#i had a pretty good streak of A Few Months going there

[spiderh0rse]

going through it again (missing the shadowrealms server)

[clarionglass]

here we go :) part one of three, updates to be released weekly!

---

sam says 4 (game master cinematic universe, part 3)

Ruby was at her mum's for a family dinner she couldn't miss on pain of death, apparently, and the Doctor was many things, but a family dinner kind of guy wasn't one of them—particularly when Carla had already slapped him once in the short time he'd known her. He thought he'd broken his streak of bad luck with mums, but… well, seemingly not. So he was companionless for a few hours, and while he could wait for her to get back, maybe catch up on his reading—what was the point of waiting when you had a time machine? 

He ran his hands over the TARDIS console, marvelling at her clean lines and metallic flourishes, the way that even now she felt brand new but familiar, and paused. He’d just pop off for a quick adventure, nothing too dangerous, but—where to go?

He could scan for a distress call nearby, and pitch in to help. He could drop in on Donna and Shaun and Rose, beautiful Rose, and see how they were all doing. Or he could just hit the randomiser button, and jump in feet first wherever he ended up.

He remembered a conversation from a long time ago, when he wore a different face, and his gorgeous TARDIS wore a face too, for the first and only time.

“You didn't always take me where I wanted to go.”

“No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”

He grinned. Who could resist an offer like that? He pressed the button and whooped as the time rotor spun into action, ready to see where the universe would take him.

---

Apparently, he was needed pretty close to where he already was. Earth, 2024. Huh. Same planet, same time—within a few months of where he’d left Ruby, even. The main thing that had changed was the location: he was now in the good old US of A. California, to be more specific, and Los Angeles to be more specific still. And to really narrow it down, the Doctor discovered as he poked his head out of the TARDIS doors, he was in… a broom closet. Not bad, as a parking spot—a bit squeezy, but out of the way. And as he poked his head out of that door, he could finally see he was in the backstage corridors of a studio of some kind. Film or TV, if he was to hazard a guess, it was a different vibe from Abbey Road.

With a shrug, he decided to go exploring.

It couldn’t have been more than a minute before a young woman wearing the full-black outfit, headset, and permanently stressed expression of a production assistant came running up to him.

“Are you the fill-in Sam organised?” she asked breathlessly, and honestly, seeing the look on her face, the Doctor didn’t have the heart(s) to tell her no. And really, what was the Doctor, if not a professional fill-in? This, this was why he had a randomiser button on the control panel, because whatever he was about to get himself into was going to be fun.

“Sure!”

“Oh, thank god,” sighed the production assistant, relief dawning across her face. “When Ally tested positive this morning, I thought we were sunk for the record, because we called around and we couldn’t get a hold of anyone. But then Sam said he could get someone in, and, you know, here you are, and just in time, so—ah, yeah, if you could follow me this way?”

Smiling all the way, the Doctor followed his guide through to hair and makeup, looking around as they went. The studio seemed to belong to a company called Dropout, according to the branding scattered around, and things seemed, at least on the surface, to be… well. Fine. He couldn't tell why he'd been brought here yet, which meant that when he found the reason, it was going to be particularly tangled. He couldn't wait! 

And then he looked back at his guide, still engulfed in a miasma of anxiety, and realised he'd been too busy looking for clues to notice the person right in front of him. 

“Hey, it's cool, you've found me,” he started with a gentle smile. “You can relax. Hi, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?”

“Oh!” she said, startled. “The Doctor, yeah, of course. Um, hi, I'm Kaylin. Look, sorry, it's just that I've been so busy this morning, I'm so distracted… Shit, and I would've completely forgotten to get your details too. There's paperwork to fill in, but you can do that later. Um, just for now, though, can I get your pronouns?”

The Doctor thought for a moment. “He/him, for now.”

Kaylin nodded, making a note on her phone. “Okay, cool! And do you have any socials?”

“Not me, babes,” he replied. “I'm hardly sitting down long enough to be able to update, you know?”

“On a day like this, I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “That's okay, Lou didn't have socials either for the longest time. Right, so if you go through there, the team will get you sorted, and once you're done, someone will take you up to the greenroom. All good?”

“All great,” the Doctor replied. Kaylin flashed him a quick, relieved smile, then hurried off.

Hair and makeup was a fairly quick process, the sound mixer fitted him with a microphone, and before too long, Kaylin was back to take him upstairs. 

“This is the greenroom,” she said, pushing the door open. “The rest of the cast for the episode are already here—they’re great guys, and they’ve both been on the show a lot, so they’ll be able to help if you’ve got questions. And if you need anything else, just come find me or any of the other PAs, okay?”

The Doctor nodded, beamed at Kaylin, and walked in.

---

The greenroom was small but comfortable, and its occupants, two men around the same age as the Doctor appeared, looked up as he entered.

“Oh, you’re new,” the taller of the pair said, clearly giving him the once-over.

The other sighed with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, just as clearly used to his friend’s antics.

“Hey, I’m Brennan,” he said, levering himself up to standing from his perch on a chair arm, and holding out a hand. “That’s Grant.”

The Doctor took it warmly. “The Doctor. Just passing through, and happy to help.”

Grant’s eyebrows quirked. “Doctor… something?” he prompted.

“Or is it just ‘the Doctor’?” Brennan asked.

“Just ‘the Doctor’,” the Time Lord confirmed cheerfully. “You’ll get used to it, everyone does.”

Grant didn’t look convinced, but—

“Copy that,” Brennan shrugged, and settled back on the arm of the chair, returning his gaze to the door.

Grant, in turn, looked at the Doctor and rolled his eyes in a clear expression of ‘no, I don’t know why he’s like this, either’.

“Okay,” the Doctor said after a moment of watching the watching. “I wasn’t going to ask, but now I think I have to. What’s up with the door?”

Brennan huffed a laugh. “Well, the last time there was one of those up—” he pointed to the Out of Order sign stuck to the bathroom door, “—we got locked in here for the game.”

“He’s paranoid,” Grant interjected.

“Well, yeah, maybe,” Brennan retorted. “Or just cautious. Because Sam’s been acting weird lately, and we’re coming up to the last few records of the season, so he’s probably planning something way out of the box for the finale. And the original cast was you, me and Beardsley, so…”

He shrugged one shoulder meaningfully, and Grant nodded, conceding both the point and the potential for chaos.

“So if Sam comes in to give us the briefing, rather than waiting til we’re on set,” Brennan continued, “or there’s anything else weird going on, I’m gonna know about it right from the beginning.”

He turned to the Doctor. “The only reason I'm not quizzing you is because I know for a fact Beardsley was genuinely scheduled for this, so you can't be a plant by the production team. No offence.”

“None taken,” the Doctor smiled. “That sort of thing happen often, does it?”

Grant and Brennan exchanged a look. 

“More than you'd think,” Grant answered with a grimace. 

“Alright,” the Doctor said slowly, then brightened. “So what is it we're actually doing?”

Grant gave him a disbelieving glance. “You don't know—?”

“Very last minute fill-in,” the Doctor said breezily. “But don't worry, I'm a quick study.”

“Well, you're not that much worse off than the rest of us,” Brennan said encouragingly. “You know about Game Changer, obviously, if you know Sam, and we only find out the rules of the game once we get on set. Hopefully,” he added, with a dark look back at the Out of Order sign. 

The Doctor nodded. No, he didn't know Sam, and he didn't know Game Changer, but he could work out the situation from context clues. This was a game show. And with the Toymaker banished, and Satellite Five not coming into existence for another 198000 years, give or take, he found himself smiling. Maybe third time would be the charm. 

“Mmm, hopefully they aren't going to throw you in the deep end,” Grant said. “Because Brennan might seem lovely now, but as soon as we get out there, he's a whore for points. He'll stab you in the back and won't even blink.”

Brennan barked with laughter. “Yeah, and you wouldn't?”

“Excuse you, I'm always a goddamn delight,” Grant replied, the very picture of injured dignity. 

“Oh, absolutely!” agreed a new voice. The Doctor turned to the now-open door to see a bearded man in a pinstriped suit smiling broadly. “That's why we keep inviting you back!”

Grant bowed sarcastically. “Why, thank you, Sam. Good to know I'm appreciated by someone here.”

“Always,” Sam replied, gently but firmly ending that particular path of the conversation. He scanned the room, and his eyes lit up when they landed on the Doctor. 

“Ah, you must be the Doctor!” he said with obvious delight, walking over with his hand outstretched. “I'm Sam—thanks for filling in for us, you've made sure we're going to have a good show. Seriously, it's a pleasure to have you here.”

“Aw, cheers!” the Doctor smiled, shaking the offered hand. “Glad I could help out, I'm really looking forward to this!”

“Well, great!” Sam exclaimed, then took a step back, regarding all three players in turn. “Now, folks, I'm just letting you know that we're just about ready to start the record, so if you can start heading down, that'd be great.”

Grant and Brennan nodded—Brennan, the Doctor noticed, with relief. 

“See you down there,” Sam said, smiling. “Have a great show, and—”

His eyes caught on the Doctor's for a second, twinkling. 

“Good luck.”

---

Backstage, the Doctor, Brennan and Grant were marshalled into podium order and given a final briefing from the crew. And then, with a thumbs-up from Kaylin, that was it.

Showtime.

“Get ready for a Game Changer!” came Sam's voice from onstage. “Tonight’s guests: he can shoot off a monologue with laser accuracy; it’s Brennan Lee Mulligan!”

Brennan, his back to the camera as the curtains opened, spun on his heel and, with a stone-cold expression, pointed finger guns straight down the barrel, before letting the facade crack open. “Hi!” he exclaimed, and walked over to the leftmost podium.

“It’s his first appearance, but he’s already on fire; it’s the Doctor!”

The Doctor leant against the archway to the stage and flashed a broad smile towards the camera, then in a few skipping steps, had bounded over to the next free podium. What the hell, why not make an entrance?

“And even in the toughest of mazes, you’ll always be able to find him; it’s Grant O’Brien!”

Grant dipped his lanky frame into an approximation of a curtsey, spreading his arms wide, then sauntered over to the closest podium with a grin.

“And your host, me!” Sam announced, a ring of manic white showing around his irises as he beamed down the barrel of the camera. “I’ve been here the whole time!”

“This,” he continued, pushing his microphone shut and stowing it in his jacket pocket, “is Game Changer, the only game show where the game changes every show. I am your host, Sam Reich!” 

As he said his name, he looked at his hands, front and back, as if he was pleasantly surprised to be himself, then gestured towards the three podiums.

“I am joined today by these three lovely contestants! Now, you understand how the game works.”

“Of course not,” Grant started. “You know we don't.”

“We can't, Sam, that's the whole point of the theatre you've set up here,” Brennan said over him. 

“Not yet,” was all the Doctor said, anticipation starting to drum a tattoo of excitement against the inside of his ribcage. 

“That’s right!” Sam said brightly, shooting finger guns at the camera. “Our players have no idea what game it is they’re about to play. The only way to learn is by playing. The only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning! So without further ado, let’s begin by giving each of our players fifty points.”

The Doctor, biding his time, watched the reactions of his fellow contestants. Grant looked at the front of his podium, checking the point total, and nodding approvingly when he saw that yes, it was sitting at a round fifty. Brennan, on the other hand, was starting to frown.

“Players, Sam says: touch your nose,” Sam began, and Brennan sighed the sigh of someone who wasn’t happy to be proved right.

“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Oh, you son of a bitch. Wasn’t one this season enough?”

He touched his nose anyway, as did the others, and Sam smiled encouragingly. “Sam says: touch your ear.”

When they all did, Sam nodded. “Touch your other ear.”

Everybody held still, fingers on the ears they had originally touched.

Sam beamed. “Easy, players, right?”

“You say that now,” Brennan said darkly. “Which makes it worse, because all you're doing is setting us up for failure.”

Sam gasped, pretending offence. “Would I do that?”

“Yes,” Brennan and Grant replied in unison, which drew a grin from the Doctor and set Sam off chuckling.

“And I'm not having it,” Brennan continued, leaning his elbows against his podium and pointing at Sam with the hand not touching his ear. “You better watch yourself, because I know how this game works, and you're not going to get one over on me.”

“Strong words, Brennan!” Sam said, clearly delighted by this response. “Okay, then, let's start making things a bit more interesting!”

The game continued as per Sam Says usual, some rounds done as a group and some individual. Points were won, sure, but lost slightly more frequently, and even the Doctor found he was having to concentrate to avoid getting caught in the host's traps. 

It was fun. Genuinely, it was like playing a game with friends, and the Doctor felt himself leaning into it. There wasn't any sign of danger—maybe there wasn't a mystery to solve at all, and the TARDIS just decided he needed a total break. 

Well, probably not. But the way things were going, he was able to let himself hope. 

“Alright, players,” Sam said a good few rounds in, just as pleasantly as he would start any other question, and the screen behind him dinged as a new prompt popped up. “Survive the death beam.”

For a second, everything was frozen perfectly still. 

And then came the crash, the explosive noise of heavy machinery moving relentlessly through a drywall set.

The Doctor was already moving. “Everyone down!”

“Duck!” Brennan yelled at the same time.

The two of them hit the ground within milliseconds of each other, but Grant was still paralysed in the face of the giant, science-fiction type laser cannon that had just ploughed through the wall. 

It whined ominously, screaming its way to fever pitch. And then a sharp pain in Grant’s ankle made him stagger, pitching forwards onto the carpet behind the podiums as the Doctor rolled away to avoid getting pinned.

“Sorry, babes,” the Doctor whispered. “But it was either kick you to get you down, or—”

A hideous metallic screech ripped through the air, and all three of them could feel the crackle of ozone as a beam of energy swept across what had, moments ago, been neck height.

“…Or that,” the Doctor finished with a grimace.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Grant breathed, suddenly very conscious of every inch of his 6’9 frame. “Thanks.”

“Well done, players!” Sam exclaimed delightedly from above them. “But… sorry, I didn’t say ‘Sam says’, so that’s a point off for everyone.”

“What the fuck!” Brennan snapped.

“Are you actually insane?” Grant demanded at the same time, his voice overlapping with Brennan’s.

In response, Sam just wheezed with laughter. “You can come back to your podiums,” he said, cheerfully ignoring them.

Nobody moved.

“Very good!” he acknowledged, and even without seeing his face, the grin was obvious in his voice. “Okay, Sam says: come back to your podiums.”

Although the words were innocuous, and his tone was just as light and breezy as usual, there was nevertheless an edge hiding just underneath the surface. And while the death beam loomed large in the minds of all three players, it was impossible to consider disobedience as an option.

Slowly, they stood, returning to their places. Now they had the time to look at it properly, the death beam was even more sinister, and Brennan and Grant both kept flicking nervous glances its way, ready to move if it looked like it was charging up again.

The Doctor, however, was focused purely on the man standing in front of them. Unbothered, Sam met his gaze like a challenge, a mischievous smile playing about his lips.

“Oh, you’ll love this one,” he said, and the screen changed. “Sam says, starting with Grant: say my name.”

Grant frowned in confusion, but answered quickly nonetheless. “Sam Reich?”

The man himself shrugged tolerantly, moving on. “Brennan?”

Brennan just stared at him coolly. “Do you take me for a fool?”

“Well caught, Brennan!” Sam said happily. “Sam says: say my name.”

“Sam,” Brennan replied, suspicion clear in his voice. “Samuel Dalton Reich.”

He nodded, still with a hint of indifference. “And lastly, Doctor.” His smile broadened. “Sam says: say my name.”

It was easy. Too easy. And as the Doctor looked into the eyes of the man calling himself Sam Reich, he felt his hearts stutter in recognition, because something had changed. He wasn’t hiding himself anymore, and while the face was different yet again, the Doctor would know the shape of that soul anywhere. It was impossible. It was inevitable.

“You can’t be,” he breathed. 

Sam smirked, leaning in across his podium. “Oh, but Doctor… I’ve been here the whole time,” he stage-whispered with a wink.

“He said you lost,” the Doctor said, shaking his head, looking wrong-footed for the first time that Brennan and Grant could recall. “You lost, and he trapped you.”

The other two watched, uncomprehending, but Sam just smiled, drumming his fingers against the podium with an audible beat, fast but distinct. Four taps, four taps, four taps. “I’m waiting.”

The Doctor took a slow, deep breath. Set his jaw. 

“Master.”

---

missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?

original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x

art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x

writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): you are here!

[donatellawritings]

Would you ever do a part 2 to sweetheart reader and rafe’s breakup? I wanna see how they get back together 🥰

it had been about three months, since rafe had let you go, his oh-so doting sweetheart, the apple of his very eye. with the news of rafe cameron no longer having his latin sweetheart under his arm spreading around the island like a rancid wildfire, it didn’t take long for rafe to find himself regretting his decision. but make no mistake, rafe had made it his business to keep a watchful eye on your every move, and making sure to remain undetected while doing so. i mean, at the end of the day, you would always be his sweet girl and what kind of a man would he be, if he didn’t watch over you.

and sure, it took you a few weeks to find your footing as a now single and absolute knockout of a woman, yet you stood your ground — remaining tooth-achingly sweet to everyone who came your way, even when you’d politely reject their shameless advances towards you. and boy, did you make rafe’s sick little heart swell with pride as you made sure to keep a piece of him around you at all times, your gifted tiffany & co tennis bracelet constantly glinting against the north carolina sun with each passing day.

but, you were always such an emotional and overly-sensitive doll — and today just happened to be one of those days where you couldn’t seem to get your papi, rafe out of your pretty little head.

“i just — i want him with me!” you sobbed, streaky and watery black tinged tears rolling down your blush and concealer-enhanced cheeks as you pursed your puffy lips into a tearful pout, “he’s supposed to be mine!” you whined, your swollen tits stretching and heaving against rafe’s prized collegiate t-shirt as you took hiccuping breaths.

you poor cousin, kiara could only take so much of your incessant sobs and heartfelt rambles, until she’d taken the liberty of personally contacting rafe, a task that she wouldn’t even dream of doing, if it were for any person, aside from you, her doting and oh-so lovesick cousin.

you see, today was supposed to be a simple sleepover, the two of you had made it a tradition to spend one night together, where you could catch up on the latest gossip, prance around in nothing but pathetically poor excuses for panties and oversized t-shirts, while pampering each other with messily applied clay face masks and smeared mani-pedis. and sure, kiara missed those cherished moments with you, but she was painfully aware that you had been keeping up a facade since the moment rafe brought you back home. and she had to give you credit for it, you made it a point to keep your cool in public, you didn’t want to be a bother so you maintained your doll-like appearance and poise mannerisms.

yet, she couldn’t ignore the way you cried yourself to sleep at night — the walls that separated your bedrooms were far too thin.

it didn’t take long for rafe to respond to your concerned cousin — and it was crystal clear to him that it was time to bring you back home. the anxious young man had paid his dues, hell, the pain of not having you around was nearly enough to have him cave after the first twenty-four hours of him breaking things off. but, he had to make good on his promise — he had to become a man, not only for you, but for the sake of his own sanity, or what was left of it.

after about fifteen minutes of you struggling to put together a coherent sentence, you rubbed the tip of your button nose, with a defeated sniffle, licking over you dried lips as you wiped your watery bambi eyes with the back of your hand. you had cried yourself to exhaustion, your pretty little head throbbing from your hysterics as you dozed into a light sleep. you were so out of it, you didn’t even realize that kiara had left your bedroom.

rafe was careful with his footsteps as he entered your bedroom, dressed in a crisp button-up and ironed slacks as he sighed at the sight of you sound asleep. his bright blues didn’t miss the streaks of dried tears that clung to your cherub cheeks, your swollen lips slightly parted as crouched at your bedside, a soft smile on his pink lips as he ran a gentle hand over your messy hair.

letting his greed get the best of him, rafe pressed his eager lips to the apple of your cheek, his fingernails lightly scratching at your scalp as he soothingly lulled you out of your sleep, “hi, baby,” he mumbled, loud enough for your doe eyes to widen as your lips pursed into a wobbly pout, warm tears burning at your waterline.

bringing your small hand to knuckle away the troublesome tears that threatened to spill, you let out a needy whimper, “m-missed you,” you mewled, wispy lashes now clumpy with tears.

“hey-hey, c’mon mama, please don’t start cryin’,” rafe breathes out, pulling your hands away from your flushed face as the two of you finally lock eyes for the first time in months, “fuck — m’so sorry, my princess,” rafe sighs, each and every ounce of his resolve dissipating as he brings your knuckles to his lips, peppering soft kisses to the bony skin.

biting down into the fat of your bottom lip, you leaned up towards rafe, nudging his nose with yours, “can we go home,” you mutter, allowing your palms to cradle both sides of rafe’s chiseled face as his hold on your fists drop to your wrists, “w-we can talk about everything later, i just- i just missed you, papi,” you assure rafe, a soft smile tugging on your lips as he raises his glazed eyes to meet yours.

