers were here super early with their wifes, their kids, and your mom and dad. Bradley had trouble following what you were saying because you were talking really fast. 

“Babe,” he tried to interrupt you, but you kept mumbling and pacing next to the bed, “Y/N, baby, calm down!” 

He grabbed your wrist, pulling you to sit in front of him. His free hand cupped your cheek tenderly as he guided you into breathing to calm yourself down.

“Okay… mind explaining slower what is happening here ?”

You sighed and nodded before re-explaining the whole situation to him. “But they weren’t supposed to come here this early ! The surprise lunch for my mom was supposed to be at home, not in my flat ! And my dad is here. My dad ! What are we going to say ?”

You cursed again, rubbing your temples. Bradley took your hands in his to make you look at him and stole a kiss from you. You sighed against his lips, your tension going away slightly. He then pressed his forehead to yours, stroking your cheeks to soothe you.

“How about we get dressed and just… join them in the living room ?”

“You really want to face my dad ?” you raised one eyebrow, surprised but really relieved that he didn’t propose to just sneak out.

“Yeah ? I mean, the man already has doubts, you’ve said it yourself… and it’s your mother’s birthday, your whole army of men won’t be able to kill me. Not today at least.”

You chuckled at his joking tone and at the silly smile he has on his face. You pecked his lips with a grin. “Okay then Lieutenant , let’s get dressed.”

“Yes ma’am!” 

He gave you one last tender kiss, and when the two of you went to get up, a little giggle made you both freeze.

“Auntie who that ? And why he nakey ?”

Your nephew’s voice asked. He was standing by the door, a playful smile on his chubby face, and his little finger pointing at your embarrassed boyfriend. Bradley quickly covered himself more, lifting the sheet at his chin, and you ran to get little Jack in your arms.

“How did he get here ??” Bradley scream-whispered at you, hiding himself while trying to get dressed.

“I don’t know !” you scream-whispered back before turning your attention back to the toddler who was babbling in your arms, “Jack, honey, why aren’t you with your dad and pop-pop ?”

Before he could answer, your sister in law was by your bedroom, apologizing. She didn’t notice Bradley right away, but when she did, a small cheeky smile curled on her lip.

“Hi there, sorry to have him interrupted you two.”

“Annie, it’s not what it looks like-” you blushed when you understood what she implied but Bradley interrupted you by presenting himself and shaking her hand with a wide smile. They chat while you put on a pair of jeans, keeping on Bradley’s tank top. Never in your life had you been this embarrassed.

Little Jack looked at your boyfriend with wide-eyed wonder. He loved meeting new people, and Bradley seemed fascinating to his young eyes. It was no wonder when every time Annie spoke to you, Bradley would make faces at the little boy and make him giggle. 

Bradley already had him in his pocket, so that was a good thing. Annie seemed to like him too, at least you thought so from the mischievous looks she gave you. 

As you crossed the hallway to join the rest of your family, a wave of nervousness ran through you. You grabbed Bradley by the sleeve of his Hawaiian shirt and turned him toward you. You pulled him into a hug to relax and to give yourself courage.

"Promise you won't hate me?"

"Why would I hate you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"They'll probably try to impress you, my brothers I mean... and my dad... you know how he can be..."

"Oh honey... It takes more than that to scare me. I'll be fine."

He kissed your forehead and you walked into the living room.

You greeted everyone, your father not immediately aware of Bradley's presence. You introduced him to your brothers first, Nathan, Aaron and Jamie, and they didn't do anything strange at first; they were probably waiting for you to introduce him to your father to see what sauce to cook him in.

Beau and Vivian, your mother, were too busy admiring your niece, five-month-old Juliet, to notice Bradley's presence. She was fast asleep in the arms of Jamie's fiancée, Alice. She greeted you with a smile when you waved.

"Awake at last, Stormy?" your father asked before freezing and losing his smile at the sight of your boyfriend, " Lieutenant Bradshaw. ".

His cold, hard tone made you sigh a little as the two men shook hands in greeting. 

“Good morning Vice Admiral Simpson.” 

They were way too formal, it was ridiculous. Your mother had the same reaction as you and introduced herself to Bradley with a warm smile and a hug.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Simpson."

"Oh, please, just call me Viv!" she laughed a little, waving her hand. Then she turned to you, discreetly gave you both thumbs up and winked at you. 

Good. Bradley seemed to have charmed your mother with just a smile.

Still, you could feel your father tense up behind you as Bradley got to know everyone. He remained very polite and smiled, even letting Jack, Oliver and Tommy - Aaron's twin sons - pull him out to play in the little garden. Your father grabbed your arm. "Kitchen. Now. We need to talk." He seemed a little upset, and you could understand; you'd lied to him.

"Care to explain yourself?" He crossed his arms on his chest, a stern look on his face. 

You didn't like that look. He used to have it when he scolded you when you were a teenager, when you would sneak out of the house to go to a party or to meet up with your then-boyfriend. For a moment, you were 16 again, caught in the act.

You sighed at his insistent and questioning look.

"I uh... He’s... we’re... we've been seeing each other for… a few weeks..."

"A few weeks? So you've been lying to me for weeks?"

"I haven't lied! At least not completely..." you mumbled, biting your fingernail.

"Y/N. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Seriously Dad? You've made it pretty clear that you don't really like him, I mean outside of work."

"I never said that."

You widened your eyes, shocked at his bad faith. 

"Are you kidding me? You've made it clear that you don't want me around him because he's too much like Maverick! Every time I mentioned him, you made your… disapproving face. The same one you made every time I mentioned my old boyfriends, or when I wanted to get a motorcycle, or when the boys tried to bleach their hair in high school !"

"I don't have a disapproving face," he grumbled, "and it's not because he’s like Maverick that I don't want you around him, it's because he can be called back on a mission at any time. I don't want that to break your heart."

"Oh ! But it's okay for Nathan, Aaron, and Jamie to break the hearts of their partners? Of their children? It was okay for you to risk breaking Mom's heart and ours? What kind of cardboard argument is that, Dad?" You raised your arms in disbelief as you started to walk out of the kitchen, but you stopped and turned back to face him. "I know you want to protect me, but... you can't do that about things like that. I know you know better than anyone the risks of this job, the sacrifices it requires. But Bradley knows them as well, if not better, than you do. And as much as it scares me, as much as it scares us... we want to try… And even if you don't like it, we'll give it a try. Because I almost lost him once without really being able to be with him..."

Your father sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. From the kitchen window you could see Bradley playing with your nephews, under your mother's and in laws’ amused and tender eyes. A small smile crept across your lips as the little ones called you over to help hold Bradley down. You hurried to join them, and your mother joined your father.

"Our boys and the little ones seem to like this Lieutenant…”

“Seems like it…”  

“He reminds me a little of you when we first met..." Vivian chuckled to Beau as she hugged him. 

"Really?" the man wondered, "and how?"

"Well, he has that same sparkle in his eyes... the one that calls for adventure, that gentle and loving look when his eyes land on our Storm... and he's also very good with children," she laughed at his slightly embarrassed expression, "You should give him a chance... our princess looks so relaxed with him... look at her… look at her smile…"

He lifted his head and watched the two of you having fun with the three little boys and sighed. His wife was right. You looked so happy in Bradley's arms, waltzing and laughing with the kids. He'd never seen you look so radiant, as cliché as it sounded. Your brothers also seemed to have accepted the newcomer without too much fuss. So Beau seemed to be the only one who was uncomfortable with the whole situation.

He nodded and kissed his wife on the forehead. "Okay, I'll try... but I'm not promising anything."

Vivian rolled her eyes with a smile on her face. She knew for a fact that your father would quickly accept Bradley as well.

Lunch went off without a hitch, Beau swallowing his pride not to be as awkward with Bradley as possible, although he did draw a few murderous looks from your father when he put his hand a little too high on your thigh or lower back. After dessert, he helped your brothers put the kids down for a nap and let them share the convertible bed in your little study. Your sisters-in-law and your brother-in-law, Evan - Aaron's husband - helped you with the dishes. They gently teased you that Bradley was a very handsome young man and that you had chosen well. 

"I know I did. Look at you all, we Simpsons always have good taste," you sniped back with a wink and a teasing smile, making them laugh.

"Wait, wait, wait... So he was your regular booty call after your first assignment?" Evan seemed to realize. You shushed him and made sure that your parents didn't hear him say that. Annie laughed a little and grabbed your shoulder, making you look into her eyes. 

"I can see why you qualified him as the best sex of your life after the upper body I saw this morning," she teased you again, making your face completely flush. You practically begged her to stop talking about your sex life, very embarrassed. But the three of them could be little bullies and they loved to tease you sometimes.

"Guys, please stop. If my father hears you-"

"Hear what, Stormy?"

You turned and paled a little under your father's cold gaze and tight smile. Your sister-in-law and brother-in-law took the opportunity to run off like teenagers, and of course Bradley arrived just then, smiling carelessly. 

"The three cataclysms are finally asleep. Is everything okay in here?" he asked as he joined you in front of your father. He immediately wiped the smile off his face when he saw the look on Beau's face.

