#i'd love to finish it off in the next few days

[moonshine-nightlight]

WIP Game

Who wants to help me write some Dale?

I'm trying to make a bunch of progress on my Dale side story (where they have an honest convo after the assassin incident and it gets spicy)

Send me a number between 50 and 200 and I’ll write that many words for Dale and post a sentence or two from what I wrote!

[lon3]

creamy miso pasta w/ chicken and mushrooms i made, bar hopping with friends, good fucking olives i bought with my gin, and boss let me use the private wine room

[tellthatbrokebitch]

pairings so far for the zombie au are: byler, hopclair (i think that's el and lucas' shipname???), eventual elumax bc ofc, ronance, vee poly with jargyle and stonathan, jopper, possibly dustin with an oc but almost might just leave him single but also that feels exclusionary but also they don't all NEED to be paired off but also-

[incognit0slut]

Hypothetically

Chronically single, you suggest a pact with your best friend to start a family together when you turn forty.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x bau fem reader

Category: fluff/comfort

Warnings: marriage and baby talk, reader is insecure because she feels left out

A/n: This is my entry for the kid fic challenge by @imagining-in-the-margins! This was like a breath of fresh air from all the smut I’ve been writing

"Do you want to have a baby with me?"

The scalding coffee burned his tongue as your question lingered in the air. Spencer cleared his throat awkwardly and patted his chest, his eyes drifting towards you. "Uh... what?"

"Hypothetically," you replied, the tap of your pen echoing against the round table between you. "It's like a pact. If we're both still single in the future, we get married to one another and, well, start a family together."

Spencer felt the clamminess of his palms as he set his mug down, trying to steady himself. He considered you as one of the closest people in his life, if not his best friend, and he was accustomed to your random questions, but this sudden topic of conversation seemed to strike a nerve.

"Where..." he began, wiping his palm along his pants. "...where is this coming from?"

You shrugged casually, the tapping of your pen momentarily ceasing. "Just a thought. I mean, we're both at that age where these things start to cross our minds, right?"

Spencer swallowed, trying to push down the unease rising in his chest. "Yeah, I guess so," he muttered, but as he studied you, he noticed the tension in your shoulders. "Are you okay?"

Your gaze flickered away for a moment before you sighed, slumping against your chair.

"I have a wedding coming up this weekend." Spencer frowned, not understanding what you were trying to say. You continued, "And another one next week, and guess what? Two of my cousins are getting married next month."

"What does that have to do with...?" His voice trailed off as realization dawned on him. "Ah, I see."

But you weren't finished. Somehow, the thoughts that had lingered in your mind for the past few days spilled out right then and there, in the middle of broad daylight when you were supposed to be focusing on the case you were working on.

"And a close friend I went to high school with just gave birth while another friend from college announced she's two months pregnant. And look at me," you exclaimed, your arms flying around. "No wedding. No pregnancy. Spencer, I don't even have a boyfriend, heck, I forgot what it's like to go out on a date!"

He watched as your brow furrowed into a frown, and although your demeanor was all over the place, he couldn't help but notice how you still managed to look pretty.

"Spence?" You asked, nudging his leg with your foot under the table. "Are you listening to me?"

He blinked, momentarily pulled from his thoughts by your voice. "Sorry," he replied. "I'm listening."

You gave him a skeptical look, but the tension in your shoulders seemed to ease slightly as you leaned back in your chair.

"I just... I don't know, I feel like I'm left behind." You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "I mean, I'm happy for my friends and all, but sometimes it feels like everyone's moving forward but me. Like I'm stuck in this... this rut."

Spencer wasn't sure how to respond. On one hand, he knew how it felt to want something that seemed out of reach, but on the other hand, he felt like it wasn't his place to offer advice when he wasn't even sure what the future held for him.

"I get it," he finally said, trying to gather his thoughts. The least he could do was try to offer some comfort. "But just because you haven't reached those milestones yet doesn't mean you won't get there eventually."

"But what if it doesn't happen? What if I'm still all alone and nobody loves me when I'm gray and old?"

He frowned at you. "I'd still love you when you're gray and old."

"Platonically. You love me as much as you love JJ. Or Emily. Or Penny, or even Morgan." You leaned over the table. "I want to be loved passionately by someone who is head over heels for me, who can't imagine a life without me. I want to feel that kind of happiness."

His frown deepened. "I don't think you should find happiness in another person."

"You're missing the point," you groaned, crossing your arms. "I'm not saying I want to depend on someone else for my happiness. But is it too much to ask for someone to share it with? To feel like I'm someone's everything and not just another friend in the group?"

His expression softened as he listened, a sense of familiarity washing over him. He remembered feeling the same thing once, or maybe more than once; he wasn't sure. He had lost count of the times he felt his life was falling short.

But he realized the more he thought about the why—why was he so different? why couldn't he find love?—the more he felt worthless, and he hated that. So what was the best thing he did to ignore those thoughts?

Bury himself in work, because to him, pushing those feelings aside was easier than confronting them. But now, as he looked at you, it felt like he was seeing his own reflection and your words hit him harder than he expected.

"No," he quietly agreed. "It's not too much to ask for."

"I guess what I'm trying to say is... I'm tired of waiting for life to happen to me." Your gaze slowly met his. "So I came up with a plan."

His throat felt dry as he recalled how this conversation started in the first place. "The... baby plan?"

You nodded enthusiastically, sliding into the seat next to him.

"Think about it. If we're both still single when we're..." You paused, furrowing your brow as you did a quick calculation. "Forty? Yeah, let's say we're both still single when we're forty, with no partners, or like, no friends with benefits?"

You shook your head.

“Just... with no one in our lives—we get married. You and me."

He blinked, trying to process your proposal. It was unexpected, to say the least, but there was a strange logic to it that he couldn't quite shake. The idea of marrying his best friend as a backup plan was both absurd and oddly comforting.

"But what about... love?" he asked cautiously. "Wasn't that what you wanted?"

You paused, considering his question before responding. "I mean, I don't think it's impossible," you said, leaning back in your seat. "Haven't you ever heard of the saying, 'Marry your best friend'?"

His gaze lingered on you, his heart beating hard against his chest. "You're saying that we can fall in love?"

Your eyes met his, and a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Who knows?" you replied softly. "Stranger things have happened."

Spencer shouldn't entertain the possibility. After all, who knew what could happen in the future? It seemed like an absurd thought, but as he stared at you, it was hard not to imagine a life with you as his wife.

He imagined you in a white dress, walking down the aisle towards him with a radiant smile on your face. He pictured you both in the house you had just bought, dancing joyfully around the empty rooms as you unpacked boxes together.

Then thoughts of you being pregnant with his child—or maybe even children—filled his mind, and he envisioned a future where your kids would run around in the backyard with a pet dog trailing behind.

And then he considered the prospect of growing old with you, watching as your children eventually started families of their own while you found comfort in each other's company. All of these possibilities didn't seem so bad, because if anyone could understand him on a deep level, it was definitely you.

Maybe this crazy plan of yours wasn't so crazy after all.

"I... I guess it's not impossible," he finally admitted. Then, not wanting to seem too eager, he added, "Hypothetically speaking."

"Of course," you replied with a smile. "Hypothetically speaking."

Suddenly feeling flustered by your gaze, Spencer looked away and focused on his coffee, bringing the mug to his lips. Then you heard laughter and footsteps drawing closer, and soon Derek and Emily entered the room. Their eyes immediately landed on the two of you, sitting closely together at the table.

"What are you children whispering about?" Derek's voice interrupted, his eyebrows raised curiously as he glanced between you.

You didn't miss a beat. “Spencer and I are having a baby together."

Spencer choked on his coffee, his eyes widening in shock as he coughed and sputtered. You quickly moved to pat his back.

"Well, we're gonna get married first, right, Spence?" you added with a grin, glancing at him expectantly.

Spencer finally managed to regain his composure, clearing his throat awkwardly as he shot you a sideways glance. "Um, yeah, of course," he stammered, his cheeks still tinged with embarrassment. "Hypothetically."

Derek and Emily exchanged bemused glances, a silent conversation passing between them. Emily's curiosity seemed to win out as she lifted a hand, turning her attention back to you. "Care to explain?"

"We were discussing our backup plan."

"Backup plan?" Derek echoed. 

"Yeah," you replied with a nod. "In case neither of us finds the right person by the time we're, oh, I don't know, forty or so, we figured we'd marry each other and start a family."

Derek placed a hand over his chest, feigning hurt. "And you chose Pretty Boy over me?"

"I'm not going to compete with all your lady friends," you shot back, rising from your seat. "Come on, Spence, let's grab some lunch and brainstorm baby names."

He stood up, giving you a pointed look.

"Or do you want to discuss how we'd make those babies in the future?"

"Well, I was thinking of Amelia if it's a girl..."

You grinned, linking your arm through his before guiding him towards the door. Derek and Emily observed the natural closeness between you two, how you were practically clinging to him and how he seemed to be comfortable with it.

Derek turned to Emily as you disappeared down the hallway. "Do you think they'd actually get married when they hit forty?"

Emily shook her head. "Nope," she replied confidently. "I give it a year until he's already down on one knee."

He laughed, nodding in agreement. With the way Spencer's gaze lingered on you with unmistakable affection, it seemed like it was only a matter of time.

[criminalamnesia]

Stay

warnings: enemies to friends, hinted enemies to lovers, Tyler’s sister!reader, mean!scott, bickering, very real tornado danger, mentions of a car crash and physical injuries, not proofread, f!reader

summary: the three time you see storm par’s one and only scott, including the one in which he saves your life.

author’s note: look at me, finally writing something again! I’ve been extremely busy and, truthfully, in a writers slump. I started writing this after seeing twisters, and I just got the motivation to come back and finish it. I’ve been obsessed with this man since that movie, and good lord do we need more fics of him. anyways, enjoy! (also, for my traitor fans— I haven’t forgotten about you! I hope to work on the next part soon!)

the first time you’d seen scott, you’d wanted to break his jaw, and you hadn't even gotten his name.

“get lost on the way to the hillbilly convention?”

his tone is snarky, his eyes full of disdain as he watched you slide out of tyler’s truck.

your eyes had widened, your spine straightening as you registered his unprovoked hostility.

“the fuck is your problem?” you ask, eyes narrowing as you come back to your senses. you look him up and down, huffing a laugh at his clothes.

“you look like you’re going to a fuckin’ business meeting.” you say, coming to a stop in front of him. your cowboy boots dig into the dirt, and the sun beats down on your face.

perfect day for storm chasing, as your brother had said. darkening clouds rolled in the distance, and the wind was steadily picking up. according to lilly's drone data and tyler's instincts, your first chase would occur sometime within the next few hours.

you had been away at college when tyler’s tornado-chasing YouTube channel took off. you’d always loved the thrill of being close to the storms, but even when you came home to visit during summers, tyler refused to let you tag along.

until now, that is. now that you’ve graduated with a degree in meteorology, just like him. he had always accused you of wanting to follow in his footsteps.

“don’t mind storm par over there,” comes your brother’s drawl as he appears beside you, a hand coming down to rest on your shoulder. “the stick up his ass seems to have been lodged a little deeper recently. you’ll get used to it,” tyler grins, barking a laugh at the brunette's scowl.

"haven't seen you before," another man moves to stand beside the brunette. he's also wearing storm par gear, and you watch as him and the taller man share an unreadable glance.

"she's new," tyler responds for you, his wide grin still present as he acknowledges the shorter man with the tip of his hat.

"i'd run while you can, sweetheart," the taller one says, a look of pity in his eyes as he looks back to you. "fucking him isn't worth dying over."

you stare at the man for a moment before bursting into laughter. the storm par pair's eyes both widen, their stares moving from your hysterics, to tyler's rolled eyes, and then to each other.

"you two are supposed to be scientists, huh? the guys who are gonna 'tame tornadoes?'" you throw the last two words in air quotes as your laughter subsides.

the shorter of the two men nods, while the taller opens his mouth once more. "that's right. while you morons are out trying to get yourselves killed, we'll be busy doing shit that actually matters."

"right, right," you nod along, glee shining in your eyes as you stare at the taller one. "you must be so smart, then. where'd you get your degree?"

"MIT," he says smugly, popping the gum in his mouth.

"MIT, wow," you whistle, your eyes finding your brother's. tyler just shakes his head, trying and failing to suppress his laughter.

"you got a degree from MIT, and you're too stupid to tell that he-" you jab a finger towards tyler. "is my fucking brother?"

the man's smug grin instantly falls as his eyes scan you, then tyler, and then fall back onto you. tyler steps forward, smacking a hand on the man's shoulder with a laugh.

"meet my little sister, storm par. may not have gotten a degree from MIT," he says, tipping his cowboy hat to you. you mime tipping an invisible hat back at him. "but she seems to be a hell of a lot smarter than you."

the second time you see scott, you still don't learn his name.

"jesus christ, this thing is huge!" you yelp as tyler swerves the truck back onto the dirt road. he scowls as the storm par truck ahead of him jerks back and forth on the path, blocking his approach.

"how's the wind lookin'?" he asks, his words clipped as his hands grip the wheel tighter. wheat fields ripple on both sides of the road, an ocean of tan as the sky continues to darken.

"pickin' back up," you tell him, glancing down at the laptop in your lap. it was displaying real-time data of the atmospheric conditions. the software had cost a pretty penny, but had been worth it. plus, it had been more than covered by tyler's t-shirt sales. cheesy or not, tyler’s face on a shirt was worth his weight in gold to his followers.

tyler groans as the white truck in front of him cuts him off again.

"ty, just go around!" you yell at him, your eyes widening as you stare out of the passenger side window. the clouds overhead were beginning to swirl.

"i'm tryin' to drive nice," he tells you through gritted teeth. "don't wanna make you sick-" he begins, but you roll your eyes and reach over, jerking the wheel. the car swerves off the road and into the ditch beside it, and tyler scrambles to avoid hitting a wire fence as he swats at your hand.

"what the fuck?!" he yells at you, his eyes cutting to you for a second before focusing back on the road.

"stop tryin' to baby me!" you tell him. "show these storm par pricks what we're made of."

tyler falls silent, clearly debating his next move. you're about to grab the wheel again when his foot slams down on the gas and the truck lurches forward. you cheer, throwing a fist in the air as you laugh with glee.

"just don't tell mom!" he says to you, laughing along.

as the truck speeds forwards, tyler lets off the gas just enough to keep speed with the storm par truck. you lean past him to get a look into the cab, and there's the brunette you'd had the displeasure of meeting a few days ago.

you can see his scowl from here, and your grin is wide as you hold your middle finger up, waving it around to make sure he couldn't miss it. his scowl deepens, and before he can even think of responding to the gesture, tyler hits the gas again.

"what was that for?" your brother asks as you lean back into you seat.

you shrug. "just havin' fun."

the third time you see scott, he saves your life.

it's a week after the middle-finger incident. although storm par and your brother's wranglers have been following the same storms, you haven't had the pleasure of bothering the tall brunette, much less seeing him. you’d caught glimpses, but he seemed to be keeping his distance. you supposed he’d finally grown tired of your constant teasing.

you don't know why you find yourself caring. he's an asshole. an asshole who hates you, your brother, and everything the two of you stand for. who constantly underestimates and looks down on you.

and yet you miss his scowl and the unmistakable pop of his bubblegum.

"hey, you okay over there?" boone asks as he leans over the center console, his head peeking out between the two front seats. you know the question is directed at you, as boone is watching you like a hawk.

"yeah, fine," you shrug, your eyebrows furrowed as you lean down, getting closer to the screen of your laptop.

"ty, turn the music down for a sec," you tell him, and he listens without protest. a rare occurrence, but now wasn't the time for bickering.

what had first appeared to be a measly EF1 had begun to grow. it wasn't dying out, and things were starting to get scarily real as moisture kept feeding into the funnel miles ahead of you.

