#help panic button mode

[itneverendshere]

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - EIGHT

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mentions of pregnancy; abortion.

MASTERLIST

Topper prided himself in keeping out of people’s business.

He hadn’t noticed anything was off with you on his own, he wouldn’t have; he didn’t do the whole “emotional radar” thing.

But Rafe had practically cornered him, demanding he figure out what was going on with you.

You were his cousin, after all. 

That didn’t stop the way his stomach twisted from thinking about lying to you, or how every part of him had always silently rooted for you and Rafe. He’d loved seeing you two together. You were a mess most days, for years, sure, but it was the kind of mess that made sense in a way, and Topper couldn’t help but admire it.

You were like fire and gasoline.

But that was before the break-up, before everything got fucked.

Now, you were just… distant. He never knew how to approach you without feeling like he was crossing a line, but the way you’d passed out on Rafe at the beach had him worrying in a way that was more personal than he wanted to admit.

He wasn’t a thinker, not really, he liked simple things: good waves, cold beer, and not getting roped into drama.

But there he was, standing outside your door with Korean fried chicken. He didn’t do feelings, and he didn’t do heavy conversations. Rafe owed him big for this. The conversation had been good, even when you started talking about Sarah and Ruthie. 

Topper was all in—laughing along, throwing in a dumb joke here and there, the usual. It felt nice, like when you were kids, sneaking your dad’s beers and pretending you weren’t gonna get caught.

But then he had to go and ruin it by asking if you were okay.

You went all stiff, then weirdly far away, laughing it off like he’d just asked you to explain calculus or something. You mumbled something about being fine and then bolted to the bathroom before he could even follow up with his usual Topper-brand wisdom.

He sat there, feeling uncomfortable, which wasn’t a thing he usually did. You were acting off, and it was messing with him more than he wanted to admit.

Finally, he decided he needed to move, so he got up to grab some water. Except, as he walked past the counter, his hip caught a pile of your mail, and an envelope went sliding to the floor.

“Crap,” he muttered, crouching to grab it. It was just some random envelope, but there was a phone number written on the front in messy blue ink.

Topper didn’t think about it—because thinking wasn’t really his strong suit—he just whipped out his phone and typed it in. Curiosity, man. It got him every time.

He hit call. He wasn’t trying to snoop or anything. It was just one of those things you do on autopilot, right? Call a number just to see who answers? Except this time, someone did answer.

The phone rang. Once. Twice. Then:

“Women’s Health Center, how can I help you?”

His brain short-circuited, full-on panic mode. He stared at the phone like it had grown a second screen, then frantically hit the hang-up button just as the bathroom door creaked open.

You were back.

Topper, sweating for no reason, slapped the envelope back on the counter like it was about to explode and turned to you with a smile that definitely didn’t match his pounding heart.

He got out of there as soon as possible, as he drove to meet Rafe, the whole thing was still playing on a loop in his head. That phone number, the voice on the other end of the line, the way you’d acted when he’d asked if you were okay—he couldn’t stop trying to force the pieces into place.

Something was going on, he wasn't sure what, and he wasn’t exactly the guy you went to for deep insights, but he felt something was up.

When he pulled into Tanyhill, he spotted Rafe leaning against his truck, scrolling through his phone with that permanent scowl he seemed to have these days. He barely had the car in park before Rafe was pushing off the truck and heading his way.

He climbed out, doing his best to act normal—which, for him, meant cracking the same goofy grin he always did. His mind was still spinning with a dozen half-formed thoughts about that phone call, that clinic, and how the the fuck he might fit into all of it. 

The only thing he knew for sure was that Rafe knowing could be catastrophic. Like, meteor-hits-earth catastrophic.

“You gotta chill,” Topper said, slamming his car door shut and giving Rafe a once-over. “Why do you look like you’re about to punch somebody?”

Rafe just glared, shoving his phone in his pocket. “What’d you find out?”

He blinked, thrown by how fast he cut to the point. “Nice to see you, too. Second, what makes you think I found out anything?”

“Don’t fuck with me, Top. Did you figure it out or not?”

“Yeah, I figured it out,” Topper shot back, crossing his arms. “But why the hell did you make me go through all this work if you already know what’s going on?”

Rafe shrugged, leaning back against the truck like this was all just some casual conversation. “Didn’t think you’d actually get it, to be honest.”

“Bro, I’m not that stupid. How did you get to the bottom of this shit? I’m still confused as fuck over here.”

Rafe’s mouth twitched like he was deciding whether to smirk or yell, hesettled on neither. “She passed out on me, remember?”

“So?” Topper shot back, frowning. “I’ve seen you pass out for, like, way less.”

“It wasn’t the same. It wasn’t a hangover or heat stroke, it was different. And she’s been weird lately, avoiding everyone.” Rafe leaned back against his truck, arms crossed, talking fast. “The hospital did blood work.”

Topper, who’d been zoning out halfway through his little doctor act, suddenly perked up.

“Wow,” he mused, dragging the word out. “Okay. So, how’d you take the news? I mean, shit, you look pretty calm for once. Didn’t think that was in your wheelhouse."

Rafe frowned, his sharp blue eyes narrowing, the crease between his brows deepening like it always did when he thought someone was wasting his time. 

"The fuck are you talking about?”

Topper shrugged like this was totally normal. “I just expected you to, like…freak out or somethin'. Throw a punch, maybe.”

“Throw a punch about what?” Rafe snapped.

“About—” Topper paused, squinting at Rafe like he was trying to solve a puzzle. “Wait. What are you supposed to do?”

Rafe’s hand twitched toward his jaw, fingers brushing over the stubble there, a telltale sign that he was gearing up to lose patience. He didn’t wait for Topper to answer before shaking his head, the movement quick and irritated. 

“Don’t do that, man,” he added, pointing a finger “I’ll help her figure it out. What else can I do?”

Topper tilted his head, genuinely impressed. “Damn. You really matured, huh? I mean, good for you.”

“Top, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Rafe demanded, his tone sharp now like he was finally catching on to the fact that they weren’t on the same page.

Topper blinked, “I’m just saying you’re handling it better than I thought. Especially since she’s not—uh, showing yet.”

“Not showing what?”

“…The bump?”

He immediately realized he’d said the wrong thing, or maybe the right thing, but in the wrong tone, with the wrong level of context, and—okay, maybe he should just stop talking. 

Abort mission, abort mission. Topper immediately wanted to crawl into a hole. Dude, shut up, shut up, shut up.

“What the fuck?” Rafe’s voice cracked; his eyes blazing as he stepped closer. “What bump?!”

His laugh fizzled out under Rafe’s glare, it was starting to feel less like “concerned ex-boyfriend” and more like “interrogating cop.” He felt a bead of sweat slide down the back of his neck. 

Cool. Stay cool.

“Wait,” Topper held his hands up, trying to physically stop the situation from spiraling. “What do you think is wrong with her?”

His brain was spinning in a way it wasn’t built for. He was a simple guy—he liked clear problems and easy fixes. But this? This was a category-five disaster, and he was stuck right in the middle of it.

Rafe let out a sharp breath through his nose, dragging a hand through his hair, the small strands sticking up in every direction.

“I think she’s got a fucking infection! Why the hell would I think she’s pregnant?”

Topper hesitated, glancing toward the house like maybe Sarah or Wheezie might miraculously appear to save him. No such luck.

“Well fucking shit,” Topper blurted, the words tumbling out in a rush. His heart was pounding, and he was pretty sure he’d just signed his death warrant. “I—I didn’t say she’s pregnant, okay? I found this number, and it was for a women’s health center, and—fuck, man, I’m dead. I’m so dead.”

Rafe grabbed him by the collar, yanking him close. “Start talking. Now.”

“I wasn’t snooping, okay? It just—happened. I wasn’t trying to get in her business, but—”

“But what?” Rafe barked. His other hand twitched at his side, curling into a fist before flexing out again, a warning of how close Topper was to eating pavement, but Rafe wasn’t the one he feared right now.

You were going to kill him.

He could already picture the look on your face when you found out—those cold, furious eyes, the way your voice would drop, he was officially dead meat. He gulped, his mouth dry as his brain scrambled for something—anything—that wouldn’t get him killed or disowned.

“You better explain what the fuck you mean by ‘happened,’” Rafe growled, his grip tightening, giving Topper’s collar a shake, just enough to make his point clear.

Topper was done, leaving nothing but pure panic and the faint, distant sound of his voice saying things he definitely shouldn’t. 

“I called the number!” Topper yelped. “I didn’t even mean to, it was—dude, she’s gonna kill me, and I mean that literally. She will.”

“Not if I kill you first,” Rafe shoved him back, his grip finally loosening, his face unreadable now, which was somehow worse than when he’d looked ready to punch him. “You’re telling me you think she’s pregnant? And you didn’t remember to tell me sooner?”

“I didn’t!” Topper said quickly, panic bubbling over. “It’s not like she’s gonna tell me this kind of stuff.”

“Did she say anything to you? Anything about seeing a doctor or being sick?”

Topper shook his head so fast it made him dizzy. “I asked if she was okay, but she just brushed it off and changed the subject.”

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating, both of them staring each other down.

“No, no way. She’s probably… I don’t fucking know, changing her pill or something.”

Topper raised an eyebrow. “Changing her pill?”

“Yeah,” Rafe said quickly, “Or—what else do they do there? Those check-up things. Maybe she’s getting one of those.”

“Uh-huh,” Topper replied, not convinced but also not dumb enough to call him out on it outright. “Sure. Just a… routine check-up?”

“Exactly,” Rafe agreed a little too loud, his tone almost defensive as he started circling again, his hands gesturing wildly. “They don’t just deal with… y'know. They do all kinds of shit. Tests, prescriptions, all that stuff. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Topper scratched the back of his neck, his expression caught between agreement and unease. “I mean, yeah, they do other stuff… but don’t you think—”

“I don’t think anything, there’s nothing to think about. She’s fine. She’s—she’s fine.” He stopped pacing, standing rigid with his hands on his hips, glaring at the ground like it had personally offended him.

“Okay,” Topper started, his tone cautious. “I get that you don’t want to jump to conclusions, but—”

“I’m not jumping to conclusions!” Rafe barked, spinning around “You’re the one making it into something it’s not! She’s not—she wouldn’t—she hasn’t told me anything,” He muttered finally, “And if she’s hiding this… from me…”

He’d never seen Rafe like this—angry, yeah, but there was something else there, either way, it wasn’t good. His glare burned into him, but for the first time, there was hesitation behind it. He wasn’t just mad—he was scared. Topper couldn’t decide if that made him feel better or worse. 

“Holy shit,” Rafe muttered, gripping the side of his truck for balance. His vision going fuzzy as his heart raced like he’d just sprinted a mile. “Holy shit, what if—what if she is?”

“Dude, breathe,” Topper said, stepping closer cautiously like Rafe was a live grenade. “You don’t even—”

“Even if—if—she was, how the hell would that even—” He cut himself off, his face twisting like he couldn’t decide whether to finish the thought or abandon it entirely.

Topper didn’t need him to finish, he understood exactly what Rafe was thinking. The timeline, the breakup, the way everything had gone down between you.

Rafe’s breath hitched as he let go of the truck and paced a few steps, his hands on his hips, muttering under his breath. “No. No way. It’s not—she’d tell me, right? She’d fucking tell me.”

Images started flashing through his mind in rapid succession, each one more ridiculous and unhinged than the last. You, standing in some clinic, staring at a test with a blank expression. You, trying to figure out how to tell Rafe.

You, holding a baby—Rafe’s baby—in your arms.

“This doesn’t make any sense. We were careful. She’s just stressed, girls go through shit. Hormones or whatever. Right?”

“You’re asking me? I barely passed bio. I’m not exactly a walking textbook on—” He stopped himself, seeing the look on Rafe’s face. “I don’t know what’s going on with her, okay? But if this is what I think it is, you gotta handle it right. Don’t screw it up more than it already is.”

“And if I don’t handle it right?”

Topper forced a shaky grin, even as his stomach twisted in knots.

“Then I guess I’ll see you in hell, man. Because she’s gonna kill us both.”

Rafe’s hands went to his hips, his thumb brushing the edge of his pocket as he stared past Topper, he was trying to work out an equation that wasn’t adding up.

“She hasn’t said a word to me,” Rafe muttered, “Not at the hospital, not since. And you think…” He trailed off, dragging a hand over his face. 

Topper shifted on his feet, resisting the urge to bolt to the other side of the world.

“I guess, but I swear, it wasn’t on purpose.”

Rafe shot him a look, his brows knitting together, and Topper felt like he was under a microscope. “You called a random number. How does that ‘just happen’?”

He huffed, throwing his hands up. “I was grabbing some water, and her mail fell, and there was this number—I didn’t think! I just… acted.” He groaned, his head falling back as he stared at the sky. “I didn’t mean to put two and two together, but what was I supposed to do? You’re the one who made me go digging in the first place!”

“You really think that’s what’s going on?” Rafe asked finally, his voice quieter.

“You said she’s acting weird, and then there was that number, and…” He trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. 

“Do you even understand what this means? If she’s—if there’s a—” He broke off, “I’d have to—Jesus Christ, what would I even do? I’m not—God.”

His hands gripped the edge of the truck bed so hard his knuckles turned white, the veins in his arms standing out as he glared at the ground like it had personally offended him.

“If she didn’t tell me—” His voice was low, quiet in a way that made Topper wince because he knew what came next.

“Maybe just... ask her?”

 “Ask her?” he repeated, his voice disbelieving.

“Yeah, you know,” Topper said, gesturing vaguely. “Talk to her? Maybe find out what’s going on instead of losing your shit over worst-case scenarios?”

Rafe shook his head, “No. If she wanted me to know, she’d tell me. She’s... she’s dealing with her own stuff. It’s not my place to push.”

 “Since when do you not push?”

“Since now,” Rafe snapped, though even he didn’t sound convinced.

“Rafe—”

“No, seriously,” Rafe interrupted, his voice rising now, the tight restraint unraveling with every word. “If she’s—if she’s going through this, if she’s pregnant, and she didn’t tell me?” He let out a bitter chuckle, “What the fuck does that say? About me.”

Topper opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed it again. This felt like a minefield, and if anyone was good at stepping on the wrong spot, it was him.

Rafe pushed off the truck, he couldn’t physically stay still. His eyes were burning as he raked a hand through his buzzed hair.

“I was—fuck. She thinks what? That I wouldn’t show up for this. She didn’t tell me because she doesn’t think I deserve to know.”

“That’s not true,” Topper said quickly, stepping closer, but Rafe’s empty laugh stopped him.

“Isn’t it?” Rafe’s voice was hollow now, all the fire drained out of him, turning his head slightly, just enough for Topper to see his throat working as he swallowed hard. “What the hell have I ever done to make her think I’d be there? That I’d—” He broke off. “Shit. I wouldn’t blame her. I can't even fucking blame her.”

“You still care about her, right?” Topper pressed, knowing he didn’t have to ask to know the answer.

Rafe’s head snapped up, “She’s the only thing I’ve ever cared about.”

He nodded slowly, “Then prove it.”

The envelope sat exactly where you’d left it, the faintest corner of folded. You froze for a second, your pulse quickening.

No. No way.

It was fine. Fine.

The number wasn’t even labeled—just digits scrawled hastily, you hadn’t touched it in days. Still, you couldn’t stop the tiny seed of panic attaching itself to your chest. There was absolutely no way Topper could’ve seen it, let alone put two and two together.

You exhaled slowly, placing it back on the counter.

He didn’t see it. He couldn’t have seen it.

Then why had he acted so… off? The pale face, the sudden excuse, the jittery energy—it was all so unlike him.

You shook your head, trying to push the thought away, a million things could’ve set him off. 

Maybe Ruthie had texted him something awful, or maybe he’d remembered he had to pick up his dry cleaning before the shop closed. Knowing Topper, it was probably something stupid and unrelated to you entirely.

Still, the nagging lingered as you cleaned up the counter and threw away the napkins. You glanced at the envelope one last time, then slid it into a drawer and shut it firmly. Whatever was going on with your cousin, it couldn’t have anything to do with that. It was impossible. And yet…

You sighed, rubbing your temples. 

“Pregnancy brain,” you muttered to yourself. “Making me paranoid over nothing.”

Of course that didn’t stop your heart from jumping every time the drawer creaked, or when you saw anything even remotely similar to that envelope’s color lying around the house for the entire night. Not that he’d ask, of course—Topper wasn’t the confrontational type, especially not with you. But he noticed things. And when he noticed, he worried.

The next morning you sank onto the couch, hugging a pillow to your chest. Topper was close, but he wasn’t like Sarah. She had been able to look you in the eye and say, You know I’m here, right? and mean it without any strings attached. Topper, though…

Your fingers itched toward your phone, even though it was stupid to call her so early over this. Still, you needed someone to remind you that you weren’t losing it, that Topper’s weirdness had nothing to do with anything serious.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you found Sarah’s number, pressing the call button. She picked up on the second ring, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You could picture her, sitting in her car or probably stretched out somewhere in Poguelandia with her feet propped up on a table, looking concerned.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just…” You trailed off, fiddling with the edge of a pillow. 

“Topper’s been acting strange. And I think I’m just overthinking it, but it’s making me crazy.”

She made a sound between a hum and a laugh. “So the Topper panic spiral. That’s what we’re dealing with?”

“Basically,” you muttered, trying to keep your tone light. “But this time… He was here last night, and I thought he saw this random piece of paper I had with, you know. A number on it.” You took a shaky breath, embarrassed for how paranoid you sounded. “But he couldn’t have, right? I mean, it was buried under five other things.”

“Okay,” Sarah said slowly, clearly choosing her words. “First, let’s just say that if he did see anything, which he probably didn’t, he wouldn’t assume the worst. He’s your cousin; he knows you don’t tell him everything, and he respects that. Right?”

“Yeah… I guess.” You chewed your lip, feeling a little stupid for even calling her.  “But what if he does put it together, Sarah? I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

“He won’t,” she reassured, like she could see right through your anxiety. “And you don’t need to feel bad for wanting to keep this private. You’re allowed to handle it however you need to. You’re not doing anything wrong.”

You exhaled, the knot in your chest loosening a little. She always knew how to talk you down, "Okay,” you murmured, and a shaky laugh slipped out. “Maybe I'm being paranoid.”

“Pregnancy brain,” she teased, and you couldn’t help but smile.

You hung up feeling marginally better.

Sarah had a way of calming you down, but the uneasiness stayed with you, the way it always did when you couldn’t fully explain something.

But the relief was fleeting, by lunchtime, the nagging voice in your head was back. Topper wasn’t malicious, but he did have a habit of talking without thinking, and the last thing you needed was for this to get out before you were ready. Not only was this a huge scandal, but it was your business.

You busied yourself with small tasks—folding laundry, wiping down the counters, pretending that everything was fine. It wasn’t until almost noon that your phone rang. The hospital’s number flashed on the screen, and your stomach dropped.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Miss Thornton?” the voice on the other end asked politely, too polite for comfort.

“This is she."

“This is Linda from the hospital. I’m calling about your recent bloodwork. We had a bit of an issue with our system, and unfortunately, there was a delay in getting back to you. We also lost some patient information temporarily—”

“Wait, what?” you interrupted, not liking where this was going, “What do you mean you lost information?”

“Oh, nothing to worry about,” Linda said quickly, as if that would make you feel better. “We managed to recover most of it, but in the meantime, we had to rely on emergency contact information to reach out. Dr. Harris called yours last night.”

Your breath caught. “Called... my emergency contact?”

“Yes.”

“Sarah Cameron? She didn’t tell me someone called.”

“She’s not listed as your emergency contact in our system, Rafe Cameron is. It might be an older record?”

Fuck.

Your heart was in your throat. “What... what did he tell him?”

