#six out of seven islands to go

[cossiemoss]

how's your pikmin

Sorry I didn't see this until now!

Hibiscus is doing great!! 🌺

He's been taking a small break to regain his energy after the long trip. I tend to find him hanging out on a little, grassy sidewalk. It reminds him of Hawaii.

Hibiscus on his favorite sidewalk.

He's been really into collages lately, and has been asking for postcards or magazines of the Hawaiian islands

( He was very surprised when we told him there's more than one island, and he'd only visited Maui. )

He's been cutting out the photos and gluing them to things.

He's really been getting into the native culture!

At some point I saw him building a miniature scale model of Maunaloa 🌋 with sticks and sap.

He must be making another one because he asked for some more magazines and glue a few days ago.

Come to think of it, I haven't seen him recently... And I think my compass is missing?

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 20 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley gets the update he's been waiting for. You get something you weren't expecting. Neither of you can tell the other how you're feeling.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, romantic Bradley, 18+

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

You drove Bradley's Bronco back to his house, dragged yourself back inside, and climbed back in bed. You cried so hard when you watched him carry his duffle bag into the airport, you had painful hiccups for twenty minutes afterwards. Now you were emotionally drained and on the cusp of a headache, and this was only the first day.

With your cheek on Bradley's pillow, you pulled the covers over your head and took a few deep breaths. He didn't know much about his deployment, but the communication blackout was designed to keep you from learning anything. If something happened to him, it might be weeks before you heard about it. Your heart ached as you thought about how lonely he was going to feel after he made it a point to tell you how much he loved getting mail from your class last time.

You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, and you scrambled to get it out.

About to take off. I love you, Gorgeous. I'll let you know when I land.

Well, you had about six hours to kill until you would hear from him again, which felt bad enough. Then seven full weeks after that. You typed back to him with fresh tears in your eyes, and then you tried to sleep, but the hiccups came back. When you moved to the couch, it felt too cold. You were tempted to call Natasha, but if you couldn't even make it a handful of hours without Bradley, you didn't think she would be able to help you.

It would start to get better. It would have to. When your winter break ended, you'd be back in your classroom with your students. You could dive into your lesson plans for the new year. You could focus on teaching. You could do this. Because if you found out the hard way that you couldn't, then you had no business being with Bradley.

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

Bradley was given a tiny room in the barracks on base in Norfolk, and he spent the entire night talking to you on the phone. Literally six hours straight before he passed out, sound asleep, hanging halfway off the bed with his phone connected to the charger. One of the last things he remembered you saying was, "As soon as you know if it's San Diego or Norfolk, let me know. I love you."

The following morning, he was so exhausted, he was practically dizzy as he met with his commanding officer, Admiral Walker, for this new special deployment. Even his arm felt heavy as he saluted Walker in his office. It was barely seven o'clock which equated to four in the morning in San Diego, and he knew it would take him a few days to get caught back up on sleep at this point. But every second of talking to you was worth it.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw. Welcome back to the Atlantic Fleet," Walker told him, gesturing to the empty chair in the office. 

"Thank you, Sir," he replied, even though he was far less than thrilled to be back in Virginia at all. The prospect of a change of station could not have come at a worse time when he spent the flight from California looking at engagement rings on his phone.

As Bradley sat down, the older man said, "We never wanted to lose you to the Pacific in the first place, so I'm sure you can understand why you'll be staying on the east coast after your seven weeks on the Gerald R. Ford is complete."

His heart sank to his feet, and he felt like he was going to throw up. "Sir?" Bradley asked. "That's it? There's no chance of me returning to North Island?"

When the response he got was a raised eyebrow, Bradley pressed his lips into a line. This man wasn't going to give a shit that he owned a house in Coronado or that he was in love with the most beautiful woman in the world who happened to work in Mira Mesa. Something told him that keeping his mouth shut was the better option right now, even though he felt like punching a hole in the wall and flipping the desk.

Walker shuffled some papers on his desk. "Plans still need to be finalized, but it is our goal, and the goal of the US Navy, to change your station to Norfolk."

The words echoed in Bradley's mind. He couldn't decide if he should tell you about this yet. It wasn't like he had signed paperwork in his hand. Until he did, as far as he was concerned, he was going back to Top Gun and the love of his life. He knew you were stressed and concerned enough as it was, and he didn't want you to have to dwell on this unless it was finalized. 

"Once aboard the carrier, mission details will become available to you and the other aviators," Walker informed him. "I have a folder with your bunk assignment and some more information that you can take with you right now. You'll have access to your phone for about another hour, but as soon as you report to the carrier, it will need to be shut down and locked up. Are we clear, Lieutenant?"

Before Bradley could even respond, there was a sharp knock at the door. Walker heaved a weary sigh as his gaze left Bradley's face, and he barked, "Come in."

Of all the faces he knew from North Island, Bradley wasn't exactly sure if it was a friendly one, but when the door opened, Admiral Simpson came strolling inside in his service khakis. He couldn't fathom why his meeting was being interrupted by Cyclone, but he sat quietly with the folder in his hands. 

"Admiral Walker," Beau Cyclone greeted, voice as stern as ever. "You never returned my calls, and red eye flights the week of Christmas are not something I find endearing."

Walker stood behind his desk with all of his accolades hanging on the wall behind him, and Bradley jumped to his feet as well. "Admiral Simpson," Walker replied, voice dripping with disdain. "There was no need for you to fly out in person to release your pilot to my fleet."

Bradley could hear Cyclone's knuckles crack as he watched his eye twitch. He was somehow caught in the middle of this, but it looked like the Top Gun admiral was in no mood to be outmaneuvered and lose a member of his team. Bradley silently goaded him on while he stood there completely still.

"I'm not releasing anyone to you. That's not how this works," Cyclone barked. "If you can't manage your fleet, you don't get to poach from mine."

The admirals seemed to be in a competition to see whose face could get redder. "Admiral Simpson, I'm sure you'll find my rank alone is reason enough for-"

"You do not outrank me," Cyclone interrupted, voice loud but calm. Then he turned toward Bradley with his jaw clenched and said, "Lieutenant Bradshaw. You are dismissed. Please board the USS Gerald R. Ford on time for your deployment."

"Yes, Sir," he replied, saluting both men before walking back out into the hallway on slightly unsteady legs. He paused, hoping to hear some more of their conversation or an outright blow up that would give him a clue as to what the fuck was going on, but instead he walked the rest of the way to the barracks to collect his duffle and head to the docks. 

With his phone in his hand once again and his bag slung over his shoulder, Bradley called you. He knew it was early and he'd be waking you up, but time was tight now. And your voice was the only thing that would keep him sane at the moment. 

"Bradley," you sighed a second later, and he pressed his phone tighter to his ear. 

"Baby, I miss you so much," he promised, heart aching. He swallowed hard and decided not to bring up anything that was going on since he didn't have a completely clear understanding of it himself. "I'm about to board the carrier."

He could hear you crying, and he wanted to kick himself. "Just come back safely. That's all I want. As long as you're safe, that's all that matters to me, okay?"

He was having a hard time keeping his own tears at bay. "Me, too. We'll figure out the rest of it later, Gorgeous. Take care of yourself. Write in the journal. And don't forget to check the mail."

"I love you, Bradley!"

"I love you so much."

As soon as he ended the call and turned off his phone, he had to walk through a small building for security screening. It was there that his bag and phone were taken from him. When he exited the other side, his duffle was handed back to him, but his phone was not.

"Sorry, Lieutenant," the petty officer told him with a shrug when he glared. "I'll tag it for you and return it when you get back to Norfolk. At least it's not a long deployment."

Bradley couldn't even argue with that. It wasn't that long in the grand scheme of things. He'd been overseas for a full twelve months at a time when he was younger. This should have felt like nothing, but he knew it would feel like the worst one. He hefted his bag higher on his shoulder and started to head for the bunk that would be his for the duration. There was no sense in standing on deck when there was nobody who would be looking for him to see him off.

He made it down two hallways before a loud voice echoed off the walls around him. "Lieutenant Bradshaw." When he turned, Admiral Simpson was heading his way, face so red it was almost purple. Bradley's heart sank.

"Yes, sir?"

The other man pulled his composure together, sighing like an angry bull. "While you will be under the command of Admiral Walker for this deployment, you will fly directly back to San Diego when you return to port in Norfolk. You'll be presented with the paperwork today."

Bradley's jaw dropped open. "I'm returning to the Pacific Fleet, Sir?"

He got one firm nod in response. "I told you last week that I would do what I could to retain you."

This was honestly the best case scenario, and Bradley could feel some of his tension melt away. "You weren't kidding," he mumbled before clearing his throat. "Thank you, Sir. Being in San Diego is important to me."

"Fly safely, Lieutenant. See you in seven weeks," Cyclone barked before turning on his heel and walking toward the ramp back down to the dock.

Bradley pumped his fist in the air. "Fuck, yeah," he whispered, spinning on the spot. He would get to go back to the station he preferred in North Island as well as his friends, but most importantly, he would get to return to you. There would be no stress of packing and moving and hoping you were still willing to come with him. He could stay in Coronado.

When he slid his hand into his pocket to get his phone out to call you back, he froze. "God damn it."

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

If waiting for emails and letters was bad before, this was torture. The early days of getting to know Bradley through written notes left you with constant butterflies in your tummy, but now it felt like you were walking around with a lead weight instead. You constantly caught yourself reaching for your phone to text him before setting it back down in frustration. 

You hadn't heard from him since before he stepped onto the aircraft carrier, and that was four days ago. Today was New Year's Eve, and at least you had the wine bar with Natasha to look forward to. While you got dressed and ready to go, you couldn't help but put in just the bare minimum amount of effort. What was the point when your boyfriend wasn't even here to give you kisses along your neck and call you Gorgeous? You pouted at your reflection in the bathroom mirror and put the cap on your lip gloss before even using it.

"You look nice," Nat said as you climbed in the front seat of her car. You turned to look at her with one eyebrow raised.

"I'm wearing Bradley's old sweatshirt with a pair of leggings that are starting to get a hole in the crotch."

She started cackling as she pulled away from the curb. "Well, you still look nice."

"Thanks," you said softly, watching the houses go by. 

As Nat turned toward the highway to head up to Oceanside, she asked, "How are you making out?"

You pressed your lips together for a few seconds, trying to make sure you weren't going to cry. "I'm just having a hard time being off from work while he's gone. It's... harder than I thought it would be. I can't wait to return to my classroom in a few days."

"I'm sure that will make it easier," she agreed. "You'll be so busy, time will start to fly by. Oh, I forgot to ask if you got any interesting mail at Bradley's house since he left?"

You shook your head. "I barely remember to check the mailbox most days. Why?"

"Don't worry about it," she replied smoothly. "You'll be back to work in a few days, but in the meantime, we've got merlot and chardonnay to keep your mind occupied."

"Sounds like you're talking about two hot French men," you said with a laugh.

"I could be! You don't even know!"

Now both of you were laughing. And you were still laughing when you actually did order a glass of merlot and a glass of chardonnay. You and Nat enjoyed some wine flights and cheese platters, and she regaled you with stories about Bradley from flight school.

"When he was twenty-two, he probably weighed a hundred and twenty pounds," she said with a smirk. "He was such a nerd, too. God, it was so bad." You were trying to stifle your laughter as she added, "Once he really started working out and grew the mustache, he thought he was hot shit. He's still a fucking nerd."

"He kind of is," you agreed through your giggles.

"But he's a good one," she promised. "Wears his heart on his sleeve too often, but I don't think he has to worry about you breaking it."

You ran your hand along the sleeve of his sweatshirt. "Never."

Once the two of you were filled with cheese and sober enough to get back in the car, you paid for your adventure with the gift card Bradley gave you, only to find out it had five hundred dollars on it.

"Natasha! We need to come back like four more times," you said as you signed the slip.

"I don't see any issue with that," she muttered, leaving cash for a tip. "I think I'll write Bradley an email and thank him for funding girls' day so he can read it when he gets back to Norfolk."

"I think he'd like that."

You started thinking about the journal sitting on the nightstand in his bedroom. Every night before you fell asleep, you'd been pouring your heart and thoughts out into the thing, but even the mention of the word Norfolk had you fretting again. You managed to keep up the conversation with Bradley's best friend as she drove you back to Coronado, but perhaps you should keep most of your things packed after you moved your stuff to his house. What if you had to move to Virginia when the school year ended?

"Thanks for driving," you told her when she pulled up to Bradley's driveway to let you out.

"Anytime," she said, waving you off. "We'll go back up again soon." When you leaned in to give her a hug, she told you, "Don't forget to check the mail."

"Okay."

You weren't sure exactly what her deal was since Bradley couldn't send you anything, but if she wanted you to, then you would. You already promised your boyfriend you'd keep an eye on anything unusual that arrived, so as you walked up to the front door, you took a peek inside the mailbox. Empty. Just like the house. You curled up on the couch with the journal and started to write your daily entry.

I heard from a very reliable source (Natasha) that you were and still are a nerd. I'm going to need to see some pre-stache photos of you when you get home. Your best friend is a wealth of information when you get some wine in her, and I had a great time with her today. 

But I miss you. So much. Sometimes it knocks the breath out of my lungs. Your house is too cold and quiet without you here, hogging the couch and eating snacks. I'm looking forward to school starting up in a few days. It'll be a little less lonely when I have eighteen kids telling me what they got for holiday gifts. Of course I'll have to tell them they won't get a visit from their favorite aviator for a while. We'll just be nineteen sad pen pals.

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

On January second, you were working on your lesson plans while wearing Bradley's gym shorts and eating potato chips. Tomorrow you'd get back into a routine with work, but first you were going to allow yourself one last day of being kind of pitiful. You bit off more than you could chew with Bradley, and now you were paying the price. 

You sporadically started crying at random times throughout the day, and it was only made worse by the overwhelming feeling of being alone. If you could barely make it a week without hearing from him, how were you going to make random deployments with no communication your lifestyle? Why did you even think you could?

While you were crunching your way through some potato chips, you heard something thump on the front porch. The sound made you jump on the couch, and you set your snack down on the table and crept to the front door. When you peeked outside, there was nobody there, but when you cracked the door open, you saw a box. A fairly large box. Addressed to you.

"Oh my god," you gasped. It was from Bradley. According to the date stamped next to your name, he somehow sent a box from the post office in San Diego last week. "Oh my god!"

You grabbed it and kicked the door shut, almost tripping on your way back to the coffee table. When you tried to claw at the tape, you almost broke your nails. "Scissors," you shouted, running for the kitchen drawer by the sink where your boyfriend kept a random assortment of junk. Then you walked quickly back to the couch and started to cut into the box.

Natasha had to be behind the arrival of the box, but you couldn't fathom what could possibly be inside. If Bradley wanted you to have something, he could have simply given it to you before he left. Your heart was pounding as you set the scissors down and looked inside.

"Bradley," you gasped, tears filling your eyes as those familiar butterflies zoomed and swooped around in your belly. You'd been so upset about missing out on his letters, he sent you a whole box of them. There were dozens of envelopes and little treats filling the box nearly to the top, but a neon orange envelope with OPEN ME FIRST written on it caught your eye. You pulled it out of the box and tore into it.

Hey, Gorgeous,

I'm thinking about you right now. Guaranteed. It doesn't matter when you get this box or when you read this note, I'm thinking about how much I love you. And if I'm asleep, I'm dreaming about us eating Thai food on the beach in front of a sunset that is nowhere near as beautiful as you.

I hope you realize there was no way you weren't going to get some letters from me while I'm deployed. I would never let that happen. Somehow, you fell in love with me this way in the first place, and more than anything, I want you to feel as loved as I do. So I filled this box with little notes and long, rambling love letters and things I thought you might like. When you read the individual envelopes, you'll know what to do.

Please fill that journal up for me. I can't wait to read it in seven weeks. I'm missing you like crazy, and I selfishly hope you're missing me just as much. I love you.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

With shaking hands, you set the note down on the orange envelope and swiped at your tears. You never dreamed you would meet a man this romantic, but somehow you did, and he became your boyfriend. "Oh, Bradley," you whispered, picking up a stack of envelopes and reading what was written on each one.

Open me when you've had a bad day

Open me when you really want some coffee

Open me when you need a laugh

Open me when you're in bed

Open me when you need a girls' night

Open me with your class

You flopped down onto the couch and kicked your feet in the air. "Bradley!" you shrieked, voice breaking as you started to cry. You hugged the letters to your chest and let the warm feeling of being loved wash over you and fill your heart. He was unbelievable. He was perfect. He was everything you wanted. And somehow you loved him a little more and missed him a little less with this box on the coffee table.

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

He's so romantic. He's taking care of Gorgeous from afar! He's coming home to San Diego, but she doesn't even know it! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls and @daggerspare-standingby

PART 21

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[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - Part 16

First | Masterlist

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Fandom: DP x DC Summary:

Danny is just trying to build a portal home, becoming a thief was just an unfortunate side effect of that goal. Now if only this vigilante family would just leave him alone. Especially Red Hood - the semi retired crime lord whose ghost-like presence keeps drawing Danny to him.

Part 16:

Jason carefully kept his writing legible as he wrote down the heating instructions. Considering Ghost seemed to be living off granola bars he was not taking any chances. 

There were signs Ghost had returned a few times. The bag and calibrator was gone of course, and the sandwiches were disappearing. It wasn’t good enough. Ghost needed more than sandwiches, it was better than living solely on granola bars, but it was not enough. He needed something more energy dense - hence the meat and vegetable stew and the mashed potatoes he’d made, packed in portions for easy reheating. But he had to make sure it was easy, he didn’t want to risk it being too bothersome and him not eating any. 

Slowly, deliberately he put the pen down so he didn’t break it and laid his hands down flat on the kitchen island. Jason was in control, not the pits. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, counting the seconds… 

…seven… eight…

Carefully he pushed the voice away that insisted he just lay a trap instead of all this tip-toeing around. It would be all too easy, Tim had found out how to short-circuit his powers. It hadn’t lasted more than an hour or two, but really there was no reason they couldn’t just attach some sort of device to him and repeat the small EMP charge every hour - it would be easy.

It would be horrible.

It was not how Jason wanted to go about it. Fucking Pits. Fucking intrusive thoughts. He hung his head taking deep breaths. He just wanted a little bit of peace of mind, was that too much to ask?

A half-choked gasp sounded behind him and he spun around wide-eyed. There, across the living room section of the open plan apartment was Ghost halfway through the far wall. His eyes were wide and looked as shocked as Jason felt. 

Jason didn’t dare breathe as he slowly raised his empty hands. One wrong move and he could ruin everything. He swallowed dryly and ever so slowly he stepped to the side around the kitchen island and backwards, away from Ghost, deeper into the kitchen, cornering himself, leaving all exits free - even if Ghost didn’t technically need any. Ghost followed his movements warily only moving his head, his body completely frozen, still only halfway through the wall. 