"this thing isn't stopping," you tell the two men. "you need to tell the rv to turn around. hell, we should turn around."

boone shakes his head, leaning further into your space. his eyes scan your computer screen, and although he's learned a lot from tyler, he still doesn't see what you see.

"nah, it's gonna be fine. ty said it's gonna die out anyways, right? we just need to get in it before it does."

"boone," you warn, turning in your seat to face him. "love you, but shut the fuck up right now." you reach out a hand and grip tyler's arm.

"ty, I mean it."

rain starts pelting the windshield. you can hear the wind howling outside of the truck, and you shudder as hail begins to pound against metal.

tyler mumbles something under his breath as he kicks the windshield wipers up to maximum speed. "you sure?" he finally says.

he turns to look at you as you nod, and those precious seconds are all it takes for the world to spin on its axis.

a fence post slams through the windshield as rain and hail continue to obscure the world around you. you scream and tyler jerks the wheel out of instinct. the truck turns sharply, running off the road. your stomach drops as the truck drops and rises again- your own personal rollercoaster from hell.

"tyler!" you yell, gripping the straps of the harness holding you in.

"workin' on it!" he responds, jerking the wheel the other way. the truck rights itself back on the road, and you close your eyes as adrenaline rushes through your veins.

fuck, the others-

"boone, tell the others to turn around now!" you yell at him, and he's nodding frantically from his seat in the back, his hands fumbling for the walkie talkie in the floor.

"so much for an EF1!" tyler says, and although his tone sounds easy, his face betrays him. you can see the glimpse of fear in his eyes. it mirrors your own.

"yeah, ri-" you begin, but the sentence never fully forms.

you black out as another car slams into the passenger side of the truck.

"c'mon, get up!"

everything feels fuzzy. your head is pounding, and your ears are ringing. pain shoots through your body, engulfing every inch of skin. you think something has to be broken, judging from the numbness you feel on the right side of your body.

"get up!"

your eyes begin to crack open, but your vision is blurry. someone is a few feet in front of you, but you can't make out who it is.

"for fuck's sake-" the voice growls, and you can just hear the faint crunching of glass before your hearing comes back in full force.

the wind is an unbearable howl, and the rain and hail pounding down around you make hearing your own thoughts almost impossible-

your thoughts. what had happened? one second, you're driving and then-

fuck. tyler. boone. where were they?

your eyes shoot open, your body jerking against the harness still keeping you strapped to the leather passenger seat.

you look to your left- to the driver's side- but tyler isn't there. you try to turn you head to see into the back, but a sharp pain in your neck quickly stops you.

"tyler?!" you yell, but your voice is carried off by the wind. you can't even hear your own words.

"boone?!"

"they're fine!" a voice calls to you, and your gaze shoots back to the driver's side. you can see a man crouching by the driver's now blown-out window�� which is upside down.

you were upside down. the truck had rolled with the impact of whatever had hit you. everything comes back with devastating clarity, and even though adrenaline pumps through your veins, the pain is beginning to become unbearable.

“can you move?” the voice says. you can’t tell who it is through the spots in your vision and the sheets of rain still coming down.

“I-” you start, pushing your chest against the harness. “I think so.”

“good,” you recognize it as a man’s voice. “then hurry the fuck up and get out!”

under different circumstances, you would’ve scoffed at the order, but now wasn’t the time for defiance. your life was literally on the line, and if you didn’t get to shelter before the tornado engulfed you—

well, you didn’t want to think about that.

you force your brain to gather itself, directing your thoughts toward moving your aching limbs. your left arm is the only one that responds, coming to fumble with the metal buckles of the harness.

the first one unclasps and you swear you could cry from relief.

“any day now!” the man calls, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. you reach your left hand across your torso, working at the clasp on your right side.

“im trying!” you call back. once you get it undone, your arms fall downward as gravity claims them. you groan in pain as your right arm shifts. something is definitely broken, but you can’t afford to give into the pain at the moment.

you reach for the lap belt, tugging at it with a shaking hand. the wind continues to howl around you, and you feel tears pricking the corners of your eyes. hopelessness begins to eat away at you as you try and try again to undo the lap belt, to no avail.

“it’s stuck!” you call out, hoping the man can hear you. “I can’t get out!”

your breathing is picking up. your chest feels tight, and the feeling you still have in your left hand ebbs as you begin to panic.

you don’t want to die. you know that. it scares you shitless.

but you don’t want anyone else to die, either.

you’re stuck. whoever is outside of the truck isn’t. he should run while he can—

“hold on!” you’re jarred from your thoughts as a figure begins to crawl through the hole left by the blown-out window, and that’s when you register your savior.

it’s him, the brunette from storm par. the man who belittled you, who rolled his eyes at every sentence you spoke, and who you somehow found yourself missing.

he’s crawling into the cab, his arms no doubt suffering cuts from the shattered glass littering his path. “I’ve got you,” he calls to you, and when your eyes meet his, there’s no look of disdain. there’s thinly veiled terror.

“you need to leave me,” you tell him, and you can’t tell if the wetness on your face is from your tears or the rain that’s now blowing sideways into the destroyed truck.

“shut the fuck up,” he tells you, groaning as he slices his forearm on a jagged piece of metal.

“im serious,” you reply, your left hand still fumbling with the belt restraining you. “I can’t feel my right side—”

“will you shut up? please?” he heaves out, his face inches from yours now as he reaches for the lap belt.

you fall silent, but not because you’re heeding his demands. no, you’re too busy examining his face. he’s never been this close to you, and you’re taking in every little detail before death comes to sweep you up.

can’t blame a girl for wanting to gawk at a handsome man in her final minutes, can you?

“stop staring at me,” he grits out, his forearm flexing as he tugs at the lap belt. something has the fabric trapped, and although he’s freeing it inch by inch, you’re not sure if—

the belt gives, and his arms leave your lap to cushion your fall, protecting your head from slamming into the metal below you.

he doesn’t say anything, but you watch as his gaze flits over your right side. stone cold as ever, his expression gives nothing away regarding your physical state. you can’t bring yourself to look down.

“im gonna pull you out, okay?” he says, and you absently nod your head. the pain is heavier now— harder to push away. your vision swims as he hooks his arms under yours and shuffles back on his knees.

agony spreads through your thoughts as the numbness gives way to excruciating pain. your eyelids flutter, but the man doesn’t stop. he grunts as he pulls you forward again, slowly but surely removing you from the truck.

“you need to leave me,” you tell him again, your teeth biting into your bottom lip to stifle a scream of pain. “im not going to be able to walk. I’ll just slow you down—”

“jesus christ, you don’t listen, do you? im not leaving you here to die.”

he finally makes his way out of the wreckage, pulling you with him. once you’re free of the ruined truck, he stands on shaky legs— fighting to maintain balance as the wind whips across his figure. he reaches down, scooping you up in his bloody arms, and starts to run as best he can. the rain is so thick you can’t even see a foot in front of you, let alone where he’s taking you.

lightning cracks overhead, followed by thunder so loud it shakes your shattered bones. your head tilts up to the sky, and you watch in horror at what was once an EF1 tornado races toward you. it’s got to be an EF4 by now— maybe even a 5 based off its sheer size.

“drop me!” you screech, your working hand clutching the soaked fabric of his storm par shirt.

if he hears you, he pays you no mind as he continues to struggle against the wind.

with your eyes focused on the impending doom behind you, you don’t even realize when he reaches his destination. he jumps down into a deep ditch, and you hear him groan as his feet hit the ground. he must be hurt, too.

“is she alright?” a voice calls, and your eyes widen as boone comes into view, a large cut across his forehead that looks like it definitely needs stitches.

“not the time!” the storm par man shouts, ducking behind your friend. your eyes catch boone’s over his shoulder, and you give your fellow storm chaser a weak wink. boone’s lips crack into a wide smile, even amidst this horrible storm.

the brunette carrying you falls to his knees, laying your back against muddied dirt. he refuses to let you go, his arms cradling you against his chest as he shelters you with his own body. there’s nothing to hold onto except for him, and you know if the tornado gets any closer, you’ll both be goners.

you close your eyes tightly, welcoming your end despite your overwhelming fear— but it never comes.

you pry your eyes open as the sounds of wind and rain finally begin to subside. the body above yours still clutches you tightly.

“are we alive?” your voice comes out a whisper. your left hand flexes against the man’s chest, and sure enough, it meets a solid body. he’s not an imagination— he’s real. you’re still here.

“yes,” his chest rumbles with the words, and his arms slowly snake out from under you as he sits back on his haunches. his eyes are locked on yours, his icy blues unreadable as he watches your face.

you don’t say anything for a moment. and then,

“you’re the stupidest son of a bitch I’ve ever met.”

his eyes widen in surprise, and his stern facade cracks for the first time— at least, that you’ve seen— and he chuckles.

the bubble surrounding you two quickly pops as tyler’s voice meets your ears. you turn your head and there he is— your brother, running towards you with relief written all over his face.

“oh, thank god,” he says, throwing himself to his knees and scooping you up in a hug. you hiss in pain and he pulls back, his hands on your shoulders as he looks you up and down with a grimace.

“you took the worst of it. those storm par pricks—” his eyes cut to your savior, who is still sitting nearby, watching the two of you. “hit us. you and boone were knocked out, and you were stuck, so I got him first and was coming back, but—”

“ty,” you interrupt, your left hand landing atop one of his. “it’s okay. im okay. we’re okay.”

tyler takes a deep breath and nods, his eyes flitting back down your body, focusing on your right leg. you follow his gaze, grimacing at the unnatural twist of the limb. no wonder it had gone numb.

“I’ve had worse,” you tell him, taking notice of your limp, lacerated right arm.

“now’s not the time to play hero,” your brother chastises, standing up before reaching down and picking you up. your eyes meet your savior’s once more. he’s standing now, too, his arms crossed over his chest as he matches your gaze.

“guess we owe you a thanks, clipboard. and you owe us a new truck.” tyler says, to which the brunette rolls his eyes.

“ty,” you roll your eyes, too, as you keep your gaze locked with the brunette’s. “ignore my brother. thank you for saving my life….” you trail off, realizing, truly realizing for the first time that you don’t know his name.

“scott.” he tells you. you nod.

“thank you, scott.”

he nods back, turning his back to you as he starts to limp back to the road your vehicles had been abandoned at. you doubted they would still be there.

just as you’re about to look away from his retreating form, he glances over his shoulder and gives you a true, sweetly small, smile.

maybe storm par isn’t so bad after all.

[f1fantasys]

Only Mine

Summary - Lando giving you a necklace with his number. Find Charles' version here

Warnings - explicit smut, blowjob, fingering, oral sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, swearing.

'Baby?'' Lando called out to you while you were finishing off your makeup in the bathroom.

''Yeah Lan?'' you replied, walking up to him and wrapping your arms around him from behind. He was standing in front of the floor length mirror in your bedroom.

You rest your chin on his shoulder and looked at him through the mirror. ''Missed you'' you whispered.

You really did miss him. He'd just gotten back from the Chinese and Japanese races which you couldn't go to because of work, so 3 weeks away from each other had you both on edge.

''And i missed you too, which is why i got you a gift'' he said, taking your hands in his and walking to you sit on the bed.

''Oooh i like gifts!'' you excitedly joked.

''Trust me baby, I know'' he smirked.

He opened his drawer and pulled out a long box before sitting next to you and handing it to you.

Intrigued, you took it from him but not before pecking his nose.

You carefully opened it to reveal a gorgeous, dainty gold necklace, but what caught you eye was the pendant in the middle.

It was the word ''four'' etched out with tiny diamonds covering it.

Your breath hitched as you looked up at Lando, your heart fluttering.

He smiled at you. ''Just want you to always remember you're mine, only fucking mine''

''Lan, it's so beautiful, thank you'' you said, launching yourself at him for a tight hug.

He hugged you back before you pulled away and looked at it again. It really was beautiful, but then something else caught your eye.

The word was cut out in handwriting that you knew all too well - it was Landos'.

''Baby, this is your writing. How did you do this?''

''Yes it is, but that's a story for another day. I hope you like it'' he cooed.

''I do, going to wear it everyday. And i love you''

''Love you too sweets''

Lando pulled you in for a kiss which started slow and gentle but very quickly turned sloppy and desperate.

You granted him access as he slid his tongue into your mouth, causing you to suck it for a while as his hands roamed your body.

He pulled you onto his lap and started groping your ass, while you tried to grind down on him.

But you had to stop this from going any further - you had a dinner with friends to get to, and you didn't wanna just have a quick fuck.

''Lando wait. Later. Dinner. Friends'' you mumbled.

''Fuck them'' he said, showing no intentions of slowing down.

''Hmm, I'd rather you fuck me, but later. Come on'' you said, detaching yourself from him and standing up, though your core was screaming in anger, clenching around nothing.

Lando groaned. ''Ugh y/n''

The dinner started off well. You were celebrating a friends' birthday so their was a large group of you. Of course, Lando's hand found homage on your thigh for the whole night, itching closer to where you craved him the most.

You tried to distract yourself by following conversations that were going around the table, which was working until Lando decided to let his fingers slip past your panties and run through your folds.

The action had you jumping in your seat, a flurry of confused eyes looking at you, until he said he kicked you by accident.

Fortunately for you, or unfortunately for Lando, it was soon time to leave and head to the club for a few drinks.

You tried to make up an excuse to go home, but your friends weren't buying it, so here you were being forced to down a few drinks and dance the night away.

You actually were both having fun - you with the girls and Lando with the guys, gossiping and talking shit, dancing crazy to the music on at Jimmy'z, until you went to the bar to get another drink.

A guy - who was at the dinner as well, a friend of a friend, stood beside you and tried to make conversation. He had being giving you weird glances all night, smirking at only you, which you tried to brush off. Right now, you wasted no time in making it obvious that you didn't want to interact with him.

He wasn't budging though, and he was inching closer to you in the limited space. You tried to search the crowd for your boyfriend- or anyone else for that matter but everyone was caught up doing their own thing that no one saw your eyes begging for help.

He looked at your neck and obviously saw your necklace, and putting on a fake, sarcastic laugh.

''Lando Norris huh? Really?''

You looked at him, your eyes throwing daggers at him. ''What's that supposed to mean?'' you asked.

''Well, for starters, he's such a fucking useless driver. Bet i can do better than him and win a race. And baby you can surely do better than a man like him''

You hated when people down talked Lando like this. He was one of the best fucking in drivers in the world and 2 bad races do not define him. And what the fuck does he mean you can do better than someone like Lando?

You took you necklace in your hand and squeezed it tight, somehow trying to draw power from it to tell this guy to fuck off. But he started talking again.

''Bet he doesn't even know how to fuck you properly, bet you can't even make you cum. Let me show you how a night of passion should be' he rambled on.

By now you were seeing red.

''Seriously you need to fucking stop talking right now. I don't owe you anything but I will tell you that you are wrong. Lando is the most talented fucking driver on that grid, and for your information, he fucks me better than you could ever fuck yourself''

Just as you finished saying that Lando appeared by your side. His face laced with confusion as he took your one hand in his and then noticed how you were clinging into the necklace.

''Y/n'' he said. ''What's going on?'' he said, looking at the guy now, throwing his own daggers at him because you wouldn't be pissed off for no reason.

''Oh nothing, just a low life who thinks he knows shit, trying to interfere with our lives, but really just needs to fuck off'' you spat.

''Oh please, what are you guys? 12 years old that you have to wear a piece of jewelry to show off?'' the guy spat back.

Now it was Lando's turn to see red.

''Listen, this is the exact reason she's wearing it. To show losers like you that she's mine, and not yours. So fuck off before I do something you'll regret'' Lando shouted over the music.

You won't lie - hearing him claim you as his and saying he got you that necklace so everyone knew that your only his had turned you on more than it should have.

You squeezed his hand, not bothering to pay any attention to the guy again.

''Lan, take me home please'' you said, rubbing your lips together.

His anger faded when he looked at you and smiled. ''Gladly'' he said, before throwing one last dagger at that stupid man.

