#house training an older puppy

[christ-with-a-why]

i got a puppy and she's obviously adorable but oh my god i'm exhausted

[doll-for-you-11]

Dripping at the idea of my perfect relationship.

Sweet guy, older than me, gentlemanly as can be. Opens doors, pulls out my chair, helps tie my shoes. My mom loves him, he dresses nicely, he's polite, he holds my hand, drapes an arm around my waist in public. Kisses my hair when I do something cute. Gentle, sweet, caring...but thats only in public (or when something is wrong).

The second the front door closes, Im nothing but a pathetic rape doll to him. If I'm not naked and on my knees within 30 seconds of the door locking, Im whipped and edged for hours, no hope of cumming for the next week.

I do not have a name when we're alone. Slut, whore, puppy, cunt, any degrading name he can think of. Even if nothing remotely sexual is happening. He's cooking dinner for us and asks for a plate from the cupboard behind me. "Give me a plate my little Slut", we're out of milk "Puppy, add milk to the shopping list".

Randomly without warning gripping my hair and throwing me over the arm of the couch just to slap my ass and run his fingers through my pussy to check how wet I am. (I'm always soaked). Just to let me go and walk away again, leaving me panting and desperate for pleasure I know I don't deserve.

But he's still kind, he still loves me, so he permits me pleasure on his own terms. Eating me out, but only if he continues until Im a sobbing shaking oversensitive mess. Allowing me to cum, but only if I've "been good" although the definition of "good" will change by the hour. Spending days edging me, coating my tits in his cum to walk around the house all day proudly showing it off, only to tell me Im only allowed to cum if I'm able to do so from grinding on his dirty work boots.

Chained, Collared, Caged, Flogged and Degraded as my natural place in our home. Knowing that no one besides us knows how pathetic of a little whore I am behind closed doors. Unable to function if Im not being used in some way.

Fucked dumb every night so rough that at this point the soreness in my legs and cunt are permanent. Trained over time so well that my mind melts away the second I step over the doorstep into the house. Any semblance of consciousness gone in an instant. Nothing left but a perfect little fuck toy, more than eager to display my holes for his pleasure.

[tender-rosiey]

What would happen if gojo has 2 babies? And they both start crying at the same time and poor gojo has to find a solution in this situation 🥲 his younger baby that is only months old starts crying which makes the older sibling that's 2 years older wake up and starts crying 😭

little voice — gojo satoru x f!reader

you’re on a girls’ vacation. it’s okay. it’s cool.

but it isn’t.

throughout his entire life of fighting curses, emotional trauma, technique training, and unending migraines, he has never felt so much stress like he does right now.

his two kids are truly angels: full of kindness, compassion and—as expected of a child of gojo satoru—full of mischief.

they also share the same amount of love he has for you and, of course, even more. so separate two kids who adore their mother and you get chaos.

satoru just found out that the one who keeps the balance in the house is you, and thinking back about it, it should’ve been obvious because everyone in this house listens to you.

for example, one time when you were out on a simple visit to nanami to take some of the sweet bread he has, you had strictly told satoru to put the two kids to sleep at 8:30 exactly.

he thought it’s too early, but then you explained to him that s/n sleeping gave him time and freedom to look after your baby daughter who was, admittedly, a handful that would not sleep unless she was carried.

so satoru obediently listened, or at least he tried to.

a shameful failed trial at that.

in his defense, what was he supposed to do when s/n gave him puppy eyes asked for a mere 10 minutes more, say no? of course not!

so, like the great father he is, he gave him a couple more minutes, and nothing will make satoru regret his decision since to him his son’s smile is worth the world.

…except maybe the chandelier that is now on the floor and his precious baby daughter who just took one the biggest poops he has known of and his son who is panicking about how to clean this mess before you come home.

and come home you did and to all this mess.

swiftly, you picked up your daughter and changed her diaper, even making her giggle and squeal in between.

then you hugged your son and cleaned up the shattered glass together and disposed of the chandelier. lastly, you stood in front of your husband with a big frown after you’ve put the kids to sleep.

satoru could swear that he couldn’t fall more in love with you. hell, he could even twirl you around and kiss you breathless, but he feels like that would just lead him to the couch.

so he works to butter you up first before trying anything, “hey my sweet cute honeypie—“

you simply quirk an eyebrow.

and he falls to his knees, “I am sorry! I just couldn’t resist his puppy eyes! you should’ve seen them; he looked so cute!”

“I saw them a million times before he was even born, ‘toru.”

your husband gasps, “how!?”

“our son is an exact copy of you, sweetie.”

so yeah that was one of too many times, and if it isn’t apparent that you are the mediator then satoru wants to let the world know that even his students listen to you.

like that one time at school when the first years were caught up fighting with each other, the second years were trying to pull them apart, and satoru was too busy cackling at them while holding d/n that no one noticed panda’s little tail being—god knows why—on fire, not even panda himself.

that was until your precious son tugged at your husband’s shirt and pointed at panda, saying a simple sentence (phrase), “papa, panda fire.”

satoru’s eyes zero on panda then they widen, before he gapes, “oh shit, you’re right!”

“bad word!”

“sorry!”

however, despite satoru almost bolting to put out the fire, panda was finally able to smell it and hummed, “something’s being cooked.” then he looked at his tail, “oh it’s me.”

hit the panic button.

“I am being cooked!” he screams and starts running around, “panda meat doesn’t taste good; I promise!”

the rest start running after him with the intention to help, but panda could only translate it into one thing as he screamed, “don’t eat me!!”

“no one is gonna eat you, dumbass!!” maki yelled but to no avail as no one could get to the panicked panda.

your husband is running as well, half taking photos and videos and half ensuring that d/n does not fall from his hands—considering how she keeps giggling, squealing, and wriggling her entire body.

ijichi took matters into his own hands and called the only person he knows will be able to solve this.

“hello?”

“panda is on fire, the kids are running after him, and gojo is just recording!” he wails, eyes frantically following said people then straying to a particularly small person, “also s/n is trying to eat the grass.”

“what?!”

and like lightning, you’re on the field. you lightly scold s/n and tell him to cover his ears.

you turn to the walking fire hazard and scream, “everyone stop! and panda get over here!”

“yes ma’am!”

he stands still in front of you, almost ignoring his ‘fiery’ tail. you effectively put it out and ruffle his fur until he calms down. the others take turns in greeting you and getting their daily dose of motherly hugs.

your son sprints to you and holds onto your leg, refusing to let go.

and they all make way for the star of the show: the all-mighty gojo satoru.

he beams, “wifey, yet again you save the day!”

he easily picks up s/n and pulls the four of you into one big hug. he rubs his cheek against yours, “have I told you how much I love you?”

“I was gone for 3 minutes.”

“I haven’t?!” he gasps, completely ignoring you, “I am a terrible husband!”

he sobs and starts slowly melting to the ground where he believes a ‘disrespectful, good-for-nothing husband who doesn’t tell his wife just how much he loves her’.

anyway, back to the present. the kids have been miraculously put to sleep—a process that satoru does not have the time nor the energy to describe.

when he stops ‘reminiscing ‘, he starts paling at the fact that all of these were mere examples of things going wrong without you, and you were in the freaking area.

now, you’re not 10 steps away, and satoru is feeling very threatened.

he is sprawled out on the couch, eye bags ever so prominent. he sighs and lets his head fall back, grateful for the silence that fills the house, but he hates it at the same time.

satoru was never fond of silence—the type that feels so heavy on the heart—even when he was a teenager. it gives space and time to think about all the things he is desperate to avoid.

he did eventually come to love silence but only the silence that accompanies the times he spends with you, but that’s a story for another time though.

opening his eyes, he looks around and his gaze lands on your recent family photo. his smile is almost instantaneous.

if there’s anything he will rub in suguru’s face when they meet is that he managed to score himself such a lovely wife and an adoring family, a real family. he mentally writes a plus one on the score chart between him and suguru then relaxes.

he would like to scurry to the bed where your scent still lingers, but his fatigue has simply chained him to the couch—he is overreacting you’re only gone for three days.

so, he decides, it’s time to rest and hope for a dream where he gets to hold you and live with his longing until he can feel your lips against his skin again.

the great gojo satoru closes his eyes and welcomes his slumber.

that is until, his little sweetheart decides to breakout into a wail, effectively causing her dad’s eyes to snap open.

he jumps to his feet and sprints to her room, “d/n, what’s wrong, honey?”

he softly cradles her in his—gigantic—arms and starts rocking her slowly. “it’s okay; papa’s here,” he murmurs in hopes of calming down, but his daughter doesn’t register his voice yet.

she can, however, feel his all too familiar chest against her cheek, so she grips at it tightly and continues crying.

satoru’s expression is full of distress, and his heart contracts painfully at how his daughter’s cries. then it’s almost like the entire world is against him right now because he also starts to hear small little sniffles from the door of the room.

your husband looks back to find his son dragging his teddy bear with him in one hand and in another, trying to wipe his tears as much as possible.

your husband quickly shifts d/n into one arm and leads s/n into him with the other. your son nuzzles into his dad’s chest and murmurs, “I want mama.”

almost like she understands the mention of you, she calms down a tiny bit and her hands start reaching for the air—reaching for you.

satoru slides down to the ground and pulls them both into his chest, and he starts rubbing s/n’s shoulder and kisses the top of his head and sighs, “me too, s/n, but, hey, we are strong and capable, so we have to hold on until she comes home, right?”

a little sniffle escapes s/n as he nods before saying a soft, “yeah.”

satoru smiles and ruffles his hair, “that’s my champ.”

s/n lets out a little smile and snuggles into his dad’s embrace.

so satoru shifts his attention to the sniffling baby in his arm, he frowns, “now what are we going to do with you, little missy?”

your son purses his lips for a moment, before placing the teddy bear in his hands into his little sister’s tiny arms. curiosity takes over for a moment, and she starts exploring the new item.

then s/n presses on the teddy bear’s chest and it plays a little voice message from you:

“hey sweetie! mama loves you, so don’t worry about those nightmares! I am always here.”

your daughter’s eyes shine and she hugs the teddy as much as possible and utters a small, “ma!”

satoru blinks owlishly then looks at s/n with smile, “so you had that all along?”

s/n nods slowly and holds into his father tighter, obviously getting tired and getting ready to sleep. satoru would love to say the same about his other angel but—oh she fell asleep.

looks like all it took was a little listen to your voice.

he will probably make you record a thousand voice messages when you come back and make you get him his own special build-a-bear as well cause what the hell? what about your husband?

he shakes the thought away, realizing that he can finally fall asleep, albeit on the floor.

with no blanket.

no pillow.

not even his favorite cushion.

but he wasn’t raised to be ungrateful, so he will take what he can get. he will simply make up for lost sleep when you’re back. it will feel better that way in any case.

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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[bunny-jpeg]

puppy hybrid!simon (18+)

inspirations taken from this post

price had to go away for a little while, which was hard to tell his favourite puppy! he had only recently taken you in and it was hard for him to leave you behind. you were all mopey and sad eyes a week before he left. originally he was going to have you stay at a hybrid daycare for the duration of his time away.

but johnny had another idea! he said that he'd watch you! he joked that if he could handle the mutt hybrid he called simon, he could handle a purebred like you. with your floppy ears and cute tail!

you were so well behaved and price was so proud of you. he made sure anything you needed was packed up for your little "trip" to visit johnny and simon.

johnny wasn't as good of a owner as he propositioned to price. he went out to the bar with kyle for an evening, which left price's pretty (expensive) puppy with the bully mixed mutt that was simon.

didn't take long for the much larger hybrid to almost tear off your cute little clothes and just fuck you. he had his arm around your middle as he pushed his cock as far as it could go. he knew he was hitting up against your cervix.

he chuckled, "gonna make a new breed of puppy with you." his voice was low and grumbled, it made you soaked between your legs as he stretched out your poor little cunt.

when you thought that he was done, he enjoyed when you'd scamper off to go pee or get some water. it only encouraged him to sniff out his mate, as if the trail of his cum leaking down your leg didn't make it easy enough.

he made a face when he saw the trail, it should be in you, little pup! not all over the hardwood floor! eventually he had you over the couch, behind the kitchen island, in the bathroom and finally in simon's bed where he could smother your purebred scent with his.

johnny knew he was fucked when he came home the next morning and found you naked under a partially clothed simon. your belly a bit swollen from the gallons of hybrid cum stuffed in there.

"price, i'm so sorry. i didn't know, i thought he was well behaved!" johnny looked pale when price came home to get you.

you were curled up in simon's arms in the doggy bed. gone were the cute pink bows and little outfits, you were swimming in simon's cheap black t-shirt with a motorcycle on it. but even price could see the slight slope in your belly.

"but, price!" you whined when your owner tried to pull you away from the mutt, as last ditch effort to save you. you kicked out your little legs, "i love him."

the older man sighed. spoiled little puppy. he ended up taking in simon too, he saw how anxious you were without your mate. johnny promised the dog hybrid to visit often but simon was too busy snuggled up with his new missuses (sorry johnny!). now price has two hybrids to take care of plus whatever was slumbering in your belly.

you were still price's little puppy, even if your attention was split between owner and mate. when you ate at the table to eat, you'd give simon a light smack on the hand if he was eating like a prisoner. you pouted your lips and shook your head.

simon sighed and took you by the head to kiss one of your soft ears, "sorry, love." at least price didn't have to train the mutt, you were doing the hard work for him.

simon followed you like a shadow, protective of his mate. and even the home you inhabited. you'd often lie on the doggy bed with simon behind you, large hand on your swollen middle and his lips at the back of your neck. but the mutt wasn't fully house trained. there had been a few times that price would be watching the football game and he could hear the whines of his beloved puppy, only to look over and see simon just pinning you down and rutting against you.

"bad dog." price grumbled as he tried to grab simon by the collar, "she's already pregnant, you animal!"

but price had to admit, you were rather cute all pregnant. if anything your floppy ears only got softer, your smile on wider. price had just wished you picked a mate of a higher caliber.

he wouldn't mind puppies, but you were of a softer breed. you shouldn't have ended up with a bully of a dog. but price had to (begrudgingly) admit, it was nice to know when he went out that there was guard dog in the house.

that didn't mean he was the biggest fan of simon.

"get off of her, simon." price rolled up the newspaper to wack the mutt hybrid, "she's got no room in her for that. she's already swimming in puppies!"

simon growled and just fucked between your thighs until he made a mess of himself. the older man looked at the hybrid and the hybrid looked back in defiance.

you on the other hand were sound asleep on the doggy bed, covered in simon's cum. even that stretch marked lined belly was too.

price was only in his late thirties, he thought he was a little young to be a grandfather figure to the rowdy puppies that you give birth to. all with your beautiful eyes but the personality and points ears of their father.

"i need another drink."

[netherfeildren]

Busy, Dying. Part 1;

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: In an in-between place called his life, Joel Miller is alone. In search of a cure. In need of a miracle. In want of God.

Can I interest you in a cure for loneliness? She'd asked him in a language without words. Taking it is the easy part. Letting her go is impossible.

-OR-

an a/b/o soulmates AU

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: No Outbreak AU, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Soulmates AU, Infidelity, Cheating, HEA!!!!!, Angst, Fluff & Smut, Mating Bites, Knotting, Heat Sex, Breeding Kink, Group Therapy, Social Experiments, Basically puppy training for unsocialized Alphas, And by God that man will be house trained by the time she’s done with him!, Complicated family dynamics, Discussions of self harm, Depression, Existential Angst, Author returns not with a whimper but with a KNOT, I wrote this in a very unserious state of mind beware 

A/N: Gray November, I've been down since July - but we're so back, baby. I’ve missed this so bad. I’ve missed you all, I won’t drone on and on. I hope you enjoy, and please talk to me in the comments. Update me on what I’ve missed, let me know how you’ve been and what’s happening in your life.

A great heartfelt thank you to all of my wonderful friends who so supportively cheered me on while I struggled to write this. Sincerely the best people I know. 

Love you all madly.

Word Count: 6.5K

Read on AO3

Part 1;

The old linoleum tiles are the most peculiar shade of puce, and Joel has realized that there is someone sitting at the back of the room who smells… strange. 

More brown than purple—an ugly color. There’s something about it that fascinates him.

The woman that is currently speaking tells of her husband; it’s the only tale she has to tell. She’s been doing it for weeks, and they all know it well by now. Older, omega, the woman, and at the latter and less comely stage of life. Most of them here can say the same. They usually give their names, those that get up to share—although it’s never a requirement when you attend, it is highly encouraged—the sharing, he means—but he never pays much mind to them—the names, that is. That’s not what he’s here for after all—to make friends. Although, he does see how that’d be the initial assumption. 

Joel Miller is here for something more specific.

Six weeks he’s been showing up to these things now, and he’s yet to take a turn. He tells himself he’s working up to it. 

What that specific thing is…he hasn’t quite figured out. He’s listening for it, though, and intently, even if he does skip over the names. It’s the details of what they’re telling that matter to him. The hows and intricate whys of what it is that brought them here today.  

Her youth had been spent on a drunk, the woman is saying—her husband—and he’d been cruel to her in those days when there was still currency to spend in the form of her vitality. Joel nods at the puce—yes, he thinks, that’s usually the way of it. But later, there’s more to the story she reminds her audience, he drank himself into a fit, and had never been right since. The cruelty had been taken away from the marriage after that, and she’d been put in charge. 

“But I wonder,” she says, “If sometimes I don’t miss it, the way he’d been,” —if the reason she was here now, with all of the rest of them that were just like her in their own unique ways, was that she’d been left lonely after her cruel husband had been exchanged for a sick one. 

Joel nods again and wonders what sort of face the woman wears as she confesses but doesn’t bother to check. No matter, he knows they’re the same. If not in designation, then in heart. 

It’s easy, that thing, he does it too, to wish for the bad. To want to hold on to it, the thing that hurts. Addictive, even, in some cases. Missing it is easy. 

It’s why he’s here. 

And it’s what they promise you. In their flyers and pamphlets, when they stand on the corners of streets talking people up wearing that look in their eye and that slouch in their step, when they smell it on you—or in the lack there of—a mate or a purpose.

Welcome to our meeting. We’re here to find the cure for loneliness. 

That’s what they promise you when you come here. 

It’d been that word: loneliness, actually, that had caught him. L-O-N-E-liness. There was something attractive about it to him. Not a label but a state. 

You see, it was like this: Joel had seen a therapist once, several years ago, against his will and at the behest of another, who’d said all the wrong things in all the wrong ways. 

“You sound depressed, Joel,” the therapist had told him. 

He’d worn horn rimmed glasses and had a shiny bald head he could see the reflection of the overhead lights in. And worse—the non-scent of a beta which told him they’d never understand each other in the ways Joel longed to be understood. He’d—not hated him, necessarily—but felt an immense apathy for the man; more so than the regular apathy he felt for most things in his life. 

“I don’t know what that means.” 

“Very, very sad,” was the official diagnosis.

Joel hadn’t liked the sound of the word. The label. He did not like that a word so succinct could be ascribed to him and all that had happened to him in his life. There was no word for it. It just was. 

But there was something different about a state of aloneness, which if attributed to himself, he could accept. He had been left alone, in ways. It was a tangible thing he could look around a room inside of himself and recognize. 

They’re meetings, is what this place is—encounter groups this coalition offers where lonely demi humans can come to congregate, discuss their aloneness, what had led them to such a state; their lack of attachments, connections, mates—alpha, omega. Held in the basement of the Emmanuel Episcopal Church on Newbury street, right between his shop and house, although they never talk about religion which he likes because he doesn’t believe in religion. 

God is still under review. 

He wonders if the Catholics wouldn’t have them. 

Sitting forward in his seat, the metal folding chair that always leaves his back aching something fierce, he presses his elbows into his knees to distract with alternative pressure. Focusing on his fingers woven together between his spread legs, he tries to pay attention to the man who’s stood up to speak now. Older than himself, late sixties, no children, no family, no nothin’; he’d run them all off. 

But Joel is distracted. 