"You're lucky it's my wife's birthday, Bradshaw," he growled, his eyes staring straight into your souls, "but if I hear one more detail about your... nocturnal activities, I'm going to make sure that the two of you are as far away from each other as possible, even if it means sending one of you to Japan or Korea. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir," Bradley replied promptly, "Clear as day.”

"For God's sake, Dad, aren't you being a little extreme? I'm a responsible adult-"

"I'm warning you, I don't want another grandchild too soon. Keep it in your pants."

"Dad!!"

Just when you thought you couldn't get any more embarrassed, your dad had the right words. He left the two of you in the kitchen, muttering that he was getting too old for this. 

"Oh my God..." You cursed as you hid your face in your hands and turned towards the sink. Of all the weird things that could happen, you'd really hoped no one would mention your sex life. You felt a little angry, but more than that, you were extremely embarrassed. You let out a shaky breath, your hands gripping the counter as you lowered your head. You felt the warmth of Bradley's body enveloping you as he wrapped his arms around your waist, his front against your back and his chin resting on your shoulder.

"I'm so sorry..."

"Why are you apologizing, babe? I told you it would take more than that to scare me off... Maybe your dad hasn't fallen for the Bradshaw charm yet, but I'm working on it..." he tried to cheer you up, "And now I have an army of kids who love me, I can order them to defend me."

You smiled, amused at his silliness. "You're really good with kids, but I think it's them who will command you..."

"Maybe you're right," he laughed a little and kissed the hollow of your neck, his mustache tickling you, "but your mother has already adopted me. I'm protected."

You laughed with him, your embarrassment and anger disappearing. You leaned against him, enjoying the hug he offered you. These simple gestures were so comforting that it was almost frightening how quickly he could soothe you. You closed your eyes as he hummed and softly danced with you in the kitchen. It was so cliché, right out of a rom-com, but you couldn’t care less.

After a few minutes, you regained enough courage to join the rest of your family in the living room. Your in-laws gave you apologetic looks, and your brothers were a little lost, but didn't dare ask. 

For the rest of the afternoon, Bradley learned every little anecdote your mother had to share; whether it was about your brothers, you, or even your father, she was more than happy to share with him. Jamie and Alice had fallen asleep in the garden, making your mother smile in awe. Nathan laughed a little with Aaron. "We warned them that a newborn was exhausting, but they insisted on coming here their own way...". 

You laughed a little too, it was true they looked exhausted. But little Juliet was so cute that they forgot how tired they were. 

Speaking of her, the baby phone warned everyone that she was waking up. You volunteered to warm her bottle and Bradley went to get her. Alice had put the travel crib in your room so the other three children would not be disturbed if Juliet woke up. 

When the milk was at the right temperature, you joined Bradley in your room. Your cheeks flushed and you felt butterflies in your stomach when you saw him holding the little one. He rocked her gently, stroking her cheek with his index finger. He seemed so natural that it made you fall even more in love with him. 

You shook your head, your father's voice echoing in your head: "No more grandchildren for now.”

You joined him and let him gently place the baby in your arms. You smiled and fed the hungry five-month-old in your arms. Bradley leaned against the doorframe and watched you with a soft smile. You, too, were a natural with children. Juliet seemed so comfortable in your arms and you seemed so relaxed. He found himself daydreaming about the two of you having children together. He blushed as he imagined you pregnant with his baby... and Nathan giggled behind him. "Calm your horses Bradshaw, you're not putting a baby in my sister anytime soon."

Bradley's face turned as bright red as yours. "Nathan, shut up!" you yelled-whispered at him, careful not to disturb the eating baby in your arms.

“What? You heard our old man, "No more grandchildren for now!”” Nathan grinned and put his arm around Bradley's shoulders.

"I can't promise that..." Bradley mumbled softly, mesmerized by the sight of you holding Juliet against you as you burped her after she had finished her bottle. Nathan's eyes widened and he tried his best not to burst out laughing. "What did you say, Brad’ ? I think I misheard you?"

You blushed as you realized what your boyfriend had just said.

"I... Nothing!" Bradley defended himself weakly, very embarrassed. Nathan teased him until your mother told him to stop, threatening him with no cake after dinner. He immediately stopped and went to get his son after whispering to Bradley that he wouldn't forget what he had just said. You decided not to talk about it, feeling a little embarrassed as well.

It wasn't long before dinnertime arrived, and your father was relaxed and talking with Bradley. You even caught them laughing together. This interaction was reassuring for the rest of the evening.

As usual, your mother had cooked for a regiment, and your refrigerator was full of leftovers. She made Bradley promise to stop by the family home and look at the family albums and your childhood bedroom. He laughed a little but agreed. 

You walked everyone back to their cars, helped them with the kids' stuff, and your dad gave you one last hug and said good night. He said goodbye to Bradley with a slight smile and a quick hug. 

When everyone was gone, you collapsed on your sofa, drained of all energy. Bradley joined you with a smile and pulled you right into his arms.

"That didn't go so badly after all..."

You nodded, yawned and put your arms around him. You thought back to the day that had just passed, to that roller coaster of emotions, and laughed a little.

"So... eager to put a baby inside me Lieutenant?"

"Oh my God Y/N!!" Bradley blushed, hiding his face behind his fists in total embarrassment. You laughed and teased him about it. You preferred to take it as a joke because neither of you were anywhere near ready to have children of your own, you both agreed on that. Or did you?

He turned to you, a serious expression on his face.

"And what if I am? Would you... would you be on board to have kids with me? Not right now, of course, but... I... I can't imagine a future without you in it, and I'd like to have kids with you. I know we haven't really been together that long, but we've known each other for a long time... and oh my God, I'm rumbling," he groaned, rubbing his face before looking back at you. "What I mean is that I love you and I don't want to live without you. Maybe it's rushed, maybe you-"

You interrupted him, pulled him by the collar and kissed him. You didn’t know what came over you; maybe it was the fact that he had just admitted his feelings, or the fact that he was already planning a life with you. Maybe both. Certainly both.

"I love you too," you whispered between two kisses, "and I don't want to be without you either... and I would love to start a family with you someday, Lieutenant Bradshaw..."

You smiled, your forehead pressed against his, and he chuckled in relief.

"Today was really like you... a storm..." he sighed, smiling and stroking your cheeks.

"I know... are you sure you can keep up with my family?" you teased, "Now that you've messed with the storm, the cyclone will never be far away."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, Stormy."

[writingoddess1125]

HI I LOVE UR EVERYTHING AND PAPA BUGGY WAS SO CUTE AND IF YOU CAN DO ONE WHERE HE HAS BABY FEVER PLEASE 🙏🙏 I'M ON MY KNEES 🙏🙏 (I love ur work it's so cute and sad, funny)

Lucky Winner to get Part 2!!

Fever pt. 2

Buggy x Femreader + Buggy Twins

Also PSA everyone Wrap it before you tap it!

Support me on Ko-Fi ☕️

Check out the rest of the Old Men series

"YOURE PREGNANT!!"

Buggy shouted in total joy, Jumping around the room as his body looked almost like an accordion at his odd movements- you sitting there in total shock.

You'd expected that the twins would be your first and last, not that you would accidently get pregnant again especially by the same idiot who had done it by accident the first time.

Your hands went over your face as the reality of 9 months of this set in- For Fuck sakes... You could t help but giggle and hug Buggy there in the doctors office, Both happy and in total shock by this all.

After this things moved all too quickly it seemed. Of course you two told the boys who had been both excited and apprehensive- Like most kids worried the new baby would replace them or take the father they just gained from them, which had to be explained wasn't the case and you and Buggy created a gameplan to help the biys adjust. Then came the crew, who decided to have a 3 day celebration and get absolutely shit faced- Buggy included.

Why you were indeed happy, incredibly happy infant you knew what was about to come. HORRIBLE PREGNANCY SYMPTOMS! WONDERFUL-

Your first trimester was filled with morning sickness, Poor Buggy being as kind as possible as he helped clean you up and find foods that wouldn't make you puke your guts out. The twins even doing their part to find nice teas and things that smelled nice for you to also not throw up.

During this time Buggy bought so much stuff- Most likely boosting the economy of the village single handedly as he had the nursery built in the cabin and on the ship, You and the boys having a fun few weeks decorating both areas.

By your second trimester the hormones kicked in horribly, that and cramps. However that's when something magical happened as well-

Buggy and you were laying on the bed, both of you quite exhausted. Buggy was tired from dealing with the twins all day while you were tired from the baby and fatigue that was hitting you like a fleet. Since the start of your second trimester when your baby bump had become far more noticable Buggy always has his hand somewhere on your stomach rubbing the growing bump.

"I need to find a better way of tiring them out..." Buggy grumbled, You nodding in agreement leaned against the man and truthfully you both without single damns. Buggy in some pink boxers while you leaned against his naked chest in a large shirt rolled up over your stomach and underwear.

"They are still worried- Maybe take them out sailing or something? I'm sure they would enjoy tha- Oof!" You yelp as a sudden jolt hit you, clearly aimed right under Buggys palm which make both of you jump in surprise.

