#her front legs are up on something and she’s leaning up with the rest of her legs on the ground

[sunni-stuff]

Soap’s eyebrows lifted with a curious glint in his eye as he looked from you to Adira, a playful grin edging onto his face. He leaned in, never one to miss a chance at a bit of friendly prodding.

“So… you’re married?” he asked, his tone as light as his smirk.

You laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Haha! No, I’m not.” You gave Adira’s tiny hand a gentle squeeze, glancing down at her with a smile that softened every edge on your face. 

Soap tilted his head, pretending to be shocked. “A bonnie lass like yerself? Unmarried?” he teased, hand on his chest as though it were a crime.

“Guess I’m a rare breed,” you replied with a grin, chuckling as you shifted Adira’s hand in yours.

Soap’s face lit up at your response, as if he’d just been given the most interesting bit of news he’d heard all week. He shot Ghost a quick look, but Ghost was still watching Adira, his gaze softened with something unreadable.

Meanwhile, Gaz wasn't fascinated by Soap's ability to make anyone at ease, the man was a cassanova. Roach watched Adira with curiosity, as though piecing together a puzzle he hadn’t realized existed until now. Price stood off to the side, arms crossed, silently observing the whole scene.

“If you aren’t married, how’d you get this little one?” Soap pushed, grinning as he wiggled a playful finger in Adira’s direction.

Adira’s gaze snapped up from Ghost to the man with the funny hair, her little brow furrowing as she studied Soap with a mix of curiosity and caution. She leaned into your leg, clearly wary, but her attention stayed on the finger waving in front of her.

You chuckled, brushing a hand over Adira’s head to reassure her. “Long story,” you replied, smiling. “Let’s just say she was an unexpected blessing.”

Soap laughed softly, glancing at Ghost with a gleam in his eye. “Ah, aye, life’s full of surprises, eh?” 

Ghost, who had been studying Adira in silence, clenched his jaw, shifting uncomfortably as Soap’s words hit a little too close to home.

“I used to be really wild back in the day,” you admitted with a sheepish grin, a hint of nostalgia coloring your tone as you thought back to those not-so-distant years.

Soap wasn’t quite done yet, though. “Does the father know?” he threw a quick glance at Ghost, who had just risen from his crouched position. A new tension ran through Ghost’s frame, his stance rigid, as if the question had struck something he’d rather not confront.

You hesitated, a shadow crossing your expression before you shook your head. “No, he doesn’t… He, uh, probably has no idea.”

Ghost’s jaw tightened, his gaze flickering from you to Adira, who was absorbed in her drink, unaware of the intensity surrounding her. His shoulders stiffened, and for a split second, he looked as though he wanted to speak—but whatever words he had caught in his throat, locked behind his silence.

"I see, well. I'm sorry if I took up your time, ma’am, you've been a nice chat," Soap said, his voice softening with a touch of politeness, his grin still present but more reserved now.

You nodded, giving Adira’s hand a gentle tug as you continued on your way, the soft crunch of snow beneath your boots the only sound accompanying your steps. The blue sky stretched above, peaceful, serene. As you walked, Adira turned her head, glancing back at Ghost one final time. She refused to let go of her cup, her small fingers gripping it tightly, but she lifted her other hand in a small, hesitant wave. "Bye-bye," she whispered, her voice soft but sweet.

Ghost’s gaze lingered, but he didn’t move. His expression was unreadable, a mixture of things churning behind those eyes. 

Price let out a heavy sigh, crossing his arms and facing Ghost. “So... what’s the plan?” he asked, his tone both blunt and expectant, clearly waiting for some kind of direction. The rest of the team stood in silence, watching the exchange unfold.

Ghost didn’t answer immediately. His gaze remained on you and Adira, watching you both disappear further down the street, the distance growing with each step. The soft crunch of snow under your boots was the only sound in the quiet winter air. He didn’t even notice Price's voice until the man spoke again, closer now, with a slight edge to his tone.

"Ghost, talk to me. What’s the plan here?”

Finally, Ghost shifted, his shoulders tense, his jaw clenched as he turned to face Price. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—something caught between anger, confusion, and a deep, gnawing regret.

"I don't know," he muttered, the words barely escaping his lips. "I wasn't expecting this. Hell, I didn't even know she existed." His voice was low, strained, but there was a quiet honesty to it, as if he was trying to process something that didn’t make sense.

Soap stepped closer, his expression serious for once. "What now, Ghost? We can help. But you need to tell us what's going on."

Ghost finally looked away, his attention drawn to the ground, his fingers twitching like he was trying to find something to hold onto. "I don't even know where to start," he admitted. "All I know is... I saw her. And it hit me like a fucking truck."

Roach, always one to stay in the background, spoke up. “Maybe it’s time to talk to her, yeah? Figure out where to go from here?”

Price’s eyes narrowed, his stern gaze shifting to Ghost, assessing him. “And what exactly do you want from us? You’re in this, whether you like it or not.”

Ghost let out a frustrated breath. “I don’t know,” he repeated, voice hoarse. “But I can’t just let her slip away.”

A silence stretched between them, heavy and thick, as the weight of the situation settled in. Then, slowly, Ghost nodded. “I’ll figure it out. Just… not now. Not here.” His eyes flicked toward the street where you had disappeared, and something in his gaze softened, just for a moment, before the mask fell back into place.

Price gave a single nod. "Alright. But we stick together on this. You’re not doing it alone, Ghost."

The team stood together for a moment longer, the wind howling through the alley, before they slowly began to move, their steps trailing off into the winter evening. The silence that hung between them was thick with uncertainty. No one knew what came next, but they knew one thing for sure: whatever happened, they were in this together.

A month passed, the team giving Ghost the space he needed to process the whirlwind that had hit him. They all knew this was something he had to handle on his own terms, but that didn't mean the questions didn't linger. What did it mean for the future? What did he want? The answers were still unclear, even to Ghost himself.

But Soap, ever the persistent one, wasn’t content to let things sit in limbo. He knew Ghost, knew how his mind worked, and that sometimes the best way to breakthrough was to take small steps. And if that meant subtly nudging you into the picture, then so be it. He’d always been good at this��at slipping in the background, making things happen without anyone noticing.

So, Soap started to "accidentally" run nto you. At the park, when you were out with Adira, he'd make sure to be in the same place at the same time, offering a casual greeting. It always started simple, harmless, with a nod or a small comment about the weather. Then, of course, there was that coffee shop where you'd gone to get hot chocolate for Adira.

The first time he "bumped" into you there, it was nothing more than a quick exchange. A question about the drink, a comment on the cold weather, just the usual small talk. But Johnny's natural charm and ease made you relax, and made the conversation flow without much effort. Over time, those small moments grew. You'd smile when you'd see him, and he'd greet you with the same friendly energy, always leaving you feeling at ease. No pressure, just casual.

And slowly, ever so slowly, Johnny began to warm you up to the idea of him. It wasn't much at first—a smile here, a shared laugh there—but he knew what he was doing. He wasn't pushing, just letting the connection build at its own pace. The more you saw him, the more comfortable you felt. The more you talked, the more you found yourself enjoying the interactions, even if they were brief.

One evening, Johnny sat beside you on the park bench, casually leaning back as Adira bounced around in the snow, her laughter filling the crisp air. The sound was contagious, and for a moment, you let yourself relax, watching her with a soft smile.

"So, me and a couple friends are meeting up at Leslie's this weekend," Johnny said, his tone light but with a hint of something more. "Would you be interested?"

You snorted, expecting the usual joke or teasing, but when you glanced over at him, his expression was far more serious than you anticipated. For a moment, you considered dismissing it. After all, Leslie's? A pub? That was a far cry from the cozy routine you’d built for yourself with Adira. 

“Seriously?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. "I don't think I fit the scene."

Johnny shrugged nonchalantly, the corner of his mouth lifting in that playful grin of his. “Please. It'll just be like old times.”

Your mind immediately wandered, trying to understand what he meant by that. What was it about old times that Johnny thought might appeal to you? You didn’t exactly have a wild past to cling to. Sure, you’d had your moments, but those felt long behind you now. 

Still, something about the invitation lingered. A night out... maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. You hadn’t done anything for you in a while. And maybe, just maybe, it would be nice to let someone else take care of the night for once. No worrying about Adira, no responsibilities for a few hours. Just some fun, whatever that meant now.

You hesitated, looking down at Adira as she made another snow angel, oblivious to the conversation happening nearby. She’d be fine, right? And you could leave if things felt uncomfortable. 

“Alright,” you finally said, meeting Johnny’s gaze with a reluctant but genuine smile. "I'll join you. But only if it’s not as crazy as you’re making it sound." 

Johnny’s grin widened, and you could tell he was already mentally planning the evening, no doubt with some plan to ease you in without overwhelming you. He stood up, dusting off the snow on his pants as he glanced back at you.

“Deal. I’ll make sure it’s a night to remember.”

You just hoped he wasn’t overselling it.

The weekend seemed to arrive so fast, and here you were, standing outside your apartment, nervously adjusting your blue blouse and jeans. It wasn’t exactly the type of outfit you thought would fit a night out, but it was the best you could do. Most of your wardrobe these days consisted of comfortable clothes, ones that could be easily changed or wiped clean in case Adira had another of her toddler mishaps. Sexy or flirty clothes were a distant memory, tucked away in a drawer somewhere, gathering dust.

Adira stood in the doorway, clutching her little stuffed bear to her chest, eyes wide and brimming with unshed tears. The sight hit you harder than you expected. You knelt down in front of her, your heart sinking at the sight of her teary eyes. “I’ll be back in a couple hours, I promise,” you said, your voice gentle but firm, reaching out to her with a reassuring smile.

Adira sniffled, her tiny hand coming up to rub her eyes, but she didn’t break her stare. You held out your pinky, the gesture as familiar as breathing. Slowly, she reached out, her small finger wrapping around yours with the same trust she always had. The connection was brief, but it felt like a promise, one that you hoped would calm her.

"I won't be out long," you said softly to the friend you’d left with her. "And you, be good for Auntie too." The last part was directed at Adira, though the words felt bittersweet on your tongue.

Adira nodded, but her face still held that sadness, that uncertainty of what the night would bring without you. 

Standing up, you ruffled her hair and offered a small, hopeful smile. “I’ll be back before you know it. Just a little fun for Mama, okay?”

Her small nod didn’t do much to ease the tightness in your chest, but you turned and gave her one last look before stepping outside. The cool evening air wrapped around you, a contrast to the warmth of the apartment behind you, but you pushed the feeling away. Tonight was for you, however strange that sounded. 

As you locked the door behind you, you felt a flutter of nerves in your stomach. This wasn’t just any night out. It was a night with Johnny, with his friends, with the possibility of reconnecting to parts of yourself you’d set aside for so long.

As you arrived outside the establishment, the familiar hum of chatter and music filled the night air, but what caught your attention first was Johnny standing outside, leaning against the brick wall, checking his watch. The moment his eyes met yours, they lit up, his expression shifting from casual to something almost... eager. 

“Well, well, look at you,” he said with that trademark wink of his, his gaze raking over you with a genuine appreciation that made you feel suddenly self-conscious. “You clean up well.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at your lips. It was hard to resist the easy charm of Johnny.

“Let’s just hope I survive this night,” you muttered, though the words were more for yourself than him. You weren’t sure what to expect tonight, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that things might not go as smoothly as Johnny seemed to think.

Johnny chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring. “I’m sure you will. Now, let’s get going before I change my mind.”

With that, you fell into step beside him, the weight of your hand at your side suddenly feeling strange in the cool night air. He led you toward the door, and as you entered the dimly lit space of the bar, your eyes scanned the room. 

It was bustling, a mix of regulars and newcomers, all seeking solace or company for the night. It smelled of beer, whiskey, and the faintest hint of fried food, a familiar and welcoming kind of atmosphere. But as soon as you stepped inside, your nerves shot back up again. You tried not to let the nerves show, but they were there, itching under your skin.

What you didn’t notice, as you made your way to the bar, was the group inside. Ghost, Price, Gaz, Roach—quietly observing, waiting for their chance to either speak to you or simply let you slip through their fingers once more. Ghost’s eyes tracked you the moment you stepped inside, and there was a hesitation in his gaze, something raw and almost pained that flickered in and out. 

For a moment, Ghost didn’t move, didn’t speak. He simply watched you, aware that the moment he’d been dreading—he had finally stumbled into. Your gaze met his across the room, the flicker of recognition passing between you both. But that was it. You didn’t remember. You didn’t know him. You didn’t know what he was to you.

Approaching the bar, you saw that Johnny was already leaning in, chatting with the bartender, exchanging friendly banter. You barely heard the words, only caught up in the feeling that something was different. Something you couldn’t quite place. You glanced back at the table where those men sat. They weren’t talking, but their eyes were all trained on you, as if waiting for something to happen.

Your heart raced without explanation. Ghost’s eyes—those eyes—stayed locked on you. He didn’t know how to approach, how to change what had already seemingly been set in stone. What was he supposed to say? What was the plan now that you were here, so close? God, why the fuck did johnny do this.

Johnny leaned toward you again, a soft smile curling his lips. “You good, love?” he asked, his voice pulling you back to the present.

“Yeah,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. You forced a smile, trying to ignore the uneasy tension brewing in your chest. “Just... getting used to being out.”

Johnny winked again, oblivious to the chaos of emotions swirling within you. “It’s all good. Let’s have some fun tonight, yeah?”

Ghost’s fist clenched involuntarily under the table. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this distance, this silent acknowledgment of his role, or how long he could ignore what it meant to see you here now. 

“You’ll fit right in,” Johnny said, though there was a hint of something deeper behind his words. “Just a bunch of mates enjoying a drink, nothing crazy.” Johnny leads you over to the table, you expected to be met with… well you didn't quite know what.  

Price leaned back in his seat, cigar in hand, a soft smile on his weathered face as he regarded you with a raised brow. “Didn’t think you’d actually show up.”

"Neither did I," you muttered under your breath, forcing a smile and doing your best to ignore the gnawing feeling that lingered when you looked at him. You hadn’t quite expected this part of the evening.

“I’m just here for a drink, nothing more,” you said, looking over at Johnny was getting comfortable in his chair.

“Well, pull up a seat, love,” Price said, motioning to the empty spot next to him. “We’re all friends here.”

You hesitated but made your way over, perching yourself on the seat next to him. The sound of the glass being slid toward you, the clink of ice against glass, broke through the chatter around you. Your nerves buzzed as you focused on the drink in front of you, trying to ignore the sudden realization of just how different this was from the quiet, routine life you had at home with Adira.

“Enjoy yourself,” Price said with an air of casual amusement, leaning back in his chair. “This is all new for you, isn’t it?”

You raised an eyebrow, not wanting to admit just how out of place you felt in the moment. Instead, you took a sip of your drink, the burn of whiskey warming you from the inside out.

You laugh lightly, a bit awkwardly, trying to shake off the nerves that gnawed at you. "Yeah, this all a bit... newish. I haven't been out like this in years honestly," you admit, taking a deep breath and glancing around the bar. The warmth of the space was a welcome contrast to the chill outside, but the sight of the men made you feel more like a fish out of water than ever.

Johnny claps you on the back with an easy grin, clearly trying to make you feel more comfortable. “These are my mates. Price, Kyle, Gary, and Simon," he introduces with a flourish, motioning to each man in turn. 

You give them all a polite smile, not quite sure what to make of them just yet. There was something about the way they carried themselves, all standing a little apart from the crowd, that made it clear they were more than just regulars at the pub. But you didn’t have time to focus too much on that right now. You were trying to just survive the night.

Price, who looked a bit older than the rest, nods at you, his gaze thoughtful, almost cautious. “Nice to meet you,” he says in a tone that is polite but distant, as though he’s waiting for something, some sign.

Kyle, as Johnny had called him—gives you a friendly nod, a playful glint in his eyes, but there's a strange sharpness to his look that you can’t quite place. “Pleasure," he says, offering you a tight smile.

Gary simply gives you a quick but sincere nod. His eyes linger on you just long enough for you to catch a flicker of interest before he looks away.

And then there’s Simon. His presence, as always, is quieter, more intense. He’s sitting in the middle, arms crossed, his gaze fixed directly on you. You can feel the weight of it, though. It’s impossible not to. There was something you couldn't place with him though you couldn’t see too well under the dim light.

You try to shake off the unease creeping up your spine. “Nice to meet you all," you reply, your voice warmer than you feel. 

Johnny, oblivious to the awkwardness in the air, slaps the bar and gives a nod. “Alright, drinks all around, yeah? Let’s get this party started!” he declares, pulling the group into the rhythm of the night.

As the revelry began your stomach churns slightly, a sense of unease still lingering despite the distraction. You knew something was off, something you couldn’t quite put into words. It wasn’t just the men—it was the way Simon’s gaze lingered on you, the way he looked at you as if he were waiting for something. It unsettled you, but you couldn’t figure out why.

Johnny, seemingly oblivious to your tension, slides a drink toward you. “First round’s on me," he grins, the clink of glass against the table snapping you back to the present. "Here’s to a good night.”.

You took a deep breath, swallowing down the nerves that still clung to you. This was supposed to be a night out, after all. A chance to shake off the past, to let loose just a little. You couldn’t let the weight of everything pull you under before you even tried. What would be the point if you didn’t at least try and enjoy yourself?

Shaking the tension from your shoulders, you took a sip of your drink, the burn of alcohol easing the knot in your stomach just slightly. The guys were chatting among themselves, Johnny’s laughter cutting through the low hum of the bar as he joked with Kyle. Price was listening intently, nodding along while Gary seemed content to let the others talk, his eyes occasionally flicking to you, though his gaze didn’t linger long.

And then there was Simon.

His presence loomed even when he wasn’t speaking, his broad frame leaning against the bar just slightly, face half hidden by the shadows. You caught his eyes for a split second, the intensity of his stare making your pulse hitch. You quickly looked away, focusing on your drink, your nerves creeping back up despite the effort to push them aside.

You could feel his gaze on you, though, like a weight pressing against your back. You tried not to let it show, tried not to acknowledge how his proximity seemed to pull at something inside you, but it was impossible to ignore. There was a pull, something in the air, but you couldn’t quite grasp it.

Sighing inwardly, you turned your attention back to the others. Just enjoy yourself, you remind yourself again. Don’t think about him. Don’t think about any of it.

Johnny clinked his glass against yours, a grin on his face. “Here’s to not letting the night pass us by,” he said with a wink, and you couldn’t help but smile back, lifting your glass.

“Cheers,” you said, the warmth of the alcohol giving you just the nudge you needed to ease into the evening. For now, you’d ignore the tight feeling in your chest. You’d enjoy yourself. 

But the eyes that lingered on you would remain, whether you were ready for them or not.

You pushed your chair back with more force than necessary, the scrape of it against the floor loud in the otherwise quiet bar. The conversation still echoed in your ears, but your focus had been on the man, Simon, for the past half hour. His silence had become suffocating, every glance he cast in your direction feeling like it held some hidden meaning. You couldn't quite place it, but something was off about him. His eyes, cold and intense, had followed you too much, made you second guess every word you’d said.

"Im... gonna go powder my nose," you muttered, more to fill the silence than anything else. You didn’t wait for a response, the words barely out of your mouth before you were already making your way across the room, past the low hum of idle chatter and the clink of glasses.

While you were in the bathroom, the entire team turned their attention towards Ghost, each of them sizing him up, starting with Soap.

"What is wrong with you?" Soap asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and amusement.

"What?" Simon blinked, genuinely confused.

"Mate, you've been gawking at her all night," Gaz added, raising an eyebrow, his voice teasing but laced with concern.

"Shit. Are you serious?" Simon muttered, running a hand through his hair, but his gaze didn't stray far from where you had just disappeared.

Roach, leaning back casually with his drink in hand, nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, it's like you’ve been stuck in a staring contest with her since she walked in."

Price, who had been watching quietly, shook his head with a resigned sigh. He snuffed out his cigar in the nearby ashtray, eyes narrowing as he met Simon's gaze. "If you scared her off, I doubt you’ll get another chance, lad."

Simon’s jaw clenched. He hadn’t realized how obvious it had been, but now that the team was calling him out on it, he felt the heat rise in his chest. He hadn’t meant to make you uncomfortable, but the pull to look at you, to remember what had sparked your connection all those years ago had been almost magnetic.

“Alright, alright,” Soap teased, leaning in, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Just don't burn a hole in her head.”

“Shut up,” Simon muttered, his mind racing, trying to figure out how to fix this without making things worse.

Price shared a look with the rest of the team, a silent understanding passing between them. While Soap might have been the one to set this whole thing in motion, it didn't mean the others didn't have contingencies in place. 

Soap got up first, stretching a bit. “Gonna make sure no one's tried to get in my car,” he said with a casual tone.

“I’ll come with you,” Gaz chimed in, already pushing himself up from his seat and following Soap toward the door.

A minute later, Roach also stood, excusing himself without a word, and then Price followed suit, his movements deliberate. “I’m gonna make sure they’re not up to anything,” he said with a knowing glance.

With everyone out of the immediate area, the bar suddenly felt quieter, and the tension in the air seemed to thicken. It took Ghost only a second for it all to click—he had been set up. Without thinking, he bolted from his seat, rushing outside just in time to catch the taillights of Soap's car disappearing down the street.

He cursed under his breath, but before he could make another move, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling it out, he glanced at the screen. There, in simple words from Price: 

“Good luck.”

Ghost stood still for a moment, phone in hand, as the weight of the situation hit him. His heart thudded in his chest. This was it. There was no turning back now.

By the time you returned to the table, you felt a bit more at ease. The night out wasn’t all that bad… it was just that Johnny had some weird taste in friends. Well, mostly the tall one. You couldn’t help but notice how everyone seemed to have left, a pit forming in your stomach at the thought of being ditched.

You let out a quiet sigh, about to gather your things and head out when your phone lit up in your purse. Pulling it out, you saw a text from Johnny. 

"Emergency, looks like one of the beers wasn't that good, poor Kyle threw up."

You paused, reading the message again, a small smile tugging at your lips. Aww… nevermind. At least they hadn’t forgotten about you after all. 

"Hope he's okay." You replied quickly, grabbing the straps of your bag when suddenly a hand landed on top of yours.

You looked up, meeting the intense gaze of Simon. Seriously? You couldn’t help but think. They took everyone but this guy?

You forced a smile, trying to pull your hand away, but Simon’s grip was firm, not unkind. “Look, I had a decent time, but I have to go—”

“Just a minute,” he interrupted, his voice low, steady, almost pleading. There was something about the way he said it that made you pause, something different than the usual small talk.

"Fine." The word slipped out before you could process it, and you cursed yourself inwardly. Really? You just agreed to stay with the guy who hadn’t stopped staring since you met him. You sat back down, and he mirrored you, settling across the table. 

Silence stretched between you, his intense gaze unwavering. He didn’t so much as blink, and you couldn’t help but feel more unsettled by the second.

What the hell is his deal?

“Look, if you're just going to be a creep, I don't think I want to mee—"

“Do you remember Armed Forces Day?” His voice cut through your words, quiet but resolute.

Okay, this took all day, I wanted to give you all something long to read incase I disappear for finals (which I might)

Reblogs appreciated!!!

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WOWWW LOOK AT ALL THESE NAMES. Thank you all so much for the support!! Im sorry if i missed any, I will update if I noticed any missing or comment on those who's tags didnt go through!

[paarksunghoon]

https://x.com/venusyearwood/status/1854732444768858540?s=46&t=NrxIrEbb07Ubj-rzdh7oCg THIS WITH JAY — im thinking softdom!jay, lots and lots of flirting and being handsy and making out, reader is on jay’s lap he’s buried in her neck leaving marks and she’s starting to unbutton his shirt and unconsciously grinding her hips, he can’t take it anymore and drags her home and breeds her all night

oh you’re speaking my language…I pictured a cocktail bar for this

***

It’s not that anyone is really paying attention to either of you in this place anyway. Jay’s got a hold on your thigh while the rest of your friends chatter amongst themselves with enough alcohol in their systems to forget their surroundings and anything but the conversation at hand.

It’s the first time in a long time that he’s got you like this—away from the stress of life and the hustle of working hours. He knows far too well what it means to be preoccupied with things that don’t matter and seeing you in a little black dress and those high heels you love wearing so much makes him hold onto you that much tighter.

He’s got his thumb rubbing against the skin of your thigh the entire night but it does nothing to quell the building arousal you feel as you pulsate beside him. You don’t even know if Jay is doing it on purpose but it garners a reaction out of you, and you find that you’re barely able to hold onto the cocktail glass as you listen to your friends talk and chime in every once in a while. Jay’s touch is enough to get you to a sensation that feels an awful lot like being drunk even if you aren’t.

“Having fun?” Jay whispers in your ear. You love when he leans his head down to whisper in your ear. It makes you feel like you’re the only person he sees.

“Yeah. I really missed going to places like these.”

“You look beautiful too, baby.” Jay squeezes your thigh and hums. “That dress…you look phenomenal.”

The heat from his compliment and alcohol makes your cheeks flush. You stutter when you respond to him. “Thank you.” He laughs under his breath and squeezes your thigh, hand lodged between them as if to keep you sitting right next to him. Not that you’d want to be anywhere else anyway. You squeeze him with your thigh subconsciously when his warm breath ghosts the shell of your ear.

Jay seems to like that. He squeezes you back. “Are you doing okay, baby?”

You nod. “Mhm. Just fine.”

“Really? You seem a little tense.”

“N-No. Not tense. I’m fine.”

He squeezes your thigh again. “Needy little thing.” Jay pushes his hand up your legs until you spread them far enough to seem inconspicuous. The tips of his fingers touch you where you need him the most and he bites back a moan when he feels just how wet you are. “Knew it.”

“Jay! Our friends are right in front of us.”

He doesn’t stop sliding his fingers against your covered folds. “And? They’re too busy paying attention to each other.” You clamp your legs shut and Jay nods, scouring the room until he finds a secluded, dark area with a partition that separates from the main room.

Jay stands up and holds his hand out for you. His muscular arm is concealed by the button down he wears and yet his muscles almost stretch the fabric until it’s taught. Your own arms cling onto his as you follow him through the maze of people and when you look back to your friends, they haven’t noticed you two have gone missing.

The partition hides away a single drink tray on top of a metal table opposite of a wooden bench. It’s secluded enough for your satisfaction and Jay turns around once the two of you are out of sight and cups your jaw with his hands when he kisses you like you’re a delicate glass he doesn’t want to break. His lips are so soft and plump and the way he’s rubbing your cheeks with his thumb makes you feel something akin to being on cloud nine. It doesn’t help that he looks like the pinnacle of sex once he pulls away, eyes looking down at you through his long lashes as he paces himself.