Jason’s back hit the cupboards. It was as far as he could remove himself. It was all he could do. The ball was in Ghost’s court. 

Please don’t run.

Jason didn’t think he could handle that one more time. 

Oo o oO

Danny kept his eyes locked on the currently helmet-less not ghost. His heart rabbited in his chest and his whole body felt coiled like a spring, torn between running or going forward. He was terrified, but he also yearned-

Danny had become complacent. He wasn’t sure how it happened, but he cursed himself for it now. He’d just moved thoughtlessly through the wall and his ghost sense had only had time to warn him when his eyes could do just as well. The barely there mist had fizzled uselessly out of his mouth when he gasped. 

Helmet moved carefully away from Danny, as far away as he could in the kitchen. His hands were raised as if in surrender. He looked as harmless as a six foot tank could, which to be fair, it wasn’t the size of the man, that scared Danny. No, it was the fact that his entire body screamed trap. Danny was not keen on a repeat of his powers being gone, and the risk, the knowledge of it, it threatened to tear apart his painstakingly assembled composure. 

Red Helmet might have taken him away from the other vigilantes, but he was still one of them. Danny just could not let himself trust him and it hurt, deeper than his still fucked up ribs. It hurt just to keep his core in a chokehold to stop it from calling to him. Never mind the near irresistable longing; Danny wanted so badly to go to him. 

Danny couldn’t let himself. 

Yet it was Helmet, not Danny, cornered right now. Caught in the act of something at the kitchen island. There was a small piece of paper on the island and Danny was curious. 

And there were also still so many unanswered questions. How could he hear Danny but not respond? What was that thing about the anger he’d mentioned? Why had he given Danny back his backpack and the spectral calibrator? The calibrator in particular, because that one strictly speaking didn’t belong to Danny. Why was he stocking up food in an apartment he clearly didn’t live in? For Danny?

All were questions he couldn’t get answers to by running away. 

Danny just had to keep his instincts on a tight leash. 

Watching warily for any sudden movements, Danny slowly phased the rest of the way into the apartment. His beat up sneakers barely made a sound as he touched down on the wooden floors, but still Danny flinched. 

Their eyes met and both held their breath.

Helmet looked away first. In fact he pointedly looked anywhere but at Danny now, seemed very intent on studying the counter now picking at non-existent dirt. 

Somehow him not looking made it easier to walk closer and he carefully did. There was a whole kitchen island between them - that had to be enough for Danny’s paranoia. 

He now stood where Helmet had stood when he came through the wall, he could pick up the paper. 

It was heating instructions - for him.

His resolve crumbled and the paper crinkled as he clutched it like his life depended on it. Such a little detail. Not just the food left here, but instructions. When was the last time anyone had cared like this?

“Why-” His voice broke and tears prickled at his eyes. He cleared his throat and swallowed before trying again. “Why are you doing this?”

He looked from Danny to the note in his hand, seemed to mentally discard something, before admitting quietly, “I know what starving is like.” 

Danny balked. “I eat.”

“I took a backpack full of protein bars off you.”

Danny grimaced. Just eating the sandwiches left for him here had been a vast improvement. So what if he didn’t eat well, he ate enough to survive. The fact that Danny could cling to existence through force of will was something he didn’t want to examine - his human half was still alive that had to be what mattered. 

“So this anger thing,” Danny forcefully changed the subject like a bull bursting into a China shop, “tell me about it.”

Helmet tensed and that in turn made Danny tense. He might have overstepped. The moment was long and drawn out as Danny waited for the other shoe to drop. Slowly, Helmet let out a long sigh and forcefully relaxed his body. It didn’t put Danny entirely at ease, but it helped.

“There’s not much to tell,” he faked at nonchalance but there was something tightly leashed in his voice. 

Danny didn’t buy it for one second. “Try again.”

There was a grimace and it looked almost like there was some sort of internal fight going on, until eventually he spoke. 

“I got exposed to some nasty shit, ever since then I’ve had anger issues. I only realized once they were gone how pervasive they were.”

He looked away.

“I have hurt people - killed people - I thought they deserved it, but I’m not so sure anymore, not for all of them.” And there was pain there, in his voice, in his face, this was a hard thing to admit, not just to himself, but out loud to someone else. 

Danny’s heart ached for him. The silence stretched between them and Danny prompted gently, hesitantly, because he didn’t understand this part himself: “And I make it better?”

“For about two days, give or take.” There was an affected casualness in the tone, but Danny noticed the way his hands clenched into tight fists. It had been about two weeks since Danny had last been in a room with the man. Two weeks since Danny had had any physical contact. He harshly clamped down the projection of longing before it could escape his grasp. 

It was, Danny realized, no wonder that Helmet had chased him so vehemently. He could not only hear Danny’s call for him, but he had something of his own he struggled with. Something that Danny could apparently do something about, or rather his core song, if Danny was putting the pieces together right.  

But Helmet wasn’t chasing now. It must have been two torturous weeks.

“You have found a way to nullify my powers, why not just use that?”

Helmet’s jaw clenched. “It’s not exactly nice.”

“Didn’t stop you two weeks ago.”

“I had nothing to do with that!” He snarled taking a step forward eyes glowing ectoplasmic green.

Danny took a step back at once cautious and intrigued. Not a ghost, but definitely something. 

It looked like it took great effort, but he stepped back, plastered himself back against the cupboard and his eyes were blue again. Softly, he whispered “I only ever wanted answers.”

He wanted help. Danny’s breath caught. He was asking Danny for help, even if it wasn’t in those specific words. Danny looked down at the handwritten note in his hand. Helmet hadn’t planned for meeting today. He’d been just as shocked as Danny. He’d written him instructions with no guarantee Danny would ever help him, despite struggling with this anger. 

Danny did not owe him anything, Danny was not beholden to anyone in this dimension, but he was asking for help.

Danny hesitantly stepped around the counter. 

Mentally he countered each argument for why this was stupid. 

He took a step forward. There was no trap. Danny chose to believe him when he said he didn’t want to use whatever device that had been on him. 

Danny took another step forward, and step after step until he was right in front of him. Danny didn’t look up to see whatever expression may be on his face, it was easier like this standing face to chest. And it was a nice chest, wearing a red henley worn soft and fuzzy through countless washes. It was easy to take the last step into his space and lean his forehead forward to rest against him. 

It was harder to let go of the tight ball he’d pulled his emotions into. 

“Can I?” Helmet asked, arms hovering slightly away from him. 

“Yeah,” Danny replied hoarsely, and then arms settled around him hesitantly, warm, human - not tight or trapping him, it was considerate but not what Danny needed. A wounded sound left his chest and he pressed closer. He clenched his eyes shut but still tears ran wet tracks down his cheeks as he finally gave in - let go. 

His core was a cacophony of grief warring with happiness. Melancholy and joy twisting and churning neither one really winning. Danny was so tired and worn he couldn’t focus on what he should feel. All this and maybe he couldn’t even help him? 

If he couldn’t get the happiness going what use was he?

But then the arms tightened around him and it was a proper hug. He was being held. There was a hand in his hair tugging him into the crook of Helmet’s neck, as he bent slightly over to surround him. Danny’s forehead against the crook of his neck, skin again skin. A warm body. A fast heartbeat in his ears. 

He was not alone. 

His core thrummed with the knowledge. 

Danny lost time. 

It was terrifying. It could have five minutes or an hour that they stood there for all Danny knew. He had been so lost in the warmth of human contact and the content song of his core. 

A shiver of fear went up his spine and he tensed.

Last time he had fallen asleep. That, he could at least understand. He’d been extremely exhausted after everything that happened. But this was different. Danny didn’t even know if he would have noticed Helmet moving him - he hadn’t; they still stood in the exact same spot. 

He made to draw away and for one heart-stopping fraction of a second, Danny thought Helmet wouldn’t let him go. But that was uncharitable, he had to give Helmet time to even realize what he was doing. Just cause Danny’s brain was running a mile a minute, and a second seemed like an eternity, didn’t mean it was to anyone else - and Helmet did let him slide out of his arms. Danny looked up, eyes just a bit wide. He was trying to stay calm, he was. He didn’t know how to interpret Helmet’s expression. His eyes met Danny’s, his brows were doing something, his mouth was a line downturned at the corners. His arms were raised, drawn back just slightly after Danny slipped away.

Danny took another step back.

Helmet didn’t move. Danny realized suddenly what the expression was; he looked sad.

Danny’s core pulsed painfully, and his breath stuttered. He wanted to go back to that embrace, he wanted to stay and forget everything else. 

It was all he could do not to run, because those feelings were terrifying in and of themselves. He turned and he carefully walked to the far wall. He stopped there, clenched his trembling hands. His eyes trailed an uneven line on the white wallpaper. 

This wasn’t just about him.

“The day after tomorrow,” he said, loud enough he was sure Helmet could hear him. Then he couldn’t hold back anymore and he threw himself through the wall. His heart raced in his chest all the way back to his lair. 

It went against every cautious bone in his body to reveal he’d be somewhere at a specific time, even such a vague promise as the day after tomorrow. It was as much as he could get himself to do.

It wasn’t just about him. 

-

Alright and that's probably it for the rapid updates, this part mostly needed edits to fit better with what actually ended up happening in the earlier parts and I hadn't written the ending, I wasn't sure I'd get the time today, but I did so, tadaa!

Things are going better! It's not all misery anymore.

Danny wasn't quite this terrified early in the story, but then he felt relatively safe in his ability to get out of situations. Having his powers knocked out, really brought up a boatload of trauma. It's just also really making him out of sorts to be that at odds with his core.

I hope it makes sense.

[aerinaga]

my daddy p.

paige bueckers x reader

warnings: smut (eating out, slight bdsm)

note: in honor of the cake that says daddy p 😙 happy fathers day special

you and paige were on the way to her fathers house to celebrate fathers day.

you were going to celebrate fathers day with her side of the family, since your family was out of the country at the moment. paige’s family was always so outgoing, they never made you feel like you’re out of place.

you and paige were currently in the car, she looked beautiful as per usual. i mean, there wasn’t any day where she looked ugly. her right hand was on your inner thigh, rubbing it in small circles. gosh, that made you wet. you felt butterflies in your stomach.

you arrived at her house, greeting her dad.

“happy fathers day, bob!” you said. you gave him a fine bottle of white wine.

while they were preparing dinner, you and paige headed up to her old room. as soon as paige closed the door, she kissed you like it was the end of the world.

her hands went down to your waist, squeezing it. you let out a small moan, you could feel her smile against your lips. the both of you let go, breaths were heavy and echoing around the room.

“you look so beautiful, i can’t wait to have you later.”

“alright, daddy p.”

“daddy p?”

“yeah, MY daddy p.” you gave her a flirtatious smile, drawing small circles on her chest.

she smirked at you, she knew what was going down later.

the moment the both of you entered your apartment (which was thankfully soundproofed), she grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you up the island table.

she didn’t waste anytime, she was aggressively kissing you down your neck. she was nibbling on every part of your skin, leaving little bite marks. you were hers. your soft moans were getting louder by the second, leading her to kiss you down in between your breasts, squeezing them from time to time just to hear you get louder.

she pulled down the zipper of your sundress, slipping you out of it and throwing your dress on the sofa, discarding your bra and underwear somewhere. she kissed up your lips, not minding the fact that you were a mess already. she just wanted you.

“lay on your stomach for me.”

you obliged, landing your stomach on the cold surface. you felt her rubbing her hand on your ass cheek. you didn’t exactly know what to expect. she landed a stingy slap on your ass. you moaned loudly, who knew you liked this?

“you’re such a slut for me baby, i want you to count for me okay?”

“yes, p.”

“thats not my name baby. what were you calling me earlier again? use that.”

“yes, daddy.”

“good girl.”

slap. “one”

slap. “two”

slap. “three”

slap. “four”

slap. “five” you were whimpering slightly, tears were forming up in your eyes.

“just a little more baby.”

slap. “six”

slap. “seven”

you were anticipating another slap, but instead, you were turned over by paige. she was smirking at you, engulfing you in another kiss.

“such a good girl for me, baby. because you’re such a good girl, i’ll give you a reward.”

she spread your legs wide open, kissing up your legs til she reaches your inner thighs. her kisses were so soft and delicate, eliciting a moan out of you.

her face was close to your pussy, you could feel her breathing. she placed a soft kiss on it, making you grab a handful of her hair. she grunted from the sudden pull on her hair, but she loved it.

she wasted no time licking up a stripe on your clit, circling her tongue on your pussy. she was always able to make you cum just by eating you out, it was insane. she bit your clit softly, making you jolt your legs in between her head.

she used her strength to pry it open wide, her muscles were being put to use.

there was always this spot on your pussy, it made your legs shake, it gets you close to cumming, makes you close your legs from the feeling of soreness, and especially makes your toes curl.

she was hitting that spot. oh gosh, it felt so fucking good. your legs were wrapping around her head, yet she wasn’t stopping at all. she doesn’t plan to.

“oh my god— p, daddy— i’m cumm- oh fuck, i’m gonna cum, daddy.”

the pressure of her tongue was going faster, making your legs shake violently. you exhaled loudly, feeling your release. she looked back up at you.

her nose was glistening with your cum on it. her lips were berry pink, eyes looking like they were in heaven.

you were pussy naked in front of her, legs were spread opened, shaking, your pussy was pink and puffed up.

paige loves this sight.

you swiftly sat up, grabbing her face and smashing your lips on hers. you wrapped your arms around her neck, wanting to be closer to her. you felt her wrap her arms around your legs, carrying you to the bedroom.

“you look like a mess, baby. but we’re not done yet.”

oh.

she held your arms up. using her other hand, she pried your legs open, wasting no time to rub your clit in slow motion. she pushed two fingers in, wasting no time to fuck you.

you were moaning louder by the minute. while she finger fucked you out, she kissed you down your breasts, nibbling on your nipple. she gave you love bites all over your chest, as if it was a blank canvas.

“you can handle three, right baby?”

“yes, daddy.”

she slid another finger in, but this time, she was pushing her fingers in and out of you as if there was no tomorrow.

you were screaming from pleasure at that point, the knot building up inside of you.

“who owns you hm?”

“you.”

“who?”

“you, daddy. you own me. i’m— oh fuck fuck fuck. feels so good, daddy.” you whimper under her.

you were squirming under her, you weren’t sure if you could last longer before you were about to cum again.

regardless, paiges fingers were moving faster by the second. you were moaning under her. your back was arching, your head was thrown back, eyes were meeting heaven.

paige looked at you like you were an angel.

the little scream you let out knew you were going to cum.

you felt the sheets being wet, you see paige looking down at your pussy. you squirted.

paige never looked so proud, her smug smirk displayed on her face. you never felt so embarrassed, you immediately covered your face with your hands.

“it’s alright baby, i’ll clean you up. after all, i am your daddy. right?”

“yes, you’re my daddy p.”

she chuckles and gives you a kiss before heading in to the bathroom to draw you a bath.

[loveharlow]

SEVEN [POGUELANDIA] - MOON RIVER

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[2.4k] 2 weeks stuck on a deserted island and while the hope for rescue dwindles by the day, you continue to make the most of your situation while a new problem boils right under your nose...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, heavy touching/mild smut, allusions to sex, arguing, mentions of sexuality

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ idk where i got the motivation for this chapter but i love it

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

“NO, KEEP YOUR LEFT FOOT STRAIGHT, GIRL.” Cleo reprimanded once more, you sighing and dropping your hands in response. “Don’t be lazy now. Push through it.” The sun had reached its peak, casting a steaming hot glow across the island, prompting a thin layer of sweat to reveal itself on your skin.

You stood with Cleo close to the shore, the girl sparring with you as promised a week ago. Kiara and JJ were surfing while John B and Sarah cuddled in the sand under the shade of the palm trees as Pope sat closeby, mindlessly watching you and Cleo. But mostly Cleo.

“Well, it was easier when only one of my legs hurt.” You exhausted, one hand on your hip as you breathed heavily. “But we’ve been at this for, what feels like, an hour straight and now they both hurt.”

“Do you think boxers give up when they get punched in the face?” Cleo sassed, squinting her eyes from the sunlight, Pope laughing from the sidelines.

“...What?”

“I’m not repeatin’ myself.” The girl shook her head, walking towards you and taking hold of your wrists. “Put your hands back up, spread your feet apart, and quit whinin’.” She ordered before walking back to her spot a few feet across from you. “You should be grateful to even have a leg, missy. So, wipe ya tears and c’mon.”

You rolled your eyes before beginning your “session” with the island girl — ducking hits, soft slaps, and ignoring the soreness in your leg with every twist and step. This went on for about ten minutes before, for the first time in a full week of sparring, you swept Cleo off her feet. Literally.

You watched with your jaw on the floor as the girl fell on her ass in the sand, closing her eyes briefly as a harsh puff of air left her lips while Pope ‘oooh’d from his place in the sand.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” You apologized. Rushing to lend the girl a hand, she took it, you using as much strength as you could to help her up.

“What’re you apologizin’ for?” She asked, dusting herself off before clapping you on the back while catching her breath. “I’ve been tryna get you to do that for seven days and six nights.” Cleo shot, a sly smile on her face.

You scoffed, lightly pushing the girl's shoulder back. “Screw you.”

“You should be thankin’ me.” Cleo joked, pointing a finger as she walked away and towards Pope. “You Americans are so ungrateful.”

“JJ!” Kiara’s voice sounded out before any of you could respond — causing the five of you to turn your attention to the girl as she chased after a seemingly furious JJ, makeshift surfboards tucked under their arms. “Are you serious, bro? I'm talking to you!” She asked, face twisting in annoyance. Water was dripping from both of their frames, leaving rushed wet footprints in the sand.

Your friends all watched with confused faces as you made a move to go towards the pair, putting a hand on JJ’s shoulder. “Hey, what’s the matter-”

“Move.” Was all the blonde boy offered in response, jerking his shoulder away from your touch and walking past you without so much as a glance. 

“JJ.” You tried to call after him, but he didn’t even turn around before disappearing into the trees as you turned back around, coming face to face with Kiara. “What the hell happened?” You asked in disbelief.

Kiara seemed to lack a proper response, stuttering for words and trying to move wet strands of hair out of her face before finally making eye contact with you. “I don’t know, he just got mad-”

“He didn’t just get mad.” You stopped her from lying. “What happened?”

Kiara sighed, running a hand through her hair. “...I told him.”

You squinted your eyes in response. “Told him what?”

“...I told him the truth. About why I kissed him in Charleston… about how I feel about you.” She sighed, briefly glancing down at her feet as anger boiled in the pit of your stomach. “I was just trying to clear things up, get rid of the tension. Guess he didn’t take it too well-”

“You had no right.” You seethed, staring the girl down as your remaining four friends crowded around the two of you.