You rushed out of the club hand in hand. Lando never let go while waiting for the valet to bring his car over.

The ride home was palpable with tension. Neither of you saying a word but stealing glances at each other ever so often.

Thinking you were being discreet, you started rubbing your thighs together - trying to get some relief to your aching core.

He didn't miss that action though. He settled his hand on your thigh again and squeezed it.

''Wait til we're home baby. I''ll take care of you'' he whispered.

As Lando parked and stopped the engine, he made way to open his door though you stopped him.

Unbuckling your belt you got onto your knees on your seat as best you could in the small car and leaned over. You quickly unbuttoned his shirt before leaning forward and taking one of his nipples into your mouth.

He hissed at the contact. ''Fuck y/n'' he panted as he held your hair out of your face, pulling at it, hard.

You bit and sucked at it while you hand snaked down to unbutton his jeans and slide into his boxers. He was already half hard so when you pulled his dick out it was already standing stern, begging for attention.

You continued to lick a stripe down his torso, stopping to peck his moles, as you pumped him a few times, using your thumb to spread his pre-cum over his slit.

Just as you were about to take him into your mouth Lando pulled your head up to give you a dirty kiss, forcing his tongue into your mouth.

You moaned into the kiss, goosebumps appearing on your skin at just how rough he was.

''You're only mine y/n, never forget that. And next time someone behaves like that, kick him in the balls'' he said, pulling back and looking into your eyes.

Before you could even respond, Lando was pushing you head down and his dick in your mouth, making you bop up and down his length.

You deep throated him straightaway - his tip hitting the back of your throat causing you to gag.

''Yes baby, that's it, taking me so fucking well'' he said as he continued to fuck himself into your mouth.

You moaned at him - words of encouragement always turning you on even more.

''You like that, don't you? Taking my thick girth down the back of your throat so good like that''

You moaned again and pulled up for some air.

Lando watched how your spit was dripping down your chin and he couldn't help but lick some of it off of you before pushing you down on him again.

You could his dick start to twitch in your mouth - his own movements becoming sloppy.

''Fuck me, y/n, not gonna last baby. Gonna cum now'' he grunted through gritted teeth.

And he did. Sheets of warm and salty cum shot in your mouth as he pulled harder on your hair.

You rode him through his orgasm, sucking on his tip before pulling off completely, breath heavy as you looked at him.

He cupped your face and chuckled lightly.

''What?'' you asked, curious as to what his answer would be.

''Who knew an asshole like that would lead to me earning the best head you've ever given me?'' he whispered.

''Fuck Lan, need to feel you in me now!'' you said, already climbing out of the car and running towards the front door of your penthouse.

Lando followed you and as soon as the door was shut he had you against it.

Crashing his lips to yours with an urgency while his hands ripped your dress off of you. You couldn't care less about it. All you knew was you needed to feel him everywhere.

You'd not worn a bra tonight so it was easy for Lando to bend down and latch his mouth to your nipple. Biting and sucking at it, showing it no mercy while his hand massaged your other boob.

You held onto his hair as he sank lower and lower down your torso, eventually settling at his knees.

He pryed your legs open, sliding your tiny panties down them before he attacked your pussy with his lips.

''Fuck Lando'' you panted, your back arching off the door as your pulled on his hair harder.

He wasted no time in finding your clit and kitty licking it with the tongue, while his eyes never left yours.

''Hmm yes, please'' you begged him, not sure what for.

He pulled your pussy apart with both hands, allowing his tongue to slide in with ease through your entrance, before replacing it with two fingers, thrusting in and out of you.

Your nails were now digging into his shoulders, probably leaving purple marks for tomorrow. Your way of showing everyone he was yours..

He set a quick pace, curling his fingers at just the right time for you to feel your orgasm approaching.

''Lan, gonna cum'' you said through bated breaths, and in no time you were gushing your sweet liquid all over his face, his tongue trying to lick and swallow it all while you were a moaning mess above him.

Your legs, definitely like jelly by now, started to give way but Lando quickly stood up and held you up, before jolting you up over his shoulders and walking towards your bedroom.

''So pretty my love'' he whispered, more to himself, as he dropped you on the bed.

You whined. ''You're still wearing too many clothes'' you said as you sat on your knees and helped him work off his shirt and jeans, stripping his boxers off.

His cock bounced freely, already hard and aching for more. He pumped himself a few times while looking at you watch his actions.

'''Ready baby?'' he asked, though he knew the answer already.

''Fuck me now, please'' you begged again.

Lando pushed you to lay down and placed your legs over his shoulders as he lined himself up with your dripping pussy.

''Remember babygirl, you asked for it, yeah?''

All you could do was nod embarrassingly eagerly, as he thrust his whole dick in you at one go.

Normally he'd give you time to adjust to the intrusion, but on nights like this when you were both riled up, there was no holding back.

You palmed your breast as he fucked into you at a relentless pace, both your moans filling the room, loud enough for people walking on the streets to hear.

''So fucking tight baby, taking me so well. God you feel so amazing'' he muttered through his moans before he leaned down to adorn your neck with enough hickeys to last a month.

''Lan, Lando, Harder, deeper, please'' you edged him on.

Within minutes your body was shaking and trembling below him, your orgasm washing over you violently.

''Fuck me'' he mumbled, his hands now finding your waist and ramming into you with just as much force.

You dug your nails into his biceps, begging him for to stop - or for more - you weren't sure.

Suddenly, you got an idea, so with whatever energy you had, you pushed Lando off you so that he was now laying down.

You quickly climbed on top of him and sank down again, gripping at his abs and setting a quick pace. You watched as he licked his lips and smiled to yourself as his eyes shifted from yours down to your neck.

The necklace

Shining bright and looking beautiful as every on you - this was the reaction you wanted. His eyes grew shades darker and you watched as his breath hitched and he bit down on his lower lip.

You couldn't help but let out a few moans.

''Like what you see baby?'' you asked innocently.

It was as if you tapped him out of his daydream as his eyes found yours again and gave you the biggest boyish grin you'd seen in a long time.

''You fucking know it'' he smirked, now lifting himself up to thrust into you.

You leaned forward so the necklace was now dangling right in front of his face, going crazy with the movements of both your bodies.

Lando leaned up a bit and took it into his mouth, sucking it while his eyes remained your yours above him.

That action alone shot another orgasm through your body, shuddering and closing your eyes to calm your breathing as you felt your cum sliding out of you with each thrust Lando was giving you.

''Mother of fucks this is incredible'' you say incoherently as Lando slides out of you and pushes you back down, pulling your whole body to the edge of the bed where he is now standing and lining up with you again.

He thrust in, holding your legs out the way while watching you face contort with pain and pleasure, both your breaths reaching new heights.

''How did i get so lucky. The prettiest, more intelligent girl out there and best of all the one who fucks me the best. Y/n, you're something else'' he said, clearly now chasing his own orgasm as he was becoming sloppy and could barely hold himself up.

You were too fucked out to know what was happening to be honest.

So you let him have his way with you. You did feel as his thumb found your clit and started circling it.

''Gonna cum for me again? Hmm baby? Got one more in you?'' he asked, not that you had a choice.

Words had long left your brain, so you just let out a series of moans to pleasure his ears, while the sound of your bodies slamming together pleasured yours.

You opened your eyes and saw how Lando let his spit drip from his mouth down to the place you were joined, sliding around his dick and disappearing into your cunt.

''Lan I'm done, gonna cum'' you panted, eyes shutting at how sore you actually were now.

''Do it y/n, let it out'' he said.

And just as you moaned out his name when you felt your orgasm ripping through you, you felt ropes of warm cum filling you up and painting your inner walls white, his dick twitching uncontrollably inside of you.

''Fuck me'' he said as you pulled him down to let his weight fall on you.

The both of you were so zoned out, neither making a move to get up and clean up.

You just held each other, trying to calm your breaths, shivering at the cool air now drying the sweat that was covering you.

Lando felt himself soften inside of you so he slowly slid out - you whined at the loss of contact.

''Be back now, let me clean you up'' he said, running to the bathroom.

You sat up and looked down, seeing the mixture of juices slide out of you had you scooping some up on your finger, just as Lando returned with a warm towel.

Just as you were about to put your digit into your mouth, he moved quickly to lean down and take your finger into his mouth instead.

''Uh, Lan!'' you whined, watching as he sucked on your finger.

He swallowed and smirked at you.

''Sorry baby, it just looked so fucking hot''

You pouted at him but watched as he leaned down further and licked more that was dripping out of you before leaning up and prying your mouth open to drip it into.

''There'' he said, and you couldn't help but smile at him.

After cleaning up and climbing into bed together - you wearing nothing but some lacy panties and a certain piece of jewelry - Lando pulled you into his side and held you close, pecking your nose.

''I love you baby'' he whispered.

''Love you too handsome'' you replied back, you fingers playing with the necklace.

''Thank you again for this Lan. I love it, and it will always tell me - and others - that I'm yours and only yours'' you said.

''Only mine, babygirl''

Requests are open for Lando and Charles!!

[cjlouwho]

“Hey, Cutie. What's your name?”

Buck stopped digging to look up at the man, using the back of his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead. “Buck,” he replied simply, sucking in a deep breath.

“Buck?” he questioned. “Just Buck?”

Buck sighed. “Evan Buckley. Most people call me Buck.”

The man smiled. “Evan's nice. I like Evan. I'm gonna call you Evan.”

“My boyfriend's really the only one who does that.”

The man stepped closer, invading Buck's personal space. “You're already taken?”

“I- I am,” Buck replied, tripping over his words. Now that he was closer, this man did have some beautiful blue eyes. They nearly stared right into his soul.

“Hm.” The man shook his head. “That's a shame,” he looked Buck up and down. “You're really... really hot.”

“Pr- Probably from the wildfire th- that's nearby.”

The man laughed. Damn, even his laugh did something to Buck. “Maybe,” he shrugged. “But I think you'd look good no matter what.”

“I really, um, I need to get back to digging, so the fire doesn't spread.”

“Looks like you could use a break to me.” The man pulled a bottle of water from his pocket, and the sight of it nearly made Buck's dry mouth start to water. “Ice cold, just for you.”

And well, it would almost be rude not to take the water. So he did.

He twisted the cap off and drank nearly half the bottle down. He couldn't help but notice the man watched every gulp, staring at his throat like he wanted to lick the sweat right off.

“Thank you,” Buck said once he finished. He went to hand the bottle back, but the man shook his head.

“That's yours,” he said. “Can't have a man as handsome as you passing out from dehydration. Someone may have to give you mouth to mouth.”

Buck swallowed hard. “Th- Then why'd you give me the water?”

Buck watched the man's blue eyes darken, his breathing picking up. He reached out, tugging on the collar of Buck's wildland gear to fix it. “You've gotta be careful, Evan. I don't usually go for taken men, but I might have to change my mind.” His hand slowly ran down Buck's chest as he pulled away from him.

Buck's breath hitched. He couldn't look away from this man. Couldn't help all the feelings bubbling up deep in his gut. “I... I don't even know your name.”

“Might be better that way,” the man replied, taking another step closer. His eyes moved down to Buck's lips. “I'll be able to remember you forever, and you can go back to your boyfriend and forget I ever existed.”

“I- I don't know if I could do that.”

“What? Go back to your boyfriend? Or forget me? Cause-”

“Dear God,” Eddie interrupted, exasperated. “You know other people can hear you, right? Get a room, or better yet, get a truck. I'll cover for you if it'll get you two to stop... whatever the hell this is.”

Buck sighed, resting a hand on his hip as he turned to Eddie. “We were just getting to the good part.”

“You've done this before?!” he exclaimed.

“Two days ago,” Hen informed him as she passed by. She gave a wave to the man. “Hey, Tommy.”

“Hi, Hen. Eddie,” he greeted with a nod and a smile.

Eddie groaned. “You two are pathetic.”

“Oh, are they doing that weird roleplay thing again?” Chimney asked as he walked up beside Eddie.

“You've heard it too?”

“I think half the firefighters in the county have heard it by now.”

“Three weeks!” Buck reminded them, holding up three fingers for emphasis. “We've been here for three weeks without more than a few seconds alone. Let me have this.”

Eddie raised his hands in surrender. “I'm gonna go get me a water since, apparently, it doesn't matter if I pass out from dehydration.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “I'll bring you a water next time.”

“What about me?” Chimney asked. “Because, if I remember right, you'll have to give me mouth to mouth if I fall to the ground.”

“I will bring everyone water next time.” Tommy spoke loudly, so everyone around could hear.

“That's better,” Chimney said. He patted Eddie on the shoulder. “Come on, let's give the lovebirds a minute.”

Tommy turned back to Buck. “As much as I'd love to finish the scene,” he said once the others had walked away, “I do have to go. I told my group I'd only be five minutes.”

Buck couldn't help his pout, but he also knew he had to get back to work too. “When we get home, if we ever get to go home, we're not putting on clothes for three days.”

Tommy smiled, nose scrunching up. “Deal,” he agreed. He leaned in and gave Buck a quick peck on the lips. “I gotta go. Love you, Cutie,” he said with a wink.

Before he could walk off, Buck grabbed his turnouts and pulled Tommy back for one more kiss before letting him go. “Love you too. Be safe.”

[inbabylontheywept]

Weird Grandpa Dale Story #1

The day started with me digging up cactus. Grandpa Dale had a weird beef with cactuses, bad enough to pay me 10 cents for every pound I turned in. Looking back at it, I think they offended him because they could exist without his consent: They didn't need his water, they didn't need his fertilizer, and they certainly didn't need his permission. 

And that, he simply could not abide. 

Grandpa Dale had been doing something weird that whole morning. I knew because I'd been able to watch him since sunrise. Every time I took a break from digging cactus to look back at the house, I saw him doing something with the gopher holes. 

That made me nervous. Things never went well when he started messing with the gophers.  Earlier that month he'd tried gassing them out, and all he got from that effort was nasty looking blisters up both arms. He almost never complained about anything, but he griped all day about how bad those blisters hurt. When his wife suggested that he go to the hospital he said No, what am I gonna tell them? That my trench got overrun? They wouldn't buy that. They'd think I was cooking meth. 

Which was funny to hear, but also, true, and also, enough for me to know better than to get involved in future gopher battles. 

Which is to admit that I did get involved. But I should've known better. A few hours in, he invited me over, gave me a cold soda, and showed me what he had set up: Two camping chairs, a wicked sharp shovel, a car battery, and a long length of copper wire leading to a pit he'd dug in the middle of the yard. Told me that if I stayed a bit and took a break, cooled down there with a soda in the shade, I'd see something amazing. I asked him if there was even a chance I could get hurt by this "something amazing", and he said "no," which I knew was a bald faced lie. But I believed him because I wanted to believe him. Because I wanted to know what he'd done, and I wanted to sit there in the shade with my grandpa. I also figured, hey, maybe getting gassed taught him a lesson. 

(Never, ever assume that the kind of person willing to break out chemical weapons against gophers is capable of being taught a lesson.) 

So I sat down in my chair and he beamed at that. He loved having an audience. Then I watched him lean forward and tap the ends of the wire against the battery terminals.

And that's where everything went wrong.  

The first thing that hit me was the yard itself. Little bits of sand and grit flying fast enough to hit my skin and bite. It took a year and change for all the little bits to work their way out. But I didn't even feel it at the time, because of what happened after. 

I genuinely think he'd imagined the gophers getting launched out of the holes, disoriented but alive. I think that shovel was there to finish them off afterwards. Which also would've been traumatizing, but probably less so than watching each of those cute little gopher holes projectile vomit bloody piles of tattered critter all over the lawn. 

Which, spoiler alert, is exactly what happened. The sky fell down, and the ground flew up, and the gophers found themselves with nowhere to go. So they did the next best thing and went a little bit everywhere.

I don't think it was actually silent afterwards, but I couldn't hear shit. There was just this long, ringing period of us looking at each other, then the meat piles, then the lawn crater, then the big buckled section of yard that looked oddly like Rockies just behind us, then back to each other. 