He sits down on the bench and beckons you over his lap. You don’t particular care that your dress has ridden up your body and pools midway up your ass. His large hands come to grip you from behind as you make yourself comfortable on him.

“Pretty baby,” he whispers in your ear as he peppers kisses down the column of your neck. The sensation makes your toes curl and you clutch at his chest for support. “I missed you this week. Felt like an eternity.”

“I-I missed you too.” You breathe it out much like a quiet moan. “Missed your lips.”

“Yeah?” Jay licks up your juncture before sucking on your jawline where it meets your earlobe. “What else did you miss?”

Your hands spread all across his chest and the hard muscle underneath makes you much wetter than you already are. The gentle touch of your fingers against his buttons makes him look up at you from where he is on your neck. He’s already got a few buttons undone but you’re craving to see more of him and unbutton another.

“Missed your body…”

Jay spreads his legs wider when he starts to feel your hips rolling against his slacks. You move so slowly that he doesn’t think you register what you’re doing, but the way your fingers spread open his button down makes him think you want more than he’s offering right now.

“Oh yeah? What part of my body.”

“Mouth, fingers, cock…”

You don’t look at him when you say it. You stare at his semi-exposed chest and continue to grind up against him. He’s so hard in his pants that he involuntarily pushes his hips up against you.

“I can tell.” Jay brings his hand to brush your bottom lip with his thumb and cradles your cheek when you finally look at him. “You’re so cute when you get needy.”

You push your covered lap down on his. “I can’t help it. You look so good tonight and I’m having a hard time keeping my hands to myself.”

“You’re one to talk, baby.”

In an abrupt motion, Jay hoists you off of his body and pulls the hem of your dress down to appear decent and does his best to adjust his aching dick to look presentable. You whine beside him but Jay merely grips your ass as he silences to with a kiss.

“Be good for me, yeah?”

“But I need you.”

“I need you too, baby. Let me take you home. I’ll come inside you as many times as you want.”

[eddiazx]

benefit part 2 - evan buckley x reader

part 1 here!

Buck wakes up with his nose pressed against your hair. You’ve slept at Buck’s multiple times, even shared beds once or twice, but he never realized just how clingy you are in your sleep. Half your body is on top of his: your head is tucked underneath his chin, your arm is splayed out over his bare torso, and your right leg is hooked over his left thigh, knee brushing up against his morning wood.

Buck likes this. The domesticity, the smell of you, your warmth; Buck could get used to waking up this way all the time.

Except, he thinks soberly, that’s not what the two of you had agreed on. This was supposed to be just sex. But Buck has come to the belated realization that it could never be just anything with you.

“Buck? You awake yet?”, Eddie’s voice comes ringing through the loft from his front door. Buck’s eyes widen; he had completely forgotten that he made plans to get breakfast with him that morning. He looks at you, who had woken up to the sound. With an impressive quickness, you roll off and drop down soundlessly to hide under the bed in all your naked glory. Buck would have busted out laughing if he wasn’t so scared that Eddie was going to catch the two of you together. Neither of you would hear the end of it if the rest of the team found out about your little arrangement.

Eddie makes his way up the loft stairs and gives Buck an unimpressed look over at his sleepy, shirtless form. Buck had had the sense to throw the covers over his legs to avoid flashing Eddie.

“Hey Eds”, Buck smiles weakly.

“Morning, sleeping beauty. You able to get ready in 5, at least? I’m craving that breakfast burrito from Joe’s.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah. Just…go watch TV and I’ll be ready in a bit.” Buck says, desperately hoping Eddie doesn’t look too closely at the fact that your bra was on the floor in the corner of the room.

Eddie nods, before saying, “Maybe we can text Y/N if she wants to join us too.”

Buck lets out a startled cough at your name, but Eddie already has his back to him, walking down the stairs. A few moments pass until Buck hears the sounds of Brooklyn 99 playing downstairs.

Buck leans over and peers down at you. You have an amused smile on your face, but Buck can’t help but mouth, “you okay?”

You nod, and give him a thumbs up. You gesture at your phone, which Buck hands over to you. He watches as you open up your notes app and type out 'go grab breakfast, I’ll let myself out and lock the door' before showing him the text.

Buck nods and walks to the bathroom, all the while wondering what the heck he got himself into.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Eddie is talking about a project Chris has for his history class while chewing on his burrito. Buck is trying really hard to pay attention, but his brain keeps providing him with unhelpful flashes of last night. He thinks he might be hallucinating, because he can even picture you sitting down in front of him.

Wait, that’s not a hallucination, you were actually here.

“Hi guys”, you smile, swiping a potato off of Eddie’s plate and popping it into your mouth, eyes sparkly and beautiful as usual. Buck is again met with a memory of last night, when you put something of his in your mouth.

Buck shakes his head, as if he can physically clear his mind from the memory. “Uh, what’re you doing here?”

“I knew you would forget so I sent her a text to join us while you were getting ready.” Eddie responds for you.

"Right, yeah." Buck nods quickly.

Eddie and you exchange glances. Buck was acting weird, weirder than normal.

While you order and promptly delve into a conversation with Eddie, Buck considers moving to another firehouse, one where he didn't have to see and work with his best friend that he was hopelessly in love with.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

"Hen, can I talk to you?", Buck stammers, when they're the only two seated at the firehouse dinner table one evening.

"Sure, what's up?" Hen asks, closing the textbook she was reading.

"I... I think I have feelings for Y/N." Buck admits.

Hen continues to stare at Buck expectantly, not a single difference showing in her face after Buck's admission. "Wait, that's it? That's not news to anybody, Buck."

Buck blinks at Hen. "What?"

"Buck, you've been gone for her since she started at the 118. You've had permanent heart eyes for that girl."

"No... we're friends! Best friends!"

Hen shoots Buck a patient look. "Chim and I are best friends, Buck. You and Y/N are in a different category entirely."

"Okay, fine, whatever. It's bad, Hen. We started sleeping with each other last week and -"

"What?!"

"She's so smart and beautiful Hen, and she makes the hottest sounds when-"

"Okay, ew."

"But she doesn't want to be in a relationship and I don't know how to act around her now that I know I have feelings for her and-"

"Alright Buck, breathe." Hen motions for Buck to inhale and exhale with her hands. Hen seems thoughtful for a second, before she asks, "how do you know she doesn't want to be in a relationship?"

"I don't think a relationship was what she had in mind. She suggested we have sex casually; that it wouldn't be weird 'cause we're friends."

"That... was a horrible idea."

Buck groans and puts his head in his hands. "Well, I know that now!"

Hen smiles softly, prying Buck's hands away to hold onto them. "Buck, we all knew that you were in love with her, but she looks at you the same way. I think you guys should talk to each other. You guys might be on the same page."

Buck looks at Hen's earnest, honest face. He wasn't entirely convinced, but he knows that he couldn't keep avoiding you or clamming up the way he did at breakfast. He needed to come clean.

And then promptly move.

[veronicaphoenix]

the unmaking of a warrior | epilogue pt. 2

word count: 10k | reading time: 40mins. aprox. | series masterpost | my works ✨

Tags & trigger warnings: this takes place 2 years after the events that took place in epilogue part 1. Established relationship, dad!noah, angst, fluff, pregnancy, birth giving (flashback), mentions/descriptions of blood, sexual innuendos regarding bondage/rope play, skinny dipping, sexual content including oral sex (fem. rec.), p. in v. unprotected, creampie). Fluff, fluff, and a lot of fluff because dad!noah dad!noah dad!noah 🥹 can't get enough of him. I've wanted to write dad!noah for ages and he's finally here. And again, I've never given birth, i've never been pregnant, so excuse my lack of accuracy on that matter. If there's anything I've missed, please let me know. x

Nearly two years later

Winter had lingered longer than usual, but at last, spring had arrived, bringing with it a burst of color and warmth. The sun was gentle, neither too hot nor too faint, while a soft breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers.

As soon as the weather brightened, Noah and I began spending more time outdoors—whether it was venturing deep into the valley, lounging by the river’s edge, or simply relaxing in our garden.

This morning, I sat on a blanket spread across the grass in the front yard, with Trouble resting behind me. Her large, furry body made for a perfect backrest as I watched Levi carefully pick flowers and place them all over Trouble’s fur. At first, Trouble lay still, tolerating Levi’s enthusiastic flower-decorating, but as the pile of blooms grew, she huffed in mild protest. Once, she even let out a low growl, and I gently reminded her that he was just a baby, before telling Levi to give her a little break.

“But she looks so pretty!” he insisted, his version of “pretty” sounding more like “piuti”.

“She’s already got enough flowers on her,” I said. “Why don’t you put some on Mommy instead?”

“Yes!” he shouted, delighted by the idea. He wobbled over to me on unsteady legs, and began placing the flowers carefully on my hair. 

His shoulder-length brown hair, which we had only trimmed a couple of times since he was born, had been neatly tied up in a bun earlier that morning. But after hours of running and playing a few soft strands had escaped and now hung loosely, framing his sun-kissed face. He looked so much like Noah.

When one of the flowers fell into my lap, I picked it up and held it out to him. 

“Do you know what this one is called?”

He took a quick glance and shook his head before resuming his task of adorning my hair.

“It’s a daisy,” I told him.

“Daisy,” he repeated slowly. 

I reached for the basket sitting nearby, filled with a mix of toys and snacks. Levi’s attention was quickly diverted when I picked a box that contained fresh strawberries cut into tiny pieces. Their sweet fragance filled the air when I removed the lid. I picked one out and held it out to him.

“Strawberry?” he asked, his eyes wide with excitement.

“Strawberry,” I confirmed, smiling. I brought the fruit to his mouth, and he took a small, eager bite, juice dribbling down his chin. I wiped it away with my thumb. “One more?” I offered, holding up another.

He nodded, this time more vigorously as he leaned in for a second bite, his tiny hands grabbing at mine to get the strawberry faster into his mouth.

With a full mouth, he mumbled something incoherent, his eyes darting to the basket, no doubt looking for more treats. I reached inside and handed him one of his toys. He eagerly accepted a wooden cart and started to roll it back and forth over my legs. At least that was better than him rolling it on Trouble’s fur and igniting her fury. 

I spotted movement on the path leading from the village. A tall and slender figure made itself visible as it approached us, and that familiar flutter in my stomach came back. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of my husband. 

Noah was walking toward us. He looked so effortlessly striking wearing all black, his katana at his side and a radiant smile meant just for us. His hair, tied back in a loose bun, was longer than it’d ever been, and one loose strand was swaying gently with the breeze. 

He wasn’t alone.

Nestled against his hip was Sakura, one of her small hands on his shoulder, grapping tightly at his clothing. Though she was Levi’s twin and nearly two, she couldn’t yet walk, but that didn’t slow her down—she was happy to crawl everywhere. Her brown hair was tied up in a tiny bun to match her Papa’s, and it gave her an air of determination and pride. She loved mimicking him in everything. She was a courageous and bold little one, just like Levi.

“Look who’s coming,” I said to Levi, drawing his attention toward the path.

Levi’s eyes widened, and a grin spread across his face as he spotted Noah and his sister. 

“Papa!” he called out, his small body bouncing with excitement. He started to run toward his father but stopped when I pulled him back toward the blanket, keeping him close.

As Noah reached us, he bent down just as Sakura squirmed in his arms, extending her body and arms toward me. I scooped her up, cradling her close and planting a kiss on her cheek, her little nuzzle against my chest filling my heart.

With his arms now free, Noah crouched lower and scratched Trouble’s fur. 

“What happened to you?” He teased. “You look more colorful than usual.”

Trouble huffed, but as soon as Noah was laughing, she lifted her head to lick his hand. Noah smiled, rubbing her head before turning his focus to Levi.

“Hey, little warrior,” he said warmly. “How you doing?” He swept Levi up with ease and tossed him into the air, eliciting shrieks of joy. Levi giggled uncontrollably, his laughter filling the air as Noah caught him and repeated the throw.

Once Levi settled, he pointed excitedly at Trouble, his eyes sparkling. 

“Look, Papa! I put flowers on her.”

“I saw it. That’s a ton of flowers.”

Levi beamed proudly, then, as if remembering something important, pointed to me. 

“I put flowers on Mommy, too!”

Noah’s eyes shifted, softening as they landed on me. I was holding Sakura in my arms, who was eagerly nibbling on a piece of strawberry now. Our gazes met, and in that moment, for just a couple of seconds, everything else faded. The warmth in Noah’s eyes was as if it had just struck him again how lucky he was to have me by his side, as his wife. His gaze held mine, filled with both admiration and love, and I felt the familiar heat rise to my cheeks.

“She looks soooo priti!” Levi shouted, his voice high with excitement.

Noah’s lips parted.

“Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

His words sent a rush of warmth through me, and despite all the years we’d spent together, I still found myself flushing under his brown eyes. 

But the spell was broken by Sakura’s small voice. She raised her hand and waved it, her tiny fingers catching Noah’s attention. 

“Me?!”

Noah sat down beside me on the blanket, letting Levi wander off to pick more flowers.

“You,” Noah began, poking her cheek, “are the prettiest babygirl I’ve ever seen.”

Content, Sakura gave him one satisfied smile, a bit shy at her Papa’s compliment as her cheeks tinted pink and she defleated in my lap. 

Noah laughed. I would never get tired of the way he smiled at our children—of the joy they brought him.

A couple of minutes later, distracted by her brother’s doings, Sakura crawled out of my arms and followed Levi, and Noah and I both watched our twins explore their little world. 

“Was she okay?” I asked Noah without taking my eyes of the children. 

“She was as good as ever,” he told me. “Sat still on her spot during most of the training session, clapping everytime someone lifted their sword. Pretty sure she’s ready for a nap now.”

Seeing her playing lively with Levi raised some doubts. 

When I turned to look at Noah, I caught him staring intently at me. A second after, he was leaning over me, tucking some hairs behind my ear and kissing the corner of my mouth. 

“You look beautiful today,” he whispered.

“You said that yesterday,” I retorted, but the grin spread through my face nonetheless. 

Noah shrugged, still leaning to me. 

“I am merely stating facts.” 

I tsked my tongue and placed a hand on Noah’s jaw to bring him to me and kiss him on the lips. Right as I was doing so, we heard a yelp. 

Sakura, who had been crawling with purpose, always trying to catch up with her more mobile brother, had stopped by a bush. With her tiny hands she had tried to reach up for a flower perched higher than she could comfortably grasp. And as she tried to stand on wobbling legs, she toppled over, a small gasp escaping her as she fell back onto the grass.

Noah was up in an instant, rushing to her side before I could even react, his speed startling in its swiftness. Levi stopped what he was doing to look between his baby sister and his father with wide eyes,

I exhaled, seeing Noah scoop Sakura up into his arms, checking her. She wasn’t hurt, just surprised. I watched Noah’s face contorn in concern, and I was suddenly thrown back in time, to the day the twins were born.

We hadn’t known I was carrying two babies. After I had given birth to Sakura earlier than expected, we thought the ordeal was over. I had been sore, exhausted, and overwhelmed with joy as I held our daughter in our arms and then when I passed her to Noah. But before I could relish much in the moment, my screams pierced through the room, Sakura had been taken out from Noah’s arms, and he’d been ushered out.

To this day, it was still the worst and best day of Noah’s life. 

He thought he was going to lose me, unaware that the pain that was seizing me had to do with the fact that there was still another baby inside me, desperate to come into the world. Levi had been bigger than Sakura from birth. Noah held this belief that he’d been taking care of his sister inside my womb and he had been a gentleman and let her out first. However, the contractions that came with him were at full force. The surprise and intensity of it all left me feeling drained, my body struggling to cope. The second birth had been arduous, and by the time Levi was born, I was too weak to stay conscious. I had also lost a lot of blood.

After Levi’s birth, Rika had rushed to find Noah. 

“What happened?” Noah had asked, frozen as they placed his babygirl back in his arms, but the familiar cry he heard didn’t come from the baby he was holding. His mind was racing. He looked around. Then, he spotted Milla not too far. She was holding his babygirl. In a heartbeat, the truth hit him. He was holding a boy. There were two babies. Twins. 

His gaze flickered back to me immediately, terrified of what he would see. He spotted me, pale and unmoving on the futon. Panic filled his chest as he stared at the blood beneath me. 

“She is… She’s going to be okay, right?” he asked, because there was no other possible question—or outcome. His voice had barely been steady as he held our son close, unable to tear his eyes from my motionless form.

Rika reassured him. 

“She’s going to be okay. She lost a lot of blood, but she’ll recover. She just needs time. In the meantime, you need to be with your children.”

As she said this, Rika placed Sakura into Noah’s free arm. He stood there, arms full, cradling both babies at once. He looked down at them, their tiny faces nestled against his chest, his long arms able to hold both of them securely. His heart swelled with joy at the sight of his twins—one boy, one girl—but worry gnawed at him because I wasn’t there to share the moment.

Noah carried them over to where I lay, sinking down beside me on the futon. He sat quietly, overwhelmed by this mixture of happiness and fear. Our children drifted into sleep, their little breaths soft and steady. Soon, we were alone. The four of us—my family. 

Hours passed, and eventually, I began to stir. My body ached, and my vision was blurry at first. I blinked, trying to focus, my head heavy on the pillow. The first thing I saw was Noah, sitting by my side, his face drawn with exhaustion and relief. He was whispering softly, his voice low and calming, but it wasn’t until I tilted my head slightly that I realized who he was speaking to.

There, lying beside me on white blankets, were two wide-eyed babies. Both were staring up at their Papa, their small bodies wrapped in soft cloth. The boy yawned, his tiny hands stretching out as he blinked at the world. Sakura’s dark eyes were fixed on Noah’s face, her little fingers twitching as if already reaching for him.

I blinked, disbelief flooding my mind. Two. There were two.

“Noah...?”

He turned to me, relief spreading through him like a soothing balm as he realized I was awake. His smile was tender, and though his words were quiet, the weight of them was heavy with love. 

“We have twins,” he said, as if he still couldn’t quite believe it himself. “We have two of them.”

As Noah sat back down beside me, holding Sakura close, Levi resumed his flower hunt, and I cherished the fact that our children had been born in a safe space where they could explore and grow to be who they wanted to be. Noah’s presence beside me had always felt like an anchor, always there when I needed him, but since he’d become a father, his attention and support had doubled. He caught my eye and smiled, as if reading my thoughts. I smiled back, feeling that familiar tug of affection, the one that never seemed to fade, even after everything we’d been through.

Just as I reached over to brush a stray petal from Levi’s hair, a soft rustling behind us caught our attention and I saw Rika approaching.

Noah stiffened slightly, always on alert. Rika smiled warmly, hands clasped together as she approached the front yard.

“There’s someone here to see you,” she announced. She lingered just long enough for my heart to stutter with curiosity—and a hint of worry. Sensing the suspense, she quickly added, “It’s your grandmother.”

The tension eased from my shoulders. Beside me, Noah chuckled, shaking his head.

“Always keeping us on our toes,” he said with a grin, glancing down at Sakura, who perked up at the mention of a visitor, at the same time as Trouble thumped her tail excitedly. 

Grandma had always been a frequent visitor, long before Noah and I were even married. I’d tried to convince her to move into the Sanctuary, but she loved her little house in the village too much. It wasn’t far, and she promised to visit often—and she did. Her visits had only become more frequent after learning she would soon be a great-grandmother, a title that seemed to fill her with boundless happiness.

Noah stood, settling Sakura back onto the blanket next to me. 

“I’ll go give her a hand,” he offered, knowing Grandma could use the extra support these days, now that she leaned on a walking stick. She’d probably appreciate Noah’s arm to hold onto.

As Noah walked toward the path from the center of the Sanctuary to greet her, I leaned back on my hands, watching him go. He moved with that quiet strength, always so sure of himself, even when the world around us felt uncertain. It was hard to believe how far we’d come since the chaos of the twins’ birth—the exhaustion, the fear, and then the joy that had followed. Now, here we were, with two vibrant, curious children and the life we’d always dreamed of.

Sakura, back to her usual determined self, began to crawl toward Levi, her hands gripping the grass as she tried to keep up with him. Levi, busy with his bouquet of freshly picked flowers, spotted her coming and toddled over to meet her halfway, offering a dandelion he’d plucked from the ground. 

Inside the house, the air was warm and filled with the comforting scent of tea brewing. Noah was in the kitchen, preparing cups for everyone while the children played on the floor. I sat across from my grandmother, listening to her stories, her voice like a soothing melody.

Before long, Sakura set her sights on Noah’s katana, which hung temptingly on its stand by the entrance. Her little body wobbled on all fours as she began her mission and crawled toward it, her eyes gleaming with determination. I watched her from my seat, knowing Noah wouldn’t let her get far. Sakura seemed to sense this as well, for she paused midway and tilted her head to peer toward the open kitchen, where her Papa was busy pouring tea. Cleverly, she veered toward a cabinet, hoping to slip out of his sight. It was a smart tactic, but despite her stealth, the soft patter of her tiny hands and knees on the wooden floor soon caught Noah’s attention. Pausing, he raised his brows at the suspicious sound. The noise came again, like a small animal sneaking through the room, then silence. A grin tugged at Noah’s lips.

Moments later, a tiny hand peeked out from behind a piece of furniture, and Noah stifled a laugh as he resumed his work with the tea. 

Without looking up, he said, “I can see you.”

The instant he spoke, Sakura knew she’d been discovered. Her hands slapped the floor with renewed urgency as she crawled faster. 

Setting down the kettle on the kitchen island, Noah stepped out and scooped her up just before she could make her grand escape. Her little body squirmed in his arms.

“Not so fast,” he teased, tickling her belly.

Sakura’s giggles echoed through the room, filling it with a joyful energy that made all of us smile. Her small hands immediately reached towards his katana again, her fingers curling in the air toward the glimmering handle as she babbled the word: “Kitana, kitana!”

“That’s Papa’s. You’ll have to wait a little longer.”

Noah bounced her in his arms as he carried her back to the living room. 

Grandma, who had been pleasantly observing, had a spark in her wrinkled eyes as she laughed.

“She’s going to learn her way with a katana before she learns to walk, isn’t she?”

I couldn’t say no to that, looking at our daughter, whose fascination with her father’s sword was growing by the day. Noah set Sakura on my lap, her tiny hands still making grabby motions toward the weapon in the distance. She was relentless.

“She’s got a strong will, that’s for sure,” Noah said, watching her as she tried to wiggle free from my grasp to make another attempt for the katana. “Just like her Mama,” Noah added, casting me a glance before heading back to the kitchen to retrieve the tray with tea and snacks. 

“With a father like you, it’s no wonder she’s drawn to swords,” I teased back. 

Noah chuckled and finished preparing the tea, the soft, floral scent of jasmine filling the air as he brought the tray over to the low table in the center of the room. The sliding doors were open, and a breeze swept through the space, carrying with it the scent of the garden and the occasional sound of Trouble chasing chickens outside. 

“Levi, come sit with us and Grandma,” I called softly, watching Levi abandon the block tower he was building. He ran over with his usual burst of energy, his brown hair messy and strands hanging loose from his earlier play. 

Sakura was already seated beside Noah, nestled against big pillows that propped her up comfortably. Her eyes were wide with curiosity as she watched her Papa take a sip from his tea. Noah handed me my cup. He smiled knowingly as he passed a cup to Grandma, then turned his attention to Sakura. 

“You want some?” he asked. Immediately, he dipped his index finger into his cup and offered her a tiny drop.

Sakura leaned forward, her tiny pink lips pursing as she tasted the warm tea from the tip of his finger. Her eyes lit up, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. Of course she loved it—she was my daughter after all. 

Noah glanced at me. 

“Just like her Mama.”

After a while, with Levi nestled between Sakura and me, enjoying some snacks, I kept an eye on them, waiting for any sign they might be ready for a nap. Despite the day’s activities, however, both twins seemed wide awake. As the adults chatted, I didn’t notice when Levi, responding to Sakura’s insistent whispers, dipped his finger into my tea to offer her a few more drops.

It was Noah who caught him. 

With a slight frown, he said, “Levi, stop giving tea to your sister.”

“But she likes it,” Levi replied earnestly.

“You won’t like it when she gets all wired and keeps you up later,” Noah warned gently.

Levi blinked, likely not fully understanding his father’s point, but he obediently wiped his finger on his shirt and muttered a soft, sweet “Papa says no more” to Sakura, who looked at him with hopeful eyes.

A while later, with the twins still wide awake and showing no signs of tiring, Noah decided to take them out to the garden to burn off some energy. 

“Come on, you two, let’s tire you up,” he said with a grin, scooping them up. The twins squealed with delight as he hoisted them up high.

Once they were in the garden, he set each of them on one of his shoulders, holding them steady with his hands.

“Papa! ‘s very high!” Levi exclaimed. 

“This is called weight training,” Noah told them, pretending to strain under their combined weight. Levi and Sakura giggled, clutching his hair for balance as he wobbled dramatically. 

“Hey! Easy on the hair, little minx.” 

He pretended Sakura was about to slip off his shoulder, making her squeal, then shifted his balance as if Levi were the one tipping off the other side. Their peals of laughter echoed across the yard. It was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard—made all the more precious because it was Noah who was causing it.

Noah held them firmly, with the practiced ease of a father—and a Samurai, of course— who would never let them fall. Eventually, he set them down, and the two darted off across the grass. A short while later, Levi discovered a fallen wooden branch, smooth and straight—perfect for his purposes. His small fingers gripped it with a sense of destiny, and he swung it around with wide, serious eyes. 

“Papa!” he called. Then announced proudly, “I Samurai!”

Sakura, his biggest fan, started clapping her hands as she sat on the grass, hair messy and her face alight with admiration for her brother. Noah chuckled, kneeling down beside Levi, his own eyes twinkling.

“Show me your stance, little warrior.”

Levi straightened up, glancing at his father with fierce concentration, and clumsily attempted to imitate Noah’s stance, one foot forward, knees slightly bent. His little face was full of focus as he held the stick in front of him, eyes narrowed. Noah bit back laughter, unable to hide his delight at the sight of his son’s determined expression.

“You look like a real samurai, Levi,” Noah praised, giving him an approving nod. “But remember,” he added, “a samurai must have patience and strength.”

Levi nodded solemnly, gripping his wooden “sword” with purpose. 

“And they look after their baby sisters!”

Noah nodded. “They look after the girls they love,” he corrected. 

Sakura crawled over at full speed to join them bouncing on her hands and knees with enthusiasm. Noah, still kneeling, extended his arm to offer her support in case she wanted to try and stand up. 