“What’s goin’ on?” Cleo asked.

“What’s wrong with JJ?” Pope followed, both of their questions going ignored.

“No right?” Kiara spat, an expression of offense on her features. “I had every right. They’re my feelings-”

“And it’s my relationship.” You bit back. “If someone was going to tell JJ, my boyfriend, about anything regarding me and you, it should’ve been me. Not you.”

“Okay, seriously,” Sarah started, putting her hands out in front of her. “What is happening?”

“Look, I get it’s yours and JJ’s relationship but didn’t you think to tell him earlier? You don’t think the guilt of lying to my friend was getting to me at all?”

“I was going to tell him!” You blurted. “You don’t think the guilt of lying to my boyfriend was getting to me? I was going to tell him when I thought the time was right. But of course, Kiara only ever thinks about Kiara-”

“Okay!” John B stopped the bickering, voice overpowering all others. “Someone needs to explain what the hell is happening right now. Why did JJ storm off? And what are you two arguing about?”

Kiara shrugged, sassily crossing her arms and eyeing you up and down. “Should I tell them? Or do I have 'no right'?” She bickered.

You couldn’t do anything but scoff, turning away from the girl. “By all means, take the floor. Tell them.” You dismissed, waving a hand in her direction. “It’s your secret to tell. Guess I’m just collateral." You shrugged. "But just so you know, this is one of the many reasons it will never be you.” You sneered before walking off, attempting to go in the direction you’d last seen JJ.

AFTER WHAT FELT LIKE AN HOUR OF WEAVING THROUGH COUNTLESS TREES AND BUSHES, you spotted a very familiar head of golden blonde hair, wading in a shallow pool of water under a nearby waterfall. His back was turned as he mindlessly waved his hands through the water. You spotted his clothes on a nearby rock, taking the opportunity to strip yourself down and put your clothes on top of his — climbing silently into the water.

You moved slowly so as to not make much noise, creeping up behind the boy until you were close enough to wrap your arms around his torso — making him jump and look side to side before realizing it was you. Your heart dropped a bit when he sighed at your presence, putting his hand on top of both of yours that were clasped in front of his stomach.

“What are you doing here?” He said, voice despondent. 

“Don’t act like you didn’t know I would come looking for you.” You tried to lighten the mood, only to be met with another sigh. “...Why did you walk off?”

“What do you mean why did I walk off?” He said, indignation clear in his tone.

“I mean, I know but…you didn’t even talk to me. You didn’t let me explain.” You answered, voice dropping.

“Explain?” JJ said, scoffing. ��Explain what? How you didn’t tell me how Kie told you she was in love with you? Weeks ago? C’mon…”

“I’m sorry,” You apologized. “Okay? I am.” You reassured. “I was trying to find the right time or…something. But every time I got close to telling you, the thought of your face dropping made me…not.”

“...When exactly would’ve been the right time to tell me?” He questioned, moving your hands off of his torso and turning to face you. He didn’t look happy. “We’ve been stranded here for two weeks. When were you gonna tell me? How did Kie make it to me before you did?”

“I didn’t think she was gonna tell you.” You tried to defend. 

“She shouldn’t have had the opportunity to.” JJ reprimanded, lowering his head to be more eye-level with you. “I should be the first person you tell things to. Especially when those things have to do with both me and you. And when I say first person, that doesn’t mean wait almost three fucking weeks to tell me-”

“Okay-”

“No. No, not okay.” He continued his ranting, cheeks turning red. “None of this is okay.” He emphasized with his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I was confused.” You snapped, brows furrowing for a brief second. JJ was raining down on you. Hard. You felt overwhelmed.

“...Confused?” JJ got out. “About what exactly? About who you wanna be with?” He asked incredulously.

“No!” You immediately shut down his questioning. “No. I want to be with you. I am in love with you, whatever Kiara feels for me… it doesn’t matter to me.”

“Then answer my question.” Your boyfriend damn near demanded. “What are you confused about?”

You just sighed, throwing your hands out to the side. “Everything?” You offered an answer. “I know how I feel about you, okay? Nothing has ever been more clear to me than that. But Kie has been my best friend longer than I can remember and I wanted to give her space and time before telling you. You know you have a tendency to be explosive, J. I wanted to give her time before you possibly went off on her for something she can’t control. I may not be in love with her, but I will always have love for her in the sister-ly way I always have.” You tried to clarify. “I’m trying to navigate our relationship and Kiara’s feelings in a way that doesn’t tear apart two of the most important connections in my life. Tell me you at least understand that.”

“I understand that.” He nodded, biting his bottom lip. “...But did Kiara think about you before she kissed me? Did she think about me before telling you how she felt?” He asked, but it was clear he wasn’t really seeking an answer. “No. So why did you consider her feelings before mine?”

“That’s not even fair.” You countered. “You never even told me about the kiss. I saw it for myself and confronted you. So, don’t even use that against me because it’s just gonna come full-circle right back around to you.”

“And why didn’t I tell you about the kiss?” He asked, straightening his posture and towering over you. “Tell me.” You remained silent, staring the boy in his eyes. “Fine. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want to hurt us. Me not telling you had nothing to do with Kiara and her feelings-”

“That doesn’t make it better-”

“I didn’t say it did.” He cut you off. “But you wanted me to understand, right? So, now I want you to understand.” He said simply. “I didn’t tell you to spare your feelings but I should have. I was wrong. You didn’t tell me to spare Kiara’s feelings. You were wrong.” He said. “Maybe I would’ve taken it better if I had heard it from you when it happened. But hearing it from Kiara weeks later? It feels like you had something to hide. Like you were trying to give yourself time.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Then tell me I’m wrong.” JJ shrugged, shoulders tense. “Tell me you didn’t tell me because you were trying to consider Kiara and not because you have feelings for her too.” He requested, edging closer to you. “Tell me you’re in love with me. Just me.” You never expected this from JJ — someone so independent and closed off with any and almost all emotions. This was raw. This was real. This was him.

“...Kie was one of my best friends.” You started, staring into his eyes and never wavering. “So, yes I was trying to protect her. And yes, I made a mistake in considering her over you.” You admitted, sliding your hands over JJ’s shoulders and clasping them behind his neck. “But I don’t have any other feelings for her. I am in love with you. Just you. And only you. So, I’m sorry.”

JJ looked between your eyes for a few moments, not returning your touch — hands stuck at his sides under the water, the only sound being the rush of the waterfall behind you both. 

“...You swear?” He asked, blue eyes slowly returning to their soft state.

You nodded, pulling yourself in closer and using buoyancy of the water to wrap your legs around his waist as his hands found the back of your thighs. “I promise.”

The blonde fought back a smile, hiking you up higher onto his frame before locking his lips with yours — one of your hands going up to thread into his soaking strands, tugging on them lightly. Your lips moved back and forth in a soft harmony until it gained tension, turning into a feverish exchange. His hands traveled upwards, squeezing the flesh of your ass between his fingers, pressing you even further against him.

It was only then did you realize the both of you were naked — fully naked. His length pressing harshly at your entrance. It was at this moment that you realized you were completely comfortable.

Ever since Rafe, every sexual movement beyond kissing sent you into a spiral. You remember the very first time you tried to do anything after that — it was mortifying.

But in this moment, with JJ. You felt completely safe. You felt ready.

JJ moved his kisses down to the length of your neck, walking you backwards in the crystal blue water until your back hit a stone wall, the coolness of the rock and the warmth of his fingers causing you to let out a small moan.

Without much thought, you found one of your hands reaching down in between the two of you to grab his dick, lightly stroking it in the water. The male above you let out a soft moan, the warmth of his breath fanning out across your neck.

You were two seconds away from putting it in yourself when one of his hands gripped the wrist of yours that was tugging on his cock. 

“...I don’t wanna do this here.” He breathed out, pulling from your neck with swollen lips and lust-blow eyes. “I wanna make all of our best memories back home. Wherever that may be.”

You didn’t protest or push any further, simply accepting his wishes and releasing your grip, leaving a peck on his lips as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, looking into your eyes. “I’m sorry for not letting you talk earlier.” He whispered.

You offered a small, light smile. “It’s okay. I know you.” You reassured, knowing his small dramatic exit was nothing compared to his usual emotional outburst. Even if he didn’t realize it, JJ was improving in small but amazing ways. Being on this island seemed good for him. 

And now you weren’t sure you wanted to leave.

next chapter >

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow.

[fee224]

Mr snowman

Rafe cameron x overlooked!reader

Rafe arrived at half six, sharp. You had been coerced into inviting rafe Cameron for dinner with all your sisters, and parents on Friday. You assured him he didn’t have to come, if there was a party on or he didn’t want to, but he reassured you he would be there, which make your heart flutter all week despite hating family dinners.

You were in a dress, same as all the girls in your family as he strolled into the kitchen following your mother, with flowers for your mother, and you!

You felt silly clambering off the kitchen island stool and accepting his flowers and kiss on the forehead. He wasn’t your boyfriend, but you knew you weren’t his friend, you just had to hang in there with hope.

His eyes once taking in your outfit, chuckled at the sight of your fancy dress and Ugg mini slippers.

Your sisters came traipsing in shortly with each other or their children, boyfriends and husbands. Your mother gushing over each of them, and introducing rafe to each one, even attempting to set him up with one of your sisters.

The boys were the first sat at the table, including rafe who had no trouble shooting the breeze. You cringed at yourself for actually being jealous.

Then your sisters while you wordlessly helped your mother set the table and bring the plates to the table until you were sat beside rafe, he turned around to give you a comforting smile before thanking your mother.

“Of course rafe! You’re welcome any time, you hear me!” Your parents continued as you forked peas.

Conversation was effortless for him, and you didn’t feel so special, he was naturally good at this stuff. He kept dragging you into the conversation just for you to stare at him and mutter a small “Yeah”.

You would think this was his family, the way he was desperately including you but the dirty looks coming your way from your brother in laws made you want to sink into the ground.

After everyone was finished, conversation continued. You sat, your vision shifting to outside the window, to your plate to your mother whenever she would speak. Rafes hand slipped onto your thigh and rubbed gently as some type of soother.

Then you helped your mother to wash and dry dishes, you told rafe it’s fine to go into the living room with everyone, you’ll be in after your done and he just stared at you trying to figure out the hidden meaning, there wasn’t one, you were simply uncomfortable.

“You complain y/n, but you never make the effort!” Your mother turned from the cabinet to give you a stern look as you frowned weakly into the bubbles in the sink. “Sorry, I don’t know how” you croaked, you truly had no excuse but you didn’t exactly expect sympathy.

The fire was roaring in the living room as you sat on the rug, next to rafes feet, where he sat on the end of the couch. Your niece was in your lap as you stroked through her hair, putting her to sleep slowly, she missed her nap today.

You weren’t paying attention to the conversation until you heard your name, your head springing up from across the room.

“Y/n, you remember mr snowman?” Shilah sipped her white wine, on the arm of her long term boyfriend. Rafe nudged you with his foot, presuming it was a cute memory from when you were children. You returned the small smile back up at him.

“Yeah, s’all kinda blurry” your head bowed to focus harder on your nieces hair.

“Rafe! You have to hear this” Mandy snorted and nudged Campbell who looked entirely uncomfortable.

“Okay okay! Y/n is seven and hasn’t uttered a word, little on the slow side weren’t ya?” You couldn’t tell who was speaking, trying to drown it all out. Why were they telling him this. He’s going to leave.

“She used to run off into the woods behind our house whenever she’d cry, she’d come back with bruises all over her body and wouldn’t fucking show anyone because this mr snowman had healing touch” it was all true unfortunately. You had convinced yourself a snowman was real, was your friend, was magical, all so you didn’t have to show your parents your bruises, tell them your feelings.

“Everyone thought she was like messed up…. Like in the head. She had to go to special doctors and speech therapists” another voice added and you could feel the flame on your neck, cheeks, ears, feet, between your breasts and under your armpits.

You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t see him and know he’s seeing the real you back.

“What a waste of money” a deep voice added “I mean don’t worry babe, we are loaded” and then a sound of a giggly kiss as you felt your dinner start to unravel.

As you stood up dizzly, all you noticed was rafes clenched fists as you excused your self.

“I need tuh-“ you breathed out heavily, stumbling out of the door.

Footsteps were following you as your knees dropped underneath you, elbows leaning on the toilet seat. A thick hand gathered all your hair and held a hand to your forehead, the cold pressure relieving your confusion.

“You’re good doll, my little darlings okay, hm.” You heaved at his words, tears streaming down your numb cold cheeks as you fell onto his lap, leaning against his chest on the tile floor as he stroked you kindly.

You focussed on the material of his jumper, the feeling of your legs touching, the sound of his voice, the words he was repeating as bible.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen, I just cause trouble” you mumbled, distressed, still only half conscious as he just responded in forehead kisses, and cheek kisses, temple kisses and tip of your nose kisses. You floated away. Meeting a slow void filled with hurt and love. You clung to rafe as he protected you from the voices inside your own head, and the ones outside, sleeping down the hall, or down the street.

“Doesn’t sound like you like talking hmm? You can talk to me y/n” his fingers were tracing your back. Leaving you dizzier and healing you in the same breath.

‘Please let me keep this one’ you silently prayed.

- fee xxx

[zorosangell]

⛥*ﾟ・。* masterlist (under construction)

note: masterlist updates will be sporadic and not scheduled at all. if you want the link to a specific fic just ask. and they are in release order

— protector: full wattpad ver.

⤷ chapter one, ⤷ chapter two, ⤷ chapter three, ⤷ chapter four, ⤷ chapter five, ⤷ chapter six, ⤷ chapter seven, ⤷ chapter eight, ⤷ chapter nine, ⤷ chapter ten, ⤷ chapter eleven, ⤷ chapter twelve, ⤷ chapter thirteen, ⤷ chapter fourteen, ⤷ chapter fifteen, ⤷ chapter sixteen, ⤷ chapter seventeen, ⤷ chapter eighteen, ⤷ chapter nineteen, ⤷ chapter twenty, ⤷ chapter twenty-one, ⤷ chapter twenty-two, ⤷ chapter twenty-three, ⤷ chapter twenty-four, ⤷ chapter twenty-five, ⤷ chapter twenty-six, more pending...

— lucky punch

⤷ chapter one, ⤷ chapter two, more pending...

— piña colada

⤷ x -- some women just can't take a hint... good thing zoro's only got eyes for one girl

— onigiri

⤷ x -- zoro's on a training binge and refuses to bathe... this, unless its with you

— happy birthday

⤷ x -- it's a known fact that zoro can't stand his birthday... but when you finally discover the date, you can't help putting together something special

— oiran

⤷ x -- while luffy and the others are off saving sanji, zoro is assigned the role of a ronin, and told to keep a low profile as he roams the land of wano... but he riks revealing himself and the entire crew when he discovers you're a nearby oiran, and in need of his rescue

— rice crackers

⤷ x -- after nami discovers a little girl stowing away on the sunny, the crew comes together to interrogate her... but she won't stop claiming to be your daughter

— stein

⤷ x -- while you're laughing at the stories told to you by some rando at the bar, zoro can't help but be affected by the green-eyed monster. nami and robin try to quell his worries... but things take a turn for the worst when the man puts his hands on you

— kunoichi

⤷ x -- the story of how you met the strawhat crew (and your swordsman)

— vice admiral

⤷ x -- after receiving some terrible news by news coo, you're left completely devastated. the crew does their best to console you, to no avail... and zoro realizes that, for once, his actions won't speak louder than his words... and makes a promise he's willing to die to keep

— jug

⤷ x -- after going out to search for luffy, you and zoro stumble upon a bottle of pink sake. zoro drinks it without question, but lives to regret it, as you have to deal with the consequences... physically

— theory

⤷ x -- the effects of a devil fruit age zoro into a forty year-old version of himself. and after his initial annoyance passes, he grows thankful... as you can't seem to keep your hands off him.

— fantasy

⤷ x -- part two of theory

— pit

⤷ x -- time and time again zoro has forgotten about your outings, leaving you dressed up and alone on several occasions. but after nami witnesses it in person, she finally puts her foot down... and you finally confront your swordsman.

— knight

⤷ x -- as a princess, you constantly have a bounty on your head, which means you are almost always under attack whenever the crew docks on an island. so, after zoro saves you from being kidnapped again, you both have a heart to heart... which ends in a little confession.

— inn

⤷ x -- you'd known zoro nearly all your life—having grown up with the swordsman in his home village—and considered him the most important person in your life... so, after luffy saves you both from the execution yard and invites you to join his crew, you can't help but feel like your lack of strength will end up becoming a hindrance to zoro's dream

— bento

⤷ x -- part two of inn -- you and zoro have a heartfelt reunion on the sabaody archipelago... with the help of a kindly fisherman.

— mistletoe

⤷ x -- nami has to school zoro in the art of gift-giving in order to save your first christmas together. luckily, he manages to wise up... and gives you a gift you won't ever forget.

— ham melon

⤷ x -- after you contract a rare, deadly disease, zoro has to take care of you... the best he can.

— nurse

⤷ x -- a mysterious man crash lands on your gloomy island, and you patch him up... unaware of his odd relationship with your father.

— nightgown

⤷ x -- after two wonderful years with the swordsman, you're reluctant to let him go, especially without telling him how you feel. luckily, he feels the exact same way... and more than accepts your scanty going away present.

— brand

⤷ x -- you return to the ship with a horrible injury... and zoro goes fucking berserk.

— bmf

⤷ x -- zoro doesn't take kindly to you being disrespected... at all.

— endgame

⤷ x -- prequel to inn -- when chopper asks about your past, zoro reminisces on your history together... and is reminded of exactly what you are to him.

— boxers

⤷ x -- part two of pit -- zoro saves your life (ish) and finally finds the courage to win you back

[ohtobeleah]

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Series Masterlist

Summary: When Jake is tasked with taking his kids this festive season, he never though he’d get a call in the middle of the night that would change his life. Marriage is tougher than it seemed on paper—but whats harder than accepting your marriage is crumbling around you is watching you ex wife slowly fade away.

Warnings: Character Death. Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ANGST. Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil.

Author Note: Masterlist subject to change as series is still a work in progress. Descriptions, word counts and titles may vary.