I think I did that two or three times before I felt my shoulders start to shake a little. I was crying. Felt weird to cry and not be able to hear it. Like a tic almost, or the way your body seizes up right before you puke. 

And then I looked at his face, and I saw him mouth a single soundless word: 

Shit.

[ariestrxsh]

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 content warning: smut, some fluff, some angst, mommy kink, edging, handjob, sub!virgin!matt, experienced!pervy!reader

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 author's note: here are parts one, two, and three to me & u. 💖 thanks for being patient with me while i took so long to get this out, and there will be a part five to this story in the near future.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 summary: while spending time with matt, you start to find out more about his past, which leads to your first disagreement with one another.

me & u part four

"What if I came and cleaned it up for you with my mouth?" You said in a sultry tone through the phone. You smirked at Matt through the window after you watched him finish using his new sex toy, but he'd already grabbed an old t-shirt and was wiping up the mess he made.

"I'll tell you what. You can clean up the next one," he said in a breathy voice on the other end of the line. "I'd be honored," you replied, squeezing your thighs together to relieve some of the tension you were feeling.

"I'd love it if you came over, though. My dad's gone," Matt bit his lip. "What are we gonna do?" You asked him. "Anything you want," he responded. "Anything?" You wondered in a flirtatious tone. "Within reason," Matt chuckled at how dirty-minded you were.

"I'll be over soon," you replied, hanging up the phone and hurrying over to the neighbor boy's house. You let yourself in through Matt's front door, taking in all of the changes that had taken place since you'd last been over.

There were actually kitchen appliances on the counters and portraits on the wall of Matt in his younger years. You smiled, running your fingers along the frames and the glass before making your way up the staircase.

You turned the door knob to Matt's room, and as you swung open the door, he was pulling his zipper closed and still trying to catch his breath. He looked up at you and smiled. "So, what do you think of your new fleshlight?" You teased Matt.

"I think you know what I think," Matt playfully rolled his eyes. "I'm glad you like it," you leaned up against his door frame and looked him up and down. "Like is an understatement," he said, taking his toy to his bathroom to rinse it out. "Your house is coming together nicely," you called to him from his bedroom as your eyes glossed over the new additions to his space.

"Thanks. My dad and I had a lot of time to unpack today," Matt called back to you. You sifted through a few vinyls Matt had stored on a shelf beneath his record player. "I didn't know you were a music fan," you told him. "I mean, who doesn't love music?" Matt asked, coming back into the room and studying the way you ran your dainty fingers across his music collection.

"Yeah, but you listen to really good music," you replied, taking a Led Zeppelin album off of the shelf and slipping the record into the player. Traveling Riverside Blues came through clearly on the speaker. "What can I say? I have my dad's taste," he shrugged. You picked up Matt's journal off his desk and started flitting through the pages.

"May I?" You asked, glancing up at him. "I mean, I just came on the phone with you. I don't see why you can't read my journal," Matt chuckled and reached around to rub the back of his neck like he always did when he was nervous.

There was nothing written for the day the two of you had met, but there was an entry written for the day after. "I met my new neighbor yesterday. She's kind of a slut," your jaw dropped as you read the words on the page and peered up to look at Matt.

"Look, I know that wasn't the nicest way to put it," Matt said, walking towards you, prepared to de-escalate your anger. "Don't worry. It turns me on to be called that," your shocked expression turned to a smirk, and you continued reading the next sentence.

"She's really hot, and she seems to know what she wants. I like that about her. She's nothing like May. Who's May?" You wondered, glancing up from the leather book again. "My ex-girlfriend," Matt timidly told you.

"I didn't know you had dated anyone before," you relayed in a surprised tone. "We dated for about three years, but she's the only girlfriend I've ever had," Matt admitted to you. "Three years? Why'd you guys break up?" You wondered aloud.

There was a moment of silence before Matt answered you. "We ended things because I moved away," Matt said with a somber tone in his voice. Your stomach dropped. "So you guys broke up recently," you replied, fiddling with the leather cover. "Yeah, fairly recently," Matt said.

"So, you're not over her yet? I mean, it would be crazy if you were. It was a three-year long relationship that ended recently," You insinuated, trying to hold back the tears that were beginning to form in your eyes.

"I mean, I don't even know what it means to get over someone. I've never had to do it before," Matt said defensively. "Why didn't you tell me about her?" You narrowed your gaze at him.

"It didn't come up, and I was waiting until the right time to tell you," he answered you. "Do you still love her?" You wondered with a hurt look on your face, and Matt stood silently, staring at you for a moment.

You shut off the record player. "It's a simple question, Matthew. Are you still in love with her?" You interrogated him with a bit of anger in your tone now, crossing your arms over your chest.

"We ended things a couple weeks ago. How am I supposed to say no?" Matt asked, raising the volume of voice. "Do you guys still talk?" You wondered, taking a step closer to him.

"She texted me last night and asked me how I liked my new house. I was too high to answer her, but I texted her back this morning," Matt hesitantly admitted, shrugging his shoulder and sticking his hands in his pockets.

You didn't want Matt to see you cry, so you spun around without saying another word, bounded down the stairs, and ran out the front door. You headed for your backyard to be alone and collect your thoughts, climbing up the ladder to your treehouse as hot tears started falling from your eyes.

You knew that Matt and May weren't together anymore, but it was the fact that he still had leftover feelings for a girl he'd probably still be dating if he lived in the same state as her. Not only was he still in love with another girl, but a girl that, in his words, was very different from you.

On top of it all, you had always struggled with jealousy in relationships. Your mind raced through the worst-case scenarios. What would happen if Matt went back to visit May, or what if she traveled here to visit him? You wondered if it would change the way he felt about you.

You were wiping your tears with the back of your hand and sniffling when Matt poked his head up from under the treehouse as he followed you up the ladder. "I didn't mean to make you cry," he timidly said, looking at you with his big, blue eyes. "Did I say the wrong thing?"

You wanted to shout at him and tell him to leave you alone. You wanted to say anything to hurt him to make him feel what you were feeling. You wanted to hide behind your tough facade, secretly afraid to be vulnerable with him, but you couldn't look at him and imagine being mean to him or raising your voice at him.

"I don't want you to be in love with May," you blurted out as you started to sob again. Matt climbed into the shelter with you, his journal in hand, placing it in his lap as he sat beside you, wiping away your tears.

"It's just still fresh. That's all. It was three years, and the reason we broke up was beyond our control, but it doesn't make sense for us to be together, and now that I've met you.." Matt trailed off, rubbing your back.

"Since you met me, what?" You asked softly, lifting your head. "Well, you didn't even finish the journal entry, silly." Matt handed you his leather notebook, and despite your hesitancy to read on and hurt your own feelings worse, you opened it back up to the page you left off on.

"She's nothing like May. The more time I spend around her, the more I realize things I didn't really like about May and my relationship with her. Like how passive she was, how she always kept me guessing about how she felt about me, and the way she never disagreed with anything I said or challenged any of my beliefs," you read aloud.

"Wait, you actually like that I'm disagreeable and direct?" You asked, peering up at him, surprised because those were usually the qualities people criticized you for. "Yeah, those are my favorite things about you. It's refreshing to meet someone like you," Matt told you, looking into your eyes.

"I'm sorry I stormed off," you apologized. "I'm not upset," Matt assured you. "I just wasn't sure whether I was supposed to follow you or not."

You two sat silently for a few moments, just staring into each other's eyes, and the magnetic force between you and Matt pulled you each closer to one another until your lips were locked. The chemistry between you both when you'd kiss was undeniable, and you could each confirm that you felt it through your body language in the way your hands would wander, never being able to pull each other close enough.

"Do you wanna get high and go lay on your floor and Iisten to your records?" You asked him, looking into his blue eyes and caressing his face once you pulled back from the kiss. "Sure, but I'm only taking one hit," Matt looked at you, wide-eyed and smiling.

"That's really all you need," you smiled back at him, reaching for your stash and pulling a pre-rolled joint out of a plastic bag. You lit it up, exhaling smoke and watching it dissipate into the air.

"Do you wanna shotgun kiss again?" You asked Matt. "Shotgun kiss?" He reiterated in a confused tone. "Yeah, it's where I take a hit, and then we kiss, and I blow it into your mouth," you smirked at him. He nodded at you, leaning in as you took a drag, the cherry end of the joint glowing and crackling as you gently pulled from it.

Your lips softly brushed up against Matt's, blowing out the weed smoke as he breathed in and gave him a couple of pecks before pulling away. He exhaled, expelling the wispy, grey smoke from his lungs. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that," Matt laughed in between coughs.

You took a few more hits while you silently stared at the cute boy beside you. You watched as his eyelids grew heavy and the whites of his eyes turned a bit red. "Let's go check out your record collection," you suggested to Matt, nudging him in the arm and putting out the joint.

The two of you descended the ladder as the sun sank lower below the horizon, leaving behind a bright orange sky in its wake. You followed Matt's silhouette out your gate and back over the path that led to his house.

You found yourself lying on Matt's giant rug in the middle of his room while he laid his head next to yours but had his feet pointed in the opposite direction. You both stared up at the ceiling as Riders on the Storm by The Doors came through over the speaker of the record player, sounding textured and crisp.

"Can I stay the night here?" You asked Matt, peering over at him and his glazed over expression. "I don't see why not," Matt shrugged, looking at you wide-eyed. He did want you to stay the night, but he was afraid that you had certain sexual expectations about how the night would go.

"I'm not ready to have sex with you yet," Matt blurted out, searching your expression for a reaction and wondering if he was being too presumptuous by saying that. "That's okay. I understand. Could we maybe do other stuff?" You nibbled on your lip, looking at him hungrily. "I think I'd be okay with that," Matt nervously replied, nodding at you timidly.

The two of you enjoyed your highs a bit longer as The Doors' L.A. Woman album played through its track list until you were both too tired to keep your eyes open. Matt switched off the light, and you, the record player.

The two of you climbed into Matt's bed, stripping down into your underwear, nestling under the covers, and cuddling. Matt couldn't help but to get hard with your half-naked body curled up so closely to his with your nose nuzzled into his neck.

You guys heard Matt's dad pull up in his loud, rust-colored pickup truck, casting shadows across the bedroom as the headlights danced through the window. It's not that Matt wasn't allowed to have girls sleep over, but he certainly didn't think his father would approve of it, so the two of you silently decided to keep your staying the night a secret.

A couple hours later, you woke up to some movement in the bed. You figured Matt must have been tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable. You listened a little more closely, and you heard soft noises and labored breathing coming from him.

It wasn't long after Matt's dad came in through the door that he trudged up the stairs and made his way into his bathroom, turning on the shower and getting ready for bed. You and Matt laid in the dark, the only bit of light pouring into the room from a nearby street lamp, and you fell asleep shortly after in each other's arms.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

As your eyes adjusted to the low lighting, you caught a glimpse of desire on his face while he grinded against his pillow, desperate for relief. You watched quietly for a few minutes as he rutted into his blankets and listened as your name faintly fell from his lips. You smirked at how needy he was being.

"Need some help?" Your voice broke through his breathy whimpers. "What?" He asked, immediately stopping and acting like he'd just woken up. "Help me with what? I don't know what you mean."

"Oh, you naughty boy. Are you lying to me right now?" You moved closer to him, speaking in a low whisper while you tenderly grabbed him by his jaw. "Wanna try that again, hmm? You gonna tell me you weren't just humping your pillow?" You asked in a quiet voice.

"I'm sorry, mommy. It's so hard. It hurts," he whined in a bratty tone. You started slowly kissing Matt's neck, and you felt his body tighten against you. "I'm gonna make it feel all better," you moaned against his ear.

"My dad's asleep in the next room," Matt said quietly before letting out a stifled moan. "Makes it more hot that way, doesn't it? When it's a secret? When you have to keep your volume low? When it's risky and you could be caught if you're too loud?" You cooed, gently brushing your fingers over the fabric of his underwear, exciting him even further.

"Mmm. I dont know," he softly purred as you caressed his member. "I'll stop if you want me to. You know, so your dad doesn't hear us," you teased, whispering into his ear and delicately touching your lips to his ear lobe before kissing it. "No. Please. Keep going," he moaned quietly.

You slipped your hand into the waistband of his boxers and started running your fingers along his length while your lips moved back down to his neck. You could feel each of his veins as you lightly grazed him, testing how much teasing he could take.

He kept anticipating you wrapping your fingers around his thickness and sighing every time you didn't. "Why are you teasing so much?" He softly whimpered. You gave him a gentle squeeze, quietly chuckling at his neediness.

Finally, with his cock in your grip, you started to move your hand up and down, stroking his length while soft, delicate whimpers poured from his lips. "How do you like that, baby?" You asked in a voice just barely louder than a whisper.

"I love it, mommy. Please don't stop," he begged in a hushed volume. "Good boy," you cooed back as you started to pick up the pace a bit. "You can't finish until I tell you to," you added at the end.

He let out a long sigh. "But mommy. I'm already so close," he quietly cried. "Then you'd better get ahold of yourself," you responded in a sultry moan. He nodded at you obediently.

You couldn't tell how big he was because it was dark in the room, and you were jerking him off under his blanket, but it felt bigger than average. You noted that your fingers struggled to wrap around his girth, and your strokes felt long as you pumped his length back and forth. You couldn't wait until the day you'd get to see it.

You felt a wet warmth between your legs as you listened to the boy whimper beneath you while you continued sucking on his neck. "Mommy, please," he whispered. "Please, what?" You softly cooed against his hot skin.

"Please let me cum," he said in a strangled moan. "Not yet, baby." You smirked as you brushed your thumb over the tip, spreading around his pre-cum and eliciting more clear liquid from his sensitive slit.

"Mommy," he desperately whined, struggling to keep his volume down. "Sh, sh, sh," you whispered back into his ear while you stroked him mercilessly, admiring his facial expression that was saturated with pleasure in the dim, cool light offered by the street lamp.

His eyebrows were brought together, causing a little wrinkle between them, and his eyes were tightly closed. He caught his lip between his teeth in an attempt to muffle his pleasured sounds, which he did poorly.

You slowed down, taunting him some more. "No more teasing," Matt said in a breathy voice. "Oh. Please, mommy. Mmm. Need to - oh - need to cum so bad," Matt managed to get out in a series of broken moans and stifled whimpers.

You sped the pace back up for him, covering every inch of his cock, sending ripples of satisfaction through his body. "Please," he said once more. "Wait," you told him in a quiet, stern voice. He nodded at you with a submissive expression on his face.

You slowed down again, drawing out the process, really making him beg for it. He huffed in response. "If you wanna get an attitude with me, I'll stop and leave you unfinished," you replied, slowing the pace of your strokes.

"Mommy, please. I'm sorry. I won't get an attitude," he weakly answered, gripping your wrist to keep you from removing your hand from his dick. "Then be a good boy for mommy, okay?" You whispered, taking your free hand and tilting Matt's chin so that he was looking at you. He nodded, releasing his grasp on you.

You pumped back and forth again, fisting his cock while he started writhing under your control. "Good boy. You're doing such a good job," you cooed. Your name passed through his lips a few more times along with a few oohs and aahs.

"Mommy, please," Matt sobbed. You ignored his pleas, continuing your strokes, paying special attention to the head every time you brushed against it.

You felt him twitch against your palm, his dick begging for sweet release. Matt was so close to the edge, graciously trying to hold out just for you, but he wasn't used to waiting to cum or asking for permission to finish, but he was discovering how much he liked it.

He was so grateful when these next words left your mouth because he didn't know how much more he could take.

"You've been such a good boy. Why don't you cum for mommy?" You whispered into his ear before you went back to kissing his neck. "Yes, mommy," he pathetically whined. He'd been waiting.

You saw the muscles in his face tighten in the dim light as his cock pulsated in your hand, blowing his load into your palm. His orgasm lasted several seconds due to how much you'd edged him, and he emitted a few guttural groans before a smile overcame his expression.