“He only left a generic message asking for you to follow up about your bloodwork. Nothing specific.”

“Nothing specific,” you repeated, more to yourself than to her. Relief and panic warred within you. If Rafe knew, he’d already be there, the night before, demanding answers. Right?

“We need you to come back in. It’s possible you may have an infection, and we need to run a few more tests.”

You didn’t even hear the rest of her explanation.

Your fingers felt numb as you mumbled something that vaguely resembled agreement and hung up.

Infection, that was what she’d said. That was all it was. Not… not anything else. If it were anything else, they wouldn’t have just called—they’d have told Rafe.

“Stop,” you muttered aloud, shaking your head. “Stop spiraling.”

But your brain wouldn’t listen.

“Generic message,” Linda had said, but did it sound generic? What did he think when he got it? Had he laughed it off, or was he running his stupid pristine bedroom, piecing together clues you hadn’t even realized you’d left?

You didn’t want to text Sarah again.

You could imagine her smirking, “I told you, he’s not going to magically grow psychic overnight.” Yeah, sure, but this was Rafe.

He didn’t need magic. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on Sarah’s voice in your head. “You’re not doing anything wrong.”

Except it didn’t feel like that. You hadn’t thought about Rafe as your emergency contact in months, hadn’t needed to. 

You sank into the couch, hugging your knees to your chest.

“This is so stupid,” you muttered, but your voice didn’t make it feel any less real. You weren’t even sure what you were spiraling over anymore. The envelope? The hospital? The baby?

“Okay,” you said out loud. “Okay, it’s fine. Everything’s fine.”

The sound of your voice didn’t even convince you. Your brain wouldn’t stop jumping from one thing to the next, spinning every scenario you didn’t want to think about. 

What if he did know? If that was enough to set him off, to make him call someone, pull some strings...Shit, what if he did show up, and you had to explain why you were dodging everyone and keeping things from him and—stop. 

Stop. 

You were doing it again. The spiraling. The pregnancy brain Sarah teased you about like it was some sort of cute quirk, but wasn’t cute.

You sat up straight, squeezing the couch pillow so hard you thought it might burst. Breathe. Just breathe, you’d made it this far without imploding.

You glanced toward the drawer again, the one with the envelope. You should’ve burned it, shredded it first. No, you had to keep it—just in case. But just in case of what? Just in case you needed more reasons to feel like a lunatic.

Oh my god. What if Topper saw the stupid number, and then Rafe got the hospital call, and then—bam—suddenly, they had the whole damn thing figured out?

You could feel it already—the panic. You liked to think they were both too stupid for their own good, but they were also observant. Rafe, that bastard always knew how to put things together faster than anyone. 

What if—what if it’s that simple for them? What if they both saw it, and then they were just sitting there, having some stupid-ass conversation, connecting dots you didn’t even realize were dots?

No. Stop. Stop thinking like that.

You were getting carried away, jumping to conclusions like some manic soap opera character. You weren’t that girl. Not really. But the thought of them talking—Topper with his concern and Rafe with his overbearing intensity.

Your fingers tapped a frantic rhythm against the pillow. The idea of him figuring it out? Oh, that made your skin crawl. Not because he’d be cruel—no, that wasn’t his style. He’d just be so… himself.

Overwhelming, determined to “fix” things for you, even when you didn’t ask for it. 

You groaned, dropping the pillow and standing abruptly, like the movement might kill the growing dread. No, you told yourself firmly.

You weren’t spiraling over things that hadn’t even happened yet.

But the voice in your head, the one that always sounded a little too much like Rafe, had other plans: What if it’s already too late?

You paced the living room, arms crossed tightly over your chest. This was ridiculous, you were ridiculous. Nothing had happened, nothing was going to happen. The number wasn’t even that suspicious, it could’ve been anything.

You groaned again, flopping onto the couch like the dramatic mess you were currently embodying. Rafe had probably gotten the hospital call, rolled his eyes without a second thought, too busy with his new precious life.

Your stomach churned, and you pressed your hands against it instinctively. It wasn’t showing yet—thank god—but you couldn’t help the way your mind spiraled back to it, to all the ways this could go wrong.

You grabbed your car keys without thinking, maybe it would clear your head. A drive—that’s what you needed. Get out of the house, and put some distance between you and the stupid envelope, the phone calls, all of it. You turned the knob, yanked the door open—

—and froze.

Rafe’s hand was raised mid-air, clearly about to knock. You didn’t even try to hide the way your breath hitched. 

Oh, no. No, no, no.

Standing there on the porch like he hadn’t just derailed your entire plan. As if it was still perfectly normal for him to show up unannounced, one hand shoved into his pocket and the other gripping his phone, his head tilted in a maddeningly familiar way.

His hand hovered uncertainly on the doorframe as you stepped back, your arms folding protectively over your chest. He didn’t push past you, didn’t move his weight forward—just stood there.

He glanced down at the spare key still in his hand, turning it over like he was considering whether he even had the right to use it. “They called me last night.”

Okay, he was just here because of the hospital, a coincidence, that’s all it was.

“And? You could’ve ignored it.”

His hand flexed at his side like he didn’t know what to do with it. “I thought something might be wrong.”

“It’s not.” Your voice was clipped, cold. “They called the wrong number. End of story.”

He didn’t rise to the bait.

“I thought—” He cut himself off, exhaling sharply. “I thought you were sick.”

“Like I said, it was a mix-up.”

His jaw ticked. That tiny muscle in his cheek twitched, the one that always flared when he was suspicious.

“Funny, they didn’t sound mixed up when they said your name,” he drawled, his tone probing. “Wanna try again?”

“Mind your fucking business,” Your voice was defensive, and you hated the crackle of guilt in your chest when he flinched. “I don’t need you to pretend to care. Why are you even here?” you snapped, taking a step back. The space between you felt vulnerable. “Don’t you have someone else to worry about?"

You felt cornered with every second he stood there.

“We need to talk.”

Maybe if you acted calm, like nothing was wrong, he’d stop looking at you like that. Vulnerability wasn’t something you were good at, he’d already taken too much. He always took too much.

“I don’t owe you shit. Not explanations, not answers, nothing. Leave.”

He didn’t. Of course, he didn’t.

Rafe didn’t know how to let shit go, not when it came to you, he didn’t back away.

“You’re right,” he said, surprising you. “You don’t, but I’m not leaving until we talk.”

The way he said, it wasn’t even a threat. It was worse than that. It was calm, resolute, like he’d already decided, and nothing you said or did could change it. 

That scared you more than anything.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you hissed, “Whatever you think you know, you don’t.”

He arched an eyebrow, his eyes flicking to the edge of the couch where your phone still sat, “You sure about that?”

“God, you’re always like this. Always overstepping, always assuming—”

“I know."

All the noise in your head—your spiraling thoughts, your excuses, your endless denials—went silent, except for the way your heart thudded in your chest, so fast, it hurt. He hadn’t raised his voice, but those two words hit you like a kick to your chest.

No, he couldn’t—he didn’t, he was bluffing, he had to be. Air caught in your throat, and for a moment, you thought you might choke on it. He didn’t move, didn’t repeat himself. He couldn’t know.

Your tongue went dry. 

“What are you talking about?” You couldn’t breathe. It felt like someone was squeezing your chest. You shook your head again, more violently this time, stepping back, “You don’t know shit.”

“I think I do.” His voice was quiet, and that made it worse, it wasn’t cold or angry; it wasn’t even accusing. He didn’t sound like he wanted to be right, he just sounded tired.

You prayed to come up with something—anything—to deflect, to deny, to keep the truth buried where it belonged. 

“You’re delusional,” you took another step back, putting more space between you and the man who had always known you too well.

He just shook his head, “You don’t have to lie to me, you’re scared, you’re not even trying to hide it.”

It was the way he stared with those stupid blue eyes, he was peeling back your layers. He always did that, made you feel like he could see something in you that you weren’t ready to acknowledge.

“Oh, fuck off.” You threw your hands up. “You don’t know shit about what I’m feeling. You’ve got no right to—I’m not lying.”

It still hurt how much you missed him, hurt to even look at him.

“Don’t pull this cryptic bullshit with me, if you’ve got something to say, say it.”

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

The thing you’d been running from, denying, hiding, you simply stared at him, trying to decide if there was any way to lie your way out of this.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You tried to laugh, but it came out strangled, desperate. “T-That’s insane. You’ve lost your mind.”

Rafe wasn’t gloating or triumphant—he just looked… resigned, he’d pieced it together before he showed up.

“Don’t do that. Don’t lie to me, not about this.”

You wanted to scream, to shove him, to do anything that would make him stop looking at you like he cared. Like he knew you. Because if you stopped long enough to think about it, you knew it was over.

He’d already seen it.

“I mean it, Rafe.” Your hand tightened on the door, nails digging into the wood. “Get the fuck out of my house.”

God, this was so fucked. You wanted him gone, but wanted him here, needed him to leave you alone, but at the same time, you hated that he could just leave.

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

You thought about what he’d do if he knew—really knew. Not just the vague sense he had now, but the details. Would he try to stop you? 

Your lip quivered, and you hated yourself for it. “You’re wrong.”

You stared at him, at the way his shoulders hunched slightly, his usual confidence worn down. You hated him for being calm for once in his fucking life, for being here, for not letting this slide when it was none of his fucking business.

“Am I?”

Your hands clenched tighter, nails biting into your palms. “Why? Why do you even care? It’s not like you—”

“Because it’s mine.”

Your breath hitched again, and this time, you couldn’t hide it. You wanted to deny it, to throw something—hell, anything—back at him to make him shut the fuck up. But your throat felt like it had shut off entirely, and your mind had gone blank.

“I—” you stammered, shaking your head violently, “No. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re—”

“Hey, hey, just—just stop,” he said, his voice careful, as if he was trying not to spook you. “I’m not—Jesus, I’m not here to fight with you, okay? I’m not here to make this harder.”

Your chest heaved, a bitter laugh escaping before you could stop it. He was too late—late to care, late to help, late to fix anything. Five days, that’s all you had to get through.

Five days until you didn’t have to think about it anymore. 

This is the right choice, you told yourself for the hundredth time. You couldn’t bring a baby into this mess.

“You’re doing a hell of a job at that.”

“I just want to help. If you let me—”

“No,” you interrupted, grabbing the edge of the door. “I’m fixing it.”

“Fixing—?” Rafe’s brow furrowed, his confusion almost comical He started to step forward, but you stopped him with a resentful glare that made him stop. “What does that even mean?”

“It means you can take your fake concern and shove it up your ass.”

His brow furrowed. “It’s not fake—” His face twisted in confusion, mouth opening like he was about to argue, but you didn’t give him the chance, slamming the door in his face, so hard the frame rattled.

“Of course. Of course, it’s mine,” you muttered to yourself, mocking his stupid, self-righteous tone.

You leaned back against the door, sliding to the floor, arms crossed over your knees as your brain whirred like it was trying to kill you.

It wasn’t like you had a choice.

Technically, you did, but what were you supposed to do? Keep it and become a tragic sob story? The words almost felt like you’d ripped them out of someone else’s mouth, right or wrong didn’t even matter anymore. There wasn’t space in your life for this—for him, for a baby, for any of it.

A muffled knock sounded from the front door—tentative, like he was giving you a moment.

“Go away,” you yelled, your voice hoarse.

“Open the door.”

Your thoughts taunted you with memories and possibilities you didn’t want to entertain. The way Rafe had looked at you—like he knew—it was unbearable.

How had he put it together? Maybe you'd slip up in tiny ways, leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for him to follow. You hated yourself for being so careless, despised him even more for being so fucking relentless.

You wiped your cheeks roughly, not realizing you’d started crying until your sleeve came back damp.

“Please, just open the door. We can talk—just talk, okay?

“No,” you muttered to the empty room. “No, I’m not doing this.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, leaning your head back against the door and pressing your hands over your ears to block him out. 

“Don’t shut me out like this,” he begged. “I can’t—fuck, I can’t stand it when you do this. Just open the door. Five minutes, that’s all I’m asking.”

He had a key. If he wanted to, he could let himself in at any moment, but he didn’t, that wasn’t the Rafe you were used to.

Before, he'd have barged right in, shouted until your ears bled, and demanded answers. He would’ve tried to fix it or destroy it, maybe both. 

You hated that he still acted like he cared, that he was trying to be so fucking reasonable now, when just a few months ago, he would’ve lost it, broken through any barrier to get what he wanted.

This was worse, this Rafe was wearing you down.

Another hushed plea made it through the door, but all you could think was how thin the wood felt, how it barely drowned the sound of his voice. A new door might be better, something heavier, more solid, that could drown out everything—the desperation, the crack in his voice.

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, and you bit hard on the inside of your cheek to keep them from falling. 

“I know you’re scared,” he continued, “And I know you think I’ll screw this up—God knows I probably will. But please don’t keep me in the dark. Just tell me what’s going on.”

You pictured flipping through hardware store catalogs, weighing your options: oak? steel? soundproofing foam?

“Please,” Rafe whispered, and the rawness in his voice scraped against you like nails on a chalkboard. You tilted your head back against the door, willing yourself not to cry again. 

Steel doors don’t warp as easily as wood.

You swallowed hard, your body aching as you fought the sob threatening to escape. He didn’t deserve this—didn’t deserve to sound so wrecked over you. He'd done this to himself.

Your fingers twitched against the door handle, the temptation to open it curling around you, but instead, you thought about bolts.

Deadbolts, a second lock could work, something he couldn’t get through even if he had the key.

His voice wavered again, you thought he might start crying, too, yet all you did was glance at the base of the door. A better seal would muffle the noise more. Maybe weatherstripping? That could help.

You pressed your hands tighter over your ears, as though it would help. It didn’t. Nothing would—not until you replaced the lock, the door, the memory of him standing there and breaking himself open for you.

God, you really needed a new door—and a new heart.

One that didn’t twist at the sound of his voice, that didn’t flinch every time he called your name like it was a prayer. A heart that didn’t feel for him, you told yourself, over and over, like a mantra. If you could just stop the way your chest tightened at his pleas, stop the ache in your ribs when he said he couldn’t let this go.

You wanted steel walls, that could keep everything out—his voice, his touch, the memories of all the good parts of him that had kept you hanging on for so long. Because of this heart? It was useless, too soft, too easily swayed, still willing to believe him, even when you knew better.

“Please, just talk to me,” Rafe begged. You bit your lip hard enough to taste blood.

You couldn’t help but wonder if this calmness came from Sofia.

Perhaps she was the reason he’d changed, maybe she had somehow made him different, had softened the sharp edges of the guy you used to know. She was calm, collected—nothing like you. It hurt like a bitch, the thought that someone else could make him this patient. You wondered if she’d taught him how to handle his emotions, how to be this way—he’d learned some secret he never bothered to share with you.

You couldn't let yourself go there, couldn't let the bitterness of that thought settle in your mind for too long.

“Talk to me.”

No. Not this time.

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige

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@psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2

@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt

[luveline]

oooh what about hotch's sister calling spencer to pick her up at the hospital after an accident or something because she doesn't want hotch to know since worry and go into protective big brother mode, but spencer tells him anyway and they both show up and lots of fluff ensues :)

adopted fem!reader, 1.5k

cw for panic attacks

You should call your brother. 

You think about it, even pull up his contact, he’s the first person you go to when you need help and he always has been, but lately Aaron has been so stressed you hesitate, clicking the text button by mistake. 

You read back his last message. 

I can feel myself being spread too thin but there’s nothing I can do to fix it, he’d text. I guess I’m frustrated. But how are you, working girl? New jobs are scary. I bet you’re doing better than you think already. Jack and I are super proud of you

You’d sent him a meagre response. You aren’t always sure what to say to him. Sincerity is easier in person, but even then, he can be terse and deflective; he looks after you and no one looks after him. 

You didn’t tell him about work, and you won’t tell him about now. You call Spencer instead. This is a good way to test the almost dating thing, right? 

He doesn’t answer. When you call again, he answers on the first ring. “Hey, are you okay?” 

“No. Are you busy?” 

“I’m not busy if you’re not okay. Two seconds.” There’s a pause where you assume he’s moving from one place to another, perhaps closing a book around his hand, or closing the lid on an early lunch. “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m, uh, in hospital. I had a huge panic attack at work and I… thought I was having a heart attack, so I–” You’re so embarrassed your voice turns to a thread. “Sorry, I know it’s so stupid.” 

“It’s not stupid, that’s not stupid. How do you feel now?” 

“Like someone hit me really hard in the chest.” 

“Are you calmed down?” 

“Mostly.” You wince. “They want to talk to me about medications. Uh.” You clear your throat. “I want to go home.” 

“Angel… I’m on my way, okay? I’ll get Hotch and–”

“You can’t tell him.” 

“What?” 

“Please, Spencer, he gets so worried, he’s worried enough. And if he finds out I had a panic attack he’ll try and make me take time off of work and that’s just another thing on his plate he didn’t ask for–”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says softly, “please don’t panic. You’ve had a hard morning, panicking again is really gonna hurt. Try and think about things that don’t wind you up, alright? Is there anything you need me to get?” 

“You don’t have to come.” 

“That’s why you called me, right? I’ll be there.” 

You can’t know that he says goodbye and ducks straight back into Hotch’s office, where he’d been, to tell on you. It’s not to hurt you and it isn’t because you told him not to —it’s two parts concern, and one part self preservation. Aaron needs to know and you need him with you, and he also can’t imagine things going well for himself if he kept the news of your stay a secret. The shovel talk plays in his mind. 

Aaron’s shovel talk being, You won’t do anything to hurt her, said simply, and with an impassive expression that bordered terrifying. Not overly unaffected, just casual. 

You’re laying in your hospital bed with your hands clasped across your stomach when Spencer arrives. He frowns at you in your bed, worse when he sees your smudged makeup and the chafed inside of your wrist where you’ve picked and squeezed at your own skin. Your panic has left a physical mark, your chest aching as you force yourself to sit, and it hurts doubly so when your brother lets himself in behind your nearly-boyfriend.

You don’t have it in you to complain. 

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says, reaching down to give you a quick hug as you sit. “I had to tell him.” 

 Aaron’s hug is similarly apologetic, though much longer. “You weren’t gonna tell me?” he asks quietly, his hand settling at the place between your shoulders. “How do you feel now?” 

“I’m fine, I– I really thought I was having a heart attack.” 

“That’s common,” Spencer says, “it’s the feeling of impending doom, thousands of people mistake anxiety for medical issues every week.” 

Aaron holds you by the shoulders. “It’s okay,” he says. “Was it a doctor that checked you out, or a nurse?” 

Aaron probes the name of your nurse from you and promises to be back soon. He seems to have gleaned that the quickest way to get information today won’t be from you. 

Spencer goes in for another hug when he leaves, and then, to your delight, a very quick kiss pressed to your cheek. He ducks away after that and sits on the side of your hospital bed, his knuckles gracing the outside of your thigh. “Thank you for calling me,” he says, smiling at you, and better when you smile back.

“Thanks for coming.” 

“Of course. I know how it feels, okay? If they want to talk about medication it’s a good thing, but everyone has moments like this.” 

“I can’t believe you told Aaron,” you say, giving a weak but playful glare.

“I can’t believe you weren’t going to. He loves you, he wants to know what’s hurting you, no matter how much stuff is on his plate.” 

You bite the inside of your lip, contemplative for a few slow seconds. “You think so?” you ask finally. 

The hair flicked under his ears wobbles as he nods. “Absolutely.” 

You lean forward to readjust his collar and tie. He’s wearing one of his cutesy waistcoats, dark grey over a light blue shirt. His tie has patterns you trace with your thumb, like fish scales. “Sorry, I know you were working,” you murmur. 

“I think my boss will forgive me.” 