The smell is stronger now. Stranger too. Something full bodied, but metallic like rust, astringent bleach, built in a way that forces saliva to pool heavy between his suddenly aching gums. A mask that sits atop something of a much different chemical architecture—that’s the strange part. 

Or—no. The back of his neck itches, and Joel lifts a palm to cup his nape, quell the sting, feel the tender mark. No. The strange part is not the illusion of the smell. What it is, actually, is that he’s fairly certain what he’s smelling is someone else's blockers. Something which he’s positive he’s never consciously noticed on another person in the thirty plus years since he’d presented as an alpha. 

He has, suddenly, the quite intense urge to peek over his shoulder, certain that he’ll be caught smelling things he has no business smelling. That there will be someone just there, breathing down the nape of his neck with accusation on their tongue—boo!

Silly. But he’d known today would not be a good day. 

It’d started off wrong. The milk had gone sour overnight, the check engine light had come on in his truck, all his socks were suddenly mismatched with not a single pair to be found, and his usual route to work had been waylaid by some freak accident. A tree split in half, one side into a house, the other into the road. Not a sign of lightning in the sky all night long. 

Perhaps he might be compelled to believe in God after all. 

Joel does not like it when things are out of order or out of the ordinary. His life was organized in a way that never caused him strife or excess. And it was not that he was stuck in his ways, only that he enjoyed his routine and disliked when things were not as they should be. And this—whatever it is he’s smelling, whoever—is not as it should be. 

The older gentleman, an Alpha too, is still speaking. He had a daughter, has, who no longer speaks to him. Won’t even take his money. He’d had a long career in government that’d filled him with greed and paranoia and a radical view of life that refused to align with the way young people saw the world now. Perhaps he’d tried to change at certain times, but he was old and set in his ways. Or maybe he hadn’t wanted to change as badly as he should have when he still had the chance to. Happily stuck in the past. His wife had died, and his daughter had gone away from him. Too tired of his mediocrity as a father to give him another chance. 

The man sounds like he feels sorry for himself. Like he thinks himself the victim, and this one, Joel does look up at. He looks old and worn down, heavy beer pouch and thinning hair and sagging jowls. A sad and lonely man. Joel wonders if that’s how he looks to the other people in this room, as well. 

“No man knows how bad he is until he has tried very hard to be good.” Joel blinks, looks at him more closely, tries very hard to find similarities between themselves. But no—not quite right, not the thing he’s looking for. Their plight is different. This man is not alone, he’s got his weakness to keep him company. 

The one thing Joel had fought like hell to keep out of his repertoire of issues. He’d run from even the possibility of it as soon as she was dead, left Texas straight for the Northeast and from thereafter, everything he’d done, he’d done with a staunchness of character. If at the end of it, that staunchness was made up of apathy or numbness or dissociative fury, well, then at least he wasn’t still that man who’d been too weak to save his daughter. 

That counted very much in Joel’s book. 

An overabundance of cold numbness, little anger, everything a static haze—an abstinent winter. That was his whole life. But then, look at him now, he was here, wasn’t he? He’d taken that brochure handed to him on that last warm Tuesday weeks ago as he’d headed back to the shop from lunch. 

Hello, sir. Could I interest you in a cure for loneliness? The young omega had said. 

It’d started like anything—an experiment or a desperate ploy. The monotony had been steady going the past few years, getting older, colder. He’d grown hard and solitary around his wound, loneliness spread like a fungus, and he’d longed for any sort of change. 

“A cure…how?” The terrible shrink had come to mind.

“Oh, nothing to fret over.” The young man had a nice smile, Joel remembers. Kind and straight toothed. Honest in the way that a stranger knocking on your door to sell you a Bible seems honest. “We call it an encounter group. People come, share, tell the tales of their designation and their lives. In the end, the result is different for different people. Some move on to a second step if they need more. Others find what they’re looking for just through the connection of sharing. But no matter the result, you’ll see, you’ll be cured. Promise.” He’d winked, smile deepening, giving him an appreciative once over at the end of his spiel. Joel had blinked back, surprised, confused, but curiosity peaked enough he’d obsessed over it for three short days before he’d found himself stepping into the molted incense smell of the belly of a church so dimly lit he was sure not even God peaked in this sad space any longer.

“It’s that easy?” Joel had asked, childlike in his throat-strangled hope.

“That easy.”

It seemed the smile had been honest enough to sell him the Bible. 

The scent insists upon itself as the older gentleman finishes up, and Joel’s nose tickles with whatever it is it’s whispering at him. He wants to get up and walk out, run away, but suddenly his gut is tight and hot, and he isn’t sure he can actually stand up without disgracing himself in front of all these people. A wash of agonized heat moves through him, confused at what’s suddenly happening to his body. 

“We have a newcomer today sharing for the first time,” Maria, the woman who leads the group, says at the front of the room. “Everyone give her a warm welcome, it’s her first day and already she’s brave enough to jump on up here.”

There’s the shuffling of bodies in their seats, a cleared throat, the man sitting behind Joel breathes so loudly he thinks he’s gotta have some sort of medical condition, the puce turns more hideous by the second, and his own heart is beating so hard in his ears the rush of blood is dizzying. He feels each thump of the thing against his breast bone in some sick imitation of a fist begging to be let out. 

The new voice begins as nothing but a murmur. 

An introduction—he misses the name. His breathing goes shallow, he’d tip over in his seat if he didn’t have both boots planted firmly against the puce. The voice gains strength and with it, Joel wishes he’d been paying attention from the start. He didn’t get to hear her name. 

It’s a girl.

She’d run away from home in the spring of her sixteenth year to join the opera, she tells them. Had come upon the city in roaring spring and thought the rest of her life would be exactly like that, pure novelty in bloom, nothing like what she’d left behind. And was deeply disappointed when the reality was nothing such. 

And Joel hears it, that disappointment in her voice at what she’d not been able to find after searching for it so religiously. This is what makes him look up at her. This, unlike all the others, he thinks he can relate to—just by the sound of her voice. The search for a thing lost which can never again be found. The fruitlessness of it all. 

At that first vulnerable, terrified glance, she’s already staring at him, eyes catching like hooks. 

He blinks once, twice—color—is sure he can hear the movement of his eyelashes passing through the air, the stick of his lids meeting—color—bright. This is it.

That wash of heat turns into a blaze, every single bead of sweat blooming on his brow is a tell evaporating into the ether. This is what he’d sensed from the start of the evening. Maybe even from the moment he’d seen that split maple. 

“My mother always said I needed to be stronger, bolder, not so sensitive.” She looks away from him now. “I grew up in an angry house where you had to fight tooth and nail not to be overrun. Because of this, I left it at a very young age, and it was the greatest fight I could muster, abandoning that house of anger. I found myself something to bring me what I thought would be joy, a job and a city, and for a time, it was enough. But starting your lonely life so young…it’s hard.” After a pause of breath, “It’s been hard.”

“And it’s made me never want to have to—exert myself,” she says, searching for the right words, smiling when she finds them, and Joel has the urgency to smile back. “Now, I never want to have to be strong. I never want to have to try. I want to only be the way that I am. If that’s weak or sensitive or whatever it might be at any given moment, I don’t care. I don’t want to have to fight. I never want to be in an angry house again. I want someone who’ll see this in me and understand and never make me work for it, that they would give it to me willingly, easily, without me having to ask. Do you understand?” She looks about the room, and he hopes her eyes will land on him again, and even though they don’t, he feels she’s speaking directly to him. He nods, the hook of her temptation cast beneath his chin. “This is a fantasy. And it makes for a lonely existence. This idea of how I need it to be for it to be right—love.” She looks down at her hands folded atop the podium where they go to stand at the front of the group and share, and he wills her gaze to find him amidst the crowd again. “It’s so difficult. And this might seem very bad to you, weak willed, but it’s not. It’s only very honest. Which can never be a bad way to be.” That’s why she’s here, she tells them.

Finally, she looks back at him, and it’s that loneliness of two people amidst a crowd, facing one another, knowing themselves mirrored against the other and yet still disparate. There’s something indecent about the way she looks at him in front of all these people, the way he, in turn, looks back. A little bit like finding your own face on a stranger's body in a crowded room. Color rises to his face, and she gives him that same elusive smile from before. 

He’s the one to look away this time. 

As the crowd disperses for coffee and pastries after the last of the speakers, he searches for her. He needs to ask her name, feels as if he’s some blighted creature without it, swears he’ll never forgo attention during a meeting again if he can fish it out of her.

He finds her at the dessert table, Maria at her side and a hand at her shoulder. Something of a thank you is being imparted between the two women. The girl is saying she’s grateful for the welcome, grateful that they’d found each other. 

Joel has things to be grateful to Maria for, too. His brother, mainly. It’d been pure chance that Joel had met her here, that she knew Tommy also. She’d met his brother on a summer trek to Wyoming where they’d become friends and had kept in touch afterwards. The woman has a thing about her that ingratiates people by sheer force of will. Perhaps it’s that she’s an alpha, too. Perhaps it’s just the charisma and wide smile. The fact that she has a countenance that takes no shit from anyone, that makes demands of a person whether they’ve got any give or not. But whatever the case, they’d realize their connection through Tommy, and she kept Joel updated on his brother whom he’d not spoken with in many years. 

Watching the two women stand together and share that easy thanks that Joel so urgently owes, and yet which he cannot voice, he feels, suddenly, so angry. So awkward. So humiliatingly inexperienced. So unable to grapple with the pain of human contact, the fascination of it, the humiliating necessity. 

That decade old anchor weighing him in place and the guilt of even thinking of it as such. 

I feel decrepitly alone and odd, he thinks. And how strange, no? He was a normal man. He has a normal job. He lives in a normal house. Unexceptional in every sense. Everything in his life had been ordinary up until that one great tragedy. And then, as if none of the before had ever existed, it was as if everything afterwards was one great landslide of wrongness. The filth of it slinging mud all over his life so that nothing had ever been right after her. 

So that now he cannot even approach this girl whose name he needs to know, and Maria, to whom he owes the last surviving connection to his brother. 

As Maria turns to go, she gives him an encouraging nod, sending him into an agony of shyness. She’d sensed him hovering. 

The girl remains at the dessert table, perusing the pastries. He can see her fingertips dancing over the golden, sugared confections, before she settles on a plain, glazed donut. He watches the bend of her elbow, bringing it to her mouth and thirty seconds later, the empty hand reaching for a napkin. He can’t help the huff of laughter it draws from him. 

Watching the unknown creature with her back turned, he peers down the length of himself. Wood stain marred t-shirt, old work jeans and scuffed boots, he’d come straight from the shop. Looking back at her, she seems perfectly packaged and pristine. The two of them, different as chalk and cheese. He tells himself he shouldn’t do it, turn around and go, leave her alone, as he steps up beside her at the table. 

Immediately, there’s the heat of her skin, the smell of her shampoo, and he realizes, and it’s silly because it should’ve been obvious from the get go, she’s an omega. The epiphany, not that she is one, but that he’d been too stupid and oblivious to notice, leaves him feeling vulnerable and angry. 

Any sort of hello that’d been coming alive on his tongue immediately dies. And he’s about to make a run for it once again when she speaks up from beside him, “Would you like a donut?” Her small fingers are dancing over the pastries, searching once again. “I haven’t had one yet,” she lies, “I can’t decide which looks best.” 

The dancing hand pauses over a golden brown puff pastry, seemingly coming to a decision, when she turns to look up at him. The scent of her isn’t just shampoo, not just the blockers he’d shockingly picked up on before, sharp, burning his nose. It’s her skin now, too. The dry sweat from hustling under her coat to make it to her first meeting on time salted along her limbs. Hot, sweet almonds. The shocking vermillion of the morning’s split maple comes to mind. He can smell her.

“A puff pastry?” She presses, quizzical crook to her brow at his silence and glower. “I think you really need something sweet. It’ll make you feel better.”

He wants to agree, to say he also thinks he needs something sweet. All he can manage is a short grunt because she smells…indescribable. Honeyed musk, something heady, like she herself had just got done baking, straight out of the oven and full of sugar into his waiting mouth. 

That earlier anger, it kicks up a notch. Why isn’t he fucking saying anything? 

She shrugs, as she lifts the puff pastry to her mouth he finally manages sound. 

“You stink.”

He doesn’t know when he became such a liar.

A pause, mouth open, straight, white teeth ready to bite into the fluffy sweet bread. He can see her small, pink tongue, and it makes him go a little woozy.

He might be losing his mind. 

She’s got elegant eyebrows that shoot straight up her smooth forehead. The look of her skin is glorious. “Excuse me?”

Now, there seem to be too many words spilling out of his mouth. “You need better meds or somethin’. Need to sort your shit out. Can’t go gallivanting about the world smellin’ like that.” Oh god, shut up. 

“Excuse me!” She takes a huge bite of the pastry. “I do not gallivant,” she shoots back, mouth full of sugar and Joel goes hot everywhere. “What is wrong with you?” she demands, the pursing of a prim little mouth as she chews, eyeing him maliciously. 

He hasn’t the damndest clue. 

She is not wary of him in the slightest, which in turn tells him he needs to be wary of her.

Another large bite, inexplicably she extends her free hand towards him—potentially going into shock and entirely out of his depth when he takes it, the vulnerability of tendon and muscle soft beneath his strength—offering him a firm shake. She gives him her name. 

In that moment, she has a look about her that tells him she’ll bite back if he isn’t careful, even if she hurts herself in the process. 

And now he knows you. 

-

“We might as well acquaint ourselves if you’re going to insult me. Don’t you think?” Peering up at him, he’s tall, well over six feet, and broad shouldered. Older, distinguished, but in a rough way, hewn oak, gray. “Are you typically this rude? Or is this a special occasion?”

Incredibly handsome. 

“I’m being serious.”

“I do not stink. No one has ever said that to me, and my blockers are quality. It must be a you problem.” The puff pastry really is very good. And this man really is very handsome. Coming here today was a good idea. 

One of the girls from the theater had suggested it, handing you a pamphlet with Looking for the Cure for Loneliness? emblazoned across the top, and even though she’d done it kindly, any other person would’ve taken the implication as an insult. Hey girl! No offense, but we all in the company think you’re super weird and have you heard about this support group for losers? Kind of like Omegas Anonymous!

Those hadn’t been her exact words, and you hadn’t taken offense. After the initial agony of embarrassment, you’d warmed to the idea. You’d heard of groups like these before. Congregations of demi humans where one could come to find community or connection. Be it socializing or support for people struggling with their designations and all that they implied, they served their purpose. And anyways, you weren’t in a position to be nitpicky. 

It’s true, you’re alone. 

So alone, in fact, that even the people around you could tell. Strangers, coworkers, your roommate and her girlfriend. Like some noxious cloud of loneliness following you around virtue signaling the desperate need for love and companionship and understanding you’re so in need of. 

You increasingly saw yourself as a dancer on her toes, trembling delicately all over, vying desperately to survive to the end of the song. A monster with too many heads. A Cerberus of the richest caliber. 

Two or three would’ve been acceptable—heads—but you'd long surpassed that and moved on to something unrecognizable and unpleasant. Desperately in need of a solution. 

“Maybe you’re the one that stinks. Maybe it’s your upper lip.” And voila, the monster makes her debut. 

“My—” The rude alpha, obvious, that one, lets out a choked sound, a deeper wash of color immediately flooding his cheeks. You dip your head sideways, appraising him as you polish off your second pastry. He has pretty bone structure, masculine, and after he’s done choking and spluttering, he can’t help but laugh a little bit. You see it. 

Beneath a mouth that looks forbidding, perhaps even a little cruel, you can sense that he is not an unkind man. 

Yet you’re not so green that you can’t recognize the gnawing hunger of loneliness in others. There’s always a reason people find themselves in places like these. His face, edged with the weariness of age, makes this obvious. He has good reason for subjecting himself to this. 

Reaching for the lovely eclair you’d been deciding between earlier, you take a large bite of it. Almond cream and a thick layer of icing on top, humming happily as you chew while he stares at you like the three headed dog. 

You hold the dessert out towards him, offering. Palm up, he shakes his head no, slightly disgusted look on his face. 

“So. You come here often?”

He blinks. “Really?” Patronizing look on his face now. 

“Why not? I am actually interested to know if this is worth my time.”

He rolls his eyes. Oh, he’s fun. “Yes, I come here often. Every Friday, for the past two months just about.”

“And you like it?”

“Is this the sort of place one likes?”

“Oh, come on. You never know what you might find.” He watches your mouth as you finish the eclair, swallowing hard. “Anyways, I think the world is kind of over out there. Don’t you? Might as well make the best of it in here.” 

Thumb pressed against the edge of the table, he looks down, suddenly awash with shyness once again. A shy alpha, who’d of thought. 

“What did you used to do?” He asks, motioning at the crowded room full of chatting alphas and omegas. You wonder how many of them will go home together for a fuck after this. 

“When?” You ask, sure he means in lieu of this group, if you’d ever had another form of demi human community. 

“Before this.”

“Before this? Nothing.” Smiling at him, certain he isn’t picking up on your teasing. 

“Nothing?”

“Nope. I’ve always been here.”

“But— Don’t you…I thought...” He’s cute, shaking his head like you’re just too confusing to sustain. “You sing, right?” He pivots. 

“Sing? Me? Whatever made you think such a thing?” The sly look on your face goes completely over his head and slides to the rest of the sweets. If he wasn’t watching, you’d have another. 

“You said. You said you’re in the opera,” he gruffs back, looking visibly aggravated now. 

Such fun. 

“I’m a supernumerary,” you concede as you turn, making your way to an old relic of a pew along the far wall, tragically abandoning the desserts. 

He follows as you go, sitting a respectful distance beside you. 

“I don’t know what that is.”

“We’re the actors that fill the stage at the opera.”

“No singing?”

You shake your head, flirting with him. “I’m a wench, I’m a courtesan,” You bat your lashes, fingertips pressed coquettishly beneath your chin, “Part of a harem. I’m every woman you’ve never known. It depends on the opera.”

“I’ve never heard of that before.”

“I started as a stagehand when I first got to Boston. Worked my way up.”

“How’s it work? Lines or somethin’?”

“No lines. No anything. I’m a background actor—an extra, basically. If anything, I’m given some simple choreography direction, laugh, sigh, show fear, horror, shock. Whatever. I’m playing pretend without actually having to do anything.”

“No working for it.”

Your smile melts to blandness. So he’d been listening, then. 

“Did you want to sing?”

“No. I wanted to be a supernumerary.”

“Strange. I’ve never heard of that,” he repeats.

“You did say, yes.” Now, the smile turns auspicious. Everyone’s here for something. “What do you do?” Perhaps this is it for him. 

You eye the rest of the congregation, at the far exit, there’s a large alpha helping an omega into his coat. 

“Got a shop, furniture, woodworking and such.”

“You make things?” He nods. “Ah, a man of creation.” 

Sitting back to take him in, he’s got the beginning insinuations of silver speckling the dark hair at his temples, a well groomed beard, and large, intimidating hands. 

His small huff of laughter is bashful, tinged with something disappointed. “No, nothin’ that grand.” And he’s got an accent heavy at the ends of his words, not Bostonian. Southern.

“But you know, I wanted to say…”

“Yes?” You press when he loses his courage, leaning towards him, inhaling deeply. 

“Well, that I know what you meant earlier. Sometimes I can be the angry house.”

You blink once. Sit back. “I see.” 

“It’s hard work. I have to try every day at it.” 

Hard work being the house, or not? Two opposite sides of the same coin. 

“How do you stop yourself?” You cast a line, fishing for his character.

“Don’t know. Keep myself cold, I think.”

“That’s no way to be.”

“No. It’s not.” He sounds amused. You want to bite him.

Everyone’s here for a reason. 

“Ah, well. Perhaps that’s what’s brought you here then,” you say, twisting the toe of your sneaker against a scuff on the old hardwood, leaning forward on your palms wrapped around the edge of the pew. 

“Maybe,” he says, but a sort of pained, exasperated sound follows it. Your hung head turns to peer at the handsome face, and he’s already looking at you. 