“yes, baby, we can go home,” rafe’s shoulders soften, his forehead leaning flushed against yours as he lets out a shaky breath, “i kept my promise, baby — i kept my promise,” he speaks, more so to himself than to you as you nod at his words.

rafe deserved to be heard, and you’d always be a listening ear for him.

“i stopped using, a-and i got that boat y’liked so much, i got it just for you, mama — gonna take you wherever y’wanna go,” rafe rambles, leaving you a smiley mess as you simply gaze into his eyes with nothing, but naive love and adoration, “m’gonna be home more, and i—” rafe continued, getting lost in his own thoughts.

“i love you,” you cut in, a giddy smile now playing on your pretty face as rafe can’t help but blush at your words.

“i love you too, let’s go home,” rafe brings his lips to your forehead, allowing his tired eyes to flutter close as he soaks in the kiss for a moment, taking the time to breathe in your smell.

bringing your legs to hook around his waist, rafe keeps a secure hand over your ass as he carries you out of your bedroom, making sure to send kiara an appreciative nod as the two of you exit the home. it didn’t take long for you to fall back asleep, once you were secure in the passenger seat of rafe’s truck, soft snores leaving your parted lips as your soft cheek remained mushed against rafe’s firm shoulder, your hand securely interlaced with his.

rafe couldn’t ignore the way his eyes kept flickering down to your empty ring finger, his heart swelling at the mere thought of him finally having you all to himself, forever.

and he wouldn’t fuck it up, this time.

[mrrharper]

Player Of The Month

You can support me at ko-fi.com/mrrharper

It did not take long.

Jake got a notification saying he'd been chosen as the Player of the Month from the server he's been playing on for months now. He was very excited about this as he's never got any in-game title like that before.

He clicked on the notification and scrolled through all the buzzwords to see what rewards he would be getting. Weirdly, there was no mention of any items, upgrades or other perks. Instead there was a button. "Brand new personalized experience".

Jack eagerly clicked the button, the only option avaliable to him. At first nothing happened and he just assumed the game was loading some new assests which would probably take some time.

Suddenly he felt some buzzing in his head, followed by a sharp pain and a feeling as if his headset was tightening around his head. He was paralyzed by this for a moment, his mind completely losing track of what was happening with his body as it was experiencing sudden sensory overload.

And then he was back in the game, but something was different. He was transported to Iron Gym, a locaton on the opposite side of the map from he was just a minute ago. He looked down and saw that his avatar had changed completely. He tried to access his character menu to see what had happened but he couldn't, so he walked up to a mirror.

In in he saw someone completely different. A young dude, clearly muscular, wearing a backwards cap and a pair of tight compression shorts. He looked like a gym bro! Not only that, he looked pretty similiar to the NPCs that populated this area of the game world, which Jake found very strange. Something went wrong here.

Wait, where was his headset? Jake put his hands on his face, but couldn't find the bulky gear he had to wear to play. What was going on?

A player came up to Jake and chose the option to initiate the conversation.

Jake #27AD0019 turned around to face Player#A97F4. His eyes flashed red, showing he was now in interaction mode.

"ey dude, ya got any issue with me bruh?" he asked, an arrogant streak in his voice. He then waited for the player to choose a response form the dialog tree, entering one of his idling animations, moving slightly from left to right and flexing his bare chest.

"Damn, that's a new one, didn't see this character before here" the player muttered to himself, clearly intrigued by the sudden appearance of a new NPC. He then chose a response.

"No, I just noticed you're a regular here and you seem to be doing pretty good, so I wanted to say hi."

#27AD0019's changed his attitude from annoyed and arrogant to proud and cocky. A new animation was triggered by the player's response, making him flash his teeth in a cocky smile, then flex his arms in a double biceps pose.

"hell yeah bruh, am the top dawg here dude"

The player focused on the NPC's muscular arms, while the character kept them in a flexed position up in the air. Player#A97F4 was starting to enjoy the conversation and knew exactly what dialog option he would choose.

"I see, you clearly work out every day. Your form is very impressive."

This prompted another few animations, in which #27AD0019 flexed his arms, chest and legs, showing off his muscles to the player.

"fuck yeah bro! i lift, like, all day dude, gotta work for guns like this bro huhuhuhuhuhuh" He let out a low, dumb laugh. The player grinned as he saw one of the potential responses he had avaliable.

"So not much happening in your life except the gym, right?"

A few calculations happened int he background that determined whether the NPC would respond positively or with anger. The result then took into account the character's intelligence statistic - 3/10. This gave the player the exact result he was looking for.

"huhuhuh yeah dude, am a real gym bro dude, ain't nothin' more important that liftin' bro. head empty, just gains huhuhuhuhuh" The answer triggered another loop of flexing animations.

#27AD0019 was going to be a very popular NPC.

[miley1442111]

accidents- r.cameron

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pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader

summary: videos from the past resurface and it doesn't go well for your new relationship with rafe

warnings: kissing, toxic relationship, rafe is confused, cursing, drinking, suggestive mentions, mentions of rafe's addictions, mention of sobriety streak being broken, topper is an asshole, (i think that's it?)

not entirely proofread

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Rafe slowly walked into your bedroom. He had no idea what he was doing there, and it scared him. God, why did Topper ever speak? None of this would’ve happened if he’d just kept his mouth shut. 

----------------

Three days earlier…

Rafe watched as you smiled at him across the crowded room. You were so beautiful, so radiant, so real, so his. Everyone knew you were Rafe Cameron’s girl, and in turn everyone knew Rafe was yours, even if you two hadn’t had ‘the conversation’ yet. Rafe wanted you more than anything, Rafe wanted you so much it had started to freak him out. He found himself being kinder, softer, and a lot more calm while he was around you, and even when he wasn’t around you. It felt good. Less people feared him. More people started to see him as a person, not this ‘unreal figure’ on the island. But Rafe was aware of what people said about you now that you two were together. He saw how some girls looked at you, he noticed how guys talked to you, and he always overheard people telling you that he fucked girls and tossed them to the side like they were nothing. He was just hoping that you wouldn’t listen.  

The last three months had been nice, the dates and the parties, but you were getting impatient. You wanted to be Rafe’s girlfriend, not just Rafe’s situationship. Rafe was great, despite the rumours from other people, and he was 5 months clean next week. He was a good guy, you knew that, and that’s what mattered to you. 

“Y/n!” Pope called you over as you scanned the beach for either Rafe or one of the pogues. He grabbed your hand and you ran with him, following as he led you to the outskirts of the party. It was a clear night and the stars were too pretty not to admire as you sat by the campfire beside your friends. Jokes were made, stories were told, and-

“Hey,” Rafe’s voice cut through the laughter and everyone’s heads turned. “I was wondering if we could talk?” His eyes were focused on you. This was awkward and uncomfortable for him. He had apologised, yes, but he was still hated by your friend group because of what he did to you and the rest of them. You’d gotten it the worst though, when he had stabbed you over the gold. You’d almost died. Granted, Rafe has apologised, but that was before you two started… whatever your relationship was, and you hadn’t brought it up since. You didn’t really want to considering the fact that when you two finally had sex, he’d see the scar on your lower right abdomen and know he caused it. It would break his heart. Rafe was a lot more sensitive than people thought and that's partly why you’d been putting off having sex. You knew he’d get upset. 

“Yeah sure,” you smiled, taking his hand and getting up, then turning back to the group. “I’ll be back in a few, ok?”

“Don’t lose her!” John B shouted. 

“Or we’ll kill you!” Jj added, a completely real threat as you chuckled. 

“He’s joking,” you assured an uneasy Rafe. 

“I’m not joking!” Jj shouted again. 

You both walked a little faster. 

“Umm ok so… how do I say this? Top- he’s totally drunk and I-I’m freaking out right now. H-he gave me a drink a-and I thought it was just sparkling water but it had v-vodka in it, a-and now my sober streak is gone and-” Rafe buried his face in your neck, tears spilling over as his panic reached concerning levels. 

“Baby, it’s ok,” you cooed. “It was just a sip, and it was only an accident. We can start again, you can start again. This was only a wobble,” you assured him, your hands rubbing his back as he cried into your shoulder. “Please don’t beat yourself or Topper overt this, we all make mistakes.”

He nodded as he sobbed into your neck, hearing your words. How was it that you could calm him down so instantly, so completely? It wasn’t fair. He’d needed you his whole life, and he only got you now? Bullshit. Well, he’d take what he could get. “I love you,” He whispered and you went rigid. 

Every bone heavy, every muscle tense, blood frozen. Holy shit. 

Rafe Cameron was in love with you. What were you supposed to do? Say it back? You weren’t sure your mouth would open. “Hey pogue?” Topper’s voice cut through the deafening silence and brought you back down to Earth. “What the fuck do you think he’s doing with you?” he chuckled, drink in his hand and a bitter tone in his voice. “He’s going to tell you all his problems, and then he’s going to tell you that he loves you, and then he’ll fuck you a few times, probably be the best fuck of your life, and kick you to the curb!” he laughed. “Rafe Cameron strikes again!” 

Check, and check. The sex was probably coming later. You felt used. 

“Topper what the fuck man?” Rafe turned drying his eyes. “Do you even know how I feel about her?” 

“Yes I do, I remember the words being ‘easy’, ‘sweet’, and ‘virgin’. I still have the video,” Topper pulled out his video,scrolling for a moment as your heart slowly cracked. 

“What about her?” Topper had pointed at you in the video, it was at some party a few months ago. “Y/n Y/l/n.”

“She’s sweet and easy Top, come on, give me a challenge and someone who isn’t a virgin fucking prude,” Rafe laughed and the video continued of them rating girls from the island. 

God, you hated Topper right now. You hated Rafe right now. 

“Oh,” was all you got out before you started walking off, Rafe on your tail. 

“Look I-I’m sorry alright? I didn’t think about it, I didn’t even know you then! And I was drunk and Topper always brings out the worst in me, o-ok? So we can just go back t-to normal, right? You’ll be my girlfriend?” he pleaded but you kept walking, your heart shattering as he kept talking. “I love you!” 

You stopped in your tracks. “I just need… time, ok? Just give me a few days to work this out, ok?”

He nodded, tears pooling in his eyes. 

What the fuck were you going to do?

----------------

“Hey,” he sat down beside you. “I’m so sorry about what I said.”

“It’s ok Rafe,” you shrugged. “Maybe sometimes people just aren’t meant to be.”

His head whipped around to make eye contact with you. Seriously? You were seriously thinking of leaving him? “What?” He whispered, the lump in his throat almost too big to swallow. 

“Rafe… come on. How am I supposed to have any peace of mind in your actual intentions when it stemmed from that video?” You sighed. Rafe was busy staring at admiring you. You were so beautiful, so smart, so… everything he wanted. 

You didn’t think it would hurt him. He’d broken up with tons of girls, you shouldn't be any different. 

You watched as a tear escaped his eye, how he bit the side of his cheek, and how he picked at the skin on his fingers. 

Oh. 

Maybe he did care. Or maybe it was an act. You weren’t sure. 

“I love you,” he whispered. “I meant that when I said it. And Topper’s wrong, I don’t just tell girls I love them. I’ve never told anyone that. Just you.”

Your breath hitched and you took his hand to stop him from picking until it bled. “Calm down Rafe,” you whispered. “It’s ok.”

If being near you calmed him down, having you touch him must’ve been the most soothing and tranquil experience of his life. “Please don’t leave me,” he pleaded, tears falling. “I promise I’ll make it up to you, I love you and I-I can’t lose you. Please let me make it up to you, I’ll be better for you, I swear-”

“I’m not leaving you,” you whispered, making a split-second decision you weren’t sure you’d regret. “I love you too Rafe.”

He looked up and you wiped some tears away. He smiled, then pulled you into his arms and kissed you softly. You loved being like this, kissing him, holding him, being with him. It was all perfect. His hand brushed your waist and lingered over the scar. He pulled away, sighing and scared, then pulled your shirt up slightly. 

Rafe wanted to sob the second he saw it. He loved you, all of you, so he needed to see it and get over it himself. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, staring at it. “I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you.”

You smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “People grow, Rafe. People change. It hurt, yes, but I survived. You survived. Life isn’t going to stop just because we’re upset about something, so don’t feel… held back by the past. I’ve accepted it, and you need to as well.”

He pressed his lips to yours again, and smiled for the first time in three days.

----------------

obx masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

[daisynik7]

Neighbor Nanami headcanon where he uses his new neighbors mini garden on their balcony as a conversation starter. Man had a crush for his pretty neighbor since she moved in months ago, but his tongue is always tied but one day he notices she is growing cherry tomatoes among all the flowers and herbs and his mouth is faster then his brain

Author's Note: This has been sitting in my inbox for months now, I'm so sorry it took so long for me to reply! I hope you enjoy this little drabble. :) Heart divider credit to @/cafekitsune!

You sip your coffee on the balcony, relaxing into the patio chair, basking in the morning sunshine. It’s been almost two months now since you moved into this new apartment and it finally feels like home. The first week you arrived, your parents helped you plant a miniature herb garden and you’ve somehow managed to keep it alive since. It’s now sprawling with fresh basil, parsley, and cilantro, all of which you use often to elevate certain recipes. You glance at the pot beside it, inspecting the cherry tomato plant you received as a house-warming gift from a friend. So far, no fruit yet, only leaves, though you’re hopeful you’ll see progress soon. 

Right on cue, you hear the distinct swoosh of a sliding door opening, then see your neighbor step out onto his balcony. You smile at him, waving. “Good morning, Nanami.” 

He turns to face you, giving you a polite nod, a steaming mug of hot tea in his hand. “Good morning.”

Your conversations usually don’t last very long. Sometimes it ends just like this, with the both of you silently enjoying the quiet morning together until either of you decide it’s time to get ready for work. He’s a quiet man, maybe even a little shy at times. Though you find comfort in his presence.

You watch him from the corner of your eye as he takes a sip of his tea, staring out into the horizon. Golden streaks of sunlight shine on him, casting a beautiful glow on his figure. He’s handsome, that’s for sure. You’ve always thought that ever since you met him. 

Feeling chatty today, you stand up, walking to your garden, grazing the delicate basil leaves between your fingers. “Do you cook?”

He’s surprised at your question, hesitating slightly before he answers, “Yes, I do.”

“My garden is overflowing now. Would you like some fresh herbs?”

He walks to the end of the balcony closest to you. “Are you sure?”

You grin at him. “Of course! I don’t know what else to do with all the excess. I’m running out of recipe ideas.”

His mouth opens, but then closes, remaining silent. You’re curious what he wants to say, though you don’t ask, plucking the stems off gently. “I’ll put these in a bag for you.” 

When you return, you notice him staring at the cherry tomato plant, studying it carefully. You hand the herbs to him, hoping he’d ask you about it. Instead, all he says is a quiet, “Thank you,” before bidding you farewell, going inside. 

You sigh, sinking back into your patio chair, wondering what you’re doing wrong. 

When the tomatoes sprout, you can’t contain your excitement, spending the morning marveling at the round green bulbs decorating the vines. Nanami is out with you, remaining silent, though you catch him glancing in your direction a few times. You want so badly to converse with him, but you’re unsure how. He hasn’t mentioned anything about the herbs since you gave it to him over a week ago. Did he use them yet? What did he cook with it?

Finally, on the day your little tomato babies are bright red, Nanami speaks to you. “Cherry tomatoes,” he says, looking at your plant. 

You beam at him. “Aren’t they beautiful?” 

He gazes at you, smiling. “Yes. Beautiful.”

Butterflies flap around in your stomach and suddenly, you’re speechless, unable to think of anything else to say. But you don’t need to, because this time, Nanami does the talking. “I’ve used up all of the herbs you gave me. Thank you again.”

“I’m so glad you found a use for them,” you reply, finding your voice, standing as close to his balcony as possible. “I’m not sure yet what I’ll use these tomatoes for.”

He does the same, and it feels like there’s barely any distance separating you now. “I know a great pasta recipe I can show you. If you’d like.” There’s a hint of blush in his cheeks. Maybe this is what he’s wanted to tell you all along.

You smile wider at him, happy with this progress. “I’d love that.”

[sugawarassoulmate]

no nut november - nov 20

they put up a good fight but still couldn't make it...

(peachy had a very busy month so we're gonna ignore that this is late bc she wanted to finish it 😤)

farmer!ushijima & best friend!iwaizumi

word count: 330 & 531

cw: fem!reader, fingering, mutual masturbation, dubious consent (ushi and reader are drunk), infidelity (kind of), minors dni

farmer!ushijima

it might just be the alcohol in ushijima's veins telling him this isn't a bad idea but you're looking pretty in the dimly lit alley

he doesn't drink often but he'd thought he'd treat himself for a few at the bar after harvesting the last of his fall crops

it was a good season, one that exceeded his expectations, leaving him completely prepared for the cruelty of winter

you were already two shots in when you saw him, quickly challenging him to a drinking game and, uncharacteristically, ushijima accepted

and now the two of you are pawing at each other behind the saloon, ushijima's fingers already down your pants

and his fingers are so thick, filling you up more than your smaller digits would ever allow

"toshiii," you groaned, humping against his hand

you completely forgot about the stupid bet you made with your friends on a visit to the city last month

you were sure you could last the whole 30 days - you were single and aside from the occasional flirty jokes with a usually oblivious ushijima, there wasn't anyone else you were interested in

but now you're reaching into his jeans to pull his cock out

you're both gasping and breathing heavily into each other's mouths, desperate to get off

it feels nice to have ushijima, a massive, stoic man, groan with every flick of your wrist

you want him to cum first but once his thumb starts circling your clit, you don't stand a chance

even in the pleasure of your orgasm, you have enough sense to take care of ushijima, stroking him as the bliss racks through your body

within a few seconds, you can feel the warmth of his cum coating your hand

the two of you clean up as best as you can when ushijima mumbles, "sorry that you lost your game."

you can't help cracking up, finding it hilarious that he remembered the drunken conversation the two of you had earlier that night

best friend!iwaizumi

"uh huh," iwaizumi says, mindlessly tapping away at his controller. "no, you're so right, i can't believe he did that."

you're calling him again to complain about your boyfriend again

it was some stupid argument about whose family you were spending thanksgiving with - iwaizumi couldn't really care

"and then he just tells me to 'do whatever i want,' can you believe that?" you scoff

"no that's terrible, such a dick move," iwaizumi drones on, all of his focus on the game he's playing at the moment

every other week, you call up iwaizumi to have the same conversation with him - how much your boyfriend pissed you off and you want to break up

and, being the good friend that he is, iwaizumi lends his ear to listen (and his dick to comfort you after a breakup)

"i'm so done, he can spend thanksgiving alone. and the rest of his life for that matter," you huff but your threats hold no weight when the two of you are constantly getting back together

"can i come over? i don't want to be alone..." you ask after a few beats of silence

without thinking, iwaizumi agrees and you quickly end the phone call with a "okie dokie!! see you soon!"

it doesn't hit him for a few minutes but he suddenly remembers that he, oikawa, matsukawa, and hanamaki were doing that stupid no nut november thing again

you and your boyfriend seemed to be doing fine the whole month so and it wasn't like iwaizumi had any other prospects - not that he wanted any

but with you coming over (and being freshly single) there was no way he'd be able to keep his streak going

but iwaizumi is more disciplined than that and the two of you have been friends way before this weird....arrangement went down

he knows how to keep it in his pants and he can resist you no matter how hard you try

iwaizumi hajime is an idiot

it took less than half an hour for his dick to end up inside you

"fuck, haji, just like that!"

it was so embarrassing—your panties pushed to the side and iwaizumi's sweats scrunched only halfway down his legs

neither of you had enough patience to actually take the other's clothes off, like the moment was fleeting and could be ripped away at any time (and most of the time it felt that way)

"feels good? that's why you keep coming back, huh?" he grunts, pulling you into a kiss

you bite your lip, not wanting to admit that he was right but iwaizumi pins you to the mattress, plunging his cock deeper inside your cunt, forcing guttural moans from you

"not gonna admit it? that's fine, i already know, baby," he says, laughing when you cum around him

he follows soon after, not bothering to pull out cause he knows you enjoy the feeling of him filling you up

iwaizumi rolls off of you, taking a second to stare up at the ceiling. he knows the others will rip into him when they find out

reaching for his phone, he decides to get it over with before he helps you clean up.

©sugawarassoulmate 2023 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!

