#i really needed to put this into words in order to understand what the hell was going on with me

[nastybuckybarnes]

Welcome Home

Pairing: Simon Riley X Reader

Summary: Nothing shatters the tension of a fight quite like needing your boyfriend to rush home to save you from people who would do you harm.

Warnings: Angst, Language, Fighting, Fluff, Kind of mean!Simon but not too bad, very minor violence, home invasion, I think that's it...?

Word Count: 1.5K

A/n: we're gonna dip a toe in the COD water and see what happens. I love ghost and Konig so we'll see what else I do there. For any and all COD stuff, I use Canadian Military as a basis for the readers background.

~*~

"I've had enough of this. I'm not gonna argue with you about somethin' so stupid," he hisses, glaring at you with hard, cold eyes.

"It's not stupid, Simon, you just don't want to ever entertain the idea of talking about things that might make you slightly uncomfortable!"

"Oh fuckin hell." He drags a hand down his face and shakes his head.

"Everythin's always gotta end with you being right, doesn't it?"

You frown at his absolute lack of any sort of understanding or empathy.

"This isn't about me being right, this is about you at the very least hearing me out!" You try.

"You knew what you were getting in to the moment you met me, m'not sure what you're expecting of me now. S'not like I can go and change the way things are, now can I?"

You narrow your eyes at him and his blatant ignorance.

"I understand full well, Lieutenant. I've been there, which is something you seem to conveniently forget."

He lets out a humourless chuckle and shakes his head, "don't go put yourself in the same category as me now, lovey. You know you weren't exactly at my level when you served."

His words are a slap in the face.

Sure, you were never quite JTF2 or SAS level, but that doesn't mean your time in the military is any less valid than his.

Seven years of your life you devoted to serving your country, the medical help for teams like his, and all he can do is turn his nose down at it as if it means nothing to him.

"You know what? Fuck you, Simon. I never even insinuated that we were at the same level and for you to try and..." you stop, pinching the bridge of your nose as anger fills you.

"What? Got nothin' to say now? That's a shock."

It takes all your strength not to lash out at him and even more to stop your bottom lip from quivering at just how mean he's being.

Sure, he's always been a little rough around the edges, a little harsh and brazen, but never has he been so downright mean to you.

"Get out."

"What?" This seems to genuinely catch him off guard, his arrogance faltering for a moment.

"Get out. Leave."

Simon Riley isn't a man who gets scared. He's been chewed up and spat out of hell before. Nothing on Earth can get the jump on him and nothing can scare him.

At least, that's what he thought.

His palms tingle and he needs to grind his teeth together a few times to collect himself before speaking.

"So that's it then?" He asks, his deep voice barking the question like he would an order.

You two have had your fair share of fights in the time that you've been dating, even more since you moved in together, but none where he's thought you might end things.

"I'm not gonna stand here and take a verbal beating from you, Si. Get out and come back when you've had a chance to fucking cool off."

He stares at you for a long moment, testing your resolve, waiting to see if you really mean it.

When you hold his glare, not backing down, he grabs his coat, mask, and keys and storms out of the house without another word.

You stand there in the kitchen for a long moment, the silence ringing heavily in your ears before you storm up the stairs to take a shower and, hopefully, argue out all your hostility in private.

The warm water runs over your tense shoulders for a few minutes and you try your hardest to relax, to let the anger seep out of you and run down the drain, but when you hear the front door open you're filled with rage once more.

You stand in the shower silently, waiting for the door to open and close again, signalling his departure, but instead you just hear boots on the kitchen floor.

Scoffing and shaking your head, you start to seethe.

As if he's wearing his shoes in the house on top of everything else.

You yank the shower curtain aside and step out onto the mat, not bothering to turn the shower off.

A crash from the kitchen makes you freeze.

Simon is never this loud.

Like a deer on the highway, you stay still, silencing your breathing as you listen to the noises coming from the kitchen.

Instead of calling out to him and potentially causing more trouble, you take a silent step to the counter where your phone lies.

You grab it and hit his icon quickly, listening to it ring for a while before he sends you to his voicemail. A loud beep sounds tauntingly in your ear and you huff out an angry breath.

You hang up and call him back, grinding your teeth together when he sends you straight to voicemail again.

The noises in the kitchen continue, and your heart jumps into your throat.

Answer your phone, Simon.

You shoot the text off quickly then immediately call him again, your stomach settling when the call connects.

"Are you home?" You waste no time on pleasantries, and instead hear him sigh heavily.

"You told me to get the fuck out, didn't ya? Why would I be home."

Your breath hitches and you press your back to the bathroom door, turning the lock silently as panic fills you.

"Simon, someone's here."

The fear in your voice has his blood running cold, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tighter as your fight gets shoved from his mind.

"What do you mean 'someone's here'?" He asks, his voice lacking the anger it had only moments ago.

"I heard the door open and I can hear someone in the kitchen."

You hear his tires screeching on the pavement and his engine roaring as he speeds home.

"Where are you right now?" This isn't Simon talking now. You recognize the change.

This is Ghost.

"I'm in our bathroom. Door locked and shower on."

"Good. Keep that water running. As long as they think you don't know they're there, you should be okay until I get home."

"Okay." You feel a little bit safer knowing he's on his way home.

"Keep me on the line."

"Okay."

There's a few seconds of just breathing before you speak again.

"How far are you?"

"Two minutes away."

"Okay... After you deal with these guys we can go back to yelling at each other," you whisper, wrapping a towel around your body and leaning against the wall across from the door.

He chuckles softly and the sound makes a small smile tug at your lips.

As much as he pisses you off and even sometimes hurts your feelings, deep down you know you'll never love anyone the way you love him.

You don't realize you've been quiet until he calls your name softly.

"You still with me, dove?" His voice is soft and you hear him turn the car off.

"I'm here."

"Good. I'm home now, don't come out of the bathroom 'till I come get you, understood?"

"Understood."

Sometimes living with Simon reminds you of being on base, and there are times when you despise it.

And then there are the times when you don't mind it as much. This is one of those times.

You hear the muffled sound of what must be him putting his phone in his pocket, and you close your eyes as you hear the soft click of the door handle through the speaker.

His footsteps are silent, even through the phone, and you feel ridiculous for ever thinking you'd hear it if he came home.

You can hear him as he takes down one intruder, and then what must be a second one.

He says nothing to them, that you can hear. But a series of dull thuds echo through the house before silence remains.

A few minutes go by of nothing, but you don't dare speak or open the door.

Ghost gave you an order, and you have no intentions of disobeying.

There are a few more moments of silence before you hear a crisp knock on the door.

"Lovey? You can open up now."

Breathing out a sigh of relief, you open the bathroom door and are immediately engulfed in Simon's strong arms.

He walks you backwards into the bathroom and squeezes you to his chest, mask hiked up over his nose so he can breathe in the scent of you.

"You all right, love?" He asks softly, his voice gruff and ever so rough.

"M'okay, Si. Thank you for coming home."

"S'my fault anyway. I shoulda locked the door before leavin' in a huff the way I did."

You frown and shake your head, pulling away to look up at him.

"This is in no way your fault, Simon. I could've easily locked the door after you. I'm just happy you got home in time."

Though you're not sure what the intruders really wanted, you're glad you didn't have to find out alone.

"I'll always come home."

And with those four words, he puts to rest not only the intruder situation, but also your argument from earlier.

Because he will. He'll always come home to you, regardless of what he needs to do, he'll make sure he comes home to you.

[satoruxx]

THE SPACE BETWEEN COMFORT AND CHAOS.

✧ PAIRING: wolf!toji fushiguro x f!reader | 4.3k words

✧ SUMMARY: wolfhybrid!toji, hybrid au, flashback centric, grumpy x sunshine, animalistic behavior, mentions of injuries, violence, societal inequality, arguments, hateful speech towards hybrids, dysfunctional families, and a shit ton of angst and anger, lil fluff at the end !!

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: hiii it's my birthday this weekend so i'm dropping chapter 4 as a quick thank you for all the support !! i love you all so much <33 this one is very toji centric and gives a lot of his past and lore to explain why he is the way he is and what led him to find reader !! there is a lot of inequality in this chapter so keep that in mind as you proceed. as always i would recommend checking out the previous parts before reading this :33

prev. | series masterlist.

the smell of blood makes toji's eyes crack open. it fills his nostrils, heavy and metallic, and it makes his hair stand on end. despite being so used to that scent, it still makes him uneasy, because sometimes he cannot tell whose blood it is.

once his eyes adjust to the dim lighting, he can't fall back asleep, though he knows he still needs rest. a series of cracks echo from his joints as he sits up, pulses of fatigue swimming through his muscles. pushing up from the ground, he casually approaches the metal bars of his cell.

his cage.

his nose twitches, the smell of blood stronger now that he's closer. a loud yawn rips from his throat, eyes catching some guards dragging another hybrid who had fought that day. he watches them throw the unconscious animal into his cell, not sparing another glance as they turn away. the sounds of their boots gets on toji's nerves, but he does not even have enough time to pity the poor creature.

another set of guards approach his cell. he's sure that they might once again tell him off for being too aggressive, or for not following orders, or for another whipping, but he's saved this time because they're just escorting a hybrid.

a familiar hybrid.

"what's wrong?" toji drawls, lips tugging into a casual smirk. "did y'lose?"

the tiger hybrid hisses angrily in return, as though personally offended, and bares his teeth. his striped ears starkly contrast his pinkish hair.

"like hell," sukuna answers proudly.

toji is about to comment on the various bloodied scratches littering sukuna's body, but one of the guards roughly shoves the tiger into his cell.

"get in!"

sukuna turns to pin him with a murderous glare, tone even and chilling. "touch me again and i'll kill you."

the guard scoffs, unbothered, before shutting the barred door behind him. sukuna's anger rises, but he does not say anything else, choosing to stare daggers at them until they've disappeared around the corner. toji understands the feeling. it would be a piece of cake to rip their throats out, especially for predators as vicious as wolves and tigers.

but they can't. one scratch on a human and they'd be put down.

a beat of silence passes. toji is sure the hybrid sitting across the hall is also thinking about the same thing, so used to biting his tongue just to stay alive.

(he remembers the first day sukuna got thrown in, hisses and snapping teeth as he cursed the guards with all sorts of creativity. toji had been underground long enough to see the same spectacle over and over again, and so he hadn't really given a damn at that time. the two passed weeks in silence, purely focused on their own individual fights and then immediately falling asleep once back in their respective cells.

toji was no expert at reading people, but he could tell that the tiger was as stubborn as he was—they refused to acknowledge one another.

and when they were finally pitted against each other, it was a messy fight. toji still remembers the way the crowd had roared at their aggressive attacks, every draw of blood eliciting some sick twisted pleasure within them.

toji had been used to putting in the bare minimum during his fights, finding it relatively easy to win against other predators. but that fight against sukuna was the first time he struggled a little bit.

the tiger will never admit it, but the feeling was definitely mutual.

so after the brawl, when they were both quietly sitting in their cages and hissing at their wounds stubbornly, there was a brief moment of acknowledgement.

"where the hell did you learn how to fight like that?" the tiger had eyed toji warily, thick brows furrowed in a way that made him look extra grumpy.

after that, it seemed that there was a mutual sense of respect between the two of them. they are not friends per se, definitely not. both toji and sukuna know that if it came down to it, they would kill the other in the arena if it meant staying alive.

but there was an understanding that they were both on the same level. and it seemed that those who ran the fights understood that too.

after all, fights between the two of them were always a very popular spectacle.)

even now, sukuna doesn't look at toji, too busy muttering a string of insults aimed at the guard from earlier. toji ignores them, used to it. they remain in that same silence, not uncomfortable, but not really comfortable either.

toji takes a seat, crossing his legs and leaning against the cold bars. he can still hear the sounds of the guards footsteps echoing through the halls, and that just makes him crave freedom—another familiar feeling.

he should be used to it by now. craving what he cannot have.

sukuna seems to know what he's thinking, because he scoffs with a dramatic roll of his eyes. "don't start."

"you don't ever think about running?" toji ponders, dragging his claws across the stone floor. the tiger's ears twitch, sensitive to the sound, and he throws toji a scathing scowl.

"run? where the hell would we go?" the tiger grumbles, crossing his bulky arms. "you know they'll just find us again. it's pointless."

"but it's happened before," toji insists, scratching behind his ear absentmindedly. there have always been whispers floating through the compound, of hybrids with guts of steel that took it upon themselves to make a run for it. though several were caught and devastatingly punished, there were those who they never saw again. the idea that they must be somewhere where light shines and wind blows is strangely comforting.

"yeah rarely," the tiger snorts in return. a quiet hiss of displeasure escapes his lips as he notices the claw marks running up his arm, and he carefully begins licking at his wounds. "most of the time those fools get caught. and then they get punished."

toji shrugs noncommittally, leaning his head against the bars. "worth the risk."

sukuna curiously peers at him from over his injured arm, heavy brows furrowed. "you really think it's that much better up there?"

"anywhere's better than in here." toji says it resolutely, and sukuna, normally so snippy, says nothing to rebuke him.

before the conversation can continue, toji's nostrils fill with a familiar scent—cigarettes, ironed clothes, faint whiskey. he suppresses a roll of his eyes.

"look who it is." he sarcastically cranes his neck, watching as shiu kong approaches his cell with a nonchalant smile.

"you sure do look relaxed for someone who just had me do a shit ton of paperwork." shiu leans against the wall, eyeing toji through the cell. toji does not like that he has to look up to meet his gaze, so he gets to his feet and casually crosses his arms.

"what the fuck did i do?"

"lots of people enjoyed your fight yesterday. with the polar bear?" shiu pulls out a cigarette, and toji's nose crinkles. "you've got an increase in bets, y'know?"

"who cares?" toji mutters, pushing away from the bars to pace around his cell.

it's not like any of the hybrids get that money.

"i do," shiu chuckles, cigarette balanced between his lips. "you're helping me get paid."

"lucky you," toji sarcastically shoots back. shiu snorts in amusement, crossing his arms.

"anyways, i'm thinking this is a good time to host a big fight for you. the timing is good." toji's "manager" (if that's what you can call him) eyes the wolf as he exhales a puff of smoke. toji's eyes narrow in return, a feeling of anticipation and mild irritation crawling up his skin.

"so you two—" shiu nods his head towards the wolf and the grumpy tiger sitting across the hall. "—prepare for a show, alright?"

sukuna curses colorfully, and toji rolls his eyes. "relax. i'm not giddy to fight you either, asshole."

"yeah because you'll lose," the tiger hisses, baring his teeth.

"oh yeah? that's not what happened last time." toji grins wolfishly, watching sukuna's anger rise.

"because you fucking cheated!"

"aw, little cat can't handle a few bites?" toji's amusement becomes more palpable, enjoying the argument—a very common occurrence for the two of them. "that's why dogs are better."

"i'll kill you," sukuna utters ominously, his striped tail puffed and curling in an aggressively defensive display.

"try it," toji smirks back.

"alright easy boys," shiu chuckles, shaking his head in mild exasperation. "save that energy for the actual fight. people eat that shit up."

"and somehow we're the animals," sukuna grumbles, deciding he's done with the conversation as he heads over to the corner of his cell and curls up on the ground.

"well yeah," shiu shrugs, unfazed. "you should be used to that by now."

they are.

"anyway i figured i'd let you know." the older man turns to face toji. "i know most of the fights are pretty easy for you. but since you both are top tier fighters, prepare how you need to."

"it's not like we've never fought before," toji replies dryly, ears twitching. "i know how it goes down."

"well okay." shiu adjusts his suit jacket, shoving his hands into his pockets.

from the corner of his eye, toji can see sukuna listening in, face impassive.

"you two give me a good show, alright?" shiu casually waves over his shoulder, before heading off back in the direction he came.

"whatever," sukuna grunts, turning on his side. toji watches the tiger's tail lazily flick—side to side. "i hate dogs."

toji lets out a dry chuckle. "well i'm not the biggest fan of cats either, asshole."

again, they aren't friends, but the bleakness of their situation makes it easier to tolerate one another.

a week later, they both face off in the area as promised. shiu claps toji on the back before he heads in, a gesture that makes the wolf's skin prickle, but he brushes it off. he could have someone worse be in charge of him, but shiu is a bit easier to get along with than most of the humans down there. though toji isn't naive—the only reason shiu is so casually cheery around him is because toji is his biggest moneymaker.

that's what it all came down to.

sukuna and toji have both fought enough times to know how to play to the crowd's wishes. they bark and snarl at each other like they are truly wild, claws and teeth and blood everywhere because they know that's what gets the humans going.

that's what gets them to open their wallets at least.

sukuna takes the victory this time around, which is not inherently unusual—they both have a fairly even split of victories and losses. they play up their enmity, and everyone goes wild.

even though hybrids are the shackled ones, somehow these humans remind toji of puppets—so easily manipulated.

the two of them stand and rile up the crowd at the end, acting like they truly are nothing but feral animals who know only to growl and snap at each other. as soon as they hear the sounds of money being exchanged and the roar of conversation they are escorted back to their cells.

toji's ears ring with the sounds of groans and cheers, the same familiar words grating his ears.

"i told you sukuna would win this one!"

"yeah but i said toji would draw first blood, so pay up!"

imbeciles. savages. nothing humane about them.

in their cells, both of them do their best to clean up their wounds. but a fight this aggressive usually results in equally rough damage.

"i think you fractured my rib or something," toji grunts, wincing as he sits down. sukuna throws him an unimpressed look through the bars of his cage.

"not my fault you're weak."

toji's middle finger flies up automatically, and sukuna's lips pull up to one side. "ask them for medical if it's that bad."

"yeah right," toji snorts, licking away the blood that has been dripping from the corner of his mouth. "like they'll listen."

it's more of a curse that hybrids have a better pain tolerance than humans. the medics here never take their injuries seriously for that exact reason.

no instead, they are expected to clean up as they can and prepare for the next fight, letting their body heal as well as possible. humans have always been so hypocritical.

they both relax in a welcome silence. toji suddenly realizes how tired he is, jade eyes straining as he attempts to fix himself up. he knows the rules—damaged merchandise is treated as such.

his ears pick up the faint sound of footsteps approaching, and he realizes that it's probably shiu coming over to update them about the earnings of their fights.

but he is entirely surprised.

"wow, you're definitely a sight."

toji's eyes narrow, teeth gritting. his mood plummets, ears straightening and tail going rigid. the sound of that voice makes every bit of hatred in toji's body come bubbling to the surface. he glares over his shoulder, spitting out each word with extreme difficulty. "what the fuck do you want?"

naoya zenin looks down his nose at the wolf, a greasy smile on his face. naobito zenin stands just behind him, arms crossed with a barely visible look of disgust on his face.

toji's cousin conveniently ignores the accusatory question, peering around the cells and hallway with feigned interest. "these conditions are terrible!"

he finally pins toji with his gaze, an evil smile pulling at his lips. "well, that's to be expected for animals."

"what the fuck do you want?!" toji growls, claws digging into the ground. naoya's eyes light up at the anger, knowing full well that those claws can never come anywhere near him.

"temper! temper!" the blonde gasps, tutting at toji like he's nothing more than a child. "haven't you learned how to control yourself by now?"

"let me out of this cell and i'll show you just how much control i have." the wolf's voice is no more than a rumble, dark and ominous because there is nothing in the world that toji hates more than his own family.

naoya shakes his head, feigning a look of disappointment. "so violent. it's a good thing we put you in here. who knows how dangerous you could've been to us."

the words hit their mark, a jab of self-hatred. toji's green eyes flit over to his uncle, sharp and accusatory.

the one who ratted him out to this godforsaken place.

toji knows when normal families have a predator hybrid born into their home, they lie and cheat and hide them away from this life—too desperate to keep their child away from such danger. after all, it's not the child's fault they were born a predator.

but not toji's family. not the zenins, who took one look at him and waited for the second he turned 18 before hauling him off.

nothing but a bunch of rats.

he knows that he was worth a lot of money. a healthy and fit wolf hybrid, broader and stronger than most of his own species. and of course, his family was quick to sell him off, glad to be rid of this curse on their family—the only shame.

toji had grown up knowing he was hated, but he never thought a family could do something so horrible to one of their own. he stopped seeing the best in people after that.

"you brought this on yourself," his uncle states now, emotionless. his opinion on hybrids has not changed one bit, and yet he shamelessly comes to the compound to collect a portion of the winnings that toji earns. "born with tainted blood."

"you're acting like it's my fucking fault, old man," toji spits out, hackles raised. he wants them to leave, because all he feels when looking at them is nausea.

"it's your damn mother's fault. couldn't keep away from my brother. she ruined him," naobito's emotionless voice takes on a tone of hatred, and toji tenses. "filthy dog whore."

toji's reaction is instantaneous. he's at the bars in a second, teeth bared and spewing curses as he makes a mad grab for either of them. he doesn't care—all he wants to do is tear them to shreds. toji can feel his wounds open further, can feel blood dripping over his skin, but all that seems miniscule when they are in front of him.

the cause of every single misfortune he has ever had.

naoya hops out of the way, laughing—it is a mocking, grating laugh that echoes throughout the hall as he watches toji desperately struggle. "see see! this is why you're dangerous!"

naobito shakes his head, as though he's thoroughly disappointed, but he does not say anything else.

"anyways, well done today!" naoya continues, grinning as he crosses his arms. "you earned a lot of money for us."

toji glares at him, dropping his arm and taking a step back. somehow, being further in his cell is much more comforting than being in their line of sight. he keeps his lips tightly shut.

naoya's voice turns taunting as naobito heads off without another word. "such a shame my dear cousin wasn't born normal like the rest of us." he follows his father without a care in the world, knowing how well his words sting. "had to be born an animal freak."

the hallways is empty. toji takes a few steadying breaths, pushing the anger away because he knows that there is truly no point in keeping it. it's not like this anger has done him any good. maybe if he had gotten angry earlier, he would have zenin blood on his hands—the thought gives him a sick sense of satisfaction.

"your family fucking sucks…" sukuna pipes up from across the hall. toji scoffs out a laugh, but it is far from amused. he turns away.

suddenly the blood on his hands makes him feel disgusting—so much more animalistic than human.

"tell me about it," he mutters, back turned. his ears pick up the sounds of sukuna curling up in his corner, and in a few minutes, quiet rumbling snores follow.

toji sighs, approaching his sink and staring at the cracked mirror he's grown used to seeing himself in. he takes in his reflection, disgust rolling in his stomach.

he thinks he'd probably be considered decently attractive if he was a regular old human. but the dark furry ears, the sharp canines, and all the scars ruin him. adding his haggard clothing and feral eyes and all the blood and dirt on him, he can understand why he is considered so untouchable.

an animal in every right.

he turns the sink on. he is briefly reminded of another time, a time where he lived in a family house and slept in a futon that was warmer than anything he's ever slept in. he can remember wearing things other than rags, occasionally a yukata and other times a t-shirt. he can remember eating a home cooked meal and drinking sake and feeling sunlight on his skin.

and yet even in those better times, he has always had to hear the words of his family cursing his existence. cursing his mother's name for seducing his father and ruining their bloodline with her animal blood.

the only dark stain on the pristine zenin family.

toji sighs, scrubbing the blood from under his claws—like clockwork. the water in the sink turns a mocking shade of pink, and as horrible as it is to say, toji is glad the blood is not his.

he wipes his paws across his ragged clothes, and stares at himself in the mirror.

he isn't ashamed to admit it—but he hates what he sees.

naoya's laughter rings in his ears as he shuts his eyes.

"hey toji?"

his eyes snap open. when the haze clears he sees your features come into focus, soft and curious. your scent floods his nose, and a pleasant shiver runs up his skin. there is a quick sense of relief when he realizes that he had been dreaming of a time in the past, and he steels himself, expression indifferent as he sits up. he briefly recognizes the stark contrast between the hardness of the stone floor in his cell and the softness of your couch—his tongue sits heavy in his mouth.

"what?" he grunts, rubbing at his eyes. he tries to throw you a mock irritated glance, but either it comes off too mild or you've become good at ignoring it. "when'd you get here?"

"a few minutes ago. i got takeout." your lips pull into a teasing smile. "unless you'd rather go back to sleep?"

he pins you with a scathing glare, and annoyingly enough, your smile becomes wider. he stands up, popping his joints and following you to your kitchen table, before diligently taking a seat—in his chair.

toji silently watches you bustle around, grabbing utensils and plates to evenly distribute the food. his stomach growls eagerly, and he realizes just how hungry he is—he recognizes that his body is getting used to being fed so often, and he does not know how to feel about that.

toji's eyes zero in on silly details, not knowing why he does it. your hair is a little messy, not as neat as when you left for work that morning. you've taken off your jacket, the absence of the restrictive fabric making your movements easier. he thinks you've probably had a good day, because your expression, though fatigued, is still relaxed—a small, almost miniscule smile remains on your face.

there a strange satisfaction the settles in his chest when he notices that. he doesn't know why, but the idea that you've had a nice day rather than a difficult one puts him at ease.

"how was your day?" you speak up, briefly making eye contact with him.

(toji does not understand why the small contact makes his stomach flip.)

he grunts, nonchalant. "not bad. didn't do much."

"the injuries are good?"

toji rolls his eyes, dropping his chin into his palm as he pins you with an intrusive stare. "yeah yeah. you ask this every day."

"well it can be good one day and not good the next," you reply defensively, frowning at the chicken you're currently dropping into his plate. but you look satisfied to hear his answer.

toji chuckles mutely. "sure kid."