"What the hell was that?" He questioned as he pulled his palm away from you quickly and looked at your stomach. You shifting and rubbing the exposed skin smiling at him.

"They kicked, ive been feeling 'em move but not kick yet. Here I'm sure they will give you another little kick" You say calmly. Buggy sitting infront of you quickly and placing his palms back on your skin, You shifting his palms to the perfect spot before another jolt ran through you and Buggy giggled like a child at this.

"Thats so weird feeling!"

His eyes sparkled at this as he sat infront of you rubbing your stomach and feeling his child move under his palm and occasionally kick. It was a truly precious moment for the both of you.

As for the final trimester... Pregnancy was never too kind to anyone- Especially you. It wasn't with the twins and it sure wasn't now-

Leaned against the counter you glared hard at Buggy- 60 damn days you're ass! Try 8 fucking months trapped in this God forsaken cabin with your mentally unstable partner, two 12 year old boys and your bladder being utterly destroyed by little feet.

Oh and of course- THE GOD DAMN CREW THAY DECIDED THAT THEY WANTED TO STAY WITH THEIR FEARLESS CAPTIAN TILL THE 'VACATION' WAS OVER!

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Buggy questioned feeling the heat of your glare on his skin.

"I-..." You wanted to start Biting his head off but truthfully he had done nothing, you figured you were just emotional to the max at this point and the cramping didn't help.

"...I'm in pain-" You admit with a sigh, Buggy setting down his drink and walking to you calmly as he looked you over like he could spot your pain.

"Your stomach looks different" He said calmly, You shooting him a warning look.

"No shit it looks-" Buggy shook his head to stop you, "No its lower I mean, I think it's best we call the doctor" He said calmly, A shot of embrassment going through you at this point. Buggy truly had been giving it his all and learned from the doctor. With a chick trip from the Doctor and Midwife they confirmed you were in labor and got you set up to give birth in the cabin, The twins being taken to the Big Top with Cabaji while they waited for their siblings arrival.

"How are you feeling?" Buggy asked, Gently rubbing your back as you smiled.

"Not to bad actually- I'm glad you're here with me.." You say softly as another contraction shot through you.

At first it was fine- You'd been through this before. So it should be shorter and less painful this time around- Yeah No. You went from fine to screaming in pain very very quickly. Buggy sitting next to you trying to comfort you and get you through it- However the last thing you wanted was him there..

Which landed Buggy outside the house awkwardly, his crew also seated on different patches of grass as they flinched at every cry and scream that echoed out from the house and into the silent garden outside. You had kicked out Buggy 20 minutes ago, clearly just in too much pain to handle him at the moment and the doctor recommending him to try to return in 30 minutes. Which he did.

Truthfully he handled it like a champ once back in, holding your hand despite feeling like you were crushing it into dust and wiping the sweat and tears from your eyes. After a seven exhausting painful hours a shrill cry cut through the air as you slacked onto the bed. The doctor happily placing a little girl on your chest, now tears of joy running down your cheeks.

The doctors starting to clean her up as you admired her, looking to Buggy who was also crying.

You held the little girl in your arms, seeing her pink little face she had your facial features and (Y/H/C) hair like you but a bright rounded cherry nose/cheeks and ocean blue eyes. She was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen. You saw Buggy stare in only awe as he felt tears hit his cheeks and he smiled.

"Shes.. shes.."

Your hand reached forward, Buggy thinking it was to caress his cheek or something gentle but instead you grabbed his neck in a iron grip- He squeaking in surprise as you pull him close.

"Buggy- This is the last... do you understand? Cause if the words 'I want another child' come from your lips ever again I am going to cut your dick off and throw it into the deepest part of the ocean. Do. You. Understand. Me" You said in the softest and kindest voice Buggy had ever heard, fear going through his system as he could tell you were dead serious.. maybe it was the lack of oxygen going to his brain or still the euphoria of the moment but he swore he saw literal hell flame in yours eyes.

"Clear- Crystal Clear" He wheezed, you releasing him so he could scoop up his daughter. He genuinely looked giddy at this point as he cuddled her close to his chest, you saw the anxiety just below the surface of his face as he stared at his daughter more her nose-

"Shes beautiful" You say softly staring at her from Buggy's arms.

"I won't let her go through what I did- I want her to feel special and perfect" He admitted, your eyes softening at his vulnerability as he kissed his daughters cheek.

"Im sure they will kn- Oof!- Fuck" You hissed in pain and flinched. The doctor peaked under the blanket quickly and called over the midwife who did a quick check. You wincing in pain as Buggy stared at you panicking and holding the now fussing newborn.

"(Y/N)?!" He said softly as another groan of pain left you. The midwife and doctor conversing quickly before beginning to prepare once again.

"It seems you're still in labor- Looks like another baby" He said proudly, Your eyes widening as you look at Buggy like you were prepared to kill him. The clowns face as white as snow making his face paint look dark at the realization of 2 sets of twins kicked in.

"Holy shit-"

"GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!!" You yelled as Buggy kept his daughter and rushed out quickly to show off his daughter and avoid your wrath of damning you to another set of twins.

Eventually he would return with your guys daughter and sat through another broken hand created by your labor. That night another little girl was brought in this world, the little girls being 8 hours apart and identical to her sister.

It was later decided after you had properly been cleaned up and not ready to murder Buggy their names. Buggy coming up with the names Ali and Ari respectively for his daughters.

Tag List-

@alastorhazbin @yuriwk

[blushweddinggowns]

Steddie Drunk Dialing Fluff

Steve Harrington-Munson was probably one of the happiest men to be alive in the modern era. He had the perfect life, against all odds. Because apparently having your late teens and early twenties ruined by demons equated to a fantastic adulthood.

He had it all. A loving family, the best friend/surrogate sister he could ever ask for, and he was married to the love of his life. And okay, yes. That had included some extremely embarrassing revelations and internal meltdowns and... a pretty brutal disownment. But he had figured it all out in the end. And here he was, a decade later with a ring on his finger and a nice hyphenated name. Not to mention how he was basically a trophy husband.

Eddie hadn't wasted a moment of the last decade. A symptom of almost dying it would seem. He went for the GED, gathered the band back up, moved across the country to chase his dreams and play in every shitty dive bar he could until they were discovered. All while dragging Steve along for the ride.

As much as Steve had believed in him, neither of them had been prepared for his music career actually taking off. Especially not to the level it did. It was undeniable that his husband was an A-Lister, despite how universally hated he was by half the country. You don't get many out and proud metal front man who loved parading around his high school sweetheart at every social event he could. But Europe loved him, as did the entirety of gay, rebellious youths world wide.

It was so stupid. There Eddie was, painted as an insane freak who was fake-married. With tabloids running story after story about his secret children, his drug addiction, a wife from another country, anything that they could think of. All while Eddie spent every free moment at Steve's side, always opting for a night in with his baby when given the choice. And when he wasn't doing that, he was busy playing surrogate fun uncle to the kids, who were definitly not kids anymore. But that didn't stop them from all getting together for Dungeons and Dragons once a month, hundreds and hundreds of campaign hours on everyone's belts. And that was his life. Spending time with his family, forcing them on hikes and runs, volunteering, working occasionally to help Robin with her translating work, all while coming home to the sweetest thing that ever existed.

God, did Steve love that man. Reminiscing about the love of his life while he was on tour was not helping his fretful sleep. He just... really had given him everything. He loved him so much in fact that he was only slightly pissed when he was woken up at three a.m. from the phone ringing off the hook.

Steve reached for it blindly, still half-asleep when he mumbled, "Mm-Eds?"

"Steeeeeeeeeevie," Eddie's voice slurred back at him, "Baby booooy. How's my baby boy? I miss my baby boy."

Steve smiled despite himself, yawning into the phone. Eddie was lucky he was so cute, considering how the love of his life who could not remember what time zones were, "He misses you too. And he's a little tired right now babe. What's up?"

"Day drunk," Eddie sighed, "Guys, morning show, mimosas, hotel room to sleep it off. Missing you."

"You won't be missing me for long," Steve softly laughed. Though... hearing his voice was quite the reminder of how cold the bed suddenly felt, "Just... one more week. That's not too long right?"

"Too long!" Eddie groaned, dramatic, "I miss you now. Why can't I see you now? Wait-Can I see you now? Cause planes and trains and-"

"And no," Steve interrupted with a chuckle, "You'd only get me for a few hours before you'd have to leave again."

"Worth it," Eddie mumbled out, his voice a little muffled as he tumbled around in his hotel bed, "Want my baby."

The pathetic tilt to his voice was enough to make Steve's heart clench. God he was too precious. Suddenly a red-eye in the middle of the night for a two hour make-out session didn't sound like such a bad idea. But he could be the strong one for tonight, "You have me sweetheart. Want me to stay on until you fall asleep."

"Yes please," Eddie sighed, "Love your voice. It's so... nice. Like... audible perfume. Like poetry or something."

"Oh baby you are wasted," Steve said as he laid back down, nestling the phone to his ear, "Please tell me you drank some water before laying down?"