You let your hands fall. Spencer, perhaps picking up on a hint you hadn’t meant to give, takes them both into one of his and squeezes reassuringly. 

“It’s harder than I thought,” you confide softly. 

“It’s an adjustment period. But maybe it’s not right for you, there. That’s what started it, right? Your job.” 

“I’m not sure. I don’t know. I get panicky about all sorts of stuff, but I’ve never had one this bad before. I was a miserable kid, you can ask Aaron, but I really thought I was better.” 

He rubs over your fingers with his thumb. “I think we all have stuff that messes us up. Doesn’t mean you’re not better. You don’t even really have to be better. And I… I am here for you, I promise. I know you have no reason to trust me with it yet, but I’ll listen whenever you need me to.” 

You think about kissing him. Spencer kisses like he’s suffocating and your air, it’s cliche and undeniably true. Whenever you kiss him it’s like a shock —he steals your breath, he can’t stop himself from grabbing your face, and any other time you’d love it, but right now you just need a peck. You’re hoping he can do those kinds of kisses too. 

“Will you kiss me?” you ask tentatively.

He gets the memo on gentleness. You shouldn’t be surprised, your very first kiss was tame, his hand running up your arm as he encourages you forward. Your eyes shutter closed at the feeling of his lips on yours, and the exhausting thrumming that’s lived beneath your skin since you woke up numbs to a more manageable ache. 

Spencer breaks away. He cups your cheek quickly, dropping it immediately when the door opens. 

You shuffle backward nonchalantly. 

Aaron gives you a sarcastic look. Really? it says. I wasn't born yesterday. 

“They want to give you a prescription for Paxil, honey, what do you think?” He turns his attention to Spencer reluctantly. “What’s her best option here?” 

“Paxil could be fine. They didn’t suggest a benzodiazepine? Paxil is an SSRIs, it slows down the rate of serotonin reuptake, basically increasing the effectiveness of your bodies natural serotonin, which could decrease the risk of another attack, but taking it won’t stop her from feeling like this,” —he frowns at your location— “very quickly. Ideally she should have a medication for general anxiety and the option for quicker relief if this happens again.” He smiles at you suddenly, nearly shyly. “If that’s what you want, that is.” 

“What are you thinking, honey?” Aaron asks you. 

You have the two of them here to look after you while you decide. You take Spencer’s hand gently, desperate for reassurance. “I’m not sure.” 

“It’s okay, we’ll work it out,” your brother promises. 

Spencer squeezes your hand. 

[fandoms-x-reader]

Baby Daddies

Requested Anonymously

Headcannons

Summary: How would the Seven Demons Brothers be as fathers to babies. The Seven Demon Brothers x (Suggested Fem!) Reader A/N: They/Them pronouns but mentions of MC being pregnant

Lucifer is actually very good at raising babies.

He’ll blame it on the fact that he had tons of practice with raising his brothers.

But, anyone could see that he just had really good paternal instincts.

It will be a little bit of a challenge, to have a child with Lucifer.

He had so many responsibilities as Diavolo’s right-hand man; and, even though Diavolo never forced Lucifer to work, you knew those responsibilities were important to him.

So, you end up watching your baby most of the time while he spends long days working.

If it’s stuff he can do in his study, Lucifer will happily ask you to stay in the room with him.

He’ll play with your baby in between doing his paperwork and when it comes to a point where he could take a break, he immediately scoops your baby into his arms.

He’ll walk around the office, holding your baby and you have to stifle a laugh at some of the things that come out of mouth ~ it is definitely out of character for Lucifer.

He’ll walk towards you and place a gentle kiss on your forehead before reluctantly giving you the baby back, knowing he has to get back to work.

You don’t mind that Lucifer is busy because, in the moments that you do get with him, he always makes sure to show both of you how much he loves and cares about you.

Though, he tries to hide it in front of his brothers, not wanting them to see how vulnerable he was around the two of you. 

He knew they were just waiting for the chance to use it against him, especially Satan and Belphie.

Mammon is totally clueless when you have a child.

On the inside, he is ecstatic, and no matter what he claims to others, he’s always wanted a child of his own.

But, on the outside, he’s a mess. He doesn’t know the first place to start.

Mammon ended up buying every baby item on Akuzon thinking that the only way to ensure a baby would survive is if they had everything they could ever possibly need.

You had to bite back a laugh when the two of you came home to the House of Lamentation and saw Lucifer standing in the middle of the living room, baby items covering every inch of the room while he was fuming, holding the bill from Akuzon.

After promising Lucifer you would handle it, you had to sit Mammon down and have a very long talk with him where you answered every question he had about parenthood.

After that day, Mammon ended up stepping up to the plate.

He was a great father and always found a way to make both you and your child laugh.

However, you did have to stop him several times from using your baby as a pawn in a get-rich-quick scheme.

He thought they were adorable enough to fool anyone and that they would be able to make anyone bend to their will. 

And if you thought he was overprotective of you, think again. Because he will be ten times worse with your child.

He’ll refuse to let it out of his sight for even a second unless you’re there and he’ll even be wary of his brothers holding your baby.

It’s definitely over the top, but you know that it’s coming from a place of love.

Levi is in a full-blown panic mode when he finds out that you’re pregnant.

Then, after talking to him about it, he calms down and is excited to have a baby with you.

But when you actually give birth and he realizes the baby is here, he goes into full-blown panic mode again.

It’s not that Levi is clueless, he’s just unsure of himself and ends up being awkward around the baby.

He’s scared to do anything with the baby without you, afraid he’ll mess it up.

But after you help him get more comfortable around the baby, he’ll relax into the job.

Levi will have so much fun showing your child all of his favorite animes and teaching them how to play games.

You’ve never seen Levi more proud than the day that your baby pushed a button on his control and ended up killing the boss that Levi was fighting.

Levi paraded them around the House of Lamentation and told every single person he saw about how your child was going to be a gaming prodigy.

You would have thought that Lucifer and Levi switched sins.

Satan was as studious as ever when it came to yours and his child.

He wanted to know absolutely everything he could.

He would know every possible illness the baby could get and every remedy for it.

He would study the best kind of diapers, the most comfortable cribs, the most appealing and educational toys.

Basically, if it is related to your baby, Satan would be an expert on the topic.

But despite doing all the research to make sure your baby was at one hundred percent satisfaction, you had a hard time getting Satan to hold your baby.

Every time you asked him to, he brushed it off or passed the duty along to one of his brothers.

You were starting to feel afraid that Satan didn’t want to hold your baby so you brought it up to him and that’s when he explained his fears of hurting your child.

He was the Avatar of Wrath and he was afraid that if something set him off while he was holding your baby, he would end up injuring them.

You managed to finally convince Satan to hold the baby and you sat with him the whole time.

When you placed the baby in his arms, Satan immediately knew that he would never be able to hurt the little one in his arms.

From that moment on, Satan would refuse to let go ~ even when you need him to.

He ends up being a really amazing father.

There will never be a day that goes by that Asmo doesn’t spoil your child rotten.

Your baby has to have the best of everything and Asmo won’t settle for anything less.

Asmo spent so long perfecting every detail of his bedroom, and he doesn’t spend any less time on the nursery.

He is an absolute perfectionist when it comes to the colors used in the room and what items are placed in it.

Your baby will also be the best-dressed baby in all three worlds. And if Asmo can’t find a suitable outfit for a particular night, he will make it himself.

It wouldn’t be the first time Asmo has made clothing, but you notice that he is much more satisfied with making clothes for your child than for himself or Majolish.

Your child will also be posted all over Asmo’s social media pages and they’ll have fans before they even know what that means.

But, you knew that everything Asmo did was because he was so proud of yours and his child. He just wanted to show the world how your love for each created something so perfect.

When Asmo puts the baby to sleep, he’ll sing it a lullaby, his idol voice ringing out through the House of Lamentation and you’ll notice the look of adoration in Asmo’s eyes as he holds the baby, rocking it gently.

There isn’t anything Asmo wouldn’t give to make sure both you and your baby are always happy.

Beel is the closest to what a normal human father would be like.

The only thing that Beel wants is for his family to be happy and healthy.

And he’ll do everything in his power to ensure both of you are happy.

Beel will shamelessly play with your child in front of everyone.

He doesn’t care in the slightest if he looks vulnerable or silly because it’s totally worth it to him to hear your baby laugh ~ or you for that matter.

Beel has so much fun feeding your child too. Food is one of Beel’s favorite things and he’s so happy when he can share it with his child.

You have to watch him carefully though to make sure he doesn’t try and sneak the baby food that it can’t eat yet.

Beel always looks like a guilty puppy when you have to stop him from sneaking the child a large piece of his meal. 

At the end of the night, Beel will hold the baby close to him in one arm and hold you close to him in his other arm.

Luckily, he’s big enough that you can both easily fit.

This is Beel’s happy place ~ the two of you cuddled into him as he held onto you tightly.

As the child grows, Beel would definitely encourage them to play a sport and then would coach their team.

Belphie will try to act normal around your baby, but he’s actually very overprotective of it.

He refused to let anyone besides you and Beel hold them even though you promised him it was fine.

Belphie will be reluctant to let the baby do anything, not wanting it to get hurt. 

You could see how much love Belphie had for them because whenever Belphie was napping, he would have your baby tucked into his arms, the two sleeping peacefully.

Belphie would always make sure your child had pleasant dreams and if they were in pain from teething he would gently put them to sleep to try and help relieve the pain.

Eventually, you explain to Belphie that the baby can’t just sleep all of the time and that they need mental stimulation so that they can actually grow intellectually.

Belphie doesn’t like the idea of losing his cuddle buddy, but he would never do anything to harm your child so he agrees.

The baby ends up changing Belphie’s life for the better in the sense that Belphie doesn’t want to part from them so he ends up spending more time going out and about instead of sleeping as well.

Of course, Belphie always includes you. Just because he was obsessed with yours and his child, it didn’t mean he was any less obsessed with you.

He couldn’t imagine his life without either one of you. 

[seullovesme]

cockwarming w/ kim minjeong

pairing ⥬ stuco pres!minjeong x reader

genre ⥬ smut

summary ⥬ you'd do anything to get the student council's president to help your club out.

warnings ⥬ g!p idol, virgin idol, winter is a loser, penetration, cockwarming, mdni

WC ⥬ 1.1k

“so what do you say, pres? you think you could do that for me?” minjeong’s heart wavered at the way you were talking to her, like she was your obedient little girl. you placed your hands on her desk and her eyes darted to then before returning to your eyes, a little intimidated by the aura you gave off.

you leaned in closer, inching towards the girl’s face. minjeong’s eyes widened and she leaned away, supporting herself by putting them behind her on the edge of her seat. once you were centimeters away from the girl, you stopped and stood up straight again.

it was like minjeong’s heart was racing at a mile a minute and was about to pop out of her chest as you turned away. she finally let the breath out that she was holding in, her face of disbelief showing now that you weren’t looking. fuck her soft spots for girls like you… “uh, i—”

“this is a great offer! my club’s performance will be absolutely life changing for the school with the help the council gives us.” you bite your lip and cross your arms, trying to come up with something to convince the student council president to just give in.

“that’s–that’s not even an offer…” minjeong whispers, but you hear her words anyway.

you spin around and minjeong locks eyes with you, startled by your sudden movements. you look the president up and down. you can’t lie, kim minjeong was a piece of work. her slim figure and defined features made her stick out like a sore thumb whenever she was with her friends, so you’d be a liar if you said she never piqued your interest.

“ah. so, you want me to offer something in return…” you walk up to her and begin playing with the tie of her school uniform. “how about in return for helping my club, you can have me?”

you reach for the buttons to your white uniform shirt and begin undoing them one by one, watching as minjeong stared intensely at your fingers as they moved.

like she was snapped out of a spell, the girl shook her head as if to warn off the thoughts that were starting to pop up in her mind. she turned away and covered her view of you with her hand. “nononono, no, don’t say that! you don’t have to do that, you don’t have to offer yourself! or… whatever.. i was only stating you weren't making an offer, so you can stop.” she spoke the words at the speed of life as she felt her heart begin to jump up and down in her chest again.

you chuckled at how innocent the girl was and put down her hand, grabbing her jaw gently and turning her to face your way. “don’t be scared, jeongie. i won’t bite… unless that’s what a good girls like you are into.” you continued undressing in the empty classroom in front of the council president.

minjeong was frozen once again. jeongie? that nickname alone could’ve killed her, but the way you said it in such a seductive tone short circuited her brain. and her being into biting? how would she know what she was into? she’s barely gotten close enough to kiss someone with all her responsibilities being her number one priority.

by the time her brain was done going into panic mode and jumping to thoughts about random things, your whole shirt was already gone, leaving you with only a pink lacey bra and your uniform skirt. minjeong’s mouth just opened and closed repeatedly like a fish out of water. she also felt like she was suffocating like a fish out of water the way the heat of the room intensified by 100. seriously, what was happening? and what was her luck?

“take your pants off, jeongie.” you instructed. the girl immediately responded by getting up and undoing her pants, strongly compelled to follow your order for some odd reason. she shimmied her slacks off and sat back down. you peered down and admired her package, a tent forming in her cute spongebob boxers. minjeong heard you snicker and saw you staring, so she put her hands over her boner, feeling shy.

it was cute how she was trying to hide out of embarrassment, but the last thing she should be embarrassed. “you’re still a virgin, right?” you asked to which she hesitantly nodded. “you’re okay with me taking your virginity?”

her face flushed at your straightforwardness before nodding again. you hummed, “can you say it out loud?” she looked up at you and tilted her head like a puppy.

“i want you to use your words and verbally tell me that you’re okay with this.” mustering up the courage to, she affirmed that she in fact did want this.

“i’m very okay with this, so please… please take care of me.” without taking one second, you lunged toward her and pulled her boxers down to her knees. her dick sprung up and hit her lower abdomen, her tip a pretty shade of pink.

as much as you wanted to take things slow for the girl’s first time, you had to finish this meeting to tell your club you got permission, that way you could help with preparing for the stage.

on that note, without engaging in any foreplay, you straddled minjeong in the chair, sliding your panties to the side with one hand as the other tightly held on her shoulder.

“just trust me okay? tell me if it’s too much.” minjeong grabbed your hips and nodded eagerly, her eyes fixated on what was underneath your skirt. it was adorable to see the girl so innocently let you do whatever you wanted to her.

you lined up her tip to your entrance and lowered yourself at a slow pace, pressing your lips together as she filled you up so nicely. “shit…” minjeong whispered under her breath as she threw her head back.

“i didn’t know you knew how to curse, ms. president.” you tease as your hips met her’s.

the girl grit her teeth, desperate to feel more pleasure like an addict. “how about you shut up and ride?” you were shocked by how aggressive her words were, but for some reason you just followed her orders obediently. but not without asking a question first.

“so you’ll help my club now, right?” you say, trying your best to not whimper as you fight the urge to begin moving. minjeong loved how warm it felt to be inside of you, the feeling being something she had never felt before. she could hold you here forever, even if it meant having you warm her cock as she did her homework and went over papers.

minjeong was getting distracted and she hummed, recalling your question. “oh, you already had the green light from the beginning. i was supposed to tell you that your other club leader let me know in advance, and i had sent some members of the committee to go help out earlier today.” she finished, and your eyes grew twice in size, your face flushed.

“WHAT?!”

[vaadazen-codes]

How To Get Started Making Visual Novels

Wanna make a visual novel? Or maybe you've seen games like Our Life, Blooming Panic, Doki Doki Literature Club, etc. and wanna make something like that? Good news, here's a very basic beginners guide on how to get started in renpy and what you need to know going in! Before you start, I highly recommend looking at my last post about writing a script for renpy just to make it easier on you!

LONG POST AHEAD

Obviously, our first step is downloading it from their website

thankfully, its right on the home page of their site. Follow basica program installation steps and run the program. I highly recommend pinning it to your task bar to make it easier to access.

From there, you're met with the renpy app, it's a little daunting at first but let's talk about what all these buttons are for.

Projects

This part is simple, it just lists the current projects in the chosen directory. You probably won't have any in there of your own. You should still see Tutorial and The Question!

Both of those default projects are super helpful in their own ways, i highly recommend testing out the tutorial and playing around with it just to get comfortable with some of the basics.

Create New Project

The first step to actually making your game into a game!

You'll be met with a prompt letting you know that the project is being made in English and that you can change it. You can click Continue.

From here, you'll be asked to input a project name! Put in your games title, or even a placeholder title since this Information can be changed later! (this is also the title the folder will be in your file browser, be sure to name it something you won't overlook)

Now we get to choose our resolution!

If you have no idea what to choose, go for 1920x1080! This is the standard size for most computer monitors and laptops, but it will still display with moderately decent quality on 4k monitors too!

You can choose 3840x2160 as well. This is 2x the measurements of the default, with the same ration. These dimensions are considered 4k. Keep in mind, your image files will be bigger and can cause the game to have a larger size to download.

Now we get to choose our color scheme!

Renpy has some simple default options with the 'light mode' colors being the bottom two rows, and the 'dark mode' colors being the toop two rows.

You can pick anything here, but I like to choose something that matches my projects vibes/colors better. Mostly because depending on how in depth you go with the ui, it minimizes the amount of changes I need to make later.

Click continue and give it a minute. Note: If it says "not responding" wait a moment without clicking anything. It can sometimes freeze briefly during the process.

Now we should be back at our home screen, with our new project showing. Let's talk about allll that stuff on the right now.

Open Directory

This just opens that particular folder in your local file explorer!

game - is all the game files, so your folders for images, audio, saves, and your game files like your script, screens, and more.

base - this is the folder that the game folder is inside of. You can also find the errors and log txt files in here.

images - takes you to your main images folder. This is where you wanna put all of your NON gui images, like your sprites, backgrounds, and CGs. You can create folders inside of this and still call them in the script later. EX: a folder for backgrounds , a folder for sprites for character a, a seperate folder for spirtes for character b, etc.

audio - Takes you to the default audio folder. This is empty, but you can put all your music and sound effects here!

gui - brings up the folder containing all of the default renpy gui. It's a good place to start/ reference for sizes if you want to hand draw your UI pieces like your text box!

Edit File

Simple enough, this is just where you can open your code files in whatever text/code editor you have installed.

Script.rpy - where all of your story and characters live. This is the file you'll spend most of your time in at first

Options.rpy - Contains mostly simple information, like project name and version. There aren't a ton of things in here you need to look at. There is also some lines of code that help 'archive' certain files by file type so that they can't be seen by players digging in code however. Fun if you want to hide some images in there for later or if you just dont want someone seeing how messy your files are. We've all been there

Gui.rpy - where all of the easy customization happens. Here you can change font colors, hover colors, fonts, font sizes, and then the alignment and placement of all of your text! Like your dialogue and names, the height of text buttons, etc. It more or less sets the defaults for a lot of these unless you choose to change them later.

Screens.rpy - undeniably my favorite, this is where all of the UI is laid out for the different screens in your game, like the main menu, game menu, quick menu, choice menu, etc. You can add custom screens too if you want, but I always make my own seperate file for these.

Open Project - this just opens all of those files at once in the code editor. Super handy if you make extra files like I do for certain things.

Actions

last but not least, our actions.

Navigate Script - This feature is underrated in my honest opinion, it's super handy for help debugging! In renpy you can comment with # before a line. However, if you do #TODO and type something after it, it saves it as a note! You can view these TODO's here as well as easily navigate to when certain screens are called, where different labels are (super great if your game is long, and more. It saves some scrolling.

Check Script (Lint) - also super duper handy for debugging some basic things. It also tells you your word count! But its handy for letting you know about some errors that might throw up. I like using it to look for sprites I may or may not have mispelled, because they show up in there too.

Change/Update GUI - Nifty, though once you start customizing GUI on your own, it isn't as useful. You can reset the project at any point and regenerate the image files here. This updates all those defaults we talked about earlier.