(the nickname came randomly. you never commented on it. he didn't either.)

he hesitates for a second, before clearing his throat. "how was yours?"

you glance up at him, too quick for him to analyze the expression, but he thinks he catches a faint trace of pleasant surprise. "it was good. boring but not bad at all."

he nods awkwardly—the internal satisfaction grows stronger. his stomach rumbles again as you walk over and place his plate in front of him, and the smell hits his nose immediately—his hunger is all consuming.

(your scent is one of the few human scents he has truly found pleasant.)

and yet he finds himself patiently waiting until you plate your own food, sitting across him quietly. he presses his hands together, bowing his head as he mutters a quiet "thank you for the food" before tucking in.

(he does not say your name, but he thinks he is thanking you—his own twisted version of a god.)

he stays quiet for most of the meal, focusing on the unique and savory taste of the food. months ago he would not have imagined being able to consume such delicacy, but all you have done since you walked into his life is show him that he can have much more than he ever dreamed he could.

you blabber about random things as you eat, telling him about something you saw or what you did throughout the day. he listens.

you're in the middle of updating him about some stupid work drama, which, as embarrassing as it is to say, toji has been looking forward to hearing about. he does not interrupt you, trying to rack his brain for all the details you've spilled the last time.

(it's pathetic how quick he finds them. something about listening to you talk that makes everything else seem useless in comparison.)

"so anyways her husband found out and got mad. but then she basically tried to deny it and said that he was accusing her of nothing." you shove a mouthful of rice into your mouth, rolling your eyes. your tongue flicks out to lick at your lips—toji's eyes shamefully trace the movement. "it's a whole thing now because obviously the dude she was having the affair with works with us too."

"what a bitch," toji answers. your eyes crinkle with amusement, eager to hear him participating. you've probably since realized that he does find your gossip interesting. but it's more than that—he does not know why it's so easy to talk to you.

"right? i hate cheaters," you mutter, stabbing at your chicken.

he does too. something about being a dog that makes loyalty so damn important to him.

(maybe that's why he feels physically ill when he thinks about leaving your side.)

you continue rambling about your cheating coworker with a newfound conviction. toji listens, occasionally dropping a dry remark, and you either laugh or nod emphatically. his lips quirk upward at every reaction. he continues eating his food—slowly so that he can match your pace. which is odd, because he was so damn hungry before.

but even as he quietly chews on the flavored meat, he finds that satiety comes a lot quicker when he quietly listens to you talk.

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[iaintnoflower]

Y las dudas en realidad fueron lo primero que me asaltó. Estaba de visita en tu casa, mirando por el balcón y añoraba quedarme ahí. Veía como el sol se filtraba entre las hojas de las tipas, veía las flores de sus ramas desprendidas deslizarse hasta el suelo por el aire, y solo quería seguir contemplando la tarde, sintiendo el viento en la cara, hasta el anochecer. Sólo quería poder quedarme ahí con vos un rato más.

Pero me urgía ir hasta retiro a tomar un micro y eso me molestaba. Me molestaba tener que irme, me molestaba ir y venir porque cada vez que volvía, hacía mella en mí lo mucho que extrañaba.

Mis ojos se llenaron de lágrimas al caer en la cuenta de que yo no había planeado esto cuando buscaba mudarme. Visitarnos implicaba despedirnos después, y me deshago un poco cada vez. Me es difícil evitarlo. ¿Es necesario que sea así? ¿Por qué me someto al sufrimiento?

Ese día se me desconfiguró todo. Y al preguntarme por qué, primero, no lo entiendo porque en el momento fue confuso, pero después descubro que todo surgió en el desencanto. En el desencuentro de la expectativa de juntarnos.

Ese finde estuvimos descoordinados. Encima de que llegaba tarde me demoré en avisar. Me molestó que no me comprendieras, pero yo te herí, más luego me sentí egoísta y me hallé culpable. Por eso comencé a cuestionarme todo.

Al hablar con vos días después, me doy cuenta que ambos estábamos molestos por no sentirnos especiales para el otro. A los dos nos invadía la sensación de que el otro no disponía lo suficiente en el encuentro, en la relación.

Charlando, charlando, las conversaciones se alternan con los momentos de introspección. La última conclusión, -fue- es que te amo. Nos amamos. Y nos une el deseo mutuo de seguir encontrándonos, descubriéndonos, explorándonos.

Creo que tenemos mucho para darnos. Y en mi caso, además, siento que a través de mi vínculo con vos me voy conociendo. Me ofrecés un espejo. Cuando me veo en él encuentro que hay aspectos de mí que necesito cambiar, y así deseo hacerlo. Te agradezco por la paciencia y por la oportunidad.

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Bratty!Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Tired of your antics regarding how cavalier you take your sexual relationship, your lieutenant cuts you off and that has you immediately plotting. You know you can get him to break and all it'll take is one purchase. How can he keep his resolve when he sees what you've bought? And how will he act when he catches you?

Word Count: 6.8 k

Warnings:

The office is silent now except for the distant sounds of movement filtering in from outside the door of people coming and going through the building. Your shirt clings in a rumpled mess to your body, sweat speckling across your limbs from that specific heat that gets shared between two bodies, euphoria still running through your veins when the man sitting beneath you speaks. “We’re not doin’ this again, so get that straight. Understand?”

You tilt your head to the side and raise a curious eyebrow, staring back into the face of your lieutenant as he gets you to your feet and grabs his shirt to throw it back over his head, covering his sweat-glistening torso. “Care to explain what you’re talking about or am I meant to just guess?” you ask with snark in your tone as you pick up the rest of your clothing off the floor.

Buttoning his pants and re-buckling his belt, he takes his time before answering as you finish and stand there impatient and agitated. “What the fuck did I say about startin’ stuff with me when I’m busy?” Lt. Riley questions back, his voice harsh. “Did ya think I was jokin’ or are ya just hell bent on gettin’ caught? Cause that’s what’s gonna fuckin’ happen if ya keep temptin’ me in the middle of the day.”

“You could turn me away,” you say with a roll of your eyes, “ever heard of self-control?”

Stepping up close to your body, the lieutenant grabs you by the chin and looks down his nose at you. “You’re too much of a distraction. And ya need to be taught a lesson, sweetheart; when I say somethin’ I fuckin’ mean it. Consider this my self-control.” 

“Oh, gonna punish me now?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest as you pull your face out of his grasp with a flick of your head. “Okay, go ahead. Let’s see what you got.”

“Ya ain’t gettin’ nothin’ from me til I can be sure you’re gonna listen. You’re cut off, sweetheart, and until ya can learn, we’re done with this.” 

You hold his gaze steadfast, not intimidated in the least. If he wants to play this game, then you’ll play it, but if he thinks this is going to end the way he wants, he is going to be sorely mistaken. “Fine.” You don’t argue, there is no sense to. “Have it your way, sir. Is that all?”

You’ll have it your way soon enough. All it’ll take is patience.

He doesn’t say anything, opting to sit back in the chair behind his desk without uttering another word. It is a gross miscalculation on Lt. Riley’s part not to immediately take your acceptance if his reprimand as a giant red flag, but if he isn’t willing to put his knowledge of your competitive temperament to use then that is fully on him; he is a big boy and since he wants to talk about consequences, then he should be ready to receive his own.

You double check yourself in silence before you leave his office with a smug sense of satisfaction, though a plan isn’t in mind just yet. It doesn’t matter really, the bigger they are the harder they fall and you are confident that you can make him fold with very little effort because despite being a man of mostly mystery, you know the intimate details of what makes that 6’4” military officer weak. 

The day isn’t even over before you already have a plan in mind and it all involves one very specific item. It’s a shame you have to order it, but the time it’ll take to come in the post will work in your favor. Lt. Riley needs time to cool off, to miss his pretty thing, to let his appetite for you get ravenous again.

Patience was never your virtue unless it came to getting something you wanted, so you bore your restlessness in silence as you waited for your order to come in. You give the lieutenant his space without a fuss, letting him believe his little delusion that at any moment you’ll come crawling back ready to obey him just as he wants.

A week passes and then nearly another when finally you are gifted with your prize that comes in the evening mail that Friday. You can taste the sweetness of your retribution already as you rip into the package and pull out the smallest, tightest pair of jet black hot pants with white trim. No more keeping this body for his eyes only; if he doesn’t want to give you the attention you desire then someone else will. 

You rush to your barracks the second the day comes to a close with your package in hand; you have only a short window of time to pull your entire plan together or you’ll be forced to wait till after the weekend and you are tired of waiting. Tonight is the night that you make your lieutenant come crawling back to you and stop with this nonsense.   

The tiny swath of fabric covering your ass barely hides a damned thing from view, hugging around your hips like they are painted on and resting at the very top of your thighs so that the underside of your butt peeks out from below the hem. There is a slit that goes up the side and it is doing its job in making your legs look extra long while also showing as much skin as possible. It leaves almost nothing to the imagination for anyone who happens to look your way… and boy do you want as many eyes on you as you can get.

Let’s see him be steadfast in his resolve to teach you a lesson now.

With a head full of devious thoughts, you leave your room and head out onto base and into the oncoming night. Shoulders back and head held high you walk past the buildings with confidence on the way to your first stop of the night: the officers building. You had checked the clock just before you left, it’s nearly time now. He’ll be leaving his office soon and you need him to catch sight of you on the way to your second destination: the rec center.

How lucky it is that the lieutenant is a man of routine and so giving it another minute or two you step out in front of the building and start heading directly for the rec, though at a slower pace than usual. And sure enough, when you’re still within eyeshot, you hear the front door to the building open. 

Stepping out into the cooler evening air, Lt. Riley looks up and his sight is captured by a figure moving just up ahead in the distance. People coming and going isn’t abnormal on a military base, but what really catches his attention is the familiarity of the body and the way that body is dressed. He is stunned in his tracks because you are barely wearing anything at all with shorts that look like they’ve been painted on. Paired with the tight black tank top you’ve chosen and you might as well be naked for all the covering it does. After a good almost two weeks of no action, the man is starved…but also curious as to where the fuck you are going dressed like this. 

The best thing would have been for the lieutenant to turn tail and walk away, leave it and you alone, but as smart as Lt. Riley is when it comes to temptation the man is a goddamn fool that cannot help himself.

You are a good bit ahead by the time he takes action and decides to follow you, but he keeps the pace as heat floods his body from staring at the back of you walking away, desperately wanting to take a bite out of all that juicy meat tempting his gaze as it bounces with each sure-footed step you take. Fuck, he is a sucker for all the plump, tender parts of your body and having them on display like this is a regular buffet that he can’t help but soak up even with his nosiness into what exactly has you looking so killer. 

Those auburn eyes of his continue to follow you as you come to the front of a building and enter. Now that you are out of view, he can think more clearly and he realizes that it’s the rec center that you’ve just entered. The closer the lieutenant gets, the more he catches raucous sounds of many voices braying like a pack of crazed hounds, making him quicken his steps that match his rising blood pressure until he stands just outside the doors to peer in without being detected yet.

Through the glass doors he can see towards the back of the main room that a group of privates surrounding the single government bought pool table with cues in hand are now circling you like wolves circling a wounded deer, practically begging you to join them for a few games while he knows that its only to get you to stay longer so that they can enjoy the view. It makes his blood boil to watch them ogle you like that, getting far too close to what isn’t theirs. 

…to what belongs to him.

Standing in silence, now cloaked in darkness as night has fallen, he watches angrily as a private gets bold enough to place his hand at the small of your back just as you lean over the table to make your first shot and suddenly he is seeing red. He can barely comprehend anything through the angry haze clouding his vision, but he can feel the cold steel of the door handle in his hand as he wrenches it open and stalks inside as if he is ready to kill.   

All eyes immediately drift towards the source of the sound. You look up through a giggle to see the form of the lieutenant standing there, sharp gaze boring straight into you specifically and the man who still has his hand on you. 

“What’s goin’ on ‘ere,” that deep voice booms through the small space to quiet the rowdy bunch.

“Is there a problem, sir?” one of the more brave privates speaks up.

His sight doesn’t leave you. “Seems we need to have a chat about propriety,” he growls. “This is a military base, not a fuckin’ strip club.” 

You smirk. “I don’t know what kind of strip clubs you frequent, sir, but I can assure you that this is more clothing than most will allow.”

A few of the privates snicker behind you, impressed with your audacity to backtalk someone as imposing as the skull-masked officer and that does nothing but add fuel to the fire.

“Come with me- now.” His voice is firm. 

A collective “ooooh” passes around the bunch that is quickly quelled with one harsh glare. “If I were ya I would get back to my fuckin’ game,” Lt. Riley barks. “Or would you lot rather be placed on permanent fire guard to drive the goddamn point home, since ya want to meddle in an officer’s business?”

His command is absolute and none of the privates have the balls enough to question it. Quickly they scramble back to their game, keeping their heads down and eyes locked to the table. Whatever trouble you are about to get in is none of their concern, not when being reprimanded by the imposing lieutenant is on the line.

Satisfied, those amber eyes snap right back to you. “Move, now,” he demands and points towards an area of the rec that is blocked off by a wall, essentially cutting the room in two and will give enough privacy that the others inside won’t be able to witness what is about to transpire. 

“Of course, sir,” you say in agreement without a syllable of dissention. 

Turning on your heels you take off in the direction pointed out to you, walking ahead of the masked officer eagerly. He’s mad; there is no need to turn around, you can feel his glare on you the entire walk over and it makes you smile. You’ve hit the nerve you had hoped to. Now to bring it all home and get your lover back the way you want. 

As soon as you make it behind the cover of the corner his hand is on your waist as he shoves you into the wall with brute force. Your back hits it and you let out a surprised gasp. He stands towering over top of you, a powerfully intimidating figure with a massive presence to match as he glares you down with fire in his gaze. 

“Can I fucking help you?” you ask as you quickly regain your composure.

Christ, when you want to get his attention you sure know how to do it. “What the fuck do ya think you’re doin’, hmm?” he questions back heatedly. “Puttin’ on a fuckin’ show for all the privates? Do ya fuckin’ think this appropriate, what ya got on?”

Something about having this conversation with the barrier of his balaclava covering his face infuriates you as if this was any other time he would have already had it off his face. “You think you can just treat me like everyone else after all we’ve done? Fuck you; take off the mask when you’re talking to me.”

His eyes narrow as he shakes his head side to side. “You don’t get to make demands a me anymore, princess.”

“Oh yeah?” you challenge back. “That what you think?”

Leaning in a bit closer, you can feel the heat of his breath even as it filters through the fabric. “That’s what I know. Now answer the question. Do ya think this is appropriate?”

Your shrug is nonchalant. “For field work? Well, it depends on the climate I suppose. That doesn’t really apply here does it, since we are still on base. Why? Do you have a problem with it?”

A sharp hiss of air exits rapidly out of his nose. “Like hell I do,” he says and suddenly you can make out the feel of his fingertips as they toy around with the fabric at the edge of your shorts. He lets them brush against your outer thigh as he follows the line of the hem up the slit that goes higher towards your hip. There is electricity in his touch and it makes your pulse start to race. “You're distracting my men. An outfit like this is askin’ for attention. Whose fuckin’ attention ya tryin’ to get, hmm?”

“Who said anything about attention?” you question him back as if you can’t possibly understand what all the fuss is about. “I just wanted to be comfortable. You know, unwind and all that after a long week.”

“Comfortable,” he scoffs as he rolls the fabric in between his fingers. “Ya barely have a god damned thing on.”

“Maybe that’s how I feel most comfortable,” you push, your reply a little more breathy. “You of all people should know that.” 

Oh you are walking on thin ice, lying to him like this. He is not that innocent that he can’t tell what you’re doing and you are not that naive to think that he won’t immediately figure it out. Harshly grabbing your chin, he holds your face firm in his grasp as his dark eyes shadowed within the confines of his mask stare back into your own. 

“Don’t ya lie to me, sweetheart,” he says, that gruff voice metered and unyielding in its severity. “The way ya were just eatin’ up how those boys reacted, I know ya didn’t fuckin’ dress like a slag for nothin’.”

“Are they not allowed to look, Simon?” you ask without missing a beat and using his name as if it’s a curse.

The question hangs in that air as Simon shifts in his stance while not saying a word, eyes narrowing as he realizes that there is no right way for him to answer that without giving himself away that he has dug himself into trouble.

A smug grin crosses your lips before you try to lick it away. “Ah, so that’s the problem right? That they were looking at me? Strange, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were… jealous. But that can’t be right, can it Simon? Because I thought I was cut off and that you were done, so it’s all fair game yeah? Unless there is something you want to fess up to?”

Simon’s chiseled jaw twitches under his mask as his eyes shimmer; you are pushing it, though why is he even surprised. “Ya better watch it, luv,” he warns under his breath as his grip along your chin tightens. “You are playin’ with fire and if ya ain’t careful, your pretty little fingers are gonna fuckin’ burn.” 

And before you are even made conscious of it, your mind immediately knows what to say in response. You hold his gaze steadfast in your own. “Make me.”

Those two little words and their variations are Simon’s kryptonite and you know it; that’s what got you on his cock in the first place. Nothing else can make that man go feral than a threat from a bratty bitch that puts him in the position to show them the consequences of what their cocky attitudes get them.  

You smirk, satisfied with how you seem to have the upper hand in this little confrontation. Simon is now in a place where he will either have to admit he still wants you and that his threat meant nothing or he will have to let you go… and you know by the rapid increase in the rise and fall of his chest the longer you stand between him and the wall that the latter is looking less and less likely. 

“Still waiting on your answer,” you say with a smug, satisfied grin spread across your lips, “or is it that if you say anything, it’ll make it clear that you are now regretting a certain… decision… you so hastily made?”

God, you know just how to rile him up in the exact way that both infuriates and entices him. His devil with a pretty face, his sin that feels like heaven; he is drawn to your stubbornness like a moth is drawn to a flame.

“Ya vicious little bitch,” he says, the words sharp. 

Gotcha, you think to yourself. You have that serious military officer right where you want him. Now all you have to do is go in for the kill. You take a step into him even with your chin still secure in his grasp. “Oh yeah,” you respond, your voice husky. “As if you don’t fucking love it.”

You are met with only silence as a shiver runs straight through him. He’s barely able to react in time to hide its presence, but grits his teeth hard and stifles any movement other than the rapid breaths he continues to take. 

“Cat got your tongue?” you ask and wait for a response that doesn’t come; you don’t expect it to. “That’s what I thought. So, here’s how it’s going to work: I’m gonna wear what I want, when I want, and if you don’t like how others react to my wardrobe then that’s on you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I got a game to return to.” 

Pulling your head back forcefully out of his grip, his strong, rough fingers release your chin and he watches as you make your move to step past him, but he can’t let this go like he had originally planned. This is the game you both play and he just can’t quit you. You are his, his, and he isn’t going to just let you forget that. You barely take the first few steps around him headed back the way you came when you hear Simon mutter under his breath. 

“Fuck,” the sigh hits your ears before his arm jettisons out and grabs you by the wrist. 

Your body is spun around and pulled into him, your back flush against his warm chest as he leans himself back against the wall. His hand shoots up to cover over your mouth, cupping across your cheeks to stifle any sound that may come from the shock of his action. Sure enough you gasp into his palm as he straps you to his chest by locking you in place with his other arm. 

“You’re not goin’ anywhere, princess,” he grunts lowly into your ear. 

Stoic and silent he pushes a knee up through the gap in your legs to widen them before his hand slinks down your abdomen, over your pants, and comes to rest against your sex. That large palm now nestled in between your thighs presses up into you and it only takes a few seconds for Simon to realize that he can feel the lips of your pussy straight through the thin fabric of your pants without any barrier. No panties, really?

You fucking witch. You planned this, didn’t you?

There are still soldiers hanging about, out of sight for the moment, but still not something that is conducive for such an encounter. He wouldn’t risk something like this…would he? What you think is going to be a quick touch and pull back turns into his hand locking to your pussy as he begins to massage it through your pants. He pushes his fingers up through the cloth until he can feel the outline of your clit on his fingertips.

A quiet chuckle falls from your lips behind his handmade muzzle as his fingers make contact with the crotch of your shorts and you feel his chest jerk as he struggles to catch his breath. Feel something you like, lieutenant? you think as the corners of your mouth upturn against his skin. 

A moan barely squeaks out from around his hand before he presses it harder against your lips. “Don’t need someone catchin’ us, do we? Not til I’m finished with ya.”

Those heated words cause your heart to race violently, thudding strong against your ribcage to match a certain throbbing growing in strength between your thighs. 

“You gonna keep quiet?” he asks and you nod in his hand. “Don’t make me regret it or else, princess.”

Simon removes his palm and wraps his arms around your waist; you’re not going anywhere. “We could still get caught, you know,” you say softly, stumbling over your words as his fingers continue to play.

“Ya should've thought of that before ya tempted me with this fuckin’ skin, luv,” he murmurs against the side of your head. There is no way in hell you are getting out of these shorts without him fucking you out of them, he will stop only when he can feel a wet spot soaking through the crotch. “ ‘Sides, maybe I want that prick that had his fuckin’ hands on ya ta see that he doesn’t stand a chance.” 

He won’t, he has never been the type to share but the threat serves its purpose. The boys at the pool table continue to distract themselves, but who knows how long that will last. If they come creeping over, there is no way they won’t instantly know what is happening. And yet over and over his large fingers grind against your clit until it begins to ache. 

“Gimme your hand,” he searches for the appendage, only to be met with resistance once he locates it. 

“I said give,” he reiterates the point in that more authoritative tone he is used to using with his men.

You shake your head that still rests in his grasp; you don’t want to make this easy for him. If he wants something he is going to have to work for it. Encapsulating your wrist in his hand, the muscles along his forearm strain as he drags your arm up from your side. He takes your hand firmly in his, fingers lacing themselves over the top of your own as he descends them both down the front of your body and slips them into the waistband of your shorts. No time is wasted in bringing them directly between your legs, parting through your warm, soft lips, and nestling both sets of fingers inside. 

“Gonna need ya ta participate in this part,” he says, low and bassey at the side of your face. “You’re fuckin’ achin’ bad, aren’t ya? Christ luv, I can already feel how swollen your clit is.”

Simon keeps your conjoined fingers resting up against that tiny bundle of nerves. There is a tension-filled pause as he takes a deep, labored breath as the end of his thought hangs anxiously in the air, waiting for him to finish it. His lips are right at the threshold of your earlobe, you can feel their presence as they ghost near the tender flesh, the skin tingling as his warm breath wafts over the area.

You suddenly realize the lack of oxygen filling your lungs as he finally speaks. “Let’s make it worse,” he growls. 

A shiver snakes through your spine as he forces your fingers to work in tandem with his in rolling circles over your sensitive clit, stroking again and again in a steady rhythm that he has set. 

“Best hope they decide to leave soon, sweetheart,” he breathes the words into your ear as he rests his forehead against your temple. “Cause if ya want me to let ya fuckin’ come, they’re gonna have to be gone. Until then we’re just gonna have to keep ya wet and fuckin’ ready.”

His phallus pulses against your ass through his pants, bobbing with his racing heartbeat as it prods into the cheek of your ass. A struggled, shaky breath escapes your lips as he moves his hips to press it into you; your sanity is hanging on by a thread. All you want is for him to bend you over, rip your shorts down, and thrust inside, but no matter how much you rub against it he does not take the bait.

Time passes so much slower as you stay strapped to him, his hand and yours shoved down the front of your shorts keeping you wet. Your sanity is beginning to wane; no one should be expected to keep it together when a lover who knows your body like the back of his hand is using everything to his advantage to keep you aching.

Pressure gathering in the pit of your stomach only to dissipate before it can ever come to fruition, over and over Simon brings you to the brink only to back off once you get close enough. It feels like eternity in the haze of his capable fingers working your body before the men finally decide that they have had enough with standing around the quiet center when the local bar is just a short drive down the road and head out, completely forgetting that they haven’t seen either you or the lieutenant for quite some time, but they also haven’t seen either of you leave. 

The moment the door shuts and the last sounds of talking can be heard drifting off into the distance, you are released and again turned only to be shoved back against the wall. Simon is immediately pressed against you, one knee collapsing into the wall between your legs as your hands greedily claw at the cloth gathered at base of his neck, fingers pulling up the bottom of his mask without hindrance so that they can get underneath it and push it up to expose his hungry mouth. A devilish, toothy grin waits to meet you as the fabric is removed; he’s proud of the desperation he has left you in. 

“They’re gone,” you say with a heavy bit of neediness. “I did what you said.” 

“Ya want me ta give it to ya now, that it?” he asks with a smug sense of self satisfaction. 

“You promised,” you shoot back, the agony of waiting becoming unbearable the longer he takes. 

His face inches in closer to yours, hot breath meeting and wafting over the skin on your lips as he exhales. “Ya think this is gonna be some sorta reward?” he asks, his voice lowering into the deeper part of his register, that gravely vibrato that turns your legs into jelly just from the sound.  

Those full lips of his ghost over your own, making the skin quiver from the proximity. Your mouth parts open as suddenly you feel like you can’t get enough air while waiting in misery for him to break and crash on you with all of his desire. A breathy gasp escapes through the gap as that thick thigh of his presses up into your pussy. He has you right where he wants you now.  

“Ya still got a fuckin’ lesson ta learn, princess,” he says. “So, I’m gonna have ta fuck the attitude til it comes drippin’ right out of ya.” 