[joelsmochi]

Diet Mountain Dew

rating: E 18+ only pairing: f!reader x bfd!joel miller (tv + game series) summary: your boyfriend has been cheating on you, but his uncaring, selfish, and very flirtatious father wants to make it up to you the best way he knows how... warnings: AU (no apocalypse, no sarah), infidelity, 30+ year age gap, asphyxiophilia, dacryphilia, a little rough housing, hair pulling, spanking, oral (m receiving) | let me know if i've missed any! wc: 5.5k a/n: thank you for 500 followers!!! let the record show that i do not condone or endorse cheating at all, this is purely for entertainment purposes!!! i tried something a little bit different with the writing style so please let me know if you guys like it or not!

masterlist

you’re no good for me, but baby i want you…

He couldn’t help his filthy mind. Even if he wanted to. Being around you was always a test of his willpower.

He kept as much distance as respectfully possible, not wanting to give himself away. Still, every night he managed to find himself lying in bed fisting his cock while entertaining the daydreams he often had of fucking you into the bed.

It wasn’t the age difference that deterred him from you, but the mere fact that you were dating his son.

He hated himself for it, but he hated it even more when he would be painting his stomach with white streaks and barely whispering remnants of your name.

And now, as he sits across from you and his son at the dinner table, he hates himself for finding you so pretty.

His eyes keep lowering to look at your grey and white striped tank top — not because he was trying to look at your cleavage but because it fits you perfectly. You kept fidgeting with the top hem of your shirt as if you were ensuring it wasn’t shifting too low. He thought it was cute.

Your voice left him in a trance; he wasn’t paying attention to the conversation, but he enjoyed hearing you rave and ramble about the movie you just went to.

The real mood killer was Jacob — “Okay, we get it. It was a good movie,” he snapped.

“Jacob,” Joel scolded. Though the pout you absentmindedly wore told Joel that it was pointless.

Jacob made an incredulous face and slightly shrugged. “What? She’s been talking about the movie for ten minutes. I feel like I saw the damn thing.”

“Well, I happen to like spoilers.” Joel meant it as a joke in hopes of lightening the mood, but once he saw the slight smile on your face, he felt a sudden rush of protectiveness.

How he could appreciate you more than his son did was beyond him. Joel just hoped it wasn’t a more significant issue behind closed doors.

Over the next few months, Joel had been seeing less and less of you and even managed to overhear some of the times Jacob had been arguing with you over the phone.

From the only half of the conversation he could hear, Joel gathered that you were upset that Jacob was spending more time with “friends” than you, which led Joel to believe it was more of an indication of cheating. He stayed tightlipped about it because he had no desire to stir up any unnecessary drama, but his curiosity grew as time passed.

So when he saw you grabbing some cereal in the grocery store on a random Tuesday, he wasted no time approaching you.

You seemed surprised at him calling your name but gave him a welcoming smile nonetheless.

“Hi, Joel, how are you?”

“I’m alright, how ‘bout you? Feel like I haven’t seen you around lately.”

Your smile nearly dropped completely. “Yeah, uh. Jacob and I are just going through a tough time right now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Joel said softly, not really meaning it. “My son aside, I do actually enjoy your company. I mean, you’re the only twenty-four year old I know that likes U2.”

That made you chuckle. “Oh, is my seasoned music taste the only thing I have going for myself,” you bantered.

He tried to contain his blush as if it were even possible. “No, not at all,” he sarcastically replied. “You also don’t use like or totally after every other word.”

You laughed harder at that, maybe a little more than necessary, but it was nice to be complimented on things other than how ‘good you give head.’

A few minutes later, you told Joel you have to get going, and for some reason, he took it as the chance to say, “Next week, they’ll have that new Daniel Craig movie in theaters. I was wonderin’ if you’d want to go. I remember you said something about it.”

You smirked up at him and narrowed your eyes slowly. “Are you asking your son’s girlfriend on a date, Mr. Miller?”

Kind of, he thought.

“No! No, fuck,” he hissed, pinching his nose bridge and squeezing his eyes shut. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like that.”

And there’s another cute laugh coming out of you. “I’m teasin’. I think it might be a little weird, y’know?”

“Jake can come if you want. Doesn’t have to just be you and me.”

“Mmm… I kinda don’t want him to,” you admitted. “He’ll just complain the whole time. We’re friends, right? Let’s go, just you and me.” Your optimism plastered a smile on his face, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t think it was cute. He agreed, and you both said your goodbyes.

As you walked away, you felt a pang of guilt for some reason. It wasn’t a date, but it felt like one. This sudden need to impress Joel Miller (formerly anticipated father-in-law) made you feel weird.

But you thought of all the nights you spent home alone watching movies because your boyfriend was out late again. And again. And again.

After a long and stressful internal debate inside a bath with some Epsom salts, you decided not to care.

So what if you wanted to dress up and wear a little makeup to (hopefully) catch your boyfriend’s dad’s attention? It's not like your boyfriend didn’t spend time doing body shots off of some random girl at the furthest bar across town.

A little male attention wouldn’t hurt anything, right? 

Besides, you didn’t think Joel would actually care. Pretending it was a date was purely just for your entertainment.

So when the day came, you practically ran outside the second you got a text message from him saying he was there. He chewed on his bottom lip to restrain his grin as he watched you walk towards his car, wearing a denim mini-skirt and a white babydoll top.

Your hair was neat and tucked behind your ears, and you were visibly wearing more makeup than usual.

He felt flattered, entertaining the idea of you putting in a little extra effort just for him.

The ride to the theater wasn’t as tense as you had anticipated. You both spent it to talk about the previous movie and the theories you both had for the new one.

While you both were excited to see the actual movie, neither of you could stop noticing the small details about each other.

He smelled your lotion. You smelled his body wash.

He noticed your new earrings. You caught him smiling a lot more.

He looked at you every chance he got. You waited until he looked away to look at him.

He insisted on paying for your tickets and food at the theater, then led you to the “best seats” in the viewing room. Not a date, your ass. He even looked like he put effort into buying a new pair of jeans.

The tension inside you grew as soon as the movie began. And fucking hell, you didn’t know you could get so horny so fast. It was stupid little things that made you clench your thighs occasionally.

No fingers brushing. No elbows touching. Nothing like that.

Instead, it was the sound of his fingernails scratching the thick layer of scruff along his jaw, how he occasionally readjusted in his seat and seemingly spread his legs a little more, and when he would look over at you to ensure you were enjoying the movie.

This had gone a little further in your head than you intended, but you didn’t fucking want it to stop.

Maybe halfway through the movie, he realized you hadn't opened any of your candy. You always ate candy during a movie; it was something Jacob found cute when you first started dating and something Joel grew accustomed to long before his crush even developed. Joel even made it a point to keep a stash for when Jacob had you over for movie night.

He felt a little silly for hyper-fixating on such a weird and relatively small detail, but then he saw your legs clench together. He tried telling himself you were only readjusting your position, but then you sighed in a peculiar tone. The sigh that Joel always let out when he was sexually frustrated.

He would have continued telling himself he was reading too much into it, but another soft sigh left your lips, and suddenly, all he could think about was having you beneath him making the same pretty noises.

All the signs were there, but who would initiate it, and how? He worried he bit off more than he could chew by inviting you here. It only got more difficult to ignore when his cock stiffened inside his jeans, rolling his eyes at the fact that he wasn’t in the comfort of his own home to take care of it.

You noticed his hand palming his jeans and glanced over at him, only to see his erection throb against his pants, hard.

Knowing you’d probably regret it, you put your hand beneath the armrest and suddenly rested your hand high up on his thigh. His body tensing made you halt any more sudden movements, but nothing suggested he wanted you to stop.

He searched for the strength to push your hand off and tell you to stop, that this was wrong, and to remind you of your assumed loyalty to his son.

But he didn’t want that at all.

He liked having your hand on his thigh where it felt like it belonged, painted nails drawing small circles along the denim.

What he truly needed was for this fucking movie to be over. Once it finally was, he wasted no time getting you back into his truck.

“Joel?” Your voice was fragile and soft, and you wondered why he hadn’t made a move yet or at least started the engine. “Should I not have done that?”

“What were you thinkin’?” Was all he could think to ask.

“Guess I wasn’t.”

“No. You shouldn’t’a done that.”

“I’m sorry…”

“You will be.”

You don’t remember who initiated it or climbed in the backseat first. All you knew was that you were looking at the back of a building, the mall, or something, and you heard Joel grunting next to your ear while his hips slammed against your ass.

You felt a soreness forming around where his rough hands were holding you, but you didn’t flinch or pull away. You leaned into the meanness of his grip, allowing it to satiate all of that burning desire running along your flesh.

“Oh my God, Joel, ye-yes.”

His name dripping so effortlessly from your lips only urged him to fuck you even faster, his truck no doubt shaking violently because of it, some metal underneath made that obnoxious creaking sound to verify.

“You like that, huh,” he groaned; his fingers wrapped around the cuff of your elbow to meet his body halfway with the thrusts. “Needy fuckin’ girl. Takin’ me so well-agh!“

“So deep,” you huffed out.

“C’mere.”

Joel carefully turned your body around, sitting you back against the door before sliding his cock back inside of you with ease from how wet you were.

“Joel,” you moaned without reason, eyes fluttering shut as the curve of his shaft continued to rut into that sensitive spot.

He pulled the strap of your tank top down to find you braless. Of course. He smirked and licked his thumb and index finger before giving your stiff nipple a soft pinch.

Your breath shuddered at the surge of pleasure, and then he did the same thing to your clit with his other hand.

“Oh my fucking-“ You cut words off with a deep moan, finding it a little silly that such a slight squeeze to your clit could make you melt the way it did.

“Tha’ feel good, baby?” He asked, voice hoarse from choking back his own moans.

You hummed and nodded, something he thought was cute and began to rub your clit forcefully with his big thumb. Your mind felt numb from all of it, so much pleasure releasing itself.

Looking up at Joel made you feel so small, protected, and cared for. Looking down between your legs, he looked so focused on making you feel good.

“He doesn’t fuck you like this, does he?”

You shot your wide-eyed gaze up at him, surprised at his sudden appraisal of his son.

He chuckled and took his hand from your breast to softly hold your chin. “You gettin’ all shy on me now, girl?” Suddenly, he fell to an achingly slow rhythm and curled his hips into yours instead of his previous thrusting. “…I thought you had a bit more confidence than that.”

You scowled at his taunts, not sure what to say back. You just wanted to fucking cum. Noticing your lack of response made him chuckle again.

“What? My son don’t fuck you stupid like this?” He whispered onto your lips.

“…No,” you finally whimpered.

You felt a weird rush of emotion pass through you; the father of your boyfriend talking down on him while simultaneously fucking you didn’t turn you off like it maybe should have… If anything, it pushed you closer to the edge.

Joel raised his eyebrows in amusement and half smiled at your flushed face. “No?” His finger still made loops around your clits, his cock drenched in your heat. He wanted you to feel all of it.

“You make me feel so good, Joel.” You reached up to give him a chaste kiss.

“You take me so well, honey,” he said against your neck. “I want you to cum for me. Can you do that, baby? Hmm?”

You whispered out your confirmation and grabbed a hold of his greying hair. You wanted to memorize this moment thread by thread. His hair smelled of cheap shampoo and his beard of coffee, but his arms and chest smelled like him with the hint of sweat that made your eyes roll to the back of your head. God, how you could just bathe in him, cumming and unfolding in his strong arms. 

“Oh- Joel, I’m cu—I’m cumming,” you choked out. He said something about how good you were that you couldn’t quite process.

You held onto him tightly and cried out at the sensation of your knotted-up tension unraveling inside you like a Christmas present just waiting to be opened up. It fluttered and filled every corner of your mind, all while you moaned his name. You couldn’t even confuse it with his son’s. Joel.

Joel just worked better in your mind than Jacob ever could. Joel worked your body better, too. Maybe even a little better than you.

Your mind was so fucking blank that you almost didn’t feel Joel collapse onto you as he finished himself, moaning your name and running his hands all over you as if to savor it. He kissed you softly, slowly pulling out of you, and discarded the condom somewhere.

“So pretty when you cum.”

You lazily giggled at the compliment and sat up to grab your panties, but Joel snatched them from your weak hand. He took your legs and rested them in his lap to slide the fabric up your calves and thighs. You just watched and smiled at his further appreciation for your body as he did the same with your skirt.

“You really know how to treat a lady,” you playfully cooed, reaching for another kiss that he returned, savoring it.

He bashfully smiled, like his mind was elsewhere. “You know we can’t do this again, right?”

“We will,” you quipped, confidence returning; he glanced over at you and frowned, confused at the sly grin you wore proudly. You climbed onto his lap and ran your nails over his facial hair, trailing over his pursed lips and furrowed eyebrows. “The more you fight it, the more you’ll need me, Joel.”

And fuck, were you right.

Weeks. He waited weeks after that encounter to see you. Weeks, he felt disappointed when you didn’t attend the weekly dinner that Joel and Jacob agreed upon him moving out.

He no longer felt guilty touching himself to thoughts of you. He was angry. Why couldn’t you just say you agreed with him instead of letting him know there was an opportunity to do it again? Why make yourself available to anyone other than his (shitty) son?

That anger turned into thirst when you finally decided to show up for Jacob’s small birthday dinner. Aunts, uncles, and cousins gathered to wish the only child a happy birthday. Meanwhile, Joel couldn’t tear his eyes away from you the second you walked in — partially because he wasn’t expecting you to show up after not seeing you for a while, but he’d never seen you wear something so… Short.

As possessive as he wanted to be, he knew he had to keep his composure not to reward you the satisfaction and keep his promise to himself. What he hadn’t considered is that you would not make those same promises.

While Joel finished preparing the food, you told Jacob you’d help bring everything else out so he could sit around the living room and talk to his family and friends.

You took the unnecessary route and grazed your chest against Joel’s elbow as you reached into the refrigerator to grab some drinks before taking them to the other room. You made as many sly little trips like that, not looking at or towards Joel whatsoever but making sure he was looking at you.

You saved Joel’s beer for last. You always brought him his beer once you realized he usually had one before eating dinner any time you were over. It wasn’t anything malicious or sneaky until now.

You grabbed the brown glass bottle and stood next to him. Finally giving him the satisfaction of looking at him, you twisted the cap off and wrapped your lips around the cold rim, tilting the glass up and tasting some of the orange-flavored liquid, lips coming off the bottle with a pop.

Those lips. That noise. It filled his mind with the image of you a second ago, only instead of a beer bottle, he imagined his hard cock.

He watched carefully as you licked up a running droplet from the side of the neck; you held the bottle up for him to take, and tensely, he did so.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” His usual response but in a more sultry tone.

It made you blush and stare at him like he hung the stars and moon every night for you. “You’re welcome, Joel.”

He kept his eyes on you as you walked away for the last time, thinking about everything he wanted to do to you.

His hands were firm, clasped tightly around your wrists. His body pressed into your back while he pushed you against the wall. He hated that you were laughing. That you thought this was a funny game.

He thrusted into your ass without care, hurting you slightly with the pressure. He grabbed a hold of your hair and yanked it. He almost smiled at you, yelping out.

“Where’s that little fucking smile at now, huh,” he gritted. Then he planted a hard smack to your cheek, not bothering to soothe it the slightest bit. “You think you can just tease me and test me and fucking treat me however you want? Hmm? Think you can walk around with your ass damn near hangin’ out of this fucking dress?”

A tear rolled down your burning cheek as you whimpered, “I’m sorry, Joel. I w-wanted your attention.”

“You got what you wanted. Don’t fuckin’ cry about it now.”

Feeling your panties fill with a warm desire, you felt pathetic and weak.

Do I like that, you wondered, feeling used and being hurt?

You got your confirmation from the dumb little whimper you let out when you felt Joel’s body release from you. He boots thumping against the floor a few times before the bed creaked from his body weight.

“Get on your knees,” he ordered.

You pushed away from the wall and tiptoed to him. He almost felt bad for making you cry, but you were pushing his fucking buttons all night long. You sank to the floor, sitting on your bare feet and looking at him through wet eyelashes. Joel was more than glad that Jacob decided to go to a party with his friends and even more pleased that he didn't ask questions when you said you'd stay to help Joel clean up.

“I’m sorry, Joel-“

“You will be.”

You softly smile at him, repeating those words, knowing this time he meant it.

His eyes were cold and shallow when they stared into yours as his hands worked to undo his belt buckle. The metal teeth clanking together made you shudder, and you tried your best to keep your eyes locked with his.

“You misbehave once, and this belt goes ‘round your neck,” he warned, “we clear?”

You bashfully nodded, thankful he accepted it as an answer. Though you secretly hoped he would do it already, knowing you were bound to back talk him at some point.

Joel began to undo his jeans, and he made a ticking noise behind his teeth, ruminating on how you played with him at the table.

“Playin’ with my cock under the table,” he grunted, pulling his jeans down to his knees, “what kinda girl are you?”

“It’s been too long since I’ve seen you, felt you,” you said, glancing down at the growing erection beneath his plaid boxers. “I was being needy.”

“Yes, you were,” he simpered, “but you know I like that.”

You hesitated for a second before jumping into his lap and kissing him. Thrown off, it was a moment until he relaxed into your body, grasping the sides of your waist and hungrily kissing you back with a groan emitting from his throat.

He tasted like a man. He smelled like a man. Beer and body wash and perspiration drowning your senses. Your pussy ached when he slipped his beer-coated tongue into your mouth, sloppily licking around the ridges of your teeth and lips, tasting your chapstick and that one sip of alcohol you stole from him a couple of hours prior.

He felt your shaky hands reach to pull his cock out of his boxers; you pumped it slowly with one hand between your bodies, causing his moans to fall into your mouth.

He got a hold of your tits and massaged them gently before giving your nipples both a hard pinch, making you yelp and pull away from him. After chuckling at your pouty face, he grabbed hold of your hair and pulled it to his liking, almost treating you like a rag doll.

“Need you to suck my cock,” he choked out, sounding almost as if he were pleading of you to do it.

“Are you asking?”

He tugged your hair a little harder to signal he was not asking.

“Yes, sir.”

He watched intently as you stripped down to your panties and sat back in your previous position on the floor, taking his pants off and propping your arms on his burly thighs. He leaned back after unbuttoning his shirt and watched your tongue lick up a thick bead of precum from his tip, and you swallowed it without a second thought.

You drooled and spit all over his cock, wanting to make it a little messy for him, and even spreading some around his balls which made him incandescently moan.

And finally, you took him into your mouth, slobbering and sucking and moaning away around his girth. Your hand pumped to the sane rhythm of your mouth while gently squeezing and twisting it to add to his pleasure.

Joel’s head fell back in ecstasy; he couldn’t hold back his moans even if he wanted to. Your mouth was so warm and inviting, and it felt so fucking good. Your tongue lapping away as you sucked drove him crazy, and he found himself wondering why the fuck his son was cheating on you.

“That’s it, baby—mnh, fuck,” he encouraged. “Just like that. Ohh, just like that.”

His hand stroked your hair, and you looked up at him from the touch. Those eyes of yours made his thighs twitch and his stomach contract.

He wanted to punish you for making him wait, for teasing him, for being so fucking irresistible… But he couldn’t. Not now, at least. He felt weak beneath you, out of control. And he loved it: watching you take control of him, his dick. The slurping noises coming from your mouth not only suggested that you knew what you were doing but that you fucking loved it.

Your lips humming around him and creating webs of spit and precum made his dick harder than he had ever felt it. He was so close already, dire for his release, and it didn’t help when you surprised him with a rough thrust into your throat.

It hurt a lot, but that’s what you wanted. To ruin yourself for him. Show Joel what he could be getting every fucking night. Tears ran down your cheeks as you put him further down your throat until your nose was buried into the black and grey hairs surrounding the base of his cock.

He cried out your name and obscenities, saying, “Please,” for something, but you were not sure what exactly. His trembling thighs began closing around your head, not aiding in the lack of oxygen you had left, but he tried to fight it. You refused to let up on him, only swallowing hard and gagging harder, waiting for him to shoot his cum down your throat.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck! Oh fuck, no one- agh—no one’s ever fucking gone that deep-“

That’s what he was pleading for: he wanted you to quit. He didn’t want to cum so soon. But he tasted so good, and you had gotten him so fucking close, you couldn’t see yourself quitting now.

You pulled your head up to mess with Joel’s head, making him think you were listening. But you only went back down, making him pull your hair to stop you from disobeying him. Your lips departed from him with a pop, the same pop that he'd heard when you took a sip of his drink. It made him all the more desperate.

Despite your coughing and choking, he slipped his belt around your neck and looped it, not saying anything to ridicule you and simply tugging at the belt roughly. You choked a little more and then smiled at him, drool dripping down your chin onto your breasts. The sight was purely pornographic. Your lips were puffy, your face red, eyes dark and welling up, tears streaks on your cheekbones.