Delete Persistent - this just helps you delete any persistent data between play throughs on your end. I like to use it when making a lot of changes while testing the game, so that I can reboot the game fresh.

Force Recompile - Full disclosure, as many games as I've made and as long as I've been using Renpy, i have never used this feature. I searched to see what it does and this is the general consesus: Normally renpy tries to be smart about compiling code (creating .rpyc files) and only compiles .rpy files with changes. This is to speed up the process since compiling takes time. Sometimes you can make changes that renpy don't pick up on and therefore won't recompile. In these cases you can run force recompile to force it. Another solution (if you know what file is affected) is to delete that specific. rpyc file.

The rest of your options on this right hand side are how you make executable builds for your game that people can download to extract and play later!

Sorry gang! that was a whole lot of text obviously the last button "Launch Project" launches an uncompiled version of the project for you to play and test as you go! Hang in tight because my next post is about how to utilize github for renpy, so you can collaborate easier!

[demonsslayersstuff]

Seeing You (AOT Men x Fem Reader)

Description: Here are some head canons and drabbles about how some of the Attack on Titan men react to seeing you naked for the first time.

Warnings: Nudity, suggestive content, smut for some characters (warnings will be placed individually), fluff.

A/N: Slowly working through my end of year list. I wanted to post twice this week, but honestly November is such a busy month for me. Stayed tuned for the Giyuu fic, that's next on my list. Enjoy!

Erwin Smith:

Erwin would 100% be a respectful partner, but for some reason I feel like the first time he see's you naked would be purely accidental

Being a captain or squad leader, I could see you being in your office and you accidently spill your tea or something and you need to change your clothes. Thinking no one would enter without knocking, you strip to change

Only for Erwin to come barging into your room wanting to discuss an urgent matter with you and the one time he doesn't knock is in this moment

Erwin would be sooo embarrassed, like face shocked and then turning red before he immediately whips around and apologizes before leaving you to finish changing. Feels horrid and never enters your office without knocking ever again

"Fuck", you hiss as the hot liquid hits your uniform, not only staining your shirt, but your pants as well. You thank your foresight, knowing you always kept a few extra uniforms and clothes in your office for this very situation. After removing your ODM gear, you being to strip off your clothes. That's when you realize the tea you had spilled managed to soak your bra as well. Without a second thought, you remove it as well, wanting to have a full set of fresh clothes. The moment your bra hits the floor is the moment you office door flings open. You immediately lock eyes with Erwin Smith; Commander of the Scouts Regiment, your partner, and soon to be dead man. "Captain there's something I want-", he begins, but the words die in his throat as his baby blue eyes take in your nearly nude body. Panic sets in about three seconds later and he turns around, quickly slamming the door shut, keeping his back turned to give you some privacy. "I'm so, so sorry", he says, stuttering. You put your clean clothes on as fast as you can. "I'm good sir", you tell him as you begin to put the ODM gear back on. "Listen-" Erwin starts, but you cut him off. "It's ok darling. No one else saw and we are in a relationship, at some point you are going to see me naked", you say, giving him a soft smile. However you next words turn darker, "Next time knock, the last thing I need is to flash the entire Regiment", your smile fading. "It won't happen again", Erwin says, clearing his throat uncomfortably, before moving to lay the papers he'd brought with him on your desk. The two of you fall back into work mode quickly, though Erwin wants nothing more than to you see you naked again, under very different circumstances.

Levi Ackerman: Slight Smut

The first time Levi sees you naked, is probably the first time y'all are having sex or at least during a heavy make out session. With Levi its more of a planned thing

When your relationship gets to the that step, Levi is excited and terrified at the same time. He's not scared at seeing you naked, he is scared of fucking up a big moment

Levi would savor this moment with you. He is in no rush and wants to map out and explore every inch and curvature of your body

Once he finally sees you fully exposed, he's is going to make sure you feel beautiful and wanted. This will be something that Levi keeps ingrained in the back of his mind for the rest of his life.

"It's ok Levi, you can take it off", you murmur, looking down at your partner, his fingers fumbling with the buttons of your shirt. Levi takes a steadying breath. "Are absolutely sure you want this?", he questions again. You move your hands on top of his, helping to ease his tremble. "I'm ready, I want this, I want you", you tell him, voice sincere. Without another word, Levi is quick to take off your shirt, followed to by unclasping of your bra and soon, other than your panties, Levi is looking at your nude body. His eyes rake over you, catching your plump breasts, noting the various scars that you'd gotten from years with the Scouts. He feels his dick harden, you were beautiful. "Gorgeous", he lets out, as his body over lay yours, his own clothes joining yours on the floor. His lips attach to your neck, before he gingerly cups your left boob in his hand, testing the waters. You sigh with pleasure, "I'm not made of glass love, touch me", you moan out. His hands become bolder, feeling every inch of your skin and when he finally gets the courage to slip off your panties, his breath catches in his throat. His steely blue eyes capture yours, "I'm gonna take care of you, don't worry", he tells you, voice gruff from the desire that is pulsating through to his body. And as his fingers slip into your slick inner walls, you knew this was going to be long night.

Jean Kristien:

I see this happening two ways. The first is during a heated make out session and yall throw caution to the wind. The second is accidentally, like if you got injured or he walked into the wrong room

If it’s purely accidental, Jean would be an embarrassed hot mess. His face would as red as a tomato, mumbling an apology before walking into the wall (lol)

If it’s during a more intimate situation, he’d get your permission first, but once it’s given you’re in for it. There’s no stopping him, especially now that the two of you are taking that step

Jean would definitely make sure that you felt comfortable and ready. Even if it was an accident, he’d go out of the way to apologize nicely for his mistake. He doesn’t want to do anything to hurt you

You hiss in pain as you slip your shirt and bra off your upper body. Your injury was in an odd place on your back, making treating it alone difficult. Thus, you sneaked off to an old storage closet, getting some privacy. You groan as you peeled the bandage off, getting ready to put a fresh dressing and ointment on the wound. Just as you were getting ready to apply the paste, the door swung open and in came Jean. You both freeze, staring at each other, you did not expect to get disrupted here. As Jean’s eyes move down, he comes to the realization that you had no clothes on your upper body. His cheeks flushed a brilliant red and he immediately turned around, quickly moving to leave with a quick apology. “Wait”, you shout. Jean pauses for a second. “I’m sorry to ask, but could you please help me with this?”, you ask meekly. You hear an intake of breath, “Are you sure?”, he asks cautiously. “Yes, I know we just started dating, but I’d rather you do it”, you tell him. The door clicks shut softly. “Turn around, I’ll do my best too ah, to uh, not make you..uhm uncomfortable”, Jean stutters out. Once your back is to him, he turns around. Taking the bandage and ointment he works quickly, wrapping you up. “You can get dressed now”, he mumbles, voice barely visible. “Thanks”, you say but groan when you move to put your clothes back on. “Let me help”, Jean states, moving to help. You feel the softness of his finger tips as the brush against your back and shoulders. The feeling making your body warm. “Jean”, you say softly and turn around to look at him. He raises his eyebrows at your face. “Kiss me”, you murmur. He doesn’t hesitate, lips finding yours with ease. Maybe you wouldn’t be leaving the storage closet for some time.

Eren Jaeger: (Reader is bit dominant here) Suggestive Content

With Eren this I feel like is going to be “accidental”, or basically he’s going to claim it was an accident, but he actual does it on purpose (only if yall are in a relationship, he is not gonna do it in a creepy manner)

For some reason I see him as someone who’d steal your towel or purposely spill something on you, forcing you to change or what not. Again he’s only going to this for his partner.

However you catch onto his plan pretty quickly and two can play at this game. You’ll get back at him by teasing him or withholding things like kisses until he relents and apologizes

Eventually this becomes a little tradition for the two of you. Whether it’s him stealing your towel or you accidentally splashing water on him. The two of you enjoy goofing off this way as it leads to some other fun activities

You gasp as the cool liquid comes into contact with your shirt. “I’m so sorry”, you hear Eren exclaim as you take stock of what had happened. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going and tripped and now you’re all wet”, he continues, voice innocent enough, but something tells you there’s more to this story. Your eyes narrow as you catch his cheeks flushing red. “Come with me so we can get you a spare shirt”, Eren says, grabbing your arm and pulling you along the hall. Once the two of you are safely in his room do you speak. “You know if you wanted to see me naked, you could have just asked”, you tell him with a slight glare already knowing what that whole situation was about. You had caught Jean and Connie’s snickering on your way out as well as Connie’s not so subtle thumbs up. You see the guilty expression on his face before he has time to make up a story. You sigh, grabbing the spare shirt from his hands before pushing him to the door. “Wait, wait”, he says, tone rushed. “What?”, you ask briskly, wanting nothing more than to get out of this wet shirt. “I’m sorry ok, that wasn’t fair to you”, Eren says, apologizing, regretting his immature actions. “I accept your apology. But next time just ask, don’t act like a two year old”, you tell him. Knowing his apology was sincere, you decided to just take your shirt and bra off for him. You hear his intake of breath as his eyes scan your chest, lingering on your breasts. You step closer, hand reaching down to grasp his pants. “Your turn”, you say with a smirk. Eren complies rather quickly, and before you know it heated desires take over, leaving the two of you completely bare for the other. “Touch me”, you whimper and soon his hands are all your body, lips finding yours. Needless to say the two of you did not make it back to finish lunch.

Armin Artlet: (Slight Smut)

Similar to Levi, he’s not going to see you naked until the two of you are good and ready to make your relationship more physical

He’s a quite nervous the first time, fingers trembling, panicking on the inside. However Armin is still going to treat you well; he’s going to make you feel beautiful and loved

Once the nerves pass, Armin is on cloud nine. He’d never thought someone could feel/ taste this heavenly. He doesn’t want you to put your clothes back on, preferring to keep you naked beside him

Going forward, Armin is going to find any opportunity to have your clothes off your body. Whether it’s bathing together, cuddling, or having sex. The poor boy can get enough of you.

Armin takes a steadying breath as his fingers play with the hem of your shirt; his nerves getting the best of him. “It’s ok love, I want this”, you remind him softly. “Ok”, he huffs out before slowly pulling your shirt off your body. You hear him gasp as shirt falls to the floor, nearly forgotten as Armin’s eyes rake over your nearly nude body. “Breathtaking”, he murmurs, before tentatively moving his hands to cup your breast gently. You sigh with pleasure at the contact. “Can I..erm..may I kiss it?”, Armin questions with a stutter. “Please”, you whine out, wanting noting more than his lips wrapped around your sensitive nipple. A few seconds later your desires are met, and you moan as he sucks your boob into his mouth, his hand fondling the other. His tongue swirls your nipple and you clench your thighs together, trying to create a bit of resistance where you ached so desperately for him. He lifts his head up a moment, catching your movements. “Let me touch you baby”, he says, voice gruff, a new found courage growing within him. “Ok”, you say, nearly inaudible. Armin’s fingers part your underwear, before they find your nearly soaked entrance. His lips connect with your nipple as his digit slips inside you with ease, the pleasure sending shock waves through your body. Tonight was going to be a special night for the both of you.

[nataliasquote]

Midnight | n romanoff

Summary: Natasha has never learned how to rest, and at midnight is where she is most vulnerable

Warnings: throwing up, insomnia, ptsd

wc: 1.1k

note: this is so short but it’s also angsty with some fluff dw

-⧗-

Natasha wasn't very good at sleeping. None of the avengers were, really, but her mind was constantly plagued with the past and the future, which made it almost impossible for her to relax.

It was 1am. The compound was finally quiet as everyone had gone to sleep. Well, almost everyone. Y/n and Natasha were curled up in bed together and Y/n's soft snores were all that could be heard in their shared room. She were fast asleep, but Natasha just lay there. Her mind was racing, memories of the Red Room spinning in circles and driving her crazy. She had tried desperately to sleep, but no luck. Her heart was racing and her body ached to move, so she knew she needed to go.

She carefully removed herself from Y/n's side and stumbled out of bed, dragging herself over to the closet to grab the first set of work out clothes she could find. She threw them on blindly and went down to the training room.

The hallways were eerily quiet but Natasha didn't notice. She was too preoccupied with her thoughts to care. She barely even noticed when she pushed open the door to the gym and she suddenly found herself by the punching bag.

Her warm up routine normally was very strict. She would do fifteen minutes of stretching to make sure her body was warm so she wouldn't get injured. But this Natasha didn't care about that anymore. She put on boxing gloves and started a rhythm on the bag. She was punching away her nightmares, fighting the demons in her head.

She didn't know how long she was doing that for, but once her arms started to go numb she stopped. Her head was pounding from lack of sleep but she pushed on. Her thoughts hadn't subsided and she felt as tense as ever.

After taking the gloves off, she went over to the treadmill and started at a light pace. But very quickly she turned it up so she was almost sprinting. Every time her foot struck the machine she felt her mind spin.

After running for forty five minutes, her stomach started to churn. Her lungs were burning and her heart felt like it was on fire. But she kept going. After all, she was made of marble. No weaknesses.

Natasha felt the bile rise up in her throat but she pushed it down. Her stomach was uncomfortable but she still ignored it, and kept running. But then a strong wave hit and her mind went into panic mode.

She slammed her hand on the emergency stop button and jumped off, heaving into the bucket on the floor. Natasha collapsed to her knees as she threw up the remnants of her dinner, her hands desperately gripping the edges of the bucket. Her whole body was shaking, partly due to exhaustion and also the strain she'd just gone through in her workout. She continued to dry heave even after everything was gone. This was one of the only times Nat felt truly vulnerable.

She didn't hear Y/n burst through the door until she felt her hand on her back. Y/n had woken to discover an empty bed and panicked, immediately going on a search for Nat. Her heart broke when she found her girlfriend crouching on the floor of the gym in such a state. But what hurt even more was that this wasn't the first time.

"Nat, baby, you've got to stop doing this." Y/n whispered as Natasha dry heaved again. Nat was crying as her hands shook against the bucket. "Hey, hey, it's ok. It's ok." She unscrewed the lid of a water bottle she had grabbed. "Here, drink some of this."

Natasha finally lifted her head and turned away from the bucket to sit properly on the floor. Her weak hands tried to grip the bottle and with Y/n's help she slowly drank. Some ran down her chin so Y/n quickly wiped it up.

Only then did Y/n get a proper look at Nat. The bags under her eyes were dark and her usual bright green eyes had been replaced with dull grey ones, which were red from exhaustion. She was still sweating and some of her hair was stuck to her face.

"Oh baby. What have you done to yourself?" Y/n asked rhetorically and Natasha just sobbed. Pulling her into her shoulder, Y/n stroked Natasha's head and whispered comforting words to try and calm her down. "Shh shh it's ok. you're ok. Let's get you cleaned up." she suggested and Natasha gave the smallest nod. "Ok baby. Stand up on three."

Y/n counted to three and the couple slowly stood up from the floor, with Y/n taking most of Nat's weight. She debated going back to their room, but in the end decided to let Nat shower in the changing rooms as they were closer. She gave her the privacy she needed, and proceeded to sort out the bucket in the gym whilst Natasha was cleaning up.

Once Y/n had cleaned that up, she went back to check on Natasha and found her shaking in the shower, letting out small sobs as she held her shampoo bottle.

"Do you want some help, honey?" Y/n asked and Natasha nodded.

She helped her wash her hair and body very gently. Once they were done Y/n grabbed a towel and wrapped it around Natasha's shaking body to dry her off. She got her changed into the spare clothes that were in Nat's locker and they carefully made their way back to the bedroom.

Y/n sprayed lavender on Natasha's pillow and helped her into bed, holding her body close to her own. She knew the redhead wouldn't want to talk, so she just sang a quiet lullaby to try and lull her to sleep, hoping it would work.

Natasha buried her face in Y/n's neck and quickly fell asleep to the sound of her girlfriends voice and the feeling of her hand gently rubbing her back.

Y/n watched as Nat slept, not wanting to sleep and miss something important. She didn't mind staying awake if it meant that Natasha was safe. Even the strongest people need someone to help fight their demons.

[hyewka]

i seriously need some sub soob🫢

like imagine him squirming and whining because you ONLY kissed his red tip thats leaking precum ehishsisidjdd im going insaneeee

warnings; sub!soobin obvi, sort of pervy, best friends who fuck each other (fwb), puppy pet name, big dick soob, slapping ?? balls??, gets a boner from cleavage, soobin is extra sensitive down there and cums a lot

When Soobin invited you over to his dorm, you don’t exactly expect to have nothing but your phone to turn to as he simultaneously gets worked up over some video game he’s playing and ignores you all around. You should’ve guessed this was going to happen, but you’re bitter about it anyway.

Is it a crime to have thought that he was implying something else by inviting you over?

“I’m bored.” you whine for the umpteenth time, your thumb with no thought scrolling through your feed of posts you’ve already liked and reposted.

When he doesn’t even spare a glance, you scoff and resort to a kick at his back—which to your credit, gets him to adjust his headset and look back to you.

“Yeah?” he mouths, not having heard you before.

You can’t help but think he looked cute today, his pinkish lips and the hair over his eyes making him look even more of a puppy, but before you could even get a word out, his eyes suddenly widen at the faint yell you could hear from his headset, immedietley turning around has he aggresively spams buttons on his controller in panic.

“Holy shit dude, get off my ass I looked away for one—”

You groan into his pillow, making sure to make it as dramatic as possible, proceeding to sulk right after. This was not a productive use of your time. Fifty entire minutes of laying on his bed as he plays a video game. The switch out of your sport bra for a push up right before you came over really is doing nothing for you right now.

When you hear a string of curses spilling out of his mouth, you look over your shoulder curiously and see that his screen was in spectator mode. “You lost?”

He groans, taking off his headset completely, his mic muted. “Mhm, got killed. What’s up though?”

You take note of the screaming now louder from his headphones. Probably at him for getting eliminated. You don’t let him be though, exhaling dramatically looking back to your phone, “What’s up is your bestest, number one, most treasured, hottest friend is horny, sexually frustrated, and bored out of their mind.”

Soobin chokes on practically nothing at the casual mention of you being horny. It’s dumb, like he’s a middle school boy with no experience.

He really was not used to the ‘thing’ between you guys, like, at all. The stolen kisses (which is to be noted very quickly turn into full blown makeout sessions) when no one’s looking, the occasional need to send pics of his hard on to you, slight panic and regret settling in when he sees the ‘read’ receipt with no sign of a response for an entire five minutes (are you not in the mood? did you hate it? will you stop what you guys have going on?), or even the late night calls when you decide to facetime him instead of responding to his blurry nudes through text, and then…well, phone sex seemed to be a normal standard of your friendship. Weirdly enough.

Even if by now you’ve fucked him well over a few times that a mere mention of feeling horny shouldn’t have gotten him as flustered as it just did. But it’s so sudden, the shift from being friends who strongly, and vehemently denied of the secretly dating rumors to…secretly fucking.

“Oh yeah?” comes out a lot more in a loser way than he intended because he basically chokes it out. He’s never been nervous around you, save for the beginning of your friendship.

You’re very much aware of how unjusted Soobin is to the sudden change in your dynamic. Even you think it’s odd that the person you end up texting when you get…needy is Soobin.

Soobin was never the guy you’d think of starting anything even remotely sexual with.

You’ve known him since the years of being taller than him, and you’ve come to learn about his many deep faults along with gross habits you would never let fly under the radar if from someone else, so for him to be the exact type of man you’ve been seeking lately in bed is, well, surprising.

He seems to be the only person who can satisfy you nowadays. But you try not to show it too much, basking much more in how easily he gets flustered. It’s adorable.

“Yeah,” you sigh, shifting position from your stomach to your back and after much contemplation, deciding to take the chance of sitting up straight, “Did you really invite me over to watch you game? You know I don’t play video games.”