And with that he leans down and forcefully connects your lips together so that your head hits the wall behind you. Fiery and aggressive he embraces your mouth again and again, lips fighting for dominance with each new connection. Breath and spit are shared as the wet smacking sounds of skin on skin hits the air and fills up the quiet of the place. 

You haven’t gotten your fill yet, but suddenly you find your body being lifted into the air and carelessly flung over one of his broad shoulders as he drags you back into the middle of the room. He eyes his destination the moment it comes into view from around the wall and quickly makes his way over to it; somewhere he can put you so he can get to work.

Your backside makes contact with the smooth felt of the pool table as Simon sets you down on top of it. The cool surface of the rails raises goosebumps on the back of your thighs as he situates you right at the edge. No longer pressed together, a spot of cold radiates from his thigh and he looks down to see a present you have left for him right on the fabric.

“Look what ya did,” he growls, pointing to the obviously darker patch on the inner thigh of his jeans. “Made a fuckin’ mess.”

“Whose…ng…fucking fault is that?” you whimper, adjusting yourself as every little movement puts pressure on your aching clit. 

“And I’d do it again ta keep my brat in line,” he smirks as his irises sparkle like a predator locking on to its prey. “Now, open your fuckin’ legs.”

You widen the gap between your thighs more, but he still has to use his hips to shove them open enough that he can fit in until he is right up against you. The sharp edge of his teeth cuts into the plump flesh of your bottom lip as he sucks it into his mouth to give it a hard nip. He swallows down the harsh groan you produce at his delicious brand of roughness like it’s honey. Every single sound you make in response to his actions is music to his ears. 

“Need ya ta know this type a shit isn’t gonna fly with me.”

Fingertips play around the perimeter of your cunt until he hooks them through the cool, damp crotch of your pants and wrenches them to the side to expose your entrance. “Let’s ruin these fuckin’ things,” he smugly says as he works with one hand to undo his pants and slide both that and his boxers down his thighs until his cock pops out of the waistband and stands hard and throbbing for you. “Don’t ever wanna see these goddamn things again after tonight.”

His vice-like grip on the crotch of your shorts causes a few of the overly taut threads to snap as he holds the fabric out of his way to align the swollen head of his cock with that dripping, aching hole he’s been working so that it’s already ready to take him in. You can feel the tip of his hard girth push against the moist skin before he bucks his hips and it strains through the barrier. His grip moves to your waist to force your body further down on him as you whine, the stretch overwhelming, but divine. 

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it, princess? Why you wore these tight fuckin’ things, yeah? Ya tryin’ ta make me take ya like an animal?” he grunts, the feel of your tight, silky walls fluttering around his cock as he fills you full threatening to send him straight to hell. 

“The moment I saw ya in ‘em I thought I was gonna lose control. Been a while since I had ya. That on purpose too?”   

You fall backward against the table, your back arching up off it and your eyes roll back into your head as he pulls you down while slamming the length of his phallus up into you until he reaches the base. He doesn’t give you a moment to gather your sanity and instead snaps his hips into you, the intensity in each stroke causing your body to jolt over the felted surface. 

“Look at me,” he grunts as he reaches out to grab at your chin and pull you back up to him, “look - at - me.”

You’re unable to deny him when he’s thrusting so deep and your eyes open to meet his gaze again. “You’re mine, ya hear?” he breathes the words desperate and firm. “Nobody else can look at ya like this, got it? Nobody.”

His breath hitches a moment as a shudder runs through his cock from the way you tighten around it. “Those boys out there mighta gotten a show tonight, but that’s the last they’ll ever get,” he growls more intensely. “Don’t even want ‘em to think they have a fuckin’ chance wit ya cause you belong ta me. You were made for me, princess. Only me.”

Harder and harder he pounds into your pussy with a need that feels like it cannot be quenched no matter how deep he goes. “And nobody else - nobody else- ya don’t need anyone else ‘sides me. Say it.” 

A pathetic whimper is all he gets in response as his cock digs in deep, but that isn’t good enough. You’re gonna do exactly as he says and repeat it - out loud. His grip around your face tightens.

“Say it,” he demands again. 

“Don’t… need a-anyone…else…” you stammer out as it is a struggle now to speak. 

Then you hear it, the distinct sound of fabric beginning to rip. The seam along the crotch has had too much strain put on it and it is starting to give, threads ripping more steadily the harder Simon thrusts. God, that sound is the catalyst to you suddenly feeling wild, like all you want him to do is shred the fucking things off of you by screwing you out of them. It’s at that moment that familiar warmth begins to gather in your belly. It won’t be long now and you’ll be spilling.

“Say: you’re the only one I fuckin’ want,” he insists as he clenches to make his cock pulse inside of you.

Simon’s wide hand slides down from your chin to just at the base of your throat where he wraps it around and gives it a light squeeze for emphasis. The pressure feels like heaven amongst all the stimulation and trying to keep your eyes on him and speak at the same time is nearly impossible, but find your words soon enough.

You lick your parched lips. “You’re the only one I want, Simon,” you moan.

“Again.”

“You’re the only one I will ever want, Simon.”

Another couple of desperately strong thrusts. “And you’re gonna listen from now on, yeah?”

“Yes!” you blurt out.

He pulls you by the throat so that you meet him in a kiss as his hips never stop snapping into you. “Such a fuckin’ obedient girl for me,” he groans against your mouth as he breaks free from it. “Now, let’s make ya come so ya never fuckin’ forget who it is that ya belong to.”

Releasing your neck, Simon brings his hand down, parting through your dripping lips to find your clit so that he can rub over it as he thrusts. There is not much more you can take now; all his work before has done its job to perfection and your body is falling apart so rapidly it feels like the nosedive off that first ddrop of a rollercoaster. 

“G-gonna… gonna come, baby,” you stammer out. You bring your lips in closer to his, desperate to kiss him again, but the pleasure is just too much to handle that you devolve into simply panting instead. 

He inhales in ragged breaths the sweet air from your mouth, his teeth grinding together the harder he thrusts. All those days without you have been frustrating as he waited for you to come crawling back. He missed the feeling of you wrapped around him and right now he needs you to come on his cock. 

But this isn’t going to teach you what he wants. Pulling out amidst your whined protests, he pulls you off the table onto your feet and spins you around before pushing your upper body down while guiding you to spread your stance wider and ripping the crotch of your pants aside again, this time he doesn’t hesitate to enter you.

From this angle the penetration is even deeper and as his finger finds that tiny bud of nerve endings again, you are right back where you want to be - a mess ready to explode.   

“Come for me.” He is demanding while trying to hold it all together. “Now.”

Harder and harder he pushes, thrusting and stroking, and like the flick of a switch all that heat and all that pressure culminates in an explosion that has you crying out loudly as you come with force, your back arching to pull you away from his grasp. Waves wash through your body as the intensity of your orgasm shakes through you until your legs are vibrating around his hips. 

The moment you cry out he allows himself to let go, finally finished with his task, and fucking you through your orgasm he comes so hard that he has to grab the sides of the pool table to keep himself upright. Grunting like an animal he coats your walls and thrusts his cum continuously back up into you until he is spent and cannot go another second. 

Simon stays inside as you both come back down from that exhilarating high, two glistening bodies conjoined at the forehead with eyes closed until he has enough strength to pull his sensitive cock carefully out of you. Both of your mixed juices follow his cock out, dribbling out of your entrance to collect in the crotch of your pants as they snap back into place now that there is nothing keeping them pushed aside. 

You flip yourself back over and lean against the edge of the table to look down at what’s left of your shorts. They are completely soaked, drenched in so much of your juices that they look wet. The ruined fabric clings to your body as if it’s glued on and you are left feeling cold down there as Simon pulls away.

“That’s better,” he says with satisfaction as he studies his handiwork of the ripped, saturated fabric. “And so is this.”

A more gentle kiss is placed on your lips this time, one in praise of you doing so well for him. You reciprocate the feeling by cupping his face in your hands.

“And we’re not gonna have any more a this, right?” he asks as he pulls from your mouth.

Looking into his eyes, a subtle smirk contours your lips. “We’ll see,” you say as Simon shakes his head.

He wouldn’t expect anything less.

“So,” you continue, “I’m just wondering if you thought about how I’m going to leave here, now that I look like this. Gonna need something so I don’t have to cross base.” 

Across the way he spots a random jacket hanging off the back of a chair, left by one of the privates no doubt. Looks big enough and he returns with it in hand. Carefully he circles the sleeves around your body and ties them in front to cover you until you can get back to your room and change. Don’t need anyone seeing anything they shouldn’t.

“I did really like these by the way,” you pick as Simon pulls you by the knot in the sleeves wrapped around your waist back into him to catch your lips one last time with his.  

“Don’t ya worry, sweetheart, I’m gonna be gettin’ you a new pair, ones that I chose,” he says. “Cause I’m gonna be the only one that gets to enjoy this fuckin’ view from now on. And it’s a view you’re gonna give me ‘gain and again, darlin’.”

[slashers-gf]

I'm here for you... pt1

I don't know it this is good or not. Sorry for any misspelling. I was trying to write this quickly 😭 Might make a part 2 of this. Hope you enjoy 🫶

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Kenji Sato x reader

Word count: 3k

Summery: You and kenji are childhood best friends. Kenji hasn't been answering you for several days, and you start to get worried. You go to a good place to see what's happening to him and to try and help him.

"Damn it, kenji, why haven't you been answering me? It's been several days since you're not answering my texts or calls." I've been trying to contact kenji for days and nothing. Today was the day I was going to go confront him.  I got to the car and made my way to his house.

**Meanwhile with Kenji**

"Please go to sleep emi '' trying to rock emi to sleep.  "She's fussy,"  Mina says, looking at what's happening. "Oh really, i didn't notice," kenji said sarcastically. 

The baby kaiju seems to be finally settling down.  "Ah finally" seeing as it's starting to close her eyes and breathing slowed down.  

"It appears y/n has arrived and is outsode right now," showing security camera. "Damn it, why she her right now. What am i going to do about Emi? She already knows that im Ultraman. "  Looks at the sleeping kaiju and puts her back into the glass cylinder unit. "Mina, i need you to take care of Emi and hide her."  Mina follows the order and hides emi and watches over her.

"Hey, open the damn door," states to bang on the door till someone opens it. Kenji grumbled to himself before heading towards the door and opening it, leaning his muscular frame against the door frame.

"What do you want?" Kenji crossed his arms, not too pleased by your sudden presence.

"Why have you been ignoring me? I've called and texted." Stats to get angry by his attitude. Kenji avoided eye-contact and looked at everything in the room except you.

"I've been busy,"  He answered. It was a shitty excuse, but the truth. Just a lie to hide the truth. 

"Oh, busy is that it" gets more annoyed.  Kenji rolled his eyes and looked away from you once more. "Obviously."  His tone was cold and sharp. It was different from how he usually spoke to you. He was usually quite gentle and cheerful, but this attitude was the complete opposite. It was as if he was purposely trying to push you away... but why? 

"Tell me the truth, what's happening?"  Kenji sighed and gripped onto the door frame, his body language was closed off, guarded...as if he was trying to hide something 

"I told you, I'm busy,"  He said firmly, his eyes darkening. He was clearly agitated at the fact that you were questioning him.  "That's not it, and I know it,"  seeing how he is being suspicious.

  Kenji grit his teeth together and gripped the frame of the door so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He looked away again and spoke in an annoyed tone.  "Why are you so pushy about knowing everything? Huh? Just drop it and piss off already"

" Because I know when you're lying, so tell me what's wrong."  See how he was acting, and I started to get concerned about him. Kenji snapped, and the irritation that he had been pushing down had finally boiled over. He stepped forward and locked eyes with you, his voice raising*

"No! Okay!? I don't want to tell you or anyone anything and I don't plan to! Just piss off!" 

"What the hell is your problem?"  I started to raise my voice.  Kenji ran a hand down his face in frustration, scoffing. "My problem is you! You just can't seem to take a damn hint and leave!" 

"Are you fucking kidding me right now. I come here because I'm worried about you and your just going to act like a piece of shit "

Kenji's eyes darkened, and a cold, bitter laugh slipped past his lips. "You're worried about me, huh? Sure, as hell doesn't seem like it! You've been nagging me this whole time to open up like I'm some sort of sob story that needs saving!"

"Well I am fucking worried, I always have been. I'm your best friend and I'm just trying to understand and help you" lowers voice and gets hurt by what he has just said. 

Kenji's shoulders slumped, and he leaned against the door frame again. He looked tired, beyond exhausted mentally and physically. His voice was quiet and bitter.

"Well...you don't need to, okay? I'm fine..Everything's fine" he said, sighing. 

"Wow, you really are just childish and only care about yourself and not others about you? " turns about and starts to walk towards my car.

Kenji froze, his heart hammering in his chest. Why did what you said hurt so badly? He bit back the tears that began to well up in his eyes, his vision going blurry. He had been pushing you away and yet here he was on the verge of tears. He cursed under his breath, clenching a fist and quickly turned around, grabbing your wrist and yanking you back towards him. "Where are you going!?"

"Home clearly since you don't need my help with anything ."  Trying to break away from his grip. Kenji's grip on your wrist tightened as he held you firmly in place, preventing you from leaving. He hated this feeling and hated how his heart ached in his chest. Damn it...why did he feel so vulnerable around you... "Just..just stay" He said quietly

"Why? why should I if you are just going to keep lying to me over and over again? " turning back to look him in the face. 

Kenji groaned and let go of your wrist, running a hand through his raven hair as he avoided eye contact once more. He bit his bottom lip and looked off to the side, contemplating on answering your question.

"I'm not lying.."  He said in a quiet whisper. He was lying. He hadn't told you everything.. but in his heart, is that really lying?  "I just..." *He closed his eyes and let out a deep exhale  "I just don't want you to worry..." 

"I'm here for you, and I've always been since I was a kid. But I don't want to  watch you like this and treat me like shit, " I said, looking at his face. 

Kenji flinched, his eyes snapping open. He winced at your words, his heart panging once more and his stomach twisting into knots. He hated this.. Why couldn't you just listen to him and leave him alone? He didn't want you to witness his breakdown, his pain, his struggle. He was supposed to be strong... to be the one that people look up to. A broken hero.. but could he really say that?

Kenji cursed once more, grabbing your sleeve and pulling you away from the door and into the apartment. 

"Hey, let go of me," trying to get out of his grasp.  Kenji ignored your protests and tugged you into the apartment further, closing the door behind you and shutting the world outside behind him. He finally let go of you and stepped away. 

"No! You wanted to come here and now you're here. You're not leaving until you listen to me!" 

"Why should I if you are not going to tell me what's really wrong and not want my help?" Looking at kenji to see what his reaction is. Kenji clenched his fists tightly, his body growing tense. He knew you were right, and he knew he had no right to be mad at you... yet there was an anger that was welling up in his chest. His jaw clenched. "I don’t need your pity, okay?! Stop acting like I need your damn help!" He said, raising his voice.

"So you're just not going to tell me anything then?" I said as Kenji closed his eyes and sighed, his shoulders slumping once more. He looked defeated. As much as he tried to keep up the tough act, he just couldn’t. He was exhausted and tired..he just didn’t know how to explain everything to you without burdening you further.

"Look...it's not that I don’t want to tell you anything..it's just..”  He couldn’t look you in the eye, choosing to look down at the ground instead 

"Go on" I said, wanting him to continue on with what he was saying. Kenji’s jaw clenched, his fingers tapping against his leg anxiously.

 Where did he even start? He thought. He closed his eyes and opened them again, staring straight into yours “Promise me you won’t say anything…to anyone, alright?:

"Yes, of course I already know your ultraman, and I haven't told anyone," getting concerned about what he was going to say to me. Kenji relaxed slightly. He had to admit he did feel relief in the fact that you already knew. He crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing. “I’m assuming you want the reason as to why I’ve been distant..correct?” Kenji sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was getting a headache, and he hadn’t even started yet.. “It’ll be hard to explain, hell you might not even believe me but…”  He trailed off and sat down on the couch, motioning for you to do the same. 

I followed and sat next to him on the couch. "Kenji, you know that you can tell me anything, right?" Looking at his expression. Kenji nodded, staring down at his now clenched fists resting on his lap. He felt vulnerable, vulnerable, and terrified. Scared of what you’d think.  “I know, I know.. just..”  He swallowed his saliva, his throat suddenly feeling very dry  “Just listen, ok?” 

"Yes, of course I'll listen to whatever you say." Seeing how he was reacting, I know something major was happening to his life. Kenji breathed in slowly before exhaling. He knew he had to say it. He had no choice but to spit it out. It was better if you heard it from him rather than later.  “The reason…”  He swallowed nervously once more. “The reason I’ve been closed off and distant with you…is because I don't want you to hate me." His voice began to tremble. 

"Kenji, I would never take you no matter what happens." Seeing him like this broke my heart, knowing he was suffering, and i wasn't there to console him. Kenji shut his eyes even tighter, his body trembling as he fought the tears that welled up behind his eyelids. God, he was so pathetic. He was on the verge of tears again, and this time, his resolve finally broke. The dam of tears broke and poured down his cheeks like a waterfall as he choked out a broken response. “You’d say that now…but you won’t when you find out the truth..”

I look at Kenji and grab his hand. Kenji’s lip quivered as he felt your hand grab his, the touch of your skin against his was suddenly too much for him. He looked at you with tears streaming down his cheeks, his eyes red and puffy. “Damnit..”  He muttered, using his other hand to wipe away tears, but they just kept coming.. he hated how damn emotional he felt, and yet at the same time, it felt like a relief in a way.. 

"Kenji, I'm going to be here for you no matter what, so tell me so I can understand and help you, kenji."  Kenji’s heart twisted. Your words only made him feel guilty. He didn’t deserve the kindness you were giving to him, but yet here you were. Willing to listen to his story. He looked down at your hand that was holding his and gently squeezed it, enjoying the feeling of your hand in his. He swallowed hard and nodded, knowing he didn’t have a choice. He had to say it.. “Okay..okay you wanna know the truth?”

Kenji took a deep breath. This was it. There was no turning back now. He gently pulled his hand away from yours and ran a hand through his raven hair. His voice went quiet, and it was shaky as he spoke. “Please..promise me that you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you. This can’t leave this room..” 

"Yes, of course I promise kenji," giving his hand a squeeze to comfort him.  Kenji closed his eyes and slowly took another breath, steeling himself to say what he knew would change everything. He clenched the couch in his fists, the soft material of the couch bunched up beneath his strong hands “Okay..here it goes…” Kenji’s chest tightened, and his heart raced. He swallowed once more before he spoke, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. “My mom.. passed away a couple of years ago..”

I stay quiet and just listen to him and what he has to say. Kenji’s eyes began to water as he recalled the memory of losing his mother. It had left a permanent scar in his heart, one that he knew would never heal. He cursed silently under his breath, squeezing the fabric of his jeans. " She was the most important person in my life. My rock..so when I lost her, it hurt like hell. And the pain didn’t go away..not even to this day..”  

" I know how hard it can be on you. You loved her very much, and she loved you, but she wouldn't want to see you crying like this. "  Kenji knew you were right. Every word you said was right. His mama wouldn’t want to see him this wreck. That was for certain, but he couldn’t help it. The pain was too damn much, and as much as he hated to admit it, he had finally reached his limit...“Why, why did she have to pass away? I just don’t understand..” He whispered, his voice cracking as he looked down at the floor, fresh tears falling down his face.

" Sometimes life doesn't go the way everyone wants it. There are going to be times when you just want to disappear from this world. But you know it's not your fault or anyone's. She loved you very much more than you think. It's okay to feel like this. You are human, too. You don't need to act strong just because you are ultraman. "  Kenji nodded, listening to your words. Sometimes, he was so used to acting tough and strong that he forgot he was just a regular person with emotions. He felt silly having a miniature breakdown, but at the same time, he felt relieved. After all, he hadn’t shared this pain with anyone before..

 He swallowed hard, looking down at his lap “I know..it’s just sometimes the pain gets too much, and I wonder why it had to happen to me. I miss her so much. Some days, I'm feel like I’m going to go crazy..”

"I know you do. I miss her, and she was like a second mom to me. Remember when she would have those game days when we were little, and she would cheer for you." Recalling those memories that we had shared together with his mom.  Kenji chuckled as the memories came flooding back. The game days, they were always his favorite…he couldn’t believe you remembered them too. He smiled warmly, his dark eyes gleaming with sadness.

“Yea I remember…we would get so rowdy that sometimes it would get out of hand, and we’d get in trouble. I swear I’ll never forget that time when we both broke the vase…and mom yelled at us like hell..”

"You have many fun and happy memories with her. She always wanted you to be happy."  Kenji nodded, the corners of his mouth curving into a small smile. There were many happy memories, and he had to admit that. His mind began to recall one after another.. their laughs, their games, their fun days…but as quickly as those happy memories came, the pain came rushing back.  “I know.. I know she wanted me to be happy, but hell. It’s just so damn hard without her..”

"It's okay to feel like that, but you can't just push everyone that cares about you away," I said, looking at him and how he was quiet. Kenji stayed silent, his eyes downcast once more. Deep down, he knew it was true. Every word you said was true. But he didn’t know why he was so scared of accepting it. The thought of losing someone again, the thought of losing you.. “You’re right..but look where it gets me..I’m just a wreck..”

"I'm here for you to lean on me," I said, knowing that no matter what, I was going to stay by his side.  Kenji looked up at you once more, his jaw tensing. A part of him wanted to keep pushing you away and hide his vulnerability away.. but the other part just wanted to pull you into his arms and not let go. “Why? Why are you still here? Why are you still bothering me..? I’ve been nothing but a jerk to you..” 

"I don't know, I've been with you my whole life. You're someone precious to me, and I don't want that precious someone to suffer in front of me, " I said, smiling at him.   Kenji’s lip trembled, your words of kindness overwhelming him. He had a feeling you’d say something cheesy like that..yet at the same time, it was just the truth. You stuck by his side through everything, and he realized how many times he probably took your friendship for granted.. “Damnit..”  He muttered quietly, looking off to the side. “You’re far too nice for your own good, you know that?” 

"Really!? I think I'm just doing the right thing. " I said while laughing.  Kenji rolled his eyes and managed a small laugh in response to yours. Your optimism always got the best of him, even in the darkest of times. But deep down, he felt grateful. I am grateful that you hadn’t given up on him, even when he had pushed you away. “Yea yea you’re always right like the smartass you are..”  He said, shoving your shoulder lightly. 

"Don't call me that," I said while flicking his for heard with my finger.  Kenji flinched when you flicked his forehead, rubbing the spot and pouting at you. He huffed and folded his arms across his chest, scowling at you. "Ow damn’t..” He grumbled, his lips twitching in an almost smile* “Oh come on, you know you love me calling you that." I slightly blushed at this but looked the other way so he couldn't see. 

"Ya ya, whatever, so are you going to keep pushing me away?" I asked, looking at him for a reply. *Kenji stayed quiet for a few moments, his mind racing as he tried to come up with some snarky retort, but the words got lost somewhere in his throat. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, admitting his defeat* 

“No, No I’m not going to keep pushing you away..”  He said, his voice quiet. “It was stupid of me, anyway. You’re right, I’ve been a jerk and I’m sorry..”  He looks down at his lap. "Wow, the infamous kenji Sato said sorry to sorry one," I said, smirking. *Kenji rolled his eyes and huffed, smacking your shoulder this time* 

“You’re lucky I’m being nice right now, or I’d knock that smirk right off your face..”  He scowled half-heartedly, his dark eyes flickering with a hint of amusement. Despite his rough exterior, the truth was that he really missed this. Missed being around you like this...

"So are you going to tell me why you smell like fish and barf?" I said, looking at him up and down.  Kenji froze in shock. 

“Ah crap..”

To be continued...

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 29 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Your hormones are raging to the point of distraction, but Bradley channels that energy toward a purpose: christening the new Bronco. When the two of you attend Mickey's birthday kegger, Bradley realizes everything would be easier if his friends knew you were pregnant. Hopefully the first visit with your new doctor will set your minds at ease instead of making you more anxious.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, pregnancy, angst, fluff

Length: 6000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

You woke up to your alarm for work on Friday morning, groggy and nauseous with a growling stomach. "Roo?" you asked, popping up in bed when you realized he wasn't there. The house was silent. His spot in the bed was cold. You groaned and rolled over to grab your glasses. You needed to eat something immediately or the vomiting was going to start.

Still wearing your underwear and shirt from last night, you shuffled to the kitchen and downed a full glass of water and the plate of peanut butter crackers Bradley left out for you. "Roo?" you asked between bites. You opened the sliding glass door, but he wasn't in the backyard. When you turned toward the front door to see if the Bronco was here, something caught your eye through the front window. "What the hell?"

You grabbed the throw blanket from the couch and wrapped it around yourself as you shoved the last cracker into your mouth. When you opened the front door, you saw your husband and your dog in the driveway. Bradley had moved the Bronco to the street, and he was wearing gym clothes and hosing down the cement slab. 

"What is going on?" you called out, squinting against the early morning sunlight as he waved to you. "What are you doing?"

Bradley was smiling brightly as he dropped the hose next to the industrial sized broom and started running toward you. "You have to hear it, Sweetheart." He was fumbling with his phone. "The most beautiful words." He thrust the phone in front of you as a voicemail message started to play.

"Hi, Bradley, this is Terry from the Ford dealership. I'm just calling to let you know your new Bronco is here."