There’s something animal afoot. Perhaps in terms of designation, sure, of course, like the rest of the alphas and omegas here. Your designations weigh heavily in the air. But also intrinsic to your two personalities. You feel you know him. That the two of you might have the same sorts of problems, desires. And as you stare at him, you think you may be equally measuring each other’s character, finding that similarity in one another. 

His eyes move quickly between yours, over your face, and you can tell that prolonged eye contact isn’t his norm.

He has the most surprising set of bright hazel eyes like river stones. 

Suddenly, you feel desperate to pull out a flicker of sexuality in the man, hear it in his voice. Sure, that with him, the experience would be entirely different, exhilarating. Perhaps a challenge. He seems to be more quiet and more patient than any other man you’d ever come across, but also more stern—taking in that soft mouth held so firmly. Far more remote too, by the far away look in his gaze. You want to see how he could be moved and what the sight of it would look like. 

“Maybe not,” he finally continues. “I’m looking for something, I think.” 

“Something like what?”

“Someone like me.”

“An alpha?”

“No,” he looks away, cringing. The word out loud seems a shock to him. “Did you listen to the woman at the start—missing the bad thing? I struggle…with that. Holding on, not letting go even when I know I should.”

You’re at an age now which sometimes makes it hard to realize or accept that what you’re living is your life. That it’s been time to grow up. That you have to remember to move forward when it’s your turn in line. 

Which is to say, that you understand him—the difficulties of knowing when to hold on and when to give up.

“Sometimes you hurt yourself because you don’t have anything else to do. Sometimes, because the alternative is much worse.”

“Holding on ‘cause there’s nothing else to do?”

“Sure. Or you’re used to it.” You’ll be gentle with him, you decide. He’s in need of gentle handling despite the stern face; not a puzzle so arbitrarily solved. And those eyes are still so bright, he doesn’t seem like he needs any more hardship.

“Don’t know why I’m tellin’ you this,” he says, accent heavy. 

“Well you did come here for a reason. Didn’t you?” Discreetly, you slide closer to his side, but he doesn’t notice. Apparently lost in the realization that perhaps this was what he’d come here for, to talk to someone, to have someone listen and relate. You’re almost positive he’s never gotten up to share with the group before in all his time coming to the meetings; doesn’t look like the type.

“I came here because I’m going to take better care of myself,” you tell him. “I’m going to try harder.”

“Harder at what?” He blinks as if attempting to come out of a dream.

“Everything. I don’t want to end up like my parents; drunk, angry, alone. I’m scared of it. I’ve avoided at least two of them.”

“I’m afraid of getting older,” the dream moves in his eyes. “That I’ll forget,” he says, but you don’t ask what.

All of a sudden, he seems very real. The swells of grief and loneliness moving through him so similarly, so close to the surface. 

Springing up, you turn to face him and he follows to stand too. You can hear the crack of his knees unfolding, and when he lifts his left palm to stifle a gruff cough, the band of gold around his finger is paralyzing. 

All of a sudden, he’d seemed like what you’d been looking for here too. There’s laughter coming from the church rafters. 

“You’re a widower?” He wants to forget, he’d said he wants to let go. 

Hadn’t he?

But instead, “What? No.” You stare pointedly at the ring, and he looks down at it also. “No,” he repeats. 

“So’re you looking for a fuck, or what?” You try and hold back the bite it comes with, but you can’t.

“No. No. That’s not what I’m looking for.” 

You don’t understand, impaired by your youth, you forget you’d chosen to be gentle with him. “Maybe it’s what you need,” you tell him, turning towards the exit before you can watch him cringe.

He follows at your heels, grabbing his coat from the hook by the doors before he’s stepping out after you into the fall blister. It’s cold and wet and glorious out. 

“Don’t you have a coat?” He demands.

“Nope.” You start walking towards Arlington Street and the park. 

“Did you walk here? It’s freezing out.”

“I did,” you turn back towards him, still moving, and he starts to follow. 

“From where?”

“Downtown.”

“Where?” He scowls at your uncooperation, the married man. Alpha. The truth was that he’d smelt strange to you too. Like no one ever had before. As glorious and shocking as the cold. Like if snow had a scent. Disappointment churns in your gut alongside the excitement at the sight of him stalking after you. 

“I don’t think you know it.” Your backward walk is interrupted as a hurrying stranger bumps into you, sending you staggering. Watch it, the Boston snark spits. The alpha turns to scowl, heavy boot forward like he’s half a mind to follow after the person you’ve just inadvertently assaulted. 

And it occurs to you, “You didn’t tell me your name.” How silly of you. You’d been so distracted you’d forgotten to ask, and what if you never see him again after this? What if you can’t muster the courage to come back again next week? What if he can’t?

“It’s Joel.” 

You think it sounds right. 

“I might—know it.” Where you’re headed to. You smile at the dog with a bone. The disappointment pulses. “Is it far?” He presses. You shrug, looking over your shoulder. You’re going to lose yourself in the garden for a few hours, forget about him. “Why don’t you drive?”

“I like to walk,” you tell him, turning back. 

He looks at you like he doesn’t like the things you say much less the way you say them much less the way you’re grinning at him. Perhaps he can see the disappointment and is disturbed by the sight of it, but the possibility seems too altruistic. 

“You should try it sometime, Joel. You might like it too.”

His huge body seems to be shivering in the cold. 

“I think…” The look on his face has turned suspicious now. He takes a step towards you. “You’re very strange. And you’re very young. I don’t think we should be friends.”

Your heart gives a demanding thump. “We’re not going to be friends.” When you’d first spotted him in the crowd, the strangest feeling had come over you. A tug behind your belly button, a scalding heat at the back of your neck, at your wrists. Perhaps it’s merely imagination, the look of disappointment you think you see on his face right before you turn away from him to continue on walking. “And I’m not that young anymore.”

You’d known today was going to be a good day. Extra cinnamon in your latte, a late start to your morning, warm in bed, no rain in the sky despite the cloud cover. And your director, late for rehearsals after some freak accident had befallen the roof of his house.

“That’s what all young people say.”

Part 2;

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Vows That Bind Part 1

_____________________________________________

In sickness and in health, for good and for worse. That's how most wedding vows go: sweet and simple yet still carrying the subtle message of ‘I will be there for you no matter what.’ Two individuals connected by the golden bands and promises to stand behind each other like a solid wall made out of steel, unwavering in the innocence of love and devotion. Entwined souls cocooned together for the years to come, withstanding and facing whatever life throws at them. There wasn't anything to fear as long as they had each other.

Then, eventually, the little bubble of the wife and husband is expanded by the addition of offspring—an exact copy and paste of the father, a perfect clone of the mother, but ideally a mix of both parents.

A tiny duplication of sky blue eyes, dirty blond strands of hair, and that oh-so-stubborn look on their petite facades, the same one John would be making whenever he half-heartedly insisted on getting his way in the silliest mock arguments they so often had that brought a peal of full belly laughter out of their beloved sons.

The sharp brow line, upturned delicate nose, and proud mannerism of their mother, in addition to the unbeatable sad puppy stare she mastered and often used against John when he questioned her purchase of yet another set of overpriced, scented candles she just had to obsess about every time they pulled over at the local market. And John always gave in to her way because the happiness that instantly bloomed over the features of his lady-wife was enough of a reward for the man to last him as a sweet, lingering memory for the days of absence spent thousands of miles away during his deployment.

The moment when he, at last, hit the home soil, though, and was discharged on leave for the time being—nothing would stop John from catching the first better cab and running it down in the direction of the home, the car parked at the base be damned, he can pick it up some other time. His house, a little two-level cottage on the city's outskirts with a sizable garden bordering on the forest, was often visited by the wildlife his sons adored to observe.

His usual arrival time was late at night, but on rare occasions, he would get home just for dinner and then spend the entire time chatting with his sons.

John would ask his older son about his grades and friends at school and, with the younger son, about whatever he had been doing to keep his mommy busy while daddy was away. Then, he would help them get ready for bed, and after a quick goodnight kiss on his cheek, he would send them running to their rooms.

And at last, he'd turn towards his better half, standing just a few steps away, who smiled at him with an open expression, full of love and adoration for the man she chose to marry. For he was her first and last thought on her mind when she woke up and went back to sleep each day, worrying about his safety whenever he was away, and when he was close and next to her, she cherished and enjoyed every waking moment by his side.

John doubted there was ever a word that could describe the content love that flew between them, the wordless understanding. They rarely needed words while they had each other.

“I'm back,” John would say, each and every time more tenderly than before. She would answer, “Welcome back,” in a voice softer than the softest of silks.

John adored his little family. He'd do anything to keep them safe and sound, even if it meant sacrificing his happiness. He missed them terribly while away but knew it was for the greater good; his work was necessary. He made sure that the danger of the world would never reach home again, not after the Piccadilly Circus incident.

×××

Like many times before, John was at his home base, passively partaking in a briefing of the upcoming training exchange the upper management wanted Task Force 141 to oversee. 

Sighting, John scratched the base of his neck and finally announced the end of the meeting. The scraping of chairs against the floor panels and agreeable murmurs from the gathered soldiers followed.

He stood up from the not-so-comfortable meeting room chair and was about to head towards the rest of the Task Force lads when his work phone vibrated with a singular notification. He immediately took it out and unlocked the screen to look at the message from Laswell:

»THERE WAS A SECURITY BREACH. CLASSIFIED INFORMATION WAS COMPROMISED.«

He was about to ask her for further explanation when his personal phone began to ring. Frowning, as not many people had the privilege of being in possession of his private phone number, he pulled it out of his pocket. ‘My Love’ was plastered on the screen, an even odder scene unfolding, as his wife rarely called during his work hours, and only occasional texts were sent his way. He put his work phone aside, and without further fanfare, John picked up the call right where he stood:

“Love, is everything okay–?”

“Daddy, are you coming to get us? Mommy told us to stay hidden; bad people are coming,” his eldest son sniffled quietly. She said not to come out and to call you when one hour passes.”

John's blood turned ice cold, freezing him momentarily, almost letting the phone fall out of his hand.

His family was in danger.

It was an electrifying spasm that went down his spine and shook him out of his stupor and into action. “I'm coming, son. Papa is coming,” he said firmly, signing to Ghost standing nearby ‘Home, emergency, invasion, ready the unit.’.

»RECEIVED. HEADING OUT TO ANSWER A DISTRESS CALL FROM HOME. FIND OUT WHO MESSED UP. OR I WILL.«

×××

The ride to his home with his men armed from their feet to the tips of their heads felt like a fever dream and a nightmare combined. None of the men dared say a word to him, not while he kept the line his children were on alive.

Even Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, the never-ending stream of chatting during the way to the mission, kept quiet, observing Price with barely hidden worry. Price hated worry; he hated pity, primarily directed at him, but these men he was with were the only ones who could look at him in such a way. And this was precisely one of such occasions.

There was a security breach into the classified systems, and one of the items stolen was intel about their Captain's private life—a life not even they had access to. To think that somebody who didn't mean well got a hold of it and targeted Price's bundle of happiness is an unredeemable crime people will die for committing.

At last, they arrived in front of the little cottage Price deemed a scorched ground. A scorched ground his men did not let him step on, insisting that they will sweep through just in case, while Price gets a hold of his children's hidden place and gets them into the safety of the bulletproof, heavy army vehicle.

He had no other choice but to stomp towards the little bunker-like area he told his wife about as a just-in-case emergency situation he had hoped to God that never would come to pass. Oh, how wrong he was.

As soon as he opened the lid to the hideout, two pairs of hands tackled his legs, clinging to his pants for dear life. His stoic facade quivered, and dropping to his knees, John gathered the sobbing kids to his chest. He picked them up, stood up, turned around, and carried them toward the vehicle under the watchful gaze of his fellow men. 

A subtle movement from the corner of his eye had Price turning his head towards the veranda, where Kyle “Gaz” Garrick waved at him to catch his attention. He raised a brew at the young man. ‘Traces of struggle, blood, no body.’ They took her. They took his wife.

John glanced down at his sons and snuggled them closer to his chest, his face unreadable. Price nodded at the sergeant and continued his solemn march, already beginning to formulate a plan of action in his head.

Whomever it was, wherever they were, Price would find them.

_____________________________________________

a/n: still getting used to writing a "you" POV, especially from third person perspective, so bear with me, k? Great, good night 💀💀

Tag list: @catinpinklace @gothghostiie

[thebluester2020]

[RE4] Kinktober Day 11: "In Heat"

Summary: Livestock guardians were rare enough, and training them was no easy feat either. But...being in a bind, you decided to take your chances and adopt one! Only, you weren't warned that his heats would be so...intense.

Warning(s): Perv!Reader (She watches Leon fuck his pillow), Yearning(Leon wishes to fuck the reader but doesn't), Dog!Hyrbid Leon, Whiny! Leon, Begging, Masturbation (Both on the reader's and Leon's side obv), Thigh-fucking, Leon low-key being a horn dog.

Side Note(s): Lol I was going to do Lycaon (again) from ZZZ but— the fact I haven't dedicated any Kinktober days to my favorite baddie Leon Kennedy yet is blasphemous, so here I am <33

Searching for a good livestock guardian dog was hard.

Costs aside, training them and getting them used to the farm animals was no easy task. It took a lot of patience and practice over the years and even then? The dog wasn't promised to be absolutely perfect! In hindsight though, you knew you should've been on the lookout the second you had begun buying the necessary resources for your farm. After all, it seemed like just yesterday when you were still waiting for your house to be built, and now? You were only a month away from moving!

The clock was ticking, you needed a guardian dog and you needed one now. No training required.

Which was how you ended up where you are today, at a dog hybrid adoption center, located in the center of your small town. It was a homey place, plenty of space for the hybrids to wander around, and even a dedicated meeting area for them and their potential owners to get to know one another. At first, you felt almost...strange, for considering a hybrid for your farm.

They were called "hybrids" for a reason. They were human but...with animal features and some tendencies here and there, you probably wouldn't even have been here today if your friend hadn't convinced you to at least check it out and so far? You were having no more luck than you were shopping the market for a traditional dog.

"Do you have any hybrids that are good with livestock? Guarding, maybe?" You asked the front desk worker after another conversation with a hybrid cut short.

You weren't searching for a puppy, they had too much energy and you were certain that wouldn't bode well with the animals! An older dog would have been preferable. "Still no luck?" The woman said with an apologetic smile as she searched through the system.

You shook your head with a sigh. "I'm moving in a month, I want to hopefully find a dog today and bring him home soon so I can get him or her used to me."

The woman didn't respond for a beat or two, her eyes narrowed in focus as she searched and searched...until her eyes brightened and she turned the computer screen towards you. "Leon may be a good fit for you! His background is in government, very calm and dependable." As you looked at the picture, you were shocked that no one had picked him yet. good traits aside, he was handsome and you knew that there was a market for people who preferred to use their hybrids for lovers rather than pets.

Not that you planned to use him in that way of course.

"Is he available to talk now?" You asked.

"He will be tomorrow! We try to give our shyer residents more time to know when they want to be spoken to."

You nodded your head in understanding as the worker passed you a few documents to sign as well as choosing a time when you wanted to talk. You suddenly felt nervous, intimidated even! When you looked at Leon Kennedy's profile, he appeared dangerous and you weren't just talking about the deadly scowl on his face nor the fact that he was a Malinois hybrid. His eyes were a deep baby blue, combined with his dirty blonde hair and his hardened features as well as his muscular frame.

You weren't able to deny that he was handsome.

But...you could worry about keeping your mind out of the gutter once you talked with him.

. . .

The next day came by quick. The second you woke up, you were already getting ready to meet with your potential hybrid and you wanted to make a good first impression! You donned a cute but professional style and even took the time to bring gifts as well as had photos of your current apartment and new home already saved to your phone. You wanted to make sure all your cards lined up to having Leon accept you as his owner.

And...you thought you were doing good so far, hopefully. As you currently sat in front of him, his expression was unreadable as his eyes flicked from the photos of your home that you had given him as well as the treat basket you brought along with you.

"You want me as a livestock guardian?" He questioned.

"Yes!" You chirped. "The animals aren't there yet but they will be pretty soon, about a week or two after I move in."

When he didn't respond, you added on a question. "Are you...good with livestock?"

He slowly nodded his head. "I can learn, it can't be any harder than guarding people."

"Your profile mentioned you were in the government. What did you do?"

"Classified missions." He curtly responded.

"...Like?"

He scoffed at your pushiness. "The word classified is there for a reason."

"Seeing as you're still so loyal, you must've been a good one." You complimented. You tried to withhold a chuckle at the sound of Leon's tail thumping against his chair. "Why did you leave?"

"I—" You tilted your head when he paused, the sight of his cheeks beginning to tint pink a little also making your suspicions go up before his shoulders eventually slumped and he sighed. "It's not important, I was simply no longer fit for the missions they were assigning me." His ears flattened at the memory of him being dismissed. For the last few years since that day, he tried to convince himself that it was for the best but...he was used to being active, constantly on the move and doing things. Trading that lifestyle for a quiet and inactive one here in the shelter?

Although the place was nice, it wasn't for him!

Life on a farm could give him some movement, some purpose again.

"Well, I think you'll be a perfect fit for my farm! If you want to actually come with me that is."

Leon looked you up and down, you appeared hard-working and stern. But kind and gentle, it also helped that you were a pretty thing to look at. After being in the government for so long, so many missions where he'd seen the most unimaginable horrors that no normal person should ever see...it was nice to know that he'd be able to look at you all day, working for you.

So, he nodded his head, his tail once again beginning to wag at the sight of your smile.

You grinned. "We'll get along just fine, you and me!"

. . .

And get along fine, the both of you did.

It turns out that there was a reason why Leon wasn't adopted. His ruts were insatiable.

A week after adopting him, you and he had spent the entire time decorating the room you had dedicated to him! You had learned that before he worked for the government, he used to be a guard cop (the puppy photos he had shown you were absolutely adorable might you add) and he was a fan of old-school music groups. You had struck gold with him, you thought. He was a hard worker and was relatively quiet! Although his jokes were a little dry and he had so many cop one-liners that you couldn't even begin to count them all.

You liked Leon.

And that like towards him...you wouldn't deny that it began to inch towards a more romantic direction, especially after what you were currently witnessing tonight.

"F-Fuck..." Through the crack of Leon's door, he was currently rutting against his pillow feverishly. It was bunched up underneath him, his claws threatening to tear the sheets underneath him with how hard he was rutting his dick back and forth on the pillow.

You should've turned away, you should've ignored that ache that started to build up in the pit of your stomach. It was inappropriate of you to watch him like some type of pervert! And you almost did until...you heard your name. "Y-Y/N..." Leon panted out, you could see the light of the moon shine on the hint of drool that began to dribble out the side of his mouth. He sucked in his bottom lip as he threw his head back with a low growl. "Fucking cute owner..." He whined. "I-If only you would help me..." His words were so whispered that you almost missed it.

The ache in your panties was growing near unbearable, and even as every rational part of your brain told you to keep your hand away from your throbbing clit, to go back to bed and act like you hadn't seen or heard anything. You continued to stay, soon clasping a hand around your mouth in order to withhold the moan that threatened to escape from your lips. Especially as your fingers began to circle around your clit, the aching growing more and more by the second as you continued to listen in on Leon's moans.

"Fucking hell—" Suddenly Leon pushed the pillow away from him before he sat on the bed, his hand quickly rushing to his cock as he started to fist his length, the slick sounds of his hand moving along his cock aiding in your own masturbation as you began to finger yourself to the pace of his hand movements.

And in the process, you imagined what his cock would feel like inside your sex. You imagined the veins along his cock rubbing against your inner walls, the sound of his rough growls against your ear whilst the lewd sounds of his pelvis meeting your ass rang throughout the air. "Y' like that owner?" You heard Leon mutter to himself before his curses steadily turned into moans.

You could tell he was close by the way he began to buck into his own hand, causing you to speed up your own ministrations as it quickly became a struggle to withhold your moans. Until a squeak accidentally escaped your lips, and Leon's ear flicked to the door before his pants began to slowly come to a stop.