“Since you wanna fucking choke on something so bad…”

He tugged at the belt once again to emphasize his point. He stood up and yanked the leather to guide you where he wanted, yet that proud look never left your face. You were on all fours on the bed as if you were on display for him, and he stood behind you, pressing his thumb to your slit and spreading your juices around lazily.

You hummed at the small amount of friction and arched your ass up for him. Wiggling your hips in desperation, he smacked your ass hard enough to sting, the echo in the room ringing against your eardrums.

Joel smacked his fat tip against your asshole smirking when he felt it pucker; he took his wet cock in his hand, pumping it a few times before allowing it to sink inside of your needy cunt. You found yourself burying your face into the sheets as he began fucking you, the tug around your neck digging deeper as Joel maintained his grip on it.

“Such a fucking slut, so wet from just sucking my cock,” he spat, watching his cock disappear into your swelling pussy over and over and over. “S’it feel good, baby?”

You nodded, arching your back even more to feel him reach deeper and whimpering whenever his tip brutally bumped your cervix.

Suddenly, you felt a firm yank against your neck. “Use your words.”

“Feels so good, Joel,” you answered.

A swell of desire fills your belly, growing each time he thrusts into that sweet little spot inside of you. You’re clawing at the bed, reaching your neck forward to apply the satisfaction of not being able to breathe.

His free hand pressed against the swell of your ass, gripping it tightly as his hips snapped against the back of your thighs, making a clapping sound fill the room. You moaned into his duvet, slobber trailing out of the corners of your mouth. His balls hitting your clit with every thrust gave you the added pleasure you needed to finish if he kept this rhythm, but his voice was what you needed to send you over the edge.

"Such a pretty fucking pussy," he groaned. "Love how you squeeze my cock with it. Ohh, yeah, that's it, baby. You need to cum? Hmm? Does this pretty pussy need to cum?"

Your moans, muffled by the sheets, resulted in him pulling the belt up enough to make you lift your head so that he could hear you more clearly. "Yes yes yesss, Joel- MNH, oh fuck yes, please please."

He never forgot how your body gave away when you needed to cum; your body heaved with anticipation, your knuckles turned pale from your tight grip, your walls clung to him tighter than what was comfortable (which he fucking lived for then and now), and your moans heightened in pitch and volume. He couldn't punish you when you sounded so sexy screaming his name, it was his biggest weakness.

"I know, baby, I know. You can come," he encouraged sweetly, massaging the dip in your back to help relax you. "Cum for me, sweetheart. Need to feel you- fuck- cum for me."

And a few seconds later, you were convulsing beneath him from the tight coil inside of you finally breaking into shreds. The belt being pulled tighter around your neck rendered you helpless as it created the euphoria of what felt like nearly passing out. The fuzzy vision and the black spots sent your mind into a daze, or it could have been the lack of air. Your eyes grew heavy as your orgasm persisted from Joel's lack of mercy for your cunt. He just pounded away like you were made for him and his enjoyment only, and it thrilled you even more.

He grabbed your shoulder gently to bring your back to his chest and let go of the belt. You breathed heavily, and Joel kissed your jaw endearingly, his beard scraping your skin.

"So good f'me, you know that?" He moaned against your ear. His eyes fluttered shut when his hand went to cradle your chin, and he felt all of the saliva and tears coating your face. 

"Can't take it," you mumbled.

Your cunt was aching and sore, still pulsing from the harsh climax you had to endure with him not easing up at all. Your lips were swollen from his rough pounding, and your ass was burning from his hairs scratching against you. His cruel laugh filled your ears and made even more tears fall from your eyes.

"Fucking ruined you," he chuckled, earning another moan from you. "You can take it, baby. I know you can. I know you can be a good girl for me. Gonna fill you up with my cum- mmngh... Make sure this pussy knows it belongs to me."

"It does," you huff out, reaching to hold onto his forearms. "Not anyone else. Not even me. Just for you, Joel. It's all yours. Not even Jacob's."

That sent him over the edge. A pathetic whimper followed by a moan left his hoarse throat while he gave you one last powerful thrust. That cold feeling of guilt flooded his body and turned him on even more; he relished in the confidence you reclaimed, knowing that the guilt and secrecy of it all also turned you on in the darkest of ways.

"Fuck," he shouted as the last of his spend poured inside of your sore pussy. He placed a gentle kiss on your lips and slowly pulled out of you to sit beside you on the bed before you climbed to straddle his thighs. "You're amazing," he whispered against your lips whilst unraveling the belt from your neck. "You know you really are gonna help me clean up," he teased, sending you into a short fit of laughter.

"Only if we get to make one more mess, Mr. Miller."

dividers by cafekitsune

[mintmatcha]

Inevitable Things : chapter one

aizawa x reader fic

cw: aizawa x reader, cisfem reader, office AU, no quirks. no porn in the first two chapters, sorry gang :)

masterlist | next chapter

Prome Medical Devices hired you as a personal assistant to the CEO, Toshinori Yagi, shortly after he was diagnosed with his second bout of prostate cancer and shortly before they learned it had metastasized to bone. It was a tragic, yet expected turn of events.The man had been sick most of his life, they told you, he's probably slept in hospital beds more times than he's slept in his own. It was, like most things, inevitable.

Over the following weeks, through chemo and taps and rotating hospital doors, he began working from home and handling only the absolute basics, and your silly assistant job evolved into more. You had only planned to stay for a couple months, but then another horrible thing happened.

You became Somehow Important. 

Days went from scrolling on Twitter between writing notes to juggling everything that no one else could handle. Sitting in for meetings, handling calls, scheduling reviews and system checks, running to the pharmacy midday: there's nothing you haven't done. It’s a lot, but in the grand scheme of it all, it's nothing-- especially compared to the things that everyone else gets done here. 

8:35am. The security man gives you a nod without checking for your badge. Engineers skitter around the office like cockroaches. It's always a good sign when no one immediately comes to find you; that means your boss is still alive and doing about the same as he was yesterday. No updates, you’ve found, are good. No one bothers to tell you when good things happen: you’re the fixer, the emergency contact. When you’re being informed of anything, it’s because someone else wants you to clean up the mess.

(The only exception is from the man himself. Toshinori sends you the best kind of updates; mundane things from his life that he needs to share, like pictures of his duck pond or his review of the new coffee shop in town. It’s enough to keep you going, even when the day absolutely blows. You only had a few months working directly with the man, but he was fond of you-- and everyone was fond of him.)

Outdated filaments thrum down the halls. Your heels click against the tile with every step, a slow march to another day of monotony, a kind of dread that not even your phone can distract you from. Because your position is rather undefined for the corporate world, your desk is in an awkward spot, sandwiched in the hall, equidistant from the engineering department, the CEO's office, and the coffee machine. In terms of convenience, it's lovely, but it also means you have nowhere to hide.

Before you can even make it to your desk, a young man pops into the way and heads straight for you, a bit too quickly to be passed off as casual. Your heart sinks, then you realize it's just one of the interns: a college kid who's clearly had too many energy drinks already.

“Hey,” Denki smiles with too much gum, so wide his cheeks almost swallow up his eyes. He’s a scruffy, dirty blonde, a patchy black streak on one side of his head. His button down is obviously unironed, so crumpled it almost looks like a pattern, matching perfectly with his untied tie. It’s a good thing that he’s cute; you doubt he’d have gotten this far in life if he wasn’t. 

“Good morning, how are you? Have a good night? You look so pretty this morning. MILF town over here.” he says, twiddling the toe of his shoe into the carpet. “I made the pot of coffee for you,so you don’t have to worry about that-”

You cut him off. “What did you do?” 

The interns don’t report to you. If anything, they run parallel to you. If there’s anyone they should be ass kissing, it should be the department head, not some personal assistant, but the group considers you an ally. Maybe even a friend.

“I wouldn’t say that it’s something that I did,” the boy explains. He sucks air in through his teeth. “It’s more like what I didn’t do.”

“Denki.”

“It’s just the reports! I have to submit them end of day and it’s just not--” He juts out his bottom lip. “Can you proof my work? Please? The Eraser’s going to have my head if I make another mistake.”

The lead engineer is infamous for deleting whole chunks of code that the interns have made and ruining months of their work. Last month it was Ochako's work, who then spent the rest of the day at your desk, sniffling. The four others  were equally terrified of the man, constantly fretting and bitching about the ‘cruel working conditions.’ If Prome wasn't so prestigious (and internships weren't necessary for graduating) there’d be no interns left. You’re sure Eraser would prefer it that way.

“Please?” Denki clutches his hands together in prayer. “Please, please, please?”

 You don't even pretend to hem and haw.

“Email it over before lunch.” you say and he lights up. 

“Aw, you’re the best!” He turns away and practically skips down the hall. “I’m gonna drop off Izuku’s stuff too, okay?”

There’s no chance to say no before Denki’s gone. You flop into your chair and kick off your heels, trying to convince yourself that you don’t already regret saying yes. You catch your own appearance in the black screen of your computer. Makeup doesn’t do much to cover up the fact you’ve been crying. You can see it in your eyes, in the creases of your skin that you wish weren't there.  Even as the screen lights up, you can still catch your own face, starting back with that sad, sad expression. 

It's been mostly sleepless nights since Touya left, but you push through and ignore whatever you can. You miss your travel mug, the one that matched the coaster on your desk. You miss your forks, the ones that weren’t the awful ones from the thrift store down the road, bought solely out of panic when you returned to an empty apartment.  Most of all, you miss him, how the apartment felt warmer with two bodies instead of one, and how secure you felt with someone who loves you.

Your screen loads and a big, red 24 flashes in the corner-- fuck, the works already piling up. You try to squish any thought of Touya’s disappearing act into the back of your head. Like a dog, Touya always comes back home to you. He just needs to be wild for a bit, play off leash, and then he’ll crawl back like always. 

You check your phone. He’s still saved under “AVOID AT ALL COSTS” and the last five texts you sent are all unread. Your thumb hovers over the delete button for a moment; it’d be easier to cut him off and end this cycle. You can stop pushing the boulder up the hill,  just for it to tumble back down again. You could pursue someone else, maybe someone nice or smart or at least not rude-

 Focus. Compliance is raising concerns about the new platform and manufacturing has CC'ed you into an issue about screw heads, two things that you know nothing about. You flip your phone over and push through. What’s the difference between a hex and a truss and why should you care?

..

11:59. You’re none the wiser about either topic, but the dust seems to be settling and everyone seems to be happy enough. Denki’s reports are an absolute mess, bad to the point you start to wonder if he even tried. The pages aren't even formatted correctly, so it’s going to take most of your lunch to iron out the wrinkles. Luckily, Izuku is a bit more competent and his tasks look great, so-

“Oh, baby girl!”

You stop typing and sit straight up to peer over your computer screen, hiding the remnants of your microwaved lunch. With arms raised high and dressed in his finest ironed button down, Yamada Hizashi enters. Tall, blonde, thin, and leggy: Hizashi would have been a Victoria’s Secret model if he wasn’t a man. His long hair is tied back into a messy bun, a couple of loose tendrils floating  around his face in an effortlessly, annoyingly charming way as he marshes straight for you. 

“Let me see ‘em!” he demands loudly, a smile on his face and his hands on his hips. “Come on, baby. You know what I want.”

If it was anyone else, you’d think the man was a creep, but Hizashi is just so earnest about the way he lights up a room. With a belabored sigh and a grin, you roll your chair back a bit and stick your leg to the side to reveal your pink, fluffy slippers. The man claps his hands together and laughs a deep, hearty chuckle, genuinely bemused. 

The bunny slippers had started as a secret. The original dress code had required women to wear heels to work, which was fine, until the back of your feet became nothing but blisters. To give yourself some respite during the day, you had hidden a pair of slippers under your desk, just a little treat to make it through the day. It seemed like a genius idea-

Until the day the fire alarm went off. In the surprise, you had forgotten to change your shoes back, and proceeded to spend the next half an hour outside with the entire company in your violently pink shoes.

Luckily, everyone thought it was pretty funny.

Especially Hizashi.

“Seeing my work wife is the best part of the week.”

You throw a hand over your heart and gasp, trying to hold back your smile. “Only your work wife?”

“Oh, babygirl, I’d marry you in an instant.” He leans over your desk with another sigh, this one heavier. “I’d make you the trophy wife you were born to be.”

“Cool it, Mic.” Your heart sinks a bit at the voice.  “HR is going to have your head if you aren’t careful.”

Aizawa “The Eraser” Shouta makes his third appearance at the coffee machine this morning. He’s an average sized man, if not slightly short, with dark hair and the beginnings of a salt and pepper beard. The muscles in his jaw flex whenever he looks your way, almost as if he’s chewing away his annoyance. The most notable thing about him is a scar on his high cheek bone, long healed and silver in the light. He sits his coffee cup - a beat to shit Stanley thermos from long before they were cool- under the tap and lets the java pour, that sour expression never leaving his face.

Aizawa has worked here since the beginning. As one of the founding members of Prome and a lead engineer, he’s had his hands in absolutely every machine the company has produced, and yet he carries himself with none of the pomp and circumstance he deserves. Instead of abiding by the strict dress code, he wears a bright yellow sweatshirt that has an obvious coffee stain on the pocket.  It’d be charming if he wasn’t an infamous dick. The two of you rarely interact, despite the fact he visits the coffee station next to your desk multiple times a day, offering you no more than a nod most days. The interns are terrified of him-- and rightly so. You’re also scared of him. You’ve never met anyone else as tightly wound or as obsessed with work as him; there’s a rumor that he even sleeps here some days.

“Don’t listen to him,” Hizashi says. “He’s just jealous.”

“I’m not jealous, I’m protecting the company from potential litigation when bunny slippers over here-” he juts a chin your way- “ decides your flirting isn’t fun anymore.” 

You knew he wasn’t jealous. It’s an open secret that Aizawa doesn’t like you very much. Unlike any other of the department heads, he never allocates you work or stops by to chat. There was even a rumor that he wanted to eliminate your position last year; you wouldn’t care so much if he didn’t have the power and sway to make that happen. 

Hizashi pops a hip to the side. He isn’t afraid of anyone it seems; he even claims to be the man’s friend after hours.“Would you rather me go back to flirting with you?”

Aizawa stares back, only the trickle of coffee echoing in the hall. Finally, when it almost reaches the top, he shuts it off and glares. “You’re not even supposed to be in office today, Mic.” 

Hizashi had always been the most notable salesman in the company, but once the CEO’s health went downhill, he had taken over a lot of the speaking roles as well. Interviews, speeches, and the like: Toshinori Yagi had dubbed him Mr. Microphone and the name had just stuck. From what you can tell, he’s actually pretty close with Aizawa and the other founding members outside of work as well.

“I have a quick meeting with the marketing gals in a couple minutes,” Hizashi explains. He brings his attention back to you, brows waggling. Fuck- you know what he’s about to say.

 “And I wanted to wish my wife an early happy birthday.”

Oh, god. Your face flushes with heat-- you had hoped he had forgotten that. You glance over to Aizawa, who seems more interested than usual.

“It's tomorrow,” you explain. He nods curtly.

“Our office darling is going to be thirty, flirty and feeling fine!” Mic explains further. Ugh. You wish he didn't sound so happy about it. When you think about it for too long, turning thirty feels like the end of the world, an evil you just can't avoid. It's better than the alternative, you guess. 

“Are you and the boyfriend planning on a romantic night?”

A second gut punch of a statement.

“Oh, no, I’m just-- he--” You almost get emotional for a moment. Thirty years old and single: it feels like the end of the world for some reason. Everyone else is getting married or having kids or living some dream life. Fuck-- even two of the goddammit interns are engaged and they're practically babies! At this point, you might as well give up and die alone; no one else is ever going to want you, are they? 

 The glimpse of Aizawa in the corner, watching you with those judgemental eyes, sobers you up quickly. 

“We broke up, so I’m just staying in.”

The two snap their heads towards each other. Mic waggles his eyebrows, not so subtly gesturing to a non receptive Aizawa. You know that look, the excitement and relief. It’s not a secret that no one really liked Touya-- people have been openly voicing their contempt for years. He wasn’t a bad guy, except for the times he was, but people only ever remembered the bad things. 

“Oh, is it…?” Mic bites back his words, debating how harsh he should be.  “Is it for real this time?”

Touya always comes back. Everyone knows the routine by now. 

“Yeah,” you lie. “I’m done with him.”

“Good.” Aizawa says. You grimace at that; even he knows? You didn’t know he paid attention to anything outside of work, let alone your shitty interpersonal drama.

“More than good. Amazing! Spectacular! I’m so, so, so proud of you!” Mic adds on and you pretend it doesn’t bother you. It’s strange; the more others despise him, the more your heart aches. Touya needs you and you need him; who else will have him?

Who else will have you?

“That means we can go out for drinks to celebrate!”

“Oh, it’s okay, you don’t have to do that.”

“Too late, nope. We’re having a two-for-one birthday single bash tomorrow.” He’s on his phone, typing wildly. “I hope you have something pretty to wear because I’m going to show you how you deserve to be treated.”

Fuck. You’d rather be alone, sniveling and waiting for Touya’s return in your apartment, but Hizashi is smiling. His intentions are good; it’d be cruel to deny him. 

“Nemuri knows some awesome spots-” The man is a whirl, typing and talking and walking. “You better get excited, baby girl.”

“Oh, yay,” you offer weakly. Hizashi isn’t listening anymore; he’s caught up in his own plans, briskly walking down the hall. A breath you didn’t know you were holding sneaks out and you slump back down to your seat.

“You really don’t have to let him walk all over you like that,” Aizawa says. He swirls his cup slowly, watching the rim.  

You try to offer the man a smile, but you can tell it looks forced. Sure, Hizashi can be a lot, but he just wants to help, as misguided as that urge is. 

“It’s okay.” When he doesn’t look convinced, you add. “Really.”  

“Are you sure?”  he presses, voice tight. 

“Mhm.” You return to your keyboard and start typing, hoping that he understands the social cue. “Thanks though.”

Thankfully, he lets it go. Turning down the hall, he starts to sip his coffee, but then freezes mid stride.

“You make this?”

“No.”  

“I can tell,” Aizawa says, examining his cup. “It’s fucking dog water.”

That comment is so off kilter that you can’t help but snort. Aizawa watches you for a beat more, maybe bemused, maybe not, then nods. With that, he leaves, an empty coffee pot in his wake.  Another item to add on your growing list. 

-

The rest of the day goes by quicker than you need it to. Denki leaves a little bit after lunch for a doctor’s appointment and the rest of the workforce trickles out after. The head of development, Nezu, has you run through potential presentations before you follow up on compliance’s worries again. The coffee pot was refilled four more times, all by you, and your messages to Touya still sit delivered and unread. Two hours after the work day was supposed to end, you slip your heels back on. Denki’s files are pretty much unrecognizable now, but that’s a good thing.  All of the college students are intelligent and more accomplished than you’ll ever be, but you’re not sure why they can’t figure out basic busy work. There’s nothing hard about it, other than focusing.

With a final press of a key, your personal printer hums to life. A staple and a paperclip and you’re done: now it’s just a quick trip to engineering and you can finally go home. Your work isn't physical, but God, hunching at a desk all day takes a toll on your body. A flare of something eats at your lower back as you stroll the empty building and try to rub the grit from your eyes. You think there’s a frozen pizza at home or maybe some pasta-- though, you can’t remember if that was from this monday or last monday. Maybe it’d be safer to just throw it away.

The department itself  is a long row of cubicles, with miscellaneous machines and computers littering the other side of the room. You recognize old prototypes and parts of Prome's most famous product: a hospital bed. 

Before you had set foot in this building, you never thought a bed could count as a medical device -- or as something highly complicated and thoroughly engineered -- but this bed is different. It’s comfortable, lightweight, and durable, all while able to track a patient’s movement and comfort. It even records a patient's glucose, body temperature, SPO2, and many other medical things that go over your head. When used correctly, bedsores rates have been reduced to nearly zero and hospital related illnesses are caught significantly earlier.

In about three months, the newest model will be released, complete with full integration into electronic record systems. If everything goes according to plan, it’ll be revolutionary. Working here is a headache, but you do take pride that it's a company that does good. 

“Do you need something?” 

You jump at the sound of the voice, flipping around to search the room. Tucked at the end of it all is an open office door. Inside, Aizawa is perched at his desk, head in one hand, reading glasses in the other.  He’s illuminated only by the computer screen, his deep, dark eyes bouncing side to side as he carefully reads.

 Aizawa always looks tired, but now so especially; his heavy lidded eyes are drooped with fatigue and his skin is pallor, black stubble dusting his unshaved cheeks. There’s no bite or annoyance to his voice-- maybe even a little levity. For once, you don’t want to scurry away from him like a mouse, hiding in the shadows and corners to avoid his claws.  You still approach cautiously, heels sharp against the tile. The silence in between each hit makes your skin prick with an unknown nausea. 