"... maybe?"

"Babe."

"I knoooow. Keep nagging me though. I missed that too."

"Is my bitching your bed time story?"

He could hear Eddie nodding, rusting against the fabric, "And it's the best. Keep going?"

Steve rolled his eyes, but he did what he was asked. Saying every silly little grievance he could think of. He whined about how cold it was in bed without him, how Eddie had promised to take out the trash before he left and forgot. Again. How he hated how quiet it was without him, how much he missed hearing his voice trailing in and out of every room.

And Eddie listened, mumbling out a few sleepy m'sorrys and I love yous along the way. Until all Steve could hear was the slow, steady sound of his breathing. But he didn't hang up. Not when that was one of his favorite sounds in the world. And the perfect thing to fall asleep to.

Steve smiled to himself as he closed his eyes, a little amazed that Eddie could still make him feel so loved, from hundreds of miles away.

But one thing was for sure. He still had to be the happiest man on earth.

[revehae]

secret stalker

pairing ↠ bff!stalker!jaemin x you

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, noncon, stalking

summary ↠ there’s one room in his apartment that your best friend never allows you to enter. one day, while you’re having a sleepover, the chance for you to find out what’s he’s hiding finally arises. but you realize exactly why he doesn’t want you there.

wc ↠ 1.1k

a/n ↠ this is a repost!

don’t like it, don’t read.

there’s a room in your best friend’s place that no one’s allowed to enter - not even you. while you’ve always been curious as to what he could possibly be hiding, you never thought too much of it, brushing it off and joking, “what’s in there, a red room?” you wanted to know, but you never pressed. it was probably for your own sake. in the nicest way possible, jaemin was as unique as they came and he simply did things differently. and then, the letters started. first it was one. you were a little worried, but you thought someone was trying to play some evil prank on you. and then one became dozens until they began to pile up in a stack inside of your room, filled of rape threats and the anonymous writer’s endless twisted fantasies. by then, you were terrified. and of course, you told the most trustworthy person in your life - your best friend, jaemin. he seemed genuinely surprised when you told him - and arguably upset - and vowed to protect you from whatever dangers lied in the world around you. with jaemin around, you felt safe. your best friend’s embrace alone relieved you of the burden that was your biggest fears and worries.

one night, you’re having a sleepover at jaemin’s place. considering you felt unsafe whenever you were home and especially when you were alone, you slept at jaemin’s more often than not. in the middle of the night, you woke up to get a glass of water, but on your way to the kitchen, you realized something: the door to the forbidden room was not only unlocked, but ajar. and your temptations got the best of you. you glanced around a couple of times, making sure that the coast was clear. jaemin was fast asleep. as long as you left everything the way that you had found it, he wouldn’t notice anything. so with reluctance, you tiptoed to the room, and pushed the door open. when you stumbled inside, what you saw made your stomach churn. the room was filled to the brim with pictures of you, some clearly taken without your consent and in very illicit circumstances (like when you were changing clothes in your bedroom). there was a journal filled with words in handwriting you had come to recognize fairly well over the past few weeks, detailing things the writer wanted to do to you and his activity lately. more specifically, how he had been stalking you for ages now. before the letters even started. your hands began to tremble as you held the notebook, and you came to a realization that made you feel nauseous: jaemin was your stalker. or your “secret admirer,” as he had so kindly deemed himself in the journal.

“tsk. didn’t i tell you not to come in here?” you turned around instantly, seeing jaemin leaning against the doorframe with a twisted grin on his lips, arms folded across his chest. “you finally figured it out. shame you just had to find out this way. i wanted it to be a surprise.” jaemin stepped closer to you, and with every step forward he made, you took one backwards. he didn’t rush, taking his sweet, precious time to corner you. after all, he knew that you wouldn’t be able to escape him anyways. “get away from me!” you shrieked, trying to push him away from you. to no avail. he simply pinned your hands above your head, watching you cry and uselessly squirm against the wall with a mocking pout on his face. “now, now. that’s no way to talk to your best friend. i’m going to protect you. i would never hurt you, sweetheart,” he crooned, voice gentle as always. but there was another presence in his tone, too. something completely unfamiliar. then, he added, “unless i have to. don’t make me have to hurt you, okay sweetie?” 

you gulped, terrified. never in your life had you ever been scared of your best friend up until this particular moment. he was sweet, gentle and loving. when you were frightened half to death over the letters that you were receiving, jaemin held you and sang soothing words into your ear. you would never expect that your stalker would ultimately be your best friend of all people. but here he was, and the control he had in a situation where you were utterly powerless was alarming. given the nature of the letters he had written for you, you were filled with dread. when you didn’t respond to his question, only breathing heavily as more tears flowed down your cheeks, jaemin grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. his voice was a little darker, “i said, okay sweetie?”

when you nodded, jaemin smiled and began to drag you towards the bed in the room. he pushed you against the bed and you squealed, but he didn’t stop, beginning to peel at your clothes. when you tried to stop him, he simply pinned you down and taunted, “ah, ah, ah. no fighting me.” before you knew it, you were being cuffed to the bed, and jaemin was placing duct tape over your lips. god, you were being loud. the last thing he needed was his neighbors becoming suspicious and calling the cops. “you made me do it,”  jaemin said disappointedly, shaking his head. then, he continued his ministrations, removing your clothes from your body as you muffled vehement protests. “you know,” jaemin began, tugging your shorts down your thighs. he cupped between them when he was done, “this is supposed to be your room. i haven’t finished it yet because i didn’t think you’d find out so soon, but that’s okay. you’re gonna be good for me, right?” your underwear joined the pile of your clothes on the floor, and when jaemin caught a sight of your cunt, he let out an almost animalistic sound. it wasn’t long before he was forcing himself inside you, unable to resist the urge. he leaned over your face, licking the tears away and laughing when you grimaced in discomfort. “my pretty, pretty baby,” he sighed softly. if it weren’t for the situation you were in, you would have thought he sounded sweet. “we’re going to have so much fun in this room together, i promise. aren’t you glad you found out? now we can be together.” 

together. you didn’t like the way that he said that word. and yet, all you could do was lie there, being taken advantage of by your best friend that you had trusted with as much as your life and dreading learning what his definition of fun was.

[bigassmoonchild]

Tears

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: You'd never seen Simon cry. He was the scary Ghost, and Ghosts didn't cry. Maybe he had just grown too comfortable with you, because it didn't take long to be pushed back an arms length.

Content Tags: Fluff, Simon Simping, Angst, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Reader Simping, Crying, Senseless Worry, Fear, Fear of Death, Thoughts of Death (NOT suicidal ideation), Hurt/No Comfort, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost, No Use of Y/N

A/N: I am so sorry about being awol this week, my heart condition and migraines have whooped my ass. I wasn't expecting how this would turn out, but I enjoy it a lot. Mostly internal thoughts, some interactions here and there. Anyways, here's part 15!

Part 1 | Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist

The few days you spent back home, it was slowly getting better. Your father had accepted Simon, your mother was spending a lot of her time doting on you and Simon, but Clint was still gone. Nowhere to be seen, no one had heard from him.

Arthur still stayed quiet, but you remembered him as the gentle boy he once was. He'd always been that way, especially after everything your father had done when he presented. No one talked about it anymore, but your brother still stepped on eggshells around everyone.

Simon had grown to enjoy spending time with the pack pups, reminiscing on his time with Price's own. Even then, he'd never considered that he would have any of his own. It was terrifying. Clair had pulled him away, baring her teeth and threatening a few different deaths if he'd so much as hurt you.

How dead he'd be if she knew.

And that's all he could think about, watching as Clair doted on her own Omega. Watching as she loved and cared for her pups. Seeing her act like an amazing Alpha, one he'd never thought he would be. Him? Someone's Alpha? It scared him, even so long after it had occurred.

His mind was constantly warring with itself, the old him trying to get him to run, dump his savings onto you and disappear into the wilderness. The other part of him, though, saw you as you existed. In the mornings, hair a mess and eyes still tired. After sex, your eyes slightly glazed over and skin heated.

He could see you, puffy eyed as you admitted your fears to him that first night back. He heard the sobs you gave him, oh so many time.

Simon saw the fire in your eyes as you snapped on him.

And he loved you all the more for it. You were his Omega, his precious mate. What he could consider the love of his life. And yet he looked at you, admiring your older sister with a look in your eye that seemed almost... regretful.

It was then that he really thought. Deeply, on all the past conversations. He had seen a similar regret in your face while driving back to the hotel, eyes still puffy from the crying.

Price, speaking with him one night. "How many people would wish to be mated like that?" Price had once asked him. "She is living, breathing and eating with a man she does not know. You can't make this any more difficult than it is," but this had been the first few weeks of your mating.

Were the two of you still strangers? Or acquaintances now? He didn't even know your favorite color, let alone simple facts about you. And now, as he lay next to you, he feared that perhaps everything had gone too quickly.