"Good boy," you whispered once more, kissing his forehead. He looked up at you breathlessly with his big, blue eyes and a satisfied grin on his face.

You got up and wandered into Matt's bathroom to clean the evidence off your hands, and once you got back into Matt's bed, the two of you wrapped yourselves up in each other.

You woke up early on Wednesday to the sound of the birds chirping and the morning sun peeking in through Matt's window as it came up over the hills.

You drifted back off to sleep, your legs intertwined with his and your head buried into his chest while you listened to the sound of his slowing heartbeat as his vitals returned to normal after his climax. Soon, you and Matt were both soundly asleep again.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

You let out a big yawn, and you heard the cute boy beside you begin to stir. His eyes fluttered open, and your image became clearer as he adjusted to the change in lighting.

"Good morning, pretty boy," you said in a soft murmur. "Good morning, baby. You're up early," he mumbled back in his sexy morning voice. "I know. I have to work today," you told him, climbing out of bed and putting back on the clothes you'd wandered out of last night.

Matt reached for you with a pouty look on his face when he realized he wasn't going to get to see you until after your shift. You leaned in and kissed him. "How do you usually get to work?" Matt wondered out loud.

"I usually just walk. It's only a few blocks," you shrugged. "If you get back in this bed and cuddle with me for ten more minutes, I'll take you to work in the truck," Matt smiled up at you. "Deal," you replied, climbing back into bed and wrapping your arms around Matt for a few minutes longer.

"If you want to go run over to your place and get dressed for work, I'll go start up the truck," Matt offered, grinning at you. "That would be really sweet of you," you softly replied. The two of you left Matt's room, tiptoeing down the stairs and trying to stay as quiet as possible to keep from waking Matt's dad and blowing your little secret.

All your efforts were for naught when you and Matt made your way into the kitchen, realizing Matt's dad was already awake. He was sitting at the kitchen table, reading his Bible, and drinking a cup of coffee.

"Oh, good morning. I didn't realize you stayed over last night," his dad said, peering up at you both from the page, his gaze dancing between you and Matt. "Morning, Mr. Sturniolo," you timidly said, avoiding addressing the sleepover.

"Uh, hi Dad," Matt responded, reaching behind his head and rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "I'm gonna take the truck to go drop my friend off at work really quick," Matt said, picking the keys up off the counter.

"Why don't I come with you guys? So I can learn a little more about your friend here?" Matt's dad asked, getting up from his seat at the table and extending his arm for Matt to hand over the keys.

Matt gulped, knowing that on top of figuring out you had stayed the night, now he was also going to know what you did for work. He reluctantly forked over the keys. "I'll meet you guys at the truck in about a half hour," you said, giving Matt a quick, awkward side hug.

You couldn't get out of the situation quickly enough.

The whole time you were showering, changing into clean clothes, and brushing your hair and your teeth, you were dreading how awkward the drive over was going to be. You resented that this was only your second interaction with Matt's dad, who you really wanted to like you and approve of you.

You were afraid it would go how any other relationship you'd had went. Their parents would either outwardly not like you, judging you based on all the most scandalous things about your personality and not bothering to get to know the other aspects of you better.

Or worse, the parents would pretend to like you to your face and then would badmouth you to your partner in private, telling them how much better they could be doing and how bad of an influence you are.

You braced yourself for it all as you sauntered out the door and headed for the orange truck.

"You ready?" Matt asked as he opened the door for you. You nodded and nestled in between the two men as Matt climbed into the truck behind you.

"So, what do you do for work?" Matt's dad asked you, pulling out of the driveway. "I work in retail. It's this way," you said, trying to avoid giving too much detail about your job and pointing in the direction of the road he needed to take.

"What do your parents do for work?" His dad wondered. "My mom is a flight attendant, and my dad was a pilot, but now he works in air traffic," you responded.

"Ah, so they work in similar fields," Matt's dad nodded. "Yeah, they met at work. Fun fact, I was actually conceived on a plane," you told them both. "Shit. Sorry. That was an overshare," you said, putting your palm over your mouth once you realized you'd just sworn in front of Matt's very Christian dad.

He didn't laugh or find your quirkiness charming. Matt looked at you wide-eyed, knowing your humor wasn't going to land well with his father.

You continued giving him directions to your retail job, which wasn't totally a lie, and he cleared his throat and gave Matt a look when the three of you pulled into the parking lot of a sex shop. Matt stepped out of the truck to let you out.

"Well, this has been fun," you said sarcastically, feeling the thick tension in the air as your feet hit the pavement. "Thank you for the ride, Mr. Sturniolo. Matt, I'll call you on my lunch break," you told him, leaning in and giving him a tender peck on the lips.

You could feel how warm and red your face was as you turned around and headed for the front door of your job. Your coworker, Carly was at the register, giving you an inquisitive look and watching the scene play out.

"Did your cute neighbor boy take you to work?" She asked, giving Matt a little subtle wave, and he waved back, giving Carly a shy smile.

"Yeah, and his very Christian father after he caught me sleeping over. Oh, and he didn't know I worked in the adult entertainment industry until about a minute ago," you added, looking at Carly with a deer in headlights look.

"Oh. That sounds like a very awkward morning," she said, trying to contain her laugher. "It's fine. You can laugh. It is comical, really. I just hope he's not in the truck, telling Matt that I'm a harlot and trying to convince him to stop hanging out with me," you expressed to Carly, tears forming in your eyes.

Her face softened, and she took on an expression of pity. "I'm so sorry. Come here. You know, no matter what his dad says about you, I'm sure Matt's still gonna like you," she said, pulling you into a hug and rubbing your back while she comforted you. You wiped a tear out of the corner of your eye before it had a chance to fall. "Thank you for saying that."

Meanwhile, in the rusty-colored Dodge Dakota, your worst fears were unfolding. "Matt, what on earth are you thinking? Running around with a girl like that?" He asked angrily as he pulled out of the parking lot.

"Dad-" Matt started to say, but the older man cut him off. "She works at a place called Temptations. You don't see anything wrong with that? You think God wants you canoodling with a girl like that," he replied, giving Matt a somber look.

"A girl like that? What does that even mean? There's so much more to her than that," Matt defended you, raising his voice a bit. "Son, just be careful. Girls like that are trouble. I don't know if this is some kind of overcorrection because you're upset about May-" Matt's dad started.

"How dare you bring up May?" Matt glared at his father. "I'm just saying, son. You and May made sense together," his dad replied, shrugging. "Actually, dad. We didn't. May and I stayed together for so long because neither one of us wanted to admit we were incompatible," Matt scoffed. "What?" Matt's dad asked, completely taken aback by his kid's comment.

Matt and May's relationship was picture perfect on the outside. They didn't argue, they didn't complain about one another to their friends and families, and everyone envied what they had. Everyone thought they'd be together forever, including the two of them.

"I know this new girl is completely different from May. She's not a Christian. She's loud and domineering. She's aggressive, and she's overbearing. And she's honest. Maybe even too honest. She always says what's on her mind even if other people aren't going to like it. And I don't love her despite those qualities. I love her because of those qualities," Matt huffed, silencing his dad.

The two men sat quietly beside each other in the truck, mulling over what the other had said. Matt's dad was a lot of things, but unsupportive wasn't one of them.

A few more moments passed before his father finally spoke up. "Fine. Invite her over for dinner. I want to get to know the girl you love."

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[put-me-through-the-wall]

Girl Next Door

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: Simon is a simple man who doesn't ask for much. Just a bit of peace to come home to. When suddenly you pop in to interrupt his tranquility. Maybe he doesn't completely hate it...

A/N: This is fluff if you squint. Slow burn?? This will probably just be part one if y'all dig the concept. Let me know what you think.

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Simon loves sitting on his balcony in the evening. He loved it before his new neighbor moved in. He wasn't the type to be overly concerned about the actions of other tenants. If someone was too loud, he'd just turn up the television. Banging from upstairs, he'd play some music. Smoking pot outside, that's fine he smokes cigarettes. And he was never one to meddle in others personal lives. He sought sanctuary in his alone time. 

While unlocking his front door one day he couldn't ignore the soft grunting coming from down the hallway behind him. He turns to see someone coming out of the stairwell with a box so big he can only make out a pair of hands on the sides and little legs coming out the bottom. He watched as you waddled all the way to the door right next to his own. You drop the box with a huff, leaning forward on the cardboard to catch your breath. 

"Hi neighbor," you greet between pants. You're wearing some baggy clothes and a beat up baseball cap, wide eyes staring up at him from under its brim. Just a hint of sweat speckling your temples. "Sorry for the noise, I promise I'm not a normally noisy person." you smile. 

"Hope not," he grunts and enters his own residence. Closing the door firmly without a second look. 

𝜗𝜚

The next day while he's drinking his morning coffee and going through his emails he is disturbed by a politely quiet knock on the door. When he looks through the peephole he sees you again. This time with your hair down, wearing a sundress. Looking a lot more put together. You're holding a tray in your hands. He opens the door but does not release the door chain, leaving only a crack in the door to reveal himself.

"Can I help you," he grumbles in a flat tone.

"Hey neighbor!" You don't let the small allowance of space dampen your spirit or at least you don't show it. "I made some cookies. I'd like to think it's good luck to christen a new place by making something sweet in it. The recipe ended up making way more than I planned for so I figured it would be the neighborly thing to do to offer you some." You give your brightest smile hoping to win him over. 

"I don't like sweets," he states.

"Oh, really? I thought everyone liked sweets..." Your shoulders slump the smallest bit as you pause for a moment in thought. "Well, I've got a baked ziti in the oven. It should be ready in about thirty minutes. I could pop by and drop off some when it's done, if you'd like?"

"Yeah, no thanks." He doesn't allow you to respond when he closes the door in your face. Simon is a distrustful man by nature and he won't let a sweet girl with a tray of goodies change that. They did smell really good though. He can't help himself when he looks through his peephole to watch you leave. You let out a defeated sigh and shuffle back to your apartment next door. 

𝜗𝜚

A few days later he runs into you again. He steps into the elevator, presses the button for the lobby, when he hears a familiar voice calling. 

"Wait, hold the elevator please!" You shout down the hallway. You jog towards the lift, trying to get your purse on your shoulder with one hand while balancing your phone, keys, and a travel mug in the other. Your jacket is only half on and the straps on your shoes are undone. Simon groans under his breath but, out of a second of sympathy, he holds his arm out to block the doors from closing. 

"Thank you," you say breathlessly and duck underneath his outstretched arm. "I'm a running little behind this morning." 

"No problem." His eyes remain forward, watching the doors slide shut as the two of you start descending. You finish putting on your jacket and run your fingers to settle your frazzled hair. 

"Can you hold this for a second?" 

"Uh.." He doesn't get a chance to answer when you're thrusting your warm cup into his hands. He watches as you shove your phone and keys into your purse then bend down to finish buckling the straps on your shoes. Unbothered when your skirt rides up your leg exposing your upper thigh. 

You stand back up, straightening your blouse. "Thanks again" You take the cup back allowing him to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "Hey, I'm sorry if I came off as strong the other day."

"It's fine"

"I'm not the best with first impressions." He doesn't respond so you continue. "I didn't mean to intrude either. I'm sure you're a very busy man. Me too, I'm pretty busy with work and stuff. I write for the paper. Well, I am writing the cooking column right now but I'm hoping to get bumped up soon. Maybe something like crime would be cool. What about you? What do you do for work?"

The elevator's ding signals you've arrived at the lobby. As the doors open Simon turns to his head slowly to look at you and nods towards the open doors. 

"Ladies first" 

He wasn't fooled by your clumsy persona, he could feel an ulterior motive in you. He watched as you sauntered off. You are much more professional now, as you pull out a pair of sunglasses and slide them on. He watched the way your hips swayed in your tight skirt. You looked over your shoulder and smiled sweetly at him. Simon waits until you're pushing open the glass paneled double doors before he heads out of the lift himself. 

As you make it onto the city sidewalk, a man runs right into you, causing your coffee to spill down the front of your shirt. You gasp as the hot liquid splashes onto your freshly ironed blouse and down your chest. The man hardly pauses before redirecting around you looking irritated. You spin back around with a huff and shove back into the lobby, pacing to the elevator. 

"Hold the door, please" you groan, marching back while Simon blocks the doors again, containing his laugh into a tight smirk.

𝜗𝜚

Whenever you caught a glimpse of Simon you were quick to skip over and start a conversation. Which was quite a bit. It seemed he was always running into you. The elevator, the apartment gym, while taking out trash, in the parking garage, as he unlocks his door. Most of the conversation being one sided. He was starting to learn more about your life, all the information against his will, of course. 

You were a recipe columnist, also a great cook. You liked dogs but really wanted a cat. You were a single child. You moved here to get a fresh start after a bad relationship. You don't have many friends, that one is pretty obvious.

Then one night, while Simon is trying to enjoy a smoke outside on his balcony he's disturbed by loud shouting in your apartment. Not in your usual bubbly tone, no you sounded angry. He couldn't understand the words you were saying through the glass of your patio door. Then a deep voice is shouting back at you. After a few minutes of listening to the back and forth, your front door slams and then there is stillness. The moment is interrupted when you storm onto your own balcony, slamming the glass door shut behind you.

You brace yourself on the railing edge. He watches your shoulders heave with a few heavy breaths then start to shutter. Your head falls weakly into your hands and you begin to cry. Cry hard at that, sobbing that shakes your whole body. You cover your mouth to keep yourself quiet but your pathetic whimpers still slip though. 

For a moment Simon actually feels bad for you. In fact he feels angry, angry at whoever could have made you feel that way. Sure, you could be annoying at times. Okay annoying all the time but he has never heard you say a harsh word about anyone before. He can't fathom what you could have possibly done to deserve such harshness. You are a sweet girl. He considers saying something to comfort you in some way but after another minute of watching you cry meekly into your hands he thinks maybe not. It would be better to let you be alone. His own patio door is still open, perhaps and can slip back inside with you noticing...

Then he drops his lighter. 

Your head turns sharply to the direction of the clattering plastic against the floor. You lock your watery eyes with Simon and he feels an unexpected pang in his heart. You swiftly wipe your eyes and brush your ruffled hair in place the best you can. Even in the dim lighting illuminating from the city below he can still see how flushed your cheeks have become. 

You draw in a shaky inhale before speaking. "How long have you been out here?"

"Not long," He sees your eyes flick down to the half smoked cigarette between his fingers, giving away his lie. "You want one?" He asks, unsure how to comfort you. 

"I don't smoke," then a pause. "Can I just have a bit of yours?" Your voice is so feeble it's almost a whisper. As you look at him with big round eyes and pouty lips, he can't deny your request. 

He passes the half burnt cigarette over the small stone wall separating your balconies. You're shaky fingers brush against his, careful not to drop it. You bring it to your lips to pull a slow drag. Your eyes flutter shut before you release the puff of smoke, carefully not to blow it in his direction. Simon watches the cloud drift out of your mouth, disappearing into the chilled night air. You lean on the wall connecting your balcony to Simon's. You stare down at the glowing red ember emitting a thin plume of smoke. 

"You alright?" It's him this time who breaks the silence.

"Yeah," you mumble, not lifting your gaze. 

"You sure?"

"No," you release a tired sigh. 

He waits a beat before speaking. "You told me you weren't gonna be a noisy neighbor."

A smile begins to creep onto your face. "I'm sorry, I broke my promise. How can I make it up to you?" When you look at him now, he sees a shimmer return back to your eyes. 

You pass the cigarette back over to him. It's basically down to the filter when he brings it to his own lips and takes a final drag, blowing the smoke between the two of you. It disperses around your features while you watch him. He stubs it out in an ashtray on his little patio table. The cool night dries his chapped mouth. He licks his lips and tastes an unfamiliar cherry flavoring. He looks down at the butt in his ashtray and observes the faintest red ring of lipgloss on the smushed filter. 

"You know, I could go for some baked ziti."