“I thought everyone went home.” You say. 

“Everyone did. Just me-- and you, apparently.” He taps out a word or two. His office is devoid of personal items, desk covered in nothing but stacks of papers and illegible post notes, nothing to hint to his personal life. It’s been three years, yet you have no idea what his personal life is like-- if he even has one, that is.

“No slippers tonight?”

That was either a dig or a joke. You aren’t sure either way, but the way your shoes sound when you walk even closer feels like its own answer. When you reach the corner of his desk, he finally looks your way. It hits you that you've never actually been this close to him before. It's always been passes in the hall and distant conversations. His skin is smoother than you'd thought it'd be, with creases between his brow that fill themselves when he-

“Do you… need something?”

“Oh, uh-- Denki left these at my desk by accident,” you lie, sliding the file on to the corner of his desk. “I think they’re for you.”

He regards you again, more thoroughly this time. With a tilt of his head, he inspects your face, eyes flickering between your two. In the dim, they’re nothing but black dots, an inkinesss that you could fall into if you were any closer. 

He’s pretty.  And that’s an unsettling thought. You’ve never allowed yourself to consider that before. Immediately, you walk the thought back. No. Nobody with his personality is attractive-- hands down. Touya is the only dick you need in your life. 

“You should go home. It's late.” he says before turning back to his work. He types a couple things, then hits the backspace and deletes it all again. “Go home.”

Adjusting the bag on your shoulder, you sigh, the workday catching up to you. “You should too.” 

“Hm,” he grunts. He takes a long sip from his thermos, tipping it back to suck the dregs. You’d never noticed the sticker of the bottom before- a faded and torn image of an orange cat.  “Maybe.”

That’s a no. You don’t push the issue. You start towards the door, then pause. 

“Do… do you want me to make another pot of coffee before I go?” You’re not sure why you offer. Everything’s been put away and cleaned for tomorrow. It’d take at least 15 minutes to set up again. 

Aizawa slides his glasses back on, adjusting them by the bridge, only for them to slip right back down the flat bridge of his nose.

“You don't have to do that.” 

With that you leave, no proper goodnight dismissing you. The tap of your heels and the clack of his keyboard mix into some sort of soft, unbalanced rhythm. Despite yourself, you think of Touya, of where he is and where he isn’t. Is it also quiet there? Has he thought of someone else in the same way you just did?

When the doors of the building close and the security guard nods your way, the sound of percolation echoes behind you, the final drops falling into a freshly brewed pot.

[vixensbrainrotts]

Committed to you (part 2) - Manjiro <Mikey> Sano

Content: part two to Committed to you (read here)

Summary: After vigorous brainstorming and planning, Mikey can finally propose to you in the City of Lights.

Vixen's two cents: Thank you so much for the support on the first part- quite a few people ended up wanting a second part so who was I to deny them? I had so many ideas writing this, I hope this isn't too all over the place... now let's see how Mikey does it... enjoy!

It took Mikey and co. a short month to put together the perfect trip around Europe, the time slot falling into early summer- perfect for sightseeing and splurging tourism. With the help of Emma’s expertise in pretty places and things, and Ken’s keen eye for price, the three of them ended up with a perfect booking schedule. The request was sent, the confirmation received, and the bills paid, which rendered the trip ready to go.

The only part that was missing was you. Mikey had yet to surprise you.

That was his current mission as he sat on the couch, thinking deeply about how he was going to present this. You were coming home in less than 15 minutes- not enough time to make or order a cake, not enough time to set up a big confetti-filled explosion, not enough time to make a song to serenade you with… What to do?

Mikey glanced at the clock again, eyes widening when he realized that two minutes had passed already! He ran a stressed hand through his hair and centered himself for a moment and reminded himself to think… what could he do? What is he doing?

That’s right. You and him- eight weeks- Europe. Now he just has to tell you all about it, and hopefully not spoil his plans of proposing to you whilst he’s at it. What to do, what to do…

-

Coming home from work you were very much ready for the coming week off. It was a regular Wednesday, on which nothing special or specific happened but it tired you out nonetheless. Unlocking the door with a swift jangle of your keys, you tossed them on the little tray at the side of the entrance, taking off and hanging your coat in the same move. Kicking off your shoes you sighed a bit at the relief.

“Jiro?” You called, a bit confused that he hadn’t come to you yet. Normally he would have been with you by now, at least shouting a quick welcome when he heard you come in (which he surely had). You took your purse with you towards the living room where you hoped to find him. When you stepped into the room however, your eyes nearly popped out of your skull. “Mikey?”

He stood in the middle of the living room next to two of the largest travel suitcases you owned, dressed in a layered Ralph Lauren Pullover overtop of a dress shirt, the tails hanging out sloppily from the bottom and the collar half-unfurled. Atop his head sat a beret, your beret you noted, taken that he didn't own any, and your eyes drifted to his face, jaw hanging open. On his face was a heavy streak of sunscreen over the middle of his nose and across both cheeks and a very scraggly moustache was drawn onto his upper lip, probably with your eyeliner. Safe to say that he looked absolutely ridiculous, if not even a bit cute.

"Oh my god, Mikey what-" you started but he interrupted you, apparently springing to life with an almost rehearsed poise. "Ohhhh mon amourrrr~~" He purred from where he stood, putting on a heavy French accent and hollowing his cheeks to make his face seem slimmer. "Would-eh you like to accompany me around the world-eh of the Cheri Europé?" he wiggled his eyebrows at you for good measure and gestured to the luggage. "Do not worry dearest, all your circumstances have been cared for you, all that you must do is comply to my affections."

Your grip on the purse loosened and you felt it slip out of your grasp, falling to the floor as your hands cupped your smiling face. "What? Mikey, I only have a week off and-" He cut you off again, not even letting you finish thinking the sentence as he came in closer to you, circling his arms around your waist and pulling your body to his with a firm tug. "I said, all your circumstances have been attended." He mumbled as he stooped his head down into the crook of your neck and reigned a tiny little assault of affection of the skin, making you laugh heartily.

"Mikey! Oh my- Wait! Stop! I-" You laughed, looking into his eyes properly when he finally pulled away. "Really?" You asked, letting the prospect set in your mind, and you found yourself giddy just thinking about it. A vacation to Europe of all places? What a dream!

"Yes really. Eight weeks, you and me, all of the prettiest places in Europe. Unless you don't want to, in which case I don't know what I'd do because we'd be flying tonight."

-

That's how you found yourself packing in an almost childish joy, despite being rushed by the short notice, and then driving to the airport on a Wednesday afternoon to catch a flight to Sweden, Stockholm, where you found your tour would be starting. You had tried to press Mikey for more details about where you'd be headed, but he wouldn't give any information.

Whilst this annoyed you greatly, in retrospect you were almost thankful that he chose to do it this way, surprising you with new places and sights every time you travelled across boarders.

Down the Scandinavians- Sweden, Norway, and the Netherlands, where you took about a million pictures of landscapes, wildlife, and urban and rural heaven, and even got to observe northern lights on a warm summer night.

A short detour to London, watching theatre performances and standup comedians, visiting the Palace and Big Ben, and strolling through Central Park before continuing through Belgium where you tasted a million different sweets, and even got to attend a chocolatier course- courtesy of Mikey's planning.

All in all the past three-and-some weeks had been perfect. Now the two of you are situated in France, Paris, with a quaint little AirBnB that has a wonderful view of the Eifel Tower.

Speaking of, that was tonight's destination after a ride over the Seine.

Mikey offered you a hand as you stepped off the boat, thanking the helmsman with a quick "Merci!" as you turned to face him again. "That was wonderful, I would have never thought that the Seine was so long!" you gushed to Mikey, holding onto his arm as he started guiding you away from the docks and towards the direction of the Eifel tower.

The two of you chatted up about nothing on the way, you hung pretty off Mikey's arm, mindlessly telling him about something wish he could focus on, but something very specific kept him from it.

He could feel his heart start beating harder as the two of you got closer to the place and as the clock ticked on closer to the time. The very then and there he had promised himself he would do it.

His hands felt clammy in the pockets of his shorts, one hand fingering at the paper that contained the entire speech written out, just in case he completely blanked and forgot. His other hand was occupied half opening and closing the smooth, black silk box that sat pretty in his palm.

"But in the end, who are we to judge, right?" you seemingly finished your thought, looking up at him expectantly. Mikey's eyes widened a tad as he realized that he hadn't been listening to you at all, way too worried about.. other things... so he opted for the tactical agreeing head nod, even mumbling a soft "yeah" to make himself seem more convincing.

You, however- always the observant type- noticed his slightly off behavior. "You alright, love?" you asked him, turning to face him completely to make eye contact. Mikey felt himself flush in the cheeks a little, shrinking into his polo shirt. "Yeah, yeah don't worry. Maybe I'm a little low on sugar or something..." he drifted, half-smoothly saving the situation.

"Oh," you state, concerned, as you check your purse for something and then scan the nearby area. "Well, how about you sit down and I'll go buy some crepe from that stand over there? There are some benches over there, maybe you can grab us a seat in time for the glittering to start."

Pleasantly surprised at your offer, Mikey nods and goes to find the most aesthetically pleasing bench he can find, giving him a few crucial moments to prepare himself. Breathing deeply he runs his finger over the slit of the silk box again, rehearsing the words one last time before he fumbled his hands to his back pockets, pulling out his phone.

"Oh, please propose to her in front of the Eifel Tower! Or the Coliseum! Or on some romantic Bridge in Venice!" Emma swooned and held her hands over her chest, hearts in her eyes.

Mikey smiled at her and nodded again. "I'll try and film it if I can."

Mikey remembers the moment not much of a month ago and smiles down at his Lock Screen: an image of you blowing kisses at him through a mirror when you were getting ready for your ninth anniversary this year.

Nine years strong, through thick and thin but always side by side. Fierce loyalty and fierce love, and finally he would put a ring on it.

Snapping out of it before he lost too much time reminiscing he set up the camera in an appropriate angle against the back of the bench. checking himself in the reflection one last time before he was satisfied, he chose the "video" option and hit the red record button as he heard your footsteps approach again.

This is it Manjiro. Dont fuck it up.

He turned to face you again as you walked closer, the promised crepe in your hands as you smiled widely at him. "Im back!" you chirped, clearly excited by the soon-to-be world-famous sparkling of the Eifel Tower.

"Hey Baby." Mikey replied and took the sweet teat from you as you presented it to him, laying it on the bench on some napkins out of sight of the phone. Before you could say anything he turned back to you and grabbed both your hands with his, looking straight into your confused eyes.

"Listen, you don't get how long I've been trying to do this for, and the adventures I've been on trying to make this all happen. I owe a few people a real number as thanks, and I hope that I can make this even half as special as I envisioned it being..." He breathed for a second, collecting himself one last time and making sure that his voice was working all the way.

"Since we were fifteen it's been you and I, since we've been eighteen we've lived together, and since we've been twenty-one I've been wanting to do this.

I want to honor you, and how you've supported me with nothing but unconditional love for all this time, and I want to thank you for all the things you've stuck with me through. Good and bad you didn't falter, and even at the worst of times, when I was spent and exhausted, I watched you fight for our love; for us.

I think that's one of the things that I admire about you the most. One of the things I fell in love with you because and one of the things I love you for now. You're incredibly strong and you're not afraid to fight for what you think is right, not to mention your unconditional beauty.

Time and time again you sweep me off my feet in worlds of wonder and awe, and I hope that I've lived up to that on this trip, and I vow to live up to you in the future.

Let me sweep you off your feet, dearest. Let me be your one, and let me honor you."

You fought hard to keep tears at bay, hands having risen to cover your mouth as you stared at him. Nerves were tingling in your entire body as if there was liquid glitter running through your veins. Your breathing hitched as you watched Manjiro sink onto one knee and produce a little box from his pocket in one swift movement.

"Will you marry me?"

He presents the open box to you, allowing you to look at what had to be the most perfect ring ever. White gold, diamond-encrusted excellence shined back at you from the satin-lined box, glinting and sparkling even by the sheerest reflection of light.

It didn't take you long for you to respond, nodding violently against your hands, locked in the moment as you cried "Yes!", tears slipping down the planes of your cheeks.

What seemed to be inconspicuous onlookers erupted into a small applause, some whistling and hollering celebrating the proposal as the world slowed down for just a moment. Your hands came to wrap around Mikey as he kneeled on the floor, pressing his head into your chest as you pressed your nose into the crown of his head. Mikey's arms tighten around your waist as you feel him tremble against you, his hands shaky as they grip your blouse.

The world around you started twinkling, bathing you both in a flashy bask as the Monument behind you started glittering behind you. When you pulled away, Mikey's face was streaked in tears, his nose a little red.

Puling his hands from around you he presented you with the box again. "I wanna.." he started, carefully plucking the ring from its pollster, "Lemme..". You caught on and gave him your left hand, letting his shaky hands hold yours as he pushed the ring down on your finger, admiring it on your hand.

He kissed the back of your hand looked up at you and whispered "I love you." Entranced, you leaned down to him and held his face in his hands, allowing his hands to rest on your hips as you whispered back "I love you too." and locked lips with him.

A thousand words were left unspoken as the two of you exchanged affection through the kiss. The gentle caress of skin on skin sending waterfalls of warmth down your body, the sensation spreading from your chest down to your feet and all the way up to your head, a dizzying lightness replacing every thought you had beforehand.

When you two pulled away and shared the ever-lasting lover's gaze, you pulled Mikey to his feet again and fell into his arms. "Thank you Manji, this is so special." you mumble into his chest and squeeze him a little for good measure.

Mikey laughed breathlessly and ran a hand over his face, wiping the tears as he collected himself with a sniffle again. "No problem Baby. It had to beg it was all this or nothing, no joke there." Mikey's hands raked over your back soothingly, holding you against him as he looked over to the glittering tower, gently rocking the both of you back and forth silently as you both admired the twinkling lights.

"We still have that Crepe to eat, you know?" Mikey teased once the glittering ceased, remembering both the treat and the phone which was still recording.

You huffed a silent giggle and pulled away from him. "Yeah, I think we need some sugar right now."

Side by side you two shared the treat, nuzzling impossibly closer to one another despite the hot summer temperatures when Mikey put an arm around your shoulder.

Side by side you two fell asleep together later that night, cradling another dearly, deeply tangled in the sheets as your breathing patterns aligned, and your heartbeats worked in perfect synchronization.

Side by side you two stood at the altar a longer while later, exchanging vows and words of love, "yes"-sing another and kissing, now married, bound to one another indefinitely.

[rapz-rites]

Hearts

Damian Wayne x Reader

You and your soulmate can feel each other's heartbeat 

A/N: for @thesuperiorrobin btw I started writing this super late at night so it might not be the best but I hope you all like this

Word Count: 1.1k+

Warning(s): Barely proofread, loophole cursewords

You jolted up from your sleep. 4 times a week, 3 if you’re lucky. Like clockwork. Your soulmate's heart beats so fast, so hard, it wakes you up. You would think he was having a heart attack. 

You don’t know what your soulmate does that gets his heart beating so fast in the middle of the night. You found this whole heartbeat soulmate thing so stupid. Of all the things you and your soulmate had to share, a heartbeat, seriously?

On everyone’s 10th birthday, they start “sharing” their soulmate's heartbeat. It's not really sharing though, so you didn't understand why they explained it that way. Probably to romanticize it. 

You couldn’t go back to sleep until about 4am. But that didn’t matter because your alarm went off 2 hours later. You hated your life. Not only did you get no sleep because of your stupid soulmate but you had to get ready for school, a school filled with pompous a-holes. Luckily it was your last year and you only had a few more months left until you graduated.

~

You walk into class late, everyone looking up at you. Luckily for you, your teacher is nice enough to let it slide. 

“Hey” you said to the boy you usually sat by. His name was Damian, Damian Wayne. Yup. As in Billionaire “playboy” Bruce Wayne.

“What now L/N?” He asked. He looked up at you with an annoyed expression. Damn. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed. 

“Do you think you could help me with number 5?” You looked at him with pleading eyes. “Pretty please.”

“Sure.” And he did. You didn’t really need help, you just wanted to bother and talk to Damian. 

The two of you were close acquaintances but not friends. He was you favorite pompous rich a-hole and you were one the most tolerable people at GA to Damian

After this class you were done. You were transferring books to and from your backpack when your best friend, Lienne, pulled up next to you. 

“What are you doing after school? Do you want to have a sleep-” If you didn’t stop her now it would turn into an investigation.

“I’m working at the clinic after school, but I can come over after and we can have a sleepover all you want,” you smiled at her.

“Ok. See you after work. Oh, and bring those chips I like please,” she says walking away. You chuckled at her.

You worked at a pet shop clinic. You loved it. You weren’t a people person, you were a pet person. I loved cats, dogs, and hamsters. Any domestic house pet you could get your hands on, you loved it. They were so much easier to deal with than people. 

You were peacefully playing with a hamster while it was quiet in the store. Suddenly 2 men rush in. You put the hamster back in its cage and turned to the 2 men. They both looked like they were freaking out.

“We need your help! Like it's an emergency,” the tall one said. He had jet black hair and a white streak at the front. Then the second one spoke up.

“It’s our brother's cat,” the other one said. He was shorter, maybe 5’10/11. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He handed you an adorable little tuxedo cat. You couldn’t help but awe at it.

“Sure, what happened? Our vet is currently busy, but I can check him out and get him to see him as soon as possible.” you walked them into an exam room in the clinic. As you were assessing the cat, your boss walked in. 

“What's going on here?” He asked. You explained what happened and gave your assessment of the cat to your boss. He complimented you on your good work and took over. You were happy until you felt a strain on your heart. Something was wrong with your soulmate. It felt like he was having a panic attack or something. You went to the front of the store to sit down. You were trying to steady your heartbeat to cancel his out. But of course as you sat down, someone walked in. It was none other than Damian Wayne.

“Where’s Alfred? Where’s my cat?” he asked. You walked up to him to get his attention. You were holding onto his arm while he was looking around frantically.

“Your cat? Is he a tuxedo cat?” He immediately looked down at you. “You’ve seen Alfred? Where is he?”

“Your brothers brought him in,” you explained to him calmly. You were already trying to calm your soulmate’s heartbeat and now you have to calm a frantic billionaire son. He was spouting nonsense you didnt want to listen to while you ushered him to a chair.

“Listen Wayne,” you said, shutting him up. “Your brothers brought him in. I assessed him and the vet is now with him. He's going to be fine”

You could tell your words helped, but he was still anxious. It was kinda cute that he cared this much for a cat. One time you saw him roll his eyes at a school assembly about suicide. But he was still breathing heavily. At this point your heartbeat was calm but you could still feel your soulmate’s fast heart.

You took Damian’s hand and put it over your heart, and you did the same to him. That's when you felt it. People who already met their soulmates said once you know it's this indescribable, thrilling feeling. They were right. It was like time stopped and nothing else mattered. Your hearts synced and that's all you both felt. You both stared into each other’s eyes. You opened your mouth to speak but was interrupted. 

“Are we interrupting something?” The tall brother asked. You quickly moved back from Damian, putting your hands at your side.

“Yes”

“No”

You both spoke in unison. You looked at him, but he was glaring at his brothers.

“So what did Dr. Goldwin say?” you asked, smiling before it got awkward.

~

“OMG OMG OMG!” Lienne squealed, jumping around her room. “YOUR SOULMATE IS DAMIAN WAYNE.”

You weren’t surprised at her reaction when you told her. She always had a knack for the dramatics. As she was jumping around, spouting how beautiful your wedding was going to be, you got a text from your “future husband”.

Damian ☹️: Hello Y/N

                    Let’s go out on a date Saturday

                    Send me your address and I'll pick you up at 2pm

Y/N : I’d love to go out with you 😉

You’ll tell Lienne once she calms down. She's going to freak.

So… what do you think???

I’m working on request so plz don’t think I forgot abt those.

[fanficshiddles]

Silly Traditions, One Shot

Summary: Loki thinks Christmas is ridiculous and a waste of time. Until you surprise him with a gift, then he finds that perhaps it's not all that bad after all.

Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you all have a wonderful time. x

-

Loki rolled his eyes from the corner of the room as the Avengers team all began sharing presents between one another. Minus Thor, who had gone back to Asgard for a few days without Loki, as he was in exile so couldn’t return to Asgard yet.

Loki thought that Thor likely would have been the only one to gift him something on this tedious mortal holiday, since he always tried to include him. The team didn’t trust him yet, and he couldn’t really blame them after what he did in New York. Though he was trying, but his mischievous streak kept peeking out, which didn’t help matters much. Even if he meant no harm really, he just enjoyed mischief too much.