From our seats in the living room, Grandma and I watched the scene unfolding in the garden. The sliding doors were open to the porch, and the breeze carried the sounds of Noah’s laughter and the twins’ gleeful squeals inside. We sipped our tea as we observed the little family scene—my little family.

 “Noah is so devoted to the children,” Grandma commented, “and to you. It makes me so happy to see this man so committed to his family.”

“I can only imagine how devoted he’ll be when there’s three of them,” I said, almost absently.

Grandma turned to me, her eyes widening in surprise. 

“Three? What do you—?”

I gently placed a hand over my stomach. 

“I think there’s a third one on the way,” I whispered.

“Oh, darling!” she exclaimed, immediately wrapping me in her arms. I hugged her back, feeling her love and excitement surround me. As I glanced over her shoulder, I caught sight of Noah looking toward me from the garden, a quizzical expression on his face. I waved him off with a quick shake of my hand, signaling that everything was fine.

“Does he know?” Grandma asked, pulling back and searching my face with a mixture of tenderness and curiosity.

“Not yet,” I replied. “I don’t want him to start worrying about me or the baby too soon. He’d only stress himself out and live in a constant state of panic.”

A soft, delicate smile spread across her face as she nodded in understanding. One last glance down at my stomach, and her eyes showed a new light as she processed the happy news. 

“You’ve built such a precious family,” she noted, squeezing my hand. “This is what you deserve.”

I nodded, feeling the truth of her words settle in my heart. It was everything I’d ever dreamed of.

My attention drifted back to the garden, where I spotted Sakura crawling across the grass again, her little body wiggling as she explored every inch of the ground. Levi toddled after her, a tiny, determined protector, keeping an eye on her every move as he held the stick in his hand. When Sakura reached out for a small, spiky stone, Levi waddled over, furrowing his brow in concern. 

“No, sis! Don’t touch!” he scolded in his limited but emphatic vocabulary, holding out his hand to stop her.

Despite her brother’s warnings, Sakura only giggled, flashing him a mischievous smile before crawling even faster, forcing Levi to chase after her. His little legs moved quickly, stumbling slightly but with determination as he followed her across the garden. Watching the two of them, Noah leaned back on the grass, a proud smile spreading across his face as he witnessed the bond between our kids. 

When Sakura crawled back to her Papa, Noa brushed a stray wisp of hair from her face. 

“Why don’t we practice your walking skills a little bit, huh? Enough crawling around,” he said, tapping her tiny nose. “Until you can stand on your own, babygirl, how do you plan on holding a katana?”

Sakura probably only caught the word “katana”. Nonetheless, she raised her arms up to him, and with his help, she planted her feet in front of her. Levi, always eager to be part of his sister’s milestones, scrambled to her side. He grasped her small hand. Noah placed his huge ones around her little body.

“Come, sis,” Levi encouraged. He tugged her hand forward, his eyes never leaving hers as he and Noah helped her up and steadied her. Sakura wobbled, almost losing her balance. She took a shaky step, then another.

Levi coaxed her along with a beaming smile, glowing with pride at his sister’s efforts. 

“You’re doing it, sis!” he said, pulling her forward with all the enthusiasm his small frame could muster. Sakura responded with another happy squeal, her trust in her brother absolute as she stumbled forward, gripping his hand tightly.

From the edge of the garden, Trouble lay stretched out under the sunlight, her black eyes tracking every move. She watched Sakura’s attempts with rapt attention, her tail swishing with encouragement as if cheering on our little one.

Sakura took a few more shaky steps, her hand still gripping Levi’s for balance, until she finally lost her footing. But just as she began to teeter, Noah scooped her up into his arms before she could fall. Sakura clung to her Papa, and Trouble, as if sensing the moment, lifted her head and let out a triumphant howl, celebrating our tiny human’s success.

Noah laughed, cradling Sakura close as she snuggled into Noah’s chest, exhausted but utterly thrilled, while Trouble wagged her tail even harder, her proud gaze following. It was as if she understood the victory of Sakura’s steps and was just as invested in every small victory as the rest of us.

As Noah held Sakura, her head rested against his shoulder, her hair now loose—the bun undone, and the hairband lost somewhere in the garden. Her eyelids began to flutter, the day’s activities finally catching up with her. She gave a little sigh, her fingers curling sleepily into his shirt as she drifted off. Noah turned to Levi, extending his free hand. 

“Come on, buddy.”

Levi obediently took his father’s hand, and together they headed back inside, with Trouble padding along behind them.

Once we were all back in the living room, Trouble trotted over to me, her keen eyes meeting mine with a knowing glint. She pressed her nose against my stomach, nudging me softly. I stroked her fur and gave her a gentle “Shh,” hoping she’d keep our little secret just a bit longer. 

Meanwhile, Noah adjusted his grip on the now-snoozing Sakura, and glanced at Levi, who was yawning and rubbing his eyes.

“Let’s get you two to your room for a nap,” he murmured, giving Levi’s hand a squeeze. Levi didn’t protest, his tiredness starting to show. “Go give Mama and Grandma a kiss.”

Levi leaned in and placed the softest kiss on my cheek, whispering, “bye, Mama.” Then moved to hug Grandma.

As they made their way to the twins’ shared bedroom, I watched them disappear down the hallway and Trouble settled down beside me, resting her head on my lap. I scratched behind her ears.

After a little while, Noah came back.

“They’re both out like lights.” He settled into his seat with a relaxed sigh, picking up his cup and taking a long sip of his tea. He noticed Trouble, who was still comfortably nestled with her head on my lap. “Hey, big girl,” he said with mock indignation, arching an eyebrow. “Where’s my share of the cuddles?”

As if understanding his request, Trouble lifted her head from my lap and trotted over to Noah, plopping down beside him with a huff. He scratched her behind the ears and ruflled the fur on her neck. She leaned into him, accepting his attention with her usual grace.

The peace didn’t last long, though. Less than an hour into their nap, I noticed Trouble’s ears perk up, her attention shifting to the hallway. She slipped away from us, heading toward the children’s bedroom. 

She had sensed them waking up. 

Sakura and Levi weren’t the type to cry when they woke; for the past year, they’d developed a habit of waking each other with little noises and soft giggles, almost as if inviting each other to play. 

I got up and followed Trouble, who smoothly squeezed through the gap Noah had left in the door.

When I opened it fully a moment later, I found Levi already out of bed, his face alight with excitement as he tried to wrestle with Trouble, charging at her and pushing with all his tiny might. Trouble looked thoroughly amused as she lay there with perfect patience, moving just enough to make him feel like he was putting up a real fight. His laughter rang out as he finally managed to clamber onto her back. In response, Trouble rolled over gently, pinning him beneath her massive paw in a playful but controlled move.

Not wanting to be left out, Sakura, who was obviously also awake, crawled over, her eyes fixated on Trouble’s tail as it swished enticingly from side to side. With a little pout, she reached out, trying to grab it, but Trouble swayed it just out of reach, starting a game of chase. Sakura crawled faster as she tried again and again to capture the elusive tail.

“Catch Trouble!” she called. 

Levi, now up on his feet, toddled around the room with all the confidence of a young explorer, and Sakura was quick to follow, her rapid crawling fueled by her intention to keep up with either her big brother of the wolf. Her little hands slapped against the floor as she tried to match their pace, but every so often, she would fall just a bit behind, her face scrunching in frustration.

Noticing this, Trouble ever so heedful, decided to pad over to her and lay down directly in her path, as if offering a solution. Sakura’s eyes lit up, and she eagerly clambered onto Trouble’s back, settling herself with a triumphant smile as she shouted “catch!”. With her tiny hands buried in Trouble’s thick fur, she held on tightly as the wolf rose slowly, careful with each movement and letting her enjoy her “victory”. Then, with Sakura perched securely on her back, Trouble began to walk at a measured pace, following Levi’s toddling path around the room. Sakura squealed with joy, her laughter bright as she held on, her little body bouncing with each step.

I watched them all, my heart full as I leaned against the doorframe.

Come evening, we prepared for the nightly ritual of bath time, one of my favorite moments of the day, while Grandma prepared dinner. I’d insisted she leave it to us, as she was our guest, but she insisted on cooking while we took care of the children. Noah and I filled the tub with warm water, adding just a hint of baby shampoo that filled the air with a soft, sweet fragrance and created a layer of frothy bubbles on the surface. After I undressed Sakura and Noah undressed Levi, we eased them gently into the water, ensuring their little bodies had time to adjust to the warmth.

Sakura, a water enthusiast, started kicking her legs right away. The instant her tiny feet touched the water, she sent splashes flying toward me, Noah, and her little brother, setting off giggles that only grew louder as she saw our crinkled faces.

Once seated in the tub, Levi joined in the fun, slapping the bubbles with his hands and gathering foam to blow into the air—a trick he’d picked up from watching me when they were a bit younger. Noah and I washed them carefully, shampooing their hair, which sometimes turned into a bit of a juggling act as they squirmed and giggled, forcing us to keep a steady grip so they wouldn’t slip beneath the water.

“Close your eyes,” Noah called out when it was time to rinse their hair. They both complied, but Sakura’s face always tensed a little, still a bit wary of the water streaming over her head and face.

Finally clean, smelling fresh and looking irresistibly pink-cheeked, with their skin moisturized and their hair tangle-free, we bundled each of them in thick, fluffy white towels, wrapping them snugly into two little burritos. They looked up at us, eyes half-closed, as if already starting to sink into the cozy warmth, the softness of the towels hugging their tiny bodies.

I stayed behind in the bathroom to clean up as Noah carried our little bundles over to our bed. I gathered the twins’ bath toys, placing them in a basket, then paused just outside the doorway to watch. Noah knelt on the bed, playfully towering over their tiny forms as they lay side-by-side, snug in their towel cocoons. He was using his playful, bedtime voice. 

“Who are Papa’s favorite little warriors?” 

Sakura and Levi gurgled and giggled under their Papa’s attention. Levi reached out, and Noah leaned closer, letting the tiny fingers brush his cheek, only to “accidentally” shift so Levi’s hand tapped his nose instead. Noah widened his eyes in surprise, prompting a delighted laugh from Levi. With a grin, Noah lifted Levi’s chubby feet, playfully nibbling at his toes before turning his attention to Sakura, who had been watching his antics with wide-eyed fascination. 

“What about you?” he asked. “Are you a brave little warrior?”

Sakura stretched an arm toward him, and he took her tiny hand, pressing a kiss on her knuckles. Then, tracing a line down her face, he murmured, “You’re Papa’s fearless princess, that’s what you are,” finishing with a tender boop on her nose.

He unwrapped her towel just enough to blow soft raspberries on her belly, then did the same to Levi, sending both of them into fits of giggles as they tried to curl up as if trying to escape.

“Who’s got the giggles now, huh?” Noah chuckled.

Noticing me in the doorway, he reached out a hand, and I joined him, bringing over the kids’ pajamas from the drawer. 

The next morning, Sakura was suprisingly the first to wake, her little voice calling for me. I could tell immediately that she was hungry, so I scooped her up and took her with me as I sat in the rocking chair in the room, where the quiet of the early morning enveloped us like a cozy blanket. As I fed her, the soft light filtering through the window illuminated her delicate features, and I couldn’t help but smile at how sweet and peaceful my daughter looked, with her Papa’s same eyes and hair.

“Slept well, babygirl?”

With her hands around the bottle and her lips glued to the tip, her eyes found mine and she nodded. 

Once she was fed and fully awake, I reminded her that Levi was still asleep, so I carried her with me back to the master bedroom, where Noah was still tangled in the sheets, lying on his stomach, shirtless, with one hand tucked beneath a pillow.

“Papa,” Sakura called.

Just hearing her say his name was enough to coax a smile from him, even with his eyes still closed. I let her climb onto the bed, and she crawled right over to him, nudging his tattooed shoulder with a soft insistence.

“Papa!” she repeated, louder this time, her tiny hands pushing against him.

“Yes, babygirl?” Noah mumbled, rolling over slowly to face her.

Sakura babbled something that neither of us quite understood, and we shared a laugh, enchanted by her morning enthusiasm.

“I know, I know,” Noah replied, stretching his arms overhead as he sat up, the sheets slipping away to reveal the entirety of his muscled tattoed torso. 

After a few moments of morning cuddles, Noah got dressed and decided to take our daughter out into the garden, where they were greeted by Trouble. They settled on the porch, where Noah cradled our baby girl in his arms, the two of them framed by the glow of the rising sun.

As the first light of day crept over the mountains, Sakura cooed and babbled happily, her little hands pointing at the sky in wonder. Noah murmured softly to her, sharing snippets of thoughts and observations about the world. He pointed out the way the colors changed in the morning light, the birds flitting about, and the way the leaves shimmered with dew.

After the entire family woke up and had finished breakfast, Grandma called out the children into the living room. 

“I have some surprises for you, little ones. Come here sit with Grandma.” On the floor in front of her were colorful packages wrapped in bright paper, each adorned with shiny ribbons. “Look what I brought for you!” 

Levi dashed over, tugging at his sister’s hand to urge her to crawl along behind him. 

Grandma began by handing them each a small package. Levi ripped into his with the fervor of a true little boy, revealing a set of brightly colored building blocks. His eyes widened in awe. 

“Look, Mama!” he exclaimed, holding them up proudly.

Sakura, on the other hand, took her time, delicately unwrapping her gift with tiny fingers. When she finally revealed a plush white bunny with extremely long ears, her face lit up with pure joy. She hugged it tightly to her chest, her delight evident as she nestled her head against it.

“Do you like your new bunny, sweetheart?” Grandma asked, her heart swelling with happiness.

Sakura nodded vigorously.

After unwrapping the toys, Grandma reached behind her and brought out two beautifully folded outfits.

“For my little warrior,” she announced, holding up a small, traditional outfit for Levi—a miniature warrior’s attire, complete with delicate, intricate details that mimicked one of his father’s. “And for my little princess,” she continued, revealing an elegant white kimono adorned with tiny embroidered blossoms.

We’d kept both children in modern, comfortable clothes—soft cotton jumpers, leggings, and joggers that allowed them to move freely and easily. But seeing these traditional clothes, made with such care and attention, felt like a small window into the past, connecting them with the roots of their heritage.

Levi darted over to Noah, who was sipping black coffee by the garden, one hand cradling his mug while the other rested on Trouble’s thick fur, who stood at Noah’s waist even on all fours.

“Papa! Can you help me wear this? I’m going to be just like you!” Levi’s eyes sparkled with excitement, the bundle of cloth and miniature armor pieces clutched in his tiny hands.

Noah set his coffee down and motioned Levi closer. He knelt, carefully fastening each part of the outfit, steady hands adjusting every strap and buckle with the same focus he might bring to his own armor. Levi stood stock-still, his chest puffed out proudly. When Noah finally stepped back to take in the sight, Levi looked every inch the little warrior. 

Noah chuckled softly, reaching out to smooth our son’s hair. 

“Looking good, Levi,” he murmured, feeling a tug of pride at the familiar look in Levi’s eyes. It was like seeing a younger version of himself, bold and ready for anything. “Did you say thank you to Grandma?”

As if realizing his mistake, he turned around and shouted, “Thank you, Grandma!”

Grandma’s smile only grew bigger.

As we admired Levi’s transformation, I noticed Sakura still sat on the floor, a look of frustration and sadness spreading across her face. She was tugging at her sweater, trying to pull it off by herself, her little face scrunched up in concentration—and then she started to cry silently, overwhelmed by her desire to join in but unable to undress on her own.

“Oh,” I muttered as I walked to her and kneeled down. “Baby, it’s okay. We’re going to help you.”

“No need to cry, come on,” Noah interjected, scooping her up and settling her on his lap as he took a seat on the couch. “Arms up, baby.”

She lifted her arms, sniffling a little as he gently pulled off her sweater and guided her tiny arms into the sleeves of her kimono. He adjusted each fold with care, and then tied the delicate sash around her waist. Once she was dressed, Noah lifted her and propped her up on his thighs. She stood there, balanced in his hands, her big eyes taking in the soft white fabric that flowed elegantly around her tiny frame. The kimono’s delicate folds shimmered in the morning light and made her look like a tiny princess straight out of a storybook.

“Look at you. My beautiful babygirl,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Sakura stood still, gazing up at him with a tiny blush blooming on her cheeks, her admiration shining so openly that it made Noah chuckle.

“I think your daughter might be in love with you,” Grandma commented with a smile.

“You have no idea,” I interjected, and all of us laughed. 

I walked over to them, smoothing my hand over the soft, white fabric of Sakura’s kimono, adjusting a fold even though Noah had already done it perfectly. She gazed up at me, her big eyes bright with excitement, and I couldn’t help but smile, my heart swelling as I took in her joy.

“You look absolutely beautiful, sweetheart,” I murmured, brushing a stray curl from her forehead. I glanced at Noah, letting a playful glint spark in my eyes. “Daddy did a great job.”

Noah smirked, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes. 

“Pretty good with belts and knots, aren’t I?” he murmured, his voice low enough that only I caught the edge of his joke. I shot him a wide-eyed look, barely able to hold back my laugh. Typical Noah, sneaking in a comment like that while Grandma and the kids were right there. Lucky for him, everyone else seemed blissfully unaware.

Then, with that familiar, warm smile, he slid his arm around my waist and tugged me closer. He didn’t even have to say anything for me to feel how much he loved being here with us, with his family.

Sakura watched us, her little face brightening as she glanced between her father and me. “Papa, kiss Mama,” she piped up, clapping her hands together.

Noah chuckled, his gaze meeting mine with a look that held years of shared stories, a million unspoken words. Then he tilted his chin up, I bent down, and he kissed me, a soft press of his lips that was so familiar yet always felt like a quiet thrill. Sakura’s giggles filled the room, the kind of laughter that made everything feel lighter, as if we’d slipped into one of the fairytales she loved so much.

After spending time with Grandma and taking a walk down to the heart of the sanctuary that morning, we met Rika’s family and other neighbors. Lunch was a communal affair in the main hall, where the air was rich with the scent of fresh rice, vegetables, and miso. Levi and Sakura spent the afternoon running about, playing with Rika and Milla’s children, giggling as they chased one another—eighter on two or four legs—, and even cautiously patting and feeding the deer that roamed around.

Trouble stalked nearby, her tail held high and a low, protective growl rumbling every time one of the other animals got too close to Levi and Sakura. She was overprotective, and it was clear she took her self-imposed role as a guardian seriously. 

Eventually, we made our way back to the house, the golden afternoon light filtering through the trees. While Noah went outside to feed Trouble, Grandma approached me with a knowing look in her eye. She took my hands in hers, her warmth and wisdom wrapping around me.

“Why don’t you and Noah take some time for yourselves?” she suggested. “I’ll stay here with the children.”

“But you only just got here,” I protested, reluctant to impose. “You don’t need to jump right into babysitting duty, Grandma.”

She gave a small laugh, her eyes crinkling.

“Maybe because I think Noah should know the news,” she said.

I paused, feeling a soft swell of emotion at the thought. Her hand squeezed mine as she looked into my eyes. 

“I know he’ll be even more protective and likely won’t let you out of his sight for a moment, but he deserves to be part of this journey and not miss a day. Let him share in the joy and excitement with you.”

I took a deep breath. She was right, of course. Noah deserved to be a part of this new chapter from the very beginning, and I could already picture the joy in his eyes when he found out about the life growing inside of me. 

I bit my lip, but eventually nodded. With my heart grateful, I gave Grandma a warm hug.

After a quiet moment, I made my way outside, finding Noah as he leaned against a tree, watching Trouble with a satisfied smile as she finished her meal. He looked up as I approached. 

“Why don’t we go out for a bit?” I suggested, doing my best to sound casual.

Noah raised an eyebrow, casting a glance toward the living room where Levi and Sakura were happily playing with Grandma. 

“Again? I think both the kids and Grandma might be tired…”

“Just the two of us,” I clarified, cutting him off with a small smile.

He turned back to me, his expression shifting from confusion to understanding, realization dawning in his eyes. 

A slow smirk crept across his face. 

“Just us?” he murmured, his tone lower.

“Yes,” I replied, extending my hand toward him. He took it without hesitation, his warmth making me feel all the more eager to share this not-so-little secret with him.

Inside, we gathered a picnic basket and filled it with a blanket, fruit, and other snacks. We said goodbye to the children, who didn’t seem too preoccupied with us leaving thanks to Grandma’s presence. As we made our way to the door, Trouble followed us, glancing over her own back every two seconds, clearly undecided between following us or staying back with Levi and Sakura.

“No worries, Trouble. You’re in charge here,” Noah told her. She hesitated, giving us one last look, before trotting back inside and settling herself protectively beside the children, her tail curling around Sakura and tickling her in the face, making her scrunch her nose and cover her face with her arms. 

Noah and I left the house with a loving laugh. 

The weather was perfectly warm and clear as we set off up the path toward a hidden pond not too far, eager to savor the last few hours of sunlight. It was a secluded little haven we had discovered just before I got pregnant with the twins—a place Noah and I had made our own, keeping it a secret even from the kids for now. As much as we loved being parents, we cherished our time alone, too. Though Noah hadn’t said it outright, I could tell from the glint in his eyes how much he appreciated Grandma’s gesture in giving us this moment to ourselves.

We spread out the blanket on the sand surrounding the pond, the warmth of the late afternoon settling over us as we unpacked apples, peaches, berries, and pastries from the basket. Noah settled down and I knelt beside him, reaching eagerly for one of the chocolate pastries. But before I could take a bite, he gestured for me to sit between his legs. I moved over and leaned back into his arms, savoring the comfort of his warmth and the easy rhythm of his breath against my neck.

With his arms wrapped around me, he held a box of berries in front of us and began feeding both of us, occasionally rubbing a blueberry over my lips to tease me, pulling it back with before I could catch it. When I gave his thigh a playful pinch, he yelped, and I turned my head to meet his gaze with a glare that said, “You deserved that.”

After a while, with our appetites satisfied, I relaxed against him, my head resting on his shoulder and his chin gently perched on mine. His cheek brushed against me, warm and slightly rough—just the way I liked it. His arms held me close, my hands resting atop his as we took in the view together: the slow sway of the water, the vibrant reflections of the sun across the pond, the birds soaring overhead, and the flowers tilting upward as if reaching for the fading sun.

I felt the soft ghost of Noah’s lips graze the crook of my neck, where my skin was exposed. Instinctively I tilted my head to give him more access.

“I love the way you smell,” he murmured, his voice a low vibration against my skin. 

“What do I smell like?”

“Hmm. Lavender and… baby powder.”

I snorted, laughing softly. 

“So do you,” I teased, leaning in at an odd angle to nuzzle my nose against his cheek. He pulled a face.

“Please don’t tell me that,” he groaned. “A Samurai smelling like baby powder? Not exactly intimidating.”

“It makes you a responsible, caring dad.” My voice softened as I looked up at him, our faces so close I could see the flecks of darker brown in his eyes. “You’re the best father to our children I could’ve ever asked for.”

“Because you and our kids deserve only the best,” he replied, his hand sneaking up to touch my chin with a finger. He tiped it up. Then his palm cupped my cheek and he brought our lips together. 

We kissed under the trees, surrounded by the earthy scent of the forest, birdsong, and the rustling of leaves in the breeze. Gradually, my body melted beneath his touch, and he shifted until I was lying back on the blanket, his mouth never leaving mine. 

Since the moment I got pregnant, Noah’s affection and care had grown, and he had never stopped showing how much he loved me and how beautiful I was in his eyes. He was a grown man now; gone was the teenage boy I’d watched training tirelessly on my father’s grounds. But his heart remained unchanged, and every now and then, he’d still wear that peaceful expression while he slept—the look of that young boy I’d first fallen in love with. Now, Noah was my husband, my soulmate, but he would always also be the boy that stole my heart.

Lying on the blanket, his hands explored my body, slipping beneath the fabric of my kimono to find my skin while my fingers trailed through his hair, drawing soft sounds from his lips that stirred a warmth deep within me. I hooked a leg around him, arching to meet him, offering myself without hesitation. Noah murmured something against my mouth, and as I ran a hand down his back to slip beneath his shirt and touch his muscles, his grip on my waist tightened.

“Behave,” he ordered, his voice rough. His eyes remained closed as he untied the laces of my kimono, spreading the fabric to either side and exposing my skin to the open air, a chill raising goosebumps.

“Or what?” I teased, nipping at his lower lip.

When he opened his eyes, they were dark and narrowed, though a playful glint lingered in them. 

“Or I’ll find a good use for this belt,” he replied.

“Oh? And then…?”

His brow lifted, slightly taken aback by my boldness. 

“Then I’ll place these berries on every spot that makes you shiver,” he murmured, his fingers tracing down the valley between my breasts and along my sides, tickling lightly. My giggles bubbled up, and he laughed with me, though his intent was clear. “And I’ll eat every one of them off you before letting my tongue wander between your legs.”

Heat pooled low in my belly, but I maintained a calm facade. 

“And you’re going to act so indecently out here in the open?” I teased, tilting my head toward a nearby deer quietly grazing in the shade.

Noah followed my gaze. 

“They’ve witnessed far filthier things than that, done by you,” he teased right back.

I couldn’t suppress a wide smile before his mouth descended on mine. In a matter of minutes, my underwear was gone, and Noah was making good on his promise with focused, deliberate devotion. I lay exposed on the blanket, berries scattered across my stomach as his mouth traced every inch of me, savoring each berry he plucked from my skin. He licked away the juice that dripped from them, glancing up at me every so often. 

Eventually, he shed his clothes as well. I watched him with a blissful smile, sated from my first climax, his skilled mouth having left gentle love bites along the inside of my thighs as the breeze carried away my gasps. When he finally entered me, I felt complete, holding tight to his shoulders as he moved within me, my legs locked around him and my eyes fixed on his. I lifted my head to meet him in a kiss, tasting the faint tartness of raspberries lingering on his tongue.

“Sometimes,” he said, his voice strained as he withdrew slowly, inch by inch, making me feel every exquisite part of him, “I still can’t believe you’re mine.”

I tangled my fingers in his hair and pulled him back down to me. 

“I’ll be yours,” I whispered hoarsely against his lips, my nose brushing his, “until the end of days, Noah.”

Our eyes locked, and as we moved together, he would reach up every so often to tuck stray strands of hair behind my ear or simply to cup my cheek with quiet affection. At one point, his hand wandered to the box of berries beside us. He held a strawberry to my lips, feeding it to me as he held still within me, his body warm and solid against mine.

“Sweet?” he asked hoarsely. 

I nodded, my cheeks flushed, overwhelmed as always by the press of his heavy body and his cock filling me completely.