You groaned as he bounced on the balls of his feet, and Tramp wandered past your legs and back inside. "I still don't understand why you have the hose and broom out...? Are you cleaning the driveway? For the new Bronco?"

"Yes," he replied as if he was talking to a very small child. "I wouldn't want to bring it home to a mess. I want it to feel welcome."

You closed your eyes as he put his phone away and let his palm come to rest against your belly. "It's barely even light out, and you're cleaning the driveway for our new car to feel welcome."

"It's not just a car, Baby Girl. It's a Bronco. And I was too excited to sleep."

You opened your eyes and kissed him before you shook your head. "I can't imagine how you'll be when we start shopping for baby stuff."

His brown eyes lit up as he rubbed your belly. "As soon as you give me the green light, I'm ready to go. I can't wait to decorate the nursery. And I really think we should talk about getting a contractor to work on the attic."

You held up one of your hands, trying to keep the blanket wrapped around you. "Can we just do one thing at a time, Roo? When are we picking up the Bronco?"

He kissed your cheek and moaned. "I knew you were as excited as I am. We can go right from work later today."

"Okay," you agreed with a shrug before shuffling back inside and leaving him to finish cleaning the driveway.

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

It was Friday, Bradley's wife was pregnant, he was about to pick up his new Bronco, and everything was perfect. A little too perfect. He tapped on your office door as soon as he got out of his afternoon lecture, and when you opened it, you looked upset.

"What's wrong?" he asked, ducking inisde with you and closing the door. He cupped your face in his hands and stroked your cheek. "What is it, Sweetheart?"

You let out a needy moan and then licked your lips. "I am so fucking horny."

Well. At least that was better than there being something wrong that he couldn't take care of. You turned your head slightly and took his thumb between your lips, and Bradley grunted. "Holy shit. You're not kidding." He was met with another soft moan and your fingers on the fly of his khakis while you sucked. He had to grab you to make you stop before you had your hand down his pants. "Okay," he whispered. "Here's what we're about to do, alright?"

You nodded, looking up at him like you trusted him completely as he removed his thumb. "Tell me."

"If you're ready to leave, we'll stop and pick up Bronco number two and drive them both home, and then I'll do whatever you need, okay?"

You sucked in a deep breath, and your voice shook. "Okay."

Bradley carried your work bag for you, and when it was just the two of you in the elevator, he wasn't sure how you managed to make it through the day. You were a mess. You had him pinned to the wall, one hand at the back of his neck, the other resting on his abs, and you were kissing him like you would at home in bed. 

He wanted this. Badly. Your tongue stroked against his as you traced his scars with your fingertips. Every little gasp and sound you made went right for his cock. "I need it so bad," you whispered, pressing your lips to his mustache. "God, Roo."

"Fuck," he groaned as the elevator started to slow. "I'd take you right here if I could."

You were whimpering as the doors slid open revealing Maverick. Bradley desperately tried to move your hands to more suitable places on his body, but you just pressed your cheek to his chest and smiled as you said, "Hey, Captain Mitchell."

He smirked and replied, "Lieutenant Commanders."

"Sir?" Bradley croaked, taking both of your hands in his and pulling you out of the elevator. 

Maverick shook his head, and Bradley expected that he would get a text this weekend, but he'd deal with that later. Hand in hand, you and he ran toward the Bronco, and he quickly got you inside and buckled your seatbelt. But you lured him in for more kisses with your fingers in his hair. 

"You taste so good," you whined, licking his lips and tongue. 

"Shit." He was hard now, and he was going to have to try to get you to behave on the short drive to the dealership. Bradley wrenched himself away from you and tucked your hands to your sides. "I love this, I really do, but you need to try to behave for like thirty more minutes."

He ran around to his door, wrenched it open, and soon he was pulling out of the parking garage. You had your head tipped back and your eyes closed as you whispered, "I can't explain it, Bradley, but all I can think about right now is your cock. Just huge and delicious. Fucking me and making me scream."

"Jesus, Baby Girl," he gasped, nearly driving off the road. 

You turned toward him, eyes wide now. "And I swear to god, you have never looked hotter than you do right now. I want to put my mouth on you."

This was doing nothing for his raging erection as he adjusted himself at a red light. When he saw your hands coming his way, he grabbed them and said, "Absolutely not. Sit on them." You whimpered, but you did as you were told and tucked your hands beneath your thighs. "Now listen closely, Sweetheart." The light turned green and he gunned the accelerator. "I love this enthusiasm. So I'll tell you what we're gonna do. When we get home, we're breaking in the new Bronco."

"Yes," you gasped, biting your lip and nodding. "Fuck me in it."

"I sure will," he rasped, unsure how he was going to manage your hormones for the next eight months. He really hoped this elevated sex drive meant everything was healthy for you and the baby. 

As he pulled into the Ford dealership, the bright cherry red Bronco was parked at the front of the building, and he sighed when he saw it. "There she is. Isn't she gorgeous?"

You unbuckled as soon as he parked. "It'll look even better when I've got my pants pulled down inside of it."

"Damn straight," he growled, climbing out his door and adjusting his pants the best he could. You came running to his side, and the two of you walked into the building, trying your very best to act normal. Bradley wrapped his arm around your shoulders and kissed your temple as you took some deep breaths. "You're doing great, Sweetheart," he muttered as he flagged down Terry who left him the voicemail message.

"You're back for the red Bronco!" he said as he headed over. "Why don't you step into my office so we can sign the final paperwork and get the keys."

Bradley felt you link your fingers with his, and the two of you sat side by side while Terry printed out some pages and rambled on about the extended warranty. You kept glancing at Bradley out of the corner of your eye and squirming in your seat. And if you thought he looked hotter now than he ever had before, then the feeling was completely mutual. You looked so damn good, even struggling through your morning sickness, that he wanted to get his hands all over your body. 

When your teeth sank down into your lip as you looked at him, he thought about sweeping everything off Terry's desk, telling him to get the fuck out of his own office, and nailing you right here. God, you'd make the prettiest sounds, too.

"How does that sound?" Terry asked, looking from you and then back to Bradley.

"I'm sorry, what?" Bradley replied, trying his best to get his libido under control. "I missed what you said."

Terry smiled serenely like he didn't know he was practically in the middle of a porno right now. "Would you like me to show you all the controls and interior features? Go over how everything works before you drive off with it?"

"Nope. I think we'll be fine figuring it out on our own," he replied immediately as he grabbed the proffered pen from the other man. He scribbled his signature on the bottom of the paperwork and then passed it to you to do the same. "You ready to get busy, Baby Girl?" he asked as he stood. 

"God yes," you moaned as he took the two sets of keys from a rather stunned looking Terry. "Let's go."

The two of you ran back out to the Broncos, and Bradley groaned. "Oh, hell yes. A hot wife, a baby and two Broncos. Someone pinch me."

"Just get in," you commanded, shoving him toward the red one. "You can deal with not knowing the controls, and I'll meet you at home." 

Bradley let you take the keys out of his pocket before he climbed inside the new one. He took a second to inhale that fresh, new car scent. He ran his fingers over the leather steering wheel. Then he kissed the keys and cranked the engine, barely taking the time to adjust the mirrors before pulling out onto the main road behind you. 

It took eight and a half minutes to get home, and the sun was dipping lower in the sky, but it was by no means dark outside when Bradley pulled in the driveway next to you. Your movements were sure and intentional as you unbuckled your khaki belt while you walked around the blue Bronco and went straight for the back door of the red one. 

"Are you coming?" you asked with desperation as you climbed in the back and looked at him still sitting in the driver's seat. You were on your knees on the seat, pulling your uniform pants and cute underwear down your thighs. "Please?"

"Holy fucking shit." On all fours. On the backseat. Back door open. You were just asking for the fuck of a lifetime, and he was going to give it to you.

"Bradley?"

He killed the engine and left the keys on the dash as he climbed into the backseat behind you. It was roomier than your shitty Honda, but he still had to work with what he had. "I got you, Sweetheart," he promised as you folded your arms and let your head rest on the seat with your gorgeous ass up in the air. He tasted you there, running his lips and mustache down through your soaking wet pussy while he undid his own belt.

You sighed in relief as you pressed slowly back for more pressure, and as soon as he had his hard cock hanging out the front of his pants, Bradley took your hips in his hands. You tasted and smelled delicious and familiar as he licked and kissed you everywhere as his hands slowly crept around to your belly. His fingers stroked you softly where he knew your tattoo was, and he licked you from hole to hole. 

"You're really worked up," he murmured as he kissed along your ass cheek and swiped his fingers through your pussy.

"I told you, Daddy!" you moaned, and he coated his cock up with your wetness and his precum. Then he got himself in position behind you, glancing around to see if any of the neighbors were out and about. But it didn't matter. You were already too far gone. He reached behind himself and closed the door a few more inches before it hit his boot, and then he covered your body with his own.

As he slid his cock slowly inside your pussy, he could already feel you clenching around him. When he bottomed out, you were whimpering pathetically. "Roo."

"Shh. I know, Baby Girl. I'll take care of it."

You nodded beneath him, glancing back as he kissed your perfect cheek. "I love you."

Bradley's heart melted even as he started to slowly thrust. He kissed your shoulder through your uniform shirt and wrapped one big hand around your belly. "I love both of you," he promised. Then he patted the seat right next to your folded arms. "In a few more months, there's gonna be a car seat right here. And I can't fucking wait. I can't wait to meet our baby."

"Daddy," you whined, and he planted his palm on the upholstery and held your body as he started to fuck you harder. He knew you wouldn't feel better until you could barely walk, and right now that's what he wanted, too. He thrusted harder as the sounds got more obscene, knowing anyone could see what was happening right now if they looked this way. You turned back with an absolutely delighted expression on your face and whispered, "Watch where you're bracing your foot."

Then he really let you have it, spanking your pussy lightly with his damp fingers and making you squeal while you clenched around him. He turned your head with his other hand so that your mouth was pressed to your forearm, hoping to muffle some of the noise before returning his palm to the upholstery. Oh, you were close now, and so was he, but he'd spend all night out here fucking you with this steady rhythm until you got what you needed from him. Because you always gave him everything.

As he stroked your clit with his middle finger, you whined his name, and your legs started to shake. "Come on, Baby Girl. Come on," he coaxed, pushing himself deep and staying still while you squeezed his length and shook beneath him.

A pitiful cry of Daddy was all he heard as you started milking him for everything he was worth. He rolled his hips until he was done, and then he gently wrapped his hand around your neck and guided you so your back was against his chest. He kissed your ear, letting you hear how he was panting to catch his breath while he said, "Baby number two gets made in a Bronco."

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

Well. The red Bronco now smelled like new car and filthy sex at the same time. And you had Bradley's cum all over your uniform pants. And your nipples hurt from rubbing against the backseat. But you felt incredible as Bradley closed up the doors, locked it and patted the hood before leading you to the house with his arm around your waist.

"All better?" he asked, slipping the key into the lock as you rubbed your face against his bicep. 

"So much better," you replied as Tramp greeted both of you. "In fact, I think I'm going to go relax in the bathtub."

When you tried to walk away from him, Bradley grabbed your hand. "Whoa. Not so fast." He yanked you gently back into his arms. "First of all, now that the new Bronco has been appropriately christened, you get to take a set of the keys." He dropped them into your hand as he kissed your forehead. "And second, I read about taking baths during pregnancy, and you can't have the water as hot as you're used to."

You gaped up at him. "You read about it?"

He nodded as his cheeks started to turn pink. "Yeah. Just online. You know, just because you like taking baths. And sometimes we take them together.  And I know I told you I wasn't going to start shopping too much yet, but I did order a tub thermometer on Monday. And it arrived yesterday. And I hope you don't think I'm crazy right now."

You squeezed him tighter as you whispered, "I don't think you're crazy. I think you're sweet and smart. You always seem to think of things that I don't. And on that note, would you like to get the thermometer and meet me in the bathroom? Naked?"

He patted you on the butt and whispered, "I'll feed Tramp and meet you in there."

You stripped out of your uniform and turned on the water, but you didn't crank it as hot as you normally would. You dipped your toes in and swirled them around as you thought back to last weekend when you sat in the empty tub and counted for three minutes until your pregnancy test was ready. It was fascinating to you, growing something inside you that made you so reactive to everything. Every time you thought about your upcoming appointment, you got antsy, hoping they would tell you everything looked as it should. 

Bradley kissed your shoulder as his body met yours. "I brought the goods," he whispered as he dropped the floating thermometer into the tub and held up a sleeve of crackers and a bottle of cold water.

You moaned and reached for the food, knowing you should eat something now while you still felt okay. "You're the best husband in the world."

As you shoved some crackers into your mouth, Bradley knelt and kissed your belly. "Hi," he whispered, making a huge smile break out on your face. "It's me again. Just checking in." He kissed your belly button and looked up at you as he said, "Mommy and I are hoping to see you next week with an ultrasound." He paused and pressed one more lazy kiss a little closer to your tattoo as he stared. "Your tits look fucking incredible, Sweetheart."

"Do they?" you asked, looking down at yourself. "They're so sore." 

Bradley grunted and shut off the water after he checked the thermometer. "So what you're saying is I can look, but I can't touch? Because that's just mean." He climbed into the tub and helped you in while you laughed. 

"It didn't hurt too much the other day when you were very, very gentle," you whispered as you straddled his lap facing him. These slightly cooler baths would take some getting used to, but it wasn't too terrible. 

"Got it." You ate a few more crackers as he intently focused on your half submerged breasts like they were about to cure cancer. His thumbs were soft and when his lips met your nipples, you arched your back until you were getting just the perfect amount of pressure. 

You let him kiss and nuzzle around for a few minutes while you played with his hair. When his mustache started to feel a little too rough, you yanked him back, and he stopped. "You're bristly."

He raised one eyebrow. "Do you want me to shave?"

"No!" you gasped running your fingers down his cheek to stroke his facial hair.

"I will if you want me to," he whispered, kissing your palm and pulling you a little closer. You curled up against his chest and hugged him.

"I don't want you to shave, Roo. You're so handsome this way." You kissed his sparse chest hair. "Thanks for getting the bath thermometer and making sure I got a new car. And thanks for fucking me all the time and taking care of everything."

He chuckled. "How can you go from feral and horny to sweet and snuggly so quickly?"

"It's the hormones," you replied with a yawn. "And as soon as I get out of the tub, I'm probably going to fall asleep. So if there's anything else we need to talk about, we have to do it now."

"Just Mickey's birthday party tomorrow," Bradley reminded you, and you groaned. 

"I forgot all about that. I'll have to bring crackers and hope I don't hurl everywhere. And how the hell am I supposed to avoid drinking at a kegger?"

"I have a few ideas."

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

Bradley's ideas were decidedly not the best, but you didn't come up with anything better, so you just went along with him. It was blazing hot out the following afternoon at the beach, and you felt a little bloated in your bathing suit, but your husband literally couldn't keep his hands off you.

"Roo!" you scolded when he came running over to you mid football game while you lounged on your back on a towel next to Phoenix. He dripped water all over your legs before dropping into a pushup position above you and kissing your lips until you giggled. 

"I can't help it," he panted. "I'm obsessed with this bathing suit. You wore it to the cliffs beach the first time you kissed me."

"Gross," Phoenix moaned as Bradley dipped his tongue into your mouth before standing again. 

Then he flopped down on her towel and kissed her cheek as he said, "All thanks to my very best friend."

"Go away!" she screeched, pushing on him until he got up and ran back to the rest of the guys who were all tipsy and trying to tackle Mickey. "He's horrible. I can't believe you married him," she said as she rolled onto her stomach. You wanted to be able to do that, but you were feeling pretty nauseous.  

"We all make mistakes," you replied, trying to discreetly eat another cracker. "Bradley's is the fact that he didn't reapply sunblock yet. I should probably call him back over."

"Please don't," Phoenix moaned. You sat up on your towel and tried to stretch, and then you saw Bob making his way down the beach. But he wasn't alone. 

"Maria!" you called out, waving your friend and Bob's new roommate your way.

Phoenix raised her arm in greeting, and you didn't miss the way Bob smiled down at Maria as she turned toward the towels as Bob headed for the water, catching a pass from Javy on his way.

"Hey," Maria greeted, dropping her bag down next to yours.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" you asked, patting your towel next to you.

She dropped down as she said, "I didn't really know I was. I got home from taekwondo right when Bob was getting ready to come here, and he invited me. Then he waited while I got changed."

You could tell she was looking at him through her dark sunglasses. Interesting. 

"Is he driving you crazy with his dice collection yet?" Phoenix asked her, and Maria started laughing.

"No, but it was so cute when he unpacked them. He has them all sorted by color, and he told me about his Dungeons & Dragons character while we drank a bottle of wine." Suddenly she stopped talking and cleared her throat. "So, how are you two?"

You gave her side eye as your stomach started to gurgle. You were really afraid you weren't going to make it through the day without being sick. You watched Jake pumping the keg of beer and squirting it directly from the nozzle into his mouth, and you prayed they finished the whole thing before anyone tried to offer you another cup. "I'm fine," you said absently. "I'll be back. Let me make sure Bradley puts on more sunblock."

You grabbed the tube from your bag and headed toward the water as Maria and Nat started to discuss workplace politics. "Bradley!" you called when you got a little closer, but he couldn't hear you over the sound of the waves and the guys all yelling. "Roo!" You waved your hand in the air, and Reuben turned toward you right as he was looking for a receiver to catch his throw. The football spun in slow motion, powerfully thrown, and you gasped as it was headed right for you. It was going to hit you in the stomach.

At the last second, you dropped the sunblock and turned, squeezing your eyes closed and holding out your hand. The ball hit you hard in the hip, and you gasped in pain.

"What the fuck, Payback!" Bradley thundered as he ran toward you, kicking up wet sand as your eyes welled up with tears behind your sunglasses. "Sweetheart! Are you okay?" His big hands were all over you, as you tried to nod. When his fingers grazed your belly, he pulled you close. "Where did you get hit?" he asked, wrapping his other arm around you. 

"My hip," you managed, and his hand dropped lower as he pulled you to his chest. "I'm okay. I just wanted you to put more sunblock on."

Now Reuben came rushing over. "I'm so sorry!" he said, reaching out a hand and placing it on your shoulder. 

You could feel Bradley tense up, and you had to whisper, "I'm okay. It didn't hit my belly. I swear, Roo."

Then he snapped at his friend. "Can you fucking pay attention next time?" 

"I'm sorry," Reuben repeated, and you left Bradley's arms to give him a squeeze instead. 

"I'm fine," you promised him. "Bradley's just protective, and it did hurt a bit."

"I will be extra careful," he promised.

"And I won't wander into the game unless I'm completely ready to play."

"It wasn't your fault," Bradley growled, and now you had to put your hands on his arms. 

"I'm fine," you reiterated. "Just put on more sunblock, okay? I don't want you to be in pain and bright red tonight when I will probably need you for special activities."

That got him to quirk one eyebrow up as you kissed him. "Okay." He bent and picked up the tube and tucked it into the pocket of his cutoffs, and as soon as you wandered away, the football game picked up again.

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

By the time Javy and Jake started the bonfire, Bradley was feeling pretty drunk. Reuben was still keeping a safe distance from him, which was making Bradley feel a little bit bad. It wasn't like he hit you on purpose, but the idea of the football hitting you that hard even close to your belly scared him. A lot. But you were claiming you were just fine, and he believed what you said. You even showed him the exact spot where you said you would be sore and bruised by tomorrow, and it seemed like it was a little closer to your butt than anywhere else. 

Right now, you were laughing with Nat and Maria, and you had a red solo cup of beer on your hand that you weren't drinking. Every time you looked at him a certain way, he pretended to fill his cup all the way and switched with you. It was working out well enough, except that he was getting drunk twice as fast this way.

"Come on," Nat was saying as she pulled on your arm. "Do a keg stand! I'll do one if you do one!"

You gave him the look and he sighed. He hadn't done a fucking keg stand since he was at UVA, and frankly he was too old for this shit, but he knew what he needed to do. "Nat, I can drink you under the fucking table any day of the week."

She turned to him, eyes flashing. "Prove it."

Next thing he knew, he was doing a handstand on top of the keg, one leg held up by Bob and the other by Javy, and Jake was squirting a steady stream of whatever shitty beer this was into his mouth while he tried to swallow it before it dripped down to his nose. Everyone started counting, and he made it thirty seconds before he started shaking his head. Once his feet were back on the sand, he realized his vision was a little blurry. 

When you wrapped your arms around his waist, he hissed. Shit. He never did reapply the sunblock like you told him to. Oh no. Now Mickey wanted him to do another keg stand. 

"Okay, birthday boy," Bradley replied, and you released him so he could have another go. This time, he couldn't remember how long he lasted, but everyone was slapping his sunburned back and jostling him around a lot. And he was drunk. Like really fucking drunk.

"How did he get like this, Angel?" Jake asked as he slung his arm around you. 

Bradley scoffed. "Hey, that's my wife," he slurred as he reached for your hand.

"Yeah, I'm well aware," Jake replied, and then Bradley started laughing when he remembered that you and Jake were friends, and he decided to lay down on your beach towel for a little bit. 

He couldn't be sure how long he was there, but the air was cooling down as the night wore on, and he felt kisses on his forehead. "Baby Girl."

"Yeah, I'm right here, Daddy," you whispered, taking his hands in yours. "Thanks for drinking enough to kill a horse."

He started laughing hysterically as he got to his feet. "You're fucking funny."

"I know, Roo," you said as you tugged him along the beach. "That's why you married me."

"No, it's not," he swore. "No. No. Not just that. I married you, because I had to."

You laughed as the new Bronco came into view, and Bradley wondered where everyone else was. "You had to marry me?"

"Oh yeah," he replied. "I knew it right away. Couldn't live without you. You're too sweet. And your ass is too fucking fine."

He let you push him into the passenger side door, and he kissed your forehead as you buckled him in. "Oh, Bradley," you giggled. "You're a mess." You were cupping his face gently, and you were going in and out of focus a bit, but he knew he didn't have to worry too much about anything while you were here.

"I love you," he whispered, and you pressed the softest kiss to his lips. "I love you and the baby."

As you brushed your fingers back through his hair, you told him, "Please don't barf in my Bronco, Sweetheart."

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

Bradley couldn't even move until Sunday afternoon. You tried your best not to laugh too much, but the combination of his hangover and the sunburn were perhaps the funniest thing you'd ever seen. He was walking around the house completely naked and holding his head. When you tried to facetime your parents, you had to send him back to the bedroom, and you could hear him moaning the whole time. 

"Do you want more aloe?" you asked him as you munched on a peanut butter cracker. "Or something to eat."

"Stop talking about food," he begged from his spot on his stomach on the bathroom floor. "And if you put more aloe on my back, I need you to do it very softly. Like how gentle I was with your tits, okay?" Then he groaned and lifted his head up from the bath mat. "God, I can't even fuck you properly right now."

You squeezed aloe onto your hands and carefully massaged it into his skin. "That's okay. Maybe you can watch me masturbate later?"

"Fuck! That's like a punishment! My hands are fine. I'll finger you. It'll be great." He winced as you rubbed him a little too hard by accident, so you kissed his pink cheek. 

"Just rest up, Daddy. We have a big week. I need to finish my portion of the presentation for Annapolis."

"I can help you practice it," he promised, petting Tramp when he wandered in to get an update on things. "And don't forget about 4:30 on Wednesday afternoon. That's the most important part of the week."

You combed your fingers through his hair, and his eyes closed as your tummy swooped. "First appointment with the obstetrician," you whispered. Excitement filled you up every time you thought about it, but so did a bit of anxiety. You'd been waiting seemingly forever to get to this point, and as you rubbed your sore hip, your mind filled with negative thoughts. What if they couldn't do an ultrasound? What if you didn't get to see the baby? What if there was something wrong?

"Hey." Bradley was sitting up, and his arms were open for you even though he looked a bit like a lobster. You crawled willingly into his overheated embrace, and if you were hurting him, he didn't say a word about it. "Wednesday, Baby Girl. I couldn't be more excited. Just wait, everything will be perfect."

You were surprised to find that the week didn't drag too much. Work was busy, and Bradley's sunburn was starting to peel. When you were on the verge of tears on Tuesday night because your libido was so insane right now, he fucked you hard in the kitchen while he said, "Next time, please force me to reapply the sunblock!"

"I will," you moaned as you came, delighting in the feeling of perfect release. 

And next thing you knew, it was Wednesday, and you were about to meet your new doctor for the first time. And hopefully you were going to see your baby for the first time.

"Are you nervous?" you asked Bradley as he laced his fingers with yours as you sat in the quiet waiting room together. There were expectant mothers at varying stages of pregnancy sitting around you, and you tried to imagine how big you'd be in a few more months. 

"Excited," he replied, kissing your cheek and ear. "Just really fucking excited. I've been thinking... about starting a notebook. Kind of for the baby? Like how sometimes I like to write down what I'm thinking and feeling for myself."

You nodded. "I love your deployment notebooks. I love what you wrote about me."

He kissed you hard on the lips. "I think I want the baby to be able to read about how much I was looking forward to meeting them. When they're older, I mean. They can read about how I feel like my heart is going to pound out of my chest right now," he said with a laugh. "And how I can't wait to hold them and give them a name. All about how much I love their mom."

Tears filled your eyes as you turned to tuck your face against his neck. "I like that idea." You kissed the side of his neck and told him how much you loved him back, and then you jolted in your seat as a friendly looking nurse called your name. 