Even as he felt your fingers grasping at his sleep shirt, feeling the press of your swollen belly against his side. Everything had happened so quickly, and he hadn't been there for the first, what? Six months? He knew, almost inherently, that it was a poor representation of him.

His Alpha groaned, baring it's teeth at the thought that he was a bad Alpha. Even as he stared at the ceiling, eyes cast over, thoughts prickling over everything. The distaste at the back of Simons throat was strange. His eyes burned, and he blinked his eyes clear.

What the hell? Tears?

Simon was able to get your hands untangled from his shirt, shifting out of bed carefully and finding his way to the bathroom. Shutting the door carefully, he flicked on the light and found his reflection staring at him.

The vision blurred, staring through himself rather than at. He couldn't see himself. Not Simon, barely Ghost, but rather the monster he often thought of in the midst of missions. A killer, someone who took lives, not create. He was a monster, claiming you without permission, and he could feel the heat of his tears pouring down his cheek.s

The door opened, and he couldn't think. Barely heard your voice, calling out, wondering why the hell Alpha smelled sour and was crying. Your arms wrapped around him, pressing a gentle kiss against his back.

You could feel the hiccupped breaths he was taking, you could see the distant look in his eyes through the mirror and his scent was horrid. It smelled purely of distress, pain, even hints of anger. Not the scent of Simon.

Grasping his hand, he followed mindlessly as you dragged him back into the main room, gently pushing him onto the bed. Standing between his legs, you ran your fingers through his hair.

"Simon," you whispered, carefully. "Love, what's wrong? Your scent is so strong, but it isn't you. What's wrong? Please, Simon," and you whispers continued. His eyes remained blank, gone. Even as thoroughly exhausted as you were, you could feel fear twinging in your gut.

You'd never seen Simon like this, but you'd seen soldiers coming back from intense battles who looked like this. Not your Simon, not him. No, maybe there'd be days that he would grow quiet and slightly distant, but he never looked like this.

Even as your hands found his cheeks, your lips pressing against his head, you heard nothing from him. You moved, reaching for the phone you'd tucked somewhere before collapsing into bed, and felt his hands grasp for yours.

His fingers entwined with yours, tugging you closer to him once more. Simons arms wrapped around you, his head resting against your chest. You could hear his sobs, muffled by your body, but you could feel his shoulders shaking.

Pressing your lips to the top of his head, you slowly rocked the two of you side to side. You stayed there, listened, held him. His sobs hurt you, nearly scared you. Such a strong man, an amazing Alpha, broken down into tears. And from what?

You thought, and thought, and thought. There was nothing, you realized, that you could think would cause this. You couldn't remember a thing that happened today that would make him break down. Maybe it had been Clint? Your family initially not accepting him, hurting him?

No. He wouldn't even think about that kind of thing. Sure, he'd had a reddened cheek for some time afterwards, but nothing that would cause him to cry this hard.

Your lips pressed against his head once more, squeezing your arms around him tighter. He sniffled, sobs breaking down into just some hiccups. You could feel your shirt wet, from his tears. You could see your silhouette from the light in the bathroom. The darkness wasn't all encompassing, not in the little hotel room you had.

It was like a gentle blanket, hiding the two of you from the rest of the world. You could feel Simon pull his head up, resting his chin against you while looking up. His eyes blinked long and slow, they were reddened and puffy. His skin was slightly blotchy, but pale from the near hyperventilation.

Neither of you spoke, your fingers brushing the stray tears away before cupping his cheeks. Pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, you gave him a little smile.

"What's wrong, Si?" You broke the silence and he shook his head. His eyes had closed, some more tears breaking free. He tried tugging you closer, your belly stopping you from getting as close as the two of you wanted.

It seemed funny to you. The pup, now seemingly forever separating the two of you just a little. More than you'd been prior to it's conception, it had now separated you. The closest you'd ever get to him would be looking in the same direction, just a step ahead of him. The pup would separate the two of you forever, maybe never gaining that distance back.

But you'd do it all for the loving smiles and little touches you got from him. You'd do it all again if it meant you'd stand right where you were, and you would never change your path. You'd take the same steps every single time if it meant you'd be standing where you were.

And you hoped he could feel it in the way you pressed your lips to his head, squeezed him a little tighter. You hoped he could feel it in the way your fingers ran through his hair, the way you'd always be right by his side.

Maybe he would never know. Even as he tugged you into bed, pulling your back to his chest and burying his face into the nape of your neck. Even while his fingers intertwined with yours, cupping the little pup resting just inches from your hands.

You could only hope, as the two of you woke, he understood how much you truly loved him as you helped clean his face up. Dried tears were a bitch, you knew. You could see the pain in the way his eyes shut a little tighter when the sun rose just a little more. You truly could only hope he would understand how much you loved him as you shut the curtains and curled back up into bed with him.

Maybe, just maybe he would realize how much you loved him while watching his interactions with the family pack pups. Seeing him allowing the little girls and boys paint his nails or play fight with him. Seeing how he treated your mother with such respect, allowing your siblings to do as they pleased to him.

And on the plane home, you could feel him squeeze your hand gently. "I truly love you, Simon," you whispered. "I wouldn't give up a single decision I've made," and he rested his head on yours. "If I had to do it all over, I don't think I'd do anything different," and you could feel his cheek shifting against your head.

"I love you, sweet Omega," he whispered in turn. "With all my heart, I truly mean it when I say I would do anything to make you happy," and his lips pressed against your head. You sighed deeply, allowing sleep to take over you.

Simons fingers brushed along your back, gently shaking you awake. You didn't want to go back, you realized. You wanted Simon all to yourself, maybe have a nice little home in the country. Maybe watch your pups just exist out where they wouldn't have to fear anything.

Keeping Simon to yourself, he would never almost die again. You would never lose each other to the trivial ideations of war. You'd never be given subsidies for his death, and you would never have to plan a funeral for the man you loved.

You wouldn't have to worry about anything if you were able to get him to retire. Maybe the two of you could open a shop, or a little clinic. Help people who needed it the most, ensure everyone was taken care of.

And in the car, you finally spoke up. "Will you stay in the military once the pup is born?" You asked, voice growing quiet. His eyes flashed over to you, his brows furrowed under the balaclava.

"What d'you mean?" He asked. "Obviously I'll get leave to be with the two of you, but I can't just leave my job," he spoke, carefully. You hummed, staring through the windshield.

You didn't look at him. "What if you die? The pup will never know you, it'd be safer to-"

"To what? Go work an office job?" He sounded surprised. "Lovie, working in the military gives me the money we'd need to take care of the pup. This is my life, I can't just drop it all of a sudden. Price is able to balance it all, I can't see why I won't," you looked at your hands, playing with your fingers.

"I'm just worried, s'all," you whispered and you could see him shake his head from your peripheral.

"You needn't worry, I've survived this long. I'm not leaving my job, not for..." he trailed off, not finishing his sentence. You could feel your chest tightening, the dream of the nice little home in the country vanishing just as quick as it had come.

He wouldn't give up his job. Not for you, not for a pup. You were dumb for even thinking it. The car was silent the rest of the drive, you had grabbed your bag as soon as he'd parked and walked yourself back onto the compound.

You would have a lot of work to catch up on, and Simon left you to be. You had entered your office, just staring at the sad little desk and papers stacked on it. You truly were stuck in this life, and you slowly grew to realize you didn't want to be just a doctor.

You'd signed up to be a combat medic, not sit safe and sound in the compound. Had you truly given up your dream? Just for an Alpha, and now his pup? Was this what it meant to be an Omega?

There was no one you would tell that you sat at your desk, door locked and quietly sobbing. You were just so tired, and you wanted to be heard. You knew, unconsciously, it was a big ask of him but you'd hoped, genuinely, that he might hear you out and understand.

Taglist: (Please send an ask/DM to be added)

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[maximotts]

𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑚𝑒 ⁘ 𝑤. 𝑚𝑎𝑥𝑖𝑚𝑜𝑓𝑓

a/n: I like Women In Mouth okay that's all, I think. This is yet another self-indulgent drabble turned full fic and I decided I wanted to post it so here ya go. I've had this AU for a while, but it doesn't have a name so.. suggestions welcome if you have any!

80s milf!Wanda AU. masterlist. 18+ only please. wc: 3k cw: mentions of edging and orgasm denial, soft dom!Wanda, perv neighbor!reader, imagined dubcon? [everything is consensual], mommy kink abound, Wanda's v vocal during sex, oral, finger sucking, overstim, face sitting, brief breast play, clothed sex for reader

One thing about Wanda, it wasn't enough to just feel good; she needed to feel euphoric.

"I'm so close, baby! So, so... ah-!" It was her second orgasm of the afternoon, sprawled out over her large mattress as she bucked against your face, wiggling and moaning with reckless abandon. It was torture to be good, to keep your hands curled around her soft thighs where Wanda placed them, but you knew it was all your fault. With all the alone time you'd had, teasing Wanda and drawing out her orgasms didn't seem like such a bad idea, especially after all she asked for was you laid between her legs.