Yet his hand didn't. "Naughty girl..." Leon said in your direction.

You quickly tore your hand from your underwear with a gasp, but before you could walk away. Leon stopped you with a sharp growl. "Leaving so soon after watching me fuck my own hand? And while you were flicking your clit." He snapped. "Get in here and help me out!" He ordered.

You hesitated for another moment or two before you slowly inched the door open with an embarrassed blush on your face. However, your hybrid had little concern for your embarrassment at the moment before he suddenly rose to his feet and grabbed ahold of your arm, and forced you to sit on the bed. His eyes were trained on you as he then pushed you gently to lay on your back whilst he lifted your legs.

You softly moaned at the feeling of his hard cock pressing against your ass briefly before he took your chin into his hand. "...Can I?"

You heard the desperation in his voice and how hard he was trying to reel it in. "I just wanna fuck your thighs, promise. Nothing else, just that." He assured you, his hips unconsciously bucking against the back of your thighs. And the second you nodded your head "yes", he let out a deep moan when he finally pushed himself between your plush thighs. "Been thinkin' 'bout this for a week..." He began to babble.

"You and this sexy body," He moaned. "Made my rut come early..." You whined when his hand began to feel up and down your body, all before his hand began to rub at your clit. "Clearly you've been thinkin' about me too, huh?"

You nodded shamelessly. "T-Tried not to..." You admitted with a whisper. "Didn't—oh...—want to make you uncomfortable..."

"With having a slutty owner who likes the idea of her personal dog fucking her needy cunt? Oh no baby, quite the opposite..." Then he leaned down to press his soft lips against your own, the feeling of your lips on his own after so many previous nights of imagining them on his cock...he couldn't help but begin to fuck your thighs with more fervor. "Couldn't get you out of my mind." He mumbled against your lips.

Leon's other large hand then left your waist to begin fondling your breasts, taking more care to give one of them more attention than the other as he began to flick your nipple. Leon's body was practically molding with your own body as he continued to kiss you, his technique becoming more sloppy along with his thrusts. "C-Close..." He whispered, tearing his lips from your own when you lightly smacked him for air.

You moaned. "M-Me too." You responded, a needy whine leaving your lips when he began to speed up his rapid flicking of your clit. Your increased moans and whines were going straight to his cock, nothing but lust and adoration for you as both his owner and the woman he now wanted to breed coursing through his veins as he felt your pussy twitch as his cock rubbed against it. "Cumming!" You just barely managed to get out before your eyes slammed shut and your mouth opened in a silent scream.

Leon wasn't too far behind as a string of curses fell from his lips, his hips bucking against your ass a few more times before he stilled and you felt strings of his hot cum shoot out and onto your stomach and chest. The two of you breathed heavily, the lust in the air hot and unignorable as you both came down from your highs. With a shakey moan, however, Leon slipped from your thighs as he looked over you.

Already he could feel himself getting hard. Something that you quickly took notice of. "A-Already...?" You said tiredly.

He nodded his head, his tail beginning to wag eagerly as he gently began to part your legs. "You're the reason why my rut started early...take responsibility."

It seemed you were in for an even longer night further taking care of your new hybrid...

[spiderb00]

Workout The Heart

Hong Eunchae x LSF 6 member!reader 

“every time you suspected there was something wrong with your member, Eunchae. Until the time you found out what it was” 

Genre – Fluff   Warnings – None  (request)

Now playing – Love You Anyway, by The Marias 

"Jihyo's daughter" is what Fearnot has called you since your debut. Your love for the gym and training has earned many inside jokes for the fandom, and many edits as well. You had only recorded a vlog at the gym once, and as soon as it was posted on Le sserafim's Youtube channel, a storm of edits of yours were everywhere. As the second youngest member, you weren't used to edits that weren't just cute stuff, but as soon as you saw your first edit with a provocative song and you looking insanely hot on camera, you knew you could get used to it.   

Unlike you, Eunchae would NEVER get used to it! Every time she saw an edit of yours she simply wanted to pass out, praying to all the gods that she would wake up in your muscular arms. The maknae never liked to work out, in fact she hated everything that involved weight, but with you it was different. Eunchae found herself wanting to accompany you to all your workouts, which was very strange given that not only you, but all of your members knew that the younger girl hated the gym.   

It was a few months ago that you and the girls started noticing Eunchae's strange behavior, you were certainly suspicious, because if Maknae hated working out, what was she doing following you around like a puppy? 

All the girls were in the living room of the dormitory, Yunjin and Kazuha watching some program on TV, Chaewon's eyes glued to the phone and Eunchae was in the kitchen, sitting on the countertop watching Sakura cook. Quickly passing through the room, you grabbed the keys to the door before heading to the fridge to get some of your Gatorade.  

"I'm leaving babies, don't set the house on fire." You said, leaving the kitchen and heading towards the front door.   

"Ahn? Where are you going?" Eunchae asked, turning quickly on the counter, looking intently at you.   

"I have to stick to my training schedule." You said, all the girls' attention now on you and Eunchae.   

 "Yeah, she has to work out to carry all the weight of being a nerd." Yun Jin said, laughing at you and getting a pat on Kazuha's arm.   

"Don't make me carry you to the pool and throw you there again Jennifer... You know I could do that quickly.  

"Hey! It's Unnie for you, nerd." Yun Jin said messing with you, as always.    

"I'll go with you, wait for me to get my things!" Eunchae said suddenly, jumping off the counter and heading towards her room, leaving her members confused.   

You looked at Sakura, who was already looking at you open-mouthed, Yun Jin and Kazuha also stared at each other as if they couldn't believe what they were seeing, and Chaewon was the first to speak.   

"All right, what's going on?" The leader asked, momentarily directed at everyone, only to look at you next.   

"I--I don't know." You said, your surprise was still evident on your face, as well as on all the girls'.  

"She never wants to go to the gym with me." Kazuha spoke, pulling all attention to her.   

"She threw me a pillow once when I asked her why she hated working out so much." Yunjin said, static.   

"Once, she told me that she would rather spend ten hours straight singing and dancing than go to the gym." Sakura said, making you frown.   

"That's weird." You spoke last, looking at the door of Eunchae's room, and at the right moment, the younger girl came out, walking up to you and pulling your arm to the exit.  

"Bye, Unnies!"   

The excitement in the girl's voice and the thud of the door closing was the last thing the older women could hear, after witnessing the younger member pull you out of the dorm.   

The second time you realized there was something wrong with Eunchae, it was on a Friday morning. You had gone for a run, having woken up too early that day and seeing that you had no commitments, you decided that it would be good to clear your mind and get your body ready for the day.   

When you arrived at the dorm, you had decided to make one of your tasty smoothies, mixing fruits you liked, oatmeal and a little honey.  Too busy mixing the ingredients, you didn't notice a small body approaching you until the younger girl hugged your waist.   

"Good morning Machae." You said with excitement. The younger girl letting go of your waist and climbing on the counter, where she definitely liked to stay.  

 "What are you doing?" The younger girl asked, her curious eyes looking into the blender where her smoothie was, now ready.   

"Just a drink after the morning run, nothing much." You said, pouring the mixture into a glass.   

"Oh, you could have woken me up to go with you." The younger girl said, making you almost drop the glass that was in your hand.   

"You... Did you want to go racing with me?" You asked skeptically, being completely sure that something was wrong.   

"Sure, why not?!" The younger girl shrugged, showing off her dimples as she smiled innocently at you.   

"All right then, maybe next time..." You said, still with suspicion present in your voice. 

For the rest of the day, Eunchae stayed close to you, asking questions about your workout and how your diet worked. Also taking the opportunity to call you to see some movies with her later, using the justification that you needed to chill a little.   

You really were struggling, confused by everything that was going on. Eunchae was always close to you, being only a year apart, you were the youngest of the group, always supporting each other and helping when needed. But you had noticed that Eunchae was trying much harder, sometimes you even caught her looking absentmindedly at you, daydreaming. And especially when you were both at the gym, now that Eunchae had insisted that she would go to all the training sessions with you.

You didn't quite understand what was going on, but the answer to all this confusion was closer to being revealed than you imagined.     

Le sserafim was in L.A., finally having a few days to enjoy the city after recording numerous things to fulfill the schedule. Since one of your members was simply the most sociable person in the world, you and the girls were now in the Katseye girls' dorm, eating pizza and talking about various things that were going on.   

YunJin chatted animatedly with Daniela and Manon, while Sakura, Chaewon, and Sophia engaged in a deep conversation about something you hadn't paid attention to. Lara and Yoonchae were chatting animatedly with Eunchae, who was trying her best to focus on the topics of conversation without being distracted by looking at you and Megan laughing together on the couch.   

You and the red-haired girl weren't very close, it seemed like all the members of you seemed to understand each other very well, just with the two of you as two strange losers. Lara had pushed Megan towards you after you arrived, telling the Chinese girl that you wouldn't bite and that you were very nice. Believing her roommate's words, Megan walked up to you, the two of you striking up a friendly conversation only to find that you had a lot in common.  

Only one person had not liked all this approach, Eunchae. The girl looked at you with eagle eyes, following your and Megan's every move, praying to the gods that neither of you would make a wrong move. However, the younger girl can't hold back the cleaning so much, at least not when she saw you and Megan get up from the couch and head towards what Eunchae assumed was the redhead's room.   

Losing focus a bit, Eunchae excused herself, leaving the dorm room and saying that she would be back in a minute. Your members instantly worried about the younger girl, and when you showed up with Megan and noticed that the room was strangely quiet, you were confused.   

Outside, Eunchae sat on a small couch, wiping away the tears that kept falling from her eyes. The younger girl didn't want to cry, she knew she couldn't blame you for anything, after all, she was never brave enough to tell you how she felt.   

"Machae?" You asked, reaching out to the younger girl to check what was going on. "What happened?" You asked, sitting next to the girl with tears in her eyes.  

"Nothing, it's not your fault." Eunchae said, trying her best to stop the tears from running down her face.   

"Eunchae, you know you can tell me anything..." You said, holding your hand in hers. "We would always help each other, remember?"  

Looking at your hands next to hers, Eunchae took a deep breath, looking into your eyes before letting the words come out of her mouth.   

"I like you." The younger girl said, hoping you understood everything she wanted to say with just three words.  

"I like you too, Machae." You said, squeezing hands with the younger girl. 

"No, Yn. I really like you, I want to be with you, to be able to tell everyone that you're mine and to love you in the right way." Eunchae said, looking away from yours, ashamed of the tears that were streaming down her face.  

Taking your hand out of Eunchae's hand, you took her chin gently, lifting the younger girl's head and wiping away her tears.  

"I know, and I like you too Eunchae." You said, your hand still caressing the delicate face of the girl in front of you. "Don't you think I wouldn't notice that you liked me with you following me to the gym?"   

The bright-eyed girl laughed at your remark, the most beautiful smile you could see.   

"I've always liked you, Machae. I'm just really bad at showing it." you said.  

You and the smiling girl stared at each other, your faces a few inches from each other, and when Eunchae made the first signal to get closer, you followed her, getting closer and closer until you joined your lips with hers. It was just a seal of lips, but your stomach was in celebration, butterflies flying and dancing inside you. Eunchae not much different, the two of you have been waiting for this moment for much longer than you could remember. 

"So now that you've finally gotten what you wanted, will you still join me to the gym?" You asked, after moving away from the kiss a little.  

"Not at all."

Hello guys, a request about LSF, I'm excited!

I hope everyone is well, I continue to see a lot of things about L.A. and I hope people are well and can get back on their feet.

It's a tragedy and very sad, unfortunately I can't do much, but I hope with all my heart that all of you are saved

xoxo, spider.

[sugudoe]

➥ ──── MOMMY MILKERS ‼️ BITCH. ღ

gojo satoru is the greatest mind behind MIB, also know as MU IOTA BETA, although is a inside joke the name Mommy mIlkers Bitch, because he thinks there is a large amount of members with huge breasts. Satoru is filthy rich and spoiled, he was a rainbow baby and an only child for some time, everything he wants he can have. his parents only asked him to go to college for business administration, so one day, gojo’s enterprise can be in his good hands. he doesn’t mind, had no plan of life instead of just enjoying it, but he hopes he can still have a lot of vacations all around the world. that’s actually his favorite thing to do, just get up from the bed and travel. gojo and the MIB were pretty popular on campus, but what took their social medias sky rocketing was the brilliant idea to create a tik tok account for their fraternity, showing their parties and random funny moments. of course, what everyone really wants to see, is their fucking beauty. he is the older adoptive brother of megumi, who is too young for fraternities, but gojo thinks he can bend the rules if megumi wants to get inside (gojo can’t & he doesn’t).

geto suguru is studying graphic designer by his choice, although his parents disagree, they can’t say no to him — after all, they are scared for their son and want him to be happy. truth is, geto and gojo had been best friends since high school, and it’s no secret that suguru tries to hide about his long battle with depression. things are getting better as of lately, specially now that his two younger sisters, mimiko and nanako, are allowed to have a cellphone and had been calling him daily. geto can be found in three different places, besides the MIB’s house — the art room of college, choso’s tattoo parlor and in the garage with sukuna, although for only a few minutes before he himself leave with his bike, that he calls his love. he is the vice-president, and helped gojo with the ideas to create the house, he also is the reason why nanami got inside because suguru knew they would need someone that knows how to be an adult, he got surprised with nanami’s true personality later, but hey, he is doing a good job, no complains. his favorite companions outside of the members are the pets and shoko, he adores her very much, she is also a best friend from high school that cared for him in his most vulnerable depressive episodes.

zen’in toji comes from the respected family zen’in, but unlike his relatives, toji does not give a fuck about reputations and traditions. that has casted him aside, something he is no longer sad about, he actually loves that he can do as he pleases. he study physical education, has always had a talent for fights and training, and likes the idea to be able to teach others some day. his first students was his two little cousins, maki and mai. he used to work as a partial time private trainer, but after tik tok found out, it was getting too uncomfortable with those new clients, so he started to train his friend sukuna and his little brother, yuji, the payment is extraordinary. he has a pitbull puppy named kitana and she is one of the pets at the house, and his pride and joy. he got inside MIB because gojo wanted to have him, toji refused at first, until satoru showed him the private gym of the house and toji was sold right away. he gets weirdly along with megumi whenever the boy comes visit, they bond over their dogs and strangely looking resemblance.

nanami kento is not the MIB’s president, but he stills acts like it, and gojo is more than happy to let him have that unofficial position. gojo makes the parties and pick the box with candidates names, nanami takes care of the expenses and pick the best to get into, to avoid fame seekers and people with bad reputation — some thinks he started that after gojo put sukuna inside the house. nanami takes care of the formal parts, that’s mostly influenced by his finance majoring, he spends most of time inside his room studying or bakery hopping to experiment new pastries. don’t let this take you away from the truth, this man is not a calm, educated and study inclined person, he is half-french and therefore gojo has to be careful, or nanami will start a revolution and put satoru out of the house. he easily gets distracted by his interests and his anger, and since MIB becoming a hit on the internet, he is extremely mad. nanami cares a lot about his private life, he blocked gojo on twitter after satoru quoted kento’s account and he gained a lot of weird followers — he blocked most and went private. nanami is very found of ino, and as the initiation process of complying to the older members’s request, he had to shave his head (suguru demanded as a revenge for cutting his waist long hair to his shoulder) ino was quite sad, but did it, nanami did as well to support the youngest. surprising everyone, because nanami loves his long blonde hair as well. everyone was touched, so gojo cut his as well, kinji dyed on ino’s choosing color (purple) and even sukuna did as well, but red — all was done by kinji’s partner, kirara.

kamo choso is the middle brother of sukuna and itadori, through their shared mother. he is studying computer science, but everyone knows he is doing just to get the degree, give to his mom and go do his own thing — tattoos! ever since high school, he started to work in tattoo shops as receptionists, then he started a course and now he owns his own mini parlor near campus, named garu’s tattoo, because he is often compared with the character (it has absolutely nothing do to with the fact he used to let his younger brother do his hair the same way, everyday for high school). choso doesn’t trust anyone but himself to make his own tattoos, but he folds easily when yuji asks to try, so he has a mini spider-man doing peace signs on his calf. it’s his favorite tattoo. he got into MIB because he started to be friends with his favorite client, geto, and suguru invited him. choso’s mom separated sukuna’s father and got with choso’s dad, then she left and met itadori jin, he accepted all her sons as his, and choso secretly hopes one day jin will adopt him. he likes that MIB went viral because now he has more clients, what he doesn’t like is how everyone views him as a bad boy, when he is clearly a sweetheart.

shiu kong is a transfer student from south korea, and just like nanami, he is majoring in finance, following his dad’s and grandad’s steps. his family is very rich and stoic, but shiu came to the world in a completely different way. he likes to crack jokes, smoke a cigarette every hour, and to make his family hair get white earlier. the last post he has on instagram is a video of him doing hearts, but purposely he posted because it looked like a middle finger. shiu is best friends with everyone, but mostly sukuna and toji, and outside of it he’s friends with shoko and uraume. he thinks it was bound to happen to be a hit on the internet, because of his funny and chaotic way! his twitter is where he shows his true self, actually, the header is his own picture from the day after fucking a neighbor before moving out of the apartment to MIB’s house. it’s been a month and a half and he’s feeling the effects of not getting laid in some time, not because he doesn’t have options, gojo says he wants someone to match his freak while doing a dance — he slapped gojo after that. the reason for he to be in MIB is because he thought it would be funny to piss off his dad, it worked.

hiromi higuruma is the most normal person in the house, which is something to worry about. his free time used to be spend traveling to rural areas of japan, now he stays in the sofa with achilles, his cat. he used his money to make a game room in the house with lots of pool tables and videogame consoles. he likes to bet with everyone, and he keeps winning. talking about that, everyone avoids to argue with him, at first he cared too much and would own all the discussions, specially when he would bring out the projector and show evidence of how he was right — don’t fucking argue with a lawyer. nowadays he is much chill, that’s obviously because he is in exam season and keeps inside the house or library, he left the group chat to focus on his projects and the court hearings he now attends. nanami is the one to send him all the messages he needs to see and to lend his phone in case hiro wants to add something to the chat. hiro was obliged to be part of MIB by his best friend, nanami. oh, the classmate in his twitter’s bio is utahime iori, she doesn’t now his twitter and he doesn’t know hers.

ino takuma is a lucky motherfucker. he is the youngest at the house and the newest member, out of many candidates, nanami chose him, and for that he is eternally grateful for his senior. majoring in history and having a talent for photography, ino likes to be outside all of the time, he takes pictures of every bright thing that seems to copy his happy aura, everyone finds him adorable. nanami tried really hard to keep him away from gojo, but it happened eventually, satoru is the one that matches his freak and they both kept adding fire to the other crazy ideas. they are the ones doing weird challenges and pranks on the tik tok account, and nanami keeps grounding them for it. besides hiro, achilles adores ino and is often on his lap. takuma introduced the movie “house bunny” to the boys once and now gojo wants to have the “sacrifice a virgin” party, after he found out ino is a virgin. he is embarrassed, but still thinks i’ll be awesome to slide down a fake volcano and kiss a pretty girl. . . maybe more.

ryomen sukuna is. . . something. everyone knows that one of the reasons MIB’s tik tok became a hit is thanks to his quick appearance, after all he was already know on social media before, ryomen is a professional boxer, as a way to let his anger issues dissipate and avoid hurting his brothers or friends, he punches sand bags with toji and later, willingly strangers. he is know as “one punch man” because one time he was seriously pissed with his dad, went to the ring and with just one punch, won the fight — he hated it, he needed more punches throw. ryomen is majoring in forensic science, when asked why he says is because he wants to know how to get away with a murder properly, of course he is joking but the stoic face sure scares everyone. adding to his curriculum, he also likes to repair cars, MIB’s garage is filled with everyone’s cars and there is space for sukuna’s three vintage babies, he always finds some problem in them whenever he needs to clear his mind. sukuna’s best friends are uraume, shoko and shiu, because they all don’t give a fuck about his anger issues and treat him normally. he is adored by kinji’s partner, kirara, and he actually adores them as well, but he avoids them because he can’t say no to kira, and they try to make ryomen a model. sukuna is, with choso, the target of people with the “i can change him” mentality, he adores it because it’s fucking funny the desperation. he would rather eat glass than admit, but he’s only in MIB because choso was scared to go alone, and he wants for yuji to come as well when he gets of age, he thinks his younger brother will like it. he is a good brother, he just doesn’t say much, good thing choso and yuji understand him and love him either way.

kinji hakari is the only member who is in a serious relationship, if anything, he is the only one getting any action. he never had any plans of being in college, only following his partner and luckily discovering a talent in fashion school, that was what got gojo satoru’s attention, and he begged for hakari to be part of the MIB. he almost declined, but thought it would be cool, and with his baby’s permission, he accepted. kinji brings more chaos to MIB, he likes to be the cause of his friends headache in the group chat, and also to get blackout drunk in the parties and make out with kirara on every surface. he got a lot of attention on his social media as well, but he does not give a fuck, because he thinks everyone is trying to get into his pants and he is a loyal dog man, so he says no no interactions with anyone besides his friends and love.