"Come on back, you two," she said with a smile. "Hopefully mom and dad can leave with some new family photos."

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

I'm hoping for a family photo in the next part! I also don't know how she's going to survive Annapolis right now. I also can't believe Maria and Bob aren't about to fuck nasty. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 30

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[kiame-sama]

Drag Me to Hell- (Yandere!Alastor x Chubby!Reader) pt 4

Warnings; Several spoilers for EP 8, violence warning, mention of blood warning, injury, stick with it I promise, kind of cliffhanger, Nifty is a wild little thing,

~~~~~~~~

"Ah, the celebratory night before a courageous last stand. It's been a surprising thrill to witness these wayward souls find connection. Almost makes one sentimental, eh Ladies?"

"I really like them, Alastor. They let me put on roach puppet shows without booing!"

"Ah, an enjoyable collective to be around. I admit, one could get accustomed. What do you think, my precious Doe?"

You stood with Alastor and Nifty, watching the sinners you lived with for months drink and enjoy their evening. Part of you was honestly sad you may not see them ever again after that night. Who knew what heaven had in store for everyone or if anyone would even make it through the onslaught.

"I... hope everyone makes it through this. I don't know how much help I can be to them, but I truly want to help them however I can."

It was then Alastor laughed, almost seeming hysterical in his laughter and that put you on edge. Something about his laugh made you feel like you had said something that set him off and that was a concerning feeling for you.

"My adorably naïve Doe, what in Hell makes you think you're going to be anywhere on that battlefield? No, no. You'll be safe where you belong in your microphone home and far from Heaven's table scraps. Enjoy this night, Dear. This may be the last time you see our wayward pals again."

You were both unsurprised and horrified at Alastor's words. Part of you honestly thought you would be fighting the angels with the others and to hear Alastor so casually state his plans to lock you away upset you. There was no fighting or arguing with Alastor, but you also felt compelled to at least try and convince the cannibal demon to allow you to stand with the souls you befriended.

Before you had the chance to speak, there was a sudden weight added to your head and you saw Nifty putting an oddly woven crown with several dead roaches on Alastor as well.

"I dub thee King and Queen Roach."

"Oh, to understand your twisted little mind."

Both Alastor and Nifty laughed, but you struggled to find the same humor in the moment when the reality of all you could lose loomed over you.

~~~~~~~~

Everything was dark spare for the glowing neon lights outside of the broken radio tower. So vastly different from what it had been seemingly moments before. The arms that wrapped around you and held you snugly only served to ground you from the absolute terror you had been in.

"Please..."

Your voice was a whisper that only seemed to echo among the rubble around you. His arms tightened in response for just a moment, his body tense. The broken microphone you had been contained in was clenched in one of his fists and almost felt cold against your body.

"Quiet, sweet Doe... Do not speak now..."

A part of you was terrified to remind Alastor that your deal had been broken and you didn't need to follow his orders anymore, but an even stronger part of you hesitated to think back on how it all fell apart.

It came from seemingly nowhere. You were safe within the microphone when the blast of heavenly light pierced into you. What neither you nor Alastor realized was that when a deal created item like the microphone breaks, the deal and the soul bound to it break as well. That was really all you remembered before your own mind blocked the rest out to protect you.

You winced at the memory despite your now healed stomach. When you awoke after being swallowed by Alastor's darkness, your body was healed almost completely. The only thing left of the splitting injury was a freshly healed scar around your midsection and an oddly empty feeling within.

Alastor couldn't stop himself from replaying the memory over and over in his mind and he hated what it meant for him and the soul he had found himself so fond of. Mostly he hated how he had reacted to it and the truth he now knew in himself. He couldn't deny now that he needed you and losing you was enough to show him that.

The sound of your choked and gasping cries made agony rip through Alastor's damned and tainted soul far more than he realized it would. Both pieces of the microphone in his hands and your soft body laying beneath Adam's axe as the angel grinned maliciously down at you. Your deal with Alastor to keep you safe and alive had been broken.

"Well, ain't that cute. Looks like I got your little fucking sinner bitch instead of you, she- this is one of heaven's souls. Where the fuck did shit like you get a soul from heaven? Damn it! They'll lose their shit if I kill one of our souls!"

He couldn't deny it, but he would never admit to it. Alastor would never admit to being afraid and desperate to not lose you because his own ego couldn't take it. Though he could no longer delude himself, he could still delude everyone else. Everyone except for you.

"Make another deal with me, my innocent lost Doe of heaven. Keep my eternal secrets for me. Broadcast for me with your pure radio waves and soul. I will keep hell from tainting you, and you keep your heaven touched soul reserved for me. Strengthen my radio station and be my trusted pet once more..."

Alastor hummed against your shoulder in a soft tone, knowing that he needed to get you back on his leash. He wasn't the only one in hell aware of your pure soul anymore. A heaven touched and claimed soul so untainted and pure was a very rare thing. Whatever angelic pride resulted in you being wrongfully cast out allowed Alastor a fantastic trophy of a soul. Despite still being considered the quarry of heaven, you wound up in Hell and you would remain there if he had anything to say about it.

A sinner's soul was one thing. One of heaven's souls was another entirely.