-> Chapter One: [The Diagnosis] The last thing you ever expected was to be diagnosed with breast cancer. To make matters worse? You’d been separated from the love of your life for just shy of a year. How do you tell the love of your life you might be dying? It’s simple really— You don’t. (Out Now) 2.1

-> Chapter Two: [Chemo & Charisma] Jake arrives in Rhode Island to accompany his three kids back to Houston Texas the next morning. He expects it to be slightly awkward, but something he doesn’t expect is to be cryptically seduced by you—his ex wife. (Out Now) 4.6

-> Chapter Three: [V For Vendetta] When your stomach can’t handle the Chemo medication, you empty the content of your stomach. While doing so, you and Jake come to a crossroads about your relationship going forward. (Out Now) 4.5

-> Chapter Four: [Parental Guidance] Jakes Mother simply cannot understand what he saw in you, your mother simply cannot comprehend why you left Jake. (Out Now) 4.1

-> Chapter Five: [Why Do They Call It Love?] Jake spends time with his side of the family and your kiddos in Texas. The lies quickly come to an end though when an overworked and overwhelmed nursing student makes the wrong call to your not so emergent contact. (Out Now) 5k

-> Chapter Six: [Chaos & Conflict] As panic consumes Jake after finding out about your current medical condition, Jake calls your mother to fill in the gaps. Nurse Lydia escapes being taken to her supervisor and Jake lets lose on his mother who tries to stop him leaving. (Out Now) 4.4k

-> Chapter Seven [Faucet Failure] Jake makes his way back to you after finding out the truth. While under sedation to give your brain some rest, you remember the good times and the bad with your husband. (Out Now)4.6

-> Chapter Eight [Oh, Honeybee] Jake can’t accept why you’d keep such a life threatening situation a secret and you can’t accept why he suddenly seems to care. (Out Now) 4k

-> Chapter Nine [The Pomegranate Theory] Jakes still trying to wrap his head around what’s happening with your health. Doctor Ignatii oversteps? And you settle in while Jake helps you write some of your newest book. (Out Now) 4.3

-> Chapter Ten [The Potato Head Society & The Other Guy, Jarred?] Jake helps you shave your head in hopes of keeping your power and control. Facing your own mortality makes you question your faith in a higher authority and Jensen and Jake met for the first, and what you hope, will be the last time. (Out Now) 4.0k

-> Chapter Eleven [The Man] When Jensen and Jake butt heads over who’s what to you, it blows way out of proportion to an extent so high, that Jake lashes out. (Out Now) 5.6

-> Chapter Twelve [Bring Me The Horizon] After Jensen and Jake finish their face-off, you tell Jake how it is. He practices the art of holding himself accountable for his actions, and you get a call that would send you into a downward spiral. Putting you in jeopardy right before your surgery. 5.1k

-> Chapter Thirteen [Panic Room] Jakes darkest fears come to fruition when surgery doesn’t go as planned and the months to come bring a new reality he never saw coming. 5.5k

-> Epilogue: Part One [Boulevard of Broken Dream] You received a call you and Bradley Bradshaw have been waiting on for what felt like a decade. Jakes mother causes a scene as worry consumes you. Does Jake want the very thing that put him in the hospital in the first place? 6.2k

-> Epilogue: Part Two

[grandline-fics]

Immune To Your Charms

DESCRIPTION: Soulmates are incapable of harming the other in any way. Normally that would be a good thing but not when you're meant to be enemies.

WARNINGS: It's Doflamingo so be warned if he's not someone you like to read about. Contains swearing, slightly suggestive material but nothing explicit. Soulmate! AU, Enemies to Lovers

CHARACTERS: Doflamingo

WORDS: 2,630

A/N: Part of the Good For Your Soul Series. The next part is here and have we maybe got things being a little more amicable? Hope you all enjoy this chapter. The next one should be when things really kick off but we've got the beginnings of possessive Doffy. Enjoy

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven(here) | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen(coming soon)

——————

“So we have the guest rooms ready and waiting for the young master’s guests arriving today and-” The young servant stopped her report to her superior with a startled yelp when one of the windows slammed open above. Together the two servants froze at the sight of Doflamingo holding you by the throat, your body relaxed as ever, at least until you glanced down at the steep drop.

“Don’t drop me!” You snapped sharply at Doflamingo, reaching out to slap his arm. It was still so jarring for the residents and servants of the palace to hear you talk to the King the way you did. In this moment you held no panic or fear in your voice, instead you sounded annoyed. “I’ll hit the rose bush, it’ll break my fall.” The servants paled, that’s what you were concerned about? Still in a way this made sense for you and King Doflamingo. They’d lost count how many times a day certain attacks or killing attempts he made against you.

Through it all you met each instance calmly. In a way these occurrences now seemed to be a strange sort of game for you and Lord Doflamingo. Something to pass the time and meet some sort of morbid curiosity. Even though everyone knew by now that the power of soulmates couldn’t be bested with stubborn determination, you both still tried. 

Doflamingo tilted his head and glanced out the window to see the large rose bush in bloom and back to your unimpressed expression. Of course, it would be pointless to reduce the possible damage to you. He grinned and pulled you in to reel back, putting as much force as he could he threw you. He watched as your body hurtled through the air and collided awkwardly against the fountain with a loud splash. Leaning against the window frame, Doflamingo chuckled as you slowly stood and began to climb out of the fountain completely drenched but unharmed as he and you both expected would be the case. With a huff you sat on the edge of the fountain and began to wring out as much water out of your clothes as you could to limit the amount of water you were going to unintentionally track into the palace. 

Doflamingo watched as you finally began to walk inside and out of view. He closed the window firmly and pulled out his handheld den-den mushi when it rang. He'd been expecting the call, his guests had already landed on the island and were nearing the Palace. “All okay?”

“Yes Joker. All’s going smoothly. They’re just ahead with Bellamy and the others and should be at the Palace soon.” His officer reported. “They know nothing about this island, didn’t question why they were coming to a palace. Doflamingo sir, they don’t even know you’re the one in charge here. They seem to think Joker is just someone very rich.”

“Is that right?” Doflamingo grinned. This just got better and better. He had thought that they would believe that ‘Joker’ worked for him and would have begun to panic once they learned they’d set foot on Dressrosa. To be this ignorant and naive about the real danger they were in was more than he hoped for. “Well let’s see how long we can keep that secret between us. Shall we?”

———-

The pirates strutted through Dressrosa’s palace entrance hall with eye bright with greed and appreciation. This was the dream, to be so rich that you could own a palace and have countless servants at your beck and call, every wish and whim met immediately. Now they were even more sure that Joker wouldn’t cry over a missed share of a measly profit his weapons would get once they sold them on. The head servant bowed to them and spoke calmly, repeating word for word Doflamingo had told them too. “Joker has been kind enough to assign rooms for you all to stay in while you’re here. There’ll be a celebratory dinner to welcome you all later this evening but for now you’re all welcome to make yourselves comfortable. If you need anything, there’ll be someone nearby to assist.”

At the permission to make themselves comfortable, the pirates grinned wide and chuckled, many immediately breaking apart into smaller groups to start exploring. Some went with the goal of finding the kitchen to start stuffing their faces, celebratory meal or not. Others started wandering to find anything expensive looking that would be easily snatched and hidden, the more ambitious hoped to come across the palace’s vault and begin to make a plan on how best to rob from it when night had fallen. One group in particular however had just been wandering about to see what took their interest first, only to pause when one of the servants tensed as they neared one of the doors. “Oh, sirs. Not this room!”

“Ohhh? Why? Is there something precious in there?” One grinned, his interest immediately taken. Why have this room be off limits? They were just asking for them to investigate by saying not to go in. “A quick peek.”

“N-no…I must insist!“ The servant stammered out. While Doflamingo hadn’t exactly said this room was off limits to the pirates, she believed it would be wrong of her to allow them inside. 

“Joker said we were his guests.” The other pirate insisted, taking a firm hold of the servant’s arm knowing she would be too weak to use force. With a laugh he pulled the girl out of the way with no effort and added. “He said we were to make ourselves comfortable. I think we’ll be comfortable in here.” 

The pirates threw open the doors with a loud bang and strode into the large and luxuriously furnished living quarters, low appreciatively whistles breaking from their lips. If their rooms were even half as nice as this, they were tempted to just stay here permanently. From the side room they heard movement and the panicked squeak from the servant who scurried inside in the hopes of convincing them to leave. Now she knew for sure they wouldn’t. Quickly the pirates wasted no time in bursting into the room and pausing to see you in the bathtub. With the oils and additions to the water it’d turned it a dark swirl of colours but even then when you’d heard their approach and only had time to quickly grab a towel and use it to act as extra cover for yourself. Steadily you met their stares and forced yourself to remain calm. 

“Oh what have we here?” One pirate all but sang as he stepped closer to the bathtub, eyes taking in your face and what he could see of your body which sadly for him wasn’t much. “I doubt you’re our gracious host Joker and not a servant…”

“Maybe a different kind of ‘servant’ huh?” The second pirate grinned lecherously and licked his lips. “Is that what you are dearest? Some entertainment Joker’s got planned for later?”

“I’m in the mood for entertainment now though…” The third quipped and your eyes narrowed at that remark. “How’s about you stand up and let us see if you’re worth the coin or not love?”

“Aren’t you a little too eager?” You asked, expression still composed and voice even. Slowly you watched the first pirate crouch down by the tub, his knuckles slowly grazing against your arm and drifting upwards to your jaw before suddenly latching into your hair. You suppressed the wince at the sudden action and clamped your hand around his wrist. “I prefer taking my time and really enjoying things.”

“Darling if you’ve been bought, it’s about what we want. Not you.” The pirate gripping your hair sneered with a sickening smile. “But I like your spirit. Doubt you’d break easy.”

“Doubt the three of you could afford me.” You grit out while the others began to laugh. 

“I dunno. Joker’s been mighty generous up until now.” The third pirate mused. “Bet he’d be nice and let the whole crew have you for a discount.”

“That’s a good idea.” The second pirate barked out with a cruel laugh, excitement gleaming in his eyes. “We should let the Captain know. He’d kill us if we did anything before he meets Joker.”

“Y-yeah good point…” The first admitted, fear flickering into his eyes at the thought of his Captain and you resisted the urge to smirk. If only they knew who they should truly fear in this palace. Reluctantly the pirate released your hair and stood but offered you a disgusting wink before he turned and they left. “See you soon sweetheart.”

“I-I’m so so sorry!” The servant sobbed, falling to her knees while you rose and rushed to pull on your bathrobe. “I tr-tried to stop them!”

“Don’t worry about it.” You reassured her with a sharp tug of your robe’s ties to secure them in place. Your building fury steeling your focus as you stormed out of your room and towards Doflamingo’s office. You were surprised that in your walk there that you didn’t run into any more pirates but it was a good thing because you wouldn’t have held back then. 

You shoved the double doors open and let them hit the walls with an echoing bang. Sharply Doflamingo looked up from his desk while Pica, Diamante, and Trebol turned. The three elite officers tensed at the sight of your dressed in only a bathrobe, your hair and skin still slightly damp and the cold fury burning in your eyes as you stalked towards the desk. The three men stepped to the side while you absently heard the office doors close and lock behind you, most likely the result of Doflamingo’s power. Bracing your hands on the polished surface of the desk you leant in and snarled down at him. “I’m going to kill those fuckers.”

“Well that's a surprise to hear.” Doflamingo chuckled, surprised at your change of heart and unusual decision to come to him severely lacking clothes, not that he truly objected to that. Originally you’d told him that you’d let him have his fun and deal with the pirates. However he was more curious at your unrestrained anger. Out of everything he’d thrown at you, you’d never shown this emotion around him. Just what had they done in such a short amount of time to make you want to kill them. “I’m going to need to know a reason why though. Your involvement will alter the plan.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your plan, Doflamingo.” You snapped. “I’m killing the ones I want to kill and that’s the end of it.”

“So you’ve got specific targets?” He chuckled. “See someone you recognised that made you jump out of the bath to rush and tell me?”

“No.”

“Then why want to kill them?”

“Because you were such a dumbass that gave them the run of the place.” You accused, desperately wishing you could throw something at his head and cause him pain. When you saw his eye twitch beneath his glasses you saw no point in hiding what had happened. As much as you both clashed, he did tell you everything when you asked. “They came into my room and walked in while I was bathing.” You began, tensing with the speed Doflamingo was on his feet and  mirroring your stance on his side of the desk. Hands digging into the edge of the table while he leant towards you. 

“They saw you?” He asked, his tone darkening to a point it made your stomach flip but you quickly ignored it. “Did they touch you?”

“They didn’t hurt me, don’t worry no one’s taken that privilege from you yet.” You said with a roll of your eyes. “The real insult was them implying that I was a whore they could afford, but apparently Joker’s such a swell and generous guy you might be convinced to share me around.”

At that Doflamingo’s lips curled back into a fierce snarl. This group of scum just couldn’t resist digging the graves deeper could they? While he had allowed them to do as they pleased to get more ammunition on them to exact appropriate punishments for them, he honestly hadn’t expected this development or this rush of barely contained fury it brought. Diamante, Trebol and Pica stared at you both nervously, their young master mostly and became fearful. It’d been a long time since they’d seen him this way. “Who were they?”

“Didn’t get their names.” You quipped, unbending and refusing to give him the answer he wanted. “Even if I did I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Why not?” Doflamingo ground out, his fingers beginning to press deeper into the thick wood, faint cracks sounding. 

“So you could kill them before I got a chance to?” You demanded with a sharp shake of your head as you glared at him. “I don’t think so. I’m not going to tell you a damn thing about them. They’re mine to kill.” You insisted with cold finality in your tone. For a while you and Doflamingo stayed locked in an intense staring contest where there didn’t seem to be an obvious winner. 

“Fine.” Doflamingo finally growled, teeth clenched together. “You get your wish. You can kill the ones you want. Just at least make it entertaining.”

You immediately straightened, satisfied that the King of Dressrosa gave in and smirked. It honestly hadn’t mattered what he said. You were going to kill those three regardless of his permission or not but you quickly squashed the feeling of relief it brought when he said you could. Part of the reason you hadn’t outright killed the three in your bathroom then and there was because you didn’t want to ruin the plan he’d formulated while waiting for their arrival. Quickly you stepped from the desk and turned to leave. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

When you unlocked the door and left Doflamingo slammed his hands into the desk, the single bow shattering it to pieces instantly. It wasn’t enough he needed to kill them all now, to watch their bodies writhe in agony as they were sliced to pieces and forced to kill each other but yet he managed to restrain himself. Aggravatingly he’d promised you, you’d get to kill your targets and he didn’t want to go back on it. Mostly because he was finally seeing a part of you you’d kept hidden begin to come out and he wanted to see what you’d do without that restraint but also because he didn’t want to go back on his word to you. As much as the bile and rage burned in his chest and throat he forced himself to hold it back. How dare those maggots and filth personified believe they could touch you. Then it came to him. He’d asked had they touched you. Not had they harmed you. His concern in that moment hadn’t been had someone done what he couldn't in marking you or causing you pain. “Pica, from now on you stay with them when they’re on their own.” Doflamingo finally commanded, his voice shallow yet still heavy with authority. “No one touches them without their say-so. Understood?”

Pica nodded sharply and his body disappeared into the stone, immediately going to his new post in keeping a protective eye on you. Slowly Doflamingo flexed his fingers repeatedly as his mind tried to focus on the plan and reminded himself by the end of the night every single one of the scum currently scurrying through his home would be dealt with after they all learnt the very painful lessons to never try and best him or touch what was his.  

———————————————-

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[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: hey there! i never actually planned on writing a sequel to ‘9 pm’ but a few anons asked about it and i liked the idea of giving them some happiness following that fic! the perfect title gave me the idea for the fic and here we are ☺️ i hope you guys enjoy!!

word count: 2.8k

tw: brief and minor mention of a miscarriage, pregnancy

direct sequel to 9 p.m. in vancouver

summary: andrei’s off on a road trip and you’re more exhausted than normal. once you realize why, you have to call andrei immediately

It’s barely ten at night and you’re falling asleep on the couch, Friends rerun playing at a low volume on the TV. Your blinks get longer, eyelids heavy, while Joey yells about the Coast Guard.

A yawn creaks at your jaw and you try to blink away some of the sudden exhaustion in your body. It doesn’t really work, another yawn catching you a few minutes later. You wrap your arms around one of the throw pillows, cheek smashed up against the pillow tucked under your head.

It’s been a long few days, work overwhelming you and Andrei up in the tri-state area for a mini road trip. The Canes had lost to the Flyers before beating the Devils. They’re currently up two goals on the Rangers, according to your NHL app updates, with just a few minutes left in the third.

The team will spend the night in the city before heading to Long Island for the second half of a back to back tomorrow.

It’s a grueling schedule so early in the season, four games in six days, and you know Andrei will be exhausted when he gets home on Monday morning. At least they’re off for two days before hitting the ice for a home game on Wednesday. You yawn again and decide vaguely that maybe you’ll go to the game, if you can keep your eyes open. It’s been a while since you went to the arena and you miss watching Andrei play live.

You can’t help but think briefly about the game in Vancouver last November, almost a year ago now, and your hand drifts to your stomach.

The baby would’ve been four months old, probably keeping you wide awake right now.

You don’t really think about the loss as much anymore, you can go long stretches of time without thinking about him - because you’d decided that it was a boy, even though it was too early to ever tell. Your due date had come around at the end of July and Andrei had spirited you out of the country, the both of you quiet and moody for a few days.

And then training camp had started and you’d gotten busy with work and then the season started and you didn’t dwell on the loss for a while.

But now it’s late and you’re tired and you haven’t seen Andrei in a few days and you should be cuddling a baby right now.

A few tears trickle down your temple and you swipe at them, emotion clogging your throat.

“God, get a grip,” you mutter to yourself, shaking your head slightly. It’s not even like you’re on your period to be so hormonal right now. Your brain takes a second to process the thought and when it does, your eyes widen and you kick your legs out, struggling with the blanket to try and sit up.

“Oh, oh my god,” you scramble for your phone, tossing blankets around until you hear the tell-tale thunk of the phone hitting the floor. You lunge for it, the TV remote going flying, but you barely pay attention to that as your fingers wrap around the loop on the back of your phone case and snatch it off the floor.

Your hands shake violently as you unlock your phone and thumb over to find your period tracker app. The app takes seconds to load, seconds where your heart beats wildly and your vision goes a little blurry. You mutter, “come on, faster, faster,” under your breath and suddenly the screen loads and there in the center of the screen, in bold font, is the notice that your period has been late for more than thirty days.

You’ve missed two periods.

Without even realizing it.

To be fair to yourself, after the miscarriage, everything was thrown off and you’ve only had seven or eight periods in the past year. So it’s not totally crazy that you didn’t realize you missed two cycles.

Your stomach lurches a little bit and you chew at your lower lip. You probably should take a test. But do you want to know without Andrei, again?

It didn’t work out so well last time.

You’re probably not even pregnant, you rationalize, it’s the stress of a new season starting and your body getting back to normal.

Never mind the fact that you’ve long been cleared to get pregnant again and your gynaecologist hadn’t said anything was wrong at your last appointment.

Your phone vibrates in your hand, nearly scaring the shit out of you. It’s just a notification from the NHL app - sometime in the last few minutes, while you’d been spiralling, the Rangers had tied the game and it was going to overtime.