While he was beginning to adjust to living in the compound, he hadn’t really warmed up to any of the team yet. Although there was one person he found himself often leaning towards, that he had a soft spot for, who didn’t cringe or seem to be irritated by his mere presence… You.

You’d been living with the team for about a year, so knew them all pretty well by now. Of course, what Loki did was bad, and at first you had been a bit scared of him when he first arrived four months ago as punishment from Odin, to make amends. Though as time went on, you found yourself laughing along at his mischievous antics, you even managed to get some decent conversation out of him. You were the only one, aside from Thor, that included him wherever possible.

What had helped him get into your good books rather quickly was when your cat, Mittens, was stuck up a tree just a few weeks after he’d arrived, you were frantic with worry but the rest of the team were more dog people and said that the cat would get down on her own. You knew your cat though, she was well and truly stuck and she was too high up for you to reach her. Loki had been the only one that helped, he levitated up and carefully brought your precious darling back down into your arms.

You’d been so grateful for that, and Mittens took a shine to Loki straight away too. You often found Loki sitting in the library with Mittens on his lap while he read a book, though you’d made sure to stay hidden as your heart melted at the sight.

Loki couldn’t deal with watching more of the sight of people gushing over such stupid gifts, so he made his way towards the door to go elsewhere. Though he stopped in his tracks when he heard footsteps rushing towards him and he heard you call out his name.

‘Loki!’

He turned slowly towards you, noticing your cheeks were a little flushed as you shifted nervously on front of him.

‘Merry Christmas, Loki.’ You said as you held up a present towards him.

Loki raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘You got me a gift?’ He couldn’t hide the surprise in his voice, though he really wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

‘Of course. It’s from me and Mittens.’ You smiled brightly up at him.

For the first time in a long time, he felt his heart melt a little at the fact someone else had thought about him in such a way, perhaps not all mortals were so bad after all... Though as he began peeling open the wrapping paper, he shook the thought from his head, it would no doubt be something stupid and meaningless, something that would just get re-gifted or left in the bottom of the cupboard somewhere…

He completely regretted thinking what he did when the present was revealed to him, becoming utterly speechless for once in his life.

‘I… can’t believe you got this for me.’ He gasped out as he lifted up the beautiful personalised dagger. It had an emerald handle with his name carved into it.

‘Do you like it?’ You asked, uncertain, because he was quite difficult to read, though he did seem surprised you weren’t sure if it was a good surprise or a bad one.

‘I love it. I can’t thank you enough.’ He then had a genuine smile, one of the most genuine smiles on him you’d seen.

‘I’m so glad you like it… Though I have to admit, I did get some help from Thor. I don’t really know you that well, but wanted to make sure I got you something that you’d actually use or like. Not something that would just be shoved in a drawer and forgotten somewhere.’ You admitted, still blushing a little.

Loki tilted his head slightly and let out a small chuckle, he was incredibly warmed at the gift and didn’t really know how to react.

‘It is not often that someone can make me so speechless. I am really grateful for this gift, thank you. Truly.’ He picked up your hand and kissed the back of it, making your blush worsen as you felt your skin tingling from his lips.

You were called back by the others, but not before asking Loki a question. ‘Are you joining the Christmas party tonight?’

Loki scrunched his nose up a little. ‘I wasn’t planning to.’

‘Oh, ok…’ You tried not to sound too disappointed, you knew he wasn’t overly fond of things like that.

‘Although… I regret that I do not have a gift for you in return. So, if my presence would make up for that, and perhaps a dance, then I will consider joining?’ Loki asked with a charming smile, his heart quickened slightly at the way your face lit up entirely from his words.

‘It certainly would make up for it.’ You smirked at him.

Loki found himself grinning right back at you. What on earth was coming over him? He mentally face-palmed himself as he retreated from the room.

He found he was a little obsessed with his gift from you. It was perfect for him, and with the personal touch… he just couldn’t believe it.

-

You joined the Christmas party that night, you’d picked out a nice green sequin dress. So looked nice and Christmassy as the lights glistened off all the sequins. As usual for parties, Tony had gone all out. Especially with it being a Christmas party, so there were decorations everywhere. A DJ and plenty of alcohol.

After a few drinks, you felt the disappointment hit you slightly as there was no sign of Loki. You figured he would decide against coming, but you didn’t take it to heart really, as you knew this wasn’t his style. He’d made it clear in the weeks leading up to Christmas that he thought it was a load of rubbish, a pointless holiday with stupid traditions.

Though as you were enjoying your third cocktail, you felt a tingle run down your spine when you heard a smooth, warm voice from behind you call your name. Turning around, you couldn’t hide the big smile that spread across your face as you gazed up at Loki.

He was wearing a black suit with a green and white striped tie. You always thought him handsome, but you found yourself struggling to form any proper thoughts right now.

‘Loki… I’m so glad you decided to come.’ You eventually managed to blurt out under his heated gaze.

‘Is this Christmassy enough, do you think?’ He smirked and motioned to his tie.

‘It’s perfect.’ You giggled a little.

‘I must say, you look beautiful… Especially in that colour.’ He said as he eyed you up and down.

‘Thank you, Loki.’

Your heart was racing just with him being here. You did have a crush on him, and had done for a little while. You thought he would never reciprocate that crush, since he was a God after all. Though you would certainly enjoy whatever you got from tonight when he asked for your hand to dance.

It was a Christmas song that was playing, so it was a fun dance. Loki spun you about and he seemed to actually be enjoying himself. He liked the way you laughed as he twirled you and the way you blushed hard when he slipped his arm around your waist to bring you in close to him.

Even though Loki was the God of mischief and lies, he would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t care about you… and if he said he didn’t find you beautiful. He was beginning to think that perhaps you felt something for him, with giving him such a thoughtful gift and the way you kept blushing around him, plus wearing his colours tonight. So he decided it was now or never to try and make a move.

He swiftly danced you towards the side of the room, even though no one was really paying any attention to the two of you anyway. You wondered what he was up to, but didn’t think much of it.

Until, that was, there was a distinct tingle of magic in the air, you could feel it on your skin as goosebumps rose on your arms and neck. Loki had that usual mischievous glint in his eyes whenever he was up to something, he looked up and stopped dancing.

‘Oh my, look what we’ve landed underneath.’ He mocked a gasp.

You looked up and laughed, there was mistletoe hanging right above the two of you. It was surrounded by a very light green haze, Loki’s signature mark.

‘Correct me if I am wrong, but isn’t it tradition for whoever ends up under the mistletoe to… kiss?’ He asked cheekily as he looked back at you with a smirk.

If he thought you were blushing earlier, you certainly were now. Your entire face was on fire as you nodded. ‘It uh… it is.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t want to be the one to break a Christmas tradition… may I?’ Loki asked as he stroked your cheek so softly.

As if you need to ask! You thought as you nodded, a bit over eagerly.

He slid his hand down to your chin, holding you in place as he dipped his head down towards you. You reached up on your tiptoes to meet him halfway as you closed your eyes, when your lips touched you both forgot about everyone else around you, nothing else mattered in that moment but the two of you.

Loki deepened the kiss for a moment, surprising but delighting you. You were on cloud nine.

When you both broke the kiss after a little while, you were glad to see that you weren’t the only one with red cheeks. Loki’s had a hint of red, too.

Loki chuckled and trailed his fingers against your cheek, then he tucked some of your hair behind your ear. ‘Well… perhaps some of your silly mortal traditions aren’t all that bad after all. I especially like this mistletoe tradition.’ He smiled widely at you.

‘Yeah… I think it’s my favourite too.’ You smiled just as widely back at him.

[rblooms]

The Love That Slipped Away.

this is part two of my previous story the love we lost.

Description: (Gojo x Reader) It's been a year since Satoru Gojo cheated on you. He thought it wouldn't hurt when you left him. He soon realized that you were the one for him.

Warnings: 18+, Strong language, MINORS DNI!

part 1 linked here

Days have been extremely dull and gray. Satoru has done nothing but work, exorcise curses, go home and rest. It's the same cycle every day. Sure, his oh so beloved Amy was there with him, but it wasn't the same. You would always lighten up a room with a smile, But Amy didn't. Satoru and Amy didn't have anything in common other than their sex life. Ever since you left him, he's been nothing but an empty shell of who he was. You took his heart with him that day.

He thought he would be better off with Amy but he was so very wrong. Amy was nothing but a pretty face with no personality. Satoru's students disliked Amy. They would always ask for you.

"Sensei! Where's Y/n?"

"I wish y/n was here."

"I miss Y/n!"

He has no clue where you are or what you have been up to. You blocked his number and social media accounts. He obviously tried looking you up but was always met disappointment when you were nowhere to be found.

A few months later. It was mid spring when Amy had cheated on him with another man. Satoru was heartbroken shattered even. Amy had left a wound on his heart. He truly did love her. His world was all about her but what is his world now that his left? He was left ruined and alone in the place he once called "home". He sat on his bed lost in thought. Heart now broken in pieces.

"Is this how y/n felt?"

He had finally felt what you felt the day you find out he was unfaithful. It was an awful feeling. It was a stomach-churning feeling. His beautiful blue eyes had opened. He realized what he lost. What he let slip away. He took your love for granted. You were meant for him. You were his person. You saw much more to Satoru other than the strongest and a pretty face. Memories of you and him being happy together flooded his mind. Tears filled his angelic cerulean eyes. He sobbed and sobbed till no more tears fell from his eyes. His porcelain skin was stained with tear streaks. His ocean like eyes were now red and puffy. His snow liked hair was disheveled and ruined.

Was it worth it? He chose a girl with a pretty face. A good fuck. Were his friends and students, right? Did he really just pick a doll face over the most extravagant person who always bighted a room with just their presence alone? Whose voice and smile always made his heart flutter like a bird in cage ready to burst. His warm bed that he once shared with you was now cold and barren. When was the last time he got a proper goodnight sleep?

He would do anything to get you back. no matter how long it takes. He has to see his other person. The person who still has heart.

He walked around the streets of Tokyo. He looked at the Stores and Cafes nearby. The cherry blossoms where in full bloom. Streets were covered in beautiful pink leaves. He eyed the Pastries that people were handing out. The sweet fruity delightful aroma of the pastries filled his nostrils. There was on peculiar scent that caught his attention. It was your scent. That sweet scent you always had. It was as if spring had blossomed all over you. He would never forget that sweet scent you always had.

His eyes widen and he looked to where the scent was. His eyes rapidly scanned over everyone. All he could hear was the sound of his heart beating. His eyes fell on your beautiful smile. There you were. God, you looked so mesmerizing. You were glowing. A sight for sore eyes even. His cerulean eyes were focused on you. The pink petals that flew in the wind complimented you so damn much. He has fallen for you all over again.

He was so happy he has finally seen you after so long. He walked towards you. His heart was pounding like crazy with each step he took.

"Y-Y/n..? is it really you...?" He spoke softly but loud enough to make you look at his direction. His heart skipped a beat. Your beautiful colored eyes stared at his disgustingly beautiful eyes.

"Satoru." You replied with a nonchalant voice. His heart ached with the emptiness in your voice. Your voice used to be sweet like an angel.

"You look good." Satoru complimented you with a soft smile but all it left was a sour taste in your mouth.

"Don't try to sweet talk me" You scoffed at him. Satoru awkwardly smiled.

"It's good to see you again."

"I wish I could say the same" There was a hint of sadness in your voice.

"L-Look I just wanted to-" Satoru was caught off by a voice coming from behind you.

"Sorry sweetie the line was really long." A tall man with long black hair with weird bangs and black circle stud earrings approached you. The unknown man gave you a gentle kiss on your cheek while he wrapped his arms around you. He had a pastry package with him.

"Oh? Satoru what are you doing here?" Satoru got a better look at the man Infront of him. It was his best friend Suguru Geto. They were friends back in high school before they separated ways.

"Suguru? What are YOU doing here?" Satoru was caught completely off guard. Why was his best friend here with his beloved? So many questions swirled in his head.

"I'm here shopping with my lover" Suguru wrapped his muscular arm around your waist pulling you into his side keeping you in a secure grasp. Satoru had jealousy and sadness in his bright blue eyes. Seeing you with another man had his heart aching. Your sweet warm smile wasn't for him anymore. He is no longer the man you wake up to every day. That should've been HIM by your side. Not Suguru.

"You guys know each other?" You asked your boyfriend Suguru turning your face to look at his beautiful face. He was smiling. "We have some history from back in our high school days. Long story short he's my best friend." Suguru gave you a warm smile. "So, who is he to you?" Suguru asked you with sweet smile.

"He's the unfaithful ex-boyfriend I've told you about." You said with a sigh. Satoru's heart twisted with sadness and guilt at the word "unfaithful". He eyes didn't dare to meet your eyes. He knew what he had done. How could he ever get you back? There's no way he would be able to call you his again. The guilt that drowned him was enough to make him puke.

"Oh, so Satoru is the man that crushed your heart all those months ago?" Suguru was looking at Satoru with nothing with disappointment. "I'll admit Satoru. I never expected this from you. How did you let such a sweet person slip through your fingers like sand. Hm well, I guess if it wasn't for your fuck up, I wouldn't have landed such a lovely person."

Suguru looked at his white-haired friend. Satoru looked ruined as he finally faced the music. "I never meant for shit to turn out like this. Fuck! I'm so sorry Y/n. I know an apology isn't going to change the fact I hurt you. I know we can't fix shit between us. I finally realized how much you loved me. You were my everything and still are. You gave me your all. I was pathetic to not treat you the same way. But I've lost you now. Even though I'm not the one who's going to be by your side anymore at least someone will." Tears fell from his Ocean colored eyes falling onto the pale sidewalk. People looked the commotion happening but carried on their day.

You looked at Satoru as he silently began wiping his tears. Suguru's grasp around your waist tightened. Suddenly, the memories you tried so hard to forget came back. The day you ended things with Satoru. The day your heart was shattered to pieces. The one fucking day you saw him and his girlfriend passionately making love. skin on skin. lips on lips. hand in hand. It all came back to you. You watched as the man in front you broke down in tears. His eyes becoming puffy. His blue ironed button up was now wrinkled and stained with tears.

You grabbed Suguru's hand and intertwined it with yours. He let go of the grasp he had you in. You looked at the broken man Infront of you.

"I wanted you and only you. But you wanted something more. And I couldn't give you that. You made your decision when you picked her over me. I gave you my word, my loyalty, my trust. But you didn't give me anything. I always ate dinner alone waiting for your arrival, but you would eat another womans dinner and share a warm meal together. Where was I when you went to her house to fuck? Was I even a priority to you? I was questioning my worth every damn night. The lipstick stains on your neck and clothes never went unnoticed. I begged for your attention for you to look at me again, but you never batted an eye. I was never important to you Satoru. I never was. The nights I slept alone and cold in our shared bed were always the worst nights ever. You only started caring once I left." You looked at him once more before turning around and walking away with your boyfriend hand in hand.

Satoru can only stare with tears running down his face. He was an idiot to come looking for you. He was an idiot losing you in the first place. Your words struck his heart. He looked at you as your walking away from him. He has to live with the guilt of betraying you. He managed to pick himself up and head home. The sky turned gray, and rain started pouring. He hopes the rain will wash away his sorrow. No one will ever replace you again. His love that slipped away. Maybe one day. just maybe you will comeback. Until then he'll wait for you with open arms.

Thanks for reading!!

Bloo Note: Hey guys so sorry for part 2 coming out so late. I was not gonna make "The Love We Lost" a part 2 originally lolol. BUT I did mange making a part two while juggling school. Ending was INSANLEY rushed but hope u guys eat this up (or hate it idc). credit to the people who made the dividers!! taglist: @kawaiivillainess98

[mads-nixon]

Night Changes

Lewis Nixon x Wife!Reader

Masterlist

A/N: thanks to @footprintsinthesxnd for inspiring me to finally finish this wip from back in october!! for once, this isn't a heart-wrenching fic that makes you cry your eyes out...it's super fluffy!! Hbo owns the rights, and this is about the fictional portrayal of easy company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: morning sickness & pregnancy, nothing else except for tooth-rotting fluff :)

Nixon, New Jersey: April 1950

"What are you thinking, sweetheart?"

"What?" (Y/n) sighed, glancing towards her husband from where she sat on the floor.

A chuckle left Lewis' lips as he gestured to the various paint colors on portions of the wall. "Which one? Pink, purple, blue, or yellow?"

Rolling over to her side, (y/n) attempted to get up. With her swollen stomach, it made everything ten times harder than usual.

Lew rushed to her side, "Honey, let me help you."

"I've got it," she grunted, somewhat out of breath.

(Y/n) tried and failed a few times, then let out a huff of air, sighing as she held out her hands for Lew to come and help her up.

He smiled softly, moving to help lift her. "I thought you had it that time."

"Your child has been making things harder on me, lately."

Once they stood up, Lew pulled her close, his hand on her bump. "My child? I'm pretty sure we both made this baby."

(Y/n) pulled back with a look of disgust, fake gagging. "Please don't remind me."

With his signature grin, he pulled her back in, trying to plant a kiss on her lips. "No," she laughed, leaning away to evade his kisses. "We've got to pick out the color for the nursery, Lew!"

"So now you want to get on task, huh?"

(Y/n) giggled as she continued to swerve her husband's kisses. "Yes! We have to get this done!"

"Alright," he conceded. "Just one kiss. Please?"

With an exaggerated eye roll, (y/n) leaned in and pecked his lips quickly. "Come on, doll. One more," he pleaded.

"Nope. You'll get more once we get done picking out the color."

He led her to the wall with the colors and mock saluted her. "Alright, then. Captain Nixon is focused on his next objective."

They had decided to go with the soft yellow because it was more gender-neutral, even though both felt deep down that it was a girl. Staring at their halfway-finished nursery, (y/n) couldn't help but think back to when it all started the year before.

Indianapolis, Indiana: July 1949

The Nixons sat at the Easy Company reunion with Lip, Dick, and their respective spouses. While the guys all talked, (y/n) spoke with Ethel Winters and JoAnne Lipton about everything from baking to babies. Ethel and Dick had been married for a little over a year and were about to start trying for children. JoAnne and Carwood already had a son, so she told the two women how wonderful it was to be a mom. Hard, but wonderful.

The woman pulled out a picture of the three of them with a proud smile on her face. "Danny turns three next month. He's a spitting image of Car, that's for sure. I love him more than anything in this world."

Looking over at her husband enthralled in a conversation with his best friends, she couldn't help but imagine Lew as a father; holding their little baby in his arms or putting them up on his shoulders. (Y/n) knew he didn't have a good relationship with his father and would do everything to be there for their future children.

She was broken out of her trance by Lew's hand squeezing her thigh gently. "You alright, sweetheart? Why are you crying?"

Eyed widening, she went to wipe the tear that streaked down her cheek, but he beat her to it. "What's wrong?" He asked, eyes full of concern.

"Let's have a baby."

Lewis was taken aback by his wife's bluntness. Sure, they had talked about having kids but had decided to wait a few more years. Hearing that she changed her mind filled his with the same sweet images that appeared in hers moments before. If he was being honest, he had felt ready for a few months but didn't want to mention it to her until she approached him first.

He took her hand and excused them from the table as he led her to the lobby area of the venue. As soon as they turned the corner, Lewis' strong arms enveloped her in a tender embrace, his touch sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine. Their lips met softly, mouths melding together gently. It was a tender and loving kiss that expressed their shared devotion and longing for the next chapter of their lives.

With a gentle smile, they broke apart, their hands still entwined. The room seemed to radiate with the energy of their love and the endless possibilities that lay before them.

"Is that a yes?" (Y/n) asked, short of breath.

He kissed her gently, eye glistening with unshed tears. "Yes, let's start a family."

Nixon, New Jersey: November 1949

It was a cold and rainy morning when (y/n) stirred in bed, feeling a wave of nausea wash over her once again. This was the third morning in a row, and her eyes flickered over to Lew, who was fast asleep beside her. She always joked that even a freight train wouldn’t wake him up. Clutching her stomach, she quickly sat up, her heart racing as her body was trying to give her a few seconds of warning. (Y/n) barely had time to get to the bathroom, her steps hurried and unsteady as she covered her mouth with her hand. 

Reaching the bathroom just in time, (y/n) dropped to her knees, her body convulsing with dry heaves initially, followed by her dinner from the night before. The sensation was accompanied by a rush of relief, but the butter taste lingered in her mouth. 

Stirred by the sounds from the bathroom, Lew realized something was wrong and came rushing into the bathroom, concern etched across his features. He kneeled beside her, gathering her hair and rubbing her back soothingly. 

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” he asked worriedly, his voice raspy from sleep.

“I don’t know, Lew,” (y/n) replied weakly. “This nausea just won’t go away.”

“I think that we should get you to the doctor,” Nix suggested, worried she might have caught a nasty stomach bug.