"Refuse... Well, we both know the broadcast can keep your sweet voice and soul protected for another half a decade. At least I don't make you scream for it."

~~~~~~~~

Vox watched the video over and over again of the soft woman Alastor supposedly kept within his microphone. What that stupid first human said peaked his interest in this Hell-bound heavenly soul. If he could get his hands on that soul there were certain to be some grand abilities paired with it, not to mention the value of such a soul in Hell's market.

All Vox had to do was convince Valentino and Velvet to put value in the same soul and it would be akin to a one-way ticket to the strongest overlords Hell has known. Well, that and wresting the pure soul from Alastor's control. It shouldn't be too hard given the fact that their deal was broken, but Alastor was likely to try and make another deal just to keep that sweet soul to himself.

On top of just the heavenly soul, the soul of the little maid Nifty was certainly a hot commodity given just what she did at the end of the extermination battle. With both souls in hand, Vox might not even need the other Vees in time. He could rise above the two Vees he had teamed up with and become more powerful than even Zestial.

No doubt the other Vees won't be too difficult to convince when it comes to the idea of collecting the two high value souls. Once Vox has his hands on those souls and can use them to taunt that old-timey prick, he will finally have everything he wants within his reach.

[number1mingyustan]

- Cuffing Season-

His Needs

boyfriend!mingyu x fem!reader

Warnings: established relationship, size kink, roleplay (ish?? not really), dom!gyu, mentions of porn, penetrative sex, explicit smut, mutliple orgasms, forced orgasms, multiple positions, spanking, squirting, grinding, she dresses up for him, this is flithy

Summary: He just has to get his way

Word Count: 2.3k

_______________________________________________

“There’s no way in hell I’m putting that on,” you roll your eyes.

“Baby please,” He looks at you with soft eyes.

“Mingyu this is ridiculous.” You scoff.

“I proved I would do anything for you the last time we fucked, I feel like it’s only fair you return the message.” He raises an eyebrow.

“You mean when you cried and called me ‘Mommy?’” You smirk.

“I did not call you that! And you said you wouldn’t bring that up again,” he groans.

“Oh baby…” You coo. “I’m never letting you forget that.”

“Can you just… put it on for me, please? I know you’ll look sexy,” he pleads.

“You’re so perverted Mingyu… I don’t know why you bought this in the first place thinking I’ll wear it.”

“Because I know you, and you’ll put it on for me because you love me and I’m horny. Baby please” He whines.

“This has got to be misogynistic in some way. I’m sure the feminists wouldn’t approve of this.”

“Baby… I just saw something like it online and I thought you would look good in it. Don’t scold me for wanting to be a little adventurous.”

“Have you been watching porn or something? I just don’t understand what prompted this” You raise an eyebrow.

He shrugs. “It’s been on my mind for a while.”

“So you’ve been watching porn.”

“Okay yes, maybe I’ve been watching porn,” He glares at you.

You look down at the outfit he’s displayed for you on the bed. There’s really no point in putting on, you know it’ll only be a matter of time before he’s ripping off what little fabric there is to begin with.

It’s a sexy maid costume he ordered online. He even paid extra for the quick shipping to get it here quicker.

“So what? We don’t have sex for like… 5 days and you start getting off on other women,” you fake disapproval.

He groans. “You know I only watch faceless porn… and I think about you the whole time. Don’t do that.”

“I’m only messing with you Gyu,” you grin and run your finger along the fabric.

“C’mon baby… I’m already half hard. I just wanna see you in it.”

You glance at him, taking note of the semi he’s sprouting in his sweatpants. “Mingyu you really are like a teenage boy,” you chuckle and pick up the costume and make your way toward the bathroom. You’ve teased him long enough.

His eyes light up with excitement and anticipation.

You close the bathroom door behind you and change out of your clothes and into the costume. “Gyu… if I come home and see some kind of sexy schoolgirl outfit, I’m gonna take half the company’s earnings and leave you.”

“I’m not that bad!” He calls from the bedroom. “You know… I think like the absolute most I would wanna see you in is like a… bunny girl senpai outfit. Like that’s all—holy shit–“

He cuts himself off when you walk out of the bathroom.

“I don’t understand why you were being such a hater baby. It’s doing wonders for your tits right now.”

You smirk at him. “It is, isn’t it?”

“Come here.”

He’s quick to pull you onto his lap. He can’t stop himself from staring, you’re just too sexy. Much like his eyes, his hands are quick to wander your body.

You’re so tiny on his lap. Sitting with your legs parted between his.

After indulging himself in a few inappropriate touches, his hands move their way up your thighs and under your skirt. His breath stops in his throat when he realizes you took off your panties.

“No panties? Baby you’re really trying to kill me aren’t you?” He breathes out.

“Just figured I’d make it easy for you,” You smirk, lifting up your skirt more for him to see.

He tilts his head back with a groan. You’re so hot, he really might lose it. His hand slips between where your bodies meet and he palms himself slowly through his sweats with a soft moan.

It’s so lewd.

He’s literally touching himself with you seated on his lap and dressed in next to nothing. There’s already a small stain on his sweats leaking through.

“You really are just like a teenager Gyu. Nearly cumming before we’ve ever gotten started,” You tease.

“Don’t be a bitch Y/n,” He bites back. “I’ll fuck you until you wanna clean for me like a real maid.”

Ugh. As much as you loved dominating Mingyu, you’ll always love his dominant side more. You can’t help it, he’s so big and strong and he can’t stand not being in control. You’ll never be caught complaining about it.

His large hand finds the back of your neck and he pulls you him for a rough kiss with no hesitation. It’s sloppy and needy, nothing out to the ordinary with him.

He pulls away, panting softly and licking his lips before reattaching his lips to your neck. He sucks on your skin, leaving dark hickies along your neck and the top of your breasts.

You start growing needy, grinding your bare bottom against the thing fabric of his sweatpants. He’s fully hard now, cock poking perfectly against your clit as you grind yourself down on him.

“Shit baby… you’re worse than me,” he chuckles lightly as he looks down at the large wet patch you’ve left on his sweatpants.

“Shut up.”

A harsh smack lands on your bare ass, causing you to hiss and arch your back, pushing your hips down onto him harder.

He’s so strong.

“You know better than to speak to me like that,” He clenched his jaw.

“ ‘M sorry..” You mumble.

“No you’re not.” He lifts you off his lap and flips you over with ease. He presses your back down, leaving your ass in the air for him. “But it’s okay… I’m gonna make you sorry.”

He pulls his cock out of his sweatpants and rubs it along your folds teasingly.

It’s torture.

You somehow ended up needier than him in a matter of minutes. You’re lying there dripping and unable to see what he’s doing to you. Your walls are fluttering in anticipation.

He can see it all. The way you’re desperately clenching around nothing while you wait for him to fill you up.

He wants to fuck you, but you caught another attitude with him.

You and your damn mouth.

You’ve always had a bit of an attitude problem. Mingyu thinks it’s kind sexy until you catch one with him in the bedroom. It’s one thing to see you catch some sass when you’re talking to someone else. But with him? He’d rather put your mouth to better use.

He pushes the tip of his cock in, giving you a false sense of satisfaction before withdrawing completely with a smirk plastered across his face.

He can’t see how annoyed you are, but he can hear the frustrated groan you let out. “Gyu…”

“Yes my love?” He grins.

“Don’t do this to me. I said I was sorry.”

“But you didn’t mean it.”

“I did!”

He does it again, putting in just the tip before pulling out of you completely. You whine.

He does it a third time, but you’re quicker. Before he can pull out, you slam your ass back, thrusting his length all the way into you.

“Fuck’s sake,” He groans. “You’re horrible Y/n.”

You’re too caught up in how good the stretch of his cock feels to even respond. He takes over, slamming his hips against your ass and thrusting into you harshly.

He holds your hips steady with his big hands, ramming his cock deep inside of you quickly. Your ass recoils with every thrust and he’s left mesmerized.

It’s not long before you feel yourself getting close. He pounds into you so good. His hand snakes between your thighs and his finger circles your clit. He needed to feel you cum around him.

He loves it so much. The way you tighten around him and how you always manage to get wetter.

His finger moves quicker, his thirsts never flattering in pace.

“Oh fuck Mingyu I’m so close,” You warn him.

He doesn’t stop when you cum. He fucks you through your orgasm thoroughly. You’re moaning and crying out his name but he doesn’t stop.

He gives you no time to recover from your state of bliss before he’s leaning over and pushing your head down deeper into the bed. Your back arches more and he can now pound you deeper.

Your hands grip the bedsheets tightly as he rams his cock deep inside of you.

“You feel so good” He moans.

It only takes a few moments before he’s driving you into another orgasm. This one is more intense than the first and your whole body goes numb for a second.

You’re sensitive and overstimulated. You figure this is karma for the way you put it on him last time.

“Gyu… I can’t take it” You whine into the bedsheets. Your voice is muffled, but he knows exactly what you said.

You let yourself believe he’s listening to you when he pulls out of you. For a moment, you’re relieved.

But then he flips you onto your back and fills you up again. “You can baby. Gosh you look so sexy right now… all dressed up for me and crying on my cock.”

You whine out in response.

He holds your legs wide open for him as he fucks himself into you. You’re already overstimulated and tears are starting you prickle the corners of your eyes.

It’s so intense but it feels so good. He fucks you roughly, treating you like a toy intended for his own pleasure.

“Ah-hah Gyu” You moan. “I really can’t…”

“You can baby” He grins as he continues thrusting his cock into you. “Give me one more darling.”

“Mmph- I can’t Gyu. I really can’t” You pant.

“There’s no such thing,” he smirks.

He takes advantage of the fact that you’re so sensitive. He begins thrusting into you at an inhuman pace, pinning your down so your legs stay wide open for him.

It’s so fucking good. His cock rams deep inside of you and his finger circles your clit once more. His pace makes you ache, the tip of his cock brushing deep inside of you, repeatedly hitting the one spot that makes you go mad.

It’s all too much, it happening too fast.

You don’t have time to fully process before he’s forcing another orgasm out of you. It’s so unfair but it’s so fucking good,

You cum so hard you don’t even realize you’re squirting until he pulls his cock out and watches the way you soak the sheets.

You cry out, eyes squeezed shut and the pleasure suffocates you. You feel dizzy and it takes longer for you to fully come down.

His cock is already inside of you again as your body spasms at the feeling of being full again. He pins you down to keep you from squirming.

“You’re making such a mess baby… some maid you are” He teases.

You’re breathing heavily and still trying to recover from the intensity. "Gyu.. I really can't anymore."

"Baby I didn't even get to cum yet," he pouts. "That wouldn't be fair now would it... you had what, three?" He sucks his teeth and continues thrusting into you slowly. "How selfish."

He's really showing no mercy.

Your pussy is already spent. You're still dripping, making it easier for him to slip in and out of you with low effort. His cock throbs and swells inside of you. He's getting close, thankfully.

"You'll let me cum won't you?" He asks. "You wanna let me really ruin this pussy don't you baby? Dressed up for me so pretty, making a mess everywhere. Don't pretend like you don't love it."

You whine.

"You were so confident earlier... that mouth of yours. Not much to say now huh?" he smirks, picking up the pace of his thrusts.

Mingyu himself is surprised he's held out this long. When you were on his lap he was nearly about to cum in his pants untouched. Seeing you like this, dressed up for him with your legs wide open after three orgasms, the sight alone could make him cum. You are just that hot... you have that effect over him.

But you pull another reaction out of him too. One that makes him never want to stop. He really can't help it. You make him want to keep going, he craves more constantly. He can never get enough of you no matter how much to satisfy him.

Your throat is starting to get sore from how much noise you've been making. You rasp out his name and it finally sends him over the edge. He tries to pull out, but you squeeze down on his cock purely out of reaction.

"Fuck," he groans.

Luckily he's stronger than you, so he manages to spill the rest of his load on your inner thighs.

It's a mess.

There's cum dripping out of you and down your thighs, the sheets are still soaked alongside his torso and the lower half of your outfit. Mingyu looks down with satisfaction written on his face.

"I put you in a maid outfit and you end up making an even bigger mess," he grins.

You're still exhausted, hardly able to respond to him. He lifts you up, helping you undress and running a bath to properly clean you up.

He takes the bedsheets and puts them into the washing machine, replacing them with fresh ones before joining you in the bathroom to clean up his mess. _______________________________________________

© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

[musings-of-a-rose]

Weighted Blanket

Pairing: Will Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 860+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Chatting about what a great weighted blanket this man would make and so I dedicate this to @laurfilijames. This was not beta read.

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Will Miller Masterlist

Today had been the day from hell. You knew it would be, especially since you’d been out for several days being sick. Morning meetings ran long, everyone scrambling to prepare to open, and then the patients? Don’t even get me started. 

When I finally get into my car at the end of the day, I turn on the ac and rest my head against the headrest taking several deep breaths, just listening to the vents pumping cool air into my hot car. I just have to make it home. A shower is waiting for me and Will should be home today.

Will. 

My amazing boyfriend of a year and a half. Will had to go away for work for a few days and was finally coming home. I know a few days isn’t that long but it killed him to leave me when I was sick. And to be honest, I hated not having him there, sick or not. 

His truck is in the parking lot when I pull in and I smile knowing he’s upstairs. I hurry to our apartment and push my key in the lock, quickly shedding my shoes and tossing my bag down on the little side table before heading towards the kitchen, where sounds and a delicious, heavenly smell were emanating from. I lean against the door frame, just taking in the sight of him. Will, standing at the stove with his back to me, casually making my favorite food, his hair still wet from a shower, navy blue shirt stretched thin over his broad back and thick arms, grey sweatpants hung low on his hips. He clicks off the burner and divvy’s the food onto 2 plates before turning, his face lighting up when he sees me.

“Hey, sweetheart. How was work?” When I don’t answer right away, he let’s out a low whistle. “That bad, huh?”

I nod, pushing off the door frame. “Nothing I didn’t anticipate. Still sucked though.”

“You hungry?”

“Starving. But first I need to shower. I feel so gross.”

Will sets the plates down and takes a few large steps towards me. He moves for a hug and damn do I want one, but I’m gross. People actually spit up on me today. So I sigh, stepping back and Will puts his hands up, freezing in place. 

“Must have been really bad.”

“You don’t even want to know.”

He winks and blows a kiss at me, turning back to finish up dinner. The shower was glorious, the hot water and bubbles relaxing me somewhat, and washing away all of the gross from my skin and hair. I don’t linger, my stomach grumbling as I pull on some pajamas and head straight for the kitchen table, where Will had just set down drinks for us. Before I sit, he pulls me to him, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, his hands cradling my face. 

“I missed you, sweetheart.”

“I really missed you too, Will.” He starts to deepen the kiss, but is interrupted by the loudest grumble yet from my traitor of a stomach. He laughs, placing a hand on my tummy. 

“Let’s get some food in you.”

—----

Dinner was delicious, as usual when Will cooks. It’s not just that he follows the recipe to a t, but he has his own personal flair to it. Will’s cooking can make any sour mood turn sweet. Or maybe that’s just me. 

After our bellies are full, we sit on the couch and I curl my body against his, feeling his large arm wrap around me, the warmth from him seeping into my bones. He kisses the top of my head and rests his own there, both of us content to just be with the other. But my day was hard and before long, I feel my eyelids drooping. Will must have noticed because I swear I blinked and somehow ended up in bed, Will pulling the blankets up around me before crawling in next to me. He tries to pull me to him, but it’s not what I need. He crooks his finger under my chin, lifting my head to look at him through sleepy eyes. 

“Do you need Will blanket?” I nod, my eyes barely open. 

Will helps me lay down on my back, making sure my pillow is adjusted before he drapes half his body over mine, linking one of his muscular legs with mine as he tucks himself over me. His arm drapes over my body, rubbing small circles into my opposite arm. I turn my head and realize my nose is in the perfect spot to nuzzle into his hair, so I do it, inhaling the scent of him. The weight of him on me settles my nerves, the last bit of overstimulation and wired emotions leeching from my body the longer I feel his breathing, his body pressing into mine. 

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too.”

It’s so tender and loving, full of care and I think about how much I love this man as he gently lulls me to sleep.

In the morning, he has different plans for me and I’m so glad I got the rest I needed.

—----

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[astroboots]

Every You Every Me | Issue #7

COLLABORATED WITH @thirstworldproblemss

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You finally get some answers out of Miguel about who you are to him.

Word count: 5,700 words.

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss' Masterlist

[Previous] [Next]

"So let's take it from the top," you tell him, as you sit down and put down the Trenta-sized caramel flavored hot chocolate with extra whipped cream and chocolate syrup in front of the man named Miguel O'Hara.

The two of you are sitting across from each other at a small booth at the nearest Starbucks you were able to find, seeing as you're homeless now, and there's nowhere else you could think of to go.

He's dressed in a large fitted hoodie that drapes down to his thighs. Where he's managed to find something that is oversized in length on him, you don't know because he's not exactly short.

"I'm from a dimension known as Earth-928," Miguel says.

Before he can continue, you raise one hand, and you can see his right eyebrow twitch unhappily at the interruption. 

"Yes?"

"Just to clarify, so we don't have another ‘coffee cake’ misunderstanding. When you say Earth-928, do you mean a different version of the Earth we’re on now? Or is this a habitable planet in another galaxy that happens to be partially named Earth?"

"It's a parallel universe characterized by distinct physical parameters and initial conditions, accounting for the diverse manifestations of our observable universe. So still Earth," he says, sweeping his gaze across the café, nose wrinkling the way one does when there's something off-putting in their vicinity. "Just a little bit less primitive."

Of course he would say that, wouldn't be able to resist the jab would he.

You peer up at him across the table. He is very technical and thorough with his explanations. But as grateful as you are for him finally being willing to answer your questions, you hadn't expected those answers to be quite so information dense. You need to pick your questions more carefully or you are going to have to go down the street to buy yourself a notebook in order to keep up.

"How did you end up on this Earth?" you ask.

"Where I'm from, I'm a scientist, a researcher. One of the things I studied was the theory of physical cosmology and the existence of the multiverse. My work was concentrated on the theoretical ability to navigate between distinct universes within a hypothetical multiverse–”

Ah shit, you should've been more narrow in your question. Should have asked him to simplify it a bit more for you. Because now you're sitting here blinking up at him, pretending you understand half of what he's saying. 

It makes sense that he’s STEM. He speaks like the type. Smart as hell with none of the social skills to gauge whether the other person is following the conversation. 

Listening to him reminds you of that time in college, when you'd walked into the wrong lecture hall, wound up in advanced chemistry instead of your math class, felt too awkward to leave and just sat there drawing doodles with an attentive expression until the class was over. 

And he’s still at it, “– employing advanced mechanisms that manipulate or transcend conventional spacetime frameworks, enabling exploration–"

"Okay, wait, hold on a sec," you interrupt, once it becomes obvious he’s not going to stop any time soon on his own. "Can you... simplify, please?"

He stops mid-sentence, taking a deep breath as he looks up at the ceiling and considers your request, with a serious expression as if he's thinking really hard on it. "I’m a scientist. I study the multiverse. I built a parallel universe traversal device, it allows me to visit different dimensions." Your brain feels insulted that it clearly took more mental effort for him to dumb it down for you than to just give the supergenius version.

“So… a machine that allows you to jump between alternative universes?” 

“Yes.” 

There’s a pause between you as you run through the questions in your mental list you want to tick off now that he’s turned cooperative and talkative. But with everything that’s happened in the last handful of hours, a lot of the questions you previously had seemed outdated. The one question, the most important one, you’ve wanted to ask from the start though remains. 

"Who am I to you?"

Miguel takes the large sized drink in his even larger hands and somehow this big paper cup still manages to look tiny in his grip. "You and I were... involved," he says.

You frown. ‘Involved’ is such a vague term. It belongs in the trash with other useless terms to describe relationships: “situationship”, “complicated”, you hate them all. 

"So I was your girlfriend?"

"Yeah, something like that," he concede, fidgeting with the thin gold chain looped around his neck, his eyes not quite meeting yours, like he's embarrassed to use the term.

‘Something like that,’ you chew on his answer unhappily, sympathizing with your other dimensional self and how the other you seemed to have snagged a commitment phobe. 

Other-you, who isn’t here in this dimension with Miguel. You wonder why that is. 

"What happened to me?" you ask.

His eyes are glued to the table,  not looking up at you as he answers you in a voice so quiet you can barely hear it. "She died."

"Oh."

The revelation shouldn’t take you by surprise. 

Every time Miguel’s brought up your other self, it’s been tinted with earth-shattering sadness. It's not hard to put one and one together and come to the conclusion that whatever happened to you in this other dimension didn't end happily.

Still it's an odd feeling to know that out there, somewhere, a version of you has died. A version of you that was clearly very important to the man in front of you.

"I'm sorry," you tell him.

It feels silly to say. It's bizarre to give your condolences over your own parallel death, but Miguel looks so heartbroken. He’s slumped in his seat, large shoulders rounded until his frame looks so much smaller than you're used to, and you don't know what else to do.

"So what is happening to me now," you start, not sure how to word what the phenomena that you're going through is, "these continuous near-death experiences, is that how she died?"

"Yeah."

"And do you know why that... kept happening to her? Why is it happening to me?"

"I don't, and I don't know how to stop it. Believe me I tried."

He cradles the paper cup in his hands, the grip a little bit tighter now until he's creasing the paper and the caramel liquid oozes and leaks from the top.

"What I do know is that the universe isn’t going to stop trying to kill you, no matter what you do. And with every near death incident you manage to survive, these incidents will escalate in nature, until..." he stops, eyes flickering away from the cup to meet yours, but it's like he loses courage and doesn't want to say the last part.

"Until, what?" you prompt.

"Until your dimension collapses."

The blood freezes in your veins. "Wait, collapses!? What do you mean?"

"I can't guarantee it will happen again. But that's what happened last time. When the other you kept cheating death, the universe eventually started to collapse in on itself."

You slump back in your chair, trying to process what you've just been told. What does that mean? That even if you managed to defy all odds to survive, doing so would doom the rest of this universe as you know it?

"When will that happen?" you ask, and you're surprised you manage to get the words out because there is a hard lump in your throat that makes it hurt to even swallow.

"Judging from the trajectory and escalation of events, you have about three months give or take."

The two of you sit in heavy silence, for the moment you're not sure what else to ask him. Because it feels like you are trapped in a building looking for an exit sign, but all that’s tacked onto the brick wall is your death certificate, waiting to be signed and formalized.

There’s no way out. Nowhere to go.

"Give me your hand," he says, breaking the silence. 

You give it to him without hesitation, watching, puzzled, as he takes off his watch and secures it around your wrists.

"Why are you giving me your watch?"

"It's not a watch," he says, then he presses something on the face of it, and an image of a young woman flickers into existence in the space above your wrist, vaguely see-through. A hologram!

"This is Lyla," he introduces.

Wait, wait? Lyla? As in your mom Lyla? You watch the tiny woman floating above your wrist. Short bob-cut, and flashy heart-shaped sunglasses, with a twinkle in her eye. 

The hologram looks nothing like your mom. You part your mouth, about to ask about the name but you're interrupted by the energetic buzz of a female voice greeting you.

"Boss-girl! Long time no see. Want me to catch you up on the latest multiversal gossip? I compiled an edit of highlights set to Despacito."

"Lyla," Miguel warns, tersely. "Not now."

"Ruuuuude! You're the one who woke me up you know."

"Lyla, go back to sleep."

The female avatar grumbles, but then her image flickers away and the watch turns back into, as far as you can tell, just an ordinary watch.

"Why did you name the watch Lyla?"

"It's not a– " He cuts himself off, sighing with exasperation. "Lyla is an advanced A.I. she's going to be with you at all times. She's an added layer of security, built to protect you."

He didn't answer your question. Completely sidestepped it as if the two of you are having two different conversations.

Built to protect you, he'd said. Does that mean he still intends to do that?

"So you're not going to leave?" you ask him.

He leans back in his seat, eyes drifting towards the table. "No."

You look up at him, stumped. Not sure you're understanding what he's saying. Because not even a few hours ago, when the two of you were in your apartment, this man was adamant there was nothing to be done to save you. That he was going to leave and you were never going to see him again.

Right now though, his actions seem to be contradictory to that. You can't make heads or tails of him. Hot and cold doesn’t even begin to cover it. 

"Why not?" you ask, "I mean, not that I’m not grateful, but you seemed pretty set on the whole ‘I can’t save you’ thing. What changed your mind?"

“You did.” His eyes narrow as he looks down at you, crossing his arms ever his chest, "You told me you wanted to live. Have you changed your mind already?"

“Wha– NO! I just want to know why you changed yours.”

“I–” He hesitates, another wave of sadness passing over his face. “I’m a superhero. I save people… or try to. It’s what I do. I’m not gonna just leave you to die after you tell me you want to live.”

It’s a good answer, even if you don’t buy that it’s the whole truth. 

You look down at your wrist, and the shiny chrome of the not-watch he's just gifted you winks back up at you. "Do you think I have a chance of surviving all this?"

"It's pretty hopeless," he says, and there’s no break in his expression as he continues. "Your chances of making it out alive are pretty much mathematically impossible."

It's odd though. Even though he's outlining the futility of your situation, basically telling you to raise the white flag and surrender, there's something contradictory in the tone of his voice. 

"What do you want to do?" he asks you.

It’s a challenge, you realize. An encouragement. He has faith in you. It's all of these things rolled into one. As if he's telling you to prove the universe wrong.

"I want to live," you answer. "If the universe collapses in three months, then please stay with me. Give me time to solve this and find a way to stay alive."

His mouth curls into a hint of a smile. The very first you've seen from him since you've met. It's bright and boyish, erasing the harsh lines of his stern expression until it gives way for something much softer underneath that makes your heart leap in your chest with triumph.

You grin, a strange elation of happiness buzzing in you as you stretch out your hand to him, in an invitation for a handshake to seal the deal.

"Deal?"

Miguel leans over the table, clasping your hand in his much larger one as he squeezes it back gently.

"Deal." That small smile from before is still there. "So what's next?" he asks.

The thing you never realized, being an ordinary person bereft of super genes or other superhuman powers is just how convenient commuting can be if you have them. 

No longer do you have to brave the Lynchian nightmare that is the NYC subway system. Half-naked manic street preachers giving sermons as you’re held hostage, with nowhere else to go in the carriage. Being chased down by a drunk trumpeting Mariachi band. Instead, all you need to do to get from point A to point B (A: being the Chrysler building and B: the building formerly known as your home) is to hold on tight to Miguel as he swings you both above the city gridlock.

You imagine that this is what paragliding must feel like, except it's so much better because here you don't have to do the safety training beforehand or pay $3,000 for the privilege.

The city skyline is a dark evening blue, dotted with the sparkling lights of office buildings, cab roof lights and street lamps, as the wind ruffles through the fabric of your clothes.

It's such a different sight when you're flying above instead of walking on the streets below, that you don't even clock that you're in your neighborhood, until you see a building with a collapsed wall that's been blocked off, looking like a crash site. Only then do you realize... you're home.

Miguel carefully sets you down on your feet on a small patch of concrete that is clear of the rubble and destruction.

"Why did you want to come back here again?" he asks. 

It’s a good question. Now that you're here, standing in the middle of charred debris and cracked bricks, you're not sure either. You had some vague plans of seeing what you could salvage, hoping for some clothes, maybe your electric toothbrush, or really just any of your stuff. Something that’s yours, no matter how small, to hold on to after the events of today have ripped away life as you know it.

But there’s nothing left. The furniture, all your books and knick knacks, and even your dirty laundry piles have been demolished. Your home as you know it is gone. There's only piles and piles of rubble and traces of white fire extinguisher foam on the ground. The fire has been out for hours, but the pungent smell of smoke and sulfur still pervades the air. 

"You okay?" Miguel asks.

He's still standing at the outer edges of the apartment, close to where your window would have been if a helicopter hadn't crashed through it.

"Yeah... I guess the silver lining is that I didn't have anything expensive. Though it'd been nice if I could've saved my mom's Le Creuset set or at least the nanny-cam so I could return it and get a refund," you joke glibly. 

You nudge aside some concrete rubble with the cap of your shoes. There's nothing under there, no treasured memorabilia that's still miraculously intact. Just more burnt concrete and rubble.

"Why did you have a nanny cam?"

You turn around at his question, to see him hovering close to you, one eyebrow raised with an unhappy set to his jaw. 

From the displeased expression on his face, he's probably misunderstanding something here. Probably thinks you're operating a very unlucrative Onlyfans business, when what you've really been doing is spy on him and his nightly visits. You don't know which is worse to confess to, so you don't confess to anything.

"No reason," you say, ignoring the way his already raised eyebrow twitches with irritation at your lack of an answer.

"Come on, let's go," he says, and he waves towards you in a come hither motion like he's commanding a dog.

"Go?" you ask him. "It's past midnight. My place, as you can see, is wrecked. Go where exactly?"

Miguel shoots you a strange look. "A hotel," he says, like it's the most obvious thing, and– okay, he's not completely wrong in that assumption.

Problem is, you didn't have time to pick up your wallet or phone before your impromptu interdimensional visit. They’ve been incinerated along with all the rest of your worldly possessions, which means you don't have any way to pay for a hotel.

Plus Manhattan hotel prices average $400 a night. Even if you still had access to your debit cards, your budget’s pretty tight right now after all the capital you invested in your unhinged quest to trap the superhero before you. 

"In the city? I don't have that kind of money and it will take months for any insurance payouts to come in."

You should know. As an insurance claims adjuster, you know you’ll be lucky if your claim is processed before the end of the year. And, ugh, just the thought of the paperwork you’ll have to fill out is enough to give you an anxiety migraine.

"I’ll cover the room," Miguel says casually before holding out a hand to you, "Come on, let’s go."

When Miguel said he’d cover it, you expected a reasonably-priced room at one of the Days Inn across the river or the like. Hopefully a place with no rats or bed bugs, and maybe clean bedding over a somewhat comfortable mattress for you to pass out on if you were lucky.

You didn't expect this.

Standing in front of the Midtown Four Seasons, you find yourself on sleek marble so polished you can see your own reflection. You haven't even stepped a foot inside yet and there are two old fashioned doormen, wearing immaculately fitted suits, with an even more impressive posture opening the majestic double-set doors for you as you approach.

It's swanky as hell, and you can’t help gawking like a tourist, eyes glued to the decadent carved ceilings that must be at least 30 feet tall, soaring above you. Honey-colored limestone that looks like it’s been looted from Ancient Rome.

You feel more than a little bit out of place. This is way outside of your budget. You could probably work your job for a lifetime, and not have enough disposable income to stay the night at a place like this.

"Uhm, Miguel... this place is way too–" you start, turning towards him.

But as you were busy lamenting the state of the housing market, he's already walked away from you (for such a bulky guy, he moves swiftly and silently) and as you whip your head around to find him, he's already standing in front of the receptionist.

Damned antelope legged man, would it kill him to wait up for you once in a while? You run up after him and have to tip-toe in order to see over his shoulder because the giant mammoth is blocking the check-in counter.

And wow, even the receptionist here is of a different caliber than the ones you'd find at Holiday Inn. A fashionable bob-cut with razor sharp edges, looking like a model cut out from a Vogue cover.

"Do you have a reservation, Sir?"

You half-expect him to say no, and that the two of you would have to tuck your tail between your legs and walk out of here to the backdrop of a sad trombone playing.

To your astonishment he says your name. The receptionist tip-taps away at her keyboard and then she nods and smiles gracefully at you both. 

"Yes of course. After reviewing your reservation details, I am pleased to inform you that all necessary arrangements have already been made, including advance payment and verification of your identification. Your room is ready for you, we trust you will enjoy your stay."

She flashes you a pearly white smile so shiny it's almost blinding and hands you a hotel key card. 

When you turn around, to your confusion Miguel is no longer next to you. How does he keep disappearing like this? 

"Cielito," Miguel’s voice calls. The nickname doesn’t register at first. It doesn't even occur to you that he’s referring to you, until he barks it out a second time. 

Your head darts up to see him standing by the elevator, tapping his feet impatiently as he waits for you to make it over to him.

"How did you do that?" you whisper loudly to him as you step into the elevator. "Where did you get my ID? How did you make a reservation? How did you--"

He takes your hand, mid-sentence, turning your wrist upwards and taps the watch.

"The computer systems in this universe are child's play for Lyla to manipulate. Reservations, money, ID, she can take care of all of that easily," he explains.

"She can do that?" you ask, and Miguel merely nods at you as the elevator closes behind the two of you.

You tip your head down to inspect your gifted watch. In awe of this technical marvel that would make Siri look like it’s from the stone-ages. You wonder if she can boost your credit scores. She could probably hack any wi-fi password so you'd never have to worry about data throttling again. She could get you table reservations for Libertine! The possibilities are endless!