“That’s exactly how you taste,” he murmured, punctuating the words with a deep, slow thrust that left me gasping. “No,” he corrected himself, withdrawing slightly, his muscles flexing under my hands as I clung to his biceps. “You taste even sweeter.” He thrust again, harder this time, drawing a cry from my lips. “That’s it,” he coaxed. “Let the Gods hear you. Let them know how good I make you feel.”

“Please, Noah,” I pleaded. “I’m so close.”

He knew, and he didn’t hold back, guiding me to the edge and staying with me as I fell, a soft whimper escaping my lips as his name echoed through the trees. He followed soon after, his released spreading through me, our bodies trembling together as we clung to each other, complete in the quiet of the forest.

Not long after, Noah led me to the water. We cleaned ourselves off, then I wrapped myself around him like a koala. He spun us in circles, making me laugh until my sides ached.

When we emerged, my hair dry because I’d kept it tied back with a kanzashi stick, we dried off and slipped back into our underwear. Feeling utterly content, I lay down on the blanket, my hair spilling around me as soon as Noah pulled at the stick with a cheeky smile. He settled beside me on his stomach. He’d collected a small bundle of flowers—jasmine, sakura blossoms, and a few other delicate wildflowers. One by one, he began placing them over my belly, just as he had done earlier with the berries. When my skin was adorned with petals, he tucked the last sakura blooms in my hair.

The sight of those particular flowers stirred memories. They were a tender reminder not only of our daughter now, but of all those years ago when Noah would visit me at my grandmother’s village home at night, stealing moments with me under the moonlight and the sheets. He would leave in the early mornings, just before sunrise and before I would wake up. When I did, he was gone, but he always used to leave a bunch of sakura flowers on the pillow as a reminder of his love.

Now, the flowers were a reminder of our past and everything we had endured—of the strenght we had found in each other and how much we had accomplished, of the man and the woman we had become. 

“I have to tell you something,” I murmured, feeling the nervous tickling settling in my lower pit. 

He paused, holding a jasmine in his fingers, his eyes bright with curiosity. Without another word, I guided his hand to rest on my flower-covered belly. I watched as his brows furrowed, and then his eyes widening as he began to piece it together. The jasmine slipped from his fingers, settling delicately at my navel.

A quiet breath hitched in his throat as he took in the meaning of my gesture. His eyes filled with wonder, his lips parting slightly as he looked down at my belly, his hand pressing carefully—almost reverently— over me, protective and awestruck.

His question—“Are we having another baby?”—uttered so softly and carefully, as if he believed saying it too loud might shatter the truth of it, melted me. I nodded, my smile bright and cheeks warm, the blush deepening at the comfort of his strong hand resting over our child—our third. 

I felt weightless, floating in a dreamlike state as I looked into the warmth of Noah’s brown eyes, seeing the light of love and devotion that always glowed there. Not a day went by that he didn’t express how lucky he felt to have found me and to have fought for me—to had me fight for him—, how proud and grateful he was that I’d given him not only my heart but a family. I had given him happiness, the kind he’d been raised to believe he’d never deserve. 

After a beat, when the news settled in, his lips found their way to my flower-covered stomach, pressing a tender kiss right where our little one was already learning the love of their Papa. 

Back at home, our girl Sakura and our boy Levi played together, blissfully unaware that soon they’d have someone new to protect, to dote on, to share their world with. Just imagining their excitement and fierce protectiveness over their new sibling made me laugh, my eyes misting. Noah must have been thinking the same. He pressed his cheek against my bare skin. When his eyelashes fluttered, they sent a ripple of lovely goosebumps across my body. 

My hand slipped into his hair, fingers threading softly as we lay there together, wrapped in the quietness of our deserved joy. I had a husband, an adopted wolf, a daughter, a son—and another baby on the way, created from the endless love I shared with Noah—my soldier, my warrior. 

My Samurai.

✨ Author's note:

*cries* *cries more* *cries some more*

*continues crying*

Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading this story, for all your support, for encouraging me to keep going after I posted the first part (which was supposed to be a one shot). Thank your for sharing your thoughts, for commenting, for reblogging, for messaging me about this fic and sending my brain on overdrive with your brainrots. Writing this story has been a dream, firstly because I always wanted to read a romance story with a Samurai and Noah made the perfect muse for it, second because it gave me an excuse to do a lot of research on Japan and its culture and history. This is in no way an accurate historical fic, but there's so much I've read online and s much I've learnt. I wish I could've made this fic into something better and make it more accurate—perhaps longer, too. But I'm currently very happy with what we've created together, yes, together, because half of this wouldn't exist without all of you that have showered me and my works with love and care. I'm forever thankful and glad that writing and sharing these so many words have brought me close to so many of you wonderful creatures.

I hope you know that, while this is the end of the fic, I have some exciting plans for the future involving samurai!noah. I don't want to say more for the time being, but don't say goodbye to him just yet.

I hope you loved reading this as much as I loved sharing it with you and reading your comments and reactions.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart. 🥹

V. 💕

*proceeds to sob*

Taglist:

If I forgot someone, I'm so sorry! I love you! There's just so much going on in my head!

@girlfromrussia-universe | @kankuurohs | @somebodyels3 | @missduffsblog | @respectfulrebel

@badomensls | @shilohrosechicken | @moreyoulove-moreyouknow @concreteangel92 | @alwaysfightforwhoyouare

[lostintransist]

This Bunny Bites | Part 9

Check out part 1 here.

CW: None that I can think of.

Meeting up with Cara always helped you feel your spine decompress. You met her at the first club you took a job at. She had been a dancer already, and you with your mismatched and too-small boobs had been relegated to serving drinks. She had caught you watching the girls several times and even trying the pole before shifts started.

For some reason, Cara had decided to take you under her wing. She set you up with a friend of hers who taught pole classes. The number of times you walked home with a bow-legged gait was unreal. Soon enough the inner skin on your thighs didn’t scream any time it touched the pole. Once you had enough skill you were approved to run small sets between the regular dancers. Though you were under no circumstance allowed to remove your bra. Your right side sat vastly smaller than your left. Custom bras were the only way to deal with the discrepancy. The money you earned from the between-set dances and the lap dances paid for your implants.

Cara, again being a saint, became more than a mentor. She became your best friend. If you think too hard or too long about where you would be without her the tears start to flow. If soul mates existed yours lived in a body named Cara.

Chin resting in your hand you stare at her across the table. Her dark eyes and perfectly done-up hair accentuate how beautiful she is.

The snapping of fingers in front of your nose brings you back to the present.

“Did they put straight gasoline in that mimosa? You were staring,” Cara eyes you.

“No,” sitting back in your chair you adjust your legs and cross your arms. “I was thinking about how if soul mates exist you have to be mine.”

Watery shock fills Cara’s eyes.

“You can’t do that to me. People already don’t believe me when I tell them you aren’t my girlfriend.” Cara flapped a hand at her eyes, blinking and staring at the ceiling to fight off tears. “But thank you. I think you would be my soul mate as well.”

Plucking your previously mentioned mimosa from the table you smile into it as you take a sip. The mimosas at this cute little cafe, several small tables filled the space. Fresh flowers on every table and the soft, bright colors on the walls were only some of the reasons this was your favorite morning spot.

With a slight shake of her head and a light dab at her eyes, Cara focused back on you. Her shrewd eyes came out.

“Alright, spill. You said something bad had happened but it needed to be discussed in person,” Cara threaded her fingers together leaning on her elbows on the table.

You can’t stop the worried expression that passes over your face as you take another sip of the drink in your hand.

“So uh,” you set it down, ruffling your hair with your hand.

“Oh fuck, you’re touching your hair something bad bad happened.”

If you could stab her with your eyes you wouldn’t hesitate.

“Bitch you are not supposed to use your powers for evil! Let me tell you what happened before you jump to conclusions!” You huff out a breath, conscious now of the desire to touch your hair. “But yes, fine a few things have happened but you are not allowed to ask any questions until I am done.”

Pointing to her for good measure you waited until she rolled her eyes and put her hands up in defeat.

“Caroline canned me for the incident I told you about where Todd let a fight start and escalate until I had to get involved.”

Cara cut in, “The one where you nearly got clocked in the nose right?”

“You couldn’t escape a paper bag with the way you listen, now hush and let me finish.” You glared until she apologized and pulled her purse to the table.

As Cara dug out her compact or lip gloss you continued.

“So I am out a job when I am so fucking close to making it out,” you clock the nasty look an old woman of god sends you but ignore it. “But wouldn’t you know it one of the guys that came in with my brother came in that same night to offer me a job. So,” you rush to keep talking before she can open her mouth as you can clearly see she wants to, “I had dinner with them, accepted the job, and ended up telling Johnny the reason I dance is dear old dad putting me on the internet. I managed to do it without yelling even.”

Looking fit to burst your best friend is chomping at the bit to say her piece.

“Hold that thought, our food is coming.” Looking up with a smile to the young man delivering your food, “Thank you so much for your help, Wyatt.”

He nods and sets both plates down on the table, taking a step back.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” He glances from you to Cara.

“Can I get some salsa please?” You ask with a warm smile.

“Of course, that should be just a minute,” Wyatt nods and walks away.

“Bitch what the fuck is your life! First off, not yelling at your brother? He deserved it. Second how much are you getting for the job?”

Bless her for not asking what the job is, the NDA you signed would have you hanging by your ankles if you broke it.

“No, I didn’t yell at him. It was in front of all of his teammates. Johnny works as special forces of all things.” You keep talking even as you queue up your first bite of omelet. “I delivered the news like a calm badass and left the house they are renting. Did I cry the entire walk to my car? Yes, but that is not the point. Job is paying 30K.”

Cara lifted both brows at her food.

“Damn, that’s double what you needed to get out right?”

Humming confirmation around the food in your mouth you nodded.

Swallowing, you hold a finger to your lips.

“Yeah, I won’t even have to quit since Caroline let me go.”

“What a bitch,” Cara shook her head. “I can’t believe she let you go over an air horn. An air horn that saved her property damage and saved the girls from getting hurt I might point out!” She pointed her fork at you aggressively.

‘Willing to go to bat’ was something you wanted to put on a T-shirt for Cara.

“I did do that, but she wasn’t pleased I hid them in the ceiling and I bet Todd has been gunning for my head for a long time. He didn’t like that I never kowtowed to his demands.”

“Well, you have a hard time listening to authority,” Cara acknowledged offhandedly.

“If I wanted a mental evaluation I would schedule an appointment with my therapist,” you gape at her. Bitch knew you better than anyone and weaponized it.

Cara, the bitch, laughs at your outrage.

The obnoxious sound of your phone going off cuts off your well-timed and deserved middle-finger salute. Pulling it out the caller ID noted three money bags.

“Ah, the new boss. One second.”

Swiping to accept the call you lifted the phone to your ear.

“What’s up?”

“Free today?”

“Depends on the reason,” you counter.

“Have an opening at a fancy dress shop at 2 PM today if you can make it. You’re going to need the right kind of clothes to fit in,” Price offers by way of explanation.

“Send lover boy with a card and car, he can pick us up at my place.” You catch Cara’s eye and point to the uneaten food.

She waves a hand, no she doesn’t want to take it. You nod in acknowledgment, waving for Wyatt who had stepped around a corner. Cara will handle getting the bill.

“Us?” Comes his careful question.

“My bestie will be coming, you think I am going to trust lover boy’s opinion on such an important matter as this?”

“You signed an NDA.”

Cutting him off you say your piece.

“I can shop with my best friend without breaking an NDA. This isn’t my first rodeo with them. Now what time should we be ready for pick up?”

Cara called you steamroller for a reason. You dig out your card from your wallet, it is your turn to buy. Passing it over you focus back on your call.

“He will be there at 1300.”

“Ooo big number, translate it for me.”

The confused look from Cara meant she caught your tone switch to demanding but sweet.

“Gaz will be at your home at 1 PM.”

“Thanks, Captain,” you sprinkle in a touch of sweetness to your tone.

He grunts and hangs up.

“That sounds interesting,” Cara eyes you, mischief in her gaze.

“Not nearly as interesting as it’s about to be. Come on, we are heading to my house. I am curious to see your take on our driver.” Grabbing your purse you hauled it up to your shoulder.

Wyatt returned rather quickly with your card, after signing the receipt you lead the way to the parking lot with Cara in tow.

“You’ve piqued my interest, anything I should know going in?” Cara watches you as she asks.

“Nope, I want your cold read on him.”

“Can do. I will see you at your house then.”

Waving to your best friend you climb in your car and head home to get ready for an interesting afternoon.

@leahnicole1219

Bunny Masterlist | Masterlist

[bloatedandalone04]

Dirty Little Secret

➪the one where you and tyler are in a secret relationship.

Warnings: smut, fluff, oral (both f & m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, swearing, hair pulling, dirty talk, lowkey pain kink

Word Count: 2.4k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Yours and Tyler’s relationship was rather simple. 

You and he were together, officially, but secretly.

In an attempt to not make things super fucking awkward or weird for the others, you and Tyler decided to keep your relationship a secret, and for the most part it was working quite well. 

Originally, you started out as just friends. You were both content with that for a while, until it became very obvious that it wasn’t nearly enough for either of you. So you tried one date with him, and the rest was history. 

With that being said, the crew were all very close to each other, but no one had crossed romantic boundaries. Except for you and Tyler, but no one knew. In fear of things going wrong or the two of you breaking up (though it was becoming more and more clear that you and Tyler were in this for the long haul), the decision to have a secret relationship was a mutual one.

But, fuck was it hard to do sometimes. 

-

Another day, another successful chase. 

Tyler had been in the truck for a good portion of the day, so he was happy to stretch his legs as he stood in the lot with you, Boone, Dexter, Lilly and Dani in front of him. Ben had already gone off to his room at the motel, since the way Tyler drove had made him sick or something like that. 

His eyes met yours for a brief second before he looked over at Lilly. “How were the numbers today, Lil?”

Lilly scrolled through her phone as she read the statistics of their most recent stream, a sly grin on her face when she looked up. “One of our highest watched streams yet,” she answered, giving Boone a fist bump as the two of them fell into a conversation. 

Tyler nodded, a content smile on his face as everyone wandered off towards their respective rooms. His hand brushed along your lower back as he passed by you on his way to his own room, a knowing look on his face that was similar to the one on yours. 

Once he was in his room, the countdown was on. You and he had a plan; wait for everyone to go their separate ways, wait exactly seven minutes because five was too soon, then you would quickly knock on his door four times so he could let you in and ravish you all night without the peering eyes of the others. 

Tyler shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the chair before leaning against the desk, his eyes on his watch as he silently counted down the minutes until he would hear your knock, then have you back in his arms - where you belonged.

Exactly seven minutes later, four quiet knocks sounded on the other side of the door, and Tyler was already moving. He swung the door open and pulled you inside immediately, kicking the door shut behind you. “Fuck, baby,” he mumbled, reaching for your hips as he pushed you against the wall beside the door. His lips found yours in a deep, heated kiss that pretty much showed you just how much he had missed you today, despite being near you the whole time. Pretending like you were just his friend was a fucking hard task. “I’ve been waitin’ for this all damn day. Missed you so much.” 

His fingers slid the bottom of your shirt up a bit before his hands grabbed the skin of your waist, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip as he pressed you more firmly against the wall. 

“I know we can’t show it out there, but in here? Fuck, you’re all mine,” he muttered, his hands sliding up your back under your shirt.  

You moaned softly against his mouth and tangled your fingers in his hair. “Technically I’m yours out there too,” you murmured, “Just secretly.” 

Tyler groaned into the kiss, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he ground his growing erection against you. “I love you so much, baby,” he mumbled as he peppered kisses along your jawline, down your neck and on your throat as he pulled your shirt off, tossing it aside carelessly. “You’re so goddamn perfect, sweetheart. I wanna show you off to the world, but this works too.” 

You grinned against his lips when he leaned back in and kissed you deeply, his arms wrapping around your body to unclasp your bra. “I love you too,” you said back, threading your fingers through his hair as his hands groped at your bare chest. “Take me to bed, Ty.”

Tyler’s hands reached down and gripped your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly and carrying you over to the bed. His lips trailed all over your chest, his tongue running along your nipples before he moved lower. His fingers unzipped your jeans and tugged them down your legs, your panties following quickly after as he groaned at the sight of your dripping core. “Tell me what you want, baby,” he murmured, teasing your folds with his index and middle fingers as his body settled between your thighs. “Want me to taste this pretty pussy?”

You whined, propping yourself up on your elbows as you looked down at him. “Yes. Please,” you answered, your voice barely above a whisper. Your fingers brushed along the undersides of your breasts as you subtly bucked your hips closer towards his mouth. “Please.”

Tyler smirked up at you, his mouth pressing soft kisses all along your thighs. “So fuckin’ hot, baby,” he grunted, leaning in to kiss your clit as his tongue poked out to lick at your folds. When your familiar taste coated his mouth, he groaned, his hands gripping your thighs as he buried his face between your legs. He flicked his tongue rapidly over your clit, circling it and sucking on it as he devoured you like a starved man. “Mm, fuck yes.” He mumbled against your quivering slit, his fingers digging into your soft thighs as he focused his attention on your puffy bundle of nerves. 

“Ty,” you gasped, falling back onto the bed as you spread your legs wider for him. Your fingers tugged on his hair, gently pulling on the light strands as he touched you and tasted you in the way you’d been craving all day. When he sucked harshly on your clit, you moaned rather loudly as you slowly ground against his face. “Fuck, it’s so good.”

Tyler groaned against your pussy, his tongue working overtime as he lapped at your sweet taste. “You taste so perfect, sweetheart,” he praised, the sting of your relentless tugging on his hair going straight to his cock. Two of his fingers slipped inside your core easily, pumping them in and out of you as his lips brushed along your lower stomach. “That’s it, baby.”

“Fuck, just like that,” you cried out, pulling harder on his hair as your back arched. “You’re so good at this, Ty…fuck, I’m so lucky.”

Tyler grinned against your skin, feeling the way you tightened around his fingers. “Gonna make you cum so hard, sweet girl,” he mumbled, curling his fingers deep inside you. “Wanna feel this tight pussy squeeze me.”

Your moans grew louder at his dirty words, and he knew they would. In the many months he’s been with you, Tyler had discovered that you had a thing for dirty talk, and he had a thing for coaxing those sweet sounds out of your mouth, so he was more than happy to indulge in your fantasies. 

When your thighs began to shake, he knew you were there, so he sped up the pace of his fingers and sucked on you a bit harder. “Cum for me,” he mumbled against your clit. “Wanna taste you.”

“Fuck…fuck,” you cried out, giving his hair one last tug before you came hard. Your back arched even more as your eyes squeezed shut, your moans growing louder to the point where Tyler wasn’t entirely convinced your secret relationship was still a secret. 

Tyler moaned at your taste, cleaning you up greedily as he worked you through your high. “There you go, baby. Cum all over my face,” he cooed and didn’t stop until he felt your body go limp, your breathing heavy and ragged as you tried to catch your breath. He pressed a final, much more gentle kiss to your overstimulated clit before standing up from the bed, keeping his eyes on yours as he brought his fingers up to his mouth and sucked them clean. “Best fuckin’ taste in the world.”

You whimpered as you weakly pushed yourself up and leaned in to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips as you reached down to pull off his belt. Your fingers hastily unzipped his jeans and shoved them down his thighs, along with his boxers, moaning softly at the way he kissed you a bit harder. 

Your fingers brushed along his abs through his shirt as you pulled away and moved to lay down on your stomach, your head at level with his hips as you looked up at him. “Take this off, baby,” you mumbled before gripping the base of his cock and wrapping your lips around just the tip.  

Tyler’s hands quickly grabbed the end of his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it aside to find later. His chest was heaving a bit, his abs tensing as he tangled his fingers in your hair, his palm resting against the back of your head. “Fuck,” he muttered, the feeling of your warm, tight mouth around his throbbing dick making him let out harsh breaths. “So fuckin’ good.” 

Your tongue swirled around him as you bobbed your head up and down, coating him in a thin layer of your spit as you looked up at him through your lashes. Your hand stroked what couldn’t fit into your mouth, your other one gripping his hip and silently encouraging him to thrust gently.

He let out deep groans, tightening his hold on your hair as his hips started to thrust shallowly, pushing himself deeper into your mouth. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he grunted, refraining from just fucking your face like he wanted to. “Your mouth is fuckin’ perfect.”

When you hollow your cheeks and take him deeper, Tyler knew he wouldn’t last long. He gently guided you off him, his thumbs stroking your jaw as he leaned down and kissed you sweetly. 

“I wanna fuck you, baby,” he mumbled, helping you to your knees before he spun you around and bent you over the bed. Guiding your legs apart, Tyler gripped your hips as he slowly pushed inside of you. He groaned at the tight stretch of your soaked core around him, giving you a few seconds to adjust before he pulled nearly all the way out, only to thrust back in again. 

“Ty,” you gasped, fisting the sheets as your body jolted forward once he set a hard, fast pace. Your hair was a mess, your eyes rolled back as he fucked you from behind. It was more than clear that you both needed this after going the entire day without so much as a brush of your hands. 

Yours and Tyler’s love language was touch, so having to be around each other all day but not be able to touch? Yeah, that resulted in exactly what was happening right now in this motel room. 

The bed creaked under the fast pace of Tyler’s hips, but he had to go hard, because you were gripping him like you never wanted to let him go. “Fuck, you’re so tight. So perfect,” he grunted, tightening his hold on your hips to hold you in place. He leaned over you, pressing his chest against your back as he kissed all along your shoulder and jaw. When one of his hands reached around you to brush along your throbbing clit, you moaned a bit louder, and Tyler smirked. “You like that, baby? Like when I fuck this tight pussy?” 

Your head fell forward, your face pressing against the comforter as you nodded helplessly, murmuring a slurred chant of ‘yes’. The headboard knocked against the wall and mixed well with the sound of Tyler’s hips hitting yours over and over again. “I love it,” you finally managed to say, your legs shaking despite you being completely supported by the bed. “God, Ty…harder. Please, I need it.” 

Tyler groaned, fucking into you even faster and deeper than before. “Are you gonna cum for me again?” He rasped, rubbing harsh circles on your clit in time with his thrusts. “Come on, sweet girl, give it to me.”

You let out a soft, quiet scream as you cum for the second time, your moans muffled by the sheets. Tyler didn’t relent, his hips hitting yours as he fucked you through your high. His fingers were gripping you so tight, holding you firmly in place as he felt himself get impossibly closer, and a few seconds later, he was there too.

He grunted deeply, weakly thrusting in and out of your pulsing pussy as jets of white painted you as his own. “Fuck,” he whispered, leaning over you again as he panted against your neck. “Christ, baby…” 

A soft laugh left your mouth as you let him practically crush you against the bed. “I guess you can say I kinda fucking missed you,” you offered with a lazy smile, still trembling a bit. 

“I think that’s an understatement,” he mumbled, pressing soft kisses to your damp skin. “I missed you too, sweetheart. I swear, I’ll never get enough.” His words were sweet now as he slowly pulled out of you, cradling you against his chest as he moved to lay down on the bed. 

“You better not,” you grinned, cuddling against him as the motel room fell quiet again.

“I won’t. Promise,” he said quietly, rubbing your back as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “By the way, you were kind of loud. Do you think they know now?”

You hummed and shrugged, tangling your legs with his. “Do you want me to not be so loud?”

“Fuck no,” Tyler answered quickly, holding you a bit tighter. “Just…be prepared in case these walls are super fuckin’ thin, because I have a feelin’ we won’t be a secret for much longer.” 

And he was right, because as soon as he saw Boone’s smirking face the next morning, he knew there was no hiding it anymore. And secretly, Tyler was really fucking relieved.

[arts-bloody-rose]

Blood of A Rose - Part 5 (Art the Clown x Fem!Reader)

Masterlist

Summary - With their rebirth, Art and (Y/n) dwindle into hiding while they recover from the tragic events that had occurred, finding tranquility in each other as they reunite. However, once that peace was disturbed, there was no telling what chaos had been unleashed.

Notes - New era = new main series cover y’all 👏🏻 This follows the events of Terrifier 3 for the most part, but obviously not to a T with more behind the scenes with Art and reader and the reader being incorporated into different scenes.

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list or have a request!

Word Count - 6,180

Warning(s) - Violence, gore, smut, alcohol/drinking, Vicky and Art are their own warning

⚠️ Do not read if you care about spoilers for the third movie/haven’t watched it ⚠️

Song Inspiration -

Paul Wiley - Morgue (Terrifier 2)

ZAND - Slut Money

(Y/n) basked under his intense gaze, adjusting to his appearance. Something felt different. New and refreshing. She didn’t know what to say, not after all that had happened and all that was happening in the moment so quickly. 

She moved to sit up, Art immediately holding out his hand and she took it with grace. He stood as her torso rose with ease, carefully watching her every movement as her legs followed suit. 

Her hand held onto Art’s arm for support until she felt well enough to stand on her own. She stood there for a moment, silent as her body adjusted from being still for so long. 

Without a word, she looked around the dusty room with a neutral expression as the clown grinned down at her menacingly. (Y/n) then spotted a cracked, full-length mirror leaning against one of the walls. 

She turned, feet moving her towards it suspensefully as Art kept his own planted, watching her in anticipation. Once stood in front of it, her arm reached out to wipe off a bit of the dust built onto it and her stomach sank. 

She almost couldn’t recognize the woman in front of her. Her skin was significantly more pale, blemishes somewhat faded and features more pronounced. Her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion when she locked eyes with herself, leaning in to further examine. 

She noticed what seemed to be a thin, white ring along the outer edge of her pupils and she blinked to see if her mind was playing tricks on her. And yet they still remained. 

(Y/n) then spotted the blood stain on her shirt and looked down at herself, hand reaching up to brush her fingers over the wound that was no longer bleeding, and somehow already healing. 

Art finally moved, stalking over to stand behind her as she straightened herself upright. She turned her head to look up at him with a curious gaze. 

“What’s happened?” She whispered, yet received no response. 

Art simply stared with the same smile he always bore. 

“Are we dead?” She asked in a now flat tone. 

Art shook his head slowly. 

“How? I saw your body, that’s not possible.” She pressed, her body now completely facing him. 

The clown shrugged with a mischievous look in his eyes. He then brought up one of his hands to her face, knuckles brushing against her cheek as he admired her new appearance. The same hand reached around to rest itself on her lower back, guiding her with him to a rocking chair that sat near one of the few unbroken windows of their home. 

“This has to be a dream…” She commented mindlessly as he tossed away a piece of wood that sat on the chair, turning it around to face the window and sitting on it. “Or limbo…” She continued with a dazed look in her eyes, moving to sit on Art’s lap when he outstretched his arm closest to her to invite her. 