You don’t miss the way his eyes trail down, for sure because your chest was in full view now, his tongue prodding out just a tiny bit to wet his lips, almost like out of instinct. That dog. You show a bit of cleavage and he’s already drooling.

To be fair, it is the exact reaction you were fishing out of him. So you’re definitely not complaining.

You end up stifling a laugh, to which he immediately catches like he’s been trained to know your laughs on cue, breaking him out of his daze—an awkward coughing fit delayed a few seconds after to distract from the fact that he thinks he might’ve been caught, blush quickly warming his cheeks. “You think they’re silly, yeah, I know.

“But they’re—they’re not!” he splutters out, “I thought if you watched me play with Beo—”

“Were you just staring at my tits?” you cut him off with half the ability to not just start laughing. It’s worth seeing Soobin’s eyes widen like a cartoon character.

“No!” he says immediately— the crack of his voice doing nothing to help you keep a straight face. See? Adorable.

Then he huffs out a scoff like he’s surprised you’d ever accuse of him of such scandalous behavior. “Just because we fuck doesn’t mean I want to do you every second of the day. I respect you.”

It’s like a game of your cocked brow calling bullshit (more on the fucking thing than respecting you) and him staring back just as intensely as if he truly was not just ogling at your chest. Okay then, fair enough. You’ll get him to break. And admit to it.

“So if I did this…” you unbutton one of the two buttons of your crop top, and your eyes intently watch the way he struggles to not watch your every movement, still keeping his eyes on your face.

Stubborn. You can work with that. He won’t last long.

You drag the unbuttoning of the second one, and when it finally pops out, it’s a full view of your cleavage, cool air of the A.C being the cause of the goosebumps appearing.

And you’re right. He doesn’t last long. Barely even five seconds.

“My eyes are up here idiot.”

He doesn’t even try to hide the blushing anymore, once again licking his lips. You can see the bob of his adam apple when he finally meets your eyes. “Can I see your tits?” he says—the shame of asking is something that overtime became a numbing feeling, because with each time you casually lift your shirt at his request, the easier it gets to push down the feeling of being a pervert.

You break into a wide grin at how easy and straightforward he was—a passing thought of hoping he’s not like, like this for every living thing with fatty tissue on their chest. It’s not jealousy, god no, but it’s better if this was only between you two… for safety reasons?

You pretend to ponder on it but he should know by now that the enjoyment you get out of teasing him is way greater than any feeling.

You decide on what you’ll say, an evil smirk making way. “Am I just a pair of breasts Soobin? Just for you to ogle at? I thought you respected me.”

He shuts his eyes, whining at seeing that his words were very quick to bite him in the ass. “Please. You know I’ll be good.” he whispers the last few words and that has an affect on you. Big one.

Because he isn’t lying. Soobin’s very obedient. And god, you love it. So much.

But you don’t show that, you never do—letting him chase after something for once. Maybe if he gets a little more desperate, you’d think about a quick flash. “You have plenty of my nudes saved, can’t you jerk off to those? Y’know, like you usually do.”

Is it fair to make a jab at the occasional, every so often muffled voice messages in response to even just a slightly revealing picture that you’re asking him the opinion of, where you could hear his unstable breathing and the wet sounds of his pre cum covered shaft? Probably not, especially when you also get off of pics he’d unknowingly send to be the most delicious, mouth watering photo you’ve seen yet.

Soobin, on the other hand, is like, sure he’d go insane. Ever since he was allowed to look at you in the not-only-friends way, he took up every chance you dangled in front of him like a dog with a bone. Showing a little bit of your cleavage? His mind’s running to images. Just thinking of kissing and sucking until your tits go sore makes him so shamelessly a pervert. Seeing the head of his cock disappear between your tits when you took it upon yourself that one day of giving him a taste of what a titty fuck was like—god, it’s forever embedded into his memory.

He still sulks over the fact that you didn’t let him take a video.

Suddenly his well fitted sweats have easily become the most suffocating piece of clothing, his bulge shy of peaking through the fabric and making an obvious imprint. He tries to not look like a sore desperate loser, to look just a tiny bit cooler, but you make it so hard that he’s willing to get on his knees. Like seriously.

You’re back on your phone, looking to be disinterested which makes him bite the insides of his cheeks—already overthinking. Were you mad that he asked to see?

He tentatively puts a hand on your ankle, gauging at least some sort of reaction. You give him that—a glance. “Sorry if like, um— I didn’t invite you just for games obviously— well, okay not ‘obviously’ but I, uh, also don’t think you’re like, a floating pair of…breasts or something.” You cock a brow, really curious of where this Soobin ramble of the day would go.

“You’re my bestest friend—is that corny to say? Shit, well, you are and I think you’re smart, and obviously really funny, and bright and so pretty, like, really pretty and I mean—”

“Soobin where the fuck are you?”

You both look at the headset next to him on the bed, the yelling loud enough to transcend the reason the product was made anyway. He looks back to you and you could tell he intends on finishing his monologue. “And I mean—” he starts again before cursing under his breath at the second time he gets cut off.

“Fucking cuck, are you ignoring us?”

He groans at the stupid item, as if it just ruined a critical moment. Then he looks back at you apologetically. God, he hopes you don’t leave. “Um, well I have to keep playing they’d kill me if—” he panics a little trying to explain but you’re on another train of thought entirely, thinking that this was perfect timing.

“It’s okay, keep playing!” You say, practically gleaming.

His facial expression is a mix of skeptical confusion and desperation. But instead of questioning your enthusiasm, he bites down on his lip for a second. “You—you won’t leave, right? Don’t leave. Please.”

You shake your head, mouthing an ‘I won’t’ and finally, he lets out a breath of relief he didn’t know he was holding in.

He doesn’t know why he’s so desperate for you to stay. It’s not like you don’t see each other, like every day of the week or even call each other when you somehow don’t. But regardless he wants you to stay, and he doesn’t mind coming off desperate for once.

The situation at hand is too obviously right in your face.

His ramble that was cut off short by who you made out to be none other than Beomgyu, and then Heeseung was…kind of sweet.

No, it was sweet. He thinks you’re really pretty? Not just pretty but really pretty. And smart? And funny? He’s so cute holy shit you could just reach out to pinch his rosy cheeks. But you didn’t and you probably won’t. Because something else caught your attention.

His bulge.

It was too…out there for you to not subtly look down every few filler word Soobin mumbled. You’re not sure what got him to pop a full blown boner. The teasing? You only said a few sentences and showed modest reveal of your boobs. But nevertheless, you try really hard to bite away a smile because holy shit, he really is easy.

And it fucking turns you on. More than it should. And more than it would if it was any other person.

If you felt horny before, you were basically drenched when getting a glimpse of his wide eyes at seeing you on the carpet, on your knees as you’re face to face with his crotch. He seems to freeze for a second before he quickly works to get his headset off, trying to abandon the game completely.

“No.” you say sternly, grabbing his dick through his sweats, “Keep playing.”

He mouths a big ‘what’, nearly whisper shouting, his eyes bulging out. You simply shrug, feeling all too smug, and start to palm him over the fabric. He lets out a sigh of pleasure, shutting his eyes.

“Dude, why the hell are you not moving? Fuck’s wrong with Soobin today?” You hear someone yell.

“If you stop, I stop.” You mouth slowly, and he seems to catch it, hands shaking as he reluctantly picks his controller up again.

“You’re evil.”

To that, you give him a smile, not really denying it. Because maybe you were, knowing how sensitive he is.

You hope Soobin’s mic is as shitty as you’ve heard Hueningkai complain a multitude of times, because if not, he’ll have a very hard time on call with his friends from now on. Or maybe not. Maybe it’s a bragging point to have a girl suck you off while playing video games.

You imagine it’d still be a bit awkward anyway.

“How come you’re so big?” you whisper, more to yourself than him, but he catches it, and still reacts, bucking his hips to your touch, groaning. You click your tongue, pushing him down with one hand, as a warning.

“Don’t move. Don’t take your hands off the controller. And don’t make a sound.” It doesn’t take him long before he nods, obediently fixating his eyes on the tv screen.

You coo at how hard he narrows his eyes, thumbs working its action—but you want him to break. Maybe you really are evil.

And maybe he already was breaking.

He spreads his legs more and more, before lifting his ass off the mattress, already impatiently needy.

“Touch me.” he whispers, only for you to hear.

You raise a brow, huffing out a laugh as you decide that maybe you should stop playing around and pull his sweats down to his ankles. You don’t waste a second to.

When you take in the state of his cock, your mouth could water just at how pretty it looks. You’ve seen it well over a dozen times—over pics, over facetime, in real life, but you’re never not in awe each time. His slit was already bubbling precum, the thickness of his dick eye widening— It’s not like you have small hands either, and yet you still can’t fully wrap your hand around him. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to his size.

And god his tip was swollen red you’re sure if you just so briefly touched it he’d spasm and jizz all over your face. So you’re gentle. Or at least, you make an attempt.

Promptly grabbing his dick again, you could feel him grow heavier when you let it sit on your hand for a second. Soobin sighs into his mic, no doubt briefly catching the attention of his friends.

“Soobin, you’re dripping.” you comment, eyes following the trail of cum running down his length to your hand. It’s more in amusement, how he’s basically on the verge of an orgasm without much from you.

You could tell he’s using his last bits of patience to not just outright fuck into your fist, and it fascinates you. You start slowly dragging your hand on his shaft, made easier to navigate with his ridiculous amount of pre cum working as lube.

You watch as he adjusts his position subtly a few times, knowing that he’s trying to keep from slipping out any whines, pursing his lips. But his eyes betray him, they looked distant—not focused. “How many kills?” you ask.

“Zero.”

You furrow your brows, pouting as you still your hands. “I’ll speed up with each kill. You have to win for me puppy or I’ll get sad.”

Soobin doesn’t know exactly how he’d aim let alone manage a kill with the way you grip the base of his cock, but he knows that despite the sincerety of your words, he doesn’t like to think that you’d get sad. He so badly wants to make you proud in some way, happy with that glint in your eyes.

So, he gets a kill.

You hear the comments from his friends, passing compliments and you smile, slowly working your hand. “Got a kill.” he says under his breath, trying his hardest to not fall into the urge of shutting his eyes. Because god, you were good.

“Yeah? For me? Get another one puppy.”

A new fire ignites in his chest as he spams buttons, yearning to hear a praise slip from your lips. The way he knits his eyebrows in concentration and had his tongue peeking out was so adorable you almost lose control. Almost.

His breathing picks up as he says, “Another one.”

You get the confirmation he’s saying the truth by his friends again and you start moving your hand unfathomably fast as a reward, your hand getting sticky. “Gooood boy, getting all the kills.”

The sudden speed gets to Soobin, faltering his streak as he holds back choked up groans, head quickly becoming light. “Too much, too much.” he whispers, soft moans slipping through his breathing. You catch the way his hands loosen its grip on the controller and you smirk.

He’s way too easy to break.

“Too much? Should I stop?”

He shakes his head again, this time more frantic. You could make out the sparkly tears threatening to spill—you’re all too familiar with this. “Please don’t.”

“Then what? What do you want me to do?” you ask slowly, wet sounds of your hand working at his dick so dirty.

“Mouth,” he sighs, not controlling the way his hips buck into your hands despite your disapproval. “Want you to put it in your mouth.”

You almost laugh—your mouth? Last time, he barely lasted a second. You’re not doing that. But you’ll tease him about it regardless.

“Put what in my mouth?”

He doesn’t waste a breath. “Cock. My cock.”

You’re not even sure if he muted his mic by now, but the way he says it in that needy, desperate broken voice is so sinful you’re surprised you haven’t jumped his bones. Too bad you won’t give him what he wants—or at least not completely.

You rub your thumb over the head of his dick, dribbles of pre-cum still messily spurting from his slit. He’s not paying attention to the game—no, his eyes were focused entirely on you. You would scold him, but you’re entirely too aroused by the way his mouth basically waters in anticipation.

You maintain eye contact when you dip your head down slowly, an experimental kitten lick on his tip and he immediately thrusts his hip, dick slipping past your lips. You pull back, expecting that exact reaction—and he whimpers. Whimpers.

It’s not hard to pick up on the screaming from his headset, his friends clearly pissed off that hes been in the same spot for well over a minute now, becoming an easy kill to enemies on the other team. “Puppy, how come you’re losing? I thought you were doing well.”

Before he could respond, you tighten your grip on his shaft, and he groans, trying to bite down the noise—maybe he didn’t mute it after all. It’s almost animalistic how he chases your hand.

But you’re not as forgiving now—misbehaving boys get punished. You lick the underside of his dick, dragging the flatness of it up to his head, saltiness of his pre-cum overpowering your tastebuds before pulling back to see Soobin has basically abandoned the game, head thrown back as both his hands grip the sheets under him, letting out broken pitched moans.

You smile, knowing you gave him the impression that you’d put him in your mouth. No, you’re here to have your fun. He peeks through an eye at feeling you do nothing more, and the moment he does, you slap—hard. Maybe a tad bit harder than you intended.

Your aim was his nutsack, balls full of cum you could see he was holding from the week you’ve challenged him to not jerk off, and god—the way his eyes fly open, jaw slacking as his legs spasm, letting out a sound you’ve never heard a man make— you wonder why you haven’t done this sooner.

“You didn’t get off like I told you to right? Good puppy.” He nods frantically, his vision fogging.

He looks so broken, tears streaming down his cheeks faster than you could even take notice of. If his friends didn’t hear him before, they definitely heard him now. He’s a hiccuping mess, nose running when you decide to give him a little more, swirling your tongue around his tip, warm in your mouth— then you pull back before he loses control and starts fucking your mouth.

“Puppy can’t talk? Your friends know how much of a whore you are now…isn’t that embarrassing?” you coo, your hand still jerking him off. “What would they say knowing you’re my little mutt, obeying each and every word like a dog in heat?”

The words are getting to him. He tried to keep quiet for the sake of his pride— anyone knowing how desperate he gets for you is a hit to his ego, it’s embarrassing the amount of things he’d do just for a chance of eating you out, but this spurs him on— having you degrade him, telling him what exactly he is to you. Your obeying dog.

You could see his lips quivering, and notice the tensing of his body. Quickly, you part your hair to the side, take him in your mouth all the way, trying to relax your throat as to not gag when your nose finally presses against his abdomen—but of course you do, it’s hard not to with how thick he is. It doesn’t take a milisecond before you feel his load spilling down your throat, his big hands moving to hold the back of your head, orgasm crashing down like waves of the pacific came over him.

You stay there for a few more seconds, feeling yourself get lightheaded with how much he manages to cum, and even when you pull away with a need to take a deep breath, you see that his dick was still spurting little bits. “Holy shit.” you say under your breath, slightly coughing as you wipe away at the semen that managed to dribble down your chin.

Soobin had a lot stored.

Soobin falls backwards on the bed, chest heaving up and down, trying to catch his breath, some of his hair plastered to his forehead and his temple. There’s a lot of thoughts spinning in his head. And he doesn’t exactly know how to label them. Lazily, he takes his headset off, throwing it to god knows where.

“Hey. Question.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you fuck other people?”

You perk up at the question, the randomness making you stay silent for a bit until you shrug. “No, not really.”

Soobin sighs. He doesn’t know why. Was it relief? Maybe. Probably.

“Do you?” you ask it almost timidly, unknowingly playing with the threads of your ripped jeans. Thank god to Soobin because he answers quickly, not allowing for any space of anxiousness.

“No. Only you.”

You slowly nod, pursing your lips. “Cool.”

“Yeah, very cool,” then his brows furrow at a thought popping up in his head, “Wait, do you like,”

You raise your brows. “Do I what?”

“Like, you know, suck off other guys?”

You scoff, he’s so ridiculous. You don’t even get to see his reaction to your answers, as you’re sitting on the floor and his back is on the mattress. “No Soobin, I don’t suck off other guys. Well, not as of recently. You’re the only one I’ve been doing this with.”

“Oh, o-okay.” You snort at the cute stutter.

Too bad you don’t catch the small ‘good’ he says under his breath.

note: when i checked the word count I was so shocked we’re keeping that a secret 😭 appreciate any feedback!

[dilemmaontwolegs]

For a snapshot imagine a driver accidentally hurting the reader and she has to hide it from Danny because he would lose his shit. He gets worried but a bit angry that she’s lying the cause of it. Once he finds out he wants to kill the other driver because is a severe injury

The Taste of Temptation || DR3 {4}

WC: 1.6k F1 Masterlist Story: One || Two || Three || Four || Five Snapshots One || Two || Three || Four || Five

You settled into the driver’s seat of an Aston Martin used for hot laps, keeping your arms out of the way while you were harnessed in. Lando and Oscar doing the same in the other two cars parked beside you, except they didn’t need the extra help to be buckled in. “I’m telling you now, this is a bad idea. I want that on the record. There’s a reason I’m a passenger princess.”

“You’ll be fine,” Lando promised over the headset and you fiddled with the dozens of buttons on the steering console. “Just don’t touch anything!”

“You should have told me that before.” The cameraman sat beside you laughed nervously and you narrowed your eyes at the lens. “If I die, I want you to remember this: I told you so.”

You muttered under your breath that you were not paid enough for the crap your employer put you through but it only made Oscar and Lando laugh as the microphone picked it all up. 

“Okay, we’ll start off with a warm up lap, just take it slow and get used to the car,” Oscar said as Lando led the way onto the track. “I’ll follow so you don't get lost.”

“It’s a flippin circle, Piastri, how often do you get lost?”

The car shot forward, throwing you and the cameraman back into your seats as you pressed the accelerator and out of reflex you slammed your foot on the brake to counter the effect. Oooph! The air was squeezed from your lungs as the car stopped but your body kept going forward, the harness like a wall hitting your chest. 

“I think you’ve put it in race mode. Turn it to sport mode.”

You scanned the buttons and saw what he meant, making the adjustment before tentatively touching the accelerator, gently speeding up to 70mph.

“I know we said take it slow but you can speed up a little bit,” Oscar teased as he tailgated you, Lando nowhere to be found up ahead.

“You do realise I am not actually a racer? I just date one.”

“Danny must have taught you something in the last two years.”

“Yeah,” Lando interrupted with a giggle. “But from what I heard, it isn’t anything to do with racing.”

You might have laughed if you weren’t concentrating so hard on following the track, until something caught your eye. “Uh, Oscar, are there wombats in Canada?”

“No…that’s a groundhog.”

Another brown ball of fur charged across the track and you screamed as you slammed on the brakes, not wanting to hit the poor animal. Oscar hadn’t expected you to brake so suddenly, or try to swerve aside. There was nothing you or he could do when you started to spin out, straight into the space his car was aiming for.

“Shit, shit, is she okay? Is she okay?” 

You could hear the panic in Oscar’s voice as he tried to push his way through the crowd of first responders trying to open your door. Pain radiated down your arm but other than that you seemed to be in one piece, except the world was upside down. “I told you so.”

“What the hell happened!” Lando exclaimed as he arrived at the crash site in time to see you escorted into the back of the medics van. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“Not particularly,” you murmured around the tube you bit between your teeth. You sucked in another deep breath of pain relief as your arm was jostled and looked up to see Lando shaking his head.

“Not you,” he said as he looked at Oscar’s pale face. “Daniel’s going to kill you, mate.”

“No, he’s not,” you huffed as you got off the stretcher you had been guided to. “I’m fine so he’s never going to know.”

“You see those,” Lando stabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “Those are cameras, they record things, pictures, sounds. Yeah, he’s gonna know.”

“I know what a camera is, a heavy one just fucking hit me.” You cradled your arm to your chest and took a calming breath. “This wasn’t live so it’s going to be a few weeks before this even gets uploaded. By then I’ll be fine and we can all have a laugh about it, alright. I just need to make sure Danny doesn’t hear about it before then.”