She nodded, her mind already racing with a suspicion she dared not speak aloud just yet. “Yeah, maybe,” she answered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

After Lew left for work, (y/n) decided to visit the doctor to get some answers. Anticipation and nervousness bubbled within her as the test was administered. The minutes felt like hours, but finally, the doctor confirmed what she had hoped for – she was pregnant.

Unable to contain her excitement, she hurried back home, her heart bursting with joy. The second she got home, she walked past their extra bedroom, inspiration striking her. The sun cast a soft, golden hue through the lace curtains, illuminating the extra room that held years of collected odds and ends. (Y/n) stood at the threshold, groaning at the old boxes, forgotten furniture, and random oddities that filled the room.

She had a lot of work cut out for her.

After putting on a Nat King Cole album, she took a deep breath and rolled up her sleeves, beginning the task at hand. As she meticulously sorted through the belongings, memories danced in her mind – the dusty bookshelf that held Lew’s childhood favorites, the old rocking chair her mother had gifted her, and the worn-out toys that once brought her so much joy. 

With every box she emptied and every piece of furniture she carefully moved, the room started to transform. The clutter began to vanish, making way for her vision of a nursery filled with love and laughter. She could almost visualize the crib nestled by the window, sunlight streaming in, casting a warm glow on the tiny cradle.

Time seemed to fly as she got lost in the whirlwind of her excitement. As the clock ticked on, (y/n) meticulously organized, cleaned, and dusted, pouring herself into every corner. By the time Nix got home from work, she had cleared out most of the clutter. Her eyes held a sparkle of pride as she surveyed her progress, already lost in the thoughts of cradling their newborn baby in this very room.

Lew opened the door, calling out to her as he did every day. “Honey, I’m home.”

As he put his briefcase onto the kitchen table, he noticed the random items and boxes that were scattered around the kitchen. With a raised eyebrow, he stepped over the clutter and followed the sound of (I Love You) For Sentimental Reasons to the couple’s extra bedroom.

“(Y/n)?” Lew asked as he entered the room, his eyes flicking between the few things left inside.

A rocking chair…

Some old toys…

His old bookshelf filled with children’s books…

She stood in front of the window with a hand covering her mouth, eyes glossy with unshed tears. “Hey,” she whispered.

Lew’s brows instantly furrowed and he approached her, taking her into his arms. “What’s wrong, doll?”

“I’m happy.”

“You’re happy,” he pondered aloud, “But you’re crying.”

(Y/n) pulled back to look up at his puzzled face. “Yeah.”

“Why the sudden inspiration to clean out the crap in here?”

“Well,” she grinned up at him, her bottom lip wobbling as she spoke. “Our baby can’t have a room full of random stuff, can they?”

As (y/n) looked at him expectantly, he nodded with raised brows. “Yeah, yeah.”

But then his eyes widened suddenly and Lew’s gaze flew to hers. “The what?”

Tag List: @softguarnere @flowers-and-fichte @inglourious-imagines @peggyvan @rebeccapearson @hxad-ovxr-hxart @shakespear-picaso-lovechild @titiglt @stvrkdream @multifandomfanfic @starlordsatellite @blvestxr @iceman-kazansky @bucky32557038ww2 @sofietargaryen @liptonsbabe @leximus98

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[haddonfieldwhore]

torn - vince dunn

vince dunn x fem!reader (x platonic! matthew tkachuk)

summary: with seattle on an 8 game losing streak, it’s even more difficult to choose who to cheer for; your boyfriend or your best friend

word count: 4k

warnings: language, a sprinkle of angst, drinking, nsfw themes implied but nothing explicit, mention of cheating

you fiddled absentmindedly with your fingers in your lap as you sat in the audience, paying little attention to the practice skate happening in the rink. your mind was elsewhere, unable to focus on your boyfriend vince dunn and his team as you thought about his instead. matthew tkachuk had been your best friend for as long as you could remember, and while you should have been overjoyed at the fact that you got to see him tonight, the fact that he was on the opposing team did slightly complicate things.

while it was just a game at the end of the day, it wasn’t at the same time. it felt like a double edged sword; while you knew you would be happy with whoever won, that also meant that one of your two favourite people had to lose, and you didn’t want that.

you breathed a sigh of relief that this was their last regular season game against eachother, the panthers and the kraken not meeting up too often. you felt you phone buzz in your pocket and checked it to see a text from matthew.

you looked up at the clock on the wall, which read 10:49am, meaning the kraken were almost done and you wouldn’t miss too much if you snuck out now.

you gathered your stuff, sneaking out without drawing attention to yourself, and not noticing the green eyes of your boyfriend flickering up to notice your empty seat. it was only about 15 minutes before matthew arrived, meeting you outside the cafe by sneaking up behind you and wrapping his arms around you. you let out a shriek, earning a few weird looks from people around the room as you turned around.

“you scared me!” you punched matthews chest lightly, before throwing your arms around his neck in a bone crushing hug.

“that was kind of the idea,” he laughed, holding you tight as he laughed. it had been months since you had seen him, and you always missed him like crazy when you were apart.

“you cut your hair!” you commented on his appearance as you finally looked at his face. you had obviously seen him on tv and in pictures since you last saw him in person, but it wasn’t the same as being fave to face. “last time i saw you your curls were crazy,” you smiled, remembering how long his hair had grown out.

“yeah, it’s a lot to fit under the helmet,” he smiled, and finally let go of you.

“also,” you began. “happy belated birthday! i can’t believe we were one day off from getting to spend it together,” you pouted, thinking of his birthday that had been just yesterday.

“thank you. we can celebrate tonight- after the game. i think we’re sticking around in seattle until at least tomorrow morning so we have all night.”

“deal,” you smiled, shaking his hand.

•

after a quick shower, vince towel dried his curly hair and threw on a kraken hoodie and some shorts, taking advantage of the warmer than usual weather despite it being mid december. usually after practice you were waiting for him outside the locker room, but he had a pretty good feeling that you wouldn’t be there to greet him today; the empty hallway confirming his suspicions as he sighed.

“everything okay? she’s never not here.”

vince looked up to nod his head softly at tye kartye, one of his teammates and one of your close friends. “where is she?”

“with tkachuk,” dunn replied, not meaning to sound so bitter. “he’s her best friend; they never get to see eachother,” he recovered, not wanting to give the impression that he was upset about it. he had no issue with you having friends that were on other teams, especially since you had been friends with matthew far longer than you had been dating him.

“sharing trade secrets about our practice?” tye joked innocently, and vince punched his arm.

“you know she wouldn’t. and besides, i don’t think she was really paying attention anyway,” he laughed. he pulled his phone out of his bag, checking to see if you had messaged him, trying not to be too disappointed when he saw no notifications on the screen.

•

you and matthew were walking around seattle, not straying too far from the arena, when your phone went off.

you smiled at the message, and didn’t notice matthew had stopped in front of you until you ran straight into his chest.

“loverboy wondering where you are?” he teased innocently.

“he’s just checking in. their practice just ended.”

“any-“

“don’t even ask. i am sworn to secrecy,” you scolded, with a finger pressed to his lips to quiet him. he smirked, raising his hands in surrender.

“i see how it is. does that mean you’re cheering for him tonight over me?” he asked playfully.

“i’m cheering for both of you. i don’t want either of you lose,” you admitted, and matthew threw an arm around your shoulder.

“i know. and i’m sorry they have to lose but-“

“hey!” you laughed. “don’t be an ass.”

“sorry,” he smiled. “and i promise to try not to hit him too hard in to the boards-“

“hey!” you repeated, but you knew that he was only messing with you.

“okay okay i’m done.”

•

you had gone home to vince’s apartment once matthew had to go to the panthers practice, giving you some time to get ready before the game. you and the birthday-boy would be going out straight after the game, so you had to get a little fancier than you usually did for a game, knowing you wouldn’t have time to do your makeup or anything.

putting on an outfit appropriate for clubbing and doing your hair and makeup took a little longer than usual, and soon it was time to head down to the arena with vince. he walked out of your shared bedroom dressed in his suit for the evening, a dark purple colour with a subtle blue plaid pattern. no matter how many times you saw him get dressed up, it still made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“you really do look great in a suit,” you smiled, smoothing out his blue tie and brushing that one curl that never seemed to stay put off his forehead. he leaned down to kiss your lips softly.

“you look amazing. although i have a weird feeling this isn’t all for me..” he said hesitantly, his hands landing softly on your waist.

“i mean of course it’s for you,” you paused, kissing the side of his neck softly. “but i do have plans after the game with matthew,” you admitted, feeling guilty even though you knew he wouldn’t mind.

“i had a feeling,” vince laughed, but kissed your forehead. “you are still cheering for us during the game though, right?” he smiled.

“yes, but he’s gonna be a bummer to hang out with if they lose, so think of me if that happens,” you laughed as he kissed you again, before grabbing your bag for you and getting the door. you weren’t sure how it was time to go already, but you were only getting more nervous standing around waiting, so you were happy to get going, following close behind vince as he left the apartment.

•

you and vince arrived at the arena, but split off since he had a few things to do before the game; usual player stuff. you were in the back when the panthers arrived, and while most of them didn’t pay you any mind, a certain player with golden curls sent you a wink as he walked by and into the visitors locker room. you decided that while yes, you were hoping that seattle won the game (florida could afford the loss more than the kraken could right now), you would still be an encouraging friend, texting matthew a quick ‘good luck 🥰’.

you put your phone away, and took a deep breath, trying to ease your nerves. you and a few of the other players girlfriends went to your seats, and you tapped your fingers on your knee, drowning out the conversation going on around you. a hand in your shoulder snapped you out of your trance, and you turned to look at valerie, who was engaged to jared, one of the forwards for seattle.

“you okay?” she asked, and you smiled.

“yeah - just a little nervous if i’m being honest.”

“what’s going on?”

“my best friend plays for florida, so i’m just a little upset that one of the teams had to lose,” you laughed, and val giggled.

“aww. it’s okay honey. that’s the game; someone wins and someone loses - and i’m sure both vince and your friend know that.”

“you’re right,” you sighed, her words making you feel better. “thanks val.”

“no problem. are you and vince going out after the game? you’re all fancy today.”

“no, actually i have plans with matthew - my friend.”

“tkachuk?”

“yeah.”

“so you have a bit of a type, huh? tall, curly hair, a little dangerous…” she teased.

“shush.”

“i’m kidding, i’m kidding,” she bumped her shoulder against yours softly. “i won’t tell anyone if you secretly cheer for florida,” she whispered in your ear.

“i still want us to win,” you took a sip from your drink. “i just don’t want the other team to lose.” you both laughed at the redundant statement, and the players came out into the ice to skate around before the game began.

“what’s tkachuk’s number again? i want to keep an eye on him for you,” val asked.

“19,” you smiled. “i’m sure he’ll make his presence known.” as if on queue, you saw matt in the starting lineup out on the ice, and he nodded his head towards you, and you smiled.

“yeah, you definitely have a type.”

•

the first period went by without too much excitement, besides vince getting a penalty for a high stick. while you would never admit it to him, you always thought he looked hot sitting in the penalty box. florida got a few more power plays in the second period, but yamamoto was still able to score the only goal so far, giving seattle a 1-0 lead. you noticed vince and matt give eachother a couple shoves as play was whistles down for a save from seattles goalie, daccord.

bellemare scored the second goal for seattle, giving us an even bigger lead, and while i was happy for the kraken, my mood fell as my eyes landed on matty. he was sitting on the panthers bench, chewing on his mouthguard instead of wearing it properly, as always. on his next shift he got a good shot, but it was deflected, and the start of a fight broke out between vince and one of the other panthers, but it was quickly broken up.

wennberg intercepted a pass and got a breakaway to score seattles third goal, and your gaze went to the florida bench again. as your eyes found matthew, you realized he was already looking at you. you mouthed a sincere “i’m sorry” at your best friend, and you knew he understood it when he tilted his head sideways with a shrug; but you could tell he was frustrated.

florida pulled their goalie with five minutes left in the game, and tolvanen scored an empty netter to secure the victory early. the girls were cheering next to you and you smiled as they announced that vince got an assist on the goal, adding to his already impressive tally of points on the season so far. the time dwindled down to nothing, confirming the win for seattle and in turn earning daccord his first nhl shutout.

the fans cheered as the kraken skated around celebrating, and the panthers headed back to the locker room.

•

you were leaning up against the wall talking with some of the teams girlfriends when you felt arms wrap around your midsection from behind, and a soft kiss being placed on the junction between your shoulder and your neck. you giggled as vince’s stubble tickled your skin, and you turned around and kissed him on the lips.

“hey,” you smiled, admiring the sparkle that always appeared in his eyes when the kraken won.

“hey yourself,” he smiled, kissing you again, before his eyes traveled up and down your body, taking in every inch of your outfit. “you’re sure you’re not gonna hang with us? we’re going to kartye’s place, it’s gonna be a good time….” he trailed off, his fingers drumming softly against your hips.

“i’m sad i’m missing it, but i promised matthew; it was his birthday yesterday and i haven’t seen him in forever,” you pouted, and vince nodded.

“i get it, don’t worry. i just thought i’d ask.”

“you could come with us?” you offered, and he smiled, but shook his head.

“i don’t wanna third wheel,” he teased. “go have fun. i get you all the time, he can have you for one night.”

i raised an eyebrow, and vince seemed to realize the error in his wording.

“not like that,” he scolded, a light blush on his face, and you laughed.

“i’m kidding. you’re the only one who gets me in that way.”

“good,” vince said, his confidence returning as he kissed you deeply, before the rest of the team started exiting the locker room.

“hey, you coming out with us?” yamamoto asked, and you shook your head, but vince answered for you.

“she’s got a date with the enemy,” he replied, and you shot him a glare for throwing you under the bus, but knew the team wouldn’t care. they hazed you for a minute, but you laughed it off before they stole vince from you, him calling out for you to text him if anything happened. you waved to the guys and said goodnight to the girls before heading towards the visitors locker room to find matthew.

the panthers were still inside when you got there, so you sat on a bench in the hallway while you waited. about 10 minutes went by before anyone exited the room, and finally a defeated looking tkachuk walked out of the door. he perked up slightly when he saw you, and you stood up, gasping slightly as he lifted you up in the air. to not fall, you wrapped you arms and legs around him like a koala bear, laughing as he spun around.

“stop you’re gonna drop me!”

“i would never,” he replied, but set you down on your feet anyway. “you ready to go?” he asked, and you looked at the white button up shirt he had on with some dark jeans. his hair was still slightly damp from his post-game shower, and he smelled like his usual cologne.

“yeah, what the plan?”

“there’s gotta be a club around here somewhere right?” he asked, and you nodded, remembering the handful of times you had gone out with the team to celebrate after a game.

“yeah, i know a place.”

“well what are we waiting for?” he smiled.

•

a few hours and many drinks later, you found yourself being pulled onto the dance floor by matthew, some throwback hip hop song blaring through the speakers of the club. his hands were on your hips as you danced to the music, your back to his chest as your bodies got closer together. the club lighting was low except for the flashing stove lights, casting different colours across the people in the room.

“what are you thinking about?” matthew asked, his breath fanning across your ear as he leaned closer so you could hear him over the music, and you realized you must have zoned out.

“i’m sorry you guys lost the game.”

he laughed, using his grip on your waist to turn you to face him, his hands never leaving your body.

“it’s fine,” he shook his head, but his eyes didn’t meet yours, so you could tell he wasn’t too happy about it.

“sorry, i shouldn’t have brought it up. kinda ruined the mood.” his gaze found yours now, the bright blue of his eyes slightly hazy from the alcohol.

“and what mood was that?” he smirked.

“we’re celebrating your birthday, matty,” you smiled, throwing your arms around his neck and burying your face against his collarbone. you felt another laugh rumble in his chest, as his arms encircled you, and you breathed in the way he smelled; expensive. you looked up at him, and found him already looking at you, his eyes half closed, either from intoxication or tiredness. without thinking, you placed a soft peck on his lips, and then both of your froze. his eyes were wide now, and you stuttered incoherently.

“i didn’t mean to do that,” you finally said.

“you didn’t?”

“no,” you confirmed.

“okay,” he laughed, and you hit his bicep softly.

“it’s not funny matty, i fucked up,” you said seriously, and he cleared his throat.

“okay, just breathe,” he said as you began to panic. “let’s get some fresh air okay?” he led you outside, the cool december air helping to sober you up quickly. there was no one stood outside the club except a couple people smoking a little ways down the sidewalk. you leaned against the side of the building as you continued to freak out. you had to tell vince- and now, before some paparazzi posted a photo of it and he found out some other way.

you pulled out your phone, and matthews eyes widened again as his hand gently wrapped around yours.

“what are you doing?”

“i have to tell him,” you mumbled.

“tell who what-“

“tell my boyfriend that i just cheated on him, matthew. oh god-“ you cried, tears welling in your eyes.

“are you sure you should call him right now? you’re hyperventilating.”

“he needs to know. and he needs to hear from me first before he finds out from someone else,” you insisted, somehow managing to calm for breathing down, though your heart remained pounding against your ribcage.

“okay. you’re right,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “it’s not like it meant anything, right? it was a stupid drunken kiss.”

“yes. i love you, but not like that, dude.” you both laughed, and you were glad to be on the same page about it. matty would always be your best friend, and there had never been anything romantic between the two of you.

“agreed,” he smiled. “i’ll give you some privacy, but i’m not leaving you out here alone. i’ll be over there if you need me,” he said, and walked down the side of the building, keeping you in his line of sight under safe watch. you took a shaky breath, and scrolled through your phone to vince’s contact, and pressed the call button.

“hello?” he answered, and you could hear loud music in the background.

“vince - it’s me. can you hear me?” you replied, and you heard the sound of a door and the music getting quieter, like he had gone into another room.

“hey, babe. yeah i can hear you now. is everything okay?” he asked, a concerned tone in his voice.

“yes - well no- but yes, i’m fine. i need to tell you something.”

“what is it?” he asked.

“i accidentally kissed matthew,” you admitted, closing your eyes like it would stop you from hearing his reaction. “we got really drunk and it just happened and it was one tiny little kiss and i’m so sorry,” you blabbered, before listening to a long painful silence on the other side of the phone.

“it didn’t mean anything? it was just a mistake?” he asked calmly, and you were a little shocked. you hadn’t exactly expected him to yell at you, but you thought he would at least sound… angrier.

“god no - of course it didn’t. i love you so much and i’m so sorry.”

“does he know it didn’t mean anything?” he asked, the expected anger a little more present in his voice this time.

“yes, vince. we’re just friends; i promise,” you insisted, and you heard him sigh on the other end.

“okay. i mean i’m not happy about it but if it didn’t mean anything i i’ll get over it. i’ll kiss one of the guys and we’ll call it even, okay?” he teased, and you laughed, slightly in relief but also in disbelief.

“have you been drinking?” you teased, and he gave a genuine laugh.

“maybe a little. but seriously - if it was just an accident i forgive you. are you guys staying out for a bit? do you need me to call you a cab or anything?” he asked, and you smiled at how much of a sweetheart he was.

“i think we’ve both had enough partying for one night. i’ll get a cab home, okay? are you and guys staying out much longer?” you replied.

“okay, text me when you’ve made it home. i think we’re almost calling it a night, so i’ll be there soon.”

“okay. i love you.”

“i love you too.” he said, and the call ended. matthew saw you put your phone away, and walked back over to you.

“is he coming here to kill me?” he asked, and you rolled your eyes, wondering how he could joke at a time like this.

“no - i have the best boyfriend in the world and he said everything is fine since it was just a drunken mistake.” speaking of vince your phone went off in your hand and you looked at the screen to see a text with a picture of larsson and yamamoto kissing him on either cheek, a big goofy smile on his face. below it was a text that just said “now we’re even 🩵” and you shook your head, smiling as you showed matt.

“i don’t know him too well but he seems like a good guy.”

“he is,” you smiled. “i’m gonna call it a night, and you probably should to, considering i’m sure you guys have to be in the road pretty early tomorrow.”

“yeah you’re right,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “i’ll see you during the holiday break, right?” he asked. the teams always got a few days off at christmas and you usually spent at least one of them together. that meant it would o it be a few weeks before you got to see each other again.

“of course,” you said, wrapping your arms around him in a hug, suddenly sad to be saying goodbye so soon.

“okay,” he smiled, returning the hug as your cab pulled up. “tell dunn i’m sorry. and congrats on the win.”

“i will. text me in the morning?” he nodded in response, and pulled out his phone to call a cab of his own. you sighed as the car pulled away, and you shut your eyes, suddenly feeling exhausted.

•

you were home long enough to shower and get into your pyjamas, which was just one of vince’s t-shirts and some shorts, before you heard his keys in the door. you ran over to him and he wrapped you in his arms immediately, his familiar scent filling your nose as you buried your face in his chest.