✶ 𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: all the appearances, are just for reference, there is no fancast just pics with the characters vibes. you can imagine them as you please. but i did edited sukuna’s hair so applause. i know nanami is half danish, but i want the revolutionary gene of france on him. TOJI’s AND GOJO’s ig has miD instead of miB, pretend you didn’t see it, pls.

✶ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: please comment if you would like to be tagged. all the chapters will be linked in this post and with the first tag @minzxec @d3jecteddoll @shuuji71 @emilyywhyy @ducky1232 @mfcherry

[oneforthemunny]

PLEASE ANYTHING WITH MAFIA EDDIE AND THE PUPPYS🥺

ogs will remember baby beelzebub (the fifth dog, a puppy mafia!edddie surprised reader with) and i'm just feeling like doing a fun, fluffy little work with them :)

"Beelzie!" Your voice carried through the hall, a shrill of a coo that teetered on a playful and exasperated. It had Eddie pausing, just for a moment, wondering if he should retreat back to his office or join you.

"No, no. You can't chew on that. That's not a toy."

The words piqued Eddie's curiosity enough to pull him into the living room, stopping at the bottom of the stairs when he saw you bent over, picking up the shredded remains of what looked like... socks.

"No," Eddie's voice boomed, echoing loud off the high ceilings of the house. Loud enough that the other four dogs sat, ears perked high on attention, while the puppy stilled for a moment, retreating close to you.

"Ed," Your frown was prominent in your words, scowling at him from over your shoulder. "Don't use your mean voice with him. He's just a baby."

Eddie scoffed, fighting back an eye roll. "A baby? He's a monster." Eddie gritted, reaching down to snatch the remnants of shredded socks- his shredded socks.

"Should've sent him to the training camp. 'S not too late to-"

"-Don't say that." You gasped, slapping his shin with a glare. "He's a puppy, Ed. He's just- He's doing puppy things!"

"He's a menace." Eddie muttered, watching the clumsy puppy trot up to Lucifer, jumping and mouthing at him to play. The older dog only gave a short growl, annoyed as he tried to sit at attention.

"It's ok, Lucy, you can play." You cooed lightly. "Tell them they can play with his baby brother. They're waiting on you, Ed."

"Why? So they can destroy the house some more? Chew on the rug again." Eddie grumbled, still, he clicked his tongue, giving a nod that they could play. Lucifer growling, pouncing on the puppy playfully as they ran around.

You collected the shreds of fabric, tossing them in the garbage, crossing the room to Eddie, your arms finding their way around his waist.

"He's just the sweetest little thing. You know he is," You gave Eddie a toothy grin, chin pressed to his chest. "Don't be mean to him. He's learning, and he's so sweet."

And he made you happy.

Really, that was the only thing that kept Eddie's sanity in line, with every chewed shoe and early morning, whining wake up call. The puppy, much like his brothers, made you happy, and therefore, it made Eddie happy.

"Gareth found trainers that can come in the day time to the warehouse and train him there." Eddie's hands slid down the back of yours arms, pulling you into him. "That way he doesn't have to be sent away."

That was the last thing he wanted, especially after the fit you threw when he suggested it. How you cried when he dropped him off, locked yourself in the guest room and refused to speak to Eddie. He'd drove two hours away that night and got the puppy back as soon as he'd arrived. He'd let Beelzebub tear the house apart before he did that again.

"Good." You hummed, your cheek pressed to his chest. You could hear his heart, the same steady thump you heard every night.

"I hope it doesn't dull his personality though." You mumbled, eyeing the puppy from across the room as he stumbled, growling and playing with his brothers. "I hope he still wants to cuddle."

Eddie bit his tongue from adding that he hoped he didn't. The newest addition was adamant on sleeping between the two of you, sprawled out and hogged you all to himself. It made Eddie a little jealous, though he'd never admit it.

"Tell them no to go too hard on him." You leaned back, lip jutted and brows pulled in a frown. The look made Eddie's heart soar.

His nose brushed yours, teeth nipping at your lip playfully, enough to get a squeal out of you. "I'm sure they won't. It's only two hours a day."

You grinned, pulling Eddie into a hot, sloppy kiss, walking him backwards to the couch. Eddie crashed under you, both your hands pulling feverishly at the other. Your legs straddling his hips, pushing him back, reaching for your own shirt until he hissed, sitting up quickly.

"Shit," Eddie muttered, brows pulled in annoyance, reaching under him and wiggling out a half chewed object. "Is that- Is that my belt buckle? A belt? What- What the fuck? Who chews up a belt?" Eyes wide in confused exasperation, sending you into a fit of giggles.

[jade-bright]

Alive Hale family, friends/bfs Sterek, they both benefit from each other greatly.

I mean, sure, Derek gets this supposedly all powerful spark who can control mountain ash with just a thought, but you know what's better than that for this middle child syndrome ass werewolf?

A second home with no werewolves that know when he's lying or to listen in to whatever he's doing, especially with the soundproofing wards (tho, all the Stilinski's have a pretty good bullshit detector but they won't try to press him if he really doesn't want to answer)

The best part, no younger cousins or sister to bother him, no older sister or uncle to purposely piss him off in order to trigger his shift as a way of "training," and he trusts Stiles and his family, so he feels he can lower his guard and can act as "wolfish" as he wants

Whenever he stays over night, or just for dinner, he gets to actually be part of the one and only conversation that's happening. Not that he does every time, he's fine with the knowledge that he can join and will be heard along with just watching and listening to the Stilinski's arguing about whatever.

Stiles, apparently from a long line of only children from both sides of his family, is ecstatic every time to go to the Hale's home.

He gets this big house full of people that match his energy in terms of like, when parents want to tire their kids out. Which is great for him since he tends to have a lot of pent of energy, when the kids and him do exhaust themselves, they end up puppy piling together on the couch and it's one of the best things ever

Up there with the puppy piles, is the nights he stays over and is able to do storytime and conjure up little lights that take the form of the story that's he's reading (he also goes about using his magic to relax the kids, in a sense? to be sure they do fall asleep by the end of the book, like the way one would use lavender to relax).

Plus they live out in the middle of nowhere and are a part of the supernatural, so he doesn't have to worry about using magic in front of the windows with the curtains open because the Hale's have no neighbors to be potentially looking in or overhearing things.

[empress-simps]

James Potter Dating Sirius’ Younger Sister (Head Canons)

Note: These are just random stuff, it has been sitting in my notes app for a month or so? Enjoyy

Oh boy, you are in for a wild ride; just imagine all the chaos this would bring. Best believe you always have a stupid prank to worry about around the corner when your brother and boyfriend are pranksters.

You were a year younger than Sirius, being the middle child, and Regulus the youngest, it wasn’t surprising that you were kind of shunned by Walburga and Orion. You’re a girl, you cannot pass the Black family name onto your children, you were also not the heir. Luckily, big brother Sirius quickly took you under his wing and became the parent figure in your life.

You were sorted into Slytherin, along with Regulus much to your older brother’s dismay.

He threw a fucking fit and practically felt his soul leave his body the first time you told him. Sirius even went as far as tearing up and looking out the window, defeated. (And quite dramatically)

“You should’ve been a Gryffindor, Y/n! I don’t even know why the sorting hat put you in that evil house!” Sirius huffed, pouting.

“Regulus is also in the same house as me, brother.”

“Well it was quite obvious that he was meant to be a Slytherin, Regulus has a stick up his a-“

Although the Marauders mainly pranks the Slytherin students, you were an exception. How could Sirius prank his adorable little sister? You don’t deserve it! (also because James is a tad bit overprotective when it comes to you, Sirius just chalks it up as James being respectful to his younger sibling.)

“Siri, please don’t make Reggie suffer too much.” You plead to your older brother, puppy eyes activating as you heard their plans to set a nasty prank to slytherin students earlier. Sirius’ features soften, “Alright, I’ll talk to James. He’ll be the one to decide.” He pats your head, already formulating an apology for the prank he’s sure will not be cancelled.

James has been harboring feelings ever since he saw you on the train ride to Hogwarts with Sirius in his second year, so it was quite obvious what his opinion is on the matter.

Sirius randomly starts later that evening, “Prongs, Y/n was asking if you could exempt Regulus in our prank-“

“Oh don’t worry I’ll cancel it.”

Peter sputters “You’ll what?”

James looked at them “What? Let’s give them a day off.” Remus did a double take and actually sets his book down after placing his book mark. Yeah, that's how you know it's serious.

“We’ve been planning this for months-“

“Did I stutter, Wormtail?”

The hold you had on James though, seriously.

James Potter is whipped for Y/n Black.

You want some food that the house elves didn't prepare for dinner? Don't worry, James is on the case! He will run to the kitchens and bribe the house elves to make you some of your favorite dishes and what you're craving.

“What’s with the long face, princess?” Sirius asks, seeing you slump down next to him, looking quite defeated.

“Just some housemates, I couldn’t study well because of them.” You grumbled, pulling out your Herbology textbook and trying to focus.

Prongs frowned, snapping him out of his daydreams (which were probably about you.)

“Who?”

James want names.

Who dared interrupt his sweet girl’s (still not his girl though but we don’t talk about that) study session?!

Remus, being the observant sod he is, looks at Prongs, amusement swimming in his eyes as he takes in James’ angry and protective form.

Remus and Peter already has a hunch that Prongs fancy Padfoot’s little sister like… about a few months or so?

James doesn’t really even try to hide it, although it was one of the greatest unsolved mysteries on how Sirius still hasn’t figured it out.

“You reckon Padfoot’s just playing dumb? Even an oaf could see Prongs making heart eyes at Y/n.” Peter stated, snacking on some chocolate frogs as he sat on his bed.

Remus rolled his eyes, also sitting in his bed at their dorm room. The boys in conversation were in their quidditch practice. “He’s quite thick, I bet he wouldn’t even know until they started dating.”

“But Y/n’s innocent- doesn’t even know how lovesick James is.”

Peter was utterly wrong about that part.

You know that James likes you, although you try to ignore it, you can’t.

Because you like him back.

“Go out with me?”

You felt yourself blanch, hearing the familiar cheeky voice behind you.

You nearly broke your neck as you spun around to see James holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers while sporting a nervous smile.

“Does my brother know this?”

“Do you think I’d still be here alive when I tell him I’m utterly in love with his younger sister?”

Sirius almost busted a blood vessel when he found out.

Remus had to physically restrain him from lunging at James.

Yea sure, Sirius views James as his brother from another mother BUT BROTHER-IN-LAW?

“Bloody hell, Pads! Calm your balls down!” Remus grunts, back hugging the boy as he desperately tries to wriggle out of his mate’s grasp.

“No! Let me go, Moony! I just want to have a chat with Prongs!”

“Chat my ass! You were about to bloody knock the living daylights out of him earlier!”

It took a while for Sirius to wrap his head around how one of his brother-from-another-mother fancies his younger sibling.

He won’t lie, he felt betrayed by James for a short amount of time. He distanced himself (for a day, lol) but of course, he couldn’t stay mad at James.

Realistically speaking? James and Remus are the ones who are good enough to date you for Sirius.

“Do you love him?”

Sirius approached you one time in a random hallway. Youwere caught off guard with his question. You never saw your brother serious like that before.

“Sirius, what are you talking about?” You tried to feign innocence, but Sirius saw through that.

“James. I know he fancies you. Have you been shagging-“

You quickly clamped Sirius’ mouth with your hand, looking at your surroundings to check if anyone heard what he said.

“Salazar’s balls, brother! I still have my virtue!” You hissed, “Besides, I’m saving it for marriage.” You told him, making his tense shoulders relax.

“Atleast there’s something good that came out of those boring lectures Walburga taught us.”

“I am not a whore like you, brother.” You snickered, a playful smirk present on your face as Sirius slowly processed what you said.

“Why you little-“

It would take some adjustments for Sirius as he slowly takes in the fact that you and James started dating.

It doesnt help the fact that James always proclaims his undying love for you every chance he gets, which is every time.

Although, before he even asks you to be his girl, he talked to Sirius first, asking for his blessing.

Who is Sirius to deny his little sister and Prong’s happiness?

“I just love her so much…” James sighs dreamily, watching you from the Gryffindor table as you ate in silence beside Regulus, who was uncomfortable and tries to shield you from James’ looks (which he finds creepy).

Sirius can feel his eye twitch.

“Can you stop that Prongs? Just say that to her when you’re alone in a room.”

James frowned, “But you don’t allow us to be alone-“

“Exactly, Prongs. I don’t care if she’s your girlfriend—wife even. She’s my younger sister.”

James perked up, “So you’re alright with her being my wife?!”

Hogsmeade dates with James always.

“Honey, you don’t have to get me that necklace.”

He would buy you anything and everything you land your eyes upon more than 1.5 seconds.

He frowns, looking like a kicked puppy. “But you were staring at it!”

“It just crossed my line of vision-“

James certainly went back and secretly bought it for you.

No one can stop him when it comes to spoiling you.

Effie and Fleamont absolutely adores you.

“So, when is the wedding?” Effie smiled, looking at you and James expectantly

Cue Sirius choking in the background.

You blushed as James cleared his throat awkardly, a beet red blush already dusting his cheeks. “Mum…”

Effie blinks, acting innocent. “What? You guys are about to graduate from Hogwarts in… three months or so!”

Your family found out about the relationship.

Walburga’s stinging slap was marked on your cheek. “Have we taught you nothing, girl?!”

Regulus watched worriedly from the side, feeling helpless as Walburga continued to shout and curse at you.

“You good for nothing brat! I should’ve married you off ages ago! To think you’d turn out to be your older brother… Leave! And never come back as you will be no longer welcomed in the house of black!”

Regulus begged to take him with you.

Having nowhere else to go, you knocked on the door of the Potter Manor tiredly, holding your suitcase and Regulus looking around nervously.

Sirius was the one who answered the door.

“she hit you…” James muttered lowly, softly placing his warm hands on your cheek.

“It’s nothing, James.” You shrugged.

“We’ve suffered worse. I’m sure you’ve known that by now.” Regulus told him quietly, not looking up from his cup of warm tea before his eyes flickered to Sirius.

From that moment on, everything seemed to be better.

You’re happy to get out of the abusive household. Bringing Regulus with you, being reunited with your older brother, and hanging out with your boyfriend anytime you want.

Finally graduated from Hogwarts, James decided to pop the question.

“Padfoot..? You in there?” James nervously knocked on Sirius’ bedroom door.

“In here, Prongs! Hold on.” James heard shuffling before the door opened to reveal Sirius rubbing his eyes, seemingly woken up from a nap. He opened the door to let James in his room.

Sirius eyes him, noticing how fidgety one of his best friends are, his mind assumed the worst.

“I swear to Merlin, Prongs. If you got her pregnant and don’t plan to be responsible for it I’ll-“

James sputters, “What?! No! No one’s having a baby!”

Sirius visibly relaxed, “Then what’s gotten you looking so troubled?”

James pulls out a velvet box from his pocket and opened it to reveal an engagement ring.

“Erm… I’m not Y/n, Prongs.”

Cue a face palm from James, “I’m planning to marry your sister, not you, Pads. I’m asking for your blessing.”

Sirius didn’t think twice before giving him his blessing.

Which was why he and Regulus were dragged alongside Remus and Peter to plan a prefect surprise proposal.

“No no, it’s a bit crooked on the right.” James told Regulus, who was setting up the picnic blanket.

“Sirius, remind me again why I have decided to help this stupidly nervous sod?” He deadpanned to his brother.

“It’s for Y/n, Reggie.”

Regulus frowns, scrunching up his nose as he watches James run around like a headless chicken who’s trying to oversee everything.

“Right…”

“Where’s the ring?!”

Regulus could only sigh as he watched James panicking and looking in every nook and cranny, searching for the velvet box with the ring inside— that was obvious in his back pocket, where he placed it five minutes ago.

[lee-laurent]

Home Away From Home -- Luke Hughes

Summary: Annika isn't gonna fall for the stupid hockey guy her parents are housing... right?

content: angst, implied smut but no explicit smut, some makeout scenes, fluff!!

wc: 8.9k

notes: i love this trope so here we are!! enjoy!!

Annika hadn't signed up for this.

She sat at the kitchen island, her arms crossed, watching her mom fuss over a plate of freshly baked cookies. George Thompson, her dad, was setting up the dining table with an enthusiasm that made her roll her eyes. The boys--twelve-year-old Alex and nine-year-old Flynn--were practically shaking with excitement.

"Do we really need cookies?" Annika asked, a touch of exasperation in her tone. "We're not adopting a puppy. He's just a guy. A hockey player, at that."

Andrea turned, a stern look on her face. "Annika, be polite. Luke is our guest. He's going to be a part of this family while he's here."

"Right," Annika muttered, "because this house isn't already crowded enough."

"Hey!" Alex piped up, shooting her a look of betrayal. "Luke Hughes is not just a guy. He's going to play for the Devils! He's super awesome!"

"Yeah!" Flynn added. "And he's way cooler than your boring boyfriend."

Annika groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "For the last time, Bryce and I broke up like three months ago."

"Probably cause he wasn't cool like a real NHL player!" Alex nodded.

Andrea shot the boys a warning glance but said nothing as she placed the plate of cookies at the centre of the table. "All I'm saying, Nick, is that this is a big adjustment for him too. He's young, he's new to Jersey, and he needs a supportive home environment. So please, try to make him feel welcome."

Nick refrained from commenting, though her skepticism must have been obvious, because her dad chuckled. "Come on, Nick. You might like the kid. Who knows?"

She doubted it. Sure, Luke Hughes was talented--she'd heard her brothers talk about him nonstop since her parents agreed to host him--but "some guy who skates for a living" didn't exactly sound like the type of perso she wanted to hang out with.

Still, when the doorbell rang, she couldn't help but feel a little curious.

~~

Luke hadn't expected to feel nervous.

But as he stood on the porch of the Thompsons' suburban house, duffle bag swung over one shoulder, his nerves hit him like a train. He rang the doorbell twice, the chime ringing out into the evening air.

The door swung open, and two kids stared up at him like he was a rockstar.

"Whoa," the older one--Alec or Alex, Luke couldn't remember--breathed. "You're really Luke Hughes."

Flynn just blinked, his jaw practically on the floor. "You're so tall," he finally said, wide-eyed.

Luke laughed awkwardly, glancing past the kids as an older man appeared in the doorway.

"You must be Luke," George said warmly, extending a hand. "Come on in, son. Welcome to our home."

"Thanks for having me," Luke said, stepping inside. The house smelled like cookies and furniture polish--cozy and warm, a sharp contrast to the hockey house he'd lived in the last two years.

The rest of the family came into view, and Luke felt the weight of their attention. A kind-looking woman who must've been Mrs. Thompson smiled warmly, and then his gaze landed on the girl standing behind her.