“Kind of hard when you need to go to the medical centre.”

“Then I won’t go.”

So you didn’t.

You did however accept the box of pain relief and advice to see a doctor if the pain persisted or you showed any signs of a concussion. You weren’t worried so much about that since the helmet had protected your head, it was just your arm that took the brunt of a camera smashing into it.

Daniel was surprised to see you already in the hotel room when he arrived from his meeting. Usually you stayed at the paddock later in preparation for the upcoming races but he was happy to have a few extra hours alone with you.

Leaning across the back of the couch, he greeted you with a kiss but you pulled away as his palms trailed down your body. His touch had been soft but you had still felt the burst of pain in your arm and you were glad to be wearing a long sleeve shirt to hide the bruised skin.

He frowned at the distance you had put between your bodies and he was instantly on edge. “What’s wrong, kitten?”

“Nothing, I’m just not feeling very good.”

He grabbed his phone and opened the app that monitored your monthly cycle before closing it with a frown. “Should I call for a doctor? Do you have a fever?”

He reached for your forehead but as his hand lifted it brushed against your arm and your face pinched as a pained cry hissed through your teeth.

“What happened?” he asked with barely restrained rage, his fingers desperate to touch you but unsure if it was going to cause you more pain. Tears were already welling in your eyes as you tried to keep the ruse up, but it was becoming unbearable.

“There was an accident,” you admitted as the wet streaks ran down your cheeks. “I didn’t want you to worry…”

“You’re hurt, kitten, of course I’m going to fucking worry.” He swiped the room key back up from where he had tossed it along with his phone and keys. “Come on. We’re going to the hospital. Now.”

You knew he was fuming from the clipped tone and the white knuckle grip he had on his keys. Reaching out with your good hand, you laced your fingers with his and whimpered into his chest. “I’m sorry.”

Daniel gently wiped the tears from your cheeks before kissing your forehead with a shaky breath. “I’m not angry at you, love, but don’t you ever lie to me again, not when it comes to your health.”

You nodded meekly before he reached for the door handle where he paused. “Lando or Oscar?”

“What?”

“You were filming with McLaren today.” He looked back at you, scanning your face for the truth. “Who do I blame?”

“It was an accident. Please, Danny, can we just go? It's so sore.”

His eyes softened at the admission and he twisted the handle but you knew the conversation wasn’t finished, merely delayed.

“He broke her fucking arm!”

The wince had nothing to do with the doctor setting the cast on your arm and everything to do with Daniel’s voice out in the corridor. He had been on the phone the instant the X-ray came back and showed a clear fracture down the bone. Now you were going to have a bulky accessory on your arm for the next six weeks.

“You’re lucky it was only her arm or I’d be on my way to jail by now,” he growled as he pushed the door open and shoved his phone back in his pocket.

“It was an-” you fell silent under the glare you knew wasn’t actually directed at you. He hated to see you hurt and hated he hadn’t been able to prevent it. It left his hands trembling with rage.

“I don’t know what they were thinking,” he muttered as he fell into the chair beside your bed and lifted your good hand to his lips. “Stupid fucking little videos...promise me no more.”

“But it’s my job.”

“Then quit,” he offered, like it was the simplest option in the world. “It’s not like you need it, I take care of you already, and I like taking care of you.”

“Danny…” you sighed, unsure how to approach the situation. “What if we ever broke up?”

“Is that in your plans?”

“No, but-”

“Good, because I plan on keeping you forever, and I’m more than happy to make that official. Obviously this is just a placeholder until we get home.” He started to pull the ring he wore on his pinky finger. “What? I’m terrible at losing shit, I wasn’t going to carry around your engagement ring until I found the right time to propose to you.”

You chuckled as he waited for your hand to unfurl from the fist it was in. “And you decided this was the right time?”

“I could have lost you today, kitten, I’m not going to waste another moment.” Your hand uncurled and the warm metal slid onto your ring finger before he kissed it and leaned in to kiss you too. “You’re mine, always.”

“Always,” you promised against his lips.

“Perfect, if we elope today I’ll get conjugal visits when I kill Oscar.”

Click here for part five

[normanreedusdaryl]

Losing it.

Rick Grimes x Daryl Dixon x Female!OFC

18+

Age gap (reader is 19 Daryl/Rick are late 40's), Slightly pervy, masturbation (F/M), CNC, some fluff, mentions of piss, cunnilingus, sex +more, so please read with caution

Synopsis: After Negan destroys Alexandria, you, Rick and Daryl find a secluded cabin where feelings start to brew…

CHAPTER 3: The Happening.

This is in Daryl's POV

Note this is my first fic series, so please be kind, tips are definitely appreciated. This will be the last chapter, not sure I really like where it's going it just feels too rushed.

NOT PROOF READ!

You tried getting to sleep, but you couldn't. Your mind racing from everything that just happened. You're now lying on the edge of the bed with the covers off. It's hot in the cabin, especially when you're sleeping next to two other people, so after thinking long and hard, you lift your tank over your head, it gets stuck midway, sticking to the sweat on your chest. You lay back down, wondering if it was a stupid thing to do. You didn't want to give her the wrong idea so you decide to face away from her. You eventually fall asleep. But you're woken up an hour or two later, when you feel her legs on top of yours. You must have turned and faced her in your sleep. Your brain went into panic mode as you quickly moved her leg off yours, sending the blanket flying onto Rick. Luckily it hadn't woken either of them, although now she was exposed. Her soft legs glistened in the moonlight. You couldn't help but look at her shorts riding up her legs, outlining her soft, puffy pussy lips. You couldn't believe what you were doing. You were like a teenage boy, drooling over his highschool crush.

You had only had sex once, it was a girl Merle had set you up with. She was attractive, and you in-experienced. You came before she could even get her tits out, she left in a strop never to be seen again. You were put off sex. Your brother used to bring many women home, sometimes multiple a night. You could often hear him through the walls grunting. You hated it, you hated everything about it. He always got the girls, and you... you were left with just your hands which you rarely used anyways. And here you are, thirty years later still thinking about it, still jealous of your brother.

You feel your body tense up in anger and regret. You had wasted those precious years of your life alone and depressed. You huff at your thoughts, trying to distract yourself from the memories of your life before. You can't help but look again, all this anger built up you just need a way to release it. Normally you'd run away or go out hunting but this time was different. You have a feeling, a feeling in your pants, the feeling of your soft cock slowly growing, resisting against your underwear. Your rock hard dick bulging out your trousers with no blanket to cover it. You move to the edge of the bed, making sure you don't accidentally wake her up. You cup your hands around your cock and balls, trying to hide your erection. It's painful, you can feel the zipper pushing against your tip, with your cock twitching every now and then. You shut your eyes trying to distract your thoughts but all you can think about is her pussy. You can't take the feeling anymore. So you quietly get up, put a jacket on and go outside. You walk for a bit, passing the tree that was previously squirted on until you find one big enough to cover you. You unzip your trousers, pulling them to your knees. You rub your bulging penis through your underwear, a wet patch forming at the tip. You pull them down and your penis flings out. Your cut cock leaking precum which you rub around your tip. You spit onto your dick, as you wrap your fingers round and start to jerk. Your average length, thick veiny dick thrusts in and out your hand as you shut your eyes. You think of her, her pussy, her rubbing her sticky fingers over your belly button, just like Rick had told you she had done. You let out a low moan imagining her warm lips around your hairy cock. It didn't take long until you felt your dick pulsating, shooting loads of warm cum on the side of the tree. You pull your pants back up, wipe your tip on your underwear and make your way back quietly, eventually falling back asleep.

You wake up to the sun beaming in your eyes. Ricks already up, it's just you two in bed. You move onto your side, facing her when you feel something sticky in your pants. It hits you, you didn't really go out last night, you had a wet dream. You looked down at your trousers, there it was... a large load of cum, leaking out of your pants, even leaking onto the bed. You didn't know what to do, you felt confused. She was only 19, she isn't even half as old as you are. But you didn't feel guilty, which made you feel guilty. She was the one who wanted you, the one who went behind a tree every morning and fingered herself to the thought of Rick and you. You felt defeated, you felt like Merle. If that was him she was touching, she'd be pregnant by now. Merle wouldn't care if it was morally right or not. You hated it, you had become a b-tech version of him. Too much of a pussy to fuck her. You decide to get out of bed, leaving her to alone, tangled in the sheets.

She doesn't get up for a few hours, you wait patiently, not letting the cabin go out of sight. Just after collecting some firewood you see her sitting on the steps of the cabin. You al'right? You ask, nervous for her answer. You have a good sleep? She smiles. A great one thanks, you? You froze, something in her eyes told you that she knew. Alright. You reply as you walk off quickly, you didn't want to seem too involved or she'd know something was up. You sat by the stream, cupping your hands to your face. The cold water running down the bridge of your nose, reaching your neck. The cum stain which was once wet has now dried solid, so solid it created a ripple in your jeans. You couldn't help but think about the dream, her soft pussy on display for you, shooting loads on cum onto the tree. You're a perv Daryl. You say to yourself as you lay flat on your back, the sun hitting your already rosey cheeks.

A while back you had found a bottle of expensive whiskey and decided to take it. You never thought you'd be drinking, just to gain enough confidence to speak to her. You really were a horny teenage boy. Taking the alcohol you found, and sneaking behind a tree to drink it. Almost like you were hiding from your parents, not wanted to get caught. Taking 4...5...6 big gulps, you felt a warm sensation tingle the back of your throat. You could feel it kicking in.

By the time you waked back to the cabin it was dark, easy to blame your stumbles on the fact you can't see. Walking into the cabin your eyes are met with her, wrapped in an old blanket shivering. You cold?... Yeah, freezing. You get an idea. Your drunk, stupid mind pulls out the now half empty bottle of whiskey from your bag. Here, take a swig of this. It'll warm you up good... But this is alcohol? I'm not of age... When have you ever cared about rules. You brush your thumb on her cheek, before she leans back taking a few large sips. She coughs at the burning sensation. That's discusting. You both laugh. It gets better the more ya drink, sweetheart. You see her eyes flutter at the fact you just called her sweetheart. daryl, I feel funny. Smirking at the comment she just made. You're drunk baby, you're drunk. She giggles before taking another few gulps, wiping her mouth with her hands. Should we save some for Rick?... I think maybe this should be our little secret. 

You're pissed drunk, not even thinking of the words coming out of your mouth. Quickly putting the bottle back in the bag, you get into bed and wait for Rick to enter. It's not long before he does, taking his shoes off and climbing into the bed, sandwiching her between you both. Its complete pitch black, complete silence. You move your body towards her, your legs touching hers. Heart pounding you grab her waist, bringing it closer to yours. If she wasn't awake before, she sure was now, Your bulging cock, prodding at her belly. Mhhh. She lightly moans as you push her further into your chest. Your rough hands moving around her waist before finally reaching her ass. Slipping your hand into her boxers. Her skin was soft, supple and hairless. You had never felt anything like it. Gliding your hands in between her cheeks, you spread them open, lightly tapping your fingers on the start of her pussy. You kiss her head as she grinds against your fingers, pushing them deeper into her wet, filthy folds. She was so wet you could hear it, hear her tiny pussy squelching against the force of your fingers inside her. Fuck me Daryl, please, do whatever you want to me. You couldn't belive it, she wanted you just as much as you wanted her. Rick will hear. You respond as she engulfs your finger into her pussy. Your fingertips feeling her warm, virgin walls. I'll be quiet, i promise. You slowly push her boxers down, taking them off completly, before she does the same to you, freeing your hard cock from the confinements of your jeans. You felt the tip hit her pussy as it came out, forcing you to grunt. You flip her over, making her face Rick. While kissing your ears, you aline your cock with her slit, moving it up and down. You could feel her juices leaking down the base of your cock. This was the moment, it was about to happen. You slowly pushed your cock into her pussy, until you could feel your balls touch her ass. You thrusted in and out slowly, making sure not to shake the bed too much. You tried being silent but the sound of her slick lubing your dick filled the room. You didn't care, you couldn't care, your thoughts were clouded by horniness. You went faster, as her breathing got heavier. Yeah good girl, take my big dick, take Daryl's dirty dick. You didn't even bother whispering, a part of you wanted Rick to wake up, Rick watching you cum in her pussy. It turned you on. You closed your eyes before planting your face into her neck, her clenching her walls tighter around your pulsing cock. Your thoughts are ruined by the sound of Rick waking. Looking up you see his mouth wide open in shock. You slow down your strokes, though not stopping completly. Daryl... What are you doing?... I can't help it Rick, she's being such a good girl. You take the covers off you both, reavealing your cock, thusting in and out her pussy. Daryl... this isn't right-... What? she wanted it Rick, she's the one who fingered herself, imagining us fucking her. Cmon man, join in. Ricks face is confused, but his body isn't. He's rockhard and your staring right at it. He places his hand onto her pussy, and slides them in. His fingers meeting your shaft inside. She screams. Rick, i can't last much longer, you're gonna neet to help me out. Rick complies, removing his jeans off. His dick springing out. You pump harder, and faster until eventually you cum inside her, Your cock shooting a warm load of sperm inside her pussy. Rick shoves his dick in after you, using your cum as lube. You watch Ricks ass thrust as he fills her pussy. Fuck baby, your gonna make me... uh.... uh...UH. Rick cums, shooting a second load into your pussy. He pulls it out, as you and Rick watch your cum bubble out her pussy.

[lionesses-lover]

New Girl - A. Russo

The one where you are hopelessly in love with the new girl on the team but she doesn’t seem to notice you.

word count: 5.5k

Notes: First fic ever! Hope you enjoy :)

The obsession wasn’t something you had planned. It crept up on you so suddenly that you never had a chance to process it. The minute you realised it was there you were already overcome with the powerful emotion and it was too late. You were hooked on the sweet, slightly clumsy blonde. 

Eight Years Ago

The first and only time you met was at an international camp. Norway U17s were playing England U17s at St George’s Park and at the big age of 16 it was your first time away from home and the pressure of representing your country was weighing heavily on your shoulders. The evening before the match you had felt sick to your stomach with nerves and nothing - not even the kind words of your best friend Ingrid - was able to calm you down

On the morning of the match you were still trembling with fear but tried to pull yourself together and eat some breakfast to help stop your stomach from screaming at you, telling you to go home. You eventually managed to get ready and go out to the pitch for your warm up. Then, you saw her. Chasing around a smaller brunette girl shouting something about shin pads.

“Tooney! I need those shin pads please give them back or I’ll tell the coach!” She shouted

“No way Alessia,” her friend, Tooney, replied, “this is payback for hitting me in your sleep on the bus.”

Alessia. That was her name. It was perfect.

You were stuck in place when you saw her. The light from the sun hit her perfectly, making her blonde hair shimmer and her blue eyes glisten. She looked like an angel, and just as she was turning around to carry on chasing her friend, her eyes locked onto yours. Only for a split second, but to you it felt like hours. However, before you could go and talk to her you were dragged away by Ingrid and then the match started. It was a tough match as the teams were quite evenly balanced, but unfortunately for you it ended 3-2 to England, with the girl who was already beginning to consume your thoughts scoring the winning goal in the 87th minute. All you wanted to do was go and introduce yourself, but sadly you had a flight to catch back to Norway. But that didn’t stop you from rapidly searching Instagram and eventually finding her account. Alessia Russo. Her full name sounded even more perfect. After scrolling through her posts, smiling to yourself at how gorgeous she looked, you quickly hit the follow button and turned your phone onto airplane mode before settling into you seat ready for the flight.

Unfortunately for you, that was as far as the interactions between the two of you went. A one second glance on opposite ends of a football pitch. When you switched your phone back on after your plane back home had landed you went straight onto Instagram in the hope that she had followed you back.

She hadn’t.

Present Day

“Have you heard the news?” Keira said as she bounced up to you upon entering training that day.

“No what’s happened now? Who’s injured” You asked, slightly worried as the last time Keira said there was news she revealed that Lucy had needed a minor surgery on her knee, which wasn’t the news you were hoping for.

“No one is injured don’t worry,” she replied, laughing at the panic that had spread across your face, “we are getting a new teammate tomorrow.”

“And we think you will really like her” said Ingrid, smirking whilst watching your reaction.

“Who is it?” You said.

“Alessia Russo, the blonde ex-Manchester United player, mine and Lucy’s teammate with England” answered Keira, grinning from ear to ear and bouncing around the changing room excitedly.

“Oh my god” you whispered to yourself, sitting down in shock at the thought of the girl you’ve been madly in love with for eight years finally noticing you. You turned on your phone to see the announcement posted on the FC Barcelona Femeni Instagram. Then you saw another notification.

@alessiarusso99 has started following you.

You couldn’t believe it.

“Are you finally going to make a move now?” asked Ingrid as she came and shook you out of your daze, reminding you that you needed to leave the locker room and walk to the training pitch. “You’ve been following her on Instagram for ages now, never messaged her and I know you’ve been in love with her for years. I think now is the perfect opportunity!” She said hopefully.

“I barely know her and she’s only just discovered who I am and followed me back, I’m sure she won’t be interested,” you replied sadly, “but that’s not going to stop me giving her the best welcome to Barcelona ever.”

“Ingrid, Y/N” shouted Alexia, your captain, “you can give relationship advice later, it’s time to train!”

———

After a very tiring and busy training session, filled with lots of teasing from you teammates, Mapi and Lucy in particular, who all knew about your not so secret crush, you finally made it home to your apartment. However you were not empty handed as you had decided to stop at a grocery shop on your way home to pick up some gifts to give to Alessia to try and welcome her to the team nicely tomorrow morning. You had bought some of your favourite chocolates, some fresh fruit and a small bottle of champagne so she could celebrate her new contract properly.

You went to bed early that night and made sure to set your alarm to wake up an hour earlier the next day. You were determined to make an unforgettable first impression on Alessia and that required you to get into training early so you would have the chance to speak to her and give her your gifts.

As you started to drift off to sleep, all you could think about was that gorgeous blonde who stole your heart in one moment all those years ago.

———

Your alarm woke you up bright and early the next morning and you had to take a moment in bed to remind yourself that today wasn’t a dream. She was really coming to play with you. After eight years of wishful thinking about being with her, eight years of staring at her through social media, your dreams were coming true. You were finally going to meet her.

After a quick drive you arrived at the training centre with a full hour before training began. As you roamed the empty hallways on your way to the locker room your eyes searched for a glimpse of  beautiful blonde hair, hoping you could talk to her and introduce yourself before your teammates arrived.

Unfortunately it appeared that luck wasn’t on your side today as Alessia didn’t appear until the rest of the team had arrived, Ingrid and Keira smirking to each other when they saw you patiently sitting by your locker with a small package next to you.

But when she did finally enter the room you were blown away. She was even more beautiful than her social media showed. You hadn’t seen her in person since that match eight years ago, but you were well aware that she had changed from a young girl into a grown woman, and that she had grown even more into her beauty in that time. You were not aware that her social media didn’t do her enough justice, even though she looked amazing in her Instagram posts. She was spectacular in person. Her long, tanned legs and her sleek blonde hair which was tied into her signature ponytail. Her stunning blue eyes which were shining with pride having just signed a new contract with one of the best clubs in the world. All of her was perfect. 

She walked timidly around the room, being introduced to all the players by Keira and Lucy, who had taken it upon themselves to give their national teammate the best start to the team possible. Finally, after what seemed like years, they reached you. 

“Hi Alessia it’s so nice to meet you, I’m y/n” you said, standing up to shake her hand in introduction.

“Hey,” she replied, quickly releasing your hand before staring down at the floor uncomfortably.

“I think you two have played against each other before” interrupted Keira, grinning at you.