Once she was settled, he brought a hand up to her head to gently press it against him, her eyes suddenly growing heavy with exhaustion. She focused on the sound of the chair rocking beneath them, his hand moving down to her back to soothingly rub it, continuing until he felt her breathing and heart steady before resting it on the arm of the chair.

-

Voices muffled inside the rotted building, floorboards creaking as they stepped around. 

“Please don’t tell me you believe all the stories about this place?” One of the men asked his partner Dennis incredulously. 

“What stories?” The man questioned with concern. 

“Back in the early 90’s,” Maurice, the older of the two, began. “Some maniac abducted and killed over a dozen kids in this town. They buried all the bodies in the basement here in this building. Now everyone swears the place is haunted.”

Dennis stepped forward, expression unreadable. “Are you fucking with me?” 

Maurice didn’t answer and instead continued to stare at him with a hard expression. 

“You’re fucking with me.” The man smiled hopefully. 

“Of course I’m fucking with you!” Maurice lunged suddenly and his partner jumped back as the older man cackled. “Now, come on. I’ll take the first floor and the basement, and you… upstairs. Been skittish all day.” He commented before beginning to wander around the floor. 

Dennis sighed, looking up at the ceiling then around the room reluctantly. As Maurice disappeared, the man pulled out his flashlight and clicked it on, trudging his way upstairs. 

“Jingle bells, jingle bells… this place fucking smells.” He sang as he looked around, the atmosphere static and felt nearly ancient. 

The floorboards creaked with every step, even louder as he reached a particularly cluttered room. Random items were scattered, even a rusted bicycle sat in a corner against the wall. 

“Disgusting.” He mumbled to himself as cobwebs were scattered everywhere he looked. “Anybody home?” He called half-heartedly, leaning down to avoid the lower wooden boards of the ceiling when his eyes caught sight of something particularly concerning. 

In front of a window sat what seemed to be two figures in a rocking chair, both still as a statue with webs covering them. 

“What the fuck?” He muttered, leaning his head over to investigate further without having to move closer. “Hello?” He called louder, testing to see if they were real. 

After receiving no response or movement, he whistled. Still no response. 

“That’s not real.” He tried to convince himself, legs shifting nervously. “That’s not real, right?” Dennis stepped back slightly. “Hey, Jackson!” He called out to his partner, but was met with silence. “Anybody home?” He questioned the figures, finally giving in and making his way towards the chair. “Yoo-hoo.” 

Dennis reached the chair, waving his flashlight in the face of an eerie black and white clown, white eyes open like saucers with a horrifying grin. 

“What the fuck.” He whispered, eyes moving down to what seemed to be a life-size doll curled in the clown’s lap. 

Her peaceful expression did little to calm his nerves. If anything, it enhanced them. 

“Holy shit.” Dennis’ voice shook as he examined them. “Hey!” He whispered, then waved a hand in front of the clown’s face. “Hey!” He tried again. “Are you real?” 

The clown suddenly lunged his hand into his face and he shouted with fright, the room a blur as he was thrown across the room by its masked strength. 

(Y/n) jumped awake, startled by the commotion and looked up to see Art already grinning down at her. He fussed over her appearance, focused as he picked off the cobwebs from her and brushed her off before urging her to stand up. 

Once she did so with a stumble, he followed suit, joints aching and popping as they both stretched with satisfaction. 

The two of them slowly looked over at the man on the floor who struggled, shuffling painfully and groaning. (Y/n) stepped back as Art sauntered his way over to him, the former then moving closer to watch the scene unfold curiously. 

Art bent down and grabbed the man’s shirt, tossing him once again against the wall as (Y/n) bit her lip at the sight. 

She continued to watch eagerly as the clown once again stepped over to the man crawling across the floor, snatching his shirt a second time before kneeling to pin him down with a knee on his back as if it was nothing. 

Art laughed from above him, drinking in the sight of the squirming body as if it were a glass of wine. 

As they continued, (Y/n) spotted movement from her peripherals, looking up to see what looked like a woman with a disfigured face, her skin scarred, almost leathery in appearance. Her dress was tattered and filthy and (Y/n)’s eyes squinted in disapproval when she noticed her watching the scene just as she had been. 

The woman’s head tilted as Art stabbed a large, rod-like nail through the man’s palm and raised a glass shard up to her face, caressing it against her neck as her opposite hand reached down to the edge of her dress. 

(Y/n)’s breath quickened, no longer paying attention to what was happening closest to her. The shard was brought down to the woman’s marred thighs, disappearing beneath her dress as (Y/n) grew nauseous at the implication. 

Once she noticed her hand begin to thrust the sharp object, (Y/n) snapped her head to look away as the screams of the man filled her ears. Her fists clenched and unclenched, a multitude of emotions flooding her as the events unfolded. 

When the screaming suddenly stopped and labored breathing filled the silence, she looked up to see a puddle of blood beneath the woman, still dripping onto the floor. She then looked over at Art who gave the new individual a for shame motion with a playful grin. 

He then looked over at (Y/n) and began to laugh, but it abruptly stopped when he noticed her expression. Her breathing was heavy, eyes set on the other woman as rage began to boil in her veins. 

With the same smile, he slowly rose to his feet and made his way over to her, wiping off his hands onto his suit. He lifted a hand to her chin and turned her head to look at him, but when she met his eyes he was greeted by an icy glare he had never received before. 

Art frowned at her and raised his eyebrows, hands delicately circling her face, then cupping over his heart with his smile returning, blinking at her to show his adoration. 

Her eyes shifted to the woman and he stepped to the side to also look at her, then felt a pair of arms begin to possessively wrap around his torso. He looked down to see (Y/n) still focused on the woman, but now latching herself onto him like a leech and he wiggled his eyebrows excitedly. 

One of his own hands rested on top of her forearm, his other reaching up to snake around her shoulders. Art then looked up at the scarred figure with a dark expression and they watched as she huffed, turning around and waddling out of the room. 

“Who is she?” (Y/n) asked once out of earshot. “And don’t lie to me.” She quickly added before he could respond, turning to face him as she let go. 

Art took a dramatic and deep breath, shoulders dropping. He pointed to where the woman was standing, then between the two of them and motioned a heartbeat over his chest with his hands. 

“She is why we’re alive?” Art nodded, sticking a finger up on both sides of his head as makeshift horns. “A demon?” (Y/n) deadpanned. “A demon wants us alive.” She continued as more of a statement of disbelief than a question. 

Art made a stabbing motion and motioned between the two of them. 

“She wants us alive to continue what we’re doing?” 

He nodded excitedly and pointed at her. (Y/n) crossed her arms, tongue running along the inside of her cheek in irritation as she looked off to the side. Then she gave him a warning look. 

“If she tries anything with you, I’m getting an exorcist.” She dropped her arms and began making her way to the door. “Even if it means we have to find something else to keep us alive.” 

Art watched her disappear, teeth set in an anxious smile as he patted his legs nervously. He wasn’t worried about the demon, no. He was worried about themselves because he knew she never made an empty threat.

(Y/n) made her way downstairs to the main floor, sighing at the familiar sight of their workroom that seemed unchanged besides the dust that settled.  Her brow furrowed in a silent question, turning to the footsteps that entered behind her. 

“How long was I asleep for?” She asked Art as her eyes widened with concern. 

He looked up, mouth moving thoughtfully as his finger tallied the air. He then smiled and held up five fingers. 

“Five what? Months? Years?” Art nodded. “Years? Five years?” His head followed her back and forth as she paced. “What the hell. How is that even possible? How is any of this possible?” She whipped around to face him with a dumbfounded expression and he shrugged. 

Art then made his way over to her and motioned for her to breathe and calm down, pointing to her, then himself adoringly before resting his hands on her shoulders and kissing the tip of her nose.

She followed his instructions, taking a deep breath and letting her forehead fall onto his chest in defeat. “I can’t keep up with all of this, Art.” 

(Y/n) felt him rest a hand on her back, walking her to her room that was still left untouched, though he had to argue with Vicky on that one. Along with a few other matters. 

Everything looked the same, other than a few pieces of paint that chipped off of the walls. Art wandered over to the bed, aggressively patting at the covers and pillows and clearing off dust before presenting it to her with a dramatic flail of his arms, inviting her to lay on it.

(Y/n) sighed and chuckled, closing the door behind her and dragging her feet over to him, about to lay on it when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. 

She stepped in front of it, head tilting as she continued to adjust to her new appearance. She watched as the clown moved to stand behind her, locking eyes with her when he rested his chin on top of her head and let his arms dangle at his sides

“So this is us now?” She sighed as Art dropped his persona, face neutral. 

She turned around to face him, hands reaching up to cup his defined cheeks. 

“I don’t mind.” (Y/n) mumbled, eyes bouncing around to different areas of his face, taking in his features. “As long as I have you.” She stood on her toes, reaching up to place her lips over his in a rare, delicate kiss. 

As they melted into it, she felt his hand wander and squeeze at the meat of her arse. She jumped at the sudden contact and felt him grin against her lips, her hands grazing down to his chest and walking him back to the edge of the bed.

He stumbled back when he was pushed down to sit on the mattress with a surprising amount of force, gasping silently. His face was in shock as he looked up at (Y/n) who held the same expression. 

Once the initial surprise wore off, he grinned wickedly and snatched her by her waist, yanking her to sit on top of him. 

“That’s new.” She mused in a whisper and he wiggled his eyebrows at her before capturing her lips with his own, feeling her hips roll against him as she sighed at the relief. 

Her hands pressed him down further to lay back, following him down and working her lips to an exposed patch of skin at the edge of his ruffle collar, sucking and nipping at the skin as his hands wandered her figure. His hips rose to meet her rhythm and she moaned, dragging her teeth against him.

His hands wandered down to her hips, kneading her before gripping the edge of her pants and ripping them in half with a sudden jerk, peeling them off of her. His hands held her waist, lifting the two of them to sit up and unzip his suit, raising his hips to expose his throbbing cock. 

Locking eyes with her, he laid back down and she adjusted herself to hover over him, grabbing hold of his member and aligning it with her throbbing pussy. 

Her head tilted back, lips parted as she sunk herself down onto him, impaling herself until she sat against his pelvis. Art reached up and forcefully gripped her chin, jerking her head down to look at him. He grit his teeth, practically snarling as she began to set an even pace, looking between his disappearing cock and her pleasant features. 

Art quirked an eyebrow in encouragement, moving to take hold of her hips and guide her into a faster rhythm. She gasped and moaned at the new sensation, hands resting on his bare chest for support as she rocked against him. 

Her volume increased when he began to meet her movements with his own, grip tightening into a bruising hold. 

“Art, please -“ (Y/n) gasped and he nodded at her as she desperately ground against him, eyebrows knit together with pleasure. 

He sat up, taking her throat into his mouth and pounding up into her suddenly. Her hand reached to the back of his head, her other clawing at his back as they grew closer and closer to their long-awaited release. 

“Yes, yes, yes -“ She chanted as her lips brushed against the top of his head, eyes rolling to the back of her head as she screamed through her orgasm, trembling in his arms as he followed suit, thrusts slowing as he rode it out. 

He licked up her jaw and bit at her lip, pulling back with a shit-eating grin when she looked away bashfully. He pulled out, carefully rolling (Y/n) to lay on the bed as he stood and zipped up his suit. 

Art blew her a kiss and she giggled, watching as he wandered over to her wardrobe and opened it with a flourish. He crossed one arm in front of him, the other tapping a finger against his chin as he eyed the articles of clothing. 

Once he finally decided, he pulled out a casual black dress, walking back over to the bed giddily and laying it out beside her, pointing at it excitedly for her. (Y/n) sat up, eyeing his choice before agreeing. 

“But how am I going to clean up? I doubt I have my house anymore.” Art immediately waved her off, snatching her by her wrist and pulling her up.

His solution? Simply find the nearest house and use its bathroom. Granted, the journey was more bloody on his end, but it was far from an issue as long as (Y/n) got what she wanted. 

And if it meant he was able to slip in another kill or two. 

Freshly cleaned, (Y/n) entered their home, passing the demon - named Vicky, Art informed her - who sat on the floor of one of the empty rooms messing with a various pile of items. Art stayed outside, snooping through the demolition van that the two men drove in. 

(Y/n) stood in the center of their workroom, looking around with a sense of nostalgia. Memories passed through her mind, feeling so distant yet also as if it all happened just the day before. 

Suddenly, Art passed her with an armful of items, a tank of an unknown substance sticking out amongst them to her. 

As he worked to get settled, she looked around the room, spotting her camera sitting on her stool. (Y/n) smiled, walking over to it and delicately picking it up and dusting it off. She examined it, checking for any damage and felt satisfied when none was evident. She took a deep breath, turning on the camera and giggling when it lit up. 

“It still works.” She told Art as she walked up to his bench, sitting on the spare stool. He patted her shoulder joyfully as he moved over to the stove, lighting it as he placed a pot over one of the burners, filled with a thick, mysterious gray substance. 

(Y/n) eyed the new materials on the bench, landing on the tank and turning the label for her to read it. 

“Liquid nitrogen?” She read curiously with underlying excitement. 

Art nodded as he took his seat on his own stool, looking around the surface of the bench like a child on Christmas with their presents. 

“That’ll be fun.” She watched as he began to tinker with different items, primarily focusing on the tank as he screwed and tightened various items to connect it into a new contraption. 

After a while, (Y/n) jumped out of her dream-like state when a rat suddenly scurried onto her lap to climb onto the bench. She teetered on the stool, almost falling back until Art snatched her arm and steadied her, eyeing the rat in annoyance. 

“We need to trap them or something, I’m not living with that.” She huffed in exasperation, trying to steady her heart rate. Art wiggled a finger at her in agreement, swiftly returning to his work.

The sound of the substance on the stove began to boil in the background, creating a soothing ambience as Art worked, focusing intently on the task at hand. He pointed at a larger nozzle sitting next to her and she grabbed it for him, handing it over to watch him connect it to the tank with a comedic level of precision. 

He looked over at (Y/n), wiggling his eyebrows mischievously before dragging his gaze over to the rat that sniffed around beside him. He turned the tank, facing the nozzle towards the clueless rodent and opened his mouth with an eager expression before toggling the release. 

(Y/n) quickly hid her face when the substance shot out with a hiss, clouding the area around them and leaving the air colder in its wake while Art shook with excitement. 

Though it suddenly stopped, the air cleared. 

(Y/n) slowly turned to look back at the bench, seeing the rat now immobile and covered in a sheet of white powder. She watched as Art reached over and picked it up by its tail, examining it before tapping it with his finger to test its solidity. 

She gasped when he suddenly banged it against the table, the rat crumbling and breaking into bloody bits as he did so. He raised it once more, still by its tail, and turned to show (Y/n) with sinister countenance. 

As if they could read each other’s mind, they looked at each other, (Y/n)’s lips stretching into her own smile.  

-

“Just imagine the look on their faces when I publish the next piece.” (Y/n) giggled, arm hooked with Art’s as they strolled through the town. 

Lights were wrapped around street lights, wreaths hanging on every other to accentuate the Christmas spirit. The clown looked down at her, watching as they reflected in her eyes as if it was the galaxy itself.

(Y/n) then suddenly gasped, looking up at a sign in front of them as muffled voices laughed and cheered in the distance. “Say, have we been to a bar together?” 

She looked up at Art and he shook his head with wide, curious eyes, eyebrows raised. She then nodded her head in the direction of the sign. 

“Let’s check it out.” Art grinned in anticipation, following her as she made her way to a nearby window and peered inside.

Surprisingly, there weren’t many people inside the rather welcoming setting. Colored lights hung around the room as well as strings of pine and other miscellaneous decorations. She chuckled when she saw the extravagant yet simple Christmas tree tucked in the back with a snowman sitting beside it.

There was the bartender - a man - as well as another man sat at the bar and two women sat on top of another larger man wearing an iconic red suit and hat. 

As the two openly wasted women slid off of the makeshift Santa Claus and began making their way to the door, (Y/n) waved Art to come closer excitedly and pointed to the white-haired man. 

“Look!” She whispered eagerly, clutching at the camera around her neck. 

Art lifted a hand up over his eyes to spot him, his face contorting into surprise before shaking with child-like glee, his bag rustling behind him. He firmly snatched (Y/n)’s arm and she yelped as she was dragged around the building to the entrance. 

Art ran in front of her, the two women from before stumbling as he shoved them out of his way and gasped profanities at him. 

“Hey, watch out for that asshole!” 

“Yeah!” 

The women warned (Y/n) as they passed her, patting her shoulder as they did so. She simply rose an eyebrow at them with a questionable look, rolling her eyes before heading inside.  

“Friend of yours, Eddie?” The man dressed as Santa asked. 

“That is a fucking first.” The bartender replied as Art wobbled in excitement, and if he could speak, he would be speechless. 

Their eyes then fell upon the second figure that entered, relieved at her more normal appearance. The bartender stared at her, feeling more and more uneasy the longer he focused.  

“He with you?” Eddie asked her. (Y/n) simply hummed in agreement. As the group of men mumbled amongst each other, she brushed a hand against the clown’s arm as she passed him, looking back at him and chuckling with a shake of her head.

“Elvis treatment, hm?” (Y/n) told the Santa quietly before sitting on the stool beside him and watching Art with a smile. The man in the red suit gave her a side glance, then turned to look at Art. 

“Hello, hello…” He started warily with a small wave of his hand. Art nervously waved back at him, starstruck. “Hi, hi!” Santa chuckled, slipping into character. “Come on over, come on over! It’s fine.” He welcomed the clown who immediately ran over to him, dropping his bag beside (Y/n). 

Art flailed his hands at Santa, then over at a Santa mask hung on one of the restroom doors and back at him. 

“Yes, yes, yes, that’s - that’s me, that’s me! Guilty as charged!” Art fanned himself in excitement, leaning over to look at (Y/n) and pointing at him some more. She laughed and nodded her head, playing along with his act. 

“Hey Santa, it looks like you got a fan!” The third man sat on the opposite side of the man of the hour exclaimed. 

“What’s with the outfit, pal?” Eddie questioned judgmentally, (Y/n) eyeing him as she licked her lips, then looked back over at Art to see his reaction. 

“Yeah, did the circus come to town?” The third man chimed, but Art simply looked between them all. 

(Y/n) leaned over. “He just got done with a show. Very prideful, doesn’t like to break character in uniform.” Art nodded aggressively, pointing at her in agreement and they all hummed. 

Art suddenly reached out to Santa’s beard, tugging on it to test it. The man grunted at his pulling and flinched away from him, the clown pulling back in surprise. 

“Hey - buddy, watch it. That’s the real deal.” He laughed off as he recovered. “That’s my - that’s my beard! If Santa doesn’t have a real beard, he’s not a real Santa Claus.” He poked Art generously and the clown nodded, face representing understanding before he tapped his own head and pointed at Santa with a grin. 

“Hey fella,” Eddie interrupted with suspicion. “What’s in the bag?” 

Art tapped his fingers together mischievously and pointed at him, stepping over to rummage through his bag. “Here -“ (Y/n) hopped off and patted the stool. Art tipped his hat to her and lifted the bag onto it as (Y/n) looked between the men, wiggling her eyebrows at them with a closed smile. 

“Oh, he’s gonna show us. Hey, what do ya got?” Santa asked curiously as the clown sifted through its contents. “This is, uh - usually I’m the one who’s bringing the magical sack of toys!” He laughed as Art held up a finger, telling them one second. 

Art suddenly stopped, turning to look at Santa with a darker glint in his eyes. (Y/n) held her breath, heart racing as even she wasn’t sure what he was going to do next.

“What?” Santa asked, caught off guard.  

They all jumped when he pulled out a horn, face contorted into a widespread grin as he honked it playfully. 

Everyone seemed to laugh in relief as he continued to honk it, bringing it to Eddie’s face, then doing a little dance as he honked Jingle Bells. “Okay.” The bartender started. “That’s enough!” He held a hand out to the clown who quickly glared at him, but it turned back into a smile just as soon as it appeared and put away the horn, patting the bag. 

As the other three looked amongst each other with mild concern, (Y/n) and Art glanced at each other knowingly, the latter winking at her with a flash of a more sinister expression and licked his teeth. A shiver ran down her spine and it took everything in her not to cling to him in that moment, watching as he fixed himself into his cheerful smile once more and looked back at the group. 

“Have a seat, and uh, I’ll buy you a drink.” Santa told him. “Clowny! I’m starting to like you.” He complimented and Art half-sat on his thigh, the man grunting beneath him at his heavier weight despite his more lean appearance. 

Art reached over and fiddled with the ball of fuzz on Santa’s hat, then snatched it off of his head and placed it on his own. The man belted out with laughter as Art popped his hands out in a flair, as if to say look at me! 

He looked over at (Y/n) who smiled, but he caught the clouded look in her now more sultry gaze and wiggled his eyebrows. 

“Hey, Santa, it looks like you got some competition! It’s Clowny Claus!” Smokey, the third man, joked. 

“No!” Santa exclaimed. “Hey, you’re a natural! You look good.” He complimented and Art waved off his compliment bashfully. “But don’t get it dirty and remember to give it back! You don’t want to get on Santa’s naughty list.” He warned the clown who’s mouth formed an ‘o’ in surprise, then shrugged mischievously with a playful grin to say oops. (Y/n) choked out a laugh, unable to stop herself.

“Hey, why don’t you tell Santa what you want for Christmas, little boy!” Smokey suggested. 

“Better hygiene?” Eddie dragged out in disgust. 

“Ever heard of dentures?” (Y/n) retorted, nearly snapping, and the bartender tossed her a look of disbelief. “Or paint?” She shrugged unapologetically as she shifted her weight where she stood between the bag and Art. “Anything used cosmetically.” 

She looked over at Art when she felt him tap her shoulder, giving her an ok symbol and a reassuring smile. She simply clicked her tongue and turned to face the group, forearm resting against the counter of the bar. 

Sensing the tension, Santa decided to step in. “All right, come on, let’s have a drink - uh - for everybody, okay? Come on!” Art clapped excitedly. 

“Got ID?” Eddie asked, growing tired of the clown’s act. 

“Oh - come on, he’s obviously old enough!” Art held up a finger, waving off Santa who tried to stand up for him and turned to look through his bag as (Y/n) watched curiously. “All right.”

“You think I’m gonna lose my license for these guys?” Eddie asked incredulously.

“He just doesn’t want to say he thinks we’re too pretty.” (Y/n) hummed as she smirked at the bartender, the other two men chuckling as he stood baffled before rolling his eyes. Art silently laughed to himself before pulling out a wallet, tossing it onto the counter in front of Eddie and wrapping an arm around (Y/n)’s waist. 

They watched as he pulled out two IDs from it and her eyes widened just a fraction in surprise. 

“You found mine?” She whispered to Art and he squinted down at her with a grin, nodding. 

“Maurice Jackson?” Eddie exasperated, eyeing Santa in disapproval. 

“What did you expect? John Doe?” (Y/n) bit, about to continue when the hand on her waist squeezed to cut her off. Art leaned in, blinking at him tauntingly. 

“Eddie, you’re killing me, can we just celebrate? Come on.” Santa pleaded, irritated with his friend’s behavior. Art slipped away from (Y/n), sitting back on top of Santa’s thigh.

“Fuck it, it’s Christmas.” Eddie finally gave in and pulled out a few shot glasses. 

“All right, let’s have a drink!” They watched as he began to pour the clear liquid into each glass, sliding one over to everyone. “To my new friend, huh?” They took their own shots in hand, raising them as Santa spoke. “To Maurice Jackson! Cheers!”

They all threw the alcohol back, (Y/n) coughing after she swallowed when Art suddenly spat his into Santa’s face. Smokey began to laugh while Santa rushed to wipe off his face and exclaimed. 

“What the fuck is the matter with you!” (Y/n) watched as Art smacked his lips in distaste, reaching over and wiping off a drop that hung from his lip, drying her finger on his suit. 

She turned back to the counter and leaned against it, grabbing the bottle of alcohol and winking at Eddie as he watched incredulously, pouring her own shot again and downing it as the commotion continued beside her. “You gonna pay for that?” He asked her. 

“Yeah, just keep my tab open.” She replied casually. 

She then heard the sound of something trickling onto the floor and simply stepped away, bringing the bottle and shot glass with her as she made her way to the back where a black bench was perched against the wall. 

She sat down and downed another shot, feeling warm and beginning to laugh as Eddie and Smokey held back Santa from clobbering the clown. Art looked back at her and slapped at his knees, bent over as he silently cackled.

Eddie suddenly snatched him by his suit and dragged him away, throwing him onto the bench next to (Y/n) and knocking over the bottle and shot glass. 

“My shots!” She pouted in disappointment, Art straightening up and adjusting his hat. As the men continued to yell in the background, Art looked over at her irritated expression as she crossed her arms and legs, locking eyes. 

Feeling buzzed, she smirked at him mischievously and they both looked back over at the three men who struggled to bring over his bag. 

Art jumped up and pointed at them in laughter, evading the bag as it was tossed at his feet. 

“I don’t want you to call the cops, I want you to call the fucking dry cleaners!” Art pointed at Santa and fanned his hand over his nose. He then began to rummage through his bag as they continued to bicker, (Y/n) eyeing the now empty bottle beside her. 

She grabbed it and stood, sauntering over to Art with her hands clasped onto the neck of the bottle in front of her innocently and he glanced over at her as he dug. “I want Eddie.” (Y/n) begged, eyes pleading. Art froze and thought for a moment before giving in, motioning for her to hurry as the man in question began to stomp his way over. 

(Y/n) giggled, practically skipping towards him with a smile before the thicker bottle was suddenly smashed over his head, knocking him onto the floor. 

“Oh fuck… oh fuck! Eddie!” Santa exclaimed. 

As she stood over the bartender, a gunshot was heard followed by another thud, Smokey collapsing next. Art watched the body fall, then looked up at Santa and stalked towards him, gun aimed with a frown.

(Y/n) focused on Eddie as he groaned, rolling to look up at her. Eyes wide, he could only stare as she slowly crouched down, the sharp edges of the broken bottle threatening as they pointed down at him. He felt as if he was melting into the ground, her unnatural gaze piercing through him intimidatingly.  

“Should’ve just called me pretty.” She commented sweetly before sending it into his face, spitting onto his face when she felt blood on her lip. She lifted her camera, snapping a few pictures before standing and doing the same with Smokey.

“It’s just me and you, remember? It’s just me and you!” (Y/n) heard Santa's plea and looked over at him and Art who still held the man at gunpoint. “We’re in the same business!” 