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Part II

Masterlist

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[helslastangel]

I'm back bxtches

Random Observations #9

Y'all still need the disclaimer or will reason prevail?

🦂 Scorpio Mars are POWERHOUSES in my not-so-humble opinion. If you are prone to procrastination, especially in your career or as an entrepreneur, Aries Mars might hype you up but a Scorpio Mars (esp in 10H) is gonna make damn sure you finish your to-do list.

I had a friend with this placement and she literally bribed me with weed to come to her house, then she took my phone and house keys and made me sit and finish designing my business cards and send them to Vistaprint before she'd give my damn keys back. Made over $5K USD from my next few clients though so I wasn't even mad about it lol

🦀 I don't care what the astrology girls like to say - my observations of Cancer moons is that they are FORGIVING AF. Like it takes a lot for a Cancer moon to be really done with you and chances are you're more wrong than they are.

Cancer moons come off as manipulative to a lot of people. But when you actually dig below the surface, you'll notice this common thread where people who aren't good at seeing other people's points of view unless they need something immediately project that attitude onto people who genuinely give a shit.

Obviously there are evil Cancer moons and they're extra terrifying for the above reason, but they're the minority and the slander is unnecessary imo. The people who have literally put up with my WORST behavior the longest and genuinely dropped it after a good open conversation were all Cancer moons.

👬 Which leads me to another interesting astro trope I'd like to kick over right about now. Gemini moons. Love them but in my experience they are usually what people think Cancer moons are. Gemini moons, from my observation, don't soak up as much, if any, of other peoples' energies. They're gonna keep it moving emotionally regardless of how you wanna be in the moment. That means they can easily smile with you for years if that's the path of least resistance, but that does NOT mean they particularly like, care about or think highly of you at all. They MIGHT, but you will NOT know unless they want you to know or you somehow trigger them enough to rip the black tape off the redacted parts of their mental file on you.

If you're someone who is used to everything being totally transparent and straightforward, you're in for a wild ride with a Gemini moon in your life. I've had quite a few as friends or coworkers, etc., and I promise without fail there always came the day where I ended up wiping tears of laughter from my eyes, feet up on my desk, twiddling my thumbs listening to the 11-minute voice note from the latest Gemini moon in my life. Pretty much telling me in no uncertain terms exactly what they thought of me, where I should go, why, and how happy they would be to direct me there personally.

As a Capricorn moon, I never have the kind of reaction they'd like to this but it's always interesting to see the abrupt change as they can literally seem perfectly cool 3 minutes before the other twin takes over. I don't even think it's a good or bad thing, just how it goes.

Cancer moons seem this way but chances are you chose to ignore the VERY OBVIOUS SIGNS THAT SOMETHING (probably everything) was wrong, lol. Cancer moons can't hide their feelings for shit (reason #101 why I love them; it's easier for me to fix a problem if i can quickly see there is one 😂).

🦁 Let's change tracks and talk about Leo mercuries for a minute. Y'all get your inside and outside voices mixed up a LOT, lol. Every Leo mercury I know had trouble speaking quietly in quiet-appropriate situations but then catch them outside trying to get their friends attention at the other side of the street and suddenly it's like Tom got their tongue and tossed it to Jerry. Can barely get a sound out. Why is that? I know it wouldn't be all Leo mercuries but for those who experience this, please tell me what it is, I'm genuinely curious lol. As a Libra mercury I kinda have a similar problem. On another note, I've noticed that Leo mercuries can be highly persuasive people even if solely because of the amount of power and confidence they put behind the things they say.

My ex-husband has Leo Mercury at 24° (Pisces degree) and I promise you that man could make you believe anything against your will 😂 One time he was trying to get out of having to go to a friend's event and rather than just decline like a normal person, he crafted this masterpiece of an excuse that somehow involved me needing his attention (I had been on the couch under his arm half the day so no lol) but the way he spoke on the phone?

I swear to God even I caught myself nodding along all like "yeah, yes I did feel a bit neglected today and wanted more time with babe"... 😂😂😂 like NO TF I DID NOT FEEL NEGLECTED AT ALL but I got second-hand convinced lol. And yes he was loud when I or his friends were 12 inches away but couldn't raise his voice for shit to order through the drive-thru at McDonald's lol it was cute, though, I'd do the yelling into the intercom thing 😂

🐟 Lemme say this about Pisces suns - you are very underrated, from my observations. I've noticed Pisces suns in particular struggle with one of two major issues when it comes to others' perceptions of them - either people seem compelled to minimize/infantilize their contributions and achievements, or people fail to notice they exist altogether (or forget about them easily). I've always held my Pisces sun friends close for as long as I could and hyped them up because nearly every Pisces sun I've met has been incredibly talented and usually creative in some way. I'm talking genius levels of ability in some area that goes completely overlooked or undervalued by the majority of people in their circles.

These are the people who you vaguely notice as the cool server, hot bartender, friendly delivery guy, helpful sales associate, only for you to run into them somewhere else and you find out they run a whole personal training business or play 6 instruments perfectly and give lessons to kids, or taught themselves professional photography and have a camera in their bedroom worth more than your savings account. I've met so many Pisces suns who seemed to be one way and then there were so many layers to them that it was like reading an interactive novel.

That's what was on my mind for now, drop your favorite placement from your own chart in the comments, I'll compile them for random observations #10 😘

[drefear]

Closer by NIN

This is part two for Nasty

Summary: You and Miguel have been finding things out about each other through your music choices.

TW: When I say that this one is rough, I mean that this type of sex could get you arrested. I'd bail him out. biting, scratching, dacrophilia, p in v, breeding kink, honestly just everything.

Miguel was panting a bit, rolling off of your body as you both came down from your high together. It had been a few weeks since he listened to that damn song you loved and found out about what you liked in bed, fully using this to his advantage and constantly making you a squirming mess underneath him. 

His eyes stared at the ceiling with a smile on his lips, then closing them for a second before feeling you shift beside him in his bed. He felt your breast press onto his chest as you laid on top of him and his hands slid to hold your waist, peaking open one eye at your smirking face. 

“What’s going on in that head of yours, mamacita?” He questioned, tapping his fingers into your skin a bit as you rested your chin on his pecks. You could feel his heartbeat becoming normal again after your rigorous rounds. 

“I’m just wondering what your turn ons are? What makes you insatiable and want more?” You go on and on as he just chuckles, brushing some of the hair from your face as you stare at him with your big doe eyes, filled with curiosity. 

“You, mi amor.” He answers and closes his eyes again, pulling you tight to him as he rolls onto his side and pecks your forehead. “Now we need to sleep, we have an early debriefing tomorrow.” He mumbled and you pouted a bit, pushing out your bottom lip even though his eyes were closed. 

You maniacally rubbed your hand against his still half-hard cock and his grunted, grabbing your wrist quickly to stop you. “Bebe.” His tone had shifted to authoritarian fast and you let out a ‘hmph.’

“One more, papi, please. One more round and I’ll sleep like a baby.” You begged and his eyes opened as an amused grin fell on his full lips. “I promise.” You finished and he yanked one of your legs around his hips, burying his face into your neck. 

“I can’t so no to my precious girl.” he nipped as you giggled, and you both continued once more, before falling asleep. 

The next day, Miguel was exhausted. One more round turned into three more rounds and then sex on the bathroom floor, in his kitchen, and giving him head in his elevator. 

So you could say it was definitely worth it to him. 

You brought out a sexual prince in him, someone caring and full of sweet, buttery smooth words that made your panties a swimming pool in the middle of July. And he was always welcome to dive in. 

“Wow. That’s a new record.” Jess spoke and you looked around, confused. “The hickeys, I mean.” She points to your neck and you immediately close the mask of your suit to avoid her scrutiny any more. She laughed lightly, “don’t be like that, remember that I’m technically the one who led him to give you said hickeys.” She prompts and sits, leaning on your desk. “So I’m guessing it’s all going good?” 

“Better than good, Jess. He’s- he’s like a God in bed.” 

“Wow. He must really be into it.” 

“What do you mean?” You asked, now scrunching your brows together. 

“Well, listen- he’s an attractive guy, and you’re not the only person with eyes at the HQ. He’s slept with a few in the past before he met you, but it was always a one-and-done thing, so I’m just impressed that he’s opened up about what he’s into.” 

And then you sunk down in your seat. “What… he’s into?” You questioned. 

“Well, yeah. You two always do what you both want, right? He used to complain about how vanilla most people were, so you must be doing something right.” She stands again and walks off. 

Leaving you alone to your thoughts. What… he wanted? You assumed that he was into what you were into, since you’d found him jerking off to exactly the things you’d wanted to hear, especially after that song- 

The song!

Oh, Jess and her big mouth probably told him about your love for that song! You blushed in embarrassment as you thought about him submitting to what you wanted. 

You didn’t want him to only focus on your turn ons, you wanted compromise and to share his darker fantasies. Isn’t that what a relationship was? 

“Lyla,” you called out and found the little AI pop up in front of you. “I need to know what sexual interests Miguel has.” The orange hologram sputtered a cough for a second while you rolled your eyes at her overdramatic display. “Lyla, you don’t even breathe.” 

“If I did, I'd be gasping in shock and clutching my pearls.” She shot back and you just sighed in defeat. “Besides, those files aren’t accessible to just anyone. You need permission from Miguel or me.” She folded her arms.

“Wait- permission? Like… his passcode?” You blurted out with hopes and Lyla nodded. 

“Well, yes, but-“ 

“Thanks Lyla.” You cut her off and hurried to his office, ignoring the hologram calling back to you. Your steps finally made it to the dark office Miguel used, more like a workshop for a robotics technician, but you didn’t dare correct him when it came to the Society. 

“Miguelito?” You called out, testing out a theory. When silence was your only companion in the room, you smiled and continued your plans. 'Perfect!' You cheered to yourself and hopped to swing onto his platform. 

The screens were much higher than you could see or reach, so you jumped up to sit on his desk and tap along the floating screens. You found what you were looking for after a minute, being greeted by Lyla once more. 

“You know, he’ll be made when he finds out.” She announced and you shrugged. 

“Not if I put what I find to good use.” You answered and the AI pretended to wretch, feigning nausea. 

“Gross. Hold on, if it’s that important to you, I might be able to bypass the code. But I’ll deny ever being here if you throw me under the bus.” Lyla answered and tapped something, then letting you watch the code fill itself. 

“This is his porn history. He doesn’t know I can see it, and I’m happy he doesn’t because that conversation would be really weird.” She pops a few screens, but most of them are just… 

“Is this... my social media?” You wobbled on the desk for a second from leaning back in shock. 

“Yeah, it tends to get him going pretty easily. Sometimes he listens to certain music, too.” She adds and you look directly at her, making her sigh and hold her glasses in disappointment. “I hate that I’m enabling you.” 

“Don’t stop now.” You demand and she lets his playlist pop up, one titled after you. 

Most of the songs seem to be very lovey dovey- and that’s when you find it. 

“Nine inch nails…?” Your surprise was evident as you read the band name once more. “I listened to this band in high school.”

“So did he. Believe it or not, he was a little rebellious in high school. I think it was the daddy issues.” Lyla tapped the song and the strange sounds from the song played heavily. 

“Thanks Lyla!” You tapped her away and ran from his desk, trying to make it as though you had never been there. Your mistake. 

That night, you began playing the song while cooking and tried to focus on the lyrics. 

“You let me violate you 

You let me desecrate you 

You let me penetrate you 

You let me complicate you”

Your jaw dropped, listening to the words. Oh.

The song exuded dominance and power, something very Miguel. But you didn’t think he could be so… rough. Of course he could be rough, the man had fangs and claws, but you thought he was much more into sentimental experiences, making love and such. You didn't realize he wanted to fuck.

Pressing your palms flat into the counter, you'd long forgotten your meal when the chorus bursts through your speakers. 

“I wanna fuck you like an animal 

I wanna feel you from the inside 

I wanna fuck you like an animal 

My whole existence is flawed 

You get me closer to God”

Your knees became jelly as you imagined him saying thing these things to you, gravel voice smirking as you fall to the ground before him and worship him like he deserves- like he would demand. 

“you tear down my reason

(Help me) it's your sex I can smell 

(Help me) you make me perfect

Help me become somebody else”

You could feel the desperation in the reverb of the songs drums. It’s no wonder he always inhales so deeply when he eats you out, he’s letting his animalistic instincts take over. He’s technically part spider, which is inherently an animal. He literally needs to fuck you like an animal to feel his whole DNA’s satisfaction. 

“I wanna fuck you like an animal 

I wanna feel you from the inside 

I wanna fuck you like an animal 

My whole existence is flawed 

You get me closer to God”

You breath hitches and you hear the door close, your head shooting up as you can hear the sound of his boots coming closer, spider senses tingling from behind you. 

“So… the scent of your wet pussy was all over my desk when I got back from Peter's universe… want to tell me why?” He inquired and you wanted to answer, but the hand sliding up your body and the thoughts plaguing your mind from the still-playing song we’re holding your tongue hostage. “No answer? My good girl always answers me, what's wrong? His gentle kisses land on the slope of your neck and you give him more access by tilting your head.

“What if I don’t want to be a 'good girl' tonight? What if…” he freezes and starts to put everything together. You snuck into his office, this song, your pheromones filling the room. 

“What if what?” He growls and you practically cum at the sound of his aggravated voice hissing at you. 

“What if… I want you to do what the song says… and fuck me like an animal.” 

His brain drowns in conflicted emotions. He wants nothing more to practically maim your skin with his claws and teeth, fucking you so roughly that you beg him to stop and take a break, plead for him to breed you like a whore, to hear you crying from how hard he’s going, how bad it hurts and amazing it feels. He wants to see you wake up with a limp in your walk and a belly full of his potential children. 

But then he also doesn’t want to scare you away. He doesn’t want you to be forced to do those things just because you want him to finish, to feel satisfaction. He’s more than satisfied with you, loves the sex you two have, he doesn’t need-

The words fly through his head, but everything stops when you roughly grab his cock through his suit and get onto your knees before him. 

“Mi corazón… you don’t know what you’re asking for.” He encourages you to stand up again, to stop asking for this, but you bury your face into the fabric and breathe in deeply. 

“Please, I need it in my mouth. I want you to fuck my mouth.” You beg and who is he to deny such a gorgeous request when he can see your fat tits practically spilling from the keyhole of your spider suit from this angle. 

“Fuck. Fine.” He says through gritted teeth and yanks your head backwards by your hair, disabling his suit completely as his cock pops out and smacks you a bit. He likes the sounds, likes the view of his face smothering precum across your cheeks and lips. And he wants more. “You like the idea of me suffocating you on my cock, forcing myself down your throat for you to suck?” He slaps his hard dick across your face and because of the weight and width, it actually kinda stings. “That’s it, my little slut… so horny just for me, so hungry to take my dick.” He roughly grabs your face and forces your mouth open, smushing your cheeks in his large hands and tapping his tip on your tongue. “Open wide and stick out that tongue.” He commands and you comply, tongue out and mouth open for him. 

He slams into your mouth until you can’t take much more, still missing a few inches of him. “Relax your throat, or I’ll fuck it so hard that you’ll be forced to.” He threatens and you try to lessen your muscles tightening. Pulling your hair into his body until your nose is smashed against his pelvis, dark happy trail against your lips.

The gagging makes him practically cum then and there, but he won’t let this end just yet. No, he needs to enjoy this more. unbeknownst to him, you were on the verges of an orgasm just from him fucking into the back of your throat one time. You hand slides down to touch your clit and rub yourself in gentle circles.

Sliding out, he rams his cock back into your waiting cavern and begins a relentless speed, shoving himself further and further each time until he can see the bulge of his dick in your esophagus. His head falls back and his fingers tighten in your hair, tears flowing freely down your cheeks as he brutalizes your throat and refuses to stop. His hand pins your head between the countertop of the kitchen and his postponing hips, refusing to stop until he feels your nails on one hand digging into his thighs and making him almost cum. You groan on his dick and he realizes that sound, he knows that's a signal that you've just finished with your own hand. He yanks himself out and starts fisting his cock fast as you cough and gasp for air, tears still forming mascara tracks down your cheeks. 