“Um, yeah quite a while ago, I think you actually scored the winner Alessia,” you chuckled softly, hoping she would feel more comfortable.

“Oh, that’s weird I don’t remember it,” she said.

Across the room your eyes met with Ingrid as she looked at you sympathetically. She knew how much it must hurt you that Alessia doesn’t remember the moment you have been replaying in your head for almost a decade.

“No worries, like I said it was ages ago,” you smiled at her, before turning around and picking up the package you had been anxiously waiting to give her, “I actually got you a small gift, sort of a ‘Welcome to Barcelona’ thing, I hope you don’t mind.”

You had hoped she would open it then and there but sadly she just took the package, murmured a few words of thanks and moved on, following Keira as she was introduced to Alexia. 

Despite the slight rejection of your gift, you carried on getting ready for training as usual, ignoring the pitying looks of some of your teammates. You remained optimistic as you knew exactly what type of training was happening today, because you had checked the schedule in the coach’s office this morning before everyone arrived.

Today, the Barcelona women’s team would be doing training in groups based in their position on the pitch. This meant that, as you were also a forward, you would be in the same group as Alessia, who you hoped would agree to be your partner.

However, the universe seemed to have decided to make life hard for you today. By the time you plucked up the courage to ask Alessia to partner with you for one of the drills you were met with rejection once again.

“Sorry, I told Mariona I would go with her”

“Oh,” you said, trying to hide your disappointment as she refused eye contact and once again looked uncomfortable in your presence, “no worries I hope your first training goes well.”

Once again, you only received a small murmur of thanks before she turned around and walked away.

“Don’t worry,” said your national teammate Caroline as you partnered up with her instead, “I’m sure she is just nervous about being here.”

“It’s just sad,” you replied quietly, “I was so excited to finally speak to her and now I don’t think she likes me. What did I do wrong?”

“I don’t think it’s just you, she doesn’t look very happy to be with any of us,” Caroline answered, subtly pointing over to the other side of the pitch where Alessia and Mariona were working together in silence, with Alessia awkwardly looking around at the rest of the team.

“Hopefully she warms up to us soon,” you said, “I’m not sure my 16 year old self would forgive me if I let the girl of my dreams go without making a move again”

———

A month later, Alessia had made her debut for Barcelona and attended every single training session, slowly adjusting to the style of play that was always seen at the club. However there was one major issue. Alessia had not gone to any team bonding nights or accepted any offers from teammates to hang out after training. No one on the team knew what she did with her time, not even Keira or Lucy despite their many attempts to get Alessia to socialise.

Throughout the last month you had continued to try to partner up with or chat to Alessia, eager to get to know her better. However every time you were met with the same reaction. Short answers rejecting you whilst she looked uncomfortable. Each time this happened, it felt like a small piece of your heart was shattered, and you were dangerously close to having no heart all together after being rejected daily by the woman you so desperately wanted to be loved by. 

The heartache you were experiencing eventually got so unbearable that you found yourself going home with Ingrid and Mapi one night, in tears after attempting to ask Alessia if she wanted to go out to celebrate the latest Barcelona victory with the team. 

“I just don’t understand,” you cried as you sat with Ingrid sobbing into the cushions on her sofa, “why doesn’t she like us? Why doesn’t she like me? What did I do wrong”

“You didn’t do anything. I’m not sure why she doesn’t like us but it’s nothing to do with you,” replied your best friend as she felt her heart ache for you. She knew how desperately you wanted Alessia to like you, and didn’t understand why the blonde was so adamant not to accept your attempts at friendship.

“I agree with Ingrid, y/n”, said Mapi, “I’m sure it’s nothing personal, maybe she’s just shy.”

After another few hours of crying your heart out to your best friend and her girlfriend you decided to go home and attempt to get some sleep before enjoying your day off tomorrow. But once again, the universe had other plans. You were driving through the dark streets of Barcelona when you passed the apartment block where Keira and Lucy lived. It was also the apartment block where Alessia lived, in the apartment next to her English teammates in an attempt to make the transition to Barcelona easier for her.

Angry, hurt and disappointed, you suddenly felt the urge to visit the blonde. You needed an answer as to why she rejected the team, why she rejected you. You needed to know whether there was a chance that you would ever be someone she loved. 

So, you parked your car, walked into the building, took the lift to the second floor and walked up to the door of Apartment 3. Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door and waited. Thirty seconds later, the door opened and you were met with the blonde beauty you cared so deeply for. 

“y/n, what are you doing here?” she asked, slightly alarmed at your sudden presence at her door.

“I need to speak to you, can I come in?” you asked shyly, now fully aware of where you were and what you were doing.

“Um,” she hesitates, looking behind her into the apartment, before eventually sighing and opening the door, “sure, come in.”

As you step into Alessia’s apartment for the first time, you are hit with a shock. It’s empty. The only things in the main rooms are a table and chair in the kitchen and a sofa and television in the lounge. There are no photos, no trophies or medals, no personal belongings suggesting that someone actually lives there. You look to your left into the bedroom and you see a mattress on the floor. She doesn’t even have a bed. 

Alessia clears her throat, “What did you want to talk about?”

“Why is your apartment empty?” you interrupt.

“I haven’t got round to settling in properly,” she answered, looking down sadly, “I also don’t really know my way around the city. I don’t leave the apartment that much.”

“Why?”

“I’m on the phone a lot. I call my mum, dad and brothers once a day, and my best friend Ella every two days. I also call some more of my old teammates every week.”

“Do you miss them?” you asked softly.

“So much,” she replied, looking up so you could see the tears that were appearing in her eyes, “I haven’t been away from them since I went to UNC for college but this is different.”

“I understand,” you told her quietly, “when I moved from Norway to Barcelona I was terrified about being alone that I texted my mum every hour. It was stupid but I genuinely thought no one else would talk to me.”

She stayed quiet, sitting down on the sofa playing with her fingers. You could tell she was trying not to cry. Taking a deep breath, you sat down beside her.

“Is that why you haven’t been accepting anyone’s offers to hang out?” you asked, “because you miss your family so you want to speak to them?”

“Sort of,” she confessed, “ I guess it started off that way but now I’m scared none of the others will like me. Barcelona is a tough team to join - you guys are all so close that it’s a bit intimidating to try and make friends with.”

“But we have been trying to get you to hang out with us for almost a month, you’ve even turned down Keira and Lucy,” you said.

“I guess I was worried I had missed too much. I thought it would be awkward if I tried to get close to the team now after being quite antisocial for the first month,” she sighed, running a hand through her beautiful blonde hair. “I’ve also been so busy trying to get settled into my new home at the same time as trying to improve and develop my skills on the pitch.”

“But you are doing great! You have played in 3 matches so far and the team is winning all the time,” you argued.

“I haven’t scored,” she whispered, “I’m a striker and I haven’t scored. I’m letting the team down because I literally can’t do the only thing my job says I need to do.”

“That will come with time,” you reassured, slowly reaching a hand out and placing it on her back, rubbing circles in an attempt to comfort the crying blonde, “when you are properly settled in you will be able to relax and just enjoy playing the game you love. The first thing you need to do is sort this place out. You can’t live with no bed and no photos and personal items around.”

“I don’t know where to go,” she admitted shyly.

“Well, we have a free day tomorrow, why don’t I go home now, you promise to get some sleep, and I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning and take you shopping. I’ll even help you organise everything so you feel more at home,” you suggested, secretly hoping she’d say yes in order to give you a chance to spend time with the blonde you had been dreaming of for eight long years.

Taking a deep breath, Alessia looked up at you.

“Alright, pick me up at 10?” she suggested shyly.

“I’ll be here.” you smiled.

———

The next day, as promised, you were outside Alessia’s front door at 9:55, five minutes early, which gave you five minutes to calm yourself down and reassure yourself that it was all going to be okay. You had been given a golden opportunity to make the girl you loved like you a little bit and you were not going to ruin it. Slowly, you reached out and knocked on the door, just like you had done the night before.

“Hi,” said Alessia as she opened the door, “I wasn’t sure whether you were being serious last night.”

“Of course I was being serious,” you chuckled, before holding out your hand and offering her the bouquet of flowers you had picked out at a local florist in your way to her apartment, “I um, I got you these, I thought they would be the first step in getting you settled into Barcelona.”

“Thank you so much y/n” she said, taking the bouquet as a grin began to spread across her face, “ I’ll put them in the sink until we buy a vase.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, it didn’t cross my mind that you wouldn’t have one,” you said, suddenly feeling very nervous.

“It’s fine don’t worry about it,” she chuckled softly, stepping out of the apartment, “that’s why you’re here, we are going to get me properly moved in so I can finally score my first Barcelona goal!”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m here for,” you said quietly. Was that all she thought this was? Did she just think you were doing this as a favour? You wished you could tell her how you felt, how you have been in love with her since you were 16 and you saw her once at a match. But sadly she didn’t even remember that match.

Taking what seemed like your millionth deep breath of the morning, you eventually said, “Come on Lessi, let’s go.”

If you had paid more attention to Alessia instead of focussing on trying to stop your hands shaking with nerves as you closed her front door behind her, you would have noticed the small blush that covered her cheeks as she heard the nickname you had used without noticing.

———

“I can’t believe you’re that clumsy!” You laughed as the pair of you returned to Alessia’s apartment, arms full with boxes of household items.

“It’s not my fault I couldn’t see the step was there!” she argued, grinning widely at you, “carrying this massive box is hard!”

You chuckled at her before replying: “Well at least you can finally sleep on a proper bed instead of a mattress on the floor.”

“Only if you help me set it all up,” she said, hoping you didn’t plan on leaving yet.

“Of course I’ll help,” you answered, your heart flipping around in your chest at the thought of spending even more time with the blonde, who finally seemed to be feeling more comfortable around you.

———

Four hours later, as the sun began to set in Barcelona, you and Alessia flopped tiredly onto her sofa, before looking around at her apartment. It looked like a home. You had bought some nice decorations for the rooms, as well as convincing her to finally unpack the many boxes containing photographs, trophies and medals from over the years, convincing her to display them to make the home seem personalised.

“It looks lovely, I feel so much better thank you y/n”she said softly, turning to face you, “I’m so glad to have you as my friend.”

Friend. 

Your heart broke a bit more upon hearing her call you that. As you looked into those beautiful blue eyes you desperately wished you could find the courage to confess all the feelings you had been keeping secret for the entire day. But sadly, you couldn’t. You didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable. You didn’t want to pressure her into something when she was still settling into her new life. 

“You’re welcome,” you replied quietly, “I’m always here if you need me, um, I should probably go, it’s getting late and we have training tomorrow.”

“Oh, um, sure,” she said, getting up to walk you to the door, “See you tomorrow.”

“Bye Lessi,” you said as you stood in her doorway, before taking a deep breath and doing what you knew deep in your heart you had to do. 

You slowly leant forward and hugged her. Putting your arms around her waist and letting her arms fall round your shoulders. It wasn’t a long hug, but it was what you both needed. You needed some love given to you after being in love for so long, and Alessia needed some comfort and a sense of belonging from a kind person who had managed to force themselves into her heart within a few hours.

As you pulled apart, both of you wearing matching blushes on your faces, you couldn’t help but smile at the hope that something could finally happen between the two of you.

“Right, I really need to go now otherwise I’m going to be late going to sleep, which means I’m going to be late waking up and so might be late to training and then Alexia will kill me,” you said, suddenly getting very nervous standing in front of Alessia.

“Bye y/n, see you tomorrow”

———

Two weeks later

If you said the past two weeks had been great then you would be lying. They had been like a dream. 

Every morning you walked into training and were greeted by a grinning Alessia Russo, who had become a totally different person. Her blonde hair shimmered and her blue eyes shone brightly as she chatted to many of your teammates throughout the weeks, making up for the time that was lost as she was adapting to Barcelona life.

You had finally had the opportunity to partner up with her in a few training drills and it was wonderful. The bond between the two of you was slowly getting stronger and that was showing both on and off the pitch. The pair of you had began hanging out after training every day - watching movies, visiting coffee shops and going shopping to grow Alessia’s wardrobe after she had admitted to you that she left most of her clothes back in England.

However, the only thing that wasn’t perfect was your growing love for the English blonde. You tried to keep your feelings hidden but it was becoming increasingly difficult not to confess everything to her as you became closer. 

“I don’t understand you,” said Keira one afternoon at training, as she watched you watch Alessia run around, chasing after Aitana and Claudia.

“What do you mean?” you asked absentmindedly, trying to contain a smile as the sweet noise of Alessia’s infectious laugh reached your ears.

“You are obviously in love with her and she is obviously in love with you, why don’t you tell her how you feel?”

You turned round to face Keira, the smile on your face vanishing, “It’s not that easy, she doesn’t like me,” you said sadly, “she thinks of me as a friend. That’s it.”

“I think you’re being stupid,” sighed Keira, “at least tell her how you feel, please. I don’t like watching you obsess over her. It just makes you sad because you’ve convinced yourself you’ll never have her, which is a lie.”

“I just don’t want to get hurt,” you said, “I’d much rather be her friend than nothing in her life.”

Taking a deep breath, you turned away from Keira, trying to stop your tears appearing at the thought of Alessia rejecting you.

———

“y/n! y/n!” shouted Alessia, desperately trying to get your attention over the loud music at the club, “come and dance with me!”

You hesitated, not wanting to risk being at such a close proximity to Alessia without being able to hold her or kiss her.

As if she could sense your hesitation, she shouted once again, “Pretty please, think of it as my reward for getting my first Barcelona goal.”

You were hooked. The combination of her adorable puppy dog eyes and the memories of her gorgeous 57th minute strike (assisted by you) against Real Madrid earlier that day were more than enough to convince you to go and join her on the dance floor.

As you approached the beautiful blonde you had your first opportunity of the night to take in her outfit. She was wearing a gorgeous all-black suit paired with a black crop top. She looked flawless. You just wished you could tell her that she took your breath away.

However, it seemed that Alessia had also been having similar thoughts, as she shouted “you look so good tonight, I love your style, you look amazing,” before throwing you a lopsided grin.

“Thank you Lessi, you look beautiful,” you said, finding courage in the compliment you had just received.

You slowly placed your hands around her waist as she looped her arms around your neck - the pair of you slowly swaying to the music that was being played in the club.

“I’m so happy you helped me settle in to life here, it’s wonderful. I’m really grateful to have found a friend like you,” she said happily.

There it was again. Friend. The word that made your stomach turn and you heart crack. You wished she would see you as more than that - you would give her the world if she asked you - would a friend do that?

Once again, it was as if she could sense your hesitation as she softly asked, “what’s wrong y/n? Did I do something? You seem sad.”

You rapidly looked around, trying to think of an excuse to leave the conversation before you became dangerously close to exposing yourself. However, all you saw was Ingrid and Mapi, dancing a few metres away from you. They looked so happy and in love. Mapi looked at your best friend as if she was the only person in the room and Ingrid looked at her as if she had hung the moon and the stars. 

You wanted that. You wanted that with Alessia. It was all you had wanted since you first saw her on that football pitch all those years ago.

Suddenly, you were hit with the realisation that if you didn’t do anything about your feelings then you would never have the love you so desperately wanted. Slowly, you turned back to Alessia, smiling gently as your eyes met with her.

“No I’m not okay Lessi,” you said calmly, trying to take deep breaths and say what you needed to say, “I’ve been in love with you since I saw you on the football pitch at St George’s Park eight years ago and I know you don’t remember it but you stole my heart and you are all I’ve been thinking about ever since. I’m so sorry if you don’t feel the same way and I really don’t want to make things awkward between us but I needed to tell you before it breaks me. Because I can’t keep living my life too scared to admit that I love you.”

You quickly shut your eyes after your confession, not wanting to watch her reaction in fear of disgust and rejection taking over her face.

“y/n” she said slowly, “I need to tell you something too”

You looked up to face her, ready to hear that you were too late - she was in love with someone else.

“I remember the match. I didn’t at first, but when I was sorting out all my photos the other day I found a photo from the match. We won 3-2. I scored the winner.”

You nodded carefully.

“You’ve been so lovely to me over the past few weeks. You made an effort to try and get to know me even when I was too shy and homesick to accept your kindness. I was so excited when I joined Barcelona from Manchester United. Not only because I was going to play for the best club in the world but because I was going to finally meet the player that my friend Ona had been telling me about. The beautiful Barcelona player who her Spanish teammates played with. I found you on Instagram and I was hooked, you are gorgeous.”

“Lessi..” you began, still trying to absorb the new information about her feelings.

But before you could ask what she was trying to say, Alessia leant forward and captured your lips with hers, pulling you into her by the waist whilst giving you a bruising, passionate kiss in the middle of the dance floor. 

Previously, there had been many times where you had dreamed of kissing Alessia. But no dreams could ever compare to the real thing. Her lips locked onto yours so perfectly it felt as though she was made for you. As cliché as it sounds, everyone else in the busy club seemed to fade away. You could vaguely hear Keira and Lucy shouting in the background but you blocked them out, instead choosing to wrap your arms around the blonde, trying to savour every second of this moment.

Eventually, you both pulled away, breathing heavily and smiling giddily.

“So does this mean you feel the same?” you asked shyly, hoping to hear her confirm what you already knew.

“How could I not? I love you too y/n” she answered, pulling you into her again and pressing her lips against yours.

“Finally!” You heard Ingrid say, “she’s only been crushing on Alessia for eight years”

Finally, you thought, finally you had the girl of your dreams.

———

[perfectly-imperfect82]

Elevator - Claudia Pina

"Come on, we are going to be late" claudia said grabbing my hand, causing me to blush as she dragged me down the hall to the elevator

“Someone not want to run extra laps?” You asked with a laugh as you clicked the elevator button

“Not all of us enjoy running” claudia said bumping my shoulder with a smile as the elevator open causing you both to enter

The next moment, the elevator started to shutter and shack causing you to stumble into the wall before it stopped

“This doesn’t seem good” you said as you realized the elevator wasn’t moving

“I think it’s stuck” claudia said quietly causing you to hit the help button as you moved to the railing and tried to think of anything besides the idea that you were in a small space for who knows how long

“You okay?” Claudia asked

"I'm fine" you said as your grip tighten on the railing in the elevator and closed your eyes to take a few steady breaths to control your breathing and lower your heart rate as you felt Claudia eyes on you

"Lets call someone" you said

"Your late!" Mapi yelled angrily over the phone

"Claudia and i are stuck in the elevator" you said over the phone

"Mapi, I don't like small spaces" you mumbled, hearing her lowly cuss before talking to someone

"We are going to get you out of there shortly, okay" mapi said "okay"

"Claudia?" You asked how watching her start to pace, causing you to ignore Mapi who was trying to figure what was going on with Claudia who was calm a second ago

"My phone isn't working" she said with wide eyes

“Who do you want to talk to? I can have Mapi put them on" you said gently, hoping to calm her down however it didn’t to a think, as if she hadn’t heard you

Completely forgetting about your phone as you focused on the girl in front of you who was in a full blown panic mode

"Claudia, hey listen to me"you said as you quickly as you held her face in your hand to get her to focus on you

"We are going to be okay. There are people working right now to get us out. We just have to hang out here together a little longer" you said trying to get her to calm down and prevent her form also causing you to panic.

Claudia started to struggle to breath as she eyes couldn't say focus causing you to panic so you did the only thing you think of, you kissed her.