But then you’d edged her time and time again, bringing her so close just to pull away with a smirk Wanda eventually had to slap off your face. She didn't think it was nearly as funny as you did, no matter how precious you looked with her arousal smeared across your flushed cheeks. Now why did you want to be so reckless with mommy, sweetheart? You don't get to be in charge when you refuse to behave.

You'd gone from being allowed free reign to a mere tool for her pleasure, but still you couldn't complain. Not when Wanda still lets you suck on her clit or flick it against the tip of your tongue. "Please can I taste this time, mommy? I'll be good!"

Words slurred and muffled, Wanda barely realized you were talking to her until you were tapping at her thighs for her attention, the signal you insisted on setting once she started asking for more precarious activities. Typically, she was more than willing to be patient with you, but today's stress made her insatiable and she needed you to behave and comply. 

"Fine, fine just stop talking!" Frantic hands buried themselves in your hair, tugging you impossibly closer as she cums after what feels like forever but couldn't be more than a few minutes. Somehow you wriggled your way down to her entrance, lapping all you could before sticking your tongue into her hole, working your tongue in and out while Wanda devolved into a series of pants. 

For a while the world melted away, the sensations of Wanda on your face, in your mouth, and wrapped around your ears making everything else seem inconsequential. You couldn't breathe, but you'd die happy under this goddess of a woman. But then her feet were digging into your sides and it was your turn to tune into her. 

"Too sensitive, fuck you have to stop-" The brunette's words weren't matching her actions, her grip keeping you pressed right against her, dragging you up until you got the hint to latch onto her swollen bud. The moment you did, Wanda's pleas only grew louder, the desperate chants to please stop, please honey! Please it's too much confusing you as she rut against your mouth with reckless abandon. 

You couldn't get away if you tried; each time you did, Wanda's legs wound tighter around your neck, forcing you to fulfill the latest fantasy she'd sprouted. One where you were eager and greedy and ever for her and everything about her, too single-minded to give a thought to what she could handle. It wasn't too far from reality; you already had those exact feelings for her, but you reveled in being shy; a trait she found equally endearing and frustrating. 

Wanda wanted you to let loose, needed it even. This was all an experiment for her post-divorce; she longed to be wild and free how she was denied to be so long and she was sure you'd indulge her, given how she'd caught you staring at her long before she spoke to you, but damn if you weren't intent on keeping that part of yourself away from her. So far. 

"You're gonna make me cum again, I can't, it's too much!" Confusion aside, Wanda in pure bliss was something you never wanted to miss. From the first time you caught her through her guest room window while watering her rose bushes to today, watching her fall apart in the same bed, but with you much closer, she was a sight to behold.

She let you go this time, neck feeling the strain as soon as you were allowed to move it on your own again. Wanda's legs draped heavily over your shoulders still, but you'd deal with that ache later as it came, unwilling to forfeit her lingering warmth. "I'm sorry if I hurt you... I was trying to pull away, but you were holding me so tight—"

"Turn over." Wanda cut you off before you could finish your dazed apology, nudging your shoulders to help flip you onto your back. You were sure she just wanted distance, until her thighs returned to your shoulders and Wanda hovered above you much too gracefully for a woman who just had three orgasms back to back.

You swore you had a question to ask her, but your thoughts rushed away as you followed her hand trail down her naked abdomen to her deep pink pussy, two manicured fingernails disappearing as she sunk them into her oversensitive entrance. She let out a soft hiss while she fingered herself, holding your attention when they drew out and made their way to rest on your quivering lips. "Open your mouth, honey. Mommy has something she wants to talk to you about."

No convincing needed, you opened up quickly, dutifully licking her arousal from warm fingers, but subtlety isn't what she was after. Pushing forward, her fingers bottomed out at the back of your throat and she was ever so pleased when you didn't gag. "I think you're lovely, really I do, but you're holding back on me, aren't you?"

A garbled 'nuh uh' was the most you could manage, mouth too full and brain too fuzzy. "Yuh huh," Wanda mocked, stroking your tongue painfully slowly, "I've seen how you watch me for a long time, how you brush against my breasts and ass 'accidentally'... I've even noticed a few pairs of my favorite underwear missing from my drawers always suspiciously after you babysit."

"I'm not stupid, I figured out you're a dirty little pervert the day I spied you stumbling away from my window." Your cheeks were so hot they felt like they'd melt off, Wanda grinning down at you like she'd caught a criminal. As humiliating as it was to be caught and cornered, her call out turned you on terribly; thankfully, she was sitting far enough up your body to miss how tightly you had your thighs clenched together. 

Wanda saw your embarrassment and laughed, petting your hair with her free hand. "Don't feel bad, darling. Your sneaking around is exactly why I let you into my bed in the first place. I want to see how intensely you feel about me firsthand; tell me how much you think about me, show me how badly you want to get your hands on me, all of it." 

"Unless," the brunette put on a show of a pout, insecurities peeking through for the briefest of seconds. "I don't live up to what you imagined? Is that why you keep hesitating?"

Your eyes went wide at Wanda's last comment, shaking your head so feverishly her fingers fell from your mouth. "No no, not at all! You're so pretty I don't know what to do with myself!" Desperate hands pawed at her hips and backside, anywhere you could reach to reassure her. "I don't want you to be too much for you is all."

"Be too much for me, I dare you." You nodded, agreeing to her challenge easily. If Wanda was on board for more, you had more than enough ideas to last a lifetime. "Good girl, now let's practice. What exactly did you do with my stolen undergarments?"

"I, um," Wanda stared down at you with so much curiosity; clearly she wanted a real answer... so you'd give her one. "I thought they looked pretty and soft so I took them home."

"And did what with them?"

"Wanda—"

"I know this is new, but you know my name, sweet thing. Tell me what you did with them." She was sitting low enough to feel her wet heat above your ribs, tantalizing warmth reminding you all too well of what you'd imagined that night after you darted out of her bedroom. "Now, baby. I don't have all day."

"I just wanted you so bad, mommy," It started as a moment of desperation, really. After an afternoon facing Wanda in shorts and a near see through shirt as you worked side by side in the yard, you were dangerously overheated and it wasn't from the summer heatwave. 

When she let you freshen up in her bathroom, you rationalized Wanda wouldn't miss one singular pair, but one turned to two and with your third last night, she must've put the pieces together. "When I got ready for bed, I took it out of my pocket and I couldn't help myself! I was only going to use them a little, but they felt so nice and then I started thinking about what they'd look like on you and how you never let me take yours off and how much I just want to touch you."

The truth was tumbling out faster than you could keep up, your embarrassment rising as Wanda's pupils dilated, eyes lidded as she listened to your dirty deeds. The only reason you kept going was how obvious it was riling her up all over again, "You stopped me earlier, but that's all I want to do with you! Just play and figure out what makes you feel best so I can do it over and over again. When I came, all I could think of was you doing it with me, having you in my mouth while fucked myself silly."

Wanda's legs were already trembling, but they worked long enough to settle above onto your face, silencing any further confessions. "Stick your tongue out, sweet pea, I'll show you exactly what makes me feel best."

She had minimal knowledge of the receiving end of oral, the majority of her hands-on experience coming from you and what she'd heard from friends. But Wanda thought about it often for years, bringing herself to orgasm countless times grinding against her pillow and wishing it was some pretty girl's face; now that she had you, she'd be a fool not to use the gorgeous face right in front of her. 

Still sensitive from earlier, as much as she wanted to make it last, she knew she couldn't. Still, Wanda wouldn't let it stop her from quelling the heavy pit she'd grown in her stomach after listening to you speak. Clit cautiously grazing over the rough surface of your tongue, Wanda sighed, once again using the top of your head for support as she started to grind deliberately, "Who knew I had such a naughty girl for a neighbor, stealing my clothes just to go home and dirty them all up..."

"Is that what you really want to do? Get mommy all dirty and messy? Keep me like a needy housewife you can get off to everyday?" You agreed as much as you could, wanting nothing more than to use her like she was describing so crudely.

As she spoke, one of your hands snuck into your shorts, shaky fingers running over your neglected folds. It wasn't that you didn't want her to know what you were doing literally behind her back, but you didn't want her to stop you either. You tried to keep quiet and it was working well until you processed her wetness dripping down your chin and you moaned, the vibrations turning her attention to just what you were up to. "Oh you perverted little thing, you really can't help yourself, can you?"

But Wanda's condescension was only surface level; seeing you masturbate to her was even more powerful than hearing about it. She wanted to be loved, adored, lusted after, worshiped even, if she was completely honest with herself, and you would give it to her. Turns out all you needed was a little push. "Go on, show me how you touch yourself when you miss me."

Her validation spurring you on, you finally began purposefully working yourself up in hopes of finishing together, but Wanda beat you to it. Playing with her own nipples sent her over and she came in a long stuttered groan, hips having long lost their rhythm. 

She was thoroughly spent, but your free arm held her in place just as she did with your head and suddenly Wanda was trapped to endure a barrage of kisses to the sore spot between her legs. "I need to sit, honey. I can't do anymore..."