She was... unexpected.

Annika's arms were crossed, her expression unreadable. She didn't seem particularly thrilled to see him, though Luke couldn't tell if that was because of him or if she was just naturally unimpressed by life.

"This is Annika, our oldest," Andrea said, gesturing to her daughter.

Luke offered a hand. "Hi."

"Hey," Annika replied shortly, barely glancing at him before turning to her mom. "Can we eat now, or...?"

Luke's hand fell awkwardly to his side. Okay, then.

~~

Luke followed the Thompsons into the dining room, where the table was already set with a plate of cookies and some milk. He wasn't sure if it was meant to be welcoming or if they thought he was still ten years old, but the gesture was nice.

"Sit, sit!" Andrea said, waving him toward the table like he was royalty.

He slid into a chair, his bag at his feet. Across the table, the two boys continued to gape at him like he had two heads.

"Can I touch it?" Flynn blurted out, and Luke's eyebrows shot up.

"Your hockey stick," Alex clarified, giving his brother an exasperated shove.

"Uh, yeah, sure," Luke said, chuckling nervously. "I left it by the door. I can show you later."

"Awesome!" Flynn squealed.

Nick, leaning against the doorway with her arms still crossed, looked like she might die of secondhand embarrassment. Her blue eyes were narrowed in thinly veiled irritation.

"Boys, give him a minute to settle in," Andrea scolded softly. "Luke, you can call me Andrea, and that's my husband George." She gestured at her husband, who was helping himself to a cookie. "You've met the boys, Alex and Flynn."

"Yep," Luke said with a smile. "They're... enthusiastic."

"And Nick already introduced herself."

"Nick?" Luke tilted his head, confused.

Annika sighed as though she'd had to explain this a million times. "It's short for Annika. You know, like a nickname?"

"Oh. Got it."

Luke was quickly starting to realize that Annika wasn't the "warm and fuzzy" type.

"Nick's a student at Rutgers," George chimed in, as though sensing he needed to fill the silence. "She's studying communications. Smart kid, but she's a bit of a grump."

"Dad," Nick said sharply, though her cheeks flushed slightly pink.

"Don't mind her," George added with a conspiratorial grin. "She's just mad she doesn't have her bathroom all to herself anymore."

Nick shot Luke a look, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Sharing a bathroom? Great. This was going to be... interesting.

~~

By the time Luke hauled his duffle bag up the stairs, he was ready to crash. The Thompsons were nice--mostly--but the whirlwind of introductions had left him drained.

"This is you," George opened a door at the end of the hall. The room was small but tidy, with a twin bed, a desk, and a window overlooking the backyard.

"Thanks," Luke said, dropping his bag onto the bed.

"Bathroom's just down there to the left," George added. "Sorry in advance if Nick complains about you using it. She's not used to sharing."

Luke nodded, unsure how to respond. George clapped him on the back and left, leaving him alone to unpack.

"Just so we're clear," Nick showed up in the doorway. "I don't care if you're some big hotshot hockey player. It's still my house, and if you leave your gross hockey gear lying around, I will throw it out."

Luke blinked, caught off guard. "Uh... noted?"

"Good," she said, her tone sharp enough to cut steel. She started to leave, then paused, glancing over her shoulder. "And don't take forever in the bathroom. Some of us actually have places to be besides the hockey rink."

Before he could respond, she was gone, leaving Luke standing there with a pair of socks in his hands and the faintest trace of a smirk on his face.

She was definitely going to be a challenge.

~~

Nick woke up the next morning to the sound of running water and muffled thud from next door. Groaning, she rolled over and squinted at the clock on her nightstand. It was barely 6:30 a.m.

"Seriously?" she muttered, pushing the covers off.

Her first day sharing a bathroom with Luke was off to a fantastic start. Wrapping herself in her fluffy robe, she shuffled out of her room, only to nearly collide with Flynn, who was standing in the hallway, clutching his toothbrush.

"Is he still in there?" Nick asked, jerking her thumb toward the bathroom door.

"Yeah," Flynn said, his voice tinged with awe. "I think he's doing hockey stuff. Like stretches or whatever."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "In the bathroom?"

Flynn shrugged, and Nick let out an exasperated sigh. She banged on the door. "Hey, Hughes! Some of us need to use the bathroom too, you know!"

There was a brief pause before the door cracked open, revealing a very shirtless Luke. His hair was wet, beads of water clinging to his skin, and he held a towel loosely around his waist.

Nick froze.

"Uh... sorry?" Luke said, looking sheepish. "I didn't think anyone else would be up yet."

"Yeah, well," Nick snapped, forcing herself to look anywhere but at his chest, "you're not living in a bachelor pad, so maybe keep it moving."

"Right. Got it." He stepped aside, gesturing toward the sink to let her pass.

Nick brushed past him, her cheeks burning, and shut the door firmly behind her.

~~

When Nick made it to the kitchen, she was still fuming. Flynn and Alex were already seated at the table, shoveling cereal into their mouths like Luke sat across from them, wearing a hoodie and looking way too innocent.

"Morning," Andrea chirped, sliding a plate of scrambled eggs in front of Nick. "Sleep okay?"

"Would've been better if someone didn't turn the bathroom into his personal sauna," Nick muttered, shooting a pointed look at Luke.

To her annoyance, he just smirked. "I'll set an alarm for 6:29 next time. How's that?"

Alex snorted milk out of his nose, and Flynn started laughing so hard he nearly fell out of his chair.

"Luke's funny," Flynn declared, as though it was groundbreaking news.

"Luke's annoying," Nick corrected, stabbing her eggs with a little more force than necessary.

Andrea sighed. "Annika, be nice. Luke, honey, make sure Annika has time in the bathroom too."

"Yes ma'am," Luke grinned.

Nick glared at him, but his smile only grew.

~~

Nick had classes at Rutgers until late afternoon, which was usually her excuse to escape the chaos of her house. Today, though, chaos seemed determined to follow her.

She was sitting at her favourite coffee shop near campus, trying to focus on a group project, when her phone buzzed with a text from Alex.

Alex (12:34 PM): Guess what??? Luke said he'd come to my game on Saturday!!!

Nick rolled her eyes but responded anyway.

Nick (12:35 PM): wow! cool, bud. tell him to pack an extra helmet in case you miss a slapshot

Her phone buzzed again almost immediately.

Alex (12:36PM): u r not funny

Nick smirked, but her amusement was short-lived. A voice behind her said, "You look like you're plotting someone's downfall."

She turned to see Luke standing there, hands shoved in the pocket of his hoodie, looking slightly out of place in the sea of students.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, frowning.

"Your mom said you had the extra car... and I need a lift to the rink."

Nick blinked. "So you walked here? Just Google how to walk to the rink."

Luke shrugged. "Figured you'd just let me borrow the car."

She sighed, grabbing her laptop and shoving it into her bag. "Fine. Come on."

~~

That evening, after dinner, the boys dragged Luke into the living room for a mini hockey practice. Flynn wore a devishly determined look as he tried (and failed) to get the puck past Luke, while Alex gave commentary.

Nick watched from the sofa, trying not to smile. It was hard to keep her guard up when Luke was crouched on the floor, pretending to dramatically miss a save just to make Flynn cheer.

"He's good to them," Andrea whispered, sitting down beside her.

Nick blinked, startled. "Huh?"

"Luke," Andrea said, nodding towards the game of floor-hockey. Luke had ruffled Flynn's hair, earning a high-pitched giggle, and Alex was laughing so hard he had to clutch his side.

"Yeah, I guess," Nick admitted reluctantly. She wasn't ready to admit that Luke might've been slightly, a tiny bit okay-ish.

~~

She wasn't sure when she started noticing the little things about Luke.

Maybe it was the way he always made time to answer Alex and Flynn's endless questions about hockey. Or how he seemed genuinely interested in her every meal her mom made.

Or maybe it was that he wasn't as cocky and annoying as she'd originally thought.

Not that she'd admit it.

Saturday morning found Nick sitting in the bleachers at Alex's hockey game, sipping a lukewarm coffee and trying to focus on anything other than Luke, who was perched on the edge of the bench next to Flynn.

"Think he'll embarass himself?" Luke asked, lowly enough that only Annika could hear.

"Alex?" Nick smirked. "Absolutely. He lives for the drama."

Luke laughed, and Nick hated how much the sound didn't make her cringe. He was wearing a Devils cap pulled backwards over his messy curls, a plain hoodie, and an easy smile. It was almost... attractive.

The game started, and Alex threw himself into it with the subtlety of a wrecking ball. He wasn't the most skilled player on the ice, but his enthusiasm was unmatched.

"Go, Alex!" Flynn shouted, nearly toppling over the edge of the bench.

Nick found herself glancing at Luke occasionally, surprised by how invested he looked. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, watching Alex like it was Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals.

When Alex scored--a chaotic, scrappy goal that Nick was pretty sure only counted because the ref was feeling generous--Luke jumped up to his feet, clapping and cheering louder than anyone else.

"You act like it's the Olympics," Nick teased as he sat back down.

"What? That was awesome!" he said, still smiling like an idiot. "Kid's got guts."

Nick shook her head, but a smile tugged at her lips. She hadn't seen Alex light up like that in a long time.

The parking lot was full of parents chatting as they loaded their kids and gear into cars. Alex was still on cloud nine, his sweaty hair sticking to his forehead as he recounted his goal for the tenth time.

"And then I deked left, and the goalie totally fell for it!" Alex said, demonstrating with exaggerated movements.

"More like you tripped into the puck," Nick teased, ruffling his hair.

Alex scowled. "You weren't even paying attention!"

"I was," Luke cut in, slinging an arm around Alex's shoulders. "And I think it was a sick goal."

Alex beamed up at him, and Nick had to admit--grudgingly--that Luke's support was doing wonders for her brothers' confidence.

"Thanks, Luke," Alex said. "Maybe you could help me practice my shot sometime?"

"Yeah, anytime, dude," Luke said without hesitation.

Nick's mom appeared then, holding Alex's bag. "Luke, seems like you're fitting in just fine around here."

Nick rolled her eyes but didn't comment.

~~

Back at the house, Alex and Flynn insisted on replaying the game on the living room floor, complete with mini-sticks, a foam ball, and way too much shouting.

Nick sat, pretending to read while Luke crouched on the floor, acting as a goalie.

"Careful," Luke warned, blocking one of Flynn's shots. "I don't want to break another lamp."

"That was Alex's fault!" Flynn protested.

"Was not!" Alex shouted, aiming another shot.

Nick couldn't help but laugh as the foam ball ricocheted off the wall and into Luke's chest.

"Game over," Luke declard, collapsing dramatically onto the floor.

The boys groaned, but Nick was grateful for the silence as they finally trudged upstairs, still arguing about whose shot was better.

Luke sat up, running a hand through his hair. "Your brothers are intense."

"They're obsessed with you," Nick said, closing her book. "It's kind of nauseating."

"Jealous?"

"Of what? The chaos? No, thanks."

He stood, stretching, and Nick's eye flicked to the hem of his shirt, which rode up just enough to reveal a sliver of toned abs. She quickly looked away, hoping her cheeks weren't as red as they felt.

"Good game today," she said, standing and heading toward the stairs before he could say anything else.

"Thanks," he called after her, and there was something in his voice that made her stomach flip.

~~

Nick paced back and forth in her room, her phone pressed to her ear as she tried to keep her voice down.

"I'm telling you, Mia," she whispered, "he's insufferable. Like, he doesn't do anything that bad, but the fact that he exists in my house is enough to drive me fucking insane."

On the other end of the line, Mia snorted. "Translation: You're fucking obsessed with him."

"What! No?" Nick flopped onto her bed, glaring at the ceiling. "I'm just... he's in my way. All the time. The bathroom thing? Unforgivable. And he's always around, charming my brothers and being all polite to my mom, and--it's annoying!"

"You're mad because he's polite?" Mia teased. "Wow, Nick, you're really reaching."

Nick groaned, throwing an arm over her face. "You don't get it. He's--ugh. He's just one of those guys, you know? All... awkwardly cute and unexpectedly funny and stupidly attractive--"

"Uh-huh," Mia interrupted, her voice laced with amusement. "Say that last part again?"

Nick sat up, her face heating. "I didn't mean it like that!"

"Sure you didn't."

"Mia," Nick hissed, her eyes darting toward the door. "I'm serious. He's just--fine, okay? I'll admit it. He's hot. Like ridiculously, stupidly hot. But that doesn't mean I don't hate his guts."

"Hate his guts? You sure you don't just want him to rearrange yours?"

Nick groaned. "I can't stand you?"

"And yet here you are, calling me for emotional support about your hot hockey housemate," Mia said smugly. "What a tragedy."

"He's just... objectively attractive. I can hate someone and still recognize that they're good-looking. Those two things can coexist."

"Sure, Nick," Mia giggled. "Whatever you say."

Nick groaned, burying her face in her pillows.

Flynn crouched in the hallway, his ear pressed to the crack under Nick's door. Beside him, Alex knelt, covering his mouth so he didn't giggle too loudly.

"Did she just say Luke is hot?" Flynn whispered, eyes wide.

"She totally did," Alex grinned.

Flynn giggled. "We have to tell him!"

"Duh," Alex said, scrambling to his feet.

The boys darted down the stairs, giggling like they'd just discovered the best secret in the world.

Luke was sitting in the living room, flipping through channels on the TV, when they skidded to a stop in front of him.

"Luke!"

"You're not gonna believe this!"

Luke quirked an eyebrow, setting the remote down. "What's up, guys?"

"Nick thinks you're hot!" Flynn blurted out, unable to contain himself.

Luke blinked, caught completely off guard. "What?"

"She said it on the phone," Alex explained. "She was talking to her friend, and she said you're 'ridiculously, stupidly hot.'"

Flynn nodded eagerly. "She also said you're annoying, but mostly that you're hot."

Luke huffed out a laugh, leaning back against the couch. "She actually said that?"

"Yup!" Flynn said proudly.

Luke shook his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Alright. Thanks for the intel."

The boys high-fived and ran off, leaving Luke alone with his thoughts.

Ridiculously, stupidly hot, huh?

He filed that tidbit away, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. He didn't plan on using it right away--but when the right moment came, he'd be ready.

A few hours later, Nick came downstairs to grab a glass of water, grateful that the house was finally quiet. She froze when she saw Luke in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a glass in hand.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked casually.

"Nope," she said shortly, pouring herself some water.

As she turned to leave, she felt his eyes on her, and her steps faltered.

"What?" she snapped, glancing over her shoulder.

Luke shook his head, his expression unreadable. "Nothing. Just... interesting."

"What's interesting?"

"Nothing you'd want to admit," he said with a slight smirk, turning back to his drink.

Nick scowled, marching back upstairs, vowing to ignore whatever cryptic nonsense he was playing at. Behind her, Luke chuckled softly to himself, his smirk only growing.

~~

Annika was still determined to go about her life as if nothing had happened. Luke was still the irritating, too-hot-for-his-own-good hockey player who'd invaded her space. Nothing more.

But he wasn't making it easy.

It started small. Like how he suddenly seemed to be everywhere she was.

Case in point: the kitchen.

Nick had just finished a workout and was rummaging through the fridge for a bottle of water when Luke appeared, freshly showered and leaning against the kitchen island.

"Morning," he said, annoyingly chipper.

"Morning," she replied shortly, avoiding eye contact.

"Work out hard?" he asked, his gaze sweeping over her.

Nick's head snapped up. "What?"

"You're all flushed," he said innocently, taking a slow sip of his protein shake. "Maybe you overdid it."

Her cheeks heated further, and she hated that he'd noticed. "I'm fine," she said, grabbing her water and slamming the fridge shut.

Luke smirked, watching her retreat.

~

That weekend, Andrea sent Nick and Luke to pick up groceries. It was supposed to be a simple errand, but the tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Nick fiddled with the AUX, flipping through songs until Luke reached over and stilled her hand.

"Pick something already," he said, his fingers brushing hers.

The touch was brief but electric, and Nick pulled her hand back like she'd been burned.

"What's your problem?" she snapped.

Luke shrugged, trying to conceal his amusement. "No problem. You just seem... jumpy."

"I'm not jumpy," she said through gritted teeth.

"Okay?"

Nick gripped the phone a little tighter, silently cursing him and the stupid butterflies in her stomach.

~~

That evening, the family decided to have a movie night. Nick reluctantly joined, sinking into the sofa and snatching the bowl of popcorn.

Luke sat beside her, closer than necessary, his knee brushing against hers as he man-spread.

She stiffened, but he didn't move.

"Comfortable?" she asked, shooting him a pointed look.

"Very," he said innocently.

Andrea shushed them, and Nick tried to focus on the film. But every time Luke shifted, she was hyper-aware of the warmth of his thigh against hers.

Halfway through, he reached for the popcorn, knocking her arm with his.

"Do you mind?" she hissed under her breath.

"Not at all."

Nick gritted her teeth, determined to ignore him. But when the movie ended and she stood to leave, he softly caught her wrist.

"Hey," he said, locking eyes with her. "Relax. I'm just messing with you."

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a second, she couldn't look away.

"Whatever," she muttered, yanking her hand free and hurrying upstairs.

~~

Alex and Flynn barreled into the kitchen, sweaty and red-faced from playing street hockey.

"We crushed the neighbours!" Alex announced, dropping his stick and gloves on the floor.

Flynn followed suit, throwing himself onto one the barstools at the island. "Yeah, but Alex missed like ten open shots."

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Guys," Nick interrupted. "Gear in the laundry room. Now."

The boys groaned but trudged off, muttering under their breath. A minute later, Luke strolled in, hair damp from a shower. He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and hopped to sit on the counter, watching Nick with his lopsided grin.

"You run a tight ship," he teased.

"Someone has to when my parents aren't home."

Before Luke could respond, the boys returned, still arguing.

"Whatever," Alex said, rolling his eyes. "At least I'm not as bad as Bryce."

Nick scowled, her stomach sinking. "What does Bryce have to do with anything?"

"Nothing," Flynn said, grabbing a cookie off the counter. "Just saying Alex is better than him at hockey."

Luke's brow furrowed, gaze flickering between Annika and the boys. "Who's Bryce?"

"No one," Nick glared at Alex.

"Her boyfriend," he said, completely ignoring her. "Well, ex-boyfriend. He was like super into hockey but I think he sucked. Nick used to help him with his stats for school."

Nick shot him another warning look. "Shut up, Alex."

Flynn, too young to realize the tension in the room, chimed in, "He coached Alex's team last year, but he's not as cool as you, Luke."

Annika could feel Luke's eyes on her and turned away, busying herself with wiping an already-clean counter. "Bryce is like... history. Can we drop it now?"

The boys shrugged, losing interest as they rushed off to play Xbox.

Luke lingered, arms crossed, watching her closely. "So... Bryce?"

Nick sighed, turning to face him. "It's not a big deal. We dated for a while. It didn't work out. End of story."

Luke nodded slowly, though his expression shifted slightly. "Sounds like a real winner."

Nick narrowed her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing... nothing. Just that he doesn't sound like much competition."

"Competition for what?"

He shrugged. "Relax, Annika."

"You're fucking insufferable," she mumbled, pushing past him and heading for the stairs.

~~

Luke was still thinking about Bryce.

He told himself it didn't matter, that it was none of his business, but the image of some guy hanging around Nick, talking hockey and being such an important part of her brothers' games, made his chest feel tight.

Jealousy wasn't a good look on him, but there it was, simmering just under the surface.

He was sprawled on the couch when Nick came downstairs again, her arms full of laundry. She stopped when she saw him, a guarded look on her face.

"Still brooding about Bryce?"

Luke smirked, trying to mask his annoyance. "Why would I brood about some guy I've never met?"

"Good question."

Her tone was casual, but the way she avoided his gaze told him she was more affected by their earlier conversation than she cared to admit.

She shook her head, going to walk past him. But just like the other night, he grabbed her wrist. "For the record, I don't think he deserved you."

Nick just stared at him, blinking slowly.