“i’m sorry,” you mumbled.

“i know. i forgive you,” he laughed softly. “i am a little sad i don’t get to take that outfit off you, but i might like this one even more.”

you smiled, placing soft kisses up his neck until your lips connected. he walked you backwards to the bedroom and let your fingers undo the buttons of his shirt. once he was down to his boxers, you both crawled into bed, your head on his chest as his fingers traced little patterns on your thigh.

“i love you,” you mumbled, very sleepy after a long day.

“i love you too.”

“i love you more than anyone else on earth,” you clarified, and it was the truth. vince smiled, though you couldn’t see it, and kissed the top of your head.

“i know. goodnight baby,” he said softly, and you were out before you could say anything back. while he wasn’t exactly happy about what had happened, he felt better knowing that at the end of the day, it was his arms that you were falling asleep in.

disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned

[swimmingismywholelife]

The Only Reason

Summary: Even though your relationship with Christian has been rocky, neither of you are willing to go down without a fight.

Warnings: 18+, arguments, panic attack, a lot of crying, angst but a fluffy (if you can call it that I guess) ending, SMUT, some dirty talk, soft dom!Chris, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it and make sure you're not allergic to your wrap!), fingering, oral (f receiving), creampie, the smut is sweet tbh

WC: 4.4K

A/N: It's my birthday but this is a present for all of you! Inspired by "The Only Reason" by 5 Seconds of Summer. My first attempt at smut which lowkey I wasn't supposed to add but it fit anyway. This is a step considering I'm openly horny on main now so you might see more in the future 👀. I literally changed it 1274045923845 times but I'm happy with the way it turned out so I hope you guys think it's good-

"Even though my dizzy head is numb

I swear my heart is never giving up.

You're the reason

The only reason."

~~~

The front door slammed shut, indicating Christian was finally home from training. You sighed, praying this would blow over quickly so you could enjoy your dinner.

The past few weeks had been incredibly frustrating for the both of you. Chelsea had been on a losing streak with hardly any goals and Christian hardly got any play time. He was in the middle of trying to negotiate some sort of deal with the club, either to transfer or give him more playing time. Although it wasn't the option he preferred, it was likely he'd be transferred somewhere else soon, and with that contract talks had to be opened. He loved Chelsea, but the club didn't seem to return that love to him. It heavily weighed on Christian's mind, slowly draining him of the love he had for the sport, sending him deeper into a depressive and angry spiral causing him lash out on everyone.

On top of that, your own stresses had started building up. Your workload had tripled due to you being short staffed. Every time you thought you were done with a project, a modification was added or a brand new one was added to your list of things to do. You were working overtime almost every single day and you were close to ripping your hair out.

Between your work and Christian's training, you'd hardly seen each other over the past few months. He'd been extra short with you recently, something that was pretty unusual for Christian. You were typically the one who struggled to keep your anger in check, but these days it seemed your boyfriend could give you a run for your money. Most days you spent sleeping away from each other as opposed to being cuddled in each others arms. During the very brief moments you did end up spending time together, more often than not it resulted in some kind of an argument.

You both agreed earlier that morning that you were in desperate need of some kind of date night to ease your minds and to spend time together. You decided that a simple dinner would be sufficient enough. It was something small, you wouldn't have to go anywhere, and it was always one of your favorite date ideas since you'd gotten together. You were excited to finally spend time with your boyfriend even if it wasn't anything fancy.

But you knew by the way Christian slammed the door that he thought otherwise. He angrily threw his training bag to the side, grumbling to himself.

"Chris, it doesn't do you any good to pace angrily around the house," you sighed. "At least come eat and try to take your mind off things."

It seemed you only made him angrier.

"God, what don't you get?!" he snapped back. "Fucking food isn't gonna help the situation. Our team is shit, this situation is shit, everything is shit!"

You stood up from your place at the table, upset with Christian for yelling at you when you just wanted to help.

"I understand you're frustrated with everything, but don't take it out on me!" you yelled back. "All I'm trying to do is help you. I'm not a fucking emotional punching bag for you to take your shit out on Christian!"

He slammed his hands on the table, the sound echoing throughout the entire house. It startled you. Christian wasn't one to express his anger through violence like this.

"Why do I even keep fucking trying with you?! All you do is nag and nag and nag! You keep 'trying to help' but you're not!" he screamed back. "All you do is get in my face of 'oh Christian do this,' 'oh Christian try and do that.' Get out of my face for once I'm fucking tired of it!"

You were stunned. Your heart with each word Christian spat out at you. You loved him, but you knew you didn't deserve what he'd been giving you for the past few months.

"Fine. I'll 'get out of your face,'" you said calmly.

"Actually you know what? I'll do it myself. Being in here suffocates me," he said venomously, grabbing his keys and storming out the house.

You moved into the bedroom the two of you shared. What once felt like home to you felt like a prison suffocating you the longer you stood in it. And you just fell to your knees and cried.

You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment where it all started going wrong. You and Christian weren't perfect of course, but you just worked. You understood each other like no one else. You'd experienced things together that you'd never had with other people. You hadn't grown up with Christian in the past, but that didn't matter. He was your present and was going to be your future.

But that was then. Somewhere along the way, things changed. Nowadays he barely made time for you. He was gone before you woke up and you were asleep before he came home. Date nights were nonexistent, special occasions stopped being special. You couldn't keep begging for his attention, wondering if this time would be enough to keep it.

You didn't want things to end. That was absolutely the last thing you wanted to do. You loved Christian with everything you had. But you were the only one trying and you both knew that. Somewhere Christian just fell out of love with you while you were desperately trying to grasp onto something. But it was no use. He was gone a long time ago.

Christian was in the middle of figuring out the trajectory of his career, unsure if he was to wait out his contract with Chelsea for the next season or leave for a club that truly appreciated him. And pretty soon, he would be flying back to the States for international break. The last thing you wanted to do was add onto the stress Christian was feeling.

But how long would you have to keep sacrificing your own happiness for the sake of his?

Christian didn't come home that night, nor the night after that, nor the night after that. Not that you really expected him to. He hadn't been home all that much anyway, and even while he was there physically, he wasn't there. So sleeping alone in your bed wasn't that much of a foreign feeling anymore anyway. And the longer he was away, the foggier your mind became. The answer was right there in front of you. This was Christian blatantly telling you how he felt about your relationship. Right?

It wasn't until about a week later that Christian had contacted you, letting you know he'd be coming back that night. You mentally prepared yourself for the worst.

The door opened, causing you to snap out of your thoughts. You could hear the clattering of the keys being placed on the table and footsteps heading up the stairs.

The lights flickered in your bedroom. Your eyes met his, startling him.

"Oh hey, I didn't realize you'd still be up," Christian said surprised, removing his jacket and placing it on a chair.

"We need to talk Christian," you said, trying to prevent your voice from wavering.

"We'll talk in the morning, Y/N. It's kind of late and I don't want another fight right now," he responded.

"I'm serious Christian," you answered, feeling your heart breaking already. "And I don't think this can wait until morning."

"Why do you keep using my full name?" Christian asked uncomfortably. "You only use it like this when something's really wrong."

You didn't answer. Instead you got up from your place on the bed and hugged his waist, completely breaking down. You felt like you couldn't breathe through all the tears and the pain you felt. Your body gave out as you fell to the ground, taking Christian with you.

For a second time that night, Christian was surprised. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, kissing your head.

"Hey, hey, baby what's wrong? What's going on?" he asked.

You couldn't get the words out. You only cried harder as he led you back to your bed. You took in this moment with him, not knowing if this was the last night you would sharing with him. You tried to memorize the scent of his favorite cologne, how perfectly you fit into his arms, the way his kisses felt. You wanted to remember how safe you felt with Christian and how your heart longed for him to come home to you.

"It's okay, baby, it's okay. I'm right here. I won't ever let anything hurt you," he said, trying to soothe you.

Little did he realize he was the reason you were hurting so much.

You held Christian close to you as the weight of your decision started to kick in. You wanted nothing more in this world than to be with Christian. He meant everything to you. You wanted it all with him. You wanted to marry him one day, carry his children, grow old together. You wanted to wear his last name to every game he played, to support him as he reached all his dreams. You could have nothing but Christian and you would be perfectly content.

Your mother had told you growing up that every scenario that came your way had three answers: yes, no, or wait. And you so desperately wanted to believe Christian was your sign that being patient was worth it. That waiting would be worth it. That one day it would bring you the happiness you craved and you deserved.

But how long were you supposed to wait? How long had you waited for him to fulfill his promises? How long had you been patient with him? How long had you stayed loyal every time he'd taken his anger out on you? How long had you been contemplating if you were worth saving? Was this just patience or were you holding onto something that you should've let go of a long time ago?

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier baby," he said, stroking your hair trying to soothe you. "I didn't mean it. I love you so much. I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry."

You couldn't get words out. You needed just one last night to call yourself his before you could make your final decision.

"Just hold me please," you sobbed out, gripping his body as hard as you could.

"I'll do whatever you need baby. I'm right here. I'll always be right here."

Christian was scared. He didn't fully understand what was going on or why you were crying the way you were. But he knew something was off and something was wrong. So he just held you as you let out all the emotions you'd been feeling for weeks.

Christian knew it was more serious than he initially thought when you kept crying for over an hour. He didn't realize how absent he'd been from your life until then. How long had you been feeling such emotional turmoil? What else had he missed? Why were you crying this hard for so long?

Truthfully, he was afraid to find out. As shitty of a boyfriend he'd been over the past few weeks, Christian loved you with every fiber of his being. The last thing he wanted to do was lose you, the relationship you'd built up for years together.

But he knew the likelihood of a break up was probably looming in your mind. Was this it? Was this a sign that something was coming to an end? He didn't want to know. He knew you two needed to talk, especially after the way he walked out. But he was afraid of the outcome.

So he just held you close to him, praying this wouldn't be the last time he got to feel you like this. He took in your scent, trying to memorize the way you felt in his arms. He left kisses on your forehead, shoulders, and cheeks, wiping the tears away as he went.

You eventually calmed down, your grip on Christian never loosening.

"Christian I-" you gasped out.

"It's okay baby, take your time. You don't have to rush anything you don't want to," he whispered gently, kissing your forehead again.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly.

"Baby, you have nothing to be sorry about," he said. "If anything, I should be the one who's sorry. I've been such a horrible boyfriend. I shouldn't have said what I said, I shouldn't have done what I did."

"Christian…" you trailed.

"Shh, it's okay baby. It's okay. We don't have to talk about this right now. We can talk about this in the morning. Just let me hold you right now. Everything is going to be okay," he said softly.

"Chris I'm scared," you whispered.

His heart broke a little knowing you were scared of what morning would entail.

"I'm scared too baby. I'm so fucking scared," he admitted. "But we'll talk about this when it comes okay? Just be here with me now. Nothing else is going to hurt you tonight I promise."

The two of you were laying on your side facing each other. Your head was tucked into his chest, tears flowing every so often. Christian never once let go, not even when his arms started going numb. You were afraid to close your eyes, scared that Christian would be gone the moment you opened them.

Your body stopped shaking and you eventually stopped crying during the early morning hours. You were quiet. And if he didn't know you well, Christian would've believed you were asleep.

But he knew better. He knew that you couldn't sleep because neither could he. Just two souls barely hanging on by a thread not knowing how to fix it.

Did you want to fix things? Or were things so far gone there was nothing you could do anymore? Was this still worth it? Was a future still possible? Would love be enough to save this?

You were set on breaking up with him the night before. You were so sure that's what you wanted. But under the moonlight that peaked through your window, you didn't know what to do anymore. Your head was dizzy with thoughts and you couldn't think clearly anymore.

"Christian?" you called out quietly.

"Yeah?"

"What are we doing?"

His body tensed at the question. He was quiet at first, not wanting to say the wrong thing. He knew this was it. His answer would either make or break your relationship.

"I don't know baby," he answered honestly.

You nestled your head further into his chest.

"I don't want to keep doing this. Guessing if you still want us. You're either in or you're out Chris. I don't want to keep playing your games."

Christian had to stop himself from letting out a sob and took a deep breath. You didn't trust him or his words anymore. And realizing that absolutely broke his heart.

"Can you look at me Y/N?" he asked.

You hesitated for a moment before lifting your head. Christian cupped your cheek with his hand, gently rubbing his thumb back and forth. He rested his forehead on yours.

"You don't have to say anything okay? Just hear me out. I know I've been a shitty boyfriend. I know I haven't been there for you. I haven't treated you well. I've lashed out on you when you've done nothing but love and support me. Through all the shit the world's thrown at me this season, you've been everything I need and more. And I haven't appreciated that. And you deserve so much more than what I've been giving you."

Christian stopped for a moment, taking the opportunity to look at you. How could he have hurt you so bad? How could he let everything slip between his fingers?

"I'm sorry for everything I've put you through. I'm sorry that you've lost trust in my words. You always tell me that my words, my actions, and my intentions need to line up and they haven't been and I'm so sorry for that. I'm sorry I've broken so many promises. And most of all, I'm sorry that you're hurting and I'm the cause of it when I told you I'd never let anyone hurt you. I failed to see what was right in front of me and I've taken you for granted and I'm so sorry."

A tear fell from your eye, quickly caught by Christian's thumb.

"I don't deserve you. I really don't. You know that and I know that better than anyone."

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead further into yours.

"But please don't give up on us. I know you can't trust my words right now, but I swear to you I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I can't let you go. Not now and not ever. No more games. No more confusion. No more trying to guess where my head and where my heart stand with you. Right here, right now, forever and always I'm with you. My head is with you. My heart is with you. All of me is with you. And I promise I'll prove it every day for as long as I live. So please. Give me one last chance to be with you."

You didn't know what to say. You didn't know what you wanted anymore. How could you trust him? He was saying all the right words, but did he really mean it? Were they more empty words?

Yes, no, or wait. Just like your mother said. But you'd waited so long that it seemed almost futile. Had you been wasting your time? Or was this what you were meant to do?

And though your head was fighting with itself, dizzy and numb from the constant questions running around, you knew where your heart lied. So you did the only thing you felt could portray how you felt enough to give him and answer.

You lifted your chin and kissed him deeply, wrapping your arms around his neck. His grip on your cheek was firm, bringing you as close as you could physically get. The tears wouldn't stop flowing from either of your faces, but none of that mattered. What mattered was here and now.

Yes, no, or wait. And you finally got your answer.

He kissed you like you were the oxygen he needed to breathe. And truthfully, he needed you to breathe.

You pulled back ever so slightly, just enough for you to be able to talk.

"You get one chance at this Chris. Only one," you said breathlessly. "Don't waste it."

His lips were back on yours in response, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip. You let out a soft moan as he pushed you onto your back, settling himself in between your legs. He pulled back keeping his forehead to yours breathing heavily.

"I love you Y/N. I love you so much you don't even know," he said. "I won't waste it. Not ever again."

You grabbed his shirt and pulled him back to your lips, needing to feel him closer. Your hands traveled underneath his shirt, nails scratching his skin lightly as they roamed his chest.

Christian pulled back from you for a moment to rip his shirt off before attaching his lips back to yours, giving you more access to him. You couldn't keep your hands off each other, your legs wrapping around his hips to bring you even closer to him.

"Chris," you whispered. "I need-"

"I know baby," he answered. "I know. Let me take care of you."

You whimpered beneath him as his lips moved to your neck, leaving a trail of marks as he gave you sloppy but gentle kisses. He bit down on the spot just below your ear, causing you to let out a loud moan.

"Does that feel good baby?" he whispered into your ear, sending shivers down your spine that resonated throughout your whole body.

"God yes Chris it feels so good please," you begged beneath him.

His hands grabbed the bottom of your shirt, bringing it over your head and pressing his chest against yours as he kissed your lips gently.

"So fucking beautiful. And all mine," he said to himself.

His lips returned to your neck, this time the trail leading to your breasts. You gasped as you felt his tongue along your nipple, pressing yourself further into his mouth. You only squirmed more as he moved to your other side, your fingers tangled in his hair tugging lightly. He kissed down your torso until he reached the band of your shorts.

"May I?" he asked softly.

You nodded your head frantically.

"Words baby." His fingers hooked into them, toying with the fabric. "You know the drill. I can't give you what you want unless you tell me."

"Yes please," you whined, wiggling your hips in the hopes of getting the clothing off you faster.

"Please what Y/N?"

"Please take them off Chris please. I wanna feel you on my pussy please, please, please."

"Good girl."

He slowly slid your shorts down, taking a little too long for your liking. He kissed down your stomach, loving how you were falling apart beneath him.

His fingers rubbed over the dark spot of your underwear. You gasped, hands grabbing the sheets tightly. He moved his fingers almost in a trance watching as the patch grew darker and larger.

"You're so fucking wet baby. You like it when I touch you like this?" he chuckled.

"Yes I love feeling you play with my pussy!" you moaned, grinding your hips against his fingers.

Christian pulled your underwear to the side. You shivered in anticipation as you felt Christian's breath on your lips.

"Can I taste you?" he asked, running his fingers through your folds.

"God yes! Please let me feel your tongue," you begged, lacing your fingers through his hair to bring him closer.

"As you wish princess."

Your back arched the moment his tongue made contact with you. He licked from the bottom all the way to your clit, lightly sucking on it. You moaned tugging at his curls. The louder you moaned, the faster he went alternating between licking and sucking. Your thighs closed around his head as you pushed him closer to you.

You were so lost in the pleasure that you were surprised when Christian inserted two of his fingers into your folds. You moaned even louder at the intrusion.

"God Christian more please. Please I need more!"

You were begging, but you didn't even know what you were begging for. You just wanted him to keep going.

Christian was enjoying every second of this. He loved watching you fall apart beneath him.

"You need more baby? So greedy. My tongue sucking on your clit and my fingers deep inside your pussy. What else could you want?" he teased, picking up the speed as he fucked you with his fingers.

You couldn't form any proper sentences anymore. Incoherent noises left your mouth as your body started shaking uncontrollably, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"Damn baby you're shaking. Are you close already? I've barely even done anything," he mused, inserting a third finger and fucking you even faster.

"God I'm so fucking close please let me cum! Please please please I need to cum please Christian please!" you all but screamed.

"Shh, it's okay. You can cum baby. Let it go for me," he said softly.

Your vision went blank as you came, your hands grasping at Christian's curls to anchor you to reality. Your legs shook violently as Christian continued coaxing your climax out of you, only slowing down as your body started spasming with overstimulation.

"Christian I need more," you whined, gasping for air.

"I know baby, I know. I'll take good care of you," he said. "I'm right here okay?"

Christian kissed your lips gently, making your heart flutter. He softly caressed your face admiring how you glowed under the moonlight. You melted under his gaze holding him close to you.

"You okay?" he asked.

You nodded, giving him the go ahead. He moved back just enough to remove his bottoms before taking his place between your legs again. He placed both of his hands gently on your cheeks, resting his forehead against yours. He looked deep into your eyes as his thrusted his hips into yours. You gasped into his mouth as he picked up the speed, grinding slow but deep.

"I love you Christian," you moaned breathlessly.

"I love you Y/N," he responded. "I love you so much. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me and I'm sorry I made you feel otherwise. And I'll spend the rest of my life proving my worth to you."

The room was quiet except for the skin slapping against each other and the soft gasps you let out. You grabbed Christian's neck, bringing him as close as you possibly could. You needed him in every sense of the word, wanting to feel every inch of his skin on yours. He was yours and you were his. Your bodies intertwined in the same way your souls had all those years ago and that was all you really needed.

"Chris I need-" you were cut off with a particularly deep thrust making you moan, tugging at the curls on the nape of Christian's neck.

"I'm close too baby. Cum with me. Become one with me Y/N."

You had one of the strongest orgasms you'd ever had in your life. Your chest pressed into his as his cum filled you up, clenching your pussy around him. You held each other tightly, afraid to lose one another as space came between you.

The both of you laid there for a moment, basking in the afterglow of being so intimate. You gasped into each others mouths as your heartrates began to slow down ever so slightly.

"God you're so beautiful. The most beautiful woman I've ever seen," Christian said in awe of you.

You flushed beneath him becoming shy.

"Babe you just came all over my dick. You really shouldn't be that shy," he said cheekily. You scoffed and hit his chest slightly.

"You're actually ridiculous," you said lovingly, pressing your lips to his for a quick kiss.

He pecked you once more before pulling out of you. He got up, grabbing a towel and gently cleaning your body. He left kisses as he went, worshipping your body. Once he was done, he laid on his back bringing your head onto his chest. He kissed the top of your head as you tucked yourself beneath his arm.

"Are we okay Christian?" you asked meekly.

"Yeah baby. We're okay. We're gonna be okay."

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