Overtime anxiety is better than maybe-pregnant anxiety, so you tune into Bally, the sudden brightness of the glare off the ice making you blink. You’re half-heartedly paying attention, fingers tapping against your thigh while the players zip up and down the ice, trading scoring chances. Andrei’s on the ice for a shift and then he’s back on the bench. Pyotr makes a save and then another and then he doesn’t.

You frown at the TV, watching Andrei and the guys file off the ice, miserable for the team’s loss. You change the channel back to Nick at Nite, not interested in seeing the post-game analysis of the loss.

The audience laughter from the show echoes around the living room and you chew at your lower lip anxiously. Andrei won’t be back to his hotel room for hours, the post-game process already underway, but between media, a shower, and the travel. Well, it’ll be at least close to midnight before you can talk to him.

He’ll reassure you that you’re overthinking, that it’s nothing. But a quiet part of your brain is insistent that you’re pregnant and it just won’t shut up.

The smartest thing would be to take a test, find out once and for all if you’re even going to mention anything to Andrei. You’re pretty sure there’s no tests left after last time and if there are, they’re probably expired.

Your fingers tap at the screen of your phone almost by memory, the Google search showing that there’s a twenty-four hour CVS just a ten minute drive away.

The episode ends and another begins while you sit on that information, giving yourself a moment to imagine what you’ll do if the test is positive. He has to know immediately this time, you don’t think you’d be able to wait.

“Oh fuck it,” you mutter to yourself, pushing the blankets off your legs and getting up from the couch. Your vision goes fuzzy, briefly, the blood rushing from your head. You blink and everything shifts back into focus, your heart hammering a little.

Before you can overthink it, you turn off the TV and head for the front door, making a stop at the front hall closet to grab a jacket. Your fingers close around the sleeve of one of Andrei’s, the jacket dwarfing your frame as you slip your arms into the sleeves. You shove your feet into a ratty pair of Uggs and drop a faded Canes ball cap on your head.

You look insane, more like a college kid doing a walk of shame than a married woman, but Andrei’s scent embedded deep into the collar of his jacket is comforting you.

At CVS, you grab at the pregnancy test boxes like a woman possessed - Clear Blue, First Response, and the CVS generic brand all go into your basket, along with a bag of pumpkin shaped Reese’s Cups and a pack of Twizzlers. Something about the waxy, artificial strawberry ropes seems appealing right now.

Thank God for self-checkout, you don’t think you can face another person right now.

The pregnancy tests feel like they weigh a million pounds in the plastic bag and you gnaw anxiously on a Twizzler as you drive back home.

It’s well after midnight by the time you manage to drink enough water in order to pee on all the sticks and this round is more anxiety producing than when you’d done it over a year ago. Once you’re done, you set the timer on your phone and flip each stick over on the counter, so you can’t see the displays.

Instead of waiting in the bathroom, which is feeling small and stuffy despite how large it actually is, you pace around your bedroom for the few minutes it takes for your timer to count down. You wonder if you could call Andrei now, be on the phone with him when you look at the display, but if you’re not pregnant and he’s on the phone, he’ll be disappointed right before the next set of games. He’s been talking about it a little more lately, in the abstract, how nice it’ll be to have a baby one day. And you maybe haven’t been as enthusiastic as he’s been, so you don’t want to get his hopes up.

If you’re not pregnant, Andrei doesn’t need to know that you worried yourself into a tizzy over nothing.

But if you are? Well, Andrei will be the first call anyway.

The timer goes off on your phone and the sudden, shrill noise makes you jump. Your stomach lurches and you flatten your palm over it. Underneath the anxiety, there’s a little bubble of excitement growing, the thought of a baby providing a little spark of joy.

You wander back into the bathroom and close your eyes before flipping the tests over with shaking hands.

The plastic clatters against the countertop and you squint one eye open and then the other, vision focusing on the little displays.

“Oh!” You gasp, eyes immediately filling with tears, hands flying up to cover your mouth.

All three are positive, the little Clear Blue display declaring you ‘Pregnant’ in tiny letters.

Tears slip down your cheeks and you start giggling wildly, overwhelmed in the best possible way. Your hands press on your stomach, palms flat and fingers splayed.

“Hey there, baby,” you murmur, looking down. “Stay safe in there, okay? We want to meet you.”

The tears fall faster and you wipe at them with your shoulder, a damp splotch forming on the fabric of your sweatshirt. It’s so late, but you need to tell Andrei, and you move on autopilot, climbing onto your bed and finding your phone among the messy covers - the bed hasn’t been made in two days because Andrei is more of a stickler for that than you are and you like to get right back into the nest of blankets at the end of the day. It’s on your list of things to do before he’s back in a few days. Now, you pile yourself into a little cocoon of the blankets and comforters, warm and happy.

You text him first, just a quick ‘you awake?’ that you know he’s going to read as a request for phone sex.

True enough, your phone vibrates in your hand a few seconds later, Andrei’s name at the top of the screen. You grin and slide the bar to answer, “hey there.”

“Is late,” he replies, a faint laugh in his tone. “Thought you would be sleeping.”

“No,” you giggle, feeling a little unhinged. “Not asleep. Couldn’t sleep. Um, are you alone?”

Your husband laughs fully now, the sound echoing over the line. “Solnyshka, been a long day. I love you, but we have early morning,” he teases and the rumble of his voice makes you smile.

“No, not for that you perv,” you shoot back, twisting your fingers in a loose thread. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

You know you’re sounding vague and strange, but to his credit, Andrei doesn’t call you out on it. Instead, he’s quiet for a second before your phone vibrates against your ear, signalling an incoming text. You pull the phone from your ear and tap over to your messages, laughing when you see the picture Andrei just sent.

The hotel room is nearly pitch black, but you can still make out the shape of Martin Nečas passed out in his bed with what looks like an eye mask covering his face. Andrei’s grinning face is cut off in the corner of the picture.

“Guess that’s a yes then,” you smile, bringing the phone back to your ear.

“Neci has earplugs in too,” Andrei informs you. “Says I snore, which is lie.”

It’s not, but you don’t feel like relitigating that particular point with him right now. So you move on.

“I know I should’ve waited, done something cute, but I’m bursting,” you let the words come out in a rush, feeling lightheaded with excitement. “I couldn’t, I had to tell you right away, Drei, baby, I’m pregnant.”

Andrei’s silent on the other end and a slightly manic laugh bubbles out of your mouth while you wait for him to say something.

“Pregnant?” He repeats, sounding like he’s just taken a blow to the stomach - winded and hoarse. “Like, with baby?”

“Yeah, mhm,” you hum, just letting the news soak in. Andrei’s breathing is audible in your ear, a soft ‘huh’ puffing out.

He starts to laugh and you can hear the grin in his voice when he says, “oh, solnyshka, fuck, I’m… ya chertovski schastliv.”

He slips into Russian and you’re not totally familiar with the words, but he repeats them in English, “I’m so fucking happy. Are you okay? How you feel?”

“I’m okay, I was feeling a little tired earlier,” you say. “That’s kind of why I took the test, just to see.”

Without asking, Andrei switches the call to a FaceTime and you pull the phone back, his grinning face taking up the entire screen. He looks lighter and happier than he has in months and the sight of him, of that smile that you love so much, makes you emotional.

“I wish I could kiss you,” he shakes his head, still smiling. “Hold you, something other than smile like idiot on phone.”

“I’m just happy to see your smile,” you say truthfully. A hug wouldn’t be unwelcome, but just seeing Andrei’s face has you calmer. “It’s late,” you continue, catching sight of the time in the top left corner of your phone - nearly 1:30 in the morning. “You should get some sleep.”

The adrenaline is starting to wear off now and you slump back against the pillows and headboard.

Andrei nods. “Call me when you get up,” he requests, phone bouncing slightly as he shifts on the bed. “We leave early, but call any time, okay?”

“Okay,” you promise, pressing your lips together to smother a yawn. “Hey, I love you.”

“Ya tebya lyublyu,” Andrei replies in Russian, warm and awed. “You and baby, both.”

You’re both quiet for a bit, comfortable and sleepy, reluctant to end the call. You just want to enjoy his long-distance presence and this little bubble, but eventually Martin lets out a snore on his side of the room, startling you since you forgot he was there. Andrei laughs faintly and reluctantly ends the call, after telling you he loves you again.

Now that Andrei knows, your whole body relaxes and you sink happily into the nest of blankets and pillows, curled up in a c-shape, one hand on your stomach.

There’s a million things to figure out in the coming days, weeks, and months, a million worries to ruminate on, but for now, you fall asleep with a smile on your face and pure happiness bubbling in your stomach.

The next morning, you snooze your alarm and allow yourself to wake up slowly and lazily. It’s an easy morning and you don’t plan on getting out of bed until you hear the doorbell ring.

With a grumble, you climb out of bed and shove your feet into a pair of slippers to pad downstairs, wondering who could be at the door this early.

It’s a delivery man, half-hidden behind a huge bouquet of flowers. You accept it, surprised at the delivery but not at the sender.

The oversized bouquet made up of baby roses, baby’s breath, and a few other types all in various shades of baby pink and baby blue can only be from your husband. Your face hurts from the size of your smile and you dig out the little card from between a pale pinks rose and a light blue hydrangea.

‘I love you, we will celebrate as soon as I am home. A hug and a kiss from New York for you, mama. -A’

It’s not Andrei’s handwriting, but you trace your fingers over the letters and feel tears well up. Any concerns or worries you might have about having a baby are pushed aside.

Andrei’s going to be the best dad and you’re so lucky to be doing this with him.

[vivalas-vega]

top gun: maverick masterlist

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key: ✩ author’s favorite ♢ angst ♡ fluff ⚤ m/f smut ⚢ f/f smut

JAKE 'HANGMAN' SERESIN

multi-part series:

until next time ♢ ♡ ⚤ (ongoing)

A letter from you to your best friend read by the wrong pilot leads to a new connection and a surprising mail-based friendship.

one / two / three

✩ new perspectives ♢ ♡ ⚤ (ongoing) 

You and Jake Seresin have been inseparable since age ten... somewhere along the way you fell in love and when college and flight school rolls around you have to make the hardest decision of your life.

prologue / one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven

new perspectives universe one shots + drabbles

match ♡

Jake surprises you at your match day ceremony.

j&j wedding moodboard

easier ♢ ♡ (ongoing)

You secure your first confirmed air-to-air kill on your first mission as team leader... only no one told you how difficult it would be to process and the only person who can understand what you're going through steps in to help.

one / two 

move on ♢ (ongoing)

The love of your life vanishes in the middle of the night leaving you reeling and leaning on the only person you can still trust.

one / two / three

✩ real friends ♢ ♡ (on hiatus)

One day your competitive working relationship with Jake Seresin takes a hit and results in a pact between the two of you that you never saw coming.

one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

shot through the heart ♡ / and you’re to blame ♡ ⚤ / you give love a bad name (mini-series)

Pushed together planning your best friends wedding your forced to notice someone you'd previously overlooked.

one-shots/requests:

✩ flygirl ♡ ⚤ (one-shot)

The Dagger Squad, and more specifically Jake Seresin, decide it's time their favorite bartender experience life in a Super Hornet.

✩ late ♢ ♡

A delayed period forces you to have a conversation you've been putting off with your boyfriend.

mistletoe ♡

Jake comes home to find you amidst a winter wonderland and can't help but fall more in love with you and your spirit.

✩ sunshine ♢ ♡

You and Jake are recalled to Top Gun... only problem? Jake has no idea you're in the Navy.

before he cheats ♡ (request)

While drinking away your breakup at the bar, Jake finds out about your extracurricular activities and steps in.

worry ♢ ♡ (request)

Stressed and overworked, your husband steps in to remind you to take care of yourself before taking care of others.

birdstrike ♢ ♡ (request)

Jake grapples with the thought of losing you after an accident in the air leaves him rattled.

family dinner ♢ ♡ (request)

You and Jake attend dinner with your parents, a diligent homemaker and retired Navy hotshot, and when your parents have their own ideas about your trajectory in life, Jake steps in to stand up for you.

into you ♢ ♡ (request)

Forced to watch the man you want and your best friend getting closer, you push them both away without bothering to clarify the situation.

NATASHA 'PHOENIX' TRACE

boyfriend ⚢ (one-shot)

Phoenix steps in to give you the attention you deserve when your boyfriend spends the night neglecting you.

at your pace ♢ ♡ (request)

Your relationship with Natasha has remained a secret as long as you've been in North Island, until her backseater puts the pieces together and gives her the nudge she needs to come out to her team.

BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW

firecracker ♢ ♡ (on hiatus)

When you and your childhood best friend are recalled for the same high stakes mission you have to navigate ever-changing relationships along with keeping your familial name a secret.

one / two

✩ longshot ♢ ♡ ⚤

A series of unfortunate events lead you back to your hometown and straight to the professor that's been on your mind ever since you graduated.

one

unexpected ♡ ⚤

An educational trip to the waterfront for Fleet Weeks ends in a handsome naval aviator asking you on a date.

one

DAGGER SQUAD

make the friendship bracelets ♡ (one-shot)

On a whim you decide to surprise the squad with a token of your appreciation.

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine taking Rayleigh and Shakky out on a date

This is part 2 of this post

Rayleigh: so you want to take us out on a pretend date to spite your first mate and captain for bullying you?

Reader: I know how it sounds, but I figured it'd be a good way to get back at them.

Shakky: While I'm all for helping you get revenge, I don't understand your logic.

You: well, Rayleigh is Shanks's father figure.

Rayleigh: That's not how I'd put it, but I suppose I'm the closest thing he's got.

You: And while I know you two have an open relationship, I thought fucking my captain's father figure would be crossing a line.

Shakky: probably a wise move.

You: And I wanted you to go on a fake date with you, Shakky because Benn has had a crush on you for years, but has been too nervous to ask you out on a date.

Rayleigh: so a date, with both of us, would be two birds with one stone.

Shakky: Oh, I know about his little crush, his poker face is terrible

You: I know, right? I saw him in here earlier, looking at you, he was about as subtle as a sea train.

Rayleigh: *turns to his wife,* What do you think?

Shakky: I dunno.

You: I'll pay for dinner.

Shakky: Deal.

Rayleigh: Pick us up at six thirty tonight.

That night during dinner

Rayleigh: *drinking straight from the wine bottle you ordered*, So how's the brat supposed to know you took us on a date?

You: Well, he planned on dining here at seven, so by the time our food arrives, he should be here. But you know him, he's not good at sticking to plans. If he doesn't come, we could take a picture as a backup plan.

Shakky: Sounds like a plan, in the meantime, we should have a proper date.

Rayleigh: yes, tell us about yourself.

An hour later

You: And Shanks, buck ass naked, slips on the wet rocks, falls, and smacks against the surface of the water!

Shanks: (y/n)?

You: *looks over to notice Shanks and his inner circle gawking at you*

Rayleigh: hey sport

Shanks: what's going on here?

Shakky: what does it look like? We're having a date with this little cutie. *wraps her arms around you and rests her head on your shoulder, giving a pointed smirk at Benn*

Rayleigh: *puts his arm around both you and Shakky and pulls you into his side,* They were just telling us about your skinny sipping mishap on Koala Island.

Shanks: No

You: yep

Benn: *glaring daggers at you,* You little shit, how long has this been going on?

You: Not long, this is the first date.

Shanks: Is this because of what we said two weeks ago?

You: a little

Shanks: *pouts,* We were just teasing.

Shakky: You're interrupting our date, it's quite rude.

Shanks: Fine, enjoy your evening.

Later

Shanks: *alone, passed out drunk on his table*

Rayleigh: *sighs* this boy I swear.

Shakky: Want to ditch him with our tab?

You: Yeah, but we're not gonna leave him without the cash, *pulls out his wallet and puts the Berry you brought along inside before sliding it back into his pocket*

The next day on the Red Force

You: *walks onto the ship only for everyone to stare at you*

Benn: You have some explaining to do.

Shanks: *bursts out of his cabin,* Did you fuck them?

You: no, I thought that'd be crossing a line.

Shanks: then where did you stay last night?

You: In their guest room, I helped Shakky open this morning because Rayleigh had wandered off after our date... Look, it wasn't a real date, Boss, I was upfront with them about my intentions.

Shanks: We didn't bully you.

You: It certainly felt like it to me, and when I voiced that hurt, you didn't apologize, and basically told me to stop sulking. So I wanted you to know how it felt, so I asked Rayleigh and Shakky to help me get back at you for bullying me.

Shanks: I see, *reflects on his behavior for a moment* I'm sorry we teased you, it was supposed to be a joke but ended up hurting your feelings.

You: Apology accepted.

Shanks: Now, please never date any of my former crew mates from my time with Roger.

You: I promise I won't knowingly date any of them.

Shanks: I don't like the way you phrased that, but fine, I guess.

Benn: Now that that's done, tell me how in the hell you got Shakky to go on a date with you.

You: Again, it was a fake date, but I simply asked.

Benn: I was afraid you were gonna say that.

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[toxinoire]

The craziest thing about Epic is that it didn't need Ody's canon to The Odyssey SA to show that Odysseus has lost his own autonomy anyway.

He embraces his side as "the monster" until you question, is he really? Or did he really have no choice?

Looking at the line of "I am not your kind and gentle husband" makes me think back to Just A Man.

It is shown that Odysseus really hates being soldier. He had no choice but to kill the infant because Zeus told him to. And Troy? If we look at The Iliad, he didn't want to go to war from the beginning. And this is the first real time he loses a part of him; his kindness makes him argue with Zeus, his gentleness makes him willing to raise the boy. But he couldn't defy the King of The Gods.

And then Polites tries to bring those parts back, even unintentionally. But Athena tries to tell him he can't do that--his mentor contributes to losing those aspects of himself.

Next is when Polites dies, and well, that's self explanatory.

Another is when Polyphemus kills some of his crew. Part of his identity is being a captain, a king. He knows how to lead people. But then shit went down and he slowly fails to be captain anymore.

And then Poseidon adds onto making Odysseus lose that side of himself more by killing majority of his men.

Circe's Island made him hold onto the scraps of being a captain he has left in him. But even so, Circe tried to lust him so she could kill him, which itself is bad. Though Circe lets them go, even though Ody was unaware of Circe almost killing him, that itself made him hold onto the husband part of him more. That's what got him out of it.

So the Underworld. He hears the screams of his men, and their last thoughts blaming him. Their last thoughts being "Captain, why would you let the Cyclops live when ruthlessness is mercy-" is them blaming Odysseus for their deaths. This makes him lose more of his captain side.

Then he sees Polites, and then his mom. He breaks down again after we last saw him do so in Troy.

And then Tiresias shows him his fate, which he misinterprets. Why? We all know the man is him, but why did he not think it was him? He was holding onto the husband part of him the most, so much that it blinded him.

So here comes song 20.