You turn to Miguel. "Can Lyla get me Beyoncé tickets?" you ask. 

He just shakes his head at you with what almost qualifies as an amused smile.

The room upstairs is massive. 

It’s easily three times the size of your little studio apartment, and the ceilings are twice as tall, with a hanging glass chandelier that’s sparkling bright enough to blind you. It looks like one of those places featured in Architectural Digest. 

Everything is in an art deco style, with expensive looking furniture and even more expensive art hanging on the one spare wall that isn’t covered in floor to ceiling windows. There are large shelves and a sleek looking kitchen, complete with an opulent looking velvet lounge chair of emerald green that looks like something a Roman emperor would be fed grapes on. 

In this colossal space of a room, there is only one bed. One colossal, plush-mattress-topped, goose down duvet and probably 1,000,000,000 thread count sheet covered bed.

You tense up, not sure what the arrangements Miguel had in mind. Did he want the two of you to sleep in the same bed?

Miguel did pay for the room, so you’re not going to start voicing objections. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time in the short time span that you two have known each other to do that. This bed is also a lot wider than your tiny double bed, so it wouldn’t be the cramped disaster it was last night. You’d just have to make sure to use the bathroom before bed this time so he doesn’t jab your full bladder in the morning again. 

Without saying anything, Miguel strides across the length of the room with impatient and determined steps. His hand reaches for the balcony doors and slides them open. 

"Wait wait, where are you going?" you ask him as you run up to the middle of the room. 

“I’m sleeping outside,” he says over his shoulder, and your mind boggles with that. 

“Why? Isn’t it better for you to stay here?”

"This is the 62nd floor. That’s about as safe as you’re going to get. I’ll keep a lookout to make sure no more helicopters come crashing in.” 

You’re not sure if he means the last part as a joke or not, but as you watch his broad back retreating as he walks away from you, a sickening sort of the deja vu twists through your chest. 

I can’t save you, he’d said back in your apartment, Nothing can. 

The feeling clawing at your chest feels alarmingly like panic. It screams that he’s leaving you. That he’s never coming back. That you’ll never see him again. 

You’re being irrational, and you know it. You remind yourself that he wouldn’t have done this much for you only to bail in the middle of the night, but that doesn’t stop the fear that’s festering, sharp and urgent, under your skin, or the way your heart races, your whole body flashing hot and cold at the same time. 

You want him to stay. 

“Miguel,” you call out, and he immediately stops and turns to look back at you, one eyebrow raised in a skeptical question. 

Please stay. 

You open your mouth, but the words won’t come out. You can’t ask this man—this big, sarcastic, rude hulk of a man—to have a sleepover with you because you’re scared to be alone in the dark. He would laugh you out of the hotel room.

“Uhm… thank you,” you say instead, but it’s no less sincere, “For everything.”

His eyes soften, the sharp narrowness of them easing up. “It’s fine,” he mumbles, and despite the cold chill of the evening, you think you can see a faint flush blooming in his cheeks, before he quickly ducks his face from you. “I’ll be right outside if something happens.” 

He turns back around and walks out, closing the patio doors with a gentle click behind him, leaving you by yourself. 

It’s quiet. 

You survey the empty room you’re in. Without Miguel’s large frame taking up space, it seems even bigger than it did before. 

It’s a beautiful room. Something that you’re pretty sure you’ve seen in a movie set. You don’t know why you’re not as excited as you were before. This is you living your Pretty Woman moment. You should be filling up the big jacuzzi tub you saw with bubbles. Heck, maybe ask Lyla to order you a bottle of champagne from room service. 

Instead, your eyes linger on the glass patio doors leading to the balcony terrace. You walk over to the bed, perching yourself down on the edge of the mattress, then flop down. 

Might as well try to sleep, you think to yourself as you climb under the covers and switch off the light. The best thing you can do right now is catch yourself some rest so you’ll be alert while trying to figure out your next steps tomorrow.

3 months… That’s what Miguel told you.

That’s all the time you have left. 

That means you don’t have time to waste, but you also have no idea where to start. The local library doesn’t exactly carry any resources on how to stop the universe from trying to kill you. 

The Universe. 

An infinite cosmos, grander than any human being can possibly comprehend. This vast space containing all the galaxies with its billions of stars and planets, where an individual being does not even register as a speck, and it wants you dead. How can you possibly fight against those odds? 

You lie wide-eyed and awake staring into the dark of the room, and the feeling of dread gnaws into you. 

You don’t want to be alone right now. Turning in the bed, your eyes find their way back to the blank slate of the pitched night outside the balcony doors. 

You really wished he had stayed with you. 

Sitting upright in the bed, you consider your options. You can lie back down. Suffer insomnia and the existential horror of knowing the universe is trying to murder you. Or you can man up, swallow down whatever tiny morsel of your pride you have left and ask Miguel to come back inside and stay with you. 

Flinging the duvet from your body, you get up to walk over to the balcony. You hesitate for a moment before tapping the window pane the way you might knock on a door, giving a polite head's up before you slide the balcony patio open. But when you poke your head out, turning your head left and right, Miguel's nowhere to be found. 

Okay, that’s weird. He said he’d be right outside if you needed him. You walk up to the ledge of the balcony terrace, leaning over the rail and peer down to see him dangling upside down, from the ledge of your balcony. The sight nearly makes you scream. 

"Miguel!” 

At you calling his name, he pulls himself up, one clawed hand gripping at the concrete wall as he climbs his way up and over to you. He makes it look easy, as if gravity does not exist for him, and it’s only a moment until he’s perched on the ledge of the balcony, facing you. 

“What’s wrong?” he demands, eyes concerned, and you’re suddenly aware of how very close he is. His face mere inches from yours, your noses nearly touching.

“What’s wrong? You’re hanging upside down from the 62nd floor! What are you, a bat?!"

“Why did you come out here?” he clarifies, and his words give you pause. You try to gather your thoughts after the bizarre sight you just walked into and remember what you came out here for. 

He’s still looking at you with his full and intense concentration that makes your skin prickle with warmth.

God, it’s embarrassing to ask. You feel like you’re five years old, asking your parents to turn the nightlight on, even though you know you’re a big girl now and aren’t supposed to be afraid of monsters hiding under your bed any more. 

You look down on your hands, where you’re wringing them together, then back up at him, and make yourself spit it out, "Could you… maybe… stay with me tonight?" 

His eyes widen at your question, but he doesn’t actually answer you and gives you no physical indication one way or the other. 

"I feel safer when you're with me,” you admit. 

“I am with you out here,” he counters, because of course he can’t make this easy for you.  

“I can’t see you out here.”

The line of his shoulder eases, and he ducks his head down with a resigned sigh. "Fine. Get back inside, Cielito. You're going to catch a cold like this."

You shuffle back inside to your bed, watching out of the corner of your eye as  he follows you inside and settles himself on the lounge sofa. He’s so tall that his feet are sticking out over the armrests, like a long-legged stork. 

Hiding a smile, you climb back into bed, wrapping the bedding all around yourself.

“Good night,” you call out, and he makes a grumpy noise of acknowledgment. 

Your head drops back onto the soft pillow, and you close your eyes, ready to sleep. It’s such a nice bed. The sheets are cool and soft against your skin and smell of fresh eucalyptus. The mattress is the most comfortable you ever remember resting on, firm but somehow soft at the same time. You feel like you’re sleeping on a cloud. 

Moments go by, and you revel in the sumptuous bed, waiting for the best sleep of your life to claim you. 

Except it doesn’t. 

Somehow… you still can’t fall asleep. Is it… too soft maybe? You turn in the bed, twisting your torso to get into a position you can comfortably sink into, but something doesn’t feel right. There’s no lumpiness like at home, but that should be a good thing. 

Except… despite the decadent softness of the bed. Despite the fact that the sheets probably have a thread count with more zeros than your checking and savings accounts combined. Despite all of the luxury that surrounds you, you still find yourself tossing and turning and wide fucking awake.

The bed is too big. You don’t know what to do with all this space. Your body is not accustomed to this sort of decadence. What if you suffocate sinking into this soft fluffy pillow in your sleep? What if you toss and turn until you fall off this massive bed and break your neck? Maybe that’s how out of all of the universe’s attempts to kill you, you end up dying? 

Fuck! 

You can’t sleep. 

You turn to your side and stare into the velvet lounge chaise on the opposite side of your room, where Miguel is. 

Quietly, you pad up to his still form until you’re standing in front of him and hunch over, trying to decide how rude it would be to wake him up again when there's nothing he can do about your stupid insomnia anyway.

In the dim light, you spot something glinting at you. Looking closer, you notice that the thin chain looped around his neck has escaped his shirt to pool on the fabric of the sofa cushion under him. You gently drag the loose end of the necklace toward you, and find a smooth golden band threaded onto it.

Picking it up cautiously, you flip it in your hand and find that there's something engraved on the inside.  It's hard to see in the darkness, but when you lean closer and squint your eyes, you can just make out what it says.

'MO'—undeniably the initials of one Miguel O'Hara.

Twisting the ring slightly, you find a tiny plus sign followed by your own initials, and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach.

Oh.

The memory of sitting across Miguel at Starbucks returns to you, when you had asked him who you were to him. You think of the avoidant gaze and how he couldn't look you in the eye.

‘Something like that,’ huh?

Guess the other you wasn't just his girlfriend after all, you think, chest drawn so tight it’s painful.

Holding the wedding band in the palm of your hand, you slide down to sit down on the floor with your back pressed against the chaise lounge.

Your heart aches for the man in front of you and everything he's lost.  You really, really hope you're not going to end up as just another regret on his list.

~ Next Issue

Dedication & Credits: As always to my best friend @thirstworldproblemss I am half asleep and running on fumes. I'm wording things poorly but I just want you to know that I am very happy I have you. Thank you for being my friend and for the time we get to spend together. I have the most fun when I'm with you.

Also to @guruan who is my muse, my source of inspiration. This chapter is dedicated to her because have you seen this beautiful piece of artwork she did for EYEM?!

[gladiatorcunt]

- LIFE OF THE PARTY | IX.

take a breath, you’re the

cw: kinktober prompt (non con-ish, more of the aftermath), past non con threesome (between 18 year olds) w/ suguru, coercion, mentions of blood and virginity loss, past bully-ish satory, frat boy!satoru + nanami, toji (who’s the same age), sukuna, choso, & suguru, goth & tatted reader who has a vagina, non con voyeurism (?) and video sharing, implied the rest of the boys x reader (choso a little more implied), being attracted to the man who assaulted you and making poor decisions out of a need for survival, ooc!satoru, non linear moments, dead dove do not eat

please do not repost, translate or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

TWO YEARS AGO | ????’s Dorm Bathroom

“I’m the one that stuck around after I got my dick wet.”

He should’ve told you that he loved you, he should’ve shoved Suguru off of you when he had his turn and bashed his head into the tile. He should've cleaned you up and cuddled you in a bubble bath back at his apartment. What he did was wipe up the copious amounts cum and saliva up with your underwear and it wasn’t until he turned around so you could get dressed that he noticed the blood. On the floor, on your panties, dripping off his still hard cock. Satoru didn’t get to care about his heart falling out of his ass and straight into hell, because how absurd is it that this is the moment when he finally understands that his actions have consequences. Toy trains don’t run anymore when you play with them so roughly that their wheels fall off.

“I didn’t go in raw with her, ‘s not like you, I couldn't even stay hard until I looked at the pic of you I have by my bed. I brought it over.”

So why did he look at your limp body and still expect you to move? Didn’t you notice that you weren’t alone? Do you not care? His brain hadn’t caught up with his body when he ruined everything, and he wishes he had your first time in a bed, filled with only him. You weren’t paying attention to him anymore and he couldn’t understand why that made him so angry. He didn’t need you, Gojo Satoru doesn’t need anybody. He made no effort to stop the mean whispers about you from his friend group and he didn’t apologize for the way he “bullied” you in high school for having a stalker-y crush on him when you saw each other at orientation. But you looked so beautiful then, you still did when you were shaking on the cold floor in front of him. Staring all bug eyed up at the flickering artificial light, he wanted to scream when he hovered over you and your eyes didn’t focus on him.

In hindsight, that was a lot of words to use when he only needed three.

Satoru has to belong to everybody, but nothing ever has to belong to him. He has privileges that he earns by simply existing, but it can all be taken away from him with a single order. Is it so bad that he held you so tightly your bones broke and your guts spilled in between his fingers? That he wanted to stick your cells under a microscope so he could know you more intimately than anyone ever could? From the very moment he met you, he could tell that you truly understood him, and who would ever want to give that up?

If being irresponsible with money means splurging on a tattoo to make yourself feel better when you should really be buying groceries? Then you’ll put the shoe on and won’t whine when it fits. You’ve been in a god awful slump lately. Your assignments barely get turned in on time and you go weeks without brushing your teeth because you can’t be bothered to get off your ass for two minutes. So when Choso updated his tattoo shops instagram saying that they’re available for bookings, you jumped on the opportunity.

It’s your favorite place anyway, and you wouldn’t feel as comfortable getting a tattoo from someone that wasn’t working there. Even Sukuna, who makes a big show of acting all tough but will let you get pieces done for free if they’re from him. He’ll drive you home on his bike when a session runs a little late and you’re worried about walking home alone.

You have a lot of fondness for the place and its people, except for a certain gage wearing individual, but you’re trying to repress all that. He definitely doesn’t make it easy for you, he’s somehow always able to know when you’re coming and gets himself in the receptionist’s chair so you have to talk to him. He stares you down with his empty black orbs the entire time during an appointment, and the veins in his arms bulge when you inhale as the needle pierces your skin. He makes “jokes” that he'd be so gentle with you if you let him, and you don’t have the heart to speak up over a stern “Suguru.” He raises his hands in surrender and backs off, because he knows there’s always next time.

You fumble through your bag as you prepare to leave your dorm, making sure you’ve got everything. Sunscreen to re apply over your makeup later? Check. Your phone (with several texts from an unknown number flashing on the screen)? Check. Your wallet stuffed to the brim with old receipts and cards that you probably keep at home? Check.

You get almost five steps out the door before you crash into a solid chest. Your ‘oof’ is muffled by the stranger’s shirt, and when you take a step back you recognize it as a compression shirt that's gotten popular with a lot of the guys on campus. That’s why the muscle you collided with felt particularly…. firm.

“Hi, cutie! Fancy seeing you here.” Satoru chuckles, like he isn’t literally outside your dorm.

And just like that, all the good vibes and hopes you had for your day shrivel up and die.

It’s a shame that Satoru does look good in the shirt, the black sleeves cut off at the perfect point on his arms and he’s been good at knowing which trends will suit him better than the millions of other people buying into them. His eyes stand out in the dark fabric, as blue as you remember them and as terrifying. You gape at him for what must be a solid minute before your features twist up into a scowl and you’re darting around him to walk away.

“I live here, now fuck off or kill yourself, I don’t care.” You shout over your shoulder, praying that he doesn’t take off after you.

“Aw, that’s mean, babe! But I know you’d miss me too much, so I won’t do either of those. Have a good day!” You don’t hear him leave as he responds, but you’re past the point of obsessively cataloging Satoru Gojo’s every movement.

Your roommate let him in, in more ways than one.

“Alright, there we go. You’re all set, i’ll meet you at the counter and we’ll get you out of here.” Choso touch is light as a feather as he does the cleaning on your freshly tattooed skin.

A skeletal pattern over your hand, knuckles and all.

The sound of him snapping his black glove against his wrist makes you jump but he smiles, doing it again with a tender look in his eyes. He wipes down your finished tattoo and you grab your bag, heading to the counter to pay.

“You took it really well, I should've known you would when you told me you came in for a tattoo on one of the most painful areas of your body on purpose.” Choso teases, punching in your card details at the front.

They run a small parlor and are usually short staffed since most of the employees are also in the biggest frat at school and end up doing most of their appointments in whatever room’s available at a party. The shop’s not the most legal operation in general, but Choso and the others all did their apprenticeships right at 18 so they could have a place of their own as soon as possible. And so they could do their own ink and jewelry for free. Sukuna, Toji, Suguru, all of them got their piercing licenses too. Nanami’s their accountant. Satoru’s really the only one who isn't directly involved with the place.

It’s bad enough that one of your attackers always has a chance of being here, but it’s cheap and you feel a sense of comfort with Choso. That familiarity might be why you end up paying a lot less than you should, but it gives you butterflies to consider that as a possibility.

“Yeah, is it bad that I just thought it was cool? I don’t have any symbolic connection to it or anything.” You joke, thinking about how your mom would always say she’d prefer a tiny one, a flower on your shoulder or something like that for your first tattoo.

You’re a free pieces deep, each one nothing like she would have picked for yourself. You started getting them after the… incident, and it’s incredible how freeing it can be to explore your style and have everything on your body be 100% your decision.

Sukuna, the one with the closest workstation to the counter snorts, “Choso did some nice work on you, kitty.”

You roll your eyes, Choso’s younger brother never fails to hit on you whenever you find your way back into their shop.

Toji, done with his tongue piercing appointment, steadies a hand on his woozy client’s shoulder and looks over to you. “Sure did, must be why Suguru can’t keep his beady orbs off of ya. Not that I blame him.”

You stiffen, feeling said man’s eyes slither up and down your body, leaving a trail of tar and molasses that keeps you from immediately bolting. A fly preserved in amber, encrusted in gnarled old tree bark.

You don’t look back over your shoulder at him but you hear him chuckle and swat Toji upside the head, “Nah, just got a lot on my mind is all. I’m double booked. Your tat’s cool though, wish i could’ve done it in my style.”

The ‘It probably would’ve looked better’ is left unsaid.

Choso raises an eyebrow and reaches out to grab your wrist as he hands back your card, he strokes a line down your pulse point

“I think I did just fine, I'm the one you keep coming back to anyway, no matter how painful it gets.”

He ducks his head down when your heart skips a beat, wrestling with his smug grin.

A stormy look comes over Suguru’s expression but it’s gone in a flash of purple lightning when his client walks in through the door.

It’s when you say a reluctant goodbye to Choso and leave the parlor to head towards the nearest grocery store that your phone goes off.

It’s from an unknown number but you know exactly who it is, you’ve blocked Satoru multiple times and he keeps coming back with a different number.

The message is a single video without an accompanying taunt, and you really shouldn’t, but your morbid curiosity wins out.

You notice your roommate's ankle bracelet slung over his shoulder very quickly, you also see more of her stretched out pussy than you ever wanted to.

Satoru chuckles behind the camera, zooming in on where their bodies are joined, he’s fucking her raw and her folds look startlingly red. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t bullshit through any bad dirty talk or narration for the audience (of one). A blessing, all things considered, he loved to yap your ears off when he took you. Satoru Gojo is rarely ever silent, even when deep down he doesn’t feel much like talking.

But he’s gone quiet as a church mouse, the only sounds coming from your phone are sticky smacks of bare flesh against bare flesh and your roommate’s muffled moans. Anytime she tries to scream, Satoru tightens his grip on her mouth and slaps her tits, which becomes a vicious cycle.

The video shows his torso at an angle, fat pecs and chiseled abs glistening as they clench. He has a fucking smoking hot body, one that you wish you weren’t forced to know more intimately than the girl who in that moment is currently all up on it.

You watch when she cums around him, a car running into a tree, but you click out of the video when Satoru cums inside her, a cargo train crashing through the car AND the tree.

Your mind is as scattered as those bits of debri and human flesh, welded to the tracks but you can feel movement above and around you.

Nanami’s hand cups your shoulder when you’re distracted during your study session later that day, he’s tutoring you in french for free and you’ve taken absolute advantage of the opportunity. It’s just one of those fuzzy days for you, especially since you can’t stop thinking of the video.

“Everything okay?” He murmurs, leaning closer with worry flickering in his warm eyes.

You nod and shrug your shoulders, “Yeah, just a little tired. Been really stressed lately.”

He wishes you would let him help with that.

Sometimes Satoru plops down on his ten thousand dollar leather couch and imagines what it would be like to kill Suguru. It’s what he should’ve done, years ago back in that dingy bathroom with a singular lightbulb that you could never quite tell if it was going to stay lit. He could’ve charged into the other man’s body and smashed his skull into the mirror until clumps of his black hair fell on the floor and blended in with shoddy tile work. All he’d be able to hear is your pitiful hiccups, his blood would be rushing to and fro in his ears. He would’ve

Other times, Satoru imagines what it would be like to kill himself. In front of you of course, because even if he’s doing it as a sacrifice to your shrine, you’d never forget him. Trauma can do funny things to your brain, if he left you alone you might hide him under several layers of heavy fog. If you won’t love him, at least let him be remembered by the only person he thinks he’s ever cared about. You’d be happy if he stayed away, but you wouldn’t be safe with anyone else but him, so he’ll take all the screaming and throwing shit at him that’s to come.

As long as the tiffany blue box tucked away in his nightstand isn’t one of those things.

It’s why he calls his usual people and pays a good chunk of cash to throw your roommate off their shoulders like a sack of potatoes and kill her somewhere private. He has a chemistry class in fifteen minutes, and a fraternity meeting right after. Satoru’s annoyed at having to make that long trek between buildings, but it’d probably be a good way to work the energy off. What’s-her-face was really starting to piss him off, snoring as loud as a vacuum cleaner on the pillow next to him. She couldn’t even make him cum, but that’s to be expected, she��s just not you.

He didn’t hit it raw though, that’s a privilege reserved solely for his (future) baby.

When he graduates, goes to dental school, and becomes a dentist, he thinks it’d be so romantic to be the one you went to. Cleaning your teeth, praising you for how well you’ve been brushing and flossing, leaning down for an upside down spider man kind of kiss when the appointment’s over. If you’re sporting a cute little rounded belly and an angelic glow during one of those appointments, well, don’t tell anybody what he needs to imagine to fall asleep with anything resembling a genuine smile.

Shit, he hopes Choso remembers to re-stock the orange juice and Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Nanami’s been pissed ever since Satoru finished them without asking, now they have to share the Captain Crunch Berries. Hiroguma doesn’t mind the turn of events. All Satoru can do is wonder which one you’d like more if you stayed over at the house.

“Shh, shh, shh. You’re alright, cutie. Just a little longer, this pussy’s so tight I'm gonna cream it in no time, ‘kay?” He whispers into your hair, his dick pistoning in and out of your sopping cunt, hunting you down even as he’s currently inside you.

He tells you these things, because of course Satoru Gojo knows you and your own body better than you do. The only time he’s ever touched it and it’s like this, violating you for his own pleasure and accidentally discovering what fuels yours along the way.

You’re crying, because he’s learned that despite your prickly personality you like soft touches and sweet words, but don’t hold it against him. He’s a horny teenage boy, it’s all trial and error. It could be a lot worse for you, he couldn’t not eaten you out first and just plowed your ass like he was gonna die tomorrow.

You feel like you might, watching your blood drip down onto the dirty bathroom tile, you’re a leaky faucet now. Rusted and having so little left to give but you keep on giving (and taking) because there’s nothing else you can do.

Satoru spills into your guts with no warning, fucking down into you like you’re nothing but a pocket pussy. You’re just so pretty, sobbing and clawing at his shoulders. He’ll wear the red scratch marks with pride, maybe ask Suguru to lick them and tell him what they taste like, share it with him to get the little remnants of your bitten nails down his throat.

He climbs off of you and picks up his phone, his fingers sticky with your juices make the device slip and slide in his grip but he manages to not drop it. You may as well be dead on the floor but Satoru’s too busy texting the video of what you just did to Suguru. He smirks and his cock twitches, imagining the look on his best friend’s face, the envy.

He never tells you if the goal was to make Suguru want to join, you never want to know.

When you come back, black and red rose petals poke out under your door.

You snap, slamming your door open and gawking at the audacity of Satoru Gojo, nestled on the covers of your bed like he was waiting for his baby to get home from a stressful day out in this big scary city.

You don’t remember the questions you ask even as you’re asking them, all you’re retaining is the blush on his face and how pretty his blue eyes are when he’s about to get everything under the sun because it might as well have a ‘Paid for by the Gojo Family’ plague on it.

You’re so fucking tired, and you put up a fight but that’s all out of you now. There are multiple ways to make something go away, like absorbing into your body so at least you’re partially in control.

“I’ll forgive you if you’re good and keep your filthy hands to yourself until I tell you otherwise, okay?”

He obeys and sits perched on the edge of the bed, watching as you hover above a glass dildo purposefully smaller than he is. You bite your lip, lubing it up until your hand is slippery and you keep losing your grip.

Satoru imagines this it at a frat party instead, and the music is pouring from the open windows as people fuck around outside and inside the house, drinking from cheap plastic cups and novelty shot glasses. He’d take your hand and lace his fingers through yours, taking you upstairs to his room.

Your rum and coke would loosen you up, and you’d grind in his bed to the beat bumping through the floor. Satoru would bury his face in your neck and beg you to let him touch you like he really wants to. You’d sigh and he’d grin, skirting his long fingers under the edge of your lace panties and fingering you right there before picking you up and throwing you flat on your back.

He’d promise he’d pull out, he thought he had more condoms in his nightstand, you wouldn’t care and would beg to stay inside no matter what. You’d have a little Toru Jr. a couple semesters later.

But that universe doesn’t exist. You’re riding a small toy to an unsatisfying orgasm and Satoru just has to sit there and watch you, leaving your clit neglected and your mouth unoccupied by his eager kisses. You spit at him that you should just pull the dildo out of you and ram it up his ass without warning, but he’s so desperate to chain you up and tie you down that he’d probably like it. You only want to do something he wouldn’t like right now, a swan song for your dignity and self respect. It’s been a few years since those things were once part of you too.

Your breath hitches and your eyes get teary, Satoru can’t help but to shuffle over to where you’re kneeling on the bed. You moan as his fingertips come into contact with your swollen clit, and laugh deliriously when he perks up like his dad just surprised with a new car to have someone else drive for him.

“So fucking typical.” You whine, bouncing on the dildo and wordlessly begging him to keep playing with your bud. “Can’t ever do something you don’t wanna do, always to be someone else’s job.”

The blinking light in the corner of your bookshelf will come in handy when Satoru’s fast asleep in your bed and you’re sending a video of your own to Suguru.

You’ll both wake up to someone furiously pounding on your door, the world will spin round and round only to end up at the same place.

A frown flickers across his face at the pure death in your tone. He wants to know your favorite colors and what you love to eat and what makes every stressor in life fade away, but all he knows is what you look like when you cry yourself to smithereens while you cum.

“You’re the best at everything, honey.” He softly chuckles, water laps at his hairline, he’s almost drowning.

That isn’t quite true clearly, you’re not the best at stopping yourself from being assaulted, like that’s something you be and therapy’s something you can win.

“Thank you, Toru. so are you.”

That is true, for better or for worse as the saying goes.

[trancylovecraft]

Omg your requests are open!! I hope I'm not too late, can you do L Lawliet Alphabet pls? (Any type i don't mind!)

(DEATHNOTE) YANDERE! L LAWLIET x READER: Yandere Alphabet

RECEIPT ✂- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

BARISTA'S NOTE: TIHUIFUIHIHF THANKS FOR THE REQUEST! (and sorry for the wait T-T) GENDER: Femme FANDOM: Death Note

Thank you for ordering!

Come back soon!

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

L himself would show his love in a very cold and distant manner. One minute he could be shoving you away, Another he's forcing you to sit in his lap, A plate of cake in his right hand while his left types away at his computer.

But no matter what it will always seem distant and detached, Never putting in much effort. Though mistaking that for carelessness wouldn't be a good observation..

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

As messy as he needs to be. L doesn't see the purpose in unnecessary violence. If he needs someone dead then he'll do it in the most efficient way possible to him. Though I wouldn't put it past him to say that there may be a sadistic streak if he was pushed a bit too far.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

He'll treat you coldly and methodically. When you're in captive you'll be treated like an animal in the zoo. Your needs will be carefully tended to every day, On a schedule, Tailored to your preferences and your general requirements.

I wouldn't say L would be cruel, However I would say he would be distant and your time in captivity will be VERY lonely.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Apart from the occasional affection- I'd say that you'd be under surveillance at all times, Your privacy being taken away from you. Even before you were taken you were monitored in your own home. In the bathroom.. The bedroom.. Everywhere.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

L bares absolutely none of his heart to you, At all. He doesn't show his emotions or feelings towards you in his body language, And barely his words too. Don't expect much emotional comfort from this man, He's.. Not exactly the best at giving it.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Annoyed. Or tired. If you tried fighting him then Watari would deal with you pretty swiftly, The old man having some surprising strength for his age. Even if you did get past Watari, L is pretty much a master in Brazilian jiu jitsu. You wouldn't even be able to touch L before you're dragged off back to your little cell.

L wouldn't even bat an eye, He'd just roll his eyes and continue on with his work.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

I wouldn't say it's a game for him, No, L wouldn't enjoy watching your escape at all. He'd be annoyed and rather irritated to be honest with you. By now, You should know that it's futile attempting to get away from him, So why do you keep trying?

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Drugged, Sedated, All of that business. When you're misbehaving too much he'd simply drug you to keep you calm and docile. Like an animal. That or when the loneliness finally gets to you and you break down sobbing in your little cell.

There's really a lot that could be considered the worst experience to be honest with you.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

You, Behaving and finally understanding that he just wants the best for you. Working as his assistant and his partner in future cases.

I wouldn't say L would want a family, But if you did, I don't think L would be opposed into being talked into it.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

At first, No, You wouldn't think L get's jealous. Or at least he doesn't show it. But on the inside? L is fuming, Though he certainly doesn't recognise it as jealousy. At first he tries to brush it off, But of course, If the person continues to stick around you then that's going to become a problem.

He simply knows that he does not like the person you are attentive to, And that he should get rid of them. As soon as possible.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Not much different to his usual self. Though he certainly feels much.. Better, When you're around. Maybe he's a little bit calmer, Or maybe a bit more patient or perhaps elated. Though you'd need to know him for a long time to even notice these changes.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Courting? Huh? You think L is gonna court you???

Well if you consider kidnapping and stalking to be courting then sure, But I don't see him interacting with you beforehand in a normal circumstance. Maybe if things were different he'd do what he did with Light and give himself a fake identity and befriend you, But I'd only see that happening if circumstances were unique.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Not really, To be honest. Unless you knew him for a long time and began to give into him, I doubt that he'd act any different around you. Though how he feels on the inside is a whole 'nother story.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Like a child having a tantrum. L would take away privileges if you acted out or tried to escape, And as I said previously, Would drug and sedate you if you got a bit too rowdy.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Not many, Except for your freedom and your access to people- Of course. L has the finances to provide you whatever you want. More space? Done. The food you want? Done. He'd even provide you internet access, All monitored though, Of course.

But of course, If you acted out he isn't opposed to taking away the rights he's left you with if you try to act out.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Inhumanly patient. L will wait years upon years upon years for you to finally accept your place here. He won't budge if you act out or try to fight him, Nor will he blow up or snap at you.

I don't see him having a breaking point, To be honest with you.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Sure. Maybe at first he'd be able to appear like he moved on. Go about his day. His detective work like nothing had happened.

But as the years pass by it slowly degrades at him, Rots away at him. That yearning, That love he had no idea he had for you. It'd drive him insane over the years, The one thing that gave him that euphoria he never knew he had.

He'd never be able to move on. And it might just be the end of him.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Not in the slightest, No. L wouldn't feel guilty. At the very most he'd be aware that what he was doing was selfish. But he wouldn't care and wouldn't let you go. Besides, He's taking care of all your needs, Right? Isn't that enough?

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

That inability to connect with other people, Understand others on an empathetic and emotional level. Even Watari, Who was basically his father. L never really had any idea what it was like to have a connection to someone purely built on a sense of empathy and relatability before you.