He bends down and hurls you over his shoulder, then throwing you onto the ground of the living room and making you do a split on your back, blushing at how exposed he had you. Three sharp claws formed from his fingers and he shredded the hips of your suit, bending down to your tits and latching the top in his mouth so when he turned his head, the rip was loud and your nipples were open to the cold air. 

“You’re going to lay here and take my cock until the only words you know how to say are ‘Miguel please fuck me.’ And I’m not stopping until you pass out from exhaustion.” He declares and puts the tip of his dick in your entrance, not even wasting a second and thrusting into you completely, making a scream tear through your throat in pain as he once again found your hair and thrusted. The lack of accommodation made you tighter than you’d ever felt, jerking hips his harder as your hand fell onto his abs to push him away, hiccups coming from your lips as the pain begins to grow at how hard he could go. 

“That’s it, shut the fuck up and take this cock. Cry about it, try to get away, but I’ll pull you back and fuck. You. Harder.” He rammed his hips into yours to punctuate every word of the end of the sentence. “I’ll fuck you so hard, you won't be able to get up for work tomorrow.” He says as he pounds his tip into your cervix, most definitely bruised and possibly hurt worse. But god, did it feel good, watching him get so crazy, so psychotically obsessed with you. 

“Migu-el!” Your words get broken up with as I should have been gone. 

“That’s it, my little bitch in heat, I’ll fuck you so hard, your entire bottom half with be black and blue.” He grunted and groaned, starting to feel like an animal on the discovery channel, then bending down and biting into your skin hard. Blood drew at the little punctures and he continued to bite deep, painful marks all over, looking like you were stung by a bunch of bees. His hands slid up your back and you felt the claws in his fingers latch onto you, scrapping across your smooth body and forming bloodied lines and marks of what looked like pure aggression, but if only everyone who saw them knows… 

You were fucking loving this.

Your body looked like an anomaly mission gone wrong; dark, scattered bruises that looked like they’d take weeks to heal, punctures all over your body like you were a piece of cheese, and red scraps like you’d tumbled into a bed of razors. All done by Miguel and his primal needs, and you’d let him do it again and again as long as he used his cock to completely pummel your insides. 

“F-fuck me, please, Miguel…” you gasped and choked out as his eyes blared red like sirens on a cop car, heaving and large above you. You orgasm around him and he makes a sound as if he’s a roaring lion.

“That’s it, ask me to destroy this slutty pussy, to breed you, to own you.” His words come out in an octave you didn’t know he could reach and your back arches, keeping his dick in you as he flips you over. 

Like a battering ram in and out of your pussy, he holds your arms and yanks your body back and forth on his cock like his own life sized pocket pussy. “Perfect little cocksleeve, letting me use her body like a fuckin whore. Only mine, no one else can touch you, mine.” he grunts and growls as he attacks your back again, wet lines of him basically slobbering all over you like a dog. He humps into you at a dizzying speed and you cum again, the searing burn of a too-fast orgasm swimming through your belly as he smiles and ruts upward, bullying your g-spot more and more. 

“One more, you can do one more, right?” He insists and makes sharp, hard movements against that spot. You weep louder as the lewd sounds of your wet pussy sucking him in and milking him dry echo around the room. Miguel moves to web together your arms behind your back, holding them now with one hand and grasping the back of your neck like a handle with the other, smashing his hips into your suffocating insides. "I'm not asking, you will give me one more, I want to feel your cunt clamp down on me again and try to suck the cum out of my cock."

Everything becomes white noise as another painful and overwhelming orgasm wracks though your body, making you jerk and shutter wildly as he holds you in his control and rides you through it. 

“That’s it, you’re my fucktoy, my personal little cunt for me to ruin and get pregnant. Gonna be all knocked up, gonna let me cum in you and fill you up. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Fuck this cunt for the rest of my fuckin life.” His words send him tumbling into his own climax, shooting his seed so deep inside you that you swear it’s gonna spill out of your mouth. Miguel’s dick is so deeply buried within you as he cums that your legs shake and the muscles cramp, dropping below him. You’re completely fucked out, everything feeling like an irritation to your bloody, bruised skin. 

And the look on Miguel’s face is heartbreaking once he looks at you. Yes, it makes his dick hard again, but it makes his mind unravel into panic. He needs to apologize. How could he mark you up like this, damage you like this? He never should have let go, never should have-

“Wanna go again?” You mumble out and give him a little smirk. And he completely malfunctions.

“You… enjoyed that?”

“Are you joking? That was the most amazing sex of my entire life. We can do the sweet sappy stuff I taught you some other time, now abuse my cunt with your cock again please.” You beg and Miguel thinks he’s gonna lose his mind. 

You will be the death of him, and as he plunges into your hole once more, propping a pillow under your hips, he thinks about what type of sex playlist you two are gonna make together.

[vivwritesfics]

Better Than He Ever Was - MV1

This gif makes me feral - I am on my KNEES

Y/N is pregnant and Max is sweating

Related works: Mini Me Prodigy

When Y/N Verstappen found out she was pregnant with Fabian, Max was terrified. He was utterly, utterly terrified.

He played it well, cheering and happy smiles when Y/N showed him the pregnancy test. To everybody on the outside, he was the overjoyed father to be, talking about Y/N and their baby on the way any chance he got.

There were very few people who saw beneath the facade Max was putting on. The first was Christian Horner, who himself was like a father to Max. The next was Charles Leclerc, who was way too excited at rhe prospect of being an uncle that he forgot he wouldn't actually be related to the baby.

Both said the same thing: that Max should talk to Y/N about it.

But where was he to begin? How did he tell her, after seeing how happy she was, that he wasn't ready to have a baby.

When she started showing? Oh boy.

It was never something Y/N wanted to keep hidden. As soon as she had all the tests she had taken come back positive, she posted something to all of her social media's. Max did, too, playing his part well.

Y/N didn't wear baggy clothes to hide her bump; she showed it off with pride. At every single grand prix she'd be standing beside her husband, hand over her stomach and the press took pictures of them.

Most husbands, when their wife's baby bump began showing, would be over the moon. But when Y/N started showing, it just made Max more fearful.

Y/Ns very first proper indication of the was when they were discussing baby names.

Any moment she got, Y/N was writing down potential names. She had at least twenty of each.

"How do you like Felix?" Y/N asked him as they watched a movie together. Max had been sim racing all day; this was the first proper moment she'd had to spend with him. "Or Daniel?"

"Daniel can be the middle name if it's a boy," Max said as he fed her a Malteaser.

Y/N moved over to her list of girls names. "If it's a girl, I liked Mila. Thought Mila Verstappen had a really nice ring to it."

Max just hummed.

It was two weeks after that Y/N finally sat him down.

"What's going on with you?" She asked, her hand resting on her bump. That morning her snack of choice had been stroopwafels, and she'd accidentally finished the entire box (but who could blame her? They're addictive).

"What do you mean?" Asked Max as he lifted the box to see what he was inside. Nothing, empty. He made a mental note to buy more.

A terrible, horrible feeling settled in Y/Ns stomach. "Please, Maxie," she placed her hand over his, rubbing her thumb over his wrist. "Tell me what's going on. I'm begging you!"

Max let out a huff. He hated himself. "I love you," he said, which definitely wasn't concerning. "I love you so much and I know how excited you are to have our baby, but I don't know if I can do it."

Her heart was beating so loud she was sure Max could hear it. "Wha-what are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to say that I'm so fucking scared, Y/N. I'm terrified of being a dad. What if I raise our child like my dad raised me and the kid ends up like me? I'd never be able to forgive myself if that happened."

Oh. This wasn't a dire as Y/N thought it was. This was something she could deal with. "Come here," she said softly and tried to pull his chair closer. Max shuffled over. He let Y/N wrap her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. "Do you remember last summer, when we went on holiday with my sister and her kids? Do you remember how they loved you so much that they wouldn't leave you alone?"

They'd rented out a villa. Max and Y/N had just come back from their honeymoon when Y/N's sister had invited them away.

As soon as they had their things unpacked, the kids grabbed their uncle Max's hands and dragged him into the pool. "Let's race!" The oldest shouted. Max was more than happy to oblige. He raced them to the other side of the pool and back, letting them win, of course.

When Y/N and his sister started on lunch, Max was blowing up the inflatable pool toys and looking after the baby. He was a natural with all three of them. Y/N watched them out of the window as she buttered the bread and passed it to her sister. That was when she realised how wonderful of a father Max was going to be. That was when she realised she wanted to have his children.

By the end of the holiday, the children were obsessed with him. According to Y/N's sister they didn't stop talking about him until at least two weeks after the holiday.

Max nodded his head. At first he'd been secretly reluctant to entertain the kids. But he loved it, and he actually found it fun. Of course, it wouldn't be the same when it was his own child.

"You're going to be an amazing father, Max. You're so kind and caring and kids love you. Plus, you're aware of how shitty your dad was to you, you know what you have to differently," she said, running her fingers through his hair. "I'll be there with you every step of the way," Y/N whispered and kissed the top of her head.

Max was still terrified, but he was trying not to be. But Y/N saw him change. He really did become that cheering and happy father he was pretending to be at the start.

Aside from Formula One, Max's life became getting Y/N whatever she and the baby were craving. Stroopwafels, mostly.

They discussed names more when Max became more comfortable. He was a big fan of Nora. Nora Sophie Verstappen. It had a very nice ring to it, Max thought. Little baby Nora.

They'd struggled to settle on a name for a boy. After Max had suggested his mothers name for the baby's middle name, Y/N was afraid Jos' name was going to be thrown into the mix. Not after all of Max's fears and anxiety. They'd decided Hugo, Hugo Verstappen was to be his name.

If it was up to Y/N, Jos wouldn't be in the child's life. But, of course, it wasn't just up to her. It was a decision she and Max had to make together.

When they found out they were having a little boy, Y/N and Max were over the moon. They decorated the nursery, painting the walls to be like a Formula One track. The bottom third was all grass, the middle was the track and the rest was blue skies with fluffy clouds.

The track went all the way around the room, with little race cars painted onto the track. There was a little Red Bull with a 33 on it, and a little Ferrari with a 16. It was a friend who painted it for them, going into intricate details for the cars and garages.

And then Y/N went into labour.

All of those fears Max had managed to get past came flooding back. His wife was about to give birth to his little boy.

Max wasn't much help through the delivery. Actually, through most of it he wasn't allowed in the delivery room, since he was panicking too much.

He wasn't a Hugo. That was what Y/N and Max decided the moment he was born. He was a Fabian. Fabian Hugo Verstappen. He was the most gorgeous little boy in the world. That was all Max could think as he stared at him, cradles in his wife's arms.

His son. His boy.

"Welcome to the world, Fabian Hugo Verstappen."

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Revenge, a Dish Served Colder than Snow || Young!Coriolanus Snow x Reader

GIF by @kvtnisseverdeen and divider by @firefly-graphics

A/n: I'd just like to say that this is not book or movie accurate whatsoever. Finnick is not even alive yet when Coriolanus was in his early 20s. I just really wanted to include him in this because he's hot and I love him. Also, lets just imagine he has been gone long enough that the next hunger games was about to happen.

Warnings: choking, swearing if there are others lmk

Wc:

P.t 1 P.t 2

Coriolanus Snow Masterlist

Previous

“Go fuck yourself Coriolanus,” You sneer at him as you turn around but was stopped when his hand takes a hold of your arm. “The fuck did you just say to me?” He scrunches his eyebrows, fury in his blue eyes. You shake off his grip, staring at him square on. “I said, to go fuck yourself. Or, if you find her, go fuck Lucy Gray!” You rage, spinning around and walking out of the bathroom.

Coryo stands there in utter disbelief at what had just happened moments earlier. The image of you causing a scene infront of everybody and that tribute from district 4, his hands roaming around your body shamelessly. He felt pure rage coursing through his veins as he slams his fist against the wall.

~

Coriolanus watched with curious eyes once he saw you enter the room. He hadn't seen you for a couple weeks after that day he came back and moaned out Lucy Gray's name while fucking you. Even under that masquerade mask, Snow could tell it was you.

His eyebrow quirks up when he notices a man by your side. "Who is that?" He points to the mysterious man beside you as Livia looks over to where he was pointing. A chuckle leaves her lips, "Jealous, snow?" She swirls the alcohol in her flute before taking a sip.

"That right there beside your dear y/n is none other than Finnick Odair," Livia wets her lips. "A tribute. From district 4," She continues as Coriolanus' eyes follow the two of you, Finnick's hand resting far too low on your back for his liking.

"What is a fucking tribute doing with her then?" He scoffs, leaning forward on his seat. "Has your time as peacekeeper in district 12 forgotten how much power Y/n has?" She looks at him as if he was an idiot. "She just vouched for him, convinced her daddy to let him stay with her." Liv shrugs.

Coriolanus lets out a scoff, "Are you jealous of a district boy? He is pretty handsome don't you think. A strong competitor for sure," She says before standing up and leaving Snow in his thoughts. A few minutes later, he gets up from where he was sitting and manoeuvres his body across the crowd of elitist members and other wealthy people of Panem.

"What are you doing here with him?" Snow pops a grape into his mouth as you pause your actions and look to him by your side. Of course he was going to be here. "And why do you care? Coriolanus?" You chastise, "Do not. Call me that," He mutters at you, a stern expression on his face as you smirk.

"Well, if you must know. I took a liking to the tribute and let's just say, gotten quite comfortable with each other," A smile makes it to your lips as you could see Snow visibly annoyed. "He's a fucking tribute-" "Oh isn't that rich coming from you, Snow?" You let out a laugh as you face him. "That's exactly what I thought when I questioned your intentions with Lucy-" "Y/n, don't" "And there you were. Moaning her fucking name while inside me!"

You harshly say as a couple people around pause to look at you both. Coriolanus could tell you had drunk a bit more than you could handle. "Y/n, let's talk somewhere else," He takes your hands, ready to pull you away. You yank his grip off of you.

"No! I'm not done!" Snow runs a hand down his face at your loud outburst. "I never knew that you could stoop so fucking low you know. First it was cheating so that your precious tribute would win, and then you go chase her in her district and-" You couldn't finish your sentence as Coriolanus lurches towards him, hand gripping the base of your neck as your look at him in horror.

He squeezes it enough to make you shut up and gasp slightly for air. The people around you gasp at what had just happened. "Shut the fuck up. Shut your mouth before I do something I will regret," He spat, his hand squeezing as he shakes you."Get off of her!" Finnick shouts, pulling Snow away from you as you hold onto him, your hand touching your neck.

You then push Finnick away before doing something that further fueled the fire inside Coriolanus. You bowed. Just like her. Exactly like how Lucy Gray bowed at the reaping ceremony. A few stifled laughs could be heard throughout the room as Coriolanus looks horrified. He gulps, loosening his tie as you smirk at him

Coriolanus quickly leaves the room, breathing heavily as he runs his hands through his hair. He didn’t know what took over him. But he saw red the second you mentioned Lucy Gray. He swore he never intended to harm you. But he couldn’t help it.

His pent up emotions from the past couple of weeks needing diffusing. And you were pretty darn good at pushing specific buttons within him. Coriolanus caught glimpse of your figure entering the bathroom, he follows you whilst looking around, making sure no one was around.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, tears brimming your eyes as you study your neck, already bruising from his iron like grip. You were horrified, shocked, and most of all hurt, by Coriolanus. He never once touched you with such violence and he always reassured you that he would never hurt you and here you were. Crying in the bathroom stalls.

Even after the events that occurred when he came back, you couldn’t stop thinking about Coryo. You just couldn’t help yourself. He was your first everything. You lean your hands on the counter as you drop your head, tears cascading down your cheeks.