And in the Thunder Saga, we see him lose more of his gentleness and kindness. He's also barely holding onto being a captain by a thread.

Scylla is the entire explanation.

Mutiny is the last bit of that thread and it finally snapped during Thunder Bringer. He lost his leadership, he's no longer a captain. And quite frankly, it traumatized him so much already.

Calypso's island, though this version makes Calypso naive, she, like Jorge said, is ruthless in her own way. He was trapped. He was probably still holding onto the husband aspect of him subconsciously, as to why he never slept with her. But it was buried pretty deep.

"All I hear are screams" Who's to say he hadn't been hearing this for the past seven years, but that day he was so close to losing to those screams. He lost his side of being a captain, he lost his side of being a friend, he lost his side of being gentle and kind.

So his side as a husband is all he could hold onto anymore in The Vengeance Saga. During Full Speed Ahead, we see his king aspect through the lyric "Ithaca's waiting, my kingdom is waiting" but in Dangerous, he has no more king aspect. It's just him wanting to be home to his family at this point.

And then he loses himself more in Six Hundred Strike, as he lost his last bits of mercy when Poseidon offered him none. All that's left of him is wanting to be with Penelope, and his hopes of finally seeing his son.

The suitors' plans had been horrible. But honestly, he would have killed them anway even if they hadn't planned shit. He lost his patience for threats, he lost his mercy, his gentlessness. He is still cunning, but he's gone. Odysseus, King of Ithaca, is gone. "Old king" He's still king by title, but can he really manage a whole kingdom anymore? Like he used to since he was thirteen?

If it had not been for Penelope, he never would have embraced that he, no matter what, is still just a man, no matter how monstrous. But he lost so much of himself, and he knows. He lost his own autonomy, he lost what he knew of himself.

Finally holding his son and his wife yelling at him made him understand that he's still human, but post Epic/The Odyssey the man is already so traumatized, that he most likely forgot so many things of himself. He lost what made him Odysseus, King of Ithaca, which is a BIG part of him. Odysseus, husband of Penelope, father lof Telemachus, is all that's left of him. While those may be the most important parts of him, he's still traumatized, and only knows of himself as a monster now.

He is, quite frankly, no longer him.

[animasolaoriginal]

I n f a t u a t e d ♦️SIX

CHAPTER ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE SIX SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾️TEN ELEVEN◾TWELVE◾️THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN◾FIFTEEN SIXTEEN◾SEVENTEEN◾EIGHTEEN◾NINETEEN◾TWENTY

As they talk ground rules concerning their unique situation, she finds herself agreeing to whatever he tells her, ultimately confessing her reason for allowing all the vile things he does to her. Dangerous information in his hands, and he knows exactly how to use it to his advantage, pushing her limits even further.

ruthless nightclub owner ❌ innocent young woman with a crush

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Age gap. Size difference. Dubcon elements. Dom/sub dynamic. Free use/power play. Oral cockwarming. Anal fingering/sex. Rough oral sex/deepthroating. (For more tags, check it on AO3!) // WORDS: 7.4k

A/N: Please remember to check the tags very thoroughly! This chapter is a little rougher. Just a heads-up.

FIVE 🟥 SIX 🟥 SEVEN

She focuses on what he told her: Get dressed. Ignore the pain, she tells herself. It's hard, very hard, one wrong move and there are new tears in her eyes. It's a strange pain, deep-rooted, a soreness of muscles she had no idea she even had. Walking is tough, but sitting is even worse.

After somehow managing to slip into the clothes he put out for her (the dress is cute, a happy color, the soft fabric moving around her thighs, brushing against her sore butt, the thong however sits a little too tight between her cheeks, pressing hard against the knob of the plug, every movement only adding to the discomfort), she slowly makes her way into the kitchen on unsteady legs, pressing her lips into a thin line, breathing hard through her nose.

He sits on a bar stool at the kitchen island, sipping on his coffee, his eyes moving away from the phone in his hand towards her when she approaches. His smile makes her forget about the little sparks of pain when she moves closer. He pulls her against him, leaning in to kiss her forehead, luckily not forcing her onto his lap or onto the stool next to him.

“Help yourself,” he says with a nod to the coffee pot and a variety of breakfast foods laid out on the counter in front of him. Fruits, toast, buns, oats, other cereals, jam, slices of cheese and ham, fried bacon, small sausages, too much to choose from, really.

Letting go of her again, he looks back at his phone, seemingly scrolling through emails. She turns her head away quickly, doesn't want to be too nosy, so she leans in and grabs a piece of sliced apple, nibbling on it, not really hungry after all.

She stands a little awkwardly next to him, leaning on the counter, the same counter he had her bent over yesterday. It's a strange thought and an even stranger thing to eat off the same surface now. Or to think it's been a day (and a long night) since she woke up in his place, as his... whatever she is to him. His to fuck whenever he wants, apparently. It's still all a little fuzzy.

This somehow turned from a simple hook-up to her asking him to take her virginity to him taking her however and wherever he likes, and it's only taken him one day (and that awfully long night) to breach all her holes, take all her firsts, and it doesn't feel like it's the end of it. And somehow she is glad, in a twisted sort of way. Glad he didn't drop her after he's used her. Instead he provides her with clothes, food, keeps her close. Despite all the pain she's in, it feels strangely nice to have someone take care of her like that.

Someone who does the thinking for her – which is only fair when he is the one who takes away her ability to do so in the first place. Another thing she finds enjoyable despite the soreness it leaves, is how he never fails to give her that head-empty-feeling. No worries, just fucked out of her mind, happy. A feeling she only ever achieved with drinking too much, and somehow getting fucked is better than having to deal with the aftermath of too much alcohol.

“So, how do you feel?” he asks through the murky fog of thoughts inside her head, quite the opposite to how she feels when he does all these vile things to her.

She swallows the apple bite and licks her lips. “Sore,” she says quietly. “But I'm fine... if I just stand here,” she adds, giving him a shy smirk.

He grins at her, though there is a furrow to his brows. Putting his phone into his pocket, he gets up, and she shifts to follow him, but he holds up his hand. “Wait here,” he tells her, and she nods, watching him leave the open kitchen into another room she hasn't seen before. She's barely seen anything of his place, to be honest, but she has the impression there'll be time for that yet.

When he comes back, he grabs a small water bottle from the fridge and holds out two pills in his palm, one slightly larger than the other. She looks up at him, hesitantly takes the medicine.

“One for the pain and one... for after,” he says, cocking his head to the side. She frowns at the explanation. “You're not on birth control, are you?”

His question heats up her face. Clearing her throat, she looks down at the pills. “No,” she mumbles.

“Take these then,” he says, pulling his phone out of his pocket, quickly sliding his thumb over the screen. “I'll get you the pill. You'll need it...”

She doesn't know why this is so embarrassing to her (she's so embarrassed she doesn't even register the implication behind his words). It makes her feel like a child, someone who's way in over their head but doesn't want to admit to it. This is not the kind of taking care of her she thought about earlier, this feels like showing off her flaws, makes her realize she was not prepared for any of this to begin with.

Inhaling deeply, she puts the pills on her tongue and brings the water to her lips, swallowing hard to get them down. She empties the bottle, trying to empty her mind as well and not worry about anything anymore.

But now she thinks about accidentally getting pregnant because he couldn't stop pumping his freaking cum into her (and how she didn't even think about that possibility while he's done it), and how she feels so inexperienced and tiny next to him, him in his fancy suit pants and ironed shirt, typing on his phone, looking busy and important, and she's here in her small sundress that barely covers her thighs, barefoot, hair messy, face flushed, hurting from the inside out, useless.

He seems to feel her discomfort and without saying anything, he puts his large hand on her back, warm and comforting, rubbing softly up and down. She takes a deep breath, forces a smile and picks up another sliced apple piece, trying to focus on anything but her worries. She'd even have him fuck her senseless again, just to get rid of the nagging thoughts, soreness be damned.

“Okay,” he then says after a few minutes, his hand slipping to her lower back as he steps closer to her. She looks up, nibbling on the apple. He smirks at the sight, momentarily distracted. “Let's talk ground rules, shall we?” he eventually continues, sitting back down on the stool, lowering his towering height a little bit.

“Ground rules?” she asks, frowning at the change of topic.

“Yes. Think, darling, what are things I already told you to do and not to do?” He looks at her, a serious expression on his face, watching her so intently she feels her cheeks burn up even more.

“Uh,” she starts, thinking hard. It's a little contradictory to have her remember things he said when he keeps turning her brain off. “I... I uh...”

His hand grabs her chin, and she winces, eyes widening.

“Use your words,” he tells her sternly.

She swallows hard, her mind racing, her heart beating out of her chest. “I... I am yours to... use. You... you can... f-fuck me whenever you want,” she whispers, stumbling over her words, feeling even more embarrassed now. “And I... I can't say... no...”

He tilts his head, listening patiently. “Correct,” he says, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “Anything else?”

She frowns, biting the inside of her cheek. Her throat tenses up. She doesn't know what he wants to hear from her. It's like these horrifying moments when the teacher asks a question and you haven't listened to anything they said. Her stomach drops. “I... I don't know...” she murmurs under her breath, voice quivering, brows furrowing.

He stares at her, but then nods and loosens the grip on her jaw, gently cupping her cheek instead. “It's okay, I'll tell you,” he replies.

She relaxes slightly, but only until he lifts her onto his lap in one swift motion, effortlessly, his grip on her upper arms tight, and she flinches badly, unable to hide the pained little whine slipping from her lips. He moves her on his thigh, one arm wrapped around her, the other back on her cheek, tilting her face up. Her muscles protest, the ache flaring up as she shifts on his hard leg. She swallows any other sounds that threaten to spill from her, blinking quickly to keep the tears down as well.

His thumb wipes at the corner of her eye as he watches her closely. “Hurts, hm?” he whispers, and she nods. “You'll always have to tell me if you're in pain, okay? I can't read minds. Ask me for pain killers, ask me for anything, just ask. That's a key rule: you will ask me if you need anything, understood?”

“Yes,” she says, wincing before she adds: “Sir.”

“Repeat.”

“I... I'll tell you when it hurts, and I'll ask you if I need anything...”

He nods, caressing her cheek. “Good. That includes taking the plug out,” he clarifies, pushing his leg up slightly, coaxing another wince out of her as the motion pushes against the mentioned object stuck in her butt. “You don't have to wear it all the time, but you will ask me if you can take it out. Right?”

She nods, he looks at her. “Yes, sir,” she says quickly. “I... I'll ask you when I want the plug out...” His eyes narrow slightly, her heart skips a beat. “Uh, if... if I'm allowed to take it out...”

He huffs a laugh. “Exactly. You don't want anything. You take what I give you, you do what I tell you, always, no matter what, understood?”

“Yes, sir,” she mumbles, biting her lip, focusing more on the words to repeat than on their actual meaning. “I'll do what you tell me to do, take what you give me...”

“And that includes?” he asks softly, cryptically, leaning in a little, his finger tracing the shape of her lips.

She blinks in confusion.

He smiles at her, then brushes his lips against her ear. “If I pump you full of cum, you will not get rid of it. If it drips down your leg, you will let it drip. If it gathers in your underwear, you will walk around with it until I tell you to change. I will tell you if you can clean yourself or not.”

His words make her shiver, and it's not just the close proximity, how his deep voice vibrates through her body. It's humiliating to think he has this kind of power over her, making her wear his cum like a trophy. Taking away the innate want to be clean. She inhales sharply, hoping he won't notice the hesitation in her voice. “Y-yes, sir. I'll... keep it on... and in me, at all times...”

He leans back, watching her closely. “Good girl,” he says, and she shivers for a completely different reason, her breath hitching slightly. His eyes move over her burning face, a soft smile grazing his lips. “You'll do anything for me if I call you that, huh?” he adds quietly, almost mockingly.

She looks away, something hot growing inside her stomach. “Yeah,” she admits quietly, worrying her lip between her teeth. It's indeed worrying how he can see right through her, and even worse that she will in fact do absolutely anything for a bit of praise from him. Worrying and deeply disturbing.

“Isn't that good to know,” he whispers, leaning down to press his lips against her warm cheek. She swallows hard, still not looking at him. His hand moves along the column of her neck, a light pressure against her throat, thumb rubbing over her pulse. “Why did you come to me?” he then asks, making her look up with a frown. “You approached me. You made me take you... why?”

Made him... take her? It's that big black hole she has in her memory of how she actually got here. He took her after all, and it wasn't just for a hook-up, she knows that now. He wanted all of her, all for himself, for more than a night. All because she approached him first?

She tries to ignore the dark truth of his actions, focuses on his question, thinks back to the night she's first seen him. “I... I've noticed you before,” she then replies, quietly, watching him as he listens to her. “I've come to the club a lot, always because of... well, you. I wanted to be... one of those girls...” He raises an eyebrow. “Well, you know, you always had one or more around you, and they were all so pretty and tall,” she adds with a little purse to her lips, her words tumbling out of her mouth with a bit of a rush now. “And I wanted that too, I mean, not being tall, I can't just grow like that, right? But, uh, to have your attention. It's silly, isn't it? I barely know you... but... that doesn't matter much, hm? When there are... feelings... or, I guess, illusions of feelings or whatever this is?”

The lines on his forehead deepen slightly. “What are you saying?”

“I was... uh... well, I... I guess I had a... a crush on you,” she says quickly, averting her eyes as her blush expands to her ears and down her neck, a strange tightness settling in her stomach.

“Had?” he asks, nudging her chin with his knuckles to make her look up. “You no longer have a crush on me?”

She lets out a groan, her eyelids fluttering. To be honest, she has no idea. Is this still a crush or something else entirely? Whatever it is, it's anything but healthy, that much she can admit to. “No, I still... I think I still do...” she whispers, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Still, huh?” he says, his fingers moving up to cup her jaw, turn her face back towards him. “Despite everything?” She nods into his hand. “Aren't you a cute little thing...” he adds with a dark smile. “You're absolutely perfect, do you know that?”

His words surprise her, but as soon as he leans in to press his lips to hers, she doesn't question them anymore. Perfect for what? Doesn't matter. He wants her, all of her. Is it fucked-up and strange? Yes, certainly, but she doesn't care. She has his attention now, more than that even, more than she could have ever imagined (and this is clearly far beyond anything she could have ever thought up on her own).

Her hand finds his wrist, holding onto him as she moves her tongue against his, slow and intimate, a deep connection between two strangers who feel like so much more. What they are exactly, she can't say, and frankly, it doesn't matter.

After breakfast, he shows her around the penthouse. It is a penthouse, high above the city, a giant array of many rooms, most of them he tells her not to enter. There's a gym, another bedroom plus bathroom, his office that's connected to a library, a large room with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves she stares at longer than she should. The interior continues to be minimalist, a lot of blacks and whites, antique-looking wooden floors, intricate trim lining the walls. It looks expensive, luxurious, but ultimately also very masculine.

If she didn't know it already, she'd say this was the typical den of a bachelor, and from all she does know about him prior to waking up in his penthouse, he is one of the most popular ones. Rich and single, no wonder he was always surrounded by women in the club. His club. And to think she is the girl he chose to take back home? It's still mind-blowing to her.

He squeezes her hand to pull her out of the library, and she follows slowly. He's strangely gentle to her, always waits for her because she still can't walk properly (it is his fault though, so it's something a normal man is expected to do, but he is far from normal, that much she knows now, that's why it's such a surprise). He pulls her towards him when he explains things or when they step onto the large balcony that wraps around most of his apartment. And she feels safe, protected, and, despite her isolation from the rest of the world, not alone.

It's a sunny day today, contrary to yesterday, and she's in awe at the view she has over the city. If her whole body wouldn't be in pain from all the former ordeals he's put her through, she'd think she woke up a princess, or at least someone on the whole other end of the wealth spectrum.

She can barely think back to her old life, where she had a shitty job, lived in a shitty apartment the size of his walk-in closet, had barely any friends, mostly just acquaintances, who'd ask her to come along sometimes, and co-workers she'd talk to on occasion, and no family to rely on. It's been a hard, lonesome life, so to be able to spend her time here now, with him, she'd let him bruise her every single day for the rest of her life if it meant she could stay.

That is what this deal is, right? She doesn't have words for it, but it's the age old thing of giving a service to receive something in return. Letting him use her for a chance at a better life. Doesn't sound too bad, does it?

He finishes the tour in front of his office, one hand on her waist, head tilted down to look at her. “Do you want to lie down and rest now?” he asks her, his low voice so gentle she completely forgets about the other side of him, the dark one, the one that forces his cock into her ass to punish her.

She shakes her head. “I'm fine,” she says, stupid as she is, blinded by the pleasantries he's shown her.

The shift in his face is immediate. A dark glint settles in his eyes. “Yeah? No more pain?”

“Well, I'm still sore,” she says quickly, biting her lip. “But it'll be fine.” He seems to understand that she just doesn't want to leave him.

“Come join me in my office then,” he tells her, guiding her into the big room.

The giant desk is the center piece of the space, a large window behind it, a couch on one side, another, smaller desk on the other, framed by shelves and sideboards. Apart from the occasional plant, there's no clutter anywhere, not even on the desk, only a little cart beside it, laden with various alcohol bottles and glasses.

When he leaves her to walk around the desk and sit down on the leather chair, her eyes move to the door leading into the library. She's already turning into that direction, thinking about finding a book to read, when she stops, literally freezes on the spot as she remembers his rules.

She turns back to him, clearing her throat, licking her lips, suddenly very nervous. “Can I... can I get a book from the library?” she asks quietly.

He looks up in the middle of opening a laptop, one eyebrow perked up. “No,” he says, and she frowns at the harshness in his voice, her heart instantly sinking. “Come here,” he adds and waves her over.

Inhaling deeply, she shuffles to him. He rolls back in his chair, creating a space between his legs. The gesture is pretty obvious, the command unspoken, she still hesitates as she moves closer. His eyes darken as he watches her.

“Kneel,” he tells her, and she does, her heart beating faster.

She can't help but wince when she settles between his legs, hands on his thighs, looking up at him, carefully leaning on her knees as to not get the heels of her feet in contact with her sore butt.

His hands move to unbuckle his belt, long fingers opening his pants. “I want you to cockwarm me,” he then says, his eyes boring into hers. “Do you know what that is?”

“I... put your cock in my mouth and keep it warm?” she replies with a raised eyebrow.

“Smart,” he says, patting her head with a smirk. “Exactly like that. But I don't want you to suck me off, understood? You just keep my cock in your mouth, no sounds, no movements. Can you do that?”

She nods slowly, not entirely sure she understands correctly, but she's willing to please him nonetheless. “Yes, sir,” she whispers, shifting closer between his legs.

“I need to work, make some calls and video chats, and you are not allowed to interrupt me. No noises,” he repeats, looking at her pointedly. “If you need a break, you do so quietly. But you will not leave, you'll stay right here under the desk. Just a couple of hours, okay?”