"Goodnight, Nick."

And with that, he got up and walked away, leaving a very confused Annika in his wake.

~~

The rain started in the late afternoon, a light drizzle that quickly turned into a full-on downpour.

By the time Nick got home from class, her sneakers were soaked, and her hair was plastered to her face. She shoved the door open with a grunt, muttering curses under her breath.

"Rough day?"

She startled, looking up to see Luke in the living room, also soaking wet, with his bag slung over his shoulder. He must've just gotten back from practice.

"Rain fucking sucks," she said shortly, kicking off her shoes and peeling off her wet socks and jacket.

"Not a fan of Jersey weather?"

"Not when I have to walk through it because someone took the car," she snarled, brushing past him on her way to the kitchen.

He followed, watching as she rummaged through a cabinet for a snack. "Where's the rest of your family?"

"Out," she said, grabbing a box of crackers. "My mom took the boys to the movies, and my dad's working late. Why?"

"Just curious."

Nick turned to look at him, but before she could reply, a sudden crack of thunder made the house shake. The lights flickered once, twice, and then everything went dark.

"You've got to be kidding me," she groaned, fumbling for her phone.

"Relax," Luke said, his voice steady. "It's just a power outage."

"No big deal for you, maybe," she muttered. "I've got work to do."

"Yeah? What kind of work?"

"The kind that requires electricity."

"Well, unless you can magically fix the power grid, I'd say you're stuck."

Nick rolled her eyes, but she couldn't ignore the flutter in her chest at the way his voice sounded in the dark--low and teasing, but with an edge she couldn't quite place.

"Great. Guess I'll just sit here and wait for the apocalypse."

"Or," Luke said, his voice closer now, "you could stop being so dramatic and light some candles."

Nick scowled, but another loud crack of thunder made her jump.

Luke laughed. "Scared of storms?"

"Of course not," she snapped, though her hands were trembling slightly.

"Right."

Nick shook her head, retreating to her bedroom, hoping to escape the weird tension that always settled between them. She lit a few candles, their warm glow casting flickering shadows on the walls, and tried to focus on her textbook.

But her thoughts kept drifting--to the storm, to the empty house, and to Luke.

She didn't even hear him knock.

"Hey," he said. "Mind if I hang out in here? It's kind of creepy downstairs."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "You're a professional hockey player, and you're scared of the dark?"

"Not scared. Just bored."

She sighed, gesturing for him to come in. He shut the door behind him and sat on the edge of her bed, his presence suddenly overwhelming in the small space.

For a while, they sat in silence, the sound of rain pounding against the windows filling the room.

"You're quiet," Luke said eventually.

"So are you."

He glanced at her, his eyes catching the candlelight in a way that made her stomach flip. "You've been weird around me lately."

"I'm always weird around you."

"Not like this," he whispered.

Her heart started thudding against her chest. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Nick."

She froze at the way he said her name--soft, almost pleading. When she finally looked at him, the intensity his gaze made her breath catch.

"Are we just gonna keep pretending this thing between us doesn't exist?"

"What thing?"

Luke huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. "You're really gonna make me say it?"

She didn't answer, and in the silence that followed, he got closer.

The air between them crackled, the storm outside quiet in comparison to the sound of her heart.

"I think about you... way more than I should."

Her breath hitched at his words, and he leaned in, his hand brushing hers.

"Nick," he whispered, his lips hovering just inches from hers. "Tell me to stop."

But she didn't.

Instead, she closed the distance, her mouth crashing against his in a messy kiss of spit and teeth.

His hands quickly found her waist, pulling her until they tumbled onto the bed. Hers found the curls at the nape of his neck. And outside, the storm faded into nothing.

~~

The storm had become nothing but a soft patter of rain against the windows. Nick lay across her bed, Luke's arm draped lazily across her waist as they caught their breath.

The room was warm and still dark, the flickering candlelight casting a soft glow over their bodies. Nick could feel the steady rise and fall of Luke's chest against her back, his skin sticky but still comforting against hers.

"You're sweaty," she mumbled, her voice muffled by the pillows.

Luke chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "So are you."

She wrinkled her nose but didn't move, too content--and too tired--to care.

They lay there in comfortable silence for a while, the weight of what had just happened settling over them. It wasn't awkward, though. If anything, it felt... right.

Luke broke the silence. "You know, the candles really set the mood."

Nick snorted, turning her head to look at him. "Oh, totally. Very romantic."

"You don't think so?"

She rolled her eyes, biting her bottom lip. "Honestly? It might've been the most romantic sex I've ever had."

"High praise."

"Don't let it go to your head."

They fell quiet again, Nick tracing lazy circles on Luke's arm as his fingers skimmed along her hip.

"Can I tell you something?" Luke said suddenly.

"Sure."

"Your brothers... they told me."

"Told you what?"

"That you think I'm hot."

"They what?!"

"Yeah," Luke smirked, clearly enjoying her reaction. "Apparently, you were on the phone with your friend, and they overheard you saying I'm 'ridiculously, stupidly hot.'"

Nick stuffed her face in the pillows, groaning. "Oh my God. I'm gonna fucking kill them!"

"I mean," Luke continued, "I wasn't going to say anything, but now that we're here."

"Shut up."

He laughed, gently tugging her out of the pillows. "Hey, I'm flattered. Really."

"Don't be," she said, though the blush creeping up her neck betrayed her.

Luke leaned in, his lips brushing against her temple. "For the record, I think you're ridiculously, stupidly hot too. Still wanna kill your brothers?"

"Absolutely," she said, but her voice was lighter now, her cheeks still pink.

Although killing her brothers didn't really matter when she was laying in bed with Luke.

~~

Nick had no idea the thrill that sneaking around would give her.

There was something almost intoxicating about the stolen moments--the way Luke's touch would linger as he walked past her, the charged glances across the room, the whispered goodnights as they traded the bathroom.

It was dangerous and utterly addictive.

She hated how much she liked it.

Family dinners at the Thompsons were always chaotic (as were most things in their house). Andrea was bustling between the kitchen and the dining room, carrying plates of steaming food, while George tried to wrangle Alex and Flynn into their seats.

Luke sat across from Nick, his expression perfectly innocent as he buttered a piece of bread.

Nick didn't trust him for a second.

The meal started without incident--Andrea asking Luke about practice and an upcoming roadie, Flynn babbling about a school project, Alex loudly debating which NHL team had the best defence. Nick tried to focus on her food, keeping her gaze firmly away from the boy across the table.

Until she felt it.

A soft nudge against her ankle.

She froze, her fork halfway to her mouth, and glanced up. Luke's eyes were on his plate, the faintest hint of a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

Nick shifted her leg, but the nudge came again--this time more deliberate, slowly moving up her calf.

Her eyes narrowed.

Subtly, she kicked back.

Luke's smirk widened, but he didn't react otherwise, his foot pressing against hers in a way that made her stomach flip.

"Nick," Andrea said, snapping her out of the moment. "Pass the salad, please."

Annika blinked, her face burning as she shoved the salad bowl across the table.

"You okay?" her mom raised an eyebrow.

"Fine," Nick said quickly, glaring at Luke.

He looked up then, his smirk replaced with an innocent smile. "Everything alright, Nick?"

She wanted to throttle him.

Instead, she dropped her napkin on the floor, ducking under the table.

"What're you doing?" Alex asked as she crouched, fumbling for the napkin.

"Nothing," she muttered.

She grabbed the napkin--and Luke's ankle.

He jerked slightly, his leg pulling away, but she squeezed just hard enough to make her point before sitting back up.

"You sure everything's okay?" Andrea asked, her tone tinged with suspicion.

Nick forced a smile, her heart pounding. "Just peachy."

Across the table, Luke's smirk was back, but this time it was tinged with something darker--something that made Nick's breath catch in her throat.

~~

Later that evening, they weren't so lucky.

Andrea had sent the boys upstairs to clean their shared room while she and George tidied up the kitchen. Nick, seizing the opportunity, had slipped into Luke's room under the pretense of "helping him settle." As if he hadn't lived there for weeks.

Luke was waiting for her, his grin smug as he pulled her inside and shut the door.

"You're getting reckless," he teased, his hands sliding around her waist.

"You're the one who started it... and keeps tempting me," she shot back, her voice breathless as he backed her against the closet door.

"Is that so?"

Her lips found hers, and for a moment, she forgot all her worries--her parents, the risk, the fact that her brothers were just down the hall.

Until the footsteps started.

"Luke!"

Nick froze as Flynn's voice rang out.

"Shit," she whispered, shoving Luke back.

He stumbled slightly, but didn't stop smiling. "Relax."

The door burst open a second later, Flynn standing there with hockey stick in hand.

"There you are!" he exclaimed. "Alex and I want you too referee!"

Luke cleared his throat, stepping back even further from Nick. "Uh, yeah, for sure. Be right there."

Flynn squinted at his big sister. "What are you doing in here?"

"Helping him find something," she lied, her face burning.

Flynn shrugged. "Okay, whatever." He turned and darted back down the hall, yelling for Alex."

Nick let out a shaky breath, her head dropping back against the closet.

"That was close."

Luke chuckled, stepping closer again. "Too close?"

"Yes," she hissed, swatting his arm as he leaned in.

"You love it," he teased, his lips brushing her ear before pulling back. "I'll see you later."

And just like that, he was gone, leaving Nick to realize that she did, in fact, love it.

~~

The bathroom was filled with steam, despite the fan being on. The warm spray of the shower drowned out the storm that had started outside.

Nick leaned back against the cool tiled wall, her skin slick with water, as Luke pressed a line of soft kisses along her collarbone.

"This is so stupid," she mumbled, her hands sliding over his shoulders.

"Probably," he agreed, smirking as he pulled back to look at her. "But when have we ever done anything smart?"

"If we get caught--"

"We won't," he promised, pushing his lips against hers.

The sound of a knock at the bathroom door had them both pulling away.

"Luke?" Andrea's voice called from the other side of the door.

"Oh my God," Nick mouthed, her heart hammering inside her chest.

Luke held a hand up, silently telling her to stay silent, before clearing his throat. "Uh--yeah?"

"Have you seen Annika?" Andrea asked. "I thought she might be in her room, but she's not."

Luke shot Nick a panicked look, and she mimed strangling him, her lips forming "fix this."

"Uh, no," Luke said, scrambling for an excuse. "I think she said something about--uh--going for a walk?"

"A walk? In this weather?"

Luke winced, cursing himself for the lame excuse. "Yeah, she, uh...said she likes the rain. Said it's like refreshing or something?"

Nick buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

There was a long pause on the other side of the door, and Luke could practically feel Andrea's doubt seeping through the wood.

"Well, alright," she said finally, though her tone was still dubious. "Let me know if you see her, okay?"

"Will do," he said, waiting until he heard her footsteps retreating before turning to Nick.

She was doubled over with laughter now, her hands braced against the wall. "Refreshing?" she wheezed, still whispering. "That's the best you could come up with?"

Luke scowled. "You're welcome."

Nick pressed her chest against his, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Guess I should be grateful," she whispered, her lips brushing his ear. "You're quick on your feet when panicking."

"Yeah, well," his hands settled on her waist, "let's just hope your mom doesn't start asking more questions."

Nick smirked, leaning in to kiss him softly. "Guess we'll have to be more careful, huh?"

"Guess so."

~~

They'd barely recovered from their bathroom incident, but Luke seemed determined to push their luck even further.

They were standing in the kitchen, the rest of the family scattered--Andrea folding laundry upstairs, George in his office, and the boys glued to a hockey game on the TV.

Nick was just trying to make herself some tea, trying to ignore Luke's presence at the counter, when she felt him move closer.

"Relax," he wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning in his chin on her shoulder. "Nobody's around."

"Ugh, you're insane."

"Probably," he said.

"Luke, not here," she tried to escape his grasp, but his hockey training must've been paying off because he wouldn't budge.

"Why not?"

"Because we almost got caught earlier. You're pushing our luck. If someone walked i--"

Her words her cut off as he spun her around, her lips ghosting his. She crumbled instantly, her fingers gripping the counter as she kissed him back.

"Annika!"

"Fuck me," she groaned, jerking back so quickly she almost knocked the kettle over.

"Later," Luke retorted, earning a glare.

"What?" she called back.

"I need some help up here! Can you make your brothers' beds?"

"Uh--yeah! I'll be right there, Mom!" She pressed her palms against Luke's chest. "You're a bad influence."

He shrugged, moving to let her escape upstairs with her tea in hand, but not without giving her ass one last squeeze.

"I hate you."

"No you don't."

~~

Luke seemed determined to finish what they started in the shower, because he'd managed to be in the laundry room just as she was heading there to grab her mom a blanket.

"Are you fucking tracking me?"

"Just lucky timing."

"You're going to be the reason we get caught."

"Only if you scream," he teased, boosting her on top of the washing machine.

"Luke..."

"Relax," he pressed a kiss to her neck.

She really wanted to believe that they'd be in the clear down in the basement, but apparently her parents really wanted that spare blanket.

"Let's go, Nick! Chop, chop!" George shouted from the top of the stairs.

"Coming! Coming!"

"God, why is it so hard to get you alone?" Luke groaned.

"Welcome to my life."

~~

It was bound to happen sooner or later.

Nick knew their little game of sneaking around was risky, but she hadn't pushed it to stop. She blamed Luke entirely--his stupid smirk, his stupid face, the way he couldn't seem to ever keep his hands to himself.

But when the door to her bedroom flew open late one afternoon, she swore she had a heart attack.

"Annika!"

Her mom's voice was sharp, the shock in her tone unmistakable as she stood frozen in the doorway.

Nick and Luke jerked apart like they'd been electrocuted, the tangled sheets doing little to hide the situation.

"Mom!" Nick shrieked, her face going bright red as she scrambled to grab the blanket.

Andrea's eyes darted between them, her face covered in disbelief and mortification. "Luke?"

Luke, to his credit, managed a sheepish smile he sat up, adjusting his shirt and ruffling a hand through his hair. "Uh...hi, Andrea."

She blinked, her mouth opening and closing like she was trying to form words but she couldn't process what she was seeing.

"I--I'm gonna go see your father," she shook her head, backing out of the room and slamming the door shut behind her.

Nick groaned, burying her face in her hands. "We're so fucking dead."

Luke flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. "I told you to lock the door."

"Luke!"

"Yeah, this is... not ideal."

~~

The tension in the living room was palpable as Nick and Luke sat on the sofa, side by side, waiting for her parents to join them. The rest of the house was quiet for once--Alex and Flynn had been banished upstairs with strict instructions not to come down.

Andrea and George finally appeared, their expressions grim as they sat down across from the couple.

"Well," George began, clearing his throat. "This is, uh... unexpected."

Nick wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

Andrea crossed her arms, her gaze sharp as it landed on Luke. "I think we need to have a very serious conversation about boundaries."

Luke nodded quickly, the confidence he'd felt the last few days nowhere to be found. "Of course. Absolutely."

She turned to Nick, her tone just as firm. "Annika, you're an adult, and I understand that you're going to make your own decisions, but this is our home. And there are certain... expectations."

Nick groaned, slouching further into the couch. "Mom--"

"No," Andrea interrupted. "This is important. You're under our roof, and we expect you to be respectful of that."

George cleared his throat again, clearly uncomfortable. "What your mother is trying to say is, uh, we don't want anything... inappropriate happening here."

Nick buried her face in her hands, her voice muffled. "Can we not do this right now?"

"We absolutely need to do this right now," Andrea said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

She turned back to Luke. "We welcomed you into our home, Luke, and we expect you to behave like a gentleman. This... this cannot happen again. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Luke said quickly, nodding so fervently it was a wonder his head didn't fall off.

"And that goes for you too, Annika," Andrea added, fixing her with a pointed look.

"I get it," she muttered, her face still hidden.

"Good," Andrea said, standing. "Because if I find you two in a... situation again, you're both going to regret it."

George stood as well, patting Luke awkwardly on the shoulder. "Just, uh, keep things... above board, okay?"

"Got it."

The parents left, leaving Nick and Luke in stunned silence.

After a long pause, Nick finally spoke, her voice still muffled by her hands. "I'm never leaving his house again."

"I don't know. I think that went pretty well," Luke let out a breathless laugh.

Nick finally dropped her hands to glare at him. "Pretty well? Are you kidding me?"

"Hey, at least your dad didn't kill me... or cut off my balls."

"You-- UGH!"

"If you say so."

~~

The shift in the house was obvious.

Andrea seemed to materialize whenever Luke and Annika were in the same room, her watchful gaze making Nick's skin crawl. George was less obvious but still lingered nearby, pretending to fiddle with the thermostat or check a sports score while clearly keeping tabs on them.

Even Alex and Flynn had picked up that something was wrong, their usual teasing replaced with curious glances and hushed whispering.

"Your mom's fucking scary," Luke said one evening, his voice low as he passed Nick in the hallway.

"You're telling me," she muttered, glancing over her shoulder to make sure nobody was around.

Luke smirked, leaning closer. "So... does this mean we're done?"

Nick frowned. "Done with what?"

"This," he gestured between them.

She hesitated, gnawing at her bottom lip. "I don't know. Do you really think it's worth getting caught again?"

Luke leaned against the wall, his grin softening into something more sincere. "Yeah. I do."

"You--"

"I'm insane, I know But I'm not ready to let this go. Are you?"

Her walls crumbled as he reached out, his fingers brushing against hers.

"Fine," she whispered. "But you have to keep it under wraps. I'm not dealing with my mom's wrath again."

"Deal."

~~

Keeping things under wraps was easier said than done.

Every interaction felt like a minefield, with Andrea constantly dissecting their every move.

Luke made it harder by being... well, Luke.

He would brush against her as he passed by. He'd lean in close to whisper something that wasn't remotely necessary.

It was maddening.

One night after dinner, they were in the kitchen, Nick washing dishes while Luke dried. Andrea was sitting at the table, her back to them, flipping through a magazine.

Luke bumped her hip with his, his voice low. "You're tense."

"Gee, I wonder why."

"She's not even looking," he grinned, reaching for a plate.

"She doesn't have to look. She knows everything."

"You're paranoid."

~~

Sitting in the backyard under the stars, finally having time together. Their hands were intertwined as they stared up at the sky.

"Is it really worth all the trouble?" Nick whispered.

"Of course it is," he replied, swinging their hands.

"Why?"

"Because I like you."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

Nick didn't respond, but the smile on her face told him all he needed to know.

~~

A quiet afternoon in the Thompson house was hard to come by. The boys were upstairs playing video games, Andrea and George watching a show in their room.

Nick and Luke were taking advantage, lounging on the sofa and watching a movie.

Well, trying to watch a movie.

Luke kept nudging her with his knee, a silent plea for attention that she ignored for as long as she could.

"What?" she paused the movie, turning to look at him.

"Nothing. Just... thinking."

"Dangerous," she teased, though her stomach fluttered at the way he was looking at her--soft yet serious.

"Nick," he said, his voice lower. "I've been thinking about this for a while now."

"Okay..."

"I want to make this official," he said, his hand finding hers. "I know we've been sneaking around and keeping things quiet, but I... really, really like you. And I want to do this for real."

"You're asking me to be your girlfriend?"

"Yeah... I guess I am."

Nick hesitated. She knew this was risky, that saying yes meant inviting even more complications into their already chaotic situation.

But as she looked at him--his goofy grin, the way his thumb brushed over her knuckles--she knew she couldn't say no.

"Okay. Let's do it."

Luke's grin grew, and before she could second-guess herself, he leaned in and kissed her.

"Ew!"

They sprang apart, Flynn stood in the doorway, his face scrunched in disgust.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, pointing an accusatory finger at them.

Nick scrambled to her feet. "Flynn! Don't you knock?"

"This is the living room!" he retorted. "You can't kiss here!"

Luke cleared his throat, standing up and running a hand through his hair. "Uh, maybe we keep this between us, bud?"

"Why?"

Nick groaned. "Flynn--"

But he was already running toward the kitchen, yelling at the top of his lungs.