"Not yet, wanna cum like this." If Wanda wanted you to use her, you would, forcing her to remain still while you took your turn with your own fantasy. You rolled your fingertips over your swollen bud in time with your tongue on hers, ignoring her cries and pushes at your shoulders. Even though it'd be your first, your orgasm wasn't far off, having held off all afternoon in favor of prioritizing the older woman's pleasure. 

"You can't, baby no please don't-" Your lips sucked her in and Wanda's cries weren't fake anymore, the overstimulation quickly bordering on pain. Just before it did, you let up, opting to put your tongue inside her once more, teasing her slick walls while you pumped two fingers into your own cunt; the mirror image of what you'd dreamt up mere nights ago alone. 

"Feels so good, too good.." Wanda grunted as your tongue pushed deep, filling her with such a unique sensation she was almost scared she'd pass out. She hated herself for stopping you doing this earlier, having been too impatient to think of anything but how badly she needed release; next time she'd remember how positively perfect it felt to lazily rock her hips while you thrusted in and out and trust you to do as she pleased. "Please cum for mommy, sweetheart! It's gonna hurt soon, please please, 'need you to cum for me—"

"'m so close.. do it with me, just one more time, please-!" A few curls of your fingers had you falling apart, squirming under Wanda as you whimpered against her fluffy sheets. Vaguely you could hear your lover's melody of noises and when you finally dropped your arm, she fell backwards, landing on her mattress with a definitive flop. 

The only sounds in the room were from the two of you slowly catching your breaths, Wanda's hands folding over her stomach as a series of dull cramps swept over her. "I suppose I told you to be too much so I can't scold you for that," Wanda weakly swatted your thigh, propping up on her elbows just in time to catch you moving to wiggle out of your shorts. "Ah ah, what do you think you're doing?"

She stops you in your tracks, elastic waistband snapping back on your hips. "Taking these off? They're sticky..."

"Aw, my poor little love, did you get yourself all messy?" Shyness back now, your head barely budged as Wanda sat up and stretched; but your eyes never left her full chest... and Wanda noticed. "If you keep staring, I bet you'll ruin any new ones I give you and that'd just be a waste."

Upsetting as it was, you knew better than to argue with her after you'd put her in such a blissful mood. "I know, I'm sorry, mama." It was a term you had yet to say aloud, but the admonishment you feared never came. Wanda only crawled her way up to recline against the headboard, beckoning you to lay across your lap which you did readily. "Can you take my shorts off at least?" 

"Only because you did such a good job today. Lift up," Wanda guided the cotton shorts down until you could kick them off yourself, freedom from the thick fabric making you a little less uncomfortable. Still, the remaining ruined fabric felt heavy on your upper thighs, the feeling worsening each second you rested so close to Wanda's bare breasts. It was so hard to keep your cool when she was right there and your brain kept churning. "You just never stop, aren't you tired?"

You shrugged, kissing along her rib cage as she gently cradled your head with one arm, humming contentedly when you felt her fingernails stroking over your hips and thighs, "It takes a bit more for me to be tired, I think."

Wanda kept quiet, wondering how she could possibly keep you in her bed longer. A slip of her fingers over your clothed sex gave her just the idea she needed. One slow nudge of her nipple brushing your lips was all it took to encourage you to take it, licking the bud to its peak with ease; she'd picked a girl with a talented mouth who loved to use it. 

Temporarily distracted, you didn't notice Wanda's hands slipping under your panties until she was spreading your folds, her touch as loving as it was teasing. "Since you're wide awake, tell me all about these thoughts you've been having about me, honey. Answer my questions well and I'll tire you right out."

[destinationtrekk]

new day new scenario 😼😼

first of all i was wondering if i could take the ⚡️ emote to avoid repeating that it’s me!! after the vacations scenarios (beach and travel abroad) id like to give something different!

reader working as usual, it’s any day like others when their period cramps get so baaaad to the point they have their hands holding their stomach, eyes closed in pain as they try to suck it up. after all it’s not like something considered as “dangerous” or “too much worrying” from other people so they don’t go complain about it to others. as they keep on working, the cramps would get so intense to the point they go to the bathroom quite often and everyone noticed something’s wrong. jill would definitely be the first to ask if they’re okay. as time passes and reader seems to be feeling worse and worse, wesker would notice too and he’d ask if everything is okay. when reader tells him it’s due to cramps he’d be skeptical at first because wdym a stars member can’t handle cramps? but when he sees how reader can’t even work anymore and he sees their head resting against the wooden desk, he’d pick them up from their seat and bring them to the infirmary, ordering the others to keep working. once in the infirmary he’d lay them down on the bed and he’d fetch heating pads and some painkillers. he’d stay there for few mins after he administered them with what needed. he then would get back to work, but after some time he’d eventually come back to check on them. the painkillers kicked in by then and reader is finally free from pain, their face softer and their breathing regular. wesker would genuinely smile as he sits on the chair in front of the bed and he’d hold their hand again for some time and once reader wakes up and it’s the end of the shift, he’d check on them once again and he’d ask them if they are able to walk or if they want a ride back home

oohhhhh stars captain wesker my beloved.

he's not the best at showing it, especially in front of others, but he worries about you. he wonders if you're okay, he hopes you have a good day, he cares so much. he's a little bad with people, that much is obvious, so it's not that he thinks you're weak when you say you're in pain. he obviously understands the biology of menstruation, but understand the effects is a different story.

nevertheless he starts to be concerned when he sees you struggling to sit upright and breathing harshly. this is his breaking point - he can't have his favorite officer collapsing due to negligence on his part. he's just being a good captain, right? no harm in carrying his favorite to the infirmary in his arms, right?

he knows it's bad when he sees the others' concerned faces, especially jill. she's not a hardass by any means, but he knows she doesn't offer sympathy or pity unless it's genuine. he's glad to know he can help, even if it's as small as feeding you painkillers, and if he's cradling your hand like precious treasure when you wake up - it's just because he's a good captain, okay?

[lillotte17]

I'm replaying DA:I, because of course I am, and I have just got to say that 10 years later I am still so salty about the retcon about the handling of Dalish mages. I seriously cannot fathom why they made that choice, it goes against everything we learned about Dalish culture in the first 2 games. EVERYTHING.

Dalish Origin in DA:O shows you that while somewhat insular, Dalish clans are FIERCELY protective of their individual members. Mahariel and Tamlen are just two hunters, but Keeper Marethari has the whole clan wait for Mahariel to recover (which takes several days at least) and then for them to mount a search and rescue for Tamlen, all while the threat of the nearby village sending soldiers to chase the clan off is looming over your heads. Zathrien's clan seems to have a similar mentality. Everyone knows everyone and even if they don't get along, they protect and care for one another. They are family. A single death is felt by everyone. One person leaving the clan is a reason for everyone to mourn. Children are cherished. Magic is precious. They wouldn't simply throw someone out into the cold, especially not a child.

In DAII, Marethari once again has the whole clan waiting in an unsafe place, hoping Merrill will change her mind and come home. Although she is the Keeper, it's not like the rest of the clan has no say in this. They all want her to come back. And they accept Feynriel and help him with his magic, despite him being half human.

Granted, you could make the argument that not all the clans are the same and some of them aren't as close or caring as the clans we've seen in the first 2 games, but even in DA:I, Keeper Deshanna writes to the Inquisition, hoping they will send Lavellan back to them and trying to smooth out any cultural misunderstandings that might have happened. She's clearly ready to extend whatever power she has to keep them safe, and get them back home.

I think it would bother me less if there was more of a mix in terms of how other characters spoke about Dalish customs, but literally every single character who has something to say about it tells you that clans dumping kids with magic in the woods alone is a common practice, and it just... It makes NO sense. Sure, maybe a few clans do it, but for it to be COMMON? No. They need to keep the clan numbers up, and they NEED to ensure that they have mages in the clan at all times. Their whole ideology is that their gods will return when they are 'true' elves again, and part of that is HAVING MAGIC. It makes no sense. It makes NO sense for them to just throw away children to let them starve in the woods. And why? to avoid Templars?? Do the Templars keep track of where every Dalsih clan is moving at all times?? How??? That doesn't make sense either.

Listening to Minaeve makes me CRAZY because she's so bitter (understandably) about what happened, but like...baby girl you were seven and traumatized, and the Chantry actively hates the Dalish and tried to wipe them out (repeatedly). Are you sure what you think happened is what actually happened, and not what they told you happened???

I dunno man, I just hate that rewrite a lot. I hope the new characters are proud of their heritage and setting the record straight about this kind of thing.

[beargyufairy]

Just My Thoughts Pt. 7

Natsu’s Growth

I’ve been disappointed a few times at how Hiro Mashima writes his characters and plot. But never have I ever been as disappointed as I was when I read this panel in the 100 YQ.

For reference, Natsu made a joke about disinfecting Lucy’s burns. It was not even a funny joke. I don’t think anyone laughed. Lucy was burned after trying to calm Natsu who consumed Ignia’s flames to battle against the water dragon god. While he did succeed in the fight, he lost control of himself and was stumped by the flames.