Coriolanus immediately heard your cries the minute he’s close to the bathroom door. He pauses. Leans his ear against the door and lets out sigh before entering. His entrance caught you by surprise as you stumble back upon seeing his tall figure.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you.” He says, sadness and guilt laced in his tone as he looks at you in sympathy, his eyes flickering your neck where he caused damage. You refused to meet his eyes as you turn your head to the side.

“But you should know better than to publicly humiliate me infront of everyone-“ A loud scoff emits your lips as you turn to him. “Go fuck yourself Coriolanus,” You sneer at him as you turn around but was stopped when his hand takes a hold of your arm. “The fuck did you just say to me?” He scrunches his eyebrows, fury in his blue eyes. You shake off his grip, staring at him square on. “I said, to go fuck yourself. Or, if you find her, go fuck Lucy Gray!” You rage, spinning around and walking out of the bathroom.

Coryo stands there in utter disbelief at what had just happened moments earlier. The image of you causing a scene infront of everybody and that tribute from district 4, his hands roaming around your body shamelessly. He felt pure rage coursing through his veins as he slams his fist against the wall.

Before you walk through the door, you stop and turn to face him. His expression angry, his hands were bawled up into fists, the wall beside him had a whole where he punctured it with his hand. “Don’t ever try talking to me again, Coriolanus. I mean it. Or I’ll do something you’ll regret.” You conclude before turning back around and walking away.

Coriolanus Snow knew without a doubt that you were capable of so many things that would hurt him, and his reputation. And he did not need further damage. So he listened. Regret seeped into him every single day as he left you alone. He would always watch you from afar though, he loved you, there was no denying.

What occurred that day with Lucy Gray was a mistake, a mistake he wished he could take back more than anything.

Taglist: @valenftcrush @ghostlycrystobalove @esquivelbianca @duds31 @threeinchminimum @shadowsepiphany @novacaneformybrain @crazylokonugget @unclecrunkle @darkqweenn @marihoneywk @beckinator7 @stelleduarte @1950schick @celineandtulips

[writersdrug]

COD men period comfort? 🥺

The way my period started right as I finished this... also, I have Endometriosis, so I wrote this with the idea that periods are very heavy and painful for the reader, sometimes making them bedridden. Shit's rough 🙃

CoD Headcannons: Comforting You While You're on Your Period

Fluff, slight nsfw, mentions of cramps and blood, mentions of fingerings, no "period? What's that?" behavior, these men are all educated, mentions of food anxiety, female anatomy

Captain John Price

If this was a competition, Price would be the winner. He doesn't need to look at your tracker app to know it's around the corner, he recognizes the signs immediately. As soon as you begin to dissociate for more than a minute or two, accompanied by your grumbles of how you've been craving junk food lately, he knows it's coming.

He's very intuitive when it comes to your needs. He knows you'll want to call out of work the first few days, so he does it for you. That way, you won't be stressing over it the night before. He plugs in your heating pad (leaving the setting on off, for now), so it's ready when you need it. He fills your water bottle with cold water, he fills the nightstand drawer with iron and protein laden snacks, and he puts a fresh box of your preferred pain medication in there as well. The bathroom is stocked with pads/tampons, and he even makes sure that the remote to the telly is on the nightstand.

He forces you to stretch every morning. It's the one time he ignores your protests and drags you out of bed, insisting you would feel much better - and he was right every time. He'd have you sit with your feet pointed forwards, bending your back until you could touch your toes.

"Gonna join me, John?"

"Psh, you know I'd snap like a twig, love."

Then he'd have you on your hands and knees, kneeling beside you and slowly guiding you to stretch your arms and arch your back, keeping your bum in the air (let's be honest, he doesn't kneel behind you for this because he'd be keeping you in that position for a different reason). He'd have a hand on your lower back, whispering small praises as you groaned from the relief. Once you were in that position, convincing you to get up was another hassle.

He understands that you can have mood swings - he always reminds you that communication is best, and even if you aren't sure what you want, you should still talk to him. Let him know if you're feeling too overstimulated, if his presence is a bit too overbearing in that moment, or if you want him there - whether that's sitting in a chair next to the bath while you take a soak, his hand running over your hair, or if he's cradling you in bed, hands gently massaging your abdomen/lower back.

You feel a bit silly, sometimes - being treated like a porcelain doll. As you promised him you would, you communicate with John that you feel bad that he's pampering you so much, and that you can't exactly return the favour at the moment. He'd listen, never shushing you or interrupting you, and at the end of your venting, he'd assure you that not only is this his obligation as your partner, but it's also something he enjoys doing - looking after you when you need it most.

As for making it up? "We'll explore what options there are when you're feeling up t' it" (He's talking about ovulation week).

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You tell Gaz when your period is coming. He's not as intuitive as Price, but he appreciates that you let him know, and he helps you plan for the next few days. You go shopping together, stocking up on snacks, meds, and Liquid IV (Gaz had originally introduced you to it, and now it's an essential when you're on your period).

He once bought you a period massager that you found online. You thought it was the best invention ever, with both a massage and a heat setting, but it never could compare to Gaz's hands. You eventually ended up putting it on a shelf in the closet after telling him through tears, all while he massaged your stomach, that it felt like you were replacing him, and you hated it. You wanted to throw the damn thing away, but he convinced you that you might change your mind later.

Gaz treats this time of the month like it's the most normal thing in the world. Of course, he pampers you, giving you cuddles when you want them and helping you through the emotional shipwreck in your mind, but he knows you don't like feeling like you're helpless. So he does it all in the most nonchalant way possible. He'll play video games with you as the both of you lounge in bed; whenever you want a snack, he grabs one for himself (partially because you mentioned once that you don't like eating by yourself, partially because he's always hungry).

He refers to your period in different ways each time it comes around. "Is it shark week?" "I got you some more tampons, babe, for the ritual." Or, his favorite, when he sees you scowling at your period tracker app: "Ya got mad cow disease again, luv?"

He'll watch true crime with you per your request, but he's not thrilled about it. You've had to correct him multiple times that it's not about the killing, it's about the mystery of solving each murder that intrigues you. More often than not, you'll look up from where you're laying on his chest, and he'll be watching the telly with a grimace.

"What's wrong, Kyle?"

"It was the landlord - guy looks fishy, and his alibi is shit."

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish

Johnny understands what a period is - he's a smart man. However, when it comes to your cravings and raging emotions, he's like a devil on your shoulder. If you thought you were impulsive during this time of the month, he only adds fuel to the fire.

He comes back after a trip to the grocery store, announcing that he purchased everything you need for the next few days. The "everything" in question? Crisps, wine, and candy (your favorite candy, sure, but not much chocolate). You don't have the heart to tell him that, while you enjoy all the snacks and alcohol he bought, it's not necessarily the best food for your period - although, the part of your brain that was craving it was thanking him over and over.

You would be lying on top of him on the sofa, the telly playing a show that had been neglected by the both of you. He'd be rubbing your lower back with one hand and massaging your scalp with the other, listening to you as you tearfully explained how much you missed your childhood family dog, a husky named Janet.

"- and she was so cuddly and protective- *sniff*- and she- did I tell you, she used to howl when I cried, like- like she was crying with me? God, I miss her-"

"Sweetheart, why don' we just get ye a pup, eh? A husky, just like Janet, and ye can both howl together whenever ye feel like it."

"No- *sniff*- no, Johnny, we shouldn't-"

"Why not? It'll keep ye company when ah'm away. Ah've always wanted a pup myself, y'know."

It really didn't take much more convincing than that. The next day, Johnny was walking into the flat, holding a husky pup cradled in one arm, and a bag of dog toys and food in the other. You had already forgotten his suggestion to get the dog, and would have scolded him for being so impulsive, but the cuteness aggression had already set in. You squealed and ran over to Johnny, crying happy tears between peppering his face with kisses and cooing at the puppy. He had the proudest smile on his face, seeing how much happier you looked compared to the day before.

Oh, and if you tell this man your breasts are sore? He's running across the room, fast enough to break the sound barrier, to offer you a helping hand (or two).

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon has to remind himself that, when you're on your period, you don't always think logically. He's extremely patient with you, but he isn't the best with words. Or, rather, he isn't well-versed in the backwards rationality that comes with your period.

"Simon, can we get Chinese?"

"Sure, luvie, if you want it."

"Will you eat some?"

"Honestly, 'm not really hungry. But we can get what you want."

"... no, I'm ok. Nevermind."

"Wha'? Why not?"

"I don't need it."

Simon still doesn't understand why you won't eat without him, but he knows not to question it. He does, however, order your favorite takeout anyways, and he'll feed it to you if you still insist that you don't want it. He may steal a bite or two if you let him.

Like every good partner, he understands what a period is, and he understands the pain and frustration it causes you. He's still never entirely sure of how to help you, and he often doubts that he's being helpful at all. But that's where his military experience came in clutch: you tell him what to do, and he does it. You want to cuddle? "Scoot over f' me, luv." You want time alone? No worries, he can do some of his own work, just shout if you need him. You're running low on tampons and medication? He'll drop whatever he's doing and run to the corner store for it.

Massage KING, and he doesn't even know it. He huffs and says you're just trying to flatter him when you tell him how good at it he is. He treats you like you're in a spa, too: he dims the lights, he makes you wear an eye mask, he'll turn on the fan because he knows you love the white noise... he'll kneel behind you as you lay on your stomach, and this man will deliver the most tender, slow, and soothing massage of your life. His hands are already so huge and warm, and he somehow flawlessly works you into a drooling puddle each time.

He can't lie: seeing you there, passed out and snoring, no longer complaining about your aches and pains, fills him with just as much pride as it does relief. He's happy you're feeling well enough to rest, and that he's the one to get you there. He'll slowly get up, covering your lower back with the heating blanket, before leaving to replenish your thermos with tea.

König

Whenever you mention that your period is coming soon, he always panics a little. König is a strong soldier, not bothered or phased by much. But when it comes to you, he hates knowing that you're in pain, and that he can't do anything to fix it (despite how often you assure him that he's helping).

This man goes all out. He fills the fridge with healthy, colorful fruits and vegetables, meat, and a pitcher of your favorite drink. He has your heating pad ready to go by your bedside, along with two thermoses, one of hot tea and one of ice-cold water. He sets up a small tray in the bathroom with tampons, pads, fresh underwear, and even a few pairs of shorts. He has a fan in the corner of the room, pointed at the bed and ready to go if you need it. He even takes off work for a few days - he refuses to leave your side when you're in pain.

Like Ghost, he likes being told what to do. If you ask him to turn on the fan, to turn off the lights, or to refill your thermos, he's up and doing it before you can finish your sentence. He hangs on your every word like it might be your last (you'd think with how he acts while you're on your period, you might be dying). He snuggles you every second you're in bed, and despite it being a bit warm, you don't mind the constant affection.

He cooks for you no less than twice daily, and this man can COOK. In no way, shape, or form does König skimp on seasonings and portion sizes when it comes to you. He carries you to the kitchen and sits you on the counter so he can keep an eye on you while he prepares you a hearty, nutritious meal (he needs to make sure you're eating well, schatz, but he'll let you scrounge for lunch, if that's what you really want). Sits with you at the dining table and holds your hand while the both of you eat, listening to you talk. If neither of you have anything to say, or if you're dissociating, he'll just sit and enjoy the silence with you, occasionally brushing your hair from your face and leaning over to kiss your cheek.

Sometimes, he'll do some of his work in bed with you, if he absolutely can't put it off any longer. You were once snuggled up to him, half asleep in the crook of his arm as he typed away on his laptop. He would occasionally rub his large hand over your lower stomach if he heard you groaning in pain from your cramps.

"Schnuki?"

"Mm?"

"Do you want me to finger you?"

That just about made you bolt upright like a rocket. "What?!"

He pointed to his screen. "Everyone says it makes you feel better, no?"

"König, um..." You didn't hate the idea, but didn't he? "I thought you were working?"

"C'mon, liebe-" he closed his computer and put it on the nightstand, rolling on top of you. "Relax for me, I'll make you feel good..."

Please just let this man take care of you and tell him he's doing a good job, it's all he wants.

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LADS Sylus: Sweet Night | SFW

Am I entering a Sylus era? No, no I'm not. I just love them all and got this idea real fast and needed to quickly type it out.

Pairings: Sylus x Reader Warnings: None Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Sylus

Whenever he goes to bed, you're just waking up, and whenever it's time for you to go to bed, he's already drinking his morning coffee in the kitchen. It was one of the few things you absolutely despised about your schedules. Just once, you wanted to fall asleep in his arms.

Sylus could see it on your face as you were pouting, heading towards the bedroom. You didn't even know when you came to just casually sleep at his place almost every night, but it was part of your routine now.

"Sweetie, what's wrong?" he asked, noticing how you seemed to be sulking as you turned to him. How did you even voice what you wanted? It wasn't like he could help it, in the end. His meetings took place late evening and at night, while your work started early in the day.

He noticed the hesitation as he walked over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him, "Come on, you can tell me." he coaxed, his words sweet and gentle in your ears, a tone reserved only for you.

You let out a sigh, looking up at him, "I just...do you think sometime we can...go to bed together. And wake up together?" you decided a direct approach was always best with Sylus. He was accommodating to you all the time, as long as you spoke what was on your mind.

He hummed, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your temple, "Is that all you wanted?" he murmured against you, "Then how about...next week? I can clear my schedule then, and we can have a day, start to finish." he settled on, making your heart soar.

"You'd do that for me?" you asked, feeling so content in the moment as he hummed, the sound vibrating against you.

"It's not like you're asking for much, sweetie, honestly you could've asked for far more and I'd still go along with it." he said and you chuckled.

"I'll hold you to that, then." you said, reaching an arm up to drag him down for a quick kiss.

You felt like that week dragged on, your entire mind only focusing on your plans for Friday night. Getting off work and immediately heading towards the N109 zone. You were exhausted beyond belief, but the comforting feeing of walking into the familiar Onychinous base made you feel at ease.

Instead of seeing Sylus in his robe, sipping on coffee while going through his phone, you saw him still fully dressed from his day. He had a sweet smile as he beckoned you closer.

A warm shower, soft words, and finally, finally, the soft embrace of his bed. HIs arms wrapped securely around you as you pressed your face into his neck, your hand over his chest so you could feel his heartbeat. Even still, it ran wild, but that too was oddly calming for you now.

He squeezed you closer to him, and he looked just as exhausted as you were, "Did you pull an all dayer for this?" you teased him, your voice coming out softer now as he looked at you and smirked.

"Obviously," he murmured, "I wouldn't be able to sleep if I was working off my normal schedule." he said, pinching your side and making you squirm closer to him until you were hooking a leg around his.

You were silent for a moment as you thought things over, "I...thank you for doing this for me." you finally said, pressing a kiss to the wide expanse of his chest that you could reach from your angle.

"It's not much, you shouldn't praise someone doing the bare minimum, darling," he said, "Raise your standards."

"My standards are already incredibly high thanks to you, sir," you scoffed playfully. His face was pressed into your hair now, and you could feel him smiling against you.

"That's how it should be...besides, this seemed important to you. You seemed stressed last week about the whole ordeal." he pointed out and you blinked for a moment, processing his words. You didn't realize you had shown that many signs of it bothering you, but Sylus did have a tendency to be able to read you like an open book.

"Ya, I guess I was..." you said, "I just," the words were embarrassing to admit, "Tara had talked about how nice it was to fall asleep and wake up in the arms of her current boyfriend, and I felt a bit envious over it. I thought that wouldn't be possible for us."

Sylus hummed, "If you want, I can put more of an effort into laying with you until you fall asleep, and coming back before you wake up." he commented.

"What if I wake up in the middle of the night?"

"Then call me, and I'll come back," he said, "Now hush, we're both tired, and need sleep. As much as I enjoy our little talk, you had a long day, didn't you?" he asked and you hummed.

"I assume Mephisto was reporting about my work day?"

"He always does," Sylus said, "Now sleep, I promise, for at least tonight, even if you wake up in the middle of the night, I'll still be here."

"Alright, goodnight Sylus."

"Goodnight, sweetie."