So of course, He acts accordingly.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He'd feel a little bit apathetic towards your crying and screaming, Knowing that you'd calm down after a while. Most he'd do for you is get Watari to bring you some tissues or even a little something to cheer you up like food or drink if he's in the mood.

Isolating yourself? Oh, No, No. You couldn't do that even if you tried. Even if he's not there in person, The dozens of cameras monitoring you is enough for him to stay close to you in spirit. You wouldn't be able to isolate yourself, As long as he's got an eye on you that is.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

L not showing his actual feelings through his demeanour. Definetly. While the classic yandere is driven quite boldly insane by their love for someone, L doesn't display that at all in his body language.

He's just as insane, If not a little more than the classic yandere though. Just not good at showing it.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Not much. The best I can give you is if L is invested in a case similar to the Kira one. If you play your cards right and bargain with someone like Light, Then maybe, Just maybe, You might have a chance.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Only if he deemed it COMPLETELY necessary, Otherwise. If you're not feeding yourself, If you're in a situation that requires it- L would hurt you. He might even feel a little bad about it, Too.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He wouldn't worship you like a deity but he would hold you higher in status above everyone else. You're more interesting, Better than the others. You certainly are the closest thing he'd consider to be sacred and the lengths he would go to win you over would be subtle but far.

He'd research everything about you, Everything you love and hate. He might not seem like the kinda guy to care, And honestly he doesn't think he is either.

But he wants you to love him back, No matter how much he denies it.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Maybe a few months, Maybe even a few years. He'll stalk you for as long as he feels like before taking you. Maybe a breaking point for him doing so being you getting a partner, Or if you got into some kind've danger.

It could take a good long while is what I'm tryna say.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

I can definetly see L doing so. Days in isolation in white padded walls will make just about anyone go a little bit bonkers in the head.

L would feel conflicted. One one hand you aren't putting up a fight anymore, But on the other you're just not you anymore. And L isn't sure which one he values more.

[peachhcs]

where did it go wrong?

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

samy tries reeling with everything a few days after the breakup in hopes that her brothers may have some advice for her.

2.2k words

i feel like i never write anything with samy and her brothers, so here's luke and quinn trying to comfort samy through the breakup that she's still trying to understand. p.s. these breakup posts aren't going to be posted in a set order, so i may jump around in the timeline a bit :p

au masterlist

samy flew home two days after the breakup. she didn’t want to crowd ryan’s house even when he told her she could stay for as long as she wanted (which in reality meant he wanted her to stay until her and will made up). the girl knew she needed to go, though. she wanted to be home with her brothers and family who she prayed wouldn’t give her shit when she told them what happened. she knew her brothers would want to give will hell, but samy had enough mind still to know that wasn’t fair. 

quinn, jack, and luke took themselves on a little fishing/camping expedition with their dad when samy got home, so she took those few days to just decompress and really comprehend everything that happened before those three bombarded her with a million questions. 

a tiny knock sounded on her door and then the heavy frame cracked open a few inches. ellen’s locks of blonde hair came in to check on her daughter. she knew she needed space, but mrs. hughes knew her kids well and when they needed her. 

“i made you some food downstairs,” ellen said gently. 

“thanks. i’m not that hungry right now,” samy managed a small smile even though they both knew it was fake. 

“how are you?” the older woman went to her daughter’s bed, sitting on the edge. the brunette shrugged. 

“i don’t know. weird? stupid?” a pitiful laugh fell from her lips. 

“oh, honey. you’re not stupid,” mrs. hughes wrapped samy into a tight hug which actually felt really nice. usually, samy wasn’t receptive to her parents’ touch, but right now she really needed it. 

“everything we’ve been through meant nothing to him. our friendship, ruined. i just..i don’t get what i did wrong,” the girl wanted to cry again despite her crying out everything she had the last two days. 

“no, no, you didn’t do anything wrong, baby. sometimes boys say one thing but they don’t actually mean it. maybe will’s just stressed about signing and it all came out the wrong way?” ellen tried. her words were genuine, but samy could never believe them knowing what her mom said was only trying to make her feel better. 

“it sounded like he meant everything he said. he couldn’t even look me in the eye, mom. i just..i feel so stupid and used,” her daughter’s words hurt ellen’s heart. the woman just squeezed her baby tighter in hopes that she could ease the pain that she knew all too well  being a teenager going through heartbreak. 

the hughes’ brothers came home that night. samy was fast asleep, but ellen kept herself awake in the living room having her late night tea. she smiled softly when all three of her boys came barreling into the room to greet her. 

“hey mom,” jack cheered, squeezing the older woman tightly. 

“hi, boys. how was your trip?” ellen beamed as she took turns giving out her “welcome home” hugs. 

“so great. we all caught massive 12 inchers. you should’ve seen them,” luke laughed as he dug for his phone to show the pictures. 

“they were massive! like this wide! never seen a fish so big like that before!” jack exclaimed before mrs. hughes quickly put a finger to her lips. 

“keep quiet. your sister’s asleep upstairs,” the boys immediately exchanged a glance. 

“samy’s here? i thought she was in boston for a few weeks?” quinn wondered. the look on their mom’s face quickly told them that wasn’t the case anymore and then the worry set in after. 

“it’s not my business to say, but your sister and will broke up,” ellen filled the boys in. 

a quick beat of silence passed between all of them before a “what” fell from luke’s lips. their mom’s tiny nod and wordless response told the boys that what they were hearing was in fact real. after that realization, their expressions twisted into shock. 

“wait, what happened? they broke up?” jack quickly asked for more details, but ellen shook her head. 

“i’m not gonna be the one to tell your sister’s business, but don’t bombard her tomorrow. she’s pretty beat up about it and i don’t want you harassing will either. let her tell you on her own time, promise?” ellen demanded knowing questions from them wouldn’t help.

the boys weren’t the greatest at minding their own business, but quinn, jack, and luke would comply since their own siblings rules were to not push one another into speaking about something if they did not want to. 

they just hoped this wasn’t as bad as it was sounding and their mom was making it out to be. 

—

the next day, luke found his sister first. he just woke up twenty minutes ago despite it being nearly 12 in the afternoon. as he trailed into the kitchen in search of food, he caught sight of samy sitting out on the back porch. the older boy debated for a second wondering if it was the right time to be asking, but he figured company wouldn’t hurt either way. 

he trailed outside with some cereal. samy gazed over at his warm smile while he took the chair next to hers. 

“mom said you guys caught big fish,” the girl began, managing a small smile.

“jesus, they were huge. i’ve never seen fish that big before,” luke laughed lightly. 

“i bet you dropped them,” the younger hughes teased making luke roll his eyes. 

“stop, i did not. you would’ve dropped them if you were there though,” the brunette smiled. 

“shut up,” samy rolled her eyes too. 

“wish you were there. would’ve been so fucking funny watching all four of us trying to camp together,” luke laughed again. his words made samy smile again before it slowly faded as her gaze fell on their yard. 

“yeah, me too,” she said quietly. her brother’s gaze fell on her as he studied her. he could tell how hurt she looked despite how much she tried hiding it. he didn’t know if it was appropriate bringing it up, but luke didn’t have to think much more because samy brought it up first. 

“i’m sure mom told you,” samy began. 

a small frown appeared on luke’s lips, “yeah..she did last night when we got home. i’m really, really sorry, samy.” 

“i don’t even know what happened. it looks like he doesn’t even fucking care after seeing his signing post,” the pictures dropped yesterday making will’s move to california official and the worst part of it all was how happy he looked in that fucking picture. 

“that can’t be true. he does care. he cares a lot about you,” luke tried. 

“not anymore, i guess. he said long distance wasn’t worth it for me and then everything between us meant nothing to him,” samy summed it up. luke’s jaw tightened hearing that. 

“he’s an idiot, samy. none of that is true, you know that.” 

all his sister could do was shrug because she thought she knew will like the back of her hand, but after what happened, she wasn’t quite sure anymore. he threw everything they had away just like that and now it looked like he was completely okay. a small sigh escaped luke’s lips seeing that he didn’t know what else to say besides how sorry he was for it. 

even he couldn’t believe will would do something like this. the boy’s known that kid his whole life and it looked like a lot was going to shift between everyone’s dynamic. 

“maybe you guys will be able to talk it out when july comes for the family vacation? like you guys just need some time apart or something to cool off a bit,” luke suggested a bit hopefully. 

“fuck, i forgot about that stupid vacaction. think mom would let me skip that?” samy groaned, head falling back out of frustration. 

seeing that reaction from her after samy always being excited for the hughes/smith vacation made luke realize how serious this breakup was. if samy was trying to get out of the vacation she’s loved for years, then maybe there wasn’t a chance of the two making up. 

“probably not, but i mean, it just happened. maybe things will feel different by the time july comes?” 

“are you for real trying to tell me how to feel about my boyfriend breaking up with me right now?” the younger hughes narrowed her eyes. 

“no, that’s not what i’m saying. i’m just saying that you guys were best friends. there’s history. that kind of shit can’t be thrown away that easily, no matter how much you wanna throw it away. plus, what happened to you guys staying friends even if you broke up?” the older boy inquired. 

“seems like that never mattered to him ever. this kind of thing can be thrown away, luke. just because we have history doesn’t mean it’s a fixer for everything.” 

luke backed off after that knowing he didn’t wanna argue with samy. Instead, he rubbed her shoulder in hopes that everything would work out and will and samy would be back to normal by the end of the summer. everyone had bumps in their relationships at one point or another. this was just a bump for the two. 

—

“if you’re out here to talk to me about my breakup, i’ve already heard it from mom and dad,” samy mumbled when she heard some footsteps behind her on the porch. they stopped momentarily, so she glanced over her shoulder to quinn frozen in place with two bowls in his hand. 

“i was just offering you some ice cream. i just picked it up,” the oldest hughes held the bowl out. samy studied her older brother for a moment as her expression softened out a bit. 

the breakup had made her a bit more meaner than she was before when she didn’t necessarily mean it. 

“oh, sorry. thank you,” she smiled. 

quinn took the spot beside her on the stairs as he handed her the bowl. the two didn’t speak much as they slowly ate their ice cream together and enjoying the sun slowing setting for the night. 

it was known that quinn wasn’t the one to pry into his siblings feelings. he always let them start speaking first if they even wanted to. the oldest hughes sat in the back more just happy to keep them company. they could hear jack and luke yelling at one another from the living room inside where they battled over some video game—one’s samy hated and quinn was a bit too old for. 

the comfortable silence lingered for a bit longer before samy decided to speak, “be honest with me quinn, do you think he was gonna break up with me all along?” 

her question caught the dark-haired guy off guard. he wasn’t expecting her to bring it up considering the two didn’t talk about feelings in this way with just each other before. 

“god, no. i never thought you guys would ever break up,” quinn said honestly. 

“then why do you think he did? i’ve been trying to run over every reason since i got home and i just..it doesn’t make sense to me,” samy frowned which in turn made quinn frown too. he always hated seeing his siblings sad. 

“when i was your age and got drafted i remember i had about a thousand thoughts running through my head at the idea of moving so far away from home at some point. the idea scared me, honestly. i’ve never been away from home like that. sometimes when people are going through these big changes, they make rash decisions thinking it’s for the best when it’s actually not. there’s a chance will could’ve been feeling..overwhelmed? scared? everything just came out the wrong way? i know those aren’t excuses, but big changes in people’s lives make them a totally different person,” the oldest hughes answered honestly. 

in some ways, he knew all too well about those feelings will could be feeling. moving to a new state anywhere far away from home sent a lot of anxiety into people when they didn’t even realize it. 

“i guess. i just feel so stupid. like why didn’t he talk to me more? why did he just choose this option first,” the girl mumbled. 

“it’s hard to say. i’m sorry this happened. breakups are the worst.” 

“how do you get over breakups?” samy wondered hoping quinn had some expert older brother advice that might make her feel better. 

“well, i’d usually head to the rink and shoot pucks around until i nearly broke my stick. i think getting any of your anger out is the first step to anything, then your mind will become a little more clear without the angry, rash decisions that you were just thinking of in the moment,” samy wondered why she didn’t go to quinn more often for advice. 

“okay mr. wise guy. i forgot being 24 makes you wise because your brain finished developing,” the brunette teased a bit earning a small eye roll from her brother. 

“i guess. i’m always here for you, yeah?” he nudged her leg with his own and samy nodded. 

“yeah, thanks quinny,” the siblings sat there for a little bit longer together with samy’s head on quinn’s shoulder. it wasn’t often they got to spend time together by themselves, so samy would savor it while she could before her oldest brother got whisked away again for hockey. 

[coff33andb00ks]

20 Oscar

20: pressing the other’s hand against their cheek

warnings: author doesn't understand the meaning of the word "short" and (badly written) descriptions of a wreck during a race (no injuries)

driver + number = drabble/short fic <3

Piastri just doesn't give a fuck.

Oscar is just too chill.

Does he ever show emotion except when he's laughing at Lando?

You try to stay out of comments. Hell, you try to stay off social media, it's nothing but a cesspool of people with too much time on their hands and not enough brain cells to comprehend more than the surface level of what they're shown. But sometimes you like it, because there are creative people who put out beautifully edited videos of your boyfriend. Sometimes you show them to him, enjoying his giggling while he watches and shakes his head over someone finding him attractive enough to warrant a thirty second video set to a Rihanna song.

But the comments about his emotionless black cat behavior hurt. He's so much more than how he portrays himself. He's vibrant and so full of life, and you will forever appreciate the people who see beyond his social anxiety and notice his amazing sense of humor, his passion for racing and life. They'll never know the real him and will probably never understand why you fell in love with him.

Him. The sweet and shy guy who'd come to your defense when a rude customer had been berating you over a wrong order. His voice had cut over her yelling, calm and measured, and after your manager had kicked out the irrationally angry woman it had been Oscar that had approached you to check on you, frowning when he saw your tears. His gentle tone had calmed you, his respectful stance had won your admiration, and his calling the woman a fucking cunt had made you smile.

You wish you could defend him as he continues to defend you. When a video questioning how a nobody like you had bagged a formula one rookie had gone somewhat viral he'd taken to twitter and unleashed such a beautifully worded rant that people were still quoting it more than a year later.

It's come to my attention that some so-called fans are referring to my girlfriend as a nobody. Allow me to introduce her to you. She's funny, she's brilliant, she's beautiful. She's every word you can think of to describe the perfect person and she's so much more. She shines light in the darkest corners of my soul. Her eyes are a map of my universe. When you look at us together, know that I am constantly trying to be worthy of the love she gives me, and know that if you speak ill of her you will never have my respect but you will have my disgust.

You would never ever doubt his love for you. Not that you ever had but that had cemented it. You could never come to his defense in such a way. If you even tried you'd be sneered at for being a try hard.

And really, you didn't need to. Because the one thing Oscar did not give a fuck about was anyone's opinion. Only a handful of people mattered enough to him for him to care what they thought. You were blessed to be included on that list.

You love him so much that for a while it scared you, having never fallen into the this one person is my moon and stars mindset. But now you understand. He didn't just hang them, he is your moon and stars. Your one and only and if for some reason this doesn't end in forever you'll be ruined for any other man.

It was still a shock, though, when you felt your heart stop beating as you watched his car careen towards the barrier. The front wing clipped Max's rear tire and you can't breathe, watching in slow motion as the brightly colored car tips and lifts into the air. There is nothing but absolute silence around you in the McLaren garage and you're frozen, staring at the monitor while his car flips and rolls, carbon fiber flying in every direction when it lands upside down, his helmet just visible as it slides to a stop at the safety fence.

Silence. Then pandemonium. Your world has just flipped and spun and you can't breathe, ears straining to hear him but you can only hear the crackle of the radio when Zak and Tom try to get him to respond.

Then, finally, his voice. Shaken and scared. "Are they okay? Please tell me they're okay."

Of course he'd ask after the others involved. You can finally breathe but it hurts, not knowing that he's okay. And you can't do anything but wait, heart barely beating until he's finally out, he's moving, he's giving the fans a thumbs up as he's put on the stretcher. You still can't do a thing and you've never felt more useless than you do while you're waiting just inside the medical center with Zak and Lando, who'd come to wait during the red flag.

Then the most beautiful words you've ever heard.

"He's okay."

There's more after that, about him being transported to the local hospital for a complete check, the possibility of a concussion but he's okay. And you're allowed to go see him while the ambulance is readied.

He's sitting up, looking a little pale but he's not hurt, he's in one piece, and when he sees you he gasps. You try to be gentle when you embrace him, but he steals your breath, holding you so tightly it hurts, his face pressed into your neck.

"They won't tell me - are Max and George okay?" His voice is strained and you feel his tears.

"They're fine, my love," you promise.

"I didn't mean for it to happen, I don't know what I did. I was going good and then I was upside down." His voice shakes and cracks and he's trembling, one hand fisting in your shirt. You reach for the other.

"Shh shh... It's okay my love," you whisper, your tears finally spilling when he guides your hand up, holding it to his cheek as he lets out a shaky breath. "Everyone's okay, you're okay."

His eyes meet yours and your world rights itself.

[petew21-blog]

Swap you face part 2

Archie frowned looking a bit paler than before:"So you're saying that doctor Brown is onto us and we gotta flee, is that what I think you're saying?"

"Pretty much"

"How would he prove we stole their bodies? Would he force you to switch clothes in front of everyone or what?"

"Have you performed any surgery recently? No. Neither have I, but these bodies have. So either we run away or we will have Hell of a complicated life. Or if you don't want this, I can go get your body. I'll switch you and your hell ends."

Archie was contemplating for a while watching his manly arms on his wide thighs. He looked up:"I don't want to leave. Please sort this out."

"Ok, so Dr. Brown is in my body. Dr. Kim now has yours. Meaning that I need part of my original clothing to swap myself and Dr. Brown. Then I'll just swap you with Dr. Kim. We already have their clothing. We can't go back to my house for the clothing cause my parents would freak if they saw two adults trying to enter their house for a piece of clothing of their sons. I'll leave for the hospital and get it. Ok?"

"Fine. Thank you. I'm really sorry, but it would be really stressful to just leave. I know you understand."

Don't get it wrong. I really wanted to follow the plan before. I went to get my clothes. But my body was sleeping, strapped to the bed. Then a handsome intern entered the room

"Good afternoon, Dr. Brown. I'm on your service today. We had to restrain the patient, he was showing signs of mental disorder claiming to be you. There is a bypass scheduled in OR 1 and OR 2 is waiting for you. Can I help you with anything sir?"

My mind was coming up with the most devious plan ever. But eventually it would make many people happy. Maybe except Dr. Brown.

"Come with me to the on-call room. I have to speak to you privately."

We entered the room

"Take off your shirt." I ordered him

"Sir, I am sorry, but I am not comftable doing that. Besides, I am in a relationship. You're a very handsome man, but this isn't gonna happen, sir."

"I am your attending. And as your attending I expect you to follow everything I tell you to do!"

He was visibly angry, but he proceeded

"Here you go." He said angrily and handed me the shirt.

I took off my own shirt and threw it at him, while taking his own. "You're about to get a very fast promotion." I put on his shirt. Changing my appearence yet again.

in front off me was the body of Dr. Brown. It seemed from the look of his face, that he understood the situation quite well. He seemed actually happy about it too. Smiling even. I mean it doesn't happen everyday that you become an attending from being an intern in just a few months

I smiled and waved at him:"Goodbye DR. BROWN!"

He just waved without saying a single word and just smiled. The last thing I saw was him unbotting his jeans

"So you're saying you put dr. Brown back in your body but you had to swap with this kid? How does that even happen?"

"First of all i"m an adult and an intern just as your body. Second of all, it happened fast after he wanted to get me for swapping with him. And third of all stop at this motel. We're far enough from them. We should rest."

We got ourselves a room. We decided to relax for a while and the figure out where we were gonna go. We were next to each other on the bed. I was enjoying my new smell of a younger man. Inhaling my armpit. Archie was still nervous. Maybe I shouldn't have swapped him and just continue this journey on my own. He is such a wreck when he is doing something out of his control.

"I'm gonna go to shower. Wanna come with me?" I asked. He said he needs some time to think, so I let him be.

I was so looking forward to this. Enjoying the new body. Now was the time to fully explore. I left the door open for Archie to observe in case he was interested. Taking off the trousers and my shirt, I was left with the view of my new manly, yet younger body than before.

I smiled at myself. "This is gonna be so much fun"

I entered the shower, turning on the hot water. The feeling of water running down over my pectorals and my slightly hairy torso, over to the abs and to my new beautiful cock. Dr. Brown was bigger, but damn, this guys dick is amazing. Looks like from a porno movie.

I started slowly. Picking up the pace. I didn't try to hold in me the moaning, but even that didn't invite Archie to join me. I tried to insert the fingers of my free hand into my anus. Maaan this guy is so tight. I continued until I found his prostate. Let me tell you that this was indeed the best orgasm so far. Even better than in Brown's body. I had to wash the wall of the shower because of how much of cum I released.

This power is so fucking amazing

I went out of the shower to find Archie still on the bed. I laid down on mine too.

"You're still upset?"

"I.... I don't know if I want this. I mean. It's one thing to swap around two doctor's bodies to fuck around. But we stole their life. Our lives are gone. And I mean... It's not too late to go back. Don't you think?"

"We can be anyone you know? We don't have to go back to our lives"

"But I want to be me. I like my life."

"Hmmm... well in that case..." I got up from my bed and showed visibly my frustration.

"Where are you going?"

"Ehm. I am gonna go for a walk now to think how I'm going to swap us back easily and not to screw anything else up."

"I'm sorry. It's just cause I feel so guilty."

"Yeah I know. It's fine. I'll be back in an hour."

Maybe it was horrible from me, but I still think leaving Archie in the motel was the best thing I could have done. He's got a new adult body and he needs to learn how to take care of himself. Yeah you guessed it. I wasn't planning on going back to that motel.

As for me. I wanna thake this body for a ride. I went to this bar a made a decision to hit on anyone who might have a car to get me further away. Maybe even take their lige. But I think I'll keep this guy for a loooong time

A cute nerdy guy approached looking sex starved. Well this should be interesting

Hey guys, I'm slowly working on your stories, but I gotta take care of some stuff in school. I'll try to write in my free time as much as possible to make your swap dreams come true. Byeee

Part 1:

[pickingupmymercedes]

Ways to say "I love you" part 2 - Lewis Hamilton

I think we all deserve a little something after the horror we went through in today's race ❤️

warnings: mentions of blood, accidents and bit of angst

wordcount: +2k

important: again, each drabble was writen as a snippet into different moments with Lewis. Special thank you for my 💗 anon for helping with some of the ideas

As always, my asks are open for corrections, ideas and just to chat too!

Over a cup of tea

“We need to talk this through, before it blows in our faces, Lewis” Serious expression on your face as you handed him the cup of tea on the balcony of your apartment overlooking London.

“Mhmm, we do?” He questioned confused.

“Yes…what exactly are we?” You couldn’t look him in the eye as you questioned him, too embarrassed you weren’t sure if what you felt the night before was real, even if come the morning he was still there, as he had been for the past two months.

“Those words last night meant nothing to you?”

“They meant the world, actually”

“But you don’t feel the same?” The confusion now passed on to him, forehead scrunching as he questioned if he hadn’t read your relationship right, and your body responding before your head could think it through as you reached for the hand he willingly let you take.

“I… I need to feel safe to say it back.” You responded after a few awkward seconds of silence as he waited for your response.      

“I want you, if you’ll have me. I really do love you. And you don’t need to say it back now, just let me know if this relationship is for real, because I want it to be.” He said looking into your eyes, anxiously waiting until you lifted your head to give you a smile.

“Thank you for understanding” You said buried into his neck as you took the tea away from his hands and brought him closer.    

Over a bottle of wine

“Found board games!” You excitedly exclaimed as you walked back into the house. Tiny feet stomping away and reaching you in seconds.

“Is there Monopoly? Uncle Lew said we could be here for daayssss” Willow was the first one to start taking the boxes as you handled her and Kaiden the pile you had just borrowed from the nearest neighbor

“Are they still stuck in New York?” You asked Lewis just as he set his phone down.

“Earliest forecast is tomorrow night, possibly” a concerned look to him as his mom and sisters got stuck in a snow storm on their way from England to Colorado.

“Guess we have these two to ourselves then”  

“Granny said it’d be good practice for you to take care of us” Kaiden chirped in but not fully aware of the shock in Lewis’ face at the remark.

“It’ll be fun when there’s two more girls to play with” This time Willow getting you to choke on the water you were drinking.

“Why two girls?” Lewis amusedly asked, aware you were still trying to hold the laughter in the kitchen

“Dunno” She simply shrugged as she helped her brother set up the game.

“Two girls, huh?! You know people say I’m a girl dad…” He brought back the subject as he picked up the mess left in the living room, a glass of wine open on the kitchen counter and two glasses already in your hands as you approached him after putting the kids to bed.  

“I think I’d be happy with that” Your soft smile easing the tension you felt in him as he mentioned kids with you for the first time, handing him his glass and dragging him to sit down on the sofa for a bit.

“I think I’d prefer a boy then a girl, you know, so he could be there for her.” He said after a bit of silence, almost as if he was pondering what would be best order, and you could feel the yearning to have kids of his own in his voice.  

“I agree with the internet people on that one, you’re too much of a girl dad, babe” You set your drink on the side table, cuddling closer to his chest as he pondered on his glass.

“Doesn’t really matter, honestly, just one would be more than enough. As long as I got you too”

As an apology

“What the hell was THAT for?” You threw your handbag and phone all the way across the kitchen island as you looked at Lewis standing at the door, an annoyed look to him.

“That guy shouldn’t have approached you” His mind still on the tall blue-eyed dude that tried to buy you a drink at the club.

“I can handle myself you know?! Never had the need for a knight in shining armor…” all your anger gone as you realized how absurd that sounded when said to your knighted boyfriend, a smile cracking the tough face you were fighting hard to keep.

“I love you, okay?! You may not need to be saved from a monster but you’re gonna have a knight by your side regardless.”

Taking the cue, he reached for you and brought you close by your waist, tucking one side of your hair behind your ear while using his other one to caress your check.

“Yes sir.” His sweet eyes turning into dark one as he heard you whisper the title and felt your hands rummage through his back. 

As a hello

You smelt his cologne before he walked back into the room from the bathroom, woody and citric tones overcoming your senses as a light tug at your exposed breasts demanded your attention back.

“Hey darling, you done there? Sure you don’t anymore?” The little fingers of your month-old baby girl clutching your fingers as you softly redirected her small mouth back to the spot her eyes wildly looked for.

“Gosh, I love you two so much” His remark a common occurrence in your daily routine in the bubble of nappies, changes and feeds your lives had turned into those past weeks, in the dead of the cold but sunny winter in Monaco.

“Hello to you too, hot stuff” he smiled back as you checked his toned abs adorned by the towel in his waist, sitting by your side in the headboard of your bed, hands caressing your thighs.

“You sure you’re going to be okay here this weekend?” Concern written all over his features as he stroked your daughter’s tiny legs.

“Your mom’s here, my mom’s here, we’re gonna be just fine Lew.” His eyes searching for any doubts in your mind.   

“I’m only a call away, okay?!” He whispered as he kissed your head, enjoying the last moments he would have with his little family for a few days before yet another season began. 

With a shuddering gasp

It’s funny how time really is relative, you thought as you slowly watched four cars pile onto each other in a traffic jam that had just about three other cars in front already. You weren’t even paying attention to the road before, only really looking up from your phone when your car suddenly swerved right and hit the grass on the side of the road.

“Are you okay y/n?” His whole body hovering over yours, hands already unbuckling your seatbelt as Lewis tried to grab your attention.

“C’mom babe, we need to get you out of the car, now” He tried again but you couldn’t respond back, still in shock from the near miss, your hands a wobbly mess as he squeezed it.

“I’m carrying you outside, okay?!” He didn’t even wait for a reply before lifting you like you weighed nothing, examining you in the process to check for anything hurt while he carried you to the rest of people waiting by the road.

It took a while, more than a few minutes for your eyes to start focusing back on your surroundings. He was knelt right in front of you, worry all over as he asked again and again if you were hurt.

“You saved us” You gasped quietly as your eyes finally reached his, his hands cupping your face the second he heard you, your lips already on his as you felt his arms taking you into his body.

In a letter

You’d been, since the beginning, the one he wanted, comings and goings through the years hadn’t been able to diminish the electric pull he felt whenever he saw your smile light up the room, even from afar. But as if the universe liked having a laugh at their expenses, time and time again you’d both find your lives going in complete opposite directions. So, as he sat in his desk writing his vows, he could only be amazed that by some miracle he had found his way into your life and into your heart.

“ … So, I vow to be your lover, companion, partner and ally. Through what may I promise to always be there. I might not have the answers or tools but I’ll walk with you, through the darkest of valleys or at the summit of our dreams.

I love you for you, because you give me the chance to be my truest self, because when you’re around I know we’ll find our way through. I love you, and from the moment I learned that, I’ve been giving it my all to be worthy of you.”

When the broken glass litters the floor

“Fuck, why did I do that?” Your exclamation coming out a bit louder than expected as your eyes started to water from the sharp pain in your hand, blood already dripping from the gush on the palm as you looked to the pieces of the glass on the floor.

“Babe? What’s happened, what was that noise?” His voice coming from just outside the bathroom door, fidgeting with the lock to try and get in.

“Please, let it be a good timing” Was all you could whisper to yourself, the knot in your throat almost suffocating you, the reality of it all too much to comprehend or process, your feet automatically swerving the glass and blood on the floor to get to the door.

“I hope you don’t have anything important going on in the next months” you said just as his eyes tried to scan you and the bathroom. His features with confusion all over as you handled him the stick with the 2 lines on them.

“What’s… but the doctor said…really?” You watched as all types of emotion tumbled across his eyes, overwhelmed an understatement to what you both felt at that moment.

You nodded just slightly after a few moments of his eyes questioning yours, the start of a smile forming on his lips as his arms reached you and engulfed you in a hug, crashing your injured hand in the process.

“Ouch, hand” He froze as you winced, putting two and two together, looking to the blood and the remains of the glass and seeing the injure on your palm for the first time.

“I do hope this kid takes after you and isn’t as clumsy” You pointed as he sat you down at the tub to check the cut. His smile reaching all the way to his eyes as he chuckled and looked at you.

“Nah, I hope this kid is every bit just like you.”

With no space left between us

You could feel his movements as he opened the parachute and brought you two back down to safe land, but nothing managed to tear your eyes from the immensity of the sky. There was infinity as long as your eyes could see and you were nothing in comparison, your thoughts long lost to the smallness of human race.

“You were awfully quiet up there, you good?” His voice a bit dry from the wind, your bodies tightened together as the guys got you both out of the mess of ropes.

“I think I’m still processing how small we really are” You answered almost to yourself, still trying to comprehend what you had just experienced.

“Another go at tandem is due then?” You saw the smirk in his face as you turned to look at him, his arms still very much wrapped around you and his fingers circling in your forearm.

“Thank you for dragging me out here, but how did you know I’d like skydiving?!” You reached back to his arms while they strapped you out of the seat, holding him closer, still with the ghost feeling of the wind around.

“I love you… that’s how I knew you’d love it.” He said to your hair as he held you to him, smug face as he reveled in the feeling of you.  

From very far away

The speakers blasted the victory song as each of the three drivers on the podium sprayed champagne around, everyone drenched and smiles thrown left and right, laughs being heard all the way around the Monza podium.  

As Lewis stood by the edge of the platform, he lifted his trophy at the sea of Tifosi, as a way to show appreciation for the support so far on the season and at his new home race, dedicating his win to them.

Turning to the pitlane he also pointed his trophy to the Ferrari team, scanning the crowd he found you at, just by Fred and Anthony, tears flowing down and a gleaming smile that could light up his entire soul. You tried mouthing something to him but he couldn’t quite make it out in the overwhelming state you were all in.

“I love you” he said to you, from the top of the podium, knowing that whatever it was you were saying, and whatever it was that happened, could be answered and resolved with those three words.