She began walking over to them, Santa’s eyes glancing over at her, her face now splattered with droplets of blood on one side. He shook with fear when she came to stand next to Art, arms snaking around his torso as her head leaned against his shoulder with a wicked expression. 

“We - we make… people happy.” He begged as a last resort. Art’s frown slowly morphed into a wide grin and (Y/n) hummed 

Santa began to laugh hysterically.  

Tag List: @hoe-for-daddywise @callsignwidow

[emuwarum]

AVENDAY!!! I love .her

she may have blown something up but that’s not too important!

[miniimight]

3AM sukuna underestimated just how much sleep he'd lose after having a kid (dad!sukuna x fem!reader)

the soft pitter patter of your baby's feet was enough to alert his senses. he didn't move—didn't even open his eyes—but his ears were tuned to the sound of your daughter's heavy breathing and the occasional babble.

he could hear her fiddle with the drawer handles, a soft rumble causing her to hum as she pulled the drawer out. a thud meant she bumped into it as she drew closer, messing around with the paper and cords inside.

he peeked one eye open. you were fast asleep beside him, and he was inclined to keep it that way. he didn't like to see his woman exhausted and seconds away from falling flat on her face because his little girl was, apparently, nocturnal.

"mama." she huffed as she finally turned her attention to the bed, fussing as she attempted to climb up.

he sighed. that was his cue.

he groaned as he rolled over, peering over your resting body at his daughter. she paused for a second, staring up at him with those shiny eyes that reminded him so much of you.

he raised an eyebrow.

she ignored his judgement and bounced in place, stretching her arms out to be picked up. "mama."

"mama's sleeping." he grumbled.

oh. oh, no. she didn't like that. she pouted, eyebrows furrowing in what seemed to be anger. her fingers curled into tiny fists and sukuna's lips twitched upwards in amusement. how adorable.

"mama." she said more adamantly.

he glared right back. "if you're coming back up here, you're gonna go to sleep."

whether she understood or not, she kept fussing to be picked up. he rolled his eyes and scooped her into his arms, rolling onto his back. baby was on his chest, leaning up so that she was sitting upright.

sukuna held onto her back, in case she toppled over and fell over like the bobblehead she was. "lie down."

"no." she chirped, looking out the window at the moon against the midnight blue.

"sleep."

"no."

he scrunched up his face. his life was much easier before she learned that word.

growing bored of the night sky, your baby rolled off sukuna's chest, scooting her way through the mess of sheets over to you. she glanced back at him as if to see if he was watching.

he gave her a look, observing her carefully. "don't you wake her up," he warned, propping his head up by his elbow.

her round eyes showed no trace of acknowledgment before she turned back to face you. there was a pause before her hand lifted in the air.

"okay." he sighed, catching the tiny hand in his before she slapped you awake. "come on."

she whined, writhing in his grip as he pulled her off the bed by the leg, dangling her in front of his face. "you really are little menace, aren't you?" he scoffed, flipping her over and holding her just like you taught him to.

she just babbled as her finger pulled at her mouth, the other hand resting on his shoulder.

he dragged his feet out the bedroom, into the kitchen. "what is it that you want, hm?" he rifled through the cupboards and pantry tiredly. "want a cookie?"

she squealed happily and pat his shoulder, a good enough answer for him to pull the package out. he dropped onto the couch, handing her one.

she nibbled on it, the chocolate staining her hands and mouth. he watched her fondly. to think he'd have a child of his own still confused him to this day. for all his wrongs, he must have done something right.

"wan' one?" she slurred, holding up the half-spit cookie to him.

"...no." he said plainly, though he did pick up a new cookie and took a bite out of it. might as well, he thought.

his eyes drooped until he felt his cookie being snatched out of his hand, replaced by the spitty cookie with most of its icing dug off.

"daddy take that one." she giggled, feasting upon her new cookie.

sukuna... what could he do? he ate that thing.

when you woke up the morning after, you just shook your head at the sight—your daughter resting on your husband's chest, cookie crumbs and chocolate smears all over the both of them. fast asleep. sugar coma.

you saved that picture for later <3

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[mrsbarnesblog]

loyalty

masterlist

summary: Rafe comes back home to you after his meeting with Hollis

word count: 2k.

warnings: smut, established relationship, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, jealousy, reader is slightly insecure

You turned the TV in the living room off as soon as you heard the front door getting closed and the familiar ring of Rafe’s keys being thrown on the table. Patting slowly into the corridor, you bit your lip at the sight of him standing in the hallway, looking sexy as hell in that new sweater of his, and focused on something on his phone. 

“Hey, baby. How did it go?” You stepped closer, dragging Rafe’s attention to you as a soft smile stretched across his face. 

“Thought you were already sleeping.” He put his phone in the back pocket of his pants, now completely focused on you, and pulled you in his arms as soon as you approached him. Rafe hummed in your hair before picking you up from the floor and forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. “Missed you so much, sweetheart.” 

You giggled at his words, your own hands connecting around Rafe’s neck, feeling every single muscle moving under your fingers. “You saw me like two hours ago.” You mumbled, scratching his neck with your nails, relieving the tension you knew was always present in his body. He silently walked back into the living room, one hand firmly holding you under your thighs, and fell onto the couch's soft cushions. 

You were settled on his lap, your worn-out gray t-shirt lifted up, almost not leaving anything for the imagination. He kissed you roughly and unexpectedly, taking a breath away from your lungs. You moaned into Rafe's mouth, gripping the back of his buzzed head to try to keep up with his pace, but he seemed far too eager for you. 

He finally slightly moved away from you, resting against the back of the couch and looking at you with a lazy smile, while his tongue slowly swiped across his bottom lip, tasting you. Your eyes followed the motion and you shifted on his lap at the sudden pressure in between your legs.  

“Couldn’t wait to get home back to you, baby.” You held back your smile but leaned your head to the side, studying his face. You knew Rafe and knew when there was something on his mind. 

“Did something happen?” You lean closer to his face, resting your hands on the cushions behind him. 

“Didn’t sign that yet... I dunno, something seems off, y’know?” He mumbled and rubbed your legs up and down, as he did whenever he was thinking about something. “And she was hitting on me, like tryna hold my hand and shit.” He didn’t break eye contact with you even when your smile slowly faded and you instantly felt a weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. A quiet oh left your lips, as your mind filled with the images of them together, alone on the boat, just a perfect opportunity for someone like Rafe to charm the woman to get more money. “No, no, you’re not moving. You don’t think that I did it, do you?” He tightened his grip on you when you attempted to leave his lap.

“I mean…” You casually shrugged your shoulders, which made Rafe actually laugh in disbelief. 

“You mean?” His hand took a hold of your face to make you look him in the eyes. “I may be many things but a cheater is not one of them, baby. Shit, actually, her doing all of this made me realize that I can’t even think about anyone but you.” Rafe looked at you, one hand dragging your body up his thighs until you were sitting chest-to-chest. 

“I know that you wouldn’t cheat but...”

“There’s no ‘but’. I told her that I wanted to sign that agreement for both me and you. I’m not interested in anything else. Just you.” You felt like you were melting under his intense stare, because you knew when Rafe said something, he meant it. “You, um… I want it all together, just us, y’know?”

Your heart was beating way too hard to be considered normal. You never expected to hear it from Rafe, always in the back of your mind facing a thought about not being enough, about him leaving you for a better opportunity. No matter how hard you tried to muffle that voice in your head, it always seemed to find a way to you. Yet Rafe had it right in front of him but didn’t do it. 

This time you were the one who kissed him. Fisting the collar of Rafe’s sweater, you pulled him closer to you, even if it was not possible, grinding your hips into his and moaning at the feeling of his hands sneaking under your shirt. 

“Tell me that you’re in it with me, baby. I need to hear it.” He mumbled into your mouth, tracing your stomach and then pinching your nipples in between his fingers. He buckled his hips up into your covered pussy, making you push your lower body back against his to relieve the pressure. 

“I’m with you, Rafe, I promise.” 

Your hands reached between you two, quickly unbuckling Rafe’s belt and barely even pushing his pants and boxers down. You both were too desperate to feel each other, not even bothering to take the clothes off or move to his bedroom. Rafe lifted your hips with one hand, pushing your panties to the side with the other one, while you stroked his throbbing cock. You guided him to your soaked entrance, letting him easily slip inside with the way how wet you were for him. 

“Shi-i-it, baby.” He hissed near your ear, pulling you lower onto him, until you took his whole length. Your nails dug into Rafe’s sweater, and your brows furrowed in pleasure at the delicious stretch that he gave you. “Takin’ me in so well, huh?” His voice was low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine as he held you steady against him. You could feel his breath hot against your ear, and the way he filled you made your head spin, every inch of him pressing deeper.

“Please, I need you.” Whining and pushing your knees against the couch, you barely moved yourself up from Rafe’s length when he pushed you back down, instead taking control of you.  

“God, you’re perfect,” he murmured, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he rocked you slowly, the friction making you moan softly into his neck. “You feel that? Just made for me, baby.” His tone was a mix of praise and hunger, and each word sent heat coursing through your body. “Don’t need anyone else but you.”

You nodded, pulling your face back and resting your forehead against his. The air between you was thick, your mouths hovering close to each other, moaning and groaning with each thrust of Rafe’s hips into yours. His gaze was locked on you, dark blues possessive and filled with lust, which almost made you spiral. 

“You know you’re the only one, right?” Rafe’s voice was a husky whisper, eyes locked on yours with an intensity that made your heart race. “Forget about her. I don’t see anyone but you.” He tilted his head slightly, brushing his lips against yours, teasing, his hands gripping your hips firmly, as if to prove his point. “She doesn’t matter. You’re all I want.”

You kissed him, the jealousy washing away with every word and touch that Rafe gave you. You held his jaw with one hand, sneaking under the sweater with another to slide your nails down his chest. It felt like kissing you made him even more feral, even more greedy, as his grip tightened on your hips, and he fucked into you harder and harder. 

It was impossible to concentrate on anything besides the way his dick was filling you, making your head buzz with white noise from the pleasure. Your eyes started to water, feeling approaching orgasm. Your body almost tried to move away from Rafe’s brutal strokes, but he grabbed your ass, keeping you pinned down, ensuring you took every inch he had to give.

“Mhm, Ray, shit—�� Your hoarse voice cracked as you tried to speak, but all that came out was a broken moan. Your eyes rolled back, your hand helplessly sliding down from his face, as you were no longer able to control yourself. Rafe smirked, clearly pleased with how you lost yourself  on top of him, his pace relentless, fucking up into you with bruising force.

“Yeah? You feel that?” He growled, his breath ragged as he watched your face contort in pleasure. “You’re not going anywhere. This is all for you, baby.” His grip tightened, almost painful, as he rocked into you harder, each thrust sending sparks of electricity through your body, pushing you right to the edge. “Cum for me, c’mon.” 

“Rafe—” You gasped, your voice barely a whisper, lost in the haze of pleasure that blurred your thoughts. His hand slid up to cradle the back of your neck, pulling you down so your lips were just inches from his, your breath mingling as you both panted for air.

“That’s it, baby.” He whispered against your lips, his eyes burning with intensity. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

With one final, deep thrust, the coil inside you snapped, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Your vision blurred, and all you could do was cling to him as your orgasm hit hard, your body trembling uncontrollably in his arms.

Too lost in the pleasure, you barely noticed him grunting your name and then moanning as his own orgasm hit him. Rafe filled you up to the brim, you felt every throb of his cock inside of you, barely able to hold back whimpers from the goosebumps that the feeling of it brought you.

“Good girl.” Rafe murmured, his low voice full of pride and satisfaction as he slowed his movements, letting you ride out your high while holding you close, his forehead still pressed to yours. 

You didn’t know when exactly Rafe pushed your both to your sides, or when did he pulled out of you and fixed your clothes to look more presentable, or when did he pulled a blanket over you. You blinked slowly, looking at his face right in front of you, feeling his delicate fingers pushing the hair away from your face and tracing your jawline and lips. You smiled at the feeling, relishing a rare moment of him being so soft and relaxed. 

“So what are you gotta do now?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you watched him, curiosity mingling with concern. The playful glint in his eyes shifted for a moment, revealing the weight of the situation.

Rafe leaned in closer, his expression shifting from relaxed to focused. “Well, Hollis thinks she can play me. Thinks I’m an idiot, but I’m not. I’m not about to let that happen.” He replied, his tone low, sarcastic. “I’ll need to keep her close, let her think she’s in control, but really? I’m just waiting for the right moment to turn the tables.”

“You’re not.” You soothed when you saw annoyance start to rise in him. You placed your hand on top of his, giving a comforting squeeze. “I believe in you, and I know you’re gonna do the right thing. Maybe she’ll know better for trying to steal you away from me.”

A smirk tugged at his lips, and he nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing a bit. “Damn right, she will. I’m not going anywhere, especially not with you by my side.” He leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft kiss and bringing you even closer to his body. 

[2tarbell]

US — KOOK!READER

rafe cameron had been yours since the moment you met.

(drabble. © 2tarbell 2024)

if anyone asked you, you’d say you never got jealous. what was the point? a seemingly endless waste of energy and your valuable attention — people would get on their knees in seconds for a chance to talk to you. a kook princess never got jealous.

which is why the stinging question of ‘why?’ bounced around your head as you watched rafe walk back over to the bar, a pretty head of dark hair awaiting him with an infuriatingly easy going smile.

sofia.

you only learned her name after she introduced herself with a little grin. something about the pogue was effortless and it was currently eating away at any confidence you might’ve had when you walked in.

your makeup felt heavy and your miniskirt too short, too tight — did you look trashy? like you were trying too hard? she was sweet; that girl next door energy you know you’d never have. no matter how much you cried and pleaded.

a bump to your shoulder interrupted your brooding, pretty glossed lips stuck together in a pout, mimicking the furrow of your brow. topper gave you a knowing look and a scowl met him. he chuckled dryly.

“earth to princess, hellooo?”

you rolled your eyes, directing your attention to your empty cocktail glass. the ice looked back at you mockingly — you’re the one who asked rafe to go get you another drink. stupid, stupid, stupid.

“go to hell, top.” the quip made your other best friend laugh, kelce reaching across the table to steal a fry from your untouched plate. how could you eat in a moment like this?

“what’s the problem? you’re literally pouting.” the boy mumbled.

the way kelce spoke through a mouthful of fried potato made you wince. a napkin is thrown in his direction, landing on the table lamely. boys are so messy, and nosey.

you huff dramatically, “ugh, it’s nothing. god, i miss when men went off to war and, like, died or something—“

your annoyed spiel is cut off by a drink being placed in front of you, the lime already squeezed in and floating amongst the cubes of ice. just how you like it. a warm hand rests on the nape of your neck as the chair beside you squeaks against the floor. that voice you know so well rumbling close to you.

“who’s dying?” rafe mumbles as he gets comfortable in the plush chair again, arm stretching behind your shoulders. the gesture is so casual and it makes your stomach twist.

his eyes are piercing when you look over at him — a smirk raises his lips and you fight the urge to slap him then kiss it off his stupid face.

“you — if you were gonna take any longer.”

the eye roll you receive is nothing out of the ordinary — rafe was used to your bitchy tendencies. but watching him chat with the bartender made a seed of doubt burrow into your mind. sofia probably wasn’t such a cunt. maybe that’s why he likes her.

“yeah, well, someone wanted a lime and they were out. sorta hadta wait for your shit, dollface…” rafe explained like it was second nature.

your passive aggressiveness never seemed to phased him, he always put up with it, with you. the thought hurt more than you cared to admit. it was masked with a glare.

you flipped your hair over your shoulder and crossed a leg over the other, stomach churning while you poked at the cocktail with the thin black straw. the conversation between the boys picked back up — blah blah, golf, topper whining about sarah, blah blah.

it was like the cameron boy sensed your disinterest. his arm on the back of your chair shifted, blunt nails now tracing up and down your spine. the contact made your back straighten before leaning into his touch.

it was pacifying for a while. his side profile caught your attention, nose sharp and sexy, cheekbones crafted expertly. he was so handsome it was unfair... she probably thought so, too.

god, why couldn’t you stop thinking about that pogue girl? was he charming and funny to her? maybe he played hard to get and dismissive. maybe her number was sitting in his pocket, scribbled on a napkin in perfect curls — fucking ew.

suddenly you became irritated. the thought of your best friend, your rafe thinking he could flirt with someone like her then slink back over to you. yeah, right. you weren’t that easy. you rolled your shoulders, shrugging off his touch. he shot you a look but didn’t say anything, just adjusted in his chair.

you were listening to the conversation even less now, anger and something you didn’t want to name boiling in your chest. stiff as a board, you picked at your food. only humming in acknowledgment when something concerned you. it was obvious something was the matter and your friends shared curious looks with each other but never asked you outright.

a warm palm tried to squeeze your thigh but you pushed his hand off. rafe clenched his jaw at your dismissal, feeling that familiar need for dominance over you and whatever fuckin’ attitude you decided to have today. with topper and kelce in a heated debate over something probably stupid, rafe leaned in — his breath was hot against your ear as he spoke in a low warning tone.

“don’t know what your fuckin’ deal is — but it ends now, yeah? eat.”

the glare you sent up through your lashes only stoked the fires of his annoyance. there’s a momentary stare off, eyes communicating thousands of thoughts and unspeakable feelings.

with a scoff you look away, feeling a lump form in your throat. no, this isn’t happening. you stand abruptly and rifle through your purse for a hundred before you throw it on the table, storming off with heels clicking.

the sound echoes in rafe’s head as he snatches the bill up, placing his card down on the table. he quickly follows after you, ignoring the way sofia’s eyes light up when he heads her direction.

“hi, rafe, i was just…” her words fizzle out in her tongue as she watches him pass her, marching after the pretty girl in a yellow top.

the small family bathroom offered a reprieve from the stifling nature of rafe’s presence and your own mind. looking in the mirror — you hardly recognized yourself. you shoved your purse onto the counter, feeling like your composure was completely lost.

eyes wide and teary, lips still glittery but trembling. this was only a version of you he could bring out. now, you found yourself wishing for the comforting weight of his words and gaze and — no, be strong. get it together.

the silence was broken by the door being pushed open with immense force. your head dropped, not trusting yourself to form a witty stab of words. within seconds he was turning you, body hard and pressing your back into the counter, reaching behind you and shoving the hundred dollar bill back into your purse. a wince left you when he gripped your jaw tightly with a hold unforgiving and questioning.

“fuck was that, huh? you— you were doin’ so well, dollface, and now—”

the words halted when he saw a shiny tear streak down your face. the way his eyes softened only pushed you further into despair. his hand moved, now cupping your face and running a thumb along your cheekbone. the wet pearl caught on his skin but once they started, they just kept coming.

soon you were in his arms, hiccuping and holding on for dear life. rafe rocked you with a tight hold — voice soothing despite the look of confusion on his face. he’d never seen you this upset before, this broken.

“hey, hey, woah — what’s’a matter? what happened?” he cooed.

his large palm smoothed over your hair as you pressed your makeup running cheeks to his chest. hugging rafe always made everything better, but now you can’t stop thinking about him holding her like this.

he spoke your name firmly, pulling your head back to look deep into your wet eyes. his stare was intense, worried and seeking answers.

“use your words f’me,” he pushed your hair back off your forehead as he mumbled. and if you were in your right mind, you would’ve shrieked about him ruining your hair.

“jus’— d’you like her?” you blubbered.

rafe was more than confused, his eyebrows drawn together tightly. he crouched down a little, trying to hear your meek voice better.

frustrated and distraught, you pushed him back weakly. a few more inches were put between you two — only a few seconds until he crowded you again, trying to soothe you.

“sofia, rafe! do you like her?”

your yelling had him stepping even closer. shaking his head quickly, confused and slightly irritated, rafe cupped your cheeks in his palms.

“okay, okay— i heard you. don’t scream. i don’t— i don’t even fuckin’ know her. stop, stay still—“

you were squirming, trying to get far from him. far from this and the horrible ache in your chest at just the thought him maybe, possibly—

“stop, i’m talking now. ‘m not— i don’t like sofia, okay? i don’t, y’hear me?” his voice was authoritative, freezing you in place. those blue eyes pleaded with yours for understanding, for trust.

despite the tension between you, his heart skips a beat as your gaze meets his. he sees the sparkle in your eyes, that fire mixed with a hint of softness that he’s so fond of. it gives him a glimmer of hope that maybe he can bridge this gap between you.

“c’mon. you know you’re my girl.”

you melt into him unconsciously, seeking that warmth his embrace always seemed to bring. you’re hugging each other tightly in the small bathroom. rafe stares at your figures in the mirror, watching as you nuzzle further into his arms. like you belong there.

with a sniffle, you tip your head back. feeling so small as you look up at his face. rafe leans down and presses a tender kiss to your mouth — moving slowly in a moment of raw vulnerability.

his voice is low, you feel the vibrations against your lips as he speaks softly, “i wouldn’t do that t’you… to us.”

he feels your body tense at his words, his hands squeeze your hips. with wide eyes you pull back from the kiss and gape at him. his touch is begging you to listen, to not freak out. the tears well anew as you let his words wash over you. us. he thinks there’s an us.

suddenly, it’s like you can breathe again. like all the nights feeling scared and confused without him seem worth it. all of it’s worth it to be in his arms like this, hearing him justify the feelings you’ve done everything to bury.

rafe cups your cheek in one hand, the other arm wrapping fully around your body. there’s something so tender and charged about the way he’s looking at you and wiping your crocodile tears away.

he’s begging you now, eyes flicking between yours, “you’re my girl, you know that. always gonna be us, a’ight?”

a light burns in your heart and you realize that you do know that. when has it ever been anything else? when has he not been by your side, dealing with your bullshit? rafe cameron had been yours since the moment you met.

with a shaky exhale you nod, leaning into his palm. the sight of you so fragile tears at his heart and rafe draws you in closer. his nose finds home in your hairline and he peppers kisses along your forehead. us.

the revelation didn’t stop the words from spilling out of your mouth, insecurity still pecking at your mind.

“she’s probably easier to deal with.”

“nah, i don’t wan’ easy.”

he pulls back, holding the back of your neck to angle your face towards him. there’s a hardness to his gaze — like the very idea of easy is repulsing him. then he’s smirking and leaning in.

rafe presses a firm kiss to your mouth, tongue parting your lips and swallowing the hiccup of pleasure that slipped out. his leg wedges its way between yours, knee pressed snugly underneath your miniskirt. he’s devouring you completely unforgivingly. without thought, you roll your hips against his knee. the tension in your body melts away as the friction of his jeans meets your covered clit.

“mmf, rafe—”

“i don’t want easy,” his words accented by harsher presses of his leg upward, causing you to choke on air, “i want you. whiny and bratty and beautiful you. got it?”

nodding your head fervently, he smushes his lips against yours. lifting you onto the small counter and shoving a hand up your skirt, his hardness pressing thick and pulsing against your thigh. the kiss so messy and clothes haphazardly being pulled to the side. the spark of finally being seen, finally being acknowledged as his, fuels the moment.

the sex is slow and steady, a promise of commitment and dedication to this messy relationship. to each other. tears of pleasure and happiness collect on your lash line, pretty face scrunched in ecstasy only rafe could provide.

(and topper and kelce took his card and ordered five beers each.)

[ashlynlovestlou]

abby x anxious! virgin! reader

synopsis: abby teaches her an anxiety-ridden virgin girlfriend how to have sex.

cw: NSFW , abby x reader , smut , abby talks you through it , thigh riding , sub! reader , soft dom! abby , afab! reader , dry humping , use of pet names

masterlist

abby's been your girlfriend for a few months now, but you've been putting off having sex with her. solely because of your stupid nerves.

the thought of being naked in front of someone, then hearing your noises and seeing your face and touching your most intimate spots that nobody has reached before. it made you panic just thinking about it.

but abby knew of your fears. she was patient, and she cared about you more than anything on god's green earth.

so when your twice-weekly date came around on a friday night, something felt off. you'd been horny before, and usually you knew how to take care of it, but not quite like this. your legs were tingling and there was an ache where aches shouldn't be.

of course abby, being the observant girlfriend she is, noticed your squirming halfway through the movie the two of you were watching.

"what's wrong, baby?" she asks, looking down at you with a furrowed brow.

"huh? nothing." you respond quickly, crossing your legs and leaning against her shoulder.

abby knew better than to believe you, "you okay? you seem squirmy."

"i'm okay." you respond, a little too quickly. her suspicions only rose because of your soft and nervous tone, "just feel a little weird."

"weird how? you got a stomach ache?"

"no."

"then what–" she stops what she's saying, a shit-eating grin growing on her face, "oh."

you don't respond, biting your bottom lip and unsure what to do. you could sneak away to the bathroom to try to get off on your own. but you know abby has been waiting so patiently for this moment.

"youre horny, yeah?"

your heart sinks in your chest. it took you a moment to realize how she figured it out so quickly. she saw your squirms and the way your thighs flexed every once in a while, trying to create some friction for yourself.

she spreads her thighs apart a bit, creating a perfect manspread. she taps her lap, "come sit. let me take care of it for you."

"abby, i dunno.."

"baby." she says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "i promise i can make you feel so much better than your pillow can. c'mon, sweet pea."

you hesitate, nibbling on your bottom lip. your heart was in your throat, and you were fidgeting with your earlobe. one of your anxious habits.

she tugs your hand away from your ear, kissing your knuckles. she gently tugs you forward into her, "i won't hurt you, sweet girl. c'mon, honey." she guides you by the hips to straddle her lap. she rubs her thumbs up and down the soft plush of your thighs, "let me show you, okay?"

you nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. she takes her shirt off first so that you don't feel embarrassed to do the same. once she's down to her black sports bra she slowly takes yours off too, giving you time to stop her if you wanted.

but you don't, so she keeps going.

once the two of you are both in your underwear, her warm and bulky hands settle on your hips, "you okay?"

you nod, unsure where to put your hands. she notices this and laughs softly, "i'll walk you through it, okay?"

"okay..."

"tell me what you do to your little pillow when you feel like this, baby."

"i.. um.." you struggle to get the words out, your cheeks red from embarrassment, "i put it between my legs."

"hmm.." she hums, "then what?"

"i like.. clamp it there."

she plays with your hair, her entire hand embracing the side of your head, "and it makes you feel good? riding your little pillow?" you nod sheepishly, resting your head on her shoulder, "show me."

"what?"

"i want you to make yourself feel good. i know you wanna." she says, kissing your hairline.