A couple of hours? On her knees with his cock in her mouth? Hours? The shock must be obvious on her face, and he moves his hand down to caress her cheek.

“It's not as bad as you think. Just relax, make yourself comfortable down there. Keep me nice and warm, yeah?” The gentle voice is back, and she inhales deeply, feeling something warm settling in her stomach.

“Yes, sir,” she whispers, giving him a weak smile.

His fingers sink into her hair, and he moves her further under the desk before he rolls his chair closer. There's enough space, even though she feels as if sitting in a wooden box, caged in on three sides, the hard wooden floor beneath her, and the table top above her, but she can look past his chair and out of the window, sees the clear blue sky and some clouds floating by. She cannot see his face though, only his crotch. He grabs her wrist and guides her towards his cock as he frees it with his other hand.

She grips it gingerly, shifting closer on her knees, and she can already tell that this position will add to her list of pains. The floor is hard and unyielding, and her dress not long enough to work as a protective layer. Sighing quietly, she opens her mouth and lets him put his tip on her tongue, then he nudges her to close her lips around it. Her first instinct is to hollow her cheeks, but he quickly corrects her with a soft slap to her jaw.

“Hold completely still,” he reminds her, and she hums in response, nestling between his legs, hands holding onto his thighs, head as still as possible as she feels the weight of him on her tongue. And she's supposed to do this for a couple of hours? She almost wishes he'd just fuck her hard on his desk or something.

She can hear him typing on his keyboard, click clack, a monotonous sound, sometimes mixed with a soft thud when he puts his phone on the table. After only a few minutes, she is not only bored out of her mind, but also feels a slight ache in her jaw. Additionally, it's very hard not to move her tongue. It's so tempting to just flick it around his tip, feel the spongy flesh, taste more of him. His scent is already in her nostrils, and it has a strange effect on her.

An arousing one.

A loud exhale slips through her nose, and she feels him shifting in his chair, his hand coming down to grab her jaw. She lets out a muffled whine when he pulls her head to his crotch, letting him slip deeper into her mouth, but that is not what he intended to do. He presses her cheek down so it rests on his pelvis, close to his hip. She tries to settle into the new position, her knees aching already. Draping her arms around him, she adjusts and actually relaxes against him, his cock heavy on her tongue, a bit more than just the tip.

He ruffles her hair once she keeps still. “Good girl,” he whispers, before he focuses back on whatever he's doing above her. His words only increase the wet feeling between her thighs, but she tries to ignore it, focuses only on the weight and scent and feel of him in her mouth. She even closes her eyes, leaning against his warm body, occasionally trying to swallow the drool gathering on her tongue, which is harder with her mouth open like this, so she can't get it all down. Some drips past her lips, running down her chin. But she couldn't care less.

Suddenly his voice sounds above her, and she realizes he must be talking to someone, stern, professional, barking orders in a way that's demanding and authoritative. She doesn't care what he says, it doesn't matter to her. It's the thrum and timbre of his voice that lulls her, makes her sleepy, and she feels herself drifting off, jaw going slack, but then a jerk runs through her body, making her twitch, and she gasps as she realizes she's bumped into him as she fumbled to put his cock inside her mouth again.

He keeps talking as if nothing happened, but his legs press against her shoulders for a bit, and she relaxes into him again, adjusts her position, keeps her eyes open and stares past his crotch towards the wall – which is so boring. A simple white, maybe even a soft beige, she isn't sure. Could be the daylight that changes the color. Daylight. There are no shadows to follow, no indication of how much time has passed. Just his voice, then silence when he's done with the call, the click clack of his keyboard.

Sometimes he moves his hand under the desk to caress her hair, slip his fingers through it, massage her scalp. She hums softly then, and he allows the quiet noise. Her jaw is tense, upper lip is dry and no way to lick it, while more drool keeps running down her chin. She wipes at it with her hand while she keeps one arm around his waist to hold herself up. She is so bored, her mind empty and at the same time not as she thinks about things she would rather do than sit in this uncomfortable position on her knees.

It's not even his cock in her mouth, she's somehow fine with that, but everything around it, the keeping quiet, the not moving, the doing absolutely nothing. And she can't even fall asleep in fear she might bump her head when she wakes up or maybe even bites down on him because she can't control her jaw any longer. For what it's worth, it's these doubts that keep her awake at least.

To keep herself somewhat entertained, she tries to think back to all the things that happened since she woke up in his bed. Her memories are hazy, but she still remembers the moment when he forced the plug into her butt, just like that, as if it was a normal thing to do. And she had just let him – well, she couldn't really fight him, she's tried, oh and he'd spanked her for it also. So fighting him really is and was not an option.

While she thinks back to the beginning of their strange situation, she hears his voice again, interrupted by other voices. A video chat probably. Again she doesn't care what those men are talking about, it doesn't matter to her.

Rolling her jaw a little, accidentally pushing her tongue against the underside of his cock, she stiffens slightly, waits for his reaction, but nothing happens. He keeps perfectly still, a true professional talking to whoever, while some girl he picked up in his club cockwarms him under his desk. What a normal thing. What a strange world where this is indeed beginning to be normal to her as well.

She dares another little press of her tongue, feeling the texture of his warm skin, the veins throbbing beneath it, and again he doesn't do anything. In her mind she thinks back to the first time she had his cock in her mouth, that handjob turned blowjob on the couch, how he's forced her down on him, how panicked she has been – and in comparison to the next blowjob in the kitchen, he had been really gentle.

A shudder rushes through her as she remembers how he pushed into her throat, made her gag, that horrible twitch of her body she couldn't control, the feeling of not being able to breathe, choking on him and her own spit. Nothing she wants to experience again, but knowing her situation, she may not have the luxury to wish for anything.

When her thoughts become darker all of a sudden, she focuses back on the here and now, hears the drone of the voices above the table, feels his warm legs around her, ignores the ache of her knees and jaw, the constant flow of drool down her chin, the weight and heat and taste of his cock in her mouth.

Somehow he's gotten a little harder, thicker, filling her mouth more, straining against her lips, and she can't help but move her tongue beneath him, roll her jaw once more, and then she sucks, hollows her cheeks, not necessarily to do something to him, but to keep the spit inside her mouth. His hand is on her head in no time, fingers digging into her hair, and she forces herself not to make any noise as she flinches against him.

His grip is rough, but his hand is heavy, holds her down, in place, still, and she relaxes again, breathes deep through her nose, closes her eyes, doesn't move as she holds him between her lips. The tension in his fingers eases, and he starts to caress her again, gently massaging her scalp, all while talking to some men over a video call.

And eventually her head runs completely empty. The way he touches her, how his cock rests hot and hard and heavy on her tongue, his scent all around her, it's all there is, all that matters.

Him.

Someone to focus on, someone to please... someone to service...

Only him.

It's his voice in her head, a soft echo, getting louder, clearer. “Baby?”

Her eyelids flutter open, a new strand of saliva drips from her chin. His hand is on her jaw, catching it. It takes her a moment to realize where she is. Under the desk, between his legs, his cock still in her mouth. She moves her hand up, rests it on his thigh, and he slowly rolls his chair back. She follows the movement, shifts on her knees, a sudden sting crashing through her body, and a muffled groan escapes her.

“You can let go now,” he tells her quietly.

She blinks again, looking up from under her lashes, meeting his gaze. There's a soft smile on his lips. The heat in her stomach is instant, a fire jumping to life by the snap of a finger. She leans back hesitantly, using her hands to hold his cock and wipe at her wet mouth. Her first instinct is to swallow, really swallow, without anything obstructing the motion. Then she inhales deeply, not daring to let go of his erection. It's covered in her spit, as is part of his pants, and she feels her cheeks burning up.

His hand cups her face, thumb rubbing over her chin. She sits back on her knees, one hand braced on his leg, the other tight around his throbbing length. “You did good,” he tells her, nudging her to get to her feet, his other hand prying her fingers off his cock before he grabs it himself.

She more or less crawls out from under the desk, gets up on shaking legs, a strange weakness in her limbs from kneeling for however long he's made her do this. Her head is filled with cotton, a strange vertigo making her sway a little. Suddenly he's standing next to her after she's blinked a few times, that tall frame towering over her, warm, strong, confident.

“Come on,” he says, his voice a little muffled, his hands on her waist turning her until he gently pushes her stomach-first onto the desk. Confusion washes over her, her cheek rests on the cold wood of the tabletop. His knee is pushing her legs apart, he steps between them. Her heart beats faster. His hands move along her sides, following her curves, slip under the skirt of her dress.

He flips it up quickly, while her breaths turn almost frantic. What's going on? His fingers curl around her hips, pulling her back a little. Her hands find the edge of the table. She can only see him out of the corner of her eye, her vision is blurry, he's just this intimidating shadow behind her, backlit by the light streaming through the large window. Her legs twitch against him when she feels his finger in the cleft between her ass cheeks, following the fabric of her thong before pushing it aside, and a quiet wail escapes her.

“Shh,” he makes, not even hesitating when he tugs at the knob of the plug. She squirms a little, her rapid breaths fanning over the tabletop. His thumb presses the metal toy against her tight muscles, and she whimpers in response, the soreness within flaring up again.

“P-please...” she croaks out.

“Please what?” he asks, fingers closing around the base of the plug, pulling gently. “Please fill my ass? Please fuck me hard? Or please stop?” he teases.

She gasps when he suddenly pulls the plug out with a strangely wet pop. She knows she shouldn't answer him, it's a trap either way, but she can't help herself. “Please don't do this...”

He puts the plug on the table next to her, stepping a little closer between her legs. She hears him spitting into his hand, before something wet and warm slips between her cheeks, over her tense hole. He completely ignores her when he dips his finger into her ass.

“Don't! Please!” she whimpers, writhing on the desk.

He pokes his finger deeper. “Why?”

“B-because... you... you just said... said I did good,” she stammers, body shivering under his ministrations. “So... why... why are you... punishing me?”

“Punishing you?” he asks, genuine confusion in his voice as he stills his finger inside her. “This is not a punishment, sweetheart, it's a reward.”

Her response is a sudden sob, tears gathering in her eyes.

“Come on, do you really think anal sex is a punishment? Did it hurt that bad? Didn't you come when I fucked you in the shower? Can't you remember? I bet that felt good, huh?” While he speaks, he pumps his finger in and out, slowly adds another, repeats the motion, every word accentuated by a deep push of his hand against her ass, slow and steady.

She sniffles quietly, unsure what to say to that.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, fingering her harder, deeper, faster, his fingers stretching her tense muscles.

“A-a little,” she whispers.

“Really? Or is it just a strange feeling?”

His question makes her pause. Of course it's a strange feeling, she's never had fingers or other things pushed up her ass before she met him. But she does question the pain or discomfort. Because the more he pushes into her, the better it feels, or maybe her body just adjusts to the sensation, giving her the illusion that it may feel better?

“Huh? What is it?” he presses, moving his fingers faster, the squelching sound making her blush deeply.

“I... I don't know...” she whimpers.

“Does it hurt or does it not hurt? It's a simple question!” He sounds more and more agitated, but she can only breathe faster, whine louder.

“I don't know!” she cries out.

“Well, how about this,” he starts, pulling his fingers from her ass. “How's this then? Does this hurt?” he asks, and she feels the spongy tip of his cock press against her hole. It's a simple roll of his hips, and he's inside her, slipping deeper, slow shallow thrusts as he fills her out.

She can't even say anything or make any noise except a low gurgle from deep within her throat, she can barely breathe with how full she feels all of a sudden. Her fingers curl around the edge of the table, his thrusts, as slow and careful as they may be, pushing her back and forth. His hands grip her waist, it's a steady push and pull as his cock slides in and out, slowly getting faster.

The friction is worse than yesterday, her muscles too tense and unprepared and frankly still sore. He doesn't care, slipping deeper, pounding harder, going faster. Every thrust feeds the fire burning within, the bad kind, not the one smoldering in her stomach, but the one sending cold shivers over her skin as pain ripples through her.

“Does – it – hurt?” he asks through gritted teeth, every word stressed by a particularly hard snap of his hips.

She whines quietly, too overwhelmed to even comprehend the question or why he's asking it.

“Tell – me!” His grip around her waist tightens, fingers digging into the fabric of her dress, squeezing her sides.

She gasps, breathes rougher. “Yes... yes!” she wails.

He stops immediately, the only sound her little whines and the loud thumping of her heart in her ears. His hands ease their grip, moving lower over her curves, caressing her tense skin. His cock rests hard and heavy inside her, throbbing slightly. “Good,” he says, inhaling deeply. “Tell me what you want,” he then asks, kneading her cheeks lightly, pulling them apart as he waits for her answer.

This must be another trick question, she thinks frantically, trying to control her heavy breaths. “I... I don't... I don't want... anything...” she then whispers. Somehow that reply came to her, slipped over her lips, a deep-rooted understanding pushing to the forefront of her mind.

“Correct,” he whispers, surprise evident in his voice. “You don't get to decide what I do to you. You don't get to say no. You take what I give you...”

She closes her eyes, he resumes the rolling of his hips.

“And if I tell you that this is a reward, you better fucking believe it!” he ends, quickly picking up the pace, really hammering into her now.

She cries out, body convulsing, thighs slamming into the hard edge of the desk, the sudden onslaught of sensations making her head spin. His pants and groans become louder, his thrusts even harder, and she succumbs to it all, just takes it, like he wants her to, while hot tears roll over her cheeks, gathering under her head pressed to the table.

The pain is that heavy thing inside her, weighing her down, pulling her into all directions at once, overtaking everything she feels. It's mostly just... hurt. Burning, aching, thumping hurt. Though there is a strange heat building up as well, but it's flimsy, a feeling like trying to catch smoke. She's yearning for it, but it slips away every time he pushes particularly deep.

She's numb when he finally finishes, a loud grunt echoing through the room as he gives her that final thrust and stills, all of him inside of her, his cock throbbing angrily, balls twitching against her folds, ropes of cum shooting into her bruised depths, warm and filling. He leans his hands on either side of her body, breathing heavily as he comes down from his orgasm.

Her eyes are closed, lashes clumped, face wet from crying. Her body shudders deeply when he slowly pulls back, her muscles clenching around him until the pressure is gone, her hole left gaping, something hot and thick dripping from it. He moves his finger around her sphincter, teases it with his fingertip. “Clench,” he orders, and subconsciously or not, she does, muscles working around his digit. He pulls it out and grabs the plug, quickly pushes it back into place, sealing his cum inside her.

He rubs his hands along her rear, then adjusts her thong and pulls her skirt back over it. She hears him walking around the desk, and without much protest, she is being rolled onto her back, head hanging off the edge as he pulls her towards him. Moved like a doll. Used like a toy.

“Open your mouth,” he tells her, and again, she just does, pliant and defeated, her eyelids too heavy to open. His hand is under her head, holding it up, a strong but somehow comforting touch. There's nothing comforting about his next move.

His cock, still semi-hard, pushes into her mouth, her jaw protesting, his tip, wet and slippery, scraping over her gums. He bends her neck a little, stepping closer, sinking it deeper. It hits the back of her throat, and she feels that deep shudder, the uncontrollable twitch, the sliver of panic, when she gags around him, her throat working against the intruder. He pulls back a little, lets her swallow the spit and bile, before he pushes back in, deeper, deeper, filling her throat, his hips resuming those rolling motions, just against her face now.

With how he leans over her, how her head is held by his hands, she feels his tight balls slamming against her nose with every thrust. She's already breathless, gasping and gulping for air whenever he allows her some reprieve between gagging and choking. Spit and cum drip from her lips, trailing down the side of her head. She's too weak to fight this, can't do anything but let him fuck her face, push into her throat, over and over again, until she feels her consciousness slipping.

But he never lets her drift off, watching her closely, pulling back just in time. He seems to fully harden again, more and more with each deep plunge, his groans are quiet, his movements becoming jerkier. She feels so dizzy, muffled whimpers sitting right where he pushes into her throat. Somehow she's stopped gagging, her muscles relaxing enough to allow what he is doing to her.

His hands grip her head, holding her still as he pushes deep, stills there, and shoots thick warm spurts of cum right down her throat. The urge to breathe, to swallow, is that faraway thumping motion in the back of her mind. She doesn't care anymore. She just wants it to end. Tears and spit and cum leave trails on her flushed face. He pulls back eventually, his cock throbbing against her swollen lips, the last drops of his seed landing on her chin and further down her aching neck.

He pulls her off the table, her body limp in his hold. She can barely feel how he sits her down, holds her chin, nudges her softly. “Breathe,” he whispers, wiping at her soiled cheeks. His voice moves something within her, her stomach flutters, chest heaves, and with a deep sharp inhale, she resumes the frantic attempts to get air back into her lungs, gasping, gulping, coughing hard. He gently rubs her throat as he watches her.

She slowly calms down, though new tears spill from her lashes, hot and desperate, and she remains deeply disturbed by the turn of events. When her eyelids flutter open, she sees him leaning over her, watching her, eyes dark and stern.

“Did you like your reward?” he asks.

Something snaps inside her head like a twig that's being stepped on. The fucking audacity! She wants to scratch his eyes out, shove something down his throat for a change.

The sudden anger that rises within her makes her gasp, a deep shiver almost as bad as her gag reflex or the coughing fit that shook her earlier. It terrifies her. Where did that come from? Pressing her lips into a thin line, she only looks at him from under her lashes, afraid she might say something that will make him really angry.

His eyes narrow, jaw clenches. His hand closes around her throat. “When I give you a reward for good behavior,” he starts, his voice low and with a dangerous edge to it. “I expect you to be grateful. I expect you to say thank you.”

She stares at him, blinking slowly, tears streaming down her face. Is he serious? Thank him for this kind of treatment? How was that even a reward? He didn't even make her come! Somehow she didn't want to see it before, but now she does, in that tiny moment of clarity as the relief to still be drawing breath floods her body. She sees it now: he is absolutely insane, there's no other explanation.

(This isn't normal, this isn't what she wanted, not what she wanted, not normal, not wanted, not –)

An even more disturbing revelation is that there's only one thing she can do: follow his orders, be at his mercy, play along.

So she does. “Th-thank you,” she tries to say, but her voice is just that raw, rough croak caught in the back of her throat. She frowns, clears her throat, winces at the strain and ache within. Whines at the pain.

And strangely enough his expression softens, his hand moving to her cheek, caressing it gently. He leans down and presses his lips to her forehead, then wordlessly picks her up onto his arms and carries her out of the office.

FIVE 🟥 SIX 🟥 SEVEN

End notes: So. This happened. It kinda escalated a little in the end, hm? I'm sorry (but not really). You've read the tags though (I hope), so please don't blame me.