It was a short kiss but it caused your heart to race

When you opened your eyes, Claudia has calmed down but was looking at you with shock but confused looked as you looked back nervously at what was going to follow next

"It calmed you down" you said with a blush as she smiled up at you before pulling you to her and her hiding her face in you neck. You gave her a gentle squeeze as whispered reassurances in her ear

"Your heart is racing" Claudia mumbled as you felt her breath on your neck causing you to nod as you felt a shivers up you spin

"Yeah" you finally replied softly as you felt Claudia come out of her hiding spot and place a hand on your heart as she looked you in the eyes

“Go on a date with me?” You hesitantly asked, hopeful that she would like you back due to her reaction

Claudia surprised you by pulling you in to a gentle kiss causing you to both to smile into the kiss before spreading, still nothing holding giant smiles

“I’m going to take that as a yes” you stated with a small smile as claudia laughed with a smile

The moment ended when you both heard shifting of elevator causing panic to shot through you, pulling claudia tighter to you as you felt her do the same

Only losing your grip once a panel was removed from the ceiling for you both to see fire fighters looking down at you

“We going to pull guys up and through the doors of the closed floor” one explained before reaching a hand down

"You go first" you said gently pushing her towards the hands that were reaching out to grab her as she sent you a hesitant look back

"I'll be right behind you" you said with a gentle smile said causing her to nod and watched as she was helped out of the elevator, leaving you alone in it. Feeling the panic start to rise at being alone and once again closing your eyes and taking deep breaths to keep calm

“Ma’am, your turn” a firefighter said reaching his arms down causing you to grab them, pulling you up and guiding you to the exit

Instantly looking for Claudia and only calming when you see her safe in Alexia arms before feeling relief as someone pulled you into their arms and another pair wrap around the two of you

"Are you okay?" Mapi asked causing to pull away some to see Ingrid was the others who arms you was in

"I'm exhausted" you said as you felt yourself relax against Mapi as you gave ingrid a smile causing her to place a kiss to your temple

"At least your first travel game will have a memorable story" Lucy said causing Kiera to slap her in the back of the head as Mapi and Ingrid glared and I laughed

"Very memorable" I mumbled as I glanced at Claudia with a small blush causing Mapi to whisper "I'll heard what you and Claudia talked about" as I look at her with a blush as Ingrid and her gave me knowing looks as you saw Claudia in the same position as you with Alexia

[theocddiaries]

[TV, Loud] Sonic [comes running]: Ow! Ow! Why is it so loud? My ears are bleeding! Shadow [fighting with the remote]: I don't know! Make it stop! Sonic: Where were you pointing it? Shadow: At the TV. Sonic [laughs]: Uh, no. It's a home theater. Shadow: What, so I can't point it at the TV when I want to watch the TV? Sonic: No. You point it at the receiver. Shadow: What's a receiver? Sonic: …Okay, imagine our home theater system is a human body. So then the receiver is the brain. The TV is the face. Shadow: I know what part you are… Sonic: Hey, I'm trying to help. Shadow: No. You're being condescending. You love when I can't understand any of this stuff. Sonic: Maybe you're just insecure because when it comes to anything electronic, you're not exactly the best student. Shadow: I am very smart. I am the ultimate lifeform. Sonic: And this is the ultimate remote. They gave it three and a half mice. Tell you what, just to prove how wrong you are, I'm gonna teach the dumbest in our group to use it in 20 minutes or less. Shadow: Ok--Wait. Who's the dumbest according to you? Sonic: Wade. Shadow: Wade? No, Wade understands electronics. Even though he struggles with zippers. I know because you laughed at that inconsistency during the last dinner. And then you choked on your hot dog sausage and almost died. Sonic: Knew it was weird that you were listening to me… Alright, who then? Shadow: Knuckles. Sonic: … … O-Okay. Shadow: Deal? Sonic: Yeah, deal! And you're being a bit mean, Knuckles is pretty smart. Knuckles [comes in running]: Hey, guys, tell Mother and Father I'm going for a-- Sonic: Knuckles, look out! [Knuckles bumps into the glass door that leads to the garden] Knuckles: Ow! I thought we agreed not to clean the windows so thoroughly! Sonic: … [moments later] Sonic: Now press the button labeled "Activities." Knuckles: Where is that? Sonic: It's just to the right. To the right. And now choose "Watch DVD." Knuckles: What? Sonic: Knux, you gotta focus. We've only got 20 minutes. Knuckles: This is stupid. I only watch TV on movie nights or if it happens to be on while I eat breakfast. Why do I have to learn this? Sonic: Because Shadow doesn't think you can. Knuckles: Nobody can. Sonic: Knuckles, listen to me. [gets on his knees and grabs Knuckles' shoulders]: Listen to me. I know this seems impossible. But this is for all those times that guy told you he was right and you knew he was wrong. Knuckles: ...Step aside, hedgehog, I'm gonna tame the beast. Sonic: That's my brother. [LATER…] Sonic: You ready? Knuckles: Let's do this. Shadow: Turn on the TV. Knuckles [turns it on] Shadow: Mute it. [Sound Off] Shadow: Un-mute it. [Sound on] Shadow: Put on a DVD. Now, skip forward. Knuckles: Um… [thinks for a moment and does it] Shadow: …Okay, back to the TV. Knuckles [goes back to the TV] Sonic [clears throat with a smug smile] Shadow: Don't get all cocky, faker. Let's see what happens to little Knuckles… [grabs the remote and now there's only static on the TV screen]: …when I do this. Knuckles: Oh… Shadow: Oh? Knuckles: S-Sonic, wh-what do I do? Sonic: Don't panic, buddy. We went through this. Just--Just think. Shadow: Give up. Give up. Admit defeat. Knuckles [takes a deep breath and does as he says it out loud]: Okay. Uh, let's see. You put the remote on to TV mode and then press "Input" till you get HDMI 1 and-- [TV goes back on, showing a man getting to the finish line and celebrating with a cheering crowd] Sonic and Shadow: Oh, my, he did it. Knuckles: I did it! [laughs and whoops] [Sonic and Knuckles hug and laugh] Shadow: Fine. You proved your point. Everybody in this house is smarter than me. [leaves in a huff] Sonic: No, no, you're missing the point. I taught Knuckles how to use the remote in 20 minutes. So think how fast you can learn it! Knuckles: Yes! … Wait, what's that supposed to mean? Sonic: …See what I'm saying?

[hockybish]

You're Not Doing This Alone

l West Winds au l dad!trevor au l masterlist l

March 2020

The second Trevor left her room, Bean grabbed her phone hitting the name of the only other person who knew about the whole predicament, a friendly face the was over 3,000 miles away.

"Hey Bean what's up?" The voice on the other end of the phone asked. Considering the time difference between Boston and Vancouver, she guess the hockey player she was talking with was about to leave for a game.

She sniffled unsure how to tell her confidant on the other end of the line about the transaction that just transpired between her and the baby daddy.

"Bean? What's wrong? Is it the baby?" Quinn frantically asked, going into protective big brother mode. He wasn't actually her older brother but the fact that she went to him for everything made him feel one.

"I " Bean started, but were unable to finish with what she were going to say.

"You told him didn't you?" Quinn somehow was able to read your mind. You never knew how he did, it was super power of his. "And let me guess he didn't take it well?"

~

"I'm pregnant ... and I think I'm gonna keep it"

Trevor ran his fingers through his hair. Bean was pregnant and it was his fault. What was he going to do? He was too young to be a dad.

The phone in his pocket brought him out of his thoughts. Glancing at device it was Cole. He didn't want to talk to him but his shaking hand accidentally clicking on the call accept button.

"Hey Z you wouldn't believe what just happened. So ..." Cole excitedly chatted his ear off. Trevor drowned out whatever crazy thing his friend was telling him.

"You're not saying anything. Why aren't you saying anything. Z what's wrong?" Before he knew what he was saying, Trevor spilt the beans, telling his friend everything, about Bean, the baby, his panic, how he didn't know what to do.

"So what you're saying is that you got your best friend pregnant and now you're gonna leave her?"

"I don't know"

"Well you better figure it out otherwise you're gonna have to deal with us." Alex's threatening voice came over the receiver.

~

That night Trevor made his decision. He waited until the next day after the one class they had together, that she didn't show up for, to go talk to her. Her roommate almost didn't let him see her, but Bean told her it was alright.

"Z I haven't changed my mind, I going to keep 'em." Bean placed her hand over her still flat belly. Trevor was about to make a comment on his part in everything when she starting talking again.

"You can be there if you want, but you don't have to. I know having a baby when you're still a kid yourself isn't ideal and you have hockey."

"Stop talking. Can I say something please?" He cut her off, placing his hand on top of hers. She was right, it wasn't the ideal time to have a kid, but that was his kid. He couldn't just abandon them.

"I know we're not together, or anything like that but if you want this I'll be with you one hundred percent of the way. Whatever you want to do I'll be there."

"Are are you sure?" she bit into her bottom lip, a nervous tic of her's. She was so sure her best friend wasn't going to take the out.

"You don't have to Z. I wouldn't come after you for money or anything like that if you're worried. You don't need to do this if you don't want to. I don't want you to regret anything because a child is a binding thing and you have your career and I don't want to ruin that experience for you."

"I'm positive Tallulah. I was there, it take two to tango, even if we both were drunk. I'm not going to let you raise a kid that's part me on your own. I'm going to help any way i can. It's the responsible thing to do. I'm not leaving."

"Okay, let's do this." Bean laced her fingers with his.

[lieutenantfloyd]

When Duty Calls Part 1 | Cyclone x Reader

Word count: 1.9k

Summary: Your return home brings you inner turmoil, prolonged typing bubbles, and what may turn out to be a chance to mend what you broke.

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, a lot of internal thoughts/monologue, implied non-platonic feelings (if you squint).

a/n: This took a bit longer to get out than I’d hoped, but I’m so excited to have gotten the ball rolling!

Read on AO3

In your experience, one of the hardest parts of being back stateside is the noise. Both the quiet and the loud.

Your former home — An aircraft carrier somewhere in the middle of the Pacific — was by no means quiet, but each sound, each movement, each person, had its purpose. the low hum of radio chatter or the sound of planes taking off overhead had become a strange comfort to you. You were one of the lucky ones who quickly found where you belonged amongst that noise. Now after years spent painstakingly carving your name into the Naval history books, you were far from just another officer. And yet, in some twisted way, that glorious reputation of yours is exactly what brought you back here in the first place.

Exactly 23 hours ago you were still stationed on that aforementioned aircraft carrier, completely unaware that you would soon be summoned and informed — albeit with more eloquent verbiage — that you were to pack your things and head back to TOPGUN. A thousand different questions brewed inside you, but you were well aware that the Navy has never been the place to voice them. Instead, you honored each following set of instructions with nothing more than a simple "Yes sir, no ma'am".

The subsequent hours were filled with personal chaos and three different modes of transportation. Luckily, not much could phase you at this point. At least not enough for anyone to pick up on your external cues of panic. Contrary to the aviator stereotype, you liked to think of yourself as level-headed with a strong preference for flying under the radar, both in a literal and figurative sense. You'd weathered through everything the last 24 hours had thrown at you without so much as a snide remark. You kept your calm when the airline briefly lost your single piece of checked luggage. You even brushed off each lingering stare and every all too frequent ask of "So, Is your husband/brother/father/next-door neighbor in the service?". Yet, approximately three and a half minutes ago, something in you started to crack. Logic told you that this was just your nervous system coming to terms with what the next several weeks would entail, but an increasingly large part of your mind knew that that was only half the story. But seeing as you currently found yourself frozen in the back of your Uber, gripping the door handle as if your life depended on it, these facts were neither here nor there. As the latest wave of anxiety runs its course you suppress a shudder and call on your now-sapped willpower. Logic once again tells you that fresh air helps in these situations, so you force your pointer finger out and roll the window down. You hold the button until the window is right above halfway down. Just far enough to let the bright San Diego sunshine in while still allowing you to lean your head against the cool glass. After a few deep breaths, you run your tongue along the outside of your lips. The air is laced with the familiar taste of sea salt. If your memory served you right, you were just under a mile from the ocean and no more than three from base. The thought had barely crossed your mind before the pang of countless different emotions hit you. You silently curse your faultless sense of direction. In sudden need of a distraction, your free hand reaches into your bag and pulls out your phone. You blink away the dryness in your eyes before shifting your attention to the small screen which only takes a halfhearted tap to flash to life. You swipe through your notifications before tapping on the message that's been lingering in the back of your mind since the early hours of the morning.

I'm assuming you've been made aware of your latest assignment. received 7:13 am. — followed by — We hope your trip back goes well. received 7:26 am.

I landed about an hour ago, you text back. Headed home now.

It didn't surprise you that Warlock would be the first to reach out. Given his rank and location, he probably knew all about the mission. Plus, if you knew anything about the man, it was that he's always been the diplomatic type. From the stories you heard of their younger years, a part of you has always wondered if this is why his friendship with Cyclone worked so well.

Speaking of Cyclone, you click the back button and select his contact. Your last conversation with him — dated just one day before your deployment — quickly appears. God, had it really been almost five months since you last spoke? At this revelation, you sit staring at the screen for a few beats. You knew him and his personality far too well to expect him to welcome you back with open arms, but that didn't make the radio silence hurt any less. You want nothing more than to reach out, but with a shaky breath, you remind yourself that he's a horribly busy man with fewer personal relationships than you can count on one hand. However, this doesn't stop a flash of sadness from coursing through your body.

Exiting the text thread, you click on the only other new message. It's from an unsaved number and its contents inform you that everyone who's been called back is meeting up tonight at the Hard Deck. Just as you are about to send back a quick "thank you. Who is this?", something else pops into your mind and grabs your interest entirely. You quickly back out and tap on Warlock's contact. You read his second message again, Then at least five more times after that.

We hope your trip back goes well.

We?

You weren't one to get into the semantics of things, but the ambiguity of his word choice hung heavy over you. There was a possibility that he was innocently referring to himself and his wife. Yet there was an equal, and far more electrifying, chance that he was talking about himself and Cyclone. It was no secret to Warlock that the pair of you were, at least at one time, immensely close. That familiar itch returned to your fingertips, though this time you feared it would be here to stay. Over the last five months, You've been down this path countless times before. Yet each time it got harder and harder not to simply dial his number and ask about his day as if no time had passed at all. Reminding yourself that the chances of him picking up were firmly in the negative, you looked from your phone entirely and instead redirected your sights to the world outside. As you look up, The car rounds one last corner and the familiarity of your surroundings kicks into overdrive. The lump in your throat grows as both the ocean and your house come into view. Your heart swells as you realize your neighborhood hasn't changed a bit. You were fully prepared for your homecoming to be emotionally taxing, but what you hadn't prepared for was just how right it would all feel.

You come to a stop at the curb directly across from your house. You thank the driver as you exit, and a moment later your feet hit the concrete. Your hands are surprisingly steady against your luggage. The car slowly pulls away. You are left standing in your yard, phone in hand, staring up at your long-established home. The walk up the driveway is one you've made at least a thousand times. And something in you knows that it's the bittersweet familiarity of it all that finally allowed your one inescapable urge to take hold.

The rational side of your brain — the one you should be more inclined to listen to in this situation — told you that he's probably terribly busy doing all those terribly important Vice Admiral things he spent far too many hours a day doing. But the emotional side — the one that above all else, won't let you forget your history together — told you that all you really wanted was to hear his voice again. Or at very least get a few words of blunt (and often trenchant) encouragement. Your suitcase rolls over polished hardwood as you close the door behind you. The only thing you're greeted by is a stale silence. Your friends in the area had been kind enough to stop by while you were gone to ensure remained in working order, but that didn't make the stillness any easier to swallow.

Surely there's no harm in simply reaching out, right?

It was in that moment, standing with your back against the front door, that you hoisted up your white flag of defeat. Almost instantly your fingers were fast at work typing out your message before your conscience could reckon with how bad this idea was. Your words of choice were innocuous enough, yet you feel nothing but anguish the moment after you hit send.

Hey there. I know it's been… a while. You probably know I'm back in town on orders. If you have the time, I'd love to catch up. Sent >1min ago.

You kick your shoes off with a frustrated huff and immediately head for your bedroom. For what you lacked in the typical aviator ego, you made up for tenfold with split-second impulsiveness. On the bright side, you at least had the sense to leave the "I miss you so bad please respond" part unsaid. It's a short walk, and you toss your phone onto your bed once you're there with the full intention of taking a quick shower. Only, your phone lands face up. Leaving you watching in horror as your still unlocked screen proudly displays the typing bubbles on his end slowly appearing and disappearing.

Somewhere between bolting back out of the room and spending 45 minutes under the ice cold water coming out of your shower head, you pulled together a crude course of action. For the duration of your time here, you will do nothing but keep your head down, execute the mission, and be the Navy's perfect little flying angel. Somewhere between the lines of the damp post-it note you jotted this down on are the words "and no more attempts at reconnecting with the people you left in the past.". though even you know that even your best attempt at following that step will wind up unavailing at best. Post shower and with a slight semblance of a plan in place, you were already starting to feel like yourself again. Like every other mission, your ability to execute the plan would make or break you, and If the secrecy surrounding why exactly you were called back to Top Gun was anything to go off of you would have to be entirely focused and at your most cutthroat.

Exiting your room, you made your way to the front door where you quickly pulled on your boots and grabbed your keys from the dish in the entryway. The route from your house to the Hard Deck is one that's permanently etched into your mind. This wasn't the time nor the place to be making friends and in all honesty you wanted nothing more than to stay in and order takeout. However, you knew that you needed to scope out your competition as soon as possible.

You check the entryway mirror one last time before turning the knob and passing the threshold. You square your shoulders as you make the short walk to your car while also doing your best to ignore the growing feeling that the first of many wrenches is about to be thrown at your freshly made strategy.

Taglist: @luckyladycreator2, @katesmadness, @natasharomanoffisbaebby, @nobody7102, @idiomaticpunk, @thebeckyjolene, @paintballkid711, @simpledyiing, @barbiewritesstuff, @bbooks-and-teas, @starshipfantasy, @saramaple, @marchingicenotes7, @bayisdying, @princessofglitterland, @katesmadness, @shakira-sasha, @xoxabs88xox, @nyx2021, @qardasngan, @fanboyluvr, @mrsjaderogers, @bellamy1998, @alexxavicry, @madamemelancholysstuff, @autumnleaves1991-reads, @dozcan123, @nani-kenobi, @noxytopy, @accio-boys, @the-winter-marvel33, @justameresimp, @abaker74, @starlightmoon2020, @comfortzonequeen, @flrboyd, @heyitskay-21, @kmc1989, @kkrenae (let me know if you'd like to be added!)

[nonranghaes]

tw: (loose?) depictions of a panic attack.

jihoon’s fingertip traces over the lines of your open palm. it’s soothing, in a weird way, and while he doesn’t fully understand it, he knows it helps you sometimes. tracing shapes onto your skin, or following your love line until he’s etched it into his own memory: touch, to put it simply, grounds you when you’re upset. its probably weird to see from an outsider’s perspective: you, sitting next to him on your shared couch, just staring blankly past the television screen and into infinity, while he holds your hand and traces the lines of you palm while your other hand is gripping the edge of the couch for dear life.

inhale. hold. exhale. hold. jihoon watches from beside you. he catches himself doing it, too, and he knows he must have started after turning off the television. he doesn’t even remember what was on that hit that little button in your brain and flipped the switch to panic mode. but he did see the way you tensed up, the way you started looking for a way out, and he had given you one. a pause, and then the flicker of the tv screen turning off as you hold everything inside and try to breathe through it.

he’s not always the most physically affectionate. but he brings your hand up so that he can press a kiss against your palm before he looks back up at your face. “i’m here,” he says quietly, just as a reminder.

and when you move, he embraces you with open arms, letting you bury your face into his shoulder while you hold onto his shirt tightly. all he can do is trace circles onto your back.

“it’s okay. i love you. you can let it out.”

and when you do, he can feel you exhale first before it all breaks: that sigh of relief that you are safe and he has you. so he holds you, and lets you cry for as long as you need him to. that’s all he can do now, but that’s all you need from him: a safe place to express what you need to. all he can do is hold you, and that is okay.