This is such a disappointing situation when it comes to Natsu and his development as a character. Everything he experienced in the original manga/anime is put to shame. It’s like his growth as a person disappeared into thin air. I mean come on!! Is Mashima being serious right now?! Because am I supposed to believe this is the same Natsu who wouldn’t let Gray use Ice Shell on more than one occasion?! Natsu knows the consequences of Ice Shell and refuses to let that happen to Gray no matter how dire the circumstances are. Even though Gray and Natsu would never admit it, their relationship is unique and filled with love. They may be rivals and opposite (considering the ice/fire, demon/devil slayer attributes) but their friendship has grown so much since the start of Fairy Tail. Doesn’t this show how considerate Natsu is?! How important the lives of his friends is to him?

If that isnt enough here’s another example. When Erza was sacrificing herself in the Tower of Heaven arc, Natsu refused to let her go and eventually saved her. Erza is important to him and Fairy Tail. He wants her to live on. Doesn’t this show how much Natsu cares about everyone?! Is he making a joke about Erza?! No he isn’t.

Okay fine those examples aren’t about Lucy right, so why does it matter?! Because Natsu would never joke about burning his friends, accident or not. And if it’s about Lucy, then most definitely not. Lucy is probably the member of Fairy Tail he cares about the most (aside from Happy). When Future Lucy died, Natsu almost went completely rogue (pun intended, if you know what I mean). He even stated that something precious was taken from him. Furthermore, when Lucy was “dead” during the Alverez arc, Natsu lost it. Literally, he became END, the demon everyone fears, the strongest creation of Zeref, the black wizard. Lucy’s life was so important to him that without it, there was nothing holding him back. He even stated that he can’t be stopped after having flashbacks about her supposed death.

Natsu couldn’t care less about the world ending. He wanted to fight the people that made Lucy cry. That’s what he was focused on. And so after all this, Mashima wants me to believe that Natsu would joke about burning Lucy?! Yeah, I don’t think so. After everything Natsu went through, he would’ve at least felt guilty. Considering that it was Lucy of all people he burned, he would’ve apologized over and over again. Why?! Because she’s so important to him. He literally became a demon when he thought she died!! Isn’t that proof enough?! I also think that he would feel so grateful to her. This isn’t the first time Lucy helped Natsu control himself. She’s always there for him. But Natsu has never lost control like this before. Did Natsu ever properly thank Lucy for saving by rewriting the book of END?! He’s literally only alive because of her. She tampered with a demonic force and black magic yet Lucy is so damn under appreciated that it pains me!!

If the goal was to lighten the situation considering the intensity of the battle against the water dragon god and Ignia’s involvement, a joke that doesn’t make Lucy’s burn seem pathetic would’ve been better. A joke about anything else would’ve been better. Seriously, Lucy knew the consequences of trying to stop Natsu, especially when noting that she was scared of his flames for the very first time. She did anyway because she cares about Natsu and knows that she can help him, even if it means she will get burned. I would also like to note that Lucy never actually saw Natsu as END. She arrived after he gained some sense of control. Considering everything, if Hiro Mashima doesn’t make up to me by having her fear of Natsu’s flame and her lack of experience with END play into the story I’m gonna be so mad. Since he already disappointed me with how he’s treating Lucy’s injury/burn, I really hope he plays the rest of the story properly.

I’m very disappointed in how not only Natsu’s character is being portrayed and downgraded, but also how Lucy is yet again the butt of the joke. She does so much for her team and friends but is always ignored (I’m still upset about Aquarius’ sacrifice that’s not talked about enough).

Thank you for listening.

[misspelledwordswizard]

Chapter 1 - Cool, everything went wrong

Next chapter

The sound of calm and steady footsteps echoed through the empty street, poorly lit by streetlights. Not a single car passed by at any time, and few of us were among the people who followed this wheel so late at night. Unfortunately for me, it was the only path that could be used to walk around the house while walking, or when there was a piece of land that ran along the road, or that was a little darker because it didn't have constant lighting, only when illuminated by occasional carriages.  

It was definitely not a habit I was used to, leaving work while walking at that time. Unfortunately for me, it seemed like the universe was against my fateful needs that day. When my alarm didn't go off and I woke up more than ten minutes late, having to leave the house without even having breakfast, and then, halfway to college, my car stopped. I tried everything to start it again, but it didn't work so well, so I had to call the tow truck and wait for them to take my precious car to the mechanic, so that, only then, I could catch a bus that would take me as close as possible to the university  

After a few minutes of trying to get to a bus stop and waiting, I was finally on my way to the hell of my daily life, at least I was blessed by fate to be able to enter, finally, no one really cares if you're in class or not, even if you arrive late. Well, that luck didn't last long, since I noticed that I forgot my materials and laptop in the car, and I had to watch the rest of the classes taking notes on my cell phone, it was particularly torture, so it was never more torturous than in Professor Jeffrey's classroom.  

When hell is over, I will move on to the next hell, a long drive to the local supermarket, where I will spend the rest of the day at the supermarket checkout, r hearing my supervisor's screams and addressing customer complaints. I just had to deal with a client causing a scene right at my cash register. Oh, great, one more in the list . Oh yes, on a long and happy day, all this just to be graced by the information that my car wasn’t ready after my shift, and that I would have to go walk home, after having stopped for almost two hours, waiting for it.  

Which brings me to this moment, where I am sulking, exhausted, with sore feet as I walk home at night, on an empty and scary street, without even a sign of life. I walk stomping my feet, finding no other way to express my own frustration, my legs already shaking from the effort I was not used to, all I could think about was getting home, taking a shower and sleeping.  

My stomach growled  

Oh, and to eat something, of course. At least tomorrow will be Saturday, I only had work in the afternoon and then I would be free from this suffering until Monday. This thought gave me the strength to continue, while my mind worked to calculate the route I should take if I wanted to get home today, always paying attention to my surroundings, it was never too much to worry, especially on a day as bad as this one.  

As I turned a corner, I noticed that there was a path that would allow me to cut a good part of the route home, instead of walking another kilometer just to get to the back street I could go through that alley, which would also reduce the time by about ten minutes, but, of course, this had to be a dark and suspicious alley, I don't think that could really be worth it, especially considering my colossal bad luck today.  

As soon as I thought about it, my aching legs became strangely noticeable, as if they were against the thought of taking the long way around - and they really were - heavens, I might be going crazy from exhaustion, but suddenly the idea of going through that alley wasn't so terrible, and also, wouldn't the longer route be an opportunity for more bad things to happen? At least through the alley I would get there faster which would give me less chance of something happening, right?  

Well, that seems reasonable, after all, it won't take me more than a minute to get through there, and there's absolutely no one around right now, the chances of something bad happening are minimal, I mean, I might be having a bad streak today, but I can't be that unlucky, right?  

Wrong  

I underestimated myself and how much the universe hates me, because it only took one step into that alley for a male figure to reveal himself from the shadows. He was tall and thin, wearing a worn and dirty sweatshirt, almost as dirty as his hair. The smell of cigarettes emanating from him was noticeable even from the distance between us. He was threatening, without a shadow of a doubt. There was no way I could be in that situation and not imagine that this man wanted the worst. I immediately tried to turn around and run away, but before I could do anything I heard his hoarse and rude voice.  

— Stop! - he gave the clear instruction, but before my brain could process it the man grabbed my wrist tightly, hurting me, I tried to fight to free myself, but before I could succeed, a knife was pressed against my throat. - Gimme your money, bitch!  

Of all the situations, I managed to get myself involved in one of the worst possible at the moment, of course, or else it wouldn't be me . I was scared, more than I would like to admit, I felt my body trembling, no longer from fatigue, I tried to speak, to beg not to be hurt, but my voice failed, desperate, I nodded frantically as I tried to get my bag for him, where my cell phone and wallet were. He kept my wrist pinned, but lowered the knife to grab my belongings, as soon as I saw the opportunity, I despaired and acted on impulse, I forced my wrist out of his grip, and as soon as I was free I turned and started running as fast as I could, abandoning my things, he screamed at me, but the sound was muffled by the pulsing sensation of my blood in my veins due to adrenaline.  

I don't know if it was my aching legs that gave out, if I tripped like the clumsy person that I am, or if I was knocked down, but in a matter of seconds I found myself face down on the ground, my face scratched and throbbing, but it didn't bother me, I needed to get up, I needed to get out of there, that was all I could think about at that moment, but I couldn't.  

No matter how hard I tried to get up, I couldn't, and my mind couldn't understand why, as I continued to feel a wet sensation reaching my back, I could soon see the red liquid spreading across the floor. It took a while for understanding to hit me, the adrenaline that ran through my veins preventing me from feeling any pain, but it was when my vision began to darken that I understood, that was where it all ended for me.  

Little by little, I began to regain feeling, only to be greeted by a sharp pain in my back, which sent electric currents throughout my body, but that didn't last either, soon my body no longer responded to me, I lost the feeling in my limbs, I could no longer see anything, I never thought that the last thing I would see in my miserable life would be my own blood spread across a dark and empty street, no one but me and my murderer, That's so me, the pure juice of bad luck.  

That's how my life ended.  

And it's also When my life begins .