Again, I want to stress that THIS IS FICTION! Not real life! I do not condone this behavior! But sometimes those characters that live inside my head have a mind of their own, and they just do stuff, I can't stop them.

So, thank you for (still) being here! Remember, no rain, no rainbow, right? It'll get better again, I promise!

Thanks again for reading! Next chapter on Monday!

TAG LIST: @qmsvpx @cyan1decandy @bimbos-are-angels @voiceactivated @reader-1290

AO3 / / / MASTERLIST

CHAPTER / / / ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE

SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾️TEN

ELEVEN TWELVE ◾️THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN◾FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN◾SEVENTEEN◾EIGHTEEN◾NINETEEN◾TWENTY

[benevolentbones]

met you first | spencer reid x fem!reader

warning: slight angst, spencer feeling sad, awkward cute spencer

word count: 1.8k

summary: spencer tells the bau girls about a girl he met, morgan introduces his new girlfriend.

a/n: wrote this in one sitting at work, enjoy the angst. reblogs, comments and requests appreciated <3 comment to be added to my taglist!

the team was gathered at rossi’s mansion for his bi-monthly dinner party he liked to host. rossi was standing by the stove, tossing a pan of incredible smelling tomato sauce.

hotch was to his left, analysing every ingredient the older man added to the dish, trying to memorise it so he could recreate it for jack.

the girls and spencer sat at the island, jj and garcia were deep in conversation about how henry and will were doing, jj happily explaining that henry started to take his first steps.

spencer fidgeted with his hands, his leg bobbing up and down as he sat. emily glanced over to spencer, aware he felt kind of awkward and out of place, she decided to speak up.

“do you guys know when morgan is arriving- apparently he’s bringing his new girlfriend.”

this caused the other two girls to turn their attention to emily, spencer also looked up from his fixed gaze on the marble tiles.

“new girlfriend? i didn’t know morgan was capable of being with a woman longer than just one night.” garcia chuckled out, causing the group to laugh with her.

“it seems like everyone is coupling up nowadays…just you and me reid, you can be my wingman.” emily nudged spencer, causing the younger man to let out a breathy chuckle.

“actually…” he began, feeling his face warm at the thought. “i met someone..”

the looks between the girls ranged from disbelief to amazed. “tell us more- you can’t just leave it at that.” jj pushed, eyes fixed on spencer.

garcia nodded, the pink bows in her hair moving along with her. “spill the tea, reid.”

spencer felt his face grow warm. “i- well— i haven’t even asked her out yet— but she’s so…kind…and so funny and beautiful- god she’s beautiful..” he mumbled out, his mind wandering back to the first time he met you over a week ago.

~

it was a typical wednesday afternoon, spencer decided to drop by his local coffee shop before going to the bau, the team had worked a late case out of state and hotch had given everyone the morning off to refresh.

he stood at the back of the line, gently drumming his thin fingers over his satchel. the line moved pretty quickly so he wasn’t complaining, his brown eyes darted around the room taking in all the small quirks of the coffee shop.

his attention was caught when a little boy, no more than six years old, began crying in-front of him. he noticed that the young boy had wanted the last piece of chocolate cake, and the person before him had bought it.

the young teen boy at the counter didn’t know what to do in that situation, quickly grabbing his supervisor to deal with the crying boy and his mother.

that’s when his eyes landed on you, he deduced that you couldn’t be more than twenty seven. you had the company apron hanging loosely around your neck accompanied by a black name tag that read ‘y/n’.

“hey buddy what’s wrong?” you spoke, your voice soft and kind.

the little boys big blue teary eyes flickered to his mother and back to you. “i wanted the cake.” he mumbled out, clinging to his mothers side.

your eyes scanned the glass cabinet, noticing the lack of cake. your eyes flickered over the mother and the son, before nodding. “give me one moment okay bud?” the small boy nodded before you wandered into the back of the coffee shop.

not even ten seconds later you came back holding a plate with one slice of chocolate cake. the little boy’s face lit up instantly as you handed him the plate.

“i was saving this slice incase a very special little guy came in- and look here you are! i hope you enjoy it.” your smile was so warm, the kindness meeting your e/c eyes.

his mother thanked you profusely and paid, walking off to take a seat somewhere in the café. spencer was up next, he stumbled up to the counter as you greeted him with a smile.

“hi, what can i get for you today?” your voice was so melodic that he nearly zoned out.

“h-hey- can i get a black coffee with…..10 sugars.” he mumbled the last part, his eyes flickering away from you for a moment.

you let out a light chuckle, punching the order into your computer. “you’ve got a sweet tooth then i assume?”

spencer rubbed the nape of his neck, his eyes studying your pretty features. “y-yeah i suppose you could say that— um how much do i owe you?” he reached into his pocket to pull out his wallet.

you shook your head, moving to the left to start making his drink. “don’t worry about it…” you trailed off, his name not yet known to you.

“spencer…and thank you.” he felt a blush creep onto his face as he watched you meticulously pour his coffee into a cup. you began to add the sugars one by one when spencer decided to speak up.

“that was really nice of you- what you did for that boy.”

your eyes met his as you smiled. “i was saving that piece of cake for lunch but…he clearly needed it more than i did.” a soft chuckle left your lips and spencer could swear he felt his heartbeat triple in speed.

you finished up making his coffee, popping a lid onto the cup. as you went to pass the coffee, spencer’s fingers brushed yours causing a spark from the sudden touch.

“have a nice day, spencer..i hope to see you here again.”

he nodded, evidently flustered. “y-yeah me too..thank you.”

~

after that interaction, spencer went to the coffee shop every morning just to see you, it became part of his routine. some days it made him late to work he honestly he didn’t care, seeing you every morning was worth it.

spencer was brought back to the present by a nudge from emily, her dark eyes staring into his soul. “when are you going to ask her out?”

spencer shook his head. “i- i don’t know…i don’t want to mess things up..” he mumbled ouch scratching his neck.

“mess what up, pretty boy?” morgan chuckled as he finally walked into the room, all eyes flickered onto him. and a few steps behind him…there you stood.

spencer’s eyes instantly flickered onto your form, you were wearing a simple black dress, a change to your usual apron and baggy jeans. his heart swelled, he couldn’t believe you were here- why were you here?

then he pieced it together, just as morgan brought an arm to rest around your waist, pulling you close to his side. his heart sank, his features dropping slightly.

“this is my girlfriend, y/n.” morgan let out a small chuckle before pressing a kiss to your temple. you smiled warmly towards the group, though it didn’t quite meet your eyes, your gaze finally landing on spencer.

“hey sweet tooth- i didn’t know you knew derek..” you trailed off, there was something off about how you spoke, your voice not holding your usually cheery tone.

a few sets of eyes flickered onto spencer as he awkwardly adjusted his seated position on the stool. “y-yeah we work together.”

“how do you know each other?” morgan mused, his grip on your waist not loosening.

“he comes to my coffee shop every morning.” i mumble with a smile, my eyes not leaving spencer’s form.

immediately emily knew that this was the girl spencer had been speaking about, to avoid further questions she spoke up. “god i need a drink- morgan pour me a glass of wine there would you?”

morgan nodded with a chuckle, pulling away from you and walking around the island to where rossi stored the glasses. spencer let out a small sigh of relief, knowing that emily had spoken up to draw away from the situation.

throughout the night spencer couldn’t help but steal glances in your direction, he was growing increasingly frustrated with the way morgan would rest his hands on you, how he would pull you closer to him every so often. he needed to take a breather.

when everyone was distracted his managed to slip out onto one of rossi’s many balconies. he pressed his calloused hands against the cool, stone balustrade. he let out a deep sigh, staring out into the dark night, rossi’s garden being lit up by the moon.

spencer heard the sliding door open and shut behind him, now aware of someone’s presence. “i’ll be in, in a minute..” he mumbled out, his voice low.

“hey..” you spoke, your voice traveling to his ears making his heart ache. he turned his gaze to you, you were now standing a foot away from him, leaning your back against the stone railing.

“i- sorry i thought you were someone else..” he mumbled out, not being able to draw his eyes from your moonlit body.

“are you okay…you seem off, spencer.”

he let out a small sigh, running a hand through his dark hair.

“yeah- im..im fine…i didn’t realise you were with morgan.” he muttered out, noticing the drop on your features.

“it’s…pretty new. i met him a few weeks ago..” you managed to whisper out, running your hand over your arm.

“a few weeks ago..” he repeated, which you replied with a curt nod.

you both stood in silence for a moment. you were aware of spencer’s crush on you..and you couldn’t help but feel something for him too.

spencer turned to face you, speaking up. “would things be different…” he trailed off, chewing on his bottom lip.

“different?”

“…if i had met you first.” he breathed out, studying your features for any sign of hope.

you averted your gaze, your eyes staring holes into the ground below you. you knew in your heart the answer, things would be different if you had met him first. but you didn’t, and you couldn’t change that.

he nodded, knowing your answer. he let out a small breath, adjusting the glasses that rested on his nose.

you had only started dating morgan, you didn’t know where you stood with everything. it was all new to you.

“i’m sorry.” you mumbled out, a hint of sadness laced in your words. spencer shook his head.

“it’s not your fault.”

you paused for a moment, turning back to the door. “i’m..going to get back to the party, they’ll notice..”

he nodded again, your words stung, he knew there was nothing he could do but pine for you.

“i’ll be in soon…i just need to think..”

you shuffled away from him, pulling the door open.

“spencer?” you called out, your hand on the open door.

he turned back to face you, his eyes scanning your form as the warm light from inside the house lit up your soft features.

“i wish i had met you first.” you mumbled out, before slipping back inside.

taglist!! @0108s22m @rainoftearss @potatovoyager @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @luvmia222 @shardsofmarxx @silver138 @lover-of-books-and-tea @thedancingnerdmermaid @khxna @cynbx

[winstonsns]

hello!!! I was wondering if I could request a Dallas Winston x reader story based off of the song "she's a fool" by Lesley Gore. The song reminds me a lot of Sylvia and Dallas and so maybe the story can be based around how reader is a better gf than Sylvia and such. Hopefully this makes sense LOL

she’s a fool (request)

authors note: this was super fun to write so i hope you like it 💗

dally x reader

word count: 2.0k

warnings: cussing, slightly suggestive, joking threats

you and your boyfriend, dally, are in your kitchen, both of you sitting on the barstools made for the island. the two of you are talking when you decide to take some cherries out of the fridge, you wanted a little snack to satisfy your hunger.

as you get up from the stool and walk to the fridge, dally asks, “heard that new elvis movie’s out, you wanna come see it with me? it’d be jus’ the two of us.” giving you a certain look and winking at the end.

you blushed, rolling your eyes and stating, “i want to go but i’m gonna ask my parents first. don’t wanna make them worried when they don’t see me at home.” you open up the fridge and take the cherry bag out, turning around and taking a bowl out of the cupboard.

you then take some cherries out of the bag and head towards the sink, rinsing them. dally gives you a confused look, “what— why are you rinsing them?”

looking back at him, you answer, “i dunno, my mom always told me to rinse fruits and vegetables because you never know what kind of bugs can be on them. just tryin’ to stay safe.” your boyfriend finally understands your answer and shrugs it off.

once you were done rinsing them, you put them in a bowl and put it in front of you and dally. your dad then comes down the stairs and says, “almost late for work, honey. i’ll be back around… probably six.”

you nod, grabbing his lunch out of the fridge while he thanks you, you ask, “hey, dad, do you think i could go to the drive in with dally today? it’d probably be around… um…”

looking to your boyfriend for the answer, he looks back at you then to your dad, finishing, “oh, probably around seven or so. we’d be back around nine, i’m guessing. right, baby?”

you blush and look at him, nodding. you stand next to him while he’s sitting, your dad eyes him suspiciously. you put your arms around dally’s shoulder, your chest to his back as you look over his shoulder.

“please, dad? we’ll be safe, dally can protect me, you know him! so strong, so good at fighting and so amazing…” you look at dally, dropping your arm to his bicep, smiling at him sweetly as he eats a cherry, a wide grin on his face.

your dad sighs, “fine. you better keep her safe, winston. and you better not,” he paused, “and i mean better not do anything bad or inappropriate.” you tried to hold back a laugh, a smile evident on both you and your boyfriends faces. your dad made a serious face at you, crossing his arms.

you walked over to your dad and thanked him, “thank you dad! i think you should be heading to work now though, love you!” while you’re giving him a hug, he glares at dally, causing your boyfriend to put his hands up in a mocking surrendering pose.

when you let go of the hug, your dad replies, “love you, kid.” and walks out of the door, you walk behind him to lock the door. you then go back to dally, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and once again kissing him.

after pulling away, he looks at you with so much love in his eyes, anyone would know you are the only one he loves if someone saw him like this. he knows he loves you although it’s difficult for him to express it, he doesn’t directly voice it to you.

the two of you stay at your house for the next nine hours, consisting of you talking, sleeping or reading while he looks around your room. by the time it’s 6:30, the both of you decide to drive to the drive in.

when you get into the drivers seat and your boyfriend is in the passengers seat, he asks, “why ain’t i drivin’?” you chuckle, looking at him to see if he was serious.

you answer, “i love you, dal, but i am not lettin’ you drive my car.” he rolls his eyes as you begin to drive, “i’m a perfectly good driver, don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout…” he mumbles.

you laugh, the only laugh he loves so much, the one he’d notice even if so many others were laughing at the same time. he grins, looking back at your concentrated face, focusing on the road.

when you both arrive at the drive in, you find a good place to park before getting out and sitting on the hood. dally sits next to you, you then hear a loud scream in your ear, causing you to lean towards your boyfriend and look to him for help as you scream back.

you look behind you to see two-bit laughing his ass off, a bottle of alcohol in his hands as you give him a pissed off look. your boyfriend laughs as your side is pressed into his, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and kissing your forehead.

“i’m gonna get us some snacks. you want anything?” you stated, asking your boyfriend too. he thought for a moment before responding, “just a coke, thanks doll.”

as you walk away, he grabs a cigarette from the box in hispocket, he got into the habit of avoiding smoking near you. he grabs a lighter from his pocket, lighting the cigarette and putting it in his mouth.

your boyfriend and two-bit are both talking when keith interrupts, “looks like you got company, dallas. you’re so fucked, i’ll be back when sylvia’s gone.”

dally groans, hearing sylvia’s voice behind him, “hey, dal, you wanna come back to my place after the movie’s done?” the nickname feels so wrong coming from her. he doesn’t even look at her, doesn’t turn around and focuses on the car, your car.

“get the fuck away, i have a girlfriend.” he responds, clearly agitated as he doesn’t want you to see him angry. he doesn’t look to see where you are, he knows you’ll be back soon.

she responds, “so? she doesn’t have to know…” as she puts her hand on his arm, he loses his temper.

“god, don’t you ever know when to fucking stop, sylvia? we broke up because you fucking cheated on me while i was in the cooler, man. there’s no way i could even be with you after that. you’re a piece of shit, you’re a bad person and you deserve nothing but the worst for the rest of your life. i have a girlfriend, she never treats me how you did. she’s way better than you, better than all the girls i’ve dated, and you can go cry about it to someone else for all i care. she treats me like she actually loves me, she treats me like she knows my fucking worth. she does more than you ever could, and she is the one i want. you can piss off, sylvia, you’re dead to me, you fucking get that?” he pauses, still angry as he sees tears in her eyes, “oh, now you’re crying, huh? maybe you should’ve thought first before cheating on me, before treated me like shit! get fucking lost.”

she runs away at the last sentence, dally rolling his eyes and leaning against the car, going back to smoking. two-bit walks back to him, asking, “damn, you do care about y/n. never heard you talk about her like that, is it true?”

your boyfriend stares at him, nodding slightly and taking the cigarette out of his mouth, “you tell anyone about this, i’ll cut your damn head off.” his friend chuckles at the threat, stating, “your girl’s back, put it out before she sees.” referring to the cigarette.

he drops it and puts it out with his heel, walking over to you and putting his arm around your shoulder, taking his soda out of your hands, thanking you.

the both of you sat down on the hood of your car, you scoot closer to him and give him a kiss on the cheek. he smiles at you, returning the favor except on your forehead.

as the movie plays, the soda cups begin to become less filled, the chip bags only being filled with crumbs. the silence of you and dally are occasionally interrupted with little comments about the movie.

once the movie is done, the two of you look at each other and smile. you grab his trash and walk to a trash can, him following you, for protection, he says. he then follows you back to the car, grabbing your hand and staying close to you.

the both of you get into the car, driving in the direction of your house. the drive there is filled with silence, dally looks at you, not being able to see your face well because of the dark. he places his hand on your thigh, looking out the window once you turn your head to him.

when you arrive at your house, you open the door to see your dad in the living room, sitting on the couch. he reads the newspaper and looks up, asking, “how was the movie, you two?”

you respond, “oh, it was good!” and summarize the whole movie for him, as he wasn’t planning to see it anytime soon.

you then look nervously at the ground, your boyfriend still behind you at the entrance, standing awkwardly. you ask, “hey, um, dad?”

he sighs, putting down his newspaper as you smile, “can dally stay over tonight? he’s already here and it would take him a while to get back to his own place…”

your dad sighs once again as your boyfriend is silent, “yeah. go to bed.” you exclaim and walk to your dad, hugging him and thanking him.

you then walk to your boyfriend, leading him upstairs as he grabs your hand once again. you notice and ask, “dal, you seem awfully close today, did something happen? i’m not complaining, just wondering.”

he looks at you, stating, “sylvia came up to me at the drive in. asked me if i wanted to go back to her place, i said no and told her i gotta girlfriend, that you’re way better than her and i’d never want her again, not even to save my life. told her to piss off.”

as the two of you walk into your bedroom and you close the door, you beam, “aww, that’s so cute, dal! thank you for telling her to piss off and stuff.”

“yeah, no problem, doll.” he replies, letting go of your hand for a brief moment to take his shirt off, changing his pants into more comfortable ones he had left at your house.

you walked into your bathroom, doing your nightly routine before changing into your pajamas. you pull the sheets down, curling up as you look at your boyfriend.

he smiles, scoffing and pulling down the sheets on the other side of the bed, laying down. you cuddle up next to him as he puts his arm around your waist in a protective manner.

“love you, dal… thanks for being the best boyfriend ever…” you mumble into his chest, falling asleep quickly after.

he pauses before kissing your forehead gently, your head on his chest. he realizes he wants to be cherished, to be loved, you make him feel that way. he can’t find a single flaw in you, and realizes he should treat you like he loves you. you are a better girlfriend than sylvia ever was, than all of his girlfriends combined. you make him feel like someone, make him feel like he has someone to live for.

“sweet dreams, baby.” he mumbles into your hair, falling asleep not long after. your dad quietly opens the door, light coming in as he saw you and your boyfriend cuddling.

he chuckles softly, closing the door and walking into his own bedroom, knowing you were truly loved by dallas winston.