It didn't take long for Alex to join the chaos, and before Nick and Luke could figure out what to do, both boys were standing in front of their parents, firing off questions.

"If Luke and Annika get married, does that mean he gets to live here forever?" Flynn asked, his face alight with excitement.

"Wait, does this mean Luke is our brother now?" Alex added, his brow furrowed.

"Do you think Luke will take us to games since he's Annika's boyfriend?"

Andrea's eye widened, snapping to Nick and Luke, who were standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"Annika," she said slowly, her tone suspiciously calm, "is there something you'd like to tell us?"

Nick opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. She glanced at Luke, silently begging him to say anything, but he looked just as panicked.

"Well?"

Nick swallowed harshly. "It's not what it looks like--"

"It's exactly what it looks like," Flynn interrupted. "They were kissing on the couch!"

"Flynn!" Nick hissed.

Andrea sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as George rubbed the back of his neck.

"Annika," Andrea said firmly, "we talked about boundaries."

"I know! And we only kissed! We've been careful!"

"Careful? You were kissing in the living room!"

Flynn leaned over to Alex, whispering loudly. "Do you think they kiss a lot?"

Luke coughed, trying to stifle a laugh, but one sharp look from Andrea wiped the grin from his face.

"This isn't funny. We'll be having a conversation about this later."

"Great!" Nick threw her hands up.

~~

There they were, sat on the couch... again. Two angry parents in front of them like they'd just gotten in trouble for something stupid.

"Alright," Andrea said. "Start talking."

Nick glanced at Luke, who gave her a small, reassuring squeeze of the hand before she cleared her throat. "Look, I know this isn't ideal, but... Luke and I really like each other."

"Really like each other?"

Nick nodded, her voice steadier now. "Yes, and we've been trying to keep it low-key because we didn't want to make things weird for everyone else."

Andrea snorted. "Well, that worked out great."

"I know it's a lot to ask," Luke said, leaning forward. "But I care about Nick. A lot. And I don't want to mess up the trust you've shown me by letting me stay here, and I don't want to make things uncomfortable for your family. But I also don't want to pretend I don't... like Nick."

Her gaze softened slightly, though her expression remained guarded. She looked at George, who shrugged.

"They're adults," he said simply. "I'm not thrilled about it, but it's not like we can tell Nick who she can and can't date."

Andrea sighed, hands on her hips. "I guess that's true. But if this is going to continue, there are going to be rules."

Nick and Luke exchanged a quick glance, relief washing over them.

"Rules?" Nick asked cautiously.

"Yes, rules. First, no sleeping in each other's rooms. Doesn't matter if you're both adults, it's my house, that's my rule."

"Understood," Luke nodded.

"Second," she continued, "keep the PDA to a minimum. Especially in front of the boys. I don't need Alex and Flynn asking any more awkward questions."

"Agreed."

"Third...if I catch you breaking these rules, this arrangement is over. Got it?"

"Got it," they said in unison.

"Alright. As long as you respect the rules, I won't stand in your way."

"Thank you," Luke said sincerely.

"Don't screw this up, kid," George whispered to him as he left.

"I won't."

~~

A few months later, the whole Thompson family was packed into The Rock, cheering as the Devils faced off against the Pens.

Alex and Flynn were decked out in jerseys, cheering as loud as they could, while Andrea and George clapped politely whenever Luke's name was mentioned.

Nick sat by her brothers, trying (and failing) to hide her smile every time Luke skated by.

When he scored late in the first period, Flynn jumped out of his seat, yelling at the top of his lungs.

"THAT'S MY SISTER'S BOYFRIEND!"

Nick groaned, pulling her Hughes jersey over her red face as the people around them laughed.

But when Luke glanced at their section, his grin wide as he pointed toward her, she couldn't help but cheer just as loudly.

Because, for better or for worse, Luke was a large part of her life now. And she wouldn't have it any other way.

[bunny-jpeg]

✿❯────「✿i'm get money, i'm a star - toto w.✿」────❮✿

"daddy." you said as you straightened out your back a little bit. you crossed your arms under your breasts and stuck them out a little more. but toto wasn't looking away from the morning paper. you shifted from one foot to another, "daddy!" you sounded a little more whiny. in all fairness you had been standing there for almost three minutes and your daddy still hadn't given you a lick of attention. his eyes on the paper, even your whines went on deaf ears.

you got closer to him and leaned forward, getting your breasts in the way of his paper. he looked at you, creases in his brow as he adjusted his glasses, "yes, mon cheri." you knew toto wolff was good with his tongue, you've seen him switch between languages with ease, and also that time he made you cum from three strokes of his tongue. you looked at him and he kept his gaze on your eyes. you pouted a little, "you're ignoring me." "i wasn't, treasure. i have to keep an eye on the economy if you want that trip of france next month." you didn't know what he was talking about, all you knew about the become was that green meant good and that toto had a lot of it. you said, "but, you were ignoring me."

even the most dangerous man in central europe wasn't immune to your puppy dog eyes.

toto wolff was smitten by you. if he wasn't they would've never found your body. toto wasn't fond of yappy idiots, but you were endearing. the way the light reflected off your eyes, how you were so eager to please, anything toto needed from you, he got. you were so gentle, you'd never survive outside of his grasp. you were safe with him. he knew the problem with most girls your age was that, they were too stubborn and didn't listen to an older guiding hand. such pretty things wasted on running their mouths. some need to sit there and look pretty. listen when being spoken to. you let his words soak in your brain and his cum soak in your panties. he was a scary mafia boss, the wolff from hell. and you were the little thing he picked up along the way. the tiny thing with the pouty lips and doe-like expressions. who rubs her pretty breasts all over him to get his attention and is whiny like a puppy. eventually you got into his lap and he put the paper down.

he kissed at your face for a moment, "you need manners, treasure. you cannot go around and become a brat. i trained you better." his rough words made you rub your thighs together as you clung to his t-shirt. you looked at him, his larger frame loomed over you like a domineering shading. it casted you in darkness as he looked at you. you giggled a little, "you look good in your glasses, daddy." he held you closer, "well, that's good to know. now, what does my treasure want? what was so important that you had to tell me right away." you giggled and licked your lips, then pressed your breasts up against him. your curious eyes gazed at him, "i missed you. i woke up and you were out of bed." he chuckled and held the back of your head with tenderness, "well, it's already past noon most would be out of bed by now. but not you, right, schatzi?" you nodded at him as you felt his hard cock against your lower back. you clung to him and he leaned in for a kiss as he held you close to him. you squirmed a little bit more and he kissed you again. you felt so delicate in his touch, you knew what he had done. the lives he had taken with his own hands. they were large and the strength to them could easily bruise you if not out right kill you. but with you he was much nicer, more aware of his strength. he was aware that when he got his fingers between one of your nipples, that he was holding onto you with a bruising pressure. he watched you whine and squirm at his touch. "needy girl." he said, "usually you're so good for me. don't tell me you are slipping. i'd hate to train you again, it was hard to house break you the first time." that his way of saying that he made sure that you were his ideal woman. and you happily accepted it. why would you deny your mafia lover. the big scary wolff. you rubbed your hips against his and said, "no, i've been good and i'll keep being good." and then made a small noise when he pressed his lips against yours. those were the words he liked to hear.

he wanted to hear you were good for him. when he finished groping your breasts he got you over the kitchen table. when he pulled down your sleeping shorts, he saw that you were not wearing panties. someone missed him, someone was thinking about him when they woke up. you felt his cock pressed against your back as he rubbed your clit with your shorts around your left ankle. he kept another hand wrapped around your throat. his voice was low in your ear as he rubbed his clothed cock up against your soaked pussy, "are you going to be good, schatzi, or?" you swallowed and arched your back and responded, "i'll always be good for you, daddy." you held onto the edge of the table and let yourself be tease. you pouted with your cheek against the expensive wood of the table. you should be thankful that he didn't rip your clothes off of you, it would've have been the first time he did that. your back arched when you felt him slide his cock into you, you whimpered a little bit and then pressed your cheeks against your crossed wrists for some kind of cushion against the unforgiving table. toto hissed through his teeth as he moved against you. his cock as deep as it could go and it felt like it was in your stomach. his pace was unforgiving, you were so good under him. you always were, a good little puppy for him. letting him use and abuse your sweet sex for his own pleasure, you knew every ache would be soothed with kisses and by the next day your daddy would buy you something pretty. only the best for the boss' pet.

you didn't need to think, just be at your knees like a good girl. be all smiles and delicate in your lover's grasp. and while you didn't need to think you had to be polite to toto's 'friends'. toto continued to move against you, your hips hitting against the edge of the table. the older man had to admit, getting a good feel of your pussy first thing in the morning was better than any coffee. it lit him like a wire and made him move harder against you. if the table was any lighter it would be moving against the floor. his hips gripped onto your hips as he kissed at your neck, his cock felt so good inside of you. it messed up your insides and made you pant heavily against the wood. you could barely form words, just 'daddy' coming out like a pathetic little chant. it only turned toto on further. you were toto wolff's pretty little thing, the shiniest diamond in his collection. he kissed at the side of your neck as he rutted against you. he listened keenly to your soft noises and felt something hot in his gut. you were beautiful. "always so good for me, treasure." he said, "under me like a good girl." his voice was rough and rubbed against the sides of your head perfectly. you felt flushed as you tried to keep up with his rapid pace. when you came, your pretty pink nails gripped onto the flat surface of the table, you whined against the your wrists and it only fueled his fire. "please, daddy." you said softly.

he was a dangerous man, but he always found a softness between your legs. he angled your hips a little higher, putting you on your tip-toes and pushed you further against the table. it rocked against his hard thrusts as he panted heavily against your heated skin. his words were mush in your over stimulated brain, but it made you feel hot. "you look beautiful like this. under me. you know exactly how to get the attention you want. you're a needy little whore, but that's alright. i'll give you all the attention you want." he kissed the shell of your ear before he gave a few more heavy thrusts of his hips. soon he finished inside of you with a heated groan. he didn't want to admit that his legs were a little wobbly as he came down from the high. that was the effect of your wet cunt. when he pulled out, he shoved two fingers inside of your slick hole once more, he loomed over you as he battered your pussy with his thick digits. the roughness of the tips dragging across your more sensitive areas has you whimpering. toto was far from finished with you.

if you wanted daddy's attention so badly, then he'd give it to you in spades.

maybe begging for attention wasn't the smartest idea, but as you laid out on the table, sweaty and hot, the thought didn't cross your mind. only your lover's thick fingers making a further mess of your pretty pussy.

[dollfacefantasy]

RESIDENT EVIL MASTERLIST ♡

everything on this list is mdni (18+)! | ☆ = one of kenny's favs

★彡[ʟᴇᴏɴ ᴋᴇɴɴᴇᴅʏ]彡★

RE2R Leon: restless dreams (18+) leon's been working a lot lately. he comes home late one night when you're sleeping and tries to make it up playing to win (18+) / part 2 ☆ your new stepdad asks you to call him daddy despite being near your age like lovers do (18+) bored of the rpd banquet, you pull leon away for some fun

RE4R Leon: sleepy (18+) you wake up early in the morning with leon sleeping on top of you wash his hair (fluff) you wash leon's hair and help him unwind daddy's home (18+) you let the d word slip during sex and leon won't let you live it down just like the movies (18+) leon dons the ghostface mask to let you live out a fantasy and if the sun comes up (18+) | part 2 vampire leon has to show you that the two of you are meant to be leon marks you request (18+) leon gets jealous and has to mark you as his sweater request (18+) you and leon do the deed while he's wearing a turtleneck chubby reader request (18+) You're feeling insecure, and Leon just can't have that

Infinite Darkness Leon: let them see (18+) leon teases you in public then pulls over to deal with the problem he's created baby bunny (18+) / part 2 leon helps his sweet baby bunny through her heat end of the night (18+) leon finds comfort in his pregnant wife after a long hard day of being in the mob needy girl (18+) you're a needy little thing, and leon just can't get enough of you precious in pink (18+) leon plays with his precious puppy girl by watching her tail wag

RE6 Leon: hold my calls (18+) ☆ leon takes a call on his flip phone while the two of you are doing it blue jeans (18+) leon looks extra fine in his jeans and you can't stop staring some extra lessons (18+) ☆ professor leon deals with his feelings for one of his students under my thumb (18+) leon tries out a new toy with you during a dinner date

Vendetta Leon: you make me cry every time (18+) leon is going through a rough patch and takes it out on you cool rider (fluff) leon gets you ready for a ride on his bike role reversal (18+) leon's on the other side of the law for once

Death Island Leon and older: video games (18+) you're playing video games when leon starts feeling needy can't help it (18+) ☆ your dad's coworker needs a house sitter and you need him inside of you cowgirl + praise kink request (18+) leon's got a praise kink and you ride him down for the count (18+) play fighting with leon gets a little intense special day (18+) your husband wants to give you a special present for your birthday this year did you say something? (18+) / part 2 ☆ spankings aren't working anymore. leon's gonna have to use a different form of punishment get him back (18+) ☆ Your ex boyfriend's dad comforts you after you and his son break up little bambi eyes (18+) leon grapples with his strange fixation on your tears

Misc. Drabbles: just can't resist (18+) the first time you squirt (18+) passing out (18+) quiet night (18+) kennedy in the making (18+) dimples blurb when you wanna turn your brain off (18+) shower sex (18+) bulge kink (18+) blowjob on the phone (18+) black cat blurb (18+)

★彡[ᴄʜʀɪꜱ ʀᴇᴅꜰɪᴇʟᴅ]彡★

puppy games (18+) ☆ chris develops a soft spot for the hybrid he's taken in and wants to make her birthday extra special

teddy bear (18+) ☆ not even sleep will cockblock chris

pretty when you cry (18+) request for overstimulation and daddy kink with chris

dad-bod chris (18+) must I say any more?

playing without permission (18+) pussy spanking drabble

that's what daddy's for (18+) ddlg drabble

past the limit (18+) you misbehave and your boyfriend has to correct you. even if his friend leon is right there.

thigh praise drabble (18+)

everything in its right place (18+) after jill goes missing, your boyfriend isn't the same

unconventional lesson (18+) throat training w/ chris

light of the full moon (18+) your husband hasn't been the same since coming back from his latest mission.

★彡[ᴄᴀʀʟᴏꜱ ᴏʟɪᴠᴇɪʀᴀ]彡★

infected with infatuation (18+) you and carlos are out on a mission when you come into contact with an unfamiliar plant specimen

like rabbits (18+) carlos and his bunny girl

★彡[ᴀᴅᴀ ᴡᴏɴɢ]彡★

may i? (18+) ada teaches you how to be self-sufficient

concealed carry (18+) knife play with ada

★彡[ʙɪʟʟʏ ᴄᴏᴇɴ]彡★

falling fast (18+) in a situation like this you can't help but fall fast

★彡[ᴍᴜʟᴛɪ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ]彡★

sharing is caring (18+) / prequel / part 2 your boyfriend wants you to get a little more comfortable with his friend

better than one (18+) leon and ada take care of their needy puppy before your heat arrives

room for one more (18+) ☆ tensions run high when you're forced to share a motel room with your current boyfriend and your former mentor

sweet escape (18+) carlos leaves you in chris's care while he's away for a few weeks

which one to choose? (18+) at a halloween party, you and your boyfriend play out a little fantasy with chris and carlos.

on all sides (18+) jill and ada get you back in line

snow on the glass (18+) the kennedys take care of their nanny

[cheeseatlantic]

yuhh one look give em whiplash!!! beat drop with a big flash korean korean korean think fast!!!!

CoD characters as parents!

price, gaz, ghost, soap, alejandro, rudy, graves, valeria, keegan, hesh, logan, ajax, kick and könig… 😞

Price would be a very nice dad, as in would be the dad that LOVES his kid’s friends, takes them as his own and if a friend comes to his house they are eating at least a snack. but a partner? quokka fluffy price is being brutally stabbed and his cold captain comes into play, silently judging your kid’s partner and you have to hit him and scold him to be nice. eventually warms up and the two go on fishing trips together.

Gaz carries around two pink sparkly backpacks for his two daughters, loves them. And those bags have all the essentials, snacks, toys, change of clothes and hand sanitizer. Doesn’t matter where you go the backpack is coming too, and he insists on carrying it too! You just watch him take over and you just relax. Probably cried on the first day he dropped his girls off at school.

Soap, this man holds his son like a dad holding a fish, funniest shit ever. Accidentally swears in front of his son, his son is like a parrot and says the swears everywhere and Johnny thinks it’s funny, until you get mad at him for teaching the kid how to swear. Definitely makes explosives with the kiddo in the backyard, keeps them safe of course but scares the shit out of you.

Ghost? GIRL DAD THROUGH AND THROUGH. Him with a teenage girl is a dangerous combo, any boy looks at her funny to Simon and he’s pulling up to pick his little girl up in full tactical gear to scare off any potential boyfriends/girlfriends. Definitely helps her with school projects, except he’e massive and somehow accidentally makes minor mistakes. Or has stickers on his face, has his nails painted occasionally or plays princess dress up and drinks his tea pinky out and legs crossed, little plastic princess heels made for a four year old on his big toes.

Alejandro would definitely encourage your kid(s) to do extracurriculars, and at events he will be the absolute loudest person cheering. With signs, and everything. Let’s use soccer as an example he would be a soccer dad, got the van and everything. Makes sure the kids respect you, if not they will get a scolding and a firm tap with the slipper, he would never hurt him.

Rudy would be the most tolerant dad ever, want to stay out late? Maybe if he knows who his kid is out with, sure. A sucker for puppy dog eyes though, one time his kid saw someone selling bunnies on the side of the road and looked at it for a second too long, few years down the line you have a rabbit the size of a small dog and Rudy absolutely adores it.

Graves is the daddest of all dad’s if that makes sense. Does the weird throat thing at ungodly hours, the hand thing when the kids have snacks in the car and carries them around on his shoulders, probably cream abuses them (aggressive lotion application)… Makes sure his kids get outside and they will have a strict screen time limit until like middle school. Caught him playing Barbies with your daughter once.

Valeria is the definition of protective mother, she would be strict but means well. If one of her men lets say scares your kid she is yelling at the man until he cries. Definitely keeps her kids out of her line of work, but never her line of sight. HELICOPTER MAMAAAAAA

Keegan would be the type of dad to stay up with your baby when their fussing at night, or as you guys call it ‘the night shift’. When the baby starts babbling he just nods along, tells you that “Look at ‘em! Planning world domination, definitely my spawn.” Would tell them to take swimming classes and all that survival shit to be safe when their older. Made the baby a tiny version of his mask and carries a rattle wherever he goes in his pocket. (mandatory)

Hesh would definitely make Riley reveal the gender with a tennis ball filled with pink or blue pigment, trained Riley to bring him clean diapers, pacifiers and everything. Him and Riley are basically teaming up to raise this kid, and you don’t really have to worry about much.

Logan would be very interesting, would give your baby a whole apple to eat if their growing their teeth in but makes them wear an apron and keeps the area extremely clean if their painting. Frames every little painting and probably does those cute little crafts with them like the pumpkin butt thingy.

Ajax is probably the funnest dad quite literally ever, installed a whole play place in your guys’ backyard just because, makes sure to make the kiddos childhood as memorable as possible which means doing stupid shit with them and occasionally ending up at the doctors for a broken arm or something. Definitely freaks out when they get sick and buys everything, just piles the medications at the store in when you ask him for medicine.

Kick is totally becoming a soccer mom, Lululemon insulated mug, the van and a cooler with snacks in the back. Probably known as the ‘cool dad’ at your kid’s school. Definitely feeds into brainrot and such to keep the cool dad status. Your kid probably turned into a partial iPad kid.

Seeing König with a baby for the first time was absolutely hilarious to you because he was so big and the kid was so small, definitely refused to breathe on the baby incase he hurt it. But once he started holding the baby he turned into a jungle gym, let’s the baby use his mask as a baby blankie, made himself a new one. Spends way too much on the baby… A concerning amount.

i really feel sigma rn guys