"abby, i dont know how–"

she gives your hips a little squeeze, starting to guide you to grind on her lap. the cloth of her boxers rubs against the sheer fabric of your lacy panties, the feeling alone making you gush. you whimper as you feel yourself getting wetter. you're tempted to get off her lap so she doesn't feel the dampness coming from your cunt. she notices you starting to hover, so she pulls you back down. "don't be embarrassed. i want to see you feel good." she guides your hips to move a bit faster, and you moan in response, "can i touch you?"

you look at her, confused because she's already touching you.

she glances down at your crotch rubbing against her lap, then she looks back up at you, "down there, sweet girl. please, honey. wanna feel how wet you are."

you nod, your nerves starting to dissipate.

she snakes a hand down your stomach, her fingertips sliding into your panties. when the pads of her fingers meet your folds she groans, "oh, baby... you ever been this wet before?"

you shake your head, rubbing yourself against her digits.

"there you go, grind down just like that, mhm."

her words of encouragement make you speed up a little bit. she beams at you, so proud that her girl is finally comfortable enough to let her feel you in such an intimate place.

"gonna go inside, okay?" she says before slipping two of her fingers inside your sopping cunt. you moan at the intrusion, your movements switching from back and forth to up and down.

abby chuckles, kissing your cheek. she's so happy that she can finally see her baby in this light. on her lap, a moaning mess, "you're so pretty, mama."

you smile and open your eyes to look at abby. she pecks your forehead, rubbing tight circles around your swollen bud. you clean around her and she pulls you closer so your chest is flush against hers. she knew you were close before you did, guiding your hips to bounce on her fingers faster.

when you finally come undone you mutter tens of 'thank you's' into her ear. you'd made yourself feel good many times, but you'd never felt quite like this.

"thank you, abby." you whisper to her.

she nods in response, "no need to thank me. next time you feel like that, you come to me, m'kay?"

you hum in agreement, closing your eyes and starting to drift to sleep.

[vivwritesfics]

In Trouble

Max and Charles aren't there. Lando knows what they're not allowed to do while Max and Charles are gone, he just doesn't care.

Norlestappen x reader

warning: smut, p in v, cockwarming, talks of punishment i suppose

Lando's hands gripped her hips as she pushed her fingers through his curls. Just staring into his eyes as Lando stared right back at her. "You're so pretty, Lan," she whispered and tugged on his girls, pulling his head back.

He groaned, grin crossing his face. She leaned forward, rested against his shoulder and kissed at his thick neck. He squeezed her hips just a little tighter, rocking her against his lap.

It was just the two of them home. Charles was in Italy and Max was in England, leaving the two of them by themselves. For the first day, they'd been moping around, ordered in pizza so they could sit against each other on the couch, empty spaces on either side of them.

By day two, they were over it. Max and Charles wouldn't be gone forever, and they could have fun while they were gone.

That was how she ended up on Lando's lap, kissing and sucking bruises into his neck. Low enough that it would be covered up on the upcoming race weekend. But Lando wouldn't cover it up. He'd walk into the paddock wearing something that didn't cover up his neck, walking with his head held high to show off.

"C'mon," Lando whispered, his hands slipping lower. "Can we?"

She stilled against him, pulling her lips away from his neck. "Lando, no," she whispered, lifting her head from his shoulder. "We're not allowed."

That was right, they weren't allowed. On the first day they had been too upset to be needy. But Lando had been sitting with it, letting it stir in him. She was the good one, the one who wouldn't even think about anything like that. Lando was the bad influence, and she knew she couldn't say no to him.

He pouted as he looked down at her. "Please, baby," he whispered, gripping the flesh of her thighs. "They're not gonna know."

Pulling her lip between her teeth, she nodded. She wanted it, wanted him.

Lando held her chin. "You're so good," he whispered and leaned in to kiss her. She knew she was good, it was something she prided herself in. Her cheeks were hot and she grinning as Lando began kissing her neck, pushing her underwear to the side and pushing his fingers inside.

The sex itself was quick. Lando slipped inside of her. He bounced her on top of him, his own hips bucking up. The two of them together, it was quick, needy, desperate. Max and Charles would draw everything out, would have the two of them shaking from overstimulation as they held each other for comfort.

But, now, they had the same goal. They wanted to cum, and that was it. It didn't take long before she clenched around him, finished and becoming sensitive. Lando stilled, spilling inside of her.

On shaking legs, she went to climb off of him, but Lando held her still. "Hang on," he mumbled, still breathing heavily. She was still clenching around him as she laid her head back against his shoulder.

The two fell asleep like that, sitting on the sofa with Lando still inside of her. Maybe if they knew Max and Charles were coming home, they would have cleaned up a bit. They would have hidden what they were doing.

But Charles and Max were early. A whole day early. Max unlocked the door and let himself and Charles in. Their loves were going to be asleep, they knew. They were going to be in the bed, holding each other with space on either side of them for Max and Charles to slip into.

Bodies tired, the two men walked into the living room. Just a simple glass of water from the kitchen, that was all they wanted. But they got a lot more than that.

At first, the scene in front of them was cute. The two of them cuddled together on the sofa, Lando holding her close. He was drooling on the top of her head, but she didn't need to know that.

Charles and Max stopped. They looked at each other, smiling. But they knew they couldn't leave them on the sofa.

Max was gentle as he removed Lando's arms from around her. He went to lift her up, but both she and Lando let out desperate whines. That was when they saw it, Lando's dick slipping out of her.

Charles and Max looked at each other again. Max set her down and Charles worked on waking up Lando. He pushed his fingers through his hair and then tugged.

Lando's eyes flew open. He looked at the two men in front of him, his eyes wide. "Shit," he muttered under his breath as he looked at them, his lap empty.

"Been busy, Lan?" Charles asked as she began waking up.

She looked around in confusion, taking in her other two boyfriends. Panic overtook her slightly and she wrapped her arms around Max. "It was all Lando!" She cried, lips against Max's cheek. Trying to be sweet, he understood. "He made me do it."

Other hands were on her waist, pulling her away from Max. "It takes two to tango, ma chérie," Charles muttered, shaking his head at her. They had no doubt it was mostly Lando's doing, but she had still played her part.

"You two are in so much trouble," Max said with a grin.

Whimpering, she turned to give Charles the attention she tried to give Max, acting sweet on him. It wouldn't work, everybody knew, but she still tried.

But Lando, he was grinning. His grin matched Max's, and he couldn't wait. He was in so much trouble, and he loved it.

[scarletlizzard]

Inked Desires

Pairing: g!p Natasha x fem! Reader

Tags Minors DNI: smut, Natasha has a dick, also covered in tattoos w/ piercings, buff out of this world, she's hot okay, cunnilingus, handjobish, unprotected sex, breeding yup, alcohol at the beginning

A/N: I'm cheating and putting these two requests together, oops! This is my first time writing something like this, so please be gentle. Also, would really love some feedback on this so I know for the future to either write more like this or just tell me to stop now. Thanks so much for reading and thanks for the requests!! 🩵

Masterlist

~~~

"Here, take this!" Your friend says over the loud music, handing you another cup half filled with a mixture of liquor.

You don't question her and take the cup from her, drinking it down in only two gulps. Kate laughs and cheers as you do, doing the same with the cup she held.

By now, you were a few drinks in, and the house Kate had dragged you to was full of people. This definitely wasn't your type of scene, but as you danced among the bodies in the lowlit living room, you couldn't help but feel grateful she had.

As your hips move against your friend, she leans over to your ear. "She's staring at you again," Kate laughs, and your eyes move to the corner of the room.

There was the stranger of the night, a tall woman who stood out, whose green eyes had been watching your every move since you walked in the door. Her muscular arms were covered with art of all kinds, disappearing up into the sleeves of her shirt. She brought her red cup to her lips again, her face mostly hidden from the light.

Instead of replying, you only continue to dance, this time keeping eye contact with your stranger. The woman watches as your hips sway, your hands traveling your own body as you move to the music. It doesn't take long after that before she's finally striding across the room, standing a head taller than most of the crowd.

When she reaches you, you can finally see the rest of her gorgeous face. Above her sprightly green eyes, you noticed a piercing on her eyebrow, a few on her nose, and one on the bottom lip of the smirk she gave you. As she stands in front of you, you literally have to look up at her, and you realize she was much more toned up close.

"I'm just gonna grab another drink!" Kate raises her voice above the music for the two of you to hear.

"I'll catch up with you later!" You shout back to which she only laughs and shoots you a "Yeah, right," before walking off.

You turn your attention back to the stranger.

"Hi," she smiles.

"Hi," you reply curiously.

"I haven't seen you here before. What's your name?" She asks. Her eyes shamelessly roam the soft features of your face and the curves of your body.

"Y/N... this is my first time here. What's yours?" You ask with a blush on your cheeks. She tucks back her red hair behind one of her ears, revealing to you even more piercings.

You don't know if it's the alcohol or the feeling the stranger ignited in your chest, but you feel compelled to step forward and rest your hand on her muscular bicep. Your finger traces the tattoos that littered the skin there.

"Natasha," she says with a smile. "Wanna go upstairs?" A cock of her eyebrow with the piercing sticking out is enough to get you wet.

***

As soon as the door closes, the two of you are on each other, kissing feverishly. Her hands are under your shirt, touching your skin as she lifts you against the door. Your legs wrap around her hips, and you smile against her lips at how easily she lifted you. She was strong. You could feel her muscles under her tight shirt, squeezing you impossibly close.

But when her tongue slips past your lips, you gasp and pull away, a string of saliva pulling between your mouths.

"What's wrong? Do you need to stop?" She asks with a concerned expression. You look at her with wide eyes.

"No - no, I'm fine, it's just. Is your tongue...?" You didn't know how to ask. She chuckles and ducks her head before looking back at you. Natasha lets her tongue slide across her top lip, and it's then your suspicions are confirmed.

"Split, and yes... it will feel better," Natasha says in a cocky tone, her lips attaching to your neck as she carries you to the bed. You feel your back hit the soft mattress, and she lets go of you to remove your shirt.

"I want to see them all," you breathe out and run your finger over the skin on her arm. She smiles and pulls back, taking off her shirt to reveal she was completely covered. "They're beautiful..." You let your eyes take in the sight of the art, your hands tracing the dark lines and over the grooves of her abs. Natasha is a God.

As she continues to undress you, she kisses as much skin as she can, her lips soft and wet with every touch. When she gets to your breasts, you feel her tongue spread, taking your nipple between the two halves and sucking it.

"Oh- oh fuck," you moan out, suprised at the unfamiliar feeling and how good it felt. Natasha hums and lays you back, kissing down your stomach. When she spreads your legs she looks at you with hungry eyes, seeing how wet you already were.

"All this for me, baby?" She asks, letting a finger move up and down your wet folds. Your body shivers with anticipation. The way she looked at you, the way she looked, you were willing to let this stranger do absolutely anything to you.

"All for you.." You husk back, watching her split tongue wet her lips again.

Natasha kneels down at the edge of the bed and puts your legs over her shoulders, her hands grip your thighs tightly.

"How fucking lucky am I then?" She smirks up at you before placing soft, teasing kisses on your thighs.

You feel her mouth attach to your clit, and the heat in your stomach burns hotter. She licks up your slit, groaning as she tastes you.

"Fuck you taste so good," Natasha moans and let's her tongue lick up to your clit. She let's the two halves spread and rub against you. The new feeling makes you arch your back, your head thrown against the comforter.

"G-God Nat, that feels so good!" You moan and try to squeeze your thighs, but her grip kept your legs spread as she continued to eat you out. The sounds of her mouth against your wet pussy were the most sinful sounds you had ever heard, and the moans leaving your mouth were sounds nobody had ever elicited from you before.

She groans against you, the vibrations causing even more pleasure. "That's it baby," she says in between licks, "Want you to cum all over my face." Natashas tongue moves in two different ways, the coil in your lower stomach twisting up.

Your hands grip the comforter as she moves quicker, and the coil begins to unravel as you come undone

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," your back arches again and your legs tremble around her head as you let out a pornographic moan. Natasha hums agaisnt you as you come, her hands not flinching to hold your thighs apart.

She licks every drop, her tongue swirling around your sensative clit one more time before she lets go and stands up. "Come here," Natasha commands, and with a dizzy mind you sit up, trying to catch your breath. She bends down to take your jaw, kissing you rough and sloppily. You forces you to taste yourself, and her tongue pushes in your mouth, wrapping around your own tongue.

You can smell your own arousal on her face, feeling it wet your nose and lips. You blush, almost embarrassed with how wet this stranger made you.

"Now lets see how well you can ride my cock," Natasha chuckles and pulls back to remove her remaining clothes. Your eyes are settled on her breasts, unable to remove them from the piercings on her nipples. When you can pull yourself away from the sight of the silver metal against pink, you look down to see her remove her underwear. She was hard, painfully hard just from eating you out.

She tosses the boxers in the corner where other random clothes lay, and you gave her a curious look. "It's my room, don't worry. Didn't even know you were in my house, did you, love?" Natasha strides back to the bed and sits with her back against the headboard, pulling you closer to her.

"No, I didn't. I'm sorry... my friend kind of dragged me out tonight," you say with red cheeks, and she kisses you desperately.

"Thank God she did," Nat mumbles against your lips. She lets out a groan as your hand reaches between the two of you to lightly grip her cock, and you could feel how she was already throbbing for you. You begin to move your hand up and down slowly as the kiss turns sloppy, her tongue sliding yours between hers. Natasha revels in the feeling of her in your soft hand, your delicate fingers moving along the veins of erection.

"Shit - that feels so good," she moans into the kiss as your hand movements speed up. Your thumb swipes across the tip, precum dripping out already. You smile at the low moan that leaves her lips and continue to jerk her as you kiss. "I need you, please. Fuck I need to be inside you," she begs, and the sound of her begging was something you wanted to hear again. You take her lower lip between your teeth, sucking on the piercing before letting go with a 'pop'.

"I wanna ride you so bad, Nat.. I'm so wet for you," you whisper and let your kisses trail down to her sharp jaw. You feel her cock twitch in your hand as you speak and she grabs your wrist to stop your hand movements, panting as she does.

Natasha turns you around quickly, groaning at the sight of your ass as you straddle her lap and let her hands guide you onto her thick cock. You slide down slowly, letting out a moan when you feel her filling you up.

"Just relax baby, you're so fucking tight," she mumbles as she watches herself slowly disappear inside of you. She let's out a low moan as she feels your hot cunt swallow her, the back of head hitting the headboard when she feels your walls squeezing her. The feeling alone was enough for her mind to sever ties with reality, the only thought was you.

The sensation has that coil tightening inside of you again. You rest your hands on her toned thighs for support, relishing in the way her muscles flexed underneath your fingertips.

Natashas' hands continue to guide you, and after you had adjusted to her large size, you begin to grind yourself down on her lap.

"Just like that baby, fuck... feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock. You were just made to take me," she groans, her words only driving you to move your hips faster.

Her large hands move to your sides and up your body, groping your skin as she starts to move her hips up to meet yours. The two of you find a rythem together, and soon you find yourself willingly bouncing on her cock. Her hands moved to gather your hair, wrapping it into a fist in her right hand. She tugs on it and pulls your head back, a loud moan leaves your lips at the feeling.

"You like it when I'm rough with you, don't you?" She smirks, tugging your hair again.

"Yes - god, yes, Nat!" You whine as her lips find your neck. She bites down hard on your pulse point, surely leaving a mark, and leaves hot open-mouthed kisses along your skin.

"I know you do, you little slut. Fucking dripping on my cock. You feel how easy I slide in and out of you?" She says and with her left hand she grabs your jaw. "Answer me."

"I'm so wet, you make me so wet," you whine again, feeling her fingers move between your teeth. You suck hard as you look in her eyes, your tongue swirling around spit dripping down your chin. When you bite down, it surprises her, but she only chuckles darkly.

In a second, Natasha had let go of your hair and pushed you down face first onto the mattress. You gasp at the sudden emptiness, but soon after, she's lifting your hips and sliding into you again. Both of you moan at the feeling of how deep she goes.

"Christ, it doesn't matter how long I fuck you. You're just - so - fucking tight," she grunts in between words, her cock drilling you into oblivion. With every thrust you can hear the bedframe hitting the wall, and you can't help the pitiful noises that leave your mouth.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum," You rasp out. A sharp slap on your ass makes you whimper as you feel it begin to sting.

"No, shit, hold it in," Natasha warns. You feel the pressure of her body move on top of you. The piercings on her breasts rub against your back with each powerful thrust, and her arm moves underneath your neck to hold you tightly.

Natasha grunts in your ear as she pounds into you, letting out a moan when she feels your slick cunt tighten around her length. "I'm almost there, baby. Are you gonna be a good girl and come all over my cock?"

You nod the best you can in her tight grip, only able to get out a "Yes," in between gasps.

"You feel so good, Y/N. You want me to cum inside you? Fuck- I wanna fill up your tight little pussy so bad..." She groans against you and her words send you over the edge.

"Oh god, Nat! Please fill me up, please," you beg her, and just the thought of it is enough to let go. Your orgasm ripples through your body, sending shockwaves of pleasure to your core.

Natasha moans loudly as she feels you coating her cock with your cum, and she can no longer hold back. "Fuck- Y/N!" She groans and you whine as you feel her hot load spurting inside of you, her cock twitching as she slows her movements. "Take every.. last.. drop.." She pants as she thrusts a few more times.

The two of you stay like that for a while, her cock inside you as she stills above you. Your head rests against her arm as you attempt to catch your breath. When she removes herself slowly, and you wince at the soreness and empty feeling. Natasha lays next to you and you turn on your side to face her.

"Hi," she chuckles at the exhausted features on your face.

"You just fucked the life out of me and you're going to say... 'hi' ?" You laugh, suprised to see a blush on the strong womans cheeks as she laughs along with you. Your hand reaches out, resting on her stomach and tracing the lines of her tattoos again.

After the two of you clean yourselves up, you begin to dress yourself, feeling her eyes on you as you pull your shirt over your head.

"You don't have to go, you know. I'm not like that," she says gently, and you look up to see her pulling on a pair of jeans. You smile at her kind demeanor and walk over to her.

"I have to take my friend home," you say and lean up on your toes to kiss her cheek. She has to bend down for you to reach her lips, but she doesn't complain.

"Well, maybe I can take you out sometime," Natasha smirks and rests her hands on your waist. You nod as you look up to her.

"I would love that.." You reply honestly, wanting nothing more than to get to know her and count the endless tattoos that cover her body.

[callsigns-haze]

Silly little life

Summary: Hangman skips a mission to be by Y/N's side during a tough labor, and together they welcome their baby girl into the world, showing just how strong their bond is.

Warning: Contains intense depictions of labor pain and emotional distress during childbirth.

Word count: 3476 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader

English is not my first language so I apologies for mistakes

Could be read alone or as part two of Little Life

Part 3

The Dagger squad gathered in the briefing room, the usual air of anticipation hanging thick in the space. Maverick stood at the front, arms crossed over his chest as he looked out at the group. Phoenix leaned back in her chair, her legs casually crossed, while Rooster sat forward, elbows on the table, a curious look on his face. Fanboy and Payback were murmuring something under their breath, probably joking about who’d outfly who on the next mission. Coyote sat closest to the front, sharp-eyed and waiting for instructions. Bob, as usual, was quietly observing from the corner, his ever-attentive gaze locked on Maverick.

But one thing was missing—Jake “Hangman” Seresin.

It wasn’t unusual for Jake to cut it close, swaggering in just as the briefing started, flashing his cocky grin as if the world bent to his timing. But today, he was nowhere to be seen.

Maverick cleared his throat, and the chatter in the room died down, all eyes turning toward him. He gave them a measured look, the kind of expression that immediately told the group something was off.

“I’m going to keep this short,” Maverick began, his voice calm but firm. “As you’ve all noticed, Hangman’s not here.”

Phoenix raised an eyebrow, leaning forward in her chair. “Where is he? It’s not like Jake to miss a briefing.”

Rooster shot her a look, his expression sceptical. “Maybe he’s just late. Hangman never misses a chance to show off.”

Maverick shook his head. “He’s not late. He’s not coming.”

A murmur ran through the squad, surprise rippling across their faces. Payback’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Fanboy exchanged a quick glance with Coyote, who looked genuinely confused.

Bob, ever the quiet one, spoke up from the back, his voice soft but clear. “Why not? What happened?”

Maverick let out a slow breath, his gaze steady. “Jake’s not going to be joining us on this mission. He’s dealing with... important family business.” The way he said it left little room for questions. It was vague, deliberate. He wasn’t going to share more than that, and the squad knew it.

Phoenix frowned, her lips pressed into a thin line as she glanced around the room. “Family business?” she echoed. “Jake never mentioned—”

“He didn’t have to,” Maverick interrupted, his tone kind but firm. “Whatever it is, it’s personal, and it’s not your place to pry. The information only belongs to him and his commanders.”

There was a pause, the weight of the unspoken questions hanging in the air. The Dagger squad wasn’t used to Jake missing missions, especially without an explanation. He was Hangman—their most confident, always-present wingman: bit of a douche too. The idea of him having something outside of flying, something that pulled him away, was almost unimaginable.

Rooster scratched at his chin, his brow furrowed. “Is he okay?”

Maverick’s gaze flickered to Rooster, then to the rest of the squad. “He’s fine,” he reassured them, though his voice held a tone that indicated there was more to the story than he was letting on. “He’ll be back when he’s ready. Until then, you focus on the mission at hand.”

Coyote, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke, his deep voice filled with concern. “So we’re just supposed to carry on without him?”

“That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do,” Maverick replied, his voice sharp. “Hangman knows what he’s doing, and he knows when to step back. Right now, his focus is where it needs to be.”

There was a silence in the room, heavy with unanswered questions. The squad exchanged glances, each one processing the news in their own way. Phoenix looked thoughtful, her mind clearly working through what “family business” could mean for someone like Jake, someone who seemed to live for the thrill of flying and the camaraderie of the squad. Rooster’s expression remained puzzled, though a part of him seemed to respect the privacy Maverick was asking for.

Bob, still calm and collected, nodded quietly to himself. “Understood.”

Maverick gave them all a final, serious look. “Jake will be back when he’s ready. Until then, we move forward. Focus on the mission. That’s all.”

With that, Maverick turned and walked out, leaving the room in a quiet, subdued atmosphere. The Dagger squad sat for a moment longer, absorbing the reality that Hangman wouldn’t be flying with them this time.

But none of them could shake the question lingering in their minds: What kind of family business was important enough to pull Jake Seresin away from the skies?

---

Hours. It felt like you’d been in labor for days instead of hours. Every contraction tore through you, leaving you drenched in sweat, your muscles aching from the strain. The hospital room was dimly lit, the rhythmic beeping of the monitor the only constant in the chaos of your body. You tossed and turned on the bed, trying to find some relief, but nothing seemed to help.

Your hair stuck to your forehead, damp and tangled, and every breath felt labored, like your lungs could barely keep up with the demands of your body. Groaning in discomfort, you shifted again, the cold sheets doing nothing to cool your overheated skin. Your hand gripped the side of the bed as another wave of pain hit, your knuckles white from the pressure.

Jake was beside you, his hand on your arm, trying his best to soothe you. His voice was soft, calm, like he was trying to talk you through a flight manoeuvre. “You’re doing amazing, darlin’,” he whispered, his other hand gently brushing the hair from your face. “Breathe through it, okay? We’re almost there.”

But his words didn’t bring you the comfort they usually did. You were too far gone in the discomfort, the contractions relentless, your body feeling like it was fighting against itself. You groaned again, louder this time, unable to hold back the frustration as the pressure built in your lower abdomen.

“Jake, I can’t—” you panted, squeezing your eyes shut as another contraction took hold. The pain was unlike anything you’d ever felt, a deep, all-consuming force that made you want to scream, cry, or both. You could feel Jake’s hand rubbing soothing circles on your shoulder, but it wasn’t enough.

“I know, baby, I know,” he said softly, his voice tight with worry. “You’re so strong. Just keep going, alright?”

You cracked one eye open, looking at him through the haze of exhaustion. His face was lined with concern, his brow furrowed as he held the small plastic cup of ice chips in his hand. You could tell he was trying to be strong for you, but you could also see the fear in his eyes—the helplessness. He hated seeing you like this, and even though he was doing everything he could, there was nothing that could truly ease your pain.

He brought a spoonful of ice chips to your lips, his touch gentle, careful. “Here, darlin’, try to take a little more,” he urged, but you turned your head slightly, too tired, too uncomfortable to want anything in that moment.

“I don’t want the damn ice,” you snapped, immediately feeling bad as soon as the words left your mouth. But you were so frustrated, so overwhelmed with the never-ending discomfort.

Jake didn’t take it personally. He just nodded, setting the cup down on the table beside him before leaning in, his hand still resting on your arm. “I know, sweetheart,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’re doing great. I’m right here.”

You groaned again, a deep, guttural sound that came from the pit of your stomach as your body prepared for another contraction. The pressure in your hips and lower back was unbearable, and no amount of repositioning or soothing touches could make it stop.

You tossed your head back against the pillow, panting, desperate for this to end. You could feel the sweat trickling down your neck, your whole body shaking with the effort of holding on. Every time you thought the pain had peaked, it got worse, and your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to ride through it.

Jake’s hand tightened around yours, his thumb brushing softly over your knuckles. He was trying to help, you knew that, but nothing he did seemed to touch the raw intensity of what you were feeling. You could hear him murmuring something under his breath—soft encouragements, maybe—or a prayer that this would be over soon.

Your grip on his hand tightened as another wave hit, and you groaned again, your whole body arching off the bed with the sheer force of it. It felt like you were being pulled apart, every muscle in your body straining as you fought to stay in control. But it was slipping. You were slipping.

“Jake,” you panted, your voice breaking. “I—I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

He leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours for a moment. “You’re almost there, baby. I promise. Just a little longer, okay? You’ve got this.”

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to hold onto his words and let them carry you through. But right now, it felt like there was no end in sight. Just more pain, more pressure, more of this endless battle between your body and the life you were about to bring into the world.

But through the haze of discomfort and exhaustion, you could feel his presence, solid and unwavering, anchoring you to the moment. And somehow, in the middle of all this chaos, that was enough to keep you going.

Even if the ice chips weren’t.

The hours dragged on, and it felt like you were stuck in a whirlwind of pain and exhaustion. Every contraction was a tidal wave, crashing over you, pulling you under. You’d lost track of time, your body trembling with the effort it took just to breathe through each one. Jake hadn’t left your side, his hand gripping yours firmly, as if he could somehow share in the pain.

The nurse's calm voice broke through the fog, "It’s almost time to push, Y/N."

Your breath hitched as another contraction seized you, so powerful that you couldn’t stop the low groan that escaped your lips. Your muscles were tight, your back arching against the bed. Every fibre of your being was screaming for this to end, for the overwhelming pressure to stop.

"Almost time?" you muttered between pants, your voice ragged from hours of groaning and yelling. "Feels like I’ve been at this forever."

Jake leaned closer, his face full of concern, his hand never leaving yours. “You’re almost there, sweetheart. Just a little longer,” he whispered, though you could hear the tension in his voice. You could see the worry etched on his face, the furrow in his brow. He was scared, even if he was doing his best to hide it from you.

The doctor’s voice cut through the haze. "Okay, Y/N, the baby’s almost here. I need you to push when you feel the next contraction, alright?"

You nodded, your chest heaving as you tried to gather every last ounce of strength left in your body. When the next wave hit, you bore down, groaning through clenched teeth as you pushed with everything you had.

"Good! That’s it," the doctor encouraged, her voice steady. "Keep going."

But the pressure—it felt like you were being torn in two. "Oh my God," you groaned, panting. "This baby… this baby has your fat head!"

You heard Jake choke back a laugh, his voice tight with emotion. "Hey now, darlin’, let’s not go blaming me for that," he teased, trying to lighten the mood, but you weren’t in the mood for jokes.

You growled through another push, your face contorting in pain. "I swear, Jake, if this kid has your big-ass head, I’m never letting you forget it!"

He kissed your forehead, his voice soft but laced with a chuckle. “You can blame me all you want, but you’re doing amazing, baby. You’re so strong.”

Another contraction ripped through you, and you squeezed his hand so hard you were sure you’d break it. You could barely focus, barely think beyond the burning pressure and the overwhelming need to push. But even through the haze of agony, the words tumbled out before you could stop them.

"I swear to God, Jake, I’m never doing this again!” you groaned. “Never!"

He nodded, his eyes filled with warmth and concern as he whispered soothingly. "Whatever you say, sweetheart. Whatever you say."

But the next contraction hit, and despite the pain, you pushed harder, feeling the unbearable pressure of the baby moving down. The pain was white-hot, and you let out a strangled cry, your body trembling from the effort.

"Oh my God!" you gasped, tossing your head back against the pillow. "I hate you, Jake! This is your fault!"

Jake squeezed your hand, his voice gentle but steady. "You can hate me all you want, darlin’. You’re doing incredible. Almost there."

You groaned again, guilt mixing with the frustration. You didn’t mean any of it—not really—but the pain had twisted everything inside you, and you couldn’t help but lash out. The guilt made it worse, made your heart ache even through the physical agony.

"I’m sorry," you gasped between ragged breaths. "I don’t… I don’t mean it, I just—" another contraction cut you off, and you screamed, pushing as hard as you could. The burn was intense, and you could feel the baby’s head beginning to crown.

"You’re okay, you’re okay," Jake murmured, his forehead resting against yours now, his voice a grounding force in the chaos. "You’ve got this. You’re almost there, sweetheart."

You bore down again, your whole body trembling as you pushed with everything you had left. The pain was searing, and you could feel the baby’s head stretching you, the sensation overwhelming.

"I swear this kid has your huge head!" you groaned again, your voice a mix of pain and humour as you struggled to keep going.

The doctor’s voice cut through, sharp and encouraging. "One more big push, Y/N. The head’s almost out."

You clenched your jaw, took a deep breath, and pushed again, harder than before. The pressure built to an unbearable peak, and then—

Suddenly, the pain shifted. There was a release, and the tension in your body eased. You gasped for air, your heart pounding in your chest, and then, you heard it—a sharp, clear cry that echoed through the room.

The baby’s first cry.

Tears welled up in your eyes as the doctor held up the tiny, wriggling form for you to see. "It’s a girl!" she announced, and for a moment, all the pain, all the exhaustion, melted away. Your heart swelled as you looked at her—your baby girl.

Jake let out a shaky breath beside you, his voice breaking as he whispered, "We have a daughter."

You watched through tear-filled eyes as the nurse cleaned her up, bringing her over and placing her carefully in your arms. She was so small, her little face scrunched up, her tiny fists waving in the air. You felt Jake’s arm around your shoulders, his hand resting gently on your baby girl’s head as the two of you gazed down at her.

All the pain, all the frustration and discomfort—it didn’t matter anymore. You smiled softly, still breathless, tears rolling down your cheeks as you cradled your daughter to your chest.

"She’s perfect," you whispered, your voice filled with awe.

Jake leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple. "You’re perfect," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "You did it, darlin’. You brought our little girl into the world."

As the room quieted, the nurses moved about with practiced ease, cleaning and tidying up, but all your attention was on Jake and your baby girl. After a moment of letting you hold her, Jake gently reached down, his large hands cradling her tiny form as he took her from your arms, holding her with such tenderness that it made your heart ache. The way he looked at her—with awe, love, and the purest joy—made your breath catch.

But as soon as she left your arms, a wave of emotion hit you like a tidal wave. You were still shaky, still exhausted from labor, but now a new weight settled over your chest. The words you’d shouted, the anger, the frustration—all of it came flooding back. You hadn’t meant any of it, but you couldn’t shake the guilt that twisted in your stomach.

You looked over at Jake, watching him coo softly to your baby girl, his thumb brushing over her cheek as she wriggled slightly in his arms. The sight should have filled you with nothing but joy, but instead, tears welled up in your eyes, spilling down your cheeks before you could even try to hold them back.

You wiped at your face, embarrassed by the sudden flood of emotions, but it only made the tears come harder. The sobs were quiet at first, but soon, your shoulders shook with the force of them, each breath hitching in your chest.

Jake’s head whipped toward you immediately. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice soft but urgent. He moved closer, still holding your daughter, his brow furrowed in concern. “Are you in pain? What’s going on?”

You shook your head, unable to speak through the lump in your throat. You tried to take a deep breath, but it only made the sobs come harder. The guilt weighed on you, heavy and crushing, and you couldn’t stop the words that tumbled out.

“I’m sorry, Jake,” you choked, your voice barely a whisper through the tears. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Jake’s eyes softened, and he knelt beside you, carefully balancing your daughter in his arms while reaching out to take your hand. “Sorry? Darlin’, you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

But you couldn’t stop. The guilt gnawed at you, every word you’d said during labor echoing in your mind. “I yelled at you. I—I said such awful things. I blamed you, and it wasn’t your fault. I didn’t mean any of it, Jake, I swear, I didn’t.” Your voice broke again, tears streaming down your face as you looked at him through blurry eyes.

Jake’s face softened even more, his expression full of understanding and love. “Sweetheart,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “You just went through hell bringing our little girl into the world. You were in pain. I know you didn’t mean any of that.”

You sniffled, wiping at your cheeks, but the tears wouldn’t stop. “But I—” you started, but Jake leaned in closer, cutting you off gently.

“No buts,” he whispered, his voice firm but filled with warmth. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for. I love you, and I’m so damn proud of you. You were incredible, Y/N. And our little girl is here because of you.” His gaze flickered down to the tiny bundle in his arms, her little eyes closed as she slept soundly.

You let out a shaky breath, your sobs quieting but still present as you watched Jake cradle your daughter so carefully. “I just… I feel so bad,” you whispered, your chest still tight with guilt. “I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

Jake leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before he pulled back. “Darlin’, you could’ve called me every name in the book, and I still wouldn’t hold it against you. You brought our baby into the world. That’s all that matters.”

You looked up at him, your vision still blurred with tears, but his words cut through the guilt, soothing the ache in your heart. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the way he looked at you with so much love and admiration.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice shaky but filled with emotion.

“I love you too,” Jake replied softly, his eyes never leaving yours as he gently shifted your daughter back into your arms. The warmth of her tiny body against yours made your heart swell, the tears still slipping down your cheeks, but this time, they were different. The guilt was still there, but it was fading, replaced by the overwhelming love you felt for your little family.

Jake sat beside you on the bed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you held your daughter between you. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple. “And now we’ve got this perfect little girl. We did it, darlin’.”

You nodded, sniffling as you looked down at your baby, the small miracle you and Jake had brought into the world. And despite the exhaustion, despite the tears, you couldn’t help but smile through it all. You had your family, and that was everything.

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Part 3

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: Read Between the Lines

Request: anonymous said: "I was wondering maybeeee if you could write some protective bf Tyler ( because i would be swooning ) maybe either someone keeps hitting on her so he steps in or someone maybe in another storm chasing crew is being mean so he steps in and defends her <3 idk"

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: language, mild fighting i guess?? slight angst

A/N: sorry I haven't been posting as frequently! I started work up again and ya girl has been BUSY. Anyyywayyy, thank you for reading! please keep the comments coming! I love to see all your requests and I promise i'm getting to them as quickly as i can :)

“Need anything?” Tyler asked, leaning against the hood of the truck in a way that shouldn’t be as adorable as it is. 

“I’m good,” you said, offering him a gentle smile before brushing a few loose strands of hair from your sticky forehead. 

“You wanna come in with me then?” 

You shook your head– the idea of sitting in a stale diner with no AC was just about as unbearable as the thought of driving another second. “No, I think I’ll stretch my legs out here.”

“Okay,” he said in a tone that indicated you’d be missing out. He gave the truck a pat before adding, “We won’t be long.”

“Take your time,” you assured him. 

He offered one final nod before turning and following Dani, Boone, and Lily across the parking lot. Dexter also stayed behind. Instead of shitty diner food, he’s opted to take a nap inside the RV accompanied by his noise canceling headphones and a fan blasting right at his face. 

You were exhausted, down to your bones. You and the rest of the team had driven nearly six hours that day tracking a cell that hadn’t ended up amounting to anything. You were stiff and tired and irritable– just like everyone else. But you hoped that some time alone outside might help at least level out your mood.

You extended your arms over your head, groaning when you felt something lightly pop in your back, before craning your neck from side to side. The air was stifling– thick and humid with little to no breeze for any sort of relief. The heat hadn’t broken in nearly a week, and unfortunately for just about everyone, the truck’s AC didn’t work as well as it used to. 

The parking lot to the diner was relatively empty. Aside from the crew’s RV and truck, there was an SUV parked in one of the front spots and a small sports car with a steady cloud of smoke pouring out the cracked window.  

You let your eyes wander past the diner parking lot at the sprawling field across the road. The windmills were agonizingly still in the stale air– like even they were desperate for some reprieve. 

Your eyes fell shut as you took a few deep breaths, trying to get your bearings. 

Your peace lasted for about thirty seconds. And then the sound of blaring music and screeching tires had you turning your pulsing head. Instantly, you rolled your eyes at the sight of the familiar vans pulling into the lot beside you. 

Merrill Anderson and his crew started chasing in the area almost thirteen months ago. You knew because each and every moment that you’d known about their existence had been more painful than the last. 

Anderson was a meteorologist out of Texas that wore a cowboy hat almost as big as his mouth and an inflated ego to match it. He made sure you and everyone else around him knew that he had a PhD, and therefore, in his opinion, was automatically more entitled to chase. Him and Tyler had hated each other from the moment they met while chasing an EF2 in Arkansas– their feud only grew each time their paths crossed. 

Anderson was grinning at you through the window as soon as his van rolled by. You did your best to avert your gaze– hoping that lack of eye contact would avoid any sort of conversation. 

Unfortunately, you weren’t so lucky. 

“There she is,” he announced, boots scuffing against the dirt parking lot as he hopped out from the driver’s seat. 

“Now what're you doin’ out here all by yourself? Your team finally leave you behind? Realized they didn’t need two uni drop outs on their team?” he asked, tone already dripping in sarcasm. 

He was an antagonizer who got off on provoking others. And although you and Anderson had your fair share of unpleasant exchanges, you knew he only ever bothered you to get under Tyler’s skin. 

Tyler’s biggest weakness was that he was endlessly protective of the people he loved. You saw this particular trait as a strength– but you knew that Anderson fed off Tyler's anger, which you could only imagine was his intention now. Thankfully Tyler was in the diner– hopefully gorging on raspberry pancakes as you spoke. Because if he were to see Anderson talking to you– you knew this whole interaction would escalate quickly. 

“Anderson,” you sighed, leaning casually against the hood of Tyler’s truck. The smile you forced on your face was almost painful. “So lovely to see you, as always.”

You hoped if you withheld from his taunting, he might move on quicker. 

Instead, to your despair, he backtracked from his van to stand across from you. “You guys go ahead,” he instructed his crew. “I’m gonna spend some time with my friend here.”

They nodded before heading towards the diner, leaving the two of you alone. 

“You should teach that hillbilly- boyfriend of yours some manners. If I remember correctly, last time I saw him, he drove through a puddle to splash me.”

You bit back a grin as you recalled the moment he was referring to. “I’m sure it wasn’t on purpose,” you lied (it was absolutely on purpose). 

Anderson chuckled. “You know– I don’t know if we’ve ever had a conversation just us, without him lingering around. You’re much more pleasant. Both in conversation and in looks.” 

You felt a chill run down the length of your spine at his words– but the way he was looking at you was infinitely worse. You watched as his eyes flickered from your face to your chest– currently more exposed than you would like in the tanktop you wore in the stifling Oklahoma heat. You wished you had grabbed a shirt to cover up in– but they were all either dirty and packed away somewhere in your duffel. 

Clearing your throat, you stood up straight and crossed your arms, attempting to shield yourself from his lingering gaze. 

“Oh, hey now darlin’, don’t cover up. I’ve been stuck in the van all day with these jokers, this is the most action I’ve gotten all summer.” 

You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks as you tried desperately to remain level headed. Anderson was a jerk– and he’d definitely make you uncomfortable… but you couldn’t imagine that he’d ever actually do anything to harm you.  

Then again, you’d never interacted with him for longer than a minute or two with Tyler and the rest of the crew at your side. This was uncharted territory that you didn’t care to explore. You felt your earlier determination to handle him on your own fade away with uneasiness.  

You turned your head towards the diner, hoping you might catch Tyler’s gaze through the window or something. Of course you were too far away for that– all you caught was the glare from the sun. 

“You know I’m not used to seeing you in clothes like this, usually you’re all covered up,” Anderson whistled. 

As soon as he took a step closer, you instinctively moved too. Except your legs collided with Tyler’s truck– preventing you from actually going anywhere. For some dumb reason, you felt obligated to hold your ground– to not let him see how uncomfortable he was really making you. But with each passing comment, you grew more and more fearful. 

Anderson now had his body angled towards you with a look that could only be described as predatorial. “God, it’s true you don’t know what you’re missin’ til you see it. We should have these heat waves more often if it means I get to take a look at this every day.”

You tried and failed to remain stoic. You wanted to yell– to tell him to shut the fuck up. But for some reason, your body and brain weren’t connecting. 

“C’mon, where is she?” he taunted. “You know, your sweet side has its perks. But I much prefer ‘em a little spicy.” 

He took another few steps closer to you. It was subtle, but you noticed. Anderson was so obviously getting a kick out of whatever the hell he was doing here, and you were doing a piss-poor job at withholding from it, like you’d originally planned. 

“Why don’t you come on back in my van with me,” he winked. “I’m not sure how your hillbilly does it, but I can show ya a real good time.” 

Get away from me, you wanted to scream. But your mouth wouldn’t move– your voice was lost somewhere inside of you. And all you could get your body to do was lean away from him slightly. 

“Don’t be like that, darlin’,” he cooed. He was so close that you could almost smell his breath. Your brain told you to fight– to shove or kick or do something to get him away from you. But all those previous instincts you had to fight back faded into paralyzing fear. 

Anderson reached across the space between you to move a loose strand of hair from your face as you began to tremble. “And don’t be afraid, baby doll. I don’t bite… too hard. Owens ain’t gotta know–”

“Anderson!” 

Your head snapped at the sound of a familiar voice… Not just any familiar voice– Tyler’s voice. He was currently storming across the parking lot with a look of pure hatred across his face. The second his eyes landed on you– undoubtedly and obviously terrified, that anger only intensified. 

“Get the fuck away from her,” he demanded. His eyes were narrowed and shockingly darker than their normal shade of sage. 

“Here he is!” Anderson taunted. “Her douche bag in shining armor.”

You couldn’t help but notice Anderson didn’t step away. In fact, if anything, he looked like he was about to step closer, just to really test his limits. But then, to your relief, you saw Boone, Dani, and Lily storming out of the diner in Tyler’s wake– all coming to your rescue. 

In an instant, Tyler was there, stepping between you and Anderson– forming the protective barrier you needed to finally feel safe again. Without thinking, you fisted the back of Tyler’s T-shirt for good measure. 

“Easy, Rambo,” Anderson sneered. “I was just tellin’ your sweetheart here how much I enjoy her new look. Who knew she had all this hidin’ under those baggy shirts? That the reason you keep her hangin’ around, Owens? I knew she had to be good for something–”

But Anderson didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. Because before you knew what was happening, Tyler was lunging forward and connecting his fist with Anderson’s nose. 

The crack as it broke was deafening, you released Tyler’s shirt to cover your mouth in shock. Tyler hit him with enough force that he went staggering back a few steps, his hands instantly moving to cup his face. 

Tyler was still shaking off his hand when Anderson stood up straight, blood pouring out of both nostrils. 

“Damn, that bitch must be as good as she looks if she’s worth all this,” Anderson continued to taunt. Even with a broken nose, he didn’t back down.  

Without even hesitating, Tyler moved to strike again. But as soon as he did, Boone and Dani were both stepping in front of him to break things up. 

“Easy, T–” Boone said. 

“Stay the fuck away from her,” Tyler snarled in warning, pointing his finger over Boone’s shoulder. You’d never quite heard his voice so malicious or threatening before, and even though it was in your defense, it sent shivers down your spine.   

Suddenly, Lily grabbed your hand from the side, causing you to flinch. “It’s okay,” she said, tugging you a few steps away from the chaos– like she knew how badly you needed space from everything. “You alright?”

You nodded, flustered.  

“Next time you want to settle this without your little army of strays, you let me know, Owens. And next time you want a good time, Y/N, you know where to find me,” Anderson said, offering you a wink that churned your stomach. With that, he wiped some blood from his nose and began sauntering back towards his van. 

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Tyler snarled, still being physically held back by Dani and Boone. 

“Yeah, and he’d deserve it. But he’s not worth catchin’ a charge,” Boone said. “It’s been a slow season and we don’t got the kind of money to bail you out of jail.”

“Take a breath, T,” Dani said. “He’s walkin’ away. Take a breath.”

You watched Tyler slowly come back to his body. He listened to Dani and took a deep breath– his shoulders visibly relaxing when he exhaled. It seemed to be enough for his friends to finally release him. 

As soon as he was free from their grasp, Tyler turned around– his attention landing on you. “Are you okay?” he asked, his previously menacing voice now laced with so much care and concern. He stood in front of you– his body blocking all views of Anderson and their vans. His hands moved to cup your cheeks gently. 

“I’m fine,” you said, attempting to convince yourself more than anyone else. But even you knew it didn’t sound convincing. Your voice subtly cracked on the final word. 

Tyler stroked his thumb along your skin. The look on his face told you he didn’t quite believe you as his eyes flickered down to your trembling hands. Thankfully he didn’t ask more. 

“I gotta say that was a nasty right hook, T,” Boone said, clapping Tyler on the back as he approached. “I didn’t know you had it in ya.”

“What’d that asshat say to you?” Lily asked. “You looked really shaken up when we saw you out the diner window.”

“Nothing,” you mumbled, too embarrassed to repeat his taunts. You were shocked by how self-conscious you suddenly felt with everyone’s eyes on you. Anderson’s previous words had made you incredibly aware of every inch of yourself– like there was an electrical current humming underneath the surface of your skin. 

“Just the usual shit,” you tried to brush it off.  

You felt grateful when they didn’t push. 

Eventually, the crew disassembled– everyone focused on getting their stuff together to hit the road again. Anderson didn’t reemerge from his van, but as you sat idly in the passenger seat of Tyler’s truck, you didn’t take your eyes off from where it was parked– like you were anticipating some sort of retaliation. 

You remained hidden from the team– feeling so awkward and uncomfortable– like you didn’t want to be perceived or noticed by anyone. And you hated that Anderson’s words were the ones to make you feel that way. You couldn’t find any shirts in your duffel bag that weren’t disgusting. And currently you didn’t have the time or patience to dig through your second bag in the RV. So instead, you wrapped your arms awkwardly over your chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible just as Tyler climbed into the front seat. 

“Everyone else is riding in the RV, it’s just us,” he said, eyes lingering on you. 

“Okay,” you said, trying your best to sound casual. You wondered if he ordered everyone in the RV so that you’d feel more comfortable. You made a mental note to thank him for that later, he was always so good at reading between the lines.  

Tyler instantly noticed your uneasiness. “Baby, what’d he say to you?” 

You shrugged, refusing to meet his gaze out of sheer embarrassment. “I mean, I think you caught the gist of it at the end there… Just a lot of that.”

You heard his loud exhale. “Just say the word and I’ll barge into that stupid van and kill him right now.”

The corner of your lip tugged into a small smile. “I just want you to stay here,” you admitted. 

He nodded solemnly. Without another word, Tyler passed you something he had scrunched up in his fist. It was one of his T-shirts– like he knew you wanted to cover up without even having to say it. You took the shirt– the thanks you wanted to offer him remained stuck in your throat, but Tyler didn’t seem to mind. 

Instead, he pretended to fiddle with the radio while you silently slipped the shirt on. Almost instantly, you felt like you could relax underneath the fabric of his clothes. 

You curled your arms around yourself and tucked your knees to your chest. When Tyler asked if you were ready to head out, you nodded without another word. 

…

It was only seven when you arrived at the motel. Tyler went into the lobby to book the rooms while everyone else hung back. Boone and Lily were going on and on about using the pool later that night, but once you’d grabbed your bags from the truck, you sort of tuned it all out. 

Tyler found you sitting on the curb once he’d passed out everyone else’s room keys. He picked up your duffel from the ground before speaking for the first time in almost an hour. 

“You ready for bed?”

You nodded, offering him your best attempt at a convincing smile.  

“C’mon,” he motioned his head to the left. “We’re upstairs.”

Tyler led the way to your room– and even though this was a dingy motel, you’d never seen anything more perfect. The shades were dark, the AC worked, and there was a single, plush-looking queen bed in the middle of the room just screaming your name. 

Tyler let you shower first. And when you emerged from the bathroom, all the sweat and grime finally washed from your skin, he was gone. But in his place, he’d laid out one of his T-shirts and a pair of his boxers on the bed for you to use. You almost teared up at the sight of just how thoughtful he was… Still reading between the lines. 

You’d spent the entire duration of your shower trying to convince yourself that what had happened earlier wasn’t that big of a deal. Anderson was a jerk– of course he was going to say some jerk-ish things. It shouldn’t have been a surprise– and yet, you couldn’t shake the discomfort you felt. It was like all the words he’d said to you had nestled underneath your skin and made a home for themselves. 

In an attempt to shake the thoughts away, you quickly shrugged on Tyler’s clothes before sitting on the edge of the bed and wrapping your arms around yourself. 

Almost as soon as you sat down, you heard the front door to the motel open up. Tyler stepped into the room carrying his own bag and a couple of water bottles he must’ve grabbed for the two of you. 

“Better?” he asked, handing you one. 

You nodded and cracked it open. “Much.”

Tyler sighed before joining you on the edge of the bed. “Baby, are you sure you’re okay?” 

“I-” you started and then stopped. Your hands were shaking, but you jumped when you felt Tyler’s hand close around yours, steadying them. His touch gave you just an ounce of courage to speak. 

“It wasn’t even anything that bad–” you admitted. “I meant it earlier, you heard the worst of it… I just, I don't know, I can't explain it. But everything he said made me feel so gross… and dirty, and…” And, well, you didn’t quite know what else. Words were hard to come by tonight. 

“Oh, baby,” Tyler exhaled. He released your hand to wind his arm around your shoulders, tugging you to his chest instead.  

It wasn’t until he shushed you that you even realized you were crying, but it came out in a rush. You clung to him, instantly impressed by his ability to just make you feel so much safer. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. 

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he assured you, only squeezing tighter. 

“I don’t know why this bothered me so much–” 

“Because Anderson is an asshole and he intentionally said some gross shit to shake you up,” he answered for you. “You’re allowed to be upset by that.” 

You exhaled against his shirt, and when you licked your lips, you tasted salt. 

“I’m the sorry one,” he said. 

“What?” you shook your head. “You don’t have to be sorry–”

“I should have been there.”

“You were there,” you reminded him. “Unless I blacked out or something and I was really the one who punched him in the nose…”

Tyler chuckled softly, you felt the vibration against your chest– instantly soothing you. 

You sighed after a moment, trying to decide if you wanted to share what was really bothering you. You bit the inside of your cheek. It was so tempting to keep it to yourself, but more tempting than that was the idea of finally feeling a little more at ease again after just telling Tyler the truth. 

“I just–” you paused again. “I–” 

“Hey,” he said. You looked up at him briefly. “It’s just me.” 

That was the problem– it was Tyler. And you didn’t want Tyler thinking less of you because of what had happened. 

“I didn’t fight back,” you said quietly. “I just froze up– it was like I couldn’t even think straight. And he kept going and going, and I just stood there– taking it.”

Tyler ran his hand up and down your arm reassuringly. “What are you talking about?”

“It just felt like…” your voice tapered off. 

Tyler waited a moment before asking gently, “Like what?” 

“It just felt like I didn’t do anything to stop it,” you whispered so quietly you weren’t even sure he’d heard you. “Like I let it happen.”

“Baby,” Tyler sighed. “Baby, no. Anderson is such a jackass, it wouldn’t have mattered what you said–”

“But I could have told him to get the fuck away from me–”

“You were just trying to keep yourself safe. Baby, we can’t control how we react when we’re scared. It’s fight or flight–”

“Or freeze,” you mumbled, embarrassed. 

“Or freeze. I’m pretty sure fawning is one too, now,” he said. “But it doesn’t matter– what matters is you can’t control that you froze. Just like–”

“Just like you couldn’t control punching him in the face?” you asked. 

You glanced up just in time to see Tyler’s lips tug into a smile. “Exactly,” he said. 

“I just wish my fear reaction was a little more effective,” you pouted. “Freezing didn’t do much.”

You let your eyes fall shut when Tyler tugged you closed to his chest. “I guess it’s a good thing you have a douchebag in shining armor to come help whenever you need it,” he smirked. 

“Thanks for protecting me,” you said quietly. 

“I’ll always protect you, you know that,” he said, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head. 

You smiled against his chest. You really did know that. “And thanks for punching him in the nose.”

Tyler snorted. “Anderson’s had that coming for a long time.”